{"text":"Well, it is a weepin' and a moanin' and a gnashin' of teeth\nIt is a weepin' and a moanin' and a gnashin' of teeth\nIt is a\u2014when it comes to my sound which is the champion sound\nBelieve, believe\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy\nYour chick, she so thirsty\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me (Believe)\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy\nYour chick, she so thirsty\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy (Swerve)\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Swerve)\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me (Woah, believe)\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Boy)\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo (Boy)\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me\n\nOkay, drop it to the floor, make that ass shake (Shake, shake)\nWoah, make the ground move: that's an ass quake\nBuilt a house up on that ass: that's an ass-state\nRoll\u2013roll\u2013roll my weed on it: that's an ass tray\nSay, Ye, say, Ye, don't we do this every day\u2013day? (Huh?)\nI work them long nights, long nights to get a payday (Huh?)\nFinally got paid, now I need shade and a vacay\nAnd niggas still hatin'\nSo much hate, I need a AK (AK)\nNow we out in Paris, yeah, I'm Perrierin'\nWhite girls politickin': that's that Sarah Palin\nGet\u2013get\u2013get\u2013get\u2013get\u2013gettin' hot, Californicatin'\nI give her that D, 'cause that's where I was born and raised in\nYou might also like\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy (Swerve)\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Swerve)\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo (Swerve)\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me (Swerve, believe)\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy (Swerve)\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Swerve)\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo (Swerve)\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me (Swerve)\nWell, it is a weepin' and a moanin' (Swerve)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Swerve)\nIt is a weepin' and a mournin' (Swerve)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Swerve)\nIt is a\u2014when it comes to my sound (Swerve)\nWhich is the champion sound (Swerve)\nBelieve, believe (Swerve)\nBelieve, believe (Swerve)\nYuugh! It's prime time, my top back, this pimp game, ho\nI'm red leather, this cocaine, I'm Rick James, ho\nI'm bill-droppin', Ms. Pac-Man, this pill-poppin' ass ho\nI'm poppin' too, these blue dolphins need two coffins\nAll she want is some heel money\nAll she need is some bill money\nHe take his time, he counts it out\nI weighs it up, that's real money\nCheck the neck, check the wrist\nThem heads turnin': that's exorcist\nMy Audemars like Mardi Gras\nThat's Swiss time, and that's excellence\nTwo-door preference\nRoof gone, George Jefferson\nThat white frost on that pound cake\nSo your Duncan Hines is irrelevant, woo\nLambo Murci\u00e9lago\nShe go wherever I go\nWherever we go, we do it pronto, it's like\u2014\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy (Swerve)\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Swerve)\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo (Swerve)\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me (Swerve, believe)\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy (Swerve)\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Swerve)\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo (Swerve)\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me (Swerve)\nWell, it is a weepin' and a moanin' (Swerve)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Swerve)\nIt is a weepin' and a mournin' (Swerve)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Swerve)\nIt is a\u2014when it comes to my sound (Swerve)\nWhich is the champion sound (Swerve)\nBelieve, believe (Swerve)\nBelieve (Swerve)\n\nWell, it is a weepin' and a moanin'\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth in the dancehall\nAnd who no have teeth gwan rub pon dem gums\nCuh when time it comes to my sound\nWhich is the champion sound\nThe bugle has blown fi many times\nAnd it still have one more time left\nCuh the amount of stripe weh deh pon our shoulder\nLet the suicide doors up\nI threw suicides on the tour bus\nI threw suicides on the private jet\nYou know what that mean, I'm fly to death\nI step in Def Jam buildin' like I'm the shit\nTell 'em gimme fifty million or I'ma quit\nMost rappers' taste level ain't at my waist level\nTurn up the bass 'til it's up-in-yo-face level\nDon't do no press but I get the most press, kid\nPlus, yo, my bitch make your bitch look like Precious\nSomethin' 'bout Mary, she gone off that molly\nNow the whole party is melting like Dal\u00ed\nNow everybody is movin' they body\nDon't sell me apartment, I'll move in the lobby (Yah)\nNiggas is loiterin' just to feel important\nYou gon' see lawyers and niggas in Jordans (2 Chainz)\nOkay, now catch up to my campaign\nCoupe the color of mayonnaise\nI'm drunk and high at the same time\nDrinkin' champagne on the airplane (Tell 'em)\nSpit rounds like a gun range (Baow)\nBeat it up like Rampage\nHundred bands, cut your girl\nNow your girl need a Band-Aid (Damn)\nGrade A, A1\nChain the color of Akon\nBlack diamonds, backpack rhymin'\nCo-signed by Louis Vuitton (Yep)\nHorsepower, horsepower\nAll this Polo on, I got horsepower\nPound of this cost four thousand\nNow I make it rain, she want more showers\nRain (Rain) pourin' (Pourin')\nAll my cars is foreign (Foreign)\nAll my broads is foreign (Foreign)\nMoney tall like Jordan\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy (Swerve)\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Swerve)\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo (Swerve)\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me (Swerve)\nO-o-o-o-o-okay, Lamborghini Mercy (Swerve)\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Swerve)\nI-I-I-I-I'm in that two-seat Lambo (Swerve, believe)\nWith your girl, she tryna jerk me (Swerve, believe)\nWell, it is a weepin' and a moanin' (Swerve)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Swerve)\nIt is a weepin' and a moanin' (Swerve)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Swerve)\nIt is a\u2014when it comes to my sound (Swerve)\nWhich is the champion sound (Swerve)\nBelieve, believe (Swerve)\nBelieve, believe (Swerve)\nWell, it is a weepin' and a moanin' and a gnashin' of teeth\nIt is a weepin' and a moanin' and a gnashin' of teeth\nIt is a\u2014when it comes to my sound which is the champion sound\nBelieve, believe, believe, believe"}
{"text":"I shoot the lights out\nHide 'til it's bright out\nOh, just another lonely night\nAre you willing to sacrifice your life?\n\nBitch, I'm a monster, no-good bloodsucker\nFat motherfucker, now look who's in trouble\nAs you run through my jungles, all you hear is rumbles\nKanye West samples, here's one for example\n\nGossip, gossip, nigga, just stop it\nEverybody know I'm a motherfuckin' monster\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands at the concert\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands at the concert\nProfit, profit, nigga, I got it\nEverybody know I'm a motherfuckin' monster\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands at the concert\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands\nUh, the best living or dead hands down, huh\nLess talk, more head right now, huh\nAnd my eyes more red than the devil is\nAnd I'm 'bout to take it to another level, bitch\nMatter who you go and get, ain't nobody cold as this\nDo the rap and the track, triple-double, no assists\nAnd my only focus is stayin' on some bogus shit\nArguin' with my older bitch, actin' like I owe her shit\nI heard the beat, the same raps that gave the track pain\nBought the chain that always give me back pain\nFucking up my money so, yeah, I had to act sane\nChi nigga, but these hoes love my accent\nChick came up to me and said, \"This the number to dial\nIf you wanna make your number one your number two now\"\nMix that Goose and Malibu, I call it \"Malibooyah\"\nGoddamn, Yeezy always hit 'em with a new style\nKnow that motherfucker, well, what you gon' do now?\nWhatever I wanna do, gosh, it's cool now\nKnow I'm gonna do, ah, it's the new now\nThink you motherfuckers really really need to cool out\n'Cause you'll never get on top of this\nSo, mami, best advice is just to get on top of this\nHave you ever had sex with a pharaoh?\nAh, put the pussy in a sarcophagus\nNow she claiming that I bruised her esophagus\nHead of the class and she just won a swallowship\nI'm livin' in the future so the present is my past\nMy presence is a present, kiss my ass\nYou might also like\nGossip, gossip, nigga, just stop it\nEverybody know I'm a motherfuckin' monster\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands at the concert\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands at the concert (Yeah)\nProfit, profit, nigga, I got it\nEverybody know I'm a motherfuckin' monster\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands at the concert\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands\nSasquatch, Godzilla, King Kong, Loch Ness\nGoblin, ghoul, a zombie with no conscience\nQuestion, what do these things all have in common?\nEverybody knows I'm a motherfuckin' monster\nConquer, stomp ya, stop your silly nonsense\nNonsense, none of you niggas know where the swamp is\nNone of you niggas have seen the carnage that I've seen\nI still hear fiends scream in my dreams\nMurder, murder in black convertibles, I\nKill a block, I murder the avenues, I\nRape and pillage your village, women and children\nEverybody want to know what my Achilles heel is\nLove, I don't get enough of it\nAll I get is these vampires and bloodsuckers\nAll I see is these niggas I made millionaires\nMillin' about, spillin' they feelings in the air\nAll I see is these fake fucks with no fangs\nTryna draw blood from my ice-cold veins\nI smell a massacre\nSeems to be the only way to back you bastards up\nGossip, gossip, nigga, just stop it\nEverybody know I'm a motherfuckin' monster\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands at the concert\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands at the concert\nProfit, profit, nigga, I got it\nEverybody know I'm a motherfuckin' monster\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands at the concert\nI'ma need to see your fuckin' hands\nPull up in the monster, automobile gangsta\nWith a bad bitch that came from Sri Lanka\nYeah, I'm in that Tonka, color of Willy Wonka\nYou could be the king, but watch the queen conquer\nOkay, first things first, I'll eat your brains\nThen I'ma start rocking gold teeth and fangs\n'Cause that's what a motherfuckin' monster do\nHair dresser from Milan, that's the monster 'do\nMonster Giuseppe heel, that's the monster shoe\nYoung Money is the roster and a monster crew\nAnd I'm all up, all up, all up in the bank with the funny face\nAnd if I'm fake, I ain't notice 'cause my money ain't\nSo let me get this straight, wait, I'm the rookie?\nBut my features and my shows ten times your pay?\n50K for a verse, no album out\nYeah, my money's so tall that my Barbies got to climb it\nHotter than a Middle Eastern climate, violent\nTony Matterhorn, dutty wine it, wine it\nNicki on them titties when I sign it\nThat's how these niggas so one-track-minded\nBut really, really I don't give an F-U-C-K\n\"Forget Barbie, fuck Nicki, sh-she's fake\"\n\"She on a diet,\" but my pockets eatin' cheesecake\nAnd I'll say, bride of Chucky, it's child's play\nJust killed another career, it's a mild day\nBesides, Ye, they can't stand besides me\nI think me, you, and Am' should m\u00e9nage Friday\nPink wig, thick ass, give 'em whiplash\nI think big, get cash, make 'em blink fast\nNow look at what you just saw, this is what you live for\nAh, I'm a motherfuckin' monster\nI, I crossed the limelight\nAnd I'll, I'll let God decide\nAnd I, I wouldn't last these shows\nSo I, I am headed home (Headed home)\nI, I crossed the limelight\nAnd I'll, I'll let God decide, 'cide (No)\nAnd I, I wouldn't last these shows\nSo I, I am headed home (Head home)\nI, I crossed the limelight (No, the limelight)\nAnd I'll, I'll let God decide, 'cide\nAnd I, I wouldn't last these shows\nSo I, I am headed home"}
{"text":"You're the only power (Power)\nYou're the only power that can\nYou're the only power (Power)\nYou're the only power that can\nOh, oh, oh, father\n(If young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you)\n\nBeautiful mornin', you're the sun in my mornin', babe\nWho can I turn to?\nNothin' unwanted\nAfter all, who can I turn to?\nBeautiful mornin', you're the sun in my mornin', babe\nIf I don't turn to you\nNothin' unwanted\nNo other help I know, I stretch my hands\n\nI just wanna feel liberated, I-I, na-na-na\nWho can I turn to?\nI just wanna feel liberated, I-I, na-na-na\nAfter all, who can I turn to?\nIf I ever instigated, I am sorry\nIf I don't turn to you\nTell me who in here could relate, I-I-I\nNo other help I know, I stretch my hands\nYou might also like\nNow, if I fuck this model\nAnd she just bleached her asshole\nAnd I get bleach on my T-shirt\nI'ma feel like an asshole\nI was high when I met her\nWe was down in Tribeca\nShe'll get under your skin if you let her\nShe'll get under your skin if you\u2014 (Uh)\nI don't even wanna talk about it\nI don't even wanna talk about it\nI don't even wanna say nothin'\nEverybody gon' say somethin'\nI'd be worried if they said nothin'\nRemind me where I know you from\nShe lookin' like she owe you somethin'\nYou know just what we want\nI wanna wake up with you in my\u2014\n\nBeautiful mornin', you're the sun in my mornin', babe\nWho can I turn to?\nBeautiful mornin'\nNothin' unwanted\nAfter all, who can I turn to?\nBeautiful mornin', you're the sun in my mornin', babe\nIf I don't turn to you\nNothin' unwanted\nNo other help I know\nI just wanna feel liberated, I-I, na-na-na\nWho can I turn to?\nI just wanna feel liberated, I-I, na-na-na\nAfter all, who can I turn to?\nIf I ever instigated, I am sorry\nIf I don't turn to you\nTell me who in here could relate, I-I-I\nNo other help I know, I stretch my hands"}
{"text":"(Yes, God)\nWe don't want no devils in the house, God (Yes, Lord)\nWe want the lord (Yes, Jesus)\nAnd that's it (Yes, God)\nHallej\u2014 hand over Satan (Yes, Jesus)\nJesus praise the Lord (Yes, God)\nHallelujah, God (Yes, God)\nWe don't want no devils in the house, God (Yes, Lord)\nWe want the lord (Yes, Jesus)\nAnd that's it (Yes, God)\nHallej\u2014 hand over Satan (Yes, Jesus)\nJesus praise the Lord (Yes, God)\nI'm tryna keep my faith\nWe on an ultralight beam\nWe on an ultralight beam\nThis is a God dream\nThis is a God dream\nThis is everything\nThis is everything\n\nDeliver us serenity\nDeliver us peace\nDeliver us loving\nWe know we need it\nYou know we need it\nYou know we need it\nThat's why we need You now, oh\nPray for Paris\nPray for the parents\nThis is a God dream\nThis is a God dream\nThis is a God dream\nYou might also like\nWe on an ultralight beam\nWe on an ultralight beam\nThis is a God dream\nThis is a God dream\nThis is everything\nEverything (Thing, thing, thing)\n\nI'm tryna keep my faith\nBut I'm looking for more\nSomewhere I can feel safe\nAnd end my holy war\nI'm tryna keep my faith\nSo why send oppression, not blessings?\nWhy, oh, why'd You do me wrong? (More)\nYou persecute the weak\nBecause it makes You feel so strong (Safe)\nDon't have much strength to fight\nSo I look to the light (War)\nTo make these wrongs turn right\nHead up high, I look to the light\nHey, 'cause I know that You'll make everything alright\nAnd I know that You'll take good care of Your child\nOh, no longer am afraid of the night\n'Cause I, I look to the light\nWhen they come for You, I will shield Your name\nI will field their questions, I will feel Your pain\nNo one can judge\nThey don't, they don't know\nThey don't know\n\nFoot on the Devil's neck 'til it drifted Pangaea\nI'm moving all my family from Chatham to Zambia\nTreat the demons just like Pam\nI mean, I fuck with your friends, but damn, Gina\nI been this way since Arthur was anteater\nNow they wanna hit me with the woo wap, the bam\nTryna snap photos of familia\nMy daughter look just like Sia, you can't see her\nYou can feel the lyrics, the spirit coming in braille\nTubman of the underground, come and follow the trail\nI made \u201cSunday Candy,\u201d I'm never going to hell\nI met Kanye West, I'm never going to fail\nHe said, \"Let's do a good ass job with 'Chance 3'\"\nI hear you gotta sell it to snatch the Grammy\nLet's make it so free and the bars so hard\nThat there ain't one gosh darn part you can't tweet\nThis is my part, nobody else speak\nThis is my part, nobody else speak\nThis little light of mine\nGlory be to God, yeah\nI'ma make sure that they go where they can't go\nIf they don't wanna ride, I'ma still give 'em raincoats\nKnow what God said when He made the first rainbow\nJust throw this at the end if I'm too late for the intro\nUgh, I'm just having fun with it\nYou know that a nigga was lost\nI laugh in my head\n'Cause I bet that my ex looking back like a pillar of salt\nUgh, 'cause they'll flip the script on your ass like Wesley and Spike\nYou cannot mess with the light\nLook at lil' Chano from 79th\nWe on an ultralight beam\nWe on an ultralight beam\nThis is a God dream\nThis is a God dream\nThis is everything\nEverything\n\n(Yes, God)\n(Hallelujah)\nI'm tryna keep my faith\n(Yes, Jesus)\nBut I'm looking for more\nSomewhere I can feel safe\nAnd end my holy war\nFather, this prayer is for everyone that feels they're not good enough\nThis prayer's for everybody that feel that they're too messed up\nFor everyone that feels they've said \"I'm sorry\" too many times\nYou can never go too far when you can't come back home again\nThat's why I need...\nFaith, more, safe, war"}
{"text":"B-B-B-B-Bound to fall in love\nBound to fall in love\nUh-huh, honey\nAll them other niggas lame, and you know it now\nWhen a real nigga hold you down, you s'posed to drown\n(Bound to fall in love)\nBound\n(B-B-B-B-Bound to fall in love)\nBound\nUh-huh, honey\n\nWhat you doin' in the club on a Thursday?\nShe say she only here for her girl birthday\nThey ordered champagne but still look thirsty\nRock Forever 21, but just turned thirty\nI know I got a bad reputation\nWalk-around-always-mad reputation\nLeave-a-pretty-girl-sad reputation\nStart a Fight Club, Brad reputation\nI turnt the nightclub out of the basement\nI'll turn the plane around, your ass keep complainin'\nHow you gon' be mad on vacation?\nDutty wining 'round all these Jamaicans\nUh, this that prom shit\nThis that what-we-do-don't-tell-your-mom shit\nThis that red-cup-all-on-the-lawn shit\nGot a fresh cut, straight out the salon, bitch\nYou might also like\nI know you're tired of lovin', of lovin' (Oh)\nWith nobody to love, nobody, no\u2014\nUh-huh, honey\nClose your eyes and let the word paint a thousand pictures\nOne good girl is worth a thousand bitches\n(Bound to fall in love)\nBound\n(Bound to fall in love)\nBound\nUh-huh, honey\n\nI wanna fuck you hard on the sink\nAfter that, give you somethin' to drink\nStep back, can't get spunk on the mink\nI mean damn, what would Jeromey Romey Romey Rome think?\nHey, you remember where we first met?\nOkay, I don't remember where we first met\nBut hey, admittin' is the first step\nAnd hey, you know ain't nobody perfect\nAnd I know, with the hoes I got the worst rep\nBut hey, their backstroke I'm tryna perfect\nAnd hey, ayo, we made it: Thanksgivin'\nSo hey, maybe we can make it to Christmas\nShe asked me what I wished for on my wishlist\nHave you ever asked your bitch for other bitches?\nMaybe we could still make it to the church steps\nBut first, you gon' remember how to forget\nAfter all these long-ass verses\nI'm tired, you tired, Jesus wept\nI know you're tired (Tired) of lovin', of lovin'\nWith nobody to love, nobody, nobody\nSo just grab somebody, no leavin' this party\nWith nobody to love, nobody, nobody\nUh-huh, honey\n\nJerome's in the house, watch your mouth\nJerome's in the house, watch your mouth\n(Bound to fall in love)\nBound\n(Bound to fall in love)\nBound\nUh-huh, honey"}
{"text":"Chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill\nChill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill\nChill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill\nChill, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill\nMy mama was raised in the era when\nClean water was only served to the fairer skin\nDoin' clothes, you woulda thought I had help\nBut they wasn't satisfied unless I picked the cotton myself\nYou see it's broke nigga racism\nThat's that \"Don't touch anything in the store\"\nAnd it's rich nigga racism\nThat's that \"Come in, please buy more\"\n\"What you want, a Bentley? Fur coat? A diamond chain?\nAll you blacks want all the same things\"\nUsed to only be niggas, now everybody playin'\nSpendin' everything on Alexander Wang\nNew slaves\n\nYou see it's leaders and it's followers\nBut I'd rather be a dick than a swallower\nYou see it's leaders and it's followers\nBut I'd rather be a dick than a swallower\nYou might also like\nI throw these Maybach keys\nI wear my heart on the sleeve\nI know that we the new slaves\nI see the blood on the leaves\nI see the blood on the leaves\nI see the blood on the leaves\nI know that we the new slaves\nI see the blood on the leaves\nThey throwin' hate at me\nWant me to stay at ease\nFuck you and your corporation\nY'all niggas can't control me\nI know that we the new slaves\nI know that we the new slaves\nI'm 'bout to wild the fuck out\nI'm goin' Bobby Boucher\nI know that pussy ain't free\nYou niggas pussy, ain't me\nY'all throwin' contracts at me\nYou know that niggas can't read\nThrow on some Maybach keys\nFuck it, c'est la vie\nI know that we the new slaves\nY'all niggas can't fuck with me\nY'all niggas can't fuck with Ye\nY'all niggas can't fuck with Ye\nI'll move my family out the country\nSo you can't see where I stay\nSo go and grab the reporters\nSo I can smash their recorders\nSee, they'll confuse us with some bullshit\nLike the New World Order\nMeanwhile the DEA\nTeamed up with the CCA\nThey tryna lock niggas up\nThey tryna make new slaves\nSee, that's that privately owned prison\nGet your peace today\nThey prolly all in the Hamptons\nBraggin' 'bout what they made\nFuck you and your Hampton house\nI'll fuck your Hampton spouse\nCame on her Hampton blouse\nAnd in her Hampton mouth\nY'all 'bout to turn shit up\nI'm 'bout to tear shit down\nI'm 'bout to air shit out\nNow what the fuck they gon' say now?\nNothing bad, nothing bad, noth\u2014\nNoth-Noth\u2014, \u2014ing bad, noth\u2014 (Noth-Noth\u2014)\nBad, nothing bad, nothing bad\nNothing\u2014\n\nI won't end this fight, not this time again\nSo long, so long, so long, you cannot survive\nAnd I'm not dyin', and I can't lose\nI can't lose, no, I can't lose\n'Cause I can't leave it to you\nSo let's get too high, get too high again\nToo high again, too high, ooh hoo-hoo-hooh, woo\nYeah, h-h-h-high, h-high-high, high-high high-igh-high-high\nH-high-igh, yeah, high, high-igh\nEgyszer a Nap \u00fagy elf\u00e1radt (Yeah, mhm-igh)\nElaludt m\u00e9ly z\u00f6ld t\u00f3 \u00f6l\u00e9n\nAz embereknek f\u00e1jt a s\u00f6t\u00e9t\n\u0150 megsajn\u00e1lt, elj\u00f6tt k\u00f6z\u00e9nk"}
{"text":"Look at ya, look at ya, look at ya, look at ya\nLook at ya, look at ya, look at ya, look at ya\nLook at ya, look at ya, look at ya, look at ya\nLook at ya, look at ya, look at ya, look at ya (Ladies and gentlemen, ladies, ladies and gentlemen)\n\nAnd I always find, yeah, I always find something wrong\nYou been puttin' up with my shit just way too long\nI'm so gifted at finding what I don't like the most\nSo I think it's time for us to have a toast\n\nLet's have a toast for the douchebags\nLet's have a toast for the assholes\nLet's have a toast for the scumbags\nEvery one of them that I know\nLet's have a toast for the jerk-offs\nThat'll never take work off\nBaby, I got a plan\nRun away fast as you can\n\nShe find pictures in my email\nI sent this bitch a picture of my dick\nI don't know what it is with females\nBut I'm not too good at that shit\nSee, I could have me a good girl\nAnd still be addicted to them hoodrats\nAnd I just blame everything on you\nAt least you know that's what I'm good at\nYou might also like\nAnd I always find, yeah, I always find\nYeah, I always find something wrong\nYou been puttin' up with my shit just way too long\nI'm so gifted at finding what I don't like the most\nSo I think it's time for us to have a toast\n\nLet's have a toast for the douchebags\nLet's have a toast for the assholes\nLet's have a toast for the scumbags\nEvery one of them that I know\nLet's have a toast for the jerk-offs\nThat'll never take work off\nBaby, I got a plan\nRun away fast as you can\n\nRun away from me, baby\nAh, run away\nRun away from me, baby (Look at ya, look at ya, look at ya)\nRun away\nWhen it starts to get crazy (Look at ya, look at ya, look at ya)\nThen run away\nBabe, I got a plan, run away as fast as you can\nRun away from me, baby\nRun away\nRun away from me, baby (Look at, look at, look at, look at, look at, look at, look at ya)\nRun away\nWhen it starts to get crazy (Look at ya, look at ya, look at ya, look at ya)\nWhy can't she just run away?\nBaby, I got a plan\nRun away as fast as you can (Look at ya, look at ya, look at ya)\nTwenty-four seven, three sixty-five, pussy stays on my mind\nI-I-I-I did it, alright, alright, I admit it\nNow pick your next move, you could leave or live with it\nIchabod Crane with that motherfuckin' top off\nSplit and go where? Back to wearing knockoffs?\nHaha, knock it off, Neimans, shop it off\nLet's talk over mai tais, waitress, top it off\nHoes like vultures, wanna fly in your Freddy loafers\nYou can't blame 'em, they ain't never seen Versace sofas\nEvery bag, every blouse, every bracelet\nComes with a price tag, baby, face it\nYou should leave if you can't accept the basics\nPlenty hoes in the baller-nigga matrix\nInvisibly set, the Rolex is faceless\nI'm just young, rich, and tasteless, P\n\nNever was much of a romantic\nI could never take the intimacy\nAnd I know I did damage\n'Cause the look in your eyes is killing me\nI guess you knew of that advantage\n'Cause you could blame me for everything\nAnd I don't know how I'ma manage\nIf one day, you just up and leave\nAnd I always find, yeah, I always find something wrong\nYou been puttin' up with my shit just way too long\nI'm so gifted at finding what I don't like the most\nSo I think it's time for us to have a toast\n\nLet's have a toast for the douchebags\nLet's have a toast for the assholes\nLet's have a toast for the scumbags\nEvery one of them that I know\nLet's have a toast for the jerk-offs\nThat'll never take work off\nBaby, I got a plan\nRun away fast as you can\n"}
{"text":"Strange fruit hangin' from the poplar trees\nBlood on the leaves\n\nI just need to clear my mind now\nIt's been racin' since the summertime\nNow I'm holdin' down the summer now\nAnd all I want is what I can't buy now\n'Cause I ain't got the money on me right now\nAnd I told you to wait\nYeah, I told you to wait\nSo I'ma need a little more time now\n'Cause I ain't got the money on me right now\nAnd I thought you could wait\nYeah, I thought you could wait\nThese bitches surroundin' me (Black bodies)\nAll want something out me\nThen they talk about me\nWould be lost without me\nWe could've been somebody\nThought you'd be different 'bout it\nNow I know you naughty\nSo let's get on with it\nYou might also like\nWe could've been somebody\n'Stead, you had to tell somebody\nLet's take it back to the first party\nWhen you tried your first molly\nAnd came out of your body\nAnd came out of your body\nRunning naked down the lobby\nAnd you were screamin' that you love me\nBefore the limelight tore ya\nBefore the limelight stole ya\nRemember we were so young\nWhen I would hold you\nBefore the blood on the leaves\nI know there ain't wrong with me\nSomething strange is happenin'\n\nYou could've been somebody\nWe could've, ugh, we could've been somebody\nOr was it on the first party\nWhen we tried our first molly\nAnd came out of our body\nAnd came out of our body\nBefore they call lawyers\nBefore you tried to destroy us\nHow you gon' lie to the lawyer?\nIt's like I don't even know ya\nI gotta bring it back to the 'nolia\nFuck them other niggas 'cause I'm down with my niggas\nFuck them other niggas 'cause I'm down with my niggas\nFuck them other niggas 'cause I'm down with my niggas\nI ride with my niggas, I'd die for my...\n\nTo all my second-string bitches, tryin' get a baby\nTryin' get a baby, now you talkin' crazy\nI don't give a damn if you used to talk to JAY-Z\nHe ain't with you, he with Beyonc\u00e9, you need to stop actin' lazy\nShe Instagram herself like #BadBitchAlert\nHe Instagram his watch like #MadRichAlert\nHe only wanna see that ass in reverse\nTwo-thousand-dollar bag with no cash in your purse\nNow you sittin' courtside, wifey on the other side\nGotta keep 'em separated, I call that apartheid\nThen she said she pregnant-ated, that's the night your heart died\nThen you gotta go into your girl and report that\nMain reason 'cause your pastor said you can't abort that\nNow your driver say that new Benz, you can't afford that\nAll that cocaine on the table, you can't snort that\nThat go into that, all that money that the court got\nAll in on that alimony, uh\nYeah-yeah, she got you, homie, yeah\n'Til death, but do your part, uh\nUnholy matrimony\nThat summer night holdin' long and long, 'din long\nNo waiting for the summer rose and (Breeze)\nAnd breathe and breathe\nAnd breathe and breathe\nAnd breathe and breathe\nAnd live and learn\nAnd live and learn\nAnd livin' and livin' like I\u2019m lonely\nLonely, lonely\nAnd livin' all I have\nAnd livin' all\nAnd live\nAnd live"}
{"text":"\nFor my theme song (Black)\nMy leather black jeans on (Black)\nMy by-any-means on\nPardon, I'm getting my scream on (Black)\nEnter the kingdom (Black)\nBut watch who you bring home\nThey see a black man with a white woman\nAt the top floor they gone come to kill King Kong\nMiddle America packed in (Black)\nCame to see me in my black skin (Black)\nNumber one question they're askin'\nFuck every question you askin' (Black)\nIf I don't get ran out by Catholics (Black)\nHere come some conservative Baptists\nClaiming I'm overreactin'\nLike them black kids in Chiraq, bitch\n\nFour in the mornin', and I'm zonin'\nThey say I'm possessed, it's an omen\nI keep it 300, like the Romans\nBaby, we livin' in the moment\nI've been a menace for the longest\nBut I ain't finished, I'm devoted\nAnd you know it, and you know it\nYou might also like\nSo follow me up cause this shit 'bout to go (Down)\nI'm doing 500, I'm outta control (Now)\nBut there's nowhere to go (Now)\nAnd there's no way to slow (Down)\nIf I knew what I knew in the past\nI would've been blacked out on your ass\n\nFour in the mornin', and I'm zonin'\nThey say I'm possessed, it's an omen\nI keep it 300, like the Romans\nBaby, we livin' in the moment\nI've been a menace for the longest\nBut I ain't finished, I'm devoted\nAnd you know it, and you know it\n\nStop all that coon shit (Black)\nEarly morning cartoon shit (Black)\nThis is that goon shit\nFuck up your whole afternoon shit\nI'm aware I'm a wolf\nSoon as the moon hit\nI'm aware I'm a king\nBack out the tomb, bitch (Black)\nBlack out the room, bitch (Black)\nStop all that coon shit (Black)\nThese niggas ain't doin' shit (Black)\nThem niggas ain't doin' shit\nCome on, homie, what happened?\nYou niggas ain't breathin', you gaspin'\nThese niggas ain't ready for action\nReady\u2014ready for action\u2014action\nFour in the mornin', and I'm zonin'\nI think I'm possessed, it's an omen\nI keep it 300 like the Romans\nBaby, we livin' in the moment\nI've been a menace for the longest\nBut I ain't finished, I'm devoted\nAnd you know it, and you know it\n\nSo follow me up 'cause this shit 'bout to go (Down)\nI'm doing 500, I'm outta control (Now)\nBut there's nowhere to go (Now)\nAnd there's no way to slow (Down)\nIf I knew what I knew in the past\nI would've been blacked out on your ass\n\nGod! God! God! God!\nGod! God! God! God!\nGod! God! God!"}
{"text":"La-di-da-da-a, da-a (I like this flavor)\nLa-da-da-da-di-da-da-a, la-a (La-a, la-a, la-a)\nLet me tell you, I'm out here\nFrom a very far away place\nAll for a chance to be a star\nNowhere seems to be too far\n\nNo more parties in L.A\nPlease, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh\nNo more parties in L.A\nPlease, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh\nNo more (Los Angeles)\nPlease (Shake that body, party that bod\u2014)\nPlease (Shake that body, party that bod\u2014)\nPlease (Shake that body, party that body)\n\nHey, baby, you forgot your Ray Bans\nAnd my sheets still orange from your spray-tan\nIt was more than soft porn for the K-Man\nShe remember my Sprinter, said \"I was in the grape van\"\nUm\u2014well, cutie, I like your bougie booty\nCome, Erykah Badu-me\u2014well, let's make a movie\nHell, you know my repertoire is like a wrestler\nI show you the ropes, connect the dots\nA country girl in North Hollywood\nMama used to cook red beans and rice\nNow it's Denny's, 4 in the morning, spoil your appetite\nLiquor pouring and niggas swarming your section with erection\nSmoke in every direction, middle finger pedestrians\nR&B singers and lesbians, rappers and managers\nMusic and iPhone cameras\nThis shit unanimous for you, it's damaging for you, I think\nThat pussy should only be holding exclusive rights to me, I mean\nHe flew you in this motherfucker on first class\nEven went out his way so you could check in an extra bag\nNow you wanna divide the yam like it equate the math?\nThat shit don't add up, you're making him mad as fuck\nShe said she came out here to find an A-list rapper\nI said, \"Baby, spin that 'round and say the alphabet backwards\"\nYou're dealing with malpractice, don't kill a good nigga's confidence\nJust 'cause he a nerd and you don't know what a condom is\nThe head still good, though; the head still good, though\nMake me say \"Nam Myoho Renge Kyo\"\nMake a nigga say big words and act lyrical\nMake me get spiritual, make me believe in miracles\nBuddhist monks and Cap'n Crunch cereal\nLord have mercy, thou will not hurt me\nFive buddies all herded up on a Thursday\nBottle service, head service, I came in first place\nThe opportunity, the proper top of breast and booty cheek\nThe pop community, I mean these bitches come with union fee\nAnd I want two of these, moving units through consumer streets\nThen my shoe released, she was kickin' in gratuity\nAnd yeah, G, I was all for it\nShe said, \"K-Lamar, you kinda dumb to be a poet\nI'ma put you on game for the lames that don't know they a rookie\nInstagram is the best way to promote some pussy\"\nYou might also like\nScary, scary\nNo more parties in L.A\nPlease, baby, no more parties in L.A\nFriday night, tryna make it into the city\nBreakneck speeds, passenger seat\u2014somethin' pretty\nThinking back to how I got here in the first place\nSecond-class bitches wouldn't let me on first base\nA backpack nigga with luxury tastebuds\nAnd the Louis Vuitton store got all of my pay stubs\nGot pussy from beats I did for niggas more famous\nWhen did I become A-list? I wasn't even on a list\nStrippers get invited to where they only got hired\nWhen I get on my Steve Jobs, somebody gon' get fired\nI was uninspired since Lauryn Hill retired\nAnd 3 Stacks, man, you preaching to the choir\nAny rumor you ever heard about me was true and legendary\nI done got Lewinsky'd and paid secretaries\nFor all my niggas with babies by bitches\nThat use they kids as meal tickets\nNot knowin' the disconnect from the father\nThe next generation will be the real victims\nI can't fault 'em, really\nI remember Amber told my boy\nNo matter what happens, she ain't goin' back to Philly\nBack to our regularly scheduled programmin'\nOf weak content and slow jammin'\nBut don't worry, this one's so jammin'\nYou know it, L.A., it's so jammin'\nI be thinkin' every day\nMulholland Drive need to put up some goddamn barricades\nI be paranoid every time, the pressure\nThe problem ain't I be drivin', the problem is I be textin'\nMy psychiatrist got kids that I inspired\nFirst song they played for me was 'bout their friend that just died\nTextin' and drivin' down Mulholland Drive\nThat's why I'd rather take the 405\nI be worried 'bout my daughter, I be worried 'bout Kim\nBut Saint is baby 'Ye, I ain't worried 'bout him\nHad my life threatened by best friends with selfish intents\nWhat I'm supposed to do?\nRide around with a bulletproof car and some tints?\nEvery agent I know, know I hate agents\nI'm too black, I'm too vocal, I'm too flagrant\nSomething smellin' like shit, that's the new fragrance\nIt's just me, I do it my way, bitch\nSome days I'm in my Yeezys, some days I'm in my Vans\nIf I knew y'all made plans, I wouldn't have popped the Xans\nI know some fans thought I wouldn't rap like this again\nBut the writer's block is over; emcees, cancel your plans\nA thirty-eight-year-old eight-year-old with rich nigga problems\nTell my wife that I hate the Rolls so I don't never drive it\nIt took six months to get the Maybach all matted out\nAnd my assistant crashed it soon as they backed it out\nGoddamn! Got a bald fade, I might slam\nPink fur, got Nori dressin' like Cam\nThank God for me! (Los Angeles)\nWhole family gettin' money, thank God for E!\nI love rockin' jewelry, a whole neckful\nBitches say he fun-ny and disrespectful\nI feel like Pablo when I'm workin' on my shoes\nI feel like Pablo when I see me on the news\nI feel like Pablo when I'm workin' on my house\nTell 'em party's in here, we don't need to go out\nWe need the turbo thots, high speed, turbo thots\nDrop-dro-dro-dro-drop, like Robocop\nShe brace herself and hold my stomach, good dick'll do that\nShe keep pushin' me back, good dick'll do that\nShe push me back when the dick go too deep\nThis good dick'll put your ass to sleep\nGet money (Money, money, money!)\nBig, big money (Money, money, money!)\nAnd as far as real friends, tell all my cousins I love 'em\nEven the one that stole the laptop, you dirty motherfucker!\nI just keep on lovin' you, baby\nAnd there's no one else I know can take your pla\u2014, pla\u2014, pla\u2014\nPlease, no more parties in L.A. (Shake that body, party that body)\nPlease, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh (Shake that body, party that body)\nNo more parties in L.A. (Los Angeles)\nPlease, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh\nNo more parties in L.A\nPlease, baby, no more parties in L.A., uh\n\nLet me tell you, I'm out here from a very far away place\nAll for a chance to be a star\nNowhere seems to be too far\nSwish"}
{"text":"\nI'm living in that 21st century, doing something mean to it\nDo it better than anybody you ever seen do it\nScreams from the haters got a nice ring to it\nI guess every superhero need his theme music\n\nNo one man should have all that power\nThe clock\u2019s ticking, I just count the hours\nStop tripping, I'm tripping off the power\n(21st-century schizoid man)\n\nThe system broken, the school's closed, the prison's open\nWe ain't got nothing to lose, motherfucker, we rolling\nHuh? Motherfucker, we rolling\nWith some light-skinned girls and some Kelly Rowlands\nIn this white man world, we the ones chosen\nSo goodnight, cruel world, I'll see you in the morning\nHuh? I'll see you in the morning\nThis is way too much, I need a moment\n\nNo one man should have all that power\nThe clock's ticking, I just count the hours\nStop tripping, I'm tripping off the power\n'Til then, fuck that, the world's ours\nAnd they say, and they say\nAnd they say, and they say\nAnd they say, and they say\n(21st-century schizoid man)\nYou might also like\nFuck SNL and the whole cast\nTell them Yeezy said they can kiss my whole ass\nMore specifically, they can kiss my asshole\nI'm an asshole? You niggas got jokes\nYou short-minded niggas' thoughts is Napoleon\nMy furs is Mongolian, my ice brought the goalies in\nI embody every characteristic of the egotistic\nHe knows he's so fuckin' gifted\nI just needed time alone with my own thoughts\nGot treasures in my mind, but couldn't open up my own vault\nMy childlike creativity, purity, and honesty\nIs honestly being crowded by these grown thoughts\nReality is catching up with me\nTaking my inner child, I'm fighting for custody\nWith these responsibilities that they entrusted me\nAs I look down at my diamond-encrusted piece\n\nThinking no one man should have all that power\nThe clock's ticking, I just count the hours\nStop tripping, I'm tripping off the powder\n'Til then, fuck that, the world\u2019s ours\nAnd they say, and they say\nAnd they say, and they say\nAnd they say, and they say\n(21st-century schizoid man)\nColin Powells, Austin Powers\nLost in translation with a whole fuckin' nation\nThey say I was the abomination of Obama's nation\nWell, that's a pretty bad way to start the conversation\nAt the end of the day, goddamnit, I'm killing this shit\nI know damn well y'all feeling this shit\nI don't need your pussy, bitch, I'm on my own dick\nI ain't gotta power trip, who you goin' home with?\nHow Ye doing? I'm survivin'\nI was drinkin' earlier, now I'm drivin'\nWhere the bad bitches, huh? Where you hidin'?\nI got the power make your life so excitin'\n\nNow this will be a beautiful death\nI'm jumping out the window, I'm letting everything go\nI'm letting everything go\nMmm, now this will be a beautiful death\nI'm jumping out the window, I'm letting everything go\nI'm letting everything go\nNow this will be a beautiful death\nJumping out the window, letting everything go\nLetting everything go\nYou got the power to let power go?\n(21st-century schizoid man)"}
{"text":"Man, I can understand how it might be\nKinda hard to love a girl like me\nI don't blame you much for wanting to be free\nI just wanted you to know\nWoo, woo\nSwizz told me let the beat rock (Oh)\nOh\n\nFor all my Southside niggas that know me best\nI feel like me and Taylor might still have sex\nWhy? I made that bitch famous (Goddamn)\nI made that bitch famous\nFor all the girls that got dick from Kanye West\nIf you see 'em in the streets give 'em Kanye's best\nWhy? They mad they ain't famous (Goddamn)\nThey mad they still nameless (Talk that talk, man)\nHer man in the store tryna try his best\nBut he just can't seem to get Kanye fresh\nBut we still hood famous (Goddamn)\nYeah, we still hood famous\n\nI just wanted you to know\nI've loved you better than your own kin did\nFrom the very start\nI don't blame you much for wanting to be free\nWake up, Mr. West! Oh, he's up!\nI just wanted you to know\nYou might also like\nI be Puerto Rican day parade floatin'\nThat Benz Marina Del Rey coastin'\nShe in school to be a real estate agent\nLast month I helped her with the car payment\nYoung and we alive, whoo!\nWe never gonna die, whoo!\nI just copped a jet to fly over personal debt\nPut one up in the sky\nThe sun is in my eyes, whoo!\nWoke up and felt the vibe, whoo!\nNo matter how hard they try, whoo!\nWe never gonna die\nI just wanted you to know\nGet 'em!\n\nBam, 'ey 'ey 'ey\nBam bam, bam, bam bam dilla\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nWhat a bam, bam, bam bam dilla\nHow you feeling right now? Let me see your lighters in the air\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey 'ey 'ey\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nWhat a bam\nLet me see your middle finger in the air\nBam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nBam bam, bam, bam bam dilla\nLet me see you act up in this motherfucker\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nWhat a bam, bam, bam bam dilla\nHow you feelin', how you feelin', how you feelin' in this mother fucker, God damn\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey 'ey 'ey\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nWhat a bam\nOne thing you can't do is stop us now\nBam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nBam bam bam, bam bam dilla\nAyy, you can't stop the thing now\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nWhat a bam, bam, bam bam dilla\nMan, it's way too late, it's way too late, it's way too late, you can't fuck with us\nBam bam, 'ey 'ey 'ey 'ey 'ey\nBam bam, 'ey 'ey 'ey\nWhat a bam\nTo the left, to the right\nBam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nBam bam bam, bam bam dilla\nI wanna see everybody hands in the air like this\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nWhat a bam, bam, bam bam dilla\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey 'ey 'ey\nBam bam 'ey 'ey 'ey\nWhat a bam, bam\nI just wanted you to know\nI loved you better than your own kin did\nFrom the very start\nI don't blame you much for wanting to be free\nI just wanted you to know"}
{"text":"Yeah, you supermodel thick\nDamn, that ass bustin' out the bottom\nI'ma lose my mind in it\nCrazy, that medulla oblongata\nGet to rubbin' on my lamp\nGet the genie out the bottle\n\nFuck it up, fuck it up\nPussy good, go 'n back it up\nPipe her up, I'ma pipe her up\nMake her mine, I done fell in love\nJuicy thing, make that pussy sing\nOne more time, baby, do it big\nMake it cry, come boohoo this shit\n\nYeah, you supermodel thick\nDamn, that ass bustin' out the bottom\nI'ma lose my mind in it\nCrazy, that medulla oblongata\nGet to rubbin' on my lamp\nGet the genie out the bottle\n\nIf I pull up with a Kerry Washington\nThat's gon' be an enormous scandal\nI could have Naomi Campbell\nAnd still might want me a Stormy Daniels\nSometimes you gotta bag the boss up\nI call that takin' Corey Gambles\nFind yourself up in the food court\nYou might have to enjoy a sample\nAll these thots on Christian Mingle\nAlmost what got Tristan single\nIf you don't ball like him or Kobe\nGuarantee that bitch gonna leave you\nAyy, time is extremely valuable\nAnd I prefer to waste it on girls that's basic\nThat's just some Ye shit\nRight now, let's do what we want\nLet's have a threesome: me, you, and a blunt\nI love your titties 'cause they prove\nI can focus on two things at once\nYou might also like\nYeah, you supermodel thick\nDamn, that ass bustin' out the bottom\nI'ma lose my mind in it\nCrazy, that medulla oblongata\nGet to rubbin' on my lamp\nGet the genie out the bottle\nGet the genie out the bottle\n\nLet me hit it raw like fuck the outcome\nAyy, none of us'd be here without cum\nAyy, if it ain't all about the income\nAyy, ayy, let me see you go ahead and spend some\nAyy, if you drivin' 'round in some Dri-Fit\nAyy, I'ma think that you the type to dry snitch\nHm, mhm, if I see you pull up with the three stripes\nAyy, ayy, I'ma fuck around and make you my bitch\n\nYeah, you supermodel thick\nDamn, that ass bustin' out the bottom\nI'ma lose my mind in it\nCrazy, that medulla oblongata\nGet to rubbin' on my lamp\nGet the genie out the bottle\nGet the genie out the bottle"}
{"text":"Someday, someday\nSomeday I'll, I wanna wear a starry crown\n\nSomeday, someday, someday\nI wanna lay down, like God did, on Sunday\nHold up, hold up\nSomeday, somedays, I remembered this on a Sunday\nBackway, yeah, way, way, burning, mhm-mhm\nUh, somedays, I'm gonna tell everybody\nSomedays I wanna hit the red dot on everybody\nSomedays, ohh (Heatstroke)\nEveryday I'm livin' high, I'm smokin' marijuana\nEveryday I'm livin' high, I do whatever I wanna, oh, yeah\n\nI've been tryin' to make you love me\nBut everything I try just takes you further from me\n\nSomeday we gon' set it off\nSomeday we gon' get this off\nBaby, don't you bet it all\nOn a pack of Fentanyl\nYou might think they wrote you off\nThey gon' have to rope me off\nSomeday the drama'll be gone\nAnd they'll play this song on and on\nSometimes I take all the shine\nTalk like I drank all the wine\nYears ahead but way behind\nI'm on one, two, three, four, five\nNo half-truths, just naked minds\nCaught between space and time\nThis not what they had in mind\nBut maybe someday\nYou might also like\nI've been tryin' to make you love me\nBut everything I try just takes you further from me\n\nWoah, once again I am a child\nI let it all go, of everything that I know, yeah\nOf everything that I know, yeah\nAnd nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free\nWe're still the kids we used to be, yeah, yeah\nI put my hand on a stove, to see if I still bleed, yeah\nAnd nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free\nWe're still the kids we used to be, yeah, yeah\nI put my hand on a stove, to see if I still bleed, yeah\nAnd nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free\nWe're still the kids we used to be, yeah, yeah\nI put my hand on a stove, to see if I still bleed, yeah\nAnd nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free\nWe're still the kids we used to be, yeah, yeah\nI put my hand on a stove, to see if I still bleed, yeah\nAnd nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free"}
{"text":"\nLost out, beat up\nDancin', down there\nI found you, somewhere out\n'Round 'round there, right right there\nLost and beat up\nDown there, dancin'\nI found you, somewhere out\nRight down there, right 'round there\n\nLost and found out\nTurned out, how you thought\nDaddy found out\nThat you turned out how you turned out\nIf mama knew now\nHow you turned out, you too wild\nYou too wild, you too wild\nYou too wild, I need you now\nLove you (Got to)\nLove you (Love you)\nFound you, found you\nRight now, right now\nRight now, right now\nIf your mama knew how\nYou turned out, you too wild\nYou too wild, you too wild\nYou too wild, and I need you now\nLost and found out\nYou might also like\nCry, I'm not sorry\nCry, who needs sorry when there's Hennessy?\nDon't fool yourself\nYour eyes don't lie, you're much too good to be true\nDon't fire fight\nYeah, I feel you burning, everything's burning\nDon't fly too high\nYour wings might melt, you're much too good to be true\nI'm just bad for you\nI'm just bad, bad, bad for you\nI was lost and beat up\nTurned out, burned up\nYou found me, through a heartache\nDidn't know me, you were drawn in\nI was lost and beat up\nI was warm flesh, on Caesar\nYou found me, in your gaze\nWell, I found me, oh, Jesus\nI was too wild, I was too wild\nI was too wild, I was too wild\nI was too wild, I was too wild\n\nAnd I need you now\nLost and found out\nYeah\nYou gotta let me know if I could be your Joseph\nOnly tell you real shit, that's the tea, no sip\nDon't trip, don't trip, that pussy slippery, no whip\nWe ain't trippin' on shit, we just sippin' on this\nJust forget the whole shit, we could laugh about nothin'\nI impreg-a-nate your mind, let's have a baby without fuckin', yo\nI know it's corny bitches you wish you could unfollow\nI know it's corny niggas you wish you could unswallow\nI know it's corny bitches you wish you could unfollow\nI know it's corny niggas you wish you could unswallow\nAyy, I know it's corny bitches you wish you could unfollow\nI know it's corny niggas you wish you could unswallow\nYou tried to play nice, everybody just took advantage\nYou left your fridge open, somebody just took a sandwich\nI said, \"Baby, what if you was clubbin'\nThuggin', hustlin' before you met your husband?\"\nThen I said, \"What if Mary was in the club\n'Fore she met Joseph, around hella thugs?\"\nCover Nori in lambs' wool\nWe surrounded by the fuckin' wolves\n(What if Mary) \"What if Mary\n(Was in the club) Was in the club\n'Fore she met Joseph with no love?\"\nCover Saint in lambs' wool\n(And she was) We surrounded by\n(Surrounded by) The fuckin' wolves"}
{"text":"I miss the old Kanye, straight from the Go Kanye\nChop up the soul Kanye, set on his goals Kanye\nI hate the new Kanye, the bad mood Kanye\nThe always rude Kanye, spaz in the news Kanye\nI miss the sweet Kanye, chop up the beats Kanye\nI gotta say, at that time I'd like to meet Kanye\nSee, I invented Kanye, it wasn't any Kanyes\nAnd now I look and look around and there's so many Kanyes\nI used to love Kanye, I used to love Kanye\nI even had the pink polo, I thought I was Kanye\nWhat if Kanye made a song about Kanye\nCalled \"I Miss The Old Kanye\"? Man, that'd be so Kanye\nThat's all it was Kanye, we still love Kanye\nAnd I love you like Kanye loves KanyeYou might also like"}
{"text":"She take my money when I'm in need\nYeah, she's a triflin' friend indeed\nOh, she's a gold digger\nWay over town that digs on me\n(Uh)\n(She give me money) Now, I ain't sayin' she a gold digger\n(When I'm in need) But she ain't messin' with no broke niggas\n(She give me money) Now, I ain't sayin' she a gold digger\n(When I'm in need) But she ain't messin' with no broke niggas\n\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head\nCutie the bomb, met her at a beauty salon\nWith a baby Louis Vuitton under her underarm\nShe said, \"I can tell you rock, I can tell by your charm\nFar as girls, you got a flock\nI can tell by your charm and your arm\"\nBut I'm lookin' for the one, have you seen her?\nMy psychic told me she'll have a ass like Serena\nTrina, Jennifer Lopez, four kids\nAnd I gotta take all they bad asses to ShowBiz?\nOkay, get your kids, but then they got their friends\nI pulled up in the Benz, they all got up in\nWe all went to din' and then I had to pay\nIf you fuckin' with this girl, then you better be paid\nYou know why? It take too much to touch her\nFrom what I heard she got a baby by Busta\nMy best friend said she used to fuck with Usher\nI don't care what none of y'all say, I still love her\nYou might also like\n(She give me money) Now, I ain't sayin' she a gold digger, uh\n(When I'm in need) But she ain't messin' with no broke niggas, uh\n(She give me money) Now, I ain't sayin' she a gold digger, uh\n(When I'm in need) But she ain't messin' with no broke niggas, uh\n\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head\nEighteen years, eighteen years\nShe got one of your kids, got you for eighteen years\nI know somebody payin' child support for one of his kids\nHis baby mama car and crib is bigger than his\nYou will see him on TV any given Sunday\nWin the Super Bowl and drive off in a Hyundai\nShe was supposed to buy your shorty Tyco with your money\nShe went to the doctor, got lipo with your money\nShe walkin' 'round lookin' like Michael with your money\nShoulda got that insured, Geico for your money\nIf you ain't no punk\nHolla, \"We want prenup! We want prenup!\" (Yeah!)\nIt's somethin' that you need to have\n\u2018Cause when she leave yo' ass, she gon' leave with half\nEighteen years, eighteen years\nAnd on the eighteenth birthday, he found out it wasn't his?\n(She give me money) Now, I ain't sayin' she a gold digger, uh\n(When I'm in need) But she ain't messin' with no broke niggas, uh\n(She give me money) Now, I ain't sayin' she a gold digger, uh\n(When I'm in need) But she ain't messin' with no broke niggas, uh\n\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head\nNow, I ain't sayin' you a gold digger, you got needs\nYou don't want a dude to smoke, but he can't buy weed\nYou go out to eat, he can't pay, y'all can't leave\nThere's dishes in the back, he gotta roll up his sleeves\nBut while y'all washin', watch him\nHe gon' make it to a Benz out of that Datsun\nHe got that ambition, baby, look at his eyes\nThis week, he moppin' floors, next week, it's the fries\nSo stick by his side\nI know there's dudes ballin', and yeah, that's nice\nAnd they gon' keep callin' and tryin', but you stay right, girl\nAnd when he get on, he'll leave yo' ass for a white girl\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head, get down\n(I gotta leave) Get down, girl, go 'head\n\nLet me hear that back"}
{"text":"Real friends, how many of us?\nHow many of us, how many jealous? Real friends\nIt's not many of us, we smile at each other\nBut how many honest? Trust issues\nSwitched up the number, I can't be bothered\nI cannot blame you for havin' an angle\nI ain't got no issues, I'm just doin' my thing\nHope you're doin' your thing too\nI'm a deadbeat cousin, I hate family reunions\nFuck the church up by drinkin' at the communion\nSpillin' free wine, now my tux is ruined\nIn town for a day, what the fuck we doin'?\nWho your real friends? We all came from the bottom\nI'm always blamin' you, but what's sad, you not the problem\nDamn, I forgot to call her, shit I thought it was Thursday\nWhy you wait a week to call my phone in the first place?\nWhen was the last time I remembered a birthday?\nWhen was the last time I wasn't in a hurry?\n\nTell me you want your tickets when it's gametime\nEven to call your daughter on her FaceTime\nEven when we was young I used to make time\nNow we be way too busy just to make time\nEven for my...\nYou might also like\nReal friends\nI guess I get what I deserve, don't I?\nWord on the streets is they ain't heard from him\nI guess I get what I deserve, don't I?\nTalked down on my name, throwed dirt on him\nI couldn't tell you how old your daughter was (Was)\nCouldn't tell you how old your son is (Is)\nI got my own Jr. on the way, dawg (Dawg)\nPlus I already got one kid (Kid)\nCouldn't tell you much about the fam though\nI just showed up for the yams though\nMaybe 15 minutes, took some pictures with your sister\nMerry Christmas, then I'm finished, then it's back to business\nYou wanna ask some questions 'bout some real shit? (Shit)\nLike I ain't got enough pressure to deal with (With)\nPlease don't pressure me with that bill shit (Shit)\n'Cause everybody got 'em that ain't children\nOh you've been nothin' but a friend to me\nNiggas thinkin' I'm crazy, you defendin' me\nIt's funny I ain't spoke to niggas in centuries\nTo be honest, dawg, I ain't feelin' your energy\nMoney turn your kin into an enemy\nNiggas ain't real as they pretend to be\nLookin' for real friends\nHow many of us? How many of us are real friends\nTo real friends, 'til the reel end\n'Til the wheels fall off, 'til the wheels don't spin (Yeah yeah)\nTo 3 A.M., callin'\nHow many real friends?\nJust to ask you a question\nJust to see how you was feelin'\nHow many?\nFor the last you was frontin'\nI hate when a nigga text you like, \"What's up, fam? Hope you good\"\nYou say, \"I'm good, I'm great,\" the next text they ask you for somethin'\nHow many?\nWhat's best for your family, immediate or extended\nAny argument, the media'll extend it\nI had a cousin that stole my laptop that I was fuckin' bitches on\nPaid that nigga 250 thousand just to get it from him\nReal friends\nHuh?\n\nReal friends\nI guess I get what I deserve, don't I\nWord on the streets is they ain't heard from him\nUh, I guess I get what I deserve, don't I\nTalked down on my name, throwed dirt on him"}
{"text":"What? Yeah\nBoy (What?)\n\nWe off the grid, grid, grid\nThis for my kid, kid, kid\nFor when my kid kid kids have kids\nEverything we did for the crib\n\nEverything we did, how we live (What?)\nAll this smoke got a scent\nAll that smoke heaven sent (Scent)\nEverything I spoke, what I meant (Ah)\nNever disguise my intent, lines outside the event\nBrought my life out the trench\nGod, thank God, look what He did, did, did, did, did, did\nWe off the grid, grid, grid, grid, grid (Ayy)\nWhat?\nWe off the grid, grid, grid, grid\nI'm off the grid (Homicide, homicide, what?)\nGot tats on my ribs (Ah), tattoos on my ribs (What?)\nI just tatt\u0435d my kid, Onyx (Slatt)\nI just threw twenty K on thes\u0435 ****, we was at Onyx (Ah, what?)\nI just bought me some brand new clothes, Dover Street Market (Givenchy)\nAyy, we just took the route to Charlotte (Yeah, ah, what? Yeah)\nI'm in the Rolls-Royce **** on\u2014what you call it? (Yeah, yeah)\nI light a opp blunt and let your **** try it (Ah)\nUh, them off the grid, I'm on a **** diet (What?)\nYou might also like\nWe off the grid, grid, grid, grid\nThis for my kid, kid, kid, kid\nEverything we did for the crib did here\nFlexin' with the business trip\nGoing cray, take some G6\nLit, lit, '76\nHe spit this\nWe off the grid, grid, grid\n\nYeah, look, when I was in jail, I was lowkey (Uh)\nShout out to supporters that wrote me\nEat food, work out and then go sleep\nYou know I'm prayin', He carryin' both feet (Yeah)\n**** know we got God with us (God with us)\nYou look at me and see a God figure (Uh)\nAnd when I start vibin', I know that He with me\nAnd I'ma always catch a hard shiver (Uh)\nI know it's demons in that dark liquor (Uh)\nWe buy a bottle and squash with ya (Uh)\nEverybody turn into a harsh ****\nBut my pockets bigger and my heart richer (Uh)\nMy mind smarter, my grind harder (Skrr)\nAnd my car quicker (Skrrt)\nI met her in church, she pray for me\nShe my God-sister (She my God-sister, yeah)\nI'm only trustin' the people I keep close\n**** sellin' they soul for a repost\nRemember when I was broke, wearin' cheap coats\nNow it's diamonds and houses and C notes (Uh)\n****, I'm feelin' marvelous (I'm feelin' marvelous)\nWho let the monster loose? (Who let the monster loose? Huh)\nThey call me a product of my environment (Uh)\nI tell them, \"Nah, I'm what God produced\" (Baow)\nDefense good, and them guards can shoot (Baow)\nI put 'em on you, it get hard to move\nTattoo in my face is the mark of truth\nGotta watch what you say when they market you (Huh)\nI already predicted this (I already predicted this, huh)\nY'all only witnessed it (Y'all only witnessed it)\nLook, got a couple old friends that I'm not really clickin' with\nI know they pray that we settle our differences\nI pray that they lower all my **** sentences\nI got some demons I'm not even dealin' with\nThey in they feelings, I'm not really feelin' it\nAnd I know some members that gave back they membership\n****, you switched up, huh, like how you not feelin' me?\nLook, I act like I care, but I don't really care\nNow I live in a new buildin' with amenities\nI got a new ceilin' with a chimney\nI got a few **** wanna finish me\nI don't get too friendly with the enemy\nYou gotta move different when you in the industry, woo, yeah\nYou gotta move different when you in the industry, huh\nYou gotta move different when you in the, look\nGod blessed me with amazing grace (Uh)\nShe fell in love with my day to day (Uh)\nI just want my problems to fade away (Uh)\nMan, I'm tired of ****, I need Gatorade\nBoy, I got on my feet and I made a name\nAnd I made it a necklace, huh\nWhen you from the bottom and you workin' hard\nJust to get to the top, then they gotta respect it\nIf you got a voice, then you gotta project it\nIf you got a wrong, then you gotta correct it\nIf you got a name, then you gotta protect it\nIf you give me shock, then you gotta electric (Woo)\nTryna live a new life, so I got a new plan that I gotta finesse with (Look, yeah)\n'Cause they want me to lose, they ain't part of the Woos\nI been tryin' so hard not to move reckless\nWe off the grid, grid, grid\nThis for my kid, kid, kid, kid\nEverything we did for the crib did here\nFlexin\u2019 with the business trip\nGoing cray, take some G6 (Ah)\nLit, lit, '76\nHe split lids, then ask for shade, tsk-tsk-tsk\nTake this trip, trip, trip, this, this\nThis, this, this, this\nYou all still lit, lit, lit\nI'm off the grid, grid, grid, grid\nOff the grid, grid, grid, grid\n\nFirst, it go viral, then they get digital\nThen they get critical, no, I'm not doin' no interview\nMask on my face, you can't see what I'm finna do\nHad to move away from people that's miserable\nDon't wanna link you, I ain't finna sit with you\nAin't finna talk to you, ain't finna get with you\nDon't get me mad 'cause I don't wanna injure you\nShe put my paintings inside of her living room\nLook at the problems and issues I'm livin' through\nThey tryna drown me, I rise to my pinnacle\nWalked through the block like the neighborhood general\nDrop me the lo' and then that's where I send it to\nI was forgettin' you, now I remember, now I remember\nDid what I want and I say what I want\nAnd I thought you was with me, like how you get sensitive?\nI got this God power, that's my leverages\nI got this Holy Water, that's my beverages\nI gotta help myself out of selfishness\nI just bought a floor out of Selfridges\nI gotta make sure they know who they messin' with\nI gotta tell 'em \"sorry,\" they too delicate\nI gotta stay with God where the blessings is\nI ain't deliverin' Heavenly messages just for the hell of it\nDon't try to test me, I keep it clean, but it can get messy\nI talk to God every day, that's my bestie\nThey playin' soccer in my backyard, I think I see Messi\nAnd this money could never neglect me\nI pray that my family, they never resent me\nAnd she fell in love with me soon as she met me\nWe both got a bag but my bag is more heavy\nWe had to stop countin', it's gettin' too petty\nYou not a real stepper, you can't overstep me\nJust sit back and listen and watch how He bless me\nHe wait 'til I fall and then pull up and catch me\nYour check is too small, you can't run up and check me\nNah, nah, I get 'em fast, see\nYou feel a way, then go pull up and get me\nMight do somethin' wild if I feel like you press me\nNah, I get 'em fast, see\nYou feel a way, then go pull up and get me\nMight do somethin' wild if I feel like you press me\nWe off the grid, grid, grid\nThis for my kid, kid, kid\nFor when my kid, kid, kids have kids\nEverything we did for the crib\n\nPray for what folks and them did\nOnly thing we pray God forgive-give-give\nMay God forbid-bid-bid\nHe hit one of the kids, kids, kids\nTook off His list, list, list\nLook what they did, did, did\nPray for the crib, crib, crib\nSome say A-A-Adam could never be bla-a-ack\n'Cause a black man'll never share his rib, rib, rib, rib, rib, rib"}
{"text":"La, la, la la (Yeah)\nWait 'til I get my money right\n\nI had a dream I could buy my way to Heaven\nWhen I awoke, I spent that on a necklace\nI told God I'd be back in a second\nMan, it's so hard not to act reckless\nTo whom much is given, much is tested\nGet arrested, guess until he get the message\nI feel the pressure, under more scrutiny\nAnd what I do? Act more stupidly\nBought more jewelry, more Louis V\nMy mama couldn't get through to me\nThe drama, people suing me\nI'm on TV talking like it's just you and me\nI'm just saying how I feel, man\nI ain't one of the Cosbys, I ain't go to Hillman\nI guess the money should've changed him\nI guess I should've forgot where I came from\n\nLa, la, la la (Ayy!)\nWait 'til I get my money right\nLa, la, la la (Yeah!)\nThen you can't tell me nothing, right?\nExcuse me, was you saying something?\nUh-uh, you can't tell me nothing (Yeah! Haha!)\nYou can't tell me nothing (Yeah! Yeah!)\nUh-uh, you can't tell me nothing (Yeah!)\nYou might also like\nLet up the suicide doors\nThis is my life, homie, you decide yours\nI know that Jesus died for us\nBut I couldn't tell ya who decide wars\nSo I parallel double-parked that motherfucker sideways\nOld folks talking 'bout, \"Back in my day\"\nBut homie, this is my day\nClass started two hours ago, oh, am I late?\nNo, I already graduated\nAnd you can live through anything if Magic made it\nThey say I talk with so much emphasis\nOoh, they so sensitive\nDon't ever fix your lips like collagen\nAnd say something when you gon' end up apolog'ing\nLet me know if it's a problem then\nAight, man, holla, then\n\nLa, la, la la\nWait 'til I get my money right\nLa, la, la la (Yeah!)\nThen you can't tell me nothing, right?\nExcuse me, was you saying something?\nUh-uh, you can't tell me nothing\nYou can't tell me nothing\nUh-uh, you can't tell me nothing\nLet the champagne splash, let that man get cash\nLet that man get past\nHe don't even stop to get gas\nIf he can move through the rumors\nHe can drive off of fumes 'cause\nHow he move in a room full of no's?\nHow he stay faithful in a room full of hoes?\nMust be the pharaohs, he in tune with his soul\nSo when he buried in a tomb full of gold\nTreasure, what's your pleasure?\nLife is a\u2013uh\u2013depending how you dress her\nSo if the Devil wear Prada, Adam Eve wear nada\nI'm in between, but way more fresher\nWith way less effort\n'Cause when you try hard, that's when you die hard\nYour homies looking like, \"Why, God?\"\nWhen they reminisce over you, my God\n\nLa, la, la la\nWait 'til I get my money right\nLa, la, la la\nThen you can't tell me nothing, right?\nExcuse me, was you saying something?\nUh-uh, you can't tell me nothing\nYou can't tell me nothing\nUh-uh, you can't tell me nothing\nLa, la, la la\nWait 'til I get my money right\nLa, la, la la\nThen you can't tell me nothing, right?\n(I'm serious, nigga, I got money)\n"}
{"text":"\nUh\nUh\nI love it, though\nI love it, though, huh, you know?\nUh, put your hands to the constellations\nThe way you look should be a sin, you my sensation\nI know I'm preachin' to the congregation\nWe love Jesus, but you done learned a lot from Satan\nI mean, a nigga did a lot of waiting\nWe ain't married, but tonight I need some consummation\n\nMay the Lord forgive us, may the gods be with us\nIn that magic hour, I seen good Christians\nMake brash decisions, oh, she do it\nWhat happened to religion? Oh, she lose it\nShe putting on her makeup, she casually allure\nText message break-ups, the casualty of tour\nHow she gon' wake up and not love me no more?\nI thought I was the asshole, I guess it's rubbin' off\nHood phenomenon, the LeBron of rhyme\nHard to be humble when you stunting on a jumbotron\nI'm looking at her like, \"This what you really wanted, huh?\"\nWhy we argue anyway? Oh, I forgot, it's summertime\nYou might also like\nPut your hands to the constellations\nThe way you look should be a sin, you my sensation\nI know I'm preachin' to the congregation\nWe love Jesus, but she done learned a lot from Satan\nSatan, Satan, Satan\nI mean, a nigga did a lot of waiting\nWe ain't married, but tonight I need some consummation\n\nWhen the sun go down, it's the magic hour, the magic hour\nAnd outta all the colors that'll fill up the skies\nYou got green on your mind, I can see it in your eyes\nWhy you standing there with your face screwed up?\nDon't leave while you're hot, that's how Mase screwed up\nThrowin' shit around, the whole place screwed up\nMaybe I should call Mase so he could pray for us\nI hit the Jamaican spot, at the bar, take a seat\nI ordered the jerk, she said you are what you eat\nYou see, I always loved that sense of humor\nBut tonight, you should have seen how quiet the room was\nThe Lyor Cohen of Dior Homme\nThat's \"Dior Homme,\" not \"Dior, homie\"\nThe crib Scarface, could it be more Tony?\nYou love me for me, could you be more phony?\nPut your hands to the constellations\nThe way you look should be a sin, you my sensation\nHaven't said a word, haven't said a word to me this evening\nCat got your tongue?\n\nLookin' at my bitch, I bet she give your ass a bone\nLookin' at my wrist, it'll turn your ass to stone\nStretch limousine, sipping ros\u00e9 all alone\nDouble-headed monster with a mind of his own\nCherry-red chariot, excess is just my character\nAll-black tux, nigga's shoes lavender\nI never needed acceptance from all you outsiders\nHad cyphers with Yeezy before his mouth wired (Uh)\nBefore his jaw shattered, climbing up the Lord's ladder\nWe still speedin', running signs like they don't matter, uh\nHater talkin' never made me mad\nNever that, not when I'm in my favorite paper tag\nTherefore, G4s at the Clearport\nWhen it come to tools, fool, I'm a Pep Boy\nWhen it came to dope, I was quick to export\nNever tired of ballin', so it's on to the next sport\nNew Mercedes sedan, the Lex' sport\nSo many cars, DMV thought it was mail fraud\nDifferent traps I was gettin' mail from\nPolk County, Jacksonville, right in Melbourne\nWhole clique appetites had tapeworms\nSpinnin' Teddy Pendergrass vinyl as my J burns\nI shed a tear before the night's over\nGod bless the man I put this ice over (Uh)\nGetting 2Pac money twice over\nStill a real nigga, red Coogi sweater, dice-roller\nI'm makin' love to the angel of death\nCatchin' feelings, never stumble, retracin' my steps (Uh)\nUh"}
{"text":"Ain't no question if I want it, I need it\nI can feel it slowly drifting away from me\nI'm on the edge, so why you playing? I'm saying\nI will never ever let you live this down, down, down\nNot for nothing, I've foreseen it, I dreamed it\nI can feel it slowly drifting away from me\nNo more chances, if you blow this, you bogus\nI will never ever let you live this down, down, down\nPenitentiary chances, the devil dances\nAnd eventually answers to the call of autumn\nAll them fallin' for the love of ballin'\nGot caught with thirty rocks, the cop look like Alec Baldwin\nInter-century anthems based off inner-city tantrums\nBased off the way we was branded\nFace it, Jerome get more time than Brandon\nAnd at the airport, they check all through my bag\nAnd tell me that it's random\nBut we stay winning\nThis week has been a bad massage, I need a happy ending\nAnd a new beginning and a new fitted\nAnd some job opportunities that's lucrative\nThis the real world, homie, school finished\nThey done stole your dreams, you don't know who did it\nI treat the cash the way the government treats AIDS\nI won't be satisfied 'til all my niggas get it, get it?\nYou might also like\nAin't no question if I want it, I need it\nI can feel it slowly drifting away from me\nI'm on the edge, so why you playing? I'm saying\nI will never ever let you live this down, down, down\nIs hip-hop just a euphemism for a new religion?\nThe soul music of the slaves that the youth is missing\nBut this is more than just my road to redemption\nMalcolm West had the whole nation standing at attention\nAs long as I'm in Polo smiling, they think they got me\nBut they'd try to crack me if they ever see a Black me\nI thought I chose a field where they couldn't sack me\nIf a nigga ain't shootin' a jumpshot, runnin' a track meet\nBut this pimp is at the top of Mount Olympus\nReady for the world's games, this is my Olympics\nWe make 'em say ho 'cause the game is so pimpish\nChoke a South Park writer with a fishstick\nI insisted to get up off of this dick\nAnd these drugs, niggas can't resist it\nRemind me when they tried to have Ali enlisted\nIf I ever wasn't the greatest, nigga, I must have missed it\nAin't no question if I want it, I need it\nI can feel it slowly drifting away from me\nI'm on the edge, so why you playing? I'm saying\nI will never ever let you live this down, down, down\nI need more drinks and less lights\nAnd that American Apparel girl in just tights\nShe told the director she tryna get in a school\nHe said, \"Take them glasses off and get in the pool\"\nIt's been a while since I watched the tube\n'Cause like a Crip set, I got way too many blues for any more bad news\nI was looking at my resume, feeling real fresh today\nThey rewrite history, I don't believe in yesterday\nAnd what's a Black Beatle anyway, a fuckin' roach?\nI guess that's why they got me sitting in fuckin' coach\nMy guy said I need a different approach\n'Cause people is looking at me like I'm sniffin' coke\nIt's not funny anymore, try different jokes\nTell 'em hug and kiss my ass, X and O\nAnd kiss the ring while they at it, do my thing while I got it\nPlay strings for the dramatic ending of that wack shit\nAct like I ain't had a belt in two classes\nI ain't got it, I'm coming after whoever who has it\nI'm coming after whoever, who has it?\nYou blowin' up, that's good, fantastic\nThat, y'all, it's like that, y'all\nI don't really give a fuck about it at all\n'Cause the same people that tried to blackball me\nForgot about two things, my Black balls\nAin't no question if I want it, I need it\nI can feel it slowly drifting away from me\nI'm on the edge, so why you playing? I'm saying\nI will never ever let you live this down, down, down\nAyy, yo\nI done copped Timbs, lived in lenses, kid\nArmani suits, fresh fruits, Bally boots, and Benzes\nCounting up, smoking, one cuff\nLive as a red Jag', a Louis bag, grabbin' a blunt, fuck it\nSteam about a hundred and one L's\nKites off to jails, buyin' sweats, running up in Stetson\nNigga hat game was special\nIt matched every black pair of Nikes, throwing dice for decimals\nThe older head, bolder head, would train a soldier head\nMake sure he right in the field, not a soldier dead\nThat meant code red, bent off the black skunk\nThe black Dutch, back of the old shed\nIf you can't live, you dying, you give or buy in\nKeep it real or keep it moving, keep grinding\nKeep shining, to every young man, this is a plan\nLearn from others like your brothers Rae and Kanye\n\nNot for nothing, I've forseen it, I dreamed it\nI can feel it slowly drifting away from me\nNo more chances, if you blow this, you bogus\nI will never ever let you live this down, down, down"}
{"text":"Faaaaaaaa\u2014 (Perfect)\nFaaaaaaaa\u2014\nFaaaaaaaa\u2014\nFaaaaaaaa\u2014\nI told, I told, ayy-ayy, I told you\n\nUp in the mornin', miss you bad\nSorry I ain't call you back, same problem my father had\nAll this time, all he had, all he had\nAnd what he dreamed, all his cash\nMarket crashed, hurt him bad\nPeople get divorced for that\nDropped some stacks, pops is good\nMama passed in Hollywood\nIf you ask, lost my soul\nDrivin' fast, lost control\nOff the road, jaw was broke\n'Member we all was broke\n'Member I'm comin' back\nI'll be takin' all the stacks, oh\nI got broads in Atlanta\nTwistin' dope, lean, and the Fanta\nStacks, oh\nCredit cards and the scammers\nHittin' off licks in the bando\nTakin' all the stacks, oh\nBlack X6, Phantom\nWhite X6 looks like a panda\nStacks, oh\nGoing out like I'm Montana\nHundred killers, hundred hammers\nBlack X6, Phantom\nWhite X6, panda\nPockets swole, Danny\nSellin' bar, candy\nMan I'm the macho like Randy\nThe choppa go Oscar for Grammy\nBitch nigga, pull up ya panty\nHope you killas understand me\nYou might also like\nI just wanna feel liberated, I, I, I (Hey)\nI just wanna feel liberated, I, I, I (Panda)\nPanda, panda, panda, panda\nTakin' all the stacks, oh\nI got broads in Atlanta\nTwist the dope, lean and shit, sippin' Fanta\nStacks, oh\nCredit cards and the scammers\nWake up Versace, shit like Desiigner\nTakin' all the stacks, oh\nWhole bunch of lavish shit\nThey be askin' 'round town who be clappin' shit\nI be pullin' up stuff in the Phantom ship\nI got plenty of stuff of Bugatti, whip look how I try this shit\nBlack X6, Phantom\nWhite X6, killin' on camera\n\nMy joy\n\nHow can I find you?\nWho do you turn to?\nHow do I bind you?\nIf I don't turn to you\nNo other help I know, I stretch my hands"}
{"text":"You might think you've peeped the scene\nYou haven't, the real one's far too mean\nThe watered-down one, the one you know\nWas made up centuries ago\nThey made it sound all wack and corny\nYes, it's awful blasted boring\nTwisted fictions, sick addiction\nWell, gather 'round, children, zip it, listen\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh (Oh)\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh (Oh)\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh\nYou might also like\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nI fantasized 'bout this back in Chicago\nMercy, mercy me, that Murci\u00e9lago\nThat's me the first year that I blow\nHow you say broke in Spanish? Mi no hablo\nMe drown sorrow in that Diablo\nMe found bravery in my bravado\nDJs need to listen to the models\nYou ain't got no fuckin' Yeezy in your Serato? (You ain't got no Yeezy, nigga?)\nStupid, but what the hell do I know?\nI'm just a Chi-Town nigga with a Nas flow\nAnd my chick in that new Phoebe Philo\nSo much head, I woke up to Sleepy Hollow\nCan we get much higher?\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh\n\nLook like a fat booty Celine Dion\nSex is on fire, I'm the King of Leona Lewis\nBeyond the truest\nHey, teacher, teacher, tell me how do you respond to students?\nAnd refresh the page and restart the memory?\nRe-spark the soul and rebuild the energy?\nWe stopped the ignorance, we killed the enemy\nSorry for the night demons that still visit me\nThe plan was to drink until the pain over\nBut what's worse, the pain or the hangover?\nFresh air, rollin' down the window\nToo many Urkels on your team, that's why your wins low\nDon't make me pull the toys out, huh\nDon't make me pull the toys\nAnd fire up the engines, huh\nAnd then they make noise\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh\nAt the mall, there was a seance\nJust kids, no parents\nThen the sky filled with herons\nSaw the devil in a Chrysler LeBaron\nAnd the hell, it wouldn't spare us\nAnd the fires did declare us\nBut after that, took pills, kissed an heiress\nAnd woke up back in Paris\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh\n\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh (Oh)\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh (Oh)\nCan we get much higher? (So high)\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh, oh"}
{"text":"Yeah-yeah, 9:08 L.A. time\nBack in the lab and shit\n\nMy wife said, I can't say no to nobody\nAnd at this rate, we gon' both die broke\nGot friends that ask me for money knowin' I'm in debt\nAnd like my wife said, I still didn't say no\nPeople tryna say I'm goin' crazy on Twitter\nMy friends' best advice was to stay low\nI guess it's hard to decipher all of the bills\nEspecially when you got family members on payroll\nThe media said it was outlandish spendin'\nThe media said he's way out of control\nI just feel like I'm the only one not pretendin'\nI'm not out of control, I'm just not in their control\nI know I'm the most influential\nThat TIME cover was just confirmation\nThis generation's closest thing to Einstein\nSo don't worry about me, I'm fine\nI can see a thousand years from now in real life\nSkate on the paradigm and shift it when I feel like\nTroll conventional thought, don't need to question\nI know it's antiquated so sometimes I get aggressive\nThank God for Jay Electra, he down with the mission\nDid it with no permission, on our own conditions\nMost blacks with money have been beaten to submission\nYeezy with the big house, did it way different\nNever listen to Hollywood producers\nDon't stare at money too long, it's Medusa\nThe ultimate Gemini has survived\nI wasn't supposed to make it past 25\nYou might also like\nYeah, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\nWonderin' whether God's gonna say hi\nOh, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\nAnd you wonder where is God in your nightlife\nYeah, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\n(Father, Father, Father in the night sky)\nWonderin' whether God's gonna say hi\nYeah, I feel like I'm home, yeah, yeah\n\nI've been wakin' the spirits of millions more to come\nA million illegally downloaded my truth over the drums\nI believe in the children, listen to the kids, bro\nIf the phone ringin', go and get your kids, ho\nBrother Don Muhammad told the minister about the presentation\nHe sat back and smiled\nBlack on black lies is worse than black on black crime\nThe Jews share their truth on how to make a dime\nMost black men couldn't balance a checkbook\nBut buy a new car, talkin' 'bout, \"How my neck look?\"\nWell, it all looks great\nFour hundred years later, we buyin' our own chains\nThe light is before us brothers, so the devil workin' hard\nReal family stick together and see through the mirage\nThe smokescreens, perceptions of false reality\nWho the real owner if your boss gets a salary?\nI am one with the people\nI am one with the people (Real!)\nI've been woken from enlightened man's dream\nCheckin' Instagram comments to crowdsource my self-esteem\nLet me not say too much or do too much\n'Cause if I'm up way too much, I'm out of touch\nI'm prayin' a out-of-body experience will happen\nSo the people can see my light, now it's not just rappin'\nGod, I have humbled myself before the court\nDrop my ego when confidence was my last resort\nI know, I know He got a plan, I know I'm on Your beams\nOne set of footsteps, You was carryin' me\nWhen I turned on the news and they was buryin' me\nOne set of footsteps, You was carryin' me\nWhen I was negotiatin' with Apple, it was Larry and me\nTold Tim Cook to call me, I was scary to see\nI would've took a hundred million and gave twenty to Hov\nI heard it's the way they did it when we only had a stove\nBut it's better that I stayed at home with my folks\n'Cause if Jay a billionaire then I'ma never go broke\nOnly thing I ask is next time I'm on stage we all go\nWe all go\nNot just by myself, lookin' for niggas like where's Waldo\nShe got the same shoes as my wife but she copped 'em at Aldo\nModern-day MJ, with a off-the-wall flow\nNightlife, walk all over me\nWalk all over me\nI'm deliverin' everything I've ever sent that you'll bring\nFly, fly, fly overseas\nFly overseas\nOh, anywhere, everything but in between\nOh, yeah\n\nYeah, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\nWonderin' whether God's gonna say hi\nOh, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\nAnd you wonder where is God in your nightlife\nYeah, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\nWonderin' whether God's gonna say hi\n(Father, Father, Father in the night sky)\nOh, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\nAnd you wonder where is God in your nightlife\n(Father, Father, Father in the night sky)\n\nPlease face me when I speak\nPlease say to me somethin' before you leave\nYou've been treatin' me like I'm invisible, now I'm visible to you\nOh, the invisible truth stay sober\nI can't quite understand the games you play\nUnderstand, understand, understand I'm standin' under oath\nAnd I promised I, I wouldn't fall anymore\nBut I'm cryin' at the bar\nI'm wishin' that you saw my scars, man\nI'm wishin' that you came down here and stood by me\nAnd looked at me like you knew me\nBut I feel so alone\nLike I don't know anyone except the night sky above\nYeah, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\nWonderin' whether God's gonna say hi\nOh, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\nAnd you wonder where is God in your nightlife\nYeah, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\n(Father, Father, Father in the night sky)\nWonderin' whether God's gonna say hi\nOh, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky\nAnd you wonder where is God in your nightlife\n(Father, Father, Father in the night sky)"}
{"text":"I can hold my liquor\nBut this man can\u2019t handle his weed\nDark and lonely now\nOn Chicago, south of town\nI'm onto Indiana\nI heard it in the radio now\nI can't handle no liquor\nBut these bitches can't handle me\nI can't control my niggas\nAnd my niggas, they can't control me\nYou say you know me, my nigga\nBut you really just know the old me\nBitch, I'm back out my coma\nWakin' up on your sofa\nWhen I parked my Range Rover\nSlightly scratched your Corolla\nOkay, I smashed your Corolla\nI'm hangin' on a hangover\nFive years we been over\nAsk me why I came over\nOne more hit and I can own ya\nOne more fuck and I can own ya\nOne cold night in October\nPussy had me floatin'\nFeel like Deepak Chopra\nPussy had me dead\nMight call 2Pac over\nYeezy's all on your sofa\nThese the Red Octobers\nStill ain't learn me no manners\nYou love me when I ain't sober\nYou love me when I'm hungover\nEven when I blow doja\nThen her auntie came over\nSkinny bitch with no shoulders\nTellin' you that I'm bogus\nBitch, you don't even know us\n\"Baby girl, he's a loner\nBaby girl, he's a loner\"\nLate-night organ donor\nAfter that, he disown ya\nAfter that, he's just hopeless\nSoul mates become soulless\n\"When it's over, it's over\"\nAnd, bitch, I'm back out my coma\nYou might also like\nCallin' up your uncle's place\nShit's all over the place\nI don't hear your phone\nOh, I wanna phone home\nI can't handle no liquor\nBut these bitches can't handle me\nI can't control my niggas\nAnd my niggas, they can't control me\nYou say you know me, my nigga\nBut you really just know the old me\n\nI heard you need a new fad (A new girl, a new girl)\nI heard you need a new stack (A new girl, a new girl)\nI heard you need a new phone (A new girl, a new girl)\nI know your 'rents ain't be home (A new girl, a new girl)\n\nCallin' up your uncle's place (A new girl, a new girl)\nShit's all over the place (A new girl, a new girl)\nI don't hear your phone (A new girl, a new girl)\nOh, I wanna phone home (A new girl, a new girl)"}
{"text":"I been waiting for a minute\nFor my lady\nSo I can't jeopardize that for one of these hoes\nI been livin' without limits\nAs far as my business\nI'm the only one that's in control\nI been feeling all I've given\nFor my children\nI will die for those I love\nGod, I'm willing\nTo make this my mission\nGive up the women\nBefore I lose half of what I own\nI been thinking\n'Bout my vision\nPour out my feelings\nRevealing the layers to my soul\nMy soul\nThe layers to my soul\nRevealing the layers to my soul\nThey wish I would go ahead and fuck my life up\nCan't let them get to me\nAnd even though I always fuck my life up\nOnly I can mention me\nYou might also like\nSee, before I let you go\nOne last thing I need to let you know\nYou ain't never seen nothing crazier than\nThis nigga when he off his Lexapro\nRemember that last time in Mexico?\nRemember that last time, the episode?\nAsking me why the hell I text in code?\nFour times just to say, \"Don't text me, ho\"\nTold you four times, \"Don't test me, ho\"\nAnd we finna lose all self-control\nBut you ain't finna be raising your voice at me\nEspecially when we in the Giuseppe store\nBut I'ma have the last laugh in the end\n'Cause I'm from a tribe called \"Check-a-ho\"\nYeah, I'ma have to laugh in the end\n'Cause I'm from a tribe called \"Check-a-ho\"\nAnd I...\nThey wish I would go ahead and fuck my life up\nCan't let them get to me\nAnd even though I always fuck my life up\nOnly I can mention me\nThey wish I would go ahead and fuck my life up\nCan't let them get to me\nAnd even though I always fuck my life up\nOnly I can mention me\nSee through the veil\nAnd forget all of your cares\nThrow them\nThrow them away\nDon't stop your loving\nDon't stop for nothing\nNo, not for nothing\nThey don't wanna see me love you\nDon't now, don't stop it\nThey always love it\nThey always wanna\nThey don't wanna see me love you\nSee through the veil\nThey don't wanna see me love you\nAnd forget all your cares\nThey don't wanna see me love you\nThrow them\nThrow them away\nOoh, life's a feeling and\nOoh, the body is a feeling, yeah"}
{"text":"Turn it up!\n\nStep up in this bitch like (Turn it up!)\nI'm the one your bitch like\nYeah, I'm the one your bitch like (Turn it up!)\nAnd I be talkin' shit like\nI ain't scared to lose a fistfight (Turn it up!)\nAnd she grabbin' on my, like\nShe wanna see if it'll fit right\nThat's just the wave (Turn it up!)\n\n(Yeah) Waves don't die\nLet me crash here for the moment, yeah\nI don't need to own it\nNo lie\nWaves don't die, baby\nLet me crash here for a moment (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBaby, I don't, I don't need to own you (Turn it up!)\nSun don't shine in the shade, ugh (Turn it up!)\nBird can't fly in a cage, ugh (Turn it up!)\nEven when somebody go away (Turn it up!)\nThe feelings don't really go away\nThat's just the wave\nYou might also like\n(Yeah) Waves don't die\nLet me crash here for the moment\nI don't need to own it\nNo lie\nWaves don't die, baby\nLet me crash here for a moment (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBaby, I don't, I don't need to own you\n\nNo lie\nNo lie\nNo lie\nYou set the night on fire\nI'm still gon' be here in the morning\nNo lie\n(Humming)\n\nNo lie (Yeah)\nOoh, babe, ooh, baby, oh, yeah\nYou set the night on fire\nI'm still gon' be here in the morning\nNo lie"}
{"text":"\nAll of the lights\nLights, lights\nAll of the lights\nTurn up the lights in here, baby\nExtra bright, I want y'all to see this\nTurn up the lights in here, baby\nYou know what I need, want you to see everything\nWant you to see all of the lights\nFast cars, shooting stars\nAll of the lights, all of the lights\nUntil it's Vegas everywhere we are (All of the lights)\nIf you want it, you can get it for the rest of your life\nIf you want it, you can get it for the rest of your life\n\nSomethin' wrong, I hold my head\nMJ gone, our nigga dead\nI slapped my girl, she called the feds\nI did that time and spent that bread\nI'm heading home, I'm almost there\nI'm on my way, heading up the stairs\nTo my surprise, a nigga replacing me\nI had to take him to that ghetto university\nYou might also like\n(All of the lights), lights\nCop lights, flashlights, spotlights\nStrobe lights, street lights (All of the lights, all of the lights)\nFast life, drug life, thug life\nRock life every night (All of the lights)\nTurn up the lights in here, baby\nExtra bright, I want y'all to see this\nTurn up the lights in here, baby\nYou know what I need, want you to see everything\nWant you to see all of the lights\n\nRestraining order, can't see my daughter\nHer mother, brother, grandmother hate me in that order\nPublic visitation, we met at Borders\nTold her she take me back, I'll be more supportive\nI made mistakes, I bumped my head\nThem courts sucked me dry, I spent that bread\nShe need her daddy, baby, please\nCan't let her grow up in that ghetto university\n\n(All of the lights), lights\nCop lights, flashlights, spotlights\nStrobe lights, street lights (All of the lights, all of the lights)\nFast life, drug life, thug life\nRock life every night (All of the lights)\nTurn up the lights in here, baby\nExtra bright, I want y'all to see this\nTurn up the lights in here, baby\nYou know what I need, want you to see everything\nWant you to see all of the lights\nGettin' mine, baby\nGotta let these niggas know, yeah\nGettin' right, babe\nYou should go and get your own\nGettin' mine, baby\nGotta let these niggas know, yeah\nGettin' right, babe\nYou should go and get your own\nUnemployment line, credit card declined\nDid I not mention I was about to lose my mind?\nAnd also was about to do that line\n'Kay, okay, you know we going all the way this time\nWe going all the way this time\nWe going all the way this time\nWe going all the way this time\nWe going all the way this time\nTurn up the lights in here, baby\nExtra bright, I want y'all to see this\nTurn up the lights in here, baby\nYou know what I need, want you to see everything\nWant you to see all of the lights\nWoah, woah\n(I tried to tell you, but all I could say was oh)\nWoah, woah\n(I tried to tell you, but all I could say was oh)\nWoah, woah\n(I tried to tell you, but all I could say was oh)\nWoah, woah\n(I tried to tell you, but all I could say)"}
{"text":"Hard to see, ooh\nThe hang ups we have today\nSaid we need to strive for more liberty\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nLift yourself up on your feet, let's get it on\nHard to see, ooh\nThe hang ups we have today\nSaid we need to strive for more liberty\nLift yourself up on your feet\nLift yourself up on your feet\nLift yourself up on your feet\nLift yourself up on your feet\nLift\nYou might also like\nLift your\u2014, lift your\u2014, lift yourself\nLift-lift your\u2014, lift your\u2014, lift your\u2014, lift your\u2014, lift-lift\n\nHard to see, ooh\nThe hang ups we have today-ay-ay\nBut they don't really realize, though\nSaid we need to strive for more liberty\nThis next verse, this next verse though\nLift yourself up on your feet\nThese bars\nLift yourself up on your feet\nWatch this, go\n\nPoopy-di scoop\nScoop-diddy-whoop\nWhoop-di-scoop-di-poop\nPoop-di-scoopty\nScoopty-whoop\nWhoopity-scoop, whoop-poop\nPoop-diddy, whoop-scoop\nPoop, poop\nScoop-diddy-whoop\nWhoop-diddy-scoop\nWhoop-diddy-scoop, poop"}
{"text":"All day, nigga\nDance, ayy, ayy ayy ayy\n\nAll day, nigga\nHow long you niggas ball? All day, nigga\nHow much time you spent at the mall? All day, nigga\nHow many runners do you got on call? All day, nigga\nSwish, swish, how long they keep you in court? All day, nigga\nTake you to get this fly? All day, nigga\nTell your P.O. how-how long you been high? All day, nigga\nYou already know I\u2019m straight from the Chi, all day, nigga\nSouth, south, south side! All day, nigga\n\nThis Ye, nigga\nShoppin' for the winter and it\u2019s just May, nigga\nBall so hard, man, this shit cray, nigga\nAnd you ain't gettin' money 'less you got eight figures\nFor that Jesus piece, man, I've been saved, nigga\nJust talked to Farrakhan, that's sensei, nigga\nTold him I've been on ten since the 10th grade, nigga\nGot a middle finger longer than Dikembe, my nigga, uh\nI don't let 'em play with me\nI don't let 'em talk to me no kind of way\nUh, they better watch what they say to me\nNiggas still gettin' popped on the day to day\nYeah, I still got the hundred with the small face, nigga\nMight spend 50 racks on my off day, nigga\nYou a fake Denzel like the Allstate nigga\nIf you run into me, better have Allstate with yah\nYou a Rico Suave nigga\nRide 'round listen to Sade, nigga\nIf you ain't with us, you in our way, nigga\nYou an actor, you should be on Broadway, nigga\n'Cause you do shit the broad way, nigga\nYour bitch got a ass, but my broad way thicker\nLate for the class, in the hallway, nigga\nYeah, the dropout at it as always nigga, as always\nAll day, nigga\nYou might also like\nI took a young sweet breath, and I reached into my Earth\nGave him what I had left\nAt that moment, I dispersed\nAt that moment, I dispersed\n\nAll day, nigga\nHow-h-how long you ball? All day, nigga\nHow much time you spent at the mall? All day, nigga\nHow long it take you to get this fly, fly? All day, nigga\nTell your P.O. how-how long you been high, high? All day, nigga\nPour some Hen out for my niggas that died, all day, nigga\nAnd I keep a bad bitch on the passenger side, all day, nigga\nYou already know I\u2019m straight from the Chi, all day, nigga\nSouth, south, south side! All day, nigga\n\nI could do this all day, boy, I'm finna turn this bitch out\nAny day Ye in the streets, boy, there's been a mothafuckin' drought\nDon't really matter what I make, boy, you know I still go wild\nLike a light-skinned slave, boy, we in the mothafuckin' house\nRight now, you lookin' real sus right now\nI swear I've been on this flight like a month right now\nStupid niggas gettin' money, Forrest Gump right now\nShout-out to Jackie Chan, I need to stunt right now\nThey've been lookin' at the Gram, I've been lookin' at the Grammys\nLike, huh, that's us right now (Right now)\n24\/7, 365 days, everybody gettin' paid (Go crazy)\nNiggas lookin' at me like I'm worth both MJs\nPeople saying, \"Ye, Ye, take it easy\"\n20 Gs for the Yeezys off of eBay\nNiggas do the most and they ain't done shit\nOnly way I can sum it up, sumbitch\n(Hands up, hands up, hands up)\nHands up, hands up, hands up\nSo won't you dance? Ayy, ayy ayy ayy\n(All day, nigga)\n\nI took a young sweet breath, and I reached into my Earth\nGave him what I had left\nAt that moment I dispersed\nAt that moment I dispersed\nGet low, alright\nGet low, alright\nWhat up? Alright, alright\nStay low, alright\nStay low, alright\nStay low, alright\nSouth, south, south side! All day, nigga\nWhistling\n\nWell, well, well, let me run (Let me run)\nLet me run to see who came undone\nYou've been right in my face\nLet me run 'til you're off my case\nWoah-woah, woah-woah\nWoah-woah, woah-woah\nWoah-woah, woah-woah\nWoah-woah, woah-woah\n1KEmbed"}
{"text":"\nWhose fault?\n\nLet's play the blame game, I love you more\nLet's play the blame game for sure\nLet's call out names, names, I hate you more\nLet's call out names, names for sure\n\nI'll call you bitch for short\nAs a last resort and my first resort\nYou call me motherfucker for long\nAt the end of it, you know we both were wrong\n\nBut I love to play the blame game, I love you more\nLet's play the blame game for sure\nLet's call out names, names, I hate you more\nLet's call out names, names for sure\n\nOn the bathroom wall I wrote\n\"I'd rather argue with you than to be with someone else\"\nI took a piss and dismiss it like \"fuck it\"\nAnd I went and found somebody else\nFuck arguing and harvesting the feelings\nYo, I'd rather be by my fuckin' self\n'Til about 2 a.m. and I call back\nAnd I hang up and I start to blame myself\nSomebody help\nYou might also like\nLet's play the blame game, I love you more\nLet's play the blame game for sure\nLet's call out names, names, I hate you more\nLet's call out names, names for sure\nYou weren't perfect, but you made life worth it\nStick around, some real feelings might surface\nBeen a long time since I spoke to you in a bathroom\nGrippin' you up, fuckin' and chokin' you\nWhat the hell was I supposed to do?\nI know you ain't gettin' this type of dick from that local dude\nAnd if you are, I hope you have a good time\n'Cause I definitely be havin' mine\nAnd you ain't finna see a mogul get emotional\nEvery time I hear about other niggas is strokin' you\nLie and say I hit you, he sittin' there consoling you\nRunnin' my name through the mud, who's provoking you?\nYou should be grateful a nigga like me ever noticed you\nNow you noticeable and can't nobody get control of you\n1 a.m. and can't nobody get a hold of you\nI'm callin' your brother's phone, like, what was I supposed to do?\nEven though I knew he never told the truth\nHe was just gon' say whatever that you told him to\nAt a certain point, I had to stop asking questions\nY'all got dirt on each other like mud wrestlers\nI heard he bought some coke with my money, that ain't right, girl\nYou gettin' blackmailed for that white girl\nYou always said, \"Yeezy, I ain't your right girl\nYou'll probably find one of them 'I like art'-type girls\"\n\"All of the lights,\" she was caught in the hype, girl\nAnd I was satisfied bein' in love with a lie\nNow who to blame? You to blame?\nMe to blame? For the pain\nAnd it poured every time when it rained\nLet's play the blame game, I love you more\nLet's play the blame game for sure\nThings used to be, now they not\nAnything but us is who we are\nDisguising ourselves as secret lovers\nWe've become public enemies\nWe walk away like strangers in the street\nGone for eternity\nWe erased one another\nSo far from where we came\nWith so much of everything\nHow do we leave with nothing?\nLack of visual empathy equates the meaning of L-O-V-E\nHatred and attitude tear us entirely\nChloe Mitchell\n\nLet's play the blame game, I love you more\nLet's play the blame game for sure\nLet's call out names, names, I hate you more\nLet's call out names, names, for sure\n\nI can't love you this much, I can't love you this much\nI can't love you this much, I can't love you this much\nI can't love you this much, no, I can't love you this much\nI can't love you this much, I can't love you this much\nAnd I know that you are somewhere doing your thing\nAnd when the phone called, it just ring and ring\nYou ain't pick up, but your phone accidentally called me back\nAnd I heard the whole thing\nI heard the whole thing, whole thing, whole thing, whole thing\nOh my God\nBaby, you done took this shit to another motherfuckin' level\nNow, a neighborhood nigga like me ain't supposed to be gettin' no pussy like this\nGoddamn, goddamn\nWho taught you how to get sexy for a nigga?\n(Yeezy taught me)\nYou never used to talk dirty, but now you goddamn disgusting\nMy, my God, where'd you learn that?\n(Yeezy taught me)\nLook at you, motherfuckin' butt-ass-naked\nWith them motherfuckin' Jimmy Choos on\nWho taught you how to put some motherfuckin' Jimmy Choos on?\n(Yeezy taught me)\nYo, you took your pussy game up a whole 'nother level\nThis is some Cirque du Soleil pussy now, shit\nYou done went all porno on a nigga, okay?\nAnd I-I-I-I, I love it, and I thank you\nI thank you, my dick thanks you\nHow'd you learn, how, how did your pussy game come up?\n(Yeezy taught me)\nI was fuckin' parts of your pussy I'd never fucked before\nI was in there like, \"Oh shit, I never been here before\nI've never even seen this part of Pussy Town before\"\nIt's like you got this shit reupholstered or some shit\nWhat the fuck happened?\nWho, who the fuck got your pussy all reupholstered?\n(Yeezy reupholstered my pussy)\nYou know what, I got to thank Yeezy\nAnd when I see that nigga, I'ma thank him\nI'ma buy the album, I'ma download that motherfucker\nI'ma shoot a bootlegger\nThat's how good I feel about this nigga\nAh\nI still can't believe you got me this watch\nThis motherfucker is the exact motherfucker I wanted\nWith the bezel? This is the motherfucker I wanted\nI saw this shit, I saw it, Twista had this shit on in The Source\nI 'member, Twista had this motherfucker on in The Source\nThat's right, that's right\nYo, yo, babe, yo, yo, this the best birthday ever\nWhere'd you learn to treat a nigga like this?\n(Yeezy taught me)\nYeezy taught you well\nYeezy taught you well"}
{"text":"Blazin', mi don't want dem\nMi need dem\nBlazin\nSuh mi tek har outta bugah red and put her in a tall skirt\nAnd now she find out what life is really worth\nNo to X rated\nYo mi tek har outta bugah red and put her in a tall skirt\nAnd now she find out what life is really worth\nNo to X rated\nI am a God\nI am a God\nI am a God\n\nI am a God\nHurry up with my damn massage\nHurry up with my damn m\u00e9nage\nGet the Porsche out the damn garage\nI am a God\nEven though I'm a man of God\nMy whole life in the hand of God\nSo y'all better quit playin' with God\nYou might also like\nSoon as they like you make 'em unlike you\n'Cause kissin' people ass is so unlike you\nThe only rapper compared to Michael\nSo here's a few hatin'-ass niggas to fight you\nAnd here's a few snake-ass niggas to bite you\nAnd I don't even wanna hear 'bout what niggas might do\nOld niggas mentally still in high school\nSince the tight jeans they ain't never liked you\nPink-ass polos with a fuckin' backpack\nBut everybody know you brought real rap back\nNobody had swag, man, we the Rat Pack\nVirgil, Pyrex, Don C snapback\nIbn diamond, Chi-town shinin'\nMonop' in this bitch again, changed the climate\nHop in this bitch to give Saint the garment\nUntil the day I get struck by lightning\n\nI am a God\nSo hurry up with my damn massage\nIn a French-ass restaurant\nHurry up with my damn croissants\nI am a God\nI am a God\nI am a God\nAhh!\nAhh!\n\nI just talked to Jesus\nHe said, \"What up, Yeezus?\"\nI said, \"Shit\u2014I'm chillin'\nTryna stack these millions\"\nI know he the most high\nBut I am a close high\nMi casa, su casa\nThat's our cosa nostra\nI am a God\nI am a God\nI am a God\n\nAhh!\nAhh!\nAhh!\nAhh!\n\nAin't no way I'm givin' up, I'm a God"}
{"text":"\nOne hand in the air if you don't really care\nTwo hands in the air if you don't really care\nIt's like that sometimes, I mean ridiculous\nIt's like that sometimes, this shit ridiculous\nOne hand in the air if you don't really care\nMiddle finger in the air if you don't really care\nIt's like that sometimes, man, ridiculous\nLife can be sometimes ridiculous\nI'm so appalled, Spalding, ball\nBalding Donald Trump taking dollars from y'all\nBaby, you're fired, your girlfriend hired\nBut if you don't mind, I'ma keep you on call\nWe above the law, we don't give a fuck 'bout y'all\nI got dogs that'll chew a fuckin' hole through the wall\nBut since they all lovers, I need more rubbers\nAnd if I don't use rubbers, need more covers\nHousekeeping, I mean, goddamn\nOne time, let it be a bad bitch sweeping\nThat know we get O's like Cheerios\nThat know because they seen us in the videos\nThat know the day that you play me\nWould be the same day MTV play videos\nThat was a little joke, voila\nPraises due to the most high, Allah\nPraises due to the most fly, Prada\nBaby, I'm magic, tada\nAddress me as your highness, high as United\nThirty thousand feet up and you are not invited\nNiggas be writing bullshit like they gotta work\nNiggas is going through real shit, man, they out of work\nThat's why another goddamn dance track gotta hurt\nThat's why I'd rather spit something that got a purp'\nYou might also like\nChampagne wishes, thirty white bitches\nI mean this shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nFuckin' ridiculous\nI mean this shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nFive-star dishes, different exotic fishes\nMan, this shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nFuckin' ridiculous\n\nHow should I begin this? I'm just so offended\nHow am I even mentioned by all these fuckin' beginners?\nI'm so appalled, I might buy the mall\nJust to show niggas how much more I have in store\nI'm fresher than you all, so I don't have to pause\nAll of y'all can suck my balls through my drawers\nDark Knight feeling, die and be a hero\nOr live long enough to see yourself become a villain\nI went from the favorite to the most hated\nBut would you rather be underpaid or overrated?\nMoral victories is for minor league coaches\nAnd Ye already told you we major, you cockroaches\nShow me where the boats is, Ferrari Testarossas\nAnd Hammer went broke so you know I'm more focused\nI lost thirty mil', so I spent another thirty\n'Cause unlike Hammer, thirty million can't hurt me\nFuckin' insane, the fuck am I saying?\nNot only am I fly, I'm fuckin' not playing\nAll these little bitches too big for they britches\nBurning they little bridges, fuckin' ridiculous\nChampagne wishes, thirty white bitches\nI mean this shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nFuckin' ridiculous\nI mean this shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nFive-star dishes, different exotic fishes\nMan, this shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nFuckin' ridiculous\nSuccess is what you make it, take it how it come\nA half a mil' in twenties like a billion where I'm from\nAn arrogant drug dealer, the legend I become\nCNN said I'd be dead by twenty-one\nBlackjack, I just pulled an ace\nAs you looking at the king in his face\nEverything I dream, motherfuckers, I'm watchin' it take shape\nWhile to you I'm just a young rich nigga that lacks faith\nRange Rove', leather roof, love war, fuck a truce\nStill move a bird like I'm in bed with Mother Goose\nThem hoes coming in a baker's dozen\nClaiming they was with me when they know they really wasn't\nI keep the city's best, never said she was the brightest\nSo if you had her too, it don't affect me in the slightest\nI never met a bitch that didn't need a little guidance\nSo I dismiss her past until she disappoints your highness\nI speak the gospel, hostile\nTony doing time for what he did to nostrils\nParanoid mind, I'm still under the watchful\nEye of the law, aspire for more\nThem kilos came, we gave you Bobby Brown jaw\nFlaws ain't flaws when it's you that makes the call\nFlow similar to the legends of the falls\nSpillin', I own you all, yuugh\nOne hand in the air if you don't really care\nTwo hands in the air if you don't really care\nIt's like that sometimes, I mean ridiculous\nIt's like that sometimes, this shit ridiculous\nOne hand in the air if you don't really care\nMiddle finger in the air if you don't really care\nIt's like that sometimes, man, ridiculous\nLife can be sometimes ridiculous\nHah, I am so outrageous\nI wear my pride on my sleeve like a bracelet\nIf God had an iPod, I'd be on his playlist\nMy phrases amazes the faces in places\nThe favorite, hah, my cup overrunneth with hundreds\nDummy, damn, it's hard not for me to waste it\nThe new Commandment, \"Thou shalt not hate, kid\"\nMy movement is like the Civil Rights, I'm Ralph David\nAbernathy, so call my lady Rosa Parks\nI am nothing like them niggas, baby, those are marks\nI met this girl on Valentine's Day, fucked her in May\nShe found out about April, so she chose to march\nHah, damn, another broken heart\nI keep bitches by the twos, nigga, Noah's Ark\nI got a seven on me, I call my 'dro Lamar\nPlus a Trojan in my pocket, Matt Leinart, hah\nG-A-T in the Pathfinder\n'Cause you haters got PhDs\nY'all just some major haters and some math minors\nTiger Woods, don't make me grab iron\n\nAyy, yo, champagne wishes and thirty white bitches\nYou know this shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nFuckin' ridiculous\nYou know this shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nCars for the missus and furs for the mistress\nYou know that shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nFuckin' ridiculous\nYou know this shit is fuckin' ridiculous\nFuckin' ridiculous\nFuckin' ridiculous\nFuckin' ridiculous\n\nOne hand in the air if you don't really care\nTwo hands in the air if you don't really care\nIt's like that sometimes, I mean ridiculous\nIt's like that sometimes, this shit ridiculous\nOne hand in the air if you don't really care\nMiddle finger in the air if you don't really care\nIt's like that sometimes, man, ridiculous\nLife can be sometimes ridiculous, huh?"}
{"text":"Damn, your lips very soft\nAs I turn my Blackberry off\nAnd I turn your bathwater on\nAnd you turn off your iPhone\nCareless whispers, eye fuckin', bitin' ass\nNeck, ears, hair, legs, eating ass\nYour pussy's too good, I need to crash\nYour titties, let 'em out, free at last\nThank God almighty, they free at last\nWe was up at the party but we was leavin' fast\nHad to stop at 7-Eleven like I needed gas\nI'm lyin', I needed condoms, don't look through the glass\nChasin' love, all the bittersweet hours lost\nEatin' Asian pussy, all I need was sweet and sour sauce\nTell your boss you need an extra hour off\nGet you super wet after we turn the shower off\n\nThat's all dem can do (Say wah? Say wah? Say wah? Say wah?)\nThat's all dem can do\nWe deal with action ting\nJust a badman ting a-dat man do\nAction ting, yo, a badman ting\nI'm a badman if you know say\nDisrespect we no tek, no way Jos\u00e9\nTry that 'pon February the 30th\nThat's right, couldn't try that no day\nWhen we roll 'round 'pon your block\nNuh badda feel seh we won't spray, like a aerosol can\nWhen we roll 'round 'pon your block\nNuh badda feel seh we won't spray, like an aerosol can\nWe a gon' smile 'pon court day\nBecuh we beat murder charge like O.J\nYou might also like\nThat's right, I'm in it\n(Should've known I would fall)\nI'm in it\n(Steppin' on cracks on the floor)\nThat right\n(And your boys at your door)\nThat's right, I'm in it\n(Well, you need to fight for your own)\nThat's right, I'm in it\n(Then don't let me at your table)\nI'm in it\n(If you just gonna lay there)\nDamn right\n(Fist jumps in the air, you love flame wars)\n(I'll be gone long, grab that ass, shed your clothes)\nUh, picked up where we left off\nUh, I need you home when I get off\nUh, you know I need that wet mouth\nUh, I know you need that reptile\nUh, she cut from a different textile\nUh, she love different kinds of sex now\nUh, black girl sippin' white wine\nPut my fist in her like a civil rights sign\nAnd grabbed it with a slight grind\nAnd held it 'til the right time\nThen she came like AAAAAHHH!\nThat's why I'm in it and I can't get out\nThat's all dem can do (Say wah? Say wah? Say wah? Say wah?)\nThat's why I'm in it and I can't get out\n(That's all dem can do)\nThat's all dem can do\nWe deal with action ting\nJust a badman ting a-dat man do\nThat's right I'm in it\nI'll be gone long, grab that ass, shed your clothes\nSay you long for me, for you\nLay it off with all your rules\nStar fucker\nStar fucker\nStar fucker\nWho, where?\n\nTime to take it too far now\nUh, Michael Douglas out the car now\nUh, got the kids-and-the-wife life\nUh, but can't wake up from the nightlife\nUh, I'm so scared of my demons\nUh, I go to sleep with a nightlight\nUh, my mind move like a Tron bike\nUh, pop a wheelie on the Zeitgeist\nUh, I'm finna start a new movement\nUh, being led by the drums\nUh, I'm a rap-lic priest\nUh, gettin' head by the nuns\nUh, they don't play what I'm playin'\nUh, they don't see what I'm sayin'\nUh, they be ballin' in the D-League\nUh, I be speakin' Swaghili"}
{"text":"Dirt and grime and filth inside\nThe story of my lifetime\nOf cheating, stealing, never feeling\nPain of a brother, your dirty mother\nHa, ha, ha, look how far we are\nG-G-G-Good work, Charlie\n(Perfect!)\n\nYeezy, Yeezy, Yeezy just jumped over Jumpman\nYeezy, Yeezy, Yeezy just jumped over Jumpman\n(You!)\n\nYeezy, Yeezy, Yeezy, I feel so accomplished\nI done talked a lot of shit but I just did the numbers\nHerzog and Adidas, man, you know they love it\nIf Nike ain't have Drizzy, man, they would have nothin', woo!\nIf Nike ain't have Don C, man, they would have nothin', ooh!\nBut I'm all for the family, tell 'em, \"Get your money\"\nYeezy, Yeezy, Yeezy, they line up for days\nNike out here bad, they can't give shit away\nI stuck to my roots, I'm like Jimmy Fallon\nI ain't dropped the album but the shoes went platinum (Woo!)\nEvery time I talk, they say I'm too aggressive\nI was out here spazzin', now y'all get the message?!\nOn the field I'm over-reckless, on my Odell Beckham\n2020, I'ma run the whole election, yah!\nI've been trending years, y'all a couple days\nYeezy in the house and we just got appraised\nNike, Nike treat employees just like slaves\nGave LeBron a billi' not to run away (You!)\nTen-thousand dollar fur for Nori, I just copped it (You!)\nYour baby daddy won't even take your daughter shoppin' (You!)\nI done wore designers I won't wear again\nMake 'em niggas famous, they get arrogant\nYou might also like\nYeezy, Yeezy, Yeezy just jumped over Jumpman, ah!\nYeezy, Yeezy, Yeezy just jumped over Jumpman\n(Sonic boom!)\n\nYeezy, Yeezy, Yeezy, this is pure luxury\nI give 'em Grey Poupon on a DJ Mustard, ah!\nIf you ain't poppin' shit then why you rap for, huh?\nPlus Kimoji just shut down the app store, ah!\nAnd we made a million a minute, we made a million a minute\n(We did)\nYeah, we made a million a minute, we made a million a minute, ah!\nDo anybody feel bad for Bill Cosby?\nDid he forget the names just like Steve Harvey? (You!)\nTell Adidas that we need a million in production (You!)\nI done told y'all, all I needed was the infrastructure (Boom!)\nNow we hottest in the streets, it ain't no discussion\nJames Harden, Swaggy P runnin' up the budget (Yoga flame!)\nKeep the work at my baby mama's mama's house\nI'm a jerk, you need to work, you need to call my spouse\nYeezy, Yeezy, take a picture with me on Rodeo\nYeezy, Yeezy, Yeezy, I might do my own hotel\nCouches, couches, couches, couches, which one should I pick?\nI need extra deep, I like my bitches extra thick (Sonic boom!)\nEvery time I see the news, man it bring me home\nCall up DJ Mano, shout out Twilite Tone\nWe just blessed to be alive, yeah, ain't that the truth?\nSo let's celebrate the life of Timbuck2\nTimbuck2, Timbuck2\nHa, ha, ha, look how far we are, are, are, are, are, are, are\n(Perfect!)"}
{"text":"Oh, when it all, it all falls down\nYeah, this the real one, baby\nI'm tellin' you all, it all falls down\nUh, Chi-Town, stand up!\nOh, when it all, it all falls down\nSouthside, Southside\nWe gon' set this party off right\nI'm tellin' you all, it all falls down\nWestside, Westside\nWe gon' set this party off right\nOh, when it all\n\nMan, I promise, she's so self-conscious\nShe has no idea what she doin' in college\nThat major that she majored in don't make no money\nBut she won't drop out, her parents'll look at her funny\nNow, tell me that ain't insecurr\nThe concept of school seems so securr\nSophomore, three yurrs, ain't picked a carurr\nShe like, \"Fuck it, I'll just stay down hurr and do hair\"\n'Cause that's enough money to buy her a few pairs\nOf new Airs, 'cause her baby daddy don't really care\nShe's so precious with the peer pressure\nCouldn't afford a car, so she named her daughter Alexis\nShe had hair so long that it looked like weave\nThen she cut it all off, now she look like Eve\nAnd she be dealin' with some issues that you can't believe\nSingle black female addicted to retail, and well\nYou might also like\nOh, when it all, it all falls down\nAnd when it falls down, who you gon' call now?\nI'm tellin' you all, it all falls down\nC'mon, c'mon, and when it falls down\nOh, when it all\n\nMan, I promise, I'm so self-conscious\nThat's why you always see me with at least one of my watches\nRollies and Pashas done drove me crazy\nI can't even pronounce nothing, pass that Ver-say-see!\nThen I spent four hundred bucks on this\nJust to be like, \"Nigga, you ain't up on this\"\nAnd I can't even go to the grocery store\nWithout some Ones that's clean and a shirt with a team\nIt seem we livin' the American Dream\nBut the people highest up got the lowest self-esteem\nThe prettiest people do the ugliest things\nFor the road to riches and diamond rings\nWe shine because they hate us, floss 'cause they degrade us\nWe tryna buy back our 40 acres\nAnd for that paper, look how low we'll stoop\nEven if you in a Benz, you still a nigga in a coupe\nOh, when it all, it all falls down\nCome on, come on\nI'm tellin' you all, it all falls down\nAnd when it falls down, who you gon' call now?\nOh, when it all, it all falls down\nCome on, come on\nI'm tellin' you all, it all falls down\nAnd when it all falls down\nI say, \"Fuck the police,\" that's how I treat 'em\nWe buy our way out of jail, but we can't buy freedom\nWe'll buy a lot of clothes, but we don't really need 'em\nThings we buy to cover up what's inside\n'Cause they made us hate ourself and love they wealth\nThat's why shorty's hollerin', \"Where the ballers at?\"\nDrug dealer buy Jordan, crackhead buy crack\nAnd the white man get paid off of all of that\nBut I ain't even gon' act holier than thou\n'Cause fuck it, I went to Jacob with 25 thou\nBefore I had a house and I'd do it again\n\u2018Cause I wanna be on 106 & Park, pushin' a Benz\nI want to act ballerific like it's all terrific\nI got a couple past-due bills, I won't get specific\nI got a problem with spendin' before I get it\nWe all self-conscious, I'm just the first to admit it\nOh, when it all, it all falls down\nC'mon, c'mon\nAnd when it falls down, who you gon' call now?\nI'm tellin' you all, it all falls down\nC'mon c'mon, and when it falls down\nOh, when it all, it all falls down\nSouthside, Southside\nWe gon' set this party off right\nI'm tellin' you all, it all falls down\nWestside, Westside\nWe gon' set this party off right\nOh when it all, it all falls down\nChi-Town, Chi-Town\nWe gon' show 'em how we get down\nI'm tellin' you all, it all falls down\nNow, Syleena, you just like a safe belt, you saved my life\nC'mon\nOh when it all, it all falls down\nI'm tellin' you all, it all falls down"}
{"text":"\nWork it, make it, do it, makes us\nHarder, better, faster, stronger\nN-Now-Now that, that don't kill me\nCan only make me stronger\nI need you to hurry up now\n'Cause I can't wait much longer\nI know I got to be right now\n'Cause I can't get much wronger\nMan, I've been waitin' all night now\nThat's how long I been on ya\nWork it harder, make it better\nDo it faster, makes us stronger\n(I need you right now, right now)\nMore than ever, hour after hour\nWork\u2014\n(I need you right now, right now)\n\nLet's get lost tonight\nYou could be my black Kate Moss tonight\nPlay secretary, I'm the boss tonight\nAnd you don't give a fuck what they all say, right?\nAwesome, the Christian in Christian Dior\nDamn, they don't make 'em like this anymore\nI ask, 'cause I'm not sure\nDo anybody make real shit anymore?\nBow in the presence of greatness\n'Cause right now, thou hast forsaken us\nYou should be honored by my lateness\nThat I would even show up to this fake shit\nSo go ahead, go nuts, go apeshit\n'Specially in my Pastell\u00e9, on my Bape shit\nAct like you can't tell who made this\nNew Gospel, homie, take six\nAnd take this, haters\nYou might also like\nN-Now-Now that, that don't kill me\nCan only make me stronger\nI need you to hurry up now\n'Cause I can't wait much longer\nI know I got to be right now\n'Cause I can't get much wronger\nMan, I've been waitin' all night now\nThat's how long I been on ya\nWork it harder, make it better\nDo it faster, makes us stronger\n(I need you right now, now)\nMore than ever, hour after hour\nWork\u2014\n(I need you right now, right now)\nMe likey\n\nI don't know if you got a man or not\nIf you made plans or not\nIf God put me in your plans or not\nI'm trippin', this drink got me sayin' a lot\nBut I know that God put you in front of me\nSo how the hell could you front on me?\nThere's a thousand you's, there's only one of me\nI'm trippin', I'm caught up in the moment, right?\n'Cause it's Louis Vuitton Don night\nSo we gon' do everything that Kan' like\nHeard they'd do anything for a Klondike\nWell, I'd do anything for a blonde dyke\nAnd she'll do anything for the limelight\nAnd we'll do anything when the time's right\nUh, baby, you're makin' it\nHarder, better, faster, stronger (Oh)\nN-Now th-that, that don't kill me (Oh)\nCan only make me stronger (Oh)\nI need you to hurry up now (Oh)\n'Cause I can't wait much longer (Oh)\nI know I got to be right now (Oh)\n'Cause I can't get much wronger (Oh)\nMan, I've been waitin' all night now\nThat's how long I been on ya\nWork it harder, make it better\nDo it faster, makes us stronger\n(I need you right now, now)\nMore than ever, hour after hour\nWork is never over\n(I need you right now, right now)\n\nYou know how long I've been on ya\nSince Prince was on Apollonia\nSince O.J. had Isotoners\nDon't act like I never told ya\nWork it, work is never over\nDon't act like I never told ya\nHarder, work is never over\nUh, don't act like I never told ya\nDon't act like I never told ya\nDon't act like I never told ya\nUh, baby, you're makin' it\nHarder, better, faster, stronger\nN-Now-Now that, that don't kill me\nCan only make me stronger\nI need you to hurry up now\n'Cause I can't wait much longer\nI know I got to be right now\n'Cause I can't get much wronger\nMan, I've been waitin' all night now\nThat's how long I been on ya\nWork it harder, make it better\nDo it faster, makes us stronger\n(I need you right now, now)\nMore than ever, hour after hour\nWork is never over\n(I need you right now, right now)\nWork it harder, make it better\nDo it faster, makes us stronger\n(I need you right now, now)\nMore than ever, hour after hour\nWork is never over\n(I need you right now, right now)\n\nYou know how long I've been on ya\nSince Prince was on Apollonia\nSince O.J. had Isotoners\nDon't act like I never told ya\nYou know how long I've been on ya\nSince Prince was on Apollonia\nSince O.J. had Isotoners\nDon't act like I never told ya\n\nTold ya, told ya\nNever told ya, told ya, told ya\nNever told ya, told ya, told ya\nNever told ya, told ya, told ya\nNever told ya\nNever over (W\u2014), never over (Ha\u2014), never over (Fa\u2014), never over (St\u2014)\nNever over, never over, never over\nHarder, better, faster, stronger\nWork it harder, make it better\nDo it faster, makes us stronger\nMore than ever, hour after hour\nWork is never over\nWork it harder, make it better\nDo it faster, makes us stronger\nMore than ever, hour after hour\nWork is never over\nWork it harder, make it better\nDo it faster, makes us stronger\nMore than ever, hour after hour\nWork is never over\nWork it harder, make it better\nDo it faster, makes us stronger\nMore than ever, hour after hour\nWork is never over"}
{"text":"That she wrote, \"Speech to the Young: Speech to the Progress-Toward\"\nSay to them, say to\u2005the\u2005down-keepers, the sun-slappers\nThe\u2005self-soilers, the harmony-hushers\nEven if you are\u2005not ready for the day, it cannot always be night\nServe, flex, I do work (Work)\nSix, I'm like Mike\nHe's out of sight, woo\nYou done got me piped\nTwo-man like Ike\nSix out the spot (Uh, uh)\nInto the night\n\nYeah, I'm shakin' the drop (Drop)\nI'm still up on top (Aight)\nI been had the bop\nThe devil my opp, can't pay me to stop (It's lit)\nMy God at the top (La Flame)\n\nWe gon' praise our way out the grave, dawg\nLivin', speakin', praise God\nWalkin' out the graveyard back to life\nI serve, follow your word, see with new sight, into the night (Hey)\nYou might also like\nYeah, this life I'm livin' (I'm livin')\nAll the advice been tipped in (That thang)\nGave me that grip, no slippin' (That grip)\nOut of my mind, went trippin' (My mind)\nTell me take two when I'm on one (I'm on)\nThat lookout like no one\nKept it real tight like your son (Your son)\nYeah (La Flame)\n\nWe gon' praise our way out the grave, dawg\nLivin', speakin', praise God\nWalkin' out the graveyard back to life\nI serve, follow your word, see with new sight, into the night\nStill on side, huh, still outside\n****, attention, still outside, huh, still outside\nTame Imp\u2014, Tame Impala, ****\nTame Impala, stay outside, huh\nAnd I'm still outside, I'm still outside, still outside, huh\nLet's get right, huh, let's get right, uh, let's get right, uh, huh\nLet's get right, let's get (Ayy, ayy, ayy), let's get right\nLet's get (Ayy, ayy, ayy), let's get\u2014\nLook at new scenes, I opened my life, I'm subject to memes\nI signed a few ****, I polished their dreams\nAn angel on earth, come under my wing\nStop runnin' your publishers, ****\nThey publish the headlines and say the wrong things\nY'all treat your Lord and Savior like renters' insurance, you know what I mean?\nBada the bada the boom, I bada the boom, I bada the bing\nI need a new girl, my old one was mean\nI had to let go, forgave all them evils that came to my shows\nI channeled them bad **** all in abode\nI channeled your trust, I channeled the turbulence, came with the life\nI gathered my sinners and asked if I'm right, let's get\nI just get right, ****, huh\nLet's get right, let's get right, let's get right, shh, shh\nAin't on sight, it's on sight\nI don't know you, you, you, you, it's on sight\nI don't know you, you, you, you (Ayy, ayy), let's get right\nAyy, all of my **** on Channel 5\nI don't channel ten 'til it go time\nUsed to throw up my uncle's spaghetti\nBeen told to tote since before I was ready\nBack when my mama told me that I was challenged\nA single Black woman, you know that she petty\nI turned a heavy heart to two million dollars\nI put that in totals, reverse outta debty\nI gotta, I gotta put on a rager one time\nI swung the powder, went major one time\nI know some white people servin' no time\nI gotta do it for me, do it for, pray for me\nDo it for all the ones dyin'\nI wanna do it for all the ones cryin'\nI wanna, uh, uh, uh, let's get right, huh"}
{"text":"Fallin', dreamin', talkin' in your sleep\nI know you want to cry all night, all night\nPlottin', schemin', findin'\nReason to defend all of your violent nights\nPromise me you will see\n\nDon't you grow up in a hurry, your mom'll be worried, aw\nIt was all part of the story, even the scary nights\nThank you for all of the glory, you will be remembered, aw\nThank you to all of the heroes of the night (Night, night)\nThey gotta repaint the colors, the lie is wearin' off\nReality is upon us, colors drippin' off\nColors drippin' off\n\nNiggas is savage, niggas is monsters\nNiggas is pimps, niggas is players\n'Til niggas have daughters, now they precautious\nFather, forgive me, I'm scared of the karma\n'Cause now I see women as somethin' to nurture\nNot somethin' to conquer\nI hope she like Nicki, I make her a monster\nNot havin' m\u00e9nages, I'm just bein' silly\nI answered the door like Will Smith and Martin\nNigga, do we have a problem?\nMatter fact, Marlon, this ain't Meet the Fockers\nI'll beat his ass, pray I beat the charges\nNo, Daddy don't play, not when it come to they daughters\nDon't do no yoga, don't do pilates\nJust play piano and stick to karate\nI pray your body's draped more like mine\nAnd not like your mommy's\nJust bein' salty, but niggas is nuts\nAnd I am a nigga, I know what they want\nI pray that you don't get it all at once\nCurves under your dress, I know it's pervs all on the net\nAll in the comments, you wanna vomit\nThat's your baby, you love her to death\nNow she cuttin' class and hangin' with friends\nYou break a glass and say it again\nShe can't comprehend the danger she in\nIf you whoop her ass, she move in with him\nThen he whoop her ass, you go through it again\nBut how you the devil rebukin' the sin?\nLet's pray we can put this behind us\nI swear that these times is the wildest\nShe got the scars, they serve as reminders\nBlood still on her pajamas\nBut yesterday is dead, yeah, moment of silence\nNext, she'll be off to college and then at the altar\n'Cause she know that niggas is savage, niggas is monsters\nNiggas is pimps, niggas is players, 'til niggas have daughters\nNiggas is pimps, niggas is players, 'til niggas have daughters\nYou might also like\nDon't you grow up in a hurry, your mom'll be worried, aw\nIt was all part of the story, even the scary nights\nThank you for all of the glory, you will be remembered, aw\nThank you to all of the heroes of the night (Night, night)\nThey gotta repaint the colors, the lie is wearin' off\nReality is upon us, colors drippin' off\nColors drippin' off\n\nI'm saying it like...\n\"I want a daughter like Nicki, aw, man, I promise\nI'ma turn her to a monster, but no m\u00e9nages\"\nI don't know how you saying it but, let 'em hear this"}
{"text":"Last October Grammy-nominated producer KANYE WEST was in a nearly fatal car accident. His jaw was fractured in nearly three places. Two weeks later he recorded this song with his mouth still wired shut... so the world could feel his pain!\n\nYo, G, they can't stop me from rappin', can they?\nCan they, Hop?\n\nThrough the fire, to the limit, to the wall\nFor a chance to be with you, I'd gladly risk it all\nThrough the fire, through whatever, come what may\nFor a chance at loving you, I'd take it all the way\nRight down to the wire, even through the fire\n\nI spit it through the wire, man\nThere's too much stuff on my heart right now, man\nI'd gladly risk it all right now\nIt's a life-or-death situation, man\nY'all, y'all don't really understand how I feel right now, man\nIt's your boy, Kanye to the\u2026\nChi-Town, what's goin' on?\nUh-huh, yeah, yeah\nYou might also like\nI drink a Boost for breakfast, an Ensure for dessert\nSomebody ordered pancakes, I just sip the sizzurp\nThat right there could drive a sane man berserk\nNot to worry, Mr. H-to-the-Izzo's back to wizzerk\nHow do you console my mom or give her light support\nTellin' her her son's on life support?\nAnd just imagine how my girl feel\nOn the plane scared as hell that her guy look like Emmett Till\nShe was with me before the deal, she'd been tryna be mine\nShe a Delta, so she'd been throwin' that Dynasty sign\nNo use in me tryna be lyin', I been tryna be signed\nTryin' to be a millionaire, how I used two lifelines\nIn the same hospital where Biggie Smalls died\nThe doctor said I had blood clots, but I ain't Jamaican, man\nStory on MTV and I ain't tryna make a band\nI swear, this, right here, history in the makin', man\n\nThrough the fire, to the limit, to the wall\nFor a chance to be with you, I'd gladly risk it all\nThrough the fire, through whatever, come what may\nFor a chance at loving you, I'd take it all the way\nRight down to the wire, even through the fire\n\nI really apologize for everything right now\nIf it's unclear at all, man\nThey got my mouth wired shut\nFor like\u2026 I dunno, the doctor said like six weeks\nY'know, he had, I had reconstructive surgery on my jaw\nI looked in the mirror\nAnd half my jaw was in the back of my mouth, man\nI couldn't believe it\nBut I'm still here for y'all right now, man\nThis what I got to say right here, dawg\nYeah, turn me up, yeah, uh\nWhat if somebody from the Chi' that was ill got a deal\nOn the hottest rap label around?\nBut he wasn't talkin' 'bout coke and birds\nIt was more like spoken word, 'cept he's really puttin' it down?\nAnd he explained the story 'bout how Blacks came from glory\nAnd what we need to do in the game\nGood dude, bad night, right place, wrong time\nIn the blink of a eye, his whole life changed\nIf you could feel how my face felt\nYou would know how Mase felt (Mason Betha!)\nThank God I ain't too cool for the safe belt\nI swear to God, driver two wanna sue\nI got a lawyer for the case, to keep what's in my safe safe\nMy dawgs couldn't tell if I\u2026\nI looked like Tom Cruise in Vanilla Sky, it was televised\nThere's been an accident like GEICO\nThey thought I was burnt up like Pepsi did Michael\nI must got a angel, \u2018cause look how death missed his ass\nUnbreakable, what, you thought they'd call me Mr. Glass?\nLook back on my life like the Ghost of Christmas Past\nToys \"R\" Us where I used to spend that Christmas cash\nAnd I still won't grow up, I'm a grown-ass kid\nSwear I should be locked up for stupid **** that I did\nBut I'm a champion, so I turned tragedy to triumph\nMake music that's fire, spit my soul through the wire\nThrough the fire, to the limit, to the wall\nFor a chance to be with you, I'd gladly risk it all\nThrough the fire, through whatever, come what may\nFor a chance at loving you, I'd take it all the way\nRight down to the wire, even through the fire\n\nY'know what I'm sayin'?\nWhen the doctor told me I had, um\nThat I was gonna have to have a plate in my chin\nI said, \"Dawg, don't you realize I'll never make it on a plane now?\"\n\"It's bad enough I got all this jewelry on!\"\nYou can't be serious, man"}
{"text":"I know, I know, I know, I know, know\nI know, I know, I know, I know, know\nI, I know it, I know it\n\nThe most beautiful thoughts are always besides the darkest\nToday, I seriously thought about killing you\nI contemplated, premeditated murder\nAnd I think about killing myself\nAnd I love myself way more than I love you, so\u2026\nToday, I thought about killing you, premeditated murder\nYou'd only care enough to kill somebody you love\nThe most beautiful thoughts are always besides the darkest\n(Mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhmm)\nJust say it out loud to see how it feels\nPeople say \"don't say this, don't say that\"\nJust say it out loud, just to see how it feels\nWeigh all the options, nothing's off the table\nToday, I thought about killing you, premeditated murder\nI think about killing myself\nAnd I, I love myself way more than I love you\nThe most beautiful thoughts are always besides the darkest\n(Mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhm\u2014mhmm)\nI think this is the part where I'm supposed to say somethin' good to compensate it so it doesn't come off bad\nBut sometimes I think really bad things\nReally, really, really bad things\nAnd I love myself way more than I love you\nSee, if I was tryin' to relate it to more people\nI'd probably say I'm struggling with loving myself\nBecause that seems like a common theme\nBut that's not the case here\nI love myself way more than I love you\nAnd I think about killing myself\nSo, best believe, I thought about killing you today\nPremeditated murder\nYou might also like\nI called up my loved ones, I called up my cousins\nI called up the Muslims, said I'm 'bout to go dumb\nGet so bright, it's no sun, get so loud, I hear none\nScreamed so loud, got no lungs, hurt so bad, I go numb\nTime to bring in the drums, that prra-pa-pa-pum\nSet the NewTone on 'em, set the nuke off on 'em\nI need Coke with no rum, I taste coke on her tongue\nI don't joke with no one, they'll say \"He died so young\"\nI done had a bad case of too many bad days\nGot too many bad traits, used the floor for ashtrays\nI don't do shit halfway, I'ma clear the cache\nI'ma make my name last, put that on my last name\nIt's a different type of rules that we obey\nYe, Ye, Ye season, nigga, we Old Bay\nWe was all born to die, nigga, DOA\nNiggas say they hero, mm, I don't see no cape\nMm, I don't see no, mm, yeah, I don't see no, mm, mm\nIf I wasn't shinin' so hard, wouldn't be no shade\nBuckwheat-ass nigga, it's gon' be o-tay\nSorry, but I chose not to be no slave\nYoung nigga shit, nigga, we don't age\nI thought I was past my Deebo ways\nEven when I went broke, I ain't break\nHow you gon' hate? Nigga, we go way back\nTo when I had the braids and you had the wave cap\nDrop a pin for the fade and I'm on my way ASAP\nDon't get socked in the mouth, you know homie don't play that\nPay the fire marshal bill 'cause this shit done got way packed\nThey wanna see me go ape (Ape, ape)\nAll you gotta do is speak on Ye\nAll you gotta do is speak on Ye\nDon't get your tooth chipped like Frito-Lay"}
{"text":"\nAs I lay me down to sleep\nI hear her speak to me\nHello 'Mari, how ya doin'?\nI think the storm ran out of rain, the clouds are movin'\nI know you're happy, \u2018cause I can see it\nSo tell the voice inside ya head to believe it\nI talked to God about you, he said he sent you an angel\nAnd look at all that he gave you\nYou asked for one and you got two\nYou know I never left you\n\u2018Cause every road that leads to Heaven's right inside you\nSo I can say\n\nHello, my only one, just like the mornin' sun\nYou'll keep on risin' 'til the sky knows your name\nHello my only one, remember who you are\nNo you're not perfect but you're not your mistakes\n\nHey, hey, hey, hey\nOh, the good outweighs the bad even on your worst day\nRemember how I'd say\nHey hey one day, you'll be the man you always knew you could be\nAnd if you knew how proud I was\nYou'd never shed a tear, have a fear, no you wouldn't do that\nAnd though I didn't pick the day to turn the page\nI know it's not the end every time I see her face, and I hear you say\nYou might also like\nHello my only one, remember who you are\nYou got the world \u2018cause you got love in your hands\nAnd you're still my chosen one\nSo can you understand? One day you'll understand\n\nSo hear me out, hear me out\nI won't go, I won't go\nNo goodbyes, no goodbyes\nJust hello, just hello\nAnd when you cry, I will cry\nAnd when you smile, I will smile\nAnd next time when I look in your eyes\nWe'll have wings and we'll fly\n\nHello my only one, just like the mornin' sun\nYou'll keep on risin' 'til the sky knows your name\nAnd you're still my chosen one, remember who you are\nNo you're not perfect but you're not your mistakes\n\nHey, hey, hey, hey\nTell Nori about me, tell Nori ab-\nI just want you to do me a favor\nTell Nori about me, tell Nori about me\nTell Nori about me, tell Nori about me\nTell Nori about me, tell Nori about me\nTell Nori about me, tell Nori about me\nTell Nori about me...1KEmbed"}
{"text":"Baby lion goes\nWhere the islands go\n\nYou say you never saw this comin', well, you're not alone\nMillion dollar renovations to a happy home\nMy ex says she gave me the best years of her life\nI saw a recent picture of her, I guess she was right\nI wake up, assessin' the damages\nCheckin' MediaTakeOut\nPictures of me drunk walkin' out with a bitch\nBut it's blurry enough to get the fake out\nI wake up, all veggies no eggs\nI hit the gym, all chest no legs\nYep, then I made myself a smoothie\nYeah, then me and wifey make a movie\nChicago, St. Louis, St. Louis to Chicago\n\u00c1ndale, \u00e1ndale E.I, E.I, uh-oh\nYou had me drivin' far enough to switch the time zone\nYou was the best of all time at the time, though\nYeah, you wasn't mine, though\n\nBut I still drove thirty hours\nAnd I, I still drove thirty hours to you, yeah\nYou might also like\nI remember rappin' for Jay and Cam\nYoung producer just trying to get his flows off\nI remember being nervous to do Victoria's Secret\n'Til I pictured everybody with they clothes off\nExpedition was Eddie Bauer edition\nI'm drivin' with no winter tires in December\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, like a private school for women\nThen I get there and all the Popeye's is finished, girl\nYou don't love me, you just pretendin'\nI need a happy beginnin', middle and endin'\nChicago, St. Louis, St. Louis to Chicago\nIt's gettin' hot in here, that's all that I know\nGot a hotel room, three stars for you\nYou call down for an omelet, girl, it's 5 in the morning\nYou realize we at the DoubleTree, not the Aria\nOnly thing open is Waffle House, girl, don't start with me\nI used the Western Union for you like it's no prob'\n'Cause you was in college complainin' 'bout it's no jobs\nBut you were suckin' a nigga dick the whole time\nWell, I guess a blowjob's better than no job\n\nAnd I drove back thirty hours, uh\n\nWhere the main ties onto the sail\nBetter on sighting\nFor astern, oh\n3 Stacks, can you help me out?\nThirty hours\nYeah, this type of shit you just ride out to\nThirty hours\nThirty hours\nI just be like, it was my idea to have an open relationship\nNow a nigga mad\nNow I'm 'bout to drive ninety miles like Matt Barnes to kill\nThirty hours\nJust to kill\nJust to\nJust to\nI'm about to drive ninety\nNinety miles like Matt Barnes just to whoop a nigga ass\nIt was my idea and now a nigga (Thirty hours)\nNow a nigga mad, now a nigga, uh\nA stunna\nWhoop him after school just to show I got class\nDuh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh-duh\nDuh-duh with you, yeah (Thirty hours)\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Drop some shit like that\nAyy, ayy, ayy-ayy, ayy, uh\nWhoop him after school just to\nThirty hours\nWhoop him after school just to show I got class\nUh, igh, uh, uh, 3 Stacks\nThirty hours\nJust ride out to that, uh\nCheck it out: this the bonus track, this the bonus\nThirty hours\nMy favorite albums used to have like bonus joints like this\nThat's why they kick it off like this\nYeah, just did that Madison Square Garden\nThirty hours\nHad to put the flyest nigga on this shit, ayy, ayy\nThe pyramids shall rise\nThirty hours\nLook at these ultralight beams flowin'\nFor all the moms, the dads, the kids, the families that shared this moment with us\nLet's rock out for 'bout\nThirty hours\nYou know, ayy, you know\nAyy, you know, ayy, you know\nThirty hours\nWhole design team, Yeezy team, music team, ayy\nRemember when the whole block'd get shout out?\nThis my version of a shout-out track\nThirty hours\nLet that mothafucka rock, let that, let that, yeah\nTo my brother Yasiin, holding it down in Africa\nThirty hours\nTo my family: thank you for holding me down\nThe media be acting like\nThirty hours\nThat's Gabe calling\nYo, Gabe\nI'm just doing a\u2014 I'm just doing an adlib track right now\nWhat's up?\nThirty hours\nThirty hours\n"}
{"text":"In the night, I hear 'em talk\nThe coldest story ever told\nSomewhere far along this road\nHe lost his soul to a woman so heartless\nHow could you be so heartless?\nOh, how could you be so heartless?\n\nHow could you be so\nCold as the winter wind when it breeze, yo?\nJust remember that you talkin' to me though\nYou need to watch the way you talkin' to me, yo\nI mean, after all the things that we been through\nI mean, after all the things we got into\nAyo, I know of some things that you ain't told me\nAyo, I did some things but that's the old me\nAnd now you wanna get me back and you gon' show me\nSo you walk around like you don't know me\nYou got a new friend, well, I got homies\nBut in the end, it's still so lonely\n\nIn the night, I hear 'em talk\nThe coldest story ever told\nSomewhere far along this road\nHe lost his soul to a woman so heartless\nHow could you be so heartless?\nOh, how could you be so heartless?\nYou might also like\nHow could you be so Dr. Evil?\nYou're bringin' out a side of me that I don't know\nI decided we wasn't gon' speak so\nWhy we up 3 AM on the phone?\nWhy do she be so mad at me fo'?\nHomie, I don't know, she's hot and cold\nI won't stop, won't mess my groove up\n\u2018Cause I already know how this thing go\nYou run and tell your friends that you're leavin' me\nThey say that they don't see what you see in me\nYou wait a couple of months, then you gon' see\nYou'll never find nobody better than me\n\nIn the night, I hear 'em talk (Me)\nThe coldest story ever told\nSomewhere far along this road\nHe lost his soul to a woman so heartless\nHow could you be so heartless?\nOh, how could you be so heartless?\n\nTalk and talk and talk and talk\nBaby, let's just knock it off\nThey don't know what we been through\nThey don't know 'bout me and you\nSo I got somethin' new to see\nAnd you just gon' keep hatin' me\nAnd we just gon' be enemies\nI know you can't believe\nI could just leave it wrong\nAnd you can't make it right\nI'm gon' take off tonight into the night\nIn the night, I hear 'em talk\nThe coldest story ever told\nSomewhere far along this road\nHe lost his soul to a woman so heartless\nHow could you be so heartless? (How, how?)\nOh, how could you be so heartless?\n\nOn and on and on and on\nAnd on and, and on and on and on"}
{"text":"Shit could get menacin', frightenin', find help\nSometimes I scare myself, myself\nShit could get menacin', frightenin', find help\nSometimes I scare, myself, myself\n\nTweakin', tweakin' off that 2C-B, huh\nIs he gon' make it? TBD, huh\nThought I was gon' run, DMC, huh\nI done died and lived again on DMT, huh\nSee, this a type of high that won't come down\nThis the type of high that get you gunned down\nYeezy, Yeezy trollin' OD, huh\nTurn TMZ to Smack DVD, huh\nRussell Simmons wanna pray for me too\nI'ma pray for him 'cause he got MeToo'd\nThinkin' what if that happened to me too\nThen I'm on E! News\nShit could get menacin', frightenin', find help\nSometimes I scare myself, myself\nShit could get menacin', frightenin', find help\nSometimes I scare myself, myself\nYou might also like\nAyy, hospital band a hundred bands, fuck a watch\nHundred grand'll make your best friends turn to opps\nI hear y'all bringin' my name up a lot\nGuess I just turned the clout game up a notch\nSee, y'all really shocked, but I'm really not\nYou know how many girls I took to the titty shop?\nIf she get the ass with it, that's a 50 pop\nI still bring the bad bitches in the city out\nUh, just a different type of leader\nWe could be in North Korea, I could smoke with Wiz Khalifa, uh\nTold my wife I've never seen her\nAfter I hit it, bye Felicia, that's the way that I'ma leave it up\n\nShit could get menacin', frightenin', find help\nSee, this is why all the bitches fuck with Ye!\nFuck what they talkin' 'bout!\nSometimes I scare myself, myself\nThey take me on meds, off meds, ask yourself\nShit could get menacin', frightenin', find help\nAsk your homegirl right now, \"Look, you had a shot at Ye?\"\nSometimes I scare myself, myself\nYou'd drop everything!\n\nTweakin', tweakin' off that 2C-B, huh\nThis is why your bitches fuck with me, huh\nSmash, she gon' end up on TV, huh\nLast thing that you ever wanna see, huh\nI can feel the spirits all around me\nI think Prince and Mike was tryna warn me\nThey know I got demons all on me\nDevil been tryna make an army\nThey been strategizin' to harm me\nThey don't know they dealin' with a zombie\nNiggas been tryna test my Gandhi\nJust because I'm dressed like Abercrombie\nYou see? You see?\nThat's what I'm talkin' 'bout!\nThat's why I fuck with Ye!\nSee, that's my third per\u2014\nThat's my bipolar shit, nigga, what?\nThat's my superpower, nigga, ain't no disability\nI'm a superhero! I'm a superhero!\nAgghhh!"}
{"text":"Flashing lights\nFlashing lights\nFlashing lights\nFlashing lights\n\nShe don't believe in shootin' stars\nBut she believe in shoes and cars\nWood floors in the new apartment\nCouture from the store's departments\nYou more like L'eau de Stardee shit\nI'm more of the trips to Florida\nOrdered the hors d'oeuvre, views of the water\nStraight from a page of your favorite author\nAnd the weather so breezy\nMan, why can't life always be this easy?\nShe in the mirror dancin' so sleazy\nI get a call like, \"Where are you, Yeezy?\"\nAnd try to hit you with the ol-wu-wopte\n'Til I got flashed by the paparazzi\nDamn, these niggas got me\nI hate these niggas more than the Nazis\nAs I recall, I know you love to show off\nBut I never thought that you would take it this far\nBut what do I know?\nFlashing lights\nWhat do I know? Know\nFlashing lights\nYou might also like\nI know it's been a while, sweetheart\nWe hardly talk, I was doin' my thing\nI know I was foul, baby\nA-bay, lately, you've been all on my brain\nAnd if somebody would've told me a month ago\nFrontin' though, yo, I wouldn't wanna know\nIf somebody would've told me a year ago\nIt'll go get this difficult\nFeelin' like Katrina with no FEMA\nLike Martin with no Gina\nLike a flight with no Visa\nFirst class with the seat back, I still see ya\nIn my past, you on the other side of the glass\nOf my memory's museum\nI'm just sayin', \"Hey, Mona Lisa\nCome home, you know you can't roam without Caesar\"\n\nAs I recall, I know you love to show off\nBut I never thought that you would take it this far\nBut what do I know?\nFlashing lights\nWhat do I know? Know\nFlashing lights\nAs you recall, you know I love to show off\nBut you never thought that I would take it this far\nBut what do you know?\nFlashing lights\nWhat do you know? Know\nFlashing lights\nFlashing lights\nFlashing lights"}
{"text":"We at war\nWe at war with terrorism, racism\nBut most of all we at war with ourselves\n\n(Jesus, walk)\nGod show me the way because the Devil's tryna break me down\n(Jesus, walk with me)\nYou know what the Midwest is? Young and restless\nWhere restless (Niggas) might snatch your necklace\nAnd next these (Niggas) might jack your Lexus\nSomebody tell these (Niggas) who Kanye West is\nI walk through the valley of the Chi where death is\nTop floor the view alone will leave you breathless *gasps*\nTry to catch it *gasps* it's kinda hard\nGetting choked by detectives, yeah, yeah, now check the method\nThey be askin' us questions, harass and arrest us\nSayin' \"We eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast\"\nHuh? Y'all eat pieces of shit? What's the basis?\nWe ain't going nowhere but got suits and cases\nA trunk full of coke, rental car from Avis\nMy mama used to say only Jesus can save us\nWell mama I know I act a fool\nBut I'll be gone 'til November, I got packs to move\nI hope\nYou might also like\n(Jesus, walk)\nGod show me the way because the Devil's tryna break me down\n(Jesus, walk with me)\nThe only thing that I pray is that my feet don't fail me now\n(Jesus, walk)\nAnd I don't think there's nothin' I can do now to right my wrongs\n(Jesus, walk with me)\nI wanna talk to God but I'm afraid 'cause we ain't spoke in so long\n(Jesus, walk)\nGod show me the way because the Devil's tryna break me down\n(Jesus, walk with me)\nThe only thing that I pray is that my feet don't fail me now\n(Jesus, walk)\nAnd I don't think there's nothin' I can do now to right my wrongs\n(Jesus, walk with me)\nI wanna talk to God but I'm afraid 'cause we ain't spoke in so long\nSo long, so long\n(Jesus, walk with me)\n\nTo the hustlers, killers, murderers, drug dealers, even the scrippers\n(Jesus walks for them)\nTo the victims of welfare feel we livin' in Hell here, hell yeah\n(Jesus walks for them)\nNow, hear ye, hear ye, want to see Thee more clearly\nI know He hear me when my feet get weary\n'Cause we're the almost nearly extinct\nWe rappers is role models: we rap, we don't think\nI ain't here to argue about His facial features\nOr here to convert atheists into believers\nI'm just tryna say the way school need teachers\nThe way Kathie Lee needed Regis, that's the way I need Jesus\nSo here go my single, dawg, radio needs this\nThey say you can rap about anything except for Jesus\nThat means guns, sex, lies, videotape\nBut if I talk about God my record won't get played, huh?\nWell if this take away from my spins\nWhich'll probably take away from my ends\nThen I hope this take away from my sins\nAnd bring the day that I'm dreamin' about\nNext time I'm in the club, everybody screamin' out\n(Jesus, walk)\nGod show me the way because the Devil's tryna break me down\n(Jesus, walk with me)\nThe only thing that I pray is that my feet don't fail me now"}
{"text":"High as light\nTell my baby I'm back in town\nHigh, high, my light\nTell everybody I'm back in town\nHigh, highlight\nTell my baby I'm back in town, town\nHighlight\nWe only makin' the highlights\nTell my mama, tell my mama\nThat I only want my whole life to only be highlights\nWe only makin' the highlights\nTell my mama, tell my mama\nThat I only want my whole life to only be highlights\nCan we play that back one time?\nAnd after that night I'm gon' wanna play this shit back, oh no (Highlight)\nSometimes I'm wishin' that my dick had GoPro (Highlight)\nSo I could play that shit back in slow mo (Slow motion)\nI just shot an amateur video; I think I should go pro\nWe only makin' the highlights\n(Slow motion, slow motion, slow motion)\nDying in the sunlight\nWe only makin' the highlights\nTell my mama, tell my mama\nThat I only want my whole life to only be highlights\nYeah, Jeffery\nYou might also like\nOne life, one night\nUh\nHighlights\nSound like me\nLivin' the life 'til I die\n\nI bet me and Ray J would be friends\nIf we ain't love the same bitch\nYeah, he might have hit it first\nOnly problem is I'm rich (I'm rich, I'm rich, I'm rich)\n(Highlights)\nUh, 21 Grammys, superstar family\nWe the new Jacksons, I'm all about that action\n(We only making the highlights)\nI'm about that Farrakhan, life is a marathon\nI'ma shift the paradigm, I'ma turn up every time\nI'ma bust a coach's head open on some Diddy shit\nIf he ever talk to my son like an idiot\n(I know my life gon' be highlights)\nOne time for a nigga really gettin' it\nTwo times 'cause we got the whole city lit\nAdvice to all my niggas: impregnate Bridget\n(Oh, no, drop that shit back!)\nSo if she have a baby she gon' make another nigga\nGot the Fruit of Islam in the trenches, hah?\nEven though they know Yeezus is a Christian, hah?\nShe spent her whole check on some Christians\nAnd that girl ain't even religious\nWalkin', livin', breathin' god, you know my past well\nHard to believe in God, your nigga got killed\nBlac Chyna fuckin' Rob, help him with the weight\nI wish my trainer would, tell me what I overate\nSo when I'm on vacay, I need to kick back, heh?\nWhat you want?\nYou want a boss or an R&B nigga with a six pack, heh, huh?\nUh, I need every bad bitch up in Equinox\nI need to know right now if you a freak or not\nI need every bad bitch up in Equinox\nI need to know right now if you a freak or not\nI need every bad bitch up in Equinox\nI wanna know right now if you a freak or not\nI need every bad bitch up in Equinox\nI wanna know right now if you a freak or not\nOh lord (Ohh, nah-nah-nah-nah), oh lord (Ohh, nah-nah-nah-nah, nah)\nI need every bad bitch up in Equinox\nI wanna know if you a freak or not\nBad bitch up in Equinox\nI wanna know if you a freak or not\nOh lord, oh my lord (Oh nah nah nah nah)"}
{"text":"Yeah\nAnd you say Chi city!\nChi city! Chi city!\nI'm comin' home again\nDo you think about me now and then? (Yeah)\nDo you think about me now and then?\n'Cause I'm comin' home again (Ow!)\n-Min' home again\n\nI met this girl when I was three years old\nAnd what I loved most, she had so much soul\nShe said, \"Excuse me, little homie, I know you don't know me, but\nMy name is Windy and I like to blow trees,\" and\nFrom that point, I'd never blow her off\nNiggas come from out of town, I like to show her off\nThey like to act tough, she like to tow 'em off\nAnd make 'em straighten up their hat 'cause she know they soft\nAnd when I grew up, she showed me how to go downtown\nIn the nighttime, her face lit up, so astoundin'\nI told her in my heart is where she'll always be\nShe never messed with entertainers 'cause they always leave\nShe said, \"It felt like they walked and drove on me\"\nKnew I was gang affiliated, got on TV and told on me\nI guess that's why last winter she got so cold on me\nShe said, \"Ye, keep makin' that, keep makin' that platinum and gold for me\"\nYou might also like\nI'm comin' home again\nDo you think about me now and then?\nDo you think about me now and then?\n'Cause I'm comin' home again\n-Min' home again\nDo you think about me now and then?\nDo you think about me now and then? Oh!\nNow I'm comin' home again\nMaybe we can start again\n\nBut if you really cared for her\nThen you wouldn't've never hit the airport to follow your dreams\nSometimes I still talk to her\nBut when I talk to her, it always seems like she talkin' 'bout me\nShe said, \"You left your kids, and they just like you\nThey wanna rap and make soul beats just like you\nBut they just not you,\" and I just got through\nTalkin' 'bout what niggas tryin' to do just not new\nNow everybody got the game figured out all wrong\nI guess you never know what you got 'til it's gone\nI guess that's why I'm here and I can't come back home\nAnd guess when I heard that? When I was back home\nEvery interview, I'm representin' you, makin' you proud\nReach for the stars, so if you fall, you land on a cloud\nJump in the crowd, spark your lighters, wave 'em around\nIf you don't know by now, I'm talkin' 'bout Chi-Town\nI'm comin' home again\nDo you think about me now and then?\nDo you think about me now and then?\n'Cause I'm comin' home again\n-Min' home again\nBaby, do you remember when\nFireworks at Lake Michigan? Oh!\nNow I'm comin' home again\n-Min' home again\nBaby, do you remember when\nFireworks at Lake Michigan? Oh!\nNow I'm comin' home again\nMaybe we can start again\n\nLoy-oy-al, loy-oy-al\nComin' home again\nLoy-oy-al, loy-oy-al\nComin' home again\nMaybe we can start again"}
{"text":"1001 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1ol\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easPolskiAz\u0259rbaycanca \/ \u0622\u0630\u0631\u0628\u0627\u064a\u062c\u0627\u0646DeutschHUMBLE. Lyrics\nNobody pray for me\nIt been that day for me\nWay (Yeah, yeah)\n\nAyy, I remember syrup sandwiches and crime allowances\nFinesse a nigga with some counterfeits, but now I'm countin\u2019 this\nParmesan where my accountant lives, in fact, I'm downin' this\nD\u2019USS\u00c9 with my boo bae, tastes like Kool-Aid for the analysts\nGirl, I can buy your ass the world with my paystub\nOoh, that pussy good, won't you sit it on my taste bloods?\nI get way too petty once you let me do the extras\nPull up on your block, then break it down: we playin' Tetris\nAM to the PM, PM to the AM, funk\nPiss out your per diem, you just gotta hate 'em, funk\nIf I quit your BM, I still ride Mercedes, funk\nIf I quit this season, I still be the greatest, funk\nMy left stroke just went viral\nRight stroke put lil' baby in a spiral\nSoprano C, we like to keep it on a high note\nIt's levels to it, you and I know\n\nBitch, be humble (Hol' up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, lil\u2019, hol\u2019 up, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Hol\u2019 up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, sit down, lil', sit down, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Hol\u2019 up, hol' up)\nBitch, sit down (Hol' up, hol' up, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Lil' bitch, hol' up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up)\nBe humble (Hol' up, hol' up)\nSit down (Hol' up, hol' up, lil', hol' up, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Hol' up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, sit down, lil', sit down, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Hol' up, hol' up)\nBitch, sit down (Hol' up, hol' up, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Lil' bitch, hol' up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up)\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nWho that nigga thinkin' that he frontin' on Man-Man? (Man-Man)\nGet the fuck off my stage, I'm the Sandman (Sandman)\nGet the fuck off my dick, that ain't right\nI make a play fucking up your whole life\nI'm so fuckin' sick and tired of the Photoshop\nShow me somethin' natural like afro on Richard Pryor\nShow me somethin' natural like ass with some stretch marks\nStill I take you down right on your mama couch in Polo socks\nAyy, this shit way too crazy, ayy, you do not amaze me, ayy\nI blew cool from AC, ayy, Obama just paged me, ayy\nI don't fabricate it, ayy, most of y'all be fakin', ayy\nI stay modest 'bout it, ayy, she elaborate it, ayy\nThis that Grey Poupon, that Evian, that TED Talk, ayy\nWatch my soul speak, you let the meds talk, ayy\nIf I kill a nigga, it won't be the alcohol, ayy\nI'm the realest nigga after all\n\nBitch, be humble (Hol' up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, lil', hol' up, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Hol' up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, sit down, lil', sit down, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Hol' up, hol' up)\nBitch, sit down (Hol' up, hol' up, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Lil' bitch, hol' up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up)\nBe humble (Hol' up, hol' up)\nSit down (Hol' up, hol' up, lil', hol' up, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Hol' up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, sit down, lil', sit down, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Hol' up, hol' up)\nBitch, sit down (Hol' up, hol' up, lil' bitch)\nBe humble (Lil' bitch, hol' up, bitch)\nSit down (Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up)1.2KEmbed"}
{"text":"If Pirus and Crips all got along\nThey'd probably gun me down by the end of this song\nSeem like the whole city go against me\nEvery time I'm in the street, I hear\u2014\nYawk! Yawk! Yawk! Yawk!\nMan down, where you from, nigga?\nFuck who you know\u2014where you from, my nigga?\nWhere your grandma stay, huh, my nigga?\nThis m.A.A.d city I run, my nigga\nBrace yourself, I'll take you on a trip down memory lane\nThis is not a rap on how I'm slingin' crack or move cocaine\nThis is cul-de-sac and plenty Cognac and major pain\nNot the drill sergeant, but the stress that weighin' on your brain\nIt was me, L Boog, and Yan Yan, YG Lucky ride down Rosecrans\nIt got ugly, wavin' yo' hand out the window \u2014 check yourself\nUh, Warriors and Conans, hope euphoria can slow dance\nWith society, the driver seat the first one to get killed\nSeen a light-skinned nigga with his brains blown out\nAt the same burger stand where **** hang out\nNow this is not a tape recorder sayin' that he did it\nBut ever since that day, I was lookin' at him different\nThat was back when I was nine, Joey packed the nine\nPakistan on every porch is fine, we adapt to crime\nPack a van with four guns at a time\nWith the sliding door, fuck is up?\nFuck you shootin' for if you ain't walkin' up, you fuckin' punk?\nPickin' up the fuckin' pump, pickin' off you suckers\nSuck a dick or die or sucker punch\nA wall of bullets comin' from AK's, AR's, \"Ayy, y'all\u2014duck\"\nThat's what mama said when we was eatin' that free lunch\nAw man, goddamn, all hell broke loose\nYou killed my cousin back in '94, fuck yo' truce\nNow crawl your head in that noose\nYou wind up dead on the news\nAin't no peace treaty, just piecin' BGs up to pre-approve\nBodies on top of bodies, IVs on top of IVs\nObviously the coroner between the sheets like the Isleys\nWhen you hop on that trolley, make sure your color's correct\nMake sure you're corporate or they'll be callin' your mother collect\nThey say the governor collect all of our taxes, except\nWhen we in traffic and tragic happens, that shit ain't no threat\nYou movin' backwards if you suggest that you sleep with a TEC\nGo buy a chopper and have a doctor on speed dial, I guess\n\u200bm.A.A.d. city\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nMan down, where you from, nigga?\nFuck who you know\u2014where you from, my nigga?\nWhere your grandma stay, huh, my nigga?\nThis m.A.A.d city I run, my nigga\nIf Pirus and Crips all got along\nThey'd probably gun me down by the end of this song\nSeem like the whole city go against me\nEvery time I'm in the street, I hear\u2014\nYawk! Yawk! Yawk!\u2014\n\nWake yo' punk-ass up\nIt ain't nothin' but a Compton thang\nG-yeah, real simple and plain\nLet me teach you some lessons about the street\n(Smoke somethin', nigga)\nHood ('Sup, cuz?)\nIt ain't nothin' but a Compton thang\nG-yeah, how we do\n\nFresh outta school 'cause I was a high school grad'\nSleepin' in the living room of my mama's pad\nReality struck, I seen the white car crash\nHit the light pole, two niggas hopped out on foot and dashed (Watch out, cuz)\nMy pops said I needed a job, I thought I believed him\nSecurity guard for a month and ended up leavin'\nIn fact, I got fired 'cause I was inspired by all of my friends\nTo stage a robbery the third Saturday I clocked in\nProjects tore up, gang signs get thrown up (Sup?)\nCocaine laced in marijuana\nAnd they wonder why I rarely smoke now\nImagine if your first blunt had you foamin' at the mouth\nI was straight tweakin', the next weekend we broke even\nI made allegiance that made a promise to see you bleedin'\nYou know the reasons but still'll never know my life\nKendrick a.k.a. \"Compton's Human Sacrifice\"\nG-yeah, cocaine, weed\nNiggas been mixin' shit since the '80s, loc\nSherm sticks, butt-nakeds\nDip, make a nigga flip\nCluck heads all up and down the block and shit\nOne time's crooked and shit\nBlock a nigga in\nAlondra, Rosecrans, Bullis, it's Compton\nI'm still in the hood, loc, yeah, that's cool\nShit, the hood took me under, so I follow the rules\nBut, yeah, that's like me, I grew up in the hood where they bang\nAnd niggas that rep colors is doin' the same thang\nPass it to the left so I can smoke on me\nA couple drive-bys in the hood lately, yeah\nCouple of IV's with the fuckin' spray-can\nShots in the crowd, then everybody ran\nCrew I'm finna slay, the street life I crave\nShots hit the enemy, hearts turn brave\nMount up, regulators in the whip\nDown the boulevard with the pistol grip, yeah\nTrip, we in the hood still\nSo, loc, grab a strap 'cause, yeah, it's so real, yeah\nDeal with the outcome, a strap in the hand\nAnd a bird and ten grand's where a mothafucka stand\nIf I told you I killed a nigga at sixteen, would you believe me?\nPerceive me to be innocent Kendrick you seen in the street\nWith a basketball and some Now and Laters to eat?\nIf I mentioned all of my skeletons, would you jump in the seat?\nWould you say my intelligence now is great relief?\nAnd it's safe to say that our next generation maybe can sleep\nWith dreams of bein' a lawyer or doctor\nInstead of boy with a chopper that hold the cul-de-sac hostage\nKill 'em all if they gossip\nThe Children of the Corn, they vandalizin' the option\nOf livin' a lie, drown their body with toxins\nConstantly drinkin' and drive\nHit the powder, then watch this flame that arrive in his eye\nListen, coward, the concept is aim and then bang it and slide\nOut that bitch with deposit, a price on his head, the tithes\nProbably go to the projects\nI live inside the belly of the rough, Compton, USA\nMade me an Angel on Angel Dust, what?\n\u200bm.A.A.d city\nCompton\nNigga, pass Dot the bottle, damn\nYou ain't the one that got fucked up\nWhat you holdin' it for?\nNiggas always actin' unsensitive and shit\nNigga, that ain't no word\nNigga, shut up\nHey, Dot, you good, my nigga?\nDon't even trip\nJust lay back and drink that2.2KEmbed"}
{"text":"Pour up (Drank), head shot (Drank)\nSit down (Drank), stand up (Drank)\nPass out (Drank), wake up (Drank)\nFaded (Drank), faded (Drank)\n\nNow, I done grew up round some people livin' their life in bottles\nGranddaddy had the golden flask, backstroke every day in Chicago\nSome people like the way it feel, some people wanna kill their sorrow\nSome people wanna fit in with the popular, that was my problem\nI was in a dark room, loud tunes, lookin' to make a vow soon\nThat I'ma get fucked up, fillin' up my cup I see the crowd mood\nChangin' by the minute and the record on repeat\nTook a sip, then another sip, then somebody said to me\nNigga, why you babysittin' only two or three shots?\nI'ma show you how to turn it up a notch\nFirst, you get a swimming pool full of liquor, then you dive in it\nPool full of liquor, then you dive in it\nI wave a few bottles, then I watch 'em all flock\nAll the girls wanna play Baywatch\nI got a swimming pool full of liquor and they dive in it\nPo-Pool full of liquor, I'ma dive in it\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nPour up (Drank), head shot (Drank)\nSit down (Drank), stand up (Drank)\nPass out (Drank), wake up (Drank)\nFaded (Drank), faded (Drank)\nOkay, now open your mind up and listen me, Kendrick\nI am your conscience, if you do not hear me then you will be history, Kendrick\nI know that you're nauseous right now and I'm hopin' to lead you to victory, Kendrick\nIf I take another one down, I'ma drown in some poison, abusin' my limit\nI think that I'm feelin' the vibe, I see the love in her eyes\nI see the feelin', the freedom is granted as soon as the damage of vodka arrived\nThis how you capitalize, this is parental advised, and apparently, I'm over-influenced\nBy what you are doin', I thought I was doin' the most 'til someone said to me\nNigga, why you babysittin' only two or three shots?\nI'ma show you how to turn it up a notch\nFirst, you get a swimming pool full of liquor, then you dive in it\nPool full of liquor, then you dive in it\nI wave a few bottles, then I watch 'em all flock\nAll the girls wanna play Baywatch\nI got a swimming pool full of liquor and they dive in it\nPo-Pool full of liquor, I'ma dive in it\nPour up (Drank), head shot (Drank)\nSit down (Drank), stand up (Drank)\nPass out (Drank), wake up (Drank)\nFaded (Drank), faded (Drank)\n\nI ride, you ride, bang\nOne chopper, one hundred shots, bang\nHop out, do you bang?\nTwo chopper, two hundred shots, bang\nI ride, you ride, bang\nOne chopper, one hundred shots, bang\nHop out, do you bang?\nTwo chopper, two hundred shots, bang\nNigga, why you babysittin' only two or three shots?\nI'ma show you how to turn it up a notch\nFirst, you get a swimming pool full of liquor, then you dive in it\nPool full of liquor, then you dive in it\nI wave a few bottles, then I watch 'em all flock\nAll the girls wanna play Baywatch\nI got a swimming pool full of liquor and they dive in it\nPo-Pool full of liquor, I'ma dive in it\nPour up (Drank), head shot (Drank)\nSit down (Drank), stand up (Drank)\nPass out (Drank), wake up (Drank)\nFaded (Drank), faded (Drank)\nSherane\nSherane (Pool\u2014Kendrick\u2014Kendrick\u2014lies in it)\nSherane, Sherane\n(W-watch 'em all flock) Aw man\u2026\nSherane (Girls wanna play-play-play)\nWhere is she takin' me? (I got)\nWhere is she takin' me? (Pool full of liquor, I'ma die in...)\n\nAll I\u2014all I\u2014all I\u2014\nAll I have in life is my new appetite for failure\nAnd I got hunger pain that grow insane, tell me, do that sound familiar?\nIf it do, then you're like me, makin' excuse that your relief\nIs in the bottom of a bottle and the greenest indo leaf\nAs the window open I release everything that corrode inside of me\nI see you jokin', why you laugh? Don't you feel bad? I prob'ly sleep\nAnd never ever wake up, never ever wake up, never ever wake up\nIn God I trust, but just when I thought I had enough\n\"They stomped the homie out over a bitch?\nK-Dot, you good, blood?\nNow we can drop, ye we can drop you back off\"\n\"That nigga's straight, man, that nigga ain't trippin'\"\n\"We gon' do the same ol' shit\nI'ma pop a few shots, they gon' ru\u2014they run opposite way\nFall right in ****'s lap\nAnd he gon' tear they ass up, simple as that\"\n\"And I hope that bitch that set him up, out there\nWe gon' pop that bitch too\"\n\"Wait hold up, ayy, I see somebody\"\n*Car door opens and gunshots are fired*\n\"Aha! Got them niggas, K-Dot, you good?\"\n\"L****, you good?\"\n\"Yeah, blood, I'm good \u2013 Dave, you good?\nDave? Dave, say somethin' \u2013 Dave?\nThese bitch-ass niggas killed my brother!\""}
{"text":"I got, I got, I got, I got\u2014\nLoyalty, got royalty inside my DNA\nCocaine quarter piece, got war and peace inside my DNA\nI got power, poison, pain, and joy inside my DNA\nI got hustle, though, ambition flow inside my DNA\nI was born like this, since one like this, immaculate conception\nI transform like this, perform like this, was Yeshua new weapon\nI don't contemplate, I meditate, then off your fucking head\nThis that put-the-kids-to-bed\nThis that I got, I got, I got, I got\u2014\nRealness, I just kill shit \u2019cause it's in my DNA\nI got millions, I got riches buildin' in my DNA\nI got dark, I got evil that rot inside my DNA\nI got off, I got troublesome heart inside my DNA\nI just win again, then win again like Wimbledon, I serve\nYeah, that\u2019s him again, the sound that engine in is like a bird\nYou see fireworks and Corvette tire skrrt the boulevard\nI know how you work, I know just who you are\nSee, you's a, you's a, you's a\u2014\nBitch, your hormones prolly switch inside your DNA\nProblem is, all that sucker shit inside your DNA\nDaddy prolly snitched, heritage inside your DNA\nBackbone don't exist, born outside a jellyfish, I gauge\nSee, my pedigree most definitely don't tolerate the front\nShit I've been through prolly offend you, this is Paula's oldest son\nI know murder, conviction\nBurners, boosters, burglars, ballers, dead, redemption\nScholars, fathers dead with kids and\nI wish I was fed forgiveness\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, soldier\u2019s DNA (I\u2019m a soldier's DNA)\nBorn inside the beast, my expertise checked out in second grade\nWhen I was 9, on cell, motel, we didn\u2019t have nowhere to stay\nAt 29, I've done so well, hit cartwheel in my estate\nAnd I'm gon' shine like I\u2019m supposed to, antisocial extrovert\nAnd excellent mean the extra work\nAnd absentness what the fuck you heard\nAnd pessimists never struck my nerve\nAnd Nazareth gonna plead his case\nThe reason my power's here on earth\nSalute the truth, when the prophet say\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nI-I got loyalty, got royalty inside my DNA\nThis is why I say that hip hop has done more damage to young African Americans than racism in recent years\nI-I got loyalty, got royalty inside my DNA\nI live a better life, I'm rollin' several dice, fuck your life\nI-I got loyalty, got royalty inside my DNA\nI live a be-, fuck your life\nFive, four, three, two, one\nThis is my heritage, all I'm inheritin'\nMoney and power, the mecca of marriages\nTell me somethin'\nYou mothafuckas can't tell me nothin'\nI'd rather die than to listen to you\nMy DNA not for imitation\nYour DNA an abomination\nThis how it is when you in the Matrix\nDodgin' bullets, reapin' what you sow\nAnd stackin' up the footage, livin' on the go\nAnd sleepin' in a villa\nSippin' from a Grammy, walkin' in the buildin'\nDiamond in the ceilin', marble on the floors\nBeach inside the window, peekin' out the window\nBaby in the pool, godfather goals\nOnly Lord knows I've been goin' hammer\nDodgin' paparazzi, freakin' through the cameras\nEat at Four Daughters, Brock wearin' sandals\nYoga on a Monday, stretchin' to Nirvana\nWatchin' all the snakes, curvin' all the fakes\nPhone never on, I don't conversate\nI don't compromise, I just penetrate\nSex, money, murder\u2014these are the breaks\nThese are the times, level number nine\nLook up in the sky, ten is on the way\nSentence on the way, killings on the way\nMotherfucker, I got winners on the way\nYou ain't shit without a body on your belt\nYou ain't shit without a ticket on your plate\nYou ain't sick enough to pull it on yourself\nYou ain't rich enough to hit the lot and skate\nTell me when destruction gonna be my fate\nGonna be your fate, gonna be our faith\nPeace to the world, let it rotate\nSex, money, murder\u2014our DNA"}
{"text":"Uh, me and my niggas tryna get it, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nHit the house lick: tell me, is you wit' it, ya bish? (Ya bish, ya bish)\nHome invasion was persuasive (Was persuasive, was persuasive)\nFrom nine to five I know it's vacant, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nDreams of livin' life like rappers do (Like rappers do, like rappers do)\nBack when condom wrappers wasn't cool (They wasn't cool, they wasn't cool)\nI fucked Sherane and went to tell my bros (Tell my bros, tell my bros)\nThen Usher Raymond \"Let It Burn\" came on (\"Let Burn\" came on, \"Let Burn\" came on)\nHot sauce all in our Top Ramen, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nPark the car, then we start rhymin', ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nThe only thing we had to free our mind (Free our mind, free our mind)\nThen freeze that verse when we see dollar signs (See dollar signs, see dollar signs)\nYou lookin' like a easy come-up, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nA silver spoon, I know you come from, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nAnd that's a lifestyle that we never knew (We never knew, we never knew)\nGo at a reverend for the revenue\n\nIt go Halle Berry or hallelujah\nPick your poison, tell me what you doin'\nEverybody gon' respect the shooter\nBut the one in front of the gun lives forever\n(The one in front of the gun, forever)\nAnd I been hustlin' all-day\nThis-a-way, that-a-way\nThrough canals and alleyways, just to say\nMoney trees is the perfect place for shade\nAnd that's jus how I feel\nNah, nah\nA dollar might just fuck your main bitch\nThat's jus' how I feel, nah\nA dollar might say fuck them niggas that you came with\nThat's jus' how I feel, nah, nah\nA dollar might just make that lane switch\nThat's jus' how I feel, nah\nA dollar might turn to a million and we all rich\nThat's jus' how I feel\n\nDreams of livin' life like rappers do (Like rappers do, like rappers do)\nBump that new E-40 after school (Way after school, way after school)\nYou know, \u201cBig Ballin' With My Homies\u201d (My homies)\nEarl Stevens had us thinkin' rational (Thinkin' rational, that's rational)\nBack to reality, we poor, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nAnother casualty at war, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nTwo bullets in my Uncle Tony head (My Tony head, my Tony head)\nHe said one day I'll be on tour, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nThat Louis Burgers never be the same (Won't be the same, won't be the same)\nA Louis belt that never ease that pain (Won't ease that pain, won't ease that pain)\nBut I'ma purchase when that day is jerkin' (That day is jerkin', that day is jerkin')\nPull off at Church's, with Pirellis skirtin' (Pirellis skirtin', Pirellis skirtin')\nGang signs out the window, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nHopin' all of 'em offend you, ya bish (Ya bish, ya bish)\nThey say your hood is a pot o' gold (A pot o' gold, a pot o' gold)\nAnd we gon' crash it when nobody's home\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nIt go Halle Berry or hallelujah\nPick your poison, tell me what you doin'\nEverybody gon' respect the shooter\nBut the one in front of the gun lives forever\n(The one in front of the gun, forever)\nAnd I been hustlin' all-day\nThis-a-way, that-a-way\nThrough canals and alleyways, just to say\nMoney trees is the perfect place for shade\nAnd that's jus' how I feel\n\nNah, nah\nA dollar might just fuck your main bitch\nThat's jus' how I feel, nah\nA dollar might say fuck them niggas that you came with\nThat's jus' how I feel, nah, nah\nA dollar might just make that lane switch\nThat's jus' how I feel, nah\nA dollar might turn to a million and we all rich\nThat's jus' how I feel\nBe the last one out to get this dough? No way!\nLove one of you bucket headed hoes? No way!\nHit the streets, then we break the code? No way!\nHit the brakes when they on patrol? No way!\nBe the last one out to get this dough? No way!\nLove one of you bucket headed hoes? No way!\nHit the streets, then we break the code? No way!\nHit the brakes when they on patrol? No way!\n'Magine Rock up in them projects where them niggas pick your pockets\nSanta Claus don't miss them stockings; liquors spillin', pistols poppin'\nBakin' soda YOLA whippin', ain't no turkey on Thanksgivin'\nMy homeboy just dome'd a nigga, I just hope the Lord forgive him\nPots with cocaine residue, every day I'm hustlin'\nWhat else is a thug to do when you eatin' cheese from the government?\nGotta provide for my daughter n'em\u2014get the fuck up out my way, bish!\nGot that drum and I got them bands just like a parade, bish!\nDrop that work up in the bushes, hope them boys don't see my stash\nIf they do, tell the truth, this the last time you might see my ass\nFrom the gardens where the grass ain't cut, them serpents lurkin', Blood\nBitches sellin' pussy, niggas sellin' drugs but it's all good\nBroken promises, steal your watch and tell you what time it is\nTake your J's and tell you to kick it where a Foot Locker is\nIn the streets with a heater under my Dungarees\nDreams of me gettin' shaded under a money tree\n\nIt go Halle Berry or hallelujah\nPick your poison, tell me what you doin'\nEverybody gon' respect the shooter\nBut the one in front of the gun lives forever\n(The one in front of the gun, forever)\nAnd I been hustlin' all-day\nThis-a-way, that-a-way\nThrough canals and alleyways, just to say\nMoney trees is the perfect place for shade\nAnd that's jus' how I feel\n\nPAULA DUCKWORTH: Kendrick, just bring my car back, man. I-I called in for another appointment. I figured you weren\u2019t gonna be back here on time anyway. Look, shit, shit, I just wanna get out the house, man. This man is on one. He feelin' good as a motherfucker. Shit, I\u2019m tryna get my thing goin', too. I'm going to Merlin' house. Just bring my car back. Shit, he faded. He feelin' good. Look, listen to him!\nKENNETH DUCKWORTH: Girl, girl, I want your body, I want your body, 'cause you got a big ol\u2019 fat ass. Girl, girl, I want your body, I want your body, 'cause of that big ol\u2019 fat ass. Girl, I want your body, 'cause of that big ol\u2019\u2014\nPAULA DUCKWORTH: See, he high as hell. Shit, and he ain\u2019t even trippin' off them dominoes no more. Just bring the car back!\nKENNETH DUCKWORTH: Did somebody say dominoes?"}
{"text":"America\nGod bless you if it's good to ya\nAmerica, please take my hand\nCan you help me underst\u2014\nNew Kung Fu Kenny!\n\nThrow a steak off the ark to a pool full of sharks\nHe'll take it\nLeave him in the wilderness with a sworn nemesis\nHe'll make it (He'll make it)\nTake the gratitude from him, I bet he'll show you somethin'\nWoah (Woah)\nI chip a nigga lil' bit of nothin'\nI chip a nigga lil' bit of nothin'\nI chip a nigga lil' bit of nothin'\nI chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lap\nWalk myself to the court like, \"Bitch, I did that!,\" X-rated\nJohnny don't wanna go to school no mo', no mo'\nJohnny said books ain't cool no mo' (No mo')\nJohnny wanna be a rapper like his big cousin\nJohnny caught a body yesterday out hustlin'\nGod bless America, you know we all love him\nYesterday, I got a call, like, from my dawg, like 101\nSaid they killed his only son because of insufficient funds\nHe was sobbin', he was mobbin', way belligerent and drunk\nTalkin' out his head, philosophin' on what the Lord had done\nHe said: \"K-Dot, can you pray for me? It been a fucked up day for me\nI know that you anointed, show me how to overcome.\"\nHe was lookin' for some closure, hopin' I could bring him closer\nTo the spiritual, my spirit do know better, but I told him\n\"I can't sugarcoat the answer for you, this is how I feel:\nIf somebody kill my son, that mean somebody gettin' killed.\"\nTell me what you do for love, loyalty, and passion of\nAll the memories collected, moments you could never touch\nI wait in front a nigga's spot and watch him hit his block\nI catch a nigga leavin' service if that's all I got\nI chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lap\nWalk myself to the court like, \"Bitch, I did that!\"\nAin't no Black Power when your baby killed by a coward\nI can't even keep the peace, don't you fuck with one of ours\nIt be murder in the street, it be bodies in the hour\nGhetto bird be on the street, paramedics on the dial\nLet somebody touch my momma, touch my sister, touch my woman\nTouch my daddy, touch my niece, touch my nephew, touch my brother\nYou should chip a nigga, then throw the blower in his lap\nMatter fact, I'm 'bout to speak at this convention, call you back\u2014\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nAlright, kids, we're gonna talk about gun control\n(Pray for me) Damn!\n\nIt's not a place\nThis country is to me a sound\nOf drum and bass\nYou close your eyes to look around\n\nHail Mary, Jesus and Joseph\nThe great American flag is wrapped in drag with explosives\nCompulsive disorder, sons and daughters\nBarricaded blocks and borders\u2014look what you taught us\nIt's murder on my street, your street, back streets, Wall Street\nCorporate offices, banks, employees, and bosses with\nHomicidal thoughts; Donald Trump's in office\nWe lost Barack and promised to never doubt him again\nBut is America honest, or do we bask in sin?\nPass the gin, I mix it with American blood\nThen bash him in, you Crippin' or you married to Blood?\nI'll aks again\u2014oops, accident\nIt's nasty when you set us up then roll the dice, then bet us up\nYou overnight the big rifles, then tell Fox to be scared of us\nGang members or terrorists, et cetera, et cetera\nAmerica's reflections of me, that's what a mirror does\nIt's not a place\nThis country is to me a sound\nOf drum and bass\nYou close your eyes to look ar\u2014"}
{"text":"I am a sinner\nWho's prob'ly gonna sin again\nLord, forgive me, Lord, forgive me\nThings I don't understand\nSometimes I need to be alone\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nI can feel your energy from two planets away, I got\nMy drink, I got my music, I would share it, but today I'm yellin'\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\n\nLook inside of my soul and you can find gold and maybe get rich\nLook inside of your soul and you can find out it never exist\nI can feel the changes, I can feel a new life, I always\nKnew life can be dangerous, I can say that I like a challenge\nAnd you tell me it's painless, you don't know what pain is\nHow can I paint this picture when the color blind is hangin' witcha?\nFell on my face and awoke with a scar, another mistake livin' deep in my heart\nWear it on top of my sleeve in a flick, I can admit that it did look like yours\nWhy you resent every makin' of his? Tell me your purpose is petty again\nBut even a small lighter can burn a bridge, even a small lighter can burn a bridge\n\nI can feel the changes, I can feel the new people round me\nJust wanna be famous, you can see that my city found me\nThen put me on stages, to me, that's amazin'\nTo you, that's a quick check, with all disrespect, let me say this\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nI am a sinner\nWho's prob'ly gonna sin again\nLord, forgive me, Lord, forgive me\nThings I don't understand\nSometimes I need to be alone\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nI can feel your energy from two planets away, I got\nMy drink, I got my music, I would share it, but today I'm yellin'\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\n\nI'm tryna keep it alive and not compromise the feelin' we love\nYou're tryna keep it deprived and only co-sign what radio does\nAnd I'm lookin' right past ya, we live in a world, we live in a world\nOn two different axles, you live in a world, you livin' behind\nThe mirror, I know what you're scared of, the feeling of feeling emotions inferior\nThis shit is vital, I know you had to, this shit is vital, I know you had to\nDie in a pitiful vain, tell me a watch and a chain is way more believable\nGive me a feasible gain, rather a seasonal name, I'll let the people know\nThis is somethin' you can blame on yourselves, you can remain stuck in a box\nI'ma breakout and then hide every lock, I'ma breakout and then hide every lock\n\nI can feel the changes, I can feel the new people round me\nJust wanna be famous, you can see that my city found me\nThen put me on stages, to me, that's amazin'\nTo you, that's a quick check, with all disrespect, let me say this\nI am a sinner\nWho's prob'ly gonna sin again\nLord, forgive me, Lord, forgive me\nThings I don't understand\nSometimes I need to be alone\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nI can feel your energy from two planets away, I got\nMy drink, I got my music, I would share it, but today I'm yellin'\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\n\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, you ain't heard the coast\nLike this in a long time, don't you see that long line?\nAnd they waitin' on Kendrick like the 1st and the 15th\nThrees in the air, I can see you are in sync\nHide your feelings, hide your feelings, now, what you better do\nI'll take your girlfriend then put that pussy on the pedestal\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nWalk out the door and they scream, \"It's alive!\"\nMy New Year's resolution is to stop all the pollution\nTalk too motherfuckin' much, I got my drink, I got my music\nI say, bitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\n\"K-Dot, get in the car, nigga!\nCome on, we finna roll out!\nNigga, I got a pack of blacks and a beat CD\nGet yo' freestyles ready!\""}
{"text":"I got a bone to pick\nI don't want you monkey-mouth motherfuckers\nSittin' in my throne again\nAyy, ayy, nigga, what's happenin'?\nK-Dot back in the hood, nigga!\nI'm mad (He mad!), but I ain't stressin'\nTrue friends, one question\n\nBitch, where you when I was walkin'?\nNow I run the game, got the whole world talkin'\nKing Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him\nKunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah\nBitch, where you when I was walkin'?\nNow I run the game, got the whole world talkin'\nKing Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him\nWhen you got the yams\u2014(What's the yams?)\n\nThe yam is the power that be\nYou can smell it when I'm walkin' down the street\n(Oh yes, we can, oh yes, we can)\nI can dig rappin', but a rapper with a ghostwriter?\nWhat the fuck happened? (Oh no!)\nI swore I wouldn't tell, but most of y'all sharing bars\nLike you got the bottom bunk in a two-man cell (A two-man cell)\nSomething's in the water (Something's in the water)\nAnd if I gotta brown-nose for some gold\nThen I'd rather be a bum than a motherfuckin' baller (Oh yeah!)\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nBitch, where you when I was walkin'?\nNow I run the game, got the whole world talkin'\nKing Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him\nKing Kunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah\nBitch, where you when I was walkin'?\nNow I run the game, got the whole world talkin'\nKing Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him\nWhen you got the yams\u2014(What's the yams?)\n\nThe yam brought it out of Richard Pryor\nManipulated Bill Clinton with desires\nTwenty-four-seven, three-sixty-five days times two\nI was contemplatin' gettin' off stage\nJust to go back to the hood, see my enemy, and say\u2026 (Oh yeah)\n\nBitch, where you when I was walkin'?\nNow I run the game, got the whole world talkin'\nKing Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him\nKunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah\nBitch, where you when I was walkin'?\nNow I run the game, got the whole world talkin'\nKing Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him\nYou goat-mouth mammyfucker\nI was gonna kill a couple rappers, but they did it to themselves\nEverybody's suicidal, they ain't even need my help\nThis shit is elementary, I'll probably go to jail\nIf I shoot at your identity and bounce to the left\nStuck a flag in my city, everybody's screamin', \"Compton!\"\nI should probably run for mayor when I'm done, to be honest\nAnd I put that on my momma and my baby boo too\nTwenty million walkin' out the court buildin', woo-woo!\nAw, yeah, fuck the judge\nI made it past twenty-five, and there I was\nA little nappy-headed nigga with the world behind him\nLife ain't shit but a fat vagina\nScreamin', \"Annie, are you okay? Annie, are you okay?\"\nLimo tinted with the gold plates\nStraight from the bottom, this the belly of the beast\nFrom a peasant to a prince to a motherfuckin' king (Oh yeah)\n\nBitch, where you when I was walkin'\u2014*Gunshot*\nBy the time you hear the next pop\nThe funk shall be within you\u2014*Gunshot*\nNow I run the game, got the whole world talkin'\nKing Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him\nKing Kunta, black man taking no losses, oh yeah\nBitch, where you when I was walkin'?\nNow I run the game, got the whole world talkin'\nKing Kunta, everybody wanna cut the legs off him\nFunk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk, funk\nWe want the funk\nWe want the funk\nNow if I give you the funk, you gon' take it?\nWe want the funk\nNow if I give you the funk, you gon' take it?\nWe want the funk\nNow if I give you the funk, you gon' take it?\nWe want the funk\nDo you want the funk?\nWe want the funk\nDo you want the funk?\nWe want the funk\nNow if I give you the funk, you gon' take it?\nWe want the funk\n\nI remember you was conflicted, misusing your influence2KEmbed"}
{"text":"Every second, every minute, man, I swear that she can get it\nSay, if you a bad bitch, put your hands up high\nHands up high, hands up high\nTell 'em dim the lights down right now, put me in the mood\nI'm talkin' 'bout dark room, perfume\nGo, go\n\nI recognize your fragrance, hol' up, you ain't never gotta say shit, uh\nAnd I know your taste is a little bit, mmm, high maintenance, uh\nEverybody else basic, you live life on an everyday basis\nWith poetic justice, poetic justice\nIf I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?\nI mean, I write poems in these songs dedicated to you when\nYou're in the mood for empathy, there's blood in my pen\nBetter yet, where your friends and 'em? I really wanna know you all\nI really wanna show you off, fuck that, pour up plenty\nOf champagne, cold nights when you curse this name\nYou called up your girlfriends and y'all curled in that little bitty Range, I heard that\nShe wanna go and party, she wanna go and party\nNigga, don't approach her with that Atari, nigga, that ain't good game, homie, sorry\nThey say conversation rule a nation, I can tell\nBut I could never right my wrongs 'less I write it down for real, PS\n\nAnytime\nYou can get it, you can get it, you can get it, you can get it\nAnd I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want\nPoetic justice, put it in a song, alright\nAnytime\nYou can get it, you can get it, you can get it, you can get it\nAnd I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want\nPoetic justice, put it in a song, alright\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nI really hope you play this 'cause, oh, girl, you test my patience\nWith all these seductive photographs and all these one-off vacations\nYou've been takin', clearly a lot for me to take in, it don't make sense\nYoung East African girl, you too busy fuckin' witcha other man\nI was tryna put you on game, put you on a plane, take you and your momma to the motherland, I could do it\nMaybe one day when you figure out you're gonna need someone\nWhen you figure out it's alright here in the city and you don't run from where we come from\nThat sound like poetic justice, poetic justice\nYou were so new to this life, but goddamn, you got adjusted\nI mean, I write poems in these songs, dedicated to the fun sex\nYour natural hair and your soft skin and your big ass in that sundress, ooh\nGood God, what you doin' that walk for?\nWhen I see that thing move, I just wish we would fight less and we would talk more\nThey say communication save relations, I can tell\nBut I can never right my wrongs unless I write 'em down for real, PS\n\nAnytime\nYou can get it, you can get it, you can get it, you can get it\nAnd I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want\nPoetic justice, put it in a song, alright\nAnytime\nYou can get it, you can get it, you can get it, you can get it\nAnd I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want\nPoetic justice, put it in a song, alright\nEvery time I write these words they become a taboo\nMakin' sure my punctuation curve, every letter here's true\nLivin' my life in the margin and that metaphor was proof, I'm talkin'\nPoetic justice, poetic justice\nIf I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?\nI mean, you need to hear this, love is not just a verb\nIt's you lookin' in the mirror, love is not just a verb\nIt's you lookin' for it, maybe, call me crazy, we can both be insane\nA fatal attraction is common, and what we have common is pain\nI mean, you need to hear this, love is not just a verb\nAnd I can see power steerin', sex drive when you swerve\nI want that interference, it's coherent, I can hear it, mhmm\nThat's your heartbeat, it either caught me or it called me, mhmm\nRead slow and you'll find gold mines in these lines\nSincerely, yours truly, and right before you go blind, PS\n\nAnytime\nYou can get it, you can get it, you can get it, you can get it\nAnd I know just, know just, know just, know just, know just what you want\nPoetic justice, put it in a song\n\"I'm gon' ask you one more time, homie\nWhere is you from? Or it is a problem.\"\n\"Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ask him if he heard from Sherane\nAyy, you out here for Sherane, homie?\"\"\n\"I don't care who this nigga over here for\nIf he don't tell me where he from, it's a wrap! I'm sorry.\"\n\"Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, we gon' do it like this, okay?\nI'ma tell you where I'm from, okay?\nYou gon' tell me where you from, okay?\nOr, or, or where your grandma stay\nWhere your mama stay, or where your daddy stay, okay?\"\n\"Fuck all this talkin'.\"\n\"Matter of fact, get out the van, homie! Get out the car 'fore I snatch you out that motherfucker, homie!\""}
{"text":"Damn, love or lust\nDamn, all of us\nGive me a run for my money\nThere is nobody, no one to outrun me\n(Another world premiere)\nSo give me a run for my money\nSippin' bubbly, feelin\u2019 lovely, livin' lovely\nJust love me\nI wanna be with you, ayy, I wanna be with\nJust love me, just love me, just love\nI wanna be with you, ayy, I wanna be with\nLove me\nI wanna be with you\nLove me, just love me\n\nIf I didn't ride blade on curb, would you still love me?\nIf I minimized my net worth, would you still love me?\nKeep it a hundred, I\u2019d rather you trust me than to love me\nKeep it a whole one hund', don't got you, I got nothin' (Uh, uh)\n\nAyy, I got somethin'\nHol' up, we gon' function, ayy, no assumptions, ayy\nFeelin' like Tyson with it\nKnock it out twice, I\u2019m with it\nOnly for the night, I\u2019m kiddin'\nOnly for life, yeah, homie for life, yeah\nOnly for life, let\u2019s get it\nHit that shoulder lean\nI know what comin' over me\nBackstroke oversea\nI know what you need\nAlready on ten, all money come in\nAll feeling go out, this feeling don't drought\nThis party won't end\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nIf I didn\u2019t ride blade on curb, would you still love me?\nIf I minimized my net worth, would you still love me?\nKeep it a hundred, I'd rather you trust me than to love me\nKeep it a whole one hund', don't got you, I got nothin' (Uh, uh)\nGive me a run for my money\nThere is nobody, no one to outrun me\nSo give me a run for my money\nSippin' bubbly, feelin' lovely, livin' lovely\nJust love me\nI wanna be with you, ayy, I wanna be with\nJust love me, just love me, just love\nI wanna be with you, ayy, I wanna be with\nLove me\nI wanna be with you\nLove me, just love me\n\nI'm on the way\nWe ain't got no time to waste\nPoppin' your gum on the way love me\nAm I in the way?\nI don't wan' pressure you none\nI want your blessing today love me\nOh, by the way, open the door by the way\nTold you that I'm on the way love me\nI'm on the way, I know connection is vague\nPick up the phone for me, babe\nDammit, we jammin'\nBad attitude from yo' nanny\nCurves and your hips from yo' mammy\nRemember Gardena, I took the studio Camry\nI know Top will be mad at me\nI had to do it, I want your body, your music\nI bought the big one to prove it\nLook what you made\nTold you that I'm on the way\nI'm like a exit away, yep\nIf I didn't ride blade on curb, would you still love me?\nIf I minimized my net worth, would you still love me?\nKeep it a hundred, I'd rather you trust me than to love me\nKeep it a whole one hund', don't got you, I got nothin' (Uh, uh)\nGive me a run for my money\nThere is nobody, no one to outrun me\nSo give me a run for my money\nSippin' bubbly, feelin' lovely, livin' lovely\nJust love me\nI wanna be with you, ayy, I wanna be with\nJust love me, just love me, just love me\nI wanna be with you, ayy, I wanna be with\nLove me\nI wanna be with you\nLove me, just love me"}
{"text":"\nUh, Martin had a dream\nMartin had a dream\nKendrick have a dream\n\nAll my life I want money and power\nRespect my mind or die from lead shower\nI pray my dick get big as the Eiffel Tower\nSo I can fuck the world for seventy-two hours\n\nGoddamn I feel amazin', damn, I'm in the Matrix\nMy mind is livin' on cloud nine and this 9 is never on vacation\nStart up that Maserati and \u2013 vroom-vroom! \u2013 I'm racin'\nPoppin' pills in the lobby and I pray they don't find her naked\nAnd I pray you niggas is hatin', shooters go after Judas\nJesus Christ, if I live life on my knees ain't no need to do this\nPark it in front of Lueders, next to that Church's Chicken\nAll you pussies is losers, all my niggas is winnin', screamin'\u2014\n\nAll my life I want money and power\nRespect my mind or die from lead shower\nI pray my dick get big as the Eiffel Tower\nSo I can fuck the world for seventy-two hours\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nGoddamn I got bitches (Okay), damn I got bitches (Okay)\nDamn I got bitches: wifey, girlfriend and mistress\nAll my life I want money and power\nRespect my mind or die from lead shower\n\nI've got twenty-five lighters on my dresser, yessir\nPut fire to that ass, body cast on a stretcher\nAnd her body got that ass that a ruler couldn't measure\nAnd it make me cum fast, but I never get embarrassed\nAnd I recognize you have what I've been wantin' since that record\nThat Adina Howard had pop it fast to impress her\nShe rollin', I'm holdin' my scrotum imposin'\nThis voice here is golden, so fuck y'all, I goes in, and\u2014\n\nAll my life I want money and power\nRespect my mind or die from lead shower\nI pray my dick get big as the Eiffel Tower\nSo I can fuck the world for seventy-two hours\n\nGoddamn I got bitches, damn I got bitches\nDamn I got bitches: wifey, girlfriend and mistress\nAll my life I want money and power\nRespect my mind or, nigga, it's go time\nI roll in dough with a good grind\nAnd I run that ho with a baton\nThat's a relay race with a bouquet\nThey say, \"K, you goin' marry mines\"\nBiatch! No way, biatch! No way\nBiatch! No way, biatch! Okay\nI'm never livin' life confined\nIt's a failure even if I'm blind\nI can tell you who, what, when, where\nHow to sell your game right on time\nBiatch! Go play, biatch! Go play\nBiatch! Go play\nBiatch, I look like O. J.\u200b\nKillin' everything from pussy to a mothafuckin' Hit-Boy beat\nShe pussy poppin' and I got options like an audible, I be\nC-O-M-P-T-O-N, I win, then ball at your defeat\nC-O-M-P-T-O-N, my city, mobbin' in the street, yellin'\u2014\n\nAll my life I want money and power\nRespect my mind or die from lead shower\nI pray my dick get big as the Eiffel Tower\nSo I can fuck the world for seventy-two hours\n\nGoddamn I got bitches, damn I got bitches\nDamn I got bitches, wifey, girlfriend and mistress\nAll my life I want money and power\nRespect my mind or die from lead shower\nLet it run, Ali\nMartin had a dream\nMartin had a dream\nKendrick have a dream"}
{"text":"\nAlls my life, I has to fight, nigga\nAlls my life, I\u2014\nHard times like, \"Yah!\"\nBad trips like, \"Yah!\"\nNazareth\nI'm fucked up, homie, you fucked up\nBut if God got us, then we gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nWe gon' be alright\nDo you hear me, do you feel me? We gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nHuh? We gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nDo you hear me, do you feel me? We gon' be alright\nUh, and when I wake up\nI recognize you're looking at me for the pay cut\nBut homicide be looking at you from the face down\nWhat MAC-11 even boom with the bass down?\nSchemin', and let me tell you 'bout my life\nPainkillers only put me in the twilight\nWhere pretty pussy and Benjamin is the highlight\nNow tell my momma I love her, but this what I like, Lord knows\nTwenty of 'em in my Chevy, tell 'em all to come and get me\nReaping everything I sow, so my karma coming heavy\nNo preliminary hearings on my record\nI'm a motherfucking gangster in silence for the record, uh\nTell the world I know it's too late\nBoys and girls, I think I've gone cray\nDrown inside my vices all day\nWon't you please believe when I say\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nWouldn't you know\nWe been hurt, been down before\nNigga, when our pride was low\nLookin' at the world like, \"Where do we go?\"\nNigga, and we hate po-po\nWanna kill us dead in the street fo sho'\nNigga, I'm at the preacher's door\nMy knees gettin' weak, and my gun might blow\nBut we gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nWe gon' be alright\nDo you hear me, do you feel me? We gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nHuh? We gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nDo you hear me, do you feel me? We gon' be alright\nWhat you want you, a house\u2060? You, a car?\nForty acres and a mule? A piano, a guitar?\nAnything, see my name is Lucy, I'm your dog\nMotherfucker, you can live at the mall\nI can see the evil, I can tell it, I know it's illegal\nI don't think about it, I deposit every other zero\nThinking of my partner, put the candy, paint it on the Regal\nDigging in my pocket, ain't a profit big enough to feed you\nEvery day my logic get another dollar just to keep you\nIn the presence of your chico, ah!\nI don't talk about it, be about it, every day I sequel\nIf I got it then you know you got it, Heaven, I can reach you\nPat Dawg, Pat Dawg, Pat Dawg, my dog, that's all\nBick back and Chad, I trap the bag for y'all\nI rap, I black on track so rest assured\nMy rights, my wrongs; I write 'til I'm right with God\nWouldn't you know\nWe been hurt, been down before\nNigga, when our pride was low\nLookin' at the world like, \"Where do we go?\"\nNigga, and we hate po-po\nWanna kill us dead in the street fo sho'\nNigga, I'm at the preacher's door\nMy knees gettin' weak, and my gun might blow\nBut we gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nWe gon' be alright\nDo you hear me, do you feel me? We gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nHuh? We gon' be alright\nNigga, we gon' be alright\nDo you hear me, do you feel me? We gon' be alright\n\nI keep my head up high\nI cross my heart and hope to die\nLovin' me is complicated\nToo afraid of a lot of changes\nI'm alright, and you're a favorite\nDark nights in my prayers\nI remembered you was conflicted\nMisusing your influence, sometimes I did the same\nAbusing my power, full of resentment\nResentment that turned into a deep depression\nFound myself screamin' in the hotel room\nI didn't wanna self-destruct\nThe evils of Lucy was all around me\nSo I went runnin' for answers"}
{"text":"\nWhen the lights shut off and it's my turn\nTo settle down, my main concern\nPromise that you will sing about me\nPromise that you will sing about me\nI said when the lights shut off and it's my turn\nTo settle down, my main concern\nPromise that you will sing about me\nPromise that you will sing about me\nI woke up this morning and figured I'd call you\nIn case I'm not here tomorrow\nI'm hopin' that I can borrow\nA peace of mind, I'm behind on what's really important\nMy mind is really distorted\nI find nothing but trouble in my life\nI'm fortunate you believe in a dream\nThis orphanage we call a ghetto is quite a routine\nAnd last night was just another distraction\nOr a reaction of what we consider madness\nI know exactly what happened\nYou ran outside when you heard my brother cry for help\nHeld him like a newborn baby and made him feel\nLike everything was alright in a fight he tried to put up\nBut the type of bullet that stuck\nHad went against his will, that's blood spilled on your hands\nMy plan's rather vindictive\nEverybody's a victim in my eyes\nWhen I ride it's a murderous rhythm\nAnd outside became pitch black\nA demon glued to my back, whispering \"Get 'em!\"\nI got 'em and I ain't give a fuck\nThat same mentality I told my brother not to duck\nIn actuality it's a trip how we trip off of colors\nI wonder if I'll ever discover a passion like you and recover\nThe life that I knew as a youngin\nIn pajamas and dun-ta-duns\nWhen thunder comes it rains cats and dogs dumb\nNiggas like me never prosper\nPrognosis of a problem child, I'm proud and well-devoted\nThis Piru shit been in me forever\nSo forever I'ma push it, wherever, whenever\nAnd I love you 'cause you love my brother like you did\nJust promise me you'll tell this story when you make it big\nAnd if I die before your album drop, I hope\u2014 \nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nPromise that you will sing about me\nPromise that you will sing about me\nI said when the lights shut off and it's my turn\nTo settle down, my main concern\nPromise that you will sing about me\nPromise that you will sing about me\nYou wrote a song about my sister on your tape\nAnd called it Section.80\nThe message resembled \"Brenda's Got a Baby\"\nWhat's crazy was I was hearin' about it\nBut doubted your ignorance\nHow could you ever just put her on blast and shit?\nJudgin' her past and shit?\nWell, it's completely my future\nHer nigga behind me right now askin' for ass and shit\nAnd I'ma need that forty dollars\nEven if I got to fuck, suck and swallow\nIn the parking lot, Gonzales Park, I'm followed\nBy a married man, and father of three\nMy titties bounce on the cadence of his tinklin' keys\nMatter of fact, he my favorite 'cause he tip me with E's\nHe got a cousin named David and I seen him last week\nThis is the life of another girl damaged by the system\nThese foster homes, I run away and never do miss 'em\nSee, my hormones just run away and if I can get 'em\nBack to where they used to be, then I'll probably be in the denim\nOf a family gene that show women how to be woman\nOr better yet, a leader, you need her to learn somethin'\nThen you probably need to beat her, that's how I was taught\nThree niggas in one room, first time I was tossed\nAnd I'm exhausted, but fuck that \"Sorry for your loss\" shit\nMy sister died in vain, but what point are you tryna gain\nIf you can't fit the pumps I walk in?\nI'll wait\u2026 Your rebuttal a little too late\nAnd if you have a album date, just make sure I'm not in the song\n'Cause I don't need the attention, bring enough of that on my own\nAnd matter fact, did I mention that I physically feel great?\nA doctor's approval is a waste of time, I know I'm straight\nI'll probably live longer than you and never fade away\nI'll never fade away, I'll never fade away, I know my fate\nAnd I'm on the grind for this cake, I'ma get it or die tryin'\nI'm eyein' every male gender with intentions of buyin'\nYou lyin' to these motherfuckers\nTalkin' about you can help 'em with my story\nYou can help me if you sell this pussy for me, nigga\nDon't ignore me, nigga, fuck your glory, nigga, you ain't shit\u2026\nWhen the lights shut off and it's my turn\nTo settle down, my main concern\nPromise that you will sing about me\nPromise that you will sing about me\nI said when the lights shut off and it's my turn\nTo settle down, my main concern\nPromise that you will sing about me\nPromise that you will sing about me\n\nSometimes I look in the mirror\nAnd ask myself: Am I really scared of passin' away?\nIf it's today, I hope I hear a\nCry out from Heaven so loud it can water down a demon\nWith the Holy Ghost 'til it drown in the blood of Jesus\nI wrote some raps that made sure that my lifeline reekin'\nThe scent of a reaper, ensurin' that my allegiance\nWith the other side may come soon, and if I'm doomed\nMay the womb of my mother be blessed for many moons\nI suffer a lot\nAnd every day that glass mirror get tougher to watch\nI tie my stomach in knots\nAnd I'm not sure why I'm infatuated with death\nMy imagination is surely an aggravation of threats\nThat can come about, 'cause the tongue is mighty powerful\nAnd I can name a list of your favorites that probably vouch\nMaybe 'cause I'm a dreamer and sleep is the cousin of death\nReally stuck in the schema of wonderin' when I'ma rest\nAnd you're right, your brother was a brother to me\nAnd your sister's situation was the one that pulled me\nIn a direction to speak on somethin'\nThat's realer than the TV screen\nBy any means, wasn't tryin' to offend or come between\nHer personal life, I was like \"It need to be told\"\nCursin' the life of twenty generations after her soul\nExactly what'd happen if I ain't continue rappin'\nOr steady bein' distracted by money, drugs and 4-5's\nI count lives, all on these songs\nLook at the weak and cry, pray one day you'll be strong\nFightin' for your rights, even when you're wrong\nAnd hope that at least one of you sing about me when I'm gone\nAm I worth it? Did I put enough work in?\nPromise that you will sing about me\nPromise that you will sing about me\nI said when the lights shut off and it's my turn\nTo settle down, my main concern\nPromise that you will sing about me\nPromise that you will sing about me\n\nPromise that you'll sing about me forever\nPromise that you'll sing about me for\u2014 ooooh\nPromise that you'll sing about me forever\nPromise that you'll sing about me for\u2014 ooooh\nPromise that you'll sing about me forever\nPromise that you'll sing about me for\u2014 ooooh\nPromise that you'll sing about me forever\nPromise that you'll sing about me for\u2014 ooooh\n\n(On the phone)\n\"Ay, ay, ay, where you 'bout to go?\"\n\"Nigga, the homie's brother\u2014nigga, right here, he gone, my nigga, he gone!\"\n\"Hey, come to the store for a nigga, one time.\"\n\"We on the block right now, my nigga, like, we\u2014nigga, we right here, my nigga.\"\n\"Bring a nigga back a black!\"\n\"Nigga\u2014bruh\u2014nigga, they just killed the homie's brother, my nigga. We right here on the block, my nigga... Al\u2014alright, nigga\u2014nigga, just come\u2014alright, alright, just call me back, man, just call me back.\"\n\"Bring a nigga back a black!\"\n(*Hangs up*)\n\"Ahh, fuck... So, so, what we gon' do, my niggas? What we gon' do?\"\n\"Bro, we can go back right now, my nigga. Like... nigga, I don't give a fuck, my nigga. We can go back right now.\"\n\"Fuck! I'm tired of this shit! I'm tired of fuckin' runnin', I'm tired of this shit! My brother, homie!\"\n\nTired of runnin', tired of huntin'\nMy own kind, but retirin' nothin'\nTires are steady screechin', the driver is rubbin'\nHands on the wheel, who said we wasn't\nDyin' of thirst, dyin' of thirst, dyin' of thirst?\n\nDope on the corner, look at the coroner\nDaughter is dead, mother is mournin' her\nStray bullets, AK bullets\nResuscitation was waitin' patiently, but they couldn't\nBring her back, who got the footage?\nChannel 9, cameras is lookin'\nIt's hard to channel your energy when you know he crooked\nBanana clip, split his banana pudding\nI'm like Tre, that's Cuba Gooding\nI know I'm good at\nDyin' of thirst, dyin' of thirst, dyin' of thirst\n\nHow many sins? I'm runnin' out\nHow many sins? I lost count\nDreams of ballin' like Spalding\nBut only shotty bounce\nThe reaper callin', I'm cottonmouth\nMoney is power (Money is power)\nYours is ours (Yours is ours)\nLay with a snitch, die with a coward\nHope we get rich, hope we can tower\nOver the city with vanity with the music louder\nThe same song, a black flower\nI'll show you how to\nDye your thirst, dye your thirst, dye your thirst\n\nWhat are we doin'? Who are we foolin'?\nHell is hot, fire is proven\nTo burn for eternity, return of the student\nThat never learned how to live righteous but how to shoot it\nTired of runnin', choirs is hummin'\nTell us to visit, we lie about comin'\nNow back to business, loadin' the guns in\nBack of the Buick, your hood is feudin'\nThe beef is bubblin', it's no discussion\nHereditary, all of my cousins\nDyin' of thirst, dyin' of thirst, dyin' of thirst\n\nToo many sins, I'm runnin' out\nSomebody send me a well for the drought\nSee all I know is takin' notes\nOn takin' this life for granted, granted, if he provoke\nMy best days, I stress days\n(Lord, forgive me for all my sins, for I not know\u2014)\nMy best days, I stress days\nSay \"fuck the world,\" my sex slave\nMoney, pussy, and greed\u2014what's my next crave?\nWhatever it is, know it's my next grave\nTired of runnin', tired of runnin', tired of tumblin'\nTired of runnin', tired of tumblin', backwards\nMy momma say \"See, a pastor give me a promise\nWhat if today was the rapture and you completely tarnished?\nThe truth will set you free, so to me be completely honest\nYou dyin' of thirst, you dyin' of thirst\nSo hop in that water, and pray that it works\"\nFuck! I'm tired of this shit!\nI'm tired of fuckin' runnin', I'm tired of this shit!\nThat\u2019s my brother, homie!\nYoung man, come talk to me! Is that what I think that is?\nI know that's not what I think that is\nWhy are you so angry?\nSee, you young men are dying of thirst\nDo you know what that means?\nThat means you need water, holy water\nYou need to be baptized, with the spirit of the Lord\nDo you want to receive God as your personal savior?\nOkay, repeat after me:\n\"Lord God, I come to You a sinner\"\n(Lord God, I come to You a sinner)\n\"And I humbly repent for my sins\"\n(And I humbly repent for my sins)\n\"I believe that Jesus is Lord\"\n(I believe that Jesus is Lord)\n\"I believe You raised Him from the dead\"\n(I believe You raised Him from the dead)\n\"I would ask that Jesus come into my life\"\n(I would ask that Jesus come in my life)\n\"And be my Lord and Savior\"\n(And be my Lord and Savior)\n\"I receive Jesus to take control of my life\"\n(I receive Jesus to take control of my life)\n\"And that I may live for Him from this day forward\"\n(And that I may live for Him from this day forward)\n\"Thank you, Lord Jesus\nFor saving me with Your precious blood\"\n(Thank you, Lord Jesus\nFor saving me with Your precious blood)\n\"In Jesus' name, amen\"\n(In Jesus' name, amen)\nAlright now, remember this day\nThe start of a new life, your REAL life"}
{"text":"Everything black, I don't want black (They want us to bow)\nI want everything black, I ain't need black (Down to our knees)\nSome white, some Black, I ain't mean black (And pray to the God)\nI want everything black (We don't believe)\nEverything black, want all things black\nI don't need black, want everything black\nDon't need black, our eyes ain't black\nI own black, own everything black\n\nSix in the morn'\nFire in the street\nBurn, baby, burn (You, you, you, you, you)\nThat's all I wanna see (You, you, you, you, you)\nAnd sometimes I get off watchin' you die in vain\nIt's such a shame, they may call me crazy\nThey may say I suffer from schizophrenia or somethin'\nBut homie, you made me (You, you, you, you, you)\nBlack don't crack, my nigga\nI'm the biggest hypocrite of 2015\nOnce I finish this, witnesses will convey just what I mean\nBeen feelin' this way since I was sixteen, came to my senses\nYou never liked us anyway, fuck your friendship, I meant it\nI'm African-American, I'm African, I'm black as the moon\nHeritage of a small village, pardon my residence\nCame from the bottom of mankind\nMy hair is nappy, my dick is big, my nose is round and wide\nYou hate me, don't you?\nYou hate my people, your plan is to terminate my culture\nYou're fuckin' evil\nI want you to recognize that I'm a proud monkey\nYou vandalize my perception but can't take style from me\nAnd this is more than confession\nI mean I might press the button just so you know my discretion\nI'm guardin' my feelings, I know that you feel it\nYou sabotage my community, makin' a killin'\nYou made me a killer, emancipation of a real nigga\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nThe blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice\nThe blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice\nThe blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice\nThe blacker the berry, the bigger I shoot\nI said they treat me like a slave cah me Black\nWoi, we feel a whole heap of pain cah we Black\nAnd man a say they put me inna chains cah we Black\nImagine now, big gold chains full of rocks\nHow you no see the whip, left scars 'pon me back\nBut now we have a big whip parked 'pon the block\nAll them say we doomed from the start cah we Black\nRemember this, every race start from the block, jus 'member dat\n\nI'm the biggest hypocrite of 2015\nOnce I finish this, witnesses will convey just what I mean\nI mean, it's evident that I'm irrelevant to society\nThat's what you're tellin' me, penitentiary would only hire me\nCurse me 'til I'm dead, church me with your fake prophesizing\nThat I'ma be just another slave in my head\nInstitutionalized manipulation and lies\nReciprocation of freedom only live in your eyes\nYou hate me, don't you?\nI know you hate me just as much as you hate yourself\nJealous of my wisdom and cards I dealt\nWatchin' me as I pull up, fill up my tank, then peel out\nMuscle cars like pull-ups, show you what these big wheels 'bout, ah\nBlack and successful, this black man meant to be special\nKatzkins on my radar, bitch, how can I help you?\nHow can I tell you I'm making a killin'?\nYou made me a killer, emancipation of a real nigga\nThe blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice\nThe blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice\nThe blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice\nThe blacker the berry, the bigger I shoot\nI said they treat me like a slave cah me Black\nWoi, we feel a whole heap of pain cah we Black\nAnd man a say they put me inna chains cah we Black\nImagine now, big gold chains full of rocks\nHow you no see the whip, left scars 'pon me back\nBut now we have a big whip parked 'pon the block\nAll them say we doomed from the start cah we Black\nRemember this, every race start from the block, jus 'member dat\n\nI'm the biggest hypocrite of 2015\nWhen I finish this, if you listen, then sure you will agree\nThis plot is bigger than me, it's generational hatred\nIt's genocism, it's grimy, little justification\nI'm African-American, I'm African\nI'm Black as the heart of a fuckin' Aryan\nI'm Black as the name of Tyrone and Darius, excuse my French\nBut fuck you \u2014 no, fuck y'all, that's as blunt as it gets\nI know you hate me, don't you?\nYou hate my people, I can tell 'cause it's threats when I see you\nI can tell 'cause your ways deceitful\nKnow I can tell because you in love with that Desert Eagle\nThinkin' maliciously, he get a chain then you gon' bleed him\nIt's funny how Zulu and Xhosa might go to war\nTwo tribal armies that wanna build and destroy\nRemind me of these Compton Crip gangs that live next door\nBeefin' with Pirus, only death settle the score\nSo don't matter how much I say I like to preach with the Panthers\nOr tell Georgia State \"Marcus Garvey got all the answers\"\nOr try to celebrate February like it's my B-Day\nOr eat watermelon, chicken, and Kool-Aid on weekdays\nOr jump high enough to get Michael Jordan endorsements\nOr watch BET 'cause urban support is important\nSo why did I weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street\nWhen gang-banging make me kill a nigga blacker than me?\nHypocrite!\n1.6KEmbed"}
{"text":"New Kung Fu Kenny\nAin't nobody prayin' for me\nY'all know, what happens on Earth stays on Earth\nHere we go!\nI don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck\nI don't give a, I don't give a, I don't give a fuck\n\nI'm willin' to die for this shit\nI done cried for this shit, might take a life for this shit\nPut the Bible down and go eye for an eye for this shit\nD-O-T my enemy, won't catch a vibe for this shit, ayy\nI been stomped out in front of my mama\nMy daddy commissary made it to commas\nBitch, all my grandmas dead\nSo ain't nobody prayin' for me, I'm on your head, ayy\nThirty millions later, know the feds watchin'\nAuntie on my Telegram like, \"Be cautious!\"\nI be hangin' out at Tam's, I be on Stockton\nI don't do it for the 'Gram, I do it for Compton\nI'm willin' to die for this shit, nigga\nI'll take your fuckin' life for this shit, nigga\nWe ain't goin' back to broke, family sellin' dope\nThat's why you maney-ass rap niggas better know\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nIf I gotta slap a pussy-ass nigga, I'ma make it look sexy\nIf I gotta go hard on a bitch, I'ma make it look sexy\nI pull up, hop out, air out, made it look sexy\nThey won't take me out my element\nNah, take me out my element\n\nI'm allergic to a bitch nigga, ayy\nAn imaginary rich nigga, ayy\nSeven figures ho, that's slimmer than my bitch figure, ayy\nGoin' digital and physical on all y'all, ayy\nBunch of criminals and money in my phone calls, ayy\nWe okay, we let the A1 fly\nRelocate, jump on the same G5\nCheckin' for me heavy 'cause I go, yeah, I go, yeah\nThey never been ready, yeah, I know, yeah, know, yeah\n100K spread across the floor, 'cross the floor, yeah\nNone of y'all fuckin' with the flow, yeah, the flow, yeah\nYears in the makin', and don't y'all mistake it\nI got 'em by a landslide, we talkin' about races\nYou know this'll never be a tie, just look at they laces\nYou know careers take off, just gotta be patient\nMr. One through Five, that's the only logic\nFake my death, go to Cuba, that's the only option\nIf I gotta slap a pussy-ass nigga, I'ma make it look sexy\nIf I gotta go hard on a bitch, I'ma make it look sexy\nI pull up, hop out, air out, made it look sexy\nThey won't take me out my element\nNah, take me out my element\n\nDamned if I do, if I don't (Yuh)\nGoddamn us all if you won't (Yuh)\nDamn, damn, damn, it's a goddamn shame\nYou ain't front in line, get out the goddamn way\n\nNiggas thought they wasn't gonna see me, huh?\nNiggas thought that K-Dot real life\nWas the same life they see on TV, huh?\nNiggas wanna flex on me and be in L.A. for free, huh?\nNext time they hit the 10 freeway, we need a receipt, huh?\n'Cause most of y'all ain't real, most of y'all gon' squeal\nMost of y'all just envy, but jealousy get you killed\nMost of y'all throw rocks and try to hide your hand\nJust say his name and I promise that you'll see Candyman\nBecause it's all in your eyes, most of y'all tell lies\nMost of y'all don't fade, most of y'all been advised\nLast LP I tried to lift the black artists\nBut it's a difference 'tween black artists and wack artists\nIf I gotta slap a pussy-ass nigga, I'ma make it look sexy\nIt's the one and only, the world's greatest, the Kid Capri\nIf I gotta go hard on a bitch, I'ma make it look sexy\nI pull up, hop out, air out, made it look sexy\nThey won't take me out my element\nNah, take me out my element"}
{"text":"\nI said I'm geeked and I\u2019m fired up (Fired, fire)\nAll I want tonight is just get high (High, high, high)\nGirl, you look so good, it's to die for (Die for, fire)\nOoh, that pussy good, it's to die for (I\u2019m on fire)\n\nIt's a secret society\nAll we ask is trust (All we ask is trust)\nAll we got is us\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\n\nKung Fu Kenny now\nMy resume is real enough for two millennium\nA better way to make a wave, stop defendin' them\nI meditate and moderate all of my wins again\nI'm hangin' on the fence again\nI'm always on your mind\nI put my lyric and my lifeline on the line\nAnd ain't no limit when I might shine, might grind\nYou rollin' with it at the right time, right now\n(Only for the dollar sign)\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nBad girl RiRi now\nSwerve, swerve, swerve, swerve, leave it now\nOn your pulse like it\u2019s EDM\nGas in the bitch like it\u2019s premium\nHaul ass on a bitch all in the fast lane\nBeen a bad bitch way before any cash came\nI'm established, hundred carats on my name\nRun the atlas, I\u2019m a natural, I'm alright\n\nI'm a savage, I'm a asshole, I\u2019m a king\nShimmy ya, shimmy ya, shimmy ya rah (Yeah)\nYou can tell your nigga he can meet me outside (Yeah)\nYou can babysit him when I leave him outside\nAin't no other love like the one I know\nI done been down so long lost hope\nI done came down so hard I slowed\nHonestly forever, all a real nigga want\n\nI said I'm geeked and I'm fired up (Fired, fire)\nAll I want tonight is just to get high up (Yeah)\nAll I want is, all I want is\n\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\n10-4, no switchin' sides\nFeel somethin' wrong\nYou actin' shifty, you don't vibe\nWith me no more, I need\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\nTell me who you loyal to\nIs it money? Is it fame? Is it weed? Is it drink?\nIs it comin' down with the loud pipes in the rain?\nBig chillin', only for the power in your name\nTell me who you loyal to\nIs it love for the streets when the lights get dark?\nIs it unconditional when the 'Rari don't start?\nTell me when your loyalty is comin' from the heart\n\nTell me who you loyal to\nDo it start with your woman or your man? (Mmm)\nDo it end with your family and friends? (Mmm)\nAre you loyal to yourself in advance?\nI said, tell me who you loyal to\nIs it anybody that you would lie for?\nAnybody you would slide for?\nAnybody you would die for?\nThat's what God for\n\nI said I'm geeked and I'm fired up (Fired, fire)\nAll I want tonight is just to get high up (Yeah)\nAll I want is, all I want is\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\n10-4, no switchin' sides\nFeel somethin' wrong\nYou actin' shifty, you don't vibe\nWith me no more, I need\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\nLoyalty, loyalty, loyalty\n\nIt's so hard to be humble\nIt's so hard to be\nLord knows I'm tryin'\nLord knows I'm dyin', baby"}
{"text":"\nIs this mic on? (Hey, move this way, this way)\nHey, Hey! Hey! Turn the mic up, c'mon, c'mon\nIs the mic on or not? I want the mic\nWe're bringing up nobody, nobody\nNobody but the number one rapper in the world\nHe done traveled all over the world\nHe came back just to give you some game\nAll of the little boys and girls, come up here\n(Ah, one two, one two, what's happening, fool?)\nCome right here, this is for you, come on up\nI done been through a whole lot (Kendrick Lamar!)\nTrial, tribulation, but I know God\nThe Devil wanna put me in a bow tie (Make some noise, brother!)\nPray that the holy water don't go dry\nAs I look around me\nSo many motherfuckers wanna down me\nBut enemigo never drown me\nIn front of a dirty double-mirror they found me\nAnd (I love myself)\nHuh, when you lookin' at me, tell me what do you see?\n(I love myself)\nAhh, I put a bullet in the back of the back of the head of the police\n(I love myself)\nUh, illuminated by the hand of God, boy, don't seem shy\n(I love myself)\nOne day at a time, huh\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nThey wanna say it's a war outside, bomb in the street\nGun in the hood, mob of police\nRock on the corner with a line for the fiend\nAnd a bottle full of lean and a model on the scheme, uh\nThese days of frustration keep y'all on tuck and rotation (Come to the front, yeah)\nI duck these cold faces, post up fi-fie-fo-fum basis\nDreams of reality's peace (Oh, yeah)\nBlow steam in the face of the beast\nSky could fall down, wind could cry now\nLook at me motherfucker I smile-\nAnd (I love myself)\nUh, and when you lookin' at me, tell me what do you see?\n(I love myself)\nAhh, I put a bullet in the back of the back of the head of the police\n(I love myself)\nIlluminated\u2014\nAll ya'll come to the front, ya'll come up to the front\n(I love myself)\nBaby, what about you? Come on\n\n(Crazy, what you gon' do?)\nLift up your head and keep moving, (Keep moving) turn the mic up\n(Haunt you)\nPeace to fashion police, I wear my heart\nOn my sleeve, let the runway start\nYou know the miserable do love company\nWhat do you want from me and my scars?\nEverybody lack confidence, everybody lack confidence\nHow many times my potential was anonymous?\nHow many times the city making me promises?\nSo I promise this, nigga\n(I love myself)\nUh, and when you lookin' at me, tell me what do you see?\n(I love myself)\nAhh, I put a bullet in the back of the back of the head of the police\n(I love myself)\nHuh, illuminated by the hand of God, boy don't seem shy\n(I love myself)\nHuh (Walk my bare feet) Huh (Walk my bare feet)\nHuh (Down, down valley deep) Huh (Down, down valley deep)\n(I love myself) Huh (Fi-fie-fo-fum) Huh (Fi-fie-fo-fum)\n(I love myself) Huh (My heart undone) one, two, three\n\nI went to war last night\nWith an automatic weapon, don't nobody call a medic\nI'ma do it 'til I get it right (Oh no)\nI went to war last night (Night, night, night, night)\nI've been dealing with depression ever since an adolescent\nDuckin' every other blessin', I can never see the message\nI could never take the lead, I could never bob and weave\nFrom a negative and letting them annihilate me\nAnd it's evident I'm moving at a meteor speed\nFinna run into a building, lay my body\u2014\n(Offstage Argument)\nNot on my, not while I'm up here\nNot on my time, kill the music, not on my time\nWe could save that shit for the streets\nWe could save that shit, this for the kids, bro\n2015, niggas tired of playin' victim, dog\nNiggas ain't trying to play vic\u2014 TuTu, how many niggas we done lost?\nHow many\u2014 Yan-Yan, how many we done lost?\nNo for real, answer the que\u2014, how many niggas we done lost bro?\nThis\u2014, this year alone\nExactly, so we\u2014 we ain't got time to waste time, my nigga\nNiggas gotta make time, bro\nThe judge make time, you know that, the judge make time, right?\nThe judge make time so it ain\u2019t shit\nIt shouldn\u2019t be shit for us to come out here and appreciate the little bit of life we got left, dog\nOn the dead homies, Charlie P, you know that, bro\nYou know that\nIt's\u2014 it's mando, right, it's mando\nAnd I s\u2014 I\u2014 And I\u2014 And I say this because I love you niggas, man\nI love all my niggas, bro\nExac\u2014 enough said, enough said\nAnd we gon' get back to the show and move on, because that shit petty, my nigga\nMic check, mic check, mic check, mic check, mic check\nWe gon' do some acapella shit before we get back to-\nAll my niggas listen, listen to this:\n\nI promised Dave I'd never use the phrase \"fuck nigga\"\nHe said, \"Think about what you saying: \"Fuck niggas\"\nNo better than Samuel on the Django\nNo better than a white man with slave boats\"\nSound like I needed some soul searching\nMy Pops gave me some game in real person\nRetraced my steps on what they never taught me\nDid my homework fast before government caught me\nSo I'ma dedicate this one verse to Oprah\nOn how the infamous, sensitive N-word control us\nSo many artists gave her an explanation to hold us\nWell, this is my explanation straight from Ethiopia\nN-E-G-U-S definition: royalty; king royalty - wait listen\nN-E-G-U-S description: black emperor, king, ruler, now let me finish\nThe history books overlook the word and hide it\nAmerica tried to make it to a house divided\nThe homies don't recognize we been using it wrong\nSo I'ma break it down and put my game in a song\nN-E-G-U-S, say it with me, or say it no more\nBlack stars can come and get me\nTake it from Oprah Winfrey, tell her she right on time\nKendrick Lamar, by far, realest Negus alive1.3KEmbed"}
{"text":"Uh-uh, fuck that\n\nEight doobies to the face, fuck that\nTwelve bottles in the case, nigga, fuck that\nTwo pills and a half-weight, nigga, fuck that\nGot a high tolerance when your age don't exist\n\nMan, I swear my nigga trippin' off that shit again\nPick him up, then I set him in cold water\nThen I order someone to bring him Vicodin\nHope that take the pain away\nFrom the feelin' that he feel today\nYou know when you part of Section.80\nYou feel like no one can relate\n'Cause you are, you are, a loner, loner\nMarijuana endorphins make you stronger, stronger\nI'm in the house party trippin' off\nMy generation sippin' cough syrup like it's water\nNever no pancakes in the kitchen\nMan, not one of our lives is caught up\nIn the daily superstition that the world is 'bout to end\nWho gives a fuck? We never do listen\n'Less it comes with an 808 (A melody and some hoes)\nPlayStation and some drank (Technology bought my soul)\nLookin' around and all I see is a big crowd that's product of me\nAnd they probably relatives relevant for a rebel's dream\nYep, her president is Black, she Black too\nPurple Label on her back, but that tab is light blue\nShe take it straight to the head, then she look at me\nShe got ADHD\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nEight doobies to the face, fuck that\nTwelve bottles in the case, nigga, fuck that\nTwo pills and a half-weight, nigga, fuck that\nGot a high tolerance when your age don't exist\n\nLike woah-woah, woah, woah-woah, woah (Don't got a limit, just give me some more with it)\nWoah-woah, woah, woah-woah, woah (Don't got a limit, just give me some more with it)\n(They always told me ADHD did it)\nWoah, woah-woah\n\nAnd then she started\nAnd then she started feelin' herself like no one else in this apartment\n\"Beg your pardon? Oh, I rap, baby, how old are you?\"\nShe say twenty-two, I say twenty-three, \"Okay, then we are crack babies,\" damn\n\"Why you say that?\" She said, \"Where my drink at?\"\n\"I'ma tell you later, just tell your neighbors and the police relax\"\nI stood up, shut the blind, closed the screen, Jumbotron\nMade to the back where she reside, then she said, \"Read between the lines,\" yep\nHope that I get close enough when the lights turn down\nAnd the fact that she just might open up when the Nuvo start to drown\nHer body, and I know the both of us really deep in the mood now\nIt's nothin' we can do now, somebody walked in with a pound (Woah)\nOf that Bay Area kush, she looked at me, then looked\nAt it, then she grabbed it, then she said, \"Get it understood\"\n\"You know why we crack babies? Because we born in the '80s\nThe ADHD crazy\"\nEight doobies to the face, fuck that\nTwelve bottles in the case, nigga, fuck that\nTwo pills and a half-weight, nigga, fuck that\nGot a high tolerance when your age don't exist\n\nLike woah-woah, woah, woah-woah, woah (Don't got a limit, just give me some more with it)\nWoah-woah, woah, woah-woah, woah (Don't got a limit, just give me some more with it)\n(They always told me ADHD did it)\nWoah, woah-woah\n\nYou can have all my shine, I'll give you the light\nDouble cup, deuce, four, six, just mix it in Sprite\nEcstasy, 'shrooms, blow, 'dro, hoes, whatever you like\nYou can have all my shine, I'll give you the light"}
{"text":"Poverty's paradise\nI don\u2019t think I could find a way to make it on this earth\n(I've been hungry all my life)\n\nWhat's up, family?\nYeah, it\u2019s your cousin Carl, man, just givin' you a call, man\nI know you been havin' a lot on yo' mind lately\nAnd I know you feel like, you know\nPeople ain't been prayin' for you\nBut you have to understand this, man, that we are a cursed people Deuteronomy 28:28 says, \"The Lord shall smite thee with madness And blindness, and astonishment of heart\"\nSee, family, that's why you feel like you feel\nLike you got a chip on your shoulder\nUntil you follow His commandments, you gonna feel that way...\n\nWhy God, why God do I gotta suffer?\nPain in my heart carry burdens full of struggle\nWhy God, why God do I gotta bleed?\nEvery stone thrown at you restin' at my feet\nWhy God, why God do I gotta suffer?\nEarth is no more, won\u2019t you burn this muh\u2019fucka?\nI don't think I could find a way to make it on this earth\nAkcuf\u2019hum siht nrub uoy t'now ,erom on si htraE\nReffus attog I od doG yhw ,doG yhW\nTeef ym ta 'nitser uoy ta nworht enots yrevE\nDeelb attog I od doG yhw ,doG yhW\nElggurts fo lluf snedrub yrrac traeh ym ni niaP\nReffus attog I od doG yhw ,doG yhW\nTeef ym ta 'nitser uoy ta nworht enots yrevE\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nI beat yo\u2019 ass, keep talkin' back\nI beat yo' ass, who bought you that?\nYou stole it, I beat yo' ass if you say that game is broken\nI beat yo' ass if you jump on my couch\nI beat yo' ass if you walk in this house\nWith tears in your eyes, runnin' from Poo Poo and Prentice\nGo back outside, I beat yo' ass, lil' nigga\nThat homework better be finished, I beat yo' ass\nYour teachers better not be bitchin' 'bout you in class\nThat pizza better not be wasted, you eat it all\nThat TV better not be loud if you got it on\nThem Jordans better not get dirty when I just bought 'em\nBetter not hear 'bout you humpin' on Keisha's daughter\nBetter not hear you got caught up\nI beat yo' ass, you better not run to your father\nI beat yo' ass, you know my patience runnin' thin\nI got buku payments to make\nCounty building's on my ass, tryna take my food stamps away\nI beat yo' ass if you tell them social workers he live here\nI beat yo' ass if I beat yo' ass twice and you still here\nSeven years old, think you run this house by yourself?\nNigga, you gon' fear me if you don't fear no one else\n\nIf I could smoke fear away, I'd roll that mothafucker up\nAnd then I'd take two puffs\nI'm high now (Huh), I'm high now (Huh)\nI'm high now (Huh), I'm high now (Huh)\nLife's a bitch, pull them panties to the side now\n(Pull them panties to the side now)\nI don't think I could find a way to make it on this earth\nI'll prolly die anonymous, I'll prolly die with promises\nI'll prolly die walkin' back home from the candy house\nI'll prolly die because these colors are standin' out\nI'll prolly die because I ain't know Demarcus was snitchin'\nI'll prolly die at these house parties, fuckin' with bitches\nI'll prolly die from witnesses leavin' me falsed accused\nI'll prolly die from thinkin' that me and your hood was cool\nOr maybe die from pressin' the line, actin' too extra\nOr maybe die because these smokers are more than desperate\nI'll prolly die from one of these bats and blue badges\nBody-slammed on black and white paint, my bones snappin'\nOr maybe die from panic or die from bein' too lax\nOr die from waitin' on it, die 'cause I'm movin' too fast\nI'll prolly die tryna buy weed at the apartments\nI'll prolly die tryna defuse two homies arguin'\nI'll prolly die 'cause that's what you do when you're 17\nAll worries in a hurry, I wish I controlled things\n\nIf I could smoke fear away, I'd roll that mothafucker up\nAnd then I'd take two puffs\n(I've been hungry all my life)\nI'm high now (Huh), I'm high now (Huh)\nI'm high now (Huh), I'm high now (Huh)\nLife's a bitch, pull them panties to the side now\n(Pull them panties to the side now)\nNow\nWhen I was 27, I grew accustomed to more fear\nAccumulated 10 times over throughout the years\nMy newfound life made all of me magnified\nHow many accolades do I need to block denial?\nThe shock value of my success put bolts in me\nAll this money, is God playin' a joke on me?\nIs it for the moment, and will he see me as Job?\nTake it from me and leave me worse than I was before?\nAt 27, my biggest fear was losin' it all\nScared to spend money, had me sleepin' from hall to hall\nScared to go back to Section 8 with my mama stressin'\n30 shows a month and I still won't buy me no Lexus\nWhat is an advisor? Somebody that's holdin' my checks\nJust to fuck me over and put my finances in debt?\nI read a case about Rihanna's accountant and wondered\nHow did the Bad Girl feel when she looked at them numbers?\nThe type of shit'll make me flip out and just kill somethin'\nDrill somethin', get ill and fill ratchets with a lil' somethin'\nI practiced runnin' from fear, guess I had some good luck\nAt 27 years old, my biggest fear was bein' judged\nHow they look at me reflect on myself, my family, my city\nWhat they say 'bout me reveal if my reputation would miss me\nWhat they see from me would trickle down generations in time\nWhat they hear from me would make 'em highlight my simplest lines\n\nI'm talkin' fear, fear of losin' creativity\nI'm talkin' fear, fear of missin' out on you and me\nI'm talkin' fear, fear of losin' loyalty from pride\n'Cause my DNA won't let me involve in the light of God\nI'm talkin' fear, fear that my humbleness is gone\nI'm talkin' fear, fear that love ain't livin' here no more\nI'm talkin' fear, fear that it's wickedness or weakness\nFear, whatever it is, both is distinctive\nFear, what happens on Earth stays on Earth\nAnd I can't take these feelings with me, so hopefully, they disperse\nWithin fourteen tracks, carried out over wax\nSearchin' for resolutions until somebody get back\nFear, what happens on Earth stays on Earth\nAnd I can't take these feelings with me, so hopefully they disperse\nWithin fourteen tracks, carried out over wax\nWonderin' if I'm livin' through fear or livin' through rap\nDamn\n\nGod damn you, God damn me\nGod damn us, God damn we\nGod damn us all\n\nVerse 2 says, \"You only have I known of all the families of the Earth, therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities\"\nSo until we come back to these commandments\nUntil you come back to these commandments\nWe gonna feel this way, we gonna be under this curse\nBecause He said He's gonna punish us\nThe so-called Blacks, Hispanics, and Native American Indians\nAre the true children of Israel\nWe are the Israelites, according to the Bible\nThe children of Israel\nHe's gonna punish us for our iniquities, for our disobedience\nBecause we chose to follow other gods\nThat man chastens his son, so the Lord, thy God, chasten thee\nSo, just like you chasten your own son, He's gonna chasten you\nBecause He loves you, so that's why we get chastised\nThat's why we're in the position that we're in\nUntil we come back to these laws, statutes, and commandments\nAnd do what the Lord says, these curses is gonna be upon us\nWe gonna be at a lower state in this life that we live\nHere, in today, in the United States of America\nI love you, family, and I pray for you\nGod bless you\nShalom"}
{"text":"\nEvery nigga is a star, ayy, every nigga is a star\nEvery nigga is a star, ayy, every nigga is a star\nEvery nigga is a star, ayy\nWho will deny that you and I and every nigga is a star?\nHit me!\nWhen the four corners of this cocoon collide\nYou'll slip through the cracks hopin' that you\u2019ll survive\nGather your wit, take a deep look inside\nAre you really who they idolize?\nTo Pimp a Butterfly\n\nAt first, I did love you\nBut now I just wanna fuck\nLate nights thinkin' of you\nUntil I get my nut\nTossed and turned, lesson learned\nYou was my first girlfriend\nBridges burned, all across the board\nDestroyed, but what for?\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nWhen I get signed, homie, I'ma act a fool\nHit the dance floor, strobe lights in the room\nSnatch your little secretary bitch for the homies\nBlue-eyed devil with a fat-ass monkey\nI'ma buy a brand new Caddy on vogues\nTrunk the hood up, two times, deuce-four\nPlatinum on everythin', platinum on weddin' ring\nMarried to the game and a bad bitch chose\nWhen I get signed, homie, I'ma buy a strap\nStraight from the CIA, set it on my lap\nTake a few M-16s to the hood\nPass 'em all out on the block, what's good?\nI'ma put the Compton swap meet by the White House\nRepublican run up, get socked out\nHit the press with a Cuban link on my neck\nUneducated, but I got a million-dollar check like that\nWe should never gave\nWe should never gave niggas money\nGo back home, money, go back home\nWe should never gave\nWe should never gave niggas money\nGo back home, money, go back home\n(Everybody get out)\nAt first, I did love you (Love you)\nBut now I just wanna fuck (I just wanna fuck)\nLate nights thinkin' of you (Of you)\nUntil I get my nut ('Til I get my nut)\nTossed and turned, lesson learned\nYou was my first girlfriend\nBridges burned, all across the board (Across the board)\nDestroyed, but what for?\nYo, what's up? It's Dre\nRemember the first time you came out to the house?\nYou said you wanted a spot like mine\nBut remember, anybody can get it\nThe hard part is keepin' it, motherfucker\nWhat you want you? A house or a car?\nForty acres and a mule, a piano, a guitar?\nAnythin', see, my name is Uncle Sam, I'm your dog\nMotherfucker, you can live at the mall\nI know your kind (That's why I'm kind)\nDon't have receipts (Oh, man, that's fine)\nPay me later, wear those gators\nClich\u00e9? Then say, \"Fuck your haters\"\nI can see the baller in you, I can see the dollar in you\nLittle white lies, but it's no white-collar in you\nBut it's whatever though because I'm still followin' you\nBecause you make me live forever, baby\nCount it all together, baby\nThen hit the register and make me feel better, baby\nYour horoscope is a Gemini, two sides\nSo you better cop everything two times\nTwo coupes, two chains, two C-notes\nToo much ain't enough, both we know\nChristmas, tell 'em what's on your wish list\nGet it all, you deserve it, Kendrick\nAnd when you hit the White House, do you\nBut remember, you ain't pass economics in school\nAnd everything you buy, taxes will deny\nI'll Wesley Snipe your ass before thirty-five\nYeah, lookin' down, it's quite a drop (It's quite a drop, drop, drop)\nLookin' good when you're on top (We\u2019re on top together)\nYou got a medal for us\nLeavin' metaphors metaphysically in a state of euphoria\nLook both ways before you cross my mind\n\nWe should never gave\nWe should never gave niggas money\nGo back home, money, go back home\nWe should never gave\nWe should never gave niggas money\nGo back home, money, go back home\n\nTax man comin', tax man comin'\nTax man comin', tax man comin'\nTax man comin', tax man comin'\nTax man comin', tax man comin'"}
{"text":"Oh, oh, woah\nUh, yeah\nUh, yeah\nUh\nYeah, uh\n\nThe ghost of Mandela, hope my flows stay propellin'\nLet these words be your Earth and moon, you consume every message\nAs I lead this army, make room for mistakes and depression\nAnd with that being said, my nigga, let me ask this question:\n\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nWhen shit hit the fan\u2014\n(One two, one two, one two)\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\n\nThe ghost of Mandela, hope my flows stay propellin'\nLet these words be your Earth and moon, you consume every message\nAs I lead this army, make room for mistakes and depression\nAnd with that being said, my nigga, let me ask this question:\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nWon't you look to your left and right? Make sure you ask your friends\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\n\nDo you believe in me? Are you deceiving me?\nCould I let you down easily, is your heart where it need to be?\nIs your smile on permanent? Is your vow on lifetime?\nWould you know where the sermon is if I died in this next line?\nIf I'm tried in a court of law, if the industry cut me off\nIf the government want me dead, plant cocaine in my car\nWould you judge me a drug-head or see me as K. Lamar?\nOr question my character and degrade me on every blog?\nWant you to love me like Nelson, want you to hug me like Nelson\nI freed you from being a slave in your mind, you're very welcome\nYou tell me my song is more than a song, it's surely a blessing\nBut a prophet ain't a prophet 'til they ask you this question:\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nWon't you look to your left and right? Make sure you ask your friends\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nThe ghost of Mandela, hope my flows stay propellin'\nLet my words be your Earth and moon, you consume every message\nAs I lead this army, make room for mistakes and depression\nAnd with that\u2014\n\nDo you believe in me? How much you believe in her?\nYou think she gon' stick around if them 25 years occur?\nYou think he can hold you down when you down behind bars, hurt?\nYou think y'all on common ground if you promise to be the first? Can you be immortalized without your life being expired?\nEven though you share the same blood, is it worth the time?\nLike, who got your best interest?\nLike, how much are you dependent?\nHow clutch are the people that say they love you?\nAnd who pretending?\nHow tough is your skin when they turn you in?\nDo you show forgiveness?\nWhat brush do you bend when dusting your shoulders from being offended?\nWhat kind of den did they put you in when the lions start hissing?\nWhat kind of bridge did they burn?\nRevenge on your mind when it's mentioned\nYou wanna love like Nelson, you wanna be like Nelson\nYou wanna walk in his shoes, but your peacemaking seldom\nYou wanna be remembered that delivered the message\nThat considered the blessing of everyone\nThis your lesson for everyone, say;\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nWon't you look to your left and right? Make sure you ask your friends\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\n\nThe voice of Mandela, hope this flow stay propellin'\nLet my word be your Earth and moon, you consume every message\nAs I lead this army, make room for mistakes and depression\nAnd if you riding with me, nigga\u2014\n\nI been wrote off before, I got abandonment issues\nI hold grudges like bad judges, don't let me resent you\nThat's not Nelson-like\u2014want you to love me like Nelson\nI went to Robben's Island analysing; that's where his cell is\nSo I could find clarity\u2014like, how much you cherish me?\nIs this relationship a fake, or real as the heavens be?\nSee I got to question it all; family, friends, fans, cats, dogs\nTrees, plants, grass, how the wind blow, Murphy's Law\nGeneration X\u2014will I ever be your ex?\nFlaws of a baby step', mauled by the mouth of Pit bulls\nPut me under stress, crawled under rocks, duckin' y'all\nIt's respect\u2014but then tomorrow, put my back against the wall\nHow many leaders you said you needed then left 'em for dead?\nIs it Moses? Is it Huey Newton or Detroit Red?\nIs it Martin Luther? JFK? Shooter\u2014you assassin\nIs it Jackie? Is it Jesse? Oh, I know it's Michael Jackson\u2014oh\n\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\nThat nigga gave us \"Billie Jean,\" you say he touched those kids?\nWhen shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?\n\nThe ghost of Mandela, hope my flows stay propelling\nLet my word be your Earth and moon, you consume every message\nAs I lead this army, make room for mistakes and depression\nAnd if you riding with me, nigga, let me ask this question, nigga\n\n\"I remember you was conflicted\nMisusing your influence\nSometimes I did the same\nAbusing my power, full of resentment\nResentment that turned into a deep depression\nFound myself screaming in the hotel room\nI didn't wanna self destruct\nThe evils of Lucy was all around me\nSo I went running for answers\nUntil I came home\nBut that didn't stop survivor's guilt\nGoing back and forth trying to convince myself the stripes I earned\nOr maybe how A-1 my foundation was\nBut while my loved ones was fighting the continuous war back in the city\nI was entering a new one\nA war that was based on apartheid and discrimination\nMade me wanna go back to the city and tell the homies what I learned\nThe word was respect\nJust because you wore a different gang color than mine's\nDoesn't mean I can't respect you as a black man\nForgetting all the pain and hurt we caused each other in these streets\nIf I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us\nBut I don't know, I'm no mortal man\nMaybe I'm just another nigga\u201d\nShit and that's all I wrote\nI was gonna call it \"Another Nigga\" but, it ain't really a poem\nI just felt like it's something you probably could relate to\nOther than that, now that I finally got a chance to holla at you\nI always wanted to ask you about a certain situa-\nAbout a metaphor actually, uh, you spoke on the ground\nWhat you mean by that, what the ground represent?\nThe ground is gonna open up and swallow the evil\nRight\nThat's how I see it, my word is bond\nI see\u2014and the ground is the symbol for the poor people\nRight\nThe poor people is gonna open up this whole world\nAnd swallow up the rich people\n'Cause the rich people gonna be so fat\nAnd they gonna be so appetizing, you know what I'm saying Wealthy, appetizing\nThe poor gonna be so poor, and hungry\nRight\nYou know what I'm saying, it's gonna be like\nYou know what I'm saying, it's gonna be\nThere might, there might be some cannibalism out this muh-fu-\nThey might eat the rich, you know what I'm saying?\nAight so let me ask you this then\nDo you see yourself as somebody that's rich\nOr somebody that made the best of they own opportunities?\nI see myself as a natural born hustler\nA true hustler in every sense of the word\nI took nothin', I took the opportunities\nI worked at the most menial and degrading job\nAnd built myself up so I could get it to where I owned it\nI went from having somebody managing me\nTo me hiring the person that works my management company\nI changed everything, I realized my destiny\nIn a matter of five years, you know what I'm saying?\nI made myself a millionaire, I made millions for a lot of people\nNow it's time to make millions for myself, you know what I'm saying?\nI made millions for the record companies\nI made millions for these movie companies\nNow I make millions for, for us\nAnd through your different avenues of success\nHow would you say you managed to keep a level of sanity?\nBy my faith in God, by my faith in the game\nAnd by my faith in \"all good things come to those that stay true\"\nRight\nYou know what I'm saying?\nAnd it was happening to me for a reason\nYou know what I'm saying, I was noticing, shit\nI was punching the right buttons and it was happening\nSo it's no problem, you know\nI mean, it's a problem but I'm not finna let them know\nI'm finna go straight through\nWould you consider yourself a fighter at heart or somebody that\nSomebody that only reacts when they back is against the wall?\nShit, I like to think that at every opportunity I've ever been, uh Threatened with resistance, it's been met with resistance\nAnd not only me but, it goes down my family tree\nYou know what I'm saying, it's in my veins to fight back\nAight well, how long will you think it take before niggas be like\n\"We fighting a war, I'm fighting a war I can't win\nAnd I wanna lay it all down\"\nIn this country, a black man only have like\n5 years we can exhibit maximum strength\nAnd that's right now while you a teenager, while you still strong\nWhile you still wanna lift weights, while you still wanna shoot back\n'Cause once you turn 30 it's like\nThey take the heart and soul out of a man\nOut of a black man, in this country\nAnd you don't wanna fight no more\nAnd if you don't believe me, you can look around\nYou don't see no loud mouth 30-year old motherfuckers\nThat's crazy, because me being one of your offsprings\nOf the legacy you left behind, I can truly tell you that\nThere's nothing but turmoil goin' on so, I wanted to ask you\nWhat you think is the future for me and my generation today?\nI think that niggas is tired of grabbin' shit out the stores\nAnd next time it's a riot it's gonna be like, uh, bloodshed\nFor real, I don't think America know that\nI think America think we was just playing\nAnd it's gonna be some more playing but\nIt ain't gonna be no playing\nIt's gonna be murder, you know what I'm saying?\nIt's gonna be like Nat Turner, 1831, up in this motherfucker\nYou know what I'm saying, it's gonna happen\nThat's crazy, man, in my opinion\nOnly hope that we kinda have left is music and vibrations\nLot a people don't understand how important it is, you know\nSometimes I can like, get behind a mic\nAnd I don't know what type of energy I'ma push out\nOr where it comes from, trip me out sometimes\nBecause it's spirits, we ain't even really rappin'\nWe just letting our dead homies tell stories for us\nDamn\nI wanted to read one last thing to you\nIt's actually something a good friend had wrote\nDescribing my world, it says:\n\u201cThe caterpillar is a prisoner to the streets that conceived it\nIts only job is to eat or consume everything around it\nIn order to protect itself from this mad city\nWhile consuming its environment\nThe caterpillar begins to notice ways to survive\nOne thing it noticed is how much the world shuns him\nBut praises the butterfly\nThe butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness\nAnd the beauty within the caterpillar\nBut having a harsh outlook on life\nThe caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak\nAnd figures out a way to pimp it to his own benefits\nAlready surrounded by this mad city\nThe caterpillar goes to work on the cocoon\nWhich institutionalizes him\nHe can no longer see past his own thoughts\nHe's trapped\nWhen trapped inside these walls certain ideas take root, such as\nGoing home, and bringing back new concepts to this mad city\nThe result?\nWings begin to emerge, breaking the cycle of feeling stagnant\nFinally free, the butterfly sheds light on situations\nThat the caterpillar never considered, ending the internal struggle\nAlthough the butterfly and caterpillar are completely different\nThey are one and the same\"\nWhat's your perspective on that?\nPac? Pac? Pac?!"}
{"text":"*Screaming*\n\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\nI place blame on you still, place shame on you still\nFeel like you ain't shit, feel like you don't feel\nConfidence in yourself, breakin' on marble floors\nWatchin' anonymous strangers, tellin' me that I'm yours\nBut you ain't shit, I'm convinced your tolerance nothin' special\nWhat can I blame you for? Nigga, I can name several\nSituations, I'll start with your little sister bakin'\nA baby inside, just a teenager, where your patience?\nWhere was your antennas?\nWhere was the influence you speak of?\nYou preached in front of one-hunnid-thousand but never reached her\nI fuckin' tell you fuckin' failure\u2014you ain't no leader!\nI never liked you, forever despise you\u2014I don't need ya!\nThe world don't need ya, don't let them deceive ya\nNumbers lie too, fuck your pride too, that's for dedication\nThought money would change you, made you more complacent\nFuckin' hate you, I hope you embrace it, I swear\u2014\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\nLoving you is complicated, loving you is complicated\n\nLovin' you, lovin' you, not lovin' you, 100\u00b0 proof\nI can feel your vibe and recognize that you're ashamed of me\nYes, I hate you, too\n(Loving you ain't really complicated)\n\"Housekeeping, housekeeping\"\n(What I got to do to get to you?)\n\"\u00a1Abre la puerta! \u00a1Abre la puerta tengo que limpiar el cuarto!\"\n(To you)\n\"\u00a1Es que no hay mucho tiempo tengo que limpiar el cuarto!\"\n(Loving you ain't really complicated)\n\"\u00a1Disculpe!\"\n(What I got to do to get to you?)\n(To you)\n\nAnd you the reason why mom and them leavin'\nNo, you ain't shit, you say you love 'em, I know you don't mean it\nI know you irresponsible, selfish, in denial, can't help it\nYour trials and tribulations a burden, everyone felt it\nEveryone heard it, multiple shots, corners cryin' out\nYou was deserted, where was your antennas again?\nWhere was your presence? Where was your support that you pretend?\nYou ain\u2019t no brother, you ain\u2019t no disciple, you ain\u2019t no friend\nA friend never leave Compton for profit, or leave his best friend, little brother\nYou promised you\u2019d watch him before they shot him\nWhere was your antennas? On the road, bottles and bitches\nYou FaceTimed him one time, that's unforgiven\nYou even FaceTimed instead of a hospital visit\nGuess you thought he'd recover well\nThird surgery, they couldn't stop the bleeding for real\nThen he died, God himself will say, \"You fuckin' failed,\" you ain't try\n\n*Sniffling*\n\nI know your secrets, nigga, mood swings is frequent, nigga\nI know depression is restin' on your heart for two reasons, nigga\nI know you and a couple block boys ain't been speakin', nigga\nY'all damn near beefin', I see it and you're the reason, nigga\nAnd if this bottle could talk *gulping*\nI cry myself to sleep, bitch, everything is your fault\nFaults breakin' to pieces, earthquakes on every weekend\nBecause you shook as soon as you knew confinement was needed\nI know your secrets, don't let me tell 'em to the world\nAbout that shit you thinkin' and that time you *gulping*, I'm 'bout to hurl\nI'm fucked up, but I ain't as fucked up as you\nYou just can't get right, I think your heart made of bullet proof\nShould've killed yo' ass long time ago\nYou should've felt that black revolver blast a long time ago\nAnd if these mirrors could talk it'd say, \"You gotta go\"\nAnd if I told your secrets the world'll know money can't stop a suicidal weakness"}
{"text":"Love's gonna get you killed\nBut pride\u2019s gonna be the death of you and you and me\nAnd you and you and you and me\nAnd you and you and you and me\nAnd you and you and you and me and\u2014\n\nMe, I wasn't taught to share, but care\nIn another life, I surely was there\nMe, I wasn't taught to share, but care\nI care, I care\n\nHell-raising, wheel-chasing, new worldly possessions\nFlesh-making, spirit-breaking, which one would you lessen?\nThe better part, the human heart, you love \u2019em or dissect 'em\nHappiness or flashiness? How do you serve the question?\nSee, in a perfect world, I would be perfect, world\nI don't trust people enough beyond they surface, world\nI don't love people enough to put my faith in man\nI put my faith in these lyrics, hoping I make a band\nI understand I ain't perfect, I probably won't come around\nThis time I might put you down\nLast time I ain't give a fuck, I still feel the same now\nMy feelings might go numb, you're dealing with cold thumb\nI\u2019m willing to give up a leg and arm to show empathy from\nPity parties and functions of you and yours\nA perfect world, you probably live another 24\nI can\u2019t fake humble just 'cause your ass is insecure\nI can\u2019t fake humble just 'cause your ass is insecure\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nMe, I wasn't taught to share, but care\nIn another life, I surely was there\nMe, I wasn't taught to share, but care\nI care, I care\nMaybe I wasn\u2019t there (We saw you first)\nMaybe I wasn't there (I saw you first)\nMaybe I wasn't there (I saw you first)\nMaybe I wasn't there\n\nNow, in a perfect world, I probably won't be insensitive\nCold as December but never remember what winter did\nI wouldn't blame you for mistakes I made or the bed I laid\nSeems like I point the finger just to make a point nowadays\nSmiles and cold stares, the temperature goes there\nIndigenous disposition, feel like we belong here\nI know the walls, they can listen, I wish they could talk back\nThe hurt becomes repetition, the love almost lost that\nSick venom in men and women overcome with pride\nA perfect world is never perfect, only filled with lies\nPromises are broken and more resentment come alive\nRace barriers make inferior of you and I\nSee, in a perfect world, I'll choose faith over riches\nI'll choose work over bitches, I'll make schools out of prison\nI'll take all the religions and put 'em all in one service\nJust to tell 'em we ain't shit, but He's been perfect, world\nMe, I wasn't taught to share, but care\nIn another life, I surely was there\nMe, I wasn't taught to share, but care\nI care, I care\nMaybe I wasn't there (We saw you first)\nMaybe I wasn't there (I saw you first)\nMaybe I wasn't there (I saw you first)\nMaybe I wasn't there"}
{"text":"It was always me versus the world\nUntil I found it's me versus me\nWhy, why, why, why?\nWhy, why, why, why?\nJust remember, what happens on Earth stays on Earth!\nWe gon' put it in reverse\n\nDarling, I told you many times\nAnd I am telling you once again\nJust to remind you, sweetheart\nThat my\u2014\n\nOh, Lamar\nHail Mary and marijuana, times is hard\nPray with the hooligans, shadows all in the dark\nFellowship with demons and relatives, I'm a star\nLife is one funny ma'fucker\nA true comedian, you gotta love him, you gotta trust him\nI might be buggin', infomercials and no sleep\nIntroverted by my thoughts; children, listen, it gets deep\nSee, once upon a time inside the Nickerson Garden projects\nThe object was to process and digest poverty's dialect\nAdaptation inevitable: gun violence, crack spot\nFederal policies raid buildings and drug professionals\nAnthony was the oldest of seven\nWell-respected, calm and collected\nLaughin' and jokin' made life easier; hard times, mama on crack\nA four-year-old tellin' his nanny he needed her\nHis family history: pimpin' and bangin'\nHe was meant to be dangerous, clocked him a grip and start slangin'\nFifteen, scrapin' up his jeans with quarter pieces\nEven got some head from a smoker last weekend\nDodged a policeman, workin' for his big homie\nSmall-time hustler, graduated to a brick on him\nTen-thousand dollars out of a project housing, that's on the daily\nSeen his first mill' twenty years old, had a couple of babies\nHad a couple of shooters, caught a murder case\nFingerprints on the gun they assumin', but witnesses couldn't prove it\nThat was back when he turned his back and they killed his cousin\nHe beat the case and went back to hustlin'\nBird-shufflin', Anthony rang\nThe first in the projects with the two-tone Mustang, that 5.0 thing They say 5-0 came, circlin' parking lots and parking spots\nAnd hoppin' out while harrassin' the corner blocks\nCrooked cops told Anthony he should kick it\nHe brushed 'em off and walked back to the Kentucky Fried Chicken\nSee, at this chicken spot, there was a light-skinned nigga that talked a lot\nWith a curly top and a gap in his teeth, he worked the window\nHis name was Ducky, he came from the streets, The Robert Taylor Homes\nSouthside Projects, Chiraq, the Terror Dome\nDrove to California with a woman on him and five-hundred dollars\nThey had a son, hopin' that he'd see college\nHustlin' on the side with a nine-to-five to freak it\nCadillac Seville, he'd ride his son around on weekends\nThree-piece special with his name on the shirt pocket\n'Cross the street from the projects, Anthony planned to rob it\nStuck up the place before, back in '84\nThat's when affiliation was really at gears of war\nSo many relatives tellin' us, sellin' us devilish works, killin' us, crime\nIntelligent, felonious prevalent proposition with 9's\nDucky was well-aware\nThey robbed the manager and shot a customer last year\nHe figured he'd get on these niggas' good sides\nFree chicken every time Anthony posted in line, two extra biscuits\nAnthony liked him and then let him slide, they didn't kill him\nIn fact, it look like they're the last to survive, pay attention\nThat one decision changed both of they lives, one curse at a time\nReverse the manifest and good karma, and I'll tell you why\nYou take two strangers and put 'em in random predicaments\nGive 'em a soul, so they can make their own choices and live with it\nTwenty years later, them same strangers, you make 'em meet again\nInside recording studios where they reapin' their benefits\nThen you start remindin' them about that chicken incident\nWhoever thought the greatest rapper would be from coincidence?\nBecause if Anthony killed Ducky, Top Dawg could be servin' life\nWhile I grew up without a father and die in a gunfight\n*Gunshot*\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nThgifnug a ni eid dna rehtaf a tuohtiw pu werg I elihW\nEfil 'nivres eb dluoc gwaD poT ,ykcuD dellik ynohtnA fi esuaceB\nEcnedicnioc morf eb dluow reppar tsetaerg eht thguoht reveohW?\nTnedicni nekcihc taht tuoba meht 'nidnimer trats uoy nehT\nStifeneb rieht 'nipaer yeht erehw soiduts gnidrocer edisnI\nNiaga teem me' ekam uoy ,sregnarts emas meht ,retal sraey ytnewT\nTi htiw evil dna seciohc nwo rieht ekam nac yeht os luos a me' eviG\nStnemaciderp modnar ni me' tup dna sregnarts owt ekat uoY\nYhw uoy llet ll'I dna ,amrak doog dna tsefinam eht esreveR\nEmit a ta esruc eno ,sevil yeht fo htob degnahc noisiced eno tahT\nNoitnetta yaP\u2014\nErac tuB\n\u2014Tpecnoc etalucammi ,siht ekil eno ecnis retrauq eniacoC\nAND ym edisni ytlayor tog ,ytlayoL\n\u2014Tog I ,tog I ,tog I ,tog I\nSo, I was takin' a walk the other day\u2026"}
{"text":"\nEverybody, everybody, everybody\nEverybody sit yo bitch-ass down\nAnd listen to this true mothafuckin' story\nTold by Kendrick Lamar on Rosecrans, ya bitch\n\nSmokin' on the finest dope, ayy-ayy-ayy-ah\nDrank until I can't no mo', ayy-ayy-ayy-ah\nReally I'm a sober soul\nBut I'm with the homies right now\nAnd we ain't askin' for no favors\nRush a nigga quick, then laugh about it later, ayy-ayy-ayy-ah\nReally, I'm a peacemaker\nBut I'm with the homies right now\nAnd Momma used to say (Say, say, say, say)\nOne day it's gon' burn you out (Woo)\nOne day it's gon' burn you out, out, out\nOne day it's gon' burn you out (You, you, you, you, you, you)\nOne day it's gon' burn you\nBut I'm with the homies right now\n\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nMe and my niggas four deep in a white Toyota\nA quarter tank of gas, one pistol, an orange soda\nJanky stash box when the federales'll roll up\nBasketball shorts with the Gonzales Park odor\nWe on the mission for bad bitches and trouble\nI hope the universe love you today\n'Cause the energy we bringin' sure to carry away\nA flock of positive activists that fill they body with hate\nIf it's necessary; bumpin' Jeezy first album, lookin' distracted\nSpeakin' language only we know, you think it's an accent\nThe windows roll down, all I see is a hand pass it\nHotboxin' like George Foreman grillin' the masses\nOf the workin' world; we pulled up on a bunch of workin' girls\nAnd asked them what they workin' with\nLook at me, I got the blunt in my mouth\nUsually I'm drug-free, but, shit, I'm with the homies\nYeah, nigga, we off a pill and R\u00e9my Red\nCome through and bust ya head, nigga!\nMe and the homies\nSag all the way to the liquor store\nWhere my niggas pour up 4 and get twisted some more\nMe and the homies\nI ride for my mothafuckin' niggas\nHop out, do my stuff, then hop back in\nMe and the homies\nMatter of fact, I hop out that mothafucka\nAnd be like \"doo-doo-doo-doot, doo-doo-doo-doo-doot!\u201d\nIt's 2:30 and the sun is beamin'\nAir conditioner broke and I hear my stomach screamin'\nHungry for anything unhealthy\nAnd if nutrition can help me\nI'll tell you to suck my dick, then I'll continue eatin'\nWe speedin' on the 405, passin' Westchester\nYou know, the light-skinned girls in all the little dresses\nGood Lord, they knew we weren't from 'round there\n'Cause every time we down there\nWe pullin' out the Boost Mobile SIM cards\nBougie bitches with no extensions\nHood niggas with bad intentions, the perfect combination\nBefore we sparked a conversation\nWe seen three niggas in colors we didn't like\nThen started interrogatin'\nI never was a gangbanger, I mean\nI never was stranger to the fonk neither, I really doubt it\nRush a nigga quick and then we laugh about it\nThat's ironic, 'cause I've never been violent\nUntil I'm with the homies\n\n(Just ridin', just ridin')\nMe and the homies\n(Bullshittin', actin' a fool)\nMe and the homies\n(Trippin', really trippin')\nMe and the homies\n(Just ridin', just ridin', just ridin')\nBraggin' 'bout the episode we just had\nA shot of Hennessy didn't make me feel that bad\nI'm usually a true firm believer of bad karma\nConsequences from evil will make your past haunt ya\nWe tryna conquer the city with disobedience\nQuick to turn it up, even if we ain't got the CD in\nBut Jeezy still playin'\nAnd our attitude is still \"nigga, what is you sayin'?\"\nPull in front of the house\nThat we been campin' out for like two months\nThe sun is goin' down as we take whatever we want\n\nAyy, ayy, nigga, jackpot, nigga, pop the safe!\nAyy, nigga, I think there's somebody in this room!\nWait, what?!\nNigga, there's somebody in this room!\n\nI hit the back window in search of any Nintendo\nDVD's, plasma-screen TV's in the trunk\nWe made a right, then made a left, then made a right\nThen made a left, we was just circlin' life\nMy mama called: \"Hello? What you doin'?\" \u2014 \"Kickin' it.\"\nI shoulda told her I'm probably 'bout to catch my first offense\nWith the homies\n(Police sirens)\nBut \u2013 they made a right, then made a left\nThen made a right, then another right\nOne lucky night with the homies\n\nK. Dot, you faded, hood?\nYeah, we finally got that nigga faded\nI think he hit the wrong blunt though\nOoh, which one?\nWell, which one he talkin' about?\nI was finna hit the one with the shenanigans in it\nI pray he ain't hit that\nNah, that nigga straight, he ain't hit that one\nGot the shenanigans? Give that nigga the shenanigans!\nNigga, I think we should push back to the city, fo' real doe\nNigga, for what?\nWhat that nigga\u2014 what's that Jeezy song say, nigga?\n\"Last time I checked I was the man on these streets!\"\nYeah, yeah, that shit right there\nI'm tryna be the nigga in the street\nThere he go. Man, you don't even know how the shit go\nLook, here's the plan, luv\nWe gon' use the kickback as an alibi, wait 'til the sun go down, roll out, complete the mission, drop K. Dot off at his mama van, at the park\n'Cause I know he tryna fuck on Sherane tonight\nThat's what he's not gon' do\nThen we all gon' meet back at the block at about 10:30\nThat's straight, but we should meet up around 12\nI'm tryna fuck on somethin' too\nNigga, sit yo dumb-ass back down!\nNigga, you ain't doin' shit tonight!\nMatter of fact, nigga, get in the mothafuckin' car!\nWe finna get active!"}
{"text":"Don't tell a lie on me\nI won\u2019t tell the truth 'bout you\nDon't tell a lie on me\nI won\u2019t tell the truth 'bout you\n\nThirty millions later, my future favors\nThe legendary status of a hip-hop rhyme savior\nTravel round the atlas in this spaceship\nCandy-coated, my day shift's\nBeen devoted to fuckin' up bundles of paper\nPi equals three-fourteen\nThe devil's pie is big enough to justify the whole thing\nWait up, lampin' in Jamaica\nThe clouds turnin', my thoughts turnin'\nBurnin\u2019 castor oil, yo I been determined to make an earnin\u2019\nThis seed in this soil is classified\nI'm satisfied when I strategize my kid\u2019s future\nI ain't sanctified enough to say that I won't shoot ya\nI done vandalized the industry full circuit\nThe earthiest slash thirstiest nigga you know versus this\nScum of a land that transcend two surfaces\nThe richer the poorer, the bigger the picture\nThe more blood pours, but\u2014\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nDon't tell a lie on me\nI won\u2019t tell the truth 'bout you\nDon't tell a lie on me\nI won't tell the truth 'bout you\nMy fans can't wait for me to son ya punk-ass\nAnd crush ya whole lil' shit\nI'll Big Pun ya punk-ass, you a scared lil' bitch\nTiptoein' around my name, nigga, you lame\nAnd when I get at you, homie\nDon't you just tell me you was just playin'\n\"Oh, I was just playin', K-Dot\nC'mon, you know a nigga rock witchu, bro\"\nShut the fuck up, you sound like the last nigga I know\nMight end up like the last nigga I know\nOh, you don't wanna clash? Nigga, I know\nI put my foot on the gas, head on the floor\nHoppin' out before the vehicle crash, I'm on a roll\nYellin', \"One, two, three, four, five\nI am the greatest rapper alive\"\nSo damn great, motherfucker, I've died\nWhat you hearin' now is a paranormal vibe\nHouse on the hill, house on the beach, nigga (Facts)\nA condo in Compton, I'm still in reach, nigga (Facts)\nI'm fresh out the water, I'm 'bout to breach, nigga\nThe five-foot giant woke up out of his sleep, nigga\nOh yeah, oh yeah, mo' cars, mo' lears\nMo' bars, no peers, no scars, no fear\u2014fuck y'all, sincere\nI heard the whispers, I curved the whispers\nYou know what the risk is\nEarthed in ditches, your body revertin' to stiffness\nThe whole world gone mad\nBodies is addin' up, market's about to crash\nNiggas is fake rich, bitches is fake bad\nBlacks that act white, whites that do the dab\nDonald Trump is a chump\nKnow how we feel, punk\u2014tell him that God comin'\nAnd Russia need a replay button, y'all up to somethin'\nElectorial votes look like memorial votes\nBut America's truth ain't ignorin' the votes\nIt's blasphemy, how many gon' blast for me?\nI prophesized on my last song, you laughed at me\nBut when the shit get brackin', don't you ask for me\nHow many leaders gon' tell you the truth after me?\nG Malone, big bro, kudos to him\nI was two O's from a M, tryna be big as Em\nThirty millions later, my future favors\nThe legendary status of a hip-hop rhyme savior\nSalmon and capers, fame and lawsuits\nYou lookin' at me in Chucks, I'm lookin' at y'all suits\nMe and Top Dawg playin' rock-paper-scissors in court\nA real hustler lose money just to go get some more\nI said it's like that, dropped one classic, came right back\n'Nother classic, right back\nMy next album, the whole industry on a ice pack\nWith TOC, you see the flames\nIn my E-Y-E's\u2014it's not a game\nAnd the whole world is goin' mad, daddy, it's sad, daddy\nMy only advice? Go and get you a bag, daddy\nLee Baca on trial tryna portray a boxer\nBeatin' up on my niggas while the CO's watch him\nTables turned, lesson learned, my best look\nYou jumped sides on me, now you 'bout to meet Westbrook\nGo celebrate witcha team and let victory vouch you\nJust know, the next game played I might slap the shit out you\nTechnical foul, I'm flagrant, I'm foul\nThey throwin' me out, you throw in the towel\nLook at the crowd, they\u2014 (Naw, I don't like that)\nLook at my smile, I'm smirkin'\nCalm but urgent (That ain't the style, fuck!)\nSo many verses, you live in denial (Fuck!)\nSo many verses, I never run out (What?)\nYou makin' him nervous, the music is loud\nHo, JAY-Z Hall of Fame, sit yo' punk-ass down!\n(Sit yo punk-ass down)\nSo that means you ain't bigger than rapping (What else?)\nSo that means no more playin' the back scenes (What else?)\nMy spot is solidified if you ask me (What else?)\nMy name is identified as \"That King\"\nI'll let y'all worry 'bout a list, I'm on some other shit\nA difference between accomplishments and astonishments\nYou know what time it is, ante up, this is in forever\nY'all got 'til April the 7th to get y'all shit together\nLet's get it!\nLook, look!\nOn foenem"}
{"text":"How much a dollar really cost?\nThe question is detrimental, paralyzin' my thoughts\nParasites in my stomach keep me with a gut feeling, y'all\nGotta see how I'm chillin' once I park this luxury car\nHopping out feeling big as Mutombo\n\"20 on pump 6,\" dirty Marcellus called me Dumbo\nTwenty years ago, can't forget\nNow I can lend him a ear or two\nHow to stack these residuals tenfold\nThe liberal concept of what men'll do\n\"20 on 6,\" he didn't hear me\nIndigenous African only spoke Zulu\nMy American tongue was leery\nWalked out the gas station\nA homeless man with a semi-tan complexion\nAsked me for ten Rand, stressin' about dry land\nDeep water, powder blue skies that crack open\nA piece of crack that he wanted, I knew he was smokin'\nHe begged and pleaded\nAsked me to feed him twice, I didn't believe it\nTold him, \"Beat it\"\nContributin' money just for his pipe\u2014I couldn't see it\nHe said, \"My son, temptation is one thing that I've defeated\nListen to me, I want a single bill from you\nNothin' less, nothin' more\"\nI told him I ain't have it and closed my door\nTell me, how much a dollar cost?\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nIt's more to feed your mind\nWater, sun and love, the one you love\nAll you need, the air you breathe\n\nHe's starin' at me in disbelief\nMy temper is buildin', he's starin' at me, I grab my key\nHe's starin' at me, I started the car, then I tried to leave\nAnd somethin' told me to keep it in park until I could see\nThe reason why he was mad at a stranger\nLike I was supposed to save him\nLike I'm the reason he's homeless and askin' me for a favor\nHe's starin' at me, his eyes followed me with no laser\nHe's starin' at me, I notice that his stare is contagious\n'Cause now I'm starin' back at him, feelin' some type of disrespect\nIf I could throw a bat at him, it'd be aimin' at his neck\nI never understood someone beggin' for goods\nAskin' for handouts, takin' it if they could\nAnd this particular person just had it down pat\nStarin' at me for the longest until he finally asked\n\"Have you ever opened up Exodus 14?\nA humble man is all that we ever need\"\nTell me, how much a dollar cost?\nIt's more to feed your mind\nWater, sun and love, the one you love\nAll you need, the air you breathe\nGuilt trippin' and feelin' resentment\nI never met a transient that demanded attention\nThey got me frustrated, indecisive and power trippin'\nSour emotions got me lookin' at the universe different\nI should distance myself, I should keep it relentless\nMy selfishness is what got me here, who the fuck I'm kiddin'?\nSo I'ma tell you like I told the last bum\nCrumbs and pennies, I need all of mines\nAnd I recognize this type of panhandlin' all the time\nI got better judgment, I know when nigga's hustlin', keep in mind\nWhen I was strugglin', I did compromise, now I comprehend\nI smell Grandpa's old medicine, reekin' from your skin\nMoonshine and gin, nigga, you're babblin', your words ain't flatterin'\nI'm imaginin' Denzel but lookin' at O'Neal\nKazaam is sad thrills, your gimmick is mediocre\nThe jig is up, I seen you from a mile away losin' focus\nAnd I'm insensitive, and I lack empathy\nHe looked at me and said, \"Your potential is bittersweet\"\nI looked at him and said, \"Every nickel is mines to keep\"\nHe looked at me and said, \"Know the truth, it'll set you free\nYou're lookin' at the Messiah, the son of Jehovah, the higher power\nThe choir that spoke the word, the Holy Spirit\nThe nerve of Nazareth, and I'll tell you just how much a dollar cost\nThe price of having a spot in Heaven, embrace your loss\u2014I am God\"\nI washed my hands, I said my grace\nWhat more do you want from me?\nTears of a clown, guess I'm not all what it's all meant to be\nShades of grey will never change if I condone\nTurn this page, help me change to right my wrongs"}
{"text":"\nI remember you was conflicted, misusing your influence\nSometimes, I did the same\n\n*Woman moaning*\nIf these walls could talk\nIf these walls could talk\nIf these walls could talk\nIf these walls could talk\nIf these walls could talk\nIf these walls could talk\u2014\nSex\nShe just want to close her eyes and sway\nWith you, with you, with you (Ah, come on)\nExercise her right to work it out\nIt's true, it's true, it's true\nShout out to the birthday girls\nSay hey (Hey), say hey (Hey), (Ah, girl)\nEveryone deserves a night to play (Play)\nShe plays, only when you tell her no\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nIf these walls could talk\nI can feel your reign when it cries, gold lives inside of you\nIf these walls could talk\nI love it when I'm in it, I love it when I'm in it\n(Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohh)\n\nIf these walls could talk, they'd tell me to swim good\nNo boat, I float better than he would\nNo life jacket, I'm not the God of Nazareth\nBut your flood can be misunderstood\nWalls telling me they full of pain, resentment\nNeed someone to live in them just to relieve tension\nMe, I'm just a tenant\nLandlord said these walls vacant more than a minute\nThese walls are vulnerable, exclamation\nInterior pink, color coordinated\nI interrogated every nook and cranny\nI mean, it's still amazing, before they couldn't stand me\nThese walls want to cry tears\nThese walls happier when I'm here\nThese walls never could hold up\nEvery time I come around, demolition might crush\n\nIf these walls could talk\nI can feel your reign when it cries, gold lives inside of you\nIf these walls could talk\nI love it when I'm in it, I love it when I'm in it\n(Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohh)\nIf these walls could talk, they'd tell me to go deep\nYelling at me continuously, I can see\nYour defense mechanism is my decision\nKnock these walls down, that's my religion\nWalls feeling like they ready to close in\nI suffocate, then catch my second wind\nI resonate in these walls\nI don't know how long I can wait in these walls\nI've been on the streets too long\nLooking at you from the outside in\nThey sing the same old song\nAbout how they walls always the cleanest\nI beg to differ, I must've missed them\nI'm not involved, I'd rather diss 'em\nI'd rather call on you, put your wall up\n'Cause when I come around, demolition gon' crush\n\nIf these walls could talk\nI can feel your reign when it cries, gold lives inside of you\nIf these walls could talk\nI love it when I'm in it, I love it when I'm in it\n(Oh, oh, oh, oh, ohh)\n\nIf your walls could talk, they'd tell you it's too late\nYour destiny accepted your fate\nBurn accessories and stash them on the yard\nTake the recipe, the Bible and God\nWall telling you that commissary is low\nRace wars happening, no calling CO\nNo calling your mother to save you\nHomies to say you're irrepetible, not acceptable\nYour behavior is Sammy the Bull like\nA killer that turned snitch\nWalls is telling me you a bitch\nYou pray for appeals hoping the warden would afford them\nThat sentence so important\nWalls telling you to listen to \"Sing About Me\"\nRetaliation is strong, you even dream 'bout me\nKilled my homeboy and God spared your life\nDumb criminal got indicted same night\nSo when you play this song, rewind the first verse\nAbout me abusing my power so you can hurt\nAbout me and her in the shower whenever she horny\nAbout me and her in the after hours of the morning\nAbout her baby daddy currently serving life\nAnd how she think about you until we meet up at night\nAbout the only girl that cared about you when you asked her\nAnd how she fuckin' on a famous rapper\nWalls can talk (Talk)\n\nI remember you was conflicted\nMisusing your influence\nSometimes I did the same\nAbusing my power, full of resentment\nResentment that turned into a deep depression\nFound myself screaming in a hotel room"}
{"text":"Everybody put three fingers in the air\nThe sky is falling, the wind is calling\nStand for something or die in the morning\nSection.80, HiiiPoWeR\n\nVisions of Martin Luther staring at me\nMalcolm X put a hex on my future, someone catch me\nI'm falling victim to a revolutionary song, the Serengeti's clone\nBack to put you backstabbers back on your spinal bone\nYou slipped your disc when I slid you my disc\nYou wanted to diss, but jumped on my dick\nGrown men never should bite their tongue\nUnless you eatin' pussy that smell like it's a stale plum\nI got my finger on the motherfuckin' pistol\nAimin' it at a pig, Charlotte's web is gonna miss you\nMy issue isn't televised and you ain't gotta tell the wise\nHow to stay on beat, because our life's an instrumental\nThis is physical and mental, I won't sugarcoat it\nYou'd die from diabetes if these other niggas wrote it\nAnd everything on TV just a figment of imagination\nI don't want a plastic nation, dread that like a Haitian\nWhile you motherfuckers waiting, I be off the slave ship\nBuilding pyramids, writing my own hieroglyphs\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nJust call the shit HiiiPoWeR\nNigga, nothing less than HiiiPoWeR\nFive-star dishes, food for thought, bitches\nI mean this shit is\nHuey Newton going stupid, you can't resist his\nHiiiPoWeR\nThrow your hands up for HiiiPoWeR\n\nVisions of Martin Luther staring at me\nIf I see it how he seen it, that would make my parents happy\nSorry, mama, I can't turn the other cheek\nThey wanna knock me off the edge like a fuckin' widow's peak, uh\nAnd she always told me pray for the weak, uh\nThem demons got me, I ain't prayed in some weeks, uh\nDear Lord, come save me, the devil's working hard\nHe probably clockin' double shifts on all of his jobs\nFrightenin', so fuckin' frightenin'\nEnough to drive a man insane, I need a license to kill\nI'm standing on a field full of land mines\nDoin' the moonwalk, hopin' I blow up in time\n'Cause 2012 might not be a fuckin' legend\nTryna be a fuckin' legend, the man of mankind\nWho said a Black man in the Illuminati?\nLast time I checked, that was the biggest racist party\nSo get up off that slave ship\nBuild your own pyramids, write your own hieroglyphs\nJust call the shit HiiiPoWeR\nNigga, nothing less than HiiiPoWeR\nFive-star dishes, food for thought, bitches\nI mean this shit is\nBobby Seale makin' meals, you can't resist his\nHiiiPoWeR\nThrow your hands up for HiiiPoWeR\n\nEvery day, we fight the system just to make our way\nWe been down for too long, but that's alright\nWe was built to be strong, 'cause it's our life, na-na-na\nEvery day, we fight the system, we fight the system\nWe fight the system (Never like the system)\nWe been down for too long, but that's alright, na-na-na\n\nWho said a Black man in the Illuminati?\nLast time I checked, that was the biggest racist party\nLast time I checked, we was racin' with Marcus Garvey\nOn the freeway to Africa 'til I wreck my Audi\nAnd I want everybody to view my autopsy\nSo you can see exactly where the government had shot me\nNo conspiracy, my fate is inevitable\nThey play musical chairs once I'm on that pedestal\nFrightenin', so fuckin' frightenin'\nEnough to drive a man insane, a woman insane\nThe reason Lauryn Hill don't sing, or Kurt Cobain\nLoaded that clip and then said bang\nThe drama it bring is crazy, product of the late '80s\nTryna stay above water, that's why we shun the Navy\nPull your guns and play me, let's set it off\n'Cause a riot, throw a Molotov\nSomebody told me them pirates had got lost\n'Cause we been off them slave ships\nGot our own pyramids, write our own hieroglyphs\nJust call the shit HiiiPoWeR\nYeah, nothing less than HiiiPoWeR\nFive-star dishes, food for thought, bitches\nI mean this shit is\nFred Hampton on your campus, you can't resist his\nHiiiPoWeR\nThrow your hands up for HiiiPoWeR\n\nThug life\nThug life"}
{"text":"Alright, here we go, third take\nReal quick, Ali\nMmm\n\nGot me breathing with dragons\nI'll crack the egg in your basket, you bastard\nI'm Marilyn Manson with madness\nNow just imagine the magic I light to asses\nDon't ask for your favorite rapper\n(He dead), yes, sir (Amen), church\n(He dead), I killed him (Amen), bitch\n\nAnd this is rigor mortis and it's gorgeous when you die\nAli recorded and I'm Morpheus, the matrix of my mind\nI'm out the orbit, you an orphan and a hairdresser combined\nI'm on the toilet when I rhyme, if you the shit, then I decline\nI climax where you begin and then I end on cloud nine\nAnd that's important when you morph into an angel in the sky\nAnd don't be forging all my signatures, my listeners reply\nAnd tell me that you biting style, you got a hell of an appetite\nAnd I'ma be here for a while, just buckle up before the ride\nOr knuckle up if you can fight, we always making 'em duck or die\nA suit and tie is suitable and usual in suicide\nCSI just might investigate this fucking parasite\n(He dead, amen)\nThat's what they telling me\nAim it at your celebrity, this is studio felony\nFerragami so many and cool enough for the '70s\nNigga, payback's a bitch, and bitch, you been livin' in debt with me\nDead 'em all and especially\nLeave a call on his mother voicemail that say that he rest in peace\nBigger chopper the recipe\nWrestling? That's irrelevant, rather rest at your residence\nWhistling to the melody, couldn't think of a better D\nBetter be on your P and Q, it's just me, Jay Rock, Soul, and Q\nSolar system and barbecue, nothing else you can do\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\n(He dead), yup-yup (Amen), I killed him\n(He dead, amen), amen\nGot me breathing with dragons\nI'll crack the egg in your basket, you bastard\nI'm Marilyn Manson, don't ask for your favorite rapper\n(He dead), yup-yup (Amen), I know\n(He dead), for sure (Amen), amen\nGot me breathing with dragons\nI'll crack the egg in your basket, you bastard\nI'm Marilyn Manson, don't ask for your favorite rapper\nI wrapped him and made him Casper, I capture the likes of NASA\nMy pedigree to fly past ya, I'll pass the weed to the pastor\nWe all are sinners, won't you send us to Bible study faster?\nYour hypocritist reaction a blasphemy, I assassin my casualty\nAnd it's casually done, and tell 'em my salary come\nIn lump sum one hundreds, don't talk to me 'bout no money\nThe sun is under my feet, and I come in peace to compete\nI don't run if you'd rather leap, my statistics go up in weeks\nAnd I go visit the nearest creek, and I get busy on many MC\nReally ballistic, anybody can see\nAny assistance, everybody deceased\nSome persistence, recognize I be\nReally too vicious, the permanent beast\nAnd the demolition breaking up the street\nBetter partition, better dot your T\nAnd I gon' mention how the far you see\nPutting my dick in the rap industry\nEverybody bitching, getting mad at me\nRecognize Kendrick in the battery\nAnd I'm charged up, and the catastrophe\nIs charged up, and the audacity\nOf y'all fucks never could hassle me\nAnd y'all luck just ran out, you'll see\n(He dead), yup-yup (Amen), I know\n(He dead), for sure (Amen), amen\nGot me breathing with dragons\nI'll crack the egg in your basket, you bastard\nI'm Marilyn Manson, don't ask for your favorite rapper\n(He dead), yup-yup (Amen), I know\n(He dead), for sure (Amen), amen"}
{"text":"Dick hard like rottweiler\nCan you handle it? Can you handle it? Woo woo, woo woo\nThe whole industry been in shambles\nEverybody fugazi, I\u2019m just changing the channel\nKendrick Lamar, the people\u2019s champion, I'm animal for analysts\nCareer damaging verses, meditating with candles lit\nI like my raps extra prolific\nSince freestyling on lunch tables and park benches\nAnd I won\u2019t mention my 10,000 hours in training\nWhile juggling, gang-banging, my balancing was tremendous\nAnd now we look at the competition as quick submission\nThey tappin\u2019 out before we even get a chance to miss \u2018em\nWhat this about, is it money or skill?\nMaybe it\u2019s both and I got large amounts of it, it\u2019s real\nYou see my oath is very unbreakable, my style is never mistakable\nI can see y\u2019all incapable\nTo be the God emcees, you know me well\nRidiculous, venomous, hate in my heart, the sinister\nRun for cover, my lineage prove itself\nI\u2019m rollin\u2019 deep in that paper like two Adeles\nBefore scholars, I flowed tighter than virgin lips\nWe here to shake the game up and you're flying through turbulence\nEverything is high stakes nowadays, that\u2019s how it played nowadays\nIt\u2019s like an 8-ball to the face nowadays\nI'm laced nowadays, my gun is off the waist nowadays\nIt\u2019s seven figures and retainer for the case nowadays, I'm talking\nHigher power, every other hour since Eddie Bauer\nSince stash boxes and lead showers, breaking the padlock\nAnd the dead coward dying a thousand deaths, entire lion\nSurround itself with bears, watch it nigga, you share a profit, ah!\nThis is what they want, I\u2019m the one\nThis is vintage from 1980 somethin'\nI\u2019m the son of the pioneer that got you near the sun\nPlay with him, bitch you better off voting for Donald Trump\nI\u2019m yelling Mr. Kanye West for president\nHe probably let me get some head inside the residence\nI\u2019m in the White House going all out\nBumping College Dropout, God bless Americans\nNothing more influential than rap music\nI merge jazz fusion with the trap music\nI mix black soul with some rock and roll\nThey never box me in, I\u2019m David Blaine-ing all you hoes\nOh yea, let\u2019s go there, my DNA is DMT, I\u2019m so rare\nMy Juvenile was wilder than the Nolia\nA locomotive couldn\u2019t track me down in my career\nRunnin\u2019 this shit with four pair, son of my bitch, I might demolish\nA bitch right in front ya, chico, what have you done here?\nD-Bo, all of it one year, Mississippi to California\nIt gets annoying, niggas wanna deplore him\nAnd bitches wanna adore him, but industry shit ain\u2019t for him\nProbably thinking it\u2019s for him, only one me\nSwallowed the key and kicking the door in, never leasing my foreign\nMr. Valevictorian studied the game before them\nListen to you with boredom, baby rappers, abort them\nTo the grave I deport them, corporations extort them\nI\u2019m snapping off my endorphins, I alien mighty morphin\u2019\nMy radiance rather gorgeous, hundred bill to the doorman\nHundred mil' in my fortune, they call me back in the morning\nYou're racing against the tortoise, pace myself it\u2019s important\nLace myself with the wisdom my playerism enormous\nSo pay the man for performance, saucy all of my garments\nJimi Kendrix performing, this fucking studio haunted (Ah!)\nI tell a bitch don\u2019t sweat me (Don't sweat me)\nI kill this whole fuckin\u2019 beat if Cole let me (Please Cole)\nIb should\u2019ve never sent the instrumental\nEvery time I start writing I get sentimental\nThis shit is just not fair\nBut why the fuck should I care?\nThe story of your life here\nTwo young stars was born and y\u2019all gon\u2019 die here\nOh Lord, gotta be the yams\nBillboard list need 2Pac, damn\nBut number 9 makes sure he lives on, yeah\nHoochie, coochie, pussies in a trance\nEvery day a celebration, but even the valley peaking me\nIs not validation, nigga this TDE\nAnd my doggies be salivating, salaries, better ratings\nAnd casualties all around me, don\u2019t make me do demonstrations\nWhoa\nMurder my allegations and burning my finger traces\nAdjourning my power patience and earning royalty payments\nI\u2019m sorry y\u2019all not relating, this party is reservated\nI kill this whole muthafucking beat if J. Cole say it\nMy nigga Ib chopped the instrumental, I gotta slay it\nI gotta lay it, gotta show you fuckers I\u2019m not to play with\nThe ruckus had been my favorite, King Kunta the fuckin\u2019 greatest\nWhoa\nBurnin\u2019 my leather-\n(Nah I\u2019m just fuckin\u2019 wit cha)\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like"}
{"text":"\nK-Dot, pick up the phone, nigga\nEvery time I call, it's going to voicemail\nDon't tell me they got you on some weirdo rap shit, nigga\nNo socks and skinny jeans and shit, ha\nHa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haha\nCall me on Shaniqua's phone!\n\nI been A-1 since day one, you niggas boo-boo\nYour home boy, your block that you're from, boo-boo\nLil' hoes you went to school with, boo-boo\nBaby mama and your new bitch, boo-boo\nWe was in the hood, fourteen with the deuce-deuce\nFourteen years later, going hard like we used to\nOn the dead homies\nOn the dead homies\nI don't give a fuck about no politics in rap, my nigga\nOur lil' homie Stunna Deuce ain't never comin' back, my nigga\nSo you better go hard every time you jump on wax, my nigga\nFuck what they talkin' 'bout, your shit is where it's at, my nigga\nCame in this game, you stuck your fangs in this game\nYou wore no chain in this game, your hood, your name in this game\nNow you double up, time to bubble up the bread and huddle up\nStickin' to the scripts, now, here, if them Benjamins go cuddle up\nSkip, hop, drip, drop\nFlip, flop with the white tube sock\nIt goes, \"Sherm sticks, burn this\"\nThat's what the product smell like when the chemicals mix\n50-nigga salute, out the Compton zoo, with the extras\nEl Co's, Monte Carlos, Road Kings, and dressers\nRip Ridaz, P-Funkers, Mexicans, they fuck with you\nAsians, they fuck with you, nobody can fuck with you\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nI been A-1 since day one, you niggas boo-boo\nYour homeboy, your block that you're from, boo-boo\nLil' hoes you went to school with, boo-boo\nBaby mama and your new bitch, boo-boo\nWe was in the hood, fourteen with the deuce-deuce\nFourteen years later, going hard like we used to\nOn the dead homies\nOn the dead homies\nHopped out the Caddy, just got my dick sucked\nThe little homies called and said, \"The enemies done cliqued up\"\nOh, yeah? Puto want to squabble with mi barrio?\nOh, yeah? Tell 'em they can run it for the cardio\nOh, yeah? Everything is everything, it's scandalous\nSlow motion for the ambulance, the project filled with cameras\nThe LAPD gamblin', scramblin', football numbers slanderin'\nNiggas' names on paper\u2014you snitched all summer\nStreets don't fail me now\nThey tell me it's a new gang in town\nFrom Compton to Congress\nSet-trippin' all around\nAin't nothin' new but a flu of new Demo-Crips and Re-Blood-icans\nRed state versus a blue state\u2014which one you governin'?\nThey give us guns and drugs, call us thugs, make it they promise to fuck with you\nNo condom, they fuck with you, Obama say, \"What it do?\"\nObama say, \"What it do?\"\nObama say, \"What it do?\"\nObama say, \"What it do?\"\n\nI been A-1 since day one, you niggas boo-boo\nYour homeboy, your block that you're from, boo-boo\nLil' hoes you went to school with, boo-boo\nBaby mama and your new bitch, boo-boo\nWe was in the hood, fourteen with the deuce-deuce\nFourteen years later, going hard like we used to\nOn the dead homies\nOn the dead homies\n\nEverybody want to talk about who this and who that\nWho the realest and who wack, or who white or who black\nCritics want to mention that they miss when hip-hop was rappin'\nMotherfucker, if you did, then Killer Mike'd be platinum\nY'all priorities fucked up, put energy in wrong shit\nHennessy and Crown Vic, my memory been gone since\nDon't ask about no camera blocking at award shows\nNo, don't ask about my bitch, no, don't ask about my Vogues\n'Less you askin' me about power, yeah, I got a lot of it\nI'm the only nigga next to Snoop that can push the button\nHad the Coast on standby\n\"K. Dot, what up? I heard they opened up Pandora's box\"\nI box 'em all in, by a landslide\nNah, homie, we too sensitive, it spill out to the streets\nI make the call and get the Coast involved, then history repeats\nBut I resolved inside that private hall while sitting down with Jay\nHe said, \"It's funny how one verse could fuck up the game\"\nI been A-1 since day one, you niggas boo-boo\nI remember you was conflicted\nMisusing your influence\nSometimes I did the same\nAbusing my power full of resentment\nResentment that turned into a deep depression\nFound myself screaming in a hotel room\nI didn't want to self-destruct\nThe evils of Lucy was all around me\nSo I went running for answers\nUntil I came home\nBut that didn't stop survivors guilt\nGoing back and forth\nTrying to convince myself the stripes I earned\nOr maybe how A-1 my foundation was\nBut while my loved ones was fighting a continuous war\nBack in the city\nI was entering a new one"}
{"text":"Ain't nobody prayin' for me\n(Ain't nobody prayin' for me)\n(Ain't nobody prayin' for me)\nAin't nobody prayin' for me\n(Nobody prayin' for me)\nAin't nobody prayin' for me\n(Ain't nobody prayin' for me)\n(Nobody prayin' for me)\n\nI feel like a chip on my shoulders\nI feel like I'm losin' my focus\nI feel like I'm losin' my patience\nI feel like my thoughts in the basement\nFeel like, I feel like you're miseducated\nFeel like I don't wanna be bothered\nI feel like you may be the problem\nI feel like it ain't no tomorrow, fuck the world\nThe world is endin', I'm done pretendin'\nAnd fuck you if you get offended\nI feel like friends been overrated\nI feel like the family been fakin'\nI feel like the feelings are changin'\nFeel like my thought of compromise is jaded\nFeel like you wanna scrutinize how I made it\nFeel like I ain't feelin' you all\nFeel like removin' myself, no feelings involved\nI feel for you, I've been in the field for you\nIt's real for you, right? Shit, I feel like\u2014\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nAin't nobody prayin' for me\nAin't nobody prayin' for me\nAin't nobody prayin' for me\nAin't nobody prayin'\n\nI feel niggas been out of pocket\nI feel niggas tappin' they pockets\nI feel like debatin' on who the greatest can stop it\nI am legend, I feel like all of y'all is peasants\nI feel like all of y'all is desperate\nI feel like all it take is a second to feel like\nMike Jordan whenever holdin' a real mic\nI ain't feelin' your presence\nFeel like I'ma learn you a lesson\nFeel like only me and the music though\nI feel like your feelin' ain't mutual\nI feel like the enemy you should know\nFeel like the feelin' of no hope\nThe feelin' of bad dope\nA quarter ounce manipulated from soap\nThe feelin', the feelin' of false freedom\nI'll force-feed 'em the poison that fill 'em up in the prison\nI feel like it's just me\nLook, I feel like I can't breathe\nLook, I feel like I can't sleep\nLook, I feel heartless, often off this\nFeelin' of fallin', of fallin' apart with\nDarkest hours, lost it\nFillin' the void of bein' employed with ballin'\nStreets is talkin', fill in the blanks with coffins\nFill up the banks with dollars\nFill up the graves with fathers\nFill up the babies with bullshit\nInternet blogs and pulpit, fill 'em with gossip\nI feel like this gotta be the feelin' where 'Pac was\nThe feelin' of an apocalypse happenin'\nBut nothin' is awkward, the feelin' won't prosper\nThe feelin' is toxic, I feel like I'm boxin' demons\nMonsters, false prophets schemin'\nSponsors, industry promises\nNiggas, bitches, honkies, crackers, Compton\nChurch, religion, token blacks in bondage\nLawsuit visits, subpoena served in concert\nFuck your feelings, I mean this for imposters\nI can feel it, the phoenix sure to watch us\nI can feel it, the dream is more than process\nI can put a regime that forms a Loch Ness\nI can feel it, the scream that haunts all logic\nI feel like sayin' somethin', I feel like takin' somethin'\nI feel like skatin' off, I feel like waitin' for 'em\nMaybe it's too late for 'em\nI feel like the whole world want me to pray for 'em\nBut who the fuck prayin' for me?\nAin't nobody prayin' for me\nWho prayin' for me?\nAin't nobody prayin'"}
{"text":"Lord God, I come to you a sinner\nAnd I humbly repent for my sins\nI believe that Jesus is Lord\nI believe that You raised him from the dead\nI would ask that Jesus come to my life\nAnd be my Lord and Savior\nI receive Jesus to take control of my life\nAnd that I may live for him from this day forth\nThank you, Lord Jesus, for saving me with your precious blood\nIn Jesus' name, amen\n\nI met her at this house party on El Segundo and Central\nShe had the credentials of strippers in Atlanta\nAss came with a hump, from the jump she was a camel\nI want to ride like Arabians, push an '04 Mercedes-Benz\n\"Hello, my name is Kendrick,\" she said, \"No, you're handsome\"\nWhispered in my ear, disappeared, then found her dancin'\nCiara had played in the background\nThe parade music we made had us all wearin' shades now, cool\n\"Where you stay?\" She said, \"Down the street from Dominguez High\"\nOkay, I know that's borderline Compton or Paramount\n\"Well, is it Compton?\" \"No,\" she replied\nThen quickly start battin' her eyes\nI strictly had wanted her thighs around me\nSeventeen with nothin' but pussy stuck on my mental\nMy motive was rather sinful, \"What you tryna get into?\"\nShe didn't tell, just gave me her Nextel\nDropped the number, we chirped the whole summer, and, well\nThe summer had passed, and now I'm likin' her\nConversation we havin' probably enticin' her\nWho can imagine? Maybe my actions'll end up wifin' her\nLove or lust, regardless, we'll fuck 'cause the trife in us\nIt's deep-rooted, the music of bein' young and dumb\nIs never muted, in fact, it's much louder where I'm from\nWe know a lot 'bout each other, her mother was a crack addict\nShe live with her granny and her younger two brothers\nHer favorite cousin Demetrius is irrepetible\nFamily history of gangbangin' did make me skeptical\nBut not enough to stop me from gettin' a nut\n\"I wanna come over, what's up?\"\nThat's what I told her soon as this episode\nOf Martin go off, I'm tryna get off\nI was in heat like a cactus\nMy tactics of bein' thirsty probably could hurt me\nBut fuck it, I got some heart\nGrabbed my mama keys, hopped in the car, then, oh boy\nSo now I'm down Rosecrans in a Caravan\nPassin' Alameda, my gas meter in need of a pump\nI got enough to get me through the traffic jam\nAt least I hope, 'cause my pockets broke as a promise, man\nI'm thinkin' 'bout that sex\nThinkin' 'bout her thighs or maybe kissin' on her neck or maybe what position's next\nSent a picture of her titties, blowin' up my texts\nI looked at 'em and almost ran my front bumper into Corvette\nEnthused by the touch of a woman, she's a masseuse\nAnd I'm a professional pornstar when off the Goose\nI had a fifth in the trunk like Curtis Jackson for ransom\nI'm hopin' to get her loose like an Uncle Luke anthem\nI'm two blocks away, two hundred and fifty feet\nAnd six steps from where she stay, she wavin' me 'cross the street\nI pulled up, a smile on my face, and then I see\nTwo niggas, two black hoodies, I froze as my phone rang\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nPlease leave your message for three-two-three\nRecord your message after the tone\nKendrick, where you at?\nDamn, I'm sittin' here waitin' on my van\nYou told me you was gon' be back in fifteen minutes\nMan, I gotta go up to the county buildin', man, these kids ready to eat\nI'm ready to eat, shit\nI gotta get them food stamps, come on now\nYou on your way or what?\nI hope you ain't out there messin' with them damn hoodrats out there, shit\n'Specially that lil' crazy-ass girl Sherane\nAnd plus you got school tomorrow\nYou keep fuckin' around in them streets, you ain't gon' pass to the next grade\nEleventh grade\n(Is that Kendrick on the phone?)\nYour daddy callin' about some damn dominoes (Let me holler at him)\nHe want to holler at you too, go ahead, Kenny, go'n, shit\nHello? Yak, where my motherfuckin' dominoes at?\n(Kenny), What?\nI'm on his voicemail, damn fool (Oh), shit\nYak, where my motherfuckin' dominoes at?\nThis the second time I asked you to bring my fuckin' dominoes\nJust give me the damn phone, shit, don't hang up, damn, let me\nKendrick, when you get this message, man, call me back (Keep losin' my goddamn dominoes, we gon' have to go in the backyard)\nI need to know when you gon' bring back my damn car (And squab, homie)\nThis man fussin' 'bout some damn dominoes\nIt ain't all that serious, fuck, damn dominoes\nShit, I'ma miss my damn appointment, fuck\nFuck some damn dominoes, nobody wanna hear that\nNobody wanna hear your ass\nMatter fact, cut my motherfuckin' oldies back on\nYou killin' my motherfuckin' vibe"}
{"text":"I need some water\nSomething came over me\nWay too hot to simmer down, might as well overheat\nToo close to comfort\nAs blood rush my favorite vein\nHeartbeat racing like a junkie's\nI just need you to want me\nAm I asking too much?\nLet me put the head in\nOoh, I don't want more than that; girl, I respect the cat\nI promise, just a touch\nLet me put the head in\nIf it's okay; she said, \"It's okay\"\n\nYeah, I need everybody's motherfuckin' hands up right now\nI need everybody's motherfuckin'\u2014\nDoor and his Nike Air Rattles\nRush the fire exit, no time for battles\nWell I, I never expected\nThis that new shit\nThis that new, new shit\n\nWake up in the mornin', thinkin' 'bout money, kick your feet up\nWatch you a comedy, take a shit, then roll some weed up\nGo hit you a lick, go fuck on a bitch\nDon't go to work today, cop you a fit\nOr maybe some kicks and make you\u2014\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nDoor and his Nike Air Rattles\nRush the fire exit, no time for battles\nWell I, I never expected\n\nWake up in the morning, thinking 'bout money, kick your feet up\nWatch you a comedy\u2014hol' up\nWake up in the mornin', thinkin' 'bout money, kick your feet up\nWatch you a comedy, take a shit, then roll some weed up\nGo hit you a lick, go fuck on a bitch, don't go to work today\nCop you a fit or maybe some kicks and make it work today\nHang with the homies, stunt on your baby mama\nSip some lean, go get a pistol, shoot out the window\nBet your favorite team, play you some Madden\nGo to the club or your mama house\nWhatever you doing, just make it count (I need some water)\nWake up in the morning, thinking 'bout money, kick your feet up\nHop in the shower, put on your makeup, lace your weave up\nTouch on yourself, call up your nigga, tell him he ain't shit\nCredit card scam, get you a Visa, make it pay your rent\nHop on the 'Gram, flex on the bitches that be hatin' on you\nPop you a pill, call up your bitches, have 'em waitin' on you\nGo to the club, have you some fun, make that ass bounce\nIt's whatever, just make it count\nI need some water\nSomething came over me\nWay too hot to simmer down, might as well overheat\nToo close to comfort\nAs blood rush my favorite vein\nHeartbeat racing like a junkie's\nI just need you to want me\nAm I asking too much?\nLet me put the head in\nOoh, I don't want more than that; girl, I respect the cat\nI promise, just a touch\nLet me put the head in\nIf it's okay; she said, \"It's okay\"\nI wake in the morning, my head spinning from the last night\nBoth in a trance, feelings are dead\u2014what a fast life\nManager called, the lobby call is 11:30\nDid this before, promised myself I'd be a hour early\nRoom full of clothes, bag full of money: call it loose change\nFumbled my jewelry, 100K, I lost a new chain\nHop on the bird, hit the next city for another M\nTake me a nap then do it again\nWe all woke up, tryna tune to the daily news\nLooking for confirmation, hoping election wasn't true\nAll of us worried, all of us buried, in our feelings deep\nNone of us married to his proposal, make us feel cheap\nStale and sad, distraught and mad, tell the neighbor 'bout it\u2014\nBet they agree, parade the streets with your voice proudly\nTime passing, things change\nReverting back to our daily programs, stuck in our ways\nLust\nLately, I feel like I been lusting over the fame\nLately, we lust on the same routine of shame\nLately (Lately) Lately, my lust been heightened (Lately)\nLately, it's all contradiction (Lately, I'm not here)\nLately, I lust over self (Lust turn into fear)\nLately, in James 4:4 says\n\"Friend of the world is enemy of the Lord\"\nBrace yourself: Lust is all yours\n\nI need some water\nSomething came over me\nWay too hot to simmer down, might as well overheat\nToo close to comfort\nAs blood rush my favorite vein\nHeartbeat racing like a junkie's\nI just need you to want me\nAm I asking too much?\nLet me put the head in\nOoh, I don't want more than that; girl, I respect the cat\nI promise, just a touch\nLet me put the head in\nIf it's okay; she said, \"It's okay\""}
{"text":"\n(Smokin' weed with you\n'Cause you've taught me to\nSmokin' weed with you\n'Cause you've taught me to)\nEvery morning when I wake up, uh\nMoney on my mind, good time to get caked up, uh\nSunshine coming through my blinds, I\u2019m living, but\nReally though, it's never enough, ten million, that's a must\nLiving in California, everybody wanna visit for\nWomen, weed and weather\nThey come for women, weed and weather\nFor the women, weed and weather\nFrom all around the world for the women, weed and weather\nThese niggas'll kill for that, put it in your grill for that\nStill everybody gotta build for that, me? I make mills off that\nHow the fuck y'all can't see I ride, when I drive\nDown the block and you look outside\nH-A-T-E in your eyes, I enter big money for the enterprise\nIt's a beautiful day, I guess, for a bitch to roll with Andre, I guess\nRoll it up, baby, come and lift that dress\nThen roll it up for me when I'm stressed\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nYou might catch me in Atlanta looking like a boss\nNew Orleans and then Miami, party in New York\nTexas, I be screwed up, Chi-Town, I be really pimpin'\nBut nothing like my hometown, I'm forever livin'\n\nWomen, weed and weather\nThey come for women, weed and weather\nFor the women, weed and weather\nFrom all around the world for the women, weed and weather\nGot that women, weed and weather\nDon't it sound clever? Come and play\nWh-what more can I say? W-welcome to LA\n\nUhh, my nigga said he wanna fly out to get him some\nThree W's only for a three-day run, bitch\nTake them mothafuckin' panties off, you ain't no nun, shit\nI be living in the sky every time I ride by them hoes\n\"Ribbon In The Sky\" on the radio 'cause Stevie know I control\nLet it breathe, I control, California living 'til I am old\nYou want to be on to peak on the charts\nSo the peons can be gone and pee on their hearts\nShe in the coupe, she in the Neon\n'Cause she on the BS before we can start\nFuck with a nigga, ride with a nigga\nLet 'em know I'm priority, order me\nHennessy and, for my niggas, OG Killa\nCall it Jason Voorhees, boy, he's on his job\nBoy, he sure be having the marks on they mark\nPretty bitches and tire marks, let 'em inhale them pipe exhausts\nLet 'em reveal how much it cost for this life, controlling my price?\nNo way, hell no, uh-uh\nIf I'm wrong, I don't wanna be right\nWe want to be on to peak on the charts\nSo the peons can be gone and pee on their hearts\nWomen, weed, weather, it's not my fault\nThat it's 82 degrees and my top peeled off\nYou might catch me in Atlanta looking like a boss\nNew Orleans and then Miami, party in New York\nTexas, I be screwed up, Chi-Town, I be really pimpin'\nBut nothing like my hometown, I'm forever livin'\n\nWomen, weed and weather\nThey come for women, weed and weather\nFor the women, weed and weather\nFrom all around the world for the women, weed and weather\nGot that women, weed and weather\nDon't it sound clever? Come and play\nWh-what more can I say? W-welcome to LA\n\nKnown for that homegrown where I come from\nSmoke one, palm trees, double D's got 'em topless in the sun\nI shall proceed, that's me, mothafuck your opinion\nHuh, how many ways am I killing 'em? Shit, right around a billion\nWe on it, that mean we living for the moment\nThat mean she'll fuck 'til the morning, time and I got time\nAnd I know that I'm in a position of controlling\nAnything out by that ocean\nI'm a boss, I'll buy that ocean, ain't nobody fucking with this\nThey want that shit, they often fiend\nI give it to 'em, but in between\nMy time, I gotta tie shoestrings\nLife's a trip when you want these things\nI often slip and then I lean\nToward three W's in life\nYou know blow job need an application\nEating pussy make appetite\nAnd yeah, my type, I like 'em brown\nJust like my drink, the fuck you think?\nI don't fuck with no hand-me-downs\nSee if you fuck, then it's after me\nYou know how much I'ma make it work?\nYou know her dress livin' in her purse\nWhen you discuss your love for lust\nJust make sure you visit here first: Cali\n\nYou might catch me in Atlanta looking like a boss\nNew Orleans and then Miami, party in New York\nTexas, I be screwed up, Chi-Town, I be really pimpin'\nBut nothing like my hometown, I'm forever livin'\n\nWomen, weed and weather\nThey come for women, weed and weather\nFor the women, weed and weather\nFrom all around the world for the women, weed and weather\nGot that women, weed and weather\nDon't it sound clever? Come and play\nWh-what more can I say? W-welcome to LA\n\n(Smokin' weed with you\nIn the leaves, in the fall\nI smoke with you\n'Cause you've taught me to\nSmokin' weed with you\nIn the leaves, in the fall\nI smoke with you\n'Cause you've taught me to\nSmokin' weed with you\n'Cause you've taught me to\nSmokin' weed with you\n'Cause you've taught me to\nSmokin' weed with you\n'Cause you've taught me to\nSmokin' weed with you\n'Cause you've taught me to\nSmokin' weed with you\n'Cause you've taught me to\nSmokin' weed with you\n'Cause you've taught me to\nSmokin' weed with you)"}
{"text":"Pimp-pimp (Hooray)\nPimp-pimp (Hooray)\n(Hooray)\nPimp-pimp (Hooray)\nPimp-pimp\n\nI'm sick and tired of being tired\nCan't pick a side, the Gemini\nProphesize if we live or not\nPromise momma not to fear nobody\nSeen black turn 'em Burgundy\nHundred of them, I know I'm greedy\nStuck inside the belly of the beast\nCan you please pray for me?\n\nGet God on the phone\nSaid it won't be long\nI see jigaboos, I see Styrofoams\nMy hood going brazy\nWhere did we go wrong?\nI see jigaboos, I see Styrofoams\nGet Top on the phone\nTell the squad come home\nWe gon' ball again 'fore he call us home\nWorld is going brazy, where did we go wrong?\nIt's a tidal wave, it's a thunderdome\nGet God on the phone\nI just got a raise (I just got a raise)\nSpent it all on me (I spent it all on me)\nDiamonds all appraised (Diamonds all appraised)\nAnd I'm bossing up (And I'm bossing up)\nBitch, get out the way (Bitch, get out the way)\nI'm the only way, we can fornicate\nAh, pimping and posing, look what I drove in, ah\nHaving these hoes and I know that I'm chosen, ah\nI live by the code and me and my bros and, ah\nMy dollars ain't foldin', you was never the homie\n\nSeen black turn 'em Burgundy\nHundred of them, I know I'm greedy\nStuck inside the belly of the beast\nCan you please pray for me?\n\nGet God on the phone\nSaid it won't be long\nI see jigaboos, I see Styrofoams\nMy hood going brazy\nWhere did we go wrong?\nI see jigaboos, I see Styrofoams\nGet Top on the phone\n(What's up, my nigga?)\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nCornrow Kenny, he was born with a vision\nAll morning with the mixed dashboards, triple digits\nParallel park like an alien came visit\nSlideshow for the night show, ten bitches\nFind hoes with a blindfold, King Kendrick\n(Hello, Billy)\nSo many plays, homie, I finesse\nPalisade views with some sex\nI lost a lot of love for missionary\nThis the first time I confess\nMe and Top is like a Kobe and Phil\nA father figure fuck with him, you get killed\nFuck with me and he will kill you himself\nTDE the mafia of the west\nMove in silence, yeah, we juggin\u2019 like that\nAct of violence, yeah, we juggin\u2019 like that\nI did a lot of dumb shit in my past\nLord forgive me, hoping I don't relapse\nDave just bought a new 911\nAlmost thought I\u2019d seen another plane crash\nQ just bought a brand new McLaren\nRock-a-lack about to buy the projects\nMoosa got his son dripping in gold\nAli 'bout to let his hair down on hoes\nMe, I'm 'bout to let my hair down on hoes\nTop billin', that\u2019s a million a show\nMight blow the whole no whammy on Soul\nMight tell Obama be more like Punch\nSounwave caught a Grammy last year\nMack wop, bet he do what he want\nFuck you niggas, level two, I'm not done\n2Teez told me that I'm the one\nI can put a rapper on life support\nGuarantee that's something none of you want\nTen homies down and they all serving life\nWhat is like twenty-five hundred a month?\nWhat if I empty my bank out and stunt?\nWhat if I certified all of these ones?\nBitch, I get buck, I'm as real as they come\nShit is amazing, I'm feeding my cravings\nYou know that you want me, come here now, lil' baby\nI'm fuckin', I'm crazy\nServing it like I belong in the basement\nOr live at the Days Inn\nYan Yan my relative, black cherry soda\nPistol and poverty, come get to know us\n(Get Top on the phone)\nWho doing the drums?\nMan put that nigga on the drums man\nYep, all day, \"Mortal Man\" and \"Kunta\"\nAlright, from the top"}
{"text":"Hello, new world, all the boys and girls\nI got some true stories to tell\nYou're back outside, but they still lied\nWoah-oh-oh-oh (Yeah)\n\nTake off the foo-foo, take off the clout chase, take off the Wi-Fi\nTake off the money phone, take off the car loan, take off the flex and the white lies\nTake off the weird-ass jewelry, I'ma take ten steps, then I'm taking off top five\nTake off them fabricated streams and them microwave memes, it's a real world outside (Take that shit off)\nTake off your idols, take off the runway, I take off to Cairo (Take that shit off)\nTake off to Saint-Tropez, five-day stay, take a quarter mill', hell, if I know (Take that shit off)\nTake off the front flag, take off perception, take off the cop with the eye patch (Take that shit off)\nTake off the unloyal, take off the unsure, take off decisions I lack (Take it off)\nTake off the fake deep, take off the fake woke, take off the, \"I'm broke, I care\" (Take it off)\nTake off the gossip, take off the new logic that if I'm rich, I'm rare (Take it off)\nTake off the Chanel, take off the Dolce, take off the Birkin bag\n(Take it off)\nTake all that designer bullshit off, and what do you have?\n\nBitch, huh, huh, ugh\nYou ugly as fuck (You outta pocket)\nHuh, two ATMs (Hah, hah, hah, hah)\nYou steppin' or what? (You outta pocket, huh)\nWho you think they talk about?\nTalk about us (You outta pocket\u2014shoot, shoot, shoot)\nWho you think they copy off? (Brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt)\nCopy off us (Get back in pocket)\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nThe world in a panic, the women is stranded, the men on a run\nThe prophets abandoned, the law take advantage, the market is crashin', the industry wants\nNiggas and bitches to sleep in a box while they makin' a mockery followin' us\nThis ain't Monopoly, watchin' for love, this ain't monogamy, y'all gettin' fucked\nJumpin' on what the hell is that? I gotta relax when I feel (Huh, facts)\nAll my descendants, they come in my sleep and say I am too real (Huh, facts)\nI'm done with the sensitive, takin' it personal, done with the black and the white, the wrong and the right\nYou hopin' for change and clericals, I know the feelings that came with burial's cries\n\nBitch, huh, huh, ugh\nYou ugly as fuck (You outta pocket)\nHuh, two ATMs (Hah, hah, hah, hah)\nYou steppin' or what? (You outta pocket, huh)\nWho you think they talk about?\nTalk about us (You outta pocket\u2014shoot, shoot, shoot)\nWho you think they copy off? (Brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt)\nCopy off us\n\nServin' up a look, dancin' in a drought\nHello to the big stepper, never losin' count\nVentin' in the safe house\nVentin' in the sa\u2014\nCan I vent all my truth? I got nothin' to lose, I got problems and pools, I can swim on my faith\nCameras movin' whenever I'm movin', the family suin' whatever I make\nMurder is stackin', the president actin', the government taxin' my funds in the bank\nHomies attracting the feds when I'm bracking, look at my reaction, my pupils on skates (Hold up, hold up)\nLet's think about this for a second (Let's go)\nTell me what you would do for aesthetic (Let's go)\nWould you sell your soul on credit? (Let's go)\nWould you sell your bro for leverage? (Let's go)\nWhere the hypocrites at?\nWhat community feel they the only ones relevant? (Let's go)\nWhere the hypocrites at?\nWhat community feel they the only ones relevant? (Let's go)\n\nHuh, huh, ugh\nYou outta pocket, yeah, you outta pocket (This shit hard)\nYou entertain the mediocre, need to stop it (This shit hard)\nYou entertainin' old friends when they toxic (This shit hard)\nWhat your life like? Bullshit and gossip (This shit hard)\nWhat the fuck is cancel culture, dawg?\nSay what I want about you niggas, I'm like Oprah, dawg\nI treat you crackers like I'm Jigga, watch, I own it all\nOh, you worried 'bout a critic? That ain't protocol (Bitch)"}
{"text":"\nFuck you, motherfucker, you a ho-ass nigga\nI don't know why you trying to go big, nigga, you ain't shit\nWalking around like you God's gift to Earth, nigga, you ain't shit\nYou ain't even buy me no outfit for the Fourth\nI need that Brazilian, wavy, twenty-eight inch, you playin'\nI shouldn't be fuckin' with you anyway\nI need a baller-ass, boss-ass nigga\nYou's a off-brand-ass nigga, everybody know it\nYour homies know it, everybody fuckin' know\nFuck you, nigga, don't call me no more\nYou won't know, you gonna lose on a good bitch\nMy other nigga is on, you off\nWhat the fuck is really going on?\nThis dick ain't free\nYou lookin' at me like it ain't a receipt\nLike I never made ends meet\nEating your leftovers and raw meat\nThis dick ain't free\nLivin' in captivity raised my cap salary\nCelery, tellin' me green is all I need\nEvidently, all I seen was Spam and raw sardines\nThis dick ain't free, I mean, baby\nYou really think we could make a baby named Mercedes\nWithout a Mercedes Benz and twenty-four-inch rims\nFive percent tint, and air conditioning vents?\nHell fuckin' naw, this dick ain't free\nI need forty acres and a mule\nNot a forty ounce and a pitbull\nBullshit, matador, matador\nHad the door knockin', let 'em in, who's that?\nGenital's best friend, this dick ain't free\nPity the fool that made the pretty in you prosper\nTitty juice and pussy lips kept me obnoxious\nKept me up watchin' pornos in poverty; apology? No\nWatch you politic with people less fortunate, like myself\nEvery dog has its day, now doggy style shall help\nThis dick ain't free\nMatter of fact, it need interest\nMatter of fact, it's nine inches\nMatter of fact, see our friendship based on business\nPension, more pension, you're pinchin' my percents\nIt's been relentless, fuck forgiveness, fuck your feelings\nFuck your sources, all distortion, if you fuck it's more abortion\nMore divorce courts and portion\nMy check with less endorsement left me dormant\nDusted, doomed, disgusted, forced with\nFuck you think is in more shit?\nPorcelain pipes pressure, bust 'em twice\nChoice is devastated, decapitated the horseman\nOh America, you bad bitch, I picked cotton and made you rich\nNow my dick ain't free\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nI'ma get my Uncle Sam to fuck you up\nYou ain't no king"}
{"text":"New shit, new Kung Fu Kenny\n\nI got so many theories and suspicions\nI'm diagnosed with real nigga conditions\nToday is the day I follow my intuition\nKeep the family close, get money, fuck bitches\nI double-parked the Aston in the red\nMy momma told me that I'ma work myself to death\nMy girl told me don't let these hoes get in my head\nMy world been ecstatic, I checked the signal that read\u2014\n\nBuzzin', radars is buzzin'\nYah, yah, yah, yah\nYah, yah, yah, yah, yah, yah\nBuzzin', radars is buzzin'\nYah, yah, yah, yah\nYah, yah, yah, yah, yah, yah\n\nInterviews wanna know my thoughts and opinions\nFox News wanna use my name for percentage\nMy latest muse is my niece, she worth livin'\nSee me on the TV and scream: \"That's Uncle Kendrick!\"\nYeah, that's the business (Uno)\nSomebody tell Geraldo this nigga got some ambition\nI'm not a politician, I'm not 'bout a religion\nI'm a Israelite, don't call me black no mo'\nThat word is only a color, it ain't facts no mo'\nMy cousin called, my cousin Carl Duckworth\nSaid know my worth\nAnd Deuteronomy say that we all been cursed\nI know He walks the Earth\nBut it's money to get, bitches to hit, yah\nZeroes to flip, temptation is, yah\nFirst on my list, I can't resist, yah\nEveryone together now, know that we forever\u2014\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nBuzzin', radars is buzzin'\nYah, yah, yah, yah\nYah, yah, yah, yah, yah, yah\nBuzzin', radars is buzzin'\nYah, yah, yah, yah\nYah, yah, yah, yah, yah, yah"}
{"text":"What money got to do with it\nWhen I don't know the full definition of a rap image?\nI'm trapped inside the ghetto and I ain't proud to admit it\nInstitutionalized, I keep runnin' back for a visit, hol' up\nGet it back\nI said I'm trapped inside the ghetto and I ain't proud to admit it\nInstitutionalized, I could still kill me a nigga, so what?\n\nIf I was the president\nI'd pay my mama's rent\nFree my homies and them\nBulletproof my Chevy doors\nLay in the White House and get high, Lord\nWhoever thought?\nMaster, take the chains off me!\n\n\nZoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom\nZoom, zoom, zoom\nZoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom\nZoom, zoom, zoom\nZoom, zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom\nZoom, zoom, zoom\nZoom, zoom, zoom, shit\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nLife, to me, like a box of chocolate\nQuid pro quo, somethin' for somethin', that's the obvious\nOh shit, flow's so sick, don't you swallow it\nBitin' my style, you're salmonella poison positive\nI can just alleviate the rap industry politics\nMilk the game up, never lactose intolerant\nThe last remainder of real shit, you know the obvious\nMe, scholarship? No, streets put me through colleges\nBe all you can be, true, but the problem is\nDream only a dream if work don't follow it\nRemind me of the homies that used to know me, now follow this\nI'll tell you my hypothesis, I'm probably just way too loyal\nK Dizzle will do it for you, my niggas think I'm a god\nTruthfully all of 'em spoiled, usually, you're never charged\nBut somethin' came over you once I took you to them fuckin' BET Awards\nYou lookin' at artistses like they're harvestses\nSo many Rollies around you and you want all of 'em\nSomebody told me you thinkin' 'bout snatchin' jewelry\nI should've listened when my grandmama said to me:\n\n\"Shit don't change until you get up and wash yo' ass, nigga\nShit don't change until you get up and wash yo' ass, boy\nShit don't change until you get up and wash yo' ass, nigga\nOh now, slow down\"\nAnd once upon a time, in a city so divine\nCalled West Side Compton, there stood a little nigga\nHe was five-foot somethin', God bless the kid\nTook his homies to the show and this is what they said:\n\"Fuck am I 'posed to do when I'm lookin' at walkin' licks?\nThe constant big money talk 'bout the mansion and foreign whips\nThe private jets and passport, presidential glass floor\nGold bottles, gold models, givin' up the ass for\nInstagram flicks, suckin' dick, fuck is this?\nOne more sucker wavin' with a flashy wrist\nMy defense mechanism tell me to get him\nQuickly because he got it\nIt's a recession, then why the fuck he at King of Diamonds?\nNo more livin' poor, meet my four-four\nWhen I see 'em, put the per diem on the floor\nNow Kendrick, know they're your co-workers\nBut it's gon' take a lot 'fore this pistol go cold turkey\nNow I can watch his watch on the TV and be okay\nBut see I'm on the clock once that watch landin' in LA\nRemember steal from the rich and givin' it back to the poor?\nWell, that's me at these awards\"\nI guess my grandmama was warnin' a boy\nShe said\n\"Shit don't change until you get up and wash yo' ass, nigga\nShit don't change until you get up and wash yo' ass, boy\nShit don't change until you get up and wash yo' ass, nigga\nOh now, slow down\"\n\nAnd once upon a time, in a city so divine\nCalled West Side Compton, there stood a little nigga\nHe was five-foot something, dazed and confused\nTalented but still under the neighborhood ruse\nYou can take your boy out the hood\nBut you can't take the hood out the homie\nTook his show money, stashed it in the mozey wozey\nHollywood's nervous\nFuck you, goodnight, thank you much for your service"}
{"text":"I am a sinner\nWho's prob'ly gonna sin again\nLord, forgive me, Lord, forgive me\nThings I don't understand\nSometimes I need to be alone\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nI can feel your energy from two planets away, I got\nMy drink, I got my music, I would share it, but today I'm yellin'\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe (Uh)\n\nLook inside of my soul and you can find\nGold and maybe get rich\u2014hol' up\nTrinidad Jame$ in four weeks\nBut now my album platinum and shit, so what?\nY'all keep the numbers\nI'm more than another statistic, my nigga\nThis courtesy of Compton (Courtesy of Compton)\nBrooklyn go hard, motherfucker\nLove me on the East like I'm Chuck D\nDominicans wish that I was born there\nI'm lookin' to be the god MC\nYou look at my hat and see thorns there\nI look at the game and see porn there\nI'm fuckin' this industry hard\nI'm bagging this money, tea-bagging your honey\nYou thought I was fresh out the yard\nDon't cry to me dummy, you're a lightweight\nThey tell me you nice and I'm like \"wait\"\nGo get me a knife, you're looking like steak\nAnd when the stakes are high, I stake out for days\nAnd when the water reside, you're Bobby Boucher\nBut we ain't thirsty nigga, never alert me, nigga\nI got a P89 in a suitcase\nI know you heard me, nigga, this is a burpee, nigga\nLyrical exercise, right now, homie, I'm in the extra vibe\nPipe down, on the curb, when you heard that I got these words\nTo the upper echelon, that's excellent (That's excellent)\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nI am a sinner\nWho's prob'ly gonna sin again\nLord, forgive me, Lord, forgive me\nThings I don't understand\nSometimes I need to be alone\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nI can feel your energy from two planets away, I got\nMy drink, I got my music, I would share it, but today I'm yellin'\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nBitch, don't kill my vibe, bitch, don't kill my vibe\nUp in the clouds\nMe and my spouse\nRumors on the ground gettin' too loud\nPlease turn them shits down (Down, down)\nCan't hear myself think\nTurbulence, shit, I almost spilled my drink\nIn the White House with a mink, runnin' through that bitch\nLike it's my house, all up in the hall like a mall\nTold you motherfuckers, all I do is ball\nNo, I don't 'member you, I don't intend to\nEmpty my memory bank\nIt's a million dollars in it, baby, Hilary Swank\nSittin' next to Hillary smellin' like dank\nPresidential pardon, name one nigga out there harder than him\nI'll wait\nI've been in my wave like twenty years straight\nI've been on my vibe like twenty years straight\nDon't fuck up my high (Fuck up my high)\nNights like this, I could fuck up a pie\nStill be straight (Still be straight)\nFall back, bitch, I got a lot on my plate\nDon't waste my breath\nI don't know how many moons a nigga got left\nBack to this joint\nSmokin' this shit like I'm tryna prove a point\nI'm the highest, the highest title, numero uno\nKill my vibe, that's your motherfuckin' funeral\nHahaha\nBetween you and me, turn eulogy to urinals\nNiggas pissed off\nI ministered this generation by far\nLeader of the new school\nOn my toes like a ballerina, who knew I'd be Black Swan?\nWorld in my palms, ironically\nI am the Globetrotters' best 'cause I didn't drop the ball\nTold niggas when I was sixteen that I'd write a sixteen\nTo put a nigga right on the big screen\nIn the paddy wagon with six teens\nShoulda been in the pen but now my pen writin' with morphine\nI heal niggas, touch down with more fiends\nI kill niggas, audio crack, khakis to meal ticket\nCardio lap, was running for dear life\nBut now I'm running the map, bitch, I'm here nigga\nPicture lil' ole me giving a fuck for what a fuck nigga gotta say\nNigga, you never be Jay, never be Nas, never be Snoop nor Dre\nYou ain't get killed in Vegas or in a Suburban\nNigga, Puff Daddy wasn't your favorite\nSo many washed up with detergent\nBut I don't dry tears, I just aim at them on purpose\nLike blah, Mini-14 like blah\nEmpty out another magazine like blah\nLet a young nigga get by (Doot!)\nI kill 'em all when they try to kill my vibe (Doot! Doot!)\nI am the bad, the good god, the last the hood got\nThe last that would try to pass a good job\nIf Shawn's a black Beatle then I need a 10-second drum solo\nBitch see you at Woodstock, ah!"}
{"text":"Is it wickedness?\nIs it weakness?\nYou decide\nAre we gonna live or die?\n\nSo I was takin' a walk the other day\nAnd I seen a woman\u2014a blind woman\nPacin' up and down the sidewalk\nShe seemed to be a bit frustrated\nAs if she had dropped somethin' and\nHavin' a hard time findin' it\nSo after watchin' her struggle for a while\nI decide to go over and lend a helping hand, you know?\n\"Hello, ma'am, can I be of any assistance?\nIt seems to me that you have lost something\nI would like to help you find it\"\nShe replied, \"Oh, yes, you have lost something\nYou've lost\u2026 your life\"\n*Gunshot*\n\nIs it wickedness?\n\nLamar stated his views on police brutality\nWith that line in the song, quote\n\"And we hate the popo, wanna kill us in the street fo' sho'\"\nOh, please, ugh, I don't like itSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like"}
{"text":"As I get a little older, I realize life is perspective\nAnd my perspective may differ from yours\nI wanna say thank you to everyone that's been down with me\nAll my fans, all\u205fmy\u205fbeautiful\u205ffans\nAnyone who's ever\u205fgave me a\u205flisten, all my people\n\nI come from a generation of pain, where murder is minor\nRebellious and Margielas'll chip you for designer\nBelt buckles and clout, overzealous if prone to violence\nMake the wrong turn, be it will or the wheel alignment\nResidue burned, mist of the inner-city\nMiscommunication to keep homi' detective busy\nNo protection is risky\nDesensitized, I vandalized pain, covered up and camouflaged\nGet used to hearin' arsenal rain\nAnalyze, risk your life, take the charge\nHomies done fucked your baby mama once you hit the yard\nThat's culture\nTwenty-three hour lockdown, then somebody called\nSaid your lil' nephew was shot down, the culture's involved\nI done seen niggas do seventeen, hit the halfway house\nGet out and get his brains blown out, lookin' to buy some weed\nCar wash is played out, new GoFundMe accounts'll proceed\nA brand-new victim'll shatter those dreams\nThe culture\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\n(I want, I want, I want, I want)\nBut I want you to want me too (I want, I want, I want, I want)\nI want the hood to want me back (I want, I want, I want, I want)\nI want the hood\nLook what I done for you (Look what I done for you)\nLook what I done for you\n\nI said I do this for my culture\nTo let y'all know what a nigga look like in a bulletproof Rover\nIn my mama's sofa was a doo-doo popper\nHair trigger, walk up closer, ain't no Photoshoppin'\nFriends bipolar, grab you by your pockets\nNo option if you froze up, always play the offense\nNiggas goin' to work and sellin' work, late for work\nWorkin' late, prayin' for work, but he on paperwork\nThat's the culture, point the finger, promote ya\nRemote location, witness protection, they gon' hold ya\nThe streets got me fucked up, y'all can miss me\nI wanna represent for us\nNew revolution was up and movin'\nI'm in Argentina wiping my tears, full of confusion\nWater in between us, another peer's been executed\nHistory repeats again\nMake amends, then find a nigga with the same skin to do it\nBut that's the culture, crack a bottle\nHard to deal with the pain when you're sober\nBy tomorrow, we forget the remains, we start over\nThat's the problem\nOur foundation was trained to accept whatever follows\nDehumanized, insensitive\nScrutinize the way we live for you and I\nEnemies shook my hand, I can promise I'll meet you\nIn the land where no equal is your equal\nNever say I ain't told ya, nah\nIn the land where hurt people hurt more people\nFuck callin' it culture\n(I want, I want, I want, I want)\nBut I want you to want me too (I want, I want, I want, I want)\nI want the hood to want me back (I want, I want, I want, I want)\nI want the hood\nLook what I done for you (Look what I done for you)\nLook what I done for you\n\nTake the drums out\n\nCelebrate new life when it come back around\nThe purpose is in the lessons we learnin' now\nSacrifice personal gain over everything\nJust to see the next generation better than ours\nI wasn't perfect, the skin I was in had truly suffered\nTemptation, impatience, everything that the body nurtures\nI felt the good, I felt the bad, and I felt the worry\nBut all-in-all, my productivity had stayed urgent\nFace your fears, always knew that I would make it here\nWhere the energy is magnified and persevered\nConsciousness is synchronized and crystal-clear\nEuphoria is glorified and made His\nReflectin' on my life and what I done\nPaid dues, made rules, change outta love\nThem same views made schools change curriculums\nBut didn't change me starin' down the barrel of the gun\nShould I feel resentful I didn't see my full potential?\nShould I feel regret about the good that I was into?\nEverything is everything, this ain't coincidental\nI woke up that morning with more heart to give you\nAs I bleed through the speakers, feel my presence\nTo my brother, to my kids, I'm in Heaven\nTo my mother, to my sis, I'm in Heaven\nTo my father, to my wife, I am serious, this is Heaven\nTo my friends, make sure you countin' them blessings\nTo my fans, make sure you make them investments\nAnd to the killer that sped up my demise\nI forgive you, just know your soul's in question\nI seen the pain in your pupil when that trigger had squeezed\nAnd though you did me gruesome, I was surely relieved\nI completed my mission, wasn't ready to leave\nBut fulfilled my days, my Creator was pleased\nI can't stress how I love y'all\nI don't need to be in flesh just to hug y'all\nThe memories recollect just because y'all\nCelebrate me with respect\nThe unity we protect is above all\nAnd Sam, I'll be watchin' over you\nMake sure my kids watch all my interviews\nMake sure you live out our dreams we produced\nKeep that genius in your brain on the move\nAnd to my neighborhood, let the good prevail\nMake sure them babies and the leaders outta jail\nLook for salvation when troubles get real\n'Cause you can't help the world until you help yourself\nAnd I can't blame the hood the day that I was killed\nY'all had to see it, that's the only way to feel\nAnd though my physical won't reap the benefits\nThe energy that carry on emits still\nI want you"}
{"text":"\nI do what I wanna do\nI say what I wanna say, when I feel, and I\nLook in the mirror and know I'm there\nWith my hands in the air, I'm proud to say yeah\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\n\nI promise that I know you very well\nYour eyes never lie, even if they tell\nSweet lullabies that come with a smell\nOf a dozen roses flipping down the green hill\nYou're living in a world that come with plan B\n'Cause plan A never relay a guarantee\nAnd plan C never could say just what it was\nAnd your plans only can pan around love\nYou love him, you love them, you love her\nYou love so much, you love when love hurts\nYou love red bottom and gold that say \"Queen\"\nYou love hand-bag on the waist of your jean\nYou love French tip and trip that pay for\nYou love bank slip that tell you we paid more\nYou love a good hand whenever the card dealt\nBut what love got to do with it when you don't love yourself?\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nI do what I wanna do\nI say what I wanna say, when I feel, and I\nLook in the mirror and know I'm there\nWith my hands in the air, I'm proud to say yeah\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, ('Cause before you know it, everything's gone)\n\nI promise that I know you very well\nYour eyes never lie, even if they fell\nOut the sky and your optics turn stale\nWhere they mold that's green, I can see you fit the bill\nOf living in a world that come with plan B\n'Cause plan A only can make another mistake\nAnd you can't see success coming from plan C\nWhen it all breaks, you'll still say you're lovely\nAnd love them and love when you love her\nYou love so much, you love when love hurts\nYou love fast cars and dead presidents old\nYou love fast women, you love keepin' control\nOf everything that you love, you love beef\nYou love streets, you love running, ducking police\nYou love your hood, might even love it to death\nBut what love got to do with it when you don't love yourself?\nI do what I wanna do\nI say what I wanna say, when I feel, and I\nLook in the mirror and know I'm there\nWith my hands in the air, I'm proud to say yeah\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real ('Cause before you know it, everything's gone)\nThe reason why I know you very well\n'Cause we have the same eyes, can't you tell?\nThe days I tried to cover up and conceal\nMy pride, it only made it harder for me to deal\nWhen living in a world that come with plan B\nA scapegoat 'cause plan A don't come free\nAnd plan C just an excuse like \"because\"\nOr the word \"but,\" but what if I got love?\nI love them, I love when I love her\nI love so much, I love when love hurts\nI love first verse 'cause you're the girl I attract\nI love second verse 'cause you're the homie that pack\nBurner like a stove top, that love cooking from scratch\nI love what the both of you have to offer\nIn fact, I love it so much, I don't love anything else\nBut what love got to do with it when I don't love myself\nTo the point I should hate everything I do love?\nShould I hate living my life inside the club?\nShould I hate her for watching me for that reason?\nShould I hate him for telling me that I'm seizin'?\nShould I hate them for telling me \"ball out\"?\nShould I hate street credibility I'm talkin' about\nHating all money, power, respect in my will\nOr hating the fact none of that shit make me real?\nKenny, I ain't trippin' off them dominoes anymore. Just calling, sorry to hear what happened to your homeboy, but don't learn the hard way like I did, homie. Any nigga can kill a man, that don't make you a real nigga. Real is responsibility. Real is taking care of your motherfucking family. Real is God, nigga\n\nI do what I wanna do\nI say what I wanna say, when I feel, and I\nLook in the mirror and know I'm there\nWith my hands in the air, I'm proud to say yeah\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real, I'm really, really, real\nI'm real, I'm real ('Cause before you know it, everything's gone)\n\nAlright, that's all I wanted to tell you. Just make sure you call us back when you get this message. Here go your mom\nBoy, you better have my car on full all this time you done had my damn car, but look I ain't trippin'. Look, the neighbors say they seen you and your little friends over there by Food for Less and they was preaching to you over there telling you about the good book because right about now that's what y'all need. Oh, and Top Dawg called the house too. I guess they want you and Dave to come to the studio. But look, you take that music business serious, and put out something me and your dad can step to. Shit, you know we from Chicago, you know that's what we do\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\nSing my song, it's all for you\n\n\"If I don't hear from you by tomorrow, I hope you come back and learn from your mistakes. Come back a man, tell your story to these black and brown kids in Compton. Let 'em know you was just like them, but you still rose from that dark place of violence, becoming a positive person. But when you do make it, give back with your words of encouragement, and that's the best way to give back. To your city... And I love you Kendrick, if I don't hear you knocking on the door you know where I usually leave the key. Alright? Talk to you later, bye.\"\n(*Sound of a cassette tape being stopped and fast forwarded*)"}
{"text":"This what God feel like, huh, he-yeah\nLaughin' to the bank like, \"A-ha!\", huh, he-yeah\nFlex on swole like, \"A-ha!\", huh, he-yeah\nYou feel some type of way, then a-ha!\nHuh, he-yeah (A-ha-ha, a-ha-ha)\n\nEver since a young man (Since a young man)\nAll I wanna be was a gunman (Was a gunman)\nShootin\u2019 up the charts, better run, man\nY'all gotta see that I won, man\nSlick as El DeBarge with the finger waves, work it, JT\nHandle bars like a fade, watch me work it, JT\nI'm at large, runnin\u2019 plays like a circuit, JT\nI'm sellin' verses, JT, watch me work it, JT\nLook, look\u2026 hol' up!\nDon't judge me! My mama caught me with a strap\nDon't judge me! I was young, fuckin' all the brats\nDon't judge me! Aimin\u2019 at your head for a stack\nDon\u2019t judge! Don't judge me! Now my home got a Valley peak\nDon\u2019t judge me! If I press your line you a freak\nDon't judge me! Won't you tell a friend? Y'all gon\u2019 see\u2014\n\nThis what God feel like, huh, he-yeah\nLaughin' to the bank like, \"A-ha!\", huh, he-yeah\nFlex on swole like, \"A-ha!\", huh, he-yeah\nYou feel some type of way, then a-ha!\nHuh, he-yeah (A-ha-ha, a-ha-ha)\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nFuck is you talkin' to?\nAyy, do you know who you talkin' to?\nSlide on you like fallen drapes\nGod toss full of carnivals\nI kill 'em with kindness\nOr I kill 'em with diamonds\nOr I put up like fifteen hundred\nGet yo' ass killed by the finest\nEverything in life is a gamble\nNothin' in life I can't handle\nSeen it all, done it all, felt pain more\nFor the cause, I done put blood on sword\nEverything I do is to embrace y'all\nEverything I write is a damn eight ball\nEverything I touch is a damn gold mine\nEverything I say is from an angel\n\nI don't rush shit, fuck shit, always your shit, my shit\nCannonballs to ignite shit, morning to the night shift\nI'm on, I ain't sorry for it\nAsked for a piece of mind, you charged me for it\nI wanna see sometimes if you ignore it\nI'm in the streets sometimes and can't afford it\nI got a bad habit, levitatin', duckin' haters\nOh my! My heart is rich, my heart is famous\nThis what God feel like\nHuh, he-yeah (This what God feel like)\nLaughin' to the bank like, \"A-ha!\"\n(This what God feel like)\nHuh, he-yeah (This what God feel like)\nFlex on swole like, \"A-ha!\"\n(This what God feel like)\nHuh, he-yeah (This what God feel like)\nYou feel some type of way, then a-ha!\n(This what God feel like)\nHuh, he-yeah (This what God feel like)\nThis what God feel like"}
{"text":"\nI wanna hit line drives\u2026\nWanna lose weight and keep eating\u2026\nFor you\u2026\nHey, whats up doc?\n\nNow I was raised in a sandbox, next to you and her\nYou was holding the handgun, she was giving birth\nTo a baby boy to be just like you, I-I wonder what's that worth\nI-I wonder if you ever knew that you was a role model to me first\nThe next day I-I woke up in the morning, seen you on the news\nLooked in the mirror, then realized that I-I-I had something to prove\nYou told me, \"Don't be like me, just finish watching cartoons\"\nWhich is funny now cause all I see is Wile E. Coyotes in the room\n\nAnd I run it (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Yeah! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Yeah! Blow!)\nThat's ironic (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nIronic (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nThat's ironic (Y-Yeah!  Blow!)\nIronic (Yeah! Blow! Yeah!)\nSalt all in my wounds\nHear my tears all in my tunes\nLet my life loose in this booth\nJust for you, mothafucka, hope y'all amused\nAnd I run it (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Y-Yeah! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Yeah! Blow!)\nThat's ironic\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nLiberation\u2026 Leader\u2026\nPopular pie plant pictured here\u2026\nWile E. Coyote! Wile E. Coyote!\nThis shit make a nigga just wanna write\nReminisce when I had the morning appetite\nApple Jacks and after that I hit the TV Guide\nAnimaniac the only thing that gave me peace of mind\nI\u2019m a maniac when aiming at the enemy that lied\nTell a story that I'll never grow to 25\nNot to worry, every warrior will come and see euphoria\nAnd that's a covenant I put on every tribe\nAin't nobody gon' tie your shoe\nNobody gon' abide by your rule\nNobody holding your gun\nHow come your tongue say, \"killa\" then kill my mood\nLight speed living in the world you know\nLittle old me, feeling like a live wire\nBet I put some new tires on a lightning bolt\n'Til I wreck into a pole, like a right to vote\nI'm from the bottom of the jungle\nLiving in the bottom of the food chain\nWhen you get a new chain, nigga take it from you\nA new name, want stripes, and you a zebra look-alike\nHope another homicide don't numb you a nun do\nThings we will never learn soon\nIn the era where we wanna earn soon\nThat's a error, you can smell it in the air\nAnd everybody really doomed\nThat's why I'm backdooring you motherfuckas\nAll y'all can suck my dick\nAll them days at the county building\nI'm 'bout to make my mama rich\nCartoons and (Cereal!) I ain't felt this (Good since!)\nScrooge McDuck (Here we go!), elementary hood shit\nNow I was raised in a sandbox, next to you and her\nYou was holding the handgun, she was giving birth\nTo a baby boy to be just like you, I wonder what's that worth\nI-I wonder if you ever knew that you was a role model to me first\nThe next day I-I woke up in the morning, seen you on the news\nLooked in the mirror, then realized that I-I-I had something to prove\nYou told me, \"Don't be like me, just finish watching cartoons\"\nWhich is funny now cause all I see is Wile E. Coyotes in the room\n\nAnd I run it (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Yeah! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Yeah! Blow!)\nThat's ironic (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nIronic (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nThat's ironic (Y-Yeah!  Blow!)\nIronic (Yeah! Blow! Yeah!)\nSalt all in my wounds\nHear my tears all in my tunes\nLet my life loose in this booth\nJust for you, mothafucka, hope y'all amused\nAnd I run it (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Blow! Blow! Blow! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Y-Yeah! Blow!)\nAnd I run it (Yeah! Blow!)\nThat's ironic\nThis shit make a nigga just wanna shit on everybody\nEven with a pot to piss in\nI'ma aim sloppy at a loud mouth, discharge\nDismiss any business of yours\nDiscounts never did amount to a check\nThat ya ass couldn't cash when the shit bounce\nEverything dismounts, niggas gon' flip that car\nAKs for the whole hood\nHouse lick went down perfect\nTwo shots to the head he deserved it\nI overheard it hit my bed with a bowl and remote control\nDark Wing Duck lost service\nMama said I'd better duck, she's nervous\nDrama all up in the cut, hit the curtains\nI mean don't intervene with no gun machine\nThis block stay jerking, the feds stay lurkin'\nEmerging on everbody corner (Dash for it)\nGet a toe tag when you play tag\nWith a task of a new (Task force)\nEverybody wanna know my life\nHow did I make it (Past yours)\nWell let me tell you like this\nI've been running this shit since I (Asked for)\nCartoons and cereal\n\nNow I was raised in a sandbox, next to you and her\nYou was holding the handgun, she was giving birth\nTo a baby boy to be just like you, I wonder what's that worth\nI-I wonder if you ever knew that you was a role model to me first\nThe next day I-I woke up in the morning, seen you on the news\nLooked in the mirror, then realized that I-I-I had something to prove\nYou told me, \"Don't be like me, just finish watching cartoons\"\nWhich is funny now cause all I see is Wile E. Coyotes in the room\nAnd I run it\n\nSalt all in my wounds\nHear my tears all in my tunes\nLet my life loose in this booth, just for you\nMuhfucka, hope y'all amused!\nI did wrong, karma came\nCrackers gave me ball and chain\nFriends, enemies all the same\nState, fed, both can hang\nNobody can't mute me\nBut I never said nobody can't shoot me\nJust another stat to the white folks\nStill whip work to the white yolk, absolutely!\nEveryday feel like the one before\nHunt the money, don't hunt the ho\nIf you do what you always done\nThen you get what you always got\nYou dumb buffoons!\nI ain't seen the back of my eyelids\nFor about the past 72 hours\nHand on my heart, face to the hood\nI pledge every word you ever heard was honest\nYeah, this me, no mic\nNo cameras, no lights, just pain\nMama, how much trauma can I sustain?\nDirty money come with lots of stains\nRoad to riches come with lots of lanes\nJust another player with lots of game\nNever had shit, got lots to gain\u2026\n\nJust another player with lots of game\nNever had shit, got lots to gain\n(To be continued)"}
{"text":"Mass hallucination, baby\nIll education, baby\nWant to reconnect with your elations?\nThis is your station, baby\n\nLook inside these walls and you see I'm havin' withdrawals\nOf a prisoner on his way\nTrapped inside your desire to fire bullets that stray\nTrack attire just tell you I'm tired and ran away\nI should ask a choir: \"What do you require\nTo sing a song that acquire me to have faith?\"\nAs the record spin I should pray\nFor the record, I recognize that I'm easily prey\nI got ate alive yesterday\nI got animosity buildin', it's prob'ly big as a buildin'\nMe jumpin' off of the roof is me just playin' it safe\nBut what am I 'posed to do when the topic is red or blue\nAnd you understand that I ain't\nBut know I'm accustomed to just a couple that look for trouble\nAnd live in the street with rank\nNo better picture to paint than me walkin' from Bible study\nAnd called his homies because he had said he noticed my face\nFrom a function that tooken place, they was wonderin' if I bang\nStep on my neck and get blood on your Nike checks\nI don't mind 'cause one day you'll respect\nThe good kid, m.A.A.d city\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nMass hallucination, baby\nIll education, baby\nWant to reconnect with your elations?\nThis is your station, baby\nAll I see is strobe lights, blindin' me in my hindsight\nFindin' me by myself, promise me you can help\nIn all honesty I got time to be copacetic until\nYou had finally made decision to hold me against my will\nIt was like a head-on collision that folded me standing still\nI can never pick out the difference and grade a cop on the bill\nEvery time you clock in the morning, I feel you just want to kill\nAll my innocence while ignorin' my purpose to persevere\nAs a better person; I know you heard this and probably in fear\nBut what am I 'posed to do when the blinkin' of red and blue\nFlash from the top of your roof and your dog has to say woof\nAnd you ask: \"Lift up your shirt,\" because you wonder if a tattoo\nOf affiliation can make it a pleasure to put me through\nGang files, but that don't matter because the matter is racial profile\nI heard 'em chatter: \"He's prob'ly young, but I know that he's down\nStep on his neck as hard as your bullet-proof vest\nHe don't mind, he know we'll never respect\nThe good kid, m.A.A.d. city.\"\nMass hallucination, baby\nIll education, baby\nWant to reconnect with your elations?\nThis is your station, baby\nAll I see in this room: 20's, Xannies and these 'shrooms\nGrown-up candy for pain, can we live in a sane\nSociety? It's entirely stressful upon my brain\nYou hired me as a victim, I quietly hope for change\nWhen violence is the rhythm, inspired me to obtain\nThe silence in this room with 20's, Xannies and 'shrooms\nSome grown-up candy, I lost it, I feel it's nothin' to lose\nThe streets sure to release the worst side of my best\nDon't mind, 'cause now you ever in debt to good kid, m.A.A.d. city\nMass hallucination, baby\nIll education, baby\nWant to reconnect with your elations?\nThis is your station, baby"}
{"text":"Heart plays in ways the mind can't figure out\nHeart plays in ways the mind can't\u2014\nHeart plays in ways the mind can't figure out\nThis is how we conceptualize human beings\n\nMy auntie is a man now\nI think I'm old enough to understand now\nDrinking Paul Masson with her hat turned backwards\nMotorola pager, off-white Guess jacket\nBlue Air Max's, gold chains, and curl kits\n'93 Nissan wax job, the earliest\nBig social, big personality, vocal\nPlayed the underground verbatim and stayed local\nMy auntie is a man now\nI watch him and his girl hold their hands down\nTip of the avenues under street lights made his\nThinking, \"I want me a bad bitch when I get big\"\nThey hug on the corner like California King\nCold hand all up her skirt, cars whistling down the road\nSee, my auntie is a man now, slight bravado\nScratching the likes from lotto\nHoping that she pull up tomorrow\nSo I can hang out in the front seat\nSix-by-nines keeping the music up under me\nMy auntie is a man now\nAsked my momma why my uncles don't like him that much\nAnd at the parties why they always wanna fight him that much\nShe said, \"Ain't no tellin'\nNiggas always been jealous because he had more women\nMore money and more attention made more envy\nCalling him anything but broke was less offending\"\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\nMy auntie is a man now\nI think I'm old enough to understand now\nDrinking Paul Masson with her hat turned backwards\nBack when it was comedic relief to say, \"Faggot\"\n\"Faggot, faggot, faggot,\" we ain't know no better\nElementary kids with no filter, however\nMy auntie became a man and I took pride in it\nShe wasn't gay, she ate pussy, and that was the difference\nThat's what I told my friends in second grade\nShe picking me up from school, they stare at her in the face\nThey couldn't comprehend what I grew accustomed\nWe pull off bumpin' Quik like it was nothing\nMy auntie is a man now, what a relationship\nI grew up fast, I needed no one to babysit\nHe gave me some cash then gave me some game\nCherry freshener on the dash, I never complained\nShe even cut my hair at the pad, was loving my fade\nThe first person I seen write a rap\nThat's when my life had changed\nHouse full of demo, smoke stuck on the window\nCameras on the microphone, all women and men know\nMy auntie was a man now, we cool with it\nThe history had trickled down and made us ign'ant\nMy favorite cousin said he's returning the favor\nAnd following my auntie with the same behavior\nDemetrius is Mary-Ann now\nHe's more confident to live his plan now (Talking to the world's gonna bring you down)\nBut the family in disbelief this time (Talking to the world's gonna bring you down)\nConvincing themselves, \"He ain't living discreet, he's fine\" (Talking to the world's gonna bring you down)\nThey said they never seen it in him, but I seen it (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)\nThe Barbie dolls played off reflection of Venus (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)\nHe built a wall so tall you couldn't climb over\nHe didn't laugh as hard when the kids start joking (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)\n\"Faggot, faggot, faggot,\" we ain't know no better\nMiddle school kids with no filter, however\nI had to be very mindful of my good cousin\nI knew exactly who he was, but I still loved him\nDemetrius is Mary-Ann now\nI mean he's really Mary-Ann, even took things further\nChanged his gender before Bruce Jenner was certain\nLiving his truth even if it meant see a surgeon\nWe didn't talk for a while, he seemed more distant\nWasn't comfortable around me, everything was offensive\nBut I recall we both had a sick sense of humor\nMade raw, but time changes all\n\nDemetrius is Mary-Ann now\nRemember church, Easter Sunday?\nI sat in the pew, you had stronger faith\nMore spiritual when these dudes were living life straight\nWhich I found ironic 'cause the pastor didn't see him the same\nHe said my cousin was going through some things\nHe promised the world we living in was an act on abomination\nAnd Demetrius was to blame\nI knew you was conflicted by the feelings of preacherman\nWondering if God still call you a decent man\nStill, you found the courage to be subservient just to anoint\nUntil he singled you out to prove his point, saying\n\"Demetrius is Mary-Ann now\nChurch, his auntie is a man now,\" it hurt\nYou the most 'cause your belief was close to his words\nForcing me to stand now\nI said, \"Mr. Preacherman, should we love thy neighbor?\nThe laws of the land or the heart, what's greater?\nI recognize the study she was taught since birth\nBut that don't justify the feelings that my cousin preserved\"\nThe building was thinking out loud, bad angel\nThat's when you looked at me and smiled, said, \"Thank you\"\nThe day I chose humanity over religion\nThe family got closer, it was all forgiven\nI said them F-bombs, I ain't know any better\nMistakenly, I ain't think that you'd know any different\nSee, I was taught words was nothing more than a sound\nIf ever they was pronounced without any intentions\nThe very second you challenged the shit I was kicking\nReminded me about a show I did out the city\nThat time I brung a fan on stage to rap\nBut disapproved the word that she couldn't say with me\nYou said, \"Kendrick, ain't no room for contradiction\nTo truly understand love, switch position\n'Faggot, faggot, faggot,' we can say it together\nBut only if you let a white girl say 'Nigga'\""}
{"text":"\nI hope you find some peace of mind in this lifetime\n(Tell them, tell 'em, tell them the truth)\nI hope you find some paradise\n(Tell 'em, tell 'em the truth)\n(Tell 'em, tell 'em, tell 'em, tell 'em your\u2014)\nI've been goin' through somethin'\nOne-thousand eight-hundred and fifty-five days\nI've been goin' through somethin'\nBe afraid\n\nWhat is a bitch in a miniskirt?\nA man in his feelings with bitter nerve\nWhat is a woman that really hurt?\nA demon, you're better off killing her\nWhat is a relative making repetitive narratives\nOn how you did it first?\nThat is a predator, hit reverse\nAll of your presidents' evil thirst\nWhat is a neighborhood rep'table?\nThat is a snitch on a pedestal\nWhat is a house with a better view?\nA family broken in variables\nWhat is a rapper with jewelry?\nA way that I show my maturity\nWhat if I call on security?\nThat mean I'm calling on God for purity\nI went and got me a therapist\nI can debate on my theories and sharing it (Woah)\nConsolidate all my comparisons\nHumblin' up because time was imperative (Woah)\nStarted to feel like it's only one answer\nTo everything, I don't know where it is (Woah)\nPopping a bottle of Claritin (Woah)\nIs it my head or my arrogance? (Woah)\nShaking and moving, like, what am I doing?\nI'm flipping my time through the Rolodex\nIndulging myself and my life and my music\nThe world that I'm in is a cul-de-sac\nThe world that we in is just menacing\nThe demons portrayed as religionous\nI wake in the morning, another appointment\nI hope the psychologist listenin'\nSee Kendrick Lamar LiveGet tickets as low as $39You might also like\n\nThe new Mercedes with black G-Wagon\nThe \"Where you from?\", it was all for rap\nI was 28 years young, twenty mill' in tax\nBought a couple of mansions, just for practice\nFive hundred in jewelry, chain was magic\nNever had it in public, late reaction\n50K to cousins, post a caption\nPray none of my enemies hold me captive\n\nI grieve different\nI grieve different (Huh)\n\nI met her on the third night of Chicago\nNorth America tour, my enclave\nFee-fi-fo-fum, she was a model\nDedicated to the songs I wrote and the Bible\nEyes like green penetratin' the moonlight\nHair done in a bun, energy in the room like\nBig Bang for theory, God, hopin' you hear me\nPhone off the ringer, tell the world, \"I'm busy\"\nFair enough, green eyes said her mother didn't care enough\nSympathize when her daddy in the chain gang\nHer first brother got killed, he was twenty-one\nI was nine when they put Lamont in the grave\nHeartbroken when Estelle didn't say goodbye\nChad left his body after we FaceTimed\nGreen eyes said you'd be okay, first tour, sex the pain away\nI grieve different\nI grieve different (Huh)\n\nThe new Mercedes with black G-Wagon\nThe \"Where you from?\", it was all for rap\nI was 28 years young, twenty mill' in tax\nBought a couple of mansions, just for practice\nFive hundred in jewelry, chain was magic\nNever had it in public, late reaction\n50K to cousins, post a caption\nPray none of my enemies hold me captive\n\nSo what, paralyzed, the county building controlled us\nI bought a Rolex watch, I only wore it once\nI bought infinity pools I never swimmed in\nI watched Keem buy four cars in four months\nYou know the family dynamics on repeat\nThe insecurities locked down on PC\nI bought a .223, nobody peace treat\nYou won't doo-doo me, I smell TNT\nDave got him a Porsche, so I got me a Porsche\nPaid lottery for it, I ain't want it in portions\nPoverty was the case\nBut the money wipin' the tears away\nI grieve different\n(Everybody grieves different)\n(Everybody grieves different)\nI grieve different (Huh)"}
{"text":"And they wishin' and wishin'\nAnd wishin' and wishin', they wishin' on me\nYeah\n\nI been movin' calm, don't start no trouble with me\nTryna keep it peaceful is a struggle for me\nDon't pull up at 6 AM to cuddle with me\nYou know how I like it when you lovin' on me\nI don't wanna die for them to miss me\nYes, I see the things that they wishin' on me\nHope I got some brothers that outlive me\nThey gon' tell the story, shit was different with me\n\nGod's plan, God's plan\nI hold back, sometimes I won't, yeah\nI feel good, sometimes I don't (Ayy, don't)\nI finessed down Weston Road (Ayy, 'nessed)\nMight go down a G-O-D (Yeah, wait)\nI go hard on Southside G (Yeah, wait)\nI make sure that north-side eat\nAnd still\n\nBad things\nIt's a lot of bad things that they wishin' and wishin'\nAnd wishin' and wishin', they wishin' on me\nBad things\nIt's a lot of bad things that they wishin' and wishin'\nAnd wishin' and wishin', they wishin' on me\nYeah, ayy, ayy\nYou might also like\nShe say, \"Do you love me?\" I tell her, \"Only partly\nI only love my bed and my mama, I'm sorry\"\nFifty Dub, I even got it tatted on me\nEighty-one, they'll bring the crashers to the party\nAnd you know me\nTurn the O2 into the O3, dog\nWithout 40, Oli, there'd be no me\n'Magine if I never met the broskies\n\nGod's plan, God's plan\nI can't do this on my own, ayy (No, ayy)\nSomeone watchin' this shit close (Yep, close)\nI've been me since Scarlett Road, ayy (Road, ayy)\nMight go down as G-O-D (Yeah, wait, yeah)\nI go hard on Southside G (Ayy, wait, ayy)\nI make sure that north-side eat, yeah\nAnd still\n\nBad things\nIt's a lot of bad things that they wishin' and wishin'\nAnd wishin' and wishin', they wishin' on me\nYeah, yeah\nBad things\nIt's a lot of bad things that they wishin' and wishin'\nAnd wishin' and wishin', they wishin' on me\nYeah"}
{"text":"Trap, TrapMoneyBenny\nThis shit got me in my feelings\nGotta be real with it, yeah\n\nKiki, do you love me? Are you riding?\nSay you'll never ever leave from beside me\n'Cause I want ya, and I need ya\nAnd I'm down for you always\nKB, do you love me? Are you riding?\nSay you'll never ever leave from beside me\n'Cause I want ya, and I need ya\nAnd I'm down for you always\n\nLook, the new me is really still the real me\nI swear you gotta feel me before they try and kill me\nThey gotta make some choices, they runnin' out of options\n'Cause I've been goin' off and they don't know when it's stoppin'\nAnd when you get to toppin', I see that you've been learnin'\nAnd when I take you shoppin', you spend it like you earned it\nAnd when you popped off on your ex he deserved it\nI thought you were the one from the jump, that confirmed it\nTrapMoneyBenny, ayy\nI buy you Champagne but you love some Henny\nFrom the block like you Jenny\nI know you special, girl, 'cause I know too many\nYou might also like\n'Resha, do you love me? Are you riding?\nSay you'll never ever leave from beside me\n'Cause I want ya, and I need ya\nAnd I'm down for you always\nJT, do you love me? Are you riding?\nSay you'll never ever leave from beside me\n'Cause I want ya, and I need ya\nAnd I'm down for you always\n\nTwo bad bitches and we kissin' in the Wraith\nKissin'-kissin' in the Wraith, kiss-kissin' in the Wraith\nI need that black card and the code to the safe\nCode to the safe, code-code to the safe-safe\nI show him how that neck work\nFuck that Netflix and chill\u2014what's your net-net-net worth?\n'Cause I want ya, and I need ya\nAnd I'm down for you always\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, he bad\nAnd I'm down for you always\nYeah, yeah, yeah, guess who's back\nAnd I'm down for you always\nD-down for you al\u2013\nBlack biggy biggy black biggy black blake\nD-d-down for you always\nI got a new boy, and that nigga trade!\nKiki, do you love me? Are you riding?\nSay you'll never ever leave from beside me\n'Cause I want you, and I need you\nAnd I'm down for you always\nKB, do you love me? Are you riding?\nSay you'll never ever leave from beside me\n'Cause I want ya, and I\u2013\n\nSkate and Smoke and Rap\nNow let me see you\nBring that ass, bring that ass, bring that ass back!\nB-bring that ass, bring that ass, bring that ass back!\nShawty say the nigga that she with can't hit\nBut shawty, I'ma hit it, hit it like I can't miss\nNow let me see you\nClap that ass, you're the only one I love\nClap that ass, clap-clap that ass!\nBring that ass back!\nClap-clap-clap that ass, you're the only one I love\nLet's go, let's go, let's go!\nBring that ass back!\n\nTrap, TrapMoneyBenny\nThis shit got me in my feelings\nGotta be real with it, yup\nBlaqNmilD, you a genius, you diggin' me?\nI don't even care, I need a photo with Drake\nBecause my Instagram is weak as fuck\nI'm just being real, my shit, look\u2013"}
{"text":"You used to call me on my\nYou used to, you used to\nYeah\n\nYou used to call me on my cell phone\nLate-night when you need my love\nCall me on my cell phone\nLate-night when you need my love\nAnd I know when that hotline bling\nThat can only mean one thing\nI know when that hotline bling\nThat can only mean one thing\n\nEver since I left the city, you\nGot a reputation for yourself now\nEverybody knows and I feel left out\nGirl, you got me down, you got me stressed out\n'Cause ever since I left the city, you\nStarted wearin' less and goin' out more\nGlasses of champagne out on the dance floor\nHangin' with some girls I never seen before\n\nYou used to call me on my cell phone\nLate-night when you need my love\nCall me on my cell phone\nLate-night when you need my love\nI know when that hotline bling\nThat can only mean one thing\nI know when that hotline bling\nThat can only mean one thing\nYou might also like\nEver since I left the city, you, you, you\nYou and me, we just don't get along\nYou make me feel like I did you wrong\nGoin' places where you don't belong\nEver since I left the city, you\nYou got exactly what you asked for\nRunnin' out of pages in your passport\nHangin' with some girls I've never seen before\n\nYou used to call me on my cell phone\nLate-night when you need my love\nCall me on my cell phone\nLate-night when you need my love\nAnd I know when that hotline bling\nThat can only mean one thing\nI know when that hotline bling\nThat can only mean one thing\n\nThese days, all I do is\nWonder if you're bendin' over backwards for someone else\nWonder if you're rollin' up a Backwoods for someone else\nDoing things I taught you, gettin' nasty for someone else\nYou don't need no one else\nYou don't need nobody else, no\nWhy you never alone?\nWhy you always touchin' road?\nUsed to always stay at home\nBe a good girl, you was in the zone\nYeah, you should just be yourself\nRight now, you're someone else\nYou used to call me on my cell phone\nLate-night when you need my love\nCall me on my cell phone\nLate-night when you need my love\nAnd I know when that hotline bling\nThat can only mean one thing\nI know when that hotline bling\nThat can only mean one thing\n\nEver since I left the city\u2014"}
{"text":"Baby, I like your style\n\nGrips on your waist, front way, back way\nYou know that I don't play\nStreets not safe but I never run away\nEven when I'm away\nOti, oti\nThere's never much love when we go OT\nI pray to make it back in one piece\nI pray, I pray\n\nThat's why I need a one dance\nGot a Hennessy in my hand\nOne more time 'fore I go\nHigher powers taking a hold on me\nI need a one dance\nGot a Hennessy in my hand\nOne more time 'fore I go\nHigher powers taking a hold on me\nBaby, I like your style\nYou might also like\nStrength and guidance\nAll that I'm wishing for my friends\nNobody makes it from my ends\nI had to bust up the silence\nYou know you gotta stick by me\nSoon as you see the text, reply me\nI don't wanna spend time fighting\nWe've got no time, and that's why\n\nI need a one dance\nGot a Hennessy in my hand\nOne more time 'fore I go\nHigher powers taking a hold on me\nI need a one dance\nGot a Hennessy in my hand\nOne more time 'fore I go\nHigher powers taking a hold on me\n\nGot a pretty girl and she love me long time\nWine it, wine it, she love me long time\nOh, yeah, very long time\nBack up, back up, back up, and wine am\nBack up, back up, and wine am, girl, just\nBack up, back up, back up, and wine am\nOh, yeah, very long time\nBack, up, back up and wine am, girl\nOh, tell me, I need to know\nWhere do you wanna go?\n'Cause if you're down, I'll take it slow\nMake you lose control\n\nWhere, where, where\nWhere, where, where, where (Oh, yeah, very long time)\nWhere, where, where (Back up, back up, and wine am, girl)\nWhere, where, where, where\n'Cause if you're down (Back up, back up, and\u2013)\n'Cause if you're down (Back up, back up, and\u2013)\n'Cause if you're down (Back up, back up, and\u2013)\n\nI need a one dance (Where, where, where)\nGot a Hennessy in my hand (Where, where, where, where)\nOne more time 'fore I go (Where)\nHigher powers taking a hold on me (Where, where, where, where)\nI need a one dance\nGot a Hennessy in my hand\nOne more time 'fore I go\nHigher powers taking a hold on me\nHow do you spell \"Hennessy?\"\nI put two \"N\"s and two \"S\"es, is it like that? Hen... Henn... Henn...\nIt's definitely not showing up\nI know \"Hennessy\" has two \"S\"es for sure, so I'm gonna take out one of the \"N\"s"}
{"text":"I got my eyes on you\nYou're everything that I see\nI want your hot love and emotion endlessly\nI can't get over you\nYou left your mark on me\nI want your hot love and emotion endlessly\n\n'Cause you're a good girl and you know it\nYou act so different around me\n'Cause you're a good girl and you know it\nI know exactly who you could be\n\nJust hold on, we're going home\nJust hold on, we're going home\nIt's hard to do these things alone\nJust hold on, we're going home\n\nI got my eyes on you\nYou're everything that I see\nI want your hot love and emotion endlessly\nI can't get over you\nYou left your mark on me\nI want your hot love and emotion endlessly\nYou might also like\n'Cause you're a good girl and you know it\nYou act so different around me\n'Cause you're a good girl and you know it\nI know exactly who you could be\n\nSo just hold on, we're going home (Going home)\nJust hold on, we're going home (Going home)\nIt's hard to do these things alone (Things alone)\nJust hold on, we're going home (Going home, going home)\n\nYou're the girl, you're the one\nGave you everything I loved\nI think there's something, baby\nI think there's something, baby\nYou're the girl, you're the one\nGave you everything I loved (Oh)\nI think there's something, baby\nI think there's something, baby\n\n'Cause you're a good girl and you know it\nYou act so different around me\n'Cause you're a good girl and you know it\nI know exactly who you could be\nOh, just hold on, we're going home (Going home)\nJust hold on, we're going home (Going home)\nIt's hard to do these things alone (Things alone)\nJust hold on, we're going home (Going home)\nHome (Going home)\n\nHold on\nOh, oh"}
{"text":"\nHol' it yute, hol' it, hol' it, hol' it, hol' it, hol' it\nNo sleepin' in the streets!\nShaky warrior\nYeah, this that Oliver, 40, Niko shit man\n15 Fort York shit, y'know?\nBoi-1da, what's poppin'?\nYeah, yeah\n\nRunnin' through the 6 with my woes\nCountin' money, you know how it goes\nPray the real live forever, man\nPray the fakes get exposed\nI want that Ferrari, then I swerve\nI want that Bugatti, just to hurt\nI ain't rockin' my jewelry, that's on purpose\nNiggas want my spot and don't deserve it\nI don't like how serious they take themselves\nI've always been me, I guess I know myself\nShakiness, man, I don't have no time for that\nMy city too turned up, I'll take the fine for that\nThis been where you find me at\nThat's been where you find me at\nI know a nigga named Johnny Bling\nHe put me on to the finer things\nHad a job sellin' Girbaud jeans\nI had a yellow TechnoMarine\nThen Kanye dropped, it was polos and backpacks\nMan, that was when Ethan was pushin' a Subaru hatchback\nMan, I'm talkin' way before hashtags\nI was runnin' through the 6 with my woes\n(Yeah!)\nYou might also like\n\nI was runnin' through the 6 with my woes\nYou know how that shit go\nYou know how that shit go\nYou know how that shit go\nRunnin' through the 6 with my woes\nYou know how that shit go\nYou know how that shit go\nYou know how that shit go\nDon't fuck with them niggas, they too irrational, woah\n\nThis is that nasty flow\nTop boy in this shit, I'm so international\nReps up is in here\nGot P Reign and Chubby and TJ and Winnie and woah\nYeah, and you know how that shit go\nI might declare it a holiday as soon as Baka get back on the road\nYeah, but you know how that shit go\nThey so irrational, they don't wanna patch it up\nThey wanna mash it up, woah\nMy nigga Jibba, he whip it, I ride in the passenger\nI'm way up, I stay up, I'm two up, I'm three up\nI had to get back to you, woah\nI'm turnin' into a nigga that thinks about money and women\nLike 24\/7, that's where my life took me\nThat's just how shit happened to go\nAnd you know\nRunnin' through the 6 with my, with my\nI was running through the 6 with my woes\nAnd you know how that shit go\nYou know how that shit go\nYou know how that shit go\nRunnin' through the 6 with my woes\nYou know how that shit go\nYou know how that shit go\nYou know how that shit go\nRunnin' through the 6 with my woes\nYou know how that shit go\n...Shell out, all if yuh eye nuh big\nAlways haffi look out, yuh no know if yuh head book out\nDun know, a de Unruly boss, dis man\nNo bomboclat, otha\nAnd if a boy nuh like OVO or Chromatic\nYuh can jus suck yuh mada!!\nWith no apology, if you nuh like we, we nuh like you neither youth\nYour girl a say we cute, if you diss you will get execute\nThat's the truth, OVO Unruly\n(Machine gun shots)\nWith my woes1.1KEmbed"}
{"text":"Oh man\nOh man, oh man\nNot again\n\nYeah\nI learned the game from William Wesley, you can never check me\nBack to back for the niggas that didn't get the message\nBack to back, like I'm on the cover of Lethal Weapon\nBack to back, like I'm Jordan '96, '97\nWoah\u2014very important and very pretentious\nWhen I look back, I might be mad that I gave this attention\nYeah, but it's weighin' heavy on my conscience\nYeah, and fuck, you left The Boy no options\nI wanna see my niggas go insane\nYou gon' make me step out of my fuckin' frame\nYou gon' make me buy bottles for Charlamagne\nYou gon' make me go out of my fuckin' way\nI waited four days, nigga, where y'all at?\nI drove here in the Wraith, playin' AR-AB\nI'm not sure what it was that really made y'all mad\nBut I guess this is what I gotta do to make y'all rap\nI mean woah, can't fool the city, man, they know what's up\nSecond floor at Tootsies, gettin' shoulder rubs\nThis for y'all that think that I don't write enough\nThey just mad 'cause I got the Midas touch\nYou love her, then you gotta give the world to her\nIs that a world tour or your girl's tour?\nI know that you gotta be a thug for her\nThis ain't what she meant when she told you to open up more\nYeah, trigger fingers turn to Twitter fingers\nYeah, you gettin' bodied by a singin' nigga\nI'm not the type of nigga that'll type to niggas\nAnd shout to all my boss bitches wifin' niggas\nMake sure you hit him with the prenup\nThen tell that man to ease up\nI did another one, I did another one\nYou still ain't did shit about the other one\nYou might also like\nI got the drink in me, going back to back\nYeah, going back to back\nI got the drink in me, going back to back\nYeah, I'm going back to back\n\nI don't wanna hear about this ever again\nNot even when she tell him that they better as friends\nNot even when you saying, \"Drizzy, tell 'em again!\"\nI been puttin' on a show, it was a sell-out event\nOh, you need better seatin'\nI didn't wanna do it, gave me every reason\nThe point I'm tryin' to make is I don't ever need 'em\nSeen what you'd do for fame, what would you do for freedom?\nPlease, check 'em for a wire or a earpiece\nPlease, please do not let these niggas near me\nPlease, think before you come for the great one\nPlease, who's a real nigga and who ain't one?\nPlease, somebody stop me\nI'm talkin' boasy and gwanin wassy\nI got the fest in five days and it's my shit\nSoon as a nigga hit the stage, they gon'\n\nThey gon' ask if I can play this shit back to back\nYeah, they want it back to back\nThey gon' ask if I can play this shit back to back\nI took a break from Views, now it's back to that, nigga (Six)1.3KEmbed"}
{"text":"I'm really stepping up my game\nThese bitches gotta start paying me for this\nCan't get no more free, Randy\n\nGot everything, I got everything\nI cannot complain, I cannot\nI don't even know how much I really made, I forgot, it's a lot\nFuck that, never mind what I got\nNigga don't watch that 'cause I\u2014\nCame up, that's all me, stay true, that's all me (yeah)\nNo help, that's all me, all me for real\nCame up, that's all me, stay true, that's all me (2 Chainz)\nNo help, that's all me, all me for real\n\nMoney on my mind, you should think the same\nJ's on, pinky ring, dogging these hoes, I need quarantine\nIn the same league, but we don't ball the same\n(Ah) She want all the fame, I hear that shit all the time\nShe said she love me, I said, \"Baby girl, fall in line\"\nOkay, made a million off a dinner fork, watch me switch it up\nWalked in, \"Ill nigga alert! Ill nigga alert!\"\nYou need that work, I got that work, got bitches in my condo\nJust bought a shirt that cost a Mercedes-Benz car note\nFrom the A to Toronto, we let the metal go off\nAnd my dick so hard it make the metal detector go off\nThis that sauce, this that dressing\nGivenchy, nigga, God bless you\nIf having a bad bitch was a crime, I'd be arrested (Tru)\nYou might also like\nGot everything, I got everything\nI cannot complain, I cannot\nI don't even know how much I really made, I forgot, it's a lot\nFuck that, never mind what I got\nNigga don't watch that 'cause I\u2014\nCame up, that's all me, stay true, that's all me\nNo help, that's all me, all me for real\nCame up, that's all me, stay true, that's all me\nNo help, that's all me, all me for real\n\nI touched down in '86, knew I was the man by the age of 6\nI even fucked the girl that used to babysit\nBut that was years later on some crazy shit\nI heard your new shit, nigga hated it\nDamon Wayans, homie don't play that shit\nI get paid a lot, you get paid a bit\nAnd my latest shit is like a greatest hits\nGoddamn, ain't no wishing over on this side\nY'all don't fuck with us, then we don't fuck with y'all\nIt's no different over on this side\nGoddamn, should I listen to everybody or myself?\n'Cause myself just told myself:\n\"You're the motherfucking man, you don't need no help\"\nCashing checks and I\u2019m bigging up my chest\nY'all keep talking \u2018bout who next, but I\u2019m about as big as it gets\nI swear y'all just wasting y'all breath\nI\u2019m the light skinned Keith Sweat, I'ma make it last forever\nIt\u2019s not your turn 'cause I ain't done yet\nLook, just understand that I'm on a roll like Cottonelle\nI was made for all of this shit\nAnd I\u2019m on the road box office sales\nI\u2019m getting paid for all of this shit\nAsk you to please excuse my table manners\nI was making room for the table dancers\n'Cause if we judging off your advances\nThen I just got paid like eight advances, goddamn!\nGot everything, I got everything\nI cannot complain, I cannot\nI don't even know how much I really made, I forgot, it's a lot\nFuck that, never mind what I got\nNigga don't watch that 'cause I\u2014\nCame up, that's all me, stay true, that's all me\nNo help, that's all me, all me for real\nCame up, that's all me, stay true, that's all me\u2014\n\nHo, shut the fuck up!\nI got way too much on my mental\nI learn from what I've been through\nI'm finna do what I didn't do\nAnd still waking up like the rent's due\nNot complicated, it's simple\nI got sexy ladies, a whole Benz-full\nAnd to them hoes I'm everything\u2014everything but gentle\nBut I still take my time (Time)\nMan, I guess I'm just old fashioned\nWearing retro sh\u2014, that's old fashion\nNigga, see what I'm saying, no closed caption\nI paint pics, see the shit, good sex, need to hit\nKeep a broad on the floor year 'round like season tickets\nI plead the fifth, drink a fifth, load the nine\nLeave you split, in the half, smoke a half, need a zip\nMy new girl is on Glee and shit\nProbably making more money than me and shit\nI swear to God I got 99 problems but a bitch ain't one\nI got 99 problems, getting rich ain't one\nLike I got trust issues\nI'm sorry for the people I've pushed out\nI'm the type to have a bullet-proof condom\nAnd still gotta pull out\nBut that's just me and I ain't perfect\nI ain't a saint but I am worth it\nIf it's one thing, I am worth it\nNiggas still hating but it ain't working\nLil' bitch...\nOh me, oh me, oh my\nI think I done fucked too many women from the 305\n'Fore the end of this year\nI'll do King of Diamonds 3 more times\nSmoking on that kush all in our section\nLike it's legalized\nGirl, you can't always have your way\nSometimes it be like that\nThey don't really fuck with you like that\nThey ain't never did me like that\nI just took my time, you got the shine\nI let you eat like that\nI been taught to never loan somebody\nWhat you need right back\nAnd I need that shit right back\n(No more free Randy) I\u2019m blessed than a muhfucka\nNiggas been stressed than a muhfucka\nNiggas getting nervous\nClutching they chests like a muhfucka\nDamn that\u2019s a motherfucker\nTell the truth, I don\u2019t listen to you\n'Cause I don\u2019t like being lied to\nAnd that ship won\u2019t sail\nAnd that wind won\u2019t guide you\nDaddy was in jail, we was talking through the window\nLike a motherfucking drive-thru\nThat was back then, man\nNow my niggas rich enough to do whatever I do"}
{"text":"What's up?\nBeen a minute since we kicked it, you've been caught up\nWith them bitches, I don't get it, you're a star, love\nYou shouldn't have to deal with that\nI'd never make you feel like that\n'Cause\n\nI love me\nI love me enough for the both of us\nThat's why you trust me\nI know you been through more than most of us\nSo what are you\nWhat are you, what are you so afraid of?\nDarling, you\nYou give, but you cannot take love\n\nYeah, I needed to hear that shit, I hate when you're submissive\nPassive aggressive when we're texting, I feel the distance\nI look around the peers that surround me, these niggas tripping\nI like when money makes a difference but don't make you different\nStarted realizing a couple places I could take it\nI want to get back to when I was that kid in the basement\nI want to take it deeper than money, pussy, vacation\nAnd influence a generation that's lacking in patience\nI've been dealing with my dad, speaking of lack of patience\nJust me and my old man getting back to basics\nWe've been talking 'bout the future and time that we wasted\nWhen he put that bottle down, girl, that nigga's amazing\nWell, fuck it, we had a couple Coronas\nWe might have rolled a white paper, just something to hold us\nWe even talked about you and our couple of moments\nHe said we should hash it out like a couple of grown-ups\nYou a flower child, beautiful child, I'm in your zone\nLooking like you came from the seventies on your own\nMy mother is sixty-six and her favorite line to hit me with is\n\"Who the fuck wants to be seventy and alone?\"\nYou don't even know what you want from love anymore\nI search for something I'm missing and disappear when I'm bored\nBut girl, what qualities was I looking for before?\nWho you settling for? Who better for you than the boy, huh?\nYou might also like\nI love me\nI love me enough for the both of us\nThat's why you trust me\nI know you been through more than most of us\nSo what are you\nWhat are you, what are you so afraid of?\nDarling, you\nYou give, but you cannot take love\nUh, thinking 'bout Texas, back when Porscha used to work at Treasures\nOr further back than that, before I had the Houston leverage\nWhen I got Summer a Michael Kors with my momma's debit\nA weak attempt at flexing, I'll never forget it\n'Cause that night I played her three songs\nThen we got to talking 'bout something we disagreed on\nThen she start telling me how I'll never be as big as Trey Songz\nBoy, was she wrong\nThat was just negative energy for me to feed off\nNow it's therapeutic blowing money in the Galleria\nOr Beverly Center Macy's where I discovered Bria\nLandmarks of the muses that inspired the music\nWhen I could tell it was sincere without tryna prove it\nThe one that I needed was Courtney from Hooters on Peachtree\nI've always been feeling like she was the piece to complete me\nNow she engaged to be married, what's the rush on commitment?\nKnow we were going through some shit, name a couple that isn't?\nRemember our talk in the parking lot at the Ritz\nGirl, I felt like we had it all planned out\nI guess I fucked up the vision\nLearning the true consequences of my selfish decisions\nWhen you find out how I'm living, I just hope I'm forgiven\nIt seem like you don't want this love anymore\nI'm acting out in the open, it's hard for you to ignore\nBut girl, what qualities was I looking for before?\nWho you settling for? Who better for you than the boy, huh?\nI love me\nI love me enough for the both of us\nThat's why you trust me\nI know you been through more than most of us\nSo what are you\nWhat are you, what are you so afraid of?\nDarling, you\nYou give, but you cannot take love\n\nBeen Baka aka Not Nice from time, G\nBeen a East Side ting\nScarborough ting from time, G\nBeen have up di ting dem from time, G\nSo I don't know what's wrong with these\nLittle wasteman out here, eh?\nY'all need to know yourself"}
{"text":"I've been down so long, it look like up to me\nThey look up to me\nI got fake people showin' fake love to me\nStraight up to my face, straight up to my face\nI've been down so long, it look like up to me\nThey look up to me\nI got fake people showin' fake love to me\nStraight up to my face, straight up to my face\n\nSomethin' ain't right when we talkin'\nSomethin' ain't right when we talkin'\nLook like you hidin' your problems\nReally you never was solid\nNo, you can't \"son\" me\nYou won't never get to run me\nJust when shit look out of reach\nI reach back like one, three\nLike one, three, yeah\n\nThat's when they smile in my face\nWhole time they wanna take my place\nWhole time they wanna take my place\nWhole time they wanna take my place\nYeah, I know they wanna take my place\nI can tell that love is fake\nI don't trust a word you say\nHow you wanna clique up after your mistakes?\nLook you in the face, and it's just not the same\nYou might also like\nI've been down so long, it look like up to me\nThey look up to me\nI got fake people showin' fake love to me\nStraight up to my face, straight up to my face\nI've been down so long, it look like up to me\nThey look up to me\nI got fake people showin' fake love to me\nStraight up to my face, straight up to my face\n\nYeah, straight up to my face, tryna play it safe\nVibe switch like night and day\nI can see it, like, right away\nI came up, you changed up\nI caught that whole play\nSince, things never been the same\n\nThat's when they smile in my face\nWhole time they wanna take my place\nWhole time they wanna take my place\nWhole time they wanna take my place\nYeah, I know they wanna take my place\nI can tell that love is fake (I can tell that love is fake)\nI don't trust a word you say (I don't trust a word)\nHow you wanna clique up after your mistakes?\n(That's just what I heard)\nLook you in the face, and it's just not the same\nI've been down so long, it look like up to me\nThey look up to me\nI got fake people showin' fake love to me\nStraight up to my face, straight up to my face\nI've been down so long, it look like up to me\nThey look up to me\nI got fake people showin' fake love to me\nStraight up to my face, straight up to my face\n\nSkrrt\nAnd more chune for your headtop\nSo watch how you speak on my name, you know?"}
{"text":"\nFuck bein' on some chill shit\nWe go 0 to 100, nigga, real quick\nThey be on that rap-to-pay-the-bills shit\nAnd I don't feel that shit, not even a little bit\nOh, Lord, know yourself, know your worth, nigga\nMy actions been louder than my words, nigga\nHow you so high, but still so down to Earth, nigga?\nNiggas wanna do it, we can do it on they turf, nigga\nOh, Lord, I'm the rookie and the vet\nShoutout to the bitches out here holdin' down the set\nAll up in my phone, lookin' at pictures from the other night\nShe gon' be upset if she keep scrollin' to the left, dawg\nShe gon' see some shit that she don't wanna see\nShe ain't ready for it\nIf I ain't the greatest, then I'm headed for it\nYeah, that mean I'm way up (Way up)\nYeah, the 6 ain't friendly, but that's where I lay up\nThis shit a mothafuckin' lay-up\nI been Steph Curry with the shot\nBeen cookin' with the sauce, Chef Curry with the pot, boy\nAyy, who the fuck them niggas is, boy?\nOVO, man, we really with the shits, boy\nYeah, really with the shits\nI should prolly sign to Hit-Boy 'cause I got all the hits, boy\nFuck all that \"Drake, you gotta chill\" shit\nI be on my Lil Mouse drill shit\nFuck all that rap-to-pay-your-bills shit\nYeah, I'm on some Raptors-pay-my-bills shit\nAll up on TV, I thought it'd make me richer\nWasn't payin' me enough, I needed somethin' quicker\nSo now I'm all in Niko basement puttin' work in on the phones\nEither that or drive to Money Mart to make the pickups\nMan, it's 2008, I'm tryna paint the picture\nComeback Season in the works and now I'm thinkin' bigger\nI got 40 in the studio, every night, late night\nGotta watch that shit, don't want to make him sicker\nThat's my nigga\nOh, Lord, got a whole lot to show for it\nI mean, we can really get it, we can go for it\nI'm just here for the bucks and the billis, nigga\nDon't make me kill one of the GOATs for it\nI run this shit, they like, \"Go Forrest\nRun Forrest, run Forrest, go Forrest\"\nYeah, I mean you already wrote for us\nDamn, nigga, what's one more quote for us?\nOh, Lord, who else soundin' like this?\nThey ain't make me what I am, they just found me like this\nI was ready... fuck that, I've been ready\nSince my dad used to tell me\nHe was comin' to the house to get me\nHe ain't show up\nValuable lesson, man, I had to grow up\nThat's why I never ask for help\nI'll do it for you niggas and do it for myself\nYou might also like\nI go 0 to 100, nigga, real quick\nReal quick, whole squad on that real shit\n0 to 100, nigga, real quick\nReal quick, real fuckin' quick, nigga\n0 to 100, nigga, real quick\nReal quick, whole squad on that real shit\n0 to 100, nigga, real quick\nReal quick, real fuckin' quick, nigga\n\nWhole squad on that real shit\nWhole squad on that real shit\nWhole squad on that real shit, yeah\n\nThe other night\nLavish Lee told me that I'm all these people listen to\nShe said they love me unconditional\nImagine how it feel to watch another nigga at the top\nYou know that if you wasn't you, you would be dissin' you, dawg\nDamn, okay, from that perspective\nI see what you're talkin' 'bout, no way to soften that\n'Cause me, I was tryna find out where I lost 'em at\nBut maybe I ain't lose 'em at all\nMaybe I keep movin' forward and they're just stagnant\nThey ain't movin' at all\nBut when they need a favor, who do they call?\nMaybe I'm searchin' for the problems\nAskin' what was said and who was involved\nToo focused on people's feedback and provin' 'em wrong\nThey say the shoe can always fit, no matter whose foot it's on\nThese days feel like I'm squeezin' in 'em\nWhoever wore 'em before just wasn't thinkin' big enough\nI'm 'bout to leave 'em with 'em\n'Cause if I run in the game in these, man, the seams are splittin'\nNo pun intended but they're smellin' defeat in the air\nHeaded where nobody took it, who meetin' me there?\nThey tell him that he's talkin' crazy but he doesn't care\nBein' humble don't work as well as bein' aware\nListen up, boy, you're better off eavesdroppin'\nWe already got spring 2015 poppin'\nPND droppin', Reps-up P droppin'\nMajid Jordan droppin', OB droppin', not to mention me droppin'\nFeel like we paid the refs off, man, we fixed the game\nMe and Noel been at it before Twitter names\nYeah, been on the move like the lease is up\nAnd I can't even name one person that's keepin' up\nDamn, fuck how it was in the past tense\nAsk yourself, how do we match up now?\n'Cause I'm only 27 and I'm only gettin' better\nIf I haven't passed you yet, watch me catch up now, for real\nCould it be the way that I'll catch up\nCould it be the way that I'll catch up\nCould it be the way that I'll catch up\nCould it be the way that I'll catch up\nCould it be the way that I'll catch up\nCould it be the way that I'll catch up\nCould it be the way that I'll catch up\nCould it be the way that I'll catch up\nCould it be the way that I'll catch up\n2.6KEmbed"}
{"text":"Good God Almighty\u2014like back in the old days\nYou know, years ago they had the A&R men to tell you what to play, how to play it and you know, whether it's disco and rock\nBut, uh, we just went in the studio and we did it\nWe had the champagne in the studio, of course\nYou know, compliments of the company\nAnd we just laid back and did it\nSo we hope you enjoy listening to this album half as much as we enjoyed playing it for you\nBecause we had a ball\nOnly real music is gonna last\nAll that other bullshit is here today and gone tomorrow\n\nCash rules everything around me, frikki-frikki-frik\nC.R.E.A.M.; get the-get the-get the-get the\nGet the-get the-get the-get the money, dollar-dollar\nD-d-d-d-dollar-dollar, dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)\nCash rules everything around me, C.R.E.A.M\nGet the-get the-get the-get the-get the\nGet the-get the-get the-get the mon-mon-money\nFrikki-frikki-frikki, dollar-dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)\n\nYeah\nUh, after hours at Il Mulino\nOr Sotto Sotto, just talkin' women and vino\nThe contract like '91 Dan Marino\nI swear this guy Michael Rapino's boosting my ego\nOverly focused, it's far from the time to rest now\nDebates growin' 'bout who they think is the best now\nTook a while, got the jokers out of the deck now\nI'm holdin' all the cards and niggas wanna play chess now\nI hear you talking, say it twice so I know you meant it\nFuck it, I don't even tint it, they should know who's in it\nI'm authentic, real name, no gimmicks\nNo game, no scrimmage, I ain't playin' with you niggas at all\nMy classmates, they went on to be chartered accountants\nOr work with their parents\nBut thinkin' back on how they treated me\nMy high school reunion might be worth an appearance\nMake everybody have to go through security clearance\nTables turn, bridges burn, you live and learn\nWith the ink I could murder, word to my nigga Irv\nYeah, I swear shit just started clickin', dog\nYou know it's real when you are who you think you are\nYou might also like\nCash rules everything around me, frikki-frikki-frik\nC.R.E.A.M.; get the-get the-get the-get the\nGet the-get the-get the-get the money, dollar-dollar\nD-d-d-d-dollar-dollar, dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)\nCash rules everything around me, C.R.E.A.M\nGet the-get the-get the-get the-get the\nGet the-get the-get the-get the mon-mon-money\nFrikki-frikki-frikki, dollar-dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)\n\nUh, I had Benzes 'fore you had braces\nThe all-black Maybach, but I'm not a racist\nInside's whiter than Katy Perry's face is\nYellow diamonds in my Jes\u00fas\nI just might learn to speak Mandarin\nJapanese for the yen that I'm handlin'\nInternational Hov, that's my handle\nMy saint's Chang\u00f3, light a candle\nEl Gran Santo on the mantle\nCase y'all didn't know, I speak Spanish too, uh\nShout out to World Wide Wes\nEverywhere we go, we leave a worldwide mess\nYes, still Roc La Familia\nSays a lot about you if you not feeling us\nThe homie said, \"Hov, it ain't many of us\"\nI told 'em, \"Less is more, nigga, it's plenty of us\"\nCash rules everything around me, frikki-frikki-frik\nC.R.E.A.M.; get the-get the-get the-get the\nGet the-get the-get the-get the money, dollar-dollar\nD-d-d-d-dollar-dollar, dollar-dollar bill, y'all (Y'all, y'all)\nCake, cake-cake, cake-cake, cake\nFive hundred million, I got a pound cake\nNiggas is frontin', that's upside-down cake\nGet 'em a red nose, they clown cakes\nThey shoulda never let you 'round cake\nLook at my neck, I got a karat cake, uh\nNow here's the icin' on the cake\nCake, cake-cake, cake-cake, uh\nI'm just gettin' started, oh yeah, we got it, bitch\nI've done made more millionaires than the lotto did\nDame made millions, Biggs made millions\nYe made millions, Just made millions\nLyor made millions, Cam made millions\nBeans'a tell you if he wasn't in his feelings\nUh, I'm back in my bag\nMy eyes bloodshot, but my jet don't lag\nA pair of Jordan 3's, tryna chase this cash\nGucci airbag just in case we crash\nUh, last night was mad trill\nI'm fresh out of Advil\u2014Jesus, grab the wheel\n\nYeah, uh\nLook, fuck all that \"Happy to be here\" shit that y'all want me on\nI'm the big homie, they still be tryna lil bro me, dog\nLike I should fall in line\nLike I should alert niggas when I'm 'bout to drop somethin' crazy\nAnd not say I'm the greatest of my generation\nLike I should be dressing different\nLike I should be less aggressive and pessimistic\nLike I should be way more nervous and less dismissive\nLike I should be on my best behavior and not talk my shit\nAnd do it major like the niggas who paved the way for us\nLike I didn't study the game to the letter\nAnd understand that I'm not doin' it the same\nMan, I'm doing it better\nLike I didn't make that clearer this year\nLike I should feel, I don't know, guilty for saying that\nThey should put a couple more mirrors in here so I can stare at myself\nThese are usually just some thoughts that I would share with myself\nBut I thought \"Fuck it\", it's worth it to share 'em\nWith someone else other than Paris for once\nI text her from time to time, she a mom now\nI guess sometimes life forces us to calm down\nI told her she could live with me if she need to, I got a compound\nBut I think she's straight\n'Cause she supported since Hot Beats\nRight before Wayne came and got me out of the back room\nWhere I was rapping with Jas over beats that I shouldn't have\nIn the hopes for the glory\nHe walked right past in the hallway\nThree months later, I'm his artist\nHe probably wouldn't remember that story\nBut that shit stick with me always\nCouldn't believe when he called me\nYou never know what could happen to you\nAnd I just spent four Ferraris all on a brand new Bugatti\nAnd did that shit 'cause it's somethin' to do\nYeah, I guess that's just who I became, dawg\nNothing was the same, dawg"}
{"text":"I'm the fuckin' man, y'all don't get it, do ya?\nType of money, everybody acting like they knew ya\nGo Uptown, New York City, bitch\nThem Spanish girls love me like I'm Aventura\nTell Uncle Luke I'm out in Miami too\nClubbin' hard, fuckin' women, there ain't much to do\nWrist bling, got a condo up on Biscayne\nStill gettin' brain from a thang, ain't shit changed\nHow you feel, how you feel, how you feel?\nTwenty-five, sitting on twenty-five mil', uh\nI'm in the building and I'm feeling myself\nRest in peace Mac Dre, I'ma do it for the Bay, okay\nGettin' paid, we'll holler whenever that stop\nMy team good, we don't really need a mascot\nTell Tune light one, pass it like a relay\nYMCMB, you niggas more YMCA\nMe, Franny, and Mally Mall at the crib-o\nShout goes out to Niko, J, and Chubbs, shout to Gibbo\nWe got Santa Margherita by the liter\nShe know even if I'm fucking with her, I don't really need her\nAww, that's how you feel, man? That's really how you feel?\n'Cause the pimpin' ice cold, all these bitches wanna chill\nI mean maybe she won't, then again, maybe she will\nI can almost guarantee she know the deal, real nigga, what's up?\nYou might also like\nNow she want a photo, you already know, though\nYou only live once, that's the motto, nigga, YOLO\nAnd we 'bout it every day, every day, every day\nLike we sittin' on the bench, nigga, we don't really play\nEvery day, every day, fuck what anybody say\nCan't see 'em 'cause the money in the way, real nigga, what's up?\n\nOne time, fuck one time\nI'm callin' niggas out like the umpire\nSeven grams in the blunt\nAlmost drowned in her pussy, so I swam to her butt\nIt's Eastside, we in this bitch\nWish a nigga would like a tree in this bitch\nAnd if a leaf fall, put some weed in that bitch\nThat's my MO, add a B to that shit\nI'm fucked up, tore down\nI'm twisted, doorknob\nTalk stupid, off with your head\nNigga, money talks, and Mr. Ed, yeah\nI'm so Young Money\nGot a drum on the gun, Energizer Bunny\nFunny how honey ain't sweet like sugar\nAin't shit sweet, niggas on the street like hookers\nI tongue-kiss her other tongue\nSkeet, skeet, skeet, water gun\nOh my God, Becky, look at her butt, Tunechi\nNow she want a photo, you already know, though (Yeah)\nYou only live once, that's the motto, nigga, YOLO\nAnd we 'bout it every day, every day, every day\nLike we sittin' on the bench, nigga, we don't really play\nEvery day, every day, fuck what anybody say\nCan't see 'em 'cause the money in the way, real nigga, what's up?\nReal nigga, what's up?\nNow she want a photo, you already know, though\nYou only live once, that's the motto, nigga, YOLO\nAnd we 'bout it every day, every day, every day\nLike we sittin' on the bench, nigga, we don't really play\nEvery day, every day, fuck what anybody say\nCan't see 'em 'cause the money in the way, real nigga, what's up?"}
{"text":"Started\u2014\nZombie on the track\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now my whole team fuckin' here\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now the whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now my whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now the whole team fuckin' here\n\nI done kept it real from the jump\nLivin' at my momma's house, we'd argue every month\nNigga, I was tryna get it on my own\nWorkin' all night, traffic on the way home\nAnd my uncle callin' me, like, \"Where you at?\nI gave you the keys, told you bring it right back\u201d\nNigga, I just think it's funny how it goes\nNow I'm on the road, half a million for a show, and we\u2014\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now my whole team fuckin' here\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now the whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now the whole team fuckin' here\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now the whole team here, nigga\nYou might also like\nBoys tell stories 'bout the man\nSay I never struggled, wasn't hungry, yeah, I doubt it\nNigga, I could turn your boy into the man\nThere ain't really much out here that's poppin' off without us\nNigga, we just want the credit where it's due\nI'ma worry 'bout me, give a fuck about you\nNigga, just as a reminder to myself\nI wear every single chain, even when I'm in the house\n'Cause we\u2014\n\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now my whole team fuckin' here\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now the whole team here, nigga\nNo new niggas, nigga, we don't feel that\nFuck a fake friend, where your real friends at?\nWe don't like to do too much explainin'\nStory stayed the same, I never changed it\nNo new niggas, nigga, we don't feel that\nFuck a fake friend, where your real friends at?\nWe don't like to do too much explainin'\nStory stayed the same through the money and the fame\n'Cause we\u2014\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now my whole team fuckin' here\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now the whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now my whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom, now we're here\nStarted from the bottom, now the whole team here, nigga"}
{"text":"Hello?\nYeah, I just walked in\nYeah, I'm good, you still working?\nTonight, right now?\nDid I go out? Yeah, I went out, I went\nI went to a couple of clubs\nI never went to bed, shit\nWine or water?\nDid you say something about a cold drink? I don't know\nI'm delirious\n\nCups of the ros\u00e9\nBitches in my old phone\nI should call one and go home\nI've been in this club too long\nThe woman that I would try\nIs happy with a good guy\nBut I've been drinkin' so much\nThat I'ma call her anyway and say\n\nFuck that nigga that you love so bad\nI know you still think about the times we had\nI say fuck that nigga that you think you found\nAnd since you pick up, I know he's not around, oh, oh\nYou might also like\nAre you drunk right now?\nI'm just sayin' you could do better\nTell me, have you heard that lately?\nI'm just sayin' you could do better\nAnd I'll start hatin' only if you make me\n\nUh, cups of the XO\nAll my people been here\nI see all of her friends here\nGuess she don't have the time to kick it no more\nFlight's in the morning\nWhat you doin' that's so important?\nI've been drinkin' so much\nThat I'ma call you anyway and say\n\nFuck that nigga that you love so bad\nI know you still think about the times we had\nI say fuck that nigga that you think you found\nAnd since you pick up, I know he's not around\nAre you drunk right now?\nI'm just sayin' you could do better\nTell me, have you heard that lately?\nI'm just sayin' you could do better\nAnd I'll start hatin' only if you make me\nI think I'm addicted to naked pictures\nAnd sittin' talkin' 'bout bitches that we almost had\nI don't think I'm conscious of makin' monsters\nOutta the women I sponsor 'til it all goes bad\nBut, shit, it's all good\nWe threw a party, yeah, we threw a party\nBitches came over, yeah, we threw a party\nI was just callin' 'cause they were just leavin'\nTalk to me, please, don't have much to believe in\nI need you right now, are you down to listen to me?\nToo many drinks have been given to me\nI got some women that's livin' off me\nPaid for their flights and hotels, I'm ashamed\nBet that you know them, I won't say no names\nAfter a while, girl, they all seem the same\nI've had sex four times this week, I'll explain\nHavin' a hard time adjustin' to fame\nSprite in there mixed up\nI've been talkin' crazy, girl, I'm lucky that you picked up\nLucky that you stayed on\nI need someone to put this weight on\nFuck, I'm sorry\nAre you drunk right now?\nI'm just sayin' you could do better\nTell me, have you heard that lately?\nI'm just sayin' you could do better\nAnd I'll start hatin' only if you make me\nYou not gon' come?\nI guess I'm 'bout to just kick it here then\n\nJust throw up while I hold your hair back\nHer white friend said, \"You niggas crazy,\" I hope no one heard that\nYeah, I hope no one heard that\n'Cause if they did, we gon' be in some trouble, yeah\nIf they did, we gon' be in some trouble, trouble, oh"}
{"text":"Gotta do what I gotta do\nYeah\nUh\n\nAll my exes live in Texas like I'm George Strait\nOr they go to Georgia State where\nTuition is handled by some random nigga that live in Atlanta\nThat she only see when she feels obligated\nAdmitted it to me the first time we dated\nBut she was no angel and we never waited\nI took her for sushi, she wanted to fuck\nSo we took it to go, told 'em don't even plate it\nAnd we never talked too much after I blew up\nJust only \"hello\" or a \"happy belated\"\nAnd I think I text her and told her I made it\nAnd that's when she text me and told me she prayed it\nAnd that's when I text her and told her I love her\nThen right after, texted and told her I'm faded\nShe asked what have I learned since getting richer?\nI learned workin' with the negatives could make for better pictures\nI learned Hennessy and enemies is one hell of a mixture\nEven though it's fucked up, girl, I'm still fuckin' with ya, damn\nIs it the fall? Time for me to revisit the past\nThere's women to call, there's albums to drop, there's liquor involved\nThere's stories to tell, we been through it all, damn\nInterviews are like confessions\nGet the fuck up out my dressing room, confusing me with questions like\nYou might also like\nDo you love this shit?\nAre you high right now?\nDo you ever get nervous?\nAre you single?\nI heard you fuck your girl, is it true?\nYou gettin' money?\nYou think them niggas you with is with you?\n\nAnd I say hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah\nFuckin' right, fuckin' right, alright\nAnd we say hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah\nFuckin' right, fuckin' right, alright\n\nUh, so much for being optimistic\nThey say love is in the air, so I\nHold my breath 'til my face turn purple\nKeep a few bad bitches in my circle\nMy nuts hang like ain't no curfew\nBitch, if you wave, then I will surf you\nI flew jet, she flew commercial\nBut we still met later that night\nAfter my session, she came over\nI was aggressive and she was sober\nI gave her a pill, she started confessin'\nAnd started undressin' and asked me to hold her\nAnd so I did, but that was last month\nAnd now she's texting me asking for closure, damn\nShe say this shit gon' catch up to me, I keep tissue paper\nWe eat each other whenever we at the dinner table\nShe say she hate that she love me and she wish I was average\nShit, sometimes I wish the same and I wish she wasn't married\nPromises, I hope I never break 'em\nMet a female dragon, had a fire conversation\nBut interviews are like confessions\nGet the fuck up out my bedroom, confusing me with questions like\nDo you love this shit?\nAre you high right now?\nDo you ever get nervous?\nAre you single?\nI heard you fuck your girl, is it true?\nYou gettin' money?\nYou think them niggas you with is with you?\n\nAnd I say hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah\nFuckin' right, fuckin' right, alright\nAnd we say hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah\nFuckin' right, damn right, alright\nAnd we say hell yeah, hell yeah, hell yeah\nFuckin' right, fuckin' right, alright\nAnd we say hell yeah, yeah, yeah, hell yeah\nFuckin' right, damn right, alright, aw, yeah\n\nYeah\nYeah\nAw, yeah, aw, yeah\nAw, yeah, aw, yeah"}
{"text":"Hold on, hold on, fuck that\nFuck that shit\nHold on, I got to start this mothafuckin' record over again, wait a minute\nFuck that shit\nStill on this mothafuckin\u2019 record\nI'ma play this mothafucka for y'all\nAyy, y\u2019all get some more drinks goin' on\nI'll sound a whole lot better\n\nListen\nSeein' you got ritualistic\nCleansin' my soul of addiction for now\n'Cause I'm fallin' apart, yeah\nTension\nBetween us just like picket fences\nYou got issues that I won\u2019t mention for now\n\u2019Cause we're fallin\u2019 apart\n\nPassionate from miles away\nPassive with the things you say\nPassin' up on my old ways\nI can't blame you, no, no\nPassionate from miles away\nPassive with the things you say\nPassin' up on my old ways\nI can\u2019t blame you, no, no\nYou might also like\nListen\nHarder buildin' trust from a distance\nI think we should rule out commitment for now\n'Cause we're fallin' apart\nLeavin'\nYou're just doing that to get even\nDon't pick up the pieces, just leave it for now\nThey keep fallin' apart\n\nPassionate from miles away\nPassive with the things you say\nPassin' up on my old ways\nI can't blame you, no, no\nPassionate from miles away\nPassive with the things you say\nPassin' up on my old ways\nI can't blame you, no, no\n\nUm, trying to think of the right thing to say"}
{"text":"I wanna know who mothafuckin' representin' in here tonight\nHold on, hold on\nI keep lettin' you back in (You back in)\nHow can I explain myself?\n\nCare for me, care for me, you said you'd care for me\nThere for me, there for me, said you'd be there for me\n(Lil Weezyana shit)\nCry for me, cry for me, you said you'd die for me\n(Murda on the beat)\nGive to me, give to me, why won't you live for me?\nCare for me, care for me, I know you care for me\n(A song for y'all to cut up to, you know?)\nThere for me, there for me, said you'd be there for me (Yeah)\nCry for me, cry for me, you said you'd die for me\nGive to me, give to me, why won't you live for me?\n\nEverybody get your mothafuckin' roll on\nI know shorty and she doesn't want no slow song\nHad a man last year, life goes on\nHaven't let that thing loose, girl, in so long\nYou've been inside, know you like to lay low\nI've been peepin' what you bringin' to the table\nWorkin' hard, girl, everything paid for\nFirst-last, phone bill, car note, cable\nWith your phone out, gotta hit them angles\nWith your phone out, snappin' like you Fabo\nAnd you showin' off, but it's alright\nAnd you showin' off, but it's alright (Alright!)\nIt's a short life, yeah\nYou might also like\nCare for me, care for me, you said you'd care for me\nThere for me, there for me, said you'd be there for me\nCry for me, cry for me, you said you'd die for me\nGive to me, give to me, why won't you live for me?\n\nThat's a real one in your reflection\nWithout a follow, without a mention\nYou really pipin' up on these niggas\nYou gotta be nice for what to these niggas?\n\nI understand, you got a hunnid bands\nYou got a baby Benz, you got some bad friends\nHigh school pics, you was even bad then\nYou ain't stressin' off no lover in the past tense\nYou already had them\nWork at 8 A.M., finish 'round five\nHoes talk down, you don't see 'em outside\nYeah, they don't really be the same offline\nYou know dark days, you know hard times\nDoin' overtime for the last month\nSaturday, call the girls, get 'em gassed up\nGotta hit the club, gotta make that ass jump\nGotta hit the club like you hit them mothafuckin' angles\nWith your phone out, snappin' like you Fabo\nAnd you showin' off, but it's alright\nAnd you showin' off, but it's alright (Alright!)\nIt's a short life\nUh-huh (Oh yeah)\nThese hoes (They mad)\nYour boy (I had)\nI made (Watch the breakdown)\n\nCare for me, care for me, you said you'd care for me\nThere for me, there for me, said you'd be there for me\nCry for me, cry for me, you said you'd die for me\nGive to me, give to me, why won't you live for me?\n\nGotta make that jump, gotta make that, gotta, gotta make that\nGotta make that jump, gotta make that, gotta, gotta make that\nGotta, gotta, gotta g-g-gotta, g-g-gotta, gotta\nGotta, g-g-gotta, gotta, gotta make that jump, jump (Let's go)\nBend it over, lift it up, bend it over, lift it up\nMake that jump, jump\nBend it over, lift it up, bend it over, lift it up\nMake that jump, jump\nBend it over, over, over, over, over, lift it up\nMake that jump, jump\nBend it over, lift it up (Make that jump, jump)\nBend it over, lift it up (Make that jump, jump)\nThat's a real one in your reflection\nWithout a follow, without a mention\nYou really pipin' up on these niggas\nYou gotta be nice for what to these niggas?\nI understand\n\nCare for me, care for me, you said you'd care for me\nThere for me, there for me, said you'd be there for me\nGive to me, give to me, why won't you live for me?\nCry for me, cry for me, you said you'd cry for me\n\nGotta hit the club like you hit them, hit them, hit them angles\n(BlaqNmilD, you a genius, you diggin' me?)\nIt's a short life, yeah\nCry for me, cry for me, you said you'd die for me\nGive to me, give to me, why won't you live for me?"}
{"text":"\nLickwood means \"rewind\" and gunshot means \"forward\"\nYou requested it, so we rewind\nYeah, way, way, way up\nTurn it all up, yeah, look\n\nI got enemies,  got a lot of enemies\nGot a lot of people tryna drain me of my energy\nThey tryna take the wave from a nigga\nFuckin' with the kid and pray for your nigga\nI got girls in real life tryna fuck up my day\nFuck goin' online, that ain't part of my day\nI got real shit poppin' with my family too\nI got niggas that can never leave Canada too (Six)\nI got two mortgages, thirty million in total\nI got niggas that'll still try fuckin' me over\nI got rap niggas that I gotta act like I like\nBut my actin' days are over, fuck them niggas for life, yeah\n\nI got enemies,  got a lot of enemies\nGot a lot of people tryna drain me of this energy\nThey tryna take the wave from a nigga\nFuckin' with the kid and pray for your nigga\nYou might also like\nI got people talkin' down, man, like I give a fuck\nI bought this one a purse, I bought this one a truck\nI bought this one a house, I bought this one a mall\nI keep buyin' shit, just make sure you keep track of it all\nI got bitches askin' me about the code for the Wi-Fi\nSo they can talk about they Timeline\nAnd show me pictures of they friends\nJust to tell me they ain't really friends\nEx-girl, she the female version of me\nI got strippers in my life, but they virgins to me\nI hear everybody talkin' 'bout what they gon' be\nI got high hopes for you niggas, we gon' see\nI got money in the courts 'til all my niggas are free\n'Bout to call your ass a Uber, I got somewhere to be\nI hear fairy tales 'bout how they gon' run up on me\nWell, run up when you see me, then, and we gon' see\nI got enemies,  got a lot of enemies\nGot a lot of people tryna drain me of this energy\nThey tryna take the wave from a nigga\nFuckin' with the kid and pray for your nigga\n\nNah, fuck all of you niggas, I ain't finished\nY'all don't wanna hear me say it's a go\nY'all don't wanna see Win Win, 50 or Whoa\nI got real ones livin' past Kennedy Road\nI got real ones wit' me everywhere that I go\nI'm tryna tell ya I got enemies, got a lot of enemies\nEvery time I see 'em, somethin' wrong with their memory\nTryna take the wave from a nigga\nSo tired of savin' all these niggas, mayne\nYeah, run 'em\nI got enemies, got a lot of enemies\nGot a lot of people tryna drain me of this energy\nThey tryna take the wave from a nigga\nFuckin' with the kid and pray for your nigga\n(I'm off this)"}
{"text":"Breaking news, my niggas\nIf your girlfriend has went to any\nSeason opener basketball game\nBest believe, she's fucking some niggas on that team\nShe's fucking somebody on the basketball team\nIf she's at the game\nRight, right, yeah\n\nI say bounce that shit like woah\nYeah, bounce that shit like woah\nThis is not a fairytale, I already know how you like it\nTake you to the mall and get you a new outfit\nGirl, that's just some child's play\nBounce that shit like woah, woah, woah\nWoah, woah, heard all of the stories about you\nI already know and I like it\nTake you to the mall and get you a new outfit\nGirl, that's just some child's play\nBounce that shit like woah, yeah\nBounce that shit like woah\n\nWhy you gotta fight with me at Cheesecake?\nYou know I love to go there\nSay I'm actin' lightskin, I can't take you nowhere\nThis a place for families that drive Camrys and go to Disney\nThey don't need to know all of our business\nYou wildin', you super childish, you go to CVS for Kotex\nIn my Bugatti, I took the key and tried to hide it\nSo you can't drive it, and put on mileage\nThen you find it, awkward silence\nMama is a saint, yes, she raised me real good\nAll because of her I don't do you like I should\nDon't make me give you back to the hood\nDon't make me give you back\nYou might also like\nI say bounce that shit like woah\nYeah, bounce that shit like woah\nThis is not a fairytale, I already know how you like it\nTake you to the mall and get you a new outfit\nGirl that's just some child's play\nBounce that shit like woah, woah, woah\nWoah, woah, heard all of the stories about you\nI already know and I like it\nTake you to the mall and get you a new outfit\nGirl, that's just some child's play\nBounce that shit like woah, yeah\nBounce that shit like woah\n\nYeah, rode that dick like a soldier\nShe rode it like a soldier\nShe rode it like a jungle soldier\nShe rode it like a, yeah, yeah\nI got it, yeah\n\nYou don't wanna fall in love, I know\nI'm not someone you should trust, I know\nI give Chanel out like a hug, I know\nI knew a couple of your friends way before\nHow many girls have slept in this bed?\nSay a different number than the one that's in my head\nLying to protect you, I be doing that a lot\nMy past checkered like the Louis you just got\nMarried in our twenties, now, where the fun in that?\nMy city love me like a college running back\nPack a bag, you gon' end up staying where I'm at\nTook you from the hood and I could never give you back\nI just wanna let you know that someone love you back\nAll the Cadillac like I'm Teddy Pendergrass\nWhippin' on this shit, I'm getting ready, where you at?\nRiding...\nShe rode that dick like a soldier\nShe rode it like a soldier\nShe rode it like a Melpomene soldier\nShe rode that dick like a soldier\nShe rode it like a soldier\nShe rode it like a jungle soldier\nRode that dick like a soldier\nShe rode it like a soldier\nShe rode it like a Melpomene soldier\nBurrrrat stick it, b-burrrrat stick it\nBurrrrat stick it, ba-ba-ba stick it\nBurrrrat stick it, ba-ba-ba stick it\nBurrrrat stick it, ba-ba-ba stick it\nBurrrrat stick it, ba-ba-ba stick it\nBurrrrat stick it, ba-ba-ba stick it\n\nThank you, thanks, Drake, thanks baby\nMotherfuckers drunk and tired\nTired, I'm tired, boss"}
{"text":"Oh yeah, yeah, yeah\nOh yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah\n\nLook...I don't know how to talk to you\nI don't know how to ask you if you're okay\nMy friends always feel the need to tell me things\nSeems like they're just happier than us these days\nYeah\nThese days I don't know how to talk to you\nI don't know how to be there when you need me\nIt feels like the only time you see me\nIs when you turn your head to the side and look at me differently\nYeah\n\nAnd last night I think I lost my patience\nLast night, I got high as your expectations\nLast night, I came to a realization\nAnd I hope you can take it\nI hope you can take it, oh\n\nI'm too good to you\nI'm way too good to you\nYou take my love for granted\nI just don't understand it\nNo, I'm too good to you\nI'm way too good to you\nYou take my love for granted\nI just don't understand it\nYou might also like\nI don't know how to talk to you\nI just know I found myself getting lost with you\nLately you just make me work too hard for you\nGot me on flights overseas, and I still can't get across to you\n\nAnd last night I think I lost my patience\nLast night, I got high as your expectations\nLast night, I came to a realization\nAnd I hope you can take it\nI hope you can take it, oh\n\nI'm too good to you\nI'm way too good to you\nYou take my love for granted\nI just don't understand it\nNo, I'm too good to you\nI'm way too good to you\nYou take my love for granted\nI just don't understand it\n\nYears go by too fast\nI can't keep track\nHow long did we last?\nI feel bad for asking\nIt can't end like this\nWe gotta take time with this\nCock up yuh bumper, sit down pon it\nLet me see if this is something I can fix (Six)\nYou got somebody other than me\nDon't play the victim when you're with me\nFree time is costing me more than it seems\nSacrificing things\nAnd I wanna tell you my intentions\nI wanna do the things that I mention\nI wanna benefit from the friendship\nI wanna get the late night message from you, from you\nI put my hands around you\nGotta get a handle on you\nGotta get a handle on the fact that I\nI'm too good to you\nI'm way too good to you\nYou take my love for granted\nI just don't understand it\nNo, I'm too good to you\nI'm way too good to you\nYou take my love for granted\nI just don't understand it\nGyal a you mi waan\nPay fi yuh visa meck yo fly out regular\nBaby, cock up yuh bumper, sit down pon it\nGyal yo pum pum good and yuh fit\nMi wi give you everything weh deh in my wallet\nAnd in my pocket\nCock up yuh bumper, sit down pon it\nGyal yo pum pum good and yuh fit\nMi wi give you everything weh deh in my wallet\nAnd in my pocket"}
{"text":"(Put a bib on me)\n(Put a bib on me)\nRock me real slowly\nPut a bib on me\nI'm just like a baby, droolin' over you\nThe things you do\n\nThese days I'm lettin' God handle all things above me\nThe things I can't change are the reason you love me\nListen, you can hear them callin' my name\nI'm all over the place, I can't sit in one place\nI'm not ashamed at all\nStill findin' myself, let alone a soulmate, I'm just sayin'\nFeel like we one and the same\nOur relationship changed that, or it never existed\nWhenever they say somethin' 'bout us, you listen\nBut fuck what they talkin' about on your timeline\nThat's cuttin' all into my time with you\nFuck what they talkin' about on your timeline\nThat's cuttin' all into my time with you\nMy time with you, my\n\nRock me real slowly\nPut a bib on me\nI'm just like a baby, droolin' over you\nThe things you do\nYou might also like\nShe said, \"You're my everything\"\n\"I love you through everything\"\nI done did everything to her\nShe forgave me for everything\nThis a \"forever\" thing\nHate that I treat it like it's a \"whatever\" thing\nTrust me, girl, this shit is everything to me\nShe from the jungle\nShe from the jungle\nI take somebody else's car, drive there undercover\nThis shit is everything to me\nThis shit is everything\nDon't know where we stand\nI used to hit you 'bout everything, oh\nAre we still good? Are we still good?\nAre we still good? Are we still good?\nIf I need to talk, are you around?\nAre you down for the cause?\nAre you down? Are you down? Are you down?\nAre you down for the cause?\nAre you down? Are you down? Are you down?\nAre you down for the cause?\nYou still down? You still down? You still down?\n\nRock me real slowly (Yeah)\nPut a bib on me\nI'm just like a baby, droolin' over you\n(Give me back) The things you do\nYeah, these days, these new girls, they got me nervous\nThey go to school and do bottle service\nThey can't decide, they keep switchin' majors\nBeing indecisive makes me anxious\nCall your number and it's out of service\nWho can I call for your information?\nWhat am I supposed to do after we done everything that we done?\nWho is your replacement?\nAre we still good? Are we still good?\nAre we still good? Are we still good?\n\n(The things you do)\n(Rock me real slowly)\n(Rock me real slowly)\n(I'm just like a baby, droolin' over you)\n(Rock me real slowly)\n(Rock\u2500, put a bib on me)\n(Give me back)"}
{"text":"Somewhere between psychotic and iconic\nSomewhere between I want it and I got it\nSomewhere between I'm sober and I'm lifted\nSomewhere between a mistress and commitment\nBut I stay down, girl, I always stay down\nGet down, never lay down\nPromise to break everybody off before I break down\nEveryone just wait now, so much on my plate now\nPeople I believed in, they don't even show they face now\nWhat they got to say now? Nothin' they can say now\nNothin' really changed but still they look at me a way now\nWhat more can I say now? What more can I say now?\nYou might feel like nothin' was the same\n\nI still been drinkin' on the low, mobbin' on the low\nFuckin' on the low, smokin' on the low\nI still been plottin' on the low, schemin' on the low\nThe furthest thing from perfect, like everyone I know\nI just been drinkin' on the low, mobbin' on the low\nFuckin' on the low, smokin' on the low\nI just been plottin' on the low, schemin' on the low\nThe furthest thing from perfect, like everyone I know\n\nAnd I hate that you don't think I belong to ya\nJust too busy runnin' shit to run home to ya\nYou know that paper my passion\nBittersweet celebrations, I know I can't change what happened\nI can't help it, I can't help it, I was young and I was selfish\nI made every woman feel like she was mine and no one else's\nAnd now you hate me, stop pretendin', stop that frontin', I can't take it\nGirl, don't treat me like a stranger, girl, you know I seen you naked\nGirl, you know that I remember, don't be a pretender\nGettin' high at the condo, that's when it all comes together\nYou know I stay reminiscing and make-up sex is tradition\nBut you been missin', girl, and you might feel like nothin' was the same\nYou might also like\nI still been drinkin' on the low, mobbin' on the low\nFuckin' on the low, smokin' on the low\nI still been plottin' on the low, schemin' on the low\nThe furthest thing from perfect, like everyone I know\nI just been drinkin' on the low, mobbin' on the low\nFuckin' on the low, smokin' on the low\nI just been plottin' on the low, schemin' on the low\nThe furthest thing from perfect, like everyone I know\n\nDrinkin', smokin', fuckin', plottin'\nSchemin', plottin', schemin', gettin' money\nDrinkin', fuckin', smokin', plottin'\nSchemin', plottin', schemin', gettin' money\n\nUh, this the life for me\nMy momma told me this was right for me\nI got 'em worried, like make sure you save a slice for me\nI should have Spoons serve you up with a fork and knife for me\nYour actions make us doubt you\nYour lack of effort got me rappin' different\nThis the shit I wanna go out to\nPlay this shit at my funeral if they catch me slippin'\nNaked women swimmin', that's just how I'm livin'\nDonate a million to some children, that's just how I'm feelin'\nA nigga fillin' up arenas, who the fuck could see us?\nI had to Derrick Rose the knee up before I got the re-up\nYours truly, the boy\nI just build and build more, y'all niggas build to destroy\nY'all niggas party too much, man, I just chill and record\nNo filler, you feel it now if you ain't feel it before\nYes, Lord, this the shit I wanna go out to\nYeah, yeah, this the shit I wanna go out to"}
{"text":"How I'm feeling, it doesn't matter\n'Cause you know I'm okay\nInstead, I ask myself, \"Why do you worry?\"\nWhen you know, you know I'm the same\nI know, I know you don't love me, baby\nThey're trying to take you away from me\nOnly over my dead body\n\nI think I killed everybody in the game last year\nMan, fuck it, I was on, though\nAnd I thought I found the girl of my dreams at the strip club\nMmm-mmm, fuck it, I was wrong, though\nShout out to all my niggas livin' tax-free\nNowadays, it's six figures when they tax me\nOh well, guess you lose some and win some\nLong as the outcome is income\nYou know I want it all and then some\nShout out to Asian girls, let the lights dim some\nShots came, I don't know where they was sent from\nProbably some bad hoes I'm 'bout to take the hint from\nYeah, you know me well, nigga, yeah\nI mean you ain't the only real nigga\nThey got me on these white women like Seal, nigga\nSlave to the pussy, but I'm just playin' the field, nigga, yeah\nAre these people really discussin' my career again?\nAskin' if I'll be goin' platinum in a year again?\nDon't I got the shit the world wanna hear again?\nDon't Michael Jordan still got his hoop earring in?\nMan, all of your flows bore me, paint dryin'\nAnd I don't ever be trippin' off of what ain't mine\nAnd I be hearin' the shit you say through the grapevine\nBut jealousy is just love and hate at the same time, yeah\nIt's been that way from the beginnin'\nI just been playin', I ain't even notice I was winnin'\nAnd this is the only sound you should fear\nMan, these kids wear crowns over here and everything is alright\nYou might also like\nOh, I know you don't love me, baby\nThey're trying to take you away from me\nOnly over my dead body\nYou say I'm old news, well, who the new star?\n'Cause if I'm goin' anywhere, it's probably too far\nJust performed at a bar mitzvah over in the States\nUsed half of the money to beat my brother's case\nRed wine over fed time\nBut shout out to the niggas that's doin' dead time\nAnd shout out to the bitches there when it's bedtime\nAnd fuck you to the niggas that think it's their time\nYeah, don't make me take your life apart, boy\nYou and whoever the fuck gave you your start, boy\nOh, you wanna be a motherfuckin' funny guy?\nDon't make me break your Kevin Hart, boy\nYeah, it's whatever\nYou know, feelin' good, livin' better\nI think maybe I was numb to it last year\nBut you know I feel it now more than ever\nMy city love me like Mac Dre in the Bay\nSecond album, I'm back pavin' the way\nThe backpackers are back on the bandwagon\nLike this was my comeback season back, back in the day\nAnd I met your baby moms last night\nWe took a picture together, I hope she frames it\nAnd I was drinkin' at the Palms last night\nAnd ended up losin' everything that I came with, yeah\nFeel like I've been here before, huh?\nI still got ten years to go, huh?\nAnd this is the only sound you should fear\nMan, these kids wear crowns over here and everything is alright\nOh, I know you don't love me, baby\nThey're trying to take you away from me\nOnly over my dead body\n\nThree in the morning, still going down"}
{"text":"Worst\u2014\nMotherfucker never loved us\nFucker never loved us\nYou ain't know, now you know now\nStill at it, scrub Js with a toothbrush\nShit, niggas still playing my old shit\nBut your shit is like the police askin' us questions\nNigga, we don't know shit\nFlexin'\u2014nigga, I'm just flexin'\nNigga never loved us\nDo it look like we stressin'?\nLook at you, look at you and look at you\nAww, I'm glad that they chose us\n'Cause, man, it's a mission\nTryna fight to the finish just to see, am I finished?\n\nOn my worst behavior, no?\nThey used to never want to hear us\nRemember? Motherfucker never loved us\nRemember? Motherfucker\nRemember? Motherfucker never loved us\nI'm on my worst behavior\nDon't you ever get it fucked up\nMotherfuckers never loved us\nMan, motherfuckers never loved us\nWorst behavior\nMotherfuckers never loved us\nFucker never loved us\nWorst behavior\nYou might also like\nHold up, hold my phone\nMotherfuckers never loved us\nFucker never loved us\nNow you want to roll one\nMotherfucker never loved us\nSo everywhere we go now, full cup\nAlways hated the boy, but now the boy is the man\nMotherfucker, I done growed up\nYou know me? You know me?\nI'm liable to do anything when it comes to that you owe me\nYou owe me, you owe me\nBitch, you better have my money when I come for that shit like O.D.B\n\nOn my worst behavior, no?\nThey used to never want to hear us\nRemember? Motherfucker never loved us\nRemember? Motherfucker\nRemember? Motherfucker never loved us\nI'm on my worst behavior\nDon't you ever get it fucked up\nMotherfuckers never loved us\nMan, motherfuckers never loved us\nWorst behavior\nMothafuckers never loved us\nFucker never loved us\nWorst behavior\nWho's hot, who not?\nTell me, who rock, who sell out in stores?\nYou tell me who flop, who copped the new drop\nWhose jewels got rocks\nWho else making rap albums, doing numbers like it's pop?\nSame old pimp, Drake, you know ain't nothin' changed\nWith these funny style niggas, we done put on in the game\nI just ask for some blessings at my grandmother's grave\nThen it's back to L.A., open the mail, starin' at the check\nEnough to make you throw up, man, it's gross what I net\nI'm with my whole set, tennis matches at the crib\nI swear I could beat Serena when she playin' with her left\nOh, where I reside it look like a resort inside\nNigga, where your shit from? I imported mine\nBar mitzvah money like my last name Mordecai\nFuck you, bitch, I'm more than high\nMy momma probably hear that and be mortified\nThis ain't the son you raised who used to take the Acura\n5 a.m. then go and shoot Degrassi up on Morningside\nFor all the stuntin', I'll forever be immortalized\nYeah, back and forth across the borderline\nHate to leave the city, but I've got to do the overtime\nGone all the time, even the important times\nI should let you know ahead I'm comin' back on my worst behavior\nRemember?\nRemember? Motherfucker\nRemember?\nHold up, hold my phone\nThey used to never want to hear us\nRemember? Motherfucker never loved us\nRemember? Motherfucker\nRemember? Worst behavior"}
{"text":"\nLooking, looking, looking\nLooking, looking, looking\nLooking, looking\nLooking\nLooking\n\nLooking for revenge\nAll summer sixteen\nAll summer sixteen\nPlaying dirty not clean\nOut in front of Four Seasons\nLooking like a damn football team\nAll in the same thing\nAll repping one thing\nLooking for revenge\n\nTo do what you couldn't do\nTell Obama that my verses are just like the whips that he in\nThey bulletproof\nMinus twenty we in Pitfield\nThat Kai's kitchen in a Canada Goose\nFamous as fuck but I\u2019m still in the cut when they round up the troops\nI\u2019m just a sicko, a real sicko when you get to know me nigga\nI let the diss record drop, you was staying right below me, nigga\nWe must have played it a hundred times, you was going to bed\nWhy would I put on a vest? I expect you to aim for the head\nI coulda killed you the first time\nYou don\u2019t have to try and say it louder nigga\nTrust, we heard you the first time\nIt\u2019s nothing personal I would have done it to anyone\nAnd I blame where I came from\nAnd I blame all my day ones\nYou know Chubbs like Draymond\nYou better off not saying nothing\nThem boys they a handful\nThen I hit \u2018em with the Hotline\nChris Breezy with the dance moves\nMo-G with the dance moves\nAve Boy with the dance moves\nJimi Hendrix with the solo\nThose are strings that you can\u2019t pull\nYeah, and I could really dish it out\nCome and get it from the source\nFuck with all the word of mouth\nGolden State running practice at my house\nNigga, what am I about?\nYou gon\u2019 really feel it now\nI\u2019m out here\u2026\nYou might also like\nLooking for revenge\nAll summer sixteen\nAll summer sixteen\nPlaying dirty not clean\nOut in front of Four Seasons\nLooking like a damn football team\nAll repping one thing\nLooking for revenge\n\nAll you boys in the new Toronto want to be me a little\nAll your exes know I like my O\u2019s with a V in the middle\nYou would love it if I went away or didn\u2019t say nothing else\nHow am I keeping it real by keeping this shit to myself?\nYou was never gang, gang, gang, gang, you was never one of us\nHad us fooled for a minute there, now we done all grown up\nBut I\u2019m better off anyway, y\u2019all never gon\u2019 finish Drake\nSay you seeing \u2018bout it when you see me man y\u2019all never home anyway\nThought of things that you shoulda said, said things that you shouldn\u2019t say\nWe even gave y'all the whole money play and y'all broke to this day\n\u201cOh it\u2019s your time now\u201d yeah, that\u2019s what everybody say\nI used to wanna be on Roc-A-Fella then I turned into Jay\nNow I got a house in LA, now I got a bigger pool than Ye\nAnd look man, Ye\u2019s pool is nice, mine's just bigger's what I\u2019m saying\nI\u2019m that nigga\u2019s what I\u2019m saying\nGetting things done around here\nHow you let me run it down here?\nI\u2019m not even from around here\nSix, six, six, six, six, soon as I\u2019m back in the city they throw a parade\nI might get a key to the city and give it to Wayne\nOr give it to one of the young boys to carry the wave\nYeah, so trust me, they\u2019ll be out here\u2026\nLooking for revenge\nAll summer sixteen\nAll summer sixteen\nPlaying dirty not clean\nOut in front of Four Seasons\nLooking like a damn football team\nAll repping one thing\nLooking for...\n\nThey don\u2019t want us to have a bigger pool than Kanye"}
{"text":"Yeah\nYeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah\nLook, look\n\nI don't know why they been lyin' but your shit is not that inspirin'\nBank account statement just look like I'm ready for early retirement\nFuck any nigga that's talking that shit just to get a reaction\nFuck going platinum, I look at my wrist and it's already platinum\nI am the kid with the motor mouth\nI am the one you should worry 'bout\nI don't know who you're referring to\nWho is this nigga you heard about?\nSomeone just talking that bullshit\nMan, someone just gave you the run-around\nNiggas downplayin' the money\nBut that's what you do when the money down\nI don't waste time puttin' money down\nI just go straight to who got it and buy it in cash\nPussy so good that you gotta come see me on tour\nAnd you gotta fly in first class\nThis has been years in the makin'\nIt's all for the city, they know I come right every summer\nCash Money Records forever, I'm always big timin'\nBitch, I came up right under Stunna, you know it\nYou might also like\nJealousy in the air tonight, I could tell\nI will never understand that, but oh well\nBeen ready, it's real, I don't know about you\nShe just want to smoke and fuck\nI said, \"Girl, that's all that we do\"\nOkay, now you're talkin' my language\nNow you're talkin' my language\nNow you're talkin' my language\nNow you're talkin' my language\nBeen ready, it's real, I don't know about you\nShe just want to smoke and fuck\nI said, \"Girl, that's all that we do\"\n\nI'm 'bout to roll one and light it\nAnd fuck it, man, no one's invited\nI got to kill off the weak shit that's got all you niggas excited\nI can't even listen, you wildin'\nI'd much rather sit here in silence\nI send all my money to banks in the islands\nAnd eat with Italians, I do\nPeople are funny\nYou don't even know 'bout the shit that I been through\nI just want some head in a comfortable bed\nIt could all be so simple\nTalkin' that shit with your back to me\nJust know it always get back to me\nCome get your girl\nShe been here for three days and she way too attached to me\nHate when they get too attached to me\nI got to get on the bus and get back on the road\nGet what I can out the country\nAnd then I just get on the jet and go back to the cold\nCan't even drive with the top off\nBeen workin' so hard on the album, I missed the whole summer\nI just might bring in some girls from Miami to heat up the city\nAnd that's word to Stunna, you know it\nJealousy in the air tonight, I could tell\nI will never understand that, but oh well\nBeen ready, it's real, I don't know about you\nShe just want to smoke and fuck\nI said, \"Girl, that's all that we do\"\nOkay, now you're talkin' my language\nNow you're talkin' my language\nNow you're talkin' my language\nNow you're talkin' my language\nBeen ready, it's real, I don't know about you\nShe just want to smoke and fuck\nI said, \"Girl, that's all that we do\"\n\nFamous and dangerous\nYou understand me?\nShowtime, headlines, Big Tyme\n\"Sunshine,\" tote 9's, bust mines\nFlatline, hard grind, high life\nStay fly, it's jet time \u2013 stunt, nigga!\nEvery time you see a nigga \u2013 stunt, nigga!\nEvery time you see a nigga \u2013 stunt, nigga!\nSwag on head to feet nigga \u2013 stunt, nigga!\nI just might bring in some girls from Miami to heat up the city\nAnd that's word to Stunna, you know it"}
{"text":"Look, I know girls love Beyonc\u00e9\nGirls love to fuck with your conscience\nGirls hate when niggas go missing\nAnd shawty you ain't no different\nThese days it's hard to meet women\nFeel like my love life is finished\nI've been avoiding commitment\nThat's why I'm in this position\nI'm scared to let somebody in on this\nNo new friends, no, no, no\nYou know how this shit go\nYou got your fair share of admirers that call your phone\nYou try to act like it's just me, but I am not alone\nBut if you're alone, then\nSay my name, say my name\nWhen no one is around you\nSay, \"Baby, I love you\"\nIf you ain't running games\nSay my name, say my name\nYou actin' kinda shady, baby\nWhy the sudden change?\nSay my name\nSay my name\nSay my name\nSay my name, say my name\nIf no one is around you\nYou might also like\nYeah, uh\nSay my name, say my name\n'Cause those other men are practice\nAnd this ain't no time for actin'\nAnd this ain't no time for games\nAnd this ain't no time for uncertainty\nAnd this ain't no time for locking your phone and not coming home\nAnd startin' some shit when I'm in the zone\nThis is why I've been saying\nNo new friends, no, no, no\nYou know how this shit goes\nThis is not four years ago\nTime escapes me\nNow forget how it felt when this shit move slow\nI come through in whips that make a young boy take the long way home\nAll my young boys 'round me saying, \"Get money and fuck these hoes\"\nWhere we learn these values? I do not know what to tell you\nI'm just trying to find a reason not to go out every evening\nI need someone that'll help me think of someone besides myself\nI need someone I leave through the front door with\n'Cause we don't wanna hide no more\nPlus you're not shy no more\nNeither of us wanna play the side no more\nNo, I'm not alone\nEven though nothing was the same\nLet me get your ass alone\nLet me make you say my name\nSay my name\nSay my name, say my name\nWhen no one is around you\nSay, \"Baby, I love you\"\nIf you ain't running games\nSay my name, say my name\nYou actin' kinda shady, baby\nWhy the sudden change?\nSay my name\nSay my name\nSay my name\nSay my name, say my name\nIf no one is around you"}
{"text":"That's the shit I'm talking 'bout though, like you changed up, you don't even fuckin' link nobody no more, you just dash me away like a cyattie. Yo, you cheesed me dog\n\nAlways felt like my vision been bigger than the bigger picture\nCrazy how you gotta wait until it's dark out to see who really with you\nCrazy how even when it miss you\nShit'll come back around and get you\nCrazy like all my niggas, crazy like all my niggas\nRemember I deleted all my other girls' numbers out the phone for you?\nRemember when you had to take the bar exam\nI drove in the snow for you? Yeah\nYou probably don't remember half the shit a nigga did for you, yeah\n\nYeah, you ain't really fuck with me way back then\nBut how 'bout now? (Now)\n'Cause I'm up right now (I'm up right now)\nAnd you stuck right now (Stuck right now)\nOh, you thought you had it all figured out back then\nBut how 'bout now? (Now)\n'Cause I'm up right now (I'm up right now)\nAnd you stuck right now, yeah (Stuck right now)\nYou thought the little effort that you put in was enough, girl\nHow 'bout now? Yeah\nGirl, how 'bout now, how 'bout now, girl?\nWhat about now, girl, how 'bout now?\nYou might also like\nMy heart belongs to you...\n\nYeah, always been daddy's little angel\nI bought your dad a bunch of shit for Christmas\nHe ain't even say thank you\nI had no money left from actin', I was focused on the music\nI used to always try and burn you CDs of my new shit\nYou be like \"who's this?\" I be like \"me, girl\"\nYou be like \"oh, word, true shit?\"\nThen ask if we could listen to Ludacris\nThem car rides made me feel like I was losin' it\nYeah, made me feel I ain't have it like that\nOr I was average like that\nStarted drinkin' way more than I used to\nPeople form habits like that, girl\nYeah, man enough to tell you I was hurt that year\nI'm not even Christian, I still went to church that year\nGuess I just had to pretend that year\nI ain't even see my friends that year\nPlaces that I should've been\n\nYeah, you ain't really fuck with me way back then\nBut how 'bout now? (Now)\n'Cause I'm up right now (I'm up right now)\nAnd you stuck right now (Stuck right now)\nOh, you thought you had it all figured out back then\nGirl, how 'bout now? (Now)\n'Cause I'm up right now (I'm up right now)\nAnd you stuck right now, yeah (Stuck right now)\nYou thought the little effort that you put in was enough, girl\nHow 'bout now? Yeah\nGirl, how 'bout now, how 'bout now, girl?\nWhat about now, girl, how 'bout now?\nMy heart belongs to you\nWhatever you need, there's nothin' I won't do\nWhatever you need, there's nothin' I won't do\nWhatever you need, there's nothin' I won't do\nWhatever you need, there's nothin' I won't do1.4KEmbed"}
{"text":"Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up!\n\nLook, I just flipped a switch (Flipped, flipped)\nI don't know nobody else that's doin' this\nBodies start to drop, ayy (Hit the floor)\nNow they wanna know me since I hit the top, ayy\nThis a Rollie, not a stopwatch, shit don't ever stop\nThis the flow that got the block hot, shit got super hot, ayy\nGive me my respect (Give me my respect)\nI just took it left like I'm ambidex'\nBitch, I move through London with the Eurostep (Two)\nGot a sneaker deal and I ain't break a sweat\nCatch me 'cause I'm gone (Outta there, I\u2019m gone)\nHow I go from 6 to 23 like I'm LeBron?\nServin' up a pack (Servin' up a pack)\nNiggas pullin' gimmicks 'cause they scared to rap, ayy\nFunny how they shook, ayy, got these niggas shook\nPullin' back the curtain by myself, take a look, ayy\nI'm a bar spitta, I\u2019m a hard hitta\nYeah I\u2019m light-skinned, but I'm still a dark nigga\nI'm a wig splitta, I'm a tall figure\nI'm an unforgivin' wild-ass dog nigga\nSomethin' wrong with 'em, got 'em all bitter\nI'm a bill printer, I'm a gravedigger\nYeah, I am what I am\nI don't have no time for no misunderstandings again\nYou might also like\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin'\nThis a Rollie, not a stopwatch, shit don't ever stop\nFrom smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is\u2013\n\nFuture took the business and ran it for me\nI let Ollie take the owl, told him brand it for me\nI get 2 million a pop and that\u2019s standard for me\nLike I went blind, dog, you gotta hand it to me\n(Gotta gimme that shit, dog)\nPrayed, then I prayed again (Amen, Lord)\nHad a moment but it came and went\n(They don't love you no more)\nYou don\u2019t wanna play with him (Nah, nah, nah)\nThey\u2019ll be mournin' you like 8AM (R.I.P.)\nPinky ring 'til I get a wedding ring (Whoa, yeah)\nLove my brothers, cut 'em in on anything (Big slice)\nAnd you know it's King Slime Drizzy, damn (Woo yeah)\nShe just said I'm bae, I hit the thizzle dance (Mac Dre shit)\nEither hand is the upper hand (Oh yeah, shit)\nGot a bubba on my other hand (Whoa, yeah, shit, yeah)\nThis shit ain't no hundred bands (Nah, nah, nah, nah)\nPalace look like Buckingham\nBills so big, I call 'em Williams, for real\nReasons to go crazy, got a trillion, for real\nThey been tryin' me but I'm resilient, for real\nI can\u2019t go in public like civilian, for real\nAnd I hardly take offense\nMoney for revenge, man, that\u2019s hardly an expense\nAl Haymon checks off of all of my events\nI like all the profit, man, I hardly do percents (I don't do that shit)\nA big part of me resents\nNiggas that I knew from when I started in this shit\nThey see what I got and, man, it's hard to be content\nFuck what they got goin' on, I gotta represent (Ayy!)\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin'\nThis a Rollie, not a stopwatch, shit don't ever stop\nFrom smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin', from smokin' the chicken, the bass is kickin'\nMy head is spinnin'\nThis the flow that got the block hot, shit got super hot"}
{"text":"Don't think about it too much, too much, too much, too much\nThere's no need for us to rush it through\nDon't think about it too much, too much, too much, too much\nThis is more than just a new lust for you\n(Oh, don't think about\u2014)\n\nDone sayin' I'm done playin'\nLast time was on the outro\nStuck in the house, need to get out more\nI've been stackin' up like I'm fundraising\nMost people in my position get complacent\nWanna come places with star girls\nAnd they end up on them front pages\nI'm quiet with it, I just ride with it\nMoment I stop having fun with it, I'll be done with it\nI'm the only one that's putting shots up\nAnd like a pot luck, you need to come with it, don't run from it\nLike H-Town in the summertime, I keep it one hundred\nMet a lot of girls in my times there\nWord to Paul Wall, not one fronted\nI was birthed there in my first year\nMan, I know that place like I come from it\nBackstage at Warehouse in '09 like, \"Is Bun coming?\nFuck that, is anyone comin'\n'Fore I show up there and there's no one there?\"\nThese days, I could probably pack it\nFor like twenty nights if I go in there\nBack rub from my main thing, I've been stressed out\nTalkin' to her like back then they didn't want me, I'm blessed now\nTalkin' to her like this drop, bet a million copies get pressed out\nShe tell me, \"Take a deep breath\nYou're too worried about being the best out\"\nYou might also like\nDon't think about it too much, too much, too much, too much\nThere's no need for us to rush it through\nDon't think about it too much, too much, too much, too much\nThis is more than just a new lust for you\n(Oh, don't think about\u2014)\n\nUh, someone go tell Noel to get the Backwoods\nMoney got my whole family going backwards\nNo dinners, no holidays, no nothin'\nThere's issues at hand that we're not discussin'\nI did not sign up for this\nMy uncle used to have all these things on his bucket list\nAnd now he's actin' like, \"Oh, well, this is life, I guess\"\nNah, fuck that shit\nListen, man, you can still do what you wanna do\nYou gotta trust that shit\nHeard once that in dire times when you need a sign\nThat's when they appear\nGuess since my text message didn't resonate, I'll just say it here\nI hate the fact my mom cooped up in her apartment\nTelling herself that she's too sick to get dressed up and go do shit\nLike that's true shit\nAnd all my family from the M-Town that I've been 'round\nStarted treating me like I'm \"him\" now\nLike we don't know each other, we ain't grow together\nWe just friends now\nShit got me feeling pinned down\nPick the pen up or put the pen down?\nI'm writing to you from a distance like a pen-pal\nBut we've been down\nDon't think about it too much, too much, too much, too much\nThere's no need for us to rush it through\nDon't think about it too much, too much, too much, too much\nThis is more than just a new lust for you\nOh, don't think about it too much, too much, too much, too much\nThere's no need for us to rush it through, oh\nDon't think about it too much, too much, too much, too much\nThis is more than just a new lust for you, oh, oh\n(Don't do that\u2014)\n\nDon't give up, on your hopes\nAnd you tell me somethin's gone wrong\nWholehearted, wholehearted, you care, you care\n'Cause I'm such a dreamer, a believer in a sense\nWell, if it's all a dream\nThen I'm on fire, feels like, I'm on fire\nTell me when I'm lyin', tell me when I'm tryin'"}
{"text":"I can see it in your eyes, you're angry\nRegret got shit on what you're feelin' now\nMad 'cause he ain't like me\nOh, you mad 'cause nobody ever did it like me\nAll the care I would take\nAll the love that we made\nNow you're trying to find somebody to replace what I gave to you\nIt's a shame you didn't keep it\nAlisha, Catya, I know that you gon' hear this\nI'm the man, yeah, I said it\nBitch, I'm the man, don't you forget it\nThe way you walk, that's me\nThe way you talk, that's me\nThe way you got your hair up, did you forget that's me?\nAnd the voice in your speaker right now, that's me\nThat's me\nAnd the voice in your ear, that's me\nCan't you see that I made it? Yeah, I made it\nFirst I made you who you are and then I made it\nAnd you're wasted with your latest\nYeah, I'm the reason why you always gettin' faded\n\nTake a shot for me (Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh)\nTake a shot for me (Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh)\nTake a shot for me (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)\nA shot for me (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)\nA shot for me\nYou might also like\nOkay, look, I'm honest, girl, I can't lie, I miss you\nYou and the music were the only things that I'd commit to\nI never cheated, for the record, back when I was with you\nBut you believed in everything but me, girl, I don't get you\nShe says, \"I know you changed\nI never see you 'cause you're always busy doin' things\"\nI really wish she had a different way of viewin' things\nI think the city that we're from just kinda ruined things\nIt's such a small place, not much to do but talk and listen\nThe men are jealous and the women all in competition\nAnd all your friends tellin' you stories that you often misinterpret\nAnd taint all the images of your Mr. Perfect\nI could tell that you been cryin' all night, drinkin' all summer\nPrayin' for your happiness, hope that you recover, uh\nThis is one I know you hated when you heard it\nAnd it's worse because you know that I deserve it\n\nTake a shot for me (Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh)\nTake a shot for me (Oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh)\nTake a shot for me (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)\nA shot for me (Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh, oh-oh)\nA shot for me\nYeah\nMay your neighbors respect you\nTrouble neglect you\nAngels protect you\nAnd Heaven accept you"}
{"text":"Murda on the beat so it's not nice\nYeah\nIt's a Habibis ting, ya?\n\nYeah, my side girl got a 5S with the screen cracked\nStill hit me back right away, better not never hesitate\nDon't come around thinkin' you gettin' saved\nTryna show the dogs brighter days\nGot a torch, tryna light the way\nBitin' everybody, which is ironic\n'Cause your next album probably won't ever see the light of day\nHad fans, but you let 'em down\nBut I guess that's how you niggas gettin' down\nI'm so high up I'm like, \"How is niggas really gettin' down?\"\nI could never have a kid, then be out here still kiddin' round\nBoys playin' around, where you really wanna take it now?\nI got a 150,000 dollars for an afterparty\nAnd I gave it to the killas just to break it down\nBring us up, I never take us down\nBut if you bring me up, then they might take you down\nFake fucked with me back then\nBut it's gettin' hard for you to fake it now\nFuck bein' rich when I'm forty, man, I'm tryna make it now\nYou might also like\nHell nah\nNever let these niggas ride your wave\nNope, no way, nah\nNever let these niggas ride your wave\nNope, no way, nah\nPark the Benz just to ride the Wraith\nSkrrt skrrt\nTen million dollars, gotta hide the safe\n\nSkrrt-skrrt, oh\nMichael Phelps with the swim moves\nSkrrt-skrrt, oh\nMichael Jordan with the tennis shoes\n\nSkrrt skrrt\nQuavo, young nigga, I invented you (Ugh)\nIke Turner with the left hand (Ike)\nGriselda Blanco with the trap moves (Trappin')\nGangland with the right hand (Gang)\nUndertaker with the tattoos (Tats)\nNever listen to the class rules (No)\nSwitch it up, they bit the last move (Let's go!)\nI'm a magnet for bad bitches (Magnet)\nYou got the goin' out sad bitches (Sad)\nI spent a fifty on the chain (Racks)\nYou spent your last fifty (Ugh, cash)\nI got the keys to the streets (Keys)\nYou got the key to defeat (Defeated)\nI got the keys to the warzone (Brrapt)\nYou got the key to the peace (Ugh)\nHell nah\nNever let these niggas ride your wave\nNope, no way, nah\nNever let these niggas ride your wave\nNope, no way, nah\nPark the Benz just to ride the Wraith\nSkrrt-skrrt\nTen million dollars, gotta hide the safe\n\nWe gon' go live, we gon' go live, yep (Yeah, yeah)\nWe gon' go live, we gon' go live, yep (Yeah, yeah)\nGettin' loose (Yeah), yeah\nOff the Henny, 'Roc and a hint of Goose (Yeah), yeah\nOcean deep in my swimmin' pool, yeah (In my pool)\n\nThrowin' Dead Prez in my livin' room, yeah (In my room)\nTakin' shots, feelin' bulletproof\nFlood my Rollie, told my bitch: \"Let's go snorkelin'!\" (Yeah)\nOut in Portland, tryna get in her organs (Yeah)\nNo, I did not sign with Jay but I still send a Tidal wave\nYeah, I might just go get the fade, buy the du-rag and just tie the waves\nYeah, it's lit at the crib, you could stay, me and Drake kick like Kid N' Play (Kid N' Play)\nGod, the way that she servin' that cake, I gotta sit back and digest (Straight up)\nI guess for the fuck shit, I'm biased (Yeah)\nI mix, double the cup when I stress\nGot my mama out the basement (Mama)\nThat's a different type of face lift\nFree Max B up out the bracelets (Yeah, yeah)\nDon't hit us askin' what the wave is\nHell nah\nNever let these niggas ride your wave\nNope, no way, nah\nNever let these niggas ride your wave\nNope, no way, nah\nPark the Benz just to ride the Wraith\nSkrrt skrrt\nTen million dollars, gotta hide the safe\n\nSkrrt-skrrt, oh\nMichael Phelps with the swim moves\nSkrrt-skrrt, oh\nMichael Jordan with the tennis shoes\nSkrrt-skrrt, oh\nMichael Phelps with the swim moves\nSkrrt-skrrt, oh\nMichael Jordan with the tennis shoes"}
{"text":"I know you've been hurt by someone else\nI can tell by the way you carry yourself\nIf you let me, here's what I'll do\nI'll take care of you (I'll take, I'll take)\nI've loved and I've lost\n\nI've asked about you and they told me things\nBut my mind didn't change and I still feel the same\nWhat's a life with no fun? Please don't be so ashamed\nI've had mine, you've had yours, we both know, we know\nThey won't get you like I will, my only wish is I die real\n'Cause that truth hurts and those lies heal\nAnd you can't sleep thinkin' that he lies still\nSo you cry still, tears all in the pillowcase\nBig girls all get a little taste, aw\nPushing me away so I give her space, aw\nDealin' with a heart that I didn't break\nI'll be there for you, I would care for you\nI keep thinking you just don't know\nTryna run from that, say you done with that\nOn your face, girl, it just don't show\nWhen you're ready, just say you're ready\nWhen all the baggage just ain't as heavy\nAnd the party's over, just don't forget me\nWe'll change the pace and we'll just go slow\nYou won't ever have to worry\nYou won't ever have to hide\nAnd you've seen all my mistakes\nSo look me in my eyes\nYou might also like\n'Cause if you let me\nHere's what I'll do\nI'll take care of you (I'll take, I'll take)\nI've loved and I've lost\n(Yeah)\n\nIt's my birthday, I'll get high if I want to\nCan't deny that I want you, but I'll lie if I have to\n'Cause you don't say you love me\nTo your friends when they ask you\nEven though we both know that you do, you do\nOne time, been in love one time\nYou and all your girls in the club one time\nAll so convinced that you're followin' your heart\n'Cause your mind don't control what it does sometimes\nWe all have our nights, though, don't be so ashamed\nI've had mine, you've had yours, we both know, we know\nYou hate bein' alone, well, you ain't the only one\nYou hate the fact that you bought the dream and they sold you one\nYou love your friends, but somebody should've told you somethin'\nTo save you, instead, they say\n\nDon't, tell me, I don't care if you hurt\nI don't, tell you, you don't care if you're true\nDon't, tell me, I don't care if you hurt\nI don't, tell you, you don't care if you're true\nI know you've been hurt by someone else\nI can tell by the way you carry yourself\nIf you let me, here's what I'll do\nI'll take care of you (I'll take, I'll take)\nI've loved and I've lost"}
{"text":"\nYeah\n\nWhen I pull up on a nigga tell that nigga back, back\nI'm too good with these words, watch a nigga backtrack\nIf I die, all I know is I'm a mothafuckin' legend\nIt's too late for my city, I'm the youngest nigga reppin'\nOh my God, oh my God, if I die, I'm a legend\nOh my God, oh my God, if I die, I'm a legend\n\nI'm up first, I'm on tour, got a girl, she from the South\nUsed to work, used to dance in Texas, now she clean the house\nEveryday, I was strugglin' to learn what life's about\nOn my way, money taught me Spanish, make it \u00e1ndale\nWay up north, packed in Honda cars\nThey don't know who we are\nFuck 'em all, they only pussy niggas shootin' at the star\nRight or wrong, I'ma write my wrongs\nThey can't live this long\nYou don't know where you're gonna go\nI got this shit mapped out strong\nYou might also like\nWhen I pull up on a nigga tell that nigga back, back\nI'm too good with these words, watch a nigga backtrack\nAll I know, if I die, I'm a mothafuckin' legend\nIt's too late for my city, I'm the youngest nigga reppin'\nOh my God, oh my God, if I die, I'm a legend\nOh my God, oh my God, if I die, I'm a legend\n\nI'm the one, one\nWhy do I feel like the only one?\nWhy do I feel like you owe me one?\n6 G-O-D, I'm the holy one\nYeah, you know wassup, yeah\nThey been off for a minute now\nYou know they all sentimental now\nYou know they all actin' different now\nAnd I, I just can't pretend\nSeen too much, it's so hard for me to let new people in\nI can't change, this shit set in stone\nThey can't live this long\nYou don't know where you're gonna go\nI got this shit mapped out strong\nWhen I pull up on a nigga tell that nigga back, back\nI'm too good with these words, watch a nigga backtrack\nAll I know, if I die, I'm a mothafuckin' legend\nIt's too late for my city, I'm the youngest nigga reppin'\nOh my God, oh my God, if I die, I'm a legend\nOh my God, oh my God, if I die, I'm a legend\n\nI'm the one"}
{"text":"I might be too strung out on compliments\nOverdosed on confidence\nStarted not to give a fuck and stopped fearin' the consequence\nDrinkin' every night because we drink to my accomplishments\nFaded way too long, I'm floatin' in and out of consciousness\nAnd they sayin' I'm back, I'd agree with that\nI just take my time with all this shit, I still believe in that\nI had someone tell me I fell off, ooh, I needed that\nAnd they want to see me pick back up, well, where'd I leave it at?\nI know I exaggerated things, now I got it like that\nTuck my napkin in my shirt 'cause I'm just mobbin' like that\nYou know good and well that you don't want a problem like that\nYou gon' make someone around me catch a body like that\nNo, don't do it (Ayy), please don't do it (Ayy)\n'Cause one of us goes in and we all go through it (Ayy)\nAnd Drizzy got the money, so Drizzy gon' pay it\nThose my brothers, I ain't even gotta say it\nThat's just something they know\n\nThey know, they know, they know\nThey know, they know, they know\nThey know, they know, they know\nYeah, they know, yeah\nThat the real is on the rise\nFuck them other guys\nI even gave 'em a chance to decide\nNow it's something they know\nThey know, they know, they know (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nI be yellin' out, \"Money over everything,\" money on my mind\nThen she wanna ask when it got so empty\nTell her I apologize, happened over time\nShe says, \"They miss the old Drake,\" girl, don't tempt me\n\"If they don't get it, they'll be over you\nThat new shit that you got is overdue\nYou better do what you supposed to do\"\nI'm like, \"Why I gotta be all that?\"\nBut still, I can't deny the fact that it's true\nListening to you expressin' all them feelings\nSoap-opera rappers, all these niggas sound like all my children\nAnd that's who you thinkin' is 'bout to come and make a killin'?\nI guess it really is just me, myself, and all my millions\nYou know that they ain't even got it like that\nYou gon' hype me up and make me catch a body like that\n'Cause I live for this, it isn't just a hobby like that\nWhen they get my shit and play it, I ain't even gotta say it, they know\n\nThey know, they know, they know\nThey know, they know, they know\nThey know, they know, they know\nYeah, they know, yeah\nThat the real is on the rise\nFuck them other guys\nI even gave 'em a chance to decide\nNow it's something they know\nThey know, they know, they know\nI be yellin' out, \"Money over everything,\" money on my mind\nMind, mind-mind\nTell 'em I apologize, it happened over time\nTime, time-time\nThey know\nThey know, they know, they know\nThey know, they know, they know\nThey know, they know, they know (Yeah)"}
{"text":"Right, my yiy just changed\nYou just buzzed the front gate\nI thank God you came\nHow many more days could I wait?\nI made plans with you\nAnd I won't let 'em fall through\nI, I, I, I, I\n\nI think I'd lie for you\nI think I'd die for you\nJodeci \"Cry for You\"\nDo things when you want me to\nLike controlla, controlla, yeah\nLike controlla, controlla, yeah\n\nOkay, you like it, when I get\nAggressive, tell you to, yeah\nGo slower, go faster\nLike controlla, controlla, yeah\nLike controlla, controlla, yeah\n\nAnd I\u2019m never on a waste ting, shawty\nI do it how you say you want it\nThem girls, they just wanna take my money\nThey don't want me to give you nothing\nThey don't want you to have nothing\nThey don't wanna see me find your lovin'\nThey don't wanna see me\nSmiling back when they pree\nYou might also like\nKnowing I'd lie for you\nThinking I'd die for you\nJodeci \"Cry for You\"\nDo things when you want me to\nLike controlla, controlla, yeah\nLike controlla, controlla, yeah\nGyal a tear off mi garments\nAnd a bawl fi come inna mi apartment (Woi!)\nDi gyal dem want di length and strength\nAction speak louder than argument well\n\nBut you can't just diss and come tell man sorry\nYou can't listen to me talk and go tell my story, nah\nIt don't work like that when you love somebody\nMy old flex is my new flex now and we're workin' on it, yeah\nAnd that's why I need\nAll the energy that you bring to me\nMy last girl would tear me apart\nBut she'd never wanna split a ting with me\nBut when it comes to you, you\nI think I'd lie for you\nI think I'd die for you\nDo things when you want me to\nLike controlla, controlla, yeah\nLike controlla, controlla, yeah\nAnd I\u2019m never on a waste ting shawty\nI do it how you say you want it\nThem girls, they just wanna take my money\nThey don't want me to give you nothing\nThey don't want you to have nothing\nThey don't wanna see me find your lovin'\nThey don't wanna see me\nSmiling back when they pree\nJheeze!\n(Woop, woop, woop, woop)\n(Woop, woop, woop, woop)\n(Woop, woop, woop, woop)\n(Woop, woop, woop, woop)\n(Woop, woop, woop, woop)\n(Woop, woop, woop, woop)\nMusic a drop!\nGyal a whine up dem bumpa\nDis is di summa summa controlla\nDrake from Canada, Beenie Man from Jamaica\nDah one yah a murda\u2014Zagga!"}
{"text":"Yeah\nI'm working on dying\n\nI'm upset\nFifty thousand on my head, it's disrespect\nSo offended that I had to double check\nI'ma always take the money over sex\nThat's why they need me out the way, what you expect?\n\nGot a lot of blood and it's cold\nThey keep tryna get me for my soul\nThankful for the women that I know\nCan't go fifty-fifty with no ho\nEvery month\nI'm supposed to pay her bills and get her what she want\nI still got like seven years of doin' what I want\nMy dad still got child support from 1991 (One, one, one)\nOutta town, people love to pop a lot of shit then come around\nWord to Flacko Jodye, he done seen us put it down\nNiggas askin' if I'm cool\n\nI'm upset ('Set, 'set)\nHunnid thousand on my head, it's disrespect (Disrespect)\nSo offended that I had to double check\nYou might also like\nYou tryna check?\nThis is real life, niggas think we playin' chess\nSo what's next?\nJump up out the bed like I'm possessed\nI go out on tour and I say I'm drinkin' less\nEnd up gettin' loose and gettin' pictures from my ex (Ex, ex, ex, ex)\nSMS, triple X\nThat's the only time I ever shoot below the neck (Skrr)\nWhy you keep on shootin' if you know that nigga dead? (Skrr)\nThat's the only kind of shit that gets you some respect\n\nGot a lot of blood and it's cold\nThey keep tryna get me for my soul (For my soul)\nThankful for the women that I know\nCan't go fifty-fifty with no ho (Ayy, ayy)\nEvery month\nShe don't even love me, she just puttin' on a front (Front)\nShe gon' try and settle outta court and make a run\nThen gon' ask me how I'm doin'?\n\nI'm upset ('Set, 'set)\nHalf a million on my head I can accept, yeah\n'Least it makes me feel like someone tried their best, yeah\nWant to waste a half a million, be my guest\nMade me wanna buy a vest and a TEC (Skrr)\nBut I'm blessed, I just checked (Checked, checked)\nHate me, never met me in the flesh (Flesh)\nSaid she's got some things she gotta come here and collect\nThat shit is in a box to the left, to the left (Left, left, left)\nGot a lot of blood and it's cold\nThey keep tryna get me for my soul (For my soul)\nThankful for the women that I know (That I know)\nCan't go fifty-fifty with no ho"}
{"text":"(Yah! Yah! Yah! Yah! Yah! Ah)\nHerm\u00e8s link, ice-blue mink (Woo!)\nTat on my ribs like I do not know what permanent is (Yah!)\nThey want me gone, wait for the kicker\nBury me now and I only get bigger\nThat's word to my nigga (Woo!)\n\nYeah, October Firm in the cut (Yah!)\nStay at the top like I'm stuck, that's just how I'm givin' it up\nShe wanna get married tonight\nBut I can't take a knee, 'cause I'm wearin' all white\nMe and my broski are twins, but we don't look alike\nI don't take naps\nMe and the money are way too attached to go and do that\nMuscle relax (Ha! Ha! Ha!)\nThat and the spliff put me right on my back, I gotta unpack (Yah!)\nVirginia Black (Doo! Doo!)\nI could go make enough money off that and not even rap\nWhat's that? Facts (Facts, nigga, yah!)\nContract max, I gotta bring that shit back (Blah!)\n\nHerm\u00e8s link (Woo! Woo!), ice-blue mink (Yah!)\nTat on my ribs like I do not know what permanent is\nThey want me gone, out of the picture (Yah!)\nBury me now and I only get bigger\nThat's word to my, word to my\u2014\nYou might also like\nI'm so hot, yeah, I\u2019m so right now (Right now)\nWho's not gang, bitch? Let me find out (Ha!)\nKeep hearin' clicks when I'm talkin' on the iPhone\nFeds in the city hate to see us on a high note (Woo!)\nI switch flow like I switch time zone\nCan't get Nobu, but you can get Milestone (Baka)\nI got a new mansion, 'cause I outgrew the condo\nGotta do Maybach, she wanna fuck on the drive home\nYeah, met her once and I got through (Yah!)\nI'm never washed, but I'm not new\nI know I said top five, but I'm top two\nAnd I'm not two and I got one\nThought you had one, but it's not one, nigga, nah\n\nHerm\u00e8s link, ice-blue mink (Yah!)\nTat on my ribs like I do not know what permanent is\nThey want me gone (Gone, blah!), wait for the kicker\nBury me now and I only get bigger\nThat's word to my nigga (Woo! Woo!)\nYah!"}
{"text":"What these bitches want from a nigga?\n\nOn some DMX shit\nI group DM my exes\nI tell 'em they belong to me, that goes on for forever\nAnd I think we just get closer when we not together\nYou tell me that I'm confusin'\nMore immature than Marques Houston\nCuts too deep for a band-aid solution\nWe too deep in this thing, you'll never lose me\nLOLOL, I'm glad you find this shit amusin'\nHeard a lot about me 'fore we started off\nI know you heard that my pool parties like Mardi Gras\nI know you heard that my girl is sponsored by Audemars\nThat's why she always correctin' me when my time is off\nAnd my house is the definition\nOf alcohol and weed addiction\nYou got a different vision\nYou wanna walk around naked in the kitchen\nWithout runnin' into one of my niggas\nThat's not the way we livin'\nToo much goin' on, it's just not realistic\nThese days I don't talk 'bout them days like I miss 'em\nAnd you shouldn't miss 'em either, we different people\nBut every time we speakin'\nYou might also like\nIt's like a lot of games bein' played\nHow's it goin' down?\nIf it's on 'til we gone, then I gots to know now\nIs you wit' me or what?\nYeah\nIt's like a lot of games are bein' played\nHow's it goin' down?\nIf it's on 'til we gone, then I gots to know now\nIs you wit' me or what?\nYeah\n\nI wanna know how much time you spent on them paragraphs\nWhere you get at me\nAll that grey in our conversation history, you\nPlayin' mind games, when you sayin' things\nPlayin' mime games, we both doin' the same thing\nSlide on a late night\nYou like to slide on a late night\nYou sent a \"Are you here?\" text without an invite\nThat's that shit that I don't like\nWe both slide on a late night\nDo things in our off time\nWe both, yeah\nMade some mistakes, pon road\nYeah, how's that for real?\nYou toyin' with it like Happy Meal\n3 dots, you thinkin' of a reaction still\nWhile you're typin', make sure you tell me\nWhat type of games are bein' played?\nHow's it goin' down?\nIf it's on 'til we gone, then I gots to know now\nIs you wit' me or what?\nYeah\nWhat type of games are bein' played?\nHow's it goin' down?\nIf it's on 'til we gone, then I gots to know now\nIs you wit' me or what?\nYeah\nYeah, remember you was livin' at The London for a month\nService elevator up to 4201\nWe was still a secret, couldn't come in through the front\nGirl, I had your back when all you used to do was front\nThat's for sure though, I made a career off reminiscin'\nTime got a funny way of tickin', things are so much different\nI'll admit it, I've admitted to a lot of things\nAct like you know it, fuck them stories, fuck the shade they throwin'\nUnderstand I got responsibilities to people that I need\nAnd on my way to make this dough\nA lot of niggas cut the check so they can take this flow\nA lot of niggas cut the check so they can take this flow\nOhhh, ohhh\nTryna give your ass the world\nYou runnin' your fingers through my curls\nYou knew me when the kid had waves\nBut that's enough of that\nYou could never say I came up and forgot about your ass\nAnd that's some real shit"}
{"text":"Silence keeps cloudin' me\nHand on my heart\nAnd I, I wish time never mattered\nYeah, stylin\u2019 though\nDissin' but got pictures with me smilin' though\nAll the things you need, you still want problems though\nAll the things I know, I still been silent though\nYeah, used to be at SilverCity, Indigo\nUsed to be in lunchroom, playin\u2019 dominoes\nI don't want to have to go to funerals\nI gotta start sleepin' at the studio\nI don't have no time to be no Romeo\nAll the love I need is at the rodeo\nAll the love I need is here at OVO, yeah\nAll the girls I know are there with E and Tho\nWho knows where I end up when that shit gets old?\nMaybe it never gets old and that's just how it goes\nLast table left in Carbone, callin' plays on the rotary phone\nI take a glass of Domina to go with me home\nMight move our annual shit to the 'Dome\nI need forty-thousand people to see what I'm on\nYeah, ducked a lot of spiteful moves\nI was an angry yute while I was writin\u2019 Views\nSaw a side of myself that I just never knew\nI\u2019ll probably self-destruct if I ever lose, but I never do\nSteady doin' double shifts\n1da doin\u2019 the beat and I open up like a double click\nMore blessings because I'm generous\nThirty-seater plane for like ten of us\nRemember when I bought Sealey the fake Chanel wallet\nShe knew that shit was a fraud but never told me about it\nNowadays when we catchin' up we just laugh about it\nCan't describe what my life is like when she asks about it\nScary whenever I close my eyes at night\nWakin\u2019 up to public statements about my private life\nI can never sleep 'til mornin' on all my quiet nights\nBut you can rest assured that my mind is right\nGet no sick days, I leave for like three months in six days\nNever stick around to see shit change\nGet lil' updates, texts in my inboxes have been poppin'\nSeasons go by like I'm binge-watchin'\nWent from Club Palazzo in the Bridge to Club LIV\nTo not even showin' up at a club 'less we doin' biz'\nI can't even party while a nigga pursuin' this\nDistractions will do you in, in the truest sense\nEspecially people that want to lecture me\nAnd frame it like they just want the best for me\nOr they check for me, whatever splits it up\nSo there's more for them and there's less for me\nThey don't know they got to be faster than me to get to me\nNo one's done it successfully\n7AM in Germany, can't believe that they heard of me\nLast verse that I gotta do is always like surgery\nAlways tryin' to let go of anything that'll burden me\nThat's the reason you can feel the tension and the urgency\nLast chance I get to make sure that you take it personally\nTake this shit to heart, it's always executed perfectly\nIf we do a song it's like takin' my kids to work with me\nYou overnight celebrity, you one day star\nSwear I told you that I'm in this bitch for eternity\nI am a reflection of all of your insecurities\nBehind closed doors, a lot of 6 God worshipping\nDone talk now, 'cause there's other shit that's concernin' me\nThere's real ones around me\nI want to make sure they learn from me\nI want to see my dawg, but his grandmother's his surety\nHe can't even dip out to see me in an emergency\nMy life is centered 'round competition and currency\nTakin' summer off, 'cause they tell me I need recovery\nMaybe gettin' back to my regular life will humble me\nI'll be back 2018 to give you the summary\nMore LifeYou might also like"}
{"text":"Yeah\nYeah\nMan\n\nIt's like '09 in your basement and I'm in love with Nebby\nAnd I still love her, but it fell through because I wasn't ready\nAnd your back hurt, and your neck hurt and you smokin' heavy\nAnd I sit next to you, and I lecture you because those are deadly\nAnd then you ash it, and we argue about spendin' money on bullshit\nAnd you tell me I'm just like my father, my one button, you push it\nNow it's fuck you, I hate you, I'll move out in a heartbeat\nAnd I leave out and you call me and you tell me that you sorry\nAnd you love me and I love you and your heart hurts, mine does too\nAnd it's just words and they cut deep, but it's our world, it's just us two\nI see painkillers on the kitchen counter, I hate to see it all hurt so bad\nBut maybe I wouldn't have worked this hard if you were healthy and it weren't so bad, uh\nMaybe I should walk up the street\nAnd try and get a job at the bank\n'Cause leave it up to me, J, and Neeks\nWe'll probably end up robbin' a bank\nThen Wayne calls up my phone\nConversation wasn't that long\nGets me a flight to Houston in the morning\nOh, it's my time, yeah, it's on\nHe's thinkin' of signin' me, I come home\nWe make a mixtape with seventeen songs\nAnd almost get a Grammy off of that thing\nThey love your son, man, that boy gone\nYou get the operation you dreamed of\nAnd I finally send you to Rome\nAnd get to make good on my promise\nIt all worked out, girl, we should've known\n'Cause you deserve it\nYou might also like\nIs this shit real? Should I pinch you?\nAfter all the things that we been through, I got you, yeah\nLook what you've done, look what you've done\nLook what you've done for me now, yeah\nYou knew that I was gon' be somethin'\nWhen you're stressed out and you need somethin', I got you, yeah\nLook what you've done, look what you've done\nLook what you've, look what you've\nIt's like '06 in your backyard, I'm in love with Jade\nAnd I'm still in love 'cause when it's that real is when it doesn't fade\nAnd my father living in Memphis now, he can't come this way\nOver some minor charges and child support that just wasn't paid, damn\nBoohoo, sad story, Black American dad story\nKnow that I'm your sister's kid, but it still don't explain the love that you have for me\nI remember sneaking in your pool after school dances\nDamn, your house felt like the Hamptons\nFor all of my summer romances\nI never really had no one like you, man, this all new shit\nMade the world I know bigger\nChanged the way that I viewed it\nHad all this fightin' going on at the crib\nYou would calm me down when I lose it\nTold you I think I'm done acting\nNow I'm more in touch with the music\nYou said, either way, I'd be a star, I could go so far\nTalked to me, then you got to me\nThen you'd toss the keys and loan me your car, yeah\nJust a young kid in a drop-top Lexus hopin' that I don't get arrested\nJust another kid that's going through life so worried that I won't be accepted\nBut I could do anything\nYou said that, and you meant that\nYou took me places, you spent that\nThey said no, we went back\nChecks bounced, but we bounced back\nI put all the money in your accounts back\nAnd I thank you, I don't know where I'd really be without that\nIt worked out, man, you deserve it\nIs this shit real? Should I pinch you?\nAfter all the things that we been through, I got you, yeah\nLook what you've done, look what you've done\nLook what you've done for me now, yeah\nYou knew that I was gon' be somethin'\nWhen you're stressed out and you need somethin', I got you, yeah\nLook what you've done, look what you've done\nLook what you've, look what you've\nHi Aubrey\nI'm here sitting with my son having a little talk\nAnd he knew, knows how to get in touch with you now\nTo let you know how grateful I am for your help in keeping me in this\nIn this comfortable place\nAll I can say, Aubrey, is I remember the good times we had together\nAnd the times I used to look after you\nAnd I still have wonderful feeling about that\nSo God bless you\nAnd I hope I'll see you"}
{"text":"Your heart is hard to carry after dark\nYou're to blame for what we could have been\n'Cause look at what we are\nYour friends are scared to tell you, you went too far\nFunny that it's always been all about you from the start\nI met someone new last night and we kicked it\nAnd I'm going back there tonight\nAnd you know what's on my mind, this time\nGoing back there tonight\nAnd you know what's on my mind so\nIf you had my love\nAnd I gave you all my trust\nWould you comfort me?\nAnd if somehow you knew\nThat your love would be untrue\nWould you lie to me?\nIf you had my love\nAnd I gave you all my trust\nWould you comfort me?\nAnd if somehow you knew\nThat your love would be untrue\nWould you lie to me?\nYou might also like\nOut of body\nThat's just how I feel when I'm around you, shawty\nLast night we didn't say it\nBut girl, we both thought it\nWhy second guess? I should have stayed\nYou say the word, I'm on the way\nThis shit feels like teenage fever\nI'm not scared of it, she ain't either\nWhy second guess? I should have stayed\n'Cause you know what's on my mind so\nIf you had my love\nAnd I gave you all my trust\nWould you comfort me?\nAnd if somehow you knew\nThat your love would be untrue\nWould you lie to me?\nIf you had my love\nAnd I gave you all my trust\nWould you comfort me?\nAnd if somehow you knew\nThat your love would be untrue\nWould you lie to me?\nYeah, slightly, hah, took a left turn there\nBut very much six AM\nSlightly been awake for twenty-four hours, so please forgive me\nMore ideas and stuff comin'\nYeah, yeah, fam\nI'm wafflin', but man is tired, fam, Jesus Christ"}
{"text":"Dedicate, I dedicate the world\nYeah, oh\nI dedicate, I dedicate\nI give you my fortune\nI dedicate, I dedicate\nI dedicate, I dedicate\nI dedicate, I dedicate\nI dedicate, dedicate, dedicate\nI dedicate to you\nI dedicate, I dedicate\nI dedicate, I dedicate, oh yeah\nI dedicate, I dedicate to you\n\nThey throwin' dirt on my old name\nOnly gets worse when you know things\nYou don't see the perks of this whole thing\nBut you get real on a pill and I like it\nYou just like my sidekick, I just wanna ride, fulfill all your desires\nKeep you in the front, never in the back and never on the side, uh\n(Yeah)\n\nYou a real ass woman and I like it\nI don't wanna fight it\nYou might also like\nLook, you know I'm a rider, nothin' left to hide\nYour other nigga tired\nTalk about you like you never leave his side\nBut I don't really buy it\nMe? I'm movin' quiet, all the things we're tryin'\nLet's just keep it private (Don't say anything)\nTell me should I cut these other girls right out of my life?\n'Cause we never decided, tell me how you feel inside\n\nYou a real ass woman and I like it, yeah\nDedicate to you\nI need you inspired, I need you excited\nI don't wanna fight it\n\nYeah-yeah, I figure out you, you figure out me\nWe both a different breed\nI'm followin' your lead, I ask you what you need\nYou say, \"A guarantee\"\nI mean, you say that like it's easy\nYou never believe me\nTold you I got Zs for these other girls sleepin' on 'em\nGirl, I'm sleepy\nSometimes I'm so indecisive\nBut you a real ass woman and I like it\nI don't wanna fight it\n\nI give you my fortune\nI dedicate, I dedicate\nI dedicate, I dedicate\nI dedicate, dedicate, dedicate\nI dedicate to you\nI dedicate, I dedicate\nThis song's for you\nI dedicate, I dedicate\nI give you my voice\nThis song's for you"}
{"text":"Ooh, ooh\nWoah, yeah\nOoh (Yeah)\n\nTake your nose off my keyboard\nWhat you bothering me for?\nThere's a room full of niggas\nWhat you following me for?\nThis ain't no fuckin' sing-along\nSo, girl, what you singin' for?\nIt's 'cause we blowing like a C4\nGot my whole crew blowin' like a C4\nTwenty, keep the bar rollin'\nFake IDs in the trash, we goin'\nStraight to the top, rooftop glows\nWith a handful of girls and they all so foreign\nBrain so poisoned, rainbows flowin'\nLight-skinned chick, first flight from Poland\nA whole lotta friends, first flight from Poland\nA whole lotta cash comin' straight from Poland\n\nWhy? 'Cause they loving the crew\nThey loving the crew\nThey loving the crew\nOh, they loving the crew\nOh, they loving the crew\nThey loving the crew\nThey loving the crew\nThey loving the crew, woah\nYou might also like\nYeah\nSmokin' weed under star projectors\nI guess we'll never know where Harvard gets us\nBut seein' my family have it all\nTook the place of that desire for diplomas on the wall\nAnd really, I think I like who I'm becoming\nThere's times where I might do it just to do it like it's nothing\nThere's times where I might blow like 50K on a vacation\nFor all my soldiers, just to see the looks on all they faces\nAll it took was patience\nI got a lotta friends to come up off the strip for me\nThe same ones that'll come up off the hip for me\nThe realest niggas say, \"Your lyrics do shit for me\"\nI told my story and made history\nTell them I'ma need reservations for twenty\nI've never really been one for the preservation of money, nah\nI'd much rather spend it all while I'm breathin'\nThat OVO and that XO is everything you believe in, I know\n\nThey loving the crew\nOh, they loving the crew\nOh, they loving the crew\nLoving the crew, oh\nOh, they loving the crew\nThey loving the crew\nThey loving the crew\nThey loving the crew\nWoah\n'Cause we blowin' like a C4\nGot my whole crew blowin' like a C4\n(If you broadcast swag, nigga, we the news in your city)"}
{"text":"When a good thing goes bad, it's not the end of the world\nIt's just the end of a world that you had with one girl\nAnd she's the reason it happened, but she's overreacting\nAnd it's all because she don't want things to change\n\nSo cry if you need to, but I can't stay to watch you\nThat's the wrong thing to do\nTouch if you need to, but I can't stay to hold you\nThat's the wrong thing to do\nTalk if you need to, but I can't stay to hear you\nThat's the wrong thing to do\n'Cause you'll say you love me, and I'll end up lying\nAnd say, \"I love you too\"\n\nBut I need someone different\nYou know it, oh, you know it\nOh, you know it, we both know it\nI need someone different\nYou know it, oh, you know it\nOh, you know it, we both know it\nSomething's been missing\nYou know it, oh, she knows it\nOh, I know it, we all know it\nI need someone different\nOh, oh\nYou might also like\nWe live in a generation of not being in love and not being together\nBut we sure make it feel like we're together\n'Cause we're scared to see each other with somebody else\n\nSo cry if you need to, but I can't stay to watch you\nThat's the wrong thing to do\nTouch if you need to, but I can't stay to hold you\nThat's the wrong thing to do\nTalk if you need to, but I can't stay to hear you\nThat's the wrong thing to do\n'Cause you'll say you love me, and I'll end up lying\nAnd say, \"I love you too\"\n\nBut I need someone different\nYou know it, oh, you know it\nOh, you know it, we both know it\nI need someone different\nYou know it, oh, you know it\nOh, you know it, we both know it\nSomething's been missing\nYou know it, oh, she knows it\nOh, I know it, we all know it\nI need someone different\nOh, oh"}
{"text":"Own it\nIt's yours\nIt's yours\n\nYours\nYou're still the one that I adore\nAin't much out there to have feelings for\nGuess whose it is? Guess whose it is? (Yours)\nGuess whose it is? Guess whose it is? Yours\nA few bottles on the table, a few waters\nIt ain't a secret, baby, everybody saw us\nGuess whose it is? Guess whose it is?\nGuess whose it is? It's yours\nNext time we fuck, I don't wanna fuck, I wanna make love\nNext time we talk, I don't wanna just talk, I wanna trust\nNext time I stand tall, I wanna be standin' for you\nAnd next time I spend, I want it all to be for you, oh\nPeakin', I'm peakin'\nWake up with me this weekend, we can, oh\nGuess whose it is? Guess whose it is?\nGuess whose it is? It's yours\n\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nOwn it, own it, own it, I said\nGo own that shit, own that shit\nOwn that shit, own that shit\nGo and own that shit, own that shit\nOwn that shit, you own that shit, go and\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nGo own that shit, own that shit\nOwn that shit\nOwn that shit, own that shit\nOwn that shit\nYou might also like\nNiggas talk more than bitches these days\nJust let that shit sink in, ha!\nNiggas talk more than bitches these days\nWho could get the pussy quicker these days\nStill straight with the weed and the liquor these days\n'Cause the new drugs got the kids trippin' these days (Trippin')\nBunch of journalists been searchin' for a story\nMy ex-girl been searchin' for a \"sorry\" (How you do?)\nCouple bitches tryna have me on the Maury\nLike nigga, it's yours, you should be supportin'\nBut where you been at? On tour, gettin' money\nY'all don't even really check for me\nYou ain't even hit me when that nigga had threats for me, girl\nYou don't love me, you just say that shit to get to me, girl\n'Cause you got the Batphone and my work line\nYou should call\nWhen the last time you did somethin' for the first time?\nYou done done it all\nI swear to God, niggas talk more than bitches these days\nGot you thinkin' that I'm different these days\nBroken telephone for every single conversation\nBy the time it gets to you, shit switches these days, but oh (Yeah)\nIt's yours, it's yours, it's yours, it's\nIt's always gonna be yours\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\n(It's always gonna be yours)\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nOwn it, own it, own it, I said\n(It's always gonna be yours)\nGo own that shit\nOwn it\nOwn it\nIt's yours, it's yours\nOwn it, own it, own it, own it\nOwn it, baby, own it, it's yours\nOwn that shit, own that shit, own that shit"}
{"text":"(Machine gun rap for all my niggas in the back) Uh\n(Machine gun rap for all my niggas in the back) Uh\n(Machine gun rap for all my niggas in the back) Uh\n(Machine gun rap for all my niggas in the back) I\n\nI just love when I'm with you\nYeah, this shit is on ten\nWe used to be friends, girl, and even back then\nYou would look at me with no hesitation and you'd tell me\nBaby, it's yours, nobody else's\nYeah, this shit belong to nobody\nIt's yours, nobody else's\nYeah, this shit belong to nobody and that\nWhat made me think about the game, girl\nAnd how I switched it up with a new thing\nYoung nigga came through on his Wu-Tang\nAnd nowadays when I ask about who got it\nThey say it's yours, nobody else's\nYeah, this shit belong to nobody\nIt's yours, nobody else's\nYeah, this shit belong to nobody\nIt's yours, it's yours, it's yours, it's yours\nThat's for sure, that's for sure (Yeah)\nIt's yours, it's yours, it's yours, it's yours\nThat's for sure, that's for sure\nYou might also like\nHow you feel about\nComin' home with a nigga for the night?\nIf you nervous, hit the lights\nI know we only fuckin' out of spite 'cause your man don't\nDo you right, do you right\nI could fuck you so good, then I hit you with the 9 a.m. in Dallas\nWho you like, baby, who you like?\n\nMachine gun raps for all my niggas in the back\nStadium packed, just glad to see the city on the map\nI just gave the city life, it ain't about who did it first\nIt's 'bout who did it right, niggas looking like \"Preach\"\nOpen cases on me for a half a million each\nI find peace knowing that it's harder in the streets, I know\nLuckily I didn't have to grow there\nI would only go there 'cause niggas that I know there\nI don't know what's getting into me, I just like the rush\nWhen you see your enemy somewhere in the club and you realize\nHe just not in a position to reciprocate your energy\nYou ain't ever worried 'cause he's not who he pretends to be\nPeople like Mazin who was a best friend to me\nStart to become a distant memory\nThings change in that life, and this life started lacking synergy\nAnd fuckin' with me mentally, I think it's meant to be\nYeah, paranoid, always rolling with my mothafuckin' boys\nBut you gotta understand when it's yours\nThey don't really leave your ass with a mothafuckin' choice, man\nI, I just love when I'm with you\nYeah, this shit is on ten\nWe used to be friends, girl, and even back then\nYou would look at me with no hesitation and you'd tell me, baby\nIt's yours, nobody else's\nYeah, this shit belong to nobody\nIt's yours, nobody else's\nYeah, this shit belong to nobody and that\nWhat made me think about the game, girl\nAnd how I switched it up with a new thing\nYoung nigga came through on his Wu-Tang\nAnd nowadays when I ask about who got it\nThey say it's yours, nobody else's\nYeah, this shit belong to nobody\nIt's yours, nobody else's\nYeah, this shit belong to nobody\nIt's yours, it's yours, it's yours, it's yours\nThat's for sure, that's for sure (Yeah)\nIt's yours, it's yours, it's yours, it's yours\nThat's for sure, that's for sure\n\nHow you feel about?\n(It's yours, it's yours)"}
{"text":"It's not me and you, it's not me it's you\nYou're reckless and you know it, they don't love you like I do\nSay you're moving on, well, I guess that's just the motion\nI guess that's just the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\n\nI don't have a fuck to give, I've been moving state to state\nIn my leather and my Timbs like it's 1998\nAnd my dog Chubby Chub, that's my nigga from the way\nOn the Eastside of the city, that's where everybody stay\nSeem like everybody calling 'cause they want me on their song\nIt's like every time I touch it I could never do no wrong\nWhen they need a favor from you, man, they don't leave you alone\nBut I guess that's just the motion, yeah\n\nThen that phone doesn't ring\nWhen they got everything, that's the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\n(Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\n(Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh)\nYou might also like\nYeah, looking back on it, at least my pride is intact\n'Cause we said \"no strings attached\" and I still got tied up in that\nEverything that I write is either for her or about her\nSo I'm with her even when I'm here without her and she know it\nThe girl that I wanna save is like a danger to my health\nTry being with somebody that wanna be somebody else\nI always thought she was perfect when she was being herself\nDon't even know how to help, but I guess that's just the motion, yeah\n\nShe'll probably come around\nSoon as I settle down, that's the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\nNothing less and nothing more\nI hear your heart hit the floor\nI guess that's just the motion\nTalking to you is not enough, no\nI guess that\u2019s just the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\nI guess that's just the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\nOh-oh, I guess that's just the motion\nYeah"}
{"text":"Is it the strength of your feelings\nOverthrowing your pain?\nYou'll see new heights you\u2019ll be reaching\nAnd is it today that you will find your new release?\nAnd in your wake, ripple your sweet fate\nAnd more chune for your headtop\nSo watch how you speak on my name, you know?\n\nYeah, I couldn't get a bill paid\nYou couldn't buy the real thing\nI was stayin\u2019 up at yo' place\nTryin' to figure out the whole thing\nI saw people doin' things\nAlmost gave up on the music thing\nBut we all so spoiled now\nMore life, more everything\nMust have never had your phone tapped\nAll that yappin' on the phone shit\nYou must really love the road life\nAll that never comin' home shit\n\nFree smoke, free smoke, ayy\nFree smoke, free smoke, ayy\nFree smoke, free smoke, ayy\nYou might also like\nDom Ros\u00e9 toast\nHidden Hills where I post\nI start my day slow\nSilk pajamas when I wake though\nMiraval to the face though\nI drunk text J-Lo\nOld number, so it bounce back\nBoi-1da got the bounce back\nUsed to get paid for shows in front-door money\nFive, ten, twenties, hand sanitize after you count that\nMe and Gibbo was about that\nEatin' Applebee's and Outback\nSouthwest, no first class\nHilton rooms, gotta double up\nWritin\u2019 our name on a double cup\nWe ain\u2019t even have a tour bus\nGirls wouldn't even think of recordin\u2019 me\nI fall asleep in sororities\nI had some different priorities\nWeezy had all the authority\nWomen I like was ignorin' me\nNow they like, \"Aren't you adorable?\"\nI know the question rhetorical\nI took the team plane from Oracle\nMama never used to cook much\nUsed to chef KD\nNow me and Chef, KD\nBet on shots for twenty G's\nI brought the game to its knees\nI make too much these days to ever say, \"Poor me\"\nWhere you at? I never see you\nFree smoke, free smoke, ayy\nFree smoke, free smoke, ayy\nFree smoke, free smoke, ayy\n\nNiggas moves so waste\nPlease come outside the house and show yourself\nSo I can say it to your face\nIt\u2019s bound to happen, man, it's gotta happen now\nSo let's just get it out the way\nLot of niggas goin' bad on me\nPlease, one at a time\nI wanna move to Dubai\nSo I don't never have to kick it with none of you guys\nI didn't listen to Hov on that old song\nWhen he told me, \"Pay it no mind\"\nI get more satisfaction outta goin' at your head\nAnd seein' all of you die\nAnd I seen a lot of you die\n\nFree smoke, free smoke, ayy\nFree smoke, free smoke, ayy\nFree smoke, free smoke, ayy\nHidden Hills where I post, yeah\n'Ye already know, yeah\nI'm the troublemaker in the neighborhood\nFar as troublemakin' goes, yeah\nHouse party up the road, yeah\nI'm not Kid 'n Play\nThis kid doesn't play about the flow, yeah\nY'all keep playin' with your nose, yeah\nYou get high and do the most, yeah\nHow you let the kid fightin'\nGhost-writin' rumors turn you to a ghost?\nOh, you niggas got jokes\nFree smoke, free smoke\nBaka\nYeah, we outchea\nYa dun know, eh?\nIt's a OVO ting, eh?\nYa dun know, eh?\nIt's a East Side ting, eh?\nYa dun know, eh?\nMore life"}
{"text":"First things first: rest in peace, Uncle Phil\nFor real\nYou the only father that I ever knew\nI get my bitch pregnant, I'ma be a better you\nProphecies that I made way back in the Ville\nFulfilled\nListen, even back when we was broke, my team ill\nMartin Luther King woulda been on Dreamville, talk to a nigga\n\nOne time for my L.A. sisters\nOne time for my L.A. ho\nLame niggas can't tell the difference\nOne time for a nigga who know\n\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\n\nNo role models, and I'm here right now\nNo role models to speak of\nSearchin' through my memory, my memory, I couldn't find one\nLast night, I was gettin' my feet rubbed by the baddest bitch\nNot Trina, but I swear to God, this bitch'll make you call your girl up\nAnd tell her, \"Hey, what's good?\nSorry, I'm never comin' home, I'ma stay for good\"\nThen hang the phone up and proceed to lay the wood\nI came fast like 9-1-1 in white neighborhoods\nAin't got no shame 'bout it\nShe think I'm spoiled and I'm rich 'cause I can have any bitch\nI got defensive and said, \"Nah, I was the same without it\"\nBut then I thought back, back to a better me\nBefore I was a B-list celebrity\n'Fore I started callin' bitches \"bitches\" so heavily\nBack when you could get a platinum plaque without no melody, you wadn't sweatin' me\nYou might also like\nOne time for my L.A. sisters\nOne time for my L.A. ho\nLame niggas can't tell the difference\nOne time for a nigga who know\n\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\n\nI want a real love, dark-skinned Aunt Viv love\nThat Jada and that Will love\nThat leave a toothbrush at your crib love\nAnd you ain't gotta wonder whether that's your kid love\nNigga, I don't want no bitch from reality shows\nOut-of-touch-with-reality hoes\nOut in Hollywood bringin' back five or six hoes\nFuck 'em then we kick 'em to the do', nigga, you know how it go\nShe deserved that, she a bird, it's a bird trap\nYou think if I didn't rap she would flirt back?\nTakin' off her skirt, let her wear my shirt, 'fore she leave\n\"I'ma need my shirt back\" (Nigga, you know how it go)\nOne time for my L.A. sisters\nOne time for my L.A. ho\nLame niggas can't tell the difference\nOne time for a nigga who know\n\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nThere's an old saying in Tennessee\u2014I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee\u2014that says, fool me once... shame on... shame on you\nFool me\u2014can't get fooled again\n\nFool me one time, shame on you (Ayy)\nFool me twice, can't put the blame on you (Ayy)\nFool me three times, fuck the peace sign\nLoad the chopper, let it rain on you (Bop, bop, bop)\nFool me one time, shame on you (Ayy)\nFool me twice, can't put the blame on you (Ayy)\nFool me three times, fuck the peace sign\nLoad the chopper, let it rain on you (Bop, bop, bop)\nMy only regret was too young for Lisa Bonet\nMy only regret was too young for Nia Long\nNow all I'm left with is hoes from reality shows\nHand her a script, the bitch prolly couldn't read along\nMy only regret was too young for Sade Adu\nMy only regret, could never take Aaliyah home\nNow all I'm left with is hoes up in Greystone\nWith the stale face 'cause they know it's they song\n\nShe shallow but the pussy deep (She shallow\nShe shallow)\nShe shallow but the pussy deep (She shallow), yeah, ayy\n(She shallow)\nShe shallow but the pussy deep (She shallow), haha\n(She shallow)\nShe shallow but the pussy deep (She shallow\nShe shallow)\n\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\nDon't save her, she don't wanna be saved\n1.3KEmbed"}
{"text":"Got me up all night\nAll I'm singin' is love songs\nShe got me up all night\nConstant drinkin' and love songs\nShe got me up all night\nDown-and-out with these love songs\nShe got me up all night\nDrownin' out with these love songs\nShe got me up all night (Yeah)\nAll I'm singin' is love songs\nShe got me up all night (Yeah)\nConstant drinkin' and love songs\nShe got me up all night (Yeah)\nDown-and-out with these love songs\nShe got me open all night (Uh-huh)\nGot me open all night, hey\n\nOkay, back when I was sleeping in my mama crib\nOr even back when I was up there in Mohammed crib\nPaying seventeen hundred for the rent, money well spent\nNo heater, but a nigga made heat, may I vent?\nHad a thing for ya, even wrote the song \"Dreams\" for ya\n\u2018Cause I had dreams for ya, thoughts of a ring for ya\nChildish shit, you know child and shit\nAnonymous flowers sent, you know coward shit\nNow a nigga signed to Hov, took a power trip\nBack home, I'm grown now, and the city's my throne now, huh\nThe same clubs that I used to get tossed out\nLife got Kriss Kross'd: totally crossed out\n\u2018Cause now I'm in this bitch and I'm totally bossed out\nOld chicks crying \u2018cause they know that they lost out\nBut I'm still on you, I'm still on you\nMy drink spill on me, while I feel on you, I'm sayin'\u2014\nYou might also like\nWould you believe me if I said I'm in love?\nBaby, I want you to want me\nWould you believe me if I said I'm in love?\nBaby, I want ya\n\nAnd we are, we are, we are\nGot me up all night\nAnd we are, we are, we are\nAll I'm singin' is love songs\nAnd we are, we are, we are\nGot me up all night\nAnd we are, we are, we are (She got me)\nAnd we are, we are, we are (She got me)\n\nWell, this has got to be the longest crush ever\nIf I ever get to fuck it'd be the longest bust ever\nLove is a drug, like the strongest stuff ever and\nFuck it, I'm on one, you feel me?\nShe on a power trip, she got me where she want a nigga\nWife'ing in the club, man, my homies gon' disown a nigga\nLike, \"Give me twenty dollars, dollars!\"\nAss stupid, how you get to college, college?\nI'm in your city and I'm wonderin' if you're home now\nWent and found a man, but I'm hopin' you're alone now\nCan't help but feeling like I dropped the ball, clich\u00e9\nI used to pop up on you at the mall each day\nNow, typically I kick game like Eastbay\nBut you got a nigga freeze-framed yelling: \"Please play!\"\nFor Pete's sake, homie, pull it together\nJust fuck her one time and be through with forever, but\u2014\nWould you believe me if I said I'm in love?\nBaby, I want you to want me\nWould you believe me if I said I'm in love?\nBaby, I want ya, yeah\n\nAnd we are, we are, we are\nGot me up all night\nAnd we are, we are, we are\nAll I'm singin' is love songs\nAnd we are, we are, we are\nGot me up all night\nAnd we are, we are, we are (She got me)\nAnd we are, we are, we are (She got me)\n\nGot me up all night (All night)\nAll I'm singin' is love songs\nShe got me up all night (All night)\nConstant drinkin' and love songs\nShe got me up all night (All night)\nDown-and-out with these love songs\nShe got me up all night (All night)\nDrownin' out with these love songs\nShe got me up all night (Yeah)\nAll I'm singin' is love songs\nShe got me up all night (Yeah)\nConstant drinkin' and love songs\nShe got me up all night (Yeah)\nDown-and-out with these love songs\nShe got me open all night (Uh-huh)\nGot me open all night, hey\nBack when I was sleeping in my mama crib\n*Space Bar Tap*"}
{"text":"Cole\nCole world\nYeah\nLet me take y'all back, man\nAs I do so well\nWadn't nuttin' like that\nMan, it wadn't nuttin' like that\n\nFirst time, she was in my math class (Uh-huh)\nLong hair, brown skin with the fat ass\nSat beside me, used to laugh, had mad jokes\nThe teacher always got mad, so we passed notes\nIt started off so innocent\nShe had a vibe and a nigga started diggin' it, uh\nI was a youngin, straight crushin', tryna play the shit cool\nBut a nigga couldn't wait to get to school, \u2018cause when I seen\nThem thighs on her and them hips on her and them lips on her\nGot me daydreamin', man, what\nI'm thinkin' how she rides on it, if she sits on it, if she licks on it\nMake it hard for me to stand up, as time goes by\nAttractions gettin' deep and\nWet dreamin', thinkin' that I'm smashin' but I'm sleepin', I want it bad\nAnd I ain't never been obsessed before\nShe wrote a note that said, \"You ever had sex before?\" Damn\u2026\nYou might also like\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nI ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\n\nI wrote back and said\n\"Of course I had sex before,\" knowin' I was frontin'\nI said, \"I'm like a pro, baby,\" knowin' I was stuntin'\nBut if I told the truth, I knew that I'd get played out, son\nHadn't been in pussy since the day I came out one, but\nShe don't know that, so she done wrote back and told me\n\"Oh, you a pro, homie? Well, I want you to show me\nMy mama gone for the weekend\nSo Saturday, baby, we can get to freakin'.\"\nThat's when my heart start racin' and my body start sweatin'\nBaby, you done woke my lil' man up\nI'm thinkin' how that body look naked when you layin' on the bed\nTeacher, please, don't make me stand up, I wrote back like\n\"Yeah, baby, sound like a plan.\"\nStill tryna play it cool, sound like the man\nBut I was scared to death, my nigga, my stomach turnin'\nTalkin' shit, knowin' damn well I was a virgin, fuck\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nI ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\n\nYeah, you know that feelin' when you\nKnow you finna bone for the first time?\nI'm hopin' that she won't notice it's my first time\nI'm hopin' that my shit is big enough to fuck wit'\nAnd most of all I'm prayin', \"God, don't let me bust quick\"\nI'm watchin' pornos, tryna see just how to stroke right\nPractice puttin' condoms on\u2014how it go? Right\nI'm in her crib, now a nigga palm sweatin'\nWith a pocket full of rubbers and an erection\nThat's when my hands start touchin' and her face start blushin'\nAnd a nigga roll over on top and then she\nGet my pants unbuckled and her hands start rubbin'\nOn me, ooh girl, don't stop, it's time for action\nPull out the condoms real smooth, yeah, just how I practiced\nBut right before I put it in, she flinched and grabbed it and said\n\"I wanna get somethin' off my mental\nI can tell you're a pro, but baby, be gentle, \u2018cause\u2014\"\n\u2018Cause I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nI ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\nAnd I ain't never did this before, no\n1.1KEmbed"}
{"text":"Even though I\u2014\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down\nYou were the one that was tryna keep me way down\nBut like the sun, know you know I find my way back round\nThey tell me I should fix my grill \u2018cause I got money now\nI ain't gon' sit around and front like I ain't thought about it\nA perfect smile is more appealing, but it's funny how\nMy shit is crooked\u2014look at how far I done got without it!\nI keep my twisted grill, just to show the kids it's real\nWe ain't picture perfect, but we worth the picture still\nI got smart, I got rich and I got bitches still\nAnd they all look like my eyebrows: thick as hell\nLove yourself, girl, or nobody will\nThough you a woman I don't know how you deal\nWith all the pressure to look impressive and go out in heels\nI feel for you, killin' yourself to find a man that'll kill for you\nYou wake up, put makeup on\nStare in the mirror, but it's clear that you can\u2019t face what\u2019s wrong\nNo need to fix what God already put his paintbrush on\nYour roommate yelling, \"Why you gotta take so long?!\"\nWhat it's like to have a crooked smile\nYou might also like\nEven though I\u2014\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down (This crooked smile)\nYou were the one that was tryna keep me way down\nBut like the sun, know you know I find my way back round (Yeah)\n\nTo all the women with the flaws, know it's hard, my darling\nYou wonder why you're lonely and your man's not calling\nYou keep falling victim \u2018cause you're insecure\nAnd when I tell you that you're beautiful you can't be sure\n\u2018Cause he don't seem to want you back and it's got you askin'\nSo all you see is what you lackin', not what you packin'\nTake it from a man that loves what you got\nAnd baby girl, you a star, don't let 'em tell you you're not\nNow is it real? Eyebrows, fingernails, hair\nIs it real? If it's not, girl, you don't care\n\u2018Cause what's real is somethin' that the eyes can't see\nThat the hands can\u2019t touch, that them broads can\u2019t be\nAnd that\u2019s you, never let 'em see your frown\nAnd if you need a friend to pick you up, I\u2019ll be around\nAnd we can ride with the windows down, the music loud\nI can tell you ain\u2019t laughed in a while\nBut I wanna see that crooked smile\nEven though I\u2014\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down\nYou were the one that was tryna keep me way down\nBut like the sun, know you know I find my way back round\n\nWe got the crooked smile, we can style on 'em\nBack round, crooked smile, we can style on 'em\nYou were the one that was tryna keep me way down\nBut like the sun, know you know I find my way back round\nWe don't look nothin' like the people on the screen\nYou know, the movie stars, picture perfect beauty queens\nBut we got dreams and we got the right to chase \u2018em\nLook at the nation\nThat\u2019s a crooked smile braces couldn\u2019t even straighten\nSeem like half the race is either on probation or in jail\nWonder why we inhale, \u2018cause we in Hell already\nI ask: If my skin pale, would I then sell like Eminem or Adele?\nBut one more time for the 'Ville\nAnd fuck all of that beef shit, nigga, let\u2019s make a mil\nHey officer man, we don\u2019t want nobody gettin' killed\nJust open up that cell, let my brother outta jail\nI got money for the bail now, and well now\nIf you askin' will I tell now\u2014ayy, hell nah\nI ain\u2019t snitchin' 'cause, man, they get them niggas stitches now\nIf you was around then you wouldn\u2019t need a witness now\nHow you like this crooked smile?\nEven though I\u2014\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down (That crooked smile)\nYou were the one that was tryna keep me way down\nBut like the sun, know you know I find my way back round\n\nWe got the crooked smile, we can style on 'em\nBack round, crooked smile, we can style on 'em\nYou were the one that was tryna keep me way down\nBut like the sun, know you know I find my way back round\n\n\nLa la la, la la la, la-la\u2014la\u2014la\nLa la la, la la la, la-la\u2014la\u2014la\nLa la la, la la la, la-la\u2014la\u2014la\nLa la la, la la la, la-la\u2014la\u2014la\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down\nOn my way, on my way, on my way down\nYou were the one that was tryna keep me way down\nBut like the sun, know you know I find my way back round\nBack round\nYou were the one that was tryna keep me way down\nBut like the sun, know you know I find my way back round\nBack round\nYou were the one that was tryna keep me way down\nBut like the sun, know you know I find my way back round\nRound"}
{"text":"You good, T-Minus?\n\nNiggas been countin' me out\nI\u2019m countin' my bullets, I'm loadin\u2019 my clips\nI'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list\nI'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin\u2019 \u2019em hit\nThe real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit\nThe game is off balance, I\u2019m back on my shit\nThe Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty\nBut that's how I like it, you all on my dick\n\nI'm all in my bag, this hard as it get\nI do not snort powder, I might take a sip\nI might hit the blunt, but I'm liable to trip\nI ain\u2019t poppin' no pill, but you do as you wish\nI roll with some fiends, I love 'em to death\nI got a few mil' but not all of them rich\nWhat good is the bread if my niggas is broke?\nWhat good is first class if my niggas can't sit?\nThat's my next mission, that's why I can't quit\nJust like LeBron, get my niggas more chips\nJust put the Rollie right back on my wrist\nThis watch came from Drizzy, he gave me a gift\nBack when the rap game was prayin' I'd diss\nThey act like two legends cannot coexist\nBut I'd never beef with a nigga for nothin'\nIf I smoke a rapper, it's gon' be legit\nIt won't be for clout, it won't be for fame\nIt won't be 'cause my shit ain't sellin' the same\nIt won't be to sell you my latest lil' sneakers\nIt won't be 'cause some nigga slid in my lane\nEverything grows, it's destined to change\nI love you lil' niggas, I'm glad that you came\nI hope that you scrape every dollar you can\nI hope you know money won't erase the pain\nTo the OGs, I'm thankin' you now\nWas watchin' you when you was pavin' the ground\nI copied your cadence, I mirrored your style\nI studied the greats, I'm the greatest right now\nFuck if you feel me, you ain't got a choice\nI ain't do no promo, still made all that noise\nThis year gon' be different, I set my intentions\nI promise to slap all that hate out your voice\nYou might also like\nNiggas been countin' me out\nI'm countin' my bullets, I'm loadin' my clips\nI'm writin' down names, I'm makin' a list\nI'm checkin' it twice and I'm gettin' 'em hit\nThe real ones been dyin', the fake ones is lit\nThe game is off balance, I'm back on my shit\nThe Bentley is dirty, my sneakers is dirty\nBut that's how I like it, you all on my dick\n\nI just poured somethin' in my cup\nI've been wantin' somethin' I can feel\nPromise I am never lettin' up\nMoney in your palm don't make you real\nFoot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck\nI'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel\nIf it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck\nPistol in your hand don't make you real\n\nI'm dead in the middle of two generations\nI'm little bro and big bro all at once\nJust left the lab with young 21 Savage\nI'm 'bout to go and meet Jigga for lunch\nHad a long talk with the young nigga Kodak\nReminded me of young niggas from 'Ville\nStraight out the projects, no fakin', just honest\nI wish that he had more guidance, for real\nToo many niggas in cycle of jail\nSpending they birthdays inside of a cell\nWe coming from a long bloodline of trauma\nWe raised by our mamas, Lord, we gotta heal\nWe hurting our sisters, the babies as well\nWe killing our brothers, they poisoned the well\nDistorted self-image, we set up to fail\nI'ma make sure that the real gon' prevail, nigga\nI just poured somethin' in my cup\nI've been wantin' somethin' I can feel\nPromise I am never lettin' up\nMoney in your palm don't make you real\nFoot is on they neck, I got 'em stuck\nI'ma give 'em somethin' they can feel\nIf it ain't 'bout the squad, don't give a fuck\nPistol in your hand don't make you real\n\nMoney in your palm don't make you real\nPistol in your hand don't make you real\nMoney in your palm don't make you real"}
{"text":"She knows\nShe knows, ayy\nBad things happen to the people you love\nAnd you find yourself praying up to heaven above\nBut honestly, I've never had much sympathy\n'Cause those bad things, I always saw them coming for me\nI'm gonna run, run away (Oh, I), run run away, run away (Oh, I-I-I)\nRun away and never come back (Well, alright)\nRun run away, run run away (Oh, I), run away (Oh, I-I-I)\nShow 'em that your color is black (Well, alright)\n\nDamned if I do, damned if I don't\nYou know I got a girl back home\nYou got a man, what you want, what you want?\nWhat these bitches want from a nigga?\nOn some DMX shit, huh\nI know them other niggas love tricking\nOn some BMX shit, but not me\nNow I'm sure you done heard about me\nA black star, Mos Def, Kweli\nGood so them bad hoes try me, they try me\nThis is Martin Luther King in the club, getting dubs\nWith a bad bitch in his ear, sayin' that she down for whatever\nIn the back of his mind is Coretta\nYou might also like\nAnd she knows, she knows\nAnd I know she knows, and I know she knows\nAnd deep down, she knows, she knows\nAnd I know she knows, and I know she knows\n\nWell, alright, oh, I, oh, I-I-I\nI can't be what you want from me, well, alright\nOh, I, oh, I-I-I\nI can't be what you want from me, well, alright\n\nDamned if I do, shit, damned if I don't\nI'm passing up on bad hoes\nTrying to be the man that she want, what she want?\nWhat she\u2014What she want from a nigga?\nTo put a ring on it\nGot a bitch on my dick right now\nAnd she just want to sing on it\nGot me up so high, try and get a piece of that apple pie\nI be up so high, try and get a piece of that apple pie\nDancehall vibes with my pants on fire\n'Cause I told her I was sleep\n'Cause I creep with this pretty young thing that I chose\nShe could be doing the same thing, I suppose\nAnd she knows, she knows\nAnd I know she knows, and I know she knows\nAnd deep down, she knows, she knows\nAnd I know she knows, and I know she knows\n\nWell, alright, oh, I, oh, I-I-I\nI can't be what you want from me, well, alright\nOh, I, oh, I-I-I\nI can't be what you want from me, well, alright\n\nNiggas say, \"Turn up,\" hoes say, \"Turn up\"\nOnly bad thing 'bout a star is they burn up\nNiggas say, \"Turn up,\" hoes say, \"Turn up\"\nOnly bad thing 'bout a star is they burn up\nRest in peace to Aaliyah\nRest in peace to Left Eye (Left Eye)\nMichael Jackson, I'll see ya\nJust as soon as I die (I die)\n\nGot me up so high, try and get a piece of that apple pie, uh\nI be up so high, try and get a piece of that apple pie\nGot me up so high, try and get a piece of that apple pie, uh\nI be up so high, try and get a piece of that apple pie\nWell, alright, oh, I, oh, I-I-I\nI can't be what you want from me, well, alright\nOh, I, oh, I-I-I\nI can't be what you want from me, well, alright\n\nRun away, run away\u2014 Back\nRun away, run away\u2014 Back\nRun away, run away\u2014 Back\nRun away, run away\u2014 Back"}
{"text":"Huh, ayy, put a finger in the sky if you want it, nigga\nAyy, put two fingers in the sky if you want her\nAyy, put a finger in the sky if you want it, nigga\nAyy, put two fingers in the sky if you want her\nAyy, put a finger in the sky if you want it, nigga\nAyy, put two fingers in the sky if you want her\nAyy, put a finger in the sky if you want it, nigga\nAyy, put two fingers in the sky if you want her\n\nSometimes you worry 'bout the things he can provide for ya\nWhenever you around I seem to come alive for ya\nI finally recognize the feelings that's inside for ya\nAlthough I know your man and trust me he would die for ya\nThese quiet thoughts of you been going on for years now\nI saw you in the party, soft lips, soft-spoken\nI came to talk to you but homie interfered now\nHe introduced you as his girl and I was heartbroken\nSome people talk about that love at first sight shit\nTo keep it real I don't know whether I believe it's true\nBut if it is then tell me if I'm wrong or right if\nI fell in love with you before I ever even knew\nI catch your eye then look away as if it never happened\nAt times I feel as though I'm caught up in a strange dream\nIf eyes could talk then mines would tell ya that I'm feeling you (Feeling you)\nSometimes I swear your eyes be telling me the same thing\nYou might also like\nShe fuck with small-town niggas, I got bigger dreams (Bigger dream), hm\nShe fuck with small-town niggas, I got bigger dream (Bigger dreams), hm, listen\nShe fuck with small-town niggas, I got bigger dreams (Bigger dream)\nShe fuck with small-town niggas, I got bigger dream, bigger dreams, listen\n\nClub jumping, don't stop, off top\nBut you know we only go 'til 2 o'clock\nPut yo' motherfuckin' hood up, it's the weekend\nDrop that, back that ass up and bitches get to freaking\nLast call at the bar, ladies get a drink, nigga get some balls\nAin't no telling you gon' see that bitch tomorrow\nStop holding up the wall waiting for the right song\nBetter holla 'cause you know they 'bout to cut the lights on\n\nAnd put my number in it\u2014\nHuh, I'm staring at you from afar\nI'm wondering 'bout you, like where you from and who you are\n'Cause you a star, no, not the type that snort the white lines\nI mean the type that light the night time\nI heard you got a man, but who in their right mind letting you out the house alone?\nTell me is your house a home?\nWhy you in the club looking like you out to zone?\nNow be discreet and pull out your phone and put my number in it\nText a nigga when your man leave you unattended\nOn a scale from 1 to 10 that girl's a hundred and I want it\nNo question, I know destiny well\nAnd though I sin the Lord blessing me still\nEvery saint got a past, every sinner got a future\nEvery loser gotta win and every winner gotta lose someday\nThey say it's just a matter of time\nAnd if I had my way then you would be mine, huh\nShe fuck with small-town niggas, I got bigger dreams (Bigger dream), yeah\nShe fuck with small-town niggas, I got bigger dream (Bigger dreams), hm, listen\nShe fuck with small-town niggas, I got bigger dreams (Bigger dream)\nShe fuck with small-town niggas, I got bigger dream, bigger dreams\n\nClub jumping, don't stop, off top\nBut you know we only go 'til 2 o'clock\nPut yo' motherfuckin' hood up, it's the weekend\nDrop that, back that ass up and bitches get to freaking\nLast call at the bar, ladies get a drink, nigga get some balls\nAin't no telling you gon' see that bitch tomorrow\nStop holding up the wall waiting for the right song\nBetter holla 'cause you know they 'bout to cut the lights on\n\nI know you were made for me but\nDarling don't you wait for me 'cause\nI can see the promised land but\nI can't do no promising and\nI know you were made for me but\nDarling don't you wait for me 'cause\nI can see the promised land but\nI can't do no promising\nAyy, put a finger in the sky if you want it, nigga\nAyy, put two fingers in the sky if you want her\nAyy, put a finger in the sky if you want it, nigga\nAyy, put two fingers in the sky if you want her\nAyy, put a finger in the sky if you want it, nigga\nAyy, put two fingers in the sky if you want her\nAyy, put a finger in the sky if you want it, nigga\nAyy, put two fingers in the sky if you want her"}
{"text":"Huh, love yours\nHuh, love yours\nNo such thing\nNo such thing as a life that's better than yours\nNo such thing as a life that's better than yours (Love yours)\nNo such thing as a life that's better than yours\nNo such thing, no such thing\n\nHeart beatin' fast, let a nigga know that he alive\nFake niggas, mad snakes\nSnakes in the grass let a nigga know that he arrived\nDon't be sleepin' on your level\n'Cause it's beauty in the struggle, nigga (Beauty, beauty)\nGoes for all y'all\nIt's beauty in the struggle, nigga (Beauty, beauty)\nLet me explain, yeah\n\nIt's beauty in the struggle, ugliness in the success\nHear my words and listen to my signal of distress\nI grew up in the city and know sometimes we had less\nCompared to some my niggas down the block, man, we were blessed\nAnd life can't be no fairy tale, no once upon a time\nBut I be goddamned if a nigga don't be tryin'\nSo tell me, Momma please, why you be drinkin' all the time?\nDoes all the pain he brought you still linger in your mind?\n'Cause pain still lingers on mine\nOn the road to riches, listen, this is what you'll find\nThe good news is, nigga, you came a long way\nThe bad news is, nigga, you went the wrong way\nThink being broke was better\nYou might also like\nNo such thing as a life that's better than yours (Ha)\nNo such thing as a life that's better than yours (Think being broke was better)\nNo such thing as a life that's better than yours\n(Think being broke was better, yeah) No such thing, no such thing\nFor what's money without happiness?\nOr hard times without the people you love?\nThough I'm not sure what's 'bout to happen next\nI ask for strength from the Lord (Man) up above\n'Cause I been strong so far, but I can feel my grip loosenin'\nQuick, do somethin' before you lose it for good, get it back and use it for good\nAnd touch the people how you did like before\nI'm tired of livin' with demons 'cause they always invitin' more\nThink being broke was better, now I don't mean that phrase with no disrespect\nTo all my niggas out there livin' in debt\nCashin' minimal checks, turn on the TV, see a nigga Rolex\nAnd fantasize about a life with no stress\nI mean this shit sincerely, and as a nigga who was once in your shoes\nLivin' with nothin' to lose, I hope one day you hear me\nAlways gon' be a bigger house somewhere, but nigga feel me\nLong as the people in that motherfucker love you dearly\nAlways gon' be a whip that's better than the one you got\nAlways gon' be some clothes that's fresher than the ones you rock\nAlways gon' be a bitch that's badder out there on the tours\nBut you ain't never gon' be happy 'til you love yours\nNo such thing as a life that's better than yours (Love yours)\nNo such thing as a life that's better than yours (Love yours)\nNo such thing as a life that's better than yours (Love yours)\nNo such thing, no such thing\nHeart beatin' fast, let a nigga know that he alive\nFake niggas, mad snakes\nSnakes in the grass let a nigga know that he arrived"}
{"text":"Hollywood Cole, go\nAyy, Hollywood, ayy, Hollywood Cole, go\nMy nigga done went Hollywood\n\nYou wanna know just where I'm at?\nWell, let me tell you 'bout it\nI put my city on the map\nBut let me tell you 'bout it\nThey tryna say I can't come back\nAyy, let me tell you 'bout it\nMan, fuck them niggas, I come back\nAyy, let me tell you 'bout it\nI wanna tell you 'bout it:\nHeads up, e'rybody run\nCole outside and he say he got a gun\nNiggas like, \"Man, that's what e'rybody said\" (Uh-huh)\nGo and pop the trunk and now e'rybody dead\nE'rybody scared of the nigga, aware that the nigga is better (Better)\nAll my bitches the pick of the litter (Yeah,) never bitter\nNiggas is fake, they anime\nMe, I never hate, get cake like Anna Mae, woah\nEat the cake bitch, eat the damn cake (Cake), uh\nFuck good, nigga, we demand great (Great)\nOrder Domino then she take off all her cloth'\nNigga you know how it go, make the pizza man wait (Hol' up! Hol' up! Hol' up!)\nThe best-kept secret\nEven Hov tried to keep it then I leaked the damn tape, uh\nRest in peace any nigga want beef\nSecret service couldn't keep the man safe\nYou might also like\nI said, to the window, to the wall (To the wall)\nMy nigga ride when I call (I call)\nGot bitches all on my mind (My mind)\nFuck nigga blockin' my shine (My shine)\nI know the reason you feel a lil way\nI know just who you wan' be\nSo every day I thank the Man upstairs\nThat I ain't you and you ain't me\n\nGet off my dick\nWoah (Get the fuck off my dick)\nGet off my dick\nWoah (Get the fuck off my dick, nigga)\nGet off my dick (Bitch)\nWoah (Get the fuck off my dick)\nGet off my dick\nWoah\n\nMan, fuck them niggas, I come home\nAnd I don't tell nobody\nThey gettin' temporary dough\nAnd I don't tell nobody\nLord, will you tell me if I changed?\nI won't tell nobody\nI wanna go back to Jermaine\nAnd I won't tell nobody\nThis is the part that the thugs skip!\n\nYoung nigga never had love, you know\nFoot massage, back rub shit\nBlowin' bubbles in the bathtub shit\nThat is until I met you\nTogether we done watched years go by\nSeen a river of your tears go by\nGot me thinkin' 'bout some kids, still I\nTell them hoes come through, the break-up\nGet to know somebody and you really learn\nA lot about 'em, won\u2019t be long 'fore you start to doubt 'em\nTell yourself you're better off without 'em\nThen in time, you will find can't walk without 'em\nCan't talk without 'em, can't breathe without 'em\nCame here together, you can't leave without 'em\nSo you walk back in, make a scene about 'em\nOn your Amerie, it's just 1 Thing about 'em, it's called love\nNiggas don't sing about it no more\nDon't nobody sing about it no more\n(No more), no more\nIt's called love\nNiggas don't sing about it no more\nDon't nobody sing about it no more\n(Nigga, don't sing about this shit, nigga)\nBut e'ry nigga in the club singin'\nTo the window, to the wall (To the wall)\nMy nigga ride when I call (I call)\nGot bitches all on my mind (My mind)\nFuck nigga blockin' my shine (My shine)\nI know the reason you feel a lil way\nI know just who you wan' be\nSo every day I thank the Man upstairs\nThat I ain't you and you ain't me\n\nGet off my dick\nBut e'ry nigga in the club singin'\nSingin' this song, yeah\nGot all the bitches in the club singin'\nSingin' this song, yeah\nAnd all the mamas let their kids sing it\nSing this song, yeah\nThe baby mamas and the mistresses\nThis song, yeah, song, yeah\nSong, yeah, song-song, yeah\n\nThe make up\nThis shit is retarded\nGoddamn\nWhy every rich Black nigga gotta be famous?\nWhy every broke Black nigga gotta be brainless?\nUh, that's a stereotype\nDriven by some people up in Aerial Heights, here's a scenario:\nYoung Cole pockets is fat like Lil Terrio\nDreamville, give us a year, we'll be on every show\nYeah, fuck nigga, I'm very sure\nHeh\nFuck the rest, I'm the best nigga out\nWhen I'm back home, I'm the best in the South\nWhen I'm in L.A., I'm the best in the West\nYou contest? You can test, I'ma stretch niggas out\nOoh, I'ma stretch niggas out\nThat go for all y'all if I left niggas out\nThis shit for e'rybody on my testicle\nPlease make sure you put the rest in your mouth, ho"}
{"text":"Oh, right, oh\nOh, why, na-da-da-da\n\nI keep my head high\nI got my wings to carry me\nI don't know freedom\nI want my dreams to rescue me\nI keep my faith strong\nI ask the Lord to follow me\nI've been unfaithful\nI don't know why you call on me\nThis is my canvas (Yeah, my canvas)\nI'ma paint it how I want it baby, oh I\nThis is my canvas\nI'ma paint it, paint it, paint it, how I want it nigga\nFuck you 'cause there, there is no right or wrong, only a song\nI like to write alone, be in my zone\nThink back to Forest Hills, no perfect home\nBut the only thing like home I've ever known\nUntil they snatched it from my mama\nAnd foreclosed her on the loan\nI'm so sorry that I left you there to deal with that alone\nI was up in New York City chasing panties, getting dome\nHad no clue what you was going through\nHow could you be so strong?\nAnd how could I be so selfish? I know I can be so selfish\nI could tell by how I treat you with my girl, damn she so selfless\nBut she put up with my ways because she loves me like you do\nAnd though it don't always show, I love her just like I love you, and\nI need to treat you better\nWish you could live forever\nSo we could spend more time together\nI love you mama\nYou might also like\nI keep my head high\nI got my wings to carry me\nI don't know freedom\nI want my dreams to rescue me\nI keep my faith strong\nI ask the Lord to follow me\nI've been unfaithful\nI don't know why you call on me\n\nE-e-eee, e-e, apparently\nYou believe in me, you believe in me\nE-e-eee, e-e, apparently\nYou believe in me, and I thank you for it, oh, I\n\nAnother day, another rhyme, ho\nAnother day, another time zone\nToday, I woke up feeling horny so it's only right, I got two bitches playing on my trombone\nKeep up, never sure where the words would take me\nNiggas eat em up and regurgitate me\nShit trump tight never slurred it lazy\nGive a virgin the urge to rape me, nigga please\nBest friends really make great for enemies\nMy watch came, niggas can't wait for one of these\nI see you, nigga, this ain't no Rolex, it's an AP, nigga\nI'm hot, dog, catch up to me, nigga\u2014 huh, couldn't resist\nAim for the stars and I shouldn't have missed\nBut I was riding on fumes, so I stopped by the moon\nNow I'm sitting on the hood of this bitch\nLike, \"Thanks for the view,\" waiting on thanks from a few\n'Cause without me you wouldn't exist\nYou know that shit, gave you the blueprint, don't forget\nCole is your phone on zero percent\nGoing off, now niggas showing off\nNiggas swear they hard, but they flowing soft\nI'm taking off like \"boing!\" on a big ass Boeing, and getting head like a coin toss, too easy\nI keep my head high\nI got my wings to carry me\nI don't know freedom\nI want my dreams to rescue me\nI keep my faith strong\nI ask the Lord to follow me\nI've been unfaithful\nI don't know why you call on me\n\nE-e-eee, e-e, apparently\nYou believe in me, you believe in me\nE-e-eee, e-e, apparently\nYou believe in me, and I thank you for it, oh I"}
{"text":"She my number one, I don't need nothing on the side\nSaid that I was done for good and don't want no more lies\nBut my phone be blowing up, temptations on my line\nI stare at the screen a while before I press decline\nBut she plants a seed and it still lingers in my mind\nTold myself I'm strong enough to shake it and I'm trying\nBut I'm only human, I know loving you's a crime\nIf I take this cookie now one day I'll do the time\n\nSlip me a xanny at once (somebody)\nI got the earth in a blunt (smoke)\nI get the skirt when I want (skrrt!)\nI get to skrrt when I want (skrrt!)\nDue to the money aroma (somebody)\nMy girl she got a diploma (smoke)\nShe got wife written all over\nShe got wife written all over\n\nAll a nigga know is how to fuck a good thing up\nRun from the pain, sip lean, smoke tree up\nWhen I'm in your town press pound hit me up\nWhen I'm in your town press pound hit me up\nOnly if you down and you slurp good D up\nIf the work good I'll be back for the re-up\nHate when I creep and the phone wake me up\nFake like I'm sleep knowing damn well I be up\nMonkey on my back and I walk a hundred miles\nGuilt make a nigga feel fake when he smile\nLove get confused in the mind of a child\n'Cause love wouldn't lie like I lie and it's wild\nWanna have my cake and another cake too\nEven if the baker don't bake like you\nEven when the flavor don't taste like you\nSo I'm back mobbing with the late night crew\nAll in your mind with fears that would come true\nThe back of my mind, the back of my mind was you\nWishing that I could blind myself from view\nAnd only have eyes, and only have eyes for you\nYou might also like\nSlip me a xanny at once (somebody)\nI got the earth in a blunt (smoke)\nI get the skirt when I want (skrrt!)\nI get the skirt when I want (skrrt!)\nDue to the money aroma (somebody)\nMy girl she got a diploma (smoke)\nShe got wife written all over\nShe got wife written all over\n\nI'm a fake nigga and it's never been clearer\nCan't see myself when I look in the mirror\nCan't see myself when I look in the mirror\nCan't see myself when I look in the mirror\nI'm a fake nigga and it's never been clearer\nCan't see myself when I look in the mirror\nCan't see myself when I look in the mirror\nCan't see myself when I look in the mirror\n\nShe my number one I don't need nothing on the side\nSaid that I was done for good and don't want no more lies\nBut my phone be blowing up, temptations on my line\nI stare at the screen a while before I press decline\nBut she plants a seed and it still lingers in my mind\nTold myself I'm strong enough to shake it and I'm trying\nBut I'm only human, I know loving you's a crime\nIf I take this cookie now one day I'll do the time\nI love her, I don't want to lose her\nI'm selfish, I know that I use her\nMy ego get stroked and I bruise her\nMy ego get stroked and I bruise her\nMy actions I know they confusin'\nAt home I look happy as usual\nOn the road I'm a mack, I'm a chooser\nI'm a addict, I'm maskin' that\nKevin's Heart\n\nThey tell me \"What's done in the dark\nWill find a way to shine\"\nI done did so much that when you see you might go blind\nWhat's done in the dark will always find a way to shine\nI done did so much that when you see you might go blind"}
{"text":"\nNigga why you actin' like a ho?\nKnow that I'ma ride for ya, either way it go\nTell me, girl why you be stressin' me for time?\nWhen you tell me you love me, can't you see I'm tryna climb?\nDamn my nigga why you actin' like a bitch?\nIf you scared to take a chance, how the fuck we gon' get rich?\nCome here baby why you always insecure?\nHold on tight to a nigga and be sure\n\nAin't a way around it no more, I am the greatest\nA lotta niggas sat on the throne, I am the latest\nI am the bravest, go toe to toe with the giants\nI ain't afraid of you niggas, I'll end up fading you niggas\n'Fore it's all said and done, this nigga need medicine\nMy Uzi, it weighed a ton, I need me a better gun\nIn fact I just might need two, cause niggas say they the one\nAnd I got something to prove\nForgive me, Lord, here they come, BLAOOW\n\nNigga why you actin' like a ho?\nKnow that I'ma ride for ya, either way it go\nTell me, girl why you be stressin' me for time?\nWhen you tell me you love me, can't you see I'm tryna climb?\nDamn my nigga why you actin' like a bitch?\nIf you scared to take a chance, how the fuck we gon' get rich?\nCome here baby why you always insecure?\nHold on tight to a nigga and be sure\nYou might also like\nMy inhibition's fighting my intuition\nPremature premonition, showing me the demolition\nOf these phony niggas, so ahead of my time\nEven when I rhyme about the future I be reminiscing\nYou want the truth well come and listen\nI'm like that time you bagged a dime and checked ya phone and saw it was a number missing\nAs fate passes you by, half of you try\nThe other half of you fried, too high to actually fly\nOne day y'all have to decide, who you gon' be\nA scary nigga or a nigga that's gon' rule like me\nKeep it true like me, Cole you might be\nLike the new Ice Cube, meets the new Ice-T\nMeets 2 Live Crew, meets the new Spike Lee\nMeets Bruce like Wayne, meets Bruce like Lee\nMeets '02 Lil Wayne, in a new white tee\nMeets KD, ain't no nigga that can shoot like me!\nBLAOOOW!\n\nNigga why you actin' like a ho?\nKnow that I'ma ride for ya, either way it go\nTell me, girl why you be stressin' me for time?\nWhen you tell me you love me, can't you see I'm tryna climb?\nDamn my nigga why you actin' like a bitch?\nIf you scared to take a chance, how the fuck we gon' get rich?\nCome here baby why you always insecure?\nHold on tight to a nigga and be sure\n(Who's the king?)\nCame from the bottom nigga, with stains on my shirt\nWhat you expected from me, I came from the dirt\n(Who's the king?)\nMoney my motivator, the songs that I sing\nPicture a peasant passin' from pawn to a king\n(Who's the king?)\nYou tell me ya still love me, if so then let me go\nWill I return or will I burn, never know\n(Who's the king?)\nLook in my eyes and see the future\nBut don't sugar coat it\nListen...\nHistory repeats itself and that's just how it goes\nSame way that these rappers always bite each other's flows\nSame thing that my nigga Elvis did with Rock 'n Roll\nJustin Timberlake, Eminem and then Macklemore\nWhile silly niggas argue over who gon' snatch the crown\nLook around, my nigga, white people have snatched the sound\nThis year I'll prolly go to the awards dappered down\nWatch Iggy win a Grammy as I try to crack a smile\nI'm just playin', but all good jokes contain true shit\nSame rope you climb up on, they'll hang you with\nBut not Jermaine, my aim too sick\nI bang nigga, I came to bring the pain my brain too quick\nYou see how I maneuver this game, I ain't stupid\nI recognize that life is a dream, and I dream lucid\nAnd break the chains and change minds\nOne verse at a time, and claim 2-6\nAnd fuck it, if the shoe fits, who's the king?\nWe all kings\n(We all kings nigga)\nKings of ourselves first and foremost\n(True)\nWhile the people debate who's the king of this rap game\nHere comes lil' ol' Jermaine\nWith every ounce of strength in his veins\nTo snatch the crown from whoever y'all think has it\nBut rather than place it on his head as soon as he grabs it\nPoof, boom, paow, it's like magic\nWith a flash and a BANG the crown disintegrates\nAnd falls to the Earth from which it came\nIt's done\nAin't gonna be no more kings\nBe wary of any man that claims\nBecause deep down he clings onto the need for power\nIn reality he's a coward\nUltimately he's scared to die\nAnd sometimes so am I\nBut when I'm in tune with the most high\nI realize, the fear lies in my lack of awareness of the other side\nToday I know that we are the same, are the same, you and I\nDifferent kind of skin, different set of eyes\nTwo different minds, but only one God\n(It's only one God nigga)\nIt's for all the kings\n'Cause I know deep down every poet just wanna be loved"}
{"text":"Yeah (For your eyes)\nFor your eyes only (For your eyes)\nFor your eyes only, for your eyes only\n(For your eyes, for your eyes)\nFor your eyes only\n\nHey, niggas be dying on the daily\nIt seems my dreams faded for far too long\nThe consequences deadly\nCan't visualize myself as nothing but a criminal\nControl the block, serving up rocks and stay subliminal\n'Cause young niggas is hardheaded, they letting off\nFull of adrenaline, ignorant to what death can cause\nAin't no coming back, family dressed in black\nPlus it's hot now, the cops outside, it's hard to flip a pack\nAnd my daughter gotta eat, her mama be stressing me\nLike I ain't the one who put them Jays on her feet\nLike I ain't out in the field like that\nI might be low for the moment but I will bounce back\nDespite the charges, back to the wall, I fight regardless\nScreaming, \"Fuck the law,\" my life is lawless\nThat's what you call it, ain't got to be no psychic\nTo see this is like the farthest thing from heaven\nThis is hell and I don't mean that hyperbolic\nI try to find employment even if it's wiping toilets\nBut these felonies be making life the hardest\nResisting the temptation to run up and swipe a wallet\nOr run up on your yard, snatch your daughter bike and pawn it\nThat's why I write this sonnet\nIf the pressure get too much for me to take and I break\nPlay this tape for my daughter and let her know my life is on it\n(For your eyes) Let her know my life is on it\n(For your eyes) For your eyes only\nYou might also like\nFor your eyes, do you understand?\nFor your eyes, do you understand me?\nFor your eyes, do you understand?\nFor your eyes, do you understand me?\nFor your eyes, do you understand?\nFor your eyes, do you understand me?\nFor your eyes, do you understand?\nFor your eyes only\n\nYou probably grown now so this song'll hit you\nIf you hearing this, unfortunately means\nThat I'm no longer with you in the physical\nNot even sure if I believe in God but because you still alive\nHe got me praying that the spiritual is real\nSo I can be a part of you still, my pops was killed too\nSo I know how part of you feels\nMaybe you hate me, maybe you miss me, maybe you spite me\nLife goes in cycles, maybe you'll date a nigga just like me\nI hope not, I'm tired of dope spots\nAnd fiends that smoke rocks\nI've seen far too many niggas' hopes rot\nI'm writing this because me and the devil had a dance\nNow I see death around the corner, 'pologizing in advance\nDon't know if I ever had a chance\nAt a glance, I'm a failure\nAddicted to pushing paraphernalia\nBut Daddy had dreams once, my eyes had a gleam once\nInnocence disappeared by the age of eight years\nMy Pops shot up, drug-related, mama addicted\nSo Granny raised me in projects where thugs was hanging\nBlood was staining the concrete\nOlder niggas I loved talked like they was above\nMaintaining a timesheet, that's slow money\nPicked up the family business by the age of 13\nSix years later was handed sentence\n'Round the same time is when you came in this world\nMe and your mama thinking:\n\"What the fuck we naming this girl?\"\nI told her \"Nina,\" the prettiest name that I could think of\nFor the prettiest thing my eyes had ever seen, I was 19\nTook me two felonies to see the trap\nThis crooked-ass system set for me\nAnd now I fear it's too late for me to ever be\nThe one that set examples that was never set for me\nI'm living fast, but not fast enough\n'Cause karma keeps on catching up to me\nAnd if my past becomes the death of me\nI hope you understand\nFor your eyes, do you understand?\nFor your eyes, do you understand me?\nFor your eyes, do you understand?\nFor your eyes, do you understand me?\nFor your eyes, do you understand?\nFor your eyes, do you understand me?\nFor your eyes, do you understand?\nFor your eyes only\n\nIt's several ways I could've went out, too many to count\nWas it the trigger happy crackers that the badges give clout?\nWas it the young niggas, blasting frustrated\n'Cause the cash running out?\nNiggas don't know how to act in a drought\nSee, baby girl, I realized\nMy definition of a real nigga was skewed\nMy views misshaped by new mixtapes\nThat confirmed the shit I learned in the streets was true\nThat real niggas don't speak when they beef with you\nThey just pull up on your street, let the heat achoo\nAnd if a real nigga hungry, he gon' eat your food\nI was a fool, spent all my time ducking school, ducking cops\nDucking rules, hugging blocks that don't love you\nI pray you find a nigga with goals and point of views\nMuch broader than the corner, if not it's gon' corner you\nInto a box, where your son don't even know his pops\nAnd the cyclical nature of doing time continues\nMy worst fear is one day that you come home from school\nAnd see your father face while hearing 'bout tragedy on news\nI got the strangest feeling your daddy gonna lose his life soon\nAnd sadly if you're listening now it must mean it's true\nBut maybe there's a chance that it's not\nAnd this album remains locked\nIn a hard drive like valuable jewels\nAnd I can teach you this in person\nLike I'm teaching you to tie your own shoes\nI love you and I hope to God I don't lose you\nFor your eyes only\nFor your eyes, for your eyes only\nFor your eyes, for your eyes only\nFor your eyes, do you understand?\nFor your eyes only\n\nOne day your daddy called me, told me he had a funny feeling\nWhat he'd been dealing with lately, he wasn't telling\nI tried to pick his brains, still he wasn't revealing\nBut I could feel the sense of panic in his voice\nAnd it was chilling, he said:\n\"Jermaine, I knew you since we was children\nI never asked for nothing, when times was hard\nI never had discussions with you, begging you to help me\nI dealt with the repercussions of my actions\nI know you tried to steer me 'way from that shit\nBut that shit was in my blood, you know my life\nI know your momma, nigga, send my love\nIn case I never get a chance to speak again\nI won't forget the weekends spent sleeping at your crib\nThat's the way I wished my family lived\nBut my granny crib was in the 'jects\"\nI had to interject like:\n\"Nigga, what you talking 'bout? Fuck is you getting at?\"\nHe said, \"Listen, I got no time to dive into descriptions\nBut I been having premonitions\nJust call it visions from the other side\nI got a feeling I won't see tomorrow\nLike the time I'm living on is borrowed\nWith that said, the only thing I'm proud to say, I was a father\nWrite my story down, and if I pass\nGo play it for my daughter when she ready\"\nAnd so I'm leaving you this record, for your eyes only\nDon't you ever scratch or disrespect it\nThis perspective is a real one, another lost 'Ville son\nI dedicate these words to you and all the other children\nAffected by the mass incarceration in this nation\nThat sent your pops to prison when he needed education\nSometimes I think that segregation would've done us better\nAlthough I know that means that I would never\nBe brought into this world 'cause my daddy was so thrilled\nWhen he found him a white girl to take back to Jonesboro\nWith lil' Zach and Cole World, barely one years old\nNow it's 30 years later, making sure this story's told\nGirl, your daddy was a real nigga, not 'cause he was cold\nNot because he was the first to get some pussy 12 years old\nNot because he used to come through in the Caddy on some vogues\nNot because he went from bagging up them grams to serving O's\nNah, your daddy was a real nigga, not 'cause he was hard\nNot because he lived a life of crime and sat behind some bars\nNot because he screamed, \"Fuck the law\"\nAlthough that was true\nYour daddy was a real nigga 'cause he loved you\nFor your eyes only"}
{"text":"Go, go, go\nGo, go, go\nGo, go, go\nGo, go, go\n\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\n\nWow, niggas been crampin' my style\nBlowin' my high, they want a reply\nThe number one question is, \"How?\"\nHow does it feel now that you on?\nHow much you worth? How big is your home?\nHow come you won't get a few features?\nI think you should? How 'bout I don't?\nHow 'bout you just get the fuck off my dick?\nHow 'bout you listen and never forget?\nOnly gon' say this one time, then I'll dip\nNiggas ain't worthy to be on my shit\nHaven't you heard? I'm as cold as the tip\nTip of the iceberg that tipped the Titanic\nNo tip-toein' around it, my shit is gigantic\nAs big as the fuckin' Atlantic, I'm lit, bitch\nYou might also like\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\n\nHow I grew up, only few would've loved\n'Member I got my first view of the blood\nI'm hangin' out and they shoot up the club\nMy homie got pharmaceutical plug\nI smoke the drug and it run through my vein\nI think it's workin', it's numbin' the pain\nDon't give a fuck and I'm somewhat insane\nDon't give a fuck and I'm somewhat insane\nYeah, at this shit daily, sipped so much Actavis\nI convinced Actavis that they should pay me\nIf practice made perfect, I'm practice's baby\nIf practice made perfect, I'm practice's baby\nPlatinum wrist ridin' in back like Miss Daisy\nPlatinum disc and I own masters, bitch, pay me\nY'all niggas trappin' so lack-sical-daisy\nMy nigga sell crack like it's back in the '80s\nKnow a young nigga, he actin' so crazy\nHe serve a few packs and he jack a Mercedes\nHe shoot at the police, he clap at old ladies\nHe don't give a fuck if them crackers gon' hang him\nBitches been askin', \"What have you done lately?\"\nI stacked a few M's like my last name was Shady\nMy life is too crazy, no actor could play me\nMy life is too crazy, no actor could play me\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\nThis is what you call a flip\nTen keys from a quarter brick\nBentley from his mama's whip\nK.O.D., he hard as shit\n\nPower, greed\nMoney, Molly, weed\nPercs, Xannys, lean, fame\nAnd the strongest drug of them all\nAnd the strongest drug of them all\nLove"}
{"text":"33 years, damn, I'm grateful I survived\nWe wasn't s'posed to get past 25\nJoke's on you motherfucker, we alive\nAll these niggas popping now is young\nEverybody say the music that they make is dumb\nI remember I was 18\nMoney, pussy, parties, I was on the same thing\nYou gotta give a boy a chance to grow some\nEverybody talkin' like they know somethin' these days\nNiggas actin' woke, but they broke, umm\nI respect the struggle but you all frontin' these days\nMan, they barely old enough to drive\nTo tell them what they should do, who the fuck am I?\nI heard one of 'em dissed me, I'm surprised\nI ain't trippin', listen good to my reply\nCome here lil' man, let me talk with ya\nSee if I can paint for you the large picture\nCongrats 'cause you made it out your mama house\nI hope you make enough to buy your mom a house\nI see your watch icy and your whip foreign\nI got some good advice, never quit tourin'\n'Cause that's the way we eat here in this rap game\nI'm fuckin' with your funky lil' rap name\nI hear your music and I know that rap's changed\nA bunch of folks would say that that's a bad thing\n'Cause everything's commercial and it's pop now\nTrap drums is the shit that's hot now\nSee, I've been on a quest for the next wave\nBut never mind, that was just a segue\nI must say, by your songs I'm unimpressed, hey\nBut I love to see a Black man get paid\nAnd plus, you havin' fun and I respect that\nBut have you ever thought about your impact?\nThese white kids love that you don't give a fuck\n'Cause that's exactly what's expected when your skin black\nThey wanna see you dab, they wanna see you pop a pill\nThey wanna see you tatted from your face to your heels\nAnd somewhere deep down, fuck it, I gotta keep it real\nThey wanna be black and think your song is how it feels\nSo when you turn up, you see them turnin' up too\nYou hit the next city, collect your money when it's due\nYou gettin' that paper, swimmin' in bitches, I don't blame you\nYou ain't thinkin' 'bout the people that's lookin' like me and you\nTrue, you got better shit to do\nYou coulda bought a crib with all that bread that you done blew\nI know you think this type of revenue is never endin'\nBut I wanna take a minute just to tell you that ain't true\nOne day, them kids that's listening gon' grow up\nAnd get too old for that shit that made you blow up\nNow your show's lookin' light cause they don't show up\nWhich unfortunately means the money slow up\nNow you scramblin' and hopin' to get hot again\nBut you forgot you only popped 'cause you was ridin' trends\nNow you old news and you goin' through regrets\n'Cause you never bought that house, but you got a Benz\nAnd a bunch of jewels and a bunch of shoes\nAnd a bunch of fake friends, I ain't judgin' you\nI'm just tellin' you what's probably gon' happen when you rappin'\n'Bout the type of shit you rappin' 'bout\nIt's a faster route to the bottom\nI wish you good luck\nI'm hoping for your sake that you ain't dumb as you look\nBut if it's really true what people sayin'\nAnd you call yourself playin' with my name\nThen I really know you fucked, trust\nI'll be around forever 'cause my skills is tip-top\nTo any amateur niggas that wanna get rocked\nJust remember what I told you when your shit flop\nIn five years you gon' be on Love & Hip-Hop, niggaYou might also like"}
{"text":"I guess the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope, sellin' dope\nOkay, the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope,  sellin' dope\nSellin' dope, sellin' dope, sellin' dope\n\nYeah, I don't want no picture with the president\nI just wanna talk to the man\nSpeak for the boys in the bando\nAnd my nigga never walkin' again\n'pologize if I'm harpin' again\nI know these things happen often\nBut I'm back on the scene\nI was lost in a dream\nAs I write this, the team down in Austin\nI been buildin' me a house\nBack home in the South, ma\nWon't believe what it's costin'\nAnd it's fit for a king, right?\nOr a nigga that could sing\nAnd explain all the pain that it cost him\nMy sixteen should've came with a coffin\nFuck the fame and the fortune\nWell, maybe not the fortune\nBut one thing is for sure though\nThe fame is exhaustin'\nThat's why I moved away, I needed privacy\nSurrounded by the trees and Ivy League\nStudents that's recruited highly\nThinkin' \"You do you and I do me\"\nCrib has got a big 'ol back 'ol yard\nMy niggas stand outside and pass cigars\nFilled with marijuana, laughin' hard\nThankful that they friend's a platinum star\nIn the driveway there's no rapper cars\nJust some shit to get from back and forth\nJust some shit to get from back and forth\nWelcome to the Sheltuh, this is pure\nWe'll help you if you've felt too insecure\nTo be the star you always knew you were\nWait, I think police is at the door\nYou might also like\nOkay, the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope\nHm, I guess the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope, sellin' dope\nThe neighbors think I'm\u2014neighbors think I'm\u2014\n(Don't follow me, don't follow me...)\nI think the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope\n(Don't follow me, don't follow me...)\nI guess the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope, sellin' dope\nSellin' dope, sellin' dope, sellin' dope\nWell, motherfucker, I am\n\nSome things you can't escape:\nDeath, taxes, and a ra-\n-cist society that make\nEvery nigga feel like a candidate\nFor a Trayvon kinda fate\nEven when your crib sit on a lake\nEven when your plaques hang on a wall\nEven when the president jam your tape\nTook a little break just to annotate\nHow I feel, damn, it's late\nI can't sleep cause I'm paranoid\nBlack in a white man territory\nCops bust in with the army guns\nNo evidence of the harm we done\nJust a couple neighbors that assume we slang\nOnly time they see us we be on the news, in chains, damn\nDon't follow me\nDon't follow me\nDon't follow me\nDon't follow me\n\nOkay, the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope\nHm, I guess the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope, sellin' dope\nThe neighbors think I'm...neighbors think I'm\u2014\n(Don't follow me, don't follow me...)\nI think the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope\n(Don't follow me, don't follow me...)\nI guess the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope, sellin' dope\nSellin' dope, sellin' dope, sellin' dope\nWell motherfucker, I am\n\nI am, I am, I am, I am\nWell, motherfucker, I am\nI think the neighbors think I'm sellin' dope\nI am, I am, I am\nWell, motherfucker, I am\nSo much for integration\nDon't know what I was thinkin'\nI'm movin' back to south side\nSo much for integration\nDon't know what I was thinkin'\nI'm movin' back to south side"}
{"text":"\nUh\n\nSince a youngin' always dreamed of gettin' rich\nLook at me, my nigga\nFantasize about a white picket fence\nWith some trees, my nigga\nUsed to want a Pathfinder with some tints\nThat's all I need, my nigga\nThrow some 20's on that bitch and get it rinsed\nBut now I see, my nigga\nThat the world's a lot bigger ever since\nPicked up the paper\nAnd they say my nigga Eddie caught a body, I'm convinced\nAnybody is a killer, all you gotta do is push 'em to the limits\nFuck being timid in the Civic\nPoliticin' with the pushers and the pimps\nI'm tryna write a story, can I get a glimpse?\nYeah, can I get a glimpse?\nLast night I had a bad dream (Bad dream, bad dream)\nThat I was trapped in this city\nThen I asked is that really such a bad thing? (Bad thing, bad thing)\nThey robbin' niggas on the daily\nCan you blame a nigga that ain't never had things?\n(What's the value of a thing?) Guess not\nLast night they pulled up on my nigga at the light like\u2014\nUgh, nice watch, run it\nHands in the air now, hands in the air, run it\nHands in the air now, hands in the air, run it\nHands in the air now, hands in the air\nHands in the air now, hands in the air\nYou might also like\nSmall town nigga, Hollywood dreams\nI know that everything that glitters ain't gold\nI know the shit ain't always good as it seems\nBut tell me 'til you get it how could you know?\nHow could you know? (How could you know? How could you know? How could you know? How could you know? How could you know?)\nHow could you know? (How could you know? How could you know? How could you know? How could you know? How could you know?)\nListen up, I'm 'bout to go and get rich\nFuck with me, my nigga\nWe gon' circle 'round the Ville and hit a lick\nCop some trees, my nigga\nAnd some powder, bag it up and make it flip\nYou gon' see, my nigga\nOne day we gon' graduate and cop a brick\nAnd that's the key, my nigga\nListen up, I'm 'bout to go and get rich\nStand back and watch if you want to, nigga\nMe, I want my pockets fat, a badder bitch\nTired of seein' niggas flaunt, I wanna flaunt too, nigga\nWatch some rollers in a fuckin' Crown Vic\nTryna lock a nigga up, that's what they won't do, nigga\nWanna know a funny thing about this shit?\nEven if you let 'em kill your dream\nIt'll haunt you, nigga, haunt you\nLast night I had a bad dream\nThat I was trapped in this city\nThen I asked is that really such a bad thing?\nI look around like\u2014\nDo you wanna be another nigga, that ain't never had things? (What's the value of a thing?)\nGuess not\nLast night we pulled up on a nigga at the light like\n(You know what the fuck it is, nigga, run that shit right now)\nUh, nice watch, run it\nHands in the air now, hands in the air, run it\nHands in the air now, hands in the air, run it\nHands in the air now, hands in the air\nHands in the air now, hands in the air\n\nFather forgive me for my childish ways\nI look outside and all the clouds are gray\nI need your hands to take me miles away\nYour wish is my command, my command, my command\nBut before you go I've got to warn you now\nWhatever goes up surely must come down\nAnd you'll get your piece, but know peace won't be found\nSo why just take me man, take me man, take me man\nYour wish is my command, my command, my command"}
{"text":"\nMe and my bitch, took a little trip\nDown to the garden, took a little dip (Oh no)\nApple juice falling from her lips, took a little sip\nLil' sip, took a lil' sip\nTook a lil' sip, t-took a lil', took a lil', took a lil' sip\n\nAyo, I walk through the valley of the shadow of death\nWhere niggas hold tech's like they mad at the ref\nThat's why I keep a cross on my chest, either that or a vest\nDo you believe that Eve had Adam in check\nAnd if so, you gotta expect\nTo sip juice from the forbidden fruit and get loose\nCole is the king, most definite\nMy little black book thicker than the Old Testament\nNiggas pay for head but the pussy sold separate\nSame bitch giving brains to the minister\nThe same reason they call Mr. Cee the finisher\nForbidden fruit, watch for the Adam's apple\nSlick with words don't hate me, son\nWhat you eat don't make me shit and who you fuck don't make me cum\nPut a price on my head won't make me run\nTry to kill me but it can't be done\n'Cause my words gon' live forever\nYou put two and two together Cole here forever\nYou might also like\nMe and my bitch, took a little trip\nDown to the garden, took a little dip (Oh no)\nApple juice falling from her lips, took a little sip\n\nBitches come and go (You know that)\nMoney come and go (You know that)\nLove come and go (Don't shit last)\nBitches come and go (You know that)\nMoney come and go (You know that)\nLove come and go (Don't shit last)\n\nTake a seat baby girl you've been all in my mind\nI know I ain't called gotta pardon my grind\nJust copped a maroon 5, no Adam Levine\n'Came a man by myself, only father was time\nI know that she relate baby daddy ain't shit\nSo she raised that nigga kids but she swallowing mine\nAnd that's why you all on my mind\nAll on my line like caller number nine\n'Cause a nigga poppin' like Harlem in the nine-seven\nWay before Mase was a reverend\nI was a young nigga making A's at 11\nOr 12, trying to get a taste of the Heaven\nOr Hell, only time gon' tell\nFuck her while her mama home, \"baby, don't yell\"\nHow many records do a nigga gotta sell\nJust to get the cover of the XXL\nOr Fader, fuck your magazine hater\nWhen I say that I'm the greatest I ain't talking about later\nI'ma drop the album same day as Kanye\nJust to show the Boyz the man now like Wany\u00e1\nAnd I don't mean no disrespect, I praise legends\nBut this what's next, the boy sick, can't disinfect\nLife's a bitch and her pussy's wet\nMy clip is loaded and this is the kiss of... death\nBlaow\nMe and my bitch, took a little trip\nDown to the garden, took a little dip (Oh no)\nApple juice falling from her lips took a little sip\n\nBitches come and go (You know that)\nMoney come and go (You know that)\nLove come and go (Don't shit last)\nBitches come and go (You know that)\nMoney come and go (You know that)\nLove come and go (Don't shit last)\n\nDon't shit last, don't shit last and you know that\nWent to hell, got hot didn't melt\nThe only man above me is God himself\nAll these other niggas is below me\nWord to Phife, Q-Tip, Ali, and Jarobi\nWhat up Queens\nCole is the King and you know that\nStarted with a dollar and a dream, and you know that\nNever give a bird bitch a ring, you should know that\nBitch, bitch\nThat should be my new ad lib (bitch)\nI got a new one. I finally got a cool ad lib\nBe at all the shows everybody be like, bitch\nBitch, bitch\nOr you can do the low cool shit, bitch\nYo, yo, yo pull over right here, right here, here you go\nYeah pull over right here, to the right\nPull over, pull over, pull over, pull over\nIght, look look, park right here\nI'ma be out it'll be like thirty minutes tops\nIt'll be like thirty minutes, I'll be right back out, ight\nBitches come and go, bitches come and\nYo, yo what up, what's popping, I'm back, I'm back\nYo you got that piece ready for me, that Jesus piece\nNah the gold, the rose gold joint, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah let me see that, oh shit what is that some\nWhat's, what the fuck is that platinum\nIs that? What's that chain right there\nIs that-ss-ss white gold, that's platinum\nIs that plat, well niggas doing platinum again, niggas doing, niggas ain't even platinum yet right, oh shit bout to make\nYo I'm trying to bring that shit back, kill these niggas\nLet me see that one too, the wat, the watch, the platinum watch"}
{"text":"\nLa la la\nLa la la la la\nLa la la (Yeah)\nLa la la la la (Yeah)\n\nI grew up, a fucking screw up, tie my shoe up\nWish they was newer, damn, need something newer\nIn love with the baddest girl in the city, I wish I knew her\nI wish I wasn't so shy, I wish I was a bit more fly\nI wish that I could tell her how I really feel inside\nThat I'm the perfect nigga for her, but then maybe that's a lie\nShe like a certain type of nigga, and it's clear I'm not that guy\nBall player, star player, I'm just watchin' from the side\nOn the bench, 'cause my lack of confidence won't let me fly\nI ain't grow up with my father, I ain't thinkin' 'bout that now\nFast forward four years or so from now, I'll probably cry\nWhen I realize what I missed, but as of now my eyes are dry\n'Cause I'm tryna stay alive, in the city where too many niggas die\nDreamin' quiet trying to dodge a suit and tie\nWho am I? (La la la)\nAyy, who am I? (La la la la la, yeah)\nYou might also like\nThings change, rearrange and so do I\nIt ain't always for the better, dawg, I can't lie\nI get high 'cause the lows can be so cold\nI might bend a little bit but I don't fold\nOne time for my mind and two for yours\nI got food for your thoughts to soothe your soul\nIf you see my tears fall, just let me be\nMove along, nothing to see\n\nI always did shit the hard way\nMy nigga  slangin' in the hallway\nBurnt CD's and trees like this was Broadway\nTimes Square, kept the dimes there in the locker\nSome Reggie Miller with more brown hairs than Chewbacca\nWhispers that he got it for the low-low, sell a\nDime for a dub, them white boys ain't know no better\nBesides, what's twenty dollars to a nigga like that?\nHe tell his pops he need some lunch and he gon' get it right back\nI peeped game, got home snatched my mama keychain\nTook her whip, the appeal, too ill to refrain\nI hit the boulevard, pull up to my nigga front do'\nHis mama at home, she still let 'em hit the blunt though\nI told her, \"Hello\", and sat with my nigga and laughed\nAnd talked about how we gon' smash all the bitches in class\nI complimented how I see him out here getting his cash\nAnd just asked, \"What a nigga gotta do to get that?\nPut me on,\" he just laughed when he seen I was sure\n17 years breathing, his demeanor said more\nHe told me, \"Nigga, you know how you sound right now?\nIf you wasn't my mans, I would think that you a clown right now\nListen, you everything I wanna be, that's why I fucks with you\nSo how you looking up to me when I look up to you?\nYou 'bout to go get a degree, I'ma be stuck with two choices:\nEither graduate to weight or selling number two\nFor what? A hundred bucks or two a week?\nDo you think that you would know what to do if you was me?\nI got, four brothers, one mother that don't love us\nIf they ain't want us, why the fuck they never wore rubbers?\"\nI felt ashamed to have ever complained\nAbout my lack of gear and thought about how far we done came\nFrom trailer park to a front yard with trees in the sky\nThank you mama, dry your eyes, there ain't no reason to cry\nYou made a genius and I, ain't gon' take it for granted\nI ain't gon' settle for lesser, I ain't gon' take what they handed\nNah, I'm gon' take what they owe me and show you that I can fly\nAnd show old girl what she missing, the illest nigga alive\nAyy, who am I?\nThings change, rearrange and so do I (Ayy, who am I?)\nIt ain't always for the better, dawg, I can't lie (Who am I?)\nI get high 'cause the lows can be so cold\nI might bend a little bit but I don't fold\nOne time for my mind and two for yours\nI got food for your thoughts to soothe your soul\nIf you see my tears fall, just let me be\nMove along, nothing to see\n\nI never felt better"}
{"text":"I want to see you work out for me, work out for me\n\nAyy, we've got a good thing\nDon\u2019t know if I\u2019ma see you again\nBut is that a good thing?\n'Cause girl, I can\u2019t be your man, no ma'am\nI know what's on your brain\nYou probably hoped it never would end\nLike, \u201cIs it the real thing\nOr is it just a one-night stand?\u201d\nWell then\n\nLet me see you get high, then go low\nNow, girl, won't you drop that thing down to the floor?\nI\u2019m here for one night, how far will you go?\nI wanna see you (Work out for me, work out for me)\nHigh, then go low\nNow, girl, won't you drop that thing down to the floor?\nI\u2019m here for one night, how far will you go?\nI wanna see you (Work out for me, work out for me)\n\nShe like them boys with the big ol' chains\nRidin' around town in a big ol' Range\nI knew her when I rocked big ol' jeans\nNow the little nigga doin' big ol' thangs\nWould you look at that? I came back for her\nJust to give it to ya, like you asked for it\nMan, that thing in them jeans too fat for her\nRebounds so I caught her off the backboard\nI told her: \u201cBaby girl, come here\nKnow I run the town even when I ain't from there.\u201d\nAnd I brag hardly, but just to show up at this party\nI made what yo' nigga make in one year\nThat's unfair, but so is life, take a chance, roll the dice\nMoney can\u2019t buy you love, 'cause it\u2019s overpriced\nDon\u2019t overthink, just hope it's right\nI\u2019m only here for the night\nYou might also like\nAyy, we've got a good thing\nDon\u2019t know if I\u2019ma see you again\nBut is that a good thing?\n'Cause girl, I can\u2019t be your man, no ma'am\nI know what's on your brain\nYou probably hoped it never would end\nLike, \u201cIs it the real thing\nOr is it just a one-night stand?\u201d\nWell then\n\nLet me see you get high, then go low\nNow, girl, won't you drop that thing down to the floor?\nI\u2019m here for one night, how far will you go?\nI wanna see you (Work out for me, work out for me)\nHigh, then go low\nNow, girl, won't you drop that thing down to the floor?\nI\u2019m here for one night, how far will you go?\nI wanna see you (Work out for me, work out for me)\n\nCarolina Blue kicks, fresh on the scene\nHottest nigga on the block\nDamn, girl, you're mean\nThey be startin' shit, but it\u2019s yo' world\nOn my Martin shit: \u201cYou go, girl!\u201d\nShe bad and she know it\nSome niggas save hoes, I\u2019m not that heroic\nCould you be my escort?\n'Cause just like them two door Fords\nDamn, they don\u2019t make 'em like you no more\nCole World, real Cole World\nThem boys cool\u2014me, I\u2019m on fire\nKnow what's on my mind\nTryna see what's on yours tonight, tonight, tonight\nMove slow, 'cause you wanna live fast\nUp late so you'll probably skip class\nLife is a test so before the night pass, get right, get right\nAyy, we've got a good thing\nDon\u2019t know if I\u2019ma see you again\nBut is that a good thing?\n'Cause girl, I can\u2019t be your man, no ma'am\nI know what's on your brain\nYou probably hoped it never would end\nLike, \u201cIs it the real thing\nOr is it just a one-night stand?\u201d\nWell then (Cole World)\n\nStraight up, now tell me\nDo you really wanna love me forever? (Oh oh oh)\nOr is it just a hit-and-run?\n(Well, hey) Straight up, I tell ya\nI just really wanna cut when we together (Oh oh oh)\nCome here, girl, let's get it on!\n(Work out for me)\nStraight up, now tell me\nDo you really wanna love me forever? (Oh oh oh)\nOr is it just a hit-and-run?\nWell straight up, I tell ya\nI just really wanna cut when we together (Oh oh oh)\nCome here, girl, let's get it on!\n(Work out for me)"}
{"text":"Awwwww...haha\n\nNow I was barely seventeen with a pocket full of hope\nScreamin' \"dollar and a dream\" with my closet lookin' broke\nAnd my nigga's lookin' clean, gettin' caught up with that dope\nHave you ever served a fiend with a pocket full of soap?\nNigga I can tell you things that you probably shouldn't know\nHave you ever heard the screams when the body hit the floor?\nFlashbacks to the pain, wakin' up, cold sweats\nSix o'clock in the mornin', gotta hit the BowFlex\nGet my weight up on the block, keep watch for the cops\nGod they love to serve a nigga three hots and a cot\nNowadays crime pays like a part time job\nAnd the drought got me prayin' for a Carl Thom vibe\nSummer Rain come again\nNumb the pain 'cause it's hard for a felon\nIn my mind I been cryin', know it's wrong but I'm sellin'\nEyes wellin' up with tears\nThinkin' 'bout my niggas dead in the dirt\nImmortalized on this shirt\n\nReal niggas don't die\nForward with the plot\nOne-Seven-Forty-Five\nForm at the plot\nReal niggas don't die\nForm on the block\nReal niggas don't lie\nForm in the plot\nMy niggas don't die\nForm on the block\nReal niggas don't die\nForm on the block\nReal niggas don't die\nReal niggas don't die\nYou might also like\nHave you ever seen a fiend cook crack on the spoon?\nHave you ever seen a nigga that was black on the moon?\nHave you ever seen your brother go to prison as you cry?\nHave you ever seen a motherfuckin' ribbon in the sky?\nNope, all I see is that C.R.E.A.M nigga, that green\nI'm a black king, black jeans on my black queen\nAnd her ass fat, too fat for a flat screen\nI'm the type of nigga make the whole fuckin' trap lean\nKingpin nigga, put wings on a crack fiend\nIf they want a nigga, they gon' have to send a SWAT team\nAnd I'm goin' out like Scarface in his last scene\nA legend, what that mean\u2014?\n\nReal niggas don't die\nForward with the plot\nOne-Seven-Forty-Five\nForm at the plot\nReal niggas don't die\nForm on the block\nHood niggas don't lie\nForm in the plot\nMy niggas don't die\nForm on the block\nReal niggas don't die\nForm on the block\nReal niggas don't die\nReal niggas don't die\nTo die a young legend or live a long life unfulfilled\n'Cause you wanna change the world, but while alive you never will\n'Cause they only feel you after you gone, or I've been told\nAnd now I'm caught between bein' heard and gettin' old\nDamn, death creepin' in my thoughts lately\nMy one wish in this bitch, \"Make it quick if the Lord take me\"\nI know nobody meant to live forever anyway\nAnd so I hustle like my niggas in Virgini-A\nThey tellin' niggas, \"sell dope, rap or go to NBA\"\nIn that order, it's that sort of thinkin'\nThat been keepin' niggas chained at the bottom and hanged\nThe strangest fruit that you ever seen, ripe with pain, listen..."}
{"text":"Boy, ooh\nMy intuition is telling me there'll be better days, yeah (Mmm, mmm)\nMy intuition is telling me there'll be better days\nI like this tone (Ooh, ooh)\n\nYeah, my intuition is telling me there'll be better days\nI sit in silence and find whenever I meditate\nMy fears alleviate, my tears evaporate (Mmm)\nMy faith don't deviate, ideas don't have a date\nBut see, I'm growing and getting stronger with every breath (Mmm)\nBringing me closer to Heaven's doors with every step (Mmm)\nAs we speak, I'm at peace, no longer scared to die\nMost niggas don't believe in God and so they terrified\nIt's either that or they be fearing they gon' go to Hell\nAsking the Father for forgiveness got 'em overwhelmed\n(Mmm, \"Please, God, I want to go to Heaven\")\nAs if He's spiteful like them white folks that control the jail (Mmm)\nSee, I believe if God is real, He'd never judge a man\nBecause He knows us all and therefore He would understand (Mmm)\nThe ignorance that make a nigga take his brother life\nThe bitterness and pain that got him beating on his wife  (Mmm), like\n\nI know you desperate for a change, let the pen glide\nBut the only real change come from inside\nBut the only real change come from inside\nBut the only real change come from\u2014 (Ooh)\nIn cemeteries or in chains I see men cry\nBut the only real change come from inside\nBut the only real change come from inside\nBut the only real change come from\u2014 (Ooh, oh, woah)\nYou might also like\nYeah, my\nChosen religion, Jesus piece frozen from sinnin'\nDoin' dirt, hoping to God, He know my intentions (Mmm)\nTo see a million 'fore I see a casket\nI got a baby on the way, know he gon' be a bastard  (Mmm)\nI'm living fast like I'm in a drag race, how that cash taste\nWhen I was a senior, I was ballin' on my classmates (Mmm)\nNiggas put three bullets in my car, one hit the gas tank\nKnow I got a angel, 'cause I'm supposed to have a halo (Mmm)\nRight now, my lifestyle destined for a federal facility\nFor my ability to make them birds fly (Mmm)\nFiends wan' get higher than a bird's eye view\nAnd who am I to tell a nigga what to do? I just supply\nIt's economics, my business ain't got the suit and tie (Oh, wait)\nKeep a pistol at all times, niggas want what's mine (Oh, wait)\nI can't oblige, dawg, I work too hard\nSo reach for it, get referred to God, I'm going hard, nigga (Mmm)\n\nI know you desperate for a change, let the pen glide\nBut the only real change come from inside\nBut the only real change come from inside\nBut the only real change come from\u2014 (Oh, hey)\nIn cemeteries or in chains I see men cry\nBut the only real change come from inside (Come from the inside)\nBut the only real change come from inside\nBut the only real change come from\u2014 (Yeah)\nProdigal son, got a new gun, this one\nDon't run out of ammo, lately been working on my handles\nCan I ball, become a star, and remain myself? (Myself)\nIf I fall, dust it off and regain myself (Myself)\nFuck 'em all, they don't know all the pain I felt\nI'm in awe, after all the fame I felt, I evolved (Ooh)\nI no longer bury demons\nI be a vessel for the truth until I'm barely breathing, I'm singing (Ooh)\n\nLife is all about the evolution\nI give up, I give in, I move back a little\nI live up, I look up, now I'm back for more, yeah, yeah (I, I, yeah)\nYou can dream but don't neglect the execution\nI give up, I give in, I move back a little (Oh, no)\nI live up, I look up, now I'm back for more (Oh, oh, no)\n\"Time is short,\" that's what somebody told me (Told me, oh)\nI give up, I give in, I move back a little\nI live up, I look up, now I'm back for more\nAyy, now I'm back for more\nToo short to keep following your homies\nI give up, I give in, I move back a little\nI live up, I look up, now I'm back for more\n\nI reminisce back to a time where niggas threw they hands (Ooh)\nAll of a sudden, niggas poppin' trunk and then we scram (Mmm)\nFinger on trigger make a little nigga understand\nWhat it's like to finally be the motherfuckin' man (Ooh, yeah)\nEyes wide, that's from the power that the coward feels\nNiggas die over bitches, disrespect, and dollar bills (Ooh)\nBloodshed done turned the city to a battlefield (Mmm)\nI call it poison, you call it real, that's how you feel?\n(Pop-pop-pop-pop-pop-pop)\nPistols be poppin' and niggas drop in a heartbeat\nScattered like roaches, a body laid on the concrete\n(Let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go) Body laid on the concrete\nLook, somebody laid on the concrete\nNo time for that, ain't no lookin' back, 'cause I'm running too\nI made it home, I woke up and turned on the morning news\nOvercame with a feeling I can't explain\n'Cause that was my nigga James that was slain, he was twenty-two\n(Last night at around 7:45) He was twenty-two\n(Twenty-two year old black male, suspect, reporting on the news)\n\n(I swear to God, bruh, no)\nWe're gathered here today...\n(I swear to God)\nTo mourn the life of James McMillan Jr. (No)\n(I swear to God\u2014nigga, I'ma kill them niggas, man)\nA tragedy, another tragedy in the black community\n(I promise you, bro)\nWe got to do better, people\nTwenty-two years old, this boy was too young (Oh my God)\n(I promise you, bro, I'ma kill them niggas)\nOur condolences go to his family, our prayers\n(I'ma kill them niggas myself)\nWe know he's in a better place\nWe know he's in a better place\nBut this has got to end, ladies and gentlemen\nWe've got to come together, this is\u2014this is beyond words (I'ma kill them niggas)\nNow I'd like to open this ceremony with a verse from\u2014"}
{"text":"Ayo\nAyo\nAyo, ah\nAyo, ah\nAyo\nAyo\nAyo, ah\nYeah\n\nI hate rich niggas, god damn it\n'Cause I ain't never had a lot, damn it\nWho you had to kill? Who you had to rob? Who you had to fuck\nJust to make it to the top, damn it?\nOr maybe that's daddy money; escalator, no ladder money\nEscalade, new Caddy money\nWorst fear - goin' broke, 'cause I'm bad with money\nCrooked smile nigga, momma never had the money, damn\nI ain't trippin'\nNigga Jordan, I ain't Pippen, yeah\nUp the steps, I ain't slippin', tears\nBlood, sweat, and I ain't crippin', here's\nA song you can sing along wit'\nWhen you down on some let you know you ain't alone shit\nWhen your momma ain't at home 'cause she got a second job\nDeliverin' pizzas, you think she out there gettin' robbed\nPlease God, watch her, I know how niggas do\nHalf cracker but a nigga too\nTalkin' all that shit 'bout your step-pops\nHow he was a dog, now look at you\nI ain't bad as that nigga, plus dawg\nI'm a grown man now, I ain't mad at that nigga\nBut if a plane crashed and it only killed his lame ass\nI'd be glad it's that nigga, nigga\nDid Kay dirty, now it's back to broke\nRefund checks, used that to float\nMomma gets depressed, falls in love with the next maniac\nOn crack, use that to cope\nMake a nigga smoke a whole sack of dope\nWritin' rhymes, try and bring back the hope\nTried to ride the storm out and crashed the boat\nCoulda drowned, but I grabbed the rope\nYou might also like\nAnd there go you\nAnd there go you\nAnd there go you\nSellin' me dreams and tellin' me things you knew\nAnd there go you\nAnd there go you\nAnd there go you\nSellin' me dreams and tellin' me things you knew\nSing\n\nYou got what I want\nI got what you need\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\"\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\"\nYou got what I want\nI got what you need (Yeah)\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\"\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\" (Yeah)\nI hate rich niggas, god damn it\n'Cause I ain't never had a lot, damn it\nNiggas can't front on the flows you got\nBut e'ry fuckin' verse how much dough you got\nHomie, don't quit now\nHear my shit, you try switch now\nKnow you felt the shit just now\nKnow you felt the shit just now, ha\nAin't there more to you?\nDon't it ever get borin' to you?\nI realize deep down you a coward gettin' high off of power\nFuck it more to you, saw through you\nAnd it made me ashamed that I played the game\nNot for mo' money like Damon Wayans\nWanted the respect, but it came with fame\nI just wanted love, but this ain't the same\nI took a train down memory lane and watched lil Jermaine\nDo his thang before he made a name\nIt's like Sony signed Basquiat, he gave it all he got\nAnd now the nigga don't paint the same, damn\nI guess he can't complain\nAll the money that be rainin' in\nSpend a hundred thou' for the chain again\nThink of old-school niggas like Dana Dane\nProlly kill for another claim to fame, my brain just sayin'\n\"Yeah, nigga, least he ain't insane\nLeast he ain't insane\"\nYou ain't crazy, ma'fucker, you just 'fraid of change, ayy\nThat's new\nMaybe that's true\nBut listen here, I got a bigger fear:\nOne day that I become you when I become lost\nAnd I become heartless\nAnd numb from all the m\u00e9nages\nJust one bitch don't feel the same no more\nAnd Henny don't really kill the pain no more\nNow, I'm Cobain with a shotgun aimed at my brain\n'Cause I can't maintain no more\nTad bit extreme, I know\nMoney can't save your soul\nBut there go you\nThere go you\nThere go you\nSellin' me dreams and tellin' me things you knew\nAnd there go you\nAnd there go you\nAnd there go you\nSellin' me dreams and tellin' me things you knew\nSing\n\nYou got what I want\nI got what you need\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\"\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\"\nYou got what I want\nI got what you need\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\"\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\"\n\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\"\n\"How much for your soul, Anna?\""}
{"text":"Rap tune\nCan I make a million dollars off a rap tune?\nCan I make a million dollars off a rap tune?\nI'm tryna make a million dollars off a rap tune\nYeah, look\n\nThe real is back, the ville is back\nFlow bananas, here, peel this back\nAnd what you'll find is, your highness\nCan paint a picture that is vivid enough to cure blindness\nCarolina's finest, you knew that already\nIn terms of the greatest, I proved that already\nAnd if you would like, I do it twice\nI just sharpen my blade, for a minute became lost in my ways\nThis for my niggas that was tossed in the graves\nEvery so often I fade deep in my thoughts\nAnd then get lost in the days\nWe used to play before your coffin was made\nJust got the call nigga got caught with a stray\nHope he's okay\nJust got paid what Cochran got paid to free OJ\nJust to share my life on the stage in front of strangers\nWho know a nigga far too well, and that's the danger\nKnow me better than I know myself\nI rip a page out my notebook in anger\nAnd let these thoughts linger, singing\nYou might also like\nDon't give 'em too much you (Don't give 'em too much you)\nDon't let 'em take control (Don't let 'em take control)\nIt's one thing you do (It's one thing you do)\nDon't let 'em taint your soul (Don't let 'em taint your soul)\nIf you believe in God (If you believe in God)\nOne thing's for sure (One thing's for sure)\nIf you ain't aim too high (If you ain't aim too high)\nThen you aim too low (Then you aim too low)\n\nWhat's the price for a black man life?\nI check the toe tag, not one zero in sight\nI turn the TV on, not one hero in sight\nUnless he dribble or he fiddle with mics\nLook out the window 'cause tonight the city lit up with lights\nCameras and action\nMay no man alive come through and damage my faction\nI brought you niggas with me 'cause I  love you like my brothers\nAnd your mothers' like my mother\nThink we need a plan of action\nThe bigger we get the more likely egos collide, it's just physics\nPlease let's put our egos aside, you my niggas\nAnd should our worst tendencies turn us into enemies\nI hope that we remember these\nNights full of Hennessy\nWhen Hov around we switch up to that D'usse\nGotta show respect, one day we tryna stay where you stay\n'Cause we from where you from\nNot talkin' bout the slums\nI'm talkin' 'bout that mind state that keep a black nigga dumb\nKeep a black nigga dyin' by a black nigga gun\nAnd keep on listening to the frontin' ass rap niggas son\nYeah I said 'son'\nThis is New York's finest\nFor 11 winters straight I took on New York's climate\nLike show me New York's ladder\nI climb it and set the bar so high that you gotta get Obama to force the air force to find it\nNever mind it, you'll never reach that\nCole is the hypnotist, control the game whenever he snap\nThat's every track, nigga\nDon't give 'em too much you (Don't give 'em too much you)\nDon't let 'em take control (Don't let 'em take control)\nIt's one thing you do (It's one thing you do)\nDon't let 'em taint your soul (Don't let 'em taint your soul)\nIf you believe in God (If you believe in God)\nOne thing's for sure (One thing's for sure)\nIf you ain't aim too high (If you ain't aim too high)\nThen you aim too low (Then you aim too low)\n\nI ain't serve no pies, I ain't slang no dope\nI don't bring no lies, niggas sang my quotes\nI don't play no games, boy I ain't no joke\nLike the great Rakim, when I make my notes\nYou niggas might be L or you might be Kane\nOr you might be Slick Rick with 19 chains\nOr you might be Drizzy Drake or Kendrick Lamar\nBut check your birth date nigga, you ain't the god\nNah you ain't the god\nNigga, Cole the god (Cole the god, Cole the god)\nJanuary 28th\n\nMake a million dollars off a rap tune\nCan I make a million dollars off a rap tune?\n(*sound of baby laughing*)\nI'm tryna make a million dollars off a rap tune\nI wanna make a million dollars off a rap tune\nI'm gonna make a million dollars off a rap tune"}
{"text":"Life can bring much pain\nThere are many ways to deal with this pain\nChoose wisely\n\nWill I fall? Will I fly?\nHeal my soul\nFulfill my high\nCross my heart (Count, count, count, count it)\nAnd hope to die (Count, count, count, count it)\nWith my slice (Count, count, count, count it)\nOf Devil's pie\n\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\n\nI know that it's difficult\nI'm stackin' this paper, it's sort of habitual\nI blow the residual\nAnd fuckin' yo bitch like its part of my ritual\nPardon the visual\nBut money, it give me a hard-on it's typical\nI want it in physical\nA million dollars, I count up in intervals\nWithout it I'm miserable\nDon't wanna fall off so I'm all in my bag\nThankin' God like it's biblical\nI know it's gon' solve every problem I have\nI balled on the principal\nRemember the teachers was all on my ass\nNow look all of them, pitiful\nAnd all of a sudden I'm so good at math\nYou might also like\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCan't take it when you die, but you can't live without it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCan't take it when you die\n\nUno, dos, tres\n\nBig bills, big bills\nI fell in love with big wheels and quick thrills\nMy niggas runnin' tip drills, can't sit still\nDon't give a fuck if it kills, it mix well\nI'm only countin'\nBig bills, big bills\nI fell in love with big wheels and quick thrills\nMy niggas runnin' tip drills, can't sit still\nDon't give a fuck if it kills, it mix well\nI'm only countin'...\n\nUno, dos, tres, cuatro\nProceed with caution\nI heard if you chase it only results in\nA hole in your heart\nFuck it, I take the whole cake and I won't leave a portion\nIt's only an organ\nThank God mama couldn't afford the abortion\nThe loneliest orphan\nI flip my misfortune and grow me a fortune\nMy Rollie is scorchin'\nThem niggas that hated is slowly endorsin'\nNow Cole, he important\nMy niggas beside me like Tommy and Martin\nWe ball on your court and\nThen skate with your bitch like we Tonya Harding\nShe don't need her garments\nShe horny from all the money we countin'\n\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCan't take it when you die, but you can't live without it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCount it up, count it up, count it up, count it\nCan't take it when you die\nUno dos\nWill I fall? Will I fly?\nHeal my soul\nFulfill my high\nCross my heart\nAnd hope to die\nWith my slice of Devil\u2019s pie"}
{"text":"Freedom or jail, clips inserted\nA baby's bein' born, same time a man is murdered\nThe beginning and end\nAs far as rap go, it's only natural, I explain\nMy plateau, and also what defines my name\n\nYeah, long live the idols, may they never be your rivals\nPac was like Jesus, Nas wrote the Bible\nNow what you're 'bout to hear's a tale of glory and sin\nNo I.D. my mentor, now let the story begin\nI used to print out Nas raps and tape 'em up on my wall\nMy niggas thought they was words, but it was pictures I saw\nAnd since I wanted to draw, I used to read 'em in awe\nThen he dropped Stillmatic, rocked the cleanest velour\nFast forward, who'da thought that I would meet him on tour\nI'm earnin' stripes now, a nigga got Adidas galore\nBackstage I shook his hand, let 'em know that he's the man\nWhen he said he was a fan it was too hard to understand\nNo time to soak up the moment though \u2018cause I was in a jam\nHov askin' where's the record that the radio could play and\nI was strikin' out for months, 9th inning, feelin' fear\nJeter under pressure, made the biggest hit of my career\nBut at first, that wasn't clear, niggas had no idea\nDion called me when it dropped, soundin' sad but sincere\nTold me Nas heard your single and he hate that shit\nSaid, \"You the one, yo, why you make that shit?\"\nI can't believe I let Nas down\nDamn, my heart sunk to my stomach\nI can't believe I let Nas down\nI got defensive on the phone\nResentment was in my tone, fuck it\n\nLong live the idols, may they never be your rivals\nPac was like Jesus, Nas wrote the Bible\nNow what you're 'bout to hear is a tale of glory and sin\nNo I.D. my mentor, now let the story begin\n\nI couldn't help but think that maybe I had made a mistake\nI mean, you made \"You Owe Me\", dog, I thought that you could relate\nBut while I shot up the charts\nYou mean tellin' me that I was not up to par when I followed my heart?\nGranted, my heart was tainted by my mind that kept on sayin' \"Where's the hits?\"\nYou ain't got none, you know Jay'll never put your album out without none\nAnd, dog, you know how come\nLabels are archaic, formulaic with they outcomes, huh\nThey don't know, they just study the charts\nMe, I studied the shows, the fans, studied they hearts\nI had a feelin' I was killin', and this music we were spillin' out\nWould change lives forever, fuck the label, put it out\nFriday Night Lights blew, that was classic number two\nNow it seemed as if the Nas comparisons was comin' true\nStill no release date from the label, are they insane?\nGucc told me play the game to change the game\nBut on the way I let Nas down\nDamn, I got no one to blame\nI'm ashamed, I let Nas down\nBut this is God's plan, you could never understand, fuck it\n\nLong live the idols, may they never be your rivals\nPac was like Jesus, Nas wrote the Bible\nNow what you're 'bout to hear is a tale of glory and sin\nNo I.D. my mentor, now let the story begin\nI always believed in the bigger picture\nIf I could get them niggas to listen outside my core then I can open the door\nReintroduce 'em to honesty, show 'em that they need more\nThe difference between the pretenders and the Kendrick Lamars\nAnd so, I took the fall\nLike the son of the Lord on the cross dyin' for that fake shit you niggas bought\nFor the past decade\nIf I should pass, please let this be my last essay\nTherefore I write from the heart\nApologies to OG's for sacrificin' my art\nBut I'm here for a greater purpose, I knew right from the start\nI'm just a man of the people, not above but equal\nAnd for the greater good I walk amongst the evil\nDon't cry, Mama, this the life I choose myself\nJust pray along the way that I don't lose myself\nThis is for the nigga that said that Hip-Hop was dead\nI went to Hell to resurrect it, how could you fail to respect it?\nYou might also like\nLetting Nas down\nI got the phone call\nQuietly I mourned, dog, I let Nas down\nYeah, and on this flight\nMay I never lose sight, fuck it\n\nLong live the idols, may they never be your rivals\nPac was like Jesus, Nas wrote the Bible\nNow what you just heard's a tale of glory and sin\nNo I.D. my mentor, now let the story begin, begin\nStory begin"}
{"text":"99 ContributorsNobody\u2019s Perfect Lyrics\nHey, oh yeah\nUh, Cole world\nUh, oh yeah\n\nYeah, this is for all the fans that waited, the bitch niggas that hated\nOld hoes we dated, look, Mama, we made it\nYour son out in Barbados, cheese, eggs, and potatoes\nSmokin' weed on the beach as my mind workin' like Plato's\nAnalyzin' the world, fantasizin' 'bout girls\nI'm handin' diamonds and pearls, and vandalizin' her curls\nSweatin' her weave out, moans as she breathes out\nFuck I'm doin' in parties with Hova and Steve Stoute\nI step over piranha, death over dishonor\nThey killin' niggas for J's, that's death over designer\nHey, Cole heatin' up like that leftover lasagna\nRemember when I used to be stressed over D'wana\nNow a nigga only text and get stressed over Rihannas\nI'm talkin' tens and better, hood bitches in Timbs and sweaters\nAnd we always argue 'bout the same thing\nAnd tell me, why we gotta argue 'bout the same thing, same thing\nWell\n\nNobody's perfect, uh\nNobody's perfect, ay ay, uh\nHey, but you're perfect for me\nNobody's perfect, uh (Ay, ay, ay)\nNobody's perfect, ay\nHey, but you're perfect for me\nWe rollin', we ridin'\nHe like to go inside and\nI love to go all night and\nWe rock the boat, Poseidon\nI love to call your name, name, name\nYeah, baby, I love to call your name, name, name, ay\nYou might also like\nOh yeah, to my college girl: Take the weekend off and come home soon\nI graduated way too long ago to be sneakin' all in your dorm room\nBut that thing tight like Fort Knox\nSo I call you when the tour stops\nBut baby, where your roommates?\nDid you make sure the door's locked?\nShe love it when we get together\nSmoke a little weed but her shit together\nNow that I'm on I can pick and choose\nOnly fuck with hoes who got shit to lose\nYeah, I heard the stories 'bout different dudes\nHer man on campus, but it's fine by me\nShe say she only fucked like four\u2013five niggas\nSo you know you gotta multiply by three\n\nNobody's perfect, uh\nNobody's perfect, ay ay, uh\nHey, but you're perfect for me\nNobody's perfect, uh (Ay, ay, ay)\nNobody's perfect, ay\nHey, but you're perfect for me\nWe rollin', we ridin'\nHe like to go inside and\nI love to go all night and\nWe rock the boat, Poseidon\nI love to call your name, name, name\nYeah, baby, I love to call your name, name, name, ay"}
{"text":"Somebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nBe like this, be like this\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\n\nYeah, life is a balance\nYou lose your grip, you can slip into an abyss\nNo doubt, you see these niggas trippin'\nEgo in charge of every move, he's a star\nAnd we can't look away due to the days that he caught our hearts\nHe's fallin' apart, but we deny it\nJustifying that half ass shit he dropped, we always buy it\nWhen he tell us he a genius but it's clearer lately\nIt's been hard for him to look into the mirror lately\nThere was a time when this nigga was my hero, maybe\nThat's the reason why his fall from grace is hard to take\n'Cause I believed him when he said his shit was purer and he\nThe type of nigga swear he real but all around him's fake\nThe women, the dickriders, you know, the yes men\nNobody with the balls to say somethin' to contest him\nSo he grows out of control\nInto the person that he truly was all along, it's startin' to show\nDamn, wonder what happened\nMaybe it's my fault for idolizin' niggas\nBased off the words they be rappin'\nBut come to find out, these niggas don't even write they shit\nHear some new style bubblin' up, then they bite this shit\nDamn, that's what I get for lyin' to myself\nWell, fuck it, what's more important is he's cryin' out for help\nWhile the world's eggin' him on, I'm beggin' him to stop it\nPlayin' his old shit, knowin' he won't top it\nFalse prophets\nYou might also like\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nBe like this, be like this\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nFalse prophets (La-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la\u2026)\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nBe like this, be like this\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nYeah, false prophets\n\nI got a homie, he a rapper and he wanna win bad\nHe want the fame, the acclaim, the respect that's been had\nBy all the legends, so every time I see him, he stressin'\nTalkin' 'bout, niggas don't fuck with him, this shit is depressin'\nAnd I know he so bitter he can't see his own blessings\nGoddamn, nigga, you too blind to see you got fans, nigga\nAnd a platform to make a classic rap song\nTo change a nigga's life, but you too anxious livin' life\nAlways worried 'bout the critics who ain't ever fuckin' did it\nI write what's in my heart, don't give a fuck who fuckin' with it\nBut in a sense I can relate, the need to be great\nTurns into an obsession and keeps a nigga up late\nWritin' words, hopin' people observe the dedication\nThat stirs in you constantly, but intentions get blurred\nDo I do it for the love of the music or is there more to me?\nDo I want these niggas to worship me?\nFalse prophets\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nBe like this, be like this\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this, be like this\nFalse prophets (La-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la\u2026)\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nBe like this, be like this\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nYeah, false prophets\n\nThese rappers insecure\nThey talk about being a man so much\nI finally understand that they ain't even sure\n'Bout who they are and why they do this\nGuess I'm included in that category as a nigga who done had the glory\nMy highest moments come from tellin' all the saddest stories\nI've seen in my life, I be fiendin' to write\nSongs that raise the hair on my arms\nMy lowest moments came from tryin' too hard\nTo impress some niggas that couldn't care if I'm on\nTherefore from here on out, my hair grow out\nI care nothin' 'bout opinions\nI wanna give hope like the fountains you throw pennies in\nHit the store, take your diss, make your wish\nThis is dedicated to the ones that listen to me on some faithful shit\nI'm on some thankful shit\nBut the real God is in you, not the music you coppin'\nI hear my old shit and know I can top it\nFalse prophets\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nBe like this, be like this\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this, be like this\nFalse prophets (La-la-la-la-la-la, la-la-la\u2026)\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nBe like this, be like this\nSomebody shoulda told me it would be like this\nYeah, false prophets"}
{"text":"I'm a born sinner\nBut I die better than that, I swear\nIt's way darker this time\n*Laughs*\n\nSometimes I brag like Hov\nBorn sinner, the opposite of a winner\nSometimes I brag like Hov\nBorn sinner, the opposite of a winner\nSometimes I brag like Hov\nBorn sinner, the opposite of a winner\nSometimes I brag like Hov, now I'm in the limelight 'cause I rhyme tight\nCole, time to get paid, blow up like the World Trade\n\nSometimes I brag like Hov, sometimes I'm real like Pac\nSometimes I focus on the flow to show the skills I got\nSometimes I focus on the dough, look at these bills I got\nThis is a message for some rappers tryna steal my spot\nYou niggas famous on the internet, I'm real life hot, homie\nGet your weight up, fake niggas get sprayed up\nMy verbal AK slay faggots\nAnd I don't mean no disrespect whenever I say faggot, okay, faggot?\nUh, don't be so sensitive\nIf you want to get fucked in the ass that's between you and whoever else's dick it is\nPause, maybe that line was too far\nJust a little joke to show how homophobic you are\nAnd who can blame ya? Boy Meets World, I'm tryna find a new Topanga\nAnd bang her out, no hanging out\nMy pops was club hopping back when Rick James was out\nAnd all I get is Trinidad James, wait a minute, that's strange\nSip a bit of champagne, say fuck it\nIf the hoes like it I love it, nigga, nigga, nigga\nUsed to watch Rap City, Big Tigga, Tigga\nRap nerd, even copped Rah Diggah, Diggah\nPac had a nigga saying fuck Jigga, fuck Biggie\nI was only like 11 so forgive me\nA decade later I'd be all up in the city\nTryna get Hov to fuck with me\nWith a burned CD full of jams that was up in my hand\nWhen he said he didn't want it it was fuck him again\nOne day, he gon' regret playing me\nLittle did I know in a year he'd be fucking paying me, what could you say to me? I\nBeat the odds like Vegas, I used to rap about haters\nBefore niggas was hating me, now they hate to see\nA young black man with a college degree\nFucking all these little models for free, pardon me\nYou might also like\nSometimes I brag like Hov\nBorn sinner, the opposite of a winner\nSometimes I brag like Hov\nBorn sinner, the opposite of a winner\nSometimes I brag like Hov\nBorn sinner, the opposite of a winner\nSometimes I brag like Hov\nGot the game back, and I ain\u2019t ever letting go\n\nI'm the prince of the city, I studied Machiavelli\nYou niggas couldn't blow with C4 strapped to your belly\nI snuck up out the parts where niggas be living heartless\nAnd cannot tell the difference between Iraqi, Israeli\nAnd so I'm wondering really what could you actually tell me\nI'm tryna keep my homie from throwing crack in the skully\nSo, back with this pen to give back for my sins\nTook a black president to tell the Japanese sorry\nBut who the fuck gon' tell my niggas sorry\nNever seen his pops 'cause he's sorry\nFucked up education, would ask for reparations\nBut I\u2019m probably just gon' go and buy Ferraris, vroom\nPlease forgive him\nAccording to the preacher man he needs Jesus in him\nBut the Devil run the TV so the demons in 'em\nI'm in trouble\nDid a deal with the Devil, now I'm pleading with him\nLike give me my soul\nMy nigga, I ain't ever letting you go again\nI ain't ever letting go\nI ain't ever letting you go again\nPlease give me my soul\nI ain't ever letting go\nI ain't ever letting you go again\nPlease give me my soul\nI ain't ever letting go\nBut the Devil don't play fair\n\nI'm 'bout to go and join the Illuminati\nFuck everybody\nI'm 'bout to go and join the Illuminati\nFuck everybody\nI'm 'bout to go and join the Illuminati\nFuck everybody\nI'm 'bout to go and join the Illuminati\n\nThese next three bars is dedicated to the retards\nKeep on asking me about the Illuminati;\nIs you stupid, nigga? Young black millionaire\nOld white billionaires, I'm sure that they can do without me\nAnd I ain't really into sacrificing human bodies\nCouple more A's I would've been a summa cuma laude\nBeyonc\u00e9 told me that she want to cop the blue Bugatti\nThat shit is more than what I'm worth, I think she knew it probably\nWell this is awkward, awkward\nWant to know what else is really awkward, awkward\nWhen niggas buy rings for bitches I had flings with\nI'm praying I don't see 'em at the Oscars, Oscars\nHey J. Cole, this way, hey\nOh, hey, what's up? What's goin' on with you? Okay\nBig smile, man, big smile, let me see that crooked smile\nJ. Cole, J. Cole, this way, look this way\nOh friend hug, friend hug, just keep it friendly\nWe friends, friends\n\nRe-adjustin' my target audience, 'cause it's obvious\nI've gone astray, losing my way like Timberlake\nProduced by Timbaland on that goddamn FutureSex\/LoveSounds\nWhat's playing in my mind, just the sound of my whole career\nCrash and burning, the thing that I mostly fear\nWas on track for the first two years until I let the Devil steer\nNow what have we here? Mask my tears, but I\n\nI ain't ever letting go\nI ain't ever letting you go again\nI ain't ever letting go\nI ain't ever letting you go again\nI ain't ever letting go\nI ain't ever letting you go again\nI ain't ever letting go\nI ain't ever letting you go again\n\nAllow me to re-introduce myself, my name is Cole\nMy nigga\nBorn sinner, the opposite of a winner\nSometimes I brag like Hov\nAllow me to re-introduce myself, my name is Cole\nMy nigga\nBorn sinner, the opposite of a winner\nSometimes I brag like Hov\nBorn sinner"}
{"text":"I never felt so alive\nI never felt so alive\nI never felt so alive (I never felt so alive)\nI never felt so alive (I never felt so alive)\n\nCatch me, don't you\u2014\nCatch me, don't you catch me\nI've fallen in love for the first time\nI wanna cry\nAnd I ain't even tryna fight it\nDon't wanna die (Don't wanna die no more)\n'Cause now you're here and I just wanna be\nRight by your side\nOn any night that you be crying, baby\nI'll dry your eyes\nI'll dry your eyes\n\nEvery time you go to sleep you look like you in Heaven\nPlus the head game is stronger than a few Excedrin\nYou shine just like the patent leather on my new 11's\nYou read me like a book like I'm the Bible, you the Reverend\nYeah, I wanna tell the truth to you\nI wanna talk about my days as a youth to you\nExposing you to all my demons and the reasons I'm this way\nI would like to paint a picture, but it'll take more than a day\nIt would take more than some years to get all over all my fears\nPreventing me from letting you see all of me perfectly clear\nThe same wall that's stopping me from letting go and shedding tears\nFrom the lack of having father, and the passing of my peers\nWhile I'm too scared to expose myself\nIt turns out, you know me better than I know myself\nBetter than I know myself\nWell how 'bout that?\nYou might also like\nShe gets him (you get me)\nShe hugs him (you kiss me)\nYou tell me you miss me\nAnd I believe you, I believe you\nShe gets him (you get me)\nShe hugs him (you kiss me)\nYou tell me you miss me\nAnd I believe you, I believe you\nCatch me, don't you\u2014\nCatch me, don't you catch me\nI've fallen in love for the first time"}
{"text":"Are you doin' this work to facilitate growth or to become famous?\nWhich is more important?\nGetting\u2005or\u2005letting go?\nYou can\u2005do anything, anything you can do\u2005(You can do anything)\nYou can do anything, anything you can\u205fdo\u205f(You\u205fcan do anything)\n\nEverything\u205fcome back around\u205ffull circle\nWhy do lies sound pleasant, but the truth hurtful?\nEverybody gotta cry once in a while\nBut how long will it take 'fore you smile?\nThis is that come-back-to-life shit\nMy niggas pick me up and we gon' light the city up as if the sun had the night shift\nAnd paint the town red for my nigga found dead too soon\n\nYeah\nTo the left of that decimal, I need seven figures to play the joint\nTurn up your decibels, peep how I decimate a joint\nCheck out my projects like them workers that Section 8 appoints\nAnd you'll see how I flipped like exclamation points\nMy niggas shoot first as if they never played the point, more two guards\nEnough straps to fill four U-Hauls\nMore death than World War II caused\nAround these parts we pour the brown just to drown these thoughts\nOf black corpses in county morgues, Lord, those images hauntin'\nI ain't been asleep yet, it's ten in the mornin'\nI'm sendin' a warnin', a problem with me is like the BET Hip-Hop Awards\nI'm startin' to see you niggas don't want it\nI'm sick of this flauntin', from niggas I know for sure ain't got mo' dough than Cole\nTrash rappers, ass backwards, tryna go toe-to-toe\nWe laugh at ya, staff strapped up on top the totem pole to blast at ya\nBassmasters, look how they tote a pole\nGotta know the ropes and the protocol\nOr they gon' for sure blow your clothes half off like a promo code\nMade a lil' tune called \"Foldin Clothes,\" and a nigga still ain't known to fold under pressure\nWell, you know what Cole do\nMake a diamond, they just rhymin', me, I'm quotin' gold\nOne phone call get you canceled like a homophobe in this PC culture\nAddress me as the G.O.A.T. like they call Chief Keef Sosa\nIn my sectional like a fuckin' three-piece sofa\nI'm known as the chosen one\nAnother dead body lay frozen, that's how it go sometimes\nWhen niggas weighin' coke and not the pros and cons\nWell, I ain't with that sleepin' underground like a gopher, so I go for mines\nYou might also like\nEverything come back around full circle (Nigga, gotta go for mines)\nWhy do lies sound pleasant, but the truth hurtful? (Yeah)\nEverybody gotta cry once in a while\nBut how long will it take 'fore you smile?\nThis is that come-back-to-life shit\nMy niggas pick me up and we gon' light the city up as if the sun had the night shift\nAnd paint the town red for my nigga found dead too soon\nNow I know why they call it blue m\u2014 (Yeah)\n\nSurvival at all costs, every day, niggas get logged off\nBodies get hauled off\nPassin' a funeral procession while holdin' my breath in the car, I thought\nAt times, it be feelin' the devil be winnin' but do that mean God lost?\nJust got off the phone, my nigga, he back in the kennel, my dog lost\nI brought him 'round close to me before but he\nBecame addicted to clout and all the hoes we'd meet\nI slowly peeped jealousy on his breath whenever he spoke to me\nLike on the low, he feelin' that in my shoes is where he supposed to be\nI tried to ignore the signs, but they're in the back of my mind\nIt felt like lettin' a nigga come sleep on your couch and he eatin' up all yo' groceries\nMy nigga repeated this quote to me, I felt its potency\nSaid, \"Most of these niggas gon' hang they selves, just give 'em the rope and see\"\nShit, I heeded that, and what got showed to me\nWas screamin' that, some niggas, you gotta leave 'em back\nUnfortunately we seen the trap\nNiggas be on that demon clock resultantly\nThey fiend to clap as often as the Genius app misquotin' me, uh\nMeanwhile, I see that yo' diamonds is glistenin'\nI'm glad that you shinin', but need I remind you my niggas is dimin' and nickelin'?\nScrapin' up whatever coin they can find, the pettiest crime, they committin' it\nJust to get by for a limited time, the steepest of mountains, they tryin' to climb\nI'm here tryna find the derivative, you niggas don't feel me\nYou see the clout, you don't see the real me\nIf I was sick, you niggas wouldn't heal me\nTherefore I'm healin' myself, gettin' in tune with my God\nSlowly revealin' myself, buildin' my wealth\nA nigga touch mine, I'ma kill 'em myself, trust me\nEverything come back around full circle\nWhy do lies sound pleasant, but the truth hurtful?\nEverybody gotta cry once in a while\nBut how long will it take 'fore you smile?\nThis is that come-back-to-life shit\nMy niggas pick me up and we gon' light the city up as if the sun had the night shift\nAnd paint the town red for my nigga found dead too soon\nNow I know why they call it blue m\u2014 (Yeah)\n\nBitch, I'm back outside, nigga\nI'm back outside\nI'm back outside\nI'm back outside\nEverybody mentions suicide prevention\nMan, they even made a hotline\nTo call up when there's tension, but I got a question\nWhat about a fuckin' homicide?\nNeed a number for my niggas to call\nWhenever there's a urge to get triggers involved\nNeed a number for my niggas to call\nWhenever there's a urge to get triggers involved"}
{"text":"Yeah\nHey\n\nSpinning in circles, live my life without rehearsal\nIf I died today my nigga, was it business, was it personal?\nShould this be my last breath I'm blessed 'cause it was purposeful\nNever got to church to worship lord but please be merciful\nYou made me versatile, well-rounded like cursive\nKnow you chose me for a purpose, I put my soul in these verses\nBorn sinner, was never born to be perfect\nSucker for women licking they lips and holding these purses\nBack when we ran the streets who would think we'd grow to be murderers?\nTeachers treated niggas as if they totally worthless\nAnd violent, and hopeless, I saw but never noticed\nThat a college point is right to \"Be all that you can be\" posters, uh\nRest in peace to Tiffany, I don't know if\nThis the realest shit I wrote, but know the realest nigga wrote this\nAnd signed it, and sealed it in a envelope and knew one day you'll find it\nAnd knew one day you'd come back and rewind it, singing\n\nI'm a born sinner\nBut I'll die better than that, I swear\nYou were always where I needed you to be\nWhether you were there or not there (I was there)\nI was born sinning\nBut I live better than that (better than that)\nIf you ain't fucking with that, I don't care\n(Ooh, ooh, ooh) Yeah, yeah, yeah\nYou might also like\nYeah, this music shit is a gift\nBut God help us make it 'cause this music biz is a cliff\nI got her life in my grip, she holding tight to my wrist\nShe screaming, \"Don't let me slip\"\nShe see the tears in my eyes, I see the fear on her lips\nTrue when I told you, \"You the only reason why I don't flip\nAnd go insane,\" my roof in the pouring rain\nYou knew me before the fame, don't lose me the more I change, no\nJust grow with me, go broke you go broke with me\nI smoke you gon' smoke with me\nWoman's curse since birth, man lead her to the hearse\nI go Bobby, you go Whitney, damn\nListen here, I'll tell you my biggest fears\nYou the only one who knows 'em\nDon't you ever go expose 'em\nThis life is harder than you'll probably ever know\nEmotions I hardly ever show, more for you than for me\nDon't you worry yourself, I gotta do this for me\nThey tell me life is a test, but where's the tutor for me?\nPops came late, I'm already stuck in my ways\nDucking calls from my mother for days\nSometimes she hate the way she raised me but she love what she raised\nCan't wait to hand her these house keys with nothing to say\nExcept\nI'm a born sinner\nBut I'll die better than that, I swear\nYou were always where I needed you to be\nWhether you were there or not there (I was there)\nI was born sinning\nBut I live better than that (better than that)\nIf you ain't fucking with that, I don't care\n(Ooh, ooh, ooh) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nI'm a born sinner\nBut I'll die better than that, I swear\nYou were always where I needed you to be\nWhether you were there or not there (I was there)\nI was born sinning\nBut I live better than that (better than that)\nIf you ain't fucking with that, I don't care\n(Ooh, ooh, ooh) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nThis music shit is a gift"}
{"text":"Niggas be thinkin' I'm deep, intelligent, fooled by my college degree\nMy IQ is average, there's\u2005a\u2005young lady out\u2005there, she way smarter than me\nI\u2005scrolled through her timeline in these wild times, and I\u205fstarted\u205fto\u205fread\nShe mad at\u205fthese crackers, she\u205fmad at these capitalists, mad at these murder police\nShe mad at my niggas, she mad at our ignorance, she wear her heart on her sleeve\nShe mad at the celebrities, lowkey I be thinkin' she talkin' 'bout me\nNow I ain't no dummy to think I'm above criticism\nSo when I see something that's valid, I listen\nBut shit, it's something about the queen tone that's botherin' me\nShe strike me as somebody blessed enough to grow up in conscious environment\nWith parents that know 'bout the struggle for liberation and in turn they provide her with\nA perspective and awareness of the system and unfairness that afflicts 'em\nAnd the clearest understandin' of what we gotta do to get free\nAnd the frustration that fills her words seems to come from the fact that most people don't see\nJust 'cause you woke and I'm not, that shit ain't no reason to talk like you better than me\nHow you gon' lead, when you attackin' the very same niggas that really do need the shit that you sayin'?\nInstead of conveyin' you holier, come help us get up to speed\nShit, it's a reason it took like two hundred years for our ancestors just to get freed\nThese shackles be lockin' the mental way more than the physical\nI look at freedom like trees, can't grow a forest like overnight\nHit the ghetto and slowly start plantin' your seeds\nFuck is the point of you preaching your message to those that already believe what you believe?\nI'm on some \"Fuck a retweet,\" most people is sheep\nYou got all the answers but how you gon' reach?\nIf I could make one more suggestion respectfully\nI would say it's more effective to treat people like children\nUnderstandin' the time and love and patience that's needed to grow\nThis change is inevitable, but ain't none of us seen this before\nTherefore, we just gotta learn everything as we go\nI struggle with thoughts on the daily\nFeel like a slave that somehow done saved enough coins to buy his way up outta slavery\nThinkin' just maybe, in my pursuit to make life so much better for me and my babies\nI done betrayed the very same people that look at me like I'm some kind of a hero\nBecause of the zeros that's next to the commas\nBut look here, I promise I'm not who you think\nRan into this nigga outside of the store yesterday\nHe said something that had me like, \"Wait\"\nHe was like, \"Cole, 'preciate what you been doin', my nigga, that's real\"\nBut damn, why I feel faker than Snow on tha Bluff?\nWell, maybe 'cause deep down I know I ain't doin' enough\nYou might also like\nThe sun is shinin' today\nThe sun is shinin' today\nThe sun is shinin' today\n\nCan you walk with me?\nI hope we'll find the reason why we often sob, go on, cry\nPainful memories fuck up the vibe\nThough I be tryin' to let the time heal my mind\nI was once a child, I've gotten older\nStill, I know I'm just a boy in God's eyes\nFill me up with wisdom and some courage\nPlus endurance to survive, help mine thrive"}
{"text":"Baby, you summertime fine\nI let you get on top, I be the underline, I'm\nTryna get beside you like the number nine, dime\nYou fine as hell\nI guess I met you for a reason, only time can tell\nBut well, I'm wonderin' what type of shit you wantin'\nDo you like the finer things or you a simple woman?\nWould you drink with a nigga? Do you smoke weed?\nDon't be ashamed, it ain't no thing, I used to blow trees\nGettin' lifted, I quit but shit, I might get high with you\nIt's only fittin' 'cause I'm lookin' super fly with you\nA flower, you are powerful, you do somethin' to me\n'Cause girl, I caught the vibe like you threw somethin' to me\nSo I threw 'em back, now all my niggas hollerin', \u201cWho was that?\u201d\n\u201cOh boy, she bad nigga, what you 'bout to do with that?\u201d\nI'm finna take you home, just sip a little Patron\nNow we zonin', baby you so fine\n\nAnd can I hit it in the mornin'?\nCan I hit it in the mornin'?\nAnd can I hit it in the mornin'?\nThe Sun risin' while you moanin'\nAnd can I hit it in the mornin'?\nCan I hit it in the mornin'?\nAnd can I hit it in the mornin'?\nThe Sun risin' while you moanin'\nYou might also like\nUh, baby, you wintertime cold\nThe night is still young, drink that dinner wine slow\nI'm tryna make the goosebumps on your inner thigh show\nI'll let you beat me there as far as finish lines go\nYeah, and if you gotta leave for work\nI'll be right here in the same bed that you left me in\nI love thick women 'cause my aunt she rode equestrian\nI used to go to the stables and get them kids to bet me\nAnd I would always ride the stallions whenever she let me\nI'm jokin', I mean that thing is pokin'\nI mean you kinda like that girl that's in the US Open\nI mean I got this hidden agenda that you provokin'\nI got bath water that you can soak in, things I could do with lotion\nDon't need a towel, we could dry off in the covers\nAnd when you think you like it, I promise you gonna love it\nYeah, when lights comin' through the drapes and we both yawnin'\nI roll over and ask if I can hit it in the mornin'\n\nYeah, can I hit it in the mornin'?\nYeah, can I hit it in the mornin'?\nYeah, the Sun risin' while you moanin', baby\nCan I hit it in the mornin', uh?\nCan I hit it in the mornin', yeah?\nCan I hit it in the mornin'?\nThe Sun risin' while you moanin'\nHey, God bless the child that can hold his own\nGod bless the woman that can hold Patron\nGod bless her homegirl that drove us home\nNo strings attached like a cordless phone\nYou see my intentions with you was clear\nI'm learnin' not to judge a woman by the shit that she wear\nTherefore you shouldn't judge a nigga off the shit that you hear\nGet all defensive, apprehensive, all because my career\nTo be fair, I know we barely know each other and yeah\nSomehow I wound up in your bed so where we headed from here?\nJust say you're scared if you're scared\nBut if you through frontin', we can do somethin'\nAnd you know just what I'm talkin' about\nTomorrow you'll be callin' out\n'Cause tonight we gettin' right into the wee morn'\nCook a nigga breakfast after sex is like a reward\nThen I go my own way, you think about me all day\nThat's just a warnin'\n\nAnd can I hit it in the mornin'?\nCan I hit it in the mornin'?\nCan I hit it in the mornin'?\nThe Sun risin' while you moanin'\nCan I hit it in the mornin'?\nCan I hit it in the mornin'?\nAnd can I hit it in the mornin'?\nThe Sun risin' while you moanin', yeah"}
{"text":"I'm a livin' little good thing\nIt's like you never lived for me, yeah\nMama said you was a good thing, uh\nGood, good, good, yeah\nYeah\nWe came a long way, man, we done came a long way\nAnd we sittin' on top of this shit\nThis shit can go one of two ways\nThis shit can go up, it can go down\nEither way, nigga, I'm prepared\nFeel me? Yeah\n\nI be comin' in peace, but fuck me\nBest beware of the others\nThis shit deep, undercovers creep\nThis Southern heat make unbearable summers\nJust last week, seen yo' mama weep\nCrying 'cause she don't wan' bury your brother\nThe blood l\u0435aks while the EMTs\nGotta carry her baby lik\u0435 surrogate mothers\nWoah, thank God we survived around where the terrorists hovered\nThough traumatized, wouldn't trade it for nothin'\nThrough hard times, it was there I discovered\nA hustle and makin' the best out the struggle\nI kept grindin' 'til this day, up a level\nRespect mine, gotta stay out of trouble\n'Cause TEC-9s like to air out rebuttals\nCole World, niggas knowin' what it is\nJust in case they don't, I show 'em what it is\nThis summer, I do real numbers\nCouldn't dare touch it if they sold a double disc\nBlock hot, niggas burnin' up the street\nShots poppin' and we heard it up the street\nIt's a war, niggas runnin' up the score\nJesus said that you should turn the other cheek\nWas his niggas gettin' murdered every week?\nDead bodies, smell the odor in the street\nMy homie' homie got out on parole\nHe sold more Coca-Cola than the soda industry\nSummertime bring the coldest winter breeze\nHella blues like the Rollin' 60s\nChrist went to Heaven age thirty-three\nAnd so did Pimp C and so did Nipsey\nYou might also like\nI told you, I told you\nThis shit can go up, it can go down, I don't give a fuck\nNigga, I done seen the highest heights\nI done seen it twice\nAnd I've seen the lowest of the lows\nAnd still I rose\nNow I'm at your neck, nigga, yeah"}
{"text":"Yeah, we back\nBack in Mohammad crib, nigga, top floor\nThe back room with just the one little small window, nigga\nThe light be comin' through it in the morning\nOld-ass walls and shit\nBut it's just like I remember, just like I wanted it\nYeah, I'm workin'\nYeah, I'm workin', nigga\n\nLook, it's the return of the Mr. Burn Suckers\nNot herpes infested, just perfectly blessed with\nA style that you can't F with, protection recommended\n\u2018Cause Cole the definition of a weapon that can end it\nYou know, mass destruction when I mash the button\nI take your favorite major rapper, left him independent\nCryin' in the corner\n\u2018Cause I ain't into sorta kinda, dissin' niggas\nI'm borderline addicted to slaughter\nLine up niggas in order\nOf who you think can really fuck with me most\nThen I tuck the heat close, if he don't duck then he ghost\nAin't no need for discussion\nIf they weren't talkin' 'bout the bread these motherfuckers be toast\nClap at the fake deep rappers\nThe OG gatekeep rappers\nThe would-you-take-a-break-please rappers\nBunch of words and ain't sayin' shit, I hate these rappers\nEspecially the amateur eight week rappers\nLil' whatever \u2013 just another short bus rapper\nFake drug dealers turn tour bus trappers\nNapoleon complex, you this tall rappers\nGet exposed standin' next to 6'4\" rappers\nThe streets don't fuck with you, you Pitchfork rappers\nChosen by the white man, you hit store rappers\nI reload the clip, then I hit more rappers with that\nStraight shittin' on these piss-poor rappers, I'm back\nNever knew a nigga that was better\nRevenue, I'm good at gettin' cheddar\nReminisce on days I didn't eat\nIf it's meant to be, then it'll be\nIf it's not, then fuck it, I'ma try\nAin't no need to ask the Father why, no\n\u2018Cause one day everybody gotta die\nOne day everybody gotta die, oh\nOne day everybody gotta die\nOne day everybody gotta die, my nigga, my niggaYou might also like"}
{"text":"Uh-uh, uh-uh\nOne, two, one, two, one, two, one, two, yeah\nUh-uh, uh-uh\nOne, two, one, two, one, two, one, two, yeah\nUh\n\nBaby girl, I can't imagine what it's like for you\nI got you pregnant, now inside there is a life in you\nI know you wonderin' if this is gon' make me think 'bout wifin' you\nLike, if you have my first child\nWould I spend my whole life with you?\nNow, I ain't tryna pick a fight with you, I'm tryna talk\nNow, I ain't tryna spend the night with you, I'm kinda lost\nSee, I've been givin' it some thought lately\nAnd frankly, I feel like we ain't ready and this\u2014\nHold up now, let me finish!\nThink about it, baby, me and you, we still kids ourself\nHow we gonna raise a kid by ourself?\nHandle biz by ourself? A nigga barely over twenty\nWhere the hell we gon' live? Where am I gon' get that money?\nI refuse to bring my boy or my girl in this world\nWhen I ain't got shit to give 'em, and I'm not with them niggas\nWho be knockin' girls up and skate out\nSo, girl, you gotta think about how the options weigh out\nWhat's the way out?\nUh\nYou might also like\nAnd I ain't too proud to tell you\nThat I cry sometime, I cry sometimes about it\nAnd girl, I know it hurt, but if this world was perfect\nThen we could make it work, but I doubt it\nAnd I ain't too proud to tell you\nThat I cry sometime, I cry sometimes about it\nAnd girl, I know it hurt, but if this world was perfect\nThen we could make it work, but I doubt it\nShe said: \"Nigga, you got some nerve\nTo come up to me talkin' about abortion\nThis my body, nigga, so don't think you finna force shit!\nSee, I knew that this is how you act, so typical\nSaid you love me, oh, but now you flippin' like reciprocals\nIt figures though, I should've known\nThat you was just another nigga\nNo different from them other niggas\nWho be claimin' that they love you just to get up in them drawers\nKnowin' all the right things to say\nI let you hit it raw, mothafucka!\nNow I'm pregnant, you don't wanna get involved, mothafucka?\nTryna take away a life\u2014is you God, mothafucka?!\nI don't think so! This a new life up in my stomach\nRegardless if I'm your wife, this new life here, I'ma love it\nI ain't budgin', I just do this by my mothafuckin' self\nSee, my mama raised me without no mothafuckin' help\nFrom a man, but I still don't understand how you could say that\nDid you forget all those conversations that we had way back\n'Bout your father? And you told me that you hate that nigga\nTalkin' about he a coward and you so glad that you ain't that nigga\n\u2018Cause he left your mama when she had you and he ain't shit\nAnd here you go doin' the same shit\u2026 You ain't shit, nigga!\"\nAnd I ain't too proud to tell you\nThat I cry sometimes, I cry sometimes about it\nAnd boy, this shit hurts, and ain\u2019t nobody perfect\nStill, we can make it work, but you doubt it\nAnd I ain't too proud to tell you\nThat I cry sometimes, I cry sometimes about it\nAnd boy, this shit hurts, and ain\u2019t nobody perfect\nStill, we can make it work, but you doubt it\nThey say everything happens for a reason\nAnd people change like the seasons, then grow apart\nShe wanted him to show his heart and say he loved her\nHe spoke the magic words and on the same day he fucked her\nNow she wide open\nShe'd put a ring up on his finger if she could\nBut he loved her \u2018cause the pussy good\nBut she ain't no wife though\nUh-oh! She tellin' him she missed her period, like typos\nHe panickin', froze up like a mannequin, a life grows\nInside her, and now he askin': \"Is it even mine?\"\nWhat if this bitch ain't even pregnant? Dog, could she be lyin'?\nAnd she be cryin', \u2018cause he actin' distant\nLike, \"Ever since I told you this, nigga, you actin' different.\"\nAnd all his niggas sayin', \"Man, these hoes be trappin' niggas\nPlayin' with niggas' emotions like they some action figures.\"\nSwear they get pregnant for collateral, it's like extortion\nMan, if that bitch really pregnant, tell her to get a abortion (Uh)\nBut what about your seed, nigga? (Uh-uh)\nBut what about your seed, nigga?\nBut what about your seed, nigga?\nBut what about your seed, nigga?\nAnd I ain't too proud to tell you\nThat I cry sometime, I cry sometimes about it\nAnd I ain't too proud to tell you\nThat I cry sometime, I cry sometimes about it"}
{"text":"Bada-ba, bada-ba\nBada-ba, da-da\nOff-Season\nLet's work, hey\n\nPlottin' my escape, this game rot a nigga's faith\nGot a couple M's hidin' in the safe\nImagination turned a Honda into Wraith\nI was doin' eighty on the interstate\nTryna make it back before my class started\nCountry nigga never seen a passport\n'Til I popped off and got a bag for it\nNow I'm at the Garden sittin' half court\nWatchin' Jr. catch it off the backboard\n'Ville nigga never seen nothing\n'Cept a fucking triple beam jumping\nGood dope leave a fiend krumping\nMade it out, it gotta mean something\n\nEither you gon' hustle or that nigga Uncle Sam got yo' ass re-enlisting\n2-6, murder scene pumping\nBetter leave it tucked if you ain't dumping\nPow, pow, nigga, he slumping\nTwelve comin', we ain't seen nothing\nTime change, niggas ain't rumbling no more\nNah, what for? Hungry for more\nIf you solo these vocals, listen close and you can hear grumbling\nMulti' and I'm still munching\nBig bag, never fear fumbling\nWant smoke? Nigga don't choke\nI'm a whole fuckin' nicotine company\nDreamville the Army, not a Navy\nHow could you ever try to play me?\nKill 'em on a song, walk up out the booth, do the Westbrook rock-a-baby\nI never fall out with the bro\nHate when your family turn into foe\nWe had a penthouse on the road\nInterior decorated with the hoes\nJust like a multiple-choice getting chose\nMy niggas like \"Eenie, meenie, miney, moe\"\nScoop up a dime-piece like we homeless\nThen we gon' send 'em back pigeon-toed\nOut of the concrete was a rose and winters was cold\nHad to go over and stand by the stove\nWe from the Southeast, niggas know\nThis where the opps creep real slow\nWon't vote but they mob deep with the poles\nI punch the time sheet, not no more\nAnd now my assigned seat is the throne\nYou might also like\nPlottin' my escape, this game rot a nigga's faith\nGot a couple M's hidin' in the safe\nImagination turned a Honda into Wraith\nI was doin' eighty on the interstate\nTryna make it back before my class started\nCountry nigga never seen a passport\n'Til I popped off and got a bag for it\nNow I'm at the Garden sittin' half court\nWatchin' Jr. catch it off the backboard\n'Ville nigga never seen nothing\n'Cept a fucking triple beam jumping\nGood dope leave a fiend krumping\nMade it out, it gotta mean something\nMade it out, it gotta mean something\nMade it out, it gotta mean something\n\nBada-ba, bada-ba, bada-ba, ah-ah"}
{"text":"Fell in love through photograph\nI don't even know your name\nWonder if you'd follow back\nI hope to see you one day\nI won't show my niggas now\nI'II keep this one for myself\nLove today's gone digital\nAnd it's messing with my health\n\nYeah\nDamn, I love your sense of humor\nYou don't get caught up in rumors\nYou don't be talking 'bout who fuckin' who\nAnd I notice the way you maneuver\nSexy, but never show too much\nAin't heard from you in like two months\nAll of a sudden, you pop on my line\nYou could make time, stop on a dime\nI think you mastered the art of sublime\nYour type is harder to find\nYou could turn water to wine, yeah\nYou could turn water to wine, yeah\nI think you mastered the art of sublime\nYour type is harder to find\nYou could turn water to wine, yeah\nYou could turn water to wine, feel me\nYou might also like\nNiggas be talkin' so slick (ugh)\nI'm not the nigga for lip (yeah)\nPuttin' my heart in a click (yeah)\nCan't see my heart, it don't fit (yeah)\nDon't think I'm built for this shit (yeah)\nToo busy thinking what if (yeah)\nI shoot my shot and it brick (yeah)\nI shoot my shot and it brick (yeah)\nNiggas be talkin' so slick (yeah)\nI'm not the nigga for lip (yeah)\nPuttin' my heart in a click (yeah)\nCan't see my heart it don't fit (yeah)\nDon't think I'm built for this shit (yeah)\nToo busy thinking what if (yeah)\nI shoot my shot and it brick (yeah)\nI shoot my shot and it brick (mmm)\n\nFell in love through a photograph\nI don't even know your name\nWonder if you'd follow back\nI hope to see you one day\nI won't show my niggas now\nI'II keep this one for myself\nLove today's gone digital\nAnd it's messing with my health\nYeah\nFeel like I gotta say somethin'\nThought of you got my heart jumpin'\nBut I can't come up with nothin' (no)\nBut I can't come up with nothin'\nI put it off for a day\nI come back around your way\nSearching for what I could say\nThat accurately could convey\nThe way that I feel in the word\nThat's different than what you done heard\nSo many done hit you wit game\nSo many been sent to the curb\nAnd I did not come here to play\nAnd I did not come to observe\nAnd I did not come here to play\nBut I did not come to observe\nFeel me\n\nNiggas be talkin' so slick (ugh)\nI'm not the nigga for lip (yeah)\nPuttin' my heart in a click (yeah)\nCan't see my heart, it don't fit (yeah)\nDon't think I'm built for this shit (yeah)\nToo busy thinking what if (yeah)\nI shoot my shot and it brick (yeah)\nI shoot my shot and it brick (yeah)\nNiggas be talkin' so slick (yeah)\nI'm not the nigga for lip (yeah)\nPuttin' my heart in a click (yeah)\nCan't see my heart it don't fit (yeah)\nDon't think I'm built for this shit (yeah)\nToo busy thinking what if (yeah)\nI shoot my shot and it brick (yeah)\nI shoot my shot and it brick (mmm)\nFell in love through photograph\nI don't even know your name\nWonder if you'd follow back\nI hope to see you one day\nI won't show my niggas now\nI'II keep this one for myself\nLove today's gone digital\nAnd it's messing with my health"}
{"text":"Married men act totally different when they're by themselves, don't they? You see 'em with their wife, \"What's up Tony?\" \"Hey man, how's everything going brother? Oh, just taking it easy, hanging out with the old lady. Alright, God bless you, take it easy now, alright.\" You be like that nigga ain't like that\nYou see him by himself, \"What's up Tony?\" \"Hey, where's the bitches at, nigga?! Where's the bitches?!\"\n\nYeah\nGimme my space, Lord, ain't enough time to chase\nAll these dreams, nah mean? I got no time to wait\nLove my girl, but I told her straight up, \"Don't wait up\"\nStumble home late, I'm drunk, we fucked and made up\nUsed to living free as a bird, but now I'm laid up\nFeelin' like a nigga got handcuffs on\nHow the fuck did my life become a damn love song?\nShe ride for a nigga and she stand up for him\nBut a nigga wan' be a nigga, be a nigga\nRide through the streets with freaks and real niggas\nShe'll never understand what it's like to be a man\nKnowin' when you look inside yourself you see a nigga\nAnd you don't wan' let her down\nBut you too young for the settle down\nAnd maybe you can thug it out, learn what is love about\nWhen you can't live with her and you can't live without\nAw shit, goddamn, I think the devil got his hands on me\nStripper saying, \"Baby, won't you throw them bands on me?\"\nAnd I came to spend\nShe pop a molly, let the motherfuckin' games begin\nI'm running away\nYou might also like\nRunaway, runaway\nRunaway, runaway\nI'm holdin' on\nDesperately\nRunaway, runaway\nRunaway, runaway\nI'm holdin' on\nWhen it's all said and done everybody dies\nIn this life ain't no happy endings\nOnly pure beginnings followed by years of sinning and fake repentance\nThe preacher say we were made in image of Lord\nTo which I replied: \"Are you sure?\nEven a murderer? Even a whore?\nEven a nigga running through bitches on tour\nWith a good girl at home folding clothes and shit?\"\nShe losin' faith in him and he knows the shit, like, \"What the fuck is a break?\nDon't know how much I can take no more\nI give you all I got 'til it ain't no more\nNo more tears, it's been ten long years\nDamn near, I don't know if I can wait no more\"\nAnd who can blame her, you complain about\nEvery time you out, you come back she poutin'\nSleeping back to back, this is wack, we 'bout\nTo go platinum and I'm in the crib acting out\nMy childhood fantasies of wife and home\nBut it's a whole lot of actresses I'd like to bone\nAnd despite the rumors you hold out\nOn account of your guilt and she has got to spend her nights alone\nAnd she ride or die like Eve and 'em\nMake home-cooked meals every evenin'\nAnd even in your lowest days\nWhen you're no longer Superman, at least you know you got Lois Lane\nBut you\nRunaway, runaway\nRunaway, runaway\nI'm holdin' on\nDesperately\nRunaway, runaway\nRunaway, runaway\nI'm holdin' on\nYeah\nUnbelievable, seen evil that not even Knievel know\nAt age three I knew this world was three below\nListen, even though my ego low, achieved the unachievable\nImagine if my confidence was halfway decent yo\nThis just in, fucked more bitches than Bieber though\nStill I keep it low, got my niggas on the need to know\nBasis, my manager back in the days was racist\nI was a young boy, passing skates and tucking laces\nOld perverted white man who told me, \"Jermaine\nIt's all pink on the inside, fuck what color they face is\"\nWise words from an indecent man\nMade me reflect on the times when we was three-fifths of them\nIn chains and powerless, brave souls reduced to cowardice\nSlaving in the baking sun for hours just\nTo see the master creep into the shack where your lady at\nNine months later got a baby, that's\nNot quite what you expected, but you\nRefuse to neglect it, 'cause you\nKnow your wifey loves you, thus you refuse to accept it\nThat\u2019s the type of shit that turned my granny light-skinned\nRich white men rule the nation still\nOnly difference is we all slaves now, the chains concealed\nIn our thoughts, if I follow my heart to save myself\nCould I run away from fifty-mill like Dave Chappelle?\nYou know\nRunaway, runaway\nRunaway, runaway\nI'm holdin' on\nDesperately\nRunaway, runaway\nRunaway, runaway\nI'm holdin' on"}
{"text":"Yeah, uh-huh\n\nThis the shit I used to roll down Lewis Street with\nLord, know some hoes from the past\nLike, \"Damn Cole, wish I knew that you would be rich\"\nWell, shoulda asked\nIt's funny how these niggas on some real \"be cool with me\" shit\nI bag two bitches like it's two of me, bitch\nThis the shit I used to roll down Lewis Street with\nFinally got my own bedroom in this bitch\nNo more sleeping in my brother room\nLike, \"Man, I might as well be sleeping in my mother room\"\n'Cause how I'm supposed to sneak hoes with my bro here?\nPlus she gon' find out I been rocking all his old gear\nThis his flow here, this is no fair, this is so pure\nThis is so clear, this is one breath, this is no air\nAin't no wedding but I do the most here\nI'm the President, you the co-chair\nYou the player, yeah, I'm the coach here, nigga, I coast here\nThis weather got me set up on this West Coast, yeah\nAvoidin' the snakes, AKs, and coke, yeah\nGet my dick wet, but I never let it soak there\nMan, I been thinkin' 'bout movin' out\nWhat? Country boy in the city\nOf New York nine years, ran that shit like Diddy\nRiding through South Side Queens like Fiddy\nYou might also like\nNothing's impossible\nAnd all you lame niggas show me what not to do\nI met a real bad bitch in the club tonight\nShe told me, \"Watch the snakes 'cause they watching you\"\nI told her, \"Awww baby don't start!\nI ain't looking for the way to your heart!\"\nShe said, \"You 'bout to miss church\" while she riding me\nI like my sundaes with a cherry on top\nMake that ass drop (drop, drop)\nHey make that ass drop (drop, drop)\nHey make that ass drop (drop, drop)\nHey make that ass drop (drop, drop, drop)\n\nNow if you only had one wish is it devious?\n'Cause you already know who your genie is\nAin't get a cover now your mag on my penis\nLike damn, he turned out to be a genius\nDamn, real shit nigga, no Pixar\nYou niggas soft like Meagan Good's lips are\nMy kicks hard, my whip hard\nI came out the womb with my dick hard\nBack when I was playing Stomp the Yard\nIt'd be a bunch of niggas up on campus talking hard\nDon't get exposed to these hoes boy, knock it off\nI seen your mama in the Benz when she dropped you off\nDamn, now who more thorough than me?\nI paint a picture of my pain for the world to see\nCould paint a picture of the game but my girl would see\nGotta ask myself, \"What mean the world to me?\"\nMe, me\nNothing's impossible\nAnd all you lame niggas show me what not to do\nI met a real bad bitch in the club tonight\nShe told me, \"Watch the snakes 'cause they watching you\"\nI told her, \"Aw baby don't start!\nI ain't looking for the way to your heart!\"\nShe said, \"You bout to miss church\" while she riding me\nI like my sundaes with a cherry on top\nMake that ass drop (drop, drop)\nMake that ass drop\nHey make that ass drop (drop, drop)\nMake that ass drop\nHey make that ass drop (drop, drop)\nMake that ass drop\nHey make that ass drop\nMake that ass drop\n\nMake, hey, make that ass drop (Drop)\nHey, you seen me in this every damn day (Drop)\nIt got the dick hard as a rock (Drop)\nAnd I can't control (Let it ride)\nHehe, control\n\nThis the shit I used to roll down Lewis Street wit'\nYeah\nThis the shit I used to roll down Lewis Street wit'\nA little Fayettenam nigga out in Beverly Hills\nThat's when I ran into this chick I went to college with\nYeah, back when a nigga was on scholarship\nWas in a rush, but I still stopped to holla, shit\nThat's the least I owed her 'cause see I tried to hit\nOn the first night, and nah, I ain't proud of it\nI boned her in my dorm room and kicked her out of it, huh\nAnd I never called back, how thoughtfulless\nNow I'm standing in the streets tryna politic with her\nIn her mind she calling me a misogynist, nigga\nOn some Bobby Brown shit, my prerogative, nigga\nIs to hit and never commit\nNot realizing when I hit she never forgets\nSo every time I ignore the telephone call\nSaying I'll hit her back knowing I'm never gon' call, she was hurtin'\nNow she's staring dead in my face, she was smirking\nLike, \"Yeah, I remember and nah you ain't worth shit, nigga\nYou ain't worth shit, nigga\"\nHm, this the shit I used to roll down Lewis Street with"}
{"text":"Killa, it's The Off-Season\nLet's keep it tall, y'all ain't fuckin' with my man\nAnd don't check your watch, you know the time\nCole World, Killa Cam', niggas is fuckin' finished (Yeah)\n\nThis shit too easy for me now\nNigga, Cole been goin' plat' since back when CDs was around\nWhat you sold, I tripled that, I can't believe these fuckin' clowns\nLook how everybody clappin' when your thirty-song album do a measly hundred thou'\nIf I'm bettin' on myself, then I completely double down\nIf you hated on a nigga, please don't greet me with a pound\nI be stayin' out the way, but if the beef do come around\nCould put a M right on your head, you Luigi brother now\nTrace my steps all in this game, you could see we cover ground\nBack and forth from NC to New York when Jeezy had the crown\nVivid memories, niggas start to squeeze, we duckin' down\nSo many shells left on the ground, it make the Easter Bunny proud\nI get up, dust my clothes off, sleep is the cousin of death\nNo plans to doze off, the streets, it don't come with a ref'\nI never sold soft, just creeped where the hustlers crept\nAnd got they O's off, you reach, niggas uppin' like Steph\nTo blow your nose off, gesundheit, and then resume flight\nAs if it never happened, shit we witnessed full of so much sickness\nAngels sheddin' tears in Heaven, word to Eric Clapton\nOff this clever rappin', bitch, my pockets gon' forever fatten\nYou might also like\nThey gon' forever fatten\nSee, we tried to tell niggas\nThey act like they don't even fuckin' speak English\n\nBitch, my pen to the paper's lethal\nI'm sendin' 'em straight to meet the\nThe nigga that made them, peep the reaper\nCreepin' on ya, the scent of failure reekin' on ya\nCheck your genitalia, pussy-niggas bleedin' on yourself\nFuckin' with Cole is bold, but it's impedin' on your health\nAll yo' niggas eatin' off your wealth\nAll my niggas feedin' all they selves, and it feels swell\nKrispy Kreme dreams, sometime my dawgs wanna kill 12 (Uh)\n'Cause they steady harassin'\nWe seen dilemmas like Nelly and Kelly that end in the deadliest fashion\nMy young niggas nutty, they blastin'\nBullets be hummin' like Cudi but one of yo' hoodies Spaghetti-O splashin'\nAll over the driveway, y'all talkin' all sideways\nShots poppin' off, y'all laid down\nCops chalkin' off y'all legs now\n(Shit) God watchin', \"Hey, Yahweh\"\nMy niggas looked up to the sky like we sendin' 'em y'all way (Y'all way)\nWe sendin' 'em y'all way (Y'all way)\nThat's what the fuck I'm talkin' 'bout\nY'all see what the fuck goin' on out here (Killa, Harlem)\nI-95 shit, Carolina, 2-6, stand up, nigga\nPut your hood up\nPut your hood up\nPut your hood up\nPut your hood up\nPut your clique up\nPut your clique up\nPut your clique up\nPut your clique up\nRepresent your shit, motherfucker\nRepresent your shit, motherfucker\nRepresent your clique, motherfucker\nRepresent your clique, motherfucker\nIf you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the club\nIf you scared to throw it up, get the fuck out the club"}
{"text":"Cole World\nSouthside\nCan\u2019t get enough, can\u2019t get enough\nEastside, Westside, worldwide, ride out\n\nNow, I ain\u2019t got no kids yet, but this right here\u2019s for practice\nI hate to get the seats in the Benz wet, but that\u2019s how good your ass is\nMake an old man get his glasses, make Wesley pay his taxes\nThen follow your moves all week on Twitter, pro'bly make a gay nigga reconsider\nYou're now rockin' with the best, mane, dress game down to the sex game\nWon\u2019t brag, but the boy been blessed, mane, let you play with the stick; Ovechkin\nShe callin', she textin', she\u2019s fallin', but let me explain\nGotta tell your old boyfriend skate, girl, \u2018cause a nigga don\u2019t play them ex games\nNope! Straight sexing, no handcuff or arresting\nAnd I ain\u2019t coming off of my last name, \u2018cause I really can\u2019t take no stressing\n'Bout where I done been, who I done hit, your homegirl saying, \u201cHe a bad boy.\u201d\nBut I\u2019m signed to the Roc, no time for the gossip, bitch, put down them tabloids!\n\nShe said\n\u201cI heard you got a main chick, a mistress and some hoes\nYou be up to no good and everybody knows\nMy homegirls tried to warn me, they tried to let me know\nBut what you got I need a lot, so I can\u2019t let you go.\u201d\nYou might also like\nShe said, \u201cI can\u2019t get enough, can\u2019t get enough\u201d (I need that)\n\u201cI can\u2019t get enough, can\u2019t get enough\u201d (I need that)\n\u201cI can\u2019t get enough of what you got, good God, you hit the spot\nTry to let go but I just cannot, so don\u2019t you stop, I need that.\u201d\n\nHey\nGlobetrotter, Cole hotter, even way out in London town\nHoes holla, \u2019cause they love my sound and I got love for the underground\nKweli, Pimp C, H-Town where Bun get down\nMet a bad bitch that\u2019ll cut all night, that\u2019ll suck all night, you just cut off lights\nAlmost missed my flight, tryna get my last little nut, all right?\nShe be down for whatever whenever I wanna get up in the guts, all right?\nNever fuss or fight, on the grind, tryna find this lettuce\nI love it when you give me head, I hate it when you give me headaches\n\nShe said\n\u201cI heard you got a main chick, a mistress and some hoes\nYou be up to no good and everybody knows\nMy homegirls tried to warn me, they tried to let me know\nBut what you got I need a lot, so I can\u2019t let you go.\u201d\n\nShe said, \u201cI can\u2019t get enough, can\u2019t get enough\u201d (I need that)\n\u201cI can\u2019t get enough, can\u2019t get enough\u201d (I need that)\n\u201cI can\u2019t get enough of what you got, good God, you hit the spot\nTry to let go but I just cannot, so don\u2019t you stop, I need that.\u201d\nHey, Cole World, baby, ain\u2019t nothin' sunny, I see \u2018em hating, but it ain\u2019t nuttin' to me\nI\u2019m from the Ville where they bang for the money and carry fo\u2019-fives, like change for a twenty\nSo what I look like, scurred? Them niggas over there look like nerds\nNever mind that, girl, let\u2019s make a track, I\u2019ll beat the pussy up, that\u2019s the hook right thurr\nThat\u2019s the hook right thurr! That's the hook right thurr!\nNever mind that, girl, let\u2019s make a track, I\u2019ll beat the pussy up, that\u2019s the hook right thurr\n\nShe said\n\u201cI heard you got a main chick, a mistress and some hoes\nYou be up to no good and everybody knows\nMy homegirls tried to warn me, they tried to let me know\nBut what you got I need a lot, so I can\u2019t let you go.\u201d\n\nShe said, \u201cI can\u2019t get enough, can\u2019t get enough\u201d (I need that)\n\u201cI can\u2019t get enough, can\u2019t get enough\u201d (I need that)\n\u201cI can\u2019t get enough of what you got, good God, you hit the spot\nTry to let go but I just cannot, so don\u2019t you stop, I need that.\u201d"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsSparks Will Fly Lyrics\n\nIt may seem like our fire\nHas been a little burnt out, we're tired\nWe only need to stay close, in time\nSparks will fly\nAnd we fly too, and we, and we\nAnd we fly too\nIt may seem like our fire\nHas been a little burnt out, we're tired\nWe only need to stay close, in time\nSparks will fly\nAnd we fly too, and we, and we\nAnd we fly too\n\nBaby you deserve the whole enchilada\nGucci and Prada\nToast to the days when I didn't have a dollar\nYou stuck around even when the world frowned on me\nKicked me when I was down, and so they clowned on me\nDown for me, my homie\nYou better believe, I know your home girl said you should leave a note\nKnow you was tired like the Michelin man\nWhat if Gina would have listened to Pam?\nNow they hate to see us last this long\nWhen they get my album, probably pass this song\nThought they knew me well\nMoney can't buy you happiness that's true as hell\nBut happiness can't buy yo' ass this new SL\nI love you like the fat kid loves cakes and shit\nI love you like the bad kid love breakin' shit\nRide or die chick, fighting insecurities\nWant a ring and my last name for securities\nYou might also like\nIt may seem like our fire\nHas been a little burnt out, we're tired\nWe only need to stay close, in time\nSparks will fly\nAnd we fly too, and we, and we\nAnd we fly too\nIt may seem like our fire\nHas been a little burnt out, we're tired\nWe only need to stay close, in time\nSparks will fly\nAnd we fly too, and we, and we\nAnd we fly too\n\nI know my style ain't perfect\nI know my smile ain't perfect\nNigga ain't perfect, it's true\nFunny though I am perfect for you\nAll the drama seem worth it for you\nShe put up with the shit like she work at the zoo, true\nNow what you crying for?\nShe says you ain't gon' settle down, what you lyin' for?\nShe want that old thing back\nThings ain't the same, think we both seen that\nLove is war, end up on the floor\nBut baby you only lose when you don't swing back\nI say those words hoping that\nYou fight for a nigga like I fight for you\nLike I fight temptations every night for you\nAnd know I slip, only girl in my life is you\nIt may seem like our fire\nHas been a little burnt out, we're tired\nWe only need to stay close, in time\nSparks will fly\nAnd we fly too, and we, and we\nAnd we fly too\nIt may seem like our fire\nHas been a little burnt out, we're tired\nWe only need to stay close, in time\nSparks will fly\nAnd we fly too, and we, and we\nAnd we fly too\n\nFeels as though our world's crashing down\nWe can\u2019t forget to breathe through this now\nWe live through the ups and the downs\nIt\u2019ll get better\n\nIt may seem like our fire\nHas been a little burnt out, we're tired\nWe only need to stay close, in time\nSparks will fly"}
{"text":"Cop another bag and smoke today\nCop another bag and smoke today\nCop another bag and smoke today\nCop another bag and smoke today\nCop another bag and smoke today\nCop another bag and smoke today\nCop another bag and smoke today\nCop another bag and smoke today\n\nI got thoughts, can't control\nGot me down, got me low\nRest my mind, rest my soul\nWhen I blow, when I blow\nAm I wrong, let them know\nFeels so right to let things go\nDon't think twice, this is me\nThis is how I should be\n\nBut I'm aggravated without it\nMy saddest days are without it\nMy Saturdays are the loudest\nI'm blowing strong\nSome niggas graduated to powder\nI dabble later, I doubt it\nMy database of narcotics\nIt's growing long\nBut I'm aggravated without it\nMy saddest days are without it\nMy Saturdays are the loudest\nI'm blowing strong\nSome niggas graduated to powder\nI dabble later, I doubt it\nMy database of narcotics\nIt's growing long\nYou might also like\nI wrote this shit to talk about the word addiction\nTo my niggas --- I hope you listening\n--- and ---, I hope you listening\nThis is for the whole fucking Ville, I hope you're listening\nSmoking medical grade, but I ain't got prescription\nAll the way in Cali where they ain't got precipi-\n-tation, feeling like the only one that made it\nAnd I hate it for my niggas 'cause they ain't got ambition\nFuck did you expect, you can blame it on condition\nBlame it on crack, you can blame it on the system\nBlame it on the fact that 12 got jurisdiction\nTo ride around in neighborhoods that they ain't ever lived in\nBlame it on the strain that you feel when daddy missing\nBlame it on Trump shit, blame it on Clinton\nBlame it on trap music and the politicians\nOr the fact that every black boy wanna be Pippen\nBut they only got 12 slots on the Pistons\nBlame it on the rain, Milli Vanilli with the disk skip\nWhat I'm tryna say is the blame can go deep as seas\nJust to blame 'em all I would need like twenty CD's\nThere's all sorts of trauma from drama that children see\nType of shit that normally would call for therapy\nBut you know just how it go in our community\nKeep that shit inside it don't matter how hard it be\nFast forward, them kids is grown and they blowing trees\nAnd popping pills due to chronic anxiety\nI been saw the problem but stay silent 'cause I ain't Jesus\nThis ain't no trial if you desire go higher please\nBut fuck that now I'm older I love you 'cause you my friend\nWithout the drugs I want you be comfortable in your skin\nI know you so I know you still keep a lot of shit in\nYou running from yourself and you buying product again\nI know you say it helps and no I'm not trying to offend\nBut I know depression and drug addiction don't blend\nReality distorts and then you get lost in the wind\nAnd I done seen the combo take niggas off the deep end\nOne thing about your demons they bound to catch up one day\nI'd rather see you stand up and face them than run away\nI understand this message is not the coolest to say\nBut if you down to try it I know of a better way\nMeditate\nMeditate, meditate, meditate, meditate\nDon't medicate, medicate, don't medicate, medicate\nMeditate, meditate, meditate, meditate\nDon't medicate, medicate, don't medicate, medicate\n\nI got thoughts, can't control\nGot me down, got me low\nRest my mind, rest my soul\nWhen I blow, when I blow\nAm I wrong, let them know\nFeels so right to let things go\nDon't think twice, this is me\nThis is how I should be\n\nCop another bag of smoke today\nCop another bag of smoke today\nCop another bag of smoke today\nCop another bag of smoke today\nCop another bag of smoke today\nCop another bag of smoke today\nCop another bag of smoke today\nCop another bag of smoke today"}
{"text":"Catch me, don't you\nCatch me, don't you\nCatch me, I've fallen in love for the first time\n\nFor you I drop the tough guy shit, on this bus I sit\nThinking 'bout you, thinking 'bout you\nThinking 'bout you, thinking 'bout you\nThinking 'bout you, thinking 'bout you\nThinking 'bout you, thinking 'bout you\nDamn it feel good to have you\nDamn it feel good to have you\nDamn it feel good to have you\nDamn it feel good to have you\n\nNeedin' me, wantin' me, givin' me a chance to feel special\nTo somebody in a world where they not lovin' me\nHandcuffs keep huggin' the, wrists of my niggas\nAnd I wish stuff was different here\nBut if I had a magic wand to make the evil disappear\nThat means that there would be no Santa Claus no more\nTo bring you Christmas cheer\n'Cause what he represents is really greed\nAnd the need to purchase shit from corporations\nThat make a killin' because they feed\nOn the wallets of the poor who be knockin' on they door\nEvery Black Friday just to get some shit they can't afford\nEven with the discount, write a check, that shit bounce\nBut as long as we got credit, it don't matter, the amount\nWe just swipin' shit here, we don't love, we just likin' shit here\nWhat's that smell? Where's your diaper shit here?\nLay on your back, don't pee right now\nOr else I'll have to get you back\nOne day when you gon' want to get your way\nYeah I'll have fun with that\nReminisce when you came out the womb\nTears of joy I think filled up the room\nYou are now the reason that I fight\nI ain't never did nothing this right in my whole life\nGot me thinking...\nYou might also like\nAm I worthy of this gift?\nAm I strong enough to lift? (Am I strong enough to lift?)\nInto a place that I can see (Into a place that I can see)\nSomeone more important than me? (Someone more important than me?)\nAm I worthy of this gift? (Am I worthy of this gift?)\nAm I strong enough to lift (Am I strong enough to lift)\nInto a place that I can see (Into a place that I can see)\nSomeone more important than me? (Someone more important than me?)\n\nIb gon' ask me how I did this shit\nI'm gon' do a humble stunt act like I meant this shit\nThats the ego taking credit for what God made\nFuck this album shit, hey mama look what God made\n(She's mine) Catch me, don't you\n(She's mine) Catch me, don't you\n(She's mine) Catch me\nI've fallen in love for the first time\nI wanna cry, and I ain't even tryna fight it\nDon't wanna die, 'cause now you're here\nAnd I just wanna be right by your side\nOn any night that you be cryin', baby\nI dry your eyes, I dry your eyes\n\nThere is a God, it is a God\nYeah, it is a God\nI never felt so alive\nI never felt so alive\nI never felt so alive\n(I never felt so alive)\nI never felt so alive\n(I never felt so alive)\nCatch me, don't you\u2014\nCatch me, don't you\u2014\nCatch me, I've fallen in love for the first time"}
{"text":"\nYeah\nTen toes to the ground\nYeah\n\nLet's get the proceedings proceeding this evening\nNo Promethazine I\u2019m a king, no leaning\nI got a better way to fight these demons\nFuck do you know \u2018bout my pain? blaow\nLet's get the proceedings proceeding this evening\nNo Promethazine I\u2019m a king, no leaning\nI got a better way to fight them demons\nFuck do you know \u2018bout my pain?\n\nIf I quote it nigga, I wrote it nigga\nSix head shots, I\u2019ll erode a nigga\nPop another clip and I'm reloaded nigga\nAin\u2019t no way around it, I\u2019m the coldest nigga\nDo a nigga dirty life's a coal, my nigga\nGet you cleaned up then I fold you nigga\nShout out to the haters who promote a nigga\nFlow hot, whip cold, I\u2019m bipolar nigga\nBut I don\u2019t like to talk about a Rover nigga\nKeep this shit a hundred, I just sold it nigga\nTired of police looking at me like I stole it nigga\nProbably just gonna cop a lil Corolla nigga\nDon\u2019t need a rollie on to know I\u2019m getting older nigga\nDreamville going way up like a floater nigga\nCouple hands out like I owe them niggas\nWhere was you when the Civic was getting towed my nigga?\nNo snakes in the grass cause I mowed it nigga\nYou might also like\nFuck do you know \u2018bout my pain?\n(Right there let me get that there\nTalk about it)\nFuck do you know \u2018bout my dreams?\n(Talk about it)\nNada\n(If you really believe it, ain't gotta talk about it\nYou heard about what happens when you talk about it\nNiggas lookin\u2019 at you funny when they start to doubt it\nFucking up your energy when you start to doubt it too)\nRollercoaster ride\n(Start to doubt it too)\nHow much do it cost?\n(Start to doubt it)\nIf I take a ride, fuck around get lost\n(Shoutout my nigga Ib)\nRollercoaster ride, how much do it cost?\n(El Presidente and shit)\n(He want me to talk my shit for y'all)\nIf I take a ride, fuck around get lost\n\nCole world you should stay off this dick\nI sold out the Garden, I should play for the Knicks\nTook a couple minutes and I sold out Staples\nA nigga getting cream like an old ass Laker\nBut I ain\u2019t coming to talk about all that paper\nThat\u2019s what they talk about when they ain\u2019t got shit to say\nCan\u2019t understand why niggas never got shit to do\nYou know the saying, same shit nigga, different day\nI never felt that, no way\nCause on the same day a nigga doing different shit\nSpit different flows hit different chicks\nLet my Brixton hoes feed me fish and chips\nWhy I do a lot of shows? I\u2019m the shit, that\u2019s it\nGot suicidal doors, I just slit my wrists\nNever stingy with the hoes word to Cliff and Chris\nSo if I fuck six bitches I got six assists nigga\nThe flow sick as shit, catch ebola if you bit this shit\nI never take, I invent the shit then flip the shit\nThen lick the shit, and bit the shit back twice, I\u2019m that nice, woo\nWhat\u2019s the plan?\nCole keeps snapping like a Mustard jam\nGot a middle finger for Uncle Sam\nI done paid so much taxes I can fund Japan\nBut instead they make a young nigga fund the man\nSame man that keep a young nigga under, damn\nI just cocked back nigga and my gun don\u2019t jam\nOn a scale from one to ten I\u2019m a hundred grand\nIt's Cole fuckin\u2019 world nigga\nDreamville in this motherfucker, Top Dawg in this motherfucker\n\"When you and K. Dot shit drop?\"\nBitch never, they can\u2019t handle two Black niggas this clever\nBut this February, bet shit get scary when I fuck around and drop...\n(Censor Tone)"}
{"text":"I know Heaven is a mind state, I've been a couple times\nStuck in my ways so I keep on falling down\nKeep on fallin' down\nKeep on fallin' down\nI know Heaven is a mind state, I've been a couple times\nStuck in my ways so I keep on falling down\nKeep on falling down\nKeep on falling down\nYeah\n\nGimme drink, gimme smoke\nGet me high, let me float\nI'm a cloud, comin' down\nPut me down, gentle now\nGimme drink, gimme dope\nBottom line, I can't cope\nIf I die, I don't know\nI don't know, I don't know\nGimme drink, gimme smoke\nGet me high, let me float\nI'm a cloud, comin' down\nPut me down, gentle now\nGimme drink, gimme dope\nBottom line, I can't cope\nIf I die, I don't know\nI don't know, I don't know\nYou might also like\nYeah, I got some niggas that still owe me an apology\nI'ma be the bigger man just like I always be\nEventually but right now that's hard for me\nI'm dreaming violent, I can't tolerate disloyalty\nSo I'ma see you when I see you, know that day comin'\nI pray that on that day you slip and say something\nI never fantasize 'bout murder 'cause I'm still sane\nBut I can't seem to fight this urge to make you feel pain\nI know that vengeance is the Lord's and it's not for me\nI know the punishment for you is that you not with me\nYou place your value on the bitches that you got with me\nAnd now the bitches ask you daily \"Why you not with me?\"\nI had to cut some people off 'cause they was using me\nMy heart is big, I want to give too much and usually\nI send the bread and don't hear back for like two months now\nYou hit my phone, you need a loan, oh I'm a crutch now\nI had to learn, I never had shit\nYou never would split, you was hood rich\nI couldn't get a dollar from you I remember that\nIt was blurry for a while but now it's coming back (coming back)\n\nTime will tell who is on my side\n(Time will tell just who is on my side)\nI mean well but I can't stop my pride\n(I mean well but I can't stop my pride)\nGimme drink, gimme smoke\nGet me high, let me float\nI'm a cloud, comin' down\nPut me down, gentle now\nGimme drink, gimme dope\nBottom line, I can't cope\nIf I die, I don't know\nI don't know, I don't know\nGimme drink, gimme smoke\nGet me high, let me float\nI'm a cloud, comin' down\nPut me down, gentle now\nGimme drink, gimme dope\nBottom line, I can't cope\nIf I die, I don't know\nI don't know, I don't know\n\nKeep on fallin' down\nKeep on fallin' down\nKeep on fallin' down\nI know Heaven is a mind state, I've been a couple times\nStuck in my ways so I keep on fallin' down\nKeep on fallin' down, yeah\nTime will tell who is on my side\n(Time will tell just who is on my side)\nI mean well but I can't stop my pride\n(I mean well but I can't stop my pride)\n\nGimme drink, gimme smoke\nGet me high, let me float\nI'm a cloud, comin' down\nPut me down, gentle now\nGimme drink, gimme dope\nBottom line, I can't cope\nIf I die, I don't know\nI don't know, I don't know\nGimme drink, gimme smoke\nGet me high, let me float\nI'm a cloud, comin' down\nPut me down, gentle now\nGimme drink, gimme dope\nBottom line, I can't cope\nIf I die, I don't know\nI don't know, I don't know"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsTrouble Lyrics\n(I said) Set it off on my left, set it off on my right\n(I said) Liquor all on my breath, bitches all in my sight\n(I said) Real niggas tryna fuck, fuck niggas wanna fight\n(I said) Gun shots into the air, but I ain't scared for my life\n(I said)\n\nTroubles of this, troubles of this world\nTroubles of this, troubles of this world\n\nYeah, god flow\nPaint a picture like a young Pablo, Picasso\nNiggas say \"Live fast, die young,\" so I drive slow\nAnd pray I die old\nIn the drop with the top low\nMet a bad bitch from Chicago, my hat wasn't cocked, yo\nKept it straight, shit, cause y'all know\nAnd if not, you'll learn how them niggas in the Chi go\nI ain't fuck her, but I'm thinking 'bout it\nMy niggas say why you gotta think about it?\nThe bitch want too much, hit my phone too much\nIf I gotta be frank about it\nAin't worth the stress\nFirst the text, then the draws, see first is sex\nThen it's calls cause the bird's obsessed\nWant flowers, cards, and the purses next\nNah, bitch can't get a dollar\nCole on Twitter, bitch can't get a follow\nCan get a nut, heard \"Can't Get Enough\"\nNow she fuck a nigga thinking that she may have hit the lotto\nNo way, Jose\nCould write a book called, \"The Things Hoes Say\"\nShow a lot of love to my sisters though\nBut these bitches so predictable\nI'm in trouble\nYou might also like\nTroubles of this, troubles of this world\nGetting to the promised land\nYou don't want problems, I promise, man\nTroubles of this, troubles of this world\nI take it to the promised land\nYou don't want problems, I promise, man\n\nSet it off on my left, set it off on my right\n(I said) Liquor all on my breath, bitches all in my sight\n(I said) Real niggas tryna fuck, fuck niggas wanna fight\n(I said) Gun shots into the air, but I ain't scared for my life\n(I said)\n\nAnd I'm going back to school\nOnly for the hoes and a class or two\nYoung bad bitch made the pastor drool\nEverybody sweat her like Catholic school\nSat next to her in the back of the class\nCheated off her test and I'm grabbing her ass\nShe like \"Don't you know this shit already?\"\n\"Nigga, ain't you rich already?\"\nYeah, but I got dumb as shit\nHanging 'round these rappers 'cause they dumb as shit\nBut I'm back on track, jump shot wasn't that good\nCouldn't sell crack but I rap good\nThat's one stereotype\nKnow a lot of niggas that'll marry your type\nBad bitch with a degree, I let 'em scoop ya\nI'm Koopa, I never been the Mario type\nNo saving hoes\nI ain't fooled cause a lot of cool bitches that a nigga went to school with is major hoes\nAnd they mans don't know, they mans don't know, fo' sho\nHad a nigga baby, little mans don\u2019t know\nMama, was a freak, got it in on the low\n12 years later when my song come on, he ask\n\"Mama, did you fuck J. Cole?\"\nWhoa\nTroubles of this, troubles of this world\nGetting to the promised land\nYou don't want problems, I promise, man\nTroubles of this, troubles of this world\nI take it to the promised land\nYou don't want problems, I promise, man\n\nSet it off on my left, set it off on my right\n(I said) Liquor all on my breath, bitches all in my sight\n(I said) Real niggas tryna fuck, fuck niggas wanna fight\n(I said) Gun shots into the air, but I ain't scared for my life\n(I said)"}
{"text":"I see the, I see the\u2014\nI see the, I see the\u2014\nI see the rain\nPouring down\nBefore my very eyes\nShould come as no surprise\nI see the, I see the rain\nPouring down, uh\nBefore my very eyes\nShould come as no surprise\n\nI'm searching and praying and hoping for something\nI know I'm gon' see it, I know that it's coming\nLord, huh\nLord, huh\nBut what do you do when there's no place to turn?\nI have no one, I'm lonely, my bridges have burnt down\nLord\nLord\n\nThe bells getting loud, ain't nowhere to hide\nGot nowhere to go, put away my pride\nTired of feeling low even when I'm high\nAin't no way to live, do I wanna die?\nI don't know, I don't know\nBells getting loud, ain't nowhere to hide\nGot nowhere to go, put away my pride\nTired of feeling low even when I'm high\nAin't no way to live, do I wanna die?\nI don't know, I don't know\nYou might also like\nBells gettin' louder, louder\nI see the rain\nPouring down"}
{"text":"\nAstro, yeah\n\nSun is down, freezin' cold\nThat's how we already know, winter's here\nMy dawg would probably do it for a Louis belt\nThat's just all he know, he don't know nothin' else\nI tried to show 'em, yeah\nI tried to show 'em, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nGoin' on you with the pick and roll\nYoung La Flame, he in sicko mode\n\n\n(Woo) Made this here with all the ice on in the booth\nAt the gate outside, when they pull up, they get me loose\nYeah, Jump Out boys, that's Nike boys, hoppin' out coupes\nThis shit way too big, when we pull up, give me the loot (Gimme the loot!)\nWas off the Remy, had a Papoose\nHad to hit my old town to duck the news\nTwo-four hour lockdown, we made no moves\nNow it's 4 AM and I'm back up poppin' with the crew\nI just landed in, Chase B mixes pop like Jamba Juice\nDifferent colored chains, think my jeweler really sellin' fruits\nAnd they chokin', man, know the crackers wish it was a noose\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nSome-some-some-someone said\nTo win the retreat, we all in too deep\nPlay-play-playin' for keeps, don't play us for weak (Someone said)\nTo win the retreat, we all in too deep\nPlay-play-playin' for keeps, don't play us for weak\n\nYeah, this shit way too formal, y'all know I don't follow suit\nStacey Dash, most of these girls ain't got a clue\nAll of these hoes I made off records I produced\nI might take all my exes and put 'em all in a group\nHit my eses, I need the bootch\n'Bout to turn this function to Bonnaroo\nTold her, \"Hop in, you comin' too\"\nIn the 305, bitches treat me like I'm Uncle Luke\n(Don't stop, pop that pussy!)\nHad to slop the top off, it's just a roof, uh\nShe said, \"Where we goin'?\" I said, \"The moon\"\nWe ain't even make it to the room\nShe thought it was the ocean, it's just the pool\nNow I got her open, it's just the Goose\nWho put this shit together? I'm the glue\n\nSomeone said\nShorty FaceTimed me out the blue\nSomeone said\nPlay-playin' for keeps\nSomeone said, mother****, someone said\nDon't play us for weak\n\nYeah!\nAstro, yeah, yeah\n(Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up!)\nAyy, ayy\n\nShe's in love with who I am\nBack in high school, I used to bus it to the dance (Yeah)\nNow I hit the FBO with duffels in my hands\nI did half a Xan, thirteen hours 'til I land\nHad me out like a light, ayy, yeah\nLike a light, ayy, yeah\n\nLike a light, ayy, slept through the flight, ayy\nKnocked for the night, ayy\n767, man, this shit got double bedroom, man\nI still got scores to settle, man\nI crept down the block (Down the block)\nMade a right (Yeah, right)\nCut the lights (Yeah, what?), paid the price (Yeah)\nNiggas think it's sweet (Nah, never), it's on sight (Yeah, what?)\nNothin' nice (Yeah), baguettes in my ice (Aw, man)\nJesus Christ (Yeah), checks over stripes (Yeah)\nThat's what I like (Yeah), that's what we like (Yeah)\nLost my respect, you not a threat\nWhen I shoot my shot, that shit wetty like I'm Sheck (Bitch)\nSee the shots that I took (Ayy), wet like I'm Book (Ayy)\nWet like I'm Lizzie\nI be spinnin' Valley, circle blocks 'til I'm dizzy (Yeah, what?)\nLike where is he? (Yeah, what?)\nNo one seen him (Yeah, yeah)\nI'm tryna clean 'em (Yeah)\nShe's in love with who I am\nBack in high school, I used to bus it to the dance\nNow I hit the FBO with duffels in my hands (Woo)\nI did half a Xan, thirteen hours 'til I land\nHad me out like a light (Like a light)\nLike a light (Like a light)\nLike a light (Like a light)\nLike a light\n\nYeah, passed the dawgs a celly\nSendin' texts, ain't sendin' kites, yeah\nHe said, \"Keep that on lock\"\nI say, \"You know this shit, it's stife,\" yeah\nIt's absolute, yeah (Yeah), I'm back, reboot (It's lit)\nLaFerrari to Jamba Juice, yeah (Skrrt, skrrt)\nWe back on the road, they jumpin' off, no parachute, yeah\nShorty in the back\nShe said she workin' on her glutes, yeah (Oh my God)\nAin't by the book, yeah, this how it look, yeah\n'Bout a check, yeah (Check), just check the foots, yeah\nPass this to my daughter, I'ma show her what it took (Yeah)\nBaby mama cover Forbes, got these other bitches shook\nYeah"}
{"text":"Yeah\n7:30 in the night, yeah\nOoh, ooh\n\nI get those goosebumps every time, yeah, you come around, yeah\nYou ease my mind, you make everything feel fine\nWorried 'bout those comments\nI'm way too numb, yeah, it's way too dumb, yeah\nI get those goosebumps every time, I need the Heimlich\nThrow that to the side, yeah\nI get those goosebumps every time, yeah\nWhen you're not around (Straight up)\nWhen you throw that to the side, yeah (It's lit)\nI get those goosebumps every time, yeah\n\n7-1-3\nThrough the 2-8-1, yeah, I'm ridin', why they on me?\nWhy they on me? I'm flyin', sippin' low-key\nI'm sippin' low-key in Onyx, rider, rider\nWhen I'm pullin' up right beside ya\nPop star, lil' Mariah\nWhen I text a cute game, wildness\nThrow a stack on the Bible\nNever Snapchat or took molly\nShe fall through plenty, her and all her ginnies, yeah\nWe at the top floor, right there off Doheny, yeah\nOh no, I can't fuck with y'all\nYeah, when I'm with my squad, I cannot do no wrong\nYeah, saucin' in the city, don't get misinformed\nYeah, they gon' pull up on you (Brr, brr, brr)\nYeah, we gon' do some things, some things you can't relate\nYeah, 'cause we from a place, a place you cannot stay\nOh, you can't go, oh, I don't know\nOh, back the fuck up off me (Brr, brr, brr)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nI get those goosebumps every time, yeah, you come around, yeah\nYou ease my mind, you make everything feel fine\nWorried 'bout those comments\nI'm way too numb, yeah, it's way too dumb, yeah\nI get those goosebumps every time, I need the Heimlich\nThrow that to the side, yeah\nI get those goosebumps every time, yeah\nWhen you're not around\nWhen you throw that to the side, yeah\nI get those goosebumps every time\n\nUh, I want to press my like, yeah, I wanna press my\nI want a green light, I wanna be like\nI wanna press my line, yeah\nI wanna take that ride, yeah\nI'm gonna press my line\nI want a green light, I wanna be like, I wanna press my\u2014\nMama dearest, spare your feelings\nI'm relivin' moments, peelin' more residual\nI can buy the buildin', burn the buildin'\nTake your bitch, rebuild the buildin' just to fuck some more\nI can justify my love for ya\nAnd touch the sky for God to stop debating war\nPut the pussy on a pedestal (Ayy)\nPut the pussy on a high horse\nThat pussy to die for\nThat pussy to die for\nPeter Piper picked a pepper\nSo I could pick your brain and put your heart together\nWe depart the shady parts and party hard\nThe diamonds yours, the coupe forever\nMy best shot just might shoot forever like (Brr)\nI get those goosebumps every time, yeah, you come around, yeah\nYou ease my mind, you make everything feel fine\nWorried 'bout those comments\nI'm way too numb, yeah, it's way too dumb, yeah\nI get those goosebumps every time, I need the Heimlich\nThrow that to the side, yeah\nI get those goosebumps every time, yeah\nWhen you're not around\nWhen you throw that to the side, yeah\nI get those goosebumps every time"}
{"text":"(All the commas)\n(Murda on the beat, so it's not nice)\nOoh, hmm\n\nFor this life, I cannot change (Change)\nHidden Hills, deep off in the main (Main)\nM&M's, sweet like candy cane (Cane)\nDrop the top, pop it, let it bang (Pop it, pop it)\nFor this life, I cannot change\nIn the hills, deep off in the main\nM&M's, sweet like candy cane\nDrop the top, pop it, let it bang (Pop it, pop it)\n\nDrop the top, play hide and seek (Yeah)\nJump inside, jump straight to the league (League)\nTake a sip, feel just how I be (It's lit)\nOn Freeway, but no, ain't nothin' free (Straight up)\nBend laws, bend lanes (Skrrt, skrrt)\nBeen bustin' bills, but still, ain't nothin' change (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nYou in the mob soon as you rock the chain (Skrrt, skrrt, mob)\nShe caught the waves, just thumbin' through my braids (Alright)\nHeatin' up, baby, I'm just heatin' up (It's lit)\nNeed your love, not a need, it is a must (Yeah)\nFeelin' stuck, you know how to keep me up (Yeah, yeah)\nIcy love, icy like a hockey puck (Alright)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nFor this life, I cannot change (Change)\nHidden Hills, deep off in the main (Main)\nM&M's, sweet like candy cane (Cane)\nDrop the top, pop it, let it bang (Pop it, pop it)\nFor this life, I cannot change\nHidden Hills, deep off in the main (Yeah, yeah)\nM&M's, sweet like candy cane\nDrop the top, pop it, let it bang\n\nAll the ones, all the chains piled on the mantle (Yeah)\nAll the dawgs, all the dawgs low creep right behind me in the Phantom (It's lit)\nYeah, never go, never go dip on the set, stayed Santana\nYeah, run it back, turn the lights on when I hit up Green Lantern (It's lit, alright)\nYeah, fly the broads, fly the dawgs down to Atlanta\nYeah, in the cut in Medusa, lay low, yeah, I might be\nYeah, roll up, help me calm down when I'm movin' high speed\nYeah, if I send one, need to text back 'cause you know what I need (Straight up)\nOh, please, oh, me, oh, my\nWe been movin', we been movin' for some time (Alright)\nFlexin', flexin', try to exercise\nExercise (Exercise), exercise (Exercise), exercise (Exercise), exercise (Exercise)\n(Yeah, yeah)\n\n(For this life)\nFor this life, I cannot change (Change)\nHidden Hills, deep off in the main (Main)\nM&M's, sweet like candy cane (Cane)\nDrop the top, pop it, let it bang (Pop it, pop it)\nFor this life, I cannot change\nHidden Hills, deep off in the main\nM&M's, sweet like candy cane\nDrop the top, pop it, let it bang (Bang, yeah)"}
{"text":"I got room in my fumes (Yeah)\nShe fill my mind up with ideas\nI'm the highest in the room (It\u2019s lit)\nHope I make it outta here (Let's go)\n\nShe saw my eyes, she know I'm gone (Ah)\nI see some things that you might fear\nI\u2019m doin' a show, I'll be back soon (Soon)\nThat ain't what she wanna hear (Nah)\nNow I got her in my room (Ah)\nLegs wrapped around my beard\nGot the fastest car, it zoom (Skrrt)\nHope we make it outta here (Ah)\nWhen I'm with you, I feel alive\nYou say you love me, don't you lie (Yeah)\nWon't cross my heart, don't wanna die\nKeep the pistol on my side (Yeah)\n\nCase it\u2019s fumes (Smoke)\nShe fill my mind up with ideas (Straight up)\nI\u2019m the highest in the room (It's lit)\nHope I make it outta here (Let\u2019s go, yeah)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nWe ain't stressin' 'bout the loot (Yeah)\nMy block made of queser\u00eda\nThis not the molly, this the boot\nAin\u2019t no comin' back from here\nLive the life of La Familia\nIt's so much gang that I can't see ya (Yeah)\nTurn it up 'til they can't hear (We can't)\nRunnin', runnin' 'round for the thrill\nYeah, dawg, dawg, 'round my real (Gang)\nRaw, raw, I been pourin' to the real (Drank)\nNah, nah, nah, they not back of the VIP (In the VIP)\nGorgeous, baby, keep me hard as steel\nAh, this my life, I did not choose\nUh, been on this since we was kids\nWe gon' stay on top and break the rules\nUh, I fill my mind up with ideas\n\nCase it's fumes\nShe fill my mind up with ideas (Straight up)\nI'm the highest in the room (I'm the highest, it's lit)\nHope I make it outta here"}
{"text":"Don't you open up that window\nDon't you let out that antidote (Yeah)\nPoppin' pills is all we know (Ooh)\nIn the hills is all we know (Hollywood)\nDon't go through the front door (Through the back)\nIt's lowkey at the night show (Ooh)\nSo, don't you open up that window (Ooh)\nDon't you let out that antidote, yeah\nParty on a Sunday (That was fun)\nDo it all again on Monday (One more time)\nSpent a check on a weekend (Oh my God)\nI might do it all again (That's boss shit)\nI just hit a three peat (Ooh)\nFucked three hoes I met this week (Robert Horry)\nI don't do no old hoes (Oh, no, no)\nMy nigga, that's a no-no (Straight up)\nShe just want the coco (Coca\u00edna)\nI just want dinero (Paper hunt, wait)\nWho that at the front door? (Who that is?)\nIf it's the feds, oh, no, no, no (Don't let 'em in, shh)\n\nDon't you open up that window (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nDon't you let out that antidote (Yeah, yeah, yeah, ooh, yeah)\nPoppin' pills is all we know (Yeah)\nIn the hills is all we know (Hollywood)\nDon't go through the front door (In the back)\nIt's lowkey at the night show (Ooh)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nYeah, ooh, ooh, at the night show (Ooh-ooh-ooh, ah)\nAt the night show (Higher)\nAt the night show (Ooh-ooh-ooh, ah)\nOoh, at the night show (Get lit, my nigga)\nOoh, at the night show (Yeah)\nAnything can happen at the night show (Ooh-ooh-ooh, ah)\nEverything can happen at the night show\nOoh, at the night show\nAnything can happen at the night show\nOoh, at the night show\nOoh, your bitch not at home, she at the night show\nOoh (Straight up), fuckin' right, ho\nOoh, had to catch a flight for the night show\nOoh (Let's go), let's get piped though\nBottles got us right though, we ain't sippin' light, no (Rrr, La Flame)\nI ain't got no type though\nOnly got one night though\nWe can do it twice though (Rrr, it's lit)\n\nAt the night show, ooh\nAt the night show (Ooh, ooh)\nAt the night show\nOoh, at the night show\nYeah, at the night show\nEverything can happen at the night show\nOoh, at the night show\nAnything can happen at the night show, ooh\nStackin' up day to day, young nigga\nYou know you gotta go get it, go get it, my nigga\nThey hatin', they stankin', they waitin'\nDon't be mistaken, we dyin', they stayin'\nLord, I'm on fire, they think that I'm Satan\nCallin' me crazy on different occasions\nKickin' the cameraman off of my stages\n'Cause I don't like how he snappin' my angles\nI'm overboard and I'm over-impatient\nOver my niggas and these kids my ages\nDealin' with Mo' shit that's more complicated\nLike these two bitches that might be related\nH-Town, you got one, and you Bun B like a number-one\nIt's late night, got a late show\nIf you wanna roll, I got a place where, ah\n\nPoppin' pills is all we know (Ooh)\nIn the hills is all we know (Hollywood)\nDon't go through the front door (Through the back)\nIt's lowkey at the night show (Ooh)\n\nSo don't you open up that window (Ooh)\n(Don't you let out that antidote)"}
{"text":"\n(Ah)\n\nRollin', rollin', rollin', got me stargazin' (Yeah)\nSippin' on purp, feelin' like the Barre Baby (It's lit)\nWhatever I downed, it got me goin' crazy (Yeah)\nPsychedelics got me goin' crazy (Alright)\n\nI was hot as hell out in the heat (Yeah, yeah)\nThen a storm came in and saved my life\nHead up to the sky, down on my knees (Straight up)\nOut of nowhere, you came here to save the night\nIn the nighttime (Woo, yeah)\n\nRollin', rollin', rollin', got me stargazin' (Roll)\nPsychedelics got me goin' crazy (Oh, no)\nNiggas femalin', they excellin' (Yeah)\nAre they intellin'? (What you tellin'?)\nWe propellin', up top with Ellen, uh (With the choppers)\nKill the jealous with propane repellent\nGot me goin' crazy (It's lit)\nOn tour, we'll tell 'em, we brought the section (Gang)\nThey keep on callin' up, it's getting hectic (Brrt)\nLike we projected\nSo we cut the plug, he's interjected (Got me goin' crazy)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nRollin', rollin', rollin', got me stargazin' (Yeah)\nSippin' on purp, feelin' like the Barre Baby (It's lit)\nWhatever I downed, it got me goin' crazy (Yah)\nPsychedelics got me goin' crazy (Alright)\n\nI was hot as hell out in the heat (Yeah, yeah)\nThen the storm came in and saved my life\nHead up to the sky, down on my knees (Straight up)\nOut of nowhere, you came here to save the night\nIn the nighttime (Woo, yeah)\nGot me goin' crazy\n\n\nOkay, I been up for some days, I ain't got time to lay\nJust to drown out all these thoughts, I tried all kind of things\nIf I take you to my past, you will be traumatized\nGot a thousand kids outside that's tryna come alive\n'99, took AstroWorld, it had to relocate\nTold the dawgs I'd bring it back, it was a seal of faith\nBefore no car notes, baby girl, she played the tourist guide\nGot the keys into my city, now she know the rides\nGot new money, got new problems, got new enemies\nWhen you make it to the top, that's the amenities\nPackin' out Toyota like I'm in the league\nAnd it ain't a mosh pit if ain't no injuries\nI got 'em stage divin' out the nosebleeds (Alright, alright, alright)\nAnd she hit that booger sugar 'til her nose bleed (Alright, alright, alright)\nBounce that shit forever, she on both knees\nShe was talkin' 'bout forever, got a whole week (Alright, alright, alright)\nPlus, she know my baby mama is a trophy\nShe be throwin' up them B's, feel like we both bleed\nShe keep my dick jumpin' up, feel like I'm Moby\nI'm way too gold for this beef, feel like I'm Kobe, yeah\nThis right here is astronomical\nI see you picked up all my ways, I feel responsible\nThey tryna say that all my problems is improbable\nThey keep itchin' at my spirit, I'm diabolical, you feel me?"}
{"text":"That coca\n\nI just poured an eight in a liter\nThrow some Jolly Rancher in, make it sweeter\nVersace my clothes, I'm with a white ho\nAnd she snortin' three lines like Adidas\nGot a black girl rollin' off molly\nGot a white bitch snortin' up snow\nSay she want real niggas in the party\nParents gon' leave the keys to the condo\n\nBitch, close the door, there's shit on your nose (That coca)\nShe said she want more, she said she want more\nSo I'ma get more, yeah, I'ma get more\nBitch, close the door, there's shit on your nose\nShe said she want more, she said she want more\nSo I'ma get more, yeah, I'ma get more\nI just poured an eight in a liter\nWith a white bitch sniffin' on Bieber\nAre you sure you wanna party with the demons?\nBitch, lookin' for her phone, I ain't seen it\nTold Frost, \"Bring the water,\" no Fiji\nFree Stix, I'm poured up and I'm leanin'\nI got a couple pussy niggas in they feelings\n'Cause the main bitch wanna come see me\nShe said she want more, your girl is a ho\nYou need to let go, she fucked all my bros\nShe snortin' the snow (That coca), now she touchin' her toes\nShe got Anna Nicole all in her nose\nIf they kick down the door, we gon' get locked for sure\nShe said she want more, fuck it, I'ma get more (I'ma get more)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nNightmare, high-life, sleepy, night-night (Yeah)\nFlashes, spotlight, pull up, night sky (Yeah, yeah)\nHelp it, peace, peace, peaced it (Yeah)\nBite me, ride me (Yeah), strike me, indict me (Yeah, yeah)\nSnipe it, swipe it, rapper, trapper (Ooh, yeah)\nI'm lit, light\u2013(Yeah)\u2014nin' (Lit)\nWhite bitch (Bitch), she thick (Thick)\nPulled out of the hood, Toyota\nDrove back to the hood, Lambo' (Ooh)\nCrushed Xans, crushed Xans in my soda\nRidin' 'round the city with my eyes closed (Yeah, yeah)\nCrazy Girls got it poppin', AOD got it poppin' (Yeah, yeah)\nTryna text my accountant, ain't no service in the mountains (Straight up)\nWon't you come to the bottom? Know you heard a lot about 'em (Yeah)\nHeard they take that, then they change like a mood ring (Yeah, yeah)\nI watch 'em take that, then they change like a mood ring\nPulled out of the hood, Toyota\nDrove back to the hood, Lambo' (Ooh)\nCrushed Xans, crushed Xans in my soda\nRidin' 'round the city with my eyes closed (Ooh)\n\nI just poured an eight in a liter\nThrow some Jolly Rancher in, make it sweeter\nVersace my clothes, I'm with a white ho\nAnd she snortin' three lines like Adidas\nGot a black girl rollin' off molly (Molly)\nGot a white bitch snortin' up snow\nSay she want real niggas in the party\nParents gon' leave the keys to the condo\nBitch, close the door, there's shit on your nose (That coca)\nShe said she want more, she said she want more\nSo I'ma get more (Ooh), yeah, I'ma get more (Ooh)\nBitch close the door (Ooh), there's shit on your nose (Ooh)\nShe said she want more (Ooh), she said she want more (Ooh)\nSo I'ma get more (Ooh), yeah, I'ma get more\n\nMmm-mmm, mmm-mmm, mmm-mmm, mmm-mmm\nMmm-mmm-mmm, mmm-mmm-mmm\nMmm-mmm-mmm, mmm-mmm-mmm"}
{"text":"\n(Dean, what's poppin'? Hahahahaha. Yo, Travis)\nMhm, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nMama's mailin' out that blow, cravin' 9021\u2014\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\n\nShe a porn star girl, ah, from the valley\n(Honestly, God bless)\nWho left her hometown world all for that alley\nOoh, created Lake Tahoe all from her panties\n(I hope it was wet like my jumper, though)\nOoh, used to take the long way home\nLong way home, all for that candy (Hahahahaha, mhm)\n\nBaby's hooked on feeling low-ow\nDo, do, do\nDo, do\n\nJacques turned La Flame, now he rollin' on an Addy\nFifty on a chain, 'nother fifty on a Caddy\nOoh, he might pop him a pill, pop him a seal\nPop anyone, pop anything\nPop anything to find that alley\nMhm, yeah, to find that alley (Mhm)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nBaby's hooked on feeling low-ow\nDo, do, do\nDo, do\n\nIn the 90210, 90210, lookin' for that alley\nIn the 90210, 90210, lookin' for that alley, ooh\nIt's the superstar girl, superstar girl, roamin' in that alley\n(Baby's hooked on feeling low-ow)\nOoh, in the 90210, 90210, somewhere in that alley\n(Do, do, do)\n(Do, do)\nOoh, ahh\n(I gotta tell ya)\n\n(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\n(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\n(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\nOoh-ooh\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\nYeah\nMy granny called, she said, \"Travvy, you work too hard\nI'm worried you forget about me\"\n(All, all, all)\nI'm fallin' in and out of clouds\nDon't worry, I'ma get it, Granny, uh\nWhat happened? Now my daddy happy\nMama called me up, that money comin' and she love me\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\nI done made it now, I done found life's meanin' now\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\nAll them days her heart'd break, her heart not in pieces now\nFriends turnin' into fraud niggas\nPracticin' half the passion, you niggas packaged different\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\nAll you niggas, you niggas want the swag, you can't have it\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\nI'ma sell it, your niggas salary, we 'bout to cap, bitch\nYoungest nigga out of Houston at the Grammys\nSmilin' at 'em laughin' at me\nI passed the rock to Ye, he pump faked, then passed it back, bitch\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\nAll of this off of rappin', should've wrote this in Latin, yeah-yeah\n(All, all, all thang, thang)\nMmm, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nCuzzo said we hit the store, yeah, we 'bout to drop a four\nHe passed the cigarette, I choke, woo\nTold my auntie, \"Put them 'Ports down, them 'Ports down\"\nNow you know you love your own now\nHit the stage, they got their hands up, don't put your nose down\nI ain't knockin', nigga, I knocked the door down, for sure now\nWhole crew, I swear they countin' on me\nGold chains, gold rings, I got an island on me\nHouses on me, he got them ounces on him\nHoly Father, come save these niggas, I'm stylin' on 'em\nGood Lord, I see my good fortune in all these horses\nI'm drivin' too fast to stop, so all these signs, I ignore them\nJust this guy from north of the border, my chips is in order\nMy mom's biggest supporter, so now a nigga support a nigga\n(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\n(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)"}
{"text":"Ice on my neck, flawless baguettes\nHop off a jet, barely get rest\nCash through the month, I get a check (Check)\nYves Saint Laurent on my pants and my chest (Drip)\nChanel, her dress, clean up her mess\nI eat her flesh, you know the rest\nCount up a hun', cop a Rolex (Checks)\nShine like the sun, you truly blessed (Shine)\nTwo-tone Patek (Mmm-mmm-mmm)\nIn The Clearport like I Uber these jets (Jets)\nVVS's on me, got my Gucci shirt wet\nPut an M in my bag (Mmm), gon' get used to these racks (Used)\nI went to school where they teach you finesse (Mmm)\nFive hundred shoes for the drip, I invest ('Vest, mmm)\nI'm the bossman, I keep cash in the desk (Mmm-mmm-mmm)\nKnow the coupe fast (Yeah), when it end with an \"S\"\n\nNow that I'm home, back off the road\nWe shut it down where it ain't so\nWith checks in the streets, Jay number 4s\nSaint Laurent feet, put it on toes\nTake it with me, double your dose\nCovered with angels that's watchin' my soul\nJet got a bed, it's bigger windows\nSaid, \"I'll be there in ten,\" but I got there in four\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nI feel like I'm chosen, I'm covered in gold (Gold, gold, gold)\nMmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm\nMmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm\nI left her wide open, no self control ('Trol, 'trol, 'trol)\nMmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm\nMmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm\nTook nothin' but five minutes, she hopped in and drove (Drove, drove, drove)\nMmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm-hmm-mmm\n\nIce on my neck, flawless baguettes (Flawless baguettes)\nHop off a jet, barely get rest\nCash through the month, I get a check (Check)\nYves Saint Laurent on my pants and my chest (Drip)\nChanel, her dress, clean up her mess\nI eat her flesh, you know the rest\nCount up a hun', cop a Rolex (Checks)\nShine like the sun, you truly blessed (Shine, yeah)\nTwo-tone Pateks (Mmm-mmm-mmm)\nIn The Clearport like I Uber the jets (Jets)\nVVS's on me, got my Louis shirt wet\nIt's an M in my bag (Mmm), gon' get used to these racks (Used)\nI went to school where they teach you finesse (Mmm)\nFive hundred shoes for the drip, I invest ('Vest, mmm)\nI'm the bossman, I keep cash in the desk (Mmm-mmm-mmm)\nKnow the coupe fast (Yeah), when it end with an \"S\"\nLa Flame on an island, me and Cash, Gunna hopped on a Learjet\nGot Pradas every color and I got CCs you ain't seen yet\nSaid I'd kick the cup and now I'm askin', \"Where the codeine at?\"\nThirty pointers and up, Eliantte, drippin', my whole team wet"}
{"text":"No, you can't say if I'm mad or not\nSmokin' hella weed, I'm on that alcohol\nAnd shawty lick me clean the way she suck me off\nI keep two hoes in my bed, I got 'em turnin' out\nWhat would you do if you heard I got it goin' on?\nI had to burn, I left skrrt marks, I had to dip (I had to)\nGotta watch for 12 'round my town, you might get killed (Better watch for 12)\nI'm out my mind, yeah, I'm high above the rim (I'm out my mind)\nYou cop it live, boy, I got it all on film\n\nYou gotta watch out where you rock 'cause shit get real\nDrink too real, I can't be fake, don't know the feel\nGotta take a long drive up the hill\nGang too wavy, move like Navy Seals\nI'm too wavy, think I need a Lyft\nChicago baby, she just wanna drill\nThe vibe's too wavy, it's too hard to kill\nGotta watch out where you go 'cause shit get real\n\nUh-huh, yeah\nSwang, when I swang, when I swang to the left\nOh, yeah\nPo\u2014pop my trunk, dip\u2014dip\u2014dip\u2014dip\nOh my\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nYou can't say if I'm mad or nah\nSmokin' hella weed, I'm on that alcohol\nAnd shawty lick me clean the way she suck me off\nI keep two hoes in my bed, I got 'em turnin' out\nWhat would you do if you heard I got it burnin' out?\nI let it burn, skrrt that mark, I had to dip (I had to)\nBetter watch for 12 'round my town, you might get killed (Better watch for 12)\nI'm out my mind, yeah, I'm high above the rim (I'm out my mind)\nYou cop it live, boy, I got it all on film\n\nYou must be cautious, told the lil' hoes, \"I'm all in\"\nPlay this ballers offense, I left ol' girl, she callin'\nYou know I hit in the mornin', oh, yeah, she yawnin'\nI met you in the club, bitch, you know this shit mean nothin'\nOh, didn't I hit your cousin? Mmm, no, no discussion\nSippin' on lean, no Robitussin, oh, yeah, I know you love me\nI beat it, ain't no cuddlin', you down bad, you sufferin'\nI don't give a fuck how hard it get, that lil' bitch know I started this\nUh-huh, oh, yeah, get to the cash, no layup\nSpend a big bag, Rodeo, some may ride for the fresh cut\nHoes come through just to touch us, I'ma tell the truth like Usher\nYou already know how I bust her, slang my chop' from Russia\n\nSwang, when I swang, when I swang to the left\nPop, pop my trunk, dip, dip, dip, dip\nSwang\u2014swang, when I swang, when I swang to the left\nPop, pop my trunk, dip\nNo, you can't say if I'm mad or not\nSmokin' hella weed, I'm on that alcohol\nShawty lick me clean the way she suck me off\nI keep two hoes in my bed, I got 'em turnin' out\nWhat would you do if you heard I got it goin' on?\nI had to burn, I left skrrt marks, I had to dip\nGotta watch for 12 'round my town, you might get killed\nI'm out my mind, yeah, I'm high above the rim\nYou cop it live, boy, I got it all on film"}
{"text":"This is the real action: the pot party, the trippers, the grasshoppers, the hip ones\nAll gathered in secrecy and flying high as a kite\n\nHmm-hmm\nJust know what this about\nHmm-hmm-hmm, hmm-hmm\nPalm trees, oceans, fresh air, that can break your heart\n\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God)\nHmm-hmm, hmm-hm\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God)\nHmm-hmm (That's not who you are)\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God)\nHmm-hmm (That's just not your job)\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God, God)\n\nRide for it every night\nVisions and these angles tight\nTruth be told, I never try\nDiamonds are the wife of life\nAll three Rollies look alike (Hm)\nAfter two you get a hook-up price\nStripper never worked a nine-to-five (Hm)\nDelta and I ship it overnight (Hm)\nStop tryna be God Almighty (Hm)\nFuck the money, never leave your people behind, yeah\nIt's never love, no matter what you try\nStill can see it comin' down your eyes\n'Cause they did not create commandments (Ooh-ooh)\nWhen you hustle, always make it fancy (Ooh-ooh)\nThe signal's far from what you can be (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause air traffic controls the landing, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God)\nHmm-hmm, hmm-hm\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God)\nHmm-hmm (That's not who you are)\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God)\nHmm-hmm (That's just not your job)\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God, God)\n\nStop tryna play God Almighty\nAlways keep your circle tight\nI been wantin' shit my whole life\nI'm warning you, better not try to play God tonight\nIf I love her, I'ma pass on her\nFirst rule of war, you find an act on her\nYou can't win a trophy or a plaque off her\nBut never turn your back on her\n'Cause they did not create commandments\nWhen you hustle, always make it fancy\nThe signal's far from what you can be\n'Cause air traffic controls the landing, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYou won't succeed tryna learn me\nStick to the roads in my journey\nStay out of court when you got the attorney\nShe say she love, but want to really burn me\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God)\nHmm-hmm, hmm-hm\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God)\nHmm-hmm (That's not who you are)\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God)\nHmm-hmm (That's just not your job)\nHmm-hmm (Stop tryna be God, God)\n\nIs it the complex of the saint\nThat's keepin' you so, so, so still still?\nIs it a coat of old paint\nThat's peelin' every day against our will?\nIs it too long since the last\nOpen conversation you had? Oh, no\nAnd did you see the void in the past?\nAnd can you ever see it comin' back?\nWell, can you always be a step ahead of it for me?\nWell, can you always be a step ahead of it for me?\n\nWoah-oh-oh\nWoah-oh-oh\nWoah-oh-oh\nWoah-oh-oh\nThat it?"}
{"text":"Hmm-hmm, meh-meh, mmm, meh-meh-meh\nHmm-hmm, meh-meh, mmm, meh-meh-meh\nHmm-hmm, meh-meh, mmm, me -meh-meh\nHmm-hmm, meh-meh, mmm, meh-meh-meh (And then we)\n\nSleep through day, then we play all through the late night\nSleep through day, then we play all through the late night (Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh)\nAll through the late night (And then we)\nS'il vous pla\u00eet, don't you hate, all through the late night (Hmm-hmm, meh-meh)\n\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Hmm-hmm, meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Oh, meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Hmm-hmm, meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Woah)\n\nBlimp's soarin', how the hell did I get in this space?\nFour in the mornin', how did I get in this place?\nOh, it don't matter, got smoke, drink, and I'm runnin' this space\nDone contemplatin', I'ma take it in and groove in this case\nN,N-Dimethyltryptamine and lysergic acid diethylamide\nThe vibes are effervescent, delicious, just how they should be\nN,N-Dimethyltryptamine and lysergic acid diethylamide\nThe vibes are effervescent, delicious, just how they should be\nNo sleep in my bed, no sleepin' in my bed\nYeah, we gon' play, gon' play, gon' play until the day\nI said no sleep in my bed, no sleepin' in my bed\nYeah, we gon' play, gon' play, then we'll sleep all through the day and do it again\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nSleep through day, then we play all through the late night\nSleep through day, then we play all through the late night (Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh)\nAll through the late night (And then we)\nS'il vous pla\u00eet, don't you hate, all through the late night (Hmm-hmm, meh-meh)\n\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Hmm-hmm, meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Oh, meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Hmm-hmm, meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the\u2014\nDay and night (Yeah)\nI toss and turn, I keep stressin' my mind, mind (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah)\nI seek the peace, sometimes I can't restrain (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah)\nTo join a rage at night, come out and play, play (Ooh), mmm-hmm\nBalance (Yeah), find your balance (Pipe up, yeah)\nGod said it's my talent (Ooh-ooh), sprinkle lil' season on the salad (Ooh-ooh)\nRelieve my heart of malice (Yeah), hit my palace (Straight up)\nStroke my cactus (It's lit), ooh, don't wait (Yeah), mmm, don't play (Yeah, yeah)\nPlay no games like the NBA (Brr), throwin' checks like the NBA (Brr)\nYou a ring, you a ring, we shootin' shots like the NRA (Brr)\nYeah, she jammin', it's Travis and Kid Cudi (Straight up)\nThe new Krayzie Bone and Slim Bun B (Yeah)\nShawty, yeah, on the scene, yeah (Yeah), pull up on the scene, yeah (Yeah)\nSip my tea, lean no Hennessy (Yeah)\nAh, save all, take it right (Yeah), ah, take it all, never light (Straight up)\nAh, had a ball, had a night (Yeah), ah, after all, sleep good (Yeah)\nSleep through day, then we play all through the late night\nSleep through day, then we play all through the late night (Uh-uh-uh-uh-uh)\nAll through the late night (And then we)\nS'il vous pla\u00eet, don't you hate, all through the late night (Hmm-hmm, meh-meh)\n\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Hmm-hmm, meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Oh, meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Hmm-hmm, meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Mmm, meh-meh-meh)\nAll through the late night (Woah)"}
{"text":"The party never ends\nIn a motel layin' with my sins, yeah\nI'm tryna get revenge\nYou'll be all out of love in the end\n\n(Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh)\nSpent ten hours on this flight, man\nTold the pilot ain't no flight plans\nCan't believe whatever I'm seein'\n(Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh)\nAnd they know whenever I land\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Yeah)\n\nThe party never ends\nIn a motel layin' with my sins, yeah\nI'm tryna get revenge\nYou'll be all out of love in the end\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nBicentennial man, put the city on slam\nShe get trippy off Xans, lost twenty-one grams\nAnd she did it on cam, wasn't no video dance\nMake my own rules, I really don't pick, I just choose\nI don't set picks, I just shoot\nChopped and get screwed\nI told her it's B.Y.O.B., that mean buy your own boobs\nPut it on God, He the one that put me on top\nCan't be put in a box, gotta move on the opps\nDevil got the move on the drop\nNiggas tryna move on the Scott\nAnd move that deep, tryna run down, shit's steep\nGotta act a fool with the squad\nNext city, no sleep, back to the 713\n\n(Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh)\nSpent ten hours on this flight, man (Flight, man)\nTold the pilot ain't no flight plans (Flight plans)\nCan't believe whatever I'm seein' (I'm seein')\n(Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh)\nAnd they know whenever I land (I land)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Yeah)\nHeartbreak hotel\nBet you can't take no L's\nPlug like AOL\nWho say that I ain't gon' sell?\nHand me the H, I'll sell\nShe said, \"I got a nigga\"\nI said, \"I ain't gon' tell\"\nBuy it by the pound so it ain't no scale\nI'm sick of the drink (The drink, yeah)\nThe flippin' of paint (The paint, yeah)\nGrippin' the grain (Wood grain, yeah)\nWhippin' the tank (Wu-Tang, yeah)\nMy niggas gon' flame (Bang, yeah)\nBitch, I'm with gang (Gang, yeah)\nGot your bitch on a plane\n\n(Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh)\nSpent ten hours on this flight, man (Flight, man)\nTold the pilot ain't no flight plans (Flight plans)\nCan't believe whatever I'm seein' (I'm seein')\n(Oh-oh, oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh)\nAnd they know whenever I land (I land)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Yeah)\n\nThe party never ends\n\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Yeah, the party never ends)\n\nFamily function, ain't no friends\nHad a line around my ends\nTurned 'em into M's\nWhy you tryna make amends?\nWhat's that smell? It's heaven's scent\nAnd, like I jump straight out the wind\nDodgin' Hell and sins\nI can't go back there again\nNah, the dawgs ain't civilized\nTake the one, feel vilified\nYou can't see my sons\nLike the light don't hit they side\nIn the function, and I'm fried\nIt's a strive, it's not a drive\nWhen they open wide\nIt's a riot, riot\n\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nNah, nigga, nah, nigga, for real, we walkin' in this bitch heavy\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Bitch!)\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up\nThey know me when they see me, nigga, ah!\nFuck the club up, fuck the club up (Yeah)\nUh"}
{"text":"(Hooo) yawa thgin eht esahc\nOt ydaer 'nitteg er'uoy wonk I\nEcnad annaw uoy wonk I ,evom annaw uoy wonk I\nDoom eht ni enola emoh er'uoy nehw\n\nI try it if it feels right\nThis feels nice\nI've been down and lost for days\nGlad I found you on the way\nWhen the day gets brighter, the night gets nighter\nI always feel this way\nThrough the hills\nI hear you callin', miles and miles away\n(Hooo) yawa thgin eht esahc\nOt ydaer 'nitteg er\u2019uoy wonk I\nEcnad annaw uoy wonk I ,evom annaw uoy wonk I\nDoom eht ni enola emoh er'uoy nehw\n\nWe up all night, from dawn to dusk it's always poppin'\nI fell in love, fell outta love, we both had options\nI played the drums, she rolled the drugs\nI rocked the club, we both throw up\nWe was the band you never heard before\nYou got that tat' above your crack\nAnd on your cat, you be right back\nYour momma never know\nWe were rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin' stones\nWhen I'm all alone I wish you had a clone\nI take that puff, you take that puff\nYou know we never care to overdose\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nI try it if it feels right (Oh)\nThis feels nice\nI've been down and lost for days\nGlad I found you on the way\nWhen the day gets brighter, the night gets nighter\nI always feel this way\nThrough the hills\nI hear you callin', miles and miles away\n(Hooo) yawa thgin eht esahc\nOt ydaer 'nitteg er'uoy wonk I\nEcnad annaw uoy wonk I ,evom annaw uoy wonk I\nDoom eht ni enola emoh er'uoy nehw\n\nShit, I try it if it feels nice\nShit, this kinda feels nice\nM-miles and miles away\nMiles and miles away\n\nWhen you're home alone in the mood\nI know you wanna move, I know you wanna dance\nI know you gettin' ready to\nTake the night away\nWhen you're home alone in the mood\nI know you wanna move, I know you wanna dance\nI know you're gettin' ready to\nChase the night away (Oooh)\nOh, you love me, darling"}
{"text":"Just come outside for the night (Yeah)\nTake your time, get your light (Yeah)\nJohnny Dang, yeah, yeah\nI been out geekin' (Bitch)\n\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N (Yeah)\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N (Yeah)\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N\nFE!N, FE!N (Yeah), FE!N, FE!N, FE!N\n\nThe career's more at stake when you in your prime (At stake)\nFuck that paper, baby, my face on the dotted line (Dot, yeah)\nI been flyin' out of town for some peace of mind (Yeah, yeah, bitch)\nIt's like always they just want a piece of mine (Ah)\nI been focused on the future, never on right now (Ah)\nWhat I'm sippin' not kombucha, either pink or brown (It's lit)\nI'm the one that introduced you to the you right now (Mmm, let's go)\nOh my God, that bitch bitin' (That bitch bitin')\nWell, alright (Alright), tryna vibe (I'm tryna vibe this)\nIn the night, come alive\nAin't asleep, ain't a\u2014, ain't a\u2014, ain't-ain't\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nSyrup, woah, what?\nWhat?\n(Homixide, Homixide, Homixide, Homixide)\nWhat? (Yeah)\nWoah, woah (Yeah, yeah)\n(Homixide, Homixide, Homixide, Homixide)\nHit, yeah, hold up (Yeah)\n\nYeah, I just been poppin' my shit and gettin' it live, hold up (Shit)\nYeah, you try to come wrong 'bout this shit, we poppin' your tires, hold up (Shit)\nUh, hundred-round (Woah), feelin' like I'm on ten\nPlayin' both sides with these hoes (Hold up), shawty, I'm fuckin' your friend (Hold up)\nI've been goin' crazy, shawty, I've been in the deep end\nShe not innocent, uh, she just tryna go\n\nFE!N (Talkin' 'bout), FE!N, FE!N (Yeah), FE!N, FE!N (Syrup, oh, oh, what? Syrup)\nFE!N, FE!N (Syrup), FE!N, FE!N, FE!N (Oh, oh)\nFE!N, FE!N (Talkin' 'bout), FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N (Talkin' 'bout, let's go)\nI just been icin' my hoes, I just been drippin' my hoes (Drippin' my hoes)\nThis is a whole 'nother level, shawty (Oh), I got these hoes on they toes (Hoes on they toes)\nI put the bitch on the road, she tryna fuck on the O, hold up, hold up\nI got this ho with me, she tryna show me somethin', hold up, hold up (Oh)\nI got flows for days, these niggas ain't on nothin', hold up, yeah (Oh)\nMe and my boy locked in, you know we on one, hold up, uh (Slatt, slatt)\nWe in the spot goin' crazy until the sun up\nYou worried about that ho, that ho done chose up (Slatt, bitch-ass)\nUh, pistols all in the kitchen, can't give the zip code up, hold up, yeah (Wow)\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N (Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh? Yeah)\nWhy the fuck these niggas actin' like they know us?\nDouble O, Cactus, yeah, we towed up (Skrrt, skrrt), uh, yeah\nSwitch out the bag, these niggas get rolled up, hold up (It's lit), slatt\nEverything hit, hold up, everything Homixide, Homixide (Homixide, Homixide, Homixide, Homixide)\nFE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N, FE!N (Homixide, Homixide, Homixide, Homixide, Homixide, Homixide, Homixide)"}
{"text":"\nMade it to L.A., yeah\nFinally in L.A., yeah\nLookin' for the weed though\nTryna make my own dough\nCallin' for Maria\nLost without Maria\nMight dive in the marina\n(Ooo-oooh, ooo-ooh)\n\nSo trust me, baby, trust me\nTrust me, baby, trust me\nTrust me, baby, trust me\nI don't mind\nTrust me, baby, trust me\nTrust me, baby, trust me\nTrust me, baby, trust me\nI don't mind\nTrust me, trust me\nTrust me, trust me\nTrust me, trust me\nYeah, I don't mind\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nTravis Scott\nYou know, ooh\nThugger Thugger, nigga (Ayy)\n\nCall your friends, let's get drunk (Let's get drunk, ayy)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk, hey)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk, get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk, ooh\n\nTwelve more hours left for us in a day\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nI've been drinkin' all day, I've been floatin' all day (Ayy, ooh)\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk, ayy)\nBring your ass over here now\nYou know where, how I stay\nI've been gone for some time now (Yeah)\nI just want a lil' taste\nMix, mix, pour (Lean, lean)\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nDrinkin', sippin' slow (Slow it down, bae)\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk, ayy)\nDrink so cold now, froze (Pfft)\nFroze (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nFroze (Sheesh, sheesh, sheesh, sheesh, sheesh, sheesh, sheesh)\nCome on over, get drunk\nDamn, girl, I be up late\nIf you want, you can meet me at the studio (You can meet me at the studio)\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nYeah, I've been drinkin' all night (Hey, ooh)\nTake a shot, all we got is Don Julio (All we got is Don Julio)\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk, ayy)\nYeah, I'm guessin' this is new to you\nThinkin' 'bout all the things that I would do to you\nThem lips on fire and them hips don't lie (Yeah, uh)\nGirl, I just wanna see what that booty do (Damn right)\nLet's lose each other's mind (Ah-ah)\nLet's make each other's night (Ah-ah)\nTake advantage of time\nWhile we both intertwined (Slow it down, bae)\nGirl, I want you on the rocks, no chaser (Oh no)\nBe sure to drink it all, won't waste ya (Oh no, pfft)\nI know you stay sober (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nI'm sure a few drinks won't faze you (Sheesh, sheesh, sheesh, sheesh, sheesh, sheesh, sheesh)\n\nCall your friends, let's get drunk (Hol' up)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk (Ayy)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk, yeah\nPress lil' mama for weed, and she did it for free\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nYeah, that thing wet, baby, I need skis\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk, ayy)\nSkrrt, yeah, I need a ski\nYeah, oh (Ayy)\nFrom the back, pull her track (Ayy)\nThen I'ma speed race in that (Skrrt)\nMy mama still got my back (Ayy)\nPull down your pants, I want crack (Yeah)\nI'm growing weed, this ain't trees, bitch\nMy bitch brown like Hennessy, bitch\nBig blood like Freddy in dreams, bitch\nDressed in a tie like the Dean, bitch\nDrunk and in love with my baby\nBaby, do not go fast, go slow, wait (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nTell me, tell me information, I got rank (Tell me)\nLet's take a shot together then lay up like planks (Ayy, ayy)\nNever ever do I wanna leave my lil' lady (Ayy)\nCatch 'em down bad, now they gotta plan 'fore that boy wake (Yeah)\nTold God if I get an iced out watch, I won't be late (I promise)\nEvery time I try to stick it in all the way\nBaby girl be like, \"Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy\" (Haha)\n\"Ayy, ayy\"\n\nCall your friends, let's get drunk (Let's get drunk, ayy)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk (Ayy)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n(Call your friends and let's get drunk)\nCall your friends, let's get drunk\n\nCall your friends and let's get drunk\nCall your friends and let's get drunk, ayy"}
{"text":"Bandana wrapped-wrapped 'round your head\nThe bandana wrapped 'round your head\nFuck niggas, they scared\nAin't nobody triller than me\nAin't nobody triller than Scott\nAin't nobody trill, man, I'm takin' they spot\nYah, these niggas is scared (Ooh)\n\n30's in the city movin' slow\nThirty-thirty-thirty-five hundred for the coat\nOnly-only-only real niggas keep you float (Keep you float)\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\n\n(30's in the city movin' slow)\nLadies order up the champagne, a whole lot of it (Yeah!)\n(Only real niggas keep you float)\nPainkillers, ain't got back pain, know you gotta love it (Yeah!)\nTens out in NY, they in my hallways, I got a lobby of 'em\n(Only trill niggas I know)\nUp and down with Chase, Monday nights, we made a hobby of it (Alright! 30's in the city movin' slow)\nStill down with the same dogs, man, they never loved us\n(Only real niggas keep you float)\nGave my niggas all gold chains to remind me of it (Yeah!)\n(Only trill niggas I know)\nWe're still holdin' that old thing, tryna rob me of it (Oh no!)\nOne time for the trill bitches that'll let me touch it (Score!)\n(Thirties in the city movin' slow)\nI'm papi though, they get it poppin' with me when I'm out in public (Straight up!)\nFlyin' through, I got a young 'Yonc\u00e9 with a Iggy on her (Yeah!)\n(Only trill niggas I know)\nMe and Metro do the same drugs, got a lot of it (Woo!)\nAll these cups and damn, all these hoes\nThese niggas up to somethin' (Oah!)\nTouch down out in H-Town, there it might get ugly (Woo!)\nIt's trill niggas, where it's trill niggas, a whole army of 'em (Woo!)\n(Only trill niggas I know)\nI run the check up, I'm a hot nigga, don't turn my 'countant on me (Yeah!)\nFree Rowdy Rowdy, free Bobby Bobby, them the Shmurda homies, good Lord! (Good Lord! Ooh)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\n30's in the city movin' slow\nThirty-thirty-thirty-five hundred for the coat\nOnly-only-only real niggas keep you float (Keep you float)\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\n30's in the city movin' slow\nThirty-thirty-thirty-five hundred for the coat\nOnly-only-only real niggas keep you float (Keep you float)\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\n\nSmoke with me, drank with me, lean like I'm Clark\nCopping a Wraith then I throw it in park\nYou niggas some marks and you ain't got no heart\nI know lil' one gon' come with that A and that R\n(Only trill niggas I know)\nI know lil' one gon' come with that A and that R\nI'm counting, I'm dripping, I'm fiending\nI'm not from this planet, I was abandoned\nTrill niggas, real niggas, popping them pill niggas\nStack up a mil', nigga, like it's a lil' nigga\nThis for the one who gon' load up that K for me\nThis for the ones that ran off and didn't wait on me\nThis for the niggas ran off and didn't wait on me\nThis for you, bitch, you ran off and didn't wait on me\n(Only trill niggas I know)\nHood nigga, fuck all that red carpet shit\nHood nigga, I fuck a red carpet bitch\nI put a Rolls and a Royce on my wrist\nYou can smell promethazine when I piss\nI pray to God, he bring me Actavis\nAin't nobody triller than Metro, ain't nobody triller than Scooter\nHop on the private, I do it, take all the mollies, I do it\nThe Bentley put up with no mileage, I do it\nThese Styrofoams with me legitimate\nI'm proudly downing these Percocets\nWe just want to be stoners lately, I've been on, on, on\nThis money an option, this weed is an option, this lean is an option\nYour bitch is an option, her bitch is an option\nI send them through auctions\nYou paying that price for that punani\nThis gold on my neck is a new Grammy\n30's in the city movin' slow\nThirty-thirty-thirty-five hundred for the coat\nOnly-only-only real niggas keep you float (Keep you float)\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\n30's in the city movin' slow\nThirty-thirty-thirty-five hundred for the coat\nOnly-only-only real niggas keep you float (Keep you float)\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know (Yeahhh)\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know (2 Chainz)\n\nMy bathtub the size of swimming pools\nBackstroke to my children room\nMaybach in the living room (Ooh)\nI spent racks on these tennis shoes (Tell 'em)\nNiggas know what I'm finna do\nTime for me to put the mink up (I did)\nForgiattos on the Brinks truck\nMy favorite rapper drove a pink truck (Killa)\nI do shit that you dreamed of\nI was born with a mean mug (Damn)\nI was born with some nappy hair\nDrinkin' breast milk out a lean cup\nTity Boi's my alias (Yeah)\nReal niggas my radius (Yeah) (Only trill niggas I\u2014)\nTrill niggas on the song with me\nIf she bad as hell I'll pay the babysitter (I will!)\nIn a black Mercedes with her (Skrrt)\nDoin' about 180 with her (Skrrt)\nI was born a hustler, paraphernalia in my baby pictures\nResident, all elegant (Elegant)\nLeather shit in my front yard (Swear)\nTV by my swimming pool (Swear)\nGot that built like a sports bar (Ayy)\nChevelle with a new motor (Err)\nGot the bitch like a sports car (Yeah)\nYeah, my name is Tity Boi (Oh)\nI don't fuck with hoes that wear sports bras (Nah)\nCrib bigger than your imagination\nCall the trap house the gas station (I did)\nCall momma's house the Jag station (Haha)\nEmoji, sad faces (Damn)\nLook at these niggas (Look!)\nI need to buy pocketbooks for these niggas\n30's the city movin' slow (Punkass)\nThirty-thirty-thirty-five hundred for the coat (3500)\nOnly-only-only real niggas keep you float (Keep you float; Real shit only here)\nOnly trill niggas I know (Nah, for real)\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know (Nah, for real)\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know (Nah, for real)\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know (Ooh)\n30's in the city movin' slow\nThirty-thirty-thirty-five hundred for the coat\nOnly-only-only real niggas keep you float (Keep you float)\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\n\nAin't nobody triller than me, ain't nobody triller than Scott\nAin't nobody trill, man, I'm takin' their spot, yah, we ride on a yacht, yeah\nAin't nobody triller than Metro, ain't nobody triller than Scooter, yeah\nAin't nobody triller, I knew it, ain't nobody triller, we knew it\nPour up in H-Town, them niggas don't play 'round like Jas and Jr\n(Only real niggas keep it float)\nSay fuck all the rumors, say fuck all the rumors\n(Only trill niggas I know)\nSay fuck all the rumors, say fuck all the rumors\n(Only trill niggas I know)\nSay fuck all the rumors, say fuck all the rumors\n\n30's in the city movin' slow\nThirty-thirty-thirty-five hundred for the coat\nOnly-only-only real niggas keep you float (Keep you float)\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know\nOnly trill niggas I know\nOnly-only-only trill niggas I know"}
{"text":"I don't wanna wake up\nI want you spread out on the sheets\nSaid pussy so good\nUh, pussy so sweet, uh\nI don't wanna wake up\nI want it flowin' through my streams\nGettin' me hot\nUnder my feet\nI don't wanna wake up\n\nPlease don't wake me up, I feel it creepin' (Yeah)\nControllin' how you movin', lucid dreamin' (Dreams)\nAlways on the side of different seasons, yeah-yeah\nTook the beltway down to your hood (It's lit)\nSay you was in the crowd, I never looked\nLookin' back how things came back around, guess I was hooked\nBurn the bread and then we burn the town, we both was cooked, yeah\nNah, nah, please don't wake me up, feel like I'm dreamin'\nAny given Sunday, you can get it, Willie Beamen\nI can make your Mondays even better like the weekend (Yeah)\nThat's my Coco, I'm her Ice-T (Coco, yeah, yeah)\nBend her over for some pipin' (It's lit)\nBust a cloud, shoot the lightnin' (Pop it)\nPop it now, know we can't sleep (Sleep)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nI don't wanna wake up (Yeah)\nWant you spread out on the sheets (It's lit)\nSay, pussy so good (Pop it)\nOh, pussy so sweet (Yeah)\nWhen I wake up (Yeah, yeah)\nWant a drop top on the beach (Straight up)\nGettin' me hot, yeah (Yeah)\nUnder my feet\nWhen I wake up\n\nYou decide if I live or die\nWhen you're close, I'm alive, I can feel the sky\nI just want your body close to me, oh\nAnd if I O.D., I'll be alone with no heartbeat\nI hope they kill us with a ghost in the Lambo'\nAnd the doors goin' up, suicide\n\nI don't wanna wake up (I don't wanna wake up)\nI want you spread out on the sheets (Want you spread out on the sheets)\n'Cause that pussy so good (Pussy so good), yeah\nGirl, that pussy so sweet (Pussy so sweet)\nI don't wanna wake up (I don't wanna wake up)\nI want it flowin' through my streams (Want it flowin' through my streams)\nHa, gettin' me hot (Gettin' me hot)\nOh, under my feet (My feet)\nI don't wanna wake up (Yeah)"}
{"text":"\n2 AM, howlin' outside\nLookin', but I cannot find\nDon't you fall asleep this time\nI been on a long way drive\nOnly you can stand my mind\nOnly you can fix inside\nSo if I make it out tonight\nLet's make it a badass time\n\nOkay, I got it, copy\n20\/20 but I can't see nobody\nOne eye open, Illuminati\nThis might be the verse that make 'em drop me\nAin't makin' friends, we just makin' hobbies (Yeah)\nNo, that wasn't my girl, that was just a hobby (Yeah, yeah)\nCall up 50, tell 'em load up the lobby\nElevator up, no need to find me, yeah, yeah\nX-ray vision, see through you niggas\nNewspaper stand, we press the issue (Press it, press it, press the issue)\nWe ain't sendin' shots, we launchin' missiles (Yeah, right up at your hood up north)\nCheckin' Third Ward, I'm goin' mental\nFuckin' up my room, I've been rackin' up incidentals\nCookin' on a tune, I've been cheffin' up instrumentals\nNothin' else to do when you're ridin' in the\nWhen you ridin' in the, in the back of the back seat (Back seat, back seat, back seat, back seat)\nDriver run the miles up like I'm runnin' a track meet (Track meet, track meet, track meet, track meet)\nGotta watch my back now, 'cause these niggas at me\nAll black in a Benz when I pull up on ya\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nThey don't want to see me in the ends, in the ends\nLet me catch you creeping here past 10, in the ends\nFrom a tribe of check-a-hoe like Indian\nOh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah (Eh-hey)\n\nTo them I'm a big dick, a cheque and some laughter (Hahaha)\nI guess it's all survival but please be careful, uh\nI gave up on the Bible long time ago, uh\nOh, I hope it ain't give up on me, I don't know, ha\nI came up in the town, they were murderin' kids, hmm\nAnd dumped 'em in the creek up from where I live (Ayy)\nBodies, bodies, bodies sprinkled around (Uh, uh)\nWe runnin' through the sprinkler lookin' around\nKiller would show up with boxes of pizza, uh\nAnd said he had a label recruitin' people (Uh)\nPut that on my grandma and everything, yeah\nMy homie said he told 'em his name was Wayne\nIt could've been me or could've been you too\nBut what a memory, it may need interludes (Could've been me)\nWhat's gon' patch up my inner tube\nSo I could pop a wheelie and walk it too\n\nOh yeah, La Flame with the nappy fro' now, yeah\nIn the ends, I'ma kick your door down, oh yeah\nWe keep wildin' out the Mo' now, oh yeah\nKeep that 300 Z-Ro when I pull up on ya"}
{"text":"\nYeah\nTensions is definitely rising\nT'd up right now\nT time, T time\nT time, T time, T time\n\nTeatime like I got a cup of this shit\nTee time like golf at a quarter to six\nI love to fuck on a regular bitch\nFamous hoes lame, but they stay on my dick\nHeard your new joint, it's embarrassing, shit\nYou talk to the cops on some therapist shit\nYou act like you love this American shit\nBut, really, the truth is you scared of the 6\nYeah, you scared of the 6\nYeah, you scared of the 6\nYour bodyguard put in some work on a fluke\nNow you wanna go and inherit that shit\nDon't talk to the boy 'bout comparisons, shit\nOr come to the boy on some arrogant shit\nThe weapons we got are some terrorist shit\nLike TV producers we, grr, we airing this shit\nShe askin' for bread for her parents and shit\nI told her I don't got no cash and she said she could wait on a rack, on some Arabic shit\nI pull out a million and stare at the shit\nMy dick just got hard 'cause a wire just hit\nMy schedule is out, come spin us, for real\nMan, fuck all that spinnin' the narrative shit\nI melt down the chains that I bought from yo' boss\nGive a fuck about all of that heritage shit\nSince V not around, the members done hung up the Louis, they not even wearing that shit\nDon't come to the boy 'bout repairing some shit\nDon't come to the boy about sparing some shit\nYou lucky that Vogue was suing 'cause I would've been with the Wassas in Paris and shit\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\n\n(I-I\u2014)\n\nIs you fuckin' crazy? Is you fuckin' crazy? (Ah)\nAnd they scared of the seven (Seven)\nAfter one-three then we turn up eleven (Yeah)\nKeep this shit open like 7-Eleven (It's lit)\nMe at the house, I got seven in heaven\nThey think I'm satanic, I keep me a reverend\nLil' shawty a therapist (yeah), poppin' her shit\nShe inching my way then she started confessing\nI know what's at stake, I'm screamin', \"Free Jeffery\"\nConnect collect calls right off of the celly\nGave her the blues, not talkin' 'bout belly\nDon't keep it sincere, I go Makaveli\nI got the juice, now it's heavy (Juice)\nAlways on t-time, been ready (T, ah), yeah\nIs you fucking crazy? Is you f\u2014 (Yeah, stoned, let's go)\nWrappin' the cheese, wrap around me 'cause I've got property (Wrap, cheese, wrap)\nChocolate AP and chocolate the Vs (Vs), got the Willy Wonka factory (Vs)\nBurn a athlete like it's calories, find another flame hot as me, bitch\n\n(Ooh)\n\nYeah, is you fucking crazy? (Nah)\nIs you fucking crazy? (What?)\nIs you fucking crazy? (Nah, nah)\nIs you fucking crazy? Yeah\nIs you fucking crazy or what?\nIs you fuckin', is you fuckin'\nIs you fucking crazy?\n\nHow many Texas boys done ran it up? A couple, maybe (Couple, maybe)\nSwanging in the pickup truck, baby, fuck Mercedes (Fuck Mercedes)\nI'll fuck a nigga bitch but she can't have the baby (Have the baby)\nI'll shoot your ass in Walmart like I'm DaBaby (In Walmart)\nThe boy going Lionel Messi, I go Tom Brady (Woo)\nUsed to wear the bust down back in my old days (Woo)\nNow I let the chains hang, you gotta tuck yours maybe (Tuck it, tuck it)\nNiggas talkin' Scarface, I'm that in real life (Ooh)\nIs you fucking crazy or what? Is you fucking crazy? (Fuckin' crazy)\nMan, the club ain't been the same since we lost Mercedes (Straight up)\nMan, the clique ain't been the same since they lost the greatest (Nah, nah, nah)\nWe outside with the army, so you need the (Uh-huh)\nThem boys rollin' all brown like they whippin' gravy\nMake a circus outside like it's Barnum's Bailey (It's lit)\nBlickey hanging on my side, it's like it's really hanging (Blickey, blickey, blaow)\nShe move her panties to the side, she want it raw when faded (Huh? Huh? Huh? Huh?)\nIs you fucking crazy? Uh\nIs you fucking crazy? Uh\nIs you fucking crazy or what?\nIs you fucking crazy? Yeah\nIs you fucking crazy or what?\nIs you fuckin', is you fuckin'\nIs you fucking crazy?"}
{"text":"What's crackin'? You already know who it is\nIt's your boy, Big Tuck, Freight Train Tuck\nASTROWORLD is now in session, you understand?\nI'm the dean of this here, I got this\n\nYeah, yeah\nParked at the Days Inn, ain't takin' no days in, yeah (Yeah)\nDon't need a vacation, I need a replacement, uh (Alright)\nBustin' the lights out soon as we came in, yeah (It's lit)\nWhat're they talkin' about, what's it pertainin'? (Yeah, yeah)\nNeed me a therapist to ask if I'm aging (Yah)\nThis M-E-D, it feel caved in (Yah)\nAll of my demons invadin'\nI live paranoid, hesitatin'\nThey bitin', they bitin' the cadence (Skrrt, skrrt)\nGo out their way, it's okay (Skrrt, skrrt)\nJust lock the doors at the basement (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI got a gate with my face in it\n\nBrand new, brand new, this new place I got to\nNew world, new sky that's so blue it's black too (Yeah, yeah)\nNew growth, new growth, all these fades I outgrew\nBlue bands, blue bands, get my cash from drive-thru\nBoy, you too flash, too flash, keep the flash minimal (Ooh, ooh)\nBitch, I'm too cold, too cold, see my breath visible\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nYeah\nIcy cold, it is so, it is so icy cold, yeah\nMixing the water with cheese is making the money get mold, yeah\nTrying to be like gang, you better go get it in Vogue, yeah\nPut '84s on lanes, I ride by, you think it is spokes ('Pokes), uh\nWe did it, we said it, we spoke ('Poke), yeah\nWe put it out, thought it was smoke, this 504, uh\nThis is at home, right down the street, from Alamo\n\nMoving in silence don't mean it's movin' slow\nEven though the speed got old\nSprinkling methamphetamines on the leaves like the snow\nBet they soak\nI'm a new species, tail swings on the road\nCome to reach and lose both\nGot springs like a toad\nSome for free in the tote\nSak\u00e9 drown like round white diamonds, carats (Yeah)\nCopy sound, might got two wings, parrot (Alright)\nLanding downwind, caught two wings (It's lit)\nTalons scrape, hit the stage, two wings (Yeah, yeah)\nBetter pray, better pray, two wings (Straight up)\n\nBrand new, brand new, this new place I got to\nNew world, new sky that's so blue it's black too\nNew growth, new growth, all these fades I outgrew\nBlue bands, blue bands, get my cash from drive-thru\nBoy, you're too flash, too flash, keep the flash minimal\nBitch, I'm too cold, too cold, see my breath visible"}
{"text":"Yeah\nYeah-yeah, yeah\nMmm-hmm, mmm-hmm\nMmm-hmm, mmm-hmm\n\nYup, in my white tee\nYeah, call up Hype Williams for the hype,\u2005please\nUh,\u2005they gon' wipe\u2005you before you wipe me\nOn boxes\u2005of checks, not my Nikes (Yeah)\n\nCacti, not no iced tea (Hah)\nUh, got 'em bamboozled like I'm Spike Lee (Ah)\nUh, you need more than Google just to find me (Ah)\nUh, I just call her \"bae\" to get her hyphy (Ah, ooh)\nIncredible, icki-icki, in general\nI just start the label just to sign me (Woo, woo, ooh)\nUh, me and CHASE connected like we Siamese\n(Woo, woo, woo, ooh, ooh, oooh)\nUh, we've been on the run, feel like a crime spree, talk to me nicely (Yeah)\nI seen his face, seen it (Ayy), yup, on his white tee, uh (Let's go)\n\nYeah, yup, call the Sprite people (Call 'em, hol' on, brrt)\nPrivate flight to France, tryna sight-see (On private flights, brrat)\nPopped 'em in his hands, he was typin' (Da, da, da)\nCaterpillar 'Rari, I fold it, lift it up (Up)\nI went on the stand, told the judge to pass my cup (Ayy)\nRan up twenty million, told the Devil, \"Keep the luck\" (Luck)\nKeep that, keep that ho (Uh) R.I.P. Pop, keep the smoke (Ayy, slatt)\nTalk to me nicely (Talk to me nicely)\nKeep her on a chain, that ain't like me (That ain't like me)\nScotts with no strings, you can't tie me (Scotts with the, hol' on, bitch)\nI'm higher than the plane, I'm where the Skypes be (Doo, doo, doo, doo, hee)\nYeah, yep, in my slime tee (Doo, doo, doo, hee)\nPrincey in his prime, yee (Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, hee)\nYellowbone too feisty, yee (Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, hee)\nClean him up, no napkin, yee (Doo)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nYup, in my white tee (Yeah)\nYeah, call up Hype Williams for the hype, please (It's lit)\nUh, they gon' wipe you before you wipe me (Phew)\nOn boxes of checks, not my Nikes (Ooh, yeah)\n'Scuse me, zi-zi-zi-zi-zi-zi-zi-zi, don't be missin' man\nMississippi, dip a sippy, make 'em happy, make 'em copy\nMake 'em get me Chippi Chippi (Yeah)\nThere's a lot I'm gon' spend\nTell me when, I beam you to pull up, you gon' shootout while I spin\nTrippin' like I'm trigger happy; saltfish, ackee, ackee\nGolf buggy, Kawasaki; catch a fish: sushi, maki, livin' life\nLondon city, left the town (Ah)\nThug and Travis be the fam\n\nYup, yeah, you know that (Slatt)\nAnd when they free us out, it's gonna be a film, a Kodak (Yeah)\nShoot me pourin' right above the rim like Pollack\nI've been rippin' and runnin', not slippin' or slidin', athletic tendencies\nI've been up since, cheffin' it, whippin' it to the base rock, I provide the remedy (Let's go)\nWhen we open gates up at Utopia (It's lit), it's like Zootopia\nYou see the crosses over ya (Yeah), that's how you know it's us\nAt 4 A.M. I'm phonin' ya', not for no shoulder rub\nThem JACKBOYS open cleaners up, the way they fold and tuck\nYup, in my white tee (Yeah)\nYeah, call up Hype Williams for the hype, please\nYeah, they gon' wipe you before you wipe me\nYeah, on boxes of checks, not my-, checks, not my\n(Maya!) I be where the fuck the light be\nBangers in the system, it's\nBangers in the system, it's\nAncient Anunnaki\nBangers in the system, it's that\nBangers in the system, it's that\nM.I.A.\u200b"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, ooh)\nFeels like slow motion, we're floating at the speed (Yeah)\n(Yeah, yeah)\nLouder (Louder)\nHigher, higher, higher, higher, higher (Uh, yeah)\nIt's like standing in the ocean\n\nWe just rocked Coachella, I gave her half of the check\nIt was good sex, honorable mention to the neck\n(Just let this wash on me)\nDidn't pass the loud, that was out of respect\nAfterwards, pass the towel, I was out of Kleenex (In the memory, standing in the ocean)\nIf you take your girl out, do you expect sex?\nIf she take her titties out, do you expect checks?\nFirst visit, I gave her a pearl necklace (Just let this wash on me)\nNext visit, I'ma need your girl naked (Feels like slow motion)\nTook a church visit, you know, 'cause the world hectic\n\nLike floating, if I can't be in time\nI don't know, I don't know (Wash on me, wash on me, yeah)\nIn the ocean, if I can't be loved\nI don't know a sound\n(That's right)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nStanding in the ocean (Standing in the ocean)\nJust let this wash on me (Ooh)\nBad memories like waves\nEchoing (Echoing), echoing\nStanding in the ocean (Oh, baby)\nStanding in the ocean\nFeels like slow motion, we're floating at the speed"}
{"text":"High off life, yeah\n\nSeem like the life I fiend\nSeem like the life I fiend's a little distant, yeah\nSeems like the life I need, yeah\nSeems like the life I need's a little distant, yeah\n\nLight the remedy, yeah\nSit back while I ride the deep, do it on repeat, repeat\nSins controlling me, yeah\nAngels, halos over me, I need blessings and my peace\nYou been out the streets, yeah\nWildin' on me and all my G's, we been going for a week\nNow you wanna peek, yeah\nHands up, why they tryna reach? I can't even get that deep\nTold you, I don't teach (Yeah)\nPractice, oh, no, never preach\nPractice, oh, no, never preach\nInfiltrate the enemy, moving on them randomly\n\nFeels like the life I need's a little distant, yeah\nYeah\nFeels like the life I need, yeah\nFeels like the life I need's a little distant, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeahSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like"}
{"text":"(Woah-o-o-oah)\nYeah, boy\n(Woah-o-o-oah)\nYeah, boy\n(Woah-o-o-oah)\nYeah, boy\n(Woah-o-o-oah)\nDon't wet no more\n\nI need fake niggas to get way back\nJames Harden with the range on me, nigga, way back\nHomie started switchin' lanes, I thought we went way back (Woo)\nI can't get no rest (We in the house)\nI fall asleep with a TEC (Rack)\nStashin' all the pills in my desk (Rack)\nWearin' every chain on my neck (We in the house, come on)\nI can't get no rest (Come on)\nI ride around with a TEC (Champ)\nStashin' all the pills in my desk (Champ)\nWearin' every chain on my neck (Go crazy on 'em)\n\nWoah, wait\nIt's summertime, why they tryna throw shade?\nAll these wins, I can never Golden State (Yeah)\nUFC, I'm tapping to my old ways (Alright)\nI'm addressing shit like I'm on Waze\nShowed ya love, ain't show it back in, okay\nLike the girl, that she go both ways\nDropped the Rodeo, I dodged a bull like ol\u00e9\nHopped in the Bronco, skrrt off like OJ (Yeah, woah-o-o-oah)\nFlew with that sound, nigga, got that Coldplay (Woah-o-o-oah)\nI be (Yeah) makin' mills, made it to a hobby (It's lit)\nDon't bring that to the crib, keep that in the lobby\nYou never seen the city unless you land at Hobby\nOh, so loaded off the pills so don't ever try me\nSo if you see me solo dolo, you know what that mean\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nI need fake niggas to get way back (Way back)\nJames Harden with the range on me, nigga, way back\nHomie started switchin' lanes, I thought we went way back (Woo)\nI can't get no rest (We in the house)\nI fall asleep with a TEC (Rack)\nIf I take a sip, take the rest (Rack)\nWearin' every chain on my neck (We in the house, come on)\nI can't get no rest (Come on)\nI ride around with a TEC (Champ)\nStashin' all the pills in my desk (Champ)\nWearin' every chain on my neck (Go crazy on 'em, we in the house)\n\n\nLook, boy, boy, don't believe what's on your TV\nLook, boy, don't you sit close to the TV\nLook, boy, seeing is believing\nLook, boy, look, boy (Yeah)\n\nWould it be unlawful (Yeah)\nTo spend this honeymoon in a brothel?\nAnd share pics from the camera\nBut they'll be quick to turn that into a scandal\nI'm down in the Meadows\nSlidin' down the Waterfall, creep to the ghetto\nNeed my Rio de Janeiro\nAnd I'm swimmin' out that bitch, Michael Phelps with the medals\nSo visit me (Yeah)\nI just built a castle deep (Yeah, yeah)\nIn them trees (Yeah)\nThat's how I get them backwoods free (Yeah, yeah)\nThis right here some savagery (Yeah, yeah)\nBend it back from me (Yeah, yeah)\nWay, way back for me (Yeah, yeah)\nWay, way back for me\nWay, way back for me\nWay, way back for me\nWoah-o-oa-oah\nWoah"}
{"text":"Because it's the last ride that I'm ever gonna, that I'm ever gonna take at AstroWorld\nWoah, woah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nLook at your Rollie, uh, look at my Rollie, uh\nThat's a small face, uh, this a big face, uh\nShe can't see my room, fuck her in the hallway\nGettin' bored with this money, count it all day\n\nYeah, they thought we were soft, boy, you learned the hard way\nNot with all the talkin', turned it to a closed case\nLook, pull up Sky Dweller, and it's vanilla\nAll white, that Plain Jane, yeah\nThe rose gold one better, hundred or better\nI took the money and flooded my bezel\nYou diamond to rock, computed the settin'\nVVS diamonds, they pop just like kettle\nI popped a molly to get on my level\nRockin' that Ricky and Raf, here my sweater\nYeah, Patek Philippe, it cloudy like Heaven\nMet her at 10, fucked that girl at 11\nFake diamonds in your Rollie, how you reckon?\nDiamond tester, nigga, you better check it, yeah\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nLook at your Rollie, uh, look at my Rollie, uh\nThat's a small face, uh, this a big face, uh\nShe can't see my room, fuck her in the hallway (Yeah)\nGettin' bored with this money, count it all day\n\nOn the south side of town gettin' me a bald fade, uh (Yeah)\nPass her some stuff, we can down it all, take, uh (It's lit)\nNo, can't trust her, she gon' leave us all laced (Laced)\nBust a bankroll in the club, where's Chase? (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nLike woah (Yeah, yeah, alright)\nYeah, they really want my soul (Yeah)\nThat can never go (Straight up)\nAngel in the snow (White)\nAlways leave me cold (Ice)\nLeave it on the floor but she's slidin' from the pole (What?)\nLike woah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nReally on speed (Yeah, cash)\nYou and ivory is all I need (Skrrt-skrrt)\nAll agreed, we gon' skip the tees, go bare like trees (Trees)\nIt's stuck in heat, link up with the dawgs and then we flee\nWay this summer goin', I might start my summer league (League)\nEvery young nigga get a check and get a team\nYeah, man's on the front line 'cause man's on his deen (Yeah)\nNo small faces, it's just an AP beamin' (Yeah, yeah)\nLook at your Rollie, uh, look at my Rollie, uh\nThat's a small face, uh, this a big face, uh\nShe can't see my room, fuck her in the hallway (Yeah)\nGettin' bored with this money, count it all day\n\nLook at my Rollie, look at your Rollie\nYour shit rockless, my shit hockey goalie\nYou should gon' hide it, man, it's too bad\nLike a bald nigga still wearin' durags, ha\nIsraeli guards, boy, please be mindful\nDon't have words with me 'cause I got a mind filled\nI could tell Larry David was the mind behind Seinfeld\nWanna know how I feel? Step into my minefield\nWanna know how pain feels? I got off my main pills\nBet my wifey stay close, she know I'm on my Bezos\nOpioid addiction, pharmacy's the real trap\nSometimes I feel trapped, Jordan with no Phil Jack\nOne year, it's Illuminati, next year, it's the Sunken Place\nThey don't want me to change, nah, nigga run in place\nI need someone else to make this drink, because\nYou don't understand the juice to vodka ratio\nThat could satisfy a real drunk, guess what?\nNever trust a bartender that don't drink, bitch\nWe have bust-down Rollies, bust-down Pateks\nAnd I told him I needed him to bust down our new baby"}
{"text":"\nWhen I stare in your eyes\nYou'll be there forever\nTo watch our life (To watch our life together)\nYou just like going to Heaven (My heart)\nOh, where are you taking me? (Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah)\nI'm fallin' and I'm drownin'\nBut you're takin' me\n\nOne thousand on my feet, stacks spreaded on my seat\nTen thousand on my eyes (Eyes)\n\nRollie Pollie on my wrist\nGotta make a flight, big day, slummin' no FaceTime\nFifty K, wonderin' why I'm stormin' off, no race\nEmbold\u0435ned by the bliss\nI was sworn in by a kiss\nLate from th\u0435 country caters\nNo peacemaker, I sweep up cases\nGoin' on a walk with a new suit armor\nNew suit dead, Bottega, that's on it\nGive me the heat from the sleep, then I harm her\nCupid creep in, sleep with a hammer\nThree time to get me T-T-T'd\nStill same phone, AT&T-T\nStill givin' news very vividly\nBeefin' up, fuck a beef\nSmokin' on some vicious type of reefer\nI need no beef, no cheese (Yeah)\nEven when I eat, they cheat (Uh)\nEvery time we meet, naive\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nWhen I stare in your eyes\nYou'll be there forever\nTo watch our life (To watch our life together)\nYou just like going to Heav\u2014 (My heart)\n\nOne thousand on my feet, stacks spreaded on my seat\nTen thousand on my eyes (Eyes)\n\nYeah, it's mad how it gets so deep\nIt's mad how I get so high\nIt's mad how you get me by (By)\n\nTell me, tell me\nTell me, tell me\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nIt's me, it's me, it's me, it's me, it's me\n\nLook in my eyes, tell me your tale\nDo you see the road, the map to my soul?\nLook, tell me the signs whenever the smoke clear out of my face\nAm I picture-perfect or do I look fried?\nAll of that green and yellow, that drip from your eyes is tellin'\nTell you demise, I went to my side\nTo push back the ceilin' and push back the feelings, I had to decide\nI replay them nights, and right by my side, all I see is a sea of people that ride wit' me\nIf they just knew what Scotty would do to jump off the stage and save him a child\nThe things I created became the most weighted, I gotta find balance and keep me inspired (Hah)\nYeah, yeah\nThat shit wild, instead I'm a hero\nI took it from zero, LaFlame Usain\nI run it for miles, this shit wasn't luck\nThey got me fucked up, I put you on bus and take you around\nA couple of guys inside of the school, I gave 'em the tools to get it off ground\nThey say they the ones when they make the errors\nCan't look in the mirror (That shit wild)\nI stand on the stage, I give 'em the rage\nNo turnin' it down, can't tame it, can't follow it\nWe do in the streets, we do it for keeps\nWe do it for rights, got fifty-two weeks\nThis shit ain't for pleasure, I'm comin' to tweak\nThis shit is forever and infinity\nNumber eight, yeah, we write it and wrap it around\nI take me a bean and I turn to a beast\nBought the crib on a hill, made it harder to reach\nBought a couple more whips 'cause I needed more speed\nBought a couple more watches, I needed more time\nDidn't buy the condo, it was smarter to lease\nAnd I bought some more ice 'cause I brought in the heat\nMade a cast of my dick, so she never gon' cheat\nIf I gave you a day in my life or a day in my eyes, don't blink"}
{"text":"What, what?\nMamacita, 'cita, 'cita\nWoah-oh-oh, woah, woah-oh-oh\nMamacita, 'cita, 'cita\nWoah-oh-oh, woah, woah-oh-oh\n\nThis the last days to the rodeo\nLast night had me down in the back, comatose\nDon't think sunshades and a pill gon' help\nOnce I'm gone, can't tame myself (Myself, myself)\nMamacita, 'cita, 'cita\nYou know I really need ya\nNeed ya, need ya right now\nShe get freaky when the light's down\nThe shit's crack, no way niggas could pipe down\nWith the head first, got her straight out of the nightgown\nNothin' like the light-skinned mamacitas in H-Town\nThey got them pornstar big booties\nLet me film it, then shoot it\n3D money, no illusion\nDepending if I'm feelin' bougie\nMight hit your line, bitch\n\nHad to cut my phone off\nBitch got it vibratin' on me like a beeper (Brrr)\nBoy, I'm in Colorado smokin' California reefer (Ha)\nHey, the bitch so bad\nCaught a ticket 'cause I really wanna meet her (Ha)\n(Really wanna meet her, wanna meet her)\nHey, and I ain't kin to Wayne but that my mamacita, hey\n(Mamacita, mamacita, what? What?)\nMamacita, mama, mama, my mamacita (Woo)\n(Mamacita, 'cita, 'cita)\nThat's my, my mama, mamacita (Woo)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (Woo)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (Racks)\n(Mamacita, 'cita, 'cita)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (What?)\nThat's my, that's my, mamacita\nThat's my, that's my mamacita\nThat's my\u2014\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nMotherfuckin' girl, I love her\nI'ma give her the world (Woo)\nAyy, fuck her, I wanna fuck her mother (Woo)\nI just might give her my little girl (Woo)\nNo, no, I won't let go, bro, bad ho\nShe look the best with a 'fro (Woo)\nNatural nat-nat on go (Woo)\nDamn, Quan, turn on the stove (Woo)\nWhip it 'til I have a stroke (Woo)\nI do not fuck with America (Woo)\nI get it straight off the boat (Brr)\nOh, damn (Woo)\nThe kush, it never make me choke\nSlow down\nI'm speedin' and I got a trunk full of wham (Woo)\nDamn, twenty-five thousand on an old school Cam\nSS me, these bitches wan' molest me\nDamn, they'll sex me, she a lesbian\nShe want chicken like sesame\nAnd she tryin' to undress me, test me\nGive her hotel keys like Cassidy, you dig? (Hey)\n\nHad to cut my phone off\nBitch got it vibratin' on me like a beeper (Brrr)\nBoy, I'm in Colorado smokin' California reefer (Ha)\nHey, the bitch so bad\nCaught a ticket 'cause I really wanna meet her (Ha)\n(Really wanna meet her, wanna meet her)\nHey, and I ain't kin to Wayne but that's my mamacita, hey\n(Mamacita, mamacita, what? What?)\nMamacita, mama, mama, my mamacita (Woo)\n(Mamacita, 'cita, 'cita)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (Woo)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (Woo)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (Racks)\n(Mamacita, 'cita, 'cita)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (What?)\nThat's my, that's my, mamacita\nThat's my, that's my mamacita\nThat's my\u2014\nBad little college ho that I got on the east skirts of Decatur\n(What you talkin' 'bout, Rich Homie?)\nBest believe that she cover Rich Homie Quan like a blazer (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\nI smoke a lot of weed, keep my music turned up\nFuck my neighbors (I know they can't fucking stand me, nigga)\nI fuck a nigga bitch and turn her like a table (Ha)\nAyy, I'm still practicin' so you know I'm gettin' greater (I swear to God)\nAyy, still wearin' long socks and shorts like Fabo (D4, D4, D4)\nAyy, He was hatin' at first, now he tryna make the payroll (Tryna get some money)\nAyy, got a stupid bitch who'll do whatever I say so (Hey)\nAyy (Ayy), money on your head like a Jesus piece (What?)\nRight now I'm higher than Khalifa be (Gone)\nBad bitch lookin' like a Filipina (Bad)\nOoh, you're killin' me (Ha), ooh (What?)\nRemember me\nYou (You), finna be (What?)\nDeceased if you keep callin' me (Hey)\n\nTherefore I had to cut my phone off\nBitch got it vibratin' on me like a beeper (Brrr)\nBoy, I'm in Colorado smokin' California reefer (Ha)\nHey, the bitch so bad\nCaught a ticket 'cause I really wanna meet her (Ha)\n(Really wanna meet her, wanna meet her)\nHey, and I ain't kin to Wayne but that's my mamacita, hey\n(Mamacita, mamacita, what? What?)\nMamacita, mama, mama, my mamacita (Woo)\n(Mamacita, 'cita, 'cita)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (Woo)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (Woo)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (Racks)\n(Mamacita, 'cita, 'cita)\nThat's my mama, mamacita (What?)\nThat's my, that's my, mamacita\nThat's my, that's my mamacita"}
{"text":"Mhm\n\nI might need me some ventilation\nA lil' vacation, Houstonfornication\nMind redefine new renovations\nSpace coupe back out of the space station\nFloat around town, do that on the daily\n\nHow I'm supposed to feel safe? 12 live adjacent (12)\nYeah, crib built like a prison where that bitch is gated (Yah)\nYeah, spendin' all my time up there gettin' faded (It's lit)\nYeah, handin' out the E! to the Entertainment (Alright)\nYeah, you know on this side it's poppin' and it's dangerous (Pop it, pop it)\nRidin' through the clouds, we goin' through the vapors (Phew, phew)\nI'm just tryna get the paper, stayin' out the papers\nIt ain't easily done, it ain't easy (Yeah)\nPop a seal like it's Chris, make it look Breezy (It's lit)\nWeddin' bands on my fist, shit is freezing (Straight up)\nThrow the bands, get a kiss, then she leave me (Cash)\nI just want the peace, it's still Lambo' over Mercedes, yeah (Skrrt, skrrt)\nJust built the Astroworld playground to play with my baby, yeah (My baby)\nHad a few pop singers, anyone could be your mama (Yeah)\nHad some real conversations with my nigga Bill about Congress, yeah (Straight up)\nWe at the fest', come and link, per-request, yeah (Alright)\nSend the pin, drop it in, GPS, yah (Yeah)\nSeein' flashes, oh, no-nah, that's my neck, yah (It's lit)\nI've been livin' paranoid, watch your step, uh (Yeah, yeah)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nAin't never freein' up and never let y'all, man\nWe always forgive, but don't forget easily (Oh, no)\nCut my phone off so they can never reach me\nLife is just a maze, goin' through my phases (Yeah)\n\nI might need me some ventilation\nA lil' vacation, Houstonfornication\nMind redefine new renovations\nSpace coupe back out of the space station\nIf it rise on the East, land on the West\nWe gon' make that shit pop, bust it for a check\nCall the plays, link the squad, we gon' make it cash (Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip)\n\nYeah, nobody can press me but the press, uh\nNobody can check me when it's chess, uh (Ah, nah, for real)\nThey comin' at my neck like Gillette, uh (Gillette)\nI'm hard to catch, that's the butterfly effect, yeah\nI've been locked in for so long, I done got dreads, uh\nTook the girl off the network then up the net, uh\nIced out watches for the gang, Patek the set\nHad to move up off my block, it took finesse, yeah\nJust keep droppin' them bombs, you should probably save your breath, yeah\nWe ain't gon' play the steel, why you tryna funk the flex? Yeah\nAll my dogs in my will, they gon' ride through to the death, yeah\nElevator up the hill, we ain't never take the steps, uh (Yeah, yeah)\nAin't never freein' up and never let y'all, man\nWe always forgive, but don't forget easily (Oh, no)\nCut my phone off so they can never reach me\nLife is just a maze, goin' through my phases (Yeah)\n\nI might need me some ventilation\nA lil' vacation, Houstonfornication\nMind redefine new renovations\nSpace coupe back out of the space station\nIf it rise on the East, land on the West\nWe gon' make that shit pop, bust it for a check\nCall the plays, link the squad, we gon' make it cash"}
{"text":"(Ya know? Southside)\nRest in peace to Screw, tonight, we take it slowly (Yeah)\nI'm gonna let you know the move\nI'm gonna let you know the move\nI'm gonna take you on a cruise\nI'm gonna take you home and screw\n(Southside)\n\nAnd that's all I've been sayin' (Southside)\nIf you fall for the games, then you're the one playin'\nBecause it's too much money out here\nAnd there's too many honeys out here\nFeel like I tripped off the drank, that's weird\nFeel like I tripped off the drank, that's weird\n\nRest in peace to Screw, tonight, we take it slowly\nOh my God, I just can feel the love\nDrop top with the windows up\n\nJump inside, oh, won't you roll with us?\nMake the devil bite the angel dust\nShawty got a thing for us, shawty, what you want?\nTell me what you like, tell me what you want\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nRest In Peace to Screw, tonight, we take it slowly, yeah (Ooh-ooh)\nI just took a four to the head like man (Ooh-ooh)\nDrop the top on the slab like man (Ooh-ooh)\nOff the top of the dome like man (Ooh-ooh)\nNothin' beatin' home like man (Ooh-ooh)\nIn the Screw tape zone like man (Ooh-ooh)\nI go Pimp C on the phone like man (Ooh-ooh)\nFlip say platinum, don't do chrome like man\nHad the Southside fade, now let the braids hang\nThis shit S.U.C. smooth like man\nRest In Peace, Screw, like man\n\nRest in peace to Screw, tonight we take it slowly\nOh my God, I just can feel the love\nDrop top with the windows up\n\nScrew found international sound because\nThroughout the South, and it's new to, um\nShawty got a thing for us"}
{"text":"Ayy, Travis Scott\nAyy-ayy-ayy-ayy-ayy, Trav\nYou know what the fuck up, nigga?\nKnow what I'm talkin' 'bout?\nNigga, nigga, one thing for sure\nTwo things for certain, nigga\nWe gon' keep drinking this motherfucking lean, nigga\nAnd wearin' these motherfuckin' Rockstar jeans, nigga\nThey want what a nigga can't stand\nI know what they can't stand\nI know why they mad, nigga\nKnow what I'm talkin' 'bout?\nBut we don't give a fuck, yeah\nWe gon' keep this big ass MAC-11 on deck\nIf any fuck nigga get out of line\nIf any fuck nigga want do somethin', nigga, we can do it, nigga\nKnow what I'm talkin' 'bout?\n\nCoordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (Yeah, yeah)\nI'ma need some more, need some more if I really wanna feel it (Yeah, yeah)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nSpend that money fast if I had to\nMake that money back if I have you (It's lit)\nCoordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (Straight up)\nCoordinate the xan with the lean in my Rockstar skinnies (Yeah, yeah)\nCoordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (Yeah, yeah)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nHighway, dip in traffic\nTwo gears, automatic\nLeave the strip club tragic\nTwo broads going at it (It's lit)\nMe and Jacques going brazy\nMe and Chase going brazy (Straight up)\nSmashin' off your old lady (Yeah)\nEverythin' all gravy (Yeah)\nCoordinate the tan in the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (It's lit)\nPour a little more if you really wanna feel it (Straight up)\nForeign little broad and I really wanna hit it\nI'ma take her to the back rah\n\nCoordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies\nI'ma need some more, need some more if I really wanna feel it\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nSpend that money fast if I had to (Yeah)\nMake that money back if I have you (It's lit)\nCoordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies (Straight up)\nCoordinate the xan with the lean in my Rockstar skinnies, yeah (Straight up)\nCoordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies, yeah\n(Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nAin't nobody outchea goin' hard for ya\nOutchea goin' hard for ya (Straight up)\nYou've been workin' out, you're goin' hard for ya, yeah\nYou've been goin' hard for ya\nYou might fear my ideas\nWhen it's time to pop pills and pop seals (It's lit)\nWhen I run a fire drill, you're right here\nEverytime we drop out, we drop chills (Straight up)\nTryna tell ya\nAin't nobody outchea goin' hard for ya (Yeah, yeah)\nOutchea goin' hard for ya (Yeah, yeah)\nYou've been workin' out, you're goin' hard for ya, yeah (Yeah, yeah)\nYou've been goin' hard for ya (Yeah, yeah)\n\nCoordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies\nI'ma need some more, need some more if I really wanna feel it\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nSpend that money fast if I had to\nMake that money back if I had you\nCoordinate the tan with the beans in my Rockstar skinnies\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"Woo\n\nMe and my bitch, I swear we like the same sex (Woo)\nFuck with all my chains on, let's have chain sex (Serve, yeah)\nHangin' with the gang, you get your fangs wet (Wet)\nWanna kick with the gang? You gotta bang it (It's lit)\nIf you gon' throw ice on, gotta swang it (Ice)\nHoles in the wall, I cannot hang it (Nah)\nPour different colors, sippin' tainted (Ooh)\nWoah, think the vibe just start vibratin' (Vibe)\n\nDon't do playgrounds, we do not swing sets (Swing)\nShawty got the 'K, don't entertain threats (Pew, pew)\nShawty came my way, she brought the same sex (Same)\nBust it down, she talkin' body language (It's lit)\nEatin' that punane, got my bangs wet (Eat it up)\nWe gon' have to change for the banquet (Drippin')\nSolo with Mulsanne, it's not the same specs (Skrrt, skrrt)\nPull up, left with somethin' I ain't came with (Alright)\n\nWoah, woah, woah, woah, woah\nWoah, woah, woah, woah\nIce froze, glow\nGet glow, get glow (Yeah, yeah)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nThree main bitches thinkin' they my main bitch (21, 21)\nHit the club and swap the hoes I came with (Straight up, straight up)\nDon't you come outside, we on that gang shit (Straight up, straight up)\nHad to switch my T-shirt 'cause she stained it (On God)\nHad to buy a visa, she from Moscow (21)\nFuckin' 'round with Travis, you get crossed out (Crossed out)\nHe used to be on, that nigga off now (He off now)\nI done got so rich, I Saint Laurent my dawgs now (Straight up, straight up)\nEarrings cost a quarter, certified by G.I.A. (21)\nIf it's 'bout my bae or 'bout some smoke, I'm on my way (Skrrt-skrrt)\nYour bitch gave the Kid Cudi, but I'm not signed to Ye (On God)\nI nutted on her cheek, her new nickname is Babyface (21, woo)\n\nMe and my bitch, I swear we like the same sex (Woo)\nFuck with all my chains on, let's have chain sex (Serve, yeah)\nHangin' with the gang, you get your fangs wet (Wet)\nWanna kick with the gang? You gotta bang it (It's lit, yah, yah, yah, bang, yah, yah, yah)\nIf you gon' throw ice on, gotta swang it (Ice)\nHoles in the wall, I cannot hang it (Nah)\nPour different colors, sippin' tainted (Ooh)\nWoah, think the vibe just start vibratin' (Vibe)"}
{"text":"Nine light years away, just outside of the Kepler solar system\nWe find ourselves consumed and utterly mesmerized\nWith a story of a young rebel against the system\nRefusing to conform or comply to the ways of authority\nHe chose the mood of \"Fuck this shit\"\nAt that moment, the one known as Jacques turned to Scott\nChose to jump off his mama porch leading the stampede of lost souls\nIn the middle of their metamorphosis, not quite through with their journey\nAin't made it to wherever the fuck they gon' be in life\nBut wherever it is, it's better than here, so fuck you, and fuck this\n\nNo monogamy, m\u00e9nage with me\nPornography surrounding me\nYou get high with me, you come down with me\nThat's all I need in my fantasy\nAll these flashing lights\u2014, lights\u2014, lights\u2014\nGive you some of me, you want all of me\nAnd get high with me and come down with me\nYeah, that's all I need in my fantasy\n\nYou remind me of my ex, crazy love\nWe designed our love around the drugs\nWe both in this club, we both tryna fuck\nI'ma rub a dub, tryna get a nut\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nNo monogamy, m\u00e9nage with me\nPornography surrounding me\nYou get high with me, you come down with me\nThat's all I need in my fantasy\nAll these flashing lights blinding me\nGive you some of me, you want all of me\nAnd get high with me and come down with me\nYeah, that's all I need in my fantasy\n\nThe story of the bastard was never told\nThe soul of a bastard was never sold\nWill he survive, or will he fold up?\nLiving like a bronco, lifestyle wild and untamed\nSit sip at the top, a long list of no named\nMisfits can't wait to get a chance to say \"Fuck you\"\nTo the ones who said \"Fuck you\"\n'Til you doing ya thing, codeine and cocaine cartels\nWho leads the charge of this young mob?\n\"La Flame,\" he hears in his head, \"The world is yours\" (Yours, yours)\n\nWake up, nigga, gotta get the cake up, nigga\nNiggas in the bushes in the farms, might gotta rake up a nigga\nI'm way too antsy 'cause my ambition's too frantic\nI might need to move to Atlantis 'cause my mind too outlandish\nIt's the rodeo, time to get started\nHouston nigga goin' James Harden\nThey was wildin' on us niggas in the projects\nWonder why a nigga went cold-hearted\nThey wanna put my soul up on an auction\nBut I'ma make 'em take the fall like August\nAnd they gon' vote me right in on my caucus\nAnd I'ma show these niggas how to get lawless\nWhy your hands out, asking could you hold one?\nWho do I owe? Nigga, no one\nThey bigging you up but you low down\nAnimated acting frozen\nI got porno pics, wish I can post them\nStackin' Franklins, I can't fold 'em\nNiggas askin' for the old him\nBut I'm way too young to be the old him\nI'ma make this shit crack Lamar Odom\n'Til I climb to the top of the podium\n\nSo wake up, nigga, gotta get the cake up, nigga\nNiggas in the bushes, niggas on the farm, might gotta rake up a nigga\nI'm way too antsy 'cause my ambition's too frantic\nI might move out to Atlantis 'cause my mind too outlandish\nWe gon' rule the world, we gon' rule the world\nWe gon' rule the world, hmm\nNever gonna stop, never gonna stop, never ever gonna stop it!\n\nLa Flame says, \"Let your ambition carry you\""}
{"text":"Ooh, ah\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ah\nOoh, ah, ooh, ooh, ah\nOooh, ahh, oooh, oooh, ahh\n\nI'm trapped in my conscious\nMy trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds\nHit up the hood pharmacist, he serve all the muddy\nMight shoot at your buddy who shot at my buddy\nThe sky keep on fallin', the drugs I keep callin'\nThey keep pickin' up for me, they love me\n\nI don't wanna buy, oh no\nIt won't get me high, oh no\n\nI'm trapped in my conscious\nMy trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds\nHit up the hood pharmacist, he serve all the muddy\nMight shoot at your buddy who shot at my buddy\nThe sky keep on fallin', the drugs keep on callin'\n\nYeah, that's that loud shit, yeah\nI been out on my latest trip\nI've been drunk in my latest whip\nSo I might crash in that ass for real (For real, for real)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nHit the club for the cougars\nI never got down with the morals of Martin Luther\nI'm just tryna ball, why these niggas want me neutered?\nGot her down to her drawers, tryna get a little nuder\nThey just wanna hang like my nigga Mr. Cooper\nI'm so 'head of my time, could I show up any sooner?\nThey said I fucked the roommates, so you know that just a rumor\nHave you ever got stoned with your motherfuckin' jeweler? (Jeweler)\nScott La Flame, no Rick the Ruler, yeah\n\nI don't wanna buy no more (No more)\nYour shit ain't gettin' me high no more (No more)\n\nMy trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds\nMight jump with no bungee, I'm gone off that muddy\nThe drugs keep\u2014\n\nI'm trapped in my conscious (Ooh, ah)\nMy trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds\nMight jump with no bungee, get lost in the muddy (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ah)\nI might shoot at your buddy who shot at my buddy\nWhere's the love if you love me? (Oooh, ahh, oooh, oooh, ahh)\nI don't wanna buy no more (No more)\nYour shit ain't gettin' me high no more\n\nI'm trapped in my conscious\nMy trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds\nMight jump with no bungee, I'm gone off that muddy\nThe drugs keep on callin', the sky keep on fallin'\n\nThe drugs keep on callin' (Callin')\nThe sky keep on fallin', the drugs keep on callin'\nThe sky keep on fallin' (On fallin')\nThe drugs keep on callin', the sky keep on fallin' (Fallin')\nThe sky keep on fallin' (Fallin')\nThe drugs keep on callin', the sky keep on fallin' (Fallin')\nThe sky keep on fallin' (Fallin')\nThe drugs keep on callin', the sky keep on fallin' (Keep on fallin')\n\n(Ooh, ah)\nLook me inside of my eyes (Ooh, ah)\n(Ooh, ah)\nAll of this pain, but I'm tryna disguise (Ooh, ah)\nI'm it, like a game that get played by a kid\nPussy boy, I'm on your head like a wig\nDiamonds water like I bought 'em from a squid\nA1's what she get when she want dick\nBlack diamonds like I'm Akon kid\nWhippin', I can turn a two to a six\nReal talk, on Blood, you dead (Ooh, ah, ooh, ooh, ah)\nAnd I still want that head like a lid\nHit the school, make it rain on a principal\nI will leave a nigga smokin' like an Optimo\nAll my bitches, they on green, go\nThey riding with heat, ready to sting, bro\nI got 300 bitches like I'm Sosa, ho (Ooh, ah, ooh, ooh, ah)\nMy jewelry shinin' like some Mop & Glo\nInside her pants is a camel toe\nI swear I fell in love with all those\n(Ooh, ah, ooh, ooh, ah)\n\nI don't wanna buy no more (No more)\nYour shit ain't gettin' me high no more (No more)\n\nMy trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds\nMight jump with no bungee, I'm gone off that muddy\nThe drugs keep\u2014\n\nI'm trapped in my conscious (Ooh, ah)\nMy trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds\nMight jump with no bungee, get lost in the muddy (Ooh, ooh, ooh, ah)\nI might shoot at your buddy who shot at my buddy\nWhere's the love if you love me? (Oooh, ahh, oooh, oooh, ahh)\n\nI don't wanna buy no more (No more)\nYour shit ain't gettin' me high no more\n\nI'm trapped in my conscious\nMy trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds\nMight jump with no bungee, I'm gone off that muddy\nThe drugs keep on callin', the sky keep on fallin'\n\nMetro Boomin' want some more, nigga"}
{"text":"Oh, oh, don't pray for love\nOh, oh, say it loud\nJust ask the lonely, oh-oh\nJust ask the lonely, oh-oh\n\nPray for who lost they fate and died too young\nPray for the ones I hate, the ones I love\nPray for my liver when I'm off in this club\nI pray that the demons go away, they hauntin' us\nMan, I can't take no more of this lifestyle we been living\nMan, I can't take no more of the white powers in position\nGotta grab up J-Will, gotta scoop up J-Rich\nTold Chase we ain't going back, you know we gotta hitch\nI mean, I'm aggravated, agitated, I admit\nIntoxicated, animated, got me feeling kinda lit\nContemplating fornicating, might as well fuck up some shit\nThey looking at me way too crazy, got me feeling communist\nBut I'm just trying to save the throne, pray for Bones, pray for Stix (Just ask the lonely)\nIf my album never sell, then we gon' hit that lick\nTell Lamar, call up Cash, tell him buzz me at the Ritz (Just ask the lonely)\nIt's the weekend, we off the deep end, you need to pray for us\n\nOh, oh, don't pray for love\nOh, oh, say it loud\nJust ask the lonely, oh-oh\nJust ask the lonely, oh-oh\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nPills (Pills, pills), have you ever been through life's (Through life's), challenges? Promises? Promises? (Challenges? Promises? Promises?)\nGet down, I'm prayin' (Get down, I'm prayin')\n\nLet me tell the lost tale about Jacques\nLet me tell you how I turned Scott\nHow I went down on the block\nWaterfall around ten o'clock\nAnd how we came up getting all the knots, dodging cops, yeah\n'Fore a nigga had the locks (Just ask the lonely)\n'Fore a nigga had the chain, 'fore I had the bops\nAlways kept my city on me like it was a swatch (Just ask the lonely)\nEvery time we in the party, took it up a notch\nNow I'm thinking 'bout this new girl, and she doing pop (Oh-oh)\nWanna know my dick longer than a Pringle box\n(Don't pray for love)\nTired of seein' these black kids on the face of FOX (Oh-oh)\nAnd fuck CNN, they don't wanna see us win (Say it loud)\nMama, don't you worry no, no more, worry no, no more (Just ask the lonely)\nI'ma take you from the first to the ninetieth floor\nYou always told me what I plant, that shit gotta grow (Just ask the lonely)\nAnd anything I detonate, that shit gotta blow\nPray for y'all\n\nNo, oh, oh (Woah)\nWe don't pray for love, no more, no more (Woah, woah, woah)\nWe don't wanna save you on the cover of a carton (We don't wanna save no more)\nWe don't wanna save you all alone, oh, (No more, no more, no more, no more), all alone\nHm, no, no, no, no, no, no, hm, no, no, no, no, no, no (Just ask the lonely)\nHm, no, no, no, no, no, no (Just ask the lonely)\nHm, no, no, no, no, yeah\nUnderrated is an understatement\nThey tryna test greatness, a nigga tryna get paid\nThese niggas fiends watching all of my moves\n'Cause the music like crack, got me cooking all day\nI'm right here, you know where I stay\nAnd if you don't, then ask your girl, she probably know the way\nShe like my show lights, she wanna be wifey\nShe know that if she got me then she gon' be good for life\nSo I pull out for the climax, faster than a hi-hat\nSorry, baby, I don't play\nAnd if I did, you know my kids would be ballin'\nAnd my daughter gon' never meet a nigga like me\nMy niggas pull up in that Rolls-Royce\nLike they sell that coke, boy, shout out to the Coke Boys\nThey never pray for us, nobody pray for us\nNobody pray, no, no, no, no, no\n\nOh, oh, don't pray for love (Oh, oh)\nOh, oh, say it loud (Oh, oh)\nJust ask the lonely\nJust ask the lonely, oh-oh (Just ask the lonely)"}
{"text":"\nYeah, yeah\n(Yeah)\n\nOh my, oh my, what a wonderful time (Yeah)\nBeen a minute since I pulled up outside (Skrrt-skrrt)\nShut it down, yeah, you do that every time (Okay)\nOoh-wee, got a feelin' you might, yeah (Yeah)\n\nWork it like a stripper, yeah, but you not a stripper, yeah\nDog her down with ya, yeah, work that 9 to 5 with ya, yeah\nHave to smoke a pound with ya\n\nOh my (Yeah), on a vibe, what a wonderful time (It's lit)\nHundred deep, all my niggas outside\nValet park when I pull up in the ride (Yeah, yeah)\nHo, it's late, you might have to spend the night, yeah\n\nOh, I love my city lit at night, yeah (Yeah)\nOh, I love my bitches when they bite, yeah (Yeah)\nOh, let's call some up and let's get right, yeah (Yeah)\nOh-oh (Yeah)\nWe just landed in your city, go time\nDrivin' to the venue like she seein' no signs\nShe got all the passes, she don't ever do lines\nBustin' like she single, she ain't wastin' no time (Alright)\nYou cannot record, that's for the show now (Oh, no)\nLeave your phone, you'll get that later on now (Straight up)\nPour that special drink, that's for my throat now (Yeah)\nAnd take a sip\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nOh my, oh my, what a wonderful time\nBeen a minute since I pulled up outside\nShut it down, yeah, we do that every time\nOoh-wee, got a feelin' you might, might (Yeah)\n\nWork it like a stripper, yeah, but you not a stripper, yeah\nDog her down with ya, yeah (Down with ya), work that 9 to 5 with ya, yeah (Work with ya)\nHave to smoke a pound with ya (Pound with ya)\n\nOh me, oh my\nWhy they wonderin' who the kid sleepin' 'side?\nI been up sleepless late nights\nOverride, yeah, overdrive, yeah (Oh)\nBag it, bag it up, just bag it up, yeah (Yeah)\nWanna try this one more again? (Oh my) I been on the edge (Yeah, yeah)\nScopin' through the lens, these thoughts is in my mind\nGot me on the drive, got me on the ride to a wonderful time\n\nOh my, oh my, what a wonderful time (Straight up)\nBeen a minute since I pulled up outside\nShut it down, yeah, we do that every time\nOoh-wee, got a feelin' you might, yeah (Yeah)\nOh my, what a wonderful time\nBeen a minute since I pulled up outside\nShut it down, yeah, you do that every time\nOoh-wee, got a feelin' you might, yeah\nWork it like a stripper, yeah, but you not a stripper, yeah\nDog her down with ya, yeah, work that 9 to 5 with ya, yeah\nHave to smoke a pound with ya (Oh, me)\n\nNa-na-na, na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na, na-na-na-na, na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na, na-na-na-na, na-na"}
{"text":"Tell me, is you still up? (Up)\nIt's 5 AM and I'm drunk right now\nTell me, can we still fuck? (Fuck that shit)\nOne of one, I'm in the zone right now\nTell me, am I still? (Mm)\nTellin' you just how I feel right now\nYou said it's just the drugs and I know\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nI lied too, way before (Let's go), before\nBefore I had you right inside my arms\nBut then again, I could be drunk (It's lit, yeah)\n\nBaby, I don't wanna sound righteous (Yeah)\nI got twenty bitches suckin' like bisons\nI just eeny, meeny, miney, roll the dices, I pick her (Pop it, pop it)\nShe ain't even really my type, and I hear\nShe been losin' herself to the night shift\nShe been losin' herself and I get, oh, girl, yeah, I get it\nYeah, yeah, you've been fightin' for your shot\nAnd you've been searchin' for your spot\nGirl, I feel it, yeah, girl, I feel it, yeah\nOh, you think you got your groove\nBut you want someone like you (Let\u2014)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nTell me, is you still up? (Up)\nIt's 5 AM and I'm drunk right now\nTell me, can we still fuck? (Fuck that shit)\nOne of one, I'm in the zone right now\nTell me, am I still? (Mm)\nTellin' you just how I feel right now\nYou said it's just the drugs and I know\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know (Ooh, it's the kid, know it, damn it)\nI lied too, way before, before (How they feelin', how they feelin' right here, ooh)\nBefore I had you right inside my arms (Feelin' like some money tonight)\nBut then again, I could be drunk (Yeah)\n\nI know, mami, I know (Know), it's 2 AM, don't stress (Stress)\nAt three, that bullshit kick in, in thirty, you'll feel your best\nI turned my whole spot to crucial, it's crucial, the way I left (It's lit)\nUpstairs is like a low, my new bitches be the best (Let's go)\nI'm lookin' at her, when her startin' to turn into you (Her)\nNow you startin' to fuck up my mind, is it you, is it her?\nWe brought Booby Trap to the 'burbs\nF29 is my address, in case you ain't heard\nIt's floodin' upstairs, it's a leak\nI don't make it squeak, make it squirt\nI make this shit beat, bon app\u00e9tit when I feast\nSlippin' and slide through the streets\nIt takes a finesse, especially in this Cabriolet G\nEngine make it hard to creep\nJust leave the gate open, through the side door, I'ma creep (Ooh, ooh)\nAre you by the Turrell? And are the kids downstairs asleep?\nAnd are you upstairs by yourself? A minute from there\nIs there some room for me? Baby, do tell, do tell\nTell me, is you still up? (Up)\nIt's 5 AM and I'm drunk right now\nTell me, can we still fuck? (Fuck that shit)\nOne of one, I'm in the zone right now\nTell me, am I still? (Mm)\nTellin' you just how I feel right now\nYou said it's just the drugs and I know\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nI lied too, way before (Let's go), before\nBefore I had you right inside my arms\nBut then again, I could be drunk"}
{"text":"Don't like what I saw\nThis life without yours\nDespite I was lost\nDespite you got flaws\nJust let our love play its course\nLet you tell it, what's mine is yours, what's yours is yours\nAll the signs I ignored\nI play love like a sport\n\nYeah, first take\nYou ain't on time, you were late (Yeah!)\nWhen you around me, you're safe (Lit!)\nYou can't go off of a hearsay\nI know that look on your face\nYou think you winnin' a race\nYou think all I do is play (Yeah!)\nI didn't put you in your place\nThen why you still here in my place?\nYeah, thought so, yeah, and also\nYou think too much, we all know\nYou think too much, we all know\nYeah, I ain't tryna go back to war with your morals (Yeah!)\nYou can't kill the vibe, it's immortal (Straight up!)\nI ain't buyin' it even though I can afford ya (Ooh)\n'Cause I know\u2014\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nDon't like what I saw (Don't like what I saw)\nThis life without yours (This life without yours, ooh)\nDespite I was lost (Despite I was lost, ooh)\nDespite you got flaws (Ooh)\nJust let our love play its course (Yeah!)\nLet you tell it (Ooh)\nWhat's mine is yours, what's yours is yours (Ooh)\nAll the signs I ignored (Ooh)\nI play love like a sport (Ooh, yeah!)\n\nThis love won't grow 'less we find growth\nWipe down your nose, girl\nWon't you come over?\nLet's both find hoes\nLet's fuck them both\nBut you think too hard, we all know\nYou think too hard, we all know\nSo say nothin', nothin'\n'Cause you think too hard, we all know\nYeah, you know I'd rather lead it than follow\nYou and me, baby, mano y mano (It's lit)\n'Cause I know, I know\u2014\n\nDon't like what I saw (Yeah)\nThis life without yours (Yeah, yeah)\nDespite I was lost (Ayy)\nDespite you got flaws (Ayy)\nJust let our love play its course (Ohhh)\nLet you tell it\nWhat's mine is yours, what's yours is yours (All is yours)\nAll the signs I ignored (Uh-huh)\nI play love like a sport (Like a sport, no, yeah)\nOkay, lil' mama\nI still ain't heard from lil' mama\nWe go back to Angliana when you was studying in college\nBut I called you and brought ya out to Santa Monica\nBelieved in you, I was your sponsor\nI got love for you, but I'm not in love\nGave me affection\nGirl, I was lost, she gave me direction\nWent through fuckin' you with no protection\nAll my blessings\nGirl, you one of all my blessings\nYou think I don't care about you?\nGirl, you better call my best friend\nI got time to waste\nGirl, I got time to waste\nGirl, I cancelled everything\nJust to get back on the same page\nTo finish the story\nBut you would rather ignore me\nYour mama called to check on me\nBut you won't even pick up the phone, shit (Yeah)\nGod damn, you feelin' yourself (Yeah)\nOut in Hollywood, you got a nigga with some wealth (Word)\nYou ain't free tonight, I bet he call somebody else\nTryna tell you I'm the last real nigga left (Damn right)\nYou can hit me if you need help\nWith your love problems, with your money problems\nI just might solve 'em, I just might solve 'em\nI just might solve 'em, I just might solve 'em (Yeah)\nI just might solve 'em\nJust call me or you could just pick up the phone, baby\nI know you, I know you home, baby\nBaby, I know, I know"}
{"text":"Who's that creeping through my window?\n'Fore you come outside, I got the M4\nTook her to the endzone from the Enzo\nKnow I love to smoke, you love the liq' more\nWanna hit the Jack, then what you call for?\nAll that out-your-name shit, that ain't called for, mm\n\nWho that creepin'? Know the tint is dark (Five percent)\nAll that fall-in-love shit, gotta Kevin Hart (Yeah, yeah)\nAll that speed and fly shit, we might teleport, yeah (Skrrt, skrrt)\nAll that cop harass shit, I might clip a sarge', yeah (12)\nKeep bouncin' that ass, you just might get award, yeah\nIf she bad, she get a pass into the tour (Passes, yeah)\nI pick through the family, grab the bad sister like Janet\nOpps outside, don't panic, gotta switch, gotta change up transit\nStill jump around, move antsy, and I still don't like shit fancy\nUp late feelin' real chancy, they outside really tryna end me, yeah\n\nWho's that creeping through my window? (My window)\n'Fore you come outside, I got the M4 (M4)\nTook her to the endzone from the Enzo (Yah)\nKnow I love to smoke, you love to lick more (Yah-yah)\nWanna hit the Jack, then what you call for? (Yah-ah)\nAll that out-your-name shit, that ain't called for (Yah)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nWho the fuck is this?\nMet somebody baby mama inside of the VIP while I'm tryna tip\nShawty said she holding, got a razor in her lip\nMix my cup and twist one up, I love that ratchet shit\nShe like-like iced out wrists, iced out-iced out wrists (Iced out wrists)\nFuck don't kiss, fuck, she fuck don't kiss (Mwah)\nLook like friends, but she say they twins (Twins)\nJump right in, there's legroom in this Benz (Legroom in this Benz)\nTen miles to the crib, you know that's deep (Deep, yeah)\nI think it's someone out there watching me, yeah\n\nWho's that creeping through my window? (My window, who?)\n'Fore you come outside, I got the M4 (M4)\nTook her to the endzone from the Enzo (Yah, yeah!)\nKnow I love to smoke, you love to lick more (Lick! Yah-yah)\nWanna hit the Jack, then what you call for? (Yah-ah, Jack!)\nAll that out-your-name shit, that ain't called for (Ya-ah)\n\nWho's that creeping through my window? (The window)\n'Fore you come outside, I got the M4 (M4)\nTook her to the endzone from the Enzo (Yeah)\nKnow I love to smoke, you love to lick more (Yeah)"}
{"text":"(This is all)\nThis is all\n\nBad-bad news\nI'm just bad, bad news\nGood thing, the two\nBonnie and Clyde, the money and who?\nIt's bad news\nBad, bad for you\nBut I'm back on the coffee bean (Bean)\nAnything in between, yeah (This is all, this is all)\nBack of the coffee line\nBack, back, back in the bathroom line (This is all)\n\nHow would you feel if I had you? (This is all)\nTrust me, you would be mad too (This is all)\nShawty, we can be mad cool\nJust hit me if anything past due\nYour family told you I'm a bad move (This is all)\nPlus, I'm already a black dude\nLeavin' the bathroom, my hands is half-rinsed\nIf only a nigga just had sense\nSpeaking in past tense (This is all)\nIt's been a week and a half since\nWe ain't been speaking and that meant\nYou feeling free in my absence\nI've been going through a lot behind this glass tint, yeah\n(This is all, this is all)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nBack of the coffee line\nBack, back, yeah, back in the bathroom line (This is)\nI know they told you I'd be bad for you (This is all)\nDon't worry, I'll be back for you\nAll the money and cars, stripper hoes and the tattoos\nBad news\nBack off a coffee bean, reflecting on all you see\n(This is all, this is all)\n\nStressing over award shows\nShe's stressin' over her wardrobe (This is all)\nBought the mansion on foreclose (This is all)\nNo matter how many tickets your tour sold\nYou feel this deep in your torso\nFeel like someone's readin' your horoscope (Ooh)\nSome shit only me and the Lord knows (Ooh)\nSOS is for those who hear this in morse code (Ooh)\nToo many doors closed, cul-de-sacs and fork roads (Ooh)\nStill ended up at the North Pole\nThis is where remorse goes (This is all)\nThis shit'll have you in divorce court (Ooh)\nFighting over your seeds\nFighting over your deeds, sliding over your keys (Ooh)\nAlimony and fees (Ooh)\nAs your lawyer proceeds (Ooh-ooh-ooh)\nTo give out bad news\nI'm just bad, bad news\nGood thing, the two\nBonnie and Clyde, the money and who?\nIt's bad news\nBad, bad for you\nBut I'm back on the coffee bean, anything in between\n(This is all, this is all)\nBack of the coffee line\nBack, back, back in the bathroom line, yeah (This is all)"}
{"text":"Ooh, ooh, ooh\nOoh, ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh\nOoh-ooh-ooh, ooh, uh\n\nDid you have the time of your life?\nLet's have the afterparty at my place\nAyy, do you have some spare change?\nOn me, I've got hundreds I'll throw in your face\n\nYeah, order more bottles, order more models\nOrder more hours, shots on an island\nHotter than the summer, the winter couldn't chill me\nYoung, free, and wildin', order more kidneys\n\nDope, I'm so dope\nAll these hunnies pilin' on the floor\nAnd we stuntin', know you see the glow\nThrow these hundreds, thought I'd let you know\nSince LA, I've been puttin' on\nCirque du Soleil, goin' on and on\nI got this money, tell me what you want\nFor this money, can you drop it low?\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nYeah, order more bottles, order more models\nOrder more hours, shots on an island\nHotter than the summer, the winter couldn't chill me\nYoung, free, and wildin', order more kidneys\nMm, when the night calls, oh-oh-oh\nWhen the night calls, oh-oh-oh\nYeah, order more bottles (Order more bottles)\nOrder more models (Order more models)\nOrder more hours (Order more hours)\nShots on an island (Shots on an island)\nHotter than the summer (Hotter than the summer)\nThe winter couldn't chill me (The winter couldn't chill me)\nYoung, free, and wildin' (Young, free, and wildin')\nSo order more kidneys (So order more kidneys)\n\nFreaks come out at night\nWe bring our fantasy to life\nPoint me to the ice\nAnd I don't need your drink, high off life\nUh, someone kill the lights\nI brought the party favors, just get piped\nAll my bitches right\nBut I want you and you tonight\nYeah, order more bottles (Order more bottles)\nOrder more models (Order more models)\nOrder more hours (Order more hours)\nShots on an island (Shots on an island)\nHotter than the summer (Hotter than the summer)\nThe winter couldn't chill me (The winter couldn't chill me)\nYoung, free, and wildin' (Young, free, and wildin')\nSo order more kidneys (So order more kidneys)\n\nWhen the night crawls\nAll the money, all the hoes, and the alcohol\nAll these hundreds and these thousands, I'ma spend it all\nAlways when the night calls\nWhen the night calls\nWe want money, we want hoes, we want alcohol\nAll these hundreds, all these thousands, I'ma spend it all\nAlways when the night calls\n\nAyy, walked up in the bank (Bank)\nOrdered me some funds (Beep)\nWalked in the strip club\nOrder me some ones (Gang)\nI walked up in the gun store (Huh?)\nOrdered me some guns (Bang-bang)\nYour bitch walked up in the spot\nAnd she ordered me for lunch (Gang, gang)\nI just ordered me some brunch (Ayy)\nKorean spicy garlic (Ayy)\nBitch, I come from eating McDonald's (Uh-huh)\nGirl, you know I'm from the projects (Ayy)\nLike I'm a G, I come through mobbin'\nLike Wu-T-A-N-G, we come through wildin'\nI ain't chicken, Killer Caesar with the chopper (Bang-bang)\nBoy, you don't blow no poles, I know, I know (No, no, no)\nI got me some angles\nI got me some money, fuck, I got me some haters (Ayy)\nI got me some FedEx (Ayy, ayy), I got me some cake\nI got me some UPS, I got me a freight, ayy (Gang, gang)\nOrder some more money (Beep)\nOrder some more money (Beep)\nOrder some more money (Beep)\nOrder some more bottles (Ayy)\nOrder some more bitches (Ayy)\nOrder some more money (Gang)\nI know you wanna be rich, bitch (Gang, gang)\nWhen the night crawls\nAll the money, all the hoes, and the alcohol\nAll these hundreds and these thousands, I'ma spend it all\nAlways when the night calls\nWhen the night calls\nWe want money, we want hoes, we want alcohol\nAll these hundreds, all these thousands, I'ma spend it all\nAlways when the night calls\nWhen the night crawls\nAll the money, all the hoes, and the alcohol\nAll these hundreds and these thousands, I'ma spend it all\nAlways when the night calls\nWhen the night calls\nWe want money, we want hoes, we want alcohol\nAll these hundreds, all these thousands, I'ma spend it all\nAlways when the night calls"}
{"text":"(Whistling)\n\n'Cause you're sweet\nSak pas\u00e9? (It's lit)\nWah yah seh? (Wah yah seh?)\nRun it up (Yah), all this cake (Yah, yah)\nBag it up (Yah), den come right away (Yah, yah!)\n'Cause you're sweet (Yah, yah-yah!)\nWhat's your status? (Yah)\nYah, might hit your address, if I'm on them Addys (Yah)\nJet right to you, I can't do no traffic (Skrrr, skrrr)\nI can't do no lacking (Skrrr, skrrr)\n\n'Cause you're sweet\u2014sweet\u2014like cocoa\nBut all you wanna do is the coco (Yah)\nHangin' out with you is a no go (Yah, yah-yah, straight up)\n'Cause you're sweet (Sweet, sweet), like cocoa\nBut all you wanna do is the coco (Sweet, sweet, sweet)\nHangin' out with you is a no go (Sweet, sweet, sweet)\n'Cause you're sweet (Sweet)\n\nLike my time, like my juice (Sweet, sweet)\nWe been downstairs in the basement with the moves (Sweet, yah)\nShout my town, shout my troops (Shout, shout)\nShout my jeweler, made my chain look like Froot Loops, yuh (It's lit)\nCome get a taste, come get a scoop (Scoop)\nI done made it out the hood through all the hoops (Hula hoops)\nI done finally found a way to make the loot (Make the loot)\nLink up all my niggas and my Jewels, yuh (High up)\nLink up, link up, yuh, link up, pour my syrup (Yah)\nDiamonds, yeah, they link up, link up\nGo berserk, do some shit you think of (Yah, yah)\nLean, lean, lean, all this lean, lean, lean\nWe might lean, lean, lean (Oh)\nSmoke all my shit (Shit)\nStop it, start again (Yah)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\n'Cause you're sweet (Yah), like cocoa\nBut all you wanna do is the coco\nHangin' out with you is a no go\n\n'Cau-, 'cause you're sweet, yuh\nSak pas\u00e9? (Yah)\nWah yah seh? (Yah, yah)\nRunnin' up (Yah), all this cake (Yah)\nBag it up (Bag it up), den come right away\n\nWhen I ask who bigger (Yah)\nAin't tryna argue with ya, I'm tryna figure (Straight up)\nWho you with, who your team, what your side? (Yah)\nHow you, how you, how you ride? (Skrrr, skrrr)\nHow you use me to survive? (Straight up)\nYuh, 'cause we up, lit at five (Oh)\nAt the crib goin' live, oh, so live (Yuh)\nEric hit the strippers, yuh, order V Live (Yah)\nOrder wings, told em' hold it (Hold it)\n\n'Cause you're sweet (It's lit), like cocoa (It's lit)\nBut all you wanna do is the coco (Yah, yah)\nHangin' out with you is a no go (Straight up)\n'Cause you're sweet like cocoa\nBut all you wanna do is the coco\nHangin' out with you is a no go\n'Cause you're sweet"}
{"text":"Know what I'm sayin', know what I'm sayin'?\nKnow what I'm sayin'?\n\nHeard they talkin' shit 'bout I\nWho, what, when and why? (Who?)\nI'm alive, just took one to revive (Yup)\nKeep that vibe when we show up and collide ('Llide, yeah)\nMe and the guys move just like the F-O-I (Ooh, he-he-he-he, yeah)\nIn the Hills, but still keep them ghetto ties (Hills, yeah)\nWas talkin' Frenchy's, but she thinkin' Ocean Prime (Prime, yeah)\nKnow she keep an open mouth and open mind (Ahh, yeah)\nI don't open up her door, she open mine (Swang)\nI need less stress and I need more thighs, yeah (Skrrt, skrrt)\nWe on the jet quest, mobbin' with the tribe, yeah (Skrrt, skrrt)\nIn the headrest, one of twenty-five, yes (Skrr, skrr)\nAin't seen the best yet, open up your eyes, yeah (Yeah)\n\nOne, two, three, four, five, that's the countdown 'til I slide (Slide)\nPork and rinds, how I grew up on my side (Eat it up)\nAin't no fence, just a hundred acres wide (Nope)\nWhen shit get tense, we twist up and we get fried\n\nI picked my favorite dancer out, then pay her rent (Cash, cash)\nAt Christmas time it's no Saint Nick, we got the Grinch (Bad, bad)\nI smack that ass she threw it back in self defense (Yeah)\nWe took the crib, flood the backyard like it's the beach (Drip, drip)\nWe did some things out on the ways that we can't speak\nAll I know it was ,\"Mo Bamba\" on repeat (Cash)\nI don't think these things I took is helpin' me (Oh, yeah)\nI could bar up some more\nHad to gather the foes\nHad to count up the Os (Big bag)\nHad to summon the hoes (Hey)\nDodgin' federal (12)\nI rolled through the light (Skrrt, skrrt)\nRollin' the dice (Hey)\nRock all my ice (All ice)\nPoppin' that coochie (Coochie, coochie)\nThis down and groovy (Ooh)\nTo get down, get groovy (Groovy)\nThat bitch brown and choosey (Hey!)\nShawty (Shawty), in a supersonic (Yeah)\nBrand new LaFerrari (Woo), my bitch ride iconic\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\n(Yeah, yeah)\nOne, two, three, four, five\nThat's the countdown 'til I slide ('Til I slide)\nPork and rinds, how I grew up on my side (On my side)\nAin't no fence, just a hundred acres wide (Acres wi\u2014)\nWhen shit get tense, we twist up and we get fried (Get fried)\n\nWas born in the movie (Movie)\nNever make excuses (No)\nIt was time to move it (Time to move)\nIt was God and the Uzi (God and the Uzi)\nWe were trained to use it (Hey)\nThey were trained to use it (Trained)\nShoot you like Cupid (Shoot)\nHit your medulla, yeah\n\nShoot at, shoot at intruders (Yeah, pew-pew-pew)\nThen shoot your producer (Yeah)\nThen she fuck the gang, get banged\nAnd fuck on the group, she a groupie (Yeah)\nLove her when she choosin', hmm (Yeah)\nBig bankroll, it's soothin', hmm (Yeah)\nPull up with sticks in a Sprinter bus\nI make 'em cuddle up, this not a movie\n(Yeah, yeah)\nOne, two, three, four, five, that's the countdown 'til I slide ('Til I slide)\nPork and rinds, how I grew up on my side (On my side)\nAin't no fence, just a hundred acres wide (Acres wi\u2014)\nWhen shit get tense, we twist up and we get fried (Get fried)"}
{"text":"Gonna pop, baby\nVemo'\n\nSwish, lit (Lit)\nMove that shit out here (Here)\nYou full off one sip (Sip)\nFallin' off but I got grip (Grip)\nAll around the trap, it hit (Hit, hit, ayy)\nAll around the map, you trip (Skrrt)\nTake it like nine out of ten (Yeah)\nThink they gon' find that again\nThink I gotta bond out again\nBehind the tint, I sin, I vent\nCan't forget about that place we went\nRight after you put that in my head\nDo you still pop 'em? Do you dance?\nDo you still drop some'? Know you can\nI got a lot but I'm still chancin'\n\nYeah-yeah, yeah, yeah\nHace tiempo no te veo, eh\nEs que ahora en Miami jangueo, eh, eh\nYa no tengo la Rodeo\nAhora en la G-Wagon me posteo, ey\nY te lo meto al frente 'e la playa\nComo aquello' tiempo' de camino a Maya\nT\u00fa ni fumaba' y chingando te arrebat\u00e9\nDale, no pierdas tiempo, no lo piense', tr\u00e9pate\nT\u00fa bien loca, loca, yo bien loco, loco\nSi ahora tu mai nos pilla, me pide una foto\nLa nota me explota, el ticke' lo exploto\nVamo' pa' Cayo Musha, ya le texte\u00e9 al piloto, eh-eh\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nI know it was one time (Swish)\nYou feel like that went on (Went on)\nThat night was just so fire\nI need you back sooner (Sooner)\nYou come back on this side\nWhen shit get back cooler (Cooler)\nWe run it back one time\nI'm grabbin' you uno (Uno)\n\nOoh (Uno)\nOoh-ooh (Mm-mm, mm-mm)\nOoh (Mm-mm, mm-mm)\nOoh-yeah (Mm-mm)\n\nMix the drugs with the pain\nLet the waves lead the way\nYou in Cannes and Saint-Tropez callin' out my name\nYou know I'm rolling my face off\nYou know I'm high off that K pop\nRubbin' up on your body\nAll your clothes, you gon' take off\nSouth of France, we gon' party\nThis ain't some lil' yachty\nWe gon' fuck 'til we seasick (Skrrt)\nYou my bad lil' mami, mami (Yeah)\nYou love me, you could tell me you love me\nEven if you don't mean it (Mm-mm)\nSex'll make you believe it (Mm-mm)\nI love it when she up on me (Mm-mm)\nLove when she'll call me, \"Papi\" (Mm-mm)\nEven though she Korean (Mm-mm)\nGet her wet like tsunami, 'nami, ooh, yeah (Yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI know it was one time (Swish)\nYou feel like that went on (Went on)\nThat night was just so fire\nI need you back sooner (Sooner)\nYou come back on this side\nWhen shit get back cooler (Cooler)\nWe run it back one time\nI'm grabbin' you uno\n\nYeah-yeah, yeah, yeah (Uno)"}
{"text":"\nYeah\n\nOh my, oh my\nOh my, oh my\nI've been up for a long time, oh my\nOh my, oh my\nOh my, oh my (Oh my, yeah)\nOh my, oh my (Oh-oh-oh)\nI've been up for a long time, oh my\nOh my, oh my\n\nI've been up for a long time (Ooh), broad day\nI've been popping pills (Ooh), pouring syrup (Ooh), great day\nCuzo hanging at my aunty house (Bando) selling yay' (Uh)\nI got shooters dressed in camo (Grra)\nOh my (Ooh)\nI've been in and out the courthouse, jury tripping\nI've been flipping, flipping, syrup sipping (Flipping)\nWater whippin' (Whippin')\nMama kicked me out the house now, oh my (Woo)\nI might end up on a couch now (Gah), oh my\nI'm on a flight now (Yeah), oh my\nL.A., at another couch now (Uh), oh my\nI'm counting up nothing but Benjamins right now (Money)\nOh my\nI'm on a flight now (Woo), we so high\n'Bout to get some cash now (Cash), oh my\nGot my momma that new house now (Momma), oh my\nNow she cannot kick me out now (No), oh my\nI've been up for a long time (La Flame), oh my (Oh my)\nWoo!\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nOh my, oh my (Uh)\nOh my, oh my (Oh my, oh my)\nI've been up for a long time (Long time), oh my (Oh my)\nOh my, oh my (Oh my, uh, go)\nOh my, oh my (Oh my)\nOh my (Uh), oh my (Oh my)\nI've been up for a long time, oh my (Long time)\nOh my, oh my (Oh-oh-oh-ooh)\n\nWow (Wow, wow, wow)\nLet me tell you a little story about this side (This side)\nYou really can't make it on this side (This side)\nLot of lone stars on this side (This side)\nI feel a lot at home on this side (Ooh)\nBall 'til we fall on this side (Ooh)\nLit late night on this side (Ooh)\nYou never come around past midnight (Ooh)\nYou miss everything on this side\n\nThis side (This side), this side (This side)\nThis side, this side, this side, this side (Uh)\nThis side (Woo), this side (Ooh)\nThis side, this side, yeah\nI made a lot of money on this side (Ooh)\nLost a lot of money on this side (Ooh)\nHad my first kiss on this side (Ooh)\nLearned a lot of shit about this side (Ooh)\nLately I been thinking 'bout this side (Ooh)\nTryna get back on this side (Ooh)\nTryna get back what's been mine (Ooh)\nI gotta get back on this side\nReally miss the feeling of the late nights (Late nights)\nShit we used to do around midnight (Midnight)\nHangin' on the corner, had shit tight (Shit tight)\nDoin' all the drugs, had to get right (Get right)\nIf I could get my partner back it would be nice (Be nice)\nHe would shoot the one, wouldn't think twice (Shoot the one)\nHe was too involved with the street life (Street life)\nOnly way to live on this side (This side)\n\nThis side (This side), this side (This side)\nThis side, this side, this side, this side (Oh)\nThis side (This side), this side (Oh)\nThis side, this side, this side (Migo!)\n\nYoung rich nigga from the Northside\nPaid my dues on this side\nFlippin' the bricks on this side\nI made it out the hood, I'm on the other side\nAll my niggas on this side (This side)\nKeep it one hundred on this side\nLove to get money on this side\nNo new niggas on this side (This side)\nLook at my diamonds, don't get blind (Don't get blind)\nYou better handcuff your ho with a zip tie (Cuff)\n'Cause we'll take her, bust her down on this side (Woo)\nBroke niggas stand to the left side\nHandsome and wealthy on this side\nI came from the bottom\nAnd now I'm on top, that's phenomenal (Phenomenal)\nThis side, this side, this side, this side\nIf I did not make it, I wonder where I would go (Oh!)\nThis side, this side (This side), this side (Uh)\nGraduated from the midget (Woah)\nThis the life I was livin' (Woah)\nGraduated to a million (Woah)\nIt's the money that I'm gettin' (Woah)\nGraduated from a hotbox\nNow I'm ridin' 'round in a Bentley (Skrrt, skrrt)\nThis how we do it on...\nThis side, this side (Woo), this side (Uh)\nAlways, always this side\nThis side, this side, this side\nThat's right, that's right\nYou never come around past midnight\nMidnight, midnight\nYou know how I like my lean poured right\nJust right, on this side\nFind everything you need, everything you need on this side\nThis side, this side, this side, this side"}
{"text":"She say your bad ass always had a thing for sweets\nGuess that's why I'm so hot on the street\nWon't you and your friends come eat with me?\nAnd let me show you how to whip that recipe\nShe say your bad ass always had a thing for sweets\nGuess that's why I'm so hot on the street\nOh, won't you come over and eat with me?\nAnd let me show you how to whip-whip-whip-whip that recipe\n\nI don't want your apple pie, mama\nYeah, I ain't tryna dap up niggas blockin' me\nYeah, made it out the spot, straight to Quintana\nAnd I'm still that nigga with diamonds on my blocka\nI say when they come at me I bet they have some backup\nI bet I take your bitch, she take that dick straight up the stasher\nKeep an ounce of garlic just to keep away the Draculas\nI just seek out to find my home, why can't they just leave me lone?\n\n'Cause I don't want your apple pie, no, no, mama\nI don't want your apple pie, no, yeah\nI don't want your apple pie, mama\nI don't want your apple pie no more\nI need my own pepper pepper, please, pepper, pepper seeds\nNeed my own reme-remedy, my own legacy\nYeah, I don't want your apple pie, mama\nI need my own pepper, please\nMy own legacy, my own recipe\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nI came to get it nominated\nFrom a spot that y'all seen Bun B blow up (Woah)\nI hate to break your heart, I bet I'll make the mark\nThat y'all see a legacy go up (Woah)\nGoyard done break your pockets\nBoy, I'm out in Paris lettin' all these beats go up (Woah)\nI make in one appearance\nWhat these niggas hatin' makin' in four seasons (Woah)\nH-Town, know we gon' stunt\nI'm for real and your Rollie tick (Woah)\nLook, bitch, this the Rodeo\nBut I ain't goin' out for your bullshit (Woah)\nAnd I don't want your apple pie, mama (Woah)\nI don't wanna dap up niggas blockin' me (Woah)\nI am everything except a rapper\nShit, I got at least twenty-five lighters on my dresser, aw, yeah (Woah)\n\nRoxanne tonight\nRoxanne tonight (Yup, yup)\nRoxanne tonight (Yup, yup, yup)\nRoxanne tonight (Yup, yup, yup)\nRoxanne tonight (Yup, yup, yup)\nRoxanne tonight (Yup, yup, yup)\nHuh, que ser\u00e1, ser\u00e1, so the story goes\nOn and on and back and forth, the evolution's absolute\nTours and shows and groupie whores\nWouldn't hesitate if he had to shoot, though he'd rather not\nForever been the elephant in the room\nThat everyone can't wait to run and tell about\nThe head to the body of the belligerent militant group\nThat sponsors the revolution that will not be televised\nDecide to cross those lil' guys, you've obviously been ill-advised\nYet and still, the question that arises to the mind\nWill he make it? Was it worth it?\nDid he win? Will he survive the Rodeo?"}
{"text":"Used to wanna fuck an R&B bitch, then that shit happened, yeah, yeah (Pluto)\nUsed to wanna be rich, then it finally happened\nThought it'd make me happy (Thought it'd make me happy)\n\nI could've took the pain and I could've went out sad\nStreets stepped in and raised me, but I ain't have my daddy\nNiggas tryna clone me, run off with my swag\nFrom sellin' coco, got Chanel on my jacket (Jacket)\nShawty give me mop with the less, it don't last (Last)\nTakin' more drugs all alone in a mansion\nWalkin' around tweakin' with the yop in my hands (Walkin' around tweakin')\nJust another broke ho just preachin' for th\u0435se bands (Just another ho)\nAnd I know I'm due for a billion-dollar advanc\u0435 (Uh-huh)\n\nI can see the future, I can see the future (I can see the future)\nI can see the future, it's lookin' like we leveled through the sky\nI can't wait to live in glory in eternal lastin' life (Livin' in glory)\nWon't you take the wheel? And I recline and I sit still\nMight as well turn up now, He gon' pop up unannounced\nTo the trumpets, do you like the way it sounds? (Like the way it sound)\n\nYou know the future of the bounce, ayy\nI can hear your thoughts so loud, I can hear the crowd so loud\nDo you like the way it sounds? Ayy\nI can hear your thoughts so loud, I can hear the crowd so loud (So loud)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nI can see the future\nRide with Wolf and Storm' and some troopers\nRidin' through this shit, this shit is stupid\nSky walkin' 'round like I'm Luke-uh\nDuckin' all these convos like I'm Bruce-uh, super\nMobbin' with my angels dodgin' Lucifer (Mob)\nSeein' every angle, I can see through ya, yeah (Yeah)\n\nI can see the future, it's lookin' like we leveled through the sky (Seen enough)\nI can't wait to live in glory in eternal lastin' life (Livin' in glory)\nWon't you take the wheel? And (Seen enough) I recline and I sit still\nMight as well turn up now, He gon' pop up unannounced\nTo the trumpets, do you like the way it sounds?\nYou know the future of the bounce\n\nCount so much money 'til my skin peel\nCherry-red Benz like the real pimp (Yeah)\nMy bro cook up dope, it take real skill\nShare my bitch with my ho, ain't got no chill (No)\nYou either gettin' to money or you're gossipin' (Yeah)\nShe chose up, put on this coat, now she lottery\n\nPlaces I thought I'd never go I fly models in\nI hear the demons clear when they callin' (Yeah)\nFlyest on the Earth, so I had to name myself a planet (Pluto)\nAutomatic dead when you goin' against my family\nFew breakups went public, I just bought another baddie (Bought another baddie)\nBitch knew I was toxic, when she met me, I was a savage (Met me, I was a savage)\nHigh in the hills tryna avoid any madness (Yeah)\nPrivate on the Lear, this just like we imagined\nOnly settlin' for this Hi-Tech 'cause I ain't got the Actavis (Yeah)\nI'm tryna be modest (Yeah), it sound like I'm braggin' (Braggin')\nCartier my frames (Frames), all because my fame (Fame)\nBitch said she ashamed to love me in public, rather go private (Seen enough)\nCount so much money 'til my skin peel\nCherry-red Benz like the real pimp\nMy bro cook up dope, it take real skill\nShare my bitch with my ho, ain't got no chill\nYou either gettin' to money or you're gossipin'\nShe chose up, put on this coat, now she lottery\n\nI can see the future, it's lookin' like we leveled through the sky\nI can't wait to live in glory in eternal lastin' life\nWon't you take the wheel? And I recline and I sit still\nMight as well turn up now, He gon' pop up unannounced\nTo the trumpets, do you like the way it sounds?\n\nI can't get enough, told you I just want it all\nI can't get enough, you ain't been doin' enough (Do you like the way it sounds?)\nSo cold, so cold\nIt's so cold, so cold, so cold\n\nYou could see the future, there's a sparkle in your eye\nWhy you all up on my thigh? Can't let you\nNiggas plottin' my demise, I got murder on my mind\nI got money on the line, I can't lose if I tried\nLet no bitch break my stride\nChosen, I'm gon' bet on me\nChosen, all my shit antique\nFrozen, I can't feel no heat\nDiamonds dancing on me\nYou startin' fresh, man, you fell out of pocket\nYou fucked that girl that you met at the party\nI got some new niggas down in the lobby\nHow can I sleep when you're out catchin' bodies?\nI still wanna be with you, trust me, I know that's insane\nI'd rather fuck on you than fuck on lames\nI did some shit in Berlin, I'm OD\nWe both ain't shit and it's workin' for me\nWorkin' for me, yeah\nI can see the future, I can see the future"}
{"text":"Drink slow to feed the nose, you know he likes to get blown\nHas he got enough money to spend?\nLeave? No! He's to and fro, he doesn't like it when the girls go\nHas he got enough money to spend?\n\nI ain't playin' with these niggas\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas (Straight up)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas (Straight up)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (Oh no)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas (Those niggas, La Flame)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (Straight up, straight up)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas\n\nKnow I need my dollars\nKnow a nigga need my commas (Straight up)\nShe was down when I dropped out of college\nDown, she was down when I rode Impalas (Slay)\nPlayed with her pussy in the Jeep\nYeah, she was down with the foreplay drivin' (Oh no)\nJumped in the car when she hit my digits\nDon't want nothin', just to pull up at the projects (Skrrt)\nEasy to me, my nigga\nVilla with a scene, youngin always seen with a killer (Straight up)\nHand-stitched by my dealer\nDealing with a seam you ain't seen, what you mean Margiela?\nShe even got the 'scripts for the cough\nIn the H gotta hit Johnny for the frost, swerved off\nAin't it been a minute since they seen a weird nigga from the corner put it on for the south? (Straight up)\nOn my mama, know a nigga be coastin' (Bless up)\nGo, nigga, go, nigga, grab my bottles\nGo, nigga, go, nigga, grab my chronic (Bando)\nKeep ya head up in the air, my nigga\nNiggas gon' be billionaires, my nigga (Straight up)\nFuck how much time that shit might take\nNiggas, ain't playin' with 'em (Playin' with 'em, playin' with 'em, playin' with 'em)\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (Niggas)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas (Straight up)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (La Flame)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playing with these niggas (For sure, oh, no)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (La Flame, you know I got you, nigga, you my brother)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas (On God)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (B.I.G Sean Don, my aura gold, straight up, you know it)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas (Niggas)\n\nBitch, don't you play me, don't you try me\nI need the exact amount\nLook at my face, ho, eye-to-eye me\nI'm a boss, make sure you and your homies dress up, tight attire\nWhen you see me, ho, or I'll take that white tee and tie-dye dye it\nI mean, goddamn, nigga\nYou forgot where I came from? I'm from where you ain't from\nWhere you can't come, where it ain't none\nWhere these bitches is bitches and they ain't nuns\nWhere they hate from\nBut as soon as you blow, they act like they been down since day one\nWhere there's fuckin' tank guns\nBut niggas never join the army, like it ain't one\nIf I ain't got it, then I'm huntin'\nI'm either countin' or I'm cummin'\nSwear I just done bought that mansion\nTreat that shit like it's a dungeon\nUp at 5 A.M., still workin', but I treat it like it's one\nI'm never actin' like I got it\nBitch, I'm actin' like I won it on these niggas\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (Niggas, swerve, swerve, swerve, swerve)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas (Straight up)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (That Detroit nigga, La Flame)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playing with these niggas (La Flame, oh no)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (Those niggas)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas (Niggas)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas (Straight up)\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these\u2014 (Detroit)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas\nI ain't playin' with these niggas\nI ain't playin' with, I ain't playin' with these niggas"}
{"text":"You the one, you know me the best\nYou the one I call when I'm stressed\nThis the time of the year I feel alone\nThis the time of the year you treat me wrong\nYeah, this the late night, you know the deal (Deal)\nOn a late night, nowhere to chill\nYeah, I'm on the west, yeah, I'm on the west side\nOff the drugs, know I'm not the best guy\nBut you know I always get it done, yeah\nYou done had all of the rappers, I'm the one, yeah\nAin't gon' lie, I remember how it feels, yeah\nI ain't gon' lie, I'ma tell you this for real\n(Woah)\nSplit a pack of the woods down\nRide with me, yeah, you wish you could now\nAlways come and go and never fail\nIt was never love, I can tell now\nShe pop 'em up, Blue Chanel just to get it up\nParking lot full of foreign hoes on the regular\nWith them painted toes in them heels\nLet's go find a place that's far from here, for real\nFar from here\n\nNights like this, nights like this, I wish I could do the impossible\nI wish I could do the impossible\nNights like this, nights like this, I wish\nI could do the impossible, I could do the impossible\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nYeah, you the one, you know me the best\nYou the one I call when I'm stressed (This the time)\nThis the time of year when I'm alone\nThis the time of the year we get our own\nI can't lie when I'm out on the west\nYeah, the west, yeah, yeah, the west side\nAnd lately, I ain't been feeling the best\n'Cause you the best, yeah, you my best side\nNow you know what you're dealing with\nNow you know what's wrong, what the feeling is\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nRastas rolling in Benz up in here\nBandits poppin' them bars up\nMan, don't run up the bands up, make them gun claps in here\nNo fear, no fear, you rock, I hear\nI'm gon' let you know that the man is for real\nYeah, for real\nFar from here\n\nNights like this, nights like this, I wish I could do the impossible\nI wish I could do the impossible\nNights like this, nights like this, I wish\nI could do the impossible, I could do the impossible\nYou already (Yeah) know right? That you are irreplaceable (Irreplaceable)\nAnd I'm gonna take it slow, baby (Baby)\nYou already know right? That you are irreplaceable (Irreplaceable)\nAnd I'm gonna take it slow, baby (Baby)\n\nYeah\nI wish I could do the impossible\nI wish I could do the impossible\nI could do the impossible"}
{"text":"My Lambo gon' skrrt, my crib ain't got service\nI got shit to lose, that shit make me nervous\nI got shit to lose, gotta keep my cool\nGotta watch the dupes, can't let them come through\nI got shit to lose\nHold up, wait, more to gain, more at stake\nI got shit to do\nHad to move, with the crew, away from you\n\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nAnd you never liked it, and you never liked them\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nAnd you never liked it, and you never liked them\n\nMy Lambo gon' skrrt, my crib ain't got service\nI got shit to lose, that shit make me nervous\nI got shit to lose, gotta keep my cool\nGotta watch the dupes, can't let them come through\nI got shit to lose\nHold up, wait, more to gain, more at stake\nI got shit to do\nHad to move, with the crew, away from you\nSee Travis Scott LiveGet tickets as low as $14You might also like\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nAnd you never liked it, and you never liked them\nAnd I never liked it, and I never liked them\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nAnd you never liked it, and you never liked them\nAnd I never liked it, and I never liked them\n\nYou know what, we grew on\nWe go back like futons and coupons\nWe too bad, we too wild, we too young\nShake some, my niggas gon' shake some\nFall through and break somethin'\nBroad day, and take somethin'\nBackwards, I've been livin' backwards\nOn my mattress, orgies on my mattress\nFlashes, dreamin', havin' flashes\nDashin', hopin' I don't crash it\n\nMy Lambo gon' skrrt, my crib ain't got service\nI got shit to lose, that shit make me nervous\nI got shit to lose, gotta keep my cool\nGotta watch the dukes, can't let them come through\nI got shit to lose\nHold up, wait, more to gain, more at stake\nI got shit to do\nHad to move, with the crew, away from you\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nAnd you never liked it, and you never liked them\nAnd I never liked it, and I never liked them\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nSteady with the crew, steady with the crew\nAnd you never liked it, and you never liked them\nAnd I never liked it, and I never liked them"}
{"text":"I'm on that good kush and alcohol (Mike WiLL Made-It)\nI got some down bitches I can call (What's hatnin'?)\nI don't know what I would do without y'all\nI'ma ball 'til the day I fall (I'ma ball, ball, ball)\n\nYeah, long as my bitches love me (Yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah)\nI can give a fuck 'bout no hater\nLong as my bitches love me (Yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah)\nYeah, I can give a fuck 'bout no nigga\nLong as these bitches love me\n\nUh, pussy-ass nigga, stop hatin'\nLil Tunechi got that fire\nAnd these hoes love me like Satan, man\nYeah, fuck with me and get bodied\nAnd all she eat is dick\nShe's on a strict diet, that's my baby\nWith no makeup, she a ten\nAnd she the best with that head\nEven better than Karrine\nShe don't want money\nShe want the time that we could spend\nShe said, \"'Cause I really need somebody\nSo tell me you're that somebody\"\nGirl, I fuck who I want, and fuck who I don't\nGot that A1 credit, that's that filet mignon\nShe said, \"I never want to make you mad\nI just want to make you proud\"\nI said, \"Baby, just make me cum\nThen don't make a sound\"\nSlick Tunechi\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI'm on that good kush and alcohol (Yeah)\nI got some down bitches I can call (What's hatnin'?)\nI don't know what I would do without y'all\nI'ma ball 'til the day I fall (I'ma ball, ball, ball)\n\nYeah, long as my bitches love me (My bitches love me) (Yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah)\nI can give a fuck 'bout no hater\nLong as my bitches love me (My bitches love me, my bitches love me, my bitches love me) (Yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah)\nYeah, I can give a fuck 'bout no nigga\nLong as these bitches love me\n\nUh, real nigga, fuck these haters\nThese hoes got pussies like craters\nCan't treat these hoes like ladies, man\nPussy, money, weed, codeine\nShe said my dick feel like morphine\nI hope my name taste like sardines to these niggas\nShe wake up, eat this dick\nCall that breakfast in bed, 69, 96\nI feel her heartbeat, I chest-to-chest with this bitch\nNow turn around, face down; I'm arrestin' this bitch\nYeah, all my bitches love me, and I love all my bitches\nBut it's like as soon as I cum, I come to my senses\nAnd I would say these hoes' names\nBut then I would be snitchin'\nAnd these haters try to knock me\nBut they can't knock me off the hinges\nLil Tunechi\nI'm on that good kush and alcohol (Yeah)\nI got some down bitches I can call (What's hatnin'?)\nI don't know what I would do without y'all (I don't know what I would do without y'all)\nI'ma ball 'til the day I fall (I'ma ball, ball, ball) (I'ma ball)\n\nYeah, long as my bitches love me (My bitches love me) (Yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah)\nI can give a fuck 'bout no hater\nLong as my bitches love me (My bitches love me, my bitches love me, my bitches love me) (Yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah)\nYeah, I can give a fuck 'bout\n\nI lost a few good bitches, met some more bad bitches\nAnd I be schooling them niggas, pose for your class picture\nNow kiss my ass if you hatin', I'm getting ass, or I'm skatin'\nI lost a few good bitches, met some more bad bitches\nAnd I be schooling them niggas, pose for your class picture\nNow kiss my ass if you hatin', I'm getting ass, or I'm skatin'\nBitch\n\nI'm on that good kush and alcohol (Tunech)\nI got some down bitches I can call (What's hatnin'?)\nI don't know what I would do without y'all (I don't know what I would do without y'all)\nI'ma ball 'til the day I fall (I'ma ball, ball, ball) (I'ma ball)\nYeah, long as my bitches love me (My bitches love) (Yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah)\nI can give a fuck 'bout no hater\nLong as my bitches love me (My bitches love me, my bitches love me, my bitches love me) (Yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah; yeah, yeah)\nYeah, I can give a fuck 'bout no nigga (Yeah)\nLong as these bitches love me"}
{"text":"I got a story to tell, you know that I cherish thee\nHope it ain't too many feelings involved\n\nI see niggas in this bitch stunting, popping bottles\nGetting drunk with these bitches\nThen when they leave, they get followed\nFall asleep with that bitch\nAnd really don't know much about her\nThen she let us in, we take all of your shit\nAnd when you wake up, she help you try to find it, I love her\n\nI be with bitches that be with bitches\nThat be with niggas with riches\nI tell her, \"Get him,\" she say, \"I got you\"\nI say, \"No, bitch, I said get him\" (Ha)\nAnd they so pretty, and they hair lengthy\nHe hit it and sleep on her titties\nThen she give us the word, we come through with AKs\nIt's a stick-up, she scream like a victim, now you\nFeeling so silly, I smoke color purple\nI'm up in here feeling like Celie, ooh\nNappy-ass dreads, what's that you say?\nWatch your mouth, Milli Vanilli, ooh\nYou can get snaked, you can get faked\nOut by the bitch that you feeling 'cause you\nThought that she was an angel, that bitch ain't no angel\nI treat her halo like a frisbee, and you\nTell her your business, she tell me your business\nYou tell that bitch what you feeling\nAll of the beans you be spilling, to you\nShe lie through her teeth; cavities, fillings\nShe know where you hide it, tell me where it's hidden\nShe know when you gone, tell me when to visit\nWe break in your home and take the specifics\nAnd meanwhile, the bitch is on vacation with him\nSo she don't get blamed, we don't snatch chains\nWe find out addresses, and we don't leave messes\nYou'll only know that it's gone when you checking\nThen your first thought is to start second guessing\nShe say, \"What's wrong?\" He say, \"Nothing, keep resting,\"\nShe say, \"What's missing?\"\u2014\"How you know something missing?\"\nHe scratched his head, she say, \"Get back in bed,\"\nThen she gave him some head, boy, you can't trust them bitches\nAnd then she say, \"Ooh\"\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI see niggas in this bitch stunting, popping bottles\nGetting drunk with these bitches\nThen when they leave, they get followed\nI be with bitches that know the bitches\nThat's with the niggas we following\nGet them on the line, stay two cars behind\nAnd tell them hoes, \"Don't be so obvious!\"\nMona Lisa, long hair, don't care\nShe handle the business and don't ever tell\nShe bite the bullet and cough up the shell\nShe tell 'em, \"Ooh, daddy, let's go to your place,\"\nAnd if he say yeah,  then we meet 'em there\nShe feed him lies with his silverware\nShe don't want love, she just want her share, I\n\nKnow a bitch named Liz\nThis nigga think she his 'cause she tell him that it is\nSo, he tell her all his secrets, he tell her all his fears\nAnd then she tell me, and I be all ears\nThen I go and tell my people, and they already know it\nAnd then I call Liz, and she say he coming over\nI say, \"Good girl, just remember what I told you\"\nShe gave me a salute, I say, \"Girl, you're a soldier!\"\nWe waiting outside, watch him pull up\nWalk up to the door, and right before he knocked\nShe open the door naked, she left it unlocked\nThey started French kissing so he didn't see moi\nAnd then she let him in, they stopped on the couch\nMusic up loud with his head in the clouds\nTurn that shit down, and I scared the piss out him\nPiss a nigga off, put the gun to his frown\n\"Nigga, turn around, I ain't here to fuck around\nI ain't here to fuck around, caught you with your pants down\nYou know what it is, put your fucking hands up!\nLiz, that's enough, you can put your hands down\"\nThen he looked dead at her and he shook his head at her\nShe a good actress, and you a dead actor\nYou'll be dead after we get what we after\nIf Liz call you daddy, she 'bout to be a bastard, oh\nI got way too many bitches that do anything for me, nigga\nBut think for me, nigga\nSend her to you like she ain't for me, nigga\nI hope you alone like bankruptcy, nigga\nShe pour you a drink, that drink on me, nigga\nShe slip something in it, now faint for me, nigga\nMona Lisa, I done painted the picture\nMo-Mona Lisa, out the frame on these niggas\nPussy got you out of character, nigga\nYou fall for these hoes off your ladder, my nigga\nTake everything that you have 'til you don't even have\nAn opinion, we have your attention\nAnd now you looking down a barrel though, nigga\nNow she looking for her pantyhose, nigga\nWe just looking for the casserole, nigga\nBut she gon' show us where you stash it though, nigga, Mona\nAh, every day she wake up with a different color makeup\nAnd a promise he gon' take her to the movie and the mall\nChilling with the Laker, on the floor, fourth quarter\nFor a minute on the clock, Black Mamba with the ball\nPaparazzi looking at 'em both, popping up and take a picture, uh\nProbably on an internet blog\nIn a minute, he gon' be admitting that he love her\nOn his mother, man, he want to meet her mother by tomorrow\n(Mona Lisa)\nPussy good enough, it got him sinning in the walls\nAnd he digging in it like he living in it, make a new religion with it\nMan, a nigga 'bout to go against God\nPoetry in the pear trees\nSweet tone like a hummingbird when she asked him\nDid he want to make love in a yellow taxi?\nNever gave two fucks, jumped in the backseat\nWoke up in the morning to The Great Gatsby\nThen he dogged it again like the bitch Lassie\nI'm a dog in the wind, I'm a pet laughing\nI'ma call up again like I did last week\nMake good with the friend, and I'm all jazzy\nBritney with the twin and the girl, Ashley\nFound out that I fucked, he was unhappy\nBitch, I never let the bullshit get past me\nBetter yet, I wanna break up, don't you ask me\n'Bout no motherfucking double standard, acting\nFucking on another nigga, that's a negative alone\nBut you sucked his dick? That's just nasty\nMatter fact, bitch, gimme your phone! (No!)\nYou fucking with Wayne's!? (No!)\nBitch, gimme your phone! (No! Let me, let me take this call real quick\u2014like a lollipop)\nHe on your fucking ringtone!? Is that the shit that you do!?\nTouching yourself, looking at Kendrick videos\nJump on the internet, watching his interviews\nI don't know what the fuck lately gotten into you\nTell me who love you, I bet I love harder\nForgot all the shit that I did for your daughter?\nThe Pampers, the Pedialyte and my momma\nDaycare after school and she never did charge ya\nYou scandalous as fuck, and I hope you blow up\nYou know what? I give up, let me go get my gun\nI got one in the chamber I'm planning on aiming\nGoddammit, you know that the damage is done\nBitch, I'm emotional 'cause I'm in stress\nI'm not supposed to go through this, I guess\nSo in conclusion\nSince you like rappers that's killing that pussy, I'm killing myself\nShe say, \"Ooh, daddy, ooh,\"\nMona Lisa, Mona Lisa\nOoh, fake smile (Ooh)\nMona Lisa, Mona Lisa\nShe say, \"Ooh,\" dead emotion (Ooh)\nMona Lisa, Mona Lisa\nNow he get the picture\nMona Lisa, Mona Lisa, yeah"}
{"text":"Six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch\nSix-six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch\n\nAhem\nExcuse my charisma, vodka with a spritzer\nSwagger down pat; call my shit Patricia\nYoung Money militia, and I am the commissioner\nYou no wan' start Weezy 'cause the 'F' is for finisher\nSo misunderstood, but what's a world without enigma?\nTwo bitches at the same time; synchronized swimmers\nGot the girl twisted 'cause she open when you twist her\nNever met the bitch, but I fuck her like I missed her\nLife is the bitch, and death is her sister\nSleep is the cousin\u2014what a fuckin' family picture\nYou know Father Time, and we all know Mother Nature\nIt's all in the family, but I am of no relation\nNo matter who's buyin', I'm a celebration\nBlack and white diamonds; fuck segregation\nFuck that shit, my money up, you niggas just Honey Nut\nYoung Money runnin' shit, and you niggas just runner-ups\nI don't feel I done enough, so I'ma keep on doin' this shit\nLil Tunechi or Young Tuna Fish, ha!\n\nSix-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch (Yeah)\nSix-six-foot, seven-foot, eight-foot bunch (I'm goin' back in)\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nOkay\nI lost my mind, it's somewhere out there stranded\nI think you stand under me if you don't understand me\nHad my heart broken by this woman named Tammy\nBut hoes gon' be hoes, so I couldn't blame Tammy\nJust talked to Moms, told her she the sweetest\nI beat the beat up; call it self-defense\nSwear, man, I be seein' through these niggas like sequins\nNiggas think they He-Men, pow, pow, the end\nTalkin' to myself because I am my own consultant\nMarried to the money, fuck the world; that's adultery\nYou full of shit, you close your mouth and let yo' ass talk\nYoung Money eatin', all you haters do is add salt\nStop playin', bitch, I got this game on deadbolt\nMind so sharp, I fuck around and cut my head off\nReal nigga all day and tomorrow\nBut these ma'fuckers talkin' crazy like they jaw broke\nGlass half empty, half full, I'll spill ya\nTry me and run into a wall; outfielder\nYou know I'ma ball 'til they turn off the field lights\nThe fruits of my labor, I enjoy 'em while they still ripe\nBitch, stop playin', I do it like a king do\nIf these niggas animals, then I'ma have a mink soon\nTell 'em bitches I say put my name on the wall\nI speak the truth, but I guess that's a foreign language to y'all\nAnd I call it like I see it, and my glasses on\nBut most of y'all don't get the picture 'less the flash is on\nSatisfied with nothin', you don't know the half of it\nYoung Money, Cash Money... uh\nPaper chasin', tell that paper, \"Look, I'm right behind ya\"\nBitch, real G's move in silence like lasagna\nPeople say I'm borderline crazy, sorta kinda\nWoman of my dreams, I don't sleep, so I can't find her\nYou niggas are gelatin, peanuts to an elephant\nI got through that sentence like a subject and a predicate\nYeah, with a swag, you would kill for\nMoney too strong; pockets on bodybuilder\nJumped in a wishin' well, now wish me well\nTell 'em kiss my ass, call it kiss and tell\nYeah, word to my mama, I'm out of my lima bean\nDon't wanna see what that drama mean, get some Dramamine\nLlama scream, hotter than summer sun on a Ghana queen\nNow all I want is hits, bitch, Wayne signed a fiend\nI-I play the side for you niggas that's tryna front, and see\nSon of Gun, Son of Sam, you niggas the son of me\nPause for this dumber speech, I glow like Buddha\nDisturb me, and you'll be all over the flo' like Luda\nBitch, I flow like scuba, bitch, I'm bold like Cuba\nAnd I keep a killer ho, she gon' blow right through ya\nI be mackin', 'bout my stackin', amount I pack like a mover\nShout to ratchet for backin' out on behalf of my shooter\nNiggas think they high as I, I come laugh at your ruler\nCash Money cold, bitch, but our actions is cooler, Wayne\nThese niggas out they mind, I done told these fuck niggas so many times\nThat I keep them bucks steady on my mind, tuck these, I fuck these on your mind, pause\nTo feed them, on my grind, did I get a little love, keep throwin' my sign\nIn the middle, hit 'em up, piece on my side, \u2018cause ain't no peace on my side\nBitch, I'm a man, I visit urinals abroad\nTune told me to, I'm shootin' when the funeral outside\nI'm uptown, thoroughbred, a BX nigga\nYa heard? Gunna"}
{"text":"\nI'm the only one that get the job done\nI don't know a nigga that could cover for me\nYeah, got some game from my dad\nHe said she might say she love me\nShe don't love me like she say she love me\nBelieve me, believe me\nI'm that nigga, boy they love me in the streets\nI'm not tryna find nobody else to beat\nI'm the one they come to see because they all\nBelieve me\n\nYeah, rip, rip rip\nIt's been me and Young Tune off the rip\nThat's the man that put me in this shit\nIf a nigga fuck with him, I'll put him down quick\nGot a verse for anybody wanna talk about the clique\nI've been takin' shit light, you don't wanna hear me trip\nGod damn, do y'all really know who y'all fuckin' with?\nYeah, I mean you can't blame me for wonderin'\nDoesn't matter, could be winter or the summer\nOn the road, I do One Direction numbers, I don't fuckin' miss\nYeah, Stunna and Mack know\nWhen Wayne was gone for eight months, we put this thing up on our back\nAnd I was snappin' off on every single track though\nCollect call from the boss like where we at though\nI was like, \"Hah, it's our time, nigga\"\nHe left Rikers in a Phantom, that's my nigga\nAnd I'll been rockin' with the team 'til Carter IX\nAnd we YMCMB, waitin' on somebody to try us, nigga\nYeah\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI'm the only one that get the job done\nI don't know a nigga that could cover for me\nYeah, got some game from my dad\nHe said she might say she love me\nShe don't love me like she say she love me\nBelieve me, believe me\nI'm that nigga, boy they love me in the streets\nI'm not tryna find nobody else to beat\nI'm the one they come to see because they all\nBelieve me\n\nLord knows I'll murk one of these niggas, yeah\nHis and hers Ferraris, nigga\nOne for me, one for my daughter, nigga\nWaitin' for someone to test me like a Harvard nigga\nI tote a 223, two Michael Jordans, nigga\nCome on, fight these shell cases like a lawyer, nigga\nFind out where you stay, and act like we found some oil, nigga\nOut of duct tape so when he prayin' I ignore the nigga\nAll I gotta say is \"sayonara, nigga\"\nDrop dead gorgeous but the bitch ain't dyin' for a nigga\nWhere the real queens at? Shout out Capone and Noreaga\nWe can shoot it out and see who live to tell the story later\nDiamonds in my Rollie face cannot be exfoliated\nThey think I'm associated, I'm the one that orchestrated\nYayo get her ass whipped, whip that ass like horses racin'\nAin't 'bout what you walk away from, it's 'bout what you walk away with\nDead Presidents, them coffins vacant\nI must be doin' somethin'\nI'm the only one that get the job done\nI don't know a nigga that could cover for me\nYeah, got some game from my dad\nHe said she might say she love me\nShe don't love me like she say she love me\nBelieve me, believe me\nI'm that nigga, boy they love me in the streets\nI'm not tryna find nobody else to beat\nI'm the one they come to see because they all\nBelieve me\n\nHad to get it poppin' off the rip\nRich young nigga that ain't never had to trick\nSlim Thug flow but you know I like 'em thick\nIf she get a job at DOA, I drop her off a tip\nI had to get it poppin' off the rip\nI'm the one they tell yah been reppin' in the 6\nCome into the city and yah niggas get to trippin'\nWe'll take yah to the Scarborough Bluff and drop you off a cliff\nWell damn, just be happy for the man\nNirvana, Coldplay, nigga got bands\nInk from the money, got it all over my hands\nGoin' out to Houston, spendin' all of my advance\nV Live just took me for a cheque\n\"Drake you know I love you, you just took me outta debt\"\nYes, right now you are lookin' at the best\nMothafuck award shows and mothafuck the press like that\nMothafuck the rest\nWhen they jumped off the porch, I was stumblin' up the steps\nI'd give what I collect before I give up my connect\nIt'd be a cold day in Hell, icicles made of sweat\nOne finger, slidin' 'cross my neck\nNiggas know what that mean like they deaf\nNigga I'll fire this nina like it's her first day\nOn the job and the bitch overslept\nTune stay humble, nigga I'm a king\nNeed a horn and a drumroll\nThey throw mothafuckin' roses at my feet, nigga\nI don't step on one rose\nI'm the only one that get the job done\nI don't know a nigga that can cover for me\nTape a couple kilos to the bitch stomach\nShe look like she got a bun in the oven from me\nPreheat, believe me\nAll you gotta do is pay me every week\nI had these bitches havin' babies every week\nI'm the nigga, see me skatin' in the streets\nGone\n\nRip rip, nigga1.7KEmbed"}
{"text":"Uh, with everything happening today\nYou don't know whether you're coming or going, but\nYou think that ya on your way\nLife lined up on the mirror, don't blow it\n\nWoah, look at me when I'm talking to you\nYou looking at me but I'm looking through you\nI see the blood in your eyes\nI see the love in disguise\nI see the pain hidden in your pride\nI see you're not satisfied\nAnd I don't see nobody else\nI see myself, I'm looking at the\n\nMirror on the wall (Woah)\nHere we are again (Yeah)\nThrough my rise and fall (Uh)\nYou've been my only friend (Yeah)\nYou told me that they can\nUnderstand the man I am\nSo why are we here\nTalking to each other again?\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nUh, I see the truth in your lies\nI see nobody by your side\nBut I'm with you when you're all alone\nAnd you correct me when I'm looking wrong\nI see the guilt beneath the shame\nI see your soul through your window pane\nI see the scars that remain\nI see Wayne, I'm lookin' at the\n\nMirror on the wall\nHere we are again (Yeah)\nThrough my rise and fall (Uh-huh)\nYou've been my only friend (My only friend)\nYou told me that they can\nUnderstand the man I am (They can't understand)\nSo why are we here (Misunderstood)\nTalking to each other again? (Woah)\n\nLooking at me now I can see my past\nDamn, I look just like my fucking dad\nLight it up, that's smoke and mirrors\nI even look good in a broken mirror\nI see my mama smile, that's a blessing\nI see the change, I see the message\nAnd no message could've been any clearer\nSo I'm starting with the man in the\nMirror on the wall (MJ taught me that)\nHere we are again\nThrough my rise and fall (Uh)\nYou've been my only friend (Take 'em to Mars, man)\nYou told me that they can\nUnderstand the man I am\nSo why are we\nTalking to each other again? (Uh)\nMirror on the wall (Woah)\nHere we are again (Yeah)\nThrough my rise and fall\nYou've been my only friend (Any questions?)\nYou told me that they can (I come to you)\nUnderstand the man I am (You always have the answer)\nSo why are we here\nTalking to each other again?\n\nMirror on the wall\nHey B.P, looks like I did take 'em to Mars this time\nSo why are we\nTalking to each other again?"}
{"text":"Ugh, AK on my nightstand, right next to that Bible\nBut I swear, with these fifty shots, I'll shoot it out with Five-O\nPockets gettin' too fat, no Weight Watchers, no lipo\nMoney talks, bullshit walks on a motherfucking tightrope\nAnd I make that pussy tap out, I knock that pussy out cold\nNigga, you get beat the crap out, but that's just how the dice roll\nThese hoes want that hose-pipe, so I give all these hoes pipe\nShe get on that dick and stay on, all night, like porch lights\nLet's do it, fuck talking, we out here, we ballin'\nAnd I'm spraying at these rusty niggas like WD-40\nWe fucked up, we Truk'd up; no if, ands, or butt-fucks\nBitch niggas go behind your back like nunchucks, and that's fucked up\nBut my hoes down, my cups up, my niggas down for whatever\nThese bitches think they're too fly, well, tell them hoes I pluck feathers\nI'm Tunechi, Young Tunechi, I wear Trukfit, fuck Gucci\nShe blowing kisses at me with her pussy lips, smooches\nAnd that's 2 Chainz\n\nLook at you (Aw), now look at us\nAll my niggas look rich as fuck (Yeah)\nAll my niggas live rich as fuck (Yeah)\nAll\u2014All my niggas look rich as fuck (Yeah)\nLook at you (Look at you), now look at us (Now look at us)\nAll my niggas look rich as fuck (Bitch)\nAll my\u2014All my niggas live rich as fuck (You hoe-ass bi\u2014)\nAll my\u2014All\u2014All my ni\u2014\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nUgh, never talk to the cops, I don't speak Pig Latin\nI turned a penny to a motherfuckin Janet Jackson\nTell the bitches that be hatin' I ain't got no worries\nI just want to hit and run like I ain't got insurance, ho\nWhat's your name? What's your sign? Zodiac Killer\nAll rats gotta die, even Master Splinter\nYeah, murder, one-eighty-seven\nI be killing them bitches, I hope all dogs go to heaven\nAnd I got Xanax, Percocet, promethazine with codeine\nCall me Mr. Sandman, I'm sellin' all these hoes dreams\nGot a white girl with big titties, flat-ass, TV screen\nI keep a bad bitch, call me \"The B.B. King\"\nAnd you know I got that mouth out her\nThen put that bitch out like a house fire\nI'm killing these hoes like Michael Myers\nI eat that cat just like a lion\nAnd I can't trust none of these niggas\nCan't trust none of these hoes\nAnd I see your girl when I want\nI got that ho TiVo'd, ugh\nGot a red-ass bitch with a red-ass pussy\nNigga try me, that's a dead-ass pussy\nSince y'all motherfuckers so blind to the fact\nTo tell you the truth, I don't care who's lookin'\nAll I know is I love my bitch\nAnd pussy feel just like Heaven on Earth\nSix feet deep, dick shovelin' the dirt\nRIP: Rest In Pussy\nLight that shit, then pass that shit, we gon' get so smoked out\nAnd then I went, got locked up; every night, I dreamt I broke out\nOne time for them pussy niggas\u2014that's that shit I don't like\nWe eatin' over here, nigga\u2014fuck around and have a food fight\nAnd that's 2 Chainz\nLook at you (Uh), now look at us (Yeah)\nAll my niggas look rich as fuck (What?)\nAll my niggas live rich as fuck (What?)\nAll-all my niggas look rich as fuck (Yeah)\nLook at you, now look at us (Aye fuck all y'all bitches, straight up)\nAll my niggas look rich as fuck (Any bitch out there that ain't never wanna give me no pussy)\nAll my-all my niggas live rich as fuck (Fuck you in your asshole, bitch)\nAll my-all-all my niggas look rich as fuck\n\nAnd your nigga a hoe"}
{"text":"Bangladesh\nYoung Money!\nYou dig?\nMack, I'm going in\n\nA millionaire, I'm a Young Money millionaire\nTougher than Nigerian hair\nMy criteria compared to your career just isn't fair\nI'm a venereal disease, like a menstrual bleed\nThrough the pencil, and leak on the sheet of the tablet in my mind\n'Cause I don't write shit, 'cause I ain't got time\n'Cause my seconds, minutes, hours go to the almighty dollar\nAnd the almighty power of that ch-cha-cha-cha-chopper\nSister, brother, son, daughter, father; mother-fuck a copper\nGot the Maserati dancin' on the bridge, pussy poppin'\nTell the coppers, \"Ha-ha-ha-ha\nYou can't catch him, you can't stop him\"\nI go by them goon rules: if you can't beat 'em, then you pop 'em\nYou can't man 'em, then you mop 'em\nYou can't stand 'em, then you drop 'em\nYou pop 'em 'cause we pop 'em like Orville Redenbacher\n\nMotherfucker, I'm ill\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nA million here, a million there\nSicilian bitch with long hair, with coke in her derri\u00e8re\nLike smoking the thinnest air\nI open the Lamborghini, hopin' them crackers see me\nLike, \"Look at that bastard Weezy!\"\nHe's a beast, he's a dog, he's a mothafuckin' problem\nOkay, you're a goon, but what's a goon to a goblin?\nNothin', nothin', you ain't scarin' nothin'\nOn some faggot bullshit: call 'em Dennis Rodman\nCall me what you want, bitch! Call me on my Sidekick!\nNever answer when it's private, damn, I hate a shy bitch\nDon't you hate a shy bitch? Yeah, I ate a shy bitch\nShe ain't shy no more, she changed her name to My Bitch, haha\nYeah, nigga, that's my bitch, so when she ask\nFor the money when you through, don't be surprised, bitch!\nAnd it ain't trickin' if you got it\nBut you like a bitch with no ass: You ain't got shit\nMotherfucker, I'm ill, not sick\nAnd I'm okay, but my watch sick, yeah, my drop sick\nYeah, my Glock sick, and my knot thick \u2014 I'm it\n\nMotherfucker, I'm ill\n\nSee, they say I'm rappin' like B.I.G., Jay, and 2Pac\nAndr\u00e9 3000, where is Erykah Badu at? Who that?\nWho that said they gon' beat Lil Wayne?\nMy name ain't Bic, but I keep that flame, man\nWho that one that do that, boy?\nYou knew that true that, swallow\nAnd I be the shit, now you got loose bowels\nI don't owe you like two vowels\nBut I would like for you to pay me by the hour, haha\nAnd I'd rather be pushin' flowers\nThan to be in the pen sharin' showers\nTony told us this world was ours\nAnd the Bible told us every girl was sour\nDon't play in her garden and don't smell her flower\nCall me Mr. Carter or Mr. Lawn Mower\nBoy, I got so many bitches, like I'm Mike Lowrey\nEven Gwen Stefani said she couldn't doubt me\nMotherfucker, I say \"Life ain't shit without me\"\nChrome lips pokin' out the coupe, look like it's poutin'\nI do what I do, and you do what you can do about it\nBitch, I can turn a crack rock into a mountain \u2014 dare me\nDon't you compare me, 'cause there ain't nobody near me\nThey don't see me but they hear me\nThey don't feel me but they fear me\nI'm illy, C3, 3 Peat"}
{"text":"Young Money!\nYeah\nFour\nAhem!\n\nI tell her, \"Now go and pop that pussy for a real nigga\"\nI already know that life is deep, but I still dig her\nNiggas is jealous, but really I could care less\nI'm in Hell's Kitchen with an apron and a hairnet\nDevil on my shoulder, the Lord as my witness\nSo on my Libra scale I'm weighin' sins and forgiveness\nWhat goes around comes around like a hula hoop\nKarma is a bitch? Well, just make sure that bitch is beautiful\nLife on the edge, I'm danglin' my feet\nI tried to pay attention but attention paid me\nHaters can't see me: nose-bleed seats\nAnd today I went shoppin' and talk is still cheap\nI rock to the beat of my drum set\nI been at the top for a while and I ain't jump yet\nBut I'm Ray Charles to the bullshit\nNow jump up on that dick and do a full split!\n\nUh, she just started to pop it for a nigga\nAnd looked back and told me, \"Baby, it's real.\"\nAnd I say, \"I ain't doubt you for a second.\"\nI squeeze it and I could tell how it feel\nI wish we could take off and go anywhere but here\nBaby, you know the deal\nAnd she bad, so maybe she won't, ugh\nBut shit, then again, maybe she will, yeah\nDo it for the realest niggas in the fuckin' game right now\nShe will, yeah\nDo it for the realest niggas in the fuckin' game right now\nShe will, she will, she will, ugh\nMaybe for the money and the power and the fame right now\nShe will, she will, she will (Ugh)\nDo it for the realest niggas in the fuckin' game right now\nShe will\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nYeah\n\nI tell her, \"Now go and pop that pussy for me!\"\nHaters can't see me, but them bitches still lookin' for me\nAnd you could take that to the bank and deposit that\nPut your two cents in and get a dollar back\nSome people hang you out to dry like a towel rack\nI'm all about I, give the rest of the vowels back\nI like my girl thick, not just kinda fine\nEat her 'til she cry\u2014call that \"whine 'n' dine\"\nTry to check me and I'ma have 'em checkin' pulses\nThey say, \"Choose wisely,\" that's why I was chosen\nRockin' like asphalt, it's the cash fault\nLooked in the face of Death and took its mask off\nNow, I like my house big and my grass soft\nI like my girl face south and her ass north\nBut I'm Ray Charles to the bullshit\nNow hop up on that dick and do a full split!\n\nUh, she just started to pop it for a nigga\nAnd looked back and told me, \"Baby, it's real.\"\nAnd I say, \"I ain't doubt you for a second.\"\nI squeeze it and I could tell how it feel\nI wish we could take off\nAnd go anywhere but here, baby, you know the deal\n\u2018Cause she bad so maybe she won't\nUh, but shit, then again, maybe she will\nDo it for the realest niggas\nIn the fuckin' game right now, she will\nDo it for the realest niggas\nIn the fuckin' game right now, she will\nMaybe for the money and the power\nAnd the fame right now, she will\nDo it for the realest niggas\nIn the fuckin' game right now, she will\nUh, she just started to pop it for a nigga\nAnd looked back and told me, \"Baby, it's real.\"\nAnd I say I ain't doubt you for a second\nI squeeze it and I could tell how it feel (I feel like the sky is opening, and I am entering)\nI wish we could take off and go anywhere but here baby you know the deal\n(Feel like like the world is falling and I am rising)\n'cause she bad, so maybe she won't\nUh, but shit then again maybe she will\nCarter 4 Tunechi\nDo it for the realest niggas in the fuckin' game right now\nShe will\nDo it for the realest niggas in the fuckin' game right now\nShe will, she will, she will\nMaybe for the money and the power and the fame right now\nShe will, she will, she will\nDo it for the realest niggas in the fuckin' game right now\nShe will, she will, she will\nI think I love her"}
{"text":"Yeah\nC5\n\nDon't cry (Oh), don\u2019t go\nWon't lie, I fuckin' love you, woah\n\nWhy y\u2019all staring into the clouds\nAm I rising or they comin' down?\nI see death around the corner\nAnd the U-turn sign's lookin' like a smile\nWhat do I do now? Who gon' find me, how?\nNowhere to turn but around and round\nJust another nigga that done lost his head\nNo, a fucking king that forgot his crown\nI am not number one, it's true\nI'm number 9-27-82\nColor blind even if I may be blue\nA lot on my plate, ain't my favorite food\nBut I\u2019m hungry, so hungry\nNeed my family tree next to a money tree\nWith a bunch of leaves in the Garden of Eden\nWith a bunch of Eves, no fruit punch for me\nI sip from the Fountain of Youth\nSo if I die young, blame the juice\nBury me in New Orleans\nTombstone reads, \"Don\u2019t cry, stay tuned\"\nBring me back to life\nGot to lose a life just to have a life\nBut if heaven's as good as advertised\nI want a triple extension on my motherfuckin\u2019 afterlife\nRest in paradise\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nDon't cry (Don't cry, don't cry), don\u2019t go (Why, oh why?)\nWon't lie, I fuckin' love you, woah\nDon't cry (Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry)\nDon't go (Why, oh why, oh why, oh why?)\nWon't lie (Don't cry, don't cry)\nI fuckin' love you, woah (Don't cry, don't cry)\n\nTalent is God-given, be grateful\nFame is not a given, be humble\nAnd conceit is self-driven, drive carefully\nStay in your own lane, seat buckled\nAnd sometimes when there is no music\nWe toot our own horns, rum-bum-bum-bum\nThat woman carried the future\nAnd Tunechi was born like, \"Dun-dun-dun-dun-dun\"\nDon't call it a comeback\nIt was dark, now the sun back\nHit me hard, but I punched back\nThe wheels fell off, I rode the hubcap\nIs it suicide or it's do or die?\nIt's newer days and it's bluer skies\nI told myself, \"It's just you and I\"\nThen the breeze came and it blew my mind\nLord knows who I'm there for\nI give my last breath of air for\nMama tell me to be careful\nVoice in my head give me an earful\nBut I got mind control over my control\nI lost control but knew I'd find control\nI let God control what I cannot control\nCan't control the tears, let 'em drop and roll (Let 'em drop and roll)\nDon't cry (Don't cry, don't cry)\nDon't go (Why, oh why, oh why?)\nWon't lie (Don't cry), I fuckin' love you, woah\n(Triple extension on my motherfuckin' afterlife, rest in paradise)\nDon't cry (Don't cry, don't cry)\nDon't go (Why, oh why, oh why?)\nWon't lie, I fuckin' love you, woah (Don't cry)\n\nDon't cry, stay tuned\nAnd triple extension on my motherfuckin' afterlife\nRest in paradise"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsLollipop (Remix) Lyrics\nHaha\nUh-huh\nNo homo (Young Mula, baby!)\nI say, he's so sweet, make her wanna lick the wrapper\nRemix, baby!\n\nLollipop, lollipop, breastses just like Dolly Parton\nShe ride my spaceship 'til she hit the top\nThat hit the spot\n'Til she ask, \"How many li-i-li-i-licks do it take\" 'til she get to shop?\nDon't worry why my wrists got so freeze\nTell a girl, \"Like Doritos, that's not 'cho cheese\"\nTell her friends, \"Like Fritos, I'm tryin' to lay\"\nI can't only have one, and I ain't trying to wait\nThis a song with Wayne, so you know it's gon' melt\nBut you ain't finna murder me like everybody else\nI'ma rap like I got some type respect for myself\nI don't do it for my health, man, I do it for the belt\nMan, I do it to the death, 'til the roof get melt\nHundred degrees, drop the roof, so the coupe don't melt\nMan, the flow so cold, chicken soup won't help\nWe need four more hoes, we need oh, oh, oh, oh!\nYou know what it is when we out of town\nWe balling too serious, and you out of bounds\nSo come here, baby girl\nYou're now fucking with the best in the world\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nLollipop\nThe best in the world\nSh-Sh-She lick me like a lollipop\nWorld, world\nShe\u2014 She lick me like a lollipop\n\nShawty want a thug, thug, thug\nBottles in the club, club, club (Bottles in the club)\nShawty wanna hump (Shawty wanna)\nYou know I like to touch (Shawty wanna)\nYour lovely lady lumps, lumps, lumps (Shawty wanna)\nShawty want a thug (I like that)\nBottles in the club (Hey, I like that)\nShawty wanna hump (I like that, haha!)\nYou know I like to touch your lovely lady lumps, lumps, lumps\n\nShawty say she wanna lick the wrapper\nAnd she gonna lick the rapper\nAnd I just wanna act like a porno-flicking actor\nI Anita-bake her; now, she caught up in that \"Rapture\"\nI got so much chips, I swear, they call me \"Hewlett Packard\"\nI got so much chips, you can have a bag if you're a snacker\nGreedy mother-fudge cake; now, tell me how that fudge tastes\nI do it for Bloods' sake\u2014soo-woo!\nThink it's voodoo how that roof do di-di-dissipate\nYour girl want to participate\nShe so, so sophisticate, 'cause her brain is off the chain\nAnd then, my diamonds are in the choir because they sing from off my chain\nAnd my Nina just joined the gang because all she do is bang\nLike Ricky Martin; Wayne and Kanye: pick your poison\nIf that woman wanna cut, then tell her I am Mr. Ointment\nTell her to make an appointment with Mr. I-Can't-Make-An-Appointment\nTake my lollipop and enjoy it\u2014remix!\nShawty want a thug, thug, thug (Shawty want a thug, yeah!)\nBottles in the club, club, club (Bottles in the club, yeah!)\nShawty wanna hump (Yeah! Shawty wanna)\nYou know I like to touch (Yeah! Shawty wanna)\nYour lovely lady lumps, lumps, lumps (Shawty wanna)\nShawty want a thug (I like that)\nBottles in the club (Hey, I like that)\nShawty wanna hump (I like that, haha!)\nYou know I like to touch your lovely lady lumps, lumps, lumps\n\nWhy would she? She probably be the odd cookie\nIn the plastic bag 'bout to get crushed by a building\nI've flushed out the feeling of me being the shit\n'Cause I was leaving skid marks on everywhere I sit\nI am everywhere, I'm it, like Hide-and-Go\nAnd I can go anywhere: eeny, mini, miney, mo\nI'm in your neighborhood, area, CD-thing, tapedeck\n\u200biPod, your girlfriend, and she say I got great sex\nSafe sex is great sex, better wear a latex\n'Cause you don't want that late text, that \"I think I'm late\" text\nHaha! So wrap it up!\nBu-Bu-But he's so sweet, sh-she wanna lick the wrapper\n\nShawty want a thug\nBottles in the club, club, club\nShawty wanna hump\nYou know I like to touch\nYour lovely lady lumps, lumps, lumps (Re-Re-Re-Remix, baby!)\nLick me like a lollipop (Lollipop)\nShe\u2014 She lick me like a lollipop (L-Lollipop)\nSh-Sh-Sh-She lick me like a lollipop (Lollipop)\nShe\u2014 She lick me like a lollipop (Lollipop)"}
{"text":"Yeah, I put my shades on\n\nI live it up like these are my last days\nIf time is money, I'm an hour past paid\nUgh, gunpowder in my hourglass\nNiggas faker than some flour in a powder bag\nYeah, I put it down like my hands hurting\nI'm on a natural high, but I land perfect\nSome of us are lovers, most of y'all haters\nBut I put up a wall, and they just wallpaper\nSo love or hate me, I stay hate-free\nThey say we learn from mistakes; why, that's why they mistake me\nI got some weight on my shoulders, to me it's like feathers\nAll hail Weezy, call it bad weather\nI stick to the script, I memorize the lines\nCause life is a movie that I've seen too many times\nYou're on the outside looking in, close the blinds\nAnd they say never say never, but fuck it, nevermind\nI've been gone too long, true or false, right or wrong\nHello Weezy, welcome home, yeah\n\nAnd I'm a blunt-blowin', Polo-drawers-showin'\nI-don't-give-a-lovely-motherfuck-ass-nigga\nWith my money growing, no matter where you going\nYou don't need a bus pass for me to bust yo ass, nigga\nI'm a blunt-blowin', Polo-drawers-showin'\nI-don't-give-a-lovely-motherfuck-ass-nigga\nWith my money growing, no matter where you going\nYou don't need a bus pass for me to bust yo ass, nigga\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nStunna, I got 'em, I'm back on them bitches\nAll about my riches, my name should be Richard\nCut the bullshit out, I'm Edward with the scissors\nLife is a choice, and death is a decision\nTimes have changed, but fuck it get a new watch\nI still got the vision like a line between two dots\nYoung Money's eating, the label getting fatter\nAnd yea, the tables turned, but I'm still sitting at 'em\nI'm a bad motherfucker cause the good die young\nEverybody selling dreams, I'm too cheap to buy one\nMan, when that cookie crumble, everybody want a crumb\nShoot that hummingbird down, hummingbird don't hum\nYea, big money, big money, deep pockets\nMoney talks, and motherfuckers eavesdropping\nBunch of bloods, you could call it blood clotting\nEastside, MOB Piru Damu\n\nI'm a blunt-blowin', Polo-drawers-showin'\nI-don't-give-a-lovely-motherfuck-ass-nigga\nWith my teeth glowing, I'm on my Deebowin'\nYou don't need a bus pass for me to bust yo ass, nigga\n\nLight that Ashton Kutcher, I'm a limit pusher\nSee y'all dead meat, and me I'm just a butcher\nI do it for the money, man I am such a hooker\nAnd freedom was my girl, until they fucking took her\nYou can look into the future, it's right behind your eyelids\nBut I don't wanna know, cause shit I like surprises\nWhy that, why this, why you on that why shit?\nMotherfucker ask me why, I say YM\nBeach bum, call me Ocean Drive Slim\nDrop the top, look up and make the sky grin\nYoung Mula, skinnies and some Supras\nBelly of the beast 'til it puke us, motherfucker\nI'm a blunt-blowin', Polo-drawers-showin'\nI-don't-give-a-lovely-motherfuck-ass-nigga\nWith my money growing, no matter where you going\nYou don't need a bus pass for me to bust yo ass, nigga\n\nI've been gone too long\nTrue or false, right or wrong\nHello Weezy, welcome home\nIt's Young Mula, baby"}
{"text":"\nKane is in the building\nWho else is really trying to fuck with Hollywood Cole\nI'm with Marley G's bro\nFlying Holly Grove chicks to my Hollywood shows\nAnd I wanna tell you something that you probably should know\nThis that Slum Dog Millionaire Bollywood flow and uh\nMy real friends never hearing from me\nFake friends write the wrong answers on the mirror for me\nThat's why I pick and choose, I don't get shit confused\nI got a small circle, I'm not with different crews\nWe walk the same path, but got on different shoes\nLive in the same building, but we got different views\nI got a couple cars, I never get to use\nDon't like my women single, I like my chicks in two's\nAnd these days all the girls are down to roll\nI hit the strip club, and all them bitches find a pole\nPlus I been sipping, so this shit is moving kinda slow\nJust tell my girl to tell her friend that it's time to go\n\nNow tell me how you love it\nYou know you at the top when only heaven is right above it\nWe on, it's Young Money motherfucker\nIf you ain't running with it, run from it motherfucker\nAlright, now somebody show some money in this bitch\nAnd I got my B's with me like some honey in this bitch, you dig\nAnd I got my gun in my boo purse\nAnd I don't bust back, because I shoot first\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nMeet me on the fresh train\nYes I'm in the building, you just on the list of guest names\nAnd all of my riders do not give a fuck, X-Games\nGuns turn you boys into pussies, sex change\nAnd I smoke 'til I got chest pains\nAnd you niggas know I rep my gang like Jessie James\nWomen are possessive, and they wanna possess Wayne\nI been flyin' so long I fell asleep on the fucking plane\nSkinny pants and some Vans\nCall me Triple A, get my advance in advance, amen\nAs the world spin and dance in my hands\nLife is a beach, I'm just playing in the sand\nUh, wake up and smell the pussy\nYou niggas can't see me, but never overlook me\nI'm on a paper trail and ain't no telling where it took me\nYeah, and I ain't a killer but don't push me\n\nNow tell me how you love it\nYou know you at the top when only heaven is right above it\nWe on, it's Young Money motherfucker\nIf you ain't running with it, run from it motherfucker\nAlright, now somebody show some money in this bitch\nAnd I got my B's with me like some honey in this bitch, you dig\nI got my gun in my boo purse\nAnd I don't bust back, because I shoot first\nHow do you say what's never said?\nBeautiful black woman, I bet that bitch look better red\nLimping off tour, 'cause I made more off my second leg\nMotherfuckin' Birdman Junior, 11th Grade\nBall on automatic start\nI can hand it to Drake or do a quarterback draw\nWildcat offense, check the paw prints\nWe in the building, you niggas in apartments\nUh, now come on be my blood donor\nFlow so nice you ain't gotta put a rug on her\nDo it big and let the small fall under that\nDamn where you stumbled at? From where they make Gumbo at\nKane got the fucking beat jumping like a jumping jack\nAnd you know me, I get on this bitch and have a heart attack\nHip-Hop, I'm the heart of that\nNigga, nothing short of that\nPresident Carter, Young Money Democrat\n\nNow tell me how you love it\nYou know you at the top when only heaven is right above it\nWe on, it's Young Money motherfucker\nIf you ain't running with it, run from it motherfucker\nAlright, now somebody show some money in this bitch\nAnd I got my b's with me like some honey in this bitch, you dig\nI got my gun in my boo purse\nAnd I don't bust back, because I shoot first"}
{"text":"(Weezy, Weezy, Weezy, Weezy\nWeezy, Weezy, Weezy, Weezy)\nI see, thank you man, thank you\nY'all know his name\nAyo, Mack, let the beat drop\nLadies and gentlemen, C5, Wayne time\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nZone, zone, zone, zone, zone\nLet me see your shoulders work\nI mean, I don't know what y'all came here to do, but, uh\nIf you ain't got a lighter, what the fuck you smoking for?\nWe hot! (Haaa)\n\nWhat the fuck, though? Where the love go?\nFive, four, three, two, I let one go\nBow! Get the fuck though, I don't bluff, bro\nAimin' at your head like a buffalo\n\nYou a roughneck, I'm a cutthroat\nYou're a tough  guy, that's enough jokes\nThen the sun die, the night is young though\nThe diamonds still shine in the rough, ho\nWhat the fuck though? Where the love go?\nFive, four, three, two, where the ones go?\nIt's a shit show, put you front row\nTalkin' shit, bro? Let your tongue show\nMoney over bitches, and above hoes\nThat is still my favorite love quote\nPut the gun inside, what the fuck for?\nI sleep with the gun, and she don't snore\nWhat the fuck, yo? Where the love go?\nTrade the ski mask for the muzzle\nIt's a blood bath, where the suds go?\nIt's a Swizz beat, there the drums go\nIf she's iffy, there the drugs go\nIf she sip lean, double-cup toast\nI got a duffle full of hundos\nThere the love go, where's the uproar?\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nWhat the fuck though? Where the love go?\nFive, four, three, two, I let one go\nBow! Get the fuck though, I don't bluff, bro\nAimin' at your head like a buffalo\nWhat the fuck though? Where the love go?\nFive, four, three, two, I let one go\nBow! Get the fuck though, I don't bluff, bro\nAimin' at your head like a buffalo\n\nGet the fuck though, I don't bluff, bro\nI come out the scuffle without a scuff, woah\nPuff, puff, bro; I don't huff though\nYellow diamonds up close, catch a sunstroke\nAt your front door with a gun stowed\n\"Knock, knock. Who's there?\" is how it won't go\nThis the jungle, so have the utmost\nFor the nutzos, and we nuts, so\nWhat the fuck, bro? It's where I'm from, bro\nWe grow up fast, we roll up slow\nWe throw up gang signs, she throw up dope\nDreadlock hang down like you dun know\nPut the green in the bag like a lawnmower\nHair trigger pulled back like a cornrow\nExtra clip in the stash like a console\nListenin' to Bono, you listen to Donald\nWhat the fuck, bro? Where the love go?\nSwizzy, he the chef, I like my lunch gross\nJust look up, bro, there the Scuds go\nI see the shovel, but where did bruh go?\nHmm, to the unknown\nOnly way he comin' back is through his unborns\nIf you see what's in my bag, think I'm a drug lord\nIt's empty when I give it back, now where's the uproar?\nWhat the fuck though? Where the love go?\nFive, four, three, two, I let one go\nBow! Get the fuck though, I don't bluff, bro\nAimin' at your head like a buffalo\nWhat the fuck though? Where the love go?\nFive, four, three, two, I let one go\nBow! Get the fuck though, I don't bluff, bro\nAimin' at your head like a buffalo"}
{"text":"You can look me in my face\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\nSee the sh-rooms keep me up\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\nYou see money right there, yeah that's Tunechi right there (turn up)\nYeah that's Mack Maine right there, and we ain't got no worries\nYou see pussy right there redbone mangos right there\nSee them sh-roomies right there we ain't got no worries\n\nTunechi in this bitch, e'rybody should be worried\nThem pussy niggas be purring, bitches be diggin' me I feel buried\nAnd if she make this dick hard, she woke up a sleeping giant\nMan your bitch speak in tongues every time we speak in private\nHope your barber shop open cause we got hair triggers\nSmoke so much that Smokey the Bear\u2019ll have to bear with us\nAnd that Jeep with the doors off that means that bitch sleep\nAll these bitches think they\u2019re the shit, I\u2019ll send them up Schitt\u2019s creek\nYou see Tunechi right here, give me brain ideas\nIt's okay if you turn up just don't turn off my light years\nAll I know is I do it what I'm smoking I grew it\nB\u2019s up, Blood Gang; Piru it, and all rats gotta die even Stuart\nOn my private jet and my stewardess is your bitch nigga, bitch Nigga\nI know gold-diggers and ditch-diggers\nYou don't get dissed, you get disfigured\nShe say sorry I didn't shave so that pussy a little furry\nI put that pussy in my face: I ain't got no worries\nTunechi\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nYou can look me in my face\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\nSee the sh-rooms keep me up\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\nYou see money right there, yeah that's Tunechi right there (turn up)\nYeah that's Mack Maine right there, and we ain't got no worries\nYou see pussy right there, redbone mangos right there\nSee them sh-roomies right there, we ain't got no worries\n\nWe ain't got no worries\nShe bad as a hooker, so she ain't got no worries\nShe want me to eat her sugar, I say \"Why you in a hurry?\"\nShe say \"Why you asking questions?\" I say \"Bitch you tryna be funny!\"\nNow take your fucking clothes off, let me see that Donkey Kong\nI swing your ass back and forth, back and forth on my monkey bar\nThat camel toe, that camel toe, no worries no panty-hose\nThese niggas falling off like baggy clothes, I smoke more than a magic show\nI swear I saw my ho, I swear she was with my ho\nYou know I fuck them both, sore pussy and sore throat\nBitch, it's Tunechi and I'm out chea, no worries no worries\nI would talk about my dick, but man that shit'd be a long story\nYEAHHH, OHH SHIT, I'M UP, YEAHH, YOUNG MULA BABY!\nYou can look me in my face\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\nSee the sh-rooms keep me up\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\n(I ain't got no worries)\nYou see money right there, yeah that's Tunechi right there (turn up)\nYeah that's Mack Maine right there, and we ain't got no worries\nYou see pussy right there redbone mangos right there\nSee them sh-roomies right there"}
{"text":"I got ice in my veins, blood in my eyes\nHate in my heart, love in my mind\nI seen nights full of pain, days are the same\nYou keep the sunshine, save me the rain\nI search but never find, hurt but never cry\nI work and forever try, but I'm cursed, so never mind\nAnd it's worse, but better times seem further and beyond\nThe top gets higher the more that I climb\nThe spot gets smaller and I get bigger\nTryna get in where I fit in, no room for a nigga\nBut soon for a nigga it be on, ma'fucker\n\u2018Cause all this bullshit just made me strong, ma'fucker\n\nSo I pick the world up and I'ma drop it on your fuckin' head\nYeah\nBitch, I'ma pick the world up and I'ma drop it on your fuckin' head\nYeah\nAnd I could die now, rebirth, motherfucker\nHop up in my spaceship and leave Earth, motherfucker\nI'm gone, motherfucker, I'm gone\n\nUh\nI know what they don't wanna tell you\nJust hope you're heaven-sent, and you're hell-proof\nI, I walk up in the world and cut the lights off\nAnd confidence is a stain they can't wipe off\nHuh, my word is my pride\nBut wisdom is bleak, and that's a word from the wise\nServed to survive, murdered and bribed\nAnd when it got too heavy I put my burdens aside\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nSo I could pick the world up and I'ma drop it on your fuckin' head\nHaha, yeah\nBitch, I'ma pick the world up and I'ma drop it on your fuckin' head\nYeah\nAnd I could die now, rebirth, motherfucker\nHop up in my spaceship and leave Earth, motherfucker\nI'm gone, motherfucker, I'm gone\nI'm gone\n\nIt hurts, but I never show\nThis pain you'll never know\nIf only you could see just how lonely and how cold\nAnd frostbit I've become\nMy back's against the wall\nWhen push come to shove I just stand up and scream: \"Fuck 'em all!\"\n\nMan, it feels like these walls are closin' in, this roof is cavin' in\nOops, time to raise it then\nYour days are numbered like pages in\nMy book of rhymes; got 'em cookin', boy\nThis crooked mind of mine got 'em all shook\nAnd scared to look in my eyes\nI stole that fuckin' clock: I took the time\nAnd I came up from behind and pretty much snuck up and butt-fucked this game up\nBetter be careful when you bring my name up\nFuck this fame, that ain't what\nI came to claim, but the game ain't gonna be the same on the day that I leave it\nBut I swear, one way or another, I'ma make these fuckin' haters believe it\nI swear to God, won't spare the rod\nI'm a man of my word, so your fuckin' heads better nod\nOr I'ma fuck around in this bitch and roast everybody\nSleep on me, that pillow is where your head'll lie\nPermanently, bitch, it's beddy-bye\nThis world is my Easter egg, yeah, prepare to die!\nMy head is swole, my confidence is up, this stage is my pedestal\nI'm unstoppable, Incredible Hulk\nYou're trapped in my medicine ball\nI could run circles around you so fast your fuckin' head'll spin, dog\nI'll split your cabbage and your lettuce and olives, I'll fuckin'\u2014\nPick the world up and I'ma drop it on your fuckin' head\nYeah\nBitch, I'ma pick the world up and I'ma drop it on your fuckin' head\nYeah\nAnd I could die now, rebirth, motherfucker\nHop up in my spaceship and leave Earth, motherfucker\nI'm gone, motherfucker, I'm gone\nI'm gone"}
{"text":"Cut the music up\nA little louder, yeah\n\nYou had a lot of crooks try to steal your heart\nNever really had luck, couldn\u2019t never figure out\nHow to love, how to love\nYou had a lot of moments that didn\u2019t last forever\nNow you in a corner, tryna put it together\nHow to love, how to love\nFor a second you were here, now you over there\nIt's hard not to stare the way you're moving your body\nLike you never had a love, never had a love\n\nWhen you was just a youngin, your looks were so precious\nBut now you're grown up, so fly it's like a blessing\nBut you can\u2019t have a man look at you for five seconds\nWithout you being insecure\nYou never credit yourself, so when you got older\nIt seems like you came back ten times over\nNow you\u2019re sitting here in this damn corner\nLooking through all your thoughts and looking over your shoulder\n\nSee you had a lot of crooks trying to steal your heart\nNever really had luck, couldn\u2019t never figure out\nHow to love, how to love\nSee you had a lot of moments that didn\u2019t last forever\nNow you in a corner tryna put it together\nHow to love, how to love\nFor a second you were here, now you over there\nIt's hard not to stare the way you're moving your body\nLike you never had a love, had a love\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nYou had a lot of dreams that transform to visions\nThe fact that you saw the world affected all your decisions\nBut it wasn\u2019t your fault, wasn't in your intentions\nTo be the one here talking to me, be the one listening\nBut I admire your poppin' bottles and dippin'\nJust as much as you admire bartending and stripping\nBaby, so don\u2019t be mad, nobody else trippin'\nYou see a lot of crooks and them crooks still crook\n\nYou see, you had a lot of crooks try to steal your heart\nNever really had luck, couldn\u2019t never figure out\nHow to love, how to love\nSee, you had a lot of moments that didn\u2019t last forever\nNow you in this corner tryna put it together\nHow to love, how to love\n\nSee, I just want you to know that you deserve the best\nYou\u2019re beautiful, you\u2019re beautiful\nYeah, and I want you to know\nYou\u2019re far from the usual, far from the usual\n\nYou see, you had a lot of crooks try to steal your heart\nNever really had luck, couldn\u2019t never figure out\nHow to love, how to love\nSee, you had a lot of moments that didn\u2019t last forever\nNow you in this corner tryna put it together\nHow to love, how to love\nSee, you had a lot of crooks try to steal your heart\nNever really had luck, couldn\u2019t never figure out\nHow to love, how to love, yeah\nYou had a lot of moments that didn\u2019t last forever\nNow you in this corner, tryna put it together\nHow to love, how to love"}
{"text":"\"Just saw an alien saucer approaching from the sky\nRadio contact has been attempted but cannot be established Instructions are to prepare for an attack by an unknown enemy\"\n\n.44 bulldog, my motherfuckin' pet\nI point it at you and tell that motherfucker, \"Fetch\"\nI'm fuckin' her good, she got her legs on my neck\nI get pussy, mouth, and ass, call that bitch triple-threat\nWhen I was in jail, she let me call her collect\nBut if she get greedy, I'ma starve her to death\nTop down, it's upset\nBeen fucking the world, and nigga, I ain't cum yet\nYou fuck with me wrong, I knock your head off your neck\nThe flight too long, I got a bed on the jet\nThe guns are drawn and I ain't talking 'bout a sketch\nI pay these niggas with a reality check\nPrepared for the worst but still praying for the best\nThis game is a bitch, I got my hand up her dress\nThe money don't sleep, so Weezy can't rest\nAnd AK-47 is my fucking address, huh\n\nI'm not a star, somebody lied\nI got a chopper in the car\nI got a chopper in the car\nI got a chopper in the car\nYeah, load up the choppers like it's December 31st\nRoll up and cock it and hit them niggas where it hurts\nIf I die today, remember me like John Lennon\nBuried in Louis, I'm talking all brown linen, huh\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nBig black nigga in a icy watch\nShoes on the coupe, bitch, I got a Nike shop\nCount the profits, you could bring 'em in a Nike box\nGrinding in my Jordans, kick 'em off, they might be hot, swish\nI'm swimming in a yellow bitch (Boss)\nIn the red 911 looking devilish (Haha)\nRed beam make a bitch nigga sit down\nThought it were bullet proof 'til he got hit the fifth time\nDrop palmolive in a nigga dope\nMake it come back even harder than before (Yeah)\nBaby, I'm the only one that paid your car notes\nWell connected, got killers off in Chicago\n\nI'm not a star, somebody lied\nI got a chopper in the car\nI got a chopper in the car\nI got a chopper in the car\nYeah, oad up the choppers like it's December 31st\nRoll up and cock it and hit them niggas where it hurts\nIf I die today, remember me like John Lennon\nBuried in Louis, I'm talking all brown linen, huh\n\nTalk stupid, get ya head popped\nI got that Esther, bitch, I'm Redd Foxx\nBig B's, Red Sox\nI get money to kill time, dead clocks\nYou fucking with a nigga who won't give a fuck\nEmpty the clip then roll the window up\nPussy nigga sweet, them niggas Cinnabon\nI'm in a red bitch, she said she finna cum\nThat banana clip, let Chiquita speak\nDark shades, Eazy E\nFive letters, YMCMB\nBitch ass nigga, pussy ass nigga\nI see ya looking, with ya looking ass nigga\nYou know the rules, kill 'em all and keep moving\nIf I died today, it'd be a holiday, huh\nI'm not a star, somebody lied\nI got a chopper in the car, so don't make it come alive (Yeah)\nRip your ass apart, then I pull myself together\nYMCMB, double M, we rich forever\nThe bigger the bullet, the more that bitch go \"Bang\"\nRed on the wall, Basquiat when I paint (Yeah)\nRed Lamborghini 'til I gave it to my bitch\nMy first home invasion, papi gave me forty bricks\nSon of a bitch, then I made a great escape (Yeah)\nAin't it funny, mama only son be bakin' cakes\nPull up in the sleigh, hop out like I'm Santa Claus\nNiggas gather 'round, got gifts for each and all of y\u2019all\nTake it home and let it bubble, that's the double up (Yeah)\nIf you get in trouble, that just mean you fuckin' up (NIgga)\nIt's a cold world, I need a bird to cuddle up (Yeah)\nI call the plays, motherfucker, huddle up\n\nI'm not a star, somebody lied\nI got a chopper in the car\nYeah"}
{"text":"\nYo, yo Drew and Inf\nThis-this, this right here is crazy\nYo I, I feel big, you know what I mean?\nLike, not, not big in the sense of, weight\nYou know what I mean? Like gainin' weight or nothin' like that\nLike colossal\nLike, you know what I mean, like (sighs)\nI heard you were lookin' for me\n\nHey, Mr. Carter (Hello)\nTell me, where have you been? (Haha, you know, hehe)\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching\nThey've been wondering why (I know, haha)\nHey, Mr. Carter (Hey, hello)\nTell me, where have you been? (Shit, you know)\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching\nThey've been wondering why (Hahahah)\n\nYeah, to you forever, from me to you\nI heard somebody say \"Church!\" I'ma need a suit\nI'ma need a coupe, I won't need a roof\nFlyer than Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice\nI got the flow, I'm tryin' to see the roof\nDidn't wear a bulletproof so I got shot and you can see the proof\nBlind eyes could look at me and see the truth\nWonder if Stevie do?\nBut I'ma leave it to God, not Beaver, neither you\nCause I'ma murder Y, kill O, and even U\nMan, I got summer hatin' on me cause I'm hotter than the sun\nGot spring hatin' on me 'cause I ain't never sprung\nWinter hatin' on me 'cause I'm colder than y'all\nAnd I will never, I will never, I will never fall\nI'm being hated by the seasons\nSo fuck y'all who hatin' for no reason\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nHey, Mr. Carter (I am him!)\nTell me, where have you been?\nAround the world and I'm back again!\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching\nWho's been askin' about me?\nThey've been wondering why (In case you wonderin', hah!)\nHey, Mr. Carter (I am him!)\nTell me, where have you been?\nAround the world now I'm back again!\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching\nWho's been askin' about me?\nThey've been wondering why (In case you wonderin', hah!)\n\nYeah, I been in and out the bank, bitch\nWhile y'all asshole niggas been on the same shit\nI flush and watch 'em go down the drain quick\nTwo words you never hear: \"Wayne quit!?\"\nCause Wayne win, and they lose\nI call 'em April babies, cause they fools\nAnd when they snooze, we up!\nFeet up, like a paraplegia\nOr paraplegic? I parallel park\nIn that red-and-yellow thing; old school Atlanta Hawk\nLike I'm from College Park, but I'm from Hollygrove\nNow all my Bloods scream \"Soo-woo\" and \"Da-da-doe\"\nI know my role and I play it well\nAnd I weigh it well, on my Libra scale\nI suck a pussy, fuck a pussy, leave it there\nLong hair, don't even care\nHey, Mr. Carter (Young! I am him)\nTell me, where have you been?\nAround the world now I'm back again\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching\nWho's been askin' about me?\nThey've been wondering why (In case you wonderin')\nHey, Mr. Carter (I am him)\nTell me, where have you been?\nAround the world now I'm back again\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching\nWho's been askin' about me?\nThey've been wondering why (In case you wonderin', chyeah)\n\nI'm right here in my chair with my crown and my dear\nQueen B, as I share, mic time with my heir\nYoung Carter, go farther, go further, go harder\nIs that not why we came? And if not, then why bother?\nShow no mercy in Murcielagos\nI'm far from bein' the bastard that Marcy had fathered\nNow my name's been mentioned with the martyrs\nThe Biggies and the Pacs and the Marleys and the Marcuses\nGarvey; got me a molotov-cocktail flow\nEven if you box well, can't stop the blows\nKaboom! The Roc Boy in the room\nThe dope boy I just came off the spoon\nAlso, I'm so fly I'm on auto-\nPilot, while guys just stare at my wardrobe\nI see Euros, that's right: plural\nI took so much change from this rap game, it's your go\n(Hey Mr. Carter) Young!\nIt's my go, yeah\u2026 And I'ma go so opposite of soft\nOff the richter, Hector, Camacho Man, Randy Savage\nFar from average, above status\u2013quo, flow so pro\nI know, I ride slow, and when I pass\nThey say, \"What up, killa?\" Man, stop bringin' up my past\nAnd next time you mention Pac, Biggie, or Jay-Z\nDon't forget Weezy, Baby!\n\nHey, Mr. Carter (Amen)\nTell me, where have you been? (Yeah)\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching\nThey've been wondering why (Haha)\nHey, Mr. Carter (Amen)\nTell me, where have you been? (Hova!)\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching (Weezy)\nThey've been wondering why (Baby!)\nHey, Mr. Carter (Hahaha)\nTell me, where have you been? (I been hustlin')\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching (Hustlin' hard)\nThey've been wondering why (Chyeah!)\nHey, Mr. Carter\nTell me, where have you been?\nCause they've been asking, they've been searching\nThey've been wondering why\nAnd I swear to everything, when I leave this Earth\nIt's gonna be on both feet, never knees in the dirt\nAnd you can try me, fucker, but when I squeeze, it hurt\nFine, we'll lose two lives; yours and mine\nGive me any amount of time, don't let Ms. Carter grieve\nAt the funeral parlor, drippin' tears down my sleeve\nGive me any amount of time, don't let Ms. Carter grieve"}
{"text":"\nOww! Hahahaha\nUh-huh\nNo homo (Young Mula, baby)\nI said, \"He's so sweet, make her wanna lick the wrapper\"\n(Go! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!)\nSo I let her lick the rapper (Hahaha!)\n\nShe-She-She licked me like a lollipop (Yeah)\nShe\u2014 She licked me like a lollipop, l-lollipop (Yeah)\nSh-Sh-She licked me like a lollipop (Yeah)\nShe\u2014 She licked me like a lollipop, lollipop\nShawty want a thug (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBottles in the club (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nShawty wanna hump (Yeah)\nYou know I like to touch (Yeah)\nYour lovely lady lumps, lumps, lumps (She lick me like a lollipop)\nShawty wanna thug, thug, thug (I like that)\nBottles in the club, club, club (I like that, hahaha)\nShawty wanna hump\nYou know I like to touch\nYour lovely lady lumps, lumps, lumps (C'mon, yeah!)\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nOkay, lil' mama had a swag like mine (Yeah)\nShe even wear her hair down her back like mine (Yeah)\nI make her feel right when it's wrong, like lying (Yeah)\nMan, she ain't never had a love like mine (Yeah)\nBut man, I ain't never seen a ass like hers (Go!)\nThat pussy in my mouth, had me lost for words (Go!)\nSo I told her back it up like, \"urp\u2014 urp\u2014\" (Yeah)\nAnd I made that ass jump like, \"jermp\u2014 jermp\u2014\" (Hahaha! Yeah!)\nAnd that's when she...\n\nShe-She-She lick me like a lollipop (Oh yeah, I like that)\nShe\u2014 She lick me like a lollipop (Oh yeah, I like that)\nShe-She-She lick me like a lollipop (Yeah, I like that)\nShe\u2014 She lick me like a lollipop (Lil' mama!)\nShawty want a thug (Shawty want a thug, yeah!)\nBottles in the club\nShawty wanna hump\nYou know I like to touch (Yeah)\nYour lovely lady lumps (Yeah, shawty wanna)\nShawty want a thug (I like that)\nBottles in the club (Hey, I like that)\nShawty wanna hump (I like that)\nYou know I like to touch (I like that! Haha!)\nYour lovely lady lumps (Yeah)\nOkay (Yeah), after you back it up, don't stop (Drop it!)\nDrop it, shawty (Yeah) drop it like it's hot\nOoh, drop\u2014 dr-dr-dr\u2014 drop it like it's hot (Yeah)\nDo-Do-Do\u2014 Do it, shawty, don't stop (Yeah)\nShawty say the nigga that she with ain't shit (Yeah)\nShawty say the nigga that she with ain't this (Yeah)\nShawty say the nigga that she with can't hit (Yeah)\nBut, shawty, I'ma hit it, hit it, like I can't miss\nAnd he can't do this (Ugh), and he don't do that (Ugh)\nShawty need a refund (Yeah), need to bring that nigga back (Ugh)\nJust like a refund (Ugh), I make her bring that ass back (Ugh, ugh)\nAnd she bring that ass back, because I like that (Ugh, ugh)\n\nShawty want a thug (Yeah, yeah I like that)\nBottles in the club (Yeah, I like that)\nShawty wanna hump (Yeah, I like that)\nYou know I like to touch (Yeah)\nYour lovely lady lumps (Yeah)\n\nShawty wanna lick, lick, lick, lick, lick me like a lollipop\nI said, shawty wanna lick, lick, lick, lick, lick me like a lollipop\nShawty wanna lick me... Like a lollipop\n(So I let her lick the rapper) She\u2014 She lick me like a lollipop\nShawty want a thug (Shawty want a thug)\nBottles in the club (Bottles in the club)\nShawty wan' hump (Shawty wan' hump)\nYou know I like to touch\nYour lovely lady lumps (Hahaha)\nStat!\n\nCall me, so I can make it juicy for you (Go!)\nCall\u2014 Ca-Call me, s\u2014 so I can get it juicy for you (Go!)\nCall\u2014 Ca-Call me, so I can make it juicy for you (Go!)\nCall\u2014 Call me, s-s-so I can get it juicy for you\nCall\u2014 Call me, so I can make it juicy for you (I said, hmm, mmm)\nCall\u2014 Ca-Call me, s-so I can get it juicy for you (Hmm, mmm)\nCall me, so\u2014 so I can make it juicy for you (Mmm, mmm)\nCall\u2014 Call me, so-so-so I can get it juicy for you (Mm-hm)\n\nShawty want a thug, thug, thug (I like that)\nBottles in the club, club, club (Yeah, I like that)\nShawty wanna hump\nYou know I like to touch\nYour lovely lady lumps\nI say, shawty want a thug\nBottles in the club\nShawty wanna hump\nYou know I like to touch (Yeah)\nYour lovely lady lumps, lumps, lumps\n\nI get her on top (Yeah), she drop it like it's hot (Yeah)\nAnd when I'm at the bottom, she Hillary Rodham (Ha)\nThe middle of the bed (Yeah), giving, gettin' head (Yuh)\nGivin', gettin' head (Huh), givin', gettin' head (Haha)\nI said hmm, mmm (I like that)\nSaid hmm, mmm, mmm (Yeah, I like that)\nI said hmm, mmm, mmm (Yeah, I like that)\nMm-hm\n\nSay, call me, so I can come and do it for you\nCall me, so I can come and prove it for you\nCall me, so I can make it juicy for you\nCall me, so I can get it juicy for you\n\nShawty wanna lick, lick, lick, lick, lick me like a lollipop (Haha!)\nShe\u2014 She lick me like a lollipop, l-lollipop\nI said he's so sweet, make her wanna lick the wrapper\nShe-She-She lick me like a lollipop\n(What you do?) So I let her lick the rapper\nShe\u2014 She lick me like a lollipop"}
{"text":"\"If it wasn't for Wayne, it wouldn't be\"\n\"You tatted your face\u2014\"\nBugatti, new boo\n\"You screamed, 'Suu whoop'\u2014\"\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\"You bought a Bugatti\u2014\", so you can flex\n\"And most of the bad bitches your ex\"\nTattoos, suu whoop, Bugatti, new boo, new subject, new paper, new class, new school\nNew buddies, new haters, new ass, new boobs, much later, too soon, too bad, too cool\nToo hot, too lit, too high to move, two eyes to view but too blind to bloom\nWho lied to you? Two middle fingers that's up high to whom it may consume\nKaboom, goddamn, who knew that I am the guru with voodoo that sued you to high hell\nWith shooters that shoot through the iron, man, and see through the con man and now he a dyin' man\nI turned a goddamn into a God's Plan go over the diagram and get to the job, man\nWatch for the spy cam, sit back and watch, and do not watch your watch hand, give me some time, man\nI am the bomb, man, I am gon' swim 'til I come out on dry land or on the fryin' pan\nNo, we did not land on Plymouth Rock, but it landed on our land, now I'm just buyin' land\nBack to the block where they got more rock fans than a fuckin' rock band under a rock, man\nWe need Barack, man, I do what I can to keep it solid as a-- you know what I'm sayin'\nWith some rock playin'\n\n\"You tatted your face and changed the culture\" (You changed)\n\"You screamed, 'Suu whoop,' and them gangsters loved you\" (Yeah, yeah)\n\"You bought a Bugatti so you could flex\" (So you can flex)\n\"And most of the bad bitches your ex\"\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI started this shit, you just part of this shit, I'm the heart of this shit, and the heart doesn't skip\nTake the heart of yo' bitch, 'cause like Bart, you a simp, and your water don't drip so your garden ain't shit\nYou just countin' the money, I'm drownin' in money, like, \"Where the fuck is the lifeguard in this bitch?\"\nI go Mars in this bitch, watch me orbit and shit, for the art of this shit, Andy Warhol and shit\nGo retarded as shit, you go sweet, tangy, I go tart on this shit, I'ma barf on this shit\nI'm a martian and shit, you an orphan, lil' bitch, if I taught you some shit, that's like Harvard, lil' bitch\nYou ain't talkin' 'bout shit but you softer than shit, walk it like you talk it, now you walkin' in shit\nI go Marvel movie on some marvelous shit, in the spotlight too long, should be darker than this\nThis is Tha Carter, lil' bitch\n\n\"You tatted your face and changed the culture\" (You changed)\n\"You screamed, 'Suu whoop,' and them gangsters loved you\" (Yeah, yeah)\n\"You bought a Bugatti so you could flex\" (So you can flex)\n\"And most of the bad bitches your ex\"\n\nI started this shit, they borrowed this shit, I thought of this shit, they thought it was it\nI'm doggin' this shit, they bark and they sit, put a fork in that shit, which drawer to look in?\nI brought in this shit, the starters get benched, the orders get sent, then targets get hit\nBillion dollar smile, I sell myself short if I grin, I'm bargainin' then\nApartments and shit, I could park in this shit in the foreign car that I could talk to and shit\nWith a cultural bitch I can talk to and shit 'bout the culture and shit, how I altered this shit\n\nTattoos, suu whoop, Bugatti, new boo, tattoos, suu whoop, Bugatti, new boo (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nTattoos, suu whoop, Bugatti, new boo\nAll of that shit, just Tha Carter, lil' bitch\nYou changed, suu whoop (You tatted your face)\nBugatti, new boo (\"You screamed, 'Suu whoop'\u2014\")\nTattoos, suu whoop, Bugatti, new boo\nTattoos, suu whoop, Bugatti, new boo\nTunechi\n(\"If it wasn't for Wayne, it wouldn't be\")\nThey might think they've got a pretty good jump shot, or a pretty good flow\nBut our kids can't all aspire to be LeBron or Lil Wayne"}
{"text":"(Fly) Let it fly\nLet it fly like the birds in the sky\nHotter than the weather in July\nI done did so much I can't decide\nWord, word to my guys\nShe just get so wet, I slip and slide\nHad to get it back to give 'em five\nI, I, I...\n\nYeah, it's Mr. Michael Myers, man (Michael Myers)\nWord to Moneybagg, I keep it comin' in (Woo, woo)\nBy the way we work, you think I had a twin (Twin)\nI'm tryna run the game, it ain't no subbin' in (Naw)\nYou can't phase me, slidin' from a dangerous life (It's lit)\nAlways down to ball, I'm tryna drain these nights\nSee the smoke clouds through the entertainment lights\nThe way it go down we takin' fours and keepin' doors tight, yeah (Yeah, yeah)\nWe at the top, end of discussion (Discussion)\nThey mixin' alcohol and that 'tussin (Ooh)\nThe demon in their eyes and they clutchin' (Scared)\nI feed 'em Adderall and they bussin', yeah (Pew-pew-pew-pew-pew)\nI kept the towel, not throwin' in, I'm ridin' 'round in my ends\nI got a driver for the Bent' to drive me 'round when I'm bent\nI keep some pussy just to lick to help me out when I vent\nShe wanna hit that shit again, nah (Brr-brr)\n(Brr-brr) That's the phone call, when my blood ring\nIt's Tha Carter V, let the thugs sing (Thugs)\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nLet it fly (Brr, fly)\nLet it fly like the birds in the sky (Brr-brr)\nHotter than the weather in July (Brr-brr)\nI done did so much I can't decide (It's lit)\nWord, word to my guys (Yeah)\nShe just get so wet, I slip and slide (Splash)\nHad to get it back to give 'em five\nI, I, I...\n\nIt's alive, it's alive, I'm revived\nIt's C5, been arrived, kiss the sky, did the time\nPlease advise, it is advised to be advised, and we advise\nYou not fuck with me and mine, and keep in mind that we don't mind\nLosin' our minds, free your mind, read your mind, read your mind\nBody take a week to find, the cops gon' be like, \"Never mind\"\nWhat's on your mind? Put the pistol to your mind and blow your mind\nControl your mind, mind freak, no sober mind, I'm so behind\nBut front line, you crossed the line, and you better know your lines\nAnd if you gettin' out of line, I hang you with a clothin' line\nWring you like an open line, keep your stanky ho in line\nThem hoes be lyin', it's a thin line, and I know you know the line\nSecond line, second line, Tunechi got effective lines\nRough edges like a box of Checkers fries, that's a line\nCatch the line, American flag, less stars, extra lines\nStretch the line, skip the line, 'til you no more next in line\nYeah, Tunechi-Tune a lunatic, my goonie-goons the gooniest\nRun inside your room and kill you and who you roomin' with\nThe Uzi with the booty clip, more than one, I'm too equipped\nTalkin' 'bout some fake niggas, based on true events\nTryin' not to get pinched, smokin' on a stupid stench\nLookin' in the mirror tryin' to figure where my pupils went\nFlashy with a boujee bitch, Travy, that's my hooligan (It's lit)\nTake the T off Tunechi and look at it as the crucifix, bitch\nC5, best rapper alive\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nLet it fly"}
{"text":"Uh, my mind's filled with minefields\nThe ashes fall, the wine spills\nThe world stops, drops and rolls\nIt's Judgement Day or a fire drill\nYeah, I pour out my heart, have a drink\nThey say the drunk never lie, they ain't never lyin', yeah\nMy country 'tis of thee\nSweet land of kill 'em all and let 'em die\n\nGod bless Amerika\nThis ole' godless Amerika\nI heard tomorrow ain't promised today\nThe end of time is like a hour away, damn\n\nMilitary-minded, lost and can't find it\nThe stars on the flag are never shinin'\nUh, I saw a butterfly in Hell today\nWill I die or go to jail today?\n'Cause I live by the sword and die by the sword\nHeard police was lookin' for me, I'ma hide by a broad\nShootin' stars in my pocket; bitch, sit on my rocket\nI'm wired out the socket, but still shockin'\nEverybody wanna tell me what I need\nYou can play a role in my life but not the lead\nIf there's food for thought then I'm guilty of greed\nMama said, \"Take what you want\" \u2013 I took heed, yeah\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nNow let it breathe, yeah\n\nBack to life, back to reality\nBeen eatin'my girl and she's so sweet, got cavities\nGranted, we do it for vanity not humanity\nBut what's appealin' to me is under banana trees\nLove, I go so hard, I tried to pay homage, but I was overcharged\nAin't that a bitch? I'm just a nut tryna bust a nut, in a nut shell\nUsed to say, \"Fuck the police,\" now I say, \"Fuck jail\"\nSame shit, different air freshener\nI don't play, boy, I ain't Hugh Hefner\nTryna be a step ahead, but a few feet behind\nTwo fingers to my head, pop! Peace of mind\nI be in the cloud, cloud number nine\nAnd I just fucked the clock and let it come with time\nIt's a cold world, I put on a mink\nThere's a chain of commands, I'm the missin' link\n\nGod bless Amerika\nThis ole' godless Amerika\nI heard tomorrow ain't promised today\nAnd I'm smokin'on them flowers, catch the bouquet\nHere, we live by the sword and die by the sword\nHeard police was lookin' for me, I'ma hide by a broad\nShootin' stars in my pocket; bitch, sit on my rocket\nI'm wired out the socket, but still shockin'\nEverybody wanna tell me what I need\nYou can play a role in my life but not the lead\nI saw a butterfly in Hell today\nWill I die or go to jail today?"}
{"text":"Pump that bass\n\nMan, fuck y'all with a sick dick, semi automatic, no click click\nWe don't feel you, like an elephant getting fucked with a tick dick\nLittle nigga with a thick bitch, and before I fuck this bitch\nI gotta put that patch over my third eye: Slick Rick\nTrukfit, T-shirt, talk second, skeet first\nBoy, your girl a jump off, I hope she land feet first\nShe give me brain: research, and I prefer reefer\nBut if you want some coke, that's cool, 'cause my homies still\n\n(Pump that bass) Yeah, my homies still\n(Pump that bass) Haha, my homies still\n(Pump that bass) Yeah, my homies still\nDon\u2019t make my goons go stupid\nGo stupid, go stupid, yeah (boy)\nDon\u2019t make my goons go stupid\nGo stupid, (go dumb) go stupid, yeah\n(Whoa, boy)\n\nOkay, my girls and cars both skrt off (skrt)\nI like a pussy so wet that I can surf off (whoa)\nIn a hotspot 'cause a nigga never chillin' (chillin')\nI do it for my niggas, I just do it to these bitches\nBoy, I overgrind (whoa), overshine (whoa)\nAin't another nigga over Sean (boy, boy)\nI'm getting paid, it's Oprah time (boy, boy)\nI\u2019m rollin' pine, I\u2019m so divine\nI\u2019m west side, west side, dark glasses on like I'm goin' blind\nLooking like Eazy E, it\u2019s just me and Lil Weezy Wee\nGet off my dick!\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\n(Pump that bass) Yeah, my homies still (whoa)\n(Pump that bass) Haha, my homies still (boy, boy, boy)\n(Pump that bass) Yeah, my homies still (whoah, oh God)\nDon\u2019t make my goons go stupid\nGo stupid, go stupid (boy, boy), yeah\nDon\u2019t make my goons go stupid\nGo stupid (go dumb), go stupid, yeah\n(Whoa, whoa, oh God)\n\nLook, I\u2019m east side, them haters 90 going west (boy, boy, boy)\nMy niggas pumping so much bass, motherfuckers going deaf (huh?)\nWeezy F, I'm east side, them haters 90 going west\nMy niggas pumping so much bass (pump that bass)\nTunechi, Tunechi, Tunechi, I don\u2019t love them hoes\nGot so much coke, you gon' need another nose\nMan, I just play my hand, but I am not the dealer\nYou see I got them tear drops, I cry your ass a river\nI got that Trukfit T-shirt, listening to \"Rebirth\"\nI skate until my feet hurt, Hot Boy, free Turk\nPussy for dessert, put your ass beneath Earth\nAnd I don\u2019t sell drugs, but if you need work\nMy homies still\n\n(Pump that bass) Yeah, my homies still\nHaha, my homies still\nYeah, my homies still\nWhoa, okay\nBoy, this here\u2019s what I do do (do do)\nGot your sister dancing, not the kind that's in a tutu (no)\nGot me in control, no strings attached, that's that voodoo (go)\nShe said can\u2019t nobody do it better, I tell her, \"True, true,\" yeah, bitch, true, true\nMy, my, my bro-bro say these bitches ain't shit (ain't shit)\nI got the girl you came with and the girl she came with\nShe leaking and drippin\u2019, whoa, there I might just come slip in (whoa, whoa, whoa)\nAnd your misses gonna go missin\u2019 if she addicted to what my dick did\nBoy, I get it! (I get it)\nLil bitch!\n\nMy homies still\nHaha, my homies still (Finally Famous in this)\nYeah my homies still (G.O.O.D.)\nLittle nigga make my goons go stupid\nGo stupid (go stupid), go stupid (go stupid) (boy, boy)\nDon\u2019t make my goons go stupid\nGo stupid, go stupid, yeah (go dumb)\n\nLook, I\u2019m eastside them haters 90 going West (whoa)\nMy niggas pumping so much bass, motherfuckers going deaf\nWeezy F, I'm eastside my nigga Sean from the West\nAnd niggas pumping so much bass (pump that bass)\nYeah, uh-huh\nYoung Mula\nTruk yo girl\n(Pump that bass)"}
{"text":"\nMan, fuck these niggas\nI'ma spare everything but these niggas\nI flip the gun and gun-butt these niggas\nTake the knife off the AK and cut these niggas (Kane is in the buildin', nigga)\nYeah, and fuck these bitches\nI swear, I care about everything but these bitches\nI don't care, I \"so what\" these bitches\nAnd I put Young Mula, baby, way above these bitches\nIf it ain't broke, don't break it\nAnd if he ain't shook, I'm gon' shake him\nHope I don\u2019t look weak, 'cause when a wolf cry wolf\nYou still see that wolf teeth, mothafucka\nFuturistic handgun\nIf you act foul, you get two shots and one, haha\nI'm at your face like Lanc\u00f4me, haha\nYou niggas softer than Roseanne's son, heh\nYou cannot reach me on my Samsung\nI'm busy fuckin' the world and givin' the universe my damn tongue\nCrazy mothafucka, I am one\nBut the crazy thing is, I began one\nAll-white bricks\nI\u2019m straight like it\u2019s jumping back to 36, nigga\nBig house, long hallways\nGot 10 bathrooms, I could shit all day, nigga\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nAnd we don't want no problems\nOkay, you\u2019re a goon, what's a goon to a goblin?\nYeah, and Kane on the beat\nI fuck around and leave a nigga's brains on the street, ooh\nNow, pop that pussy\nI bring her to my bedroom and pop that pussy\nUh-huh, and we be steady mobbin'\nWhoa, Kemosabe, big ballin' is my hobby\n\nWhat the fuck is up? (Up) It\u2019s Gucci Mane the G (S'Gucci)\nAsk Tity Boi, no pity, boy; this scar city, the city boy (What?)\nSo Icy; so, no Nike, boy, just Gucci, Louis, Prada, 'scuse me ('Scuse me)\n\"Gucci Mane keep shittin' on me, why that boy keep buying jewelry?\" (Kane is in the buildin', nigga)\nEast Atlanta cockin' hammers, bandannas on car antennas (Ugh)\nNo, we do not talk to strangers, just cut off these niggas' fingers (Huh)\nGucci's armed and dangerous, cocaine, codeine and angel dust\nThis AK-47 will hit ya anywhere from the ankle up (Ankle)\nGun same size as Nia Long, clip long as a Pringles can (Damn)\n4-5 Desert Eagle on me, you'll think I'm a Eagles fan (Huh)\nToni Braxton sniper rifle, make you never breathe again (Hah)\nFuck that nigga, kill that nigga, bring him back, kill him again (Gucci)\n\nYeah, the-the-the money is the motive\nFuck with the money, it get ugly as Coyote\n\"Okay, I\u2019m reloaded,\" better pull it if you tote it\nI buy a pound, break it down, and put it in a stogie\nSwagger so bright, I don\u2019t even need light\nI\u2019m with a model broad, she don\u2019t even eat rice, ha\nBut, would you believe it? She eat dykes\nAnd she asked me for a picture, so I gave her three strikes, yeah\nI-I\u2019m the man around this mothafucka\nI\u2019m so hot, you probably catch a tan around this mothafucka\nThis rap game, I got my hand around this mothafucka\nYeah, I said \"game,\" but I ain\u2019t playin' around this mothafucka\nYeah! I\u2019m the best to ever do it, bitch, haha\nAnd you\u2019re the best at never doin' shit\nIf you the shit, then I'm sewerage\nTry me and I'll have your people reading eulogies, haha\nI swear, you can't fuck with me\nBut I can fuck your girl, and make her nut for me, then slut for me\nThen kill for me, then steal for me, and of course, it'll be your cash\nThen I'll murder that bitch and send her body back to your ass\nAnd we don't want no problems\nOkay, you're a goon, what's a goon to a goblin?\nYeah, and Kane on the beat\nI fuck around and leave a nigga's brains on the street, ooh\nNow, pop that pussy\nI bring her to my bedroom and pop that pussy\nUh-huh, and we be steady mobbin'\nWhoa, Kemosabe, big ballin' is my hobby\n\nUgh, man, suck my clip\nSwallow my bullets, and don\u2019t you spit, ughhhh\nI am the hip-hop socialist\nLife is a gamble and I\u2019m all about my poker chips\nDo you want a dose of this? I will make the most of this\n\"F\" is for ferocious, murder your associates\nThe top is so appropriate, this is just where I belong\nKeep a hard dick for your girlfriend to wobble on, Weez'\n\nAnd we don't want no problems\nOkay, you're a goon, what's a goon to a goblin?\nYeah, and Kane on the beat\nI fuck around and leave a nigga's brains on the street, ooh\nNow, pop that pussy\nI bring her to my bedroom and pop that pussy\nUh-huh, and we be steady mobbin'\nWhoa, Kemosabe, big ballin' is my hobby\n(Kane is in the buildin', nigga)\nAnd we don\u2019t want no problems\nOkay, you're a goon, what's a goon to a goblin?\nYeah, and Kane on the beat\nI fuck around and leave a nigga's brains on the street, ooh\nNow, pop that pussy\nI bring her to my bedroom and pop that pussy\nUh-huh, and we be steady mobbin'\nWhoa, Kemosabe, big ballin' is my hobby"}
{"text":"You cannot break down what can't be broken\nOut of all the rankless, I was chosen\nWhen all of the lights, they get low\nAnd all of the curtains, they close\nYou cannot break down what can't be broken\n\nThey can do all they can do but they can't break unbreakable\nThey scared to face the truth because they hate the view\nThey taste the juice, I hope it make 'em puke, I'm breakin' loose\nShould I throw up the deuce or should I wave the deuce?\nIn 1982, my momma taped me to a space shuttle\nSay, now I'm raising you and ain't no baby food\nUnless you go and take the neighbors' food\nAnd be afraid of who, I made the loot\nWhen money went from army green to navy blue\nI said salute, bulletproof, I gave 'em proof\nSometimes feel like my head a screw, twisted like tornadoes too\nMan, I'ma need some Krazy Glue\nHer walls is what I'm breaking through\nHer nails, she gone break a few\nYou can never break me down, and I can't hit the brakes for you\n(errr!)\n\nYou cannot break down what can't be broken\nOut of all the rankless, I was chosen (Yeah)\nWhen all of the lights, they get low (Low)\nAnd all of the curtains, they close (They close)\nYou cannot break down (You can't) what can't be broken (Uh)\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nG-code, G-code, we can't break the G-code\nWe bros (Can't be broken)\nYeah, we bros, we bros, we can't break for these hoes\nG-code (Can't be broken)\n\nI ain't finna break or fix the brakes, you emulate\nI'm laughing in your face, now fix your face, I can't disintegrate\n'Cause I facilitate a mil' a day for like a million days\nAt least the bills are paid, the children safe, want to get away?\nNo, I'm here to stay, I'm really great, but don't discriminate\n'Cause I done seen a mirror break behind a pretty face\nYou stickin' out your chest, your titties fake\nDon't make me pick your fate\nI'm pickin' out a mate, she get replaced\nThe heart was built to break\nI'm smoking icky, watching Ricki Lake\nI got a lawyer that turn any case into a pillow case\nMy killers straight, let's do some Q&A\nYou saw the news today, got news to break and rules to break\nIt hurt to say, they want to get Lil Tune to break\nIt's worth the wait, commercial break\n\nYou cannot break down what can't be broken (G-code)\nOut of all the rankless, I was chosen\nWhen all of the lights, they get low\nAnd all of the curtains, they close\nYou cannot break down what can't be broken (Uh)\nG-code, G-code, we can't break the G-code\nWe bros (Can't be broken)\nYeah, we bros, we bros, we can't break for these hoes\nG-code (Can't be broken)"}
{"text":"\n(Glory)\n\nWoo, this that shit they didn't want me on\nI'm 'bout to act a badonkadonk, shamone, shamone\nDon't need sugar, I need cream, I'm dark and strong\nThe garbage man puttin' on cologne, aroma wrong\nI'm on, I'm on, this that shit they didn't want\nI act a ass and shit a skunk, I will, I won't\nBlack your eye like will.i.am, you Willy Wonka\nThat's me in the Lamb', I'm disappearin' like Jimmy Hoffa\nAK-47 my business partner, business is swell\nFrench kiss a bitch, she don't speak French, can't kiss and tell\nI push his ass in a wishin' well, then wish him well\nSippin' syrup like ginger ale, but I'm the quickest snail\nFrom here to Hell, I hear them hail, I give them hell\nI'm spittin' hail, I'm Clinton, well, I did inhale\nThese niggas frail, they Chip and Dale, they little gals\nWatch me act a donkey, then pin a tail, spit out your nails\n\nUh, glory, hallelujah\nHoly shit, I'm the holy shit, I'm God's manure\nI know how to hack a jeweler ward and not computers\nI meditate like a Buddhist, holy ramen noodles\nAnd now you sleep, I'm inside your room wit' a lot of shooters\nYou wake up to this chopper tool, it's like, \"cock-a-doodle\"\nI'm awkward, cuckoo, I turn your Froot Loop to chocolate Yoo-Hoo\nI'm hotter than Honolulu, glory unto you (Glory)\nGlory\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI'm awkward, cuckoo, I turn your Froot Loop to chocolate Yoo-Hoo\nI'm hotter than Honolulu, my clothes and socks and shoes new\nI been a boo-boo since ga-ga goo-goo and Dada, FUBU\nMake everybody that knew you boo-hoo, I got them spooked too\nI drive in neutral, shock the future like Dr. Luther\nI'm not a chooser, your mom a cougar, I'll sock it to her\nMy cocaine white as a white beluga, I like bazookas\nI'm high as lunar, I'm wilder than tigers, Nikes, Pumas\nWoo, this that shit you didn't want me on\nMy weed louder than underarms and car alarms\nCheers, I said, \"Surprise,\" but couldn't party long\nI got to get back to the grind and the drawin' board\nBut all this fuckin' artist drawin' is the art of war\nThese niggas soft as teddy bears, talk to Marky Mark\nI wet your block, leave it a waterpark, broad or dark\nI whip the work like tartar sauce, you want it hard or raw, huh?\n\nUh, glory, hallelujah\nHoly shit, I'm the shit, Porta-Potty Tunechi\nUnload the Glock profusely when sortin' out confusion\nYour motor mouth keep vroomin', I'm goin' Tony Stewart\nI'm on the fluid, I'm ruined, I'm cold as Boston Bruins\nLost in the shoo-shoo and who's who and I lost influence\nLost my point of view 'til I find a mirror, start talkin' to it\nIt told me the truth, it said I'm the shit and you party poopin'\nLord, oh, Lord\nAm I talkin' crazy? Too much coffee maybe\nI smell like money, I know broke niggas feel nauseated\nThe broads elated, my boys are faded, my car's the latest\nMy bars the greatest, they rated X like Marvel made it\nShe caught the babies, she barfed the babies, they orphans maybe\nWe got that white girl like in the '80s, that Marcia Brady\nI dicked Tracy like Warren Beatty, I'm warm as Haiti\nI'm armed and lazy, I'm sprayin' until my arms is lazy\nPardon my mental, I'm higher than Continental\nWent from flyin' cockroaches to flyin' without credentials\nThat's private, tell the pilot, \"Be quiet, we need our privacy\"\nThrow you off this bitch if you wired, justifiably\nHustle wit' a motive, you know this, I'm wit' my whoadies\nNo snakes, no rodents, no ad-libs, no chorus\nNo stress, no worries, hook you to a respiratory\nIt's self-explanatory, the glory is mandatory, glory\n\nUh, glory, hallelujah\nHoly shit, I can't hold this shit, my bowel's looser\nMy towel's newer, my powder room is for powder-users\nYou see rolled up dollar bills filled wit' snot and mucus\nMy tires Lucas, my driver's cruisin', my partner's ruthless\nMy flower's rootless, my pocket's roofless, she poppin' roofies\nI'm not a student, I'm not assumin' I'm not a human\nYou are not immune to this kind of music, you got 'em, Tunechi\nYou got 'em, Tunechi, I got 'em\nGlory, hallelujah (I got 'em)\n(Glory)\nI got 'em\n(I got 'em)\nI got 'em"}
{"text":"Grindin\u2019, grindin\u2019\nGrindin\u2019, grindin\u2019\nGrindin\u2019, grindin\u2019\nGrindin\u2019, grindin\u2019\n\nI\u2019m grindin\u2019, I\u2019m grindin\u2019, I\u2019m grindin\u2019 I promise\nI fuck her until I get tired, retire and then come out retirement\nMy girl like it rough she said \u201cfind me a diamond\u201d\nHer body be grindin\u2019\nLord we be on every kind of narcotic\nThat make us believe, when we lyin\u2019, we honest, I love you\nPick, Michael Jackson to Jordan to Tyson to Myers\nToo much dirty money when the colors\nAre washing the whites in the dryer my nigga\nIt ain\u2019t rocket science just rockets\nI sleep in pussy not pajamas, grindin'\nI got this shit down to a science, I turn in my project, A minus\nWhew, I ain\u2019t crazy, I\u2019m krazy and all of my niggas chaotic\nDressed in all black like they gothic\nMusic too loud to hear sirens, we pop, pop, pop up where you stay\nKnock, knock, knock, anyone home?\nPop, pop, pop, pop then we outtie\nI need a bitch like Naomi to take off her clothes like Leilani for niggas that\u2019s grindin\u2019\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nNigga I\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nGrindin\u2019 for all my shit\nYeah, I\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nI put time into all this shit\nMan, I\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nI\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nPerfect timing with all my shit\nI\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\n\nThe feds be spying on all of us nigga\nThese hoes be lying to all of us nigga\nI got news for the monogamous niggas\nYo' bitch fucking anonymous niggas\nI done seen it all my nigga\n'Cause these hoes seeing all of my niggas\n'Cause what\u2019s the hottest shit on these corners?\nThat\u2019s me and all my niggas\nGrind for all this shit, I ain\u2019t ever fall for that bitch\n'Cause picking up the feather from a lovebird\nIs like a medicine ball to that bitch\nWe'll bring Gucci bag in this bitch\nAnd you know what's stashed in that bitch\nThese niggas walk around with they chests out\nLike Janet Jackson and shit\nI\u2019m sweatin\u2019 grindin\u2019 this bitch, I need a shrine in this bitch\nFuck double O seven, I work twenty-four seven\nAin\u2019t got time to bond with no bitch\nHeard Jay Z got a new Cognac, where to find that shit?\nThe weed sticky, grind that shit\nWhere I got it from? Nevermind that shit\nNigga, I'm grindin'\nNigga I\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nGrindin\u2019 for all my shit\nYeah, I\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nI put time into all this shit\nMan, I\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nI\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nPerfect timing with all my shit\nI\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\n\nYeah\nI got a new vision for all my shit (for all my)\nI don\u2019t know what to call that shit (don\u2019t know what to call it)\nI know, I\u2019m selling all of my cars\nI\u2019m selling all of my watches\nI\u2019m selling diamonds and all of that shit\nRealized I don\u2019t need that shit (don\u2019t need it)\nI\u2019m a different breed with this shit (yeah)\nI\u2019m tryna turn M\u2019s to B\u2019s in this bitch (yeah)\nAnd I ain\u2019t ever pay to be with no bitch (woo!)\nI, I, I want that Brigitte Bardot hanging over my bed\nFifty mill' in one room (huh?)\nYou, you could ask anyone out here who running the game?\nAnd they\u2019ll tell you the truth, man, they tell you (and they tell you)\nOh look, they fuck with me now (hey)\nI think they\u2019re hearin' me now (yeah)\nSomeone said, \"Nigga, they takin' you seriously now\"\nI\u2019m like, \"I think they just might be scared of me now\" (might be scared of me now)\nBut it\u2019s all good, niggas wrong every day (every day), niggas wrong every day (true)\nGone, goin' to LA where I\u2019m tryna get high and do a song every day\nSafe, we ain\u2019t ever have to play it safe (nope)\nI would rather stack it up and put it in a safe\nThen peek inside the safe and see I\u2019m runnin' out of space\nMothafucka, that\u2019s grindin'\nNigga I\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nGrindin\u2019 for all my shit\nYeah, I\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nI put time into all this shit\nMan, I\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nI\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\nPerfect timing with all my shit\nI\u2019m grindin\u2019 for all my shit\n\n(Grindin\u2019, grindin\u2019) Perfect timing\n(Grindin\u2019, grindin\u2019)\n(Grindin\u2019, grindin\u2019)\nI would rather stack it up and put it in the safe\nThen peek inside the safe and say I\u2019m running out of space\nBelieve that\n\nScoob, find another oo-wop\nTell them niggas cool out\n'Cause it can be a mohafucking shoot-out\nKidnap a nigga, beat the truth out\nMoms pick the suit out\nTop floor, window he get threw out\nDeuce out, pussy bitches, deuce out\nFlying out the crew out, they flew out\nInvite 'em to my new house, my new house\nI\u2019m fucking every night up in my new house\n'Cause bitch I worked too hard for this new house, grindin\u2019\nI\u2019m fucking every night up in my new house\n'Cause bitch I worked too hard for this new house, I'm grindin\u2019\nI\u2019m fucking every night up in my new house\n'Cause bitch I worked too hard for this new house, I\u2019m grindin\u2019\n\nTwap, twap!\nTwap, twap!\nIn the new house, we got the twap"}
{"text":"You who are rich and whose troubles are few\nMay come around to see my point of view\nWhat price the crown of a king on his throne\nWhen you\u2019re chained in the dark all alone?\n\nI\u2019m real as they come, I follow the rules\nI\u2019m still in the hood but I probably should move\nMade enough money, I don\u2019t fuck around\nI just felt they needed me so I stuck around\nFeds got my man, shit is real son\n'Cause my godson just became my real son\nThink life is a game but all you get is a turn\nYou live and you learn, either you freeze or you burn\nKush in the air, I\u2019m pushin' the gears\nLove turned into hate, hate turned into fear\nIf it ain't right, I don\u2019t sign the deal\nShoot me in the watch, I got time to kill\nGasoline, propane\nAin't no salary cap in the dope game\nAin't no collective bargainin' on cocaine\nSo in other words, nigga, do your thing\n\nMind in one place, heart in another\nPlease pardon my brother, he\u2019s just angry at you niggas\nWho don't have your heart in your rap shit\nAnd got too fuckin' comfy\n'Cause we still fuckin' hungry, Young Money, got the munchies\nFaded, fuckin' faded, aw yeah I'm fuckin' faded\nThey tellin\u2019 lies about me, aw yeah, I must've made it\nRikers Island on this flow, eight months for that pistol\nBut at least they had some bad bitches workin\u2019 in that shit hole\nThree visits later, I went and did it major\nSo fuck the judge, and the jury, and the litigator\nWatchin' all these kids who thought they had it figured out\nAnd then November came, they let my nigga out\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nUh, stop playin', I ain't with that bullshit\nNiggas act like bitches, Sheneneh, oh my goodness\nThis is Wayne\u2019s world, and y\u2019all are just some tourists\nGive me three wishes, I wish, I wish, I wish you would bitch\nBrand new pussy, pussy good as baby powder\nTwo Glock .40's, nigga, you got 80 problems\nSwimmin\u2019 in the money, I'ma need some fuckin' goggles\nIt's better to give, but we don't give a fuck about 'em\nI just came home, shit done got real, ho\nLil' Weezyana, the boot nigga, steel toe\nI ain't workin' with a full deck but I deal, ho\nI just touched down, kick the motherfuckin' field goal\nTalkin \u2019bout baby money? I got your baby money\nKidnap your bitch, get that \"how-much-you-love-your-lady\" money\nI know you fake, nigga, press your brakes, nigga\nI\u2019ll take you out, that\u2019s a date, nigga\nI'm a grown-ass Blood, stop playin' with me\nPlay asshole and get an ass whippin\u2019\nI think you pussy cat, ha, Hello Kitty\nI just throw the alley-oop to Drake Griffin\nI lay 'em down, Tempurpedic\nThis shits a game of chess, you niggas think it's cleavage\nIts Young Money, yeah, tis the season\nI give you the business, bitch this a business meetin'\nMy niggas hungry, my bitches greedy\nWill I die a bloody murder? Dear Mr. Ouija\nNigga, I'm straight, my girl a faggot\nPotato on the barrel, pop-pop-potato salad"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishHow to Hate Lyrics\n\nShe owes me everything and she knows it\nI've seen all the scenes in this movie, and she blows it at the end\nShe keeps talking to me, cause she knows that I'm a friend\nBut I can't keep hearing it over and over again\nI was the one that you came to\nWhen you broke up with your boyfriend, man, fuck him\nGirl I was the one, that told you fuck them other niggas\nAnd you still went and fucked them other niggas\nMost people learn from the bad things\nI hope that you learn and don't crash and burn in the fast lane\nBut if you read this letter then you caught me\nThis should explain all the ways that you taught me\n\nHow to hate a bitch that owe you everything\nAt least a wedding ring, moving on to better things\nSo don't you call me talking bout them other fools\nI'm not good enough for you, I thought that we was cool\nIf you need a shoulder to cry on, girl I won't listen\nI'm through fucking with these bitch ass bitches\n\nAnd I don't love them hoes\nBut don't fuck up with Wayne cause when it \"Waynes\" it pours\nNo really, I'm on my \"fuck that bitch\" shit\nYou used to be the shit, but now you ain't shit, bitch\nI had a red bone, but she be tripping though\nAll that bullshit is for the birds, she was pigeon toed\nShe used to always say, fuck my niggas\nAnd when I went to jail, she fucked my niggas\nWell, I guess I'm single for the night\nAnd you can sit right on my middle finger for the night\nAnd if I sound mad, then you caught me\nBut this shit explains that you're the one that taught me\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nHow to hate a bitch that owe you everything\nAt least a wedding ring, moving on to better things\nSo don't you call me talking bout them other fools\nI'm not good enough for you, I thought that we was cool\nIf you need a shoulder to cry on, girl I won't listen\nI'm through fucking with these bitch ass bitches\n\nCoconut Ciroc\nForgive and forget, bitch I already forgot\nI'm over the bitch, and she over the top\nThey say love is the key, somebody changed the lock\nWell, and I wish I never met ya\nAnd I heard you're doing you, and you heard I'm doing better\nAnd all I had to do was put two and two together\nBut that just makes four, but not forever, damn\nSo much for being the perfect couple\nI put in overtime, I was working doubles\nI wish you the best, good luck boo\nWeezy F, for \"Fuck you\"\n\nNo ain't nothing going on\nGirl I'm moving on, just take your ass home\nGet away from here girl, I'm so glad you're gone\nThis is the last song I'm writing for you\nNow I see how you can be\nI don't want you 'round me all you do is down me girl\nHow many years I tried to get ya\nDon't even text my phone when it hit ya, cause girl you done taught me\nHow to hate a bitch that owe you everything\nAt least a wedding ring, moving on to better things\nSo don't you call me talking bout them other fools\nI'm not good enough for you, I thought that we was cool\nIf you need a shoulder to cry on, girl I won't listen\nI'm through fucking with these bitch ass bitches"}
{"text":"Let it all work out, let it all work out\nLet it all work out, let it all work out\nLet it all work out, let it all work out\nLet it all work out, let it all work out\nWork out, yeah\nI'm in this bitch\nYeah, was on the outside, looking in this bitch\nBut now I\u2019m in this bitch\nYeah, I'm in this bitch\n\nTunechi, you a genius\nLooked in the mirror said\n\"Don't let the money come between us\"\nI\u2019m loaded, loaded at my earliest convenience\nBut fuck 'em, I feel like I got ten middle fingers\nI'm sippin', sippin' in this bitch and poppin' uppers\nGirl, take this, this that shit that give a flower color\nAnd some bitch named Wonder Woman told me not to wonder\nThe crumbs, you only see 'em when the cookie crumble\nReal shit, nigga, my candle still lit\nHad to swallow my pride, though, swear it tastes like spearmint\nBig up to my nigga with a strap on 'em\nI never turn my back on \u2019em\n\u2019Cause nigga act like they cool with ya\nBut a lot of these niggas be transformers\nA lot of these players be bench-warmers\nThe game ain't easy, but it\u2019s fair, nigga\nI'mma sit in this throne so long\n'Til it's a fucking rocking chair, nigga\nBad bitch play with my hair, nigga\nSaid, \"Relax, Tune, baby don\u2019t stress out\"\nBut I got a lot of shit on my mind, though\nShe said, \"Let that shit work itself out\"\n\"Let that shit work itself out\"\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nC5\nYeah, back in this bitch\nTune you left this bitch\nLike you knew this bitch was gon' let your ass back in this bitch\nLet it all work out, let it all work out\nBut ain't nobody else like you in this bitch\nLet it all work out, let it all work out\nLet it all work out\nAin't nobody else like you in this bitch\n\nCita, you a psychic\n'Cause you said there be days like this\nThey want a piece of me, I ain't the one that's serving slices\nPlease swallow, I had my share of dirty diapers\nReal shit, pussy niggas on that guilt trip\nIt'll be on in a heartbeat\nYou can't hear no pussy nigga's shit skip\nI fear God, never fear men\nGive back, never give in\nBeat odds, never beat women\nKeep an open mind, let 'em peek in it\nReach highs, never reach limits\nNeed minds, I don't need plenty\nThis C5, this for BI and Left Eye, and T-Boz\nWhen I seen Chilli at the Floyd fight\nI almost asked her to creep with me\nBut I was young, and I held my tongue\nBut with that tongue, I just keep spitting\nSo it all worked out\nAnd now I'm in this bitch\nAnd life said, \"Tune, you knew me for way too long\"\nI never change, you know I been this bitch\nAnd then she said, \"Let it all work out\"\n\"Let it all work out, let it all work out\" (Yeah)\n\"Let it all work out, let it all work out\"\n\nTunechi, you a monster\nLooked in the mirror, but you wasn't there, I couldn't find ya\nI'm lookin' for that big, old smile, full of diamonds\nInstead, I found this letter you ain't finished writin'\nIt read, \"I'm sorry for even apologizing\"\nI tried, compromising and went kamikaze\nI found my momma's pistol where she always hide it\nI cry, put it to my head and thought about it\nNobody was home to stop me, so I called my auntie\nHung up, then put the gun up to my heart and pondered\nToo much was on my conscience to be smart about it\nToo torn apart about it, I aim where my heart was pounding\nI shot it, and I woke up with blood all around me\nIt's mine, I didn't die, but as I was dying\nGod came to my side and we talked about it\nHe sold me another life and he made a prophet\nYeah, and he said\n\"Let it all work out\" (Yeah)\n\"Let it all work out\"\n(I'm still in this bitch)\n\"Let it all work out\"\n(Yeah, thank God 'cause I'm still in this bitch)\n\"Let it all work out\"\nLet it all work out (Phew)\n\"Let it all work out\"\n(But he said, \"Remember this:\")\n\"Let it all work out\"\n\"Let it all work out\"\n(\"Ain't nobody else like you in this bitch\")\n\"Let it all work out\" (Yeah)\n\"Let it all work out\"\n(\"And don't forget what I did this, bitch\")\n\"Let it all work out\"\n(\"Can't even remember when I didn't, bitch\")\n\"Let it all\u2014\"\n\"Let it all work out\" (Yeah)\n\"Let it all work out\"\n(\"Now I'm out this bitch\")\n\"Let it all work out\"\n(\"I'm out this bitch\")\n\"Let it all\u2014\"\n(\"And it all worked out\")\nLove you, Dwayne"}
{"text":"God bless america...\n- Carter, are you prepared to take the constitutional oath?\n- I am...\n- Will you place your left hand on the Bible and raise your right hand and repeat after me, I...\n\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\n\nSitting on the world, I got life in my hand\nSo these days I try to think twice when I can\nMoney on my mind as God as my witness\nLove don't live here and it don't even visit\nI do this for my Uptown politicians\nWalked in the kitchen and found a pot to piss in\nNiggas ain't satisfied until they mama missin'\nNiggas ain't satisfied until they mama miss 'em\nUh, I'm a monster, exorcisms\nTote tools like mechanics, mechanisms\nUh, detrimental on any instrumental\nI say you rappers sweet I pay the incidentals\nI'm beneficial, I've been official\nI say you rappers sweet, tiramisu\nI like my short cake shorter\nAin't no motherfucker harder than\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\n\nNobody gives you a chance, you gotta take chances\nYour family tree, I will break branches\nCause I don't give a fuck, I put the ass in assassin\nSmoke you like a blunt then it's ashes to ashes\nThe future is born, put the past in the casket\nIf real shit is dead then nigga I'm a bastard\nUh, appetite for disaster\nI want a full plate then another plate after\nUh, yesterday just died\nTomorrow never cried, the days of our lives\nWhen shit get deep I'm never afraid to dive\nLet the money pile up until I'm buried alive\nAsk who the fuck want it, I bring it to your doorbell\nHave niggas in ya yard like a yard sale\nSmoking weed, getting head in the oval office\nI changed the stars on the flag into crosses\n\nAmen, so now instead of pledge, we pray, yeah\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\nPresident Carter, Pre-President Carter\n\nYa dead to me, brown grass nigga\nI just stand still and let the ground pass nigga\nBullshit for lunch, brown bag nigga\nReality\u2019s a bitch and I'mma dance with her\nBitch I'm in the building you ain't even in the lounge\nI tried to fuck the world and couldn't even get aroused\nI ain't looking for the beef but I ain't seen it in a while\nUh, and we all want world peace\nMurder show, I give your ass good seats\nShit, I'm much more than a good speech\n\nGorillas in suits\nThe holy war, the spiritual troops\nFighting over the mythical truth\nDrowning in the political soup\nThey shoot missiles and nukes\nTaking out such a pivotal group\nThe body count is the physical proof\nAnd they thought drugs were killing the youth, \nThank you, thank you all, I am President Carter"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olI\u2019m Good (Dedication 5) Lyrics\nEverything I said I'd do, I did\nI'm good, I'm good\nEverything I said I'd do, I did\n\nBut baby lets face it, I'm not into dating\nI haven't been patient\nEver since I been famous my time has been racing\nMy motives are basic, this life I've been chasing\nThese hearts I've been breaking\nAnd these girls I been tasting don't never get naked\nThey like it in a head lock fuck 'em from behind\nFuck 'em with their clothes on, put it to the side\nFeelings to the side like a don do\nGet 'em wet, let it slide like a sunroof\nGot goals, got dreams, got a hotel-crib\nGot niggas that'll die for the prince\nGot my city on lock, XO 'til the death\nLeft town in a coach came back in a jet\n\nI'm good, I'm not living like I did before\nI'm good, I'm good, I said I'm good\nEverything I said I'd do, I did\nI'm good, said I'm good\nOh, I been good\nI've been out there puttin' down that work\nI'm good, said I'm good, I said I'm good\nEverything I said I'd do, I did\nI'm good, motherfucker I'm good\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nThis is dedicated to everybody who forgot\nForgetful motherfuckers\nRemember, don't you remember?\nI been good, we good"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsI\u2019m Single Lyrics\nCamo shorts and Bubba Kush\nWe can talk she'd rather fuss\nThis and that 'bout such and such\nDamn, where is the fucking trust\nI'm tired of the hoop and hollering\nI'm 'bout to take the coupe to Collins\nThen take a female to the Island\nThen take her clothes off and do the honors\nYeah, now she hear I'm with them other bitches\nYeah, I told her mind her fucking business\nShit she probably out here fucking niggas\nI'm fucking her friends\nNow her friends ain't even fucking with her\nDamn, she text me all day and night\nSo pissed off she ain't even spelling shit right\nI text her back, and tell her it's life\nNow somebody tell them hoes, I'm single for the night\n\nYeah, I'm single\nNigga had to cancel that bitch like Nino\nI ain't tripping on nothing, I'm sipping on something\nAnd my homeboy say he got a bad bitch for me\nAnd I'm single, yeah, I'm single\nAnd I'm single, tonight I'm single\nAnd I ain't tripping on nothing, I'm sipping on something\nAnd my homeboy say he got a bad bitch for me tonight\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nDreads braided to the back\nI'm chilling but my swag on full attack\nAnd my girl acting like a brat\nSo when she call, I don't answer, I just write her back\nShe hate it when I do that shit\nAnd when I get home she go through my shit\nShe call numbers back to see who that is\nMan I hate it when she do that shit\nPolo t-shirt, Polo drawers\nNow make me take this Polo off\nGirl you can get broken off\nYeah, I fuck you for an hour then I smoke it off\nSwimming trunks and bathing suits\nThen go in the bedroom and tell the naked truth\nDon't wanna fuss, ain't tryna fight\nMan somebody tell them hoes I'm single for the night\n\nYeah, I'm single\nNigga had to cancel that bitch like Nino\nI ain't tripping on nothing, I'm sipping on something\nAnd my homeboy say he got a bad bitch for me\nAnd I'm single, yeah, I'm single\nAnd I'm single, tonight I'm single\nAnd I ain't tripping on nothing, I'm sipping on something\nAnd my homeboy say he got a bad bitch for me tonight\nNow she got on her fuck 'em dress\nAnd I got on my double-breast\nAnd he been fussing all day with her\nAnd I make her feel special like a place kicker\nShe wanna be Weezy F Baby-sitter\nSay she wish she could cut my dick off and take it with her\nI say hold up\nShe say she just playing\nThen I falls in that pussy like quick sand\nHot sex and cold wine\nShe left that nigga hanging like a clothes line\nI cut my phones off, both lines\nIt's about to get nasty, pork rinds\nShe came hard, both times\nWe both say we single, and we both lying\nWe both wrong, but it feel right\nPut your hands up if you single for the night\n\nYeah, I'm single\nNigga had to cancel that bitch like Nino\nI ain't tripping on nothing, I'm sipping on something\nAnd my homeboy say he got a bad bitch for me\nAnd I'm single, yeah, I'm single\nAnd I'm single, tonight I'm single\nAnd I ain't tripping on nothing, I'm sipping on something\nAnd my homeboy say he got a bad bitch for me tonight\nIf you're single, put your hands up\nIf you're single, put your hands up\nIf you're single, put your-\nIf you're single tonight\nIf you're single, put your hands up\nIf you're single, put your hands up\nIf you're single\nIf you're single tonight"}
{"text":"43 ContributorsPussy Money Weed Lyrics\nI love her like\u2014\nOh\u2014 Oh, yes, I love her like\u2014\nOh\u2014 Oh, yes, I love her like\u2014\nOh\u2014 Oh, yes, I love her like\u2014\nOh\u2014 Oh, yes, I love her like\u2014\n\nOh, yes, I love her, like Egyptian\nWant a description? Her body's sickening\nI can be her prescription, I can be her physician\nSexual healing: I can be her religion\nAnd now, she's kneeling, praying to the ceiling\nI bless her as if she sneezed\u2014must be the weather\nI dress her: I am her sleeves, I am her feathers\nShe's fly\u2014flyer than you, flyer than me\nI love her; she loves me, too; I love her three times\nMore than her mom; time will tell that I'm the nigga that\nShe should\u2014we should be wherever she wanna be on a\nLate night, midday, A.M., just say when\nAnd I know I be with cavemen, but never mind them\nShe's \"Poison,\" and I am Michael Bivins\nSee, I know that y'all don't hear me, but she does; we does\nWhat grown folk do when they had too much to drink, and I think\nWe done had too much to drink, and\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\n(Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n(Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n(Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n(Oh\u2014 Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n\nOh, yes, I love her like I ought to\nI see you at the altar, Mrs. Carter\nI see you with my daughter, or son\u2014more than one\nMaybe five, like the Jacksons, or John Paxson\nJust don't let 'em fuck up the mansion\nAnd Daddy will be home later on\nSmelling like the cologne that I put on this morn\nAnd I hope that you smell like woman's soap and shampoo\nAnd lotion and perfume and candles\nAnd I'ma run through that pussy like a vandal, yes\nI'm nasty as a Scorpio, but I'm a lucky Libra\nGot her wet like she's sweating out a fever\u2014wow!\nLeave her to me, and she'll be smiling every single time you see her\nFrom ear to ear\nI want to be beside her when she sleep as she lay\nOr we can stay awake and watch the next day\nClothes are overrated; panties are debated\nEinstein: Her head is the greatest\n(Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n(Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n(Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n(Oh\u2014 Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n\nOh, yes, I love her like her dad told her no man would ever love her\u2014oh, and\nI better be the only man sticking it\nLicking it like an envelope; mailing it, sealing it, read it\nI have written down Victoria's Secret\u2014don't tell nobody\nDon't share your body with nobody\u2014not even a finger\nI will cut it off and let him keep it\u2014that ass for Weezy, baby\nAnd at my station, we have sex orientation\nWhen I hit it, she squint like them Orient Asians; I do me\nI say, \"Hey, Ms. Chun Li, I like to see your booty\u2014\nRoll, like sushi\"; I'm tryna dip my celery up in her bleu cheese\n\"Ah\"s, \"Ooh-wee\"s\n\"Voila\"s, \"Ta-da\"s, \"Mhm\"s, \"Uh-huh\"s\n\"Oh, yeah\"s, never \"Oh, no\"s until I have to go\nAnd then it's: \"Never! Oh, no!\" I tell her, \"Don't cry\u2014\nI be back like the electric bill\"\nAnd when she butt-naked, she dressed to kill\n(Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n(Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n(Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed\n(Oh\u2014 Oh, yes, I love her like) Pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed; pussy, money, weed"}
{"text":"Yeah, Dedication 6, of course\nShout out Guru for sendin' me the beat, too\nYoung Angel, Young Lion\nMore Life, no dyin'\nYeah, alright, I got it, yeah\n\nSuper Bowl goals, I'm at the crib with Puff\nHe got Kaepernick on the phone, he in a whole different mode\nAngel hair at 2AM for Bey and Hov\nJust to show 'em how I treat the city like my humble abode\nAyy, tell me if TD Bank is approvin' loans\nI'm thinkin' of payin' Wayne what Universal owes\nMy nigga spent a lifetime goin' platinum and gold\nHe should own half of the label, shit outta control\nSomebody get Larry Jackson on the phone\nI need some ownership if we pressin' go\n'Cause business is boomin' on behalf of me\nI need a bite outta the Apple like Adam and Eve\nWe gon' have to break the billi' curse\nI need my paper long like \"A Milli\" verse\nOr too long like a sentence from a Philly judge\nFuck is the point in all the beefin' when we really blood?\nNobody wins when the family feuds, nigga\nEverybody gotta eat, we can't exclude niggas\nI make the crib, expandin' pools and expandin' rooms\nAddin' Hammam Spas with tannin' booths, nigga\nThat's truth, no boost, nigga\nBut this isn't all about callin' truce\nI'm still dishin' out verbal abuse\nThat shit could get re-introduced\nIf somebody got somethin' they urgin' to prove, nigga\nInspirin' to the youth\nNew Years Eve, lookin' like a royal flush\nWait, we all in the same suit\nI'm Hall of Fame in the booth, nigga\nMy karma makin' the news, nigga\nThis pudding taste like the proof, nigga\nIf I ever see Trump, he better salute niggas\nMuch as we do, nigga, for real\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nSix shit\n\nI could care less 'bout your squad, I don't connect when I'm flyin'\nI'm on a jet and it's mine, I just hope the weather is fine\nI took the jet to Dubai, I took the jet to Milan\nI took the jet way to Africa, shout out my nigga Akon\nYour bitch sweatin' my squad, please get the sweat out her eye\nI put the dick in her spine, I fucked the bitch in her prime\nDon't get my credit declined, give all the credit to Moms\nI flipped the bird at the Bird \u2013 hey, what's for dinner? Popeyes\nThese chickens got bird flu, and they chirp, chirp too\nAlways sung, never flew, these boys Hot Girls too\nIf money grow on trees, I climb and rest in that bitch\nBuild a treehouse and knock the bird nest out that bitch\nStuck my neck out and shit, then got the heck out that shit\nAnd when I did, I took the special effect out of that shit\nTunechi F 'round this bitch, the best thing left 'round this bitch\nAll you niggas some bitches, I feel like Hef 'round this bitch\nYou call her Stephanie, I call her Steph 'round this bitch\nNow back to whippin' the baby on some step mama shit\nI come direct with my shit, I come correct with my shit\nA blank check on your face, put some respek on my shit\nBranches startin' to shake, here comes the leaves, get the rake\nI want my piece of the cake, it should be sweeter than cake\nHere come the leaves, get the rake, and we ain't leavin' the rake\nWe made the cleanest escape, although I bleeped in your face\nYou playin' with the right one today\nYour flag is a white one today\nYou wearin' em tight ones today\nCheck me or write one today\nYou playin' with fire today\nThe Angel and Lion are greats\nOh my God, lightning strikin' twice in this place\nShould we make a wish or should we make it right in this place?\nAll this motherfuckin' beef, I need some rice on this plate\nTalked to your wifey today, she feelin' triflin' she say\nTalked to the sniper, he say he aimin' at diapers today\nPick you off like pickin' peppers, Peter Piper today\nSo tell your squad I say \"BLAOW\" like Spice 1 would say\nIt's Mortal Kombat tonight, it's Street Fighter today\nI'm Major Bison, Drizzy lit like Raiden light up the place\nYou see blue face hundreds 'til you white in the face\nOh my God, it feel like I done life in this place\nBut swear to God, I got money doin' life in my safe\nPut on the gloves like MJ, go from OG to OJ\nI make you pay attention then rip your receipt in your face\nThis for Cita and Nae, this for my people and bae\nI got three sons of a gun, them niggas keep me on safe\nHol' up, I am the black god to the church\nI am the fat boy to dessert\nI am the landlord to the first, got two bangers\nOne of them go \"bada boom,\" one of them go \"bada bing\"\nI taught these hoes how to love, I taught these boys how to lean\nI'm high in the sky and I twinkle, the eyes don't lie 'til you blink 'em\nKeep the iron for the wrinkles\nThe mansion came with the sprinklers\nI want Arabian wealth\nYou snakes come make me a belt\nYeah, you know life is a movie, you niggas playin' yourselves, damn\nThat's some six shit\nYeah, yeah, yeah, I want Arabian wealth\nYou snakes come make me a belt\nIt's every man for themselves, it's every baby for sale\nAnd you know life is a movie, you niggas ratin' yourself\nI just hope it\u2019s a porn to watch you pussies play with yourself\nThat's some six shit"}
{"text":"(Juice808)\nLook what you made me do\nMe! That's who\n\nI'm sorry for the wait, I'm sorry for the wait (Tell 'em, tell 'em!)\nTha Carter gon' be late so I cooked up a tape (Tell 'em!)\nThe garden's full of snakes so I had to escape\nLil homie gon' be straight, lil homie gon' be straight!\nWoo! OW!\n\nAnd this that Sorry 4 The Wait 2\nYeah, and I'm sorry for the wait, too\nI told myself to save yourself\n'Cause I can't save you (I can't save you)\nI send my goons to kill somebody\nI need head proof (I need head proof)\nFuck it (fuck it!) This that Sorry 4 The Wait 2\nI ain't trippin', I got Barbie, I got Drake too (I ain't trippin'!)\nI send my goons to kill somebody, I need head proof (Mula!)\nThen they come through and sit it on my coffee table\nBoop!\n\nWho kept this shit together? Nigga, me, that's who (nigga, me!)\nWho was there when niggas left us? Nigga, me, that's who\nCash Money is an army, I'm a one man army (yeah)\nAnd if them niggas comin' for me, I'm goin' out like Tony\n(Bap-bap-bap-bap)\nNow I don't want no problems\nI just want my money (want my money)\nAin't gotta hold no conversation\nNor my luggage (nor my luggage)\nTell whoever's countin' that I'm on a hundred\nWoo, Birdman Junior \u2013 more like Ugly Duckling\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nTakin' over, now I'm takin' over, yeah (now I'm takin' over)\nThink it over? Bitch, I'm thinkin' forward, ta\nI'm sippin' lean out a glass, nigga\nAll I got is Young Money \u2013 no more Cash, nigga, ayy!\n\nAnd this that Sorry 4 The Wait 2\nNo more am I my brother's keeper \u2013 Cain and Abel\nYoung Money sharp, I'm still eatin'\nI just chipped my tooth (Mula!)\nTell them niggas \u2013 no love lost, 'cause I ain't got shit to lose\nI told myself to save yourself\n'Cause I can't save you (I can't save you)\nI send my goons to kill somebody\nI need head proof (I need head proof)\nI found the needle in the haystack, put the thread through\nI tried to stitch the wound back up, but I just bled through\n\nYeah, it's compensation over conversation (no more conversation)\nLord, I must got blurry vision, a nigga's got two faces (amen)\nLord, this game is a vampire (woo!)\nBlood, you gotta protect your neck\nIt'll suck you dry like raisins, Lord\nBut fuck that, nigga, got it drawn out\nFuck that nigga, I'ma ball out\nThe day you met me is the day Hell froze\nOn the day I left is when it thawed out (ayy!)\nI'm still in the buildin'\nI just had to knock a couple walls down, had to kick y'all out (ayy)\nLife is a movie, but sometimes a nigga get too tired of watchin'\nAnd walk out\nTakin' over, Lord I'm takin' over\nDropped the Sorry 4 The Wait until the wait is over\nSippin' lean out a flask, nigga\nAnd all I do is smoke, fuck, and thrash, nigga, ayy!\n\nAnd this that Sorry 4 The Wait 2 (sorry for the wait)\nFuck these haters, throw your board up if you skate too\nI send my goons to kill somebody, I need head proof\nThen they come through and sit it on my coffee table\nTunechi \u2013 niggas don't appreciate you (don't appreciate you)\nYou've been down since day one\nIt meant nothin' on day two (damn)\nSometimes the truth is hard to swallow, and to say, too\nBut I graduated from that bullshit, now I hate school\n\nAnd now I'm takin' over, now I'm takin' over (takin' over)\nThe old me dead and gone, that's who I'm prayin' over\nMight have to go back to slangin' yola 'til the wait is over\nIf so, then I got bakin' soda, I got bakin' soda..."}
{"text":"83 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisWowzers Lyrics\nSoulja Boy on the beat\nAyy!\n\nMy tongue is a uzi, my dick is a AK\nMy tongue is a uzi, my dick is a AK\nMy tongue go brrrr, my dick go bahh\nMy tongue go brrrr, my dick go bahh, bitch!\n\nLay on the bed, open that twat\nI French kiss that pussy, like muah\nSit on my face, M-U-A-H\nBefore I eat that pussy, I say my grace\nGirl I'm nastier than him, I don't know why you still with him\nBeat that pussy, go to sleep, she got that Tylenol P.M\nFuck that bitch until she tired, 'til she tired like a rim\nGive her head like a brim, it tastes good, M-M-M\nPussy monster in her closet, full of surprises\nI give full body massages, I hope that pussy smell like a violet\nI hope that pussy warmer than luke and sweet as Godiva\nSuck this dick and swallow that nut and call it Penis colada\nLift up that mini-skirt, that's my dinner desert\nShe fell in love with the Martian, I said you too down to Earth\nMan, these hoes love Wayne, got a bunch of dimes, that's chump change\nThis shit is target practice and your bitch is my gun range\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nMy tongue is a uzi, my dick is a AK\nMy tongue is a uzi, my dick is a AK\nMy tongue go brrrr, my dick go bahh\nMy tongue go brrrr, my dick go bahh, bitch!\n\nMy tongue is a uzi, my dick is a AK\nDown here waiting for her to come like payday\nHoping this juice is sweeter than baked cake\nShe say it's for Tunechi, she lie with a straight face\nBut I'm trying to eat healthier, so I ate a veggie\nSucked on that pussy, I feel better already\nShe say \"Tunechi go slower\" and Tunechi went faster\nMy tongue is a motor, my dick is a NASCAR\nWhipped cream on that pussy, dickhead like a bullet\nIf her hair real I'ma pull it, hope that ass feel like a cushion\nI give her wood when he wouldn't\nI hope that pussy tastes like pudding\nAnd I get that ho the boot\nHold up, let me put my foot in, Tunechi!\nGot a sweet tooth, candy-yam pussy\nI'ma leave that ass smoking like a Amsterdam tourist\nMan, these hoes love Wayne\nGot a bunch of dimes, that's chump change\nThis shit is target practice and your bitch is my gun range\nMy tongue is a uzi, my dick is a AK\nMy tongue is a uzi, my dick is a AK\nMy tongue go brrrr, my dick go bahh\nMy tongue go brrrr, my dick go bahh, bitch!\n\nLay on that bed, open your mouth\nThis pussy so clean like soap in your mouth\nI do my lil' dance, he scoping me out\nIf that dick like a tree watch me build a treehouse\nOk, the baddest bitch in this bitch, got the fattest clique in this bitch\nYou might drown, you better start doggy paddling in this bitch\nI'm Trin, B nigga? Queen nigga, sleep in this pussy, dream nigga\nI stay on that dick like a fucking balance beam nigga\nHair pull, neck grab, don't fuck with hoes that backstab\nDon't fuck with niggas that ain't got shit, if I fucked a nigga then that's my dick\nMy mouth a jacuzzi, my pussy a safe place\nFuck me 'til daybreak, then you can go skate, Trina"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsI Feel Like Dying Lyrics\nOnly once the drugs are done (Hahaha)\nDo I feel like dying, I feel like dying (Heheh, C3, hello)\nOnly once the drugs are done (Yeah, hello)\nDo I feel like dying, I feel like dying (Hehehe, get lifted)\nOnly once the drugs are done (Yeah, I get lifted)\nYeah, yeah, so get lifted, yeah\nDo I feel like dying, I feel like dying (Yeah, haha)\n\nI am sittin' on the clouds\nI got smoke coming from my seat\nI can play basketball with the moon\nI got the whole world at my feet\nPlayin' touch football on Marijuana Street\nOr, in a marijuana field, you are so beneath my cleats\nGet high, so high\nThat I feel like lying\nDown in a cigar, roll me up and smoke me\n'Cause (I feel like dying) hahaha\n\nOnly once the drugs are done (Yeah, yeah)\nDo I feel like dying, I feel like dying (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nOnly once the drugs are done (Haha, yeah)\nDo I feel like dying, I feel like dying (Hahahaha)\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nSwimmin' laps around a bottle of Louis the XIII\nJumping off of a mountain into a sea of codeine\nI'm at the top of the top, but, still I climb\nAnd if I should ever fall, the ground will then turn to wine\nPop, pop\nI feel like flying\nThen I feel like frying\nThen (I feel like dying)\n\nOnly once the drugs are done (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nDo I feel like dying, I feel like dying (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nOnly once the drugs are done (Hahaha)\nDo I feel like dying, I feel like dying (Psst!)\n\nI can mingle with the stars, and throw a party on Mars\nI am a prisoner locked up behind Xanax bars\nI have just boarded a plane without a pilot\nAnd violets are blue, roses are red\nDaisies are yellow, the flowers are dead\nWish I could give you this feeling\nI feel like buying\nAnd if my dealer don't have no more\nThen (I feel like dying) yeah\nOnly once the drugs are done (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nDo I feel like dying, I feel like dying (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nOnly once the drugs are done (Hahaha)\nDo I feel like dying, I feel like dying"}
{"text":"Tunechi\nBarbie\nYoung Money\n\nYo, I been smokin' gas, killin' bitches\nMan, I feel just like a gang-star (Ayy, ayy, ayy)\nCover up my face like a ninja\nIn this Alexander Wang scarf (Ayy, ayy, ayy)\nI'ma drop a bag, they gon' pull up\nAnd then they gon' let them things off (Ayy, ayy, ayy)\nI ain't switchin' up my hairstyle\nBut my niggas let it bang off\n\nPercocets and Addies, lookin' for a fuck I could give\nAll these hatin' bitches plottin', why they can't let me live?\nMe and Weezy in LIV (Ayy, ayy)\nWhen my album drop these bitches is gon' cry in the car\nAll your yes-men out here lyin', had you dyin' to spar\nYou was tryin' too hard (Mm)\nI'm out here livin' though, I am out here livin' though\nMe and Tunechi winnin' though\nSlimes out here twinnin' though\nI am on my pivot though, I am just so pivotal\nBands, I go get it though, Weezy on his pedestal\nA lot of gang shit, a whole lot of gang shit\nAll these plaques is pilin' up, it's nowhere to hang shit\nThese bitches pussy though\nPushed them out my pussy though\nNiggas want my cookie though\n'Cause it taste like cookie dough\nSmoke, I got a free pack; flow sick, get a Z-pak\nNiggas don't mean my race when they say \"She blacked\"\nI am the Queen (Facts), I'm everything she lacks\nBitch get on your kneecap, I don't mean C. Kaep'\nI'll get you checked, pussy; I'll get you a free pap\nYou bitches don't ball out, you get your QB sacked\nI'm OBJ, hoes; break records like ankles\nI've been that bitch since ice cream with the sprinkles\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nTell 'em carry on, they gon' miss me when I'm gone\nI'm gone (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nI just fucked like five hoes in my mansion\nGot 'em feelin' like they five star, yeah\nYour hoes throwin' fits, my bitches patient\nMan, I feel just like a doctor, yeah\nPop some X with my exotic dancer\nShe start cryin' and said her job hard, yeah\nSwitch her whip out, put her in a Mercedes\nNow she screamin' Rest In Peace to Honda\n\nCocaine on her navel, lick it so my tongue can go HAM\nPut my face up in her pussy and my thumb in her ass\nMake her do the jumpman, ayy\nI put her face down in the pillow, 'bout to smother her ass\nA fly yellow bone to me, I told her to come get a tan\nNow she butter pecan\nOh, I got a Draco in the sofa, an Eggo in the toaster\nA cradle in the chocha, the yayo doing yoga\nAnd I wake up, smell the Folgers, I don't know how I woke up\n'Cause I was in a coma, but now I'm in the moment\nWearing high socks on the front porch\nTwo cups with the mud flowin'\nThe plug ain't charge me nothin' for it\nI cried tears of fuckin' joy\nLVs on my luggage, boy\nDon't ask me where I'm fuckin' goin'\nI pull up with my skaters\nMake 'em beat you with their fuckin' boards\nSharp shooters like pool sharks\nShoot you down in the Walmart\nShoot you down in the parkin' lot\nShoot you down in the food court\nHit your crib in the Steamboat\nThen disappear on the speedboat\nAct a jackass like Steve-O\nThen disappear like Neo\nLeave a red flag on your screen door\nLeave a red flag around your queen's throat\nLeave a blood stain on your mink floor\nLike a red stain on clean snow\nThat money gang, 500 gang on that money train\nAnd we walkin' around with bloody fangs\nPlayin' hunger games; mmm-yummy, man\nAnd we storm the block, lightning and thunder came\nWhen my youngest came, that's your mother's name\nHit the address, knockin' down picture frames and other things\nThrowin' up Eastside like stomach pains\nSugarcane get took to Spain, a kilo fell and it shook the plane\nA nigga screamed, the hoes wouldn't complain\nI brought the AK with the knife, so the butcher came\nAnd the Nina came, and her sister came\nAnd what's her name, it\u2019ll go Buka Bang\nYou don't even know where to put the blame, that's cold\nI just fucked like five hoes in my mansion\nGot 'em feelin' like they five star, yeah\nYour hoes throwin' fits, my bitches patient\nMan, I feel just like a doctor, yeah\nPop some X with my exotic dancer\nShe start cryin' and said her job hard, yeah\nSwitch her whip out, put her in a Mercedes\nNow she screamin' Rest in Peace to Honda\n\nSwitch her whip out put her in a Mercedes\nNow she screamin' Rest in Peace to Mazda\nPut her ass up in a dumb Mercedes\nNow she screamin' Rest in Peace to Smart Car\nSwitch her, put her in Mercedes\nNow she screamin' Rest in Peace to Kia\nSwitch her whip out put her in a Mercedes\nNow she screamin' Rest in Peace to Uber\nThat's some sick shit"}
{"text":"As I wipe the stars off the windows on my space ship\nCall out the spirits in my basement\nCrawl out the center of the snake pit\nAnd fall into the middle of her greatness\nFireballs reflect off the frames of the pictures\nShe's not at all impressed with the flames or the flickers\nBut take her for a walk on the moon she wear her slippers\nThe end of the world is coming soon, I\u2019ma miss it\nThe sky is falling down, I am falling for her quicker\nWe hide amongst the clouds, then we pardon the enigma\nHigh above the ground but I'm under her charisma\nHer sound is in surround when I'm in her solar system\nThe quiet calms my quasars, the eclipse is eclipsin\u2019\nMy astronaut helmet kinda shifted, full of lipstick\nPlanet of the aches, and she is my prescription\nWe out of this world, baby, we have been evicted\nIntergalactical love\nThe sky is falling, intergalactical, intergalactical love\nAnd I'll be waiting for you, for you, for you\nOn the dark side of the moon\nSaid I'll be waiting, I'll be waiting for you\nOn the dark side of the moon\nAnd if you happen to get there before me\nLeave a message in the dust just for me\nIf I don't see it I'll be waiting for you\nOn the dark side of the moon (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nOpen up the curtains\nWindow-watchin', people killin', robbin\u2019\nThe sky is fallin\u2019, fallin' down\nI turn into news, and this is the apocalypse\nPeople livin\u2019 on their rocket ships\nMy mama always told me that there would be no stoppin' this\nFireball reflections on the friends and the pictures in my room\nOf I and you\nTell me, will I see you soon?\nMeet you on the moon?\n\nIntergalactic love\nThe sky is falling, falling down\nI'll be waiting for you, for you, for you\nOn the dark side of the moon\nI'll be waiting, I\u2019ll be waiting for you\nOn the dark side of the moon\nAnd if you happen to get there before me\nLeave a message in the dust just for me\nIf I don't see it, I'll be waiting for you\nOn the dark side of the moon (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nSaid I'll be waiting, I'll be waiting for you\nOn the dark side of the moon\nAnd if you happen to get there before me\nLeave a message in the dust just for me\nIf I don't see it, I'll be waiting for you\nOn the dark side of the moon (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nIntergalactical love\nThe sky is falling, intergalactic, intergalactical love\nAnd I'll be waiting for you (for you, for you)\nOn the dark side of the moon\nSaid I'll be waiting, I'll be waiting for you\nOn the dark side of the moon (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)"}
{"text":"80 ContributorsMrs. Officer Lyrics\nAyy\nAyy (yeah)\nHey (yeah)\nAyy, ayy, ayy\n(Valentino) Woo woo woo! (yeah, yeah) yeah yeah yeah\n(Yeah, yeah) Woo woo woo! (yeah) yeah yeah yeah\n(Yeah) Woo woo woo! Yeah yeah yeah\n(Yeah, yeah) Woo woo woo! (Bobby Valentino)\n\nWhen I get up all in ya (yeah)\nWe can hear the angels calling us (chyeah)\nWe can see the sunrise before us (yeah)\nAnd when I'm in that thang, I'll make that body sang\n(Deezle on the beat) I make it say\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee (ay) wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee (ay)\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee (like a cop car)\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee (ay)\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee (haha)\nI make ya say\n\nYeah, doin' a buck in the latest drop\nI got stopped by a lady cop, haha\nShe got me thinking I can date a cop, haha\nCause her uniform fit her so tight\nShe read me my rights\nShe put me in her car, she cut off all the lights\nShe said I have the right, to remain silent\nNow I got her hollering, sounding like a siren\nTalking 'bout (wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee) yeah\n(Wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee) Yeah (wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee) yeah\nAnd I know she the law, and she know I'm the boss\nAnd she know I get high, a-bove the law\nAnd she know I'm raw, she know I'm from the streets\nAnd all she want me to do is fuck the police\nTalking 'bout (wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee)\nYeah (wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee) yeah\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nWhen I get up all in ya\nWe can hear the angels calling us (yeah)\nWe can see the sunrise before us (umm)\nAnd when I'm in that thang, I'll make that body sang\nI make it say: wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee (like a cop car)\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee (yeah)\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee (hey) I'll make ya say\n\nHaha, and after we got done\nI said \"Lady, what's your number?\" She said \"911\"\nHah, emergency only\nHead doctor perform surgery on me\nYeah, and now I'm healed\nI make her wear nothing but handcuffs and heels\nThen I beat it like a cop\nRodney King, baby, yeah I beat it like a cop\nHahah! Beat it like a cop\nRodney King baby said \"Beat it like a cop\"\nBut I ain't tryna be violent\nBut I'll do the time, but her love is timeless\nMrs. Officer\nI know you wish your name was Mrs. Carter, huh?\n(Wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee) Yeah\n(Wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee) Like a cop car\nWhen I get up all in ya\nWe can hear the angels calling us\nWe can see the sunrise before us\nAnd when I'm in that thang, I'll make that body sang\nI make it say: wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, I'll make ya say\n\nMrs. Officer, Mrs. Officer\nTell your lieutenant get them cuffs off of ya\nI'm Kidd Kidd, my face on every wanted poster\nI'm wanted by every lady cop all over\nThat ass so big, I catch a battery to hold ya\nHands so big, you thought I told, \"Pull it over\"\nShe pulled me over, pulled me out the Rover\nThen she pulled me closer, do me in back of the car\nPut me in handcuffs, start ripping my pants off\nAll you heard over the dispatcher is...\n(Wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee)\n(Wee-ooh-wee-ooh wee)\n\nWhen I get up all in ya\nWe can hear the angels calling us\nWe can see the sunrise before us\nAnd when I'm in that thang, I'll make that body sang\nI make it say\nMaybe you can lock me up and throw away the key\nCall your sergeant and tell him you can't finish your shift\nCause it's on tonight\nBreakfast in bed turns to breakfast and head\nAnd I can't wait to get it on\nI wanna do it all night long, Mrs. Officer\n\nWhen I get up all in ya\nWe can hear the angels calling us\nWe can see the sunrise before us\nAnd when I'm in that thang, I'll make that body sang\nI make it say: wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee\nWee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, I'll make ya say"}
{"text":"Well, it is a weepin' and a moanin' and a gnashin' of teeth\nOoh, God bless, no man cyahn curse\nIt is a weepin' and a mournin' and a gnashin' of teeth\nSo on to soundboydem\nIt is a\u2014when it comes to my sound which is the champion sound\nPussy'ole gyaldem\nA tink seh dem a-come for the crown\nBelieve, believe\nNah\nKyuh!\n\nO-O-O-O-O-Okay, Lamborghini Mercy, your chick she so thirsty\nI'm in that two seat Lambo with your girl, she tryna to jerk me\nOkay, Lamborghini Mercy, your chick she so thirsty\nI'm in that two seat Lambo with your girl, she tryna to jerk me (A Dedication!)\nOkay, Lamborghini Mercy (Young Money)\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Young Money)\nI'm in that two-seat Lambo (Young Money) with your girl\nShe tryna jerk me (Young Money)\nOkay, Lamborghini Mercy (Young Money)\nYour chick, she so thirsty (Young Money)\nI'm in that two-seat Lambo (Young Money) with your girl\nShe tryna jerk me (Young Money)\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nDrop it to the floor, make that dick shake\nMy homegirls slurp it like a milkshake\nAll you niggas want some Nic' cake\nIf you eat ass, I got a thick plate\nWee-zay, Wee-zay, don't we do this very easy?\nI came from Trinidad on a temporary vis-ayy\nCause motherfuckers know I put the hex on bitches\nI fuck a bitch over like I'm sexing bitches\nTic-tac-toe, then I put the X on bitches\nPoint game, I score, who's next, you bitches?\n'Cause all you niggas fake and all you niggas broke\nSo all you niggas\u2014fuck you; all you niggas choke\n'Cause all you do is boast and argue over hoes\nSo all you niggas toast 'cause all y'all deep throat, word\nF-fuck your Lambo, f-fuck your Murc'\nI got more money i-in in my fucking purse\nC-court side, you in the C Section\nI'm with them Bloods, you\u2014 you with the C Section\nIn Malibu I'm by the sea section\nAnd all these bitches is my sons, yeah, C-section\nI'm a Republican voting for Mitt Romney\nYou lazy bitches is fucking up the econ'my\nOut in Miami, I be chilling with a zombie\nDiablo, Alejandro, d\u00edmelo, Gandhi\nLamborghini Mercy (Swerve), your chick she so thirsty (Swerve)\nI'm in that two-seat Lambo (Swerve) with your girl, she tryna jerk me\nOkay, Lamborghini Mercy (Swerve), your chick she so thirsty (Swerve)\nI'm in that two seat Lambo with your girl (Swerve), she tryna jerk me (Swerve)\n\nWell, it is a weepin' and a moanin' (Swerve)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Swerve)\nIt is a weepin' and a mournin' (Swerve)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Swerve)\nIt is a\u2014when it comes to my sound (Swerve)\nWhich is the champion sound (Swerve)\nBelieve, believe (Swerve)\nBelieve, believe (Swerve)\n\nWell, it is a weepin' and a moanin'\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth in the dancehall\nAnd who no have teeth gwan rub pon dem gums\nCuh when time it comes to my sound\nWhich is the champion sound\nThe bugle has blown fi many times\nAnd it still have one more time left\nCuh the amount of stripe weh deh pon our shoulder\nUgh! I'm the shit\u2014turn your nose up\nI threw some bad bitches on my tour bus\nI do some bad bitches on my private jet\nIf them bitches ain't fucking, give them parachutes\nWalked up to a redbone like I'm the shit\nTold her, \"Give me that pussy, and fuck my bitch\"\nYeah, skate rebel, gun at my waist level\nBitch yellow, tape yellow, give you an H-A-L-O\nI don't do pussy niggas but get the most pussy, nigga\nI'm popping Percs, I'm sipping lean, smoking pot like cooking dinner\nMy homie T roll up my blunt, skinnier than Rex Ryan\nI'm counting money, I'm smoking plants, call that shit \"math and science\"\nNow suck dick, Trukfit, snapback on your dog ass\nThese niggas broke like Mr. Glass, they don't want none, Sister Act\nIt's Young Money, you bitch, you; my weed louder than pimp suits\nYour bitch swallow my pimp juice, her pussy wetter than swim suits\nSwish! Michael... Phelps, nigga, in your ho\nCoupe the color of YooHoo; rude boy\u2014free Buju\nFuck wrong with these fuck niggas? I been balling since '98\nFuck y'all I'd rather skate, shoot you up in your database\nI fell in love with drop-tops, I fell in love with shotguns\nOur guns bigger than cop guns; y'all ain't spitting, dry tongue\nI like wet pussy, she like hard dick, hard head make her soft fast\nTatted up from head to toe, guess you can call me a mark-man\nWayne soaring, all my whores is whoring\nAll you rappers is boring, Trukfit hat and some Jordans, ugh!\n\nLamborghini Murci' (Syrup), your chick she so thirsty (Syrup)\nI'm in that two-seat Lambo (Syrup) girl, she tryna jerk me (Haha, yeah)\nOkay, Lamborghini Murci' (Tunechi, bitch), your chick she so thirsty\nI'm in that two-seat Lambo with your girl (Dedication 4), she tryna jerk me (Ho)\n\nWell, it is a weepin' and a moanin' (Syrup)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Syrup)\nIt is a weepin' and a mournin' (Fuck them hoes, nigga)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth (Pause)\nIt is a\u2014when it comes to my sound (Syrup)\nWhich is the champion sound (Yeah, syrup)\nBelieve, believe (Lean, we the shit)\nBelieve, believe (Lean, syrup)\nWell, it is a weepin' and a moanin'\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth\nIt is a weepin' and a mournin' (Millzy, baby)\nAnd a gnashin' of teeth\nIt is a\u2014when it comes to my sound\nWhich is the champion sound (Shout-out my niggas on the island)\nBelieve, believe\nBelieve, believe (One)"}
{"text":"93 ContributorsTypa Way Lyrics\nMy niggas been stuntin' since way back when\nCNN, I got news for you haters\nI'm a nasty ass nigga, ask your bitch, I ain't lying\n69, that's a favor for a favor\n\nThem hoes bitin' they lip, cause when I say shit like that she feel some type of way\nI hit it from the front, from the side, from the back, I hit it all type of ways\nShe throw it at me like I'm just one strike away\nSometimes life is hard to swallow, but she like to taste\nDing-ding-ding-ding-ding my lawyer fight the case\nI got them flowers in me, I feel like a vase\nMonsters in my closet no more closet space\nNiggas want to be this fly, too many flights to take\n\nEnough with the small talk, my girl pussy is a water-park\nEvery little thing I do turn her on; that's autostart\nI kiss every single body part, her body is a work of art\nI'm way too high, her skirt too short\nI think I love her, it was just a THOT\nI pop up in that coupe 'bout to go back to the future\nAnd she said, \"Tune, not in my mouth,\" damn you should've said it sooner\nI be shittin' on these niggas, like I'm sippin' Metamucil\nAnd we smokin' on that gas, pass it like \"excuse you\"\nAnd it's 6-6-2's Piru all day, my nigga\nBefore these niggas play with us, they'll play dead, my nigga\nAnd if you lookin' for me, I'll be on these bitches' mind\nThese niggas chicken and I've never seen a chicken fly\nMy bitch been fussin' at me about nothin'\nAin't no tellin' what she'd do if I replace her\nLike bae, I'm straight, there's plenty fish and I'm bait\nWe can't even have a decent conversation\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI pop the seal on my sip and she be like, \"See, you gon' drink your life away\"\nBitch it's my life, my life, my life shout out Mary J\nAnd tell them boys that beef tastes like a slice of cake\nAnd old folks get shot too, they write down license plates\nI hope that ho don't call sayin' her cycle late\nAll this fucking gotta stop, but I need tighter brakes\nAnd don't run from this dick girl, I don't like to chase\nI wax that ass, she make that Mr. Miyagi face\nAnd she ain't all that pretty, but I like her shape\nThey say numbers don't lie, she shaped like a 8\nShe say she ain't no dyke, but she gon' dyke today\nIt's curtains for these niggas I feel like some drapes\nWe turnt up niggas, burnt up, stop the microwave\nThis shit might cost us our life, but that's the price we pay\nI'm hotter than the peppers Peter Piper ate\nThis that Dedication 5, whattup 5?\n\nAy Tune' I gotta turn up on the D5 man!\nHustle Gang, bang, green mean, anybody get it\nAnything we'll do for the paper\nAnd we live this shit, talk slick get kill't\nGot nothin' but a tool for a hater (Spent 100K on my wrist nigga!)\nThis flooded rollie make you feel some type of way (I know it do!)\nYour ho be on me, know you feel some type of way (I take your ho!)\nThe car I'm drivin' make you feel some type of way (They can't afford this nigga!)\nThe cash I gettin' make you feel some type of way (Bankrolls-R-Us!)\nThis type of way, know you feel some type of way (Hustle Gang my nigga!)\nThat shit ain't hot, we out here poppin' that's all I can say (G.D.O.D!)\nMy only problem is tryin' to decide what I'mma drive today (Hustle Gang my nigga!)\nWe shine all in they face, I know they feel some type of way\nI wake up in a multi-million dollar crib get dressed I plan on having a nicer day\nWhen these punk ass rappers keep my name in they mouth, like they some type of gay\nYou know me dog, so watch what you say (You better watch your mouth!)\nWe ain't playing no games with your lame ass nigga, fuckboy you can die today (I swear you can!)\nI keep a chopper in my backseat, actually it's my Glock partner (My Glock, partner!)\nPlay crazy if you want to, fuck around and get shot partner (Get shot partner!)\nI don't like these niggas, and really fuck these niggas\nTalk crazy in ya raps if you want, when you see me you won't touch me nigga! (Won't touch me niggas!)\nBall all around in my flip flop, you think TIP soft? Well then why don\u2019t you try me\nIf you really gon' be dramatic, we gon' to need some music, they queuein' the violin\nI'm talking slow singing, flower bringing\nEmpty a clip in you earing, and you chest thing, and you out the door\nThis flooded rollie make you feel some type of way (I know it do!)\nYour ho be on me, know you feel some type of way (I take your ho!)\nThe car I\u2019m driving make you feel some type of way (They can\u2019t afford this nigga!)\nThe cash I get it make you feel some type of way (Bankrolls-R-Us!)"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsTurn On the Lights Lyrics\nRemix\nWe fall asleep naked, we wake up naked\nYou know what that means, pussy for breakfast\nAnd I know how she likes it, I'm a psychic\nI eat it then I go back to sleep, that's that \"itis\"\nAnd she be by herself she a loner\nTrukfit, I'm the owner\nI make her moan, call her Mona\nI'd have a threesome if they cloned her\nAnd me I'm purple kush forever\nI'm purple drank forever\nThat dick make her feel retarded\nShe say I make her feel special\nWhen I ain't thinking 'bout them other hoes\nEver since you put that pussy on me\nI told her put that pussy on me right\nAnd I'mma change your life\nAnd don't sit on top of this dick if you're scared of heights\n\nAnd shawty be like\nThis pussy for you\nI ask her is it true? And she say like a horseshoe\nShe got that nigga name covered that's a war wound\nShe lay me on my back and ride this dick like \"vroom\"\nThen I turn on the lights, yeah\nAnd look in her eyes\nGirl that pussy too tight\nYou need a pussy massage\nShe got a body like a mermaid\nShe a plus, first aid\nThey ask me what\u2019s her race and I say first place\nTunechi\nTell her I skate\nAnd shawty down to earth but bitch I need my space\nAnd she gon' ride this dick, I had a long day\nShe say cum anywhere you want, I give her Santa Clause face\nWe gon' turn up tonight\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nThat pussy feel new\nBut we been fucking way before I went to Rikers Island\nAnd now she got a man I think he gayer than a stylist\nI wish we were both single like a couple dollars\nAnd when we get together she be on that Miley Cyrus\nSo we eat each other up, like some Somalians\nShe know I got a girl but she keep this shit a thousand\nWhenever we together she don't ever ask about her\n\nShe just be like\nThis pussy for you\nI say come and eat this bone and stop eating dog food\nAnd she got that nigga name covered that's a war wound\nAnd she lay me on my back and then she blow me like boom\nThen I turn on the lights, yeah\nThen look in her eyes\nGirl that pussy too tight, you need a pussy massage\nShe got a body like a mermaid, she a plus, first aid\nI put her in her place and that's first place\nTunechi\nTell her I skate\nI ain't got no worries, no Frank Ocean I'm straight\nTunechi, tell 'em I'm straight\nTunechi\nHaaa"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsYou Song Lyrics\n\nShout to Chi-Town!\nDedication 5!\nSince '05!\nKnow that!\nYou feel like Kool-Aid in a wine glass with your fine ass\nYou fine as two grapes gettin' stomped out by a giant cask\nYou the best dressed with your breasts showing\nLike a salad, no dressing, take you to your favorite restaurant\nAsk for the bread, then fuck in the restroom\nThey don't ask for a pass when your ass waltz in my dress room\nYou the best bride and I'm the best groom\nWedding presents got my best man at the Best Buy\nBuyin' the Best of Fresh Prince for the bedroom\nAnd I'ma buy a summer house, with a rec room\nAnd a car with no backseat and some leg room\nAnd some strawberries and some chocolate\nAnd a fridge and some broccoli\n'Cause I know you like vegetables even though I don't\nI won't say I won't eat it if you chef it\nFuck it, I'll hire Geoffrey to get a beverage if you should ever get parched\nYou feel like Ruby Dee to me, great and powerful Ossie\nWho's behind the man behind the curtain? Foxy, coffee\nBrown as the bosom I flew in on\nNose round like the wheels that my rims spin on\nLips full like the light on the dash was flickin', oh wait, it wasn't\nOh, and I forgot, I'll take a microwave or oven\nSo we could kick the butler out and we can make a muffin\nMaybe bake a dozen\nMy homeboy like your sister, maybe they can bake some cousins\nOoh, isn't that sweet?\nYou feel like Kool-Aid in a wine glass\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nThis is not a love song, this is a you song\nI just happen to love you\nThis is not a love song, this is a you song\nI just happen to love you\nThis is not a love song, this is a you song\nI just happen to love you\nThis is not a love song, this is a you song\nI just happen to love you\n\nGive you the world if it was for me\nMy diamond grill make it hard to see, I'm lying through my teeth\nAnd now I'm flying on my PJ, looking at the clouds\nThinking about yo ass and how it look like a big smile\nI get mental flashbacks of your ass crack, lemme get back on track\nYou say I act like I don't miss you, that's because I don't act\nBut anyway, we can role-play or get straight to it\nSorry, my mind in the gutter\u2014better yet, sewer\nAnd when you say I love you, I stutter, \"I-I love you too\"\nIt's Wayne's world, she say, \"What is this world coming to?\"\nAnd she know me and whoever together, she hope we comin' loose\nShe told me that if she ain't the one, she gon' throw up the deuce\nI laughed at her, we took a bath together and splashed each other\nThen she got serious and said, \"Tune I gotta ask you something\nDo you really love me?\" I tried to change the subject\nSo I said some crazy shit to her like\n\"What if you and I were just letters?\nThat'd be unfortunate, we'd have to rob a fortune teller\nBut I swear, I think I love you, fingers crossed in my pocket\nOkay, that's a dead subject, you bring it up, that's a zombie\nYou remind me of... my memory ain't what it used to be\"\nShe said she ain't trippin', I know, because I move my feet\nAnd when she figure out that she been swindled\nI'll be cleaning that love bird shit off of my window\nI-I love you too...\nThis is not a love song, this is a you song\nI just happen to love you\nThis is not a love song, this is a you song\nI just happen to love you\nThis is not a love song, this is a you song\nI just happen to love you\nThis is not a love song, this is a you song\nI just happen to love you\n\nI mean how many times\nHow many times I gotta\nHow many times I gotta say it for it to count?\nAre you counting?\nI loved the pictures\nI needed that, I swear I did\nI was just thinking about you when you sent them too\nYou don't believe me? I know\nD5, what up 5?\nI-I love you too...I do"}
{"text":"I ain't lookin' back, nigga\nI'm a douchebag to these pussy ass niggas\nHammer in my drawers but I nail your bitch\nBlunts like fingers, I'm 'bout to make a fist\nEverybody die, gon' bury me alive\nGrab life by the horns, put the bullshit aside\nGlock clip full like the moon in the sky\nI'm at the gas station adding fuel to the fire\nLife ain't shit but bitches and money\nI pass that weed, like I studied\nBury me in fire and watch me phoenix\nHighway to Heaven, I'm taking the scenic\nYou tied to the track of my train of thoughts\nAnd controlling my thoughts is like taming sharks\nAnd these hoes wanna kick it with me, I'm a sensei\nAnd I got fat pockets, you niggas in shape\nTools on deck, tattoos on necks\nLife is a bitch, I'll make her your ex\nBetter turn to God 'fore I turn to Godzilla\nHow the fuck you gon' talk shit to diarrhea\nMotherfucker it's on, I'm just rubbing 'em wrong\nPut a bug in my ear, but not in my phone\nI'll have a broke motherfucker run in your home\nFor a crumb and a bone\nAnd put \u2014\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nOne in ya dome\nOne in ya dome, one in ya dome\nOne in ya dome, one in ya dome\nOne in ya dome, one in ya dome\nOne in ya dome, one in ya dome\nEmpty stomach, full clip\nI'm gon' get it, gon' get it\nEmpty stomach, full clip\nI'm gon' get it, gon' get it\nMy trigger finger itchin', my trigger finger itchin'\nMy trigger finger itchin', my trigger finger itchin'\nMy trigger finger itching, nigga\n\nI don't like to dream about gettin' paid\nYou ain't gon hurt nobody like Kid 'n Play\nAin't nothin' sweet but the codeine, nigga\nEyes hella red like chlorine in 'em\nI was gettin' that pussy, I was gettin' that money\nLong hair, don't care, Hacksaw Jim Duggan\nToo high to take a breath, too high to take a step\nTwo rights don't make a wrong, three rights make a left\nThe cops on my dick, the feds on my nerves\nI walk it like I talk it, got legs on my words\nIf she don't suck dick I don't give her that dick\nGot the world in my hands, I'mma dribble that bitch\nMoney is the issue, full court pressure\nI like my blunt Nutty Professor\nI'm a straight rider with a getaway driver\nHit you dead on the money, now you dead on arrival\nI don't fuck with these niggas, too old for new friends\nBut never too rich for new money\nThese niggas buying Haterade by the twelve pack\nLike two stomachs\nI'm laced up like two shoes, Miss Goody\nKeep that ratchet, nigga\nTrigger finger itchin', I'll scratch it, nigga\nBlow your fuckin' brains out in traffic, nigga\nGot green, New Orleans, St. Patrick, nigga\nOne bitch in the whip, one on the phone\nThe one on the phone is in front of your home\nShe 'bout to run in your home and put \u2014\nOne in ya dome, one in ya dome\nOne in ya dome, one in ya dome\nOne in ya dome, one in ya dome\nOne in ya dome, one in ya dome\nEmpty stomach, full clip\nI'm gon' get it, gon' get it\nEmpty stomach, full clip\nI'm gon' get it, gon' get it\nMy trigger finger itchin', my trigger finger itchin'\nMy trigger finger itchin', my trigger finger itchin'\nMy trigger finger itchin'\nNigga\n\nRest in peace to the game 'cause I'm fresh to death\nRest in peace to the game, tell them kill they self\nMake your death wish, 'cause I'm too fresh\n'Cause I'm fresh to death, 'cause I'm fresh to death\nYou go broke tryna get fresh like this\nRest in peace to the game 'cause I killed it\nI'm fresh to death, I'm fresh to death\nWhat you talkin', I came out a coffin\nYeah\n\nI just can't see myself\nLiving in a house of mirrors\nI bought me a double-R\n'Cause I went from rags to riches\nAnd these niggas nag like bitches\nActin' like little fags like Richard\nAnd all of my bitches be bad as vision\nYou got a problem\nI can fix it like a mathematician\nI am-munition\nCall me ammo for short\nTrukfit shirt, camo the shorts\nYour girl is a freak, your man is a narc\nWith your son in your arms\nI'll put \u2014\nOne in your dome\nTunechi"}
{"text":"Sleeping at the top, nightmares of the bottom\nEverybody wanna be fly until you swat \u2018em\nBut who am I to talk? I ain\u2019t shittin' roses\nWe in the same picture but we all got different poses\nNow I\u2019m looking in my rear view, I see the world in it\nI try to slow down, and I get rear-ended\nPause, like a red light, I\u2019m dead right\nHighway to Heaven, God, do you see my headlights?\nThey say you don\u2019t know what you\u2019re doing 'til you stop doing it\nWell, call me clueless 'cause I do this\nAttention all shooters: I\u2019m a shooting star\nLife is a course, and I'ma shoot for par\nSearching for today, instead I found tomorrow\nAnd I put that shit right back, man, I\u2019ll see what I find tomorrow\nYoung Money, CMR, Blood like a scar\nWeezy F. Baby and the \"F\" ain't for \"Flaw\"\n\nUh, uh\nYep, yep\nYep, yep\n\nIt's like I have it all, but I don't have to worry\nMarried to the money, a true love story\nOnly God can judge me, I don't need a jury\nNothing standing in my way like nothing's my security\nBack to my journey, that bullshit don't concern me\nIf I knew I was going to jail, I would have fucked my attorney\nIf you sleeping on me, nigga, then I hope you toss and turnin'\nI'm so cold I'm hypothermic, ask your bitch, she will confirm it, yeah\nNow what we doin' with it?\nKeep opening your grill, I'm barbecuin' with it\nI know my shit already tight so I ain't screwin' with it\nSome say this game is a joke, well I hope they get it\nOkay, I'm walking on needles, sticking to the point\nYeah, the streets is talking, I'm familiar with the voice\nI'm a gangsta by choice, I hope my sons choose wiser\nAnd don't call me \"Sir,\" call me \"Survivor\"\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nUh, yeah\nUh, haha\nAnd they go \"yep, yep\"\nYep, yep\n\nUh, call me \"Killer\" 'cause I make a killin'\nI got this shit wrapped up, bow and a ribbon\nThat's them twin Glocks, you can call them siblings\nAnd them bullets travel, better hope I keep dribblin'\nI touch the sky, get the clouds out my fingernails\nThese bitches think they fly like Tinkerbell\nBut they all on my wire like Stringer Bell\nI let them be, 'cause you know how the sting\u2019ll feel\nKnow how to whip that white girl, I can spank her tail\nAnd I fuck up any track: train derail\nKnow how to roll, never need training wheels\nAnd when the truth hurts, I pop pain pills\nUh, all or nothing or nothing else\nI bleed reality, I should cut myself\nJust had a bowl of riches, and a cup of wealth\nAnd the \"F\" is for \"Fuck yourself\"\n\nUhh, yeah\nAnd I ain\u2019t doing nothing but getting my share, breathin' this air\nAnd Mack moms told me she gon' keep me in her prayers\nSo I\u2019m feeling alright, I\u2019m tryna stay aware\nAnd if you wanna trip, then I'ma meet you there\nTo my niggas in the game, keep the game fair\nPlayers play, coaches coach, and cheerleaders cheer\nI\u2019m trying to keep spirit when the ghost disappear\nWeezy F. Baby and the \"F\" ain\u2019t for \"Fear,\" uh"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsRide for My Niggas (Sky is the Limit) Lyrics\nAhem\nWeezy F\nYoung Money, Cash Money\nThis is Da Drought 3, ladies and gentlemen\nAnd you know me\nLet's go\n\nYou know I ride for my motherfucking niggas\nMost likely, I'ma die with my finger on the trigger\nThey tell me, \"Don't get high\" and I should try to make a living\nI tell 'em I'm a hustler, and I'd rather make a killing\n\nMy eyes get so wide as it rise in the skillet\nI let my bitch bag it; if she steal it, I'ma kill her\nI bulletproof the ride, now I feel like armadillos\nAnd fuck your hospital \u2014 Young Money, we the illest\nAnd I ain't gotta lie when I tell you I'm the illest\nMy flow is nasty, like C-Y-philis\nSelf-made G, and them bitches know the business\nRelying on rap, but in the kitchen I'm a chemist\nAnd when I was five my favorite movie was The Gremlins\nAin't got shit to do with this, but I just thought that I should mention\nYou looking for divine and a lil' intervention\nAnd them birds don't fly without my permission\nI'm probably in the sky, flying with the fishes\nOr maybe in the ocean, swimming with the pigeons\nSee, my world is different, like Dwayne Wayne\nAnd if you want trouble, bitch, I want the same thing\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nAnd you know that I\u2019ma ride with my motherfucking niggas\nMost likely, I'ma die with my finger on the trigger\nDon\u2019t worry 'bout mine, I'ma grind 'til I get it\nAnd tell all of my niggas that the sky is the limit\nThe sky is the limit\nThe sky is the limit\nAnd tell all of my niggas that the sky is the limit\n\u2018Cause the sky is the limit\nThe sky is the limit\nAnd if you look high, you'll see that I\u2019m gon' be in it\nThe sky is the limit (Errrrrrrr!)\n\nBuck-ten in the coupe, and your bitch love it\nSwitching lanes faster than she switch subjects\nTell a bitch, \"Don't talk to me\nAnd if you're talking to them niggas, don't talk for free\"\nAnd I hate when a nigga say, \"Talk is cheap\"\n'Cause I'm the type that let money talk for me, yeah\nMy flow is art \u2014 unique, yeah\nMy flow can part a sea\nThe only thing on a mind of a shark is \"Eat\"\nBy any means, and you just sardines\nI got the 40-cal. tucked in my P-R-Ps\nWhat do you expect? I'm from New Orleans\nThe majority of my city is riders\nThey tried to make a brand-new map without us\nBut the tourists come down and spend too many dollars\nAnd no matter how you change it, it'll still be ours\nAnd I'ma ride with my motherfucking niggas\nMost likely, I'ma die with my finger on the trigger\nDon't worry 'bout mine, I'ma grind 'til I get it\nAnd tell all of my niggas that the sky is the limit\nThe sky is the limit\nThe sky is the limit\nAnd I'ma tell all of my niggas that the sky is the limit\nBecause the sky is the limit\nYeah, the sky is the limit\nAnd if you look up high, you'll see that I'm gon' be in it\n'Cause the sky is the limit\n\nAnd you don't want to fuck with a soldier\nUse your head or I'll take it off your shoulder\nRun up in your house and shoot everyone that's sitting\nOn the living room sofa \u2014 that's fucked up, haha\nAnd you don't want to fuck with a soldier\nUse your head or I'll take it off your shoulder\nMail it to your Moms with a dozen of roses\nHaha, now that's fucked up\nAnd I'm a G\nAnd you ain't got to know the alphabets to see\nI know my whole city is depending on me\nAnd I forget a lot of shit, but I cannot forget the streets\nSo you know that I'ma ride with my motherfucking niggas\nMost likely, I'ma die with my finger on the trigger\nDon't worry 'bout mine, I'ma grind 'til I get it\nAnd tell all of my niggas that the sky is the limit\nThe sky is the limit\nDon't worry about mine, I'ma grind 'til I get it\nAnd tell all of my niggas that the sky is the limit\nBecause the sky is the limit\nYeah, the sky is the limit\nAnd if you look high, you'll see that I'm gon' be in it\n'Cause the sky is the limit\nThey tell me, \"Don't get high\" and I should try to make a living\nI tell 'em I'm a hustler, and I'd rather make a killing\n'Cause the sky is the limit\nHands up in the air, because the sky is the limit\nCan you see me up there? The sky is the limit\nThe sky is the limit\nIf you don't remember nothing, man, the sky is the limit"}
{"text":"Yessir!\nThey can't stop me\nEven if they stopped me...\nHahahah, yeah\n\nI'm on it, ooh, I'm on it\nI'm so on it, and however you want it\nYou can get it tonight ho, and all night ho\nI get the beat from (Maestro), a-fuckin' right, ho!\n\nI might go crazy on these niggas, I don't give a motherfuck\nRun up in a nigga house and shoot his grandmother up\nWhat! What! I don't give a motherfuck\nGet your baby kidnapped and your baby-mother fucked\nIt's Tha Carter 3, bitch, better put your supper up\nHollygrove, I throw it up like I'm trying to lose my gut\nFuck is up? Beat him up like a million uppercuts\nGot a million duffled up for the fuck of it, shit\nGet on my level? You can't get on my level\nYou gon' need a space shuttle or a ladder that's forever\nHowever, I'm better, if not now, then never\nDon't you ever fix your lips unless you 'bout to suck my dick\nBitch, swallow my words, taste my thoughts\nAnd if it's too nasty, spit it back at me\nTwo more inches, I'd have been in that casket\nAccording to the doctor, I could've died in traffic\nBounce right back on them bitches, like Magic\nAbracadabra, I'm up, like Viagra\nI just do this shit for my clique, like Adam Sandler\nI control hip-hop, and I'ma keep it on my channel\nWatch me! Bitch, watch me! Bitch, watch me!\nBut they cannot-see me, like Hitler\nIt's the New Orleans nightmare\nMoney so old, it's growing white hair\nYoung Money, baby! Yeah, we right here\nI'ma make sure we ball 'til we fall like tears\nAnd mama, don't cry, your son can handle his\nI got her out the hood and put up in the hills, yeah\nWhen I was fourteen, I told my mom we would see better days\nAnd sure enough, I got Miss Cita in a better place\nWhen I was fourteen, I told my mom we would see better days\nAnd sure enough, we did exactly what I said\nI tell my girl, \"When you fuck me, better fuck me good\n'Cause if another girl could, she gon' fuck me good\"\nNo sitting at the table if you bringing nothing to it\nAnd I get straight to it like it's nothing to it\nYeah, I got game like Stuart\nScott, fresh out the ESPN shop\nAnd when SportsCenter poppin', everything stoppin'\nBut you can't fool me, I know what you watchin'\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nMe! You watch me!\nYou watch me! 'Cause I be\nWeezy, must-see TV, C3\nNigga, that's me, and I'm me\nI'm me, times three\nSo retreat, or suffer defeat\nI'm back, 3-Peat!\nC3!"}
{"text":"Ah-em\n\nSometimes I feel like I ain't shit\nSometimes a nigga feel like shit\nTalkin\u2019 'bout some real life shit\nGoodbye letter, \"Dear Life\" shit\nSo if a nigga kill me, hope he mean it\nI just hope I die for a reason\nThey probably won't miss me \u2019til they need me\nHave problems with admittin' that they need me, Lord\nI'm talkin' 'bout some real life shit\nGoodbye letter, \"Dear Life\" shit\nWay too concerned to be conceited\nI live and I learn, then die tryna teach 'em, Lord\nDie tryna reach 'em\nThey care more about how much I leave than\nWhere I leave it\nI hope I leave more of an impression on my kids\nTo be destined to have blessings to believe in, Lord\nJust got off the phone with my son\nTold him, \"You're a son of a gun\"\nJust got off the phone with my daughter\nTold her, \"I won\u2019t hesitate to fuck a young nigga up\", Lord\nA few bitches left me, that only got a new bitch elected\nMy old bitch was too disrespectful\nAnd only get my new bitch respected\nThat\u2019s power, yes, it's now or next\nCan\u2019t lie though, I tried though\nI'll die tryin', that's a common death\nWe was such a team, we was chasin\u2019 our dreams\nThen it stopped, now I'm outta breath\nNow they try to tell me I need rest\nAnd I'll find love again, I ain't find it yet\nOh, but I guess it is what it is as it appears, oh shit\nThe object in the mirror is more near than it appears, oh shit\nAnd sometimes I fear who in the mirror, that nigga weird\nHe done died so many times but still here, why am I here?\nSee Lil Wayne LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nDear Life\nWhat is my meaning? My reason?\n\nNaked bitches really love ones\nSometimes our loved ones don't love us\nI'm fuckin' more than I'm makin' love\nSometimes I make my rubber wear a rubber\nI just tell my lady, \"Nothing's easy\"\nEven though I make it look easy\nBut understand looks are deceiving\nLookin' like I'm lookin' for some grievance\n'Cause I been through way too much, don't wanna think about it\nCranky 'bout it, gotta drink about it\nGotta synchronize it, tranquilize it\nDoctor ain't prescribin' what he ain't realizin'\nPain inside me got me thinkin' 'bout me\nTryna hang my body, sanctifyin'\nI'm a gangsta dyin' 'cause all gangsters die\nI can't deny it, you can't tame my lion\nI'm a angry lion hangin' by a string, I can't describe it\nFeel like a anchor tied to my finger\nGot me sinkin' to the bottom of my drink\nI know a lotta niggas think I got a lotta niggas\nThere's strength in numbers but it's honor over strength\nI talked to God the other day, he say he got a nigga\nSo, I look death up in her eye and then I wink\nIt's way too real, the shit I'm talkin' way, way too real\nI hope it gave you chills\nThe dirt under your feet could be the grave you fill\nYou don't know how dead you feel 'til you're dead for real\nGettin' high after I paid the bill, lower than a Navy SEAL\nShow up with them Navy guns, I hope somebody prayin' for 'em\nPrice tags no mistakes, somebody payin' for 'em\nIce bath when my face numb, no expression\nWhat's the life expectancy when you don't expect shit?\nMama told me, \"Fuck the world and be so aggressive\nBe self-fluorescent, watch these hoes 'cause they so obsessive\nDon't get too high to look over blessings\nNever come in second, make the most of your seconds\nThey so precious\"\n'Cause if we could buy time, every store would sell it\nIf you want me to read your mind, need correct spelling\nI keep it real, niggas better keep it copacetic\nWhere the weed? I feel like I'm gettin' a sober headache\nLookin' in the mirror at the one that know me better\nI was too busy to talk, I wrote an open letter\nDear Life\nWhat is my meaning? My reason?\nThat's the question I ask the reader, God bless the reader\nDear Life, what is my meaning? My reason?\nThat's the question\n\nYou know, when he told me Toya was havin' a baby, I say, \"Y'all young. You know y'all young.\" But I said, \"Be the best father you can be,\" you know. And truly, he is that."}
{"text":"1926 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishPortugu\u00easItaliano\u0939\u093f\u0928\u094d\u0926\u0940DeutschFran\u00e7aisEspa\u00f1olCymraeg\u0e44\u0e17\u0e22 \/ Phasa ThaiRap God Lyrics\n\"Look, I was gonna go easy on you not to hurt your feelings\"\n\"But I'm only going to get this one chance\" (Six minutes\u2014, six minutes\u2014)\n\"Something's wrong, I can feel it\" (Six minutes, Slim Shady, you're on!)\n\"Just a feeling I've got, like something's about to happen, but I don't know what.\u00a0\nIf that means what I think it means, we're in trouble, big trouble;\u00a0\nAnd if he is as bananas as you say, I'm not taking any chances\"\n\"You are just what the doc ordered\"\n\nI'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God\nAll my people from the front to the back nod, back nod\nNow, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?\nThey said I rap like a robot, so call me Rap-bot\nBut for me to rap like a computer it must be in my genes\nI got a laptop in my back pocket\nMy pen'll go off when I half-cock it\nGot a fat knot from that rap profit\nMade a livin' and a killin' off it\nEver since Bill Clinton was still in office\nWith Monica Lewinsky feelin' on his nutsack\nI'm an MC still as honest\nBut as rude and as indecent as all hell\nSyllables, skill-a-holic (Kill 'em all with)\nThis flippity dippity-hippity hip-hop\nYou don't really wanna get into a pissin' match\nWith this rappity brat, packin' a MAC in the back of the Ac'\nBackpack rap crap, yap-yap, yackety-yack\nAnd at the exact same time, I attempt these lyrical acrobat stunts while I'm practicin' that\nI'll still be able to break a motherfuckin' table\nOver the back of a couple of faggots and crack it in half\nOnly realized it was ironic, I was signed to Aftermath after the fact\nHow could I not blow? All I do is drop F-bombs\nFeel my wrath of attack\nRappers are havin' a rough time period, here's a maxi pad\nIt's actually disastrously bad for the wack\nWhile I'm masterfully constructing this masterpi\u00e8ce\nYou might also like\n'Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God\nAll my people from the front to the back nod, back nod\nNow, who thinks their arms are long enough to slap box, slap box?\nLet me show you maintainin' this shit ain't that hard, that hard\nEverybody want the key and the secret to rap immortality like \u0399 have got\n\nWell, to be truthful the blueprint's\nSimply rage and youthful exuberance\nEverybody loves to root for a nuisance\nHit the Earth like an asteroid\nDid nothing but shoot for the Moon since (Pew!)\nMCs get taken to school with this music\n'Cause I use it as a vehicle to \"bus the rhyme\"\nNow I lead a new school full of students\nMe? I'm a product of Rakim\nLakim Shabazz, 2Pac, N.W.A, Cube, hey Doc, Ren\nYella, Eazy, thank you, they got Slim\nInspired enough to one day grow up, blow up and be in a position\nTo meet Run\u2013D.M.C., and induct them\nInto the motherfuckin' Rock and Roll Hall of Fame\nEven though I'll walk in the church and burst in a ball of flames\nOnly Hall of Fame I'll be inducted in is the alcohol of fame\nOn the wall of shame\nYou fags think it's all a game, 'til I walk a flock of flames\nOff a plank and, tell me what in the fuck are you thinkin'?\nLittle gay-lookin' boy\nSo gay I can barely say it with a straight face, lookin' boy (Ha-ha!)\nYou're witnessin' a mass-occur\nLike you're watching a church gathering take place, lookin' boy\n\"Oy vey, that boy's gay!\"\u2014that's all they say, lookin' boy\nYou get a thumbs up, pat on the back\nAnd a \"way to go\" from your label every day, lookin' boy\nHey, lookin' boy! What you say, lookin' boy?\nI get a \"hell yeah\" from Dre, lookin' boy\nI'ma work for everything I have, never asked nobody for shit\nGet outta my face, lookin' boy!\nBasically, boy, you're never gonna be capable\nOf keepin' up with the same pace, lookin' boy, 'cause\u2014\nI'm beginnin' to feel like a Rap God, Rap God\nAll my people from the front to the back nod, back nod\nThe way I'm racin' around the track, call me NASCAR, NASCAR\nDale Earnhardt of the trailer park, the White Trash God\nKneel before General Zod\nThis planet's Krypton\u2014no, Asgard, Asgard\n\nSo you'll be Thor and I'll be Odin\nYou rodent, I'm omnipotent\nLet off, then I'm reloadin'\nImmediately with these bombs I'm totin'\nAnd I should not be woken\nI'm the walkin' dead, but I'm just a talkin' head, a zombie floatin'\nBut I got your mom deep-throatin'\nI'm out my Ramen Noodle\nWe have nothin' in common, poodle\nI'm a Doberman, pinch yourself in the arm and pay homage, pupil\nIt's me, my honesty's brutal\nBut it's honestly futile if I don't utilize what I do though\nFor good at least once in a while\nSo I wanna make sure somewhere in this chicken scratch I scribble and doodle enough rhymes\nTo maybe try to help get some people through tough times\nBut I gotta keep a few punchlines\nJust in case 'cause even you unsigned\nRappers are hungry lookin' at me like it's lunchtime\nI know there was a time where once I\nWas king of the underground\nBut I still rap like I'm on my Pharoahe Monch grind\nSo I crunch rhymes, but sometimes when you combine\nAppeal with the skin color of mine\nYou get too big and here they come tryin'\nTo censor you like that one line\nI said on \"I'm Back\" from The Mathers LP 1 when I\nTried to say I'll take seven kids from Columbine\nPut 'em all in a line, add an AK-47, a revolver and a 9\nSee if I get away with it now that I ain't as big as I was, but I'm\nMorphin' into an immortal, comin' through the portal\nYou're stuck in a time warp from 2004 though\nAnd I don't know what the fuck that you rhyme for\nYou're pointless as Rapunzel with fuckin' cornrows\nYou write normal? Fuck being normal!\nAnd I just bought a new raygun from the future\nJust to come and shoot ya, like when Fabolous made Ray J mad\n'Cause Fab said he looked like a fag at Mayweather's pad\nSingin' to a man while he played piano\nMan, oh man, that was a 24\/7 special on the cable channel\nSo Ray J went straight to the radio station\nThe very next day, \"Hey Fab, I'ma kill you!\"\nLyrics comin' at you at supersonic speed (J.J. Fad)\nUh, summa-lumma, dooma-lumma, you assumin' I'm a human\nWhat I gotta do to get it through to you? I'm superhuman\nInnovative and I'm made of rubber so that anything you say is ricochetin' off of me and it'll glue to you and\nI'm devastating, more than ever demonstrating\nHow to give a motherfuckin' audience a feeling like it's levitating\nNever fading, and I know the haters are forever waiting\nFor the day that they can say I fell off, they'll be celebrating\n'Cause I know the way to get 'em motivated\nI make elevating music, you make elevator music\n\"Oh, he's too mainstream.\"\nWell, that's what they do when they get jealous, they confuse it\n\"It's not hip-hop, it's pop,\"\u2014'cause I found a hella way to fuse it\nWith rock, shock rap with Doc\nThrow on \"Lose Yourself\" and make 'em lose it\n\"I don't know how to make songs like that\nI don't know what words to use.\"\nLet me know when it occurs to you\nWhile I'm rippin' any one of these verses that versus you\nIt's curtains, I'm inadvertently hurtin' you\nHow many verses I gotta murder to\nProve that if you were half as nice, your songs you could sacrifice virgins too?!\nUgh, school flunky, pill junkie\nBut look at the accolades these skills brung me\nFull of myself, but still hungry\nI bully myself 'cause I make me do what I put my mind to\nAnd I'm a million leagues above you\nIll when I speak in tongues, but it's still tongue-in-cheek, fuck you\nI'm drunk, so, Satan, take the fucking wheel\nI'ma sleep in the front seat\nBumpin' Heavy D and the Boyz, still \"Chunky but Funky\"\nBut in my head there's something I can feel tugging and struggling\nAngels fight with devils and here's what they want from me\nThey're askin' me to eliminate some of the women hate\nBut if you take into consideration the bitter hatred\nI have, then you may be a little patient\nAnd more sympathetic to the situation\nAnd understand the discrimination\nBut fuck it, life's handin' you lemons? Make lemonade then!\nBut if I can't batter the women\nHow the fuck am I supposed to bake 'em a cake then?\nDon't mistake him for Satan\nIt's a fatal mistake if you think I need to be overseas and take a vacation\nTo trip a broad, and make her fall on her face and\nDon't be a retard\u2014be a king? Think not\nWhy be a king when you can be a god?6.8KEmbed"}
{"text":"Look, if you had one shot or one opportunity\nTo seize everything you ever wanted in one moment\nWould you capture it or just let it slip?\nYo\n\nHis palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy\nThere's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti\nHe's nervous, but on the surface, he looks calm and ready\nTo drop bombs, but he keeps on forgetting\nWhat he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud\nHe opens his mouth, but the words won't come out\nHe's chokin', how? Everybody's jokin' now\nThe clock's run out, time's up, over, blaow\nSnap back to reality, ope, there goes gravity\nOpe, there goes Rabbit, he choked, he's so mad\nBut he won't give up that easy, no, he won't have it\nHe knows his whole back's to these ropes, it don't matter\nHe's dope, he knows that, but he's broke, he's so stagnant\nHe knows when he goes back to this mobile home, that's when it's\nBack to the lab again, yo, this old rhapsody\nBetter go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him\n\nYou better lose yourself in the music\nThe moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go)\nYou only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow\nThis opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo\nYou better lose yourself in the music\nThe moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go)\nYou only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow\nThis opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo\nYou better\nYou might also like\nHis soul's escaping through this hole that is gaping\nThis world is mine for the taking, make me king\nAs we move toward a new world order\nA normal life is boring, but superstardom's\nClose to post-mortem, it only grows harder\nHomie grows hotter, he blows, it's all over\nThese hoes is all on him, coast-to-coast shows\nHe's known as the Globetrotter, lonely roads\nGod only knows he's grown farther from home, he's no father\nHe goes home and barely knows his own daughter\nBut hold your nose 'cause here goes the cold water\nThese hoes don't want him no mo', he's cold product\nThey moved on to the next schmoe who flows\nHe nose-dove and sold nada, and so the soap opera\nIs told, it unfolds, I suppose it's old, partner\nBut the beat goes on, da-da-dom, da-dom, dah-dah-dah-dah\n\nYou better lose yourself in the music\nThe moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go)\nYou only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow\nThis opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo\nYou better lose yourself in the music\nThe moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go)\nYou only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow\nThis opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo\nYou better\nNo more games, I'ma change what you call rage\nTear this motherfuckin' roof off like two dogs caged\nI was playin' in the beginning, the mood all changed\nI've been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage\nBut I kept rhymin' and stepped right in the next cypher\nBest believe somebody's payin' the Pied Piper\nAll the pain inside amplified by the\nFact that I can't get by with my nine-to-\nFive and I can't provide the right type of life for my family\n'Cause, man, these goddamn food stamps don't buy diapers\nAnd there's no movie, there's no Mekhi Phifer, this is my life\nAnd these times are so hard, and it's gettin' even harder\nTryna feed and water my seed, plus teeter-totter\nCaught up between bein' a father and a prima donna\nBaby-mama drama, screamin' on her, too much for me to wanna\nStay in one spot, another day of monotony's gotten me\nTo the point I'm like a snail, I've got\nTo formulate a plot or end up in jail or shot\nSuccess is my only motherfuckin' option, failure's not\nMom, I love you, but this trailer's got\nTo go, I cannot grow old in Salem's Lot\nSo here I go, it's my shot; feet, fail me not\nThis may be the only opportunity that I got\n\nYou better lose yourself in the music\nThe moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go)\nYou only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow\nThis opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo\nYou better lose yourself in the music\nThe moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go)\nYou only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow\nThis opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo\nYou better\nYou can do anything you set your mind to, man1.5KEmbed"}
{"text":"1513 ContributorsTranslationsDeutsch\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439T\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00easPolskiItalianoFran\u00e7aisNederlands\u4e2d\u6587Killshot Lyrics\nYou sound like a bitch, bitch\nShut the fuck up\nWhen your fans become your haters\nYou done?\nFuckin' beard's weird\nAlright\nYou yellin' at the mic, fuckin' weird beard (You want smoke)\nWe doin' this once\nYou yellin' at the mic, your beard's weird\nWhy you yell at the mic? (Illa)\n\nRihanna just hit me on a text\nLast night I left hickeys on her neck\nWait, you just dissed me? I'm perplexed\nInsult me in a line, compliment me on the next\nDamn, I'm really sorry you want me to have a heart attack\nWas watchin' 8 Mile on my NordicTrack\nRealized I forgot to call you back\nHere's that autograph for your daughter, I wrote it on a Starter cap\nStan, Stan, son\nListen, man, Dad isn't mad\nBut how you gonna name yourself after a damn gun\nAnd have a man-bun?\nThe giant's woke, eyes open, undeniable\nSupplyin' smoke, got the fire stoked\nSay you got me in a scope, but you grazed me\nI say one call to Interscope and you're Swayze\nYour reply got the crowd yelling, \"Woo!\"\nSo before you die let's see who can out-petty who\nWith your corny lines (\"Slim, you're old\")\u2014ow, Kelly, ooh\nBut I'm 45 and I'm still outselling you\nBy 29, I had three albums that had blew\nNow let's talk about somethin' I don't really do\nGo in someone's daughter's mouth stealin' food\nBut you're a fuckin' mole hill\nNow I'ma make a mountain out of you, woo!\nHo, chill, actin' like you put the chrome barrel to my bone marrow\nGunner? Bitch, you ain't a bow and arrow\nSay you'll run up on me like a phone bill, sprayin' lead (Brrt)\nPlayin' dead, that's the only time you hold still (Hold up)\nAre you eating cereal or oatmeal?\nWhat the fuck's in the bowl, milk? Wheaties or Cheerios?\n'Cause I'm takin' a shit in 'em, Kelly, I need reading material\n\u2026Dictionary\u2026\n\"Yo, Slim, your last four albums sucked\nGo back to Recovery,\" oh shoot, that was three albums ago\nWhat do you know? Oops\nKnow your facts before you come at me, lil' goof\nLuxury, oh, you broke, bitch? Yeah, I had enough money in '02\nTo burn it in front of you, ho\nYounger me? No, you the wack me, it's funny but so true\nI'd rather be 80-year-old me than 20-year-old you\n'Til I'm hitting old age\nStill can fill a whole page with a 10-year-old's rage\nGot more fans than you in your own city, lil' kiddy, go play\nFeel like I'm babysitting Lil Tay\nGot the Diddy okay so you spent your whole day\nShootin' a video just to fuckin' dig your own grave\nGot you at your own wake, I'm the billy goat\nYou ain't never made a list next to no Biggie, no Jay\nNext to Taylor Swift and that Iggy ho, you about to really blow\nKelly, they'll be putting your name\nNext to Ja, next to Benzino\u2014die, motherfucker!\nLike the last motherfucker sayin' Hailie in vain\nAlien brain, you Satanist (Yeah)\nMy biggest flops are your greatest hits\nThe game's mine again and ain't nothin' changed but the locks\nSo before I slay this bitch I, mwah, give Jade a kiss\nGotta wake up Labor Day to this (The fuck?)\nBein' rich-shamed by some prick usin' my name for clickbait\nIn a state of bliss 'cause I said his goddamn name\nNow I gotta cock back, aim\nYeah, bitch, pop Champagne to this! (Pop)\nIt's your moment\nThis is it, as big as you're gonna get, so enjoy it\nHad to give you a career to destroy it\nLethal injection\nGo to sleep six feet deep, I'll give you a B for the effort\nBut if I was three-foot-eleven\nYou'd look up to me, and for the record\nYou would suck a dick to fuckin' be me for a second\nLick a ballsack to get on my channel\nGive your life to be as solidified\nThis mothafuckin' shit is like Rambo when he's out of bullets\nSo what good is a fuckin' machine gun when it's outta ammo?\nHad enough of this tatted-up mumble rapper\nHow the fuck can him and I battle?\nHe'll have to fuck Kim in my flannel\nI'll give him my sandals\n'Cause he knows, long as I'm Shady he's gon' have to live in my shadow\nExhausting, letting off on my offspring\nLick a gun barrel, bitch, get off me!\nYou dance around it like a sombrero, we can all see\nYou're fuckin' salty\n'Cause Young Gerald's balls-deep inside of Halsey\nYour red sweater, your black leather\nYou dress better, I rap better\nThat a death threat or a love letter?\nLittle white toothpick\nThinks it's over a pic, I just don't like you, prick\nThanks for dissing me\nNow I had an excuse on the mic to write \"Not Alike\"\nBut really I don't care who's in the right\nBut you're losin' the fight you picked\nWho else want it? Kells\u2014attempt fails! Budden\u2014L's!\nFuckin' nails in these coffins as soft as Cottonelle\nKillshot, I will not fail, I'm with the Doc still\nBut this idiot's boss pops pills and tells him he's got skills\nBut, Kells, the day you put out a hit's the day Diddy admits\nThat he put the hit out that got Pac killed, ah!\nI'm sick of you bein' wack\nAnd still usin' that mothafuckin' Auto-Tune\nSo let's talk about it (Let's talk about it)\nI'm sick of your mumble rap mouth\nNeed to get the cock up out it\nBefore we can even talk about it (Talk about it)\nI'm sick of your blonde hair and earrings\nJust 'cause you look in the mirror and think\nThat you're Marshall Mathers (Marshall Mathers)\nDon't mean you are, and you're not about it\nSo just leave my dick in your mouth and keep my daughter out it\nYou might also like\nYou fuckin'\u2014oh\nAnd I'm just playin', Diddy\nYou know I love you1.8KEmbed"}
{"text":"Ugh, you're a monster\n\nI can swallow a bottle of alcohol and I'll feel like Godzilla\nBetter\u2005hit\u2005the deck like\u2005the card dealer\nMy whole squad's in\u2005here, walking around the party\nA cross between a zombie apocalypse and B-Bobby \"The\nBrain\" Heenan which is probably the\nSame reason I wrestle with mania\nShady's in this bitch, I'm posse'd up\nConsider it to cross me a costly mistake\nIf they sleepin' on me, the hoes better get insomnia\nADHD, Hydroxycut\nPass the Courvoisier (Hey, hey)\nIn AA with an AK, melee, finna set it like a playdate\nBetter vacate, retreat like a vacay, mayday (Ayy)\nThis beat is cray-cray, Ray J, H-A-H-A-H-A\nLaughing all the way to the bank, I spray flames\nThey cannot tame or placate the\n\nMonster\nYou get in my way, I'ma feed you to the monster (Yeah)\nI'm normal during the day, but at night, turn to a monster (Yeah)\nWhen the moon shines like Ice Road Truckers\nI look like a villain outta those blockbusters\nGodzilla, fire spitter, monster\nBlood on the dance floor, and on the Louis V carpet\nFire, Godzilla, fire, monster\nBlood on the dance floor, and on the Louis V carpet\nYou might also like\nI'm just a product of Slick Rick and Onyx, told 'em lick the balls\nHad 'em just appalled, did so many things that pissed 'em off\nIt's impossible to list 'em all\nAnd in the midst of all this\nI'm in a mental hospital with a crystal ball\nTryna see, will I still be like this tomorrow?\nRisperdal, voices whisper\nMy fist is balled back up against the wall, pencil drawn\nThis is just the song to go ballistic on\nYou just pulled a pistol on the guy with a missile launcher\nI'm just a Loch Ness, the mythological\nQuick to tell a bitch screw off like a fifth of vodka\nWhen you twist the top of the bottle, I'm a\n\nMonster\nYou get in my way, I'ma feed you to the monster (Yeah)\nI'm normal during the day, but at night, turn to a monster (Yeah)\nWhen the moon shines like Ice Road Truckers\nI look like a villain outta those blockbusters\nGodzilla, fire spitter, monster\nBlood on the dance floor, and on the Louis V carpet\nFire, Godzilla, fire, monster\nBlood on the dance floor, and on the Louis V carpet\nIf you never gave a damn (Ayy), raise your hand\n'Cause I'm about to set trip, vacation plans\nI'm on point like my index is, so all you will ever get is\nThe motherfuckin' finger (Finger), prostate exam ('Xam)\nHow can I have all these fans and perspire?\nLike a liar's pants, I'm on fire\nAnd I got no plans to retire and I'm still the man you admire\nThese chicks are spazzin' out, I only get more handsome and flyer\nI got 'em passin' out like what you do when you hand someone flyers\nAnd what goes around comes around just like the blades on the chainsaw\n'Cause I caught the flack, but my dollars stacked right off the bat like a baseball\nLike Kid Ink, bitch, I got them racks with so much ease that they call me Diddy\n'Cause I make bands and I call getting cheese a cakewalk (Cheesecake, yeah)\nBitch, I'm a player, I'm too motherfuckin' stingy for Cher\nWon't even lend you an ear, ain't even pretending to care\nBut I tell a bitch I'll marry her if she'll bury her\nFace in my genital area, the original Richard Ramirez\nCristhian Rivera, 'cause my lyrics never sit well\nSo they wanna give me the chair\nLike a paraplegic, and it's scary, call it Hari Kari\n'Cause e'ry Tom and Dick and Harry carry a Merriam motherfuckin' dictionary on 'em\nSwearing up and down they can spit, this shit's hilarious\nIt's time to put these bitches in the obituary column\nWe wouldn't see eye to eye with a staring problem\nGet the shaft like a steering column (Monster)\nTrigger happy, pack heat, but it's black ink\nEvil half of the Bad Meets\nEvil, that means take a back seat\nTake it back to Fat Beats with a maxi single\nLook at my rap sheet, what attracts these people\nIs my 'Gangsta Bitch' like Apache with a catchy jingle\nI stack chips, you barely got a half-eaten Cheeto\nFill 'em with the venom and eliminate 'em\nOther words, I Minute Maid 'em\nI don't wanna hurt 'em, but I did, I'm in a fit of rage\nI'm murderin' again, nobody will evade\nI'm finna kill 'em and dump all their fuckin' bodies in the lake\nObliterating everything, incinerate a renegade\nI'm here to make anybody who want it with the pen afraid\nBut don't nobody want it, but they're gonna get it anyway\n'Cause I'm beginnin' to feel like I'm mentally ill\nI'm Attila, kill or be killed, I'm a killer bee, the vanilla gorilla\nYou're bringin' the killer within me outta me\nYou don't wanna be the enemy of the demon who entered me\nAnd be on the receivin' end of me, what stupidity it'd be\nEvery bit of me's the epitome of a spitter\nWhen I'm in the vicinity, motherfucker, you better duck\nOr you finna be dead the minute you run into me\nA hundred percent of you is a fifth of a percent of me\nI'm 'bout to fuckin' finish you, bitch, I'm unfadable\nYou wanna battle, I'm available, I'm blowin' up like an inflatable\nI'm undebatable, I'm unavoidable, I'm unevadable\nI'm on the toilet bowl, I got a trailer full of money and I'm paid in full\nI'm not afraid to pull a\u2014\nMan, stop\nLook what I'm plannin', haha1.2KEmbed"}
{"text":"I'm friends with the monster that's under my bed\nGet along with the voices inside of my head\nYou're tryin' to save me, stop holdin' your breath\nAnd you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy\nI wanted the fame but not the cover of Newsweek\nOh well, guess beggars can't be choosey\nWanted to receive attention for my music\nWanted to be left alone in public, excuse me\nFor wantin' my cake, and eat it too, and wantin' it both ways\nFame made me a balloon 'cause my ego inflated\nWhen I blew, see, but it was confusing\n'Cause all I wanted to do's be the Bruce Lee of loose leaf\nAbused ink, used it as a tool when I blew steam\nWhoo! Hit the lottery, ooh-wee!\nBut with what I gave up to get it was bittersweet\nIt was like winnin' a used mink\nIronic 'cause I think I'm gettin' so huge I need a shrink\nI'm beginnin' to lose sleep: one sheep, two sheep\nGoin' coo-coo and kooky as Kool Keith\nBut I'm actually weirder than you think, 'cause I'm\u2014\nI'm friends with the monster that's under my bed\nGet along with the voices inside of my head\nYou're tryin' to save me, stop holdin' your breath\nAnd you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy\nWell, that's nothin'\nYou might also like\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\nWell, that's nothin'\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n\nNow, I ain't much of a poet\nBut I know somebody once told me to seize the moment\nAnd don't squander it 'cause you never know when it all\nCould be over tomorrow, so I keep conjurin'\nSometimes I wonder where these thoughts spawn from\nYeah, ponderin'll do you wonders\nNo wonder you're losin' your mind, the way it wanders\nYodel-odel-ay-hee-hoo! I think it went wanderin' off down yonder\nAnd stumbled onto Jeff VanVonderen\n'Cause I need an interventionist\nTo intervene between me and this monster\nAnd save me from myself and all this conflict\n'Cause the very thing that I love's killin' me and I can't conquer it\nMy OCD's conkin' me in the head, keep knockin'\nNobody's home, I'm sleepwalkin'\nI'm just relayin' what the voice in my head's sayin'\nDon't shoot the messenger, I'm just friends with the\u2014\nI'm friends with the monster that's under my bed\nGet along with the voices inside of my head\nYou're tryin' to save me, stop holdin' your breath\nAnd you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy\nWell, that's nothin'\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\nWell, that's nothin'\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n\nCall me crazy, but I have this vision, one day that\nI'll walk amongst you a regular civilian\nBut until then, drums get killed and\nI'm comin' straight at MCs, blood gets spilled and\nI'll take you back to the days that I'd get on a Dre track\nGive every kid who got played that pumped-up feelin'\nAnd shit to say back to the kids who played him\nI ain't here to save the fuckin' children\nBut if one kid out of a hundred million\nWho are goin' through a struggle, feels it and relates, that's great\nIt's payback, Russell Wilson fallin' way back\nIn the draft, turn nothin' into somethin', still can make that\nStraw into gold, chump, I will spin\u2014Rumpelstiltskin in a haystack\nMaybe I need a straightjacket\nFace facts: I am nuts for real, but I'm okay with that\nIt's nothin', I'm still friends with the\nI'm friends with the monster that's under my bed\nGet along with the voices inside of my head\nYou're tryin' to save me, stop holdin' your breath\nAnd you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy\nI'm friends with the monster that's under my bed\n(Get along with) Get along with the voices inside of my head\n(You're tryin' to) You're tryin' to save me, stop holdin' your breath\n(And you think) And you think I'm crazy, yeah, you think I'm crazy\nWell, that's nothin'\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\nWell, that's nothin'\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)\n(Yoo-ooh, ooh-ooh)"}
{"text":"Obie Trice, real name, no gimmicks\nRa\u2014, *record scratch*\n\nTwo trailer-park girls go round the outside\nRound the outside, round the outside\nTwo trailer-park girls go round the outside\nRound the outside, round the outside\nWoo! (Ooh, ooh)\n\nGuess who's back, back again?\nShady's back, tell a friend\nGuess who's back? Guess who's back?\nGuess who's back? Guess who's back?\nGuess who's back? Guess who's back?\nGuess who's back?\n(Da-da-da, da, da, da, da, da, da)\n(Da-da-da, da, da, da, da)\n\nI've created a monster\n'Cause nobody wants to see Marshall no more, they want Shady, I'm chopped liver\nWell, if you want Shady, this is what I'll give ya\nA little bit of weed mixed with some hard liquor\nSome vodka that'll jump-start my heart quicker\nThan a shock when I get shocked at the hospital\nBy the doctor when I'm not cooperating\nWhen I'm rockin' the table while he's operating (Hey!)\nYou waited this long, now stop debating\n'Cause I'm back, I'm on the rag and ovulating\nI know that you got a job, Ms. Cheney\nBut your husband's heart problem's complicating\nSo the FCC won't let me be\nOr let me be me, so let me see\nThey tried to shut me down on MTV\nBut it feels so empty without me\nSo come on and dip, bum on your lips\nFuck that, cum on your lips and some on your tits\nAnd get ready, 'cause this shit's about to get heavy\nI just settled all my lawsuits (Fuck you, Debbie!)\nYou might also like\nNow, this looks like a job for me\nSo everybody, just follow me\n'Cause we need a little controversy\n'Cause it feels so empty without me\nI said this looks like a job for me\nSo everybody, just follow me\n'Cause we need a little controversy\n'Cause it feels so empty without me\n\nLittle hellions, kids feeling rebellious\nEmbarrassed, their parents still listen to Elvis\nThey start feelin' like prisoners, helpless\n'Til someone comes along on a mission and yells, \"Bitch!\"\nA visionary, vision is scary\nCould start a revolution, pollutin' the airwaves\nA rebel, so just let me revel and bask\nIn the fact that I got everyone kissin' my ass\nAnd it's a disaster, such a catastrophe\nFor you to see so damn much of my ass, you asked for me?\nWell, I'm back, da-na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na-na\nFix your bent antenna, tune it in, and then I'm gonna\nEnter in and up under your skin like a splinter\nThe center of attention, back for the winter\nI'm interesting, the best thing since wrestling\nInfesting in your kid's ears and nesting\nTesting, \"Attention, please\"\nFeel the tension soon as someone mentions me\nHere's my ten cents, my two cents is free\nA nuisance, who sent? You sent for me?\nNow, this looks like a job for me\nSo everybody, just follow me\n'Cause we need a little controversy\n'Cause it feels so empty without me\nI said this looks like a job for me\nSo everybody, just follow me\n'Cause we need a little controversy\n'Cause it feels so empty without me\n\nA tisket, a tasket, I'll go tit-for-tat wit'\nAnybody who's talkin', \"This shit, that shit\"\nChris Kirkpatrick, you can get your ass kicked\nWorse than them little Limp Bizkit bastards\nAnd Moby? You can get stomped by Obie\nYou thirty-six-year-old bald-headed fag, blow me\nYou don't know me, you're too old, let go\nIt's over, nobody listens to techno\nNow, let's go, just give me the signal\nI'll be there with a whole list full of new insults\nI've been dope, suspenseful with a pencil\nEver since Prince turned himself into a symbol\nBut, sometimes, the shit just seems\nEverybody only wants to discuss me\nSo this must mean I'm disgusting\nBut it's just me, I'm just obscene (Yeah)\nThough I'm not the first king of controversy\nI am the worst thing since Elvis Presley\nTo do Black music so selfishly\nAnd use it to get myself wealthy (Hey!)\nThere's a concept that works\nTwenty million other white rappers emerge\nBut no matter how many fish in the sea\nIt'd be so empty without me\nNow, this looks like a job for me\nSo everybody, just follow me\n'Cause we need a little controversy\n'Cause it feels so empty without me\nI said this looks like a job for me\nSo everybody, just follow me\n'Cause we need a little controversy\n'Cause it feels so empty without me\nHum, dei-dei, la-la\nLa-la, la-la-la\nLa-la, la-la-la\nLa-la, la-la\nHum, dei-dei, la-la\nLa-la, la-la-la\nLa-la, la-la-la\nLa-la, la-la\nKids!"}
{"text":"Woah, Joyner, Joyner, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nYeah, I done did a lot of things in my day, I admit it\nI don't take back what I say, if I said it, then I meant it\nAll my life I want a Grammy, but I'll prolly never get it\nI ain't never had no trophy or no motherfuckin' ribbon (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nFuck the system, I'm that nigga, bend the law, cut the rules\nI'm about to risk it all, I ain't got too much to lose (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nY'all been eatin' long enough, it's my turn to cut the food (Yeah)\nPass the plate (Yeah), where my drink (Hol' up)?\nThis my day (Yeah, yeah), lucky you, fuck you too, woo!\n\nY'all gotta move, y'all gotta move, y'all gotta move\nGive me some room (Woo!), give me some room (Hey!), give me the juice\nHop out the coupe, hop out the coupe, hop out and shoot\nY'all gotta move (Boom, bap), y'all gotta move (Woo!), give me the juice\n\nBack on my bullshit, my back to the wall\nTurn my back on you, all of you finished (Bap, bop, bop)\nBack to these bullets, it's back to the job\nPull my MAC out and all of you runnin' (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBack on my hood shit, it's back to the pushin'\nThese packs and I'm actually pumpin'\nCan't fuck with you rappers, you practically suckin' (Yuh)\nYou might'a went platinum but that don't mean nothin'\nI'm actually buzzin' this time\nStraight out the kitchen, I told 'em the oven is mine\nI do not fuck with you guys (Woo!)\nIf I don't kill you, just know you gon' suffer this time (Yeah!)\nI ain't no gangster, but I got some bangers\nSome chains and some blades and a couple of knives\nChoppers and jammies, a partridge, a pear tree\nMy Twelve Days of Christmas was nothin' but lies (I)\nRun at you hard like a sumo (Sumo)\nThey say I talk like a chulo (Chulo!)\nI live on Mars, I'm not Bruno (Woo!)\nBitch, I'm a dog, call me Cujo (Rah)\nYou play your cards, I reverse on you all\nAnd I might just draw four like a Uno (Bup)\nC\u00e1llate boca mejor, maric\u00f3n\nLittle puto, and all of you culo (Joyner)\nThey've invented a level up in the ghetto to get old\nLookin' for somethin' I prolly can never find now (Yeah, yeah)\nShit get relevant 'til all the beef die down (Yeah)\nIn truth, a nigga just really want me tied down (Bop, bop)\nI've been alone and I never needed nobody\nJust only me and my shawty, I'll tell these niggas to lie down\nKeep all the money, I never wanted the lifestyle\nI just pray to God that my son'll be alright now (Woo! Woo!)\nI said ain't no love for the other side\nOr anyone who ever want smoke (Joyner)\nWhen I die I'm goin' out as the underdog who never lost hope (Yeah)\nYou in the wrong cab, down the wrong path\nNigga, wrong way, wrong road (Woo! Woo!)\nSnakes in the grass tryna slither fast\nI just bought a fuckin' lawn mower (Vroom!)\nYou might also like\nI done said a lotta things in my day, I admit it\nThis is payback in a way (Yeah), I regret it that I did it\nI done won a couple Grammys, but I sold my soul to get 'em (Ah)\nWasn't in it for the trophies (Nah), just the fuckin' recognition\nFuck's the difference? I'm that cracker, bend the law, fuck the rules\nMan, I used to risk it all, now I got too much to lose\nI've been eatin' long enough, man, my stomach should be full\nI just ate, licked the plate, my buffet, lucky me, fuck you think? (Woo!)\n\nI got a couple of mansions\nStill, I don't have any manners\nYou got a couple of ghostwriters\nBut to these kids, it don't actually matter\nThey're askin' me, \"What the fuck happened to hip-hop?\"\nI said, \"I don't have any answers\"\n'Cause I took an L when I dropped my last album\nIt hurt me like hell, but I'm back on these rappers (Yeah)\nAnd actually comin' from humble beginnings\nI'm somewhat uncomfortable winning\nI wish I could say, \"What a wonderful feeling!\nWe're on the upswing like we're punchin' the ceiling!\"\nBut nothin' is feeling like anyone has any fuckin' ability\nTo even stick to a subject, it's killin' me\nThe inability to pen humility\nHa-ta-ta, ba-ta-ta, why don't we make a bunch of\nFuckin' songs about nothin' and mumble 'em?\nFuck it, I'm goin' for the jugular\nShit is a circus, you clowns that are comin' up\nDon't give an ounce of a motherfuck\nAbout the ones that were here before you that made rap (Yeah)\nLet's recap, way back, MC's that (What?)\nWreak havoc on tape decks (Woo)\nADAT's, where the G Raps and Kanes at?\nWe need 3 Stacks ASAP and bring Masta Ace back\n'Cause half of these rappers have brain damage\nAll the lean rappin', face tats, syruped out like tree sap\nI don't hate trap (Nah), and I don't wanna seem mad\nBut in fact (Yeah), where the old me at? The same cat\nThat would take that feedback and aim back, I need that\nBut I think it's inevitable they know what button to press\nOr what lever to pull to give me to snap though (Lil' bitch)\nAnd if I pay it attention, I'm prob'ly makin' it bigger\nBut you've been takin' ya dicks and I'm fuckin' back, ho (Get it?)\nOn the brink, any minute got me thinkin' of finishin'\nEverything with acetaminophen and reapin' the benefits\nI'm asleep at the wheel again, as I begin to thinkin' about an evil intent of another beat I'ma kill again\n'Cause even if I gotta end up eating a pill again\nEven ketamine or methamphetamine with the minithin\nIt better be at least seventy or three-hundred milligram\nAnd I might as well 'cause I'ma end up bein' a villain again\nLevels to this shit, I got an elevator\nYou could never say to me I'm not a fuckin' record breaker (Yeah)\nI sound like a broken record every time I break a record\nNobody could ever take away the legacy I made, I never cater\nMotherfucker, now I got a right to be this way\nI got spite inside my DNA (Yeah)\nBut I roll 'til the wheels fall off, I'm working tirelessly, ayy\nIt's the moment y'all been waitin' for like California\nWishin' rain to pour in that drought, y'all\nBeen prayin' for my downfall (Yeah)\nFrom the 8 Mile to the Southpaw\nStill the same Marshall, that outlaw\nThat they say as a writer might've fell off\nI'm back on that bull like the cowboys\nSo y'all gotta move, yeah, y'all gotta move, yeah, y'all gotta move\nGive me some room (Woo!), give me some room (Hey!), give me the juice\nHop out the coupe (Joyner!), hop out the coupe (Joyner!), hop out and shoot\nY'all gotta move (Boom, bap), y'all gotta move (Woo!), give me the juice"}
{"text":"May I have your attention, please?\nMay I have your attention, please?\nWill the real Slim Shady please stand up?\nI repeat\nWill the real Slim Shady please stand up?\nWe're gonna have a problem here\n\nY'all act like you never seen a white person before\nJaws all on the floor like Pam, like Tommy just burst in the door\nAnd started whoopin' her ass worse than before\nThey first were divorced, throwin' her over furniture (Agh!)\nIt's the return of the \"Oh, wait, no way, you're kidding\nHe didn't just say what I think he did, did he?\"\nAnd Dr. Dre said\nNothing, you idiots, Dr. Dre's dead, he's locked in my basement (Ha-ha!)\nFeminist women love Eminem\n\"Chicka-chicka-chicka, Slim Shady, I'm sick of him\nLook at him, walkin' around, grabbin' his you-know-what\nFlippin' the you-know-who,\" \"Yeah, but he's so cute though\"\nYeah, I probably got a couple of screws up in my head loose\nBut no worse than what's goin' on in your parents' bedrooms\nSometimes I wanna get on TV and just let loose\nBut can't, but it's cool for Tom Green to hump a dead moose\n\"My bum is on your lips, my bum is on your lips\"\nAnd if I'm lucky, you might just give it a little kiss\nAnd that's the message that we deliver to little kids\nAnd expect them not to know what a woman's clitoris is\nOf course, they're gonna know what intercourse is\nBy the time they hit fourth grade they've got the Discovery Channel, don't they?\nWe ain't nothin' but mammals\u2014\nWell, some of us cannibals who cut other people open like cantaloupes\nBut if we can hump dead animals and antelopes\nThen there's no reason that a man and another man can't elope\nBut if you feel like I feel, I got the antidote\nWomen, wave your pantyhose, sing the chorus, and it goes\nYou might also like\nI'm Slim Shady, yes, I'm the real Shady\nAll you other Slim Shadys are just imitating\nSo won't the real Slim Shady please stand up\nPlease stand up, please stand up?\n'Cause I'm Slim Shady, yes, I'm the real Shady\nAll you other Slim Shadys are just imitating\nSo won't the real Slim Shady please stand up\nPlease stand up, please stand up?\n\nWill Smith don't gotta cuss in his raps to sell records (Nope)\nWell, I do, so fuck him, and fuck you too\nYou think I give a damn about a GRAMMY?\nHalf of you critics can't even stomach me, let alone stand me\n\"But Slim, what if you win? Wouldn't it be weird?\"\nWhy? So you guys could just lie to get me here?\nSo you can sit me here next to Britney Spears?\nYo, shit, Christina Aguilera better switch me chairs\nSo I can sit next to Carson Daly and Fred Durst\nAnd hear 'em argue over who she gave head to first\nLittle bitch put me on blast on MTV\n\"Yeah, he's cute, but I think he's married to Kim, hee-hee\"\nI should download her audio on MP3\nAnd show the whole world how you gave Eminem VD (Agh!)\nI'm sick of you little girl and boy groups, all you do is annoy me\nSo I have been sent here to destroy you\nAnd there's a million of us just like me\nWho cuss like me, who just don't give a fuck like me\nWho dress like me, walk, talk and act like me\nAnd just might be the next best thing, but not quite me\n'Cause I'm Slim Shady, yes, I'm the real Shady\nAll you other Slim Shadys are just imitating\nSo won't the real Slim Shady please stand up\nPlease stand up, please stand up?\n'Cause I'm Slim Shady, yes, I'm the real Shady\nAll you other Slim Shadys are just imitating\nSo won't the real Slim Shady please stand up\nPlease stand up, please stand up?\n\nI'm like a head trip to listen to 'cause I'm only givin' you\nThings you joke about with your friends inside your livin' room\nThe only difference is I got the balls to say it in front of y'all\nAnd I don't gotta be false or sugarcoat it at all\nI just get on the mic and spit it\nAnd whether you like to admit it (Err), I just shit it\nBetter than ninety percent of you rappers out can\nThen you wonder: \"How can kids eat up these albums like Valiums?\"\nIt's funny, 'cause at the rate I'm goin', when I'm thirty\nI'll be the only person in the nursin' home flirting\nPinchin' nurse's asses when I'm jacking off with Jergens\nAnd I'm jerking, but this whole bag of Viagra isn't working\nAnd every single person is a Slim Shady lurkin'\nHe could be working at Burger King, spittin' on your onion rings (Ch, puh)\nOr in the parkin' lot, circling, screaming, \"I don't give a fuck!\"\nWith his windows down and his system up\nSo will the real Shady please stand up\nAnd put one of those fingers on each hand up?\nAnd be proud to be outta your mind and outta control\nAnd one more time, loud as you can, how does it go?\nI'm Slim Shady, yes, I'm the real Shady\nAll you other Slim Shadys are just imitating\nSo won't the real Slim Shady please stand up\nPlease stand up, please stand up?\n'Cause I'm Slim Shady, yes, I'm the real Shady\nAll you other Slim Shadys are just imitating\nSo won't the real Slim Shady please stand up\nPlease stand up, please stand up?\n'Cause I'm Slim Shady, yes, I'm the real Shady\nAll you other Slim Shadys are just imitating\nSo won't the real Slim Shady please stand up\nPlease stand up, please stand up?\n'Cause I'm Slim Shady, yes, I'm the real Shady\nAll you other Slim Shadys are just imitating\nSo won't the real Slim Shady please stand up\nPlease stand up, please stand up?\n\nHa-ha\nI guess there's a Slim Shady in all of us\nFuck it, let's all stand up"}
{"text":"My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I\nGot out of bed at all\nThe morning rain clouds up my window\nAnd I can't see at all\nAnd even if I could, it'd all be grey\nBut your picture on my wall\nIt reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad\nMy tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I\nGot out of bed at all\nThe morning rain clouds up my window\nAnd I can't see at all\nAnd even if I could, it'd all be grey\nBut your picture on my wall\nIt reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad\nDear Slim, I wrote you, but you still ain't callin'\nI left my cell, my pager and my home phone at the bottom\nI sent two letters back in autumn, you must not've got 'em\nThere probably was a problem at the post office or somethin'\nSometimes I scribble addresses too sloppy when I jot 'em\nBut anyways, fuck it, what's been up, man? How's your daughter?\nMy girlfriend's pregnant too, I'm 'bout to be a father\nIf I have a daughter, guess what I'ma call her?\nI'ma name her Bonnie\nI read about your Uncle Ronnie too, I'm sorry\nI had a friend kill himself over some bitch who didn't want him\nI know you probably hear this every day, but I'm your biggest fan\nI even got the underground shit that you did with Skam\nI got a room full of your posters and your pictures, man\nI like the shit you did with Rawkus too, that shit was phat\nAnyways, I hope you get this, man, hit me back\nJust to chat, truly yours, your biggest fan, this is Stan\nYou might also like\nMy tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I\nGot out of bed at all\nThe morning rain clouds up my window\nAnd I can't see at all\nAnd even if I could, it'd all be grey\nBut your picture on my wall\nIt reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad\nDear Slim, you still ain't called or wrote, I hope you have a chance\nI ain't mad, I just think it's fucked up you don't answer fans\nIf you didn't want to talk to me outside your concert, you didn't have to\nBut you coulda signed an autograph for Matthew\nThat's my little brother, man, he's only six years old\nWe waited in the blisterin' cold\nFor you, for four hours, and you just said no\nThat's pretty shitty, man, you're like his fuckin' idol\nHe wants to be just like you, man, he likes you more than I do\nI ain't that mad, though I just don't like bein' lied to\nRemember when we met in Denver?\nYou said if I'd write you, you would write back\nSee, I'm just like you in a way: I never knew my father neither\nHe used to always cheat on my mom and beat her\nI can relate to what you're sayin' in your songs\nSo when I have a shitty day, I drift away and put 'em on\n\u2018Cause I don't really got shit else\nSo that shit helps when I'm depressed\nI even got a tattoo with your name across the chest\nSometimes I even cut myself to see how much it bleeds\nIt's like adrenaline, the pain is such a sudden rush for me\nSee, everything you say is real, and I respect you \u2018cause you tell it\nMy girlfriend's jealous 'cause I talk about you 24\/7\nBut she don't know you like I know you, Slim, no one does\nShe don't know what it was like for people like us growin' up\nYou gotta call me, man, I'll be the biggest fan you'll ever lose\nSincerely yours, Stan\u2014P.S. We should be together too\nMy tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I\nGot out of bed at all\nThe morning rain clouds up my window\nAnd I can't see at all\nAnd even if I could, it'd all be grey\nBut your picture on my wall\nIt reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad\nDear Mr. I'm-Too-Good-to-Call-or-Write-My-Fans\nThis'll be the last package I ever send your ass\nIt's been six months, and still no word\u2014I don't deserve it?\nI know you got my last two letters, I wrote the addresses on 'em perfect\nSo this is my cassette I'm sendin' you, I hope you hear it\nI'm in the car right now, I'm doin' 90 on the freeway\nHey, Slim, I drank a fifth of vodka, you dare me to drive?\nYou know the song by Phil Collins, \"In the Air of the Night\"\nAbout that guy who coulda saved that other guy from drownin'\nBut didn't, then Phil saw it all, then at a show he found him?\nThat's kinda how this is: you coulda rescued me from drownin'\nNow it's too late, I'm on a thousand downers now\u2014I'm drowsy\nAnd all I wanted was a lousy letter or a call\nI hope you know I ripped all of your pictures off the wall\nI loved you, Slim, we coulda been together\u2014think about it!\nYou ruined it now, I hope you can't sleep and you dream about it\nAnd when you dream I hope you can't sleep and you scream about it\nI hope your conscience eats at you and you can't breathe without me\nSee, Slim\u2014shut up, bitch! I'm tryin' to talk\nHey, Slim, that's my girlfriend screamin' in the trunk\nBut I didn't slit her throat, I just tied her up\u2014see? I ain't like you\n\u2018Cause if she suffocates she'll suffer more and then she'll die too\nWell, gotta go, I'm almost at the bridge now\nOh, shit, I forgot\u2014how am I supposed to send this shit out?!\nMy tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why I\nGot out of bed at all\nThe morning rain clouds up my window\nAnd I can't see at all\nAnd even if I could, it'd all be grey\nBut your picture on my wall\nIt reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad\nDear Stan, I meant to write you sooner, but I just been busy\nYou said your girlfriend's pregnant now, how far along is she?\nLook, I'm really flattered you would call your daughter that\nAnd here's an autograph for your brother; I wrote it on a Starter cap\nI'm sorry I didn't see you at the show, I must've missed you\nDon't think I did that shit intentionally just to diss you\nBut what's this shit you said about you like to cut your wrists too?\nI say that shit just clownin', dawg, come on, how fucked up is you?\nYou got some issues, Stan, I think you need some counselin'\nTo help your ass from bouncin' off the walls when you get down some\nAnd what's this shit about us meant to be together?\nThat type of shit'll make me not want us to meet each other\nI really think you and your girlfriend need each other\nOr maybe you just need to treat her better\nI hope you get to read this letter, I just hope it reaches you in time\nBefore you hurt yourself, I think that you'll be doin' just fine\nIf you relax a little, I'm glad I inspire you, but Stan\nWhy are you so mad? Try to understand that I do want you as a fan\nI just don't want you to do some crazy shit\nI seen this one shit on the news a couple weeks ago that made me sick\nSome dude was drunk and drove his car over a bridge\nAnd had his girlfriend in the trunk, and she was pregnant with his kid\nAnd in the car they found a tape, but they didn't say who it was to\nCome to think about it, his name was\u2014it was you\nDamn\u2026"}
{"text":"*Plane crash*\nYeah (Illa, Illa, Illa)\nYo, I'm just gonna write down my first thoughts, and see where this takes me, \u2019cause I feel like I wanna punch the world in the fuckin' face right now\nYeah\nLet me explain just how to make greatness\nStraight out the gate, I'm \u2019bout to break it down\nAin't no mistakes allowed, but make no mistake, I'm 'bout\nTo rape the alphabet, I may raise some brows\nIf I press the issue just to get the anger out (Brrr!)\nFull magazine could take Staples out\nSavage but ain't thinkin' 'bout no bank account\nBut bitch, I'm off the chain like Kala Brown\nMotherfucker, shut the fuck up when I\u2019m talkin\u2019, lil' bitch\nI\u2019m sorry, wait, what's your talent? Oh, critiquin'\nMy talent? Oh, bitch, I don't know who the fuck y\u2019all are\nTo give a sub-par bar or even have an opinion of you\nYou mention me, millions of views, attention in news\nI mention you, lose-lose for me, win-win for you\nBillions of views, your ten cents are two\nSkim through the music to give shit reviews\nTo get clicks, but bitch, you just lit the fuse\nDon't get misconstrued, business as us'\nShit-list renewed, so get shit to do\nOr get dissed 'cause I just don't get\nWhat the fuck half the shit is that you're listenin' to\nDo you have any idea how much I hate this choppy flow\nEveryone copies though? Prob'ly no\nGet this fuckin' audio out my Audi, yo, adi\u00f3s\nI can see why people like Lil Yachty, but not me though\nNot even dissin', it just ain't for me\nAll I am simply is just an emcee\nMaybe \"Stan\" just isn't your cup of tea (Get it?)\nMaybe your cup's full of syrup and lean\nMaybe I need to stir up shit, preferably\nShake the world up if it were up to me\nPaul wants me to chill, y'all want me to ill\nI should eat a pill, probably I will\nOld me killed the new me, watch him bleed to death\nI breathe on the mirror, I don't see my breath\nPossibly I'm dead, I must be possessed\nLike an evil spell, I'm E-V-I-L (\"Evil\" spelled)\nJam a Crest Whitestrip in the tip of my dick\nWith an ice pick, stick it in a vise grip\nHang it on a spike fence, bang it with a pipe wrench\nWhile I take my ball sack and flick it like a light switch\nLike Vice President Mike Pence\nBack up on my shit in a sidekick as I lay it on a spike strip\nThese are things that I'd rather do than hear you on a mic\nSince nine tenths of your rhyme is about ice and\nJesus Christ, man, how many times is\nSomeone gonna fuck on my bitch? (Fuck my side chick!)\nYou won't ever see Em icy\nBut as cold as I get on the M-I-C\nI polarize shit, so the Thames might freeze\nAnd your skull might split like I bashed you upside it\nBitch, I got the club on smash like a nightstick (Yeah)\nTurn down for what?\nI ain't loud enough, nah, turn the Valium up (Illa, Illa, Illa)\n'Cause I don't know how I'm gonna get your mouths to shut\nNow when it doesn't matter what caliber\nI spit at, I'll bet a hundred thousand bucks\nYou'll turn around and just be like, \"Man, how the fuck\nSourpuss gonna get mad just 'cause his album sucks?\nAnd now he wants to take it out on us\" (Ooouuu)\nBut last week, an ex-fan mailed me a copy\nOf The Mathers LP to tell me to study\nIt'll help me get back to myself and she'll love me (Ooouuu)\nI mailed the bitch back and said if I did that\nI'd just be like everyone else in the fucking industry\nEspecially an effing Recovery clone of me (NFing)\nSo finger-bang, chicken wang, MGK, Igg' Azae'\nLil Pump, Lil Xan imitate Lil Wayne\nI should aim at everybody in the game, pick a name\nI'm fed up with bein' humble\nAnd rumor is I'm hungry, I'm sure you heard rumblings\nI heard you wanna rumble like an empty stomach\nI heard your mumblin' but it's jumbled in mumbo-jumbo\nThe era that I'm from will pummel you, that's what it's comin' to\nWhat the fuck you're gonna do when you run into it?\nI'm gonna crumble you and I'll take a number two\nAnd dump on you, if you ain't Joyner\nIf you ain't Kendrick or Cole or Sean, then you're a goner\nI'm 'bout to bring it to anyone in this bitch who want it\nI guess when you walk into BK you expect a Whopper\nYou can order a Quarter Pounder when you go to McDonald's\nBut if you're lookin' to get a porterhouse you better go get Revival\nBut y'all are actin' like I tried to serve you up a slider\nMaybe the vocals shoulda been auto-tuned\nAnd you woulda bought it\nBut sayin' I no longer got it\n'Cause you missed a line and never caught it\n'Cause it went over your head, because you're too stupid to get it\n'Cause you're mentally retarded, but pretend to be the smartest\nWith your expertise and knowledge, but you'll never be an artist\nAnd I'm harder on myself than you could ever be regardless\nWhat I'll never be is flawless, all I'll ever be is honest (Illa, Illa, Illa)\nEven when I'm gone they're gonna say I brought it\nEven when I hit my forties like a fuckin' alcoholic\nWith a bottle full of malt liquor\nBut I couldn't bottle this shit any longer\nThe fact that I know that I'ma hit my bottom\nIf I don't pull myself from the jaws of defeat and rise to my feet\nI don't see why y'all even started with me\nI get in beefs, my enemies die\nI don't cease fire 'til at least all are deceased\nI'm east side, never be caught slippin'\nNow you see why I don't sleep, not even a wink, I don't blink\nI don't doze off, I don't even nod to the beats\nI don't even close my fuckin' eyes when I sneeze\n\"Aw, man! That BET cypher was weak, it was garbage\nThe Thing ain't even orange\u2014oh my God, that's a reach!\"\nShout to all my colorblind people\nEach and everyone of y'all, if you call a fire engine green\nAquamarine, or you think water is pink\n\"Dawg, that's a date\" \u2014 \"Looks like an olive to me\"\n\"Look, there's an apple!\" \u2014 \"No, it's not, it's a peach!\"\nSo finger-bang, Pootie Tang\nBurger King, Gucci Gang, dookie, dang\nCharlamagne gonna hate anyway, doesn't matter what I say\nGive me Donkey of the Day\nWhat a way for 2018 to get underway\nBut I'm gonna say everything that I wanna say\nWelcome to the slaughterhouse, bitch! (Yeah)\nInvite 'em in like a One A Day\nI'm not done (Preach!)\n'Cause I feel like the beast of burden\nThat line in the sand, was it even worth it?\n'Cause the way I see people turning's\nMakin' it seem worthless, it's startin' to defeat the purpose\nI'm watchin' my fan base shrink to thirds\nAnd I was just tryin' to do the right thing, but word\nHas the court of public opinion reached a verdict\nOr still yet to be determined?\n'Cause I'm determined to be me, critiqued or worshipped\nBut if I could go back, I'd at least reword it\nAnd say I empathize with the people this evil serpent\nSold the dream to that he's deserted\nBut I think it's workin'\nThese verses are makin' him a wee bit nervous\nAnd he's too scurred to answer me with words\n'Cause he knows that he will lyrically get murdered\nBut I know at least he's heard it\n'Cause Agent Orange just sent the Secret Service\nTo meet in person to see if I really think of hurtin' him\nOr ask if I'm linked to terrorists\nI said, \"Only when it comes to ink and lyricists\"\nBut my beef is more media journalists\n(Hold up, hold up, hold up)\nI said, my beef is more meaty, a journalist\nCan get a mouthful of flesh\nAnd yes, I mean eating a penis\n'Cause they've been pannin' my album to death\nSo I've been givin' the media fingers\nDon't wanna turn this to a counseling sesh\nBut they've been puttin' me through the ringer\nSo I ain't ironin' shit out with the press\nBut I just took this beat to the cleanersYou might also like"}
{"text":"I got a song filled with shit for the strong-willed\nWhen the world gives you a raw deal\nSets you off 'til you scream, \"Piss off! Screw you!\"\nWhen it talks to you like you don't belong\nOr tells you you're in the wrong field\nWhen something's in your mitochondrial\n'Cause it latched on to you, like\u2014\n\nKnock knock, let the devil in\nManevolent as I've ever been, head is spinnin'\nThis medicine's screamin', \"L-L-L-Let us in!\"\nL-L-L-Like a salad bowl, Edgar Allan Poe\nBedridden, shoulda been dead a long time ago\nLiquid Tylenol, gelatins, think my skeleton's meltin'\nWicked, I get all high when I think I've smelled the scent\nOf elephant manure\u2014hell, I meant Kahl\u00faa\nScrew it, to hell with it, I went through hell with accelerants\nAnd blew up my-my-myself again\nVolkswagen, tailspin, bucket matches my pale skin\nMayo and went from Hellmann's and being rail thin\nFilet-o-Fish, Scribble Jam, Rap Olympics '97 Freaknik\nHow can I be down? Me and Bizarre in Florida\nProof's room slept on the floor of 'da motel then\nDr. Dre said, \"Hell yeah!\"\nAnd I got his stamp like a postcard, word to Mel-Man\nAnd I know they're gonna hate\nBut I don't care, I barely can wait\nTo hit 'em with the snare and the bass\nSquare in the face, this fuckin' world better prepare to get laced\nBecause they're gonna taste my\u2014\nYou might also like\nVenom, (I got that) adrenaline momentum\nAnd I'm not knowin' when I'm\nEver gonna slow up and I'm\nReady to snap any moment I'm\nThinkin' it's time to go get 'em\nThey ain't gonna know what hit 'em\n(W-W-When they get bit with the\u2014)\nVenom, (I got that) adrenaline momentum\nAnd I'm not knowin' when I'm\nEver gonna slow up and I'm\nReady to snap any moment I'm\nThinkin' it's time to go get 'em\nThey ain't gonna know what hit 'em\n(W-W-When they get bit with the\u2014)\n\nI said knock knock, let the devil in\nShotgun p-p-pellets in the felt pen\nCocked, fuck around and catch a hot one\nIt-it's evident I'm not done\nV-Venomous, the thoughts spun\nLike a web and you just caught in 'em\nHeld against your will like a hubcap or mud flap\nBeat strangler attack\nSo this ain't gonna feel like a love tap\nEat painkiller pills, fuck up the track\nLike, what's her name's at the wheel? Danica Patrick\nThrew the car into reverse at the Indy, a nut crashin'\nInto ya, the back of it just mangled steel\nMy Mustang and the Jeep Wrangler grill\nWith the front smashed, much as my rear fender, assassin\nSlim be a combination of an actual kamikaze and Gandhi (Gandhi)\nTranslation, I will probably kill us both\nWhen I end up backin' into ya\nYou ain't gonna be able to tell what the fuck's happenin' to ya\nWhen you're bit with the\u2014\nVenom, adrenaline momentum\nAnd I'm not knowin' when I'm\nEver gonna slow up and I'm\nReady to snap any moment I'm\nThinkin' it's time to go get 'em\nThey ain't gonna know what hit 'em\n(W-W-When they get bit with the\u2014)\nVenom, (I got that) adrenaline momentum\nAnd I'm not knowin' when I'm\nEver gonna slow up and I'm\nReady to snap any moment I'm\nThinkin' it's time to go get 'em\nThey ain't gonna know what hit 'em\n(W-W-When they get bit with the\u2014)\n\nI said knock knock, let the devil in\nAlien, E-E-Elliott phone home\nAin't no telling when this chokehold\nOn this game will end, I'm loco\nBecame a Symbiote, so\nMy fangs are in your throat, ho\nYou're snake-bitten with my\u2014venom\nWith the ballpoint pen I'm\nGun cocked, bump stock, double-aught, buckshot\nTire thumper, a garrote, tie a couple knots\nFired up and caught fire, juggernaut\nPunk rock, bitch, it's goin' down like Yung Joc\n'Cause the Doc put me on like sunblock\nWhy the fuck not, you only get one shot\nAte shit 'til I can't taste it\nChased it with straight liquor\nThen paint thinner, then drank 'til I faint\nAnd awake with a headache\nAnd I take anything in rectangular shape\nThen I wait to face the demons I'm bonded to\n'Cause they're chasin' me but I'm part of you\nSo escapin' me is impossible\nI latch onto you like a\u2014parasite\nAnd I probably ruined your parents' life\nAnd your childhood too\n'Cause if I'm the music that y'all grew up on\nI'm responsible for you retarded fools\nI'm the super villain Dad and Mom was losin' their marbles to\nYou marvel that? Eddie Brock is you\nAnd I'm the suit, so call me\u2014\nVenom, (I got that) adrenaline momentum\nAnd I'm not knowin' when I'm\nEver gonna slow up and I'm\nReady to snap any moment I'm\nThinkin' it's time to go get 'em\nThey ain't gonna know what hit 'em\n(W-W-When they get bit with the\u2014)\nVenom, (I got that) adrenaline momentum\nAnd I'm not knowin' when I'm\nEver gonna slow up and I'm\nReady to snap any moment I'm\nThinkin' it's time to go get 'em\nThey ain't gonna know what hit 'em\n(W-W-When they get bit with the\u2014)"}
{"text":"Yeah\nI know sometimes\nThings may not always make sense to you right now\nBut hey\nWhat Daddy always tell you?\nStraighten up, little soldier\nStiffen up that upper lip\nWhat you cryin' about?\nYou got me\n\nHailie, I know you miss your Mom, and I know you miss your Dad\nWhen I'm gone, but I'm tryin' to give you the life that I never had\nI can see you're sad, even when you smile, even when you laugh\nI can see it in your eyes, deep inside you wanna cry\n'Cause you're scared, I ain't there, Daddy's wit' you in your prayers\nNo more cryin', wipe them tears, Daddy's here, no more nightmares\nWe gon' pull together through it, we gon' do it\nLainie, Uncle's crazy, ain't he? Yeah, but he loves you, girl, and you better know it\nWe're all we got in this world when it spins, when it swirls\nWhen it whirls, when it twirls, two little beautiful girls\nLookin' puzzled, in a daze, I know it's confusin' you\nDaddy's always on the move, Mama's always on the news\nI try to keep you sheltered from it, but somehow it seems\nThe harder that I try to do that, the more it backfires on me\nAll the things growin' up as Daddy that he had to see\nDaddy don't want you to see, but you see just as much as he did\nWe did not plan it to be this way, your mother and me\nBut things have got so bad between us, I don't see us ever bein'\nTogether ever again, like we used to be when we was teenagers\nBut then, of course, everything always happens for a reason\nI guess it was never meant to be\nBut it's just somethin' we have no control over, and that's what destiny is\nBut no more worries, rest your head and go to sleep\nMaybe one day we'll wake up and this'll all just be a dream\nYou might also like\nNow hush, little baby, don't you cry\nEverything's gonna be alright\nStiffen that upper lip up, little lady, I told ya\nDaddy's here to hold ya through the night\nI know Mommy's not here right now and we don't know why\nWe feel how we feel inside\nIt may seem a little crazy, pretty baby\nBut I promise Mama's gon' be alright\n\nHeh, it's funny\nI remember back one year when Daddy had no money\nMommy wrapped the Christmas presents up and stuck 'em under the tree\nAnd said some of 'em were from me 'cause Daddy couldn't buy 'em\nI'll never forget that Christmas, I sat up the whole night crying\n'Cause Daddy felt like a bum\u2014see, Daddy had a job\nBut his job was to keep the food on the table for you and Mom\nAnd at the time, every house that we lived in\nEither kept gettin' broken into and robbed or shot up on the block\nAnd your Mom was savin' money for you in a jar\nTryin' to start a piggy bank for you so you could go to college\nAlmost had a thousand dollars, 'til someone broke in and stole it\nAnd I know it hurt so bad it broke your Mama's heart\nAnd it seemed like everything was just startin' to fall apart\nMom and Dad was arguin' a lot\nSo Mama moved back on to Chalmers in the flat, one-bedroom apartment\nAnd Dad moved back to the other side of 8 Mile on Novara\nAnd that's when Daddy went to California with his CD\nAnd met Dr. Dre, and flew you and Mama out to see me\nBut Daddy had to work, you and Mama had to leave me\nThen you started seein' Daddy on the TV\nAnd Mama didn't like it\nAnd you and Lainie were too young to understand it\nPapa was a rolling stone, Mama developed a habit\nAnd it all happened too fast for either one of us to grab it\nI'm just sorry you were there and had to witness it firsthand\n'Cause all I ever wanted to do was just make you proud\nNow I'm sittin' in this empty house just reminiscin'\nLookin' at your baby pictures, it just trips me out\nTo see how much you both have grown, it's almost like you're sisters now\nWow, guess you pretty much are, and Daddy's still here\nLainie, I'm talkin' to you too, Daddy's still here\nI like the sound of that, yeah, it's got a ring to it, don't it?\nShh! Mama's only gone for the moment\nNow hush, little baby, don't you cry\nEverything's gonna be alright\nStiffen that upper lip up, little lady, I told ya\nDaddy's here to hold ya through the night\nI know Mommy's not here right now and we don't know why\nWe feel how we feel inside\nIt may seem a little crazy, pretty baby\nBut I promise Mama's gon' be alright\n\nAnd if you ask me to, Daddy's gonna buy you a mockingbird\nI'ma give you the world\nI'ma buy a diamond ring for you, I'ma sing for you\nI'll do anything for you to see you smile\nAnd if that mockingbird don't sing and that ring don't shine\nI'ma break that birdie's neck\nI'll go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya\nAnd make him eat every carat, don't fuck with Dad! (Haha)"}
{"text":"I've been a liar, been a thief\nBeen a lover, been a cheat\nAll my sins need holy water, feel it washing over me\nWell, little one, I don't want to admit to something\nIf all it's gonna cause is pain\nTruth and my lies right now are falling like the rain\nSo let the river run\n\nHe's comin' home with his neck scratched, to catch flack\nSweat jackets and dress slacks, mismatched\nOn his breath's Jack, he's a sex addict\nAnd she just wants to exact revenge and get back\nIt's a chess match, she's on his back like a jet-pack\nShe's kept track of all his Internet chats\nAnd guess who just happens to be movin' on to the next\nActually, just shit on my last chick and she has what my ex lacks\n'Cause she loves danger, psychopath\nAnd you don't fuck with no man's girl, even I know that\nBut she's devised some plan to stab him in the back\nKnife in hand, says their relationship's hangin' by a strand\nSo she's been on the web lately\nSays maybe she'll be my Gwen Stacy, to spite her man\nAnd I know she's using me to try to play him, I don't care\nHi Suzanne, but I shoulda said \"Bye Suzanne\"\nAfter the first night, but tonight I am\nYou might also like\nI've been a liar, been a thief\nBeen a lover, been a cheat\nAll my sins need holy water, feel it washing over me\nWell, little one, I don't want to admit to something\nIf all it's gonna cause is pain\nThe truth and my lies now are falling like the rain\nSo let the river run\n\nA one-night stand turned a two-night stand\nIt was \"come sunlight, scram,\" now we hug tight, and...\nHe found out, now she feels deserted and used\n'Cause he left, so what? He did it first to her too\nNow how am I supposed to tell this girl that we're through?\nIt's hard to find the words, I'm aloof, nervous, and Sue\nDon't want this to hurt, but what you deserve is the truth\nDon't take it personal, I just can't say this in person to you\nSo I revert to the studio, like hole-in-the-wall diners\nDon't have to be reserved in a booth\nI just feel like the person who I'm turning into's\nIrreversible, I preyed on you like it's church at the pew\nAnd now that I got you I don't want you\nTook advantage in my thirst to pursue\nWhy do I do this dirt that I do?\nGet on my soapbox and preach, my sermon and speech\nDetergent and bleach is burnin' the wound\n'Cause now with her in the womb\nWe can't bring her in this world, shoulda knew\nTo use protection 'fore I bit into your forbidden fruit\nFuck!\nI've been a liar, been a thief\nBeen a lover, been a cheat\nAll my sins need holy water, feel it washing over me\nWell, little one, I don't want to admit to something\nIf all it's gonna cause is pain\nThe truth and my lies now are falling like the rain\nSo let the river run\n\nMy name's (Ooh), my name's (Ooh)\nRiver (Ooh), river run\nCall me (Ooh), call me (Ooh)\nRiver (Ooh), we'll let the river run\n\nAlways the bridesmaid, never \"The bride, hey!\"\nFuck can I say? If life was a highway\nAnd deceit was an enclave, I'd be swerving in five lanes\nSpeeds at a high rate, like I'm slidin' on ice, maybe\nThat's why I may have came at you sideways\nI can't keep my lies straight\nBut I made you terminate my baby\nThis love triangle left us in a wreck, tangled\nWhat else can I say? It was fun for a while\nBet I really woulda loved your smile\nDidn't really wanna abort, but fuck it\nWhat's one more lie, to tell our unborn child?\nI've been a liar, been a thief\nBeen a lover, been a cheat\nAll my sins need holy water, feel it washing over me\nWell, little one (I'm sorry)\nI don't want to admit to something (I fucked up)\nIf all it's gonna cause is pain\nThe truth and my lies now are falling like the rain\nSo let the river run"}
{"text":"'Cause sometimes you just feel tired\nYo, left, yo, left\nFeel weak and when you feel weak\nYo, left, right, left\nYou feel like you wanna just give up\nYo, left, yo, left\nBut you gotta search within you\nYo, left, right, left\nTry to find that inner strength and just pull that shit out of you\nYo, left, yo, left\nAnd get that motivation to not give up\nYo, left, right, left\nAnd not be a quitter, no matter how bad\nYo, left, yo, left\nYou wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse\nYo, left, right, left\n\n'Til I collapse I'm spillin' these raps long as you feel 'em\n'Til the day that I drop you'll never say that I'm not killin' 'em\n'Cause when I am not, then I'ma stop pennin' 'em\nAnd I am not hip-hop and I'm just not Eminem\nSubliminal thoughts, when I'ma stop sendin' 'em?\nWomen are caught in webs, spin 'em and hock venom\nAdrenaline shots of penicillin could not get the illin' to stop\nAmoxicillin's just not real enough\nThe criminal, cop-killin', hip-hop villain\nA minimal swap to cop millions of Pac listeners\nYou're comin' with me, feel it or not\nYou're gonna fear it like I showed ya the spirit of God lives in us\nYou hear it a lot, lyrics to shock\nIs it a miracle or am I just product of pop fizzin' up?\nFa' shizzle, my wizzle, this is the plot, listen up\nYou bizzles forgot, Slizzle does not give a fuck\nYou might also like\n'Til the roof comes off, 'til the lights go out\n'Til my legs give out, can't shut my mouth\n'Til the smoke clears out, am I high? Perhaps\nI'ma rip this shit 'til my bones collapse\n'Til the roof comes off, 'til the lights go out\n(Until the roof, until the roof)\n'Til my legs give out, can't shut my mouth\n(The roof comes off, the roof comes off)\n'Til the smoke clears out, am I high? Perhaps\n(Until my legs, until my legs)\nI'ma rip this shit 'til my bones collapse\n(Give out from underneath me)\n\nMusic is like magic, there's a certain feelin' you get\nWhen you real and you spit, and people are feelin' your shit\nThis is your moment, and every single minute you spend\nTryna hold on to it, 'cause you may never get it again\nSo while you're in it, try to get as much shit as you can\nAnd when your run is over, just admit when it's at its end\n'Cause I'm at the end of my wits with half the shit that gets in\nI got a list, here's the order of my list that it's in\nIt goes: Reggie, Jay-Z, 2Pac and Biggie\nAndr\u00e9 from OutKast, Jada, Kurupt, Nas, and then me\nBut in this industry I'm the cause of a lot of envy\nSo when I'm not put on this list, the shit does not offend me\nThat's why you see me walk around like nothing's botherin' me\nEven though half you people got a fuckin' problem with me\nYou hate it, but you know respect you got to give me\nThe press's wet dream, like Bobby and Whitney \u2014 Nate, hit me!\n'Til the roof comes off, 'til the lights go out\n'Til my legs give out, can't shut my mouth\n'Til the smoke clears out, am I high? Perhaps\nI'ma rip this shit 'til my bones collapse\n'Til the roof comes off, 'til the lights go out\nUntil the roof, until the roof\n'Til my legs give out, can't shut my mouth\nThe roof comes off, the roof comes off\n'Til the smoke clears out, am I high? Perhaps\nUntil my legs, until my legs\nI'ma rip this shit 'til my bones collapse\nGive out from underneath me\nSoon as a verse starts, I eat at an MC's heart\nWhat is he thinking? How not to go against me, smart\nAnd it's absurd how people hang on every word\nI'll prob'ly never get the props I feel I ever deserve\nBut I'll never be served, my spot is forever reserved\nIf I ever leave Earth, that would be the death of me first\n'Cause in my heart of hearts I know nothin' could ever be worse\nThat's why I'm clever when I put together every verse\nMy thoughts are sporadic, I act like I'm an addict\nI rap like I'm addicted to smack like I'm Kim Mathers\nBut I don't wanna go forth and back in constant battles\nThe fact is I would rather sit back and bomb some rappers\nSo this is like a full-blown attack I'm launchin' at 'em\nThe track is on some battlin' raps, who wants some static?\n'Cause I don't really think that the fact that I'm Slim matters\nA plaque and platinum status is wack if I'm not the baddest, so\n'Til the roof comes off, 'til the lights go out\n'Til my legs give out, can't shut my mouth\n'Til the smoke clears out, am I high? Perhaps\nI'ma rip this shit 'til my bones collapse\n'Til the roof comes off, 'til the lights go out\nUntil the roof, until the roof\n'Til my legs give out, can't shut my mouth\nThe roof comes off, the roof comes off\n'Til the smoke clears out, am I high? Perhaps\nUntil my legs, until my legs\nI'ma rip this shit 'til my bones collapse\nGive out from underneath me\n\nUntil the roof, until the roof\nThe roof comes off, the roof comes off\nUntil my legs, until my legs\nGive out from underneath me\nI, I will not fall, I will stand tall\nFeels like no one can beat me"}
{"text":"Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up!\nYeah\n\nBrain dead, eye drops\nPain meds, cyclops (Yup)\nDaybed, iPod\n\"May-back,\" Maybach (Yup)\nTrainwrecks, sidewalks\nPayless, high-tops (Uh)\nK-Fed, iHop\nPlaytex, icebox (Yeah)\n\nThat's how much we have in common (Yah!)\nThat's how much we have in common (Woah!)\nUp on this mic when we're on it (Yah)\nThat's how much we have in common (Yeah!)\nThat's how much we have in common (Woo!)\nThat's how much we have in common\nWe are not alike, there's nada like us on the mic (Yah!)\n\nI don't do Jordans and Audemars\nI do explosions and Molotovs\nY'all blowin' smoke as if y'all ain't washed\nI blow the smoke from the car exhaust\nFlyin' to a party I am not invited to, feelin' like the streets need me (What up?)\nI ain't gotta dance long as my Ferrari Spider move like C Breezy\nI don't gotta hire goons\nI'd rather try to buy the moon and breathe freely\nThe sky is blue, the tires new\nThe Maserati white and cool like G-Eazy\nWhy these dudes tryna figure out\nHow to do a freestyle as fly as me? (Why?)\nI'm confused tryna figure out\nHow to do Kapri Styles and Mya G\nEverybody doin' chick joints\nProlly rob these little dudes at fist point\n'Member everybody used to bite Nickel\nNow everybody doin' Bitcoin\nWe don't got nothin' in common (No!)\nWe don't got nothin' in common (No!)\nY'all into stuff like doubled-up Styrofoam cups\nOn them uppers-and-downers (Woo!)\nI'm into stuff like doublin' commas\nFind me a brother who's solid\nTo count this shit up and then bust this shit down\nWhen the cops hit us up, we can flush this shit down\nWe cannot give a fuck, shit, a fuckin' colonic\nSellin' your cock and your butt for a follow or\nPossible couple of dollars, you powder sniff\nNow you slippin', call it a power trip, a product of politics\nY'all went from profit and toppin' the charts\nTo dropped in the park in a pile of shit\nKnowledge is power, but powerless\nIf you've got it and you do not acknowledge it\nY'all music sound like Dr. Seuss inspired it\nHirin' strippers, prostitute retirin'\nWe can spit it for your advance\nI'm fit to be king, you're cut out to fit in Prince pants\nYou niggas\u2014\nYou might also like\nBrain dead, eye drops\nPain meds, cyclops (Yeah)\nDaybed, iPod\n\"May-back,\" Maybach (Yup)\nTrainwrecks, sidewalks\nPayless, high-tops (Uh)\nK-Fed, iHop\nPlaytex, icebox (Yeah)\n\nThat's how much we have in common (Yah!)\nThat's how much we have in common (Woah!)\nUp on this mic when we're on it (Yah)\nThat's how much we have in common (Yuh!)\nThat's how much we have in common (Woo!)\nThat's how much we have in common\nWe are not alike, there's nada like us\u2014\nYou say you affiliated with murderers, killers (Ayy!)\nThe people you run with are thuggin' (Gang!)\nBut you just a wannabe gunner (Gang!)\nLike you was gonna do somethin'\nActin' like you catchin' bodies (Ayy!)\nAnd you got juice, lil' youngin', you buggin'\nYou ain't never even been charged in connection with battery\nBitch, you ain't plugged into nothin'\nRap God spit lyrical bullets (Pew!)\nAnd gats cock, your partners better tool up\nThis has not to do with muscular\nBut have guns for sure, you better put a\nStrap on, other words if you're gonna\nRoll up with your (Gang!) you're gon' need a arsenal\n'Cause this bar is over your head\nSo you better\u2060\u2014*gun cock*\u2060\u2014have arms if you're gonna pull up (Skrrt!)\nOh, you run the streets, huh?\nNow you wanna come and fuck with me, huh?\nThis little cock-sucker, he must be feelin' himself\nHe wants to keep up his tough demeanour\nSo he does a feature, decides to team up with N9na (Yeah)\nBut next time you don't gotta use Tech N9ne\nIf you wanna come at me with a sub, Machine Gun\nAnd I'm talkin' to you\nBut you already know who the fuck you are, Kelly\nI don't use sublims and sure as fuck don't sneak-diss\nBut keep commenting on my daughter Hailie\nI keep on telling motherfuckers\nBut, just in case you forgot really and need Ja memories jarred like strawberry or pineapple apricot jelly\nI respond rarely, but this time Shady 'bout to sound off\nLike a fuckin' cocked semi-Glock Demigod\nLet me put a fuckin' silencer on this little\nNon-threatening blond fairy cornball takin' shots at me\nYou're not ready, fool, break yourself like Rock Steady Crew\nObviously, I'm not getting through\nWe can get it poppin' like Redenbach, letting off like Remy Ma\nHeavy artille\u2014ry, Godzilla harsh with a hard shell\nWith a motherfucking heart bigger than Bizarre's belly\nOnly time you'll ever say I lost\nYou'll be talkin' 'bout Fetty Wap, better call Diddy\nJust to try to get me off of ya\nBetter hope I don't call Trick Trick\nBitch, this shit don't fly in our city\nPunk, you don't disrespect OGs, R.I.P. Prodigy\nSold Dre my soul and then told him the moment he signed me\nThat I'd be the most hated, though made it\nSo that there's no shame, it's okay to own it\n'Cause life is a bitch, she's a bow-legged ho\nBut now those days are over\nI Harvey Weinstein a bathrobe hanging open\nMy code name is groper, I role play with lotion\nI fucked on the world then I throw away the Trojan\nOld lederhosen with home-made explosives\nI'll blow eighty holes in you\nDon't make me go in, I O. J. the flows\nAnd I'm insult to injury, Rolaids to Goldman\nI'm throat spray and Motrin, I throated Nicole\nAs they both there to choke and my whole blade is soakin'\nA double-edge sword, it cuts both ways, I poke and\nI stick and I turn in a rotating motion\nInvisible with the pen, I'm at the pinnacle to sick individuals\nStick my dick and put the tip in at minimal\nI'm fuckin' these syllables, I let 'em lick on my genitals\nI'm a fucking invincible, indefensible, despicable, difficult prick\nA little bit unpredictable, I spit the formidable\nThat you bitches fuckin' with, the original\nI consider me and Nickel identical ('Dentical!)\u2014but not us\nThe only thing we have in common's I'm a dick and you suck\nOtherwise one has nothin' to do with the other\nNone come close to skunk, bug, soldier\nTongue, shrub, shoulder, one month older\nSponge, mug, folder, nun, rug, holster\nLug nut, coaster, lung, jug, roaster\nYoung Thug poster, unplugged toaster (Yeah!)\nThat's how much we have in common (Yah!)\nThat's how much we have in common (Woah!)\nUp on this mic when we're on it (Yah)\nThat's how much we have in common (Yeah!)\nThat's how much we have in common (Woo!)\nThat's how much we have in common\nWe are not alike, there's nada like us\u2014\n(Man, fuck this shit, let's go)"}
{"text":"Now this shit's about to kick off, this party looks wack\nLet's take it back to straight hip-hop and start it from scratch\nI'm 'bout to bloody this track up, everybody get back\nThat's why my pen needs a pad, 'cause my rhymes on the rag\nJust like I did with addiction, I'm 'bout to kick it\nLike a magician, critics I turn to crickets\nGot 'em still on the fence whether to picket\nBut quick to get it impaled when I tell 'em, \"Stick it!\"\nSo sick, I'm looking pale\u2014wait, that's my pigment\n'Bout to go ham, ya bish, shout out to Kendrick\nLet's bring it back to that vintage Slim, bitch!\nThe art of MCing mixed with da Vinci and MC Ren\nAnd I don't mean Stimpy's friend, bitch\nBeen Public Enemy since you thought PE was gym, bitch\n\nKick your shoes off, let your hair down\n(And go berserk) All night long\nGrow your beard out, just weird out\n(And go berserk) All night long\n\nWe're gonna rock this house until we knock it down\nSo turn the volume loud\n'Cause it's mayhem 'til the A.M\nSo, baby, make just like K-Fed\nAnd let yourself go, let yourself go\nSay, \"Fuck it!\" before we kick the bucket\nLife's too short to not go for broke\nSo everybody, everybody (Go berserk)\nGrab your vial, yeah\nYou might also like\nGuess it's just the way that I'm dressed, ain't it?\nKhakis pressed, Nike shoes crispy and fresh laced\nSo I guess it ain't that aftershave\nOr cologne that made 'em just faint\nPlus I showed up with a coat fresher than wet paint\nSo if love is a chess game, check mate\nBut girl, your body's bangin', jump me in, dang, bang-bang\nYes siree 'Bob', I was thinking the same thang\nSo come get on this Kid's rock, baw with da baw, dang-dang\nPow-p-p-p-pow, chica, pow, chica, wow-wow\nGot your gal blowin' up a valve, v-v-valve-valve\nAin't slowin' it down, throw in the towel, t-t-towel-towel\nDumb it down, I don't know how, huh-huh, how-how\nAt least I know that I don't know\nQuestion is, are you bozos smart enough to feel stupid?\nHope so, now ho\n\nKick your shoes off, let your hair down\n(And go berserk) All night long\nGrow your beard out, just weird out\n(And go berserk) All night long\n\nWe're gonna rock this house until we knock it down\nSo turn the volume loud\n'Cause it's mayhem 'til the A.M\nSo crank the bass up like crazy\nAnd let yourself go, let yourself go\nSay, \"Fuck it!\" before we kick the bucket\nLife's too short to not go for broke\nSo everybody, everybody (Go berzerk)\nGet your vinyls\n\nAnd they say that love is powerful as cough syrup in styrofoam\nAll I know is I fell asleep and woke up in that Monte Carlo\nWith the ugly Kardashian, Lamar, oh\nSorry, yo\u2014we done both set the bar low\nFar as hard drugs are though, that's the past\nBut I done did enough codeine to knock Future into tomorrow\nAnd girl, I ain't got no money to borrow\nBut I am tryin' to find a way to get you alone: car note\nOh, Marshall Mathers\nShithead with a potty mouth, get the bar of soap lathered\nKangol's and Carheartless Cargos\nGirl, you're fixin' to get your heart broke\nDon't be absurd, ma'am, you birdbrain, baby\nI ain't called anybody baby since Birdman, unless you're a swallow (Ha-ha!)\nWord, Rick? (Word, man, you heard)\nBut don't get discouraged, girl\nThis is your jam, unless you got toe jam\n\nKick your shoes off, let your hair down\n(And go berserk) All night long\nGrow your beard out, just weird out\n(And go berserk) All night long\nWe're gonna rock this house until we knock it down\nSo turn the volume loud\n'Cause it's mayhem 'til the A.M\nSo, baby, make just like K-Fed\nAnd let yourself go, let yourself go\nSay, \"Fuck it!\" before we kick the bucket\nLife's too short to not go for broke\nSo everybody, everybody (Go berserk)\nGrab your vial, yeah\n\nWe're gonna rock this house until we knock it down\nSo turn the volume loud\n'Cause it's mayhem 'til the A.M\nSo crank the bass up like crazy\nAnd let yourself go, let yourself go\nSay, \"Fuck it!\" before we kick the bucket\nLife's too short to not go for broke\nSo everybody, everybody (Go berzerk)\nGet your vials"}
{"text":"(Photoshoot!)\nYou know, everybody's been tellin' me\nWhat they think about me for the last few months\nIt's too loud\nMaybe it's time I tell 'em what I think about them\nCan't hear it coming down the hallway stairs from the parking lot\nIt's too loud\nThree's not a crowd all up in it\nSlow fire\nDon't fall on my face\nDon't fall on my faith, oh\nDon't fall on my fate\nDon't fall on my faith, oh\nDon't fall on my fate\nDon't fall on my\u2013\n\nGotta concentrate, against the clock I race\nGot no time to waste, I'm already late, I got a marathoner's pace\nWent from addict to a workaholic, word to Dr. Dre\nIn that first marijuana tape\u2014guess I got a chronic case (Yeah)\nAnd I ain't just blowin' smoke, 'less it's in your mama's face\nI know this time Paul and Dre\nThey won't tell me what not to say (Nope!)\nAnd though me and my party days\nHave all pretty much parted ways\nYou'd swear to God I forgot I'm the guy that made \"Not Afraid\" (Yah)\nOne last time for Charlamagne\nIf my response is late, it's just how long it takes\nTo hit my fuckin' radar, I'm so far away (Woo)\nThese rappers are like Hunger Games\nOne minute, they're mockin' JAY (Yeah)\nNext minute, they get their style from Migos or they copy Drake\nMaybe I just don't know when to turn around and walk away\nBut all the hate, I call it Walk-on-Water-Gate\nI've had as much as I can tolerate\nI'm sick and tired of waitin', I done lost my patience\nI can take all of you motherfuckers on at once (Yeah!)\nYou wanted Shady? You got him!\nYou might also like\nDon't fall on my face (Yeah)\nDon't fall on my faith, oh\nDon't fall on my fate (Line 'em up!)\nDon't fall on my faith, oh (Rrr!)\nDon't fall on my fate (Ha)\n\nSomebody tell Budden before I snap, he better fasten it\nOr have his body bag get zipped\nThe closest thing he's had to hits is smackin' bitches (Pump it up!)\nAnd don't make me have to give it back to Akademiks\nSay this shit is trash again, I'll have you twisted\nLike you had it when you thought you had me slippin' at the telly (Yeah)\nEven when I'm gettin' brain, you'll never catch me with a thot\nLacking with it, \"He ain't spittin' like this on his last shit\"\nHo, you better go back and listen\nYou know me better, thinkin' I'll slow or let up\nCall it trap 'cause it's a total setup\nHopin' that you rappers fall in that\nDre said, \"Hold your head up!\" (Huh?)\u2014Kathy Griffin\nStackin' ammunition, slap the clip in, cock it back on competition\nThis is how I shot ahead (Pew)\u2014Gabby Gifford\nMy attack is vicious, Jack the Ripper, back in business\nTyler create nothin', I see why you called yourself a ******, bitch\nIt's not just 'cause you lack attention\nIt's because you worship D12's balls, you're sack-religious\nIf you're gonna critique me\nYou better at least be as good or better\nGet Earl the Hooded Sweater\nWhatever his name is to help you put together\nSome words, more than just two letters\nThe fans waited for this moment like that feature\nWhen I stole the show (Ha), sorry if I took forever (Haha)\nDon't fall on my face (Yeah)\nDon't fall on my faith, oh (I won't)\nDon't fall on my fate (Line 'em up!)\nDon't fall on my faith, oh (Haha)\nDon't fall on my fate (It's too easy)\n\nJust remember, I was here before you\nAnd I'll be here after you make your run-in for you\nDetractors, I'ma have to fuck Pitchfork with a corkscrew (Ah!)\nJust what the doctor ordered\nRevenge is the best medicine (Yeah)\nIncrease the dose, from least to most\nAnd then tell the Grammys to go and fuck themselves\nThey suck the blood from all the biggest artists like some leeches\nSo they nominate 'em, get 'em there, get a name to MC the show\nEvery parasite needs a host (Ha-ha)\nThen give Album of the Year to somebody that no one's ever even heard of\nAll I know is I wrote every single word of everything I ever murdered\nTime to separate the sheep from goats (Yeah)\nAnd I got no faith in your writers, I don't believe in ghosts\nWhen rap needed it most, I was that wing and a prayer (Huh)\nA beacon of hope, put a B-I-R-D in the air\nSomewhere some kid is bumpin' this while he lip-syncs in the mirror\nThat's who I'm doin' it for, the rest I don't really even care\nBut you would think I'm carryin' a Oxford dictionary in my pocket\nHow I'm buryin' these artists\nOn a scale of 'turnt' you're 'minus'\nMine says 'very', yours says 'hardly'\nAnd what's scary is you prob'ly can compare me to your car 'cause I'm just barely gettin' started (Woo)\nAnd far as Lord Jamar, you better leave me the Hell alone\nOr I'll show you an Elvis clone\nWalk up in this house you own, thrust my pelvic bone\nUse your telephone and go fetch me the remote\nPut my feet up and just make myself at home (Yeah)\nI belong here, clown! Don't tell me 'bout the culture!\nI inspired the Hopsins, the Logics, the Coles, the\nSeans, the K-Dots, the 5'9\"s, and oh\nBrought the world 50 Cent, you did squat, piss and moan\nBut I'm not gonna fall, bitch! (Yeah)\nIt's too loud\nCan't hear it coming down the hallway stairs from the parking lot\nIt's too loud\nThree\u2019s not a crowd all up in it\nSlow fire"}
{"text":"Now, everybody from the 313\nPut your motherfuckin' hands up and follow me!\nEverybody from the 313\nPut your motherfuckin' hands up! Look, look\nNow, while he stands tough\nNotice that this man did not have his hands up\nThis Free World's got you gassed up\nNow, who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?\nOne, two, three, and to the four\nOne Pac, two Pac, three Pac, four\nFour Pac, three Pac, two Pac, one\nYou're Pac, he's Pac, no Pac, none\nThis guy ain't no motherfuckin' MC\nI know everything he's 'bout to say against me\nI am white, I am a fucking bum\nI do live in a trailer with my mom\nMy boy Future is an Uncle Tom\nI do got a dumb friend named Cheddar Bob\nWho shoots himself in his leg with his own gun\nI did get jumped by all six of you chumps\nAnd Wink did fuck my girl\nI'm still standin' here screaming, \"Fuck the Free World!\"\nDon't ever try to judge me, dude\nYou don't know what the fuck I've been through\nBut I know something about you\nYou went to Cranbrook, that's a private school\nWhat's the matter, dawg? You embarrassed?\nThis guy's a gangster? His real name's Clarence\nAnd Clarence lives at home with both parents\nAnd Clarence' parents have a real good marriage\nThis guy don't wanna battle, he's shook\n'Cause ain't no such things as halfway crooks\nHe's scared to death, he's scared to look\nAt his fucking yearbook; fuck Cranbrook!\nFuck a beat, I'll go a cappella\nFuck a Papa Doc, fuck a clock, fuck a trailer\nFuck everybody! Fuck y'all if you doubt me!\nI'm a piece of fucking white trash, I say it proudly\nAnd fuck this battle, I don't wanna win, I'm outtie\nHere, tell these people something they don't know about me\nYou might also like\nYo..."}
{"text":"Mhmmm *inhales*\nYou high, baby?\nYeah, hahahaha\nYeah?\nTalk to me\nYou want me to tell you something?\nUh-huh\nI know what you wanna hear\n\n'Cause I know you want me, baby, I think I want you too\nI think I love you, baby, I think I love you too (Oh-ooh)\nI'm here to save you, girl, come be in Shady's world (Ooh-ooh, ooh)\nI wanna grow together, let's let our love unfurl\nYou know you want me, baby, you know I want you too\nThey call me Superman, I'm here to rescue you\nI wanna save you, girl, come be in Shady's world (Ooh-ooh)\nOh boy, you drive me crazy, bitch, you make me hurl\n\nThey call me Superman\nLeap tall hoes in a single bound\nI'm single now: got no ring on this finger now\nI'd never let another chick bring me down\nIn a relationship; save it, bitch!\nBabysit? You make me sick\nSuperman ain't savin' shit\nGirl, you can jump on Shady's dick\nStraight from the hip, cut to the chase\nI tell a muhfuckin' slut to her face\nPlay no games, say no names\nEver since I broke up with what's-her-face\nI'm a different man, kiss my ass\nKiss my lips? Bitch, why ask?\nKiss my dick, get my cash?\nI'd rather have you whip my ass\nDon't put out? I'll put you out\nWon't get out? I'll push you out\nPuss blew out, poppin' shit\nWouldn't piss on fire to put you out\nAm I too nice? Buy you ice?\nBitch, if you died, wouldn't buy you life\nWhat, you tryin' to be my new wife?\nWhat, you Mariah? Fly through twice\nYou might also like\nBut I do know one thing though\nBitches, they come, they go\nSaturday through Sunday, Monday (Yeah-yeah)\nMonday through Sunday, yo\nMaybe I'll love you one day\nMaybe we'll someday grow\n'Til then just sit your drunk ass on that fuckin' runway, ho\n\n\u2018Cause I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, your Superman, your Superman\n\nDon't get me wrong, I love these hoes\nIt's no secret, everybody knows\nYeah, we fucked\u2014bitch, so what?\nThat's about as far as your buddy goes\nWe'll be friends, I'll call you again\nI'll chase you around every bar you attend\nNever know what kinda car I'll be in\nWe'll see how much you'll be partyin' then\nYou don't want that, neither do I\nI don't wanna flip when I see you with guys\nToo much pride, between you and I\nNot a jealous man, but females lie\nBut I guess that's just what sluts do\nHow could it ever be just us two?\nI'd never love you enough to trust you\nWe just met and I just fucked you\nBut I do know one thing though\nBitches, they come, they go\nSaturday through Sunday, Monday\nMonday through Sunday, yo\nMaybe I'll love you one day\nMaybe we'll someday grow\n'Til then just sit your drunk ass on that fuckin' runway, ho\n\n\u2018Cause I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, your Superman, your Superman\n\u2018Cause I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, your Superman, your Superman\n\nI know you want me, baby, I think I want you too\nI think I love you, baby, I think I love you too\nI'm here to save you, girl, come be in Shady's world\nI wanna grow together, let's let our love unfurl\nYou know you want me, baby, you know I want you too\nThey call me Superman, I'm here to rescue you\nI wanna save you, girl, come be in Shady's world\nOh boy, you drive me crazy, bitch, you make me hurl\nFirst thing you say: I'm not fazed\nI hang around big stars all day\nI don't see what the big deal is anyway\nYou're just plain old Marshall to me\nOoh yeah, girl, run that game\nHailie Jade, I love that name\nLove that tattoo, what's that say?\n\"Rot In Pieces,\" uh, that's great\nFirst off, you don't know Marshall\nAt all, so don't grow partial\nThat's ammo for my arsenal\nI'll slap you off that bar stool\nThere goes another lawsuit\nLeave handprints all across you\nGood Lordy, whoadie\nYou must be gone off that water bottle\nYou want what you can't have\nOoh girl, that's too damn bad\nDon't touch what you can't grab\nEnd up with two backhands\nPut anthrax on a Tampax\nAnd slap you 'til you can't stand\nGirl, you just blew your chance\nDon't mean to ruin your plans\n\nBut I do know one thing though\nBitches, they come, they go\nSaturday through Sunday, Monday\nMonday through Sunday, yo\nMaybe I'll love you one day\nMaybe we'll someday grow\n'Til then just sit your drunk ass on that fuckin' runway, ho\n\n\u2018Cause I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, your Superman, your Superman\n\u2018Cause I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, your Superman, your Superman\n\nI know you want me, baby, I think I want you too\nI think I love you, baby, I think I love you too\nI'm here to save you, girl, come be in Shady's world\nI wanna grow together, let's let our love unfurl\nYou know you want me, baby, you know I want you too\nThey call me Superman, I'm here to rescue you\nI wanna save you, girl, come be in Shady's world\nOh boy, you drive me crazy, bitch, you make me hurl\n\n\u2018Cause I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, your Superman, your Superman\n\u2018Cause I can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nI can't be your Superman, can't be your Superman\nCan't be your Superman, your Superman, your Superman"}
{"text":"Just gonna stand there and watch me burn?\nWell, that's all right because I like the way it hurts\nJust gonna stand there and hear me cry?\nWell, that's all right because I love the way you lie\nI love the way you lie\n\nI can't tell you what it really is, I can only tell you what it feels like\nAnd right now, there's a steel knife in my windpipe\nI can't breathe, but I still fight while I can fight\nAs long as the wrong feels right, it's like I'm in flight\nHigh off her love, drunk from her hate\nIt's like I'm huffin' paint and I love her, the more I suffer, I suffocate\nAnd right before I'm about to drown, she resuscitates me\nShe fuckin' hates me, and I love it \u2014 \"Wait!\nWhere you going?\" \u2014 \"I'm leaving you!\" \u2014 \"No, you ain't!\nCome back!\" \u2014 We're runnin' right back, here we go again\nIt's so insane, 'cause when it's goin' good, it's goin' great\nI'm Superman with the wind at his back, she's Lois Lane\nBut when it's bad, it's awful, I feel so ashamed\nI snapped, \"Who's that dude?\", I don't even know his name\nI laid hands on her, I'll never stoop so low again\nI guess I don't know my own strength\n\nJust gonna stand there and watch me burn?\nWell, that's all right because I like the way it hurts\nJust gonna stand there and hear me cry?\nWell, that's all right because I love the way you lie\nI love the way you lie\nI love the way you lie\nYou might also like\nYou ever love somebody so much you can barely breathe when you're with 'em?\nYou meet, and neither one of you even know what hit 'em\nGot that warm fuzzy feelin', yeah, them chills, used to get 'em\nNow you're gettin' fuckin' sick of lookin' at 'em?\nYou swore you'd never hit 'em, never do nothin' to hurt 'em\nNow you're in each other's face\nSpewin' venom in your words when you spit 'em\nYou push, pull each other's hair, scratch, claw, bit 'em\nThrow 'em down, pin 'em\nSo lost in the moments when you're in 'em\nIt's the rage that took over, it controls you both\nSo they say you're best to go your separate ways\nGuess that they don't know ya\n'Cause today, that was yesterday, yesterday is over\nIt's a different day, sound like broken records playin' over\nBut you promised her, next time you'll show restraint\nYou don't get another chance, life is no Nintendo game\nBut you lied again\nNow you get to watch her leave out the window\nGuess that's why they call it window pane\nJust gonna stand there and watch me burn?\nWell, that's all right because I like the way it hurts\nJust gonna stand there and hear me cry?\nWell, that's all right because I love the way you lie\nI love the way you lie\nI love the way you lie\nNow, I know we said things, did things that we didn't mean\nThen we fall back into the same patterns, same routine\nBut your temper's just as bad as mine is, you're the same as me\nWhen it comes to love, you're just as blinded, baby, please\nCome back, it wasn't you, baby, it was me\nMaybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems\nMaybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano\nAll I know is I love you too much to walk away though\nCome inside, pick up your bags off the sidewalk\nDon't you hear sincerity in my voice when I talk?\nTold you this is my fault, look me in the eyeball\nNext time I'm pissed, I'll aim my fist at the drywall\nNext time? There won't be no next time!\nI apologize, even though I know it's lies\nI'm tired of the games, I just want her back, I know I'm a liar\nIf she ever tries to fuckin' leave again, I'ma tie her\nTo the bed and set this house on fire, just gonna\u2014\nJust gonna stand there and watch me burn?\nWell, that's all right because I like the way it hurts\nJust gonna stand there and hear me cry?\nWell, that's all right because I love the way you lie\nI love the way you lie\nI love the way you lie"}
{"text":"(Fack) Okay, (Fack) how do I say this? (Fack)\nLast year (Fack) didn't work out so well for me (Fack)\n(Fack last year!) (Fack) (Last year can eat a dick!)\n2018, (Fack) well (Fack)\n\nHah, yeah, I'm a fuckin' kamikaze crashin' into everything\nYou beat me, Islamic Nazi, that means there is no such thing\nI've been goin' for your jugular since Craig G \"Duck Alert\"\nWedgie in my underwear, the whole bed sheet and the comforter\nStuck up in my rectal crack, kiss my disrespectful ass\nI'll ride through your cul-de-sac\nWindow cracked, bumpin' your reference tracks\nY-You collaborative effort rap, I-I have never said his raps\nO-Overstayed my welcome, stepped in crap\nAnd ruined your welcome mat\nSo spit that shit from the heart, you didn't write like you wrote it (Wrote it) (Yeah)\nWhile I teabag the microphone 'cause I go nuts on it (On it) (Yeah)\nLike a fighter jet lined with explosives that'll strike any moment\nHeaded right at opponents and I'm the fuckin' pilot that flown it\nI'm 'bout to\u2014\n\nSmash into everyone, crash into everything\nBack and I've just begun, \"FACK\" 2017\nFack, fack on everyone\nFack, fack on everyone\nFack, fack on everyone\nI'm a Kamikaze, gonna\nSmash into everyone, crash like an F-15\nDamage already done, y'all shoulda let me be\nFack, fack on everyone\nFack, fack on everyone\nFack, fack on everyone\nI'm a Kamikaze, gonna\nYou might also like\nI turned to rap 'cause it made me feel tough when I wasn't (Wasn't)\nFrom the moment I heard rappers cussin', I was in (Was in)\nWhich is why I identify with the guy\nWho I was invented by, Dre's Frankenstein\nEnergized like a nine volt\nIce cold like Snake Eyes, twice in a row on a dice roll\nBut if the only reason I blowed is 'cause I'm white though\nWhy don't every other white rapper sell what I sold? (Ooh)\nKamikaze pilot, I wrote my suicide note\nHere come the guys in white coats tryin' to stop me\n'Fore I jump behind the controls and try to fly into foes\n'Cause I'm takin' y'all with me when I go cyclone\nI don't think this typhoon's letting up any time soon, here I go\nEyes closed, blindfolded, I'm 'bout to\u2014\n\nSmash into everyone, crash into everything\nBack and I've just begun, \"FACK\" 2017\nFack, fack on everyone\nFack, fack on everyone\nFack, fack on everyone\nI'm a Kamikaze, gonna\nSmash into everyone, crash like an F-15\nDamage already done, y'all should'a let me be\nFack, fack on everyone\nFack, fack on everyone\nFack, fack on everyone\nI'm a Kamikaze, gonna\nSmash\nKamikaze, kamikaze\nKami, kami-kamikaze, kamikaze, kami-kamikaze (kamikaze)\nTake a look at what I've done\n\nI heard your freestyle on Shade 45, that shit was embarrassing\nThere is no way we ever air that shit again, I guarantee that\nWait, that shit was so ass it's somethin' we wouldn't dare re-air it (Get it)\nThe shit's embarrassing as me rear-ending Tara Reid bare\nIn my therapy chair, my dick is the hair length of Cher\nEach nut is the chair width of an Acorn stairlift, beware of me\nLyrically I'm terrible, better get your lyrics prepared\nRichard Ramirez is here, serial killin' every beat there is\n\nWait, wait, got the eeriest feelin'\nSomethin' evil is lurkin', I'm no conspiracy theorist\nBut somethin' here is a foot\u2014oh yeah, it's my dick\nGet the measurin' stick (What?), 12 inches of wood (Haha)\nWait, but I've been goin' for your jugular since Craig G \"Duck Alert\"\nAnd I've come to pay respects\n'Cause if you sleep you're fucked\u2014other words\nYou get laid to rest and I hope your butt is hurt\nPut me on a track, I go cray on it like a color book\nYou got some views, but you're still below me\nMine are higher, so when you compare our views, you get overlooked\nAnd I don't say the hook unless I wrote the hook\nAnd now I'm just freestylin' in the vocal booth\nAnd you know I've always spoke the truth\nYou're lyin' through your teeth so much you broke a tooth\nAnd it ain't somethin' I need a phone to do\nWhen I say I can't wait 'til I get ahold of you\nAnd I don't know what I'm s'posed to do\nLine up the rappers, take my pic like a photo shoot"}
{"text":"I walk on water\nBut I ain't no Jesus\nI walk on water\nBut only when it freezes (Fuck)\n\nWhy are expectations so high? Is it the bar I set?\nMy arms, I stretch, but I can\u2019t reach\nA far cry from it, or it's in my grasp, but as\nSoon as I grab, squeeze\nI lose my grip like the flying trapeze\nInto the dark I plummet, now the sky's blackening\nI know the mark\u2019s high, butter\u2013\nFlies rip apart my stomach\nKnowin' that no matter what bars I come with\nYou're gonna harp, gripe, and\nThat's a hard Vicodin to swallow, so I scrap these\nAs pressure increases like khakis\nI feel the ice cracking, because\u2014\n\nI walk on water\nBut I ain't no Jesus\n(It's the curse of the\u2014, it's the curse of the\u2014)\nI walk on water (Shit)\nBut only when it freezes\nYou might also like\nIt's the curse of the standard, that the first of the Mathers disc set\nAlways in search of the verse that I haven\u2019t spit yet\nWill this step just be another misstep\nTo tarnish whatever the legacy, love or respect\nI\u2019ve garnered? The rhyme has to be perfect, the delivery flawless\nAnd it always feels like I'm hittin\u2019 the mark\n'Til I go sit in the car, listen and pick it apart\nLike, \"This shit is garbage!\"\nGod's given me all this, still I feel no different regardless\nKids look to me as a god, this is retarded\nIf only they knew, it's a facade and it\u2019s exhaustive\nAnd I try not to listen to nonsense\nBut if you bitches are tryin' to strip me of my confidence\nMission accomplished\nI'm not God-sent, Nas, Rakim, 'Pac, B.I.G., James Todd Smith\nAnd I'm not Prince, so\u2026\n\nI walk on water\nBut I ain't no Jesus\nI walk on water\n(It's true, I'm a Rubik's\u2014, it's true\u2014)\nBut only when it freezes\n(It's true\u2014)\n'Cause I'm only human, just like you\nMaking my mistakes, oh if you only knew\nI don't think you should believe in me the way that you do\n'Cause I'm terrified to let you down, oh\n\nIt's true, I'm a Rubik's\u2014a beautiful mess\nAt times juvenile, yes, I goof and I jest\nA flawed human, I guess\nBut I'm doin' my best to not ruin your ex\u2013\nPectations and meet 'em, but first\nThe \"Speedom\" verse, now Big Sean\nHe's goin' too fast, is he gonna shout or curse out his mom?\nThere was a time I had the world by the balls, eatin' out my palm\nEvery album song I was spazzin' the fuck out on\nAnd now I'm gettin' clowned and frowned on\nBut the only one who's looking down on\nMe that matters now's DeShaun\nAm I lucky to be around this long?\nBegs the question though\nEspecially after the methadone\nAs yesterday fades and the Dresden home\nIs burnt to the ground and all that's left of my house is lawn\nThe crowds are gone\nAnd it's time to wash out the blonde\nSales decline, the curtain's drawn\nThey're closin' the set, I'm still pokin' my head from out behind\nAnd everyone who has doubt, remind\nNow take your best rhyme, outdo it, now do it a thousand times\nNow let 'em tell ya the world no longer cares\nOr gives a fuck about your rhymes\nAnd as I grow outta sight, outta mind, I might go outta mine\n'Cause how do I ever let this mic go without a fight\nWhen I made a fuckin' tightrope outta twine?\nBut when I do fall from these heights though, I'll be fine\nI won't pout or cry or spiral down or whine\nBut I'll decide if it's my final bow this time around, 'cause\u2014\nI walk on water\nBut I ain't no Jesus\nI walk on water\nBut only when it freezes\n\n'Cause I'm only human, just like you\nI've been making my mistakes, oh if you only knew\nI don't think you should believe in me the way that you do\n'Cause I'm terrified to let you down, oh\nIf I walked on water, I would drown\n\n'Cause I'm just a man\nBut as long as I got a mic, I'm godlike\nSo me and you are not alike\nBitch, I wrote \"Stan\""}
{"text":"It's like I'm in the dirt, diggin' up old hurt\nTried everything to get my mind off you, it won't work\nAll it takes is one song on the radio, you're\nRight back on it, reminding me all over again how you fuckin' just brushed me off and left me so burnt\nSpent a lot of time tryna soul search\nMaybe I needed to grow up a little first\nWell, looks like I hit a growth spurt\nBut I'm coming for closure\nDon't suppose an explanation I'm owed\nFor the way that you turned your back on me\nJust when I may have needed you most\nOh, you thought it was over?\nYou could just close the\nChapter and go about your life like it was nothing\nYou ruined mine, but you seem to be doing fine\nWell, I've never recovered\nBut tonight, bet you that what you're\n'Bout to go through's tougher than anything I ever have suffered\nCan't think of a better way to define poetic justice\nCan I hold grudges? Mind saying, \"Let it go, fuck this!\"\nHeart's saying, \"I will, once I bury this bitch alive\nHide the shovel and then drive off in the sunset\"\nYou might also like\nI flee the scene (The scene) like it was my last ride\nYou see right through (Right through)\nOh, you had me pegged the first time\nYou can see the truth (The truth)\nBut it's easier to justify what's bad is good\nAnd I hate to be the bad guy (The bad guy)\nI just hate to be the bad guy (The bad guy)\nFollow me (Follow me), I ruh-uh-un, follow me, I ruh-uh-un\nI just hate to be the bad\u2013\nAnd to think I used to think you was the shit, bitch\nTo think it was you at one time I worshipped? Shit\nThink you can hurt people and just keep getting away with it?\nNot this time, you better go and get the sewing kit, bitch\nFinish this stitch, so you can reap what you sew, nitwit\nThought some time would pass and I'd forget it? Forget it\nYou left our family in shambles\nYou expect me to just get over him, pretend he never existed?\nMay be gone but he's not forgotten\nAnd don't think 'cause he's been out the picture so long that I've stopped the plotting and still ain't coming to get ya\nYou're wrong and that shit was rotten\nAnd the way you played him's same shit you did to me, cold\nHave you any idea the shit that I've gone through?\nFeelings I harbor? All this pent-up resentment I hold on to?\nNot once you call to ask me how I'm doing\nLetters, you don't respond to 'em\nFuck it, I'm coming to see you\nAnd gee, who better to talk to than you?\nThe cause of my problems\nMy life is garbage, and I'm 'bout to take it out on ya\nPoof, then I'm gone, voosh\nI flee the scene (The scene) like it was my last ride\nYou see right through (Right through)\nOh, you had me pegged the first time\nYou can see the truth (The truth)\nBut it's easier to justify what's bad is good\nAnd I hate to be the bad guy (The bad guy)\nI just hate to be the bad guy (The bad guy)\nFollow me (Follow me), I ruh-uh-un, follow me, I ruh-uh-un\nI just hate to be the bad guy\nFollow me, I ruh-uh-un, follow me, I ruh-uh-un\n\nI've been drivin' around your side of this town\nLike nine frickin' hours and forty-five minutes now\nFinally, I found your new address, park in your drive\nFeel like I've been waitin' on this moment all of my life\nAnd it's now arrived and my mouth is full of saliva\nMy knife is out and I'm duckin' on the side of your house\nSee, it's sad it came to this point\nSuch a disappointment I had to make this appointment\nTo come and see ya, but I ain't here for your empathy\nI don't need your apology or your friendship or sympathy\nIt's revenge that I seek\nSo I sneak vengefully, and treat your bedroom window\nLike I reach my full potential\u2014I peeked (Haha)\nContinue to peep, still bent low, then keep\nTapping the glass lightly then start to crescendo, sneak\nAll the way 'round to the back porch\nMan, door handles unlocked, shouldn't be that easy to do this\nYou don't plan for intruders beforehand?\nSurprised to see me? Cat got your tongue?\nGag, chloroform rag, dag, almost hack-up a lung\nLike you picked an axe up and swung, stick to the core plan\nDragged to the back of a trunk by one of your fans\nIrony's spectacular, huh? Now who's a faggot, you punk?\nAnd here's your Bronco hat, you can have that shit back 'cause they suck\nIt's just me, you, and the music now, Slim, I hope you hear it\nWe're in a car right now\u2014wait, here comes my favorite lyric\n\"I'm the bad guy who makes fun of people that die\"\nAnd hey, here's a sequel to my Mathers LP just to try to get people to buy\nHow's this for a publicity stunt? This should be fun\nLast album now 'cause after this you'll be officially done\nEminem killed by M and M, Matthew Mitchell\nBitch, I even have your initials\nI initially was gonna bury you next to my brother, but fuck it\nSince you're in love with your city so much, I figured, what the fuck, the best place you could be buried alive is right here\nTwo more exits, time is quite near\nHope we don't get stopped, no license I fear\nThat sirens I hear?\nGuess ninety on the freeway wasn't the brightest idea\nAs cops appear in my driver's side mirror\n(Oh, God! Police! Agh!)\nHope Foxtrot gets an aerial shot of your burial plot, at least\nNew plan, Stan!\nSlim: \"Chauvinist pig drove in this big Lincoln Town Car\"\nWell, gotta go, almost at the bridge\nHa ha, big bro, it's for you; Slim, this is for him\nAnd Frank Ocean; oh, hope you can swim good\nNow say you hate homos again!\nPart 2: Produced by StreetRunner\nI also represent anyone on the receiving end of those jokes you offend\nI'm the nightmare you fell asleep and then woke up still in\nI'm your karma closin' in with each stroke of a pen\nPerfect time to have some remorse to show for your sin\nNope, it's hopeless, I'm that denial that you're hopelessly in\nWhen they say all of this is approaching its end\nBut you refuse to believe that it's over, here we go all over again\nBack's to the wall, I'm stackin' up all them odds\nToilets clogged, yeah, 'cause I'm talkin' a lot of shit, but I'm backin' it all up\nBut in my head there's a voice in the back and it hollers\nAfter the track is demolished\nI am your lack of a conscience\nI'm the ringing in your ears\nI'm the polyps on the back of your tonsils\nEating your vocal cords after your concerts\nI'm your time that's almost up that you haven't acknowledged\nGrab for some water\nBut I'm that pill that's too jagged to swallow\nI'm the bullies you hate that you became with every faggot you slaughtered comin' back on ya\nEvery woman you insult, batter, but the double-standard you have when it comes to your daughters\nI represent everything you take for granted\n'Cause Marshall Mathers, the rapper's persona\nIs half a facade, and Matthew and Stan's just symbolic\nOf you not knowin' what you had 'til it's gone\n'Cause after all the glitz and the glam\nNo more fans that are calling your name\nCameras are off, sad, but it happens to all of them\nI'm the hindsight to say, \"I told you so!\"\nForeshadows of all the things that are to follow\nI'm the future that's here to show you what happens tomorrow\nIf you don't stop after they call ya\nBiggest laughing stock of rap who can't call it quits\nWhen it's time to walk away, I'm every guilt trip\nThe baggage you have, but as you gather up all your possessions\nIf there's anything you have left to say\n'Less it makes an impact then don't bother\nSo 'fore you rest your case better make sure you're packing a wallop (A wallop)\nSo, one last time, I'm back\n'Fore it fades into black and it's all over\nBehold the final chapter in a saga\nTryna recapture that lightning trapped in a bottle\nTwice, the magic that started it all\nTragic portrait of an artist tortured\nTrapped in his own drawings\nTap into thoughts blacker and darker than anything imaginable;\nHere goes a wild stab in the dark\nUh, as we pick up where the last Mathers left off"}
{"text":"Where's my snare?\nI have no snare in my headphones\nThere you go\nYeah\nYo, yo\n\nHave you ever been hated or discriminated against?\nI have, I been protested and demonstrated against\nPicket signs for my wicked rhymes, look at the times\nSick is the mind of the motherfuckin' kid that's behind\nAll this commotion, emotions run deep as oceans, explodin'\nTempers flarin' from parents, just blow 'em off and keep goin'\nNot takin' nothin' from no one, give 'em hell long as I'm breathin'\nKeep kickin' ass in the morning and takin' names in the evenin'\nLeave 'em with a taste as sour as vinegar in they mouth\nSee, they can trigger me, but they'll never figure me out\nLook at me now! I bet you're prolly sick of me now\nAin't you, Mama? I'ma make you look so ridiculous now!\nI'm sorry, Mama\nI never meant to hurt you\nI never meant to make you cry\nBut tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet (One more time!)\nI said I'm sorry, Mama\nI never meant to hurt you\nI never meant to make you cry\nBut tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet (Ha!)\nYou might also like\nI got some skeletons in my closet and I don't know if no one knows it\nSo before they throw me inside my coffin and close it\nI'ma expose it; I'll take you back to '73\nBefore I ever had a multi-platinum-selling CD\nI was a baby, maybe I was just a couple of months\nMy faggot father must've had his panties up in a bunch\n\u2018Cause he split, I wonder if he even kissed me goodbye\nNo, I don't, on second thought, I just fuckin' wished he would die\nI look at Hailie, and I couldn't picture leavin' her side\nEven if I hated Kim, I'd grit my teeth and I'd try\nTo make it work with her at least for Hailie's sake, I maybe made some mistakes\nBut I'm only human, but I'm man enough to face 'em today\nWhat I did was stupid, no doubt it was dumb\nBut the smartest shit I did was take the bullets out of that gun\n\u2018Cause I'da killed 'em, shit, I woulda shot Kim and him both\nIt's my life, I'd like to welcome y'all to The Eminem Show\nI'm sorry, Mama\nI never meant to hurt you\nI never meant to make you cry\nBut tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet (One more time!)\nI said I'm sorry, Mama\nI never meant to hurt you\nI never meant to make you cry\nBut tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet (Uh)\nNow, I would never diss my own mama just to get recognition\nTake a second to listen 'fore you think this record is dissin'\nBut put yourself in my position, just try to envision\nWitnessin' your mama poppin' prescription pills in the kitchen\nBitchin' that someone's always goin' through her purse and shit's missin'\nGoin' through public housing systems, victim of M\u00fcnchausen's Syndrome\nMy whole life I was made to believe I was sick when I wasn't\n'Til I grew up, now I blew up, it makes you sick to your stomach, doesn't it?\nWasn't it the reason you made that CD for me, Ma?\nSo you could try to justify the way you treated me, Ma?\nBut guess what, you're gettin' older now, and it's cold when you're lonely\nAnd Nathan's growin' up so quick, he's gonna know that you're phony\nAnd Hailie's gettin' so big now, you should see her, she's beautiful\nBut you'll never see her, she won't even be at your funeral (Ha-ha!)\nSee, what hurts me the most is you won't admit you was wrong\nBitch, do your song, keep tellin' yourself that you was a mom!\nBut how dare you try to take what you didn't help me to get?!\nYou selfish bitch, I hope you fuckin' burn in hell for this shit!\nRemember when Ronnie died and you said you wished it was me? (Hehe)\nWell, guess what? I am dead\u2014dead to you as can be!\nI'm sorry, Mama\nI never meant to hurt you\nI never meant to make you cry\nBut tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet (One more time!)\nI said I'm sorry, Mama\nI never meant to hurt you\nI never meant to make you cry\nBut tonight I'm cleanin' out my closet"}
{"text":"I'm not afraid (I'm not afraid)\nYeah\nTo take a stand (To take a stand)\nIt's been a ride\nEverybody (Everybody)\nI guess I had to\nCome take my hand (Come take my hand)\nGo to that place to get to this one\nWe'll walk this road together, through the storm\nNow some of you\nWhatever weather, cold or warm\nMight still be in that place\nJust lettin' you know that you're not alone\nIf you're tryna get out\nHolla if you feel like you've been down the same road\nJust follow me, I'll get you there\n\nYou can try and read my lyrics off of this paper before I lay 'em\nBut you won't take the sting out these words before I say 'em\n'Cause ain't no way I'ma let you stop me from causin' mayhem\nWhen I say I'ma do somethin', I do it, I don't give a damn what you think\nI'm doin' this for me, so fuck the world\nFeed it beans, it's gassed up if it thinks it's stoppin' me\nI'ma be what I set out to be, without a doubt, undoubtedly\nAnd all those who look down on me, I'm tearin' down your balcony\nNo ifs, ands or buts, don't try to ask him why or how can he\nFrom Infinite down to the last Relapse album he's\nStill shittin' whether he's on salary, paid hourly\nUntil he bows out or he shits his bowels out of him\nWhichever comes first, for better or worse\nHe's married to the game\nLike a \"fuck you\" for Christmas, his gift is a curse\nForget the Earth, he's got the urge to pull his dick from the dirt\nAnd fuck the whole universe\nYou might also like\nI'm not afraid (I'm not afraid)\nTo take a stand (To take a stand)\nEverybody (Everybody)\nCome take my hand (Come take my hand)\nWe'll walk this road together, through the storm\nWhatever weather, cold or warm\nJust lettin' you know that you're not alone\nHolla if you feel like you've been down the same road\n\nOkay, quit playin' with the scissors and shit, and cut the crap\nI shouldn't have to rhyme these words in a rhythm for you to know it's a wrap\nYou said you was king, you lied through your teeth\nFor that, fuck your feelings\nInstead of gettin' crowned, you're gettin' capped\nAnd to the fans, I'll never let you down again, I'm back\nI promise to never go back on that promise\nIn fact, let's be honest, that last Relapse CD was \"ehh\"\nPerhaps I ran them accents into the ground\nRelax, I ain't goin' back to that now\nAll I'm tryna say is get back, click-clack-blaow!\n'Cause I ain't playin' around\nThere's a game called circle and I don't know how\nI'm way too up to back down\nBut I think I'm still tryna figure this crap out\nThought I had it mapped out\nBut I guess I didn't, this fuckin' black cloud still follows me around\nBut it's time to exorcise these demons\nThese ma'fuckers are doin' jumpin' jacks now\nI'm not afraid (I'm not afraid)\nTo take a stand (To take a stand)\nEverybody (Everybody)\nCome take my hand (Come take my hand)\nWe'll walk this road together, through the storm\nWhatever weather, cold or warm\nJust lettin' you know that you're not alone\nHolla if you feel like you've been down the same road\n\nAnd I just can't keep livin' this way\nSo startin' today\nI'm breakin' out of this cage\nI'm standin' up, I'ma face my demons\nI'm mannin' up, I'ma hold my ground\nI've had enough, now I'm so fed up\nTime to put my life back together right now\n\nIt was my decision to get clean, I did it for me\nAdmittedly I probably did it subliminally for you\nSo I could come back a brand-new me\nYou helped see me through\nAnd don't even realize what you did, 'cause believe me you\nI've been through the wringer\nBut they can do little to the middle finger\nI think I got a tear in my eye, I feel like the king of\nMy world, haters can make like bees with no stingers\nAnd drop dead: no more beef lingers\nNo more drama from now on, I promise\nTo focus solely on handlin' my responsibilities as a father\nSo I solemnly swear to always treat this roof like my daughters and raise it\nYou couldn't lift a single shingle on it\n'Cause the way I feel, I'm strong enough to go to the club\nOr the corner pub and lift the whole liquor counter up\n'Cause I'm raisin' the bar\nI'd shoot for the moon, but I'm too busy gazin' at stars\nI feel amazin', and I'm\u2014\nI'm not afraid (I'm not afraid)\nTo take a stand (To take a stand)\nEverybody (Everybody)\nCome take my hand (Come take my hand)\nWe'll walk this road together, through the storm\nWhatever weather, cold or warm\nJust lettin' you know that you're not alone\nHolla if you feel like you've been down the same road"}
{"text":"Lately I've been hard to reach\nI've been too long on my own\nEverybody has a private world where they can be alone\nAre you calling me?\nAre you tryin' to get through?\nAre you reaching out for me?\nI'm reaching out for you\n\nI'm just so fucking depressed\nI just can't seem to get out this slump\nIf I could just get over this hump\nBut I need something to pull me out this dump\nI took my bruises, took my lumps\nFell down then I got right back up\nBut I need that spark to get psyched back up\nIn order for me to pick the mic back up\nI don't know how or why or when\nI ended up in this position I'm in\nI'm starting to feel distant again\nSo I decided just to pick this pen\nUp and try to make an attempt\nTo vent, but I just can't admit\nOr come to grips with the fact that\nI may be done with rap, I need a new outlet\nAnd I know some shit's so hard to swallow\nBut I just can't sit back and wallow\nIn my own sorrow, but I know one fact:\nI'll be one tough act to follow\nOne tough act to follow\nI'll be one tough act to follow\nHere today, gone tomorrow\nBut you'd have to walk a thousand miles\u2014\nYou might also like\nIn my shoes, just to see\nWhat it's like to be me\nI'll be you, let's trade shoes\nJust to see what it'd be like to\nFeel your pain, you feel mine\nGo inside each other's minds\nJust to see what we find\nLook at shit through each other's eyes\n\nBut don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh\nThey can all get fucked, just stay true to you, so\nDon't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh\nThey can all get fucked, just stay true to you, so\n\nI think I'm startin' to lose my sense of humor\nEverything's so tense and gloom\nI almost feel like I gotta check the temperature\nOf the room, just as soon as\nI walk in, it's like all eyes on me\nSo I try to avoid any eye contact\n'Cause if I do that, then it opens a door\nFor conversation like I want that\nI'm not lookin' for extra attention\nI just wanna be just like you\nBlend in with the rest of the room\nMaybe just point me to the closest restroom\nI don't need no fuckin' man servant\nTryna follow me around and wipe my ass\nLaugh at every single joke I crack\nAnd half of 'em ain't even funny, like, \"Ha!\nMarshall, you're so funny, man\nYou should be a comedian, goddamn!\"\nUnfortunately I am\nI just hide behind the tears of a clown\nSo why don't you all sit down?\nListen to the tale I'm about to tell\nHell, we don't gotta trade our shoes\nAnd you ain't gotta walk no thousand miles\u2014\nIn my shoes, just to see\nWhat it's like to be me\nI'll be you, let's trade shoes\nJust to see what it'd be like to\nFeel your pain, you feel mine\nGo inside each other's minds\nJust to see what we find\nLook at shit through each other's eyes\n\nBut don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh\nThey can all get fucked, just stay true to you, so\nDon't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh\nThey can all get fucked, just stay true to you, so\nNobody asked for life to deal us\nWith these bullshit hands we're dealt\nWe gotta take these cards ourselves\nAnd flip 'em, don't expect no help\nNow, I could've either just sat\nOn my ass and pissed and moaned\nOr take this situation in which I'm placed in\nAnd get up and get my own\nI was never the type of kid\nTo wait by the door and pack his bags\nAnd sat on the porch and hoped and prayed\nFor a dad to show up who never did\nI just wanted to fit in\nIn every single place, every school I went\nI dreamed of being that cool kid\nEven if it meant actin' stupid\nAunt Edna always told me:\n\"Keep making that face, it'll get stuck like that.\"\nMeanwhile, I'm just standin' there\nHoldin' my tongue, tryin' to talk like this\n'Til I stuck my tongue on that frozen\nStop sign pole at eight-years-old\nI learned my lesson then, 'cause I wasn't\nTryin' to impress my friends no mo'\nBut I already told you my whole life story\nNot just based on my description\n'Cause where you see it from where you're sittin'\nIt's probably a 110% different\nI guess we would have to walk a\nMile in each other's shoes at least\nWhat size you wear? I wear 10's\nLet's see if you can fit your feet\u2014\nIn my shoes, just to see\nWhat it's like to be me\nI'll be you, let's trade shoes\nJust to see what it'd be like to\nFeel your pain, you feel mine\nGo inside each other's minds\nJust to see what we find\nLook at shit through each other's eyes\n\nBut don't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh\nThey can all get fucked, just stay true to you, so\nDon't let 'em say you ain't beautiful, oh\nThey can all get fucked, just stay true to you, so\n\nLately I've been hard to reach\nI've been too long on my own (Oh)\nEverybody has a private world\nWhere they can be alone (So)\nAre you calling me?\nAre you tryin'g to get through? (Oh)\nAre you reaching out for me?\nI'm reaching out for you (So)\n\nYeah\nTo my babies:\nStay strong\nYour Dad'll be home soon\nAnd to the rest of the world:\nGod gave you shoes\nTo fit you\nSo put 'em on and wear 'em\nBe yourself, man\nBe proud of who you are\nEven if it sounds corny\nDon't never let no one tell you\nYou ain't beautiful (So-oh-oh-oh-oh)"}
{"text":"Love, love\nLove, love, love\nDon't hurt me\nDon't hurt me no more\nYoung Money, yeah\nNo more\nUh\nLove\n\nThrow dirt on me and grow a wildflower\nBut it's \"Fuck the world,\" get a child out her\nYeah, my life a bitch, but you know nothing 'bout her\nBeen to hell and back, I can show you vouchers (Love)\nI'm rollin' Sweets, I'm smokin' sour\nMarried to the game, but she broke her vows\nThat's why my bars are full of broken bottles\nAnd my nightstands are full of open Bibles\nUh, I think about more than I forget\nBut I don't go around fire expectin' not to sweat\nAnd these niggas know I lay 'em down, make your bed\nBitches try to kick me while I'm down, I'll break your leg\nMoney outweighin' problems on a triple beam\nI'm stickin' to the script, you niggas skippin' scenes\nUh, be good or be good at it\nFuckin' right, I got my gun, semi-Cartermatic\nYeah, put a dick in they mouth, so I guess it's fuck what they say\nI'm high as a bitch, up, up and away, man, I'll come down in a couple of days\nOkay, you want me up in the cage? Then I'll come out in beast mode\nI got this world stuck in the safe, combination is the G code\nIt's Weezy, motherfucker, Blood gang, and I'm in bleed mode\nAll about my dough, but I don't even check the peephole\nSo you can keep knockin', but won't knock me down\nNo love lost, no love found\nYou might also like\nIt's a little too late to say that you're sorry now (Yeah)\nYou kicked me when I was down\nBut what you say just don't (Don't hurt me)\nThat's right, it don't (Don't hurt me)\nAnd I don't need you (No more)\nDon't wanna see you (No more)\nHa, bitch, you get no (Love)\nYou showed me nothing but hate (Haha!)\nYou ran me into the ground\nBut what comes around goes around (Yeah)\nAnd I don't need you don't (Don't hurt me)\nThat's right, you don't (Don't hurt me)\nAnd I don't need you (No more)\nDon't wanna see you\nHa, bitch, you get (No love)\nNo! (No love) No! (No love) No! (No love)\nHa, bitch, you get (No love)\nNo! (No love) No! (No love)\nAnd I don't need you (No more)\nGet 'em!\n\nI'm alive again\nMore alive than I have been in my whole entire life, I can (Yeah)\nSee these people's ears perk up as I begin\nTo spaz with the pen\nUh, I'm a little bit sicker than most\nShit's finna get thick again\nThey say the competition is stiff\nBut I get a hard dick from this shit, now stick it in\nI ain't never giving in again (Yeah)\nCaution to the wind, complete freedom\nLook at these rappers, how I treat 'em\nSo why the fuck would I join 'em when I beat 'em? (Yeah!)\nThey call me a freak, 'cause\nI like to spit on these pussies 'fore I eat 'em (Haha)\nMan, get these wack cocksuckers off stage!\nWhere the fuck is Kanye when you need him? (Oh!)\nSnatch the mic from 'em, bitch, I'ma let you finish in a minute\nYeah, that rap was tight, but I'm (Yeah!)\n'Bout to spit the greatest verse of all time\nSo you might want to go back to the lab tonight and, um (Yeah!)\nScribble out them rhymes you were gonna spit\nAnd start over from scratch and write new ones\nBut I'm afraid that it ain't gonna make no difference\nWhen I rip this stage and tear it in half tonight\nIt's an adrenaline rush to feel the bass thump\nFrom the place all the way to the parking lot, fellow\nSet fire to the mic and ignite the crowd (Yeah)\nYou can see the sparks from hot metal (Yeah)\nCold-hearted, from the day I Bogarted\nThe game, my soul started to rot, fellow (Yeah)\nWhen I'm not even in my harshest\nYou can still get roasted, 'cause Marsh is not mellow\n'Til I'm topplin' from the top, I'm not gonna stop\nI'm standin' on my Monopoly board (Uh)\nThat means I'm on top of my game\nAnd it don't stop 'til my hip don't hop anymore (Shit)\nWhen you're so good that you can't say it\n'Cause it ain't even cool for you to sound cocky anymore (Shit)\nPeople just get sick 'cause you spit\nThese fools can't drool or dribble a drop anymore (Ow!)\nAnd you can never break my stride (Nope)\nYou'll never slow the momentum at any moment, I'm 'bout to blow\nYou'll never take my pride\nKillin' the flow, slow venom and the opponent is gettin' no\nMercy, mark my words\nAin't lettin' up, relentless, I smell blood\nI don't give a fuck, keep givin' them hell\nWhere was you when I fell and needed help up?\nYou get no love\nIt's a little too late to say that you're sorry now (Uh)\nYou kicked me when I was down\nBut what you say just don't (Don't hurt me)\nYeah, that's right, it don't (Don't hurt me)\nAnd I don't need you (No more)\nDon't wanna see you (No more)\nHa, bitch, you get no (Love)\nYou showed me nothing but hate (Yeah!)\nYou ran me into the ground\nBut what comes around goes around\nAnd I don't need you (Don't hurt me)\nThat's right, you don't (Don't hurt me)\nAnd I don't need you (No more)\nDon't wanna see you\nHa, bitch, you get (No love)\nNo! (No love) No! (No love) No! (No love)\nHa, bitch, you get (No love)\nNo! (No love) No! (No love)\nAnd I don't need you (No more)\nHa, bitch, you get no (Love)"}
{"text":"Yeah, it's my life\nIn my own words, I guess\n\nHave you ever loved someone so much, you'd give an arm for?\nNot the expression, no, literally give an arm for\nWhen they know they're your heart and you know you are their armor\nAnd you will destroy anyone who would try to harm her\nBut what happens when karma turns right around to bite you?\nAnd everything you stand for turns on you to spite you?\nWhat happens when you become the main source of her pain?\n\"Daddy, look what I made!\" \"Dad's gotta go catch a plane\"\n\"Daddy, where's Mommy? I can't find Mommy, where is she?\"\n\"I don't know, go play, Hailie, baby, your daddy's busy\nDaddy's writin' a song, this song ain't gon' write itself\nI'll give you one underdog, then you gotta swing by yourself\"\nThen turn right around on that song and tell her you love her\nAnd put hands on her mother who's a spitting image of her\nThat's Slim Shady, yeah, baby, Slim Shady's crazy\nShady made me, but tonight Shady's rock-a-bye baby, ha\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm lookin' down on you smilin'\nAnd I didn't feel a thing\nSo, baby, don't feel no pain, just smile back\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm lookin' down on you smilin'\nAnd I didn't feel a thing\nSo, baby, don't feel my pain, just smile back\nYou might also like\nI keep havin' this dream, I'm pushin' Hailie on the swing\nShe keeps screamin' she don't want me to sing\n\"You're makin' Mommy cry, why? Why is Mommy cryin'?\"\n\"Baby, Daddy ain't leavin' no more\" \"Daddy, you're lyin'!\nYou always say that, you always say this is the last time\nBut you ain't leavin' no more, Daddy, you're mine!\"\nShe's pilin' boxes in front of the door, tryna block it\n\"Daddy, please! Daddy, don't leave! Daddy, no, stop it!\"\nGoes in her pocket, pulls out a tiny necklace locket\nIt's got a picture, \"This'll keep you safe, Daddy, take it wit' ya!\"\nI look up, it's just me standin' in the mirror\nThese fuckin' walls must be talkin' 'cause, man, I can hear 'em\nThey're sayin', \"You got one more chance to do right and it's tonight\nNow go out there and show 'em that you love 'em 'fore it's too late.\"\nAnd just as I go to walk out of my bedroom door\nIt turns to a stage, they're gone and the spotlight is on and I'm singin'\n\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm lookin' down on you smilin'\nAnd I didn't feel a thing\nSo, baby, don't feel no pain, just smile back\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm lookin' down on you smilin'\nAnd I didn't feel a thing\nSo, baby, don't feel my pain, just smile back\nSixty-thousand people all jumpin' out their seat\nThe curtain closes, they're throwin' roses at my feet\nI take a bow and \"Thank you all for comin' out\"\nThey're screamin' so loud, I take one last look at the crowd\nI glance down, I don't believe what I'm seein'\n\"Daddy, it's me! Help Mommy, her wrists are bleedin'!\"\n\"But baby, we're in Sweden, how did you get to Sweden?\"\n\"I followed you, Daddy, you told me that you weren't leavin'\nYou lied to me, Dad, and now you made Mommy sad\nAnd I bought you this coin, it says 'Number One Dad'\nThat's all I wanted, I just wanna give you this coin\nI get the point, fine, me and Mommy are goin'.\"\n\"But baby, wait!\" \u2013 \"It's too late, Dad, you made the choice\nNow go up there and show 'em that you love 'em more than us\nThat's what they want, they want you, Marshall, they keep\nScreamin' your name, it's no wonder you can't go to sleep\nJust take another pill, yeah, I bet you you will\nYou rap about it, yeah, word, k-keep it real.\"\nI hear applause, all this time I couldn't see\nHow could it be that the curtain is closin' on me?\nI turn around, find a gun on the ground, cock it\nPut it to my brain, scream, \"Die, Shady!\" and pop it\nThe sky darkens, my life flashes, the plane that I was\nSupposed to be on crashes and burns to ashes\nThat's when I wake up, alarm clock's ringin', there's birds singin'\nIt's spring and Hailie's outside swingin'\nI walk right up to Kim and kiss her, tell her I miss her\nHailie just smiles and winks at her little sister, almost as if to say\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm lookin' down on you smilin'\nAnd I didn't feel a thing\nSo, baby, don't feel no pain, just smile back\nAnd when I'm gone, just carry on, don't mourn\nRejoice every time you hear the sound of my voice\nJust know that I'm lookin' down on you smilin'\nAnd I didn't feel a thing\nSo, baby, don't feel my pain, just smile back\n*Curtains closing*"}
{"text":"Mom, I know I let you down\nAnd though you say the days are happy\nWhy is the power off and I'm fucked up?\nAnd, Mom, I know he's not around\nBut don't you place the blame on me\nAs you pour yourself another drink, yeah\n\nI guess we are who we are\nHeadlights shining in the dark night, I drive on\nMaybe we took this too far\n\nI went in headfirst, never thinkin' about who what I said hurt\nIn what verse, my mom probably got it the worst\nThe brunt of it, but as stubborn as we are, did I take it too far?\n\"Cleanin' Out My Closet\" and all them other songs\nBut regardless, I don't hate you \u2018cause, Ma\nYou're still beautiful to me, \u2018cause you're my mom\nThough far be it from you to be calm\nOur house was Vietnam, Desert Storm\nAnd both of us put together could form an atomic bomb\nEquivalent to chemical warfare\nAnd forever we could drag this on and on\nBut agree to disagree, that gift for me\nUp under the Christmas tree don't mean shit to me\nYou're kickin' me out? It's fifteen degrees\nAnd it's Christmas Eve, \"Little prick, just leave!\"\nMa, let me grab my fucking coat!\nAnything to have each other's goats\nWhy we always at each other's throats?\nEspecially when Dad, he fucked us both\nWe're in the same fuckin' boat\nYou'd think that'd make us close (Nope)\nFurther away it drove us, but together, headlights shine\nAnd a car full of belongings, still got a ways to go\nBack to grandma's house, it's straight up the road\nAnd I was the man of the house, the oldest\nSo my shoulders carried the weight of the load\nThen Nate got taken away by the state at eight-years-old\nAnd that's when I realized you were sick\nAnd it wasn't fixable or changeable\nAnd to this day we remain estranged, and I hate it though, but\u2014\nYou might also like\nI guess we are who we are\nHeadlights shining in the dark night, I drive on\nMaybe we took this too far\n\n\u2018Cause to this day we remain estranged and I hate it though\n\u2018Cause you ain't even get to witness your grandbabies grow\nBut I'm sorry, Mama, for \"Cleanin' Out My Closet\"\nAt the time I was angry, rightfully? Maybe so\nNever meant that far to take it, though\n\u2018Cause now I know it's not your fault, and I'm not makin' jokes\nThat song I no longer play at shows\nAnd I cringe every time it's on the radio\nAnd I think of Nathan being placed in a home\nAnd all the medicine you fed us and\nHow I just wanted you to taste your own\nBut now the medication's takin' over\nAnd your mental state's deterioratin' slow\nAnd I'm way too old to cry, this shit is painful, though\nBut, Ma, I forgive you, so does Nathan, yo\nAll you did, all you said, you did your best to raise us both\nFoster care, that cross you bear, few may be as heavy as yours\nBut I love you, Debbie Mathers\nOh, what a tangled web we have \u2018cause\nOne thing I never asked was\nWhere the fuck my deadbeat dad was\nFuck it, I guess he had trouble keepin' up with every address\nBut I'da flipped every mattress, every rock and desert cactus\nOwned a collection of maps\nAnd followed my kids to the edge of the atlas\nIf someone ever moved 'em from me\nThat you coulda bet your asses\nIf I had to come down the chimney, dressed as Santa, kidnap 'em\nAnd although one has only met their grandma once\nYou pulled up in our drive one night\nAs we were leavin' to get some hamburgers\nMe, her and Nate, we introduced you, hugged you\nAnd as you left, I had this overwhelming sadness\nCome over me as we pulled off to go our separate paths and\nI saw your headlights as I looked back\nAnd I'm mad I didn't get the chance to\nThank you for being my mom and my dad\nSo, Mom, please accept this as a\nTribute; I wrote this on the jet, I guess I had to\nGet this off my chest, I hope I get the chance to\nLay it 'fore I'm dead, the stewardess said to fasten\nMy seatbelt, I guess we're crashin'\nSo, if I'm not dreamin', I hope you get this message that\nI will always love you from afar, \u2018cause you're my mom\nI guess we are who we are\nHeadlights shining in the dark night, I drive on\nMaybe we took this too far\n\nI want a new life (Start over)\nOne without a cause (Clean slate)\nSo I'm coming home tonight (Yeah)\nWell, no matter what the cost\nAnd if the plane goes down\nOr if the crew can't wake me up\nWell, just know that I'm alright\nI was not afraid to die\nOh, even if there's songs to sing\nWell, my children will carry me\nJust know that I'm alright\nI was not afraid to die\nBecause I put my faith in my little girls\nSo I'll never say goodbye cruel world\nJust know that I'm alright\nI am not afraid to die\n\nI guess we are who we are\nHeadlights shining in the dark night, I drive on\nMaybe we took this too far\nI want a new life"}
{"text":"...Man, whatever\n\nDre, just let it run\nAyo, turn the beat up a little bit\nAyo\nThis song is for anyone\nFuck it, just shut up and listen\nAyo\nI sit back with this pack of Zig-Zag's and this bag\nOf this weed, it gives me the shit needed to be\nThe most meanest MC on this, on this Earth\nAnd since birth I've been cursed with this curse to just curse\nAnd just blurt this berserk and bizarre shit that works\nAnd it sells and it helps in itself to relieve\nAll this tension, dispensin' these sentences\nGettin' this stress that's been eatin' me recently off\nOf this chest and I rest again peacefully (Peacefully)\nBut at least have the decency in you\nTo leave me alone, when you freaks see me out\nIn the streets when I'm eatin' or feedin' my daughter\nTo not come and speak to me (Speak to me), I don't know you\nAnd no, I don't owe you a motherfuckin' thing\nI'm not Mr. *NSYNC, I'm not what your friends think\nI'm not Mr. Friendly, I can be a prick\nIf you tempt me, my tank is on empty (Is on empty)\nNo patience is in me and if you offend me\nI'm liftin' you ten feet (You ten feet) in the air\nI don't care who was there and who saw me just jaw you\nGo call you a lawyer, file you a lawsuit\nI'll smile in the courtroom and buy you a wardrobe\nI'm tired of all you (Of all you), I don't mean to be mean\nBut that's all I can be, it's just me\nYou might also like\nAnd I am whatever you say I am\nIf I wasn't, then why would I say I am?\nIn the paper, the news, every day I am\nHa, radio won't even play my jam\n'Cause I am whatever you say I am\nIf I wasn't, then why would I say I am?\nIn the paper, the news, every day I am\nHa, I don't know, that's just the way I am\n\nSometimes I just feel like my father, I hate to be bothered\nWith all of this nonsense, it's constant\nAnd, \"Oh, it's his lyrical content\nThe song 'Guilty Conscience' has gotten such rotten responses\"\nAnd all of this controversy circles me\nAnd it seems like the media immediately\nPoints a finger at me (Finger at me)\nSo I point one back at 'em, but not the index or pinkie\nOr the ring or the thumb, it's the one you put up\nWhen you don't give a fuck, when you won't just put up\nWith the bullshit they pull, 'cause they full of shit too\nWhen a dude's gettin' bullied and shoots up his school\nAnd they blame it on Marilyn (On Marilyn) and the heroin\nWhere were the parents at? (Parents at?) And look where it's at!\nMiddle America, now it's a tragedy\nNow it's so sad to see, an upper-class city\nHavin' this happenin' (This happenin') then attack\nEminem 'cause I rap this way (Rap this way) but I'm glad\n'Cause they feed me the fuel that I need for the fire to burn\nAnd it's burnin', and I have returned\nAnd I am whatever you say I am\nIf I wasn't, then why would I say I am?\nIn the paper, the news, every day I am\nRadio won't even play my jam\n'Cause I am whatever you say I am\nIf I wasn't, then why would I say I am?\nIn the paper, the news, every day I am\nHa, I don't know, that's just the way I am\n\nI'm so sick and tired of bein' admired\nThat I wish that I would just die or get fired\nAnd dropped from my label, let's stop with the fables\nI'm not gonna be able to top a \"My Name Is\"\nAnd pigeon-holed into some poppy sensation\nTo cop me rotation at rock 'n' roll stations\nAnd I just do not got the patience (Got the patience)\nTo deal with these cocky Caucasians who think\nI'm some wigger who just tries to be Black 'cause I talk\nWith an accent and grab on my balls so they always\nKeep askin' the same fuckin' questions (Fuckin' questions)\nWhat school did I go to, what hood I grew up in\nThe why, the who, what, when, the where, and the how\n'Til I'm grabbin' my hair and I'm tearin' it out\n'Cause they drivin' me crazy (Me crazy), I can't take it\nI'm racin', I'm pacin', I stand and I sit\nAnd I'm thankful for every fan that I get\nBut I can't take a shit in the bathroom without\nSomeone standin' by it! (Standin' by it) No, I won't sign your autograph\nYou can call me an asshole, I'm glad\n'Cause I am whatever you say I am\nIf I wasn't, then why would I say I am?\nIn the paper, the news, every day I am\nRadio won't even play my jam\n'Cause I am whatever you say I am\nIf I wasn't, then why would I say I am?\nIn the paper, the news, every day I am\nHa, I don't know, that's just the way I am\n(Way I am)"}
{"text":"\nHi, my name is, what? My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, huh? My name is, what?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, what? (Excuse me) My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\n(Can I have the attention of the class for one second?)\nHi, my name is, huh? My name is, what?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\n\nHi, kids, do you like violence? (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWanna see me stick nine-inch nails through each one of my eyelids? (Uh-huh)\nWanna copy me and do exactly like I did? (Yeah, yeah)\nTry 'cid and get fucked up worse than my life is? (Huh?)\nMy brain's dead weight, I'm tryna get my head straight\nBut I can't figure out which Spice Girl I want to impregnate (Oh)\nAnd Dr. Dre said, \"Slim Shady, you a basehead\" (Uh-uh)\n\"Then why's your face red? Man, you wasted\"\nWell, since age 12, I felt like I'm someone else\n'Cause I hung my original self from the top bunk with a belt\nGot pissed off and ripped Pamela Lee's tits off\nAnd smacked her so hard I knocked her clothes backwards like Kris Kross\nI smoke a fat pound of grass, and fall on my ass\nFaster than a fat bitch who sat down too fast\nCome here, slut; \"Shady, wait a minute, that's my girl, dawg\"\nI don't give a fuck, God sent me to piss the world off\nYou might also like\nHi, my name is, what? My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, huh? My name is, what?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, what? My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, huh? My name is, what?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\n\nMy English teacher wanted to flunk me in junior high (Shh)\nThanks a lot, next semester I'll be 35\nI smacked him in his face with an eraser, chased him with a stapler\nAnd stapled his nuts to a stack of paper (Ow)\nWalked in the strip club, had my jacket zipped up\nFlashed the bartender, then stuck my dick in the tip cup\nExtraterrestrial, running over pedestrians in a spaceship While they're screaming at me, \"Let's just be friends\"\n99 percent of my life, I was lied to\nI just found out my mom does more dope than I do (Damn)\nI told her I'd grow up to be a famous rapper\nMake a record about doin' drugs and name it after her\n(Oh, thank you)\nYou know you blew up when the women rush your stands\nAnd try to touch your hands like some screamin' Usher fans\n(Ahh, ahh, ahh)\nThis guy at White Castle asked for my autograph (Dude, can I get your autograph?)\nSo I signed it, \"Dear Dave, thanks for the support, asshole\"\nHi, my name is, huh? My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, what? My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, huh? My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, what? My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\n\nStop the tape, this kid needs to be locked away (Get him)\nDr. Dre, don't just stand there, operate\nI'm not ready to leave, it's too scary to die (Fuck that)\nI'll have to be carried inside the cemetery and buried alive\n(Huh, yup)\nAm I comin' or goin'? I can barely decide\nI just drank a fifth of vodka, dare me to drive? (Go ahead)\nAll my life I was very deprived\nI ain't had a woman in years and my palms are too hairy to hide (Whoops)\nClothes ripped like the Incredible Hulk\nI spit when I talk, I'll fuck anything that walks (Come here)\nWhen I was little, I used to get so hungry I would throw fits\nHow you gonna breastfeed me, Mom? You ain't got no tits\nI lay awake and strap myself in the bed\nWith a bulletproof vest on and shoot myself in the head (Bang)\n'Cause I'm steamin' mad (Grr)\nAnd by the way, when you see my dad (Yeah?)\nTell him that I slit his throat in this dream I had\nHi, my name is, what? My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, huh? My name is, what?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, who? My name is, huh?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady\nHi, my name is, huh? My name is, who?\nMy name is, chka-chka, Slim Shady"}
{"text":"Yeah!\n\nThis is survival of the fittest\nThis is do or die\nThis is the winner takes it all\nSo, take it all, a-all, a-all, a-all\nWasn't ready to be no millionaire, I was ill-prepared\nI was prepared to be ill though, the skill was there\nFrom the beginning it wasn't 'bout the ends, it was 'bout\nBustin' raps and standin' for somethin', fuck an acronym\nCut the fuckin' act like you're happy, I'm fuckin' back again\nWith another anthem \u2013 why stop when it doesn't have to end?\nIt ain't over 'til I say it's over, enough when I say enough\nThrow me to them wolves and close the gate up, I'm afraid of What'll happen to them wolves when the thought of being thrown\nInto an alligator pit, I salivate at it, wait is up\nHands up like it's 12 noon, nah, homie, hold them bitches straighter up\nWave 'em 'til you dislocate a rotator cuff\nCame up rough, came to ruffle feathers, nah, egos, I ain't deflate enough\nLast chance to make this whole stadium erupt, 'cause\u2014\nThis is survival of the fittest\nThis is do or die\nThis is the winner takes it all\nSo, take it all, a-all, a-all, a-all\nYou might also like\nI can see the finish line with each line that I finish\nI'm so close to my goals, I can almost pole vault over the goal post\nAnd if I don't got enough in the tank, maybe I can just siphon enough\nTo fill up this last can, man, will I survive in this climate or what?\nThey said I was washed-up and got a bloodbath\nI'm not a rapper, I'm an adapter: I can adjust\nPlus, I can just walk up to a mic and just bust\nSo, floor's open if you'd like to discuss\nTop 5 in this muh'fucka, and if I don't make the cut\nWhat? Like I give a fuck! I'ma light this bitch up like I'm driving a truck\nThrough the side of a pump, zero to sixty, hop in and gun it\nLike G-Unit without the hyphen, I'm hyping 'em up\nAnd if there should ever come a time where my life's in a rut\nAnd I look like I might just give up, eh, might've mistook\nMe for bowin' out, I ain't takin' a bow, I'm stabbin' myself\nWith a fuckin' knife in the gut while I'm wipin' my butt\n'Cause I just shitted on the mic and I like gettin' cut\nI get excited at the sight of my blood, you're in a fight with a nut\n'Cause I'ma fight 'til I die or win, bitin' the dust\nIt'll just make me angrier; wait, let me remind you of what\nGot me this far, picture me quittin'\nNow draw a circle around it and put a line through it, slut!\nIt's survival of what?\nThis is survival of the fittest\nThis is do or die\nThis is the winner takes it all\nSo, take it all, a-all, a-all, a-all\nSo, take it all, a-all, a-all, a-all\n(Yeah) So, get your ideas, stack your ammo\nBut don't come unless you come to battle, now mount up, jump in the saddle\nThis is it\u2014it's what you eat, sleep, piss and shit\nLive, breathe, your whole existence just consists of this\nRefuse to quit, fuse is lit, can't defuse the wick\nI don't do this music shit, I'll lose my shit\nAin't got shit to lose, it's the moment of truth, it's all I know how to do\nAs soon as I get thrown in a booth, I spit\nBut my respect is overdue, I'm showin' you the flow no one do\n'Cause I don't own no diploma for school, I quit\nSo there's nothin' for me to fall back on, I know no other trade\nSo you better trade your fuckin' mics in for some tool-box-es\n'Cause you'll never take my pride from me, it'll have to be pried from me\nSo, pull out your pliers and your screwdrivers!\nBut I want you to doubt me, I don't want you to buh-lieve\n'Cause this is somethin' that I must use to succeed\nAnd if you don't like me, then fuck you! Self-esteem\nMust be fuckin' shootin' through the roof, 'cause trust me\nMy skin is too thick and bulletproof to touch me\nI can see why the fuck I disgust you, I must be\nAllergic to failure, 'cause everytime I come close to it\nI just sneeze, but I just go achoo then a-chieve!\nThis is survival of the fittest\nThis is do or die\nThis is the winner takes it all\nSo, take it all, a-all, a-all, a-all\nSo, take it all, a-all, a-all, a-all"}
{"text":"Motherfuckers talkin' crazy (Yeah)\nSayin\u2019 I should quit (Ah)\nI fuckin' tell 'em make me (Bitch)\nEat a fuckin\u2019 dick (Yeah)\nI'm feelin' like the greatest (Woo!)\nOn the beat who ever did it\nMike WiLL the one who made it\nIt's Shady on the lyrics\n\nI'm somewhat outlandish they say\nYou say we're cut from the same cloth\nBut I guess you fabricate, eh?\nYou better bring more men than the Latter Day Saints\nManic states, Stephen Paddock with automatic stay sprayin'\nAt anything that may stand in they way\nAs I stand at the bay window with a hand grenade\nAnd a trey eight, at the Mandalay Bay\nCommon sense, I'm a dollar short and a day late\nJames Holmes at the Saturday Batman matinee\nMust have missed my CAT scan that day (Yeah!)\nI just threw a Tampax at Dre\nTrashcan, Tascam and ashtray\nI\u2019m turnin\u2019 back to a madman, can't take\nAnymore but I try to get away from the anger and rage\nMy basal ganglia\u2019s an A to the K\nGet your ass sprayed like bidets\nBreakin' your legs eight different ways, ankle to waist\nYou chumps don't even know how to do somethin'\nTo give goosebumps a day when you say\nThat somethin\u2019 you wrote gave someone a lump in their throat\nOr you had them choked up, you'd be yankin' my chain (Ayy)\nFeel like I'm headed for the padded cell, the\nBar for me when I rap isn't fair but\nGuess that's the standard I'm held to\nBut if somethin' like that doesn't tell ya\nYou set a mark too high when platinum sales are looked at as a failure (Yeah)\nThen you better take it back to The Shelter and Hamburger Helper\n'Cause, damn it, I'm still the\nYou might also like\nGreatest in the world (Yeah!)\nGreatest in the world (Yeah!)\nGreatest in the world (Yeah!)\nNo lie, I might be\nThe best to ever do it (Yeah!)\nThe best to ever do it (Yeah!)\nThe best to ever do it (Yeah!)\nI feel like the greatest (Yeah!)\nWoke up to honkies sounding like me\nNever be as good (Yeah!)\nNever be as good (Yeah!)\n(Packing up) Wife-beaters, white t-shirts, what?\nBut I'm the greatest\n\nSo you sold ten million albums, eh? (What?)\nOnly problem is, you put out ten million albums, eh? (Haha! Wait)\nWhat was I just about to say?\nOh yeah, let me get this out the way\nI know there's people that are pissed about the way\nI mispronounced a name, \"Die Antwoord!\"\nFuck, I still can't say this shit, but how quickly they forget\nWho the fuck I was; now Ninja try to duck my slugs\nYou let ya girl get fucked by Muggs\nI'd like to give a shout to Cypress (Woo!)\nThis can't be real, you dissed me and I was just tryin' to\nGive you a shout\u2014now get the fuck out my rhyme book\nNo more shiners, already too much time took\nAnd rappers I hear you talkin' shit\nI'm just too big to respond to it\nGod forbid I forget though, and jump out the window\nSomebody better child-proof it (Yeah)\n'Cause if I lose it we can rewind to some old Ja Rule shit\nAnd I can remind motherfuckers how I do shit\nYou don't got the tools I got in my toolkit (Bitch!)\nI bullshit you not, y'all fools just forgot\nThat I'm so fuckin' awful with the thoughts\nAnd when I'm hostile and impossible to stop\nSo you can call it a nostril 'cause it's not gonna ever\nI'll never let up on the pedal, might as well get the mop\n'Cause I'm wipin' up everyone in this genre\n'Cause on the mic I feel like I'm the\nGreatest in the world (Yeah!)\nGreatest in the world (Yeah!)\nGreatest in the world (Yeah!)\nNo lie, I might be\nThe best to ever do it (Yeah!)\nThe best to ever do it (Yeah!)\nThe best to ever do it (Yeah!)\nI feel like the greatest (Yeah!)\nWoke up to honkies sounding like me\nNever be as good (Yeah!)\nNever be as good (Yeah!)\n(Packing up) Wife-beaters, white t-shirts, what?\nBut I'm the greatest\n\nOh yeah, and one more thing I want to mention (What?)\nIs you're one dimension\nI'm a monkey wrench and I can flunk detention\nAnd I love contentions, so welcome to the gun convention\nMuscles flexin', gotta strut like a front suspension (Woo)\nAnd you just stuck the key up in the ignition\nAnd gave me enough gas to flood my engine (Yeah)\nPsychopath, Michael Jack's blowin' up like a raft\nI should slap Vlad with a ISIS flag\nBet you I come back twice as bad (Uh)\nRevival didn't go viral!\nDenaun and Royce tell me that I should take the high road\nFuck that, I'm finna hit back\n'Til I run out of gunpowder and split the scene (Pew)\nHold the mic similar to pistol, squeeze\nAnd I shoot from the hip when I grip them things\nAnd my lips are the clips, got the Sig lit like it's nicotine\nTrigger me and Slim gets mean (Brr!)\nBars are like bullets when I spit them schemes\nThat's why I call the motherfuckers M16s (Woo!)\nFloat like a butterfly, I'm gonna sting like a bee\nYou ain't harmin' a thing\nI hit a ding (Ding!) hard as I'm gonna swing\nI'm gonna need to put my arm in a sling (Ow!)\nBut like a wedding band\nYou gotta be diamond to even climb in the ring\nAnomaly, I'm Muhammad Ali\n'Cause I knew one day (Hey!) I'm gonna be the\nGreatest in the world (Yeah!)\nGreatest in the world (Yeah!)\nGreatest in the world (Yeah!)\nNo lie, I might be\nThe best to ever do it (Yeah!)\nThe best to ever do it (Yeah!)\nThe best to ever do it (Yeah!)\nI feel like the greatest (Yeah!)\nWoke up to honkies sounding like me\nNever be as good (Yeah!)\nNever be as good (Yeah!)\n(Packing up) Wife-beaters, white t-shirts, what?\nBut I'm the greatest"}
{"text":"Step by step, heart to heart\nLeft, right, left, we all fall down...\n\nStep by step, heart to heart\nLeft, right, left, we all fall down\nLike toy soldiers\nBit by bit, torn apart\nWe never win, but the battle wages on\nFor toy soldiers\n\nI'm supposed to be the soldier who never blows his composure\nEven though I hold the weight of the whole world on my shoulders\nI ain't never supposed to show it\nMy crew ain't supposed to know it\nEven if it means goin' toe-to-toe with a Benzino\nIt don't matter, I never drag 'em in battles that I can't handle\n'Less I absolutely have to, I'm supposed to set an example\nI need to be the leader, my crew looks for me to guide 'em\nIf some shit ever does pop off, I'm supposed to be beside 'em\nThat Ja shit, I tried to squash it, it was too late to stop it\nThere's a certain line you just don't cross, and he crossed it\nI heard him say Hailie's name on a song and I just lost it\nIt was crazy, the shit went way beyond some JAY-Z and Nas shit\nAnd even though the battle was won, I feel like we lost it\nI spent so much energy on it, honestly I'm exhausted\nAnd I'm so caught in it, I almost feel I'm the one who caused it\nThis ain't what I'm in hip-hop for, it's not why I got in it\nThat was never my object, for someone to get killed\nWhy would I wanna destroy somethin' I helped build?\nIt wasn't my intentions, my intentions were good\nI went through my whole career without ever mentionin' ****\nAnd that was just outta respect, for not runnin' my mouth\nAnd talkin' about somethin' that I knew nothin' about\nPlus Dre told me stay out, this just wasn't my beef\nSo I did, I just fell back, watched and gritted my teeth\nWhile he's all over TV, down-talkin' the man\nWho literally saved my life, like fuck it, I understand\nThis is business, and this shit just isn't none of my business\nBut still knowin' the shit could pop off at any minute, 'cause\nYou might also like\nStep by step, heart to heart\nLeft, right, left, we all fall down\nLike toy soldiers\nBit by bit, torn apart\nWe never win, but the battle wages on\nFor toy soldiers\n\nThere used to be a time when you could just say a rhyme and\nWouldn't have to worry about one of your people dyin'\nBut now it's elevated, 'cause once you put someone's kids in it\nThe shit gets escalated\u2014it ain't just words no more, is it?\nIt's a different ballgame, you call names and you ain't just rappin'\nWe actually tried to stop the 50 and Ja beef from happenin'\nMe and Dre had sat with him, kicked it and had a chat with him\nAnd asked him not to start it, he wasn't gonna go after him\nUntil Ja started yappin' in magazines how he stabbed him\nFuck it, 50, smash him! Mash on him, let him have it\nMeanwhile my attention's pulled in another direction\nSome receptionist at The Source who answers phones at his desk\nHas an erection for me and thinks that I'll be his resurrection\nTries to blow the dust off his mic and make a new record\nBut now he's fucked the game up 'cause one of the ways I came up\nWas through that publication, the same one that made me famous\nNow the owner of it has got a grudge against me for nothin'?\nWell, fuck it, that motherfucker could get it too, fuck him then!\nBut I'm so busy bein' pissed off, I don't stop to think\nThat we've just inherited 50's beef with Murder Inc.\nAnd he's inherited mine, which is fine, ain't like either of us mind\nWe still have soldiers that's on the front line\nWho's willin' to die for us as soon as we give the orders\nNever to extort us, strictly to show they support us\nAnd maybe shout 'em out in a rap or up in a chorus\nTo show 'em we love 'em back and let 'em know how important\nIt is to have Runyon Avenue soldiers up in our corners\nTheir loyalty to us is worth more than any award is\nBut I ain't tryna have none of my people hurt or murdered\nIt ain't worth it, I can't think of a perfecter way to word it\nThan to just say that I love y'all too much to see the verdict\nI'll walk away from it all 'fore I let it go any further\nBut don't get it twisted, it's not a plea that I'm coppin'\nI'm just willin' to be the bigger man, if y'all can quit poppin'\nOff at the jaws, well, then I can, 'cause frankly I'm sick of talkin'\nI'm not gonna let someone else's coffin rest on my conscience\n'Cause\nStep by step, heart to heart\nLeft, right, left, we all fall down\nLike toy soldiers\nBit by bit, torn apart\nWe never win, but the battle wages on\nFor toy soldiers"}
{"text":"These ideas are nightmares to white parents\nWhose worst fear is a child with dyed hair and who likes earrings\nLike whatever they say has no bearing\nIt's so scary in a house that allows no swearing\nTo see him walkin' around with his headphones blarin'\nAlone in his own zone, cold and he don't care, he's\nA problem child, and what bothers him all comes out\nWhen he talks about his fuckin' dad walkin' out (Bitch!)\n'Cause he hates him so bad that he blocks him out\nIf he ever saw him again he'd probably knock him out\nHis thoughts are wacked, he's mad so he's talkin' back\nTalkin' black, brainwashed from rock and rap\nHe sags his pants, do-rags and a stockin' cap\nHis stepfather hit him so he socked him back\nAnd broke his nose, his house is a broken home\nThere's no control, he just lets his emotions go\n(Come on!) Sing with me (Sing!), sing for the year (Sing it!)\nSing for the laughter and sing for the tear (Come on!)\nSing it with me, it's just for today\nMaybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away\n\nEntertainment is changin', intertwinin' with gangsters\nIn the land of the killers, a sinner's mind is a sanctum\nHoly or unholy, only have one homie\nOnly this gun, lonely \u2018cause don't anyone know me\nYet everybody just feels like they can relate (Huh-uh)\nI guess words are a motherfucker, they can be great\nOr they can degrade, or even worse, they can teach hate\nIt's like these kids hang on every single statement we make\nLike they worship us, plus all the stores ship us platinum\nNow how the fuck did this metamorphosis happen?\nFrom standin' on corners and porches just rappin'\nTo havin' a fortune, no more kissin' ass\nBut then these critics crucify you (Yep), journalists try to burn you\nFans turn on you, attorneys all want a turn at you\nTo get they hands on every dime you have\nThey want you to lose your mind every time you mad\nSo they can try to make you out to look like a loose cannon\nAny dispute won't hesitate to produce handguns\nThat's why these prosecutors wanna convict me\nStrictly just to get me off of these streets quickly\nBut all they kids be listenin' to me religiously\nSo I'm signin' CDs while police fingerprint me\nThey're for the judge's daughter, but his grudge is against me\nIf I'm such a fuckin' menace, this shit doesn't make sense, B\nIt's all political, if my music is literal\nAnd I'm a criminal, how the fuck can I raise a little girl?\nI couldn't, I wouldn't be fit to\nYou're full of shit too, Guerrera, that was a fist that hit you! (Bitch!)\nYou might also like\n(Come on!) Sing with me (Sing!), sing for the year (Sing it!)\nSing for the laughter and sing for the tear (Sing that shit!)\nSing it with me, it's just for today\nMaybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away\n\nThey say music can alter moods and talk to you\nWell, can it load a gun up for you and cock it too?\nWell, if it can, then the next time you assault a dude\nJust tell the judge it was my fault and I'll get sued\nSee, what these kids do is hear about us totin' pistols\nAnd they wanna get one \u2018cause they think the shit's cool\nNot knowin' we really just protectin' ourselves\nWe entertainers, of course the shit's affectin' our sales\nYou ignoramus, but music is reflection of self\nWe just explain it, and then we get our checks in the mail\nIt's fucked up, ain't it? How we can come from practically nothin'\nTo bein' able to have any fuckin' thing that we wanted\nThat's why we sing for these kids who don't have a thing\nExcept for a dream and a fuckin' rap magazine (Ha-ha!)\nWho post pin-up pictures on they walls all day long\nIdolize they favorite rappers and know all they songs\nOr for anyone who's ever been through shit in they lives\nSo they sit and they cry at night, wishin' they'd die\n'Til they throw on a rap record and they sit and they vibe\nWe're nothin' to you, but we're the fuckin' shit in they eyes\nThat's why we seize the moment, try to freeze it and own it\nSqueeze it and hold it \u2018cause we consider these minutes golden\nAnd maybe they'll admit it when we're gone\nJust let our spirits live on\nThrough our lyrics that you hear in our songs, so we can\u2014\nSing with me (Sing!), sing for the year (Sing it!)\nSing for the laughter and sing for the tear (Come on!)\nSing it with me, it's just for today\nMaybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away\nSing with me (Sing!), sing for the year (Sing it!)\nSing for the laughter and sing for the tear (Come on!)\nSing it with me, it's just for today\nMaybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away"}
{"text":"\nSomething's burnin', I can't figure out what (Out what)\nIt's either lust or a cloud of dust\nJudgement is clouded; must\nJust be the powder from the power of (Love!)\nBut I'm in something I don't know how to get out of\nLeft my girl in the house alone (Ah!)\nIs that my soon-to-be-spouse\u2019s moan?\nAnd the further I walk, the louder (Ah, ah!)\nPause for a minute to make certain that's what I heard\n\u2018Cause after all, this is her place\nSo I give her the benefit of the doubt, I\nThink I might be about to bust her, bust her (Ah!)\nThe thought's scary, yo, though and it hurts\u2014brace!\nHope it ain't, \"Here we go, yo!\"\n\u2018Cause my head already goes to worst-case\nScenario, though in the first place (Ah, fuck)\nBut you confirmed my low-end theory though (Ah!)\nShould've known when I made it all the way to third base\nAnd that was only the first date\nCould've made it to home plate (Oh!)\nBut you slid straight for the dome and dove face first\n\"No, (*slurp*) you don't (*slurp*) under\u2014 (*slurp*) \u2014stand, (*slurp*)\nI (*slurp*) don't (*slurp*) do this for (*hic*) anyone, (*hic*) ever (*slurp*)\"\nYeah, that ain't what they all say?\nI'll say, you can suck a softball through a straw\nUsed to be my fianc\u00e9\n'Til you sucked on Wayne, Andr\u00e9, and Kanye\nLeBron, Akon, JAY, Lil Jon, Raekwon, Ma$e\nPolow da Don, Dre, Dante Ross, James Conway, Kwam\u00e9?!\nGuess I'm gettin' my g-goddang Jigga on, eh?\n'Cause your name, I'm beyond sayin' (Ha)\nBut fuck it, I'm movin' on, you women are all cray\nBut I'll probably always keep on playin' the\u2014\nYou might also like\nGame of love, love, love, love\nLa-La-La-La-La love\n\nShe doesn't love me, no, she don't love me no more\nShe hates my company, guess she don't love me no more\nI tried to get her up out of my head, left my bags at the door\nShe screamed she loved me like she never did before\n\nAnd I told her, \"Go where you wanna!\nGo do whatcha wanna do, I don't care!\"\nAnd I told her, \"Go where you wanna!\nGo do whatcha wanna do, I don't care!\"\n\nI told that bitch, \"I'm a sucker for love, you a sucker for dick\"\nSuckin' dick in your mama tub, then your granny walked in\nTold the stupid nigga to duck under the water\nHe drowned, like an abortion\nThey booked you for manslaughter\nYou beat the case and I called ya\n\"Sherane is not available now, leave a message at the tone\nAnd Kendrick, don't forget to buy two pair of those\nExpensive heels, you little fuckin' Ferris wheel\nFuckin' spinnin' on me\u2014fuck you think, we gon' get married still?\nFuckin' Mary had a little lamb, this ain't no fairy tale\nFairy godmama better tell you how I fuckin' feel\nLike you should fuckin' beat it\nOr fuckin' eat it while I'm on my period\nNow have a blessed day!\" (*Phone hangs up*)\nBitch, you serious?\nI'm in the mirror with this look on my face, curious\nWhy you ain't fuckin' with me? You cut me deep as Caesarean\nYou know I want you bad as a Benjamin, I'm delirious\nI want you bad as the head shattered on George Zimmerman\nAfter the Dillinger hit him diligently and killin' him\nHis mouthpiece for a Cadillac emblem\nThat's analogy and metaphor for you\nI should win a medal for all the ways I adore you\nThis is me talkin' cordial, yeah, I got some home training\nThat ain't what you like, ain't it?\nWhat about if I was as famous as Marshall?\nWould you give fellatio in the carpool?\nCops pull us over, they just wanna know if you gargle\nSingin', \"I hope she's good enough\nMeanwhile you're chasin' her\"\nChlamydia couldn't even get rid of her\nPity the fool and pity the fool in me, I'ma live with her\nGame of love, love, love, love\nLa-La-La-La-La love\n\nShe doesn't love me, no, she don't love me no more\nShe hates my company, guess she don't love me no more\nI tried to get her up out of my head, left my bags at the door\nShe screamed she loved me like she never did before\n\nAnd I told her, \"Go where you wanna!\nGo do whatcha wanna do, I don't care!\"\nAnd I told her, \"Go where you wanna!\nGo do whatcha wanna do, I don't care!\"\n\nSo needless to say I'm feelin' betrayed\nSnatch my house key off her key chain\nShe jumps off Wee-Bey from The Wire's dick\nNow she's chasin' me with a cheese grater\nHere goes that broken record clich\u00e9\nIt's all my fault anyway, she's turnin' the tables, I'm a beat-break\nShe treats my face like Serato, she cuts and scratches like a DJ\nEach day is an Instant Replay\nThey say what we display is symptomatic of addict behaviour\nBack together, but forgot today was her B-day\nShe cut me off on the freeway\nSimple misunderstanding, but just as I went to slam on the brakes\nThat's when I realized that she may be crazy as me, wait\nBitch cut my fuckin' brakeline\nStepped on them fuckers eight times\nStill goin' seventy-three, thank God there's an exit comin' up\nWhat the mother-F-U-C-K's wrong with her?\nHit the off ramp 'til I coasted to a goshdamn halt\nHit a fuckin' tree, now here she comes at full speed\nShe's racin' at me, okay, you wanna fuck with me, eh?\nSnatch that bitch out her car through the window\nShe screamin', I body slam her on the cement\nUntil the concrete gave and created a sinkhole\nBuried the stink ho in it, then paid to have the street repaved\n(The fuck?) Woke up in a dream state\nIn a cold sweat like I got hit with a freeze ray during a heat wave\nGuess I eventually caved though, 'cause she's layin' next to me in bed\u2014directly aimin' a gat at my head!\nWoke up again and jumped up\nLike, \"Fuck it! I've had it, I'm checkin' into rehab\"\nI confess I'm a static addict, I guess that's why I'm so clingy\nEvery girl I've ever had either says I got too much baggage\nOr I'm too fuckin' dramatic\nMan, what the fuck is the matter? I'm just a fuckin' romantic\nI fuckin' love you, you fuckin' bitch!\nCombative, possessive, in fact last time I was mad at an ex\nI actually set off a chain reaction of tragic events\nI said, \"Hit the road\", then after she left\nI sent that bitch a text that said, \"Be careful driving\nDon't read this and have an accident\"\nShe glanced to look at it and wrecked (*Car crashes*)\nToo bad, thought we had a connect\nNo sense dwelling makes, never been a more compelling case\nThan the model covered in L'Or\u00e9al and mace\nWho fell from grace eleven stories for storytellin'\nWhile the whore was yellin', \"Rape!\"\n'Til her vocal cords were swellin'\nAnd her voice were more hoarser than Tori Spellings' face\nStill they swarm the gates of my fancy estates\nTo greet Norman Bates with a warm embrace\n'Less you're Andrea Yates, don't ask me for a date though\nDon't be late, well, the sentiment's great\nBut wait, think there's been a mistake\nYou wanted an intimate date, I wanna intimidate\nI have infinite hate in my blood\nIt's mainly 'cause of the game of\u2014 (*Message sound*)\nWait, \"dinner at eight\"? I have infinite hate in my blood\nIt's mainly 'cause of the\u2014\nGame of love, love, love, love\nLa-La-La-La-La love"}
{"text":"We touch, I feel a rush\nWe clutch, it isn't much\nBut it's enough to make me wonder what's in store for us\nIt's lust, it's torturous\nYou must be a sorceress\n'Cause you just did the impossible, gained my trust\nDon't play games, it'll be dangerous if you fuck me over\n'Cause if I get burnt, I'ma show you what it's like to hurt\n'Cause I been treated like dirt before ya\nAnd love is evil, spell it backwards, I'll show ya\nNobody knows me, I'm cold\nWalk down this road all alone\nIt's no one's fault but my own\nIt's the path I've chosen to go\nFrozen as snow, I show no emotion whatsoever, so\nDon't ask me why I have no love for these motherfuckin' hoes\nBloodsuckin' succubuses, what the fuck is up with this?\nI've tried in this department, but I ain't had no luck with this\nIt sucks, but it's exactly what I thought it would be like tryin' to start over\nI got a hole in my heart, but some kind of emotional roller coaster\nSomethin' I won't go on, so you toy with my emotions, so it's over\nIt's like an explosion every time I hold ya\nWasn't jokin' when I told you you take my breath away\nYou're a supernova and I'm a\nYou might also like\nI'm a space-bound rocket ship and your heart's the Moon\nAnd I'm aimin' right at you, right at you\nTwo-hundred-fifty-thousand miles on a clear night in June\nAnd I'm aimin' right at you, right at you\nRight at you\n\nI'll do whatever it takes\nWhen I'm with you, I get the shakes\nMy body aches when I ain't with you, I have zero strength\nThere's no limit on how far I would go, no boundaries, no lengths\nWhy do we say that until we get that person that we think's gonna be that one?\nAnd then once we get 'em, it's never the same\nYou want 'em when they don't want you\nSoon as they do, feelings change\nIt's not a contest and I ain't on no conquest for no mate\nI wasn't lookin' when I stumbled onto you, musta been fate\nBut so much is at stake, what the fuck does it take?\nLet's cut to the chase 'fore the door shuts in your face\nPromise me if I cave in and break and leave myself open\nThat I won't be makin' a mistake 'cause I'm a\n\nI'm a space-bound rocket ship and your heart's the Moon\nAnd I'm aimin' right at you, right at you\nTwo-hundred-fifty-thousand miles on a clear night in June\nAnd I'm aimin' right at you, right at you\nRight at you\nSo after a year and six months, it's no longer me that you want\nBut I love you so much it hurts, never mistreated you once\nI poured my heart out to you, let down my guard, swear to God\nI'll blow my brains in your lap, lay here and die in your arms\nDrop to my knees and I'm pleadin', I'm tryna stop you from leavin'\nYou won't even listen, so fuck it, I'm tryna stop you from breathin'\nI put both hands on your throat, I sit on top of you, squeezin'\n'Til I snap your neck like a Popsicle stick, ain't no possible reason\nI can think of to let you walk up out this house and let you live\nTears stream down both of my cheeks, now I let you go and just give\nAnd 'fore I put that gun to my temple, I told you this\n\nAnd I woulda done anything for you\nTo show you how much I adored you\nBut it's over now, it's too late to save our love\nJust promise me you'll think of me\nEvery time you look up in the sky and see a star 'cause I'm a\n\nI'm a space-bound rocket ship and your heart's the Moon\nAnd I'm aimin' right at you, right at you\nTwo-hundred-fifty-thousand miles on a clear night in June\nAnd I'm so lost without you, without you\nWithout you"}
{"text":"Oh, this what we doin'? Alright\nM.A\n\nI like a bitch that like to wobble, wobble\nShake it,\u2005shake\u2005it, break it,\u2005break it, uh\nNigga, we made it,\u2005made it, they hate it, hate it\nPro professional, pure persistent, I'm paper chasing\nI hate complaining, I hated waiting, I'll pay for patience\nBut I hate to pay a bill (Hate that)\nAnd I made a mil' without a major deal (I made that)\nYeah, her ass fake, but she came for real (She came, uh)\nMoney ain't a thing, that ain't a thing for real\nIt's the broke lingo (Huh)\nAnd no, ain't nothing Saweetie, this is no Quavo (Migo)\nMan, I just get high, let my hoes lay low (Ooh)\nI just want some face but this is no facial (Ooh)\nDo right and kill er'body, Drake mode (Hello)\nBitch, I'm tryna eat out, take your plate mode (Hello)\nDisrespect that life and I'm in gang mode (Grrr)\nYou can leave this earth, bitch, I'm in rake mode (Huh)\nI'm in cake mode (Huh), I'm in brave mode, uh\nWhat up, Marshall? I'm a martian, I'm in Wayne mode (Facts)\nNeck wet, big drip, I'm in rain mode (Drip, drip, drip)\nEight niggas, eight hittas, take eight souls (Brrr)\nCollect pesos (Huh), and I'm paid, so? (Paid)\nSelf-made goals (Hey)\nWhen the pain leaves (Huh)\nWhere does the pain go? (Where?)\nTip of the backwood is where the flame goes (There)\nTo the sky is where my brain goes (Wow)\nSame pack, same fiend, sellin' the same clothes (Wow)\nPinocchio and my pistol, they got the same nose\nMe and my niggas gotta eat, we share the same stove (What?)\nCase closed, bodies in my lane, bitch, lane closed\nYou might also like\nGame over, Thanos on you H-O's\nOn my petty shit but I don't paint toes (Yeah)\nGet the plunger (Plunger) 'cause Marshall and M.A go plum crazy\nCall us liquid plumber, 'cause even Dre know (Dre know)\nBeat knocks like a beefed up Detox\nYou're gonna need three squads of police officers at least to come pull me off of it and I don't stop\nPlease, dawg, I need y'all to keep talking shit 'cause I feed off of it\nI am the complete opposite of these retards who spit these weak bars, I'ma leave carnage\nEach thought'll be so toxic, it'll block the wind through your esophagus\nStop it, cutting off your oxygen\nAnd I hit them pads like a boxing gym\nBetter watch for Slim, better get to popping and when I'm at the top again\nI won't topple, I'm giving it to anyone who wanna come and get it and I'm not gonna stop\nBut when they ask me is the war finished with MGK? Of course it is\nI cleansed him of his mortal sins, I'm God and the Lord forgives even the devil worshippers\nI'm moving on but you know your scruples are gone when you're born with Lucifer's horns\nAnd you're from the school of Notorious, Puba, Cube and The Poor Righteous Teachers tutored my students\nShowed them all the blueprint and formula\nBut it seems like the more they studied my music, the more they remind me of eyeballs\nI'm watching my pupils get cornier (Uh)\nBut I'm contemplating yelling \"Bombs away\" on the game\nLike I'm outside of an Ariana Grande concert waiting\n\nThey call me Saddam Hussein, Ayatollah Khomeini\nWhere's Osama been? I been laden lately\nLook at how I'm behaving, they want me gone away\nThey wanna JonBen\u00e9t me (Fuck you), I'm unaccommodating\nMan, I don't see why they hate me (Huh?)\nI'm a clown like John Wayne Gacy (What?)\nThey call me Kanye crazy (Yah)\nAPESHIT, Beyonce, Jay-Z (Woo)\nAnd I'm back with Andre, baby (Yeah)\nAnd the doctor's operating (What?)\nBut he never put no scrubs on from Snoop, K. Dot to Shady\nShady like a shadow or your silhouette, intellect, I better check to see why you feel upset\n'Cause I met your bitch on the internet now I'm getting head like a Pillow Pet\nThat bimbo can put her lips all the way around this bone and then blow\nLike a dusty cartridge from an old Nintendo\nThose were the days but I bet you, I'm never gonna be broke again, no\nI don't smoke but I got paper, to be blunt, I'm rolling Indo\nAnd I keep it one comma, zero, zero, zero, zero\nReal, real, real, murder, murder, murder, kill, kill, kill\nNickel-plated, twenty two, two, two\nBitch, shut the fuck up 'fore I shoot you too\nAin't shit I won't do just to get a few YouTube views\nRun up in a church like pew, pew, pew\n'Cause that's what I do, do, do\nBut, even to the untrained human eye\nWe ain't the same, you and I\nSomebody should have explained to you why\nFor you to go against me, it's simply insane, you will die (Yeah)\nThat's why they call me Kamikaze, it's plain suicide, yeah\nBut I know magic and here go my last trick\nI'm 'bout to say \"Abracadabra\" and pull a B Rabbit up out of my hat\nI'm about to relapse and I betcha that you won't know how to react\nBut a look of disgust, I don't doubt it'd be that\nAs I begin to fuckin' devour the track\nAnd you backpedal, that is a cowardly act\nLike a Saudi attack when the towers collapsed\nThey call me Saddam Hussein, Ayatollah Khomeini\nWhere's Osama been? I been laden lately\nLook at how I'm behaving, they want me gone away\nThey wanna JonBen\u00e9t me (Fuck you), I'm unaccommodating"}
{"text":"Tell me where to go\nTell me what to do\nI'll be right there for you\nTell me what to say\nNo matter if it's true\nI'll say it all for you\nI used to be the type of kid\nThat would always think the sky is fallin'\nWhy am I so differently wired? Am I a martian?\nWhat kind of twisted experiment am I involved in?\n\u2018Cause I don't belong in this world\nThat's why I'm scoffin' at authority, defiant often\nFlyin' off at the handle at my mom\nNo dad, so I am noncompliant at home\nAt school I'm just shy and awkward\nAnd I don't need no goddamn psychologist\nTryna diagnose why I have all these underlyin' problems\nThinkin' he can try and solve 'em\nI'm outside chalkin' up drawings\nOn the sidewalk and in the front drive talkin'\nTo myself, either that or inside hidin' off in\nThe corner somewhere quiet, tryin' not to\nBe noticed \u2018cause I'm cryin' and sobbin'\nI had a bad day at school so I ain't talkin'\nSome cocksucker shoved me into a fuckin' locker\n\u2018Cause he said that I eye-balled him\nYou might also like\nAnd if you fall, I'll get you there\nI'll be your savior from (Yeah) all the wars\nThat are fought inside your world\nPlease have faith in my words\n\u2018Cause this is my legacy, legacy, yeah\nThis is my legacy, legacy, yeah\nThere's no guarantee\nIt's not up to me, we can only see\nThis is my legacy, legacy, legacy, legacy\n\nI used to be the type of kid that would always think the sky's fallin'\nWhy am I so differently wired in my noggin?\n\u2018Cause sporadic as my thoughts come, it's mind-bogglin'\n\u2018Cause I obsess on everything in my mind, small shit\nBothers me, but not my father, he said sayonara\nThen split, but I don\u2019t give a shit\nI'm fine long as there's batteries in my Walkman\nNothing is the matter with me\nShit, look on the bright side, at least I ain't walkin'\nI bike ride through the neighborhood of my apartment\nComplex on a ten-speed which I've acquired parts that\nI find in the garbage, a frame then put tires on it\nHeadphones on, look straight ahead if kids try and start shit\nBut if this is all there is for me life offers\nWhy bother even tryin' to put up a fight? It's nonsense\nBut I think a light bulb just lit up in my conscience\nWhat about them rhymes I've been jottin'?\nThey are kind of giving me confidence\nInstead of tryin' to escape through my comics\nWhy don't I just blast a little something like Onyx?\nTo put me in the mood to wanna fight and write songs that\nSay what I wanna say to the kid that said that I eye-balled him\nGrab hold of my balls, like, \"That's right, fight's on, bitch!\"\nWho woulda knew, from the moment I turned the mic on, that\nI could be iconic in my conquest?\nThat's word to Phife Dawg from A Tribe Called Quest\nThis is my legacy, legacy, yeah\nThis is my legacy, legacy, yeah\nThere's no guarantee\nIt's not up to me, we can only see\nThis is my legacy, legacy, legacy, legacy\nI used to be the type of kid that would always think the sky's fallin'\nNow I think the fact that I'm differently wired's awesome\n\u2018Cause if I wasn't, I wouldn't be able to work words like this\nAnd connect lines like crosswords\nAnd use my enemy's words as strength\nTo try and draw from, and get inspired off 'em\n\u2018Cause all my life I was told and taught I am not shit\nBy you wack fuckin' giant sacks of lyin' dog shit\nNow you shut up, bitch, I am talkin'\nThought I was full of horseshit\nAnd now you fuckin' worship the ground on which I am walkin'\nMe against the world, so what? I'm Brian Dawkins\nVersus the whole 0-16 Lions offense\nSo bring on the Giants, Falcons, and Miami Dolphins\nIt's the body bag game, bitch, I'm supplyin' coffins\n\u2018Cause you dicks butt kiss, bunch of Brian Baldingers\nYou're gon' die a ball-licker, I've been diabolical\nWith this dialogue since '99 Rawkus\nYou don't respect the legacy I leave behind, y'all can\nSuck a dick; the day you beat me, pigs'll fly out my ass\nIn a flyin' saucer full of Italian sausage\nThe most high exaltin' and I ain't haltin'\n'Til I die of exhaustion, inhale my exhaust fumes\nThe best part about me is I am not you\nI'm me, and I'm the Fire Marshall, and this is my\u2014\nThis is my legacy, legacy, yeah\nThis is my legacy, legacy, yeah\nThere's no guarantee\nIt's not up to me, we can only see\nThis is my legacy, legacy, legacy, legacy"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, sick\n(d.a. got that dope)\n\nThey say these bars are like COVID (Bars are like COVID; what?)\nYou get 'em right off the bat (You get 'em right off the bat; yeah)\nInfected with SARS and Corona (Infected with SARS and Corona)\nLike you took a bite off of that (You took a bite off of that; damn)\nAnd it goes from martian to human (From martian to human; yeah)\nThat's how the virus attacks (That's how the virus attacks)\nThey come at me with machine guns (At me with machine guns; brr)\nLike trying to fight off a gnat\nStill stackin' my chips, hoes\nHigher than Shaq on his tiptoes\nAtop the Empire State Buildin'\nThis shit is like child's play, childr\u0435n\nI will anni-nihilate, kill them\nI'll fuck around and pile \u0435ight million\nDead little juveniles, wait, chill, then\nI'll await my trial date 'til then (What?)\nAin't nothin' you say could ever trump (Nah), mic, pencil get killed (Yeah)\nIf you're hypersensitive, I wasn't referencin' the vice president, chill (Chill)\nI mean my penmanship at times tends to get ill, violence but with skill\nThat's why I hence when I write ends up with the mic and pencil gettin' killed (Haha, yeah, hold up)\nAnd I'm still ride or die for the squad (Yeah)\nSo you know which side that I'm on\nIf a battle line's ever drawn, but if I get involved\nIt'll be like K9's in a brawl\nBut not similar to Mike Vick at all\n'Cause even if I don't have a dog in the fight\nThey ain't never gonna get rid of the fight in the dog (Fight in the dog)\nGot stripes like a tiger, so you might get mauled, a mic in the palms\nLike claws, I can swing right for your jaw\nAnd rip it off with one swipe of the paw\nBitch, you still on my dick or nah? (Nah)\nIf I suck, your wife is a straw (Straw)\nI'm sick and I'm not gonna cover my mouth next time that I cough 'cause\nYou might also like\nThey say these bars are like COVID (Bars are like COVID; what?)\nYou get 'em right off the bat (You get 'em right off the bat; yeah)\nInfected with SARS and Corona (Infected with SARS and Corona)\nLike you took a bite off of that (You took a bite off of that; damn)\nAnd it goes from martian to human (From martian to human; yeah)\nThat's how the virus attacks (That's how the virus attacks)\nThey come at me with machine guns (At me with machine guns; brr)\nLike trying to fight off a gnat (Like trying to fight off a gnat; yeah, yeah)\n\nAnd d.a. got that dope he sends to me (Uh-huh)\nIt's like pneumonia symptoms and contracting COVID instantly\nWhich is what separates my flow from theirs\nSo that no one gets even close to this to pose a risk to me\nSo vocalistically (What?), that's social distancing (Yeah)\nFlow going viral, you best stay strapped\nWith that Lysol and get way back (Shh)\nGet that Pine-Sol and that Ajax\n'Cause this dry cough is just like football umpires callin' a playback\nBitch, back the fuck up like fifteen yards, these rhymes call for a face mask (Face mask)\n'Nother fourteen-day quarantine, they're cordoning off everything\nThis shit lookin' like a horror scene, like me metaphorically (Damn)\n'Cause them stay-at-home orders seem\nLike they just keep getting more extreme\nWho knows when this nightmare will end (Marilyn)? Like Monroe, Norma Jean (Norma Jean)\nStill got that heroin lyrical drip with that morphine and that Thorazine\n'Cause I'm so fuckin' dope (Dope) and you're a fiend\nAnd that's the one thing that hasn't changed (Nope)\nFor some semblance of normalcy\nBut I might need that Hydrochloroquine 'cause I got that (Yeah)\nThe Dark Horse, I'm a knight-mare\nMom fed me Valium like air (Mmm)\nThought that's why they called it a high chair (Woah)\nI got a contact like eyewear (Woah)\nWait a minute, bitch, let me lie here (Uh)\n20\/20 hindsight in my side mirror\nEvery year, you drop the ball like Times Square\nMy hair trigger whenever I get an idea's\nLike, fuck, now my name rings out like a sponge mop\nAnd my drip was a drop\nIn the bucket, so that gun shot\nYou just heard just now in that one spot\nJust came from the nine mil' that I just got\nThat's big bucks and I got a full money clip and I'm loaded\nI ain't even mean to go the fuck off\nAnd I'm still totally inappropriate with an opiate\nGroping it while I'm holding it like a trophy\nI'm hoping a little codeine'll get me OD'in'\nWoah, everything is slow, I begin to floating\nI know that I'm getting loaded, the pen exploded\nHiroshima with the flows, a utopia\nWith the dope, I'm an OG, I'm like the G.O.A.T.\u200b\nHere to get your goat little bit of sodium, it's assault (A salt)\nWhen I'm at the podium, at your throat, holy camoly\nI'm in the zone with the shit I'm on\nGet Imodium and a commode because nobody's even close\nYou're petroleum to plutonium, you're a phony\nI'm at the crib with your ho\nGot her at the pole like voting with no clothing\nStripped down to a toe ring and here we go with the gloating\nI've got my nose in the air like a Boeing\nThen I got into a little bit of an argument with her\nSo I took a little lick of a Klonopin at dinner\nThen I hit her with the motherfucking ottoman and bit her\nThen I shot her in the liver, delivered her to the bottom of the river (Dope)\nBut I'm probably gon' jump in the water with her\nWith a wad of money 'cause I got a lot of it\nAnd when it come to drippin', I be soppin' like a hundred mile an hour\nNever runnin' out of either one of 'em, I gotta get it 'cause\nThey say these bars are like COVID (Bars are like COVID; what?)\nYou get 'em right off the bat (You get 'em right off the bat; yeah)\nInfected with SARS and Corona (Infected with SARS and Corona)\nLike you took a bite off of that (You took a bite off of that; damn)\nAnd it goes from martian to human (From martian to human; yeah)\nThat's how the virus attacks (That's how the virus attacks)\nThey come at me with machine guns (At me with machine guns; brr)\nIt's like trying to fight off a gnat (Fight off a gnat)"}
{"text":"You know, I just don't get it\nLast year, I was nobody\nThis year, I'm selling records\nNow everybody wants to come around\nLike I owe 'em somethin'\nThe fuck you want from me\nTen-million dollars?\nGet the fuck outta here\nYou see, I'm just Marshall\nMathers (Marshall Mathers)\nI'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the\nFuss about me (Fuss about me)\nNobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did\nWas doubt me (Did was doubt me)\nNow everybody wanna run they mouth and try to\nTake shots at me (Take shots at me)\n\nYo\nYou might see me joggin', you might see me walkin'\nYou might see me walkin' a dead Rottweiler dog\nWith its head chopped off in the park with a spiked collar\nHollerin' at him 'cause the son of a bitch won't quit barkin' (Ruff ruff)\nOr leanin' out a window with a cocked shotgun\nDrivin' up the block in the car that they shot Pac in\nLookin' for Big's killers, dressin' ridiculous\nBlue and red, like I don't see what the big deal is\nDouble barrel 12-gauge bigger than Chris Wallace\nPissed off 'cause Biggie and Pac just missed all this\nWatchin' all these cheap imitations get rich off 'em\nAnd get dollars that shoulda been theirs like they switched wallets\nAnd amidst all this Crist' poppin' and wristwatches\nI just sit back and just watch and just get nauseous\nAnd walk around with an empty bottle of R\u00e9my Martin\nStartin' shit like some twenty-six-year-old skinny Cartman (Goddamn it!)\nAn anti-Backstreet and Ricky Martin\nWhose instinct's to kill *NSYNC, don't get me started\nThese fuckin' brats can't sing and Britney's garbage\nWhat's this bitch, retarded? Give me back my sixteen dollars!\nAll I see is sissies in magazines smilin'\nWhatever happened to wilin' out and bein' violent?\nWhatever happened to catchin' a good old-fashioned passionate ass-whoopin'\nAnd gettin' your shoes, coat and your hat tooken?\nYou might also like\nNew Kids on the Block suck a lot of dick\nBoy, girl groups make me sick\nAnd I can't wait 'til I catch all you faggots in public\nI'ma love it (Hahaha)\n\nVanilla Ice don't like me (Uh-uh), he said some shit in Vibe to spite me (Yo)\nThen went and dyed his hair just like me (Haha)\nA bunch of little kids wanna swear just like me\nAnd run around screamin' \"I don't care, just bite me!\" (Na-na)\nI think I was put here to annoy the world\nAnd destroy your little four-year-old boy or girl\nPlus I was put here to put fear in faggots who spray Faygo Root Beer\nAnd call themselves clowns 'cause they look queer (Hehe)\nFaggy 2 Dope and Silent Gay\nClaimin' Detroit, when y'all live twenty miles away (Fuckin' punks)\nAnd I don't wrestle, I'll knock you fuckin' faggots the fuck out\nAks 'em about the club they was at when they snuck out\nAfter they ducked out the back when they saw us and bugged out (Ah!)\nDucked down and got paintballs shot at they truck \u2014 blaow!\nLook at y'all runnin' your mouth again\nWhen you ain't seen a fuckin' mile road south of 10\nAnd I don't need help from D12 to beat up two females\nIn make-up who may try to scratch me with Lee Nails\n\"Slim Anus\"? You damn right, slim anus\nI don't get fucked in mine like you two little flamin' faggots\n'Cause I'm just Marshall\nMathers (Marshall Mathers)\nI'm not a wrestler guy, I'll knock you out\nIf you talk about me (Talk about me)\nCome and see me on the streets alone if you assholes\nDoubt me (Assholes doubt me)\nAnd if you wanna run your mouth then come take your best shot\nAt me (Best shot at me)\n\nIs it because you love me that y'all expect so much of me?\nYou little groupie bitch, get off me, go fuck Puffy\nNow because of this blonde mop that's on top\nOf this fucked up head that I've got, I've gone pop?\nThe underground just spunned around and did a three-sixty\nNow these kids diss me and act like some big sissies\n\"Oh, he just did some shit with Missy\nSo now he thinks he's too big to do some shit with MC Get-Bizzy\"\nMy fuckin' bitch mom's suin' for ten-million\nShe must want a dollar for every pill I've been stealin'\nShit, where the fuck you think I picked up the habit?\nAll I had to do was go in her room and lift up her mattress\nWhich is it, bitch: Mrs. Briggs or Ms. Mathers?\nIt doesn't matter, **** ******** **** ******'* * faggot\nTalkin' about I fabricated my past\nHe's just aggravated I won't ejaculate in his ass (Ugh!)\nSo tell me, what the hell is a fella to do?\nFor every million I make, another relative sues\nFamily fightin' and fussin' over who wants to invite me to supper\nAll of a sudden, I got ninety-some cousins (Hey, it's me!)\nA half-brother and sister who never seen me\nOr even bothered to call me until they saw me on TV\nNow everybody's so happy and proud\nI'm finally allowed to step foot in my girlfriend's house (Hey!)\nAnd then to top it off I walked to the newsstand\nTo buy this cheap-ass little magazine with a food stamp\nSkipped to the last page, flipped right fast\nAnd what do I see? A picture of my big white ass\nOkay, let me give you motherfuckers some help, uh, here\n\"XXL! XXL!\"\nNow your magazine shouldn't have so much trouble to sell\nAw, fuck it, I'll even buy a couple myself\n'Cause I'm just Marshall\nMathers (Marshall Mathers)\nI'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the\nFuss about me (Fuss about me)\nNobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did\nWas doubt me (Did was doubt me)\nNow everybody wanna run they mouth and try to\nTake shots at me (Take shots at me)\nBecause I'm just Marshall\nMathers (Marshall Mathers)\nI'm just a regular guy, I don't know why all the\nFuss about me (Fuss about me)\nNobody ever gave a fuck before, all they did\nWas doubt me (Did was doubt me)\nNow everybody wanna run they mouth and try to\nTake shots at me (Take shots at me)"}
{"text":"Aw, look at daddy's baby girl\nThat's daddy's baby, little sleepy head\nYesterday I changed your diaper\nWiped you and powdered you\nHow did you get so big?\nCan't believe it, now you're two\nBaby, you're so precious, daddy's so proud of you\nSit down, bitch! You move again, I'll beat the shit out of you! (Okay!)\nDon't make me wake this baby!\nShe don't need to see what I'm 'bout to do!\nQuit crying, bitch! Why do you always make me shout at you?!\nHow could you just leave me and love him out the blue?!\nOh, what's the matter, Kim? Am I too loud for you?\nToo bad, bitch! You're gonna finally hear me out this time!\nAt first I'm like, \"Aight, you wanna throw me out? That's fine!\"\nBut not for him to take my place, are you out your mind?!\nThis couch, this TV, this whole house is mine!\nHow could you let him sleep in our bed?! Look it, Kim!\nLook at your husband now! (No!) I said look at him!\nHe ain't so hot now, is he?\nLittle punk!\n(Why are you doing this?!) Shut the fuck up! (You're drunk!)\n(You're never gonna get away with this!) You think I give a fuck?!\nCome on! We're going for a ride, bitch! (No!) Sit up front!\n(We can't just leave Hailie alone, what if she wakes up?)\nWe'll be right back, well, I will, you'll be in the trunk\nYou might also like\nSo long, bitch, you did me so wrong\nI don't wanna go on\nLiving in this world without you\nSo long, bitch, you did me so wrong\nI don't wanna go on\nLiving in this world without you\n\nYou really fucked me, Kim, you really did a number on me!\nNever knew me cheating on you would come back to haunt me\nBut we was kids then, Kim, I was only eighteen\nThat was years ago, I thought we wiped the slate clean\nThat's fucked up! (I love you!) Oh God, my brain is racin'\n(I love you!) What are you doing? Change the station!\nI hate this song! Does this look like a big joke? (No!)\nThere's a -year-old little \nLaying dead with a slit throat in your living room!\nHa-ha! What, you think I'm kiddin' you?!\nYou loved him, didn't you? (No!)\nBullshit, you bitch! Don't fucking lie to me!\nWhat the fuck's this guy's problem on the side of me?\nFuck you, asshole! Yeah, bite me!\nKim? Kim! Why don't you like me?\nYou think I'm ugly, don't you? (It's not that!) No, you think I'm ugly\n(Baby!) Get the fuck away from me! Don't touch me!\nI hate you! I hate you! I swear to God, I hate you!\nOh my God, I love you! How the fuck could you do this to me?!\n(I'm sorry!) How the fuck could you do this to me?!\nSo long, bitch, you did me so wrong\nI don't wanna go on\nLiving in this world without you\nSo long, bitch, you did me so wrong\nI don't wanna go on\nLiving in this world without you\n\nCome on, get out! (I can't! I'm scared!)\nI said get out, bitch! (Let go of my hair! Please don't do this, baby! Please! I love you! Look, we can just take Hailie and leave!)\nFuck you!\nYou did this to us! You did it! It's your fault!\n\"Oh my God, I'm crackin' up\" Get a grip, Marshall!\nHey, remember the time we went to Brian's party\nAnd you were, like, so drunk that you threw up all over Archie?\nThat was funny, wasn't it? (Yes)\nThat was funny, wasn't it?! (Yes!)\nSee, it all makes sense, doesn't it?\nYou and your husband have a fight, one of you tries to grab a knife\nAnd during the struggle he accidentally gets his Adam's apple sliced (No!)\nAnd while this is going on, his son just woke up\nAnd he walks in, she panics, and he gets his throat cut\n(Oh my God!)  So now they both dead\nAnd you slash your own throat\nSo now it's double homicide and suicide with no note\nI shoulda known better when you started to act weird\nWe coulda\u2014 hey, where you going? Get back here!\nYou can't run from me, Kim! It's just us, nobody else\nYou're only making this harder on yourself!\nHa-ha, gotcha! Go ahead, yell!\nHere, I'll scream with you, \"Ah! Somebody help!\"\nDon't you get it, bitch? No one can hear you!\nNow shut the fuck up, and get what's comin' to you!\nYou were supposed to love me!\nNow bleed, bitch, bleed! Bleed, bitch, bleed! Bleed!\nSo long, bitch, you did me so wrong\nI don't wanna go on\nLiving in this world without you\nSo long, bitch, you did me so wrong\nI don't wanna go on\nLiving in this world without you\n*crickets, traffic, and trunk closing*"}
{"text":"A lot of people ask me stupid fuckin' questions\nA lot of people think that what I say on a record\nOr what I talk about on a record\nThat I actually do in real life or that I believe in it\nOr if I say that I wanna kill somebody\nThat I'm actually gonna do it or that I believe in it\nWell, shit, if you believe that, then I'll kill you\nYou know why? 'Cause I'm a criminal!\nCriminal! You're goddamn right\nI'm a criminal! Yeah, I'm a criminal!\nMy words are like a dagger with a jagged edge\nThat'll stab you in the head, whether you're a fag or lez\nOr a homosex, hermaph or a trans-a-vest\nPants or dress, hate fags? The answer's yes\nHomophobic? Nah, you're just heterophobic\nStarin' at my jeans, watchin' my genitals bulgin' (Ooh!)\nThat's my motherfuckin' balls, you'd better let go of 'em\nThey belong in my scrotum, you'll never get hold of 'em!\n\"Hey, it's me, Versace! Whoops, somebody shot me!\nAnd I was just checkin' the mail, get it? Checkin' the male?\"\nHow many records you expectin' to sell\nAfter your second LP sends you directly to jail?\nCome on, relax, guy! I like gay men\nRight, Ken? Give me an amen! (A-men!)\n\"Please Lord, this boy needs Jesus\nHeal this child, help us destroy these demons\nOh, and please send me a brand new car\nAnd a prostitute while my wife's sick in the hospital\"\nPreacher, preacher! Fifth grade teacher!\nYou can't reach me, my mom can't neither\nYou can't teach me a goddamn thing 'cause\nI watch TV and Comcast cable\nAnd you ain't able to stop these thoughts\nYou can't stop me from toppin' these charts\nAnd you can't stop me from droppin' each March\nWith a brand new CD for these fuckin' retards (Duh)\nAnd to think, it's just little ol' me\nMr. Don't-Give-a-Fuck still won't leave\nYou might also like\nI'm a criminal!\n'Cause every time I write a rhyme these people think it's a crime\nTo tell 'em what's on my mind, I guess I'm a criminal!\nI don't gotta say a word, I just flip 'em the bird\nAnd keep goin', I don't take shit from no one\nI'm a criminal!\n'Cause every time I write a rhyme these people think it's a crime\nTo tell 'em what's on my mind, I guess I'm a criminal!\nI don't gotta say a word, I just flip 'em the bird\nAnd keep goin', I don't take shit from no one\n\nThe mother did drugs, hard liquor, cigarettes and speed\nThe baby came out, disfigured ligaments, indeed\nIt was a seed who would grow up just as crazy as she\nDon't dare make fun of that baby, 'cause that baby was me\nI'm a criminal, an animal caged who turned crazed\nBut how the fuck you supposed to grow up when you weren't raised?\nSo as I got older and I got a lot taller\nMy dick shrunk smaller, but my balls got larger\nI drank more liquor to fuck you up quicker\nThan you'd wanna fuck me up for sayin' the word\u2014\nMy morals went *thhbbpp* when the president got oral\nSex in his Oval Office on top of his desk off of his own employee\nNow, don't ignore me, you won't avoid me\nYou can't miss me: I'm white, blonde-haired, and my nose is pointy\nI'm the bad guy who makes fun of people that die\nIn plane crashes and laughs as long as it ain't happenin' to him\nSlim Shady, I'm as crazy as Em-\n-inem and Kim combined (The maniac's in)\nIn place of the Doctor 'cause Dre couldn't make it today\nHe's a little under the weather, so I'm takin' his place (Mm-mm-mmm!)\nOh, that's Dre with an AK to his face\nDon't make me kill him too and spray his brains all over the place\nI told you, Dre, you should've kept that thang put away\nI guess that'll teach you not to let me play with it, eh?\nI'm a criminal!\nMEL-MAN: Aight, look\nEMINEM: Uh-huh\nMEL-MAN: Just go up in that motherfucker, get the motherfuckin' money and get the fuck up outta there\nEMINEM: Aight\nMEL-MAN: I'll be right here waitin' on you\nEMINEM: Aight\nMEL-MAN: Yo, Em\nEMINEM: What?!\nMEL-MAN: Don't kill nobody this time\nEMINEM: Awwright\u2026 goddamn, this motherfucker gets on my fuckin' nerves!\n{*Whistling*} How you doin'?\nTELLER: Hi, how can I help you?\nEMINEM: Yeah, I need to make a withdrawal\nTELLER: Okay\nEMINEM: Put the fuckin' money in the bag, bitch, and I won't kill you!\nTELLER: What? Oh my God, don't kill me!\nEMINEM: I'm not gonna kill you, bitch, quit lookin' around\nTELLER: Don't kill me, I've got two kids at home don't kill me!\nEMINEM: I said I'm not gonna fuckin' kill you\nTELLER: Don't kill me!\nEMINEM: Hurry the fuck up! {*Gunshot*} Thank you!\nWindows tinted on my ride when I drive in it (Go, go, go!)\nSo when I rob a bank, run out and just dive in it\nSo I'll be disguised in it and if anybody identifies\nThe guy in it, I hide for five minutes\nCome back, shoot the eyewitness\nFire at the private eye hired to pry in my business\nDie bitches, bastards, brats, pets\nThis puppy's lucky I didn't blast his ass yet\nIf I ever gave a fuck, I'd shave my nuts\nTuck my dick in between my legs and cluck\nYou motherfuckin' chickens ain't brave enough\nTo say the stuff I say, so just tape it shut\nShit, half the shit I say, I just make it up\nTo make you mad, so kiss my white naked ass\nAnd if it's not a rapper that I make it as\nI'ma be a fuckin' rapist in a Jason mask\nI'm a criminal!\n'Cause every time I write a rhyme these people think it's a crime\nTo tell 'em what's on my mind, I guess I'm a criminal!\nI don't gotta say a word, I just flip 'em the bird\nAnd keep goin', I don't take shit from no one\nI'm a criminal!\n'Cause every time I write a rhyme these people think it's a crime\nTo tell 'em what's on my mind, I guess I'm a criminal!\nI don't gotta say a word, I just flip 'em the bird\nAnd keep goin', I don't take shit from no one\n\nI'm a criminal!\n'Cause every time I write a rhyme these people think it's a crime\nTo tell 'em what's on my mind, I guess I'm a criminal!\nI don't gotta say a word, I just flip 'em the bird\nAnd keep goin', I don't take shit from no one\nI'm a criminal!\n'Cause every time I write a rhyme these people think it's a crime\nTo tell 'em what's on my mind, I guess I'm a criminal!\nI don't gotta say a word, I just flip 'em the bird\nAnd keep goin', I don't take shit from no one\n\n(I am) I'm a criminal!"}
{"text":"Feels like a close, it's coming to\nFuck am I gonna do?\nIt's too late to start over\nThis is the only thing I, thing I know\n\nSometimes I feel like all I ever do is\nFind different ways to word the same old song\nEver since I came along\nFrom the day the song called \u201cHi! My Name Is\u201d dropped\nStarted thinking my name was Fault\n\u2018Cause any time things went wrong\nI was the one who they would blame it on\nThe media made me the equivalent\nOf a modern-day Genghis Khan\nTried to argue it was only entertainment, dawg\nGangster? Nah, courageous balls\nHad to change my style, they said I'm way too soft\nAnd I sound like AZ and Nas, out came the claws\nAnd the fangs been out since then\nBut up until the instant that I went against it\nIt was ingrained in me\nThat I wouldn't amount to a shit stain, I thought\nNo wonder I had to unlearn everything my brain was taught\n\"Do I really belong in this game?\", I pondered\nI just wanna play my part\nShould I make waves or not?\nSo back and forth in my brain the tug of war wages on\nAnd I don't wanna seem ungrateful\nOr disrespect the art form I was raised upon\nBut sometimes you gotta take a loss\nAnd have people rub it in your face\nBefore you get made pissed off\nAnd keep plugging, it's your only outlet\nAnd your only outfit, so you know they gonna talk about it\nBetter find a way to counter it quick and make it\u2026 ah\nFeel like I've already said this a kabillion 80 times\nHow many times can I say the same thing\nDifferent ways that rhyme?\nWhat I really wanna say is, if there's anyone else that can relate to my story, bet you feel the same way I felt\nWhen I was in the same place you are, when I was afraid to\u2014\nYou might also like\nI was a, afraid to make a single sound\nAfraid I would never find a way out, out, out\nAfraid I'd never be found (My dreams)\nI didn't wanna go another round (Yeah)\nAn angry man's power will shut you up (Agh!)\nAnd trip wires fill this house with tip-toed love\nRun out of excuses for everyone\nSo here I am and I will not run (Yeah)\n\nGuts over fear (The time is near)\nGuts over fear (Might shed a tear)\nFor all the times I let you push me round\nI let you keep me down (Now I got)\nGuts over fear, guts over fear\n\nFeels like a close, it's coming to\nFuck am I gonna do?\nIt's too late to start over\nThis is the only thing I, thing I know\n\nI know what it was like, I was there once\nSingle parents, hate your appearance\nAs you struggle to find your place in this world\nAnd the pain spawns all the anger on\nBut it wasn't 'til I put the pain in song\nLearned who to aim it on that I made a spark\nStarted to spit harder shit\nLearned how to harness it while the reins were off\nAnd there was a lot of bizarre shit, but the crazy part\nWas soon as I stopped saying I gave a fuck\nHaters started to appreciate my art\nAnd it just breaks my heart to look at all the pain I caused\nBut what am I gonna do when the rage is gone\nAnd the lights go out in that trailer park? Oh\nAnd the window is closing and there's nowhere else that I can go with flows and I'm frozen\n\u2018Cause there's no more emotion for me to pull from\nJust a bunch of playful songs that I make for fun\nSo, to the break of dawn, here I go recycling the same old song\nBut I'd rather make \u201cNot Afraid 2\u201d\nThan make another motherfucking \u201cWe Made You,\u201d ah\nNow, I don't wanna seem indulgent\nWhen I discuss my lows and my highs\nMy demise and my uprise, pray to God\nI just open enough eyes later on\nAnd gave you the supplies and the tools\nTo hopefully use that'll make you strong\nEnough to lift yourself up, when you feel like I felt\n\u2018Cause I can't explain to y'all how dang exhausted my legs felt\nJust having to balance my dang self\nWhen on eggshells, I was made to walk\nBut thank you, Ma, \u2018cause that gave me the\nStrength to cause Shady-mania, so when they empty that stadium\nLeast I made it out of that house\nAnd found a place in this world when the day was done\nSo this is for every kid who all's they ever did\nWas dreamt of one day just getting accepted\nI represent him or her, anyone similar\nYou are the reason that I made this song\nAnd everything you're scared to say\nDon't be afraid to say no more\nFrom this day forward, just let them a-holes talk\nTake it with a grain of salt\u2014and eat their fucking faces off!\nThe legend of the angry blonde\nLives on through you when I\u2019m gone, and to think I was a\u2014\nI was a, afraid to make a single sound\nAfraid I would never find a way out, out, out\nAfraid I'd never be found (My dreams)\nI didn't wanna go another round (Yeah)\nAn angry man's power will shut you up (Agh!)\nAnd trip wires fill this house with tip-toed love\nRun out of excuses for everyone\nSo here I am and I will not run (Yeah)\n\nGuts over fear (The time is near)\nGuts over fear (Might shed a tear)\nFor all the times I let you push me round\nI let you keep me down (Now I got)\nGuts over fear, guts over fear1KEmbed"}
{"text":"When I was just a little baby boy my momma used to\nTell me these crazy things\nShe used to tell me my daddy was an evil man\nShe used to tell me he hated me\nBut then I got a little bit older and I realized\nShe was the crazy one\nBut there was nothin' I could do or say to try to change it\n'Cause that's just the way she was\n\nThey said I can't rap about bein' broke no more\nThey ain't say I can't rap about coke no more (Ahh)\nSlut, you think I won't choke no whore\n'Til the vocal cords won't work in her throat no more? (Ahh)\nThese motherfuckers are thinkin' I'm playin'\nThinkin' I'm sayin' this shit 'cause I'm thinkin' it just to be sayin' it (Ahh)\nPut your hands down, bitch\u2014I ain't gon' shoot you\nI'ma pull you to this bullet and put it through you (Ahh)\nShut up, slut! You're causin' too much chaos\nJust bend over and take it like a slut\u2014okay, Ma?\n\"Oh, now he's rapin' his own mother\nAbusin' a whore, snortin' coke and we gave him the Rollin' Stone cover?\"\nYou goddamn right, bitch, and now it's too late\nI'm triple platinum and tragedies happened in two states\nI invented violence, you vile venomous volatile vicious\nVain Vicodin, *vrin vrin vrin!*\nTexas Chainsaw, left his brains all\nDanglin' from his neck while his head barely hangs on\nBlood, guts, guns, cuts\nKnives, lives, wives, nuns, sluts\nYou might also like\nBitch, I'ma kill you! You don't wanna fuck with me\nGirls neither, you ain't nothin' but a slut to me\nBitch, I'ma kill you! You ain't got the balls to beef\nWe ain't gon' never stop beefin', I don't squash the beef\nYou better kill me, I'ma be another rapper dead\nFor poppin' off at the mouth with shit I shouldn't have said\nBut when they kill me, I'm bringin' the world with me\nBitches too, you ain't nuttin' but a girl to me (I said)\n\nYou don't wanna fuck with\nShady ('Cause why?)\n'Cause Shady will fuckin'\nKill you (Ah, haha)\nI said you don't wanna fuck with\nShady (Why?)\n'Cause Shady will fuckin'\nKill you (Bitch, I'ma kill you!)\n\nLike a murder weapon, I'ma conceal you\nIn a closet with mildew, sheets, pillows, and film you\nFuck with me, I been through Hell, shut the hell up\nI'm tryna develop these pictures of the Devil to sell 'em\nI ain't \"acid rap,\" but I rap on acid\nGot a new blow-up doll and just had a strap-on added\nWhoops! Is that a subliminal hint? No!\nJust criminal intent to sodomize women again\nEminem offend? No, Eminem'll insult\nAnd if you ever give in to him, you give him an impulse\nTo do it again, then if he does it again\nYou'll probably end up jumpin' out of somethin' up on the tenth (Ahh)\nBitch, I'ma kill you! I ain't done, this ain't the chorus\nI ain't even drug you in the woods yet to paint the forest\nA bloodstain is orange after you wash it\nThree or four times in a tub, but that's normal, ain't it, Norman?\nSerial killer hidin' murder material\nIn a cereal box on top of your stereo\nHere we go again, we're out of our medicine\nOut of our minds and we want in yours: let us in\nOr I'ma kill you! You don't wanna fuck with me\nGirls neither, you ain't nothin' but a slut to me\nBitch, I'ma kill you! You ain't got the balls to beef\nWe ain't gon' never stop beefin', I don't squash the beef\nYou better kill me, I'ma be another rapper dead\nFor poppin' off at the mouth with shit I shouldn't have said\nBut when they kill me, I'm bringin' the world with me\nBitches too, you ain't nothin' but a girl to me (I said)\n\nYou don't wanna fuck with\nShady ('Cause why?)\n'Cause Shady will fuckin'\nKill you (Ah, haha)\nI said you don't wanna fuck with\nShady (Why?)\n'Cause Shady will fuckin'\nKill you (Haha)\n\nKnow why I say these things?\n'Cause ladies' screams keep creepin' in Shady's dreams\nAnd the way things seem, I shouldn't have to pay these shrinks\nThese 80 G's a week to say the same things tweece\nTwice, whatever, I hate these things\nFuck shots, I hope the weed'll outweigh these drinks\nMotherfuckers want me to come on their radio shows\nJust to argue with 'em 'cause their ratings stink?!\nFuck that! I'll choke radio announcer to bouncer\nFrom fat bitch to all seventy thousand pounds of her\nFrom principal to the student body and counselor\nFrom in-school to before-school or outta school\nI don't even believe in breathin', I'm leavin'\nAir in your lungs just to hear you keep screamin' for me to seep it\nOkay, I'm ready to go play, I got the machete from O. J.\u200b\nI'm ready to make everyone's throats ache\nYou faggots keep eggin' me on\n'Til I have you at knifepoint, then you beg me to stop?!\nShut up! Give me your hands and feet! I said shut up\nWhen I'm talkin' to you! You hear me? Answer me!\nOr I'ma kill you! You don't wanna fuck with me\nGirls neither, you ain't nothin' but a slut to me\nBitch, I'ma kill you! You don't got the balls to beef\nWe ain't gon' never stop beefin', I don't squash the beef\nYou better kill me, I'ma be another rapper dead\nFor poppin' off at the mouth with shit I shouldn't have said\nBut when they kill me, I'm bringin' the world with me\nBitches too, you ain't nuttin' but a girl to me, bitch, I'ma kill you!\n\nYou don't wanna fuck with\nShady ('Cause why?)\n'Cause Shady will fuckin'\nKill you (Haha)\nI said you don't wanna fuck with\nShady (Why not?)\n'Cause Shady will fuckin'\nKill you\n\nHahaha\nI'm just playin', ladies\nYou know I love you"}
{"text":"America! Ha ha ha! We love you\nHow many people are proud to be citizens\nOf this beautiful country of ours, the stripes and the stars\nFor the rights that men have died for to protect?\nThe women and men who have broke their necks\nFor the freedom of speech the United States government has sworn to uphold\u2026\u00a0or so we're told\n(Yo, I want everybody to listen to the words of this song)\n\nI never would've dreamed in a million years I'd see\nSo many motherfuckin' people who feel like me\nWho share the same views and the same exact beliefs\nIt's like a fuckin' army marchin' in back of me\nSo many lives I touched, so much anger aimed\nIn no particular direction, just sprays and sprays\nAnd straight through your radio waves, it plays and plays\n'Til it stays stuck in your head for days and days\nWho would've thought standin' in this mirror, bleachin' my hair\nWith some peroxide, reachin' for a t-shirt to wear\nThat I would catapult to the forefront of rap like this?\nHow could I predict my words would have an impact like this?\nI must've struck a chord with somebody up in the office\n'Cause Congress keep tellin' me I ain't causin' nothin' but problems\nAnd now they're sayin' I'm in trouble with the government\nI'm lovin' it, I shoveled shit all my life, and now I'm dumpin' it on\nYou might also like\nWhite America! I could be one of your kids\nWhite America! Little Eric looks just like this\nWhite America! Erica loves my shit\nI go to TRL, look how many hugs I get! (Yah!)\nWhite America! I could be one of your kids\nWhite America! Little Eric looks just like this\nWhite America! Erica loves my shit\nI go to TRL, look how many hugs I get!\n\nLook at these eyes, baby blue, baby just like yourself\nIf they were brown, Shady'd lose, Shady sits on the shelf\nBut Shady's cute, Shady knew Shady's dimples would help\nMake ladies swoon, baby (Ooh, baby!) \u2014 Look at my sales!\nLet's do the math: If I was black, I would've sold half\nI ain't have to graduate from Lincoln High School to know that\nBut I could rap, so fuck school, I'm too cool to go back\nGive me the mic! Show me where the fuckin' studio's at\nWhen I was underground, no one gave a fuck I was white\nNo labels wanted to sign me, almost gave up, I was like\n\"Fuck it,\" until I met Dre, the only one to look past\nGave me a chance and I lit a fire up under his ass\nHelped him get back to the top, every fan black that I got\nWas prob'ly his in exchange for every white fan that he's got\nLike damn, we just swapped: sittin' back lookin' at shit, wow\nI'm like my skin is it startin' to work to my benefit now? It's\u2014\nWhite America! I could be one of your kids\nWhite America! Little Eric looks just like this\nWhite America! Erica loves my shit\nI go to TRL, look how many hugs I get! (Yah!)\nWhite America! I could be one of your kids\nWhite America! Little Eric looks just like this\nWhite America! Erica loves my shit\nI go to TRL, look how many hugs I get!\n\nSee, the problem is I speak to suburban kids\nWho otherwise would've never knew these words exist\nWhose moms prob'ly would've never gave two squirts of piss\n'Til I created so much motherfuckin' turbulence\nStraight out the tube, right into your livin' rooms I came\nAnd kids flipped when they knew I was produced by Dre\nThat's all it took, and they were instantly hooked right in\nAnd they connected with me too, because I looked like them\nThat's why they put my lyrics up under this microscope\nSearchin' with a fine tooth comb, it's like this rope\nWaitin' to choke, tightenin' around my throat\nWatchin' me while I write this, like, \"I don't like this note!\"\nAll I hear is: lyrics, lyrics, constant controversy\nSponsors workin' 'round the clock to try to stop my concerts early\nSurely hip-hop was never a problem in Harlem, only in Boston\nAfter it bothered the fathers of daughters startin' to blossom\nSo now I'm catchin' the flak from these activists when they raggin'\nActin' like I'm the first rapper to smack a bitch or say \"faggot\", shit\nJust look at me like I'm your closest pal\nThe poster child, the motherfuckin' spokesman now, for\u2014\nWhite America! I could be one of your kids\nWhite America! Little Eric looks just like this\nWhite America! Erica loves my shit\nI go to TRL, look how many hugs I get! (Yah!)\nWhite America! I could be one of your kids\nWhite America! Little Eric looks just like this\nWhite America! Erica loves my shit\nI go to TRL, look how many hugs I get!\n\nSo to the parents of America, I am the Derringer\nAimed at little Erica to attack her character\nThe ringleader of this circus of worthless pawns\nSent to lead the march right up to the steps of Congress\nAnd piss on the lawns of the White House\nTo burn the *galf*\u200b\u200b and replace it with a Parental Advisory sticker\nTo spit liquor in the faces of this democracy of hypocrisy\nFuck you, Ms. Cheney! Fuck you, Tipper Gore!\nFuck you with the freest of speech this Divided States of Embarrassment will allow me to have! Fuck you!\nHa ha ha, I'm just playin', America\nYou know I love you"}
{"text":"I don't wanna be alone, I don't wanna be\n\nI don't wanna be alone in the\u2005darkness\nI\u2005don't wanna be\u2005alone in the darkness\nI don't wanna\u2005be alone in the darkness anymore\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\n\nHere I am, alone again\nCan't get out of this hole I'm in\nIt's like the walls are closin' in\nYou can't help me, no one can\nI can feel these curtains closin'\nI go to open 'em\nBut something pulls 'em closed again\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nFeels like I'm loathing in Las Vegas\nHaven't got the vaguest why I'm so lost\nBut I'd make you this small wager\nIf I bet you I'll be in tomorrow's paper\nWho would the odds favor?\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nI'm so much like my father, you would think that I knew him\nI keep pacin' this room, Valium, then chase it with booze\nOne little taste, it'll do\nMaybe I'll take it and snooze, then tear up the stage in a few\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nFuck the Colt 45, I'ma need somethin' stronger\nIf I pop any caps, it better be off of vodka\nRound after round after round, I'm gettin' loaded (Haha)\nThat's a lot of shots, huh? (Double entendre)\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nYou might also like\nAnd I don't wanna be alone in the darkness (Yeah)\nI don't wanna be alone in the darkness\nI don't wanna be alone in the darkness anymore\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\n\nNow I'm starin' at the room service menu off a benzo\nI can hear the music continue to crescendo\nI can see the whole fuckin' venue from my window\nThat's when you know you're schizo\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\n'Cause I keep peekin' out the curtain from the hotel\nThe music is so loud\nBut it's almost as though I don't hear no sound\nI should get ready for the show now\nWait, is this the whole crowd? I thought this shit was sold out\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nBut it's only the opening act, it's early, don't overreact\nThen something told me relax\nAnd just hope for the show to be packed\nDon't wanna hit the stage before they fill each row to the max\n'Cause that'd be totally wack\nYou can't murder a show nobody's at\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nBut what if nobody shows? Panic mode\n'Bout to snap and go motherfuckin' wacko at any second\n'Bout to cancel the show just as fans below rush the entrance\nPlan is a go to wreck shit, cameras in all directions\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nThe press is 'bout to go ape shit, bananas on all the networks\nCommando with extra clips, I got ammo for all the hecklers\nI'm armed to the teeth, another Valium, fall off the bed\nHit the ground and crawl to the dresser\nAlcohol on my breath as I reach for the scope\n(Hello darkness, my old friend)\nI'm blackin' out, I'm all out of meds\nWith them benzodiazepines gone\nNow it's just magazines sprawled out on the floor\nFuck the media, I'm goin' all out, this is war\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nAnd I don't wanna be alone in the darkness (Yeah)\nI don't wanna be alone in the darkness\nI don't wanna be alone in the darkness anymore\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\n\nPeople start to show up, time to start the show up\nIt's 10:05 PM and the curtain starts to go up\nAnd I'm already sweatin', but I'm locked and loaded\nFor rapid fire spittin' for all the concert-goers\nScopes for sniper vision, surprise from out of nowhere\nAs I slide the clip in from inside the hotel\nLeanin' out the window, going Keyser S\u00f6ze\nFinger on the trigger, but I'm a licensed owner\nWith no prior convictions, so law says sky's the limit\nSo my supply's infinite, strapped like I'm a soldier\nGot 'em hopping over walls and climbing fences\nSome of them John Travolta, staying alive by inches\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nCops are knockin', oh fuck, thought I blocked the entrance\nGuess show time is over\nNo suicide note, just a note for target distance\nBut if you'd like to know the reason why I did this\nYou'll never find a motive, truth is I have no idea\nI am just as stumped, no signs of mental illness\nJust tryin' to show ya the reason why we're so fucked\n'Cause by the time it's over, won't make the slightest difference\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nAnd I don't wanna be alone in the darkness\nI don't wanna be alone in the darkness\nI don't wanna be alone in the darkness anymore\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\n\nYeah, we do have some breaking news from the Associated Press right now\nJust gonna bring that up because we are hearing\u2014\n(I've come to talk with you again)\nWe have told you that the shooter is dead\nAnd we have just learned that police are saying that the Las Vegas shooter killed himself\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nThat is the bartender there at Mandalay Bay and I believe we're going to hear more from her\n(I've come to talk with you again)\nYeah, we just wanted to share that with you\nYou can see behind me here, this is what he looks like\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nNow we did just tell you that police just earlier...\nMetro was telling us that he killed himself inside the hotel room\n(I've come to talk with you again)\nGood morning, as we come to you on the air\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nWe bring you breaking news, a school shooting (Crushing news)\nAnother school shooting (Eleven people dead)\nReports of a number of fatalities, and this time it is in Santa Fe, Texas\n(I've come to talk with you again)\nThat is just outside Galveston (That no one saw coming)\nA mass shooting at a Southern Californian school (A suspect has been...)\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nWe are following breaking news this morning\nAnother deadly school shooting\nThis one in Santa Fe, Texas, that's just outside Houston\n(I've come to talk with you again)\nTwenty-six killed and twenty others wounded (Houston affiliate is reporting)\nAt least nine people have been killed (Somber words, making it the deadliest shooting in Texas history)\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nFive people dead\nThe attacker opening fire outside the church during a morning worship session\nHe unloaded the chaotic and terror, making his way inside (Five people killed in a workplace shooting, dozens of officers)\n(I've come to talk with you again)\nThis, a deadly shooting at a food festival in Northern California\n(Hello, darkness, my old friend)\nThree people so far dead\nBreaking news (Fifteen wounded)\nA deadly shooting at a newspaper office in Annapolis (A gunman opened fire)\n(I've come to talk with you again)\nNewly-released surveillance video shows the moments leading up to a mass shooting in Dayton, Ohio\nAuthorities say the shooter..."}
{"text":"And I started from the bottom\nLike a snowman\u2014ground-up\nLike round chuck, and still put hands on you\nStayin' wound up is how I spend time (Get it?)\nSucker free, confidence high\nSuch a breeze when I pen rhymes\nI just got that air about me like wind chimes (Yeah)\n'Nother day in the life (Uh)\nUsed to have to scrape to get by (Yeah)\nNow my community's gated and I\nMade it and my neighbors say hi (Say hi)\nI'm givin' 'em pounds, I'm upscale now\nGuess it means I'm way in the sky (Way in the sky)\nBut I still remember the days of\nMinimum wage for general labor\nWelfare recipient since a minor\nLook how government assistance has made ya!\nAdversity, if at first you don't succeed\nPut your temper to more use\n'Cause bein' broke's a poor excuse\nThat should only give you more fuel\nShow 'em why you're you\nSo close, God, it's like I almost got it\nBut close only counts in time bombs and horseshoes\nSo I Unabomb shit\u2014tick, tick, tick\u2014no remorse, pew!\nScrew it, I'm lit, and that attitude I blew up on quick\nThat's why they call me firecracker\nI grew up on WIC\u2014wick, wick, wick\u2014with a short fuse\nI got some important news to report to\nAnyone who thought I was done: nah bitch, not quite\nSpotlight's back on, got my faith, where's yours?\nYou might also like\nDo you still believe in me?\nDidn't I give everything I had to give you to make you see?\nI'll never forget if you turn your back on me now\nAnd walk out, I will never let you live it down\nI'll never quit, do you still believe in me?\n\nMan, I know sometimes\nThese thoughts can be harsh and cold as ice\nTo me they're just ink blots\nI just fling 'em like slingshots and so precise\nSo you might wanna think it over twice (Yeah)\nOr you retards can roll the dice\nBut beef will at least cost you your career\n'Cause even my cheap shots are overpriced\nBut this middle finger's free as a bird\nNuke warhead at birth, hugest forehead on Earth\nToo short for the verse, studied his formula, learned\nHow to incorporate a curse\nPoint it towards corporate America\nStick a fork in and turn\n'Cause four-letter words are more better heard\nThe world force-fed a turd to me, you're getting yours\nBut sometimes I overdo it, but I just get so into it\nI was there consolin' you when no one knew it\nWhen your situation showed no improvement\nI was that door, you walked over to it\nI'm the light at the end of the tunnel\nSo people are always lookin' to me as they're goin' through it\nWhen that tunnel vision is unclear\nShit becomes too much to bear\nSince \"Cleanin' Out My Closet\"\nWhen I was havin' trouble with the snare\nI'm that unrealistic prayer answered\nAnd I'ma get you jacked up like you're tryna fix a flat, uh\nWhen you struggle with despair\nThat double-fisted, bare-knuckles coupled with this pair\nOf nuts I'm cuppin', I am your 'fuck it' switch, nothin' can compare\nDo you still believe in me?\nDidn't I give everything I had to give you to make you see?\nI'll never forget if you turn your back on me now\nAnd walk out, I will never let you live it down\nI'll never quit, do you still believe in me?\n\nStarted from the bottom like a snowman\nOh man, put that in your corncob pipe and smoke that\nBut my battery's low, I'ma need a boost to my pack\nAnd I know that I always got Proof at my back\nI called you \"Proof\" because I knew for a fact\nMy ace in the hole, homie, I'm callin' on you\n'Cause I think I'm slowly startin' to lose faith in it, so\nGive me that inkling and mo\u2013\n\u2013tivation to go, Hussein with the flow\nFake fans that are two-faced didn't show\nLet heartbeats loop, produce hate in my soul\nLayin' vocals two days in a row\nTrue statement, hate to go down this road\nBut there's only one route to cross this bridge\nSo I walk in this bitch with loose change\n'Cause all my dues paid, but this booth's takin' its toll\nBut it's never too late to start a new beginnin'\nThat goes for you too, so what the fuck you gon' do?\nUse the tools you're given!\nOr you're gon' use the cards you're dealt\nAs an excuse for you to not do shit with 'em?\nI used to play the loser\/victim\n'Til I saw the way Proof was driven\nI found my vehicle and I haven't ran out of gas yet\nAnd when they stacked decks, turn handicaps into assets\nFanny packs, hourglasses\nIf time was on my side, I'd still have none to waste\nMan, in my younger days\nThat dream was so much fun to chase\nIt's like I'd run in place\nWhile this shit dangled in front of my face\nBut how do you keep up the pace\nAnd the hunger pangs once you've won the race?\nWhen that dual exhaust is coolin' off\n'Cause you don't got nothin' left to prove at all\n'Cause you done already hit 'em with the coup de gr\u00e2ce\nStill you feel the need to go full tilt\nThat Bruce Willis, that Blue Steel, that true skill\nWhen that wheel's loose, I won't lose will\nDo you still believe?"}
{"text":"Yeah\nTryna figure out the difference\nBut I think\u2014think the lines are starting to get blurred\n\nI'm in a strange place\nI feel like Ma$e when he gave up the game for his faith\nI feel like I'm caged in these chains and restraints\nGrimmin' every stranger in the place while I gaze into space\n\u2018Cause I'm mentally rearrangin' his face\nI need a change of pace\n\u2018Cause the pace I'm workin' at's dangerous\nThere's nowhere to dump this anger, and thanks to this angst\nI done quit chicken heads cold turkey\nAnd started slowly roastin' 'em\n\u2018Cause that's where most of my anger is based\nFuck your feelings\nI feel like I play for the Saints\nI just wanna hurt you\u2014aim for the skanks\nThen aim for all these fake Kanyes, Jays, Waynes, and the Drakes\nI'm frustrated \u2018cause ain't no more N'Sync, now I'm all out of whack\nI'm all out of Backstreet Boys to call out and attack\nI'm goin' all out in this rap shit and whatever the fallout is, I'm strapped for battle\nSuck a duck, crawl out the back\u2014it's a bar fight\nPrepare your arsenal\nAnd beware of bar stools flyin' through the air and bottles breakin', mirrors also\nAnd I ain't stoppin' 'til the swear jar's full\n\"You done called every woman a slut but you're forgetting Sarah, Marshall\" (Palin)\nOh, my bad, slut! And next time I show up to court\nI'll be naked and just wear a law suit\nJudge be like, \"That's sharp\nHow much that motherfucker cost you, smart-ass?\nYou're lucky I don't tear it off you\nAnd jump your bones, you sexy motherfucker!\nYou're so fuckin' gravy, Marshall, I should start callin' you 'au jus'\n\u2018Cause all's you do is spit them lyrics out the wazoo\"\nEvil Twin, take this beat now, it's all you\nI believe people can change but only for the worse\nI coulda changed the world if it wasn't for this verse\u2014so satanic\nK-Mart chains panic \u2018cause they can't even spin back the curse words\n\u2018Cause they're worse when they're reversed, motherfucker\nRekcufrehtom! (Rape your mother)\u2014 Tihs! (Kill your parents)\nAnd these kids are like parrots\nThey run around the house just like terrorists\nScreamin', \"Fuck! Shit! Fuck!\"\nAdult with a childish-like arrogance\nWild ever since the day I came out, I was like, \"Merits?\nFuck that! I'd rather be loud, and I like swearin'\"\nFrom the first album even the gals were like, \"Tight lyrics, dreamy eyes!\"\nBut my fuckin' mouth was nightmarish\nAnd from the start of it you felt like you were part of this and opposition felt the opposite\nSometimes I listen and revisit them old albums often as I can and skim through all them bitches to make sure I keep up with my competition (Haha)\nHogger of beats, hoarder of rhymes\nBorderline genius who's bored of his lines\nAnd that sort of defines where I'm at and the way I feel now\nFeel like I might just strike first, then ignore the replies\nYou might also like\nThere's darkness closing in (Evil twin), there it goes again (My evil twin)\nIt controls my pen (My evil twin), but that ain't me, it's my evil twin\n(Then I step out and see my evil twin, he gives me an evil grin)\nBut he's just a friend (Evil twin) who pops up now and again (Evil twin)\nSo don't blame me (Evil twin), blame him, it's my evil twin\n(Then I step out and see my evil twin, he gives me an evil grin)\n\nWelcome back to the land of the living, my friend\nYou have slept for quite some time\n\nSo who's left? Lady Gaga? Mess with the Bieber?\nNah, F with Christina\nI ain't fuckin' with either Jessica neither: Simpson or Alba\nMy album's just sicker than strep with the fever\nGet the Chloraseptic, Excedrin, Aleve, or\nExtra Strength Tylenol 3s\nFeel like I'm burnin' to death, but I'm freezin'\nBedridden and destined never to leave the\nBedroom ever again, like the legend of Heath-uh-\nLedger\nMy suicide note's barely legible; read the\nBottom, it's signed by the Joker\nLorena said I never can leave her\nShe'll sever my wiener I ever deceive her\nFuck that shit, bitch! Give up my dick for pussy?\nI'll be Jerry Mathers I ever left it to Beaver\nGet them titties cut off tryna mess with a cleaver\nGolly wolly, I vent, heat register, Jesus\nEver since 19946 Dresden it was definitely in my destiny\nWhen on the steps, I met DeShaun at Osborn\nI'd never make it to sophomore\nI just wanted to skip school and rap\nUsed to mop floors, flip burgers, and wash dishes\nWhile I wrote rhymes, tryna get props for 'em\n\u2018Cause I took book smarts and swapped for 'em\nThey were sleepin', I made 'em stop snorin'\nMade 'em break out the popcorn\nNow I've been hip hop in its tip-top form\nSince N.W.A was blarin' through my car windows\nLeanin' on the horn, screamin', \"Fuck the police,\" like cop porn\nFlipped rap on its ear like I dropped corn\nFuck top five, bitch, I'm top four\nAnd that includes Biggie and Pac, whore\nAnd I got an evil twin\nSo who the fuck you think that third and that fourth spot's for?\nAnd crazy as I am, I'm much tamer than him, and I'm nuts\nThen again, who the fuck wants a plain Eminem?\nBut no one's insaner than Slim, look at that (Evil grin)\n(Evil twin) please come in; what was your name again?\nHi! Faggot\nLook who's back with a crab up his ass like a lobster crawled up there\nTwo rabbits, a koala bear, and a ball of hair\nAnd you're all aware I don't got it all upstairs\nGuess that's why I'm an addict and it's so small up there\nPeace to Whitney\nJeez, just hit me\nThat I should call the Looney Police to come get me\n\u2018Cause I'm so sick of bein' the truth\nI wish someone'd finally admit me\nTo a mental hospital with Britney\nOh, LMFAO, no way, Jo-\n-se Baez couldn't beat this rap\u2014O.J., no\nHooray, I'm off the hook like Casey Anthony, hey ho (Hey ho!)\nI sound like I'm tryna sing the fuckin' chorus to \"Hip Hop Hooray\"\nNo, I\u2019m hollerin', you got bottom-end like an 8-0-8\nAnd I (base) whether we're fuckin' off that instead of your face so\nLet your low-end raise, yo\nTango, what you think, ho? Slow dancin' or bowling?\nYou tryin' to hold hands with your homie?\nWhat, you think I'm lookin' for romance \u2018cause I'm lonely?\nChange that tune, you ain't got a remote chance to control me\nHo, I'm only vulnerable when I got a boner\nSuperman try to fuck me over, it won't hurt\nDon't try to fix me, I'm broke, so I don't work\nSo are you, but you're broke \u2018cause you don't work\nBut all bullshit aside, I hit a stride\nStill Shady inside, hair every bit as dyed\nAs it used to be when I first introduced y'all to my skittish side\nAnd blamed it on him when they tried to criticize\n\u2018Cause we are the same\nBitch"}
{"text":"That's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady-Shady!)\n\nI murder a rhyme, one word at a time\nYou never heard of a mind as perverted as mine\nYou better get rid of that .9, it ain't gonna help\nWhat good's it gonna do against a man that strangles himself?\nI'm waitin' for Hell, like Hell, shit, I'm anxious as Hell\nManson, you're safe in that cell, be thankful it's jail\nI used to be my mommy's little angel at twelve\nThirteen, I was puttin' shells in a gauge on a shelf\nI used to get punked and bullied on my block\n'Til I cut a kitten's head off and stuck it in this kid's mailbox\n(Hey Ma', Ma'!)\nI used to give a fuck, now I could give a fuck less\nWhat do I think of success? It sucks, too much press\nI'm stressed, too much cess, depressed, too upset\nIt's just too much mess, I guess I must just blew up quick (Yes)\nGrew up quick (No), was raised right\nWhatever you say is wrong, whatever I say's right\nYou think of my name now whenever you say, \"Hi\"\nBecame a commodity 'cause I'm W-H-I-\nT-E, 'cause MTV was so friendly to me\nCan't wait 'til Kim sees me\nNow, is it worth it? Look at my life, how is it perfect?\nRead my lips, bitch! What, my mouth isn't workin'?\nYou hear this finger? Oh, it's upside down\nHere, let me turn this motherfucker up right now\nYou might also like\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (Shady!)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nI take each individual degenerate's head and reach into it\nJust to see if he's influenced by me, if he listens to music\nAnd if he feeds into this shit, he's an innocent victim\nAnd becomes a puppet on the string of my tennis shoe\n(*Scratches*) My name is Slim Shady\nI been crazy way before radio didn't play me\nThe sensational (*scratch*), \"Back is the incredible!\"\nWith Ken Kaniff, who just finds the men edible\nIt's Ken Kaniff on the Internet\nTryin' to lure your kids with him into bed (Uh)\nIt's a sick world we live in these days\n\"Slim, for Pete's sakes, put down Christopher Reeve's legs!\" (\"Oh, oh, oh, oh!\")\nGeez, you guys are so sensitive\n\"Slim, it's a touchy subject, try and just don't mention it\"\nMind with no sense in it, fried schizophrenic whose eyes get so squinted\nI'm blind from smoke in 'em with my windows tinted\nWith nine limos rented, doin' lines of coke in 'em\nWith a bunch of guys hoppin' out, all high and indo-scented\nAnd that's where I get my name from\nThat's why they call me\u2014\nThey call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back (Back) (Slim Shady!)\n\nI take seven {kids} from {Columbine}, stand 'em all in line\nAdd an AK-47, a revolver, a .9\nA MAC-11 and it oughta solve the problem of mine\nAnd that's a whole school of bullies shot up all at one time (Ahh-! Ahh-ahh-!)\n'Cause I'm Shady, they call me as crazy\nAs the world was over this whole Y2K thing\nAnd by the way, NSYNC, why do they sing?\nAm I the only one who realizes they stink?\nShould I dye my hair pink and care what y'all think\nLip sync and buy a bigger size of earrings?\nIt's why I tend to block out when I hear things\n'Cause all these fans screamin' is makin' my ears ring (Ahh!)\nSo I just throw up a middle finger and let it linger\nLonger than the rumor that I was stickin' it to Christina\n'Cause if I ever stuck it to any singer in showbiz\nIt'd be Jennifer Lopez and Puffy, you know this\nI'm sorry, Puff, but I don't give a fuck\nIf this chick was my own mother, I'd still fuck her with no rubber\nAnd cum inside her and have a son and a new brother\nAt the same time and just say that it ain't mine\u2014what's my name?\nI'm Slim Shady (*scratch*- Slim, I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (*scratch*- I'm back), I'm back (I'm- *scratch*- I'm back)  (Slim Shady!)\nThat's why they call me Slim Shady (*scratches* Slim, I'm back)\nI'm back (I'm back), I'm back\nThey call me Slim Shady (I'm back)\nI'm back (*scratch* I'm back), I'm back\n\nGuess who's b-back, back\nGue-gue-guess who's back (Hi, Mom!)\n{\u200b\u200b*scratch*}\u200b\u200b Guess who's back\n{\u200b\u200b*scratch*}\u200b\u200b Gue\u2014 {\u200b\u200b*scratch*}\u200b\u200b guess who's back\nD-12 {\u200b\u200b*scratch*}\u200b\u200b guess who's back\nGue, gue-gue-gue, guess who's back\nDr. Dre {\u200b\u200b*scratch*}\u200b\u200b guess who's back\nBack back {\u200b\u200b*scratch*}\u200b\u200b back {\u200b\u200b*scratch*}\u200b\u200b\nSlim Shady, 2001\nI'm blew out from this blunt (*sighs*) fuck"}
{"text":"You'd take the clothes off my back and I'd let you (Yeah)\nYou'd steal the food right out my mouth and I'd watch you eat it\nI still don't know why (Yeah)\nWhy I love it so much (Thanks for warning me; yeah)\nOh (Thanks for warning me; yeah)\nYou curse my name in spite to put me to shame (Yeah)\nHang my laundry in the streets, dirty or clean, give it up for fame (Yeah)\nBut I still don't know why (Don't know why)\nWhy I love it so much (Thanks for warning me; yeah, yeah)\nYeah (Thanks for warning me; yeah, yeah)\n\nAnd, baby, it's amazin' I'm in this maze with you\nI just can't crack your code\nOne day, you're screamin' you love me loud\nThe next day, you're so cold\nOne day, you're here (Yeah), one day, you're there (Yeah)\nOne day, you care (Yeah), you're so unfair\nSippin' from your cup 'til it runneth over (Uh, uh; yeah)\nHoly Grail\nUh, Blue told me remind you niggas, uh\nFuck that shit y'all talkin' 'bout, I'm the nigga, uh (Yeah)\nCaught up in all these lights and cameras, uh\nBut look what that shit did to Hammer (Yeah), uh\nGoddamn it, I like it\nBright lights is enticin'\nBut look what it did to Tyson\nAll that money in one night\nThirty mil' for one fight\nBut soon as all that money blows\nAll the pigeons take flight\nFuck the fame, keep cheatin' on me\nWhat I do? I took her back\nFool me twice, that's my bad\nI can't even blame her for that\nEnough to make me wanna murder\nMomma, please just get my bail\nI know nobody to blame\nKurt Cobain, I did it to myself, uh\nYou might also like\nAnd we all just entertainers\nAnd we're stupid and contagious (Yeah)\nNo, we all just entertaine\u2014\n\nAnd, baby, it's amazin' I'm in this maze with you\nI just can't crack your code\nOne day, you're screamin' you love me loud\nThe next day, you're so cold\nOne day, you're here, one day, you're there\nOne day, you care, you're so unfair\nSippin' from your cup 'til it runneth over\nHoly Grail (Yeah)\nNow I got tattoos on my body\nPsycho bitches in my lobby\nI got haters in the paper\nPhoto shoots with paparazzi (Yeah)\nCan't even take my daughter for a walk\nSee 'em by the corner store\nI feel like I'm cornered off\nEnough is enough, I'm callin' this off (Yeah)\nWho the fuck I'm kiddin' though?\nI'm gettin' high, sittin' low\nSlidin' by in that big body\nCurtains all in my window (Yeah)\nThis fame hurt, but this chain worse\nI think back you asked the same person\nIf this is all you had to deal with\nNigga, deal with, this shit ain't work\nThis light work, camera snappin', my eyes hurt\nNiggas dyin' back where I was birthed\nFuck your iris and the IRS (Yeah)\nGet the hell up off your high horse\nYou got the shit that niggas die for, dry yours\nWhy you mad? Take the good with the bad\nOr throw the baby out with that bath water\nYou're still alive, still that nigga\nNigga, you survived, still gettin' bigger\nNigga, livin' the life, vanilla wafers in a villa\nIllest nigga alive, Michael Jackson's Thriller\n\nAnd, baby, it's amazin' I'm in this maze with you\n(Uh, uh, uh, uh)\nI just can't crack your code (Uh, uh-uh, uh, uh-uh, uh)\nOne day, you're screamin' you love me loud\nThe next day, you're so cold (Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)\nOne day, you're here, one day, you're there\nOne day, you care, you're so unfair (Uh, uh, uh, uh)\nSippin' from your cup 'til it runneth over\nHoly Grail (Yeah)\n\nYou get the air out my lungs whenever you need it (Yeah)\nAnd you take the blade right out my heart\nJust so you can watch me bleed (Yeah)\nAnd I still don't know why (Don't know why)\nWhy I love you so much (Yeah, thanks for warning me)\nYeah (Thanks for warning me)\n(Yeah) And you play this game in spite to drive me insane (Yeah)\nI got it tattooed on my sleeve forever in ink\nWith guess whose name?\nBut I still don't know why (Yeah, don't know why)\nWhy our love is so much (Thanks for warning me; yeah)\nYeah (Thanks for warning me; yeah)\nAnd, baby, it's amazin' I'm in this maze with you\n(Uh, uh, uh, uh)\nI just can't crack your code (Uh, uh-uh, uh, uh-uh, uh)\nOne day, you're screamin' you love me loud\nThe next day, you're so cold (Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)\nOne day, you're here, one day, you're there\nOne day, you care, you're so unfair (Uh, uh, uh, uh)\nSippin' from your cup 'til it runneth over\nHoly Grail (Yeah)\n\nOoh-ooh-ooh\n(Holy, holy, holy, holy, holy, holy grail, yeah)\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\n(Holy, holy, holy, holy, holy, holy grail, yeah)\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\n(Holy, holy, holy)\nDon't know why"}
{"text":"Yeah\n\nYeah, I'm out that Brooklyn, now I'm down in Tribeca\nRight next to De Niro, but I'll be hood forever\nI'm the new Sinatra, and since I made it here\nI can make it anywhere, yeah, they love me everywhere\nI used to cop in Harlem, hola, my Dominicanos (D\u00edmelo!)\nRight there up on Broadway, brought me back to that McDonald's\nTook it to my stash spot, 560 State Street\nCatch me in the kitchen, like a Simmons whippin' pastry\nCruisin' down 8th Street, off-white Lexus\nDrivin' so slow, but BK is from Texas\nMe? I'm out that Bed-Stuy, home of that boy Biggie\nNow I live on Billboard and I brought my boys with me\nSay \"What up?\" to Ty Ty, still sippin' Mai Tais\nSittin' courtside, Knicks and Nets give me high fives\nNigga, I be spiked out (Come on), I could trip a referee (Come on)\nTell by my attitude (Come on) that I'm most definitely from\n\nIn New York (Ayy, uh, yeah; aha)\nConcrete jungle (Yeah) where dreams are made of\nThere's nothin' you can't do (Yeah, okay)\nNow you're in New York (Aha, aha, aha; uh, yeah)\nThese streets will make you feel brand-new (New)\nBig lights will inspire you (Come on) (Okay)\nLet's hear it for New York (You welcome, OG; uh)\nNew York (Yeah), New York (Uh, I made you hot, nigga)\nYou might also like\nCatch me at the X with OG at a Yankee game\nShit, I made the Yankee hat more famous than a Yankee can\nYou should know I bleed blue, but I ain't a Crip though\nBut I got a gang of niggas walkin' with my clique though\nWelcome to the meltin' pot, corners where we sellin' rock\nAfrika Bambaataa shit, home of the hip-hop\nYellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holla back\nFor foreigners, it ain't fair, they act like they forgot how to add\nEight million stories out there in the naked\nCity, it's a pity half of y'all won't make it\nMe? I gotta plug Special Ed, \"I Got It Made\"\nIf Jeezy's payin' LeBron, I'm payin' Dwyane Wade\nThree dice cee-lo, three-card Marley\nLabor Day Parade\u2014rest in peace, Bob Marley\nStatue of Liberty, long live the World Trade (Come on, come on)\nLong live the king, yo (Come on)\u2014I'm from the Empire State, that's\nIn New York (Ayy; uh, yeah)\nConcrete jungle where dreams are made of\nThere's nothin' you can't do (That boy good, okay)\nNow you're in New York (Uh, yeah, welcome to the bright lights, baby)\nThese streets will make you feel brand-new\nBig lights will inspire you (Okay)\nLet's hear it for New York (Uh)\nNew York (Yeah), New York (Uh)\nLights is blinding, girls need blinders\nOr they could step out of bounds quick, the side lines is\nLined with casualties who sip the life casually\nThen gradually become worse\u2014don't bite the apple, Eve!\nCaught up in the in-crowd, now you're in-style\nInto the winter gets cold, en vogue with your skin out\nCity of sin is a pity on a whim\nGood girls gone bad, the city's filled with them\nMami took a bus trip, now she got her bust out\nEverybody ride her, just like a bus route\n\"Hail Mary\" to the city, you're a virgin\nAnd Jesus can't save you, life starts when the church end\nCame here for school, graduated to the high life\nBall players, rap stars, addicted to the limelight\nMDMA (Come on) got you feelin' like a champion (Come on)\nThe city never sleeps (Come on), better slip you a Ambien\nIn New York (Ayy, ow, uh, yeah)\nConcrete jungle where dreams are made of\nThere's nothin' you can't do (Okay)\nNow you're in New York (Uh, yeah)\nThese streets will make you feel brand-new\nBig lights will inspire you (Okay)\nLet's hear it for New York (Uh)\nNew York (Yeah), New York (Uh)\nOne hand in the air for the big city (Oh)\nStreet lights, big dreams, all lookin' pretty (Oh)\nNo place in the world that could compare (Nah)\nPut your lighters in the air, everybody say\n\"Yeah, yeah\" (Come on, come on)\n\"Yeah, yeah\" (Come on)\n\nIn New York (Uh, yeah, oh)\nConcrete jungle where dreams are made of\nThere's nothin' you can't do (Okay)\nNow you're in New York (Uh, yeah, yeah)\nThese streets will make you feel brand-new\nBig lights will inspire you (Okay)\nLet's hear it for New York (Uh)\nNew York (Yeah), New York (Uh)"}
{"text":"Who wants that perfect love story anyway, anyway?\nClich\u00e9, clich\u00e9, clich\u00e9, clich\u00e9\nWho wants that hero love that saves the day, anyway?\nClich\u00e9, clich\u00e9, clich\u00e9, clich\u00e9\nWhat about the bad guy goes good, yeah?\nAn innocent love I'm misunderstood, yeah?\nBlack hour glass, our glass\nToast to clich\u00e9s in a dark past\nToast to clich\u00e9s in a dark past\n\nBoy meets girl, girl perfect woman\nGirl get to bustin' before the cops come running\nChuck the deuces, chugging D'USS\u00c9, ugh\nFuck what you say, boys in blue say\n\nI don't care if we on the run\nBaby as long I'm next to you\n(Uhuu)\nAnd if loving you is a crime\nTell me why do I bring out the best in you\nWhy\n\nI hear sirens while we make love\nLoud as hell, but they don't know\nThey're nowhere near us\nI will hold your heart and your gun\nI don't care if they come, noooo\nI know it's crazy but\nYou might also like\nThey can take me\nNow that I found the places that you\nTake me\nWithout you I got nothing to lose\n\nI'm an outlaw, got an outlaw chick\nBumping 2Pac, on my outlaw shit\nMatching tats, this Ink don't come off\nEven if rings come off, if things ring off\nMy nails get dirty, my past ain't pretty\nMy lady is, my Mercedes is\nMy baby momma harder than a lot of you niggas\nKeep it 100, hit the lottery niggas\nYou ain't about that life ain't gotta lie to me, nigga\nYou know it's till the death, I hope it's obvi to niggas\nUgh\nCross the line, speak about mine\nI'ma wave this TEC, I'm a geek about mine\nTouch a nigga where his rib at, I click clack\nPush your mothafuckin' wig back, I did that\nI been wilding since a juvi, she was a good girl\n'til she knew me, now she is in the drop bustin' Uey's, screaming\n\nThey can take me\nNow that I found the places that you\nTake me\nWithout you I got nothing to lose\nDeeper than words, beyond right\nDie for your love, beyond life\nSweet as a Jesus piece, beyond ice\nBlind me baby with your neon lights\nRay Bans on, police in sight\nOh, what a beautiful death, let's both wear white\nIf you go to heaven and they bring me to hell\nJust sneak out and meet me, bring a box of L's\nShe fell in love with the bad guy, the bad guy\nWhat you doing with them rap guys, them rap guys\nThey ain't see potential in me girl, but you see it\nIf it's me and you against the world, then so be it\n\nI don't care if they give me life\nI get all of my life from you\n(Uhuu)\nAnd if loving you had a price\nI would pay my life for you\n\nI hear sirens while we make love\nLoud as hell, but they don't know\nThey're nowhere near us\nI will hold your heart and your gun\nI don't care if they come, noooo\nI know it's crazy but\nI don't care I'll never give it up\nGive it up, give it up, give it all away\nNo I swear I'll never give it up\nGive it up, give it up, give it all away\nI don't care I'll never give it up\nGive it up, give it up, give it all away\nNo I swear I'll never give it up\nGive it up, give it up, give it all away\n(Without you I got nothing to lose)"}
{"text":"Skin is, skin is\nSkin black, my skin is black\nMy, black, my skin is yellow\n\nLight nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga\nRich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga\nStill nigga, still nigga\nI like that second one\nLight nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga\nRich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga\nStill nigga, still nigga\n\nO.J. like, \"I'm not black, I'm O.J.,\" okay\n\nHouse nigga, don't fuck with me\nI'm a field nigga, with shined cutlery\nGold-plated quarters, where the butlers be\nI'ma play the corners where the hustlers be\nI told him, \"Please don't die over the neighborhood\nThat your mama rentin'\nTake your drug money and buy the neighborhood\nThat's how you rinse it\"\nI bought every V12 engine\nWish I could take it back to the beginnin'\nI coulda bought a place in DUMBO before it was DUMBO\nFor like 2 million\nThat same building today is worth 25 million\nGuess how I'm feelin'? Dumbo\nYou might also like\nLight nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga\nRich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga\nStill nigga, still nigga\nLight nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga\nRich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga\nStill nigga, still nigga\n\nYou wanna know what's more important than throwin' away money at a strip club? Credit\nYou ever wonder why Jewish people own all the property in America? This how they did it\n\nFinancial freedom my only hope\nFuck livin' rich and dyin' broke\nI bought some artwork for one million\nTwo years later, that shit worth two million\nFew years later, that shit worth eight million\nI can't wait to give this shit to my children\nY'all think it's bougie, I'm like, it's fine\nBut I'm tryin' to give you a million dollars worth of game for $9.99\nI turned that 2 to a 4, 4 to an 8\nI turned my life into a nice first week release date\nY'all out here still takin' advances, huh?\nMe and my niggas takin' real chances, uh\nY'all on the 'Gram holdin' money to your ear\nThere's a disconnect, we don't call that money over here, yeah\nLight nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga\nRich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga\nStill nigga, still nigga\nLight nigga, dark nigga, faux nigga, real nigga\nRich nigga, poor nigga, house nigga, field nigga\nStill nigga, still nigga"}
{"text":"Do I find it so hard\nWhen I know in my heart\nI'm letting you down every day\nLetting you down every day\nWhy do I keep on running away?\n\nLook, I apologize, often womanize\nTook for my child to be born, see through a woman's eyes\nTook for these natural twins to believe in miracles\nTook me too long for this song, I don't deserve you\nI harassed you out in Paris\n\"Please come back to Rome, you make it home\"\nWe talked for hours when you were on tour\n\"Please pick up the phone, pick up the phone!\"\nI said: \"Don't embarrass me\" instead of \"Be mine\"\nThat was my proposal for us to go steady\nThat was your 21st birthday\nYou matured faster than me, I wasn't ready\nSo I apologize\nI seen the innocence leave your eyes\nI still mourn its death and\nI apologize for all the stillborns\n'Cause I wasn't present, your body wouldn't accept it\nI apologize to all the women whom I toyed with your emotions\n'Cause I was emotionless\nAnd I apologize 'cause at your best, you are love\nAnd because I fall short of what I say I'm all about\nYour eyes leave with the soul that your body once housed\nAnd you stare blankly into space\nThinkin' of all the time, you wasted it on all this basic shit\nSo I apologize\nYou might also like\nI'm never gonna treat you\nI'm never gonna treat you like I should\nOh\n\nI apologize\nOur love was one for the ages and I contained us\nAnd all this ratchet shit and we more expansive\nNot meant to cry and die alone in these mansions\nOr sleep with our back turned\nWe supposed to vacay 'til our backs burn\nWe're supposed to laugh 'til our heart stops\nAnd then meet in a space where the dark stop\nAnd let love light the way\nLike the men before me, I cut off my nose to spite my face\nI never wanted another woman to know\nSomething about me that you didn't know\nI promised, I cried, I couldn't hold\nI suck at love, I think I need a do-over\nI will be emotionally available if I invited you over\nI stew over; \"What if\u2014\"\n\"You over my shit?\"\n\nI'm never gonna treat you\nI'm never gonna treat you like I should\nOh\nAnd if my children knew\nI don't even know what I would do\nIf they ain't look at me the same\nI would prob'ly die with all the shame\n\"You did what with who?\"\nWhat good is a m\u00e9nage \u00e0 trois when you have a soulmate?\n\"You risked that for Blue?\"\nIf I wasn't a superhero in your face\nMy heart breaks for the day I have to explain my mistakes\nAnd the mask goes away\nAnd Santa Claus is fake\nAnd you go online and see\nFor Blue's tooth, the tooth fairy didn't pay\n\nI'm never gonna treat you like I should"}
{"text":"Clap for a nigga with his rapping ass\nBlow a stack for your niggas with your trapping ass\nClap for a nigga with his rapping ass\nBlow a stack for your niggas with your trapping ass\n\nTom Ford\nTom Ford\nTom Ford\nComing up, coming down\nRiding clean fix your hair in my Crown\nBad bitch, H town\nKeep it trill, y'all know y'all can't fuck around\n\nParis where we been, pard' my Parisian\nIt's Hov time in no time, it's fuck-all-y'all season\nPiss Bordeaux and Burgundies, flush out a Riesling\nWhen Hov's out, them hoes out, y'all put y'all weaves in, and\nClap for a nigga with his rapping ass\nBlow a stack for your niggas with your trapping ass\nSpent all my euros on tuxes and weird clothes\nI party with weirdos, yeah Hov, yeah Hov\nYou might also like\nI don't pop molly, I rock Tom Ford\nInternational bring back the Concorde\nNumbers don't lie, check the scoreboard\nTom Ford\nTom Ford\nTom Ford\n\nHands down got the best flow, sound I'm so special\nSound boy burial, this my Wayne Perry flow\nY'all know nothing 'bout Wayne Perry though\nDistrict of Columbia, guns on y'all Tumblrs\nFuck hashtags and retweets, nigga\nPardon my laughing, y'all only flagging on beats, nigga\nPardon my laughing, I happen to think you sweet\n\nI don't pop molly, I rock Tom Ford\nInternational bring back the Concorde\nNumbers don't lie, check the scoreboard\nTom Ford\nTom Ford\nTom Ford\nOh, man, homie, so throwed\nComing up, coming down\nRiding clean fix your hair in my Crown\nBad bitch, H town\nKeep it trill, y'all know y'all can't fuck around\n\nHold up\nI don't pop molly, I rock Tom Ford"}
{"text":"\"A little over a year ago I was in bondage. And now I'm back out here, reaping the blessings, and getting the benefits that go along with it. Everything that's out here for kings like us. The reason why we like this\u2014this jewelry and this diamonds and stuff\u2014they don't understand, it's because we really from Africa. And that's where all this stuff come from. And we originated from kings, you know what I'm saying? So don't look down on the youngsters because they wanna have shiny things. It's in our genes, know what I'm saying? We just don't all know our history, so\u2026\"\n\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nSexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it\nCome fuck with me, you know I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nSexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it\nCome fuck with me, you know I got it\nI just landed in Europe, nigga\nShoppin' bags, I'm a tourist, nigga\nMoney talk, I speak fluent, nigga\nReeboks on, I just do it, nigga\nLook at me, I'm pure, nigga\nI bet the hoes on my tour, nigga\nI don't bop, I do the money dance\nMy bitch whip cost a hundred grand\n\nRed vert, you see me slide\nSexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it\nSexy bitch, I know she 'bout it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nYou might also like\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nSexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it\nCome fuck with me, you know I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nSexy bitch, I hope she 'bout it\nCome fuck with me, you know I got it\nHov just landed in Rome, nigga\nAll hail, Caesar's home, niggas\nCent'anni, ciao bella\nCome money dance with the good fellas\nHov keep gettin' that dinero, got it\nEven if a nigga gotta rob it, get it?\nBlack Jack in a casino\nA nigga got unlimited credit, uh\nA nigga got a lot of vendettas, uh\nBut we the Black mob, we gon' set it, uh\nPeel off in a Lamborghini Countach\nLucky Luciano is what they call me, paesano\nA 100 keys at the piano\nPlays across the Verrazano\nEl Padrino, in the villa in Venice, sippin' vino\nNot bad for a mulignan\nY'all know like we know, I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nBad bitch, I hope she 'bout it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nFuck with me, you know I got it\nBad bitch, I hope she 'bout it\nBad bitch, I know she 'bout it\n\nI'm ridin' big, comin' down that beach\nGeechi niggas with satin sheets\nBad bitch, she a masterpiece\nGot a bad bitch, she a master; peace"}
{"text":"Motherfuckers say that I'm foolish, I only talk about jewels (Bling-bling)\nDo you fools listen to music or do you just skim through it?\nSee, I'm influenced by the ghetto you ruined\nThe same dude you gave nothin', I made somethin' doin'\nWhat I do through and through and\nI give you the news with a twist, it's just his ghetto point of view\nThe renegade, you been afraid I penetrate pop culture\nBring 'em a lot closer to the block where they pop toasters\nAnd they live with they moms, got dropped roadsters\nFrom botched robberies, niggas crouched over\nMami's knocked up 'cause she wasn't watched over\nKnocked down by some clown\nWhen child support knocked, \"No, he's not around\"\nNow, how that sound to ya? Jot it down\nI bring you through the ghetto without ridin' 'round\nHidin' down, duckin' strays from frustrated youths stuck in they ways\nJust read a magazine that fucked up my day\nHow you rate music that thugs with nothin' relate to it?\nI help them see they way through it, not you\nCan't step in my pants, can't walk in my shoes\nBet everything you worth, you'll lose your tie and your shirt\nSince I'm in a position to talk to these kids and they listen\nI ain't no politician, but I'll kick it with 'em a minute\n'Cause see, they call me a menace and if the shoe fits, I'll wear it\nBut if it don't, then y'all'll swallow the truth, grin and bear it\nNow who's the king of these rude, ludicrous, lucrative lyrics?\nWho could inherit the title, put the youth in hysterics\nUsin' his music to steer it, sharin' his views and his merits?\nBut there's a huge interference, they're sayin' you shouldn't hear it\nMaybe it's hatred I spew, maybe it's food for the spirit\nMaybe it's beautiful music I made for you to just cherish\nBut I'm debated, disputed, hated and viewed in America\nAs a motherfuckin' drug addict, like you didn't experiment?\nNow, now, that's when you start to stare at who's in the mirror\nAnd see yourself as a kid again, and you get embarrassed\nAnd I got nothin' to do but make you look stupid as parents\nYou fuckin' do-gooders, too bad you couldn't do good at marriage (Haha)\nAnd do you have any clue what I had to do to get here?\nI don't think you do, so stay tuned and keep your ears glued to the stereo\n'Cause here we go, he's Jigga-Jur-Jigga-Jih-Jigga\nAnd I'm the sinister Mr. Kiss-My-Ass is just a\nYou might also like\nRenegade, never been afraid to say\nWhat's on my mind at any given time of day\n'Cause I'm a renegade\nNever been afraid to talk about anything\n(Anything?), anything (Anything)\nRenegade, never been afraid to say\nWhat's on my mind at any given time of day\n'Cause I'm a renegade\nNever been afraid to holler about anything\n(Anything?), anything (Anything)\n\nI had to hustle, my back to the wall, ashy knuckles\nPockets filled with a lotta lint, not a cent\nGotta vent, lotta innocent lives lost on the project bench\nWhat you hollerin'? Gotta pay rent, bring dollars in\nBy the bodega, iron under my coat, feelin' braver\nDurag wrappin' my waves up, pockets full of hope\nDo not step to me\nI'm awkward, I box lefty\nAn orphan, my pops left me\nAnd often my mama wasn't home\nCould not stress to me, I wasn't grown\n'Specially on nights I brought somethin' home to quiet the stomach rumblings\nMy demeanor thirty years my senior\nMy childhood didn't mean much, only raisin' green up\nRaisin' my fingers to critics, raisin' my head to the sky\nBig, I did it, multi before I die\nNo lie, just know I chose my own fate\nI drove by the fork in the road and went straight\nSee, I'm a poet to some, a regular modern-day Shakespeare\nJesus Christ, the king of these Latter-day Saints here\nTo shatter the picture in which of that as they paint me as\nA monger of hate, satanist, scatter-brained atheist\nBut that ain't the case, see, it's a matter of taste\nWe as a people decide if Shady's as bad as they say he is\nOr is he the latter, a gateway to escape?\nMedia scapegoat who they can be mad at today\nSee, it's as easy as cake, simple as whistlin' \"Dixie\"\nWhile I'm wavin' the pistol at sixty Christians against me\nGo to war with the Mormons, take a bath with the Catholics\nIn holy water, no wonder they tried to hold me under longer\nI'm a motherfuckin' spiteful, delightful eyeful\nThe new Ice Cube, motherfuckers hate to like you\nWhat did I do? (Huh?), I'm just a kid from the gutter\nMakin' his butter off these bloodsuckers, 'cause I'm a motherfuckin'\n\nRenegade, never been afraid to say\nWhat's on my mind at any given time of day\n'Cause I'm a renegade\nNever been afraid to talk about anything\n(Anything?), anything (Anything)\nRenegade, never been afraid to say\nWhat's on my mind at any given time of day\n'Cause I'm a renegade\nNever been afraid to holler about anything\n(Anything?), anything (Anything)\nRenegade, never been afraid to say\nWhat's on my mind at any given time of day\n'Cause I'm a renegade\nNever been afraid to talk about anything\n(Anything?), anything (Anything)\nRenegade, never been afraid to say\nWhat's on my mind at any given time of day\n'Cause I'm a renegade\nNever been afraid to holler about anything\n(Anything?), anything (Anything)"}
{"text":"If you're havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son\nI got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one\nI've got the Rap Patrol on the gat patrol\nFoes that wanna make sure my casket's closed\nRap critics that say he's Money, Cash, Hoes\nI'm from the hood, stupid! What type of facts are those?\nIf you grew up with holes in your zapatos\nYou'd celebrate the minute you was havin' dough\nI'm like, \"Fuck critics, you can kiss my whole asshole!\nIf you don't like my lyrics, you can press fast forward\"\nGot beef with radio if I don't play they show\nThey don't play my hits, well, I don't give a shit, so\nRap mags try and use my black ass\nSo advertisers can give 'em more cash for ads\nFuckers, I don't know what you take me as\nOr understand the intelligence that Jay Z has\nI'm from rags to riches, niggas, I ain't dumb\nI got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one \u2013 hit me!\n\nNinety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one\nIf you're havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son\nI got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one \u2013 hit me!\nYou might also like\nThe year is '94, in my trunk is raw\nIn my rearview mirror is the motherfuckin' law\nGot two choices, y'all: pull over the car or\nBounce on the devil, put the pedal to the floor\nAnd I ain't tryin' to see no highway chase with Jake\nPlus I got a few dollars, I can fight the case\nSo I pull over to the side of the road\nI heard, \"Son, do you know why I'm stopping you for?\"\n\u2018Cause I'm young and I'm black and my hat's real low?\nDo I look like a mind reader, sir? I don't know\nAm I under arrest or should I guess some more?\n\"Well, you was doing fifty-five in a fifty-four\nLicense and registration and step out of the car\nAre you carrying a weapon on you? I know a lot of you are\"\nI ain't steppin' out of shit, all my paper's legit\n\"Well, do you mind if I look around the car a little bit?\"\nWell, my glove compartment is locked, so is the trunk in the back\nAnd I know my rights, so you gon' need a warrant for that\n\"Aren't you sharp as a tack?\nYou some type of lawyer or something?\nSomebody important or something?\"\nWell, I ain't passed the bar, but I know a little bit\nEnough that you won't illegally search my shit\n\"Well, we'll see how smart you are when the K9 come!\"\nI got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one \u2013 hit me!\nNinety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one\nIf you're havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son\nI got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one \u2013 hit me!\nNinety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one\nIf you're havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son\nI got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one\n\nNow once upon a time not too long ago\nA nigga like myself had to strong-arm a ho\nThis is not a ho in the sense of havin' a pussy\nBut a pussy havin' no goddamn sense, try and push me\nI try to ignore him, talk to the Lord\nPray for him, but some fools just love to perform\nYou know the type, loud as a motorbike\nBut wouldn't bust a grape in a fruit fight\nAnd only thing that's gon' happen is I'ma get to clappin'\nAnd he and his boys gonna be yappin' to the Captain\nAnd there I go, trapped in the Kit-Kat again\nBack through the system with the riff-raff again\nFiends on the floor, scratchin' again\nPaparazzis with they cameras, snappin' em\nD.A. try to give a nigga shaft again\nHalf a mil' for bail \u2018cause I'm African\nAll because this fool was harassin' them\nTryin' to play the boy like he's saccharine\nBut ain't nothin' sweet 'bout how I hold my gun\nI got ninety-nine problems, bein' a bitch ain't one \u2013 hit me!\nNinety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one\nIf you're havin' girl problems, I feel bad for you, son\nI got ninety-nine problems, but a bitch ain't one \u2013 hit me!\n\nYou crazy for this one, Rick\nIt's your boy"}
{"text":"(You see this motherfucking face)\nBlessings, blessings, yeah, I see..\n\nElephant tusk on the bow of a sailing lady, docked on the Ivory Coast\nMercedes in a row winding down the road\nI hope my black skin don't dirt this white tuxedo before the Basquiat show\nAnd if so, well fuck it, fuck it\nBecause this water drown my family, this water mixed my blood\nThis water tells my story, this water knows it all\nGo ahead and spill some champagne in the water\nGo ahead and watch the sun blaze on the waves of the ocean\n\nDope boy still smelling like cocaina\nWhite boat, white robe, can he be more cleaner?\nThe oil spill that BP ain't clean up\nI'm anti-Santa Maria\nOnly Christopher we acknowledge is Wallace\nI don't even like Washingtons in my pocket\nBlack card go hard when I'm shopping\nBoat docked in front of Herm\u00e8s picking cotton\nSilk and fleeces, lay on my Jesus\nOh my God, I hope y'all don't get seasick\nSee me in shit you never saw\nIf it wasn't for these pictures they wouldn't see me at all\nAww, whole world's in awe\nI crash through glass ceilings, I break through closed doors\nI'm on the ocean, I'm in heaven\nYachting, Ocean 11\nYou might also like\nElephant tusk on the bow of a sailing lady, docked on the Ivory Coast\nMercedes in a row winding down the road\nI hope my black skin don't dirt this white tuxedo before the Basquiat show\nAnd if so, well fuck it, fuck it\nBecause this water drown my family, this water mixed my blood\nThis water tells my story, this water knows it all\nGo ahead and spill some champagne in the water\nGo ahead and watch the sun blaze on the waves of the ocean\n\nMe and Ty Ty is like Pablo and Popeye\nWinding dirt roads on mopeds spilling Opus\nWelcome to the magnum opus, the Magna Carta\nThe best-selling author Decoded\nOn the holiday playin' \"Strange Fruit\"\nIf I'ma make it to a billi, I can't take the same route\nSwoosh, that's the sound of the border\nSwoosh, and that's the sound of a baller\nMuhammad Hovi my back against the rope\nThe black Maybach, I'm back inside the boat\nShepard Fairey they finally gave me some hope\nCan't believe they got a nigga to vote\nDemocrat? Nope, I sold dope\nIn trouble waters I had to learn how to float\nOn the ocean, I'm in heaven\nYachting, Ocean 11\nElephant tusk on the bow of a sailing lady, docked on the Ivory Coast\nMercedes in a row winding down the road\nI hope my black skin don't dirt this white tuxedo before the Basquiat show\nAnd if so, well fuck it, fuck it\nBecause this water drown my family, this water mixed my blood\nThis water tells my story, this water knows it all\nGo ahead and spill some champagne in the water\nGo ahead and watch the sun blaze on the waves of the ocean"}
{"text":"\nFeel it comin' in the air (Yeah)\nHear the screams from everywhere (Yeah)\nI'm addicted to the thrill (I'm ready)\nIt's a dangerous love affair (What's up? Come on)\nCan't be scared when it goes down\nGot a problem, tell me now (What's up?)\nOnly thing that's on my mind (What's up?)\nIs who's gon' run this town tonight (Ah, what's up?)\nIs who's gon' run this town tonight (Yeah, what's up? Yeah)\nWe gon' run this town\n\nWe are, yeah, I said it: we are\nThis is Roc Nation, pledge your allegiance\nGet your fatigues on, all black everything\nBlack cards, black cars, all black everything\nAnd our girls are blackbirds ridin' with they Dillingers\nI get more in depth if you boys really real enough\nThis is la Familia, I'll explain later\nBut for now, let me get back to this paper\nI'm a couple bands down and I'm tryin' to get back\nI gave Doug a grip and lost a flip for five stacks\nYeah, I'm talkin' 5 comma, 6 zeros, dot zero, here Doug\nBack to runnin' circles round niggas, now we squared up\nHold up\nYou might also like\nLife's a game, but it's not fair (Yeah)\nI break the rules, so I don't care (Uh-huh)\nSo I keep doin' my own thang\nWalkin' tall against the rain (What's up?)\nVictory's within the mile\nAlmost there, don't give up now (What's up?)\nOnly thing that's on my mind (What's up?)\nIs who's gon' run this town tonight (Uh, yeah)\nHey, hey, hey, hey (What's up?)\nWho's gon' run this town tonight?\n\nWe are, yeah, I said it: we are\nYou can call me Caesar, in a dark Caesar\nPlease follow the leader, so Eric B we are\nMicrophone fiend, this the return of the god\nPeace, God, ah ah, it ain't no nobody fresher\nI'm in Maison, ah, Martin Margiela\nOn the table, screamin', \"Fuck the other side! They're jealous!\"\nWe got a banquette full of broads, they got a table full of fellas\nYeah, and they ain't spendin' no cake\nThey should throw their hand in 'cause they ain't got no spades\nYeah, my whole team got dough\nSo my banquette is lookin' like Millionaires' Row\nLife's a game, but it's not fair\nI break the rules, so I don't care\nSo I keep doin' my own thang\nWalkin' tall against the rain\nVictory's within the mile\nAlmost there, don\u2019t give up now\nOnly thing that's on my mind\nIs who's gon' run this town tonight\nHey, hey, hey, hey\nWho's gon' run this town tonight?\n\nIt's crazy how you can go from bein' Joe Blow\nTo everybody on your dick; no homo\nI bought my whole family whips; no Volvos\nNext time I\u2019m in church: please, no photos\nPolice escorts, everybody passports\nThis the life that everybody ask for\nThis the fast life, we are on a crash course\nWhat you think I rap for, to push a fuckin' Rav 4?\nBut I know that if I stay stunting\nAll these girls only gon' want one thing\nI can spend my whole life Good Will Hunting\nOnly good gon' come is this good when I'm cumming\nShe got a ass that'll swallow up a G-string\nAnd up top, ungh, two bee stings\nAnd I'm beasting off the Riesling\nAnd my nigga just made it out the precinct\nWe give a damn about the drama that your dude bring\nI'm just tryin' to change the color on your mood ring\nReebok, baby, you need to try some new things\nHave you ever had shoes without shoe strings?\n\"What's that, Ye?\" \"Baby, these heels\"\n\"Is that a May\u2014 what?!\" \"Baby, these wheels\"\nYou trippin' when you ain't sippin', have a refill\nYou feelin' like you runnin', huh? Now you know how we feel (What\u2019s up?)\nHey, hey (Yeah, yeah)\nHey, hey (What\u2019s up?)\nHey, hey\nHey, we gon' run this town tonight\nWhat\u2019s up?"}
{"text":"Kill JAY-Z, they'll never love you\nYou'll never be enough, let's just keep it real, JAY-Z\nFuck JAY-Z, I mean, you shot your own brother\nHow can we know if we can trust JAY-Z?\nAnd you know better, nigga, I know you do\nBut you gotta do better, boy, you owe it to Blue\nYou had no father, you had the armor\nBut you got a daughter, gotta get softer\nDie JAY-Z, this ain't back in the days\nYou don't need an alibi, JAY-Z\nCry JAY-Z, we know the pain is real\nBut you can't heal what you never reveal\nWhat's up, JAY-Z? You know you owe the truth\nTo all the youth that fell in love with JAY-Z\nYou got people you love you sold drugs to\nYou got high on the life, that shit drugged you\nYou walkin' around like you invincible\nYou dropped outta school, you lost your principles\nI know people backstab you, I felt bad too\nBut this 'fuck everybody' attitude ain't natural\nBut you ain't a saint, this ain't kumbaye\nBut you got hurt because you did cool by 'Ye\nYou gave him twenty million without blinkin'\nHe gave you twenty minutes on stage, fuck was he thinkin'?\n\"Fuck wrong with everybody?\" is what you sayin'\nBut if everybody's crazy, you're the one that's insane\nCrazy how life works\nYou got a knot in your chest, imagine how a knife hurts\nYou stabbed Un over some records\nYour excuse was \"He was talkin' too reckless!\"\nLet go your ego over your right shoulder\nYour left is sayin', \"Finish your breakfast!\"\nYou egged Solange on\nKnowin' all along, all you had to say you was wrong\nYou almost went Eric Ben\u00e9t\nLet the baddest girl in the world get away\nI don't even know what else to say\nNigga, never go Eric Ben\u00e9t!\nI don't even know what you woulda done\nIn the future other niggas playin' football with your son\nYou woulda lost it\n13 bottles of Ace of Spade, what it did to Boston\nNah, JAY-Z\nBye, JAY-ZYou might also like"}
{"text":"C'mon\nWoo\nR-O-C, we runnin' this rap shit\nMemphis Bleek, we runnin' this rap shit\nB. Mac, we runnin' this rap shit\nFreeway, we run this rap shit\nO and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit\nChris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit\n\nThe takeover, the break's over, nigga\nGod MC, me, Jay-Hova\nHey, lil' soldier, you ain't ready for war\nR-O-C too strong for y'all\nIt's like bringing a knife to a gunfight, pen to a test\nYour chest in the line of fire with your thin-ass vest\nYou bringing them boys to men, how them boys gon' win?\nThis is grown man B-I, get you rolled into triage, bitch\nYour reach ain't long enough, dunny\nYour peeps ain't strong enough, fucker\nRoc-A-Fella is the army, better yet, the navy\nNiggas'll kidnap your baby, spit at your lady\nWe bring knife to fistfight, kill your drama, uh\nWe kill you motherfuckin' ants with a sledgehammer\nDon't let me do it to you, dunny, 'cause I overdo it\nSo you won't confuse it with just rap music\nYou might also like\nR-O-C, we runnin' this rap shit\nM Easy, we runnin' this rap shit\nThe Broad Street Bully, we runnin' this rap shit\nGet zipped up in plastic, when it happens, that's it\nFreeway, we runnin' this rap shit\nO and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit\nChris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit\n(Watch out, we run New York)\nI don't care if you Mobb Deep, I hold triggers to crews\nYou little fuck, I got money stacks bigger than you\nWhen I was pushing weight back in '88\nYou was a ballerina, I got the pictures, I seen ya\nThen you dropped \"Shook Ones,\" switched your demeanor\nWell, we don't believe you, you need more people\nRoc-A-Fella students of the game, we passed the class\n'Cause nobody can read you dudes like we do\nDon't let 'em gas you like Jigga is ass and won't clap you\nTrust me on this one, I'll detach you\nMind from spirit, body from soul\nThey'll have to hold a mass, put your body in a hole\nNo, you're not on my level, get your brakes tweaked\nI sold what your whole album sold in my first week\nYou guys don't want it with Hov\nAsk Nas, he don't want it with Hov, no\nR-O-C, we runnin' this rap shit\nB. Sigel, we runnin' this rap shit\nM Easy, we runnin' this rap shit\nGet zipped up in plastic, when it happens, that's it\nO and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit\nFreeway, we runnin' this rap shit\nChris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit\n(Watch out, we run New York)\nI know you miss it, Nas, the (Fame)\nBut along with celebrity comes 'bout seventy shots to your frame\nNigga, you a (Lame)\nYou's the fag model for Karl Kani, Esco ads\nWent from Nasty Nas to Esco's trash\nHad a spark when you started, but now, you're just garbage\nFell from top ten to not mentioned at all\nTo your bodyguard's \"Oochie Wally\" verse better than yours (Oochie wally wally, oochie wally wally)\nMatter of fact, you had the worst flow on the whole fuckin' song\nBut I know, the sun don't shine if son don't shine\nThat's why your (Lame), career's come to an end\nIt's only so long fake thugs can pretend\nNigga, you ain't live it, you witnessed it from your folks' pad (Yup)\nYou scribbled it in your notepad and created your life\nI showed you your first TEC on tour with Large Professor (Me, that's who)\nThen I heard your album 'bout your TEC on the dresser\nSo yeah, I sampled your voice, you was using it wrong (I'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me)\nYou made it a hot line, I made it a hot song (Woo)\nAnd you ain't get a coin, nigga, you was gettin' fucked then\nI know who I paid, God, Serchlite Publishing\nUse your (Brain)\nYou said you've been in this ten, I've been in it five, smarten up, Nas\nFour albums in ten years, nigga? I could divide\nThat's one every, let's say two, two of them shits was doo\nOne was nah, the other was Illmatic\nThat's a one hot album every ten year average\nAnd that's so (Lame)\nNigga, switch up your flow, your shit is garbage\nWhat, you tryna kick knowledge? (Fuck outta here)\nY'all niggas gon' learn to respect the king\nDon't be the next contestant on that Summer Jam screen\nBecause you-know-who (Who)\nDid you-know-what (What?), with you-know-who (Yeah)\nBut just keep that between me and you for now\nR-O-C, we runnin' this rap shit\nM Easy, we runnin' this rap shit\nThe Broad Street Bully, we runnin' this rap shit\nGet zipped up in plastic, when it happens, that's it\nFreeway, we runnin' this rap shit\nO and Sparks, we runnin' this rap shit\nChris and Neef, we runnin' this rap shit\n(Watch out, we run New York)\n\nA wise man told me don't argue with fools\n\u2018Cause people from a distance can't tell who is who\nSo stop with that childish shit, nigga, I'm grown\nPlease leave it alone, don't throw rocks at the throne\nDo not bark up that tree, that tree will fall on you\nI don't know why your advisers ain't forewarn you\nPlease, not Jay, he's not for play\nI don't slack a minute, all that thug rappin' and gimmicks\nI will end it, all that yappin' be finished\nYou are not deep, you made your bed, now sleep\nDon't make me expose you to them folks that don't know you\nNigga, I know you well, all the stolen jewels\nTwinkletoes, you're breakin' my heart\nCan't fuck with me, go play somewhere, I'm busy\nAnd all you other cats throwin' shots at Jigga\nYou only get half a bar, fuck y'all niggas"}
{"text":"\nUh, uh, uh, uh\nIt's big pimpin', baby (That's right)\nIt's big pimpin', spendin' Gs\nFeel me, uh-huh uh, uh-huh\nGe-ge-geyeah, geyeah\nGe-ge-geyeah, geyeah\n\nYou know I\nThug 'em, fuck 'em, love 'em, leave 'em\n\u2018Cause I don't fuckin' need 'em\nTake 'em out the hood, keep 'em lookin' good\nBut I don't fuckin' feed 'em\nFirst time they fuss, I'm breezin'\nTalkin' 'bout, \"What's the reasons?\"\nI'm a pimp in every sense of the word, bitch\nBetter trust and believe 'im\nIn the cut where I keep 'em\n'Til I need a nut, 'til I need to beat the guts, then it's\n\"Beep beep,\" then I'm pickin' them up\nLet 'em play with the dick in the truck\nMany chicks wanna put Jigga fists in cuffs\nDivorce him and split his bucks\nJust because you got good head, I'ma break bread\nSo you can be livin' it up? Shit, I\nParts with nothin', y'all be frontin'\nMe give my heart to a woman?\nNot for nothin', never happen\nI'll be forever mackin'\nHeart cold as assassins\nI got no passion\nI got no patience, and I hate waitin'\nHo, get your ass in, and\nLet's ride!\nCheck 'em out now\nRide\nYea, and let' ride!\nCheck 'em out now\nRide!\n\nYea, we doin'\nBig pimpin'\nWe spendin' cheese, check 'em out now\nBig pimpin'\nOn B-L-A-D\u2019s, we doin'\nBig pimpin' up in\nNYC, it's just that\nJigga Man, Pimp C\nAnd B-U-N B, yo, yo, yo\nBig pimpin'\nSpendin' cheese, we doin'\nBig pimpin'\nOn B-L-A-D\u2019s, we doin'\nBig pimpin' up in\nNYC, it's just that\nJigga Man, Pimp C\nAnd B-U-N B, check 'em out now\nYou might also like\nNigga, it's the\nBig Southern rap empresario\nComin' straight up out the black barrio\nMakes a mill' up off a sorry ho\nThen sit back and peep my sce-nahr-i-o\nOops, my bad, that's \"my scenario\"\nNo, I can't fuck a scary ho\nNow every time, every place, everywhere we go\nHoes start pointin', they say: \"There he go!\"\nNow these ma'fuckers know we carry mo'\nHeat than a little bit\nWe don't pull it out over little shit\nAnd if you catch a lick when I spit\nThen it won't be a little hit\nGo read a book, you illiterate son of a bitch!\nAnd step up your vocab!\nDon't be surprised if your ho's there out with me\nAnd you see us comin' down on yo' SLAB\nLivin' ghetto-fabulous, so mad, you just can't take it\nBut, nigga, if you hate now\nThen you wait while I get your bitch butt-naked\nJust break it; you gotta pay like you weigh\nWet with two pairs of clothes on\nNow get your ass to the back as I fly to the track\nTimbaland, let me spit my prose on\nPosted up in the pro-zone\nThat's the track that we breakin' these hoes on\nAin't the track that we flows on\nBut when shit get hot then the Glock start poppin' like ozone\nWe keep hoes crunk like Trigger-man\nFor real, it don't get no bigger, man\nDon't trip, let's sip, gettin' throwed on the flip\nGettin' blowed with the motherfuckin' Jigga Man, fool!\nWe be\nBig pimpin'\nSpendin' cheese, we be\nBig pimpin'\nOn B-L-A-D\u2019s, we be\nBig pimpin' down in\nP.A.T, it's just that\nJigga Man, Pimp C\nAnd B-U-N B, 'cause we be\nBig pimpin'\nSpendin' cheese, and we be\nBig pimpin'\nOn B-L-A-D\u2019s, 'cause we be\nBig pimpin'\nIn P.A.T, it's just that\nJigga Man, Pimp C\nAnd B-U-N B (Uh,) nigga\nSmokin' out, pourin' up\nKeepin' lean up in my cup\nAll my car got leather and wood\nIn my hood we call it \"buck\"\nEverybody wanna ball\nHolla at broads at the mall\nIf he up, watch him fall\nNigga, I can't fuck wit' y'all\nIf I wasn't rappin', baby\nI would still be ridin' Mercedes\nComin' down and sippin' daily\nNo record 'til whitey pay me\nUh, now what y'all\nKnow about them Texas boys?\nComin' down in candied toys\nSmokin' weed and talkin' noise (We be)\n\nBig pimpin'\nSpendin' cheese, we be\nBig pimpin'\nOn B-L-A-D\u2019s, we be\nBig pimpin' down in\nP.A.T, it's just that\nJigga Man, Pimp C\nAnd B-U-N B, 'cause we be\nBig pimpin'\nSpendin' cheese, and we be\nBig pimpin'\nOn B-L-A-D\u2019s, 'cause we be\nBig pimpin'\nIn P.A.T, it's just that\nJigga Man, Pimp C\nAnd B-U-N B, nigga"}
{"text":"(Ha-ya) My nigga got on\n(Ha-ya) My nigga got on all white, no socks\n(Ha-ya, ha-ya)\nMy nigga got that cocaina on today\nThat's how he feel, turn my vocal up (Ha-ya)\nThat's how you feel, Emory? (Ha-ya)\nTurn my vocal up some more\nTurn my vocal up, Guru! (Ha-ya)\nTurn the music up too (Ha-ya-ya-ya)\n\nSuper Bowl goals\nMy wife in the crib feedin' the kids liquid gold\nWe in a whole different mode\nThe kid that used to pitch bricks can't be pigeonholed\nI cooked up more chicken when the kitchen closed\nUh, we gon' reach a billi' first\nI told my wife the spiritual shit really work\nAlhamdulillah, I run through 'em all\nHovi's home, all these phonies come to a halt\nAll this old talk left me confused\nYou'd rather be old rich me or new you?\nAnd old niggas, y'all stop actin' brand new\nLike 2Pac ain't have a nose ring too, huh\nNobody wins when the family feuds\nBut my stash can't fit into Steve Harvey's suit\nI'm clear why I'm here, how about you?\nAin't no such thing as an ugly billionaire, I'm cute\n(Mmmmm) Pretty much\nIf anybody gettin' handsome checks, it should be us\nFuck rap, crack cocaine\nNah, we did that, Black-owned things\nHundred percent Black-owned champagne\nAnd we merrily merrily eatin' off these streams\nY'all still drinkin' Perrier-Jou\u00ebt, hah\nBut we ain't get through to you yet, uh\nWhat's better than one billionaire? Two (Two)\n'Specially if they're from the same hue as you\nY'all stop me when I stop tellin' the truth\nYou might also like\nHahahaha (Ha-ya)\nI would say I'm the realest nigga rappin' (Ha-ya)\nBut that ain't even a statement (Ha-ya)\nThat's like sayin' I'm the tallest midget (Ha-ya)\nWait, that ain't politically correct, forget it (Ha-ya)\nCan I get \"Amen\" from the congregation?\nAmen, amen (Ha-ya)\nCan I get a \"Amen\" from the congregation?\nAmen, amen (Ha-ya)\nHa-ya-ya-ya\n\nYeah, I'll fuck up a good thing if you let me\nLet me alone, Becky\nA man that don't take care his family can't be rich\nI'll watch Godfather, I miss that whole shit\nMy consciousness was Michael's common sense\nI missed the karma that came as a consequence\nNiggas bustin' off through the curtains 'cause she hurtin'\nKay losin' the babies 'cause their future's uncertain\nNobody wins when the family feuds\nWe all screwed 'cause we never had the tools\nI'm tryna fix you\nI'm tryna get these niggas with no stripes to be official\nY'all think small, I think Biggie\nY'all whole pass is in danger, ten Mississippi\nAl Sharpton in the mirror takin' selfies\nHow is him or Pill Cosby s'posed to help me?\nOld niggas never accepted me\nNew niggas is the reason I stopped drinkin' Dos Equis\nWe all lose when the family feuds\nWhat's better than one billionaire? Two\nHahahah\nI'll be damned if I drink some Belvedere while Puff got C\u00ceROC\nY'all need to stop\n\n(Ha-ya) Ha-ya, ha-ya, ha-ya, ha-ya\n(Ha-ya) Ha-ya, ha-ya, ha-ya\n(Ha-ya) Ha-ya, ha-ya, ha-ya\nHa-ya-ya-ya\nHa-ya, ha-ya\nLove me like, love\nYeah yeah yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah\nLike.... yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"\nUh, I just want a Picasso\nIn my casa, no, my castle\nI'm a hassa, no, I'm an asshole\nI'm never satisfied, can't knock my hustle\nI want a Rothko, no, I want a brothel\nNo, I want a wife that fuck me like a prostitute\nLet's make love on a million\nIn a dirty hotel with the fan on the ceiling, uh\nAll for the love of drug dealing, uh\nMarble floors, uh, gold ceilings, uh\nOh, what a feeling\nFuck it, I want a billion\nJeff Koons balloons, I just wanna blow up\nCondos in my condos, I wanna row of\nChristie's with my missy, live at the MoMA\nBacons and turkey bacons, smell the aroma\n\nOh, what a feeling\nPicasso, baby\nPicasso\nPicasso, baby\nOh, what a feeling\nPicasso, baby\nPicasso\nPicasso, baby\nYou might also like\nIt ain't hard to tell, I'm the new Jean Michel\nSurrounded by Warhols, my whole team ball\nTwin Bugattis outside the Art Basel\nI just wanna live life colossal\nLeonardo Da Vinci flows\nRiccardo Tisci Givenchy clothes\nSee me throning at the Met\nVogueing on these niggas, champagne on my breath, yes\nHouse like the Louvre or the Tate Modern\n'Cause I be going ape at the auction\nOh, what a feeling\nAw, fuck it, I want a trillion\nSleeping every night next to Mona Lisa\nThe modern day version with better features\nYellow Basquiat in my kitchen corner\nGo 'head, lean on that shit, Blue, you own it, uh\n\nOh, what a feeling\nPicasso, baby\nPicasso\nPicasso, baby\nOh, what a feeling\nPicasso, baby\nPicasso\nPicasso, baby\nWoman: Et l\u00e0 je t'ai tout donn\u00e9, montr\u00e9, rien \u00e0 cacher, tu es l\u00e0 Ivy, comme le nombre d'or\nJay, comment tu dis nombre d'or?\nJay-Z: The golden number\nWoman: Touch\u00e9\n\nOkay, I never stuck my cock in the fox's box, but\nDamned if I ain't open Pandora's box\nThey try to slander your man on CNN and Fox\nMy Mirandas don't stand a chance with cops\nEven my old fans like, \"Old man, just stop\"\nI could if I would, but I can't, I'm hot\nAnd you blow, I'm still the man to watch\nHublot on my left hand or not\nSoon I step out the booth, the cameras pops\nNiggas is cool with it 'til the canons pop\nNow my hand on the Bible on the stand\nGot your man in a jam again, got my hands in cuff\nI'm like goddamn, enough\nI put down the cans and they ran amok\nMy hairpin pierce skin, ruptures spleens\nCracks ribs, go through cribs, and other things\nNo sympathy for the king, huh?\nNiggas even talk about your baby crazy\nEventually the pendulum swings\nDon't forget America, this how you made me\nCome through with the 'Ye mask on\nSpray everything like SAMO, I won't scratch the Lambo\nWhat's it gon' take for me to go, for you to see?\nI'm the modern day Pablo Picasso, baby"}
{"text":"\nThis is a public service announcement\nSponsored by Just Blaze and the good folks at Roc-A-Fella Records\nFellow Americans, it is with the utmost pride and sincerity that I present this recording as a living testament and recollection of history in the making during our generation\n\nAllow me to re-introduce myself\nMy name is Hov, oh, H-to-the-O-V\nI used to move snowflakes by the O-Z\nI guess even back then you can call me\nCEO of the R-O-C, Hov\nFresh out the fryin' pan into the fire\nI be the music biz number one supplier\nFlyer than a piece of paper bearin' my name\nGot the hottest chick in the game wearin' my chain, that's right\nHov, oh, not D.O.C.\nBut similar to them letters, \"No One Can Do It Better\"\nI check cheddar like a food inspector\nMy homie Strict told me, \"Dude, finish your breakfast\"\nSo that's what I'ma do, take you back to the dude with the Lexus\nFast-forward the jewels and the necklace\nLet me tell you dudes what I do to protect this\nI shoot at you actors like movie directors\nThis ain't a movie, dog (Oh, shit)\nYou might also like\nNow before I finish, let me just say I did not come here to show out, did not come here to impress you\nBecause to tell you the truth when I leave here I'm gone\nAnd I don't care what you think about me\u2014but just remember, when it hits the fan, brother, whether it's next year, ten years, twenty years from now, you'll never be able to say that these brothers lied to you jack\n\nVing ain't lie\nI done came through the block in everything that's fly\nI'm like Che Guevara with bling on, I'm complex\nI never claimed to have wings on\nNigga, I get my \"By any means\" on whenever there's a drought\nGet your umbrellas out because that's when I brainstorm\nYou can blame Shawn, but I ain't invent the game\nI just rolled the dice, trying to get some change\nAnd I'd do it twice, ain't no sense in me\nLying as if I am a different man\nAnd I could blame my environment but\nThere ain't no reason why I be buying expensive chains\nHope you don't think users are the only abusers\nNiggas getting high within the game\nIf you do then, how would you explain?\nI'm ten years removed, still the vibe is in my veins\nI got a hustler spirit, nigga, period\nCheck out my hat yo, peep the way I wear it\nCheck out my swag' yo, I walk like a ballplayer\nNo matter where you go, you are what you are player\nAnd you can try to change but that's just the top layer\nMan, you was who you was 'fore you got here\nOnly God can judge me, so I'm gone\nEither love me, or leave me alone\nNow, back to our regularly scheduled program, L'Album Noir: The Black Album"}
{"text":"Picture all the possibilities\nPicture all the possibilities\nSounds like a love song\nSounds like a love song\nThe most incredible, baby\nUh\nMmm, mmm, mmm, mmm\nYeah, yeah\nUh\nI can't see 'em comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta make the song cry\nI can't see 'em comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta make the song cry\n\nGood dude, I know you love me like cooked food\nEven though a nigga gotta move like a crook move\nWe was together on the block since free lunch\nWe shoulda been together havin' Four Seasons brunch\nWe used to use umbrellas to face the bad weather\nSo now we travel first-class to change the forecast\nNever in bunches, just me and you\nI loved your point of view 'cause you held no punches\nStill I left you for months on end\nIt's been months since I checked back in\nWe're somewhere in a small town\nSomewhere lockin' a mall down\nWoodgrain, four and change, Armor All'd down\nI can understand why you want a divorce now\nThough I can't let you know it, pride won't let me show it\nPretend to be heroic, that's just one to grow with\nBut deep inside, a nigga so sick\nYou might also like\nI can't see 'em comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta make the song cry\nI can't see 'em comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta let the song cry, uh\nCan't see it comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta make the song cry\nI can't see it comin' down my eyes\nSo I got to make the song cry\n\nOn repeat, the CD of Big's \"Me & My Bitch\"\nWatchin' Bonnie and Clyde, pretendin' to be that shit\nEmpty gun in your hand, sayin', \"Let me see that clip\"\nShopping sprees, pull out your Visa quick\nA nigga had very bad credit, you helped me lease that whip\nYou helped me get the keys to that V dot 6\nWe was so happy poor, but when we got rich\nThat's when our signals got crossed and we got flipped\nRather mine, I don't know what made me leave that shit\nMade me speed that quick, let me see, that's it\nIt was the cheese, helped them bitches get amnesia quick\nI used to cut up they buddies, now they sayin' they love me\nUsed to tell they friends I was ugly and wouldn't touch me\nThen I showed up in that dubbed-out buggy\nAnd then they got fuzzy, and they don't remember that\nAnd I don't remember you\nI can't see it comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta make the song cry\nI can't see it comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta make the song cry\nYeah, I seen 'em comin' down your eyes\nBut I gotta make the song cry\nI can't see it comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta make the song cry\n\nA face of stone, was shocked on the other end of the phone\nWord back home is that you had a special friend\nSo what was oh so special then?\nYou have given away without gettin' at me\nThat's your fault, how many times you forgiven me?\nHow was I to know that you was plain sick of me?\nI know the way a nigga livin' was wack\nBut you don't get a nigga back like that\nShit, I'm a man with pride, you don't do shit like that\nYou don't just pick up and leave and leave me sick like that\nYou don't throw away what we had just like that\nI was just fuckin' them girls, I was gon' get right back\nThey say you can't turn a bad girl good\nBut once a good girl's gone bad, she's gone forever\nI'll mourn forever\nShit, I've got to live with the fact I did you wrong forever\nI can't see 'em comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta make the song cry\nI can't see 'em comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta let the song cry\nI know, I seen 'em comin' down your eyes\nBut I gotta make the song cry\nI can't see 'em comin' down my eyes\nSo I gotta make the song cry\n\nIt's fucked up, girl"}
{"text":"Good morn' or evening, friends\nSmile, you recordin'?\n\nSlammin' Bentley doors like we invented doors\n20 years ago we drove Bentley Azures\nWe drinkin' Cristal then\nYeah, kept the tray on me like Chris Paul then\nDrinkin' Ace of Spades like it's codeine now\nTryna put a million on the whole team now\nPush through the pain so we can see new life\nSo all the ladies havin' babies, see ya sacrifice\nMama had four kids, but she's a lesbian\nHad to pretend so long that she's a thespian\nHad to hide in the closet, so she medicate\nSociety shame and the pain was too much to take\nCried tears of joy when you fell in love\nDon't matter to me if it's a him or her\nI just wanna see you smile through all the hate\nMarie Antoinette, baby, let 'em eat cake\n\nBad times turn to good memories, smile\nEven when I'm gone and you remember me, smile\nGood times never fade away, smile\nEven if I'm not with you here today, smile\nGood morn' or evening, friends\nSmile\nHere's your friendly announcer\nSmile\nYou might also like\nFar as draft picks, my name did not get called\nBet before I go I put a billion on the board\nHall of Fame Hov, I did it all without a pen\nY'all knew that was comin', I had to remind y'all again, huh?\nFlyin' paper planes through the projects\nNow the whole projects on my jet\nNow you see the real in the front row\nIn every one of y'all televised shows\nSuper facts\nNiggas switched sides, traded pride, we don't do all that\nA loss ain't a loss, it's a lesson\nAppreciate the pain, it\u2019s a blessin'\n\nBad times turn to good memories, smile\nEven when I'm gone and you remember me, smile\nGood times never fade away, smile\nEven if I'm not with you here today, smile\nGood morn' or evening, friends\nI mastered my aesthetics\nI know you often heard me wax poetic\n'Bout bein' back in the Lexus\nBut trust me, that was nothin', a nigga up in\nThe hundreds of millions, I have no ceilings\nAh, this that feelin', I'm that boy\nAnita Baker's \"You Bring Me Joy\" slappin' out of the toy\nThe separation is clear in my rear-view mirror\nObjects is further than they appear\nOh yeah, I was born with a pair, playin' for high stakes\nNorman's Cay, he looked up and out of the Lear\nHow niggas can't relate?\nFuck a slice of the apple pie, want my own cake\nIn charge of my own fate, respect Jimmy Iovine\nBut he gotta respect the Elohim as a whole new regime\nAnd niggas playin' for power, huh\nSo our music is ours, niggas own their own houses\nOurs was, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nNow it's, \"Fuck payin' me, I pay you\nPut the rest away for Blue\"\nThat blood money I giggle at it\nCan't even support my miss' habit\nJewelry shoppin' in Pa- all ya jewelers should be embarrassed\nHuh, blood diamonds drippin' with guilt, I still ain't trippin'\nThat's life, winners and losers\nDrug dealers and abusers, America like me ruthless\nMy therapist said I relapsed\nI said, \"Pre-haps I Freudian slipped in European whips\"\nGod sent me to break the chain, I'm the true and livin'\nGod in the flesh, the rest of these niggas is vain\nA stain on the white suit, inferior IQ\nNiggas'll rip your shit off TIDAL just to spite you\nAhhhh, what did I do? 'Cept try to free you\nNiggas'll love you but hate you 'cause they can't be you\nDump 'em all in the bayou, uh\nEverybody wave bye to the guy you thought you could lie to\nThis was meant to be a haiku, huh\nBut my story's too wide to fit inside the line or two\nOh, these that drugs, heron flow, I spaz on the stove\nThis is Hov, no flex zone, nigga, who lied to you?\nLook, you a pedestrian, don't ever question the security I provided you\nOh y'all thought I was washed? I'm at the cleaners\nLaunderin' dirty money like the Teamsters, huh\nShout out to Hoffa back home, he in the church\nWhen I heard you got booked, that shit hurt\nFeel for you bro, we know the system don't work\nTake a young nigga freedom over some dirt\nYet it's legal in Colorado, yet, we deny\nBlack entrepreneurs, free enterprise\nThat's why it's a black market, that's why it's called the trap\nThat's why it's called the projects 'cause it's exactly that\nAll these people was gon' kill me, heh\n'Cause the more I reveal me, the more they 'fraid of the real me\nWelcome back Carter, smile\nLiving in the shadow\nCan you imagine what kind of life it is to live?\nIn the shadows people see you as happy and free\nBecause that's what you want them to see\nLiving two lives, happy, but not free\nYou live in the shadows for fear of someone hurting your family or the person you love\nThe world is changing and they say it's time to be free\nBut you live with the fear of just being me\nLiving in the shadow feels like the safe place to be\nNo harm for them, no harm for me\nBut life is short, and it's time to be free\nLove who you love, because life isn't guaranteed\nSmile"}
{"text":"Ladies and gentlemen\nGoddammit\nLet this shit knock\n\nI done turned Havana to Atlanta\nGuayabera shirts and bandanas\nEvery time you think they got me I switch the planner\nBulletproof this, radio scanners\n(You got scanners, we got scanners)\nBalling 'til they ban us\nYou getting too much bread, they try to jam you\nBoy from the hood but got White House clearance\nSorry y'all, I don't agree with y'all parents\nPoliticians never did shit for me\nExcept lie to me, distort history\nWanna give me jail time and a fine\nFine, let me commit a real crime\nI might buy a kilo for Chief Keef\nOut of spite, I just might flood these streets\nHear the freedom in my speech\nGot an onion from Universal, read it and weep\nWould've brought the Nets to Brooklyn for free\nExcept I made millions off it, you fuckin' dweeb\nI still own the building, I'm still keeping my seat\nY'all buy that bullshit, you'd better keep y'all receipt\nObama said \"Chill, you gonna get me impeached\"\nBut you don't need this shit anyway, chill with me on the beach\nYou might also like\nY'all gon' learn today\n\nUh, y'all must want to start a revolution\nYou know whenever I'm threatened, I start shooting (Bang!)\nCatch a body, head to Houston\nI'm in Cuba, I love Cubans\nThis communist talk is so confusing\nWhen it's from China, the very mic that I'm using\nIdiot wind, the Bob Dylan of rap music\nYou're an idiot, baby, you should become a student\nOh, you gonna learn today\nWhere the fuck have you been\nThe world's under new management\nThe new role model, fuck this Zoolander shit\nY'all gon' learn today"}
{"text":"85 Contributors\u201903 Bonnie & Clyde Lyrics\nUhh, uhh, uhh\nYou ready, B?\nLet's go get 'em\n\nLook for me!\nYoung, B, cruisin' down the Westside Highway\nDoin' what we like to do, our way\nEyes behind shades\nThis necklace the reason all of my dates been blind dates\nBut today I got my thoroughest girl with me\nI'm mashin' the gas, she's grabbin' the wheel, it's trippy\nHow hard she rides with me, the new Bobby and Whitney\nOnly time we don't speak is during Sex and the City\nShe gets Carrie fever, but soon as the show's over\nShe's right back to being my soldier\n\u2018Cause mami's a rider and I'm a roller\nPut us together, how they gon' stop both us?\nWhatever she lacks I'm right over her shoulder\nWhen I'm off track, mami is keepin' me focused\nSo let's lock this down like it's supposed to be\nThe '03 Bonnie and Clyde: Hov' and B holla\n\nAll I need in this life of sin is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)\nDown to ride 'til the very end, is me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend)\nAll I need in this life of sin is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)\nDown to ride 'til the very end, is me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend)\nYou might also like\nThe problem is, you dudes treat the one that you lovin'\nWith the same respect that you treat the one that you humpin'\nThat ain't 'bout nothin'\nIf ever you mad about somethin'\nIt won't be that, oh, no, it won't be that\nI don't be at places where we comfy at\nWith no be-atch, oh, no, you won't see that\nAnd no, I ain't perfect\nNobody walkin' this earth's surface is\nBut girlfriend, work with the kid\nI keep you workin' that Herm\u00e8s Birkin bag\nManolo Blahnik Timbs, Aviator lens\nSix hundred drops, hercedes Benz\nThe only time you wear Burberry to swim\nAnd I don't have to worry, only worry is him\nShe do anything necessary for him\nAnd I do anything necessary for her\nSo don't let the necessary occur, yep\n\nAll I need in this life of sin is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)\nDown to ride 'til the very end, is me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend)\nAll I need in this life of sin is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)\nDown to ride 'til the very end, is me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend)\n(Talk to 'em, B!) If I was your girlfriend\nI'll be there for you, if somebody hurts you\nEven if that somebody was me (That\u2019s right!)\nYeah-hee (Break it down for 'em, B!)\nSometimes I trip on how happy we could be\nAnd so I put this on my life\nNobody or nothing will ever come between us\nAnd I promise I'll give my life\nMy love and my trust if you was my boyfriend (One more time!)\nPut this on my life\nThe air that I breathe in, all that I believe in\nI promise I'll give my life\nMy love and my trust if you was my boyfriend\n\nAll I need in this life of sin is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)\nDown to ride 'til the very end, is me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend)\nAll I need in this life of sin is me and my girlfriend (me and my girlfriend)\nDown to ride 'til the very end, is me and my boyfriend (me and my boyfriend)"}
{"text":"Ladies and gentlemen, let's put our hands together for this dynasty\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nWelcome, ladies and gentlemen\nTo the eighth wonder of the world\nThe flow of the century\nAlways timeless\nHov\nThanks for coming out tonight\nYou could've been anywhere in the world\nBut you're here with me\nI appreciate that\nUh\n\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nFor shizzle, my nizzle, used to dribble down in VA\nWas herbing 'em in the home of the Terrapins\nGot it dirt cheap for them\nPlus if they was short with cheese, I would work with them\nBrought in weed, got rid of that dirt for them\nWasn't born hustlers, I was birthing 'em\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nFor sheezy, my neezy, keep my arms so breezy\nCan't leave rap alone, the game needs me\nHaters want me clapped in chrome, it ain't easy\nCops want to knock me, D.A. wants to box me in\nBut somehow, I beat them charges like Rocky\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nNot guilty, he who does not feel me\nIs not real to me, therefore he doesn't exist\nSo poof, vamoose, son of a bitch\nYou might also like\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nFor shizzle, my nizzle, used to dribble down in VA\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nThat's the anthem, getcha damn hands up\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nNot guilty, y'all got to feel me\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nThat's the anthem, getcha damn hands up (Holla at me)\n\nI do this for my culture, to let 'em know\nWhat a nigga look like when a nigga in a roadster\nShow 'em how to move in a room full of vultures\nIndustry shady, it need to be taken over\nLabel owners hate me, I'm raisin' the status quo up\nI'm overcharging niggas for what they did to the Cold Crush\nPay us like you owe us for all the years that you hoed us\nWe can talk, but money talks, so talk more bucks\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nFor shizzle, my nizzle, used to dribble down in VA\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nThat's the anthem, getcha damn hands up\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nNot guilty, y'all got to feel me\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nThat's the anthem, getcha damn hands up\nYeah, Hov is back, life stories told through rap\nNiggas acting like I sold you crack (Yeah)\nLike I told you sell drugs, no, Hov did that\nSo hopefully you won't have to go through that\nI was raised in the projects, roaches and rats\nSmokers out back sellin' they mama's sofa\nLookouts on the corner focused on the ave\nLadies in the window focused on the kinfolk\nMe under a lamppost, why I got my hand closed?\nCrack's in my palm, watching the long arm of the law\nSo you know I seen it all before\nI've seen hoop dreams deflate like a true fiend's weight\nTo try and to fail, the two things I hate\nSucceed and this rap game, the two things that's great\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nWhat else can I say about dude? I gets busy\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nFor shizzle, my nizzle, used to dribble down in VA\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nThat's the anthem, getcha damn hands up\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nNot guilty, y'all got to feel me\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nThat's the anthem, getcha damn hands up\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A\nH to the izz-O, V to the izz-A"}
{"text":"Now greetings to the world\nGangsta nuh live in a tenement yard\nRude boy nuh live in a tenement yard\nToo much watchy, watchy, watchy\nToo much su, su, su, su, su\nThem chatty, chatty, chatty\nThem su, su, su, su, su\nFuck all this pretty Shawn Carter shit nigga, HOV\n\nShawn was on that gospel shit\nI was on the total fuckin' opposite\nShit, stuff a million dollars in the sock drawer\nThat's a war chest in case you need your chest knocked off\nY'all be talkin' crazy under them IG pictures\nSo when you get to hell you tell 'em Blanco sent ya\nI can't take no threats, I got a set of twins (Ah)\nThose were just some words you'll never hear again (Uh huh)\nFor the final time you don't believe these fools\nI've never seen a worker rock so many jewels (Never)\nI've never seen the runner with so many cars (Never)\nY'all couldn't stop me, you're not as tough as you say you are\nMy advice is just don't be too nice to niggas\nJust set your price on niggas and live your life, my nigga\nOnce upon a time in the projects\nShawn was in flight mode, I bought a Pyrex\nI was in fight mode and now it's \"Fuck me, mijo\"\nI was movin' them kilos, help you move your peoples\nSometimes you need your ego, gotta remind these fools\nWho they effin' with, and we got FN's too\nBefore we had A&R's, we had AR's too\nWe the only ones really movin' like y'all say y'all do\nWe still movin' like y'all niggas say y'all did\nEmory passed you niggas and he did a bid\nTy Ty jumped over niggas and he's like 5'6\"\nGot the heart of a giant, don't you ever forget\nDon't you never forget, Jigga got this shit poppin'\nI pulled out the pot when we was outta options\nYou might also like\nGangsta nuh live in a tenement yard\nRude boy nuh live in a tenement yard\nToo much watchy, watchy, watchy\nThem su, su, su, su, su\nToo much chatty, chatty, chatty\nAnd them su, su, su, su, su\nFuck all this pretty Shawn Carter shit nigga, HOV\nPut that drum in your ear, don't get Srem'd\nI'll Bobby Shmurda anybody you heard of\nNiggas could not be further, I fathered your style\nBirth of a Nation, Nat Turner style\nUh, y'all make me turn up all this talkin' down\nUh, niggas is skippin' leg-day just to run they mouth\nI be skippin' leg day, I still run the world\nI pressed ahead of your team with one finger curled\nI'll line you all up with one finger wave\nMake niggas weave, niggas is out here fake\nLaced front to the back, don't front\nY'all gonna make me wig, I'ma give y'all what you want, uh\n\nGangsta nuh live in a tenement yard\nDreadlocks nuh live in a tenement yard\nToo much watchy, watchy, watchy\nAnd them su, su, su, su, su\nToo much chatty, chatty, chatty\nAnd them su, su, su, su, su\nFuck all this pretty Shawn Carter shit nigga, HOV\nCan't you see it's my ambition\nI come to nice up the whole nation\nWhat a bam bam yeah, Lord\nAnd mi seh what a bam bam (Do it, Jay!)\nCan't you see it's my ambition\nI come to nice up the whole nation\nWhat a bam bam, what a bam bam\nI don't give a God damn, I don't give a God damn\nWhen mi come a dance and mi spliff and Guinness\nYow, crowd of people\u2013go and mind yuh business\nThis a hunting season, mek I tell you hunting season\nWell, I tell ya something season, yow this a hunting season\nCake and dumpling season, spinners and dumpling season\nDon't play by the king, love is all I and I bring you know\nVoice of the one pon gully banking\nTop ranking, keep it skanking\nOoh wee, huh, hear me now"}
{"text":"\nHave you ever been to heaven?\nHave you ever seen the gates?\nHave you bowed unto your highness?\nAnd do you know how heaven taste? Knock me down\n\nArm, leg, leg, arm, head \u2013 this is God body\nKnowledge, wisdom, freedom, understanding, we just want our equality\nFood, clothing, shelter, help a nigga find some peace\nHappiness for a gangsta, ain't no love in these streets\nConspiracy theorist screaming Illuminati\nThey can't believe this much skill is in the human body\nHe's 6'2\", how the fuck he fit in a new Bugatti?\nAw, fuck it, you got me\nQuestion religion, question it all\nQuestion existence until them questions are solved\nMeanwhile this heretic, I be out in Marrakesh\nMorocco smoking hashish with my fellowship\nY'all dwell on devil shit, I'm in a Diablo\nYellow shit, color of Jell-O shit\nHello bitch, it's me again\nFresh in my Easter clothes feeling like Jesus and\nYou might also like\nHave you ever been to heaven?\nHave you ever seen the gates?\nHave you bowed unto your highness?\nAnd do you know how heaven taste? Knock me down\n\nThat's me in the corner, that's me in the spotlight\nLosing my religion, losing my religion\n\nGetting ghost in the Ghost, can you see me? Can you see me?\nHave mercy on a Judas, angel wings on a 'ghini\nI'm secular, tell the hecklers seckle down\nY'all religion creates division like my Maybach partition\nAnd God is my chauffeur, boy they love Hova\nFrom the south side of Chi to Brooklyn where I growed up\nI confess, God in the flesh\nLive among the serpents, turn arenas into churches\nI'm like Michael, recycle, these are not 16's\nThese are verses from the Bible\nTell that preacher he's a preacher, I'm a motherfuckin' prophet\nSmoke a tree of knowledge, drink from a gold chalice\nYou gotta love it, I arrive at the pearly gates\nI had luggage, meaning I had baggage\nNiggas asking me questions, I don't answer to these busters\nOnly God could judge us, motherfuckers, uh\nHave you ever been to heaven?\nHave you ever seen the gates?\nHave you bowed unto your highness?\nAnd do you know how heaven taste? Knock me down\n\nHeaven or Hell, the cards we been dealt\nAre the cards that we play, play, play\nDie for what you believe, only one god recedes\nWhen the shots spray, spray, spray"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsYoung Forever Lyrics\nLet's dance in style, let's dance for a while\nHeaven can wait, we're only watching the skies\nHoping for the best but expecting the worst\nAre you gonna drop the bomb or not?\nLet us die young or let us live forever\nWe don't have the power but we never say never\nSitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip\nThe music's for the sad men\n\nForever young, I wanna be forever young\nDo you really want to live forever, forever, and ever? (Uh)\nForever young (Young), I wanna be forever young (Forever young)\n(Ayy, may the best of your todays be the worst of your tomorrows)\nDo you really want to live forever, forever? Forever young\n(But we ain't even thinkin' that far, ya know what I mean?)\n\nSo we living life like a video (Video)\nWhere the sun is always out and you never get old\nAnd the champagne's always cold and the music's always good\nAnd the pretty girls just happen to stop by in the hood\nAnd they hop they pretty ass up on the hood of that pretty ass car\nWithout a wrinkle in today 'cause there's no tomorrow\nJust a picture-perfect day that last a whole lifetime\nAnd it never ends 'cause all we have to do is hit rewind\nSo let's just stay in the moment, smoke some weed, drink some wine\nReminisce, talk some shit, forever young is in your mind\nLeave a mark they can't erase, neither space nor time\nSo when the director yells cut, I'll be fine\nI'm forever young\nYou might also like\nForever young, I wanna be forever young\nDo you really want to live forever, forever, and ever?\nForever young, I wanna be forever young (Forever young)\nDo you really want to live forever, forever? Forever young\n\nFear not when, fear not why, fear not much while we're alive\nLife is for living, not living uptight, 'til you're somewhere up in the sky\nFear not die, I'll be alive for a million years, bye bye's\nAre not for legends, I'm forever young, my name shall survive\nThrough the darkest blocks, over kitchen stoves, over Pyrex pots\nMy name shall be passed down to generations\nWhile debating up in barbershops\nYoung slung, hung here, showed that a nigga from here\nWith a little ambition, just what we can become here (Yeah)\nAnd as the father pass the story down to his son's ears\nYoung'll get younger every year, yeah\nSo if you love me, baby, this is how you let me know\nDon't ever let me go, that's how you let me know, baby\n\nForever young, I wanna be forever young\nDo you really want to live forever, forever, and ever?\nForever young, I wanna be forever young (Forever young)\nDo you really want to live forever, forever? Forever young\n(Just let it run)\nSlamming Bentley doors, hopping outta Porsches\nPopping up on Forbes' list, gorgeous (Hold up)\nNiggas thought I lost it, they be talking bullshit\nI be talking more shit, they nauseous (Hold up)\nI'll be here forever, you know I'm on my fall shit\nAnd I ain't with foreclosure, I will never forfeit\nLess than four bars, Guru bring the chorus in\nDid you get the picture yet?\nI'm painting you a portrait of Young\n\nForever young, I wanna be forever young (Forever young)\nDo you really want to live forever, forever? Forever young"}
{"text":"\u5104\u4e07\u9577\u8005\u5c11\u5e74\u5036\u697d\u90e8\nMy moth\nUh! Let's work!\nAfucker is a billionaire mothafucker (Let's work! Talk to me, youlet's work!)\nWhere  heard ta at?!\nThat shit\nI said my mothafucka is a billionaire mothafucker (Let's work! Where you at?! Let's work!)\nWhere you from?! Let's work!\n\nLet's work\nD-boy drug dealer look\nBillionaire (Oh!)\nD-boy drug dealer look\nBillionaire nigga!\nFrom the coca leafs to the farmers\nTo the polo fleece to the bombers\nR.I.P. to Gianni\nNow we on our way\nD-boy drug dealer look\nBillionaire\n\nBally shoes, Gucci sneakers\nPharrell's a pharaoh, peep the features\nUnlaced Adidas\nTop of the world like pyramids in Giza\nFila sweats, 88 I rocked a mock neck\nCarried a nine in my projects\nBucket hat EPMD cassettes\nNow I'm smoking loud in Ibiza\nMix the D'USSE with the reefer\nMy whole life is leisure\nGangsta lean like the Pisa\nEiffel Tower, Herm\u00e9s towel\nThe Feds is perched like an owl\nReal niggas all feel the hook\nYou might also like\nLet's work\nD-boy drug dealer look\nBillionaire\nD-boy drug dealer look\nBillionaire nigga!\nFrom the coca leafs to the farmers\nTo the polo fleece to the bombers\nR.I.P. to Gianni\nNow we on our way\nD-boy drug dealer look\nBillionaire\n\nWhat you know about going out, head west\nMaybach, 3 TV's all up in the headrest\nMace niggas at Madison Square Garden\n20 million sold and we still catching charges\nRope chains, Rakim and Eric B\nBought my sidekicks Suzuki Jeeps and Cherokees\nHoop earrings, coupes with the rear cameras\nPut that bitch in a cherry M3\nI'm not your average dope dealer\nSilver Toyota 4Runner's a four-wheeler\nMe and Teflon Q45 infinite\nWindows tinted, white girl all in it\nBritney, bitch\nMCM seats buck 50 stitch\nVersace plates got the Basquiat\nCollab from Versace's place\nCuban link 5 kilo\nYour life is illegal when your chain can get the rico\nReal niggas all feel the hook\nLet's work\nD-boy drug dealer look\nBillionaire\nD-boy drug dealer look\nBillionaire nigga!\nFrom the coca leafs to the farmers\nTo the polo fleece to the bombers\nR.I.P. to Gianni\nNow we on our way\nD-boy drug dealer look\nBillionaire\n\n\uc790\uae30 \uc2e0\ubc1c \ub05d\ub0b4\uc8fc\ub294\ub370\n\uc790\uae30 \ub3c8 \uc880 \ub9ce\ub098\ubd10\n\uc790\uae30 \uc2a4\ud0c0\uc77c \uc9c4\uc9dc \uba4b\uc788\ub2e4\n\ubc31\ub9cc\uc7a5\uc790 \uc18c\ub144\ub4e4\uc758 \ubaa8\uc784"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisBeach Is Better (Interlude) Lyrics\nHit ya ass on the celly, 'cause I ain't got time\nTo be arguing with your ass, if you ain't really ready\nGirl, why you never ready? For as long as you took\nYou better look like Halle Berry... Or Beyonc\u00e9\nShit, then we getting married\nI brought sand to the beach 'cause my beach is better\nYou can keep ya beach 'cause that beach whatever\nStarted out at The Darby, ended up at 1 Oak\nLeft the house with 100 grand, ended up near broke\nDon't get mad at me, I'm buying bucket after bucket\nWhen it's gone I'm like \"Fuck it\"\nI replace it with another one\nCan't take this money with you\nBurn this shit up like I'm Richard\nNiggas asking \"Is the oven on?\"You might also like"}
{"text":"See what you made me do?\n\nShout out to old Jews and old rules\nNew blacks with new stacks\nI already been the king\nRetro act, I'm just bringing it back like Jordan Packs\nNew money, they looking down on me\nBlue bloods they trying to clown on me\nYou can turn up your nose high society\nNever gone turn down the homie\nKnock knock I'm at your neighbor house\nStraight cash I bought ya neighbor out\nYou should come to the housewarming\nCome and see what your new neighbor 'bout (SKIRRRRR!)\nYellow Lambo in the driveway\nA buck thirty-five, I'm on the highway\nFrank Sinatra on my Sonos\nLoud as fuck, I did it my way\nA million sold before the album dropped\nWhite Lexus before I had a deal\nAsk Bun B about me\nThis ain't no snap back, a nigga been trill\nBy the way, fuck your mag\nYou ain't gotta count it my nigga I can add\n1 million, 2 million, 3 million, 20 million\nOh, I'm so good at math\nMight crash ya Internet\nAnd I ain't even into that\nWhen I was talking Instagram\nLast thing you wanted was your picture snapped\nFeds still lurking\nThey see I'm still putting work in\nCause somewhere in America\nMiley Cyrus is still twerkin'\nYou might also like\nTwerk, twerk (Miley, Miley)\nOnly in America"}
{"text":"They can't keep a good man down\nAlways keep a smile when they want me to frowns\nKeep the vibes and they stood my grounds\nThey will never ever take my crown\nWho Jah bless I say no man curse\nThings gettin' better when they thought it would be worse\nHere comes the officers askin' for a search\nThey found no weapon just only a draw of herbs\n\nYou in the presence of a king\nScratch that, you in the presence of a God\nPut in the belly of the beast\nI escaped, a nigga never had a job\nScott Boras, you over baby\nRobinson Cano, you coming with me\nThese niggas like rotary phones\nIt's a new day, hit up KD\nNiggas always try to knock a nigga down\nKnock me to my knees about a million times\nUncle said I'll never sell a million records\nI sold a million records like a million times\nThese niggas shouldn't let me in\nI ball so hard on ESPN\nSee my name come across on CNN\n'bout 6 minutes, you gonna see it again\n'bout 6 minutes, you gonna see me again\nYou might also like\nShit on me, these niggas tried to shit on me\nI was left for dead, they tried to wipe me out of your history\nShit on me, these niggas tried to shit on me\nI was left for dead, they tried to wipe me out of they history\n\nIf Fear is your only God\nGet y'all to fear me is my only job\nCrown, crown\nCrown, crown\n\nBulletproof glass, glass roof like the Pope\nBulletproof love, niggas down since the yolk\nBitch asked if I was God, fuck I'm supposed to say? No?\nYou already seen me turn a man to a G.O.A.T\nYou already know what I could do with the coke\nDropped it in the water, made it disappear\nI made it reappear, I had that bitch on a rope\nI make my roof get ghost, bottom grill, I make my tooth get gold\nAll the shit I did, I wasn't supposed to live, Hallelujah Hov\nWasn't for the 'caine wouldn't be able\nWasn't for the bread, probably be dead\nBest friends become ya enemies, niggas' knives are double-edged\nShit on me, these niggas tried to shit on me\nI was left for dead, they tried to wipe me out of your history\nShit on me, these niggas tried to shit on me\nI was left for dead, they tried to wipe me out of they history"}
{"text":"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"Illuminati want my mind, soul and my body\"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"Secret society, tryna keep they eye on me\"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"Illuminati want my mind, soul and my body\"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"I can't die, I can't die, I can't die\"\n\nThis shit is wicked on these mean streets\nNone of my friends speak, we're all tryna win\nBut then again, maybe it's for the best though\n'Cause when they're seein' too much\nYou know they're tryna get you touched\nWhoever said illegal was the easy way out\nCouldn't understand the mechanics\nAnd the workings of the underworld, granted\nNine-to-five is how you survive, I ain't tryna survive\nI'm tryna live it to the limit and love it a lot\nLife ills poisoned my body, I used to say fuck mic skills\nI never prayed to God, I prayed to Gotti\nThat's right, it's wicked \u2013 that's life, I live it\nAin't askin' for forgiveness for my sins, ends\nI break bread with the late heads\nPickin' their brains for angles on all the evils that the game'll do\nIt gets dangerous, money and power is changin' us\nAnd now we're lethal, infected with D'evils\nYou might also like\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"Illuminati want my mind, soul and my body\"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"Secret society, tryna keep they eye on me\"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"Illuminati want my mind, soul and my body\"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"I can't die, I can't die, I can't die\"\n\nWe used to fight for building blocks\nNow we fight for blocks with buildings that make a killin'\nThe closest of friends when we first started\nBut grew apart as the money grew and soon grew black-hearted\nThinkin' back when we first learned to use rubbers\nHe never learned, so in turn I'm kidnappin' his baby's mother\nMy hand around her collar, feedin' her cheese\nShe said the taste of dollars was shitty, so I fed her fifties\nAbout his whereabouts I wasn't convinced\nI kept feedin' her money 'til her shit started to make sense\nWho could ever foresee?\nWe used to stay up all night at slumber parties\nNow I'm tryna rock his bitch to sleep\nAll the years we were real close\nNow I see his fears through her tears\nKnow she's wishin' we were still close\nDon't cry, it is to be\nIn time I'll take away your miseries and make it mine\nD'evils\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"Illuminati want my mind, soul and my body\"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"Secret society, tryna keep they eye on me\"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"Illuminati want my mind, soul and my body\"\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"I can't die, I can't die, I can't die\"\n\nMy flesh no nigga could test, my soul is possessed\nBy D'evils in the form of diamonds and Lexuses\nThe Exorcist got me doin' sticks\nLike, \"Homie, you don't know me\nBut the whole world owe me, strip!\"\nWas thought to be a pleasant guy all my fuckin' life\nSo now I'm down for whatever, ain't nothin' nice\nThroughout my junior high years it was all friendly\nBut now this higher learning got the Remy in me\nLiquor's invaded my kidneys\nGot me ready to lick off \u2013 Momma, forgive me\nI can't be held accountable, D'evils beatin' me down, boo\nGot me runnin' with guys, makin' G's, tellin' lies that sound true\nCome test me, I never cower\nFor the love of money, son, I'm givin' lead showers\nStop screamin', you know the demon said it's best to die\nAnd even if Jehovah witness, bet he'll never testify\nD'evils\n\"Dear God, I wonder, can you save me?\"\n\"I can't die, I can't die, I can't die\""}
{"text":"\nTake the bass line out\nUh-huh, Jigga\nUh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah\nLet it bump though\n\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nInstead of treated, we get tricked\nInstead of kisses, we get kicked\nIt's the hard knock life!\n\nFrom standin' on the corners, boppin'\nTo drivin' some of the hottest cars New York has ever seen\nFrom droppin' some of the hottest verses rap has ever heard\nFrom the dope spot, with the smoke Glock\nFleein' the murder scene, you know me well\nFrom nightmares of a lonely cell, my only hell\nBut since when y'all niggas know me to fail? Fuck naw\nWhere all my niggas with the rubber grips, bust shots\nAnd if you with me, mama, rub on your tits, and what-not\nI'm from the school of the hard knocks, you must not\nLet outsiders violate our blocks and my plot\nLet's stick up the world and split it 50\/50, uh-huh\nLet's take the dough and stay real jiggy, uh-huh\nAnd sip the Cris' and get pissy-pissy\nFlow infinitely like the memory of my nigga Biggie, baby!\nYou know it's hell when I come through\nThe life and times of Shawn Carter, nigga, Volume 2\nY'all niggas get ready!\nYou might also like\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nInstead of treated, we get tricked\nInstead of kisses, we get kicked\nIt's the hard knock life!\n\nI flow for those 'dro'ed out\nAll my niggas locked down in the 10 by four, controllin' the house\nWe live in hard knocks\nWe don't take over, we borrow blocks\nBurn 'em down and you can have it back\nDaddy, I'd rather that\nI flow for chicks wishin', they ain't have to strip to pay tuition\nI see your vision, mama\nI put my money on the longshots\nAll my ballers that's born to clock\nKnow I'ma be on top whether I perform or not\nI went from lukewarm to hot\nSleepin' on futons and cots to King Size\nGreen machines, to green 5's\nI've seen pies, let the thing between my eyes analyze life's ills\nThen I put it down type Braille\nI'm tight grill with the phony\nRappers, y'all might feel we homies\nI'm like, \"Still, y'all don't know me.\"\nShit, I'm tight grill when my situation ain't improvin'\nI'm tryna murder everything movin' \u2013 feel me?\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nInstead of treated, we get tricked\nInstead of kisses, we get kicked\nIt's the hard knock life!\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nInstead of treated, we get tricked\nInstead of kisses, we get kicked\nIt's the hard knock life!\n\nI don't know how to sleep, I gotta eat, stay on my toes\nGot a lotta beef, so logically, I prey on my foes\nHustlin' is still inside of me, and as far as progress\nYou'd be hard-pressed to find another rapper hot as me\nI gave you prophecy on my first joint, and y'all lamed out\nDidn't really appreciate it 'til the second one came out\nSo I stretched the game out, etched your name out\nPut Jigga on top and dropped albums non-stop for ya, nigga!\n\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nIt's the hard knock life for us\nInstead of treated, we get tricked\nInstead of kisses, we get kicked\nIt's the hard knock life!"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisLa Familia Lyrics\n\"You're busy?\"\n\"I wanna love you back, I, I wanna love you back, I, I wanna love you back, I love you back, the group of my fam.\"\nFamily first\nHonor, integrity\nR.O.C\n\nHead of the family\nEl Padrino\nWelcome home to Emory\nLet's get back to this dinero\n\nNiggas wanna kidnap wifey\nGood luck with that bruh\nYou must gonna hide your whole family\nWhat you think we wearing black for\nReady for that war, ready for that war, ready\nYou ain't ready yo, you radio, you ain't really ready\nReal shit chyea, Alpo bought his bricks here\nElvis got his records took, it's like we got our seventh gear\nNFL investigations, oh, don't make me laugh\nFBI investigation, we stood up to that\nFacts only, everything real in my raps only\nEvery nigga real in my clique really\nEveryone's a movie star you got to film me\nLa familia\nYou might also like\nHead of the family\nEl Padrino\nWelcome home to Emory\nLet's get back to this dinero\n\nReady for that war\nReady for that war, ready\nYou ain't ready yo, you radio\nYou ain't really ready\nHead of the Family\nEl Padrino\n\nMy brothers is my brother like my brother is\nMy niggas is my brother like my mother kids\nNot just in good times, that's that sucka shit\nBut in war times, it's just what it is\nHead of the family, all my niggas bosses though\nY'all don't understand we? We talk that shit bosses know\nTriple fuckin' OG, what's up to my nigga Juan\nTell these niggas pull their fuckin' skirt down, I could see their ovaries\nNiggas snitching switching teams, out here telling bitches things\nIndustry talk behind your back, ain't nobody got time for that\nFacts only, everything real in my raps only\nEvery nigga real in my clique really\nEven the girls keep it two hundred and trilly\nIt's la familia\nHead of the family\nEl Padrino\nWelcome home to Emory\nLet's get back to this dinero\n\nReady for that war\nReady for that war, ready\nYou ain't ready yo, you radio\nYou ain't really ready\nHead of the Family\nEl Padrino"}
{"text":"Live from Bedford-Stuyvesant\nThe livest one representin' BK to the fullest\nBastards duckin' when Hov be buckin'\nChicken-heads be cluckin'\n\nUhh, back when ratchet was a ratchet and a vixen was a vixen\nAnd Jam Master Jay was alive I-I, I was mixin'\nCookin' coke in the kitchen\nBack when Rodman was a Piston\nMike was losin' to Isiah, but he soon would get his sixth one\nGave birth to my verbal imagination\nAssume a virtue if you have not\nOr better yet here's a verse from Hamlet\n\"Lord, we know who we are\nYet we know not what we may be\"\nSo maybe I'm the one or maybe I'm crazy\nI'm from Marcy Houses, where the boys die by the thousand\nBack when Pam was on Martin\nYeah, that's where it all started\nWhen Denzel was blottin' carpet, I'll pack a\u2026 nine millimeter\nWhen Slick Rick made \"Mona Lisa\"\nWhen Lisa Bonet was Beyonc\u00e9 of her day, I had divas, y'all\nThink I just popped up in this bitch like a fetus? Nah\nPregnant pause, give you some second thoughts\nThere's room on the bandwagon, don't abort\nMarcy me\nYou might also like\nMarcy me\nStreets is my artery, the vein of my existence\nI'm the Gotham City heartbeat\nI, started in lobbies, now parley with Saudis\nI'ma, Sufi to goofies, I could prolly speak Farsi\nThat's poetry, reek of coca leaf in my past\nCame through the bushes smellin' like roses\nI need a trophy just for that\nOld Brooklyn, not this new shit, shit feel like a spoof\nFat laces in your shoe, I'm talkin' bustin' off the roof, uh\nHold a Uzi vertical, let the thing smoke\nY'all flirtin' with death, I be winkin' through the scope\nShout out to all the murderers turned murals\nPlural, fuck the Federal Bureau\nShout out to Nostrand Ave., Flushing Ave., Myrtle\nAll the County of Kings, may your ground stay fertile\nShout out to Big Poppa, Daddy Kane, heroes\nThus concludin' my concerto\nMarcy me\n\nMust be in the air\nOh, can't walk away, I know, I know\nJust the way I'm raised\nI know, I know, I know\nOh Marcy, Marcy me\nJust the way I am always gonna be\nI ain't gonna change, no\nMarcy, Marcy me, just the way I am\nI ain't gonna change, no\nI ain't gonna change, no\nCouldn't change me if I wanted to\nYou couldn't change me if you wanted to\nI'ma take this with me to the Moon\n(Como h\u00e1s nome, cavaleiro?\nEu hei nome Todo o Mundo\nE meu tempo\u2026)"}
{"text":"\nYeah, hah, yeah, Roc-A-Fella\nWe invite you to somethin' epic, you know?\nWell, we hustle out of a sense of hopelessness\nSort of a desperation\nThrough that desperation, we become addicted\nSort of like the fiends we accustomed to servin'\nBut we feel we have nothin' to lose\nSo, we offer you, well, we offer our lives, right?\nWhat do you bring to the table?\nWhile I'm watchin' every nigga watchin' me closely\nMy shit is butter for the bread, they wanna toast me\nI keep my head, both of them, where they supposed to be\nHoes'll get you sidetracked, then clapped from close feet\nI don't sleep, I'm tired, I feel wired like codeine, these days\nA brother gotta admire me from four fiends away\nMy pain, wish it was quick to see\nFrom sellin' 'caine 'til brains was fried to a fricassee\nCan't lie, at the time it never bothered me\nAt the bar, gettin' my thug on properly\nMy squad and me lack of respect for authority\nLaughin' hard, happy to be escapin' poverty, however brief\nI know this game got valleys and peaks\nExpectation for dips, for precipitation we stack chips, hardly\nThe youth I used to be, soon to see a mill'in\nNo more Big Willie, my game has grown\nPrefer you call me William\nIllin' for revenues, Rayful Edmond-like\nChannel 7 News, round seven jewels, head dead in the mic\nForgettin' all I ever knew, convenient amnesia\n\"I suggest you call my lawyer, I know the procedure.\"\nLock my body, can't trap my mind\nEasily explain why we adapt to crime\nI'd rather die enormous than live dormant, that's how we on it\nLive at the main event, I bet a trip to Maui on it\nPresidential suites my residential for the weekend\nConfidentially speakin' in codes since I sense you peekin'\nThe NSX rental, don't be fooled, my game is mental\nWe both out of town, dog, what you tryin' to get into?\nViva Las Vegas, see ya later at the crap tables\nMeet me by the one that starts a G up\nThis way no Fraud Willies present gamblin' they re-up\nAnd we can have a pleasant time, sippin' margaritas\nYou might also like\nGe-ge-ge-yeahhh\nCan I live?\nCan I live?\nMy mind is infested with sick thoughts that circle\nLike a Lexus, if driven wrong it's sure to hurt you\nDual level like duplexes, in unity\nMy crew and me commit atrocities like we got immunity\nYou guessed it, manifest it\nIn tangible goods, platinum Rolex'd it\nWe don't lease, we buy the whole car, as you should\nMy confederation, dead a nation\nExplode on detonation, overload the mind of a said patient\nWhen it boils to steam, it comes to it\nWe all fiends, gotta do it: even righteous minds go through this\nTrue this, the streets school us to spend our money foolish\nBond with jewelers and watch for intruders\nI stepped it up another level, meditated like a Buddhist\nRecruited lieutenants with ludicrous dreams of gettin' cream\n\"Let's do this,\" it gets tedious\nSo I keep one eye open like CBS \u2014 you see me stressed, right?\n\nCan I live?\nCan I live?\nCan I live?\nCan I live?"}
{"text":"\nPresidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)\n\nRock on, Roc-A-Fella y'all\nThe saga continues (What the fuck?)\n\nAhh, who wanna bet us that we don't touch lettuce?\nStack cheddars forever, live treacherous, all the et ceteras\nTo the death of us, me and my confidants, we shine\nYou feel the ambiance, y'all niggas just rhyme\nBy the ounce, dough accumulates like snow\nWe don't just shine, we illuminate the whole show, you feel me?\nFactions from the other side would love to kill me\nSpill three quarts of my blood into the street, let alone the heat\nFuck 'em, they hate a nigga lovin' his life\nIn all possible ways, know the Feds is buggin' my life\nHospital days, reflectin' when my man laid up\nOn the Uptown hot block, he got his side sprayed up\nI saw his life slippin', this is a minor setback\nYo, still in all we livin', just dream about the get-back\nThat made him smile, though his eyes said, \"Pray for me\"\nI'll do you one better and slay these niggas faithfully\nMurder is a tough thing to digest, it's a slow process (Mm)\nAnd I ain't got nothin' but time\nI had near brushes, not to mention\nThree shots, close range, never touched me, divine intervention\nCan't stop I, from drinkin' Mai-Tai's, with Ty-Ty\nDown in Nevada, haha, poppa, word life\nI dabbled in crazy weight without rap, I was crazy straight\nPartner, I'm still spendin' money from '88, what?\nYou might also like\nPresidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)\n\nYeah, know what?\nI'll make, you and your wack mans fold like bad hands\nRoll like Monopoly, advance\nYou're coppin' me like white crystal\nI gross the most at the end of the fiscal year than these niggas can wish to\nThe dead presidential candidate\nWith the sprinkles and the Presidential ice that'll offend you\nIn due time when crime flees my mind\nAll sneak thieves and player haters can shine\nBut until then, I keep the trilliant cut diamonds shinin' brilliant (Uh)\nI'll tell you half the story, the rest, you fill it in\nLong as the villain win\nI spend Japan yen, attend major events\nCatch me in the joints, convinced my iguanas is bitin'\nJ-A-Y hyphen, controllin', manipulatin'\nI got a good life, man, pounds and pence\n'Nough dollars make sense, while you ride the bench\nCatch me swingin' for the fence\nDead presidents, ya know? Uh-huh\nDead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)\nDead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)\n\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)\n\nHaha, yeah (Haha) yeah, so be it\nThe Soviet, the Unified steady flow\nYou already know, you light, I'm heavy, roll heavy dough\nMic-macheted your flow\nYour paper falls slow like confetti, mine's a steady grow, perico\nPay 580 for blow, better believe I have 1160 to show\nMy dough flip like Tae-Kwon\nJay-Z the icon, baby, you like Dom?\nMaybe this Cristals'll change your life, huh? Roll with the winners\nHeavy spinners like hit records, Roc-A-Fella\nDon't get it corrected, this shit is perfected\nFrom chips to chicks to strippin' in Lexus\nNaked without your gun, we takin' everything you brung\nWe cakin', you niggas is fakin', we gettin' it done\nCrime family, well-connected, Jay-Z\nAnd you fake thugs is unplugged like MTV\nI empty three, take your treasure, my pleasure\nDead presidentials, politics as usual\u2014Blaow!\nDead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)\nDead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)\nDead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)\nDead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)\n\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for dead fuckin' presidents to represent me (Whose-)"}
{"text":"Just let me be great\nLet me be great\nI feel like mothafuckin' Cassius Clay right now\nGenius!\nDon't be good my nigga, be great\nAfter that government cheese, we eating steak\nAfter the projects, now we on estates\nI'm from the bottom, I know you can relate\nFuck up the world\nJust fuck up this world\nFuck up the world\n\nMe and destiny got a date\nMartin had a dream, Hov got a team\nMy chain already heavy, don't let me get a ring\nParades down Flatbush, confetti on my fur\nTurn right in Rutland, niggas heavy on the curb\nSee most my niggas died early twenties or late teens\nI'm just trying to come from under the thumb of this regime\n1% of a billion more than niggas even seen\nStill they wanna act like it's an everyday thing, clean\nYou might also like\nFuck up this world\nFuck up this world\nFuck up this world\nFuck up the, uhh\n\nHigh Yellow sky dweller and the rose gold\nLegend of the summer in the Rose Bowl\nCame through Pasadena in the low-low\nJust to show respect to the cholos\nFeelin' like a stranger in my own land\nGot me feeling like Brody in Homeland\nI just want a shot to show my genius\nStanding on the top hold my penis\nAmerica tried to emasculate the greats\nMurdered Malcolm, gave Cassius the shakes\nWait, tell them rumble young man rumble\nTry to dim your lights tell you be humble\nYou know I'm gon' shine like a trillion watts\nYou know a nigga trill as Michael Jackson socks\nSendin' light out to Compton and the hundred blocks\nLil bastard boy, basking on top\n\nI fuck up this world\nJust fuck up this world\nLet's fuck up the world\nFuck up the, uhh\nSipping D'USS\u00c9 boy this ain't your daddy yak\nHe in a Cadillac; me? I'm in the Maybach\nThis ain't grey sweat suits and white tube socks\nThis is black leather pants and a pair of Stance\nSocks is my synopsis is clear\nGot strip clubs feeling like Oxford, I swear\nTeacher-teacher, I'm trying to unteach ya\nAll the shit they taught y'all, they got you all in the bleachers\nWhen you front row at the Knicks game, those the Spike Lees\nYou front row everywhere, you in the H.O.V.'s\nJordan 1's and dungarees\nAnd that's just the half of my warpath\nMake a million another million let my niggas make a million\n'til we all check a billion, shit it's just the way I'm feeling\nWe have yet to see a ceiling, we just top what we top\nCause the bars don't struggle when the struggle don't stop\n\nJust fuck up this world"}
{"text":"\nKanyeezy you did it again, you a genius, nigga!\n\nLucifer, son of the morning! I'm gonna chase you out of Earth\n(I'm from the murder capital, where we murder for capital)\nLucifer, son of the morning! I'm gonna chase you out of Earth\n(So you need to change your attitude 'fore they asking what happened to you)\n\nLord forgive him, he got them dark forces in him\nBut he also got a righteous cause for sinning\nThem-a-murder me, so I gotta murder them first\nEmergency, doctors performing procedures\nJesus, I ain't trying to be facetious, but\n\"Vengeance is mine\" sayeth the Lord, you said it better than all\nLeave niggas on death's door, breathing on\nRespirators for killing my best boy, haters\nOn permanent hiatus as I skate\nIn the Maybach Benz, flyer than Sanaa Lathan\nPumping \"Brown Sugar\" by D'Angelo\nIn Los Angeles, like an evangelist\nI can introduce you to your maker\nBring you closer to nature, ashes after they cremate you bastards\nHope you been reading your psalms and chapters\nPaying your tithe, being good Catholics, I'm coming\nYou might also like\nLucifer, Lucifer, son of the morning! I'm gonna chase you out of Earth\n(I'm from the murder capital, where we murder for capital)\nLucifer, Lucifer, son of the morning! I'm gonna chase you out of Earth\n(So you need to change your attitude 'fore they asking what happened to you)\n\nYes, this is holy war, I wet y'all all with the holy water\nSpray from the Heckler-Koch automatic\nAll the static, shall cease to exist\nLike a sabbatical, I throw couple at you, take six!\nSpread love, to all of my dead thugs\nI pour out a little Louis, 'till I head above\nYessir, and when I perish, the meek shall inherit the Earth\n'til that time, it's on and popping, church\nLike Don Bishop, the fifth or palm cock either\nLift up your soul or give you the holy ghost\nPlease I leave you in somebody's cathedral for stunting like Evel Knievel\nI'll let you see where that bright light leads you\nThe more you talk, the more you irking us\nThe more you gon' need memorial services\nThe Black Album, second verse, is like\nDevil's pie, save some dessert for us\n\nMan, I gotta get my soul right\nI gotta get these devils out my life\nThese cowards gonna make a nigga ride\nThey won't be happy 'til somebody die\nOh man, I gotta get my soul right\n'Fore I'm locked up for my whole life\nEvery time it seems it's alright\nSomebody want they soul to rise\nI chase you off of this Earth\n(Let me get serious for y'all, one second)\nI got dreams of holding a nine milla to Bob's killer\nAsking him \"why?\" as my eyes fill up\nThese days I can't wake up with a dry pillow\nGone but not forgotten, homes I still feel ya\nSo, curse the day that birthed the bastard\nWho caused your church mass, reverse the crash\nReverse the blast then reverse the car\nReverse the day and there you are, Bobalob\nLord forgive him, we all have sinned\nBut Bob's a good dude, please let him in\nAnd if you feel in my heart that I long for revenge\nPlease blame it on the son of the morning, thanks again"}
{"text":"\nTurn my music high, high, high, higher\n(You don't know what you're doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014)\nSure, I do\n\nI'm from the streets where the hood could swallow 'em and\nBullets'd follow 'em and\nThere's so much coke that you could run the slalom\nAnd cops comb the shit top to bottom\nAnd say that we are prone to violence, but it's home sweet home\nWhere personalities clash and chrome meets chrome\nThe coke prices up and down like it's Wall Street, holmes\nBut this is worse than the Dow Jones, your brains are now blown\nAll over that brown Brougham, one slip, you are now gone\nWelcome to Hell, where you are welcome to sell\nBut when them shells come, you better return 'em\nAll scars, we earn 'em\nAll cars, we learn 'em like the back of our hand\nWe watch for cops hoppin' out the back of vans\nWear a G on my chest, I don't need Dapper Dan\nThis ain't a sewn outfit, holmes, holmes is about it\nWas clappin' them flamers before I became famous\nFor playin' me, y'all shall forever remain nameless\nYou might also like\nI am Hov (You don't know what you're doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014)\nSure I do\n\nI tell you the difference between me and them\nThey tryin' to get they ones, I'm tryin' to get them M's\nOne million, two million, three million, four\nIn just five years, forty million more\nYou are now lookin' at the forty million boy\nI'm rapin' Def Jam 'til I'm the hundred million man\n\nR-O-C (You don't know what you're doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014)\nThat's where you're wrong\n\nI came into this motherfucker hundred grand strong\nNine to be exact, from grindin' G-packs\nPut this shit in motion, ain't no rewindin' me back\nCould make forty off a brick, but one rhyme could beat that\nAnd if somebody woulda told 'em that Hov would sell clothin'\nNot in this lifetime, wasn't in my right mind\nThat's another difference that's between me and them\nI smarten up, open the market up\nOne million, two million, three million, four\nIn eighteen months, eighty million more\nNow add that number up with the one I said before\nYou are now lookin' at one smart Black boy\nMama ain't raise no fool\nPut me anywhere on God's green earth, I'll triple my worth, motherfucker\nI will not lose (You don't know what you're doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014)\nPut somethin' on it\n\nI sell ice in the winter, I sell fire in Hell\nI am a hustler, baby, I'll sell water to a whale\nI was born to get cake, move on and switch states\nCop the coupe with the roof gone and switch plates\nWas born to dictate, never follow orders, dick face\nGet your shit straight, fucker, this is Big Jay\n\nI\u2014 hahahaha (You don't know what you're doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014 doin'\u2014)\nWill not lose, ever\nFucker"}
{"text":"Ready for it\nI'm ready for it\nYeah, ah\n\nEastside nigga with the feets high\nNigga with that Lisa, uh\nTalkin' about that Lisa, nigga, with that Westside, nigga\nWith that Eastside, that dance, uh\n\nYour eyes speak the truth when everything else lies\nMay pretend that we kin but the vibes don't fly\nBruh, I survived readin' guys like you\nI'm surprised y'all think you can disguise y'all truths\nI seen eyes wide as they're about to shoot\nYou can be a hairpin, off and you can trigger your roots\nI wave to these haters, don't give me dap\nYou know the world can see just how phony you act, bruh\nY'all body language is all remedial\nHow could you see the difference between you and I?\nMy crash course was much tougher\nRound friends who kill they friends\nThen hug their friends' mothers\nAnd show up at the funeral, complete with blank stares\nInvisible ink, I had to read things that wasn't there\nMemories may sneak down my cheek\nBut I could see a side-eye in my sleep\nYou might also like\nReady for it, deep breath, fill up the void\nEyes, open them up, check off the coins\nStill stingin' from tears, they try to see you\nI'm ready for earth, ready for real\nSolipsistic, admit it, I see you there\nSo it seems, so you seem (Uh-huh, yeah)\nI can't tell if you're image or are just the flare (Yeah)\nIn my dreams, in my dreams (Ugh)\n\nI sat down with Prince, eye to eye\nHe told me his wishes before he died\nNow, Londell McMillan, he must be color blind\nThey only see green from them purple eyes\nThey eyes hide, they eyes high\nMy eyes wide shut to all the lies\nThese industry niggas, they always been fishy\nBut ain't no Biggie, no lazy eye, huh\nThis guy has \"Slave\" on his face\nYou think he wanted the masters with his masters?\nYou greedy bastards sold tickets to walk through his house\nI'm surprised you ain't auction off the casket\nDon't \"big bro\" me, don't \"Big Homie\"\nI've seen pure admiration become rivals\nI've been to Paris at least two times\nI've seen the Eiffel, I've seen a eyeful\nReady for it, deep breath, fill up the void\nEyes, open them up, check off the coins\nStill stingin' from tears, they try to see you\nI'm ready for earth, ready for real\nSolipsistic, admit it, I see you there\nSo it seems, so you seem\nI can't tell if you're image or are just the flare\nIn my dreams, in my dreams\n\nI've been out of touch for a couple years\nI've been ready for this for real\nHopin' I can touch what I see\n'Cause I've been ready for you, for real\n\nLook, you've done enough\nHave you no sense of decency, sir?\nAt long last, have you left no sense of decency?\n\nEastside nigga with the feets high\nNigga with that Lisa, uh\nTalkin' about that Lisa, nigga, with that Westside, nigga\nWith that Eastside, uh"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsCan I Get A\u2026 Lyrics\nWhat?\nWell fuck you... bitch\nNow can you bounce wit me, wit me, wit me wit me\nCan you bounce wit me, bounce wit me, wit me wit me\nCan you bounce wit me, bounce wit me, ge-gi-gi-gi-gi-gi\nCan you bounce wit me, bounce wit me, ye-ye-yeah\nUh-huh uh-huh bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nCan ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nYa-yah-yah, ya-ya-yah-yeah bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nGe-gi, ge-gi-gi-gi-geyeah bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nGet it!\n\nCan I hit in the mornin' without givin' you half of my dough\nAnd even worse, if I was broke would you want me\nIf I couldn't get you finer things like all of them diamond rings\nBitches kill for would you still roll\nIf we couldn't see the sun risin' off the shore of Thailand\nWould you ride then, if I wasn't driving\nIf I wasn't a eight-figure nigga by the name of Jigga\nWould you come around me or would you clown me\nIf I couldn't flow futuristic, would ya\nPut your two lips on my wood and kiss it, could ya\nSee yourself with a nigga working hard at a nine to five\nTen to six, two jobs to survive, or\nDo you need a baller, so you can shop and tear the mall up\nBrag, tell your friends what I bought ya\nIf you couldn't see yourself with a nigga when his dough is low\nBaby girl, if this is so, yo\nYou might also like\nCan I get a fuck you\nTo these bitches from all of my niggas\nWho don't love hoes, they get no dough\nCan I get a woop woop\nTo these niggas from all of my bitches\nWho don't got love for niggas without dubs\nCan I get a fuck you\nTo these bitches from all of my niggas\nWho don't love hoes, they get no dough\nCan I get a woop woop\nTo these niggas from all of my bitches\nWho don't got love for niggas without dubs\n\nNow can you bounce wit me, uhh\nBounce wit me, bounce wit me\nCan ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nUh uh.. Major Coins, Amil-lion\nBounce wit me, bounce wit me\nUhh, yo bounce wit me\nCan ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nYeah, uh-uh uh uh\n\nYou ain't gotta be rich but fuck that\nHow we gonna get around on your bus pass\nBefore I put this pussy on your mustache\nCan you afford me? My niggas breadwinners, never corny\nAmbition makes me so horny\nNot the fussin' and the frontin'\nIf you got nothing, baby boy, you better\nGet up, get out and get some, shit\nI like a - lot of Prada, Aliz\u00e9 and vodka\nLate nights, candlelight, then I tear the cock up\nGet it up I put it down e'rytime it pop up, huh\nI got to snap 'em, let it loose, then I knock ya\nFeel the juice, then I got ya - when you produce a rock\nI let you meet momma and introduce you to poppa\nMy - coochie remains in a Gucci name\nNever test my patience, nigga, I'm high maintenance\nHigh class, if you ain't rollin', bypass\nIf you ain't holdin' I dash yo\nCan I get a fuck you\nTo these bitches from all of my niggas\nWho don't love hoes, they get no dough\nCan I get a woop woop\nTo these niggas from all of my bitches\nWho don't got love for niggas without dubs\nCan I get a fuck you\nTo these bitches from all of my niggas\nWho don't love hoes, they get no dough\nCan I get a woop woop\nTo these niggas from all of my bitches\nWho don't got love for niggas without dubs\n\nNow can you bounce for me, bounce for me\nUhh\nCan ya can ya can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nUhh!\nGi-gi-gi-geyeah-geyeah\nCan ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nUHH!\nGi-gi-gi-gi can ya bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nUhh! Yeah\nIt ain't even a question\nHow my dough flows, I'm good to these bad hoes\nLike my puss wet and they don't dry like damp clothes\nWhat y'all niggas don't know: it's e-asy to pimp a hoe\nBitches better have my money fo' sho'\nBefore they go runnin' they mouth, promotin' how\nI be dickin' they, back out, go 'head, let it out\nI fucks with my Gat out, bounce and leave a hundred\nMakin' 'em feel slutted even if they don't want it\nIt's been so long, since I met a chick ain't about chips but then I'm\nDead wrong, when I tell 'em, \"be gone\"\nSo hold on to the feelin' of flossin' and plat-num\n'Cause from now on, you can witness Ja the i-con\nWith hoodies and Timbs on, 'cause I thugs my bitches\nVV studs my bitches, then we rob bitch niggas\nI'm talkin' 'bout straight figures, if you here, get with us\nIf not, Boo, you know what, I still fucked you\nCan I get a fuck you\nTo these bitches from all of my niggas\nWho don't love hoes, they get no dough\nCan I get a woop woop\nTo these niggas from all of my bitches\nWho don't got love for niggas without dubs\nCan I get a fuck you\nTo these bitches from all of my niggas\nWho don't love hoes, they get no dough\nCan I get a woop woop\nTo these niggas from all of my bitches\nWho don't got love for niggas without dubs\n\nNow can you bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nGe-gi, ge-gi-gi-gi bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nWit me wit me wit me bounce wit me, bounce wit me\nBounce, bitch, bounce.. wit me wit me wit me wit me\nCan ya bounce wit me wit me\nGe-gi, uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh\nUh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh-huh uh\nCan ya bounce wit me bounce wit me\nGeyeah"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsGlory Lyrics\nThe most amazing feeling I feel\nWords can't describe the feeling, for real\nBaby, I paint the sky blue\nMy greatest creation was you, you: Glory\nUh\n\nFalse alarms and false starts (Uh)\nAll made better by the sound of your heart (Yeah)\nAll the pain of the last time\nI prayed so hard it was the last time\nYour mama said that you danced for her\nDid you wiggle your hands for her?\nGlory! Glory!\nGlory! Sorry\nEverything that I prayed for\nGod's gift, I wish I woulda prayed more\nGod makes no mistakes, I made a few\nRough sledding here and there, but I made it through\nI wreak havoc on the world (Uh)\nGet ready for part two\nA younger, smarter, faster me\nSo a pinch of Hov, a whole glass of Bey\n\nGlory, uh\nYeah, uh\nYou might also like\nThe most amazing feeling I feel\nWords can't describe the feeling, for real\nBaby, I paint the sky blue (Uh)\nMy greatest creation was you\n\nYour Grandpop died of nigga failure\nThen he died of liver failure\nDeep down, he was a good man\nGoddamn, I can't deliver failure\nBad-ass lil' Hov\nTwo years old, shopping on Savile Row\nWicked-ass lil B\nHard not to spoil you rotten, looking like little me\nThe most beautifulest thing in this world\nIs daddy's little girl\nYou don't yet know what swag is but you was made in Paris\nAnd Mama woke up the next day and shot her album package\nLast time, the miscarriage was so tragic\nWe was afraid you'd disappear, but nah, baby, you magic (Voil\u00e0!)\nSo there you have it, shit happens\nJust make sure the plane you on is bigger than your carry-on baggage, uh\nEverybody go through stuff\nLife is a gift, love, open it up\nYou're a child of destiny\nYou're the child of my destiny\nYou're my child with the child from Destiny's Child\nThat's a hell of a recipe (Recipe)\nGlory! Glory!\nGlory! Sorry\nGlory, uh\nYeah, uh\n\nThe most amazing feeling I feel\nWords can't describe the feeling, for real\nBaby, I paint the sky blue\nMy greatest creation was you\n*baby noises*"}
{"text":"\nThank you, thank you, thank you!\nYou're far too kind\n\nNow, can I get a encore? Do you want more?\nCookin' raw with the Brooklyn boy\nSo for one last time, I need y'all to roar\nNow, what the hell are you waitin' for?\nAfter me, there shall be no more\nSo for one last time, nigga, make some noise!\n\nWho you know fresher than Hov? Riddle me that\nThe rest of y'all know where I'm lyrically at\nCan't none of y'all mirror me back\nYeah, hearin' me rap is like hearin' G Rap in his prime\nI'm Young H-O, rap's Grateful Dead\nBack to take over the globe, now break bread\nI'm in Boeing jets, Global Express\nOut the country, but the blueberry still connect\nOn the low, but the yacht got a triple deck\nBut when you Young, what the fuck you expect? Yep, yep\nGrand openin', grand closin'\nGoddamn, your man Hov cracked the can open again\nWho you gon' find doper than him?\nWith no pen, just draw off inspiration\nSoon you gonna see you can't replace him\nWith cheap imitations for these generations\nYou might also like\nNow, can I get an encore? Do you want more?\nCookin' raw with the Brooklyn boy\nSo for one last time, I need y'all to roar\nNow what the hell are you waitin' for?\n\nLook what you made me do! Look what I made for you!\nKnew if I paid my dues, how will they pay you\nWhen you first come in the game, they try to play you\nThen you drop a couple of hits, look how they wave to you\nFrom Marcy to Madison Square\nTo the only thing that matters in just a matter of years (yeah)\nAs fate would have it, Jay's status appears\nTo be at an all-time high, perfect time to say goodbye\nWhen I come back like Jordan\nWearin' the 4-5, it ain't to play games with you\nIt's to aim at you, probably maim you\nIf I owe you I'm blowin' you to smithereens\nCocksucker, take one for your team!\nAnd I need you to remember one thing (One thing)\nI came, I saw, I conquered\nFrom record sales to sold-out concerts\nSo, motherfucker, if you want this encore\nI need you to scream 'til your lungs get sore\nOw, it's star time\nThis man is mean, he's killin' all y'all jive turkeys\nDo y'all want more of the Jigga man?\nWell, if y'all want more of the Jigga man\nThen I need y'all to help me bring him back to the stage\nSay \"Hova!\", c'mon, say it!\nAre y'all out there? (Ho-va! Ho-va!)\nC'mon, louder!\nYeah, now see that's what I'm talking about\nThey love you, Jigga! They love you, Jigga!\n\nI like the way this one feel\nIt's so motherfuckin' soulful, man!\n(Woah, woah, woah)\nYeah, okay\n\nSo this here is the victory lap\nThen I'm leavin', that's how you get me back\nAfter a year of them 16's, it's 1.2\nAnd that's 2.4, and I'm only doin' 2\nYou want in the game? Attention, new dudes\nI can get you BET, and TRL, too\nYou want to be in the public, send your budget\nWell, fuck it, I ain't budgin'\nYoung did it to death, you gotta love it\nRecord companies told me I couldn't cut it\nNow look at me: all star-studded\nGolfer above par like I putted\nAll \u2018cause the shit I uttered was utterly ridiculous\nHow sick is this?\nYou want to bang, send Kanye change\nSend Just some dust, send Hip a grip\nThen you gotta spit, a little somethin' like this\nWhat the hell are you waiting for?"}
{"text":"\nWoo! Geah, geah (Young) geah\nUhh, turn the music up, turn the lights down, I'm in my zone\n\nThank God for granting me this moment of clarity\nThis moment of honesty\nThe world'll feel my truths\nAll through my Hard Knock Lifetime, A Gift and a Curse\nI gave you Volume after Volume of my work\nSo you can feel my truths\nI built the Dynasty by being one of the realest niggas out\nWay beyond a Reasonable Doubt\nY'all can't fill my shoes\nFrom my Blueprint beginning to that Black Album ending\nListen close, you'll hear what I'm about\nNigga, feel my truths\nPop died, didn't cry, didn't know him that well\nBetween him doing heroin and me doing crack sales\nWith that in the eggshell, standing at the tabernacle\nRather the church, pretending to be hurt wouldn't work\nSo a smirk was all on my face\nLike, \"Damn, that man's face is just like my face\"\nSo Pop, I forgive you for all the shit that I lived through\nIt wasn't all your fault, homie, you got caught\nInto the same game I fought (Ugh), that Uncle Ray lost (Ugh)\nMy big brothers and so many others I saw\nI'm just glad we got to see each other\nTalk and re-meet each other\nSave a place in Heaven 'til the next time we meet forever!\nYou might also like\nThank God for granting me this moment of clarity\nThis moment of honesty\nThe world'll feel my truths\nAll through my Hard Knock Lifetime, A Gift and a Curse\nI gave you Volume after Volume of my work\nSo you can feel my truths\nI built the Dynasty by being one of the realest niggas out\nWay beyond a Reasonable Doubt\nY'all can't fill my shoes\nFrom my Blueprint beginning to that Black Album ending\nListen close, you'll hear what I'm about\nNigga, feel my truths\n\nMusic business hate me \u2018cause the industry ain't make me\nHustlers and boosters embrace me and the music I be making\nI dumb down for my audience and double my dollars\nThey criticize me for it, yet they all yell \"holla\"\nIf skills sold, truth be told, I'd probably be lyrically Talib Kweli\nTruthfully I wanna rhyme like Common Sense\nBut I did 5 mill' \u2013 I ain't been rhyming like Common since (Woo!)\nWhen your cents got that much in common\nAnd you been hustling since your inception\nFuck perception! Go with what makes sense\nSince I know what I'm up against\nWe as rappers must decide what's most important\nAnd I can't help the poor if I'm one of them\nSo I got rich and gave back, to me that's the win-win\nSo next time you see the homie and his rims spin\nJust know my mind is working just like them (Rims, that is)\nThank God for granting me this moment of clarity\nThis moment of honesty\nThe world'll feel my truths\nAll through my Hard Knock Lifetime, A Gift and a Curse\nI gave you Volume after Volume of my work\nSo you can feel my truths\nI built the Dynasty by being one of the realest niggas out\nWay beyond a Reasonable Doubt\nY'all can't fill my shoes\nFrom my Blueprint beginning to that Black Album ending\nListen close, you'll hear what I'm about\nNigga, feel my truths\n\nMy homie Sig' was on a tier where no tears should fall\n\u2018Cause he was on the block where no squares get off\nSee, in my inner circle, all we do is ball\n'Til we all got triangles on our wall\nAin't just rapping for the platinum, y'all record\nI recall, \u2018cause I really been there before (Woo)\nFour scores and seven years ago, prepared the flow\nPrepared for war, I should fear no man\nYou don't hear me though, these words ain't just paired to go\nIn one ear, out the other ear, no! (No)\nYo, my balls and my word is alls I have\nWhat you gonna do to me, nigga? Scars'll scab\nWhat, you gonna box me, homie? I can dodge a jab\nThree shots couldn't touch me, thank God for that\nI'm strong enough to carry Biggie Smalls on my back (Sup Big?)\nAnd the whole BK, nigga, holla back!\nThank God for granting me this moment of clarity\nThis moment of honesty\nThe world'll feel my truths\nAll through my Hard Knock Lifetime, A Gift and a Curse\nI gave you Volume after Volume of my work\nSo you can feel my truths\nI built the Dynasty by being one of the realest niggas out\nWay beyond a Reasonable Doubt\nY'all can't fill my shoes\nFrom my Blueprint beginning to that Black Album ending\nListen close, you'll hear what I'm about\nNigga, feel my truths"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisJay Z Blue Lyrics\n\u201cI work and work 'til I'm half-dead and I hear people saying\n\"She's getting old,\" and what do I get? A daughter\nWho cares as much about the beautiful dresses I give her\nAs she cares about ME!\u201d\n\nLet's do this for these babies\nMercedes truck, fuck, houses on acres\nBlatantly ballin' on HD\nY'all need to step up y'all AV\nLife changed again I was already taking off\nMy flight changed again\nSlight change of winds\nIt's barely 12 noon and my wife changed again\nBaby need Pampers\nDaddy need at least three weeks in the Hamptons\nPlease don't judge me, only hugged the block\nI thought my daddy didn't love me\nMy baby getting chubby\nCue that Stevie Wonder music, aww, isn't she lovely?\nNow I'm staring at her praying that things don't get ugly\nAnd I'm stuck in that old cycle like wife leaves hubby\nFuck joint custody, I need a joint right now\nJust the thought alone fucks with me\nYou might also like\nHigh on life\nI could die from the fall, imagine if I hit the floor\nApologies in order to Blue Ivy my daughter\nIf it was up to me, you would be with me, sort of like daddy dearest\n\n\"Don't fuck with me fellas. This ain't my first time at the rodeo.\"\n\nI dream filthy (My mom and pops)\nMixed me with Jamaican (Rum and whiskey, what a set off)\nAnd I know I'm not perfect baby\nI done been through so much trauma, it gonna be hard to reverse it\nWith some doctors and some nurses maybe\nTeach me on how to treat a lady, open doors on the 'Cedes\nThis relationship shit is complicated\nAll I know if we ain't speaking everyday, I fucking hate it\nI don't wanna duplicate it\nI seen my mom and pop drive each other mothafuckin' crazy\nAnd I got that nigga blood in me\nI got his ego and his temper, all is missing is the drugs in me\n\nHigh on life\nI could die from the fall, imagine if I hit the floor\nApologies in order to Blue Ivy my daughter\nIf it was up to me, you would be with me, sort of like daddy dearest\n\"No... wire... hangers... EVER!\"\n\nFather never taught me how to be a father, treat a mother\nI don't wanna have to just repeat another leave another\nBaby with no daddy want no momma drama\nI just wanna take her back to a time when everything was calmer\nOut in Paris on a terrace watching the Eiffel Tower\nAnd a Ferris wheel yet and still, nothing could prepare us\nFor the beauty that you be Blue be\nLooking in your eyes is like a mirror, have to face my fears\nCheer up, why can't you just be happy\nWithout these back and forth thoughts, you too much like your daddy\nBadly I just wanna spent more time with him\nSadly life wouldn't let me get around with him\nNow I got my own daughter, taught her how to take her first steps\nCut the cord watch her take her first breath\nAnd I'm trying and I'm lying if I said I wasn't scared\nBut in life and death if I ain't here\n\nHigh on life\nI could die from the fall, imagine if I hit the floor\nApologies in order to Blue Ivy my daughter\nIf it was up to me, you would be with me, sort of like daddy dearest"}
{"text":"First the Fat Boys break up, now every day I wake up\nSomebody got a problem with Hov\nWhat's up? Y'all niggas all fed up 'cause I got a little cheddar\nAnd my record's movin' out the store?\nYoung fucks spittin' at me, young rappers gettin' at me\nMy nigga Big predicted this shit exactly\n\"Mo' Money, Mo' Problems,\" gotta move carefully\n'Cause faggots hate when you gettin' money like athletes\nYoungins ice-grillin' me, oh, you not feelin' me?\nFine, it cost you nothin', pay me no mind\nLook, I'm on my grind, cousin, ain't got time for frontin'\nSensitive thugs, y'all all need hugs\nDamn, little mans, I'm just tryna do me\nIf the record's two mil', I'm just tryna move three\nGet a couple chicks, get 'em to try to do E\nHopefully they'll m\u00e9nage before I reach my garage\nI don't want much, fuck, I drove every car\nSome nice cooked food, some nice clean drawers\nBird-ass niggas, I don't mean to ruffle y'all\nI know you waitin' in the wing, but I'm doin' my thing\nWhere's the love?\n\nAin't no love in the heart of the city\nI said where's the love?\nAin't no love in the heart of town (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nAnd then the Fugees gon' break up, now every day I wake up\nSomebody got somethin' to say\nWhat's all the fuckin' fussin' for?\nBecause I'm grubbin' more?\nAnd I pack heat like I'm the oven door?\nNiggas pray and pray on my downfall\nBut every time I hit the ground, I bounce up like roundball\nNow, I don't wanna have to kill soundboys\nDon't wanna have to cock back the four-pound bar\nLook, scrapper, I got nephews to look after\nI'm not lookin' at you dudes, I'm lookin' past ya\nI thought I told you characters I'm not a rapper\nCan I live?\nI told you '96 that I came to take this shit and I did\nHandle my biz, I scramble like Randall with his\nCunningham, but the only thing runnin' is numbers, fam\nJigga held you down six summers, damn, where's the love?\n\nAin't no love in the heart of the city\nNiggas, where's the love?\nAin't no love in the heart of town (Holla at me)\nAin't no love (Take 'em to church), in the heart of the city\nUh, uh, uh, uh, my nigga, where is the love?\nAin't no love in the heart of town (Fuck)\nThen Richard Pryor go and burn up\nAnd Ike and Tina Turner break up\nThen I wake up to more bullshit\nYou knew me before records, you never disrespected me\nNow that I'm successful, you'll pull this shit\nNigga, I'll step on your porch, step to your boss\nLet's end the speculation, I'm talkin' to all of y'all\nMales shouldn't be jealous, that's a female trait\nWhat, you mad 'cause you push dimes and he sell weight?\nY'all don't know my expenses, I gotta buy bigger plates\nHaha, and more baggies, why you all aggy?\nNigga, respect the game, that should be it\nWhat you eat don't make me shit\nWhere's the love?\nWhere's the love?\n\nAin't no love in the heart of the city\nAin't no love in the heart of town\nAin't no love in the heart of the city\nAin't no love in the heart of town\nAin't no love in the heart of the city\nAin't no love in the heart of town\nAin't no love"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsLost One Lyrics\nUh, uh, uh, uh\nUh, uh (It's not a diss song, it's just a real song)\nUh, uh (You feel me?)\nI heard motherfuckers sayin' they made Hov\nMade Hov say, \"Okay, so? Make another Hov!\"\nNiggas wasn't playin' they day role\nSo we parted ways like Ben and J-Lo\nI shoulda been did it but I been in a daze though\nI put friends over business end of the day though\nBut when friends' business interests is Day Glow\nAin't nothin' left to say though, I guess we forgot what we came fo'\nShoulda stayed in food and beverage\nToo much flossin', too much Sam Rothstein\nI ain't a bitch but I gotta divorce them\nHov had to get the shallow shit up off him\nAnd I ain't even want to be famous\nNiggas is brainless to unnecessarily go through these changes\nAnd I ain't even know how it came to this\nExcept that fame is the worst drug known to man\nIt's stronger than, heroin\nWhen you could look in the mirror like, \"There I am\"\nAnd still not see what you've become\nI know I'm guilty of it too, but not like them; you lost one\nYou might also like\nLose one, let go to get one (One, one, one)\nGet one, lose some to win some (One, one, one, one, you lost one)\nStory of a champion (One, one, one)\nSorry, I'm a champion, you lost one (One, one, one, one, uh)\nI don't think it's meant to be, B\nFor she loves her work more than she does me\nAnd honestly, at twenty-three\nI would probably love my work more than I did she\nSo, we ain't we, it's me and her\n'Cause what she prefers over me is work\nAnd that's where we differ\nSo I have to give her free time, even if it hurts\nSo, breathe, mami, it's deserved\nYou've been put on this Earth to be all you can be like the Reserves\nAnd me? My time in the army, it's served\nSo I have to allow she her time to serve\nThe time's now for her, in time she'll mature\nAnd maybe we can be we again like we were\nFinally, my time's too short to share\nAnd to ask her now it ain't fair, so yeah, she lost one\n\nLose, one, let go to get one (One, one, one)\nGet one, lose some to win some\nOne, one, one, oh yeah, she lost one\nStory of a champion (One, one, one)\nSorry I'm a champion, you lost one (One, one, one)\nMy nephew died in the car I bought\nSo under the belief it's partly my fault\nClose my eyes and squeeze, try to block that thought\nPlace any burden on me but please, not that, Lord\nBut time don't go back, it goes forward\nCan't run from the pain, go towards it\nSome things can't be explained, what caused it?\nSuch a beautiful soul, so pure, shit!\nGonna see you again, I'm sure of it\n'Til that time, little man, I'm nauseous\nYour girlfriend's pregnant, the Lord's gift\nAlmost lost my faith, that restored it\nIt's like havin' your life restarted\nCan't wait for your child's life to be a part of it\nSo now I'm child-like, waitin' for a gift\nTo return, when I lost you, I lost it\n\nLose, one, let go to get one (One, one, one)\nGet, one, lose some to win some\nOne, one, one, Colleek, I lost one\nStory of a champion (One, one, one)\nColleek, you're a champion, I lost one (One, one, one)"}
{"text":"Under the spot, under the spot\nI got a million ways to get it (uh-huh, geah)\n... Choose one (choose one, hey)\nAy, bring it back, bring it back (uh-huh)\nNow double your money and make a stack\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\n(Hold up) Freeze! Ay!\nSomebody bring me back the money please, hey\n\nHov' on that new shit, niggas like \"How come?\"\nNiggas want my old shit, buy my old albums\nNiggas stuck on stupid, I gotta keep it movin'\nNiggas make the same shit, me I make The Blueprint\nCame in the Range, hopped out the Lexus\nEvery year since, I been on that next shit\nTraded in the gold for the platinum Rolexes\nNow a nigga wrist match the status of my records\nUsed to rock a throwback, ballin' on the corner\nNow I rock a tailored suit, lookin' like a owner\nNo I'm not a Jonas, Brother, I'm a grown up\nNo I'm not a virgin, I use my cojones\nI move onward, the only direction\nCan't be scared to fail in search of perfection\nGotta keep it fresh girl, even when we sexin'\nBut don't be mad at him when it's on to the next one\nYou might also like\nFreeze, somebody bring me back some money please\nI got a million ways to get it, choose one\nBring it back, now double your money and make it stack\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\n(Hold up) Freeze! Ay!\nSomebody bring me back some money please\n\nFuck a throwback jersey cause we on to the next one\nAnd fuck that Auto-Tune cause we onnnnn\nAnd niggas, don't be mad, cause it's all about progression\nLoiterers should be arrested\nI used to drink Cristal, them muh'fuckers racist\nSo I switched gold bottles on to that Spade shit\nYou gon' have another drink or you just gon' baby-sit\nOn to the next one, somebody call the waitress\nBaby, I'm a boss, I don't know what they do\nI don't get dropped, I drop the label\nWorld can't hold me, too much ambition\nAlways knew it'd be like this when I was in the kitchen\nNiggas in the same spot, me I'm dodgin' raindrops\nMeanin' I'm on vacay, chillin' on a big yacht\nYeah I got on flip-flops, white Louie boat shoes\nY'all should grow the fuck up, c'mere let me coach you\nHold up\nFreeze, somebody bring me back some money please\nI got a million ways to get it, choose one\nBring it back, now double your money and make it stack\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\n(Hold up) Freeze! Ay!\nSomebody bring me back some money please\n\nUhh, Big Pimpin' in the house now\nBought the land, tore the muh'fuckin house down\nBought the car, tore the muh'fuckin roof off\nRide clean, I don't never take the shoes off\nBought the jeep, tore the muh'fuckin doors off\nFoot out that bitch, ride the shit like a skateboard\nNavigation on, tryin' to find my next thrill\nFeelin' myself, I don't even need a X pill\nCan't chill but my neck will\nHaters really gon' be mad off my next deal\nUhh, I don't know why they worry 'bout my pockets\nMeanwhile I had Oprah chillin' in the projects\nHad her out in Bed-Stuy, chillin' on the steps\nDrinkin' quarter waters, I gotta be the best\nM.J. at Summer Jam, Obama on the text\nY'all should be afraid of what I'm gon' do next\nHold up\nFreeze, somebody bring me back some money please\nI got a million ways to get it, choose one\nBring it back, now double your money and make it stack\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\nI'm on to the next one, on to the next one\n(Hold up) Freeze! Ay!\nSomebody bring me back some money please"}
{"text":"Presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for dead nikcuf presidents to represent me (Whose...)\n\nRock.. on, Roc-A-Fella y'all\n\nWhile others spit that Wonderama shit, me and my conglomerate\nShall remain anonymous, caught up in the finest shit\nLive out my dreams until my heart give out\nInvolved with cream, you know exactly what this shit's about\nFuck y'all mean? Handlin' since a teen, I dish out\nLike the point guard off your favorite team, without doubt\nMy life ain't rosy but I roll with it\nMy mind was fine till the dough hit it and told me that the Mo' did it\nAnd now it's kosher, shit is so Hasidic\nI blow a digit on a diamond in a minute but, no bitches\nWatch how I'm walkin', 'cause even the thoroughest niggas be NARC'in\nTryin' to strike a bargain, hopin' that they might get pardoned\nShit I'm involved with got me pins and needles\nAnd my cerebral breeds the wickedest evil, thoughts that this sport'll feed you\nPeep facts, in the game so deep fiends could catch a\nFreeze off my kneecap, can y'all believe that?\nGot the city drinkin' Cristals, re-up the fee\nRappers goin' broke tryin' to keep up with me\nMy rise to riches surprised the bitches: think harder\nYou know this nigga: JAY-Z, Shawn Carter\nG.S. the fuck up, dree-ess the fuck up\nWatch me shine like a Breitling, Breguets the fuck up\nAll rhymers forget it like Alzheimer's\nSmall timers, I said it, I'm addressin' all drama\nTalk to me!\nYou might also like\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for dead nikcuf presidents to represent me (Whose...)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for dead nikcuf presidents to represent me (Whose...)\n\nSo sick of niggas\n\"I want money like Cosby\" \u2013 who wouldn't?\nThis the kinda talk that make me think you probably ain't got no puddin'\nNiggas got them kinda dreams from jail\nYou in the streets, nigga, make your moves, get your mail\nNiggas'll coast in the SL but can't post bail\nNiggas'll roast a L, but scared to throw your toast, well\nI'm here to tell niggas it ain't all swell\nThere's heaven, then there's hell, niggas\nOne day you're cruisin' in your 7, next day, you're sweatin', forgettin' your lies\nAlibis ain't matchin' up, bullshit catchin' up\nHit with the RICO, they repo your vehicle\nEverything was all good just a week ago\n'Bout to start bitchin', ain't you? Ready to start snitchin', ain't you?\nI'll forgive your weak-ass: hustlin' just ain't you\nAside from the fast cars, honies that shake they ass at bars\nYou know you wouldn't be involved\nWith the underworld dealers, carriers of MAC-millers\nEast Coast bodiers, West Coast cap-peelers\nLittle monkey niggas turn gorillas\nStopped in the station, filled up on octane, and now they not sane\nAnd not playin', that goes without sayin'\nSlayin' day in and day out, when money play in, then they play you out\nTryin' to escape my own mind, lurkin' the enemy\nRepresentin' infinity with presidencies, you know?\nDead nikcuf presidents to represent me (Whose...)\nDead nikcuf presidents to represent me (Whose...)\nDead nikcuf presidents to represent me (Whose...)\nDead nikcuf presidents to represent me (Whose...)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Get money!)\nI'm out for dead nikcuf presidents to represent me (Whose...)"}
{"text":"Yeah, got a lil' cold\nSo bear with me\nYeah, yeah\n\nWe stuck in La La Land\nEven when we win, we gon' lose\nWe got the same fuckin' flows\nI don't know who is who\nWe got the same fuckin' watch\nShe don't got time to choose\nWe stuck in La La Land\nWe got the same fuckin' moves\n\nY'all fuck the same fuckin' chicks\nI'm in the skrt with ya\u2014 yeah, right\nI'm in the skrt with ya\u2014 cool story\nI'm on the j\u2014 'nough of this!\n\nLook, I know killers, you no killer, huh?\nBathing Ape maybe not a gorilla, huh?\nGlorified seat filler, huh?\nStop walkin' around like y'all made Thriller, huh?\nFake Dracos all in the videos\nWe show 'em, we shoot 'em in my city though\nI don't post no threats on the Internet\nI just pose a threat, blame Lenny S for that\nI don't be on the 'Gram goin' ham\nGivin' information to the pork, that's all spam\nPlease don't talk about guns that you ain't never gon' use\nY'all always tell on y'all self, I'm just so fuckin' confused\nYou might also like\nY'all stuck in La La Land\nEven when we win, we gon' lose\nY'all got the same fuckin' flows\nI don't know who is who\nWe got the same fuckin' watch\nShe don't got time to choose\nWe stuck in La La Land\nWe got the same fuckin' moves\n\nY'all niggas still signin' deals? Still?\nAfter all they done stole, for real?\nAfter what they done to our Lauryn Hill?\nAnd y'all niggas is 'posed to be trill?\nThat's real talk when you behind on your taxes\nAnd you pawned all your chains\nAnd they run off with your masters\nAnd took it to Beverly Hills while we in Calabasas\nAnd my head is scratchin' 'cause that shit is backwards\nThat shit ain't right, Lucian is cool\nBut Lucian don't write, Doug ain't this tight\nSo fuck what we sellin', fuck is we makin'?\n'Cause their grass is greener 'cause they always rakin' in mo'\n\nNa-na-na-na\nNah, nah"}
{"text":"\nOkay, I'm reloaded\nYou motherfuckers think you big time?\nFuckin' with Jay-Z, you gon' die, big time\nHere come ''The Pain''\nJigga (Jigga)\nBigga (Bigga)\nNigga, how you figure? (How you figure?)\nYeah, yeah, yeah\n\nA-yo, peep the style and the way the cops sweat us (Uh-huh)\nThe number one question is can the Feds get us? (Uh-huh)\nI got vendettas in dice games against ass bettors (Uh-huh)\nAnd niggas who pump wheels and drive Jettas\nTake that wit' ya!\n\nHit ya! Back-split ya! (Uh)\nFuck fist fights and lame scuffles (Uh!)\nPillow case to your face, make the shell muffle (Woo!)\nShoot your daughter in the calf muscle (Mmm-hmm)\nFuck a tussle, nickel-plated\nSprinkle coke on the floor, make it drug-related (Haha)\nMost hated\nYou might also like\nCan't fade it (Uh)\nWhile y'all pump, willie (What?), I run up and stunt silly (Uh-huh)\nScared, so you sent your little mans to come kill me (Uh)\nBut on the con-trilli, I packs the MAC-milli\nSqueezed off on him, left them paramedics breathin' soft on him\n\"What's ya name?\"\n\nWho shot ya? Mob ties like Sinatra (Uh)\nPeruvians tried to do me in (Word), I ain't paid them yet\nTryna' push 700's, they ain't made them yet\nRolex and bracelets is frostbit (Frostbit), rings too\nNiggas 'round the way call me Igloo, stick who!?\nMotherfucker!\n\nJAY-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga, shit ya drawers!\n(Where you from?) Brooklyn, goin' out for all!\n(Marcy) That's right, you don't stop!\n(Bed-Stuy) Uh-huh, you won't stop! (Nigga!)\nWhat, what, what?\n\nJAY-Z, Big Smalls, nigga, shit your drawers\nBrooklyn represent y'all, hit, you fold\nYou crazy, think your little bit of rhymes can play me?\nI'm from Marcy, I'm varsity, chump, you're JV\nJigga JAY-Z\nBiggie, baby (Uh)\nMy Bed-Stuy flow's malicious, delicious\nFuck three wishes, made my road to riches\nFrom 62's, Gemstars, my mom's dishes (Uh)\nGram choppin', police van dockin'\nD's at my doors knockin' (What?)\nKeep rockin', yeah!\nNo more Mr. Nice Guy, I twist ya shit\nThe fuck back with the pistols.. blazin'!\nHot like Cajun (Uh)\nHotter than even holdin' work at the Days Inn\nWith New York plates outside\nGet up out of there, fuck the ride!\nKeep your hands high, shit gets steeper (Uh)\nHere comes the Grim Reaper, Frank White\nNeed the keys to your InnKeeper (That's right)\nChill, homie, the bitch in the Shoney's told me\nYou're holdin' more drugs than a pharmacy\nYou ain't harmin' me, so pardon me\nPass the safe, before I blaze the place\nAnd here's six shots just in case\n(Brooklyn-lyn-lyn)\nJAY-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga, shit ya drawers!\n(Where you from?) Brooklyn goin' out to all!\n(Crown Heights, uh) You don't stop!\n(Brownsville) You won't stop! (Nigga!)\n(Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn, haha)\nJAY-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga, shit ya drawers!\n(Where we from?) Brooklyn goin' out to all\n(Bushwick) You don't stop!\n(Fort Greene) You won't stop! (Niggas)\nYeah, yeah, yeah\n\nFor '96, the only MC with a flu\nYeah, I rhyme sick, I be what you're tryin' to do\nMade a fortune off Peru, extradite, China White, heroin\nNigga, please, like short sleeves, I bear arms (Umm)\nStay out my way from here on (Clear?) Gone! (Uh)\nMe and Gutta had two spots\nThe two-for-five dollar hits, the blue tops (Uh-huh)\nGotta go, Coolio mean it's gettin' too hot\nIf Faith have twins, she'd probably have two Pacs (uh, uh)\nGet it? (uh) 2 Pac's?\nTime to separate the pros from the cons\n(And the..) The platinum from the bronze\nThat butter-soft shit from that leather on the Fonz (Uh)\nA S1 diamond from a I class don\nA Chandon sipper from a Ros\u00e9 nigga, Huh?\nBrook-Nam, sippin' on\nCristal forever, play the crib when it's mink weather (Uh)\nThe M.A.F.I.A. keep cannons in they Marc Buchanan's (Uh)\nUsually cuatro cinco, the shell sink slow\nTossin' ya, mad slugs through your Nautica\nI'm warnin' ya! (Ha, what the fuck?)\n\nJAY-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga, shit ya drawers!\n(Where you from?) Brooklyn goin' out to all!\n(Flatbush) You don't stop!\n(Red Hook) That's right, you won't stop! (Nigga!) Hahaha!\n(Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn)\nJAY-Z and Biggie Smalls, nigga shit your drawers!\n(Where you from?) Brooklyn goin' out to all!\n(East New York) You don't stop!\n(Clinton Hill, uh-huh) You won't stop! (Nigga!)\n(Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn, Brooklyn)\nIs Brooklyn in the house?\n\nUh, Roc-A-Fella, y'all\nJunior M.A.F.I.A\nSupermen clique\nBrooklyn's Finest, you rewind this\nRepresentin' BK to the fullest"}
{"text":"Call it how it is (Call it how it is)\nHendrix\nI promise, I swear, I swear\nYou heard, spit it, yo\n\nPercocets (Ya), molly, Percocets (Percocets)\nPercocets (Ya), molly, Percocets (Percocets)\nRep the set (Yee), gotta rep the set (Gang, gang)\nChase a check (Chase it), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches)\nMask on (Off), fuck it, mask off (Mask)\nMask on (Off), fuck it, mask off (Mask)\nPercocets ('Cets), molly, Percocets (Percocets)\nChase a check (Chase it), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches)\n\nTwo cups (Cup), toast up with the gang (Gang, gang)\nFrom food stamps to a whole 'nother domain, ya\nOut the bottom (Ye), I'm the livin' proof (Super)\nAin't compromisin' (Woah), half a million on the coupe (Gang, gang)\nDrug houses (where), lookin' like Peru (Woah, woah, woah)\nGraduated (Crazy), I was overdue (I'm on due)\nPink molly (Molly), I can barely move (Barely move)\nAsk about me ('Bout me), I'm gon' bust a move\nRick James (James), thirty-three chains (Thirty-three)\nOcean air (Air), cruisin' Biscayne\nTop off (Ya), that\u2019s a liability (Big foreigns)\nHit the gas (Gas), boostin' my adrenaline (Big foreigns)\nYou might also like\nPercocets (Ye), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nPercocets (Ye), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nRep the set (Ye), gotta rep the set (Gang, gang)\nChase a check (Chase it) (Ye), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches) (Big foreigns)\nMask on (Off) (Ye), fuck it, mask off (Mask) (Big foreigns)\nMask on (Off) (Ye), fuck it, mask off (Mask) (Big foreigns)\nPercocets (Ye), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nChase a check (Chase it) (Ye, ye), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches)\n\nFord or Maybach (Ford or), I drive anything (Ye)\nBuy my Range (Ye), make 'em go insane (Ye)\n(Oh my Lord, praise him be)\nMy guillotine, drank promethazine (Drank prometh')\nTEC and beams (Ya), go to those extremes (Let's go, let's go)\nParliament (Parliament), calamari Wednesday (Ya)\nParlay in Vegas, we was in attendance (What's good, what's good)\nBefore the business (Yeah), Theodore lenses\nTheo-Dur prescriptions (Ya), focus on the missions (Fo' my)\nIntermission (Hol' up), never take a break (We can pull up)\nSwitch states, touch down, foreign plates (Speech)\nAin't no way, ain't no fuckin' way (No)\nWe call the play, we didn't come to play (No)\nRob the bank, we gon' rob the game (Gang)\nThey gang, we gang (Gang)\nBut they are not the same (Freebandz)\nPercocets (Ye), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nPercocets (Ye), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nRep the set (Ye), gotta rep the set (Gang, gang)\nChase a check (Chase it) (Ye), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches) (Big foreigns)\nMask on (Off) (Ye), fuck it, mask off (Mask) (Big foreigns)\nMask on (Off) (Ye), fuck it, mask off (Mask) (Big foreigns)\nPercocets (Ye), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nChase a check (Chase it) (Ye, ye), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches)\n\nMask on, fuck it, mask off\nMask on, fuck it, mask off\nMask on, fuck it, mask off\nGas gone, never nod off\n(Cold chills, prison cells)\n(Oh my Lord, praise him be)"}
{"text":"High, high, get, get, gettin' high, everybody gettin' high\nGet, get, get, gettin' high, you're unbelievably high\n\nI just took some molly, what else? (Hey)\nGot some bitch from Follies with us ('Scuse me, 'scuse me)\nShe gon' fuck the squad, what else? (I swear)\nI'ma fuck her broads, what else? (Yeah, yeah!)\nBitch from Pakistan, what up? ('Rari!)\nFerraris and them Lambs, what else? (Skrrt, skrrt!)\n'Bout to fuck this club up, what else? (Yeah, yeah!)\n\n(Metro Boomin want some more, nigga!) (Turn up)\n\nI turn the Ritz into a poor house (Turn up)\nIt's like eviction number four now (Woo)\nGo 'head and ash it on the floor now (Swear)\nGirl, go 'head and show me how you go down\nAnd I feel my whole body peakin' (Yeah)\nAnd I'm fuckin' anybody with they legs wide (Racks)\nGettin' faded with some bitches from the West Side (Woo)\nEast coast nigga reppin' North Side, never waste a ho's time (Freebandz)\nBitch, I'm on my own time, fuck a nigga co-sign (Woo)\nAlways change my number and my phone line (And my, and my)\nBaby girl, I don't lie, used to have no money for a crib (Turn up)\nNow my room service bill cost your whole life (Ayy)\nIf they try to stunt me, I go all out military (Turn up)\nI'm camo'd all out, like I'm in the military (Turn up)\nAnd free up all my niggas locked up in the penitenti' (Swear)\n'Cause I'm always reppin' for that low life\nYou might also like\nReppin' for that low life (Turn up), low life, low life\nLow life, know I'm reppin' for that low\nLow life (Representin'), yeah (I'm representin')\nSaid I'm reppin' for that low life (Representin')\nLow life, low life, low life, low life (I'm representin' for that low life)\nSaid I'm repping for that low life (I'm reppin', that's reppin', I'm reppin')\nLow life, low life, low life (Rep, rep, rep, rep, rep, rep, rep, woo, woo, woo, woo)\nYeah\nWake up, take a sip of Ace of Spade like it's water\nI been on the molly and them Xans with your daughter\nIf she catch me cheating, I won't ever tell her, \"sorry\"\nIf she catch me cheating, I will never tell her, \"sorry\"\nPorsches in the valet, I got Bentleys, I got 'Raris\nTaking pain pills on the plane, gettin' chartered\nPoppin' tags on tags, I was starvin'\nBitch, I got the juice and the carbine\nTurn a five star hotel to a traphouse\nRoaches everywhere, like we forgot to take the trash out\nFlood my cross with ice, gettin' money my religion\nGot my baby momma and my side bitch kissin'\nI turn the Ritz into a lean house\nThis the sixth time gettin' kicked out\nI can't feel my face, I'm on Adderall, nauseous\nNiggas tryna ride my fuckin' wave, now they salty\nRunnin' with the wave, get you killed quick\nShoot you in your back like you Ricky\nLi'l Mexico, with no life to afterlife\nMy whole life, my whole life\n'Cause I'm always reppin' for that low life (Wait), low life, low life\nLow life, know I'm reppin' for that low\nLow life (Representin'), yeah (I'm representin')\nSaid I'm reppin' for that low life (Representin', wait)\nLow life, low life, low life, low life (I'm representin' for that low life, for the low life)\nSaid I'm repping for that low life (For the low life, I'm reppin' for the low life)\nLow life, low life, low life (Wait, wait, low life)\nYeah\n\nYeah, they stereotypin'\n'Cause they know a nigga keep ten rifles (Ten rifles)\nAnd they know a nigga keep ten snipers (Ten snipers)\nKeepin' baby bottles like we wearin' diapers\nYeah, they stereotypin'\n'Cause they know a nigga keep twenty rifles\nAnd they know a nigga keep twenty snipers\nAnd they know a nigga keep ten wifeys (Ha-ha-ha!)\n\nSniper, sniper, sniper, sniper, sniper\nWifey, wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey\nThat's your wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey?\nI think I like her, like her, like her, like her\nThat's your wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey?\nI think I like her, like her, like her, like her\nOh, that's your wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey?\nI think I like her, like her, like her, like her, ha\nGetting high, getting high, getting high, everybody getting high\nGetting high, getting high, getting high, everybody getting high\nGetting high, getting high, getting high, everybody getting high\nGetting high, getting high, getting high, and I'm the reason why\nI just took some molly, what else? (Getting high, getting high, getting high, everybody getting high)\nGot some bitch from Follies with us (Getting high, getting high, getting high, everybody getting high)\nShe gon' fuck the squad, what else? (Getting high, getting high, getting high, everybody getting high)\nI'ma fuck her broads, what else? (Getting high, getting high, getting high, and I'm the reason why)\nBitch from Pakistan, what up?\nFerraris and them Lambs, what else?\n'Bout to fuck this club up, what else?\n\nWe 'bout to fuck this club up, what else?"}
{"text":"\nWorkin' on a weekend like usual\nWay off in the deep end like usual\nNiggas swear they\u2005passed\u2005us, they doin'\u2005too much\nHaven't done my taxes, I'm\u2005too turnt up\nVirgil got a Patek on my wrist goin' nuts\nNiggas caught me slippin' once, okay, so what?\nSomeone hit your block up, I'd tell you if it was us\nManor house in Rosewood, this shit too plush\n\nSay my days are numbered, but I keep wakin' up\nKnow you see my texts, baby, please say some'\nWine by the glass, your man a cheapskate, huh?\nNiggas gotta move off my release day, huh\nBitch, this is fame, not clout\nI don't even know what that's about, watch your mouth\nBaby got a ego twice the size of the crib\nI can never tell her shit, it is what it is (What)\nSaid what I had to and did what I did (Ayy)\nNever turn my back on FBG, God forbid\nVirgil got the Patek on my wrist doin' front flips\nGivin' you my number, but don't hit me on no dumb shit\nYou might also like\nWorkin' on a weekend like usual\nWay off in the deep end like usual (Like usual)\nNiggas swear they passed us, they doin' too much\nHaven't done my taxes, I'm too turnt up\nVirgil got a Patek on my wrist goin' nuts\nNiggas caught me slippin' once, okay, so what?\nSomeone hit your block up, I'd tell you if it was us\nManor house in Rosewood, this shit too plush\n\nIt's cool, man, got red bottoms on\nLife is good, you know what I mean? Like\n\n\nYeah, hunnid thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, woo\nI done flew one out to Spain to be in my domain and Audemars-ed the bitch, woo\nDropped three dollars on a ring, cost a Bentley truck, lil' bitch, woo\nI was in the trap servin' cocaine, I ain't been the same since, woo\n\nGranny, she was standin' right there while I catch a play on a brick, woo\nI make them lil' niggas go haywire, Taliban in this bitch, woo\nI done been down bad in them trenches, had to ride with that stick, woo\nWho gave you pills? Who gave you that dust? Pluto sent you on a lick, woo\nToo many convicts that roll with me to play in this shit, woo\nI'm tryna avoid nonsense, get Osama spray in this bitch, woo\nThey at the candlelight lightin' it up, nigga, anybody can get it, woo\nI'm on a PJ lightin' it up, Backwood full of sticky, woo\nI'm tryna tote that Draco in London and it's extended, woo\nThey gotta stretch a nigga out, we gon' die for this shit, woo\nYeah, I ride for my niggas, I lie to my bitch, woo\nWe some poor, high-class niggas, made it, we rich, yeah\nI was at the bando, got a penthouse for a closet, woo\nIt's like a chandelier on my neck, my wrist, woo\nI got pink toes that talk different languages, woo\nGot Promethazine in my blood and Percocet, yeah\nHunnid thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, woo\nI done flew one out to Spain to be in my domain and Audemars-ed the bitch, woo\nDropped three dollars on a ring, cost a Bentley truck, lil' bitch, woo\nI was in the trap servin' cocaine, I ain't been the same since\n\nRacks by the ton, I call up Serena\nI go tremendo for new fettuccine\nAll fact though, carat the pinky\nAll fact though, we ordered the Fiji\nI'm in the loop with the voo, I'm in the loop with the woo, which one you workin'?\nI'll put your face on the news, I'll put the pussy on the shirt after I murk it\nThen make 'em go shoot up the hearse, cost me a quarter bird, nigga, it's worth it\nAnd you a maniac, a fuckin' alien, how you splurgin'?\nGot that kitty cat, I'm havin' fun with that, goin' Birkin\n\nYeah, hunnid thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, woo\nI done flew one out to Spain to be in my domain and Audemars-ed the bitch, woo\nDropped three dollars on a ring, cost a Bentley truck, lil' bitch, woo\nI was in the trap servin' cocaine, I ain't been the same since, woo\n\nHunnid thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch\nHunnid thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, yeah\nHunnid thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, uh\nHunnid thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch"}
{"text":"Dress it up and make it real for me\nHahaha\nWhatever that fuckin' mean\n(808 Mafia)\n\nDirty soda in a Styrofoam (Yee)\nSpend a day to get my mind blown (Mind blown)\nDress it up and go to NASA (Yeah)\nTwo hundred miles on the dash (Woo)\nGotta roll a pound up and gas it (Swear)\nSwitchin' lanes in a Grand Rapid (Switch)\nWe the ones that kept it cool with all these niggas\n'Til these niggas started actin' (We did it)\nShoot a nigga like a film, made a movie\nNigga, go'n let 'em have it (We did)\nWe ballin' like the March Madness (Yeah)\nAll these cops shootin' a nigga, tragic (Boom)\nI'm the one that's livin' lavish (I'm the one)\nLike I'm playin' for the Mavericks (Ballin')\nI didn't wanna fuck the bitch (Woo)\nThe molly made me fuck her even though she average\n\nDirty muddy in the cup (Cup)\nThe .45 by my gut\nMy young nigga in the cut (Swear)\nTake you out for some Jordans (Pluto)\nLet's count this money, no rushin' (Freebandz)\nI'm on a one way flushin' (Flushin')\nLoud pack smellin' musty (Musty)\nThese fuckin' police can't touch me (Nah)\nThese bogus police can't touch me (Nah)\nThese fuckin' niggas can't touch me (Freeband Gang)\nApply the pressure with the VVS (Yeah, yeah)\nI drive the foreign like it was a Chevy (Woo)\nDrive the foreign like it was a Chevy (Skrrt)\nLift it up and go'n and offset it (Pluto)\nFuck a cougar like she Halle Berry (Pluto)\nFuture Hendrix, Dirty Sprite, legendary (Dirty Sprite)\nYou might also like\nDirty soda in a Styrofoam (Yee)\nSpend a day to get my mind blown (Mind blown)\nDress it up and go to NASA (Yeah)\nTwo hundred miles on the dash (Woo)\nGotta roll a pound up and gas it (Swear)\nSwitchin' lanes in a Grand Rapid (Switch)\nWe the ones that kept it cool with all these niggas\n'Til these niggas started actin' (We did it)\nShoot a nigga like a film, made a movie\nNigga, go'n let 'em have it (We did)\nWe ballin' like the March Madness (Yeah)\nAll these cops shootin' a nigga, tragic (Boom)\nI'm the one that's livin' lavish (I'm the one)\nLike I'm playin' for the Mavericks (Ballin')\nI didn't wanna fuck the bitch (Woo)\nThe molly made me fuck her even though she average\n\nFuck on a basic bitch\nWe gon' wake up and smoke us a blunt and fuck\nShe gon' keep it so real with a nigga that\nI'ma come back and always gon' fuck with her\nBend the curve in a Spur like a MARTA bus\nI was workin' and servin' in Nautica (Yeah)\nI get high 'til I'm higher than Mercury (High)\nFuck around, teach you that recipe (Yeah, yeah)\nFuck around, you gon' be out of here (Out of here)\nMake her say, \"Huh,\" like a nigga was Juvie\nSoon as that work hit the city, we move it\nPost up in Onyx and shoot us a movie\nPost up in Onyx and shoot us a movie (Movie)\nTake the tool inside the club and just in case a nigga ever gotta use it (Future)\nGet a pint of codeine, pour it up, nigga (Pour it up, nigga)\nDirty soda in a Styrofoam (Yee)\nSpend a day to get my mind blown (Mind blown)\nDress it up and go to NASA (Yeah)\nTwo hundred miles on the dash (Woo)\nGotta roll a pound up and gas it (Swear)\nSwitchin' lanes in a Grand Rapid (Switch)\nWe the ones that kept it cool with all these niggas\n'Til these niggas started actin' (We did it)\nShoot a nigga like a film, made a movie\nNigga, go'n let 'em have it (We did)\nWe ballin' like the March Madness (Yeah)\nAll these cops shootin' a nigga, tragic (Boom)\nI'm the one that's livin' lavish (I'm the one)\nLike I'm playin' for the Mavericks (Ballin')\nI didn't wanna fuck the bitch (Woo)\nThe molly made me fuck her even though she average\n\nThese bogus police can't touch me\nThese fuckin' niggas can't touch me\nApply the pressure with the VVS\nI drive the foreign like it was a Chevy\nDrive the foreign like it was a Chevy\nLift it up and go'n and offset it\nFuck a cougar like she Halle Berry\nFuture Hendrix, Dirty Sprite, legendary\nDirty soda in a Styrofoam (Yee)\nSpend a day to get my mind blown (Mind blown)\nDress it up and go to NASA (Yeah)\nTwo hundred miles on the dash (Woo)\nGotta roll a pound up and gas it (Swear)\nSwitchin' lanes in a Grand Rapid (Switch)\nWe the ones that kept it cool with all these niggas\n'Til these niggas started actin' (We did it)\nShoot a nigga like a film, made a movie\nNigga, go'n let 'em have it (We did)\nWe ballin' like the March Madness (Yeah)\nAll these cops shootin' a nigga, tragic (Boom)\nI'm the one that's livin' lavish (I'm the one)\nLike I'm playin' for the Mavericks (Ballin')\nI didn't wanna fuck the bitch (Woo)\nThe molly made me fuck her even though she average"}
{"text":"High Klassified \u306a\u97f3\u697d\nI got the jewels flooded from Ben, baby!\n\nLike a nigga don't dance, but he make moves\nThey fuck around, now a nigga gotta shame you\nI'm shameless, I be rockin' all my chains too\nThey told me, \"Boy I think the money's startin' to change you\"\nLord save you, Lord save you\n'Member runnin' through the city in the same shoes\nNow I'm gunnin' in the Benz and the Range too\nI'm on point, know a nigga never take two\nThey said I couldn't reach Mars, so I turned to a star\nNow I might have fucked around, might have raised up the bar\nNow I'm talkin' cash, talk cash all in my palm\nMy nigga Cash said, \"Watch what they do for the ones\"\nI know she wanna be poppin' all over the 'Gram\nWhen the cameras come out, wanna hold my hand\nMust be out of your mind, do you know who I am?\nMan, you're killin' my vibe, do you know who I am?\nOh, yeah\n\nThey take my kindness for weakness\nStill comin' out strong\nStill comin' out strong\nStill comin' out strong\nTake my kindness for weakness\nStill comin' out strong\nStill comin' out strong\nStill comin' out..\nYou might also like\nI might end up with your ho if I take one (Still comin')\nNow days if they don't have a story, they gon' make one (Still comin')\nLast night I gave my heart to a fake one (Still comin')\nI done end up on the blogs with the wrong one (Still comin')\nIt's hard to tell the real stories from the fake ones (Yeah, comin')\n'Cause now days if they don't got it they'll make one (Still comin')\nThe only time I feel alive when I take (Still comin')\nI wanna vent but I know it ain't safe (Still comin')\nMust be out of your mind, do you know who I am? (Do you know who I am?)\nUsed to hit it from behind, do you know who I am? (Never say my name)\nI can't give you all my time, do you know who I am? (Give you my t-)\nMake you fall in love tonight, must don't know who I am, I am\nI showed you a million, no videos (No videos)\nI opened up Bentley doors, I invented doors (I invented)\nBodies droppin' and we duckin' the law\nIf you the one to take the blame, you can't say what you saw, no\n\nThey take my kindness for weakness\nStill comin' out strong (Yeah, comin')\nStill comin' out strong (Yeah, comin')\nStill comin' out strong\nTake my kindness for weakness\nStill comin' out strong (Yeah, comin')\nStill comin' out strong (Still comin')\nStill comin' out..\nPluto don't dance, but I make moves (Keep comin')\nWe fucked around, now a nigga gotta shame you (Keep comin')\nShameless, I've been rockin' all my chains too (Keep comin')\nTold me, \"Boy I think the money startin' to change you\"\nLord save you, Lord save you\nThey might pick you up, just throw you down with the fall\nYou must not know who I am\nYou must not know who I am\nI pour champagne on the ground\nI pour champagne on the ground\nMy brother Casino said you wasn't Freebandz (Freebandz)\nAnd at the time I couldn't see what he was sayin' (He was sayin')\nYou turned your back, I should have never gave you chances (Gave you chances)\nI call for loyalty, she didn't ever answer\nI'm a boss, I'ma make my own family (La familia)\nYou're with my ex, while I'm with different color candies\n(So familiar)\nI got Jenny, I got Tammy, I got Sandy\nYou try to sneak and leave 'em then I leave you stranded\nBe honest to me\n\nThey take my kindness for weakness\nStill comin' out strong\nStill comin' out strong\nStill comin' out strong (Be honest to me)\nTake my kindness for weakness\nStill comin' out strong\nStill comin' out strong\nStill comin' out...\nKindness, she lie\nStill comin', lie\nBoss, fuck around, boss\nKindness\nDown, like a nigga, she lie\nKindness, she lie\nKindness, oh"}
{"text":"I don't wanna hear all that, I don't wanna hear none of that\nTalkin' commas, how much you need and all that shit\nFuck that shit, I don't remember none of that shit\n\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when niggas wouldn't feed me?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when bitches didn't need me?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when niggas tried to run off?\nWhere your ass was at, dog? You made me pull this gun out\n\nWhere your ass was at, dog, you went and switched sides?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when niggas spread lies on him?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when the bodies came sliding?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when I was serving pies?\n\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when niggas wouldn't feed me?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when bitches didn't need me?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when niggas tried to run off?\nWhere your ass was at, dog? You made me pull this gun out\n\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when I was in the Pyrex?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when I was drinking Hi-Tech?\nWhere your ass was at, dog? You came through the projects\nWhere your ass at? We keep that fully loaded contracts\nHad her rain dance on the dick, ass jumping\nRunning through the pussy like a nigga going jogging\nFuck a little Louis, put it in a bitch pocket\nPut a pic with me on the 'gram, now you popping\nWhere your ass was at when I was trapping in the store?\nHad to struggle to get where I'm at and sell dope\nJackie Chan moves got game in the choke\nGas rolling up in the blunt, Amoco\n12 tryin' come in the spot to open up the dope\nBurglar bar doors got a young nigga confident\nJuugin' out the stove and we still bangin', honest\nBlowing on the O, yo, we call that ho an onion\nYou might also like\nMan, where your ass was at when we took the city over?\nWhere your ass was at when all they'd ask was \"What's the hold up?\"\nWhere your ass was at when niggas first got the news?\nNow your ass around because we're paying back dues\nWhere were you when all the dogs needed help?\nLawyers and the commissary ain't gon' pay itself\nWhere your ass was at when we recorded in the bathroom?\nWhere your ass was at? I take attendance like a classroom\nMan I ain't got no choice\n'Cause nowadays I swear this shit done changed up for the boy\nI'm self-made, selfish with my women, self-employed\nI'll buy the neighbor's house if they complain about the noise\nMan, where your ass was at, dog, when niggas wouldn't feed me?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when bitches didn't need me?\nWhere your ass was at? Last winter was the coldest\nFuck where you was at, I had the 6 on my shoulders\n\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when niggas wouldn't feed me?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when bitches didn't need me?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when niggas tried to run off?\nWhere your ass was at, dog? You made me pull this gun out\n\n60 for a walk through, bitch don't panic (Woo, walk, Fu\u2014)\nHad them bitches fall through fucking like a savage (Fall, savage)\nHeard you tryna swim in the ocean no jacket (Swim, nigga, ha, ha)\nHeard that nigga came through squeezing on a ratchet (Slatt)\nHeard that nigga came through squeezing on a ratchet\nServe a lot of dog food, call you a mutt (Dog, Freeband\u2014)\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when I was on my come-up? (At, come-up)\nThe reason I'm here today 'cause I ain't never gave up\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when niggas wouldn't feed me?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when bitches didn't need me?\nWhere your ass was at, dog, when niggas tried to run off?\nWhere your ass was at, dog? You made me pull this gun out\n\nWhere you ass was at when I was trapping in the store?\nHad to struggle to get where I'm at and sell dope\nJuugin' out the stove and we still bangin', honest\nBlowing on the O, yo, we call that ho an onion"}
{"text":"Codeine crazy\nYeah (8-8-8-8-808 Mafia)\nPourin' bubbly, pourin' bubbly\nPour that bubbly, pour that bubbly\nPour that bubbly\nWe done went through too much, you hear me?\n(8-8-8-8-808 Mafia)\n\nPour that bubbly\nDrink that muddy, drink is muddy when we covered in it\nYeah, I'm covered in it\nI was thuggin' it, I was just loving lit\nThat's for them other niggas, that's for the other bitches\nThat ain't for you, dawg, that's for them other niggas\nThat ain't for you, shawty, that's for that other bitch\nI'm going crazy 'bout it, I'm going codeine crazy\nThat's how I'm living it, I'm feeling lovely\nI'm drinking bubbly\nI'm drinking bubbly (Yeah)\n\nTake all my problems and drink out the bottle and fuck on a model, yeah\nAudemars, this not a carnival, this is a Royal Oak Cartier\nDom Perignon, I get down from a brown, I get chauffeured around\nI pour up with my rounds, I pour up out of town\nI corrupted your town with them guns and them pounds\nI grew up on the grounds with them dealers and hounds\nWe order more bottles and fuck on more models and pass 'em around\nI say everything triple time\nRollie, AP, Hublot, triple time\nI just know the ones you call upon\nI just had to pay my dawg a bond\nLooking at me like a triple threat\nEvery time a nigga talk, a check\nSmoke the kush up like a cigarette\nRun it back, you hear my intellect (8-8-8-8-808 Mafia)\nYou might also like\nCelebrating like the championship\nCelebrating like the championship\nCelebrate like the championship\nCelebrate like the championship\nI told you, I told you, I told you, I told you\nHahah, celebrate\n\nDon't tell me you celibate to the mula\nI just went Rick the Ruler with the jeweler\nI just went St. Tropez-in' like a goonie\nAbu Dhabi, nigga straight out the sewer\nLike a loaded chopper, I'm 'bout to shoot it\nI'm so fucking sick and tired of these rumors\nI just dived inside a cutie, we spoonin'\nTake it back and take a look at yourself\nTake the lesson, put it all in the air\nToo many days gone by\nSittin' by the phone, waitin' 'til I reply\nDrying my eyes, believe it or not\nI could never see a tear fallin'\nWater drippin' on me like a faucet\nI just took a bitch to eat at Chipotle\nSpent another sixty thousand on a Rollie\nAll my diamonds got you brainwashed\nShe sucked my dick, it got my brain washed\nAnd for that shit, you got your man popped\nSee what they did to Biggie and Pac\nPour a lil', lil' liquor out, pour a lil' more liquor out\nPour it out, pour it out, pour it out\nCodeine crazy, codeine crazy\nCodeine crazy, codeine crazy\nCodeine crazy, codeine crazy\nAll this motherfucking money got me codeine crazy\n\nDrownin' in Actavis, suicide\nWhen I hit the scene, it's homicide\nDiamond pinky ring a lollipop\nFuck the hate, I pull up in a drop\nDiamonds colder than a glacier\nBallin' harder than the Pacers\nI been tryin' to have some patience\nTold my mama she should pray on it\nTold the streets they gotta wait on it\nShe gon' put a nigga name on it\nI just dropped a whole thang on it\nI'm making USD's overseas\nThat's U.S. dollars that you can't achieve\nFucked my white girl, she said, \"Nigga, please\"\nFuck that white girl, she said, \"Nigga, please\"\nPlayin' poker, now we're back in Stroker\nI forgot her name but her pussy soakin'\nWhen I seen her on the pole\nReminded myself when I used to come over\nReminded myself when I used to get loaded\nRemindin' myself that I'm still gettin' loaded\nThe coupe fully loaded, this whip fully loaded\nThis whip fully loaded, the clip fully loaded\nI try to control it\nLet's wrap up some bottles, let's pop off some bottles, these niggas too bogus\nLet's pour up a pint, I'ma fuck around, faint like I'm Kid Cudi, probably\nI fuck around, faint, I'ma fall on the drank\nRockin' Tom Ford, poppin' mollies\nMarried to this motherfuckin' money\nCodeine crazy, codeine crazy\nCodeine crazy, codeine crazy\nCodeine crazy, codeine crazy\nAll this motherfucking money got me codeine crazy\n\nYou thought I forgot about us?\nI know that you know I don't fold under pressure\nI'm back on the road, I get low on the pedal\nWe live by the codes of the ghetto\nI'm closing this out with my memo\nI'm treating this shit like a demo\nI'm putting my heart and my soul in this shit and some more\nI'm in that Dolce Gabbana\nI might get after Madonna\nI get it crack in the summer\nStrapped in the 'Lac and the Hummer\nFronted a pack to my partner\nAll this lingo got her panties to dropping\nFuck the fame, I'm sipping lean when I'm driving\nAll this cash and it ain't nowhere to hide it\nI'm an addict and I can't even hide it\nDon't you panic, panoramic companion\nThey was tryna serve me at the arraignment\nNever comment on it, never complaining\nI'm taking everything that come with these millions\nI'm taking everything that come with my children\nYeah, yeah\n\nPour that bubbly\nDrink that muddy, drink is muddy when we covered in it\nYeah, I'm covered in it\nI was thuggin' it, I was just loving lit\nThat's for them other niggas, that's for the other bitches\nThat ain't for you, dawg, that's for them other niggas\nThat ain't for you, shawty, that's for that other bitch\nI'm going crazy 'bout it, I'm going codeine crazy\nThat's how I'm living it, I'm feeling lovely\nI'm drinking bubbly\n\nCodeine crazy, codeine crazy\nAll this motherfucking money got me codeine crazy"}
{"text":"Fake nigga lie to a real nigga\nNow that's some shit that you don't do\nI'ma stay real for my real niggas\nNow that's some shit that I'm gon' do\nFuck up the commas, let's fuck up some commas, nigga\nLet's fuck up some commas, let's do that shit random\nYeah, Future, Future Hendrix, it's some shit you don't do\nCut it up\n\nFuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nLet's fuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nForty thou' to a hundred thou'\nHundred thou', another hundred thou'\nThree hundred thou' to five hundred thousand\nA million, let's have a money shower\nFuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nLet's fuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nForty thou' to a hundred thou'\nA hundred thou', another hundred thou'\nThree hundred thou' to five hundred thousand\nA million, let's have a money shower\nYou might also like\nFuck up the llama, I'm hot like a sauna, yeah\nThe burner is on me, can't play with that money, yeah\nI'm fucking with shorty, I'm loving the way that she fucking me, yeah\nGive no fucks, yeah, we don't give no fucks, yeah\nThrow my cup, yeah, I just bought my plug, yeah\nFull of the mud, yeah, nigga get full of them drugs, yeah\nFeeling real right, yeah, I'm on same thing as Mike, yeah\nBought a lil' ice, yeah, I wanna beat that dope like Ike, yeah\n\nFuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nLet's fuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nForty thou' to a hundred thou'\nHundred thou', another hundred thou'\nThree hundred thou' to five hundred thousand\nA million, let's have a money shower\nFuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nLet's fuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nForty thou' to a hundred thou'\nHundred thou', another hundred thou'\nThree hundred thou' to five hundred thousand\nA million, let's have a money shower\nSmoke the first forty-eight hours, grind 22 and sleep two hours\nPut 24s on the new Audi, white on white like baby powder\nDrop ya' bitch off at Fulton County, might count it up and then re-count it\nDouble cups like Tunechi, yeah, bust it down with these goonies, yeah\nGive no fucks, yeah, we don't give no fucks, yeah\nGo fill my cup, yeah, bitch, go fill my cup, yeah\nYou heard that the slums made me, I'm cool with the Konvicts\nThe coupe look like Akon, fuck all that bum shit\n\nFuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nLet's fuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nForty thou' to a hundred thou'\nHundred thou', another hundred thou'\nThree hundred thou' to five hundred thousand\nA million, let's have a money shower\n\nFit it, critic, get it, hit it, run it, drill it, wet it, I'm in it, really\nSplit it, fifty-fifty, ball, Reggie, ready, set, go\nThrow that money in the air, watch it fall to the floor\nHeard ya ordered up C\u00eeroc, need to order up some more\nAudemar, yeah, eighty on the watch, yeah\nKaty Perry, yeah, servin' Katy Perry, yeah\nI should ball, yeah, I should break you off, yeah\nBreak you off, yeah, made myself a boss, yeah\nLet's fuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nLet's fuck up some commas\nLet's fuck up some commas, yeah\nForty thou' to a hundred thou'\nHundred thou', another hundred thou'\nThree hundred thou' to five hundred thousand\nA million, let's have a money shower\n\nGive no fucks, yeah, we don't give no fucks, yeah\nGive no fucks, yeah, we don't give no fucks, yeah\nForty thou' to a hundred thou'\nA hundred thou', another hundred thou'\nThree hundred thou' to five hundred thousand\nA million, let's have a money shower\n\nLet's have a money shower right now, oh\nLet's have a money shower right now, oh\nLet's have a money shower right now, let's go\nLet's have a money shower right now, let's go\nLet's have a money shower, oh, oh, oh, oh\nForty thou' to a hunnid thou' to a hunnid thou' to a hunnid thou'\nA million, Hendrix"}
{"text":"Uh, WIZRD\nDirty soda, Spike Lee\nWhite girl, Ice T\nFully loaded AP, yeah\n\nI just fucked your bitch in some Gucci flip flops\nI just had some bitches and I made 'em lip lock\nI just took a piss and I seen codeine coming out\nWe got purple Actavis, I thought it was a drought\n\nBitch, I'ma choose the dirty over you\nYou know I ain't scared to lose you\nThey don't like it when you're telling the truth\nI'd rather be realer than you\nI had to make me a cot\nNow I called a contractor to make me a spot\nI sold the dope out your house\nNow you come to my house, I've got dope in the couch\nYou know I don't fuck with no rumors\nRocking red bottoms like they Pumas\nGot these meds on me, I'ma do 'em\nI take these pills and I'm having a thrill\nTaking prescription's a hell of a feeling\nAs for the xanny, I never forgot it\nGot 'em begging to call up my phone tryna have a menage\nGotta put up the cash, can't even stay in the house\nCause there\u2019s too much to hide\nWhip the four to a nine, gotta pay up the rent, I was too far behind\nFuck I'm too out of time, fuck 'em two at a time\nHad to do what I had to do to get where I'm at, niggas know I ain't lying\nNiggas know I ain't lying\nIt's a lot on my mind, it's a lot on my plate\nBut I never complain\nI was working the weight like I came out the gym\nI never did train\nPut the girl on a train\nStrapped a bird on her back, now she came back with change, ayy\nYou might also like\nI just fucked your bitch in some Gucci flip flops\nI just had some bitches and I made 'em lip lock\nI just took a piss and I seen codeine coming out\nWe got purple Actavis, I thought it was a drought\nI just fucked your bitch in some Gucci flip flops\nI just had some bitches and I made 'em lip lock\nI just took a piss and I seen codeine coming out\nWe got purple Actavis, I thought it was a drought\n\nI strapped the dope to your spouse\nThe first time I gave her an ounce\nI put some free bands in her account\nI told her, \"Bitch, can't be running your mouth\nBetter watch what you say to these niggas\nCause you already know what they 'bout\"\nPut the game in a choke in a knot\nHit that bitch while I'm choking her out\nPut that hook on her, now she got love in the south\nI got some purp on me now\nStacking these styrofoams up by the double\nThey done let me back in, now they know they in trouble\nValet the whip by the front door\nOn a percocet now and I need me some more\nTell me them lies that you want me to hear\nI try to forget, but it's hard to forgive\nTake me some codeine and pop me a pill\nI pull on a blunt and blow smoke out my ears\nI smoke on this blunt, I get high as I can\nI float off the Earth in designer\nI\u2019m working on having some manners\nI\u2019m thinking about it right now\nI\u2019m holding the cash while I pour up the lean\nThen I put one in the air\nI just fucked your bitch in some Gucci flip flops\nI just had some bitches and I made 'em lip lock\nI just took a piss and I seen codeine coming out\nWe got purple Actavis, I thought it was a drought\nI just fucked your bitch in some Gucci flip flops\nI just had some bitches and I made 'em lip lock\nI just took a piss and I seen codeine coming out\nWe got purple Actavis, I thought it was a drought\n\nThought it was a drought, thought it, thought it was a drought\nWe thought it was a drought, we poured an Actavis\nBitch, I'ma choose the dirty over you\nYou know I ain't scared to lose you\nThey don't like it when you're telling the truth\nI'd rather be realer than you\n(Young Metro, Young Metro, Young Metro\nYoung Metro, Young Metro, Young Metro\nYoung Metro, Young Metro, Young Metro\nYoung Metro, Young Metro, Young Metro\nYoung Metro, Young Metro, Young Metro)"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsI Won Lyrics\n\nI just want to take you out and show you off\nYou already know that you the perfect one\nGirl when I'm with you, feel like a champion\nEver since I got with you I feel like I done won me a trophy\nA trophy, I won me a trophy\nI won, I won, I won a trophy\nI just want to take you out and show you off\nYou already know that you the perfect one\nGirl when I'm with you, feel like a champion\nEver since I got with you I feel like I done won me a trophy\nTrophy, I won me a trophy\nA trophy, I won me a trophy\nTrophy, I won me a trophy\nA trophy\n\nGet to fuckin' on the dresser just to make that pussy wetter\nGotta put you in that vintage then you rockin' Perry Ellis\nThen I leave with you, only cause I believe in you\nWe get to bangin' on the walls just to piss the neighbors off\nYou and them 12 foot ceilings, I just painted the halls\nSo I can breathe with you\nI want to live my dream with you\nYou say that money don't matter it's the times and the memories\nAnd now that ass gettin' fatter and I know it's because of me\nI know it's because of me\nI know it's because of me, got you in custody\nWhoever knockin' at the door, they gotta wait 'til we finished\nI know I started at the bottom but that ain't where we endin'\nYou might also like\nI just want to take you out and show you off\nYou already know that you the perfect one\nGirl when I'm with you, feel like a champion\nEver since I got with you I feel like I done won me a trophy\nTrophy, I won me a trophy\nI won, I won, I won a trophy\nI won me a trophy\nTrophy, I won me a trophy\nA trophy\n\nYou the number one trophy wife\nSo it's only right to live the trophy life\nYou grew up on J. Lo, Timberlands by Manolo now\n'Til one day I put an angel in your ultrasound\nI wanna dip that ass in gold, I wanna dip that ass in gold\nI made it over NBA, NFL players\nSo every time I score it's like the Super Bowl\nBaby, we should hit the south of France\nSo you could run around without them pants\nI put that glacier on your little hand\nNow that's the only thing without a tan\nMy trophy on that Bound bike, I gave you only pipe\nIf people don't hate then it won't be right\nYou could look at Kylie, Kendall, Kourtney and Khloe\nAll your Mama ever made was trophies, right?\nI just want to take you out and show you off\nYou already know that you the perfect one\nGirl when I'm with you, feel like a champion\nEver since I got with you I feel like I done won me a trophy\nTrophy, I won me a trophy\nI won, I won, I won a trophy\nI won me a trophy\nTrophy, I won me a trophy\nA trophy"}
{"text":"Zaytoven\n\nMexicano, working like I'm Mexicano\nNew persona, we're moving on from Ferragamo (I'm moving on)\nGet the llama, I party with the real Madonna (Yeah)\nBeat the odds, do numbers and remain humble (Future)\n\nDrop-top Porsches, I'm so used to this (Yeah)\nSmoking out the pound, I'm so used to this (I swear)\nI know where I'm from and I got used to this (Ayy)\nMansion in the hills, I got used to this (Future)\n\nStack of booty bitches, I got used to this\nThis ice flooded my wrist, I done got used to this\nTropicana bitches, I got all kinda flavors\nSelling dope all my life, I can't do minimum wage (Nah)\nDirty-dirty money, I got used to this (Gang)\nI give you my whole heart 'til there ain't nothing to give (Future)\nYou know how far we came if you know where we been\n(Freebandz)\nHow many niggas you know can hop in the Benz?\nBe honest to yourself, don't you never pretend (Tell 'em)\nDon't ever play yourself, know when it all begins (You know)\nI had to put my back against the wall (And what?)\nTell me that I don't deserve to ball\nYou might also like\nMexicano, working like I'm Mexicano\nNew persona, we're moving on from Ferragamo\nGet the llama, I party with the real Madonna\nBeat the odds, do numbers and remain humble (Yeah)\n\nDrop-top Porsches, I'm so used to this\nSmoking out the pound, I'm so used to this\nI know where I'm from and I got used to this\nMansion in the hills, I got used to this\n\nLambo come alive, man, I'm used to this\nNo one looks surprised 'cause we used to this\nI'ma make sure that we get used to this\nTreat my brother's kids like they one of my kids\nNever looking back on it, we did what we did\nCould never find the time for the people I miss\nThought they had my back against the wall\nTell me that I don't deserve to ball\nWell, then tell me who deserve it\nEyes getting low but I'm still observing, I see you lurking\nNever see me out in person, I'm always working\nMoney on your head if you make a nigga nervous\nNever made a move out here unless I was certain\nTatted on me, but this shit is deeper than the surface\nI'm with everyone that I was here with in the first place\nMaking sure that they all good before they close the curtain\nMexicano, working like I'm Mexicano (Working)\nNew persona, we're moving on from Ferragamo\nGet the llama, I party with the real Madonna (Yeah)\nBeat the odds, do numbers and remain humble (Future)\n\nDrop-top Porsches, I'm so used to this\nSmoking out the pound, I'm so used to this (I swear)\nI know where I'm from and I got used to this\nMansion in the hills, I got used to this (Future)"}
{"text":"Times getting hard but a nigga still gettin' it\nYoung rich niggas, in this motherfucker, huh\n\nWhen you wake up before you brush your teeth\nYou grab your strap, nigga\nOnly time you get down on your knees\nShooting craps, nigga\nFuck what you heard, God blessin' all the trap niggas\nGod blessin' all the trap niggas\nWhen you wake up before you brush your teeth\nYou grab your strap, nigga\nOnly time you get down on your knees\nShooting craps, nigga\nFuck what you heard, God blessin' all the trap niggas\nGod blessin' all the trap niggas\n\nWeighed 1008 grams on the scale\nI got a lower case T across my chest\nYour crack house doin' numbers then you blessed\nYou move your momma to a crib from the 'jects\nIt's so much alcohol and kush on my breath\nWe prayin' five times a day to catch a plug\nA few bean pies stashed in the trunk\nShoot dice all day and sell dust\nYou loaded up, they talkin' shit, you gone bust\nTold yourself a million times, you don't give a fuck\nSold over a million dimes, hangin' in the cut\nSold over a million dimes, I don't give a fuck\nWhat?\nYou might also like\nWhen you wake up before you brush your teeth\nYou grab your strap, nigga\nOnly time you get down on your knees\nShooting craps, nigga\nFuck what you heard, God blessin' all the trap niggas\nGod blessin' all the trap niggas\nWhen you wake up before you brush your teeth\nYou grab your strap, nigga\nOnly time you get down on your knees\nShooting craps, nigga\nFuck what you heard, God blessin' all the trap niggas\nGod blessin' all the trap niggas\n\nHasta Ia-la-uego wake up with that Glock, okay though\nStash the dope inside a Winnebago in Decatur\nYou got your work, you posted up in the hood Bodega\nLil' woadie loading up that yopper before he brush his teeth\nGotta roll a backwood up while he count the cheese\nWe on the turf, getting active on the backstreet\nI'm drinkin' Actavis, the only thing that relax me\nI'm on drugs, every single day I pop a seal\nWe talk that lingo 'round here, we try to work a deal\nYou pull up round here, they serve you here to Dixie Hills\nYou hit Old Nat, I know on Godby you\u2019ll see a trap house\nGotta cock it back, out here this shit wid-ild\nWhen you wake up before you brush your teeth\nYou grab your strap, nigga\nOnly time you get down on your knees\nShooting craps, nigga\nFuck what you heard, God blessin' all the trap niggas\nGod blessin' all the trap niggas\nWhen you wake up before you brush your teeth\nYou grab your strap, nigga\nOnly time you get down on your knees\nShooting craps, nigga\nFuck what you heard, God blessin' all the trap niggas\nGod blessin' all the trap niggas\n\nYou loaded up, they talkin' shit, you gone bust\nTold yourself a million times, you don't give a fuck\nSold over a million dimes, hangin' in the cut\nSold over a million dimes, I don't give a fuck\nWhat?"}
{"text":"\nReal dope dealers for real, haha\nHahaha\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\n\nWhippin' the yam, whippin and flippin' the yam\nTurn the whole brick to a Lam\nRe-rockin' the dope, soon as it get off the boat\nKeepin' it soft like a mink\nGold on my link, coke in the sink\nChoppin' that work like karate\nServin' a new Maserati, in a brand new Maserati\nThat's a whole lot of new money\nSnatch it, then hide it from the 12\nMovin' them squares and them bales\nServin' the rawest of yayo\nBeating that china like Kunta Kinte\nWhippin' it, whippin' that fish and Parkay\nDrinkin' on syrup, I'm rollin' up haze\nMade myself a boss, a boss and a plug\nEither way you put it, nigga, I'm good\nTriple salute, nigga, straight out the hood\nBakin' soda water splash the scales\nFork in my right and my pot in my left\nLeanin' all the way over to the side\nI whip me a four way to a nine\nThe dirty, the money is homicide\nAnd my recipe can't be televised\nYou might also like\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nThey move that dope, they move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga move that dope\nThey move that dope, they move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\n\nYoung enough to still sell dope\nBut old enough that I knows better\nWhen they sayin' it's 42 for that white powder, I knows better\nGet it, nigga? I nose better, put a smile on the devil's face\nWho don't wanna sell dope forever\nAnd flood their Rollie till the bezel break?\nWoo! Fish scale in the two-door that I fish-tails\nFiberglass, Ferrari leather, in designer shit that I misspell\nYUGHH! Look at the clues\nThe J's, the jewels, I'm actin' a monkey\nFrom 16 years old, I'm whippin' in kitchens, fuckin' my junkies\nPablo, Versace way before Migos\nMy dinner plates, no silverware, all you niggas my hijos\nToss a kilo like a free throw, crack house, it had the peephole\nMade it through to the other side\nNow nothing's big as my ego, Push\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nThey move that dope, they move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nThey move that dope, they move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nMe, I try to leave the best for later\nBut Pusha tried to put me on the respirator\nThe old Skateboard P, that's your favorite\nMe and twenty girls doin' yoga naked\nFrequency high, like a spaceship\nShe say that she like it and she's been exposed\nThe Gandalf hat and the weird ass clothes\nThat's Comme des Gar\u00e7ons and the Buffalo\nI know guerrillas with the triggers that's on a banana clip\nAnd packin' with the biggest missiles\nThese niggas is knocking over vehicles\nThese niggas ain't waitin' just to see niggas\nThese niggas ain't tryna hear plea, niggas\nThese niggas like choppin' down trees, niggas\nThese niggas 1-2-3 and they squeeze, niggas\nThese niggas hit the weed then they lean niggas, gee, nigga\nIf you got two hoes, you need to let one go\nTwo Lambos, you need to let one go\nAll these drones while y'all smoke dro\nThere's an eye in the sky, I'm tryna let y'all know\nAin't no standards, I'ma set one though\nBig ass bag but no man sandals\nAll that war, we need to let that go\nThat boom business, I'ma get that ho\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nThey move that dope, they move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nThey move that dope, they move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga got that coke, whip that dope like a bad child\nHow you think about that coupe with no roof?\nYoung nigga cashed out\nPopped so many Percs, popped so many Xans\nYoung nigga 'bout to pass out\n12 jump behind me, I got some in the car\nYoung nigga 'bout to smash out\nMigo hit that line, say he got some bricks\nYoung fresh 'bout to buy 'em out\nQuikTrip 'round the corner, dropped a nine\nGot the J's in the lunch line smokin' iron\nCocaine, cocaine cowboy, like Mickey Munday\nTake over the project, whip a line, me no wait\nI keep a .45 in my coat while I'm servin' dope\nThe J's in my hood smoke that crack, say it give 'em hope\nServe a nigga whole brick, he hopin' that it come and go\nYoung nigga tricked up\nNow he spendin' that money with Casino!\n\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nAyy, move that dope, ayy, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nThey move that dope, they move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope\nThey move that dope, they move that dope\nYoung nigga, move that dope"}
{"text":"Took a shot of Henny, I've been going brazy, brazy\nThey say my whole hood got it under investigation\nThey know they talk that stick talk, that stick talk\nThey know we talk that lick talk, that lick talk\n\n10 million dollars cash, fuck a friend\nStarted sipping syrup, I've been geeked ever since\nGotta keep that heat on the seat ever since\nYou know we talk that stick talk, that stick talk\nI'm 'bout to fuck this cash up on a new toy\n'Bout to fuck this cash up on a new toy\nYou can't understand us \u2018cause you're too soft\nTaliban bands, run 'em straight through the machinery\n\nThey came through with a stick and you heard it\nThey came through in this bitch and they were swerving\nI can't believe the blood ain't on my shirt\nBecause he got hit close-range\nWe be talking stick talk, we be talking bricks too\nWe be talking lick talk, and I'ma fuck your bitch too\nI ain't got no manners for no sluts\nI'ma put my thumb in her butt\nYou might also like\nTook a shot of Henny, I've been going brazy, brazy\nThey say my whole hood got it under investigation\nThey know they talk that stick talk, that stick talk\nThey know we talk that lick talk, that lick talk\n\nI'm 'bout to fuck this cash up on a new toy\n'Bout to fuck this cash up on a new toy\nYou can't understand us \u2018cause you're too soft\nTaliban bands, run 'em straight through the machinery\n\nI'ma tell a lie under oath\nI can see it in your eyes, you're going broke\nOxycontin got her with a body count (sak pase)\nRiding in a car I barely can pronounce\nOrdered up a chauffeur, told him, \"ride me round the whole world\"\nI was on the E-way with that molly and that old girl\nGet a little cheaper, you could win\nHit it little harder, get the Benz\n\n10 million dollars cash, fuck a friend\nStarted sipping syrup, I've been geeked ever since\nGotta keep that heat on the seat ever since\nYou know we talk that stick talk, that stick talk\nI'm 'bout to fuck this cash up on a new toy\n'Bout to fuck this cash up on a new toy\nYou can't understand us \u2018cause you're too soft\nTaliban bands, run 'em straight through the machinery\nFully loaded whip tote fully loaded clips\nFucking with my niggas, I'll smoke a zip\nRed eyes, and I got them Zoes with me\nTaliban bands, run 'em straight through the machinery\n\nTook a shot of Henny, I've been going brazy, brazy\nThey say my whole hood got it under investigation\nThey know they talk that stick talk, that stick talk\nThey know we talk that lick talk, that lick talk\n\n10 million dollars cash, fuck a friend\nStarted sipping syrup, I've been geeked ever since\nGotta keep that heat on the seat ever since\nYou know we talk that stick talk, that stick talk"}
{"text":"Call it how it is\nHendrix\nI promise, I swear, I swear\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I\u2019m gon' shoot you\nYou heard, spit it, yo\n\nPercocets (Ya), molly, Percocets (Percocets)\nPercocets (Ya), molly, Percocets (Percocets)\nRep the set (Yee), gotta rep the set (Gang, gang)\nChase a check (Chase it), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches)\nMask on (Off), fuck it, mask off (Mask off)\nMask on (Off), fuck it, mask off (Mask off)\nPercocets ('Cets), molly, Percocets (Percocets)\nChase a check (Chase it), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches)\n\nTwo cups (Cups), toast up with the gang (Gang, gang)\nFrom food stamps to a whole 'nother domain, ya\nOut the bottom (Ya), I'm the livin' proof (Super)\nAin't compromising, half a million on a coupe (Gang, gang)\nDrug houses (Where?), lookin' like Peru (Whoa, whoa, whoa)\nGraduated, I was overdue (I'm on due)\nPink molly (Molly), I can barely move (Barely move)\nAsk about me ('Bout me), I'm gon' bust a move\nRick James (James), thirty-three chains (Thirty-three)\nOcean air (Air), cruisin' Biscayne (Big foreigns)\nTop off (Ya), that\u2019s a liability (Big foreigns)\nHit the gas (Gas), boostin' my adrenaline (Big foreigns)\nYou might also like\nPercocets (Ya), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nPercocets (Ya), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nRep the set (Yee), gotta rep the set (Gang, gang)\nChase a check (Chase it, ye), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches, big foreign)\nMask on (Off, ye), fuck it, mask off (Mask, big foreigns)\nMask on (Off, ye), fuck it, mask off (Mask, big foreigns)\nPercocets ('Cets, ye), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nChase a check (Chase it), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches)\n\nFour-door Maybach (Four-door), I drive anything (Ye)\nBuy my Range (Ye), make 'em go insane (Ye)\n(Oh my Lord, praise him be)\nDJ EscoMoe City\n\nUh, I got a halo\nI level up every time God say so\nShooter on payroll\nLookin' like Pancho, lookin' like Pedro\nMoney tree from Tarzan\nTen dividends gon' grow when I say \"grow\"\nKung Fu Kenny with the Midas touch\nAin't no penny that I don't touch\nAll my enemy bite on dust\nAin't no talkin' when it's fatal\nHavin' heart, I can't tell (Wait)\nHalf of y'all might need help (Wait)\nI might fall in Rodeo (Bitch)\nI might ball in Australia (Say no more)\nI might call her for real (Say no more)\nAll the ass gon' unveil\nWind blows in the windows and I snuck in when the vent close\nShe copy like 10-4, know who we sent for\nPlatinum, platinum, platinum\nGotta look at self and ask what happened\nHow y'all let a conscious nigga go commercial\nWhile only makin' conscious albums?\nHow y'all let the braids on TV?\nHow y'all let the hood at the table?\nNow y'all don't even know how to rate him\nNiggas lookin' like I'm a Create-A-Player\nEverybody who didn't pay respect\nGotta 'fess up now and pay ya debts\nGotta lay somethin' down if makin' threats\nGotta say somethin' now, don't hold ya breath\nI mean, I'm floatin', I got the sauce, got the potion\nI got 'em all in convulsions and emotions\nI put careers in negotions and put the body in the ocean\nI made an oath when my nigga told me to go in\nThen he died on a cold bench\nAll my old friends livin' life on a slow end\nGotta keep shit rollin', it's deep (It's deep, it's deep, it's deep)\nI done fucked so much, I can't sleep (I can't sleep, I can't sleep)\nI done fucked so much, I'm retired (Swear to God, swear to God)\nI'm 'bout to live my life through Dave Free (Swear to God, swear to God)\nShe said she broke down when Prince died (It's alright)\nBitch, my hair down, Prince live through me (I am Prince)\nGet your ass up and be inspired (Get inspired)\nYou know how many bodies in the street? (How many?)\nTake the mask off so you can see\nPercocets (Ya), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nPercocets (Ya), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nRep the set (Yee), gotta rep the set (Gang, gang)\nChase a check (Chase it), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches, big foreign)\nMask on (Off, ye), fuck it, mask off (Mask, big foreigns)\nMask on (Off, ye), fuck it, mask off (Mask, big foreigns)\nPercocets (Ye), molly, Percocets (Big foreigns)\nChase a check (Chase it), never chase a bitch (Don't chase no bitches)\n\nMask on, fuck it, mask off\nMask on, fuck it, mask off\nMask on, fuck it, mask off\nGas gone, never nod off\nVengeance is mine, said the Lord"}
{"text":"\nNard & B\n\nIt's gon' be okay, okay, oh, it's gon' be okay (Okay)\nReal hard, nigga, we don't play, but you gon' be okay (FBG)\nI don't want no relations (No), I just want your facial (Swear)\nI don't want no relations, I just want your facial (Head)\nPour some alcohol and drink it, baby, go and taste it (Drink up)\nPour some alcohol and drink it, baby, go and taste it (Okay)\nI don't want no relations (Okay), I just want your facial (Okay)\nGirl, you know you like a pistol, you a throwaway\n\nWe gon' drink, girl, we gon' drink like it's Cinco De Mayo (Let's pour)\nI won't ever tell you anything your heart desires (Oh, no)\nIt's gon' be okay, okay, girl, it's gon' be okay (Woah, woah)\nI don't want no confrontation, it too complicated (That's all)\nPour my lean for me, baby, you a hottie thottie (Pour, pour)\nI'm gon' fuck you in Atlanta like we on an island (Yeah)\nI can't lose my concentration, girl, I ain't go on no dates (I can't go)\nIf we have a conversation, gotta fuck today (Woo)\nI ain't disrespectful never, I ain't disrespectful (I ain't disrespectful)\nGot a black girl and a white one, call 'em salt and pepper (Oh yeah)\nI copped one of 'em a Bimmer and one a Kompressor (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI told her I would call her back and I forgot to text her (FreeBandz)\nYou might also like\nIt's gon' be okay, okay, oh, it's gon' be okay (Okay)\nReal hard, nigga, we don't play, but you gon' be okay (FBG)\nI don't want no relations (No), I just want your facial (Swear)\nI don't want no relations, I just want your facial (Head)\nPour some alcohol and drink it, baby, go and taste it (Drink up)\nPour some alcohol and drink it, baby, go and taste it (Okay)\nI don't want no relations (Okay), I just want your facial (Okay)\nGirl, you know you like a pistol, you a throwaway\n\nDeep down\nI believe you know you're a monster too\n\nGo'n fuck that nigga, get it over with\nGo'n fuck that nigga, get it over with\nGo'n fuck that nigga, get it over with\nGo'n fuck that nigga, get it over with\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nFuture Hendrix\nI know your true feelings ain't\nThey couldn't be here, you hear me?\nThey gotta be somewhere else\nI ain't worryin' 'bout no fucking, I ain't worried 'bout no fucking\nDoes sexing on the late night mean that much to you?\nMy love don't mean that much to you\nFucking these hoes meant too damn much to you\nI just hope when you fucking on that nigga, when you finished\nHe can say that he love you\nNow do you feel better 'bout yourself?\nDo you feel better by yourself?\nDid you feel better when I left?\nMark my words, I'ma ball without you\nI came home last night to a m\u00e9nage\nGot my dick sucked and I was thinking about you\nI was fucking on a slut and I was thinking about you\nWhen you fucking on that nigga, hope you thinking about me\nWhen you laying with that nigga, hope you thinking about me\n'Cause I'm thinking about you\n\nGo'n fuck that nigga, get it over with\nGo'n fuck that nigga, get it over with\n\nI want you to fuck him in paradise\n'Cause I wanna be in your head tonight\nIf loving me in public ain't safe\nYou can take my love and hide it\nDon't give up on me today\nHold on to me like a true love\nI told you it was a true love\nI ended up with temptations\nYou goin' out the country\nYou posting up on IG\nI'm laid up with my sidepiece\nThe one that text while you was right there laying up beside me\nNow tell me you don't want me\nTell me that the pussy ain't mines no more\nTell me you moving on and you don't love me no more\nMonster\nI ain't worryin' 'bout no fucking, I ain't worried 'bout no fucking\nDoes sexing on the late night mean that much to you?\nMy love don't mean that much to you\nFucking these hoes meant too damn much to you\nI just hope when you fucking on that nigga, when you finished\nHe can say that he love you\nNow do you feel better 'bout yourself?\nDo you feel better by yourself?\nDid you feel better when I left?\nMark my words, I'ma ball without you\nI came home last night to a m\u00e9nage\nGot my dick sucked and I was thinking about you\nI was fucking on a slut and I was thinking about you\nWhen you fucking on that nigga, hope you thinking about me\nWhen you laying with that nigga, hope you thinking about me\n'Cause I'm thinking about you\n\nGo'n fuck that nigga, get it over with\nGo'n fuck that nigga, get it over with"}
{"text":"I will wait for you, for you\nEarly in the mornin', late at night (I will wait for you)\nIt doesn't even matter what time it is (I will wait for you)\nPresidential Rollie, RM, wait (Higher, sayin' higher-er-er-er)\nWhenever I find time, it's okay (Ayy)\nATL Jacob, ATL Jacob\n\nYou pray for my demons, girl, I got you\nEvery time I sip on codeine, I get vulnerable\nI'm knowin' the sounds of the storm when it come\nShe understand I can't take her everywhere a nigga going\nI been in the field like th\u0435 children of the corn\n\nI can hear your t\u0435ars when they drop over the phone\nGet mad at yourself 'cause you can't leave me alone\nGossip, bein' messy, that ain't what we doing (World was ending)\nTravel around the world (Would you cry or would you try to get me?)\nOver the phone, dropping tears (Tell me now, I want you to be clear, yeah)\nI get more vulnerable when I do pills (Tell me now, I need you to be clear, yeah)\nWhen you drunk, you tell me exactly how you feel (I will wait for you, for you)\nWhen I'm loaded, I keep it real (I will wait for you, I will wait for you)\nPlease tell a real one exactly what it is (I will wait, will wait, for you, for you)\nDon't say it 'cause you know that's what I wanna hear (I will wait for you, I will wait for you)\nYou might also like\nYeah, I been trappin' 'round the world\nI sit on my balcony and wonder how you feelin'\nI got a career that takes my time away from women\nI cannot convince you that I love you for a livin' (Will wait for you, for you)\nI be on your line, feelings flowin' like a river\nYou be textin' back you at Kiki on the river (I will wait for you)\nMessage say delivered (I will wait for you), but I know that you don't get it\nWhy you introduce us if you knew that you was with him? (I will wait for you, for you, for you)\nMade me shake his hand when y'all been fuckin' for a minute (I will wait for you, for you)\nWalk me off the plank because you know that I'm a swimmer (I will wait for you)\nSupposed to be your dog, but you done put me in a kennel\nGirl, put a muzzle on it, all that barkin' over dinner\nI was fuckin' with you when you had the tiny Presidential\nYou got better when you met me and that ain't coincidental\nTried to bring the best out you, guess I'm not that influential\nGuess I'm not the one that's meant for you\n\nI can hear your tears when they drop over the phone\nGet mad at myself 'cause I can't leave you alone\nGossip, bein' messy, that ain't what we doing, yeah (World was ending)\nTrappin' around the world (Would you cry or would you try to get me?)\nOver the phone, dropping tears (Tell me now, I want you to be clear, yeah)\nI get more vulnerable when I do pills (Tell me now, I need you to be clear, yeah)\nWhen you drunk, you tell me exactly how you feel (I will wait for you, for you)\nWhen I'm loaded, I keep it real (I will wait for you, I will wait for you)\nPlease tell a real one exactly what it is (I will wait, will wait, for you, for you)\nDon't say it 'cause you know that's what I wanna hear (I will wait for you, I will wait for you)\nEarly in the mornin', late at night\nIt don't even matter what time it is\nWorld was ending, would you cry or would you try to get me?\nTell me now, I want you to be clear, yeah\nTell me now"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsJersey Lyrics\nFirst I got married to money\nThen I fell in love with that dirty\nFirst I got married to money\nThen I fell in love with that dirty\nExtendo, extendo, extendo\nThe clip gotta hold like a thirty\nI got my clique and they represent this\nLike a nigga wearin' jerseys\nLike a nigga wearin' jerseys\nI get love way in Jersey\nCrime rate's goin' crazy, crazy\n'Cause my young niggas so thirsty\nCouple commas, made a purchase\nCaught the wave, I ain't surfin'\nCaught the wave, I ain't surfin'\nYou do what you want when you poppin', yeah\nYou do what you want when you poppin'\nYou do what you want once you cop it\nYou do what you want when you got it, yeah\nYou do what you want when you poppin'\nYou do what you want when you got it, huh\n\nI be on syrup, they know it, huh\nStack up some money, then blow it, huh\nI do what I want and I spazz\nTake the Styrofoam, pour the syrup up\nIt's a dress code, but that ain't for us\nYou might also like\nDo what you want when you poppin', don't fold up\nWhen I'm feelin' the stress, then I pour up\nReppin' the set like a soldier\nHop out a Benz when I roll up\nI wasn't splurging on purpose\nYou lame niggas makin' me nervous\nI keep me a banger like Birdie\nSip out my cup and it's dirty\n\nFirst I got married to money\nThen I fell in love with that dirty\nFirst I got married to money\nThen I fell in love with that dirty\nExtendo, extendo, extendo\nThe clip gotta hold like a thirty\nI got my clique and they represent this\nLike a nigga wearin' jerseys\nLike a nigga wearin' jerseys\nI get love way in Jersey\nCrime rate's goin' crazy, crazy\n'Cause my young niggas so thirsty\nCouple commas, made a purchase\nCaught the wave, I ain't surfin'\nCaught the wave, I ain't surfin'\nYou do what you want when you poppin', yeah\nYou do what you want when you poppin'\nYou do what you want once you cop it\nYou do what you want when you got it, yeah\nYou do what you want when you poppin'\nYou do what you want when you got it, huh\nLike the smell of that money when it burn\nBitch, you know a nigga poppin', wait your turn\nI make so much money, it's got me delirious\nWhen your gang-gang in the chain gang, shit serious\nI gotta maintain, I'm superior, nigga\nI rep the same gang on account of my niggas\nWe fill up two planes on account of these riches\nI fuck up some loose change on account of these bitches\n\nI be on syrup, they know it, huh\nStack up some money, then blow it, huh\nI do what I want and I spazz\nTake the Styrofoam, pour the syrup up\nIt's a dress code, but that ain't for us\n\nFirst I got married to money\nThen I fell in love with that dirty\nFirst I got married to money\nThen I fell in love with that dirty\nExtendo, extendo, extendo\nThe clip gotta hold like a thirty\nI got my clique and they represent this\nLike a nigga wearin' jerseys\nLike a nigga wearin' jerseys\nI get love way in Jersey\nCrime rate's goin' crazy, crazy\n'Cause my young niggas so thirsty\nCouple commas, made a purchase\nCaught the wave, I ain't surfin'\nCaught the wave, I ain't surfin'\nYou do what you want when you poppin'"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsSelfish Lyrics\nOoh (Ooh)\nYeah\n\nIt was right\nEven though it felt wrong\nNothin' ever stopped you\nFrom showin' your progression suddenly\nBroken lies\nDriving backwards\nMaking all the wrong turns, saying all the wrong words\nDodging angels\n\nOh-oh\nLet's not be alone\nLet's not be alone\nLet's be one\nOh-oh\nLet's not be alone\n\nEmpty thoughts fill the room (Mm)\nBreathe for me and I'll breathe for you\nYou might also like\nLet's be selfish, selfish, bae, yeah (Tonight)\nTonight\nLet's be selfish, selfish, baby (Tonight)\nTonight (Tonight, yeah, yeah)\n\nI just hit the lick, south of France\nCurrency exchange, lookin' fancy\nIf that money dirty, make it dance\n25 karats cost a mansion\nGold rose petals, bottle standin'\nCame from the concrete, takin' chances\nPop gold Ace like a Xanny\nI just need the blessin' from your family\nBroken lies, ain't no love without us\nIt will die, roses turn into dust\nEvery night, we gettin' more popular\nWrong is right when it comes to us\n\nOh, let's not be alone\nLet's not be alone, mmm, tonight\n\nLet's be selfish, selfish, bae, yeah (Tonight)\nTonight\nLet's be selfish, selfish, baby (Tonight)\nTonight (Tonight, yeah, yeah)\nI'll be selfish, let's be selfish\nOh-oh, oh-oh (Yeah, yeah)\nOoh, oo-oo-ooh\nI'll be selfish\nLet's be selfish\nLet's be-\nLet's be selfish\nYeah, yeah"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsPurple Reign Lyrics\nDJ EscoMoe City the coolest DJ on the muthafuckin' planet\nIf young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you\nAyy, somebody uh, call somebody get some molly\nI need some good sauce, clean sauce\n\nPurple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple reign, Purple-\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need-\nPurple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple reign, Purple-\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need purple\n\nAnd I keep a pint of cup of purple like Whoopi\nAnd I keep the stainless steel on me like shoes\nThey got me going way harder now we can't lose\nI had the conversation cause these niggas ain't true\nI know you credit card fraud gangs bustin' some moves\nI hope you're stacking money to the ceiling out the roof\nI hope you ain't catchin' feelings for no bitch who fucked the crew\nYou know I'm independent, get the 'rillo, bust a jug\nYou know that purple reign had them hitters on foot\nI see you acting strange, I can tell this ain't love\nThat brand new Mulsanne, had to get it out the mud\nPurple reign, purple reign is understood\nYou might also like\nPurple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple-\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need-\n\nI just need my girl, I just need my girlfriend\nI bought a couple Hublots like I'm pushing heroin\nI bought a couple coup\u00e9s, I bought a couple Panameras\nI'm acting like a Freeband Gang terrorist\nRed cup of lean, don't approach me like a junkie\nTake a pledge to the team, we gon' kill and get money\nInternational, we taking over all the countries\nAny nationality they coming, baby, coming\nRide shotgun in the foreign, that's a Rover\nUntil you gun down, we gon' never have closure\nGot real estate downtown, investing all over\nI heard you're trying to talk down like I ain't focused\nI know you tryna play around like I ain't got soldiers\nBig cup of syrup washing down all my doja\nWearing Louis loafers like they old penny loafers\nStarted off local, got the cribs bi-coastal\nI don't want no words with you 'cause you mad bogus\nI'm just tryna motivate the hoods all over\nI'm just tryna teach you how to get these whips loaded\nI'm just tryna show you how to get a few Rollies\nPurple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple-\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need-\nPurple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple-\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need-\n\nHope I didn't come at you the wrong way, that wasn't planned\nHope you see the path that I made, I took a chance\nI just put my passion and drive into this\nTwo cups of that dirty, take a dab, blow kush and\nWe ain't gonna talk about it, cut you off if you keep pushing\nSince I got the fame, can't forget I was crooked\nThey wanna see me make the wrong move, bite the bullet\nSee me whip up in that new school just like a bullet\n\nPurple reign, purple-\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need-\nPurple reign, purple reign, purple reign, purple-\nPurple reign, purple reign\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need my girlfriend\nI just need-\nPurple reign, purple reign is understood\nPurple Reign, purple reign is in...\n(DJ Esco Moe City the coolest DJ on the muthafuckin planet)"}
{"text":"Yeah, Pluto\nYou better not raise your voice at me (You)\nYou know I got a pimp degree (You know)\nYeah, Pluto (You know)\n\nDraco season with the bookbag (You know)\nRat-tat got a little kickback (You)\nHundreds on hundreds got a good batch (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\n\nLamborghini doors when I lift off (You)\nThey done fucked around, got a nigga pissed off (You know)\nNice little thot got a stiff arm (You)\nDid the Heisman on the ho, got the stiff arm (You know)\nFuck all that biting like Tyson or Holyfield (You)\nWhoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa (You know)\nA couple of pills and I got my soda filled (You)\nWhoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa (You know)\nBreak out a sweat, I go head over heels for these mils (You)\nWhoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa (You know)\nShe thinks she the one but to me she ain't nothing but a thrill (You)\nWhoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa (You know)\nI've been drippin' like a God, what else? (You)\nI been dodgin' all the flage, what else? (You)\nI been fillin' up garages, what else? (You)\nI gave her her first m\u00e9nage, what else? (You know)\nUh, close your eyes, eyes, eyes (You)\nI'm about to slide, slide, slide (You know)\nWonder why, why, why (You)\nI stay in the sky, sky, sky (You know)\nPink molly, let me dance with her (You)\nFreestylin', let me dance with her (You)\nSky-Dweller, it was sentimental (You)\nRose gold, it was cinnamon\nYou might also like\nDraco season with the bookbag (You know)\nRat-tat got a little kickback (You)\nHundreds on hundreds, got a good batch (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\n\nFucking my bitch by the change (Change)\nWant me to jump out the stage (Jump out the stage)\nI wanna jump in the air (Yeah)\nYou know the love ain't fair (You know)\nYou killin' then show us the proof (You know)\nI already got the juice (You)\nChain different colors like fruits, uh (Fruits)\nI like to hang out the roof (You)\nI got to train my bitches (Let's train 'em)\nI'm putting chains on my bitches (I'm putting chains on 'em)\nI'll pull some chain on the snitches (I'll pull some chain on the snitches)\nI'm focused, I'm back on my mission (Yeah)\nFlex on a nigga, no apologies (Flex on 'em)\nMolly off-white, done got to me (Flex on 'em)\nPlaying hockey with the ice in the Major League (Yeah)\n35 bitches at the St. Reg (Yeah)\nFall back shooter like KD (Every day)\nBack in the kitchen with the Curry (Curry)\nPullin' up with Xan', can't hurt me (Hurt me)\nPineapple drink lookin' syrupy (Syrupy)\n56 nights, I was dirty (56)\nStyrofoam cups servin' patients (Woo)\nHeard you been talkin' 'bout the kid (Kid)\nKnowin' damn well that's a flagrant (Technical)\nI cancel two bitches (Cancel 'em)\nI got me some new bitches (Got 'em, got 'em)\nCome check out how I'm living (Check out how I'm living)\nI got me some new drippy (I got me some new drip)\nI got me some new drip (Got me some new drip)\nShe ain't got nothing to do with it (Nothing to do with it)\nI'll give my bitch to you (I'll give my bitch to you)\nIf that what she mean to you (If that what she mean)\nDraco season with the bookbag (You know)\nRat-tat got a little kickback (You)\nHundreds on hundreds, got a good batch (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\nDraco season with the bookbag (You know)\nRat-tat got a little kickback (You)\nHundreds on hundreds, got a good batch (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back (You know)\nYou ain't never ever get your bitch back\n\nYacht cruisin' in the deep\nI'm twisted up, I got geeked\nMisbehaving with your freak\nCan't tell she got teeth\nI was in her mouth like veneers\nStop comparing my career\nDesigner flooded through the crib\nBentley furniture for real\nBought a Fendi couch for my kids\nThey just want to plug a nigga wig\nCharge a half a mil for the gig\nMiddle fingers up, fuck the pigs\nDiamonds fallin' off me, let me jig\nNever falling off and never quit\nI retired cookin' up a brick\nCertified nigga out the 6\nWho was wrapping dummies in the zone\nI was chargin' 10 for the strong\nKeep on goin' in on this song\nKeep an F&N at your home\nLesson learned and we moving on\nI got Firm niggas, Al Capone\nGot my Chi niggas on the horn\nDowntown Atlanta I was born"}
{"text":"(DJ Esco Moe City the coolest DJ on the muthafuckin' planet)\nWicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nWicked tunes, you know what I'm sayin'?\n(Southside)\nWizard\n(Metro Boomin want some more, nigga)\n\nWicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nHold up, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nWoo, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nHold up, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nStand up in the motor, bust the dashboard\nStand up in the motor, bust the dashboard\nHold up, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nWicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\n\nCandles burning, money burning, graveyard these niggas\nPhantom parkin', big dawg barkin' hey\nLortabs on me, oh-oh-oh-oh\nShawty want that wave, oh-oh-oh-oh\nI'm drippin' Cartier, oh-oh-oh-oh\nPut a gold bird on you, that's what's happening\nI put that lingo on her, she was Spanish\nI fill a one liter up with Xannies\nThis continental and it's panoramic\nIt's complimentar-ary to the savages\nYou fuck around with me, it be a tragedy\nI want green, green, green, no asparagus\nI drink lean, lean, lean it ain't embarrassing\nYou might also like\nHuh, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nHold up, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nWooh, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\n\nNow she going, now that bitch going\nI purchase Avianne and now she lit, huh\nWedding band rings on me lit, huh\nMarried to the game, I'm the shit, huh\nWoah, woah, woah, woah\nBitch, we made men\nWe ain't pullin' up at cribs that we can't get\nYou can't pull a bitch on Instagram I ain't hit, huh\nAnd then she tellin' lies about me cause she ain't shit, uh\nShe want that big-big dog status\nI was in the alley with them nickel bags tallied\nNow I'm Taliban Gang status, that's what's happenin'\nAnd you niggas can't get close cause you don't know me\nIt ain't no more dip and dabbin', hangin' low key\nThese bitches see me and they panic\nI can't believe it, I was on the corner gamblin'\n\nWicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nHold up, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nWicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nWicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nStand up in the motor, bust the dashboard\nStand up in the motor, bust the dashboard\nWicked, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked\nHold up, wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked"}
{"text":"99 ContributorsTurn On the Lights Lyrics\nI'm lookin' for 'er\nI'm lookin' for 'er\nI'm lookin' for 'er\nI'm lookin' for 'er\n\nIs that her in the VIP-line\nWith the Vuitton and Yves Saint Laurent\nUsed to drive a Nissan now she in a Bimmer\nI don't want 'er cause she from the corner\nAnd I heard that Bimmer was a loaner\nHer old man, the owner\nAnd don't even drink Corona's\nWhat type of drink you want bruh\nOn champagne forever\nOn dirty sprite forever\nYou can come sip with me\nIf you'd like to change the weather\nIf you wanna live better\nWe can buy a crib, where ever\nDon't get too thirsty, get used to the cheddar\nI wanna tell the world about you just so they can get jealous\nAnd if you see 'er 'fore I do tell 'er I wish that I've met 'er\n\nTurn on the lights\nI'm lookin' for 'er too\nI heard she keep her promises, and never turn on you\nI heard she ain't gon' cheat and she gon' never make no move\nI heard she be there anytime you need 'er, she come through\nTurn on the lights\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nTurn on the lights\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nYou might also like\nSend 'er my way\nTell 'er I've been lookin' for 'er in the broad day\nHangin' with the dope boys in the hallways\nAnd I know, to keep 'er, yeah you gotta get that pay\nTurn on the lights\nI'm lookin' for 'er too\nI heard she got a pretty face and stand up like a stallion\nI heard that she a precious jewel, you treat her to medallions\nI wanna be the one to find out if I go to prowlin'\nAnd if I get her number, you know I can't wait to dial it\nAnd if we get together, girl, you know we gon' be wildin'\nAnd when we get together we make magic and it\u2019s ours\nWhenever you up here, ain't nun nobody can do about it\n\nTurn on the lights\nI'm lookin' for 'er too\nI heard she keep her promises, and never turn on you\nI heard she ain't gon' cheat and she gon' never make no move\nI heard she be there anytime you need 'er, she come through\nTurn on the lights\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nTurn on the lights\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nShe a hood girl\nBut she a good girl\nShe been mislead\nNow she ready for the world\nI want your energy\nTo take control of me\nI've tried to go to sleep\nAnd seen 'er in my dreams\nJust in case I run across her today I'ma stay clean\nJust in case you recognize her face, send 'er to me\nAnd tell 'er I\u2019ve been lookin' for 'er with a flashlight\nYou can't tell a nigga nothin' because I got my cash right\nAnd tell 'er if she honest I promise to stay true\nMake sure, when you tell 'er, tell 'er we goin' past the moon\n\nTurn on the lights\nI'm lookin' for 'er too\nI heard she keep her promises, and never turn on you\nI heard she ain't gon' cheat and she gon' never make no move\nI heard she be there anytime you need 'er, she come through\nTurn on the lights\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nTurn on the lights\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er\nI\u2019m lookin' for 'er"}
{"text":"Aye\nTalkin' 'bout ya bussin' heads (Ayy), nigga, you ain't shot shit\nTalkin' 'bout ya workin' clips (Ayy), nigga, you ain't\u2014\nAye (Eardrummers, Mike WiLL Made-It)\nAye, oh, you done go and get all them guns, and you ain't killed nobody yet?\nAye, how many times you shot that mothafucka, nigga?\nAye, ain't nobody popped up dead?\nAye, thought y'all niggas was murderers\nShit\n\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit\nAll you talk 'Nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit\nSpending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags (Shit), nigga, you ain't bought shit (Shit)\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles (Shit), nigga, you ain't popped shit (Shit)\nAll you talk 'Nana clips (Shit), nigga, you ain't shot shit (Shit)\nSpending money on these hoes (Shit), nigga, you ain't fuck shit (Shit)\nShit\nShit\n\nBought the ho a hunnid pair of red bottoms (Shit)\nThat's a quarter milli' on a hand job, my nigga\nBrrt, stick 'em\nFuck you and every nigga came witcha\nGo and put a nigga on a picture\nGo and put a nigga on a T-Shirt\nBack in the day, when a nigga sell dope\nI'ma slap your daddy out and then put him in a hole\nGlock 40, woo\nTurn up, turn up\nMy ambitions as a rider\nSippin' on lean, getting higher\nNigga, I'm a codeine buyer\nNo, you not a foreign whip driver\nShout out to the shooters and the shooters only\nYou never walk around with a lot of money\nHundred dollars fallin' all out your pocket\nWhen you hit 'em in the head, can you keep it solid?\nBulletproof whip, we'll blow it up\nLike some raw uncut dope, blow it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nYou might also like\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit\nAll you talk 'Nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit\nSpending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags (Shit), nigga, you ain't bought shit (Shit)\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles (Shit), nigga, you ain't popped shit (Shit)\nAll you talk 'Nana clips (Shit), nigga, you ain't shot shit (Shit)\nSpending money on these hoes (Shit), nigga, you ain't fuck shit (Shit)\nShit\nShit\n\nCatch a nigga slippin' at the red light\nWith ya AK, let me see you shoot it\nYou a goon, you a goon, you a goon, you a goon\nNigga, let me see you prove it\nPresidential Rollie and it's glidin'\nLove a nigga wrist when it's shinin'\nHate a nigga wrist when it's blingin'\nSo I went and added more diamonds\nHot Boy, nigga, BG\nThat's the way these young niggas eat\nDrinking on syrup, can't sleep\nKeep it copacetic with your partner\nBlockbuster niggas running 'round with real choppers\nNigga, what's the color of them bottles? they ain't gold\nAnd you moving 'round with ya ho\nYou ain't even sticking to the code\nPimps up, pimps up, Hoes down (Hoes down)\nA pool full of money and I'm 'bout to drown\nI'ma fool on the corner with that Bobby Brown\nButton up suits at the Grammys\nHad to turn it up for the family\nYes, I'm a Freeband bandit\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit\nAll you talk 'Nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit\nSpending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags (Shit), nigga, you ain't bought shit (Shit)\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles (Shit), nigga, you ain't popped shit (Shit)\nAll you talk 'Nana clips (Shit), nigga, you ain't shot shit (Shit)\nSpending money on these hoes (Shit), nigga, you ain't fuck shit (Shit)\nShit\nShit"}
{"text":"89 ContributorsHonest Lyrics\nDark marks all on me, I'm just honest\nRockstar my swag, I'm just honest\nEverything exotic, I'm just honest\nGold all on my neck, I'm just honest\nYeah, I'm just honest\nWe got the club on smash\n\nName another nigga hot, I'm just honest\nGold bottles on bottles, I'm just honest\n100,000 on watches, I'm just honest\nCoupes all on coupes, I'm just honest\nI keep a gang of bad bitches with me too\nAnd we ain't never going back to what we used to do\nI was gon lie to you but I had to tell the truth\nI'm just bein' honest\n\nMy piss comin' back dirty, I'm just bein' honest\nGot bitches kissin' on bitches, I'm just bein' honest\nI'm a rockstar for life, I'm just bein' honest\nGot a check on me right now, I'm just bein' honest\nWe done turnt up in Platinum, then we gon' hit Onyx\nAin't nothin' but a dopeboy, I'm just bein' honest\nThese niggas get shot for bein' honest\nI fucked her on the spot, I'm just bein' honest\nI'ma stack it 'til it rot, I'm just bein' honest\nAnd I'm drivin' foreign coupes, dash 200\nLive a rich nigga life, I'm just bein' honest\nReal street nigga ain't get nothin' but some pain from it\nYou might also like\nName another nigga hot, I'm just honest\nGold bottles on bottles, I'm just honest\n100,000 on watches, I'm just honest\nCoupes all on coupes, I'm just honest\nI keep a gang of bad bitches with me too\nAnd we ain't never going back to what we used to do\nI was gon lie to you but I had to tell the truth\nI'm just bein' honest\n\nGot crack all in my drawers, I'm just honest\nMy diamonds ain't got flaws, I'm just honest\nThese Zoes on sight niggas, I'm just honest\nWe can ball all night nigga, I'm just honest\nYou fuck nigga ya'll don't even know struggle\nYou ain't even know why a nigga out here hustlin'\nGot flat screens in the trap spot, I'm honest\nKept it real with all you niggas, I'm just too honest\nTook some bitches out the strip club, I'm just honest\nTo the niggas all out in the hood, I'm just honest\nLil Mexico for life, I'm just honest\nI came up shootin' dice, I'm just honest\n\nName another nigga hot, I'm just honest\nGold bottles on bottles, I'm just honest\n100,000 on watches, I'm just honest\nCoupes all on coupes, I'm just honest\nI keep a gang of bad bitches with me too\nAnd we ain't never going back to what we used to do\nI was gon lie to you but I had to tell the truth\nI'm just bein' honest"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00eas56 Nights Lyrics\nYeah\nWaking up fresh, that's Kodak\nKilling these niggas, you know that\nReal street nigga, you know that\nReal street nigga, you know that\n\nI think fifty-six nights crazy\nI think fifty-six nights crazy\nI think me and Esco crazy\nI think me and Young 'Sco crazy\nI did fifty-six broads on the European tour and they was all crazy\nI did fifty-six broads on the European tour and they was all crazy\nI took fifty-six bars all in one month nigga and I'm still dranking\nI could still see the scar on a nigga hand, man this shit real crazy\nI been taking these molly's, still nodding off 'cause a nigga too faded\nI've been laying low key inside a nigga vault, money is my motivation\n\nMoney keep a nigga motivated\nMolly keep a nigga motivated\nPercocet keep 'em motivated\nGood drank keep a nigga motivated\nLortabs on my conversation\nTalk a lot of bands then we conversatin'\nI was on my way to Rice Street\nIn the paddie wagon and it had me numb\nThe pain from the slum had me numb\nTryna sell some dope and eat caviar\nGot the passport in Saudi Arabia\nWe've been flossing in medallions\nWe ain't nothing but some Talibans\nI pull up right now and embarrass ya\nI've just been hanging with savages\nLately I've been hanging around with my savages\nI grew up on the block, one hunnid\nI go on The Bluff, it's one hunnid\nI done did enough in the jungle\nI done put in some work and they love me\nWhen I drink out the cup, it's so dirty\nHad the blow at the store, they was lurking\nPoured a four in a cup it was breakfast\nSprinkled sauce in my drink and I took it\nYou might also like\nI think fifty-six nights crazy\nI think fifty-six nights crazy\nI think me and Esco crazy\nI think me and Young 'Sco crazy\nI did fifty-six broads on the European tour and they was all crazy\nI did fifty-six broads on the European tour and they was all crazy\nI took fifty-six bars all in one month nigga and I'm still dranking\nI could still see the scar on a nigga hand, man this shit real crazy\nI been taking these molly's, still nodding off 'cause a nigga too faded\nI've been laying low key inside a nigga vault, money is my motivation\n\nPromethazine took my concentration\nTo another level then I elevated\nDiamonds hanging on me I'm intoxicated\nDiamonds hanging off me I'm intoxicated\nChop it up with a sack chaser\nTold you I wasn't going back, baby\nHanging out with some crack babies\nFell in love with this cash baby\nMoney touch a niggas hands\nOn a few Xans might won't count it\nSpend it all in one night\nIf we could rewind it, we'll still do it\nI'm true to this game, I jump on a plane\nAnd run to the stage\nI've been working some years for this\nMaking music, I live for this\nHit the trap in my Louboutins\nCount it up then I bag up a brick\nMount it up then I smash out in it\nYou know I'm gon' do the whole dash in this motherfucker\nI'm 'bout to pass out in this motherfucker\nI'm 'bout to pass out in this motherfucker\nThis bitch exotic than a motherfucker\nThese bitches  do anything for me\nI think fifty-six nights crazy\nI think fifty-six nights crazy\nI think me and Esco crazy\nI think me and Young 'Sco crazy\nI did fifty-six broads on the European tour and they was all crazy\nI did fifty-six broads on the European tour and they was all crazy\nI took fifty-six bars all in one month nigga and I'm still dranking\nI could still see the scar on a nigga hand, man this shit real crazy\nI been taking these molly's, still nodding off 'cause a nigga too faded\nI've been laying low key inside a nigga vault, money is my motivation"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easReal Sisters Lyrics\nThis that new wave (Zaytoven)\nFuture Hendrix, yeah, oh\nOh, that's your, that's your, that's your, shit\nHuh, hey, yeah (Hey)\n\nSay you getting throwed, I'm tryna pour up with you (Pour up)\nOh, that's your best friend? I'm tryna fuck her with you (I swear)\nFirst met the bitches, they said they real sisters (Okay)\nI don't give a fuck if they was real sisters (I swear)\nFuck around with me, try to dodge bullets (Slatt, slatt)\nServe a pack of chickens in a Dodge Hemi (Freebandz)\nFuck around with me, try to dodge bullets (I swear)\nFuck around with me, I fuck twin sisters\n\nShit, whipping up a key, tryna dodge prison (Yeah)\nTrapping in the street in some Margielas (Atlanta)\nPay attorney fees with that Godzilla (I swear)\nSell that heroin in the trap, I'm a dog nigga\nBlack Amigo Gang, got them bales on us (Bales)\nWay before the fame I had a bail on me\nTwenty thousand off a juug, ain't got a scale on me (Juug)\nReal shooters, they'll sit in jail for me (I swear)\nKill the judge, nigga, 'fore they tell on me (Slatt)\nAnd fuck a plug, nigga, I'm tryna take something (Fuck 'em)\nFinessed him out that cash, say he raped something\nI'm in Little Mexico, on the real, we 'bout to take something (Check)\nYou might also like\nSay you getting throwed, I'm tryna pour up with you (Pour up)\nOh, that's your best friend? I'm tryna fuck her with you (I swear)\nFirst met the bitches, they said they real sisters (Okay)\nI don't give a fuck if they was real sisters (I swear)\nFuck around with me, try to dodge bullets (Slatt, slatt)\nServe a pack of chickens in a Dodge Hemi (Freebandz)\nFuck around with me, try to dodge bullets (I swear)\nFuck around with me, I fuck twin sisters\n\nHublot on a nigga so she down for me (Yeah)\nStanding on the stage with them rounds on me (Them rounds on us)\nI serve a lot of chickens and I'm innocent\nI'm riding with that white, dodging penitentiary (Yeah)\nMiddle fingers always to the po-po (Fuck 'em)\nI done fell in love with the Lambo (I swear)\nI been taking mollies, rockin' Tommy (Rockin' Tommy)\nTom Ford, nigga walking like a zombie (Whatever)\nStanding in the trenches screaming murder (Whatever)\nYou need to take that nigga off and try to serve 'em (I swear)\nShe got Chanel dripping off her, I'm 'bout to murk her (Freebandz)\nAnd I can tell the way she talk, them bitches thirsty (Yeah, hey)\n\nSay you getting throwed, I'm tryna pour up with you (Pour up)\nOh, that's your best friend? I'm tryna fuck her with you (I swear)\nFirst met the bitches, they said they real sisters (Okay)\nI don't give a fuck if they was real sisters (I swear)\nFuck around with me, try to dodge bullets (Slatt, slatt)\nServe a pack of chickens in a Dodge Hemi (Freebandz)\nFuck around with me, try to dodge bullets (I swear)\nFuck around with me, I fuck twin sisters\nSlatt, slatt\nFreebandz\nI swear"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7ePerkys Calling Lyrics\nPurple Reign\nWizard\nYeah\nThinkin' about them licks I hit, I had to\nThinkin' about if you was here, I had you\nSavage\nGon' roll it up, my nigga\nRoll up, jump out the car, and squeeze the trigger\nGon' roll it up, my nigga\nRoll up, hop out the car, and squeeze the trigger\n\nI can hear the purple callin'\nI can hear the Perkies callin'\nI can hear the purple callin'\nI can hear the Xannies callin'\nI can hear them Percs callin'\nI can hear the workers callin'\nI can hear the streets callin'\nI can hear the streets callin'\n\nThinkin' about them licks I hit, I had to\nThinkin' about if you was here, I had you\nThinkin' about that cash like it's fast food\nI'm thinkin' about this cash like it's fast food\nI'm payin' all my tithes, receivin' bad news\nLord, forgive me for my sins, I know this cash rules\nEverything around me turn to fast food\nStandin' in the cold, I ain't got no blanket\nThese hoes always gettin' exposed, ain't got home trainin'\nAnd when I push up in that Rolls and I'm still drankin'\nWent from standin' over stoves to the tour bus\nStayed down, ten toes, board the G5\nSo much yellow gold on me like a beehive\nStarted rockin' Balmain's like they Levi's\nOver time, the booth is like a gold mine\nI served in Alabama like Roll Tide\nYou might also like\nI can hear the purple callin'\nI can hear the Perkies callin'\nI can hear the purple callin'\nI can hear the Xannies callin'\nI can hear them Percs callin'\nI can hear the workers callin'\nI can hear the streets callin'\nI can hear the streets callin'\n\nAquafina water got me glistenin'\nWhen I whip that Bimmer, can't you picture me rollin'?\nFuck you pussy niggas, ain't no sympathy\nNiggas tellin' lies, they so feminine\nI be sellin' pies, chasin' M&Ms\nFuck a nine-to-five, get it out the gym\nPush illegal weight, we call it out the gym\nKnock 'em off on tape, that's murder on film\nI need better thoughts, I need better vibes\nFocus on the top and let my nigga slide\nI need more advice and ain't got no time\nHustlin', do right, feel like I waited a lifetime\nWeigh up both sides 'cause your life ain't like mines\nPay me no mind, I ain't payin' no fine\nEverything I did was for my hood this whole time\nI'm talkin' this whole time, for my hood this whole time\nGotta take advantage, gotta learn how to take advantage, dog\nStole a golf cart, I go and buy a ballpark\nDrove a stolen car and now my car a push start\nI'm from the apartments, my crib big like Wal-Mart\nI can hear the purple callin'\nI can hear the Perkies callin'\nI can hear the purple callin'\nI can hear the Xannies callin'\nI can hear them Percs callin'\nI can hear the workers callin'\nI can hear the streets callin'\nI can hear the streets callin'\n\nGon' roll it up, my nigga\nRoll up, jump out the car, and squeeze the trigger\nGon' roll it up, my nigga\nRoll up, hop out the car, and squeeze the trigger"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisKarate Chop (Remix) Lyrics\nYou know\nThis just some real nigga shit, a real nigga story\nYou know what I'm saying?\nThis beat is so, so Metro\nYoung Mula, baby!\n\nAyy\nSlang a bunch of narcotics\nPull up in a new 'Rari\nLiving like John Gotti\nChopping bricks like karate\nDrink a bunch of codeine\nServing to the dope fiends\nBlowing money, stay clean\nMichael Jackson, Billie Jean\n\nGot a Panamera round a young nigga neck\nGot a young bitch pulling up in a 'Vette\nSmoke a lot of kush and I have a lot of sex\nHad to beat the grind up, ran up my check\nBitch nigga get money, nigga, get back\nRoll a blunt of chronic, nigga sell a lot of crack\nYou can hit a nigga line, order what you want\nI can whip a Maserati, pulling up a donk\n50 thousand on yo watch, young nigga, splurge\nPop a Ace of Spade bottle, sip a lot of syrup\nKeep a young nigga workin', gotta buss a cape\nI'ma take a phone call, hustle every day\nYou might also like\nAyy\nSlang a bunch of narcotics\nPull up in a new 'Rari\nLiving like John Gotti\nChopping bricks like karate\nDrink a bunch of codeine\nServing to the dope fiends\nBlowing money, stay clean\nMichael Jackson, Billie Jean\n\nWhipping up a cake, just to go and snatch a Spyder\nYoung nigga play with keys like a typewriter\nAl Capone, John Gotti was a nigga idol\nI was never snitching, I can put it on the Bible\nIn a four-door Bimmer, driving with a rifle\nNigga, where you at? nigga, we gon' pull up on ya\nYoung bitch looking like Janet in the '80s\nWe was grinding up from a tube and a baby\nGot the girl dripping wet like a Jheri curl\nGot a styrofoam cup and it's full of syrup\nSend it over from Lil' Mexico and let me work\nI can get 36 for a clean shirt\n\nAyy\nSlang a bunch of narcotics\nPull up in the new 'Rari\nLiving like John Gotti\nChopping bricks like karate\nDrink a bunch of codeine\nServing to the dope fiends\nBlowing money, stay clean\nMichael Jackson, Billie Jean\nPop a lot of pain pills\n'Bout to put rims on my skateboard wheels\nYeah\nBeat that pussy up like Emmett Till\nYeah\nTwo cell phones ringin' at the same time\nThat's your ho callin' from two different phones\nTell that bitch, \"Leave me the fuck alone!\"\nSee, you fuck her wrong, and I fuck her long\nI got a love-hate relationship with Molly\nI'd rather pop a ollie and my dick is a trolley\nBoy, I'll bury you like Halle\nAnd these hoes say I'm blind\n'Cause I don't see nothin' wrong with a little bump and grind\nMan, I just received a package\nThem other niggas taxin'\nAnd my pockets so fat, I'm startin' to feel contractions\nAnd my cousin went to jail for them chickens\nAnd he already home, man, that nigga must be snitchin'\nCut him off like karate\n\nAyy\nSlang a bunch of narcotics\nPull up in a new 'Rari\nLiving like John Gotti\nChopping bricks like karate\nDrink a bunch of codeine\nServing to the dope fiends\nBlowing money, stay clean\nMichael Jackson, Billie Jean"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easThe Percocet & Stripper Joint Lyrics\nAw yeah\nAw yeah, aw yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah\nCheck this out\n\nI get mad zooted, I got this bad thing I recruited\nMy passion is a movie, I say fuck her 'cause I screwed her\nI stay on Miley Cyrus, everywhere I go I'm screwed up\nI know my Texas niggas got my back and that's for sure though\nSippin' on Easter Pink like it's Tanqueray\nWe ain't never gon' give this perfect life up\nI know the boys saying they gettin' to the money over there\nBaby, trust me, these niggas nothin' like us\nI put charisma in my lingo and she fell for me\nI gave her realness, and that\u2019s all she gonna get from me\nBona fide superstar, I'm straight up out the hood-uh\nI just did a dose of Percocets with some strippers\n\nI just did a dose of Percocet with some strippers\nI just poured this lean in my cup like it's liquor\nI just need a whole lot of drugs in my system\nI just tried acid for the first time, I feel good\nYou might also like\nTreasure bring misery, codeine in my delivery\nI pulled up in a big B, swervin' like a hippie\nMovin' with the dopers and pushers\nIn the Rover duckin' undercover, huggin' the Interstate\nCoppin' a couple cakes and the drum hangin' under me\nGot a chain hangin' over me\nGod watching over me, all my angels watch over me\nI bag it like groceries, keep some cash flowing over me\nGot some money all in my hand and I stack it all under me\nThe young niggas under me, they gon' stand up in any war\nWe built this shit ground up like the head of a seminar\nI talk for the real ones\nI talk for them niggas that feel this shit out in Belgium\nFreeband Gang\n\nI just did a dose of Percocet with some strippers\nI just poured this lean in my cup like it's liquor\nI just need a whole lot of drugs in my system\nI just tried acid for the first time, I feel good"}
{"text":"99 ContributorsLife Is Good (Remix) Lyrics\n\nSay she want to eat sushi, I gave her enough to go shoppin'\nAnything she want,\u2005she\u2005cashin' out without\u2005no problems\nHow you gon' love a\u2005nigga that ain't got love for your mama?\nYou can die today, it ain't gon' save me nothin' but drama (Super)\n\nWorkin' on a weekend like usual\nWay off in the deep end like usual (Like usual)\nNiggas swear they passed us, they doin' too much\nHaven't done my taxes, I'm too turnt up\n\nPluto\nHelp me fight my demons off, know the usual\nI had put a chopper in her name and a Ruger\nShe hang on the block where I hang like a shooter\nThrowed away a cougar, she didn't wanna leave\nTreat her like garbage, my heart was on my sleeve\nShould've chose better with your company at least\nWhy should I have love for her if you can get it out the creep?\nWhy should I have trust for you? You ain't get it out the creek\nWhy should I have love for you? You ain't kneelin' to my feet\nWhy should I be carin' when I know I can't be beat?\nSee how the ice be glarin' when I come through and retrieve\nIt's easy to know it's us if a body in the street\nToo turned up and the plug talk Swahili\nAfter I pay my taxes, I go Richard Mille\nIn another tax bracket, you niggas beneath me\nWho causin' a racket in Jamaica on the weekend?\nHalf a ticket on vacation, I ripped up the receipt\nAnd she call me daddy 'cause my money long like Stevie\nStay down with my son, right or wrong, FBG shit (Freebandz)\nHow you gon' be gang? You bang if you rich, what's in your bloodline?\nCome in with some Talibans, everythin' gettin' gunned down\nHalloween gang in this bitch, shit gettin' scary\nThree hundred thousand for the cheapest ring, cost a Bentley truck, I'm legendary, lil' bitch\nHot, off the thermometer, lil' bitch\nHotter than fish grease, lil' bitch\nMy ring cost a big B as well as my wrist\nI'm gettin' money like this, can't tell problems exist\nI wake up fresh every day like I'm goin' to take a pic\nHermes hit my main line 'cause they know I'm lit\nStuffed a hundred-fifty racks in your purse, lil' bitch\nAnd when I wake up, go surf in your pussy, hit\nYou might also like\nSay she wanna eat sushi, I gave her enough to go shoppin'\nSwitchin' up my bitch, I leveled up and went exotic\nHow you gon' love a nigga that ain't buyin' a Birkin for your mama?\nYou can die today, I swear I still won't break my promise (Pluto)\n\nMake love on the weekend as usual\nTake drugs, goin' up, oh, that's usual\nEvery time she come, big spender\nEvery time I put my chains on, big spender\n\nIt's cool, man, got red bottoms on\nLife is good, you know what I mean? Like\n\n\nYeah, hundred thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, woo\nI done flew one out to Spain to be in my domain and Audemar-ed the bitch, woo\nDropped three dollars on a ring, cost a Bentley truck, lil' bitch, woo\nI was in the trap servin' cocaine, I ain't been the same since\n\nI can't entertain all that flodgin'\nI ain't been the same since they crossed me\nYou know how they do when you poppin'\nYou know Baby can't do all that talkin'\nI got fools tryna sue up in Boston\nI got dudes tryna sue down in Florida\nI got hoes in L.A., got a new boo from Georgia\nA milli', saved up to give to my daughter\nOver one hundred K to Drew Findling, my lawyer (Let's go)\nSix digits on cases, we beat it like Tina (Mmh)\nBaby all on the TV, that's easy\nI mixed mid with the gas and I bought me a Bimmer (Yeah)\nNow I pull up in Ghosts, they ain't see me (Casper)\nI know she gon' fuck, I ain't askin' (Uh-huh)\nF&N like a prop, this shit plastic (Phew)\nFuck around and get popped just for laughin' (Boom)\nPut that boy in a box, pick a casket\nI go take that ho to Dior, pick a shoe (Let's go)\nKickin' shit with your whore, that's my boo\nYou can go put hardwood on the floor with the hoop (Hoop)\nWe like uppin' the score, we gon' shoot (Ball)\nI never pick up when she call me (Brr, brr)\nHelp the bitch start a business, she bossin' (Uh-huh)\nLike to wake up to sex like it's coffee (Sex)\nBig baguettes on my neck, this shit cost me\nCartier, Audemar, Audemar or the Rolex (Let's go)\nI been broke before, bet I won't go back\nWhen she walk through the door, take that iron, make her hold that (Hold that)\nThey ain't seen me go out like a ho yet (Ho)\nYou know these lil' niggas got ho ways\nMake 'em come air it out like the old days (Uh-huh)\nYou a throwaway, baby, it's okay\nMy boy off a pill, need an OJ (Yeah, bitch)\nHundred thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, woo\nI done flew one out to Spain to be in my domain and Audemar-ed the bitch, woo\nDropped three dollars on a ring, cost a Bentley truck, lil' bitch, woo\nI was in the trap servin' cocaine, I ain't been the same since (Woah)\n\nSpent thirty racks on a rap bitch, could've went and bought a brick, woah\nQuarter million worth of chains, ask Icebox, everybody lit, woah\nIt ain't no coppin' deuces, nigga, that's your man, everybody get it, woah\nMade a few mil', made a few hits, fuckin' everybody bitch\nGot somethin' to lose so I stay with a shooter\nGot game from a G.O.A.T., I know how to maneuver\nShe kinda cute, really somethin' to do\nI got somethin' to do, so I gave her to Pluto, huh\nHundred thousand for a body, go inside the house and everybody get it, huh\nGot a plug on exotic, overnight 'em, floodin' everybody's city\nExtra three-fifty, might buy me a Richie\nThis shit gettin' ridiculous, sip syrup wrong, get sick\nSpot in Toronto, just show me the real ones\nGive me a few months, I'll be servin' the 6, woah\nRolls truck, four bucks, all white guts, call it good luck, woah\nNeck lit, wrist lit, look, don't touch, reach, you get busted\nHop out a Phantom, they think it's Houdini\nSeven-fifty one day, I bought two Lamborghinis\nHundred racks spent on a four carat diamond\nI didn't propose, but I bought her a ring\nThey had my bro, had to let that boy go\nHe had stick to the code, he ain't tell 'em a thing, uh\nBallin' like we won a championship, yeah\nEverybody get a ring, huh\nYeah, hundred thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, woo\nI done flew one out to Spain to be in my domain and Audemar-ed the bitch, woo\nDropped three dollars on a ring, cost a Bentley truck, lil' bitch, woo\nI was in the trap servin' cocaine, I ain't been the same since, woo\n\nHundred thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch\nHundred thousand on the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, yeah\nHundred thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch, huh\nHundred thousand for the cheapest ring on a nigga finger, lil' bitch"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7ePortugu\u00easRich $ex Lyrics\nYeah\nI got my diamonds on\nYou got your diamonds on\nWatches on watches\nI looked down and I seen beauty, yeah\nBaby, let's go have rich sex\nBaby, let's gon' have rich sex\nMake a little love, havin' rich sex\nYeah, rich sex, bitch\n\nBaby, let's go and have rich sex\nMake a little love, have rich sex (Yeah, yeah)\nBaby, let's go and have rich sex\nBaby girl, let's have some rich sex (Come on)\nI'ma keep my AP on while I do it (Do it)\nWe can keep an AP on when we do it (Do it)\nYou can keep your Rollie on when I get to it (To it)\nYou can keep your Rollie on when I get to it (Come on)\nWhen you look down, see my chains on (Chains on)\nWhen you look down, see my chains on (I got it on)\nWhen you're ridin' on me, see my chains on (Ridin' on)\nWhen you're ridin' on me, keep my chains on (VVS)\nBaby, we can go and have rich sex (Yes, yes)\nBaby girl, go and have rich sex (Future Hendrix)\nYou ain't never ever had rich sex (Ooh, ooh)\nYou ain't never ever had rich sex\nYou might also like\nNever made love to a misfit\nYou never made love to a misfit\nCome and kick a deal on some rich shit\nI'ma keep it pimpin' on some rich shit\nWe can do the show on the jet lift\nFuckin' in the air on the jet, bitch\nWe can do the helicopter cruisin' over Vegas\nHundred thousand dollars for a watch, countin' fetti\nKiss on a nigga with his chains on, glisten\nFuck so good, got both of us dizzy\nDo it lowkey, profile, get busy\nDo it lowkey, profile, gettin' busy\nGot the Audemars Piguet on fleek\nGot my number one freak in the sheets\nAnd all she want is the D\nAnd for me to keep this ice on me\n\nBaby, let's go and have rich sex\nMake a little love, have rich sex (Yeah, yeah)\nBaby, let's go and have rich sex\nBaby girl, let's have some rich sex (Come on)\nI'ma keep my AP on while I do it (Do it)\nWe can keep an AP on when we do it (Do it)\nYou can keep your Rollie on when I get to it (To it)\nYou can keep your Rollie on when I get to it (Come on)\nWhen you look down, see my chains on (Chains on)\nWhen you look down, see my chains on (I got it on)\nWhen you're ridin' on me, see my chains on (Ridin' on)\nWhen you're ridin' on me, keep my chains on (VVS)\nBaby, we can go and have rich sex (Yes, yes)\nBaby girl, go and have rich sex (Future Hendrix)\nYou ain't never ever had rich sex (Ooh, ooh)\nYou ain't never ever had rich sex\nLet's stop for a while, have recess\nLet's stop for a while, have recess\nLet's kiss for a while, have recess\nLet's touch for a while, have recess\nDo it for a while like a replay\nLet me see you wind that ass up like a DJ\nRun that back like a DJ\nI know you see this big face\nChandelier froze for a bad one\nCome and kick game in your ear while I smash you\nAnd I keep them thangs in my ear while I'm stabbin'\nAnd I catch you hot like the flame and the passion\nAnd I got the flash on deck, no battery\nAnd I have some Tom Fords on while you suckin' me\nCuban link hang off my neck, to your nip from my neck\nTo my watch and my chain, it's gon' drizzle, gon' drizzle\n\nBaby, let's go and have rich sex\nMake a little love, have rich sex (Yeah, yeah)\nBaby, let's go and have rich sex\nBaby girl, let's have some rich sex (Come on)\nI'ma keep my AP on while I do it (Do it)\nWe can keep an AP on when we do it (Do it)\nYou can keep your Rollie on when I get to it (To it)\nYou can keep your Rollie on when I get to it (Come on)\nWhen you look down, see my chains on (Chains on)\nWhen you look down, see my chains on (I got it on)\nWhen you're ridin' on me, see my chains on (Ridin' on)\nWhen you're ridin' on me, keep my chains on (VVS)\nBaby, we can go and have rich sex (Yes, yes)\nBaby girl, go and have rich sex (Future Hendrix)\nYou ain't never ever had rich sex (Ooh, ooh)\nYou ain't never ever had rich sex"}
{"text":"I've been in the stu late, workin', no residuals\nIf we never speak again, I'm just glad I got to tell the truth\nI ain't done countin'\nYou wanna come to paradise?\nMatter of fact, you wanna come to Pluto?\nHa-ha\n\nShe told me she was an angel\nShe fucked two rappers and three singers\nShe got a few athletes on speed dial\nI'm tryna get the case dismissed before I see trial\nAnd these codeine habits ain't got nothin' to do with my lil' child\nNo this codeine ain't got nothin' to do with my lil' child\nI used to sell dope at my grandma's house, as a rude child\nAll these cameras on, fuckin' with my mood, wild\nAnd these chains clinkin' back and forth, they too loud\nThey know damn well this wasn't promised\nI know damn well this must be karma\nLeft every pair of Margielas at the condo\nTechnically I never packed up and leave\nLeft eighty racks in the dresser, you can keep\nAnd I got this bad ting at disposal\nI cooked it up and then I went global\nMy baby mama push a Range Rover\nHad to make sure I got it fully loaded\nCan't be the one and then you get exposed\nIf you the one, then God will let me know\nBut at the same time, I like to vibe with one\nI'm paranoid, I gotta ride with one\nAnd I had to 'splain to her last night\nHad to send this one freak on the last flight\nYou might also like\nHad to send this one freak on the last flight\n\nWon't get a response from me, ain't no confessions\nBefore I tell a lie, won't tell you nothin'\nAny time I got you, girl you my possession\nEven if I hit you once, you part of my collection\nEven if I hit you once, you part of my collection\nEven if I hit you once, you part of my collection\n\nStandin' on Black Sox, meet me at the yacht dock\nIcin' out the clock, watch, bitches on my cock\nYeah, maybe it's the drop, yeah, we get in our feelings, yeah\nI don't know how you would feel about if I ain't have millions, yeah\nI'm conversin' with you, I hope you hear me, yeah\nKeep my promise, take my love with you everywhere\nAnd hell no, it ain't about no braggin' rights\nBut even if it was, shit, I got it\nPinstripes on a hardtop Bugatti\nShe told me she was an angel\nShe fucked two rappers and three singers\nI'ma keep it genuine and tell the truth to you\nI got this jawn, she know what to do with me\nAnd right now I don't know what to do with you\nI don't wanna sound like I'm bein' rude with you\nShe caught a red eye, leavin' L.A\nI shoulda gave her to the valet\nAnd I had to tell her 'bout Miami\nAfter she came with no panty\nWon't get a response from me, ain't no confessions\nBefore I tell a lie, won't tell you nothin'\nAny time I got you, girl you my possession\nEven if I hit you once, you part of my collection\nEven if I hit you once, you part of my collection\nEven if I hit you once, you part of my collection"}
{"text":"Yeah, ain't really mean to hurt you\nSorry it's gotta be this way\nAin't mean to try to desert you\nSorry, tryna be this way\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nSorry it's gotta be that way\nAin't mean to desert you\nSorry that it looked that way\nAin't really tryna hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really tryna hurt you\nSorry it's gotta be that way\nAin't really tryin'\nI ain't really tryin'\n\nI was in the U.K. thinkin', shit don't feel the same\nAddy got me daydreamin', hope I ain't goin' insane\nHard to say you care about me\nWhen this mink draggin' to the floor\nTryna find a PYT, I already got some at home\nI breathe the air she breathes\nIt's hard to breathe on my own\nIt's somethin' 'bout infidelity\nMake me check every single stone\nGotta drink my blood like a Hebrew\n'Cause I've been gettin' fly, since Evisu\nMade her switch sides in Ibiza\nI can get you off in Belgium\nDiamonds shinin' off very seldom\nGrab a couple chickens, then mail them\nTake 'em to the hood, then sell them\nFam come first, you never fail them\nRebellious, always respect my elders\nThat's why I might treat you like I'm careless\nSold crack to a pregnant lady\nForgive me for the crack baby\nIf I open up my eyes, it turn black for real\nPack was too small, I ain't have it vacuum sealed\nWord to Uncle Charles, nigga I got the sack for real\nMoney, broads, lawyers cost a half a mil'\nFame change, the family loves the way it is\nFame change, a ho loves the way I give\nPaid for my mistakes like a drug deal\nPaid for my mistakes like a drug deal\nYou might also like\nYeah, ain't really mean to hurt you\nSorry it's gotta be this way\nAin't mean to try to desert you\nSorry, tryna be this way\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really tryin'\n\nIt can get scary when you legendary\nCaramel complexion, that's a Halle Berry\nCash rules everything around music\nThe game doped up, every nigga usin'\nGrab the fuckin' carbon, hit him with the tool\nI'm not tryna argue, I got issues\nYou see what I've been put up against, baby\nYou see why I've been tryna make the rent, baby\nTryna keep you closer than lint, baby\nDime rose, 'bout to get lynched, baby\nIt's hard to caress you\nAll your bad energy, it's hard to bless you\nCommercial flights gettin' too hectic\nV12 motors, my confession\nTryna identify, you look sketchy\nI'm a real nigga, it's hard to accept me\nYeah, ain't really mean to hurt you\nSorry it's gotta be this way\nAin't mean to try to desert you\nSorry, tryna be this way\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really tryin'\n\nHot tenderoni, Bobby Brown ooh\nShawty so phony, I got somethin' to prove\nWork every day like I got somethin' to lose\nOxycont' got me flown up, nothin' new\nStyrofoam cups, everything is approved\nStyrofoam cups, everything is approved\nMoney stacked up and it got me seduced\nI got that hot dope, but I got that boost though\nAyy, my Lamb hit a pothole\nThese bitches some thot hoes\nI hit the lotto in South Africano\nYacht party, sittin' at the dock of the condo\nBetter not be late, bitch, you better come pronto!\nBetter come with a combo\nAsian persuasion, Cubana, mi ana\nYolanda, Sholanda, Miyana, mi casa\nI don't know Spanish, I barely talk proper\nIt became problems when I didn't send flowers\nKing like Mufasa, messiah, then higher\nGoshies and Rollies, yeah, fuck all the police\nShout out my woadie, he smashin' the C.O\nMy wrist got an ego, my watch in an igloo\nWe took illegal, got stripes like a zebru\nPimp like a rollin' stone, high when I greet you\nDiamonds just fall on you, effortlessly ball on you\nL-O-to-V-E, hope you ain\u2019t get greedy\nChasers do numbers, man chains is on Fiji\nKidnapped your heart 'cause you gave it too easy\nDiamonds on sight is way brighter than Geezy\nShout out to DiDi, got goonies on speedy\nShe like it rated, ain't nothin' 'bout her PG\nI had it, made it, I thought I was jaded\nPersian, Malaysian? Super sensation\nYah, sushi was raw when she got confiscated\nNo invitations, we showed up and made it\nLong as my dawgs here, bitches betrayed me\nPigeons contagious, I shoulda known it\nI turned the pages, heavily sedated\nToo many clone me, too many phonies\nArmani on me, you never warned me\nHow can you blame us when we all out the trenches?\nGold chains and rings, they're so easily gettin' offended\nSpendin' all your show money tryna keep up with my image\nFuck around, take a O from me, and never give a penny\nFuck y'all, I skrrt off, 'cause everything shitty\nI hit my first model, stepped up my pimpin'\nCaught her off the runway, she instantly committed\nPaper got my mind gone, too caught up on my city\nIn and out of time zones, runnin' up a billi'\nIndian Cherokee, clarity, shinin' is therapy\nMami Israeli (Mami Israeli)\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nSorry it's gotta be this way\nAin't mean to try to desert you\nSorry, tryna be this way\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nSorry it's gotta be that way\nAin't mean to desert you\nSorry that it looked that way\nAin't really tryna hurt you\nAin't really mean to hurt you\nAin't really tryna"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easKno the Meaning Lyrics\nMy uncle Ronnie used to wash cars\nMy uncle Wayne was a kingpin, you know what I'm saying?\nMy uncle Don, that nigga used to rob banks and shit, rest in peace\nMy granddaddy was a boss, he was a kingpin, you heard?\n\nGot the game from them old niggas\nYou gotta know where I'm from to get to know a nigga\nI skipped class to smoke weed\nHidin' from the police\nI spent time overseas, hangin' out in England\nAnd I got the squad on my mind and I mean this\nDo a little time out the country, I need this\n56 nights, gotta know the real meanin'\n\nDropped Monster tape and had to go to Europe\n\nBest thing I ever did was fall out of love\n'Sco came to me, said, \"They think you washed up\nYou need to go back in, show these niggas who the one\"\nWe going back in soon as we get off tour\nHe had my hard drive on him when he caught the case\nWhen they took him into custody, they took my life away\nYou might also like\nPeople didn't even understand that\nMy hard drives that I recorded all my music on\nFor two years straight was on this...\nWas on this one hard drive that Esco had\nAnd he was locked up with it\nSo I had to record new music\nThat's when I did Beast Mode\n\nI'm fresh off the plane on them Zaytiggys\nI endured so much pain, ain't got 'Sco with me\nAin't got nobody to smoke one or pour with me\nNiggas rocked the lean, man, when I was OT\nAnd I'm still dealin' with the time they gave Doe B\nHow he gon' catch an armed robbery around me?\nAnd my lifestyle getting way bigger\nI got so much love for my niggas\nBrown paper bag, we gettin' back to the paper\nGettin' back to the basics\nEverything I did, it was premeditated\nI just knew there'd come a time when I finally did make it\nAnd some niggas started hatin'\nI ain't never had no problem with these niggas\nI've been about my guala from the dodo\nGot an R&B chick layin' on me, no photo\nGot a combo in the condo doin' some real life porno\nAnd I ain't worried 'bout nothin' in the world, keep a badass bitch\nThese niggas ain't none of my worries, damn that shit\nThere's so much more I gotta endure\nI just had my baby, gotta go on tour (fuck that shit)\n\nGot the game from them old niggas\nYou gotta know where I'm from to get to know a nigga\nI skipped class to smoke weed\nHidin' from the police\nI spent time overseas, hangin' out in England\nAnd I got the squad on my mind and I mean this\nDo a little time out the country, I need this\n56 nights, gotta know the real meanin'\n\nI ain't holding this back, I ain't holding this\nThe music way ahead of its time and I notice this\nGet back in the studio, give 'em what they was missing\nThey didn't know I knew the game and I know how to reinvent it\nThey ain't know me in the cut, they just know me from rhymin'\nMy hard work finally catchin' up with perfect timin'\n\nYou know what I'm saying\nI could take a hundred dollar slab\nAnd goddamn make three hundred off that bitch, you dig?\nGot the game from them old niggas\nYou gotta know where I'm from to get to know a nigga\nI skipped class to smoke weed\nHidin' from the police\nI spent time overseas, hangin' out in England\nAnd I got the squad on my mind and I mean this\nDo a little time out the country, I need this\n56 nights, gotta know the real meanin'\n\nEverything in the streets\nIt prepared me for everything that I'm going through right now\nThe good and the bad, you know what I'm saying?\nCan't let none of this shit get to me\nI go harder 'cause I know where I was at\nAnd I know where I wanna go"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easT\u00fcrk\u00e7eBlow a Bag Lyrics\nYeah\nI woke up feeling like fucking up some paper\nFreebandz, Freebandz\n\nI blow a bag today, I don't do nothin' fugazi\nI blow a bag today, I walk in the mall and go crazy\nI blow a bag today, hop out the whip on 'em, babe\nI blow a bag today, hop out the whip on 'em, babe\nI blow a bag today, I blow a bag today\nI blow a bag today, Chyna gon' fuck me so crazy\nI blow a bag today, I blow a bag today\nI blow a bag today, I don't do nothin' fugazi\n\nI had a bag today, I blow the bag today\nI had to grab the Wraith, I had to grab the Wraith\nI had to change the safe, I had to change my bitch\nMoney'll change a nigga, the fame'll change a bitch\nI know I came from poverty, I got my name from poverty\nI know for sure, for sure\nIf my granddad was livin', I know he'd be proud of me\nI know for sure, for sure\nIf Snupe was living, I know he'd be proud of me\nI know for sure, for sure\nIf Lonzo was livin', he never would've doubted me\nI know for sure, for sure\nI live with these diamonds, just check out my clarity\nGotta just check out these clarity\nI get so fly like a parachute\nI pull up right now and embarrass you\nI sold the crack on my avenue\nOnly the strong survive\nI'm just enjoying my life\nYou might also like\nI blow a bag today, I don't do nothin' fugazi\nI blow a bag today, I walk in the mall and go crazy\nI blow a bag today, hope out the whip on 'em, babe\nI blow a bag today, hop out the whip on 'em, babe\nI blow a bag today, I blow a bag today\nI blow a bag today, Chyna gon' fuck me so crazy\nI blow a bag today, I blow a bag today\nI blow a bag today, I don't do nothin' fugazi\n\nI ran it up with the same niggas\nGet that money and stay with the same niggas\nI know that money can change niggas\nThey don't look at you like you the same nigga\nI just hope I can remain humble\nHop out a Ghost in the jungle, I did it\nSell all the dope out them apartments, I did it\nI'm 'bout to cut off some niggas I know that ain't with me\nRunnin' with niggas that wanna see niggas\nThat get it and niggas who strive\nAnd the real niggas is all they come across, yeah\nI know either way it goes, Sunny gon' be there\nI know either way it goes, Doe Boy gon' be there (Young Metro!)\nEven when a nigga was broke, Scooter was always there\nI be pourin' up this 4, they thought we wouldn't be here\nI told you, come a time when we had to persevere\nI knew there'd come a time when we'd all be here\nI blow a bag today, I don't do nothin' fugazi\nI blow a bag today, I walk in the mall and go crazy\nI blow a bag today, hop out the whip on 'em, babe\nI blow a bag today, hop out the whip on 'em, babe\nI blow a bag today, I blow a bag today\nI blow a bag today, Chyna gon' fuck me so crazy\nI blow a bag today, I blow a bag today\nI blow a bag today, I don't do nothin' fugazi\n\nFuture Hendrix\nIt's red bottoms when you walk to me\nCome here and talk to me\nYou gon' make me throw the racks on you, baby, ayy"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsLay Up Lyrics\nBeast mode\n(Zaytoven)\n\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (Yeah)\nI passed her off like a layup (A layup)\nI tripled my cups like an addict (On God)\nShe come through late night on them Xannies (On God)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (That action)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (One hundred), yeah\n\nI get that mouth on the regular (Ayy)\nI get more lip than a cellular (Ayy)\nI fuck that pussy on the regular (Savage)\nShe take them Xans on the regular (I swear)\nI'm not so average, un-regular (One hundred)\nI don't do shit if it's regular (One hundred)\nI jump out the whip, it ain't regular (Skrrt)\nI'm flippin' the script, it ain't regular (Let's get it)\nI'm not just a local pedestrian (One hundred)\nI get that work from the Mexicans (I swear)\nI ride with my niggas like Mexicans (I'm up)\nI sell them keys on the regular (I'm up)\nI push start the car, it ain't regular (Freebandz)\nMy watch and my chain ain't regular (Freebandz)\nI smash on your broad on the regular (I swear)\nShe let me m\u00e9nage on the regular\nYou might also like\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (Yeah)\nI passed her off like a layup (A layup)\nI tripled my cups like an addict (On God)\nShe come through late night on them Xannies (On God)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (That action)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (One hundred), yeah\n\nI'm back on them Xannies (Woah)\nI'm back in that action, I'm back in that action\nI'm back with that double cup, now I done tripled up\nBack in Chanel and her bag cost a bale\nI spend that money on the regular (Regular)\nI blow them racks on the regular (One hundred)\nI won't hit that blunt if it's regular (One hundred)\nI got that mouth, it was regular (I swear)\nSmokin' on kush like it's regular (One hundred)\nDrivin' the whip like it's regular (Skrrt)\nTwo hundred a zip and it's Actavis (Skrrt)\nI keep that Planet of the Ape on me (The Ape on me)\nAdd some more shine in the face, homie (The face)\nQuadruple the clarity, yeah, yeah (Rollie)\nI got that bitch on that dope dick (I'm tellin' ya)\nShe said she cummin' like yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (Yeah)\nI passed her off like a layup (A layup)\nI tripled my cups like an addict (On God)\nShe come through late night on them Xannies (On God)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (That action)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (One hundred)\n\nDon't tell me you back in that action (That action)\nDon't tell me you back on them Xannies (One hundred)\nLet's pop up some Vicodin (I wanna)\nLast year we were dead broke, nigga\nOnly God can judge us (God can judge us)\nTake a bar and I love it (A bar and I love it)\nOn a bar and I love it (A bar and I love it)\nI want that money for sure, sure (One hundred)\nI go to work on a pink toe (One hundred)\nShe go to work at a Pink Pony (One hundred)\nShe came out the ceiling, no clothes on (No clothes)\nI hit her hood with them clothes on me (Clothes)\nA gram of that good have your nose runnin' (Your nose)\nI fucked her so good, had her nose runnin' (Her nose runnin')\nIt's cold in the hood like a nose run (A nose run)\nI put her flat on her back, yeah (Yeah, yeah)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (Yeah)\nI passed her off like a layup (A layup)\nI tripled my cups like an addict (On God)\nShe come through late night on them Xannies (On God)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (That action)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (One hundred)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (So what?)\nI fuck on that bitch and we lay up (Yeah)\nI passed her off like a layup (A layup)\nI tripled my cups like an addict (On God)\nShe come through late night on them Xannies (On God)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (That action)\nDon't tell me you back in that action (One hundred), yeah\n\nOn God, on God\nThat action, one hundred"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsYou da Baddest Lyrics\nTen thousand miles up in the sky\nWe never land 'cause we stay fly\nI'ma be your bitch for life\nIf they try you, they gotta die\nBaby, put one in the sky\nWhat we got, they can't deny\nPut your diamonds in the light\nAnd let 'em see you shine bright\n\nFuck them hoes\nHold up, wait one minute\nHold up, wait one minute\nHold up, wait one minute\nYo, hold up, wait one more\nYou know you the baddest baby, fuck them hoes\nFuck them hoes, fuck them hoes\nWe on a different planet girl, it's fuck them hoes\nFuck them hoes, fuck them hoes\n\nPercocets and molly make you touch your toe\nI keep the conversation open for my hoe\nSnapchat that pussy, don't you take too long\nTrampoline, titties, girl, they bouncin', yeah\nYou might also like\nAll these diamonds on me, how could I tell you no?\nYou got one leg in the air, tap it like you broke\nSweating out your weave, girl, fuck that hoe\nGirl, you ain't gotta leave, we gon' fuck this hoe\nPercocets and molly's make you touch your toe\nBeen in this bitch so long, I'm going up a dose\nPussy got more murders than New Mexico\nBust it open wide and let that ocean flow\nMoney be the motive, baby, fuck them hoes\nYou know why you did it, baby, fuck them hoes\nTell them crackers \"fuck 'em\", we don't love them hoes\nTh-they don't want no problems, baby, fuck them hoes\n\nWe know you the baddest baby, fuck them hoes\nFuck them hoes, fuck them hoes\nWe on a different planet girl, fuck them hoes\nFuck them hoes, fuck them hoes\n\nYo, yo\nWait, wait, wait, hold up, wait\nStevie to the bull like where's MJ? Where's MJ?\nDon't come around with that weird energy, weird energy\nBitch, I got that 25 karats on my Patek, I'm ecstatic\nGot them blue diamonds dancing in my party, democratic\nI never lose nothing but, damn, I done had it\nI ain't never strike out, they can't average what I batted, no\nIf she hatin', tell that bitch to let it go\nTruly rude boy, truly rude\nTruly rude boy, truly rude\nTruly rude boy, truly rude\nTruly rude boy, truly rude\n\nPercocets and molly's make you touch your toe\nBeen in this bitch so long, I'm going up a dose\nPussy got more murders than New Mexico\nBust it open wide and let that ocean flow\n\nWe know you the baddest baby, fuck them hoes\nFuck them hoes, fuck them hoes\nWe on a different planet girl, fuck them hoes\nFuck them hoes, fuck them hoes\nWe know you the baddest baby, fuck them hoes\nFuck them hoes, fuck them hoes\nWe on a different planet girl, fuck them hoes\nFuck them hoes, fuck them hoes\n\nOooh, la-la-la-la-la-la\nLa-la-la-la-la-la\nOooh, la-la-la-la-la-la\nLa-la-la-la-la-la\nGot about a thousand upon my side\nWe out here hustlin', risking our life\nFill cocaine up in your tights\nWe had to make it across the line\nDamn near didn't make it through them nights\nI watch the bloody tears fall from your eye\nYou just wanna live a nigga life\nSittin' in a helicopter, I can touch the sky\n\nFuck them hoes\nJust fuck them hoes"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsNever Gon Lose Lyrics\nYeah\nThis bitch from Australian and I'm an alien\n(808 Mafia)\n\nI sip out a cup of this shit, it's so muddy, but I love it, baby\nWhen I jump out the whip, when I hop out the whip then I'm fresh in the latest\nI do what I want, and I smoke 'til I'm faded\nI drink 'til I pass out, I wake up and drink up again\nI pour up again and again\nI said I wasn't gonna fuck with that bitch, then I fucked her again\nI scream out the gutter in the sewer, the streets turned a boy to a man\nI nodded off with that Ruger, I took your bitch to Aruba\nShe fuck with Super 'cause she got that super\nWhen I say super, that's young Super Future\nWe never gon' lose, we never gon' lose\n\nNever gon' lose 'cause these bitches gon' choose\nThese bitches gon' be who they is\nWalkin' and talkin' like classy\nYou a ho to your heart, you a ho to your heart\nYou know I'll be workin' that boy, I'ma pour it\nServin' that boy out the back of the yard\nFuck on your ho, I'm just playin' my cards\nWhip after whip put up in the garage\nSip on the lean like a fifth of the dark\nHop in the Spur, then might hop in the Porsche\nTelly then rally and gather the squad\nYeah, girl eat the squad\nMe and my niggas so mothafuckin' tight\nYou can't even tell us apart\nFuck a bitch every single damn night\nAin't nothin' but an avatar\nValet the car on the curb like I'm swervin' on alcohol\nGet to poppin' them Percocets and Xanax like they some Tylenol\nI remember nights in Europe sayin' we ain't fallin' off\nI'm on a lot of green, we gotta have some green\nWhen I hit the plane and I board it\nI got a magazine with no Visine\nJust ridin' around with this .40\nShe gon' thug for me, she gon' thug for me\nIn Ohio, that's my shorty\nWe ain't playin' around\nThese diamond rings gon' go upside your noggin\nYou see they try sabotage me, then copy\nThey wasn't playin' fair no-no, no-no, no-no\nBitch is a bozo, she clown in the photos\nWe sell that coco, you talkin' to po-po\nYou know that's a no, though, you know that's a no-no\nKnow that's a no-no, no-no-no, no-no-no\nCame at the door, pour, serve out the paddy door\nBitch I'm your man and your daddy, ho\nPanty droppers had no panties on\nBitch, you steppin' in, no panties on\nBack with these stallions\nBack-to-back, back, back-to-back with these stallions\nLike she trunk after trunk, I just carry on\nGot the sack on me, now I just carry it\nGot some M's in New Orleans, I buried it\nFor the cash and some M's, I'll marry it\nSee the way they just jumped on the bandwagon\nWent bought a G-Wagen\nFifty-six nights, I had to get at it\nMayweather, Pacquiao, nigga, we still at it\nGet up and get at it, guns like I'm Bin Laden\nYou might also like\nI sip out a cup of this shit, it's so muddy, but I love it, baby\nWhen I jump out the whip, when I hop out the whip then I'm fresh in the latest\nI do what I want, and I smoke 'til I'm faded\nI drink 'til I pass out, I wake up and drink up again\nI pour up again and again\nI said I wasn't gonna fuck with that bitch, then I fucked her again\nI scream out the gutter and the sewer, the streets turned a boy to a man\nI nodded off with that Ruger, I took your bitch to Aruba\nShe fuck with Super 'cause she got that super\nWhen I say super, that's young Super Future\nWe never gon' lose, we never gon' lose\n\nWoo\nThese bitches gon' choose\nWe never gon' lose"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsKarate Chop Lyrics\nYou know\nThis just some real nigga shit, a real nigga story\nYou know what I'm saying?\nThis beat is so, so Metro\n\nSlang a bunch of narcotics\nPull up in a new 'Rari\nLiving like John Gotti\nChopping bricks like karate\nDrink a bunch of codeine\nServing to the dope fiends\nBlowing money, stay clean\nMichael Jackson, Billie Jean\n\nGot a Panamera 'round a young nigga neck\nGot a young bitch pulling up in a 'Vette\nSmoke a lot of kush & I have a lot of sex\nHad to beat the grind up, ran up my check\nPicture nigga getting money, nigga, get back (back)\nRoll a blunt of chronic, nigga sell a lot of crack (crack)\nYou can hit a nigga line, order what you want\nI can whip a Maserati, pulling up a donk (donk)\n50 thousand on yo watch, young nigga, splurge (splurge)\nPop a Ace of Spade bottle, sip a lot of syrup (syrup)\nKeep a young nigga workin' that'll bust a K (K)\nI'ma take a phone call, hustle everyday (everyday)\nYou might also like\nAyy\nSlang a bunch of narcotics\nPull up in a new 'Rari (Yea)\nLiving like John Gotti (The mob)\nChopping bricks like karate (Chwaaa, chwaaa)\nDrink a bunch of codeine (Drank)\nServing to the dope fiends (They smokers)\nBlowing money, stay clean (Freebandz)\nMichael Jackson, Billie Jean\n\nWhipping up a cake, just to go and snatch a Spyder (Spyder)\nYoung nigga play with keys (keys), like a type writer\nAl Capone, John Gotti was a nigga idol\nI was never snitching, I can put it on the Bible\nIn a four-door Bimmer, driving with a rifle\nNigga, where you at? (at) nigga, we gon' pull up on ya\nYoung bitch looking like Janet in the '80s ('80s)\nWe was grinding up from two and a baby (oh)\nGot the girl dripping wet like a jerry curl (curl)\nGot a styrofoam cup and it's full of syrup\nSend it over from Lil' Mexico and let me work (lets work)\nI can get 36 for a clean shirt (shirt)\n\nAyy\nSlang a bunch of narcotics\nPull up in a new 'Rari (Yea)\nLiving like John Gotti (The mob)\nChopping bricks like karate (Chwaaa, chwaaa)\nDrink a bunch of codeine (Drank)\nServing to the dope fiends (They smokers)\nBlowing money, stay clean (Freebandz)\nMichael Jackson, Billie Jean (Who bad?)\nPull up, serve you in my 'Rari\nMoney like I'm Frank Matthews\nKillers around me like I'm Gotti\nIf I tricked you, know I'm sorry\nI be fresh, don't need no stylist\nI be geeking on them Mollies\nSell remix, don't sell no clean\nMy hand like a triple beam\nI got workers like machine\nAll I do is sell dreams\nHalf my niggas serve fiends\nI get up and then I lean\n\nAyy\nSlang a bunch of narcotics\nPull up in a new 'Rari (Yea)\nLiving like John Gotti (The mob)\nChopping bricks like karate (Chwaaa, chwaaa)\nDrink a bunch of codeine (Drank)\nServing to the dope fiends (They smokers)\nBlowing money, stay clean (Freebandz)\nMichael Jackson, Billie Jean"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsNews or Something Lyrics\nYou know how we be rocking, ya heard\n\nBright light shining all bright on the Bentley\nWork the Cadillac, panoramic, no panties\nOld school Chevy '55 granddaddy\nGotta throw some salt on it, 'cause you know I'm getting at it\nThrow the fork on it, then put it in traffic\nThrow the sauce on it, got it flying out of Dallas\nHope you didn't do it to yourself, that's tragic\nHope you didn't throw away what we established\nHope you wouldn't turn your back on your family\nThe way a nigga look 'round here, they'll back stab you\nWord from your motherfucking brother, young nigga\nI just wanna see you happy, I just wanna see you happy\nComing through the cut like a known Grim Reaper\n'Bout to get it straight finessed, tryna get a little cheaper\nHold on to that clip like a doped up needle\nGirl hang on that strip with a four Desert Eagle\n\nKnown to put a bad little bitch in some red bottoms\nAyy, where ya mans at? Heard that the feds got 'em\nI seen you cruise the Land Rover through the west side\nGold Rolex, better check your peripheral\nIt's a full moon in the middle of the day\nGot them wolves out, rock a little Cartier\nGot the trap jammed packed like The Masquerade\nKnow a few real ones ain't gon' see they next birthday\nTell them young niggas grind\n'Fore you gon' knock someone down\nIf they gon' shoot, then shoot something\nWe better hear 'bout this shit on the news or something\nWe better hear 'bout this shit on the news or something\nMan down over yonder\nYoung came through holding on the cane like a drummer\nThey done took a boss out nigga, no wonder\nNiggas getting crossed out nigga, no wonder\nHoes getting X'd out and we on ganja\nThe police wanna talk, but we won't say nothing\nTrue to these clips, niggas won't say nothing\nNiggas' true to these clips, niggas won't say nothing\nYou might also like\nHad the Parkay jumping out the Pyrex\nHigh definition glass on my pinky finger\nNiggas swimming in the water, no paddle\nNiggas trying to walk in my shadow\nThe bird on the bezel, I'm a well known rebel\nTold a young nigga Freebandz, Roc-A-Fella\nTold a young nigga Freebandz, Roc-A-Fella\nYou can turn this off and I can kick it acapella\nWe work the Front Street where Mama said, \"Don't go\"\u2014we went there\nTrap house embalmed with that crack, then we went there\nShawty don't fuck with these folks\nThese niggas be telling these days, be telling these days\n\nKnown to put a bad little bitch in some red bottoms\nAyy, where ya mans at? Heard that the feds got 'em\nI seen you cruise the Land Rover through the west side\nGold Rolex, better check your peripheral\nIt's a full moon in the middle of the day\nGot them wolves out, rock a little Cartier\nGot the trap jammed packed like The Masquerade\nKnow a few real ones ain't gon' see they next birthday\nTell them young niggas grind\n'Fore you gon' knock someone down\nIf they gon' shoot, then shoot something\nWe better hear 'bout this shit on the news or something\nWe better hear 'bout this shit on the news or something\nMan down over yonder\nYoung came through holding on the cane like a drummer\nThey done took a boss out nigga, no wonder\nNiggas getting crossed out nigga, no wonder\nHoes getting X'd out and we on ganja\nThe police wanna talk, but we won't say nothing\nTrue to these clips, niggas won't say nothing\nNiggas' true to these clips, niggas won't say nothing\n"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsMy Savages Lyrics\nI be on the phone with Doe Boy, I be telling him\nHe inspired me to go harder\nYou know what I'm saying? Real talk\nWill-Will-Will-William\n\nMy savages, my savages, my savages\nI'm always dressing fresher than a mannequin\nI grew up in a ruthless ass environment\nI'm on the phone with Yo, I ask him how the trial went\nThirty-five racks is how my day was spent\nI gotta cock it back, that's how my day would get\nYou got me thinking all these bitches artificial\nThe way you acting, you must don't respect a real nigga\nRoll some herb up, pour some syrup up\nThey tried to infiltrate us and then betrayed us\nI told you way before what happened, they was hating on us\nYou know when we was jugging for it they was mad at us\nAyy, this a letter for my dawgs, how we let the money get between us?\nHow we let these bitches get between us?\nHow we let these niggas get between us?\nI got love for all my savages with itchy fingers\nI got love but it ain't like the love I got for India\nShe held me down when I was broke, I got her to infinity\nMy lil' dawg caught a murder, gone for infinity\nDumping ashes on your obituary, I know you feeling me\nR.I.P. my granddad Quick, he should have seen this shit\nTwenty thousand on some child support, I seen this shit\nRiding around with all them choppers, I done seen this shit\nThese rappers mad at me, but these niggas ain't doing shit\nAnd I just bought a pound of kush so I can smoke that shit\nI went and spent a half a ticket at the dealership\nThe fame is doing a lot of damage to my friendships\nIf Esco didn't love me, would've been done jumped ship\nAnd it's the love from my fans got me still here\nYou might also like\nMonster, ah\nSay I'm Illuminati\nThey tryna make me catch a body\n\nI don't know when I'ma flip, nigga\nGet me some codeine and sip, nigga\nBig Bank saying wipe a nigga's nose\nMy girl changed the lock on the doors\nSaid fuck that shit, poured up a four\nAin't falling in love with no ho\nThat what you want for me?\nThat what you really expect?\nYou thinking I'm sitting up depressed?\nI'm somewhere countin' up me a check\nI hate I had to fuck with any of you niggas, that's my only regret\nDrag the mink on the floor\nPut Cuban links on my ho\nTen whips in a row, who would think we were poor?\nWho would think we was poor?\nThere's money laying on the floor\nGot some hoes laying on some hoes\nGot lil' shawty with me, she a pro\nKnow she'll never meet another nigga, not another nigga like me\nEven if he got a billion dollars, he can't make her cum like me\nWho compliment you like me? It better be about an image\nTell me all of this a gimmick, they thought the whips got rented\nBecause the Spur wasn't tinted, I told 'em ain't got nothing to hide\nTold 'em I'm through with the pies\nTold 'em fuck all of my wrongs, I don't even write\nMy savages, my savages, my savages\nWe gon' leave a nigga stiffer than a mannequin\nFree all my niggas incarcerated, you heard me?\nLoyal for life, you heard?\nFreeband Gang\nWe global now"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsPIE Lyrics\nPie (Ooh, pie)\nPie, pie (Oh-woo, pie)\nPie, pie (Yeah, ooh, pie)\nPie, pie (Pie)\nMake her sorry, you should know (Ooh)\nThat kinda chick'll never be alone (Yeah-yeah)\nMake her sorry, you should know (Ooh)\nYou're so, so full, you let your side go (Haha)\n\nI turned the side piece to a nine-piece (Oh, yeah, ah!)\nShe out lyin', it shouldn't even matter, she mine (Oh, yeah)\nI told her, \"Baby, fuck it up one time\" (Fuck it up)\nBa-baby, fuck it up one time\nI turned the side piece to a nine-piece (Yeah, ooh)\nShe out lyin' (Ha), it shouldn't even matter, she mine (Yeah, ooh, oh, yeah)\nI told her, \"Baby, fuck it up one time\" (One time)\nBa-baby, fuck it up one time (Ooh-ooh)\n\nBaby, fuck it up\nIt's your birthday, go 'head, put that cake on me\nCommas and zeros, I'll be your hero, ain't no cape on me (No cape)\nAll you niggas lame, I ain't gotta pay (Shit)\nYou know talk is cheap\nAin't talkin' money, ain't no conversatin' (Gang)\nI've been leanin' all day, I'm faded\nAnd she been fiendin' all day, but can't take dick (Haha, ooh)\nSippin' out a two-liter, put an eight in it\nWhite linen on my pillow, put her face in it\nBaby, fuck it up and do what you like\nAll these drugs in my body got me seein' double\nM\u00e9nage \u00e0 trois, double trouble (Oh, yeah)\n(This should be fun)\nYou might also like\nI turned the side piece to a nine-piece (Ooh)\nShe out lyin' (Ha), it shouldn't even matter, she mine (Yeah, ooh, oh, yeah)\nI told her, \"Baby, fuck it up one time\" (Fuck it up)\nBa-baby, fuck it up one time (Ooh-ooh)\n\nGassin' up on lean and good Percs (And good)\nLapdance, gettin' pie on my t-shirt (On my t-shirt)\nShe know how to fuck, yeah (Yeah)\nShe ain't lookin' for true love here (Yeah)\nLet her see a million (Mil', oh, yeah), she don't wanna go (Yikes!)\nI roll a hundred deep, we like sharin' hoes (Sharin' hoes)\nCaviar on your plate, girl, wipe your nose (Fuck it up)\nOut of chance, find you three-six-oh\n\nI turned the side piece to a nine-piece (Oh, yeah, ah!)\nShe out lyin', it shouldn't even matter, she mine (Oh, yeah)\nI told her, \"Baby, fuck it up one time\" (Fuck it up)\nBa-baby, fuck it up one time\nI turned the side piece to a nine-piece (Yeah, ooh)\nShe out lyin' (Ha), it shouldn't even matter, she mine (Yeah, ooh, oh, yeah)\nI told her, \"Baby, fuck it up one time\" (One time)\nBa-baby, fuck it up one time (Ooh-ooh)\nShe could never be loyal (Loyal)\nBut she's so fine (She's so fine)\nShe gon' make a nigga spoil her (Spoil her)\nJust to keep her on the side (On the side)\nI just want to taste her water (Taste her water)\nLet's stay hydrated (Hydrated)\nGirl, I got a main thing at the house (Number one)\nTell me, can you stay down?\n\nI turned the side piece to a nine-piece (Oh, yeah, ah!)\nShe out lyin' (Ha), it shouldn't even matter, she mine (Yeah, ooh, oh, yeah)\nI told her, \"Baby, fuck it up one time\" (Fuck it up)\nBa-baby, fuck it up one time\nI turned the side piece to a nine-piece (Yeah, ooh)\nShe out lyin' (Ha), it shouldn't even matter, she mine (Yeah, ooh, oh, yeah)\nI told her, \"Baby, fuck it up one time\" (One time)\nBa-baby, fuck it up one time (Ooh-ooh)"}
{"text":"Super!\nThey go crazy, yeah\nThey comin' in and out, in and out, in and out\nTrap spot boomin'\n\nGot the money comin' in, it ain't no issues\nI just fucked a rapper bitch, I should diss you\nGot the MAC-11 cocked, it got the kick too\nServin' niggas like Doughbeezy in my house shoes\nYa baby mama fuck me better when the rent's due\nI just fucked a rapper bitch, I should diss you\nShe sucked my dick, she came home, I bet she kissed you\n\nTreat me like I'm Al Capone, nigga, fuck you\nJohn Gotti, Illuminati, nigga, fuck you\nI put a middle finger up, because, fuck you\nThis money got me geekin' up, nigga, fuck you\nRed bottoms with the fur like Frank Luc\nI bought some VVS and she caught the chain flu\nI fucked this R&B bitch, I should thank you\nYah, I was sippin' my codeine from the beginnin'\nShe jocked my whole team, she seen who's winnin'\nWe light Liv up on a Sunday, come see us livin'\nThis for my dogs on the one way in penitentiaries\nSend a direct hit, you gotta pay attention\nI just lit my wrist up, I need some more attention\nShe didn't wanna play fair, I put her on suspension\nI put a ki on Greyhound now I'm in a new dimension\nOffered her 25, keep tryin' to take some of my percentage\nI was petrified, you know my right wrist authentic\nI get glorified, that Richard Mille cost 250\nI'm a big dog, it ain't no sense in holdin' back\nOn my Usain Bolt shit, I ran up in yo' set\nFuckin' with them strippers all in G5ive\nAnd as soon as the club closed we board the G5\nI got scammers and junkies lined up on each side\nI got five percent tint on each side\nI tried to make it outta school on the East Side\nI'm on my Nicky Barnes shit, so it's fuck school\nI'm blowin' money real fast like Big Meech crew\nI like my hundreds stacked up, I like \u2018em neat too\nThey come in stuck together when they in the wrap still\nI fucked a rapper bitch, I was on a drug deal\nI fucked a rapper bitch, I was on a drug deal\nYou might also like\nGot the money comin' in, it ain't no issues\nI just fucked a rapper bitch, I should diss you\nGot the MAC-11 cocked, it got the kick too\nServin' niggas like Doughbeezy in my house shoes\nYa baby mama fuck me better when the rent's due\nI just fucked a rapper bitch, I should diss you\nShe sucked my dick, she came home, I bet she kissed you\nI fucked this R&B bitch, I should thank you\n\nThem bricks coming in like the John Doe crew\nThey put a number on your head, they tryna stank you\nI'm \u2018bout to take \u2018em out the game, nigga fuck you\nThey got me goin' insane, now it's fuck you\nI let my brother fuck your bitch, he got the dog food\nI damn near get half a ticket for a walk through\nI fuck dem Super Bowl bitches down in Houston\nI got this Westside freakin' like boostin'\nI built my empire up like Lucious\nAyy gimme pounds, gimme bricks, I'm a nuisance\nI make the blogs with ya bitch 'cause I'm ruthless\nI make the blogs with ya bitch 'cause I'm ruthless\nYah, I get cash money like I'm Mack Maine\nI just put a rapper bitch on game\nI be smokin' rapper weed with my gang\nI just slam dunked ya bitch, hall of fame\nGot the money comin' in, it ain't no issues\nI just fucked a rapper bitch, I should diss you\nGot the MAC-11 cocked, it got the kick too\nServin' niggas like Doughbeezy in my house shoes\nYa baby mama fuck me better when the rent's due\nI just fucked a rapper bitch, I should diss you\nShe sucked my dick, she came home, I bet she kissed you\nI fucked this R&B bitch, I should thank you\n\nNigga, with yo loud ass, bruh\nYo, what's going on E\nThe Big Frank Dog\nI know you be trippin', bruh\nI just got this lil, god damn, hoe with me, bruh\nLet me get a gram right quick; smoke that hoe out, right quick\nA gram? Man, if you don't get yo ass up outta here, nigga\nGet that nigga ass up outta here, man\nNigga talkin' about he want a gram\nWhat, you wanna Grammy?\nBoy, you trippin'; you trippin', bruh\nLet me leave with a bag, then, I'm good for it\nYou a goddamn fool; I can't do nothin' with no god damn $10\nGet yo ass on outta here, man\nTry to come up here for no damn gram, nigga\nThat's candy money nigga\nA gram!?"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easSolo Lyrics\nTalk to me\n\nI don't wanna let you down, I don't wanna let you down\nI don't wanna let you down, I don't wanna let you down\n\nYou see how we living, yeah\nI'm tryna keep it as simple as possible\nYou know what I do\nHa-ha\n\nGet you Gucci on sight, yeah, Rollies on ice, yeah\nGet first class flights, yeah, ride it like a bike, yeah\nGet a brand new Wag, ayy, be quiet, don't brag, hey\nNever pump gas, hey, nigga, keep it on task, yeah\nPeelin' off, flex, hey, keep it on track, hey\nFussin' and fightin', yeah, fuckin' all night, ayy\nGotta make it count, yeah, love it when it bounce, yeah\nGirl that's tight, yeah, you do whatever you like, yeah\nGucci on sight, yeah, Rollie on ice, yeah\nTake my advice, ayy, live a better life\n\nYou got maids right now, you got it made right now\nI won't let you down, I won't let you down\nLike 4 right now, it's like 4 right now\nLike 4 right now, it's like 4 AM right now\nWe can't be too discrete, niggas gon' know right now\nGot my name too big, everybody know right now\nI enjoyed our time, we been on the low for a while\nI been solo now, I've been going solo now\nYou might also like\nTwenty ounce steaks, hey, can't fit it on the plate\nJumbo shrimp, hey, straight out of the lake, hey\nSleeping on the boat, ayy, wake up, take dope, ayy\nYou don't want no smoke, nigga don't want no starch, ayy\nWe gon' put it on the hood, ayy, before we put it on God, hey, ayy\n\nYou got maids right now, you got it made right now\nI won't let you down, I won't let you down\nLike 4 right now, it's like 4 right now\nLike 4 right now, it's like 4 AM right now\nWe can't be too discrete, niggas gon' know right now\nGot my name too big, everybody know right now\nI enjoyed our time, we been on the low for a while\nI been solo now, I've been going solo now\n\nSolo now\nE-everybody know right now\nI've been going solo now\n\nBands on your tags, woo, ain't got bags, woo\nI won't let you down, bet I won't let you down\nBands on your tags, woo, ain't got bags, woo\nI won't let you down, bet I won't let you down\nI don't wanna let you down, I don't wanna let you down\nI don't wanna let you down, I don't wanna let you down\nI don't wanna let you down, I don't wanna let you down\nI don't wanna let you down, I don't wanna let you down, no way\nI don't wanna let you down, I don't wanna let you down\nI don't wanna let you down, I don't wanna let you down\n\nNiggas gon' know right now\nEverybody know right now\nWe been on the low for a while\nI been going solo now\nThank you for your time"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsTranslationsEnglish\u0939\u093f\u0928\u094d\u0926\u0940Future Ft. Drake - I\u2019M ON ONE (T\u00fcrk\u00e7e \u00c7eviri)*Portugu\u00easI\u2019M ON ONE Lyrics\nHol' up, wait\nThat's that bitch\n(Torey, I know what to do with it)\nThat's that gas, that global high\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nI'm on one, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nI'm on one, I'm on one\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nI'm on one, I'm on one\n\nMy lil' one sprayed the clip and threw his arm out of place\nWe too damn rich to worry 'bout a murder case\nTellin' on yourself is the only way you wanna escape\nCall me Michael Phelps for swimmin' in your bitch face\nPop a Adderall so I can focus, count this cake\nSkinny nigga, but my pockets out of shape\nATL nigga, all the cars California plates\nFight for my niggas, they gon' g\u0435t it brack-brackin'\n4 Tray gangsters, they gon' get it crack-crackin'\nABK gon' walk a nigga down, straightjack\u0435t\nNiggas go psychotic 'bout this shit, ain't just rappin'\nNiggas pullin' robberies in this bitch, we ain't just trappin'\nIf another body drop, the feds might just snatch me\nMan down, I'ma be overseas when it happen\nWord around town, got them Ps in the attic\nI'm applyin' pressure in the field, John Madden\nHundred thou' vacuumed sealed up, I'm just stackin' it\nFinessin' is a sport, caught me a yellow one like Fabolous\nFour-twenty-five, two stone, check the clarity\nYou might also like\nI'm on one, I'm on one, yeah\nHold up, slow down, wait, catch up (Catch up)\nI'm on one, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nI'm on one, I'm on one\nI got a different type of body built\n(Ayy)\n\nAll my hoes rockin' Audemar (Hold up)\nAll my hoes rockin' Rollie, Audemar, Patek (Hold up)\nBustdown thotiana, bustdown thotiana\nBust down a thotty with a bustdown, yeah\nI hate bein' in my feels, I hate twenty dollar bills\nWe too famous to be goin' on no drills, nah, for real\nNever been up to my record label, never knew the deal\nSaid she wanna see the world and she tired of sittin' still\nI'ma take her ass to Paris, fuck her on that Ferris wheel\nTake her to see Cristiano, fuck her in that Benz Viano\nChampions League shit, there'll be a driver for you on arrival\nWhen I finally see ya, all I wanna see is\nRight hand, right knee, left hand, left knee\nMake that ass wave, make that ass jet-ski, what\nI don't know why the fuck niggas tryna test me, what\nI'm just all about my goals like Ovechkin, what\nI'm just all about my goals like I'm Messi, what\nBein' messy, shit do not impress me, what\nI could never be your man, I'm your bestie, what\nAnd I never liked you niggas, so don't text me\nI'm on one, I'm on one (Okay, okay)\nOutside my body, I'm on one (Okay, okay)\nYeah, hold up, wait, slow down, catch up (Okay, okay)\nYeah\n\nAll my hoes rockin' Audemar\nAll my hoes rockin' Rollie, Audemar, Patek\nBustdown thotiana, bustdown thotiana\nBust down a thotty with a bustdown\nOkay, okay\nGrrr"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsSh!t (Remix) Lyrics\nAyy!\nAyy!\nDJ Esco!\nAyy!\nAyy!\n(Ear Drummers)\n(Mike WiLL Made-It)\nAyy!\nThe coolest DJ in the world!\nAyy!\nAyy!\nAyy!\nShit!\n\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit\nAll you talk 'nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit\nSpending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit\n\nTook niggas out the hood like I'm from there\nSo you know it's all good when I come there\nI hear you talk about your city like you run that\nAnd I brought my tour to your city, you my son there, nigga\nBut I had to come through for the remix\nOn my haven\u2019t-done-a-verse-in-eight-weeks shit\nAnd if a nigga say my name, he the hot shit\nBut if I say the nigga name, he still the hot shit\nFucked up, lucky I don't feed into the gossip\nNiggas act like they don't know, but they should know\nYeah, I just think it's funny how they dangling the bait\nBut I'm the one that's killing niggas on the hooks, though\nAnd niggas ain't got a grill, still ice-grill hating\nI know y'all already know Mike Will Made It\nJust looking at the numbers, nigga, I feel amazing\nI'll call Michael Jordan up and Mike will make it\nI'm the young rap nigga with the 'Melo deal\nYou need to come to OVO for a better deal\nJust know a million ain't shit once you get a mil'\nAnd niggas say it\u2019s all good\nThat\u2019s how you better feel, nigga, nah!\nFuck that, this year I'm talking big stuff\nRolling through the city like a young nigga bricked up\nFuck niggas gon' be fuck niggas\nThat's why we never gave a fuck\nWhen a fuck nigga switched up, damn!\nYou might also like\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit\nAll you talk 'nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit\nSpending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags (Shit!), nigga, you ain't bought shit (Shit!)\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles (Shit!), nigga, you ain't popped shit (Shit!)\nAll you talk 'Nana clips (Shit!), nigga, you ain't shot shit (Shit!)\nSpending money on these hoes (Shit!), nigga, you ain't fuck shit (Shit!)\nMike-Will Made It! Let's get it! (Ma-fi-UH!)\n\nIf money talk then your pockets ain't saying shit\nI'm in the bathroom getting head from yo' bitch\nAnd I ain't paying her shit\nYou want beef? You don't know who you playing with (Hey!)\nI tell my pilot to land the jet (Hey!)\nI'm hopping off, get 'em, we popping off (Hey!)\nGive a click and you niggas dead where you standing at (Hey!)\nI'm just a trippy nigga smoking on cabbage\nYour money funny like Jim Carrey\nI got a bitch and she super bad like Halle\nAnd we still keeping that white like Barry\nI'm a rich nigga, still keep a pistol with me\nNigga, you ain't fuckin' with a picture of me\nI got all this cake and shooters with me\nJust in case you pussy niggas try to get you a piece\nWhat it is, my nigga? What it's hittin' for? (Hey!)\nWhere the car you were whippin' in you video? (Hey!)\nWhere the ice at, nigga? Where them pretty hoes? (Hey!)\nYou a fraud, real niggas already know (Hey!)\nBroke-ass niggas, I can't stand 'em (Hey!)\nI hit 'em with the cannon\nI'm buying off the mall at random (Hey!)\nJuicy J, that nigga fresh to death (Hey!)\nSmoke it 'til it's nothing left\nPeel off, then I'm ghost in my Phantom\nTalkin' 'bout you poppin' tags, nigga, you ain't bought shit\nTalkin' 'bout a hunnid bottles, nigga, you ain't popped shit\nAll you talk 'nana clips, nigga, you ain't shot shit\nSpending money on these hoes, nigga, you ain't fuck shit"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsNever Stop Lyrics\nI will never stop, never stop\nKeep goin', keep goin'\nOh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah\n\nI make Yeezy Boost moves in my Reeboks\nIt ain't gon' never stop\nTryna run a billion up until my ankle pop, yeah\nYou'll get rich and have problems that you never thought\nIt bring tears knowin' we came up out the sandbox\n(Bringin' tears to my eyes)\nMade it out the trenches, it got harder for my niggas\nI just wanna see my dawgs ball, seven figures\nI done got rich and it cursed me\nEver since I got successful, they envy\nTryna shake the devil, on promethazine\nTryna show you love but you don't feel me\nGave up on me so you turned your back\nI can see the demons 'cause a nigga been blessed\nI can tell you worried, but a nigga been in debt\nI can't get caught up inside the matter\nI should've did better, but it's chatter\nI ran up my money off the gravel\nLove is just a word, it don't matter to me\nI got so rich, nothing matters to me\nI'm livin' my second life, it's so amazin'\nI done been hit with a bullet, and one grazed me\nI done been considered a failure, it don't faze me\nI done came up out the ghetto, my crib gated\nSame niggas played with the devil, these niggas hatin'\nAll these bitches fuck with no rubbers, this shit brazy\nIcy-ed out the Hublot, these niggas lookin' fugazi (Yeah)\nMoney stack tall past the ceilin', I can't be jaded\nI done came from sleepin' on floors, you can't persuade me (Yeah)\nI been takin' other niggas' hoes, it's gettin' outrageous (True story)\nRich nigga gettin' caught with a bitch worth minimum wages (Pluto)\nFuckin' with my ego, but I never lost a lady (Facts)\nFucked a pop star after I got my dreads braided\nNever dropped her name but her head game contagious (No cap)\nTwenty percent of my dames, I shipped 'em right out to Vegas (Gone)\nYou can feel the pain when I'm rappin' 'cause I'm ragin' (Wizard)\nYou can see my past and where I was on they faces (Weak)\nI done flipped the truck over and crashed, ducked the agents (Facts)\nI been with these blue hundreds like a nigga racist (Freebandz)\nI been gettin' richer each year, feel like I'm racin' (Gone)\nTried to tell you the formula but you wouldn't take it\nHard work and perseverance, they ain't related (Ain't related)\nPoppin' up on Forbes is fuckin' up my relations (Fuckin' up my family)\nTen milli' plus on a crib and it's vacant (Woo)\nI can see it vividly at the crib, Rico basement  (Woo)\nWatch him get the mula, I was sittin' back bein' patient (I was bein' patient)\nI was sittin' back, programmin' my brain, I was in trainin' (Yeah)\nI be in my coupe, Maybach, and I ain't have to trade it (Skrrt-skrrt)\nThinkin' 'bout when I was posted up when they raided (Swear I was)\nNow I Double R and Ghost it up, I feel spacious (Woo)\nI don't feel the safest, but I feel gracious (Yeah)\nI thank God every day, I don't feel basic\nProbably lose my sanity if I ain't have my babies (Sheesh)\nProbably be gamblin' with my life if I ain't made it\nHome invasions, and you ain't have to persuade me (Nah)\nCut it with a razor and serve it 'til your day\nCame from whippin' out the bowl, Tom Ford suit and tie (Yeah)\nGet my grandma to serve my dope, that ain't a lie (On God)\nYou can tell I've been broke when you look into my eyes (Future)\nNobody done noticed 'til the jet was in the sky\nYou might also like\n(Soaring, soaring)\nBringin' tears to my eyes (Oh yeah)\nNobody done noticed 'til the jet was in the sky\nBringin' tears to my eyes (Keep goin')\nGotta tell The WIZRD, it's a story like a book\nTears in my eyes\nI can't forget where I came from\nI lost a lover, it's alright\nIt can't be worse when I lost my main homie to the streets\nYou should've never give up on me without hearin' my side of the story\n(The WIZRD)\nI can't forget where I came from\nFreebandz\nBringin' tears to my eyes"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsIncredible Lyrics\nIt's a light day\nAin't got on nothin' but about $700 thousand worth\nThat's it\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\n\nI was havin' trust issues\nBut I've been havin' way better luck since you\nI know it's true love with you\nTold myself I don't wanna fall in love with you\nRollin' on the eway speedin'\nFriday, just started the weekend\nXO textin', you respondin'\nWe gon' go crazy with this money\nWe do hot yoga, 92 degrees\nCan you stretch it out? Stretch it out for me\nI got somewhere to be, but it's hard to leave\nWhen you do it like you mean it, I'm proceedin'\nIs you the one? Is you the one?\nThen she looked me in my eyes\nTold me, \"Fuck them pussy niggas, they ain't ridin' 'cause I'm ridin' and I'm dyin' for you, baby\"\nGot me feelin'\n\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIncredible\nYeah, yeah\nYou might also like\nWe can do exactly what you like, baby\nAnd it's all on me\nWe can take Vicodin tonight, baby\nIt's all on me\nWe been textin' back and forth\nNow it's time to get it crackin'\nGirl, take it all off 'cause I know you active\nDid you come to talk or is you 'bout that action?\nDiamonds on my neck, moonwalkin', Michael Jackson\nI'ma have your body sweatin' like you dipped in baby oil\nI'ma do whatever it's gon' take to keep my baby spoiled\nI'ma do whatever it's gon' take to shake these haters off\nPut it on, fuck the cost\nI just wanna show you off\nI can see your flaws, she gon' take me how I am\nHit it from the back, girl, you know I'm goin' ham\nFuck the pigs, girl, you got me feelin' like the man\nYeah, yeah\n\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIncredible\nYeah, yeah\nWay you move your body, girl I'll give you an advance\nKnow you, girl, you fuckin' with a full-grown man\nThe way you move your body, I'ma have a change of plans\nIn-in-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIncredible, yeah, yeah\nI'ma have your body sweatin' like you dipped in baby oil\nI'ma do whatever it take to keep my fuckin' baby spoiled\nI'ma do whatever it takes to shake these fuckin' bitches off\nI'ma do whatever it takes and you gon' be my personal\nDance, dance, girl you dancin' like you strippin' for this gold\nRomance and we've all done been here before\nBut your passion, I hear it when you're talkin'\nWe ain't clashin', you quiet when I'm talkin'\nPut them diamonds on you, have 'em Billie Jean moonwalkin'\nPut them diamonds on you, have 'emmmmm moonwalkin'\nYou get into everything exclusively, I'm honest\nWe don't need nobody comin' inbetween this money\nThese niggas already tryna invade the embassy\nGood thing I changed and you got that remedy\nThe best thing about you, oh you're that far from me\nYou a star to me\n\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIncredible\nYeah, yeah\nWay you move your body, girl I'll give you an advance\nKnow you, girl, you fuckin' with a full-grown man\nThe way you move your body, I'ma have a change of plans\nIn-in-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIncredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIn-in-incredible\nIncredible, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsInside the Mattress Lyrics\nI pour out yellow tuss, I pour out yellow tuss\nCause I gotta have it\nYeah, Hendrix\nI pour out yellow tuss, I pour out yellow tuss\nCause I gotta have it\n\nStacks hid inside the mattress\nRacks hid inside the mattress\nPacks hid inside the mattress\nGanks hid inside the mattress\nVert' dippin' through traffic\nI'm gettin' better, I'm at practice\nI'm workin' everyday, craftin'\nI'm cool on her, I done had her\nBounce back with a millio'\nHit an island like Gilligan\nNot just a regular civilian\nI ride for the squad, I'm a champion\nRemember we hit up the highway, we got us a stash spot\nRemember as soon as we touch down, nigga cash out\n\nI get on the stage and I rap 'til I pass out\nHit another city and another city, I'm just groovin'\nI was tryna tell you I was losin'\nI was gon' tell you I'm improvin'\nI done caught a vibe, she was choosin'\nGotta keep my pride, I'm a general\nGotta keep it real with some criminals\nGotta keep my focus, I'm phenomenal\nOnce I cock and load I'm the money man\nGot a hundred hoes, got a hundred Xans\nWe gon' party hard till the moon calls\nShe done fell in love with the mushrooms\nAnd my college girls talkin' kung-fu\nPut some cough syrup in a Mountain Dew\nYou would never see what I go through\nGotta keep my pride, I'm a general\nGotta keep it real with some criminals\nGotta take my time with these bad bitches\nI don't wine and dine with no bad bitches\nSend a flight for a bad bitch\nOver night for a bad bitch\nCartier on a bad bitch\nCartier on a bad bitch\nYou might also like\nStacks hid inside the mattress\nRacks hid inside the mattress\nPacks hid inside the mattress\nGanks hid inside the mattress\nVert' dippin' through traffic\nI'm gettin' better, I'm at practice\nI'm workin' everyday, craftin'\nI'm cool on her, I done had her\nBounce back with a millio'\nHit an island like Gilligan\nNot just a regular civilian\nI ride for my squad, I'm a champion\nRemember we hit up the highway, we got us a stash spot\nRemember as soon as we touch down, nigga cash out\n\nI never told the world about you\nI never told the homies 'bout you, not once\nI never had no bitter towards you\nI never had no drama for you, not once\nI never want to go to none of these award shows\nThat's not me\nOnly the time will tell the day I prevail and get me a Grammy\nLil Mexico, kept it real from the start\nIf I did it for you it came from the heart\nCame from the trenches and turned into art\nI wake up and do it way better tomorrow\nI wake up and cook up a kilo\nTake a flight on a jet out to Rio\nIt's mafia all day\nWe come out the hallways\nMurder in broad day, murder in broad day\nSit in the passenger side with the tool on my lap\nGot lawyers and actresses and models pursuin' me now\nOur foundation built on loyalty, you can't ruin me now\nStacks hid inside the mattress\nRacks hid inside the mattress\nPacks hid inside the mattress\nGanks hid inside the mattress\nVert' dippin' through traffic\nI'm gettin' better, I'm at practice\nI'm workin' everyday, craftin'\nI'm cool on her, I done had her\nBounce back with a millio'\nHit an island like Gilligan\nNot just a regular civilian\nI rap for the squad, I'm a champion\nRemember we hit up the highway, we got us a stash spot\nRemember as soon as we touch down, nigga cash out\n\nFreebandz\nI pour out yellow tuss, I pour out yellow tuss\nCause I gotta have it\nI pour out yellow tuss, I pour out yellow tuss\nCause I gotta have it"}
{"text":"Hahahahaha\nTank God\nAyy, ayy\n\nI've been fuckin' hoes and poppin' pillies\nMan, I feel just like a rockstar (Star, ayy, ayy)\nAll my brothers got that gas\nAnd they always be smokin' like a Rasta ('Sta)\nFuckin' with me, call up on a Uzi\nAnd show up, man, them the shottas ('Tas)\nWhen my homies pull up on your block\nThey make that thing go grra-ta-ta-ta (Ta, pow, pow, pow, ayy, ayy)\n\nSwitch my whip, came back in black\nI'm startin' sayin', \"Rest in peace to Bon Scott\" (Scott, ayy)\nClose that door, we blowin' smoke\nShe ask me light a fire like I'm Morrison ('Son, ayy)\nAct a fool on stage\nProlly leave my fuckin' show in a cop car (Car, ayy)\nShit was legendary\nThrew a TV out the window of the Montage\nCocaine on the table, liquor pourin', don't give a damn\nDude, your girlfriend is a groupie, she just tryna get in\nSayin', \"I'm with the band\" (Ayy, ayy)\nNow she actin' outta pocket, tryna grab up on my pants\nHundred bitches in my trailer say they ain't got a man\nAnd they all brought a friend (Yeah, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI've been fuckin' hoes and poppin' pillies\nMan, I feel just like a rockstar (Star, ayy, ayy)\nAll my brothers got that gas\nAnd they always be smokin' like a Rasta ('Sta)\nFuckin' with me, call up on a Uzi\nAnd show up, man, them the shottas ('Tas)\nWhen my homies pull up on your block\nThey make that thing go grra-ta-ta-ta (Ta, pow, pow, pow)\n\nI've been in the Hills fuckin' superstars\nFeelin' like a popstar (21, 21, 21)\nDrankin' Henny, bad bitches jumpin' in the pool\nAnd they ain't got on no bra (Bra)\nHit her from the back, pullin' on her tracks\nAnd now she screamin' out, \"\u00a1No m\u00e1s!\" (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nThey like, \"Savage, why you got a 12 car garage\nAnd you only got six cars?\" (21)\nI ain't with the cakin', how you kiss that? (Kiss that?)\nYour wifey say I'm lookin' like a whole snack (Big snack)\nGreen hundreds in my safe, I got old racks (Old racks)\nL.A. bitches always askin', \"Where the coke at?\" (21, 21)\nLivin' like a rockstar, smash out on a cop car\nSweeter than a Pop-Tart, you know you are not hard\nI done made the hot chart, 'member I used to trap hard\nLivin' like a rockstar, I'm livin' like a rockstar (Ayy)\nI've been fuckin' hoes and poppin' pillies\nMan, I feel just like a rockstar (Star, ayy, ayy)\nAll my brothers got that gas\nAnd they always be smokin' like a Rasta ('Sta, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nFuckin' with me, call up on a Uzi\nAnd show up, man, them the shottas ('Tas)\nWhen my homies pull up on your block\nThey make that thing go grra-ta-ta-ta (Ta, grra-ta-ta-ta-ta)\n\nStar, star, rockstar, rockstar, star\nRockstar\nRockstar, feel just like a\u2013\nRockstar\nRockstar\nRockstar\nFeel just like a\u2026"}
{"text":"Double OT\nI'm a new three\nSaucin', saucin', I'm saucin' on you\nI'm swaggin', I'm swaggin', I'm swaggin', oh-ooh (Swaggin')\nI'm ballin', I'm ballin', Iverson on you (Swish, ooh, ayy)\nWatch out, watch out, watch out, yeah\nThat's my shot, that's my shot, that's my shot, yeah\nSpendin', I'm spendin' all my fuckin' pay\n\nI got me some braids and I got me some hoes\nStarted rockin' the sleeve, I can't ball with no Joes\nYou know how I do it, Concords on my toes\n(This shit is hard) Oh\nI ain't rich yet, but you know I ain't broke, ah\nSo if I see it, I like it, buy that from the store, ah (Store, ah)\nI'm with some white girls and they love them the coca (Coca)\nLike they OT\nDouble OT like I'm KD, smokin' OG (Smokin' OG)\nAnd you know me, in my 2-3s and my gold teeth (And my gold teeth)\nBitch, I'm smiling, bet you see me from the nosebleeds (Nosebleeds)\nI'm the new three and I change out to my new 3s (To my new 3s)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nWhite Iverson\nWhen I started ballin', I was young\nYou gon' think about me when I'm gone\nI need that money like the ring I never won, I won\nSaucin', saucin', I'm saucin' on you\nI'm swaggin', I'm swaggin', I'm swaggin', oh-ooh\nI'm ballin', I'm ballin', Iverson on you\nWatch out, watch out, watch out, yeah\nThat's my shot, that's my shot, that's my shot, yeah\nSpendin', I'm spendin' all my fuckin' pay\n\nOoh, Stoney\nCigarettes and a headband\nCommas, commas in my head, man\nSlumped over like a dead man\nRed and black, 'bout my bread, man\nI'm the answer, never question\nLace up, learn a lesson\nBitch, I'm saucin' (Wow), I do this often, don't do no talkin' (No)\nMy options right when I walk in, jump all them Jordans (Ooh)\nI'm ballin', money jumpin'\nLike I'm Davis from New Orleans\nOr bitch, I'm Harden, I don't miss nothin'\nFuck practice, this shit just happens, know y'all can't stand it (Ayy)\nI have it, I never pass it, I work my magic\nHigh average, ball on these bastards, it makes me happy\nIt's tragic, I make it happen, and all y'all Shaqtin'\nWhite Iverson\nWhen I started ballin', I was young\nYou gon' think about me when I'm gone\nI need that money like the ring I never won, I won\nSaucin', saucin', I'm saucin' on you\nI'm swaggin', I'm swaggin', I'm swaggin', oh-ooh\nI'm ballin', I'm ballin', Iverson on you\nWatch out, watch out, watch out, yeah\nThat's my shot, that's my shot, that's my shot, yeah\nSpendin', I'm spendin' all my fuckin' pay\n\nOoh-ooh\nOoh-ooh\nOoh-ooh\nOoh-ooh"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah\nYeah (Hey)\n\nMy mama called, seen you on TV, son\nSaid shit done changed ever since we was on\nI dreamed it all ever since I was young\nThey said I wouldn't be nothing\nNow they always say, \"Congratulations\" (Uh, uh, uh)\nWorked so hard, forgot how to vacation (Uh-huh)\nThey ain't never had the dedication (Uh, uh)\nPeople hatin', say we changed and look, we made it (Uh, uh)\nYeah, we made it (Uh, uh, uh)\n\nThey was never friendly, yeah\nNow I'm jumping out the Bentley, yeah\nAnd I know I sound dramatic, yeah\nBut I know I had to have it, yeah\nFor the money, I'm a savage, yeah\nI be itching like an addict, yeah\nI'm surround by twenty bad bitch, yeah\nBut they didn't know me last year, yeah\nEveryone wanna act like they important (Yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah)\nBut all that mean nothing when I saw my dough, yeah (Yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah)\nEveryone countin' on me drop the ball, yeah (Yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah)\nEverything custom like I'm at the border, yeah, yeah\nIf you fuck with winning, put your lighters to the sky\nHow could I make cents when I got millions on my mind?\nComing with that bullshit, I just put it to the side\nBalling since a baby, they could see it in my eyes\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nMy mama called, seen you on TV, son\nSaid shit done changed ever since we was on\nI dreamed it all ever since I was young\nThey said I wouldn't be nothing\nNow they always say, \"Congratulations\" (Congratulations)\nWorked so hard, forgot how to vacation (Ooh)\nThey ain't never had the dedication (Uh, uh, ayy)\nPeople hatin', say we changed and look we made it (Uh, uh)\nYeah, we made it (Uh, uh, uh, yeah)\n\nI was patient (Yeah, oh)\nI was patient (Ayy, uh)\nNow I can scream that we made it (We made it)\nNow everywhere, everywhere I go, they say 'gratulation (Uh)\nYoung nigga, young nigga graduation (Yeah)\nI pick up the rock and I ball, baby (Ball)\nI'm looking for someone to call, baby (Brr)\nBut right now, I got a situation (Ayy)\nNothin' but old Ben, Ben Franklins (Cash)\nBig rings (Woo), champagne (Champagne)\nMy life is like a ball game (Ball game)\nBut instead, I'm in the trap, though (Trap, though)\nPot so big, call it Super Bowl (Super Bowl)\nSuper Bowl, call the hoes (Brr), get in the Rolls (Skrrt)\nTop-floor lifestyle (Top), Huncho and Post (Yeah, ayy)\nMalone (Ayy), I got a play on my phone (Ayy)\nYou know what I'm on (Ayy), Huncho Houdini, it's gone (Ayy)\nMy mama called, seen you on TV, son\nSaid shit done changed ever since we was on\nI dreamed it all ever since I was young\nThey said I wouldn't be nothing\nNow they always say, \"Congratulations\" (Ayy, uh, uh, uh)\nWorked so hard, forgot how to vacation (Uh-huh, ooh)\nThey ain't never had the dedication (Ayy, uh, uh)\nPeople hatin', say we changed and look we made it (Yeah,  uh, uh)\nYeah, we made it (Ayy)\n\nHey, hey, hey, hey\nHey, hey, hey, hey"}
{"text":"Damn, my AP goin' psycho, lil' mama bad like Michael\nCan't really trust nobody with all this jewelry on you\nMy roof look like a no-show, got diamonds by the boatload\nCome with the Tony Romo for clowns and all the bozos\nMy AP goin' psycho, lil' mama bad like Michael\nCan't really trust nobody with all this jewelry on you\nMy roof look like a no-show, got diamonds by the boatload\nDon't act like you my friend when I'm rollin' through my ends, though\n\nYou stuck in the friend zone, I tell that four-five the fifth, ayy\nHunnid bands inside my shorts, DeChino the shit, ayy\nTry to stuff it all in, but it don't even fit, ayy\nKnow that I been with the shits ever since a jit, ayy\nI made my first million, I'm like, \"Shit, this is it,\" ayy\n30 for a walkthrough, man, we had that bitch lit, ayy\nHad so many bottles, gave ugly girl a sip\nOut the window of the Benzo, we get seen in the rent'\nAnd I'm like \"Woah, man, my neck so goddamn cold\u201d\nDiamonds wet, my t-shirt soaked\nI got homies, let it go, oh\nMy money thick, won't ever fold\nShe said, \"Can I have some to hold?\"\nAnd I can't ever tell you no\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nDamn, my AP goin' psycho, lil' mama bad like Michael\nCan't really trust nobody with all this jewelry on you\nMy roof look like a no-show, got diamonds by the boatload\nCome with the Tony Romo for clowns and all the bozos\nMy AP goin' psycho, lil' mama bad like Michael\nCan't really trust nobody with all this jewelry on you\nMy roof look like a no-show, got diamonds by the boatload\nDon't act like you my friend when I'm rollin' through my ends, though\n\nThe AP goin' psycho, my Rollie goin' brazy\nI'm hittin' lil' mama, she wanna have my babies\nIt's fifty on the pinky, chain so stanky\nYou should see the whip, promise I can take yo' bitch\nDolla ridin' in an old school Chevy, it's a drop top\nBoolin' with a thot-thot, she gon' give me top-top\nJust one switch, I can make the ass drop (Hey)\nAyy, take you to the smoke shop\nWe gon' get high, ayy, we gon' hit Rodeo\nDial up Valentino, we gon' hit Pico\nTake you where I'm from, take you to the slums\nThis ain't happen overnight, no, these diamonds real bright\nSaint Laurent jeans, still in my Vans though\nAll VVS', put you in a necklace\nGirl, you look beautiful tonight\nStars on the roof, they're matching with the jewelry\nDamn, my AP goin' psycho, lil' mama bad like Michael\nCan't really trust nobody with all this jewelry on you\nMy roof look like a no-show, got diamonds by the boatload\nCome with the Tony Romo for clowns and all the bozos\nMy AP goin' psycho, lil' mama bad like Michael\nCan't really trust nobody with all this jewelry on you\nMy roof look like a no-show, got diamonds by the boatload\nDon't act like you my friend when I'm rollin' through my ends, though"}
{"text":"Ooh, I fall apart\nOoh, yeah, mmm, yeah\n\nShe told me that I'm not enough (Yeah)\nAnd she left me with a broken heart (Yeah)\nShe fooled me twice and it's all my fault (Yeah)\nShe cut too deep, now she left me scarred (Yeah)\nNow there's so many thoughts goin' through my brain (Yeah)\nAnd now I'm takin' these shots like it's Novocaine, yeah\n\nOoh, I fall apart\nDown to my core\nOoh, I fall apart\nDown to my core\nOoh, didn't know it before\nSurprised when you caught me off guard\nAll this damn jewelry I bought\nYou was my shorty, I thought\n\nNever caught a feelin' this hard\nHarder than the liquor I pour\nTell me you don't want me no more\nBut I can't let go, everybody told me so\nFeelin' like I sold my soul\nDevil in the form of a whore\nDevil in the form of a whore\nYou said it, no, you said it\nNo, you said that shit, we'd be together, oh\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nOoh, I fall apart\nDown to my core\nOoh, I fall apart\nDown to my core\nOoh, didn't know it before\nSurprised when you caught me off guard\nAll this damn jewelry I bought\nYou was my shorty, I thought\n\nIce keep pourin' and the drink keep flowin'\nTry to brush it off, but it keep on goin'\nCovered in scars and I can't help showin'\nWhippin' in the foreign and the tears keep rollin'\nIce keep droppin' and the drink keep flowin'\nTry to brush it off, but it keep on goin'\nAll these scars, can't help from showin'\nWhippin' in the foreign and the tears keep blowin', yeah\n\nOoh, I fall apart\nDown to my core\nOoh, I fall apart\nDown to my core\nOoh, didn't know it before\nSurprised when you caught me off guard\nAll this damn jewelry I bought\nYou was my shorty, I thought"}
{"text":"Oh, oh, oh\nOh,\u200a oh, oh\nOh,\u200a oh, oh, oh, oh\n\nWe couldn't turn around 'til we were upside down\nI'll be the bad guy now, but know I ain't too proud\nI\u200a couldn't be there even when I tried\nYou\u200a don't believe it, we do this every time\n\nSeasons change and our love went cold\nFeed\u200a the flame 'cause we can't let go\nRun away, but we're running in circles\nRun away, run away\nI dare you to do something\nI'm\u200a waiting on you again, so I don't take the blame\nRun away, but we're running in circles\nRun away, run away, run away\n\nLet go, I got a feeling that it's time to let go\nI said so, I knew that this was doomed from the get-go\nYou thought that it was special, special\nBut it was just the sex, though, the sex, though\nAnd I still hear the echoes (The echoes)\nI got a feeling that it's time to let it go, let it go\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nSeasons change and our love went cold\nFeed the flame 'cause we can't let go\nRun away, but we're running in circles\nRun away, run away\nI dare you to do something\nI'm waiting on you again, so I don't take the blame\nRun away, but we're running in circles\nRun away, run away, run away\n\nMaybe you don't understand what I'm going through\nIt's only me, what you got to lose?\nMake up your mind, tell me, what are you gonna do?\nIt's only me, let it go\n\nSeasons change and our love went cold\nFeed the flame 'cause we can't let go\nRun away, but we're running in circles\nRun away, run away\nI dare you to do something\nI'm waiting on you again, so I don't take the blame\nRun away, but we're running in circles\nRun away, run away, run away"}
{"text":"You prolly think that you are better now, better now\nYou only say that 'cause I'm not around, not around\nYou know I never meant to let you down, let you down\nWoulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything\nYou know I say that I am better now, better now\nI only say that 'cause you're not around, not around\nYou know I never meant to let you down, let you down\nWoulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything\nOh-oh\n\nI did not believe that it would end, no\nEverything came second to the Benzo\nYou're not even speakin' to my friends, no\nYou knew all my uncles and my aunts though\nTwenty candles, blow 'em out and open your eyes\nWe were lookin' forward to the rest of our lives\nUsed to keep my picture posted by your bedside\nNow it's in your dresser with the socks you don't like\nAnd I'm rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin'\nWith my brothers like it's Jonas, Jonas\nDrinkin' Henny and I'm tryna forget\nBut I can't get this shit outta my head\n\nYou prolly think that you are better now, better now\nYou only say that 'cause I'm not around, not around\nYou know I never meant to let you down, let you down\nWoulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything\nYou know I say that I am better now, better now\nI only say that 'cause you're not around, not around\nYou know I never meant to let you down, let you down\nWoulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything\nOh-oh\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI seen you with your other dude\nHe seemed like he was pretty cool\nI was so broken over you\nLife, it goes on, what can you do?\nI just wonder what it's gonna take (What's it gonna take?)\nAnother foreign or a bigger chain (Bigger chain)\nBecause no matter how my life has changed\nI keep on looking back on better days\n\nYou prolly think that you are better now, better now\nYou only say that 'cause I'm not around, not around\nYou know I never meant to let you down, let you down\nWoulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything\nYou know I say that I am better now, better now\nI only say that 'cause you're not around, not around\nYou know I never meant to let you down, let you down\nWoulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything\nOh-oh\n\nI promise\nI swear to you, I'll be okay\nYou're only the love of my life (Love of my life)\nYou prolly think that you are better now, better now\nYou only say that 'cause I'm not around, not around\nYou know I never meant to let you down, let you down\nWoulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything\nYou know I say that I am better now, better now\nI only say that 'cause you're not around, not around\nYou know I never meant to let you down, let you down\nWoulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything\nOh-oh"}
{"text":"Said she tired of little money, need a big boy\nPull up 20 inch blades like I'm Lil\u2019 Troy\nNow it's everybody flockin', need a decoy\nShawty mixing up the vodka with the LaCroix, yeah\nG-Wagen, G-Wagen, G-Wagen, G-Wagen\nAll the housewives pullin\u2019 up (Up, up)\nI got a lot of toys, 720S bumpin' Fall Out Boy\nYou was talkin' shit in the beginning (Mm-mm)\nBack when I was feelin' more forgivin' (More forgivin')\nI know it piss you off to see me winnin' (See me winnin')\nSee the igloo in my mouth when I be grinnin\u2019 (I be grinnin\u2019), yeah\n\nHunnid bands in my pocket, it's on me\nHunnid deep when I roll like the army\nGet more bottles, these bottles are lonely\nIt\u2019s a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', \"Wow\" (Wow, wow)\nHunnid bands in my pocket, it's on me (On me)\nYeah, your grandmama probably know me (Know me)\nGet more bottles, these bottles are lonely\nIt\u2019s a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', \"Wow\" (Wow, wow)\n\nEverywhere I go (Hey)\nCatch me on the block like I'm Mutombo (Wow)\nTrunk in the front like that shit Dumbo, yeah\nCut the roof off like a nip-tuck\nPull up to the house with some big butts\nTurn the kitchen counter to a strip-club (Yeah, wow)\nMe and Dre came for the...\nWhen I got guap, all of y'all just appeared (Wow)\nBefore I dropped Stoney, none of y'all really cared (Cared)\nNow they always say, \"Congratulations,\" to the kid (Kid)\nAnd this is not a 40, but I'm pourin' out this shit (Yeah)\nUsed to have a lot, but I got more now (Yup)\nMade another hit 'cause I got bored now (Yup)\nAlways goin' for it, never punt fourth down\nLast call, Hail Mary, Prescott touchdown, ayy\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nHunnid bands in my pocket, it's on me (On me)\nHunnid deep when I roll like the army (Hey)\nGet more bottles, these bottles are lonely\nIt's a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', \"Wow\" (Wow, wow)\nHunnid bands in my pocket, it's on me (Yeah, yeah)\nYeah, your grandmama probably know me (Yeah, yeah)\nGet more bottles, these bottles are lonely\nIt's a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', \"Wow\"\n\nGot 'em sayin', \"Wow\"\nAyy, ayy, wow\nSayin', \"Wow\"\nWow\nWow"}
{"text":"It's true that all that you know is all that you are\nYou said that it's all that you want and more\nFuck off and pour another drink\nAnd tell me what you think\nYou know that I'm too drunk to talk right now\nYou put your cigarette out on my face\nSo beautiful, please, woman\n\nDon't break your back for me\nI'll put you out of your misery\n\nTell me that it's all okay (Tell me that it's all okay)\nI've been waitin' on this all damn day (Waitin' on this all damn day)\nCall me in the mornin', tell me how last night went\nI'm here, but don't count on me to\u2014\n\nStay a little longer if you convince me\nAnd tell me all the things that you have against me\nEvery time we make up, the truth is fadin'\nEverybody's blind when the view's amazin'\nDamn, who are we right now?\nCan we have a little conversation?\nFigure it out with no intoxication\nWe carry on, what is our motivation?\nWe're never wrong, how the hell we gonna make it?\nMaybe we're used to this\nTell me, what are we to do?\nIt's like we only play to lose\nChasin' pain with an excuse\nI love that shit and so do you\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nBut don't break your back for me\nI'll put you out of your misery\n\nTell me that it's all okay (Tell me that it's all okay)\nI've been waitin' on this all damn day (Waitin' on this all damn day)\nCall me in the mornin', tell me how last night went\nI'm here, but don't count on me to stay\n\n\nTell me that it's all okay (Tell me that it's all okay)\nI've been waitin' on this all damn day (Waitin' on this all damn day)\nCall me in the mornin', tell me how last night went\nI'm here, but don't count on me to stay"}
{"text":"Lighting stog after stog, I choke on the smoke\nThey tell me to quit, don't listen what I'm told\nThey help me forget that this world is so cold\nI don't even know what I'm chasin' no more\nTell me what I want, just keep searchin' on\nIt's never enough, cup after cup\nBlunt after blunt, I wouldn't give one if I could find a fuck\nHa, ha, ha, uh, in the cut and I put that on my mama\nAnd my bitch called talkin' 'bout some drama\nI swear there ain't no time for women on the come up\nIt's either pussy or the commas\n\nMan, I just wanna go flex\nGold on my teeth and on my neck\nAnd I'm stone cold with the flex\nWith my squad and I'm smokin' up a check\nMan, I just wanna go flex\nGold on my teeth and on my neck\nAnd I'm stone cold with the flex\nWith my squad and I'm smokin' up a check\n\nUh, yeah, push the gas, get a motherfuckin' nose bleed\nShe ain't never met a youngin' do it like me\nShe got a man but she says she really like me\nShe doin' things to excite me\nShe sendin' all her friends snaps of my new tracks\n'Cause all these hoes know what's about to come next\nI hit my plug up, got the paper connect\nI drop a couple bands, I just wanna go\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nMan, I just wanna go flex\nGold on my teeth and on my neck\nAnd I'm stone cold with the flex\nWith my squad and I'm smokin' up a check\nMan, I just wanna go flex\nGold on my teeth and on my neck\nAnd I'm stone cold with the flex\nWith my squad and I'm smokin' up a check\n\nKnowing all of this, it just don't make a difference\nI'm just talking shit to the ones that'll listen\nI come with the heat, man, I swear I'm never missing\nAnd I'm still the same and I swear I'm never switching\nKnowing all of this, it just don't make a difference\nI'm just talking shit to the ones that'll listen\nI come with the heat, man, I swear I'm never missing\nAnd I'm still the same and I swear I'm never switching\n\nMan, I just wanna go flex\nGold on my teeth and on my neck\nAnd I'm stone cold with the flex\nWith my squad and I'm smokin' up a check\nMan, I just wanna go flex\nGold on my teeth and on my neck\nAnd I'm stone cold with the flex\nWith my squad and I'm smokin' up a check\nOoh, man, I just wanna go flex\nGold on my teeth and on my neck\nAnd I'm stone cold with the flex, yeah\nIce cold with the flex\nHahaha, that shit hard"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah\nMmm, ayy\n\nCandy paint with the white on top\nLambo doors are the oo-op drop\nIf you busy plottin' on what I got\nKick in your door, that's SWAT, you thot\nHundred thousand dollars on the table top\nHalf price my whip, same price my watch\nGot no jumper, but I ball a lot\nBitch, I'm young Stoney, I do what I want\nCandy paint with the white on top (Skrrt)\nLambo doors are the oo-op drop (Drop)\nIf you busy plottin' on what I got\nKick in your door, that's SWAT, you thot (Pop)\nHundred thousand dollars on the table top\nHalf price my whip, same price my watch (Bling)\nGot no jumper, but I ball a lot (Swish)\nBitch, I'm young Stoney, I do what I want\n\nDidn't know that was your girl when she gave me top (Yuh)\nKicked her out the Rolls said, \"Thanks a lot\"\nGoddamn, I love paper like I'm Michael Scott (Yeah)\nI can do things that your man can not (Yeah)\nSlide boy comin' down, damn, I'm hot (Hot)\nEverybody say that I gotta be stopped (Stopped)\nEven though my final form ain't unlocked (Locked)\nI'm so ahead of you muhfuckas\nHow you comprehend what you ain't understandin'?\nCount a hundred bands and I watch it vanish\nDiamonds going crazy like they on the dance floor\nGot a lot of ass, nothin' I can't handle\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nFlavor lasts forever, you should try a sample (Goddamn)\nBaby, I'm the boss like I'm Tony Danza (Tony Danza)\nEverybody tryna tell me what I stand for\nBut you don't fuckin' know me, homie, you don't want war (Ayy)\n\nCandy paint with the white on top\nLambo doors are the oo-op drop\nIf you busy plottin' on what I got\nKick in your door, that's SWAT, you thot\nHundred thousand dollars on the table top\nHalf price my whip, same price my watch\nGot no jumper, but I ball a lot (Ayy, ayy)\nBitch, I'm young Stoney, I do what I want (Ayy, ayy)\nCandy paint with the white on top (Yeah)\nLambo doors are the oo-op drop (Drop, drop)\nIf you busy plottin' on what I got\nKick in your door, that's SWAT, you thot (Pop, pop, pop, pop)\nHundred thousand dollars on the table top (Woo)\nHalf price my whip, same price my watch (Yeah)\nGot no jumper, but I ball a lot (Swish)\nBitch, I'm young Stoney, I do what I want\n\nI've been rollin' twenty ash, hit the road (Woo)\nHit the switch up the suicide doors (Damn)\nWe already know you vanished though (Ooh)\nHit my momma when I ride in that, oh\nAll these muhfuckas' so false with me (Yah)\nIf your money funny, don't talk to me (Nah)\nI know there ain't shit that you could offer me (No)\nTake a second if you think about crossin' me\nIt lasts forever, you should try a sample (Goddamn)\nBaby, I'm the boss like I'm Tony Danza (Tony Danza)\nEverybody tryna tell me what I stand for (What I stand for)\nBut you don't fuckin' know me, homie, you don't want war (You don't want war)\n\nCandy paint with the white on top\nLambo doors are the oo-op drop\nIf you busy plottin' on what I got\nKick in your door, that's SWAT, you thot\nHundred thousand dollars on the table top\nHalf price my whip, same price my watch\nGot no jumper, but I ball a lot\nBitch, I'm young Stoney, I do what I want\nCandy paint with the white on top\nLambo doors are the oo-op drop (Oh-ooh-ooh)\nIf you busy plottin' on what I got (Oh-ooh)\nKick in your door, that's SWAT, you thot\nHundred thousand dollars on the table top (Oh-ooh)\nHalf price my whip, same price my watch (Oh-ooh-ooh)\nGot no jumper, but I ball a lot (Oh-ooh)\nBitch, I'm young Stoney, I do what I want"}
{"text":"Me and Kurt feel the same, too much pleasure is pain\nMy girl spites me in vain, all I do is complain\nShe needs something to change, need to take off the e-e-edge\nSo fuck it all tonight\nAnd don't tell me to shut up\nWhen you know you talk too much\nBut you don't got shit to say (Say)\n\nI want you out of my head\nI want you out of my bedroom tonight (Bedroom)\nThere's no way I could save you (Save you)\n'Cause I need to be saved too\nI'm no good at goodbyes\n\nWe're both actin' insane, but too stubborn to change\nNow I'm drinkin' again, 80 proof in my veins\nAnd my fingertips stained, looking over the e-e-edge\nDon't fuck with me tonight\nSay you needed this heart, then you got it (Got it)\nTurns out that it wasn't what you wanted (Wanted)\nAnd we wouldn't let go and we lost it\nNow I'm a goner\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI want you out of my head (Head)\nI want you out of my bedroom tonight (Bedroom)\nThere's no way I could save you (Save you)\n'Cause I need to be saved too (Saved too)\nI'm no good at goodbyes\n\nI want you out of my life\nI want you back here tonight\nI'm tryna cut you, no knife\nI wanna slice you and dice you\nMy argue possessive, it got you precise\nCan you not turn off the TV? I'm watchin' the fight\nI flood the garage, blue diamond, no shark\nYou're Barbie life doll, it's Nicki Minaj\nYou don't need a key to drive, your car on the charger\nI just wanna see the side, the one that's unbothered (Yeah)\nAnd I don't want ya to never go outside (Outside)\nI promise if they play, my niggas slidin' (Slidin')\nI'm fuckin' her, and the tour bus still ridin' (Ridin')\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nI want you out of my head (Head)\nI want you out of my bedroom tonight (Bedroom)\nThere's no way I could save you (Save you)\n'Cause I need to be saved too (Saved too)\nI'm no good at goodbyes\nGoodbye, goodbye, goodbye (Bye, bye)\nGoodbye, goodbye, goodbye (Bye, bye)\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nGoodbye, goodbye, goodbye (Bye, bye, bye)\nI'm no good at goodbyes\nGoodbye, goodbye, goodbye (Bye, bye)\nGoodbye, goodbye, goodbye (Bye, bye)\nGoodbye, goodbye, goodbye (Bye, bye)\nI'm no good at goodbyes"}
{"text":"Ooh, ooh\nOoh, ooh\n\nHollywood's bleeding, vampires feedin'\nDarkness turns to dust\nEveryone's gone, but no one's leavin'\nNobody left\u2005but\u2005us\nTryna chase a\u2005feelin', but we'll never feel it\nRidin'\u2005on the last train home\nDyin' in our sleep, we're livin' out a dream\nWe only make it out alone\n\nI just keep on hopin' that you call me\nYou say you wanna see me, but you can't right now\nYou never took the time to get to know me\nWe're scared of losin' somethin' that we never found\nWe're runnin' out of reasons, but we can't let go\nYeah, Hollywood is bleedin', but we call it home\n\nOutside, the winter sky turnin' grey\nCity up in smoke, it's only ash when it rains\nHowl at the moon and go to sleep in the day\nLove for everybody 'til the drugs fade away\nIn the mornin', blocking out the sun with the shades\nShe gotta check her pulse to tell herself that she okay\nIt seem like dyin' young is an honor\nBut who'd be at my funeral? I wonder\nI go out and all they eyes on me\nI show out, do you like what you see?\nAnd now they closin' in on me\nLet 'em sharpen all they teeth\nThis is more than I can handle, blood in my Lambo'\nWish I could go, oh, I'm losin' ho-ope\nI light a candle, some Palo Santo\nFor all these demons, wish I could just go home\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI just keep on hopin' that you call me\nYou say you wanna see me, but you can't right now\nYou never took the time to get to know me\nWe're scared of losin' somethin' that we never found\nWe're runnin' out of reasons, but we can't let go\nYeah, Hollywood is bleedin', but we call it home"}
{"text":"99 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsFeeling Whitney Lyrics\nI've been looking for someone...\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh\n\nAnd I've been looking for someone to put up with my bullshit\nI can't even leave my bedroom so I keep it pouring\nAnd I ain't seen the light of day since, well, that's not important, it's been long\nAnd I was feeling Whitney, me and my homies sip the Houston\nCars and clothes, thought I was winnin', you knew I was losing\nYou told me to wake up but my clock always stays on snooze and I'm done\n\nTo each their own and find peace in knowin'\nAin't always broken, but here's to hopin'\nShow no emotion, against your coding\nJust act as hard as you can\nYou don't need a friend\nBoy, you're the man\n\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nAnd I've been looking for someone that I can buy my drugs from\nIt seems like every plug ran east to Utah, became Mormons\nDrought comes around, feels like I have no one to depend on\nSober, ugh\nI had eighty beers on Tuesday night, I had nothing to do then\nI put on a little Dwight and sang a happy tune\nAnd lit a cigarette, stepped out the door, had an appearance\nDrank more\n\nTo each their own and find peace in knowin'\nAin't always broken, but here's to hopin'\nShow no emotion, against your coding\nJust act as hard as you can\nYou don't need a friend\nBoy, you're the man\n\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh"}
{"text":"(Oh)\n(Ooh)\n'Cause I can't take it no more\nNo, you ain't like them bitches, tell them hoes, \"Adios\"\nAnd you can drop your panties, leave them shits at the door\nDior falls on the floor, I swear we been here before\n\nI'm tryna see you from my own perspective\nYou all in my section, tryna come to my session\nWe rollin' up pressure, you know that we flexin'\nWe bought all the bottles, we came with the models\nGirl, this a confession, I'm not like your exes\nI came up from Texas and now that we textin'\nYou can fly in whenever, now you undressin'\nPanties on the dresser, your hair gettin' messed up\nThe feelin' we catchin', my love is a blessin'\nMade love in a Lexus, made love in a Lexus\nI know you remember (I know you remember)\n\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause you want me and I want you (Ooh-ooh)\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause, baby, it ain't nothin' new, nah\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause you want me and I want you (Ooh-ooh)\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause, baby, this ain't nothin' new, oh\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nOh, you actin' reckless (Actin' reckless)\nI told you that I need affection (Need affection)\nSo let me point you in the right direction (Right direction)\nIt's so important that you get the message (Oh), yeah\nYeah, I gotta say, gotta say somethin' to you-you-you\nI'm gonna roll, I'm gonna roll out in that new-new-new\nIf you wanna do what I wanna do, well, mm-mm-mm\nBut I guess that it's just d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu\n\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause you want me and I want you (Ooh-ooh)\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause, baby, it ain't nothin' new, nah\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause you want me and I want you (Ooh-ooh)\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause, baby, this ain't nothin' new, oh\n\nTell me if you want it, baby\n'Cause I know I could drive you crazy\nI just wanted you to know now\nOh-ah, oh-ah\nShow up in that new Mercedes\nYou already know I'm faded\nGirl, I been thinkin' 'bout you lately\nOh-oh, oh-oh\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause you want me and I want you (Ooh-ooh)\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause, baby, it ain't nothin' new, nah\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause you want me and I want you (Ooh-ooh)\nTell me, is that d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu? (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause, baby, this ain't nothin' new, oh\n\n'Cause I can't take it no more\nNo, you ain't like them bitches, tell them hoes, \"Adios\"\nAnd you can drop your panties, leave them shits at the door\nDior falls on the floor, I swear we been here before"}
{"text":"Oh\n\nI feel you crumble in my arms down to your heart of stone\nYou bled me\u2005dry\u2005just like the\u2005tears you never show\nWhy don't you\u2005take what you want from me?\nTake what you need from me\nTake what you want and go\nWhy don't you take what you want from me?\nTake what you need from me\nTake what you want and go\n\nI never needed anything from you\nAnd all I ever asked was for the truth (All I ever asked was for)\nYou showed your tongue and it was forked in two\nYour venom was lethal, I almost believed you (Almost believed you)\nYeah, you preyed on my every mistake\nWaited on me to break, held me under hopin' I would drown\nLike a plague, I was wasting away\nTryna find my way out, find my way out (Find my way out)\n\nAnd it finally came the day\nI start giving my heart away\nFor Heaven's sake, my bones will break\nBut you'll never own my soul, no\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI feel you crumble in my arms down to your heart of stone\nYou bled me dry just like the tears you never show\nWhy don't you take what you want from me?\nTake what you need from me\nTake what you want and go\nWhy don't you take what you want from me?\nTake what you need from me\nTake what you want and go\n\nI took them stones you threw, made chains for the crew (Ice)\nI brought up 10 hoes, this coupe only made for two (Yessir)\nThey all ran through it, it ain't nothin' left to do\nI need some more reasons to live out this evening (Straight up)\nI've been sippin' forever and just taking whatever\nHoping, thinking whenever you'll be back around\nLet's go our ways, whichever\nYou say how is however long\n'Cause you know I'll never be alone (Yeah)\n\nLove (Love, yeah)\nShorty gon' back (Shorty gon, shorty gon' back)\nNeed it on sight (Need it on, need it on sight)\nCrack it all back (Crack it all, crack it all back)\nGive her that pipe (Give her that, give her that pipe)\nAll of my gang (All of my, all of my gang)\nShawty went bad (Shawty went, shawty went bad)\nI feel you crumble in my arms down to your heart of stone\nYou bled me dry just like the tears you never show\nWhy don't you take what you want from me?\nTake what you need from me\nTake what you want and go\nWhy don't you take what you want from me?\nTake what you need from me\nTake what you want and go\n\nTake it all away\nWhy don't you (Take what you want, take what you need)\nTake what you need from me, yeah\n(Take what you want) Why don't you (Take what you need)\n(What you need, yeah)"}
{"text":"Never know when someone come and try to take my life\nI've been sleepin' with the .45 like every night\nIn the whip I pray to God I don't see flashin' lights\nGod damn, they right behind me\nAnd I wake up everyday\nI wake up every day with this anxiety\nAnd they know where I stay\nGot \"Malone\" on my plates\nAnd they followin' me\nTwo hundred bands under the floor of the kitchen\nA little more up in the walls and the ceilin'\nEven family and friends started switchin'\nEver since I got that check, seen 'em itchin'\n\nEyes open, I see you, I'm watchin' you\nMore people wanna be you, don't trust no one\n\nTell me why I can get no relief (I can't even sleep)\nWonderin' when they'll come for me\nA paranoid man makes paranoid plans\nI do what I can, but it's out of my hands\nStrugglin' just to find my peace\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nSometimes feel like I got no friends\nCan't trust a soul, like I'm Snowden\nRight by the bed, keep it loaded\nLord have mercy if they broke in\nI don't ever sleep, yeah, I'm wide awake\nIf you try to pull up to my place\nBeam is gonna hit you a mile away\nI promise, one of us gonna die today\nHelicopters in the sky\nNo, he can't escape the eyes\nPoliticians and the lies\nTell me, what's the point in pickin' sides?\n\nTell me why I can get no relief (I can't even sleep)\nWonderin' when they'll come for me\nA paranoid man makes paranoid plans\nI do what I can, but it's out of my hands\nStrugglin' just to find my peace\n\n(Ayy) Mind is runnin' all day\nCost me more than money and I'm payin' the price, yeah\nI ain't goin' nowhere\nKillin' myself so I can make me a life, yeah\nMinute after minute, never had a limit\nWoke up every mornin', knew that I just had to get it\nWindows always tinted, you ain't lookin' in it\nEither way, I know they'll come for me again\nTell me why I can get no relief (I can't even sleep)\nWonderin' when they'll come for me\nA paranoid man makes paranoid plans\nI do what I can, but it's out of my hands\nStrugglin' just to find my peace"}
{"text":"93 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eOver Now Lyrics\nAhahah, yeah\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nWhen you leave me, make me jump up off my roof\nDidn't faze you, would've given you the moon\nEven after everything that we've been through\nI ain't never met nobody like you\nWhy you always tryna tell me that it's cool?\nNeed to quiet 'cause you never tell the truth\nFelt like ballin' was the only thing to do\nTrade my woman for some diamonds and a coupe\n\nWhen she's comin' for my heart, it feels like Armageddon\nI'ma turn the tables, promise you will not forget it\nWon't apologize, don't give a fuck if you're offended\nNo discussion, yeah, we gotta go our separate ways\nWon't take me down in flames\nI don't even wanna know your name\nWatch how everything is gonna change, yeah, ayy\n\nI'ma pull up in a Bentley\nWith a fuckin' hunnid thousand in my pocket, yeah, yeah\nI'ma pull in, swang my door open\nStuntin', knowin' everybody watchin', yeah, yeah\nAnd help another bitch out the whip\nAnd I don't give a fuck if you don't like it, yeah, yeah\nJust to show you that it's over\nIt don't matter what you gotta say about it, yeah\nI'ma put that bitch pussy in a motherfuckin' bodybag\nSo you know that I'm never ever coming back\nYou kept your heart on the counter in a Prada bag\nI used to never ever want to see the light of day, yeah\nI was an idiot\nBeggin' on my knees onto the floor\nNow, I don't even want you anymore, anymore\nIt's over now\nIt's over now, yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nFeels like a knife in my throat, you treat this like it's a joke\nI bet you've done this before, I ain't surprised, yeah\nI wasn't tryna let go, but you'll know why when I'm ghost\nI hope you wind up alone, dead in my eyes, yeah\nAin't religious, only Christian when it's Dior\nOnly prayin' for the Amex and the gold\nYou ain't stop me, no, you only was a detour\nTried to drive me crazy, you ran out of road\n\nWhen she's comin' for my heart, it feels like Armageddon\nI'ma turn the tables, promise you will not forget it\nWon't apologize, don't give a fuck if you're offended\nNo discussion, yeah, we gotta go our separate ways\nWon't take me down in flames\nI don't even wanna know your name\nWatch how everything is gonna change (Is gonna change), yeah, ayy\n\nI'ma pull up in a Bentley\nWith a fuckin' hunnid thousand in my pocket, yeah, yeah\nI'ma pull in, swang my door open\nStuntin', knowin' everybody watchin', yeah, yeah\nAnd help another bitch out the whip\nAnd I don't give a fuck if you don't like it, yeah, yeah (I don't give a fuck)\nJust to show you that it's over\nIt don't matter what you gotta say about it, yeah (What you gotta say about it)\nI'ma put that bitch pussy in a motherfuckin' bodybag (In a bodybag)\nSo you know that I'm never ever coming back (Never coming back)\nYou kept your heart on the counter in a Prada bag (In a Prada bag)\nI used to never ever want to see the light of day, yeah\nI was an idiot\nBeggin' on my knees on to the floor (To the floor)\nNow I don't even want you anymore, anymore\nIt's over now\nIt's over now\n(It's over now)"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eNederlandsAz\u0259rbaycanca \/ \u0622\u0630\u0631\u0628\u0627\u064a\u062c\u0627\u0646Portugu\u00easItalianoToo Young Lyrics\nI don't wanna die too young (Uh)\nYuh, too young (Uh, uh-uh)\nYuh, too young\n\nI don't wanna die too young (Too young)\nToo young (Too young)\nToo young (Too young, uh)\nCountin' bands, hallelujah ('Lujah)\n'Lujah ('Lujah)\n'Lujah, yuh ('Lujah, uh)\nI don't wanna die too young (Too young)\nToo young (Too young)\nToo young, uh (Too young, uh-uh)\nI've been grindin' way too long (Too long)\nToo long (Too long)\nToo long, uh (Yeah, ayy)\n\nCame up, don't know (I don't)\nI just keep goin' with the flow (Flow)\nI just wanna go and cop me somethin'\nI hit Fairfax, go shoppin' though (Ayy)\nShe just wanna hit that bathingroom (Oh)\nHold that guap like a register\nKeep on winnin', need that guapa though\nLike I'm cash out, eat at Pappadeaux\nFlowin' on to the Galapagos, runnin' and grab the dough\nMan, this shit never minimal, feel like an animal\nYeah, bitch, I tryna keep me cool (Tryna, tryna)\n'Cause I ain't never goin', never goin' back, uh (Tryna never)\nYeah, I don't wanna die too young (Too young)\nI don't wanna die too young (Too young)\nWhen I get that cash, it's hallelujah, ayy, hallelujah\nAyy, hallelujah, ayy (Ayy, ayy)\nHallelujah, ayy (Ayy, ayy, hallelujah)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI don't wanna die too young (No, ain't no)\nToo young (Too young)\nToo young (Too young)\nCountin' bands, hallelujah ('Lujah, 'lujah)\n'Lujah ('Lujah, 'lujah)\n'Lujah, yuh\nI don't wanna die too young (Too young)\nToo young (Yeah)\nToo young, uh\nI've been grindin' way too long\nToo long (Way too long)\nToo long, uh\n\nAyy, whip fast, my bitch bad, I skrrt, skrrt, that coupe fast\nMy coupe fast, yo' bitch know (Yo' bitch know, skrrt, skrrt)\nMy bitch slow, she do what I say so\nAnd she always keep me on my toes (My toes)\nPoppin' that woe, man, I be gone, ayy (Whoa)\nJust watch me go, bitches, they watchin' me go (Whoa)\nWalkin' around, ayy, I pick that band up\nAnd then I go drop that shit off, ayy (Oh)\nPull up in a Porsche, shit poppin' off\nPop that shit off, I got that bitch off\nI tell her to knock that shit off and I got my nut off\nAnd she washed my nuts off, ayy\nYeah, I want that shit (Okay)\nI got that shit, pop that shit, got rich quick, suck my\u2014 (Ooh)\nYou know it make me goddamn numb (Ayy, yeah)\nWhen I see 'em die so goddamn young\nI don't wanna die too young (I'm too young)\nToo young (Too young)\nToo young (Too young)\nCountin' bands, hallelujah (Too young, goddamn)\n'Lujah (Goddamn)\n'Lujah, yuh (Yeah)\nI don't wanna die too young (No way)\nToo young (Too young)\nToo young, uh (Too young)\nI've been grindin' way too long (Too long)\nToo long (Too long)\nToo long, uh (Too long)\n\nI don't wanna die too young, too young, too young\nCountin' bands, hallelujah, 'lujah, 'lujah, yuh\nI don't wanna die too young, too young, too young, uh"}
{"text":"63 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsNo Option Lyrics\nHo, I look so clean and them motherfuckers just talkin'\nShow up at the spot and now everyone, they all watchin'\nDon't wanna prove you wrong, but shit, you leave me with no option\nYeah, yeah\nEverybody askin', \"Post, when is the album droppin'?\"\nEver since the very first day at it, I been poppin'\nDon't wanna prove you wrong, but shit, you leave me with no option\nYeah, yeah\nOoh, swingin' with a four-door\nNow they takin' photos\nBottles, we need more of those, ooh\nSay she been to every show\nYeah, even on the road\nAnd she always be in front row, ooh, yeah\nEverything that I worked for\nWaited so long to get on\nThe Caddy just sits on the chrome\nI swang through on dubs on the four\n\nBaby wanna get in this S-Class (S-Class)\nLittle mama, she just wanna go fast (Go fast)\nYou know, baby, you don't get a free pass (Free pass)\nSo I told her, \"Ass, gas, or grass\"\nRolex with the diamonds keep me shinin'\nGotta have perfect timin' when I'm ridin'\nBrand new Aston Martin with no mileage\nOoh, ooh, ooh, yeah\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nHo, I look so clean and them motherfuckers just talkin'\nShow up at the spot and now everyone, they all watchin'\nDon't wanna prove you wrong, but shit, you leave me with no option\nYeah, yeah (Ooh)\n\nNow she hoppin' in a old-school\nSwimmin' in the carpool\nEverything is all cool, ooh\nYeah, she told me not to tell\n'Bout the rumors that I heard\nShe said, \"Everything was all true,\" yeah\n\nBaby wanna get in this S-Class (S-Class)\nLittle mama, she just wanna go fast (Go fast)\nYou know, baby, you don't get a free pass (Free pass)\nSo I told her, \"Ass, gas, or grass\"\nRolex with the diamonds keep me shinin'\nGotta have perfect timin' when I'm ridin'\nBrand new Aston Martin with no mileage\nOoh, ooh, ooh, yeah\n\nJust me and lil' mama, yeah\nRidin' around LA\nJust me and lil' mama, yeah\nWe own the city, yeah\nBaby wanna get in this S-Class (S-Class)\nLittle mama, she just wanna go fast (Go fast)\nYou know, baby, you don't get a free pass (Free pass)\nSo I told her, \"Ass, gas, or grass\"\nRolex with the diamonds keep me shinin'\nGotta have perfect timin' when I'm ridin'\nBrand new Aston Martin with no mileage\nOoh, ooh (Yeah)\n\nSo come hop in that, ooh\nWhat do you wanna do?\nPut that dime in my coupe\nWith that gold on my tooth\nOoh, yeah"}
{"text":"Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah\nYeah, you'd die for me\nSaid you'd die, said you'd die\nBut\u2005you\u2005lied, you lied\u2005to me\n\nSaid you'd take a bullet,\u2005told me you would die for me\nI had a really bad feeling you'd been lying to me\nWe were on the low, but you were getting high with me\nWhen it's past 11, that's a different side I see\nSaid you'd die for me, you'd die for me, you'd die for me\nBut you lied to me, you lied to me, you lied to me\nSaid you'd die for me, you'd die for me, you'd die for me\nBut you lied to me, you lied to me, you lied to me\n\nIt was love at first sight, felt like you were chosen (Oh)\nBut that blood in your veins, yeah, I know it's frozen (It's so cold)\nGot no patience no more (No), been waitin' too long (Yeah)\nYou hid that shit away and I was the last one to know, bitch (Ayy, ooh)\nI heard you comin' in, I was lyin' there awake (Awake)\nDidn't know that it was you, got the gun right out the safe (Damn)\nRemember when you got my ass arrested (Wow)\nAt least when I was in jail, I got some rest in (Yeah)\nOoh, I surrender (Ayy), time to forget ya (Ayy)\nI'm too tired to forgive ya (Ayy), it's too hard on my liver (Ayy)\nAnd you know (Ayy) it\u2019s all (Ayy) over now\nAll your friends (Ayy), you know (Ayy) they sold you out\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nSaid you'd take a bullet, told me you would die for me (Die for me)\nI had a really bad feeling you'd been lying to me (Lying to me)\nWe were on the low, but you were getting high with me (High with me)\nWhen it's past 11, that's a different side I see (Side I see)\nSaid you'd die for me, you'd die for me, you'd die for me (Die, die, die)\nBut you lied to me, you lied to me, you lied to me (Lie, lie, lie)\nSaid you'd die for me, you'd die for me, you'd die for me (Die, die, die)\nBut you lied to me, you lied to me, you lied to me, yeah (You lied, yeah)\n\nIt was a VIP, happened to be one of my best nights (Yeah)\n9 AM, I came from out the club, it was daylight (Daylight)\nGot a bad girl, I was treating her too nice (I was treating her too nice)\nCaught you being vulnerable, that ain't what I need, ayy (That ain't what I need)\nYou just sold your soul, girl, quit crying (Sold your soul)\nFrom your passport, it looks like you lying (Know you cold)\nYou broken down by your past, don't deny it (You know I know)\nYour ex called, you was vulnerable, you flying, nah (Flying)\nWasn't on the best of terms, girl, I was trying (I was trying on ya)\nI did everything to reach out to you (I was reaching out)\nSaid you never had me caught up in no\u00a0drama (No drama)\nI done ran into my karma (I done ran)\n\nSaid you'd take a bullet, told me you would die for me (That you would die)\nI had a really bad feeling you'd been lying to me (You'd been lying)\nWe been on the low, but you been getting high with me (You was high)\nWhen it's past 11, that's a different side I see (A different side)\nSaid you'd die for me, you'd die for me, you'd die for me (Said you'd die, you said you'd die)\nBut you lied to me, you lied to me, you lied to me (Know you're lying)\nSaid you'd die for me, you'd die for me, you'd die for me (Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah)\nBut you lied to me, you lied to me, you lied to me\nSettle down, I'll spell it out, it's simple enough\nI came around, I figured out, should follow my gut\nI don't play anymore, I went through your phone\nAnd called the girls in your DMs and took all them home\nAnd I know it's been a while since the last time you heard from me\nGrew into a savage and that's why they gave this verse to me\nTurns out it shows 'cause they turn out at shows\nI sold fifteen million copies of a break-up note\nBrought some strangers in our beds\nAnd now you lost your right to privacy\nSpilling all our secrets\nWhen you thought they'd probably die with me\nKnow you fucking love it on the low\nAnd you don't have to say I'm crazy\n'Cause I know nothing's changed though\n\nSaid you'd take a bullet, told me you would die for me\n(You'd die, you'd die, you'd die)\nI had a really bad feeling you'd been lying to me\n(But you lied, you lied, you lied)\nWe were on the low, but you were getting high with me\n(You'd die, you'd die, you'd die)\nWhen it's past 11, that's a different side I see\n(But you lied, you lied, you lied)\nSaid you'd die for me, you'd die for me, you'd die for me\n(You'd die, you'd die, you'd die)\nBut you lied to me, you lied to me, you lied to me\n(But you lied, you lied, you lied)\nSaid you'd die for me, you'd die for me, you'd die for me\n(You'd die, you'd die, you'd die)\nBut you lied to me, you lied to me, you lied to me\n(But you lied, you lied, you lied)"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eNederlandsRich & Sad Lyrics\nHunnid thousand for the chain and now my drop (Drop, drop)\nWhen I pull out the garage, I chop my top (Top, top)\nJust like a fiend, when I start I cannot stop (Whoa)\nI got, I got hella guap, look at me now (At me now)\nOoh, covered in carats, ooh, mahogany cabinets\nOoh, I ball like the Mavericks, ooh, stable and stallions\nOoh, massive medallions, ooh, I finally had it\nOoh, but then you just vanished, damn, I thought I was savage\n\nAll this stuntin' couldn't satisfy my soul (\u2013oul)\nGot a hundred big places, but I'm still alone (\u2013one)\n\nAyy, I would throw it all away\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay\nYou ain't never cared about that bullshit anyway\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay, ayy\nYou know I would throw it all away\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay\nPrice went up, my price went up, we went our separate ways\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay, ayy, ayy\n\nBuy me love, tried to buy me love\nNow I'm alone, Ice Box, Omarion (Ooh)\nPlenty sluts grabbin' on my nuts (Whoa)\nMight have fucked, it was only lust (Trust)\nI was livin' life, how could I have known? (Could have known)\nCouldn't listen to advice 'cause I'm never wrong (Oh)\nIn the spotlight, but I'm on my own (Oh)\nNow that you're gone (Now that you're gone)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nAll this stuntin' couldn't satisfy my soul (\u2013oul)\nGot a hundred big places, but I'm still alone (\u2013one)\n\nAyy, I would throw it all away\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay\nYou ain't never cared about that bullshit anyway\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay, ayy\nYou know I would throw it all away\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay\nPrice went up, my price went up, we went our separate ways\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay, ayy, ayy\n\nI don't even wanna go home\nIn a big house all alone (Alone)\nI don't even wanna go home (No, no, no)\nBut I'ma try to call you on the phone\nBrrt\n\nI would throw it all away\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay\nYou ain't never cared about that bullshit anyway\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay (Made you stay), ayy\nYou know I would throw it all away  (All away)\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay (Made you stay)\nPrice went up, my price went up, we went our separate ways (Separate ways)\nI just keep on wishin' that the money made you stay (Made you stay) ayy, ayy"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsTranslationsNederlands92 Explorer Lyrics\nOoh-ooh, wow\nAhh, yeah-yeah (Wow)\nYeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah\nWe got London on the track\n\nHunnid and twenty, come catch me\nForties inside of my belly\nShouldn't be drivin', I'm faded (Skrt, yeah)\nRock that Nirvana, my favorite\nDamn, I forgot what her name is\nShe in the front seat, head-bangin' (Yeah, yeah)\nYeah, money counter sound somethin' like a chopper, chopper (Chopper, chopper)\nSpeaker system bumpin', fuck your fuckin' block up (Fuck your block up)\nUsed to mock him, now it's custom Bentley mock-ups (Mock-ups)\nKiller drop, a call from lockup\nIf you buy that Echo, why you lyin'? You broke\nGot a nine in my tote, get you smoked like a stoge\nKeep on ridin' my coat, your new shit is a joke\nWhy you bitin' my flows? What you tryna be, Post?\nYeah\n\nOoh, baby, ooh, baby, guap keep expandin'\nOoh, yuck me up, I don't want no romancin'\nOoh, baby, I see these muhfuckas' glancin'\nWhen my whip stop, then my wheels keep spinnin' (Skrt)\nOoh, baby, ooh, baby, guap keep expandin'\nOoh, yuck me up, I don't want no romancin'\nOoh, baby, I see these muhfuckas' glancin'\nWhen my whip stop, then my wheels keep spinnin'\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\n(Ooh)\nShe used to shoppin' at the mall (Ooh)\nI'll teach lil baby how to ball\nI hit Rodeo, spent like 40 G's (Wow)\nFour hunnid pairs of Gucci socks (Socks)\nI lost all my friends, made a lot of foes\nMade a lot of M's, made a lot of moves\nOpen up the safe (Ooh), I'm just with the bros\nCop the 458, cost me 250 (Yeah)\nMan, look at all my ice (Ice)\nI hit your main thing twice (Your main thing twice)\nTake a word of advice (A word of advice)\nBreak up with that ho (Ho)\n\nOoh, baby, ooh, baby, guap keep expandin'\nOoh, yuck me up, I don't want no romancin' (Ohh)\nOoh, baby, I see these muhfuckas' glancin' (Ahh)\nWhen my whip stop, then my wheels keep spinnin' (Skrt)\nOoh, baby, ooh, baby, guap keep expandin' (Skrt)\nOoh, yuck me up, I don't want no romancin' (Skrt)\nOoh, baby, I see these muhfuckas' glancin'\nWhen my whip stop, then my wheels keep spinnin'\n\nCold wrist frozen\nGot sacks, Goldman\nBought the bar, Roseanne\nNo joke, deadpan\nOoh, baby, ooh, baby, guap keep expandin'\nOoh, yuck me up, I don't want no romancin'\nOoh, baby, I see these muhfuckas glancin'\nWhen my whip stop, then my wheels keep spinnin' (Skrt, skrt)\nOoh, baby, ooh, baby, guap keep expandin' (Skrt)\nOoh, yuck me up, I don't want no romancin' (Skrt)\nOoh, baby, I see these muhfuckas glancin' (Skrt)\nWhen my whip stop, then my wheels keep spinnin'\n\nOoh (Ooo-ooo)\nYeah, haha (Ooo-ooo)\nOoh (Ooo-ooo)\n(Ooo-ooo)\nWe got London On Da Track"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1olNederlandsSaint-Tropez Lyrics\nOoh, yeah, yeah, hey\n\nSuch a long time (Wow)\nI've been waitin', I've been waitin' for a\u2005long\u2005time (Yeah)\nSuch a\u2005long time\nI've been waitin', I've been\u2005waitin' for a long time (Yeah)\nSuch a long time (Ooh)\n\nOoh, this shit bliss, I'm so rich (Turnt as shit, ooh)\nAbs like Abercrombie Fitch (Damn, ooh)\nMille, on my (Whoa, wrist, wrist)\nVersace boxers on my dick (On my dick, damn)\nBud Light runnin' through my piss (Ooh)\nOn a yacht, 50 meters, it's offish (It's official)\n50 carats on my fist (On my fist)\nThe roof go down when I hit switch (Ooh, bitch)\nI money ball like Bradley Pitt (Bradley Pitt, ayy)\nI worked so hard for all this shit (All this shit)\nPumpin' out classics (Ooh)\nIn the Batmobile, goin' bat shit\n\nSuch a long time (Damn)\nI've been waitin', I've been waitin' for a long time (Such a long time)\nSuch a long time (Such a long time)\nI've been waitin', I've been waitin' for a long time (For a long time)\nSuch a long time\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI'm in Saint-Tropez, I had to check wrist (Wow)\nI just bought my girl a new necklace (A new necklace)\nOne, two, three, four, five, six (Five, six)\nI'll take 'em all, don't matter what the price is (What the price is)\nI said I'm sorry mama for my vices (For my vices)\nYou'll never understand what my life is (My life is)\nOne, two, three, four, five, six (Damn)\nShit, I'm checking off my bucket list (My bucket list)\nYou try to give advice, I don't need it\nI've been doin' what I want since fetus\nWhat you call a holiday (Ooh), I call another day (Yeah)\nAnd I ain't ever stoppin', no apologies\n\nSuch a long time (Such a long time)\nI've been waitin', I've been waitin' for a long time (Such a long time)\nSuch a long time (Such a long time)\nI've been waitin', I've been waitin' for a long time (A long time)\nSuch a long time\n\nI'm in Saint-Tropez, I had to check wrist"}
{"text":"81 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsBall For Me Lyrics\nUh-uh-uh-uh-uh-uh, ball for me\n\nBaby, could you? I got too much on my mind right now (Oh-oh-oh)\nI ain't got the time to get you Saint Laurent now\nCould you? I got too much on my mind right now (Oh-oh-oh)\nTime to hit Rodeo, give my baby 30 thou'\n\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, ball for me\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, b-ball for me, yeah\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, ball for me\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, b-ball for me, yeah\n\nI'm on the road, I'm gettin' paid, like what you want, baby? (What you want, baby?)\nYou're bougie, baby, but I love you, baby, give you the world, baby (You the world, baby)\nPaid five grand for a handbag, that's Saint Laurent, baby (Saint Laurent, baby)\nDamn, you love that money, baby (Oh-oh-oh)\nHunnid thousand plus hunnid thousand, my whip (My whip, my whip)\n30 thousand plus 30 thousand, my wrist (My wrist, my wrist)\nWe got alcohol, plus bad bitches, that's lit (That's lit, that's lit)\nI swear, baby, we was just kissin', that's it (That's it, that's it) (Oh-oh-oh)\nHow could I forget the shit that you done done for me? (For me)\nBaby gonna take the charge and take the fall for me (For me)\nWould love to take you shoppin', but girl, I'm in Europe tourin'\nSorry, lil' mama, I can't give you more\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nBaby, could you? I got too much on my mind right now (Oh-oh-oh)\nI ain't got the time to get you Saint Laurent now\nCould you? I got too much on my mind right now (Oh-oh-oh)\nTime to hit Rodeo, give my baby 30 thou'\n\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, ball for me\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, b-ball for me, yeah\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, ball for me\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, b-ball for me, yeah\n\nYo, gotta hit him on the jack\nWhen you comin' back? Where is you at on the map?\nEverything is intact\nCoulda been a seamstress, still wouldn't cut him slack\nPretty much, ain't got a clue\nItty bitty piggyback off everything I do\nBut I'm still droppin' jaws\nGot 'em lookin' like James Harden at the awards (Oh-oh-oh)\nBack to you, I'm so into you\nFor real, breh like I'm kin to you\nIf you a 10, I add 10 to you\nThey be mad when I tend to you\nThat's what the bae like\nCall me Buffy 'cause that's what I slay like\nThese bitches, I son 'em like it's daylight\nThese niggas wanna know what it tastes like (Oh-oh-oh)\nWhat it tastes like, yo, what it tastes like, yo\nThey wanna know what it tastes like, yo\nAll this ice, it should taste like snow\nGet kimonos and let's fly to Tokyo\nPretty, pretty please baby, won't you cop this for me? (Uh)\nBaby, could you? I got too much on my mind right now (Oh-oh-oh)\nI ain't got the time to get you Saint Laurent now\nCould you? I got too much on my mind right now (Oh-oh-oh)\nTime to hit Rodeo, give my baby 30 thou'\n\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, ball for me\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, b-ball for me, yeah\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, ball for me (What it tastes like)\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, b-ball for me, yeah\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, ball for me (What it tastes like)\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, b-ball for me, yeah\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, ball for me  (What it tastes like)\nOo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-oo-ooh, b-ball for me, yeah"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easNederlandsSpoil My Night Lyrics\nYeah\n\nI don't have much to say, I'll be out front\nWon't you come spoil my night?\nFeelin's come into play and I'm thinkin' this happens every time\nSpoil my night, spoil my night\nSpoil my night (My night)\nSpoil my night, spoil my night\n\nMy necklace had a natural glow\nShe dancin' in the strobe\nLet's fuckin' spoil my night (Spoil my night)\nSpent so much cash, I lost her\nMy cup was too toxic\nI took the robe off (Yeah)\nI couldn't get her off me\nDropped plenty money on her thighs\nThere's plenty room in my ride\nI've never been like a small fry\nShe took me in, that's on my life\n\nSpoil my night, spoil my night\nSpoil my night (My night)\nSpoil my night, spoil my night\nI don't have much to say, I'll be out front\nWon't you come spoil my night? (Spoil my night)\nFeelin's come into play and I'm thinkin' this happens every time\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nYeah, when I walk up in a party, they all act like they know me\nThen I spotted lil' mama through the wall of jabronis (Ooh)\nPoint her out so I can bag her if they just bring her to me (bring her to me)\nI ain't even see the face, but she got beautiful boobies (Wow)\nAnd she see those diamonds in my teeth (In my teeth)\nI see her smilin' back at me (Back at me)\nI think she rock with me like Jumanji (Jumanji)\nIt's about time, Postmate Plan B\nNow she whippin' out her phone and I know (And I know)\nDamn, how many videos you gon' post?\nEverybody on the 'Gram gonna know\nMy girl at home now my line about to blow (Yeah)\nI know what I'm doin' ain't right\nBut ain't no need to spoil my night, no need, no need\n\nSpoil my night, spoil my night\nSpoil my night (My night)\nSpoil my night, spoil my night\nI don't have much to say, I'll be out front\nWon't you come spoil my night? (Spoil my night)\nFeelin's come into play and I'm thinkin' this happens every time (Yeah)\n\nSpoil my night, spoil my night\nSpoil my night, spoil my night\nSpoil my night, spoil my night"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisNederlandsItalianoT\u00fcrk\u00e7eOtherside Lyrics\nI been waitin', wide awake for the waves to come and take\nTake me right to you\nOne hundred bottles of the good shit couldn't even bring you back\nWhat am I to do?\nFeel like I'm circlin' a drain, all I see is the remains of an ugly truth (Of an ugly truth)\nOne hundred models I could follow all the way to hell and back, but they can't replace you (They can't replace you)\n\nOh, oh, oh, ohh\nOh, oh, oh, ohh\nOh, oh, oh, ohh, ohh\nOh, oh, oh, ohh\nOh, oh, oh, ohh\nOh, oh, oh, ohh, ohh\n\nI was puttin' on for you like a jersey\nWhat I didn't know then couldn't hurt me\nNever thought that you'd go and do me dirty\nLeft me in the cold, but on the inside I was burnin'\nBut that's just the way it goes\nWish that I could have control\nEverybody dies alone\n(And I ain't dead yet)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nSay my prayers, but I lost faith a long time ago (A long time ago)\nDream nightmares\nI guess we're gettin' used to losin' hope (Guess we're losing hope)\nI don't even wonder why you don't answer when I call your name\nAre you on the other side? Will you save us?\nOr will you run away?\n\nI'm still waitin', wide awake for the waves to come and take\nTake me right to you (Take me right to you)\nOne hundred vials of denial, I know they won't bring you back\nWhat am I to do? (What am I to do?)\nYou\u2019re my alibi and motive when I'm lyin' to myself, what an ugly truth (What an ugly truth)\nWe\u2019re no strangers to the flame\nWe will never be the same if we make it through (And we can make it through)\n\nMy back is up against the wall\nBut I used to feel invincible\nYeah, it was us against the world\nBut somehow, someway, the tables turned\nI remember back then\nPlayed my cards right you were my best hand\nStill you keep me guessin'\nWonder if I'll ever get the message\nSay my prayers, but I lost faith a long time ago (A long time ago)\nDream nightmares\nI guess we're gettin' used to losin' hope (Guess we're losing hope)\nI don't even wonder why you don't answer when I call your name\nAre you on the other side? Will you save us?\nOr will you run away?\n\nAre you on the other side? Will you save us?\nOr will you run away?"}
{"text":"50 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsFeel Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah-eah-eah-eah, yeah-eah, yeah-eah (Ooh)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah-eah (Oh-oh)\n\nShe talkin' that noise, take her lovin' with the dawn, all while I talk on the phone\nAfter we fuck in the morn', she wake up, she wearin' my clothes\nShe always be callin' my phone, she always be stealin' my clothes, ayy\nAskin' me, \"How does it feel when you know you could buy out the store?,\" ayy\nI'm Bathin' Ape down to the floor, ayy\nI'm droppin' the four in the foreign, ayy\nI came a long way on my own, ayy\nI'm doin' this shit on my own, ayy\nI don't give a fuck what I'm told, ayy\nI came a long way on my own, ayy\nNow her pussy made out of gold, ayy\nI swear her pussy ownin' my soul\nShe got that sauce, yeah, four days a hundred thousand\nForever like a diamond, she bring me back to life, yeah\nI'm so fly, I'm Martian, quit talkin' all that nonsense\nI'm just tryna fuck you 'til you don't know nothin', oh-oh-oh\n\nI cross my T's and dot my I's, yeah, I'm for real (Yeah, I'm for real)\nHe hold me down (He hold me down)\nThat's my shield (That's my shield)\nHe buy whatever, he know the drill (Know the drill)\nDon't need no pill (Need no pill, no)\nHe whispered in my ear and told me\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nFeel (Feel, feel, oh, oh)\nFeel (Feel, oh, ah, ah)\nFeel (Feel, oh, feel)\nOh-oh, oh-oh (Feel, feel, yeah, no)\n\nHe love that I say what I feel, he feel what I say 'cause it's real\nYou couldn't forget, I never changed up on my set\nAnd I only make calls to collect, that's why we connect\nWe can go half on a jet, baby, we on to the next, fuck all the stress\nFuckin' with bitches who's new to the game when you got you a vet\nI know you like it when I act like I'm still shy\nThen turn around and put that thing in overdrive, I'm down to ride\nI'ma keep you on my shoulder\n'Cause every cold nigga need a bae that's ten times colder, no\n\nI cross my T's and dot my I's, yeah, I'm for real (Yeah, I'm for real)\nHe hold me down (He hold me down)\nThat's my shield (That's my shield)\nHe buy whatever, he know the drill (Know the drill)\nDon't need no pill (Need no pill, no)\nHe whispered in my ear and told me\n\nFeel (Feel, yeah)\nFeel, ayy (Feel me, feel me)\nFeel (Feel), oh\nOh-oh, oh-oh (Feel, feel, oh)\nHey, fuck me 'til I can't see straight\nMake me think that ho was a mistake\nI just need to feel you all the time\nRide, ho, ride, ho, alright"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsZack and Codeine Lyrics\nMan, my life so sweet, I feel like Cody (Cody)\nI wake up, rinse my mouth with fuckin' codeine (Codeine)\nThirty bottles, yeah, the bill is on me (On me)\nBeen livin' fast, no, I can't take it slowly (Slowly)\nMan, my life so sweet, I feel like Cody (Cody)\nI wake up, rinse my mouth with fuckin' codeine (Codeine)\nWe on a bender, we ain't gettin' no sleep (No sleep)\nWe turned the hotel lobby to a party\n\nI'm whippin' a foreign, I can't whip no Beetle (Can't whip no Beetle, can't whip no Beetle)\nI rock that Saint Laurent over my beater (Over my beater)\nI like to stunt like I'm Evel Knievel (Ooh)\nBut, it don't mean nothin' without all my people (Oh)\nWhen I step up on stage, hands up to the sky (Hands up to the sky)\nEvery little thing I do, they always analyze (They always analyze)\nGave that bitch a little blow and then she come alive (Ooh, wow!)\nStarted dancin' on the table, like she had on mine (Yeah)\n\nI don't fuck with nobody (No), yeah, you hardly know me (Oh)\nWhat you take me for (Take me for), no, I can't save your soul (Oh)\nI don't fuck with nobody, yeah, you hardly know me (You don't know me, know me)\nPlease just leave me alone (Ayy)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nMan, my life so sweet, I feel like Cody (Cody)\nI wake up, rinse my mouth with fuckin' codeine (Codeine)\nThirty bottles, yeah, the bill is on me (On me)\nBeen livin' fast, no, I can't take it slowly (Slowly)\nMan, my life so sweet, I feel like Cody (Cody)\nI wake up, rinse my mouth with fuckin' codeine (Codeine)\nWe on a bender, we ain't gettin' no sleep (No sleep)\nWe turned the hotel lobby to a party\n\nMade a hundred bands, saw all your hands out (All your hands out)\nNo, my friend, can't do no handouts (Do no handouts)\nAll these rappers, all sound the same now (Sound the same now)\nSayin' I'm to blame, now y'all see me on the TV (Ooh)\nMultimillionaire by the time I'm 23 (Ooh)\nGettin' no sleep (No), ragin' for a week (Ooh)\nI hit number one and I ain't even hit my peak (Ahh)\nI just had to tell 'em\n\nI don't fuck with nobody, yeah, you hardly know me\nWhat you take me for, no, I can't save your soul\nI don't fuck with nobody, yeah, you hardly know me (Hardly know me)\nPlease just leave me alone (Leave me alone)\nMan, my life so sweet, I feel like Cody (Cody)\nI wake up, rinse my mouth with fuckin' codeine (Codeine)\nThirty bottles, yeah, the bill is on me (On me)\nBeen livin' fast, no, I can't take it slowly (Slowly)\nMan, my life so sweet, I feel like Cody (Cody)\nI wake up, rinse my mouth with fuckin' codeine (Codeine)\nWe on a bender, we ain't gettin' no sleep (No sleep)\nWe turned the hotel lobby to a party\n\nWe ain't sleepin', we ain't sleepin', we ain't (We ain't sleepin', we ain't sleepin')\nWe ain't sleepin', we ain't sleepin' tonight (No)\nWe ain't sleepin', we ain't sleepin', no way (Oh, yeah, we ain't sleepin')\nPour that drink, 'cause we ain't sleepin' tonight (No)"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisT\u00fcrk\u00e7eItalianoPost Malone -  A Thousand Bad Times (Nederlandse Vertaling)A Thousand Bad Times Lyrics\nYeah, oh, whoa, ooh\nYeah, yeah\n\nSaid you needed a ride, but you wanted my car\nWithout that\u2005face,\u2005girl, you wouldn't\u2005get far\nI really like you, despite\u2005who you are, oh (Who you are)\nYou see me on TV, you know I'm a star\nYou say you don't know me, but I know that's false\nI'll pay the price, girl, whatever that cost, oh (What it cost)\n\nYou make my life so hard\nBut that's what gets me off\n\nI had a thousand bad times\nSo what's another time to me? (What's that to me, yeah)\nYou try to burn my house down\nBut what's another house to me? (What's that to me, yeah)\n'Cause I can take anything that you give me (What you give me)\nIt's gonna take a lot more to kill me, bitch\nSo thank you for the grave (Yeah)\nI needed me a place to sleep (Place to sleep)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nAnd I don't wanna meet your mama (No)\nShe prolly crazier than you (She prolly crazier than you)\nI'm gonna need some thicker armor (Armor)\nTo spend another night with you (And on and on and on)\nBaby, I know just what to do\nEvery time you fuck me over, I'll come back to you\nBaby, I don't want to know the truth (Know the truth)\nI ignore them when they tell me all the shit you do (Shit you do)\nI always get my heart broke like I needed the practice (Needed)\nFoot on my throat 'til my world is collapsin' (Damn)\nBut this what I chose, it's the law of attraction, yeah (Attraction)\n(And on and on and on)\n\nGirl, you make my life so hard (So hard, so hard)\nBut that's what gets me off\n\nI had a thousand bad times\nSo what's another time to me? (So what's that to me, yeah)\nYou try to burn my house down\nBut what's another house to me? (So what's that to me, yeah)\n'Cause I can take anything that you give me (What you give me)\nIt's gonna take a lot more to kill me, bitch (Kill me)\nSo thank you for the grave (Yeah)\nI needed me a place to sleep (Place to sleep)\nI should get out, but I still want more\nI should get out, what am I waitin' for?\nIt's all the same to me, it's all a game to me\nIt's all the same to me, it's all the same\n\nI had a thousand bad times\nSo what's another time to me? (What's that to me)\nYou try to burn my house down\nBut what's another house to me? (What's that to me)\n'Cause I can take anything that you give me (What you give me)\nIt's gonna take a lot more to kill me, bitch (Kill me)\nSo thank you for the grave (Yeah)\nI needed me a place to sleep (Place to sleep)\nWe go there, oh"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eNederlandsLeave Lyrics\nOh-oh-oh-oh\n\nShe said, \"Love me\" so I love her (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nShe said, \"Leave me\" so I left (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nThen I went to California (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAnd I ain't never comin' back\nI got a high five from a brother (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nI got bloodstains on the bed (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAnd I ain't sayin' that I love her (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nBut this bitch is gonna drive me mad\nI said this bitch is gonna drive me mad (Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, oh-oh-oh-oh)\n\nYou got just what I been looking for\nBut you can't bring yourself to say no\nAnd I ain't never gonna let you go\nI kept wishing I would die, oh\nThe whole plane ride home\nAnd I wish I could\nI know I should leave you alone\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n\nI worship since I met you (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nI fell down to my knees (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nAnd when no one would accept ya (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nThrow myself up on a cross and bleed\nI seen a dark cloud coming over (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nI seen some evil shit in her head (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nBut she rode me like no other (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nBut this bitch is gonna drive me mad\nI said this bitch is gonna drive me mad (Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, oh-oh-oh-oh)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nYou got just what I been looking for\nBut you can't bring yourself to say no\nAnd I ain't never gonna let you go\nI kept wishing I would die, oh\nThat whole plane ride home\nAnd I wish I could\nI know I should leave you alone\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nYou got just what I been looking for\nBut you can't bring yourself to say no\nAnd I ain't never gonna let you go\nI kept wishing I would die, oh\nThat whole plane ride home\nAnd I wish I could\nI know I should leave you alone\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh)"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsSame Bitches Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\n\nI been in L.A. too long\nHow I see the same bitches everywhere I go?\nIt don't really matter where they from\nActin' or a model, heard it all before\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(How I see the same bitches?) Yeah, yeah\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(How I see the same bitches?) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nI hit your DM, baby\nTook the screenshot, yeah, you tried to play me\nI bet this shit was good for your reputation\nI just let it go, so I could see you naked\nHoly moly, look at what you rolled in\nMillion followers, but your bumpers broken\nWhat's your focus? Tell me what your goal is\nI know you only like me\n'Cause I just spent a hundred bands in one night\nSpent a hundred bands in one night\nI know you wanna live this life\nBut I can't make a ho a housewife (Oh, no)\nWhat's your name? Who's your daddy?\nIs he rich like me? Is he rich like me?\nYeah, yeah, yeah (Ayy)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI been in L.A. too long\nHow I see the same bitches everywhere I go?\nIt don't really matter where they from\nActin' or a model, heard it all before\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(How I see the same bitches?) (Uh, yeah)\nYeah, yeah\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(How I see the same bitches?) (Gerald)\nYeah, yeah, yeah (uh)\n\nEverywhere I go I see the same ho\nAlways post selfies on the 'Gram from a angle, a Catfish\nHollywood devil, not a angel\nHer bag is Chanel, but she drives a Durango\nYeah, and I'm gettin' to the queso\nWoke and I'm hip to the game, so I'm thankful\nOGs put me on tours, so I'm laced, bro\nReal recognizin' that you don't speak the lingo\nClothes all new, not a wrinkle\nGivin' you the game, gettin' sprinkled\nBottles on deck and my drink full\nI turn into a beast, I'm a dog, I'm a pitbull\nThis life did it to me, I can't switch back\nIf I take her then you'll never get your bitch back\nYeah, the beat knockin', yeah, this shit clap\nWelcome to the west it's where people gettin' rich at, ayy\nI been in L.A. too long (G)\nHow I see the same bitches everywhere I go? (It's Eazy, you know?)\nIt don't really matter where they from (Yee, yee, yee)\nActin' or a model, heard it all before (Ayy)\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(West side nigga)\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(Hol' up, let me talk my shit, hol' up)\nYeah, yeah, yeah\n\nI been in L.A. too long\nMe and my bros hit the same hoes\nL.A., Hollywood, that's some Valley hoes\nDo I know how to fuck? They all know\nYeah, yeah, fuck it, go down baby, you ratchet\nI'm with the program, baby (Yeah)\nWord in the streets, you with the whole town, baby\nI'm tryna do it for the brother like Motown, baby (For the record)\nShe fucked the L.A. Laker for the record\nShe fucked a Dodger baseball player for the record\nShe fucked the head of my record label, ooh\nHow you think she been so stable?\nAh, damn, ah, damn, but she down to fuck\nDesigner everything, Benz Truck\nPullin' up with you friend, tell me who she is\nOh, never mind, my friend fucked\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(How I see the same bitches?) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Haha, oh, never mind, my friend fucked)\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(How I see the same bitches?) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Haha, never mind, my friend fucked)\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(How I see the same bitches?) Yeah, yeah, yeah\nPopulation four million, how I see the same bitches?\n(How I see the same bitches?) Yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsSugar Wraith Lyrics\nI started with an eighth, alright (Alright)\nAnd then I went and changed my life (My life)\nI might take out the Wraith tonight (Tonight)\nPut your arms around me, baby\nI just want to fly, make it last before we die\nAnd I know you want a ride\nWhat's on your mind? What's on your mind?\n\nAnd my '92 got doors like my Lambo\nSpend my last paycheck on some ammo\nWe don't follow trends, rest in peace to Yamo\nYour new shit sucks, I feel like Anthony Fantano (Ooh)\nSayin' I was broke last year, I can't go back there\nNicotine fiend, couldn't even buy a pack, yeah\nShe don't know my music, told her I ain't mad, yeah\nLet her cut that coco on my platinum plaque, yeah (Wow)\nCut my fingers on my bands, oh yeah\nCut my locker with some Xan, oh yeah\nCount me my guala in advance, oh yeah\nBackstreet diamonds, watch them dance on ya, yeah\n\nI started with an eighth, alright (Alright)\nAnd then I went and changed my life (My life)\nI might take out the Wraith tonight (Tonight)\nPut your arms around me, baby\nI just want to fly, make it last before we die\nAnd I know you want a ride\nWhat's on your mind? What's on your mind?\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nShe don't want to spend all my dough\nShe gets paid to be a model (Model, model)\nI take the lead, they just follow\nFace it, you don't know what I know\nPull up, I got some' for ya\nSomethin' in my trunk for ya\nBut I got a good lawyer\nThey always try to come for ya\n\nI'ma pull up in that Bentley with the fuckin' windows tinted (Ooh)\n'Pendin' how I'm feelin', take a drop of the extended (Skrt)\nThink I'm showin' signs of slowin', homie, just forget it\nI guess this what happens when you fuckin' handle business, yeah\n\nI started with an eighth, alright (Alright)\nAnd then I went and changed my life (My life)\nI might take out the Wraith tonight (Tonight)\nPut your arms around me, baby\nI just want to fly, make it last before we die\nAnd I know you want a ride\nWhat's on your mind? What's on your mind?\n\nI was broke last year, I can't go back there\nI was broke last year, I can't go back there\nGasoline and I went and lit a match, yeah\nTry to take the swagger, I know it for a fact, yeah\nPull up in that Bentley with the fuckin' windows tinted (Skrt)\n'Pendin' how I'm feelin', take a drop of the extended (Skrt)\nThink I'm showin' signs of slowin', homie, just forget it\nI guess this what happens when you fuckin' handle business, yeah\n\nI started with an eighth, alright (Alright)\nAnd then I went and changed my life (My life)\nI might take out the Wraith tonight (Tonight)\nPut your arms around me, baby\nI just want to fly, make it last before we die\nAnd I know you want a ride\nWhat's on your mind? What's on your mind?\n\nI wanna fly, I wanna fly, yeah\nI wanna fly, I wanna fly, yeah\nI wanna fly\nI wanna fly, I wanna fly, yeah"}
{"text":"(d.a. got that dope)\n\nCount up the bands stickin' up\nNo rubber band is big enough\nChain is so heavy, can't pick it up\nCame with the gang, a myriad\nI seen your whip, hilarious\nWhere is my roof? Mysterious\nMy whip from Fast & Furious\nCurtains with yellow interior\nI get the commas, period\nCovered in ice, Siberia\nI'm at the top of the pyramid\nBitch, I'm a star, I'm Sirius\nWe came to play, are you serious?\nCame with the gang, a myriad\nCame with the gang, a myriad\nCame with the motley crew\n\nSit up, ball, I just forgot where I was\nPour it up, throw it up, sit up, woah\nGet up, bitch, get up, bitch, get up\nCame with a wig splitter\nI got John Wick hitters (Ooh)\nI'm a go-get-g\u0435tter (Wow, uh)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nCame with the army, army, army, y\u0435ah\nThe people 'round me still the same\nWe just wanna party, party, party, yeah\nWe rowdy and won't never change\n\nCount up the bands stickin' up\nNo rubber band is big enough\nChain is so heavy, can't pick it up\nCame with the gang, a myriad\nI seen your whip, hilarious\nWhere is my roof? Mysterious\nMy whip from Fast & Furious\nCurtains with yellow interior\nI get the commas, period\nCovered in ice, Siberia\nI'm at the top of the pyramid\nBitch, I'm a star, I'm Sirius\nWe came to play, are you serious?\nCame with the gang, a myriad\nCame with the gang, a myriad\nCame with the motley crew\n\nWhat you gon' do? I'ma pull up with the crew\nWhen I'm off the juice, I like to hang out the roof\nI'm rockin' jewels, I like when the diamonds, they move\nI just go through, I do not wait in the queue\nBaby, baby, pinky, Brady, Brady\nAP navy, navy, chain like two Mercedes\nI'll come when they pay me, come with Katy, Amy\nCrew go crazy, crazy, kick it, Dan Bailey (Uh)\nCame with the army, army, army, yeah\nThe people 'round me still the same\nWe just wanna party, party, party, yeah\nWe rowdy and won't never change\n\nCount up the bands stickin' up\nNo rubber band is big enough\nChain is so heavy, can't pick it up\nCame with the gang, a myriad\nI seen your whip, hilarious\nWhere is my roof? Mysterious\nMy whip from Fast & Furious\nCurtains with yellow interior\nI get the commas, period\nCovered in ice, Siberia\nI'm at the top of the pyramid\nBitch, I'm a star, I'm Sirius\nWe came to play, are you serious?\nCame with the gang, a myriad\nCame with the gang, a myriad\nCame with the motley crew"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7ePost Malone - Enemies ft. DaBaby (Traducci\u00f3n al Espa\u00f1ol)PolskiPost Malone -  Enemies (Ft. DaBaby) Enemies Lyrics\nUsed to have friends, now I got enemies (Ooh)\nUsed to keep 'em close, now they\u2005dead\u2005to me (Damn)\nUsed\u2005to have friends, now I got\u2005enemies (Ooh)\nEnemies, yeah, it's so sad\n\nThey said I would never get this far, ah, ah\nThink that we don't see who you are, are, are?\nLaughin' to the bank like ha, ha, ha\nGuess that I'm just talkin' too much blah, blah, blah (Shut the fuck up)\nSo, where did y'all go? (Ooh)\nWhen I was shit broke, couldn't even buy smokes\nNow your mama needs tickets to my stadium show (Stadium show)\nShe love it when she hear me on the radio, oh\nI know it's hard to swallow your pride\nSorry that you can't get over me (Over me)\nNow you're out my life, I'm so relieved, I\n\nUsed to have friends, now I got enemies (Damn)\nUsed to keep 'em close, now they dead to me (Ooh)\nMoney tend to show all they tendencies (Damn)\nEnemies, yeah, it's so sad\n\nSometimes, every time, they let me down (They let me down)\nSometimes, every time, they let me down (They let me down)\nUsed to have friends, now I got enemies\nEnemies, yeah, it's so sad\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nClose to my enemies (Let's go)\nI need better energy (Huh?)\nWhen I told you fuck you, you thought I was playin', huh?\n(Yeah, yeah) But I meant the shit literally\nShe want to vibe but I told her fuck that (Nope)\nShe looking at me like she surprised\nThey're packin' the post and I'm home alone\nWhen the box hit the door, they go for 35\nI try to put on for my partners, they turn into enemies right before a nigga eye\nYou reach for a shake, I'ma hold out a fist\nGiving a nigga a quarter pound without the fries\nI just went double platinum with no features\nJust to show a nigga I don't really need him\nPass a man a plate and he can make it shake\nIt's guaranteed he'll fold and bite the hand that feed him\nAnd I know you think that I ain't see it\nAnd I know you bitch ain't got a car\nDon't make me go and buy a bitch a lil' Prius\nFuck on the camera, we can call it even\nFriends are like the autumn, every year they leavin'\nAnd I'ma rake 'em in a pile, throw 'em in a bag\nTie them bitches up and leave 'em\n'Cause most of these niggas are deceiving\nAnd I (Ooh)\nUsed to have friends, now I got enemies (Damn)\nUsed to keep 'em close, now they dead to me (Ooh)\nMoney tend to show all they tendencies (Damn)\nEnemies, yeah, it's so sad\n\nSometimes, every time, they let me down (They let me down)\nSometimes, every time, they let me down (They let me down)\nUsed to have friends, now I got enemies\nEnemies, yeah, it's so sad\n\nIt's too late to turn this shit around (It's too late)\nOnly held me down when you wanted me to drown\nIt's too late to turn this shit around (It's too late)\nSo don't try and tell me that you're happy for me now\n\nUsed to have friends, now I got enemies\nUsed to keep 'em close, now they dead to me (Dead to me)\nMoney tend to show all they tendencies (Tendencies)\nEnemies, yeah, it's so sad\n\nSometimes, every time, they let me down (They let me down)\nSometimes, every time, they let me down (They let me down)\nUsed to have friends, now I got enemies\nEnemies, yeah, it's so sad\nOoh, it's too late\nIt's too late"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1olOn the Road Lyrics\nMm, mm, mm\nMm\n\n'Cause they ain\u2019t ever seein' me fold under pressure\nThey ain't never, ever seen\u2005me\u2005fold, nah, never\nAlways\u2005keep one up on \u2019em 'cause\u2005I'm too clever\nI would never, ever sell my soul, nah, never\n'Cause I been on the road, been on the road, I\nQuit actin' like you been with me this whole time\n'Cause I been on the road, been on the road, I\nQuit actin' like you been with me this whole time\n\nYeah, they bet I'ma fall\nAnd I\u2019m only 24, but, bitch, I been through it all\nI got so many hits, can\u2019t remember them all (Ooh)\nWhile I'm takin\u2019 a shit, look at the plaques on the wall\nY'all just sit back, get your kick back\nKeep on actin' like you did that, got no respect\nFor nobody who's just fake in life, ayy, ayy\nYou ain\u2019t really who you say you are\nSo pick up the pace, there ain't no slowin' me up (Slowin' me up)\nGet the fuck out my face, can you stop blowing me up?\n'Cause my time is expensive, one mill a setlist\nBought a new car 'fore you woke up for breakfast, yeah\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\n'Cause they ain't ever seen me fold under pressure\nThey ain't never, ever seen me fold, nah, never\nAlways keep one up on 'em 'cause I'm too clever (Too clever)\nI would never, ever sell my soul, nah, never\n'Cause I been on the road, been on the road, I\nQuit actin' like you been with me this whole time\n'Cause I been on the road, been on the road, I\nQuit actin' like you been with me this whole time\n\nYeah, where you been? (Where you been?)\nWhen it was time to do some work and put it in (Put it in)\nI just be laughin' when I see 'em, look at them (Ha)\nLeave when I lose and pop back up as soon as I win (Uh)\nYou ain't my day one and I know you not my friend\nSo I can't judge you when you do some phony shit and just pretend\nLike you really down with me, because bein' loyal starts within\nI seen that money overpower that love and turn it thin\nBut it ain't stop me, I just kept goin' up, took it on the chin\nI wish every time they said I would fold, I'd make an M\nFuck around and be as rich as Jeff Bezos, say it again\nNever lose, I go overtime on 'em, stay in that gym\nLet's get it\n\n'Cause they ain't ever seein' me fold under pressure\nThey ain't never, ever seen me fold, nah, never\nAlways keep one up on 'em 'cause I'm too clever\nI would never, ever sell my soul, nah, never\n'Cause I been on the road, been on the road, I\nQuit actin' like you been with me this whole time\n'Cause I been on the road, been on the road, I\nQuit actin' like you been with me this whole time\nI'm tired of bein' tired\nThis my last shot, you can't be mad, at least I tried\nWe supposed to be grown, but yet you still acting childish\nI can get on the jet alone, I don't need no extra baggage\nThis year turned into a savage, I got baguettes in my necklace\nDriving fast and I won't crash it and I'm supposed to be sober\nBut some kind of way, I just keep getting loaded\nIt's gonna take more than some pressure to fold me\nTried as hard as I can, but at this point it's outta my hands\nI ain't runnin' out of these bands for nothin' or no one\nShe say I'm a dog, but it takes one to know one\nBeen goin' hard, been by myself, I don't need no love\n\n'Cause they ain't ever seein' me fold under pressure\nThey ain't never, ever seen me fold, nah, never\nAlways keep one up on 'em 'cause I'm too clever\nI would never, ever sell my soul, nah, never\n'Cause I been on the road, been on the road, I\nQuit actin' like you been with me this whole time\n'Cause I been on the road, been on the road, I\nQuit actin' like you been with me this whole time\n\nMm, oh, oh no\nMm, oh, oh no\nOn the road, oh"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eNederlandsBlame It On Me Lyrics\nI used to say I was free\nNow all these people wanna keep on takin' pieces of me\nThey take away everything, had everything that I needed\nThey held me down, let me drown\nThey spit me out, right through the teeth\nI can't pretend, ash in the wind, won't blow again\nIt was a breeze for you (Breeze for you)\nThese hurricanes inside of my brain, let it rain, made it look easy Can't look away, you love the pain, you love the pain\n\nWatchin' me bleed\nYou cut me down on my knees\nNo matter what you believe\nI think we both can agree\n\nThat you can't blame it on me (Ayy)\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault\nBlame it on me (Ayy)\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault\nI couldn't breathe\nAlmost lost myself, couldn't stop myself, I did it all\nYou can't blame it on me (Ayy)\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nEvery day's the same, yeah, I just watch 'em go\nAs I scrape away through the impossible\nYeah, I played the game but it was all for show\nTryna find my way, I nearly lost it though\nNow I see dead people, most have no faith\nWhere did the time go? A watch with no face\nThey hit the ceilin', but my roof likes space\nI took my chances so won't you\n\nBlame it on me (Ayy)\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault\nBlame it on me (Ayy)\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault\nI couldn't breathe\nAlmost lost myself, couldn't stop myself, I did it all\nYou can't blame it on me (Ayy)\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault, not my fault\n\nIt's all my fault that I'm addicted to the clothes\nIt's all my fault, I paid the cost, yeah\nIt's all my fault that I ain't givin' up my soul\nIt's all my fault\nWatchin' me bleed (Watchin' me bleed)\nYou cut me down on my knees (You cut me down on my knees)\nNo matter what you believe\nI think we both can agree\n\nThat you can't blame it on me (Ayy)\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault\nBlame it on me (Ayy)\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault\nI couldn't breathe\nAlmost lost myself, couldn't stop myself, I did it all\nYou can't blame it on me (Ayy)\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault\n\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault\nBlame it on me, yeah\nIt's not my fault, it's not my fault, it's not my fault"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsPatient Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah\n\nYeah, I know my wrist be dancin' crazy (Crazy)\nBeen on some fly shit lately (Lately)\nUsed to be so damn patient (Patient)\nBut now it's \"Fuck you, pay me\" (Pay me)\nCan't let these motherfuckers phase me (Phase me)\nNever let that money change me (Change me)\nAin't the way my mama raised me (Raised me)\nDon't mean to brag, but can you blame me? (Yeah)\n\nTwo hundred K and VVS, yellow diamonds (Skrrt, skrrt)\nThey wanna run up but they won't never find me (No way)\nSleep right next to the F&N, motherfuckers the government\nShut down all the plotting (Bop, bop, bop, uh)\nOne hundred bands on my body (Ooh, ooh)\nYeah, fuck with them boys, touch your body (Touch your body, touch your)\nLil' mama just want my pockets (Outta pocket)\nYeah, 'Rari take off like a rocket (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nYeah, hold up, you too close (You too close)\nI don't know, I don't know ya (I don't know ya, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nHad to run it, run it up (Run it up)\nHow I roll, how I roll, yeah (That's how I roll)\nIt's like after you pop off (Pop off)\nThey all act like they know ya (They know ya)\nAnd Young Post be like Pablo (Like Pablo)\nAnd they all love to blow, yeah (Yeah, yeah)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI know my wrist be dancin' crazy (Whoa)\nBeen on some fly shit lately (Whoa)\nUsed to be so damn patient (Whoa)\nBut now it's \"Fuck you, pay me\" (Yeah)\nCan't let these motherfuckers phase me (Whoa)\nNever let that money change me\nAin't the way my mama raised me (Whoa)\nDon't mean to brag, but can you blame me? (Yeah)\n\nTwo hundred, swerving, dippin', dodge on the highway (Skrrt)\nYou may contain me but you won't never stop me (No)\nOn her way to my residence (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nTry message your boo again\nShe pullin' up prolly (Pullin' up prolly)\nYeah, strally inside of that Bentley (Inside that Bentley)\nYeah, come take a tat' on my belly (Bow, bow)\nYeah, people actin' too friendly, man\nThey tryna get dividends (Yeah)\nThis shit is a problem (This shit's a problem)\nYeah, you just be talkin' shit but ain't ever met me (Whoa)\nDeChino fucked your bitch and now you resent me (Whoa)\nI know them people but they don't represent me (Whoa)\nThem wastemen, we gonna make 'em all pay (Yeah, whoa)\nThey will never stop the plan\nEighty jumpin' off my hand\nRollie, Rollie, Rollie (Rollie, Rollie)\nBust it open (Bust it open), holy moly (Holy moly)\nI know my wrist be dancin' crazy (Whoa)\nBeen on some fly shit lately (Lately)\nUsed to be so damn patient (Whoa)\nBut now it's \"Fuck you, pay me\" (Whoa)\nCan't let these motherfuckers phase me (Phase me)\nNever let that money change me\nAin't the way my mama raised me (Raised me)\nDon't mean to brag, but can you blame me? (Yeah)\n\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, whoa\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nMmm, yeah\nMmm, yeah"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eNederlandsTakin\u2019 Shots Lyrics\nDrinkin' all night, but we ain't done yet (Yet)\nWaitin' on the plug, but he ain't come yet (Yet)\nStill need somethin'? Put your bank on it (Bank on it)\nGot a big bag with a Bape on it (Bape on)\nParty ain't over if they say somethin' (Say somethin')\nNo sleep 'til I've seen three suns (Three suns)\nParty gon' end with a threesome (Threesome)\nRaw dog, prolly have three sons\nChasin' the Perc' with some Buddy, that shit never lets me down (Uhm)\nThey go to work for some money, we make it from actin' out (Uhm)\nGrrrrrah, we takin' shots right now (Shots right now)\nGrrrrrah, yeah, we takin' shots right now (Shots)\n\nSee me in a 'Rari goin' vroom-vroom (Skrrt, skrrt)\nSexy motherfucker in a cartoon\nSaint Laurent, forty on a new suit\nSippin' Bud Light, that's the new Goose\nBaby, bust it open like woo-hoo\nThe diamonds got cut like a boo-boo\nPockets so fat, rock a muu-muu\nMe and Dre came for the pum pum\nDrippin', drippin', drippin', women tryna take my millions\nHelp my bro with an assist I'm Jason Williams (White Chocolate)\nHeard that there's a party, I might pay a visit (Visit)\nThat's a moment, hopped out frog like ribbit, ribbit (Skrrt)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nDrunk when I walked in the door, so fuckin' high like, \"Hello\"\nI told her pour me some more, then she went right for the blow (The blow)\nThirty more girls wanna roll, let's get this bitch on the road (On the road)\nAlready losin' control, this is the life that we chose\n\nDrinkin' all night, but we ain't done yet (Yet)\nWaitin' on the plug, but he ain't come yet (Yet)\nStill need somethin'? Put your bank on it (Bank on it)\nGot a big bag with a Bape on it (Bape on)\nParty ain't over if they say somethin' (Say somethin')\nNo sleep 'til I've seen three suns (Three suns)\nParty gon' end with a threesome (Threesome)\nRaw dog, prolly have three sons\nChasin' the Perc' with some Buddy, that shit never lets me down (Uhm)\nThey go to work for some money, we make it from actin' out (Uhm)\nGrrrrrah, we takin' shots right now (Shots right now)\nGrrrrrah, yeah, we takin' shots right now (Shots)\n\nFrontin' on me, but you love it (Love it)\nTryna act like you above it ('Bove it)\nDad bod know you wanna rub it (Rub it)\nHave you ever done it in public?\nSippin' all night, let it rotate\nBaby, just for the night, you my soulmate\nMixin' vodka with the champagne\nTell me how much liquor can a man take\nHow many records have I sold?\nI don't even know, can't keep count (Nope)\nYou know that I've been on a roll\nCelebratin' life when I come around (Come around)\nSippin' all night, sippin' all day\nBrought the beerbong out like a tailgate\nHoldin' big words that I can't say\nGot me speakin' drunkanese, can you translate?\nDrunk when I walked in the door, so fuckin' high like, \"Hello\"\nI told her pour me some more, then she went right for the blow (The blow)\nThirty more girls wanna roll, let's get this bitch on the road (On the road)\nAlready losin' control, this is the life that we chose\n\nDrinkin' all night, but we ain't done yet (Yet)\nWaitin' on the plug, but he ain't come yet (Yet)\nStill need somethin'? Put your bank on it (Bank on it)\nGot a big bag with a Bape on it (Bape on)\nParty ain't over if they say somethin' (Say somethin')\nNo sleep 'til I've seen three suns (Three suns)\nParty gon' end with a threesome (Threesome)\nRaw dog, prolly have three sons\nChasin' the Perc' with some Buddy, that shit never lets me down (Uhm)\nThey go to work for some money, we make it from actin' out (Uhm)\nGrrrrrah, we takin' shots right now (Shots right now)\nGrrrrrah, yeah, we takin' shots right now (Shots)"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisNederlandsBroken Whiskey Glass Lyrics\nI done drank codeine from a broken whiskey glass\nI done popped my pills and I smoked my share of grass\nSlaved for the man and I broke my fuckin' back\nSo you can take your nine-to-five and shove it up your ass\nAnd that 101 is like the highway in hell\nGoing too damn fast, I spilled drink on my Chanel\nAnd I woke up and my room's fuckin' trashed like a damn hotel\nAnd where I'm goin' next, man, only time will tell\n\nWoah-oh\nWoah-oh\nWoah-oh\nWoah-oh\n\nI done spent some time chasin' women that don't give a shit\nI done learned my lessons and I ain't never gon' forget\nStarted callin' this shit, started ballin' and shit, started flickin' that wrist\nThey ain't never listened, now I'm makin' them hits, so I'm fuckin' your bitch (Ooh)\nNo, it ain't that difficult for me to forget that you ever exist\nBet you remember my name when I pull up in that whip that doesn't exist (Skrrt)\nSpill lean on Supreme last Saturday\nLet that shit splash, motherfucker, talk saucy\nPass me them drugs, motherfucker, let me try 'em\nAt the White House, call my homie Joe Biden, he flyin' out weed\nSmokin' my dope, Bathing Ape, that be the clothes\nMan, don't be silly, that shit you rockin' is old\nLike it's years since you been to the store\nFeel like Meek Milly, but I ain't from Philly\nI'm poppin' a wheelie, I show off my grilly\nI do this for realy and for my family\nSame shit every night, man, it's all so famil'-y\nThe bitches, they killin' me\nLike, bitch, are you kiddin' me?\nBallin', that shit Jason Kidd to me\nYou can't get rid of me\nYeah, you want my chain and my chi\nBitch, I'm real good at chemistry\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nWoah-oh\nWoah-oh\nWoah-oh\nWoah-oh"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsStaring at the Sun Lyrics\nOh\n\nWait (Wait)\nI know you got a lotta shit you'd like to say (To say, to\u2005say)\nSlow\u2005down, think you\u2005gettin' lil' carried away\nYou're too close\u2005to the flame\nBut you don't wanna turn around\nLike you got me figured out\n\nBut, girl, what I can promise is I'll let you down\nSo don't put up a fight\nYou'll get lost in the light\n\nIf you keep staring at the sun, you won't see\nWhat you have become, this can't be\nEverything you thought it was\nBlinded by the thought of us, so\nGive me a chance, I will\nFuck up again, I warned\nYou in advance\nBut you just keep on starin' at the sun\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nWait (Yeah, yeah, wait)\nI know I got a lot of shit going on with me (Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah)\nNow we're free to loving anyone other than me\nI try to rewind, I get reminded that time don't wait for nobody\nCan't get too close and don't let it go\n\n'Cause I can count on you to let me down\nI won't put up a fight\nI got lost in the light (Oh)\n\nIf you keep staring at the sun, you won't see\nWhat you have become, this can't be\nEverything you thought it was\nBlinded by the thought of us, so\nGive me a chance, I will\nFuck up again, I warned\nYou in advance\nBut you just keep on starin' at the sun\n\nWait\nGot a couple little things I would like to say (Oh yeah)\nToday is not your day\nYou should walk away (Oh yeah)\nBut you won't listen, you just keep on (Oh yeah)\nStaring at the sun, you won't see\nWhat you have become, this can't be\nEverything you thought it was\nBlinded by the thought of us, so\nGive me a chance, I will\nFuck up again, I warned\nYou in advance\nBut you just keep on starin' at the sun"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsBig Lie Lyrics\nI know, I know\nI know, I know\nMustard on the beat, ho\n\nRun it up, run it up\nCount it up, count it up\n'95 in my cup\nNicotine in my blood\nGo on, run it, run it, count it, count it\nGo on, show me somethin', ayy, ayy\nGo on talkin' that shit, keep on barkin', lil' bitch\nBitches tryna get lit, damn\nRos\u00e9 poppin' with the Balmain on me\nAnd I keep on callin' and they know that I don't answer my cell\nNo, I don't know your mama\nI got so much commas, girl, you know I'm only into myself\n\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nWhen I pull up, get this bitch live\nAnd you know that I'ma get mine, yeah, yeah\n\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nWhen I pull up, get this bitch live\nAnd you know that I'ma get mine, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nSay you got that shit you don't got\nHeard you say that shit a hundred times, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie (Oh)\n\nValet the park on that whip\nThe Caddy, the '76\nMy woman gon' box on a bitch\nThey don't want no part in that shit\nI got my money jumpin', I'm proud for ballin' on Fade\nDidn't watch the game, you can see that shit on replay\nI just drop the top and I pull up to your party\nI just grab a Bud and I pop the top on you, pour that water\n\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nWhen I pull up, get this bitch live\nAnd you know that I'ma get mine, yeah, yeah\n\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nWhen I pull up, get this bitch live\nAnd you know that I'ma get mine, yeah, yeah\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nSay you got that shit you don't got\nHeard you say that shit a hundred times, yeah, yeah\nAnd they know who we are and\nAnd they know that we ballin'\nWhen you wanna get this one day\nI don't want your bitch, it's only\n\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nWhen I pull up, get this bitch live\nAnd you know that I'ma get mine, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nSay you flexin', that's a big lie\nSay you got that shit you don't got\nHeard you say that shit a hundred times, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\n\nAnd they know who we are and\nAnd they know that we ballin'\nWhen you wanna get this one day\nI don't want your bitch, it's only\nI know, I know\nI know, I know\nI know, I know\nI know, I know"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsTranslationsPolskiT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1ol\u0939\u093f\u0928\u094d\u0926\u0940Fran\u00e7aisI Like You (A Happier Song) Lyrics\nOoh, ooh, ooh\nOoh, ooh\n\nOoh, girl, I like you, I do\nI wanna be your friend, go shoppin' in a Benz\nI like you, I do\nI\u2019ll hit you when I land, can you fit me in your plans?\nI like you, I do\nWe went to bed in France, then we woke up in Japan\nI like you, I do (I do), mm\n\nOh, girl, I know you only like it fancy (Fancy)\nSo I pull up in that Maybach Candy\nYeah, your boyfriend'll never understand me (Understand)\n'Cause I\u2019m 'bout to pull his girl like a hammy, hammy (Wow)\nLet's take a lil' dip, lil' lady\nHit PCH, 180\nHey, I been thinkin' lately\nThat I need someone to save me\nNow that I'm famous, I got hoes all around me\nBut I need a good girl, I need someone to ground me\nSo, please be tru\u0435, don't fuck around with me\nI need someone to shar\u0435 this heart with me\nFill you up, then run it back again (Run it back again)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nOoh, girl, I like you, I do (I do)\nI wanna be your friend, go shoppin\u2019 in a Benz (Woo)\nI like you, I do (I do)\nI\u2019ll hit you when I land, can you fit me in your plans?\nI like you, I do (I do)\nWe went to bed in France, then we woke up in Japan\nI like you, I do, mm, I do\n\nLet me know when you're free\n\u2019Cause I been tryna hit it all week, babe\nWhy you actin' all sweet?\nI know that you want little ol' me\nI get a little OD, but ain't shit new to a freak\nLet me drop bands, put a jewel in ya teeth\nHe love the way I drip, turn that pool to the beach\nAnd I coulda copped a Birkin but I cop Celine\nWhy we got the same taste for the finer things?\nBrand new nigga with the same old team\nNow he got me on a leash \u2019cause he said no strings\nYou know I'm cool with that\nStole the pussy, you ain't get sued for that (Get sued, sued)\nWonder what a nigga might do for that (Do, might do)\nI could be your Chaka, where Rufus at? (Where?)\n80 in the Benz when that roof go back, ayy\nThey don't wanna see us get too attached\nI just got a feelin' that we might be friends for a long, long time\nYou don't mind and you know I like you for that\nOoh, girl, I like you, I do (I do)\nI wanna be your friend, go shoppin' in a Benz\nI like you, I do (I do)\nI'll hit you when I land, can you fit me in your plans? (Baby, yeah)\nI like you, I do (I do)\nWe went to bed in France, then we woke up in Japan\nI like you, I do (I do), mm, I do\n\nI just want you, I just want you\nYour heart's so big, but that ass is huge\nJust want you, oh, baby\nDo you like me too? (Yeah, I like you too)\n\nGirl, I like you, I do (I do)\nI wanna be your friend, go shoppin' in a Benz\nI like you, I do, mm, I do\n\nI like you\nDon't want it now, I'm with you"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1olNederlandsAllergic Lyrics\nWasted on Sunday\nErase you on Monday\nAllergic, allergic\nGave in by Friday\nWent straight back to sideways\nAllergic, allergic\n\nI\u2005took\u2005your pills and\u2005your drugs just to feel something\u2005else\n'Cause I can't feel you no more\n\nSo sad, but true\nYou're friends with all my demons\nThe only one that sees them\nToo bad for you\nSo sad, but true\nGave a hundred million reasons\nBut why can't you believe them?\nToo bad for you\n\nYeah, we fight and we fuck until we open the cuts\nAnd now we're soberin' up but never sober enough\nAllergic, allergic\nInstead of holdin' me down, you're only holding me up\nIt shouldn't be so hard, this is impossible love\nAllergic, allergic\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nI took your pills and your drugs just to feel something else\n'Cause I can't feel you no more\n\nSo sad, but true\nYou're friends with all my demons\nThe only one that sees them\nToo bad for you\nSo sad, but true\nGave a hundred million reasons\nBut why can't you believe them?\nToo bad for you\n\nSo sad, but true\nGave a hundred million reasons\nBut why can't you believe them?\nToo bad for you"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsYours Truly, Austin Post Lyrics\nI'ma take a Bud Light break, one minute\nAh, ah\n\nI just came down from the high of my life\nI just, I just came down from the high of my life\nSee us poppin' champagne, we could do it all night\nAnd if everything gone bad, we gon' make it alright (Alright)\n\nHow you expectin' them O's when you ain't put in work?\nAnd I just got off the phone, yeah, with my realtor\nAnd I've been eatin' so good that, bitch, my belly broke\nAnd I might cop that Mulsanne 'cause, bitch, that Bentley talk\nPut that sauce on that bitch real quick (Real quick)\nPut that ice on that wrist real slick (Real slick)\nGirl, I know you know my wallet's real thick (Real thick)\nAnd I'm wonderin', wonderin' what you're drinkin' (Oh-oh)\n\nI just came down from the high of my life\nI just, I just came down from the high of my life\nSee us poppin' champagne, we could do it all night\nAnd if everything gone bad, we gon' make it alright\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nWe don't fuckin' fuck with y'all, do we? (Do we?)\nWe don't gotta stunt on y'all, do we? (Do we?)\nBring that money back to yours truly (Truly)\nWhen I'm rockin' all my goddamn jewelry (Jewelry), yeah\n\nHey, I just hopped out the foreign, lookin' so pretty, yeah\nAnd yeah, that watch on my arm look like a trillion\nYou know that White Iverson, no, keep that jewelry tucked (Tucked)\nAnd I just balled out my brain, I feel like Bubba Chuck (Chuck)\nGirl, I'm zoned out, I feel my Xans\nAin't nobody understand\nIt's you and I, go and call your friends\nLet's get a light like kerosene\nYou gon' ride that bump-and-grind\nYeah, let me see that double-time\nYou ain't gotta tell them hoes because they know, yeah\n\nI just came down from the high of my life\nI just, I just came down from the high of my life\nSee us poppin' champagne, we could do it all night\nAnd if everything gone bad, we gon' make it alright\n\nWe don't fuckin' fuck with y'all, do we? (Do we?)\nWe don't gotta stunt on y'all, do we? (Do we?)\nBring that money back to yours truly (Truly)\nWhen I'm rockin' all my goddamn jewelry (Jewelry), yeah\nTell me, who do you call (Who do you call)\nWhen the night gets long (When the night gets long)\nAnd you're sittin' by the phone (Sittin' by the phone)\n'Cause all those drugs wore off, woah-woah\n\nI just came down from the high of my life\nI just, I just came down from the high of my life\nSee us poppin' champagne, we could do it all night\nAnd if everything gone bad, we gon' make it alright\n\nHigh of my life\nHigh of my life\nHigh of my life\nHigh of my life\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh\nOoh, ooh, ooh\nHigh of my life"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00easFran\u00e7aisItalianoT\u00fcrk\u00e7eDeutsch\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Chemical Lyrics\nOxytocin makin' it all okay\nWhen I come back down, it doesn't feel the same\nNow, I'm sittin' 'round waitin' for the world to end all day\n'Cause I couldn't leave you if I tried\n\nYou break me, then I break my rules\nLast time was the last time too\nIt's fucked up, I know, but I'm still\n\nOutside of the party, smokin' in the car with you\nSeven-nation army fightin' at the bar with you\nTell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do\n'Cause I can't let go, it's chemical\nNo, I can't let go, it's chemical\n\nEvery time I'm ready to make a change (Mhm)\nYou turn around and fuck out all my brains (Woo)\nI ain't tryna fight fate, it's too late to save face\nI can't get away, maybe there's no mistakes (Maybe there's no mistakes)\n\nYou break me, then I break my rules\nLast time was the last time too\nIt's fucked up, I know, but I'm still, still\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nOutside of the party, smokin' in the car with you\nSeven-nation army fightin' at the bar with you\nTell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do\n'Cause I can't let go, it's chemical (Chemical)\nNo, I can't let go, it's chemical (Chemical)\nNo, I can't let go, it's chemical\n\nI can't let go, it's chemical\nAh-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah, ah-ah-ah\n\nTell you that I'm sorry, tell me what I gotta do\nNo, I can't let go, it's chemical"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsI\u2019m Gonna Be Lyrics\nCan you feel it?\nCan you feel it?\nCan you feel it?\nCan you feel it?\n\nPop the top,\u2005fill\u2005my cup up,\u2005yeah\nKeep 'em pourin' 'til I'm fucked\u2005up, oh yeah\nDiamond Simon with my shirt tucked, yeah\nMink was 80K that's fucked up, oh yeah (Wow)\nHey, I'll rock the shit but not for long (Not for, not for long)\nThen I'll go cop another one ('Nother one)\nSome people think I'm livin' wrong (Livin' wrong, hey, hey)\nWe live this life but not for long, so\n\nI'm gonna be what I want, what I want, what I want, yeah (Yeah)\nI'm gonna do what I want, when I want, when I want, yeah (Yeah)\nI'm goin' hard 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, yeah (Gone, yeah)\nCan you feel it? Can you feel it?\nI'm gonna be what I want, what I want, what I want, yeah (I wanna be)\nI'm gonna do what I want, when I want, when I want, yeah (I wanna be)\nI'm goin' hard 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, yeah ('Til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone)\nCan you feel it? Can you feel it? (Uh-huh)\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nHey, why you so mad? (Why you so mad?)\nNever look back (Never look back)\nCan't let up the gas, we movin' so fast, yeah, let's make it last\nYeah, I'm on to you, mm-mm (Damn)\nYou're too comfortable, ayy-ayy\nWho you talkin' to, mm-mm\nAin't no time for you, ayy (Ooh)\nI do what I want, Tom Ford on the yacht, ooh (Wow)\nRichard Mille my watch, thousand dollar Crocs, ooh (Ooh)\nThey tryna tell me that it's luck\nYou probably think I made it up\nI got it all, it ain't enough\nBut I'm still gonna run it up, so (Ooh)\n\nI'm gonna be what I want, what I want, what I want, yeah (What I want)\nI'm gonna do what I want, when I want, when I want, yeah (What I want, what I want, yeah)\nI'm goin' hard 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, yeah ('Til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone)\nCan you feel it? (Ooh) Can you feel it? (Hey)\nI'm gonna be what I want, what I want, what I want, yeah (What I want, what I want)\nI'm gonna do what I want, when I want, when I want, yeah (What I want, what I want)\nI'm goin' hard 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, yeah\n('Til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone)\nCan you feel it? (Ooh) Can you feel it?\nEver since I got a taste, I've been goin' (Goin')\nEvery chip out on the table, bitch, I'm all in (Ayy)\nI'm gonna be (Ayy)\nI'm gonna be (Bitch, I'm gonna be)\n\nI'm gonna be what I want, what I want, what I want, yeah (God damn, God damn)\nI'm gonna do what I want, when I want, when I want, yeah (What I want, what I want)\nI'm goin' hard 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, yeah ('Til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone, 'til I'm gone)\nCan you feel it? Can you feel it? Can you feel it?\n\nCan you feel it?\nCan you feel it?\nI'm gonna be\nCan you feel it?"}
{"text":"50 ContributorsTranslationsNederlandsCold Lyrics\n(Good job, First)\n\nYeah, my wrist so cold and my ice on froze\nAnd it's all for you\nYeah, my ice so cold and my wrist on froze\nYeah, it's all for you\nYeah, my wrist so cold and my ice on froze\nYeah, I'd die for you\nYeah, my ice so cold and my wrist on froze\nYeah, I'd die for you, oh-oh\n\nOh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh\nOh, yeah, yeah\nRunnin', runnin', runnin'\n\nYeah, stuntin', it's satisfyin', but it don't bring you closure\nDiamonds my state of mind, I'm drownin' in the ocean\nJust stay right where you are and don't come any closer\nI'm just gon' handle mine and just maintain composure\nPeople, they say learn from mistakes, yeah\nYou keep your space, yeah, but all this pain, yeah\nYou say you go away, yeah, stay in my lane, oh\nIt hurt so bad when you went away, yeah\nI needed you, needed you\nSo what the fuck do I do?\nI needed you, needed you\nSo what the fuck do I do? Yeah\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nOh my god, oh my god\nA lot of bullshit on my mind\nOh my god, oh my god\nThink about you all the time\nOh my god, oh my god\nAnd I don't care 'bout no money\nThere's a knot up in my throat\nAnd I didn't come here on my own\n\nYeah, my wrist so cold and my ice on froze\nAnd it's all for you\nYeah, my ice so cold and my wrist so froze\nYeah, it's all for you\nYeah, my wrist so cold and my ice on froze\nYeah, I'd die for you\nYeah, my ice so cold and my wrist on froze\nYeah, I'd die for you, oh-oh\n\nMy jewelry on like an ice cube\nAnd all I wanna do is just ignite you\nThis Saint Laurent, mama, you look nice too\nCan't hold my tongue, don't got the heart to\nRemember when I fell in love?\nI just came up, oh lord\nRemember aim three? My fault\nTold that bad bitch get on my VLONE\nHey, don't have much to do and\nEverything is ruined\nAyy, ain't no secret to it\nThrown a check like a Nike, I just do it\nOh my god, oh my god\nA lot of bullshit on my mind\nOh my god, oh my god\nThink about you all the time\nOh my god, oh my god\nAnd I don't care 'bout no money\nThere's a knot up in my throat\nAnd I didn't come here on my own\n\nYeah, my wrist so cold and my ice on froze\nAnd it's all for you\nYeah, my ice so cold and my wrist so froze\nYeah, it's all for you\n\nRunnin', runnin', runnin'\nRunnin', runnin', runnin'\n(Oh yeah)"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easT\u00fcrk\u00e7ePost Malone - Internet (Traducci\u00f3n al Espa\u00f1ol)Post Malone - Internet (Nederlandse Vertaling)Internet Lyrics\nE-yeah-yeah-yeah (Oh)\nWhoa\nE-yeah-yeah-yeah\n\nI just seen lil' mama Instagram and she flexin'\nDon't care about your puppy, just that ass and them breastses\nOh, girl, you a model? Damn, I never woulda guessed it\nAnd if you tryna throw out all them vibes, I'ma catch 'em\nThe lifestyle we live is just too dangerous\nParanoid since they've been leakin' my shit\nWonder if it'll come out on the web\nAnd I can't help all these bitches on my dick\nTakin' a photo and postin' that shit\nComin' home late and I crawl into bed\nShe always be askin' me, \"Where have you been?\"\nWhoa\n\nThe world has gone to shit and we all know that\nPeople freakin' out, like, hit the Prozac\nLeon DeChino shorts got all the blogs mad\nWell, fuck the internet, and you can quote that, whoa\n\nInstalove\nWell, if ignorance is bliss, then don't wake me up\nAnd I'll prolly be the last to know (Whoa)\n'Cause I don't get on the internet no more\nInstalove\nWell, if ignorance is bliss, then don't wake me up\nAnd I'll prolly be the last to know (Whoa)\n'Cause I don't get on the internet no more\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nOoh, ooh\nOoh, ooh\nOoh, ooh"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easNederlandsMoney Made Me Do It Lyrics\nGood job, First\nWoah, skrrt, skrrt\n\nDiamonds in my chain gold (Okay)\nEvery twenty minutes, change clothes (Change up)\nI had a mil' before the label (That money)\nJust as long as they know, money made me do it (They know)\nI said rest in peace to Bankroll (Free, God bless you)\nYou in a better place, dawg (God bless you)\nYou won't ever see me lay low (They know it)\nStart the engine, watch me take off, money made me do it (Skrrt, skrrt)\n\nI said, yeah, I said money made me do it (Money, money, money, money, money)\nI said, yeah, I said money made me do it (Money, money, money, money, money)\nWatch me, yeah, I said money made me do it (Money, money)\nI said, yeah, I said money made me do it\n\nTake a ride when we wake up\nHit the gas, melt your face off (Your face)\nSpend the day countin' cake up\nWith a dime, who think I changed up? (I changed up)\nI took the Lincoln down Rodeo (Skrrt, skrrt)\nRan through it like some Drano (Ooh, ooh)\nLot of bags, can't complain, though (No, no)\nWe was shoppin' in 'til they closed\nWhy did I do that? Did I do that? Ooh, yeah (Uh)\nNew whip, now, I can't pay my rent, ooh, no, oh, ooh, yeah\nSee Post Malone LiveGet tickets as low as $121You might also like\nDiamonds in my chain gold (Okay)\nEvery twenty minutes, change clothes (Change up)\nI had a mil' before the label (That money)\nJust as long as they know, money made me do it (They know)\nI said rest in peace to Bankroll (Free, God bless you)\nYou in a better place, dawg (God bless you)\nYou won't ever see me lay low (They know it)\nStart the engine, watch me take off, money made me do it (Skrrt, skrrt)\n\nI said, yeah, I said money made me do it (Money, money, money, money, money)\nI said, yeah, I said money made me do it (Money, money, money, money, money)\nWatch me, yeah, I said money made me do it (Money, money)\nI said, yeah, I said money made me do it (Yeah, 2 Chainz)\n\nGot a bandana 'round my neck, like Bankroll Fresh (Free)\nPocket full of street money (Street), 'bout to count my blessin' (Street)\nOne hundred, one thousand, one hundred K, one million (Uh)\nWe smoke, we laugh, we rap, we talked about a vision (Switch it up, haha)\nI got diamonds like a rainbow every time I change clothes\nShawty fucked my friend, but I act like I ain't know\nI'ma buy a raincoat, the storm might approach you\nClown like your daddy met your mom at a circus\nI do it on purpose, do it for the neighborhood\nSmokin' on that Meagan Good, with my niggas when I do it\nGot that leather and that wood, I got the marble on the floor\nGot the burglar bars on the door at the bando\nDiamonds in my chain gold (Okay)\nEvery twenty minutes, change clothes (Change up)\nI had a mil' before the label (That money)\nJust as long as they know, money made me do it (They know)\nI said rest in peace to Bankroll (Free, God bless you)\nYou in a better place, dawg (God bless you)\nYou won't ever see me lay low (They know it)\nStart the engine, watch me take off, money made me do it (Skrrt, skrrt)\n\nI said, yeah, I said money made me do it (Money, money, money, money, money)\nI said, yeah, I said money made me do it (Money, money, money, money, money)\nWatch me, yeah, I said money made me do it (Money, money)\nI said, yeah, I said money made me do it"}
{"text":"\nYeah, yeah\nAyo, Black\u2014it's time, word (Word, it's time, man)\nIt's time, man (Aight, man, begin)\nYeah\u2014straight out the fuckin' dungeons of rap\nWhere fake niggas don't make it back\nI don't know how to start this shit, yo\u2014now;\nRappers; I monkey flip 'em with the funky rhythm, I be kickin'\nMusician, inflictin' composition of pain\nI'm like Scarface sniffin' cocaine\nHoldin' an M16, see, with the pen I'm extreme\nNow, bullet holes left in my peepholes\nI'm suited up with street clothes, hand me a 9 and I'll defeat foes\nY'all know my steelo, with or without the airplay\nI keep some E&J, sittin' bent up in the stairway\nOr either on the corner bettin' Grants with the cee-lo champs\nLaughin' at base-heads, tryna sell some broken amps\nG-packs get off quick, forever niggas talk shit\nReminiscin' about the last time the task force flipped\nNiggas be runnin' through the block shootin'\nTime to start the revolution, catch a body, head for Houston\nOnce they caught us off-guard, the MAC-10 was in the grass, and\nI ran like a cheetah, with thoughts of an assassin\nPicked the MAC up, told brothers \"Back up!\" \u2014 the MAC spit\nLead was hittin' niggas, one ran, I made him back-flip\nHeard a few chicks scream, my arm shook, couldn't look\nGave another squeeze, heard it click, \"Yo, my shit is stuck!\"\nTried to cock it, it wouldn't shoot, now I'm in danger\nFinally pulled it back and saw three bullets caught up in the chamber\nSo, now I'm jettin' to the buildin' lobby\nAnd it was full of children, prob'ly couldn't see as high as I be\n(So, what you sayin'?) It's like the game ain't the same\nGot younger niggas pullin' the triggers, bringin' fame to their name\nAnd claim some corners, crews without guns are goners\nIn broad daylight, stick-up kids, they run up on us\n.45\u2019s and gauges, MAC's in fact\nSame niggas will catch you back-to-back, snatchin' your cracks\nIn black, there was a snitch on the block gettin' niggas knocked\nSo hold your stash 'til the coke price drop\nI know this crackhead who said she gotta smoke nice rock\nAnd if it's good, she'll bring you customers and measuring pots\nBut yo, you gotta slide on a vacation\nInside information keeps large niggas erasin' and their wives basin'\nIt drops deep as it does in my breath\nI never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death\nBeyond the walls of intelligence, life is defined\nI think of crime when I'm in a New York State of Mind\nYou might also like\nNew York state of mind\nNew York state of mind\nNew York state of mind\nNew York state of mind\n\nBe havin' dreams that I'm a gangsta, drinkin' Mo\u00ebts, holdin' TEC's\nMakin' sure the cash came correct, then I stepped\nInvestments in stocks, sewin' up the blocks to sell rocks\nWinnin' gunfights with mega-cops\nBut just a nigga walkin' with his finger on the trigger\nMake enough figures until my pockets get bigger\nI ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'\nGive me a Smith & Wesson, I'll have niggas undressin'\nThinkin' of cash flow, Buddha and shelter\nWhenever frustrated, I'ma hijack Delta\nIn the PJ's, my blend tape plays, bullets are strays\nYoung bitches is grazed, each block is like a maze\nFull of black rats trapped, plus the Island is packed\nFrom what I hear in all the stories when my peoples come back\nBlack, I'm livin' where the nights is jet-black\nThe fiends fight to get crack, I just max, I dream I can sit back\nAnd lamp like Capone, with drug scripts sewn\nOr the legal luxury life, rings flooded with stones, homes\nI got so many rhymes, I don't think I'm too sane\nLife is parallel to Hell, but I must maintain\nAnd be prosperous, though we live dangerous\nCops could just arrest me, blamin' us; we're held like hostages\nIt's only right that I was born to use mics\nAnd the stuff that I write is even tougher than dykes\nI'm takin' rappers to a new plateau, through rap slow\nMy rhymin' is a vitamin held without a capsule\nThe smooth criminal on beat breaks\nNever put me in your box if your shit eats tapes\nThe city never sleeps, full of villains and creeps\nThat's where I learned to do my hustle, had to scuffle with freaks\nI'm a addict for sneakers, 20's of Buddha and bitches with beepers\nIn the streets I can greet ya, about blunts I teach ya\nInhale deep like the words of my breath\nI never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death\nI lay puzzled as I backtrack to earlier times\nNothing's equivalent to the New York state of mind\nNew York state of mind\nNew York state of mind\nNew York state of mind\nNew York state of mind\n\n\"Nasty Nas\u2014\""}
{"text":"Fuck Jay-Z\nWhat's up, niggas?\nAyo, I know you ain't talkin' about me, dawg (You? What?)\nFuck Jay-Z\nYou been on my dick, nigga\nYou love my style, nigga (Uh, uh, uh, uh)\nFuck Jay-Z\n(I) Fuck with your soul like ether\n(Will) Teach you, the king, you know you\n(Not) God's Son across the belly\n(Lose) I'll prove you lost already (Uh)\n\nBrace yourself for the main event, y'all impatiently waitin'\nIt's like a AIDS test, what's the results?\nNot positive, who's the best, Pac, Nas and B.I.G.?\nAin't no best, east, west, north, south, flossed out\nGreetings, I embrace y'all with napalm\nBlows up, no guts left, chest, face gone\nHow could Nas be garbage? Semi-autos at your cartilage (Uh)\nBurner at the side of your dome, come out of my throne\nI got this locked since '91 (Uh), I am the truest\nName a rapper that I ain't influenced\nGave y'all chapters, but now I keep my eyes on the Judas\nWith Hawaiian Sophie fame, kept my name in his music, check it\nYou might also like\n(I) Fuck with your soul like ether\n(Will) Teach you, the king, you know you\n(Not) God's Son across the belly (Haha)\n(Lose) I'll prove you lost already (Uh)\n\nAyo, pass me the weed (Tsk, there you go)\nPut my ashes out on these niggas, man (Ain't no doubt)\nAyo, you faggots, y'all kneel and kiss the motherfuckin' ring\n(I) Fuck with your soul like ether\n(Will) Teach you, the king, you know you\n(Not) God's Son across the belly\n(Lose) I'll prove you lost already\nI've been fucked over, left for dead, dissed and forgotten\nLuck ran out, they hoped that I'd be gone, stiff and rotten\nY'all just piss on me, shit on me, spit on my grave (Uh)\nTalk about me, laugh behind my back, but in my face\nY'all some well-wishin' (Bitch niggas), friendly-actin', envy-hidin' snakes\nWith your hands out for my money, man, how much can I take?\nWhen these streets keep callin', heard it when I was sleep\nThat this Gay-Z and Cock-a-Fella Records wanted beef (What?)\nStarted cockin' up my weapon, slowly loadin' up this ammo\nTo explode it on a camel (Haha) and his soldiers I can handle\nThis for dolo and his manuscript just sound stupid\nWhen KRS already made a album called Blueprint (Dick)\nFirst Biggie's your man, then you got the nerve to say\nThat you better than B.I.G., dick-suckin' lips (Ha)\nWhy don't you let the late, great veteran live?\nI will\nNot lose (God's son across the belly, I'll prove you lost already), uh\nThe king is back\nWhere my crown at? (Ill Will)\nIll Will, rest in peace, let's do it, niggas\n\n(I) Fuck with your soul like ether\n(Will) Teach you, the king, you know you\n(Not) God's Son across the belly\n(Lose) I'll prove you lost already\nY'all niggas deal with emotions like bitches\nWhat's sad is I love you 'cause you're my brother, you traded your soul for riches\nMy child, I've watched you grow up to be famous\nAnd now I smile like a proud dad watchin' his only son that made it\nYou seem to be only concerned with dissin' women\nWere you abused as a child? Scared to smile, they called you ugly?\nWell, life is harsh, hug me, don't reject me\nOr make records to disrespect me, blatant or indirectly\nIn '88 you was gettin' chased through your building\nCallin' my crib and I ain't even give you my numbers\nAll I did was give you a style for you to run with\nSmilin' in my face, glad to break bread with the God\nWearin' Jaz' chains, no TECs, no cash, no cars\nNo jail bars, Jigga, no pies, no case\nJust Hawaiian shirts, hangin' with little Chase\nYou a fan, a phony, a fake, a pussy, a Stan\nI'll still whip your ass, you thirty-six in a karate class?\nYou Tae-Bo ho, tryna work it out, you tryna get brolic?\nAsk me if I'm tryna kick knowledge?\nNah, I'm tryna kick the shit you need to learn, though\nThat ether, that shit that make your soul burn slow (Burn slow)\nIs he Dame Diddy, Dame Daddy or Dame Dummy?\nOh, I get it, you Biggie and he's Puffy (Ill)\nRocafella died of AIDS, that was the end of his chapter\nAnd that's the guy y'all chose to name your company after?\nPut it together, I rock hoes, y'all rock fellas\nAnd now y'all tryna take my spot, fellas?\nFeel these hot rocks, fellas, put you in a dry spot, fellas\nIn a pine box with nine shots from my Glock, fellas\nFoxy got you hot 'cause you kept your face in her puss\nWhat you think, you gettin' girls now 'cause of your looks? (Girls, girls, girls, haha)\nNegro, please, ha, you no-mustache-havin'\nWith whiskers like a rat, compared to Beans, you wack\nAnd your man stabbed Un and made you take the blame\nYou ass, went from Jaz to hangin' with Kane, to Irv, to B.I.G\nAnd Eminem murdered you on your own shit\nYou a dick-ridin' faggot, you love the attention\nQueens niggas run you niggas, ask Russell Simmons, ha\nR-O-C get gunned up and clapped quick\nJ.J. Evans get gunned up and clapped quick\nYour whole damn record label, gunned up and clapped quick\nShawn Carter to Jay-Z, damn, you on Jaz dick\nSo little Shawny's gettin' gunned up and clapped quick\nHow much of Biggie's rhymes is gon' come out your fat lips? (Nigga)\nWanted to be on every last one of my classics\nYou pop shit, apologize, nigga, just ask Kiss"}
{"text":"\nAyo, what's up, what's up?\nLet's keep it real, son, count this money\nYou know what I'm sayin'? Yeah, yeah\nAyo, put the Grants over there in the safe\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\n'Cause we spendin' these Jacksons\nThe Washingtons go to wifey, you know how that go\nI'm sayin' that's what this is all about, right?\nClothes, bankrolls, and hoes\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\nYo, then what, man, what?!\nVisualizin' the realism of life in actuality\nFuck who's the baddest, a person's status depends on salary\nAnd my mentality is money-orientated\nI'm destined to live the dream for all my peeps who never made it\n'Cause yeah, we were beginners in the hood as Five Percenters\nBut somethin' must've got in us, 'cause all of us turned to sinners\nNow some restin' in peace and some are sittin' in San Quentin\nOthers, such as myself, are tryin' to carry on tradition\nKeepin' this Schweppervescent street ghetto essence inside us\n'Cause it provides us with the proper insight to guide us\nEven though we know, somehow we all gotta go\nBut as long as we leavin' thievin'\nWe'll be leavin' with some kind of dough\nSo, until that day we expire and turn to vapors\nMe and my capers will be somewhere stackin' plenty papers\nKeepin' it real, packin' steel, gettin' high\n'Cause life's a bitch and then you die\nYou might also like\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we puff lye\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we puff lye\nI woke up early on my born day; I'm 20, it's a blessin'\nThe essence of adolescence leaves my body, now I'm fresh and\nMy physical frame is celebrated 'cause I made it\nOne quarter through life, some godly-like thing created\nGot rhymes 365 days annual, plus some\nLoad up the mic and bust one, cuss while I pus from\nMy skull, 'cause it's pain in my brain vein, money maintain\nDon't go against the grain, simple and plain\nWhen I was young at this I used to do my thing hard\nRobbin' foreigners, take they wallets, they jewels and rip they green cards\nDipped to the projects, flashin' my quick cash\nAnd got my first piece of ass, smokin' blunts with hash\nNow it's all about cash in abundance\nNiggas I used to run with is rich or doin' years in the hundreds\nI switched my motto; instead of sayin', \"Fuck tomorrow!\"\nThat buck that bought a bottle could've struck the lotto\nOnce I stood on the block, loose cracks produce stacks\nI cooked up and cut small pieces to get my loot back\nTime is illmatic, keep static like wool fabric\nPack a 4-matic to crack your whole cabbage\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we puff lye\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we puff lye\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die"}
{"text":"(It's yours)\nWhose world is this?\nThe world is yours, the world is yours\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\n(It's yours)\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\nThe world is yours, the world is yours\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\n\nI sip the Dom P, watchin' Gandhi 'til I'm charged, then\nWritin' in my book of rhymes, all the words past the margin\nTo hold the mic I\u2019m throbbin', mechanical movement\nUnderstandable smooth shit that murderers move with\nThe thief's theme, play me at night, they won't act right\nThe fiend of hip-hop has got me stuck like a crack pipe\nThe mind activation, react like I'm facin'\nTime like Pappy Mason, with pens I'm embracin'\nWipe the sweat off my dome, spit the phlegm on the streets\nSuede Timbs on my feets makes my cipher complete\nWhether cruisin' in a Sikh's cab or Montero Jeep\nI can't call it, the beats make me fallin' asleep\nI keep fallin', but never fallin' six feet deep\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)\nI'm out for presidents to represent me (Say what?)\nI'm out for dead presidents to represent me\nYou might also like\nWhose world is this?\nThe world is yours, the world is yours\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\nThe world is yours, the world is yours\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\n(It's yours)\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\nThe world is yours, the world is yours\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\n\nTo my man Ill Will, God bless your life (It's yours)\nTo my peoples throughout Queens, God bless your life\nI trip, we box up crazy bitches, aimin' guns in all my baby pictures\nBeef with housing police, release scriptures that's maybe Hitler's\nYet I'm the mild, money-gettin' style, rollin' foul\nThe versatile, honey-stickin', wild, golden child\nDwellin' in the Rotten Apple, you get tackled\nOr caught by the devil's lasso, shit is a hassle\nThere's no days for broke days when sellin' smoke pays\nWhile all the old folks pray to Jes\u00fas, soakin' they sins in trays\nOf holy water, odds against Nas is slaughter\nThinkin' a word best describin' my life to name my daughter\nMy strength, my son, the star will be my resurrection\nBorn in correction, all the wrong shit I did, he'll lead in right direction\nHow you livin'? Large or broke on charge cards and mediocre?\nYou flippin' coke or playin' spit, spades, and strip poker?\n(It's yours)\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\nThe world is yours, the world is yours\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\n(It's yours)\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\nYo, the world is yours, the world is yours\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\n(It's yours)\n\nBreak it down\nIt's yours, it's yours\nIt's yours, it's yours\n\nI'm the young city bandit, hold myself down single-handed\nFor murder raps, I kick my thoughts alone, get remanded\nBorn alone, die alone, no crew to keep my crown or throne\nI'm deep by sound alone, caved inside, 1,000 miles from home\nI need a new nigga for this black cloud to follow\n\u2018Cause while it's over me it's too dark to see tomorrow\nTryin' to maintain, I flip, fill the clip to the tip\nPicturin' my peeps not eatin' can make my heartbeat skip\nAnd I'm amped up, they locked the champ up, even my brain's in handcuffs\nHeaded for Indiana, stabbin' women like the Phantom\nThe crew is lampin' Big Willie style\nCheck the chip-toothed smile, plus I profile wild\nStash loot in fly clothes, burnin' dollars to light my stoge\nWalk the blocks with a bop, checkin' dames, plus the games people play\nBust the problems of the world today\n(It's yours)\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\nThe world is yours, the world is yours\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\n(It's yours)\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this? (Yeah)\nThe world is yours, the world is yours\nIt's mine, it's mine, it's mine\u2014whose world is this?\n(It's yours)\n\n(Break it down) Yeah, aight\nTo everybody in Queens, the foundation (It's yours)\nThe world is yours\nTo everybody uptown, yo, the world is yours (It's yours)\nThe world is yours\nTo everybody in Brooklyn\nY'all know the world is yours (It's yours)\nThe world is yours\nEverybody in Mount Vernon, the world is yours (It's yours)\nLong Island, yo, the world is yours (It's yours)\nStaten Island, yeah, the world is yours (It's yours)\nSouth Bronx, the world is yours (It's yours)\nAight"}
{"text":"\nFake thug, no love, you get the slug, CB4 Gusto\nYour luck low, I didn't know 'til I was drunk though\nYou freak niggas played out, get fucked and ate out\nProstitute turned bitch, I got the gauge out\n96 ways I made out, Montana way\nThe Good F-E-L-L-A, verbal AK spray\nDipped attache, jump out the Range, empty out the ashtray\nA glass of 'Z\u00e9 make a man Cassius Clay\nRed dot plots, murder schemes\n32 shotguns, regulate with my dunns\n17 rocks gleam from one ring\nThey let me let y'all niggas know one thing\nThere's one life, one love, so there can only be one King\nThe highlights of livin', Vegas-style, roll dice in linen\nAntera spinnin' on millenniums\n20 G bets I'm winnin' 'em, threats I'm sendin' 'em\nLex with TV sets the minimum, ill sex adrenaline\nParty with villains, a case of Demi-Sec\nTo chase the Henny, wet any clique with the semi TEC\nWho want it? Diamonds I flaunt it\nChickenheads flock I lace 'em, fried broiled with basil taste 'em\nCrack the legs way out of formation\nIt's horizontal how I have 'em fuckin' me in the Benz wagon\nCan it be Vanity from Last Dragon?\nGrab your gun, it's on though\nShit is grimy, real niggas buck in broad daylight\nWith the broke MAC that won't spray right\nDon't give a fuck who they hit as long as the drama's lit\nYo, overnight thugs bug \u2018cause they ain't promised shit\nHungry-ass hooligans stay on that piranha shit\nYou might also like\nI never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death\nI ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'\nI never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death\nI ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'\nI never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death\nI ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'\nI never sleep, 'cause sleep is the cousin of death\nI ain't the type of brother made for you to start testin'\n\nI peeped you frontin'\nI was in the Jeep sunk in the seat, tinted with heat, beats bumpin'\nAcross the street you was wildin'\nTalkin' about how you ran the Island in '89\nLayin' up, playin' the yard with crazy shine\nI cocked the baby 9, that nigga grave be mine\nClanked him\u2014what was he thinkin'?\nOn my corner when it's pay-me time\nDug 'em, you owe me, cousin\nSomethin' told me \"Plug him!\"\nSo dumb, felt my leg burn, then it got numb\nSpun around and shot one\nHeard shots and dropped, son, caught a hot one\nSomebody take this biscuit 'fore the cops come\nThen they came askin' me my name\nWhat the fuck? I got stitched up, it went through\nLeft the hospital that same night, what\nGot my gat back, time to backtrack\nI had the drop so how the fuck I get clapped?\nBlack was in the Jeep watchin'\nAll he seen speed by was a brown Datsun\nAnd yo, nobody in my hood got one\nThat clown nigga's through, blazin' at his crew daily\nThe Bridge touched me up severely, hear me?\nSo when I rhyme it's sincerely yours\nBe lightin' Ls, sippin' Coors on all floors in project halls\nContemplatin' war niggas I was cool with before\nWe used to score together uptown coppin' the raw\nBut, uh\u2014a thug changes and love changes\nAnd best friends become strangers (Word up)\nY'a\u2013Y'all know my steelo\nTher\u2013Ther\u2013Ther\u2013Ther\u2013Ther\u2013There ain't an army that could strike back\nY'a\u2013Y'all know my steelo\nTher\u2013Ther\u2013Ther\u2013Ther\u2013There ain't an army that could strike back\nY'a\u2013Y'all know my steelo\nTher\u2013Ther\u2013Ther\u2013There ain't an army that could strike back\nY'a\u2013Y'all know my steelo\nThere ain't an army that could strike back\n\nThug niggas, yo, to them thug niggas\nGettin' it on in the world, you know?\nTo them niggas that's locked down\nDoin' they thing, survivin', ya know'm sayin'?\nTo my thorough niggas, New York and worldwide\nYo, to the Queensbridge Militia\n9-6 shit, The Firm clique\nIllmatic, nigga, It Was Written though\nIt's been a long time comin'\nY'all fake niggas, tryin' to copy\nBetter come with the real though, fake-ass niggas, yo\n(They throw us slugs, we throwin' them back, what)\nBring the shit, man! Live, man!\n(Fuck that son, word up) 9-6 shit"}
{"text":"\nIt ain't hard to tell, I excel, then prevail\nThe mic is contacted, I attract clientele\nMy mic check is life or death, breathin' a sniper's breath\nI exhale the yellow smoke of buddha through righteous steps\nDeep like The Shining, sparkle like a diamond\nSneak a Uzi on the island in my army jacket linin'\nHit the Earth like a comet\u2014invasion!\nNas is like the Afrocentric Asian: half-man, half-amazin'\n\u2018Cause in my physical I can express through song\nDelete stress like Motrin, then extend strong\nI drink Mo\u00ebt with Medusa, give her shotguns in Hell\nFrom the spliff that I lift and inhale; it ain't hard to tell\n\nThe buddha monk's in your trunk, turn the bass up\nNot stories by Aesop\nPlace your loot up, parties I shoot up\nNas, I analyze, drop a jew-el, inhale from the L\nSchool a fool well, you feel it like Braille\nIt ain't hard to tell, I kick a skill, like Shaquille holds a pill\nVocabulary spills, I'm Ill plus Matic\nI freak beats, slam it, like Iron Sheik\nJam like a TEC with correct techniques\nSo analyze me, surprise me, but can't magmatize me\nScannin' while you're plannin' ways to sabotage me\nI leave 'em froze, like heroin in your nose\nNas will rock well; it ain't hard to tell\nYou might also like\nThis rhythmatic explosion\nIs what your frame of mind has chosen\nI'll leave your brain stimulated, niggas is frozen\nSpeak with criminal slang, begin like a violin\nEnd like Leviathan, it's deep? Well, let me try again\nWisdom be leakin' out my grapefruit, troop\nI dominate break loops, givin' mics men-e-strual cycles\nStreet's disciple, I rock beats that's mega trifle\nAnd groove even smoother than moves by Villanova\nYou're still a soldier, I'm like Sly Stone in Cobra\nPackin' like a Rasta in the weed spot\nVocals will squeeze Glocks\nMCs eavesdrop, though they need not to sneak\nMy poetry's deep, I never fell\nNas' raps should be locked in a cell; it ain't hard to tell"}
{"text":"\nWhat up, kid? I know shit is rough doin' your bid\nWhen the cops came you shoulda slid to my crib\nFuck it, black, no time for lookin' back, it's done\nPlus, congratulations, you know you got a son\nI heard he looks like ya, why don't your lady write ya?\nTold her she should visit, that's when she got hyper\nFlippin', talkin' about he acts too rough\nHe didn't listen, he be riffin' while I'm tellin' him stuff\nI was like, \"Yeah,\" shorty don't care, she a snake too\nFuckin' with them niggas from that fake crew that hate you\nBut yo, guess who got shot in the dome-piece?\nJerome's niece, on her way home from Jones Beach\nIt's bugged\u2014plus little Rob is sellin' drugs on the dime\nHangin' out with young thugs that all carry 9's\nAnd night time is more trife than ever\nWhat up with Cormega? Did you see him? Are y'all together?\nIf so, then hold the fort down, represent to the fullest\nSay what's up to Herb, Ice and Bullet\nI left a half a hundred in your commissary\nYou was my nigga when push came to shove\n(One what?) One love!\n\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nYou might also like\nDear Born, you'll be out soon, stay strong\nOut in New York the same shit is goin' on\nThe crackheads stalkin', loudmouths is talkin'\nHold, check out the story yesterday when I was walkin'\nThat nigga you shot last year tried to appear\nLike he hurtin' somethin'\nWord to mother, I heard him frontin'\nAnd he be pumpin' on your block\nYour man gave him your Glock\nAnd now they run together \u2014 what up, son? Whatever\nSince I'm on the streets I'ma put it to a cease\nBut I heard you blew a nigga with a ox for the phone piece\nWildin' on the Island, but now in Elmira\nBetter chill, \u2018cause them niggas will put that ass on fire\nLast time you wrote you said they tried you in the showers\nBut maintain, when you come home the corner's ours\nOn the reals, all these crab niggas know the deal\nWhen we start the revolution all they probably do is squeal\nBut chill, see you on the next V-I\nI gave your mom dukes loot for kicks, plus sent you flicks\nYour brother's buckwildin' in 4-Main, he wrote me\nHe might beat his case, 'til he come home I'll play it lowkey\nSo stay civilized, time flies\nThough incarcerated your mind dies\nI hate it when your moms cries\nIt kinda makes me want to murder, for reala\nI even got a mask and gloves to bust slugs, but one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\n\nSometimes I sit back with a Buddha sack\nMind's in another world, thinkin'\n\"How can we exist through the facts?\"\nWritten in school text books, bibles, et cetera\nFuck a school lecture, the lies get me vexed-er\nSo I be ghost from my projects\nI take my pen and pad for the weekend\nHittin' L's while I'm sleepin'\nA two-day stay, you may say I need the time alone\nTo relax my dome, no phone, left the 9 at home\nYou see the streets had me stressed somethin' terrible\nFuckin' with the corners have a nigga up in Bellevue\nOr HDM, hit with numbers from eight to 10\nA future in a maximum state pen is grim\nSo I comes back home, nobody's out but Shorty Doo-Wop\nRollin' two phillies together, in the Bridge we call 'em \"oo-wops\"\nHe said: \"Nas, niggas caught me bustin' off the roof\nSo I wear a bulletproof and pack a black tre-deuce.\"\nHe inhaled so deep, shut his eyes like he was sleep\nStarted coughin', one eye peeked to watch me speak\nI sat back like The Mack, my army suit was black\nWe was chillin' on these benches\nWhere he pumped his loose cracks\nI took the L when he passed it, this little bastard\nKeeps me blasted and starts talkin' mad shit\nI had to school him, told him don't let niggas fool him\n\u2018Cause when the pistol blows\nThe one that's murdered be the cool one\nTough luck when niggas are struck, families fucked up\nCoulda caught your man, but didn't look when you bucked up\nMistakes happen, so take heed, never bust up\nAt the crowd, catch him solo, make the right man bleed\nShorty's laugh was cold-blooded as he spoke so foul\nOnly 12, tryin' to tell me that he liked my style\nThen I rose, wipin' the blunt's ash from my clothes\nThen froze, only to blow the herb smoke through my nose\nAnd told my little man I'ma ghost, I broze\nLeft some jewels in his skull that he can sell if he chose\nWords of wisdom from Nas: try to rise up above\nKeep an eye out for Jake, Shorty Wop, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\nOne love, one love, one love, one love\n\nTo all my niggas locked up\nFrom Queensbridge and all over\nTo my man , one love\nTo my man Herb, one love\nTo my man , one love\nCan't forget my motherfuckin' heart, Big , one love\nTo , yeah, one love"}
{"text":"\nLife\nI wonder.. will it take me under?\nI don't know\nImagine smoking weed in the street without cops harassing\nImagine going to court with no trial\nLifestyle, cruising blue Bahama waters\nNo welfare supporters, more conscious of the way we raise our daughters\nDays are shorter, nights are colder\nFeeling like life is over, these snakes strike like a cobra\nThe world's hot, my son got knocked\nEvidently, it's elementary, they want us all gone eventually\nTrooping outta state for a plate of knowledge\nIf coke was cooked without the garbage, we'd all have the top dollars\nImagine everybody flashing fashion, designer clothes\nLacing ya clique up with diamond Roles\nYour people holding dough, no parole, no rubbers\nGo in raw, imagine law with no undercovers\nJust some thoughts for the mind\nI take a glimpse into time\nWatch the blimp read \"The World Is Mine\"\nYou might also like\nIf I ruled the world (Imagine that)\nI'd free all my sons \u2014 I love 'em, love 'em, baby!\nBlack diamonds and pearls\n(Could it be, if you could be mine, we'd both shine?)\nIf I ruled the world\n(Still living for today, in these last days and times)\n\nThe way to be: Paradise life, relaxing\nBlack, Latino and Anglo-Saxon\nArmani Exchange, the Range\nCash, Lost Tribe of Shabazz free at last\nBrand new whips to crash, then we laugh in a iller path\nThe Villa house is for the crew \u2014 how we do\nTrees for breakfast, dime sexes and Benz stretches\nSo many years of depression make me vision\nThe better living, type of place to raise kids in\nOpen they eyes to the lies, history's told foul\nBut I'm as wise as the old owl, plus the Gold Child\nSeeing things like I was controlling, clique rolling\nTricking six-digits on kicks and still holding\nTrips to Paris, I'd civilize every savage\nGive me one shot, I turn trife life to lavish\nPolitical prisoners set free, stress free\nNo work release, purple M3's and jet skis\nFeel the wind breeze in West Indies\nI'd let Coretta Scott-King mayor the cities, and reverse fiends to Willies\nIt sound foul, but every girl I meet'd go down-town\nI'd open every cell in Attica, send 'em to Africa!\nIf I ruled the world (Imagine that)\nI'd free all my sons \u2014 I love 'em, love 'em, baby!\nBlack diamonds and pearls\n(Could it be, if you could be mine, we'd both shine?)\nIf I ruled the world\n(Still living for today, in these last days and times)\n\nAnd then we'll walk right up to the sun, hand in hand\nWe'll walk right up to the sun, we won't land\nWe'll walk right up to the sun, hand in hand\nWe'll walk right up to the sun, we won't land\n\nYou love to hear the story how the thugs live in worry\nDucked down in car seats, heat's mandatory\nRunning from Jake, getting chased, hunger for papes\nThese are the breaks, many mistakes go down outta state\nWait! I had to let it marinate, we carry weight\nTrying to get laced, flip the ace, stack the safe\nMillionaire plan to keep the gat with the cocked hammer\nMaking moves in Atlanta, back-and-forth scrambler\n\u2018Cause you could have all the chips, be poor or rich\nStill, nobody want a nigga having shit!\nIf I ruled the world and everything in it, sky's the limit\nI'd push a Q45 Infinit'\nIt wouldn't be no such thing as jealousies, or B Felony\nStrictly living longevity to the destiny\nI thought I'd never see, but reality struck\nBetter find out before your time's out, what the fuck?!\nIf I ruled the world (Imagine that)\nI'd free all my sons \u2014 I love 'em, love 'em, baby!\nBlack diamonds and pearls\n(Could it be, if you could be mine, we'd both shine?)\nIf I ruled the world\n(Still living for today, in these last days and times)\nIf I ruled the world, if I ruled, if I ruled (Imagine that)\nI'd free all my sons, if I ruled, if I ruled\nI love 'em, love 'em, baby!\nBlack diamonds and pearls, black diamonds, black diamonds\n(Could it be, if you could be mine, we'd both shine)\nIf I ruled the world\n(Still livin' for today, in these last days and times)\n\nIf I ruled the world, if I ruled\nIf I ruled, I'd free all my sons\nBlack diamonds \u2014 I love 'em, love 'em, baby!\nBlack diamonds and pearls, if I ruled\nIf I ruled the world\nIf I ruled the world\nI love 'em, love 'em, baby!"}
{"text":"\nRepresent, represent\nRepresent, represent\nRepresent, represent\nRepresent, represent\n\nStraight up, shit is real\nAnd any day could be your last in the jungle\nGet murdered on a humble, guns'll blast, niggas tumble\nThe corners is the hot spot, full of mad criminals\nWho don't care, guzzling beers\nWe all stare at the out-of-towners\n(Aiyyo, yo, who that?) They better break North\nBefore we get the four pounders and take their face off\nThe streets is filled with undercovers, homicide chasing brothers\nThe D's on the roof tryin' to watch us and knock us\nAnd killer coppers even come through in helicopters\nI drink a little vodka, spark a L and hold a Glock for\nThe fronters, wannabe ill niggas and spot runners\nThinking it can't happen 'til I trap 'em and clap 'em\nAnd leave 'em done, won't even run about gods\nI don't believe in none of that shit, your facts are backwards\nNas is a rebel of the street corner\nPulling a TEC out the dresser; police got me under pressure\nYou might also like\nRepresent, represent\nRepresent, represent\nRepresent, represent\nRepresent, represent\n\nYo, they call me Nas, I'm not your legal type of fella\nMo\u00ebt drinking, marijuana smoking street dweller\nWho's always on the corner, rolling up bless\nWhen I dress, it's never nothing less than Guess\nCold be walking with a bop and my hat turned back\nLove committing sins and my friends sell crack\nThis nigga raps with a razor, keep it under my tongue\nThe school drop-out, never liked the shit from day one\n\u2018Cause life ain't shit but stress, fake niggas, and crab stunts\nSo I guzzle my Hennessy while pulling on mad blunts\nThe brutalizer, buddha-sizer, accelerator\nThe type of nigga who be pissing in your elevator\nSomehow the rap game reminds me of the crack game\nUsed to sport Bally's and Cazals with black frames\nNow I'm into fat chains, sex and TECs\nFly new chicks and new kicks, Heines and Beck's\n\nRepresent, represent\nRepresent, represent\nRepresent, represent\nNo doubt, see my stacks are fat, this is what it's about\nBefore the BDP conflict with MC Shan\nAround the time when Shante dissed the Real Roxanne\nI used to wake up every morning, see my crew on the block\nEvery day's a different plan that had us running from cops\nIf it wasn't hanging out in front of cocaine spots\nWe was at the candy factory, breaking the locks\nNowadays, I need the green in a flash just like the next man\nFuck a yard, God, let me see a hundred grand\nCould use a gun, son, but fuck being the wanted man\nBut if I hit rock bottom, then I'ma be the Son of Sam\nThen call the crew to get live too, with Swoop\nBarkim, my brother Jungle, Big Bo cooks up the blow\nMike'll chop it; Mayo, you count the profit\nMy shit is on the streets, this way the Jakes'll never stop it\nIt's your brain on drugs, to all fly bitches and thugs\n'Nuff respect to the projects, I'm ghost, one love\n\nRepresent y'all, represent\nRepresent y'all, represent\nRepresent y'all, represent\nRepresent y'all, represent\nOne time for your mothafuckin' mind\nThis goes out to everybody in New York\nThat's living the real fucking life in every projects, all over\nTo my man Big Will, he's still here\nThe 40 side of Vernon, my man Big L.E.S\nBig Cee-Lo from the Dime, Shawn Penn, the 40 busters\nMy crew the shorty busters, the 41st side of Vernon posse\nThe Goodfellas, my man Cormega, Lakey the Kid\nCan't forget Drawz, the Hillbillies\nMy man Slate, Wallethead, Black Jay, Big Oogie\nCrazy barrio spot, (Big Dove), we rock shit a lot, PHD\nAnd my man Preemo from Gang Starr\n'94 real shit y'all (word up Harry O)\nFuck y'all crab-ass niggas though!\nBitch ass niggas! Bitch ass niggas!\nYou bitch ass motherfuckers!\nCome to Queensbridge, motherfucker!\nYeah, yeah, let's bring it back\nThat's just a warm up\n\u2018Cause I can\u2013 on anybody, anybody"}
{"text":"\n(Nas is; Nas is; Nas is; Nas is; Nas is; Nas is; Nas is;\nNas is like; Nas is like; Nas is like)\nUmm, Premo, Nas\nYeah, yeah, yo\n(Nas is; Nas is; Nas is; Nas is; Nas is; Nas is; Nas is;\nNas is like)\nFreedom or jail, clips inserted, a baby's bein' born\nSame time a man is murdered \u2014 the beginnin' and end\nAs far as rap go, it's only natural I explain\nMy plateau and also what defines my name\nFirst it was Nasty, but times have changed\nAsk me now, I'm the artist, but hardcore, my sign's for pain\nI spent time in the game, kept my mind on fame\nSaw fiends shoot up and do lines of cocaine\nSaw my close friends shot, flatline, am I sane?\nThat depends, carry MAC-10's to practice my aim\nOn rooftops, tape CD covers to trees\nLine the barrel up with your weak picture then squeeze\nStreet scriptures for lost souls in the crossroads\nTo the corner thugs hustlin' for cars that cost dough\nTo the big dogs livin' large, takin' it light\nPushin' big toys, gettin' nice, enjoyin' your life\nIt's what you make it, suicide, few try to take it\nBelt tied around they neck in jail cells naked\nHeaven and Hell, rap legend, presence is felt\nAnd of course, N-A-S are the letters that spell... (Nas, Nas, Nas)\nYou might also like\nNas is like... life or death; I'm a rebel\nMy poetry's deep, I never fell\nNas is like... half-man, half-amazin' (Uh)\nNo doubt!\nNas is like... life or death; I'm a rebel (Uh, uh)\nMy poetry's deep, I never fell\nNas is like... half-man, half-amazin' (Uh)\nNo doubt! (Uh)\n\n(Nas is like...) Earth, Wind & Fire, rims and tires\nBulletproof glass, inside is the realest driver\nPlanets in orbit, line 'em up with the stars\nTarot cards, you can see the pharaoh Nas\n(Nas is like...) Iron Mike, messiah type\nBefore the Christ, After the Death, the last one left\nLet my cash invest in stock\nCame a long way from blastin' TEC's on blocks\nWent from Seiko to Rolex, ownin' acres\nFrom the projects with no chips, to large cake dough\nDimes givin' fellatio, siete zeros\nBet my 9 spit for the pesos\nBut what's it all worth? Can't take it with you under this earth\nRich men died and tried, but none of it worked\nThey just rob your grave, I'd rather be alive and paid\nBefore my number's called, history's made\nSome'll fall, but I rise \u2014 thug or die\nMakin' choices that determine my future under the sky\nTo rob, steal or kill, I'm wonderin' why\nIt's a dirty game, is any man worthy of fame?\nMuch success to you, even if you wish me the opposite\nSooner or later, we'll all see who the prophet is\nNas is like... life or death; I'm a rebel\nMy poetry's deep, I never fell\nNas is like... half-man, half-amazin' (C'mon)\nNo doubt!\nNas is like... life or death; I'm a rebel\nMy poetry's deep, I never fell\nNas is like... half-man, half-amazin'\nNo doubt! (Uh)\n\n(Nas is like...) Sex to a nympho, but nothin' sweet\nI'm like beef, bustin' heat through your windows\nI'm like a street sweeper, green leaf breather\nLike Greeks in Egypt, learnin' somethin' deep from they teachers\nI'm like crime, like your 9, your man you would die for\nAlways got you, I\u2019m like Pac, dude you would cry for\nI'm like a whole lot of loot, I'm like crisp money\nCorporate accounts from a rich company\nI'm like ecstasy for ladies\nI'm like all races combined in one man, like the '99 Summer Jam\nBulletproof Hummer man\nI'm like bein' locked down around new faces, and none of 'em fam\nI'm the feelin' of a millionaire spendin' a hundred grand\nI'm a poor man's dream, a thug poet\nLive it and I write down, and I watch it blow up\nY'all know what I'm like, y'all play it in ya system every night, now\nNas is like... life or death; I'm a rebel\nMy poetry's deep, I never fell\nNas is like... half-man, half-amazin'\nNo doubt!\nNas is like... life or death; I'm a rebel\nMy poetry's deep, I never fell\nNas is like... half-man, half-amazin'\nNo doubt! (Uh)\nNas is like"}
{"text":"\n(Right\u2026 Right\u2026)\nCheck me out y'all\nNasty Nas in your area\nAbout to cause mass hysteria\n\nBefore a blunt, I take out my fronts\nThen I start to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt\nYou couldn't catch me in the streets without a ton of reefer\nThat's like Malcolm X catchin' the Jungle Fever\nKing poetic, too much flavor, I'm major\nAtlanta ain't Brave-r, I pull a number like a pager\n\u2018Cause I'mma ace when I face the bass\n40-side is the place that is givin' me grace\nNow wait, another dose and you might be dead\nAnd I'm a Nike-head, I wear chains that excite the Feds\nAnd ain't a damn thing gonna change\nI'm a performer, strange, show the mic warmer was born to gain\nNas, why did you do it?\nYou know you got the mad-phat fluid when you rhyme\nIt's halftime\n\n(Right\u2026) It's halftime\n(Right\u2026) A-yo, it's halftime\n(Right\u2026) It's halftime\n(Right\u2026) Yeah, it's about halftime\nThis is how it feel, check it out, how it feel\nYou might also like\nIt's like that, you know it's like that\nI got it hemmed, now you never get the mic back\nWhen I attack, there ain't a army that could strike back\nSo I react, never calmly on a hype track\nI set it off with my own rhyme\n\u2018Cause I'm as ill as a convict who kills for phone time\nI max like cassettes, I flex like sex\nIn your stereo sets, Nas'll catch wreck\nI used to hustle, now all I do is relax and strive\nWhen I was young, I was a fan of The Jackson 5\nI drop jewels, wear jewels, hope to never run it\nWith more kicks than a baby in a mother's stomach\nNasty Nas has to rise \u2018cause I'm wise\nThis is exercise 'til the microphone dies\nBack in '83, I was an MC sparkin'\nBut I was too scared to grab the mics in the parks and\nKick my little raps \u2018cause I thought niggas wouldn't understand\nAnd now in every jam, I'm the fuckin' man\nI rap in front of more niggas than in the slave ships\nI used to watch \"CHiPs\", now I load Glock clips\nI got to have it, I miss Mr. Magic\nVersatile, my style switches like a faggot\nBut not bisexual, I'm an intellectual of rap\nI'm a professional, and that's no question, yo\nThese are the lyrics of the man, you can't near it, understand?\n\u2018Cause in the streets, I'm well-known like the number man\nAm I in place with the bass and format?\nExplore rap, and tell me Nas ain't all that\nAnd next time I rhyme, I be foul\nWhenever I freestyle, I see trial niggas say I'm wild\nI hate a rhyme-biter's rhyme\nStay tuned, Nas soon, the real rap comes at halftime\n(Right\u2026) It's halftime\n(Right\u2026) Exhale, check it, it's halftime\n(Right\u2026) It's halftime\n(Right\u2026) It's real in the field\nWord life, check it\n\nI got it goin' on, even flip a morning song\nEvery afternoon, I kick half the tune\nAnd in the darkness, I'm heartless like when the NARC's hit\nWord to Marcus Garvey, I hardly sparked it\n\u2018Cause when I blast the herb, that's my word\nI be slayin' 'em fast, doin' this, that and the third\nBut chill, pass to Andre, and let's slay\nI bag bitches up at John Jay and hit a matin\u00e9e\nPuttin' hits on 5-0\n\u2018Cause when it's my time to go, I wait for God with the .44\nAnd biters can't come near\nAnd yo, go to Hell to the foul cop who shot Garcia\nI won't plant seeds, don't need an extra mouth I can't feed\nThat's extra Phillie change, more cash for damp weed\nThis goes out to Manhattan, the Island of Staten\nBrooklyn and Queens is livin' fat and\nThe Boogie Down, enough props, enough clout\nIll Will, rest in peace, yo I'm out\n(Right\u2026) It's still halftime\n(Right\u2026) To the Queensbridge crew\nTo the Queensbridge crew, you know it's halftime\n(Right\u2026) '92, it's halftime\n(Right\u2026) Yo police, police man, yo let's get ghost\nHalftime\u2026"}
{"text":"\nAight, fuck that shit! Word, word\nFuck that other shit, y'know what I'm sayin'?\nWe gonna do a lil somethin' like this\nY'know what I'm sayin'?\n(Stay up on that shit)\nKeep it on and on and on and on and\nKnow'm sayin'? Big Nas\nGrand Wizard, God, what is it?\n(It's like\u2026) Haha, you know what I'm sayin'?\nYo, go ahead and rip that shit, dun!\n\nI rap for listeners, blunt heads, fly ladies and prisoners\nHennessy-holders and old-school niggas, then I be dissin' a\nUnofficial that smoke Woolie Thai\nI dropped out of Cooley High, gassed up by a cokehead cutie pie\nJungle survivor, fuck who's the live-r\nMy man put the battery in my back, a difference from Energizer\nSentence begins indented with formality\nMy duration's infinite, money-wise or physiology\nPoetry, that's a part of me, retardedly bop\nI drop the ancient manifested hip-hop straight off the block\nI reminisce on park jams, my man was shot for his sheep coat\nChoco blunts'll make me see him drop in my weed smoke\nIt's real, grew up a trife life, the times of white lines, the high pipes\nMurderous night times and knife fights invite crimes\nChill on the block with Cognac, cold strapped\nWith my peeps that's into drug money market interact\nNo sign of the beast in the blue Chrysler, I guess that means peace\nFor niggas, no sheisty vice to just snipe ya\nStart off the dice-rollin' match, from craps to cee-lo\nWith side-bets, so roll a deuce, nothin' below\n(Peace, God!) Peace, God! Now the shit is explained\nI'm takin' niggas on a trip straight through memory lane\nIt's like that, y'all\u2026\nYou might also like\n\"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\nOne for the money\nTwo for pussy and foreign cars\nThree for Aliz\u00e9, niggas deceased or behind bars\nI rap divine, God\nCheck the prognosis \u2014 is it real or showbiz?\nMy window faces shootouts, drug overdoses\nLive amongst no roses, only the drama\nFor real, a nickel-plate is my fate, my medicine is the ganja\nHere's my basis; my razor embraces many faces\nYour telephone blown, black, stitches or fat shoelaces\nPeoples are petro, dramatic, automatic .44 I let blow\nAnd back down po-po when I'm vexed, so\nMy pen taps the paper, then my brain's blank\nI see dark streets, hustlin' brothers who keep the same rank\nPumpin' for somethin' \u2014 some'll prosper, some fail\nJudges hangin' niggas, uncorrect bails for direct sales\nMy intellect prevails from a hangin' cross with nails\nI reinforce the frail with lyrics that's real\nWord to Christ, a disciple of streets, trifle on beats\nI decipher prophecies through a mic and say \"Peace!\"\nI hung around the older crews while they sling smack to dingbats\nThey spoke of Fat Cat; that nigga's name made bell rings, black\nSome fiends scream about Supreme Team, a Jamaica Queens thing\nUptown was Alpo, son, heard he was kingpin\nYo, fuck, rap is real! Watch the herbs stand still\nNever talkin' to snakes 'cause the words of man kill\nTrue in the game, as long as blood is blue in my vein\nI pour my Heineken brew to my deceased crew on memory lane\n\"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"Now, let me take a trip down memory lane\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"The most dangerous MC is\u2026\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"The most dangerous MC is\u2026\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"The most dangerous MC is\u2026\"\n\"Comin' outta Queensbridge\"\n\"The most dangerous MC is\u2026\"\n\"Me number one, and you know where me from\""}
{"text":"This is what.. this what they want, huh?\nThis is what it's all about, word\nTime to take affirmative action, son\nThey just don't understand, you know what I mean?\nNiggas comin' sideways, thinkin' stuff is sweet, man\nYou know what I mean?\nNiggas don't understand the four devils:\nLust, envy, hate, jealousy\nWicked niggas, man\n\nYo, sit back, relax, catch your contact, sip your Cognac\nAnd let's all wash this money through this laundromat\nSneak attack, the new cats in rap worth top dollar\nIn fact, touch mines and I'll react like a Rottweiler!\nWho could relate? We play for high stakes at gunpoint\nCatch 'em and break, undress 'em, tie 'em with tape\nNo escape, the Corleone, fettuccine Capone\nRoam in your own zone or get kidnapped and clapped in your dome\nWe got it sewn, The Firm art of war is unknown\nLower your tone, face it, homicide cases get thrown\nAristocrats politickin' daily wit' diplomats\nSee, me, I'm an official mack, Lex Coupe triple black\nYou might also like\nCriminal thoughts in the blue Porsche\nMy destiny's to be the new boss\nThat nigga Paulie gotta die, he too soft\nThat nigga's dead on a ki of heroin\nThey found his head on the couch wit' his dick in his mouth\nI put the hit out!\nYo! The smoothest killer since Bugsy, bitches love me\nIn Queens where my drugs be, I wear Guess jeans and rugbies\nYo, my people from Medina, they will see ya when you re-up\nBring your heater, all your C.R.E.A.M. go between us\nReal shit! My Desert Eagle got a ill grip\nI chill wit' niggas that hit Dominican spots and steal bricks\nMy red beam made a dread scream and sprayed a Fed team\nCorleone be turnin' niggas to fiends\nYukons and ninja black Lexus\n'Mega \u2014 the pretty boy with Mafia connections\nIt's The Firm, nigga, set it!\n\nYo, my mind is seein' through your design like Blind Fury\nI shine jewelry, sippin' on crushed grapes, we lust papes\nAnd push cakes inside the casket at Just' wake\nIt's sickenin', he just finished biddin' upstate\nAnd now the projects is talkin' that \"Somebody gotta die\" shit\nIt's logic, as long as it's nobody that's in my clique\nMy man Smoke know how to expand coke in Mr. Coffee\nFeds cost me two mill' to get the system off me\nLife's a bitch, but God forbid the bitch divorce me\nI'll be flooded with ice so Hellfire can't scorch me\nCuban cigars, meetin' Foxy at Demars, movin' cars\nYour top papi Se\u00f1or Escobar\nIn the black Camaro, Firm deep\nAll my niggas hail the blackest sparrow\nWallabees be the apparel\nThrough the darkest tunnel\nI got visions of multi millions in the biggest bundle\nIn a Lex pushed by my nigga Jungle\nE-Moneybags got Mo\u00ebt Chandon, bundle of 62\nThey ain't got a clue what we about to do\nMy whole team, we shittin' hard like Czar\nSosa, Foxy Brown, Cormega and Escobar\nI keep a phat marquess piece, laced in all the illest snake skin\nArmani sweaters, Carolina Herrera\nBe The Firm, baby!\nFrom BK to the 'Bridge, my nigga Wiz\nOperation Firm Biz, so what the deal is?\nI keep a phat jew-el, sippin' Cristy\nSittin' on top of fifty grand in the Nautica Van, uh!\nWe stay incogni' like all them thug niggas in Marcy\nThe gods \u2014 they praise Allah with visions of Gandhi\nBet it on, my whole crew is Don Juan\nOn Cayman Island with a case of Cristal\nAnd Baba Shallah spoke, nigga with them Cubans that snort coke\nRaw though, an ounce mixed with leak, that's pure though\nFlippin' the bigger picture\nThe bigger nigga with the cheddar was mad dripper\nHe had a fuckin' villa in Manilla\nWe gotta flee to Panama\nBut wait \u2014 it's half-and-half, ki's is one and two-fifth, so how we flip?\n32 grams raw, chop it in half, get 16, double it, times 3\nWe got 48, which mean a whole lot of C.R.E.A.M\nDivide the profit by 4, subtract it by 8, we back to 16\nNow add the other 2 that 'Mega bringin' through\nSo let's see, if we flip this other ki, then that's more for me\nMad coke and mad leak\nPlus a 500, cut in half is 250\nNow triple that \u2014 times 3, we got three quarters of another ki\nThe Firm, baby, Vol. 1, uh!"}
{"text":"\nOne time\nYeah, yeah\n\nYo, all I need is one mic, one beat, one stage\nOne nigga front, my face on the front page\nOnly if I had one gun, one girl and one crib\nOne God to show me how to do things his son did\nPure, like a cup of virgin blood\nMixed with 151, one sip'll make a nigga flip\nWritin' names on my hollow tips, plottin' shit\nMad violence, who I'm gon' body? This hood politics\nAcknowledge it, leave bodies chopped up in garbages\nSeeds watch us, grow up and try to follow us\nPolice watch us, roll up and try knockin' us\nOne knee, I ducked, could it be my time is up?\nBut my luck, I got up, the cop shot again\nBus stop glass burst, a fiend drops his Heineken\nRicochetin' between the spots that I'm hidin' in\nBlackin' out as I shoot back, fuck gettin' hit\nThis is my hood, I'ma rep to the death of it\n'Til everybody come home, little niggas is grown\nHoodrats, don't abortion your womb\nWe need more warriors soon, sent from the stars, sun and the moon\nIn this life of police chases, street sweepers and coppers\nStick-up kids with no conscience leavin' victims with doctors\nIf you really think you ready to die with nines out\nThis is what Nas is 'bout, nigga, the time is now\nYou might also like\nYo, all I need is one mic\nAll I need is one mic (That's all I need)\nAll I need is one mic (All I need, niggas)\nAll I need is one mic (Yeah)\n\nAll I need is one blunt, one page and one pen\nOne prayer, tell God forgive me for one sin\nMatter fact, maybe more than one\nLook back at all the hatred against me, fuck all of them\nJesus died at age thirty-three, there's thirty-three shots\nFrom twin Glocks, there's sixteen apiece, that's thirty-two\nWhich means one of my guns was holdin' seventeen\nTwenty-seven hit your crew, six went into you\nEverybody gotta die sometime, hope your funeral\nNever gets shot up, bullets tear through the innocent\nNothin' is fair, niggas roll up shootin' from wheelchairs\nMy heart is racin', tastin' revenge in the air\nI let this shit slide for too many years, too many times\nNow I'm strapped with a couple of MACs, two mini nines\nIf y'all niggas really with me, get busy, load up the semis\nDo more than just hold it, explode the clip until you empty\nThere's nothin' in our way, they bust, we bust, they rush, we rush\nLead flyin', feel it? I feel it in my gut\nThat we take these bitches to war, lie 'em down\n'Cause we stronger now, my nigga, the time is now\nAll I need is one mic (That's all I need, niggas, that's all I need)\nAll I need is one mic (There's nothin' else in the world)\nAll I need is one mic (That's all a nigga need to do his thing, you know?)\nAll I need is one mic (This is all I need)\n\nAll I need is one life, one try, one breath, I'm one man\nWhat I stand for speaks for itself, they don't understand\nDon't wanna see me on top, too egotistical\nTalkin' all that slick shit the same way these bitches do\nWonder what my secrets is, niggas'll move on you\nOnly if they know what your weakness is, I have none\nToo late to grab guns, I'm blastin' 'cause I'm a cool nigga\nThought I wouldn't have that ass done? Fooled you niggas\nWhat you call an infinite brawl, eternal souls clashin'\nWar gets deep, some beef is everlastin'\nComplete with thick scars\nBrothers knifin' each other up in prison yards\nDrama, where does it start?\nYou know the block was ill as a youngster\nEvery night it was like a cop'll get killed, body found in a dumpster\nFor real a hustler, purchased my Range, niggas throwin' dirt on my name\nJealous 'cause fiends got they work and complained\nBitches left me 'cause they thought I was finished\nShoulda knew she wasn't true, she came to me when her man caught a sentence\nDiamonds are blindin', I never make the same mistakes\nMovin' with a change of pace, lighter load, see now the king is straight\nSwellin' my melon 'cause none of these niggas real\nHeard they were tellin' police, how can a kingpin squeal?\nThis is crazy, I'm on the right track, I'm finally found\nYou need some soul-searchin', the time is now\nAll I need is one mic (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAll I need is one mic (All I ever needed in this world, fuck cash)\nAll I need is one mic (Fuck the cars, the jewelry)\nAll I need is one mic (To spread my voice to the whole world, baby)"}
{"text":"I know I can\nBe what I wanna be\nIf I work hard at it\nI'll be where I wanna be\nI know I can (I know I can)\nBe what I wanna be (Be what I wanna be)\nIf I work hard at it (If I work hard at it)\nI'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be)\n\nBe, b-boys and girls, listen up\nYou can be anything in the world, in God we trust\nAn architect, doctor, maybe an actress\nBut nothing comes easy, it takes much practice\nLike, I met a woman who's becoming a star\nShe was very beautiful, leaving people in awe\nSinging songs, Lena Horne, but the younger version\nHung with the wrong person, got her strung on that heroin\nCocaine, sniffing up drugs, all in her nose\nCould've died, so young, now looks ugly and old\nNo fun 'cause now when she reaches for hugs, people hold they breath\n'Cause she smells of corrosion and death\nWatch the company you keep and the crowd you bring\n'Cause they came to do drugs and you came to sing\nSo if you gonna be the best, I'ma tell you how\nPut your hands in the air, and take the vow\nYou might also like\nI know I can (I know I can)\nBe what I wanna be (Be what I wanna be)\nIf I work hard at it (If I work hard at it)\nI'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be)\nI know I can (I know I can)\nBe what I wanna be (Be what I wanna be)\nIf I work hard at it (If I work hard at it)\nI'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be)\nI know I can (I know I can)\nBe what I wanna be (Be what I wanna be)\nIf I work hard at it (If I work hard at it)\nI'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be)\n\nBe, b-boys and girls, listen again\nThis is for grown-looking girls who's only 10\nThe ones who watch videos and do what they see\nAs cute as can be, up in the club with fake ID\nCareful, 'fore you meet a man with HIV\nYou can host the TV like Oprah Winfrey\nWhatever you decide, be careful, some men be\nRapists, so act your age, don't pretend to be\nOlder than you are, give yourself time to grow\nYou thinking he can give you wealth, but so\nYoung boys, you can use a lot of help, you know\nYou thinking life's all about smoking weed and ice\nYou don't wanna be my age and can't read and write\nBegging different women for a place to sleep at night\nSmart boys turn to men and do whatever they wish\nIf you believe you can achieve, then say it like this\nI know I can (I know I can)\nBe what I wanna be (Be what I wanna be)\nIf I work hard at it (If I work hard at it)\nI'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be)\nI know I can (I know I can)\nBe what I wanna be (Be what I wanna be)\nIf I work hard at it (If I work hard at it)\nI'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be)\n\nBe, be-fore we came to this country\nWe were kings and queens, never porch monkeys\nThere was empires in Africa called Kush\nTimbuktu, where every race came to get books\nTo learn from black teachers, who taught Greeks and Romans\nAsian Arabs and gave them gold, when\nGold was converted to money it all changed\nMoney then became empowerment for Europeans\nThe Persian military invaded\nThey heard about the gold, the teachings, and everything sacred\nAfrica was almost robbed naked\nSlavery was money, so they began making slave ships\nEgypt was the place that Alexander the Great went\nHe was so shocked at the mountains with black faces\nShot up they nose to impose what basically\nStill goes on today, you see?\nIf the truth is told, the youth can grow\nThey learn to survive until they gain control\nNobody says you have to be gangstas, hoes\nRead more, learn more, change the globe\nGhetto children, do your thing\nHold your head up, little man, you're a king\nYoung princess, when you get your wedding ring\nYour man will sing, \"She's my Queeeeeen\"\nI know I can (I know I can)\nBe what I wanna be (Be what I wanna be)\nIf I work hard at it (If I work hard at it)\nI'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be)\nI know I can (I know I can)\nBe what I wanna be (Be what I wanna be)\nIf I work hard at it (If I work hard at it)\nI'll be where I wanna be (I'll be where I wanna be)\n\nSave the music, y'all\nSave the music, y'all\nSave the music, y'all\nSave the music, y'all\nSave the music\n"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsDaughters Lyrics\n\nCheck it out\nI call it, yeah, yeah\n\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nFor my brothers with daughters\n\nI saw my daughter send a letter to some boy her age\nWho locked up, first I regretted it, then caught my rage\nLike, how could I not protect her from this awful phase?\nNever tried to hide who I was, she was taught and raised\nLike a princess, but while I'm on stage I can't leave her defenseless\nPlus she's seen me switchin' women, Pops was on some pimp shit\nShe heard stories of her daddy thuggin'\nSo if her husband is a gangster, can't be mad, I'll love him\nNever, for her I want better, homie in jail \u2013 dead that\nWait 'til he come home, you can see where his head's at\nNiggas got game, they be tryna live\nHe seen your Mama crib, plus I'm sure he know who your father is\nAlthough you real, plus a honest kid\nDon't think I'm slow, I know you probably had that chronic lit\nYou seventeen, I got a problem with it\nShe looked at me like I'm not the cleanest father figure\nBut she rockin' with it\nYou might also like\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nNot sayin' that our sons are less important\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nNot sayin' that our sons are less important\n\nThis morning I got a call, nearly split my wig\nThis social network said: \"Nas, go and get your kid!\"\nShe's on Twitter, I know she ain't gon' post no pic\nOf herself underdressed \u2013 no inappropriate shit, right?\nHer mother cried when she answered\nSaid she don't know what got inside this child's mind, she planted\nA box of condoms on her dresser, then she Instagram'd it\nAt this point I realized I ain't the strictest parent\nI'm too loose, I'm too cool with her\nShould've drove more time to school with her\nI thought I dropped enough jewels on her\nTook her from private school, so she can get a balance\nTo public school, they're too nurture teen talents\nThey grow fast, one day she's your little princess\nNext day she's talkin' boy business \u2013 what is this?\nThey say the coolest playas and foulest heart breakers in the world\nGod gets us back, he makes us have precious little girls\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nNot sayin' that our sons are less important\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nFor my brothers with daughters, I call this\nNot sayin' that our sons are less important\n\nAnd I ain't tryin' to mess your thing up\nBut I just wanna see you dream up\nI finally understand\nIt ain't easy to raise a girl as a single man\nNah, the way mothers feel for they sons\nHow fathers feel for they daughters\nWhen he date, he straight, chip off his own papa\nWhen she date, we wait behind the door with a sawed-off\n\u2018Cause we think no one is good enough for our daughters\nLove"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsCherry Wine Lyrics\nWhere is he, the man who was just like me?\nI heard he was hidin' somewhere I can't see\nWhere is he, the man who was just like me?\nHeard he was hidin' somewhere I can't see\nAnd I'm alone, and I realize that when I get home\nI wanna go through my red and my cherry\nYes, I'm alone, and I realize when I get home\nI wanna go through my red and my cherry\n\nI want someone who like the champagne I like, my a-alike\nSomeone to talk me off the bridge any day or night\nShe teach me how to live, she ain\u2019t afraid of life\nNot easily impressed with the rich and famous life\n'Cause she done been there and heard all the rumors before\nShe loves art, she ride out with me on my music tour\nShe like the herb's natural medicine, she cookin' good\nShe tell me everything is cool when it ain't lookin' good\nFor real, the world so ill, yo, I want a girl so real\nWho not after material wealth but get dough still\nOr maybe an educator, a lady with etiquette\nWho can be from out the hood or even work for the president\nAs long as there\u2019s no selfishness\nYes, as long as her love for the people is deep-rooted and evident\nYou can be easily recruited, you\u2019re heaven-sent\nYour smile put me at ease\nYou\u2019re the woman I need, but where is she?\nYou might also like\nWhere is he, the man who was just like me?\nI heard he was hidin' somewhere I can't see\nWhere is he, the man who was just like me?\nHeard he was hidin' somewhere I can't see\nAnd I'm alone, and I realize that when I get home\nI wanna go through my red and my cherry\nYes, I'm alone, and I realize when I get home\nI wanna go through my red and my cherry\n\nI hate when people write me hostile texts\nOn account of my lifestyle's perception\nInvade my personal life? Out of the question\nWhat are they expectin'?\nI be tryin' to reply and they never suppose I get my quiet time in?\nThey think forever I\u2019m rollin' in dough, swimmin' in a pool of cash\nGod, wouldn\u2019t they know or am I a fool to ask?\nI\u2019m well known, got people comin' at me mad\nI had to tell homes, I don\u2019t keep a cell phone, my bad\nI drag off the L and try to silence it\nThe noise in my head, the curse of the talented\nStrong communicator, vagabond\nI'd gallivant around the Equator, if that would get me off the radar\nIt's so intense, I'm on my Lilo & Stitch\nPour my Pinot Grigio and Cris' with some lime, what is this?\nAn immaculate version of \"Me & My Bitch\" by Biggie\nWith all respect, 'cause you the only one that gets me\nWhere is he, the man who was just like me?\nI heard he was hidin' somewhere I can't see\nWhere is he, the man who was just like me?\nHeard he was hidin' somewhere I can't see\nAnd I'm alone, and I realize that when I get home\nI wanna go through my red and my cherry\nYes, I'm alone, and I realize when I get home\nI wanna go through my red and my cherry\n\nYeah, yeah, let\u2019s pour some cherry wine\nEverything\u2019s good, everything\u2019s fine\nYeah, yeah, we bring it every time\nYeah, pour a little cherry wine\nYeah, hey yo, Salaam\nYeah, I think they know the time\nEverything\u2019s good, everything\u2019s fine\nYeah, pour a little cherry wine, yeah\nLife is good, life is good, yeah\nLife is good, no matter what, life is good\nLife is good, life is good, yeah\nNo matter what, life is good\nWhere is he, the man who was just like me?\nI heard he was hidin' somewhere I can't see\nWhere is he, the man who was just like me?\nHeard he was hidin' somewhere I can't see\nAnd I'm alone, and I realize that when I get home\nI wanna go through my red and my cherry\nYes, I'm alone, and I realize when I get home\nI wanna go through my red and my cherry"}
{"text":"Freedom or jail, clips inserted\nA baby's bein' born same time a man is murdered\nThe beginning and end, as far as rap goes\nIt's only natural, I explain my plateau\nAnd also what defines my name\n\nYeah, long live the idols, may they never be your rivals\nPac was like Jesus, Nas wrote the Bible\nNow what you're 'bout to hear's a tale of glory and sin\nNo I.D. my mentor now let the story begin\n\nI ain't mad at you, young king, this unsung song is hauntin'\nAlong comes a one son called a offspring\nThe Earth spins, my Old Earth grin, sung a church hymn\nShe birthed in September, took my first wind, again, the Earth spins\nI jumped in my first Benz, fled out, lead out\nScreams got in the game and took bread out\nThe nerve of these niggas, weak flow, yo Cole let's murder this sequel\nFreedom or jail from Fayetteville to QB though\n'Cause back when I was young there was massive niggas\nBut I passed them niggas, just bein' nasty, nigga\nMilitary hat, fatigue pants saggin', Henny'd up\nExecs askin' will he live to see his own release date happen\nStraight off the corner with the armor, Arm and Hammer\nBut I had a appeal, I was a charmer\nYet still bein' my mama's son was my biggest honor\nThis shit was just kinda just a hobby in my project lobby\nWe was tryna be the Queensbridge Cosby's\nBut the street life robbed me of that, so I had to put it in raps\nAnd who could I ask for help? Older niggas was gettin' mad\nBut that's the gift and the curse, that's the good and the bad\nAt least you got Jay, but he already one of the greats\nAnd it's hard for the great to tell somebody how to be great\nNigga I tried and niggas threw that shit right back in my face\nThey took my cosign, but they ain't let me EP their tapes\nAnd when they joint tanked, that's when they point blame\nSo point blank, young Cole, you won't be the same\nThe first album freedoms and them fourth album pressures\nA big difference between 'em but I get why you said it\nRadio records are needed, I just wanted it to bring the warnin'\nGlobal warmin' to that cold world you was breathin'\nThat's some advice I never got\nIf I don't sell another record, I'll just steady rock\nWhile you was writin' down my rhymes I was just tryna show you\nThat if you say what's on ya mind, you can stand the test of time\nNow I'm playin' Born Sinner loud, saw you live, rock the crowd\nLike wow, you made your nigga Nas proud\nYou might also like\nSo you ain't let Nas down\nIt's just part of the game, becoming a rap king, my nigga\nYou ain't let Nas down\nHow that sound? Here the crown, pass it to you like nothin', nigga\nYou ain't let Nas down\n\nLong live the idols, may they never be your rivals\nSlick Rick was like Jesus, G Rap wrote the Bible\nNow what you're 'bout to hear's a tale of glory and sin\nLarge Professor's my mentor, that's how the story end"}
{"text":"\nEscobar Season has returned\nIt's been a long time, been a long time comin'\nIt's life or death for me now\nBut you know, there's no turnin' back now\nThis is what makes me, this is what I am\nFeel me? Let's go\n\nYou can hate me now (Q.B.)\nBut I won't stop now (Real niggas)\n'Cause I can't stop now (Bravehearts)\nYou can hate me now (C'mon)\nBut I won't stop now (Uh)\n'Cause I can't stop now\nYou can hate me now\nYou can hate me now\n\nWell, you hate me, I'm gon' hate you too\nIt's as simple as that\nDie motherfucker, die motherfucker, die!\nYou don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck\nGo down any way you want it to go down\nYou might also like\nDo it now\nWeak, jealous motherfuckers!\nDo it now, do it now\n\nDon't hate me, hate the money I see (Yeah), clothes that I buy (Uh-huh)\nIce that I wear, flows that I try (C'mon)\nClose your eyes (That's right), picture me rollin', Sixes, money foldin'\nBitches, honeys that swollen to riches, Nas get in ya\nMost critically acclaimed Pulitzer Prize winner\nBest storyteller, thug narrator, my style's greater (You the best, that's right)\nModel dater, big threat to a lot of you haters (Haha)\nCommentators ringside try watchin' my paper (Watch this)\nAlmost a decade, quite impressive\nMost of the best is in the essence for this rap shit that I stand for\nExpandin' more to the big screen, Bill Gates dreams\nBut it seems you'd rather see me in jail with state greens (Hah, picture that)\nWant me off the scene fast, but good things last\nLike your favorite MC still makin' some mean cash\nFirst rapper to bring a platinum plaque back to the projects\nBut you still wanna hate, be my guest, I suggest\n\nMoney is power, motherfucker!\nI got millions of thugs on salary\nDo it now!\nYou can hate me now (I won't stop)\nBut I won't stop now (I can't stop)\n'Cause I can't stop now (Now) (You can hate me)\nYou can hate me now (Do it now) (I hate you too)\nBut I won't stop now (C'mon) (You can hate me now)\n'Cause I can't stop now (C'mon)\nYou can hate me now (Do it now) (You can hate me now)\nYou can hate me now\n\nDo it now! I told you, do it now!\nLet's go\n\nYou wanna hate me, then hate me; what can I do\nBut keep gettin' money? Funny, I was just like you\nI had to hustle hard, never give up, until I made it\nNow y'all sayin': \"That's a clever nigga, nothin' to play with.\"\nHate on me, I blew but I'm the same OG\nPeople warned me: \"When you on top there's envy\"\nTook my niggas out the hood, but you doubt on us\nSayin' we left the hood but can't get it out of us\nMy bad, should I step out my shoes, give 'em to you?\nHere's my cars and my house, you can live in that too\nCriticize when I flow for the street, hate my dress code\nGucci this, Fendi that \u2013 what you expect, hoe?\nNickname Esco, took this game to its threshold\nBest flow, I bet the whole U.S. know\nTry to make it like you the realest, but who the illest?\nThink we all know the answer to that, 'cause niggas feel this, right?\nYou think I'ma come this far\nAnd let you niggas stop me now?\nI hate you too! (Do it now!)\n\nYou can hate me now (I won't stop)\nBut I won't stop now (Now) (I can't stop)\n'Cause I can't stop now (Do it now) (You can hate me)\nYou can hate me now (C'mon) (I hate you too)\nBut I won't stop now (Uh) (You can hate me now)\n'Cause I can't stop now (Uh, uh)\nYou can hate me now (Do it now) (You can hate me now)\nYou can hate me now (Do it now)\n\nI like this, I like the way this feels (Let's go)\n\nIt's a thin line between paper and hate\nFriends and snakes, nine milli's and thirty-eights\nHell or the Pearly Gates; I was destined to come\nPredicted, blame God, he blew breath in my lungs\nSecond to none, wicked turn wives to widows (Yeah)\nShoot through satin pillows, the desolate one (Right)\nTook a little time to claim my spot\nJammin' up the border to this game stop, and I side with the Lord (Uh)\nRide for the cause while drivin' niggas shot at my doors (That's right)\nPlottin' I'm sure, to catch me with they Glocks to my jaws\nTried stickin' me up, but I flipped on these ducks (You tried?)\nInstead of me, ambulances were pickin' 'em up (That's what you hate)\nNiggas fear what they don't understand\nHate what they can't conquer, guess it's just inferior man\nBecame a monster, on top of the world, never fallin'\nI'm as real as they come, from day one, forever ballin', c'mon!\n\n(Yeah) (It won't stop)\nYou ain't never seen a nigga like me (It won't stop) ever in your life (You can hate me) (Never!)\nAnd that's what you can't understand!\n\nYou can hate me now (C'mon) (I won't stop)\nBut I won't stop now (I can't stop)\n'Cause I can't stop now (Do it now, do it now) (You can hate me)\nYou can hate me now (Do it now, do it now, niggas) (I hate you too)\nBut I won't stop now (C'mon) (You can hate me now)\n'Cause I can't stop now (Hate me now)\nYou can hate me now (You can hate me now) (Hate me now)\nYou can hate me now (You can hate me now) (C'mon, niggas!)\n\nYou can hate me now (C'mon, niggas!) (You can hate me now)\nBut I won't stop now (Do it now! Get this shit over with!)\n(I won't stop now)\nIt ain't gon' never stop, niggas! (It can't stop...)"}
{"text":"Respectfully\n\nBucket on low like Erick and Parrish\nClosed casket flow, all you niggas get deaded\nThey don't give you one single rose while you can smell it\nSo I pick from my own garden (Garden)\nWanna go out in my garden like Godfather\nGrandkids and a Rottweiler got over the block trauma (Yeah, trauma)\nSo what you sayin', nigga? You gots to chill (Uh-huh)\nThinkin' you the truth, really you not for real (EPMD!)\nBack to back with it, the hardest shit of the year (Nasir Jones, remix)\n\nEPMD, we back in business\nAin't nobody fuckin' with us, come to your senses (Uh)\nP is the second comin' of God, som\u0435thin' to witness\nPiece of shit, fly on your h\u0435ad like Mike Pence's, we in the trenches\nI'm mad, better yet, I'm on a rampage\nMy people can't even get minimum wage\nFuck a stimulus (Uh), give me some interest (Uh)\nGive me a loan (Oh), give me a home\nGive me that land you owe me so I can roam\nSo when you trespass, blaow, one in your dome\nBest wishes, ghost 'em like he Tommy\nAin't worried 'bout nothing 'cause Hit Squad behind me\nYou might also like\nEPMD, we back in business\nI visualize what it is, not what it isn't\nWe at the mafia table next to the kitchen\nEatin' Michelin Stars, countin' a million\n\nDun! I let it go for the family, meetin's at Cote in Miami\nThem wine bottles on maggie, extra large\nSign up for my masterclass, Escobar\nFeet up at Mets Stadium at my restaurant\nTied in from AZ to Dave East\nYou know my thoughts get crazy\nMy teachers, they couldn't grade me\nI know some Haitians in Dade County, got choppers in Haiti\nShe booked a flight to Colombia, made her body amazin'\nJust to post it on Tumblr, this that \"fuck up the summer\" shit\nI don't care what you comin' with, me and Hit-Boy runnin' shit (Runnin' shit)\nBig gold, rope chains, but they flooded now (Yeah, flooded now)\nPull up with the Ghost like a haunted house (Haunted house)\nShe gettin' scary, blood on my hands like Carrie\nMight walk through a cemetery to see where hip-hop is buried\nI said it was dead, but it faked its death like Machiavelli\nYou see letters in red splatter, look like sauce and spaghetti\n(Yeah, ready?)\nEPMD, we're back in business (What?)\nLivin' in cramped conditions, will give you ammunition\nI stock those shelves, I got those shells like Taco Bell and I'm not gon' fail\nI got no L's (Noels) like Christmas, you don't wanna make the claws (Claus) come out (Nah)\nY'all should call yourselves Santa (Why?) 'cause none of y'all are real (Nah)\nNot a 'single one' (Like what?), like a dollar bill (Yeah)\nJust like your bitch in appellate court, she's on a pill (Appeal)\nWe got her a 'bond' and she'll\nNever 'bail' on me (Bail on me), not even outta jail (Haha, jail)\nEPMD, but me, I gots no chill (Ch-chill)\nJust a lotta skrill\nLady, my paper's so crazy, I just tossed a mil' out the window of my mobile\nOn the fuckin' freeway on the way here (Yeah)\nLike Rudolph and his homies when they pullin' the sleigh, yeah\nThat's a lot of bucks flyin' when I'm makin' it rain, dear\nGreen on me but no weed, shorty, just these, darling\nA pocket full of pills, some are Tylenol 3s, prolly two or three Molly\nSo some are E  (Summary), which reminds me of \"Rap Summary,\" mami\nMy theme song, me and \"P\" always used to play that shit on repeat all day\nSo please call me \"Big Daddy\" (Daddy)\nPlus I got the Kane (Cane) and \"Lean On Me\" (Yeah)\nMCs, I'm eatin' you B-I-T-C-H's like tortilla chips\nMe, I'm free of debt, yeah, green is on Chia Pet (Woo)\nThis is the effects of my old neighborhood misery index\nPoverty at its peak, OCD and PTSD, I guess\nR.I.P. out to DMX, Stezo E and Nipsey\nEcstasy and Prince Markie Dee, MF DOOM, I hit 50 via text\nTold him that I love him 'cause I don't even know when I'ma see him next (Nah)\nTomorrow could be your death (Bring that beat back)\nYeah, and this shit ain't for the faint\n'Cause the brain's illa trained killer, danger, deranged\nAnd I drank all the DayQuil (Yeah) I blank on the paper\nThen wait 'til the page fill up (What?)\nHate spiller, shameful the strength of a pain pill or tranq'\nI just pray for the day when I'm able to say that I'm placed with the greats\nAnd my name's with the Kane's and the Wayne's, and the Jay's and the Dre's\nAnd the Ye's, and the Drake's and the J Dilla's, Jada's, Cool J's\nAnd the Ra's and amazin' as Nas is, and praise to the Gods of this\nShout to the golden age of Hip-Hop and the name of this song is\nEPMD, we back in business\nI visualize what it is, not what it isn't\nWe at the mafia table next to the kitchen\nEatin' Michelin Stars, countin' a million"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsThe Don Lyrics\nHe's the heartbeat of the people\nThe ghetto people, and when I say ghetto people\nThe people who cannot afford to go to big concert\nSome of these people do not even have TV, so they can't afford cable\nSome of them can afford a radio\nSo the only thing they can listen to is the music\nPeople the ghetto, people from the projects, street people\nHortical ghetto youth who know what it is to sing about suffering and reality\n\nNew York girl, dem a mad over we\nNew York girl, dem a mad over we\nNew York girl, dem a mad over we\nNew York girl, dem a mad over we\n\nNas di don Nas di don Nas di don Nas di don\nNas di don Nas di don Nas di don, dance\nInna New York City-city, New York City-city (YEAH!)\n(YEAH!) New York City-city, New York City-city\n\nSmoking a escubano, guzzle my second bottle\nHope I don't catch a homo, grossing our net\nSimultaneously making me climb higher\nHeinous crimes behind me, search but can't find me\nFuck sadness, had this been you having this lavish\nHabitual happiness, at me you wouldn\u2019t look backwards\nYou would have sex on condominium roof decks\nSo anyone move next, I'll hit you with two TECs\nRocking Roberto Cavalli, no shirt on, convertible Mazi\nMy Colombiana mommy riding beside me\nEvery tat mean something, that\u2019s my word on my body\nI\u2019ll have to lean something with that Mossberg shotty\nMy niggas is ignant, put lead in your pigment\nJust 'cause y'all was mad at all the years I was getting it\nIn '97 the six, '98 the Bentley\nNow it\u2019s the Ghost Phantom, and y'all can't stand him but\nYou might also like\nNas di don Nas di don Nas di don Nas di don\nNas di don Nas di don Nas di don, dance\nInna New York City-city, New York City-city\nNew York City-city, New York City-city (yeah)\n\nArmy jacket swag, army jacket green and black\nWith the square top pocket that snaps, where the gas at?\nPass that, not you, you hold cracks in your ass crack\nI never did that, my sock's where my stash was at\nYo, I used to listen to that Red Alert and Rap Attack\nI fell in love with all that poetry I mastered that\nCutting school where Preme team and Fat Cat was at\nFuture not crystal clear yet, Baccarat\nNow I'm the one who repping Queens\nWay beyond your wildest dreams\nBottles on bottles with sparklers surround my team\nThat long cash get the baddest bitches out they jeans\nTwenty years in this game, looking seventeen\nI don't lean: no codeine, promethazine\nI just blow green, pick which bitch to bless the king\nAlthough he\u2019s on to another chapter\nHeavy D gave this beat to Salaam for me to rap to, raaaahhh\n\nNas di don Nas di don Nas di don Nas di don\nNas di don Nas di don Nas di don, dance\nInna New York City-city, New York City-city\nNew York City-city, New York City-city\nYeah, yeah\nNew York is like an Island, a big Rikers Island\nThe cops be out wilding, all I hear is sirens\nIt's all about surviving, same old two-step\nTry to stay alive when they be out robbing\nI been out rhyming since born knowledge\nLike prophet Muhammad said the ink from a scholar\nWorth more than the blood of a martyr, so I'ma\nKeep it on 'til I see a billion dollars\nKeep your friends close and your enemies closer\nLove model chocha, mami pop it like she 'pose to\nEyes red shot like I'm never sober\nBig time smoker, Indonesian doja\nMini me's you can hold up\nBefore you end up wet up from my soldier\nDon shit, under fire I remain on some calm shit\nThis for every ghetto in the hood\nNas the Don, Super Cat the Don Dada, understood\n\nNas di don Nas di don Nas di don Nas di don\nNas di don Nas di don Nas di don, dance\nInna New York City-city, New York City-city\nNew York City-city, New York City-city, New York..."}
{"text":"You'll live, and you'll learn\nSee 'cause you've never been the same as anyone else\nDon't think the same as everyone else\nYou'll love, and you'll learn\nSee you'll never conclude with anyone else\nDon't think the same as everyone else\n\nIf I had everything, everything\nI could change anything\nIf I changed anything, I mean anything\nI would change everything, oh yeah\n\nDark boy, don't you cry\nThere's too much life left in those eyes\nDon't you let that face go waterfall\nDon't you learn to love your scars and all?\nDark boy, don't you die\nThey're just human, let them lie\nYou just know your world and speak your truth\nLet them come to you\nFor you'll love, in your heart\nSee 'cause you've never been the same as anyone else\nDon't think the same as everyone else\nThis is your call, there are no wrongs\nSee you'll never conclude with anyone else\nDon't think the same as everyone else\nYou might also like\nIf I had everything, everything\nI could change anything, I could change anything\nIf I changed anything, I mean anything\nI would change everything, oh yeah\n\nWhen the media slings mud, we use it to build huts\nIrrefutable facts, merciful, beautiful black beloved brother\nYou fail to embarrass him, harassin' him\nTo my life, your life pales in comparison\nSo go write whatever blog, messiness is not ever the God\nDo what's necessary, I'm never worried\nListen vultures, I've been shackled by Western culture\nYou convinced most of my people to live off emotion\nThat's why we competin', death by the chrome barrel\nForgot the secrets, my Kilimanjaro bone marrow's the deepest\nYou can peep at the comments, but don't fall for that\nWe want freedom, I'm a scholar; an almanac\nPeople do anything to be involved in everything\nInclusion is a hell of a drug\nSome people have everything they probably ever wanted in life\nAnd never have enough\n\nIf I had everything, everything\nI could change anything\nIf I changed anything, I mean anything\nI would change everything, oh yeah\nFrom the birth of a child, the world is foul\nExcursions of a searchin' child\nShould learn to take nothin' personal\nA parent hates to watch his baby's face\nTakin' his first immunization shots, but this is great\nThe child's introduction to suffering and pain\nUnderstands without words, nothin' is explained\nOr rushed to the brain, lookin' up at his parents' face\nLike, \"I thought you would protect me from this scary place?\"\n\"Why'd you let them inject me?\"\n\"Who's gonna know how these side effects is gonna affect me?\"\nWho knew I would grow to meet presidents that respect me?\nIf Starbucks is bought by Nestl\u00e9, please don't arrest me\nI need to use your restroom and I ain't buy no espresso\nSoon enough, assume the cuffs, the position\nNot new to us, since back on the bus sittin'\nSaid, \"Screw that bus!\" \u2013 boycotted that bus outta business\nThe future's us, yet every citizen's in prison\n\nIf I had everything, everything\nI could change anything\nIf I changed anything, I mean anything\nI would change everything, oh yeah\nWatch me as I walk through the folly, golly, New York to Saudi\nIn Italy, I'm Eduardo Baccari\nBut Nasty the hustler, nasty like mustard gas, sulfur\nAnd I could sell Alaska to Russia, no pressure\nMy first house, 11,000-square-feet mansion\nIt was a haunted by dead rich whites\nMad a nigga bought his crib to hang up pictures of black Christ\nCircular driveways, black cars and black ice\nMy second house, still in my twenties, illin' with money\nChilled through my spine, spillin' wine, it's funny\nDid good for a staircase loiterer, euphoria\nWhat you saw when you seen a teen turn to a warrior\nDid every Fourth of July, bustin' in the sky\nIt was important to a guy who was mob-minded\nFuture Murci\u00e9lago driver 'til Lambos got average on me\nI started likin' the look like I ain't had no money\nYellow taxi seats over Maybach seats\nJust to remind me, just to inspire me\nTo stay focused, it's a real sick society\nJust 'cause I got your support don't mean you're buyin' me\nI'm buyin' back the land owned by the slave masters\nWhere my ancestors lived, just to say a rapper\nMade a change, the pants-sagger put plans in action\nTo lay claim the Pan-African made it happen\n\nYou'll live, and you'll learn\nSee 'cause you've never been the same anyone else\nDon't think the same as everyone else\nYou'll live, and you'll learn\nSee you'll never conclude with anyone else\nDon't think the same as everyone else\n\nIf I had everything, everything\nI could change anything\nIf I changed anything, I mean anything\nI would change everything, oh yeah\n\nDark boy, don't you cry\nThere's too much life left in those eyes\nDon't you let that face go waterfall\nDon't you learn to love your scars and all\nDark boy, don't you die\nThey're just human, let them lie\nYou just know your world and speak your truth\nAnd let them come to you\nFor you'll love, in your heart\nSee 'cause you've never been the same as anyone else\nDon't think the same as everyone else\nThis is your call, there are no wrongs\nSee you'll never conclude with anyone else\nDon't think the same as everyone else"}
{"text":"\nYeah, it's Illmatic (Yeah)\nUh, it's Illmatic (Yeah)\nIt's Illmatic (Haha, haha, check it, uh)\n\nOne time for your mind, one time (Yeah, whatever)\nOne time for your mind, one time (Yo, whatever)\nOne time for your mind, one time\nAyo, Nas (What up, pah?) kick that fuckin' rhyme (Check it out!)\n\nWhen I'm chillin', I grab the buddha, get my crew to buy beers\nAnd watch a flick, illin' and rootin' for the villain, huh\nPlus every morning, I go out and love it sort of chilly\nThen I send a shorty from my block to the store for Phillies\nAfter bein' blessed by the herb's essence\nI'm back to my rest, ten minutes, some odd seconds\nThat's where I got the honey at, spends the night for sexin'\nKeep lubrication, Lifestyle protection\nPickin' up my stereo's remote control quickly\nRon G's in the cassette deck \u2014 rockin' the shit, G\nI try to stay mellow, rock, well, a cappella rhymes'll\nMake me richer than a slipper made Cinderella, fella\nGo get your crew, hops, I'm prepared to bomb troops\nY'all niggas was born, I shot my way out my mom dukes\nWhen I was ten, I was a hip-hoppin' shorty wop\nKnown for rockin' microphones and twistin' off a 40 top, yeah\nYou might also like\nOne time for your mind, one time (Yeah, whatever)\nOne time 4 your mind, one time (It sound clever)\nAyo, Nas, fuck that, man, that shit was phat\nBut kick that for them gangstas, man, fuck all that! (Right, right)\n\nWhat up, niggas? How y'all? It's Nasty, the villain\nI'm still writin' rhymes, but besides that, I'm chillin'\nI'm tryin' to get this money, God \u2014 you know the hard times, kid\nShit, cold, be starvin' make you wanna do crimes, kid\nBut I'ma lamp \u2018cause a crime couldn't beat a rhyme\nNiggas catchin' 3-to-9's, Muslims yellin' \"Free the mind!\"\nAnd I'm from Queensbridge, been to many places\nAs a kid, when I would say that outta town, niggas chased us\nBut now I know the time, got a older mind, plus control a 9\nFine, see, now I represent mine\nI'm new on the rap scene, brothers never heard of me\nYet I'm a menace, yo, police wanna murder me\nHeini Dark drinker, represent the thinker\nMy pen rides the paper, it even has blinkers\nThink I'll dim the lights, then inhale, it stimulates\nFloatin' like I'm on the North 95 Interstate\nNever plan to stop, when I write, my hand is hot\nAnd expand the lot from the Wiz to Camelot\nThe parlayer, I'll make your heads bop, pah\nI shine a light on perpetrators like a cop's car\nFrom day to night, I play the mic and you'll thank God\nI wreck shit so much, the microphone'll need a paint job\nMy brain is incarcerated\nLive at any jam, I couldn't count all the parks I've raided\nI hold a MAC-11, and attack a reverend\nI contact eleven L's and max in heaven\nOne time for your mind, one time (It sounds clever)\nOne time for your mind, one time (Yeah, whatever)\nOne time for your mind, one time\nYo, from '92 to '99\n\nYeah, that shit was crazy phat, pah, know what I\u2019m sayin'?\nBut check it, you got another verse for me\nI want you to kick it, you know what I'm sayin'?\nKick that shit for the projects, know what I'm sayin'?"}
{"text":"\nBravehearts, Bravehearts, Bravehearts\u2026\nNow let's get it all in perspective\nFor all y'all enjoyment, a song y'all can step with\nY'all appointed me to bring rap justice\nBut I ain't Five-O, y'all know it's Nas, yo\nGrey Goose and a whole lot of hydro\nOnly describe us as soldier survivors\nStay laced in the best, well-dressed\nWith finesse in a white tee, lookin' for wifey\nThug girl who fly and talks so nicely\nPut her in the coupe so she can feel the nice breeze\nWe can drive through the city, no doubt\nBut don't say my car's topless, say the titties is out\nNewness, here's the anthem\nPut your hand up that you shoot with, count your loot with\nPush the pool stick in your new crib\nSame hand that you hoop with, swing around like you stupid\nKing of the town? Yeah, I been that\nYou know I click-clack \u2014 where you and your mens at?\nDo the Smurf, do the Wop, Baseball Bat\nRooftop like we bringin' '88 back\nYou might also like\nThey shootin'! Aw, made you look\nYou a slave to a page in my rhyme book\nGettin' big money, playboy, your time's up\nWhere them gangstas? Where them dimes at?\nThey shootin'! Aw, made you look\nYou a slave to a page in my rhyme book\nGettin' big money, playboy, your time's up\nWhere them gangstas at? Where them dimes at?\n\nThis ain't rappin', this is Street Hop\nNow get up off yo' ass like your seat's hot\nMy live niggas lit up the reefer\nTrunk of the car, we got the streetsweeper\nDon't start none, won't be none\nNo reason for your mans to panic\nYou don't wanna see no ambulances\nKnock a pimp's drink down in his pimp cup\nThat's the way you get Timberland'd up\nLet the music defuse all the tension\nBaller convention, free admission\nHustlers, dealers and killers can move swift\nGirls get close, you can feel where the tool's kept\nAll my just-comin' homies, parolees\nGet money, leave the beef alone slowly\nGet out my face, you people so phony\nPull out my waist, the Eagle four-forty\nThey shootin'! Aw, made you look\nYou a slave to a page in my rhyme book\nGettin' big money, playboy, your time's up\nWhere them gangstas? Where them dimes at?\nThey shootin'! Aw, made you look\nYou a slave to a page in my rhyme book\nGettin' big money, playboy, your time's up\nWhere them gangstas at? Where them dimes at?\n\nI see niggas runnin', yo, my mood is real rude\nI lay you out, show you what steel do\nMobsters don't box, my pump shot obliges\nEvery invitation to fight ya punk azzes,,\nLike Pun said \"you ain't even in mi clasa\"\nMaybach Benz, back seat, TV plasma\nLadies lookin' for athletes or rappers\nWhatever you choose, whatever you do\nMake sure he a thug and intelligent too\nLike a real thoroughbred is\nShow me love, let me feel how the head is\nFemales who's the sexiest is always the nastiest\n\nAnd I like a little sassiness\nA lot of class; Mami, reach in your bag, pass the fifth\nI'm a leader at last, this a don you with\nMy 9's will spit, niggas lose consciousness"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olEnglishThe Genesis Lyrics\n\nStreet's disciple, my raps are trifle\nI shoot slugs from my brain just like a rifle\nStampede the stage, I leave the microphone split\nPlay Mr. Tuffy while I'm on some Pretty Tone shit\nVerbal assassin, my architect pleases\nWhen I was 12, I went to\u2026\nAnd you're sitting at home doing this shit\nI should be earning a medal for this\nStop fuckin' around and be a man\nThere ain't nothin' out here for you\n\nOh yes, there is\u2026 This\n\nYo, Nas, yo, what the fuck is this bullshit on the radio, son?\nYou might also like\nChill, chill! That's the shit, God, chill\n\nAyo, yo, pull down the shade, man\nLet's count this money, nigga\nAyo, Nas, put the Jacksons and the Grants over there!\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\n\u2018Cause we spendin' the Jacksons\nYou know how we get down, baby\n\nTrue, true\n\nNas, yo, Nas, man\nShit is mad real right now in the projects\nFor a nigga, yo, word to mother\nAll them crab-ass rappers be comin' up to me\nMan, word to mother, man\nI think we need to let them niggas know it's real, man\n\nTrue indeed, knamsayin'?\nBut when it's real you doin' this\nEven without a record contract, knamsayin'?\nNo question\n\nBeen doing this since back then\n\nI'm sayin' regardless how it go down we gon' keep it real\nWe tryin' to see many mansions and Coupes, kid\n\nNo doubt, we gon' keep it real, true, true\n\nAyo, where's Grand Wizard and Mayo at, man?\nTakin' niggas a long time, man\n\nWho got the Phillies? Take this Hennessy\n\nAyo, dunn\nC'mon, c'mon, man, stop wavin' that, man!\nStop pointin' that at me, dunn, take the clip out!\n\nNigga, alright, but take this Hennessy, man!\nI'm sayin' take the clip, man, c'mon, take it out!\n\nLight them Phillies up, man!\nNiggas stop fuckin' burnin' Phillies, man\nLight some Phillies up then!\n\nPass that henrock, pass that henrock!\nNigga, act like you know!\n\nYo, we drinkin' this straight up with no chaser\nI ain't fuckin' with you, nigga\n\nI'm saying though, man\n\nWhat is it, what is it, baby?\n\nWhat is it, son, what is it?\n\nYou know what time it is\n\nI'm saying, man, you know what I'm saying?\nNiggas don't listen, man\nRepresentin', it's Illmatic"}
{"text":"The ghetto Othello, the Moor\nOh my God, they speak venomous on the boy\nOh my Lord, my enemy is fear, and I'm sure\nOh my God, they want the end of me 'cause I'm pure\nOh my Lord, discipline for the win, I just go for it\nIt's a trend for these men to die on their own sword\nJourney far, learn who you can be\nBut you can learn who you are when you around family\nChip off the shoulders of soldiers, on they grizzle\nMy granddaddy Mack Little married Nannie Little\nThey passed down wisdom, blessings were given\nPray my sins don't get passed to my children\nI made a killin', I'm alive like the morning star\nCourt Jordan's for the price on stock, so what the Hornets are?\nI need evaluations, I'm savvy, y'all\nEatin' foie gras and caviar, listen\n\nAdam and Eve\nDon't fall too far from the apple tree, ayy\nAdam and Eve, Adam and Eve\nDon't fall too far from the apple tree, apple tree\n\nThe ghosts of gangsters dance\nChinchillas shake on the hanger, the force of this banger\nYeah, my language advanced, my cadence amazin'\nThe voice triggers somethin', what is this conundrum?\nThe clouds scurry, your spirit rumble, a boyish smile\nStill puff the loud, it's nothin' less than a quarter pound\nSavage narrative, every verse that I write bursts light\nBrings awareness to my personal life\nAfter my morning walk, Havana cigar, the ganja spark\nSee my doctor more, sweat in the sauna or the spa\nSpendin' fifty large at the Bellagio\nSpent twenty on a bad bitch I hardly know\nNew girl every night, two girls was every other night\nSexual addiction, gangster tradition\nThey wanna fuck me, have me under they belt, slightly offended\nYeah, that's how I felt, that's how it ended\nI'm just good at existin', existin' in my truth\nAs long as I enjoy the fruit, yeah\nYou might also like\nAdam and Eve\nDon't fall too far from the apple tree, ayy\nAdam and Eve, Adam and Eve\nDon't fall too far from the apple tree, apple tree\n\nWhat come first, peace or the paper?\nBefore I had a piece of paper, peace was in my favor\nBefore I sat to eat at the table, it had leeches and traitors\nCut the fat from the meat, extract the weak, bon appetit\nNo bacon, brothers is swine\nIt's so hard to trust 'em 'cause my hustle is mine\nIt's evident they all the same, with gray hair and still mean muggin'\nGray hairs of wisdom, that means you seen somethin'\nSay somethin', you stay frontin'\nBut these clowns got false crowns, fictitional kings\nYou broke my heart, Fredo\nYou bring this thing of ours down to a fable\nBe advised my guys dyin', enterprisin' at a boss's table\nThere's always room at my table\nInsecurities is keepin' you disabled\nAll this money to get, is there less time?\nThey ain't stopped printin' money, 'cause they made mine\nI learned to stretch time, these are the best times\nI'm in my neighborhood in stadiums, the Mets' kind\nWith restaurants and Carbone, spicy rigatoni\nGo hard, a red Bordeaux, oh God\nAdam and Eve\nDon't fall too far from the apple tree, ayy\nAdam and Eve, Adam and Eve\nDon't fall too far from the apple tree, apple tree"}
{"text":"I made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\n\nYo, I never brag how real I keep it, 'cause it's the best secret\nI rock a vest prestigious, Cuban link flooded Jesus\nIn a Lex, watchin' Kathie Lee & Regis\nMy actions are one with the seasons\nA TEC squeezin' executioner, winter time, I rock a fur\nMega popular center of attraction\nClimaxin', my bitches, they be laughin'\nThey high from sniffin' coke off a twenty-cent Andrew Jackson\nCity lights spark a New York night\nRossi and Martini sippin', Sergio Tacchini\nFlippin' mad pies, low price, I blow dice and throw them\n.45 by my scrotum, manifest the 'Do or Die' slogan\nMy niggas roll in ten M3's\nTwenty gods poppin' wheelies on Kawasakis\nHip-hop's got me on some ol', sprayin' shots like a drum roll\nBlankin' out, never miscount the shells my gun hold\nI don't stunt, I regulate\nHenny and Sprite, I separate, watchin' crab niggas marinate\nI'm all about TEC's, a good jux and sex\nIsraelite books, holdin' government names from Ness\nMC's are crawlin' out every hole in the slum\nYou be aight like blood money in a pimp's cum\nYou might also like\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nFor you wack MC's\n\nCurrency is made in the trust of the Messiah\nI'm spendin' it to get higher\nEarth, Wind and Fire singin' Reasons why I'm\nUp early, trustworthy as a nine that bust early\nSunshine on my grill, I spill\nRemy on imaginary graves, put my hat on my waves\nLatter Day Saints say religious praise\nI, dolo, challenge any team or solo\nYou must be buggin' out \u2014 new to my shit, home on a furlough\nAsk around who's laid up, sharp and straight up\nMafioso, gettin' niggas' wakes sprayed up\nSkies are misty, my life predicted by a gypsy\nI'll one day walk into shots, drunk off champagne from Sicily\nThis be the drama, I'ma pause like a comma in a sentence\nParagraphs indented\nBloodshot red eyes, high, yellow envelopes of lye\nOpenin' cigars, let tobacco fly\nCondos are tune-proof, we're lookin' out the sky's moonroof\nShittin' like gin and prune juice\nYo, the system wants the coon's noose \u2014 hang 'em high\nCourtrooms filled up, it's off the hook while I\nJust wrote a statement like I'm facin' twenty years in the basement\nChillin' on a VI with Mumia for wearin' chrome\nI told the judge snakes slither like Sharon Stone\nBut like Capone, I'm thrown, yo\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nFor you wack MC's\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that (Lyrical, ly-lyrical shine)\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nFor you wack MC's\n\nYo, the time is wastin', I use the mind elevation\nDime sack lacin', court pen pacin'\nIndividual, lyrical math abrasion\nPsychic evaluation, the foulest nation we livin' in\nDangerous lives, mad leak and battered wives\nA lifestyle on bad streets is patternized\nWise men build and destroy\nWhile the real McCoy dope fiend named Detroit is still dealin' boy\nCoke suppliers actin' biased\n'Cause rumors say that niggas wear wires and we liars\nBut every night the gat's fired, and every day a rat's hired\nI still remain the mack flyest in the phat Kani, it's\nJust the killer in me, slash drug dealer, MC\nEx-slug filler, semi mug peeler, demi\nBottles of Mo', yo, simply follow me flow\nPut poetry inside a crack pot and blow\nRough hoes pull crack out pussies and butt-holes\nBring the G's and the D's roll, they can't touch those\nWhy shoot the breeze about it, when you could be about it?\nMy degrees are routed toward the peasy-haired brick housing\nAnd studded-up, thick medallions\nRich niggas transportin' thousands\nForeign cash exchange amountin' to millions\nDoors is locked, rocks is chopped, watch the cameras in the ceilings\nTrick bitches catchin' mad feelings\nPeelin' off in a Lex Jeep, techniques is four-wheelin'\nI bet it be some shit when we connect with Stretch\nWhen we catch them sex niggas with the TEC's you blessed, word!\nSo now it's on, never wasted a slug\nTime is money, when it comes to mine, take it in blood\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nFor you wack MC's\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nI made it like that, I bought it like that, I'm livin' like that\nFor you wack MC's\n\nYeah, Capone-N-Noreaga\nYeah, yo, official Queensbridge murderers\nMobb Deep keep it real, though\nMotherfuckin' AZ, yo\n'Mega, 'Mega, whatever\nScarlett O'Hara, Fox Boogie\nEast New York\nYambo, Brownsville\nWizard, Far Rockaway\nBig Bo, Jersey\nConnecticut, DC, Sudan\nVA, NC, LA\nSo on and so on\nBig Ha, Houston Fifth Ward\nBlack Ed, keep it real, Moe"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsBye Baby Lyrics\n\nI guess you just knew and blew a good thing, baby\n\nBye baby, I guess you knew why I walked away\nWhen we walked to the altar, that was an awesome day\nDid counselling, couldn't force me to stay\nSomething happened when you say I do, we go astray\nWhy did we mess it up? We was friends, we had it all\nReason you don't trust men, that was your daddy fault\nHe in the grave \u2013 let it go, he no longer living\nSaid you caught him cheating with mom, fucking other women\nFuck that gotta do with us? Here's the keys to the newest truck\nBirkin bags, we burning cash, now baby, do it up\nNo matter who you fuck, that was before me\nWanted you as my shorty since I saw you screaming\n\"Hate you so much right now\"\nShould've saw the meaning, angry black women\nActions of a demon, I'm leaving\n\nI guess you just knew and blew a good thing, baby (Bye baby)\nYou know I'm saying bye-bye (Bye-bye baby)\n'Cause I'm saying bye-bye (Bye baby)\n'Cause I'm saying bye-bye\nI guess you just knew and blew a good thing, baby\nYou might also like\nBye baby, I guess you know why I had to leave\nSeven months in your pregnancy, 'bout to have my seed\nLet's take it back some years, rewind it to the happy years\nYou and your Star Trak fam, I'm thinking you cats are weird\nSame time, different year, I was digging y'all flow\nThen I tatted you on my arm so niggas would know\nI thought no one could stop us, matching gold watches\nI was your Johnny Depp, you was my Janis Joplin\nYet, the cuter version, yet, I knew you personally\nBetter than you knew yourself, and I knew this for certain\nCrib in the Dominican, we got away from everybody\nYou screaming at the racist cops in Miami was probably\nThe highlight of my life, like \"Ha, yo, look at my wife!\"\nGangsta, me and 20 cops 'bout to fight, crazy night\nBailed you out, next morning we got clean\nLike it never happened, then later we at that Heat game\nJust another day in the life, of two people in love\nBut it wasn't enough, so baby guess what...\n\nI guess you just knew and blew a good thing, baby (Bye baby)\nOH! OH! AHHHHHHHH! Bye-bye (Bye-bye baby)\nI can't believe that this is happening to us\n'Cause I'm saying bye-bye (Bye baby) Forever\n'Cause I'm saying bye-bye\nI guess you just knew and blew a good thing, baby\nListen, could you imagine writing your deposition?\nDivorce lawyer telling you how this thing gonna be ending?\nWith you paying out the ass and I'm talking half\nNot some, but half, no, serious, half\nHalf of your soul, half of your heart, you leaving behind\nIt\u2019s either that or die, I wanted peace of mind\nAnd all I seen was suckers, cowards\nUnder their breath, saying, \"Why did Nas trust her?\"\nBut look at yourself! Speak louder, bruh!\nYou live with your baby moms\nAnd scared to make an honest woman out of her\nAnd make her your bride, fake pimps, you ain't even a lie\nAt least I can say I tried, plus enjoyed the ride\nPlus we got our little boy, my little joy and pride\nHe got my nose, my grill, your color, your eyes\nNext go round I hope I pick the truest type\nAnd watch me do it all again, it\u2019s a beautiful life, aight?\nGoodbye!\n\n(Bye baby) Baby.. baby\nYou know I'm saying bye-bye (Bye-bye baby)\nI can't believe that this is happening to us\n'Cause I'm saying bye-bye (Bye baby)\nI guess you just knew and blew a good thing\nYou know I'm saying bye-bye\nI guess you just knew and blew a good thing, baby\nGimme the key back, baby\nI want your love back, baby, oh\nGimme the key back, baby, oh\n'Til we make love just one more time\nMake it seem forever\nThis is our last and final goodbye\nGoodbye"}
{"text":"Damn, look how muh'fuckers use a nigga\nJust use me for whatever the fuck they want\nI don't get to say shit\nJust grab me, just do what the fuck they want\nSell me, throw me away\nNiggas just don't give a fuck about a nigga like me, right\nLike I'm a f-, I'm a gun, shit\nIt's like I'm a motherfucking gun, I can't believe this shit\nWord up, word up\nI seen some cold nights and bloody days\nThey grab me, bullets spray\nThey use me wrong, so I sing this song to this day\nMy body is cold steel, for real\nI was made to kill, that's why they keep me concealed\nUnder car seats, they sneak me in clubs\nBeen in the hands of mad thugs\nThey feed me when they load me with mad slugs\nSeventeen precisely, one in my head\nThey call me Desert Eagle, semi-auto with lead\nI'm seven inches, four pounds, been through so many towns\nOhio to Little Rock to Canarsie, living harshly\nBeat up and battered\nThey pull me out, I watch as niggas scattered\nMaking me kill, but what I feel, it never mattered\nWhen I'm empty, I'm quiet, finding myself fiending to be fired\nA broken safety, niggas place me in shelves, under beds\nSo I beg for my next owner to be a thoroughbred\nKeeping me full up with hollow heads\nYou might also like\nHow you like me now? I go blaow\nIt's that shit that moves crowds, making every ghetto foul\nI might've took your first child\nScarred your life or crippled your style\nI gave you power, I made you buck-wild\nHow you like me now? I go blaow\nIt's that shit that moves crowds, making every ghetto foul\nI might've took your first child\nScarred your life or crippled your style\nI gave you power, I made you buck-wild\nAlways, I'm in some shit!\nMy abdomen is the clip, the barrel's my dick\nUncircumcised, pull my skin back and cock me\nI bust off when they unlock me\nResults of what happens to niggas shock me\nI see niggas bleeding, running from me in fear\nStunningly, tears fall down the eyes of these so-called tough guys\nFor years, I've been used in robberies\nGiving niggas heart to follow me\nPlacing peoples in graves, funerals made 'cause I was sprayed\nI was laid in a shelf with a grenade\nMet a wrecked-up TEC with numbers on his chest that say:\nFive-two-oh-nine-three-eight-five-and-zero\nHad a serial defaced, hoping one day police would place\nWhere he came from, a name or some sort of person to claim him\nTired of murdering, made him wanna be a plain gun\nBut yo, I had some other plans, like the next time the beef is on\nI make myself jam right in my owner's hand\nHow you like me now? I go blaow\nIt's that shit that moves crowds, making every ghetto foul\nI might've took your first child\nScarred your life or crippled your style\nI gave you power, I made you buck-wild\nHow you like me now? I go blaow\nIt's that shit that moves crowds, making every ghetto foul\nI might've took your first child\nScarred your life or crippled your style\nI gave you power, I made you buck-wild\nYo, weeks went by and I'm surprised\nStill stuck in the shelf with all the things that an outlaw hides\nBesides me, it's bullets, two vests and then a 9\nThere's a grenade in a box, and that TEC that kept crying\n'Cause he ain't been cleaned in a year, he's rusty, it's clear\nHe's 'bout to fall to pieces 'cause of his murder career\nYo, I can hear somebody coming in\nOpen the shelf, his eyes bubbling\nHe said it was on, I felt his palm troubled him\nShaking, somebody stomped him out, his dome was aching\nHe placed me on his waist, the moment I've been waiting\nMy creation was for Blacks to kill Blacks\nIt's gats like me that accidentally go off, making niggas memories\nBut this time, it's done intentionally\nHe walked me outside, saw this cat\nCocked me back, said, \"Remember me?\"\nHe pulled the trigger, but I held on, it felt wrong\nKnowing niggas is waiting in Hell for him\nHe squeezed harder, I didn't budge, sick of the blood\nSick of them thugs, sick of wrath of the next man's grudge\nWhat the other kid did was pull out, no doubt\nA newer me in better shape, before he lit out, he lead the chase\nMy owner fell to the floor, his wig split\nSo fast, I didn't know he was hit, it's over wit'!\nHeard mad niggas screaming, niggas running, cops is coming\nNow I'm happy, until I felt somebody else grab me\nDamn!"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsGet Down Lyrics\nGet, get, get down!\n\nUh.. uh.. uh..\nNew York streets where killers'll walk like Pistol Pete\nAnd Pappy Mason, gave the young boys admiration\nPrince from Queens and Fritz from Harlem\nStreet legends, the drugs kept the hood from starvin'\nPushin' cars, Nicky Barnes was the '70s\nBut there's a long list of high-profile celebrities\nWorldwide on the thorough side of things\nLivest kings, some died, one guy, one time\nOne day grabs me, as I'm about to blast heat\n40-side of Vernon, I turned while he asked me\n\"What you up to? The cops gon' bust you.\"\nI was a teen drunk off brew\nStumbled I wondered if God sent him\n'Cause two squad cars entered the block\nAnd looked at us; I ain't flinch when they watched\nI took it upstairs, the bathroom mirror, brushed my hair\nStarin' at a young disciple\nI almost gave my life to what the dice do\nYeah man, throwin' them bones\nHopin' my ace get his case thrown\nHis girl ain't wait for him, she in the world straight hoein'\nWhile he lookin' at centerfolds of pretty girls showin'\nThey little cooch; gangstas don't die, he's living proof\nThe D.A. who tried him was lyin'\nA white dude, killed his mother during the case\nHung jury, now the D.A. is being replaced\nPre-trial hearing is over, it's real for the soldier\nWalks in the courtroom, the look in his eyes is wild\nTriple-homicide, I sit in the back aisle\nI wanna crack a smile when I see him\nThrow up a fist for Black Power, 'cause all we want is his freedom\nHe grabbed a court officer's gun and started squeezin'\nThen he grabbed the judge, screams out, \"Nobody leavin'\nEverybody\u2014\"\nYou might also like\nGet down, get down! Get down, get down!\nGet, get, get, get, get, get, get down!\nEverybody\nGet down, get down! Get down, get down!\nGet, get, get, get, get, get, get down!\n\nSome niggas fuck their enemies in their ass when they catch 'em\nWeird-ass niggas who dangerous so don't test 'em\nThey make you disappear, this a year that I won't forget\nSold CD's double platinum, met mo' execs\nSouthern niggas, independent label, real killers\nKnow the business, ran Tennessee for years, now they chillin'\nThey had the coke game somethin' crazy\nSold music out the trunk of their car, that shit amazed me\nPut me onto her-on blunts, sherm or somethin'\nTook a puff, what the fuck? I turned to punch them\nSouthern niggas ain't slow, nigga tried to play me\nI left from around them dudes, they cool but they crazy\nNow I'm back around the old school that raised me\nNew York gangsters, we loungin', out in L.A. see\nA dude wrote my dog from Pelican Bay\nThe letter say, \"Nas, I got your back, the fools don't play.\"\nI rolled with some Crips down to a Crenshaw funeral\nNever saw so many men slaughtered and I knew the ho\nResponsible; the nigga still alive in a hospital\nMidnight they crept in his room and shot the doctor too\nSee, my cousin's in the game, thuggin' and thangs\nHe plugged me with a dame who was half-Mexicano\nGave the ass up, I'm a mack daddy Soprano\nShe passed me the indigo, but the imbecile\nShoulda never tippy-toed, thought my eyes were closed\nOpenin' the hotel room door to let her goons in\nBut I moved in a manner on some Jet Li shit\nI let the hammers blow, wet three kids\nSee honey thought I had somethin' to do with all the drama\n'Cause I was with a crew that had her people killed\nCalled up my cousin, told him I ain't fuckin' with you\nHe responded \"cool,\" but told me out here this how motherfuckers\u2014\nGet down, get down! Get down, get down!\nGet, get, get, get, get, get, get down!\nEverybody\nGet down, get down! Get down, get down!\nGet, get, get, get, get, get, get down!\n\nAll I really gotta say is that\nIf that's how our people gon' get down, how we ever gon' get up?\nHow we ever gon' get up if that's how we get down?\nA shame when you really look at it\nMy folk against your folk, but we all kinfolk\nSomebody got to make a change"}
{"text":"Escobar season begins\nAyo, we ain't posin' for no pictures in 2018\nCandid shit only\nScared motherfuckers\n\nBlack Kemet gods (Yeah), black Egyptian gods (Let's go)\nSummoned from heaven, blessed, dressed in only Goyard\nHomie go hard like Stone and Robert in a stolen car\nShoot the ballot box, no voter card, they all are frauds\nSenegal's finest, minerals, diamonds\nThe Earth is cursed but I survive many climates\nCalm and thoroughly, they try to Hyman Roth me\nJohn Fitzgerald me, the industry never bought me\n(You know God sent me here)\nFear will make you reveal who you really are\nFeel me God? Be solid, your foes hold you in ill regard\nThis ain't knowledge, this is not intense\nFor honored men, women too\nUs who can see the same thing, but have a different view (Let's go)\nAll of a sudden, frontin' niggas knew you from your past\nGot all kinds of guys sayin' we go way back\nAnd who y'all comparin' me to is nonsense\nShow gratitude in the presence of dominance\nYou might also like\nI think they scared of us, yeah\nI think they scared of us\nI think they scared of us, yeah\nI think they scared\nTo Catholics\u2026\n\nTo Catholics, Moors and Masons (Motherfuckers!)\nJohn Hanson was not the first black pres to make it\nAbe Lincoln did not free the enslaved\nProgress was made 'cause we forced the proclamation\n(Fuck your proclamation!)\nSWAT was created to stop the Panthers\nGlocks were created for murder enhancement\nFor hunting men, circumstances\nEdgar Hoover was black\nWillie Lynch is a myth, Colombians created crack\nThe government made stacks (Welcome to America, niggas!)\nReagan had Alzheimer's, that's true\nFox News was started by a black dude, also true (Fuck you too!)\nConvinced my experiences were meant to be\nHelps me navigate as they validate they treachery\nFelt established, fake as he smile, handshake questionable\n\"Am I good?\" he ask, thinkin', \"But is he testin' you?\"\n(Is he testin' you?) In my hood, fear does a few things\nMake you pussy, make you a snitch\nMake irrational moves or even turn you to food\nI think they're scared of us, yeah\nI think they're scared of us\nI think they're scared of us, yeah\nI think they scared\nI think they scared of us, yeah\nI think they scared of us\nSee, we don't care about what you think about us\nI think they scared of us, yeah\nWhat you say about us\nI think they scared\nYou bitch ass, yeah\nAyo, that's why they be killing us and shooting us\nThat's why they feel uncomfortable around us\n'Cause of our greatness\nYou're lucky God made us compassionate\nAnd forgiving\nPssh, man, they scared of us, Nas\nWe see that bitch in your eyes"}
{"text":"\nUh, what, what, uh\n\nStreet dreams are made of these\nNiggas push Bimmers and 300 E's\nA drug dealer's destiny is reachin' a key\nEverybody's looking for something\nStreet dreams are made of these\nShorties on they knees for niggas with big cheese\nWho am I to disagree?\nEverybody's looking for something\n\nMy man put me up for the share, one-fourth of a square\nHeaded for Delaware with one change of gear\nNothin' on my mind but the dime sack we blazed\nWith the glaze in my eye, that we find when we crave\nDollars and cents, a fugitive with two attempts\nJakes had no trace of the face, now they drew a print\nThough I'm innocent 'til proven guilty\nI'ma try to get filthy, purchase a club and start up a realty\nFor real, G, I'ma fulfill my dream\nIf I conceal my scheme, then precisely I'll build my cream\nThe first trip without the clique\nSent the bitch with the quarter brick, this is it\nFresh face, NY plates, got a crooked eye for the Jakes\nI want it all, ArmorAll Benz and endless papes\nGod's sake, what a nigga gotta do to make a half a million\nWithout the FBI catching feelings? (What, uh)\nYou might also like\nStreet dreams are made of these\nNiggas push Bimmers and 300 E's\nA drug dealer's destiny is reachin' a key\nEverybody's looking for something\nStreet dreams are made of these\nShorties on they knees for niggas with big cheese\nWho am I to disagree?\nEverybody's looking for something\n\nFrom Fat Cat to Pappy, niggas see the cat\nTwenty-five to flat, push a thousand feet back\nHolding gats wasn't making me fat, snitches on my back\nLiving with Moms, getting it on, flushing crack down the toilet\nTwo sips from bein' alcoholic\nNine-hundred-ninety-nine thou' from bein' rich\nBut now, I'm all for it\nMy man saw it like Dionne Warwick\nA wiser team for a wiser dream we could all score with\nThe cartel, Argentina coke with the nina\nUp in the hotel, smokin' on Sessamina\nTrina got the fishscale between her\nThe way the bitch shook her ass, yo, the dogs never seen her\nShe got me back living sweeter, fresh Caesar\nGuess, David Robinson's, Walle' moccasins\nBitches blow me while I'm hoppin' in the drop-top BM'\nWord is bond (Uh), son (What), I had that bitch down on my shit  (What, uh) like this (Word)\nStreet dreams are made of these\nNiggas push Bimmers and 300 E's\nA drug dealer's destiny is reachin' a key\nEverybody's looking for something\nStreet dreams are made of these\nShorties on they knees, for niggas with big cheese\nWho am I to disagree?\nEverybody's looking for something\n\nGrowing up project-struck, looking for luck, dreaming\nScoping the large niggas beaming, check what I'm seeing\nCars, ghetto stars pushing ill Europeans\nG'ing, heard about them old timers OD'ing\nYoung, early 80's, throwing rocks at the crazy lady\nWorshipping every word them rope-rocking niggas gave me\nThe street raised me up giving a fuck\nI thought Jordans and a gold chain was living it up\nI knew the dopes, the pushers, the addicts, everybody\nCut out of class just to smoke blunts and drink noddy\nAin't that funny? Getting put on to crack money\nWith all the gunplay, painting the kettle black hungry\nA case of beers in the staircase, I wasted years\nSome niggas went for theirs, flipping coke as they career\nBut I'm a rebel, stressing to pull out of the heat, no doubt\nWith Jeeps tinted out, spending, never holding out\n(Uh, what, what, uh)\nStreet dreams are made of these\nNiggas push Bimmers and 300 E's\nA drug dealer's destiny is reaching a key\nEverybody's looking for something\nStreet dreams are made of these\nShorties on they knees, for niggas with big cheese\nWho am I to disagree?\nEverybody's looking for something\nStreet dreams are made of these\nNiggas push Bimmers and 300 E's\nA drug dealer's destiny is reaching a key\nEverybody's looking for something\nStreet dreams are made of these\nShorties on they knees, for niggas with big cheese\nWho am I to disagree?\nEverybody's looking for something\n\n*Gunshot*\n\"Yeah nigga, what?!\"\n\"Oh, shit!\"\n\"Queensbridge, boy, what?! Yo, what?!\"\n\"Yo, they shot dun, dawg!\"\n\"Yo, yo, lets get the hell outta here y'all, I don't give a fuck-\"\n(Ongoing screaming)\n\"Look! We on his back right now\nWe gotta get the hell outta here, yo!\"\n\"I want some more nigga, come on!\"\n\"Yo, come on run, yo!\"\n\"Watch out, man, yo watch out, watch out, nigga!\"\n\"Yo, yo hol' up, hol' up, hol' up!\"\n\"Yo, I twisted that kid, right?\"\n\"Yeah the hell you did, man\"\n\"Yo why you-\"\n\"Yo, yo, come on though\"\n(Oh, shit)\n\"Yo, we gotta got up outta here, yo\"\n\"You think somebody peeped that?\"\n\"Yo, hell yeah, I'm saying, yo, as long as we get rid o-\nGet rid of the heat, yo!\"\n\"Fuck that!\"\n\"Get rid of the heat, yo\"\n*Gunshot*\n\"C'mon, c'mon, I'm through that shit, c'mon\"\n\"We gotta bounce, yo!\"\n\"Let's bounce!\""}
{"text":"88 ContributorsWrote My Way Out Lyrics\n(\"I wrote my way out\")\nWhen the world turned its back on me\nI was up against the wall\nI had no foundation\nNo friends and no family to catch my fall\nRunnin' on empty, th'was nothin' left in me but doubt\nI picked up a pen and \"I wrote my way\u2014\" out\n\nI picked up the pen like Hamilton\nStreet analyst, now I write words that try to channel 'em\nNo political power\u2014just lyrical power\nSittin' on a crate on a corner, sippin' for hours\nSchemin' on a come up, from evening to sun up\nMy man awaitin' trial, misdemeanors we younger\nCourtroom prejudice, insufficient evidence\nJailhouse lawyers, these images still relevant\nFlickerin' lights inside my project hall\nSickenin', the mice crawl all night long\nAnd '87 Reaganism, many pages I've written on\nWritin' songs about rights and wrongs and bails bonds\nMaster bedroom, bigger than the crib that I was raised at\nI'm the architect like I wrote the code to Waze app\nI'm driven, black Elohim from the streets of Queens\nThe definition of what It Was Written means\nKnow what I mean?\nYou might also like\n(\"I wrote my way out\")\nWhen the world turned its back on me\nI was up against the wall\nI had no foundation\nNo friends and no family to catch my fall\nRunnin' on empty, there was nothin' left in me but doubt\nI picked up a pen and \"I wrote my way\u2014\" out\n\nI really wrote my way up out of 6E\nDevelop relationships with fiends, I know they miss me\nBefore the metrocards, it was tokens, I did the ten speed\nNever had wrote a rhyme in my life, what was a sixteen?\nAt sixteen, arrested in housin', trip to the mountains\nCame right back, trappin' off couches, watchin' for mouses\nOnly tools we was posed with, had a spot, smoke lit\nThe hate is just confusion, pay attention how them jokes switch\nDiadora was my favorite, the Mark Buchanans\nMama couldn't afford them, I learned everythin' on the border\nThat's a big 8, Clicquot parties with private dancers with no mixtape\nBumble Bee Tuna, now we could get steak\nI persevered, composition, I kept it close\nCompetition near, I'm a Spartan without the spear\nThree hundred rhymes, it was written before I wrote it\nOpportunity knockin', might miss it, that window closin'\nThis poetry in motion, I'm a poet\n(\"I wrote my way out\")\nWhen the world turned its back on me\nI was up against the wall\nI had no foundation\nNo friends and no family to catch my fall\nRunnin' on empty, there was nothin' left in me but doubt\nI picked up a pen and I wrote my way out!\n\nHigh speed, dubbin' these rhymes in my dual cassette deck\nRunnin' out of time like I'm Jonathan Larson's rent check\nMy mind is where the wild things are, Maurice Sendak\nIn withdrawal, I want it all, please give me that pen back\nY'all, I caught my first beatin' from the other kids when I was caught readin';\n\"Oh, you think you smart?\"\u2014Blaow!\u2014start bleedin'\nMy pops tried in vain to get me to fight back\nSister tapped my brains, said, \"Pssh\u2014you'll get 'em right back.\"\nOversensitive, defenseless, I made sense of it, I pencil in\nThe lengths to which I'd go to learn my strengths and knock 'em senseless\nThese sentences are endless, so what if they leave me friendless?\n\"Damn, you got no chill,\" fuckin' right\u2014I'm relentless\nI know Abuela's never really gonna win the lottery\nSo it's up to me to draw blood with this pen, hit an artery\nThis Puerto Rican's brains are leakin' through the speakers\nAnd if he can be the shinin' beacon this side of the G.W.B and\nShine a light when it's gray out?\n(\"I wrote my way out\")\nOh, I was born in the eye of a storm\nNo lovin' arms to keep me warm\nThis hurricane in my brain is the burden I bear\nI can do without, I'm here (I'm here)\n'Cause \"I wrote my way\u2014\" out!\n\n\"\u2014picked up the pen like Hamilton\"\n\"I wrote my way out of the pro\u2014\"\n\"\u2014wrote\u2014\"\n\"\u2014wrote my way out of the projects\"\n\"\u2014pick\u2014\"\n\"\u2014picked up the pen like Hamilton\"\n\"I wrote my way out of the\u2014\"\n\"\u2014wrote\u2014\"\n\"\u2014wrote my way out of the\u2014\"\n(\"I wrote my way\u2014\")\n\"\u2014picked up the pen like Hamilton\"\n\"I wrote my way out of the pro\u2014\"\n\"\u2014wrote\u2014\"\n\"\u2014wrote my way out of the projects\"\n(\"I wrote my way out\")\n\n\"Really, I saw, like, a hole in the rap game, so, if I wanted to put my little two cents in the game, then it would be from a different perspective.\"\n(\"I wrote my way out\")\n\"I thought that I would represent for my neighborhood and tell their story, be their voice, in a way that nobody has done it. Tell the real story.\""}
{"text":"(Y'all ready for Nas?\nQueensbridge, y'all ready to see Nasty Nas?\nUh huh, they ready)\nYeah, word\nGot some R\u00e9my Martin\nAnd some good-ass cigars, check it out\n\nAyo, late night, candlelight, fiend with diesel in his needle\nQueensbridge leader, no equal\nI come from the Wheel of Ezekiel\nTo pop thousand-dollar bottles of Scotch\nSmoke pot and heal the people\nAny rebuttal to what I utter get box-cutter'd\nCount how many bad honeys I slut, it's a high number\nName a nigga under the same sky that I'm under\nWho gets money, remain fly, yeah, I wonder\nEyes flutter, it's love when Nas pops up\nStars get starstruck, panties start drippin'\nThe ways of Carlito, blaze, torpedo cigars\nDrop Rolls, hoes drop clothes\nLouis the XIII, freaks, women nice size\nI ride like Porsches, thick, brown and gorgeous\nIt ain't my fault, semi-automatic weapons I brought\nThe world crazy, I'm rich and I'm girl-crazy\nDick 'em, convince \u2018em all to praise me\nThey ideology is confusion, I lose 'em\nFellates me, who hate me? My gun off safety\nSince the Tunnel and Skate Key, my jewelry in HD\nYou might also like\nSilent rage, pristine in my vintage shades\nI'm not in the winters of my life or the beginning stage\nI am the dragon\nMaserati, pumpin' Biggie, the great legend\nBlastin', I'm after the actress who played Faith Evans\nMy little Jackie Onassis, dig?\nI'm so high I never land like Mike Jackson's crib\nVest on, .45 still crack ya rib, sacrilege\nTalk trash 'bout the Nasty kid\nPast nasty now, I'm gross and repulsive\nTalk money, is you jokin'?\nCash everywhere, in my bank, in the sofa\nIn the walls, in the cars, in my wallet, in my pocket\nOn the floors, ceilings, the safe, bitch, I got it\nYou envy, but don't offend me\nI'm skinny, but still I'm too big for a Bentley\nYou are your car, what could represent me?\nToo Godly to be a Bugatti, you honestly\nMust design me somethin' Tommy Montana from Queens had before the 90's\nDrug dealer car, rush to the bar\nMove, niggas! We don't give a fuck who you are\nBlack card heavy like a magnet in my stitched denims\nPretty women see them saggin'\nBet a hundred stacks niggas'll run it back\nJust havin' fun, I ain't even begun to black\nLight another blunt in fact, haha...\n(Nasty) Nasty kid\n(Nasty) Yeah...\n(Nasty) The kid! (Nasty) Yeah...\n(Nasty) Nasty kid (Nasty)\n\nFor the hustlers, thick as yellow bitches for the suck of it\nGot a bunch of niggas in prison braggin'\nSaying, \"It was Nas I used to hustle with\"\nI display fashions while my lungs engage hashish\nGuns on my waist, past this\nSince I'm cakin' up, put funds in my safe, laughin'\nAnd joinin' the blunt passin' you niggas was straight assin'\nExcuse the vulgarity, I'm still not fully adjusted\nOr used to the new fans hearin' me spit rapidly\nI never see the whips niggas be claimin' they drivin'\nI guess entertainment means blatantly lyin'\nFake it 'til you make it, I've driven those toys\nBeen in them wars, in the streets, cops kickin' in doors\nFor my team, nigga, your flow cheap as limousine liquor\nI\u2019m no fake rap CD listener, sit back and roll a mean swisher\nFor my G's, tell these clowns make room for the king, nigga"}
{"text":"The cops used to come around in my neighborhood\n\"Alright, you kids, stop having so much fun, move along!\"\nOh they'd arrest me, you know, especially at night\nThey had a curfew, niggas had to be home at 11, negros, 12\nAnd you'd be trying to get home, doing your crew runs\nAnd they'd always catch you out in front of a store or something\n'Cause you'd be taking shortcuts, right\nCops, \"Ree, put your hands up, black boy!\"\n\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\n\nI don't wanna hurt nobody\nWe just came here to party\nSee a few dames, exchange some names\nI'm a top shotta, kid, stay in your lane\nThe cop shot the kid, same old scene\nPour out a little liquor, champagne for pain\nSlap-boxin' in the street\nCrack the hydrant in the heat\nCop cars on the creep\nDoin' they round-ups, we just watch for the sweep\nYeah, it's hotter than July\nIt's the summer when niggas die\nIt's the summer when niggas ride\nTogether we'll be strong, but forever we divide\nSo y'all are blowin' my high\nType of shit that's killin' my vibe\nWhite kids are brought in alive\nBlack kids get hit with like five\nGet scared, you panic, you're goin' down\nThe disadvantages of the brown\nHow in the hell the parents gon' bury their own kids\nNot the other way around?\nReminds me of Emmett Till\nLet's remind 'em why Kap kneels\nYou might also like\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nI still hear him scream\n\nStay tuned up and down your timeline\nThis fake news, people is all lyin'\nMoney is bein' made when a mom cries\nWon't be satisfied 'til we all die\nTell me, who do we call to report crime\nIf 9-1-1 doin' the driveby?\nIt's certain things I can't abide by\nI ain't bein' extreme, this is my side\nTalkin' big shit, ready to die\nI know every story got two sides\nClaimin' he paranoid by the black guy\nCop wanna make it home by nighttime\nJust a good kid, he wasn't that guy\nHad a little hit, he wasn't that high\nCop gon' claim that it was self-defense\nSay he was ridin' dirty so the case rests\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013 (workin' nine-to-five)\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013 (tryna stay alive)\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013 (makin' ends meet)\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013 (shot him this week)\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nThe cops shot the kid, the cops shot\u2013\nThe cops shot the kid\nI still hear him scream"}
{"text":"\nWoke up this mornin' (Yeah)\nYou got yourself a gun (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nGot yourself a gun\n\nYo, I'm livin' in this time behind enemy lines, so\nI got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou from the hood, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun\nAnd when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so\nYou tried to front, hope you got yourself a gun\nYou ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun\n\nMy first album had no famous guest appearances\nThe outcome, I'm crowned the best lyricist\nMany years on this professional level\nWhy would you question who's better? The world is still mine\nTattoo's real, with \"God's Son\" across the belly, the boss of rap\nYou saw me in Belly with thoughts like that\nTo take it back to Africa, I did it with Biggie\nMe and 2Pac were soldiers of the same struggle\nYou lames could huddle, your team's shook\nY'all feel the wrath of a killer, 'cause this is my football field\nThrowin' passes from a barrel, shoulder pads, apparel\nBut the QB don't stand for no quarterback\nEvery word is like a sawed-off blast 'cause y'all all soft\nAnd I'm the black hearse that came to haul y'all ass in\nIt's for the hood by the corner store\nMany try, many die, come at Nas if you want a war, get it bloody\nYou might also like\nI got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou from the hood, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun\nAnd when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so\nYou tried to front, hope you got yourself a gun\nYou ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun, yo\n\nI'm the N, the A to the S-I-R\nAnd if I wasn't, I must've been Escobar\nYou know the kid got his chipped tooth fixed, hair parted with a\nBarber's preciseness, Bravehearted for life, it's\nReturn of the golden child, son of a blues player\nSo who are you, player? Y'all awaited the true savior\nPuffin' that tropical, cups of that vodka, too\nPapi chu's, tore up, wake up in a hospital\nThrow up? Never, 'member I do this through righteous steps\nYou Judas thought I was gone, so in light of my death\nY'all been all happy-go-lucky, bunch of sambos\nCall me God's Son with my pants low\nI don't die slow, put them rags up like Petey Pablo\nThis is NASDAQ though, in my Nascar, with this Nas flow\nWhat could beat that? Not a soul reppin'\nHit the record store, never let me go, get my whole collection, yo\nI got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou from the hood, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun\nAnd when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so\nYou tried to front, hope you got yourself a gun\nYou ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun\n\nIt's the return of the prince, the boss\nThis is real hardcore, Kid Rock and Limp Bizkit soft\nSip Cris', get chips, wrist glist', I floss\nStick shift look sick up in that Boxster Porsche\nWith the top cut off, rich kids go and cop The Source\nThey don't know about the blocks I'm on\nAnd everybody wanna know where the kid go\nWhere he rest at, where he shop at and dress at\nKnow he got dough, where does he live? Is he still in the Bridge?\nDoes he really know how ill that he is?\nGot all of y'all watchin' my moves, my watch and my jewels\nHop in my coupe, dodge interviews like that\nIt's not only my jewels, ice anything, plenty chains\nLook at my tennis shoes, I iced that\nWho am I? The back twister, lingerie ripper\nAutomatic leg-spreader, quicker brain-getter\nKeepin' it gangsta with ya (Uh)\nI got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou from the hood, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun\nAnd when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so\nYou tried to front, hope you got yourself a gun\nYou ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun\n\nGot yourself a gun (Uh)\nI got mine, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou from the hood, I hope you got yourself a gun\nYou want beef? Hope you got yourself a gun\nAnd when I see you, I'ma take what I want, so\nYou tried to front, hope you got yourself a gun\nYou ain't real, hope you got yourself a gun"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsStay Lyrics\n\n(Staaaaaaaay...)\n\n(Staaaaaaaay...) Oooh-oooh-ooooh-ooooooh\nOooh-oooh-ooooooh, ooh-ooooh...\nStaaaaaaaay... Oooh-oooh-ooooh-ooooooh\nOooh-oooh-ooooooh, ooooh-ooh-oh...\n\nPeace to the Five Percenters, online engine inventors\nShout to them niggas, family men, bringing home dinners\nWatch out for desperate lonely women, hurt your happy home\nMiserable and alone, kissable, nice to bone\nShe not the type deserving of a throne\nHer beauty is her curse, she fuck for shoes and a purse\nMake me a movie first, can watch you on my phone\nI shop in Barcelona, I spend some nights in Rome\nFeel like a Knight from England\nThat's what I named my son, Knight\nHe was born to be one, that's how my game was won\nWhite 740 Bimmer, licked by an angel's tongue\nI'm living dangerous son, she got a man, a famous one\nHoney be pocket watching, she got a lot of options\nHard to make up her mind deciding which baller to rock with\nHot to death, slim pickings but I'm not impressed\nShe got the hottest sex, so I guess I'ma just.. stay\nYou might also like\n(Staaaaaaaay...) Oooh-oooh-ooooh-ooooooh\nOooh-oooh-ooooooh, ooh-ooooh...\nStaaaaaaaay... Oooh-oooh-ooooh-ooooooh\nOooh-oooh-ooooooh, ooooh-ooh-oh...\n\nEven though I don't like you\nNext Friday night can't wait to fight you\nLocked up I would knife you, don't fuck with you\nLast month I even bucked at you, you got locked\nI felt bad, wait do I got love for you?\nI might kill you but do I got love for you?\nI want you dead under six feet of soil\nAt the same time, want you here to witness me while you in misery\nWe hate each other but it's love, what a thug mystery\nYears ago they ate the hearts of a slain enemy\nWe enemies but your hatred could never enter me\nSome seek fame cause they need validation\nSome say hating is confused admiration\nSpotlight on me, I still look twenty\nStill get money, lady killer pushing a Bentley\nMaybe niggas could see too much of they failures\nThrough a nigga who realer\nI don't like you near bruh, but I need you to.. stay\n(Staaaaaaaay...) Oooh-oooh-ooooh-ooooooh\nOooh-oooh-ooooooh, ooh-ooooh...\nStaaaaaaaay... Oooh-oooh-ooooh-ooooooh\nOooh-oooh-ooooooh, ooooh-ooh-oh..."}
{"text":"73 ContributorsNo Introduction Lyrics\n\nJ.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n\nPS 111 had free lunch\nEmbarrassed but managed to get a plate...\nWe was kids hungry\nMom's working, I was famished\nShe getting home late...\nSo I decided now I'm in charge\nEither stay full or starve\nCorner store like \"Mister, spare-a-quarter\"\nBefore Air Jordans, Kareem Abdul-Jabbars\nTrying to cop quarters and trying to move that hard\nRoll with a shooting squad\nHow could I not succumb? How could I not partake?\nFifteen, I got a gun\nSixteen, I robbed a train\nLicked off a shot for fun\nWhat's got inside my brain?\nA hustler's job ain't done, til he becomes a king\nBut I'm a righteous son, despite I'm in the midst of\nDudes who switch up and change\nThey wanna carry me like I'm some kind of lame\nI never let them though, I just forgive them though\nEither that or the pistol blow\nYou might also like\n\"Say YEAH!\nHaha, thank ya!\nAhhh, Hallelujah!\nY'all don't hear me now! Somebody help me!\"\n\nI remember early mornings, syrup sandwiches, sugar water, yeah\nWalking up the dark stairwells, elevators was out of order, yeah\nWorth two hundred million now\nBicentennial nigga, flat screens and condominiums\nBrazilian women on Xannies they pulling off panties\nI'm pushing forty, she only twenty-one\nDon't applaud me, I'm exhausted G\nMe and my red cup, my blunt and my red cup\nY'all wouldn't know me without one, I keep a fresh cut\nRemember talking to Biggie inside his Lex truck\nSaid stay fly when you bummy, keep your pajamas Armani\nHood forever, I just act like I'm civilized\nReally what's in my mind is organizing a billion Black motherfuckers\nTo take over J.P. and Morgan, Goldman and Sachs\nAnd teach the world facts and give Saudi they oil back\n\n\"Say YEAH!\nHaha, thank ya!\nAhhh, Hallelujah!\nY'all don't hear me now! Somebody help me!\"\n1990's Polo Ralph Lauren on him\nGone a few years, the whole world snoring on him\nGirls all up on him\nI spread em, hit 'em and dead 'em\nShe says, third leg from a legend is sheer heaven\nShe says, it is the greatest loving\nThe tales you hear is the truth on me\nWho wasn't the most faithful husband\nReveal my life, you will forgive me\nYou will love me, hate me, judge me, relate to me\nOnly a few will, this how it sounds when you're too real\nThey think it's just music still\nWell I am a graphic classic song composer\nMusic notes on sheets, I wrote this piece to get closure\nSome of y'all might know Kelis, this goes to her with love\nAlso goes to y'all, let's see\nThe craziest things already happened to me\nSo either you'll be laughing at me or you're laughing with me, ha\n\n\"Say YEAH!\nHaha, thank ya!\nAhhh, Hallelujah!\nY'all don't hear me now! Somebody help me!\""}
{"text":"Uhh, uhh, uhh\n\nLord have mercy, Jesus Christ\nHe's just nice, he just slice like a Ginsu\nLook at the life that I've been through\nI'm the last real nigga alive, that's official\nLord have mercy, Jesus Christ\nHe's just nice, he just slice like a Ginsu\nLook at the life that I've been through (uhh)\nI'm the last real nigga alive, that's official\n\nY'all don't know about my Biggie wars\nWho you thought \"Kick in the Door\" was for?\nBut that's my heart, y'all still trippin' off the Jigga shit\nReal niggas listen up and I'ma tell you how the whole thing start\nOff top I brung Queens up from hard times\nRockin' at the Fever, streets was all mine\nIt was my version of the blues, droppin' out schools\nThe crack epidemic had rap representin' new rules\nSo I got in them shoes, tried 'em, wore them\nWasn't a perfect fit so I couldn't sport 'em\nYoung murderers ride, I knew all them\nJungle got shot, Will died, we was warrin'\nI wrote it in my album\nI was 18 when Lake seen the Island, and Lord held me down and\nMy surroundings started changin', I had a baby\nI was makin' my rounds with AZ\nNiggas started noticin' my flow and was open when\nThe Golden Child closed 'em in\nWith more style than them older men\nPuff tried to start a label, Prince Rakeem had formed Wu-Tang\nSnoop and Dre had a new thing\nSo Puff drove his new Range through Queensbridge Projects\nHe let me drive it, before Ready to Die hit\nBig and I hit blunts performin' at the Ark\nNext thing you knew, Big blew and all the ballin' starts\nHe had Kim in his crew, I found Fox\nOnly niggas in New York with number one charts\nBig was ahead of his time, him and Raekwon\nMy niggas, but dig it, they couldn't get along\nThat's when Ghostface said it on The Purple Tape\nBad Boy bitin' Nas album cover, wait\nBig told me Rae was stealin' my slang\nAnd Rae told me, out in Shaolin, Big would do the same thing\nBut I borrowed from both them niggas\nJigga started to flow like us, but hit with \"Ain't No Niggas\"\nHad much Versace swagger\nBig admired the Brooklynite and took him in as Iceberg the rappers\nToday, don't know nothin' about this boss shit\nThere's more shit to wantin' to be this King of New York shit\nUhh, uhh, uhh\nYou might also like\nLord have mercy, Jesus Christ\nHe's just nice, he just slice like a Ginsu\nLook at the life that I've been through\nI'm the last real nigga alive, that's official\nLord have mercy, Jesus Christ\nHe's just nice, he just slice like a Ginsu (uhh)\nLook at the life that I've been through (yeah)\nI'm the last real nigga alive, that's official\n\nRap became a version of Malcolm and Martin\nRest in peace Will, Queensbridge live on\nThere's some ghetto secrets I can't rhyme in this song\nThere's some missing pieces I had to leave out\nHad lost trust for Steve Stoute at some point 'til I got to know him\nWe old friends, but what's loyal?\nPuff soaked Interscope offices with champagne bottles on Steve\nAnd Steve thought the drama's on me\n'Cause previously it would've been, against whoever\nFriends forever\nHowever, I learned, with some niggas it's all business\nBut I'm a street dude with morals\nThen this nigga's with Jigga too much\nHe used to say Jay wanted my spot\nI laughed, stayed home, never hung a lot\nA quiet man who used to be alone plannin'\nBaby moms thought I was too quiet, couldn't stand it\nShe hit the streets, later on she hittin' the sheets\nWith a rapper who wanted me on his songs, thinkin' he strong\nI taught her how to watch for cars who might follow\nTaught her street shit that I know\nHer weakness was shine yo\nBut that's her, I ain't mad, baby, it made me stronger\nNow I get my paper longer\nIllmatic I was boss, It Was Written I flossed\nOne of the most creative LP's ever to hit stores\nIn The Firm I learned I Am NAStradamus\nQB's Finest, Oochie Wally, faced more problems\nI gave it all up so I can chill at home with Mama\nShe was gettin' old and sick so I stayed beside her\nWe had the best times, she asked would I make more songs\nI told her not 'til I see her health get more strong\nIn the middle of that, Jay tried to sneak attack\nAssassinate my character, degrade my hood\n'Cause in order for him to be the Don, Nas had to go\nThe Gam-B-I-N-O rules I understood\nWhat y'all want, see, I already had\nThe Gift and The Curse? Fuck that shit, the first you'll be last\nI'm the man's man, a rapper's rapper\nG-O-D, S-O-N \u2013 they'll be none after\nI was Scarface, Jay was Manolo\nIt hurt me when I had to kill him and his whole squad for dolo...\nUhh, uhh, uhh\nLord have mercy, Jesus Christ\nHe's just nice, he just slice like a Ginsu\nLook at the life that I've been through\nI'm the last real nigga alive, that's official\nLord have mercy, Jesus Christ\nHe's just nice, he just slice like a Ginsu\nLook at the life that I've been through\nI'm the last real nigga alive, that's official"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsHip Hop Is Dead Lyrics\nHip hop, hip hop (Ugh!) is dead\n(Had to flip this track again, y'all!)\nHip, hip hop, hip hop (Ugh!) is dead\nHip, hip hop (Ugh!)\nHip, hip hop is dead (NYC! Dirty South!)\nHip, hip hop (West Coast!)\nHip hop (Midwest!)\nHip hop (Let's go!)\n\nIf hip hop should die before I wake\nI'll put an extended clip and body 'em all day\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\nIf hip hop should die before I wake\nI'll load an extended clip and body 'em all day\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\n(Hip hop just died this morning\nAnd she's dead, she's dead)\n\nYeah, niggas smoke, laugh, party and die in the same corner\nGet cash, live fast, body their man's mama\nQuick fast, trigger fingers on the llama\nRevenge in their eyes, Hennessy and the ganja\nWord to the wise with villain state of minds\nGrindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind\nGrindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind\n(Grindin', hittin' Brazilian dimes from behind)\nWhenever, if ever, I roll up, it's sown up\nAny ghetto will tell ya, \"Nas helped grow us up\"\nMy face once graced promotional Sony trucks\nHundred million and billin', I helped blow 'em up\nGave my man my right, I could have went left\nSo like my girl Foxy, the kid went deaf\nSo people, who's your top 10? Is it MC Shan? Is it MC Ren?\nYou might also like\nIf hip hop should die before I wake\nI'll put an extended clip and body 'em all day\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\nIf hip hop should die before I wake\nI'll load an extended clip and body 'em all day\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\n(Hip hop just died this morning\nAnd she's dead, she's dead)\n\nThe bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin'\nCome through, something ill, missing the ceilin'\nWhat influenced my raps? Stick-ups and killings\nKidnappings, project buildings, drug dealings\nCriticize that, why's that?\n\u2018Cause Nas rap is compared to legitimized crack\n\u2018Cause we love to talk on nasty chickens\nMost intellectuals will only half listen\nSo you can't blame jazz musicians\nOr David Stern with his NBA fashion issues\nOh, I think they like me, in my white tee\nYou can't ice me, we here for life, B\nOn my second marriage, hip hop's my first wifey\nAnd for that, we not taking it lightly\nIf hip hop should die, we die together\nBodies in the morgue lie together, all together now\nIf hip hop should die before I wake\nI'll put an extended clip and body 'em all day\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\nIf hip hop should die before I wake\nI'll load an extended clip and body 'em all day\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\nRoll to every station, wreck the DJ\n(Hip hop just died this morning\nHip hop just died this morning\nHip hop just died this morning\nAnd she's dead, she's dead)\n\nEverybody sound the same, commercialize the game\nReminiscing when it wasn't all business\nIt forgot where it started\nSo we all gather here for the dearly departed\nHip-hopper since a toddler\nOne homeboy became a man, then a mobster\nIf it dies, let me get my last swig of vodka\nRIP, we'll donate your lungs to a rasta\nWent from turntables to MP3's\nFrom \"Beat Street\" to commercials on Mickey D's\nFrom gold cables to Jacobs\nFrom plain facials to Botox and face lifts\nI'm looking over my shoulder\nIt's about 80 people from my hood that showed up\nAnd they came to show love\nSold out concert and the doors are closed shut"}
{"text":"93 ContributorsYou\u2019re da Man Lyrics\nUh, uh\nYo\n\nThey plan was to knock me out the top of the game\nBut I overstand they truth is all lame\nI hold cannons that shoot balls of flame\nRight in they fat mouth then I carve my name\nNas too real, Nas, true king\nIt's however you feel, go 'head, you swing\nYour arms too short to box with God\nI don't kill soloists, only kill squads\nFame went to they head, so now it's \"Fuck Nas\"\nYesterday you begged for a deal, today you tough guys\nI seen it coming soon as I popped my first bottle\nI spotted my enemies tryna do what I do\nCame in with my style, so I fathered you\nI kept changing on the world since Barbeque\nNow you wanna hang with niggas I hung with\nFuck bitches I hit, it's funny I once said\nIf I ever make a record, I'll take a check\nAnd put something away for a rainy day to make my exit\nBut look at me now, ten years deep\nSince the project bench with cracks in my sock, 'sleep\nI never asked to be top of rap's elite\nJust a ghetto child tryna learn the craft of the streets\nBut look at me now\nYou might also like\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man, you're the man\nNow wait a sec', give me time to explain, women and fast cars\nAnd diamond rings can poison a rap star\nWas suicidal, high, smoking so much lye\nI saw a dead bird flying through a broken sky\nWish I could flap wings and fly away\nTo where black kings in Ghana stay\nSo I could get old, my flesh rot away\nBut that'll be the day when it's peace\nWhen my gat don't need to spray\nWhen these streets are safe to play\nSex with death, indulge in these women\nVision my own skeleton swimming in eternal fire\nBroads play with pentagrams in they vagina\nLike the Exorcist, then they gave birth to my seeds\nI beg for God's help, why they love hurting me?\nI'm your disciple, a thug certainly\nI'm the N, the A to the S-I-R\nIf I wasn't, I must've been Escobar\n.45 in my waist, staring at my reflection\nIn the mirror, sitting still in the chair like Mike Concepcion\nWhen everything around me got cloudy\nThe chair became a king's throne, my destiny found me\nIt was clear why the struggle was so painful\nMetamorphosis, this is what I changed to\nAnd God, I'm so thankful\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man, you're the man\nYou're the man\n\nYo, ugh, look, look, ugh, that's that bitch Wiz was fuckin' (Haha)\nDamn, that's fucked up\nNigga, let's get high, nigga (Roll them dice, nigga, hurry up)\nHighest to the sky, it's four hundred in here, nigga\nWhat the fuck is you niggas talkin' 'bout, nigga?\nOne, one, one, all around the bar\nCome on, let's get high, nigga, oh, shit, oh (Oh)\nFour fifty-six, nigga, shut the fuck up\nFuck y'all niggas, run my fuckin' money (Run that back)\nRun that back, man (Bust it back)\nI gotta get high, man, you got weed? (Run that back)\nRun it back? Alright, run it back, c'mon"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsPurple Lyrics\nLight it, uhh\nLight it up, uhh\n\nThe whole city is mine, prettiest Don\nI don't like the way P. Diddy did Shyne with different lawyers\nWhy it's mentioned in my rhymes? Fuck it\nIt's just an intro, hate it or love it, like it, bump it or dump it\nWrite it, across the stomach spell \"God's Son\"\nLife is like a jungle, black, it's like the habitat of Tarzan\nMatter of fact, it's harder than most can imagine\nMost of my niggas packed in correctional facilities\nHalf of them passed on, MAC strong, couple of shots\nMade the ghost leave a body, now they hauntin' the block\nWhere they used to stand at, somebody's takin' they place\nA younger man perhaps, hand slaps, can't understand that\nSame walk, same talk, I wonder can that be possible?\nA thug dies, another step inside his shoes\nAnd they will hurt you, layin' low with a bottle\nI'm blowin' circles, my state of mind purple\n\nLight it, light it, uhh\nYeah\u2026 light it up\nLight it up, uhh\nYou might also like\nY'all just wanna deal with drama\nTalk about niggas who got things, y'all ready to kill his mama\nEverything you into is underworld related\nYou sell your man out, not even your girl is sacred\nYou don't trust a soul, hold up, you moldin' soldiers\nTo pull guns quick and always look behind the shoulder\nThink of how many dudes died tryna be down with you\nEverybody's under six feet of ground, but you\nStill standin', still roamin' through the streets, that's real\nYou a survivor, knowin' all the beef is ill\nYou got a bunch of thugs with you even now that's ready\nTrustin' your judgment, quick to put it down, they deadly\nThe hood love you, but behind your back, they pray for the day\nA bullet hit your heart and ambulances take you away\nThat ain't love, it's hate, think of all the mothers at wakes\nWhose sons you killed and you ain't got a cut on your face?\nUnmarked police cars roam the streets hard, the heat is God\nSomebody tell these shorties reach for the stars\nInstead they tell 'em how to reach through the bars holdin' a mirror\nLookin' down a tier in jail, makin' weapons to kill ya\nWeed smoke, three tokes, nigga, pour more Henny\nHe sighs with eyes that seen a war too many\nCold-blooded murderers, universal\nHood to hood, blowin' smoke, state of mind is purple\nLight it up, light it up, light it up, uhh\nLight it up\u2026 light it up, light it up, uhh\nUhh\u2026 uhh, uhh, light it, light it, uhh\n\nThese hot-headed youngsters always get into trouble\nReactin' before thinkin', they easily irritated\nAnd murder's premeditated, it's a fact that we sinkin'\nWhen we should be climbin', in a nutshell, it's just jail\nDrug sales, liquor and diamonds, niggas rewindin'\nInstead of movin' forward to blow up, so what's the science?\nPeople shoutin', police pushin' the crowd\nAnd on the ground's a young soldier with meat hangin' out him\nAm I hallucinatin' off the hazin'?\nOr did I just see a nigga shoot another nigga's face in?\nIt's a ugly nation, cops circle the block with mug shots\nPhotograph pictures of suspect faces\nIt's usually two or three niggas who innocent\nBut if they lock the wrong ones up, then someone'll snitch\nA divide-and-fall strategy, they aren't fair\nI dig in my bag of weed that's covered with orange hair\nThis Color Purple'll make Whoopi give me the pussy\nAnd Celie, Oprah and Danny Glover gots to feel me\nThis is how I escape the madness\nToo much of anything'll hurt you, so my state of mind's all purple"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsTrust Lyrics\nIt's like a cold story.. repeated over and over\nIn the winters of my mind, yeah\nThis shit be real, man..\nShit's crazy out here..\nYo yo, yo what up y'all?\nThat's my niggas over there, word\n\nIf you scared to take chances, you'll never have the answers\nI could tell the future of a dude how his stance is\nWonder will he shoot then you should study where his hands is\nIs he gon' cock it and pop it? His waistband big\nBut he don't have that thing in him, slangin just ain't in him\nBody language is off, he's soft\nBut soft niggas all a sudden start dumpin', frontin'\n'Cause he feel a way: my niggas say the eyes is a giveaway\nOne look could tell me if you really came to kill me\nBe the quiet nigga lookin' lame with the milli\nWho that over there creepin'? Who homie by the tree?\nBetter safe than sorry, look at p-noid me\nFew machine guns close, we could squeeze all three\nBe a cold day in hell 'fore they creep on me\nIt\u2019s a lesson every premonition\nLot of niggas killed 'cause they wasn't payin' attention, listen\nYou might also like\nI want a bitch I can trust, some niggas I can trust\nAccountants lookin' over my figures I can trust\nA lawyer that's fightin' for my decisions I can trust\nDamn my nigga, trust, I can never get enough\nOr Rugers I can trust, shooters I can trust\nGoons that know how to spot out a Judas I can trust\nAnd if I can't trust you, the fuck is you here for?\nSome of you niggas' true colors becomin' clear more\n\nIt's been so long, can\u2019t remember how we begun this war\nThis is a ever-lasting thunderstorm, 'cause guns went off\nI see your moms, she still speak\nShe don't know I ain't cool with her son no more\nIt\u2019s old shit, see forever we holdin' this grudge\nTakes real men to squash beef, end it with hugs\nWe buried our dead, been years, why should I worry 'bout him?\nConstantly watchin' my back, plus niggas tellin' I dread\nAnother day I put a family in black\nThough I be calm and relaxed\nThough I know somehow it will come back\nEven if I'm in the right, 'cause still a life is a life\nWhat was it worth to see you covered in dirt?\nIt\u2019s quite redundant, whether you the hunter or the hunted\nMothers cry, no statute of limitation on a homicide\nJust tattoos of my niggas' names\nI wonder, will it change? Let's ride\u2026\nI want a bitch I can trust, some niggas I can trust\nAccountants lookin' over my figures I can trust\nA lawyer that\u2019s fightin' for my decisions I can trust\nDamn my nigga, trust, I can never get enough\nOr Rugers I can trust, shooters I can trust\nGoons that know how to spot out a Judas I can trust\nAnd if I can't trust you, the fuck is you here for?\nSome of you niggas' true colors becomin' clear more\n\nIt's rare I listen to niggas who never been in my position\nA caterpillar can't relate to what an eagle envisions\nFrom the mind of a man who went at it with killers\nSit down, little man, let me school you in hood business\nSeen a lot of niggas blow, lot of dreams folded\nSome wasn't humble, ate too much, got bloated\nAin't too much left to buy, bought it, I'm loaded, I guess\nLear jets, I ask myself: do I need love or success?\nThey say the artist that truly suffers, his stuff is the best\n'Cause his heart bleed on his sleeve: pain, pistols and sex\nRemember spray paintin' the word \"fresh\" and then starin' at it\nOlder folks angry, pointin', swearin' at it\nBuildings I sprayed, nowadays drive the McLaren past it\nSame old man from years ago told me life is short\nSo from infant to geriatric, trust your own judgment\nLive with it and love it\nI want a bitch I can trust, some niggas I can trust\nAccountants lookin' over my figures I can trust\nA lawyer that's fightin' for my decisions I can trust\nDamn my nigga, trust, I can never get enough\nOr Rugers I can trust, shooters I can trust\nGoons that know how to spot out a Judas I can trust\nAnd if I can't trust you, the fuck is you here for?\nSome of you niggas' true colors becomin' clear more"}
{"text":"\nYeah\n\nAyo, it's poison\nEcstasy, coke, you say it's love, it is poison\nSchools where I learned, they should be burned, it is poison\nPhysicians prescriptin' us medicine which is poison\nDoctors injectin' our infants with the poison\nReligion misoverstood is poison\nNiggas up in my hood be gettin' shot, given poison\n\nIn hospitals, shots riddle the block\nLittle children and elderly women run for they lives\nDrizzlin' rain come out the sky every time somebody dies\nMust be out my fuckin' mind, what is this, the hundredth time?\nSendin' flowers to funerals, readin' \"Rest In Peace\"\nYou know, the usual, death comes in threes\n\"Life is short\" is what some nigga said\nNot if you measure life by how one lives and what he did\nAnd funny how these black-killer companies is makin' money off us\nFast food, Cola, soda, Skull and Bone crosses\nYou might also like\nIt's all poison\nEcstasy, coke, you say it's love, it is poison\nSchools where I learned, they should be burned, it is poison\nPhysicians prescriptin' us medicine which is poison\nDoctors injectin' our infants with the poison\nReligion misoverstood is poison\nSisters up in my hood try to do good, given choices\n\nWhen pregnant, drop out of school or have abortions\nStop workin', hopin' that they find a man that will support them\nUp late night, on they mother's cordless\nThinkin' a perm or bleachin' cream will make them better, when they gorgeous\nWhite girls tannin', liposuction\nFake titties are implanted, fake lips, that's life destruction\nLight-skinned women, bi-racial, hateful\nToward themselves, denyin' even they blood\nI don't judge Tiger Woods, but I\nOverstand the mental poison that's even worser than drugs\n\nYo, it's poison\nEcstasy, coke, you say it's love, it is poison\nSchools where I learned, they should be burned, it is poison\nPhysicians prescriptin' us medicine which is poison\nDoctors injectin' our infants with the poison\nReligion misoverstood is poison\nRadio and TV, poison\nWhite Jesus, poison\nAnd any thoughts of takin' me down is poison\nWho want beef now? My heat shall anoint them, plaow\nNever to worry\nAll the wrong-doers got it comin' back to 'em a thousand times over\nEvery dog has its day, and everything flips around\nEven the most greatest nation in the world has it comin' back to 'em\nEverybody reaps what they sows, that's how it goes\nInnocent lives will be taken, it may get worse\nBut we'll get through it, y'all, be strong\n\nThe China-man built the railroad\nThe Indians saved the Pilgrim\nAnd in return, the Pilgrim killed 'em\nThey call it Thanksgiving, I call your holiday \"Hell-day\"\n'Cause I'm from poverty, neglected by the wealthy\nMe and my niggas share gifts e'ryday like Christmas\nSlay bitches, and party e'ryday like this is the last\nI'm with my heckles, connectin' and we hittin' the lab\nThis is my level, fuck if it get you mad\n\nIt's all poison\nAll of my words to enemies, it is poison\nRappers only talk about keys, it's all poison\nHow could you call yourself MC's? You ain't poison\nThink about the kids you mislead with the poison\nAnd any thoughts of takin' me down is all poison\nWho want beef now? My heat shall anoint them, plaow\nWhat goes around comes around, my nigga\nAnd what goes up, it must come down, my nigga\nThe soldiers found below the ground, my nigga\nJust hold it down, we older now, my nigga\nWhat goes around comes around, my nigga\nAnd what goes up, it must come down, my nigga\nThe soldiers found below the ground, my nigga (Uh)\nJust hold it down, we older now, my nigga\n\nThis nigga Ike with the Iverson jersey, light-skinned with herpes\nFuckin' sisters in Harlem, Brooklyn and D.C\nThis is the problem, 'cause he never tell 'em he got it\nFrom lettin' fags suck him off, Rikers Island in '93\nDrives a Benz, hangs at all the parties\nAll the concerts, backstage where the stars be\nRockin' they shirts in bitches' faces like clockwork\n\"What's your name? Where you from?\"\nChain blingin', thinkin' girls everywhere is dumb\nTakin' pride in ruinin' their lives\nSo they could never have babies, and they could never be wives\nHe never used a condom, give him head? He got ya\nMet the wrong bitch and now he dead from the monster AIDS\nI contemplate, believin' in karma\nThose on top could just break and won't be eatin' tomorrow\nI know some bitches who be sleepin' on niggas' dreams\nThey leave, when that nigga blow, she the first bitch on her knees\nKnowin' dudes that's neglectin' they seeds\nInstead of takin' care of 'em, they spendin' money on trees\nI pray for you deadbeat daddies 'cause when them kids get grown\nIt's too late for you, now you old and you gettin' shitted on\nIt's all scientific, mystic, you know, the Earth and the stars\nDon't hesitate to say you heard it from Nas\nWhat is destined shall be\nGeorge Bush-killer 'til George Bush kills me\nMuch blessings, be healthy, remember\n\nWhat goes around comes around, my nigga\nAnd what goes up, it must come down, my nigga\nThe soldiers found below the ground, my nigga\nJust hold it down, we older now, my nigga\nWhat goes around comes around, my nigga\nAnd what goes up, it must come down, my nigga\nThe soldiers found below the ground, my nigga\nJust hold it down, we older now, my nigga"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsAccident Murderers Lyrics\n\nYou cocked back\nYou thought you had it planned, you thought you had your man\nHe saw you coming, he ran when you tried to blast that man\nMissed him by inches, he sprinted\nSome of his boys on the corner was who your bullets entered\nTwo of 'em pull through but one didn't, son's finished\nYou took the life of him\nThe part about it that's crazy, you was aight with him\nTight with him, why was he in the way?\nWhy was he standing next to the enemy that specific day?\nHis style never hollas loud, stays reclusive\nGood dude, got that look like he always about to do shit\nSide of his mouth toothpick, one eyebrow raised\nGot into it with dude who still tried to live out his old wild out days\nThey never had no probs\nSomehow they rubbed each other wrong like a bad massage\nThese two different personalities had to collide\nNiggas could not aim and innocent niggas died\nYou ask why, 'cause of a\n\nAccident murderer, act like you killed on purpose\nLiars brag, you put work in\nYou ain't mean to murk him, your gun's a virgin\nStreets are full of 'em, read the bulletin\nAccident murderer\nYou just an accident murderer\nYou might also like\nWe grew up doing graffiti, now hollow heads getting heated\nSeated in foreign cars, constantly getting weeded\nProceeded to count profits, I know they got on binoculars\nBut fuck em all, we balling 'til they come lock us up\n20 to life; I'm clubbing, blowing 20 tonight\nWe the mob, Bob Marley Marlin' all through the night\nAddicted to wealth, never cold turkey to war\nSnatch a TEC off the shelf, live forever; that's Insh'Allah\nMemoirs of a rich nigga\nSweat suits, gold chains, old drug dealers\nNew Benz, chrome rims are for show, killer\nYou niggas accidental, shoppers in back of the limo\nPay your tithes, stay alive, can't be dodging my clique\nCut a check; I use your bitch for some bargaining chips\nIn a hole, sell your home, nigga go sell your soul\nThis forty-five in control, God forgives and I don't\n\nAccident murderer, act like you killed on purpose\nLiars brag, you put work in\nYou ain't mean to murk him, your gun's a virgin\nStreets are full of 'em, read the bulletin\nAccident murderer\nYou just an accident murderer\nAccident murderer\nAccident murderer, you just an accident murderer\n\nYo, for my nigga that got killed, got hit up\nVodka spills on the concrete, light a swisha, we miss ya\nAnd for that girl who never made it home, shot in the dome\nHow they gon' kill that beautiful sister?\nViolent adolescents, homicidal with weapons\nNot a lot of knowledge inside of they minds, that I'm guessing\nTell me who you impressing\nShooters I knew them when they was babies, I used to test them\nMake em throw up they hands, choke 'em out playing wrestling\nWatch em grow to a man, I see them now they repping\nBut they cold-blooded, homie, wondering where the respect went\nCan't play with these little niggas, gangsta little niggas\nCan't hang with these little niggas, they're killing, they're reckless\nWish I could build with him, but will he change really?\nSome real killers, I think of Wayne Perry\nThink of my nigga Drawz, but you aren't a name to me\nYou ain't mean to kill him, it wasn't necessary\n\nAccident murderer, act like you killed on purpose\nLiars brag, you put work in\nYou ain't mean to murk him, your gun's a virgin\nStreets are full of em, read the bulletin\nAccident murderer\nYou just an accident murderer"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsRewind Lyrics\nListen up, gangstas and honeys with your hair done\nPull up a chair, hon', and put it in the air, son\nDog, whatever they call you, God, just listen\nI'll spit a story backwards, it starts at the endin'\nThe bullet goes back in the gun\nThe bullet holes close in this chest of a nigga, now he back to square one\nScreamin', \"shoot don't please\", I put my fifth back on my hip\nIt's like a VCR rewindin' a hit\nHe put his hands back on his bitch, my caravan doors open up\nI jumped back in the van, they closin' shut\nGoin' reverse, slowly prepared\nMy nigga Jungle utters out somethin' crazy like, \"Go he there\"\nSittin' back in his chair, we hittin' the roach\nThe smoke goes back in the blunt, the blunt gets bigger in growth\nJungle unrolls it, put his weed back in the jar\nThe blunt turns back into a cigar\nWe listen to Stevie, it sounded like heavy metal fans\nSpinnin' records backwards of AC\/DC\nI give my niggas dap, jump out the van, back first\nBack upstairs, took off the black shirt\nI'm in the crib with the phone to my ear\nListen up so y'all can figure out the poem real clear\nThe voice on the phone was like, \"Outside right we\"\nSo with my mouth wide, holdin' my heat\nBullets I had plenty to squeeze, plenty for you\n'Cause Jungle said, \"Block your on enemy's the\"\nHung up the phone, then the phone rang\nI'm laid in the bed, thinkin' about this pretty young thing\nWho left, she came back, her clothes just fell to the rug\nShe fell to my bed and gave me a hug\nI told her, \"No hell,\" she talkin' 'bout, \"Me kiss\"\nBobbed her head then spit a nut back in my dick\nStarted suckin' with no hands, a whole lot of spit\nThen got up and put her bra back on her tits\nGot fully dressed and told me, \"Stressed really I'm\"\nPicked up her Gucci bag and left a nigga behind\nWalkin' through the door, she rang the bell twice\nI vomited vodka back in my glass with juice and ice\nThe clock went back from three to two to one\nAnd that's about the time the story begun\nThat's when I first heard the voicemail on the cell\nIt said, \"Son, we found that nigga we gotta kill\"\nYou might also like\nAyo, son, ayo, son, you hear me? You hear me?\nListen, man\nThis dude right on the block right now, man\nI found him, right now, I see him right now\nLet's kill him\nYo, this Nas, leave it, peace"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsLoco-Motive Lyrics\nOooooh-ooooh-oooooooh\n42nd Street Terminal\n\n\nYo, yo, I live it and I speak it, my religion is reefer\nBig money and the most uninhibited freak to sleep with\nMy visions are realistic, nothing is figurative\nI can wish it into existing, God want this nigga to live\nBlunt big as a dread, I get high and forget who bled\nWho we stomp-kicked in the head and who we left for dead\nWho are you niggas? Why argue niggas?\nThe truth is the truth, I really put my scars on niggas\nThey wear them lifetime, they tell they hoes, Nas did this\nPointing to they scars like, right here, baby, really Nas did this\nLike a badge of honor, not bragging I'm just honest\nWar stories we tell them, nothing's realer than karma\nSip prohibition liquor, prohibition whiskey\nRap Jack Dempsey, matte black Bentley, pimply\nShattering your silence, passing round the chalice\nDue to my Indian ancestry at the weed dispensery\nOfficial kings and gents is who I mix and mingle with\nFuck your ice, I rock rubies, amethyst\nI'll fuck your wife 'cause she a groupie, scandalous\nThis for my bad hood bitches, ghetto glamorous\nYou might also like\nYo, what we talking 'bout niggas?\nWhat we talking 'bout niggas?\nThis is Nas, what, Nas\nWhat, Nasty, what, recollect motherfucker\n\nUhh, uhh, uhh\nAt seventeen I made seventeen thousand living in public housing\nIntegrity intact, repping hard\nThey asking how he disappear and reappear back on top\nSaying Nas must have naked pictures of God or something\nTo keep winning is my way like Francis\nAs long as I'm breathing, I'll take chances\nA soldier coming home, twenty years old with no legs\nSayin' there's no sense to cry and complain, just go 'head\nSo much to write and say, yo I don't know where to start\nSo I'll begin with the basics and flow from the heart\nI know you think my life is good 'cause my diamond piece\nBut my life been good since I started finding peace\nI shouldn't even be smiling, I should be angry and depressed\nI been rich longer than I been broke, I confess\nI started out broke, got rich, lost paper then made it back\nLike Trump being up down up, play with cash, huh\n\nMy nigga's like a locomotive\nNas, we pushed it, mush it\nQueensbridge to Bushwick\nHarlem, Bronx, all that\nYou ain't even supposed to be here\nYou know where you at?\nAt night, New York, eat a slice too hot\nUse my tongue to tear the skin hanging from the roof of my mouth\nShit was felicissimo melting pot, city sweltering hot\nStaggering, drunker than them cops that 2Pac shot\nI was a crook by the train with that iron thing, concealed reaching\nSoon as I heard them iron wheels screeching\nWhen it came to a halt whoever walked off got caught\nToken man safe behind a locked door for sure\nMinor thief shit, minor league shit, beasting\nLooking for the juks young, but now we older chiefing\nIn my truck, play The Greatest Adventures of Slick Rick\nBugging on how his imagination was so sick\nIt's ghetto beef, sinister niggas snicker through yellow teeth\nAlcohol aging my niggas faster than felonies\nHow dare I, must be, something in the air that corrupts me\nLook at my upkeep, owned and sublease\nI'm here y'all\n\nThis for my trapped in the 90s niggas\nFor my trapped in the 90s niggas\nHa for y'all niggas"}
{"text":"I know you can feel the magic, baby\nTurn the motherfuckin' lights down\nEsco, whattup? (Whattup, homie?)\nI mean, it's what you expected, ain't it? (Hahaha)\nLet's go... uhh, uh, uhh, uh, uhh, uh\nTurn the music up in the headphones\nUh, yeah, that's perfect (yeah, right, right)\nUhh, uh, you gotta take ya time, make a nigga wait on this muh'fucka (hahaha!)\nMake niggas mad and shit like\nNiggas usually just start rappin' after four bars, nigga, go in!\nJust start dancin' in this muh'fucka\nYeah, (yeah) we just come outta nowhere\n\nI feel like a Black Republican, money I got comin' in\nCan't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them\nCan't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him (nah)\nProbably end up back in the hood, like, \"Fuck it then\"\nHuddlin' over the oven, we was like brothers then (what?)\nThough you was nothin' other than a son of my mother's friend\nWe had covenant, who would've thought the love would end?\nLike Ice Cold's album (uhh), all good things\nNever thought we sing the same song that all hoods sang\nThought it was all wood-grain, all good brain\nWe wouldn't bicker like the other fools, talk good game\nNever imagine all the disaster that one good reign, could bring\nShould blame, the game, and I could\nIt's kill or be killed, how could I refrain?\nAnd forever be in debt, and that's never a good thing\nSo the pressure for success can put a good strain\nOn a friend you call best, and yes it could bring\nOut the worst in every person, even the good and sane\nAlthough we rehearsed it, it just ain't the same\nWhen you put in the game at age sixteen\nThen you mix things: like cars, jewelry, and Miss Thing\nJealousy, ego, and pride, and this brings\nIt all to a head like a coin, cha-ching\nThe root of evil strikes again, this could sting\nNow the team got beef between the Post and the Point\nThis puts the ring in jeopardy \u2013 indefinitely\nYou might also like\nI feel like a black republican, money I got comin' in\nCan't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them (uhh, uhh)\nCan't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him (nah)\nProbably end up back in the hood, I'm like, \"Fuck it then\"\nI feel like a black militant takin' over the government\nCan't turn my back on the hood, too much love for them (nah)\nCan't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him\nProbably end up back in the hood, I'm like, \"Fuck it then\"\n\nI'm back in the hood, they like, \"Hey Nas\" (uh)\nBlowin' on purp, reflectin' on they lives (uh)\nCouple of fat cats, couple of A.I.'s\nDreamin' of fly shit instead of them gray skies\nGray 5s, hatah's wishin' our reign dies\nPitch, sling pies, and niggas they sing, \"Why\"? (uhh)\nGuess they ain't strong enough to handle their jail time\nWeak minds keep tryin', follow the street signs\nI'm standing on the roof of my building\nI'm feelin' the whirlwind of beef, I inhale it\nJust like an acrobat ready to hurl myself, through the hoops of fire\nSippin' 80 proof, bulletproof under my attire\nCould it be the forces of darkness\nAgainst hood angels of good, that form street politics?\nMakes a sweet honest kid, turn illegal for commerce (uhh)\nTo get his feet out of them Converse \u2013 that's my word\nI feel like a black republican, money keep comin' in\nCan't turn my back on the hood, I got love for them (uhh, uhh)\nCan't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him (nah)\nProbably end up back in the hood, ah, \"Fuck it then\"\nI feel like a black militant takin' over the government\nCan't turn my back on the hood, too much love for them\nCan't clean my act up for good, too much thug in him\nProbably end up back in the hood, I'm like, \"Fuck it then\""}
{"text":"96 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easNobody Lyrics\n(Hit-Boy)\n\nOne city, one country, one state\nSome place to be nobody\nSome place to be\nSome place you wouldn't know probably\nYeah, yeah\n\nIf Chappelle moved to Ghana to find his peace then I'm rollin'\nWhere the service always roamin', I'm packin' my bags and goin'\nIt's a challenge in that, it's a balancin' act\nVisit beautiful places, there's more out here than the trap\nHouses in Long Island, they always found 'em\nHouse in the South, a nigga barely got out\nSunny L.A., rem\u0435mber calls with Dr. Dre\nHe told m\u0435, \"Don't let the palm trees fool you, nigga, be safe\"\nMe and my higher self, we often would speak\nSomehow we lost the connection, might meet at Joshua Tree\nAnd it's been bothering me, too many wavy women\nGotta log outta IG, can't be my age DM'in' (Haha)\nNo kiddin', it's hard to move like a civilian\nI write the truth 'cause I live it, not like you musical niggas\nWe did it big and they bigots, they'd rather shoot than write tickets\nWhat it feel like to go get it? What it feel like to go miss it?\nYou might also like\nIn one city, one country, one state\nSome place to be nobody\nSome place to be\nSome place you wouldn't know probably\nSome place to be nobody\n\nMy dawg bought a plane, said \"Let's go to Paris\"\nThat's where baguettes are from, French bread that's long and narrow\nI like the other definition, rectangular carats\nThe concept of this song is rather esoteric\nThis girl said in Grenada we should go get married\nBroke the meanin' down of the Virgin Mary\nAnd you got your own place, my favorite part of the night\nWhen you text me that you made it home safe (I'm home)\nI'm contemplatin' at the home base\nHow I'm used to breakfast in the ghetto, sippin' OJ\nThat's a picture right there, a moment in time\nBefore anybody wanted a photo of mine\nBefore the internet energy and social decline\nDestroyed the vibe, foolin' us with the headlines\n(Keepin' us blind) Vultures eat you alive\n(Take heed to the signs) Wishin' I'd find\n\nOne city, one country, one state\nSome place to be nobody\nSome place to be\nSome place you wouldn't know probably\nSome place to be nobody (Life)\nAll my time has been focused on my freedom now\nWhy would I join 'em when I know that I can beat 'em now?\nThey put their words on me, and they can eat 'em now\nThat's probably why they keep on tellin' me I'm needed now\nThey tried to box me out while takin' what they want from me\nI spent too many years livin' too uncomfortably\nMaking room for people who didn't like the labor\nBut wanted the spoils, greedy, selfish behavior\nNow let me give it to you balanced and with clarity\nI don't need to turn myself into a parody\nI don't, I don't do the shit you do for popularity\nThey clearly didn't understand when I said \"I Get Out\" apparently\nMy awareness like Keanu in The Matrix\nI'm savin' souls and y'all complainin' 'bout my lateness\nNow it's illegal for someone to walk in greatness\nThey want the same shh, but they don't take risks\nNow the world will get to see its own reflection\nAnd the anointed can pursue their own direction\nAnd if you're wrong and you're too proud to hear correction\nWalk into the hole you dug yourself, fuck a projection\nSee me in my freedom takin' all my land back\nThey said a lot against me thinkin' I'd just stand back\nI got my legs beneath me, I got my hands back\nA lot of people sabotaged, they couldn't stand that\nI turned the other cheek, I took blow after blow\nThere's so much crisis in the world 'cause you reap what you sow\nWhen you keep what you know is meant for someone else\nThe ditch you dig for them, you might just end up in yourself\nI'm in the secret place, I keep a sacred space\nThey keep showin' their hands, but keep hidin' their face\nIf I'm a messenger, you block me then you block the message\nSo aggressive, the world you made is what you're left with\nPride and ego over love and truth is fuckin' reckless\nY'all niggas got a death wish, the stupid leaves me breathless\nSome place to be, yeah\nAin't duckin' nothin'\nJust might have to build my own city\nWhere y'all need a real nigga passport to enter\nMs. Hill, we ain't goin' nowhere\nThey gon' have to deal with us\nMake 'em uncomfortable, hahaha, yeah"}
{"text":"(Bonjour) I should be more mature, sure, I'm spoiled\nHit up the south of France after tour, bonjour (Bonjour)\nHow many girls pre-bate right before they date\nSo she can have restraint? She still get slayed (Bonjour)\nThat's ill behavior, want the whip matted\nWant her ass the fattest, beat it: Thriller jacket\nA street metaphor: if your dog piss on the floor\nPut his nose in it, check these niggas from the door\n\nOoh ooh la la, oui-oui amour\nPlenty of kisses, plein de bisous\nGood day and best wishes\nComment allez-vous?\nBonjour\n\nEat at selective kitchens, speak on our next intentions\nOver-creamy Polenta, it come chef recommended (Bonjour)\nCome through the side entrance; I arrived, bitches\nCrackheads still owe me from '89 fixes (Bonjour)\nHavin' drinks in Vegas, my business\nShe didn't see me comin', now she's an eyewitness\nLaissez le bon temps rouler\nSay ahh so the kids could play\nYou might also like\nOoh ooh la la, oui-oui amour\nPlenty of kisses, plein de bisous\nGood day and best wishes\nComment allez-vous?\nBonjour\n\nVacation, twisted, whatever happened, missed it\nVacations I didn't like, put myself through a guilt trip (Bonjour)\nAll these beautiful places, but the cities be poor\nYou wealthy when your kid's upbringin' better than yours\nAll this money we gettin' could be gone in a minute\nIf we don't invest it\u2014we long-term affected\nWatch who you gettin' pregnant, that's long-term stressin'\nI got a mill' for every bump on your face, that's what I call a blessin'\nFlexin'\n\nMy head looks straight up\nAnd I'm wonderin', \"What did I do?\" (Bonjour)\nShe looked at me like, \"Damn, did I surprise you?\"\nSure enough, as the sky's blue, she turned back around\nAnd walked back down the avenue (Bonjour)\nShe's waitin' for the right cue (Bonjour)\nI'm waitin' for the right clue (Bonjour)\n(Ooh ooh la la, oui-oui amour)\nShe be leavin', still I smell of eau de parfum\nShe can't run 'cause I got Cinderella's right shoe\nIn that white gown that I be seein' right through\nCrowd obscurin' my view\nThere's nothin' left to argue (Bonjour)\nAt least there's not from my view (Bonjour)"}
{"text":"Uh, Wolf Haley, Golf Wang, go\n\nI'm a fuckin' walkin' paradox, no, I'm not\nThreesomes with a fuckin' triceratops, Reptar\nRappin' as I'm mockin' deaf rock stars\nWearin' synthetic wigs made of Anwar's dreadlocks\nBedrock, harder than a motherfuckin' Flintstone\nMaking crack rocks outta pussy nigga fishbones (Haha)\nThis nigga Jasper tryin' to get grown\nAbout five, seven of his bitches in my bedroom (Hey)\nSwallow the cinnamon, I'ma scribble this sin and shit\nWhile Syd is tellin' me that she's been getting intimate with men\n(Syd, shut the fuck up)\nHere's the number to my therapist (Shit)\nYou tell him all your problems, he's fuckin' awesome with listenin' (Haha)\n\nUh, Wolf Haley, uh, Golf Wang\nUh, Wolf Haley, Golf fuckin' Wang\nJesus called, he said he's sick of the disses\nI told him to quit bitchin', this isn't a fuckin' hotline\nFor a fuckin' shrink, sheesh, I already got mine\nAnd he's not fuckin' workin', I think I'm wastin' my damn time\nI'm clockin' three past six and goin' postal\nThis the revenge of the dicks, that's nine cocks that cock 9's\nThis ain't no V. Tech shit, or Columbine\nBut after bowling, I went home for some damn Adventure Time\n(What'd you do?) I slipped myself some pink Xannies (Yeah)\nAnd danced around the house in all-over print panties\nMy mom's gone, that fuckin' broad will never understand me\nI'm not gay, I just wanna boogie to some Marvin\n(What you think of Hayley Williams?)\nFuck her, Wolf Haley robbin' them\nI'll crash that fuckin' airplane that that faggot nigga B.o.B is in\nAnd stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn esophagus\nAnd won't stop until the cops come in\nI'm an overachiever, so how about I start a team of leaders\nAnd pick up Stevie Wonder to be the wide receiver? (Cool)\nGreen paper, gold teeth, and pregnant golden retrievers\nAll I want, fuck money, diamonds, and bitches, don't need 'em\nBut where the fat ones at? I got somethin' to feed 'em\nIt's some cooking books, the black kids never wanted to read 'em\nSnap back, green ch-ch-chia fuckin' leaves\nIt's been a couple months\nAnd Tina still ain't perm her fuckin' weave\nDamn\nYou might also like\nUh, Wolf Haley, uh, Golf Wang\nUh, Wolf Haley, Golf Wang, yeah\nGoddamn goblin\nWolf Haley, uh, Golf Wang\nUh, Wolf Haley, Golf Wang, yeah\nThey say success is the best revenge\nSo I beat DeShay up with the stack of magazines I'm in\nOh, not again, another critic writing report\nI'm stabbin' any bloggin' faggot hipster with a pitchfork\nStill suicidal, I am\nI'm Wolf, Tyler put this fuckin' knife in my hand\nI'm Wolf, Ace gon' put that fuckin' hole in my head\nAnd I'm Wolf, that was me who shoved a cock in your bitch\n(What the fuck, man?) Fuck the fame and all the hype, G\nI just wanna know if my father would ever like me\nBut I don't give a fuck, so he's probably just like me\nA motherfuckin' goblin\n(Fuck everything, man) That's what my conscience said\nThen it bunny-hopped off my shoulder, now my conscience dead\nNow the only guidance that I had is splattered on cement\nActions speak louder than words, let me try this shit\nDead"}
{"text":"For real, for real this time\nFor real, for real, for real this time\nBitch, I cannot fall short\nFor real, for real, for real this time (Uh, yeah)\nFor real, for real, for real this time\n\n'Cause you make my earthquake\nOh, you make my earthquake\nRiding around, your love be shakin\u2019 me up\nAnd it's making my heart break\n'Cause you make my earthquake (Earthquake, ooh)\nOh, you make my earthquake\nRiding around, your love be shakin\u2019 me up\nAnd it's making my heart break\n\nDon't leave, it's my fault\nDon't leave, it's my fault\nDon't leave, it's my fault (Girl)\n\u2019Cause when it all comes crashing down I\u2019ll need you\n\n'Cause you make my earthquake\nOh, you make my earthquake\nRiding around, you\u2019re telling me something is bad\nAnd it's making my heart break\n'Cause you make my earthquake, oh, you make my earthquake\n(Earthquake, yeah)\nRiding around, your love be shakin' me up\nAnd it\u2019s making my heart break (You already know)\nYou might also like\nWe ain't gotta ball, D. Rose, huh\nI don't give a fuck 'bout none', huh\nBreathin' like fuck my lungs, huh\nJust might call my lawyer, huh\nPlug gon' set me up, huh (Yeah)\nBih', don't set me up (Okay)\nI'm with Tyler, yuh (Slime)\nHe ride like the car, huh\nAnd she wicked, huh, yuh\nLike Woah Vicky, huh, yeah (Like Woah Vicky)\nOh my God, hold up, um\nThese diamonds not Tiffany, huh, yeah (Woah, woah)\nSo in love (I been so in love)\nSo in love (I been so in love)\n\nDon't leave, it's my fault (Fault)\nDon't leave, it's my fault\nDon't leave, it's my fault (Igor, ayy)\n'Cause when it all comes crashing down I'll need you (Ayy, ayy)\n\n'Cause you make my earthquake\nI don't want no confrontation, no\nAnd you don't want my conversation (I don't want no conversation)\nI just need some confirmation on how you feel, for real (For real)\nYou don't want no complication, no\nI don't want no side information (I don't want no side information)\nI just need to know what's happening\n'Cause I'm for real (For real)\nI said don't leave, it's my fault (One)\nI said don't leave, it's my fault (Two, two)\nDon't leave, it's, it's my fault, girl (Three, three, three)\nDon't, do-do-do-do-do, I'll need\u2014"}
{"text":"Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o-\nYou live in my dream state\nRelocate my fantasy\nI stay in reality\nYou live in my dream state\nAny time I count sheep\nThat's the only time we make up, make up\nYou exist behind my eyelids, my eyelids\nNow, I don't wanna wake up\n\n20\/20, 20\/20 vision\nCupid hit me, cupid hit me with precision, eye\nWonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind\nI said, I said\nI'm sick of, sick of, sick of, sick of chasing\nYou're the one that's always running through my daydreams, I\nI can only see your face when I close my eyes\nSo...\nCan I get a kiss?\nAnd can you make it last forever?\nI said I'm 'bout to go to war (Uh-huh)\nAnd I don't know if I'ma see you again\nCan I get a kiss? (Can I?)\nAnd can you make it last forever? (Can you?)\nI said I'm 'bout to go to war (I'm 'bout to)\nAnd I don't know if I'ma see you again\nUgh, switch it up\nYou might also like\nI said, okay, okay, okay, okey-dokey, my infatuation\nIs translating to another form of what you call it? (Love)\nOh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, I ain't met you, I've been looking\nStop the waiting 'fore I stop the chasing, like an alcoholic\n\"You don't understand me\"\u2014what the fuck do you mean?\nIt's them rose-tinted cheeks, yeah, it's them dirt-colored eyes\nSugar-honey iced tea, bumblebee on the scene\nYeah, I'd give up my bakery to have a piece of your pie\nUgh!\n\n20\/20, 20\/20 vision\nCupid hit me, cupid hit me with precision, eye\nWonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind\nI said, I said\nI'm sick of, sick of, sick of, sick of chasing\nYou're the one that's always running through my daydreams, I\nI can only see your face when I close my eyes\nSo...\nCan I get a kiss? (Can I get a kiss?)\nAnd can you make it last forever? (Make it last forever)\nI said I'm 'bout to go to war ('Bout to go to war)\nI don't know if I'ma see you again (See you again)\nCan I get a kiss? (Can I?)\nAnd can you make it last forever? (Can you?)\nI said I'm 'bout to go to war ('Bout to)\nAnd I don't know if I'ma see you again\nOkay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o\u2014\n(La la, la la la la, la la)\nOkay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o\u2014\n(La la, la la la, la la)\nOkay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o\u2014\n(La la, la la la la, la la\nLa la, la la la la)\nOne more time?"}
{"text":"Sometimes you gotta close a door to open a window\n\nI saw a photo, you looked joyous\nMy eyes are green, I eat my veggies\nI need to get her out the picture\nShe's really fuckin' up my frame\nShe's not developed like we are\n\nLike magic, like magic, like magic, gone\nNew magic, new magic, new magic wand (Ayy)\nLike magic, like magic, like magic, gone (Gone, nigga)\nNew magic (Woo), new magic, new magic wand\n\nMy buddy said I'm on the spectrum\nDon't call me selfish, I hate sharin'\nThis 60-40 isn't workin'\nI want a hundred of your time, you're mine\n\nPlease don't leave me now\nPlease don't leave me now (Don't leave)\nPlease don't leave me now\nPlease don't leave me now (Don't leave)\nPlease don't leave me now (Don't leave)\n(Like magic, like magic, like magic, gone)\nPlease don't leave me now (I can make her leave)\n(New magic, new magic, new magic wand)\nPlease don't leave me now (Don't leave)\n(Like magic, like magic, like magic, gone)\nPlease don't leave me now\n(New magic, new magic, new magic wand)\nYou might also like\nI wanna be found, passenger in your car (Don't leave)\nYou wanna give me mixed signals, don't park (I can make her leave)\nShe's gonna be dead, I just got a magic wand (Don't leave)\nWe can finally be together\n\nYou roll the dice, hit a seven, sure you right\nBeginner's luck? You not my first, who gives a fuck?\nYour other one? Evaporate, we celebrate\nYou under oath, now pick a side and if you don't\n(Run, run, run, run)\nI'll pick you both\n(Run, run, run, run)\nIt's not a joke, murder she wrote\n\nAyo, take one look in the mirror, implications so clear\nI live life with no fear, except for the idea\nThat one day you won't be here\nI will not fetch the ball\nEyes are green, I eat my vegetables\nIt has nothin' to do with that broad\nBut if it did, guarantee she'd be gone, well\nI got a plan, but the walkin' depends\nIf you can understand, I'm a hawk in the gym\nEyes on the prize, got weight on my chest\nThat I need to get off, I ain't talkin' to them\nCan't be in the picture if it got no frame\nAnd let the world know 'cause I ain't got no shame\nBlow the whole spot up, 'cause I ain't\u2014\nI wanna share last names, I wanna be your number one\nNot the other one, keep it on the low\nI'm in my right mind, keep it on a high\nJanis Joplin spillin' feelings, now I'm out here moppin' 'em\nFour on the floor, pack up your bags, we hit the store\nGrab our supplies, no need for masks, bust through the door\nGet the job done like retirement, I admit you look concerned\nNew magic wand"}
{"text":"I never would've thought that\nFeelings could get thrown in the air\n'Cause I accidentally caught that\nI need some new boxing gloves\nShit got hectic whenever I fought back\nFor example, ten minutes can't go past without you brushing my thoughts\nThat's fourteen forty a day so I'll say a hundred and forty-four times\nI think about you or something like that\nLost match, the fucking thought of you with somebody else\nI don't like that; cellular convos getting left in the wrong\n'Cause I get so fucking mad when you don't write back\nThis isn't a song, I just happen to rhyme when I get emo\nAnd find time to write facts, fuck\nI love you\nCan we add some more color, um, like, some more, yellow?\nYeah, that's good\n\nI fucking hate you, but I love you\nI'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled\nYou're good at being perfect\nWe're good at being troubled, yeah\nI fucking hate you, but I love you\nI'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled\nYou're good at being perfect\nWe're good at being troubled, yeah\nYou might also like\nGirl, you fucking with my emotions\nThe fuck is all this noise about?\nI even considered picking up smoking\nYou turned to a bitch, who let the dogs out?\nBut in my dog house\nMy bitch is the raddest\nCrazy who makes me the happiest can make me the saddest\nLook Alice, let's get lost in your wonder-er-land, fuck an atlas\nYou're perfectly perfect for me\nWhat the fuck is this, practice?\nActually, if you even consider leaving\nI'll lose a couple screws in due time, I'll stop breathin'\nAnd you'll see the meaning of stalkin'\nWhen I pop out the dark to find you\nAnd that new dude that you're seein' with an attitude\nThen proceed to fuck up your evenin'\nMake sure you never meet again like goddamn vegans\n'Cause when I hear your name, I cannot stop cheesin'\nI love you so much that my heart stops beatin' when you're leavin'\nAnd I'm grievin' and my heart starts bleedin'\nLife without you has no goddamn meanin'\nSorry, I'm passive-aggressive for no goddamn reason\nIt's that my mood change like these goddamn seasons\nI fall for you, but I love you\nI'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled\nYou're good at being perfect\nWe're good at being troubled\nYeah\n\nThe sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it\nThe sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it\nThe sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it tonight\nThe sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it\nThe sky's falling girl, let's try to catch it\nThe sky's falling bitch, let's try to catch it tonight\nC'mon baby, even though I hate you, I still love you\nI love you\nAnd Salem, my love (I know)\nI'm passive aggressive (I'm sorry, fuck)\n(Come here)\nI like when we hold hands\n(You're the best around)\nSee I get jealous (Fuck)\nAnd if I see that nigga (If I see him)\nI just might kill him, haha (Look)\n(Look, I wanna strangle you, 'til you stop breathing)\nLove, love, love\n(Spend the rest of my life, looking for air)\n(so you can breathe, or we can die together, you and me)\n(Fuck, look)\nI'm in love (Love)\nI fucking hate you, but I love you\nI'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled\nYou're good at being perfect\nWe're good at being troubled, yeah\nI fucking hate you, but I love you\nI'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled\nYou're good at being perfect\nWe're good at being troubled, yeah\n\n\"Yo, why is Samuel such a fucking dick?\"\n\"He isn't such a badass actually. He's only here because he ran away, because some shit happened back home. He's actually a dweeb\"\n\"Yo, what happened?\""}
{"text":"Golden rubbers in these denim pockets (Denim pockets)\nOn my waist, there's a black Glock (Black Glock)\nNew girl moved on the block (On the block)\nShe been plottin' on my brown cock (Brown cock)\nLast night, I slept over hers (Over hers)\nDuring sex, I overheard (I overheard)\nA sword sliced the air, I pulled out the na-na\nRolled off the bed, then shot back, pow-pow\nBlood on the sheets, probably spillin' from my gash\nLooked out the glass, seen him sprintin' on the grass\nA real ninja, with the blade and the mask\nHad them gold ninja stars, and red Supreme nunchuks\nNow, she tryna patch me up, but\nGirl, I was just tryna get a nut bust\nIf that's your ex, you should probably own a pistol\nBut I'm guessin' it's wiser to exit with dude\n\nThe blinds wide open so he can (Ooh)\nSee you in the dark when you're sleepin' (Ooh)\nNaked body, fresh out the shower\nAnd you touch yourself after hours (Ah, ah)\nAin't no man allowed in your bedroom (Ah, ah)\nYou're sleeping alone in bed (Ooh, ooh)\nBut check your window (Swag)\nHe's at your window\nYou might also like\nNight light hits off, turnin' kisses to bites\nI'm a down to Earth nigga with intentions that's right\nYou'll be down in Earth quicker if you diss me tonight\nBut I'll be the happiest if you decide to kick it tonight\nWe can chill and I can act like I don't wanna fuck\nYou can tell me all your problems like I really give one (Nope)\nBut I give two for us 'cause you're the one that I want\nDon't wanna seem like a punk pussy that simps over punk pussy\nSee, when I'm with my friends, I just put on a front\nBut in the back of my top, I'm writing songs about we\nWe, as including I, and yourself, making three\nLittle ones, the drums are hitting pretty hard if you ask me\nYou're a pretty broad in the top three\nOf things that I've been waiting to come, so\nMeet me by the lake around 10 and skinny dippin' and then\nWe can begin the pretend game, I wanna be Finn from Adventure Time\nThe blinds wide open so he can (Ooh; Yeah)\nSee you in the dark when you're sleepin' (Ooh)\nNaked body, fresh out the shower\nAnd you touch yourself after hours (Ah, ah)\nAin't no man allowed in your bedroom (Ah, ah)\nYou're sleeping alone in bed (Ooh, ooh)\nBut check your window\nHe's at your window\nOne, two; you're the girl that I want\nThree, four, five, six, seven; shit\nEight is the bullets if you say no after all this\nAnd I just couldn't take it, you're so motherfuckin' gorgeous\nGorgeous, baby, you're gorgeous (Ooh)\nI just wanna drag your lifeless body to the forest (Ooh-ooh)\nAnd fornicate with it\nBut that's because I'm in love with you, cunt\nI just wanna talk, and conversate\n'Cause I usually just stalk you and masturbate\nAnd I finally got the courage to ask you on a date\nSo just say yes, let the future fall into place (Cunt)\nI just wanna talk and conversate\n'Cause I usually just stalk you and masturbate\nAnd I finally got the courage to ask you on a date\nSo just say yes, let the future fall into place, cunt\nThe blinds wide open so he can (Ooh)\nSee you in the dark when you're sleepin' (Ooh)\nNaked body, fresh out the shower\nAnd you touch yourself after hours (Ah, ah)\nAin't no man allowed in your bedroom (Ah, ah)\nYou're sleeping alone in bed (Ooh, ooh)\nBut check your window\nHe's at your window\nThe blinds wide open so he can (Ooh)\nSee you in the dark when you're sleepin' (Ooh)\nNaked body, fresh out the shower\nAnd you touch yourself after hours (Ah, ah)\nAin't no man allowed in your bedroom (Ah, ah)\nYou're sleeping alone in bed (Ooh, ooh)\nHe's at your window\nOne, two; you're the girl that I want\nThree, four, five, six, seven; shit\nEight is the bullets if you say no after all this\nAnd I just couldn't take it, you're so motherfuckin' gorgeous\nGorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous"}
{"text":"\n(Call me, call me, call me) Uh\n(Call me, call me, call me) Uh\n(Call me, call me, call me) Uh\n(Call me, call me, call me)\n(Call me) How you doin'?\n(Call me) My name is Lonely, nice to meet you\nHere's my number\nYou can reach me, woo!\n\n(Call me)\n911, call me some time\n(You should call me)\n911, call me some time\n\nAw, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nMy thirst levels are infinity and beyond\nSippin' on that lemonade, I need a Beyonc\u00e9\nCan't see straight, these shades are C\u00e9line Dion\nSucks you can't gas me up, shout out to Elon\nMusk, yeah, I got a sold-out show\nCrowd wild out but don't matter 'cause you not front row\nI've been lookin' for a keeper, listen to the speaker\nIf you fit description, hit me on my beeper\nAt that 911\nYou might also like\nCall me some time (ring, ring, ring)\nPlease bang my line, you know I'll answer (click)\nCall me some time (ring, ring, ring)\nPlease bang my line\n\nCall me\n911, call me some time\nYou should call me\n911, call me some time\n911, (you should call me, oh)\n911, (you should call me)\n\nChirp, chirp\nChirp, chirp\nWoke up in the 'burbs, 'burbs, with the birds, birds\nWhere you used to come and get me with the swerve, swerve\nThese days you gotta find time\nEven the nightline\nWork line\nDial nine\n\nFive car garage\nFull tank of the gas\nBut that don't mean nothing, nothing\nNothin', nothin', without you shotgun in the passenger\nI'm the loneliest man alive\nBut I keep on dancing to throw 'em off\nI'm gon' run out of moves 'cause I can't groove to the blues\nIf you know any DJs, tell 'em to call me at 911...\n\nI can't even lie, I've been lonely as fuck\nOld lonely ass nigga\nI can't even lie, I've been lonely as fuck\nForreal, you need to go somewhere, like, get some bitches or something\nI can't even lie, I've been lonely as fuck\nOld weird ass nigga\nI can't even lie, I've been\nLonely, lonely, lonely, lonely\n\nThey say the loudest in the room is weak\nThat's what they assume, but I disagree\nI say the loudest in the room\nIs prolly the loneliest one in the room (That's me)\nAttention seeker, public speaker\nOh my God, that boy there is so fuckin' lonely (Woo)\nWritin' songs about these people\nWho do not exist, he's such a fuckin' phony (Woo)\nOne thing I know, is that I wanna\nWin so bad, but I'm not Chicago\nMy heart is low, it's real low, it's so low\nYou can't lift me up, I'm like Gallardo\nFrom the start it's been real dark\nIt's been so dark, I guess that you could call me charbroiled, huh (Hahaha)\nI'm playin' like Hasbro\nI'm really Saari, call me Arto\nCrashed the McLaren, bought me a Tesla\nI know you sick of me talkin' 'bout cars (Skrrt)\nBut what the fuck else do you want from me?\nThat is the only thing keepin' me company\nPurchase some things until I'm annoyed\nThese items is fillin' the void (Void)\nBeen fillin' it for so long\nI don't even know if it's shit I enjoy (Ohh, woo)\nCurrent battle as an adult\nMy partner is a shadow\nI need love, do you got some I could borrow?\nFuck it, I could find some tomorrow\nBut that never comes (Nah)\nLike a vasectomy, what have I done? (Ohh)\nI got the talent, the face and the funds\nFound myself long ago but I haven't found someone (Who)\nMirror, mirror on the wall (Who)\nThe loneliest of them all (Me)\nCupid actin' stupid\nDo you got another number I could call?\nNever had a pet\nI never had a pet\nThere's more fish in the sea\nBut I never had a goldfish to begin with\nI never had a dog\nSo I've never been good with bitches\n'Cause I never threw a ball, fetch\nI never had a pet, that's where it stems from, I bet\nTreat me like direct deposit (-Posit)\nCheck in on me sometime (Okay)\nAsk me how I'm really doin'\nSo I never have to press that 911\nOhh!\nOhh Shit!\nFuck!\nOhh!\nShit!\nOhh!\nDamn! Damn!"}
{"text":"Yo, who dat boy? Who him is?\nHim that ni-gga, I swear\nStand out guy, him don't need no chair\nWell, where the fuck him at? 'Cause nigga, I'm right here\nI don't shop at the mall, all y'all just\nDumb mothafucka, I'm a goddamn artist\nYou can give me some markers and I'll draw you a closet\nAnd you know that it's GOLF, bitch, gonna make the deposit\nNigga fresh to death like he got dressed in a coffin\nCons, overalls, and a striped shirt\nThe boy drips swag like a broken faucet\nIt's runnin', nigga, I'm runnin' shit\nThat cherry be the bomb like he ran in Boston\nWon't stop 'til the cops surround him\nOne nigga jiggy and the other awesome\nWith his fuckin' face blown off, that's how they found him\nIt's Young T\n\nWho dat boy? Who him is?\nWho dat boy? Who him is?\nNigga, who dat boy? Who him is?\nWho dem boys? Nigga, who dem is, nigga?\nWhy you niggas feel like that?\nMad 'cause a nigga neck chill like that\nYou mad 'cause a nigga push wheel like that?\nWhy you puttin' bad vibes in the air like that?\nNigga, who dem boys?\nYou might also like\nWho dem is? Nigga, who dem is?\nWho else step in this bitch this jig?\nWho else your bitch say got a bick this big?\nWho else came through with a wrist this flick?\nNigga, Guess my pants, do my dance\nSpin around, bitch, you could kiss my ass\nNever seen a nigga in this much Raf\nStill doin' math when I miss my class\nWas it Summertime '06, had the Number (N)ine\nNigga, never mind, was another time before Vince\nHad the Gucci gold tips with the letterman\nNigga, dollar sign was my favorite number at the time\nFresh freshmen 'til they skipped my ass\nSenior citizen, don't forget my pass\nBeen that nigga and you knew that there\nMake the dick disappear, how she do that there?\n\nWho dat boy? Who him is?\nWho dat boy? Who him is?\nNigga, who dat boy? Who him is?\nWho dem boys? Nigga, who dem is, nigga?\nWhy you niggas feel like that?\nMad 'cause a nigga's neck chill like that\nYou mad 'cause a nigga push wheel like that?\nWhy you puttin' bad vibes in the-?\nFuck the rap, I'm tryna own a planet\nFrom my other fuckin' business ventures\nThese niggas these days\nActin' like some bitches, like they're fuckin' with ya (yeah)\nTeeth is glistenin', Jesus, Christmas\nHe just shittin', she exquisite, bitches be expensive\n(Yeah, let 'em know, nigga) And I don't even need attention\nWANG$AP on the bumper sticker, fuck you niggas\nFuck global warming, my neck is so fr\u00edo\nI'm currently lookin' for '95 Leo\nMy mom say she worried because I'm so ill\nI should stay in bed, but got too much bread\nTo make, she said watch my weight\nSo I stayed home and start eatin' some meals\nGet out of my way g\u00fcey, boy, that's McLaren\nThat's 0 to 60 in 2 point nueve, I'm gone\n\nOh, fuck"}
{"text":"\nComparing scars before dinner\nJump off the roof into the mirror\nFelt like summer to my December\nWas it my August? Shit, I don't remember\n(Two, three, go)\nI know my temperature was set\nYou finally flew south\nThe bird gon' leave the nest, you're so chromatic\nAt least I had it (Uh)\nInstead of never\nOr maybe I'm too dramatic\n(Two, three, go)\n\nWhether it's rain or shine, I know I'm fine for now\nMy love's gone, my love's gone\nMy love's gone, oh, gone\n(Two, three, go)\nOr maybe it's just a dream that I can't seem to wake up from\nMy love's gone, my love's gone\nMy love's gone, gone\n\nGone, gone, gone, gone, gone\nYou might also like\nI know love is, is all I got\nI just hope to God she got good taste\nCould put you on some shit you never seen\nCould play a couple songs that you could dance to\nI hope you know she can't compete with me\n\nWhether it's rain or shine, I know I'm fine for now\nMy love's gone, my love's gone\nMy love's gone, oh, gone\nOr maybe it's just a dream that I can't seem to wake up from\nMy love's gone, my love's gone\nMy love's gone, oh, gone\n\nYou kept me goin', the Band-Aid is falling off now (Keep)\nYou kept me goin', the Band-Aid is falling off now (Keep)\nYou keep me goin', the Band-Aid is falling off now (Gone, gone, gone)\nGoing away, and now I'm scarred for life\n\nMy love is gone (Gone), my love is gone (Gone)\nMy love is gone (It's gone), my love is gone\n\n(My love is gone)\nAyo, it's poison in that gumbo\nEmotion, feel Dumbo\nAsk me where my love go\nThat bitch walked outside the front door\n(My love is gone)\nKnock, knock, knock, knock\nI'm not shocked, I brought this on me\nIt's my fault, you gon' leave\nLesson taught, see\nThe weatherman told me it wasn't rainin'\nMy stupid ass brought umbrellas\nI got a glimpse of your cloud and felt better\nNow it's 90 degrees, and all the tricks up my sleeve\nIs drenched in sweat and delusion because I jet to conclusions\nYou got your thing, I got nothing but memories\nI know your secrets, nigga (Yeah)\nI'm not bitter or nothing, I understand that\nEverybody making a choice according to plan and\nWe had two different blueprints, but understood influence\nYou opened up early on, I thought I had a permit\nYou started buildin' a bridge and turned it into a fence\nThen my buildin' got tore down all because of your new tenant\nI'll just buy up some new shit, never down with a lease\nYou never lived in your truth, I'm just happy I lived in it\nBut I finally found peace, so peace\n(Want me do it over? Everything)\nI hate wasted potential, that shit crushes your spirit\nIt really does, it crushes your soul\n\nThank you for the love\nThank you for the joy\nBut I don't ever wanna fall in love again\nThank you for the time\nThank you for your mind, mind\nBut I don't ever wanna fall in love again\n\n(Got my eye)\nI said go, go\n\nThank you for the love\nThank you for the joy\nBut I don't ever wanna fall in love again\nThank you for the time\nThank you for your mind, mind\nBut I don't ever wanna fall in love again\nAgain, again\nAgain, again\n(Got my eye)"}
{"text":"La, la, la, la, la, la, la\nAAAAHHH!\n\nSatan's getting jealous of the wolves, the demons say they preferring us\nBooks on not giving a fuck is what they're referring us (Wolf Gang!)\nWolves, I know you heard of us, we're murderers\nAnd young enough to get the fucking priest to come and flirt with us (Bitch!)\nYou niggas rap about fucking bitches and getting head\nInstead, I rap about fucking bitches and getting heads\nWhile you niggas stacking bread, I can stack a couple dead\nBodies, making red look less of a color, more of a hobby\nI'm not a rapper, nor a rapist, nor a racist\nI fuck bitches with no permission and tend to hate shit\nBrag about the actions in a rhyming pattern matter\nThen proceed to sat her down when I go splatter in her chatterbox\nAtta boy, Odd Future, you're not in our categore\nTorture with the super soaker at the Asian liquor store\nThis the type of shit that make a Chris Brown want to kick a whore\nThat make songs about the wet blockers when it rains and pours (Umbrella)\nI hate this, screaming, \"Fuck patience!\"\nGot a nigga shaking like the calmest, fucking Haitian\nAfter chronic masturbation, asking where Mary Kate went\nI want to be the reasons why all lesbians hate dick\nI make this damn Bullwinkle the red moose\nGame of duck-duck-duct tape with a dead goose\nShe running 'round this motherfucking dungeon, her legs loose\nUntil I accidentally get the saw to her head, oops\nVictim, victim, honey, you're my fifth one\nHoney on that topping when I stuff you in my system\nRape a pregnant bitch and tell my friends I had a threesome\nYou got a fucking death wish? I'm a genie, it'll get done\nNice to meet you, but it's more pleasant to eat you\nWith a leaf of salad and some dressing pouring out a teacup\nBitch, I'm Tyler, The Creature, suck your feet up like a beach of leeches\nRubber more than the fucking bottom of a sneaker\nJeeper the fucking creeper, get your daughter and keep her\nIn the jeeps where the Wolf Gang rides around deeper\nTake her to Ladera, now she's scared and you're embarrassed\nFilled with terror, chop her legs off and tell her to run some errands\nPut her eyes in a canteen, take her to the Berrics\nStare at Steve, say it costs ten to fuck Eric\nPut her in the lake, her body sinks great, now it's time to fish her like Derek\nSatan says we're dangerous, we're trading kids for angel dust\nAnd snuff and sniff, and now that Michael Jackson's trying to suck our dick\nHippopot the fucking llamas, dead bodies, cheerleading squaders\nGave the team a bunch of fucking bees and the Keke Palmer\nThey will never catch him or catch up\nThey asked me what it was, I told them fuckers it was ketchup\nNutty like my Chex mix, she bleeding from her rectum\nOdd Future wolves stirring ruckus, throwing sets up, yeah (Wolf Gang)\nThis the type of shit that make children break in apartments\nWhen you tell a fucking orphan you don't love them 'til they heart thin\n(I hate you!) Starve her 'til I carve her then I shove her in the Rover\nWhere I cut her like a barber with a Parkinson's disorder\nStore her in a portable freezer with me to Portland\nCatch me with a bunch of fucking Mexicans crossing the border (arriba!)\nI'll be the only wetback who ain't really touched the water\nCause I'll be too fucking busy tryna flirt with Jesus' daughter\n(Fuck Mary) I'm awesome, and I fuck dolphins\nSicker than the starving Nigerian kids barfing\nOdd Future Wolf Gang Nazi bar mitzvah\nWith your sister at the bar playing leg and arm twister\nEvident that I'm the shit, I'm the Pooh like Tigger dick\nI got these cracker doctors saying, \"yeah Bob, this nigga\u2019s sick\"\nAnimal safari, if I offend you I'm sorry\nBecause I'm the blackest skinhead since India Arie\nI don't smoke weed, so no need for the matches\nI said fuck coke and now I'm snorting Hitler's ashes\nI plan on either dying for suicide or my asthma\nBeing the only bastard in a box logo casket\nRashes on my dick from licks of shishkabob Sagets\nIn some Kanye West glasses screaming out \"fuck faggots\"\nCatch me in my attic taking photos of my dad's dick\nDrop the beat here to make it extra climactic\nYou might also like\nWhat the fuck?\nI... I'm speechless, that was... fuck\nShit, Tyler, you're gonna need some help\nI'm not a... fuck it, different subject\nHow's that girl you were telling me about?"}
{"text":"\"I'm saying, you know, like. All I ever told you to do was grow up, don't grow down. You know, like, you know, grow up. Don't grow down, grow out. You go from being a kid, just doing your thing, hanging out with your friends. Months later you're world-famous. You're a gay rights activist, and you don't even know it. You know what, I don't wanna say it to you no more, Tyler. Fuck you, Tyler!\"\nWatch me get this money, nigga; tired of being hungry, nigga\nNothing funny, sass me while I'm thrashing, I'ma punch a nigga\nNever made of plastic, I'm a savage -- you look lunch, my nigga\nPassing all you hating fucking fags we don't discuss, my nigga\nWe ain't on no jolly shit and we don't pop no Mollies, bitch\nI'm hocking, spitting got some niggas out here popping Ollie switch\nBuncha novices, Odd Future the squad is thick\nThem young niggas is back and brash, attacking with no common sense\nWe the last of a dying breed\nAnd we don't give a fuck, so we cannot supply your needs\nYou stupid niggas who had said our hype is dying, please\nMy pockets solid, making profit off the highest tees\nBitch, merch twerk as I get on the verse, cursing\nNigga Dom so cool, I refer him in third person\nWatch me get this money, I'm up when the birds chirping\nMake actions, fuck rehearsing\n\nNigga, summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five\nYou niggas gon' give me mine, I don't have plenty time\nFlying out at any time, getting money, any grind\nYou niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine\nSummer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five\nYou niggas gon' give me mine, 'cause I don't have plenty time\nFlying out at any time, getting money, any grind\nYou niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine\nYou might also like\nIn a world where kids my age are popping Mollies with leather\nSitting on Tumblr, never outside or enjoying the weather\nCan name a sweater, but not a talent or don't know if whether\nOr not they got one, tried to change their life for the better\nI was the drama club kid, I run where the fun did, my nuts itched\nI was defiant, always said, \"Fuck shit\"\nHated the popular ones, now I'm the popular one\nAlso hated homes too, til I start coppin' me some\nSee I don't beez in the trap, nigga, I beez in the b's\nAnd I be gassing up my buzz like some bees at a Shell\nFucking sick and getting bigger like I sneezed on Adele\nAnd bitches getting touchy-feely like they reading some Braille\nI bust quick like gun-holders with short tempers, and well\nI tried to tell the kids, like fuck it, start being yourself\nThese fucking rappers got stylists cause they can't think for themselves\nSee, they don't have an identity, so they needed some help, but\nReally, boy? Posers looking silly, boy\nI'm in that past season 'Preme shit, older than Tity Boi\nNot a diss, but same with ice cream, my shit is Diddy Riese\nNa'kel Smith, Transworld page 64\nPoppin' like oil ollie in fire flames\nI'm harder than DJ Khaled playing the fucking quiet game\nThe fuck am I saying? Tyler's not even a violent name\nAbout as threatening as stained windbreakers in hurricanes\nBut he rapes women, and spit wrong, like he hates dentists\nGod damn menace, 666 and he's not finished\nAnd my shit's missing, he hates women, but love kittens?\nSee y'all niggas tripping, man\nLook at that article that says my subject matter is wrong\nSaying I hate gays even though Frank is on 10 of my songs\nLook at that Mom who thinks I'm evil, hold that grudge against me\nThough I'm the reason that her motherfucking son got to eat\nLook at the kid who had the .9 and tried to blow out his mind\nBut talk is money, I said, \"Hi,\" I guess I bought him some time\nLook at the ones in the crowd -- that shit is barnacles, huh?\nThey thought I wasn't fair until I threw a carnival, huh?\nBut then again, I'm an atheist that just worships Satan\nAnd it's probably why I'm not getting no fucking album placements\nAnd MTV could suck my dick, and I ain't fuckin' playing\nBruh, they never played it, I just won shit for they fucking ratings\n\"Analog\" fans are getting sick of the rape\nAll the \"Tron Cat\" fans are getting sick of the lakes\nBut what about me, bitch? I'm getting sick of complaints\nBut I don't hate it when I'm taking daily trips to the bank\nOh but no but, shit, who really gives a fuck what I think?\nMy fans don't, they turning on me, shit, they're almost extinct\nFuck buying studio time, I'ma go purchase a shrink\nRecord the session and send all you motherfuckers a link, bitch\nNigga, summer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five\nYou niggas gon' give me mine, I don't have plenty time\nFlying out at any time, getting money, any grind\nYou niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine\nSummer, fall, wintertime, twenty-four, three-sixty-five\nYou niggas gon' give me mine, I don't have plenty time\nFlying out at any time, getting money, any grind\nYou niggas gon' give me mine, you niggas gon' give me mine\n\nThis shit just like the nights I look forward to not remembering\nSo much for being sober, I hope that you can forgive me\nBut Momma, I'm close to the edge as possible (Why don't you jump, you fucking pussy?)\nAll I\u2019m seeing is the drop in my ocular, jumping like they told me\nThat the 40's half off, like you know that cliff\nDon't need a therapist to tell him he could float that shit (Fucking faggot)\nOr get compared to fucking pair with all the program kids\nSo maybe a pair of pale bitches for the gonads lick (I'll show you)\nMalt liquor filling me up, and all us not giving no fucks and\nAll of them sensitive chumps in awe when that pistol erupts (Pistol, I got one!)\nDirty one spitting that sumpy raw till his wrists in the cuffs\nBrother the Pigeons is us\nBid you goodnight and good luck\n(Oh, shut the fuck up!)\n(Gunshot)\nSamuel's here! Where's Wolf? Fucking faggot. Salem was mine, bitch! Was that good enough, you fucking pussy?"}
{"text":"(Four, four, four, four)\n(Four, skate, four, skate, four, skate, four, skate)\n\nI don't know where I\u2019m going (Skate)\nBut I know what I'm showing (Four)\nFeelings, that's what I\u2019m pouring (Skate)\nWhat the fuck is your motive? (Four)\nMan, I wish you would call me (Skate)\nBy your name 'cause I'm sorry (Four)\nThis is not apology (Skate)\nYou are such a distraction (Four)\nThat's what T on, aw (Skate)\nFuckin' up my ambiance, pause (Four)\nYou drive me cuckoo and not car (Skate)\n'Cause I want you like Leon Ware (Fuck that)\nOkay, say again it (Fuck that)\nOkay, wait a minute (Woah)\nI dread that shit, I am Anwar (Skate)\nCuriosity killed the feline, gone (Four, skate)\n\nI think I've fallen in love (Skate)\nThis time I think it's for real (Four, skate)\nI think I\u2019ve fallen in love (Four, skate)\nThis time I think it\u2019s for real (Four)\nHow can I tell you? (Skate) How can I tell you? (Four)\nHow can I tell you? (Skate) How can I tell you? (Four)\nHow can I tell you? (Skate) How can I tell you? (Four)\nHow can I tell you? (Skate) How can I tell you? (Four)\nYou might also like\nI notice that you're there, but I\u2019m always in your hair\nAnd you're always under my microscope (Four)\n\nWaste of bread, I need your attention (Skate)\nI'm off balance, I need some fixin' (Four)\nI\u2019m your puppet, you are Jim Henson (Skate, four)\n\nFallen in love now (Skate)\nI think I've fallen in love (Four)\nFell in love now (Skate)\nThis time I think it's for real (Four)\nI think I'm in love now (Skate)\nI think I've fallen in love (Four)\nI think I'm in love now (Skate)\nThis time I think it's for real (Four, four)\nHow can I tell you? (Shut the fuck up)\nHow can I tell you? (Four)\nHow can I tell you? (You fuckin' bitch)\nHow can I tell you? (Four)\nHow can I tell you? (Skate)\nHow can I tell you? (Four)\nHow can I tell you?\nTake 'em to the bridge\n(Four, four, four)\nFour, four, four, four (Four, skate)\nI think I've fallen in love (Four)\nFell in love now (Skate)\nThis time I think it's for real (Four)\nI think I'm in love now (Skate)\nI think I've fallen in love (Four, skate)\nThis time I think it's for real (Oh, oh, yeah, yeah)\n\n(Four, skate, four, skate)"}
{"text":"Tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale, tamale!\n\nThey say I've calmed down since the last album\nWell, lick my dick, how does that sound? Um\nSmell my gooch, you could kiss my buns\nAnd I don't give a shit, bend my rectum\nSomebody said bands make her dance\nYou think you're getting cash, no, bitch, you're dumb\nThe only thing that you're gonna get is this dick\nWait, turn this up, bitch, this my jam (Where the drums at?)\nHere, take a goddamn picture\nAnd tell Spike Lee he's a goddamn nig\u200bger\nAnd while you're at it, pass the lotion\nAnd fapping and Xbox Live, that fun\nBefore I cum, I call your sister\nWhen she comes over, I take picture\nInstantly put it on Instagram\nAnd suplex her off a building if I get banned\n(I'm just fucking around)\n\nTamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!\nWhy y'all so salty?\nHot tamale is on\nA can of beans, bitch, I'm on\nYour boy is bad to the bone\nYou might also like\nBring back the horns that was played in the beginning\nAnd tell Tony Parker that I found his vision\nAnd if he's tripping off my sneak dissing (Uh)\nThen he has to deal with me and my minions\nTryna get a Bimmer, E46\nHave you heard \"48\"? Motherfucker, I'm great (Yeah)\nGolf Wang prints always cover the sleeves\nFrom cuts for the Biebs, 'cause he's puffin' the trees, please\nFuck I look like? Got a new bike\nTire never pop like the puss on a butch dyke\nThink I give a fuck, I do, I go raw\nThen I bust in her jaw like (Fuck that disease, bitch!)\nMy urethra, hole that I pee from\nBigger than the obese neck on Aretha\nNow turn that snare down, I'm back like I'm Rosa Parks fare\nOn the same damn bus like, \"You're going to jail now\"\nTamale! Tamale! Tamale! Tamale!\nWhy y'all so salty?\nHot tamale is on\nA can of beans, bitch, I'm on\nYour boy is bad to the bone\n\nHow much wood could a woodchuck chuck\nIf a woodchuck could ever give a fuck? Bitch, suck dick\nMotherfuck' you and your opinions\n(Can you kick it?) Yes, I can sir, where the lump is\nSicker than the last bar bold-er, I'm a CO\nColorado, fuck Michael, bitch, I'm badder than my BO\nFind me and Lance tryna dance during chemo\nBefore they repossess our strong arm bands and tuxedos\nYeah, buddy, this is my jam, na, na, na, na, na, na, na!\nGolf Wang, Golf Wang, no, fuck you, na, na, na, na, na, na!\nWhy y'all so salty?\nHot tamale is on\nA can of beans, bitch, I'm on\nYour boy is bad to the bone\n\nHow many fags can a lightbulb screw?\nWell, if it has a dick, maybe two or six\nAnd tell the NRA I'm about to lose my shit\nAnd shoot through Wayne LaPierre's hair with a crucifix\nHow many ladies in the house?\nHow many ladies in the house without a rich nigga, huh?\nA little Jergens in my palm for the jerkin'\nHope my mom don't catch me\nTryna set mood, little RedTube, fuck lotion\nI don't need lube, dry fist suits me (Yeah)\nUp and down, friction make a *fap fap* sound\nThe shit's kind of disgusting, fap time\nAnd before I flatline, Clancy chimes in my room and catch me\nThis shit's so damn embarrassing, like\u2014\n\nOh, shit, aw, fuck\nWhat the fuck?\nAw, I'm sorry\nIs that my shirt?\nYeah, I'm sorry, I wanted some bangs\nClean that shit up, we're going to the office!\nFuck"}
{"text":"Yo, yo, fuck 2DopeBoyz and fuck Nah Right\nAnd any other fuck-nigga-ass blog that can't put an 18 year old nigga\nMaking his own fucking beats, covers, videos and all that shit\nFuck you post-Drake-ass cliche-jerking, LA-Slauson rapping\nFuck-nigga-ass Hypebeast niggas, now back to the album\nWell, Tyler, hi, I'm Dr. TC and um, I'm guessing that your teacher sent you here to talk 'cause you were misbehaving\nUm, it's gonna be three sessions: today, tomorrow, and the next day\nSo, just tell me something about yourself...\nWell, look, if, if you don't talk, I mean, these sessions are going to go slower, so-\n\nThis is what the devil plays before he goes to sleep\nSome food for thought? This food for death, go 'head and fucking eat\nMy father's dead, well, I don't know, we'll never fucking meet\nI cut my wrist and play piano 'cause I'm so depressed\nSomebody call the pastor, this bastard is so possessed\nThis meeting just begun, nigga, I'm Satan's son\n\nMy mother raised me, a single parent, so it's apparent\nThat I got love for my mother, none of you other fuckers\nAre much important, I'm getting angrier while recording\nI'm feeling like the bulls, I've got a gang of wolves\nOdd Future is children that's fucked up in they mental\nSimple, but probably not, fuck em\nYou might also like\nI'm tall, dark, skinny, my ears are big as fuck\nDrunk white girls: the only way I'll get my dick sucked\nSuspended from school, coolest nigga without effort\nEasy to spot, like black bitches with fake leopard\nSoak me up in a tampon, but keep the lamp on\n'Cause this album pack enough evil\nThat you can't fit inside a Jansport\nGo to school with this\n\nI go from AP to JC inside a fucking week\nWaking up with random girls like \"Yo, bitch, how the fuck we meet?\"\nI stay with grandma, she always bitching about her carpet\nEvery time I walk inside the house, she always tend to start shit\nNo to drugs, I never spark it, I used to be bullied for honor classes\nBy those that were slow as molasses\nTake this shit to school\n\nRaquel treat me like my father, like a fucking stranger\nShe still don't know I made \"Sarah\" to strangle her\nNot put her in danger and chop her up in the back of a Wrangler\nAll because she said no to homecoming, demons running\nInside my heads telling me evil thoughts\nI'm the dream catcher but nothing but nightmares are caught, go to sleep\nI wear green hats because I'm fortunately lucky\n\"Fuck me,\" the monster said, somehow the monster's dead\nInside of me, but the thoughts it tells me are still evil\nWith this state of mind, big moves, Max Keeble\nI'm on my grind feeble, my music is either\nA fucking sin or too illegal, play this shit in church\n\nI graduated without honors or fucking father\nHe died (I'm so sorry) No bitch, don't even fucking bother\nI wanted a brother, my mother I told her\nBut instead I got a sister, just like me with her mister nada\nSo both of our imaginations are creations of the fucking situation\nThat's having our brains racing like Dayton\nWearing some fucking Heelys\n\nI know you fucking feel me, I want to fucking kill me\nBut times I'm so serious, you think I'm silly\nI'm doing Big Style Willy couldn't touch 11\nSeven, what's religion nigga? I am legend\nI roll with skaters and musicians with an intuition\nI created O.F. cause I feel we're more talented\nThan 40 year old rappers talking about Gucci\nWhen they have kids they haven't seen in years\nImpressing their peers\nWith the same problem, the only way to solve them\nIs to go to Father's Day convention with a gold revolver\nLife's a salad, I'm a toss it, eat that shit up, Rick Ross it\nShit it out, bag it up, sell it, I'm so damn rebellious\nCause my mother let me do what I want\nShe wasn't careless, protective she is the bear\nThe shit is so bare, my diary isn't hid\nMy father didn't give a fuck, so it's something I inherit\nMy mom is all I have so it's never meet the parents\nWhen Danielle or Milan decide to fucking share\nThis confused boy, I wanna hug, oy\nI\u2019m bad for your kids to listen to, soy is not the choice\nI'm bad milk, drink it\nWhoa, umm, it seems you had a lot to say\nUh, who knows I might feel as I'm evaluating\n\nMy wrist is all red from the cutter\nDripping cold blood like the winter, the summer\nIs never that's equivalent to me and Sarah\nWell that's not her fucking name, but I think this shit is clever\nMy niggas wanna know if I'm fucking, if I'm kissing\nBut I'm sitting here downing beers simply just wishing\nWith a tear they try to tell me but I never listen\n'Cause I don't give a shit like sitting down pissing\nEighteen, still talking to imaginaries\nHopefully they see the talent I carry just like Jimmy\nLosers can never win me, you can never offend me\nMy goal in life is a Grammy, hopefully mom'll attend the\nCeremony with all my homies, I'm suicidal\nThis my Zombie Circus, I hope the majors heard this\nFuck a deal, I just want my father's email\nSo I can tell him how much I fucking hate him in detail\n\nWow, umm\nSo, Tyler, if you had the chance to tell him something\nWhat would you tell him?"}
{"text":"Swag, 2011\nYoung Nigga\n\nSick to my motherfucking tummy\nBitch must think I'm a motherfucking dummy\nBecause I dress bummy, bitch think I'm broke\nBitch, I ate one roach and I made a lot of money\nPopping since Bastard, (manager) Clancy's my slave master\nThanks to them crackers, my pockets are fatter than excess shit that's weighing on Jasper\nI've never popped a bottle, but I've fucked a couple models in Europe\nYup, and a couple of them swallowed\nMeet me halfway, bitch I'm going all-in\nAnd I never pull back, shout-out to my nigga Taco\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, (Golf Wang!)\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nYou might also like\nSo, a couple fags threw a little hissfit\nCame to Pitchfork with a couple Jada Pinkett signs\nAnd said I was a racist homophobic\nSo I grabbed Lucas and filmed us kissing\nFeelings getting caught, it's off, I'm pissing\nYou think I give a fuck? I ain't even stick my dick in yet (No homo, too soon)\nAnd while y'all are rolling doobies\nI be in my bedroom scoring movies\nStill excited like a fucking newbie\nSuck my dick, motherfucker, sue me\nMom got a new whip so she could scoop me\nA year ago, I ain't have no hoopty\nFour story home, gotta climb eight set of stairs\nJust to see where my fucking roof be\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, (Golf Wang!)\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nWait a Goddamn second\nI'm tripping balls, David Beckham\nWould fall 'cause shit's going down\nJust like Rodney King swimming lessons\nNow me and Justin smoke sherm and been talking 'bout freeing perms\nAnd purchasing weapons, naming them and aim 'em in One Direction\n(wait a minute)\nIt sounds like midgets in a Goddamn speaker\nAny time you play this shit loud\nBut that's just me trying to get milk now\nAnd the grunts of the goddamn cow\nHit me on my beeper while Captain Hook suck my Peter\nPan camera, repeat procedure\nAnd when the beat drop, have a goddamn seizure\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, (Golf Wang!)\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, (Golf Wang!)\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nFuck that, Golf Wang\nCut it out!\nI said I didn\u2019t want no goddamn lettuce\nI don\u2019t want that shit\nI don\u2019t want your goddamn lettuce "}
{"text":"Day that I met you, girl\nI knew that it was something special\nBut I couldn't put my finger on it (Fuck, I can't sing, whatever, look)\nWe met through mutual friends (Mutual friends)\nAnd this is where the story and confusion began\n'Cause I was at nirvana, but I had to pretend that I wasn't\nThere go the policeman, knocking at my door\nDo I leave out the back and grab my wallet and coat?\nOr do I answer real confused like, \"I don't know\"? (I don't know)\nNow me and she held hands and we danced, nothing more\nShe kissed my hand a couple times, FaceTime when we're bored\nThere's nobody at the door, man, I'm so paranoid\nFuck, because\n\n'Cause, girl, you're perfect, but you're too fucking young (For me, uh)\nAnd when temptation calls my phone, I never pick up (No)\nAnd, girl, you stole my heart, but you're too fucking young\nAnd this is more than a crush, I just might be in love (Oh my God)\n\nA six-year Difference, uh\nIs a ten year Sentence\nAnd with the pigment on my skin\nI don't want to be another Statistic\nYou bring me joy, joy, joy, joy\nAnd you fill a void that was once missing\nAnd I can say I'm in love\nYou might also like\nThere go the policeman, knocking at my door\nDo I leave out the back and grab my wallet and coat?\nOr do I answer real confused like, \"I don't know\"? (I don't know)\nNow me and she held hands and we danced, nothing more\nShe kissed my hand a couple times, FaceTime when we're bored\nThere's nobody at the door, man, I'm so paranoid\nFuck, because\n\n'Cause, girl, you're perfect, but you're too fucking young\nAnd when temptation calls my phone, I never pick up (Woo!)\nAnd, girl, you stole my heart, but you're too fucking young\nAnd this is more than a crush, I just might be in love (Oh my God, yo)\n\nWhen you're thirty-five, I'll be forty-one\nAnd when I'm twenty-seven, you'll be twenty-one, yo, this is dumb\nAnd when that time comes for that 1-8, I'll probably run\n'Cause I'm fucking terrified, yo, this is dumb, you should find someone else\nI'm not the one for you, shit, I'm still growing up by myself\nAnd mentally, you're older than me, and that shit doesn't help\n'Cause if they see you with T, they'll think T needs some help\nSo when you mention \"hang\", I'm thinking 'bout a tree and a belt\nAnd I don't want no relation, shit no relation\nShip when my dick is longer than my attention-\nSpan, it's gonna suck if shit, hits that kitchen fan\nAnd splatter on me like my dick in my hand\nWhat? I'm still fucking off, not good at ducking off\nBecause I found a goose that I like, but I'm still running off\nShe gon' want a nest, that's why I cannot get fucking caught\nThat's a scary word, you could save that shit for the birds, um\nBut I found my wings, fuck\nBut you're too fucking young\nI really like you\nAnd when temptation calls my phone, I never pick up\nI don't know what to do\nAnd, girl, you stole my heart, but you're too fucking young\nFunny thing about this is, by the time you hear this\nAnd this is more than a crush, I just might be in love (Oh my God)\nIt won't even matter, I'll be in the clear, haha\nIt's T and Uncle Charlie!\nBut you're too young\nBut you're too young\nBut you're too young, ha\n\nBoy, I know that we could be more\nThan just friends, but you're scared\nBoy, I know, that we could be more\nThan just friends, but you're scared (I know)\n\nI know that there could be\nSomethin' for you and me\nWhat's your philosophy?\nYou're scared, scared\nAnd I'll exit and wait a while\nJust say the word, girl\nCan't you see the answers are all there?\nBut I'm just too blind to see\nYou and I are cut from different fabric\nI wanna rock, I wanna rock with you, girl\nDon't be too material to see\nBut I'm just too blind to see\nSomehow, this world is such a struggle just to be\nFuck 'em all, baby, it's just you and me\nBut you're too fuckin' young\nAnd, girl, I know that you're the one for me\nAnd it hurts, it fuckin\u2019 hurts\nFuck, 'cause you're too fuckin' young\nAnd, girl, I know that you're the one for me\nAnd it hurts, it fuckin' hurts\n'Cause you're too fuckin' young\nAnd, girl, I know that you're the one\nThat you're the one, for me\n'Cause you're too fuckin' young\nAnd, girl, I know that you're the one for me, yeah\n\nI rock (I rock)\nI rock (I rock)\nI rock (I rock)"}
{"text":"\nFor your boy\nI'm watching Freaks and Geeks with the trampoline on the floor\nI'm tryna cop the new McLaren with the vertical doors\nNigga\n\nMoney, money, money, money, money ain't the motive\nWhat's your name again? Nobody knows it\nDon't speak to me, nigga, you not important\nI'm focused (Two, three, four)\nBring in the horns\n\nThey say I'm nutty, I'm picnic basket\nI'm short of a sandwich, I'm peanut butter\nBoyce Watkins a faggot, please come and get me (Two, three, four)\nSaid I suckin' at your neck, like a hickey, boy, I'm sicky (Two, three, four)\nLike a HIV victim, ain't nobody fuckin' with me\nI got banned from New Zealand, whitey called me a demon (Yeah)\nAnd a terrorist? Goddamn it, I couldn't believe it\nBan a kid from a country, I never fall, never timber (Two, three, four)\nBut you fucked up as a parent, your child idol's a nig\u200bger\nI clearly don't give a fuck, so you could run that shit back\nAnd fuck your loud pack, and fuck your Snapchat (Man...)\nCherry Bomb the greatest fuckin' album since the days of sound (Two, three, four)\nAnd that shit gon' pop just like that nigga that was never 'round\nDamn, 'bout to drop, gas 'em up, thick exhaust (Woo)\nYoung T, came quick, hard to beat, dick is soft\nWe ain't lyin', we the truth, call him Simba, beast is loose (Two, three, four)\nTyler, The Creator sweatin' Jesus juice\nPut that fuckin' cow on my level, 'cause I'm raising the stakes (Why, oh, why don't they like me? They don't like me, oh)\nMom, I made you a promise, it's no more Section 8\nAnd what we ate was the steaks, now our section is great (Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, don't they like me?)\n'Cause that's the level I'm at, my nigga, pass 'em a plate\n'Ye!\nYou might also like\nWhy, oh why, why, why don't they like me? (Two, three, four)\n'Cause Nike gave a lot of niggas checks (Two, three, four)\nBut I'm the only nigga to ever check Nike\nRicher than white people with black kids\nScarier than black people with ideas (Two, three, four)\nNobody can tell me where I'm headin' (Two, three, four)\nBut I feel like Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen at my weddin' (Yeah)\nThey say I'm crazy, but that's the best thing goin' for me\nYou can't lynch Marshawn if Tom Brady throwin' to me (Two, three, four)\nI made a million mistakes, but I'm successful in spite of 'em (Two, three, four)\nI believe you like a fat trainer taking a bite of somethin'\nI wanna turn the tanks to playgrounds\nI dreamt of 2Pac, he asked me \"Are you still down?\" (Two, three, four)\nYeah, my nigga, it's on, it's on, it's on, it's on (Two, three, four)\nI know they told they white daughters, \"Don't bring home Jerome\"\nI am the free nigga archetype (Woo)\nI am the light and the beacon; you can ask the deacon (Ask the deacon)\nIt's funny, when you get extra money (Two, three, four)\nEvery joke you tell just be extra funny (Yeah, yeah)\nI mean, you can even dress extra bummy\nCocaine, bathroom break, nose extra runny (Two, three, four)\nAnd I gave you all I got, you still want extra from me (Woo) (Two, three, four)\nOxford want a full-blown lecture from me\nAnd the Lexus pull up, errr, like hop, I hopped out, like wassup?\nErr-err-err, step back, hold up, my nigga, you suck\nHold up (Skrrt!)\nI studied the proportions\nEmotions runnin' at a Autobahn speed-level (Two, three, four)\nHad a drink with fear, and I was textin' God (Two, three, four)\nHe said, \"I gave you a big dick, so go extra hard\", uh (Woo)\nFor your boy\nI'm tryna cop the new McLaren with the vertical doors\nI'm watchin' Freak and Geeks, got a trampoline in my room\nDamn (Two, three, four)\n\nHold your fuckin' horses\nNiggas really fuckin' thought that T lost it\nLike I bet it at a auction\nBeen exhausted, I been workin'\nWhile y'all silly bros smoke like broken exhaust tips\nFuckin' losers\nHold your fuckin' ponies, my homie\nI'll whip your donkey by my lonely, I eat pussy like Shoney's, yeah\nIt's Tunechi, homie, Master of Ceremonies\nI knock 'em down, Domino effect, no pepperoni, I swear\nIt's them Golf boys, like them Hot Boys (Yeah)\nFor the nine-nine and two-thousand, but it's the two-thou' and (Yeah)\nThe one-four and the one-five, yo, what up, Wayne?\nWhat up, Slime? Nigga, go hard\nYeah, I'ma go hard like before came\nGot too much drive, need like ten lanes\nLife is a broad, and she give brain\nThat's that road head (Yeah), that's a dream car\nGot a full tank of that same year I was born\nThat's that one-nine-nine-one, 'nother nigga like I, you won't find one\n'Cause, nigga, I'm a god, a divine one; Tune! (Two, three, four)\nMy trigger finger wise, but my .9 dumb (Yeah)\nMiddle finger blind, so it's fuck A-N-Y-one (Um)\nFuck, skate, and die son, a hundred ways to die, son\nI'm starin' at a tramp on lean, make my eye jump\nUse Adderall like alarm clocks, wake my high up\nStakes are high, well done, and prime cut; eat up\nI stick my Rollie in her mouth, let the time come\nShe got hair like Sheneneh, and eyes like Wanda, oh my goodness\nWayne, them bitches ugly, these niggas colder than Tommy buddy\nYe, we hittin' models like Tony Parker be hittin' bottles\nBitch, I'm goin' harder than yellow cabbies stoppin' for Lionel (Black ass nigga)\nThey be duckin' us niggas, shout out to Donald Sterling (Two, three, four)\nBoy, let's get a scrimmage and cut some niggas, I'll bring the Clippers\nAnd a couple owners that's kinda German, you bring the nooses\nAnd a couple trees, where the money grow and get bodies burnin'\n'Cause I'm tryna hang like I'm Mr. Cooper or Jews in Berlin\nOr some niggas from Alabama, Birmingham\nMy new music's all over the street like Erick Sermon was\nFuck us, maybe we should team up\nAnti-Golf boys 'cause I don't fuck with me either\nI'm a liar, I'm a faggot, ugh! Son, you need Jesus\nBut I heard he left Sunset to go on tour with Yeezus (That's too harsh)\nWell, I'm prayin' for the new Yeezys\nAnd you pussies prayin' that we squash the beef like zucchini\nI know, it ain't gain, nor fame, nor tame\nOr lame, nor strange, nah, faggot, it's Golf Wang"}
{"text":"No, don't shoot me down (Yeah)\nNo, don't shoot me down (Okay)\nNo, don't shoot me down\n\nYou so motherfuckin' dangerous\n(You started with a mere hello)\nYou so motherfuckin' dangerous\nYou got me by my neck (A boy is a gun)\nThat's why these other niggas lame to us\n'Cause all these other niggas lame as fuck\nWe show 'em no respect\n\n(You started with a mere hello)\nWhen the time's right, yeah\nWhen the time's right, baby\nWhen the time's right (A boy is a gun)\n(Turn me up a little bit)\n\nNo, don't shoot me down\nTake your hoodie off, why you hide your face from me?\nMake your fuckin' mind up, I am sick of waitin' patiently\nHow come you're the best to me? I know you're the worst for me\nBoy, you're sweet as sugar, diabetic to the first degree\nMy spidey sensies got me on the fencies\nWhole squad in Ginza, travel bag by Balenci'\nBig dawg hittin' big wheelies on the six speed\nYou might also like\nNo, don't shoot me down\n\nYou so motherfuckin' dangerous\n(You started with a mere hello)\nYou so motherfuckin' dangerous\nYou got me by my neck (A boy is a gun)\nThat's why these other niggas lame to us\n'Cause all these other niggas lame as fuck\nThey show 'em no respect\n\n(You started with a mere hello)\nWhen the time's right (Yeah)\nWhen the time's right, baby\nWhen the time's right (A boy is a gun)\n(Look)\nNo, don't shoot me down\n\nOh, you passive-aggressive? Oh, you fakin' you're mad?\n(You started with a mere hello)\nOh, you wanna go home? Cool, you better call you a cab\nI ain't takin' you home, yeah, I'm brushin' you off\n'Cause this parka is Comme, you're my favorite gar\u00e7on\nDon't leave, stay right here, yeah, I want you right near\n(You started with a mere hello)\nYou invited me to breakfast, why the fuck your ex here?\nWell, let's see if you 'round a god around this time next year\nNo, don't shoot me down\nNo, don't shoot me down (Fucked up)\nNo, don't shoot me down\nNo, don't shoot me down\n\nYou so motherfuckin' dangerous\n(You started with a mere hello)\nYou so motherfuckin' dangerous\nYou got me by my neck (A boy is a gun)\nThat's why I start to think it's lame as fuck\n(Well, I'm here for you)\n\n(You started with a mere hello)\nWhen the time's right (Yeah)\nWhen the time's right, baby\nWhen the time's right (A boy is a gun)\n\nNo, don't shoot me down\n\n(You started with a mere hello)\nYou're a gun 'cause I like you on my side at all times\nYou keep me safe  (No, don't shoot me down)\n(You started with a mere hello)\nWait, wait, depending on, you know (All the time)\nYou could be dangerous to me (Time, time)\nOr anyone else\nLook, they be bringin' us up\n(You started with a mere hello)\nYeah, like now and again\nGive a fuck what they talkin' 'bout, I see you as a 10\nI'ma leave it at that, I'ma leave us as friends\n'Cause the irony is I don't wanna see you again\nStay the fuck away from me\nStay the fuck away from me\nStay the fuck away from me\nI ain't gon' repeat myself, but stay the fuck away from me\n\n(You started with a mere hello)\n(A boy is a gun)\nNo, don't shoot me down\n(You started with a mere hello)\n(A boy is a gun)"}
{"text":"Something real, yeah\nBaby\nOh nah, we don't do backpack\nHaha, my pick up line and shit\nYeah, yeah,\u2005yeah,\u2005yeah, yeah\nI got\u2005your bitch movin'\nCall me when you\u2005get lost\n\nAw, you look malnourished (Malnourished)\nLet's get some bread, fry it in egg yolk and drown it in syrup (Drown it in syrup)\nYou pick a spot, I pick a tail number and we could be tourists (Ooh, yeah)\nLet's go to Cannes and watch a couple indie movies that you never heard of (Baby)\nListen to bands, groove and we dance\nDisco in France, smell some perfume, head in the wind (In the wind)\nWe can switch off\nI can show you how you can really exfoliate skin\nIf you got a man, you should cut it off\nGet your passport 'cause we runnin' off (Run off)\nWe can sit and talk\nYou can tell me everything that's on your chest, baby, get it off\nYou are my type, you a bright light\nI'm like a moth, this is not a game (This is not a game)\nBut before we start (Before I say)\nYou might also like\nWhat's your name, girlfriend, what's your name? (Check it out)\n(What's your name?)\nWhat's your name, girlfriend, what's your name? (Tell me)\nWhat's your name, girlfriend, what's your name? (Check it out)\n(Oh, what's your name?)\nWhat's your name, girlfriend, what's your name? (Oh, girl)\nYeah\n\nWhat is your name, what do you bring? (Yeah)\nI think that I got what you need\nAnd I'm willin' to do anything that you please (Baby)\nI'm tryna get down to the root of the apple\nThe deepest I could in them jeans\nMcLaren like Sonic, can't speak, no\nNo, you can't hit my lean, no (Baby)\nBaby, tell me where the piece go, 'cause I'm lost\nYour body compared to the fashion\nI hope you ain't proud of the shit that I bought (Baby)\n'Cause money, it don't mean a thing\nI value the times that I take you out\nOne minute, it's a beautiful scene\nThen it probably end with me bein' took out, woah-oh\nThink slow, 'cause I move fast (Oh, me)\nWhat's your name, girlfriend, what's your name? (Check it out)\n(Oh, what's your name?)\nWhat's your name, girlfriend, what's your name? (Tell me)\nWhat's your name, girlfriend, what's your name? (Tell me)\n(Oh, what's your name?)\nWhat's your name, girlfriend, what's your name? (Yeah)\n(Oh-oh)\nYeah\n\nSince when did I bring a C5?\nI wanna know your name\nI feel like I had your name\nOh-oh, oh, oh, ooh, ooh\nStop playin' and let me pay your momma debt off, haha"}
{"text":"Sawed-off, I eat those\nThese clothes, they free though\nStraight from the back of the Supreme store\nDon't give a fuck about these hoes--\nHold on, hold on, hold on, run that shit back!\n(This is a DJ Stankdaddy exclusive!)\nI want the Black kids to like me for this one, man\nTrashwang! Woah!\nIllegal CIV!\nTrashwang! Yo!\nGolf Wang!\nTrashwang!\nBitch, I'm with the fucking extras\nBig dog, cup full of egg nog\nDon't give a fuck 'bout shit but clips and Camp Flog Gnaw\nSawed-off, I eat those\nThese clothes, they free though\nStraight from the back of the Supreme store\nDon't give a fuck about these hoes\nThey just slob knob in New York shows\nThirsty for the clips till I'm not flow\nPusha Georgia trip, bitch I got it poppin'\nMe and Jasper going coffin shopping\nNose of the board see a lotta boxes\nBitches see the boy and they mouth be frothing\nChain is glossing\nBitch\nYou might also like\nTrashwang niggas\nThriller, we the killer\nYou can tell I'm Golf Wangin'\nBy the fucking stickers\nOF or Wolf Gang\nMy niggas is my niggas\nDon't let them skateboards fool you\nKnow niggas that pull triggers\n\nTrashwang, nigga, that's what's up\nTrashwang, nigga, that's what's up\nTrashwang, nigga, that's what's up\nTrashwang, nigga, roll a blunt\nTrashwang, nigga, that's what's up\nTrashwang, nigga, that's what's up\nTrashwang, nigga, that's what's up\nTrashwang, nigga, roll a blunt\n\nWolf Gang, Golf Wang, yeah, them niggas is swell\nTighter than a straight nigga going to jail\nLocked in a box, nigga, off them socks\nI can finally afford the bail\nMy bitch isn't bad\nShe's pretty normal looking with a real nice ass\nNow hop off my dick, what it be\nBitch, Mob, Task, Force, Lil B, nigga\nSpeaking of the devil\nY'all niggas cornier than kettle\nY'all couldn't smoke crack or heroin\nIn a Black Ops plane and reach my level\nAte some bugs and I made some carats\nFuck y'all niggas' bullshit, y'all cherish\nI'm 21, I threw a party but\u2026\nDifference is, y'all didn't have a Ferris\nWheel\n55 grams in that blunt, nigga\nI face that\nJust copped that motherfucker bimmer, nigga\nI race that\nKeep talking that shit\nI'll pull your card\nGet chipped like that nigga from Stomp The Yard\nDon't fuck with Jasper\nHe a retard\nKill your motherfucking grandma and have your family scarred\n\nMight fuck around and be a goat named Felicia\nSorry, got a little excited\nIt's probably all the meth Walt Jr. provided\nWolf Gang up in this bitch\nRed Riding Hood is pissed\nSomebody tell Megan and Sara to come and suck a-\nTrash Wang niggas\nThriller, we the killer\nYou can tell I'm Golf Wangin'\nBy the fucking stickers\nOF or Wolf Gang\nMy niggas is my niggas\nDon't let them skateboards fool you\nKnow niggas that pull triggers\nBimmers for days\nWhite bitches is slaves\nNiggas ain't with that warfare\nMy goons got aim\nNigga we bout it bout it\nYo bitch try to suck my dick\nHolding up my chain\nVersace Flocka Flame\nPull up in the tank\nCock back and aim (ouch)\nSpitting my verse wearing gold fangs\nI'm loading up the nine shouting Golf Wang\nYour bitch tattoo\nIt say my name\nSachee Santana\nNigga bird gang\nSupreme team\nSeventh veil\nPaying all these ratchet's\n(Phone bills) Phone bills\nBills, bills, bills...\n\n(What) Yeah\nY'all niggas thought it was a game\nWe shutting the motherfucking shit down now nigga\nIt's over for you bitch niggas\nI'm here with my nigga nasty Nak', Mr. Versace\nWolf Haley in this motherfucker\nJasper The Motherfucking Dolphin\nAnd my nigga, Mike G\nWe taking this shit over\nIts shut down for you bitch niggas\nI got the Tec\nI'm bustin' at y'all bitches heads nigga\nFuck all you niggas\nIt's getting hot in here\n\nOdd Future Wolf Gang bruh we Kill 'Em All\nGolf Wang sticker on that Trash Wang\nNigga knows that OF popping -- Loiter Squad, Flog Gnaw\nOFWGKTA yeah you niggas know them seven letters long\nYeah, Wolf Gang up in this bitch\nGolf Wang up in this bitch\nLitter Life up in this bitch\nOFM, banging on your motherfuckin' FM\nNigga, fuck you thought this was, nigga?\nHaha\nClick-click \n(What the fuck was that?)"}
{"text":"You wouldn't do that Tyler, kill yourself or anyone. You don't, you don't even have the balls to begin with. What you need is me, someone to talk to, uh, it's been a while since our last session. So, tell me what's been going on\n\nI'm not a fucking role model (I know this)\nI'm a 19 year old fucking emotional coaster with pipe dreams\nSince Kanye tweeted tellin' people he's bumpin' all of my shit\nThese motherfuckers think I'm 'sposed to live up to something? Shit\nI'm still jackin' off and proceedin' my life careless\nBut getting more pussy 'cause I tell bitches I'm Wood Harris (as you should)\nPhilly to Paris, I'm getting these weird stares\nAt skateparks and airports all in a year, it's weird\nYonkers dropped and left them craniums mindfucked\nNow competition missing like that nigga my mom fucked\nHe still hasn't called me yet (that's not your fault)\nBut that's a whole fucking different argument, shit, I got over it\nAnd a couple bucks in my pocket, so now I could go buy\nA couple Hot Pockets and grandma could stop cooking\nThem nasty ass collard greens, pressure's on me like this top hat\nBastard intro, how the fuck I'm gonna top that?\n\n\"Tyler, you'll top it, you'll top that, you're a very capable individual\"\n\"Okay, you guys caught me, I'm not a fucking rapist or serial killer, I lied\"\n\"You know, you just want attention, you'll be fine\"\n\"I try too hard, huh?\"\n\"No, you don't\"\nYou might also like\nMade a couple thou' and I just don't know what to buy yet\nThe 'preme shit is free and I don't drink, so fuck a wine set\nNigga, fuck a mindset, my brain is an obscenity\nI'm fucked in the head, I lost my mind with my virginity\nOh, that's a triple three six, isn't he a devil worshiper\nCause I'm too fucking ignorant to do some research?\nI'm the star of the group (Yeah)\nSo no one else gets the respect that they deserve cause of you\n(Bastard was good though) What you think I record it for?\nTo have a bunch a critics call my shit a bunch of horrorcore?\nLike I didn't make \"Parade\" or \"Inglorious\"\nCause I'm too scared to tell my friends the way I really fucking feel?\nOf course they only listen to lyrics about me pissin' off\nIn the tombs of Lara Croft, I'm getting pissed off (I bet)\nMessage boards are on my dick, I need a pissing waiver (here)\nLet me bust one in they mouth, I know they full of flavor\n\n\"Can't they just be happy for me like, a kid with nothing, living out his dreams? Why they got to fucking hate?\"\n\"I think everyone's happy, everyone's immature, everyone loves you Tyler, you have to believe that.\"\n\"I don't even skate anymore, I'm too fucking busy, I can barely kickflip now.\"\n\"Why? Why is that? Do you not have any free time when you're at  home?\"\n\"What the fuck you mean I'm not talented? You see the shit that I've been doing?\"\n\"I have, I mean you're a great person.\"\n\"I mean, I'm not that great of a rapper but as a whole, I'm pretty cool, right?\"\nPeople excited, thinking shit is so tight (For what?)\nGetting co-signs from rappers that I don't even like\nWhat the fuck you want me to do? Start to gobble his mic?\nAnd start Jackson him off until his cack blasting off? (No...)\nFuck that, (Yeah) These niggas ain't fucking with me\nCause I don't listen to the Immortal of Tech-of-the-nique\nAnd all this underground bullshit that's never gon' peak\nOn the Billboard Top 20 and Jam of the Week\nI'd rather listen to Badu and Pusha the T\nAnd some Waka Flocka Flame instead (I love that shit) of that real hip hop\nThat's bull-of-the-sheet, but they want to critique\nEverything that we, Wolf Gang, has ever released\nBut they don't get it, (They don't, it's not made for them) cause it's not made for them\nThe nigga that's in the mirror rapping, it's made for him\nBut they do not have the mindset that's same as him\nI'm not weird, you're just a faggot, shame on him\n\n\"It is, but Tyler, you're going to have to cut down on that \"faggot\" word, that's very, that's a bad...\n\"I'm not homophobic.\"\n\"I mean, I don't think you are but...\"\n\"Faggot.\"\n\"Alright, well, since the last time we...\"\n\"The fuck is a good performance? I get on stage and I have as much fun as I can.\"\n\"I mean, you, you, it seems like you have fun. But your Twitter posts, just.. I mean, they're really random and it's ADD.\"\n\"Who doesn't have ADD..? Well, I don't.\"\n\"I mean, sometimes, you just say really outlandish things and we just want to know, what's the problem for this?\"\n\"I wish Thebe was here.\"\nTherapy's been sinning and niggas getting offended\nThey don't want to fuck with me cause I do not fuck with religion\nYou see, that's my decision, you fuckers don't have to listen\nHere, put this middle finger in your ear (I'd rather not)\nWhen someone gets blamed cause some white kid had aimed (What?) his AK-47\nAt 47 kids, I don't wanna see my name mentioned\n(I don't think anyone's going to men\u2014I don't think anyone takes you serious enough to believe you.)\nCollege wasn't working and I wasn't working\nSo I was at home jerking off until my dick was hurting\nBut I was determined to be great, so those classes can wait\nCause the four days that I went, I wasn't learning shit (I mean, you...)\nNow I'm living dreams that I wanted since eight\nAnd can afford to get my mother something on her birthday\n(I mean, you've explained to me that you were in school, but, I mean, I...)\nThey claim the shit I say is just wrong\nLike nobody has those really dark thoughts when alone\nI'm just a teenager, who admits he's suicide prone\nMy life is doing pretty good, so that date is postponed for now\nWow, life's a cute bitch full of estrogen\nAnd when she gives you lemons, nigga, throw 'em at pedestrians\n(So, what are you saying, take advantage?\nI mean, you've been doing pretty good, I've seen that)\nI still live in my grandma's house\nSell out a fucking show in London just to end up on couches\nI hate my fucking life, but when I make that announcement\nMy hero calls my phone, just to put that in doubt then\nAnd then I am confused if I want in or just out\nMy friends really think I'm playing when I say I need counseling\nI sit in grandmother's living room and just pout\nAnd shout loud inside, sometimes I just want to die (No, you don't)\nOdd Future came from the bottom\nAnd it's gon' take a couple armed armies tryna stop 'em\n(I believe you) All you fucking lames don't have to like me (Yeah)\nThe devil doesn't wear Prada, I'm clearly in a fucking white tee\n\nWhoa, umm, alright, uh, so you was telling me you went to New York..."}
{"text":"When you're having fun, fun\n(Time flies, time flies, time flies)\nWhen you're having fun (Time flies)\nOut the window (It goes, goes, goes)\n\nFind some time, find some time to do something\nFind some time, find some time to do something\nFind some time, find some time to do something\nAh\n\nBoredom got a new best friend\n(Boredom, boredom, best friend)\n'Cause boredom got a new best friend (Oh, oh, oh)\nBoredom got a new best friend\nNa-na-na, na-na-na, oh-na-na-na\nOh, oh, oh\n\nFind some time, find some time to do something\nFind some time (Find some time, oh)\n\nBoredom, boredom, boredom, boredom\nBoredom, boredom, boredom\nBoy, my bedroom floor is a cereal burial, I'm serious\nI ate 'em all, dry boxes, bodies, yeah I caught 'em\nIf we're talkin' 'bout real meals, ask my stomach, he ain't saw 'em\nI've been in this fuckin' room so long\nMy eyeballs are turning to drywall\nMy friends suck, fuck 'em, I'm over 'em\n\"Hi y'all, y'all ain't hit me all-day\nWhat the fuck is the problem? Is it me?\n'Cause I'm not solved, I'm... bored\"\nYou might also like\nFind some time, find some time to do something\nFind some time, find some time to do something\nFind some time, find some time to do something\n(Oh)\n\nBored and getting desperate as hell\n(Desperate, using, texting, amusing)\nCellular not amusing and I hope someone will\nMessage me with some plans that are amusing as well\n'Cause I haven\u2019t seen the exit of these walls since before this morning\nMorning, morning, morning, morning\n(Morning, oh, what the fuck?)\nGot some cars I can handle but nowhere for performance\nMy stomach angry and yellin', I need some food, I could order\nBut I hate eating solo\nNeed someone, we can loiter in parking lots\nAs sunsets at the border, yeah\nRingy dingy dong, I can't be alone\nI been starting to feel like I don't know anyone\nSo now I'm staring at my ceiling fuckin' blowing\nLike I have no idea where I'm going\nTick tock\n(Damn, gotta get outta here)\nFind some time, find some time to do something\n(Hey, can y'all help me right quick?)\nFind some time, find some time to do something\nFind some time, find some time to do something (Tick tock)\n(Ti-ti-tick tock) (Oh)\n\n'Cause boredom got a new best friend\nTick tock\nBoredom got a new best friend\n'Cause boredom got a new best friend\nTick tock\n\nFind some time, find some time\nGotta find some time, find some time\nGonna find some, find some time\nGotta find some time, find some time\nGonna find some, find some time\nGotta find some time, find some time\nGonna find some, find some time\nTime, time, time, time\nTime, time, time, time\nTime, time, time, time\nTime, time, time\n\"Ride's over, we got some tickets to see s-\""}
{"text":"Ayo\nI wanna talk, I wanna call you and talk\nI wanna walk to your front door and knock\nAfter I start my vehicle\nDrive to your city 'cause we live an hour apart\nLand at your driveway and put it in park\nThen do the third line of this verse\nThen back to my house and we pack up our bikes\nAnd we ride through the park, chase the sun\nGod, that's all I want, other than air\nOxygen and financial freedom, yeah\nI want your company, I need your company\nI want you to want from me\nI can't maneuver without you next to me\nIt's so complex to me\n\nWhat do you need?\nDo you need bread? Do you need this?\nDo you need a hug? Do you need to be alone?\nI could wrap this up and get the fuck away instead\nWhat is your wish? It can be granted\nYou're number one, one on my list, see, I am Santa\nWhere is Rudolph? You're parasitic\nI do not have self-control\nI am startin' to wonder\nIs this my free will or yours? (Yours, yours, yours)\nYou might also like\nI'm your puppet, you control me\nI'm your puppet, I don't know me\n(Did I wait too long?)\nI'm your puppet\n(Did I wait too long?)\nYou control me\n(Did I wait too long?)\nI'm your puppet\n(Did I wait too long?)\nI'm lonely\n'Cause I'm your puppet\n(Puppet, oh)\nYou control me (Control me)\nI'm your puppet (Puppet)\nI don't know\nI'm your puppet (Did I wait too long?)\nYou control me (Puppet)\nYou lost, son, and you've been tryna find your way to me\nAyy, to me, he's on somethin' that I hate to see\nA to Z, nah son, I'm gonna take a breathe\nRun a 'thon, I just stop and I'ma take the breathe\n...on a...\n...on a...\nFirst, light the weed\nFirst...\nFirst... (Got me by a string)\nFirst... (Got me by a string)\nFirst... (Got me by a string)\n(Oh, Lord)\n(La, la, la, la)\n(La, la, la)\nBreathe on a song\n(La, la, la)\nBreathe on a song\n(La, la, la, la, la, la)\nBreathe on a song\n(Cut me loose)\n(La, la, la)\n(La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la)\n(Cut me loose, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBut at some point, you come to your senses"}
{"text":"What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What?\nUh\nRunnin', runnin\u2019, runnin', runnin'\nUh\nHeaven, heaven (Ooh)\nHe\u2019s coming\n\nRidin' 'round town, they gon' feel this one\nRidin' 'round town, they gon' feel this one\nRidin' \u2019round town, they gon\u2019 feel this one\nRidin', ridin\u2019 'round town, they gon' feel this one\nGot my, got my, got my, got my eyes open (Oh-oh-oh)\nGot my, got my, got my eyes open\nGot my, got my, got my, got my eyes open (Oh-oh-oh)\nGot my eyes open\n\nOh, yeah (What?)\nOh-oh-oh, yeah\nHe's comin\u2019\nRunnin', runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin', runnin'\nWhat? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What?\nHe's comin'\nYou might also like\nRidin' 'round town, they gon' feel this one (They gon' feel this one)\nRidin' 'round town, they gon' feel this one\nRidin' 'round town, they gon' feel (They gon' feel this one)\nRidin', ridin' 'round town, they gon' feel this one, oh\n(Got my eyes open)\nI'm ridin', I'm ridin'\n(Got my, got my, got my eyes open)\nOh, yeah\n(Got my, got my eyes open)\nI'm ridin', I'm ridin', yeah, I'm\n(Got my, got my, got my, got my eyes)\nIgor\n\nWhat?\nDown, down, down, down, down\nDown, down, down, down\nDown, down\nDow-dow-dow-dow-dow-dow-dow-dow\u2014\nWhat?\nYeah, ho\nYeah, ho\nYeah, ho\nYeah, ho (What?)\nYeah, ho\nWhat? What? what?\nGot my eyes open\nGot my, got my, got my eyes open\nRunnin', runnin', runnin'\nGot my eyes open\nWhat? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What? What?\nWha-wha-wha-wha-wha-wha-what?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nGot my, got my, got my, got my, got my, got my, got my, got my\nWhat? What? What? What?"}
{"text":"Don't kill a rose\nBefore it could bloom\nFly, baby, fly\nOut the cocoon\n\nYou don't have to hide\nI can smell it in your eyes\nThat there's something more to say, baby\nThem words\n(Damn, run me back, yeah)\n\nIf I could, if I could\nIf you could\nFind the words to say\nFind the words to say\nFind the words\nIn the garden\nShed\nGo\n\nDon't kill a rose\nBefore it could bloom\nFly, baby, fly\nOut the cocoon\nYou might also like\nAyo\nGarden shed, garden shed, garden shed, garden shed\nFor the garden\nThat is where I was hidin'\nThat was real love I was in\nAin't no reason to pretend\nGarden shed, garden shed, garden shed\nGarden shed for the gar\u00e7ons\nThem feelings that I was guardin'\nHeavy on my mind\nAll my friends lost\nThey couldn't read the signs\nI didn't wanna talk and tell 'em my location\nAnd they ain't wanna walk\nTruth is, since a youth kid, thought it was a phase\nThought it'd be like the phrase; \"poof,\" gone\nBut, it's still goin' on\nBig fan of the beige tan\nPolka dot nose, how it goes\nHad to keep it on the subwoofer\nA couple butterflies wanna float\nBut I was always like, \"Eh\"\nBarely interested, but bagged just to brag to my boys like, \"Bruh\"\nThis is a crucial subject matter\nSensitive like cookin' batter\n'Til the temperature that's risin'\nSteppin' on that ladder, tryna\nGrab the rings of Saturn, I'ma\nPlanet by the time you hear this\nShit and chatter 'bout the heat\nIt will not fuckin' matter"}
{"text":"(Can we talk on the phone or something)\nBecause when I call (When I call you on the phone)\nI hope you pick up your phone\nI'd like to talk to you\nI hope you answer\nI hope you answer\nYeah, I hope you answer\nI hope you answer\nYeah, I hope you answer\nBecause when I call\nI hope you pick up your phone\nI'd like to talk to you\nI hope you answer\nHey Dad, it's me, um...\nOh, I'm Tyler, I think I'd be your son\nSorry, I called you the wrong name, see, my brain's splitting\n\"Dad\" isn't your name, see \"Faggot\"'s a little more fitting\nMom was only twenty when you ain't have any fucks to spare\nYou Nigerian fuck, now I'm stuck with this shitty facial hair\nAlso stuck with a beautiful home with a case of stairs\nSo you not being near fucking fire-started my damn career\nBut fuck it, I got Clancy, he gave me the chance to see\nA world I wasn't supposed to, I'm stoked that I didn't know you\nBut sucks you ain't give a fuck and considered a sperm donor now\nFuck is an Okonma? I'm changing my shit to Haley\nAnd I just ain't being passive, nigga\nYou a fuckin' faggot, nigga\nGot a show on Monday, guess who ain't gettin' no passes, nigga?\nBut if I ever had the chance to ask this nigga\nAnd call him\nI hope he answer\nYou might also like\nI hope you answer\nI hope you answer\nI hope you answer\nYeah, I hope you answer\nBecause when I call (When I call, baby)\nI hope you pick up your phone (Please pick up)\nI'd like to talk to you\n(I hope you answer)\n\nSuck my fucking dick and swallow this case of nuts\nAce hates your guts, I'm a selfish fuck\nAnd I ain't sharing green as if I'm facing blunts\nFrank is out the closet, Hodgy's an alcoholic\nSyd might be bipolar, but fuck it, I couldn't call it\nSupposed to be gone 'til November but quickly came back in August\nI left two months through September to clearly remember all this\nI would like to tell my grandma, but she just nostalgia\nI'll call her number\nBut she won't answer\n\nI hope you answer\nI hope you answer\nI hope you answer\nYeah, I hope you answer\n'Cause when I call (When I call, baby)\nI hope you pick up your phone\n(I'd like to talk to you)\nI hope you answer\nYou claim to hate my fucking guts\nBut say I'm on a island in Thailand and I was wilding\nAnd, if I got stranded had to man up and hold my nuts\nAnd hope that I could live off salt water and fucking coconuts\nPhone ain't got no service, this 3G is fucking worthless\nDay is getting dark like the area's turning urban\nYou'll be fucking nervous like me inside of a Church's\nBut, I'ma get in contact regardless, and\nI hope you answer\n\nThe last verse was about this girl, haha"}
{"text":"\nTurn my lights on\nHow the fuck you quiet with the mic on?\nI don't get anxiety, you Sam Bowie-ass niggas\nI just get my Mike on\nY'all said I wouldn't go nowhere, I took the detour\nWhen you see the someone in the crack right by the seashore?\nWhen you see them brand new le Fleurs on the floor?\nIf the cops ask my name, bitch, I'm Igor\n\nYuh, ayo\nYeah, yeah\nLet's go, let's go, I ain't playin' around\nRed nose, red nose, all you niggas is clowns\nNiggas turning it up, well, shit, I'm tearing it down\nHard to believe in God when there ain't no mirrors around\nWhat's up?\n\nUh-huh, ayo\nUh-huh\nYeah, yo\nBitch\nYou might also like\nRunning 'til the rims fall\nHad them niggas and the cops looking jigsaw\nI done fucked around and turned into the big dog\nBetter get God, get caught? Bitch, I think not\nYeah, new suit, new boots, same nigga, like what?\nLukewarm-ass niggas always wanna talk\nI'm hot, I'm heat to the core like Earth\nDon't touch, don't go, niggas might get buck\n\nYo, yuh, ayo\nYeah, yeah\nLet's go, let's go, I ain't playin' around\nRed nose, red nose, all you niggas is clowns\nNiggas turning it up, well, shit, I'm tearing it down\nHard to believe in God when there ain't no mirrors around\nWhat's up?\n\nWhoop, uh huh\nYeah, bitch\nYeah\n\nI see the light\nNow didn't I tell you motherfuckers\nUm, I see the light\nTo pay attention and to keep your motherfucking eyes glued to the man that's in front of you?\nI see the light\nThat's what the fuck I expect all y'all motherfuckers to do\nI see the light\n\nDracula, Dracula, Dracula\nSuck me first, I might get back at ya (I see the light)\nIs that shit clear? Check the aperture\nHahahahaha, I can't laugh at ya (I see the light)\nThis the shit that make you nervous\n'Bout to go buck wild, nigga, Steve Irwin (I see the light)\nSick of that 'Claren talk, I'm on my third one\nNiggas talkin' reckless, I never heard 'em (I see the light)\n\nI see the light\nI see the light\nI see the light\n(Buck, don't touch, though, my niggas might get buck, don't touch, though)\nI see the light\n(Buck, don't touch, though, my niggas might get buck, don't touch, though)\nI see the light\nThat car crash couldn't take me (Woo, ha)\nGreen haired angels all around me (Uh)\nNo answer why, no tears to cry, bitch, I'm alive (I see the)\nThat wasn't my endpoint like v-neck\nI ain't have nobody to cheat on, I cheat death\nNew album, no repeat, I reset\nEverything I deliver special like G. Dep\nTwo of 'em, I total, Kima, Pam\nMe and death, the universe played middle man\nQuick nap, kick back like horse, eyes shut\nLoud sound, no scratch\nMotherfuckers really thought I died\nHoping they could take a spot\nNigga not knowing that I'm one of one\nAnd they some Helen Keller-ass niggas\nAnd I got my eyes open now I see the...\n\nLight\nI see the light\nYou never wanna meet a motherfucker like me\nI see the light (I said)\nI see the light\nI see the light\nI don't know what's harder, letting go or just being okay with it"}
{"text":"Went to Six Flags, six fags came up\nAnd said \"Ayo! Can we get a pic?\" I said no\nAnd they said \"Oh! It's Wolf Gang, \"Yonkers\", Goblin is my shit though\"\nNow I'm like, \"fuck, I don't want to be an asshole\"\nSo I'm sitting there posing with Travis, Devon\nWith a fake smile like her titties was drawing it on\nSo fucking annoyed 'cause I missed Goliath\n'Cause some kid said I was there, then they caused a riot (Tyler's here!)\nNow I'm surrounded by a 25 hound of fuckers tryna get a photo\nAll because they noticed the top with the box logo\nAnd them fucking ears, guarantee they didn't even hear Bastard\nThey bandwagon-jumped me from a pogo\nI'm going fucking loco, \"Hey, Tyler, can I...?\"\nNo, bitch, don't you see me tryna buy a fucking churro?\n\"But Tyler, you're my hero, I used to get bullied\nUntil I heard \"Radicals,\" the last part got to me\nSee, I used to give a fuck until my cock would bleed\nNow I'm the happiest I think I'll ever ever be\nMy life is just like yours, no father\nMy momma must have forgot to stop with a popped condom\nIn school I was the one that was thinking outside boxes\nSo everybody in them would say that I got problems\nSo when I heard you say it, I said it back like fuck 'em\nYou're an inspiration to niggas like me\nNot the niggas who just like you 'cause of lyrics and beats\nI'm talking 'bout the niggas who don't know where they're going to be\nI heard the song \"Bastard\" right in the moment of heat\nNot in summer, but of course, I was holding a heat\nGun on the edge of my feet, I heard that first piano chord\nAnd it drew me in like predators carrying treats\nThen I said to myself, \"Fuck, is he speaking to me?\"\nSee, me and you, we go together like snare and a beat\nI mean snare and a kick drum, see my forearm?\nI carved OF on it this morning with a glass shard\nOn my green mini ramp that I built in my backyard (that's weird)\nThat's hard, that scar from playing air guitar\nWhen I see you play at the Roxy (uhh)\nTyler, I love you, wanna be just like you (alright)\nI think about your face and I don't even fucking try to (no homo)\nWish I had a basement meant for me to hide you\nWe could play Xbox and listen to \"In Search Of...\" and eat donuts\nOver conversating 'bout what church does\nCome up with weird-ass videos with roach bugs\nI'm straight edge too, so no drugs on this trip\nAnd Raquel that bitch, you should've killed that bitch\nYou should've took me instead (uhh, that's weird)\nSee, if you can't have her then he shouldn't neither\nAnd if I can't have you then she shouldn't either\nNo one should see you, but me in your t-shirt\nI worship you until the fucking wrinkles on my knees hurt (what the fuck)\nOdd Future, Wolf Gang, Golf Wang, Flog Gnaw, free Earl mobbing\nI know it seems like I'm just slobbing on your knob\nBut I'm just a fan and I ain't losing my fucking noggin (yeah, you are)\nI ain't got a job and I went out and bought Goblin about 5 times\n'Cause (Thanks for the support) I love you man (alright)\nI like tie-dyed tees or just plain white tees\nI like pants that's cut, I like words like \"fuck\"\nI got your pics on my wall with the mouth cut out\nNow paper cuts on my balls because your dick's in my jaw (what the fuck)\nAnd I hit you on Twitter about 10 minutes a day\nAnd now I'm bitter 'cause you don't even reply with a \"hey\" (sorry)\nAnd my boys think I'm gay 'cause I play \"VCR\"\nIn my car all alone speakers waking up neighbors...\"\nAll right, my nigga, calm down, it's getting weird, take this pic\nSo I can get on Colossus, line as slow as molasses\n(Tyler, listen) No, nigga, I see you're loving my shit\nAnd I appreciate the fact that you would suck on my dick\nBut I'm not gay so it's awkward, now I'm grouchy like Oscar\nAfter spilling some shit on his newest pair of beige Dockers\n\"Yonkers\" and \"Yonkers\" (I love that song) Sick of hearing about \"Yonkers\"\nI'm grateful that it worked, I attacked and I conquered\n\"Yeah whatever but I had a fucking blast at that concert\nI was at the Boston one, I got a t-shirt from Sagan\nThe one that say \"Sagan Lockhart\" and when you came out to \"Sandwitches\"\nThat's when my fucking boy-crush got started\"\nYou might also like\nJust take this fucking picture man, shit..."}
{"text":"Dream\nJust dream\nLong ago, long ago, long ago\nDream\nJust dream\n\nAre we still friends? Can we be friends?\nAre we still friends? I've got to kno\u2013\nKnow\nIf we can still see each other\nShake your hand, say hi\nLong ago, long ago, long ago\n\nI can't stop you, I can't rock too\nI've been back there and I can not die too\nBut I've got to know\n\nAre we still friends? Can we be friends?\nAre we still friends? Can we be\u2013 (Can we be friends?)\nAre we still friends? Can we be friends? (Yeah)\nAre we still friends?\nYou might also like\n\n(La-la-la-la-la-la-la)\nAre we still friends? Are we still friends?\nAre we still friends? Are we still friends?\nAre we still friends? (Friends, friends)\nI said, are we still friends? (Friends, friends)\nAre we still friends? (Friends, friends, friends, friends, friends)\n\nDon't get green skin (Green skin), keep contact (Keep contact)\nDon't say, \"Goodbye, smell you later\" (Later)\nNah, I can't\nI don't want to end this season on a bad episode, nigga, nah\nBouncing off things and you don't know how you fall\nYour power is drained, so you cannot go through walls\nYou're caught in this matrix, don't know where you play it\nYou hate it, it could be your favorite if you make it your friend\n\n(Friends)\nAre we still friends? (This can't end)\nAre we still friends? (I still wanna say hi)\nAre we, are we, are we, are we still friends?\nOh woah\nCan't say goodbye (Yeah, ah, ah)\nCan't say goodbye, goodbye (Woo)"}
{"text":"\nNo, no, no, no, no, no, listen, listen (Call me when you get lost, lost)\nThe driver gon' drop you off\nAlright, it's warm (Call me when you get lost, lost)\nThe waterfall is crazy\nI don't know, make somethin' up, tell him somethin'\nUh, come on\nStill on the boat\nCall me if you get lost\n\nYou and I, we fell in love\nI ain't read the signs, ain't know what it was\nBut God gotta know he might have peaked when he made you\nThe cosmos' only mistake is what they named you (What that mean?)\n\nThey should call you sugar, you're so sweet\nWell, they should call you sugar, 'cause you're so sweet to me\nWell, they should call you sugar, sugar, oh, you're so sweet\n'Cause, baby, you're the sweetest, sweetest, sweetest thing I've known\n\nBaby, you're the sweetest thing\nYou might also like\nEven if\nYou left me out here stranded, my feelings wouldn't change a bit (You know how I feel about you, are you ready?)\nYou know how I feel, baby\nInfinite\nThe love I have for you, a diamond couldn't put a dent in it (Uh, go to the bridge thing, okay)\n\nDarling, you're the wind under my wings\nMy heart beats triple time when I see you\nSomethin' I can't control\nIf I compared you, the sun is a stand-in (Sun)\nYou got a smile that could light up a planet (Smile), yeah (Oh, oh)\nAnd I just wanted you to know (They should call you sugar)\n\nThey should call you sugar, you're so sweet\nWell, they should call you sugar (Why?), 'cause you're so sweet to me (Sugar)\nWell, they should call you sugar (Sugar), you're so sweet (Oh, oh)\n'Cause, baby, you're the sweetest, sweetest, sweetest thing I've known (Ooh, girl)\n\nYou're the sweetest\n\nThey should call you sugar, you're so sweet (Sugar, sugar, sugar, sugar)\nWell, they should call you sugar (Why?), 'cause you're so sweet to me\nWell, they should call you sugar, you're so sweet (You're so sweet to me)\n'Cause, baby, you're the sweetest, sweetest, sweetest (I know)\nAnd you look so good (Yeah)\nAnd you smell so good (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAnd you taste so good (Yeah)\nAnd you're so, so good (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nYou're the sweetest (Yeah)\nYeah, you are, ha-ha\nSweet like, like motherfuckin' brown sugar sweet potatoes (Are you ready?)\nOr somethin'\nHa-ha\n\nThe plan was to stick my toe in and\nCheck the temperature, but\nNext thing I know, I'm\nI'm drownin'\nAppelle-moi si tu te perds\n\nThis here for the sunseekers\nRun the track\n\nWhat makes you think\nI'm not in love?\nHow could you know\nWhat's best for us?\nWhy am I here\nStanding alone?\n'Cause I thought, I thought you wanted to dance, yeah (Welcome to the disco)\nYou're so good to me (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nYeah, it felt good to me, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah), yeah, yeah\nYou're so good to me (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nYeah, it felt so good to me (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nSo, what makes you think (What makes you think)\nI'm not in love? (I'm not in love?)\nAnd how could you know (How could you know)\nWhat's best for us, us, us? (What's best for us?)\nWhy am I here (Why am I here)\nStanding alone? (Standing alone?)\nBecause I thought you wanted to dance with me\n\nHonestly, it's all about the timing, yeah (Yeah, yeah)\nI ain't mean to lead you on, because\nHim and I got some things that we're trying\nBut my energy belongs to you\nI want you so bad, but not too fast\nIt's not your fault, we can't pretend\nBecause we both in the wrong\n\nSo what makes you think\nI'm not in love? (Feels so good)\nHow could you know, know, know\nWhat's best for us?\nWhy am I here\nStanding alone?\n'Cause I thought, I thought you wanted to dance, yeah (Run the track)\n'Cause I thought, I thought you wanted to dance\n'Cause I thought, I thought you wanted to dance\n('Cause I thought you wanted to dance with me) I thought you wanted to dance\n('Cause I thought you wanted to dance with me) I thought you wanted to dance\nI thought you wanted to dance\n\nI wish that we never met, I wish that we ain't connect\nLike Lego, connection good, but mixed signal\nIf you say so, like cardio\nWe stared up and down, but we didn't blink\nFelt like dirty dishes 'cause we was in sync\nI swear to God, if you and him never linked\nI'd tear that ass up like somethin' was stole\nI'd make them glass balls roll back to your skull\nCall a tail number, where you wanna go?\nThe fuck do he got that I don't got a lot of?\nThere go my ego again, that's the problem\nThe fuck you expect? I go get what I want\nI want you to say you pick me with your voice\nI'm twenty-five up, but I can't buy your choice\nYou're priceless to me, but that's not the point\nYou got me out here smokin' joints\nYou got me out here losin' point\nI'm cancellin' shoots and I'm cancellin'\u2014\nI'm hitchhiking, you pull over, so invitin'\nThe seat got my name on it, but who driving?\nHe hiatus, we spend time, and we repeat and we rewind it\nYour headlights? It hit my eyelid\nLove is blinding, y'all together? Don't remind me, so confusin'\nWhat we doing? How y'all doing?\nOh, you choosin' him? Okay, I gotta cope with losing, fuck\nI ain't been sleepin' well\nTwin, I'll never tell\nStay busy so I don't think, 'cause downtime is when it sink in\nI stare at old pictures, I, I thought you wanted to dance (Dance)\nI thought you wanted to dance, I\n\nMaybe, maybe (For you)\nWhat's the chance, though?\nI wish that we had better timing\nI'll save a dance just for you\nSo don't forget about me, ba-ba-ba-da\nI'll save a dance just for you\nI wish that we had better timing\nI'll save a dance just for you (Only for you, only for you)\nSo don't forget about me (No), ba-ba-ba-da\nI'll save a dance just for you"}
{"text":"Runnin' out of time, runnin' out of time, runnin' out of time\nRunnin' out of time to make you love me\nRunnin' out of time, runnin' out of time\nTo make you love me\n\nSecrets\nOh, you spin my head around (Oh, you spin my head around)\nI been lookin' for it (For it, for it)\nI been runnin' out of spells\nTo make you love me\nSecrets\nKeep it up\nTo make you love me (Ah)\nWade in your water (Wade in your water)\nYour waves wash over me\nI drift to the deep end\nDon't save, don't save, don't save\nIt's a low tide (I'll be fine)\nI found peace in drownin'\n\nRunnin' out of time, runnin out of time, runnin' out of time\nRunnin' out of time to make you love me\nYou might also like\nLivin' in pretend\nKeep it a buck fifty, fuck\nAre you livin' in pretend?\nAre you\u2013\n\nSo\nTake your mask off\nI need her out the picture (Wade in your water)\nTake your mask off (Yeah)\nStop lyin' for these niggas\nStop lyin' to yourself\nI know the real you\nDon't save, don't save, don't save\nHalloween ain't for a minute, lose the costume\nYou need to chill, okay\nBeen runnin' from the targets and 'em back in the day\nAnd now they working their all, another track out the DAW\nActin' a fool, actin' a ball, we packin' the park, yeah\nBut I'm still runnin'\nOut of time\n\nOf time, of time\nRunnin' outta\nOf time\nStill runnin' outta\nOf time\nStill runnin' outta time\nTime\nYeah"}
{"text":"Poppa ain't call even though he saw me on TV, it's all good (Fuck you)\nBut now my balls, balls deep in this broad's jaw\nSwallow girl, it's just nut\nBitches scared to let me smash on they ass\nYeah, they heard I'm fuckin' nuts like the swag of a fag\nLike me and Tekeli was gagging in the back of the cabin\nCamp Flog Gnaw, nigga, you can tell by the badge\n(Hodgy, pass me my inhaler)\nI'm sick of hacking and coughing, I'm often this fucking awesome\nI'm animal, Noah's arking, all from this rapping nonsense\nFour stories in my home like \"What the fuck's an apartment?\" (nigga?)\nGet shit poppin' like Peter's pores during puberty\nTake bets on how quick Tyler can reach maturity\nCussing out Siri like a waitress with no patience\nOh, you want a tip bitch, well here's my dick for gratiturity, bitch\n\nShut 'em down!\nNigga, shut 'em down!\nShut 'em down!\n\nI tumble-crush on huzzy sluts, give money up then nutty butt\nProfessor Nutty Buddy Klump gets petty when you touch his lunch\nLike, what the fuck? I'm drunk as fuck, turn the fucking music up\nSo I can't hear these stupid fucks, talk-no-walk, let you discuss\nYou're talking too much, who the fuck are you to us? Uterus\nI put that on my pubes and nuts, if I don't begin moving up\nI'm shooting up, you and her crew on turf, new dessert\nI can see the bitch in a nigga through his shirt\nI can smell the whore on a bitch when she flock around my crew to flirt\nIt's on ya' shoulder, lose the dirt, yeah, it's the movement first\nFuck a human nurse! I'm ill I used this earth to infuse the birth\nOf my scrotum on the Channel 10 news, my only motive is to\nSkip to my Lou, get hip to the pew\nYou can drink piss and eat a dick in a few, the sickening view\nOf visuals, woo, I'll eat your ribs, I'm a wolf\nThen meet your kids after school, and give them drugs cause it's cool, fucker\nYou might also like\nShut 'em down!\nNigga, shut 'em down!\nShut 'em down!\nHodgy, fuck this beat, nigga, let's smoke weed\nThat shit I need, be the shit that's green\nA little purple and pink, come get some Swisher Sweets\nAbout three or four more than needed be\nI got a eighth I could face, I got a blunt flavored grape\nI hate the grape, I could taste it when I'm inhaling the vapes\nYou could smell us in places when we walk in our clothing is always covered in flakes\nEnough for two shake blunts; and what the fuck is this? Uh...\nI think this Mary is laced; my heart is beating at paces\nThat Pacquiao can't relate I'm fucking faded like gradients\nShit, I'm stuck like the tape that's superglued\nTo the center of Kelly Price first waist\nIt's like my first date with Mrs. Mary, the shit is scary\nThe paranoia from this marijuana's very heavy, I'm lifted\nFainted by my fifth hit, Lionel, pass the sherm\nLet's use the Philly as a dipstick for this bath salt, you dipshit\n\nC'mon, my nigga! You don't even smoke, you weak as fuck, my nigga. You do not smoke, no tucks, my nigga. You're as weak as f- you\u2019re butt my nigga. Oh, mark ass nigga, Cuh, oh my God, bro. Here come this weak-ass nigga, Samuel"}
{"text":"\nUhm, I said, the party isn't over\nWe could still dance, but I don't have no rhythm\nSo fuck it, take a chance with me\nThe party isn't over, we could still dance girl\nBut I don't have no rhythm\nSo fuck it, take a chance with a nigga\nLike me, like me\nUhm, I said, the party isn't over\nWe could still dance, but I don't have no rhythm\nSo fuck it, take a chance with me\nThe party isn't over, we could still dance girl\nBut I don't have no rhythm\nSo fuck it, take a chance with a nigga\nLike me, like me\n\nYeah, um\nAll I needed was a stick, grab the marshmallows\nMotherfuckers getting lynched and burned\nI earned it, my Flog Gnaw badge is looking good\nOn this brand new jacket\nThe donuts on the flag waving over the cabin\nNow grab them graham crackers and pass them over here\nHurry, quickly I need a piece of Hersheys\nDarker than the corners of the bushes we be lurking\nI centered the mellow over the graham\nHeated it too long now, it's melting over my hand\nFuck it, I'll bite it, I burnt it, but I liked it\nCamping with my niggas, its so fucking exciting\nYou might also like\nWe're making s'mores by the campfire\nCamp Flog Gnaw, Golf Wang summer\n\nSat by the fire\nTo witness gentle, but radical\nTransformation ceased to be mindless\nCreate our own sweetness\nAt last growing the heart\n\nYo bring the bass back in\nYeah, haha\nWho ate all the fuckin' chocolate?\nOh that's Domo fat ass, haha\nYeah\nI ain't trying to go home, really\n\nYou remind me of my bimmer\nA lot of trunk space, the perfect two seater\nAnd you got a lot of drive, I\u2019m trying to keep up\nBut it's not a lot of miles on ya meter\nYou remind me of my bimmer\nSee your ignition, baby girl I'm trying to key up\nAnd your headlights are off, I'm trying to see 'em\nBut it's not a lot of miles on ya meter\nSo let me start it up and smash\nPop some Tame Impala, your man got a lame Impala\n(It'll get dark outside soon)\nAnd I'm sharing Slurpees and you ain't even begin to swallow\nYou\u2019re fucking nuts, green top we coupled up\nRun my fingers through em as you wax and buff my muffler\nCause I fingered you, you think the fucking ring is coming up?\n(Where the street lights trail, Oooooooo)\nMaybe, I don\u2019t know, I think you\u2019re chill\n(Ride for)\nRiding on my pegs, and my back against your legs\nAnd a seatbelt is needed if I get between 'em, yeah\n\nYou remind me of my bimmer\nA lot of trunk space, the perfect two seater\nAnd you got a lot of drive, I\u2019m trying to keep up\nBut it's not a lot of miles on ya meter\nYou remind me of my bimmer\nSee your ignition, baby girl I'm trying to key up\nAnd your headlights are off, I'm trying to see 'em\nBut it's not a lot of miles on ya meter\nSo let me start it up and smash\n\nMmmm it\u2019ll get dark outside, soon (My baby, ride for me)\nWhere the street lights trail (My baby, ride for me)\nYou ain\u2019t gotta lie to kick it darling\nIt\u2019s cool we\u2019re moving slow\nYou remind me of my bimmer\nA lot of trunk space, the perfect two seater\nYou got a lot of drive I\u2019m trying to keep up\nBut it's not a lot of miles on ya meter\nYou remind me of my bimmer, smash\nYou remind me of my bimmer\n\nWhere you been, man?\nOh, I had a drop off to make real quick. Hey, have you seen Salem?\nOh she with that new dude, Wolf, or, Darnell, whatever his name is\nFuck that nigga, man. Hey you know where they went?\nI seen 'em going down by the lake\nWhat the fuck!\nYou good man? You need some sherm? I got some\nI got a can of these baked beans too"}
{"text":"Say some more, never want to talk about it\nFeel a way, woah\nFeel a way, woah\nFeel a way, November...\n\nTake me back to November\nTake me back to November\nHawaiian shirts in the winter, cold water, cold water\nYeah, take me back to November, wassup\nCan we go back to November?\nTake me back to November\nHawaiian shirts in the winter, deep thoughts, deep thoughts\nNaw, take me back to November, wassup\nAyo, What if Clancy fuckin' me over?\nWhat if \"Who Dat Boy\" is rhetorical and this shit is over?\nWhat if I'm hustling backwards?\nWhat if my accountant ain't payin' my taxes, fillin' his pockets?\nAnd IRS show up asking me questions I couldn't answer\n'Cause I was too busy tryna make classics\nBoy ain't got no motherfucking classics\nWhat if my music too weird for the masses?\nAnd I'm only known for tweets more than beats or\nAll my day-ones turn to three, fours 'cause of track seven\nFuck, what if I get stuck?\nWhat if I got comfortable? I gotta keep it buck-fifty\nWhat if I lost it all and ended up back in Ladera\nAt them shitty apartments that's across from Bank of America?\nDamn, I would be hurtin'\nWriting all of these songs 'cause Wi-Fi wasn't working (Nah)\nLast year, in total, I put out two verses\nBut five-seven figures since then, life's kinda perfect\nOh, is it really? Oh, is it really? Bitch, you know the dealy\nReally hilly willy tilly silly, hold that billy, how I Milly Rock\nWhen they can't relate him, when they start to hate him\nThey don't drive these cars, so what's their ultimatum?\nTell me, what's your November? Is it a person?\nMine was the summer, '06, I remember the... (horn)\nWhat if I thought the brake was the gas? What if I crashed?\nWhat if these deep thoughts was my last? Let me pull over, quick\nYou might also like\nAnd drive back to November\nTake me back to November\nHawaiian shirts in the winter, cold water, cold water\nYeah, take me back to November, what's up?\nCan we go back to November?\nTake me back to November\nHawaiian shirts in the winter, deep thoughts, deep thoughts\nNaw, take me back to November, wassup\nMy November was those Odd Future Sundays, where we used to just skate all day\nMy November, and I was performing and Lil Wayne rapped with me, I think I cried that night\nMy November was awesome, I booked my first feature film\nMy November was when I was gifted this Getz and Gilberto album\nMy November was seeing Erykah Badu perform\nMy November was... my brother took me to my first concert ever, which was to Kanye West's \"Glow in the Dark...\"\nMy November was summer 2015 when I fell in love with someone who fucked my whole world up, showed me life through a different\n2014, Miami 43rd Street, every day was November\nTake me back, take me back\nTake me back, take me back\nTake me back, take me back, take me back\nTake me back, take me back\nTake me back, take me back\nTake me back, take me back\nTake me back, take me back, take me back\nTake me back, take me back\nI ain't doin' fine, lost my mothafuckin' mind\nTime travel back and help me find\nTake me back, take me back to November, this I know\nTake me back, take me back\nTake me back, take me back to November, this I kn\u2014\n\"My November is right now\"\nI wrote a song about you, I want your opinion\nOpposite of my heart rate, it slows down at the ending\n'Cause the love I got for you has exceeded appearance\nThe lyrics are\u2014\nMatter of fact, I'ma just call you, so you can hear it\nIf you do answer, I'll play it to state facts\nAlthough I already know the response you gon' say back\nAt that point I'll hang up, disappear and just stay back\nAnd if you don't I'll leave a voicemail with the playback\nHello, no one is available to take your call\nPlease leave a message after the tone\n"}
{"text":"Random disclaimer!\nHey, don't do anything that I say in this song, okay?\nIt's fucking fiction\nIf anything happens, don't fucking blame me\nWhite America, fuck Bill O'Reilly\nFour, three, two, one\n\nWhat the fuck I look like? Sayin' I'm sorry\nTo a bunch of fucking fags that can't potentially harm me?\nI ain't never gonna bow down to your expectations\nBy the way, I got sixty fucking wolves that'll guard me\nThat skate hard, Thrash' black hoodies, try something\nMake sure your fuckin' feelings end up up in a Glad bag\nFuck all your opinions, I'm tyin' 'em with a shoestring\n\nAnd fuck the fat lady, it's over when all the kids sing\n\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nI'm fucking radical, nigga, I'm fucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, I'm motherfucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, nigga, I'm fucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, I'm motherfucking radical\nYou might also like\n(Left, right, left, right, left, right)\nOdd Future, Wolf Gang (Left, right, left, right, left, right)\nWe came together 'cause (Left, right, left, right)\nWe ain't have nobody else (Left, right, left, right)\nDo you? (Left, right, left, right)\nYou just might be one of us (Left, right, left, right, left, right)\nAre you? (Left, right)\n\nFuck cops, I'm a fucking rockstar\nRebel and defiance makes my motherfucking cock hard\nFuck pigs, fuck guards, all some fucking retards\nFuck school, I'm a fuck up? Fuck Harvard\nI ain't got no fucking money (Hey, mom)\nI ain't got no motherfucking daddy, he ain't teach me shit\nChild support ain't come, that faggot still ain't bought me anything\n\nFuck the fat lady, it's over when all the kids sing\n\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nI'm fucking radical, nigga, I'm fucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, I'm motherfucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, nigga, I'm fucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, I'm motherfucking radical\n(Left, right, left, right)\nThey want us to go to they schools and (Left, right, left, right, left, right)\nBe fucking miserable at they fucking college, studying that bullshit (Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right)\nFuck that (Left, right)\nDo what the fuck makes you happy (Left, right, left, right)\n'Cause at the end (Left, right, left, right)\nWho's there? You (Left, right, left, right)\n\nFuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nI'm fucking radical, nigga, I'm fucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, I'm motherfucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, nigga, I'm fucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, I'm motherfucking radical\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nKill people, burn shit, fuck school\nI'm fucking radical, nigga, I'm fucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, I'm motherfucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, nigga, I'm fucking radical\nI'm fucking radical, I'm motherfucking radical\nYou hear that, nigga?\nThat's cult shit right there, nigga\nWolf Gang!\nFuck everybody else, nigga!\nStand for somethin', get money, nigga!\nWolf Gang in this bitch, nigga, we sixty deep\nFuck with me, nigga\nOdd Future, nigga\nStand the fuck up! (Left, right, left, right)\nI'm not sayin' just to go out and do some stupid shit, commit crimes (Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right)\nWhat I'm trying to tell you is (Left, right, left, right)\nDo what the fuck you want (Left, right, left, right)\nStand for what the fuck you believe in, and don't let nobody tell you can't do what the fuck you want (Left, right, left, right, left, right, left, right)\nI'm a fucking unicorn (Left, right)\nAnd fuck anybody, who say I'm not (Left, right, left, right)\nWolf Gang\n\nFuck your traditions (and), fuck your positions (and)\nFuck your religion (and), fuck your decisions\n(See) They're not mine, so you gotta let 'em go\nSee, we can be ourselves, but you gotta let us know\nFuck your traditions (and), fuck your positions (and)\nFuck your religion (and), fuck your decisions\n(See) They're not mine, you gotta let 'em go\nSee, we can be ourselves, but you gotta let us know\nFuck your traditions (and), fuck your positions (and)\nFuck your religion (and), fuck your decisions\n(See) They're not mine, so you gotta let 'em go\nSee, we can be ourselves, but you gotta let us know\nGo\nYou gotta let 'em go, let 'em go\nYou gotta let 'em\u2014\nGo\nYou gotta let 'em go, let 'em go\nYou gotta let 'em\u2014 (You gotta)\nGo\n\nYou gotta let these shits go, man. (You gotta let 'em go, let 'em go)\nIt's not making sense to you right now, but (You gotta let 'em, go, let 'em go), all these little dreams you got, they're not shit. (Let 'em go, you gotta let 'em, go)\nAll this rebellion (You gotta let 'em go), all this crazy shit you got, saying this shit (Let 'em go, you gotta let 'em, go), getting too old for this shit, man, you gotta grow out of it. (You gotta let 'e, go)\nGrowing up, your dreams are getting bigger. (Let 'em go, you gotta let 'em, go)\nYou gotta look at reality, understand that shit, so you don't get caught. (You gotta let 'em go)\nI'm just bein' real (Let 'em go)\nNigga, fuck you (You gotta let 'em\u2014)\nI'm just trying to help you, man (You gotta let 'em go), trust me (Let 'em go, you gotta let 'em, go)\nLook, I mature day after day, nigga (For real), you don't know shit (You gotta let 'em go), you're a fucking therapist\nWhatever (Let 'em go, you gotta let 'em\u2014)"}
{"text":"Ayo\nLet's take it back to them days\nCounting sheep on Sadie Hannah's floor\nCarpet was my baby mama\n80 dollar profit from the coffee I poured\nRent-A-Center calling everyday\nNobody home, they're knocking on the door\nNow I skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt (Skrrt!)\nIn toys I only dreamed that I could afford\nNow I roll through Okaga\n\nI ride to California (Yeah)\nThese frog oval goggles\nI'm leanin' out the window\nOJ shinin' on me (Oh, ooh)\nSimp sun shinin' on me (ayy, yeah)\nSlick circles float roll\nOut this world\nYeah, yeah\n\nRun it, run it, run it, run it\nI rock, I roll, I bloom, I grow (I glow)\nI rock, I roll (What you say?), I bloom, I grow (I glow)\nI rock, I roll (Let 'em know), I bloom, I grow (I glow)\nI rock, I roll (One more time), I bloom, I grow\n(Let's go!)\nYou might also like\nAin't nobody fucking with T, but that just may be my ego\nBut don't be too cool, you might freeze\nBecause niggas get stuck in the cold (Man, look at this ice)\nShit weighs a ton\nWater your garden, my nigga (Stunt on these niggas!)\nTell these black kids they could be who they are\nDye your hair blue, shit, I'll do it too (What the fuck?)\nLook, I smell like Chanel\nI never mall grip with my manicured nails\nI coconut oil the skin\nI keep the top low 'cause the follicles thinnin'\nBut other than that, man, it feels like I'm winning (I'm winnin', nigga)\nWent from statistic to millionaire\nCNN doubted 'cause my skin is dark\nThen they forget when I get in my car\n\nThese frog oval goggles\nI'm leanin' out the window\nOJ shinin' on me (Oh, ooh)\nSimp sun shinin' on me\nSlick circles roll float\nOut this world\nYeah, yeah\nRun it, run it, run it, yeah\n(Ohh, ohh!)\nI glow (I glow)\nI rock, I roll (What you say?), I bloom, I grow (I glow)\nI rock, I roll (Let 'em know), I bloom, I grow (I glow)\nI rock, I roll (One more time), I bloom, I\u2014\n(Let's go!)\n\nFlower boy T, nigga, that's me\nRooted from the bottom, bloomed into a tree\nTook a lil' while, nigga makin' leaves\nKeep it in my branches so my family can eat\nFavorite color green, energy is skrong\nGiving niggas life, birdies and the beez\nDroppin' them seeds, not what you want\nYou don't know what I keep in the trunk\n\nAh, shit!\n\nAhh, ahh\nAhh\nRun it, run it, run it, run it\nRun it\nRun it\nRun it"}
{"text":"Uh, addicts arise when I arrive\nIn this cracked crack fag back slab in disguise\nFat sack of knives in the passenger side\nBitch, reach for the door, get your access denied\nI'm not an asshole, I just don't give a fuck a lot\nThe only time I do is when a bitch is screaming \"Tyler, stop!\"\nThe big bad wolf; to me, you're just a minor fox\nRed Riding is getting some of this wolfly odder cock\nWe the niggas you scared of like bad dentists\nFlow is anthemic, dirty like it's plants in it\nSick, spit a pandemic, crack and cancer mixed with cannabis\nTo have a bitch ready to stab a clit with some glass and shit\nYour whole gang'll be diminished, bunch got the Brady's in it\nSpit sick shit like my saliva got the rabies in it\nFuck rap, I'll be a landlord so I can rape the tenant's daughter\nLeave my house with a new stomach, and a baby in it\nFace it, me and Ace is sick like malaria carri\u2014\n\n\"Augh! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, stop!\"\n\"Why did you do that?\"\n\"Say sorry, say sorry!\"\n\"Sorry! I'm sorry as fuck!\n\"Say sorry!\"\n\"I'm sorry as fuck, ow, ow!\"\n\"Say sorry!\"\n\"I'm sorry! Don't look at this!\"\n\"Say sorry\"\n\"Don't look at this, ow stop!\"\n\"Say sorry!\"\n\"Ow! Stop 'fore you fuck something up!\"\n\"Say, \"Sorry!\"\n\"Say, \"Sor-\"\n\"Sorry, sorry\u2014Uncle!\"\n\"I fucked this nigga eye up man haha\"\nYou might also like\nFace it, me and Ace is sick like malaria carriers\nJim Carrey her to the cemetery to bury her\nListen busters, scarier when I finger fuck her\nAfter I dig her up and then eat her out with a bit of mustard\nTook karate, mommy told me \"Tyler toughen up\"\nRihanna haircut, somebody tell Chris Brown to fuck me up\nHad to teach the bitch manners, now I gotta learn her\nI'll beat the fuck out your bitch anonymous, Ike Turner\nOver, sloppy seconds is my preference\nExcept for when I'm feeding on the flesh of a pedestrian\nNessy loch monster stop Will he though? Probably not\nSilly hoes lick my balls like FIFA lollipops\nGet the certain tingle, eating H\u00e4agen-Dazs\nWith some soccer moms where they like to fucking sit and mingle\nWatch an Animal Planet document on the Eagles\nIn the flyest '06 Supreme beanie, Sigel\nYour grind's feeble, I'm regal, really, I'm Willy Smith\nI am Legend, a snicker dick in a vanilli chick\nCome take a stab at it faggot, I pre-ordered your casket\nThis is known as a classic, yeah that chapped lips crack shit\nHat is always forest so the bitches call me Gump\nBut compliment her tits and then its off to hump her\nFuck her in a Hummer while I rape her then I put her in a slumber\nIt's not a figure of speech when I tell you that I dumped her\nKnown narcissists, sipping on arsenic\nCarved carcasses in the garage, don't park in it\nHard as finding retarded kids at Harvard\nIt's Wolf Gang barking keep you up like car alarms and shit\nOver the edge, yeah I hide in a potato sack\n'Cause I'm cold as ice like Anasia when she fucking Traq\nI'm the type to put you down to bring myself up\nSo when I rape a bitch I hold her down and get my best nut\nThe reincarnation of '98 Eminem\n60 Crip and Grizzly and some RMK Denim\nPay attention I'm stabbing your women friends, like a gentleman\nThen dipping with the fucking pen to go sin again\nWhite girl, you can ask her what the dick be like\nAt monster madness doing drive by's on a fucking fixie bike\nFuck it, moron, snorting oxycontin, wearing cotton\nOxymoron like buff faggots playing sissy dikes\nThis the shit that get cripple bitches to hop\nDirty crack pipes lit, bullshit to stop, halt\nBoss broke, spouse choke, blouse open\nSly's little shop of horrors, now showing\nI hate gays, gangbangers and fucking jerkers\nUnless it's gay gangbangers, that's fucking jerkers\nWhoa yo, yo.. no homo, I'm not gay, faggot\nOdd Future Wolf Gang, Wu-Tang banging in your system\nProbably banging in your sister\nWith my children swimming in her system\nLet me say this shit in slow-mo, homo\nYou don't fucking skate, take off that box logo"}
{"text":"Odd Future\nWolf Gang\nThey are them\nWe are us\nKill them all (Do it with me)\nWolf Gang, Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang, come on\nWolf Gang, Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang, bitch, bitch over there in the yellow, come on\nWolf Gang, Wolf Gang\nSay it loud!\nLike you mean it!\nWolf Gang, Wolf Gang\nNigga had the fucking nerve to call me immature\nFuck you think I made Odd Future for?\nTo wear fucking suits and make good decisions?\nFuck that nigga, Wolf Gang\n\nWho the fuck invited Mr. I Don't Give a Fuck\nWho cries about his daddy in a blog because his music sucks? (I did!)\nWell, you fucking up, and truthfully I had enough\nAnd fuck rolling papers, I'm a rebel, bitch, I'm ashing blunts (Sorry)\nFull of shit, like I ate that john\nCome on kids, fuck that class and hit that bong\nLet's buy guns and kill those kids with dads and mom\nWith nice homes, 401ks, and nice ass lawns\nThose privileged fucks got to learn that we ain't taking no shit\nLike Ellen DeGeneres clitoris is playing with dick\nI'm jealous as shit, cause I ain't got no home meal to come to\nSo, if you do, I'm throwing fingers out screaming \"fuck you\"\nI got ten of these Kennedy's\nNot Dom, but if I was a Dahm, I would be Jeffery\n'Preme hat the color of a leprechaun with leprosy\nI'm fucking 'bout it, 'bout it, like I'm Master P in '96\nIt's fucking immaculate, the way your daughter smacking dicks\nSurprised she hasn't taken gymnastic dick inside her alley-oop\nThe Golf Wang hooligans is fucking up the school again\nAnd showing you and yours that breaking rules is fucking cool again\nI'm going harder than a midget jumping over me\nChronic youth, I'm shoving blunt wraps in bitches ovaries\nPunches to the stomach where that bastard kid supposed to be\nFuck a mask, I want that ho to know it's me, ugh\nYou might also like\nWolf Gang, Wolf Gang\nIt's the Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang\nWolf Wolf Gang, it's the Wolf Gang\nIt's the Wolf Gang, Golf Wang\nIt's the Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang\nWolf Gang, triple six crew\nIt's the Wolf Gang, Golf Wang\nWolf Gang kill them\n\nMy love is gone for you mami, you could ride in hearses\nI'm sick in the brain dumb bitch, can you nurse this?\nYou told me life would never, ever, ever get this perfect\nThen you smoke a J of weed, and take his kids to the churches\nUh, fuck church, they singing and the shit ain't even worth it\nIn the choir, whores and liars, scumbags and the dirt, bitch\nYou told me God was the answer\nWhen I ask him for shit, I get no answer, so God is the cancer\nI'm stuck in triangles, looking for my angel\nKill me with a chainsaw, and let my balls dangle\nTriple six is my number, you can get it off my Tumblr\n\nWolf Gang, Wolf Gang\nIt's the Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang\nWolf Wolf Gang, it's the Wolf Gang\nIt's the Wolf Gang, Golf Wang\nIt's the Wolf Gang, Wolf Gang\nWolf Gang, triple six crew\nIt's the Wolf Gang, Golf Wang\nWolf Gang kill them\nIt was hilarious, well it ain't fucking funny now\nI'll push this fucking pregnant clown into a hydrant stuck in the ground\nI step through the stomach, replace the baby with some fucking pounds\n\"My baby daddy shoot bricks, the nigga also shoot rounds\"\nCause if I shoot blanks, oops, thanks\nI'm right back in it dead yummy and her mildew stank\n\nFree Earl, that's the fucking shit\nAnd if you disagree, suck a couple pimple-covered dicks\nUm, Wolf Gang, that's the fucking clique\nGolf Wang kill them all nigga, triple six\nFuck 2DopeBoyz, all them niggas bitches\nWe don't need y'all, The Fader's who we really fucking with, bitch\n\nAnd we don't fucking make horrorcore, you fucking idiots\nListen deeper than the music before you put it in a box, Wolf Gang"}
{"text":"Da na na na na, da na na na na\nDa na na na na, my baby\nYou've been on my mind (How ya feel?)\nI'm losing my mind because\nI hope that we can be more than just friends\nFireworks, I feel like glitter\nAnd every time you come around, I feel like glitter (How ya feel?)\nYou're the one that I needed in my life (How ya feel?)\nYou're the one that I needed in my life\n\nAyo, mirror mirror on the wall, who the brightest of them all?\nI never been the darkest one 'cause my self esteem is tall\nSo I never seen eye-to-eye with y'all niggas, ayo\nUno peso, never paid attention to what niggas gotta say-o\nSo I keep that buck, I ain't give no fuck\nThey ain't build me up so I block 'em like Lego\nFeelin' glitter, feelin' good and great\nGot the burner, got the heat, like wait\nGot the shit, it's all up on that hip\nI'll use it on myself on the day you dip\nGot that 4, 5, 7, track 8 for me\nBaby doll, I hope you agree\nBecause you light my\nYou might also like\nFireworks, I feel like glitter (I don't even know what that means)\nAnd every time you come around, I feel like glitter\n(How ya feel?) You're the one that I needed in my life\n(How ya feel?) You're the one that I needed in my life\n'Cause I love having you around (I love)\n'Cause I love having you around\n\nYeah, look at my face, look at that joy\nThis is one sided, yeah, I can't lie\nWe ain't gon' work out, we a fat boy\nYeah, sumo, got it, memo\nPale skin see-through, must be a window\n'Cause you ain't an L, could be a DJ\nWhen I see you, my heart beat changes tempo\nYeah, simple, that's what I want but I can't\nThat's who you are but I ain't (How ya feel?)\nWe can track 10 skiptrace, I'm caught in your quicksand, wait\nPlease don't save me\n\nOoooh\n(Please don't save me, yeah)\nHow ya feel?\n(Rose tinted cheeks)\nHow ya feel?\nHow ya feel?\nHow ya feel?\nHow ya feel?\nHow ya feel?\n(Scum Fuck Flower Boy)\nHow ya feel?\n(Scum Fuck Flower Boy)\nHow ya feel?\n(Scum Fuck Flower Boy)\nHow ya feel?\nHow ya feel?\nWe didn't get your message, either because you were not speaking or because of a bad connection\nFuck"}
{"text":"Right now we got some new music only here on Golf Radio!\n(God I love this sample)\nWe're going to dance\nAnd exercise\nAnd have some fun\nI ain't got time for these niggas\nBetter throw a watch at the boy\nHad my boys in this bitch, looking like a seminar\nWho the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?\nBoy, I ain't got time for these bitches\nBetter throw a clock at these hoes\nHave these hoes in this bitch looking for a water hose\nWho the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?\nBoy, I ain't got time\n\nBoy, I need a Kleenex\nHow I got this far? Boy, I can't believe it\nThat I got this car, so I take the scenic\nPassenger a white boy, look like River Phoenix\nFirst, happy birthday!\nYou bitch-ass nigga, yup, I'm thirsty\nThem little shots that you threw, they ain't hurt me\nI ain't fuck with your bitch-ass in the first place\nYou might also like\nI ain't got time for these niggas\nBetter throw a watch at the boy\nHad my boys in this bitch, looking like a seminar\nWho the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?\nBoy, I ain't got time for these bitches\nBetter throw a clock at these hoes\nHave these hoes in this bitch looking for a water hose\nWho the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?\nBoy, I ain't got time\n\nNat Turner would be so proud of me\n'Cause all these motherfuckers got they style from me\nI bet they all looking from the crowd at me\nAnd if I ask them, they would bow at me\nBut you're a house nigga, so you don't know\nHow that shit go, with my big lips and my big nose\nAnd my big dick and my short hair\n'Cause you already know how slow my shit grow\n\n(Hey)\nTick, tock\nTick, tock (Uh)\nTick, tock\nTick, tock (Yeah)\nTick, tock\nTick, tock (Ayo)\nTick, tock\nTick, tock\nBeen the man with a pickle plan, niggas know the dill\nWhen I sell the carnival, I bet I get a 100 mil' (Hey)\nNext line will have 'em like \"whoa\"\nI've been kissing white boys since 2004\nOne me, two feet, three M's\nFour, five, six years ago sucked\nSeven figure conversations with Converse finalized\n'Cause Vans fucked up\nI'ma read commas, you gon' leave comments\nSaying what I shoulda did, but you ain't did nada\nYou ain't important\nI'ma keep sporting\nAll smiles over here\nShout out to The Garden\n(Tick-tock)\n(And that's a fact boy!)\nAnd I just handle all my business like a chessboard\n(Tick tock, tick, tock)\nAnd at them Golf boys? That's my motherfucking set, boy\nHard pill to swallow like some thick soda\nWalk weird 'cause my pockets look like thick Yoda\nWith a Skywalker, riding 'round solar\nAnakin skin Sprite, and my tint cola\nGetting neck from a broad like some big shoulders\nTill I bust like that 9 in ya heat holster\nEverything I say is hot, bitch I speak toaster\nAnd the bread orthodox like I eat kosher\nShout out to (shhh) they gave a big loaf of\nGreen bread, got me chilling like a clean sofa\nWhat's that thick odor?\nYoung Millie T\nA young, focused black boy, oh silly me\n(I ain't got time!)\nBetter talk shit\n'Cause I'm either in my Cons or my Golf shit\nPants got a lil flood, nigga pipe down\nI'm Lil Boosie, Lil Boosie, way I wipe down\n(Boy, I ain't got time!) Yeah, right now\n'Cause niggas dying every day and I ain't light brown\nAnd i-D ain't wanna give a nigga no post\nSo I went and did a 12-page spread in Vogue\n(Nigga I ain't got time!)\n\nListen, man, I'm that boy\nAll you little niggas clones\nBoy I fill that void\nYou better kill that noise\nTurn around and remap route\nWhen they see that boy with them big ears and that gap tooth\nTick, tock\nBitch\nTick, tock\nTick, tock\nCause I ain't got ti-\nSugar\nOh!\nYou're so sweet\nFuck?\nThey should call you sugar\n'Cause you're so s-\nHello?"}
{"text":"Rolls-Royce pull up, Black boy hop out\nShoutout to my mother, and my father didn't\u2014 (Hold up)\n\"Oh, my God, I never seen nothin' like this\"\nHaha, that's what my mom was sayin'\nShe, she was cryin' and shit\nIt was, she was just like, \"This shit is beautiful\"\nIt was a beautiful moment\nYou alway\u2013 you always keep the picnic blankets in the back\n'Cause you, you never know (Gangsta Grillz)\nYou never know where the fuck you gon' end up at\n(Okay, haha, let's go, now we ready)\n\nRolls-Royce pull up, Black boy hop out\nShoutout to my mother, and my father didn't pull out\nMSG sell out, fuck these niggas yap 'bout?\nWhips on whips, my ancestors got they backs out (Yeah, oh)\nToo far? Five hundred stacks for the hood (I dare you, nigga)\nCall me lumb\u0435rjack 'cause I wish a nigga would race (Uh-huh, right)\nDo it like I? This th\u0435 wish-a-nigga-could face (Uh)\nThey ain't gettin' paper like they should, wait\n(You niggas woulda, coulda, shoulda, oh, shit)\n\nNiggas ain't really on the type of shit he on\nI hit Drizzy and told him I had a milli' for him (Oh shit)\nI own my companies full, told 'em to keep the loan\nI took that gold bitch home, niggas was big mad (Ugh, oh shit)\nI put that bitch on the shelf to let it ventilate\nAnd bought another car 'cause I ain't know how to celebrate (Top shelf, nigga)\nThat big boy, that big bitch for all weather\nIt never rain in Cali', came with an umbrella (Ooh)\nYou might also like\nRolls-Royce pull up, Black boy hop out (Man, what the fuck?)\nShoutout to my mother, and my father didn't pull out\nMSG sell out, fuck these niggas yap 'bout? (Sold out)\nGood credit score, this card really can't max out (Wow)\nToo far? Five hundred stacks for the hood\nCall me lumberjack 'cause I wish a nigga would race (Uh-huh)\nNigga this the face, man I wish a nigg\u2014 (It's the face)\nIt's different, it's really different (Catch up, niggas)\n\nAyo, I might just sled in Utah, LA is too warm\nMy nigga tall, he look like a bitch, I call him Mulan (Hey, oh)\nSalad colored emerald on finger, the size of croutons\nNiggas can not fuck with performance of magic (Oh), new wand (Nigga)\nThat's my nuance, used to be the weirdo (Ah)\nUsed to laugh at me, listen to me with their ears closed\nUsed to treat me like that boy off Malcolm in the Middle  (Why I'm motherfuckin' rich)\nNow I'm zero, zero, zero, zero, zero, zero (That's six)\n\nRolls-Royce pull up (Zero), Black boy hop out (That's seven)\nNah, I can't take this shit no more, man, I quit\nThat's it, I quit, I swear to God, nigga\nFuck niggas talking to me about? Close y'all fuckin' faces\nQuality Wednesday music\nWish-a-nigga-could face\n(Them stones is cloudy, nigga) Oh yeah, you asked for it\n(Fuckin' crumbs) Wish-a-nigga-would face\nFuck you mean, nigga?"}
{"text":"Man, now they go (ayo)\nI cut off some friends, where they go?\n(Did this shit in one take, ayo)\nI stick to the plan, that's the goal\n(Ayo, that\u2019s that fire shit, nigga, ayo)\nFuck these niggas man, man, man, man (Run it, run it)\n\nCheck my bankroll, ayo, 400K for vehicle\nPaintjob look like ashy ankles on Django, interior look mango\nShotgun grape, he look like mayo\nGolden voice on payroll, neck all gold like Kayo Corp\nWe aim at dorks, get out the way, yo\nKeep them bucks in banks like Yayo\nSwampy niggas out the bayou\nPockets flooded, y'all be dilute\nWatered down, I'm Big Mac\nI'm quarter pound, you chicken nugget\nFuck it, travel bag Balenciaga, 30,000 just for luggage\nFinancial advisor buggin', Flower Boy is buzzin'\nGrammy-nominated, tell yo' cousin ain't nobody fuckin' with him\n\nMan, now they go\nI cut off some friends, where they go?\nI stick to the plan, that's the goal\nFuck these niggas man, that's for sure\nYou might also like\nSay\nUno the shoe, red with the blue\nLook like a flag, what the fuck it do?\nGolf be the set, no more OF\nLike Ron Artest, bitch, we aim for your neck\nGive a fuck about you or your respect\nYeah, that way, fuck your accolades\nBut I made the cut like I pack a blade\nYou could call me Brush, I've been makin' waves\nSince Ashley Banks' cousin had a fade\nBut that's '92, I'm '91 (Hey!)\nWatts Riot in my blood, nigga what's up\nAnd that pussy pink like the drink in my cup\nLemonade, yeah it's Minute Maid\nI been gettin' paid, pockets gainin' weight\nYour bank statements on Mary Kate, but that's up to you, haha\n\nMan, now they go\n(I ain't fuckin' with none of these niggas, man)\nI cut off some friends, where they go?\n(Yeah, give these niggas information nigga)\nI stick to the plan, that's the goal\n(Now we never fuckin' stop)\nFuck these (Ayo) niggas man, that's for sure (Ayo)\nTell Tim Chalamet to come get at me\nSkin glowin', clear of acne\nDiamonds see-through, so holographic\nRed Ones look like Aidan Mackey\nSpent dinero like Taxi Driver (Skrrt!)\nHandmade is that thing with tires\nBut I rode the bike and Vill tail behind me\nAnd he got the Cannon like he bagged Mariah\n(Pew, pew, pew, pew, pew)\nYeah, we straight but if you wrinkle up the situation he will go grab the iron\nAnd he do what I says like Simon\n(No violence)\nAnd my bitch mixed like jambalaya\nMan, fuck with the fam, we in Japan\nBitch you\u2019re a bum, see you don't understand\nYeah, I cut off some friends, \"T where you been?\"\nBitch I'm in Bel-Air, been lookin' for land\nNeed a spot in the hills, not the beach, need a pool\nJust to cool it, I do need the grass, not the sand\nGot enough rocks, see, check my hand\nAnd I got crack, watch how I talk\nAnd it's still Wolf Gang, bitch, watch how I bark (Sike)\nWallace still trippin' on shit that I bought\nBut I really do not care the cost 'cause...\nMan, now they go\nI cut off some friends"}
{"text":"Ahem, fuck, yeah\n\nMet you on a Saturday, knew it was somethin' soon as you spoke it\nEye fuckin' across the table, don't think anybody noticed\nYou asked me if I was comin' to city you from\nMaybe we should kick it, I was interested, that would be dumb\nIf I denied long legs, good ears, great taste\nSmell good, sense of humor, obvious a good face\nAnd we clicked, we was at each other's hips\nI ain't even wanna fuck 'cause your presence was enough\nYou and I make sense, you stayed back at my telly\nWe was chattin' 'til mornin', the vibrations was heavy\nI wasn't drownin' or yawnin', that's when I told you my feelings\nYou told me you felt the same, but you got homie you dealin' with\nDamn, I didn't know, that's a bit unexpected\nBut I get it, it's whatever, least I can do is respect it\nWe still gon' kick it and check-in like nothin' could ever stop it\nThe problem is he my friend, but if I'm honest, I'm really hopin' you drop him\nIt's morals I really have, it's lines I could never cross\nBut you got somethin' that make all them good intentions get lost\nI try to keep it together, never felt this way\nWe spent 'bout two weeks together, only skipped one day\nAnd they say, \"Bros over hoes,\" I'm like, \"Mm, nah, hey\"\nI would rather hold your hand than have a cool handshake\nBut whatever, we still could be friends, it could still be chance\nI'ma play it cool, we got somethin', we cannot pretend, uh, uh\nYou might also like\nIt's, it's like starting a race\nAnd then when you take off, they like, \"No, no, it's not a end,\" ha\nIt was too late and shit\n\nFaceTimin', it ain't 'bout nothin', you laughin', packin' your luggage\nIt's nothin' incriminatin', but please delete our discussions\nYou hit me with the look and replied like, \"Duh, bitch\"\nDon't want your man to think that we creepin' behind his back\nCross the line, cross the line, cross the\u2014 nah, we never did that\nThough I haven't seen him in months, shit is rare he never hit back\nAnyway, convince him to bring you to me so we could kick it\nRight in front of his lenses, nothing here is malicious\nYou sat by me in that movie, we went outside for them doobies\nWe walkin' off when we talk, man, that nigga not fuckin' stupid\nHe see it, he know it's somethin' we frontin' like, \"Ha-ha-ha\"\nWhenever we \"Ha-ha-ha,\" we subtly press his buttons\nNot on purpose, but, man, I found my purpose\nIf I fucked our friendship up for you, I think it's worth it\nBut, nah, I can't do that, that nigga don't deserve it\nAnd plus y'all got depth, I'm just the nigga on the surface, for real\nSurface\n\nI said surface, like, 'cause they got roots\nLike, I'm the new nigga\nBut you know, they be fuckin', haha\nYeah, yeah\nDidn't see you a couple weeks, think he want you away from me\nKnow y'all argued 'bout if you mad you met him before you met me\nI feel guilty, but not as much as I should\nI tried to have that self-control, but not as much as I could\nI been down for days, you in my city and I can't see your face\nI can't eat knowin' you with him and not at my place\nI never been jealous of another man\nEspecially when I have everything I want at hand\nExcept you, you\n\nYou know, I got every damn car, multiple cribs\nBut it's like, \"No, I want that,\" ha\n\nHe left for some days, I cleared out my sched', I cleared out my head\nYou dropped off at mine, I say that we fled, \"No, you pick a place\"\nWe could Tulum, or we could Capri, or die right here\nAs long as you with me, I'll be at peace, huh\nYou was supposed to go back home to see your bestie\nI told you I can't hit that zone, too busy next week\nYou was like, \"Hmm, I'll stay a week, she'll get over that\"\nSeven days with me, your nigga like, \"Where the fuck you at?\"\nDirtyin' my bakin' pots, tennis at my mama spot\nChauffeured in the Rolls, the back entrance for them restaurants\nParks playin' chess games, givin' wigs pet names\nManicures, night swims, Jerrod providin' methane\nShoppin' 'til we droppin', what you coppin'?\nSee, the price is not a option\nIt's investments 'cause your smile is the profit to me\nI know around him, you gotta act like you not into me\nI know your answer, but you gotta keep it honest with me\nSaid you can't fully be into me 'cause you with him\nThen why the fuck when we link it's like he doesn't exist?\nThey all know that we friends, but we both aware that it's more\nEverything I got, if you say the word, then it's yours\nThe only thing I'm missin' in life, I know you could be it\nAnd everyone around me that care about me can see it\nI could fuck a trillion bitches every country I done been in\nMen or women, it don't matter, if I seen 'em, then I had 'em\nBut with you, it's a feeling 'cause we twinnin' and we matchin'\nYou stayed in the car when I went on date with that actress\nWhole time I'm eatin', I couldn't wait to get back\nIn the back of the car with you and talk about who we are\nYou told me when you with me, it's like heroin\nTold me that your confidence went up since we befriended, and\nTold me that you didn't wanna hurt him, why we doin' this?\nTold me this a awkward situation and you just wanna be through with it\nTold me every time you not with him, it started problems, and\nTold me every time you not with me, you always ponder\nWhat type of sweater I'm wearin', what music have I been finding\nGirl, you know that I'ma play it whenever, that's what we bonded over\nYou said you told him the truth and you never lied\nNow he lookin' at you with them eyes\nWe never crossed the line, but he got every right to be a lil' pissed off\nHe picked you up, y'all got an argument, he got his shit off\nMy energy like, \"Get lost,\" your energy just want peace\nI couldn't even tell you his energy 'cause he don't speak\nHe ain't even call you his bitch\nUntil he see me make you smile, that nigga threatened as shit\nI'm in the wrong, though\nI picked you up, your energy off\nYour lips really dry, something is off\nYou ask if I gotta, I ask if you gotta\nWe trip on our words, nobody is lyin', hakuna matata\nWe sat in the car and cried for a hour\nMy shirt look like a showerhead got it, we called it off\nI'll skip the details but that night I seen hell\nYou was in a room I was payin' for, I took three Ls\nNo, I didn't sleep well, woke up and my knees fell\nThey buckled to the ground, I cannot walk, shit, I need Vill\nNext day I'm drivin' 'round the city with no destination back-up\nWater in my eyes kept falling like Niagara\nVill right beside me makin' sure I didn't crash or\nDo something heinous 'cause I'm emotionally jabbed up\nYou checked every box, I thought it was it\nFelt like I got led on and pushed off a cliff\nNo, I'm in the wrong, that was a friend\nNo, fuck that, the energy we had, never again will find it\nYou in the wrong, gotta remind you 'bout the times that you stepped\nGotta rewind it\u2014 aw, fuck\nWe talkin' 'bout our kinks, real cautious with the links\nYou don't do that type of shit when you in relationship\nAnd you a hundred with your mate, so don't go actin' like no saint\n'Cause it's a two-way street, and shit, you knew what I was on\nAnd while that nigga out and gone, shit, you was loungin' in my home\nShit, I even let you meet my mama and y'all got along\nBut shit, I'll take my L, though it's not fun\nYou still got your nigga and still had your fun\nShit, I can't even look at you and think about bad words\nThat's why I called and said we couldn't end this on bad terms\nWe straight like a bad perm, we'll always be good friends\nAnd laugh about it on a sandy beach while our back burns, huh\nThis my perspective, this how I feel\nI ain't fabricate nothin', I kept it real\nI told you I love you and always will\nAnd if he ever put his hands on you, promise I'll get him killed, true\nTrue, true, true, yeah\nOn God, I love that girl, f\u2014 mhm\nI'm a sh\u2014 I'm a bad person, like, I'm in the wrong, I'm a bad person\nI had no ill intentions, though\nShit, everybody got hurt\nI got hurt, bruh\nIt's a shit situation\nAll the morals and power you have just vanish when a certain energy is nearing\nAnd those feelings got so much gravity and it's out of your control\nThat made me realize adults don't know what they doin' either\nWe're all just children\nI ain't mean to fuck nobody's shit up, man\nI thought I was bulletproof\nShe proved me wrong, man\nI felt two hundred percent with her\nIt was beautiful\nI was able to feel\nBut it was, it was bad timing\nAnd I'm mad private with this side of my life 'cause people are weirdos, and\nI just try to keep anyone I care about in the shadows\nSafe from the commentary and spotlight and thoughts\n'Cause it's just a story for the people outside of it\nBut I guess you're just another chapter in the book"}
{"text":"Bitch, fuck! (Uh, uh, fuck)\nYou have a question?\n\nHow many cars can I buy 'til I run outta drive?\nHow much drive can I have until I run outta road?\nHow much road can they pave until I run outta land?\nHow much land can it be until I run in the ocean?\nNiggas go with the motions and all the plans\nSee, I was never into the beaches and all the sands\nSee, I was in the woods with flowers, rainbows, and posies\nFallin' outta my pocket, but y'all want to know if I swam to cool down\nHow much cooler can I get until I run out of fans?\nHow many fans can I have until they turn on the AC?\nIf the AC blow up, well then I'm TNT, I'm gone\n\nI'm gone and I'm finished\nAnd I ain't seen my friends in a minute\nGuessing nothing lasts forever\nYeah, nothing lasts forever\nNothing sticks together\nSick of sitting in doubt\nPlease let me figure this out, out\nYou might also like\nShout out to the girls that I led on\nFor occasional head and always keepin' my bed warm\nAnd tryin' their hardest to keep my head on straight\nAnd keepin' me up enough 'til I had thought I was airborne\nHow many raps can I write 'til I get me a chain?\nHow many chains can I wear 'til I'm considered a slave?\nHow many slaves can it be 'til Nat Turner arise?\nHow many riots can it be until them Black lives matter?\nNiggas click-clack splatter, (Pew) pew that nigga\nLife a game of basketball, you better shoot that nigga\n'Cause if that cop got trigger, he better pull (Yeah)\n'Cause when I get pulled over, I usually play it cool (Skrt)\n'Cause I know what I'm drivin' is usually paid in full\nAnd my ego and possessions, will not let me be one (Nah)\nBecause I got a mansion, my mansion got some rooms\nThem rooms got some windows and my windows got some views (Yup)\nThem views get some stares and my backyard does too\nAnd if you walk to the bottom you'll prolly see a pool\nYou better not drown, keep them ten toes up\n'Cause if them ten toes down, that mean that you fucked up\nAnd that's what I swim in\n\nAnd if I drown and don't come back\nWho's gonna know? (Maybe then I'll know)\nAnd if I crash and don't come back\nWho's gonna know? (Maybe then I'll know)\nAnd if I fall and don't come back\nWho's gonna know? (Maybe then I'll know)\nI'm wondering if I don't come back\nMaybe then I'll know\nDon't come back\nDon't come back\nAyy, don't come back\nDon't come back\nNo, no"}
{"text":"Knock-knock, mothafucks, it's me, Mr. Clusterfuck\nWhat, when, where, how, like who gives a fuck\nGolf Wang M-O-B, mopping niggas ante up\nAin't been this fucking sick since brain cancer ate my Granny up\nRest in peace or lie in it, life ain't got no light in it\nDarker than that closet that nigga Frankie was hiding in\nOpen it, dope in it, Bobby where's my fucking pipe?\nDress my little dick as Ike, twenty says I hit your wife\nThis is life, truthfully I just want to fly some kites\nGrab Salem and Slater and go around, riding bikes\nGet some ice cream, Golf Wang Roscoe's for the night\nTo skate around and do annoying shit that older peeps despise\nNigga, fuck it though, going hard as riga mo\nGot a nigga dollars and a couple cracker kids at shows\nCracked a couple kids in the head with this cast\nHad a blast out in Europe, had a Swedish bitch licking toes\nThat's how it goes, designing clothes\nCats on everything, cats on everything\nYou think all this money will make a happy me?\nBut I'm 'bout as lonely as crackers that supermodels eat\nEverybody's sparking but me, and I keep coughing\nCan't keep calm in this spot's hot box and I'm getting nauseous\nHop in the car, ride to Saugus, and head straight to the office\nPissed off at Jasper because that's some faggot shit called \"Pink Dolphin\"\nI roll here on a mean unicorn\nGreen hat, Vans, Golf top is the team uniform\nDowning that Capri Sun, tighten my bandana up\nSomething like a lez, I'm forgetting my damn manners cause\nYou might also like\nI am the cowboy on my own trip\nAnd I am the cowboy on my own trip\nAnd I am the cowboy on my own trip\nAnd I am the cowboy\n\nWhen you're alone thoughts start coming in\nPunching in that dark lock box and they start rummaging\nShit you've got to battle with, wishing they could skedaddle\nBut it makes your shadow say none, fun and grab the gun again\nI needed to get out of the house\nSo I hit the Dead Sams, and we went biking it out\nIn a black hoodie, with an Arizona and a bag of Skittles\nJust to see what all that fucking hype is about (RIP)\nNow everytime you see a roach you think of me, ayy?\nCause everytime I see one I think what his parents would say\nIn court saying I ate him, I wasn't present that day\nI was with Whitney smoking, sitting at the dock of the bay\n\nI am the cowboy on my own trip\nAnd I am the cowboy on my own trip\nAnd I am the cowboy on my own trip\nAnd I am the cowboy\nDo you know how weird it is knowing I make a bunch of cheese\nWhile my friends can't afford little pizzas from Little Caesars\nAnd their whole goal is to roll up and smoke bowls\nSo I don't feel bad when they not eating\n(But you still treating us, you punk bitch)\nWolf Haley got more methods than Pinkman\nI'm never civil, fuck Lincoln, 'Preme out the bag it's no wrinkles\nI'm okie dokie and loopy and booboo nana and caca\nIf you think I'm fucking koo-koo, try talking to my shrink then\n\n\"Hey...\"\n\"Bitch.\"\n\"I'm right here.\"\n\"Yo, who's that..?\"\n\"That's Salem, that's my girlfriend. You stay the fuck away from her alright?\"\n\nI am the cowboy on my own trip\nAnd I am the cowboy on my own trip\nAnd I am the cowboy on my own trip\nAnd I am the cowboy"}
{"text":"Crack fucked up the world\nAnd I wonder if they realized the damage\nI mean, they come from an era\nWho made a lot of money off that shit\nAnd I wonder if it fucked with they conscience\nIt fucked with me being out there, I couldn't stand it\nI couldn't stand seeing people fucking theyselves up like that on the shit\nAnd that's where the money came from\n\nForty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)\nForty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)\nThey call me Mr. Treat Your Nose\nIf you really need some blow, I can get it for the low, nigga\nForty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)\nForty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)\nThey call me Mr. Treat Your Nose\nIf you really need some blow, I can get it for the low, nigga\nShit's getting warmer, on that corner\nGotta watch out for them 5-0 foreigners\nYour mother's a goner\nI warned you before you supersized my fries with that dollar\nYou got a daughter, shit's getting harder\nThe only thing you wanna bunk her was your freedom\nYou can't afford to get caught up but you in too deep\nAnd the seashore ain't saw ya\nYou got a mother, she don't support you\nBut you bought her a new house cause you love her\nGrowing up you barely had a roof\nNow you got a coupe and it doesn't have a roof\nI guess you're accustomed what you're used to\nSo you bought two, nigga\nThey coming for you, nigga\nNiggas be hating, I'm doing them bitches\nLike Susan and Karen be doing your pockets\nAnd running the man and he's losing his fucking mind\nAnd it's all an illusion\nWho was alludin' all of this potent?\nI am the reason your family is using and shooting up\nIt's my fault\nYou can, blame me, motherfucker\nFor killing your aunties and uncles\nThe hustle and hunger\nAll I wanted was a cheeseburger\nAnd a little chain, tucked\nDidn't realize this game fucked, up some lives\nOh, how's mine?\nMy conscience eats it up all the time but, other than that, I'm fine\nI got a little money in my pocket\nYou might also like\nForty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)\nForty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)\nThey call me Mr. Treat Your Nose\nIf you really need some blow, I can get it for the low, nigga\nForty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)\nForty-eight, forty-eight, forty-eight states I get it in (Nigga)\nThey call me Mr. Treat Your Nose\nIf you really need some blow, I can get it for the low, nigga\nNigga, we broke as fuck\nHomie got a chop shop, I stole that truck\nAnd I sold that dope, motherfuckers hope this nigga go broke\nBut like my work, I give no fucks, I'm sorry (Yeah)\nShe could have been a doctor, nigga, I'm sorry (Yeah, nigga)\nCould have been an actor and won that Oscar, said I'm sorry\nI sold that soap, and I killed black folk, I'm sorry (Yeah, nigga)\nBut I got a nice car, put my sister through school\nWhile my mama all cool, I'm sorry (Yeah, nigga)\nI'm in too deep and I can't see the shore, I'm sorry\n\nYou get addicted to the flip, we used to call it\nYou get addicted to the flip (I'm sorry)\nThe, the, the, the transaction, the hustling (I'm sorry)\nEven more than the money, it's just your job (I'm sorry)\nYou feel like it's your duty to be the man in between the man\nAnd make this happen for that person (I'm sorry)\nAnd to do this and do that\nYou become the go to guy, you know, forever\nNext thing you know you're in too deep\nWay too deep, it'll scare the shit out of you\nYou wind up with so much work, that you'd be scared to death\nIt's important for us to realize, man, we gotta get out of that, man\nYou know, dudes is buying choppers\nShoot down the people that look just like them\nDudes is buying guns to take down each other\nNobody wins, ya know what I mean?"}
{"text":"Hey Miss Parker\nWait, wait, wait, wait\nSomethin' like (Uh-oh)\nI just cut some fresh lemons, where's the sugar?\nLemon in my 'ade, lemon in my ears, call 'em boogers\nRather six feet 'fore I'm ever seen with you niggas (Hold up)\nYeah\n\nWhat it is? It's that nigga T, skin look colored in (Woo)\nRidin' in double-double R, that's that Cullinan (Yeah)\nPullin' in that four hundred grand, I just ordered this (Yeah)\nSwitzerland, Lake Geneva where I spend my summer in (True story)\nGOLF le FLEUR*, that's Gianno shoe, what I'm runnin' in\nEarlobe look like headlights on a minivan (Gangsta Grillz)\nI'm so motherfuckin' dead-ass, I need some Timberlands (Woo)\nI battle any man, Uzi Vert, don't think they understand (Yeah, yeah)\n\nUh (Skrrt, cool), double C on my feet\nDouble G on my freak (Ooh), Louis V by my briefs\nShe wan' kick it with me, she better eat it then leave (Leave, woah)\nShe try save all the plates but keep eatin' my meat\nWe can't see none of 'em grow, she keep eatin' my seeds (Woo)\nGot a E and a B on the back of the seat\nSee I'm done with the 12, got a V16 (Uh)\nSay the money comin' in, yeah, that's true\nThe more money I get, I don't wan' sex you\nCan't think about the last time that I text you\nIt's probably when sidekicks had them belt loops\nSign my John Hancock on a bitch every time I check you\nJust like a brand new Lamb', I wreck you, uh\nSo what's mine is yours (Woo, woo, woo)\nYou might also like\nRide to the dinner tapin'\nOutta time and imagine her in the exit\nLast deal more than what Google say my net is\nI got cheddar with the chef in the tinted exit (Like woah)\nYeah, uh, uh, uh, woah\n\nIt's the double P, I rock double C\nMan, I run them beats like you run in cleats\nMan, come to me, you want somethin' to see\nThis internally flawed, that's a double Vs\nWhat troubles me is you couple me\nWith these subtle fleas tryna double league\nHornet trapped in the hive of a motherfuckin' bumblebee\nThey just got the closest picture of the fuckin' sun surface, that was us\nGot the LaFerrari, park that bitch just for one purpose, catchin' dust\nMy Secret Service carry mops, you call 'em street sweepers, back you up\nTat' you up then add you up, then give you a cover like Adwoa\nIf the shit's fake, I don't respect it, it's clickbait\nAnd that's distaste like a shit shake\nWhat a difference your wrist make when it's Richard-made\nHungry eyes tend to fixate like a empty stomach for a fish plate\nShit-faced, get this straight, this is truck wheels, deck, grip tape\n\nRide to the dinner tapin'\nOutta time and imagine her in the exit (Why you even talkin' to us?)\nLast deal more than what Google say my net is (Goddamn)\nI got cheddar with the chef in the tinted exit (Like woah)\nUh, uh, uh (Bitch)"}
{"text":"Pardon me, excusez-moi (I'm sorry)\nYeah, I coulda made a better choice, I mean, what the fuck?\nI'm sorry, I'm fucking sorry\nYeah\n\nI'm sorry, I'm sorry I don't see you more\nI'm sorry that the four minutes where you see your son could feel like a chore\nSis', I'm sorry I'm your kin\nSorry we ain't close as we should've been\nSorry to my old friends\nThe stories we coulda wrote if our egos didn't take the pen\nSorry to the freaks I led on (Nah, for real, I'm sorry)\nWho thought their life was gonna change 'cause I gave 'em head on\nBut instead, I sped off, yeah, I know I'm dead wrong\nSorry to the guys I had to hide (Ooh)\nSorry to the girls I had to lie to\nWho ain't need to know if I was by the lake switchin' tides, too (Tides)\nAnyway, I don't wanna talk (Ooh)\nSorry if you gotta dig for info I don't wanna give\nSo you stalk, make up fibs, just to talk about my private life 'cause you're weird (Uh)\nMet that girl this year (But), that's none ya biz\nGive enough with my art, know your place\nMy personal space, y'all don't need to to be a part\nI'm sorry I don't wanna link and small talk over dinner\nI don't even drink, can't guilt trip me, I'm ice cold, roller rink\nNigga-nigga-nigga, read the room\nDon't assume niggas is cool\nStay in your pocket, this is pool\nBlah, blah, blah, blah 'bout trauma\nYou ain't special, everybody got problems, uh\nSorry I'm not empathetic (Nah, I'm fuckin')\nSorry you think I'm pathetic\nSorry I don't wanna bro down\nSorry I don't know your pronouns\nI don't mean no disrespect\nBut, damn, we just met, calm the fuck down\nOh, I'm out of touch and I'm a jerk?\nA bank account could never match my worth (That nigga gettin' money, he a dick now)\nSorry, Mother Earth\nPolluted air with chemicals and dirt\nThese cars ain't gonna buy and drive themselves\nWhat the hell you think I work for?\nNot to not explore and stay the same (I'm)\nSorry to the fans who say I changed, 'cause I did\nSorry you don't know me on a personal level to pinpoint what it is\nI'm sorry to my ancestors (I'm so sorry), I know I'm supposed to fight (I know)\nBut this ice shinin' brighter than a black man's plight, I'ma make it right\nIn the meantime, I'll give some advice while these blood diamonds gettin' cleaned off\nNigga, fuck the price, spend it then, then again, I can't save niggas\nI'm not Superman, but I could try\nI'm sorry I'm pretentious\nSorry that the talent, knowledge, passion isn't missin'\nSorry when I talk my shit and I could back it up with confidence, it get you niggas trippin', man\nFuck the numbers, fuck a hook\nYou put me on a stage and I'll show you the difference\nLet me see y'all hit a stage (No, y'all can't do it)\nLet me see y'all write a page (Y'all not gon' do it)\nLet me see you make a decision I made\nAnd claim that I don't know about minimum wage or Section 8\nWater in the ketchup bottle to stretch when niggas ate\nGettin' pressed by niggas hoppin' gates\nThinkin' it's normal 'cause you ain't supposed to make it past eighteen or escape the Figure 8 cycle\nAnd I promise this is like a diet, I'ma make a way and I did, did\nFeel good, work paid off, now we gon' celebrate\nBut niggas claim you arrogant when they can't relate to moments of feelin' great\nSo they aim, duck-duck-duck 'em\nShot right back, buck-buck-buck 'em\nSorry, not sorry (Buck 'em, buck 'em)\nI got two words, fuck 'em\nYou might also like\nOkay, cool\nAnd like that\nWe really mean it this time\nI guarantee another era is upon us\nSo once again, we gone"}
{"text":"I was 16 when we first laid eyes\nScrawny little fucker, yeah, I was that guy\nAnd you was down for the weekend, I was down for the greetings\nAnd you eyes the same color shit that Jasper be chiefing\nCouple freckles on ya noses, roses made you blush\nGentleman I was like I wasn't tryna fuck\nBut it was my first official date so I was stuck, like\nIt was past curfew, and we was at the Grove\nAnd it was raining, and I had to be home\nAnd then you grab my hand, talking about tryna get home safe or something\nAll I remember was your motherfucking face\n\nI play in your hair as you rub on my ears\nThen we awkwardly stare until our lips locked\nThen we awkwardly stared because our lips locked\nNow it's awkward in here because our lips locked\nFeels like I\u2019m floating in air\nCan't believe that this dare turned into a reality when our lips locked\nMan, this feels like a dream because our lips locked\nYou officially put my feelings inside a Ziploc bag\n\nYou gotta a nigga sprung, whenever I\u2019m holding your hand and\nMaking eye contact, I feel like the damn man\nCause even though I am and get round of applauses\nI'm insecure and start to think that I do not stand chance\nBut, moments, wish that I can own it or lease it or clone it\n'Cause holding your fingertips is golden\nI fucking love you, now treat my palms like a bowling ball and\nGrip and keep holding on girl\nYou might also like\nAs you rub on my ears\nThen we awkwardly stare until our lips locked\nThen we awkwardly stared because our lips locked\nNow it's awkward in here because our lips locked\nFeels like I'm floating in air\n'Can't believe that this dare turned into a reality when our lips locked\nMan, this feels like a dream because our lips locked\nYou officially put my feelings inside a Ziploc bag\nYou got a nigga-\n\nWait\nDon't think this is going to work\nThings got complicated and a couple feelings got hurt\nI haven't talked to you in a couple of days\nI got too comfortable\nAnd started to think that we was really a couple\nBut hey, (Fuck you) at least there was time spent\nBut by the time you hear this you won't know what these rhymes meant\nBut when you realize, it's awkward, your name still my password\nSo I'm always fucking reminded\nYou got a nigga sprung\n\nYou're my girlfriend... You're my girl (Whether you like it or not!)\nYou're my girl, you're my girlfriend, you're my girl, girlfriend (You know I like you a lot!)\nYou're my girl, you're my girlfriend, you're my girl (Shit, I know that you not)\nYou're my girl, you're my girlfriend, you're my girlfriend\nYou're my girl.. oooo\nYou're my, you're my Girl\nOoooo girlfriend... girlfriend..\nYou're my girlfriend you're my girl girlfriend\nYou're my girl, you're my girlfriend"}
{"text":"See, um, heavy feelings for you, yeah, yeah, it's no secret\nYou too cool for me and I ain't tryna freeze up\nLike the Johnsons, nonsense, I would speak up\nAnd realize there's more fish in the sea, I'ma re-up\nLike, bitch, I know my shit is bumping, it's eczema\nSo I won't walk around with my head down like I got beat up\nUm, you do you, I'll do me, I\u2019ll just chuck the peace up\nI ain't tryna keep up, because\n\nI don't love you anymore (Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah)\n'Cause I don't love you anymore (Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah)\n'Cause I don't love you anymore (You wasted my time and I know that these things are not hard)\n'Cause I don't love you anymore (Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah)\nBut this just might be better for us, you know?\n\n('Cause I don't love like I used to)\nWhere did time go, I need location\n('Cause you don't wanna talk about it, baby)\nThat's all that I know, I, I, I, I\nWhere did time go?\n\nBut now, movin' on, but how?\nUh, somethin' put my feelings in the lost and found\nNow I'm stuck forever, and ever, and ever\nAnd ever, and ever, and ever\nAnd ever, and ever\nForever, and ever, and ever\nI don't love you no more\nTell me where to go\nCan I have my heart back? (Heart back)\nYou might also like\nI don't love you anymore\n'Cause I don't love you anymore\n'Cause I don't love you anymore (You wasted my time and I know that these things are not hard)\n'Cause I don't love you anymore\nBut this just might be better for us, you kn-"}
{"text":"I'm just what you made, God, not many I trust\nI'ma go my own way, God, take my fate to wherever you want\nI'm out here, on my son, won't stop 'til I get me some\nClub-hoppin', tryna get me some, bad bitches wanna get me sprung\nEarly in the morning, I'm wakin', bakin', drinkin', contemplatin'\nAin't no such thing as Satan, evil is what you make it\nThank the Lord for that burning bush\nThat big body Benz I was born to push\nOn my way I'm burning kush, nigga, don't be worried 'bout us\nNeighbors knockin' on the door, asking can we turn it down\nI say, \"Ain't no music on\", she said, \"No, that weed is loud\"\nNigga, we ballin', straight swaggin', lost Hawk, but I'm maintainin'\nI've been told that I'm amazing, make sure keep that fire blazin', we livin'\n\nI (I need) need smoke (Oh, oh, oh, I need)\nI (I need) need to smoke\nWho gon' hold me down now?\nI-I wanna get high y'all (Woah)\nI-I wanna get high y'all\nNee-need it, need it to get by y'all (Woah, yeah)\nCan you get me high y'all? (Hey)\nI-I wanna get high y'all\nI-I-I wanna get high y'all\nNee-need it, need it to get by y'all\nCan you get me high y'all? (Hey)\nYou might also like\nI'm just what you made, God, just what you made, God (Nee-need it)\nI'm just what you made, God, I'm just what you made\n(Nee-nee-need it) I'm just what you made, God\nI'm just what you made, God, I'm just what you made, (Mmm)\n\nLet me tell you 'bout my month y'all\nEndless shopping, I had a ball\nI had to ball for therapy, my shrink don't think that helps at all\nWhatever, that man ain't wearing these leather pants\nI diagnose my damn self, these damn pills ain't working fam\nIn-In my spare time, punching walls, fucking up my hand\nI know that shit sound super cray, but if you had my life you'd understand\nBut, I can't fold, some poor soul got it way worse\nWe're all troubled in a world of trouble\nIt's scary to have a kid walk this Earth\nI'm what you made, God, fuck yes, I'm so odd\nThinking 'bout all my old friends who weren't my friends all along\nHm, when it rains it pours, whiskey bottles on the sinks and floors\nEvery day to find sane's a chore, amidst a dream with no exit doors\n\nI (I need) need smoke (Oh, oh, oh, I need)\nI (I need) need to smoke\nWho gon' hold me down now?\nI-I wanna get high y'all (Woah)\nI-I wanna get high y'all\nNee-need it, need it to get by y'all (Woah, yeah)\nCan you get me high y'all? (Hey)\nI-I wanna get high y'all\nI-I-I wanna get high y'all\nNee-need it, need it to get by y'all\nCan you get me high y'all? (Hey)\nI'm just what you made, God, just what you made, God (Nee-need it)\nI'm just what you made, God, I'm just what you made\n(Nee-nee-need it) I'm just what you made, God\nI'm just what you made, God, I'm just what you made (Mmm)\n\nNee-need it to get by, yeah\nWilly"}
{"text":"Mmmm, ay-oh\nHey...\nRatatat, yeah!\nNa-na-na-nah\nNa-na-na-nah\n\nCrush a bit, little bit, roll it up, take a hit\nFeelin' lit, feelin' right, 2 AM, summer night\nI don't care, hand on the wheel\nDriving drunk, I'm doing my thing\nRolling the Midwest side and out\nLiving my life, getting out dreams\nPeople told me slow my roll, I'm screaming out \"Fuck that\"\nI'ma do just what I want, looking ahead, no turning back\nIf I fall, if I die, know I lived it to the fullest\nIf I fall, if I die, know I lived and missed some bullets\n\nI'm on the pursuit of happiness, and I know\nEverything that shine ain't always gonna be gold, hey\nI'll be fine once I get it\nI'll be good\nI'm on the pursuit of happiness and I know\nEverything that shine ain't always gonna be gold, hey\nI'll be fine once I get it\nI'll be good\nYou might also like\nTell me what you know about dreamin', dreamin'?\nYou don't really know about nothin', nothin'\nTell me what you know about the night terrors every night\n5 AM, cold sweats, waking up to the sky\nTell me what you know about dreams, dreams?\nTell me what you know about night terrors? Nothing\nYou don't really care about the trials of tomorrow\nRather lay awake in the bed full of sorrow\n\nI'm on the pursuit of happiness, and I know\nEverything that shine ain't always gonna be gold, hey\nI'll be fine once I get it\nI'll be good\nI'm on the pursuit of happiness, and I know\nEverything that shine ain't always gonna be gold, hey\nI'll be fine once I get it\nI'll be good\n\nI'm on the pursuit of happiness\nI know everything that shine ain't always gold\nI'll be fine once I get it\nI'll be good\n\nI'm on the pursuit of happiness, and I know\nEverything that shine ain't always gonna be gold, hey\nI'll be fine once I get it\nI'll be good\nI'm on the pursuit of happiness, and I know\nEverything that shine ain't always gonna be gold, hey\nI'll be fine once I get it\nI'll be good\n\nPursuit of happiness, yeah\nI gon' get it, I'll be good\nOh...\nOh man, oh, ugh...\nRoom's spinning, room's spinning...\nPat, Zuli...\nOh fuck\nOh my God, why'd I drink so much and smoke so much? Oh\nOh, fuck"}
{"text":"Uh, uh\nUh, uh\nUh, uh\n\nDay and night\nI toss and turn, I keep stress in my mind, mind\nI look for peace, but see, I don't attain\nWhat I need for keeps, this silly game we play, play\nNow look at this\nMadness, the magnet keeps attracting me, me\nI try to run, but see, I'm not that fast\nI think I'm first but surely finish last, last\n'Cause day and night\nThe lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night\nHe's all alone through the day and night\nThe lonely loner seems to free his mind at night, at, at, at night\nDay and night\nThe lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night\nHe's all alone, some things will never change\nThe lonely loner seems to free his mind at night, at, at, at night\n\nHold the phone\nThe lonely stoner, Mr. Solo Dolo\nHe's on the move, can't seem to shake the shade\nWithin his dreams he sees the life he made, made\nThe pain is deep\nA silent sleeper, you won't hear a peep, peep\nThe girl he wants don't seem to want him too\nIt seems the feelings that she had are through, through\nYou might also like\n'Cause day and night\nThe lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night\nHe's all alone through the day and night\nThe lonely loner seems to free his mind at night, at, at, at night\nDay and night\nThe lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night\nHe's all alone, some things will never change (Yeah)\nThe lonely loner seems to free his mind at night, at, at, at night\n(Yeah, yeah)\n\nSlow mo'\nWhen the tempo slows up and creates that new, new\nHe seems alive though he is feeling blue\nThe sun is shining, man, he's super cool, cool\nThe lonely nights\nThey fade away, he slips into his white Nikes\nHe smokes a clip and then he's on the way\nTo free his mind in search of, to free his mind in search of\nTo free his mind in search of\nDay and night\nThe lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night\nHe's all alone through the day and night\nThe lonely loner seems to free his mind at night, at, at, at night\nDay and night\nThe lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night\nHe's all alone, some things will never change\nThe lonely loner seems to free his mind at night, at, at, at night\nAt, at, at night, night\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, Kid Cudi\nCleveland status, grind all day\nCleveland status, grind all night\nCleveland status, grind all day\nCleveland status, grind all night"}
{"text":"I got 99 problems and they all bitches\nWish I was Jigga man, carefree livin'\nBut I'm not Shawn or Martin Louis\nI'm that Cleveland nigga rollin' with them Brooklyn boys\nYou knowin' how it be when you start living large\nI control my own life, Charles was never in charge\nNo sitcom could teach Scott about the dram\nOr even explain the troubles that haunted my mom\nOn Christmas time, my mom Christmas grind\nGot me most of what I wanted, how'd you do it, Mom, huh?\nShe copped the toys I would play with in my room by myself\n\"Why he by himself?\"\nHe got two older brothers; one hood, one good\nAn independent older sister kept me fly when she could\nBut they all didn't see\nThe little bit of sadness in me\nScotty\n\nI've got some issues that nobody can see\nAnd all of these emotions are pouring out of me\nI bring them to the light for you, it's only right\nThis is the soundtrack to my life, the soundtrack to my life\n\nI'm super paranoid, like a sixth sense\nSince my father died, I ain't been right since\nAnd I tried to piece the puzzle of the universe\nSplit an eighth of shrooms just so I could see the universe\nI try and think about myself as a sacrifice\nJust to show the kids they ain't the only ones who up at night\nThe moon will illuminate my room\nAnd soon I'm consumed by my doom\nOnce upon a time, nobody gave a fuck\nIt's all said and done and my cock's been sucked\nSo now I'm in the cut, alcohol in the wound\nMy heart's an open sore that I hope heals soon\nI live in a cocoon opposite of Canc\u00fan\nWhere it is never sunny, the dark side of the moon\nSo it's more than right I try and shed some light on a man\nNot many people of this planet understand, fam\nYou might also like\nI've got some issues that nobody can see\nAnd all of these emotions are pouring out of me\nI bring 'em to the light for you, it's only right\nThis is the soundtrack to my life, the soundtrack to my life\n\nI'm this close to go and trying some coke\nAnd a happy ending would be slittin' my throat\nIgnorance to cope, man, ignorance is bliss\nIgnorance is love and I need that shit\nIf I never did shows then I'd prolly be a myth\nIf I cared about the blogs then I'd prolly be a jackass\nDon't give a shit what people talkin' 'bout, fam\nHaters shake my hand but I keep the sanitizer on deck\nHope I really get to see 30\nWanna settle down, stop being so flirty\nMost of the clean faces be the most dirty\nI just need a thoroughbred, cook when I'm hungry\nAss all chunky, brain is insanity\nOnly things that calm me down; pussy, and some Cali tree\nAnd I get both, never truly satisfied\nI am happy, that's just the saddest lie\n\nI've got some issues that nobody can see\nAnd all of these emotions are pouring out of me\nI bring 'em to the light for you, it's only right\nThis is the soundtrack to my life, the soundtrack to my life\nTo my life, to my life, to my life...\nUh\nYeah, uh-huh\nYeah, uh-huh\nYeah, uh-huh\nYeah, uh-huh\nYeah\nYeah\nYeah"}
{"text":"Yep (Aww)\nYep (Mmm-aww)\nUh-huh\nYeah, nigga\n\nYeah, it's been a minute, but I'm back in it (Uh)\nY'all ain't\u2005dealing\u2005with the same\u2005boy (No)\nGot a little trippy, then\u2005I transitioned (Yeah)\nNew attitude mixed with that pure raw (Aw)\nThe night game, your girl called\nShe like, \"Do me, baby, down to get busy, busy?\" (Yes)\nNo dice, chill, whoadie (No)\nIn life, feeling dizzy\nOh, having visions of the city and I go to war\nSee me in the day through the late night (Night)\nTell 'em it's the charm, I'm in freeze mode\nTo the gods, can't stop a hero when he in flight (Flight)\nI'm swimming in the light right\nGo and get you some, go and show 'em something, this a new thang\nYeah, I let my nuts hang (Yeah)\nKnock your top off with LeBron or Dwyane Wade (Yeah)\nAww, lift off\nCan't stunt a nigga growth, better get gone, move along (Uh)\nYou don't wanna trip, wanna get it on (Uh)\nYou don't wanna act, don't get me wrong (Nah)\nThey don't listen to the words in the song (Uh-huh)\nWe ain't gotta tell 'em, we just getting ready (Yeah)\nSee 'em fronting, we ain't kidding\nIf you want it, you can get it\nMembers of the rage, come and get you some\nNext step's out the jet from the lean back\nRunning 'round the world and we ain't packed\nHit 'em, vroom, vroom, leave 'em stuck, oh, you seen that?\nI'm chillin' where the team at\nSee a black Benz pull up with some jawns, yeah, I need that\nSo crazy, can't believe it\nNo cams, damn, no filming at all, real nigga facts (Come on)\nYears ago, rehab\nAll good, helped me figure out another plan\nIt got bad, so bad\nNah, I ain't fucking love that, man\nThen I hopped out in a new zone with my Louis bag\nTrue story, take you through the dark and the light (Yeah)\nGodson, got through new\nBack up in the world, it's the day in the life (Cud)\nHit the blunt and get it (Dude)\nRaised bars (Uh), same song, we did it (Yeah)\nHot sauce, pour it on all jams, explicit\nCarry on, smoke strong, got your mama down with it (Come on)\nAnd the game fuckin' needed something dirty raw\nTell them this the law and we weeded (Uh)\nYou might also like\nSo if it's God you believe in (Yeah)\nBob your head and just nod in agreement (Yeah)\nThey say time's undefeated\nI'ma be the first one who can beat it (Yeah)\nI had hoop dreams, now I shoot threes (What?)\nGot a lil' green (Yeah), but I don't do weed (Nope)\nPurp nor lean (Nah), that's Tunechi (Yeah)\nThat's New Orleans (What?), fuck Drew Brees (Yeah)\nSnoop D-O-double (Uh), that's two G's (Yup)\nI probably spent on paper, ooh-wee\nSince Tuesday, probably killed a few trees (Yeah)\nBut the only ones I smoke are the loose leaf\nNot high, but I'm your highness (What?)\nAnd secretly, you're on my dick (Hah)\nBut you haters are butthurt (Ow), bunch of sore hind-ends (Ow)\nI was just a poor white kid (Yeah)\nNow if rap was B-ball, I'd be Jordan-like, bitch (What?)\nYou wish you could score like this (Nah), yeah\nNot even at half court, I'd miss (Nah)\nI'm mouthwash, 'cause if I was on the floor, I'd swish (Fluoride, fluoride, swish)\nBut I cannot lie (Nah)\nI got you in my top five\nWorst rappers of all time (Hah)\nI lost my spot, y'all got Alzheim' (Uh)\nKing of rap? Nah, their words, not mine (Yeah)\nKing of swear words and not lying (Yeah)\nYou should never compare yours (Nope)\nA toll-free number (Yeah), only way you'll ever have a hot line\nFuck's going on, man? (Yeah)\nBunch of half-wits up in office (What?)\nHalf of us walking around like a zombie apocalypse\nOther half are just pissed off and (Yeah)\nDon't wanna wear a mask and they're just scoffing\nAnd that's how you end up catching the shit off 'em\nI just used the same basket as you shopping\nNow I'm in a fuckin' casket from you coughin' (Damn)\nAlways stay ahead of haters, let 'em hate\nBut never let a traitor penetrate your circle\nSeparate yourself from those who try to pull you down\nThe real ones never stray, it's sort of like Medusa (Yeah)\nThat's how you stay ahead of snakes (Woo)\nEmcees pull out gats, I don't give a fuck how strapped\nYou're gonna out-rap me? I doubt that\nPlease, bitch, I'm a house rat\nThese raps are 'bout that cheese like mousetraps\nEarthlings, I adapt to 'em\nCertain things, I don't want to do, but have to in\nOrder to just act human\nLike using a bathroom and vacuuming (Yeah)\nRapping in the booth in a triple fat goose hazmat suit\nBubble wrap and a mask too and\nI don't think that's what they meant by trap music (Nah)\nRunning through ink like I'm tattooing (Yeah)\nThis is music to be murdered by, you love\nTurn the volume up, I am fired up like a blunt\nBread is long like an Italian sub, I am drugs\nThat is probably why your opinion of me's high as fuck\nAnd it's nonstop fury (Yeah)\n'Cause I ain't holding 'em up like an armed robbery (Nah)\nAnd God's my jury, so when I die, I'm not worried (Nah)\nPrayers to George Floyd and Ahmaud Arbery (Yeah)\nHow the fuck is it that so many cops are dirty? (Huh?)\nStop, man, please, officer, I'm sorry\nBut I can't breathe when I got you on top of me\nYour goddamn knee's on my carotid artery (Fuck)\nThe adventures of Moon Man & Slim (Ah)\nYes, who want it with them?\nThe trilogy continues\nServing niggas, yes, see what's on the menu (Yeah)\nWatch 'em panic, hot damnit (Let's get it, baby)\nHope you fuckers understand it\nThe realer for you niggas\nCome and get these scriptures (Yeah)\nRap God (Uh)\nRager"}
{"text":"Inhale and I want you to exhale\nAnd I want you to follow your breath\n10... 9... 8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...\n\nI'm off on a (Yeah) adventure (We're good)\n(This here is dedicated to all of the kids like me)\nI'm on my way to heaven (Wherever you are, yep, now)\n(We're good)\n\nBirds sing, flying around\nYou never see them too long on the ground\nYou want to be one of them (Yeah)\nYou want to be one of them (Yeah)\nYou might hear the birds singing, flying around\nYou never see them too long on the ground\nYou want to be one of them (Yeah)\nYou want to be one of them (Yeah)\n\nWoah now, hey\nMr. Rager, Mr. Rager\nTell me where you're going, tell us where you're headed\n(I'm off on a adventure) Mr. Rager\nTell me some of your stories, tell us of your travels\nHey, Mr. Rager, Mr. Rager\nTell me where you're going, tell us where you're headed\n(I'm on my way to heaven) Mr. Rager\nCan we tag along? Can we take the journey?\nYou might also like\nKnocked down, round for round\nYou're feeling like you're shot down on the ground\nWhen will the fantasy end?\nWhen will the heaven begin? (Yeah)\nYou might be knocked down, round for round\nYou're feeling like you're shot down on the ground\nWhen will the fantasy end? (Yeah)\nWhen will the heaven begin? (Yeah)\n\nWoah now, hey\nMr. Rager, Mr. Rager\nTell me where you're going, tell us where you're headed\n(I'm off on a adventure) Mr. Rager\nTell us some of your stories, tell us of your travels\nHey, Mr. Rager, Mr. Rager\nTell me where you're going, tell us where you're headed\n(I'm on my way to heaven) Mr. Rager\nCan we tag along? Can we take the journey?\n\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh (Can we take the journey?)\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nHey, Mr. Rager, Mr. Rager\nTell me where you're going, tell me where you're headed\n(I'm off on a adventure) Mr. Rager\nTell me some of your stories, tell us of your travels\nMr. Rager-er-er-er-er\nTell me where you're going, tell us where you're headed\n(I'm on my way to heaven)  Mr. Rager\nCan we tag along? Can we take that journey?\n\nCan we take that journey?\n(I'm off on the adventure)\n\nHey, Mr. Rager\nHey, Mr. Rager\nHey, Mr. Rager (I'm on my way to heaven)\nHey, Mr. Rager\nHey\n\n3... 2... 1...\nScott. Scott. Scott. Scott!\nThat's good. You alright?"}
{"text":"Ah, da-da, da-da, da-da-nah\nBa-ba, ba-ba, ba-ba-da-ba-da\nLa-la, la-la, la-la, la-la, la-la, la-la-la\nLa-la, la-la, la-la, la-la-la\nPlain Pat, what up?\n\nMy heart thump, not from being nervous\nSometimes I'm thinking God made me special here on purpose\nSo all the while, 'til I'm gone make my words important\nSo if I slip away, if I die today\nThe last thing you remember won't be\nAbout some apple bottom jeans with the boots with the fur\nMaybe how I dream of being free since my birth\nCursed, but the demons I confronted would disperse\nHave you ever heard of some shit so real?\nBeyond, from the heart, from the soul, you can feel\n\nAnd if I die before I wake\nI pray the Lord, my soul, to take\nBut please don't cry\nJust know that I have made these songs for you\nAnd if I die before I wake\nI pray the Lord, my soul, to take\n'Cause I'm ready for the funeral\nUh-oh, uh-oh, uh-oh\nYou might also like\nMy mind runs, I could never catch it\nEven if I got a head start, God, please help me\nI am feeling so alone, wait\nI don't need to worry 'cause I know the world'll feel this nigga\nBlessing in disguise, but I am not hiding who I am, open your eyes, bruh\nIf I ever met you, I appreciate the love, yo\nGirls that I dated, it's okay, I am not mad, yo\nUnless you stabbed me in the heart, no love ho\nThis shit is so ill\nPlay it back from the top if you recognize real\n\nAnd if I die before I wake\nI pray the Lord, my soul, to take\nBut please don't cry\nJust know that I have made these songs for you\nAnd if I die before I wake\nI pray the Lord, my soul, to take\n'Cause I'm ready for the funeral\nAnd if I die before I wake\nI pray the Lord, my soul, to take\nBut please don't cry\nJust know that I have made these songs for you\nAnd if I die before I wake\nI pray the Lord, my soul, to take\n'Cause I'm ready for the funeral\nI'm ready for that\nI'm ready for the funeral, hey-hey\nI'm ready for the funeral, hey\nI'm ready for the funeral\nHey, I'm ready for it\nI'm ready for it\nI'm ready for the funeral"}
{"text":"She said I don't spend time like I really should\nShe said she don't know me anymore\nI think she hates me deep down, I know she does\nShe wants to erase me, hmm\nA couple days, no talking, I see my baby\nAnd this what she tells me\n\nShe said I keep on running, keep on running\nAnd nothing works, I can't get away from you, no\nI keep on ducking, keep on ducking you, nothing helps\nI can't stop missing you (Yeah)\n\nIt's like I'm her new nightmare, she ain't escaping\nIt makes me feel a bit complete (Yeah)\nKnowing someone you love don't feel the same way about ya\nMemories they soon delete (Hmm)\nA couple weeks, no talking, I see my baby\nI missed you so damn much\nHey, I wish we could start over, I told my baby\nThis what this bitch tells me\n\nShe said I keep on running, keep on running, and nothing works\nI can't get away from you, no\nI keep on ducking, keep on ducking you, nothing helps\nI can't stop missing you\nYou might also like\nYeah, 'cause I'm in the magazines, on the TV\nNo matter where you are, you might hear me (Uh)\nI'm in the magazines (Yeah), on the TV\nNo matter where you go, you might see me (Hello, haha)\n\nUh, I'm Yeezy, she say \"Hi, I'm Aria\"\nNo, you a angel, you wave \"Hi\" to Aaliyah\nI got a show in Korea, they built a new arena\nWhy don't you come and watch a nigga tear the whole scene up\nI know I seen you before, but don't know where I seen ya\nOh I remember now, you something that I dreamed of\nDon C says she cool, but don't let her fuck your cream up\nMonica Lewinsky on the dress, she'll take you to the cleaners\nSure enough, a week later, I'm in extra love\nAnd everybody know she's mine so she extra plugged\nEvery bouncer, every club show her extra love\nWe just praying the new fame don't get the best of us\nBut all good things gotta come to a en-a\nShe let it go to her head, \"No, not my Aria\"\nThe height of her shopping was writer's blocking me\nI couldn't get my shit out anyway, I hope you die, Aria\n\nShe said I keep on running, keep on running\nAnd nothing works, I can't get away from you, no\nI keep on ducking, keep on ducking you, nothing helps\nI can't stop missing you"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eMan on the Moon (The Anthem) Lyrics\n(Yawn)\nAlright, run it\nI never gave a fuck\nI never gave a fuck about what niggas thought about me\nI mean, I did, but like, fuck it, you know what I'm saying?\nYou gon' love me, man\nYou gon' love me, man\n\nThey can't comprehend\nOr even come close to understanding him\nI guess if I was boring they would love me more\nGuess if I was simple in the mind, everything would be fine\nMaybe if I was a jerk to girls\nInstead of being nice and speaking kind words\nThen maybe it would be okay to say then\nI wasn't a good guy to begin with\n\nBut my mind is all crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy\nThey got me thinking I ain't human\nLike I came in from above, above, above, above\nFeeling like an airplane in the sky\nBut then they say I'm crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy\nThey got me thinking I ain't human\nLike I came in from above, above, above, above\nFeeling like a bird sitting high, high\nYou might also like\nI be that man on the moon, I'm that man on the moon\nAnd I'mma do what I do, so do you, hey-hey\nI be posted with my blunt and a brew, my dude\nI'm that man on the moon, I'm up-up on the moon\n\nIt's like, I'mma play all my stuff for everybody\nAnd you know, and all my people, they give me feedback\nYou know, and they'll be like\n\"Yo, yo, why, why your shit sound so different?\"\nYou know what I'm saying?\n\"Why yo- why yo- why your shit- like on another level- Why's-\nWhy's it sound so different?\"\nLike that's a bad thing\nAnd I be like, \"Why not, nigga?\"\n\nClose my eyes, high in the dark\nIt's a curtain call; come one, come all\nAll I do is try to make it simple\nThe ones that make it complicated\nNever get congratulated\nI'm something different, all aspects\nDon't want a woman just to love her assets\nI'll still wife her up, even with her flat chest\nThe type to get hurt, but that's the past tense\nMy mind is all hazy, hazy, hazy, hazy\nI be thinkin' that I'm wrong\n'Cause they used to call me lame, lame, lame, lame\nMy swag was a little different\nBut then my mind is hazy, hazy, hazy, hazy\nI be thinkin' that I'm wrong\nBut they the ones who lame, lame, lame, lame\nI got the last laugh, nigga\n\nI be that man on the moon, I'm that man on the moon\nAnd I'mma do what I do, so do you, hey-hey\nI be posted with my blunt and a brew, my dude\nI'm that man on the moon, I'm up-up on the moon"}
{"text":"\nI am happy to be alive\n'Cause I know I could not be in a place that's filled with lies\nCan't stand no quiet nights, while I fill up my glass with pride\nHopeful is all I know, how to keep me from silent cries\nNothing I can say, facing all this pain in my way\n\nI fight it every day\nWhy am I this way?\nA nigga tryna maintain\nI sit and tell myself, \"Okay\"\nWe gotta find another way\nYou gotta find another way\nYou gotta find another way\n\nDon't be so down, c'mon, young homie\nYou'll be okay, you'll find real love\nAll of the stories, the hero gets lonely\nNow is the time to show what you're made of\nDon't be so down, c'mon, young homie\nYou'll be okay, you'll find real love\nAll of the stories, the hero gets lonely\nNow is the time to show what you're made of\nYou might also like\nNow is the time to show what you're made of\n\nI am happy to be alive\n'Cause I know I could not be in a place so filled with lies\nCan't stand no quiet nights, while I fill up my glass with pride\nHopeful is all I know, how to keep me from silent cries\nNothing I can say, done running from this pain in my way\n\nI'm fighting every day\nWhy am I this way?\nA nigga tryna maintain\nI sit and tell myself, \"Okay\"\nWe gotta find another way\nYou gotta find another way\nYou gotta find another way\n\nDon't be so down, c'mon, young homie\nYou'll be okay, you'll find real love\nAll of the stories, the hero gets lonely\nNow is the time to show what you're made of\nDon't be so down, c'mon, young homie\nYou'll be okay, you'll find real love\nAll of the stories, the hero gets lonely\nNow is the time to show what you're made of\nDon't be so down, c'mon, young homie\nYou'll be okay, you'll find real love\nAll of the stories, the hero gets lonely\nNow is the time to show what you're made of\nDon't be so down, c'mon, young homie\nYou'll be okay, you'll find real love\nAll of the stories, the hero gets lonely\nNow is the time to show what you're made of\nNow is the time to show what you're made of\n\nDon't be so down, c'mon, young homie\nYou'll be okay, you'll find real love\nAll of the stories, the hero gets lonely\nNow is the time to show what you're made of\nDon't be so down, c'mon, young homie\nYou'll be okay, you'll find real love\nAll of the stories, the hero gets lonely\nNow is the time to show what you're made of"}
{"text":"Ooh-oh, tap in to the frequency, light\nOoh-oh, tap in to the frequency, light\n\nBorn from dusk to dawn, I am truly alive\nThe satellite that sits in frame to illuminate this shaded place\nHe's a rose that don't belong, the music, the magic, take the lead\nCome on with it, mmm, come on\n\nMoments don't pass me up, no, no\n'Cause I seize them in stride\nTell them winnin' never gave me in\nWhen I eternally have faith\nIn the choices you made, it's all by design\nGo with it, mmmm\nCome on, don't fuck up the feng shui\nFeng shui, feng shui, feng shui, feng shui\nI see everything with new beams, I do dream\nMy eyes are glowing mood rings, you're boring\nStop dueling with the true thing, I do think\nWhen you think too much you're removing what's moving\nStuck inside a statue, look at you\nGo ahead and pogo, something gon' catch you\nA petty logo, shed all my tattoos\nI read all the bad news that says I'm too careful\nYou might also like\nOoh-oh, tap in to the frequency, light\nOoh-oh, tap in to the frequency, light\n\nThe universe never steered me wrong\nThe universe never lied\nTake me bound to the come me down\nThe fantasy in this remedy\nFree from where you don't belong in the concept of time\nNew levels, mmm, come on\n\nMoments don't pass me up, no, no\n'Cause I seize them in stride\nTell them winnin' never gave me in\nWhen I eternally have faith\nIn the choices you made, it's all by design\nGo with it, mmmm\nCome on, don't fuck up the feng shui\n\nSo twisted in emotional notions, oh yeah\nI savor your love, don't fuck up the feng shui\n\nI see every thing with new beams, I do dream\nMy eyes are glowing mood rings, you're boring\nStop dueling with the true thing, I do think\nWhen you think too much you're removing what's moving\nStuck inside a statue, look at you\nGo ahead and pogo, something gon' catch you\nA petty logo, shed all my tattoos\nI read all the bad news that says I'm too careful\nOoh-oh, tap in to the frequency, light\nOoh-oh, tap in to the frequency, light\n\nFeel I'm being tested every minute\nFeel like yesterday I was blind, I've been lost\nSeems like I've stumbled on a path, no coincidence\nTruly in my essence, I've arrived\nWho am I? Who am I? Don't remind me\nToo alive, too alive, new arriving\nYou were right, I was left in it before\nTo the light, to the light, I am Carol Anne\nParallel to paradise\nI reach out for my lifeline\nThe angels laugh in paradise\nThey say I am my own lifeline, look in you\nTo the night, to the night I'm abandoned\nTo deny, to deny, what a sandpit\nCouldn't I, couldn't I have an angel?\nTo the light, to the light, I am Carol Anne\n\nSo twisted in emotional notions, oh yeah\nI savor your love, don't fuck up the feng shui\nI see every thing with new beams, I do dream\nMy eyes are glowing mood rings, you're boring\nStop dueling with the true thing, I do think\nWhen you think too much you're removing what's moving\nStuck inside a statue, look at you\nGo ahead and pogo, something gon' catch you\nA petty logo, shed all my tattoos\nI read all the bad news that says I'm too careful\n\nOoh-oh, tap in to the frequency, light\nOoh-oh, tap in to the frequency, light\nOoh-oh, tap in to the frequency, light"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsKing Wizard Lyrics\nIt's just me and my niggas\nAnd my family\nAnd people that care about me and my fans\nFuck all these other niggas\n\nI can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\nI push the lames aside\nThey'll learn\nI can never front, know why?\nIt's not my style, no lie\nFuck all the talk\nIn time, they'll burn\nI can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\nI push the lames aside\nThey'll learn\nI can never front, know why?\nIt's not my style, no lie\nThey'll never take me alive\nKing Wizard\n\nYou love that, little bit of new, now throwback\nCleveland City snakeskin snapback\nNiggas know the uniform, keep the brim low (Hm)\nYou doubt him, don't know a damn thing 'bout him\nWhat is hip-hop without him, y'all niggas just really don't know\nGo, all day every day, hold on with all might\nI gave the world my heart, and they gave the kids insight\nYup, now fuck you I ain't left\nI'm outta my mind like all the time\nAnd a nigga ain't missed one step, yet, yup\nYou might also like\nI can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\nI push the lames aside\nThey'll learn\nI can never front, know why?\nIt's not my style, no lie\nFuck all the talk\nIn time, they'll burn\nI can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\nI push the lames aside\nThey'll learn\nI can never front, know why?\nIt's not my style, no lie\nThey'll never take me alive\nKing Wizard\n\nMy head hurt, gotta give me something that'll make me feel good\nI remember, couldn't tell a nigga nothing, man I wish you would\nNiggas ain't working, like me I had to put my bid in\nAll this rose gold I'm dipped in\nJuste un clou, while I coast through clouds\nThat's my life babe, crystal clear, no cascade\nI'm going, going, I'm on a crusade\nTo save the kids from the weak shit\nIt's finally gonna be my world\nHere all the girls can be my girls\nJust sit back count stacks, girl\nHold a nigga down all the time, girl\nWhaddup?\nI can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\nI push the lames aside\nThey'll learn\nI can never front, know why?\nIt's not my style, no lie\nFuck all the talk\nIn time, they'll burn\nI can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\nI push the lames aside\nThey'll learn\nI can never front, know why?\nIt's not my style, no lie\nThey'll never take me alive\nKing Wizard\n\nI can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\nPush the lames aside\nWhat if life's a lie?\nIn time, they'll burn\nI can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\n-aside\nThey'll learn\nIn time, they'll burn\nIn time, they'll bu-u-u-u-u-u-urn\nI-I-I can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\nI push the lames aside\nThey'll learn\nI can never front, know why?\nIt's not my style, no lie\nFuck all the talk\nIn time, they'll burn\nI can't decide\nWhat if life's a lie?\nI push the lames aside\nThey'll learn\nI can never front, know why?\nIt's not my style, no lie\nThey'll never take me alive\nKing Wizard\n\nYeah, right back on your bitch ass\nWe ain't playing games ho\nYeah, yeah, wicked\nAlright Ian"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7ePortugu\u00easTequila Shots Lyrics\nDuh-duh-duh, duh, duh, duh\nAs he falls back deeper, into a state\nThe return (Dot Da Genius, baby)\n(Daytrip took it to ten, hey)\n\nNights my mind is speedin' by, I'm holdin' on\nAskin' God to help 'em, are you hearin' me?\nGirl is tellin' me she don't know what she want\nLotta demons creepin' up, they're livin' underneath\nGotta take a minute, y'all, traveled far\nFeelin' somethin', no, I can't ignore my instincts\nBack just where I started, it's the same old damaged song\nIt's the shit I need\n\nTryna find it on the right track\nOh, wanna be just where the free at\nHm, talk to Him, He don't speak back\nHm, can't los\u0435, I'm in the third act\nLord seein' me swerv\u0435\nDo this to my loved ones, I've got some nerve\nDon't think I'm not sorry\n\nHm, hear me now, hey\nThis time I'm ready for it\nCan't stop this war in me\nCan't stop this war in me, in me, in me\nHm, hear me now, hey\nThis time I'm ready for it\nThis fight, this war in me\nThis fight, this war in me, in me, in me\nYou might also like\nHm, I been here before\nHm, hm, I been here before, hm\nCan't stop this war in me\nCan't stop this war in me, in me, in me\nAs the story goes, hey, hey\nAs the story goes, hm\nThis fight, this war in me\nThis fight, this war in me, in me, in me\n\n(Yeah) Standin' on the cliff right off Mulholland Drive\n(Yeah) Back up on my late night session remedy\n(Oh) Something 'bout the night that keep me safe and warm\nJust me, the universe, and everything I think\nLotta shit is weighin' on me, it's a storm\nNever thought I would be back here bleeding\nI'm not just some sad dude\nYou can see my life, how I grew, I want serenity\n\nTryna find it on the right track\nOh, wanna be just where the free at\nTalk to Him, He don't speak back\nHm, can't lose, I'm in the third act\nSee, it seems I'll never learn\nI won't stop 'til I crash and burn\nTell my mom I'm sorry\nHm, hear me now, hey\nThis time I'm ready for it\nCan't stop this war in me\nCan't stop this war in me, in me, in me\nHm, hear me now, hey\nThis time I'm ready for it\nThis fight, this war in me\nThis fight, this war in me, in me, in me\n\nI been here before, hey, hey\nI been here before, hm\nCan't stop this war in me\nCan't stop this war in me, in me, in me\nAnd the story goes, hey, hey\nAs the story goes, hm\nThis fight, this war in me\nThis fight, this war in me, in me, in me"}
{"text":"Mmm, easy, back up, back up, back up, back up, uh\nTurn your radio, turn your radio, off\nWatch me now, baby (Baby)\nUh-uh, uh-uh\n\nBitches in my ear, they sayin' they love me\nUh, you don't love Scott, you love the Kid Cudi\nI ain't no fuckin' slouch, show you what I'm 'bout\nMy energy is a bit too precious, too drenched in them blessings\nTransitionin' to my inner, I'm hearin' their voice\nTellin' me stay in focus, keep focusin', boy\nFeelin' like a trilli billi\nThe man everywhere I go, in any city\nI mean, damn the girls, girls, girls galore\nI mean, damn the girls, girls, girls adore\nMixin' fluorescent to the core of the accoutrement\nOff the tippy titty, settin' off my groupie radar\nSippin' Hen', dappin' hands off the roof of my Porsche\nA fresh nigga at large, a fresh nigga go hard\nAll my youngins say, \"Keep it goin'\"\nAll my youngins, they dumb and reppin', they always knowin'\n\nGot some pride in your town, I'm spottin' 'em lately\nThree-piece suit and I'm lookin' so cute\nSexy mama, send her way, you doin' it, honey\nThem hatin' fucks sideline and question what you do\nNot this, my nigga, you be here (Be here)\nNot this, my nigga, you ain't here (Ain't here)\nBig boss, I made your heart heavy (Uh-uh)\nCan't stop me, can't carry me, baby\nYou might also like\nLife ain't easy sober, we live so geeky (Yeah)\nDid just what you taught us, kept peace, no drama (Yeah)\nPhoned home to the moon, did you change your number?\nIf and when you get this message, need you back home\nBig bro, big bro, big bro (Yeah), big bro, back home\nBig bro, we need you, come home, back home\nBig bro, big bro, shit's fucked, come home (Mmm)\n\nHigh-igh-igher, high-igh, high-igh-igher\nHigh-igh-igher, high-igh, high-igh-igher\nHigh-igh-igher, high-igh, high-igh-igher\nHigh-igh-igher, high-igh, high-igh-igher (Ayy, ayy)\n\nNightmares kept a nigga from closin' his lids (Lids)\nSince a kid, I've been haunted by visions of death\nSuch a trip, now it's normal, I customed the grip\nThink they gone, nah, they just dormant, the hauntings ain't left\nNow tell me what's a young nigga to do\nWhen the zombies are comin' for you?\nLoad up them Daryl Dixons\nSurvived the rage, turn the page, relaxin', I'm whippin'\nLast week, I almost weaved right off of Mulholland\nChiefin' good like I should, alone in my thoughts\nAll the awesome places I've gone to and witnessed\nIs it worth the paranoia, betrayal, or loss?\nNah, nah, heroes can't simply have it all\nSacrifice, but see heroes don't sleep, we hear the call\nMy nieces know Uncle Scottie's so rock and roll\nMy princess Vada know rock and roll, Daddy got the glow\nGot some pride in your town, I'm spottin' 'em lately\nThree-piece suit and I'm lookin' so cute (Yeah)\nSexy mama, send her way, you doin' it, honey\nThem hatin' fucks sideline and question what you do\nNot this, my nigga, you be here (Be here)\nNot this, my nigga, you ain't here (Ain't here)\nBig boss, I made your heart heavy (Uh-uh)\nCan't stop me, can't carry me, baby\n\nLife ain't easy sober, we live so geeky (Yeah)\nDid just what you taught us, kept peace, no drama\nPhoned home to the moon, did you change your number?\nIf and when you get this message, need you back home\nBig bro, big bro, big bro (Yeah), big bro, back home\nBig bro, we need you, come home, back home\nBig bro, big bro, shit's fucked, come home (Mmm)\n\nHigh-igh-igher, high-igh, high-igh-igher\nHigh-igh-igher, high-igh, high-igh-igher\nHigh-igh-igher, high-igh, high-igh-igher\nHigh-igh-igher, high-igh, high-igh-igher"}
{"text":"God, I thought I loved you so\nGod, I thought I loved you so\n\nThey done let in the skinny jean-wearing\nFro-for-days in a old AA\nBall' so low, most fools couldn't price me\nSilently stunt with a blunt full of P.E.\nAnd I guess you know me\nBeen in NY so long, got Tri-State family\nEspecially Brooklyn\u2014shout-out to the Madis\nMy bloodline runs deep\nNights, I don\u2019t sleep\nFigure it\u2019s my pops keeping me awake\nHelp me keep my mind out the clouds for reality\nThese motherfuckers can\u2019t fathom the wizardry\nSlow-mo-brain, ass-backwards cowards\nTake a shower, your attitude stinks\nWanna know what I think\n\nOh, oh-oh, oh\nHey, my mojo so dope, bitch\nMy mojo so dope\nYep, we live it, live it\nYeah, we on it, on it\nOh, oh-oh, oh\nGive a fuck about your lifestyle\nGive a fuck about a motherfucker lifestyle, 'cause, nigga\nWe, we live this shit\nOh, oh-oh, oh\nGive a fuck about your lifestyle\nGive a fuck about a motherfucker lifestyle, 'cause, nigga, hey\nYou might also like\nI live through words, not metaphors\nSo I passed to be the rest of the freshmen\nPlayful tough talk, often the fave\n'Til I came like 'Pac art and said true things\nA whole new legion of some niggas\nAiming high, past the idea of slanging\nPraise Allah for keeping me away, man\nLotta of my niggas fell victim to the dope game\nSome things will never be the same\nWish that I could tell my brother\nSomething for some motivation to get him out that gutter\nHe\u2019s leaving behind a family and a mother\nDamn, you must understand\nWhat I speak about in song, this how I really am\nYeah, this is how I really think\nYou can see what I see, yes, I really blink\nYes, I really drink, I really do rage\nMy demons out the cage 'bout most of the day\nBefore I became the age to even rage\nI was drowning my sorrows with some O.E., nigga\n\nHey, we live this shit\nOh, oh-oh, oh\nHey, my mojo so dope, bitch\nMy mojo so dope\nYep, we live it, live it\nYeah, we on it, on it\nOh, oh-oh, oh\nGive a fuck about your lifestyle\nGive a fuck about a motherfucker lifestyle, 'cause, nigga\nWe, we live this shit\nOh, oh-oh, oh\nGive a fuck about your lifestyle\nGive a fuck about a motherfucker lifestyle, 'cause, nigga, yeah\nOh, oh (Oh, oh-oh, oh)\nGive a fuck about your lifestyle\nGive a fuck about your lifestyle, 'cause nigga\nWe live this shit, hey\nOh, oh-oh, oh\nGive a fuck about your lifestyle\nGive a fuck about your lifestyle, nigga\nYeah\nOh, oh-oh, oh\nHere we go\nOn, and on, and on, and\nOn, and on, and on, and on, and\nAnd we dream\nOh, oh-oh, oh\nOn, and on, and on, and on, and\nOn, and on, and on, and on, and\nOn, and on, and on, and on, and"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishImmortal Lyrics\nI am the smartest man alive!\n\nI tried to tell all my friends when I was a kid that I had powers\nAnd nobody wanted to believe me\nHe, he\nAll right\n\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\n\nSpent the last month feeling bad 'bout myself\nI couldn't speak anything of real hope\nAnd the day came when it hit me like lightning through my veins\nA sudden change in my groove, in my walk\nHmmm, I got my lion heart and electric flowing through my brain\nShocking waves make me feel I can float\nIt's like the city is mine and the dark is my cape\nI can't explain this sudden peace, am I woke? I sure hope\n\nI'm living my life as if I got powers\nAnd tonight I feel immortal\nI said, \"Tonight I feel immortal,\" ohh\nTonight I feel immortal, woah\nYou might also like\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\n\nBet you want to see me weak, not sort of my thing you see\nI'm too damn cool, my mojo too dope\nIt's the same old thing getting lost day and night, young and lost in the pain\nSo many times I've broke this vicious cycle\nHmmm, I got my lion heart and electric flowing through my brain\nShocking waves make me feel I can float\nSurely I'ma do what I want, ain't got no one to blame\nI can't explain this sudden peace, am I woke? I sure hope\n\nI'm living my life as if I got powers\nAnd tonight I feel immortal\nI said tonight I feel immortal, ohh\nTonight I feel immortal, yeah\n\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\n\nI'm living my life as if I got powers\nAnd tonight I feel immortal\nI said tonight I feel immortal, ohh\nTonight I feel immortal, yeah-ah\n\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm (Ohh), hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm (I)\nHm-hmmm, hm-hmmm (Ohh), hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm\nHm-hmmm (Don't-don't fuck with me), hm-hmmm (Fuck with me), hm-hmmm (Don't-don't fuck with me), hm-hmmm (Fuck with me)\nHm-hmmm (Don't fuck with me), hm-hmmm, hm-hmmm (Don't fuck with me), hm-hmmm\n\nDon't fuck with me"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easGHOST! Lyrics\nYeah, woah-woah, oh\nYeah, woah-woah, haha\nYeah\nMy name is Scott Mescudi, yeah\nYeah\n\nGotta get it through my thick head\nI was so close to being dead, yeah\nLife, live it, with nobody's help tips\nMan, I'm just walking without being led\nSee the world is so crazy and filled with such risk and man\nI just know I gotta dodge them, yeah\nThe beginning is always followed by an end\nIn the in-between time I'm not runnin' or hidin'\n\nSee things do come around\nAnd make sense eventually\nThings do come around\nBut some things trouble me\n\nThe people I've met and the places I've been\nAre all what make me the man I so proudly am\nBut I wanna know one thing\nWhen did I become a ghost?\nI'm most confused about the world I live in\nYou think that I'm lonely, well I probably am\nOne thing that still gets me\nWhen did I become a ghost?\nYeah\nYou might also like\nNa-na-na-na, na-na-na-na, woah-woah, haha, yay\nYeah, whoa, whoa-whoa, yoo\n\nTried to fight it, but soon that gave in\nWent down a road with no lights on\nCan't describe it, and you don't move like them\nYou become their worst nightmare\nYou remember the things that your parents had said and well\nRather find out the hard way\nYou should tell a friend to tell a friend to tell a friend\nI keep with my stroll, I'm not runnin' or hidin'\n\nSee things do come around\nAnd make sense eventually\nThings do come around\nBut some things still trouble me\n\nThe people I've met and the places I've been\nAre all what make me the man I so proudly am\nBut I wanna know one thing\nWhen did I become a ghost?\nI'm most confused about the world I live in\nYou think that I'm lonely, well I probably am\nOne thing that still gets me\nWhen did I become a ghost?\nYeah\nNa-na-na-na, na-na-na-na, woah-woah\nYeah, woah-woah\n\nOh-oh-oh\nI hope they understand that I really understand that\nThey don't understand\nI hope they understand that I really understand that\nThey don't understand\nI really understand that they...\nI really think I, umm...\nI hope they understand that I really understand that\nThey don't understand\nWhow\nListen to me\nWhow-whow-whow\nListen to me\nWhow-whow-whow"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eRose Golden Lyrics\nTwo, three, four\nOhhh-oh-ohh\n\nOh, since I was young, been grooving to my own drum\nAin't that many teachers show me my potential\nFelt like a failure, Mama said, \"You know better\"\nFuture in my hands, God, she had a plan\nStronger than I know, soon I'd understand\nThe power I possess, the story of the Chosen\nOh, since I was young, been grooving to my own drum\nAin't that many teachers show me my potential\nFelt like a failure, Mama said, \"You know better\"\nFuture in my hands, God, she had a plan\nStronger than I know, soon I'd understand\nThe power I possess, the story of The Chosen\n\nHmm, hey\nHmm, hmm, na-na-na-na-na-nah\nThe story of The Chosen, Rose Golden\nMmm, mmm\n\nLooking where we're at\nHow did we make it through this level all in one piece?\nHmm, oh, oh\nOh, where them friends now? I don't see 'em\nAnd if I do, I don't sense the truth in 'em\nDistancing myself while I'm focusing, fo-focusing\nDon't pretend to worry bout shit\nGo through one ear and out the other\nBetter off saying nothing, nigga\nAs I shine on and dream on, our vibes are on\nHad one trip of a dream back in 2003\nWho am I? And who will I be? Will I be free?\nI need a sign, oh I need a sign\nYou might also like\nOh, since I was young, been grooving to my own drum\nAin't that many teachers show me my potential\nFelt like a failure, Mama said, \"You know better\"\nFuture in my hands, God, she had a plan\nStronger than I know, soon I'd understand\nThe power I possess, the story of The Chosen\n\nHmm, hey\nHmm, hey, na-na-na-na-na-na\nThe story of The Chosen, Rose Golden\nMmm, mmm\n\nLook at who you are, how could it be?\nAll I ever wanted was to find some inner peace\nMmm, oh, oh, oh\nWhere them haters now? I don't hear 'em\n(They must be delusional) to think they fucking with me, though\nI put that on my soul, can't love, they jealous, so jealous, and some\nLearning day to day, humans\nSpread love to all my sisters and brothers, let's do better\nStop judging a nigga because they're different\nWe're supposed to groove to our own tune\nSo woke from that one tripped out dream back in 2003\n(Oh, who am I?)\nAnd who do I see, baby?\nThe stars will align, the stars will align\nOh, since I was young, been groovin' to my own drum\nAin't that many teachers show me my potential\nFelt like a failure, Mama said, \"You know better\"\nFuture in my hands, God, she had a plan\nStronger than I know, soon I'd understand\nThe power I possess, the story of The Chosen\nOh, since I was young, been grooving to my own drum\nAin't that many teachers show me my potential\nFelt like a failure, Mama said, \"You know better\"\nFuture in my hands, God, she had a plan\nStronger than I know, soon I'd understand\nThe power I possess, the story of The Chosen\n\nHmm, hey\nHmm, hey, na-na-na-na-na-nah\nThe story of The Chosen, Rose Golden\nHmm, na-na-na-na-na-nah\nThe story of The Chosen"}
{"text":"Yeah, I see you hatin' over there\nSee you jockin' over there, see you lookin' at my girl over here\nWhy you worried 'bout the girl over here?\nKeep your eyes over there, it is creepy when you stare\nCome on, hey, I see you hatin' over there\nI see you jockin' over there, think about your own life\nWhy you talkin' 'bout the young hippy?\nI'm just doin' my thang, if you know what I mean, get it right\nAnd they think they know\nAnd they think they know the deal, for real\nI'm just doin' my thang, if you know what I mean, get it right\nAnd they think they know\nAnd they think they know the deal, for real\nI'm just doin' my thang, if you know what I mean, yo\n\nI don't love who I am so I'm workin' on a fix\nI don't need a bitch tryna tear my mind on my grip\nIf I had one wish, it'd be to have more wishes, duh\nFuck tryna make it rhyme\nThrow them stones, with your bitch ass\nCutting me deep and even though I bleed\nI stand alone, alone I'll be\nHeart of a lion still shinin' in this sucka ass\nWorkin', workin', workin', for inner peace\nFightin' for the freedom of my soul, I can hear the speech\nYeah I mumble while I'm trippin on so many pills\nHah, they figured that they know a nigga\nYou might also like\nYeah, I see you hatin' over there\nSee you jockin' over there, see you lookin' at my girl over here\nWhy you worried 'bout the girl over here?\nKeep your eyes over there, it is creepy when you stare\nCome on, hey, I see you hatin' over there\nI see you jockin' over there, think about your own life\nWhy you talkin' 'bout the young hippy?\nI'm just doin' my thang, if you know what I mean, get it right\nAnd they think they know\nAnd they think they know the deal, for real\nI'm just doin' my thang, if you know what I mean, get it right\nAnd they think they know\nAnd they think they know the deal, for real\nI'm just doin' my thang, if you know what I mean, yo"}
{"text":"I make her say\nOh, oh-oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh\nWhen I...\nPa-pa-pa-poke her face, pa-pa-poke her face\nI make her say\nOh, oh-oh-oh, ah-ah-ah-oh-oh\nWhat up? Ah-ah\nPa-pa-pa-poke her face, pa-pa-poke her face\nMe first... Ha-ha!\n\nUgh, ugh-ugh, she wanna have whatever she like\nShe can if she bring her friend\nAnd we can have one hell of a night\nThrough the day, ayy\n\nI mean, you staring like a creeper 'cause you gotta peep her\nI mean, you prolly might be saying you ain't jockin' either\nBut, man, ol' girl got a fat ol' ass\nYeah, the type to make you tell a bitch, \"Just dance\"\nAnd fuck them other niggas 'cause she down for her bitches (Ayy)\nFuck them other niggas 'cause she down for the sticking (Ayy)\nAnd fuck them other niggas, hope she down for some licking (Ayy)\nAnd fuck them other bitches 'cause she down for the tricking, ugh\nI'm hopin' she a rider\nWhen it's said and done, do she spit it up or swallow now?\nI ain't gotta trip about them niggas who like her\n'Cause me and mami know who can really make her go\nYou might also like\nOh, oh-oh-oh (Yeah, yeah)\nOh, oh-oh-oh\nWhen I...\nPa-pa-pa-poke her face (Ugh-ugh)\nPa-pa-poke her face\nI make her say\nOh, oh-oh-oh (Yeah)\nAh-ah-ah-oh-oh\nWhen I...\nPa-pa-pa-poke her face (Ayy)\nPa-pa-poke her face\nWhat she talking 'bout, 'Ye?\n(Uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah) Yeah\n\nShe said she want whatever she like\nShe said she gon' bring her friend\nAnd we gon' have a hell of a night\nThrough the day\n\nI made her say\u2014Hold up, (Yeah?) born in '88? (Word?)\nHow old is that? (Man!) Old enough\nI got seniority with the sororities\nSo, that explain why I love college\nGetting brain in the library 'cause I love knowledge\nWhen you use your medulla oblongata\nAnd give me scoliosis until I'm comatos-es\nAnd do while I'm sleep, yeah a little osmosis\nAnd that's my commandment you ain't gotta ask Moses\nMore champagne, more toasts-es\nMore damn planes, more coasts-es\nAnd fuck a bus, the Benz is parked like Rosa, -oza\nOh, oh-oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh\nWhen I...\nPa-pa-pa-poke her face, pa-pa-poke her face\nI make her say\nOh, oh-oh-oh (Yeah)\nAh-ah-ah-oh-oh\nWhen I...\nPa-pa-pa-poke her face, pa-pa-poke her face\nI make her say\n\nShe said she want whatever she like\nBut you gotta bring your friend\nAnd we can have one hell of a night\nThrough the day\n\nShe blamed it on the ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-alcohol (Woo!)\nShe had her hair did; it was bound to fall (Woo!)\nDown, down for a\u2014damn, Cudi already said it\nHer poker Facebook, I already reddit\nBut man, her head was gooder than the music\nElectro body, known to blow fuses\nA stripper from the South, looking for a payday\nSaid, \"Bitch, you should do it for the love like Ray J\"\nBut they say, you be on that conscious tip\nGet your head right, and get up on this conscious dick\nI embody everything from the godly to the party\nIt's the way I was raised on the Southside safari, so\nOh, oh-oh-oh, oh, oh-oh-oh\nWhen I...\nPa-pa-pa-poke her face, pa-pa-poke her face\nI make her say\nOh, oh-oh-oh, ah-ah-ah-oh-oh\nWhen I...\nPa-pa-pa-poke her face, pa-pa-poke her face\n\nCan't read my, can't read my\nNo, he can't read my poker face\nShe's got me like nobody\nCan't read my, can't read my\nNo, he can't read my poker face\nShe's got me like nobody\nCan't read my, can't read my (Woo!)\nNo, he can't read my poker face (Woo!)\nShe's got me like nobody\nCan't read my, can't read my\nNo, he can't read my poker face\nShe's got me like nobody"}
{"text":"Soarin', is this allowed?\nI sure bet my daddy proud\nA little nigga with a Shaker smile\nOn top of the dreams is where I'm found\nSome figured I was Satan bound\nUntil I came back with a style I found\nThen all of a sudden they fixed their faces\n'Cause of who I know and the trail of places\nThat I've stepped\nHow many niggas wanna hate 'cause I left?\nHow could you blame me and my plan of attack?\n'Cause I'm risking my soul intact, now I'm heard all over the map\nOnly rule of thumb\nIt don't really matter just where you from\nAll that really matter is where you gon' go\nMaybe upstate for some\nBut you can\u2019t rule out these cats for gone\nSecond chances given out for some\nAll you gotta do is take advantage\nThen maybe you can get yourself a horse and carriage\nDone pimpin', you can think about marriage, until then, get it\nThen find yourself and let's begin\nI'ma tell you how in a minute\nI'ma show you how I be livin'\nFrom a long time ago, a young nigga, he was timid\nNow I'm zoned, see things so vivid\nHide my soul? Nah, homie, not even\nI'ma zone out 'til I lose feeling, remember\nI'ma be gone way past November\nEven, stay up there, up there\nFloatin', floatin', hopin'\nI can find peace somewhere\nYou might also like\nIn my mind\nIt sounds like oooooooh\nWhen I'm gone\nIt feels like oooooooh\nWhen I'm zoned, I'm feeling alright\nI'm feeling alright, I'm feeling alright\nWhen I'm zoned, I'm feeling alright\nI'm feeling alright, I forget about it all\n\nBallin', is this allowed?\nWithout feelin' like Shallow Hal\nDiamonds on the Jesus piece for style\nBack in Cleveland City we ride around\nGreetin' my niggas with dap and pound\nSo if I fall, I won't hit the ground\nThese are the things that'll make me smile\nKnowin' this blunt might burn a while\nI keep myself so lifted\nI am accustomed to new heights\nI feel perfect though they think it's worthless\nSee without my flight, man\nEverybody wanna be a critic\nI have my life and I will live it\nShut your mouth before I fuck it\nHa, my jokes, they will love it\nIf I'm seen on the scene with my slim cut jeans\nMore than likely I am faded, man\nYou are not the shit if everywhere you go\nNiggas ain't sitting, standing 'round hating, so\nMy vice is when the lights start flashin'\nI'll be zonin', all alone then\nAnd the place where my mind is goin'\nFilled with songs that no one's knowin'\nAnd the Devil in a hot pink dress\nTryna ask me for one dance\nHe think he slick\nBut my guardians protect me from his wrath\nSo, in my place no hate shall enter\nLivin' high up there, up there\nCopin', copin', floatin'\nI will find peace somewhere\nIn my mind\nIt sounds like oooooooh\nWhen I'm gone\nIt feels like oooooooh\nWhen I'm zoned, I'm feeling alright\nI'm feeling alright, I'm feeling alright\nWhen I'm zoned, I'm feeling alright\nI'm feeling alright, I forget about it all\n\n\nIn my mind\nIt sounds like oooooooh\nWhen I'm gone\nIt feels like oooooooh\nWhen I'm zoned, I'm feeling alright\nI'm feeling alright, I'm feeling alright\nWhen I'm zoned, I'm feeling alright\nI'm feeling alright, I forget about it all"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eSolo Dolo (Nightmare) Lyrics\nListen good, I don't have nobody\nBut what I might feel are the sounds of sanity\nHoping what I hear loops itself continuously\nThen I won't be afraid, no, no\n\nOh, whoa, whoa\nWhy must it feel so wrong\nWhen I try and do right? Do right\nOh, whoa, whoa\nSoaring through paradise\nWhen I'm closing my eyes\nI'm Mr. Solo Dolo\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh\n\nLook at me, you tell me just what you see\nAm I someone whom you may love, or enemy?\nAm I speaking for you and yours, or someone else?\nI need some answers, yeah, yeah\n\nOh, whoa, whoa\nWhy must it feel so wrong\nWhen I try and do right? Do right\nOh, whoa, whoa\nSoaring through paradise\nWhen I'm closing my eyes\nI'm Mr. Solo Dolo\nOh, oh, oh\nOh, oh\nYou might also like\nMy world turns, flippin' the bird\nTo the ones who figure\nMe outcast, no, not the duo\nBack in Shaker Heights where they knew who\nDos little brother was a strange one, boo-hoo\nCry me a river, hater, look who\nTraveled out an igloo\nCold-cold world wasn't fit for me at all\nLook at where I stand at, tall\nClutchin' my Kid Cudi bizzalls\nMute motherfuckers back home, quick pause\nGargle on my mayo\nLook at me, I bet I'm the one you think to fail\nFloating in my mind, no sail\nAhoy, ahoy\n\nListen good, I don't need nobody\nThis is, what you feel, are the sounds of insanity\nHoping what I hear loops itself to finish me\nNo, I won't be afraid, hey, hey\n\nOh, whoa, whoa\nWhy must it feel so wrong\nWhen I try and do right? Do right\nOh, whoa, whoa\nSoaring through paradise\nWhen I'm closing my eyes\nI'm Mr. Solo Dolo\nWhy must it feel so right\nWhen I know that it's wrong? It's wrong\nWhen will I ever learn\nFrom the words in my songs?\nI'm Mr. Solo Dolo"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsBrothers Lyrics\nIf my niggas don't fuck wit' you, I don't fuck wit' you\nThat's just a code in my hood, don't let these guns hit you\nBe a man of your word, don't ever let 'em play you\nStand up for your shit, make sure these haters pay you\nCan't nothing stop a room full of real niggas\nI got some bad rich bitches, they my real niggas\nIt's like working four jobs not to kill niggas\nMy little niggas love to ride by and spill niggas\nIf y'all fell out over some chips that ain't your real nigga\nIf y'all fell out over a chick that ain't your real nigga\nBefore I be a house nigga be a field nigga\nI gotta Port Arthur chick, call it my trill nigga\nI met Duke in '92 and we still niggas\nRockin Hilfigers before they was like chill niggas\nLiving well me and my niggas gon' eat\nBefore you hate, hit the brakes with both feet\n\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nYou might also like\nHey yo, all right, ohh\nHey yo, all right, ohh\nHey yo, all right, ohh\nHey yo, all right\n\nMax with the homies, try to teach them things\nTeach them how to make a piece of change, even keep the change\nBut they never change, bought a set of chains with another chain\nUpgraded to a better chain, that Beretta sing, I ain't playing\nShoes on the 'rari start to look like hooves\nPigs by the crib start to look like wolves\nMoney neva change me only change the situation\nThe paper I be chasin' got them sucka niggas hatin'\nStarted from the pavement, basement Satan\nCouldn't match my flames so they compare me to a mason\nFree like slaves but they based and crazy\nWe talkin' 'bout crack or we talkin' about blacks?\nSpliffing the blunt up, then they pickin' the gun up\nMotherfuckers is trippin', they fittin' to run up\nThen they gettin' the come up, yup, bitch\nAnd they do it 'til the sun up\nAnd this is for my niggas and my gang\nThrough the fortune and the fame\nOnly thing that never change is my niggas\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\n\nHey yo, all right, ohh\nHey yo, all right, ohh\nHey yo, all right, ohh\nHey yo, all right\n\nI got the niggas that I need with me\nAny issues my nigga you know to please hit me\nNo question no hesitation when it comes to holding fam down\nIf you creep me the fuck out you probably ain't around\nNow you can hate on the side lines, I'm skippin past\nYou got me fucked up, keep talkin and kiss my ass\nNo sweatin the ho shit, too in tune with the family\nI do got the ones that do know Scott\nThey give me the love that a nigga need\nIf it's a place to stay or a dime sack of weed\nWord to Dennis, ridin' thick and thin until we finished\nFocused to keep the pockets replenished, clothes on our kids\nAnd keep my niggas from goin away on a bid\nOnly wanted all the fly shit when we got big\nChasin these hoes up in they ribs at they momma crib\nBeat niggas up so 'bout it, 'bout it they go blind about it\nWe all grown, families of our own\nProviding for 'em real niggas, real morals that's the code\nPerform so long as I am my brother's keeper\nHe will provide me with a nine if I need or a street sweeper\nThe love I have for my niggas is another type\nYou gotta real nigga down with you for your whole life\nLove for my niggas\nThe brothers that I never had made my life a lot less sad, my nigga\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be\nHey yo, all right\nThis is how it's 'posed to be"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsBalmain Jeans Lyrics\nMmm, yeah\n\nHelp me take off my Balmain jeans, I'll undo yours\nYou can lick it after I'm done licking you first\nI wanna taste it, tired of waiting, are you tasty?\nYum, yum, come on baby, yum\nHope you can feel that vibe, the vibes of the night\nYour body is warm in my arms, we're under the stars\nCan I come inside your vortex?\nCan I come inside your vortex, let me baby\n\nIt's been so long, been such a hobby\nFinding someone who electrifies my body\nI need you to protect my heart\nGimme your hand, put it here, this is where you start\n\nKeep feelin' on me (Don't stop)\nKeep feelin' on me\nKeep feelin' on me (Don't stop)\nKeep feelin' on me\n\nLord help me (Lord help me), Lord help me (Lord help me)\nGot a lover under my covers, I don't want her to leave\nShe says I'm perfect, perfectly kissing on my neck\nShe is the sexiest, she said she loves my scent\nHope you can feel that vibe, the vibes in the night\nHer body is warm in my arms, we're under the stars\nI wanna taste it, tired of waiting, are you tasty?\nYum, yum, come on baby, yum\nYou might also like\nIt's been so long, been such a hobby\nFinding someone who electrifies my body\nI need you to protect my heart\nGimme your hand, put it here (Oh), this is where you start\n\nKeep feelin' on me (Don't stop)\nKeep feelin' on me (Darling, I need you, yeah)\nKeep feelin' on me (Don't stop)\nKeep feelin' on me\n\nZoom with me baby, yeah\nZoom with me baby, yeah, yeah\nOh girl, you're so sweet to me\nI love it when you're zoomin'\n(Oh girl, you're so sweet to me)\n(I love it when we're zoomin')\nOh girl, you're so sweet to me\nI love it when you're zoomin'\n(Oh girl, you're so sweet to me)\n(I love it when we're zoomin')\n\nIt's been so long, been such a hobby  (So long)\nFinding someone who electrifies my body\n(So, so, so long)\nI need you to protect my heart\nGimme your hand, put it here, this is where you start\n(Your, your)\nKeep feelin' on me (Don't stop)\nKeep feelin' on me (Come on, yeah)\nKeep feelin' on me (Don't stop)\nKeep feelin' on me (Oh-ooh-oh)\n\nHelp me take off my Balmain jeans (Ooh, ooh, yeah)\n(Help me) Help me take off my Balmain jeans\n(Thank you)\nYeah, oh\nNeed you, oh, oh"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsSolo Dolo Part II Lyrics\nI don't need, I don't need nobody\n\nPlease shut the front door and walk right in\nIn the land of the man who rock it hard for them\nSuper Solo Dolo attack, run and tell that\nIf you'd like to know, yes, I am on acid\nWho could it be? K-I-D\nSearching all day in the streets for DMT\nDon't sip it, though - it couldn't answer\nDrip, trip all day - bumpin' MGMT, homie\nWatch on who you hate on, fam, without the facts\nSad niggas back in the hood bumpin' Ratatat\nTo me it was a dream, a fiend to understand that\nYou never seen a nigga like me?\nI just tell 'em I'm an oxymoron when I open my mouth\n'Cause people talk shit before knowing what I'm about\nBut for sure these Cleveland boys is ill\nBut pretty soon your gutter bitches wildin' for real, it's such a trip\nHoes around the globe, I'm known to have a fet'\nI don't do a thing and these bitches lickin' they lips\nMe and Chip reflect on all the hate and jibber-jabber\nMmm, you almost got me, but sucker, I'm not a sucker\nBetter get on back\nYou pussy motherfuckers get the Will Smith smack\nAnd I am not a fronter, better look up the facts\nThe world know what it be: Mr. Rager, Solo Dolo, C.U.D., repeat it\nYou might also like\nCome, come now, last call, who want some?\nIt's just me, two bitches, and dirty drums\nTwo lips to kiss, 22 mother nuns\nGod blessed my tongue, I need it for life\nAwkward like Cartwright, twiddling my thumbs\nPondering my next accomplishments\nIt's condescending to say I won\nTwo lips, you kiss my ass tonight, huh?\n\nI really want it, need it\nBreak bread or break fast\nBefore I blast and break legs, ride past\nAnd they scream out \"Little Johnny is dead!\" (Oh, you dead, nigga)\nYou wish me well, I wish you Hell\nEternity, no such thing as time will tell\nInfirmary, burn like magnetic combustion\nBad credit with me, and paramedics are hustlin'\nWhat's the definition of water?\nSherm sticks, sipped a gallon of it when you caught us\nTurn quick, I don't wanna play this for my daughter\nIf my son heard it, probably look at you as his father\nI'm proud of myself in a bad way\nHalfway house, tell it to meet me halfway\nI'm passin' out, ass-whoopin'\nYour ass lookin' for Michelle Obama 'til I bang on you\nThey couldn't\nCome, come now, last call, who want some?\nIt's just me, two bitches, and dirty drums\nTwo lips to kiss, 22 mother nuns\nGod blessed my tongue, I need it for life\nAwkward like Cartwright, twiddling my thumbs\nPondering my next accomplishments\nIt's condescending to say I won\nTwo lips, you kiss my ass tonight, huh?"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eMarijuana Lyrics\nYeah, ooh, yeah\nOoh, ooh, ooh\n\nPretty green bud, all in my blunt\nOh, I need it\nWe can take off, yeah, ooh, marijuana, yeah\nPretty green bud all in my blunt\nOh, I need it\nWe can take off, yeah, ooh, I know you wanna smoke\n\nI-I-I be on it all day\nLike my nigga Big Boi said\nThat's the only thing that keep me level\nUp in my crazy head\nStoned on the run-run, no fun if not\nIt's Scotty from the email read\nMan, I swear to keep it one hundred\nAnd if I ain't have it, then I'll be dead\nMy soul's been fed tonight\nEverything that I choose, still can't forget Grey Goose\nConverse covered with mixer juice\nAnd all my niggas rolling up in the booth\nWho got me on another one?\nSomeone please roll me another one\nThey tell me all good things must end\nBut those motherfuckers ain't have this friend\nI keep\nYou might also like\nPretty green bud, all in my blunt\nOh, I need it\nWe can take off, yeah, ooh, marijuana, yeah\nPretty green bud all in my blunt\nOh, I need it\nWe can take off, yeah, ooh, I know you wanna smoke\n\nLa-la-la, yeah\nLa-la-la, yeah\nLa-la-la, yeah, marijuana\nLa-la-la, yeah\nLa-la-la, yeah\nLa-la-la, yeah\nOh, I know you wanna smoke\n\n\nPretty green bud, all in my blunt\nOh, I need it\nWe can take off, yeah, ooh, marijuana, yeah\nPretty green bud all in my blunt\nOh, I need it\nWe can take off, yeah, ooh, I know you wanna smoke\nAlways had my back, hey (La-la-la, yeah)\nAlways had my back, hey (La-la-la, yeah)\nAlways had my back, hey, marijuana (La-la-la, yeah, marijuana)\nAlways had my back, yeah (La-la-la, yeah)\nAlways had my back, hey (La-la-la, yeah)\nAlways had my back, hey, marijuana (La-la-la, yeah)\nI know you wanna smoke\n\nHmm, oh, oh, oh\nNever left me lonely\nIt's gon' be okay\nTrust me, it's gon' be okay\nOh, oh, oh, oh\nAnd... 4:2"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsUp Up & Away Lyrics\nNow when the sun come up\nI'll be there to say \"What up\" in the morning\nBrush my teeth\nFind that clip I been looking for since last night\nI feel so caught up in the bud\nI float somehow in my bedroom\nTurn around\nSee myself in the mirror, I guess I'm cool\nAnd those happy thoughts in my head\nI'm feeling like I'm Peter Pan\nMinus the tights and the fairies\nHappy to see how far I've come\nTo the same place it began\nMy dreams and imagination\nPerfectly at peace\nSo I move along a bit higher\n\nI'll be up-up and away, up-up and away\n'Cause they gon' judge me anyway, so, whatever\nI'll be up-up and away, up-up and away\n'Cause in the end, they'll judge me anyway, so, whatever\n\nUh, higher learnin'\nI see the dreams I made\nSo I'm cooler now\nI can take care of my mom and my little niece Zuri\nSo sing along, lil mama\nYou ain't gotta worry 'bout no drama, no\nI provide for friends and fam and fans\nAnd Cleveland City grinding, man\nStay afloat, the key is hope\nI'll never let a motherfucker break me, dawg\nWho gives a fuck? If a nigga don't like your steeze\nTell 'em to buzz off your N-U-T's\nWe don't care what people say\nDudes who critique your clothes are most gay\nI ain't gotta wait for no one\nIf I wanna fly, I can fly for freedom, hey\nYou might also like\nI'll be up-up and away, up-up and away\n'Cause they gon' judge me anyway, so, whatever\nI'll be up-up and away, up-up and away\n'Cause in the end, they'll judge me anyway, so, whatever\n\nWake up, wake up, wake, wake up, wake\nWake, wake up, wake up, wake, wake up, wake (Yeah)\nWake, wake up, wake up, wake, wake up, wake\n(We'll be rolling one up)\nWake, wake up, wake up, wake, wake up, wake\n(We'll be rolling one up)\nWake, wake up, wake up, wake, wake up, wake\n(We'll be rolling one up)\nWake, wake up, wake up, wake, wake up, wake\n(We'll be rolling one up)\nWake, wake up, wake up, wake, wake up, wake\n(I'll be rolling one up)\nWake, wake up, wake up, wake, wake up, wake\n(I'll be rolling up)\n\nI'll be up up and away, up up and away\n'Cause they gon' judge me anyway, so, whatever\nI'll be up up and away, up up and away\n'Cause in the end, they'll judge me anyway, so, whatever\nI'll be up up and away, up up and away\n'Cause they gon' judge me anyway, so, whatever\nI'll be up up and away, up up and away\n'Cause in the end, they'll judge me anyway, so, whatever\nWhatever\nSo, whatever\nWhatever\nSo, whatever\nThe end is never the end\nA new challenge awaits\nA test no man could be prepared for\nA new hell he must conquer and destroy\nA new level of growth he must confront himself\nThe machine and the ghost within\nThis is the journey, of the Man on the Moon"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishGirls Lyrics\nRight, alright\nRight, a-a-alright\nRight, alright\nRight, right, right\n\nI'm single in the streets 'bout to get it in (Right)\nTalking bout some drinking and some mingling (Alright, woah)\nCan't believe what I'm seeing, man, all these girls (Right), look (Right), look (Right, alright)\nHmm, they got me caught y'all (Right), I just wanna make her feel hot (Alright)\nLet me smell your sin girl (Right) damn you look (Right) so (Right)\nNo groupies (Groupies), see a blonde girl with a brunette\nSee a nigga cruising in the red benz\nThat's a one, two, double up, triple up\nSo many surprises, oh, so many colors and sizes\nLove them, hmm I want them, they need me\nI'm rolling, coasting\n\nI see pretty girls (Oh) everywhere I go\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go (So many colors and sizes)\nI see pretty girls (So many surprises) everywhere I go\nEvery (Oh), everywhere I go, every (Oh), everywhere I go (Oh, oh-oh-oh)\nI see pretty girls everywhere I go\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go (So many colors and sizes)\nI see pretty girls (So many surprises) everywhere I go\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go\nYou might also like\nGuess what?\nA nigga turnt up\nAll the windows closed for the roast up\nClub club letting out finna post up\nAll I need is somebody to fly with and smoke this tree\nDown for doing acid\nSlim up on that waist, but that ass fit (Wow)\nLet me feel your skin on mine unwind speak whats on your mind\nAnd tell me somethin that moves me\nSeen all types, different continents\nNothing more intriguing than an accent\nThat's a one, two, double up, get it up\nSo many surprises, so many colors and sizes\nLove it (Mmh) they're so dope, they're so dope\nWe're all rolling, coasting\n\nI see pretty girls everywhere I go\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go\nI see pretty girls everywhere I go\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go (Ah, no)\nI see pretty girls everywhere I go (Oh, yeah)\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go (Ah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah)\nI see pretty girls everywhere I go\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go (Shorty, shorty)\nYou live like me you get used to fun\nThere's an endless supply of the beautiful ones (The beautiful ones)\nOpen up those exotic thighs\nThe baddest little bitch half-black, half-Thai\nDon\u2019t be prejudiced, cause she\u2019s mixed\nI'd still fuck the blackest bitch\nThat's how it is if you in my world\nLight skin, white momma you a white girl\nAnd I got that fever (Fever)\nAnd a big thick you know what I wanna feed her (Yeach)\nMet a girl named Maria, its your turn, I love them se\u00f1oritas\nI like to fuck 'em, then I say fuck 'em\nLil momma can get a little something\nOG Too Short don't stop\nAll the pretty girls call me Todd\n\nI see pretty girls (Oh) everywhere I go (Everywhere)\nEvery, everywhere I go (That's how you roll it, baby), every (I go), everywhere I go (You can ball this, let me see that body!)\nI see pretty girls (Yeah, oh) everywhere I go (Like everywhere)\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go (Are my favorite pie, bitch!)\nI see pretty girls everywhere I go\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go\nI see pretty girls everywhere I go\nEvery, everywhere I go, every, everywhere I go\nThey love me\nYahm\nAh, ah, woah, woah, woh\nHey, hmm, nah, nah, nah, nah\nNah, nah, no\nBitch!"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eToo Bad I Have to Destroy You Now Lyrics\nMmmmhmmmmm, yeah, mmmhmmmhmmm\n\nPeople talk shit 'bout me\nDeep down they knowin' they ain't right\nHmm, when I walk in the room, they can't look in my eyes\nWhen I walk in the room, they can't look in my eyes\nPeople talk shit 'bout me, and they know that I know\nAnd they also knowin' they ain't right\nHmm, when I walk in the room, they can't look in my eyes\n'Cause when I walk in the room, they can't look in my eyes\n\nRejuvenated, recreated, rebooted, in a new program\nPrada calf\u2019s, black skinnies, T and hoody\nY\u2019all niggas know the brand, GQ mustachin\u2019 I\u2019m in LA\nSoaking up the sun and I\u2019m laughing, what can I say?\nI love the way the fans say they love me\nI know it\u2019s all because my God above me\nBut damn I\u2019m feeling like Sam\nExcept my daddy ain\u2019t stuck up no video game\nThings changed, for the good\nHe watched my back until the world started knowin\u2019 my name\nThis should be in the Bible\nMiddle finger up to the people who don\u2019t like you\nWho have no valid reason to say they never liked you\nWe don\u2019t give a fuck fam\nSo what?! We never liked you niggas anyway\nPardon my wizard talk, but I\u2019m elevated\nNo drank, no tree and I\u2019m levitated\nI got my own empire, I\u2019m the baby\nI ain\u2019t taking care of nobody but my daughter and my mom\nPlaces to go cause I need to build a travel log\nI travel while you jake niggas run a blog\nNow run along, I got some shit that needs posting\nWhile I\u2019m winnin\u2019 livin\u2019 life, skippin\u2019 grinnin\u2019 on em\nAll hail King Wizard in the fuckin\u2019 house\nBeen chill for a minute quiet as a mouse\nNow I got the juice, call me Bishop when you see me round\nI be showin\u2019 love, showin\u2019 love baby, dap and pound\nYou might also like\nYeah, mmmhmmmmm, yeah, mmmhmmmhmmm\n\nPeople talk shit 'bout me\nDeep down they knowin' they ain't right\nHmm, when I walk in the room, they can't look in my eyes\nWhen I walk in the room, they can't look in my eyes\nPeople talk shit 'bout me, and they know that I know\nAnd they also knowin' they ain't right\nHmm, when I walk in the room, they can't look in my eyes\n'Cause when I walk in the room, they can't look in my eyes\n\nTruth comes to the light all the time\nYou can\u2019t hide from fate, you can\u2019t hide\nTruth comes to the light all the time\nYou can\u2019t hide from fate, you can\u2019t hide\nTruth comes to the light all the time\nYou can\u2019t hide from fate, you can\u2019t hide\n\nThought you were my brother, I thought you were\nThought you were my sister, I thought you were\nThought you were my homie, I thought you were\nSo absurd\nThought you were my brother, I thought you were\nThought you were my sister, I thought you were\nThought you were my homie, I thought you were\nSo absurd\nI am a person with powers, I possess the power\nYou can\u2019t hide, see me shine"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishFrequency Lyrics\nWicked, Wick-Wick\nWicked, Wicked Awesome\n\nYeah, yeah, widen your view\nAnd tune on into the frequency\nChill on out, love is the rule\nFollow it to the frequency\n\nCouple girls, couple stories, and a couple shrooms, hmm\nCouple girls, couple stories, and a couple shrooms, hmm\nCouple clubs and I'm in the zone\nRather take the party home, to get in the groove\nWet sex passionate in a dark tomb, in a dark tomb\nIntertwine inside then hold tight never let it loose, wet it up\nCouple girls, couple stories, and a couple shrooms\nCouple girls, couple stories, and a couple shrooms\nCouple girls, couple girls make a nigga feel less alone\nI trust them, my riders\nEasing my frequency, ahh\nCuriosity is the key to my frequency\nExplore what you find, and now\n\nYeah, yeah, widen your view\nAnd tune on into the frequency\nChill on out, love is the rule\nFollow it to the frequency\nYou might also like\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, ooh, boo\n\nI'm done up 'til sun up\nI'm done up 'til sun up\nI'm real close stroking in another room\nDone up 'til sun up\nI'm done up 'til sun up\nI'm real close stroking in another room\nWet and passionate\nReal close, shed tears and the sweaty groove\nAnd I love the love\nHot sweat in the sheets never speak on cue in the psych room\nCyclone, wit, uh\nA couple trippy girls, couple stories, and a couple shrooms\nHave a couple nudes, sucking boobs\nSeeing double, seeing double in the zone\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, ooh, boo\n\nYeah, yeah, widen your view\nAnd tune on into the frequency\nChill on out, love is the rule\nFollow it to the frequency\nYeah, yeah, color outside the lines\nAnd tune on into the frequency\nChill on out, love is the rule\nFollow it to the frequency"}
{"text":"It's a revolution\nHmm, yeah, hmm, yeah\nHmm, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nAa-aaa-ay, a-aaa-ay\nAa-aaa-ay, a-aaa-ay\n\nNow, I ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby (uh)\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby (uh)\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave\n\nUh, tonight is electrical\nI done told y'all, this the cinema\nI am on my Kubrick horn\nLike a Spielberg Close Encounter form\nFeelin' awesome to be black\nAnd I'm murkin' all competition\nMakin' what I want and that's a flex\nCan't do what you want, now ain't that a bitch?\nSlow up for no one when the show come\nMagical feel in my palms\nMake \u2018em go dumb with them hums\nMhmm, mhmm, mhmm\nYou might also like\nNow, I ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby (uh)\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby (uh)\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave\n\nThe industry is so full of shit\nWelcome y'all to the enema\nNah, man, no subliminal\nCause they insecure, they know who they are\nFeelin' awesome to be black\nAnd I'm murkin' all competition\nEverything that I do is a flex\nIf you don't get me, not my issue, bitch\nSlow up for no one, the shogun\nGot the magic in my palms\nMake \u2018em go dumb with them hums\nMhmm, mhmm, mhmm\nNow, I ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave\nAa-aaa-ay, a-aaa-ay\nAa-aaa-ay, a-aaa-ay\n\nNow, I ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nI ain't ridin' no waves\nToo busy making my own waves, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave, baby\nSurfin' on my own wave\nAa-aaa-ay, a-aaa-ay\nAa-aaa-ay, a-aaa-ay\nHmm, day, hmm, ayy, lay\nDa, le, lay, da, ley, lay\nLe-lay, le-lay\nLe-lay, le-lay\nLe-lay, le-lay, le-lay, oh\nLe-lay, le-lay, le-lay, oh, ah\nLe-lay, oh, le-lay, le-lay\nOff of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up off of my wave\nBetter get up off of my wave, better get up\nDa-le-lay, de-le-lay\nDa-le-lay, de-le-lay"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsUnfuckwittable Lyrics\nYou could fly\nNobody can touch you... nobody\nYou could fly\nNobody can touch you\n\nAin't-ain't-ain't no question, ain't no conspiracy, yeah\nKee-kee-keep on searching for love, who else is incomplete?\nThere's so many good vibes just floatin' around in the world\nAnd when the ground and sky combine, oh yeah\nI'm feeling more than fine\nI'm so Rock and Rollie\n\nDon't you feel it? Feel it? Feel it?\nYou-you-you know that I'm unfuckwittable\nDon't you feel it? (Hmm, nah, no, nah, no)\n\nYou-you-you know that I'm unfuckwittable\n\nOne-one-one day I knew no one could help me in Hell\nNot-not-not many people are true, fake as the lies they tell, (Hmm, no, no, no)\nThe world is filled with good vibes, and that is what I seek\nAnd now I'm feeling more than cool, oh yeah\nI'm feeling more than cool, yeah\nThem Jokers can't hold me\nYou might also like\nDon't you feel it? Feel it? Feel it?\nYou-you-you know that I'm unfuckwittable\nDon't you feel it? (Hmm, nah, no, nah, no)\n\n(Yeah, what you know?, what you know?)\nYou-you-you know that I'm unfuckwittable\n\nDon't you feel it? Feel it? Feel it?\nYou-you-you know that I'm unfuckwittable\nDon't you feel it? (Hmm, nah, no, nah, no)\n\n(Woh, hoh, know, you know)\nYou-you-you know that I'm unfuckwittable\nHoh"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eHeart of a Lion (Kid Cudi Theme Music) Lyrics\nPlease save a kid that needs some help\nAnd I can't begin to think of anything that could help\nBut the weed is guaranteed, indeed, just what I need\nHow I feel, upon a time, so recent in time, made me sad\nWhen I recollect how it used to be\nLike David and Goliath, kinda like me\nAnd the Devil tryna rip out my soul\nTryna catch a nigga on sleep, no-no\nYou can try again and I'll be ready\nWon't let you kill me in my dream like Freddy Krueger\nNo, I'm not no loser, I'll see you in Hell\n\nAt the end of the day, day\nMy mama told me don't let no one break me, let no one break me\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah, no)\nAt the end of the day, day\nNobody, nobody ever could stop me, ever could stop me\n(Yeah, yeah, no)\nAt the end of the day, day\nYou can't regret it if you were trying, if you were trying\n(Yeah, yeah, no)\nAt the end of the day, day\nI'm walking with a heart of a lion, yeah\nYou might also like\nPlease save a kid that needs some help\nAnd I can't see ahead of me so I move in stealth\nHide and seek within a dream, I seem to glide above my horror\nThough I feel I'll never be complete inside the dark I borrow\nTo proceed and remain intact, my mental is so unstable\nAnd they talk and judge a man\nThey have no clue of what I'm capable\n'Til I show a side of me no one had thought could be within\nI told you, no I'm not a loser, I'll see you in Hell\n\nAt the end of the day, day\nMy mama told me don't let no one break me, let no one break me\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah, no)\nAt the end of the day, day\nNobody, nobody ever could stop me, ever could stop me\n(Yeah, yeah, no)\nAt the end of the day, day\nYou can't regret it if you were trying, if you were trying\n(Yeah, yeah, no)\nAt the end of the day, day\nI'm walking with a heart of a lion, yeah\n\nNo, no, no, no, no, no, no\nThe heart of a lion, the heart of a lion\nYeah, no, yeah (Yeah)\nNo, no, no, no, no, no, no\nThe heart of a lion\nYeah, no, yeah (Yeah)\nNo, no, no, no, no, no, no\nThe heart of a lion, the heart of a lion\nYeah, no, yeah (Yeah)\nNo, no, no, no, no, no, no\nYeah, no, yeah (Yeah)\nI'm just a kid who needs no help\nI've achieved a bigger thing\nNo cash or check could be more blessed\nAnd if you had ever seen the things I've seen up in my slumber\nYou'd be shook, stay awake\nNo need to run, your fate would follow\nYou should know, not for the faint at heart\nThis world understands no coward\nIt's a goal, a simple code, I stay on the grind to the 25th hour\nAnd I know the fight in me is somewhere hiding deep within\nI told you, no, I'll never let you drag me down to Hell\n\nAt the end of the day, day\nMy mama told me don't let no one break me, let no one break me\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah, no)\nAt the end of the day, day\nNobody, nobody ever could stop me, ever could stop me\n(Yeah, yeah, no)\nAt the end of the day, day\nYou can't regret it if you were trying, if you were trying\nAt the end of the day, day\n(Yeah, yeah, no)\nI'm walking with a heart of a lion, yeah\nNo, no, no, no, no, no, no\nYeah, no, yeah (Yeah)\nNo, no, no, no, no, no, no\nYeah, no, yeah (Yeah)\nNo, no, no, no, no, no, no\nYeah, no, yeah (Yeah)\nNo, no, no, no, no, no, no\nYeah, no, yeah (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah, yeah..."}
{"text":"79 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439T\u00fcrk\u00e7eThe Void Lyrics\nNa-na, hmm\nNa-na, hmm\n\nI will fall in the void, fall in the void just to avoid\nAnything that can bring me down or fuck with my flow\nFall in the void (The void)\nFall in the void (The void)\nI will fall in the void, fall in the void just to avoid\nAnything that can bring me down or fuck with my flow\nFall in the void (The void)\nFall in the void (The void)\n\nHey, oh, need to free my mind, ah, yeah\nThis a little ritual of mine as I head home\nHead up high, get some\nHello, sailin' by, nah-nah\nSay, oh, been dead and alive, don't know\nLet go, they say I'll survive\nIf you say so, please don't lie\nMy days are low, I'll give it a try, hey\nSee new things in my soul\nWhen I'm just sittin' in my room all alone\nThis is the real, it's how I roll\nTell my friends and folks that I'm on a rid\u0435, don't know when I'm comin' home\nThings might change, but I'm cool with it\nFlyin' high\u0435r than I've ever been, I see the world just as it is\nPlease hear me, no, no, no, I cannot wait (No, no)\nAs we climb, I'm soarin'\nYou might also like\nI will fall in the void, fall in the void just to avoid (Woah)\nAnything that can bring me down or fuck with my flow\nFall in the void (The void, mmm, yeah)\nFall in the void (The void, fall in the void)\nI will fall in the void, fall in the void just to avoid (Woah)\nAnything that can bring me down or fuck with my flow\nFall in the void (The void, mmm)\nFall in the void (The void, bring me, ooh)\n\nOh\n\nSee ya, never have I flown so high\nFeel a feeling takin' over, goodbye (Ooh)\nBe just what you need to be, let's go (Ooh)\nEverything is all on me, don't count me out (Yo)\nThese nights, they save him from my hellhole\nWhen it's dark and my heartbeat echoes\nYeah, that's just what I love, ooh\nHeaven ain't too far now\nShow me what I don't know (What I don't know)\nImagine these things so simple, break the code\n'Round and 'round, my mind is throwed\nPrayin' I overdose on this love, it got me flyin', I'm headed home (Hey)\nAnd I'm thinkin' I be dreamin', lights are gleamin'\nGod watchin', haters plottin', but I can't be focused on that\nHere it goes, this the part, I cannot wait\nDon't ask why\nI'm soarin'\nI will fall in the void, fall in the void just to avoid\nAnything that can bring me down or fuck with my flow\nFall in the void (The void)\nFall in the void (The void, fall in the void)\nI will fall in the void, fall in the void just to avoid (Woah)\nAnything that can bring me down or fuck with my flow\nFall in the void (The void, mmm-mmm, no, no)\nFall in the void (The void, come, baby, oh)\n\nOh, no, no\n\nOh, God, oh, God, thank You\nYou've been in my dreams, you've been in my dreams\nOh, I'm just trying to be the best man I can be, mmm-mmm\nThank you for listening\nThank you for never leaving me\nIt's gon' be okay\nIt's gon' be okay\nI promise you\nI promise you"}
{"text":"Oh, oh, oh, oh\nYeah, yeah, every bottle\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh\nWoah, woah, ah\nHmm, hmm, hmm, hmm\nAh, ah, ooh, yeah, yeah\n\nYeah, I take it, they don't know 'bout it\nYeah, I take it, I don't need nobody\nDeep in Hell in dark corners\nDeep in my dreams perceived, nah\nYeah, I take it, they don't know 'bout it\nYeah, I take it, I don't need nobody\nCan't hear me scream\nSomethin' twisted in me\n\nSay, \"I'm waitin' to die,\" I cry\nMany nights I spent gettin' fucked up, livin' a lie\nPrayin', I'm just fed up, this tequila in me\nDon't tell me to be cool, this is how cool I can be, woah\nYou can try and read my mind\nBeen pushin' it for days, I'm on a mission to climb, woah\nLosin' r\u0435ality, been sayin' I'm fine, try my hardest to sleep\nToo many issues bubblin', say I'll work through it\nHow? Think th\u0435y knowin' what the problems are\nHad me goin' crazed through the city while I burn it down\nThis is just my way, keep on prayin' for me\nLonely on my ride as I fly, arms is open wide\nDon't wanna leave without sayin' bye\nHad a rough night, finna sip some\nDon't even worry 'bout it, waitin' 'til the Devil comes\nYou might also like\nYeah, I take it, they don't know 'bout it\nYeah, I take it, I don't need nobody\nDeep in Hell in dark corners\nDeep in my dreams perceived, nah\nYeah, I take it, they don't know 'bout it\nYeah, I take it, I don't need nobody\nCan't hear me scream (Ahh!)\n\nHe's callin' me\nSo much gone while I blow off steam\nAnd the shit's the same\nOh, look at that, only you to blame (Ha)\nIt's like I'm swimmin' towards another bona fide life\nIt's like a fairy tale, wantin' more\nBut inside I'm vexed, used to question, why\nLord, he show me that I'm tested and I'm gonna fly\nI ain't slippin', no, that's not for me\nBe who you are, don't be nothin' less, please\nHear me, Lord, don't ever leave, see\nI'm a man in the night in these dark streets\nSomethin' else, how it felt\nTake a drink, I live in excess, nothin' left\nEvery minute slippin' away, this is hell\nThey were warning him, figured he'd be cool, who's the fool?\nYeah, I take it, they don't know 'bout it (Yeah, yeah)\nYeah, I take it, I don't need nobody (Yeah, yeah)\nDeep in Hell in dark corners (Yeah)\nDeep in my dreams perceived, nah (Yeah)\nYeah, I take it, they don't know 'bout it (Yeah)\nYeah, I take it, I don't need nobody (Yeah)\nCan't hear me scream (Scream)\nSomethin' twisted in me"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eAll Along Lyrics\nHey\nMa-ma-ma, ma-moon\nHey\nMa-ma-ma, ma-moon\n\nWhen the days change\nSo does my attitude\nI'm messy at home\nI eat a lot of junk food\nWhen the nights change\nSo do my nightmares too\nI dream reality\nIs my dream\n\nAll along\nAll along\nI guess I'm meant to be alone\nAll along\nAll along\nI guess I'm meant to be alone\nOut there on my own\nYeah\nYou might also like\nWhen the weeks change\nThe rumors change too\nI'm addicted to highs\nWould you like to know why?\nWhen the months change\nSo do my love point of views\nI don't want what I need\nWhat I need hates me\nWhat I need hates me\n\nI know all along\nAll along\nI know I'm meant to be alone\nIt's crazy\nBut all along\nAll along\nI knew I was meant to be alone\nOut there on my own, yeah\n\nSuppose somehow the lionhearted\nFailed to win\nWho will be the villain?\nAll the strangers voted for him\nSuppose somehow the lionhearted\nFailed to smile\nWho will be the villain?\nAll the strangers voted for him\nAll along\nAll along\nI guess I'm meant to be alone\nAll along\nAll along\nI guess I'm meant to be alone\nOut there on my own, yeah"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7e\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Another Day Lyrics\nIffy, can't decide which one I want\nAll the girls at the party, come along, it's a party we started (Yeah)\nMixin' drinks, how much? Who knows\nI pour one out for dead homies (Yeah, yeah), the dearly departed, baby (Uh)\nAin't missin' the moment, ain't no spillin' (Yeah)\nDude, I been livin', illin', tryna find it then I'm peelin'\nYou feel it? (Woah) All's good until I hit the ceilin'\nGood riddance, I figured I'd be straight, just need a minute, just a second (Yeah)\nHow it's been on overload in my zone, gone\nNothing else can fix the problem but this herb grown, grown\nYes, that there, it got m\u0435 on one (Oh)\nAin't no tweakin', I'm professional\nB\u0435tter give a nigga room, I be back, round two\nIt's the soldier in me (Yeah), let them fuckers envy (Do)\nGoin' 7th Heaven-bound, who goin' trippin with C? (Yeah)\nThe rager from the dark (Yeah)\n\nDay fades and the sun goes away (Uh)\nSame old nigga and the same old pain (Uh)\nAin't much change in me, y'all (Yeah)\nSeem like ain't nothin' change in me, y'all\nThank God I saw another day (Uh-huh)\nBut I can't go escape what I have made, nah\nAin't much change in me, y'all (Yeah)\nSeem like ain't nothin' change in me, y'all (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nDrop it (Let's go), had me at \"Hello\", we in the spot\nCan not stop it (Yeah), ragin' with familiar, lames think they got it, not (Not)\nAnd you see me twistin' on the low, there he go\nYeah, baby, there he go, yeah, really, really (Oh)\nWon't be out there lookin' crazy, hazy, ho (Hello)\nAnd it's like I surf the waves forming in my dome\nWe keep floatin', hopin', coastin'\nRagin' through the day, sexy baby, turn me on-on (Uh)\nHear me out, hear me, hear me\nCome on, ready or not, nigga comin' with it\nCome on with the team, hear me, hear me\nOh no, hit 'em up and I'm rippin', rippin', isn't he? (Yeah)\nAnd I'm comin' full-blown to the tombstone (Yeah)\nHow I'm livin', gotta push it, gotta set the tone (Yeah)\nIt ain't nothin' to me, baby, say I'm livin' wrong (Livin' wrong)\n\n(Go) Day fades and the sun goes away (Uh)\nSame old nigga and the same old pain (Uh)\nAin't much change in me, y'all (Yeah)\nSeem like ain't nothin' change in me, y'all\nThank God I saw another day (Uh-huh)\nBut I can't go escape what I have made, nah\nAin't much change in me, y'all (Yeah)\nSeem like ain't nothin' change in me, y'all (Yeah)\nHey, oh, hey, oh\nHmm, hmm\nHmm, hmm\nHmm, hmm\nHmm, hmm-mm\nTell me where you're going\nTell me where you're headed"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eTrapped in My Mind Lyrics\nYou see I'm trapped in my mind, oh I'm, goin trippy\nOh I don't think I'll ever go\nYou see the walls are so high that I, couldn't climb them\nSo I don't know which way to roll\nI feel I'm stuck in rewind, though I'm, lookin forward\nDamn, I wish I knew what went wrong\nAm I sick, am I ill? Man, my mental got me\nOh Lord, please help me pull through\nOh baby\n\nOh why, oh why, ooh\nOh why, oh\nOh why, oh why, ooh\nOh why, oh\n\nYou see the sun seems to shine, when I, am not looking\nOh, it seems to trick every time\nThings do get out of hand once awhile, inside my mental\nHey, I took one hell of a ride\nWhen I see what is so, I know, I am not lucky\nYeah I like to pat my own back\nIt's a gift and a curse, since my birth I'm in a prison\nThough I'm happy right where I'm at\nYou might also like\nYou see I'm trapped in my mind, and I, know it's crazy\nHey it's not that bad at all\nWhen you think of the world, I know it's crazy\nHey I'm not that bad at all\nI'm trapped in mind, and I, know it's crazy\nHey it's not that bad at all\nWhen you think of the world, I know it's crazy\nHey I'm not that bad at all\nOh baby\n\nOh why, oh why, ooh\nOh why, oh\nOh why, oh why, ooh\nOh why, oh\n\nYou see I'm trapped in my mind, and I, know it's crazy\nHey it's not that bad at all\nWhen you think of the world, I know it's crazy\nHey I'm not that bad at all\nI'm trapped in mind, and I, know it's crazy\nHey it's not that bad at all\nWhen you think of the world, I know it's crazy\nHey I'm not that bad at all\nOh baby\nHey I'm trapped in my mind baby\nI don't think I'll ever get out\nOhh I'm trapped in my mind baby\nI don't think I'll ever get out, yeah\nOh, I'm trapped in my mind, baby\nI don't think I'll ever get out\nI don't think I'll ever get out"}
{"text":"93 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7ePortugu\u00easShe Knows This Lyrics\nScott, let it go\nDon't give 'em the satisfaction\nWhat if I want the satisfaction?\n\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she screamin', \"She knows this\"\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nYeah, hmm\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she screamin', \"She knows this\"\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nYeah, hmm-hmm\n\nHere we go, step in (Yeah, yeah) and we gon' tear shit up (Uh)\nYeah, they got double cups, so me and my boo got two fat blunts (Yeah)\nRoll it up (Gang), ooh, talk about dude, I give two fucks (Fuck)\nBut we know (Ooh), truth, duck all the ho shit, burnin' the burnt clips (Nah)\nNow listen, wow, baby, let me set it off\nIn your itty-bitty 'kini, such a vision, oh\nYou my fix, you's a hit in forever long\nWorkin' it, your sweaty body, love to see it go, ooh-ooh\nTake a ride if you like, let's see\nDo whatever you like and we (Yeah)\nOn a mission tonight, ooh-ooh\nLive a hell of a life (Yeah)\nSomeone say they saw that man, ayy\nAnd they say, \"No, ain't no controllin' him,\" ayy\nYeah, it's a myth, up in this bitch, no takin' flicks\nClimbed out the treacherous bottomless pit\nYeah, I'm reborn and my life is the shit, heaven (Go)\nYou might also like\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she screamin', \"She knows this\"\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nYeah, hmm\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she screamin', \"She knows this\"\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nYeah, hmm-hmm\n\nYeah, gangs of women givin' lovin', easy sinnin'\nSuppose you got two hoes that go both ways, don't know my limit\nKnow what it is, fall into the void, this how I'm livin'\nCan't ask for better options, it's the captain of the ship isn't it?\nYeah, yo, this for my sanity\nSome play some days into the night\nI say you can't judge me, babe, I'm twisted in the brain, know why (Yeah)\nSee I can't be stressin' (No, no, I can't stress)\nI just need my medicine (Yeah baby, I need it)\nBaby, come and learn these lessons (Come, baby, and see)\nBeen around and around again (Boom-boom, boom-boom)\nCuttin' loose with the troops and, no, we ain't lie\nThis the move, come and tell your group get inside the groove\nWe at the trippy house, show me how you do\nLive a hell of a life\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she screamin', \"She knows this\"\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nYeah, hmm\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she screamin', \"She knows this\"\nMm-mm-mm\nYeah, and she see me, she knows this\nYeah, hmm-hmm\n\nYeah, yeah\nGettin', Gettin', Gettin'\nCrazy\nHmm, hmm, hmm-hmm"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsDat New \u201cNew\u201d Lyrics\nHead, head, HeadBanga\nHello, what it be\nTo you and yours\n\nSalutations to all, you can call me Cudi\nOr Mr. Extravagant 'cause I'm getting my money\nWay my doors are swayin', it's like a bird on wheels\nYou can come to Ohio and you can see how it feels\nAnd this the premier of that new-new here\nIt's gonna take you beyond\nWhere a jet can't Lear\nBut all you gon' hear\nIs somethin' crazy in fact\nHow I be burnin' the booth\nWe'll get you looser than Yak\nYep-yep, you got it right\nNow don't get left\nGet on your good foot\nIt's only right that you step\nAnd keep boppin' to this shit unfamiliar\nIf your main line got time then I be drillin' her\nI keep you in my realm\nI keep you in the sound\nI keep myself up high\nBecause the haze by the pound\nAnd my imagination\nYou can look all over the nation\nBut they ain't see\nYou might also like\nYou can look all over\nBut no, you'll never find\nHot shit like mine\nWoop, it blow your mind\nYou can look all over\nBut no, you'll never find\nHot shit like mine\n'Cause I provide\nThat new new\n\nSalutations my niggas\nI'm aware that I'm different\nYou can still keep it hood\nWhile you're smokin' just listen\nIt don't matter your race\nJust take a blunt to the face\nAnd we all gon' rock\nGot to keep up the pace\nAnd them girls gon' twerk\nBecause the vibe is poppin'\nAs well as the bottles\nKeep it rockin', don't stop 'em\nAt the Motel-8\nWe can park out front\nYeah the flow is unleaded\nYou sucka niggas will front\n'Cause I'm Super-Cudder-Realistic-Leaner-Alidocius\nAnd rap ferocious\nI been coaching the league\nI bobble head the public\nIf you love it, M dub it\nBlood, sweat, and tears; homie, I'm made of it\nFinish the class if you think nothing 'bout it\nTell 'em like grandpa, you don't know nothing 'bout it\nWear kicks once, then the Leaner come up out 'em\nI been sayin' it, you was playin' him\nNow you know\nYou can look all over\nBut no, you'll never find\nHot shit like mine\nWoop, it blow your mind\nYou can look all over\nBut no, you'll never find\nHot shit like mine\n'Cause I provide\nThat new new\n\nWhat it be to my ladies\nWith the bodies that kill\nWe ain't boppin' on money\nFuck with me 'cause you real\nSee you shakin' it fast\nOn some Mystical shit\nYou could slap that nigga\nIf he call you a bitch\nYeah I see you with that\nBut you should be on this\nIt's that Henney and Coca-Cola\nCome over and sit\nWon't you tell me your name\nTell me where you be at\nI know you know that them hot\nBut I don't wanna hear that\nYou see I aim for a check\nBefore I aim for sex\nNiggas aim for death\nThey tryin' to fuck with the blessed\nAin't no fuckin' with amateurs\nRun passed the novice\nSip hella lean\nTo see who talks the slowest\nAin't no stoppin' me at all\nYou'd need a sawed-off, or maybe a chainsaw\nAnd even at that\nThe crack that I brew is still new\nY'all niggas think acute\nBut Cudi is obtuse\nYou can look all over\nBut no, you'll never find\nHot shit like mine\nWoop, it blow your mind\nYou can look all over\nBut no, you'll never find\nHot shit like mine\n'Cause I provide\nThat new new"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsYoung Lady Lyrics\n\nIn my head your smile appears clear\nWish it wasn't my imagination running away with a dream\nYour eyes they tell it all called it\nHope you have a good heart and you're smart\nYou've got a good head on your shoulders\n\nThat's what turns a nigga on, strong feelings that I have\nYou'll probably never, find out ever\nI'll admire from afar, star\nKeep doing all the great things you're doing\nYou got it going on, young lady\n\nJesus Christ, girl!\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nJesus Christ, girl!\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nJesus Christ, girl!\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nJesus Christ, girl!\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nYou might also like\nHow'd you get so fuckin cool?\nFools probably try to spit at you daily\nThe price you pay cause you're hot\nHas anyone told you that you're fresh as hell\nAnd I dig the way you wear your hair too\nIt makes you look more mature\nSee I just wanna be a man and I think you can be the one to guide me\nBut who the fuck am I kidding\nMan you know they say I'm wild\nBut real people rarely come around if ever\nYou got it going on, young lady\n\nJesus Christ, girl! (Oh)\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nJesus Christ, girl! (Oh)\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nJesus Christ, girl! (Oh)\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nJesus Christ, girl! (Oh)\nYou got it goin' on young lady\n\n\nYou turn a nigga on, these feelings I have\nYou'll find out never, unless you're clever\nI'll admire you from afar, star\nKeep doing all the great things you're doing\nYou got it going on, young lady\nJesus Christ, girl! (Oh)\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nJesus Christ, girl! (Oh)\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nJesus Christ, girl! (Oh)\nYou got it goin' on young lady\nJesus Christ, girl! (Oh)\nYou got it goin' on young lady"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsRed Eye Lyrics\nHey!\n\nLove, hate, play this game of give and take\nGo, stay, we all make mistakes\nI'll say, what a wonderful escape\nI embrace\nHey, hey, hey\n\nThings get crazy and I feel I'm losing my mind\nAnd I don't know what to do\nI'm going insane and I really don't know why\nThere's only one thing to do\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night on a red eye, red eye)\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night a red eye, red eye)\nThings get crazy and I feel I'm losing my mind\nAnd I don't know what to do\nI'm going insane and I really don't know why\nThere's only one thing to do\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night on a red eye, red eye)\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night a red eye, red eye)\nYou might also like\nI can't understand, I don't understand it\nThe visions in my head\nI just can't make sense of it\nI can't understand, I don't understand it\nThe visions in my head\nI just can't make sense of it\nCause I can never run\nI can never run, I can never run\nThere's no use for it, baby\nI can never run\nI can never run, I can never run\nI\u2019m so used to you, baby\nI can never run, I can never run\nThere\u2019s no use for it, baby\nI can never run\nI can never run, I can never run\nI\u2019m so used to you, baby\n\nThings get crazy and I feel I'm losing my mind\nAnd I don't know what to do\nI'm going insane and I really don't know why\nThere's only one thing to do\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night on a red eye, red eye) (Oh)\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night a red eye, red eye) (Oh)\nThings get crazy and I feel I'm losing my mind\nAnd I don't know what to do\nI'm going insane and I really don't know why\nThere's only one thing to do\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night on a red eye, red eye) (Oh)\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night a red eye, red eye) (Oh)\nOoo-oh! Ooo-oh!\nThings get crazy and I feel I'm losing my mind\nBaby, oh, oh, oh, oh\nOoo-oh! Ooo-oh-oh!\nThings get crazy and I feel I'm losing my mind\nBaby, oh-oh-oh! (Hey!)\n\nThings get crazy and I feel I'm losing my mind\nAnd I don't know what to do\nI'm going insane and I really don't know why\nThere's only one thing to do\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night on a red eye, red eye) (Oh, ooo-oh!)\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night a red eye, red eye) (Oh, ooo-oh!)\nThings get crazy and I feel I'm losing my mind\nAnd I don't know what to do\nI'm going insane and I really don't know why\nThere's only one thing to do\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night on a red eye, red eye) (Oh, ooo-oh!)\nI'm floating through the night on a red eye, red eye\n(Through the night a red eye, red eye) (Oh, ooo-oh!)"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsKitchen Lyrics\nHmm, you wanna find somebody you trust and lay low\nBut it seems they all on the same mission\nYou wanna find somebody you trust and lay low\nBut can't stand the heat of my love, then stay out the kitchen\nYou wanna find somebody you trust and lay low\nBut it seems they all on the same mission\nYou wanna find somebody you trust and lay low\nBut can't stand the heat of my love, then stay out the kitchen\n\nHmm, hmm, mi amour\nHmm, yeah, hmm, mi amour, hmm\n\nYou got me, got me\nYou, you got me, got me\nPunch-Drunk Love annoyed\nHmm, you got me, got me\nHmm, you got me, got me\nPunch-Drunk Love annoyed\n\nHmm, baby here we are, I made a wish on a shootin' star\nHmm, I ain't even mad at it, we made it this far\nHmm, baby here we are, I made a wish on a shootin' star\nHmm, I ain't even mad at it, we journeyed so far\nHmm, baby here we are, I made a wish on a shootin' star\nHmm, it would be so tragic if, we abandoned this bond, no\nMhmm, baby, we've journeyed too far, no U-turns my sweetheart\nYou might also like\nHmm, hmm, mi amour\nHmm, yeah, hmm, mi amour, hmm\n\nYou got me, got me\nYou, you got me, got me\nPunch-Drunk Love annoyed\nHmm, you got me, got me\nHmm, you got me, got me\nPunch-Drunk Love annoyed\n\nYou wanna find somebody you trust and lay low\nBut it seems they all on the same mission\nYou wanna find somebody you trust and lay low\nBut can't stand the heat of my love, then stay out the kitchen\nYou wanna find somebody you trust and lay low\nBut it seems they all on the same mission\nYou wanna find somebody you trust and lay low\nBut can't stand the heat of my love, then stay out the kitchen\n\nHmm, hmm, mi amour\nHmm, yeah, hmm, mi amour, hmm\nYou got me, got me\nYou, you got me, got me\nPunch-Drunk Love annoyed\nHmm, you got me, got me\nHmm, you got me, got me\nPunch-Drunk Love annoyed"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEnter Galactic (Love Connection Part I) Lyrics\nOkay\nYou say you never done this before\nAnd that's cool and all\nBut I want you to try this with me\nThat's cool\nDon't worry\n\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\n\nI once used to dream of peace until I found you\nOnce upon a time baby\nI once used to dream so sweet until I had a taste of you\nOnce upon a time baby\nReachin' out to outer space, dancin' to awesome sounds\nThis all new to you\nI'm reachin' out to hold you close so I don't slip away\nExplore a new approach, a whole new free I'd say\nYou might also like\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\n\nI know it's easy to imagine\nBut it's easier to just do\nSee, if you can't do what you imagine\nThen what is imagination to you?\nJust a waste of space in your brain\nTo take the place of hate or things all the same\nTell me your secrets, the things that make you tick\nI like when you talk, because your voice is angelesque\nAy, I want to kiss you on your space below your navel at\nThe place that you keep neat, so moist, like a towelette\nThis will mark the day our minds and souls will connect\nLet's not forget the sex, my heart you can collect, now, now\nMy heart you can collect, now, now\nMy heart you can collect, now, now\nHave just one more cap, babe, babe, babe\nHave just one more stem, babe\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\n\nPop it, ready, go\nLet it, take, take, take, take over\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nGet ready, let, let, it take you over\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nTake it, just let it, take, take, you over\nGet ready, let's go, let's go, hey\n\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\nGet ready, pop it, let's go\nIntergalactic you and me\nIntergalactic you and me\nSoon after falling into a deeper psychedelic state\nTo escape the prison of our reality\nOur hero becomes trapped in his own peaceful place\nWhich immediately becomes his sanctuary\nA place filled with his wildest dreams\nThis is his new home"}
{"text":"99 ContributorsSad People Lyrics\nMm-mm, yeah\nMm-mm\n\nIn the dead of the night, I have these dreams\nWhat'll happen to me? Will I burn out?\nHave I been wrong? What does it mean?\nAll these things, can't understand why\nSay something's wrong with me, I know\nBy myself alone driving, I go\nFull moon as it glows, I search for truth\nTryna be brand new, yeah, I will try\nNo, I won't do but through these screams\nFighting and bleed, blood in my eye\nAnd I'll be (Another broken soul)\nGod save me (Yeah)\n\nYeah, baby, see I'm back in my zone\nJust what I need, mama (Yeah)\nNigga been in hell, the same ol'\nOn a mission and I'm gonna fly high (High)\nThis for the sad p\u0435ople who keep the blunt burning and we\nOff on a journ\u0435y, you learn me\nYou might also like\nClose call, life on the edge\nAhh, when the time comes, I'll find peace\nStill in search of, nights, I'm sittin' wishin'\nI can find love in me\nLettin' go, ooh, this ain't livin'\nI swim in pain\nNever drown, keep my head up above the waves (Get it, get it)\nTired of runnin', I won't run from fate\nLate night, ooh, this is when I come alive, when the dreams made\nTake me, ooh, just don't leave, babe\nCome on, woah (Don't say goodnight)\nScars on my heart, woah (Ahh, ahh, ahh, yeah)\n\nYeah, baby, see I'm back in my zone\nJust what I need, mama (Yeah)\nNigga been in hell, the same ol'\nOn a mission and I'm gonna fly high (High)\nThis for the sad people who keep the blunt burning and we\nOff on a journey, you learn me"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsMANIAC Lyrics\n(\u2014the black hole blacker)\nPaint the black hole blacker (Yeah)\nPaint the black hole blacker (I swear to tell the truth)\nPaint the black hole blacker (The whole truth)\nPaint the black hole blacker (And nothing but)\nPaint the black hole blacker (Yes)\nPaint the black hole blacker (Hey)\n\nI am the maniac, I am the ghoul (The ghoul)\nI'm in the shadows in the corner of my room (My room)\nThis my new hideaway, this is my tomb (Tomb)\nThis is my coffin, this is my place for unruliness, no worries\nI love the darkness, yeah, I'd like to marry it\nIt is my cloak, it is my shield, it is my cape (Cape)\nI love the dark, maybe we can make it darker (Darker)\nGive me a marker\n\nI am a maniac\nI am a maniac\nI am a maniac\n(\u2014the black hole blacker)\n\nI am the maniac, I am the fool\nI found the monster in me when I lost my cool (Yeah)\nIt lives inside of me, eating what's in its way\nI put black spray paint on my windows during the day\nI want to spend time with it, I think I'm losing it\nOr I found it and I'm using it\nI wear my shades at night so I can look in the abyss\nI see something in nothingness if you can picture this\nPut black holes in my jar lid, I climb the wall\nI'm too high now, I'll die from the fall\nBefore the water's to our knees, we can't climb when the trees\nWash away, you and I are the disease\nYou might also like\nI am a maniac\nI am a maniac\nI am a maniac\n\n(I am the maniac)\nI am a maniac\nI am a maniac\n(I am the maniac)\nI am a maniac\n(\u2014the black hole blacker)"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsSept. 16 Lyrics\nHere I am, oh\nAll night, all night, takin' me, oh\nLay awake in bed and I'm alone\n(Remembering)\nRunnin' through my brain and I'm searchin' for you, oh no\n(I'm remembering)\nMissin' someone in my life, see, I'm in trouble\nAnd every time I close my eyes, I see her face, see I'm in trouble\nNo, I can't forget her at all, haunting me\nAnd I'm wishin' you were mine, all for me\n\nLife goes by\nSearch for your love wherever it be\nLife goes by\nI need your love all over me\nLife goes by\nSearch for your love wherever it be\nLife goes by\nOh, I need your love all over me\n\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, oh, I need your love all over me\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, oh, oh\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, oh, I need your love all over me\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, ooh, mmm\nYou might also like\nYou're a star, I worship you\nDidn't you know? How couldn't you?\nAs she laughs, sun's shinin' through\nYou're my drug, my dose of truth\nAnywhere, all you\nAs you lay beside me\nJust us two, who knew\nYou'd be my everything?\n(Here I am, oh, here I am, oh)\nAll night, all night, takin' me, oh\n(Girl, you're takin' me, oh, girl, you're takin'\u2014)\n\nLife goes by\nSearch for your love wherever it be\nLife goes by\nI need your love all over me\nLife goes by\nSearch for your love wherever it be\nLife goes by\nOh, I need your love all over me\n\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, oh, I need your love all over me\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, oh, oh\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, oh, I need your love all over me\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, ooh, mmm\nOoh, ooh\nOoh, ooh\nOoh, ooh\nOoh, ooh\nNa-na-na, na\nNa-na-na"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsDon\u2019t Play This Song Lyrics\nHey, let's have some fun this time\n\nWanna know what it sound like when I'm not on drugs?\nPlease, please don't play this song\nR-r-r-r-right, r-right, r-right, right, right\nTrying to get my mind, my mind, my mind, right, right\nPeople think they really being helpful\nBy telling me please be careful, yeah right\nR-r-right, r-right, right, right\nPlease, please don't play this song\nYeah, haha\n\nPain, hurt, sadness, and loneliness\nBalled all that shit right up\nTossed it away to the bottomless pit\nThe part of my mind that slips\nAnd the part of my mind so sick\nI don't even like to take the trip unless I'm sloppy drunk\nI pray for my mom, how a teach had a son\nThat never gave a fuck about a scantron?\nAll I wanted was to be a human being\nAnd show all the world some new colors and scenes\nImagine all types of beautiful scenery\nI remember when I first had trees\nSmoked out a Black and Mild, so dumb of me\nNow, I'm grape Cigarillo man\nAny young black kid, guaranteed fan\nHold it down, humble pie on the humble\nAnd I treat normal girls like models\nReckless and young, and my, my mom's calling\nThink I should hit decline\nI'm numb faced while I'm thinking 'bout suicide\nYou might also like\nWanna know what it sound like when I'm not on drugs?\nPlease, please don't play this song (Please don't play this song)\nR-r-r-r-right, r-right, r-right, right, right (Right)\nTrying to get my mind, my mind, my mind, right, right\nPeople think they really being helpful\nBy telling me please be careful, yeah right\nR-r-right, r-right, right, right (Hey, whoa)\nPlease, please don't play this song (Yeah, hey)\n\nBlack Robin Hood, riding high just like we should\nYou know the saying, ain't no delaying\nGotta gets the getting while the getting's good\nYeah, demented, my brain was forced to transform\nWise up, I'm checking the gate\nOn humble tales and minimum wage\nThe blogs tell it, \"Cudi's lame\nWearing a kilt? He must be gay\"\nLet's keep it trill, fuck being discreet\nBut some girls tweet how they miss my meat\nYeah, Cudders; HBO, that Vitamin Water\nThat's money to blow 'cause it's money for blow\nDon't take no shit, you can blame my ma\nI'm in the maze, I'm in a daze, I'm losing it\nI'm locking in my rocketship\nI'll be a blip on your radar, bitch\nFeels like things can be covered\nUntil the day I'm above myself, hovered\nWanna know what it sound like when I'm not on drugs?\nPlease, please don't play this song\nR-r-r-r-right, r-right, r-right, right, right (\u2014ight)\nTrying to get my mind, my mind, my mind, right, right\nPeople think they really being helpful\nBy telling me please be careful, yeah right (Me)\nR-r-right, r-right, r-right, right, right (They thinking 'bout me)\nPlease, please don't play this song, aha\n\nMmm (Ooh-ooh)\nYeah (Ooh)\nYeah (Ooh)\nMmm (I say ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ah)\nMmm (Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ah)\nMmm"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsMad Solar Lyrics\nI guess I'm loony, I guess I'm on one\nGuess I'm just a star of my movie\nThey say I'm the chosen, and so it goes\nI'm supposed to live and grow old and die alone\nTalking to myself in the mirror\nTake one to know one\nCan we talk, just loony to loony?\nHow strange the notion\nYou don't really know no one\nAnd what if I told you\nYou no longer know me\nYou better keep going and keep it rolling now\nAin't no thing, you don't really need me\nThe pressure is growing\nHard times they mold you\nInto someone way colder\nLet the world see how you win\nNo matter how you seem to them\nFuck 'em\nFuck 'em\nFuck 'em\nFuck 'em\n\nAnd people think I'm mad (Or on one)\nThen won't you tell them I'm mad, solar\nAll the things that bother me\nAin't no other way I can be\nAnd people think I'm mad (Or on one)\nThen won't you tell them I'm mad, solar\nM.A.D. S.O.L.A.R\nAnd people think I'm mad (Or on one)\nThen won't you tell them I'm mad, solar\nAll the things that bother me\nAin't no other way I can be\nOh, and people think I'm mad (Or on one)\nThen won't you tell them I'm mad, solar\nM.A.D. S.O.L.A.R\nYou might also like\nI guess I'm loony, I guess I'm on one\nGuess I got to finish my movie\nSee my heart has been swollen, it's healing slow\nHope I don't live to grow old, no one at home\nStaring at myself in the mirror, take one to know one\nWant to find out 'bout the real me?\nCertain moments reveal you\nEspecially friends who were never good friends\nBut want to act like they know me\nYou better keep going and keep on strolling\nIt's so crazy how you think you can play me\nShow them pussies you're growing\nHard times, they mold you\nTo the haters, I told you\nLet the world see how you win\nNo matter how you seem to them\nFuck 'em\nFuck 'em\nFuck 'em\nFuck 'em\n\nAnd people think I'm mad (Or on one)\nThen won't you tell them I'm mad, solar\nAll the things that bother me\nAin't no other way I can be\nAnd people think I'm mad (Or on one)\nThen won't you tell them I'm mad, solar\nM.A.D. S.O.L.A.R\nAnd people think I'm mad (Or on one)\nThen won't you tell them I'm mad, solar\nAll the things that bother me\nAin't no other way I can be\nAnd people think I'm mad (Or on one)\nThen won't you tell them I'm mad, solar\nM.A.D. S.O.L.A.R"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsCONFUSED! Lyrics\nHmm, oh\n\nI might go losing it and drive off of a cliff\nFall in the void\nAnd if I blow my brains out all over the scene\nThat's madness curing sadness (Hm-hm)\nThese walls ain't talking back, might as well finally paint them black\nI'm out of ideas\nThe ceiling is all I have, downward from here\nI'm ripping apart\n\nWho am I? Who are we?\nWho am I? Who are we?\nAll I want is to feel complete\nWho am I? Who are we?\n\nConfused, truth is what I choose\nHeal I never do\nAsking, \"Who are you?\"\nI don't have one clue\nSeems I hate him, too\nSeems my color's blue\nWho?\nYou might also like\nI always end up back in a cycle of shame\nLooking in the mirror is hard (Hmm)\nSome days, I hurt myself to distract me from distraction\nThat's madness fixing sadness (Hmm-mm)\nGo on adventures to find that the answers aren't plain\nBut there's comfort in tears (Hmm-mm-mm)\nDecoding my sacred heart, flying from here\nNo more falling apart, ah\n\nWho am I? Who are we?\nWho am I? Who are we?\nAll I want is to feel complete (Complete)\nWho am I? Who are we?\n\nI hate the drugs, but I love the numb (Hmm-hmh)\nI hate the gun, but I want the sun (Hmh-hmh)\nI hate the drugs, but I love the numb (Hmh-hmh)\nI hate the gun, but I want the sun\n\nConfused\nConfused, truth is what I choose (Truth is what I choose)\nHeal I never do (Heal, I never do)\nAsking, \"Who are you?\" (Asking, \"Who are you?\")\nI don't have one clue (I don't have one clue)\nSeems I hate him, too (Seems I hate him, too)\nSeems my color's blue (Seems my color's blue), ooh, woah, woah\nWho?\nI hate the drugs, but I love the numb (Hmm-hmh)\nI hate the gun, but I want the sun (Hmh-hmh)\nI hate the drugs, but I love the numb (Hmh-hmh)\nI hate the gun, but I want the sun\n\nOh-oh-eh, oh-eh-oeh\nOh-eh-eh, oh-eh-oeh\nOh-oh-eh, oh-eh-oeh\nOh-oh-eh, oh-eh-oeh\nOh-oh-eh, oh-eh-oeh\nOh-oh-eh, oh-eh-oeh"}
{"text":"\nGo, go\nGo, go, go, go\nGo, shawty, it's your birthday\nWe gon' party like it's your birthday\nWe gon' sip Bacard\u00ed like it's your birthday\nAnd you know we don't give a fuck it's not your birthday\n\nYou can find me in the club, bottle full of bub'\nLook, mami, I got the X if you into takin' drugs\nI'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love\nSo come give me a hug if you into gettin' rubbed\nYou can find me in the club, bottle full of bub'\nLook, mami, I got the X if you into takin' drugs\nI'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love\nSo come give me a hug if you into gettin' rubbed\n\nWhen I pull up out front, you see the Benz on dubs (Uh-huh)\nWhen I roll twenty deep, it's twenty nines in the club (Yeah)\nNiggas heard I fuck with Dre, now they wanna show me love\nWhen you sell like Eminem, then the hoes, they wanna fuck (Woo)\nLook homie, ain't nothin' changed, hoes down, G's up\nI see Xzibit in the cut, hey, nigga, roll that weed up (Roll that)\nIf you watch how I move, you'll mistake me for a player or pimp\nBeen hit with a few shells, but I don't walk with a limp (I'm aight)\nIn the hood in L.A., they sayin', \"50, you hot\" (Uh-huh)\nThey like me, I want 'em to love me like they love Pac\nBut holla in New York, the niggas'll tell you I'm loco (Yeah)\nAnd the plan is to put the rap game in a chokehold (Uh-huh)\nI'm fully focused, man, my money on my mind\nGot a mil' out the deal and I'm still on the grind (Woo)\nNow shawty said she feelin' my style, she feelin' my flow (Uh-huh)\nHer girlfriend with her, they bi and they ready to go (Okay)\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nYou can find me in the club, bottle full of bub'\nLook, mami, I got the X if you into takin' drugs\nI'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love\nSo come give me a hug if you into gettin' rubbed\nYou can find me in the club, bottle full of bub'\nLook, mami, I got the X if you into takin' drugs\nI'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love\nSo come give me a hug if you into gettin' rubbed (Rubbed)\n\nMy flow, my show brought me the dough\nThat bought me all my fancy things\nMy crib, my cars, my clothes, my jewels\nLook, nigga, I done came up and I ain't changed (What? What? Yeah)\n\nAnd you should love it way more than you hate it\nNigga, you mad? I thought that you'd be happy I made it (Woo)\nI'm that cat by the bar toastin' to the good life\nYou that faggot-ass nigga tryna pull me back, right?\nWhen my joint get to bumpin' in the club, it's on\nI wink my eye at your bitch, if she smiles, she gone\nIf the roof on fire, let the motherfucker burn\nIf you talkin' about money, homie, I ain't concerned\nI'ma tell you what Banks told me, \"Cuz, go 'head, switch the style up\nIf niggas hate, then let 'em hate, and watch the money pile up\"\nOr we can go upside your head with a bottle of bub'\nThey know where we fuckin' be\nYou can find me in the club, bottle full of bub'\nLook, mami, I got the X if you into takin' drugs\nI'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love\nSo come give me a hug if you into gettin' rubbed\nYou can find me in the club, bottle full of bub'\nLook, mami, I got the X if you into takin' drugs\nI'm into havin' sex, I ain't into makin' love\nSo come give me a hug if you into gettin' rubbed (Hahahaha)\n\nDon't try to act like you don't know where we be neither, nigga\nWe in the club all the time, nigga, so pop, pop off, nigga\nG-Unit"}
{"text":"New York City\nYou are now rockin'\nWith 50 Cent\nYou gotta love it\n\nI just wanna chill and twist the lye\nCatch stunts in my 7-45\nYou drive me crazy, shorty, I\nNeed to see you and feel you next to me\nI provide everything you need, and I\nLike your smile, I don't want to see you cry\nGot some questions that I got to ask\nAnd I hope you can come up with the answers, babe\n\nGirl, it's easy to love me now\nWould you love me if I was down and out?\nWould you still have love for me?\nGirl, it's easy to love me now\nWould you love me if I was down and out?\nWould you still have love for me?\n\nIf I fell off tomorrow, would you still love me?\nIf I didn't smell so good, would you still hug me?\nIf I got locked up and sentenced to a quarter century\nCould I count on you to be there to support me mentally?\nIf I went back to a hooptie from a Benz\nWould you poof and disappear like some of my friends?\nIf I was hit and I was hurt, would you be by my side?\nIf it was time to put in work, would you be down to ride?\nI get out and peel a nigga cap, chill and drive\nI'm askin' questions to find out how you feel inside\nIf I ain't rap 'cause I flip burgers at Burger King\nWould you be ashamed to tell your friends you're feelin' me?\nIn the bed, if I used my tongue, would you like that?\nIf I wrote you a love letter, would you write back?\nNow, we could have a little drink, you know, a nightcap\nAnd we could go do what you like, I know you like that (Like that)\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nGirl, it's easy to love me now\nWould you love me if I was down and out?\nWould you still have love for me?\nGirl, it's easy to love me now\nWould you love me if I was down and out?\nWould you still have love for me?\n\nNow would you leave me if your father found out I was thuggin'?\nDo you believe me when I tell you, you the one I'm lovin'?\nAre you mad \u2018cause I'm askin' you twenty-one questions?\nAre you my soulmate? \u2018Cause if so, girl, you a blessing\nDo you trust me enough to tell me your dreams?\nI'm starin' at you, tryna figure how you got in them jeans\nIf I was down, would you say things to make me smile?\nI'll treat you how you want to be treated, just teach me how\nIf I was with some other chick and someone happened to see\nAnd when you asked me about it I said it wasn't me\nWould you believe me, or up and leave me?\nHow deep is our bond if that's all it takes for you to be gone?\nWe only humans, girl, we make mistakes\nTo make it up, I'll do whatever it take\nI love you like a fat kid love cake\nYou know my style, I say anything to make you smile\nGirl, it's easy to love me now\nWould you love me if I was down and out?\nWould you still have love for me?\nGirl, it's easy to love me now\nWould you love me if I was down and out?\nWould you still have love for me?\n\nCould you love me in a Bentley?\nCould you love me on a bus?\nI'll ask twenty-one questions and they all about us\nCould you love me in a Bentley?\nCould you love me on a bus?\nI'll ask twenty-one questions and they all about us"}
{"text":"Damn, you gotta go get somethin' to eat, man\nI'm hungrier than a motherfucker, man\nAyo, man\nDamn, what's takin' homie so long, son?\n50, calm down, man, he coming\nAh! (Oh, what the fuck?)\nAh, son, pull off, pull off!\n\nMany men wish death upon me\nBlood in my eye, dawg, and I can't see\nI'm tryin' to be what I'm destined to be\nAnd niggas tryin' to take my life away (C'mon)\nI put a hole in a nigga for fuckin' with me\nMy back on the wall, now you gon' see\nBetter watch how you talk when you talk about me\n'Cause I'll come and take your life away\n\nMany men\nMany, many, many, many men\nWish death 'pon me\nLord, I don't cry no more\nDon't look to the sky no more\nHave mercy on me\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nNow man, these pussy niggas puttin' money on my head\nGo on and get your refund, motherfucker, I ain't dead\nI'm the diamond in the dirt that ain't been found\nI'm the underground king and I ain't been crowned\nWhen I rhyme, somethin' special happened every time\nI'm the greatest, somethin' like Ali in his prime\nI walk the block with the bundles, I've been knocked on the humble\nSwing the ox when I rumble, show your ass what my gun do\nGot a temper, nigga, go 'head, lose your head\nTurn your back on me, get clapped and lose your legs\nI walk around, gun on my waist, chip on my shoulder\n'Til I bust a clip in your face, pussy, this beef ain't over\n\nMany men\nMany, many, many, many men\nWish death 'pon me\nLord, I don't cry no more\nDon't look to the sky no more\nHave mercy on me\nHave mercy on my soul\nSomewhere my heart turned cold\nHave mercy on many men\nMany, many, many, many men\nWish death 'pon me\nSunny days wouldn't be special if it wasn't for rain\nJoy wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't for pain\nDeath gotta be easy, 'cause life is hard\nIt'll leave you physically, mentally, and emotionally scarred\nThis is for my niggas on the block twistin' trees in cigars\nFor the niggas on lock doin' life behind bars\nI don't say \"only God can judge me,\" 'cause I see things clear\nCrooked-ass crackers will give my black-ass a hundred years\nI'm like Paulie in Goodfellas, you can call me the Don\nLike Malcolm by any means with my gun in my palm\nSlim switched sides on me, let niggas ride on me\nI thought we was cool, why you want me to die, homie? (Homie)\n\nMany men\nMany, many, many, many men\nWish death 'pon me\nLord, I don't cry no more\nDon't look to the sky no more\nHave mercy on me\nHave mercy on my soul\nSomewhere my heart turned cold\nHave mercy on many men\nMany, many, many, many men\nWish death 'pon me\nEvery night I talk to God, but he don't say nothin' back\nI know he protectin' me, but I still stay with my gat\nIn my nightmares, niggas keep pullin' TECs on me\nPsychic says some bitch done put a hex on me\nThe feds didn't know much when Pac got shot\nI got a kite from the pens that told me Tut got knocked\nI ain't gon' spell it out for you motherfuckers all the time\nAre you illiterate, nigga? You can't read between the lines?\nIn the Bible, it says what goes around, comes around\nHommo shot me, three weeks later he got shot down\nNow it's clear that I'm here for a real reason\n'Cause he got hit like I got hit, but he ain't fuckin' breathin'\n\nMany men\nMany, many, many, many men\nWish death 'pon me\nLord, I don't cry no more\nDon't look to the sky no more\nHave mercy on me\nHave mercy on my soul\nSomewhere my heart turned cold\nHave mercy on many men\nMany, many, many, many men\nWish death 'pon me"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsP.I.M.P. Lyrics\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar out of me\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar out of me\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P (Now, shawty)\n\nNow, shawty, she in the club, she dancin' for dollars\nShe got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada\nThat BCBG, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana\nShe feed them foolish fantasies, they pay her 'cause they want her\nI spit a little G, man, and my game got her\nAn hour later, have that ass up in the Ramada\nThem trick niggas in her ear sayin' they think about her\nI got the bitch by the bar, tryna get a drink up out her\nShe like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk\nShe from the country, think she like me 'cause I'm from New York\nI ain't that nigga tryna holler 'cause I want some head\nI'm that nigga tryna holler 'cause I want some bread\nI could care less how she perform when she in the bed\nBitch, hit that track, catch a date, and come and pay the kid\nLook, baby, this is simple, you can't see\nYou fuckin' with me, you fuckin' with a P-I-M-P\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI don't know what you heard about me (Woo)\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar out of me\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar out of me\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\n\nI'm 'bout my money, you see, girl, you can holler at me\nIf you fuckin' with me, I'm a P-I-M-P\nNot what you see on TV, no Cadillac, no greasy\nHead full of hair, bitch, I'm a P-I-M-P\nCome get money with me if you curious to see\nHow it feels to be with a P-I-M-P\nRoll in the Benz with me, you could watch some TV\nFrom the backseat of my V, I'm a P-I-M-P\n\nGirl, we could pop some champagne and we could have a ball\nWe could toast to the good life, girl, we could have it all\nWe could really splurge, girl, and tear up the mall\nIf ever you needed someone, I'm the one you should call\nI'll be there to pick you up if ever you should fall\nIf you got problems, I can solve 'em, they big or they small\nThat other nigga you be with ain't 'bout shit\nI'm your friend, your father, and confidant, bitch\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar out of me\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar out of me\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P (Now, shawty)\n\nI told you fools before, I stay with the tools\nI keep a Benz, some rims, and some jewels\nI holler at a ho 'til I got a bitch confused\nShe got on Payless, me? I got on gator shoes\nI'm shoppin' for chinchillas, in the summer they cheaper\nMan, this ho, you can have her when I'm done, I ain't gon' keep her\nMan, bitches come and go, every nigga pimpin' know\nThis ain't no secret, you ain't gotta keep it on the low\nBitch, choose on me, I'll have you strippin' in the street\nPut my other hoes down, you get your ass beat\nNow Niki my bottom bitch, she always come up with my bread\nThe last nigga she was with put stitches in her head\nGet your ho out of pocket, I'll put a charge on a bitch\n'Cause I need four TVs and AMGs for the six\nHo, make a pimp rich, I ain't payin', bitch\nCatch a date, suck a dick, shit (Trick)\nI don't know what you heard about me (Yeah)\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar out of me (Woo)\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see (Uh-huh)\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\nI don't know what you heard about me (Uh-huh)\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar out of me (Yeah)\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\n\nYeah\nIn Hollywood they say, \"There's no business like show business\"\nIn the hood they say, \"There's no business like ho business,\" you know?\nThey say I talk a little fast, but if you listen a lil' faster, I ain't got to slow down for you to catch up, bitch\nHa-ha-ha\nYeah"}
{"text":"Hey Em, you know you my favorite white boy, right? (Hahaha)\nI owe you for this one\n\nI been patiently waitin' for a track to explode on (Yeah)\nYou can stunt if you want and your ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)\nAnd it feels like my flow's been hot for so long (Yeah)\nIf you thinkin' I'ma fuckin' fall off, you're so wrong (It's 50)\n\nI'm innocent in my head, like a baby born dead\nDestination heaven, sit and politic with passengers from 9\/11 (Yeah)\nThe Lord's blessings leave me lyrically inclined (Uh-huh)\nShit, I ain't even got to try to shine (Woo)\nGod's the seamstress that tailor-fitted my pain\nI got scriptures in my brain, I could spit at your dame\nStraight out the good book, look, niggas is shook\n50 fear no man, warrior, swing swords like Conan\nPicture me, pen in hand, writin' lines knowin' The Source'll quote it\nWhen I die, they'll read this and say a genius wrote it\nI grew up without my pops, should that make me bitter?\nI caught cases, I copped out, does that make me a quitter?\nIn this white man's world, I'm similar to a squirrel\nLookin' for a slut with a nice butt to get a nut\nIf I get shot today, my phone'll stop ringin' again\nThese industry niggas ain't friends, they know how to pretend\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI been patiently waitin' for a track to explode on (Yeah)\nYou can stunt if you want and your ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)\nAnd it feels like my flow's been hot for so long (Yeah)\nIf you thinkin' I'ma fuckin' fall off, you're so wrong (It's 50)\nI been patiently waitin' for a track to explode on (Yeah)\nYou can stunt if you want and your ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)\nAnd it feels like my flow's been hot for so long (Yeah)\nIf you thinkin' I'ma fuckin' fall off, you're so wrong (It's 50)\n\nYou've been patiently waitin' to make it through all the hatin'\nDebatin' whether or not you can even weather the storm\nAnd as you lay on the table, they operatin' to save you\nIt's like an angel came to you, sent from the heavens above\nThey think they're crazy, but they ain't crazy, let's face it, shit, basically\nThey're just playin' sick, they ain't shit, they ain't sayin' shit, spray 'em, 50\nA to the K, get in the way, I'll bring Dre and them with me\nAnd turn this day into fuckin' mayhem, you stayin' with me?\nDon't let me lose you, I'm not tryna confuse you\nWhen I let loose with this Uzi and just shoot through your Isuzu\nYou get the message? Am I gettin' through to you?\nYou know what's comin'? You motherfuckers don't even know, do you?\nTake some Big and some Pac and you mix 'em up in a pot\nSprinkle a little Big L on top, what the fuck do you got?\nYou got the realest and illest killers tied up in a knot\nThe juggernauts of this rap shit, like it or not\nIt's like a fight to the top just to see who'd die for the spot\nYou put your life in this, nothin' like survivin' a shot\nY'all know what time it is, soon as 50 signs on this dot\nShit, what you know about death threats? 'Cause I get a lot\nShady Records was eighty seconds away from the towers\nSome cowards fucked with the wrong building, they meant to hit ours\nBetter evacuate all children (Woo), it's nuclear showers\nThere's nothin' spookier, you're now about to witness the power of fuckin' 50\nI been patiently waitin' for a track to explode on (Yeah)\nYou can stunt if you want and your ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)\nAnd it feels like my flow's been hot for so long (Yeah)\nIf you thinkin' I'ma fuckin' fall off, you're so wrong (It's 50)\n\nIf the gun squad hearin' all the shots go off\nIt's 50, they say it's 50\nSee a nigga laid out with his fuckin' top blown off\nIt's 50, man, that wasn't 50, don't holla my name\n\nYou know you shouldn't throw stones if you live in a glass house (Yeah)\nAnd if you got a glass jaw, you should watch your mouth\n'Cause I'll break your face (Uh-huh)\nHave your ass runnin', mumblin' to the jake\nYou goin' against me, dawg, you're makin' a mistake\nI'll split ya, leave you lookin' like the Michael Jackson jackets with all them zippers\nI'm the boss on this boat, you can call me skipper (Uh-huh)\nThe way I turn the money over, you should call me flipper (Flipper)\nYour bitch a regular bitch, you callin' her wifey\nI fucked and feed her fast food, you keepin' her icy\nI'm down to sell records, but not my soul\nSnoop said this in '94, \"We don't love them hoes\"\nI got pennies for my thoughts, now I'm rich\nSee the twenties spinnin' lookin' mean on the 6\nNiggas wearin' flags 'cause the colors match they clothes\nThey get caught in the wrong hood and filled up with holes, motherfucker\nI been patiently waitin' for a track to explode on (Yeah)\nYou can stunt if you want and your ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)\nAnd it feels like my flow's been hot for so long (Yeah)\nIf you thinkin' I'ma fuckin' fall off, you're so wrong (It's 50)\nI been patiently waitin' for a track to explode on (Yeah)\nYou can stunt if you want and your ass'll get rolled on (It's 50)\nAnd it feels like my flow's been hot for so long (Yeah)\nIf you thinkin' I'ma fuckin' fall off, you're so wrong (It's 50)"}
{"text":"My, yeah, yeah, mmm\nMy life, my life\nMakes me wanna run away\nThere's no place to go\nNo place to go\nAll the confusion\nIt's an illusion, like a movie\nGot nowhere to go\nNowhere to run and hide\nNo matter how hard I try, yeah\n\nYeah, '03, I went from quite filthy to filthy rich\nMan, their emotions change, so I can never trust a bitch\nI tried to help niggas get on, they turned around and spit\nRight in my face, so Game and Buck both can suck a dick\nNow when you hear 'em it may sound like it's some other shit\n\u2018Cause I'm not writin' anymore, they not makin' hits\nI'm far from perfect, there's so many lessons I done learned\nIf money's evil, look at all the evil I done earned\nI'm doin' what I'm supposed to\nI'm a writer, I'm a fighter, entrepreneur\nFresh out the sewer, watch me maneuver\u2014what's it to ya?\nThe track I lace it, it's better than basic\nThis is my recovery, my comeback, kid\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nMy life, my life\nMakes me wanna run away\nThere's no place to go\nNo place to go\nAll the confusion\nIt's an illusion, like a movie\nGot nowhere to go\nNowhere to run and hide\nNo matter how hard I try, yeah\n\nWhile you were sippin' your own Kool-Aid gettin' your buzz heavy\nI was in the fuckin' shed, sharpenin' my machete\nSippin' on some of that revenge juice, gettin' my taste buds ready\nTo wolf down this spaghetti or should I say this spa-get-even?\nI think you fuckin' meatballs keep on just forgettin'\nThought he was finished, motherfucker, it's only the beginnin'\nHe's buggin' again, he's straight thuggin', fuck who he's offendin'! (Yeah!)\nHe'll rip your vocal chords out and have them bitches plugged in the\nMotherfuckin' wall with 3000 volts of electricity\nNow take the other end of 'em, then plug them motherfuckers-in-each\nOne of your eye sockets 'cause I thought you might finally fuckin' see\nThat'll teach you to go voicin' your cocksuckin' opinion to me\nI done put my blood, my sweat and my tears in this shit, fuck lettin'\nUp! You\u2019re gonna end up regrettin' you ever betted against me\nFeels like I'ma snap any minute\nYeah, it's happenin' again\nAnd I'm thinkin' about just sayin', \"Motherfuck everybody that's up in this bitch but 50!\"\n\u2018Cause this is all I know\nThis is why so hard I go\nI swear to God I put my heart and soul\nIn this more than anybody knows\nI'm trapped, so all I do is rap\nBut every time I rap I'm more trapped\nAnd I rap myself right to this bubble\nOh I guess it's bubble wrap (Haha)\nIt's like a vicious cycle, my life's in a crisis\nChrist, how was I supposed to know shit would turn up like it did?\nFeels like I'm goin' psycho again (Ch, ch, ch, ch)\nAnd I might just blow my lid\nShit, I almost wish that I would have never made Recovery, kid\n\u2018Cause I'm runnin' in circles with\u2014\nMy life, my life\nMakes me wanna run away\nThere's no place to go\nNo place to go\nAll the confusion\nIt's an illusion, like a movie\nGot nowhere to go\nNowhere to run and hide\nNo matter how hard I try, yeah\n\nI haven't been this fuckin' confused since I was a kid\nSold like 40 million records, people forgot what I did\nMaybe this is for me, maybe\nMaybe I'm supposed to go crazy\nMaybe I'll do it 3 a.m. in the morning like Shady\nPsycho killer, Michael Myers\nI'm on fire like a lighter\nTry to say this ain't classic, get yo' ass kicked mad quick\nWrap your head up in plastic\nPussy, now pick the casket\nDirt nap with the maggots, it's tragic\nIt's sad, it's never gonna end\nNow we number one again\nWith that frown on your face and your heart full of hate\nAccept it, respect it, this a gift God-given\nLike the air in the lungs of every fuckin' thing livin'\nMy life, my life\nMakes me wanna run away\nThere's no place to go\nNo place to go\nAll the confusion\nIt's an illusion, like a movie\nGot nowhere to go\nNowhere to run and hide\nNo matter how hard I try, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)"}
{"text":"Yeah, uh-huh\nSo seductive\n\nI'll take you to the candy shop\nI'll let you lick the lollipop\nGo 'head, girl, don't you stop\nKeep goin' until you hit the spot, whoa\nI'll take you to the candy shop (Yeah)\nWant one taste of what I got? (Uh-huh)\nI'll have you spendin' all you got (Come on)\nKeep goin' until you hit the spot, whoa\n\nYou could have it your way, how do you want it?\nYou gon' back that thing up or should I push up on it?\nTemperature risin', okay, let's go to the next level\nDance floor jam-packed, hot as a tea kettle\nI'll break it down for you now, baby, it's simple\nIf you be a nympho, I be a nympho\nIn the hotel or in the back of the rental\nOn the beach or in the park, it's whatever you into\nGot the magic stick, I'm the love doctor\nHave your friends teasin' you 'bout how sprung I got you\nWanna show me you could work it, baby? No problem\nGet on top, then get to bounce around like a low rider\nI'm a seasoned vet when it come to this shit\nAfter you work up a sweat, you could play with the stick\nI'm tryin' to explain, baby, the best way I can\nI'll melt in your mouth, girl, not in your hand, ha-ha\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI'll take you to the candy shop\nI'll let you lick the lollipop\nGo 'head, girl, don't you stop\nKeep goin' until you hit the spot, whoa\nI'll take you to the candy shop\nWant one taste of what I got?\nI'll have you spendin' all you got\nKeep goin' until you hit the spot, whoa\n\nGirl, what we do (What we do)\nAnd where we do (And where we do)\nThe things we do (Things we do)\nAre just between me and you, yeah (Oh yeah)\n\nGive it to me, baby, nice and slow\nClimb on top, ride like you in a rodeo\nYou ain't never heard a sound like this before\n'Cause I ain't never put it down like this\nSoon as I come through the door, she get to pullin' on my zipper\nIt's like it's a race, who could get undressed quicker\nIsn't it ironic, how erotic it is to watch her in thongs?\nHad me thinkin' 'bout that ass after I'm gone\nI touched the right spot at the right time\nLights on or lights off, she like it from behind\nSo seductive, you should see the way she whine\nHer hips in slow-mo on the floor when we grind\nLong as she ain't stoppin', homie, I ain't stoppin'\nDrippin' wet with sweat, man, it's on and poppin'\nAll my champagne campaign, bottle after bottle, it's on\nAnd we gon' sip 'til every bubble in every bottle is gone\nI'll take you to the candy shop\nI'll let you lick the lollipop\nGo 'head, girl, don't you stop\nKeep goin' until you hit the spot, whoa\nI'll take you to the candy shop\nWant one taste of what I got?\nI'll have you spendin' all you got\nKeep goin' until you hit the spot, whoa\nI'll take you to the candy shop\nI'll let you lick the lollipop\nGo 'head, girl, don't you stop\nKeep goin' until you hit the spot, whoa\nI'll take you to the candy shop\nWant one taste of what I got?\nI'll have you spendin' all you got\nKeep goin' until you hit the spot, whoa"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsI\u2019m the Man Lyrics\n\nI came in the world cryin' and fussin'\nNigga, we ain't have nothin'\nEvery ghetto I know the same\nWe trying to make a little change\nPreacher man come around talkin'\nI don't wanna hear it, keep walkin'\nI'ma put the powder in the pot\nWhip it 'till I'm pullin' off a lot\nImagine when I pull it off the lot (Sunny Digital)\nNew shit come without a top\nOnce I'm on I ain't never gon' stop\nBitch, I'm on, I ain't never gon' stop\n\nI'm the man, I'm the man, I'm the man\nI'm the man, I'm the man, I'm the man\n\nAye, came in the game gettin' money\nFlippin' chickens, whip it, gettin' money\nNiggas get to playin' with the money\nClique bang for the money\nShit changed over money\nThey love to see a nigga on the bottom\nCatch it coming, gotta keep it on the low\nA nigga plug bless a nigga with a whole\nWanna break the bitch down into 36 O's\nLooky here, bitch, I'm A-okay\nShorty wanna fuck with me\nStripping, yeah, the jiggy, nigga\nLady, she gon' hit my line\nWe ain't gon' waste no time\nShe sucking and we fucking like she need me\nWhile she make a bankroll easy\nAll the light in the room from the T.V\nWe gettin' it on then I'm gone\nIt's the type of shit that a nigga be on\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nToo much on my mind right now\nI'm on the grind right now\nLooking for me, sucker, then I need to be found right now\nI got my nine right now\nBitch, I'll blow your mind right now\nI ain't fucking around right now\nBetter get in line right now\nOr fuck around and die right now\nHope you understand that\n\nBitch, I'm the man, ho, I'm the man you know I'm the man\nBitch, I'm the man, ho, I'm the man you know I'm the man\nBitch, I'm the man, ho, I'm the man you know I'm the man\nBitch, I'm the man, ho, I'm the man you know I'm the man\n\nI'm a bonafide grade A hustler\nA1, day 1, they can't touch us\nNigga like me, I be with the shit\nTry and stick me I'ma get you hit\nYeah, you know just how I get down\nBad bitches around, they smoking and they drinking\nAnd I'm thinking it can all work out\nSeen your bitch back blown out\nIt's never nothing personal, believe me\nI fuck around, your bitch don't wanna leave me\nShe talking 'bout takin' flights tonight when I'm out of town\nNot around, she want me to fly in to put it down\nIt's nothing to a real nigga, had that ass flying in first class\n'Cause you seem to be regular, she don't want nothing regular\nTurn me on when she talk Spanish, that fat ass\nYou know I wanna get with it, so lady let's get it\nToo much on my mind right now\nI'm on the grind right now\nLooking for me, sucker, then I need to be found right now\nI got my nine right now\nBitch, I'll blow your mind right now\nI ain't fucking around right now\nBetter get in line right now\nOr fuck around and die right now\nHope you understand that\n\nBitch, I'm the man, ho, I'm the man you know I'm the man\nBitch, I'm the man, ho, I'm the man you know I'm the man\nBitch, I'm the man, ho, I'm the man you know I'm the man\nBitch, I'm the man, ho, I'm the man you know I'm the man"}
{"text":"Woo, yeah\nIt's 50 AKA Ferrari F-50\nBreak it down\nI got a lot of livin' to do 'fore I die\nAnd I ain't got time to waste\nLet's make it\n\nYou say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin'\nWe say you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'\n\nYou ain't a friend of mine (Yeah!), you ain't no kin of mine (C'mon!)\nWhat makes you think that I won't run up on you with a .9? (Uh-huh)\nWe do this all the time (What?), right now we on the grind (Yeah)\nSo hurry up and cop and go, we sellin' nicks and dimes (Uh-huh)\nShorty, she so fine, I gotta make her mine\nAn ass like that gotta be one of a kind (Woo)\nI crush 'em every time, punch 'em with every line\nI'm fuckin' with they mind, I make 'em press rewind\nThey know they can't shine if I'm around to rhyme\nBeen on parole since '94 'cause I commit the crime\nI send you my line, I did a three-to-nine\nThe Ds ran up in my crib, you know who droppin' dimes\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nYou say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin'\nWe say you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'\nYou go to the dealership, but you don't never cop nothin'\nYou been hustlin' a long time and you ain't got nothin'\nYou say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin'\nWe say you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'\nYou go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin'\nYou been hustlin' a long time and you ain't got nothin'\n\nDamn, homie\nIn high school you was the man, homie, the fuck happened to you?\nI got the sickest vendetta when it come to the cheddar (Uh-huh)\nNigga, you play with my paper, you gon' meet my Beretta\nNow shorty think I'ma sweat her (Uh-huh), sippin' on Amaretto (Yeah)\nI might hit once, then dead her, I know I can do better\nShe look good, but I know she after my cheddar\nShe tryin' to get in my pockets, homie, and I ain't gon' let her\nBe easy, start some bullshit, you get your whole crew wet\nWe in the club doin' the same old two-step\nGuerrilla Unit, cuz, they say we bugged out\n'Cause we don't go nowhere without toast, we thugged out\n\nYou say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin'\nWe say you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'\nYou go to the dealership, but you don't never cop nothin'\nYou been hustlin' a long time and you ain't got nothin'\nYou say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin'\nWe say you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'\nYou go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin'\nYou been hustlin' a long time and you ain't got nothin'\nMe, I'm no mobster, me, I'm no gangsta\nMe, I'm no hitman (Yeah), me, I'm just me, me\nMe, I'm no wanksta, me, I'm no actor\nBut it's me you see on your TV\n'Cause I hustle, baby, this rap shit is so easy\nI'm gettin' what you get for a brick to talk greasy (Woo)\nBy any means, partner, I got to eat on these streets\nWhen you play me close, for sure I'm gonna pop my heat\nNiggas sayin' they gon' murk 50, how?\nWe ridin' 'round with guns the size of Lil Bow Wow\nWhat you know about AKs and AR-15s\nEquipped with night vision, shell catchers and inf-beams, huh?\n\nYou say you gangsta, but you never pop nothin'\nWe say you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'\nYou go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin'\nYou been hustlin' a long time and you ain't got nothin'\nYou say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothin'\nWe say you a wanksta and you need to stop frontin'\nYou go to the dealership, but you never cop nothin'\nYou been hustlin' a long time and you ain't got nothin'\n\nAha\nDamn, homie"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsBest Friend Lyrics\nYeah! It's my tape man, listen to my tape\n(I've waited\nI've waited\nTime went by\nBut all I could do is cry\nSilly, silly)\n\nIf I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me all the time)\nGirl, I'll be your best friend\nIf you promise you'll be mine (Girl promise you'll be mine)\nPlease say he's just a friend (Uh huh)\nNow girl let's not pretend (Come on)\nEither he is or he ain't your man (Ha Ha!)\nPlease say he's just a friend\nIf I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me all the time)\nGirl, I'll be your best friend\nIf you promise you'll be mine (Girl promise you'll be mine)\nPlease say he's just a friend (Uh huh)\nNow girl let's not pretend (Come on)\nEither he is or he ain't your man (Ha Ha!)\nPlease say he's just a friend\nIf I was your best friend\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nFirst we get to talkin, then we get to touchin\nIf we get past the phone games we'll be fuckin\nI kiss like the french do, I put my tongue in your ear\nDo it like the dogs do it girl and pull on your hair\nFor me a different scenery just mean a different position\nIn the tub or on the sink I improvise now listen\nIn the chopper or on the jet, join the mile high club\nI'm no fool I know money can't buy me love\nBut I'm a different type of nigga that make sure that you know\nInstead of a rose, there's a hundred dozen of those\nSee I see somethin special when I look in your eyes\nWith your legs way back I see this pussy is mine\nIf you ain't sure when I'm talkin I don't tell you no lies\nBut there's things that you say that have me wonderin why\nWhen I don't say what I'm thinkin it don't mean that I'm shy\nGot on that shit you picked out for me that's why I'm so fly\n\nIf I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me all the time)\nGirl, I'll be your best friend\nIf you promise you'll be mine (Girl promise you'll be mine)\nPlease say he's just a friend (Uh huh) now girl let's not pretend (Come on)\nEither he is or he ain't your man (Ha Ha!)\nPlease say he's just a friend\nIf I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me all the time)\nGirl, I'll be your best friend\nIf you promise you'll be mine (Girl promise you'll be mine)\nPlease say he's just a friend (Uh huh)\nNow girl let's not pretend (Come on)\nEither he is or he ain't your man (Ha Ha!)\nPlease say he's just a friend\nIf I was your best friend\nWhile you in your bubble bath I'll come wash on your back\nWhen you puttin on your lotion I can help you with that\nI sit and think of things to say that may make you smile\nOr give you gifts from my heart to reflect my style\nOr slang I use when we build may change how you talk\nAnd if I'm focused while I'm strokin I could change how you walk\nThat's the swagger you come with when you come from New York\nI'm a hustler I just hustle in the things that I bought\nSeparate me from the rest, I feel like I'm the best\nIf there's a price to pay for feelin you I pay that twice\nI'm as ghetto as it gets girl you know that's right\nI ain't got nothin to hide baby I tell you my secrets\n'Fore you end up bein 'round long enough to peep shit\nI get closer to you, I mean closer than close\nI get into you, after I take off my clothes\nGirl I been into you, mentally long before\n\nIf I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me all the time)\nGirl, I'll be your best friend\nIf you promise you'll be mine (Girl promise you'll be mine)\nPlease say he's just a friend (Uh huh) now girl let's not pretend (Come on)\nEither he is or he ain't your man (Ha Ha!)\nPlease say he's just a friend\nIf I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me all the time)\nGirl, I'll be your best friend\nIf you promise you'll be mine (Girl promise you'll be mine)\nPlease say he's just a friend (Uh huh)\nNow girl let's not pretend (Come on)\nEither he is or he ain't your man (Ha Ha!)\nPlease say he's just a friend\nIf I was your best friend"}
{"text":"94 ContributorsWe Up Lyrics\nYeah, uh-huh\n\nThey don't do it how we do\nNiggas ain't on the shit we on (we on, we on)\nEverything new\nSpikes on the Louboutins (boutins, boutins)\n\nI'm 'round the bullshit like a matador\nI'm used to the bullshit, it don't matter boy\nCorporate acquisitions, accumulations of wealth\nBuild with the gods and double knowledge of self\nEntrepreneur visions, Moulin Rouge religion\nThat pussy make a weak nigga break down\nSo what you want, the cheese or the cheeks?\nYou want the cheeks but she want the cheese, a bitch gotta eat\nI'm havin' the epiphany, you niggas ain't shit to me\nWorse than the scum in the slum I'm from\nI'm a Southside nigga, yeah, I'm 'bout mine\nYou be that next nigga coroners come outline\nYou ain't made of what I'm made of\nYou a bum nigga with a bum bitch, her shoes come from Bakers\nYou counterfeit, fraudulent fakers\nWhat kind of rich nigga bitch look like that?\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nWe on now; we pullin' off the lot\nBrake, hit the button, then we pulling down the top\nShine's on, stuntin', and I'm pullin' out a knot\nStrapped with the Glock, won't pull it out a lot\nBut front, I'll make it pop\nY'all don't do it how we do\nNiggas ain't on the shit we on (we on, we on)\nEverything new\nSpikes on the Louboutins (boutins, boutins)\nWe up, nigga!\n\nVisualize everything I needed and dream (Uh-huh)\nPenalized every ho nigga that had a scheme (What else?)\nGuns in your video get you locked in the bing\nYeah, I kill a nigga quick, no worries, my record clean\nMurder one become manslaughter as soon as they brought up (Whoa!)\nCharity work, parking tickets and no charges (Oh!)\nFuck nigga you fucked over your father\nWhen he gave you a dick\nShould have been a bitch in pajamas\nI made my first million fucking dollars\nBought a Bible, oh yeah, God got me\nMade my second million dollars, bought a chopper and binocular\nI'm scared, this shit don't happen to everybody\nI'm on Instagram looking at your favorite singer\nDebating on should I fuck or jump on her single\n20 thou, she got a hell of a adlib\nI'm in her mouth like I knew I could have kids, K-Dot\nWe on now; we pullin' off the lot\nBrake, hit the button, then we pulling down the top\nShine's on, stuntin', and I'm pullin' out a knot\nStrapped with the Glock, won't pull it out a lot\nBut front, I'll make it pop\nY'all don't do it how we do\nNiggas ain't on the shit we on (we on, we on)\nEverything new\nSpikes on the Louboutins (boutins, boutins)\nWe up, nigga!\n\nGood pussy for dinner, b-bomb kush for breakfast\nD colored VS stones around my neck, bitch\nIt feels like a nigga dreamin'\nSeat back, music bumpin', niggas leanin'\nBullseye, that's what we came for\nThe bread, now a nigga run the game, boy\nI should've sent the broad to report what's in the yard\nAloof livin', I came up so hard\nNo pain, no gain, it's embedded in the brain\nI'm in it for the grip, motherfuck the fame\n\nWe on now; we pullin' off the lot\nBrake, hit the button, then we pulling down the top\nShine's on, stuntin', and I'm pullin' out a knot\nStrapped with the Glock, won't pull it out a lot\nBut front, I'll make it pop\nY'all don't do it how we do\nNiggas ain't on the shit we on (we on, we on)\nEverything new\nSpikes on the Louboutins (boutins, boutins)\nWe up, nigga!\n'Round the world tourin', the city got boring\nBury me a G with a new pair of Jordans\nCoupe foreign, top peeled like an orange\nBlue Ferrari, so many iron horses\nLiving life with no worries\nMy gun got a Zodiac sign, it's a Taurus\nDon't make it slam on you like Amar'e\nM-Zone Rida Gang end the story\nOops, that's your baby, my bad, I'm sorry\nShe call me daddy too, we should be on Maury\nEverything you aren't, fly nigga soaring\nPurple label Ralph Lauren, kick game like Atari\nYou so special, bedroom or restroom\nJust keep performing, go girl\nAbout to film a movie, guess who's starring"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsGhetto Qu\u2019ran (Forgive Me) Lyrics\nUh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, Southside\nNow what y'all niggas know about the dirty South?\nOne time\n\nLord forgive me, for I've sinned\nOver and over again just to stay on top\nI recall memories, filled with sin\nOver and over again, and again (And again and again)\n\nYo, when you hear talk of the Southside, you hear talk of the Team\nSee niggas feared Prince and respected 'Preme\nFor all you slow motherfuckers, I'ma break it down iller\nSee Preme was the business man and Prince was the killer\nRemember, he used to push the bulletproof BM, uh-huh\nHis hair'll get you seasick, I sat back and peeped shit\nThey rolled with E-Z Wider then, they ain't get blunted\nHad the whole projects working for 50 on 500\nAs a youth, all I ever did was sell crack, I used to idolize Cat\nHurt me to my heart to hear that nigga snitched on Pap\nHow he go out like that?\nRumors in the hood was Gus was snitching\nI ain't believe that, pa, he helped me cop my first GSXR\nHad the 4-runner, the Z, the 5 and the 3\nUsed to drive his truck through the hood dragging jet skis\nFrom Gerald Wallace to Baby Wise, don't be surprised\nOf how freely I throw out names of guys who dealt with pies\nLike L.A. and Wise, L got shot in the neck, then told his connect\nThem niggas who shot them got 'em for ten bricks\nFucking Dominicans, turned around and gave 'em more bricks\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nLord forgive me, for I've sinned\nOver and over again just to stay on top\nI recall memories, filled with sin\nOver and over again, and again (And again and again)\n\nThat first verse is just a dose of the shit that I'm on\nConsider this the first chapter in the ghetto's Qu'ran\nI know a lot of niggas that get dough like Bimmy and Joe\nAnd Prince and Righteous from Hillside with the mole on his nose\nThroughout my struggles in the hood, I started learning\nLife's a bitch with a pretty face, but she burning\nMan, I'ma get cheese like Chaz then run through whips like Cigar\nGamble all the time like country-curly head Prince and Tah-Tah\nPo-po under pressure too, they know what they facing\nGo against crews like Bebo and killers like Pappy Mason\nA lot of niggas I know been corrupted since birth\nTypes to rob nuns for fun, for everything they worth\nI know some cats that held down whole complexes like Corley Wall\nTogether niggas stand and divided they fall\nRound here, shook niggas they keep it in motion\nCome around here with your Rollie, you can get robbed like Ocean\nLord knows, Tommy had Laurelton sold\nHelicopters, Rolls Royces with Louis Vuitton interior\nMight sound like I'm fantasizing, but, son, I'm dead serious\nMontana was no dummy, brought business to wash the money\nHad money out the ass, he politic like the Asians\nFeds couldn't catch him dirty so settled for tax evasion\nLord forgive me, for I've sinned\nOver and over again just to stay on top\nI recall memories, filled with sin\nOver and over again, and again (And again and again)\n\nYo, rest in peace to Rich and Ron, money what they was about, yo\nThe twins was from Queens but got crazy cream with Alpo\nThroughout my time, I heard tales of Himey, Frenchy\nJamaican Pauly, Duckie Corley, Ronnie Bumps and Chick, shit\nA lot of niggas flow the way I flow\nBut ain't been in the game all their life so don't know who I know\nWriting rhymes is the best way I express how I feel\nIf I ain't rich by twenty-six, I'll be dead or in jail\nComing up, I heard sipping too much booze'll leave you confused\nAnd if you watch the news, you see players in this game, they lose\nI'm forgetting Lefty and Jazz, Pretty Tony and Lance\nHead Luc, Mel son, Troy and E Money Bags\nIn a conversation over shrimp and lobster at Benihana's\nHeard Chico stopped boxing, and started robbing diners\nShout out to Clarence and Clutch, Bob Dre, Black Will\nIf the flow don't kill you, the MAC will\n\nLord forgive me, for I've sinned\nOver and over again just to stay on top\nI recall memories, filled with sin\nOver and over again, and again (And again and again)"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsHustler\u2019s Ambition Lyrics\nLike the fire needs the air\nI won't burn unless you're there, you're there\nOooh I need you\nLike the fire needs the air\nI won't burn unless you're there, you're there\nOooh I need you\n\nYeah, I need you, I need you to hate\nSo I can use you for your energy\nYou know, it's real shit, feel this\n\nAmerica got a thing for this gangster shit, they love me\nBlack Chukkas, black skully, leather Pelle Pelle\nI tag SPIT over Ramo's shit, I'm a vandal\nGot that silver duct tape on my trey-eight handle\nThe women in my life bring confusion and shit\nSo like Nino in \"New Jack,\" I holla \"Cancel that bitch!\"\nLook at me, this is the life I chose\nNiggas around me so cold, man my heart done froze\nI built an empire on the low, the NARC's don't know\nI'm the weatherman, I take that cocoa leaf and make that snow\nSit back, watch it turn to dope, watch it go out the do'\nO after O, you know?\nHomie, I'm just triple beam, dreaming, niggas be scheming\nI fiend to live the good life, the fiends are just fiendin'\nConceal my weapon nice and neat so you can't see\nThe penitentiary is definitely out the question for me\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI want the finer things in my life\nSo I hustle (Hustle)\nNigga, you get in my way while I'm trying to get mine\nAnd I'll buck you (Buck you)\nI don't care who you run with, or where you from\nNigga, fuck you (Fuck you)\nI want the finer things in my life\nSo I hustle (Hustle)\n\nYeah, I don't know shit about gymnastics, I somersault bricks\nAnd black talons start flying when a nigga flip\nI cook crack in the microwave, niggas can't fuck with me\nMan my co-d's call me Chef Boyar-50\nCheck my logic, smokers don't like seeds in they weed, shit\nSend me them seeds, I'll grow them what they need\nThem ain't Chia pet plants in the crib, that's chronic\nAnd I'm selling them for 500 a pop, goddamn it\nI sell anything I'm a hustler, I know how to grind\nStep on grapes, put it in water and tell you it's wine\nIf you analyze me, what you will find\nIs the DNA of a crook and what goes on in my mind\nIs contagious, hypnotic, it sounds melodic\nIf rap was the block or a spot, I'd be that potent product\nNow get a load of me, flashy, far from low key\nAnd you can locate me wherever that dope be\nGetting money man\nI want the finer things in my life\nSo I hustle (Hustle)\nNigga, you get in my way while I'm trying to get mine\nAnd I'll buck you (Buck you)\nI don't care who you run with, or where you from\nNigga, fuck you (Fuck you)\nI want the finer things in my life\nSo I hustle (Hustle)\n\nIt's the Hustler's Ambition, close your eyes, listen see my vision\nMossberg pumpin', shotgun dumpin'\nThe drama means nothing, it's part of the game\nCatch me in the coup\u00e9 switching lanes or in the jeweler switching chains\nI upgrade from dirty \"BS\" to clean VS\nRocks that I copped from proceeds from the spot\nI got the energy to win, I'm full of adrenaline\nPlay the curb and get nauseous, watching the spinners spin\nI made plans to make it, a prisoner of the state\nNow I can invite your ass out to my estate\nThem hollow tips bent me up, but I'm back in shape\nPour Cristal in the blender, make a protein shake\nI'm like the East coast number one playboy B\nHugh Hefner'll tell you he ain't got shit on me\nThe feds watch me, icey, they can't stop me\nRacist, pointing at me, \"Look at Niggaraci\" - hello\nI want the finer things in my life\nSo I hustle (Hustle)\nNigga, you get in my way while I'm trying to get mine\nAnd I'll buck you (Buck you)\nI don't care who you run with, or where you from\nNigga, fuck you (Fuck you)\nI want the finer things in my life\nSo I hustle (Hustle)"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsBig Rich Town Lyrics\nThey say this is a big, rich town\nI just come from the poorest part\nBright lights, city life, I gotta make it\nThis is where it goes down\nI just happen to come up hard\nLegal or illegal, baby, I gotta make it\n\nI never took a straight path nowhere, life's full of twist and turns\nBumps and bruises, I live, I learn\nI'm from that city full of yellow cabs and skyscrapers\nIt's hard to get a start in these parts without paper\nHomie, I grew up in hell, a block away from heaven\nThat corner every 15 minutes they moving seven\nPure snow, bag it then watch it go\nOccupational options, get some blow or some hoes\nShoot the ball or the strap, learn to rap or to jack\nFuck it, man, in the mean time go ahead and pump a pack\nThis my regal royal flow, my James Bond bounce\nThat 007, that 62 on my count\nI'm a undercover liar, I lie under the covers\nLook a bitch in the eyes and tell her ''baby, I love it''\nYou're my inspiration, you're my motivation\nYou're the reason that I'm moving it with no hesitation\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nThey say this is a big, rich town\nI just come from the poorest part\nBright lights, city life, I gotta make it\nThis is where it goes down\nI just happen to come up hard\nLegal or illegal, baby, I gotta make it\n\nI gotta hustle through the hustle and bust while I make a move\nManuever around the rats and wolves, I'm from the school\nOf hard knocks, shots pop, bodies drop\nGraveyard, pick a block cause niggas want your spots\nI'm trying to stack shit then I go legit\nHollow tip, stuff 'em in a clip case niggas trip\nMy cocaine endeavours give me corporate ties\nI'm supposed to lose, watch me win against the odds\nAll I got is my word, balls and my instinct\nI'm trying to make it, we already made it my friends think\nWe already on top, I got a bigger plan\nNo more controlled substances or hand to hand\nWhite collar visions, game changing mission\nBig risks, big wins, equal bigger living\nPerfect position, watch me transition\nFrom caterpillar to butterfly in the sky\nThey say this is a big, rich town\nI just come from the poorest part\nBright lights, city life, I gotta make it\nThis is where it goes down\nI just happen to come up hard\nLegal or illegal, baby, I gotta make it"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easEnglishItalianoWindow Shopper Lyrics\nOhh!\nThe top feel so much better than the bottom\nSo much better\n,\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nMad at me, I think I know why\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nIn the jewelry store lookin' at shit you can't buy\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nIn the dealership tryna get a test drive\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nMad as fuck when you see me ride by\n\nSummertime, white Porsche Carrera is milky\nI'm on the grind, let my paper stack but I'm filthy\nIt's funny how niggas get to screw-facin' at me\nAnyhow they ain't got the heart to get at me\nI'll get down, Southside's the hood that I come from\nSo I don't cruise through nobody hood without my gun\nThey know the kid ain't goin' for all that bullshit\nTry and stick me, I'ma let off a full clip\nIt ain't my fault you don' fucked up your re-up\nAt the dice game, who told you put a G up?\nEverybody mad when they paper don't stack right\nBut when I come around y'all niggas better act right\nWhen we got the tops, down, you can hear the systems thump\nNigga, when we rollin', rollin', rollin'\nShut your block, down, quick to put a hole in a chump\nNigga, when we rollin', rollin', rollin'\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nMad at me, I think I know why\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nIn the jewelry store lookin' at shit you can't buy\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nIn the dealership tryna get a test drive\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nMad as fuck when you see me ride by\n\nNiggas love me in L.A. as soon as I pop in\nThey come to scoop me up at LAX and I hop in\nNow when it comes to bad bitches you know I got them\nSome from Long Beach, some from Watts, some from Compton\nYou know a nigga wanna see how Cali girls freak off\nAfter that five hour flight from New York\nI start spittin' G at a bitch like a pimp, mane\nTell her, \"Meet me at the Mondrian so we can do our thang.\"\nShe can bring the lingerie wit her, I sup-pose\nThen we can go from fully dressed to just havin' no clothes\nThen she can run and tell her best friend 'bout my sex game\nThen her best friend could potentially be next, mane\nListen mane, shit, changed, I came up, I'm doin' my thang\nHomie, I'm holdin', holdin', holdin'\nOh shit, mane, the store owner watchin' you\n'Fore somethin' get stolen, stolen, stolen\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nMad at me, I think I know why\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nIn the jewelry store lookin' at shit you can't buy\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nIn the dealership tryna get a test drive\nNigga, you's a window shopper\nMad as fuck when you see me ride by"}
{"text":"Woo\nYeah\nG-G-G-G-G-Unit (G-Unit)\nHaha\n\nIt's easy to see when you look at me\nIf you look closely, 50 don't back down\nEverywhere I go, both coasts with toast\nEast side, west side, I hold that MAC down\nEvery little nigga you see around me\nHold a gun big enough to fucking hold Shaq down\nNext time you in the hood and see a OG\nYou ask about me, the young boy don't back down\n\nAny living thing that cannot co-exist with the kid\nMust decease existin', little nigga, now listen (Yeah)\nYour mammy, your pappy, that bitch you chasin'\nYour little dirty-ass kids, I'll fucking erase 'em\nYour success is not enough, you wanna be hard (Yeah)\nKnowing that if you get knocked, you get fucked in the yard (Ah)\nYou's a Pop Tart, sweetheart, you soft in the middle (Haha)\nI eat you for breakfast, the watch was an exchange for your necklace\nAnd your boss is a bitch, if he could he would\nSell his soul for cheap, trade his life to be Suge\nYou can buy cars, but can't buy respect in the hood\nMaybe I'm so disrespectful 'cause to me you're a mystery\nI know niggas from your hood, you have no history (Uh-huh)\nNever poked nothing, never popped nothing, nigga stop fronting\nJay put you on, X made you hot\nNow you run around like you some big shot, haha (Haha), pussy\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nIt's easy to see when you look at me\nIf you look closely, 50 don't back down\nEverywhere I go, both coasts with toast\nEast side, west side, I hold that MAC down\nEvery little nigga you see around me\nHold a gun big enough to fucking hold Shaq down\nNext time you in the hood and see a OG\nYou ask about me, the young boy don't back down\n\n\"The rap game is all fucked up now, what are we gonna do now?\nHow we gonna eat man? 50 back around\"\nThat's Ja little punk ass thinking out loud\nSouth side 'til I die, that's just how I get down\nI'm back in the game, shawty, to rule and conquer\nYou sing for hoes and sound like the Cookie Monster\nI'm the hardest from New York, my flow is bonkers\nAll the other hard niggas, they come from Yonkers\nIt's been years and you had the same niggas in the background\nYou're never gonna sell Mitsubishi Tah or Crack Child\nThem niggas there just suck, they no good\nI ain't never heard a nigga say they like them in the hood\nI'm back, better than ever, on top of my game\nEven them country boys saying, \"50 we feeling you, mane\"\nNow y'all stay the fuck outta my zone, outta my throne\nI'm New York City's own bad guy (Bad guy)\nIt's easy to see when you look at me\nIf you look closely, 50 don't back down\nEverywhere I go, both coasts with toast\nEast side, west side, I hold that MAC down\nEvery little nigga you see around me\nHold a gun big enough to fucking hold Shaq down\nNext time you in the hood and see a OG\nYou ask about me, the young boy don't back down\n\nI ain't gon' tell nobody you pussy\nI ain't gon' tell nobody you getting extorted (Nah, it ain't over, G-Unit)\nI've been patiently waiting to blow\nLadies and gentlemen, welcome to \"The 50 Cent Show\"\nThis is my life, my pain, my knife, my gun\nNow that I'm back, you can't sleep, I'm a nightmare, huh?\nYou hired cops to hold you down 'cause you fear for your life\nBut you done heard about them guns I done bought, right?\nI ain't going nowhere, I done told you, nigga\nI'm a G-Unit motherfuckin' soldier, nigga (They not gon' like you)\nI know, I know, haha (G-Unit)\n\nOh no, he didn't say anything about Ja, okay?\nJa is my boo, okay? Jeffrey Atkins ain't never hurt nobody\nAnd y'all know big thangs come in small packages, holla\nNow everythang was cool until 50 Cent came back into the picture\nThey better not put they hands on Jeffrey, okay?\n'Cause first of all, they do not know that I am a twelve degree pink belt, okay?\nI will dice his ass up like a little piece of celery, okay?\n'Cause, see, they don't know me, Delicious\nDo they know me? Okay, I thought so\n'Cause you know I know karate, and I will see him\nAnd I will Jet Li his ass, wa-ta!"}
{"text":"Ayy, you want some of this shit?\nNah, I don't want that shit\nI don't give a fuck\nI don't play that shit, and I'm finna buss a cap in a nigga\nMan, shut the fuck up!\nSlow down, slow down, slow down\nYou see that brick house right there? That's the nigga crib\nWhen he come out you gotta tighten his ass up\nI'ma get in the other car\nAight\n\nIf there's beef, cock it and dump it, the drama really means nothin'\nTo me, I'll ride by and blow your brains out (Brains out)\nThere's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it\nWhen niggas run up on you with them thangs out (Thangs out)\nI do what I gotta do, I don't care I if get caught\nThe DA can play this motherfuckin' tape in court\nI'll kill you, I ain't playin'\nHear what I'm sayin', homie, I ain't playin'\nCatch you slippin', I'ma kill you, I ain't playin'\nHear what I'm saying, homie, I ain't playin'\n\nKeep thinking I'm candy 'til your fucking skull get popped\nAnd your brain hop out the top like Jack-in-the-box (Yeah)\nIn the hood, summertime is the killing season\nIt's hot out this bitch, that's a good enough reason (Woo)\nI've seen gangstas get religious when they start bleeding\nSaying \"Lord, Jesus help me\" 'cause they ass leaking\nWhen that window roll down and that AK come out\nYou can squeeze your little handgun 'til you run out\nAnd you can run for your backup\nBut them machine gun shells gon' tear your back up\nGod's on your side? Shit, I'm aight with that\n'Cause we gon' reload them clips and come right back\nIt's a fact, homie, you go against me, you're fucked\nI get the drop, if you can duck, you're luckier than Lady Luck\nLook, nigga, don't think you safe 'cause you moved out the hood\n'Cause your mama still around, dawg, and that ain't good\nIf you was smart, you'd be shook of me\n'Cause I'll get tired of looking for you, spray your mama crib and let your ass look for me\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nIf there's beef, cock it and dump it, the drama really means nothin'\nTo me, I'll ride by and blow your brains out (Brains out)\nThere's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it\nWhen niggas run up on you with them thangs out (Thangs out)\nI do what I gotta do, I don't care I if get caught\nThe DA can play this motherfuckin' tape in court\nI'll kill you, I ain't playin'\nHear what I'm sayin', homie, I ain't playin'\nCatch you slippin', I'ma kill you, I ain't playin'\nHear what I'm saying, homie, I ain't playin'\n\nMy heart bleeds for you, nigga, I can't wait to get to you\nBehind that twinkle in your eyes, I can see the bitch in you\nNigga, you know the streets talk\nSo there'll be no white flags and no peace talks\nI got my back against the wind, I'm down to ride 'til the sun burn out\nIf I die today I'm happy how my life turned out\nSee the shootouts, I done been in 'em by myself\nLocked up, I was in a box by myself\nI done made myself a millionaire by myself\nNow shit changed, motherfucker, I can hire some help\nI done heard about the fifty grand you put in the hood\nBut your shooter finna get shot, it won't do him no good\nWith a pistol, I define the definition of pain\nIf you survive, your bones'll still fucking hurt when it rains\nOh, you a pro at playing Battleship? Well, this ain't the same\nLittle homie, this is a whole different type of war game\nSee, the losers end up in shackles and motherfucking chains\nOr laid out in the street, leaking out they brains\nIf there's beef, cock it and dump it, the drama really means nothin'\nTo me, I'll ride by and blow your brains out (Brains out)\nThere's no time to cock it, no way you can stop it\nWhen niggas run up on you with them thangs out (Thangs out)\nI do what I gotta do, I don't care I if get caught\nThe DA can play this motherfuckin' tape in court\nI'll kill you, I ain't playin'\nHear what I'm sayin', homie, I ain't playin'\nCatch you slippin', I'ma kill you, I ain't playin'\nHear what I'm saying, homie, I ain't playin'\n\nAfter the fist fights it's gunfire, boy, you get the best of me (Best of me)\nIf you don't wanna get shot, I suggest you don't go testing me (Testing me)\nAll the wrong I've done, the Lord still keep on blessing me (Blessing me)\nFinna run rap 'cause Dr. Dre got the recipe (Recipe, recipe)\n\nYeah, haha, ayy, Dre\nYou got me feeling real bulletproof up in this motherfucker\n'Cause the windows on my motherfucking Benz is bulletproof, nigga\n'Cause my motherfucking vest is bulletproof, nigga\n'Cause my motherfucking hat is bulletproof, nigga\nBut the Doc said if I get hit, I might get a fucking concussion\nBut better that than a hole in the head right, nigga? Hahahaha"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsI\u2019m the Man (Remix) Lyrics\nI came in the world cryin' and fussin'\nNigga, we ain't have nothin'\nEvery ghetto I know the same\nWe tryna make a little change\nPreacher man come around talkin'\nI don't wanna hear it, keep walkin'\nI'ma put the powder in the pot\nWhip it 'til I'm pullin' off a lot (Sonny Digital)\nImagine when I pull it off the lot\nNew shit come without a top\nOnce I'm on, I ain't never gon' stop\nBitch, I'm on, I ain't never gon' stop\n\nI'm the man, I'm the man, I'm the man\nI'm the man, I'm the man, I'm the man\n\nAyy, came in the game gettin' money\nFlippin' chickens, whip it, gettin' money\nNiggas get to playin' with the money\nClique bang for the money, shit changed over money\nThey love to see a nigga on the bottom\nCatch a come up, gotta keep it on the low\nA nigga plug bless a nigga with a whole\nWanna break the bitch down into thirty-six oz\nLooky here, bitch, I'm A-okay\nShawty wanna fuck with me (Oh, baby)\nStrippin', yeah, the jiggy, nigga\nLater, she gon' hit my line\nWe ain't gon' waste no time\nShe suckin' and we fuckin' like she need me\nWhile she make a bankroll easy\nAll the light in the room from the T.V.\nWe gettin' it on, then I'm gone\nThat's the type of shit that a nigga be on\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nToo much on my mind right now\nI'm on the grind right now\nLookin' for me, sucker, then I need to be found right now\nI got my .9 right now\nBitch, I'll blow your mind right now\nI ain't fuckin' 'round right now\nBetter get in line right now\nOr fuck around and die right now\nHope you understand that\n\nBitch, I'm the man (Man)\nHo, I'm the man (Ayy)\nYou know I'm the man\nBitch, I'm the man (Yeah)\nHo, I'm the man (Ayy)\nYou know I'm the man (Ayy)\nBitch, I'm the man (Man)\nHo, I'm the man (Ayy)\nYou know I'm the man (Yeah)\nBitch, I'm the man (Yeah)\nHo, I'm the man (Ayy)\nYou know I'm the man (Ayy)\n\nCame in the game gettin' money\nI fuck with all the bitches gettin' money\nBut you love playin' games with the corny shit\nMessin' with a nigga, only bought it 'cause I want it\nAnd you love to see a nigga at the bottom\nYou tried to come up, you don't keep it on the low\nThey like a drug, don't like you to call 'em hoes\nI'm tryna break that booty down like thirty-six oz\nI think I love a bitch at AOD\nMake that bitch cum for free\nLook at mommy shake it\nI'ma call her, she gon' hit my line, fall in love every time\nBut if I don't pay, she gon' leave me\nNever had a real reason, all I get is bits and pieces\nAnd I believe it, I ain't say this shit was easy, who am I now?\nToo much on my mind right now\nI'm on the grind right now\nLookin' for me, sucker, then I need to be found right now\nI got my .9 right now\nBitch, I'll blow your mind right now\nI ain't fuckin' 'round right now\nBetter get in line right now\nOr fuck around and die right now\nHope you understand that\n\nBitch, I'm the man (Man, yeah)\nHo, I'm the man (Ayy)\nYou know I'm the man (Ooh)\nBitch, I'm the man (Yeah)\nHo, I'm the man (Ayy, yeah)\nYou know I'm the man (Ayy)\nBitch, I'm the man (Man, oh, yeah)\nHo, I'm the man (Ayy)\nYou know I'm the man (Yeah)\nBitch, I'm the man (Yeah)\nHo, I'm the man (Yeah, ayy)\nYou know I'm the man\n\nKnow I'm the man (You know I'm the man)\nI'm the man, I'm the man, I'm the man (Ho, I'm the man)\nThink she ain't special, watch how she change for a nigga, oh, naw\nThey not on my level, that's why I look at you different, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"94 ContributorsIf I Can\u2019t Lyrics\nYeah\nHaha, yeah\nYeah\n\nIf I can't do it, homie\nIt can't be done\nNow I'ma let the champagne bottle pop, I'ma take it to the top\nFor sure, I'ma make it hot, baby (Baby)\n\nI apply pressure to pussies, they stunt and I pop (Yeah)\nStand alone squeezing my pistol, I'm sure that I got 'em (Uh-huh)\nNow, Peter Piper picked peppers, and Run rocked rhymes\nI'm 50 Cent, I write a little bit, but I pop nines (Brrat)\nTell niggas get they money right, 'cause I got mine (Uh-huh)\nAnd I'm around, quit playing, nigga, you can't shine (Woo)\nYou gon' be that next chump to end up in the trunk\nAfter being hit by the pump, is that what you want?\nBe easy, nigga, I'll lay your ass out\nBelieve me, nigga, that's what I'm about\nGangsta, you could find a nigga sitting on chrome\nHit the clutch, hit the gear, hit the gas and I'm gone (Yeah)\n\nIf I can't do it, homie\nIt can't be done\nNow, I'ma let the champagne bottle pop, I'ma take it to the top\nFor sure, I'ma make it hot, baby (Baby)\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI'm down for the action, he smart with his mouth, so smack him (Woo)\nYou holding a strap, he might come back, so clap him (Yeah)\nReact like a gangsta, or die like a gangsta for acting (C'mon)\n'Cause you'll get hit and homicide'll be asking, \"What happened?\"\nOh no, look who crept in with the .44\nTwenty-inch rims sitting on low-pros (Uh-huh)\nEast side, west side, niggas know, yo, I'm loco (Yeah)\nEven my mama said something really wrong with my brain\nNiggas don't rob me, they know I'm down to die for my chain\nG-Unit (Yeah), we get it popping in the hood\nG-Unit (Yeah), motherfucker, what's good?\nI'm waiting on niggas to act like they don't know how to act (Uh-huh)\nAfter sippin' too much Jack, I'll blow 'em off the map\nWith the MAC, thinking it's all rap\n'Til that ass get clapped and Doc say, \"It's a wrap\" (It's a wrap, nigga)\n\nIf I can't do it, homie\nIt can't be done\nNow, I'ma let the champagne bottle pop (Uh-huh), I'ma take it to the top\nFor sure, I'ma make it hot, baby (Baby)\n\nI invented how to teach lessons to slow learners\nGo ahead, act up, get smacked in the head with the burner (Ah)\nI don't fight fair, I'm dirty, dirty\nI'm from Southside Jamaica, Queens, nigga, you heard me? (Yeah)\nWhen the streetlights come on, niggas blast the nines (Uh-huh)\nGet locked up, then read books to pass the time (Woo)\nIn the game, there's ups and downs, so I stay on the grind\nNiggas on my dick more than my bitch, I stay on they mind\nThere ain't nothing they could do to stop my shine (Uh-uh)\nThis is God's plan, homie, this ain't mine\nI played the music loud so Grandpa called me a nuisance\nAnd Grandma always gotta throw in her two cents\nI'm the dropout who made more money than his teachers\nRoofless like the coupe, but I come with more features\nI am what I am, you can like it or love it\nIt feels good to blow fifty grand and think nothing of it, fuck it\nIf I can't do it, homie\nIt can't be done\nNow I'ma let the champagne bottle pop, I'ma take it to the top\nFor sure, I'ma make it hot, baby (Baby)\nIf I can't do it, homie\nIt can't be done (Haha)\nNow I'ma let the champagne bottle pop, I'ma take it to the top (Yeah)\nFor sure I'ma make it hot, baby (Baby)\n\nUh-huh\nI'ma make it hot\nDr. Dre, Aftermath\nShady, haha"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsTranslations50 Cent - Just a Lil\u2019 Bit (Tradu\u00e7\u00e3o em Portugu\u00eas)Just a Lil Bit Lyrics\nYeah\nShady, Aftermath\nG-Unit\n\nDamn, baby, all I need is a lil' bit\nA lil' bit of this, a lil' bit of that\nGet it crackin' in the club when you hear the shit\nDrop it like it's hot, get to workin' that back\nGirl, shake that thang, yeah work that thang\nLet me see it go up and down\nRotate that thang, I wanna touch that thang\nWhen you make it go 'round and 'round\n\nI step up in the club, I'm like, \"Who you with?\"\nG-Unit in the house, yeah, that's my clique\nYeah, I'm young, but a nigga from the old school\nOn the dancefloor a nigga doin' old moves\nI don't give a fuck, I do what I wan' do\nI hit your ass up, boy, I done warned you\nBetter listen when I talk, nigga, don't trip\nYour heat in the car, mine's in this bitch\nI ain't tryna beef, I'm tryna get my drink on\nAnd my diamonds, my fitted, and my mink on\nI'ma kick it at the bar 'til it's time to go\nThen I'ma get in shawty ear and I'ma let her know\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nAll a nigga really need is a lil' bit\nNot a lot, baby girl, just a lil' bit\nWe can head to the crib in a lil' bit\nI can show you how I live in a lil' bit\nI wanna unbutton your pants just a lil' bit\nTake 'em off and pull 'em down just a lil' bit\nGet to kissin' and touchin' a lil' bit\nGet to lickin' it, in a lil' bit\n\nThis is 50 comin' out your stereos\nHard to tell though 'cause I switched the flow\nEyes a lil' low 'cause I twist the 'dro\nPockets on swoll 'cause I move the O's\nMy neck, my wrist, my ears is froze\nCome get your bitch, she on me, dawg\nShe musta heard about the dough\nNow Captain, come on and Save-a-Ho\nI get it crunk in the club, I'm off the chain\nNumber one on the chart all the time mane\nWhen the kid in the house, I turn it out\nKeep the dancefloor packed, that's without a doubt\nBut shawty shake that thang like a pro, man\nShe backed it up on me I'm like \"Oh, man\"\nI got close enough to her, so I know she could hear\nSystem thumpin', party jumpin', I said loud and clear\nAll a nigga really need is a lil' bit\nNot a lot, baby girl, just a lil' bit\nWe can head to the crib in a lil' bit\nI can show you how I live in a lil' bit\nI wanna unbutton your pants just a lil' bit\nTake 'em off and pull 'em down just a lil' bit\nGet to kissin' and touchin' a lil' bit\nGet to lickin' it, in a lil' bit\n\nBaby, you got me feelin' right, you heard me?\nMy momma gone, you can spend the night, you heard me?\nI ain't playin', I'm tryna fuck tonight, you heard me?\nClothes off, face down, ass up, come on, ha-ha\n\n\nAll a nigga really need is a lil' bit\nNot a lot, baby girl, just a lil' bit\nWe can head to the crib in a lil' bit\nI can show you how I live in a lil' bit\nI wanna unbutton your pants just a lil' bit\nTake 'em off and pull 'em down just a lil' bit\nGet to kissin' and touchin' a lil' bit\nGet to lickin' it, in a lil' bit\nAll a nigga really need is a lil' bit\nNot a lot, baby girl, just a lil' bit\nWe can head to the crib in a lil' bit\nI can show you how I live in a lil' bit\nI wanna unbutton your pants just a lil' bit\nTake 'em off and pull 'em down just a lil' bit\nGet to kissin' and touchin' a lil' bit\nGet to lickin' it, in a lil' bit"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsWhat Up Gangsta Lyrics\nG-Unit (Buck), we in here (Buck)\nWe could get the drama poppin', we don't care (Buck, buck, buck)\nIt's going down (Buck), 'cause I'm around (Buck)\n50 Cent, you know how I gets down (Down)\n\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, cuz? (What?)\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, gangsta?\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, cuz? (What?)\nWhat up, blood? (What?) ,what up, gangsta?\nThey say I walk around like I got a S on my chest\nNah, that's a semi-auto and a vest on my chest\nI try not to say nothin' the DA might wanna play in court\nBut I'll hunt a duck nigga down like it's a sport\nFront on me, I'll cut you, gun-butt you or buck you\nYou gettin' money, I can't get none with ya, then fuck ya\nI'm not the type to get knocked for DWI\nI'm the type that'll kill your connect when the coke price rise\nGangstas, they bump my shit, them, they know me\nI grew up around some niggas that's not my homies\nHundred Gs, I stash it (What?), the MAC, I blast it (Yeah)\nDs come, we dump the diesel in battery acid\nThis flow's been mastered, the ice, I flash it\nJux me, I'll have your mama picking out your casket, bastard\nI'm on the next level, Breitling baguette bezel\nBenz pedal to the metal, hotter than a tea kettle\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nBlood (What?), what up, cuz? (What?)\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, gangsta?\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, cuz? (What?)\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, gangsta?\nWe don't play that, we don't play that\nWe don't play that (G-Unit), we don't play around\n\nI sit back, twist the best bud, burn and wonder\nWhen gangstas bump my shit, can they hear my hunger?\nWhen the fifth kick, duck quick, it sound like thunder\nIn December, I'll make your block feel like summer\nThe rap critics say I can rhyme, the fiends say my dope is a nine\nEvery chick I fuck with is a dime\nI'm like Patti LaBelle, homie, I'm on my own\nWhere I lay my hat's my home, I'm a rolling stone\nCross my path, I'll crush ya, thinking I won't touch ya\nI'll have your ass using a wheelchair, cane, or crutches\nIndustry hoes fuck us, in the hood, they love us\nStomp a bone out your ass with some brand new Chukkas\n\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, cuz? (What?)\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, gangsta?\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, cuz? (What?)\nWhat up, blood? (What?), what up, gangsta?\nWe don't play that, we don't play that\nWe don't play that (G-Unit), we don't play around\nWe don't play that, we don't play that\nWe don't play that (G-Unit), we don't play around\nWe don't play that, we don't play that\nWe don't play that (G-Unit), we don't play around\nWe don't play that, we don't play that\nWe don't play that (G-Unit), we don't play around"}
{"text":"\nYo, yo, yo, yo, y'all know who this is, boy, for real\nThe art of getting robbed\nThis is how we do, Brooklyn-style, boy, you know what I'm saying?\nR.I.P. B.I.G., nigga, R.I.P. P.A.C.\u00a0\nR.I.P.\u2014Enough of that shit, it's time to O.D.\u00a0\nI got my nigga 50 Cent, yo, this is how  to rob a industry nigga, yo\nDon't take this shit serious, though, we just bugging the fuck out\nOne time\nBut y'all can take it how you want it, word\n\nThe bottom line is: I'm a crook with a deal\nIf my record don't sell, I'ma rob and steal\nYou better recognize, nigga, I'm straight from the street\nThese industry niggas is starting to look like something to eat\nI'll snatch Kim, tell Puff, ''You want to see her again?\nDance your ass down to the nearest ATM''\nI have dreams of fucking a R&B bitch\nBut I wake up early and bounce with all her shit\nWhen I apply pressure, son, it ain't even funny\nI'm about to stick Bobby for some of that Whitney money\nBrian McKnight? I can get the nigga anytime\nHave Keith sweating, staring down the barrel on my nine\nSince these Harlem World niggas seem to all be fam\nI put the gun to Cardan, tell him, \"Tell your man\"\nMason Betha, haha\nCome up off that watch now - I mean right now\nThe only excuse for being broke is being in jail\nAn entertainer can't make bail, he broke as hell\nI'd rob O.D.B., but that'd be a waste of time (Yeah)\nProbably have to clap him, run and toss the nine\nI'd follow Fox in the drop for four blocks\nPlotting to jux her for that rock Kurupt copped\nWhat Jigga just sold, like four mil? He got something to live for (Uh-huh)\nDon't want a nigga putting four through that Bentley Coupe door\nI'll manhandle Case like \"Dope, get on the ground\nYou ain't with Mary no more, where you getting chips from now?\"\nI been scheming on Tone and Poke since they found me\nSteve know not to wear that platinum shit around me\nI'm a klepto, nah, for real, son, I'm sick\nI'm 'bout to stick Slick Rick for all that old school shit\nRight now, I'm bent, and when I get like this, I don't think\nAbout to make Stevie J take off that tight-ass mink\nI rob Pun wit out a gun, snatch his piece and run (Uh-huh)\nThis nigga weigh four hundred pounds, how he gon' catch me, son? Huh?\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nThis ain't serious (Uh-uh)\nBeing broke can make you delirious (Word)\nSo we rob and steal so our wallets can be bigger\n50 Cent, how it feel to rob a industry nigga? (Tell 'em, son)\nThis ain't serious (Uh-uh)\nBeing broke can make you delirious (Uh-huh)\nSo we rob and steal so our wallets can be bigger\n50 Cent, how it feel to rob a industry nigga?\n\nI'll catch P and Silkk the Shocker right after the Grammys\nAnd Will Smith and Jada ass down in Miami\nRun up on Timbaland and Missy with the pound\nLike, \"You, give me the cash; you, put the hotdog down\"\nI figured it out, niggas been robbing Joe before (Uh-huh)\nThat's why his ass don't wanna be a player no more\nMy attitude while robbing J.D.? \"Fuck you, pay me!\" (Yeah)\nHad Da Brat with em, should've had his gat with him\nDMX wanna get down?\nWell you tell homie\nI'm on that Treach shit, I do my dirt all by my lonely\nI should rob Clue, man, his shit did well\nI wanna stick TQ, but his shit ain't sell\nI hit the studios, take niggas' jewels and leave (Uh-huh)\nCatch Rae, Ghost, and RZA for them funny-ass rings (What)\nTell Sticky give me the cash before I empty three\nI'll beat your ass like that white boy on MTV\nCanibus wanna battle while I'm sticking him up\nFuck the cab, the coroner's picking 'em up\nHeavy tried to hide his shit, ayy, nigga, I saw you\nHe said, \"Why you robbing me? I got nothing but love for you!\"\nCaught Juvenile for his Cash Money piece\nTold him I want it all; he said, \"Even my gold teeth?\"\nI caught Blackstreet on a back street in a black Jeep\n\"One at a time, get out and take off your shine\"\nDid you ever think that you would be this rich?\nDid you ever think that you would have these hits?\nDid you ever think that I'd flash the nine\nAnd walk off with your shit like it's mines?\nI'ma keep sticking niggas until I'm living\nI'll rob Boyz II Men like I'm Michael Bivins\nCatch Tyson for half that cash like Robin Givens (Yeah)\nI'm hungry for real, I'm about to stick Mister Cee\nThat nigga still eating off Big first LP\nI had Busta and the whole Flipmode on the floor\nHe asked me if I had enough\u2014I told him, \"Gimme some more\"\nIf you feeling this? Then wait for the sequel\nI gotta get Kirk Franklin for robbing God's people, what!\nThis ain't serious (Uh-uh)\nBeing broke can make you delirious (Word)\nSo we rob and steal so our wallets can be bigger\n50 Cent, how it feel to rob a industry nigga? (Tell 'em, son)\nThis ain't serious (Uh-uh)\nBeing broke can make you delirious (Uh-huh)\nSo we rob and steal so our wallets can be bigger\n50 Cent, how it feel to rob a industry nigga?\n\nYo, yo, for real, son, it's The Madd Rapper, you know what I'm saying?\nAnd for real, you know what I'm saying, niggas just got to get stuck up, yo\u2014that's just how it goes down\nIt don't matter if you a industry nigga or a regular nigga or a bitch\nIt really don't matter\u2014if you got it and I need it, I want it\nYou know what I'm saying? That's just how it go down\n50 Cent ain't fucking around\nTrackmasters ain't fucking around\nCrazy Cat ain't fucking around\nThe Madd Rapper ain't fucking around\nYou know what I'm saying?\nSo, watch your backs, watch your pocketbooks, watch your pockets\nWatch everybody on the train, watch everybody on the buses\n'Cause we gonna get you whether you like it or not"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsWhen it Rains it Pours Lyrics\nYeah, it's 50\nOne shot, one kill, what's the deal\nYeah, what's the deal\n\nListen lil' homie, when it rains it pours\nHollow tips and talons, when it rains it pours\nGet caught in lead showers just because\nNiggas ain't playin', when it rains it pours\nNiggas get set up, that's when it rains it pours\nEnd up wet up, that's when it rains it pours\nIt usually, goes down over money and whores\nBut lil' homie in my hood, when it rains it pours\n\nAin't nothin' changed, niggas doin' the same ol' shit\nThem new hollow tips in them same ol' clips\nIn the projects, niggas fuck with the same ol' chicks\nAnd somehow, they still think they game's so sick\nNow from the rip, niggas know I'm 'bout my grip\nI don't trick, man I barely even feed a bitch\nShe say I'm stingy, I say, \"I don't need you bitch\"\nGo 'head leave, see if I chase you, shit!\nTell yo' mammy, I catch her in the streets I'ma get her\nShe know I'm on parole, why she call police on a nigga?\nShe just mad, cause a nigga pockets on swole\nWhen she ask to borrow some, I say, \"Hell naw!\"\nI was tellin' the lil' homies all about this shit\nTo keep yo' mind on yo' money\nAnd don't trust no bitch\nKe Ke hit high notes, when them pigs came\nBut her ass kinda fat, so niggas treat her the same\nThis is real\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nLil' homie, when it rains it pours\nHollow tips and talons, when it rains it pours\nGet caught in lead showers just because\nNiggas ain't playin', when it rains it pours\nNiggas get set up, that's when it rains it pours\nEnd up wet up, that's when it rains it pours\nIt usually, goes down over money and whores\nBut lil' homie in my hood, when it rains it pours\n\nBlood stains on my stoop, when Akbar got shot\nWhen homicide outside, nigga I'm not\nThis the third time them niggas done circled the block\nIt's money down now, yeah, but damn it's hot\nThey'll love to catch a nigga, on a direct sale\nThey say, \"tell us who caught the body, or you goin' to jail\"\nLook, if you know the drill you stay the fuck outta dodge\nAnd say what's happenin' to the captain\nAnd what's up to the sarge\nFuck bein' in a cage man, that shit for the birds\nCharlie drunk, drinkin' wild irish rose on the curb\nI know a spot full of niggas tryin' to bet a few bucks\nHopin' they number come out, they can have 'em some luck\nTwo Ace to the deuce, and stumbled off mad\nLost his re-up money man, that's all he had\nMagazine from the store, so he can look at the cars\nAnd do pull ups in the park, on the monkey bars\nMad as fuck\nLil' homie, when it rains it pours\nHollow tips and talons, when it rains it pours\nGet caught in lead showers just because\nNiggas ain't playin', when it rains it pours\nNiggas get set up, that's when it rains it pours\nEnd up wet up, that's when it rains it pours\nIt usually, goes down over money and whores\nBut lil' homie in my hood, when it rains it pours\n(Gun shots, police sirens and helicopters going off\nWhile it thunders and rains)"}
{"text":"I need you to pray for me and\nI need you to care for me and\nI need you to want me to win\nI need to know where I'm heading, 'cause I know where I've been\nThe flow is bone crushing, it's nothing, I come up with something\nCome through your strip frontin', stuntin', it's something you want\n745, chrome spinners, haters hate that I'm winning\nMan, I've been hot from the beginning\nMotherfuckers envy the kid, control your jealousy\n'Cause I can't control my temper, I'm finna catch a felony\nPistol in hand, homie, I'm down to get it poppin'\nOnce I squeeze the first shot, you know I ain't stoppin'\n'Til my clip is empty, I'm simply\nNot that nigga you should try your luck with or fuck with\nHollow tip shells struck you with your bones broken, guns smoking, still locing\nWhat, nigga? Lay your ass down, paramedics get you up feeling\n\nRight now I'm on the edge, so don't push me\nI aim straight for your head, so don't push me\nFill your ass up with lead, so don't push me\nI got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy\nRight now I'm on the edge, so don't push me\nI aim straight for your head, so don't push me\nFill your ass up with lead, so don't push me\nI got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI done lost my bigger nigga and I didn't cry\nToo young to understand the consequences of a man living a lie\nI gotta get that money, I'll be damned if I'm bummy\nGotta watch my back around these niggas 'cause they funny\nTwenty years of watching my mama tears got me heated, heavily weeded\nSmoking that bong 'cause I need it\nThese niggas don't want me balling, they want me buried\nBogged in the dirt from shots flurried\nLaying with bugs under my shirt\nI got plans to hop up in that Hummer, 'cause I'm a stunner\nI sit back and wonder when them angels gon' call my number\nUnder my chest is a heart of a lion, I ain't lyin'\nBounty hunters got me flying with my iron, high as a giant\nI'm running from nothing, my stomach is touching what I'm clutching\nTo give you more than a concussion, end of discussion\nMy blood is colder so I'm bolder, Hennessy and soda\nHood on my shoulder, look in the mirror, I see a soldier\n\nRight now I'm on the edge, so don't push me\nI aim straight for your head, so don't push me\nFill your ass up with lead, so don't push me\nI got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy\nRight now I'm on the edge, so don't push me\nI aim straight for your head, so don't push me\nFill your ass up with lead, so don't push me\nI got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy (Em, drop that shit, c'mon)\nThese are my ideas, this is my sweat and tears\nThis is shit that I saw with my eyeballs, my ears (What else?)\nThis is me, who's gotta be what you see on TV\nWhat you hear on CD, what appears easy (What else?)\nMan these teenie boppers see me on these magazine covers\nIn these beanies and these rags living fantasies, frontin' (C'mon)\nLike it's all fun and games 'til they shoot 'em up bang\nAnd you see your brains hang and you see we ain't playing\nAin't saying we ain't laying down at night and ain't praying\nI bullied my way in this game, man, I'm done playing\nMan, I'm done saying that I'm done playing\nI'ma start laying into these motherfucking cocksuckers (C'mon)\nThere's no way I'ma back down like a goddamn coward, I can't\nHow would I look as a man bowing to his knees?\nLike the mad cow disease, let somebody lash out at me\nAnd not lash back out at 'em, please\nOh, woah, yo, ho\nHold up, oh no, not me, not Marshall\nYou wanna see Marshall? I'll show you martial\nI try to show you art, but you just pick it apart\nSo I see I have to start showing you fucking old farts\nA whole 'nother side I wanted to not show you (C'mon)\nSo you know you're not dealing with some fucking marshmallow\nLittle soft yellow, punk pussy, whose heart's Jell-O 'cause\nRight now I'm on the edge, so don't push me\nI aim straight for your head, so don't push me\nFill your ass up with lead, so don't push me\nI got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy\nRight now I'm on the edge, so don't push me\nI aim straight for your head, so don't push me\nFill your ass up with lead, so don't push me\nI got something for your ass, keep thinking I'm pussy\n\nShady, Aftermath, nigga, G-Unit\nRap juggernauts of this shit, we taking over"}
{"text":"89 ContributorsHigh All The Time Lyrics\nHey, you wanna hit this shit?\nIt's that green tongue, Cali bud\n\nI don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris'\nTanqueray or Aliz\u00e9, I don't need shit\nNigga, I'm high all the time (I smoke that good shit)\nI stay high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)\nGive me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate\nGive me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit\nAnd stay high all the time (I smoke that good shit)\nI'm high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)\n\nEvery time I roll up, niggas holler, \"Roll up\"\nThen I tell 'em hold up, you ain't getting money\nYou ain't smoking in my Benzo, twenty inch Lorenzos\nSmoking on indo, high as a motherfucker\nI be on them backstreets, niggas know I clap heat\nOnly if you got beef, man, you better holler at me\nNiggas get locked up, stabbed up, shot up\nEvery time I pop up, a lot going on in my hood\nI shoot the dice, I holler get 'em, girls, daddy need new shoes\nDaddy need Pirellis to look mean on 22's (Yeah)\nStash box, Xbox, laptop, fax machine, phone\nBulletproof this bitch and I'm gone\n2003 Suburban swerving, too many sips of Henny (Yeah)\nThe D's sick, they searched the whip and they can't find the semis (Woo)\nThey was just harassing me 'cause they know who I was\nSpent the night in Central Booking for smoking some bud\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris'\nTanqueray or Aliz\u00e9, I don't need shit\nNigga, I'm high all the time (I smoke that good shit)\nI stay high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)\nGive me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate\nGive me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit\nAnd stay high all the time (I smoke that good shit)\nI'm high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)\n\nNow if you heard I done started some shit\nIt ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high)\nAnd if you heard I done let off a clip\nIt ain't because I be high (I be high, I be high)\nBut I twist that lye, lye-lye-lye\n\nI get high as I wanna, nigga\nGo against me, for sure, you's a goner, nigga\nI don't smoke to calm my nerves, but I got beef\nFinna crush my enemies like I crush the hashish\nIf you love me, tell me you love me, don't stare at me, man\nI'd hate to be in the pen for clapping one of my fans\nNow let me show you how to greet me\nWhen you meet me, when you see me\nIf you real, my nigga, you know how to holler, \"G-Unit\"\nThere's no competition, it's just me\n50 Cent, motherfucker, I'm hot on these streets\nIf David could go against Goliath with a stone\nI could go at Nas and Jigga both for the throne\nI don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris'\nTanqueray or Aliz\u00e9, I don't need shit\nNigga, I'm high all the time (I smoke that good shit)\nI stay high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)\nGive me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate\nGive me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit\nAnd stay high all the time (I smoke that good shit)\nI'm high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)\n\nNow, who you know besides me who write lines and squeeze nines\nAnd have hoes in the hood sniffing on white lines?\nYou don't want me to be your kid's role model\nI'll teach 'em how to buck them .380s and load up them hollows\nHave shorty fresh off the stoop, ready to shoot\nBig blunt in his mouth, deuce-deuce in his boot\nSit in the crib sipping Guinness watching Menace, then oh Lord\nHave a young nigga bucking shit like he O-Dog (Woo)\nMy team, they depend on me when it's crunch time\nI eat a nigga food in broad day like it's lunchtime\nYou feeling brave, nigga? Go 'head, get gully\nSee if I won't leave your brains leaking up out your skully\nI done made myself hot, so ain't shit you can tell me\nNow niggas calling me to feature, man, fuck your money\nI ain't hurting, I'm aight, nigga, I'm doing good\nI ain't got to write rhymes, I got bricks in the hood\nI don't need Dom Perignon, I don't need Cris'\nTanqueray or Aliz\u00e9, I don't need shit\nNigga, I'm high all the time (I smoke that good shit)\nI stay high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)\nGive me some dro, purple haze and some chocolate\nGive me a dutch and a lighter, I'll spark shit\nAnd stay high all the time (I smoke that good shit)\nI'm high all the time (Man, I'm on some hood shit)\n\nG-Unit, are you ready?\nG-Unit, are you ready?\nG-Unit, are you ready?\nNigga, ready or not, here I come, come, come"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsYour Life\u2019s On The Line Lyrics\nNobody likes me\nNobody likes me, but that's okay\n'Cause I don't like y'all anyway\nMan, I don't like y'all anyway\nFuck all y'all\nI let my watch talk for me, my whip talk for me\nMy gat talk for me, baow, what up, homie?\nThem bitches who don't know me, they wanna blow me\n'Cause the shit I floss with be saying a lot for me\n\nI came in the rap humble, I don't give a fuck now\nI'll serve anybody like niggas who hustle uptown (Uh-huh, uh-huh)\nCoke price go up, capsules come down\nThe D's run in my crib, I'm nowhere to be found\nNiggas who hustle for me, they don't even stash tracks\nThey keep 'em on 'em, right there in they ass crack (Yeah)\nWhen I don't like a nigga, I don't pretend to\nI'll have the paramedics wrapping your fucking head like a Hindu\nLook, I ain't going nowhere, so get used to me\nOGs look at me and see I'm what they used to be\nI'm that nigga that sold coke, the nigga that sold dope\nThe nigga that shot dice, went broke, then sold soap\nThe thug that pop shit, the thug that pop clips\nThe thug that went from three and a half to a whole brick\nNigga ain't in his right mind going against me\nMy pictures painted through words, I make a blind man see (Woo)\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nScream, \"Murda,\" I don't believe you\n\"Murda,\" fuck around and leave you\n\"Murda,\" I don't believe you\n\"Murda, murda,\" your life's on the line\n\nY'all niggas don't want no parts of me\nYou tryna figure out how y'all started me\nYou gon' make me catch you on a late night\nPop shots with the fifth, then slide off in the six\n\nI'm not a marksman while sparking, so I spray random\nNot a pretty nigga, but my moms think I'm handsome\nI hate to hear he say, she say shit\nUnless he say she said she on my dick\nIt's no coincidence niggas who fuck with me get shot up (Blatt)\nI do it Cali style, drive by and tear your block up\nYou soft, duke, you putting up a crazy front\nI stay with the MAC 'cause niggas tried to blaze me once\nIn the hood, they like, \"Damn, 50 really spit it on 'em\"\n\"You heard that shit?\" \"Yeah, 50 really shitted on 'em\"\nBeef, you don't want none, so don't start none\nYou're just a small player in this game, play your part, son\nScream, \"Murda,\" I don't believe you\n\"Murda,\" fuck around and leave you\n\"Murda,\" I don't believe you\n\"Murda, murda,\" your life's on the line\n\nThese cats always escape reality when they rhyme (Uh-huh, uh-huh)\nThat's why they write about bricks and only dealt with dimes (Yeah)\nLeave it to them, and they say they got a fast car\nNASCAR, truck with a crash bar\nAnd TVs in the dash, pa\nSee 'em in the five with stock rims (Hahaha), I just laugh, pa\nI catch stunts when I ain't trying, I ain't lying\nI sip Dom P 'til I spit up, keep my wrist lit up\nGet outta line, I get you hit up (Woo)\nNow if you say my name in your rhyme, you better watch what you say\nYou get carried away, you could get shot and carried away\nNow here's a list of MCs that could kill you in eight bars\n50, um, JAY-Z and Nas\nI'ma say this shit now and never again\nWe ain't buddies, we ain't partners, and we damn sure ain't friends\nThe games you playing, you get killed like that\nActing like you all hard, you ain't built like that\nSee me when you see me, nigga, what?\nScream, \"Murda,\" I don't believe you\n\"Murda,\" fuck around and leave you\n\"Murda,\" I don't believe you\n\"Murda, murda,\" your life's on the line\n\nY'all niggas don't want no parts of me\nYou tryna figure out how y'all started me\nYou gon' make me catch you on a late night\nPop shots with the fifth, then slide off in the six"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsAyo Technology Lyrics\nSomethin' special\nUnforgettable\n50 Cent (Cent)\nJustin ('tin)\nTimbaland ('land)\nGoddamn, damn\n\nShe, she, she want it, I wanna give it to her\nShe know that it's right here for her\nI wanna see her break it down (Yeah)\nI'm ballin', throwing money 'round\n\nShe a working girl, she work the pole\nShe break it down, she take it low\nShe fine as hell, she 'bout the dough\nShe doing her thing out on the floor\nHer money-money, she make it, make it\nLook at the way she shake it, shake it\nMake you wanna touch it, make you wanna taste it\nHave you lusting for it, going crazy, face it\nNow don't stop, get it, get it\nThe way she shake it make you wanna hit it\nThink she double-jointed from the way she split it\nGot your head fucked up from the way she did it\nShe so much more than you used to\nShe know just how to move to seduce you\nShe gon' do the right thing and touch the right spots\nAnd dance in your lap 'til you ready to pop\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nShe always ready, when you want it, she want it\nLike a nympho, the info, I'll show you where to meet her\nOn the late night, 'til daylight, the club jumping\nIf you want a good time, she gon' give you what you want\nLet me talk to you\n\nBaby, you're so new-age, you're like my new craze\nLet's get together, maybe we can start a new phase\nThis smoke's got the club all hazy\nSpotlights don't do you justice, baby\nWhy don't you come over here?\n\nYou got me saying, \"Ayo!\" I'm tired of using technology\nWhy don't you sit down on top of me?\nAyo! I'm tired of using technology\nI need you right in front of me\nOoh, she wants it, ugh, ugh, she wants it\nOoh, she wants it (So) I gotta give it to her\nOoh, she wants it, ugh, ugh, she wants it\nOoh, she wants it (So) I gotta give it to her\n\nYour hips, your thighs, they got me hypnotized\nLet me tell you\nYour hips, your thighs, they got me hypnotized\nLet me tell you\nYour hips, your thighs, they got me hypnotized\nLet me tell you\nYour hips, your thighs, they got me hypnotized\nLet me tell you, girl\nGot a thing for that thing she got\nThe way she make it tick, the way she make it pop\nI make it rain for her so she don't stop\nI ain't got to move, I can sit and watch\nIn the fantasy, it's plain to see\nJust how it be, her and me\nBackstroking, sweat soaking all into my satin sheets\nWhen she ready to ride, I'm ready to roll\nI'll be in this bitch 'til the club close\nWatching her do her thing on all fours\nNow that\u2014that there should be 'gainst the law\n\nFrom side to side, left to right, break it down, down, down\nKnow I like when you're hype and you throw it all around\nDifferent style, different mood, damn, I like the way you move\nGirl, you got me thinking 'bout all the things I'll do to you\nLet's get it poppin', shawty, we could switch positions\nFrom the couch to the counters in my kitchen\nLet me talk to you\n\nBaby, you're so new-age, you're like my new craze\nLet's get together, maybe we can start a new phase\nThis smoke's got the club all hazy\nSpotlights don't do you justice, baby\nWhy don't you come over here?\nYou got me saying, \"Ayo!\" I'm tired of using technology\nWhy don't you sit down on top of me?\nAyo! I'm tired of using technology\nI need you right in front of me\nOoh, she wants it, ugh, ugh, she wants it\nOoh, she wants it (So) I gotta give it to her\nOoh, she wants it, ugh, ugh, she wants it\nOoh, she wants it (So) I gotta give it to her\n\nYour hips, your thighs, they got me hypnotized\nLet me tell you\nYour hips, your thighs, they got me hypnotized\nLet me tell you\nYour hips, your thighs, they got me hypnotized\nLet me tell you\nYour hips, your thighs, they got me hypnotized\nLet me tell you, girl"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsNo Romeo No Juliet Lyrics\nAyo\n\nQuit Captain Savin', serenadin' them hoes\nShe no Juliet for no Romeo with no dough\nShe report to pimpin', now back to trickin'\nShe report to pimpin', nigga, back to trickin'\n\nHey, ho, get back to twerkin', back to workin' (Yeah)\nGet back to strippin', they back to tippin' (Woo!)\nThem stacks is fallin', they back to ballin' (Come on)\nThem bottles poppin', bitch, the mall is callin' us\nQuit fuckin' around, not playin' around, bitch, shit is for real (For real)\nQuick makin' a stack, bag make us a mill, I mean, get us a deal (Come on)\nBitch, fix us a meal, tell me how does it feel?\nOn the social network when they say a nigga really ain't got no chill\n\nHe think he fuckin' my bitch, nigga, that bitch for rent\nHe know how to treat a ho, I mean all that money spent\nShe says you a sweetheart, a sweetheart\nThings tend to go a little different 'round here\nWe pimpin', nigga\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nQuit Captain Savin', serenadin' them hoes\nShe no Juliet for no Romeo with no dough\nShe report to pimpin', now back to trickin'\nShe report to pimpin', nigga, back to trickin' (Ayo)\nQuit Captain Savin', serenadin' them hoes (Oh)\nShe no Juliet for no Romeo with no dough (Ooh, ooh)\nShe report to pimpin', now back to trickin' (Yeah)\nShe report to pimpin', nigga, back to trickin'\nWe pimpin', nigga\n\nP.I.M.P., who the shotta dem?\nI'm the girl dem sugar, watch 'em follow him\nHave the homies come through, 500, that be the block (Fruits)\nTag yo' shit, we goin' up on the Instagram\nHigher than a ceilin' fan\nI'm whippin' bricks in the kitchen\nI'm flyin' shit out the window like I was Peter Pan\nI handle my own shit, I own shit\nAlone shit, middle finger to the middleman\nAnybody that can get it when they want it\nFinger fuckin' bitches, she gon' tell me when she cummin'\n50 in this bitch and I ain't askin' him for nothin'\nThat's my OG, if a nigga trippin', get to bustin'\nMo' money mean mo' problems\nIf your nigga got the money, we gon' rob him\nBoy, I'm simply, a P.I.M.P\nAnd I'ma let it go 'til the clip on empty (Wow!)\nHe think he fuckin' my bitch, nigga, that bitch for rent\nHe know how to treat a ho, I mean all that money spent\nShe says you a sweetheart, a sweetheart\nThings tend to go a little different 'round here\nWe pimpin', nigga\n\nI'm gettin' big money, startin' to get hard to keep a nigga from hatin' (Yeah)\nI'm with a white bitch, nigga, Google this shit, we interracial datin' (Haha)\nThis is a new wave, I'm a new Wraith, a nigga sit on suede (Come on)\nLike I'm Special Ed, but I ain't Special Ed, bitch, I got it made (Ow!)\nWe here to make the paper, hope you niggas on the same page (Yeah)\nYou know boy in the hood'll have you runnin' like Ricky from the twelve gauge\nYou know my bottom bitch, I done told her how to break a nigga twelve ways\nA few tricks a day, that there keep the bill collectors away\nYou hear my name on the street, it's circulatin', you heard I'm cakin' (Mm)\nYou niggas tryna compete, perpetratin', what's percolatin'? (Yeah)\nI got game for days, ask around, they'll tell you I put it down\nSo a ho feels like I'm right next to her when a nigga 'way out town\n\nHe think he fuckin' my bitch, nigga, that bitch for rent\nHe know how to treat a ho, I mean all that money spent\nShe says you a sweetheart, a sweetheart\nThings tend to go a little different 'round here\nWe pimpin', nigga\nQuit Captain Savin', serenadin' them hoes\nShe no Juliet for no Romeo with no dough\nShe report to pimpin', now back to trickin'\nShe report to pimpin', nigga, back to trickin' (Ayo)\nQuit Captain Savin', serenadin' them hoes (Oh)\nShe no Juliet for no Romeo with no dough (Ooh, ooh)\nShe report to pimpin', now back to trickin' (Yeah)\nShe report to pimpin', nigga, back to trickin'\nWe pimpin', nigga"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsTranslations50 Cent - U Not Like Me (Traduzione Italiana)U Not Like Me Lyrics\nNYPD, LAPD, NYPD (When it's on that's who you get, huh?)\nNYPD, LAPD, NYPD (That's your motherfucking clique, huh?)\nNYPD, LAPD, NYPD (You a motherfucking snitch, huh?)\nNYPD, LAPD, NYPD\n\nNiggas wanna shine like me (Me), rhyme like me (Me)\nThey don't walk around with a .9 like me (Me)\nThey don't want to do it three-to-nine like me\nAnd ain't strong enough to take nine like me\nAyo, you think about shittin' on 50, save it\nMy songs belong in the Bible with King David's\nI teach niggas sign language that ain't deaf, son\n(*Click-clack*) You heard that? That mean run\nAsk around, I ain't the one you wanna stunt on, pa\nPull through, I throw a fucking cocktail at your car\nFrom the last shootout I got a dimple on my face\nIt's nothing, I can go after Ma$e fan base\nA shell hit my jaw, I ain't wait for doc to get it out\nHit my wisdom tooth, I (Huck-too) spit it out\nI don't smile a lot 'cause ain't nothin' pretty\nGot a purple heart for war and I ain't never left the city\nHoes be like \"50, you so witty\"\nOn the dick like they heard I ghostwrite for P. Diddy\nYou got fat while we starved, it's my turn\nI done felt how the shells burn, I still won't learn, won't learn\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nIf you get shot and run to the cops, you not like me\nYou ain't got no work on the block, you not like me\nIt's hot and you ain't got no drop, you not like me\nLike me, dude, you not like me\nIf you get shot and run to the cops, you not like me\nYou ain't got no work on the block, you not like me\nIt's hot and you ain't got no drop, you not like me\nLike me, dude, you not like me\n\nMama said everything that happened to us was part of God's plan\nSo at night, when I talk to him, I got my gun in my hand\nDon't think I'm crazy 'cause I don't fear man\n'Cause I fear when I kill a man God won't understand\nI got a head full of evil thoughts, am I Satan?\nI been could've killed these niggas, I'm still waitin'\nIn the telly with two whores, Benz with two doors\nThirty-two karats in the cross, no flaws (Woo)\nYou see me in the hood, I got at least two guns\nI carry the Glock, Tony carry my M-1\nHold me down, nigga, OGs tryin' to rock me (Uh-huh)\nDs waiting for my response to lock me (Yeah)\nThis is my hustle, nigga, don't knock me\nYou need some shit with a banana clip to try and stop me, I'm the one\nIf you get shot and run to the cops, you not like me\nYou ain't got no work on the block, you not like me\nIt's hot and you ain't got no drop, you not like me\nLike me, dude, you not like me\nIf you get shot and run to the cops, you not like me\nYou ain't got no work on the block, you not like me\nIt's hot and you ain't got no drop, you not like me\nLike me, dude, you not like me\n\nSee, I done been to the pearly gates, they sent me back\nGood die young, I ain't eligible for that\nI shot niggas, I been shot, sold crack in the street\nMy attitude is gangsta, so I stay in some beef\nYou wanna get acquainted with me? You wanna know me?\nFrom three-point range with a Glock, I shoot better than Kobe\nSee a nigga standing next to me, he probably my co-D\nSee a bitch gettin' in my whip, she probably gon' blow me\nSee the flow is like a .38, it's special, y'all\nA country boy tell ya I'm finna blow\nI'm more like a pimp than a trick, you know\nYou see, I'm in this for the paper, I don't love the hoes\nNiggas broke in the hood worryin' about mines\nGrown-ass men wearing starter kit shines\nYou know them little pieces with the little stones\nGot little clientele fiends call your cell phone\nWhen the gossipin' start, I'm always the topic\nYou too old for that shit, dawg, won't you stop it?\nShorty, I've been watching you watching me\nNow you tell me what you like more, my watch or me? Haha\nIf you get shot and run to the cops, you not like me\nYou ain't got no work on the block, you not like me\nIt's hot and you ain't got no drop, you not like me\nLike me, dude, you not like me\nIf you get shot and run to the cops, you not like me\nYou ain't got no work on the block, you not like me\nIt's hot and you ain't got no drop, you not like me\nLike me, dude, you not like me\n\nUh-uh, uh-uh, not like me\nUh-uh, uh-uh (Uh-uh)\nWe ain't got nothin' in common (Uh-uh, uh-uh, you not like me)\nHahahaha\nUh-uh, uh-uh\nUh-uh, uh-uh, you not like me"}
{"text":"50 ContributorsI\u2019ll Whip Ya Head Boy Lyrics\nI'll whip your head, boy, you know I will\nI'll whip your head, boy, with the back of the steel\nI'll whip your head, boy, your cap could get peeled\nI'll whip your head, boy, your ass could get killed\nI'll whip your head, boy, you know I will\nI'll whip your head, boy, with the back of the steel\nI'll whip your head, boy, your cap could get peeled\nI'll whip your head, boy, your ass could get killed\n\nTwo niggas in the front, two niggas in the back\nThats four niggas ridin' strapped in grandpa's Cadillac\nThe voice in my head say, \"Fuck all these niggas\"\nThen I start thinkin', 'I should rob all these niggas'\nMan, my homies then wan' do whatever I wan' do\nI say I wan' eat they say shit we wan' eat too\nLet's ride around find a nigga stuntin' on front street\nWith the shine's on niggas be lookin' like lunch meat\nI run up on a nigga, pop one on the floor\nTell um come up off that shit 'fore we start poppin' some more\nFuck a ski mask, man, niggas know who I is\nI got a full clip and niggas know I get biz\n\nI'll whip your head, boy, you know I will\nI'll whip your head, boy, with the back of the steel\nI'll whip your head, boy, your cap could get peeled\nI'll whip your head, boy, your ass could get killed\nI'll whip your head, boy, you know I will\nI'll whip your head, boy, with the back of the steel\nI'll whip your head, boy, your cap could get peeled\nI'll whip your head, boy, your ass could get killed\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI'm up early in the mornin', tryna make a move\nWe come in here with me shorty take your lil' one to school\nEven though she cause the drama, you love your baby momma\nI hit her with the llama to get this cake\nGive us the coke, the cash, the combo to the safe\nOh, she don't know it? Damn, okay, we'll wait\nI play with your kid on the couch, while your bitch on the phone\nWith a gun to her head sayin' \"daddy come home\"\nYou was rollin' poppin' bubbly, didn't think it get ugly\nIn the hood shit is lovely until it go bad\nNow you can pray for a miracle and God might be hearin' you\nAnd the nine will jam right in my hand\n\nI'll whip your head, boy, you know I will\nI'll whip your head, boy, with the back of the steel\nI'll whip your head, boy, your cap could get peeled\nI'll whip your head, boy, your ass could get killed\nI'll whip your head, boy, you know I will\nI'll whip your head, boy, with the back of the steel\nI'll whip your head, boy, your cap could get peeled\nI'll whip your head, boy, your ass could get killed\n\nI got his homies screamin' Buck you need to calm down\nNiggas be gettin' killed everytime you come around\nWe ran up in his crib, made his momma kiss the ground\nShe askin' \"God, what my baby done did now?\"\nI'm takin' everything, jewellery I want it all\nDuct tape him up, rip the phone cords out the wall (Gimme that)\nFuck waitin' we gon' starve waitin' on tomorrow\nSo ask Satan if he got a car that I can borrow\nI'm impatient like a money hungry rap star\nI jack him for his chain and I can get a new Jaguar\nThe mack'lI have his brains all over the fuckin' sidewalk\nAnd I'ma be on CNN again, it ain't my fault\nMarch nigga step, right nigga left\nG-Unit soldier, I'm thuggin' 'til my death\nI'll whip your head, boy, you know I will\nI'll whip your head, boy, with the back of the steel\nI'll whip your head, boy, your cap could get peeled\nI'll whip your head, boy, your ass could get killed\nI'll whip your head, boy, you know I will\nI'll whip your head, boy, with the back of the steel\nI'll whip your head, boy, your cap could get peeled\nI'll whip your head, boy, your ass could get killed"}
{"text":"43 ContributorsP.I.M.P. Remix Lyrics\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar outta me\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar outta me\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\n\nNow, shorty, she in the club, she dancing for dollars\nShe got a thing for that Gucci, that Fendi, that Prada\nThat BCBG, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana\nShe's feeding fools fantasies, they pay her, 'cause they want her\nI spit a little G man and my game got her\nA hour later have that ass up in the Ramada\nThem trick niggas in her ear saying they think about her\nI got the bitch by the bar, trying to get a drink up out her\nShe like my style, she like my smile, she like the way I talk\nShe from the country; think she like me cause I'm from New York?\nI ain't that nigga trying to holla cause I want some head\nI'm that nigga trying to holla cause I want some bread\nI could care less how she perform when she in the bed\nBitch: hit the track, catch a date, and come pay the kid\nLook, baby, this is simple, you can't see?\nYou fuckin' with me - you fuckin' with a P-I-M-P\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar outta me\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\n\nG-G-G-G-G, G-mix!\n\nF-I-F-T-Y C-E-N-T and S-N double O-P\nDoggy style in your mouth for the 2003\nAnd y'all know I'm from the DPG\nF-I-F-T-Y C-E-N-T and S-N double O-P\nWe internationally known and locally respected\n(And you know you're just a P.I.M.P!)\nNow what you know about me?\n\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm, 'cause I'm a G\nAnd I'm a muthafuckin' C-R-I-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a chrome up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm, an' I'm a G\nAnd I'm a muthafuckin' P-I-M-P\nYeah, bitch, I got my Now and Later gators on\nI'm 'bout to show you how my pimp hand is way strong\nYour dead wrong if you think that pimpin' gonna die\n12-piece with a hundred hoes by my side\nI'm down with that nigga, 50, like I'm down with blue\n'Fuck cuzz', nah, nigga, motherfuck you\nG-U-N-I-Tizzy, fuckin' with me and the D-P-Gizzy\nNiggas in New York know how Doggy get down\nI got my niggas in Queens, I got my bitches Uptown\nI got my bu'ness in Manhattan, I ain't fuckin' around\nI got some butter pecan Puerto Ricans from the Boogie Down (Down)\nThat's waiting on me to return\nSo they can snatch these braids out and put my shit in a perm, word (Word)\nThey love it when I get to crippin'\nAnd spittin' this maga-agnficent pimpin'\n\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm, an' I'm a G\n'Cause I'm a muthafuckin' C-R-I-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a chrome up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm, 'cause I'm a G\nAn' I'm a muthafuckin' P-I-M-P\nYou need to switch over and ride with a star\nIt'll get you far\nI'm a P-I-M-P G-A-N-G-S-T-E-R\nYeah, I'm young, but I ain't dumb\nGot some tricks, but I ain't one\nI'm a guerrilla for scrilla, I trip you, you try to run\nI let 'em do as they please, as long as they get my cheese\nEven if they gotta freeze, or if it's a hundred degrees\nI keep 'em on they knees, take a look under my sleeve\nI ain't gotta give 'em much, they're happy with Mickey D's, pimp\n\nWe keep it pimpin' in the South, you know how it go (Dirty, dirty!)\nWe drive old-school, white walls with mink floors\nI spin the G-Unit piece, and get 'em dizzy\nHandcuff her if you love her or your girl coming with me\nWhen your neck and wrist glow, she already should know\nThat money make the world go round, so lets get mo'\nIt's time to show these playas how it should be done\nYou got pimp potential, you might\/could be one, G-U-nit!\n\nI don't know what you heard about me (Yeah!)\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar outta me (Woo!)\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see (Uh-huh)\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\nI don't know what you heard about me (Uh-huh)\nBut a bitch can't get a dollar outta me (Yeah!)\nNo Cadillac, no perms, you can't see\nThat I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P (Yeah)\n\nIn Hollywood they say: \"there's no bu'ness, like show bu'ness\"\nIn the hood they say: \"there's no bu'ness, like hoe bu'ness\", you know\nThey say I talk a li'l fast, but if you listen a li'l faster\nI ain't got to slow down for you to catch up, bitch!\nHa-ha, ha\nYeah"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsPiggy Bank Lyrics\n\nClickity-clank, clickity-clank\nThe money goes into my piggy bank\nClickity-clank, clickity-clank\nThe money goes into my piggy bank\n\nMan, I\u2019ll get at you! My knife cuts your skin\nI\u2019ll get at you! Blow shots at your man\nI\u2019ll get at you! 2Pac don\u2019t pretend\nI\u2019ll get at you! I\u2019ll put that to an end\n\nThat damn shit is old, don\u2019t be screamin\u2019 \u201cGet At Me Dog\u201d,\nHave you runnin\u2019 for your life when I match ya part\nI get to wavin\u2019 that semi like it\u2019s legal\nA lil\u2019 nigga hurt his arm, lettin\u2019 off that Eagle, you know me\nBlack on black Bentley, big ol\u2019 black nine\nI\u2019ll clap your monkey-ass, yeah black on black crime\nBig ol\u2019 chrome rims gleam, you know how I shine\nC\u2019mon on man, you know how I shine\nI\u2019m in the hood, in the drop, Teflon vinyl top\nGot a 100 guns, a 100 clips, why I don\u2019t hear no shots?,\nThat fat nigga thought \u201cLean Back\u201d was \u201cIn da Club\u201d\nMy shit sold eleven mill\u2019, his shit was a dud,\nJada don\u2019t fuck with me, if you wanna eat\nCause I\u2019ll do yo\u2019 little ass like Jay did Mobb Deep,\nYeah homey in New York niggas like your vocals\nBut that\u2019s only New York dawg, yo\u2019 ass is local\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nClickity-clank, clickity-clank\nThe money goes into my piggy bank\nClickity-clank, clickity-clank\nThe money goes into my piggy bank\n\nYeah, yeah-yeah! Get more money, more money\nYeah, yeah-yeah! Get more money, more money\nYeah, yeah-yeah! Get more money, more money\nYeah, yeah-yeah! Get more money, more money\n\nBanks\u2019 shit, sells; Buck\u2019s shit, sells\nGame\u2019s shit, sells; I\u2019m rich as hell\nShyne poppin\u2019 off his mouth from a cell\nHe don\u2019t want it with me, he in PC\nI could have a nigga run up on him with a shank\nFor just a few pennies out my piggy bank,\nYayo bring the condoms, I\u2019m in Room 203\nFreak bitch look like Kim before the surgery\nIt\u2019s an emergency, for Michael Jackson see\nYour picture and says she looks like me,,\nKelis said her milkshake bring all the boys to the yard then Nas went\nAnd tattooed the bitch on his arm\nI mean like way out in Cali niggas know you cuzz\nFirst thing they say about you is you\u2019s a sucker for love,,\nThis is chess not checkers, these are warning shots\nAfter your next move I\u2019ll give you what I got,\nClickity-clank, clickity-clank\nThe money goes into my piggy bank\nClickity-clank, clickity-clank\nThe money goes into my piggy bank\n\nYeah, yeah-yeah! Get more money, more money\nYeah, yeah-yeah! Get more money, more money\nYeah, yeah-yeah! Get more money, more money\nYeah, yeah-yeah! Get more money, more money\n\nWhen I get at you, I\u2019ll punch out your grill\nI\u2019ll get at you! Let off that blue steel\nI\u2019ll get at you! Nigga, I\u2019m for real\nI\u2019ll get at you! Could get yo\u2019 ass killed\n\nYeah\nYeahhhhhh\nHahahaha\nYa\u2019ll niggas gotta do somethin' now man\nAll the shoot \u2018em up shit ya\u2019ll be talkin\u2019\nYou gotta do somethin' baby\nI mean, I mean c'mon man everybody\u2019s listenin'\nNigga everybody\u2019s listenin'\nHahahahahahaha\nI know you ain\u2019t gon' just let 50 do you like that\nI mean damn rep your hood nigga\nNigga, you hard right?\nPop off\nYayo give my orders to them niggas on the phone tell them niggas I said grip up\nNiggas got a green light on these monkeys\nHahahaha"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsI Get Money Lyrics\n\nI get money\nI\u2014 I get money\nI\u2014 I get\u2014 I get\u2014 (Fifty!)\nI get\u2014 I get\u2014\n\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (Yeah)\nMoney\u2014 Money, I got; money\u2014 money, I got (I run New York!)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (Yeah, yeah)\nMoney\u2014 Money, I got; money\u2014 money, I got (I run New York!)\n\nI took quarter waters, sold it in bottles for two bucks\nThen, Coca-Cola came and bought it for billions\u2014what the fuck?\nHave a baby by me, baby\u2014be a millionaire\nI write the check before the baby comes\u2014who the fuck cares? (Ow!)\nI'm stanky-rich, I'ma die tryna spend this shit\nSouthside's up in this bitch\nYeah, I smell like the vault, I used to sell dope\nI did play the block, now I play on boats (Yeah)\nIn the south of France, baby, Saint-Tropez\nGet a tan, I'm already Black; rich, I'm already that\nGangsta, get a gat, hit a head in a hat\nCall that a riddle, rat, shit, fuck the chitter-chat (Ooh, ooh!)\nI'm the baker, I bake the bread; the barber, I cut your head\nThe marksman, I spray the lead, I bloodclaat-chop your leg\nDo not fuck with the kid\nI get biz with the Sig, I come where you live\u2014you dig? (Oh!)\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (Yeah)\nMoney\u2014 Money, I got; money\u2014 money, I got (I run New York!)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (Yeah, yeah)\nMoney\u2014 Money, I got; money\u2014 money, I got (I run New York!)\n\nYou can call this my new shit, but it ain't new, though\nI got rid of my old bitch; now, I got new hoes (Woo!)\nFirst, it was the Benzo; now, I'm in the Enzo\nFerrari\u2014I'm sorry, I keep blowing up (Oh!)\nThey call me the cake man, the strawberry-shake man\nI spray the AR, make your whole clique breakdance (Yeah)\nBackspin, head-spin, flatline, you're dead, then\nNine shells, Mac-10\u2014who wan' get it cracking?\nI was young, I couldn't do good; now, I can't do bad\nI ride, wreck the new Jag? I just buy the new Jag\nNow, nigga, why you mad?\nOh, you can't do that? I'm so forgetful\nThey calling me cocky\nI come up out the jeweler, they calling me Rocky\nIt's the ice on my neck, man, the wrist and my left hand\nBling like \"Blaow!, you like my style\nHa, ha! I'm heading to the bank right now\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (Yeah)\nMoney\u2014 Money, I got; money\u2014 money, I got (I run New York!)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I, I get it)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (Yeah, yeah)\nMoney\u2014 Money, I got; money\u2014 money, I got (I run New York!)\n\nYeah, I talk the talk, and I walk the walk\nLike a Teflon Don, boy, I run New York\nWhen I come out ofcourt, yeah, I pop the cork\nI keep it gangsta, I have you outlined in chalk (I, I get it)\nIn the hood if you ask about me\nThey'll tell ya I'm about my bread (I, I get it)\nRound the world if ya ask about me\nThey'll tell you they love the kid (I, I get it)\n\nHo, hey (I, I get it)\nHo, hey (I, I get it)\nHo, hey (Yeah)\nHo, hey (I run New York)\nHo, hey (I, I get it)\nHo, hey (I, I get it)\nHo, hey (Yeah, yeah)\nHo, hey (I run New York)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I'm back on the streets, man)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I'm bringing the heat, man)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I'm on my grind)\nMoney\u2014 Money, I got; money\u2014 money, I got (Like all the time)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (Tryna stop my shine?)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (I'll cock my nine)\nI\u2014 I get money; money, I got (Don't get out of line)\nMoney\u2014 Money, I got; money\u2014 money, I got (I said, \"Don't get out of line\")\nI, I get it\nI, I get it\nYeah, yeah"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsOutta Control (Remix) Lyrics\nIt's the Infamous Mobb, M-O-B-B (ha, ha)\nWe can't be touched nigga, can't you see (G-Unit)\nYou do you man cause me I'm 'gon do my thing, you know I do my thing\nI'mma get my drink on and party like it's ok\n\nTrust me man it's ok, bounce with me in slow mo\nWhen they hear the kid in the house they're like, \"Oh no\"\n50 got 'em locin again, they open again\nGot 'em sipping on that juice and gin\nYou could find me in the background burning that Backwood\nStyling and stunting, doing my two step fronting\nNow I'mma tell you what Em told me, homey\nJust lose the parental discretion's advised, this is grown folk music\nNow blend in with me, as I proceed to break it down\nIt's always off the chain man when I'm around\nI play the block bumping, it was all for the dough\nI get the club jumping, cause I'm sick with flow\nYou know it's sold out, like wherever I go\nI jam packed the show man that's for sure\nI got the info you already know\nMan I get it popping in the club, everybody show me love, let's go\n\nYou, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control\nQuit playing turn the music up a little bit\nBounce with me now shorty let's get into it\nYou, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control\nQuit playing turn the music up a little bit\nBounce with me now homey let's get into it\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nYou wanna search me for certain but hurry up cause I'm thirsty\nI need that, grind in my system P, on my side twisting\nIn the club today for the chick to go both\nWays, let me see that ID just for proof\nWith the drink til the burn is gone\nHit the dancefloor like a scene from soft porn\nBefore it pop, make em sign a disclaimer\nTry to get me on some Pac shit these tricks will frame ya\nBut, in any event, keep fucking with 50 it makes sense\nCents, into them dollars, the hoes wanna holler\nBut you lookin at a nigga that done came from the squalor\nNow my buddy so gone I can pop your collar\nNow If I don\u2019t say nothin, let me see you swallow\nIn my crib got the co-ed back the new problem\nIn the club feed them liquor of the wise I'm starving\nSo much green gettin twisted like Botanical Garden, let's go\n\nYou, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control\nQuit playing turn the music up a little bit\nBounce with me now shorty let's get into it\nYou, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control\nQuit playing turn the music up a little bit\nBounce with me now homey let's get into it\nYou already know how it go, I bang, I shine\nI play, I stay I'm going for mine\nI'm young, I'm black, I'm rich and yes\nI'm ghetto than the motherfucking project steps\nI'm cool, I'm calm you looking real stressed\nI'm strapped I'm armed kid, hold your head\nI'm known for gat popping, when I got problems\nI don't run, I just gun you all up\nBut we ain't come here to start no drama\nWe just looking for our future baby mamas\nWith money with face with style and body\nI cook I clean I swear that mami\nJust as long as you don't go off and tell nobody\nI go down low, I'm lying I'm trying my best to let you know\nSugar pop get at P\nThe Doc beat make it easy to get 'em in the bed sheets\n\nYou, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control\nQuit playing turn the music up a little bit\nBounce with me now shorty let's get into it\nYou, know, I, got, what it takes to make the club go outta control\nQuit playing turn the music up a little bit\nBounce with me now homey let's get into it"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsMajor Distribution Lyrics\nI'm trying to move 1 brick, 2 brick, 3 bricks, four, more\nI'm trying to move 5 bricks, 10 bricks, 20 bricks, raw\nI smoke one ounce staring at the caddy on the showroom floor\nNow I'm trying to move 5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds, more, boy\n\nRun tell the Bloods I\u2019m crippin', go tell the Crips I\u2019m Blood\nNigga, I be trippin', bitch, I don't give a fuck\nI put the K on niggas, I spray on niggas\nCome through 2012 XJ on niggas\nI'm an apex predator, nigga, I'm stronger\nShooters on deck, I break bread and they on ya\nNiggas said I fell off, oh, you heard I fell off?\nWhy the fuck would you be repeating that?\nNigga, I'm a rap tycoon, make a 100 mill by June\nNow who the fuck said I can't rap, Jay?\nI'm in a dope fiend's dream, I got it for 'em raw\nI got that morphine memories, I've been breaking the law\nI was born a burner, in the stroller with the llama\nI'm violent, I kill a nigga, put that on my mama\nNah, nah, don't tell me nothing about none of these niggas\nI smoke all these niggas for this bread\n\nI'm trying to move 1 brick, 2 brick, 3 bricks, four, more\nI'm trying to move 5 bricks, 10 bricks, 20 bricks, raw\nI smoke one ounce staring at the caddy on the showroom floor\nNow I'm trying to move 5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds, more, boy\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI give a fuck about a fed as I jump up outta bed\n5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds, yeah\nI'm trying to put this shit away on the low\nI need a hit a day, think you better get away\nFrom my, oh, my, I got a birdie that'll fly\nFrom Cali to Kingston, back to NY\nSnoop's smash the kush, from 5 to 9\nCome by and get you some pounds and now you flying high\nRun with the metal with my foot to the pedal\nG's with the trees and the C's on my level\n5-0, you know I go hard, these fools call me Bogart\nHead nigga in charge, these niggas soft as DeBarge\nBut I ain't tripping, I'm just flipping my cheese\nCause if you really want the bomb come and fuck with your G's\nI got it, always kill, always will\nHad that, sit that, my nigga get that, you hear that?\n\nI'm trying to move 1 brick, 2 brick, 3 bricks, four, more\nI'm trying to move 5 bricks, 10 bricks, 20 bricks, raw\nI smoke one ounce staring at the caddy on the showroom floor\nNow I'm trying to move 5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds, more, boy\n\n5 AM in the kitchen, nigga, I'm coughing\nBag full of white 8 balls, I'm going golfing\nNow homie got killed last night, bought him a coffin\nRetaliated the same night, made him a dolphin\nGuess that's the life of a yay' flipper\nChoppers making your ass get naked just like a stripper\nGot cameras for the jackers, home invaders, man\nThem niggas coming all black like they Raiders fans\nAll I saw growing up was kilos and gangbanging\nThen the homie taught me to whip, gamechanging\nNow I'm breaking down birds on the coffee table\nYeah, and half them bitches sold 'fore they off the table\nGotta look, nigga wantin' my half, I\u2019m gonna split it\nThe type of nigga work that visit like it's a skillet\nLess Soda, more water, stretching like it's elastic\nWeigh it up in 250's, wrap it up in plastic, yeah\nI'm trying to move 1 brick, 2 brick, 3 bricks, four, more\nI'm trying to move 5 bricks, 10 bricks, 20 bricks, raw\nI smoke one ounce staring at the caddy on the showroom floor\nNow I'm trying to move 5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds, more, boy\n\nYeah, you know what it is. It's your cripping cousin, 5-O. Anytime you need that mothafuckin' smoke, you know I got it, cuz. You need 5 pounds, 10 pounds, 20 pounds? Whatever you need, you know I got it. And if them niggas out there in the NY need it give 'em my connect so I can hook them niggas up with that. Ooh wee, ooh wee! We tryna move this shit, cuz. For real though. I got too much of this shit, homie. Yeah, I'm Bob Marley reincarnated. Jah! Rastafari!"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsToo Rich for the Bitch Lyrics\n\nThat bitch there a door knob, nigga, we all get a turn\nFuck you catching feelings for? I mean when your ass'll learn?\nThat pussy community, community\n\nWhile you be all in her DM, nigga\nI be all in that BM with her\nYou be all in your feelings 'bout it\nLike \"when I see him I'mma kill this nigga\"\nI'm on three-way like, \"you hear this nigga?\"\nI should take the bitch back and clip the nigga\nPussy make him not pay attention\nYou punk bitch go with this nigga\nI throw bands, bitch, these hoes love me\nI fuck a bad bitch 'till she ugly\nPut the pussy in recovery\nI\u2019m like, \"now what you think of me?\"\nNiggas goin\u2019 out just to talk to these hoes\nBlowin\u2019 big bankrolls on clothes\nNow they wonder where the money at\nYeah, the motherfucking money that they had from the re-up gone\nI don't do no stalkin'\nI don't cuff no hoes, tell a bitch keep walkin'\nI don't do much talkin'\nRight now I'm flossin', I do this often\nGotta flex on a bitch\nTag team, I got next on a bitch (I got next)\nI ain't stressing a bitch\nBut every now and then I blow a check on a bitch\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nDrop that ho back off in her hood, too rich for the bitch\nI'm too rich for the bitch, I'm too rich for the bitch\nDrop that ho back off at that club, I'm too rich for the bitch\nI'm too rich for the bitch, I'm too rich for the bitch\nNow do it, baby, do it, baby (do it, do it)\nDo it, baby, do it (yeah yeah)\nNow do it, baby, do it, baby (do it, do it)\nDo it, baby, do it (yeah yeah)\n\nShawty playin', she lame for that\nShe ain't have to put a nigga name in that\nBeefin' over these bitches, not me\nNah, nigga, I ain't came for that\nWe don't talk to no pillows, nigga\nWe brought all these bitches with us\nYou act like you got all the hoes\nBut all I see is niggas with you\nShe don't like when you pullin' on her\nShe like me, I'm pullin' up\nI act like I don't want her\nYou act like you can't get enough\nThat bitch there like dopeboys\nIf you got money she goin' for it\nI drink that hoe, her head so good\nShe gon' have you there like, \"oh lawd\"\nAll this time you ain't on\nI done bought her shit you can't afford\nShe take pictures with your money\nBut you tell her she can't do it\nAll you niggas don't panic\nI'm just tryna understand it\nI must take these hoes for granted\nOr you niggas just so romantic\nDrop that ho back off in her hood, too rich for the bitch\nI'm too rich for the bitch, I'm too rich for the bitch\nDrop that ho back off at that club, I'm too rich for the bitch\nI'm too rich for the bitch, I'm too rich for the bitch\nNow do it, baby, do it, baby (do it, do it)\nDo it, baby, do it (yeah yeah)\nNow do it, baby, do it, baby (do it, do it)\nDo it, baby, do it (yeah yeah)"}
{"text":"63 ContributorsPlaces to Go Lyrics\nYeah, Shady\nAftermath\nG-Unit!\n\nI got places to go (Uh-uh), got people to see (Yeah)\nThe penitentiary ain't the place for me (No)\nI'm warnin' you, do not tempt me\nI'll run up, squeeze and put a hole in you (Come on!)\nI got places to go, got people to see (Yeah)\nThe penitentiary ain't the place for me (Not me, nigga)\nI'm warnin' you, do not tempt me\nI'll run up, squeeze and put a hole in you (50!)\n\nYou mistakin' me for somebody that you should be testin'\nYou should be stressin', I'm finna fuckin' teach you a lesson (Yeah)\nRap 101's in session, Em laced the track that I'm blessin'\nSmith & Wesson's the weapon in case you was guessin', escape lesson (God, damn!)\nCappin' 'em, kept in my Benz, hot beginnin' to end (Woo!)\nWatch the 22's spin, my hoes they perfect ten (Come on!)\nI got shot up but I got up and I'm back at it again\nMotherfuckers that thought I wouldn't win pretend to be friends\nAt first you fail, try, try, try, try again\nI'm the best, don't you get it? Forget it, when I spit it, it's crazy\nYou love it, admit it, you like that I live it, it's Shady\nAftermath in yo' ass, bitch\nIf it's not a classic, when it's done we trash it\nFlow I got it mastered, stunt and get yo' ass kicked, bastard (Yeah)\nWhen measures get drastic, Glocks made out of plastic\nCock it, aim it, blast it, run nigga, now stash it (Come on!)\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI got places to go, got people to see (Yeah)\nThe penitentiary ain't the place for me\nI'm warnin' you, do not tempt me\nI'll run up, squeeze and put a hole in you\nI got places to go, got people to see (Yeah)\nThe penitentiary ain't the place for me\nI'm warnin' you, do not tempt me\nI'll run up, squeeze and put a hole in you\n\nIf there's a genie in a bottle of that Dom Perignon\nI'ma drink 'til I get to that bitch (Come on!)\nEm and Dre gonna introduce me to the 'burbs\nThey gonna listen to my words\nIn the hood they feel my shit (Break it down!)\nPicture a perfect picture, picture me in a pimp hat\nPicture me startin' shit (Uh-uh), picture me bustin' my gat\nPicture police mad, they ain't got a picture of that\nPicture me bein' broke, picture me smokin' a stack (Aw, shit!)\nPicture me comin' up, picture me rich from rap (Uh-uh)\nPicture me blowin' up, now picture me goin' back (Woo!)\nTo my momma basement to live, shit, picture that\nWhere I'm from it's a fact, you gotta watch your back\nYou wear a vest without a gat, you's a target, Jack (Uh-uh)\nHustle hard, money stack (Woo!), sell that dope, sell that crack (Come on!)\nSell that pack, sell that gat, sell that pussy, holla back (Yeah, yeah)\n50 Cent, too much Henny, man I'm bent, I'm outta here\nI got places to go, got people to see (Yeah)\nThe penitentiary ain't the place for me\nI'm warnin' you, do not tempt me\nI'll run up, squeeze and put a hole in you\nI got places to go, got people to see (Yeah)\nThe penitentiary ain't the place for me\nI'm warnin' you, do not tempt me\nI'll run up, squeeze and put a hole in you\n\nHa-ha, man, I ain't' goin' to jail, not even to visit a nigga\nYou wanna holler at me, you write me\nMatter of fact, you gotta send it to Sunset Boulevard up in the Mondrian (Ha-ha-ha)\nRidin' 'round in one of Dre's Ferraris, nigga\nOh, matter of fact, I might be in Detroit ridin' down 8 Mile Road\nYou know, to one of Em's joints and shit (Ha-ha)\nYa heard? I got places to go, man, you know\nShady\/Aftermath, we finna start printin' money (He-he-he-he)\nPuttin' Em's face on these motherfuckin' bills, shit (Ha-ha-ha-ha)\nAin't shit you can do about it"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsTryna Fuck Me Over Lyrics\n\nUh-huh, yeah\nUh-huh\n\nI ain't gon' let the people frisk me if I'm dirty, homie\nA nigga never touched me, I got that thirty on me (You better watch your step)\nY'all tryna fuck me over, y'all always tryna fuck me over\nY'all tryna fuck me over (You better watch your step)\nY'all always tryna fuck me over\n\nNiggas around me, yeah, they hit licks\nMix a little red and yellow when they get lit\nTryna turn up with a bad bitch\nHave her in the telly doin' freak shit (You better watch your step)\nNiggas sell a little bit of everythin'\nRockin' Yacht-Master and the pinky rin'\nFlexing like \"bitch, if you knew better\"\nYou fuck with a real nigga and you do better (You better watch your step)\nShawty ass fat like she a stripper\nThat wiggle when she walk make you wanna tip her\nBartenders comin', yeah, they move quicker\nTwenty, thirty bottles to the rich niggas\nEverythin' cool when I'm in the room\nCome with two shooters, not a hunnid goons\nNigga, don't trip, you don't want that\nBoy, you gonna fuck around and get your ass capped (You better watch your step)\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI ain't gon' let the people frisk me if I'm dirty, homie\nA nigga never touched me, I got that thirty on me\nY'all tryna fuck me over, y'all always tryna fuck me over\nY'all tryna fuck me over\n(You better watch your step)\nY'all always tryna fuck me over\n\nRight before I came into this bitch hot\nNeeded cigarettes, I made a pit stop\nSpent my life tryna be a good guy\nStill people want to see me get, got\nNothin' like it ever was before\nHair fallin' out, I'm twenty years old\nGot a lot of stress, that you don\u2019t know\nStill kick it like paint and this shit gold (You better watch your)\nAyy, pull up in this bitch and I\u2019m flexin'\nJumpin' out the motherfuckin' Benz, yeah\nAll these damn diamonds on my necklace\nCatchin' frostbite when I exit\nSo goddamn cold, see your breath, yeah\nHundred cigarettes then I exhale\nThousand for these fuckin' Margielas (You better watch your step)\nHundred thousand chains on my chest, yeah\nIce on my rings, ice, yeah, you see me shinin'\nTwo hunnid K in jewels this year, you can't tell me nothin'\nAnd I'm gone, I ain't never sober\nMe and 50 got shooters, if you tryna fuck me over, ooh (You better watch your step)\nI ain't gon' let the people frisk me if I'm dirty, homie\nA nigga never touched me, I got that thirty on me\nY'all tryna fuck me over, y'all always tryna fuck me over\nY'all tryna fuck me over, y'all always tryna fuck me over (You better watch your step)\nI ain't gon' let the people frisk me if I'm dirty, homie\nA nigga never touched me, I got that thirty on me\nY'all tryna fuck me over, y'all always tryna fuck me over\nY'all tryna fuck me over, y'all always tryna fuck me over (you better watch your step)"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsHate It or Love It (G-Unit Remix) Lyrics\nYeah, let's take 'em back\nUh-huh\n\nComin up I was confused, my mommy kissin a girl\nConfusion occurs comin up in the cold world\nDaddy ain't around, probably out commitin felonies\nMy favorite rapper used to sing, \"Check, check out my melody\"\nI wanna live good, so shit I sell dope\nFor a four finger ring, one of them gold ropes\nNana told me if I passed I'd get a sheepskin coat\nIf I can move a few packs I'd get the hat, now that'd be dope\nTossed and turned in my sleep that night\nWoke up the next mornin, niggas had stole my bike\nDifferent day, same shit, ain't nothin' good in the hood\nI'd run away from this bitch and never come back if I could\n\nHate it or love it, the underdog's on top\nAnd I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop\nGo 'head envy me, I'm rap's M.V.P\nAnd I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me\nHate it or love it, the underdog's on top\nAnd I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop\nGo 'head envy me, I'm rap's M.V.P\nAnd I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI told Dre from the gate \"I'd carry the heat for ya\"\nFirst mixtape song I inherited beef for ya\nGritted my teeth for ya, G-G-G-G for ya\nPut Compton on my back when you in need of soldiers\nAt my last show I threw away my N.W.A. gold\nI had the whole crowd yellin \"Free Yayo!\"\nSo niggas better get up outta mine\nFor I creep and turn your projects into Columbine\nAnd I'm rap's MVP\nDon't make me remind y'all what happened in D.C\nThis nigga ain't Gotti, he pretend\nMad at us cause Ashanti got a new boyfriend\nAnd it seems your lil rat turned out to be a mouse\nThis beef shit is for the birds and the birds fly South\nEven Young Buck can vouch, when the doubts was out\nWho gave the West coast mouth-to-mouth?\nHahaha\n\nHate it or love it, the underdog's on top\nAnd I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop\nGo 'head envy me, I'm rap's M.V.P\nAnd I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me\nHate it or love it, the underdog's on top\nAnd I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop\nGo 'head envy me, I'm rap's M.V.P\nAnd I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me\nFrom the beginnin to the end, losers lose, winners win\nThis is real we ain't got to pretend\nThe cold world that we in, is full of pressure and pain\nI thought it would change, it's stayin' the same\n\nHow many of them boys is witcha'\nWhen you had that little TV you had to hit on to get a picture\nI'm walking with a snub, cause niggas do a lot of slick talkin\nIn the club 'til they coughin on the rug\nAin't never had much but a Walkman and a bud\nMy role model is gone snortin up his drug\nBad enough they want me to choke\nMy boy just got poked in the throat\nNow it's an RIP shirt in my coat\nNow I'm speedin, reminiscin\nHoldin my weed in, never listen\nIf I see him I'mma lift 'em\nAnd maybe that'll even the score\nBut if not, it'll be me on the floor\n\nHate it or love it, the underdog's on top\nAnd I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop\nGo 'head envy me, I'm rap's M.V.P\nAnd I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me\nHate it or love it, the underdog's on top\nAnd I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop\nGo 'head envy me, I'm rap's M.V.P\nAnd I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me\nI started out at 15, scared as hell\nI took 30 off a pack and made them sales\nAs a youth, man I used to hustle for loot\nWith that lil deuce-deuce and my triple fat goose\nSippin Easy Jesus, rockin a leases\nMy momma whipped me when she found my pieces\nI look back on life and thank God I'm blessed\nWe the best on the planet so forget the rest\n\nYou know I'm still nice with my cook game\nLook man, it's a hood thang; that's why I'm loved in Brook-lyn\nI handle mine just like a real nigga should\nIf I do some time homey, I'm still all good\nLet me show you what a thug bout, born to die\nI took the bullets outta 50 put 'em in my fo'-five\nAnd I ain't even got my feet wet yet\nA seven figure nigga who ain't seen a royalty check\n\nHate it or love it, the underdog's on top\nAnd I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop\nGo 'head envy me, I'm rap's M.V.P\nAnd I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me\nHate it or love it, the underdog's on top\nAnd I'm gon' shine homey until my heart stop\nGo 'head envy me, I'm rap's M.V.P\nAnd I ain't goin' nowhere, so you can get to know me"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsI\u2019m Supposed To Die Tonight Lyrics\nAh-ha man! Ayy you know where them niggas be at right?\nTake me to 'em\n\nAll through the hood I keep hearin' niggas sayin' (Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap)\nI'm supposed to die tonight\nNiggas done put a hit out and they talkin' like this shit okay (Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap)\nI'm gonna ride tonight\nWe rollin', whip stolen, AK loaded\nI'm gonna ride tonight\nWe smokin' (Uh-huh), straight loc'n, lockin' loadin'\nSomebody gon' die tonight\n\nThis is not new, I been in this position before\nGrandma crib, niggas outside of her door\nDifferent day, same shit, old MAC, new clip\n32 hollow-tips, gloves, no rubber grip\nI'm a boss, but niggas never show no respect\nI catch 'em slippin', I'll have 'em tongue-kissin' my TEC\nGo on, come, test me, pussy boy, don't try it\nPolice response never fast enough to shots fired\nDon't be stupid, find out who you fuckin' with son\n'Fore we find out where yo bitch get her hair and nails done\nIt's elementary, life is but a dream\nYou know row, row your boat, your blood forms a stream\nAfter you get hit, you shoulda thought about the shit\nYou took that paper you take a life or yo life get took bitch\nSometimes I sit and look at life from a different angle\nDon't know if I'm God's child or I'm Satan's angel\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nAll through the hood I keep hearin' niggas sayin' (Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap)\nI'm supposed to die tonight\nNiggas done put a hit out and they talkin' like this shit okay (Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap)\nI'm gonna ride tonight\nWe rollin', whip stolen, AK loaded\nI'm gonna ride tonight\nWe smokin', straight loc'n, lockin' loadin'\nSomebody gon' die tonight\n\nIn 2002, if you asked me to make a wish\nI simply woulda wished that my music would be a hit\nBig said, \"Damn, niggas wanna stick me for my paper\nAnd pray for my downfall,\" I understand it all\nBut me, I'm a little more flashy a nigga\nSo chances are, I'ma have to blast me a nigga\nI'm on that Kevlar vest shit, that Wild Wild West shit\nThere's 81 one karat stones in my necklace\nI shine so hard, I make motherfuckers wan' kill me\nEvery projects in every hood I go, they feel me\nKnow it sounds like rap, but this shit is real B\nI don't talk that rich shit, but nigga I'm filthy\nWhen I come out to play, and my mob ain't with me\nYou can bet your bottom dollar that revolver with me\nHomeboy, frontin' on me'll shorten your lifespan\nHold the mic with my left, my knife in my right hand\nYeah!\nAll through the hood I keep hearin' niggas sayin' (Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap)\nI'm supposed to die tonight\nNiggas done put a hit out and they talkin' like this shit okay (Bap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap)\nI'm gonna ride tonight\nWe rollin', whip stolen, AK loaded\nI'm gonna ride tonight\nWe smokin', straight loc'n, lockin' loadin'\nSomebody gon' die tonight"}
{"text":"46 Contributors9 Shots Lyrics\nFifty, fifty\nFifty, fifty\nFifty, fifty\nFerrari, Ferrari\nFerrari, Ferrari\nFerrari, Ferrari\nShooter, shooter\nShooter, shooter\n\nI was innocent then, I ain\u2019t do no wrong\nShe said, \u201cyou mommy little man,\u201d I said, \u201cyep, uh huh\u201d\nShe was everything to me, when she came, I just lit up\nSunday morning I was so sharp, all did up\nIt was welfare or hustlin', they killed her for that\nThe first shot, bullet wound in my back\nI\u2019m fucked up, look at my sneakers, I\u2019m fucked up\nNow I\u2019m on my own, mommy gone\nSam said, \u201cyou a young boy, why your clothes look so old?\nYou don\u2019t need fish, little nigga, you need a pole\nYou need no new kicks, you need an O\u201d\nChop that, bag it, get right back at it\nThat touched me, it hit me in my heart\nI\u2019m a hustler, homie, you was giving me my start\nI am what I am, Sabrina\u2019s only baby\nPracticing in the mirror, pulling out my .380\nOh man, I fucked up nana gonna kill me\nWhenever shit can go wrong it always will, see\nSeven grams of cocaine, three grams of dope\nSaint Mary medallion hanging from my rope\nTry to punk me and my gun smoke\nLook, I\u2019m outta control, my gun go\nOff like it\u2019s legal, call the cops, you need to\nGive \u2018em my description, I ain\u2019t bullshittin'\nMy high school sweetheart love didn\u2019t last long\nNiggas start flashing that bread and she was gone\nThat hurt me like the bullet in my calf then\nMy next girl was a pain in the ass\nI got two shots left, in case niggas try to get me\nThat\u2019s nine shots, we just call it Fifty\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nMama said the Lord gon\u2019 bless us\nMama said, mama said\nMama said the Lord gon\u2019 bless us\nThen in came the landlord, beef, and the stresses\nMama said the Lord gon\u2019 bless us\nMama said, mama said\nMama said the Lord gon\u2019 bless us\nThe dope bought the shit the food stamps couldn\u2019t get us\nMama said the Lord gon\u2019 bless us\nThat\u2019s what mama said, that's what mama said"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsDisco Inferno Lyrics\nOne, two, three, let's go!\n\nLi'l mama, show me how you move it\nGo 'head, put your back into it\nDo your thing like it ain't nothing to it\nShake, sh-sh-shake that ass, girl!\nLi'l mama, show me how you move it\nGo 'head, put your back into it\nDo your thing like it ain't nothing to it\nShake, sh-sh-shake that ass, girl!\n\nGo, go, go, 50 in the house\nBounce, y'all already know what I'm about\nThe flow sound sick over Dre drums, nigga\nI ain't stupid, I say Doc then my doe come quicker, whoa!\nShorty hips is hypnotic, she moves it so erotic\nI watch her, I'm like, \"Bounce that ass, girl\"\nI get it crump in here, I make it jump in here\nFront in here, we'll thump in here, oh!\nSo gutter, so ghetto, so hood\nSo gully, so grimey, what's good\nOutside the Benz on dubs, I'm in the club with the snub\nDon't start nothing, there won't be nothing, uhh (one, two, three, let\u2019s go!)\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nLi'l mama, show me how you move it\nGo 'head, put your back into it\nDo your thing like it ain't nothing to it\nShake, sh-sh-shake that ass, girl!\nLi'l mama, show me how you move it\nGo 'head, put your back into it\nDo your thing like it ain't nothing to it\nShake, sh-sh-shake that ass, girl!\n\nLet's party! Everybody stand up\nEverybody put your hands up\nLet's party! Everybody bounce with me\nSip champagne and burn a little greenery\n\nIt's hot! Disco inferno\nLet's go! You're now rocking with a pro\nI get dough to flip dough, to get more fa sho'\nGet my drink on, then get on the dance floor\nLook, homie, I don't dance, all I do is this\nIt's the same two step wit a li'l twist\nListen, pimpin', I ain't new to this, I'm true to this\nPay attention, boy, I'll teach you how to do this shit\nYou mix a little Cris' with a little Dom Perignon\nAnd a little Hennessy, you know we finna carry on\nI'm hollering at these shorties in the club trying to get right\nWe gon' be up in this bitch till we break daylight (daylight) (one, two, three, let\u2019s go!)\nLi'l mama, show me how you move it\nGo 'head, put your back into it\nDo your thing like it ain't nothing to it\nShake, sh-sh-shake that ass, girl!\nLi'l mama, show me how you move it\nGo 'head, put your back into it\nDo your thing like it ain't nothing to it\nShake, sh-sh-shake that ass, girl!\n\nYou see me shining, lit up with diamonds\nCause I stay grindin', uh-huh\nHomie, you can catch me swooping\nBentley coupin' switching lanes, haha\nIf you see me rolling, you know I'm holding\nI'm bout my paper, yeah\nNigga, I'm serious, I ain't playing\nI'll embed it in your brain, I'm off the chain, G-Unit\nNext level now, turn it up a notch\nEm and Dre sent me to tear up the spot\nFront on me, oh no, you know I'm loco\nHands up on the dance floor, okay, let's go\n\nLi'l mama, show me how you move it\nGo 'head, put your back into it\nDo your thing like it ain't nothing to it\nShake, sh-sh-shake that ass, girl!\nLi'l mama, show me how you move it\nGo 'head, put your back into it\nDo your thing like it ain't nothing to it\nShake, sh-sh-shake that ass, girl!"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsStraight to the Bank Lyrics\n\nYeah, yeah\n\nWhen I'm out in N.Y., boy, it's blunts and Phillies\nWhen I'm out in L.A., boy, it's wraps and Swishers\nNow Blood walk to this, now Crip walk to this\nNow throw it up, raise it up for that gangsta shit\nNow Blood walk to this, now Crips walk to this\nNow throw it up, raise it up for that gangsta shit\n\nI'm in my Lambo, maggot, my fo' fo' faggot\nDoors lift up, I'm like Go Go Gadget\nSee the shit I got on, homie, I'd hate too\nMy Teflon on, boy, my government issue\nI'll hit your vertebrae, bullets rip through tissues\nYour wife on the futon hugging that Shih Tzu\nHomie, you a bitch, you got feminine ways\nHeard you got four lips and bleed for seven days\nI got fo' fifths and bananas on the K's\nAnd got more whips than a runaway slave\nMe and Yayo go back like some high top fades\nWhen I made fifty mill, Em got paid\nWhen I made sixty mill, Dre got paid\nWhen I made eighty mill, Jimmy got paid\nI ain't even gotta rap now, life is made\nSaid I ain't even gotta rap, I'm filthy, mane\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI'm laughing straight to the bank with this\n(Ha, ha ha ha ha ha, ha, ha ha ha ha ha)\nI'm laughing straight to the bank with this\n(Ha, ha ha ha ha ha, ha, ha ha ha ha ha)\nI'm laughing straight to the bank with this\n(Ha, ha ha ha ha ha, ha, ha ha ha ha ha)\nI'm laughing straight to the bank with this\n(Ha, ha ha ha ha ha, ha, ha ha ha ha ha)\nI\u2019m laughing\u2014\n\nI keep nothing but hundred dollar bills in the bank roll\nI got the kind of money that the bank can't hold\nGot it off the street movin bundles and O's\nSeventy Three Caprice old school when I roll\nBreeze pass with the E-Pass, fuck the toll\nNo more platinum, I'm wearing gold\nI'm internationally known as the kid with the flow\nThat brings enough dough, it's never enough though\nShit I need mo', new shit out the sto'\nBaby blue was old, fresh off the flo'\nStashbox by the dashbox in case they want war\nMake the purple bring the green in, fuck the law\nI'm oh so raw, I'm hot, I'm sure\nI'm like the coolest motherfucker around the globe, boy\nI set the club on fire I told ya\nI'm the general; salute me soldier\nI'm laughing straight to the bank with this\n(Ha, ha ha ha ha ha, ha, ha ha ha ha ha)\nI'm laughing straight to the bank with this\n(Ha, ha ha ha ha ha, ha, ha ha ha ha ha)\nI'm laughing straight to the bank with this\n(Ha, ha ha ha ha ha, ha, ha ha ha ha ha)\nI'm laughing straight to the bank with this\n(Ha, ha ha ha ha ha, ha, ha ha ha ha ha)\nI\u2019m laughing\u2014\n\nNow work it out now, shorty work it out\nI wanna see you, break it down\nNow back it up now, you know what I'm about\nIt's like a bank job I'm in and I'm out\nNow work it out now, work it out, work it out\nNow work it out now, work it out, work it out"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsGatman and Robbin Lyrics\nGee willikers, Gatman, they got me surrounded\nI'm on my way\n\nI got a Gatman, if there's a problem I'ma solve it\nA nigga movin' around with a big-ass revolver\nAnd a Batman\nWhat the fuck, are you retarded?\nYou touch Shady, I'll leave you dearly departed\n\nThis ain't Batman, Robin, Cagney or Lacey\nIt's 50 Cent and Shady, the worst, baby\nPut your hands on my peoples I'll react crazy (Yeah!)\nPut a hole through your front and your back, maybe\nBut go 'head, you try me\nI'll have your ass hooked up to an IV\nI leave no witnesses when I ride, B\nYou fuck with me, you'll see\nI react like an animal and tear you apart\nIf a masterpiece was murder I'd major in art\nNiggas know I was wrapped too tight from the start\nBut being a little off landed me on top of the charts (Woo!)\nSo you take the good with the bad, I guess\nLevel three Teflon plate on my chest\nHammer cocked back, hollow tip in the chamber, danger\nAnger'll change ya, and make you aim that and squeeze\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nI got a Gatman, if there's a problem I'ma solve it\nA nigga movin' around with a big-ass revolver\nAnd a Batman\nMotherfucker, you retarded?\nYou touch 50, I'll leave you dearly departed\n\nWe're walking away from a beef in which clearly you started\nI said, \"We're walking away,\", did you hear me?\nYou oughta be thankful that we ain't beefin'\nWe\u2019re still breathing and just leave it at THAT!\n'Cause if me and 50 and G-Unit hop back in that BAT!\u2014mobile\nIt ain't gonna be no more rap it's gonna be BRAT!\nRetaliation, it'll be like them Muslim Shi'a ATTACKS!\nSomewhere along the line it's like me and 50 made a PACT!\nHe's got my back, I got his back (BACK!)\nIt's almost like we're kinda like Siamese twins\n'Cause when we beef we pull each other into the bullshit\nLike we're conjoined at the hip, this is unavoidable\nSome of the shit is squashable; some shit'll never boil over\nSome of it will just simmer at best if left alone\nBut let it be known there will be no sitdowns\nWith no Daves and 'Zinos\nThere will be no peace discussions with me\nThere ain't gonna be no friendly debates over crumpets and tea\nJust quit fucking with me and I'll gladly quit fucking with you\nJust spit your sixteen and do what you gotta do to get through\nWithout mentioning me\nOr the machine of Jimmy Iovine or Dre or 50\nOr D-Twizzie, Obie and just let it be\nOr we'll be\u2014*knock-knock*\u2014with a\nGatman, if there's a problem I'ma solve it\nA nigga movin' around with a big-ass revolver\nAnd a Batman\nWhat the fuck, are you retarded?\nYou touch Shady, I'll leave you dearly departed\n\nNigga, you get it twisted, you gon' get your wig splitted\nI don't give a fuck, I don't care if police know I did it\nMan I hustle, I get money in the sunshine or a blizzard\nI go hard for that paper, homie, I just gotta get it\nGot a money scheme, you plot it, you can count me in I'm with it\nYou cross me, you gon' make a cemetery visit\nThat's gangsta, you know me I talk 'cause I live it\nShell cases drop, when that chopper chop, way up the block\nGet hit with copper tops, when the drama pop, the llama pop\nAnd it won't stop, you can run call the cops\nThis ain't new, niggas know how I be on it\nThat shit you got, put my pistol to you, I want it\nIt's not a game, perfect aim\nYou feel the flame up against your brain\nMan it's so hot, I'll make you wish it rained\n\nI got a Gatman, if there's a problem I'ma solve it\nA nigga movin' around with a big-ass revolver\nAnd a Batman\nWhat the fuck, are you retarded?\nYou touch Shady, I'll leave you dearly departed"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsBest Friend (Remix) Lyrics\nOhhhh oooh!!! (Yeah! It's my tape man) Whoa\nWhoa oooh oooh oooh!!! (Listen to my tape)\nI've waited, yeah!!! (WOO!!!)\n\nIf I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me all the time)\nCan I be your best friend if you promise you'll be mine?\n(Girl promise you'll be mine)\nThey say he's just a friend (Uh huh)\nNow, girl let's not pretend (Come on)\nEither he is or he ain't your man (Ha Ha!)\nPlease say he's just a friend\nIf I was your best friend\n\nFirst we get the talkin, then we get the touchin'\nIf we get past the phone games we'll be fuckin'\nI kiss like the french then put my tongue in your ear\nDo it like the dogs do it girl and pull on your hair\nFor me a different scenery just means a different position\nIn the tub or on the sink, I improvise now listen\nIn the chopper or on the jet, join the mile high club\nI'm no fool I know money can't buy me love (Ha Ha)\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nYou said that I could call you whenever I needed someone to listen to me\nThat's why I'm here standin' by your side cause you always come through for me\nSo many others tried to be where you are but they just wanted to do me\nGlad you took your time and now I'm satisfied that's why I want you all to me\n\nCause if you were my best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me baby)\nCan I be your best friend, I promise boy you'll be mine\n(Oooh baby be mine)\nI said he's just a friend, baby it's not pretend\nEither he is or he ain't my man, I said he's just a friend\n\nIf I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me all the time)\nCan I be your best friend, if you promise you'll be mine\n(Girl promise you'll be mine)\nPlease say he's just a friend (Uh huh)\nNow girl let's not pretend (Come on)\nEither he is or he ain't your man (Ha Ha!)\nPlease say he's just a friend\nIf I was your best friend\n\nWhile you in your bubble bath I'll come wash on your back\nWhen you puttin on your lotion I can help you with that\nI sit and think of things to say that may make you smile\nOr give you gifts from my heart to reflect my style\nOr slang I use when we build may change how you talk\nAnd if I'm focused while I'm strokin I could change how you walk\nThere's a swagger that you calm but when you come from New York\nI'm a hustler I just hustle in the things that I bought\nSeparate, come on\nI'm not afraid to explore my body - oooh, gimme that feelin\nNow we can watch some TV or play a CD; baby that sexual healin'\nYou tried to sing to me; you're never on the key, but you do it just to appease me\nI rather spend my time wastin' time with you; oooh wee you make it so easy\n\nCause if you were my best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round all the time)\nCan I be your best friend, I promise boy you will be mine\n(Please baby be mine yeah!)\nI said he's just a friend (Oh Oooh!)\nBaby it's not pretend (No baby)\nEither he is or he ain't my man, I said he's just a friend\n\nWe been better than friends, for a long time\nAin't no need to pretend, you'll always be mine\nWe been better than friends, for a long time\nAin't no flippin' and fakin', you'll always be mine\n\nIf I was your best friend, I want you 'round all the time\n(I want you 'round me all the time)\nCan I be your best friend, if you promise you'll be mine\n(Girl promise you'll be mine)\nPlease say he's just a friend (Uh huh)\nNow girl let's not pretend (Come on)\nEither he is or he ain't your man (Ha Ha!)\nPlease say he's just a friend\nIf I was your best friend"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsNew Day Lyrics\nIt don't take much strength to pull a trigger\nBut try to get up every morning day after day and work for a living\nLet's see 'em try that\nThen we'll see who's the real tough guy\nThe working man is a tough guy\n\nParty people say, party people say\nAyy, it's a new day, it's a new day\nWorld is getting ready, everybody ready, yeah\nFor a new day, for a new day, celebrate and say\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\n\nI woke up this morning thinkin' 'bout the old me\nWhen I was feeling like Miller Lite and Ol' E\nBut now I ride on some conscious shit\nI'm getting bread while I toast to my accomplishments\nOnly one I could have a problem with is myself\nThat's probably why my only competition is myself\nFrom today to tomorrow, the Doc is just rocking the same drum\nFuck the past, though I ain't forgot where I came from\nI got the club rocking, uh\nI got your girl jocking, uh\nMe and Fif' still in this bitch, bitch\nWe goin' the distance with you party people, come on\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nParty people say, party people say\nAyy, it's a new day, it's a new day\nWorld is getting ready, everybody ready, yeah\nFor a new day, for a new day, celebrate and say\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy (Yeah)\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\n\nNow, you can get your knees on the church floor, pray it get\ufeff better\nOr push the dough on the liquor store and see where it get ya\nBut me, I got to be on top\nI said, me I got to be on top\nI got the street on lock\nI'm on automatic pilot, ain't nobody stopping me\nGrowing up in poverty ain't fill my heart with larceny\nNiggas ride, I don't hide, I dump to get 'em off of me\nI'm a leader, look and see the natural born boss of me\nThey from Bel Air, I'm from the bottom\nSoon as I spot 'em, I get to drop 'em and I got 'em\nI count my peace and red-dot 'em\nIt's dinner time when the nine come out\nIt's off with the chain, off with the ring\nMove, bang, off with ya brain\nParty people say, party people say\nAyy, it's a new day, it's a new day\nWorld is getting ready, everybody ready, yeah\nFor a new day, for a new day, celebrate and say\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\n\nMarks on the wall\nIt's now or never at all\nI'm gonna give it my all (Oh, oh)\nWhether I rise or fall (Oh, oh)\n\nTrue story, I said I'd get rich or die trying\nI did it, good luck sucker, trying to stop my shine\nNothing matters but the music, music my first love\nWe paper chasing, I'm always coming in first, 'cause\nI'm built for it, see I'm better under pressure\nI react like a maniac when I'm coming to get ya\nI got to win, Em watch and Dre watch and my son watchin'\nFuck that, losing ain't an option\nI'm sharp I'm on point\nThe ink from my ballpoint\nThrowing out my pain\nI'm back on my A-game\nI'm focused, for me, this is just another victory\nExcept that I'm stronger than an ox now, mentally\nParty people say, party people say\nAyy, it's a new day, it's a new day\nWorld is getting ready, everybody ready, yeah\nFor a new day, for a new day, celebrate and say\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy\nA-A-A-A-A-A-A-Ayy"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsA Baltimore Love Thing Lyrics\nShe loves me, she loves me not (Yeah)\nShe loves me not\n\nThe fiends need me, I ain't around, they bones ache\nDetox, rehab, cold sweats, watch them shake\nI'm not that genie in a bottle, I'm in a bag\nTake one hit and slide off to the Land of H, man\nWhen we first met, I thought you'd never doubt me\nNow, you tryna leave me, you never live without me\nGirl, I'm missing you, come and see me soon\nTie your arm up, put that lighter under that spoon\nNow, put that needle to your arm princess, stick it in, relapse\nI'm back, bitch\u2014don't ever try that again\nAll the shit I did for you, I made you feel good\nWe have a love thing, you treatin' this like it's just a fling\nWhat we have is more sacred than a vow or a ring\nYou broke my heart, you dirty bitch, I won't forget what you did\nIf you give birth, I'll already be in love with your kids\nListen, I don't give a damn if your ass starts smokin'\nBut we have a bond that is not to be broken\n\nWe got a love thing, girl, you tried to leave me\nBut you need me, can you see you're addicted to me?\nWe got a love thing, I can take you higher, girl\nFucking with me, you can be all you can be\nWe got a love thing, girl you tried to leave me\nBut you need me, can you see you're addicted to me?\nWe got a love thing, I can take you higher, girl\nFucking with me, you can be all you can be\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nBaby, you know, on the low, your sister been eyein' me\nI'm good-looking, so you know, soon, she be trying me\nHeard she bisexual, she fuck with that girl\nBut boy, oh boy, fucking wit me is a whole 'nother world\nAfter that first night she fall in love, then chase the feelin\nI hung out with Marvin when he wrote \"Sexual Healing\"\nKurt Cobain\u2014we were good friends; Ozzy Osbourne, too\nI be with rock stars\u2014see, you lucky I'm fucking with you\nI chilled with Frankie Lymon and Jimi Hendrix crew\nSee, this is new to you, but to me, this ain't new\nI live the lavish life; listen, if the mood is right\nMe, you, and your sister can do the do tonight\nI never steer you wrong; if you hyper, I make you calm\nI'll be your incentive, a reason for you to move forward\nLet's make a date, promise me you'll come to see me\nEven if it means you have to sell your mama's TV\nI love you\u2014love me back; no one said loving me'd be easy\n\nWe got a love thing, girl, you tried to leave me\nBut you need me, can you see you're addicted to me?\nWe got a love thing, I can take you higher, girl\nFucking with me, you can be all you can be\nWe got a love thing, girl you tried to leave me\nBut you need me, can you see you're addicted to me?\nWe got a love thing, I can take you higher, girl\nFucking with me, you can be all you can be (I love you)\nI got you barefooted on glass, chasing a dove\nThat monkey on your back symbolizes my love\nYour friends talk bad about me, bitch, you sit there and listen to 'em\nOver and over you hurt me, my love is unconditional\nThey talk to you when you up; when you down, they got nothing to say\nBut when you call up, I come running, I always take the pain away\nThey set you up to let you down; they crowned you prom queen\nThey know 'bout me; behind your back, they call you a fucking fiend\nCan we just be alone so I can kiss and hug you?\nPush me inside you; no other man can love you like I do\nCall me Daddy, I'll make you feel good, I mean, real good\nI find pleasure in pleasing you like a real man should\nIt was written long before us; it was carved in a tree\nForever, me and you, baby, we were meant to be\nThere's more to life than laughter; what brought us together was fate\nAnd we'll be hand in hand when you walk through those pearly gates\nAnd to see to that, I'ma do whatever it takes\n\nWe got a love thing, girl, you tried to leave me\nBut you need me, can you see you're addicted to me?\nWe got a love thing, I can take you higher, girl\nFucking with me, you can be all you can be\nWe got a love thing, girl you tried to leave me\nBut you need me, can you see you're addicted to me?\nWe got a love thing, I can take you higher, girl\nFucking with me, you can be all you can be"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsI\u2019ll Still Kill Lyrics\nOh, don't even look at me wrong when I come through the hood\nAin't nothing changed, still holla at my homies\nOh, and when I hit the block I still will kill\nAnd I don't want to, nigga, but I will if I got to\nKill, if niggas get to fucking around\nIf niggas get to fucking around\n\nYeah, respect come from admiration and fear\nYou can admire me or you could catch one in your wig\nYou see the Testarossa, the toaster's right on my lap\nSo if a nigga get out of line then nigga get clapped\nI got an arsenal, an infantry I'm built for this mentally\nThat's why I'm the general, I do what they pretend to do\nFront on me now, nigga, I'll be the end of you\nForget your enemies and think of what your friends'll do\nI drop a bag off, then let a mag off\nThe Heckler and Koch'll tear half of your ass off\nI'm not for the games, I'm not for all the playing\nThe hollow tips rain when I unleash the pain\nGet the message from the lines or get the message from the nine\nPaint a picture with words, you can see when I shine\nPut my back on the wall, nigga, watch me go for mine\nI let twenty-one shots off at the same time, yeah\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nOh, don't even look at me wrong when I come through the hood\nAin't nothing changed, still holla at my homies\nOh, and when I hit the block I still will kill\nAnd I don't want to, nigga, but I will if I got to\nKill, if niggas get to fucking around\nIf niggas get to fucking around\n\nYeah, where I'm from death is always in the air, homie\nNana love me so you know she say my prayers for me\nI come creeping through the hood wearing Teflon\nHit the corners, motherfuckers get left on\nNiggas know, if not, they better check my background\nTry and stick me I'll fill your back with MAC rounds\nAsk Preme, nigga, 50 don't back down\nI kick it funky like fiends in the crack house\nCross the line, boy, I'ma air ya ass out\nScrew your face at me I wanna know what that's 'bout\nNigga I know you ain't mad, I done came up\nAnd if you are, fuck you 'cause I ain't change up\nThe O.G.'s wanna talk, but I don't know these niggas\nAnd I ain't did no business with 'em, I don't owe these niggas\nA minute of my time, I get it cause I grind\nAll across the globe like the world's mine, yeh\nOh, don't even look at me wrong when I come through the hood\nAin't nothing changed, still holla at my homies\nOh, and when I hit the block I still will kill\nAnd I don't want to, nigga, but I will if I got to\nKill, if niggas get to fucking around\nIf niggas get to fucking around\n\nKonvict\nNow tell me have you ever looked off in the distance\nAnd seen a MAC aiming at your head, man?\nBefore you know it life is flashing, reminiscing\nAnd your body is dripping and full of lead, mane\nI done been there, I done copped that\nIt ain't never been a question, I'm bout that\nDon't go there, you get clapped at\nAnd if you plan to fuck around and re-route that\nYou'll never catch me riding around on these streets\nWithout a couple metal pieces under my feet\nFully automatic weapons unloaded will unleash\nStash up under the carpet like a can of sea breeze\n50 don't make me ride on these niggas\n'Cause I will kill, dip and hide on these niggas\n50 don't make me ride on these niggas\n'Cause I be long gone like The Ripper so\nOh, don't even look at me wrong when I come through the hood\nAin't nothing changed, still holla at my homies\nOh, and when I hit the block I still will kill\nAnd I don't want to, nigga, but I will if I got to\nKill, if niggas get to fucking around\nIf niggas get to fucking around"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsClick Clack Pow Officer Down Lyrics\nIt's on now, nigga\nWelcome to hell\nMy hood, there's no telling\nWhat they do to you\nAcross the street from Lucifer, he's only tough who...\nStupid nigga, you be using the blame\nWhen the fif start to flame you'll be losing your brain\n\nAnd your boss is a bitch\nHe snitched on Levar\nJunebug's a fucking flunky\nI don't trust him, either\n\nEeney meeney miney mo\nCatch a piggy by the toe\nClick clack pow, officer down\nEeney meeney miney mo\nCatch a piggy by the toe\nClick clack pow, officer down\n\nAnd your boss is a bitch\nHe snitched on Levar\nJunebug's a fucking flunky\nI don't trust him, either\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nOn the block, knocking down, taking shit getting real\nIn the block takin streets, Spin head for the hills\nNow you talk that shit, but is you bout it dog\nRespect the full rank, you ain't know lil dog\n\nEeney meeney miney mo\nIf you catch a piggie when you get it let it go\nAnd get on down along the road\nEeney meeney miney mo\nEeney meeney miney mo\nAaaaah Officer down"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsStill Think I\u2019m Nothing Lyrics\nOh yeah\nLook at you, you lil' dirty ass nigga you ain't shit\nOuuh\nBongo By The Way\n\nThey used to tell me that I wouldn't be nothing\nYeah\nNow Lamborghinis and Porsches we stunting\nLook at me now nigga\nPull up, get your bitch, in drop top we roll out\nY'all niggas ain't shit\nThey all act like they ain't know bet they know now\nI'm up nigga\n\nIf I ever said fuck you nigga I meant to\nWhen you come up how I came up, life's not gentle\nSee that tear in my mama eye, that meant the rent due\nI prayed on it, God didn't say nothing back\nSaw that cocaine you had, we turned it to crack\nHad a couple grams of diesel, we was just tryna make it\nA brown sheepskin on, niggas was tryna' take it\nYou know the kind of drama that come with the leather bomber\nNiggas try to jump you gotta stay with the lama\nSuckers shit niggas get shot over some nah, nah\nIf niggas want problems I'm sayin' this no problem\nI catch 'em on the late night and dearly depart 'em\nSee 50 Cent LiveGet tickets as low as $52You might also like\nLook back\nLook where we started from\nIt's all the beginning\nThey ain't tell me why we come this far\nNow they feel it in the air\nWhen it's 2AM and the sky is filled with stars\nDriving down the boulevard\nI remember when...\n\nThey used to tell me that I wouldn't be nothing\nYeah\nNow Lamborghinis and Porsches we stunting\nLook at me now nigga\nPull up, get your bitch, in drop top we roll out\nY'all niggas ain't shit\nThey all act like they ain't know bet they know now\nI'm up nigga\n\nI remember all the shit you said to me 'cause it hurt me\nThen it helped me 'cause then I was down to do the dirt\nSee the knots in my pockets boy, I go the cash route\nI see you with your skinny jeans, punk, with your ass out\nAnd I got all kind of money now\nLook what you made me\nGot a different type of temper, man a nigga get crazy\nMy A.P. look like I done dipped it in water, hard\nLike me when I done dipped in your daughter (GOD!)\nFrom playin' with Hot Wheels to collecting cars\nThat shit in the duPont REGISTRY's in my yard\nSomehow the bullshit shifted\nNow the motherfuckers calling me gifted\nAnd I be like\nLook back\nLook where we started from\nIt's all the beginning\nThey ain't tell me why we come this far\nNow they feel it in the air\nWhen it's 2AM and the sky is filled with stars\nDriving down the boulevard\nI remember when...\n\nThey used to tell me that I wouldn't be nothing\nYeah\nNow Lamborghinis and Porsches we stunting\nLook at me now nigga\nPull up, get your bitch, in drop top we roll out\nY'all niggas ain't shit\nThey all act like they ain't know bet they know now\nI'm up nigga"}
{"text":"R.I.P. to all the real niggas worldwide!\nSalute! Real shit\n\nI ride for my niggas, dawg\nI ride for my niggas\nI slide for my niggas, dawg (Dawg)\nI ride for my niggas\nStay schemin', niggas tryna get at me, dawg\nI ride for my niggas\nStay schemin', niggas tryna get at me, dawg\nI ride for my niggas\n\nDamn, life's so short\nFuck it, I don't wanna go to court (Huh!)\nFuck it, got a budget for the lawyer, though\nFuck it, I'm on the run for the month (Woo!)\nI'm in the bucket, paid 200 for it\nMy lil' niggas thuggin', even got me paranoid (Huh!)\nI'm gettin' money, that's in any nigga category\nDouble M, I got Gs out in California (Huh!)\nMaybach Music\n\nI ride for my niggas, dawg\nI ride for my niggas\nI slide for my niggas, dawg (Dawg)\nI ride for my niggas\nStay schemin' (Yeah), niggas tryna get at me, dawg\n(Young Frankie Geechi Liberace, yeah)\nI ride for my niggas\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nIt bothers me when the gods get to actin' like the broads\nGuess every team doesn't come complete with niggas like ours\nThat's why I see no need to compete with niggas like y'all\nI just ask that when you see me you speak up, nigga, that's all\nDon't be duckin' like you never wanted nothin'\nIt's feelin' like rap changed, it was a time it was rugged\nBack when if a nigga reached it was for the weapon\nNowadays niggas reach just to sell they record\nSpaghetti bolognese in the Polo Lounge\nMe and my G from D.C., that's how I roll around\nMight look light, but we heavy though\nYou think Drake will pull some shit like that? You never know\nMillion-dollar meetings in a Polo Lounge\nMe and my man Oliver North, that's how I roll around\nShawty wanna tell me secrets 'bout a rap nigga\nI tell that bitch it's more attractive when you hold it down\nKobe 'bout to lose a hundred fifty Ms\nKobe my nigga, I hate it had to be him\nBitch, you wasn't with me shootin' in the gym\n(Huh! Bitch, you wasn't with me shootin' in the gym)\nTell Lucian I said \"fuck it,\" I'm tearin' holes in my budget\nBag her like we in Publix, and take her ass out in public\nOrdered her the filet, told 'em, \"Butterfly it, she'll love it.\"\nShe used to soda and nuggets, she really just out here thuggin'\nI'm just hittin' my pinnacle, you and pussy identical\nYou like the fuckin' finish line; we can't wait to run into you\nBut let me get my mind off that\nYoung rich motherfucker gettin' mine off rap, with my niggas (Huh!)\nI ride for my niggas, dawg\nI ride for my niggas (Maybach Music)\nI slide for my niggas, dawg (Dawg)\nI ride for my niggas\nStay schemin', niggas tryna get at me, dawg\nI ride for my niggas\n\nFrom the hoopty coupe to that Ghost, dawg (Huh)\nPigeons on the roof like Ghost Dog (Huh)\nDwight Howard on the post, dawg (Huh)\nMy niggas got the powder through the post, dawg (Huh)\nWatch the body tilt when you hit the head (Huh)\nNiggas lost mills tryna beat the feds (Huh)\nTen grams off my last 250 now (Huh)\nBig-ass crib, 250 down, damn!\nGave my nigga Max 7-5 (Huh)\nThen gave my nigga Penthouse another 30 (Huh)\nFuck it, got me thinkin' like I'm 7-5 (Huh)\nDamn, nigga ain't even seen 30\n\nHuh, I ride for my niggas, dawg\nI ride for my niggas (Maybach Music)\nI slide for my niggas, dawg (Dawg)\nI ride for my niggas\nStay schemin', niggas tryna get at me, dawg\nI ride for my niggas\nMaybach Music"}
{"text":"Diced pineapple\nTonight you shall reach a height that the sky won't catch you\nThe highest form of my admiration\nI ain't no connoisseur but I'm, kinda sure you will admire my taste\nAnd before the sun graze ya, I'm tryin to see how deep you are\nAnd believe me shorty I ain't talking 'bout no intimate conversation\nI wanna see if I can make you reach things unobtainable\nWhen I peek into your nature\nAnd I promise you my goals will exceed any physical pleasure\nI wanna, give you what's better than better\nThe better my effort, the wetter her treasure\nThe more these mere moments seem like heavens or, temporary forevers\nShorty get it together, hah, diced pineapple\nMay your love come down so my mind might have you\nYou designed my imagination\nLet me redefine foreplay 'til you need five and\nTell me shorty you got it baby\nIf it's not it baby, hope it's progress baby\nLet it all drip baby\nIf you stop that shaking, no more talking baby\nNo more talking baby\n\nShorty so fine, pussy so fresh\nDiced pineapples, damn, my baby tastes the best\nI nearly lost my mind, guess it was a test\nSwept her off her feet and went and bought her ass a Lex\nPaid it off cash so I never wrote a check\nLeave my cars at her crib, I'm just stuntin' on her ex\nPussy's excellent and I know it sound a mess\nI love to make her toes curl as I'm lickin' on her flesh (ugh)\nSex all night, couple shots of C\u00ceROC\nCrib on the water, got LeBron up the block\nMoney ain't the thing, baby, welcome to the mob\nDiced pineapples, talking diamonds by the jar\nBitch so bad got me wishing I could sing\nHer uniform Isabel Marant when you on the team\nDouble MG, them other niggas fell off\nBaby girl, I just wanna see you well off\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nCall me crazy, shit at least you're calling\nFeels better when you let it out, don't it girl?\nKnow it's easy to get caught up in the moment\nWhen you say it 'cause you mad then you take it all back\nThen we fuck all night 'til things get right\nThen we fuck all night 'til things get right, aww yeah\n\nShorty so fine, pussy so fresh\nDiced pineapples, I just bought my girl a set\nI know my lifestyle wild, I do it for the set\nShe know how to make me smile and she do it with the sex\nPop bottles, make love, Thug Passion\nRed bottoms, Moncler, high fashion\nBelt buckles, door handles, gold plated\nBalmain, rich denim, out in Vegas\nFrench Riviera, baby girl lets take a trip\nI'ma trip go to Cannes, France to catch a flick\nBaby listen, this position is a blessing\nAnd with your permission, hopefully you'll learn a lesson (ugh)\nI'm so fly that I shouldn't even walk\nShe so fine she ain't even gotta talk\nDiced pineapples, talking diamonds by the jar\nShe never wrote a song but I know that she's a star\nCall me crazy, shit at least you're calling\nFeels better when you let it out, don't it girl?\nKnow it's easy to get caught up in the moment\nWhen you say it 'cause you mad then you take it all back\nThen we fuck all night 'til things get right\nThen we fuck all night 'til things get right, aww yeah\n\nSomething about her, probably can't live without her\nRoll up some sour, let me kiss on her fountain\nMission accomplished, you increasing your heart rate\nAnd I won't ever rest, we meet at the peak of your mountain\nEager to show you, thinking that I should know you\nAnd you eager to work perfect, I can employ you\nDesigner shit spoil you, rub you down with the oil\nTo get on a higher tree, gonna have to climb a sequoia\nHol' up, showing off some Agent Provocateur\nRushing you out your drawers though patiently get you off\nHate when they be too anxious though, hate when they be too dull\nLike to go deep but I hate to get too deeply involved\nHow sweet is you? (sweet is you?) Let me see some proof\nFuck making pussy talk, I like to make it sing a tune\nAll we need is we, we don\u2019t need no room\nRight now I\u2019m trying to eat, and we don\u2019t need a spoon\nCall me crazy, shit at least you\u2019re calling\nFeels better when you let it out, don't it girl?\nKnow it's easy to get caught up in the moment\nWhen you say it cause you mad then you take it all back\nThen we fuck all night 'til things get right\nThen we fuck all night 'til things get right, aww yeah"}
{"text":"\nMasterminds! We gon' get this forever\nYou know whenever we link up, my nigga\nThey think this shit comes from outer space or something, haha\nNigga, let\u2019s get this money nigga, woo, woo\nMasterminds, R-O-C, double M-G!\nJay, I got it, I got it\n\nFour stacks for the heels on my bitch feet\nCar seats still smelling like 10 ki's\nTell the plug that I'm lookin' for an increase\nWingstop, fat boy need a 10 piece\nSay a nigga name and the car start\nNigga switching lane to lane like Wal-Mart\nSippin' Bordeaux out in Bordeaux\nHazard lights flashing on the four-door\nSwitch the Benzo for the Enzo\nBack to the Benzo when the ends low\nSwitch my old bitch for my new bitch\nCause my new bitch something like a nympho\nFuck the game raw when I came in it\nGetting money ever since I came in it\nYou couldn't stop me if you tried\nMotherfucker cause the devil is a lie\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nBig guns and big whips\nRich nigga talkin' big shit\nDouble cup, gold wrist\nDouble up on that blow, bitch!\nTwo mill' on that I-95\nBow your head cause it's time to pay tithes\nOpposition want me dead or alive\nMotherfucker, but the devil is a lie\nThe devil is a lie, bitch I'm the truth\nThe devil is a lie, bitch I'm the proof\nThe devil is a lie, the devil is a lie\nBitch I'm alive, the devil is a lie\n\nTwo kings on the big screen\nNiggas seen a 36 at 16\n100K for the 16\nNigga's stick dirty but his dick clean\nMy money goin' on the deep end\nTalkin' half a milli' for the weekend\nContract like a nigga play defense\nCurtains in the Maybach bitch peek in\nNow the bitches wanna car hop\n6 cribs for the cars in the car lot\nDope boys on the goal nigga\nWent gold 6 times for a gold digger\nBlack bottle and a bad bitch\nClub Armani where the cash is\nDubai I can do it like a sheikh\nTop floor nigga, Burj Khalifa!\nBig guns and big whips\nRich nigga talkin' big shit\nDouble cup, gold wrist\nDouble up on that blow, bitch!\nTwo mill' on that I-95\nBow your head cause it's time to pay tithes\nOpposition want me dead or alive\nMotherfucker, but the devil is a lie\nThe devil is a lie, bitch I'm the truth\nThe devil is a lie, bitch I'm the proof\nThe devil is a lie (I got 'em, Ricky!)\nThe devil is a lie\nBitch I'm alive, the devil is a lie\nIs it truth or it's fiction, is it truth or it's fiction?\nIs Hova atheist? I never fuck with True Religion\nAm I down with the devil 'cause my roof come up missin'?\nIs that Lucifer juice in that two cup he sippin'?\nThat's D'usse baby welcome to the dark side\nCoulda got blacklist for the crack shit\nWhite Jesus in my crock pot\nI mix the shit with some soda\nNow I'm black Jesus turn water to wine\nAnd all I had to do was turn the stove up\nBeast Coast, winnin' at life, nigga, cheat code\nThe hatin' is flagrant, hit your free throws\nThe devil try to hit me with the RICO, them black people\nDevil want these niggas hate they own kind\nGotta be Illuminati if a nigga shine\nOh we can't be a nigga if a nigga rich?\nOh we gotta be the devil that's some nigga shit\nYou seen what I did to the stop and frisk\nBrooklyn on the Barney's like we own the bitch\nGive the money to the hood, now we all win\nGot that Barney's floor lookin' like a VIM\nBlack hoodie, black skully\nBravado like Mavado, boy I'm that gully\nGettin white money but I'm still black\nAll these niggas claiming king but I'm still that\nKing Hova, Mansa Musa\nFrom a lie, the devil is a lie, I'm the truth, yeah\nBig guns and big whips\nRich nigga talkin' big shit\nDouble cup, gold wrist\nDouble up on that blow, bitch!\nTwo mill' on that I-95\nBow your head cause it's time to pay tithes\nOpposition want me dead or alive\nMotherfucker, but the devil is a lie\nThe devil is a lie, bitch I'm the truth\nThe devil is a lie, bitch I'm the proof\nThe devil is a lie, the devil is a lie\nBitch I'm alive, the devil is a lie"}
{"text":"There's a field with angels movin' around me\nI just worship thee, for all he's done for me\nIt's a new day, I have been born again\nI've been born again, I've been born again\nIn His spirit, and His name, I'm sanctified!\nLord I testify, he's right by my side\nI believe it be, His word is so clear to me\nYeah, yeah\nAll I want's a hundred million dollars and a bad bitch\nPlus that paper chasin', it done turn me to a savage\nGroupies in the lobby, they just tryna get established\nGod, I've been guilty, fornicatin' from my status\nAll I wanted was a hundred million dollars and a bad bitch\nPlus that paper chasin', it had turned me to a savage\nGroupies in the lobby they just tryna get established\nGod, I've been guilty, fornicatin' from my status\n\nNiggas be lovin' the old Ye\nThey sayin' the new Ye, that nigga be spazzin'\nBut when Ali turn up and be Ali\nYou can't ever change that nigga back to Cassius\nSo you can gon' and make up lies, but I'm so sanctified\nI don't sweat it, wipe my forehead with a handkerchief\nAnd wash my sins in the blood of Jesus (Hunt)\nPeople sayin', \"Ye, we need another Yeezus\" (Hunt)\nLames try to tell me, \"Cut the wildin' out, out\"\nBut who the fuck is you reachin'?\nPass me 30 bottles, champagne procession\nThat's that Holy water, sanctified refreshments\nGod sent me a message, said I'm too aggressive\nReally!? Me!? Too aggressive!?\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI can feel his blessings wash away my sins\nI'm sanctified and, I have been born again\nNow I proclaim, hallowed be thy name\nOhhh\nAll I want's a hundred million dollars and a bad bitch\nPlus that paper chasin', it done turn me to a savage\nGroupies in the lobby, they just tryna get established\nGod, I've been guilty, fornicatin' from my status\n\nKeys to my success, I get new keys and new address\nBitches that I date don't get degrees but they can dress\nFellatio's amazin', make grilled cheese for you, the best\nMajor cult figure, I'm the fresh David Koresh\nSoldiers all in gators, new Mercedes for cadets\nBalmain uniform, you know Donda designed the vest\nDouble M, that be the Army, better yet, the Navy\nBaby seen me in that Wraith, wanna have my baby\nAll I wanted was a hundred million dollars and a bad bitch\nNow I want two hundred and m\u00e9nage in my palace\nWalkin' out the jeweler with no mothafuckin' balance\nSomewhere in Jamaica I'm still holdin' on my chalice\nRims on my Ferrari, my bitch said that I was childish\n'Til I fuck a girl, that girl tweeted that I was stylish\nWhen we fucked again, she told me \"That was just some foul shit\"\nI walk into the room, you can even hear all the silence\nI can feel his blessings wash away my sins\nI'm sanctified and, I have been born again\nNow I proclaim, hallowed be thy name\nOhhh"}
{"text":"Oh\nLet's pull the two-seater out baby\nIt's where ever you wanna go!\nJ.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n\nRiding to the music, this is how we do it (all night), all night\nBreezing down the freeway just me and my baby, in our ride\nJust me and my boss, no worries at all\nListening to the Aston Martin Music, Music\n\nWould've came back for you\nI just needed time to do what I had to do\nCaught in the life I can't let it go\nWhether that's right I will never know\nUh, but here goes nothing\n\nWhen I'm alone in my room sometime I stare at the wall\nAutomatic weapons on the floor, but who can you call?\nMy down bitch, one who live by the code\nPut this music shit aside get it in on the road\nA lot of quiet time pink bottles of rose\nExotic red bottoms whole body glittered in gold\nFollowing fundamentals and following in the rental\nI love a nasty girl who swallow what's on the menu\nThat money triple up when ya get it out of state\nI need a new safe cause I'm running out of space\nElroy Jetson: I'm somewhere out in space\nIn my two-seater she's the one that I would take, wee\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nRiding to the music, this is how we do it (all night), all night\nBreezing down the freeway just me and my baby, in our ride\nJust me and my boss, no worries at all\nListening to the, Aston Martin Music, Music\n\nWould've came back for you\nI just needed time to do what I had to do\nCaught in the life I can't it let it go\nWhether that's right I will never know\nUh, but here goes nothing\n\nPull up on the block in a drop-top chicken box\nMr. KFC, VVS's in the watch\nLiving fast where it's all about that money bag\nNever front, you take it there, it ain't no coming back\nTop down right here is where she wanna be\nAs my goals unfold right in front of me\nEvery time we fuck her soul take a hold of me\nAddicted like Pookie that pussy be controlling me\nThat thing keep calling\nFuck maintain boy: I gotta keep ballin!\nPink bottles keep coming\nJames Bond coupe pop clutch 100\nRiding to the music, this is how we do it (all night), all night\nBreezing down the freeway just me and my baby, in our ride\nJust me and my boss, no worries at all\nListening to the Aston Martin Music, Music\n\nWould've came back for you\nI just needed time, to do what I had to do\nCaught in the life, I can't let it go, whether that's right, I will never know\nHoping you will forgive me, never meant wrong\nTried to be patient, waited too long\nBut I would've came back, but I would've came back\nWould've came back, would've came back\nWould've came\n\nI talk slicker than a pimp from Augusta\nWho just had his linen suit dry-cleaned, bitches, what\u2019s up witcha?\nI hate callin' the women bitches, but the bitches love it\nI took some sense and made a nickel of it\nI'm urgin' all daughters to kiss they mothers\nWith those lips that all that lipstick covers\nYou're never too grown up to miss and hug her\nAnd girls countin' on me to be there like missin' rubbers\nI'm on some Marvin Gaye shit, a bunch of distant lovers\nThis ain't the life that I'm used to\nReintroduced to people I've been introduced to\nDid you forget me?\nOr are you too scared to tell me that you met me\nAnd fear that I won't remember\nI wish you could still accept me for me\nI miss Memphis, Tennessee, my cousins, my dad\nThe simplistic beauty that all of them Southerners have\nI'm halfway across the world with dozens of bags\nFeelin' like all four members of Color Me Badd\nIn one nigga, amazing shit\nI got that Courtney Love for you, that crazy shit\nI don't drink every bottle I own, I be agin' shit\nAnd I got them wedding ring flows, that engagin' shit\nWhich one of y'all got fleets on your keychains?\nThe seats for these Heat games?\nI really think you stare at yourself and you see things\nLa Familia, I've been inducted and instructed\nTo stunt on these niggas we don't really fuck with\nFuck is up?\nHavin' lunch and debatin' Ferrari prices\nTwenty-three and goin' through a midlife crisis\nBut trust me, I still deliver like a midwife\nAnd no, I'm not sayin' I'm the nicest, I just live life like it\nUh, it take a certain type of man to teach\nTo be far from hood, but to understand the streets\nI never threw away that paper with my Grammy speech\nBecause I haven't hit the pinnacles I plan to reach\nYeah, you gotta own it if you want it\nKisses all on her body, she tells me live in the moment\nAnd, baby, I'll never forget none of that\nGirl, I told you I was coming back\nAston Martin Music, Music\nAston Martin Music, Music"}
{"text":"I don't got a single sober vein in my body\nI don't got a single sober vein in my body\n\nDon't apologize, I quite enjoy messy\nI see that bottle after bottle got you goin' crazy\nAnd doin' shows after shows got me so lazy\nSo ride it out for me, and take it off for me\nIt's a good vibe, good vibe, good vibe\nDon't you ever threaten niggas with a good time\nShe wanna buy a dream, I said I don't sell it\nBut she can rent it for a night, I don't mind, open wide\n'Cause all this fame, I earned it, I might as well use it\nPrivate elevator goin' straight to my unit\nAll my niggas 'round me, gettin' kickback pussy\nAll my killas 'round me, all be hiding in Stussy\nCan't nobody stop me, used to be homeless\nNow that penthouse at the Ritz where my home is\nTour bus like a National Geographic\nBitches runnin' wild gettin' faded in the bathroom\n\nIt makes me smile, it makes me smile\n'Cause I got it\nIt makes me smile, it makes me smile\n'Cause I got it\nAll the pain, sweat and tears, just to get a piece\nBut now we got it\nMan look at the kid now, can nobody stop me?\nI don't got a single sober vein in my body\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nFuck her like a thug nigga, young nigga, new Ferrari\nOld money, I just 'fraid the Lord with us\nCondo blow money, like it's all dope money\nCome short wet niggas, like a speed boat coming, oh Lord\nMo money, mo money, these rich young niggas ain't ever know money\nBelaire running down the Rollie on her arm\nPinky ring six-hundred, what you know about it\nI'm the champ, baby, Real Deal Holyfield\nGot the bitches, want it dirty, went and bought the crib\n25 mil, I'm doing 25-to-life\nEvery chandelier ran a nigga, one-mil\n20 chandeliers motherfucker who real\nI just wanna show her what I live like\nWearing a white Birkin on a winter night\nFuck a Birkin, now she in the Bentley\nThat's when she went and tatted double M G\nNow our bond deep, deeper than the rap\nShe give me brain she a mastermind to be exact\nShe a mastermind to be exact\nI give her game and she give it back\nSip syrup so I fuck slow, sip more I wanna fuck more\nGotta grind 'till your eyes close,\nStay strapped 'till the trap close\nThey scream Maybach on the cell blocks\nAll my dawgs who used to sell blocks\nThey say the niggas in the jail talk\nHow your homies commissary fell off\nWhat make it worse he get an elbows\n25-to-life dead wrong on the cell phone\nIt makes me smile, it makes me smile\n'Cause I got it\nIt makes me smile, it makes me smile\n'Cause I got it\nAll the pain, sweat and tears, just to get a piece\nBut now we got it\nMan look at the kid now, can nobody stop me?\nI don't got a single sober vein in my body"}
{"text":"Yeah\nI'm home now, it's over now, so...\nYeah\n\nShe got a thing for Chanel vintage that dropped before she could speak English\nDo you love me or love seekin' attention, I mean which one is it?\nYou keep callin' me ya twin, but twins ain't this different\nMentally I'm already on next year, that's some 20\/20 clear vision\nYou sayin' let you finish, I ain't tryna hear it\nI'm all for spiritual liftin', but I don't fly Spirit\nI'm all for findin' happiness, but down to die serious\nAll smiles, Kevin Durant trials\nHad to blow it on the court, I must have blew a milli'\nI'm walkin' on all charges, that's my new Achilles\nI know they love to rock a check, but who gon' do it really? Really?\nMy depositions never surface\nTanenbaum know the logo on the jersey, it's gettin' purchased\nTen years in and y'all yet to hear my most impressive verses\nPaid the cost to be the boss wasn't even my most expensive purchase\nTrust when I say I'm never on the shit they assumin' I'm on\nTales about me are like corridos in Culiac\u00e1n\nSashimi from Saito, you know that man two Michelin Star\nPostcard from Grace Bay, sendin' my distant regards\nVision wasn't mine, told my niggas the vision was ours\nStill a part of shorty even if we've been livin' apart\nRoxx'll do you filthy for me soon as I give him the nod\nMeanin' he'll blast for me like puttin' the 6 with the God\nHop on a float to show the city the one they appointed\nThe one that's rebuildin' schools and feedin' the homeless\nHang with my niggas, but sometimes I be tryna avoid it\n'Cause they'll get to poppin' out of place like they double jointed\nGoals was the top of the pyramid in this shitty world\n\"I gotta get the most of everything\" is the axis on which it sit and twirls\nPoint blank period, like a City Girl and then I bring it back to 50 world\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nAyy, woah\nYou made me this way, yeah\nBefore I'm gone outta this place, yeah\nPut some flowers in my vase, won't you?\nLet me know that I did okay, yeah\nDon't wait 'til some other day, no, no\nThey love to wait 'til it's too late, it's too late\nThis different right here, yo\n\nI was nominated, never won a Grammy\nBut I understand, they'll never understand me\nLot of lives lost, but I never panicked\nLot of lines crossed, I never did a Xanny\nA hundred room mansion but I felt abandoned\nLove makin' love, but where will love land me?\nJealous, so their bitches be actin' like they sleepin' on us\nBut they speakin' on us, jewelers quote us even numbers\nStill blowin' smoke as angels float above us\nLove givin' back, but will they ever love us?\nChanel in the mail, FedEx from Pharrell\nAnd what I got for sale just sit on the scale\nTriple beam dream, a buck on the shades\nI really seen things give mothers the shakes\nI really bought cars for women on face\nI know it seem odd, but money amazin'\nCollege loans really did fuck up her credit\nDiscover cards, look back, I know she regret it\nBut we keep pushin', keep our foot on the pedal\nIn the mirror she a blessin', rebukin' the devil\nLivin' on the edge, she keepin' me level\nMoney come and go, I'ma keep you forever\nMoney come and go, I'ma keep you forever (Forever)\nSlip-on glass slippers and tickle with feathers\nEverywhere we go, we create a dilemma\nComing to America, really the set\nI'll let your soul glow, I'm keepin' you wet\nAll my cold Decembers, I know she remembers\nForgiveness for a sinner, but is it that simple?\nHoldin' on your hands, your body's a temple\nFly you out to Cannes, m\u00e9nages with bitches\nLobsters and the prawns, thought you was Spanish\nBottles for the Don, our parties the biggest (Biggest, biggest)\n(Maybach Music)\nAyy, woah\nYou made me this way, yeah\nBefore I'm gone outta this place, yeah\nPut some flowers in my vase, won't you?\nLet me know that I did okay, yeah\nDon't wait 'til some other day, no, no\nThey love to wait 'til it's too late, too late (Ayy)\n\nHad a dream she was singin' to me like Gladys Knight\nTrue love in the projects is called paradise\nAll your niggas left, you wasn't actin' right\nBut honesty itself a small sacrifice\nMy money bag heavy, got me packin' light\nYou movin' funny, can you fill my appetite?\nNiggas' conversations, a lot of it false\nHe own condos right over Carnegie Hall\nSpeak about your cars, but all of 'em parked\nYour niggas' money light, come out of the dark\nYou really are my type, that's not a facade\nOne of the reasons why I write, we got a synopsis\nI'm always at the top of barbershop gossip\nAfter further thought, better not knock 'em\nAllocate some dollars to go out shoppin'\nBitch, we on the real, it's time to stop talkin' (Stop talkin', stop talkin')\nAyy, woah\nYou made me this way, yeah\nBefore I'm gone outta this place, yeah\nPut some flowers in my vase, won't you?\nLet me know that I did okay, yeah\nDon't wait 'til some other day, no, no\nThey love to wait 'til it's too late, too late (Ayy)"}
{"text":"If Michael Jackson came alive right now\nHe'd ask you to smoke one for him\nSo in his honor\n\nYou niggas Spud Webb, coming up short\nThink you're Dee Brown, jump if you want\nI put it on my momma and her very last nerve\nRicky Madoff everything I deserve\nThe square root of a kilo is me nigga\nThe square root of a kilo is me nigga\nDo the math, I'm a motherfucking G nigga\nIt's all on me now, as you can see now\nI'm gon' get this money and I will not be denied\nBeen shittin' on you fucks a long time, time to pee now\nWhen you finish first they hate you worse, startin to see now\nI'm at the round table, where your seat at?\nWhere your plate, where your lobster, where your sea bass?\nWe ain't never left, acting like we back\nYou should see us now taking pictures acting like we rap\nThis the circle that'll murk you, blackout, short circuit\nSomebody show them square ass niggas the first exit\nThis here reserved for soldiers most definitely\nSo watch what you say and where you step more carefully\nIf I fall in the field and ain't no more air for me\nPour some on the ground and put one in the air for me\nTell my enemies fuck 'em, they know already but fuck 'em\nTell 'em again with a middle finger and a chuckle\nYou don't know nann nigga, nope, uh uh\nThis famous that'll still throw copper\nCross so heavy crack the tabernacle\nFire the ganja back up\nThrow some blow in my tobacco\nThen crank the Lac up\nOne match left, this the last turn\nSanteria candles in my sanctuary burn\nI'mma earn 'til the last court adjourn\n'Til the last gavel drop we gon' have it locked\nWe gon' have it locked\nWe gon' have it locked\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI'm part of the small percentage of niggas who make it out the ghetto\nBut niggas tried to pull me back cause misery loves company\nIt's funny how they come for me when they see me living comfortably\nBut when I was broke and sleeping on floors they ain't want nothing from me\nMy future's so bright but my past so ugly\nAnd I just try to correct it all but it all still haunts me\nTried to section off the past but it still haunts me\nSo I accept what got me here, reflecting in this rocking chair\nAll this space created, all that hard work it got me here\nSo what I look like telling a nigga that I shouldn't be here\nPower to the people so the people shouldn't live in fear\nAnd I'll be that raising voice and tell the people treat us fair\nWarring in the streets tell them soldiers to meet us there\nOut in the open all alone, I felt the coldest air\nSecluded in my thoughts in fear\nNo one to talk to, no one there\nNot even a voice, not even an ear\nNo one alive, no one to care\nNow I got a power circle, now I'm on a power trip\nAnd they calling me counterfeit cause I ain't gave a coward shit\nStone me, throw me a pile of shit but you won't pull me out of it\nIt's funny how it comes full circle\nNow they wanna be a part of the power circle\nThey wanna be a part of the power circle\nMay the wind be at your back\nMay the bad be in your past\nMay the kids take all your good\nAnd your wife have class\nAnd you realize your goals\nAnd what's life without grind\nThose niggas, yo' niggas?\nHope those niggas real as mine\nMay the wind be at your back\nMay the bad be in your past\nMay the kids take all your good\nAnd your wife have class\nAnd you realize your goals\nAnd what's life without grind\nThose niggas, yo' niggas?\nHope those niggas real as mine\n\nThere's a difference between underrated and hasn't made it\nOnce you successful they relentlessly giving you hatred\nThere's no applause for ya and success is hard for ya\nThere's enemies, envy, with green my niggas -- lawnmower\nAnd I'm on tour, Jordan 4's, Tom Ford\nAnd I ain't thugging, they clapping at me, a encore\nGot a dark heart, bright mind, make women crazy\nI give her D, I throw up two, I call that shit a safety\nShit is crazy when entertainment ain't entertaining\nAnd my inner sanctum need real estate I'm out my cabeza\nJealousy's for the weak, you ain't happy I made it\nI be feeling like brother Malcolm just out of the Nation\nAllah got us cause if we hollered a lost numbers\nI seen hustlers turn cluckers out niggas grandmothers\nSo shut the fuck up and listen, fuck all them stuck up musicians\nMy circle small but regardless, my circumference official\nMy clothes different like quarterbacks at a closed scrimmage\nThey gon' blitz us but ain't no way that they gon' hit us\nI'm so elusive, so my niggas be goin' through it\nGuess it's a wrap when your co-defendant make soul music\nCash rule the world -- at least it do with girls\nAt least it do with churches, seek the truth and true it hurts\nIf they real, then they real -- my niggas deserve it\nAnd we don't deal with weak squares in this power circle\nWe don't deal with weak squares in this power circle\nI'm like welcome to the power circle\nI came a long way, I started with a powdered circle\nClique full of real niggas that'll probably murk you\nCause they about that murder game you do a lot of verbal\nLotta talking, lotta Tweeting, 'til you hear that chopper speaking\nKill my dog, I kill your dog, we tied even, I'd believe it\nIf you see it then you got it, nigga never give up\nCause if you grindin' you gon' be rich before you can look up\nMy cousin Knock told me never teach niggas to cook up\nCause you can sell 'em hard for the low and give 'em the hookup\nAnd still make the profit\nThe streets say I'm the hottest and a nigga still modest\nI'm just being honest\nBack to the wall, never let 'em get behind us\nMac in my draws fitting right in my designers\nLook at my persona, I dreamed it, woke up and conquered\nAnd there was commas after commas, I eat 'em like Benihanas\nPut the shrimp over the pasta, the pasta over the lobster\nAnd the lobster over the table, power circle a mafia\nJust talkin' money, talkin' money what you talkin' bout?\nProbably talkin' bout us, we the only thing to talk about\nCause we the only thing to talk about\nCause we the only thing to talk about\n\nLook inside the eyes of the last Mohicans survived\nYou won't last a weekend outside\nSeen a pastor tweaking, then sunk his teeth in a rock his demise\nLater on that evening you heard the grieving of angels that cried\nSee a demon don't compromise\nAnd so I walk alone with a cross and a diamond stone\nI'm a diamond inside the rough that's too mighty for maricons\nI might as well put all my killers in YSL\nPut my voice on this microphone, put you pussy niggas through hell\nHell's fire, I never lie, you will never grind\nI know the priors they running by us when we do crime\nI know that section eight wanna discontinue my Moms\nWhen they heard that Ohio State gave me 30 racks in July\nOh Lord, this can't be life, no it can't be life\nWhen they day breaks and you earned them stripes\nAnd you learned that strike\nFrom upstate will adjourn that life and confirm that life\nIt's good bait for the warden that might get awarded and write\nNow your fate can record it denied a reporter replied\nThe death rate will eventually climb, so eventually I'm\nOn a track race for the dough before time get a clock that resigns\nSo about face if it ain't business, I get offended, I mind\nNow one fake, I'm a realist in strive, I'm a billion in five\nWell a billion cause the limit is the sky and I live on cloud nine\nAnd I recognize my nemesis gon' try to put a finish in my shine\nBut pussy, we'll hurt you\nLife in the power circle\n\nRegardless of how it goes down\nLife goes on, am I right?\nTried to warn you niggas\nI tried to warn you niggas\nIt's too late now\nDouble M-G\nToo much cake\nToo much power\nToo much respect\nBow down, nigga\nUgh!"}
{"text":"Yo this Chris Rock! I'm in here with my man Ricky Rozay. We in here drinkin' this Belaire Ros\u00e9. That's how we do it. That's all we do, Belaire Ros\u00e9! Eatin' Wingstop, what you know about Wingstop, nigga? You don't know nothin' about no Wingstop. You can't handle this, nigga, you can't handle, sit down in the corner, shut the fuck up and take notes, bitch. Just take notes\n\nI used to see niggas on TV, man\nI used to be like, \"Yo, them niggas so blessed\"\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\nIf I had that opportunity, you know what I'm sayin'?\n(Maybach Music)\n(Black Metaphor)\n\nDamn, I grew up on that Cash Money\nBling bling, was well known to flash money\nHit the liquor store, after my Vic authority\nQuick to switch a bitch up, pick up me a thicker shorty\nPistol on me, nigga, ain't no pickin' on me\nWe veterans so it's better if you go get your army\nA thug holiday is where your body lay\nMe and Trick Daddy come from a common place\nSo us gettin' money, that's just a conversation\nIt's so hard stayin' rich and miss the confrontations\nCigars in the Oval Office, Ronald Reagan\nHug Barack Obama, whisper, \"As-sal\u0101mu \u02bfalaykum\"\nLive for the moment, die for the streets\nBible on the dash, kilos on the seat\nI used to see you niggas on my TV screen\nAnd wondered what was life like, was it all a dream?\nAnd then I met you out on LiveNation dates\nCame to the realization that your watch was fake\nDamn... you nearly broke my heart\nI really thought you niggas really owned them cars\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI used to look up to you, nigga\nUgh\n\nHard to point a finger when you live a life of sin\nI'ma bring my niggas with me if I lose or win\nBought a fleet of cars, let the bitches tag along\nThis little thing of ours, not the ones to tattle on\nOmerta the code, Met Ball, parties with Vogue\nStill blowin' thick smoke while you powder your nose\nSuch a head rush until the day the feds rush\nThat's when you niggas wish you put your bread up\nLeased whips, bad blood, that shit'll sink ships\nFast money comin' slow, you better think quick\nRap game, so much fuck shit done\nThat's why this .45 in my Trukfit trunks\nFuck a skateboard, I went and got a Wraith, boy\nCatholic record labels, niggas gettin' raped, boy\nBirdman's a priest, moans in his synagogue\nPublishin' is a sin, repent, forgive me, Lord\nShots fired, home invasion out on Palm Isle\nRed beam detonators, who the bomb now?\nLook you in your eyes, nigga, 'fore I say good night\nAnd pray that Mannie Fresh'll get to see the light\nDamn, Stunna\nI loved you, nigga\nHate it came to this\n(Maybach Music)\n\nYou stole them boys' pub' and bought a foreclosure\nScott Storch demons in it, which is more poison\nI handed over records, never charged a coin\nBut could sense the sentiment, I'm talkin' all along\nAll Miami issues, Rozay handle for him\nSame way Big Ducky do for me in California\nNever slippin', got relationships with the trillest niggas\nTony Draper, J Prince and every Jimmy Henchmen\nPlenty killers and I know that Diddy with it\nTyga, chinchilla, really ain't no penny pinchin'\nKnew that you would never visit BG\nTurk came home, take that boy a three piece\nShootin' dope, usin' coke, movin' like you the Folks\nSacrificin' half our life for your new music cult\nYou would give us self esteem and motivate our drive\nBut was in our pockets by the time we count to five\nI pray you find the kindness in your heart for Wayne\nHis entire life, he gave you what there was to gain\nI watched this whole debacle so I'm part to blame\nLast request, can all producers please get paid?\nCan't believe this shit, homie\nI still love you, nigga\nHow the fuck, nigga, you touch half a billion, nigga\nAnd your team starvin', nigga?\nYou on an island, nigga, you came to my city, nigga\nI let you in my city, nigga\nAnd what hurt me the most, nigga\nIs how you did my brother Khaled, nigga\nKhaled was loyal to you, nigga\nThe pain I seen in my brother's eye, nigga\nFaceTimin' my nigga, nigga, he took that to the chin, nigga\nThat's why my nigga blessed!\nThat's why my nigga Khaled blessed!\nYou put my nigga in the hole, homie\nI don't feel you for that, my nigga\nThat shit hurt me, you under-dig? Umm\nIt's painful what you see real niggas do\nWhen they get the paper, when they get the bag\nYou can't never forget 'bout lil bruh and them\nI'll never forget 'bout lil bruh and them\nLil bruh and them, always remember\nLil bruh and them, this for lil bruh and them\nStunna"}
{"text":"J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\nHuh! This is special\nExtremely special\n\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nOoh, yeah\nAw yeah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nOoh, yeah\nAw yeah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah\n\nIt's funny because, it's been on my mind lately\nHaving a dope beat, a dope idea\nSixteen bars ain't enough!\nHow the fuck, can I squeeze my whole life into a sixteen-bar verse?\nYou know, so many different levels, to living your life and\nDepicting, with your wordplay\nExactly what life means to you, and sixteen ain't enough\nI know y'all gonna feel me on this one\nYou gotta feel me on this one, huh!\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nIt's funny how things change, funny how time fly\nMore than my feet travel, the more that I feel fly\nMore that I make now, the more that the chicks smile\nShe call me a local nigga, I opened a Swiss account\nEisenhower status, Etta James on the dash\nSmooth as John Coltrane cruising in the Cadillac\nSeville, feel my life on the real\nWe the Last Poets so this is a world premiere\nRolling like Mick Jagger, the women just getting badder\nAll I see is the money, cream, Eric Clapton\nAnd all I wanted was one, sixteen ain't enough\nTalking that fast money, fifteen every month\nWhen your people labelled poor, that motivated me more\nEverything I ever wore was once worn before\nRoll with the punches now it's box office numbers\nDressed like Sammy Davis, steaming my marijuana\nDouble M G's, double M fees\nWe in every hood, nigga: government cheese\nYacht to Yachtmasters, Ol' Dirty Bastard\nFloor seat for the Heat, paper that I'm stackin\nBetter put away a penny for the rainy days\nPick and roll, give and go, fuck a fade away\nLiving like Scottie Pippen, dribble riddles for vittles\nStarted off with a scribble, now I'm flowing a river\nShe say my heart cold, I'm naming my son December\nWhitney died night before the Grammys \u2013 damn, what a memory\nTrump Tower and I started with a 10 speed\nBorn broke, had to use a nigga's instincts\nNow I get a hundred racks for the sixteen\nWaking up to turkey bacon and my thick queen\nNiggas hating, I'm just watching on the big screen\nThree Stacks on the beat and the kicks mean\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nOoh, yeah\nAw yeah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nOoh, yeah\nAw yeah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah\nYou know how sometimes you got so much to say but\nThey on-, they only give you sixteen? Hehehe\nMan it's like, I mean, I got so much to say\nThe world has said so much to me\nAnd I just wanna give right back to 'em, you know?\nBut, I only get sixteen, that's like a cage, you know?\nI really can't say what I wanna say, you know?\nIt's just a glimpse, that's all\nJust one uh, one little single glimpse, just a page\nBut I guess I'm defeating the purpose of doing all this talking\nAight\n\nSummer '88, or was it '89?\nOr was it wintertime? Aw never mind\nI'm in my room, booming\nDrawin' LL Cool J album covers with Crayolas on construction paper\nI'm tryna fuck my neighbor, I'm tryna hook my waves up\nI'm tryna pull my grades up, to get them saddle lace ups\nBefore lil' Marc was Jacob, before them girls wore makeup\nBefore my voice would break up, before we'd tour them shake clubs\nBefore my mama wake up, before my crumbs would cake up\nBefore they tell me they love me and we'll never break up\nBefore the time she makes love to someone that I thought was my homeboy\nBut boy, was I wrong now\nI don't budge, don't want much, just a roof and a porch\nAnd a Porsche, and a horse and unfortunately but of course\nAn assortment of torches that scorches the skin\nWhen they enter, intruders whose tutors did\nA lousy job, how's he God if he lets Lucifer let loose on us?\nThat noose on us won't loosen up but loose enough to juice us up\nMake us think we do so much and do it big\nLike they don't let us win, I can't pretend\nBut I do admit, it feel good when the hood pseudo-celebrate\nHence, why every time we dine we eat until our belly aches\nThen go grab the finest wine and drink it\nLike we know which grape and which region it came from\nAs if we can name 'em; hint-hint\u2014it ain't, um, Welch's\nHell just fell three thousand more degrees cooler\nY'all can't measure my worth\nBut when you try, you'll need a ruler made by all the Greek gods\nBecause the odds have always been stacked against me when back's against the wall\nI feel right at home, y'all sitting right at home\nAll Kellygreen with envy while I'm jelly beans descending\nInto the palm of a child, looks up at mama and smile\nWith such a devilish grin, like \"Where the hell have you been?\"\nShe's yelling, \"Selling\u2019s a sin,\" well, so is telling young men\nThat selling is a sin if you don\u2019t offer new ways to win\nA dolphin gon' shake his fin, regardless if he gets in\nOr out of water, most important thing for him is to swim\nAnd Flipper didn\u2019t hold his nose, so why shall I hold my tongue?\nI miss the days of old when one could hold his gal on his arm\nAnd not set off these alarms, when cameras snap-snap-snap\nReturn fire, pap-pap-pap pap pap-pap pap pap\nThey\u2019ll learn why, mere privacy, so essential\nThey won't make no laws, I break their laws 'til they see out our window\nI take the fall to make them all treat human kind more gentle\nForsake them all, I hate them all, don\u2019t like em, don\u2019t pretend to\nYeah something tells me, we ain\u2019t in Kansas anymore\nAll that shit that used to be cool ain\u2019t cool anymore\nAll them women we were pursuing, now they want more\nAnd they deserve it all, don\u2019t settle for what ain\u2019t yours\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nOoh (Lord!) yeah (Oh Lord!)\nAw yeah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nWhen sixteen ain't enough\nOoh, yeah (When sixteen ain't enough)\nAw yeah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah-eah (When sixteen ain't enough)\nBreakdown, breakdown\n\nDoes your mama know you see me? Does she know you're freaky?\nDoes she ever wonder if it's 'bout ya I am speaking?\nDo you ever ponder where I'm at when you get sleepy?\nHow the hell I'm gonna tell the youth don't be me? Yeah\nHahahahah, hahahah, I love it\nDoes your daddy think you perfect? Does he know for certain?\nDoes he know how you act when you pull back all them curtains?\nDo he think I'm 2Pac 'cause I'm Black and put the words in?\nDoes he know his daughter might have caught a real merman? Yeah\n\nHahahah, it's funny because, we could've short-changed you (Huh!)\nBut because we love you, we go that extra mile\nBreak it down for 'em, Andr\u00e9, huh!\n\n\nNext level, amazing"}
{"text":"89 ContributorsHustlin\u2019 Lyrics\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', hustlin', hustl\u2014\nHustlin', hustlin', hustl\u2014\nHustlin', hustlin', hustl\u2014\nHustlin', hustlin'\n\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm\u2014 every day, I'm\u2014 every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm\u2014 every day, I'm\u2014 every day, I'm hustlin'\n\nWho the fuck you think you fuckin' with? I'm the fuckin' boss\nSeven-forty-five, white-on-white, that's fuckin' Ross\nI cut 'em wide, I cut 'em long, I cut 'em fat (What?)\nI keep 'em comin' back (What?), we keep 'em comin' back\nI'm into distribution, I'm like Atlantic\nI got them motherfuckers flyin' 'cross the Atlantic (Woo!)\nI know Pablo (Pablo), Noriega (Noriega)\nThe real Noriega\u2014he owe me a hundred favors (Church)\nI ain't petty, nigga, we buy the whole thang\nSee, most of my niggas really still deal cocaine\nMy roof back (Roof back), my money right (My money right)\nI'm on the pedal, show you what I'm runnin' like\nWhen they snatched Black, I cried for a hundred nights\nHe got a hundred bodies, servin' a hundred lifes\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', e\u2014every day, I'm hustli\u2014\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', e\u2014every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm\u2014 every day, I'm\n\nWe never steal cars, but we deal hard\nWhip it real hard\u2014 whip it\u2014 whip it real hard\nI caught a charge (You caught a charge?), I caught a charge (Yeah?)\nWhip it real hard\u2014 whip it\u2014 whip it real hard\nAin't 'bout no funny shit, still bitches and business\nI'm on my money shit, still whippin' them Benzes (Woo)\nMajor league\u2014who catchin'? Because I'm pitchin' (I'm pitchin')\nJose Canseco just snitchin' because he's finished\nI feed 'em steroids to strengthen up all my chickens (My chickens)\nThey flyin' over\u2014Pacific, to be specific\nTriple C's, you know it's fact, we holdin' sacks\nSo nigga, go on, rat (Go on, rat), run and tell 'em that (Tell 'em that)\nMore cars (More cars), more hoes (More hoes)\nMore clothes (More clothes), more blow\n\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', e\u2014every day, I'm hustli\u2014\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', e\u2014every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm\u2014 every day, I'm\nIt's time to spend my thrills (Thrills), custom spinnin' wheels (Wheels)\nI ain't drove in a week\u2014them bitches spinnin' still (Still)\nTalk about me, 'cause these suckers scared to talk about me\nKillers chalkin' 'bout me (What? Chalkin'), it ain't no talk about me (What? It ain't no talk about me)\nIt ain't no walkin' 'round me (It ain't no walkin' 'round me), see all these killers 'round me?\nLot of drug-dealin' 'round me goin' down in Dade County (Whoa)\nDon't tote no (Twenty-twos), Magnum cost me (Twenty-two)\nSat it on them (Twenty-twos), birds go for (Twenty-two)\nLil' mama super thick (Thick), she say she (Twenty-two)\nShe seen 'em (Twenty-twos), we in Room (Two-twenty-two)\nI touch work, like I'm Convertible Burt (Burt)\nI got distribution, so I'm convertin' the work (Work)\nIn the (M-I-yayo) them niggas rich off (Yayo)\nSteady slangin' (Yayo), my Chevy bangin' (Ayo)\n\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', e\u2014every day, I'm hustli\u2014\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', e\u2014every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm hustlin'\nEvery day, I'm hustlin', every day, I'm\u2014 every day, I'm"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsThug Cry Lyrics\nJ.U.S.T.I.C.E. League\n\nI just wanna be the one, I just wanna be the one you love\nI just wanna be the one you run to when you're down\nI just wanna, I just wanna fly, I'ma show you tonight\nThat I'ma put it on you baby, take you past the sky\n\nUh, wake up in the world and I'm just another nigga\nCall it public housin' when you next door to the killers\nOn them corners, it gets better as you go\nGrind that motherfucker 'til it's yellow brick road\nFree as a bird, spoken word in my verse\nOn my knees prayin', niggas shootin' in the church\nWake up out my sleep in another cold sweat\nI lived on Billboard, where the fuck to go next?\nGo against the odds youngin', go and get a job\nAnother country boy they want back on the farm\nSo far from my goals but I'm close to my kids\nThug cry for Mac Dre, nigga throwin' up Thizz\n\nI just wanna be the one, I just wanna be the one you love\nI just wanna be the one you run to when you're down\nI just wanna, I just wanna fly, I'ma show you tonight\nThat I'ma put it on you baby, take you past the sky\nI just wanna burn\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nUhh, well let me light one for my problems\nSmokin' on that loud, pumpin' up that volume\nGet it crackin' like an eggshell in this motherfucker, make omelets\nGet a bad bitch that posts up like comments\nThey don't know what I been through\nDon't know what I'm goin' through\nAs long as I get through, that's what I look forward to\nRicher than a bitch, but still I can't afford to\nLet these niggas play with me, need to be remorseful\nI swear I got that silencer on that MAC-9\nYeah, I kill these niggas with silence\nMy head stay in the clouds, I really feel like a giant\nCan't trust none of these niggas, I murk one of these niggas\nThen bury one of these niggas, still got dirt under my fingers\nThat, ain't a threat, that's a bet\nCause they comin' at my neck like the best a man can get\nBut to make a long, story short, I need a shoulder\nCause the devil on one, the other one I'm lookin' over\nTunechi\n\nI just wanna be the one, I just wanna be the one you love\nI just wanna be the one you run to when you're down\nI just wanna, I just wanna fly, I'ma show you tonight\nThat I'ma put it on you baby, take you past the sky\nI just wanna burn\nUh, I pray I live forever\nNiggas hatin' like it's Salt Lake City\nNo tints on that pretty ass Bentley\nWant you to know that them comments don't offend me\nCause your baby momma so friendly\nI proceed with the plan, weed in my hand\nC\u00eeroc in my cup, quick pic for a fan\nMoney over bitches, first nigga with a Wraith\nDouble M, we handle business cause them niggas getting raped\nGo get the yellow tape, it's well orchestrated\nCame from the hood, ain't nothing changed\nStill lemon pepper on my motherfuckin' wings!\n\nI just wanna be the one, I just wanna be the one you love\nI just wanna be the one you run to when you're down\nI just wanna, I just wanna fly, I'ma show you tonight\nThat I'ma put it on you baby, take you past the sky\nI just wanna burn\n\nHuh! Mastermind\nAs I get high in the middle of the night\nSometimes I ask myself, do thugs cry?\nUhh, uhh, Mastermind, my 6th LP\nCan't believe we did it\nMan, I thank everybody that played a part of this\nShout out my engineer E-Mix\nEach and every one of you supporters\nMy fans, 100"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsSorry Lyrics\n\n(May-May-May)\nWhat is this? (May-May-May)\nMaybach Music\nI like this Maybach Music, hahahaha\n\nShe's just perfect in every kinda way\nBut I don't think I can handle her pain\nSo messed up and I'm too busy just runnin' my game\nOh, girl after girl, mistake after mistake\n\nI tried to change, but they always around pullin' me down in bed (May-May)\nGave you my word, but they were just broken promises (Uh)\nBroken condoms, lipstick marks and unprotected sex (Uh)\nI feel like shit, you know I ain't shit\nSorry won't turn back the clock\nBaby, I took advantage 'cause I knew you\nWouldn't believe it, so I used you\nI'm sorry, oh\nBut sorry don't make it right, I know (May-May-May)\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nWe at the crib, she got her legs wrapped around my waist\nConversatin', she lick every tattoo that's on my face\nLike a thug, I just wanna fuck, that's every day\nTemporary separations, confessin' my mistakes\nShe packed her bags and left me home and I'm still hurt\nYou new pussy, but she can't tell me that it's real first\nA lot of lies, apologize, the thirst real\nWhen she hear this, thinkin' to herself, \"Damn, this verse real\"\nRehab out in Vegas, that made this a murdered sin\nSent the bottles to her table, then made love on the jet\nTemporary thrills, all these women you think I tossed\nMy feelings genuine, disregard what you see on blogs\nI been a boss before I recorded Meek song\nMill in cash on the 'Gram, they trendin' Meech home\nIn the D my G, he throwin' that P-Stone\nEvery picture that you post, leave comments on each one\nI'm just a typical ordinary nigga\nBut I know that I can't change the rules\nAll this time I blamed you 'cause I know what I'm doing\nSteppin' on your heart again, relationship ruined\nI tried to change, but I'm always out, fuckin' around in the club (May-May)\nPieces of my love letter tore up from this break up (Uh)\nMy worst nightmare went right in my back, I wish I could wake up (Uh)\nI feel like shit, know I ain't shit, but I'm (May-May-May)\nSorry won't turn back the clock\nBaby, I took advantage 'cause I knew you\nWouldn't believe it, so I used you\nI'm sorry, oh (Gotta love it, baby, uh)\nBut sorry don't make it right, I know (May-May-May)\nLife's short and, baby girl, you deserve a winner\nEvery day the diamonds on you get bigger and bigger\nHustle from my heart, so every night I can deliver (Uh)\nSayin' sorry, layin' up, I'm way up in your liver (Boss)\nThem red bottoms got you walkin' funny (Ha)\nGet you a agent, she ballin' and all she talk is money (Right)\nTake her shoppin', baby boy, ain't no salary caps (Uh)\nShe get it poppin', so you better bring battery packs (Huh)\nPerfect time to relax\nNothin' is perfect other than me and the perfect match\nThey all watch me 'cause the moves I make out they budgets\nDiamond district, six figures on my shorty nugget\n\nI tried to change, but they always around, pullin' me down in bed (May-May-May)\nGave you my word, but they were just broken promises\nBroken condoms, lipstick marks and unprotected sex (Yeah)\nYeah, I feel like shit, you know I ain't shit\nSorry won't turn back the clock (May-May)\nBaby, I took advantage 'cause I knew you\nWouldn't believe it, so I used you\nI'm sorry, oh\nBut sorry don't make it right (May-May-May)\n\nI apologize\nYou're not perfect, I'm not perfect"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsSo Sophisticated Lyrics\nThis shit is highly sophisticated\nI just make it look easy, nigga\nFollow me\n\nI'm so sophisticated\nTo get a verse from me, you gotta be initiated\nTo get a purse from me, she gotta be sophisticated\nPurchase a whip from me and never miss a single payment\nI'm from the city where the Muslims even Christians hate it\nEven the black folk hate to see another nigga made it\nTell all them pussies to chill, champagne refrigerated\nJust bought a chopper 'cause the last one, got it confiscated\nCounting a hundred mil so many times, I contemplate it\nYou wanna be the hottest but that shit get complicated\nI pull your card, I know you're pussy by your conversation\nShow you the safe, you'll have to kill me for that combination\nMade another two milli just off the compilation\nI just hit a lick, I'm telling you this shit amazing\nGot a white bitch, she fucking me just like she Jamaican\nSipping purple and that motherfucker concentrated\nThis for my niggas in them prisons, overpopulated\n\nThis the mob so you gotta get initiated\nIf you a mark, then you gotta make initial payment\nWe going hard, run it back just like it's Walter Payton\nThe game sweet, gave all my niggas an occupation (Rugh!)\nWe so sophisticated (Ugh!)\nShit so sophisticated (Woo!)\nHundred millionaires, bitch we made it (Ugh!)\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI'm so sophisticated\nSmoking weed, busting open Dom and liquor later\nI bust her open then I tell her I'ma lick her later\nPull out the stick and spray that bitch just like it\u2019s activator\nTime to lay down these niggas who still be masquerading\nWe know you pussies, so you got my niggas masturbating\nRound of applause 'cause them choppers be so captivating\nSo sophisticated \u2018cause them hits be calculated\nPut yo dick in the dirt, now you decapitated\nI'm getting money so you'll never hear me talking petty\nTatted on my stomach, rich forever, Makaveli (Babyyy)\nFifty million, hundred million, it's accumulating\nI'm the hottest and these other niggas cooling, ain't it\nI got a bitch I'm fucking that you see on BET\nMy Lil' Haiti shooters will have yo ass on TMZ\nBreaking news and we still get them for ten a key\nAnd if he faking, fuck him, tell them niggas \"C'est la vie\"\n\nThis the mob so you gotta get initiated\nIf you a mark, then you gotta make initial payment\nWe going hard, run it back just like it's Walter Payton\nThe game sweet, gave all my niggas an occupation (Rugh!)\nWe so sophisticated (Ugh!)\nShit so sophisticated (Woo!)\nHundred millionaires, bitch we made it (Ugh!)\nShitting on these haters, ball hard D Waiters\nEver since I got money, e'rybody need favors\nThat's why I ain't got no homies, and I ain't got no neighbors\nBut I be on my grind like I ain't got no paper\nBut I'm so rich and I got yo bitch\nAll in my whip and she all on my dick\nWith a hand on my stick, tryna live in my crib\n'Cause I handle my shit like a candle got lit\n'Cause I burn shit down, yeah I'm in my bag\nAnd these niggas so mad it's my turn now\nAnd I get that cash and my bitch so bad, she so sophisticated\nI'm balling hard, fucking bitches and ain't got shit for haters\nI hang my arm out the window now watch me get the paper\nMy neck so frosty, you frauding, yo shit refrigerator\nBoy you an imitator\nYou ain\u2019t got no M's in yo account, I never ask my amount\nTreat that bad bitch like a bad check 'cause I cash that and I bounce\nI ain't never had shit but I grab shit and I cashed out on that ounce\nAnd I flipped that to a bird and bounced back like word\n\nThis the mob so you gotta get initiated\nIf you a mark, then you gotta make initial payment\nWe going hard, run it back just like it's Walter Payton\nThe game sweet, gave all my niggas an occupation (Rugh!)\nWe so sophisticated (Ugh!)\nShit so sophisticated (Woo!)\nHundred millionaires, bitch we made it (Ugh!)"}
{"text":"\nGeah\nClassic hip hop shit\nDr. D-R-E\nRozay and Jay\nLet's get 'em!\n\nWe started out mopping floors\nAnd now we front row at the awards\nNumber one for the last twenty years\nIf you real, mothafucka scream cheers!\nMothafucka scream cheers!\nHeh, and it is what it is\nHe wanted to shine at the swap meet\nTill the white boys got him in that hot seat\nI only love it when her hair long\nYou should listen to this beat through my headphones\nMoney long, number one twenty years strong\nFuck a gym, I am him, Andre Young\nG5s to 6-4s, Dre got 'em\nIf the bitch bad, I got her in red bottoms\nGreat weed, nice homes, bread proper\nTec nine, one chamber, top shotta\nBentley coupe, new yacht, my helicopter\nBorn broke, real nigga, straight outta Compton\nThe fuck you magazine niggas want from me?\nI rewrote the game, nigga, now talk money\nAll-black, on my Al Capone shit\nI built a house, nigga, get your own shit\nI only love it when her hair long\nYou should listen to this beat through my headphones\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nSee y'all niggas\nHit the switches on that shit one time\nUgh\nLet the top down\n\nI came a long way from the weed game\nTwenty stack seats at the Heat game (Woo!)\nAnd I'm still strapped with the heat man (Ugh!)\nCan't be steppin' on a nigga feet man (Hah!)\n80 pair of sneakers came from the D game\nCousin was a Crip, said it was a C thing\nBrown bag money in a duffle bag\nFuck 'em all, wet 'em, then we gotta double back\nThe homie whippin' chickens in his momma kitchen\nOn the mission, said he get it for his son tuition (Ugh!)\nReal nigga's dreams comin' to fruition\nStumble, but I never fall, leanin' on my pistol (Woo!)\nI only love it when her ass fat\nWe should listen to this track in my Maybach (Maybach Music)\nI'm just tryin' to be a billionaire\nCome and suck a dick for a millionaire (Ugh!)\n\nUgh\nIt's just different\nI know it feels different\nUgh\nI only love her if her eyes brown\nPlay this shit while you play around with my crown\nKing H-O, y'all should know by now\nBut if you don't know, ugh\nMillions on the wall in all my rooms\nNiggas couldn't fuck with my daughter's room\nNiggas couldn't walk in my daughter's socks\nBanksy, bitches, Basquiat\nI ran through that buck fifty Live Nation fronted me\nThey workin' on another deal, they talkin' two-hundred-fifty!\nI'm holdin' out for three\nTwo-seventy-five and I just might agree\nEx-D-boy, used to park my Beamer\nNow look at me, I can park in my own arena\nI only love her if her weave new\nI'm still a hood nigga, what you want me to do?\nBeen hoppin' out the BM with your BM\nTaking her places that you can't go with your per diem\nScreamin' \"Carpe diem!\" until I'm a dead poet\nRobin Williams shit, I deserve a Golden Globe, bitch!\nI'll take a Ace in the meanwhile\nYou ain't gotta keep this, Khaled, it's just a freestyle\nFuck rap money, I've made more off grapes\nFuck show money, I spent that on drapes\nClose the curtains, fuckboy, out my face\nI whip the coke, let the lawyer beat the case\nMurder was the case that they gave me\nI killed the Herm\u00e8s store, somebody save me\nStuntin' to the max like, wavy!\nOh, shit!\nOh, stuntin' to the max, I'm so wavy\nUsed to shop at TJ Maxx back in '83\nI don't even know if it was open then\nI ain't know Oprah then\nHad the XL 80 bike, loud motor, they be like, \"Damn!\"\nWhen I'm comin' through, rrraaanngg\nHad the grill in '88, y'all niggas is late\nYou got all that, right?\nUgh! I love this shit like my own daughter\nSpray these niggas, baby, just like daddy taught ya\nYoung\nIt's just different"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsB.M.F. (Blowin\u2019 Money Fast) Lyrics\n\nUgh\nUgh\nWe blowing money fast on this side, nigga\nCatch up, nigga\n\nI think I'm Big Meech (Ugh), Larry Hoover\nWhippin' work, hallelujah\nOne nation under God\nReal niggas gettin' money from the fuckin' start\nI think I'm Big Meech (Woo), Larry Hoover (Woo)\nGettin' work, hallelujah\nOne nation, under God\nReal niggas gettin' money from the fuckin' start\n\nMy Rolls Royce triple-black, I'm Geechee, ho\nBallin' in the club, bottles like I'm Meechie, ho\nRozay\u2014that's my nickname\nCocaine runnin' in my big veins\nSelf-made, you just affiliated\nI build it ground-up, you bought it renovated\nTalkin' plenty capers, nothing's been authenticated\nFunny, you claimin' the same bitch that I'm penetrating\nHold the bottles up, where my comrades?\nWhere the fuckin' felons? Where my dogs at?\n(Ugh!) I got that Archie Bunker\nAnd it's so white, I just might charge you double\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI think I'm Big Meech (Ugh), Larry Hoover\nWhippin' work, hallelujah\nOne nation under God\nReal niggas gettin' money from the fuckin' start\nI think I'm Big Meech (Woo), Larry Hoover (Woo)\nGettin' work, hallelujah\nOne nation, under God\nReal niggas gettin' money from the fuckin' start\n\nThese motherfuckers mad that I'm icy! (Boss)\nStunt so hard, make them come indict me (Ugh)\nI think I'm Big Meech, look at my timepiece\nIt's an Audem-eer, hundred racks, at least\nLook at yourself, now look at me (Me!)\nYou can't see a nigga, I'm what you used to be (Ha)\nLook at it this way (Yeah), you niggas sideways (Sideways)\nAlways gettin' money, my nigga, crime pays (Crime pays)\nSo fuck a nigga (Fuck a nigga), I'm self-made (Self-made)\nYou a sucker nigga (Sucker nigga), I'm self-paid (Self-paid)\nThis for my broke niggas (Broke niggas), this for my rich niggas (Rich niggas)\nGot a hundred on the head of a snitch nigga (Ugh)\n\nI think I'm Big Meech, Larry Hoover\nWhippin' work, hallelujah\nOne nation under God\nReal niggas gettin' money from the fuckin' start\nI think I'm Big Meech (Woo), Larry Hoover (Ross, what up?)\nGettin' work, hallelujah (S.P. the Ghost)\nOne nation, under God (Y'all niggas know what it is)\nReal niggas gettin' money from the fuckin' start (Let's get it, my nigga, yeah)\nThem thirty-six holes leave you bleedin', family (Bleedin')\nWord to them thirty-six O's in a kilogram (Ha)\nBlunt tip orange like caviar\nWildin' out, fishtailin', Subaru, rally car (Fishtailin')\nOut the passenger, lettin' the automatic off (Let it off)\nA eighth of that girl'll knock your mommy and your daddy off (You know that!)\nFuck around and knock the emblem on the Caddy off (Fuck around)\nFour shooters buggin' out, blickin' at your Caddy doors (Blick-outs)\nAnd did I mention: guns from Red Dead Redemption? (Did I?)\nNine-mils, fifty-clip extensions (A long clip)\nCoke is like a mattress in the hood: I'm flippin' on it (I'm flippin')\nAnd the money's like a chair: I'm sittin' on it (Keep quiet, nigga)\n\nI think I'm Big Meech (Ugh), Larry Hoover\nWhippin' work, hallelujah\nOne nation under God\nReal niggas gettin' money from the fuckin' start\nI think I'm Big Meech (Woo), Larry Hoover (Woo)\nGettin' work, hallelujah\nOne nation, under God\nReal niggas gettin' money from the fuckin' start\n\n(Maybach Music)"}
{"text":"\nYou wanted to fuckin' walk around these roaches. These niggas is roaches. These niggas is mere motherfuckin' mortals. I'm tryna push you to supreme bein'. You don't wanna motherfuckin'... You don't wanna embrace your destiny, you wanna get by\nYou don't wanna go into the motherfuckin' dark where it's lonely. You can't handle the motherfuckin', the pain of the motherfuckin' not knowin' when the shit is gonna stop\n\nMomma's tryna save me but she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me, man, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\"Blast for me\" \u2013 the last words from my nigga\nOn the pavement, born killers, body shivers\nDrug money, dollar figures\nHustlers movin' out of rentals, art of war is mental\nHavin' sushi down in Nobu\nStrapped like an Afghan soldier, nowhere to go to\nSo it's bang, no survivors\nOnly riders on my rider, murder rate rises\nStalkin' niggas on their IG's, never; I be\nStill solo, Under Armour still Polo\nNo wire, on fire\nMy desire for fine things made me a liar, a shooter\nGettin' high feelin' like it's vodou\nNine lives, SK with the cooler\nMakaveli in the 'Rari, still B-I double G, I, E\nI pray you smoke with me\nGo to bed with a kilo like Casino\nJanet Reno, we all we got the creed of Nino\nPretty cars in the driveway\nIf you cut it then you sideways, double up, crime pays\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nMomma's tryna save me but she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me, man, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nYou fuckin' wanna walk around with these niggas? What the fuck is their culture? Where the fuck is their souls at? What defines you? These niggas with these fuckin' silly looks on their faces. You wanna walk around with them or you wanna walk with God, nigga? Make up your goddamn mind\n\nI'm from where the streets test you\nNiggas mix business and pleasure where the cocaine measure\nThe narcotics is our product\nThe by-product, you walk up on me, I cock it\nNew Mercedes as it peels off\nNothin' penetrates the steel doors, gang signs, see 'em all\nI said my prayer as I'm countin' sheep\nNever really athletic, but I play for keeps, do you feel me?\nThe mortician, the morgue fillin' with more snitches\nWe kill 'em and takin' their bitches, R.I.P\nChinchillas on a winter night\nBlack bottles when I'm feelin' like, you wanna know what winners like\nAnd I'm never on that tour bus\nJust a decoy for niggas, the PJ's for two of us\nCiroc boys down to die for Diddy\nMy niggas ride for less, keep it real, homie, made me filthy\nTouch mine, until it's even: kill\nLike I'm knowin' every heathen will, closed the deal with Steven Hill\nWe Magic City of the networks\nCut a nigga cast off, how my nigga net worths\nMomma's tryna save me but she don't know I'm tryna save her\nMan, them niggas tried to play me, man, 'til I got this paper\nYou're nobody 'til somebody kills you\n\nFuck, y'all wanna talk about fuckin' jewelries and Bentley's and Hublot's and fuckin' art that niggas ain't got on their fuckin' walls and fuckin' mansions niggas ain't got. Niggas can't even pay the IRS, let alone their fuckin' staff, nigga. You gotta tell the truth, man. The truth'll set you free, son, the truth will set you free"}
{"text":"This is for the soldiers that see the sun at midnight\nYou dig?\nLet me slow down\nIt\u2019s so Inkredible\n\nI go to the grave before I be a bitch nigga\nBetter behave, you dealing with some rich niggas\nWe the lost symbols, speak in cryptic codes\nAncient wisdom valuable like gifts of gold\nI embark on life, my path is all math\nI understand the codes these hackers can\u2019t crack\nI understand that folks expect me to fold\nCommunity control to violate parole (No)\nI won't fail, but a lot of men will\nI\u2019m iconic in the field like Solomon's Seal (Woo)\nUgh, it\u2019s just the intro\nAllow my flow time to sink into the tempo\nFree Mason (What), freelancer (Yeah)\nFree agents (Me), we faster (Ha)\nBig contracts, big contractors\nBuilt pyramids, period, we masters\nNo caterpillars, it was just a lot of niggas\nA lot of great thinkers and a lot of great inventors\nAll-white mansion, I\u2019m the child of God\nAll-black diamonds, times were hard (Woo)\nNew Rolls Royce, guess you made it, nigga (Ha)\nAll-white neighborhood, you they favorite nigga (Nigga)\nMy top back like JFK\nThey wanna push my top back like JFK (Ayy)\nSo\u2014 So I \"JFK\"\nJoin forces with the kings and we ate all day (Oh)\nRight now, I could rewrite history (Woo)\nI stopped writing, so fuck it, I\u2019ll do it mentally\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI go to the grave before I be a bitch nigga\nBetter behave, you dealing with some rich niggas\nStarted in the ghetto, now we worldwide\nMultiplying and I pray to God we never die (H-O)\nI go to the grave before I be a bitch nigga\nBetter behave, you dealing with some rich niggas\nStarted in the ghetto, now we worldwide (Yeah)\nMultiplying and I pray to God we never die (Yeah)\n\nNiggas couldn\u2019t do nothing with me, they put the devil on me\nI'd have preferred niggas to squeeze the metal on me\nRumors of Lucifer, I don\u2019t know who to trust\nWhole world want my demise\u2014turn the music up\nHear me clearly: If y\u2019all niggas fear me, just say y'all fear me\nFuck all these fairytales\nGo to Hell, this is God engineering\nThis is a Hail Mary pass, y\u2019all interfering\nHe without sin shall cast the first stone\nSo y'all look in the mirror, double-check your appearance\nBitch, I said I was amazing\nNot that I'm a Mason\nIt\u2019s amazing that I made it through the maze that I was in\nLord forgive me, I never would've made it without sin\nHoly water, my face in the basin\nDiamonds in my Rosary shows He forgave him\nBitch, I'm red-hot\nI'm on my third six, but a devil I'm not\nMy Jesus-piece flooded\nBut thou shall not covet\u2014keep your eyes off my cupboard\nI'm a bad motherfucker, it's Hov, just say you love it\nI go to the grave before I be a bitch nigga\nBetter behave, you dealing with some rich niggas\nStarted in the ghetto, now we worldwide\nMultiplying and I pray to God we never die\nI go to the grave before I be a bitch nigga\nBetter behave, you dealing with some rich niggas\nStarted in the ghetto, now we worldwide\nMultiplying and I pray to God we never die\n\nIf I ever die\nNever let it be said I didn\u2019t win\nNever, never say\nNever say, \"Legend didn\u2019t go in\" (I'ma go in)\nI just wanna die on top of the world\nMaking love to my favorite girl\nI'm making beautiful music, we making a movie\nWe knew we was born to do it\n\nI go to the grave before I be a bitch nigga\nBetter behave, you dealing with some rich niggas\nStarted in the ghetto, now we worldwide\nMultiplying and I pray to God we never die\nI go to the grave before I be a bitch nigga\nBetter behave, you dealing with some rich niggas\nStarted in the ghetto, now we worldwide\nMultiplying and I pray to God we never die"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsApple of My Eye Lyrics\n(Hahahah!)\nJust being somebody that the neighborhood respected\nAnd my mama could be proud of, was the apple of my eye\nThat's all I ever wanted, just being something, man\nSo at that point what else can you ask for?\n(M-M-Maybach Music)\n\nTears runnin' down a nigga face\nIn a room full of failures, I feel out of place\nStill sleepin' on the floor when you deserve better\nGot you reekin' through the cold even in warm weather\nI told Meek, \"I wouldn't trust Nicki\nInstead of beefin' with your dog, you just give 'em some distance\"\nWe all make mistakes, let's not be too specific\nWe like, \"I rather be a killer than be a statistic\"\nI never fold, no, I never ran\nOn my soul, I'll roll like an avalanche\nI thank the Lord I got some great friends\nThat's why every bottle I open, I say, \"Amen\"\nJust had seizure at the Super Bowl\nWoke up in the third quarter lookin' for the smoke\nIf it's more than a quarter million, I'll count it twice\nPucci broke my heart, shit, I call it life\nAnd never will I call it right\nNot perfect but I'm the one you would call at night\nTravelin' the world, I'm just reppin' my city\nBut rarely do I hear that this nigga done did it\nWhen niggas in fatigues will keep you intrigued\n'Cause the loss of life's the only thing niggas believe\nSo I pray you listen carefully\nThen I become another motherfuckin' casualty\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nAlways speak and say hi\nYou just never ever walk on by (never ever walk on by)\nYou even stopped and put one in the sky (the sky)\nYou do it for the love of you and I (for the love of you and)\n\nStandin' on your block but you so out of place\nUncle on the couch, momma runnin' out of space\nLights off so you never tend to speak much\nGo your separate ways every time the lease up\nA fat ugly nigga, thought I'd never be nothin'\nAnother tree stump, happy with his free lunch\nDuckin' pigeons, I'm an eagle on a sunny day\nFlap my wings once a week, pray I glide safe\nI want fried chicken at my funeral\nRolls Royces, dope boys, Sway interviews\nEverybody dyin' for the same things\nCop kill a nigga, don't nobody gangbang\nI'm happy Donald Trump became the president\nBecause we gotta destroy, before we elevate\nReal shit, look at me inside the white house\nWith a pocket full of weed inside the white house\nDead presidents tattooed on a nigga chest\nU.S. treasury addressing me, mad at my address\nOwn the biggest residential pool in the U.S\nDrake and Kanye can invite every bitch they ever met\nFinger fuckin' bitches in the holy water\nThen I go an tell what happened to my only daughter\nSo her daddy told it to her firsthand\nNever perfect but it's not just 'bout them purses\nAlways speak and say hi\nYou just never ever walk on by (never ever walk on by)\nYou even stopped and put one in the sky (the sky)\nYou do it for the love of you and I (for the love of you and)\nMaybach Music\n\nThe streets could never teach me\nAll the things I got from you\nI found myself in the wrong lane\nAnd I ended up in pain, pain\nI was strolling down a dark street\nWhen this girl passed me by\nShe said you've always been a good friend (always been a good friend)\nAnd you never never never let me down\nI'll just fall back, never turn back\nLet it go, let it go\nI'll just fall back, never turn back\nLet it go, let it go\n\nAlways speak and say hi\nYou just never ever walk on by (never ever walk on by)\nYou even stopped and put one in the sky (the sky)\nYou do it for the love of you and I (for the love of you and)"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsHold Me Back Lyrics\nI see how these niggas playin'\nBut I could adapt\n\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese hoes won't hold me back\nThese hoes won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\n\nI look in my fridge, my shit lookin' scarce\nI got a few kids, we need some shit on the shelf\nI get a knock at the door, they say my rent overdue\nAnd while my niggas sell dope and don't know what else to do\nThe only thing on my mind, I'm tryin' to keep on the lights\nI call up my slime, I need a kilo tonight\nEverything went well, I'm eatin' steak, no more soup\nThen I parked the Caprice, I went and got me a coupe\nEverything takes time, but this shit came fast\nNiggas standin' in line, they wanna hold me back\nI multiplied my hustle, stimulated my mind\nMotivated my niggas and we'll never divide, NO!\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese hoes won't hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back, no\n\nFirst I got me a Taurus, then I copped me a Lexus\nI took over Florida, my connect out of Texas\nThen I start sippin' purple, got my shit screwed\nWhen you feedin' your circle, watch your shipments improve\nFabricate 'bout your fortune, all my fabric's imported\nFornicate in my fortress, 40k still my mortgage\n24k my toilet, all my taxes reported\nAll my exes deported, shout-out Texas, New Orleans\nAll these niggas influenced by a hustler's endurance\nI just bought me the purest, but I need some insurance\nNiggas watch who you fuckin' just to hate on your bitches\nNiggas breakin' the rules, niggas facin' suspension\n\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese hoes won't hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back, no\nMomma workin' three jobs 'til I told her to quit\nHow we rose from the sewers, funny now I'm the shit\nNiggas ain't gettin' money, but they got an opinion\nHad this tech makin' racket, serve you like you were tennis\nKillers ride for that paycheck, AK, okay, check\nBitch nigga let's play chess, yo bitch next, no latex\nThese niggas won't hold me back, told the feds they sold me sack\nWhip 'em right and then come right back\nWhip-whip-whip 'em right and then come right back\n\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese hoes won't hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back, no\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese hoes won't hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back, no\nPussy ass niggas, pussy ass niggas\nThey all pussy ass niggas, pussy ass niggas\nLookin' down on these niggas, pussy ass niggas\nPushin' my new Ferrari on these pussy ass niggas\nPussy ho, pussy ho\nShe a pussy ho until she give me pussy ho\nPussy ho, pussy ho\nPussy ho, she a pussy ho\n\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese hoes won't hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back\nThese hoes wanna hold me back, no\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back\nThese niggas won't hold me back..."}
{"text":"40 ContributorsHoly Ghost Lyrics\nHeh, what is this? (Maybach Music)\nI like this Maybach Music\n(Sweet!) Hahahah...\n\nBugatti Boyz\nYo turn up the motherfuckin' lights\nYou know what it is\nYeah, fuck your dreams, nigga\nThis reality, yeah, take that\n\nThey say I'm gettin' money, must be Illuminati\nTalking to the Holy Ghost, in my Bugatti\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in\nThey say I'm gettin' money, must be Illuminati\nTalking to the Holy Ghost, in my Bugatti\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in\n\nLord knows, that boy done been about it\nLord knows, that boy'll catch a body\nPhone ringing, gotta be the Mexicans\nPhone ringing, gotta be the Mexicans\nBeing dead broke is the root of all evil\nGet money, my nigga, do good with your people\nI got the calico, I got the dynamite\nThey wanna do it big? Pick a time tonight\nBack to these bitches following my timeline\nBack to these crackers following my timeline\nGot the phone tapped, I think I'm being followed\nTouch him with the Holy Ghost, can you hear me Father?\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nFather, please protect me from brokeness\nAnd bitch ass niggas, bitch ass bitches too\nKeep 'em away\n\nThey say I'm gettin' money, must be Illuminati\nTalking to the Holy Ghost, in my Bugatti\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in\nThey say I'm gettin' money, must be Illuminati\nTalking to the Holy Ghost, in my Ferarri\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in\n\nWork! That's all my niggas workin' with\nWork! That's all my niggas lurkin' with\nMy teacher told me that I was a piece of shit\nSeen her the other day, driving a piece of shit\nWork! Exactly what I'm screamin' ho\nCertified, 8 digit nigga, triple beamin' ho\nHah! You talkin' to the Holy Ghost\nI'm smokin' 'til I overdose\nUh, when I fuck she let her pussy soak\nEven my lawyer be askin is it dope\nNever break the code, shock me with a million volts\nI'm forever dope, touched by the Holy Ghost\nYou see, they hate what they don't understand\nFather, forgive them, for they know not what they do\nLet's go\n\nThey say I'm gettin' money, must be Illuminati\nTalking to the Holy Ghost, in my Bugatti\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in\nHe knockin' on the do' don't let the Devil in"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsWar Ready Lyrics\n\nSentence should now-now be pronounced\nI'll ask that you stand for sentence, please\nMr. ***, it is the sentence of the court\nThat your custody be committed to the Department of Corrections\nFor confinement of the *** state prisons\nWithout possibility of parole for the remainder of your life\nYou may be seated\n\nWar ready\nYou got shooters, I got shooters\nWe got money\nLet\u2019s do what them other niggas can\u2019t do though\nMastermind, uh, uh\nNigga got a thousand guns, nigga (War, Dade County)\nAnd if money is power, nigga\nI got millions of power, nigga, huh (Hahahaha, Miami shit)\nFuck with me nigga, huh? (War, war, war)\n\nSeventeen, I was chargin' niggas seventeen\nRidin' clean, youngest nigga in the Medell\u00edn\nBomber green in that thang, in the middle lane\nDid some thangs for my niggas which I can't explain\nVersace slippers, twenty chains, bitch I'm Dana Dane\nPut a patch over your eye, fuck with my petty change\nFuck what you heard, for that bird, I'm a dirty nigga\nLaid to rest by the one you thought was workin' with ya\nWar ready, the game just wanna take my life\nWar ready, pussy boy, we all could die tonight\nWar ready, fast cash above the law\nWar ready, gas masks when them choppers talk\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nKillers on the front line when ya war ready, huh\nChopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready, huh\nJust another mama cryin' when ya war ready, huh\nJust another homicide cause we war ready, huh\nKillers on the front line when ya war ready, huh\nChopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready, huh\nJust another mama cryin' cause we war ready, huh\nJust another homicide when you're war ready, war, war, war\n\nA coward dies a thousand deaths, a real nigga dies but one\n21 gun salute out of the top of your drop-top coupe\nI know a lot of niggas gon' hate to see this\nYeah, I wish Shake could see this\nI'll never fall for what I stand for\nThis here for Nando\nWe could live today Blood and die tonight cuz, war ready\nBox Chevy hit the block, run the whole fifty shots\nYou just poppin' 'til you know you can't pop 'em no more\nWe done came through the block in so many colored drops\nAnd these motherfuckers think you can't drop 'em no more\nWar ready, a nigga put some change on your head\nDamn right, fuck around, clear my safe out\nI got a few digi' scales and a couple Denzels\nYeah, you motherfuckin' right this a safe house\nGive me the K and a shovel, I'll bury that nigga\nBe his pallbearer so I can carry that nigga\nWhat you gon' hit him with, the Glock or the chop?\nLook, I wouldn't give a fuck if they were sharin' that nigga\nYou motherfuckers out here\nAlways talkin' 'bout what another motherfucker said\nYeah, I got that FNH with that motherfuckin' Fendi holster\nI ain't out here to motherfuckin' play\nWhy these fuck niggas always cryin' 'bout somethin'?\nEither you livin' like a ho or you dyin' 'bout somethin'\nTry to let that Rollie breathe but it's hidin' up my sleeve\nLike that motherfucker timid or shy about somethin'\nTomorrow ain't promised, nigga roll up that weed\nGotta stay strapped to live the life I lead\n\"Snow, you could start your own alphabet with all them Gs\nOpen up a hundred doors with all them kis\"\nYeah, we live for them coupes but we dyin' by the gun\nMissed his court date, now my nigga on the run\nBig shit poppin' and it's sparklin' like a lighter\nShit bag, leave a grown nigga in a diaper\nHangin' out the Rolls, on your mark, get set\nLet it go, better hold that bitch steady\nWhen adrenaline get to rushin' and them drums get to bussin'\nYeah, I hope you pussy niggas war ready\nKillers on the front line when ya war ready\nChopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready\nJust another mama cryin' when ya war ready\nJust another homicide cause we war ready\n\nFollow in my footstep, I was born to die a soldier\nNigga couldn't walk a mile, found him naked in his Rover\nShout out to the Vice Lords, shout out to my Blood nigga\nShout out to them GDs, where that Crip love, nigga?\nShout out to them dope boys, owe it to the plug, nigga\nI could die a thousand times, will never die a fuck nigga\nShoutout to my city, too, my clip hold a 62\nRidin' down on 61st, rest in peace to Fluty Coupe\nHeroin and quinine, cut that bitch a thousand times\nPhone call, said he need a brick\nI text him back, \"Come stand in line\"\nYou went out of town so I had to whack your bitch\nNever came back, pussy boy, go die a bitch\n\nKillas on front line when ya war ready (War ready)\nChopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready\nIf you ain't ready to die about it\nJust another mama cryin' when ya war ready\nDon't even mention it to a nigga like me, baby\nJust another homicide cause we war ready\nI went from nothing, nigga, to sixty million, nigga\nWalking around in my motherfuckin' Belaire robe, nigga\nKillers on the front line when ya war ready\nIn Evander Holyfield's estate, nigga, twenty-five million, nigga\nChopper shoot a thousand rounds when ya war ready\nSix million in marble\nJust another mama cryin' cause we war ready\nTwo million in drapes, another 5 in chandeliers\nJust another homicide when ya war ready, war, war, war\nHuh, 130 acres, nigga, huh\nThat's just one of the many properties, nigga\nWar ready, and I'm down to die 'bout that\nWe gon' ride 'bout that\nSo you know we ready to slide 'bout that\nCut that check, nigga, what ya money like, huh?\nIt's hard to go to war with seventy million, nigga, huh?\nRead the obituary, nigga\nPrint that motherfucker in Italian, huh?\nWhat's a hassa? What's a hassa?\nThat's you, haha\nI'm not gon' kill you though, haha\nI'm not gon' kill you though, haha\nHey Black, kill this motherfucker"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsRich Forever Lyrics\nRegardless of how it goes down\nLife goes on, am I right? (Oh, oh, whoa)\n\nOn the way we shed some tears, every day we sacrifice\nSo we can be standing here, oh, what a hell of a life\nBeen winning so many years, and the future is bright\nNow it's very clear, that we gon' be rich forever\nAnd ever, and ever, oh-oh, oh-oh\nWe gon' be rich forever, oh oh oh, oh-oh, oh-oh\nWe gon' be rich forever, and ever, and ever\n\nI remember bein' blind to it\n'Til the day I put my mind to it\nPen and pad on the dresser for me to fine tune it\nI sat in the corner, made up my mind, do it\nDef Jam on my heels, should I sign to it?\nMillion dollar advance for me to rhyme fluent\nEvery day I'm hustlin' on every corner boomin'\nBack of the Phantom, couldn't fathom, I was such a student\nGrandfather deal for the Godfather\nLucian Grainge from the ghetto, I follow God's orders\nAnd he told me I was rich forever\nAnd he showed me I was rich forever\nThey call me Mr. Roberts when I'm in the bank\nDigits like the Dodgers when it come to franks\nFlossin' out in Compton like I got a cape\nRoseMo tried to fight it but barely, niggas fade\nWhite sheet, yellow tape, where your dawgs at?\nCount a million cash, can you blog that?\nMe and niggas your type never exchange numbers\nWant to conversate and steal game from us\nSee the watch now you wanna know the name of it\nNever playin' so I went and got the frame flooded\nCartier, Hublot, I could name a dozen\nYour shit pushed back cause it ain't buzzin'\nNow these thugs actors all of a sudden\nNiggas hustle backwards all of a sudden\nCan't talk snow, where the soft at?\nYour man got murked but you squashed that\nHope you know what we call that\nI think you know just what we call that...\nAll you pussy boys fall back\nBig face Rollie, rose gold cost 40\nPlatinum 21, it's time to go and spoil shorty\nYou only live once I'm screamin' YOLO in the V-I\nTime flies fast ballin' with my nigga T.I\nC\u00eeroc, no glass, smilin' women in my presence\nTall supermodels always fall in my possession\nAtlanta housewives takin' pictures in my section\nBut I only got a thing for young bitches with aggression\nShow me that affection that a D-boy craves\nRich forever in my D-boy ways\nSo dope, blue jeans, new Js\nSold dope by any means all day\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nBeen winning so many years, and the future is bright\nNow it's very clear, that we gon' be rich forever\nAnd ever, and ever, oh-oh, oh-oh\nWe gon' be rich forever\n\nHuh! A hundred mil ain't enough\nGot a hundred women, gotta deal with it, love\nWorth forty Ms, is he still dealin' drugs?\nCigarette speedboats but he's still with the thugs\nClub LIV, Louis shots on a Sunday\nGrindin', even be legit one day\nOrder some more bottles because I'm on one\nI know her pussy wet, and she wanna cum\nShe wanna cum, maybe come over\nStop dealin' with them niggas, you need one soldier\nKeep you as my bitch forever\nCause you know a nigga rich forever\n\nBeen winning so many years, and the future is bright\nNow it's very clear, that we gon' be rich forever\nAnd ever, and ever, oh-oh, oh-oh\nWe gon' be rich forever\nOn the way we shed some tears (Oh oh oh)\nEvery day we sacrifice\nOh-oh, oh-oh, we gon' be rich forever\nM-M-M-M-M-M-Maybach Music"}
{"text":"49 Contributors100 Black Coffins Lyrics\n\"Oooh, now you are one lucky nigga.\"\n\"You better listen to your boss white boy.\"\n\"Oh, I'm gonna walk in the moonlight with you.\"\n\"You wanna hold my hand?\"\n\nI need a hundred black coffins for a hundred bad men\nA hundred black graves, so I can lay they ass in\nI need a hundred black preachers, with a black sermon to tell\nFrom a hundred black Bibles, while we send them all to hell\nI need a hundred black coffins, black coffins, black coffins (Oh, Lord!)\nI need a hundred black coffins, black coffins, black coffins (Oh, Lord!)\nBlack coffins! (I need a hundred...)\n\nI seen a hundred niggas die\nI put that on my life, Lord, I wouldn't tell a lie\nUnless it had to do with mine, in the middle of the night\nKillers coming for you life, all you wanna do is shine?\nI broke off the chains only the realest remain\nI see your praying to Jesus, but will that help ease the pain?\nSeen a brother get slain for a jar full of change\nYet I post on the block, look like I'm Big Daddy Cane\nIs you a cat or a mouse? Keep them rats out the house\nA lotta scars on my back, get tattoes all around\nHundred dead bitches, hundred black coffins\nMoney on his head, bitch, I'm trying to make a fortune\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI need a hundred black coffins for a hundred bad men\nA hundred black graves, so I can lay they ass in\nI need a hundred black preachers, with a black sermon to tell\nFrom a hundred black Bibles, while we send them all to hell\nI need a hundred black coffins, black coffins, black coffins (Oh, Lord!)\nI need a hundred black coffins, black coffins, black coffins (Oh, Lord!)\nBlack coffins! (I need a hundred...)\n\nI seen a hundred women burn\nAs they stood firm, treat a nigga like a germ\nWhat did she do to deserve? Put me on the farm\nPigs' feet in a jar; serve it to me warm\nAny questions, they hang 'em, better pray for Dj-Django\nGot me working in fields, too many years it gets fatal\nAll I want is my woman, such a wonderful mother, (mama!)\nOn the days that it rains, her smile bright like a summer\nOur revenge is the sweetest, bitch cause I'm coming\nGonna die in my arms, for what you did to my mother (my mama!)\nHundred dead bitches, (Lord) hundred black coffins (why?)\n12 gauge, shotgun, chest full of carbon (boom-boom)\nI need a hundred black coffins for a hundred bad men\nA hundred black graves, so I can lay they ass in\nI need a hundred black preachers, with a black sermon to tell\nFrom a hundred black Bibles, while we send them all to hell\nI need a hundred black coffins, black coffins, black coffins (Oh, Lord!)\nI need a hundred black coffins, black coffins, black coffins (Oh, Lord!)\nBlack coffins! (I need a hundred...)"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsFuck Em Lyrics\nHuh, we rich forever\nDouble-M-G, we untouchable, nigga\nToo much paper, don't forget it\n(Maybach Music)\n\nC-note after C-note, put the remix on my kilo\nThought I wouldn't make it, now I'm winning, Timothy Tebow\nFourth quarter, I'm back; fourth quarter, in fact\nFourth quarter, that sack; Fourth Ward in all black\nI said \"Boss\" and I meant that; advance, you spent that\nCorvette so clean, you'll think Bruce Springsteen rent that\nCars just like sneakers, just got me ten pair\nDubai, I been there, but fuck that, we in here\nRoll up and inhale, I live next to Denzel\nAlonzo, my condo cost three mil', this shit real\nIPhone and iPad, Air Max, and my gat\nLeft hand got ten bands; back pocket, four stacks\nAll I need is bad hoes, all these niggas gon' rat\nHalf these niggas working now, they knocked it down, no going back\nAll I need is Benzos, squatting on Lorenzos\nStack my money tenfold, make this my new temple\n\nFuck em, fuck em, I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nFuck em, fuck em, I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nFuck all you haters, watch me fuck all these bitches\nI got eight different Rollies, and they all mint condition\nI'm screaming \"Fuck em, fuck em\", I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nFuck em, fuck em, I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nI got five different Benzes, this is my deposition\nI'm screaming \"Fuck every witness\", cause bitch, I'm big business\nI'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\n'Migo hit my boost (brrr), 'migo hit my boost (brrr)\nWhat you know about walking in the Gucci store and they salute?\nChain cost a coupe, coupe cost a crib\nRiding with the chopper, like it's my friend\nThis for real niggas only, I still bet with Kobe\nGot a sign in my garage that say \"Foreign only\"\nFour zips, pouring, on mixtapes I'm touring\nSee my shit that fire shit, and yo' shit boring\nI'm chain smoking loud like it's a Newport\nDad wasn't around -- my father figure was Too Short\nNew Porsche, deuced up, two cups got juice in it\nTwo forks, two pots, I could whip it both-handed\nMy girl is bow-legged, just do it like Bo Jackson\nEvery beat I'm toe-tagging, charm big as a Volkswagon\nMoney got me sagging, it really doesn't matter\nI run circles round these niggas' world like Saturn\n\nFuck em, fuck em, I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nFuck em, fuck em, I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nFuck all you haters, watch me fuck all these bitches\nI got eight different Rollies, and they all mint condition\nI'm screaming \"Fuck em, fuck em\", I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nFuck em, fuck em, I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nI got five different Benzes, this is my deposition\nI'm screaming \"Fuck every witness\", cause bitch, I'm big business\nI'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nBlack Foamposites, it's like we on that mobbing shit\nRiding five deep and I'm as dirty as them congressmen\nSixty-two, without no tint; missing roof on my new shit\nIronic since my drive increased, my driver see the profit\nYeah, work, fuck you niggas, pay me though\nSmoke that Mark McGwire strong, Oakland A no basic smoke\nShout-out to your lady, a.k.a. MMG favorite ho\nTell that ass the way to go, before I show her where to go\nNo Canseco, and I'm switching lanes at one-six-oh\nA nigga tree fire, a police siren, woop woop, nah, that's just Diplo\nAnd you cute, shorty let's get low, on a note, I'ma talk that jazz\nJungle fever for the night, horny and white, that's Anglo-Sax\n\nFuck em, fuck em, I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nFuck em, fuck em, I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nFuck all you haters, watch me fuck all these bitches\nI got eight different Rollies, and they all mint condition\nI'm screaming \"Fuck em, fuck em\", I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nFuck em, fuck em, I'm screaming \"Fuck em\"\nI got five different Benzes, this is my deposition\nI'm screaming \"Fuck every witness\", cause bitch, I'm big business\nI'm screaming \"Fuck em\""}
{"text":"76 ContributorsMade Men Lyrics\nYeah, made nigga, got made niggas with me\n(2 Tall)\nFuck it, I ain't even counting the money no more\nIf it ain't right, it ain't right\nIt ain't even matter no more\nCut me up a lil' bit\nThis next-level shit\n\nTwo-door Bugatti coupe, I call it \"Katy Perry\"\nWiz Khalifa papers, smoking my favorite berries\nS65, I call it \"Rihanna\"\nIt got a red top, but it's white like Madonna\nMade man\u2014you hear what I said?\nHaving a slumber party, all my bitches counting bread\nMade man, also known as \"Papi Chulo\" (Ugh)\nAnd I\u2019m running straight up in the culo\nMy wrist always on fr\u00edo, call me \"Chilly Chill\" (Ugh)\nSuper head from Superhead, and I really will\nCalifornication, motivation in my pocket\nGot on my blue Dickie, shout out my nigga Roccett\nStill smoking sticky, it ain't no other option\u2014\nNot for made niggas, and I\u2019m never stopping\nI raised the bar, I set the standards (Ugh)\nMy yayo Usher Raymond, that bitch just keep on dancing\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nDollar bills on top of dollar bills\nThats all I\u2019m throwing\u2014if she won't, lil' mama will (Ugh)\nMade niggas, talking a lot of skrill\nEight digits, a nigga tryna live\nMade man (Ugh)\u2014you hear what I said?\nI got a hundred squares\u2014if you scared, call the feds\nMade man, I\u2019m screaming, \"Dollar bills\"\nPop the trunk on the Porsche (Ugh)\u2014there they go, dollar bills\n\nRiding 'round the city, plastic cup of Henny\nFind a nigga like me? Truth be told, I don\u2019t know many\nI say shout my driver, Lauren; that '62 with curtains\nCan't see shit, I don\u2019t know where the fuck I\u2019m at for certain, ah!\nWhen it boils down, I\u2019m just a T-O nigga\nBut bitches tell me that I look just like a Creole nigga\nNew Orleans know it\u2019s love every time I\u2019m in town\nShout out my nigga, Tez\u2014that's my brother, my 'round\nSpending tomorrows money, I call it \"Ma\u00f1ana\"\nOff the rack just ain't my style, I call it \"designer\"\nOne of my baddest women ever, I call her \"Rihanna\"\nBut that's 'cause her name is Rihanna\nI\u2019m in the condo just posted, watching Miami kill\nI might just walk to the arena and watch it for real\nAshes to ashes, me, Rozay and Khaled\nSmoking bullriders, shit moving slow as a ballad\nTattoo on your ass\u2014it\u2019d be nice if you show me\nI\u2019m buying bitches furs: Mike Tyson, Naomie\nI\u2019ve got the right to do it, it\u2019s only right to do it\nLove me some head, and I love a woman that likes to do it\nStill love my team, ain't no other option\u2014\nNot for made niggas, and I\u2019m never stopping\nI\u2019m Damon Wayans, just know that homie don\u2019t play that\nYou know we run it, my nigga, Young Money, Maybach (Maybach Music)\nDollar bills on top of dollar bills\nThats all I\u2019m throwing\u2014if she won't, lil' mama will (Ugh)\nMade niggas, talking a lot of skrill\nEight digits, a nigga tryna live\nMade man (Ugh)\u2014you hear what I said?\nI got a hundred squares\u2014if you scared, call the feds\nMade man, I\u2019m screaming, \"Dollar bills\"\nPop the trunk on the Porsche\u2014there they go, dollar bills\n\nBlack Panorama, I call it \"T-Pain\"\nI got my AutoTune, that bitch insane\nGot my revolver, too, I call it \"Ving Rhames\"\nYou still a baby boy, we doing big things\nStreet niggas\u2014you hear what I said?\nI got some bad news: Jabar back in the feds\nFacing twenty, he just did a dime\nBeen out a year, look like he finna ride\nGenocide, these people killing time\nThrow you in a hole, you must be penalized\nSoon as you see success, haters reinvest\nMiami guns drive, half a million, nothing less\nRaised the bar, I set the standards\nMy yayo MC Hammer, that bitch just keep on dancing\nMichael Jackson: Let it moonwalk\nSet it on the napkin, let it cool off\nDollar bills on top of dollar bills\nThats all I\u2019m throwing\u2014if she won't, lil' mama will\nMade niggas, talking a lot of skrill (Ugh)\nEight digits, a nigga tryna live\nMade man\u2014you hear what I said?\nI got a hundred squares\u2014if you scared, call the feds\nMade man, I\u2019m screaming, \"Dollar bills\"\nPop the trunk on the Porsche\u2014there they go, dollar bills (Ugh)\n\nUgh, yeah\nUgh\nYeah, made nigga, got made niggas with me\nHaha\n(M-M-M-Maybach Music)"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsNo Games Lyrics\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these niggas, they're so fake and they phony\nCan't play no games with these bitches, they treat me like I'm Tony\nCan't play no games with these niggas\n\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these bitches\nCan't play no games with these bitches\nCan't play no games with these niggas, they're so fake and they phony\nCan't play no games with these bitches, they treat me like I'm Tony\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these bitches\n\nKilo in the kitchen, pussy niggas Merry Christmas\nBitches taking pictures cause we keep on getting richer\nSay a nigga name you know you fucking with them killers\nWalking through the club only salute the real niggas\nAin't no bottles on your table, pussy boy go get your gwolla\nHoes don\u2019t credit pussy so you can\u2019t pay her tomorrow\nBitch just bought a house she can't afford to run her mouth\nI run all these fields, I run the game, not just the South\nBow down to the biggest, Belaire I be spilling\nCounting all this paper, no games with these pussy niggas\nDouble M, we poppin', shoppin' buying new clothes\nHeard your shit keep flopping and your crib got foreclosed\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these bitches\nCan't play no games with these bitches\nCan't play no games with these niggas, they're so fake and they phony\nCan't play no games with these bitches, they treat me like I'm Tony\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these bitches\n\nCan\u2019t play no games with these lames, I\u2019m getting money like Tony\nThree chains on my neck these bitches brushin' up on it\nHundred grand on my watch, you don\u2019t feel me then fuck 'em\nIf you playin' with work, we either feed 'em or touch 'em\nI play no games with these hoes, get a ticket a show\nFeds follow a nigga like it\u2019s a brick at a show\nVIP choppa, Rollie be matchin'\nHo know we fuckin', so don\u2019t even ask em\nI play no games at the bar, all I see is Ciroc\nThree bottles for Diddy, three hoes in the car\nNo love for these skeezers, we party and fuck 'em\nEvery day is a party so every day we like fuck \u2018em\n\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these bitches\nCan't play no games with these bitches\nCan't play no games with these niggas, they're so fake and they phony\nCan't play no games with these bitches, they treat me like I'm Tony\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these bitches\nNiggas sellin\u2019 dope just tryin\u2019 to come up in the game\nSay it\u2019s for the fam but spendin' a hundred on the chain\nNiggas go for self when they caught up in the fame\nRun back to a nigga when them shots get to sprayin\u2019\nBANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG!\nNow we holdin' hands\nSuccess another gamble, bitch I took a chance\nJumped straight off the porch, jumped right in the kitchen\nThen I got a Porsche, my bitch wanted a Bentley\n\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these bitches\nCan't play no games with these bitches\nCan't play no games with these niggas, they're so fake and they phony\nCan't play no games with these bitches, they treat me like I'm Tony\nCan't play no games with these niggas\nCan't play no games with these bitches"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsUs Lyrics\nYoung Chop on the beat\nBandKamp\nOVO, MMG, GBE\nYou already know\nAww, yeah\n\nAt the top, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nOTF, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nGBE, we don't fuck with niggas\nAt the top, where you see us, nigga\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\n\nMichael Jackson got them fiends just like Thrilla\nTwo-door Maybach clean, smoking on killa\nYou a stranger talking and I don\u2019t feel it\nIf I don\u2019t know your momma, I'mma make him feel it\nHeavy Armor-All, you know I wanna shine\nBitch, I need it all, each and every dime\nPhotos taken, four-door Maybach, I know you hating\nStaying with women from Staten Island, my flows so flagrant\nWe the realest, pistol concealed, my percentage\nHigher than yours, Cash Money, I see no limits\nPort of Miami, then I drop Trilla\nEx-dope dealer worth eight figures\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nAt the top, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nOTF, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nGBE, we don't fuck with niggas\nAt the top, where you see us, nigga\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\n\nJust got back from Turks and Caicos, hoes all at the villa\nOnly nigga making albums with no fucking filler\nNew deal on the table, look like 'bout like ten milla\nShout my lawyer, man, he a contract killer\nYou know 305, Ricky, that's my fucking nigga\nDid this shit right here for Baka, Preme, Styles, and Gilla\nDid this shit right here for Reese, Sosa, Fredo, Durk\nYou let Drizzy get a verse, you gon' get this work\nYeah, at the top it's just us, nigga\nYeah, that's why I don't really trust niggas\nSee, my family and the money is a must, nigga\nAll the fame and all the pussy's just a plus, nigga\nYeah\n\nAt the top, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nOTF, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nGBE, we don't fuck with niggas\nAt the top, where you see us, nigga\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\nA small circle with no new niggas\nCause I don't really trust niggas\nGBE, it's just us nigga\nAnd she just wanna fuck with us\nSo much kush, keep me stuck, nigga\nIn other words, high as fuck, nigga\nLife's a movie, I'm a priceless picture\nFour hundred for the belt, nigga\nRight or wrong, you get left, nigga\nFor that bag, you get left, nigga\nFor my niggas, you get left, nigga\n\nAt the top, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nOTF, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nGBE, we don't fuck with niggas\nAt the top, where you see us, nigga\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\n\nI love this beat, aw man, I'm finna go bad\nI pay for pussy, aw man, she gotta be bad\nShe fuck with me, that bitch know I'm 'bout to buy them bags\nBeef with me, fuck boy, 'bout to go out back\nI woke up counting money, make confetti fall\nType of money, she fuck me, she gotta fuck us all\nThem other boys well known for letting niggas starve\nWe eating good, not my fault, it's Wingstop's\nMy new home look like it's Al Capone\nMy new bitch look like she in them folds\nMy new watch look like I had it stole\nBarry Weiss told me I'm gold, God forgives, I don't\nMe and Drizzy like The Beatles, nigga\nSame ones hating, wouldn't wanna be them niggas\nWe let 'em stare, but we don't see them niggas\nWe don't see them niggas\nAt the top, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nOTF, it's just us, nigga\nBut I don't really trust niggas\nGBE, we don't fuck with niggas\nAt the top, where you see us, nigga\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas\nSince a youngin, bitch, we been them niggas"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsTriple Beam Dreams Lyrics\n\nIt's time to take you to the other side\nThe side you gotta watch your A&E cable television for homie\nBut we live this shit\nI'm not a star, well that's a lie\nI seen a man raise his hand on the stand, he testified\nSpoke on the homicides, amongst other things\nEven shared my triple beam dreams\nA project minded individual, criminal tactics\nUs black kids born with birth defects, we hyperactive\nMentally sex-crazed, dysfunctional, they describe us\nThey liars, at the end of the day, we're fuckin' survivors\nI remember watchin' Scarface the first time\nLook at that big house, that Porsche paid for by crime\nHow could I sell this poison to my peoples, in my mind?\nThey dumb and destroy themselves is how I rationalize\nIn the bastardized nation, Magnum .45 carryin'\nWhere I'm from ain't far from Washington Heights to cop Aryan\nA rookie boy, the cookie didn't make no profit\nA stranger to the block, I damn near had to make them cop it\nIt only took a fiend to taste it once to say it's garbage\nI brought it back to papi, ain't tryna take no losses\nHe focuses on my emotionless young dealer face, then pauses\nHe gives me powder, he has faith in Nas' ambitions to distribute coke\nHad addictions to gold chains, Mercedes Benz hopes, but I'm again broke\nThis shit ain't cut for me, other dealers, they up their orders\nBarely at 62s, they already up to quarters\nThey out there every day, some true hustlers for you\nI'm at it half way, none of my customers are loyal\nPicturin' pipin' out the seats of a Pathfinder\nPowerful pursuit for pussy, cash, to flash diamonds\nMy junior high school class, wish I stayed there\nIllegal entrepreneur, I got my grades there\nBlamin' society, mad, it wasn't made fair\nI would be Ivy League if America played fair\nPoor excuse, and so I was\nThrowin' rocks at the pen, just for the love\nBefore the evil, the secret life of G's\nYou seein' me blurry, triple beam dreams\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nPocket full of money, parkin' lot full of them haters\nTriple beam dreamin', crib with 2 elevators\n20 flat screens and got cameras every angle\nDope been comin' so you know the income major\nRule number 1: I can't do business with a stranger\nContract killers comin' when I feel endangered\nEarly 90s reminiscin' when I had a pager\nTriple beam dreams: now Pat Riley my neighbor\n\nFuck boy, talkin' out of turn nigga\nIn the court room, spreadin' like a germ nigga\n25 on the line, them niggas droppin' dimes\nCooperation got them rednecks droppin' time\nKhaki suits and some niggas go to actin' cute\nWe was all cool, stackin' in Acura coupes\nMore accurately, we acted as is if jackin' was cool\nSnatchin' niggas out they shoes then wear jackets to school\nFuck boy, you caught up in my dream\nCountin' cream on the cover of a magazine\nI'm the source, got the plug with the uncut\nJay-Z Blue Magic nigga, what what\nBrand new S Class with a meal ticket\nNigga cocaine white as Tommy Hilfiger\nRalph Lauren Blue Label as I'm gettin' high\nTriple beam dreamin' as the cream multiples\nFuck boy, talkin' out of turn nigga\n'Fore you sell dope, it's shit you gotta learn nigga\nHome invasions, duct tape\nFornicatin', countin' money with a fuck face\nFuckin' bitches that be givin' up your whereabouts\nSlow leaks, gotta air em out\nKill 'em all, Rolls Royce Ghost nigga, ball\nPhantom drop head, shit I had to get em all\nNiggas hate but they know they never get involved\nFood on the plate, fuck em all, I could send my dog\nTriple beam dreams, the ghetto's my reality\nI'm from where your hustle determines your salary\nSix figure family member, nigga forget about it\nLow income housin', nigga tryna get up out it\nI got a plan little nigga, just believe in me\nTriple beam dreamin' with this thing in me\nPocket full of money, parkin' lot full of them haters\nTriple beam dreamin', crib with 2 elevators\n20 flat screens and got cameras every angle\nDope been comin' so you know the income major\nRule number 1: I can't do business with a stranger\nContract killers comin' when I feel endangered\nEarly 90s reminiscin' when I had a pager\nTriple beam dreams: now Pat Riley my neighbor"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsPirates Lyrics\nI guess there ain't no nice way to tell you niggas it's game over, huh?\nPray for me\n\nHallucination of money, while nigga's stomach just rumble\nHad to fuck with the Haitians and break a kilo to crumbles\nNigga livin' in rubble, but then I'm labelled a rebel\nAny nigga wan' rumble, somebody hand me a shovel\nGotta silence the lambs, get on my Buffalo Bill\nSteppin' off the Sonoma with the black duffle bag filled\nGot a cute bitch with me, favor Kimora, for real\nGot Meek Mill on the celly (Meek Milli) that nigga worth a few mil\nI multiply what I manage, I manage to multiply\nWitness real niggas fail, and watch you fuck niggas strive\nWitness bitch niggas tell, Jabar just got twenty-five\nAt this point in my life, I'm just tryna survive\nHomicide stay on my mind, Christopher Wallace of my time\nR.I.P. to the legend, 2Pac Shakur with a nine\nMakaveli returns, it's God forgives, and I don't\nResurrection of the real, time to get richer than Trump\n\nI'm rollin' the dice, four, five, six\nYoung nigga, nineteen, four or five bricks\nPrayin' on you niggas, sinners full of hate\nGod forgives and I don't, only hustlers relate\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nTryna keep my head above water, nigga\nWe pirates out here, nigga, just trying to stay afloat\nAnd I ride for my niggas\n\nFascination with fortune afford me mansion and Porsches\nPanameras abortion, marijuana imported\nDreams of gettin' cream and never to be extorted\nSeen so many things, be preposterous not to record it\nProduct is in demand, profit not far behind\nGot on my mother pearl, she fuckin' up father time\nBabies be havin' babies, I'm talkin' 'bout how I grind\nNiggas thinkin' it's voodoo the way bricks be multiplyin'\nAffiliated with wealth, associated with death\nSelf-made millionaire, snatch a triple beam off the shelf\nStraight Grim Reaper, Air Jordans walkin' the streets\nBlackberry boss, one call, ya put to sleep\n\nI'm rollin' the dice, four, five, six\nYoung nigga, nineteen, forty five bricks\nPrayin' on you niggas, sinners full of hate\nGod forgives and I don't, only hustlers relate\n\nThe Lord is my light and my salvation\nBut I see none of you fuck niggas\nFuck what you heard, nigga\nI need to feel it\nI need to smell it\nI need to see it"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsMafia Music Lyrics\nYeah, I got a feelin' nigga, really that my money be the root\nLook up at the stars, she like, \"Honey, where the roof?\"\nPull up, hear the dogs, Canaries, they gon' woof\nEven once had a job pourin' tar up on a roof\nThat boy had it hard, no facade, it's the truth\nSo now when I menage and get massaged it's the proof\nProof's in the pudding and that baking soda cakin'\nPaper that I'm makin' got her takin' photos naked\nListenin' to niggas like whistlin' at Wendy Williams\nI flip my middle finger, I'm chillin' on twenty million\nThe rumors turn me on, I'm masturbatin' at the top\nThese hoes so excited, so they catchin' every drop\nI'm dodgin' debacles like potholes in Jamaica\nWe cut down the weed, bury the paper on the 'maicas\nMartin had a dream, Bob got high\nI still do both but somehow I got by\nCreflo prayed, Mike Vick paid\nBobby Brown straight, Whitney lost weight\nKimbo Slice on the pad when I write\nThat Mayweather money lookin' funny in the light\nBut who really cares? We just throw it in the air\nCelebratin' wealth, pourin' Moet in her hair\nExcuse me, her weave, the bluest of weed\nTrunk full of white, car smell like blue cheese\nThat boy get salad, beef bowel movements\nBMWs on them big thangs lookin' foolish\nShawty sitting low, big thangs popping\nTip on the Glock from a Crip up in Compton\nShootin' at the cops, fuck one-time\nI gave her to the block, I fucked one time\nWe Boyz N the Hood, and nigga, you lil' Tre\nSuppress ya appetite, we takin' ya lil' tray\nLove my handgun, but my choppa still the shit\nBanned in 1994, but I'm \"2 Legit 2 Quit\"\n1996, kilos was the shit\nBut that was better than roofin', that shit be bad fo' ya skin\nNiggas was ruthless, Lord knows that I sin\nBut I thought about my future and the loops I could pin\nWalked out on the gig and I turned to the streets\nKept my name low-key, I ain't heard from in weeks\nI came up wit a strategy to come up mathematically\nI did it for the city but now everybody mad at me\nMotherfuck 'em all, they sweat from my balls\nIf I drop another album, I did that for my dawgs\nTen Maybachs everybody ridin' big\nI just sit back like, \"Look what I did\"\nThen I bow my head and beg for forgiveness\nOnce I said my prayer, everybody back to business\nSmokin' on a blunt in my own restaurant\nPeople lookin' from a distance think I'm Big Daddy Conch\nReincarnated, spirit of a G\nBeef I'll make you thinner, take a seat so we can eat\nA Farrakhan aura, pause on the pork\nYou eat from the bowl, while your dog need a fork\nNiggas ain't loyal, snakes slithered in they coil\nI'm laughin' at you cuz, kill you niggas when I'm bored (yeah!)\nWe steppin' on you crew 'til them motherfuckers crush\nAnd makin' sweet love to every women that ya lust\nI love to pay ya bills, can't wait to pay ya rent\nCurtis Jackson baby mama, I ain't askin' for a cent\nBurn the house down nigga, you gotta buy another\nDon't forget the gas can, jealous stupid motherfucker\nTo another chapter, paper that I captured\nCaught up in the rapture off gunshots and laughter\nHomicide is humor and nigga you lookin' funny\nWomen love to stare cause they know they see the money\nI open up her mind by openin' bank accounts\nDeposit a hundred stacks, break-up, won't take it out\nBaby that's a gift, maybe you could live\nI knew it wouldn't work but, I just like to give\nUsed to run the street, young nigga bare feet\nNow I'm in the suites and I'm eatin' crab meats\nIce so right, other rappers envy\nThey callin' all my jewelers up, askin what he spendin' (whaaat?)\nThinkin' 'bout Boss, not thinkin' 'bout them\nThis a letter to my enemies, one I won't send\nAmenSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsBox Chevy Lyrics\nGo on jump\nNo I don't wanna jump\nYes you do. You smoke crack don't you? You smoke crack don't you?\nLook at me boy, don't you smoke crack?\nYes, sir\nYou know what that does to you? Huh?\nNo, sir\nIt kills your brain cells son, it kills your brain cells! Now when you're destroying your brain cells you are doing the same thing as killing yourself, you are just doing it slower. I say if you wanna kill yourself don't fuck around with it, do it expeditiously. Now go on and jump! Jump!\n\nMaybach Music\nI smell pussy on these niggas man\nC'mon nig, lets do it\n\nI try to let you pussy niggas eat\nIt's time to put your pussy boys to sleep\nPussy niggas always wanna talk\nI'm busy getting pussy like a fucking boss\n\nI smell a pussy from a block away\nLets shoot them pussies from a block away\nThey wanna see a nigga in a cage\nBaby mama garnishing a nigga wage\nI just went and got the Chevy sprayed\nPussy nigga wanna scratch a nigga paint\nPussy nigga wanna see you fall\nJust know to bring them choppers when you see me call\nI tried to let them pussy niggas eat\nIt's time to make you pussy boys extinct\nI took a quarter Key to Polk county\nAll my central Florida nigga straight 'bout it\nBroke down the brick I'm back in Bartow\nBelle Glade box Chevy on my car phone\nJ-Ville I went and bought a condo\nBack to the crib where I get it by the car load\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI started with a box Chevy\nThen I got the blue Lexus\nMy bitch stay down with me\nSo now she got the new Lexus\n\nI went and got my bitch her very own salon\nGet her hair do everyday do the fuck she want\nI started in a box Chevy\nNow my watch a buck eighty\nI heard the same pussy niggas hatin'\nThe killers comin stay patient\nI made a killing milkin Okeechobee\nI'm talkin millions with that okey dokey\nPop a molly now that bitch sweatin'\nOr is it just a nigga necklace?\nI tried to let you pussy niggas eat\nI pray that all you pussy boys decease\n\nI started with a box Chevy\nThen I got the blue Lexus\nMy bitch stay down with me\nSo now she got the new Lexus\nI try to let you pussy niggas eat\nIt's time to put your pussy boys to sleep\nPussy niggas always wanna talk\nI'm busy getting pussy like a fucking boss\nMaybach Music\n\nI started with a box Chevy\nThen I got the blue Lexus\nMy bitch stay down with me\nSo now she got the new Lexus\n\nMaybach Music"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsDrug Dealer\u2019s Dream Lyrics\nPlease hold while I locate your information. Your checking account available balance is $92,153,183.28. This reflects the most current information available on your account\n\nThis on everything I love\nI done came too far to look back\nLord protect my soul, you heard me?\nCheck\n\nMighty Muhammad, son of Osama\nSon of a bitch, one time for my momma\nTats on my back, tats on my face\nBitch I'm a don, can you relate?\nIt's never too late, my niggas, relate\nNever would say, my niggas is saints\nKnow I'm a sinner, God give me my sentence\nLabelled a hustler, look at my Benz\nOne time for Black, nigga, one time for Nut, nigga\nOne time for Gucci, nigga, one time for Cano, nigga\nOne time for Bizzle, nigga, these my realest niggas\nOne time for Trav, nigga, and all them dope dealers\n\nMurder, a mothafuckin' murder\nNo you didn't see it but I know you bitches heard it\nBlood on the corner, damn I miss my dawg\nI'm just thinkin' 'bout his daughter, in another life he ballin'\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nIs this a drug dealers dream?\nCause all I ever see is niggas dyin' from disease\nMansion on the water, home in the hills\nLet the Fed tell it, it really isn't his\nPhotograph our endeavors, plottin' potential set-ups\nSee me as a promotion, tax charges, etcetera\nConfiscated the whips, concentratin' on flips\nContemplatin' the trip, congregatin' for bricks\nLord knows I'm a sinner, it was cold in the winter\nEatin' out of the trash, shit would make you a killer\nLord forgive these bitches, gettin' their money strippin'\nChasin' this fast money, next time we'll do it different\nShoutout to KOD, shoutout to Onyx nigga\nShoutout to MMG, cause we the hottest nigga\n\nMurder, a mothafuckin' murder\nNo you didn't see it but I know you bitches heard it\nBlood on the corner, damn I miss my dawg\nI'm just thinkin' 'bout his daughter, in another life he ballin'\n\nAggravated with hoes, distracted all of my foes\nNiggas want to be friends, we just takin' control\nNigga vision the clearest, I get shooters on clearance\nBarely fit in a Lambo but did it for the appearance\nI seen a rich nigga go to jail\nHe put Wi Fi in his cell\nMiddle of the night, my nigga wanna Skype\nI just count money for him, that shit just get him hype\nThey say it's hard to smile with a double life\nIn the middle of the night with a bloody knife\nLord give him a chance, every man should be free\nHe wanted him a degree but got him a ki\nOpen that door, just hopin' for more\nThey gave him a bond, I gave him a Porsche\nI gave him a name, I gave him a shot\nI gave him the game, I gave him a block\nSmokin' on that gas, I be thinkin' too fast\nDrug dealer's dream, now let's count this cash\nDope boy tatted on my neck\nA real dope boy, I never write a check\nMurder, a mothafuckin' murder\nNo you didn't see it but I know you bitches heard it\nBlood on the corner, damn I miss my dawg\nI'm just thinkin' 'bout his daughter, in another life he ballin'"}
{"text":"40 Contributors911 Lyrics\nGod forgives, I don't\nIn other words, retaliation is a must!\nBoom boom boom boom!\n\nI bow my head, I pray to God\nSurvival of the fittest: help me hold my chopper lord\nIf I die today, on the highway to heaven\nCan I let my top down in my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nFinancial fanatic, 40 bricks in my attic\n400K in my baggage, 80 round automatic\nYou can't stop a bullet, this one for the money\nSecret indictments, Porsche costs me 200\n\nFuck all these broke niggas cause all I do is ball\nAin't no more off days, my crib look like a mall\nFired the stylist, went and bought a big and tall\nNiggas still schemin', but we slidin' on 'em all\nI remember pickin' watermelons\nNow the Porsche cost me a quarter million\nIf I die tonight I know I'm comin' back nigga\nReincarnated: big black fat nigga\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI bow my head, I pray to God\nSurvival of the fittest: help me hold my chopper lord\nIf I die today, on the highway to heaven\nCan I let my top down in my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nFinancial fanatic, 40 bricks in my attic\n400K in my baggage, 80 round automatic\nYou can't stop a bullet, this one for the money\nSecret indictments, Porsche costs me 200\n\nFuck your investigation, study my elevation\nCherry red 911, straight to my destination\nMayweather got a fight, make me some reservations\nKnew I flew private nigga, strapped with no hesitations\nGucci Pucci money long, he got 20 cars\nGraduated from them blocks, now it's stocks and bonds\nHoes wanna know, hoes wanna show\nThey know a nigga's name, they know a nigga's strong, fuck with me\n\nI bow my head, I pray to God\nSurvival of the fittest: help me hold my chopper lord\nIf I die today, on the highway to heaven\nCan I let my top down in my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nFinancial fanatic, 40 bricks in my attic\n400K in my baggage, 80 round automatic\nYou can't stop a bullet, this one for the money\nSecret indictments, Porsche costs me 200\nFuck your insinuation, work come from Venezuela\nLove me some skinny bitches, fat boy just 'bout his paper\nHustle while niggas gossip, hatin', that switch the topic\nJump in my 911, 2 bricks in my compartment\nShe let me smell her pussy\nI know you smell the money\nStill smell the gunpowder\n911: 100 miles and runnin'\n\nI bow my head, I pray to God\nSurvival of the fittest: help me hold my chopper lord\nIf I die today, on the highway to heaven\nCan I let my top down in my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nIn my 911?\nFinancial fanatic, 40 bricks in my attic\n400K in my baggage, 80 round automatic\nYou can't stop a bullet, this one for the money\nSecret indictments, Porsche costs me 20"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsBlack Magic Lyrics\n(Poof!) There go the car (Poof!) There go the crib\n(Poof!) A hundred mil (Whoop!) David Copperfield\n(Huh!) David Copperfield\n(M-M-Maybach Music) David Copperfield\n(Poof!) There go the car (Poof!) There go the crib\n(Poof!) A hundred mil (Whoop!) David Copperfield\n(Huh!) David Copperfield\n(M-M-Maybach Music) David Copperfield\n\nCould you knock that ho? Could you blame that bitch?\nCause she wanna roll with a real nigga like me\nThat's gon' slang that dick?\nLike coke to a fiend, fuck throat on the lean\nTake long on the Perc', now that ho on a bean\nStill money over these hoes, got YSL on my clothes\nAnd blood drip on my sneakers\nNigga, you hating on me, she chose\nAnd I ain't fuck your girl, she rode, my stick-shift she drove\nDid everything that she 'posed\nI pulled my camera out and she posed\nAnd I was like, \"Got that, drop that, pop that\"\nGot the top back on the dropback, I'm back\nAnd the Glock at where the crotch at, I'm strapped\nAll the rocks at where the watch at, stop that\nCould you cop that? Not that\nI'm like, \"Send the mob at\", dime sack\nI'm catching on contact, got racks\nY'all niggas ain't 'bout that, 'bout that life! (Hahaha)\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\n(Poof!) There go the car (Poof!) There go the crib\n(Poof!) A hundred mil (Whoop!) David Copperfield\n(Huh!) David Copperfield\n(M-M-Maybach Music) David Copperfield\n(Poof!) There go the car (Poof!) There go the crib\n(Poof!) A hundred mil (Whoop!) David Copperfield\n(Huh!) David Copperfield\n(M-M-Maybach Music) David Copperfield\n\nPoof! Nigga fuck your life\nFuck your niggas and fuck your wife (Fuck 'em!)\nGot two bad bitches with a nigga\nAnd you know they gon' fuck all night (Right)\nAnd I rock hard white, nigga wrist game proud\nI'll pull up on whores and I'm sitting on fours in a big boy drop\nCall big boy shots, all clear stones in my big boy watch\nAll year long, got the strip on lock\nEvery time we in this bitch, man, shit gon' pop\nMy hip on Glock, your hip on nothin'\nMy niggas got racks, y'all niggas be frontin'\nRed Cartier, redbone bitch\nRed Bottoms on her, hair long as shit, hold up\nYellow gold Ro', yellowbone ho\nAnd yellow bottles of Spades nigga, whole clique self made nigga\nPoof!\n(Poof!) There go the car (Poof!) There go the crib\n(Poof!) A hundred mil (Whoop!) David Copperfield\n(Huh!) David Copperfield\n(M-M-Maybach Music) David Copperfield\n(Poof!) There go the car (Poof!) There go the crib\n(Poof!) A hundred mil (Whoop!) David Copperfield\n(Huh!) David Copperfield\n(M-M-Maybach Music) David Copperfield"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsSantorini Greece Lyrics\nSometimes I be wanting to say, \"Fuck the world!\"\nI don't give a fuck!\nI'll shoot it out with all you bitches\nBitches don't love me\nYoung black nigga, nigga fighting the world, nigga\nEverywhere you go, bitches throwing rocks, nigga\nMan, a nigga in a Lamborghini\n\nSeen a Cuban kilo, I was 15 (Huh)\nDealin' yayo, never had my teeth cleaned\nRestricted license but I'm so divisive\nI know the snipers and I flow the nicest (Woo)\nFresher than Groovey Lew at a Coogi shoot (Ahh)\nA multiple weapons in my new Gucci boots\nThe bank account done caught the holy ghost (Huh)\nI say the bank account done caught the holy ghost\nHot pastrami for my Jewish chicks\nEight days of Christmas, every day a newer gift\nI'm Michael Jackson to the rich niggas\nThat leather jacket, baby, with the 6 zippers\nSuicide, or rather crucified (Huh)\nI prophesize your whole crew demise\nMutulu wife reside in Cuba, nigga\nShoot you, let you bleed out, it's how they do a nigga\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nHuh! Huh!\nYou niggas don't believe in God\nFrom this very moment, you should believe in God (Uh)\n\nHalf of my niggas headed to Attica\nEither traffickin' or destined to be a janitor\nDiabetes rampant in my blood line\nThat why fat boy be happy to see the sunshine\nI'm here for results, baby, let's cut to chase\nSticky fingers and paper, D.A. will drop the case (Woo)\nArt Basel with Lyor I blew 300 with 'em (Huh)\n2 seaters for all the soldiers who runnin' with 'em (Ahh)\nAsk 100 women, yeah they wanna hit 'em\nI be half awake and still be runnin' in 'em (Woo)\nTwo new liter Sprite to get me through the night\nBowlin' alley in the basement but we still shootin' dice (haha)\nRich forever, killa take my old advice (Yeah)\nBetter yet, take my old bitches and mold 'em right (Talk)\nAnd if I want her back, I come and take her back (Boss)\nSantorini Greece, I put it on the map\n\nSome points you niggas gotta be grateful\nMutulu Shakur\nI know your dreads touching the floor, nigga\nWe in the last days, these racist agendas\nBlatant double standards because I'm a nigga\nJesse Jackson on them people payroll (Fuck him)\nWhen you black, lips chapped 'cause the game cold\nI'm givin' niggas jobs when I sing songs (Let's go)\nWhite man love me when I get my bling on (Nigga)\nBut you hate me buyin' real estate in foreign land (What)\nRespect my genius, all my people Portishead (What)\nRoom full of cloaks and they countin' votes\nMillion man march and I'm takin' notes (Huh)\nMade it to the top, you thought they saw a ghost (Yeah)\nFacin' tax evasion, niggas sell they soul\nSo sellin' dope was the path we chose\nAnd now it's boats and the Belaire Rose (Woo)\nRich niggas in the set and stone (Woo)\nNeck rocky, Sylvester Stallone (Woo)\nSee me in Capri or them Andes (Huh)\nSantorini, Greece with a dime piece (Huh)\nMy money long, you know I'm out your reach (Nigga)\nOnly fat nigga joggin' on the beach (Haha)\nVersace underwear but see the ass crack (Ha)\nOblivious to how rapid my cash stack\nI'm a pistol toter, fuck I'm votin' for? (Fuck 'em)\nIf I could, I'd drop a bomb, let's take 'em all to war (Fuck 'em)\nMy favorite shorty out of Baltimore (Yeah)\nEvery Chanel you know I bought it for her (I got that)\nAll the arguments she never called the law\nI was never home but hid the money in the walls\nConstant visits from the A.T.F\nSo I copped some cribs in the A.T.L\nMartha Stewart decorated both (Ha)\nSnoop Dogg donated the smoke\nThis Chinese arithmetic, and it all add up\nIt all add up\nBink Dog, Big Boss\nHuh! Huh!Embed"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsTears of Joy Lyrics\nDo you know what we are going to do? We are going to defend ourselves because Huey P. Newton says that, \"Power is the ability to define phenomena and make it act in a desired manner.\" Power is the ability to define phenomena and make it act in a desired manner. Power: if we have the ability to define it, the only next thing to do is get organized. So when a pig walks up to you, or when a pig gets to jiving with the people you be so organized you be learning some tactics, you be learning some revolutionary principles, you be having some guns hid out somewhere, you have some proper tactics that when the pig gets to jiving with you, the pig is wrong, you whip your guns out on him, blow him away, and then you have made the ability, in fact, you have made that pig act in a desired manner\n\nSmokin' a fat spliff in a brand new Benz\nNo I.D. on the track, let the story begin, begin\nHah, yeah\n\nLookin' in the mirror but I don't see much\nStill runnin' the streets so I don't sleep much\nWatchin' the snakes so they don't creep up\nBut the way I'm gettin' this money, niggas can't keep up\nYou niggas can't keep up\nNiggas got beef but it can\u2019t be much\nI'm still walkin' through the crowds like I can't be touched\nTop back all black, Gretzky puck\nIce skater lil' later might let me fuck\nDamn, she might let me fuck\nLast night I cried tears of joy\nWhat did I do to deserve this?\nVacheron on my wrist a year ago\nI didn't even know the bitches exist\nQuarter milli for the mothafucka\nNo insurance on the mothafucka\nAin't life a bitch?\nBut you gotta keep her wet\nKeys open doors so I gotta keep a set\nEverybody know that I'm a lotta people's threat\nBiggie Smalls in the flesh livin' life after my death\nYesterday I read my horoscope\nTell me Lord will I be poor and broke?\nTell me Lord will I be dealin' dope?\nI wanna take my momma to the Poconos\nBut only Lord knows\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nGoodbye, to all the loved ones I leave behind\nAt least they can't see me cry\nAnd I ask, when someone wants to be me, whyyyy\nThought havin' everything would ease my mind\nIf you could read my mind\nMy God, I'm scarred, I have tattoo tears of joy\n\nLast night I cried tears of joy\nWhat did I do to deserve this?\nYoung rich motherfucker still uneducated\nBut dammit a nigga made it\nGoddamn a nigga made it\nCrib bigger than a church, Lord know I'm blessed\nFive different lawyers, Lord know I\u2019m stressed\nA punch in the face get you 300K\nAsk Vlad, now he back to makin' minimum wage\nAnother victim of my criminal ways\nI wanna walk in the image of Christ\nBut that bitch Vivica nice\nAnd I'm still swimmin' in ice\nI'm just livin' my life\nI'm just livin' my life\nLease a Lamborghini for your pussy rate\nLife is just a pussy race\nSnatch a bitch take her back to your place\nNext morning I can tell you how the pussy taste\nI got expensive taste\nGoodbye, to all the loved ones I leave behind\nAt least they can't see me cry\nAnd I ask, when someone wants to be me, whyyyy\nThought havin' everything would ease my mind\nIf you could read my mind\nMy God, I'm scarred, I have tattoo tears of joy\n\nLast night I cried tears of joy\nWhat did we do to deserve this?\nNot to dwell on the the past but to keep it real\nI gotta represent for Emmett Till\nAll the dead souls in the field\nLookin at my Rollie it's about that time\nWhite man had a problem with mine\nAnd we suppose to be shy?\nThe revolution's televised\nBobby still on the rise\n\nGoodbye, to all the loved ones I leave behind\nAt least they can't see me cry\nAnd I ask, when someone wants to be me, whyyyy\nThought havin' everything would ease my mind\nIf you could read my mind\nMy God, I'm scarred, I have tattoo tears of joy"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsTrap Trap Trap Lyrics\nBeep, beep\nI'm sittin' at the red light\nMy ankle monitor beepin'\nHadn't been charged (fuck that)\nI think I see the people (let's bounce, man)\nMmm, bounce (Maybach Music)\n\nI took my roof off at the red light\nI took my roof off at the red light\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nBrown bag legend 'cause it's all cash\nBrown bag legend when it's all cash\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\n\nFirst one on the block, woah, I need mine off the top, uh\nOvertown, he got shot, but he died in Opa-locka\nCouldn't save one lung, hit 'em up, Lum Lum\nSee the look on my face (woo!) like Carol City won state\nNiggas hate on my sound, 'til I went the first round\nThen I earnt the Lombardi, ain't no fuckboys allowed\nOnly fuck if she exclusive, her favorite rapper Lil Boosie\nTo tell the truth I didn't ask, when it come to bitches I'm Gucci\nI'm the wrong one to rob, in the jungle I'm Nas\nIn the label I'm Russ, in the trap I'm Rick Ross\nDouble M, Goldman Sachs, just like Omar and Khloe\nYou came down for the packs, I sent you right back loaded\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI took my roof off at the red light\nI took my roof off at the red light\nI took my roof off at the red light\nRoof off at the red light\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nTrap, trap\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh, sheesh\nBrown bag legend 'cause it's all cash\nBrown bag legend when it's all cash (Stop talking)\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap (Jeffery)\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap (Yeah)\n\nI was tryna bet the whole map\nOut in Vegas, out the trap\nNiggas talkin' 'bout raidin' the trap\nMan, I'm 'bout to go ape in the trap (nigga goin' ape shit)\nNigga, watch your babies in the trap\nNigga cookin' oil base in the trap\nYoung nigga slave in the trap\nNigga run base, base in the trap\nI'm 'bout to get this shit movin', yeah\nAnswer the door with the Woolie, yeah\nWrist in the water, I need me a boat\nI'm 'bout to get this shit cruisin', yeah\nStand at the stove 'til you're woozy, woozy\nLet's make a movie, movie, yeah\nMove, move, move\nBitch, I'm richer than Tom Cruise, yeah\nSo many different meds on me\nFuck around, call the Fed on me\nChk-chk, boom boom boom your head, homie, reds\nDraco got a lot of lead on it, you dead (yeah, yeah)\nI took my roof off at the red light\nI took my roof off at the red light\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nBrown bag legend 'cause it's all cash\nBrown bag legend when it's all cash\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\n\nYeah, Wale though, uh, uh\nI ain't nothin' like the trap niggas, Goyard backpack nigga\nUber crates 'til the Feds pull up, woo woo, cataracts, nigga\nI'm the type, holla at the wife, her body yours, but her soul is mine\nAdios, do 120, all she want is good dick and advice\nWraith, scrappin' my tires, Jameson 'til I'm fried\nFamous here but I'm humble, Double M the Empire (M-M-Maybach Music)\nRenzel got me all day, I'm Kyrie, he LeBron James\nTired niggas say Folarin ain't top, I been SportsCenter erryday\nI ain't nothin' like them trap guys, I mean I kinda do bag dimes\nI kinda never do back down, leave a nigga high via rap lines\nGet a beat, leave it baptized, mob ties, but it's black lives\nBlack lives, nigga, trap lives, gimme five on the black side\n\nI took my roof off at the red light\nI took my roof off at the red light\nI took my roof off at the red light\nRoof off at the red light\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nTrap, trap\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh, sheesh\nBrown bag legend 'cause it's all cash\nBrown bag legend when it's all cash (Stop talking)\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap (Jeffery)\nTrap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap (Yeah)"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsAmsterdam Lyrics\nWe get ghost, you already know what it is\nMoney stuffed in my bag\nMaybach shit\nCameras in the ceiling, C\u00e9line on my arm\n\nBright lights and dark corners as night embark on us\nRefugees runnin' wild, Wyclef with a SIG Sauer\nNothin' to lose, I was starvin' from the start\nNow the same cat drivin' Jaguars\nOpen fire when you see me yell out and make em whisper\nThe club that I'm a member, they'll be gone by November\nKeys to the city got killers who slither with me\nLamborghini, middle of the ghetto, smoke a fat fifty\nBillionaire bid, wrists on chill\nStandin' in the field of dreams, tryna see a hundred mil\nThese boys goin' blind they just happy bein' free\nIn a world of so many I just wanted me a ki'\nSheesh! I just wanted me a piece\nSlice of cheesecake before my niggas all deceased\nThese boys snort lines, I'm fine just sippin' wine\nAmsterdam in the air, tomorrow on my mind\n\nI'm Berry Gordy to the streets\nWith a kilo, so that boy had been a beast\nI wanna be there when each one of my kids born\nRoyal blood, hundred acres each to live on\nReal nigga to the day that I'm deceased\nEven then I pray I'm livin' through these beats\nDope boy, you can tell by my sneaks\nBurnin' Amsterdam green where it falls like a leaf\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nBorn in the bricks with the short end of the stick\nAlways runnin' late, quick to show up with your bitch\nThe Hublot's cool but my Terminator's foolish\nAll stainless steel, quick to match it with my tool and\nRed carpet event, the marijuana be lit\nRed or blue, do you, as long as you're gettin' rich\nCrack game, champagne, kilos on the stock exchange\nRolls Royce, new Ghost, that's a nigga pocket change\nThese niggas actin' like they want a war!\nWhen it come to whackin' niggas I done won awards\nNigga, you a bitch, where yo' Honda Accord?\nI'm ridin' in some shit only I can afford\nShouldn't claim the hood til you build a rapport\nAmsterdam state of mind: I just gave you a tour\nI'm laughin' at the people who label me poor\nNow I piss on Europeans, you'd think it was porn\n\nI'm Berry Gordy to the streets\nWith a kilo, so that boy had been a beast\nI wanna be there when each one of my kids born\nRoyal blood, hundred acres each to live on\nReal nigga to the day that I'm deceased\nEven then I pray I'm livin' through these beats\nDope boy, you can tell by my sneaks\nBurnin' Amsterdam green where it falls like a leaf\nI'm speakin' on unwritten laws, the code of the streets\nI'm not the type of nigga that you bump into at a 7-11 and just pull your pistol on him\nAnd do what the fuck you want to do\nNiggas like me, you gotta get permission homie\nAnd that could take a long time!\nIn that time, I'mma handle my motherfuckin' business..\nUgh! Ugh!\nIt's the red light district, nigga this Amsterdam\nWherever the fuck I'm at\nIt's a no go\nWe green light you bitch niggas\nRozay"}
{"text":"50 ContributorsTen Jesus Pieces Lyrics\nGod forgives, He's so honorable\nBut livin' amongst thieves and niggas like myself\nYou will not have that luxury\n\nI wake up excited, I made it through the night\nThings I did in the dark, will it ever see the light?\nMy nerves should be a wreck, I got a bad chick\nShe keeps me erect, she loves my ad-libs\nI think I'm a genius, hundred grand a fuckin' feature\nI do at least three a week, roll up the fuckin' reefer\nWent from Benihana to Bimini in Bahamas\nTen chains, no luggage, I'm a big timer\nNiggas claim that they thuggin' when they dick-ridin'\nMy niggas rather walk, do they own brick climbin'\nOn the block in my all white sneakers\nLord knows in my ten Jesus pieces\nPray for me cause you know a nigga doin' wrong\nMy homie in the cell, so I had to write a poem\nCount mills for the times that we had it hard\nAskin' for a hundred mill as I pray to God\nI do this for my niggas facin' hard times\nCan't be on them corners if you hustlin' part time\nTen chains on, Eric B with mob ties\nRakim flows, comin' from the Pharcyde\nBlood diamonds and my pieces from apartheid\nQuick to quote a prayer, pull it from the archives\nI pray for every soul that this music reaches\nBury me a G, ten Jesus pieces\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nYoung nigga comin' up, they wanna gun you down\nDrinkin' vodka in the memory of my nigga, damn (I miss you P-Nut)\nRidin' real slow on them all golds (we had them nigga)\nShoppin' for them Os when the mall close\nReppin' for your homies when they all gone\nGet empowered then you put your dog on (Real shit)\nAll black tees, ten gold chains\nAt the Super Bowl, but we in the dope game\nTen years strong in the same trap\nTen years blowin' on that strong pack\nLord knows that I wanna live right\nBut Lord knows what that Club Liv like (right)\nForty dollar tab meanin' forty grand\nLil Wodie got it rolled up in a rubber band\nHoldin' on the forty in his other hand\nTen chains on, smokin' in the motherland\n\nI do this for my niggas facin' hard times\nCan't be on them corners if you hustlin' part time\nTen chains on, Eric B with mob ties\nRakim flows, comin' from the Pharcyde\nBlood diamonds and my pieces from apartheid\nQuick to quote a prayer, pull it from the archives\nI pray for every soul that this music reaches\nBury me a G, ten Jesus pieces\nI'm his poltergeist, niggas know I'm more than nice\nAll these jewels on, all Moissanites\nI could see it in the sparkle cause it lackluster\nBlack card maxed out, damn black brother\nWhite collar, black market\nChrome Smith and Wesson, back pocket\nEight shot, bitch I'm a top shotta\nScreamin' your affiliations, but that don't matter\nI'm flyin' first class as the snakes slither\nNever blackmail a motherfuckin' killer\nOn trial and they wanna execute me\nIt's really sad, just the fact they never knew me\nTrue G to the core, feel my texture\nA true G keeps it raw in his lecture\nKeep it simple, white tee, new sneakers\nDope boy style, ten Jesus pieces\n\nI do this for my niggas facin' hard times\nCan't be on them corners if you hustlin' part time\nTen chains on, Eric B with mob ties\nRakim flows, comin' from the Pharcyde\nBlood diamonds and my pieces from apartheid\nQuick to quote a prayer, pull it from the archives\nI pray for every soul that this music reaches\nBury me a G, ten Jesus pieces\nVersace shirt, Jesus layin' on the chest\nMan I swear Big did it the best, I mean\nNas did it fresh, Jay did it fresh, I mean\nYe did it fresh, but man Big did it the best\nAnd I was so impressed that I went and got ten\nNow I'm stuntin' on these niggas cause I couldn't back then\nRose gold, yellow gold, a couple platinum\nAnd I wear them all at once, I ain't tryna match them\nI remember bumpin' Mack 10 and that deuce in the corner\nScrapin' up for a sandwich and a soda\nNow my strength is up and I'm danglin' chains off my shoulders\nBut no Jesus piece on mine, cause at times I feel ashamed\nFor the reason that I buy em\nAnd they say, because I'm Muslim I shouldn't think about the shine\nOr even put it in a rhyme\nIt's better things I could talk about or put my money towards\nBut for now, I'mma wear these ten chains and floss\n\nI do this for my niggas facin' hard times\nCan't be on them corners if you hustlin' part time\nTen chains on, Eric B with mob ties\nRakim flows, comin' from the Pharcyde\nBlood diamonds and my pieces from apartheid\nQuick to quote a prayer, pull it from the archives\nI pray for every soul that this music reaches\nBury me a G, ten Jesus pieces\n\nWe untouchable\n\nXolaal sama guys, dundu ben yoon la\nDangay dundu sa dundu, gemm Yalla\nLigeey, xalis, gnax, amoul nelaw, gnaf\u00e8\nSa life yako dugal, ken du ko jappale\nYow ya ray sa bopp ba dee. Moy loolu\nMi historia es complicada, pero al final del dia valio la pena, porque ahora estoy trabajando con el jefe\nYo vivi en Colombia y vivi muchas cosas, me entiende?\nVi muertes...vi muertes...vi cuerpos en las calles, sangrando despues del colegio, con 12, 13 a\u00f1os viendo estas cosas en la calle\nY siempre queria venir para aqui otra vez, y me vine, y trabaje porque tenia otra mentalidad. Y cuando llegue aca entendi mi proposito: hacer dinero, ser rico para siempre\nDios perdona, yo no"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsAll Birds Lyrics\nWalk with a real nigga\nSelf-made millionaire (M-M-M-Maybach Music)\nWhat more could you ask for, huh?\n\nI'm a kamikaze in a Maserati\nI'm a John Gotti, got my own army\nWorth fifty million and it's all on me\nFifty on my Rollie, knowin' yours phony\nLast problem I had, a nigga headshot him\nSay the word on the street is that my man got him\nIf I wasn't involved you wouldn't hear about him\nI got Lears and all, don't need Aaliyah problems\nMay she rest her soul, I got a sleeping problem\nAll my CDs gold but the Visa darker\nBastard child but I got a fleet of cars\nDouble MG this little thing of ours\nTake it to the door, a motherfucker plea\nNiggas layin' on your crib while your momma sleep\nHome-cooked meals for the real niggas\nHot TEC-9 for you little niggas\nWanna shoplift? Come and boost this\nWe run the fucking game, nigga, truth is (Maybach Music)\nCargo pants and my red bottoms\nTalking 'bout birds, you know the boy got 'em\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nNo clothes in the closet, it's all birds (Hah)\nNo sneakers in the sneaker box, it's all birds (Hah)\nNo luggage in the trunk, man, it's all birds (Hah)\nAnd I ain't going back, I'ma ball first (Uh)\n\nAnything you need, know I get it cheap (Hah)\nMy nigga Rozay make millions while he getting sleep (Hah)\nCars European, come and see the fleet (Hah)\nWe're commercial, come and see us if you need the street (Hah)\nI'ma bring it home nigga, bet the bank (Hah)\nSierra Leone all up in the link (Bling)\n'Bout to double up, Mason Betha shit (Hah)\nHuddle up, round table, King Arthur shit (Arthur shit)\nShorty ass fat, she can't stand straight (Hah)\nSpent your down payment on my landscape\nNiggas sideways like the Phantom door\nHundred round drum sound like round of applause (Blrrt!)\nSlicker than a can of grease\nPaid the state in the ice, hundred grand a piece\nCoke Boy, I'll be thirty for sure now\nCoke damn near same price as dope now (Hah)\n\nNo clothes in the closet, it's all birds (Hah)\nNo sneakers in the sneaker box, it's all birds (Hah)\nNo luggage in the trunk, man, it's all birds (Hah)\nAnd I ain't going back, I'ma ball first (Hah)\nNo clothes in the closet, it's all birds (Hah)\nNo sneakers in the sneaker box, it's all birds (Hah)\nNo luggage in the trunk, man, it's all birds (Hah)\nAnd I ain't going back, I'ma ball first\nM-M-Maybach Music"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsMC Hammer Lyrics\nBoss\nRicky Ross\nIt's Triple C's\nColor cut clarity\n\nMy gun dirty, my brick clean\nI'm ridin' dirty, my dick clean\nShe talk dirty, but her mouth clean\nBitch, I'm MC Hammer, I'm about cream\nI got 30 cars, whole lot of dancers\nI take them everywhere, I'm MC Hammer\nStarted sellin' dope, I'm too legit to quit\nWhen it's hammer time, I'm pullin' out the stick\n\nI'm at the car lot, I'm goin' broke\nI pay for 5, they front a couple mo'\nI take them home, like I do my hoes\nI dress them up, I buy them clothes\nGlass slippers, I gas hoes\nNow she's actin' brand new on you assholes\nLimousines, I did that\nTwo door coupes, boy I live that\nMy top back, uncircumcised\nI pull it back, just to go inside\nShe thinkin' Phillipe's, I'm thinkin' Wing Stop\nFiendin' lemon pepper, I got my thing cocked\nBlack batmobile, it's only new Ferrari\nIt's called Scaglietti, one button like an Atari\nI'm just advisin', my profits risin'\nNiggas buyin' stocks in a nigga like I'm Verizon\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nMy gun dirty, my brick clean\nI'm ridin' dirty, my dick clean\nShe talk dirty, but her mouth clean\nBitch, I'm MC Hammer, I'm about cream\nI got 30 cars, whole lot of dancers\nI take them everywhere, I'm MC Hammer\nStarted sellin' dope, I'm too legit to quit\nWhen it's hammer time, I'm pullin' out the stick\n\nI cop the Porsche, I was so ecstatic\nCredit card scams, that was for the faggots\nMotherfuck' window shoppin', boy I gotta have it\nNow my shit be boomin' all across the atlas\nGucci Pucci money long, now we call him Alex\nHad to move from Davie, 'cause that shit went local\nPick up the mansion and I sat that bitch back down in Boca\nMy baddest bitches Latin, but they call me loco\n'Til I fuck them in the ass out in Acapulco\nI'm thinkin' money, every moment thinkin' money\nI bust a nut then I'm back to thinkin' money\nMy wrist froze, my mind blown\nHer mouth slow, my eyes closed\nYou gotta judge a man by his principles\nTeflon Don, I am invincible\nMy gun dirty, my brick clean\nI'm ridin' dirty, my dick clean\nShe talk dirty, but her mouth clean\nBitch, I'm MC Hammer, I'm about cream\nI got 30 cars, whole lot of dancers\nI take them everywhere, I'm MC Hammer\nStarted sellin' dope, I'm too legit to quit\nWhen it's hammer time, I'm pullin' out the stick\n\nDiamonds movin' on my chest, wanna Hammer dance\nSeventy grand make my jeans sag like some Hammer pants\nAmbulance, ambulance, 911, 911\nIt\u2019s Gucci Mane, yeah that\u2019s my name, I\u2019m goin' dumb, goin' dumb\nBlowin' up, blowin' up, blowin' up, blowin' up\nI\u2019m like MC Hammer, I put that on my grandma\nI ride through East Atlanta, in my new Ferrari\nIt\u2019s a 458, if you don\u2019t have one, sorry\nI\u2019ll let you borrow mine, I think I\u2019m MC Hammer\nI never borrowed jewelry, I\u2019m tippin' naked dancers\nIt\u2019s an occasion, a celebration, at Central Station\nWith Haitian hoes and Jamaicans, I\u2019m tryna make it\nOld school, wanna race it? We can test it\nI\u2019m flexin', I\u2019ll leave a sucker eatin' dust for breakfast\nSo expect the unexpected, I\u2019m well connected\nI\u2019m MC Hammer 150 on the guest list\nGucci!\nMy gun dirty, my brick clean\nI'm ridin' dirty, my dick clean\nShe talk dirty, but her mouth clean\nBitch, I'm MC Hammer, I'm about cream\nI got 30 cars, whole lot of dancers\nI take them everywhere, I'm MC Hammer\nStarted sellin' dope, I'm too legit to quit\nWhen it's hammer time, I'm pullin' out the stick"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsRich Is Gangsta Lyrics\n\nY'all niggas know what this is\nIf you don't know\nI'm finna break it down\n\nI just upped my stock, fuck them cops\nIf you love hip-hop bust them shots\nYour man is priceless, if your man's loyal\nBetter give that man a raise or end up paying for it\nIf you cut it, call it Jam Master Jay\nNo Adidas but I rock a brick a day\nTalk about the jewels outta nigga reach\nNigga please, so I came back with a bigger piece\nYou still smokin' weed on your car chase\nI'm pullin' off the car lot screaming: \"God\u2019s great!\"\nBefore the crib you gotta clear the guard's gate\nElevators like Frank's on Scarface\nNew Presidential had that pav\u00e9\nLike a G, I gave the Cartier to Wale\nThen I gave Meek Mill a Range Rover\nTold Warner Brothers that the game's over\n\nFor me to move forward from here on I need 50\nI ain't talking 50 Cent neither nigga, haha\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI came back a rich nigga\nYoung mogul, Bo Jackson, I'm a switch hitter\nThey want me face down on the pavement\nGang members claimin' I need to make a payment\nIt's hard for a young black executive\nCan't you see we're all fucking relatives\nRelatively easy we can go to war\nFuck it, we can go to war\nChasing me a hundred million, that's inshallah\nFresh up out the Feds system, welcome home Jabar\nI watch him pray five times a day, nigga\nSame one that used to moved the yay' nigga\nAK's in his heyday, nigga\nBenz coupe, wood frames, low fade, nigga\nGot the cubans, got the boats, got the zoes, nigga\nCocaine worth much more than gold, nigga\nSo what's your goals, nigga?\nAll my shit went gold, nigga\n\nI remember smokin' mid grade\n'Til I went and got my shit straight\nI'm spittin' like this bitch a mixtape\n'Til they seen a Ghost with a temp plate\nSittin' in the trap blowing thick smoke\nTrafficking my dope, with a thick ho\nFeds tore apart the squad, nigga\nThat's why I had to play the part, nigga\nThat wasn't me, it was a job, nigga\nIt gets deeper, that was just a start, nigga\nScreamin' in my sleep, I know Lord hear me\nDeath to you fuckboys, on my 4th Bentley\nGangsta, nigga\nRich is gangsta, nigga\nThis is gangsta, nigga\nYeah, rich is gangsta, nigga\nYou know where we came from\nLook where we at"}
{"text":"25 ContributorsMine Games Lyrics\nThis not a mind game\nBut we can play them, too\nStill running the streets, cause I wanted to eat\nCause I wanted to eat, cause I wanted to eat\nBut she who I wanted to see\nWho I wanted to see, who I wanted with me\n\nMe against the world, me and my baby girl\nMe and my baby girl, me and my baby girl\nDouble R, me and you, taking over the world\nTaking over the world, taking over the world\n\nGoing hard was a given; the chance I wasn't given\nTil I pulled right beside her, she was sitting in the Civic\nMan, you was just who I was looking for\nTop down, you could never overlook a boy\nBig buckets, magnum bottles of that rose\nOn my R. Kelly, girl I'm bout that foreplay\nSlow it down, speed it up, I'm just being me\nPanamera here's the keys, thats just the G in me\nGot a crib on the water, need a bathing suit\nBond that we share so unbreakable\nHere's a toast to the baddest chick in the room\nThis is not a mind game, but we could play them, too\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nYou don't have to play mind games\nJust tell me what's yours is mine\nEven when you're far away\nYou come back to me every time\nIt's just me and my babe at the end of the day\nWe ain't gotta play no mind games\nMine games\n\nAll-black double R, me and my baby girl\nMe and my baby girl, me and my baby girl\nYou know I'm on the grind so I miss you at times\nAll on my mind as I'm scribbling lines\nI put the weed out, cause it play with my head\nTurning money down, we just laying in bed\nShe blowing money wild, bundles of bread\nTimes are priceless, it can go to your head\nI think my mind blown, I barely feel my feet\nI'mma hold my head high even in defeat\nIt's not a mind game so don't even think\nEven if it was, it'd be over 'fore you blinked\n\nYou don't have to play mind games\nJust tell me what's yours is mine\nEven when you're far away\nYou come back to me every time\nIt's just me and my babe at the end of the day\nWe ain't gotta play no mind games\nMine games\nThe sky is the limit\nLet's take over the world and everything in it\nMe and my baby gonna ride to the finish, down from beginning\nOoh what a feeling, ooh what a feeling\n\nMe against the world, me and my baby girl\nMe and my baby girl, me and my baby girl\nDouble R, me and you, taking over the world\nTaking over the world, taking over the world\n\nYou don't have to play mind games\nJust tell me what's yours is mine\nEven when you're far away\nYou come back to me every time\nIt's just me and my babe at the end of the day\nWe ain't gotta play no mind games\nMine games\n\nYou don't have to play mine games\nJust tell me what's yours is mine\n\nMe against the world, me and my baby girl\nMe and my baby girl, me and my baby girl\nDouble R, me and you, taking over the world\nTaking over the world, taking over the world"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsI Wonder Why Lyrics\nThe day you decide to get you some money\nNigga fuck your friends\nAin't no friends we ain't even on that\nAll these niggas taking Instagrams, selfies\nPoint me to the money\nPoint me to the money\nBusiness, big business\nMaybach business\nIf you ain't with it I don't fuck with you\n\nYou ain't gotta hold my hand, and point me to the money\nKeep it real with me nigga and you won't be disappointed\nMy brother caught a L and I still write him every month\nHe told me sell his guns and I still got 'em in the trunk\nI wonder why, I wonder why\nI wonder why, sometimes I wonder why\nI wanna shine just like the summertime\nThey say them folk gave him a heap of time\n\nNappy-headed nigga, pocket full of crack rock\nNineteen, living like a fucking rap star\nWatching from my point you thought it was a fucking film\nOne day he buy the car, next day the fucking rims\nCurly-headed bitches, tall and they slim\nThey know him as the myth but see I know it's him\nNever testify, I seen it in his eye\nAttempted murder on his life in that 360i\nWith my two eyes\nTwo different pistols\nOne with registered and one to get your issue\nI wonder why, sometimes I wonder why\nAll this fame and fortune leave you traumatized\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nYou ain't gotta hold my hand, and point me to the money\nKeep it real with me nigga and you won't be disappointed\nMy brother caught a L and I still write him every month\nHe told me sell his guns and I still got 'em in the trunk\nI wonder why, I wonder why\nI wonder why, sometimes I wonder why\nI wanna shine just like the summertime\nThey say them folk gave him a heap of time\n\nNow I'm being followed by some creepy-ass cracker\nNow I'm being followed by some creepy-ass cracker\nStand your ground, stand your ground\nStand your ground, you gotta stand your ground\n\nGot on my hoodie and my motherfucking Desert Eagle\nYou wanna do me, then you go and tell the people\nKnock me down, temp drops as the sun rise\nI could see a hustler in my son's eyes\nI never knew that money bring so many enemies\nDreams come true, they dream of killing me\nBut it's fuck 'em and I feed 'em fish\nThem killers coming, 'X' you off the list\nNow I'm being followed by some creepy-ass cracker\nNow I'm being followed by some creepy-ass cracker\nStand your ground, stand your ground\nStand your ground, you gotta stand your ground\n\nYou ain't gotta hold my hand, and point me to the money\nKeep it real with me nigga and you won't be disappointed\nMy brother caught a L and I still write him every month\nHe told me sell his guns and I still got 'em in the trunk\nI wonder why, I wonder why\nI wonder why, sometimes I wonder why\nI wanna shine just like the summertime\nThey say them folk gave him a heap of time\n(Okay, they're having trouble hearing you, so take your time)\nCreepy-ass cracka\nAnd then he said \n(And he's still following him?)\nYes..."}
{"text":"23 ContributorsDope Bitch (Skit) LyricsI love a Daytona rose gold Rolex, the black face, a good Fendi fur, some Tom Ford thigh high's and a crocodile Birkin. I'm set. I'm not basic right here\nNot basic? (Not basic)\nNah, no basic bitches allowed\nWhy? What they do?\nBasic bitches make me nervous. Yes. They make me nervous. You wanna impress? Here, I'm gon' show you. If you're a boss, this stack right here falls out of your pocket, you don't even got time to pick it up. (You keep walking) You don't got time. You keep going. It's probably not worth your time. (Your minutes cost more than the stack.) Keep it moving. (Alrght.) Keep it fresh. (Keep it fresh. Keep it money, baby. All day.) It's our money dance. I have my basic bitches pick up my money for me. I pay my basic bitches to pick up my money for me\nAlright, that's cool\nI tell 'em keep it. Buy something nice. I heard Raven's having a sale. Yes. You know the real boss bitches though? Call up George Condo. Make me a fucking one of a kind\nOne of one's?\nOne of one's\nHow much was it?\nPriceless, baby\nPriceless. So what's a typical shopping day for ya'll? How much? Like on a tab?\nTypical shopping -- it's never typical with me\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also likeThat day you -- that day you go-\nIt depends on what kind of mood I'm in that day\nYou're in the mood to shop\nI'm in the mood to shop?\nRight\nCan't put a price on it\nShe doesn't wanna make you nervous\nI don't wanna make you nervous, baby. I don't wanna make you nervous\nI don't think you can. I ain't been nervous in a minute, in a while\nYou sure? You're not nervous right now?\nDo I look nervous? I'm relaxed\nYeah?\nI'm so relaxed. I'm probably too relaxed\nYou're relaxed\nYeah\nLet's make him a little nervous\nHow are we gonna make you nervous?\nGive him my number\nI don't think you can\nYou sure? My shoes don't make you nervous?\nNot at all\nAre you sure? My wrists?\nThat's a nice wrist\nHow about my earrings? They make you nervous?\nNah\nNah? My weave make you nervous?\nYou wanna know what basic bitches do? They wash their hair with shampoo. You know what we wash our hair with?\nI wash my hair with fucking champagne, baby. (All day) Champagne. (All day)\nI hope it's Belaire Ros\u00e9\nI bathe in Belaire Ros\u00e9. I have people wash me in Belaire Ros\u00e9. People fucking throw rose petals at me when I walk by. They throw Belaire Ros\u00e9\nWhy they do that?\nI'm a fucking boss. Ugh. Was that good? How was that? Ugh. I can't take life. Was that great?\nBut there really is a lot of money on the floor. What is that?"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsColor Money Lyrics\nAye, call lil homie to the stage\nThe one got that color money\nTrappin' for the color money\nMake it happen for the color money\n305, nigga\nYou know what it is\n\nIf you wanna get a block, then you should see the man\nDiamonds all through the watch and you should see the band\nBottles in the club got me screaming, \"Color money\"\nGot her selling pussy for the love of the money\nIndictments coming and I really think they coming for me\nIn the box Chevy, pussy nigga gunning for me\nCatch a flight to Paris, time to get some other money\nYou still alive 'cause you niggas still running from me\nGet it down even if a nigga momma know me\nPut it down quarter key in every category\nIf you real, all we kill for is color money\nFuck where you from, 'cause all we deal with is color money\nI got a duffle bag that I wanna shop with\nOr get another double R to cut the top with\nOr hit the booty club and go and get some pussy wit\nI might buy a bitch a Benz if I'm pussy whipped\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nColor money\nColor money\n\nBlackjack, black bottles with the black cards\nOnly nigga that you know with two NASCARs\nSell a lot of record but I make a brick jump\nMake her sign a prenup just to get my dick sucked\nColor money got your bitch out on a world tour\nMy lil homie made a million on his girl tour\nWe back to back and down to whack a nigga unborn\nMiami niggas got 'em changing all the gun laws\nSo run Forrest, got some shooters and they dying too\nI got more money than that pussy that you\u2019re signed to\nSurvive, who call this a color money conversation\nA hundred stacks will cover everything I\u2019m contemplating\nFull confrontation, home invasion for the quarter key\nThem cheap ass condos ain't the safest place you want to be\nCall him a C.O. but you better not go call police\nSo when I see you, I\u2019mma give you what you wanna see\nYou wanna see?\n\nColor money\nColor money\nUh, pussy nigga\nRob a nigga close to me, you better bring it back\nUntil the day we even steven, tell you bring it back\nRed rubies on they can't believe a nigga rap\nColor money still feed niggas in the trap\nThey got the Rolie with the red face\nThe red ring nigga looking like a fed case\nFuck all these rappers, real talk, 'cause I ain't fucking with 'em\nDouble M, we balling way harder than Puff and them\nIt ain't no love loss, I only see one boss\nYou looking at him when they got the guns going off\nAnd all the bitches on the staff and they get a check\nSo bust it open, never test a nigga intellect\n\nColor money\nColor money\nColor money\nColor money\nColor money"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsYella Diamonds Lyrics\nUgh! D-Boys be the livest\nD-Boys be the livest, D-Boys be the livest\nAll I want for Christmas is my Pyrex\nAll I want for Christmas is my Pyrex\n\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nNineteen for the whole thang\nWalk up out the trap nigga it's bling bling\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nNineteen for the whole thang\nWalk up out the trap nigga it's bling bling\n\nI'm back to trappin' like I'm 'posed to, nigga\nThem crackers wanna see me on a wanted poster, nigga\nChasin' my money like I'm Oprah, nigga\nFrom Dade County now mansions in Boca, nigga\nNow bring that drama that you spoke of, nigga\nAin't no water drippin' out this super soaker, nigga\nGo cash a check just like a dolphin, nigga\nChopper City all up out your office, nigga\nStudy your plays in my office, nigga\nA pound of haze'll make a gangsta off a nigga\nYou wanna live? Make an offer nigga\nClub LIV is your coffin nigga\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nNineteen for the whole thang\nWalk up out the trap nigga it's bling bling\n\nI'm whippin' cake up like I'm Jacob, nigga\nHundred eighty for the bracelet and they hate it, nigga\nI had to have 'em custom make it, nigga\nYou have to gun me down before you take it, nigga\nYou know we roll up like Jamaican niggas\nNo marijuana, talkin' bout killin' these hatin' niggas\nThe time is now fuck all the waitin', nigga\nI can't hold back all these Haitian niggas\nYou know they talkin' home invasion, nigga\nSeein' your daughter scream can be very persuasive, nigga\nFirst question, \"Where the safe at, nigga?\"\nAll in your woman face fuck up her makeup nigga\n\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nNineteen for the whole thang\nWalk up out the trap nigga it's bling bling\nI'm watching me a kilo break up, nigga\nSnort a line of this I bet you wake up, nigga\nDead presidents all on my body, nigga\nFor dinero, ocho cinco, catch me a body nigga\nTeflon Don, John Gotti nigga\nGod forgives and I don't, my chopper hit the lotto nigga\nMy chopper hit the lotto nigga\nKeepin' it real my ch-ch- chopped a lot of niggas\nI paid my dues, dudes get ya done\nI paid my fool, here come that murder one\nI think it's time you niggas recognize\nWorth fifty million so fuck the other side\nMy nigga you know your chopper's cold\nOn the other hand my ch-chopper's old\nAll the little head busters swingin' now\nAnd I buy 'em all cars off of my yella diamonds\n\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nMy dope be shinin' like it's yella diamonds\nNineteen for the whole thang\nWalk up out the trap nigga it's bling bling"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsHigh Definition Lyrics\nBill: Look at this stuff, this is history here...you're history\nMike: This is garbage...I can say I bled for garbage\nBill: So this is meaningless...\nMike: No, at one time it meant a lot. When you're just a young kid this is everything to you, then you realize your priorities change. And you just want your children to be happy and do nice things and that makes you happy. This is nothing. This is just nothing man...\n\nUgh, God Forgives and I Don't\nThat's one of my many emotions, that's one of my many flaws\nI am flawed, it may not seem that way but I am\nSo don't play with me\n\nI can talk about the bodies, I could tell you 'bout the killing\nDuct taping niggas in the name of drug dealin'\nBig body Benzes while the bitch niggas starve\nTurtleneck Mercedes blowin' smoke up out the top\nTime to talk about the money, I can tell you bout a profit\nOceanfront spot moving niggas out the projects\nDiamonds on my neck call it the ghetto's guillotine\nFuckin' with them jewelers nigga lit up like a screen, HD\nLook at me ballin' I'm talkin' high definition\nFuckin' up six digits, boy that's just my definition\nNiggas gotta get murked but I'm just minding my business\nBought three Range Rovers dolo, so fuck Expedition\nOn the road to the riches until I'm paid in full\nAnd the Lord is my witness, I got a AK to pull\nThese niggas full of shit, my niggas moving bricks\nI could front you fifty, but you gotta move 'em quick, my moolah thick\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nWent and got me a choppa to put it right in ya face\nBetter blow out your brains before you give me a case\nGot the forty by my dick I keep on pissin' on the hammer\nWhen they talkin' slick I double back with that banana\nHigh definition I'm stacking money to the ceiling\nFuck my ho feelings, look here, it's time to make a killin'\nGot a hundred silent niggas and they fiending for a million\nHigh definition bitches, my life a motion picture\n\nI could talk about the bitches, I could tell you 'bout the bricks\nPull up in the Bentley I could pop up in the six\nHelicopter rides I can sit it on the club\nSound of the propeller had my young bitch busting nuts\nNiggas wanna crack jokes just to get close to me\nHope you know that I'm strapped like I supposed to be\nPut a number on your helmet like it's Notre Dame\n5 grand'll get you whacked, won't even know your name\nRoad to the riches until I'm paid in full\nAnd the Lord is my witness we making major moves\nGod forgives and I don't, I got it tatted in my skin\nI'm going straight to hell that's if ballin' is a sin\nCrucifix on my neck I pray it never melt\nPacquiao purse, boy I took another belt\nTake a seat, I'm undefeated in this art of war\nRest in peace to the pussies, it's time to scar some more\nWent and got me a choppa to put it right in ya face\nBetter blow out your brains before you give me a case\nGot the forty by my dick I keep on pissin' on the hammer\nWhen they talkin' slick I double back with that banana\nHigh definition I'm stacking money to the ceiling\nFuck my ho feelings, look here, it's time to make a killin'\nGot a hundred silent niggas and they fiending for a million\nHigh definition bitches, my life a motion picture"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsI Think She Like Me Lyrics\nThis the flyest shit ever\nThis that Rich Forever part two\nUh, uh\n\nLayin' in my bed, I'm under these gold chandeliers\nCan't say too many names in here these kinda years\nNice sweaters and these icy diamonds on my wrist\nIce Cube lookin' nigga, you know life a bitch\nI once got no allowance, now I got the crown\nI said I was The Boss, nobody made a sound\nReally had to see them things, this level story tellin'\nWho else could flip a chorus into forty million?\nOut in Cannes with Leonardo DiCaprio\nWhile out on bond, pray I go to trial rapido\nEight felonies, tellin' me wanna give me life\nEvery nut I bust, really I gotta do it twice\nRicky Ronaldo, really when I'm in Portugal\nI pull a yacht out, this weekend, I'm fuckin' so-and-so\nCameras flash, paparazzi layin' in the grass\nTom Brady my new neighbor, you can tell 'em that\n\n(Ooh) Uh, I think she like me\nOh, I think she like me\nI know her nigga don't like me\nWith your bitch right now, yeah, I might be (Ooh)\nSippin' this right now, yeah, we might be (Ooh, ooh)\nMight hit her from the back, let her ride me (Ooh, ooh)\nGirl, you'll never meet another nigga like me (Ooh, ooh)\nGirl, you'll never meet another man like me\nSee Rick Ross LiveGet tickets as low as $94You might also like\nI'm sexin' women out on Fisher Isle\nI gas her up and let her lick me down\nI may name my daughter Hermes\nGet Margiela to decorate the new birds nest\nTwenty million up at Merrill Lynch\nI met his chick, he haven't seen her since\nThrough the city, I'm still floatin' like a magic carpet\nShe stop me for a selfie, I just want the knowledge\nExpressin' what you think'll send your kids to college\nOr be a Geechi nigga just to keep the Bentley polished\nDo it for the dear departed, fuck a Ben Carson\nEmpowering the youth made a nigga a target\nOnly one that's smokin' up in Goldman Sachs\nBut I'm the only one that's rollin' like a quarterback\nAnd I never put it in my government\n'Cause I never put on for the government\n\n(Ooh) Uh, I think she like me\nOh, I think she like me\nI know her nigga don't like me\nWith your bitch right now, yeah, I might be (Ooh)\nSippin' this right now, yeah, we might be (Ooh, ooh)\nMight hit her from the back, let her ride me (Ooh, ooh)\nGirl, you'll never meet another nigga like me (Ooh, ooh)\nGirl, you'll never meet another man like me\nYou caught the case, you gotta post the bond\nI'm Rayful Edmonds mixed with young Wale Folarin (M-M-M)\nStarin' in my safe, I'm rather safe than sorry\nDiddy, Jigga only two niggas comin' for me (M-M-Maybach Music)\nI park the Caddy in my livin' room\nPussy niggas lookin' for me, I'ma give it to 'em\nSantorini, Greece, sex in the swimmin' pool\nIf her pussy dry, call her Beetlejuice\nI'm baby-makin' in them Maldives\nPut up all the yachts, pulled out the jetskis\nKhaled hit me on the FaceTime (It's Billi!)\nI'm the flyest nigga on his bassline\nShe see the sneakers and she see the stones\nFat boy run the city, seated in the throne\nI'm cashin' in like the Kardashians\nMy paralyzed homie snuck the ratchet in\n\n(Ooh) Uh, I think she like me\nOh, I think she like me\nI know her nigga don't like me\nWith your bitch right now, yeah, I might be (Ooh)\nSippin' this right now, yeah, we might be (Ooh, ooh)\nMight hit her from the back, let her ride me (Ooh, ooh)\nGirl, you'll never meet another nigga like me (Ooh, ooh)\nGirl, you'll never meet another man like me\nMaybach Music"}
{"text":"Ricky Racks, I see you!\nThugger!\nYSL for life, bitch\nYeah fuck you, your momma and everything else\nYung Shad, you killed this track\nFree the GOAT!\n\nThat's my best friend, that's my best friend, flexin'\nBig ol' booty bitch missus from Texas, what's next is\nI'm gon' skeet off, lil' nigga come catch me, catch me\nAnd that's my bestie, my bestie, my best friend, go best friend\nNigga livin' TTG and everything is still on fleek\nBad bitch rollin' wit' me, she gon' smile 'cause she on fleek\nHundred thousand dollars inside my pants, my shit on fleek\nHey-yeah! Yeah\n\nTake them boys to school, swagonometry\nBitch I'm bleedin' bad, like a bumble bee\nHold up! Hold it, hold it, nigga proceed\nI'ma eat that booty just like groceries\nEat on that coochie, lay that bitch down like \"let's do it\"\nNo Tiger, bitch, eat that wood, eat that wood\nSupplier, bitch, I got pistols, no wood\nI want them tacos that are Meagan Good\nHelicopter choppin' with the buzz\nStuff them racks inside them if they nudge\nBang that other side, nigga curb\nAnd my reefer louder than a speaker\nYeah my niece is hangin' with The Beatles\nIf you ever find her, better keep her\n37 cameras for the sneakers\nGoin' out like Ox or Beanie Sigel\nSend a cop, I can't wait to mistreat 'em\nForcin' your ho, I can't wait to mislead 'em\nAnd beat 'em, they ain't my people\nYou might also like\nThat's my best friend, that's my best friend, flexin'\nBig ol' booty bitch missus from Texas, what's next is\nI'm gon' skeet off, lil' nigga come catch me, catch me\nAnd that's my bestie, my bestie, my best friend, go best friend\nNigga livin' TTG and everything is still on fleek\nBad bitch rollin' wit' me, she gon' smile 'cause she on fleek\nHundred thousand dollars inside my pants, my shit on fleek\nHey-yeah! Yeah!\n\nLet me tell you how I spent a couple hundreds today\nI done cut back on that lean, I'm on that Hen' and D'uss\u00e9\nDon't do no talkin', when you see him, you better shoot in his face\nI got a hundred bitches that can't wait to replace\nMichael Jackson, nigga, Thugger Jackson moon walkin'\nThe S.L.I.M.E. army tool shoppin'\nMe a horny goat, I'm boolin' at the bull stop\nNo I can't get arrested 'cause I'm talkin' 'bout my necklace\nI'ma put that bitch in the buck, I'm a dog, let's get stuck\nMy lil' sister Dora, eat them Lucky Charms and give me luck\nWaddup cuz? Here yo cup, call my Bloods, bring my bup\nYour crew suck, don't got bucks, these ain't drugs, nigga\n\nThat's my best friend, that's my best friend, flexin'\nBig ol' booty bitch missus from Texas, what's next is\nI'm gon' skeet off, lil' nigga come catch me, catch me\nAnd that's my bestie, my bestie, my best friend, go best friend\nNigga livin' TTG and everything is still on fleek\nBad bitch rollin' wit' me, she gon' smile 'cause she on fleek\nHundred thousand dollars inside my pants, my shit on fleek\nHey-yeah!"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nOh, oh, woah\nWoah, woah\nOh\n(You good, T-Minus?)\nOh\n\nMe-meet me at The London\nIf you find time, we can run one\nTalk about some things we can't undo\nYou just send the pin, I can find you\n6'1\", on the money, 9'2\"\nYou just say the word and I'll run through\nTwo texts, no reply, that's when I knew\nI knew, I knew, yeah, I knew\n\nYeah, circumnavigate the globe as the cash grows (Grow)\nGet a nigga whacked like you get the grass mowed (Mowed)\nI'm talkin' slick when I'm with the Big Slime, nigga (Slime)\nCould hit your bitch, you could never hit mine, nigga (Mine)\nIn my DM, they electric slide, nigga (Huh, slide)\nNo catfishin', this is not a fish fry, nigga\nNever switch sides on my dog\nCatch a contact, hitch a ride, go to Mars\nEverybody sing\nHow could you come up out your face\nAnd say I ain't the hardest nigga you done ever heard?\nI left a flock of rappers dead and buried\nA verse from me is like eleven birds\nJust did the math, that's like two thousand dollars every word\nI'm on the verge, I'll beat the charge\nI killed some niggas and I walked away from it\nThen I observe, just how you curve\nThen told the nigga that they gotta wait for it\n\"I know\u2014I know you in high demand\"\nI'm ballin' on a pussy nigga like Juwanna Mann\nI'm drownin' all inside the pussy like I never swam\nAyy, fuck your IG, I put somethin' on your sonogram\nI'm the man, ayy, ayy\nYou might also like\nMe-meet me at The London\nIf you find time, we can run one\nTalk about some things we can't undo\nYou just send the pin, I can find you\n6'1\", on the money, 9'2\"\nYou just say the word and I'll run through\nTwo texts, no reply, that's when I knew\nI knew, I knew, yeah, I knew\n\nPimp talk, church talk, I can make a brick walk (Woo)\nUp north, down south, Bankhead to Rachel Walk (Ayy)\nHit it with a little water, stretch it like a vocal cord\nSTD, I run my ward, fuck a fed and his daughter (Let's go)\nI'ma run the compound (Yeah)\nI supply the cigarettes and bread (Woo)\nI got a main and she gon' ride (Uh-huh)\nShe took a quarter and she fled (Uh)\nI'm in the Lamb', so she gon' ride (Yeah)\nI see the pain in shawty's light brown eyes (Ooh)\nI'm at The London with some big thots\nNo fries, she eat steaks with the fish sides\nDidn't your mama tell you when something on fire, stop, drop and roll? (Aw yeah)\nI've been on the road like a pair of spinners at Stop-N-Go's (Yeah)\nI could charge 'em like a Dodge Hemi Demon\nGot your broad in the garage eatin' semen\nEvery time a nigga go back to the ward\nNiggas act like they want start\nAnd we leave them on the cement (Grra, grra)\nMe-meet me at The London\nIf you find time, we can run one\nTalk about some things we can't undo\nYou just send the pin, I can find you\n6'1\", on the money, 9'2\"\nYou just say the word and I'll run through\nTwo texts, no reply, that's when I knew\nI knew, I knew, yeah, I knew\n\nI, crash down, we get money (Hey)\nFor the full town (Woah, when you won't play, I)\nI decided, for the full side (Hoes will say)\nAnd they know, I might (And fly, I...)\nGet down, might (Don't play)\nSee the whole town every time, I... (Oh, every day)\nYeah, they know what's up (Folks will say)"}
{"text":"I can see that bullshit from a mile away (See it)\nYou can stack my money 'bout a mile away (Stack it)\nI got three white bitches like it's powder day (White)\nMink coat with the rolls like a Shar Pei\nAnd all of my bitches sexy, call them Barbies (Sexy)\nShe lookin' back like I'm flexin', baby, no way (Uh-uh)\nAnd lately, I been on that D'usse, yee\n(We got London on the track)\n\nGot me a check, I got a check\nYeah, I done got me a check, I got a check (Sheesh, sheesh)\nYeah, I done got me a check, I got a check (Sheesh)\nYeah, I done got me a check, oh, got a check (Yeah, yeah-yeah!)\nMoney on my mind, I got money on my brain\nMoney in my pants, I got money I call change\n20, 50, 100, 500 millions made\nBig hunna Thugga, screamin' free that Gucci Mane\n\nIf I need some racks, I'ma flip me some packs\nI talk like I want and she don't say nothin' back\nIf cops pull up, I put that crack in my crack\nOr I put that brack in my brack\nCall little shawty, made her fuck on my brodie\nIf you don't owe me, bitch, still act like you owe me\nI promise I won't ever quit, bitch, I'm Kobe\nAnd I whip that white, you can snow me\nStoner Young Thugger\nI whip it, that bitch, yeah, she know me, Young Thugger\nYeah, she shinin' like butter\nThe bitch from Chicago, I call her young Cutler\nLeave it to Beaver\nI pull up in Bentleys with London, they all want to meet him\nYeah, they all wanna greet him\nThey pull down they pants and they all wanna eat him, uh\nNo, they won't tease on that dick, they won't read on that dick\nThey won't leash on that dick, don't Felicia that dick\nMamacita that dick, they gon' snitch on that dick\nAnd she screamin' loud, she can't secret that dick\nMama a beast on that dick\nIf she bad, I'ma gon' an' Four Season that bitch\nEat that, lil' bitch, I'ma feast that lil' bitch, mm\nYou might also like\nI got me a check, I got a check\nYeah, I done got me a check, I got a check (Sheesh, sheesh)\nYeah, I done got me a check, I got a check (Sheesh)\nYeah, I done got me a check, oh, got a check (Yeah, yeah-yeah!)\nMoney on my mind, I got money on my brain\nYeah, I'm like, baby, baby, baby, I need racks\nMoney in my pants, I got money I call change\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby, I need racks\n20, 50, 100, 500 millions made\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby, I want racks\nBig hunna Thugga, screamin' free that Gucci Mane\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby, I need racks, hey!\n\nBitch, I'm a Migo, I play with kilo\nWhen I put ice on, I am Sub-Zero\nAll of my niggas, they hard, call 'em beetles\nNiggas was fake so I kept me a Ruger in Regals\nDroppin' the top on the Bentley\nI'm with the Birdman, yeah, the eagle\nGeeked out my mind, man, I'm tripping out\nI don't know none of these people\nMake my little shawty go get me a four and bring back me a liter\nYes, I got threats, I'm not worried 'bout that\nThey know they can get whacked and I swear I done\nGot me a check, I got a check\nYeah, I done got me a check, I got a check (Sheesh, sheesh)\nYeah, I done got me a check, I got a check (Sheesh)\nYeah, I done got me a check, oh, got a check (Yeah, yeah-yeah!)\nYeah, I'm like, baby, baby, baby, I need racks\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby, I need racks\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby, I want racks\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby, I need racks, hey!\n\nWe got London on da Track!"}
{"text":"We got London on da Track\n\nFirst you get that money, then you get that power\nIf he tune his nose up, boy, he on that powder\nNow you walk around with 50 in your trousers\nDiamonds boolin' on my chest, no fuckin' blouser\nBitch, I make it rain-shower, ya dig that?\nThey won't know a thing about you if you zip that\nHit 'em with that blocka-blocka, nigga get back\nFeed that, beat that, never crack, dig that (Sheesh, sheesh)\n\nBefore I go without a sack, I swag pack (Sheesh, sheesh)\nI spoiled my bitch and now she actin' like a brat (Yeah, yeah)\nI met Alex, I know Jimmy, he got racks (Skrrt, skrrt)\nYeah, yeah, bitch, I'm bleedin' like a tat (Yeah, yeah)\nRoll it, roll it for me on ya back (Roll it, roll it)\nJust for show my diamonds yellow like a taxi (Woo, woo)\nI'm a cat, I'ma chase all them pussy rats (Argh)\nYah (Argh, argh), pussy nigga better not look back\nOr, or else I'm killin' 'em, hey, and that's a fact (Sheesh)\nThere's blood all on my Timberlands\nShe make a nigga say, \"What?\" (What?)\nI swear to God she feelin' 'em\nShe sucked like eight dicks, I call her octagon (Hey)\nYou might also like\nFirst you get that money, then you get that power\nIf he tune his nose up, boy, he on that powder\nNow you walk around with 50 in your trousers\nDiamonds boolin' on my chest, no fuckin' blouser\nBitch, I make it rain-shower, ya dig that?\nThey won't know a thing about you if you zip that\nHit 'em with that blocka-blocka, nigga get back\nFeed that, beat that, never crack, dig that (Sheesh, sheesh)\n\nBitch, I dig it, I eat ice cream with my chickens\nBitch, I'm rich just like a Simmons, not Lil Diggy (Real Simmons)\nIf I got legs, bitch you know I'm gonna get it\nShe got good head, so she welcome to my Bentley\nBig bid-ness in that big Bentley, Bentley (What? What?)\nRidin' 'round with that semi, 'cause I know these niggas envy (Hah)\nIs you mad 'bout Instagram or how I kick my pimpin'? (Pimp)\nYou keep that Ace of Spades, I'm sippin'\nI'm a rocket, rocket, I can't stop it, stop it\nI'm a GTV, boy, bitch, I'm poppin', poppin'\nI need coke, need coke like, \"Where the fuck is papi?\"\nIf you try to run off (What?), you know we popped your noggin\n(Pop-pop)\n\nFirst, you get that money, then you get that power\nIf he tune his nose up, boy, he on that powder\nNow you walk around with 50 in your trousers\nDiamonds boolin' on my chest, no fuckin' blouser\nBitch, I make it rain-shower, ya dig that?\nThey won't know a thing about you if you zip that\nHit 'em with that blocka-blocka, nigga get back\nFeed that, beat that, never crack, dig that (Sheesh, sheesh)"}
{"text":"Yeah\nI'm so through with that\nI'm so through with that\n(We got London on da Track)\n\nHundred bands, hundred bands dropped on the head of any nigga want it, man (Woo)\nPop me a xanny, I'm fast, I'm so fast, I'm so faster than Sonic, man (Woo)\nTrue the man, true the man, true to my nigga True Religion Buddha man (Woo)\nMy money stack tall as Ludacris afro and I swear I'ma shoot with that (Woo)\nI just hit for nine birds, what I'ma do with that?\nPull up on the curb, then you hop out and be through with that (Ooh)\nI'm so fresh like dish detergent, if you not fresh, you so through with that (So fresh)\nIf you are a nerd, everything here, you not cool with that\n\nYes, you not cool\nNo, you not bool (What?)\nI don't give no damn, I'm not calling you boo (Uh-uh)\nMy bitch, she a jewel (Whoa)\nYou can't prove a point, boy, you know you so doomed (You dig?)\nYou know you so doomed (Yeah)\nI swear I'm so lost with no clue, don't know what to do (What?)\nOver loud, over loud (Yeah)\nI over loud on these niggas\nAin't know how to milk these cows\nShe made that dick grow, now it's big like a tower\nYow, front pockets filled up with bands, no Bible\nYou might also like\nHundred bands, hundred bands dropped on the head of any nigga want it, man (Woo)\nPop me a xanny, I'm fast, I'm so fast, I'm so faster than Sonic, man (Woo, woo)\nTrue the man, true the man, true to my nigga True Religion Buddha man (True it, woo)\nMy money stack tall as Ludacris afro and I swear I'ma shoot with that (Sheesh, sheesh)\nI just hit for nine birds, what I'ma do with that? (Sheesh, sheesh)\nPull up on the curb, then you hop out and be through with that (Skrrt)\nI'm so fresh like dish detergent, if you not fresh, you so through with that (Clean)\nIf you are a nerd, everything here, you not cool with that (Hey, dork)\n\nPull up, hop out the block, they tuck in they tail, I go, \"Who the clan?\" (Cacaw, cacaw)\nWe dressed in all-black, I'm always on the road just like a Uber man (I'm textin')\nWe wrappin' and sendin' them packs, soon as they land, we movin' 'em (Wrapped, shipped)\nBlame it on the OGs, they influenced me (I'm ridin' with felons)\nAin't gonna count money, nigga (Uh-uh, nah)\nI ain't just met money, nigga (Ain't just met money, nigga)\nI put lipstick on the 'Rari, she say that's delicious (Skrr-skrr-skrr-skrr)\nWho that is in that Crown Vic? He look suspicious (Oh, him, shh)\nI just jugged a hundred pounds, I made a\u2026\n\nHundred bands, hundred bands dropped on the head of any nigga want it, man (Woo, woo)\nPop me a xanny, I'm fast, I'm so fast, I'm so faster than Sonic, man (Woo, woo)\nTrue the man, true the man, true to my nigga True Religion Buddha man (Sheesh, woo)\nMy money stack tall as Ludacris afro and I swear I'ma shoot with that (Yeah, sheesh, sheesh)\nI just hit for nine birds, what I'ma do with that? (Hey)\nPull up on the curb, then you hop out and be through with that (Skrrt-skrrt)\nI'm so fresh like dish detergent, if you not fresh, you so through with that (Fresh)\nIf you are a nerd, everything here, you not cool with that\nYeah, you not cool with that\nNo, you not cool with that\nNo, you not cool with that\nYeah"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsDanny Glover (Remix) Lyrics\nI got somethin' for you lookin'-ass niggas\nWeek and a half, I'ma be in that ass... pause\nIt's like I'm working on an album and a mixtape at the same motherfucking time!\n\nOkay, cool, okay, bool, I love her\nI'ma save her, yes, like Danny Glover\nI'ma call my partner 'fore I fuck her mother\nI pass them a molly, now they kiss each other\n\nEvery time I fuck I gotta hit me least like two bitches\nFor that dope he whipped, you need a new wrists\nForeign car outside, that bitch got two digits\nMoney stand like eight feet just like two midgets\n\nWho the fuck told you\nThat Young Thugger Thugger don't fuck up the beat?\nI got six cars and I also got rentals and all of 'em tinted\nNo, I'm not Nipsey, not from L.A., but I got keys to the city\nI fuck it, I suck it, I beat it down, then she beat me to the ceilin'\nStoner my lifestyle, I'm livin' too wild\nI came to make you proud, that money keep her around\nIn love with her head, I can't turn it down\nCan't wait for my time to come back around\nShe see that you don't got Lil Haiti's style\nPlus I just seen Snoop on Girls Gone Wild\nI just bought a Bentley and a bitch came with it\nYoung rich nigga hittin' million dollar licks\nBalling in New York like a motherfucking Knick\nYou better have them racks, you ever want to hear me spit\nAnd everywhere I go I got a pass like the staff\nI'm goin' off top like a motherfuckin' layup\n357, six shots like Al\nI left ten bands in a motherfuckin' cab\nYou might also like\nOkay, cool, okay, bool, I love her\nI'ma save her, yes, like Danny Glover\nI'ma call my partner 'fore I fuck her mother\nI pass them a molly, now they kiss each other\n\nEvery time I come out, I ain\u2019t ever with no new bitches\nThese bitches is stealing, I'ma sue bitches\nDripping down his dick, this pussy too vicious (vicious)\nEvery time I fuck him, I say \"Whose is it?\"\nYo! Who the fuck told 'em that, \"They was like Nicki? Oh no, bitches didn't!\"\nI'ma give bitches a minute of shine, then I'll tell 'em good riddance (good riddance)\nTo raise a child, it might take a village\nBut I wouldn't know, cause these bitches my sons\nYes, they was, and they still is\nGave him the kitten, now that nigga smitten\nTold him to hop in my foreign, and then I said, \"No, I'm just kiddin'!\"\nHell of a livin', you bitches on chitlins\nWhen I come out of my mansion, I sprinkle some bread to the pigeons\nB-b-b-b-but, bitches is lyin', they lyin', they lyin', they lie in they bio\nSo I ain't fuckin' with chickens unless I got pico de gallo\nGirls is plottin', what more could they steal?\nTell Justin Timberlake, that I am comin' for Jessica Biel\nBitch, I'm a star-rah, you niggas, I holla tomorrow\nDoors go up, 'cause I am too rich to cop a Gallardo\nNo regular doors, on Aventadors\nPainted it pink, just so I could take pictures, while you rented yours\nH-H-H-Hell of a ticket, h-h-h-h-hell of a price\nI want it, I get it, I wire the money, I never think twice\nI am not gay, but let's be precise\n'Cause if she pretty then watch it, 'cause I'ma be fuckin' ya wife\nEvery time I fuck I gotta hit me least like two bitches\nFor that dope he whipped, you need a new wrists\nForeign car outside, that bitch got two digits\nMoney stand like eight feet just like two midgets\n\nI knew I was gonna run my money up and everybody didn't\nAll these niggas pussy niggas, tellin' on they partner\nHope the pussy nigga get a bigger sentence\nPussy nigga play, I'm coming back with the K\nAnd I'ma shoot that motherfucker 'til he livid\nBitches wanna see a nigga thumb through it fast\nI'ma name myself Young Thugga tenant\nI don't like using profanity but the Young Thugger will cut you\nAll of my cups are muddy, I fuck my bitches' buddies\nI just want nut like Buddy, all of my bitches buddies\nPanamera with the tinted roof, all the niggas' dogs goin', \"Roof\"\nTop notch shawty, nigga ring came with karats\nYoung nigga rich, jewelry colder than the attic\nIf she ain't a virgin then that bitch is only average\nI can't even hear ya, baby, get rid of the static\nI can't learn a bitch, but I learned mathematics\nI just ball her down whenever she call my pattern\nOkay, cool, okay, bool, I love her\nI'ma save her, yes, like Danny Glover\nI'ma call my partner 'fore I fuck her mother\nI pass them a molly, now they kiss each other\n\nEvery time I fuck I gotta hit me least like two bitches\nFor that dope he whipped, you need a new wrists\nForeign car outside, that bitch got two digits\nMoney stand like eight feet just like two midgets"}
{"text":"Wheezy outta here\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot\n\nEverything\u2005litty,\u2005I love when\u2005it's hot\nTurned up the city, I\u2005broke off the notch\nGot some more millis, I keep me a knot\nI created history and made me a lot\nHe tried to diss me and ended on Fox\nWe call 'em chopsticks 'cause they gonna chop\nTook her out of Follies 'cause her pussy pop\nI run it like Nike, we got it on lock\n\nCartier eye\nI'm the bossman in a suit but no tie\nI can't be sober, I gotta stay high\nPour me some syrup in a Canada Dry\nRidin' in the spaceship like Bonnie and Clyde\nDon't worry, baby, I keep me some fire\nShenenehs and Birkins, she cannot decide\nThe latest Mercedes her go-to surprise\nDon't sleep on miss lady, her pussy a prize\nDick in her back while I'm grippin' her sides\nBigger Maybach, this ain't regular size\nWe really fly, we like pelican glide\nBitch, you ain't slick, I can tell the disguise\nUpgraded my wrist, put baguettes in that Sky\nShe sing, I might sign her and change her whole life\nI told her to gargle and work on her highs\nYou might also like\nEverything litty, I love when it's hot\nTurned up the city, I broke off the notch\nGot some more millis, I keep me a knot\nI created history and made me a lot\nHe tried to diss me and ended on Fox\nWe call 'em chopsticks 'cause they gonna chop\nTook her out of Follies 'cause her pussy pop\nI run it like Nike, we got it on lock\n\nCash, money, checks, cash\nAddy, Birkin, brand new extendos\nI just wanna fuck the bitch by myself\nI just passed her to the dawg like my Sprite\n\nI took the Bentley coupe back, then I hopped in a Cayenne (Skrrt)\nI put the bitch in the front of the Bentley, in front of the driver (Skrrt)\nAyy, man, this synthetic weed, you can't smoke in the Rolls Royce, woah, woah (Yeah, yeah)\nI'm still double cupped up, I'm drinkin', I shoot off your tires, huh (Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo)\nI'm in the coupe by myself\nI had to kick a door when I was 5\nKeep the awards on the shelf\nWhole sixteen round in the fire\nI'm sick and tired of these young niggas act like they firin', they tellin' these lies\nActin' like they the ones created this and they get all the drip from my guys\nYeah, Cartier eyes\nCartier coat, Cartiers the watch\nCartier love, Cartier the thot\nCartier specs, buffalo on the side\nPrincess cut diamonds, they Cartier, yeah\nCartier bag for the Cartier thot\nSky Wrangler coupe with two hundred the dash\nCartier jeans, ain't no way I can sag\nAin't no way I'ma ever gon' go out bad\nI can't go out, no way I'ma go out\nI just grip on her ass and I show out\nI sit like a champ and I wait on a hold-out\nI just whip up a new Chanel Patek\nI whip with the wrist and I don't break the door out\nTurn the whole top floor to a whorehouse\nHundred racks in ones, dude brought the flood out (Oh)\nCash, money, checks, cash (Ooh, ah)\nAddy, Birkin, brand new extendos (Ooh)\nI just wanna fuck the bitch by myself  (Ah)\nI just passed her to the dawg like my Sprite (Ooh, it's lit)\n\nHot like the 504 Boyz how I move through the lobby (Hot)\nSince '012, La Flame been hot just to show you the timeframe (La Flame)\nHundred mil' down on my desk, but I'm still up deciding (Straight up)\nMatch the M's in my account to the truck in my driveway (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI'm in that four-door by myself\nKnow it's a hundred more niggas outside\nKnow they gon' ride 'til the death (Ooh)\nHad some good years, ain't no way I get tired\nI gotta do what I feel\nEvery day Super Bowl, fuck it, oh well\nI put a lot on myself\nIn the field, Richard Mille on like Odell (Let's go)\nShe slid her hand down my pants just to grab the torpedo (Doo-doo-doo)\nI had to go back and link with my slimes like I'm thirteen and zero (It's lit)\nI told her, \"Baby, this not the remix, this a part of the sequel\" (Part of the seq')\nNo, we not livin' the same, we not makin' the same, we not equal (No), yeah, yeah, yeah\nLook, mom, I can fly\nHad some troubles, put that shit in the sky\nBrought the angels, know the devil would try\nIt's so hot, you thought Paris Hilton done said it (Yeah, yeah)\nWhen we come out, we can't help but leave damage (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAfterparty, Astroworld out the planet (Yeah, yeah)\nLaid the map out, but they didn't understand it\nWhen I'm home, know that I fuck on a Grammy, yeah\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot, damn\nHot, hot, hot, hot"}
{"text":"Wheezy outta here\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot\n\nEverything litty, I love when it's hot\nTurned up the city, I broke off the notch\nGot some more millis, I keep me a knot\nI created history and made me a lot\nHe tried to diss me and ended on Fox\nWe call them chopsticks 'cause they gonna chop\nTook her out of Follies 'cause her pussy pop\nI run it like Nike, we got it on lock\n\nCartier eye\nI'm the bossman in a suit but no tie\nI can't be sober, I gotta stay high\nPour me some syrup in a Canada Dry\nRidin' in the spaceship like Bonnie and Clyde\nDon't worry, baby, I keep me some fire\nShenenehs and Birkins, she cannot decide\nThe latest Mercedes her go-to surprise\nDon't sleep on miss lady, her pussy a prize\nDick in her back while I'm grippin' her sides\nBigger Maybach, this ain't regular size\nWe really fly, we like pelican glide\nBitch, you ain't slick, I can tell the disguise\nUpgraded my wrist, put baguettes in that Sky\nShe sing, I might sign her and change her whole life\nI told her to gargle and work on her highs\nYou might also like\nEverything litty, I love when it's hot\nTurned up the city, I broke off the notch\nGot some more millis, I keep me a knot\nI created history and made me a lot\nHe tried to diss me and ended on Fox\nWe call them chopsticks 'cause they gonna chop\nTook her out of Follies 'cause her pussy pop\nI run it like Nike, we got it on lock\n\nCash, money, checks, cash\nAddy, Birkin, brand new extendos\nI just wanna fuck the bitch by myself\nI just passed her to the dawg like my Sprite\n\nI took the Bentley coupe back, then I hopped in a Cayenne (Skrrt)\nI put the bitch in the front of the Bentley, in front of the driver (Skrrt)\nAyy, man, this synthetic weed, you can't smoke in the Rolls Royce, woah, woah (Yeah, yeah)\nI'm still double cupped up, I'm drinkin', I shoot off your tires, huh (Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo)\nI'm in the coupe by myself\nI had to kick a door when I was 5\nKeep the awards on the shelf\nWhole sixteen round in the fire\nI'm sick and tired of these young niggas act like they firin', they tellin' these lies\nActin' like they the ones created this and they get all the drip from my guys\nYeah, Cartier eyes\nCartier coat, Cartiers the watch\nCartier love, Cartier the thot\nCartier specs, buffalo on the side\nPrincess cut diamonds, they Cartier, yeah\nCartier bag for the Cartier thot\nSky Wrangler coupe with two hundred the dash\nCartier jeans, ain't no way I can sag\nAin't no way I'ma ever gon' go out bad\nI can't go out, no way I'ma go out\nI just grip on her ass and I show out\nI sit like a champ and I wait on a hold-out\nI just whip up a new Chanel Patek\nI whip with the wrist and I don't break the door out\nTurn the whole top floor to a whorehouse\nHundred racks in ones, dude brought the flood out\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot\nHot, hot, hot, hot, damn\nHot, hot, hot"}
{"text":"Thugger Thugger\nThugger\nStoner Life, YSL\n(808 Mafia)\n\nOkay, cool, okay, bool, I love her\nI'ma save her, yes, like Danny Glover\nI'ma call my papi for her, fuck the mother\nI pass them a molly, now they kiss each-other (Hot)\nEvery time I fuck I gotta hit me least like two bitches\nBoy, that dope been whipped, you need like new wrists\nForeign car outside, that bitch got two digits\nMoney stand like eight feet just like two midgets\n\nWho the fuck told you that Young Thugger Thugger don't fuck up the beat?\nI got six cars, and I also got rentals, and all of 'em tinted\nNo, I'm not Nipsey, not from L.A., but I got keys to the city\nI fuck it, I suck it, I beat it down, then she beat me to the ceiling\nStoner my lifestyle\nI'm livin' too wild\nI came to make you proud\nThat money keep her around\nIn love with her head, I can't turn it down\nCan't wait for my time to come back around\nShe see that you don't got Lil Haiti's style\nPlus I just seen Snoop on Girls Gone Wild\nI just bought a Bentley and a bitch came with it\nYoung rich nigga hittin' million dollar licks\nBalling in New York like a motherfucking Knick\nYou better have them racks, you ever want to hear me spit\nAnd everywhere I go I gotta pass like the staff\nI'm goin' off top like a motherfuckin' lay up\n357, six shots like Al\nI left ten bands in a motherfuckin' cab\nYou might also like\nOkay, cool, okay, bool, I love her\nI'ma save her, yes, like Danny Glover\nI'ma call my papi for her, fuck the mother\nI pass them a molly, now they kiss each-other (Hot)\nEvery time I fuck I gotta hit me least like two bitches\nBoy, that dope been whipped, you need like new wrists\nForeign car outside, that bitch got two digits\nMoney stand like eight feet just like two midgets\n\nI knew I was gonna run my money up and everybody didn't\nAll these niggas pussy niggas, tellin' on they partner\nHope the pussy nigga get a bigger sentence\nPussy nigga play, I'm coming back with the K\nAnd I'ma shoot that motherfucker 'til he livid\nBitches wanna see a nigga thumb through it fast\nI'ma name myself Young Thug Attendant\nHundred bands at a time I fronted you bags, but you\nI don't like using profanity, but the Young Thugger will cut you\nAll of my cups are muddy I fuck my bitches' buddies\nI just want nut like Buddy, all of my bitches buddies\nPanamera with the tinted roof\nAll the niggas dogs goin', \"Roof\"\nTop notch shawty, nigga ring came with karats\nYoung nigga rich, jewelry colder than the attic\nIf she ain't a virgin, then that bitch is only average\nI can't even hear ya, baby, get rid of the static\nI can't learn a bitch, but I learned mathematics\nI just ball her down whenever she call my pattern\nOkay, cool, okay, bool, I love her\nI'ma save her, yes, like Danny Glover\nI'ma call my papi for her, fuck the mother\nI pass them a molly, now they kiss each-other (Hot)\nEvery time I fuck I gotta hit me least like two bitches\nBoy, that dope been whipped, you need like new wrists\nForeign car outside, that bitch got two digits\nMoney stand like eight feet just like two midgets"}
{"text":"When you were worrying about pissing on your fuckin' self, I was a stoner\nBand gang\nDun Deal on the tra-a-a-ack\nWay back in 90-fucking'-4, when I was six or seven\nAyy, ayy, this that stoner music, nigga\nStoner! (This my damn bit!)\nStoner (Let's get it)\n\nI'm a stoner, I'm a stoner, I'm a stoner (I'm a stoner)\nI'm a stoner, I'm a stoner, I'm a stoner (Stoner!)\nI'm a stoner, I'm a stoner, I'm a stoner\nI'm a motherfuckin' stoner\n\nI just put a forty on my wrist just like a boss\nI just put ten thousand on my bitch just like a boss\nI just drank with YSL just like a f\u2014 boss\nJust like a f\u2014 boss, just like a, ch-ch! Boss, boss!\n\nThugger Thugger, you\nI want Michael Jackson land, ooh\nOh, I'ma cash out (And what?)\nI'm high as hell, ain't got no satellites on me (Moon)\nI tell that bitch, I feel like Fabo (What?)\nI feel like Fabo, I feel like Fabo (Ha)\nI feel like Fabo, I feel like Fabo (Like Fabo)\nI feel like Fabo, I feel just like Fabo (Fabo)\nI'm back at it (What?), Juugman voice (Yung Ralph, hahaha, hehe)\nBankhead\nHear my song 'way from YTC\nROB, SMM, now we YSL venom (Sheesh)\nSlime Thugger wit' it (Wit'), Slime DK wit it (Slatt)\nSlime Wicced with it (Slatt), Slime Mondo wit it (Slime)\nSlime Slugger with it (Slime), Slime Bubba wit it\nSlime Check with it (Yeah)\nCount hundreds and fifties off everyone city\nYou might also like\nI'm a stoner, I'm a stoner, I'm a stoner (Stoner)\nI'm a stoner, I'm a stoner, I'm a stoner (What?)\nI'm a stoner, I'm a stoner, I'm a stoner (Ye)\nI'm a motherfuckin' stoner\n\nI just put a forty on my wrist just like a boss (I feel like Fabo)\nI just put ten thousand on my bitch just like a boss (I feel like Fabo)\nI just drank with YSL just like a f\u2014 boss (I feel like Fabo)\nJust like a f\u2014 boss, just like a, ch-ch! Boss, boss!\n\nRun that money up, like you're 'bout to start trial\nWhen you beat the case, turn into a stoner child\nWe don't stand in line, foreign shoes hurt your feet\nEverybody stoned, weed, lean, molly, E (Woo)\nEvery time I walk inside the club, I see everybody looking\nYou know I'm a stoner, I love drugs and I can't never be tooken\nAnd you can suck my banana, but I won't eat your pudding\nSo come a lil' closer, my bitch won't know you\nAndal\u00e9 andal\u00e9 andal\u00e9, andal\u00e9 andal\u00e9 andal\u00e9\nHow the fuck a nigga think he gon' survive on a YSL runway\n(How, fool?)\nMy glasses are metro no blood off your chest\nI control your ho like Net-and-flix\nYour bitch is my dinner, she wet like a fish\nI took off her three legs: T-Rex\nI'm a stoner, I'm a stoner, I'm a stoner\nI'm a stoner, I'm a stoner, I'm a stoner\nI'm a stoner, I'm a stoner, I'm a stoner\nI'm a motherfuckin' stoner\n\nI just put a forty on my wrist just like a boss\nI just put ten thousand on my bitch just like a boss\nI just drank with YSL just like a f\u2014 boss\nJust like a f\u2014 boss, just like a, boss, boss\n\nI feel like Fabo, I feel like Fabo\nI feel like Fabo, I feel like Fabo\nI feel like Fabo, I feel like Fabo\nI feel just like"}
{"text":"Yeah\nJust like a G, you know?\nTrouble, Trouble, what's poppin', 5?\nB4, let's do it\nYee!\nI wake up and go get me some new money\nYou know I'm livin' like a G\nThese lil' niggas ain't gonna take nothin' from me\nYou know we do it like a G\nI swear to God I fuck on anyone\nJust like a gangsta, just like a G\nThis Duct Tape and YSL\nYou know I do it like a G\nG's up, hoes down\nG's up, hoes down\nG's up, hoes down\nG's up, hoes down\nG's up, hoes down\nG's up, hoes down\nG's up, hoes down\nG's up, hoes down\n\nLike a thief in the night\nI take anything but some pussy\nShe got that head like a dyke\nShe got that head that I like\nDeep in your partner ain't right\nPut that lil' babe on ice\nI make the paper like rice\nHead on that bucket, your mothafuckin' life, Skoob, uh\nI promise you don't know me\nI pull up 'bout my cake\nWhere I'm from is not safe\nI got fish, I'm a lake\nScoop them grits on a plate\nGuess she thought it was steak\nI'm a thief in the night\nMake her ride like a bike\nYou might also like\nI go down on a dyke, I go up on my price\nI might drop Kimbo Slice, kidnap like Uncle Ice\nI got grits at the beach and they white like a rice\nLet Trouble take your life\nAfter I give you five\nStraight put that five to the side\nIt ain't no question how nigga gon' ride\nWhen they come with them questions\nMy nigga get quiet, sh sh, nigga sit quiet, sh sh\nI am not takin' no disrespect\nYou Patrick Ewing, you pump fakin'\nNo that won't happen on me\nI drop a key like the mufuckin' beat\nI look good as your dad on a Friday\nSo many cars I gotta buy a driveway\nNever gon' let 'em live a nigga crime day\nServin' these X and P's instead of poppin'\nPockets fat up like they jumped 'em\nYSL, that slimy anaconda (Yeah)\nBickin' back, bein' bool like a uncle (Yeah)\nI'm so geeked up, I might fuck a condom\n\nLike a thief in the night\nI take anything but some pussy\nShe got that head like a dyke\nShe got that head that I like\nDeep in your partner ain't right\nPut that lil' babe on ice\nI make the paper like Rice\nHead on that bucket, your mothafuckin' life, Skoob, uh\nI promise you don't know me\nI pull up 'bout my cake\nWhere I'm from is not safe\nI got fish, I'm a lake\nScoop them grits on a plate\nGuess she thought it was steak\nI'm a thief in the night\nMake her ride like a bike\nI get 'em all on the rice (On the rice)\nShe didn't even know what it was but she taste it\nI dig in, her shit sound like Jason\nI be on Percocets more than occasion\nThey bettin' on me like in Vegas\nBettin' on me like I'm Vegas\nStick to the code man, there won't be no trace\nThugga Thugga, tell me what would you say?\nWhat would you say?\nNo J Money, but my gun say, \"Bow\"\nPop a molly, look at her then fiend\nI'm the target mofucka, no beam\nNo this shit is not good as it seems\nI might give her the boot with no jeans\nI kick shit like a chong and a ching\nI'm a boss, I'm 'bout that unity\nSandwiches, you know you in between\nAnd you gotta know we at the green\nYou gotta be young nigga, wilder than Billie Jean\nGotta have paper for lawyer fees\nYou ain't with it, you a L\nStill gettin' it, yeah, bails\nBreak it down on the scale\nIf it add up, hell yeah, I do it\nLap back as he ran to it\nLike a thief in the night\nI take anything but some pussy\nShe got that head like a dyke\nShe got that head that I like\nDeep in your partner ain't right\nPut that lil' babe on ice\nI make the paper like Rice\nHead on that bucket, your mothafuckin' life, Skoob, uh\nI promise you don't know me\nI pull up 'bout my cake\nWhere I'm from is not safe\nI got fish, I'm a lake\nScoop them grits on a plate\nGuess she thought it was steak\nI'm a thief in the night\nMake her ride like a bike"}
{"text":"Yeah, shinin' hard 'cause we back up (Back up)\nRose gold from your neck up (Young BL$$D, boy, you saucin')\nYou know shit gon' get sloppy, tryna check us (Check us)\nPop an X pill like we Malcolm (Young BL$$D, boy, you saucin'), yeah\n(BL$$D)\n\nI'm in a relationship with all my bitches, yeah\nI need to cut some of 'em off, I need help\nI got some bad tings, I want her to myself\nHad to take the time to cut 'em off, I need help\nI know how to make the girls go crazy\nWhen you treat her like your number one baby\nPut my bitches on yachts, we don't do jet-skis\nPut your ice on rocks, they need to help me\n\nNo baby, your collection, won't stand for it\nYou know you're in relationship with all us\nI get a few texts a day sayin', \"It's all yours\"\nI got a few states on speed dial like good drugs\nGet in your bag, uh, yeah, get in your bag, uh\nHundred new purse for a brat, uh\nComin' down the street, new Jag (Skrrt)\nTurbo bitch 'bout to drag, nigga had M's 'fore ass\nGot a brand new bitch, who that?\nRock the flooded AP, all black\nWhite toes, get me a tan, cocaine, killing time\nAll a bitch wanna do is shine, Audemars, pick which kind\nI made you a starter, you went from a dime to a quarter\nI Chico DeBarge it, I'm leaving that loud in apartments, yeah\nDon't play with a sergeant (Ah), I'm ready to spoil it (Ah)\nShe suck on my dick (Yeah), I'm hidin' in the closet (Uh)\nI'm higher than the moon, three mil' in the room\nYou get silver spoon, I bought you some goons\nYou might also like\nShinin' hard 'cause we back up (Back up)\nRose gold from your neck up (Yeah)\nYou know shit gon' get sloppy, tryna check us (Check us)\nPop an X pill like we Malcolm, yeah, hey\n\nI'm in a relationship with all my bitches, yeah\nI need to cut some of 'em off, I need help\nI got some bad tings, I want her to myself\nHad to take the time to cut 'em off, I need help\nI know how to make the girls go crazy\nWhen you treat her like your number one baby\nPut my bitches on yachts, we don't do jet-skis\nPut your ice on rocks, they need to help me\n\nI don't do jet-skis, give me the yacht please\nI made you queen status, check out my lean status\nI'm in a relationship with all my bitches, yeah\nI put my dick inside her mouth before she left\nYeah, I built relationships with all my bitches, yes\nI put my dick right in her mouth before she act\nI got your bitch in a backpack\nI paid extra for the crib, it got a kid shack\nI paid extra for the crib, it got a game room\nGot a penthouse in the back, it ain't my main room\nTamika, Jo and Porsche they kept it silent\nThat's the only reason I let 'em fly private\nShinin' hard 'cause we back up (Back up)\nRose gold from your neck up (Yeah)\nYou know shit gon' get sloppy, tryna check us (Check us)\nPop an X pill like we Malcolm, yeah, hey\n\nI'm in a relationship with all my bitches, yeah\nI need to cut some of 'em off, I need help\nI got some bad tings, I want her to myself\nHad to take the time to cut 'em off, I need help\nI know how to make the girls go crazy\nWhen you treat her like your number one baby\nPut my bitches on yachts, we don't do jet-skis\nPut your ice on rocks, they need to help me"}
{"text":"Thugger, YSL for life\nWe ran up the digits, we ran up the money\nWe ran up the digits, we ran up the money\nWe ran up some digits...\nWe got London on da Track\n\nNigga, hustlers don't stop, they keep goin' (Yeah)\nYou can lose your life but it gon' keep goin' (Yeah)\nWhy not risk life when it's gon' keep goin'? (Yeah)\nWhen you die somebody else was born\nBut at least we got to say\u2026\n\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up the money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up that money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up that money (Sheesh, sheesh)\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up the money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up some money\nWe ran up some digits, we ran up some money\n\nI'm leanin' like I'm on a fifth of the Henny\nI talk lots of shit like my bitches and digits\nThey didn't know me well so I left 'em with wishes\nYou know its a drought when you grind and can't flip it (Wow, woo)\nI'm livin' big, I swear to God I'm Liu Kang kickin' (What?)\nMontana\nMama gon' slime, hustle\nDopeboy, hair grey like a grandma\nYou know my ice blingin', light up just like a candle (Ah)\nRollie pollie, I can control shawty like a channel (Rollie, Rollie)\nMy racks are squeakin', I'm not fartin'\nI hop in that 'Rari, I crank up like Warren\nYou might also like\nNigga, hustlers don't stop, they keep goin' (Yeah)\nYou can lose your life but it's gon' keep goin'\nWhy not risk life when it's gon' keep goin'? (Yeah, just know that)\nWhen you die somebody else was born\nBut at least we got to say\u2026\n\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up the money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up that money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up that money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up the money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up some money\nWe ran up some digits, we ran up some money\n\nI'ma move me some dope like I'm Future\nI'ma go in that bit' with a ruler\nI'ma toast me a nigga like Strudels\nI'ma keep a red flag 'cause I'm boolin' (Woah, flatt, hahaha)\nI know some roller spaces, I could duly (Woo, rollin', rollin')\nYeah, yeah, I'm screamin', \"Oh my God,\" like Cooly (Oh my God)\nWhen I snort it, I feel like I was aborted (Huh, what?)\nIf I ever adore you, bae, you better drive what's foreign (Foreign)\nI've been gettin' money before the music, fuck Pandora (Fuck, fuck)\nI just do this shit when I get bored\nNigga, hustlers don't stop, they keep goin' (Yeah)\nYou can lose your life but it's gon' keep goin' (Yeah)\nWhy not risk life when it's gon' keep goin'? (Yeah)\nWhen you die somebody else was born\nBut at least we got to say...\n\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up the money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up that money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up that money (Run it up, run it up)\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up the money\nWe ran up them digits, we ran up some money\nWe ran up some digits, we ran up some money\n\nWe got London on da Track"}
{"text":"(Supah Mario)\nThugger\nTip\nThis Actavis by the way, I promise, on God\n\nOkay, my money way longer than a NASCAR race (Yeah)\nI told her keep going on the gas, fuck the brakes\nOnly here for one night, let me put it on your face\nLet a nigga nut, only way I'll go to sleep (Woo)\nBoolin', rockin' all the Franck Muller (Franck Muller)\nI know some hoes with good head, fuck a tutor (Good head)\nSo many hundreds, how the hell I'm going to lose 'em? (Gonna lose 'em)\nPut me in the Jaggy or the Wraith and now I'm coolin' (Skrrt, skrrt)\n\nPlay with my money, I'ma let them niggas do you (Hey, hey)\n(I do lie, yeah, I do)\nPlay with my money, I'ma let them niggas do you (Oh yeah, hey)\n(I do lie, yeah, I do)\nPlay with my money, I'ma let these niggas do you (Hey, hey)\n(I do lie, yeah, I do)\nPlay with my money\n(I do lie, yeah, I do)\nPlay with my (Hey), play with my money (Hey)\nYou might also like\nPlay around with my cash (Yeah)\nEnd up in a body bag (Ah)\nEnd of story, dig that (Ah)\nPull up, hoppin' out a cab (Skrrt)\nShe know she got a nigga bad (She know it)\nShe know she gotta keep a bag (Gotta)\nShe know I gotta keep me some cash (Keep)\nShe know she gotta hop on top of the dick (Woo)\nShe know she gotta ride that motherfucker (Don't you)\nHer mama done walked in but it's too big\nShe can't hide that motherfucker (No, she)\nEven if she divided the motherfucker (Whoa)\nMan, even if she minused the motherfucker (Whoa)\nJoin in, get demolished, motherfucker (Whoa)\nI ain't gon' disguise it, motherfucker (Whoa), nah\nShop at Saks Fifth, flow on DatPiff (Woo)\nYeah, I'm that swift, ask her and him (Woo)\nYeah, ask 'em, put a bone in them\nPut a choker on 'em, let 'em choke and all\nAll my children spoiled, yeah, they got it all (Yeah)\nDaughter sexy and my son got the broads (Woo)\nSpent racks on my son and his squad (Racks)\nDaddy boy, never play with toys (On God)\nBetter not play with 'em boys (Play with 'em boys)\nNew AK with them boys (AK with them boys)\nNew feng shui with the boys (Shui with the boys)\nDrippin' all day for the boys (Day with the boys)\nBitch, you ain't ready for the boys (You ain't ready for the boys)\nI'm in that Wraith, homeboy (Skrrt)\nIf you ever play with the boy (Play with the boy)\nI'ma turn the blade on 'em boys (Brrt, hey)\nI'll do everybody, yeah, I'll do 'em\n(Woo, yeah)\nI'll do everybody, yeah, I'll do 'em\n(Thugger, Thugger, YSL, slatt)\nDo everybody, yeah, hey, hey\n(Slatt, slatt)\nDo everybody, yeah, I'll do 'em\n(Slatt, slatt, slatt, slatt)\n\nOkay, my money way longer than a NASCAR race (Slatt)\nI told her keep going on the gas, fuck the brakes\nOnly here for one night, let me put it on your face (Slatt)\nLet a nigga nut, only way I'll go to sleep (Slatt)\nBoolin', rockin' all the Franck Muller (Slatt, slatt)\nI know some hoes with good head, fuck a tutor (Slatt, slatt)\nSo many hundreds, how the hell I'm going to lose 'em?\nPut me in the Jaggy or the Wraith and now I'm coolin'\n\nNigga, watch that dog (Yeah), watch (Watch, watch)\nNiggas plottin' on the boy, spot 'em (Uh)\nPut the target on they head, dot 'em, dot 'em, dot 'em (Ooh)\nAnd I'm good, got a rabbit's foot in my wallet (Woo)\nTell 'em pick it up then drop it, drop it (Drop it)\nDo some sit ups then show your body (Then show it)\nGot her bent up, I done took a gram of Molly (Whoa)\nHer car dented up like she rent to everybody (Haha)\nDo my yay, I'll do (Hey, hey)\nDo my yay, I'll do (Yeah, yeah)\nDo my yay, I'll do (Yeah, yeah)\nDo my yay, I'll do\n\nOkay, my money way longer than a NASCAR race (Yeah)\nI told her keep going on the gas, fuck the brakes\nOnly here for one night, let me put it on your face (Yeah)\nLet a nigga nut, only way I'll go to sleep (Woo)\nBoolin', rockin' all the Franck Muller (Franck Muller)\nI know some hoes with good head, fuck a tutor (Good head)\nSo many hundreds, how the hell I'm going to lose 'em? (Gonna lose 'em)\nPut me in the Jaggy or the Wraith and now I'm coolin' (Hey)"}
{"text":"I done put twenty up under the SIG\nYou dig? You dig? You dig? (That boy Cassius)\nAyy (Wheezy Beats)\n\nI done put twenty inside the SIG (You dig?)\nI pull up on you and I pop at your kid (You dig?)\nI pull up to your block and I pop at your bitch (You dig?)\nI hopped out the coupe and I'm fresh as a bitch (You dig? You dig? You dig?)\nSince I was a youngin, I been gettin' dough (You dig? You dig?)\nI count my backend and I turn up the show (You dig? You dig?)\nI want hella Xans, it gears me up (You dig? You dig?)\nI put the V neck on my team, yeah (You dig? You dig? You dig? You dig? Hey)\n\nI dig everything that you sayin'\nI dig everything that you doin' too\nI dig the way that you look at me\nYou dig the way that I look at you\nI just wanna grab on your butt, butt\nThe seat in the Benz, the Chanel Clutch\nThe FN, it give him a haircut\nI roll up a seven of John Dutch\nThat big booty bounce on the dick and it broke\nI don't gotta act like a gangster, she know\nDope, my Backwood look like a pole (Yeah)\nMy Backwood look like a pole\nI sit on clouds of the smoke\nI'ma blow clouds of the smoke\nPardon me, pardon my soul\nI crack a smile for them folks, ayy\nNiggas, they eatin' in broad day\nIn that ho mouth like a Colgate, yeah\nKeepin' that cold case, God, please give me that cold case\nMan, I don't want no new friends, forgive me for all of my sins\nI don\u2019t wanna think about losin', all I wanna do is win, win (Hey)\nYou might also like\nI done put twenty inside the SIG (You dig?)\nI pull up on you and I pop at your kid (You dig?)\nI pull up to your block and I pop at your bitch (You dig?)\nI hopped out the coupe and I'm fresh as a bitch (You dig? You dig? You dig?)\nSince I was a youngin, I been gettin' dough (You dig, you dig)\nI count my backend and I turn up the show (You dig? You dig?)\nI want hella Xans, it gears me up (You dig? You dig?)\nI put the V neck on my team, yeah (You dig? You dig? You dig? You dig? Hey)\n\nWithout the radio, it's twenty a show and that's for sure (Count up)\nGet that backend, bitch, we buyin' dope, that's how it go (Count up)\nBlack Amigos, 'bout the Freebandz (Yeah), that .44\nI could cook the dope with no stove (Whip), pot on the floor (Whip, yeah)\nPull up in that coupe, shit (Skrrt)\nNigga like, \"Damn, where the roof went?\" (Damn)\nIn the streets, they call me JAY-Z (Yeah)\nLil' bitch, I got the blueprint (Scooter)\nLil' nigga, I don't want no old hundreds\nYou know I want them blue strips (Count up)\nAnd I can't fuck you old hoes, I'm ballin' with my new bitch (Yeah)\nYou dig that? (You dig?)\nTwo hundred thousand worth of chain, and that's a fact\nHear my name in this rap game, I was sellin' crack (Jugg, jugg)\nRest in peace to OG Double D, you dig that? Slime\nI done put twenty inside the SIG (You dig?)\nI pull up on you and I pop at your kid (You dig?)\nI pull up to your block and I pop at your bitch (You dig?)\nI hopped out the coupe and I'm fresh as a bitch (You dig? You dig? You dig?)\nSince I was a youngin, I been gettin' dough (You dig? You dig?)\nI count my backend and I turn up the show (You dig? You dig?)\nI want hella Xans, it gears me up (You dig? You dig?)\nI put the V neck on my team, yeah (Yeah, yeah, Quavo) (You dig? You dig? You dig? You dig? Hey)\n\nShoot out the coupe (Pew-pew)\nShoot out the roof (Shoot out the roof)\nPull up and smash on her\nWe don't got to put a bag on her\nI took your ho, you dig? (You dig?)\nI told her, \"Hold the SIG\" (SIG)\nHad big bales, midget (Big bales)\nNow you can't say I ain't got millions (Ayy)\nSwam with the sharks, water (Splash)\nYou be law and order (12)\nI be gettin' money every mornin', Tom Joyner (Uh)\nHeard you gettin' money but you payin', them niggas extortin' ya (Dig)\nYou pay for your fame and fortune (Huh)\nYou pay for your fame and fortune (Fame)\nI am the plug, cordless (Brrt)\nPull up with blazers, Portland (Brrt)\nI pay the neighbors (Cash)\nTo pick up the dope on they porches (Dope, uh)\nI came from nickels, I came from nickels\nMy niggas don't know you, we do not fuck with you\nI've been in the system, I've been in a pickle\nYou dig me like shovels, I gotta fuck with you (Ayy)\nI done put twenty inside the SIG (You dig?)\nI pull up on you and I pop at your kid (You dig?)\nI pull up to your block and I pop at your bitch (You dig?)\nI hopped out the coupe and I'm fresh as a bitch (You dig? You dig? You dig?)\nSince I was a youngin, I been gettin' dough (You dig? You dig?)\nI count my backend and I turn up the show (You dig? You dig?)\nI want hella Xans, it gears me up (You dig? You dig? Hey)\nI put the V neck on my team, yeah (You dig? You dig? You dig? You dig? Hey) (Offset)\n\nHop in the private (Private)\nThis a Lambo', not a hybrid (Skrrt, hey)\nMy wrist is a faucet (Water)\nFeed her Perkies, I'm the doctor (Doctor)\nDraco, hundred round chopper (Grrah)\nShe got her eyes on me like binoculars (Watchin')\nCount up this money, it's marvellous (Count it up)\nStall the bitch, I don't call the bitch (Stall her)\nYou better dig what I'm sayin' (Dig what I'm-)\nI'ma kill you and your mans (I'ma kill)\nBeat down the block like an amp (Beat it)\nGoin' up like a skateboard on a ramp (Whoa, ayy)\nGo buy the Rollie and bust it (Bust it, bust it, hey)\nTalkin' that tough shit, but you know you not gon' bust shit (Huh, huh, huh, grrah)\nLook at my fashion, this is a Gucci rugby (Look at it, look at it)\nI'm trappin' and rappin', still got them babies in custody (Trappin' and rappin')\nMy diamonds be dancin', live in a mansion, my life is lovely (My life is lovely, hey)\nAin't no more loyalty (Nah)\nKnock your ass off, pay the lawyer fee (Baow, baow, baow)\nShit can get ugly, hey\n\nI done put twenty inside the SIG (You dig?)\nI pull up on you and I pop at your kid (You dig?)\nI pull up to your block and I pop at your bitch (You dig?)\nI hopped out the coupe and I'm fresh as a bitch (You dig? You dig? You dig?)\nSince I was a youngin, I been gettin' dough (You dig? You dig?)\nI count my backend and I turn up the show (You dig? You dig)\nI want hella Xans, it gears me up (You dig? You dig?)\nI put the V neck on my team, yeah (You dig? You dig? You dig? You dig? Hey)"}
{"text":"Thugger Thugger, baby\nFuck all that, let's get to it\nWhat lil' shawty say?\n\nShe suck on that dick on the plane and I just call her airhead (Woo! Hee!)\nI just went hunting, I found me a rabbit, I picked out the carrots (Picked out the carrots)\nI'm just tired of smoking kushy, I need some Moonrock out in Cali (Uh-uh-uh)\nI got a white bitch and she give me that Becky but her name is Sari (Hee!)\n\nI pimp, I don't play with them\nShe bad, I might stay with her\nStack it up like a Lego, yeah\nHomicide, you can lay with them (Yeah)\nGot some hoes, you can slay with them\nYou know that we players, we paying 'em (Yeah)\nShe can't be my wife, I can't lay in there (Nah)\nDiamonds all black like I'm racist now (Hee, hee)\n\nRi-ri-riding through the city, windows tinted, AC blast\nI got bitches wanna fuck me, so, so wrong (Uh), do me bad (Uh)\nI got cash in my pants (Woah), I got cash on her ass\nAP dance, bitches glance 'cause my diamonds look like glass\nYou might also like\nI wanna fuck her, but she play more games than the NBA\nMonday morning, got a dentist appointment, lil' bitch\nYou can check out the dentures plate (Check it out)\nI got so much jewelry, baby\nI got so much water, this shit like a mini-lake\nFuck nigga play, I'ma send him to meet his maker\nThen ask God for forgiveness, bae (Brrt)\nCop a chopper, end up flipping niggas\nYeah, you better stop tripping, nigga (Yeah)\nI don't use words when I kill a nigga\nWe don't use phones, we no silly niggas (Woah)\nI think I need help with my kidney, nigga\nNo cat, but you know I'm just kidding with you\nI make this shit fly out the ceiling, nigga\nI'm hot like an eye on a skillet, nigga (Dig?)\n\nShe suck on that dick on the plane and I just call her airhead (Woo! Hee!)\nI just went hunting, I found me a rabbit, I picked out the carrots (Picked out the carrots)\nI'm just tired of smoking kushy, I need some Moonrock out in Cali (Uh-uh-uh)\nI got a white bitch and she give me that Becky but her name is Sari (Hee!)\n\nI pimp, I don't play with them\nShe bad, I might stay with her\nStack it up like a Lego, yeah\nHomicide, you can lay with them (Yeah)\nGot some hoes, you can slay with them\nYou know that we players, we playing 'em (Yeah)\nShe can't be my wife, I can't lay in there (Nah)\nDiamonds all black like I'm racist now (Hee, hee)\nYou can't take jack, fall into this mouse trap (Bitch)\nRi-ri-riding through the bity, got a AK on my lap (Skrr)\nI'm not talking shit, but I'm ready to shoot some craps\nIf he think he wanna see me, I'ma send a hundred straps\n(Lil' Blood)\n\nI\u2014I\u2014I got some birds like I'm Julio (Yeah)\nMy outfit outdated, it's Coogi though (Yeah)\nI want pussy or head, you a groupie ho\nBalmain with a motherfuckin' Gucci coat (Damn)\nI won't talk to that bitch, let that coochie know (Yeah)\nYeah, let that coochie know (Let it know)\nDiamonds from Tiffany Co (Yeah)\nPaid a whole hundred racks for those (Racks)\nYou should get down with this slime shit (Slime)\nTonight I'm 'bout geeked out my mind shit\nMy credit good, I don't need a dime shit\nPour Act' inside that lemon lime shit\nThat petty thief need to stop tryin' shit\nIf you need help I got some dime bitches\nI cannot stand none these lyin' bitches\nI need a website for some fine bitches\n\nShe suck on that dick on the plane and I just call her airhead (Woo! Hee!)\nI just went hunting, I found me a rabbit, I picked out the carrots (Picked out the carrots)\nI'm just tired of smoking kushy, I need some Moonrock out in Cali (Uh-uh-uh)\nI got a white bitch and she give me that Becky but her name is Sari (Hee!)\nI pimp, I don't play with them\nShe bad, I might stay with her\nStack it up like a Lego, yeah\nHomicide, you can lay with them (Yeah)\nGot some hoes, you can slay with them\nYou know that we players, we playing 'em (Yeah)\nShe can't be my wife, I can't lay in there (Nah)\nDiamonds all black like I'm racist now (Hee, hee)"}
{"text":"Turn it up, Thugger\nThugger, and let's go\n\nHalftime (What?), half a Perky, half a xanny, nigga, halftime\nHalf a pint, pour up an eight, my nigga, halftime\nTryna rob, that stick turn his body to halftime (Boom), yeah\nHit the streets and tear this bitch up like I'm Willie B (Yeah)\nNo Tennessee, but the chain on my neck is a T (Ayy)\nNo Memph' Bleek, bitch, I own the Roc, not JAY-Z (Rock), ya dig?\nWar Ready like Tracy T, ya dig? (Pew-pew, pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-pew)\nRacks on racks on racks, just might pull up on my Spider (Skrr...)\nAll my diamonds black, you can motherfuckin' knight 'em (...rr...)\nAll these pussy niggas wack, I'm a murk 'em every night'll (...rr...)\nPull up screamin' \"Blatt,\" got my motor out a Viper (...rrt)\nGot 100 million flat like my motherfuckin' idol\nI might eat it, I might lick it, but I swear I'll never bite 'em (No)\nEvery time I dress myself, it go motherfuckin' viral (Ah)\nPussy niggas stealin' swag, bring my shit back like recycles (Ha)\nI might ask her for some head\nI don't know that ho, I act like she dead\nInsurance on my money like a wreck (Ayy)\nEvery time I see her, she lick the cleavage\nFuck her on a ten-thousand dollar bed\nI could never love her, fuck her head\nSuck my dick like Beavis, no Butthead (Woo)\nCocaine white like Justin Bieber, bitch\nI might show the racks and tease the bitch (What?)\nI might want it but I don't need the bitch (Shee)\nI been flooded out by Jesus, bitch (Shee)\nI want your pizza, Little Caesar's, bitch (Shee)\nNinth Ward, I buy my diesel, bitch (Shee)\nI don't wanna talk or see a snitch (No)\nNo teacher, we chalkin' shit\nI passed school, I'm passin' all the staffs\nI just want that neck like a giraffe\nI like fish and water, I'm a bear\n17.5, I shave it like it's Nair\nLay out, watch the kids like a daycare\nI don't play games, no, I'm not the fair\nI got Hot Wheels like a motherfuckin' chariot (Skrrt)\nChanel Vintage, boy, this shit is rare\nYou might also like\nHey, a good time\nHey, let's have a good time, hey, a very good ti-i-ime\nHey, let's have a very good time\nHey, a very good time, hey-ooh, let's have a very good ti-i-ime\n\nI done figured this shit out, if you think you gon' bite on my swag, it's a virus (Oh)\nI don the swag and I pull up on bitches dressed in all white like Miley Cyrus (Yeah)\nNo, I'm not gay, I fuck bitches on bitches, I whip out, she suck on my private (Suck it)\nLil' nigga play, I'ma catch him down bad and then stick 'em, fold 'em like a wallet (Ooh)\nI swear to God there's only one of me and these bitches three-deep like a trident (Ooh)\nI'm walkin' through it like tons of the ones and these bitches grabbin', I'm at Follies (Ooh)\nFuck nigga try me, I swear to God, lil' whoadie pull up and pop at his noggin' (Pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-pew)\nBitch, I got water, I look like I'm fresh from Hawaii\n\nHavin' the time of my motherfuckin' life\nI'm gonna buy everything I want, I can't think twice\nYou can turn the ice tray off, baby, I'm havin' ice\nAs long as I live, wouldn't want a wife\n\nHey, a good time\nHey, let's have a good time, hey, a very good ti-i-ime\nHey, let's have a very good time\nHey, a very good time, hey-ooh, let's have a very good ti-i-ime"}
{"text":"Nigga, turn up\nIt's Guwop\nTrap house (Thugger), bunkin'\nTrap house mansion\nYeah, right on Flat Shoals Exit, nigga\nWe got London on da Track\nI'm pourin' fours and shit, I need to just put a deuce in (Drank)\nCar cost four-hundred-thou' and I put a roof in\nMy nigga pot cook it so good, he put his shoe in it\nNigga, it's a gangster party, why fuck is you in it? (Nigga)\nHead buster, microwave shit, didn't take him two minutes\nYou know that there's some straps in the club, they let my crew in (Squad)\nI might just do the Michael Vick, man, and cook it left hand\nIf you ain't talkin' 'bout buyin' grams then I'm a deaf man (Shh)\nI can make the dope do numbers, the Stacey Augmon\nI told my bitch to dye her hair red like Dennis Rodman\nIf Gucci Mane got so much money then why he robbin'?\nWe thirty deep, we cover the streets, nigga, we mobbin' (Yeah)\n\n(It's Guwop), again\nThugger and Guwop, again\nChasin' that guap, again\nThat my lil' whoadie, again\nWe chasin' that money baby, again\nWe fuckin' your homie's baby, again\nPay if you owe me, baby, go and show me, baby\nPull up and pour it\nI'ma go gold and you know it\nI got gold on my Rollie (Woo)\nAnd I'm real right like a poet\nI look like a dope boy, I know it (Woo)\nI know I'ma win it like Floyd (Woo)\nI became an important lil' boy (Woo)\nMoney long like a sock with some shorts (Slatt)\nYou might also like\nMy bitch white and she brown like a port\nEd-umacation abort\nBookin' these dorks\nI jumped off the porch and went north (Slatt)\nWhipped you some dope for the narcotics (Yeah)\nYSL hardbody\nI got 'bout twenty chickens in the lobby, baby\nRide it, ride it, Kawasaki, 'saki\nI don't speak english (Nah)\nI fuck that mouth on the 6's\nI'm the big homie, I'm leakin'\nStick to the streets like I'm cement\nI'on need no change, you can keep it\nI'on want your verse on my remix\nNo panties, she my secret\nGot a hunnid bands on me, I'm cheesin'\nBeanie Sigel, lookin' down like an eagle\n\n(It's Guwop), again\nThugger and Guwop, again\nChasin' that guap, again\nThat my lil' whoadie, again\nWe chasin' that money baby, again\nWe fuckin' your homie's baby, again\nPay if you owe me baby, go and show me, baby\nPull up and pour it\nI'ma go gold and you know it\nI got gold on my Rollie\nAnd I'm real right like a poet (Slatt)\nI look like a dope boy, I know it (Woo)\nI know I'ma win it like Floyd (I win)\nI became an important lil' boy (Became)\nMoney long like a sock with some shorts (Woo, woo)\nWhippin' that bitch\nShe whip out that dick\nShe suckin', damn, she fuckin', damn\nSittin' a band on her knees like a bucket, damn, yeah"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsHercules Lyrics\nThugger\nThe Thugger, baby, yeah\n(Young Metro, Young Metro, Young Metro)\nMetro! Hee\nYoung Metro, Young Metro, Young Metro\nAnd what?\n(Metro Boomin want some more, nigga)\n\nShit, shoot him in his back like Ricky but not Slick\nSpent like seven bands on a tri-color pit\nAll my signs red like a stop, nigga, no pit\nI\u2019m on the purple, nigga, high like fuckin' Martians, woah\nIn a foreign yesterday, I was just walkin', woah\nLeft my baby mama, now my bitch a Barbie, woah\nAll-red Dickies suit, I'm ridin' down Slauson, woah (skrt)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nHercu-Hercules (whoa, yeah, yeah, hey, hey)\nHercu-Hercules (heeh, heeh, yay, heeh, heeh)\nHercu-Hercules (ooh, yah, yaaaaah, yeah, yeah)\nHercu-Hercules (I got, I got, I got lean)\n\nI smoke gas, that's that Hercules (strong marijuana)\nShe looked at him, oh, now she watchin' me (Bitch likes my persona)\nBitch, I'm speedin' to that guapanese (skrrt)\nOld Chevy mounted up, I can't forget the T\nDrop the top, shoot birds at the officers (fuck 'em)\nFuck them boys, they costin' us, they stalkin' us\nThey know they old lady not runnin', they fall for us\nWe so tired of takin' losses, ain't no more chalkin' us, I promise\nYSL on ape and they donkeys\nThese niggas pointless, they want me wanted\nI'm still a stoner, MAC and cheese on me\nThese niggas clonin', I'm full but I'm still hungry\nHey when the click clock, I'll make your bitch stop\nIce inside my tick tock, boss cookies, no brisco\nI just bought a Cuban link, flooded with big rocks\nSnitches tryna juug at me, I gotta dead sum\nWhoa, shit\nYou might also like\nShit, shoot him in his back like Ricky but not Slick\nSpent like seven bands on a tri-color pit\nAll my signs red like a stop, nigga, no pit\nI\u2019m on the purple, nigga, high like fuckin' Martians, woah\nIn a foreign yesterday, I was just walkin', woah\nLeft my baby mama, now my bitch a Barbie, woah\nAll-red Dickies suit, I'm ridin' down Slauson, woah (skrt)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nHercu-Hercules (whoa, yeah, yeah, hey, hey)\nHercu-Hercules (heeh, heeh, yay, heeh, heeh)\nHercu-Hercules (ooh, yah, yaaaaah, yeah, yeah)\nHercu-Hercules (I got, I got, I got lean)\n\nOkay first of all, I was doin' this shit 'fore I was rich\nI don't care at all, I'll go do a dolphin for my clique\nFuck your conference call, pull up with a check and get my sig\nDouble D, you dig? No firework, it was lit\nAnd then some fuck nigga was hatin' on me\nThey took ya life, I know some fuck niggas waitin' on it\nI grab that TEC, I grab that 40 and the F&N\nThen we pulled up ready to squabble, yeah we waited on 'em\nAnaconda, we on that slime stuff, here to remind ya\nFucked your old lady, she want the finest\nYSL, we shinin', let her stand behind us\nYeah my crew we rock, rock, baby you can climb us\nI call my migo, migo come and let me juug through the city\nHe stuffed it with burritos and he let 'em fly right to me\nBitches call me Casino but I let 'em ride 'round the city\nShe want bingo, kilo, no sweat, now she can ride in the Bentley\nWhoa\nShit, shoot him in his back like Ricky but not Slick\nSpent like seven bands on a tri-color pit\nAll my signs red like a stop, nigga, no pit\nI\u2019m on the purple, nigga, high like fuckin' Martians, woah\nIn a foreign yesterday, I was just walkin', woah\nLeft my baby mama, now my bitch a Barbie, woah\nAll-red Dickies suit, I'm ridin' down Slauson, woah (skrt)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nHercu-Hercules (whoa, yeah, yeah, hey, hey)\nHercu-Hercules (heeh, heeh, yay, heeh, heeh)\nHercu-Hercules (ooh, yah, yaaaaah, yeah, yeah)\nHercu-Hercules (I got, I got, I got lean)\n\nThugger Thugger said he have a brand new stick\nThugger Thugger sittin' on some fashion shit\nThugger Thugger still livin' like a boss\nYSL my team, my squad\nMetro Boomin want some more, nigga"}
{"text":"Thugger\nSlime, snake life\n\nEighty-hundred capsules of Molly\nJust be very still, I ain't gonna hurt anybody\nHell nah, I ain't 12, but if I like it, I cop it\nI met Papi and he say he good at uploadin' wallets\nCatch me ridin' with them slimes 'cause them my youngins\nCatch me boolin' with them slimes 'cause them my youngins\nI be slimin' with them slimes 'cause them my youngins\nCatch me slidin' with the slimes 'cause them my youngins (Hey)\n\nChrissy Carter bezel inside my baby pampers, ew (Ew)\nI get all the work and let the J's snort the scale (Sheesh)\nMy bitch ride slow with the yay' like she get L's (Sheesh)\nI wear that white, I cook that white, but I am not no chef (Woo)\nAdd a little soda to put the tan on it (Tan on it)\nI got the shit for the L-O, and my shawty want it (Shawty want it)\nI drink more mud than a pig, I think pork want me (Ugh)\nAnd the front of the Mazi look like a fork, don't it? (Sheesh, sheesh)\nLet it breathe (Let it breathe)\nI'm not no rat, but Young Thugger be chasin' cheese (Chasin' cheese)\nI want the M's and I'm not talking Mickey D's (D's)\nMy jewelry gold like the tokens at Chuck E. Cheese (Blatt)\nYou might also like\nOlde English, eighty-hundred capsules of Molly\nJust be very still, I ain't gonna hurt anybody\nHell nah, I ain't 12, but if I like it, I cop it\nI met Papi and he say he good at uploadin' wallets\nCatch me ridin' with them slimes 'cause them my youngins\nCatch me boolin' with them slimes 'cause them my youngins\nI be slimin' with them slimes 'cause them my youngins\nI'm with my youngins\nCatch me slidin' with the slimes 'cause them my youngins\nYeah, yeah, E-S to the G-N, bitch\n\nSlammin' with my youngins (Yeah) couple hundred onions (Yeah)\nBreaking down them twenties, what you need? We got it for you (Yeah)\nChop a chicken down to chicken nuggets for my cluckers (Yeah)\nSpray that Cutlass, threw them Forgiatos on that motherfucker (Yeah, yeah)\nGangsta Gibbs, ho, fresh up off a powder pack (Yeah)\nSolo on the '94, bitch, I brought that powder back (Yeah)\nGeekers do that zombie walk, bitch, I let that chopper talk (Yeah)\nNiggas get to talking, ch-ch-chop 'em off like tomahawks\nCh-chop 'em off like tomahawks\nEight thousand capsules of molly (Yeah)\nSelling dope and robbing, mom, I dropped out of college (Yeah)\nJumped off in this rap shit, I've been one hundred solid, yeah\nPolice ever catch me then they gon' catch a body\nIt's Gangsta Gibbs\nOlde English, eight-hundred capsules of Molly\nJust be very still, I ain't gonna hurt anybody\nHell nah, I ain't 12, but if I like it, I cop it\nI met Papi and he say he good at uploadin' wallets\nCatch me ridin' with them slimes 'cause them my youngins (Ah)\nCatch me boolin' with them slimes 'cause them my youngins (Ah)\nI be slimin' with them slimes 'cause them my youngins (Yeah, woo, woo)\nCatch me slidin' with the slimes 'cause them my youngins (Ah, Ferg)\n\nOne night I was in Santos, it was lit like a candle\nI was fly like a bird, I had on St\u00fcssy Bape camo\nWith a cutie espa\u00f1ol, she had a booty like J-Lo\nShe had Jacobsen sandals, you've been trapped in the bando\nShe has to trap in the bando 'cause her mama got cancer\nShe can't work in the States because her green papers ain't legal (Yeah)\nFuck a \"dame un beso\", she be like, \"Run de un peso\" (Alright)\nPush the molly to Pedro so she can feed her abuelo\nShe refuse to just settle on them shoes with them red soles\nAnd refuse to be nude in front of them dudes on that dance pole (Alright)\nShe can't lose, she just ooze a bunch of ambition like Napo\n-Leon, I could be ruler and ride the streets on my Benzo\nSo, then she get money vicarious off her friends though\n'Cause a kid named Birdy look nerdy but he be after the bando (Alright)\nShe robbed Birdy for birdies, now Birdy after her head though\nHold on I think I see Birdy and Birdy killed my Cuban ho (Ferg)"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsGivenchy Lyrics\nThat Rich Gang lifestyle (Lifestyle)\nMarble floors, gold toilets and chandeliers (You underdig?)\nBig money, nigga\nTake the jet\nL.A., hit the bity\nBoolin' in the bondo with a few bitches\nAnd they go to trippin' (And they go to trippin')\nDrankin' that GTV, that tequila\nSmokin' them stunna blunts (The big dogs)\nNigga, we never hungover (Never, boy)\nPoppin' bigger numbers with my niggas\nStraight B's only (Straight B's only)\nShout out to my love, my blood, my team, my gang, my family\nNigga, you know what we bleed (You know what we bleed)\n404, 305-04 (Uptown)\nWhat's poppin', nigga?\nB-House of Dank, put it in the air\nThis that YSL, Rich Gang, RHQ, YMCMB shit (You heard?)\nBig B's with a few C's (Few C's)\nPeeWee, what's poppin', nigga?\nBankroll Mafia\nHot Beezle, what's brackin', nigga?\nThe pussy out of line, the pussy get they head bust (Get they head bust)\nHa, you dig?\nB-Loc and Bentley, y'all know the business\nIt's B-Slime or G5, blatt\nRest in peace Tamara and Miss Gladys, boy\nOh (Rich Gang), ayy\nOh (Rich girl)\n\n(Ayy) Givenchy my toes and my bros and my hoes\n(What, Givenchy, Givenchy)\nGivenchy my toes and my bros and my hoes\nFor sure, for sure (Givenchy)\nGivenchy my toes and my bros and my hoes\nFor sure, for sure (Givenchy)\nGivenchy my toes and my bros and my hoes\nAnd that is for sure, it's for sure (For sure)\n\nTell a nigga, would you ride for a nigga, baby? (Yeah)\nWould you die for a nigga, baby? Hey (Would ya?)\nBaby girl, would you cry for your nigga, baby?\nWould you cry for your nigga, baby?\nAyy (Ayy), baby girl, what you know, what you know 'bout that?\nWhat you know 'bout that? You don\u2019t know nothin' (Uh-uh)\nBaby girl, what you know 'bout that, 'bout that?\nWhat you know 'bout that? You don't know nothin'\n\nShe don't know it, she don't know it (Ayy)\nWork on her any day or later, ayy (Woo)\nEat her candy, Now-and-Later, wait (Wait)\nI ain't through, baby, buy her acres (Rich Gang)\n(Racks, racks) Almost done\nLet me put somethin' inside her stomach (Whoa)\nLet me put some right up under your lungs (Rich gang)\nBaby, I just wanna hit like Barry Bonds (Was)\nI know all you wanna do is have fun (Have fun)\nI put my heart inside your pocket, you can't break it (Woo)\nI told you I love you to death, never dissed you, not once (Ayy)\nYou my twin, yeah, you my twin, baby, let's stay together (Stay)\nYou know you can never ditch me, baby, you know better (Ayy)\nYou know I look at you like gold, you my future trophy (Woo)\nShe know she got my heart, she say, \"Do it,\" I jump like toads and (Do it)\nDrugs don't stop, you know I can't stop, wait\nBaby, don't press charges, she know that I'm on the block (Woo)\nWhen she pull up, she can't go back, she gon' stop (No)\nShe ain't know what time it was 'til I bought her first clock (Rolex)\nSpend a thousand on a flock, no Wak' (Wak')\nAnd you know I'm comin' back like them boys, no Shop (Yeah)\nLoadin' up a Glock\nTake shots, I got J's on a flavor-flavor watch (Rich Gang)\nBillidybop, pull up, shootin' them buckshots (Top-notch)\nThen they watch me like a fuckin' cable box\nBitches wanna fuck me and they also want my top (Yes)\nMama told me never give tops outside the shop (No way)\nPull up on your girl, I'm lurkin' like a cop\nPussy nigga play, I beat them like I box (Hey)\nI'm the president, baby, blacker Barack ('Rack)\nThirties on the Chevy, my nigga, plus it's a box (Go)\nYou should know me and sharp shooters sponsored by Fox\nSplit that money up in eight ways like I'm a octopus (Ayy)\nOn the campus with lots of pounds, kicked out of college (What)\nAll I bleed is red, my nigga, but I'm not stoppin' shit (Red light)\nPull up to the set and I come and pay all my homage (Hey)\nHoppin' out on Bleveland, I pour up straight out the pharmacy (Hey)\nPussy nigga scared to say it, I got 'em hummin' shit (Err)\nLil' bitch, you know I'm really thuggin' like Bones-N-Harmony (Rich Gang)\nI can never (Be you)\nI'm a animal, you know I got stamina\nIf a nigga ever got robbed, bitch, I'm the manager (Ayy)\nAnd I got an African with weed over on Campbelton (Ayy)\nLil' mama, don't go, keep it stompin', I want that cameltoe (Ayy)\nPull up to the set with them sticks and have us an ammo show\nLead through the front door with that Tec, it's out the back door\nBags in this bitch, so many bags, like, \"Where the racks go?\" (Woo)\nYou might also like\nGivenchy my toes and my bros and my hoes (Rich girl)\nFor real (Givenchy)\nDon't act like you don't know when you know that you know\nFor real (Givenchy)\nEven when I'm laying down, baby, I'm keepin' it tucked\nFor real (Ba-ka-ka)\nSwear to God, when you play with just one of these bucks\nYou get killed\n\nBaby girl, would you ride for your nigga?\nWould you ride for your nigga?\nWould you die for a nigga? Hey (Would you?)\nBaby girl, would you cry for your nigga?\nWould you die for your nigga?\nWould you ride for your nigga? Hey (Would you?)\nBaby girl, what you know, what you know 'bout that?\nWhat you know 'bout th-that? You don\u2019t know nothin'\nBaby girl, what you know, what you know 'bout that?\nWhat you know 'bout that? What you know 'bout tha\u2014\n(Rich Gang)"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsWorth It Lyrics\nWe got London on the track\nGot my bae with me, you know what I'm sayin'?\n\nIf she don't get what she want she whine\nI reminisce when I get high (I'm so high)\nLooked up baby and say goodbye\nI tied my ties, she no longer cry, look you in your eyes\nTell you that\n\nI know she livin' for a nigga, dyin' for a nigga\nI whip that pussy with no ballers jumpin' out, lil' nigga\nThat pussy look just like a cut, a soakin' cut, lil' nigga (Woah)\nYeah, I'm a freak, you know I'm pullin' up to lush, lil' nigga (On Blood)\nI'd never snooze to lose, I would never snooze to lose on you\nYeah, I'ma give you a couple bands, want some more boobs on you (Want some more)\nHey, I'ma sit back and pay attention like school on you\nYeah, I'ma shoot inside that pussy like a wholly on you\nGoddamn, I'm sorry, B, I know you'd accepted my apology\nI know that ass fat, apple bottom please\nI need a deep throat baby, swallow me\nI love it when you're around baby, follow me (Follow)\nI only eat green, yeah, koala leaf\nWe shoot with big guns like a Call of D\nShe never say no, she ain't stallin' me\nI kept my heart locked up in a safe, hey\nYou can't shoot with a pistol, need a K (Ha)\nNo, you can't see it, it is tragic by your face (Ooh)\nBut when it need air, let it out in a safe lil' place\nI can see it on her face\nYou might also like\nIf she don't get what she want she whine\nI reminisce when I get high\nLooked up baby and say goodbye\nI tied my ties, she no longer cry, look you in your eyes\nTell you that, I know she worth it\nNo these ain't no drugs, I know she worth it\nYah, my mama say that she ain\u2019t perfect\nBut if this is how I'm feelin', it's gonna work\nYeah, roll me some kush I don't want no purp (hey)\n\nDamn, I broke her heart, now my heart hurt\nI don't know why but I done cut down on that syrup\nAt least I got that lil' bitch ballin', she don't gotta work\nOh-no-no, she ain't had no job, but she having purses\nYeah-yeah-yeah, she know I'm the truth, places I'm in first\nNo-no-no, I don't want you bitches, y'all basic and thirsty (Y'all soft)\nYeah-yeah, she taught me well, it took some time, but it was worth it\nShe get on top and she ride it, Kentucky derby\nYou should see, I count that money like a nerd bitch\nI'ma ball some with my dawgs but they ain't Courage\nHer whole body same color, I call it perfect\n\nSince she don't get what she want she whine\nI reminisce when I get high (Yeah)\nLooked up baby and say goodbye (Bobby Bruh)\nI tied my ties, she no longer cry, look you in your eyes\nTell you that, I know she worth it\nNo, these ain't no drugs, I know she worth it\nYah, my mama say that she ain\u2019t perfect\nBut if this is how I'm feelin', it's gonna work\nYeah, roll me some kush I don't want no purp"}
{"text":"Ayy, ayy (Dun, dun, dun)\nThis real talk type shit, I swear to God (Dun-un-un, dun, dun, dun)\nWe just gon' call this shit \"Drip,\" you know what I'm sayin'?\nAyy\n\nAyy, little bitch (Drip, Goose)\nYou ridin' niggas' dick like a bitch (Drip, Billboard Hitmakers)\nDamn, little bitch (Yeah)\nYou ridin' niggas' dick like a bitch (Yeah, Wheezy Beatz)\nI got six brand new foreigns on my wrist, ah (On my wrist)\nI got six Forgiatos on my fist, ayy (On my fist)\nI got fifty foreign hoes on my dick, ayy, uh (Yah-yah, yah-yah-yah-yah-yah)\nI'ma nut in all them hoes, let's have some chicks (Ooh), ayy\nNigga tried to hit a lick and missed (Blat)\nTried to run then I caught him like a fish (Caught his ass), ayy\nI'ma catch his ass with the whole clip (Blat, blat)\nI'ma beat they ass up like Ron Artest (Wah), ayy\nPussy nigga ran like a Miss (Hah)\nI got your bitch up underwater tryna kiss (Mwah, mwah), ayy\nI'ma gon' and shit and take a piss (Mwah, mwah), ayy\nWe done fucked her legs and fucked her face (Woo, woo), ayy\n\nCash out on that whip, I don't want no rent (I don't want no rent, yeah)\nVVSs hit off that G Star V-neck (Star V-neck, yeah-yeah)\nChop, chop the top off that Stingray Corvette (Stingray Corvette, skrrt, yeah)\nTwo bitches with me, they on molly, they on X (They on X, yeah)\nTook my foreign to the club, pulled in the VIP (Pulled in the VIP, yeah)\nTook some hoes to the hotel and made 'em strip (And made 'em strip, yeah)\nShe sucked me loose I had to give that bitch a tip (Yeah, yeah-yeah)\nI had to give that bitch a tip (Yeah)\nEverybody smashed that ho, that bitch the rip (Yeah-yeah)\nYou might also like\nI'm sellin' purple rain, R.I.P. to Prince (Prince)\nWhen I was behind the fence, they treated me like a prince (Woo)\nSo much jewelry on, her pussy gettin' tense (Burr, burr)\n1017's the ones you don't wanna diss (Nope, nope)\nAnd you can never be like 'Wop, you little snitch (You little snitch)\nYou make me mad, I have a threesome with your bitch (Ooh)\nI'm from Custer East Atlanta, yeah, the 6 (Yeah, yeah, the 6)\nI make one brick turn to two, I know a trick (Skrrt, skrrt)\nThe walking lick, my chopper is my walkin' stick (Grra, grra)\n\nEverybody got they passport ready to dip, uh\nEurope, UK, twenty-five thousand dollars on a trip (Yeah, yeah)\nI just, I just found out rats can use they lips (Yeah)\nI got, I got, I got me a thirty round clip (Pew-pew)\nI got one in the head, thirty-one rounds on my hip, ayy (Yeah, on my hip)\nOkay, Lil Dora said I was born with the skill, ayy (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nMy lawyer say it's guaranteed when he appeal (He appeal)\nI got a bad bitch wit' me, and yeah, she strip\n\nShake it (Yeah), I tip (Yeah)\nI sip (Yeah, yeah), I dip (It's lit)\nRip, I drip (Yeah)\nI killed, I...\nAll I eat is lean, la la, and pills (Oh my God)\nPut that, put that in my girl (Straight up)\nMakin' porno videos and takin' stills (Yeah)\nTurn that, turn that to a film (Drip)\nYeah, anywhere we go (Yeah)\nI bring the snow\nI fill your nose (Straight up)\nEther, howdy my mamacita (Yeah, yeah)\nStay away Lucifer (It's lit), she sexy in that all white beater (Yeah)\nDynamite no whine up (Yeah)\nHave you fly from India, have you fly from China\nI won't feel you honestly, strap up 49er\nPew, pew-pew-pew-pew-pew, pew-pew-pew-pew-pew-ka-ka\nI'm in Vegas spendin' thousands on my chips (All on chips)\nI can't love these bitches, fell in love the rip (Love the rip)\nI was, I was, I was doin' this shit just for my peers\nI, I would put inside my blood, my sweat, my tears (Sweat and tears)\nDo this shit all on my own, don't need no deal (Don't need no deal)\nDi'-diamonds flawless 'round my neck, gave me a chill (Me a chill)\nLate, lately, I've been flyin' on them Lears (On them Lears)\nFlyin' 'cross the world, these bitches killin' me\n\nAyy, flood her bank account with bands 'cause she feelin' me (Feelin' me)\nNigga, cash on delivery (Delivery)\nIf it's a snake on my clothes then it's double G\nI don't like police hoes, ain't no cuffin' me\nAll my diamonds dancin' like they Bruce Lee (Wah)\nCheck out my smile, I got some new teeth\nPop a molly now I'm in the fuckin' air\nCloud nine, nigga smokin' like the fuckin' bear\n\nWe at the Clearport, you niggas never there (Niggas never there)\nI wouldn't even cap, lil' bitch, this our year (This our year)\nI do it for my fam, twenty racks on gifts (Racks on Christmas)\nBitch, we blowin' gas, roll me up a spliff (Roll me up a spliff)\nNow, what you think a young nigga grindin' for? (What you think I'm grindin' for?)\nI sip it 'til I sleep, I might overdose (I might overdose)\nShe made it out the hood and left that dope bowl (She left that dope bowl)\nGet them bricks from my mama, she got truckloads (Huh?)\nAyy, fuck you mean you get it from your mammy, ho? Yeah (Hahaha)\nAyy, diamonds all on my chin, diamonds on my folk\nPiercin' in my nose, diamond in my nose (In my nose)\nGiuseppe open toes, diamonds on my toes (Diamonds on my toes)\nI just got a family pack of Jimmy Choos, damn\nI just bought a chopper and I'm ready to use it, damn\nI got a lot of bitches comin' by the twos\nI got a lot of bitches, bomin' by the few (Few)\n\nBig di'-diamonds but we call 'em jewels (Call 'em jewels)\nAll, all these racks, think I sell dog foods (I sell dog food)\nDrip, I spend thousand on my fuckin' shoes (Three thousand on shoes)\nPull up in this Ave, it cost the Christian Loubes (Yeah, yeah)\nNigga, watch your mouth, we ain't fuckin' cool (Fuckin' cool)\nYSL the mafia, that's a fuckin' fool (Fuckin' fools)\nTake this shit out and shoot (Grra, grra, grra)"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsAnybody Lyrics\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nSomebody called for the queen?\nOh, oh\nOoh, ooh, ooh-ooh\nOh, oh\nThugger (rrrrr)\nMmm, ayy\n\nI never killed anybody (Body)\nBut I got somethin' to do with that body (Somethin', just shh)\nI got the streets on my back (On my back)\nCarry it like I'm movin' a body (Huh)\nI told them to shoot a hundred rounds (Do-do)\nLike he tryna movie the body (Movie)\nIt was like 11 in the mornin'\nSkippin' school, that's a truancy body\nI made me some racks in the mornin'\nI had me a pack by the mornin'\nI had me some racks by the mornin'\nI had a six-pack by the mornin'\nI got on a mink, no pneumonia\nThe racks keep me up, don't need Folgers\nI had a pack in my shoulder\nYou gotta picture me rollin'\nYou might also like\nYou gotta picture me rollin'\nPacific ice, I'm an ocean (Ocean)\nReady for war like I'm Russia (Russia)\nLatest Chanel for the luggage (Luggage)\nMy diamonds they tusslin' (They tusslin')\nMy neck and my belly on 'Tussin ('Tuss)\nThey callin' for me and they rushin' (Rushin')\nYou wanna be like me and I love it (Yeah)\nHundred racks on my draws (Yeah)\nBig racks, better calm down (Yeah)\nIf you're gon' ride, come around (Yeah)\nWhole squad smokin' out the pound (Yeah)\nSquad goals on these hoes (Yeah)\nMaison Margiela my toes (Yeah)\nFarrakhan glasses for the chosen (Yeah)\nYou can go and get mad (Gon' get mad)\nJumpin' in the Bent' with the too-dark tint\nAnd who's you? (Who's you?)\nMy shawty pullin' up with a real bad bitch\nI wanna fuck you too (Fuck you too)\nDrippin' my swag, Dubai tags, I'm new\nI got a Smith & in the bag now\nI get all type of cash, I'm a general, tru (Hey)\n\nI never killed anybody (Body)\nBut I got somethin' to do with that body (Somethin', just shh)\nI got the streets on my back (On my back)\nCarry it like I'm movin' a body (Huh)\nI told them to shoot a hundred rounds (Do-do)\nLike he tryna movie the body (Movie)\nIt was like 11 in the mornin'\nSkippin' school, that's a truancy body\nI made me some racks in the mornin'\nI had me a pack by the mornin'\nI had me some racks by the mornin'\nI had a six-pack by the mornin'\nI got on a mink, no pneumonia\nThe racks keep me up, don't need Folgers\nI had a pack in my shoulder\nYou gotta picture me rollin'\nYou gotta picture me rollin', packin' a semi (Wait) colon\nReady for war like Korea, headlining shows out in Poland\nYou should be cleanin' my mansion, my place is disgustin'\nWhy don't you act like a Hoffman, and go get to dustin'?\nYeah, latex on my drawers, bitch, go clean my crown\nCan't hear my haters from way up here, they don't make a sound\nBody goals on these hoes, white paint on my toes\nWhen I send that new bae alert, niggas gon' be mad\nJumpin' in the Bent', then I switched to the Ghost like, \"Who's you?\"\nRemember this face 'cause I'm that bitch you gon' lose to\nDrippin' in the ice, fuck you lookin' at? Screw you\nIt's squad goals when all your bitches pretty like New New\n\nI never killed anybody (Body)\nBut I got somethin' to do with that body (Somethin', just shh)\nI got the streets on my back (On my back)\nCarry it like I'm movin' a body (Huh)\nI told them to shoot a hundred rounds (Do-do)\nLike he tryna movie the body (Movie)\nIt was like 11 in the mornin'\nSkippin' school, that's a truancy body\nI made me some racks in the mornin'\nI had me a pack by the mornin'\nI had me some racks by the mornin'\nI had a six-pack by the mornin'\nI got on a mink, no pneumonia\nThe racks keep me up, don't need Folgers\nI had a pack in my shoulder\nYou gotta picture me rollin'\nJumpin' in the Bent' with the too-dark tint\nAnd who's you? (Who's you?)\nMy shawty pullin' up with a real bad bitch\nI wanna fuck you too (Fuck you too)\nDrippin' my swag, ooh, pop tag, I'm (Mmhhm)\nI got a Smith & in the bag now\nI get all type of cash, I'm a general, tru (hey)\n\nEasy Breezy Beautiful Thugger Girls\nI said, Easy Breezy Beautiful Thugger Girls"}
{"text":"Mafia\nBillboard Hitmakers\nYeah, AP gang, bitch, you know what I'm sayin'?\nLevel up\nYeah, AP gang\n(Big ice)\n\nYeah, catch him down bad\nBeat him with the bat, hashtag that (Yeah)\nI copped a new Jag', yeah, yeah\nBitch, I got a blue Jag', yeah (Ha, ha)\nI make that cash talk, nigga (Bitch)\nI got a new house\nYou wanna get in, need a passcode, nigga (What?)\nTwo-twenty-five on the dashboard, nigga (Skrrt)\nStack it up and then you get that foreign, nigga\nStep it up and take care of your daughter, nigga (Ha, ha, ha)\nStack it up and take care of your son, nigga\nStep it up and take care of the money (Hey)\nYou know I ran it all up by myself\nAnd now your bitch is drinking cum, nigga (Yeah)\nMy diamonds yellow like a corn, nigga (Yeah)\nDouble R at the prom, nigga (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nGot some hitters, all of 'em my cuz, nigga (Ayy)\nGirl, I know you love me (Love me)\nI know, I know, I know you love me (You love me, hey)\nYou might also like\nBentley wheelin' nigga, bad killer nigga, back it up (Bitch, get down)\nBands kill a nigga fast, will a nigga back it up? (Tick tick tack)\nApeshit, nigga, Godzilla, nigga, act up (Ha, ha, ha)\nGo apeshit, go Godzilla, bae, back it up (Yeah)\nI just wanna have sex (Hey), I just wanna have a baby out you, girl (Hey)\nI just wanna go brazy about you, girl (Hey)\nDon't make a nigga act crazy, oh-ooh, girl (Ayy)\n'Cause you know I will, and I'm on a Perky pill (Hey)\n\nThis shit can get ugly for you (Yeah)\nI'll pull up and bust your mama (Brrat)\nI'll pull up and bust your brother (Yeah)\nI aim at your fuckin' family (Brrt)\nI aim at your whole clique (Brrt)\nI aim at your motherfuckin' mama\nI aim at your fuckin' dad (Brrt)\nI aim at your daughter, son, nigga (What?)\nI aim it at everything (Hey, pop out)\nI aim at the baby (Hey)\nI got devil inside of me (Hey)\nGot the devil inside me (What?)\nGod tryna provide me (God)\nGod tryna decide (What?)\nDo he wanna leave me or sign me? (Who that?)\nUm, okay, I know He frustrated 'bout a nigga\nAnd everything I take or do, yeah (Pablo shit)\nI know I did a lot of sins\nAnd I hope you still let me make it through, ah (Hey)\nJust 'cause I got me a spot in LA\nThat don't mean I'ma change the crew (Fuck)\nMy bitch trying to figure out\nHow she can tell me to chill without changin' you (Woo)\nFuck it, I'm changin' up on 'em (Yeah)\nBut my fans, not changin' on 'em (Yeah)\nMakin' a band, I'm sangin' on 'em (Hey)\nWhip out that bag, syringin' on 'em (Hey)\nHey, hey, we locked that bitch out with no passcode (Huh)\nI bought her some of those\nDamn, she already had 'em though\nBentley wheelin' nigga, bad killer nigga, back it up\nBands kill a nigga fast, will a nigga back it up?\nApeshit, nigga, Godzilla, nigga, act up\nGo apeshit, go Godzilla, bae, back it up\nI just wanna have sex, I just wanna have a baby out you, girl\nI just wanna go brazy about you, girl\nDon't make a nigga act crazy, oh-ooh, girl\nAyy, 'cause you know I will, and I'm on a Perky pill"}
{"text":"Pour that shit up fool, it's ours\nHa\nMonster!\nMan so you ain't gon' pour?\nOh, so you're gonna make a nigga beg you to pour?\nOkay bool, you dig?\n(Wheezy Beats)\nUh\n\nHopped out my mothafuckin' bed\nHopped in the mothafuckin' coupe (Skrrt)\nPulled up on the Birdman (Brr)\nI'm a beast, I'm a beast, I'm a mobster (Ayy)\nYou got 50 whole bands, you'll be my sponsor (Just for the night)\nThem snakes on the plane, me and Kanye-conda (Anacondas)\nYeah (Them anacondas)\nI might piece him up and let my partner smoke him (Triple cross)\nChuck-E-Cheese him up, I pizza him, I roll him (Cross)\nI'm a gangster, I don't dance, baby I poke\nRight now I'm surrounded by some gangsters from Magnolia\nI heard I put it in the spot, yessir she told me\nMy niggas muggin', these niggas YSL only\nI heard my Nolia niggas not friendly, like no way\nBut we not friendly either, you know it\nHa!\nYeah, thumbs up\nI've seen more holes than a golf course on Donald Trump's course\nMy bitch a tall blooded horse, nigga, bronco\nAnd if you catch us down bet you're not gon' trunk us (No)\nYou got a body, lil' nigga, we got a ton of 'em (Yeah)\nYou got some Robin's, lil' nigga, we got some Batmans\nI let that choppa go \"blocka, blocka,\" get back, son (Back)\nYou got them MJs, nigga, I got them Jacksons (Racks)\nYou might also like\nBut really what is it to do\nWhen the whole world constantly hatin' on you?\nPussy niggas hold their nuts, masturbatin' on you\nMeanwhile the fuckin' federal baitin' on you\nNigga tell me what you do\nWould you stand up or would you turn to a pussy nigga?\nI got a hundred things to do\nAnd I can stop rappin' but I can't stop stackin' fuckin' figures\n\nYeah, I'm from that mothafuckin' 'Nolia, nigga ('Nolia, nigga)\nBirdman'll break a nigga nose, lil' nigga (Nose, lil' nigga, ah)\nYou need to slow your fuckin' roll, lil' nigga (Roll, lil' nigga, Thugger)\nWe created Ks on shoulders, nigga (Shoulders, nigga)\nI'm a scary fuckin' sight, lil' nigga (Sight, lil' nigga, ah)\nWe won a hundred mil' on fights, lil' nigga (Fights, lil' nigga, hey)\nA hundred bands, sure you're right, lil' nigga (Right, lil' nigga)\nI keep some AKs on my flights, lil' nigga (My flights, lil' nigga, I do)\nBirdman Willie B (What?)\nSmoke some stunna blunts, now my eyes Chinese (Chinese)\nHundred K on private flights overseas (Overseas)\nChoppas City nigga, free BG (BG)\nBentley with the doors all 'round, not a Jeep (Jeep)\nRich nigga shit, smoke two pounds in a week (In a week)\nCan't find a bitch that don't know we them streets (We them streets)\nBitches know that I am Birdman, that's OG, brrat\nBut really what is it to do\nWhen the whole world constantly hatin' on you?\nPussy niggas hold their nuts, masturbatin' on you\nMeanwhile the fuckin' federal baitin' on you\nNigga tell me what you do\nWould you stand up or would you turn to a pussy nigga?\nI got a hundred things to do\nAnd I can stop rappin' but I can't stop stackin' fuckin' figures\n\nNigga, I'm a crack addict\nThought about lettin' them get a cut\nThen I went and snagged at it\nYeah, the new Boosie Badazz at it\nI'ma drop a nigga life, just like a bad habit\nI stick to the ground like a mothafuckin' rug\nI'm a big dog, lil' fuck nigga, you a pup\nLil' bitch, clean your drawers before you think you're a thug\nBefore I be in front your shows, just like your pub\nI ain't even lyin', baby\nI swear to God I ain't lyin', baby, no\nFirst I'll screw you without these pliers, baby, or\nI might dap you like, \"good try, baby\"\nBig B livin', baby\nThem boys on my left throwin' up Cs\nI promise their mama see them this week\nAnd I don't break promises with my Ds (Them my dogs)\nI want Ms and cheese, mister Mickey Ds\nShe know I am a beast, I am so obese (Rrar)\nIn Miami I swear they don't got good weed\nWiz Khalifa can you send me some weed please?\nYeah, overseas, nigga, top floor, clear windows, nigga\nGlass house, drankin' GT, you understand?\nWe in that Red Light District, you understand?\nWe 3 and 1, that mean 3 on me, nigga, you understand me?\nJust livin' the life, boy, ayy, Thug, just a dollar for a 1, nigga\nWe can blow a mil', boy\nRich Gang, YSL, blatt!"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsTake Kare Lyrics\n(Take care of her)\nNow\nYoung Moo\u2013, Young Moolah, baby\n(Take care of her)\nYoung Moo\u2013, Young Moolah, baby\n(Take care of her)\nRich Gang\n(Take care of her)\nWe got London on da Track\nHey!\n\nBoolin' at the basketball game (Boolin')\nDressed in Balmain (Fresh)\nDropped a hundred on the whole thing (And what?)\nInside cost a whole thing (And what?)\nAnd I'ma give you my all, first my whole name (Oof)\nI'm in her mouth just like Colgate (Ahh)\nI'm really feelin' super, like eight (Whew)\nAyy, hey (Hey)\nLike or hate, ladies man like bait (Woo)\nHop inside a Bentley with a red paper plate\nEvery time they hate, I throw them bands like a bouquet (Woo)\nI ain't Ray J but you can be my Kim K (K)\nFeelin' like Lil Flip, in love with green, don't look gay (Ooh)\nI'll never believe what Lil' Kim say (Ooh)\nWater like Phelps and you can jump in my league (Hey)\nRun into my head like a deer when it's late (Gah)\nMan, everywhere she go, she ballin' (Boy)\nYeah she got Xans, she like, \"Where Tar at?\" (Geek)\nShe don't gangbang, she say she bang gangs (Bang)\nAnd she'll fight, might knock 'em out the ring (Bang)\nOut of cold Pepsi, she'll whip it like a waiter (Woo)\nI just wanna nut, she say that's easy like a baker (Woo)\nShe just want a nigga, I don't serve but I love maple (Woo!)\nAnd therefore she gon' watch me like cable, ayy (Hey)\nYou might also like\nTake care of her!\nIf, if I don't do nothin' in the world, swear to God I'll take care of her (And what?)\nTake care of lil' mama, take care of baby mama (And what?)\nTake care of her (And what?)\nTake care of her, take care of her (And what?)\nTake care of her (And what? And what? And what?)\nOoh-aah (Woo!)\n\nOn a million, goin' to meet a billion (Chasin', chasin' racks!)\nBrand new Bentley, you could keep the ceiling (Skrrt skrrt, woo)\n(Rich Gang) Ooh! (Ahh!)\nTake a trip to Peru\nBaby suck my dog like Snoop (Hey)\nBlood gang, big ups, suwoo (Blatt)\nDinosaur bankroll, woo, woo (Big racks)\nH&M ballin',  hundred ten (Ahh, ahh!)\nThrow my boy 6, bim bim (Ahh, ahh!)\nBaby keep that pussy (Ahh, ahh, ahh!)\nBaby keep that pussy clean trimmed (Woah)\nBought a castle with my last deal (Woah)\nBoy don't talk about no fast deal (Ahh)\nLil' nigga, you late (What?)\nOkay (Get it)\nI'ma put the pedal to the Wraith (Skrrt)\nI'ma pull the pedal, not the brake (What)\nIce inside my ring, you can skate (Skate)\nYeah, this shit cold like a case (Nigga, what?)\nThat a nigga went and snitched, dealing with (Ooh, ooh)\nAll these mothafuckin' bitches (Main bitch)\nI'm the shit, girl, I'm the shit (Grr)\nI'ma build a hole for a snitch, not a ditch, shit\n(Moolah, Moolah)\nThey be hatin' on my girl, though\nAnd they wish they was the bitch they hatin'\nSalutations to my old hoes\nAnd thank you for your participation\nNo chaser for my girl, though (Rich girl)\nShe go harder than me on occasion\nGettin' wasted with my girl\nThen we sixty-nine 'til we need ventilation\nYou don't know about it\nGotta open new accounts 'cause the others overcrowded\nGotta open up the stores when they're closed when we shoppin'\nFor my girl, wear the clothes that ain't nobody rockin'\nShe so bad, I don't know what to do with her\nI know just what to do in her\nMy homies hit me up, they said they're goin' out tonight\nI said, \"I'm with my girl tonight, I can't fuck with you niggas\"\nI'ma take care of her\n\n(Aah!)\nRich Gang\nDon't get scared now, pussy nigga\nAyy\nTake care of her! (Her, I'ma take care of her)\nIf, if I don't do nothin' in the world, swear to God I'll take care of her (Yeah, I'ma take care of her)\nTake care of lil' mama, take care of baby mama (Take care of baby mama)\nTake care of her (Take care of lil' mama)\nTake care of her (Take care of my mama), take care of her (I'ma take care of baby mama)\nTake care of her (Take care of lil' mama, take care of my mama)\nOoh-aah!\n\nYoung Moo\u2013, Young Moolah, baby\nRich Gang"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsFeel It Lyrics\nWheezy\n\nI want that pussy in a Wraith\nI'ma make sure lil mama feel it\nEvery eyeball that look at me, she wanna kill it (On spot)\nWe make love, and it hot just like a skillet (Woo, woo)\nI don't wanna buy your love, I wanna build it\n(Yeah, oh...) Build that bitch up from the ground, never gon' tear that bitch down\n(Yeah, oh...) Yeah, you know that this dick ain't no clown, you know this dick make you make sounds, swea (Yeah)\n(Ohh, oh...) I fuck that bitch good, I don't tease her, nigga, that's why she not leavin' (And what?)\n(Ohh, oh...) And you know that I smoke on that kush, no Khalifa, and I do it for my people (I swear)\nYeah, I never ever met a girl like you (What?)\nI'm lovin' every single curve about you\nOoh, you know I would smoke the whole world 'bout you\nPut on my suit, go get my boots, I'll go to jail 'bout you (Let's go)\nYou know who you with, lil baby, stop playin', darlin', you know who you with (You know who you with)\nMan, I'm so for real, I copped you a coupe baby, I'ma chauffeur it (Skrrt, skrrt)\nMan, I'm so for real, these niggas be talkin', we bust it so for real (For real)\nI'm so geeked up on your lovin', I don't need no Mollies, so for real (For real)\nBehind closed doors it gets drastic (Hey)\nPussy wet, I done worked magic (Yeah)\nI am the truth so don't answer (Yeah)\nI shoot FNs and they plastic (What?)\nYeah, I only call lil mama baby when she say daddy (And what?)\nYou might also like\nIf that's your man, you better hold him down\nMarriage she wrote\nShe held my little pack, she was wit' it\nAnd she was popular way before me\nNow that I'm popular, I'ma still be the old me\n\n(Yeah, oh...) I swear to God she wanna feel it\n(Yeah, oh...) When I do wrong, bae make me feel it\n(Ohh, oh...) I only get it when I feel it\n(Ohh, oh...) Yeah, yeah\n\nMake me feel it, make me feel it (Yeah)\nMake me feel it, make me feel it (Hey)\nOh, I wan' feel it, I wan' feel it (Yeah)\nI wan' feel it, I wan' feel it (Hey)\nBaby, I'll give you head, give me ceilings (Woo)\nCome here bae, I'm appealin' (Woo)\nI'm locked down, all metal (Hey)\nHorseshoe, True Religion (Woah, Thugger)\nI'm dabbin', I'm dabbin'\nI'll hop in your car, and I'll smash it, I'll smash it (Skrrt)\nI'm buyin' gold Rollies, yeah I'm Trinidad-in' (Yeah)\nThey look like they don't wanna fuck, but they actin' (Woo)\nI'm pourin' up purple, that purple, yeah, Actavis (Lean, lean, lean)\nAnd I think I'm tough, you look tough, so let's clash it (Let's clash, let's clash)\nWar ready, I'm goin' steady (Hey)\nI fuck with Keshia, not the one from Belly (Woah)\nI wanna fuck and not talk and I said it (What?)\nI want that cat like a leopard (Grrrr)\nLet's go to Germany, no Shepherd (Woah)\nShe don't need no hand, I'ma help her\nShe barely keep it, so I kept her\nWatch me tell her\nIf that's your man, you better hold him down\nMarriage she wrote\nShe held my little pack, she was wit' it\nAnd she was popular way before me\nNow that I'm popular, I'ma still be the old me\n\n(Yeah, oh...) I swear to God she wanna feel it\n(Yeah, oh...) When I do wrong, bae make me feel it\n(Ohh, oh...) I only get it when I feel it\n(Ohh, oh...) Yeah\n\nYeah, oh...\nYeah, oh...\nOhh, oh...\nOhh, oh...\n(Yeah, oh...) I swear to God she wanna feel it\n(Yeah, oh...) When I do wrong, bae make me feel it\n(Ohh, oh...) I only get it when I feel it\n(Ohh, oh...) Yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsBad Bad Bad Lyrics\nWheezy outta here\n\nRose gold seats on a fuckin' helicopter\nDouble C, no Chanel, 'cause she bad, bad, bad\nRidin' Kawasaki, and I could cop you a new 'Rari\nLet you ride it, know your route and you're bad, bad, bad\nNo playin', no Atari, I won't play with you for nothin'\nI can eat you like Hibachi 'cause you bad, bad, bad\nI just took the doors off the 'Ghini, now I'm ridin'\nAnd I'm slidin' in her sideways, now she call me her zaddy\n\nRich nigga shit, I bought my thottie a new Patek\nGot a model, got a thickie, got a BM, got a stallion\nGot a billion dollar corporation, fuck a Xanny\nI got millions to go get and a couple bitches to\u2013uh, yeah\nYou my dawg 'til we dead, not a question\nBut I can't fuck with you like I want 'cause you ratted\nGot a million dollars in the wall, in the band'\nAnd got it stepped-on, got it hard, got it crackin' on her\nHalf a million, I just did a warm up for half a million, uh, uh, mmm\nI can buy the buildin'\nI can rent this shit out or save it for the children\nI can dead this shit out or give it to the villains\nSomewhere they can hide when they do some killin'\nAll of the rides got grenade ceilings\nLoaded with a ride, cost a cool million\nYou might also like\nRose gold seats on a fuckin' helicopter\nDouble C, no Chanel, 'cause she bad, bad, bad\nRidin' Kawasaki, and I could cop you a new 'Rari\nLet you ride it, know your route and you're bad, bad, bad\nNo playin', no Atari, I won't play with you for nothin'\nI can eat you like Hibachi 'cause you bad, bad, bad\nI just took the doors off the 'Ghini, now I'm ridin'\nAnd I'm slidin' in her sideways, now she call me her zaddy\n\nPaper tag, peanut butter seats, I'm ridin'\nI be in the foreign, fuck with slime, we tied in (Slatt)\nDifferent color Diors on my feet, I couldn't decide which\nNever talked about it, she done made herself my side bitch\nTrash bag gang, I can put that on Elijah\nStreet chose me, I ain't never had to sign up\nThen we hittin' bitches in the group, I make 'em line up\nBeep, beep, beep, that's me, nigga, get back\nReal dopeboy, don't know how to work a CashApp\nHow many you got? I'll send it 'lone, bring the cash out\nI been sippin' lean, 'bout to pee 'til I pass out\nWent to sleep 'partment, woke up in the paradise\nNiggas stealin' drip but it don't matter, they don't wear it right\nThey don't even speak but I can see I got 'em terrified\nDouble R truck, come through, shit on everybody\nBad, bad, bitch, good head, hit her every night\nRose gold seats on a fuckin' helicopter\nDouble C, no Chanel, 'cause she bad, bad, bad\nRidin' Kawasaki, and I could cop you a new 'Rari\nLet you ride it, know your route and you're bad, bad, bad\nNo playin', no Atari, I won't play with you for nothin'\nI can eat you like Hibachi 'cause you bad, bad, bad\nI just took the doors off the 'Ghini, now I'm ridin'\nAnd I'm slidin' in her sideways, now she call me her zaddy\n\nTake the four doors off of the Jeep (Bad, bad, bad)\nI ain't doin' no swaps with a freak, uh (Bad, bad, bad)\nWe can handle this shit out in the streets, yeah (Bad, bad, bad)\nI ain't goin' to a house for a meetin', yeah (Bad, bad, bad)\nPull up in a truck, any season\nNiggas never comin' out, then we leavin'\nHow could nigga take a loss if he leavin'?\nQuickly take off like I'm LeBron"}
{"text":"Yeah, what up? (Ooh)\nI'm tryna put my dick inside of your panties, yeah (Ooh)\nYou bet' not take this shit for granted\n\nI'm at Rolling Loud, right there rolling out\nSmokin' Backwoods and holdin' bae\n(Wheezy Beats)\nI was gettin' protected by my savages\nYellow school buses, that's a Xanny\nCausin' me to sleep and I ain't plan it (Yeehaw)\nI got some jobs all day (Jobs all day, yeah)\nRoll out the jar all day (All day)\nI be on Mars all day (All day, yeah)\nI'm with the stars all day, uh (All day)\nBoss all day (Boss all day, yeah)\nRoll up the raw all day (All day)\nBabysit your dog all day (All day, yeah)\n'Bout to watch you jog all day\n\nLike family don't matter (Oh, oh)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh, oh, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, woah, woah, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, oh, oh, oh, hmm)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh)\nYou might also like\nBagged a bad bitch, I got a foreign son\nTommy gun, found a real Tommy gun\nI dropped a milli' on my chain like I know Barry Bonds\nAnd I got a head full of hair like I'm from Amazon, uh\nGlaze that ass like a candle honey, uh\nFerragamo shower shoes for me, uh\nLightbulb, neck got jewels on it, uh\nLike an old school, I got some pull, don't I?\nHuh?\nSayin', abracadabra\nAbracadabra, kill all you bastards\nI don't want no wrassle\nThe bread ambassador\nNo nothin' else matter to him\nI'm ballin' like Patrick Ewing\nTurn up on you bastards\nI'm in a Ghost like Casper\nEverything go smooth for me like I got my Masters\nFubu Platinum up, birds in the Acura\nAlbums platinum and up, I'm killin' these bastards\n\nLike family don't matter (Oh, oh)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh, oh, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, woah, woah, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, oh, oh, oh, hmm)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh)\nCountry Billy made a couple milli'\nTryna park the Rolls Royce inside the Piccadilly\nOh, he had a couple stripes actually (Of course)\nGot another half a milli' in white tees, of course (Don't you panic)\nDon't you take this shit for granted, don't you panic\nWhen I put my D in your pants, don't you panic\nWhen I catch up with your bitch, you know I'm smashin'\nI can put her on her feet, oh, oh head gasket\nYou gotta tell me what's wrong\nI can't wait to deep stroke to the mornin'\n'Bout to put my dick in your mouth right when you yawn\nYou gotta put that puss' on my lips whenever I'm on one\nI thank the red doll, so I whip my bum bum\nI'm 'bout to fuck somebody girl off this rum, rum (Go 'head)\nI'm chasin' all of these rats like I was Tom, yeah\nBut it ain't even matter, I was tryna kill these bastards\n\nLike family don't matter (Oh, oh)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh, oh, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, woah, woah, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, oh, oh, oh, hmm)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh, oh, oh)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh, oh, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, woah, woah, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, oh, oh, oh, hmmm...)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh)\n(Ooo, baby)\nRollin' through the W6 (Ooh, nana nana)\nYou feelin' me, I'm feelin' you (I'm feelin' you)\nFallin' deep, too deep, purple dreams to catch myself (To catch myself, yeah)\nI be havin' nightmares shaped like you (Havin' nightmares)\nYou be blowin' smoke clouds shaped like me (You be blowin' smoke clouds)\nI be havin' nightmares shaped like you (I be havin' nightmares)\nYou be blowin' smoke clouds shaped like me (I just thought that you should know)\nTwo cups, can I drown in my mind, too? (Can I drown in my mind?)\nHear the track, spin it back, catch a vibe, too (Ooh, baby)\nThis the shit that be bad, so bad it's good for you, ayy (I just thought that you should know)\nTake a hit, we can sip like it's medicine\nChemistry, remedy, there's no better than\nThis the shit that be bad, so bad it's good for you, hey (So bad)\n\nLike family don't matter (Oh, oh)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh, oh, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, woah, woah, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, oh, oh, oh, hmm)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh, oh, oh)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh, ooh, what's the deal? Oh, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, woah, what's poppin', what's the deal? Woah, woah)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Woah, oh, what's poppin'? Oh, oh, hmm)\nWhat's poppin', what's the deal? (Oh, oh)\nMy heart so cold, I need a icebox\nMy heart so cold, I need a icebox\nIcebox Jewelry\nI need help, come and rescue me"}
{"text":"99 ContributorsYou Said Lyrics\nSo what's up with all that goddamn tough talk you had earlier on the phone, you know what I'm saying?\nWhen you said you was gon' goddamn do this and that to me when you saw me?  (Freaky-deeky)\nWhere all that at? Oh, I thought so\nYou got high a level of confidence, you know what I'm saying\n(Wheezy Beats)\n\nYou said you gon' fuck me to death when you see me\nYou said that, you said that (You said that)\nYou said you gon' do me the worst\nI remember you right when you said that (I remember you)\nYou said you gon' kiss from my neck to my chest\nTo my navel and dick and nuts (You said all that)\nWe talked about everything\nThen you know that we got us some making up (Ooh)\nI lick on that puss on a pill\nAnd I make her stand up like some bunny ears (Bunny ears)\nI bite on her butt and I suck on her toes\nAnd her soul go outta here (Go outta here)\nShe look at him like he roadkill and I turned 'round her life\nLike I'm Dr. Phil (Dr. Phil)\nLet's get freaky deeky 'round here\n\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (I need you to say now)\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (I want you to say now)\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (I want you to say now)\nI want you to say now\nSay now (Jeffery!), ooh, ooh, ooh\nYou might also like\nI got the door unlocked\nAnd I know right now she'd rather have my dick than a watch (Facts)\nAnd I'm not right about everything\nBut I got a strong feeling she'll take me a charge if we run into the narcs\nAnd I'm seeing all your emotions, came a long way from roaches\nUnwrap the birds, get to rolling\nI ain't never needed nothing brodie\nAll four pockets, macaroni\nRose-gold AP like a token (Token)\nBought that bitch a mink, now she cozy\nRather go to jail, I ain't told 'em (Yeah)\nI get excited when I see you (Excited)\nI'd rather freeze up and get shy when I see you\nI'm daydreaming and I\u2019m steady just strappin' our child in the rearview (Ayy)\nIf you a cool one you a real one\nLet's go to Africa, to the Pilgrim (Ayy)\n\nYou said you gon' fuck me to death when you see me\nYou said that, you said that (You said that)\nYou said you gon' do me the worst\nI remember you right when you said that (I remember you)\nYou said you gon' kiss from my neck to my chest\nTo my navel and dick and nuts (Dick and nuts)\nWe talked about everything\nThen you know that we got us some making up (Ooh) (Wheezy Beatz)\nI lick on that puss on a pill\nAnd I make her stand up like some bunny ears\nI bite on her butt and I suck on her toes\nAnd her soul go outta here\nShe look at him like he roadkill and I turned 'round her life\nLike I'm Dr. Phil (Dr. Phil)\nLet's get freaky deeky 'round here\nWheezy Beatz\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (Say now)\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (I want you to)\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (I want you to)\nSay now (Say now, yeah), ooh, ooh, ooh, ayy\nWheezy Beatz\n\nLast week she told me we ain't gon' make it past this day (Last week)\nWe in my house, she wanted me to leave, but where am I gonna stay?\nShe hid the keys in the attic, she even tried to hide my Patek (Keys)\nPlease stop being petty, I don't want no more spaghetti\nMy side bitch in the driveway, yeah\nWaiting on you to leave, bae, yeah\nYou gotta know, yeah, the time changed\nI don't know what's on your mind frame\nBut I gotta go and gangbang\nThe streets mine so I switch lanes\nYou said \"I won't change\" (Won't change)\nYou said \"I won't change\" (Won't change)\nI regret I put you up on game (Regret it)\nI regret I told your mama \"Life would change\" (Momma)\nYeah, out of all the cash, I put on her (Cash)\nOut of all the bags, I put on her (All the bags)\nAnd I said I don't brag, I don't boast\nSince you popped the tags, I don't want 'em\nAnd my niggas they been placed the vote (Vote)\nBut you needed to get off the boat (Boat)\nI can't blame it on me I said \"No\" (No)\nGot her head so big it explode (Explode)\nYou said you gon' fuck me to death when you see me\nYou said that, you said that\nYou said you gon' do me the worst\nI remember you right when you said that (Remember you)\nYou said you gon' kiss from my neck to my chest\nTo my navel and dick and nuts (Ooh)\nWe talked about everything\nThen you know that we got us some making up\nI lick on that puss on a pill\nAnd I make her stand up like some bunny ears (Some bunny ears)\nI bite on her butt and I suck on her toes\nAnd her soul go outta here (Outta here)\nShe look at him like he roadkill and I turned 'round her life\nLike I'm Dr. Phil\nLet's get freaky deeky 'round here\n\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (Say now)\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (I want you to)\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (I want you to)\nSay now (Say now), ooh, ooh, ooh, yeah\n\nLet's make our last toast (Jeffery)\nShe gets the last gulp (She gets the last gulp)\nI got some Actavis yeah, I want the last dose\nI got a good cash flow (I got a good cash flow)\nBut I don't want the fast dough (Don't want the fast dough)\nYoung Thugger got filthy rich, I came right out the rat-hole (Facts)\nI smoked a whole leaf, I'm drinking codeine\nI want some head and knees\nI don't want no teeth (I don't want finna teeth)\nI should've called off (Should've called off)\nI'm 'bout to OD\nIn her mouth like a golf ball (In her whole mouth)\nMy two homies\nBack it up on me, I make her squirt on the couch, eww (Eww)\nPrivate party, only broads here (Private party)\nWe pass forty caps, no beers (Got the forty capsule)\nEvery diamond on me crystal clear\nMolly on me, baby, take it off of me (Off of me)\nCAT scan, white stuff on my jeans (Lap dance)\nHit it from the back, loosen up her spleen (Ayy)\nSay you mine, I'ma take it off and raw dog\n\nYou said you gon' fuck me to death when you see me\nYou said that, you said that\nYou said you gon' do me the worst\nI remember you right when you said that\nYou said you gon' kiss from my neck to my chest\nTo my navel and dick and nuts\nWe talked about everything\nThen you know that we got us some making up\nI lick on that puss on a pill\nAnd I make her stand up like some bunny ears (Some bunny ears)\nI bite on her butt and I suck on her toes\nAnd her soul go outta here (Outta here)\nShe look at him like he roadkill and I turned 'round her life\nLike I'm Dr. Phil\nLet's get freaky deaky around here\n\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (Say now)\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (I want you to)\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh (I want you to)\nSay now, ooh, ooh, ooh\nYeah, hey, hey"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsF Cancer (Boosie) Lyrics\nAyy, fuck cancer, shout out to Boosie (Ear Drummers)\nI fuck your main bitch, I gave her cooties (Mike WiLL Made-It)\nSlime Season, hey\n\nGet it, all my niggas, yeah, they with it (Woah)\n'Cause these pussy niggas hatin' (Yeah)\nThey trying to knock me off my pivot (Woah, hey)\nI'm a boss, I call the shots (Woah)\nI leave these pussy niggas missing\nAnd I'm whipping like I'm gifted (Sheesh)\nYou can catch me in the kitchen, hey (Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo)\nI don't want no brown, I want a syrup bottle (Syrup bottle)\nI put it down and then she started stalking (She started looking for me)\nPop all the Perky, yeah, a halftime (Halftime)\nLil' mama pussy soaking, yeah, it's bath time (Bath time)\n\nI put a nine inside a two-liter (Two-liter)\nI'ma send it right back because I know you need it (I know you need that)\nStop all that fake shit, I show all my people (What?)\nShout out to rasta niggas, those my people (Zoes)\nI put down my strap and used these hands, they evil\nTried to be loyal to these foreigns, but I am a cheater (Damn)\nGot, got a lot of followers, a perfect leader (Swear)\nI like it icy 'cause I'm not a cheap one, yeah\nBabe make your booty roll (Roll)\nI got a lot of hundreds, I wan' see that tootsie roll\nI got a lot of partners, Falcons like I'm Julio (Brrt)\nWe done got drunk inside this bitch, I'm Don Julio\nWe tryna get wet from these bitches, so what you cruising for (Skrrt)\nMy family depend on me, that's who I do it for (Swear)\nOf course I do it for my bitch and for my crew for sure (I promise)\nI do it for my jeweler, my ice off a fucking boat (Sheesh)\nYou know the routine, lil' bitch, I'm private (What?)\nLil' bitch, I'm hot (Hot), like I'm a Taki (Yeah)\nI knock it out, pussy, just like I'm Rocky\nI got a bunch of wings surrounding my body (Brrt)\nYou might also like\nGet it, all my niggas, yeah, they with it (Woah)\n'Cause these pussy niggas hatin' (Yeah)\nThey trying to knock me off my pivot (Woah, hey)\nI'm a boss, I call the shots (Woah)\nI leave these pussy niggas missing\nAnd I'm whipping like I'm gifted (Sheesh)\nYou can catch me in the kitchen, hey (Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo)\nI don't want no brown, I want a syrup bottle (Syrup bottle)\nI put it down and then she started stalking (She started looking for me)\nPop all the Perky, yeah, a halftime (Halftime)\nLil' mama pussy soaking, yeah, it's bath time (Bath time)\n\nOkay, it's bath time (Brrt), just like a birdie (Thugger)\nI cop a foreign (Skrrt), I pull off skrrting (Skrrt)\nBitch, is you worth it? (Is you worth it?) You make me nervous (Nervous)\nYou rock them Chrome Hearts (What?), you looking nerdy (Oh my God)\nThis ain't no fish n' grits (No way), but this that fishscale (Woo-woo)\nI let little mama be, I keep her good and well (I promise)\nBitch, I'm a OG (OG), I don't play that tattletale (Shh)\nBy the time you just be out (What?), I'ma be done made bail (I swear)\nI smoke that cookie dough, I drink that Actavis (I drink lean)\nMy life a video (And what?), I'ma let you caption it (What you say?)\nEnergizer Bunny (What?), you see these carats, ho (I see 'em)\nI'm Rey Mysterio (Yeah), my life on HBO (I swear)\nThey didn't want me for none' (They didn't want me)\nNow they want to suck some, and fuck some (Yeah)\nYSL ain't gon' cuff 'em, we fucks 'em (And what?)\nAnd then we go and do another one (Woo, woo, woo)\nYeah, we go and do another one, son (One, son)\nI got my gun, you better run, run, run (Run, run)\nYou know I got bread like a croissant, son (Croissant)\nI get 'em stuck up for a honey bun, yeah, yeah\n(Woah, woah, woah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n(Quavo!)\nI put ice in all my watches, came in in Versace (Ice)\nPerky, gas, molly, trappin', we got plenty options (Trap)\nHer pussy water like it's bath time, she wishy washy (Splash)\nAnd she gon' suck and fuck me even when the feds watching (Oh)\nI don't fuck with broke niggas, nah, we can't relate (No, no)\nI put water on that white bitch, I call her Ricki Lake (Ricki)\nLil' mama she lost in the sauce\nShe needa get hit with the pause (Lost in the sauce)\nAfter I fuck her she run through the dawgs\nAnd then I'm rejecting her calls (Brrt, brrt)\nI threw a pack over the gate to my niggas 'hind the wall (Yeah)\nR.I.P. Pistol, R.I.P. Mike, I pour out the lean for y'all (R.I.P.)\nRemember the days I trapped out the bando\nI had a thousand dollars (Never got Ms)\nYou the same nigga that said I wouldn't make it\nI put in a thousand hours (I got a thousand pounds), ayy\n\nGet it, all my niggas, yeah, they with it (Woah)\n'Cause these pussy niggas hatin' (Yeah)\nThey trying to knock me off my pivot (Woah, hey)\nI'm a boss, I call the shots (Woah)\nI leave these pussy niggas missing\nAnd I'm whipping like I'm gifted (Sheesh)\nYou can catch me in the kitchen, hey (Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo)\nI don't want no brown, I want a syrup bottle (Syrup bottle)\nI put it down and then she started stalking (She started looking for me)\nPop all the Perky, yeah, a halftime (Halftime)\nLil' mama pussy soaking, yeah, it's bath time (Bath time)\nSplit this Perc' with me, lil' bitch, you know it's halftime\nShe wetter than an ocean, yeah, it's bath time\nLittle bitch gon' bring me back some dollar signs\nAnd I'ma let you ride her like a Pathfinder (Yep)"}
{"text":"99 ContributorsKanye West Lyrics\nWet-wet\nJeffery, 'longside Wyclef\nNigga, bet that (Thugger)\nMan, you can bet that\nAnd the girls love the Shotta boys with them big toys, yeah\nAnybody card, nigga, I got it now, now\nShe was too wet-wet\nSwear to God I ain't lyin', yeah\nNigga, you can't do that, yeah\n(That boy Cassius)\n(Wheezy Beats)\n\nBet it all, bet it all (Bet)\nShe pulled up in a Benz truck\nChanel it up, Chanel it up (Yeah)\nShe peacock with the colors (Oh)\nMiddle finger, stick it up (Yeah)\nIf you ain't never gave a fuck (Fuck!)\nGet behind her, put it in her butt\nThen beat it up\n\nWamp-wamp, she, wet-wet (Mr. Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, nigga, bet that, ayy (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, ayy (Jeffery, ohh)\nWamp-wamp, oh, wet-wet (Mr. Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, nigga, bet that (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, oh, I'ma get you wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery, oh)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she should bet that (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nLil' mama should bet that\nWet-wet, ayy, bet that\nWamp-wamp, oh, wet-wet (Jeffery)\nBet that, lil' mama, wet-wet (Thugger)\nYou might also like\nBet that cause I'm 75% that lil' mama got some wet-wet (Wet)\nPssh, it's wet-wet now she squirt it on the bed\nSquirt on me and left a fuckin' mess (What!)\nUh, I'm a vet but I'm ready to settle down\nI don't wanna know what's next, oh\nIt don't matter what I do tonight\nCause I'ma know you the best-best-best, yes (Best, you the best)\nI'ma stand up like the cash talk to you baby (Ayy)\nYou can rest I\u2019ll let the bands walk to you baby (Hey)\nYeah fashion walk to you, ayy (Uh)\nHundred Xans' crushed up, talk to you baby (Hee-hee-hee)\nI ain't never playin', you the main baby (Hey)\nWhen I die, I'ma leave somethin' for you baby (Swear)\nGot an anniversary planned baby\n\nBet it all, bet it all (Bet)\nShe pulled up in a Benz truck\nChanel it up, Chanel it up (Yeah)\nShe peacock with the colors (Oh)\nMiddle finger, stick it up (Yeah)\nIf you ain't never gave a fuck (Fuck!)\nGet behind her, put it in her butt\nThen beat it up\nWamp-wamp, she, wet-wet (Mr. Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, nigga, bet that, ayy (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, ayy (Jeffery, ohh)\nWamp-wamp, oh, wet-wet (Mr. Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, nigga, bet that (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, oh, I'ma get you wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery, oh)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she should bet that (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nLil' mama should bet that\nWet-wet, ayy, bet that\nWamp-wamp, oh, wet-wet (Jeffery)\nBet that, lil' mama, wet-wet (Thugger)\n\nJeffery, be easy\nAfter sex she gon' wanna get married\nSeen many men on Maury\nClaimin' \"the kid ain't my baby\"\nBut taste the cake, I gotta have her\nShower to the big red sofa chair\nPlay truth or dare\nJumpin' in the pool with no swimwear gear\nYou keep me 'ware lookin' like a peacock\nEverytime we press she be rooster\nFeelin' like the big block time shift\nNumber one Haitian, she in love with the voodoo sex (Yeah)\nFlippin' on the mat yo (Ooh)\nLike Olympians in Rio, oh\nBlast off like the rocket man, piano (Yep)\nScream so loud, dolphins hear the signal\nBet it all, bet it all (Bet)\nShe pulled up in a Benz truck\nChanel it up, Chanel it up (Hey)\nShe peacock with the colors (Oh)\nMiddle finger, stick it up (Hey, yeah)\nIf you ain't never gave a fuck (Fuck, yeah)\nGet behind her, put it in her butt\nThen beat it up\n\nWamp-wamp, she, wet-wet (Mr. Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, nigga, bet that, ayy (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, ayy (Jeffery, ohh)\nWamp-wamp, oh, wet-wet (Mr. Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, nigga, bet that (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, oh, I'ma get you wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery, oh)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she should bet that (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nLil' mama should bet that\nWet-wet, ayy, bet that\nWamp-wamp, oh, wet-wet (Jeffery)\nBet that, lil' mama, wet-wet (Thugger)\n\nBet it up, yeah yeah, bet it up, yeah\nWhen I fuck it I'ma fuckin' fuck it up yeah\nI ain't pillow talking, ain't tryna get stuck with\nA fat bitch, fuck around and be your luck\nGood problem, you can't never and you stuck with it\nGirl I see you tryna inchy inchy up with me\nLong as you operate your own motherfucking business\nI'ma make sure that you never go without, get it\nFat bone that she feel on\nGood eyes, you can't do wrong\nGood feet looking unique\nPockets fat like Monique\nGot a trophy with the Rollie\nNow she acting like she owe me, owe me\nYeah, you don't ever ever owe me\nGood luck like a four leaf, four leaf\n\nBet it all, bet it all\nShe pulled up in a Benz truck\nChanel it up, Chanel it up\nShe peacock wit the colors\nMiddle finger, stick it up\nIf you ain't never gave a fuck\nGet behind her, put it in her butt\nThen beat it up\n\nWamp-wamp, she, wet-wet (Mr. Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, nigga, bet that, ayy (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, ayy (Jeffery, ohh)\nWamp-wamp, oh, wet-wet (Mr. Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, nigga, bet that (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, oh, I'ma get you wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery, oh)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she should bet that (Jeffery)\nWamp-wamp, lil' mama, she wet-wet (Jeffery)\nLil' mama should bet that\nWet-wet, ayy, bet that\nWamp-wamp, oh, wet-wet (Jeffery)\nBet that, lil' mama, wet-wet (Thugger)"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easClimax Lyrics\nYou said no interest (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nSaid you found a better climax (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nYou said he's swagged out (Tsh-tsh-ah), you leave (Tsh-tsh-tsh)\nIt's like a shot to the back (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nThrough the nose of a barrel (Tsh-tsh-tsh)\nFor you don't want to go (Tsh-tsh)\nBut leave, like it's nothing (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nYou said no interest, said you found a better climax\nYou said he's swagged out, you leave\nIt's like a shot to the back\nThrough the nose of a barrel\nFor you don't want to go\nBut leave, like it's nothing\n(We got London On Da Track)\n\nI just be watching my words (Words)\nYou say whatever the fuck (Fuck)\nI think I take what I get (Get)\nAnd say whatever they love (Love)\nThis might hurt for days\nNow I can't find my way (Aye)\nSike, know I'm just playin'\nOnto the next like I'm okay\nAyy, this a pimpin' can't you tell? (Tell)\nShe like, \"No I can't, what the hell?\" (Hell)\nI done put little baby in a spell\nCame out new hair, new nails\nShe take my heart then drive back\nOne, two, three, four, five, damn (Yeah)\nDeletin' pictures on the 'Gram\nYou forgot who I am\nFrom the frontseats to the nosebleeds\nThat's for actin' like you don't know me\nDamn, my new bitch, she a trophy\nAnd she love me for the old me\nYeah, the cold me, yeah, the old me (Old me, yeah)\nShe the homie, cop her a rollie (Rollie, yeah, yeah)\nYou might also like\nYou said no interest (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nSaid you found a better climax (Sh-tsh-ah)\nYou said he's swagged out (Tsh-tsh-ah), you leave (Tsh-tsh-tsh)\nIt's like a shot to the back (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nThrough the nose of a barrel (Tsh-tsh-tsh)\nFor you don't want to go (Tsh-tsh)\nBut leave, like it's nothing (Tsh-tsh-ah)\n\nHu-uh, hu-uh, she r-i-i-ide\nShe wanna ride, ooh-oh-oh\nMy shawty better than that\nCan't complain about nothin' (Can't complain about nothin'!)\nHow the fuck am I ever gon' go turn myself in?\nGotta stack up on the Seroquel\nBitch it's pimpin' can't you tell? (Yeah)\nThis is pimpin', can't you tell? (Yeah)\nThis shit look fishy, I don't wanna see\nEmergency, I'm tryna go to sleep\nMoney cut down a load of trees\nSauvage Dior, this ain't no Creed\nMy dog got a deal, he back on the street\nThis bitch is so real, she as bad as can be\nI had bitches around they was backstabbing me\nI went straight to the racks like a hemi in me\nGood energy, I invest in my queen\nI can ride on this hoe like a new 12 speed\nMy bitch, bad, tragedy\nBitch, bad, tragedy\nYou said no interest (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nSaid you found a better climax (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nYou said he's swagged out (Tsh-tsh-ah), you leave (Tsh-tsh-tsh)\nIt's like a shot to the back (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nThrough the nose of a barrel (Tsh-tsh-tsh)\nFor you don't want to go (Tsh-tsh)\nBut leave, like it's nothing (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nYou said no interest (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nSaid you found a better climax (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nYou said he's swagged out (Tsh-tsh-ah), you leave (Tsh-tsh-tsh)\nIt's like a shot to the back (Tsh-tsh-ah)\nThrough the nose of a barrel (Tsh-tsh-tsh)\nFor you don't want to go (Tsh-tsh)\nBut leave, like it's nothing\n\nI'm in London, got my beat from London"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsPull Up on a Kid Lyrics\n(Wheezy Beats)\nYeah, yeah\nNigga, what?\nYeah, ayy, yeah\n\nI know all my whips are foreign, I know all your bitches borin'\nI know I gained me some weight when I was tourin'\nFresh and clean like a newborn, I wet that bitch and then wet yours\nI ride that beat with no insurance (What you tell 'em, Thugger?)\n\nPull up on a kid, pull up on a kid (Woo)\nPull up on a kid, pull up on a kid (Skrrt)\nPull up on a kid, pull up on a kid (Whoa)\nPull up on a kid, baby, pull up on a kid (Whoa, skrrt-skrrt)\nPull up on a kid (Pull up, pull up, pull up, pull up)\nYou need to pull up on a kid (Pull up, pull up, pull up, pull up)\nYou need to pull up a on kid (What?)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\n(YSL, Thugger, Thugger, baby)\nOoh, she bad, damn, she bad, yeah, she bad, yeah\nMichael Jackson (Jackson), Freddy Jackson check my jacket, yeah\nBalmain jeans (Fresh), extended tee, that my swag, yeah\nBad bitch (Swag), know I'm loaded, so they taxing, yeah\nWrite it off (Sheesh), hold it (Hold up, hold up)\nMake her come back like she owe me (Then what?), she know it\nI tapped on that ass and she turn around and show it, oh Lord (Ah)\nMoved down to Miami now she think she's Zoeing (What?)\nThey know her (What else?), they taught her, they showed her (Woo)\nFresh as a peppermint (I'm clean), grease 'em like sandwiches (Ooh)\nAlmost couldn't handle it (Whoa, whoa), I don't establish it (No)\nPopping these Xannies, these Perkies, I'm dranking that lean, and I'm smoking that good (Sheesh)\nTold that lil' bitch I want to see her topless just like a hood (Sheesh)\nYou might also like\nPull up on a kid, pull up on a kid (Woo)\nPull up on a kid, pull up on a kid (Skrrt)\nPull up on a kid, pull up on a kid (Whoa)\nPull up on a kid, baby, pull up on a kid (Whoa, skrrt-skrrt)\nPull up on a kid (Pull up, pull up, pull up, pull up)\nYou need to pull up on a kid (Pull up, pull up, pull up, pull up)\nYou need to pull up a on kid (What?)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\n(Yak!)\nOG, yeah, yeah, yeah\nWoo, green, green\nHa, slatt, yeah, yeah\nClean, clean, Yak\n\nI'm back where I motherfucking left at (Woo)\nMinor setback for a major fuckin' comeback (Woo)\nRap the fucking show, rock and roll, this a death trap\nPlaying with my slimes, you won't make it out the exit\nMr. Brazy Ho (Ho)\nMrs. Brazy Ho (Ho)\nAnybody get it (Anybody)\nEenie-meenie-mo (Eenie-mo)\nI'm the same nigga used to pull up on the mail truck (Ha)\nIf you ask me, it feel good (Yak)\nPull up on a kid (Slatt), pull up on a kid (Slatt, woo)\nPull up on a kid (Slatt), pull up on a kid (Skrrt)\nPull up on a kid, pull up on a kid (Whoa)\nPull up on a kid, baby, pull up on a kid (Whoa, skrrt-skrrt)\nPull up on a kid (Pull up, pull up, pull up, pull up)\nYou need to pull up on a kid (Pull up, pull up, pull up, pull up)\nYou need to pull up a on kid (What?)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah\nIf I take these Xans with you\nIf I take these Xans\nWould you cancel all your plans?\nI got all the plans for you\nI got all the plans, if I take a Xan\nIf I take these Xans with you\nWould you cancel all your plans?\nI got all the plans, if I spend these bands with you\nWould you pull up on a man? Do it on demand?\nIf I take all of these Xans with you?\nWould you cancel all your plans?\nI got all the plans, I got all the plans for you\nIf I take all of these Xans\nWould you cancel all your plans?\nI got, I got all the plans for you\nYeah\n\n(Hee!)\nI'm swaggin, committed\nYoung Skooly, ayy, hold it (Hold)\nThem booties, they callin' (Brr)\nI fuck 'em, I duck 'em (Yeah)\nHah, I'm swaggin' (Swag)\nYoung Thugger, I'm bleedin' (Thugger)\nYoung nigga make it rain for no reason\nHah, hah, hah (Yeah, yeah)\nI'm a real beast (Yeah)\nLil bear, big bear (Grr)\nKiller, killa\nNo wolf trap, kidnap (Swoo!)\nYou might also like\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah (Thugger)\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah-yeah (Yeah)\n\nI'm beasting, neck glacial (Thugger)\nI'm icy (agh), a penguin (hah)\nI pop-pop the forty (yee)\nI cut-cut, then snort it (yee)\nNigga, watch out (woo), baby, hold up (woo)\nNigga (woo), nigga back up (ahh)\nNigga act up (woo), you get smacked up (woo)\nNigga murk you, nigga shot calls (woo)\n\nYeah, yeah-yeah (Hol' it)\nYeah (Hol' it), yeah-yeah (Hol' it)\nYeah (Hol' it), yeah-yeah (Woah)\nYeah, yeah, yeah-yeah (Yeah)\n\nThat AP, that Rollie \u2018iantte\nDo you see me? Not on me (Nah)\nHomie-killer, kill homies (Swea)\nYou lil Jabronis know me (Knew it)\nImpeccable (Yeah), I'm telling you (Yeah)\nI bleed out (Swear), my avenue (Ice)\nI promise, ain't tellin' you (Cash)\nNo story (Why?) I ain't flexing, fool (Swear)\nShawty's something to do (Swear to God)\nBut I'm doing two (Doing what?)\nAnd I'ma do her too (Swear to God)\nGot rich, got rich\nWoo! (Woo)\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah\n\nOkay, I'm rollin', I'm rollin', I'm rollin'\nWe jetpack that new Jeep, you know that it's stolen\nI had to move on, right, that old shit annoyin'\nI been had the fame now, she work at the door an'\nI pull up, I cash out, you know that, I do\nI nail that, I film that, she hate that, it's true\nI'm in that, I'm missing, she feeling a way\nSome prometh', some 'tanyl, some things I, can take\nWhat's happenin', what's boppin', what's brackin', you know\nWe pull up, we throw sets, we chuck it, then go\nWe flamers, we flamed up, the side out, kick doors\nI'm in that, she winnin', ain't gettin' out windows\nI'm poppin' a Xan now, I'm Perc'in', don't vert\nIf I show your ass, perk out your shirt\nWith two Xans, you go now, let's wave it, let's go\nOn one-two, on one-two, you know what to do\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\n\nWon't you come around, yeah\nDiamonds in my town, uh\nBad guys in my town, yeah\nThat right there's my dime, yeah-yeah\n\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\n\nX, it takes my pain\nI've been inside and jumping\nRat-tat, lose your brain\nPaint that bitch right through your brain, yeah-yeah\nYeah, yeah-yeah\n\nI got latitude, I was reaching out the avenue\nCapture you, beat you bad, nigga, battle you\nSnake shit, shoot your chest and shoot your bladder, too\nApe shit, we go monkey, go banana, too\nDifference between me and him is he gon' run from you\nAnd I'm nev' gonna run, I'ma gun at you\nHunnid K for the teeth got some gum on you\nCause my wife is too bad, she the bomb on you\nBaby, suck that dick until it cum on you\nI'ma suck that pussy, put some nut on you\nShe gon' drawdown with me, got you runnin', too\nAnd just for that, I might put a son in you\nPut that thirty piece right in my bomber, too\nQuarter milli' Chanel, and she stuntin', too"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsJust How It Is Lyrics\nWheezy outta here\n\nOoh-woo, diamonds peek-a-boo\nOoh-woo, I done fucked her crew\nOoh-woo, I done did the robbin'\nI done did the jackin', now I'm full rappin'\nI put on my brothers, I put on my bitch\nHad to wear the dress 'cause I had a stick\nYou know where the bag at, tell me where it is\nI came from rags to riches, I'm the shit\nI can no longer disguise it, bitch, 'cause I'm rich\nI got cars galore, lil' bitch, 'cause I'm rich\nI escaped every one of the licks 'cause I was supposed to be rich\nI don't care nothin' 'bout no cop, I'm tellin' you just how it is\n\nPut it in a Uber, send it to a shooter\nAsk me how they do it, kickin' shit, Ryu, Ken\nPut it in a cab, send it to a Arab\nHit 'em with the MAC now, now his whole body scabbed\nCash on delivery (Ayy)\nG.O.A.T. talk of the century (Oh)\nNo time for gibberish, all the critics hearin' this\nAll the bitches lipstick, and her pussy slippery\nI can call a troop, go by the name of Duke\nKidnap a kangaroo, I can send a moose (Woo)\nNiggas stole a chain, but I ain't worried, fool\nI'ma keep on spinnin' 'til they tell me who\nYou might also like\nOoh-woo, diamonds peek-a-boo\nOoh-woo, I done fucked her crew\nOoh-woo, I done did the robbin'\nI done did the jackin', now I'm full rappin'\nI put on my brothers, I put on my bitch\nHad to wear the dress 'cause I had a stick\nYou know where the bag at, tell me where it is\nI came from rags to riches, I'm the shit\nI can no longer disguise it, bitch, 'cause I'm rich\nI got cars galore, lil' bitch, 'cause I'm rich\nI escaped every one of the licks 'cause I was supposed to be rich\nI don't care nothin' 'bout no cop, I'm tellin' you just how it is\n\nI don't gotta throw you shit like Kaepernick, nah\nI got seven bitches with me, Kaepernick\nYeah, R.I.P. Nipsey, I can tell you how to get rich\nI can tell you how to die or how to live in this bitch\nI can tell you how to talk the most impeccable shit\nI can show you how to walk like you got decimals, bitch\nShow you how I can get the top from all the top ten bitches\nI got white Adderalls and I have amoxicillin\nI got lights on, baby, I got moths in this bitch\nNo fly zone, caught you like you're Moss in this bitch\nGrowin' tycoon and I took some losses, you bitch\nI'm a boss, but I don't like to take a loss in this bitch (Wheezy outta here)\nSuch a player but I cake and cuddle all of my bitches\nI got layers, I got millions, I got all type of buildings\nFuck around and air the pussy nigga out like linen\nLast nigga tried me almost got popped in Lenox\nAsk the cops, ask the detectives, they know all the business\nAsk the cops and the detectives, all the jurisdictions\nAsk the kids at school who ambition all the missions\nGave the lawyer close to two mil', he handle all the killings\nI don't know and I don't wanna know who 'flaged Bentleys\nI don't know what's goin' with bro, I think they all spillin'\nWe don't speak 'bout shit on wax, it's all mob business\nWe known to kill the biggest cats of all kitties\nOoh-woo, diamonds peek-a-boo\nOoh-woo, I done fucked her crew\nOoh-woo, I done did the robbin'\nI done did the jackin', now I'm full rappin'\nI put on my brothers, I put on my bitch\nHad to wear the dress 'cause I had a stick\nYou know where the bag at, tell me where it is\nI came from rags to riches, I'm the shit\nI can no longer disguise it, bitch, 'cause I'm rich\nI got cars galore, lil' bitch, 'cause I'm rich\nI escaped every one of the licks 'cause I was supposed to be rich\nI don't care nothin' 'bout no cop, I'm tellin' you just how it is"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsJust Might Be Lyrics\nYeah, ever gon' see, yeah\n(Wheezy Beats)\nEver gon' see, yeah, I promise!\nEver gon' see, yeah, I promise! I\nAyy, man get your mutherfuckin' hands away from my syrup man\nLivin' life bro, I'm happy\nNothin\u2019 more, nothin\u2019 less\n\nBaby, you know that I might be the realest lil' nigga you ever gon' see (You know it)\nBaby, you know that I might be the trillest lil' nigga that you wanna be (Woah)\nBaby, you know that I might be the richest lil' nigga you ever could treat (Rich)\nAnd you know that I might just scoop that lil' bitch up off of her feet (Really rich)\nAll of these niggas they know that they fallin' and everyone wanna be me (Yeah)\nAll of these bitches don't wanna be cheated on but all these bitches wan' cheat (Yeah)\nAll of these bitches wan' be the new wifey but all of these bitches be cheatin' (Bitch)\nAll of these rappers I swear they watering down and I'm the chlorine, ah\n\nFeed me, feed me (Yeah)\nThese pussy niggas tighter than a wedgie, weegee (Woo)\nI live life like a sniper, they can't see me, see me (Pew)\nHer heart like an old diaper, I can't leave it, leave it (Ew)\nI'm drinkin' on this motherfuckin' mud (Yeah)\nOkay, my fuckin' back pocket fat like a butt (Yeah)\nI swear I'm a blood, I can never be your cuz (No)\nYou can roger that like my motherfuckin' buzz (Losie!)\nMmm, bubbler, hey, hey (What?)\nI'll bippoty-bop, then stick it and fade (Pew, pew pew)\nI keep some coke and the rocks on me everyday (Everyday)\nI got a bitch with a yacht that's sittin' in the bay (Yeah)\nCome here, tempt me if you wan' go on a date (Yeah)\nI'll make bail within' the first 48 (Yeah)\nI'll give her the stick\nShe gon' get a clip, bigger than a porn star dick\nAnd I need new castin' for a porn star clip\nYou might also like\nBaby, you know that I might be the realest lil' nigga you ever gon' see (You Know It)\nBaby, you know that I might be the trillest lil' nigga that you wanna be (Woah)\nBaby, you know that I might be the richest lil' nigga you ever could treat (Rich)\nAnd you know that I might just scoop that lil' bitch up off of her feet (Really rich)\nAll of these niggas they know that they fallin' and everyone wanna be me (Yeah)\nAll of these bitches don't wanna be cheated on but all these bitches wan' cheat (Yeah)\nAll of these bitches wan' be the new wifey but all of these bitches be cheatin' (Bitch)\nAll of these rappers I swear they watering down and I'm the chlorine, ah\nChlorine, I'm the...\n\nThat's called breathin', that's how you let that bitch breathe fool\nUh, uh\nUhh\nHa, ha, ha\n\nOkay, you know all my diamonds got no flaws (What?)\nMomma move to 85 north, not 85 south (Diamonds)\nI think these hoes piranhas excluding my baby momma (I swear)\nI take care my daddy momma by pullin' up with them bundles (Skr)\n(rrrt) If I ain't treat you good, lil' baby, just know it's karma (Ha)\nYou did my nigga wrong, I know it, it was last summer (Yeah)\nLyin' to me, tellin' me I'm the bomb like Osama (Boom)\nI wish I could spend 50 bands on tour for grandmama (I swear)\nI'll crack that nigga head with a bottle\nI could never call, not a fed, not a cop (Brr)\nNiggas said I'm the best and I said, \"Do y'all\"\nYSL scream \"fuck the rest\" 'cause we got right now\nNiggas asked me \"Am I sure?\", and the Bentley said \"Yeah\"\nThat little bitch ask for a purse and you know I said \"Yeah\"\nShe gon' act just like a clerk when them feds in there\nShe might act like she know Bird when them players in there, Yeah\nBaby, you know that I might be the realest lil' nigga you ever gon' see (You know it)\nBaby, you know that I might be the trillest lil' nigga that you wanna be (Woah)\nBaby, you know that I might be the richest lil' nigga you ever could treat (Rich)\nAnd you know that I might just scoop that lil' bitch up off of her feet (Really rich)\nAll of these niggas they know that they fallin' and everyone wanna be me (Yeah)\nAll of these bitches don't wanna be cheated on but all these bitches wan' cheat (Yeah)\nAll of these bitches wan' be the new wifey but all of these bitches be cheatin' (Bitch)\nAll of these rappers I swear they watering down and I'm the chlorine, ah\n\nI'm the chlorine, bitch\nYeah, I'm 'bout to clean some motherfuckers, fool\nYou know what I'm sayin\nI got on flue but you know I'm still drippin'\nYou know what I'm sayin' oh\nOh, ah, oh, ah"}
{"text":"Wheezy outta here\n\nMy career 'bout to blast like bubbly\nI'm not waitin' for her to say she love me\nI can tell she fuck with me, man, trust me\nI got a ten-year-old mink still ain't fuzzy\nThree-twenty-five on the dashboard\nRidin' in the Porsche, rockin' Tom Ford\nI ball at Barneys, new Christian Dior\nI took the jet to the New York store\nShe lick while I'm drivin', I'm stainin' the floor\nI took it off track, now I'm ridin' in sport (Yeah)\nYou stay in your feelings, you never my boy\nI can't come to the hood, I pull a decoy\nAnother body drop and they screamin' my name\nI'm goin' to L.A. on a private plane\nCould never come back and my family straight (Grrah)\nI'm touchable? No, I'm too rich and too paid\nSkeleton Cartier, black diamonds face\nPull up too deep like a fuckin' parade\nOld jealous-ass niggas tryna fuck up my pay (Ha)\nBlast off, Rolls-Royce Cullinan rain (Broke niggas)\nI put baguettes in my wrist and my neck and my ears and my motherfuckin' chains (Chains)\nThis drip out the trenches, I know you gon' dig it, I come through this motherfucker plain (Woah)\nI cut up my wrist, soakin' wet (Yeah) and Coachella keep callin', they won't see the face\nI took her to China and changed up her climate and now she ain't talkin' the same (Woah, yeah)\nYou might also like\nFive nights up, still poppin' and ragin'\nThe SVR still livin' deranged (Yeah)\nI want her, she wanted the same\nHit 'em both same time, both glad that they came (It's lit)\nKeep me a vibe, but can't keep it contained\nKnow I keep me some dawgs, always keep 'em in training (Oh)\nTat' a logo on the back of my brain\nDon't ask me what the fuck am I thinkin'\nBack of these walls, I'm full of that drank\nEric came through with a little entertainment (It's lit)\nArea 29, got it lookin' like space\nHouston, it's a problem way we bustin' up faces and shit\nI came with the snakes, no squids (Straight up)\nI broke out the game with a 456\nShe lovin' the fest', I see it\nShe lovin' the fest' (Straight up, straight up)\nYeah, I see it on her face, and I'm lovin' that body\nIn lace, I know you lovin' Spider and Jack\nYeah, I know you got taste, if you love yourself, take shots with me\nIf I love you, I'll drop you a pin to a time and a place (Wait)\n\nYSL'll put a nigga six feet\nI ain't beggin' when I tell a bitch, \"Please\"\nMe and lil' Thugger on fleek\nNow that lil' ho wanna meet, ayy\nWhat, what, what, what?\nFuck her on beat\nOVO life not cheap\nI'm a young boy too T'd\nWire just hit my account, never seen that amount, oh God, I'm geeked\nBeen on the charts for five hundred weeks, so somebody love when I speak\nDoin' this shit just to show we get down in the 6, man, it's bigger than me\nTexas ranch so big, that shit is perfect for the dippin'\nI don't care how wet I get her, she won't catch me\u2014\nThree-twenty-five on the dashboard\nRide in the Porsche, rockin' Tom Ford\nRockin' her bed and the headboard\nWhat, what, what, what?\nBuyin' out Louis and Christian Dior\nI took the jet to the New York store\nPark at the regular airport\nYou stay in your feelings, was never my boy"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsSafe Lyrics\nYeah, I got you boo\nTogether forever, man any problem that you got, bitch I got it too\nTogether forever, man any problem that you got, bitch I got it too\nWheezy beats\n\nI'll cock it back, I'm ready to fire that chrome, hey\nI was out the country, ain't know what time I'm on (Different time zones)\nI was tryna get the devil out of my charms\nI was thankin' God, I was thankin' Allah I'm on\nI spend more money on security than I make\nJust to be safe (Just to be safe)\nJust to be safe, dawg (Just to be safe, dawg)\nI spend more money on security than I make\nJust to be safe, dawg\nGotta make it home\n\nHop out the Bent and into the coupe\nFuzz hit my family, they switchin' it up\nIt ain't nothin' I could do (Nothin' I could do)\nMy trust is fucked up\nI ride with that wooly, I pour my own juice\nJust in case a nigga look on me, and try run up on me\nI'ma fuck with the cougars\nElliantte gon' flood me, man fuck it I'm stuntin' on you\nI hope you lay down and remember that I was just gunnin' for you (Fool)\nThey told me that I was gon' end up like MC Hammer\n'Cause everything I get, I try to invest it in you\nYou too and you too\nIn the daytime a nigga havin' nightmares\nI wonder if he answerin' every one of my prayers\nHate to say it but I go broke 'bout anyone of my peers\nYou ain't gon' never change this shit\nYea, I'm bustin' down, yeah\nEvery single mothafucker 'round me wrist gon' bust down, bust down\nAin't gon' get no second chance, you crossed me\nI don't give a fuck about you\nYea, I'ma give up on you\nYea, I'ma hit the clutch 'bout you (Skrt)\nI'ma throw it up by ya, yea, you better have luck by ya\nCan't nobody ever beat the triple cross\nI got snake in my veins, snake in my drawls\nI got snake on my attire, snake inside my wounds\nI put snakes around your eyes and, man, you gon' move\nYou might also like\nI'll cock it back, I'm ready to fire that chrome, hey\nI was out the country, ain't know what time I'm on\nI was tryna get the devil out of my charms\nI was thankin' God, I was thankin' Allah I'm on\nI spend more money on security than I make\nJust to be safe (I spend more money)\nJust to be safe, dawg\nI spend more money on security than I make\nJust to be safe, dawg (Just to be safe)\nGotta make it home\n\nAnd I just wanna make it back to my kiddies\nAnd I just wanna sit back and count these digits\nDon't plan on lettin' nobody take their place\nI pay more money to security than I make\nAnd it's crazy but it's safe\nI get to run around in peace everyday\nI know my niggas go monkey like Bathing Ape\nI tried to tell you, but you had to learn late\nI was just holdin' you down and you didn't stay down like you 'posed to\nI had you rollin' around in that Bentley Mulsanne and the Rolls too\nI had you glossin' on all of these bitches just like you was 'posed to\nI got you latest Chanel, and the latest Fendi, and the Gucci too\nI told you, I love you forever\nI'm never gon' change, I'm not stoppin', boo\nI told you, I was gonna keep your lil' bank account full\nAnd your pocket too\nI start at your ear, I'ma lick it, then fuck around and end at the bottom, boo\nTogether forever, man\nAny problem that you got, bitch, I got it too\nI'll cock it back, I'm ready to fire that chrome, hey\nI was out the country, ain't know what time I'm on (Different time zones)\nI was tryna get the devil out of my charms\nI was thankin' God, I was thankin' Allah I'm on\nI spend more money on security than I make\nJust to be safe (Just to be safe)\nJust to be safe, dawg (Just to be safe, dawg)\nI spend more money on security than I make\nJust to be safe, dawg\nGotta make it home"}
{"text":"89 ContributorsWebbie Lyrics\nThugger, ayy\nI roll me one, smoke to the face\n(Billboard Hitmakers)\nI roll me one, smoke to the face, ayy (Ayy)\nRoll up a blunt and I'ma face it, yeah, yeah\nKing Slime (Ayy, ayy)\nHey\n\n(Ayy, ayy)\nThey politickin' 'bout these cases ('Tickin' 'bout these cases)\nHey, ooh-ayy\nI told her roll me up a blunt and I'ma face it (And I'ma face)\nAyy (Yeah)\n\nTroublemaker, man, I've been shootin' out with my neighbors, yeah (Yeah)\nMy lil' niggas been tryna trap it out in the vacant, yeah (Yeah)\nPatek Philippe, they got my wrist and they don't play with that (Patek Philippe)\nShe been suckin' dick way before a nigga made it, yeah (Suckin' dick)\n\nPass me the motherfuckin' lighter (Pass, pass)\nLil' mama overseas, I'ma Skype her (Thugger, thugger)\nNigga checkin' out the squad, tryna bite us (Slime)\nBut my hand is way different, got the Midas (Woo)\nAyy, do a dream with me\nAyy, do some things with me (Yeah)\nBae, drink your lean with me (Yeah)\nBae falled asleep with me (Lean, lean)\nAin't falled asleep, we drive (Woo)\nJeopardize your life or mines (Woo)\nLet me fuck one more time\nAnd I'll help you write your rhymes\nYou might also like\nIt's extremely fake\nThey politickin' 'bout these cases (Man, I'm gonna face it)\nHey, ooh-ayy (Motherfucking face)\nI told her roll me up a blunt and I'ma face it (You can fucking face it)\nAyy\n\nTroublemaker, man, I've been shootin' out with my neighbors, yeah (Aw yeah)\nMy lil' niggas been tryna trap it out in the vacant, yeah (Brrt)\nPatek Philippe, they got my wrist and they don't play with that (Patek Philippe)\nShe been suckin' dick way before a nigga made it, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\n\nBand, band, band (Bitch, bands, racks, cash)\nRight outta the plan, plan, plan (What? Yeah, woo)\nI'll pop at your man, man, man (Boom)\nI'll do what I can on a Xan' (Xans)\nYes, I'm geeked up like an astronaut\nI'm off the Earth (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI'm way in the moon (Way in the moon)\nKickin' shit without a broom (Shit without a broom)\nMy mama can't lose (Nuh-uh)\nI'ma keep her in a fresh car and I'm good on them shoes (Woo)\nI'ma keep her so froze up, yeah, I'ma keep her in some jewels\nI'ma go'on 'head and nut in my bitch\nI'ma gon' and give her juice (Gon' and get her juice)\nShe did two times now, I done told her that was rude\nThey don't wanna see you win\nNah, they want you always to lose (L, L, L)\nThey gon' always want you be stuck with them\nThey'll never wish you good luck on them\nAnd they'll never wish bad luck either\nAnd I don't know what the fuck to think either\nGot a foreign car like a white beatle\nTcch, actin' like she like people\nKnowin' they don't give two fucks if they're still here\nThey'll leave her (Woo)\nThis politician is so fake (On God)\nThey politickin' 'bout these cases (Put it on God)\nHey, ooh-ayy (I know He looking)\nI told her roll me up a blunt and I'ma face it (Yeah, yeah)\nAyy (Ayy)\n\nTroublemaker, man, I've been shootin' out with my neighbors, yeah (Yeah)\nMy lil' niggas been tryna trap out of the vacant, yeah (Aw yeah)\nPatek Phillipe, they got my wrist and they don't play with that (Patek Phillipe)\nShe been suckin' dick way before a nigga made it, yeah, yeah\n\nGot off my ass and I got tired of waitin' (Tired of waitin')\nMama said, \"You gonna make it, you gotta be patient\" (Mama said, \"You gonna make it\")\nCame out the hood, trap out the spot where they vacant (Trap out the spot)\nNow we flyin' different places, fuckin' bitches, all different races\nI did this shit that they thought I wouldn't do and I made it (Made it)\nI was so down bad and so fucked up, couldn't make over eighty (For real)\nI lost some friends, that was so fucked up\nAnd I know that they hate me (Fuck, fuck)\nThugger, he gave me a chance and I had to take it (Gimme that)\n(But I) used to trap on the block with the 380\nNow when I pull up, they gotta pay me (Skrrt)\nI came from nothing, born in the eighties (I came from nothing)\nThese niggas actors like Patrick Swayze\nI gotta get it, I can't be lazy (I gotta get it)\nDidn't have a dime so my mama crazy (Didn't have a dime)\nRan up a sack with Thugger, baby\nMan, this shit so amazing\nYeah, new Patek Phillipe\nCost a hundred bands, man\nClear, with nothing' on it\nThen I went and seen Elliott and iced that motherfucker out, you dig?\nThat's on Big Duck, that's on all 6, know I'm sayin'?\nI got like a hundred-seventy, hundred-eighty thousand dollar watch, bro\nAnd it glow up, um, gleen\u2014 green at night\nAnd when the sun hit it on the plane\nYou understand what I'm sayin'?\nYeah, I used to do this shit to maintain\n'Til my\u2014'til I started usin' fourteen percent of my brain\nAnd that left me with five stars worth of stains, you dig?\nThugger"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsHey, I Lyrics\nGet it\n\nI think she ready for a kiddy\nShe told me she gon' make me miss her\nShe let me wet her whole lil' ceiling\nMy dick like crack so yeah, I'm dealing\nShe gotta love him, Peter Griffin\nNut on the front of her head like I'm Eddie Griffin\nI make it count, I'm a star and she can make a wish\nI'm going down with her hard 'til her partition\n\nWhere the fuck you going, girl? I miss you\nI wanna bang like a pistol\nI wanna bang like a Crip do\nI'm banging red like suu whoo, ooh\nBrand new Rollie I'm living sporty\nFlood you with gold like a trophy\nShe still the bomb, call her lotus\nHey, racks keep me up without Folger's\nI'm up, I'm up\nI might hit 'em with them bucks just in case he got luck\nThis a Crime Mob lifestyle nigga, knuck if you buck\nJust 'cause I'm in New York with a puck\nDon't mean you won't get stuck up, up\nAyy, I might just tell this ho my secrets\nFirst I like them red like a demon\nA purse, every time lil' momma catch me cheating\nStarburst, I won't eat it unless she creamy\nYou might also like\nI think she ready for a kiddy\nShe told me she gon' make me miss her\nShe let me wet her whole lil' ceiling\nMy dick like crack so yeah, I'm dealing\nShe gotta love him, Peter Griffin\nNut on the front of her head like I'm Eddie Griffin\nI make it count, I'm a star and she can make a wish\nI'm going down with her hard 'til her partition\n\nI done completed my little mission\nI put something in your stomach next to your kidney\nI want nothing to do with none of these lil' bitches\nI want something to do with everything and I'm willing\nTo go to church and ask God there for forgiveness\nFor everything and tell that preacher that I'm gon' remember\nHim bringing you in my life and that's on my children\nFuck all them other hoes talking, they Wendy Williams\nNow your wrist got ice like December\nI pour out the paint like Mutumbo\nI'm a fucking lion like Simba\nAnd, yeah, my girl ballin' like Kendra\n\nI think she ready for a kiddy\nShe told me she gon' make me miss her\nShe let me wear her whole lil' ceiling\nMy dick like crack so yeah, I'm dealing\nShe gotta love him, Peter Griffin\nNut on the front of her head like I'm Eddie Griffin\nI make it count, I'm a star and she can make a wish\nI'm going down with her hard 'til her partition"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsTranslationsYoung Thug - Sin ft. Jaden (Traducci\u00f3n al Espa\u00f1ol)*Sin Lyrics\nMan, fuck all y'all (Just come wit' me)\nEverything I do is for us only (Yeah, yeah)\nOnly us, none of y'all other niggas (I know none of y'all can't tell)\nIt's on God\n(I'm in London, got my beat from London)\n\nAyy, ayy, I'm drippin' again\nThe way that I drip this shit should be a sin\nAyy, ayy, divorce all my friends\nI'm not a Migo, 'bout to trap out the Benz\nAyy, they told me don't spend\nI went got the racks and I did it again\nAyy, I think she a twin\nPlus she got red calamari skin\nAyy, you don't got no wins\nYou should grab something white and just throw it on in\nI went to school, got suspended\nI told her I want some head, bobby pin\nIf the lil... don't got class, yeah, we call it truancy\nI ain't had no money to spend\nI got my first check and went paid off my rent\n\nI poured a four from the clouds down\nAnd my head floating in bliss (Goddamn)\nI'm on the phone with big bro now (Damn)\nHe told me keep Benz on the race (Goddamn)\nUntil you see it like this, I promise man you'd never think it exists\nStraight out a jet to the crib, I'm quick with the switch\nMan we never miss, okay (God)\n'Bout to turn up in the club, man, back the fuck up\nWe ain't takin' no pictures\nSee all the wings in the front, it's us\nWe had to triple the digits\nSee all those sexy mamas blowing kisses, man\nWe had to grant all they wishes (We grants-)\nCasamigos got me spinnin'\nBut I want some spendin' some out wit' some dealers\nLet's go (Goddamn)\nYou might also like\nI'm rocking Dior Sauvage (Damn)\nI'm higher than Scotty, they calling me Pippen (God)\nI got some Cartier vision, it costs me six thousand\nI'm watchin' these women\nMoney's the reason I'm sinning\nMoney's the reason I gotta take Ritalin\nYou niggas don't care 'bout women\nJust shut the fuck up, yeah I'm taking care plenty\nI put Chanel on a belt buckle, of when my price is half off\nI keep a stick for my cover, got way more girls than Hugh Hefner\nGot the same name as the butler\nBut more money than Ashley and her mother\nGot a backwood full of sherbert, I'm 'bout to smoke like a murder\n\nAyy, ayy, I'm dripping again\nThe way that I drip this shit should be a sin\nAyy, ayy, divorce all my friends\nI'm not a Migo, 'bout to trap out the Benz\nAyy, they told me don't spend\nI went got the racks and I did it again\nAyy, I think she a twin\nPlus she got red calamari skin\nAyy, you don't got no wins\nYou should grab something white and just throw it on in\nI went to school, got suspended\nI told her I want some head, bobby pin\nIf the lil... don't got class, yeah, we call it truancy\nI ain't had no money to spend\nI got my first check and went paid off my rent\nOoh, hop out the back of the turn up\nAvoid all the cameras, I did it on purpose\nShe tryna act like she perfect\nI see all the masks that you leave on the surface\nShe made me write all my verses in cursive\nShe need all them purses at Herm\u00e8s\nThat's like 25 racks and we always on a roll\nMan, we always working, let's go\n\nAy, let me pour up some Act, got some brand new graffiti\nIt's going down my back\nI got Chanel slippers, Gucci pennies, baby, girl you can pick\nRocking Giuseppe Zanotti's a night\nI spent half a million designer on kits\nI got Chanel slippers, Gucci pennies, baby girl you can pick\nI got so high, went off the equator, I feel like Buzz Lightyear\nI met a broad, skinny like nails, and I was richer than ice cream\nI had to grind without a rail, now all my cars got Nitron\nStraight to Dubai, I feel like the mail, I was on a Global Express\n\nI had to grind without a rail, now all my cars got Nitron\nStraight to Dubai, I feel like the mail, I was on a Global Express\nI'm in London, got my beat from London"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsDaddy\u2019s Birthday Lyrics\nJust a typical day in New York, you know what I'm sayin'\nI'm high as fuck, yeah\nDiamonds on me\n\nDropped out of school and bought myself a chain\nI must've taught myself a million things\nI'm out the trap, I can sell anything\nI wish I would allow myself to hear that sold dream\nI pray my daughter never ever experience no train\nI told her Colgate, baby, you gotta keep your teeth straight\n\nYeah, bae, I'm flexing, ex textin' (Hold on, woah I'm just textin')\nBrand new 'Rari, Smith and Wesson (Brand new 'Rari, woah, skrrt)\nMade myself a balla, want my credit, yuh\nSpeaking of credit, bailiff owe me, I got credit, yuh\nVrrrm, V12, y'all ain't ready at all (Skrrt)\nTrapping B's, I'm like \"hurry up and buy\"\nExtra Draco for my pops, 'cause his birthday 4th of July\nI'm so busy it's making me feel like I'm in and out my kids' lives (Hey!)\n\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh (I'm the father of six babies)\nOooh (You know what I'm sayin?)\nNew coupe, new shoes (New coupe, brand new shoes)\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh\nRed bottoms, I'm kicking shit, I'm flossing on you fools\n(Flossin' on you)\nCameltoe big, I see the print inside her suit (Cameltoe)\nRose gold my jewelry up, and I'm in and out it too (In and out it)\nFuck 'em by the two and let them travel with a few (Fuck 'em hoes)\nYou might also like\nAll this fuckin' money got me switchin' out my boo\nI'm livin' right and I ain't ever read a book\nChanel vintage, you can put it on the books\nThe way I whip that pot, they charging me with cruelty, ayy\nYeah, don't try to stop me, don't you try to knock me\nYou see me got these crackers in the backpack\nYou gotta forgive my heart, I don't mean to stunt like that\n(I don't mean to do that to you, you know what I'm sayin')\n\nRed bottoms on, I'm at Met Gala (I'm 'bout to spaz)\nAin't playin', yeah, I want every problem (Bitch I'm 'bout to spaz)\nTwo thousand dollars for the newest snake collar (Snake, yeah)\nVintage swagger (Vintage swag), head dollar (ain't playin')\nRock clean (Rock clean), Balmains (C'mon let's get it)\nVintage swag (Just vintage hoe), New Celines (Just want my glasses)\nHands dirty (Hey), watch me turn 'em clean (Clean, clean)\nLil shawty hot (Magic), kerosene\nI'ma kill by any means, favorite sound ching-ching\nI spray her face with my genes, I'ma turn up with my team\nNew condo on 17th (New condo hoe)\nI turn none to something (I turned nothin' to somethin')\nAP match my jeans (AP), Converse is McQueen (woah)\nPatek for my queen (Swag), gambling for these coins\nMattress in front of the swing (Uh-huh), private jet living (Pussy ass nigga)\nI'm on go like beam (I'm on go), new bag with no strings\nI put ice in my cup, indoor pool, no chlorine\nDropped out of school and bought myself a chain\nI must've taught myself a million things\nI'm out the trap I can sell anything\nI wish I would allow myself to hear that sold dream\nI pray my daughter never ever experience no train\nI told her Colgate baby you gotta keep your teeth straight\n\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh\nOoh, New coupe, new shoes (New coupe, brand new shoes)\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh\nRed bottoms, I'm kicking shit, I'm flossing on you fools\n(Flossin' on you)\nCameltoe big, I see the print inside her suit (Cameltoe)\nRose gold my jewelry up, and I'm in and out it too (In and out it)\nFuck 'em by the two and let them travel with a few"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsLil Baby Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah (Slatt)\nYeah, yeah, yeah (I'm surfin')\nWoah, woah, woah\nI'll totally come and shoot your shit up, know what I'm sayin'?\nNo cap, woah\nYoung SEX\n\nFuck it, buy a pink Mercedes (Skrrt)\nI made Forbes every year, lil' baby (Top the Forbes)\nI don't like no long nails on my lady (Of course)\nIs it you that can't reveal that I'm shady?\nWhite toes in her heels, she the latest (Toes)\nShe got plastic Cartiers, think she made it (She made it)\nSucked it in the car and then my kids met the pavement\nExtended pumps and F&Ns like The Matrix (Young SEX)\n\nDiamonds on me wetter than a tub\nShoppin' every day 'cause we used to be fucked up\nKeep a yellow Cinderella on the tuck\nYYB's on, ain't no way I'm givin' up\nDifferent color diamonds on me, bitch, I'm dead wrong\nAnd my bitch in Saudi Arabia, but her redbone (She red)\nI got money, niggas doubted, now I'm mad on (Mad on)\nAyy, I got Rollie-Pollies, I'm on two tone (Yeah, yeah)\nThese tenderoni can't get off me, I see (I see)\nMy slime brothers Pluto, Savage, and YB (Baby)\nQuavo (XO), Takeoff (Scooter), Offset (Roddy), Uzi (RJ)\nLil Durk (Moses), Meek Mill (Nipsey), Drizzy (Travis)\nMore names (Juice WRLD), plenty (PnB, Young SEX)\nYou might also like\nFuck it, buy a pink Mercedes (Skrrt)\nI made Forbes every year, lil' baby (Top the Forbes)\nI don't like no long nails on my lady (Of course)\nIs it you that can't reveal that I'm shady?\nWhite toes in her heels, she the latest (Toes)\nShe got plastic Cartiers, think she made it (She made it)\nSucked it in the car and then my kids met the pavement\nExtended pumps and F&Ns like The Matrix (Young SEX)\n\nI keep exotic drinks and juices by the crates (Young SEX)\nShe put my cum in her cup like it was shake\nI'll never fuck this bitch again, it was a mistake\nI'm Teletubby, diamonds green, blue, white, and grape\nI can afford these black diamonds like a spade (Oh)\nI maneuver through the city with a maid\nI got riches and I guard 'em like the Navy\nPin it up and let me drink it like you're naked (Let's go)\nIt don't matter the ho call like mine baby (It don't matter)\nGot a lil' money to leave your head on the pavement\nFlawless carats got these niggas stand in they places\nAR'd up before I come and issue statements (Young SEX)\n\nFuck it, buy a pink Mercedes (Skrrt)\nI made Forbes every year, lil' baby (Top the Forbes)\nI don't like no long nails on my lady (Of course)\nIs it you that can't reveal that I'm shady?\nWhite toes in her heels, she the latest (Toes)\nShe got plastic Cartiers, think she made it (She made it)\nSucked it in the car and then my kids met the pavement\nExtended pumps and F&Ns like The Matrix\nDrippin', drippin' gold (Drip), wipe a nigga nose (Wipe a nigga nose)\nThis year I'm goin' back thirty-two goals (On you hoes)\nThis year I seen thirty-two mil' (Yeah)\nLast year I popped thirty-five thousand pills (No cap)\nBigger X pill like a ferris wheel (Woo)\nI go Juntao, blond hair, yeah\nLong living like a motherfuckin' wrestler\nIf I ask, I know she'll let me live like I'm a bachelor\nMercedes\nBaby\nMy mama hate it\nReveal I'm shady\nLadies\nBaby\nBaby"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easSup Mate Lyrics\n(DY Krazy)\nYellow tape, I put that on (Yeah, yeah)\nHold up, wait, life's great (Yeah, yeah)\nHold\u2005up,\u2005wait, ice skate\u2005(Yeah, yeah)\nHold up, wait, crime pay\u2005(Yeah, yeah)\nHold up, wait, slatt, slatt (ATL Jacob, yeah, yeah)\nTwenty cars, matte black (Yeah, yeah)\nSurfin' at a Ritz Carlton (Yeah, yeah)\nTwo pink toes (Poof, poof, yeah, yeah)\n\nOxycontin what I piss\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nFlip it to the dog like a dish\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAccept the loss before I quit\n(Yeah, yeah, accept the loss before I quit, yeah, yeah)\nShe slept at the house, I bought her Ruth Chris\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nWhat's up, mate? Got cake, mate (Yeah, yeah)\nGot cheese, mate, got bread, mate (Woo)\nGot cups, mate (Woo, ooh), no fucks, mate (Woo, mate)\nGive no fucks, mate (Woo, geeked, mate), I'm up, mate (Woo, outta shape, yeah, yeah)\nIt's up, mate, I buck, mate (Yeah, yeah)\nI bleed, mate, he bled, mate (Woo, yeah, yeah)\nGot cups, mate, (Woo) no fucks, mate\nLet's fuck, mate (Woo)\nFucked my classmate (Woo), fuck, shit, let's splash, mate (Woo)\nOr suck that shit, let's splash, hey\nYou might also like\nSmokin' on loud, we don't fuck around with y'all\nWanna try this shit, let me know\nWe prepare first and then Columbine\nTrenchcoat, under a nigga's sleeve\n\nWipe his nose, wipe his nose (Pussy ass nigga)\nWipe his nose, (Slatt) wipe his nose (Wipe your nose)\nWipe his nose, (Wipe your nose, slatt) wipe his nose (Slatt, wipe his nose)\nWipe his nose, (Wipe your nose), wipe his nose (Yeah, yeah)\n\nDoubled the cups and then doubled it up and I doubled it up (Yeah, yeah)\nJump in the Bentley, I jump in the truck and I trucker the truck (Woo, yeah, yeah)\nChuggin' it down, I'm smokin' a pound, I'm fuckin' around (Yeah, yeah)\nSmokin' on loud, we don't fuck around with y'all\n\nWhat's up, mate? (Woo) Got the blicky, featherweight (Woo)\nGot the cash, I bake the cake, (Woo) ayy, what's brackin', mate? (Woo)\nI just sniper, mate, (Woo) chain on hydrate, mate (Woo)\nGet no sleep, mate, (Woo) I'm geeked, mate, pushin' weight, outta shape (Yeah, yeah)\n\nRed wings, red bottoms, I'm a fuckin' devil (Yeah, yeah)\nTwenty tennis chains on, not no Ric Flair medal (Woo, yeah, yeah)\nI don't gotta run it back, you heard what Gunna tell 'em (Yeah, yeah)\nPut my diamonds in a bowl, that look like Fruity Pebbles\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nBitch wanna hit her a lick, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBitch wanna suck on the dick, yeah\nBitch wanna get her a brick, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,)\nBitch wanna fuck on a bitch (Yeah)\nBitch wanna fuck on the clique (Yeah, yeah)\nEuros on euros, I'm gettin' it (Uh)\nStep on the floor, now I'm lit (Woo)\n\nWipe his nose, wipe her nose (Woo)\nKick a door, keep the Ruger (Woo)\nPut the pole in his ho, bend her over (Woo, woo, woo)\nThen you buy that bitch a brand new Range Rover (Woo, woo, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nI'm so high, all I can say is \"Woo, woo, woo\"\nI can't talk, I barely could say, \"Woo, woo, woo\"\nCount a M and count another one, ooh, ooh (Ooh)\nFuck that shit, I enter the lotto, woo, woo (Fuck it, yeah, yeah)\n\nCount a half and another\n(Woo, woo, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI can never be a facade relative\n(Woo, woo, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nUp to the sky with my mom, brothers\n(Woo, woo, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nThey let it hit from the side, they were all cudders\n(Woo, woo, fuck it, yeah, yeah)\nOh, okay, fuck her good, make her try voodoo\nOkay, my plug put me on, I call him Lou Lou\nHood nigga, pay it in full, I'm a black Jew\nWhat's population? I come from the trenches, we pray for a brick\nWhat's poppin', lady? Bitches love a nigga's accent (Woo, woo)\nPain pills, codeine, hydro, acid (Woo, woo)\nI hang with some slimes, pullin' kick doors (Woo, woo)\nOutchea, outchea, quit your reachin'\nGucci socky on my feet\nSloppy toppy, keep it neat\nOne, two, three, I got freaks\nOoh, four girls on fleek\nOoh, bad and saditty\nOoh, ass and her titties\nOoh, that ting litty\nAnd my Spanish ting, she bad like J. Lo (Ooh, ooh)\nI crushed up an X pill in her asshole (Ooh, ooh)\nFifty-round clip, got my Draco (Ooh, ooh)\nI should, I should teach drug classes (Ooh, ooh)\nI stay on my grind, Margiela ten toes (Ooh, ooh)\nMoney on my mind, I'm a nympho (Ooh, ooh)\n\nOoh, ass and her titties (Ooh)\nOoh, that ting litty (Ooh)\nOoh, ass and her titties (Ooh)\nOoh, that ting litty (Ooh)\nOoh, ass and her titties (Ooh)\nOoh, that ting litty (Ooh)"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsRiRi Lyrics\nSo I just came out the booth to God damn, to hear this, to hear this shit right here. And my niggas, nigga just, nigga just said, \"bruh I just told them the same shit\". That nigga say he just told these girls that, he knew what I was 'bout to say. That's crazy, cray-cray, I dig though, you know what I'm sayin'? With a golden shovel, with a iced out AP, plus a Rollie bezel on another level\n\nI say bitch what is you thinkin', we Arthur Blankin\u2019\nBig checks on me and I got ranking, I'm steady ranking\nBetter stop listenin' to these hoes 'fore you start shrinkin'\nI know I'm a blood, I'm a gang banger\nI know ain't a bitch but I'm still singin'\nMotherfuck the rest, they ain't really bangin'\nI got the real hitters with me and they dangerous\nYou can't find 'em on no camera but they no namin'\nWashing powder, bae, I'm tired, I've been up all night\nMe and bae Bonnie Clyde, everything we do right\nLove her vibe, love her vibe, she make me feel so nice\nShe 100, the first day we met, she let me fuck all night\n\nAh-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, work\nDo the work, baby, do the work\nTonight, baby, do the work, baby, do the work\nTonight I wanna chill so you gotta do the work (Rihanna)\nIf you want it, you gotta earn it\nYou gotta earn it, you gotta earn-earn-earn-earn-earn-earn it\nIf you want it bae you gotta earn it\nAlright, earn-earn-earn-earn-earn-earn it, ayy\nYou might also like\nI can tell that you want it baby, I can tell that you need it\nI can tell that you suckin', fuckin', I can tell you a demon\nI can tell you a Victoria, baby, I can keep your secret\nI'ma show you how to win without cheatin', I'ma show you how to beat it\nDrop top in a hotbox with a big tall demon\nI'ma let you defeat me, I'ma lead you to victory\nLike, shoutout to Stevie, but these niggas not seein' me\nI'm a big dinosaur, B, and these niggas not bein' me\nAyy, I'm scared to trust you, I'm scared you'll trick me\nI done drive by in a armored car but they're still trynna hit me\nPut 60,000 on my mama ring and it ain't even come out of Tiffany's\nI can tell you how to get the money but you just gotta listen to me\n\nAh-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, work\nDo the work, baby, do the work\nTonight, baby, do the work, baby, do the work\nTonight I wanna chill so you gotta do the work (Rihanna)\nIf you want it, you gotta earn it\nYou gotta earn it, you gotta earn-earn-earn-earn-earn-earn it\nIf you want it bae you gotta earn it\nAlright, earn-earn-earn-earn-earn-earn it, ayy\n\nI picked my diamonds out a honey tree\nI done made a couple millions off of BET\nI got gangster bitch that ride and they gon' clap for me\nI just signed a deal with Kevin, baby clap for me\nKevin without hundreds on me\nJeep truck when I pull up on 'em\nPeep that with my little homies\nI see all these little clonies (Who?)\nI see you lookin' homie\nApple Watch with them boogers on it\nTurn you down, upside, right baby girl like I'm cookin' on ya\nI got 70,000 for my last 30 shows (Do the math)\nI done spend a half a million for my family though\nI think it's time to take my homies thes ride on a boat\nShow them a good time cause I know they\u2019ll do that for me, oh\nAh-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah, work\nTonight baby, gotta work, work, work, work (Ayy)\nWork, work, work, work (Ayy)\nYou gotta work, work, work, work, you gotta work (Ayy)\nIf you want it bae, you gotta earn it\nYou gotta earn-earn-earn-earn-earn-earn-earn it-ayy\nIf you wanna earn it\nYeah, you gotta earn-earn-earn-earn-earn-earn-earnit, ayy\n\nBuild a bridge, you better not burn it, ayy\nBetter be the number one concerned one, ayy\nI got big dogs and they German, ayy\nAyy, ayy, ayy, ayy"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsWhat\u2019s the Move Lyrics\n(BL$$D)\nI just let lil' mama suck me up, girl\nIs you tryna cry in a Rolls\u2005Royce\u2005or the bus\u201a\u2005girl?\nI jumped off the porch and\u2005went straight up\u201a girl (Straight up\u201a girl)\nYou can leave your town and head to another world\n\nWhat the move?\nI'm tired of eyein' you\nI'm tired of spyin' on you\n'Til the pain mines too\nI made it rain on you\nWhen it was hard to maintain too\nI was playin' games with you\nLike you could never play games too, woah (Yeah)\n\nYou just gotta tell me what you want (Tell me what you want)\nLouis Vuitton, diamonds\u201a keep calm (Okay)\nAll you do is point at what you want (Point it out)\nCrystal cut pointers in the charm, c'mon (Oh yeah)\nThirty-five dollars for a duff' (For a duff')\nNigga tryna buy the cash cost (Woo)\nPercy Miller, brazy with the woes\nThirty-five dollars for a duff' (For a duff')\nYou make it twerk for me\nYou get a purse from me\nEighty thousand dollars for her Birkin\nYou get a verse for free\nI make her worship me\nCopy it in bursts for me\nTurn to a P-I-M-P\u201a I make her work for me\nYou don't want the bag, oh no, no, no\nI make her drop it and pop it and work it on my nose\nI make her shut up then suck it, she fuckin' at my shows, mmh\nI make her shut up, she fuckin', she suckin' at my shows, ayy\nYou might also like\nDrip, drip, no shoestring my sneaker, won't trip\nMy jeans is so tight they don't fit\nStill walk around with a stick on my hip\nVVS diamonds right behind my lip\nDon't walk with less than fifty on my wrist\nDiamonds so cold on my neck, it got me sick\nRaf Simons, mix it up with the Rick\nFlexin' on these haters who sent me 'my bad'\nMade it from the soil, made it from the Rex\nRicher than your first, richer than your last\nLUV, know I got swag\nPop a rubber band, pop another Xan'\nI groove around, party pack my hand\nI'm seeing double lookin' through my lens\nTell me what you want, I just want your friend\n\nYou just gotta tell me what you want (Tell me what you want)\nLouis Vuitton, diamonds, keep calm (Okay)\nAll you do is point at what you want (Point it out)\nCrystal cut pointers in the charm, c'mon (Oh yeah)\nThirty-five dollars for a duff' (For a duff')\nNigga tryna buy the cash cost (Woo)\nPercy Miller, brazy with the woes\nThirty-five dollars for a duff' (For a duff')\nYou make it twerk for me\nYou get a purse from me\nEighty thousand dollars for her Birkin\nYou get a verse for free\nI make her worship me\nCopy it in bursts for me\nTurn to a P-I-M-P, I make her work for me\nYou don't want the bag, oh no, no, no\nI make her drop it and pop it and work it on my nose\nI make her shut up then suck it, she fuckin' at my shows, mmh\nI make her shut up, she fuckin', she suckin' at my shows, ayy\nDiamonds, they drip down my wrist\nLet's get it, fuck all the skits, woo\nLeft wrist sittin' on a brick (Left wrist)\nBitch have it locked like a pick (Sheesh)\nFittz Park, came for the shit\nGrab a AK for the wrist\nGorilla, rockin' Bape on a bitch\nPotential court case on a bitch (Bitch)\nWe livin' state to state on a bitch (We livin' state to state, yeah)\nWe never ever play with the bitch (We never ever play, no)\nDo everything the same on a bitch (Never tell the difference)\nWe known to pick the brains of a bitch (Big bag)\nI throw the big B's on a bitch\nI got a few C's on a bitch (Got slatt)\nI'm in another league on a bitch\nMy diamond 'bout to ski on a bitch (Woo)\n\nWhat's the move?\nI'm tired of eyein' you (Oh, yeah)\nI was tired of spyin' on you\n'Til the pain mines too (Yeah)\nMake it rain on you (Make it rain, rain)\nIt was hard to maintain too, ooh (It was hard to maintain)\nI was playin' games with you\nLike you couldn't play games too, hey, okay\nYou just gotta tell me what you want (Tell me what you want)\nLouis Vuitton, diamonds, keep calm (Okay)\nAll you do is point at what you want (Point it out)\nCrystal cut pointers in the charm, c'mon (Oh yeah)\nThirty-five dollars for a duff' (For a duff')\nNigga tryna buy the cash cost (Woo)\nPercy Miller, brazy with the woes\nThirty-five dollars for a duff' (For a duff')\nYou make it twerk for me\nYou get a purse from me\nEighty thousand dollars for her Birkin\nYou get a verse for free\nI make her worship me\nCopy it in bursts for me\nTurn to a P-I-M-P, I make her work for me\nYou don't want the bag, oh no, no, no\nI make her drop it and pop it and work it on my nose\nI make her shut up then suck it, she fuckin' at my shows, mmh\nI make her shut up, she fuckin', she suckin' at my shows, ayy"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsNo Way Lyrics\nYeah, Thugger\nLondon on da Track, nigga\nYeah, yeahhh\nYeah, yeah, yeah-ooh\nThugger\n\nThese pussy niggas peasants, yeah (What?)\nAll my niggas gon' be presidents, yeah (Here)\nBitch, I'm wrapped up like a present, yeah\nI got credit fuck a debit (Fuck it)\nAnd I'm the truth, this not no flexing\nI got, skinny jeans with a weapon\nAnd I'm the future and the present\nBaby, pop that pussy like a Pepsi (Pop it)\nBaby (Pop it), water like a water fountain\nMy money colored like a clown\nShow me them places like a noun\nShe can't, can't ride this dick without a sound\n\nNo, no, no way, no-no way (No way)\nNo, no, no way, no-no way (No way)\nNo, no, no way, no-no way (No way)\nNo-no way, no-no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no way no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no way no way, no-no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no-no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no-no way, no-no way\nYou might also like\nUh, I flood that bitch, she pop that pussy like a handstand\nI get them bricks and bales and go do the Saran dance\nI told that bitch suck my vienna out the can, man\nShe started doing it without a command\nI want you to feel this dick inside your hips\nAnd I wanna eat that pussy creamy like a dip (Uhm)\nHer pussy wetter than the bottom of a ship\nAnd I wanna make it clap without a clip\nPut your motherfucking hands in the sky (Put 'em up)\nThrow it up, plus I'm too drunky to drive\nWanna put that pussy, pussy in the sky-y (Sky)\nWanna make that pussy squirt without a try-y (Try)\nI might hit that pussy wrong and make it right-ight (Right)\nIf I start from the ground, I'll hit the sky-y (Sky)\nI wear big time glasses\nBut I got these bands like I'm fuckin' Ray-Ban bitch\n\nThese pussy niggas peasants, yeah\nAll my niggas gon' be presidents, yeah (Here)\nBitch, I'm wrapped up like a present, yeah\nI got credit fuck a debit (Fuck it)\nAnd I'm the truth, this not no flexing\nI got, skinny jeans with a weapon\nAnd I'm the future and the present\nBaby, pop that pussy like a Pepsi (Pop it)\nBaby, (Pop it) water like a water fountain\nMy money colored like a clown\nShow me them places like a noun\nShe can't, can't ride this dick without a sound\nNo, no, no way, no-no way (No way)\nNo, no, no way, no-no way (No way)\nNo, no, no way, no-no way (No way)\nNo-no way, no-no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no way no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no way no way, no-no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no-no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no-no way, no-no way\n\nI called my baby my shorty, I got her looking up\nI told that club I need fifty bands if they're booking her\nI woke up and ate it just like my chef was cooking her\nOr room service, watch out she at school nerdy\nWhat's up to Boo Dirty, walk 'round with a cool 30\nI don't care where they flying I just wanna know who birdy's\nBabe, don't waste no time, come on suck it's 2:30\nI left my bitch 'cause I found out she was too flirty (What?)\nYeah, I designed all of my pants\nI ain't give no damn I used to spending fifty bands\nYeah, green land Tarzan\nI got bitches piling up like we some yams\nShe wish she could get my dick inside a can\nI got three lil' boys which means that I'm the man\nI'ma pick my carats out a rabbit\nAnd I get mostly green like a salad\nThese pussy niggas peasants, yeah (What?)\nAll my niggas gon' be presidents, yeah (Here)\nBitch, I'm wrapped up like a present, yeah\nI got credit, fuck a debit (Fuck it)\nAnd I'm the truth, this not no flexing\nI got, skinny jeans with a weapon\nAnd I'm the future and the present\nBaby, pop that pussy like a Pepsi (Pop it)\nBaby (Pop it), water like a water fountain\nMy money colored like a clown\nShow me them places like a noun\nShe can't, can't ride this dick without a sound\n\nNo, no-no way, no-no way (No way)\nNo, no-no way, no-no way (No way)\nNo, no-no way, no-no way (No way)\nNo-no way, no-no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no way no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no way no way, no-no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no-no way, no-no way\nNo way, no way, no-no way, no-no way"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsKilled Before Lyrics\nWe got London On Da Track\n\nEveryone know I've been killed before\nI've been bent like a centerfold\nI crap with my money, no-oh\nDrop the top, get a breeze, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\nGot four million in jewelry, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa)\nLet that money fly to the ceiling, whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa-oh)\nDid you pay someone's tuition? No-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa-oh)\nDo you own a store? No-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa)\n\nYeah, fuck all this bullshit (Slatt)\nDiamonds for all us kings, yeah (Yah)\nGot my money, went Ludacris (Let's go)\nGive some racks to a hood bitch (Hoo)\nGive some racks to a pulpit (Woo)\nLook at the grain, it's wood, bitch\nOn the floor, it's a wool, bitch\nShe suck dick like a whole tick (Come on)\nDiamonds on me, they cold as shit (Phew)\nI thank God that I went legit (And what?)\nWhen we see 'em, you know we blitz (And what?)\nI can bet up, you know I'm rich (Let's go)\nShut the fuck up, nigga, bet up, you say you rich\nDifferent color diamonds, I'm a peacock\nDifferent color diamonds, I'm a peacock\nSpot full of birdies with no treetop\nYou know you my son, you can't be dad\nI bought the boat, the jet-skis\nGot an FN and a stick, don't test me\nI stacked them hundreds up to God knees\nI ain't goin' broke until 2070\nYou might also like\nEveryone know I've been killed before\nI've been bent like a centerfold (Whoa)\nI crap with my money, no-oh\nDrop the top, get a breeze, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\nGot four million in jewelry, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa)\nLet that money fly to the ceiling, whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa-oh)\nDid you pay someone's tuition? No-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa-oh)\nDo you own a store? No-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa)\n\nWe ain't lettin' these bitches get between us\nWe ain't lettin' no monkey niggas stand that close to us (Close to us)\nI ain't got no heart when it come down to my bro, yeah (Yeah)\nShe is not my dresser, she just iron my clothes, yeah (Thanks)\nPulled off in a Tesla, pulled back in a Porsche, yeah (Skrrt skrrt)\n'Bout this mozzarella, you'll get burnt like toast, yeah\nI get on that bullshit, you'll get extorted, yeah (Extorted)\nSix kids with me, didn't think 'bout abortions, yeah\nAyy, I took a thottie out of Magic\nTook her to the pent, then I woo-woo-woo, ayy\nThe private jet came with a stewardess\nLike ooh-ooh-ooh\nReady for war like a machine, ayy\nCame from pillies to post schemin'\nNow I got fifty hoes on they knees\nI put an X in my codeine (Oh-oh)\nBut I don't put nothing in my weed (Oh-oh)\nAnd I took a jet right overseas (Oh-oh)\nI want some head from overseas (Oh-oh)\nI caught a case, my jewelry seized (Oh-oh)\nI started off with fifty keys (Oh-oh)\nMy Bentayga clean like bleach (Oh-oh)\nOn a yacht with blue water and blue cheese\nOn this shit like fleas, ayy\nEveryone know I've been killed before\nI've been bent like a centerfold\nI crap with my money, no-oh\nDrop the top, get a breeze, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\nGot four million in jewelry, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa)\nLet that money fly to the ceiling, whoa-oh-oh-oh-oh (Whoa-oh)\nDid you pay someone's tuition? No-oh-oh-oh-oh\nDo you own a store? No-oh-oh-oh-oh\n\nAyy, I took a thottie out of Magic\nTook her to the pent, then I woo-woo-woo, ayy\nThe private jet came with a stewardess\nLike ooh-ooh-ooh"}
{"text":"Easy money\nIt's about to be a surgical summer\nChop the tops off the coupes\nThe cuatrociento' ochenta y ocho\nThe Spider joint\nAnd you know we gotta cut the heads off these snakes, right?\nWatch the body drop\n\nDrug dealin' aside, ghostwritin' aside\nLet's have a heart-to-heart about your pride\nEven though you're multi, I see that your soul don't look alive\nThe M's count different when Baby divides the pie, wait\nLet's examine why\nYour music for the past few years been angry and full of lies\nI'll start it at the home front, \"I'm On One\"\nDennis Graham stay off the 'Gram, bitch, I'm on one\nYou mention wedding ring like it's a bad thing\nYour father walked away at five\u2014hell of a dad thing\nMarriage is somethin' that Sandi never had, Drake\nHow you a winner but she keep comin' in last place?\nMonkey-suit Dennis, you parade him\nA Steve Harvey-suit nigga made him\nConfused, always felt you weren't Black enough\nAfraid to grow it 'cause your 'fro wouldn't nap enough\nSince you name-dropped my fianc\u00e9e\nLet 'em know who you chose as your Beyonc\u00e9\nSophie knows better as your baby mother\nCleaned her up for IG, but the stench is on her\nA baby's involved, it's deeper than rap\nWe talkin' character, let me keep with the facts\nYou are hiding a child, let that boy come home\nDeadbeat mothafucka playin' border patrol, ooh\nAdonis is your son\nAnd he deserves more than an Adidas press run; that's real\nLove that baby, respect that girl\nForget she's a pornstar, let her be your world, yuugh!\nHow dare you put Ye in my verses?\nI'm selfish, I want all of the curses\nI'm pre-bookin' the churches, me versus three hearses\nIf we all go to Hell, it'll be worth it\nAlready aligned with the greats, and on that same note\nThe only ones I chase are two ghosts\nStill givin' you classics, that's the only thing that dates me\nOVO 40, hunched over like he 80\u2014tick, tick, tick\nHow much time he got? That man is sick, sick, sick\nI got the devil flow, nigga\u2014six-six-six\nSurgical summer with it\u2014snip, snip, snip\nAnd you don't really want it with him\nYou might also like\nSurgical Summer, Volume 1\nWe gon' take this slow\nWe just gon' peel it back layer-by-layer\nYeah, DAYTONA\nAlbum of the motherfuckin' year\nAnd you talkin' 'bout you upset\nHahahahaha\nWell, I wanna see what it's like when you get angry, okay?\nYou show me that\nPush!"}
{"text":"\n(W-W-W-What is it?)\n\nTwenty-plus years of selling Johnson & Johnson\nI started out as a baby-faced monster\nNo wonder it's diaper rash on my conscience\nMy teething ring was numbed by that nonsense\nGem Star razor and a dinner plate\nArm & Hammer and a Mason jar, that's my dinner date\nThen crack the window in the kitchen, let it ventilate\n'Cause I let it sizzle on the stove like a minute steak\nNigga, I was crack in the school zone\nTwo beepers on me, Starter jacket that was two-toned\nFour lockers, four different bitches got they mule on\nBlack Ferris Bueller, cuttin' school with his jewels on\nCouldn't do wrong with a chest full of chains and an arm full of watches\nWhat I sell for pain in the hood, I'm a doctor\nZhivago, tried to fight the urge\nLike Ivan Drago, \"If he dies, he dies\"\nLike Doughboy to Tre, if he rides, he rides\nThrowin' punches in his room, if he cries, he cries\nWe don't drink away the pain when a nigga die\nWe add a link to the chain, inscribe a nigga name in your flesh\nWe playin' on a higher game of chess\nOnce you delegate his bills, who gon' fuck his bitch the best?\nA million megapixels of the Pyrex\nStarted on the scale, digital my only Timex\nNigga, this is timeless, simply 'cause it's honest\nPure as the fumes that be fuckin' with my sinus\nNigga, this is Simon Says, Simon Red\nBlood on your diamonds 'til you dyin', dead, yuugh\nYou might also like\nYou better change what comes out your speaker\nYou better change, ch-ch-change\nDee-dee-dee-dah, dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dah-dee-day, ayy (What is it?)\nYou wanna see a dead body?\nInstrumentals from my mama's Christmas party\nTrouble's on my mind\nI still smell crime, my little brother cryin'\nSmokers repeatedly buying my Sega Genesis\nEither that or my auntie was stealin' it\nHit the pipe and start feelin' it\nOoh-wee, cut me some slack, weed never did that\nThis was different, jeez louise, please help me relax\nQuantum physics could never show you the world I was in\nWhen I was ten, back when nine ounces had got you ten\nAnd nine times out of ten, niggas don't pay attention\nAnd when it's tension in the air, nines come with extensions\nMy daddy turned a quarter-piece to a four and a half\nTook an L, started sellin' soap fiends bubble bath\nBroke his nails misusin' his pinky to treat his nose\nShirt buttoned open, taco meat laying on his gold\nI said, \"Daddy, one day, I'ma get you right with thirty-six zips\nOne thousand grams of cocaine, then your name will be rich\nNow you can rock it up or sell it soft as leather interior\nDrop some ice cubes in it, Deebo on perimeter\"\nHe said, \"Son, how come you think you'll be my connect?\"\nI said, \"Pops, your ass is washed up, with all due respect\"\nHe said, \"Well, nigga, then show me how it all makes sense\"\nGo figure, motherfucker, every verse is a brick\nYour son dope, nigga\nNow reap what you sowed, nigga (Please reap what you sowed, nigga)\nI was born in '87, my granddaddy a legend\nNow the same shit that y'all was smokin' is my profession, let's get it\nYou better change what comes out your speaker\nYou better change, ch-change, ch-change, ch-change\nYou better change what comes out your speaker\nTh-Th-Th-Th-Th-They must be on the dick of who?\nTh-Th-Th-Th-Th-They must be on the dick of who?"}
{"text":"Infrared, yeah, you know what I mean?\nInfrared, yeah, you know what I mean?\n\nThe game's fucked up\nNiggas\u2019 beats is bangin', nigga, ya hooks did it\nThe lyric pennin' equal the Trumps winnin\u2019\nThe bigger question is how the Russians did it\nIt was written like Nas, but it came from Quentin\nAt the mercy of a game where the codes is missin'\nWhen the CEO's blinded by the glow it's different\nBelieve in myself and the Coles and Kendricks\nLet the sock puppets play in their roles and gimmicks\nShit, remember Will Smith won the first Grammy?\nAnd they ain't even recognize Hov until \"Annie\"\nSo I don't tap dance for the crackers and sing Mammy\n'Cause I'm \u2019posed to juggle these flows and nose candy (yugh)\nFerrari, my 40th, blew the candles out\nTom Brady\u2019d you niggas, I had to scramble out\nThey be ridin' these waves, I pulled my sandals out\nJefe Latin my Grammy, I went the Spanish route\nOh, now it\u2019s okay to kill Baby?\nNiggas looked at me crazy like I really killed a baby\nSalute Ross 'cause the message was pure\nHe see what I see when you see Wayne on tour\nFlash without the fire\nAnother multi-platinum rapper trapped and can't retire\nNiggas get exposed, I see the cracks and I'm the liar?\nShit, I\u2019ve been exposed, I took the crack and built the wire\nNow who do you admire?\nYour rap songs is all tryin' my patience\nThem prices ain't real without inflation\nI done flew it, I done grew it, been a conduit\nMoynat bags on my bitches, I done blew it\nSee through it, neck, igloo it\nHabla en espa\u00f1ol, I \"y tu\" it\nLet Steven talk streamin' and Shazam numbers\nI'll ensure that you gettin' every gram from us\nLet's cram numbers, easily\nThe only rapper sold more dope than me was Eazy-E\nHow could you ever right these wrongs\nWhen you don't even write your songs?\nBut let us all play along\nWe all know what niggas for real been waitin' on\nPush\nYou might also like\nI do, so, yeah\nInfrared, yeah, you know what I mean?\nInfrared, yeah, you know what I mean?\nInfrared, yeah, you know what I mean?\nInfrared, yeah, you know what I mean?\nI'm gone, I'm gone, you hear me?\nI'm gone"}
{"text":"Ha ha ha ha ha\n\nBeef is best served like steak: well done\nGet a gun in your face, bitch nigga\nBeef will have you praying to God\nMove your kids, have you hiding your mom\nBeef is when you hide behind them other niggas\nBut they ain't killers they ain't pullin' them triggers, fuck niggas\nBeef will have you keying our cars\nHeartbroke, yours don't look like ours\n\nThem niggas ain't dying for you\nThem niggas ain't dying for you\nThrowing that flag up running around you hot shit\nTaking half of everything you get\nYeah them niggas ain't dying for you\nThem niggas ain't dying for you\nAnd we know that\n\nContract all fucked up\nI guess that means you all fucked up\nYou signed to one nigga that signed to another nigga\nThat's signed to three niggas, now that's bad luck\nDamn that shit even the odds now\nYou better off selling this hard now\nYou call it living out your dreams\nYou can't fly without your wings\nYou get it\nJeremy Scott's all camouflaged\nYou can't hide it from yourselves, career sabotaged\nI was really in that Travelodge\nYou just lying through your catalogues\nWhere the blood and the battle scars\nWe the ones that judge juggling the gavels on\nPut me to the body, nigga\nFirst 48 put us to them bodies, nigga\nRound here we don't play that\nA to the K that, spray that, lay back\nYou can keep your beats, nigga\nWe'd much rather share your bitch, nigga, bitch nigga\n3 million can't hide that\nIt shows in the homes I done tried that\nThat's why you'll never be my neighbors\nSmile as you waving but we know you niggas hate us\nFuck you playing games for\nDon't be scared get everything you came for\nThey got you talking that big shit\nLittle do you know we don't miss shit\nThem niggas using you as a pawn\nYou see they never loaded they guns\nNow you out here all by yourself\nAsk Steve Jobs, wealth don't buy health\nYou might also like\nBeef is best served like steak: well done\nGet a gun in your face, bitch nigga\nBeef will have you praying to God\nMove your kids, have you hiding your mom\nBeef is when you hide behind them other niggas\nBut they ain't killers they ain't pullin' them triggers, fuck niggas\nBeef will have you keying our cars\nHeartbroke, yours don't look like ours\n\nThem niggas ain't dying for you\nThem niggas ain't dying for you\nThrowing that flag up running around you hot shit\nTaking half of everything you get\nYeah them niggas ain't dying for you\nThem niggas ain't dying for you\nAnd we know that\n\nWhat's beef? Beef is when you need 2 Gats to go to sleep\nBeef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets\nBeef is when I see you\nGuaranteed to be in ICU, one more time\nWhat's beef? Beef is when you need 2 Gats to go to sleep\nBeef is when your moms ain't safe up in the streets\nBeef is when I see you\nGuaranteed to be in ICU, one more time"}
{"text":"Niggas talkin' shit, Push\u2014how do you respond?\n\nI'm top five and all of them Dylan\nI am the hope, the dope dealers won\nPrice and the quote, the dope dealers want\nFeds takin' pictures like it's GQ (GQ)\nThis Avianne collarbone is see-through\nAngel on my shoulder, \"What should we do?\" (We do)\nDevil on the other, \"What would Meek do?\"\nPop a wheelie, tell the judge to Akinyele\nMiddle fingers out the Ghost, screamin' \"Makaveli\" (Come with me)\nHail Mary, the scale fairy\nTwo sides to every coin so we bail ready (Bail ready)\nHow do you respond?\nI let the monies and the fools talk\nI let the jewels and the hues talk\nWatch face came with a fuse box (Fuse box)\nChanel's on ya bitch\nThe coupe is 320, the roof's hit or miss\nMurder on the highway, the news is at six\nSee, I did it my way, the proof's in the bricks\nEghck! Smell it through the Tupperware (Tupperware)\nTwo can get you four like a double dare (Woo!)\nI'm the king of the oven-ware (Oven-ware)\nYou can piece the whole puzzle here\nYou might also like\nNiggas talkin' shit, 'Ye\u2014how do you respond?\n\nPoop, scoop!\nWhoop! Whoopty-whoop!\nAm I too complex for ComplexCon?\nEverything Ye say cause a new debate\n\"You see, he been out of touch, he cannot relate\nHis hallway too long, bitch too bad\nGot a surrogate, his kid get two dads\"\nI be thinkin', \"What would 2Pac do?\"\nYou be thinkin' what New Kids on the Block do\nIf you ain't drivin' while Black, do they stop you?\nWill MAGA hats let me slide like a drive-thru?\nThat phone call from Ricky still hazy\nWhen heaven got an angel named Avery\nYou gotta watch who you callin' crazy\nYeezy, the newest billion-dollar baby\nIt won't feel right 'til I feel like Phil Knight\nGoin' for six rings like what Phil told Mike\nSeven pill nights, who know what that feel like?\nNo more hidin' the scars, I show 'em like Seal, right?\nHow do you respond?"}
{"text":"Come on, let's toast the champagne, this one's for the life\nDid everything you could just to be here for the night\nMan, it feels good, everything is right\nEnergy is strong enough to brighten city lights\nMy whole team winnin', no vision on quittin'\nI'd rather say I did than let them busters say I didn't\nLe-le-let them talk about it, mane, I'm already livin'\nI risked my life to try every day to go and get it, get it, get it\n\nCame from the bottom, no one said it would be fair\nNow I'm on this money, loungin' like it's a beach chair\nPapa don't preach, a-all we do is just reach here\nRaised 'round killers, we just happy to be here\nSpot 'em, got 'em, let your soul pay your dues\nWhile my hoes doin' magic, voodoo Moulin Rouge\nThat's a tactic that they use, fuck 'em high, then suck 'em dry\nBefore you know it, her Q7 is buzzin' by\nThe queen pin to the kingpin, redeems him\nThe boat comes, the dope drums, my team wins\n\nYuugh, this the life that we made\nGunshots in the dark like a sweet serenade\nYou might also like\nCome on, let's toast the champagne, this one's for the life\nDid everything you could just to be here for the night\nMan, it feels good, everything is right\nEnergy is strong enough to brighten city lights\nMy whole team winnin', no vision on quittin'\nI'd rather say I did than let them busters say I didn't\nLe-le-let them talk about it, mane, I'm already livin'\nI risked my life to try every day to go and get it, get it, get it\n\nSupreme ballers, all my niggas got ESPYs\nTriple doubles, both wrist and neck freeze\nTriple doubles, two bricks and tech squeeze\nTriple doubles, two hoes and check please (Woo)\nThey love me on my Ric Flair shit (Woo)\nIn that Phantom like I'm Blair Witch (Woo)\nWho are you to be compared with? (Woo)\nAin't no niggas that you bled with\nCourt cases ran base and road aces\nLick shots or left bodies with no traces\n\nYuugh, this the life that we made\nGunshots in the dark like a sweet serenade\nCome on, let's toast the champagne, this one's for the life\nDid everything you could just to be here for the night\nMan, it feels good, everything is right\nEnergy is strong enough to brighten city lights\nMy whole team winnin', no vision on quittin'\nI'd rather say I did than let them busters say I didn't\nLe-le-let them talk about it, mane, I'm already livin'\nI risked my life to try every day to go and get it, get it, get it\n\nLook, my ouija board don't never lie to me\nThe best rapper livin', I know who's alive to me\nYeah, the competition's all but died to me\nRaah, I make these motherfuckers hide from me\nThe Sergio Tacchini life we uphold\nYou just posin' for them pics so you can upload\n\nYuugh, this the life that we made\nGunshots in the dark like a sweet serenade, nigga\n\nCome on, let's toast the champagne, this one's for the life\nDid everything you could just to be here for the night\nMan, it feels good, everything is right\nEnergy is strong enough to brighten city lights\nMy whole team winnin', no vision on quittin'\nI'd rather say I did than let them busters say I didn't\nLe-le-let them talk about it, mane, I'm already livin'\nI risked my life to try every day to go and get it, get it, get it"}
{"text":"Valentino summers and wave runners\nChains on my niggas like slave runners\nDrug dealers anonymous\nHow many Madonnas can that Mazda fit?\nMy brick talk is more than obvious, it\u2019s ominous\nGarages, the phantom, ghouls, ghosts and goblins\nBlonde mohawk the collection I\u2019m Dennis Rodman\nThe money count is the only moment of silence\nCause hush money balances all this drugs and violence\nHat trick under my mattress\nDate I stop still has an asterisk after it\nAfter all I can make a call\nI can baptize a brick\nAs I wash away my sins like a catholic\nWho the fuck ain't mastered this\nAmerica\u2019s nightmare's in Flint\nChildren of a lesser God when your melanin\u2019s got a tint\nAnd I can\u2019t even mention what I sent or what I spent\n'Cause my name in 18 wheelers is evidence\nI put my boos in those cruise collections\nLife\u2019s a bitch\nA to Z on her shoe collection, take your pick\nPaid in full like \u201986, Gs on my body\nThe new Gucci has less monograms, God\u2019s got him\nLet he without sin cast the first stone\nSo I built that all glass quad level first home\nShatter all of your misconceptions\nHold all of them missing weapons\nYou thought I would miss my blessing\nThe ultimate misdirection ya\nYou might also like\nYour husband was a drug dealer\nFor 14 years he sold crack cocaine\n\nFederico Fellini in the flesh\nSergio Tacchini inside his mesh\nBitch I been brackin\u2019 since the \u201880s\nGoogle me baby, you crazy\n\u201989 in London pull the Benz up\nType it in, Google\u2019s your friend bruh\n14-year drug dealer and still counting\nWho deserves the medal of freedom is my accountant\nHe been hula hooping through loop holes, working around shit\nIRS should\u2019ve had the townhouses surrounded\nThanks to the lawyers\nI marbled the foyer\nI tore the floor up\nYeah, that\u2019s for the Koi fish\nWe been dining on oysters\nI walk though the garage it\u2019s like multiple choices\nI told \u2018em pull the Royce up\nI\u2019m getting ghost, I\u2019m hearing noises\nI think it\u2019s the boys, but I been banking at Deutsche\nWe got storefronts, we got employee stubs\nWe been opening studios and 40\/40s up\nThe paper trail is gorgeous\nCases we buries \u2018em\nBefore Reasonable Doubt dropped, the jury hung\nBling bling\nEvery time I come around your city bling bling\nMy tenure took me through Virginia\nAsk Teddy Riley \u2018bout me\nAsk the Federalis \u2018bout me\nTried to build a cell around me\nSnatched my nigga Emory up\nTried to get him to tell about me\nHe told 12, \u201cGimme 12\u201d\nHe told them to go to hell about me\nDrug dealers anonymous\nY\u2019all think Uber\u2019s the future, our cars been autonomous\nMules move the drums, take \u2018em to different spots\nWe just call the shots by simply moving our thumbs\nI\u2019m a course of miracles with this shit\nNothing real can be threatened, nothing unreal exists\nTherein lies the piece of God\nI always knew I was a prophet, but I couldn\u2019t find a decent job\nLife made me ambidextrous\nCountin\u2019 with my right, whippin\u2019 white with my left wrist\nDaaaaaaaamn Daniel\nFBI keep bringing them all white vans through"}
{"text":"(Yeah)\nHow you feelin'? (Fine)\nYou feel alright?\n\nI'm so bossy, bitch, get off me (Yeah)\nIt's a different jingle when you hear these car keys (Y'all feel like danc\u2014)\nYour SL's missin' an S, nigga (Y'all feel like danc\u2014)\nYour plane's missin' a chef\nThe common theme, see, they both got wings\nIf you fly, do it to death\nIt's only one God, and it's only one crown\nSo it's only one king that can stand on this mound (Yeah)\nKing Push, kingpin, overlord\nCoast Guard come, a hundred goin' overboard (Yeah)\nI got money with the best of 'em\nGo blow-for-blow with any Mexican\nDon't let your side bitches settle in\nMight have to headbutt your Evelyn\nBallers, I put numbers on the boards\nHard to get a handle on this double-edged sword\nWhether rappin' or I'm rappin' to a whore\nMight reach back and relapse to wrappin' up this raw (Y'all feel like danc\u2014)\nGivenchy fittin' like it's gym clothes\nWe really gym stars, I'm like D. Rose\nNo D-League, I'm like this close\n'88 Jordan, leapin' from the free-throw (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nBallers, I put numbers on the boards\nBallers, I put numbers on the boards\n\nMotherfuckers can't rhyme no more, 'bout crime no more\nMix drug and show money, \"Biggs\" Burke on tour  (Yeah)\nTwenty-five bricks, move work like chore\nHit Delaware twice, needed twenty-five more\nI see flaw, cracks in your diamond\nCB4 when you rhyme, Simple Simon\nCome and meet the pieman, a must that I flaunt it\nThe legend grows legs when it comes back to haunt us\nBallers, I put numbers on the boards (Yeah)\nCan't a bitch livin' say I bought her Michael Kors (Yeah)\nEvery car driven was decided by the horse\nKeep the sticker in the window case you wonder what it cost\nHow could you relate when you ain't never been great\nAnd rely on rap money to keep food up on your plates, nigga?\nI might sell a brick on my birthday\nThirty-six years of doin' dirt like it's Earth Day\u2014 God!\n\n(Y'all feel like danc\u2014)\n(Y'all feel like danc\u2014)\nBallers, I put numbers on the boards\n(Y'all feel like danc\u2014)"}
{"text":"Pullin' up in that new toy\nThe wrist on that boy rockstar like Pink Floyd\nWaving at rude boy, I'm wavin' at you, boy\nRan off on the plug too like Trugoy\nImagine me do-boy, you could never do what I do, boy\nStill, duckin' shit that I did, boy\nNiggas in Paris 'fore Hit-Boy\nThese ain't the same type of hits, boy\nShit can get litter than lit, boy\nYou don't take these type of risks, boy\n'Cause this boy been throwin' that D like Rich Boy\nYou missed, boy; ya numbers don't add up on the blow\nThat was ten years ago \u2013 if you know, you know (Yeah)\n\nIf you know, you know\nIf you know, you know\n\nThis thing of ours, oh, this thing of ours\nA fraternity of drug dealers ringin' off\nI just happen to be alumni\nToo legit, they still lookin' at me with one eye\nThe company I keep is not corporate enough\nChild Rebel Soldier, you ain't orphan enough\nA rapper turned trapper can't morph into us\nBut a trapper turned rapper can morph into Puff\nDance contest for the smokers\nI predict snow, Al Roker\n(If you know, you know)\nI only ever looked up to Sosa\nYou all get a bird, this nigga Oprah\nYou might also like\nBricklayers in ball shorts\nCoachin' from the side of the ball courts\n(If you know, you know)\nOne stop like a Walmart\nWe got the tennis balls for the wrong sport\n(If you know, you know)\nIf you know 'bout the carport\nThe trap door's supposed to be awkward\n(If you know, you know)\nThat's the reason we ball for\nCircle round twice for the encore\n(If you know, you know)\n\nYou ever been hit with the water weight\nThen had to weigh, \"Do you war or wait?\"\n(If you know, you know)\nWhen we all clickin' like Golden State\nAnd you and your team are the motorcade\n(If you know, you know)\nBeen grantin' wishes like a genie\nTo bad hoes in two-piece bikinis\nI've been hidin' where you can see me\nThe skybox is right next to RiRi's\nSolely responsible for showin' rappers how to stand\nOn the front lines when trappers started throwin' bands\nWhere were you when Big Meech brought the tigers in?\n'Cause I was busy earnin' stripes like a tiger's skin\nBricklayers in ball shorts\nCoachin' from the side of the ball courts\n(If you know, you know)\nOne stop like a Walmart\nWe got the tennis balls for the wrong sport\n(If you know, you know)\nIf you know 'bout the carport\nThe trap door supposed to be awkward\n(If you know, you know)\nThat's the reason we ball for\nCircle 'round twice for the encore\n(If you know, you know)"}
{"text":"It's the blackout, 'Rari got the back out\nShowing my black ass, engine in the glass house\nStarted in the crack house, Obama went the back route\nKill bin Laden, 'nother four up in the black house\nStill got the Macs out, pull the mask down like a mascot\nStill trick with bitches, out with money or with ass shots\nGOOD had room for one more, I took the last spot\nRe-Up Gang, P the nigga, 'Ye done hit the jackpot\nWhole 'nother level, then you add fame\nThat's a whole 'nother devil, legit drug dealer\nThat's a whole 'nother bezel, the carbon Audemar\nThat's a whole 'nother metal, but still keep it ghetto\n(Whoo!) Behind the scenes, pull strings like Gepetto\nThe gun blow steam, whistle like a tea kettle\nRunnin' like the rebels, UNLV\nSport shoe on a pedal, I let you niggas settle (Yeah)\n\nTrouble on my mind\nI got trouble on my mind (on my mind)\nTrouble on my mind\nSo much trouble on my mind (on my mind)\nTrouble on my mind\nI got trouble on my mind (on my mind)\nTrouble on my mind\nSo much trouble on my mind (on my mind)\nYou might also like\nPharrell said \"get 'em\", so I got 'em\nTripped on Bristol Palin then I accidentally shot 'em\nThen it ricocheted and killed the game, I'm a problem\n'Cause I wanna fuck the world but not a fan of using condoms\nPardon my French, I'm going hard as my dick\nWhen I envision my tip on the crust of bitch lips\nMr. Lipschitz has been trippin'\nSince I mentioned Reptar triceratops dinosaur dick\nI feel it in my gut to kill these muthafucks\nIs a must, like the arm of my pits\nYou niggas coming shorter than a Bushwick Billy costume\nOn sale during Christmas in Philly\nUm, well, not really, it's getting kinda chilly\nLet's hit a couple bars and give some bitches wet willies\nSoaked, getting jiggy with it in Bel-Air's richest\nWith a bag of pills, couple berries and a biscuit\n\nTrouble on my mind\nI got trouble on my mind (on my mind)\nTrouble on my mind\nSo much trouble on my mind\nTrouble on my mind\nI got trouble on my mind\nTrouble on my mind\nSo much trouble on my mind\nI'm a fucking walking paradox\nAnd a really shitty rapper in my favorite pair of socks\nIroned pair of dockers, two Glocks cocked screamin', \"West side!\"\nWith the speakers blastin' a pair of Pacs\nYonkers 10 milli, you're silly\nThinkin' that this 'preme wasn't free, willy\nThe feeling is neutral, the gang is youthful\nAnd fuckin' tighter than Chad Hugo's pupils, it's Wolf Gang and the\n\nWith the Re-Up's a helluva buzz\nRick James said cocaine's a helluva drug\nWho else could put the hipsters with felons and thugs\nAnd paint a perfect picture of what sellin' it does?\nThis is for the critics, who doubted the chemistry\nTwo different worlds, same symmetry\nAnd this black art, see the wizardry when you at the top\nOf your game, you make enemies, you'll never finish me\n\nTrouble on my mind\nI got trouble on my mind\nTrouble on my mind\nSo much trouble on my mind"}
{"text":"Now that the tears dry and the pain takes over\nLet's talk this payola (Payola)\nYou killed God's baby when it wasn't his will\nAnd blood spill, we can't talk this shit over (This shit over)\nThe Lord is my shepherd, I am not sheep\nI am just a short stone's throw from the streets\nI bring my offerin', I will not preach\nAwaken my demons, you can hear that man screaming\nI'm no different than the priest, priest\nSanter\u00eda (Santer\u00eda, Santer\u00eda, Santer\u00eda)\n\nThey say that death comes in threes, how appropriate ('Propriate)\nTriple back, they rush in like Soviets (Soviets)\nAt the Kremlin\nSearchin' for the green like a Gremlin, presidential emblem\nPresidential tint on this shit that I am driven in (Woo!)\nI just place orders and drop dollars\nRottweilers roam the grounds, the Glock hollers\nThe three of y'all too accessible\nSeen all the wrong moves, watchin' The Untouchables\nWe don't do vegetables, niggas get flatlined\nWelcome all beef, then we heat 'em with flat irons\nYour plans are backfiring, think of double-crossin' a priest\nHail Mary, repeat after me\nSanter\u00eda!\nYou might also like\nYa te vas a la ma\u00f1ana (Ma\u00f1ana)\nHa-ah, los \u00e1ngeles te esperar\u00e1n\nEs el fuego que yo\u2014conozco\nEs el fuego que yo\u2014\nYa te vas a la ma\u00f1ana (Ma\u00f1ana)\nHa-ah, los \u00e1ngeles te esperar\u00e1n\nEs el fuego que yo\u2014conozco\nEs el fuego que yo\u2014\n\nOf all the things I've ever paid for\nKnow that it's no price tag when I wage war\nIt's no more to pray for, niggas get preyed on\nDarken my doorstep, they told me the day's gone\nYou listenin', De'Von?\nAs I'm talkin' to your spirit, for God's sakes\nI'm dealin' with heartbreak\nCheckin' my ego, I'm livin' with lost faith\nI'm backin' this hit, nigga, you ever seen Shark Tank?\nI paid 'em in small bills, all of 'em small face\nI bet when we draw blood, you niggas will draw a blank\nDress you in all black, partnered with All Saints\nOur numbers is all facts, my shooters give all thanks\nAnd all praise, no jail bars can save\nLeave you like Malcolm where X marks your grave\nHey, it's probably better this way\nIt's cheaper when the chaplain prays\nSanter\u00eda!\nYa te vas a la ma\u00f1ana (Ma\u00f1ana)\nHa-ah, los \u00e1ngeles te esperar\u00e1n\nEs el fuego que yo\u2014conozco\nEs el fuego que yo\u2014"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsTrust You Lyrics\nAy unno\nMe? Me get every bloodclot ting\nAh him ah mind me, ah him bring di money come gimmie\nYuh no see mi titty dem how dem stiff an tun up? Ah him buy dem gimmie\nYuh no see how mi batty cock up an firm? Ah him buy it gimmie\nYuh no see mi big house wid car an land? Ah him buy it gimmie\nSo tell me, weh would I want wid unno skettle bald people mon?\nNuttin\n\nThese women ain't shit but hoes with tricks\nBaby girl, you different\nWhen you're not around, it feels like something's missing\nAnd I know you keep it real\nNever tell no lie\nKnow you heard what they say\nTrue love is hard to find\nI just might trust you with my drugs\nTrust you with my money\nJust might trust you with my drugs\nMight trust you with my money\nGirl, I'll trust you with my drugs\nMight trust you with my money\nMight just trust you with my drugs\nMight trust you with my money, girl\nYou might also like\nStarted out as just a fuck mission\nWho'd have thought I would've fucked with ya\nDope boy, they got trust issues\nNever imagined being stuck with you\nYears later, we in the villa suites\nTop back, we on vanilla seats\nReminiscing about my episodes\nWith them extra hoes, but you didn't cheat\nCold nights when you couldn't sleep\nCeline bags were the given treat\nC-Class helped you see past\nAll them other hoes, and that they niggas weak\nWhoo! I'm good money\nGot you talking in dollar signs\nIt's all good that she the top bitch\nBut she just wanna know the bottom line\nI don't blame her, I don't change her\nI just sit back and give her options\nPhillip Lim, Derek Lam\nEvery baller gotta know she's sponsored\nWhoo! You earned that\nNow where the fuck did you learn that?\nWe turnt up, we turnt out\nWe too far gone to ever turn back\nThese women ain't shit but hoes with tricks\nBaby girl, you different\nWhen you're not around, it feels like something's missing\nAnd I know you keep it real\nNever tell no lie\nKnow you heard what they say\nTrue love is hard to find\nI just might trust you with my drugs\nTrust you with my money\nJust might trust you with my drugs\nMight trust you with my money\nGirl, I'll trust you with my drugs\nMight trust you with my money\nMight just trust you with my drugs\nMight trust you with my money, girl\n\nLocked phones, past tense\nPass codes, we past this\nPass time, Presidential\nRolexes, both sexes\nBlue bezel we both flexing\nBig diamonds, we Bowflexing\nPitch dope, touch down\nBoth sports, I'm Bo Jackson\nYour bitch fronting, that's you\nMy bitch stunting, that's me\nI break it down, then break her off\nI'm breaking bread, and that's key\nWe everything that they talk about\nKnow them haters be watching\nThem bitches lurking -- your page locked\nAnd they still know when you shopping\nThey still know that I'm balling\nYou still know that I'm all in\nYour ex nigga, your next nigga\nGon' hate the fact that I'm spoiling\nWhoo! But you earned that\nNow where the fuck did you learn that?\nWe turnt up, we turnt out\nWe too far gone to ever turn back\nThese women ain't shit but hoes with tricks\nBaby girl, you different\nWhen you're not around, it feels like something's missing\nAnd I know you keep it real\nNever tell no lie\nKnow you heard what they say\nTrue love is hard to find\nI just might trust you with my drugs\nTrust you with my money\nJust might trust you with my drugs\nMight trust you with my money\nGirl, I'll trust you with my drugs\nMight trust you with my money\nMight just trust you with my drugs\nMight trust you with my money, girl\n\nPlease don't mind\nI just need some time\nThese requirements\nJust gotta make sure you meet all mine\nStanding there staring, with your bow-legged stance\nTrust being nothing you could hold in your hand\nHustle in the hood, strong with the bands\nLook at you as something more than a ho I could smash\nOr being something bad I could bone at the bag\nPole in my pants standing at attention\nWhen you step out of the shower and your ass is wiggling\nGlance at the ceiling\nNow your glass is empty\nThinking backwards, really\nI done grabbed a vixen\nThat supposed to be a fitter after video\nStacks'll really blow\nDancers get exposed\nMissing you when you not around\nWe text each other when out of town\nYou remain the same no matter up or down\nThese other women stay pretending\nMoney come and they help us spend it\nBut'll fuck my niggas in the very minute\nI was down and out and had to go to prison\nKinda high role play, acki\nAnd again I say I like these hoes"}
{"text":"Drug dealer Benzes with gold diggers in 'em\nIn elevator condos, on everything I love\n\nThis ain't a wave or phase, 'cause all that shit fades\nThis lifestyle's forever when you made\nThey tweet about the length I made 'em wait\nWhat the fuck you expect\nWhen a nigga got a cape and he's great?\nOven's full of cakes that he bakes, still spreadin' paste\nThe love just accentuates the hate\nThis is for my bodybuildin' clients movin' weight\nJust add water, stir it like a shake\nPlay amongst the stars like the roof in the Wraith\nGet the table next to mine, make our bottle servers race\n\nThese are the games we play, we are the names they say\nThis is the drug money your ex-nigga claim he makes\n\nTo all of my young niggas, I am your Ghost and your Rae\nThis is my Purple Tape, save up for rainy days\nAnd baby mama wishes, along with the side bitches\nThey try to coexist, end up wishin' you'd die, bitches\nStood on every couch, in the A at the black party\nNo jewelry on, but you richer than everybody\nYou laugh a little louder, the DJ say your name a little prouder\nAnd we don't need a globe to show you the world is ours\nWe can bet a hundred thousand with my safe hold\nMy numbers lookin' like a bank code\nYou might also like\nThese are the games we play, we are the names they say\nThis is the drug money your ex-nigga claim he makes\n\nAin't no stoppin' this champagne from poppin'\nThe draws from droppin', the laws from watchin'\nWith Ye back choppin', the cars and the women come with options\nCaviar facials remove the toxins\nThis ain't for the conscious, this is for the mud-made monsters\nWho grew up on legends from outta Yonkers\nInfluenced by niggas straight outta Compton, the scale never lies\nI'm two-point-two incentivised\nIf you ain't energized like the bunny for drug money\nOr been paralyzed by the sight of a drug mummy\nThis ain't really for you, this is for the Goya Montoya\nWho said I couldn't stop, then afforded me all the lawyers\nThe only kingpin who ain't sinkin'\nChess moves are made, my third eye ain't blinkin\nStay woke, nigga, or get out\nStill pull them whips out, still spread the chips out\nMight buy your bitch some new hips and yank her rib out\nThe message in this music, all my niggas had to live out\n\nThese are the games we play, we are the names they say\nThis is the drug money your ex-nigga claim he makes, yah!"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsBlocka Lyrics\nDis type ah shit happen everyday\nAll dem a gwaan dem heart softer than clay\nNone ah dem have the guts to rise it and spray\nNone ah dem have the guts to bust the SK\n\nI got diamonds on my blocka\nServe it to my flocka\nYeah, that's my flocka\nTo my flocka\nPray to Lord on my shotta\nShe be proper\nYeah, that's my flocka\n\nAll praise to the most high on both sides\nI pray to God, I pray for hard, I won't lie\nMulti cause I'm dope-tied, convo and a boat ride\nRent-a-cars for the whole month, drop Porsche money, no co-sign\nYuugh, my records ain't got to sell, nigga\nWoo, go diamond off of my cell, nigga\nGive a fuck what you sells, that chance come, I take mine\nI ball hard, you bench ride, so fuck you and yo' baseline\nNo Soundscan for a bricklayer, square nigga, you a brick hater\nWe see a bitch, you fall in love, I fall back cause my bitch date her\nWhere I'm from, we go crazy with them choppas\nSellin' dope, goin' diamond on my blocka\nYou might also like\nI got diamonds on my blocka\nServe it to my flocka\nYeah, that's my flocka\nTo my flocka\nPray to Lord on my shotta\nShe be proper\nYeah, that's my flocka\n\nWelcome to my blocka, take a look at my world\nDiamond on my blocka, all we got is white girl\nAll we got is choppas, all you hear is choppas\nAll we see is choppas, that spotlight on my blocka\nDopeboy to the rescue, bad bitches get the best view\nLotta money just floatin' round, all them hoes feelin' special\nWoo, I know the rent due, fuck me right and it's sent through\nThird time you done used the line, God damn, she a pimp, too\nTeamwork make the dream work, all my niggas done seen work\nAll my niggas ain't make it through, so much death that my dreams hurt\nWhere I'm from, we go crazy with them choppas\nSellin' dope, goin' diamond on my blocka\n\nI got diamonds on my blocka\nServe it to my flocka\nYeah, that's my flocka\nTo my flocka\nPray to Lord on my shotta\nShe be proper\nYeah, that's my flocka"}
{"text":"You supposed to put the first five hundred in the safe and lose the combination\nNeck and wrist don't lie\nNeck and wrist don't lie\n\nFirst in the Beach with a million-dollar auto\nBring the cameraman, we can shoot our own Narcos\nI promise you the floor plan's nothin' like the model\nNeck and wrist don't lie\nNeck and wrist don't lie\n\nThe money counter ding is so exciting\nSummertime, Winterfell, I'm the Night King\nThe Colgate kilo, the hood needs whitening (Skrrt)\nWe fishscale niggas like we all Pisces\nYour bitch in my bubble like I'm still typing\nShe hopin' that you let her go like a kite string\nYour eco-friendly jewelers, you keep recycling\nCartier bustdowns just not my thing\nThe B in the center of that left and right wing\nThe only time you'll ever see me next to Breitling (Skrrt)\nWonder where this started from, the facts are frightening\nRichard Pryor's flame gave birth to pipe dreams, now we here\nYou might also like\nFirst in the Beach with a million-dollar auto\nBring the cameraman, we can shoot our own Narcos\nI promise you the floor plan's nothin' like the model\nNeck and wrist don't lie\nNeck and wrist don't lie\n\nAnd the dope house had a line, dope house had a line\nAnd the dope house had a line, dope house had a line\nAnd the dope house had a line, dope house had a line\nAnd the dope house had a line, dope house had a line\n(And the dope house had a line, dope house had a line\nAnd the dope house had a line, dope house had a line)\n\nThe phase I'm on, love, I wouldn't believe it either\nI'd be like, \"JAY-Z's a cheater,\" I wouldn't listen to reason either\nAll I know is E's a felon, how is he sellin'?\nWeed, the Caliva brothers, deep down, I believe you love us, huh\nFeast your eyes, the piece unique, it's sapphire\nRappers liars, I don't do satire\nNeither I nor my wrist move mockingly\nY'all spend real money on fake watches, shockingly\nThey put me on lists with these niggas inexplicably\nI put your mansion on my wall, are you shittin' me?\nI blew bird money, y'all talkin' Twitter feed\nWe got different Saab stories, save your soliloquies\nThey like, \"If BIG was alive, Hov wouldn't be in his position\"\nIf BIG had survived, y'all would have got The Commission\nHov was gon' always be Hov\nIt 'twas the universe will 'cause Allah said so, and now I'm here\nFirst in the Beach with a million-dollar auto\nBring the cameraman, we can shoot our own Narcos\nI promise you the floor plan's nothin' like the model\nNeck and wrist don't lie\nNeck and wrist don't lie"}
{"text":"Never trust a bitch who finds love in a camera\nShe will fuck you, then turn around and fuck a janitor\nSet the parameters\nYou either with the pro ballers or the amateurs\nI won't let you ruin my dreams or Harvey Weinstein the kid\nGood mornin', Matt Lauer\u2014can I live?\nLook at my new digs\nThe rooftop can host a paint-and-sip for, like, forty\nThe Warhols on my wall paint a war story\nHad to find other ways to invest\n'Cause you rappers found every way to ruin Pateks\nIt's a nightmare, yeah\nI'm too rare amongst all of this pink hair, ooh!\nStill do the Fred Astaire on a brick\nTap-tap, throw the phone if you hear it click\nArt Basel-in' the bezel\nYour bustdown is bust-down and don't match the metal\nLower level's where you settle at\nI'm the pot callin' the kettle black\nWhere there's no brake pedals at\nBetween God and where the Devil's at\nHad to double-dutch and double back\nThen hopscotch through where the trouble's at\nExactly what the game's been missin'\nThis fire burns hot as Hell's Kitchen\nPush!\nYou might also like\nNow that's how the ting go, I'm back from Santo Domingo\nThat's where the kings go, down in Santo Domingo\nNow that's how the ting go, I'm back from Santo Domingo\nThis for the sneaker hoarders and coke snorters\n'Cause that's where the kings go, down in Santo Domingo\nFrom Honda Accords to Grammy awards, yo\nThat's where the kings go\n\nI can blow a million dollars into dust\nLord knows how many bottles I've done bust\nStill runnin' through the models like I'm Puff (M-M-M\u2014)\nConfront my problems like I'm Ralo in the bluff\nPusha know these politics is paradox\nChillin' in a condo full of ready-rock\nMy homie amputated but gon' stand for somethin'\nI'm dyin' to find a way to get a Grammy from it (Maybach Music)\nWatchin' my success, for some, is bittersweet\nAlways keep the sharpshooters' triggers tweaked\nDiamonds drippin' on me via Tiffany's\nAll these K-9 units still sniffin' me\nIgnorance versus the innocence\nIt's not the temperature for you in Timberlands\nI keep the coldest flows on the hot seat (M-M-M\u2014)\nAnd you can spot my hoes by their car keys\nAnother episode full of atrocities\nIt's double-M, baby, money monopolies (Maybach Music)\nYou scared to see my face in a fancy place\nSo why debate my case vs. a Nancy Grace?\nIt's flesh and blood 'til I'm fresh as fuck\nStill hands-on, sucker, press your luck (M-M\u2014)\nYour money gone every other month\nMy money long, so the treasure's tucked\nNow that's how the ting go, I'm back from Santo Domingo\nThat's where the kings go, down in Santo Domingo\nNow that's how the ting go, back from Santo Domingo\n'Cause that's where the kings go, down in Santo Domingo\nThat's where the kings go"}
{"text":"\nLyrically I\u2019m, untouchable, uncrushable\nBlunted in a 600, blunted in a 600\nUntouchable, uncrushable\nBlunted in a 600, blunted in a 600\n\nYuugh, I drops every blue moon\nTo separate myself from you kings of the YouTube\nI am more U2, I am like Bono with the Edge\nIn Mexico, fuck Donald and his pledge\nLegend has it, the wrist is magic\nThe left is Patek, Philippe's replaced by Matsuhisa\nIgnore most requests for the feature\nUnless it\u2019s getting played on the beach in Ibiza\nWhile she fucking Nesha and she sucking shisha\nCan\u2019t you see my Total; Pam, Kima, Keisha\nI\u2019m aiming for the moguls, why y'all niggas aiming at the locals?\nAnd rap niggas broke like them, they\u2019re mere hopeful\nStill wishing on a star\nThe last one to find out that Baby own the cars\nThe final trilogy of Jaws\nThe grills like, interior gauze\nIt feels like, still white\nMatching Missoni looks African on me\nThey tryin\u2019 pin this trafficking on me like Mano and Tony\nMy thoughts spilling over\nThe soft ceiling\u2019s open, I Cross-Fit the coca\nYuugh! It\u2019s a different calisthenics when I do the Lennox\nHalf a million paralleled and ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 rented\nYeah, wearing Dri-Fit in my shit\nIt rides a little better in the cockpit\nYou might also like\nUntouchable, uncrushable\nBlunted in a 600, blunted in a 600\nUntouchable, uncrushable\nBlunted in a 600, blunted in a 600\n\nMu told me to switch styles\nHe just came home from the Feds like a mistrial\nHe tells me I miss out on all that club money, I don\u2019t bounce\nAdidas gave me a million and that don\u2019t bounce\nThe president of G.O.O.D. Music has been announced\nA quarter million a year and that don\u2019t bounce\nI\u2019m in the score of these movies, I\u2019m losing count\nMu, you knew me from thirteen hundred an ounce\nMy breakdown game bought me \u20188 Mile\u2019 fame\nSelling Eminem to him and \u2018em\nWhite to the Blacks I\u2019m a villain in\nThe Rolls Royce, playing peek-a-boo with the emblem\nLet\u2019s talk about it gentlemen\nMy barcode is Netflix \u201cNarcos\u201d\nPart on the side of my 'fro like I\u2019m Pablo\nNo hablo, I sell blow\nLone wolf, no Tonto, head honcho\nYuugh, let\u2019s take the scenic route\nI could show you the strange fruit\nIt\u2019s looking like Beirut\nThey open the wash bay, I climb it like K2\nThese kilos are drought killers, I flooded the Jes\u00fas, I made use\nOf every Spanish name I done ran across\nNo matter what the weight, I done ran it off\nI\u2019m walking on water, I took the sandals off\nTell A&E to turn the cameras off, Push\nUntouchable, uncrushable\nBlunted in a 600, blunted in a 600\nUntouchable, uncrushable\nBlunted in a 600, blunted in a 60"}
{"text":"I wanna talk to all you addicts out there\nThat's got yourself a great big Jones\nAn' you done tried all the methadone\nAn' you just can't leave that heroin alone\nI wonder, have you tried\n\nDope just touched down, I'm so grateful\nNumbers so low, bitch, be thankful\nThey say don't let money change you\nThat's how we know money ain't you\nBitch, I been had, bitches been bad\nWe buy big boats, bitch, I'm Sinbad\nDownright sinful, bitch, we been full\nAll my dopeboys, we like kinfolk\nBMore burnt spoon, DC glass pipe\nVA sent bales, 'bout that trap life\nBlew through thousands, we made millions\nCocaine soldiers, once civilians\nBought hoes Hondas, took care children\nLent my pastor, build out buildin's\nRapped on classics, I been brilliant\nNow we blend in, we chameleons, ahh\n\nNever have I been locked up in a world of misery\nI need you darlin' to set me free\nCome back, baby, try me one more time\nOoh, baby, I'm 'bout to go out of my mind\nI can't\u2014\nYou might also like\nWho else got the luxury to drop when he want\n'Cause nobody else can fuck with me? What a show-off\nNigga, wrist for wrist\u2014let's have a glow-off\nFuck it, brick for brick\u2014let's have a blow-off\nIf we go by connections made\nI can still climb ladders when complexions fade (Yugh)\nWhite on white, that's the testa\nBlack on black, that's the Tesla\nSee these diamonds in this watch face?\nAll that shit came from pressure\nThey don't miss you 'till you gone with the wind\nAnd they tired of dancin' like a Ying Yang Twin\nYou can't have the Yin without the Yang, my friend\nReal niggas bring balance to the game I'm in (Yugh)\nCan't escape the scale if I tried\nInterstate trafficking's alive\nPush\n\nNever have I been locked up in a world of misery\nI need you darlin' to set me free\nCome back, baby, try me one more time\nOoh, baby, I'm 'bout to go out of my mind\nI can't\u2014\nStill fresh off the boat, niggas\nDon't make me super-soak niggas\nYour life ends up a quote, nigga\nThe good die young, all dogs go to heaven\nIt's really just momma's fallin' out on the reverend\nI play musical chairs with these squares\nRich flair before they was Ric Flair's\nCocaine concierge, longest runnin' trapper of the year\nStood the test of time like Dapper Dan\nSeason my sauce like Zatarain's\nIs he still in the caravan? (No)\nIt's a mil' in the caravan? (Whoa)\nRichard Mille on a leather band (Ooh)\nBehind the wheel like an ambulance (Go)\nOn my way up to Maryland (Gone)\n\nNever have I been locked up in a world of misery\nI need you darlin' to set me free\nCome back, baby, try me one more time\nOoh, baby, I'm 'bout to go out of my mind\nI can't\u2014\nCome back, baby, try me one more time\nOoh, baby, I'm 'bout to go out of my mind\nI\u2014I can't\u2014"}
{"text":"\n\nI sold more dope than I sold records\nYou niggas sold records, never sold dope\nSo I ain't hearing none of that street shit\n'Cause in my mind, you motherfuckers sold soap\nGot rich selling hope to the hopeless\nBut I'm a thinker, methodic in my motives\nI motivate to put my niggas into motors\nNo woman, no child, no witness, no Jehovahs\nLike Scarface but it's God's face in that mirror\nWe was made in His image, dialing and it's much clearer\nScoring from the heights but I wanted mine purer\nAryan, blonde hair, blue-eyed like the F\u00fchrer\nThe judge and the jury, the jewellery mad froze\nWatercolors on my neck, fuck rhyming when you blinding niggas\nWe ain't the same color clarity of diamond, nigga\nNah, I ain't got nothing in common with yous\nPain in my heart, it's as black as my skin\nThey tipping the scale for these crackers to win\nNo reading, no writing, made us savage of men\nThey praying for jail but I mastered the pen\nDescended from kings, we at it again\nJust hand me the crown, I'm active again\nEverything that it seems, hear my passion again\nWas never my dream, the immaculate win\nYou might also like\nI was pissing my shorts, having rich nigga thoughts\nWish I had a pistol before all the friends I done fought\nOvernight I seen a nigga go get a Carrera\nTwo weeks later I had to be that boy pallbearer\nYoung king bury me inside a glass casket\nWindex wipe me down for the life after\nCrack dealer living like a hoop star\nBlack marble, white walls in my new spot\nFour chains, big studs, a nigga too fly\nTop down, tank top, I think I'm 2Pac\nSo I'm labeled the rebel, nigga get on my level\nWe were born to be kings, only major league teams\nChasing my paper, couldn't fathom my wealth\nBuilt a school in Ethiopia, should enroll in myself\nGod body and mind, food for the soul\nWhen you feeding on hate, you empty, my nigga, it shows\nFollow the codes, ain't no love for these hoes\nIf you slip and you fall I got you, my nigga, hold on\nIf you right or you wrong, if you riding, come on\nBy the end of this song, can't be hiding for long\nI seen children get slaughtered, niggas' grandmothers assaulted\nThrow a gang sign, dare you do something about it\nFuck copping them foams, when you copping the home\nCop a kilo and have them people on top of your home\nFollow the codes, ain't no love for these hoes\nIf you slipping you fall, I got you, my nigga, hold on\nIf you right or you wrong, if you riding, come on\nBy the end of this song, I got you, my nigga, hold on\nI got you, my nigga, hold on\nI got you, my nigga, hold on\nIf you right or you wrong, if you riding, come on\nBy the end of this song, I got you, my nigga, hold on\nI got you, my nigga, hold on\nI got you, my nigga, hold on\nI got you, my nigga, hold on\nI got you, my nigga, hold on"}
{"text":"Yesterday's price is not today's price\nLike, like\u2014like, crack\u2014crack, like, like\nLike, li\u2014li\u2014crack, crack, crack\n\nImaginary players ain't been coached right\nMaster recipes under stove lights\nThe number on this jersey is the quote price\nYou ordered Diet Coke, that's a joke, right?\nEverybody get it off the boat, right?\nBut only I can really have a snow fight\nDetroit nigga challenge, what's your dope like?\nIf your Benz bigger, step it up to Ghost life\nMissy was our only misdemeanor\nMy tunnel vision's better under stove lights\nYou ordered Diet Coke, that's a joke, right?\nMy workers compensated so they don't strike\n\nWish me luck, see green like Don Bishop\nThe ones you trust don\u2019t change like them chains you tuck\nFar as I'm concerned, who's the best? Me and Yezos\nWash, then dry, so give me all of mine in pesos\nAdd it up (Add it up)\nYour bitches in them pictures but they laser taggin' us\nThey mad at us, who wouldn't be?\nWe became everything you couldn't be\nEverything your mama said you shouldn't be\nThe Porsche's horses revvin', like, \"Look at me\"\nSaddle up\nI'm still pitchin', baby, batter up\nYou might also like\nImaginary players ain't been coached right\nMaster recipes under stove lights\nThe number on this jersey is the quote price\nYou ordered Diet Coke, that's a joke, right?\nAll you niggas get it off the boat, right?\nBut only I can really have a snow fight\nDetroit nigga challenge, what's your dope like?\nIf your Benz bigger, step it up to Ghost life\n\nThe flow's untouched, the drums is tucked\nDrive Cullinan when roads get rough\nSnow\u2019s a must, the nose adjust\nYoung Gs like we Hov and Puff\nBest jewelries and hoes we lust\nChanel trinkets and hoes'll blush\nCrush hearts like pretty boys\nAnd we drivin' pretty toys\nExtendos will make plenty noise\nCrescendo make your car endo\nPierce your car window\nMissy was our only misdemeanor\nNike box hold a hundred thou' with no insoles, uh\nThe crack era was such a Black era\nHow many still standin' reflectin' in that mirror?\nLucky me\nImaginary players ain't been coached right\nMaster recipes under stove lights\nThe number on this jersey is the quote price\nYou ordered Diet Coke, that's a joke, right?\nAll you niggas get it off the boat, right?\nBut only I can really have a snow fight\nDetroit nigga challenge, what's your dope like?\nIf your Benz bigger, step it up to Ghost life"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nI don't never feel pain\n'Cause I done felt too much pain\nMoney earned in the rain\nBlood flowing through my veins\nI'm just doing my thing\nGetting money, baby girl, gold chains\n\nI don't never feel pain\n'Cause I done felt too much pain\nStanding in the rain\nBlood flowing through my veins\nI ain't never did a thing\nGetting money, rocking chains\nYou'll never feel the same\nWe the thugs in the game\nI don't never feel pain\n\nEighteen-wheeler gorillas\nBlack with gold chains, pitch bird like Steelers\nHines Ward of the crime lords\nRunning through this money, screaming, \"Encore\"\nSpending nights with a prime whore\nBut that's the bitch that you're blind for\nCelebrating on a whim, nigga\nPain is Pac, Above the Rim, nigga\nMy bitch rock a bigger gem, niggas\n'Cause she was there when it was dim, nigga\nShe wasn't fucking none of them niggas\nSo now we even like a hem, nigga\nPut your freedom over failure\nTryna find my Griselda (La Madrina)\nMight as well, they gon' nail you\nMama screaming like Mahalia\nPain is love and it's war\nPain is running out of raw\nPain is finding out you're poor\nAs the feds knock at your door\nYou might also like\nI don't never feel pain\n'Cause I done felt too much pain\nBeen around here, standing in the rain\nBlood flowing through my veins\nI'm just doing my thing\nGetting money, rock a bunch of gold chains\nAnd I don't never feel pain\n'Cause I done felt too much pain\nI'm just standing in the rain\nBlood flowing through my veins\nI'm just doing my thing\nGetting money, rocking all these gold chains\nMillion dollars on one gold ring\n\nPain is joy when it cries\nIt's my smile in disguise\nIt's what makes the story chilling\nSpare the women and the children\nHear the scribbles of the villain\nYuugh, this is drug dealer brilliance\n\n\nPyrex on the platter like hot sex\nBut my tribe don't quest like love\nCame in this bitch with a mask and a glove\nAnd a team of lawyers to run the train on a judge\nIt's no risk without gain\nIt's no trust without shame\nIt's no us without 'caine\nPush, my name is my name\nIn the kitchen with a cape on, apron\nTrey-eight on, could've been Trayvon\nBut instead, I chose Avon\nPowder-face like a geisha\nArm & Hammer for the breakup\nTurn one into two, watch the brick kiss and makeup\nWoo, it's a match made in heaven\nAll that's missing is the reverend\nAll that's missing is a blessing\nI hope God gets the message\nI don't never feel pain\n'Cause I done felt too much pain\nBeen around here, standing in the rain\nBlood flowing through my veins\nI'm just doing my thing\nGetting money, rock a bunch of gold chains\nAnd I don't never feel pain\n'Cause I done felt too much pain\nI'm just standing in the rain\nBlood flowing through my veins\nI'm just doing my thing\nGetting money, rocking all these gold chains\nMillion dollars on one gold ring"}
{"text":"I see the strangest things\nThe evil that money brings\nI swear it\u2019s like a disease\nThat goes round and round and round like sirens\nAnd they wanna bury me\nWhy? Cause I\u2019m anti everything\nI swear it\u2019s like a disease\nThat goes round and round and round like sirens\nMoney, pussy, alcohol\nYou niggas pussy after all\nMoney, pussy, alcohol\nYou niggas pussy, had it all\n\n(And we way up, yeah, yeah)\n(She wait up, yeah, yeah)\n(I lay up, yeah, yeah)\nGet in them drawers\n(And we way up, yeah, yeah)\nI had a dream I had it all\n(She wait up, yeah, yeah)\n(I lay up, yeah, yeah)\nI woke up and really had it all\nYou might also like\nThe three leading killers of you niggas\nIs the shit that\u2019s most appealing to you niggas\nEven I fell victim to it, your pride don\u2019t let you do it\nThe lies will get you through it\nMoney, pussy, alcohol, what a wonderful cocktail\nFronted my first brick over oxtails and ran with it\nDope is like a two-way street\nThe addiction, both you and me, now take a seat (Uh)\nEvery car got a fleet, every broad get a jeep\nEvery sparkle in the club that wasn\u2019t ours, we compete\nPoor minds, poor decision makers\nNo reward, then what\u2019s the risk you taking?\nNew bitch I been fucking might start a rap war\nWon\u2019t unveil it yet, can\u2019t tell it yet\nDefense wins games Bill Belichick\nThese hoes having Google numbers, niggas better check\nYuugh\n\nMoney, pussy, alcohol\nYou niggas pussy after all\nMoney, pussy, alcohol\nYou niggas pussy, had it all\n\n(And we way up, yeah, yeah)\n(She wait up, yeah, yeah)\n(I lay up, yeah, yeah)\nGet in them drawers\n(And we way up, yeah, yeah)\nI had a dream I had it all\n(She wait up, yeah, yeah)\n(I lay up, yeah, yeah)\nI woke up and really had it all\nShout out my bitches fucking baseball niggas\nThat dress like Bamas with guaranteed contracts\nYeah, I see your vision, sick of prison visits\nNow the Major League\u2019s where you're fishing\nYou young and hot, so why not?\nThe dealers is washed, the money is dry, so take your best shot\nWe can\u2019t judge you \u2018cause we ain\u2019t hug you\nWe sent you off to other hoods and let them niggas fuck you\nFor real, we made you watch from afar\nEven talked down on you, tryna dim your star\nUntil we seen them foreign cars pull up\nAnd watch them pick you up\nAnd then we realized we missed a diamond in the rough\nSo, make us proud, make it count\nUntil you learn to love \u2018em, make \u2018em spare no amount\nMake \u2018em dig deeper to keep ya, knowing you deserve it\nTake advantage of it when you\u2019re worth it\nReal bitches worth it\n\nMoney, pussy, alcohol\nYou niggas pussy after all\nMoney, pussy, alcohol\nYou niggas pussy, had it all\n(And we way up, yeah, yeah)\n(She wait up, yeah, yeah)\n(I lay up, yeah, yeah)\nGet in them drawers\n(And we way up, yeah, yeah)\nI had a dream I had it all\n(She wait up, yeah, yeah)\n(I lay up, yeah, yeah)\nI woke up and really had it all\nI\u2019ve been watching all you real niggas\nI done seen more won't than you will niggas\nTake a swing, snatch a chain\nLose your mind, go insane\nI\u2019m in the club, you in the club too\nI got money, you got money too\nYou think it\u2019s honey dew\nWhispering in my ear like a hunny do\nEyeballing every bottle that we running through\nTrying to stand near, nigga damn near\nPushing bitches out the way to Instagram here\nIt\u2019s no pictures, now you in your feelings\nI\u2019m a real dope boy, no stranger dealings\nBruised ego, Henny-induced Debos\nNickel bag niggas, all of a sudden Ninos\nI cancel all of you G-Moneys for G money\nI get it done for quarter ki money, for real\n\nMoney, pussy, alcohol\nYou niggas pussy after all\nMoney, pussy, alcohol\nYou niggas pussy, had it all\n\n(And we way up, yeah, yeah)\n(She wait up, yeah, yeah)\n(I lay up, yeah, yeah)\nGet in them drawers\n(And we way up, yeah, yeah)\nI had a dream I had it all\n(She wait up, yeah, yeah)\n(I lay up, yeah, yeah)\nI woke up and really had it all\n"}
{"text":"(I was dreamin' of the past)\nIt's levels, it's layers, so pray for the players, uh\nWe hollowed the walls in back of bodegas, uh\n(And my heart was beatin' fast)\nI got plenty, it's so many, yeah\nThey say, \u201cGimme, he got plenty, yeah\"\n\nBruh, you niggas ain't flexin', you crampin'\nMy weight keepin' niggas on the bikes like Amblin\nWeight loss, rent loss, scramblin' (I began to lose control)\nNow pass the champagne to the champion\nMy niggas get money, get money, get money like Ye samplin' (I began to lose control)\nGun stutter, make the drumline like Grambling\nMGM gamblin', blew a small mansion (I was dreamin' of the past)\nAnnoyed 'cause this bitch callin' Lanvin \"Laen-ven\"\nFuck who you stampin', them niggas just stand-ins (And my heart was beatin' fast)\nNot me, they censor and block me\nYou hollerin', \"Top five,\" I only see top me\nAward shows the only way you bitches could rob me (I was dreamin' of the past)\n\nIt's levels, it's layers, so pray for the players\nClip 'em, baby, if he flinch at the price of Bottega, uh (And my heart was beatin' fast)\nI got plenty, it's so many, yeah\nThey say, \u201cGimme, he got plenty, yeah\"\nYou might also like\nBruh, you niggas ain't drip, you dryin'\nKevlar in his Balenciaga jacket linin'\nYou and your bitch income combinin' (I began to lose control)\nI'm sending' Lorraine Schwartz diamond minin'\nFind 'em, I came up with Enzo drifters (I began to lose control)\nSo you gots understand there's a difference\nThere's window stickers and window lickers (I was dreamin' of the past)\nYou know the type, always tryna get in your picture\nI was tryna get the dope through, in your sister (And my heart was beatin' fast)\nWe weren't baggin' up the work, wouldn't be no dishes\nBe no Christmas, mistletoe, be no kisses\nMade a way for ourselves, we ain't need no wishes, hah (I was dreamin' of the past)\n\nIt's levels, it's layers, so pray for the players, uh\nWe hollowed the walls in back of bodegas, uh (And my heart was beatin' fast)\nI got plenty, it's so many, yeah\nThey say, \u201cGimme, he got plenty, yeah\"\n\nWalk it down like Brady, gets better with time\nDidn't have to reinvent the wheel, just a better design\nCritics: \"He's out of his mind\"; haters: \"He's out of his prime\" (I began to lose control)\nYet, always where the money's at like lottery signs\nStill I climb, rockstar, Third Eye Blind (I began to lose control)\nI was bored by these albums so it gotta be time\nNo reward for the latter, so it gotta be mine (I was dreamin' of the past)\nHuff and Puff in the club, then I gotta be Shyne\nProperties all across the board, this monopoly's mine (And my heart was beatin' fast)\n'Came a minister in my prime so I gotta be Shyne\nI used to watch The Fresh Prince and pray the house would be mine\nCoulda bought it, but I ain't like the way the kitchen design (I was dreamin' of the past)\nBorn in the manger, the son of a stranger\nWhen daddy's not home, the family's in danger (And my heart was beatin' fast)\n\nI got plenty, it's so many, yeah\nThey say, \u201cGimme, he got plenty, yeah\""}
{"text":"\nThis is my time, this is my hour\nThis is my pain, this is my name, this is my power\nIf it's my reign, then it's my shower\nThis pole position, I made a lane 'cause they blocked ours\nDope boys, block bleeders, gold diggers don't stop either\nMotivation is misguided, if you hit the mark, then it's not needed\nCarry on like a carry on, on my side bitch I let tag along\nCall me \"daddy\" from a complex\n'Cause her mother's fucker wouldn't marry mom\nNo excuses, no regard, step on the brick like a promenade\nTwenty thousand on calling cards\nAnd I'm speaking Spanish like Don Omar\n\nBut I'm King Push, this king push\nI rap, nigga, 'bout trap niggas, I don't sing hooks\n\nFuck nigga with the sly talk\nMiss me with all the pie talk\nWhen them lights on you and them letters there\nYou point us out just like an eye-chart\nBut that's my fault, my details of the sidewalk\nFor eleven years, we seen better years\nWe was sellin' birds over the time port\nMy first Grammy was my first brick\nRed carpet, every bad bitch\nMore BMF than Billboard\nI got a label deal under my mattress\nYou might also like\n'Cause I'm King Push, still King Push\nI rap, nigga, 'bout trap niggas, I don't sing hooks, ah\n\nVultures to my culture\nExploit the struggle, insult ya\nThey name dropping 'bout Caine copping\nBut never been a foot soldier\nLet's have another look, just get a little closer\nRage against the machine, black Zack de la Rocha\nIn a cranberry Rossta, inside track on the G rap poster\nBest D-boy, all I'm missing is a dash\nDifference 'tween me and Hova\n\nBut I'm King Push, still King Push\nI rap, nigga, 'bout trap niggas, I don't sing hooks, ah"}
{"text":"89 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol40 Acres Lyrics\nTrouble world, trouble child\nTrouble times destroyed my smile\nNo change of heart, no change of mind\nYou can take what's yours but you gon' leave what's mine\nI'd rather die than go home\nI'd rather die than go home\nAnd I ain't leaving without my forty acres\nUnpolished, unapologetic\nThis cocaine cowboy pushed it to the limit\nYou thought Tony in that cell would've made us timid\nWe found his old cell, bitch, we searchin' through the digits\nAnything Spanish, got me speaking Spanglish\nMoney's universal, that's the only language\nThe dream ain't die, only some real niggas\nWe was born to mothers who couldn't deal with us\nLeft by fathers who wouldn't build with us\nI had both mine home, let's keep it real, niggas\nMy better half chose the better path, applaud him\nYounger brother me a spoiled child, I fought him\nI heard that the Devil's new playground is boredom\nThe California top just falls back like autumn\nAnd they say I'm on the verge of winnin'\nI claim victory when Malice on the verge of sinnin'\nOld habits die hard, that rainy day bag buried in the backyard\nIt's heaven for a hustler, no graveyards\n'Cause stand-up niggas don't lie on no floors\nMuch rather burn us, ashes to ashes\nMix us with the powder, sell us to the masses\nWe gon' keep it tight, rip it off the plastic\nNow you celebrate, motherfuckers, raise your glasses\nPush\nYou might also like\nTrouble world, trouble child\nTrouble times destroyed my smile\nNo change of heart, no change of mind\nYou can take what's yours but you gon' leave what's mine\nI'd rather die than go home\nI'd rather die than go home\nAnd I ain't leaving without my forty acres\n\nUnpolished, unapologetic\nMight have broke a heart or two but gave an honest effort\nMy nonchalant attitude is always \"F it\"\nThirty-five years of marriage and my mama left it\nYou shouldn't question if you ever stood a chance with him\nThe better question is, did you enjoy the dance with him?\nYuh, I'll probably never pull you chair out, bitch\nYou know this money grew your hair out, switch\nAll that shit I bought you wear out\nRich, and I'm the only one I care about\nPlace none above me, God don't like ugly\nHate me or love me, only He can judge me\nUnpolished, unapologetic\nBig willie with the blow, niggas, I am legend\nSchool of hard knock, I attended\nSelling hard rock, fuck who I offended\nI was a goner, punished by karma\nCalled him tar baby, now he's transcending genres\nThe 911 came with the ass shots\nA toothless crackhead was the mascot\nThe owner of the key to that padlock\nI'm Jordan verse the Cavs for the last shot\nI need all mine, reparations\nWe growin' poppy seeds on my forty acres, Push\nTrouble world, trouble child\nTrouble times destroyed my smile\nNo change of heart, no change of mind\nYou can take what's yours but you gon' leave what's mine\nI'd rather die than go home\nI'd rather die than go home\nAnd I ain't leaving without my forty acres"}
{"text":"Creep up on these niggas\nCreep up on these niggas\nSpeak up on these niggas\nSpeak up on a nigga\nWalk up in that bitch and wave at everything\nWalk up in that bitch and wave at everything\nGo and make it bang, go and make it bang\nGettin\u2019 followed by them hollows, go and make it bang\nNiggas ain\u2019t been to church in a minute\nBut it\u2019s funny how that TEC make a nigga get religious\nAmen!\n\nYou rather be more famous than rich\nPlay your role, it\u2019s easy acting like Mitch\n\u201cPaid In Full\u201d was more than reading a script\nPaid in full is really just being Rich Porter\nFilling all standing orders\nWould you question could I swim if you saw me walking on water?\nYeah, while every song got a rapper dance\nYuugh, I\u2019m drug money like Dapper Dan\nNo retirement plans, no Derek Jeters\nWe all know I did it; Rodriguez\nThe illusion of money we don\u2019t believe in\nYou ask me, Tyga looking like a genius\nI\u2019m Kim Jong of the crack song\nGil Scott-Heron to the black poem\nWoo, the revolution will be televised\n\u2018Cause we done see all and they telling lies\nYou might also like\nCreep up on these niggas\nCreep up on these niggas\nSpeak up on these niggas\nSpeak up on a nigga\nWalk up in that bitch and wave at everything\nWalk up in that bitch and wave at everything\nGo and make it bang, go and make it bang\nGettin\u2019 followed by them hollows, go and make it bang\nNiggas ain\u2019t been to church in a minute\nBut it\u2019s funny how that TEC make a nigga get religious\nAmen!\n\nYou rather be more famous than rich\nPlay your role, it\u2019s easy being my bitch\nIt\u2019s only right for a queen to floss your shit\nRolex crowns, I emboss your wrist\nThe minimums, niggas ain\u2019t synonyms\nDual exhausts, driving flying saucers\nDiamond crosses, hang Takashi portraits\nStreet millionaires rub shoulders\nAnd laugh at bitches fucking promoters\nHoping that they get noticed, still driving a Focus\nWhat you fuck him for if you didn\u2019t know what the goal was?\nShine, remote control blinds\nThat turn on the time lapse, controlled by the iPad\nAhhh, my living room rap scream crack money\nI don\u2019t trust rap niggas or rap money\nSee this air hole tech and get ratttttt from me\nCreep up on these niggas\nCreep up on these niggas\nSpeak up on these niggas\nSpeak up on a nigga\nWalk up in that bitch and wave at everything\nWalk up in that bitch and wave at everything\nGo and make it bang, go and make it bang\nGettin\u2019 followed by them hollows, go and make it bang\nNiggas ain\u2019t been to church in a minute\nBut it\u2019s funny how that TEC make a nigga get religious\nAmen!\n\nNiggas talking it, but ain\u2019t living it\nTwo years later admitting it, all them niggas is renting shit\nThey ask why I\u2019m still talking dope, why not?\nThe biggest rappers in the game broke, voil\u00e0\nThey say it\u2019s hate, but it\u2019s these well-dressed snakes\nThat learn to walk on the concrete, I just saw it and spoke to it\nYuugh, you ain\u2019t know, you got coached through it\nWooo, the rap fans got hoaxed through it\nHaaa, the whole time I sold coke through it\nNigga, and records I was Bo through it\nKing Push is synonymous with kingpin\nChess moves on your checkerboard, king him\nYeah, this is gun slingers and Goyard\nUh, this is O Dog in the courtyard\nYou wonder why I\u2019m still here\nI\u2019m America\u2019s worst nightmare\nNight, night nigga\nCreep up on these niggas\nCreep up on these niggas\nSpeak up on these niggas\nSpeak up on a nigga\nWalk up in that bitch and wave at everything\nWalk up in that bitch and wave at everything\nGo and make it bang, go and make it bang\nGettin\u2019 followed by them hollows, go and make it bang\nNiggas ain\u2019t been to church in a minute\nBut it\u2019s funny how that TEC make a nigga get religious\nAmen!"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishMillions Lyrics\nYou know what happen when G.O.O.D. Music and MMG get together, right?\nWe get that money\n\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\n\nThis that shit that y'all wanted\nThis shit cook up hard, don't it?\nY'all gotta beg my pardon on it\nBut this shit sound like God don't it?\nYuugh, I'm tired, nigga\nAnd y'all gotta pay your tithes, nigga\nCall my Phantom the holy ghost\nChurch on chrome wheel tires, nigga\nPop tags when I'm paranoid\n'Cause the pawn shop was my paradise\nI was dead pop when that powder came\nFor that knot saved in that shoebox\nBlue tops, blue tops, bad bitch in that blue fox\nThis big face is in Blu-Ray\nAnd these black diamonds like Boondocks\nYou might also like\nI restore the feelin' of when niggas made a killin'\nHidin' choppas in the closet, half a million in the ceiling\nAnd them hoes with angel faces, cryin' loud with ill intentions\nJust so I can buy them Christians\nHave 'em shittin' on all they bitches, ah!\n\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\n\nI'm haunted by horror stories, wanna-be home owners\nHorrible outcome, a dope boy got one motive\nCries when he convicted, cried on every visit\nI'm cryin' sayin' his name, ride for all my niggas\nUsed to fiddle my finger 'til I found me a fortune\nFinger fuck a Ferrari, south of France early morning\nDid drugs with Donatella, Versace my a cappella\nNever see me in Neiman's, niggas committin' treason\nSoft loafer preferred, frost, organic herb\nStay away from the Forbes, if I only could tell you more\nI got this I got that, I got that I got this\nGot a kilo for 20, my choppas say I'm the shit\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\n\nThis that shit y'all ask for\nMake a nigga mash on the gas, floor\nTwo-door, four-door\nRoll through the hood like task force\nFast forward\u2013oops! They say they wanna see proof\nMy record sales ain't much as theirs\nAnd we still ride the same coupes\nHow we still fuck the same hoes\nWhy we still buy the same clothes\nHow we both got the same watch\nI'm just keepin' y'all on y'all toes\nDope boys, gold mine\nThat price drop and that coke rise\nThen set it over that blue flame\nThen hang it dry like clothesline\nI restore the feelin' of when niggas made a killin'\nHidin' choppas in the closet, half a million in the ceiling\nGot the razor on the counter, Arm & Hammer in the kitchen\nJust to keep my feet in Christians and keep fuckin' all y'all bitches\n\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nMillions-millions in the ceiling, millions-millions in the ceiling\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\nChoppas-choppas in the closet, choppas-choppas in the closet\n\nThis that shit that ya'll wanted, this shit sound like God don't it\nThis that shit that ya'll wanted, this shit sound like God don't it\nThis that shit that ya'll wanted, this shit sound like God don't it\nThis that shit that ya'll wanted, this shit sound like God don't it"}
{"text":"93 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olS.N.I.T.C.H. Lyrics\nSorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home\nSorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home\nWell, the walls are talkin' to me and I know you think I'm wrong\nBut, sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home, hey!\n\nNow when the phone start to clickin', your words start to echo\nSay you got to hang up but that man won't let go\nOh, my nigga, say it ain't so\nNow we speakin' on some niggas that he say he ain't know\nWe used to steal dirt bikes, dodge raindrops\nSo close niggas thought we had the same pops\nGraduated, gettin' money on the same blocks\nBut things changed and we ain't end up in the same box\nHearin' whispers, \"it ain't adding up\"\nGivin' you the jailhouse talk but you ain't mad enough\nI never thought I'd be the last man standin' up\nI never thought I'd had have to question, 'Were you man enough?'\nLong letters how the streets got the best of you\nTellin' all your cellies how come I ain't sitting next to you\nYeah, see I can read between the lines\nSo it's awkward when you call and I gotta press 5\nSorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home\nSorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home\nI think the Feds are lookin' through me, can't you hear it in my tone?\nSo, then sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home, hey!\nYou might also like\nGot me tiptoeing through the conversation on our calls\nTryna act normal but the writin's on the walls\nIt's like I hear you smilin' when you heard they hit the wall\nBut I just let it ride so I don't be the next to fall\n\"They sayin' Terrion been getting money while I'm gone\nAnd won't he tryna to holla at my bitch when I was home\"\n\"Nah, he selling cars, it'd be him and Lil Rome\"\nI'm just tryna offset what he was sayin' on my phone\nNowadays niggas don't need shovels to bury you\nPointin' fingers like pallbearers how they carry you\nSo much for death before dishonor\nMight as well have a robe and gavel like Your Honor\nI just sit and wonder, play it by the numbers\nWhen you ride like lightnin' then you crash like thunder\nSeen your baby mama, she ain't even know if she should speak\nWhat the fuck is there to say knowing her king's now weak sayin'\n\nSorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home\nSorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home\nWell, the walls are talkin' to me and I know you think I'm wrong\nBut, sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home, hey!\n\nLet's talk real niggas, let's speak real, nigga\nHow many niggas you knew snitchin' you ain't killed, nigga?\nCovered his own tracks, he didn't care that\nWe had a legacy he killed, I got to wear that\nEvery move we ever made is gettin' stared at\nI bet the man inside his mirror doesn't stare back\nBreak your heart when the man you call your brother\nBe the same one that set in motion all them undercovers\nCalled my mom mother, was at my graduation\nWhen I signed my record deal you was my motivation\nUh, from great friends now it's no affiliation\nDivided by the time he was facin', once he told me that\nSorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home\nSorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home\nI think the Feds are looking through me, can't you hear it in my tone?\nSo, then sorry, nigga, I'm tryna come home, hey!"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easRock N Roll Lyrics\nIf I ain't got nothin\u2019\u2014\nIf I ain't got nothin'\u2014\nOne plus one, plus one, plus one\nPlus one, plus one, plus one equals two\n\nYeah, I\u2019m sayin' somethin', they want it the old way (Yeah)\nComin' down the block, the windows are so hazy (Yeah)\nNever said, \"I can't,\" my nigga, there's no way (No way)\nEvery time we wild, that's rock n' roll, baby\n\nIt\u2019s back to the basics, hopped back in the matrix\nGave the Maybach back, back, now it\u2019s off to the races\nHad 'em tappin\u2019 my phones, so I blurred out the faces\nThe new David Ruffin, I just follow Temptation\nWhen you follow The Rager, the money is outrageous\nLook at me, legally sellin' dope on all of these stages\nVan Cleef & Arpels, V got all of the bracelets\nThe keys and the codes, and know where all of the safes is\nWe don't make mistakes here, we don't take no breaks here\nMy son is like a work of art, his father\u2019s like Shakespeare\nI've done the impossible, I should wear a cape here\nA \"C\" on my chest, coke dealers, come and play here\nCareer's in its eighth gear, nothin' left to do but levitate\nI'm David Blaine here, I could disappear, I swear\nWe been gettin' change here, so what's really changed here?\nStill next to Ye in here\nYou might also like\nYeah, I'm sayin' somethin', they want it the old way (Yeah)\nComin' down the block, the windows are so hazy (Yeah)\nNever said, \"I can't,\" my nigga, there's no way (No way)\nEvery time we wild, that's rock n' roll, baby\nThis is my story, and yes, you should pay me (Uh)\nTold her, \"I ain't stayin' the night,\" she might hate me (No)\nLife is where it's been, where they not, it's so crazy\nEvery time we wild, it's rock n' roll, baby\n\nWe the only clique takin' risk\nTouchin' lives, fuck your hits\nTouch the skies when you rich\nEvery drop make 'em blitz\nI'd done drove every six\nI'd done glowed every wrist\nEvery plot got a twist, when you sink a battleship\nI'm confused by your list\nWho are used to convince\nAll the mules that I sent\nWhat I miss?\nI been gettin' at these coins as I'm breakin' down a brick\nMade the jump to each level, Super Mario exists\nAll the spoons that were bent, all the fumes through the vents\nI don't care what they do, this ain't that, that ain't this\nI'm the trap, I'm the fix, I'm the broker, I'm The Joker\nIn the deck, Arthur Fleck, when he's pissed, triple six\nI accepted you the lie\nAll the times, selfish, thinking you was mine\nI showed up, then you arrived, I thought I could turn the tides\nHow I make it through the Chi', get to you, and almost die?\nFinally tired of comin' and goin', make up your mind\nI ain't come to pick up the kids to pick a fight\nGoin' off all of the time, showin' off all of the time\nPushing me over the edge, don't know if I'm fallin' or flyin'\nHow many nights I pray, how many times?\nNo matter what we say, God will decide, God will decide\nCall the divine, stars will align, stars will align\nLove my mama, but sometimes, dad was right\nTake His hand, hold on with all of your might\nWhen you're lost in the light, call on the light\nFollow the signs, walk in the shine\n\nSee, I'm losin' time\nSee, I really wanna live my life, oh\nSee, I want more, I want more, I want more\nSee a nigga try, yeah, oh, it never dries, oh\nSee, I want more, I want more, I want more\n\nIf I ain't got nothin'\u2014\nIf I ain't got nothin'\u2014\nOne plus one, plus one, plus one\nPlus one, plus one, plus one equals two\nIf I ain't got nothin'\u2014\nIf I ain't got nothin'\u2014\nOne plus one, plus one, plus one\nPlus one, plus one, plus one equals two"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00easBrambleton Lyrics\nThey're gonna die\nWhy would I wanna?\n\nWe was out in Brambleton after Pooh got hit\nClub Entourage in that new drop six\nIce that'll snag any new hot bitch\nChampagne super soaker screamin', \"Who got this?\"\nBeach niggas wanted work that they could move out quick\nBut my Norfolk niggas, they was on some shoot-out shit\nYou and I, we were different like the two got mixed\nBuyin' biggies, but was ridin' on some 2Pac shit\n(Why would I wanna?)\nWe was both hurt when we see how Q dropped Bish'\nSaid we knew the ledge better, we th\u0435 new plot twist\nWho knew your face b\u0435in' all across the news outlets\nWould mean forever I would never talk to you 'bout shit?\nHuh\n\nWhy would I wanna hold you down\nWhen I know you now, the past is your go-to now?\nShit, we really used to roll around\nCoppin' quarter pounds, from the border towns\nAnd shit, Ferraris gettin' ordered now\nCan't water down, godfathers to you daughters now\nShit, but let me bring it all around\nRoles are different now, niggas need to tone it down\n(Why would I wanna?)\nYou might also like\nYou would pay sixteen, I would pay eighteen\nWhen I paid twenty-two, still was a great thing\nLaid up countin' a million, we daydream\nTill the plug took back his half, that's they change\nWho was with you roaming the halls at night pacing?\n'Cause the feds watching them things that we chasing\nSliding doors just like the van on A-Team\nRevolvin' doors on them whores, they playthings\nIt was much more than foreigns that we were racing\nIf the past catch your dash, no erasing\nBlack 'Rari, white hood, make it a race thing\nWho knew our dynasty would end up a Jay\/Dame thing?\nHuh\n\nWhy would I wanna hold you down\nWhen I know you now, the past is your go-to now?\nShit, we really used to roll around\nCoppin' quarter pounds, from the border towns\nAnd shit, Ferraris gettin' ordered now\nCan't water down, godfathers to you daughters now\nShit, but let me bring it all around\nRoles are different now, niggas need to tone it down\n(Why would I wanna?)\nIt was sad watching dude in Vlad interviews\nReally it's 'bout me, he channeled it through you\nHad a million answers, didn't have a clue\nWhy Michael kissed Fredo in Godfather II\nNames they concealed, I don't make up shit\nThis that no-witnesses-wrapped-in-duct-tape shit\nNeeded all my niggas just to move your brick\nThat had me on Brambleton back when Pooh got hit\nHuh\n\nWhy would I wanna hold you down\nWhen I know you now, the past is your go-to now?\nShit, we really used to roll around\nCoppin' quarter pounds, from the border towns\nAnd shit, Ferraris gettin' ordered now\nCan't water down, godfathers to you daughters now\nShit, but let me bring it all around\nRoles are different now, niggas need to tone it down\n\nWhy would I wanna hold you down?"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olSuicide Lyrics\nYeah\nI just ordered one, my nigga\nYeah\n\nI'm still a snow-mover, blow harder than tuba\nDesignated shooters, turn weed to woolers\nCondo in Atlanta, money counters like the NASDAQ\nIn that glass back, the motor is the asscrack\nI'm still feeding divas like I feed the meter\nHoly father to 'em\u2014I ain't talking Jesus, neither\nBalance on the scale\u2014I ain't a Libra, either\nI'm just a name and a number with the means to reach you\nGrim Reaper, him cheaper, hemp chiefer\nHis army: MCM on gym sneakers\nYou knowin' that hymn better, he been preaching\nYou motherfuckers is bloodsuckers\u2014you been leeching\nBeen Baller, been Jacob, been dealer\nBeen realer; pound sign, been triller\nAll killer, no filler\u2014been iller\nFraud niggas, you Zoolander: Ben Stiller\n\nWhen it comes to shooters, my niggas is trained to go\nAnd they gettin' practice on bitches who breakin' codes\nThirty-five hundred, just point and give 'em a name\nThey back-flippin' niggas\u2014that go for rappers the same\nYou don't know me, nigga\u2014fuck out my way\nYou might also like\nBig difference between a renter and a homeowner\nHip Hop Weekly cover and a Rolling Stoner\nLufthansa: I heist, nigga, or that bitch Winona\nStop comparing me to rappers 'cause they in their moment\nMight have crossed the name brand every blue\nBut these brand names to a brand owner isn't new\nDon't make us equal 'cause we shared a bitch or two\nShe ain't the angel that you think\u2014she reincarnated, too\nI build mine off fed time and dope lines\nYou caught steam off headlines and co-signs\nYoung niggas cliquing up with my rivals\nLike the Bible don't burn, like these bullets don't spiral\nLike I can't see the scenes that you mirror in your idol\nBut a pawn\u2019s only purpose is completely suicidal\nOoh, suicide, it's a suicide\nI'm just talkin' to the world like it's you and I\n\nWhen it comes to shooters, my niggas is trained to go\nAnd they gettin' practice on bitches who breakin' codes\nThirty-five hundred, just point and give 'em a name\nThey back-flippin' niggas\u2014that go for rappers the same\nYou don't know me, nigga\u2014fuck out my way\nNothing but cash here; this sweater's a cashmere\nThe roof is a translucent\u2014it's nothin' but glass there\nThe car is a concept\u2014what's next is my last year\nMy future is bright-hot; you never can last here\nI'm top five\u2014listen, who hot in the past year?\nFive heartbeats, and I'm feelin' like Flash here\n'Cause what I captured is the beast unleashed in the pasture\nStory of the sheep and the wolves I unmaster\nFifty in the liquor, unwrapped 'em\nUnpacked; powder rise and it falls, like Sebastian\u2014\nTelfair; tailor-made suits, handcrafted\nOver Bottega Veneta, high-tops unfastened\nS550 drop-top is unimaginable\nTo my hand drop, and then, he unattached it\nPractice it, nigga, brick, break down, breakdance\nCrab-walk, backspin, tanner than my Black skin\nWhen it comes to shooters, my niggas is trained to go\nAnd they gettin' practice on bitches who breakin' codes\nThirty-five hundred, just point and give 'em a name\nThey back-flippin' niggas\u2014that go for rappers the same\nYou don't know me, nigga\u2014fuck out my way"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olLet Me Love You Lyrics\nBoy, you got that six in the morning\nYou got that thing that'll make a girl feel high\nOh, I say boy, you got me lonely\nJust say the words, I'll do anything you want (Uh)\nBoy, let me love you\n\nI know that you think I'm the one, but who doesn't?\nIt comes with the territory when you buzzin'\nA ball player sold you a dream, ain't do nothing\nA couple rappers under your belt, but who's judging?\nI ain't trying to guide you, hand on Bible\nBut Instagram pics show more than side views\nThirty-dollar nude catsuits is not cute\nAnd fifty comments on ass is not fluke, so\nNo cuffing, no buns in the oven\nIf my girl call your phone, she's just bluffin'\nAs long as you and I both know we just fuckin'\nIf anybody else do ask, we just nothing\n\nBoy, you got that six in the morning\nYou got that thing that'll make a girl feel high\nOh, I say boy, you got me lonely\nJust say the words, I'll do anything you want\nBoy, let me love you\nYou might also like\nHey mama, come fuck with the shotta\nWith the Givenchy toppa, shoe Balenciaga\nIf you act right, I can match you up proper\nIf it's about a dollar think big like Poppa\nIntroduce your exes to my choppa\nDon't listen to your best friend, she don't matter\nYou know she wanna be you in that vehicle\nRiding in see-through V1, V2\nChanel or Celine, however I see you\nChristians or Chloes, damn, them C's too\nYou know I play fair, I'm Daddy Day Care\nI know it ain't cheap for you to lay here\n\nBoy, you got that six in the morning\nYou got that thing that'll make a girl feel high\nOh, I say boy, you got me lonely\nJust say the words, I'll do anything you want\nBoy, let me love you\n\nLet's get past the nonsense and be honest\nAll the ones I sponsored clear my conscience\nCan't commit the crime without accomplice\nWe both to blame, let's push the shame behind us\nOn the DL, pushin' my brother's CL\nMeet you at the spot, you had tint on the TL\nIt's only right you shake them phony types\nAnd embrace the kid, like my bracelets did\nUh, I'm from the era where the money come fast\nBlow it all 'cause the money don't last\nAll them broke niggas lookin' puppy-dog sad\nShe in that new purse, sayin', \"Honey, don't ask\"\nBoy, you got that six in the morning\nYou got that thing that'll make a girl feel high\nOh, I say boy, you got me lonely\nJust say the words, I'll do anything you want\nBoy, let me love you\nBoy, let me love you\nBoy, let me love you"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olWho I Am Lyrics\n\nWoo, they said be all you can be\nWoo they said be all you can be\nI just wanna buy another Rollie\nI just wanna pop another band\nI just wanna sell dope forever\nI just wanna be who I am\n\nWoo, they said be all you can be, nigga\nWoo, they said be all you can be\nAlways knew I could rule the world\nLet's define what my world is\nKnee-deep in this dope money\nDamn near where my world ends\nSame block, same rock\nI was thinkin' 'bout murdering\nI ain't gettin' my hands dirty\nLet you worry 'bout servin' 'em\n\nYah, they said be all you can be, nigga\nWoo, they said be all you can be\nI just wanna buy another Rollie\nI just wanna pop another band\nI just wanna sell dope forever\nI just wanna be who I am\nYou might also like\nYah, they said be all you can be, nigga\nWoo, they said the truth set you free\n\nEntrepreneur, strip club connoisseur\nHot fudge sundae, pour it on you, hallelujah\nPour it on you, hallelujah, pour it on you, hallelujah\nAnd I be on my own dick, ain't that much room for you, ah\nRed, white and blue, I pledge allegiance to the street life\nEven if it's leftovers, I still gotta eat, right?\nGot gas in my peace pipe, pink Sprite\nShe P-poppin', her jeans tight\nAll day I dream about sex, three stripes\nWe the type of crew to get fresh just to sit in the living room\nLook out the window, got a bad bitch in my swimmin' pool\nGot a bad bitch in my swimmin' pool\nGot a bad bitch in my swimmin' pool\nWe the type of crew to get fresh just to sit in the living room\nLook out the window, got a bad bitch in my swimmin' pool\n\nWoo, they said be all you can be\n\nPretty girls, my reputation\nOne on my arm, that's decoration\nGettin' to it, no hesitation\nTo fuck with me, you need a reservation\nTo the top escalatin', elevatin'\nGood music legislation, delegatin'\nAnd I mean that shit like exclamation, exclamation, exclamation\nAnd I'm going 'til I K.O., eyes closed, I'm OK\nAll my bitches know they role, even when we role-play\nMy homie got that nine on him\nAll night and all day and all night and all day\nAnd all night like that shit's his motherfuckin' soulmate\n'Cause no time for hand to hand\nWhen you got this paper hand in her hand\nBitch, I'm feelin' like a grown ass lil' boy, nigga, na-na, na-na, na\nBitch, I'm feelin' like a grown ass lil' boy\n'Cause I still love to get pampered\nBut don't get it twisted, watch your step and fuckin' manners\nWoo, they said the truth set you free\n\nWoo, they said be all you can be\nWoo, they said be all you can be\nI just wanna buy another Rollie\nI just wanna pop another band\nI just wanna sell dope forever\nI just wanna be who I am\n\nWoo, I just wanna be who I am\nWoo, I just wanna be who I am\nAlways knew I could rule the world\nLet's define what my world is\nKnee-deep in this dope money\nDamn near where my world ends"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsDoesn\u2019t Matter Lyrics\nThis shit I wrote quick\nShit I hate\nBroke niggas, that always got something to say\nGot some nerve to have an opinion\nRenegades\n\nI don't give a fuck what you say about me\nBroke nigga two cents don't matter\nGive a fuck what you say about me\nBroke bitch two cents don't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, ohh\n\nThere's a meaning to the kissin' of the ring\nThe gods don't mingle with the mortals\nPeasants ain't sittin' with the kings\nGoliath ain't worried 'bout your sling\nAnd Cassius ain't bothered by your swings\nYou niggas keep rappin' 'bout your dreams, my reality\n50 birds waitin' in the wings\nDo it my way, I hit the highway with the batter\nSo when Kanye go on his hia', it don't matter\nSince you talking 'bout me, then let's talk about this money\nLet's talk about the cars and why mines shaped funny\nLets' talk about the fact you'll never take nothin' from me\nLets talk about the fact you niggas hate I'm up and runnin'\nRG3 nigga, be that\nRunnin' through this money and these white women\nSpike Lee see that\nShe gotta have it and I gotta give it\nAnd you do not relate cause you niggas do not live it, no\nYou might also like\nI don't give a fuck what you say about me\nBroke nigga two cents don't matter\nGive a fuck what you say about me\nBroke bitch two cents don't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, ohh\n\nAttention seekers beware, I will grant wishes\nWe can take this so much further than your mentions\nI can get your eulogy on YouTube for instance\nHave the whole world view the body\nSince y'all claim I'm Illuminati, tell me why would you try me?\nKennedy, John F., or Bobby\nAlmost caught Reagan, but they stopped us at the lobby\nAnd that was broad day, so how the fuck you gon' stop me?\nYou lil' niggas just dirty mine's is Zero Dark Thirty\nMine is night vision, witch huntin', ride for Pac worthy\nI'm coke boy leanin' on you niggas\nIf money talk then I must be screamin' on you niggas\nTop of the pile I was two thirds away\nI was sidetracked busy selling two birds a day, God\nDeath is just a U-turn away\nTwo men ten paces then you turn and spray\nI don't give a fuck what you say about me\nBroke nigga two cents don't matter\nGive a fuck what you say about me\nBroke bitch two cents don't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, ohh\nI don't give a fuck what you say about me\nBroke nigga two cents don't matter\nGive a fuck what you say about me\nBroke bitch two cents don't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, it doesn't matter\nIt doesn't matter, ohh\n\nMy Name is my name!"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00easI Pray For You Lyrics\nI pray for my enemies\nI pray for my friends\nI pray for the one who won't betray me again\nPray for the killers, I pray for the saints\nPlease, pray for me now\n\u2018Cause, darling, I pray for you\nI pray for you, mmm\nI pray for you, mmm\nI pray for you\nPray for you (You)\nI, you, ooh\n\nRarely do you see the Phoenix rise from the ashes\nLightnin' struck twice on four classics\nSelf-preservation, we separate ourselves from the plastic\nThe ankle of my sweat still elastic, still do gymnastics\nIf Hov's still forever young\nThen I'ma somersault backwards through these chapters\nLand in th\u0435 soft-white, cook it till it's off-white\nThey qu\u0435stionin' my scorecard, hold it to a torch light\nI hid it in the porch light, see, I had the foresight\nMy 9-1-1 was pullin' up to matchin' Porsche night, ooh\nThe married drug dealer, even named my son Brixx\nHe raps what he lives, so fuck the nanny, gon' sit\nIt's the grown man in me\nSearchin' for the plug, that's the nomad in me\nStill the X factor, that's the Rohan in me\nReluctantly a role model\nThat drowned in too many gold bottles\nHarold Melvin without the Blue Notes\nThe past ten years, screamin', \"Uno\"\nThen side step back into the duo\nThe kings of the Pyrex\nI'm my brother's keeper if you listen and you dissect\nAll I talk is money if you listen to my dialect\nBitch, I shot \"Grindin'\" in my momma's momma's projects\nI'm just being honest with you, how is that for context?\nYou can live forever when the shit you write is timeless\nWe gon' live forever 'cause the shit we write is timeless\nYou might also like\nOh\nOh, oh (Ooh)\n\nTell me what I missed\nNew designer drugs and emotions I don't get\nI don't Hellcat, still paddle when I shift\nVietnam flashbacks, I get triggered by a sniff\nToday's top fives only strengthenin' my myth\nBelong on Rushmore just from chiselin' a brick\nStill fightin' demons, see, that curse is now my gift\nSecrets die with me, that's as deep as the abyss, that is no coincidence\nWhen I was in the mix, opened up your nose like I'm cuttin' it with Vicks\nSlavin' over stoves like I rub together sticks\nPaved another road so my soul would coexist\nBut Heaven only knows, I won't dig another ditch\nIn a suit and tie, like you puttin' on the ritz\nThree record deals show me ignorance was bliss\nTryna milk a game that is only two percent\nX told you Hell is hot, I told you, \"Repent\"\nFaith never waivered as I walked along the fence\nFaith moves mountains, so what are you up against?\nWatch my brother 'round you bitches, I know he pretends\nI greet you with the love of God, that don't make us friends\nI might whisper in his ear, \"Bury all of them\"\nLight another tiki torch and carry it again\nBack up on my high horse, it's chariots again\nPut the ring back on her finger, marry it again\nOh\nOh, oh (Ooh)"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olNo Regrets Lyrics\nYeah, I'm on the move, I can-can't look back (No way)\nScreaming, \"No regrets, no regrets at all\" (Nah)\nWasted time, I can't get that back, uh (Can't get that back)\nSo every day I go hard\nReal nigga and all my niggas real niggas (Real niggas, real niggas)\nCame from making real figures (Too much money)\nNothing less, no regrets\n(Let's get it) No-no, no regrets\n\nSay hi to the bad guy, say ah to the champagne\nGot a call from my jail niggas, said I'm doing my damn thing\n(Woo) They see I'm doing my damn thing\nMagazines, videos, they ain't missing a damn thing\nNowadays I sell hope, what you rather I sell dope?\nWhat I sell is a lifestyle, naked bitches on sailboats\nForeign cars on a freight train for every nigga they railroad\nRent-a-cars we road run, money longer than train smoke\nI done been in that same boat, I ain't letting this chain go\nRepresenting my niggas down 'til they free 'em like Django\nIt's the same old, just the same old\nHow the game go, where the pain go, where the blame go?\nMy mind wanders on a PJ, my mama brought up in the PJs\nIn the club sippin' P&J on the same arm as my Piaget (Woo)\nIf I leave today, throw the keys away\nBut I'ma live today, I wanna see tomorrow, I wanna lead the way, ow\nYou might also like\nI'm on the move, I can-can't look back (No way)\nScreaming, \"No regrets, no regrets at all\" (Nah)\nWasted time, can't get that back, uh (Can't get that back)\nSo every day I go hard\nReal nigga and all my niggas real niggas (Real niggas, real niggas)\nCame from making real figures (Too much money)\nNothing less, no regrets\n(Let's get it) No-no, no regrets\n\nMama had me in the ghetto (Ghetto)\nI was raised in the slums (Slums)\nEvery hero got theme music, guess I need me some drums (Yeah)\nBought me a five for fifty, I bust 'em down, it was jumps (Woop)\nTrying to be fresh as forces, I swear they white as new ones\nStreets taught us, streets raised us, had it less determined (Yeah)\nDodging jackers, dodging murders, federal to state pen (Damn)\nUncle got power, now I see him in another ten\nWe was set up just to lose, Lord know we tryna win\nIn the pursuit of this power, this masterpiece to the hour\nYou know it's platinum and waterproof, wear this bitch in the shower\nYeah, we want finer things, plus a plug in the scale (Scale)\nYeah, them plates shining like diamond rings and plaque, can't you tell?\nIn the hood, I'm a king, King Arthur to the people\n'Cept he got his on a Chariot, I got mine in a Regal\nSports cars, Italian leather, Princess Cut with baguettes\nLaw of physics say them nines weigh more when they wet, no regrets\nYeah, I'm on the move, I can-can't look back (No way)\nScreaming, \"No regrets, no regrets at all\" (Nah)\nWasted time, can't get that back, uh (Can't get that back)\nSo every day I go hard\nReal nigga and all my niggas real niggas (Real niggas, real niggas)\nCame from making real figures (Too much money)\nNothing less, no regrets\n(Let's get it) No-no, no regrets\n\nPresidential, I came back, April showers, I rains back\nJumped ahead like June something, still I'm wheeling that Maybach\nTime forward, my braids back, Tom Ford and my shades black\nDope boy with a cape on, super-sizing that beige back\nAll white like Gotti said, Ye told me I'm outta here\nMentioned Ye two years ago, yeah, I got that by the square, woo\nAnd you could buy a pair, twenty or more and we'll fly 'em there\nHow you acting like I ain't here? D-Boy and I pioneer\n\nYeah, I'm on the move, I can-can't look back (No way)\nScreaming, \"No regrets, no regrets at all\" (Nah)\nWasted time, can't get that back, uh (Can't get that back)\nSo every day I go hard\nReal nigga and all my niggas real niggas (Real niggas, real niggas)\nCame from making real figures (Too much money)\nNothing less, no regrets\n(Let's get it) No-no, no regrets"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00easCall My Bluff Lyrics\nEverything don't need to be addressed\nThe pull-up's like a FedEx truck\nI can send some niggas 'round there right now\n1-800 Call-My-Bluff\nWake your ass up where you rest\nOn time like a Amazon truck\nI can send some niggas 'round there right now\n1-800 Call-My-Bluff\n\nBuffalo shrimps from Mahi Mah's\nCoke deals upstairs at the Ramada\nThe oceanfront motels was popular\nAnd crack was cemented phenomenon\nElected Presidential was on my arm\nRed stripe Pradas and on and on\nDriving a fiend car dangerous, extrem\u0435ly armed\nShout to the Branch's, Antoine and S\u0435an\nSome niggas play different, involve your mom\nSister, aunt, niece, duct tape them all\nWe only in the sport to be LeBrons\nWhen you used to platinum, that gold be bronze\nYour favorite rapper's dressing like Comic-Con\nThese necklaces is different from charm to charm\nBuried drug money from lawn to lawn\nWe learned from the wizards and Poppa Ron's\nYou might also like\nEverything don't need to be addressed\nThe pull-up's like a FedEx truck\nI can send some niggas 'round there right now\n1-800 Call-My-Bluff\nWake your ass up where you rest\nOn time like a Amazon truck\nI can send some niggas 'round there right now\n1-800 Call-My-Bluff\n\nCalling my bluff, gon' answer, \"Hello\"\nService with a smile when I hand out halos\nShotclock shooters, when I point 'em, they go\nNow everybody asking, \"What happened?\" They know (They know)\nRather watch the sunset in Turks and Caicos\nEating conch fritters with chips and queso's\nDon't make me call my TTG's with Draco's\nWho all got amnesia until the case closed\nSometimes I wish my fanbase was more like J. Cole's\nBut dope boys gotta be the man like they know\nHow many more car faxes must get exposed?\nImaginary shipments, fictitious payloads\nYou should listen to them on the platforms they on\nThe villains, the killings, no ceilings, I yawn\nNiggas acting like we can't pop up, hey Yawn\nWe specialize in not getting locked up, Akon\n\"Ahaha, I don't feel like they get that!\"\nEverything don't need to be addressed\nThe pull-up's like a FedEx truck\nI can send some niggas 'round there right now\n1-800 Call-My-Bluff\nWake your ass up where you rest\nOn time like a Amazon truck\nI can send some niggas 'round there right now\n1-800 Call-My-Bluff"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olCrutches, Crosses, Caskets Lyrics\nYeah\nUh-huh\nBeautiful evils\nYeah\nCheck me out\n\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nAll I see is victims\nMy young niggas sic' \u2018em\nI don\u2019t get \u2018em\nI just get back their jewelry if I\u2019m fuckin\u2019 with \u2018em\nYour man crush Mondays be owin\u2019 niggas\nMy skin is triple black, I\u2019m the omen\nYou can\u2019t kill a God like the Romans, uh\nTake my time to craft shit\n\u2018Cause I don\u2019t like back and forths with Puff about rap shit\n\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nAll I see is victims\nRappers is victimized at an all-time high\nBut not I, you pop niggas thought I let it fly\nI\u2019m Yasiel Puig, I\u2019m in another league\nI defected, only thing we have in common, niggas bleed\nIn ya thousand dollar joggers as you rhyme about ya dollars\nIs there shame when a platinum rapper\u2019s mother lives in squalor?\nMildred\u2019s in the Bahamas for the month\nShe\u2019s probably sitting in her pajamas having lunch\nSwordfish, my reality is more fish\nBanana clips for all you Curious Georges\nOld niggas slapping young niggas\nHa Imagine that, where you from nigga?\nYou might also like\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nAll I see is death by the masses\nThe only asterisk is the change of address\nMy infinity pool as long as Magic\u2019s\nYeah I let Zillow change my pillows\nThe home is so inviting, the Porsche is the armadillo\nThe silhouette\nThe pop, pop, pop; the chop, chop, chop\nThe throwaway TEC's got Tourettes\u00a0\nIt\u2019s more than this drug money, I love money\nI speak to your soul and that\u2019s above money\nThis the ministry of street energy\u00a0\nThe church of criminology, teaching my chemistries\nWoo I\u2019m the L. Ron Hubbard of the cupboard\nTo some certain motherfuckers gotta love it\n\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nAll I see is victims\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nCrutches, crosses, caskets\nAll I see is victims"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00easLet The Smokers Shine The Coupes Lyrics\nIf money is the evil root\nLet the smokers shine the coupes\nRich bitches that love the boost\nI'm just here to find the truth\nIf kilograms is the proof\nI done sold the golden goose\nI got 'em, baby, I'm Jim Perdue\nCocaine's Dr. Seuss\n\nWe sip Ace out the flutes\nChanel scarves out the roofs\nIf I never sold dope for you\nThen you're ninety-five percent of who?\nHow forsaken ar\u0435 the rules?\nI done paid for all of you's\nTh\u0435 first 48's the clue\nYour jail cells made for two\nAMGs on auto cruise\nThe wrist singin' autotune\nThe dope game destroyed my youth\nNow Kim Jones Dior my suits\n\nIf money is the evil root\nLet the smokers shine the coupes\nRich bitches that love the boost\nI'm just here to find the truth\nIf kilograms is the proof\nI done sold the golden goose\nI got 'em, baby, I'm Jim Perdue\nCocaine's Dr. Seuss\nYou might also like\nCoca leaf and potpourris\nChains over Le Coq Sportif\nDon't brag bricks to me\nIf they ain't tell you to bring your skis\nMy Patek, hers petit\nThe triple play be E. Phillips\nBird feathers done made me chief\nWhatever happened to black marquise?\nMight buy your bitch a jeep\nI can make you lose your sleep\nYou millionaires on just TV\nNow make it make sense to me\n\nIf money is the evil root\nLet the smokers shine the coupes\nRich bitches that love the boost\nI'm just here to find the truth\nIf kilograms is the proof\nI done sold the golden goose\nI got 'em, baby, I'm Jim Perdue\nCocaine's Dr. Seuss"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easJust So You Remember Lyrics\nAs you come out to the light\nCan your eyes behold the sight?\nIt's only Monday\nTomorrow never comes until it's too late\n\nJust so you remember who you dealing with\nThe number don't change, I know who the chemist is\nBrick by brick, we kept open dealerships\nMitch by mitch, we built up our villages\nSeein' you rappers apply for the stimulus\nLivin' a lie, but die for your images\nIt's guns involved like cowboys and Indians\nYou Trackhawk niggas are not my equivalent\nFlew your bitch to Cuba for the thrill of it\nBut I ain't go, to show you what you shoulda did\nTennis chains to hide all my blemishes\nMy Jok\u0435r smile, you know who the villain is (Hahahahaha!)\nJust so you rem\u0435mber who you dealin' with\nLook outside, the landscape ridiculous\nMotion lights surrounded meticulous\nArchitectural Digest my premises\nShe just spent a million on the finishes\nMillionaires were made out of middlemen\nThat hole in the attic was not for a ceiling fan\nArmy Celine, the wardrobe is militant\nAnd army fatigue when I talk pyramids\nJust so you remember who you dealin' with\nThe purest snow, we sellin' white privilege\nDesigner drugs will turn niggas limitless\nDesigner clothes, these hoes losing innocence\nThe book of blow, just know I'm the Genesis\nYou might also like\nAs you come out to the light\nCan your eyes behold the sight?\nIt's only Monday\nTomorrow never comes until it's too late\n\nJust so you remember who you dealin' with\nThis Pyrex talks, but I'm the ventriloquist\nLanguage different, I'm damn near an immigrant\nA song with any of you niggas, I'm disinterested\nThe needle is sharp, but they ain't shootin' insulin\nYou missing the point, these drums ain't Timbaland's\n\nNever thought we'd go to war\nAfter all the things we saw\nIt's April Fool's Day\nTomorrow never comes until it's too late\n\nWe fight for the bill, you niggas still chipping in\nYou Google to death, the shit I get driven in\nMy boys in the hood is mixed with the menaces\nThe cane is sugar and cut by Dominicans\nOpen the box, it's like ten Christmases\nMy folks in the box is serving life sentences\nI live in a world that never leaves witnesses\nJust so you remember who you dealin' with\nTomorrow never comes until it's too late"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olIntro (Darkest Before Dawn) Lyrics\n\nEspera, ven aqu\u00ed, who you wanna be? Drug Dealer? Demon? Rap nigga? You tryna save the culture? Ay Dios m\u00edo. You gotta pick one, daddy\n\nLeave your conscience at the door\nWe done hid the monsters in the floor\nI speak to the trap lords\nAnd niggas wit their hands in the white like blackboards\nI done been black balled\u00a0\nAnd never gave a fuck \u2018cause I\u2019m Jack Frost\nOf sellin\u2019 that blast off\nI\u2019m on a crash course\nWhere talent meets timing\nChristopher Wallace, Think Big, keep climbing\nReasonable doubt, drug era, keep climbing\nI\u2019m my brother\u2019s keeper, Lord Willin\u2019, keep grindin\u2019\nAs a God amongst men\nRinsed drug money, I done paid for my sins\nBooks and the lawyers, I done paid for my friends\nStill held back, I done paid with my skin\nThe only thing missing is a cape on me\nYou niggas wanna tag a late, great on me\nPut the fears in my peers, heard my footsteps coming from the rear\nNow it\u2019s murder was the case homie\nI\u2019m watching this three ring circus\u00a0\nOld lions don\u2019t roar, so the clowns ain\u2019t nervous\nEven you fools serve purpose\u00a0\nLet \u2018em run amuck until the king resurface\nThen it\u2019s off with your heads\nWear your little jewels, you could floss when you\u2019re dead\nThey take samples of \u2018em, I make examples of \u2018em\nIt\u2019s the thrill of the hunt, I keep my mantle covered\nAsk \u2018Ye who\u2019s loyalty more realer\nAsk P, who\u2019s core\u2019s a drug dealer\nMe and Tim, it's coming, it\u2019s gonna kill \u2018em\nThe only great I ain\u2019t made better was J. Dilla\nNow we breaking new ground\nGet ready for the placing of the crown\nKing Push nigga!\nYou might also like\nA Pablito le dieron pa\u2019 bajo, but I\u2019m still here, y el otro tipo? he\u2019s running, but I\u2019m still here, I don\u2019t even know why you doing this loco, yo ni se pa' que, but always still right here. You wanna be like them, don\u2019t you huh? you\u2019re not like them\u2026 Y definitivamente, they\u2019re not like us"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsAlone in Vegas Lyrics\nI let you into my diary to admire me\nThe make-up of this man, I let you see the higher me\nThe self-righteous drug dealer dichotomy\nI'm drawing from both sides, I am Siamese\nThe tug of war opens the door, entrada\nRip me apart and see what's inside of this pi\u00f1ata\nAnd rolling kilos in Gymstrada, that's one saga\nOne chapter of black magic, I'm Harold Potter\nFeels like I'm doomed to dealing with women who\nRelationships with their fathers won't allow us to bloom\nAnd blossom, I swear them Vegas nights was fucking awesome\nBut adi\u00f3s, I blow my own dice before I toss 'em\nLost some niggas, some other niggas double crossed 'em\nTryna snatch my niggas back, I blew a small fortune\nWrestled with the work, we was like the four horsemen\nRic Flair with the flame, I'm motherfucking Gorgeous (Woo!)\nAs the gull wing doors lift\nKarate Kid crane kick\u2014no Jaden Smith\nWhiter than that coke brush that they paint me with\nSunk leather seats softer than an angel's kiss\nBut they devil red, tires double tread\nI post and parks up, that gets me double head\nTightrope walking, tryna keep a level head\nBut bright lights blind, look at what the devil did\nYou might also like\nShe left the door open, gave a fuck if I'm famous\nI write this alone in Vegas\nCame off fly street money, partied nights with the A-list\nI write this alone in Vegas\nRemember nights when my team blew it all on the tables\nI write this alone in Vegas\nI'm the only one left and the memories fading\nSo I write this alone in Vegas\n\nThey'll do everything in their power\nStomp near the stove when you're rising like flour\nMake your cake fall when you threatening their tower\nIt's 911, you're on your 25th hour\nHasta la vista, I'm steppin' out the bleachers\nHow the tide turns when the pupil's now the teacher\nThe game can't grow by just followin' the leaders\nYou gotta be better than the ones who precede ya, yuugh!\nUpgrade them, upstage them\nChange the whole body shape and just update them, Pagans\nReagan era, I ran contraband\nMoney caused turf wars through the promised land\nFirst time being rich could be a common man\nThe Guy Fishers had the blueprints and diagrams\nWe just took what we needed and we built on it\nLord forgive me for the blood that I spilt on it\nShe left the door open, gave a fuck if I'm famous\nI write this alone in Vegas\nCame off fly street money, partied nights with the A-list\nI write this alone in Vegas\n'Member nights when my team blew it all on the tables\nI write this alone in Vegas\nI'm the only one left and the memories fading\nSo I write this alone in Vegas\n\nYeah, Fear of God niggas\nGot me feelin' like Pac, this the realest shit I ever wrote\nWho you know\nSit in New York for two days around Grammy winners\nCome back home straight to the money getters?\n'Bout fourteen thousand dollars worth of twenties\nBrown paper bag money, yeah\nI call that a good weekend, haha\nRe-Up Gang forever\nLong Live the Caine coming soon\nMalice, my brother, I love you\nLiva Don, 'til the end, nigga, yes\nEmmanuel, hope I ain't get you in no trouble with that shit\nThat was a long time ago, you know? Haha\nYou know how we do\nMy nigga Nottz, is blacking out on this beat, my nigga\nYeah, come on, my nigga Watts, what up?\nYoung Young, what up, my nigga?\nTalk that shit, my nigga\nHey 'Ye, is you ready?\nIs you ready my nigga? I had to get this of my chest\nIs you ready now though? Let's go then\nG.O.O.D. Music, yes"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsDon\u2019t Fuck Wit Me Lyrics\nRe-up gang, G.O.O.D. Music, Def Jam\nI love my family\n\nThe nerve of you\nHe\u2019ll sit and clip at your lines like he ain\u2019t heard of you\nI seen it happen before, that man will murder you\nThe lowest form of a thief is a cat burglar\nTiptoe-in' but the whole while cloning\nThe elephant\u2019s in the room, the bitch glowing\nLike a ghetto girl with the good weave sewn in\nShe walk like its her's but the whole world knowing\nTold niggas it\u2019s the new god flow\nIt\u2019s that New Testament and the old God knows\nAnd you new niggas don\u2019t get to pass go\nI\u2019ll monopolize Boardwalk Empire flow\nSo don\u2019t mention me in the same breath, I\u2019m Genghis\nJust venting I never wished to be famous\nTruth told I\u2019d much rather be strangers\nBefore it leads to me turnin\u2019 niggas to angels\nLocal niggas hatin\u2019 but I can\u2019t blame \u2018em\nClear the road to the riches but I can\u2019t pave \u2018em\nPut Trey up on your hook, still couldn\u2019t save \u2018em\nBetter chance with a snowball hitting Satan\nYou might also like\nDreams money can buy\nThree racks just spent on my Marty McFly's\nNow I\u2019m back to the future, my career deja-vu you\nWhen you muthafuckers thought I would hardly survive\n\nDon't fuck with me\nYou see\nThere's a lot of people out there to be fucked with\nI am not one\nRe-Up Gang\nDon't fuck with me\n\nRappers on their sophomores, actin' like they boss lords\nFame such a funny thing for sure\nWhen niggas start believing all them encores\nI\u2019m just the one to send you off, bonjour\nSee yourself as I pull up in that mirror tint\nSkins vs. blouses, you mirror Prince\nChappelle Show, all of you Neal Brennans\nSketch comedy, who was for real pennin'?\nThe talk don\u2019t match the leather\nThe swag don\u2019t match the sweaters\nAnd wolves don\u2019t walk with shepherds\nThese Margiela verses all you mall dwellers\nOff-the-rack suits looking like pallbearers\nCoffins for my old bitches\u2019 orphans\nDaddy\u2019s MIA like a dolphin\nPlay the Fendi bucket like a shark's fin\nCool J-ing on you bitches but I\u2019m dark-skinned\nWe walked in, seats courtside\nDap Diddy, Will Ferrell on my walk by\nAt the US Open, there\u2019s much more to Queens\nVersace blu-blockers, row behind Oracene\nDreams money can buy\nThree racks just spent on my Marty McFly's\nNow I\u2019m back to the future, my career deja-vu you\nWhen you muthafuckers thought I would hardly survive\n\nPlay Clothes holiday\nIn stores 10\/15\nG.O.O.D. Music, Def Jam\nPush..no shots...but nothing goes unseen"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00easScrape It Off Lyrics\nI just scraped it off the top (Cut it)\nGot it off the road, off the curb, off the block (Cut it)\nWas already sold out of work by ten o'clock (Cut it)\nToo deep in the streets, felt that pain, but it meant a lot\nWhenever she calls, the world, I gotta do (Uh-huh)\nI'm movin' with a tool (Yeah), I pity that fool, woah, yeah, oh\n\nYeah, uh, tell me what I gotta do, pull up in a bucket coupe (Skrrt)\nOne for me and one for you (Huh?), yeah\nLike, what the motherfuck's a roof? (Yeah)\nI'm off the chain, don't cut me loose, yeah\nI'm off the chain, I'm off the noose (The noose)\nYeah, get 'em pick\u0435d off, Bentley white lik\u0435 cotton (Cotton)\nResidential so good, my doors don't gotta lock 'em (Gotta lock 'em, yeah)\nWash the dirty money with Oxi, I miscount 'cause I'm off of Oxy, yeah\nThese niggas faker than a damn proxy\nCallin' my shooter, he said, \"Copy,\" get that nigga plucked like A Boogie\nI like riches, hit like noogies (Noogies), how the fuck you ain't scared of no nigga, but you scared to put on your hoodie?\nMan, my buzz light like Woody\n\nI just scraped it off the top (Cut it)\nGot it off the road, off the curb, off the block (Cut it)\nWas already sold out of work by ten o'clock (Cut it)\nToo deep in the streets, felt that pain, but it meant a lot\nWhenever she calls, the world, I gotta do (Uh-huh)\nI'm movin' with a tool (Yeah), I pity that fool, woah, yeah, oh\nYou might also like\nNew toys (New toys), convoys (Convoys)\nHundred karats on my neck, my boy\nThat a hundred bunny rabbits tryna get, my boy (My boy)\nFrom the cabbage I collect, my boy\nHeard you niggas is gorillas, let me check, my boy (My boy)\nSay nothin' silly you regret, my boy\n'Cause we got banana clips on the TECs, my boy (My boy)\nAnd I can send it in a text, my boy\nThumbs up or the emoji with the flex, my boy (My boy)\nPersonalize every threat, my boy\nToll-free (Toll-free), that's direct, my boy (Word)\nAnd if you need a couple keys, I'm the connect, my boy, off the top\n\nI just scraped it off the top (Cut it)\nGot it off the road, off the curb, off the block (Cut it)\nWas already sold out of work by ten o'clock (Cut it)\nToo deep in the streets, felt that pain, but it meant a lot\nWhenever she calls, the world, I gotta do (Uh-huh)\nI'm movin' with a tool (Yeah), I pity that fool, woah, yeah, oh"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsOnly You Can Tell It Lyrics\n\nIt's coming clear I've noticed\nIt's a different face you're showing\nIt's another \"welcome back\"\nI don't imagine it could be this way, so jealous\nOnly you can tell it tell me why\nOnly you can tell it, only you can say\nOnly you can tell it\nOnly you can say\nOnly you can tell it\nTell me why\nIt's coming clear I've noticed\nIt's a different face you're showing\nIt's another \"welcome back\"\nI don't imagine it could be this way, so jealous\nOnly you can tell it tell me why\nOnly you can tell it, only you can say\nOnly you can tell it\nOnly you can say\nOnly you can tell it\nTell me why\n\nTwo sides, what the game'll do\nBring money, fame to you\nStackin' mine, nigga ye high\nStandin' on it like a pedestal\nCouldn't imagine a better view\nFrom the poolhouse you see four cars\nBad bitches, they skinny dippin'\nMixed college bitches with porn stars\nDisconnected my OnStar, no GPS these VVS\nLorraine Schwartz on speed dial, one ocular, that's CBS\nAston Martin, DBS, James Bond cool as James Todd\nBest nigga to make hits and run base since A-Rod\nHands dirty like Ason, I'm grindin' nigga you J Kwon\nMy Diors is distressed, CDG vest with Jays on\nBloggers get your trace on, 500 horses race on\nCoke ties, that coke dries, it's cemented, it's baked on\nEghck! That's based on, the life of a nigga who ain't said nothin'\nTrunk tight, trunk white, can't relate if you ain't bled nothin'\nNow that there said somethin', don't make me have to dead nothin'\nYou askin' me to tell you why you niggas never had nothin'\nYou might also like\nIt's coming clear I've noticed\nIt's a different face you're showing\nIt's another \"welcome back\"\nI don't imagine it could be this way, so jealous\nOnly you can tell it tell me why\nOnly you can tell it, only you can say\nOnly you can tell it\nOnly you can say\nOnly you can tell it\nTell me why\n\nFolarin back, the hardest out I put us on the map\nMy eyes low, I keep 5 rolled so my THC be makin' sound effects\nWe ain't hatin', cause we ain't y'all, too much Ciroc we CB4\n62, black on black, see my vehicle is like MEAC ball\nShoutout to Norfolk, kicks from Portland, my hoes from Portsmouth\nY'all nick and dime, if a brick was 'round you might need a forklift\nCan't fuck with us cause me and my niggas ride\nThat's right, what up Pusha T, it's DMV for life\nGiuseppe Zanotti, I beg your pardon, respiratory full of Nesta Marley\nThree something for an after party and Balenciaga, I filled Arenas twice\nTell these motherfuckers get me doe\nIceberg Shorty, mu' fuck your Disney store\nAnd remove your words, G double O-D, MMG we good\nGot Zamunda furs, don't know how Akeem, but Pusha's semi cold\nMy nigga Geezy out in VA, I hope you hear these flows\nBehind these walls, still in our thoughts, the city know\nIt's coming clear I've noticed\nIt's a different face you're showing\nIt's another \"welcome back\"\nI don't imagine it could be this way, so jealous\nOnly you can tell it tell me why\nOnly you can tell it, only you can say\nOnly you can tell it\nOnly you can say\nOnly you can tell it\nTell me why"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishSunshine Lyrics\nI say hey, sunshine\nOh how the day can be so long\nI say hey, sunshine\nOh how the day can be so long\n\nAmerica, you need a miracle\nBeyond spiritual\u00a0\nI need a realer view\nI hold a mirror to it\nThese ain\u2019t new problems, they just old ways\nI see one time turn sunshine into Freddie Gray\nJust another nigga dead, just another nigga dead\nSend another to the FEDs, send another to the FEDs\nNot guilty, still I\u2019m filthy\nIn FOX eyes, we the dark side\nSo they tell you lies\nThrough a TV, C-N-B-C\nC-N-N, Don Lemon, no Kweli when you meet me\nIn order to be me\nYou gotta see what Chief Keef see\nBrenda\u2019s baby next door to the candy lady\u00a0\nSame project as Candy Man where they still doing hand-in-hands\nSunday to Sunday, pastor only want one day\nGrandma praying someday\nBut God can\u2019t hear it over gun play\u00a0\nWoo! Still a target, but the badge is the new noose\nYeah, we all see it, but cellphones ain\u2019t enough proof\nSo we still lose\nYou might also like\nI say hey, sunshine\nOh how the day can be so long\nI say hey, sunshine\nOh how the day can be so long\n\nI don\u2019t got no march in me, I can\u2019t turn the other cheek\nWhile they testing your patience, they just testing my reach\nFuneral flowers, every 28 hours\nBeing laid over ours\nSworn to protect and serve, but who really got the power?\nLooking over their allowances\u00a0\nBuilding prisons where the mountains is\nLaptops is for the county kids\nMetal detectors is where ours is\nThey\u2019ll never re-write this, like they re-wrote history\nThe fact that the Statue of Liberty was black is a goddamn mystery\nAnd so it goes, every truth don\u2019t get told\nAll these cops get cleared, and lives are stole\nEvery goose don\u2019t lay gold whoa\nJust another nigga dead, just another nigga dead\nSend another to the FEDs, send another to the FEDs\nThey call in the National Guard\nPublic Enemy, I am Chuck D\nFlavor Flav in Louis V, but I\u2019m Huey P\nWoo! The new elite, it\u2019s either you or me\nLet the sunshine, cause their dark clouds try to ruin me\nIt\u2019s more and more and more than Baltimore\nFrom shore to shore, oh lord\nPatience torn, patience gone, oh lord\n\nI say hey, sunshine\nOh how the day can be so long\nI say hey, sunshine\nOh how the day can be so long"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsAmen Lyrics\nIn the midst of negativity\nA positive sight can be blurred\nAnd the visions that we thought were good\nSeems to let evil occur\nWhile still possessing our human form\nWe live life searching for greatness since the day we was born\nAnd as we bow our heads at night, rich, wealthy\nOr poor with dislike, we pray, asking for\nForgiveness for our sinful ways\nWith mind, body, spirit and faith, we pray\nAmen\n\nYeah (amen) you like that right? (amen)\nI wrote it myself by the way (amen)\nYo, Young, Jeezy, Jizzle, Snowman (amen, amen)\nWe gotta give the streets what they want, man (amen)\nFuck the goddamn shit (amen)\nYou gotta get it in, bruh, let's get it (amen)\n\nYou like that, don\u2019t ya? I wrote it myself, by the way\nAnd I don\u2019t mean to be selfish, but I picture myself gettin' paid\nAnd you might catch pneumonia, 'cause I'm colder than a elf on a sleigh\nUh, me and Pusha back on it, now everybody help us pray\nLord forgive my sins and all my friends\nDollars make sense, I\u2019m tryin' to get paid\nYou might also like\nTryna get saved? (Too late!) time to get paid\nGot a gun and a stockin' mask, niggas thought I was tryna get waves\nI\u2019ma let all y'all niggas pray for it, my young niggas knockin' off a K for it\nSold my soul on the back end, only fuckin' way I\u2019ma pay for it\nFront that shit you put a flame on, my niggas locked in a cage for\nThey keep tellin' me to go hard, number one spot you was made for\nYuugh! I made more, front of the grill, got a racehorse\nCalifornia Crayola red, \"Glow In The Dark\" like a Ye tour\nFuck niggas steppin' in my lane for, not knowin' that it\u2019s a landmine?\nSoon as a nigga feel a cool breeze, throw the top up like a gang sign\nRed or blue, Crip or Blood, solitaires, diamond studs\nLike chandeliers, I\u2019ma flood, black Jesus piece like it\u2019s dipped in mud\nFashion gods, notice mine, rollerball spikes, I\u2019m Pok\u00e9mon\nParis shit, Louis Vuitton, under bright lights, where do you belong?\n\nPlease Lord, yeah, it\u2019s gettin' realer everyday\nNiggas killin\u2019, niggas starvin', ayy, 'cause they can\u2019t find no yay\nSee the first they roll around and their bills they cannot pay\nSo some be trappin', some be dyin', bow our heads and let us pray\nAmen\n\nAmen, how many people do you know hatin\u2019\nOn your downfall, sittin' there, waitin\u2019?\nWhen you shine, I don't know what they gon' say then\nEverything I do now stadiums\nSo tell me what they really gon\u2019 say to him\nAnd I\u2019m headed straight to the ATM\nFinna go HAM, nigga finna go in\nNigga you'll get it when pigs fly\nWhen Yeezy fake, Devil\u2019s pie\nPiece of cake, Kit-Kat\nI need a break, God\u2019s child\nJesus Christ, club like a broken neck\nI need the ice, I need the lights, uhh\nIn Egypt they fightin\u2019 for freedom\nCop pull you over, no reason, beat 'em\nPlease Lord, yeah, it\u2019s gettin' realer everyday\nNiggas killin\u2019, niggas starvin', ayy, 'cause they can\u2019t find no yay\nSee the first they roll around and their bills they cannot pay\nSo some be trappin', some be dyin', bow our heads and let us pray\nAmen\n\nI got them units packed in that black van like the A-Team\nEven seen 'em come 2-tone like a Saleen (Saleen?)\nSaleen, yeah that\u2019s a Mustang\nBreak \u2018em down in the night, that's what I call hustlin'\nThey say they want that dumb shit, well, this is ignorant\nCondo on the timepiece, yeah, now that's ignorant\nThey like, \"Young, you a fool\", yeah I coulda bought some real estate\nInstead I bought a half a block and tried to sew up half the streets\nI\u2019m on 75-75, when they was going for the 25\nGuess who\u2019s pickin\u2019 up a trey? Just an ordinary day\nWith extraordinary pay, extraordinary risk\nCan\u2019t even explain, got an extraordinary wrist\nI talk it 'cause I lived it' man, this shit ain't really nothin' to me\nTell ya like Sosa told Tony, \u201cDon't you fuck with me\u201d\n\nPlease Lord, yeah, it\u2019s gettin' realer everyday\nNiggas killin\u2019, niggas starvin', ayy, 'cause they can\u2019t find no yay\nSee the first they roll around and their bills they cannot pay\nSo some be trappin', some be dyin', bow our heads and let us pray\nAmen\nAmen, amen, amen, amen\nAmen, amen, amen, amen\nAmen, amen, amen, amen"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsTick, Tock Lyrics\nKing Push\nRZA\nRazor\nExecution\n\nThe devil is a lie\nYou ain't broke bread 'till you taste the devil's pie\nThey say his laugh sounds like an angel when he cries\nWhat better camouflage when the halo's your disguise\nThem wings don't fly; your traitor is your neighbor\nAt your front porch, and he's handing you your paper\nBathrobe on, but the sword's underneath\nAnd he wanna see your blood as it pours in the street\nIt's the mark of the beast\nThe meek shall inherit the Earth; the weak shall inherit the dirt\nYou each should have perished at birth, stillborn or aborted\nEvery street tax gotta come with an audit\nEither your life, or your loved ones, straight razor or a snub-gun\nFrom the village where the thugs from\nSame corner that you copping all your drugs from\nHe a hero, but he unsung, I'm the one\n\nAyo homie, the chambers is 36, they new and improved\nNow make a move, these guns whistle, sizzle up dudes\nWho got big mouths, no power\nRun in the bank with no dollars, got the nerve to switch crews\nWe better than the rest of 'em, my guess is the estrogen\nAnd all the money we got, we move like the Mexicans\nA cartel, compound, a carvel, a large scale in Scarsdale\nI fuck with golf now, Shallah is ill\nYeah, the coke is fresh, straight out of Bermuda yo\nOr chilling on a beach in Boca Chica\nWith tuna salads and palaces, yo, we smoke out them chalices\nPassing of the balances of bread to the Island since\n1984, the blow was just more\nThen we would come trough with rifles rockin Nike boots and war\nA real nigga's invention that came from a henchman\nWho blew up, now throw the Wu up, that's my redemption\nYou might also like\nDrug dealer, been that nigga half my life\nDrug dealer, been that nigga half my life\nYou niggas talking, but you ain't never seen 'em\nImagine being first name basis with the kingpin\n\nGod, I was Lucifer's neighbor\nYou wouldn't believe some of the things these people do for this paper\nMoving with lasers under Rugers\nMake a move, you make the papers, lose lose situation\nSweat or blood, you get to choose what you bathe in\nThe chemists cookwork, the runners; footwork\nThe custies took work, the soldiers put work in\nOn any of the motherfuckers who fucked up good work\nBosses tell 'em: 'Good work,' that's just how the hood work\nNorthface bubble with eight bundles under it\nGold front upper-lip smile while I was hugging it\nI lied, I wasn't Lucifer's neighbor, he who I'm fucking with\nMy moms threw that snow in her nose, but I would hustle it\nChamp hoodie, Mongoose with the pegs\nClap your stoop up, hit moms duke in her legs\nThat's beef nigga, y'all ain't street niggas\nY'all peep niggas, write it down and try to be niggas\nFucking everything, neck heavy swing\nSecond-hand swept across that pretty Breitling\nIn that Nissan, Honda, Chevy thing peddling\nWhatever bring 'fetti in, steadily I fed my whole team\nDrug dealer, been that nigga half my life\nDrug dealer, been that nigga half my life\nYou niggas talking, but you ain't never seen 'em\nImagine being first name basis with the kingpin\n\nIn this art of war, my pen stroke is Picasso\nNiggas get the picture I ain't got to paint the nostrils\nYou know my origins is over when\nFat black bitches singing over organs\nDie for a dollar, pride you don't swallow\nYou save that for the one you buying red bottoms\nYuugh! That's the price you gotta pay for it\nAll's fair in love and war, she masquerade for it\nWoo! Jack-O-Lantern Push\nTrick or treat, fuck your shit, I earned it off the books\nNow listen to me vent\nWhen you sitting watch, it's like the tires being spent\nShots from everywhere, but they never make a dent\nKnight in shining armor\nMistake me for the villain cause my vengeance is your karma\nYeah, fear is knowing you're a goner\nThis music to my soul, cause it's death before dishonor\nGone\nCheck! Got the tongue of a pimp, raised by a dirty preacher\nThat used the church money to cop a new Beamer\nGot the heart of a child raised by a prostitute\nThat bought his momma the rubbers when a John came through\nIt\u2019s the microphone methadone, greatest ever etched in stone\nYou ain\u2019t getting pussy like your prom date had a chaperone\nPopping pills got a nigga brain like a labyrinth\nCalled the ho on purpose but I got the brain on accident\nNigga I\u2019m your majesty, show up with a bag of weed\nRolled a blunt so perfect, thought it came up out a factory\nMy manuscript leave a man ripped of all his dreams\nThe insomniac with nightmares in sixteens\nI\u2019m a wet dream, dry sense of humor\nTravel in class like a high school rumor\nNo one really cares if you embarrass us with style\nCause when it comes to them raps you been letting us down\nSo tell em why you're mad son\nGotta get it off your chest, let em know how you feel son\nYou gotta say what you say\nIt don\u2019t matter, they gonna say a nigga hating anyway"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsBlow (Freestyle) Lyrics\nMalice found religion, Tony found prison\nI\u2019m just tryna find my way out this fucking kitchen\nA birds eye view got me channelling my vision\nTurn one to two now the kilo\u2019s got a sibling\nFather knows best, wash my hands all's forgiven\nWe kicking up dust like the colosseum floors\nWalls full of safes like they mausoleum doors\nPussy getting wet as she walking through my morgue\nGrants, Jacksons, no room for George\nYeh, the fear of God\u2019s in you muthafuckas\nThis art imitate my life\nYour World Star Hip Hop fame based off imitation white\nEliminate the fool's gold and imitation ice\nMy music for your soul, inspiration for your life\nEvery dime I made in this life wasn't disastrous\nHelp my young bitch see my way through the Bachelors\nSent my old bitch right back to get her Masters\nSame graduation I was clapping in the rafters\nThe truth hurts everytime it\u2019s revealed\nWhat goes around comes around, this is life's ferris wheel\nGrab hold and reverse the steering wheel\nAs I parrallel park, Kentucky Derby on the grill\nThe fact that I\u2019m free lets me know God is great\nTen year marathon of me selling concentrate\nThese rappers talk crowns but I\u2019d rather talk fear\nVillain like Candyman, say my name and I\u2019ll appear\nNo weapon formed against me shall prosper\nHakuna matata, feet up sipping java\nStrolling up the totem pole, what\u2019s my only problem?\nScrolling through my Rolodex, who shall bear my toddler\nSo many hands raised as the band plays\nI\u2019m here now, watch how many nigga's plans change\nFirst class flights, Ciroc soaked nights\nWaking up to models, what a motherfuckin lifeYou might also like"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishKeep Dealing Lyrics\nThey call him a crack dealer, I am like Warhol\nA nigga paint a picture of a bullet for all y\u2019all\nNow crawl for him\nMy sophomore jinx is more minks\nBut only for my mother she\u2019ll use \u2018em as couch covers\nYou niggas cheapening my All-Star Weekends\nIf y\u2019all can\u2019t swim in the deep end then watch nigga\nWoo! 80,000 on this watch niggas\nYuugh! And I ain\u2019t never had to watch nigga\nRich or wealthy, pick your poison\nI think I paid for one too many abortions\u00a0\nAnother Celine, it\u2019s like a routine\nIt\u2019s like a ferris wheel of waist trainers and Seven jeans\nHer new body's in my new body\nMake her in an hourglass that\u2019s my new hobby\nRich nigga shit, how I blew my first million\nLuckily was somethin\u2019 in the ceiling, keep dealin\n\nTalk numbers, but never talk \u2018em to me though\nWhen you\u2019re the link to what fits in the keyhole\nThe realest nigga to marathon on the RICO\nThe last cocaine superhero\nI got the cape on, to cover kilos\nThe villain wins, the evolution of Nino\nGoddamn Batman holy toledo\nNah, you ain\u2019t talkin\u2019 to me though\nYou might also like\nThe Robb Report of the snort\nKings hold court\nLawyers get bought\nPalms get greased when them cases get fought\nNo felony what the fuck is you tellin\u2019 me\nReduced to simple assault\nIt cost to keep it hush-hush\nIt was just us\nEnded up sellin\u2019 my Bat Mobile\nThe crash don\u2019t kill\nIt\u2019s how you survives it\nRebound on niggas, I nine live\u2019d it\nCouldn\u2019t miss a Super Bowl or a Cancun\nBitches ain\u2019t respecting niggas not in full bloom\nSo the neck is full moon\nI\u2019m living a lie, she live for this life\nAnd loving the Alaia pumps\nLoving the rush, I\u2019m living \u201cThe Wire\u201d Uh\nDrugs and this rap is really \u201cEmpire\u201d\nRich nigga shit, how I lost my second million\nLuckily was somethin\u2019 in the ceiling, keep dealin ya\n\nTalk numbers, but never talk \u2018em to me though\nWhen you\u2019re the link to what fits in the keyhole\nThe realest nigga to marathon on the RICO\nThe last cocaine superhero\nI got the cape on, to cover kilos\nThe villain wins, the evolution of Nino\nGoddamn Batman holy toledo\nNah, you ain\u2019t talkin\u2019 to me though\nTen toes deep in the trap, nigga I\u2019m good here\nFeelin\u2019 like Tony reading words on the Goodyear\nBig said, \u201cOnly the FEDs I should fear\u201d\nSo no threat, be on your steps with the whole hood there\nYeah, shoot up shit then we blow the scene\nKerosene in a 20 ounce Poland Spring\nNothing to lose attitude like Ron from Arizona\nIt\u2019s homicide when I slide up on ya\nReporting live from the project benches\nHella 'caine, dope in cellophane, dirty syringes\u00a0\nHeron zombies street-walking on three-week binges\nClientele look like the \u201cThriller\u201d vid in 3D lenses\nCOD, niggas never had to front me jawns\nI\u2019m weighing bricks on the scale they put the lunch meat on\nI\u2019m Nino Brown in the projects\nYes, Curtis Jackson in his pyrex\nGet rich or die tryin\u2019 is my mindset\nAnd spend it all until I\u2019m swallowing dirt\n'Cause I ain\u2019t never see a Brinks truck follow a hearse\u00a0\nI ain\u2019t never see a dead man taking the stand\nI ain\u2019t never see a nigga swallow a bullet\u00a0\nAnd live to talk about it\n'Bout that bread, I drop a coffin 'bout it\nYou watched me go through hell, now watch me walk up out it\nNigga shit, that\u2019s how I lost three million\nLuckily was somethin\u2019 in the ceiling, keep dealin ya"}
{"text":"Are you alright?\nI'm alright, I'm quite alright\nAnd my money's right\n8\u2026 (Yeah)\nCountin' them bands\nAll way to the top 'til they be fallin' over\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nCountin' them bands\nOn my way to the top 'til we fallin' over\n\nI don't really care if you cry\nOn the real, you should've never lied\nShould've saw the way she looked me in my eyes\nShe said, \"Baby, I am not afraid to die\"\nPush me to the edge\nAll my friends are dead\nPush me to the edge\nAll my friends are dead\nPush me to the edge\nAll my friends are dead\nPush me to the edge\n\nPhantom that's all red, inside all white\nLike somethin' you ride a sled down, I just want that head\nMy Brittany got mad, I'm barely her man now\nEverybody got the same swag now\nWatch the way that I tear it down\nStackin' my bands all the way to the top\nAll the way 'til my bands fallin' over\nEvery time that you leave your spot\nYour girlfriend call me like, \"Come on over!\"\nI like the way that she treat me\nGon' leave you, won't leave me, I call it that Casanova\nShe say I'm insane, yeah\nWanna blow my brain out (Hey)\nXanny, help the pain, yeah\nPlease, Xanny, make it go away\nI'm committed, not addicted, but it keep control of me\nAll the pain, now I can't feel it\nI swear that it's slowin' me, yeah\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI don't really care if you cry\nOn the real, you should've never lied\nSaw the way she looked me in my eyes\nShe said, \"I am not afraid to die\" (Yeah)\nAll my friends are dead\nPush me to the edge (Yeah)\nAll my friends are dead, yeah, ooh\nPush me to the edge\nAll my friends are dead, yeah\nAll my friends are dead, yeah\n\nThat is not your swag, I swear you fake hard\nNow these niggas wanna take my cadence (Yeah)\nRain on 'em, thunderstorm, rain on 'em (Ooh, yeah)\nMake some, lil' nigga, take some (Yeah, yeah)\nFast car, NASCAR, race on 'em\nIn the club, ain't got no ones, then we would become (Yeah)\nClothes from overseas, got the racks and they all C-Notes\nYou is not a G though\nLookin' at you stackin' all your money, it all green though\nI was countin' that and these all twenties, that's a G-roll\n\nShe say, \"You're the worst, you're the worst\"\nI cannot die because this my universe\nI don't really care if you cry\nOn the real, you should've never lied\nShould've saw the way she looked me in my eyes\nShe said, \"Baby, I am not afraid to die\"\nPush me to the edge\nAll my friends are dead\nPush me to the edge\nAll my friends are dead\nPush me to the edge\nAll my friends are dead\nPush me to the edge"}
{"text":"That's true (That's true), that's right (That right, that right)\nShe's sipping Mo\u00ebt, and yeah, I swear it get her wetter\nMy Louboutins new, so my bottoms, they is redder (Yeah, it's red)\nNo I'm not a rat but I'm all about my cheddar ('Bout my bread)\nJust talked to your homie she said we should be together (Yeah)\nGave me brain, was so insane that I made her my header (Woah)\nIf she ever call my phone you know I gotta dead her\nBut I like that girl too much, I wish I never met her\n\nHello\nI was listening to this song\nIt go like\n\nI know it hurts sometimes but you'll get over it (Yeah)\nYou'll find another life to live (Yeah)\nI swear that you'll get over it\nI know you're sad and tired\nYou've got nothing left to give (Yeah)\nYou'll find another life to live (Yeah)\nI know that you'll get over it (Yeah)\n\nWish I never ever ever told you things\nI was only only trying to show you things (Yeah)\nIced out heart on your neck tried to froze your ring\nI had to get me a new bitch to hold the pain\nWe was in Hawaii looking at the ring (Damn, yeah)\nShe smiling happy but I'm laughing 'cause her new man's a lame\n(Broke boy, broke boy, broke boy, broke boy)\nDamn, that just goes to show me money don't attract a thing (Real shit)\nStuck to the plan even though you used to go with my mans\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI know it hurts sometimes but you'll get over it (Yeah)\nYou'll find another life to live\nI swear that you'll get over it\nAnd I know you're sad and tired\nYou've got nothing left to give (Yeah)\nYou'll find another life to live (Ayy)\nI know that you'll get over it\n\nSee, I tied up my Raf, you strapped up your Rick\nDiamonds on your neck, ice all on my wrist\nComplement my style\nShe don't want me, I'm running wild\nYou know I respect her on that level\nShe don't want me then I'ma let her (Bye)\nGo over there with that broke fella (Go over)\nWalk off my Saint Laurent, that leather, ooh (Yeah)\nMy new chick I swear that she better, ooh\nWant me back, never (Ooh)\n\nThat's true (That's true), that's right (That right, that right)\nShe's sipping Mo\u00ebt, and yeah I swear it get her wetter (Woah)\nMy Louboutins new, so my bottoms, they is redder (Yeah, it's red)\nNo, I'm not a rat but I'm all about my cheddar ('Bout my bread)\nJust talked to your homie she said we should be together (Yeah)\nGave me brain, was so insane that I made her my header (Woah)\nIf she ever call my phone you know I gotta dead her\nBut I like that girl too much, I wish I never met her\nI know it hurts sometimes but (Woah), you'll get over it (But why?)\nYou'll find another life to live (You'll find)\nI swear that you'll get over it (You'll get over it)\nI know it hurts sometimes but you'll get over it (No, no)\nYou'll find another life to live (You will)\nI know that you'll get over it (Oh)\n\nThat's true, that's right\nShe's sipping Mo\u00ebt, and yeah, I swear it get her wetter\nMy Louboutins new, so my bottoms, they is redder\nNo I'm not a rat but I'm all about my cheddar\nJust talked to your homie she said we should be together (You will get over it)\nGave me brain, was so insane that I made her my header\nIf she ever call my phone you know I gotta dead her\nBut I like that girl too much, I wish I never met her"}
{"text":"Hmm\nNew Patek on my wrist\nWhite diamonds, them shits hit pink\nAlright, I'm ready\n\nNew Patek on my wrist (Yeah)\nWhite diamonds, them shits hit pink (Yeah, yeah)\nGot cold, had to go get a mink (Yeah)\nNew finger rings hit like a sink (Yeah, yeah)\nYou a bad bitch, then we can link (What?)\nHit the shower, you might stink, hello (Yeah)\nBitches bad, yeah, they all migrate (Uh)\nAnd she said \"Lil Uzi so great (Uh, uh)\nHow you deal with all that hate?\" (Uh-uh)\nShut up, bitch, don't give me migraine\nNew Patek on my wrist\nWhite diamonds, them shits hit pink\nGot cold, had to go get a mink\nNew finger rings hit like a sink (Water)\nYou a bad bitch, then we can link\nHit the shower, you might stink\nBitches bad, yeah, they all migrate (Uh-uh)\nAnd she said \"Lil Uzi so great\"\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nOkay, and your girlfriend like my drip (Drip)\nHappy birthday to that bitch (Bitch)\nYeah, the one that sucked my dick (Dick)\nTriple S got that extra grip (Grip)\nSo you know I cannot slip (Slip)\n\nThat jeweler made me proud of my wrist (Wrist)\nFranck Muller made me proud of my wrist (Wrist)\nFranck Muller made me proud of my wrist (Wrist)\nMy shooters gon' shoot, can't miss (Grrah)\nMy shooter got a 30 on his hip (Bah)\nYeah, I need my fix\nWas that a pair of boots from Rick? (Rick)\nHad to tell that lil' girl don't trip (Woah)\nCool blood, but my money Crip\nGot clap on lights, no flick\nCan't take no pic, no flick (No cameras)\nFuck that bitch in my new whip (Skrrt)\nHer ass so fat, can't fit\nHer ass so fat, it's amazing (Amazing)\nHer ass so fat, it's a miracle (Miracle)\nHer last man money hysterical\nShe from the six one nine, Rey Mysterio (Let's go)\nYeah, I'm the same nigga bustin' through your stereo\nYeah, my boys on the block selling O's, no Cheerios\nI don't wake up in the mornin' for cereal\nFlip the brick, make the whole shit do an aerial\nAir the shit out and make the ho sing, Ariel (Yah)\nSilencers so they really cannot hear me though\nKillin' these beats, yeah, Lil Uzi a serial\nClean up the body, prepare for the burial\nBurberry pants, I got Burberry tennis shoes\nI got the swag that probably, um, will finish you\nI am a octopus, I cannot breathe without water\nSo I put diamonds on my tentacles\nHow is you stoppin' us? They is not toppin' us\nYou know I had to cop that shit just by the twos\nBlood in my chakra, I will not pop at ya\nPut money on my head just for your album, bruh\nTell me, lil' boy, if it's beef I can chop this shit up\nLike it's prime and treat you like it's Optimus\nMy chain is white gold your shit look like copper, bruh\nMCM, yeah, that shit made out of ostrich, bruh\nBut I don't wear it, give that to my hoes\nYeah, I swear that lil' nigga my clone\nYeah, I had to do this shit all by my own\nYeah, it's slime shit, lil' baby, put diamonds in my nose (Slatt)\nNew Patek on my wrist (Yeah)\nWhite diamonds, them shits hit pink (Yeah, yeah)\nGot cold, had to go get a mink (Yeah)\nNew finger rings hit like a sink (Yeah, yeah)\nYou a bad bitch, then we can link (What?)\nHit the shower, you might stink, hello (Yeah, yeah)\nBitches bad, yeah, they all migrate (Uh)\nAnd she said \"Lil Uzi so great (Uh, uh)\nHow you deal with all that hate?\" (Uh-uh)\nShut up, bitch, don't give me migraine\n\nAnd your girlfriend like my drip (Drip)\nHappy birthday to that bitch (Bitch)\nYeah, the one that sucked my dick (Dick)\nTriple S got that extra grip (Grip)\nSo you know I cannot slip (Slip)\nThat jeweler made me proud of my wrist (Wrist)\nFranck Muller made me proud of my wrist\nFranck Muller made me proud of my wrist\nNew Rollie made me proud of my wrist\nAP make me proud of my wrist\nNew Richard on my wrist\nGot a milli' that's all in my bank (Milli')\nNew Patek on my wrist\nWhite diamonds, them shits hit pink (Let's go)\nGot cold, had to go get a mink\nNew finger rings hit like a sink (Let's go)\nYou a bad bitch, then we can link (What?)\nHit the shower, you might stink\nBitches bad, yeah, they all migrate\nAnd she said \"Lil Uzi so great (Great)\nHow you deal with all that hate?\" (Hate)\nShut up, bitch, don't give me migraine (Uh)\n\nThrow up gang signs, Naruto (Uh)\nPut metal in my nose like Pain (Uh)\nMan, I never saw this bitch before (Uh)\nHow the fuck she know my name? (Yeah)\nShe said, \"Lil Uzi, hello\"\nI looked at her, \"Oh, hey\" (Hello)\nYou ain't never seen pastry dough\nWell lil' bitch, I got cake (Yeah)\nGettin' money, I'm the man\nGettin' money, had to count the advance\nSaint Laurent on my shoes, these not Vans\nNeed a fan case a nigga get hot\n'Member she ain't want me back, I was popped\nOn the block back before I had locks (Yeah)\nRed dot for a chicken, he popped\nMC told the bitch eat my cock\nMotorcycle days, bitch, Yung Joc\nThat's what I call her, she all on my top\nRap star or do he sell rock?\nHe got files so he beatin' the trial\nCouple racks and them niggas run wild\nSuper filthy, man, they livin' so foul\nI got some real niggas that's locked up\nTryna shade the bar just for the foul\nAll these hackers, yeah, these niggas is foul\nAll my bitches want me to take a vow\nLive off verbs, and I live off of nouns\nHe get money, then I had to say, \"How?\"\nNew rug, and it's made out of wolf\nNew rabbit, yeah, I use as a towel\nLil' bitch, yeah, I run through the city\nDifferent spots in it just like a cow\nYeah, I'm talkin' 'bout a mansion, no house\nYeah, my closet, yeah, that shit got a house\nFour years, I ain't even see a mouse\nPlease stop talkin', bitch, put dick in your mouth\nWe get money, what the fuck is a drought?\nMake it rain 'cause I'm up in the clouds\nHad to tell that lil' bitch, get from around\n'Cause that little bitch be fuckin' with clowns\n\nLet's go, let's go, had to tell that lil' bitch, yeah, let's go (Let's go, let's go)\nThat lil' nigga stole my swag and he tried to steal my flow (My flow, my flow)\nI had to switch it up one time just like I switch my phone (My phone, my phone)\nI could try one more time, I can give this shit one more go (Let's go, ayy)\nI put hundreds in my safe (Ayy)\nI throw twenties in her face (Ayy)\nI put the M in a J (Ayy)\nI got a bae in the Bay (Ayy)\nI fucked on that nigga little bitch\nThat's the reason he tryna say that I'm gay (Ayy)\nWay more coochie than Kay Slay (Ayy)\nI sell a mil' in a day (Ayy)\nAll of my bitches they grade A\nI did not get in Canada\nBut when I'm in Toronto they treat me like Drake\nThis a light jet, this a flight day\nHad that lil' bitch, that's on MySpace\nI can feel this shit in my veins\nLook at my neck, that's an ice tray\nCome on tell me, what you sayin'?\n(What you sayin'? What you sayin'? What you sayin'?)\n\nAnd your girlfriend like my drip (Drip)\nHappy birthday to that bitch (Bitch)\nYeah, the one that sucked my dick (Dick)\nTriple S got that extra grip (Grip)\n(Oh yeah)\nFranck Muller made me proud of my wrist (Wrist)\nFranck Muller made me proud of my wrist (Wrist)\nNew Rollie made me proud of my wrist (Woo, woo)\nAP make me proud of my wrist (Woo)\nNew Richard on my wrist (Woo)\nGot a milli' that's all in my bank (Woo, woo)\n\nNew Patek on my wrist (Yeah)\nWhite diamonds, them shits hit pink (Yeah, yeah)\nGot cold, had to go get a mink (Yeah)\nNew finger rings hit like a sink (Yeah, yeah)\nYou a bad bitch, then we can link (What?)\nHit the shower, you might stink (Yeah, yeah)\nBitches bad, yeah, they all migrate (Uh)\nAnd she said \"Lil Uzi so great (Uh, uh)\nHow you deal with all that hate?\" (Uh-uh)\nShut up, bitch, don't give me migraine\n\nThrow up gang signs, Naruto (Yeah)\nPut metal in my nose like Pain (Uh)\nMan, I never saw this bitch before (Uh)\nHow the fuck she know my name?\nShe said, \"Lil Uzi, hello\" (Uh)\nI looked at her, \"Oh, hey\"\nYou ain't never seen pastry dough (Yeah)\nTell lil' bitch, I got cake (Ayy)\nGettin' money, I'm the man\nGettin' money, had to count the advance\nSaint Laurent all on my shoes, these not Vans\nNeed a fan in case a nigga get hot\n'Member she ain't want me back, I was popped\nOn the block back before I had locks\nRed dot for a chicken, he popped\nMC, told the bitch eat my cock\n\nYeah, yeah, that's it"}
{"text":"Hit it from the back, watch a nigga bless you (Bless you)\n(If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you)\nCryin' in my arms like a nigga wrecked you (Wrecked you)\n(Metro Boomin' want some more, nigga)\n\nYeah, alright, alright, alright\nYou was right (Right), I was wrong (Right)\nYeah, I should've never ever took her home (No)\nYeah, I should've just boned (What?)\nYeah, fantasy on my phone (Yeah)\nYeah, hit it from the back, watch a nigga bless you (Ayy)\nYeah, cryin' in my arms like a nigga wrecked you (Ayy)\nTalkin' 'bout a broken heart, runnin' to the restroom, yeah (What?)\n\nYeah, looked at my mama just like, we rich (Yeah)\nLooked at my bitch like, we rich\nSaid, we ain't got no minor setbacks (No)\nCountin' all that money, told that nigga just to bet that\nI, I know that you ain't got it, boy, why you ain't just say that? (Yeah)\nThey see I got that money, now his bitch like, \"I said that\" (Yeah)\nI don't pay that ho no mind, I've been had that\nWhen I, when I saw my girl, yeah, you know I had to bag that (Yeah)\nAnd before me, four niggas, yeah, they had that\nFive niggas includin' me, I had to back back\nTry to diss me, I'll take it to your family (Yeah)\nI'll fuck your sister, then make sure that she vanish, yeah\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nYeah, alright, alright, alright\nYou was right (Right), I was wrong (Right)\nYeah, I should've never ever took her home (No)\nYeah, I should've just boned (What?)\nYeah, fantasy on my phone (Yeah)\nYeah, hit it from the back, watch a nigga bless you (Ayy)\nYeah, cryin' in my arms like a nigga wrecked you (Ayy)\nTalkin' 'bout a broken heart, runnin' to the restroom, yeah (What?)\nYeah, alright, alright, alright\nYou was right (Right), I was wrong (Right)\nYeah, I should've never ever took her home (No)\nYeah, I should've just boned (What?)\nYeah, fantasy on my phone (Yeah)\nYeah, hit it from the back, watch a nigga bless you (Ayy)\nYeah, cryin' in my arms like a nigga wrecked you (Ayy)\nTalkin' 'bout a broken heart, runnin' to the restroom, yeah (What?)\n\nEven though we in the same room (Shh)\nYou just locked the door, so I gotta text you (Yeah, yeah)\nLike, bae, unlock the door, I gotta use the restroom\nLike, I don't want a war, I wanna caress you, yeah (Yeah)\n\nYeah, alright, alright, alright\nYou was right (Right), I was wrong (Right)\nYeah, I should've never ever took her home (No)\nYeah, I should've just boned (What?)\nYeah, fantasy on my phone (Yeah)\nYeah, hit it from the back, watch a nigga bless you (Ayy)\nYeah, cryin' in my arms like a nigga wrecked you (Ayy)\nTalkin' 'bout a broken heart, runnin' to the restroom, yeah"}
{"text":"Yeah, it do not matter\nTurned to a savage, pocket got fatter, she call me daddy\nSmokin' that gas, gone off that Xanny, she on the powder\nNowadays I am on, my haters got sadder\nMoney got longer, speaker got louder, car got faster\nTurned to a savage, pocket got fatter, she call me daddy\nSmokin' that gas, gone off that Xanny, she on the powder\nNowadays I am on, my haters got sadder\nMoney got longer, speaker got louder, car got faster\n\nMoney so old, dollars spoiled (Spoiled)\nYeah, my lil' bitch so spoiled (Spoiled)\nYeah, I rub her down in oil\nYeah, I got money, now you know it, yeah\nDiamonds on my teeth\nYeah, your shit look like foil\nYeah, Chris Brown said these hoes ain't loyal, yeah\nNone of these hoes got no morals, yeah\nAll my niggas G-ed up\nYeah, my glasses be Dita\nNever thought that it'd be days I could kick my feet up (Huh?)\nNever thought that she would need me that much if I leave her\n\nIt do not matter\nTurned to a savage, pocket got fatter, she call me daddy\nSmokin' that gas, gone off that Xanny, she on the powder\nNowadays I am on, my haters got sadder\nMoney got longer, speaker got louder, car got faster\nTurned to a savage, pocket got fatter, she call me daddy\nSmokin' that gas, gone off that Xanny, she on the powder\nNowadays I am on, my haters got sadder\nMoney got longer, speaker got louder, car got faster\nTurned to a savage, pocket got fatter, she call me daddy\nSmokin' that gas, gone off that Xanny, she on the powder\nNowadays I am on, my haters got sadder\nMoney got longer, speaker got louder, car got faster\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nAll of this was faction\nNo time for actin', all this money lastin'\nLike, go out to eat, get that blackened salmon\nWhen I'm with my girl, we Pharrell and Vashtie\nWait, huh? That mean we are not lastin'\nIn that pussy, you know I like it rough, then I'm just blastin'\nYeah, tell that lil' bitch that I'm really from Mars\nUh, yeah, bitch, do not start\nYeah, pull up, my car automatic\nYeah, uh, done with the start, yeah\n\nIt do not matter\nTurned to a savage, pocket got fatter, she call me daddy\nSmokin' that gas, gone off that Xanny, she on the powder\nNowadays I am on, my haters got sadder\nMoney got longer, speaker got louder, car got faster\nTurned to a savage, pocket got fatter, she call me daddy\nSmokin' that gas, gone off that Xanny, she on the powder\nNowadays I am on, my haters got sadder\nMoney got longer, speaker got louder, car got faster"}
{"text":"(Oogie Mane, he killed it)\n(Supah Mario on the beat, nigga)\nLet's go\nLet's go, yeah (Pew)\n\nStay so fresh, so clean, think they like me (Like me)\nI wear more Supreme than a hypebeast (Than a hypebeast)\nOnly blue, no, green don't excite me (Excite me)\nI could make a ho out your wifey (Out your wifey)\nJeremy Scott up on my toes, act like Shockey (Woah)\nMade her get down on the bottom and she top me (Let's go)\nPull up extra icy, I'm not playin' hockey (Bling, blaow)\nNiggas think I'm weird and they don't really like me (Like me)\n\n'Cause I could fuck your bitch and fuck your mom and auntie (Yeah)\nYour girl's a five, but your mom is a dime piece (Ayy)\nAnd your auntie, her name is Miss Connie (Miss Connie)\nI got one Glock, his name Clyde, the other one named Bonnie (Let's go)\nThese bitches, they think they dandy, but they be just lyin' (Bitches lie)\nThat lil' bitch, can't throw it back, I swear that ho be tryin' (Tryin')\nWhen I fuck her from the front it sound like that bitch dyin' (On God)\nVVS, I need a vest, anemic my diamonds (Woah)\nI swear these niggas talk shit but they really be hidin' (Woo)\nHad that boy's bitch on my dick, that ho, she was just ridin' (Yeah, yeah)\nDiamonds on my neck so wet, that shit look like Poseidon (So wet, water)\nI stand on my money, then my height, it turn to 9' 10\" (Yeah)\nYeah, these niggas be bitin' (Fuck)\nGrra-ta, I'm not really with the fightin' (Grra-ta)\nYeah, me and her was vibin' (Yeah, vibin')\nYeah, yeah (Yeah)\nYour bitch call me Myron (Call me...)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nStay so fresh, so clean, think they like me (Like me)\nI wear more Supreme than a hypebeast (Than a hypebeast)\nOnly blue, no, green don't excite me (Excite me, green)\nI could make a ho out your wifey (Out your wifey)\nJeremy Scott up on my toes, act like Shockey (Woah)\nMade her get down on the bottom and she top me (Let's go)\nPull up extra icy, I'm not playin' hockey (Hockey, bling, blaow)\nNiggas think I'm weird and they don't really like me (Like me)\n\nNinety thousand, that's a light band, (Yeah) yeah (Ninety thousand, that's a light)\nI can tell you, it's the real spill (I can tell you, it's the real)\nYeah, fucked your bitch just for a light bill (Yeah)\nYeah, banana clip, I won't slip on the peel\nI can't slip, slip, slip, no, no, I can't miss\nI got icebergs on my neck, I can sink a ship\nOuter space swag, not regular, Titanic my whip\nIn the hood, I'm not regular, I just brung my stick, baby\nOh, you think I give a fuck because I'm rich, baby? (Huh?)\nCome on, baby, let's have sex and have a rich baby\nShe said, \"I thought you ain't do that,\" well, you dismissed, baby (Bye-bye)\nUh, young nigga, no, I ain't changed, Lil Uzi from the 6', baby (Yeah)\nUh, I don't think they like me (Nah)\nBut when I drop this song, I know they'll get excited (Yeah)\nShe was homie girl, but now that girl is my bitch (Mine)\nI like them girls that do that scammin' and that swipin'\nI just ran up all my bands, I just ran up all my bands\nI just ran up all my bands, I just ran up all my bands\nShe give me head, that bit' migraine (Migraine)\nShe give me head, that bit' migraine (Migraine)\nShe give me head, that bit' migraine (Migraine)\nShe give me head, that bit' migraine (Let's go)\n\nGot addicted to the road, got addicted to the stress\nGot addicted to the foreigns, got addicted to the racks (Racks)\nMan, these boys be doin' the most (Most)\nAnd I swear that is a fact (Fact)\nMan, this girl wanna give me brain\nYeah, we call that bit' migraine\nYeah, we call that bit' migraine\nYeah, we call that bit' migraine (Yeah, yeah)\nYeah, we call that bit' migraine (Ayy)\nYeah, we call that bit' migraine\nPack all my shit then I might migrate\nAnywhere you goin', know some niggas gon' hit\nI don't run from shit but the damn police\nAll blue hunnids to wash my face, yeah\n\nStay so fresh, so clean, think they like me (Like me)\nI wear more Supreme than a hypebeast (Than a hypebeast)\nOnly blue, no, green don't excite me (Excite me)\nI could make a ho out your wifey (Out your wifey)\nJeremy Scott up on my toes, act like Shockey (Woah)\nMade her get down on the bottom and she top me (Let's go)\nPull up extra icy, I'm not playin' hockey (Hockey, bling, blaow)\nNiggas think I'm weird and they don't really like me"}
{"text":"I said, \"Girl, why you keep callin'?\"\nI said, \"Girl, why you keep callin'?\", yeah\nShe said, \"I need a new whip,\" yeah\n\"'Cause I know that you still ballin'\"\nShe just wanna go back to the future, so I brought that girl a DeLorean\nTwenty more minutes until I got' go, so I told that girl I'm gonna slaughter it\n\nI met that girl right up at my show\nLeft her man in the crowd on the floor\nOut of town never saw her before\nTold her, \"Baby, we don't got that long\"\nListen, this not my city show\nBut I treat it like my city show\nTwenty more minutes until I'm on, twenty more minutes until I'm on (Yeah)\nTwenty more minutes until I'm on, twenty more minutes until I'm on\nTwenty more minutes until I'm on, twenty more minutes until I'm on\nYeah, I am not slow, these girls just want me 'cause I got the dough\nPass that girl right on my friend, give and go (What?)\nHe pass me her friend, so they switchin' roles (Yeah, yeah)\n\nI hit it fast (Fast), yeah, I hit it slow (Slow, slow)\nBut by the mornin', girl, I gotta go (Go, yeah)\nGotta get ready, tonight is my show\nIf you okay, you might open my show\nGot the big pointers right under my nose (Skrrt)\nThese niggas mad 'cause I got all the dough\nThese niggas mad 'cause I got all the dough (Yeah)\nChangin' my style 'cause I got every flow (What?)\nGot every girl, ain't no toppin' my hoes (Yeah)\nI understand that is your girlfriend, bro\nBut you know I gotta keep her close\nOpen your legs and I keep 'em closed\nLivin' life on the edge, on a tightrope\nI am so clean, I might start movin' soap (Yeah)\nDrive a new 'Rari, I don't need a note (Skrrt)\nDrive a Bugatti like it's a Volvo\nI got your girl and you already know (Skrrt)\nDon't really like her, we friends for the most\nCuban link tri-color, all on my choker (Yeah, skrrt)\nDon't leave the crumb, got the bread, then you toast\nIf you start touchin' my gun, got no holst'\nI put a coat on the top of my coat\nOnly twenty minutes before the show (Show)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI met that girl right up at my show\nLeft her man in the crowd on the floor\nOut of town, never saw her before\nTold her, \"Baby, we don't got that long\"\nListen, this not my city show\nBut I treat it like my city show\nTwenty more minutes until I'm on, twenty more minutes until I'm on (Yeah)\nTwenty more minutes until I'm on, twenty more minutes until I'm on\nTwenty more minutes until I'm on, twenty more minutes until I'm on\nYeah, I am not slow, these girls just want me, 'cause I got the dough\nPass that girl right on my friend, give and go (What?)\nHe pass me her friend, so they switchin' roles (Yeah, yeah)\n\nDamn, I just started it (Started), man, I just started it (Started)\nOh my God, please, do not bother me\nDon't got enough just to order me (Yeah)\nI'm on that tree like an ornament\nMoney so long like accordion (Woo)\nYou lied to me, wasn't sorry then\nOn the weekend, you was partyin'\nIt was just me, you was targetin' (Yeah)\nIt was just me, you was targetin' (Target)\nJump in the Porsche, I might target it (Skrrt)\nJump in the Lamb', I ain't parkin' it (Skrrt)\nIce is so cold, I snowboard in it (Blaow)\nGo to my show, they applaud me in\nShe call my phone with emergency (Ayy)\nShe call my phone with that urgency (Ayy)\nI said, \"Girl, why you keep callin'?\" (Woo, ayy)\nI said, \"Girl, why you keep callin'?\", yeah\nShe said, \"I need a new whip,\" yeah (Skrrt)\n\"'Cause I know that you still ballin'\" (Ball)\nShe just wanna go back to the future, so, I brought that girl a DeLorean (Yah)\nTwenty more minutes until I got' go, so, I told that girl that I'm gonna slaughter it (Yeah)\n\nI met that girl right up at my show\nLeft her man in the crowd on the floor\nOut of town, never saw her before\nTold her, \"Baby, we don't got that long\"\nListen, this not my city show\nBut I treat it like my city show\nTwenty more minutes until I'm on, twenty more minutes until I'm on (Yeah)\nTwenty more minutes until I'm on, twenty more minutes until I'm on\nTwenty more minutes until I'm on, twenty more minutes until I'm on\nYeah, I am not slow, these girls just want me, 'cause I got the dough\nPass that girl right on my friend, give and go (What?)\nHe pass me her friend, so they switchin' roles (Yeah, yeah)"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts\nUh-huh, uh-huh, yeah, yeah, yeah\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts\n\nAdmit it, I move like amoeba (Yeah)\nI float in the room like I'm reefer (Yeah)\nAlien, I\u2019m not your kind of people (Yeah, yeah)\nTelepathic, fam watch how I read ya (Skateboard)\nYou ain't got emeralds greener (Nah)\nYou ain't got rich up the sleeve (No sir)\nAnd I got a Rolls that\u2019s in the Grove\nThat I ain't drove, shit, I don't know the reason (305)\nAndele, andele, arriba (Hola)\nMe and J Balvin on G5 (Cholo)\nSuccess is a drug and man we high\nI am OTHER is a beehive (Yeah)\nI got love for you haters (Yeah)\nAin't you tired of enslavement? (Huh)\nCome with us, make some paper (Ching)\nCause you should own what you labor\n\nYeah, you never stayed in Kailua (Hawaii)\nI put Chanel on my shooter (Yeah)\nFlooded my chain and it's Gucci\nI don't want that girl, she moody (Facts)\nI'm basically saying I'm cooler (Slatt)\nGet Dior discounts from my cougar\nBack in the sixth grade, I got them bad grades\nI was in love with my tutor (Yeah)\nSee, musically, Lil Uzi trappin\u2019, man\nMost of you rappers be actors, man\nGo M.I.A when I find little Madison\nStay at the Ritz-Carlton, this not the Radisson\nJust took a blue one, \u2019bout to take the red pill\nPurple thoughts in my brain, hope it don't spill\nStay with a nerd just like Urkel, Jaleel\nFresh just like Carlton, I kill \u2019em with Will\nBig ass \"R\" on my Smiths\nBig ass \"R\" on my whips\nSlip-on shoes, so you won't trip\nSaid she kinda fine if she got some hips\nMomma said, \"Let me see the witch\nBoy you know light and dark don't mix\nMix it up, boy, bad luck\"\nSick to my stomach with them neon guts\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nHigher than Elon Musk, so high stars eat our dust\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts\nDark energy, we don't touch, our jewelry\u2019s beyond Tut\nAnd it give a nigga colorful aura like I got neon guts\nHigher than Elon Musk, so high stars eat our dust\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts\nDark energies, we don't touch, our jewelry's beyond Tut\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts\n\nYeah fam, Pharrell on Mars with my fellow star\nI'm like lightning striking in a metal rod\nI say, \"Hello God\" in the devil bars\nSo dammit, Amex, I got a yellow card\n\nC'mon, yellow card, yellow card\nDamn, P, I need a yellow car\nI am from the root like where the petal start\nI had to push like a pedal start\nStarted way after but ahead of y'all\nNew crib, got a better yard\nTwo years, I got hella cars\nSince the eighth grade I had hella broads\nHella broads, hella broads\nYellow painting with a yellow brush\nShit came from KAWS, probably marge\nSlick my hair back like I'm Chico DeBarge (Ayy)\nI got some lights on my chest (Yuh)\nDon't confuse it with a heart (Mhm)\nHeard things ain't looking too good for you\nHad to pull some strings like I play the harp\nI get these billions alone\nIt been that way from the start (Start)\nSmoking good kush, my cologne\nGot neon guts 'cause I can't see in the dark\nHigher than Elon Musk, so high stars eat our dust\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts\nDark energy, we don't touch, our jewelry's beyond Tut\nAnd it give a nigga colorful aura like I got neon guts\nHigher than Elon Musk, so high stars eat our dust\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts\nDark energies, we don't touch, our jewelry's beyond Tut\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts\n\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts\nAnd I got a colorful aura like I got neon guts"}
{"text":"Ooh, I'm startin' over\nStackin' in it, it was the top, now are you alright?\nI'm quite\u2005alright,\u2005damn, my money's\u2005right\nYeah, ayy, yeah, it's quite alright\nI\u2005wake up in the morning, then I'm gettin' back to it (Back to it)\nYeah, yeah, I'm gettin' back to it\nYou ain't show me no love, so I turned my back to you\nYeah, yeah, I can't give no racks to you (8\u2026)\nI don't really care 'cause I'm done\nOn the real, our love is not fun\nThere's no emotion on my face 'cause I'm numb\nYou see me everywhere you look, no, you can't hide or run (Yeah, Lil Uzi, yeah)\nWoah, everything I said\nMessin' with your head, messin' with your head\nI said, everything I said, messin' with your head\nMessin' with your head, woah, messin' with your head, woah\n\nI've been textin' her all night (Night), she know I was doin' wrong (Yeah)\nShe left me right on read now, I'm walkin' with my head down (I love you)\nI gotta keep my head high\nI got a whole 'nother check, not talkin' verified (Okay)\nRest in peace my dead guys\nI am no hater, yeah, we in the same whip\nThe only difference is that you do not own it (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI can just tell by the way that you drivin' it\nI pull up in that car just like it's stolen\nYeah, I came a long way, came from the hallway\nI can't stop, keep goin'\nYes, my life just feel like one long day, I just live in the moment\nWoah, ooh, comin' out just when the sun down\nMy boys, they ruthless like coupes and they really run down\nI got paper cuts from hundred dollar bills covered in bustdowns\nCountin' with my thumb now, money make me numb now\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI don't really care 'cause I'm done\nOn the real, our love is not fun (Yeah)\nThere's no emotion on my face 'cause I'm numb\nYou see me everywhere you look, no, you can't hide or run\nYeah, everything I said\nMessin' with your head, messin' with your head\nI said, everything I said messin' with your head\nMessin' with your head, woah, messin' with your head, woah\n\nI just got richer overseas, yeah\nLookin' at my watch and it's a Richard and it's green, yeah\nI'm still smokin' on that good, know I'm blowin' out that steam, yeah\nYou wouldn't even believe the numbers stuffed up in my jeans, yeah\nTell that girl to back-back, gotta stack racks (Ayy)\nNo, I can't go out sad, can't go out bad, yeah\nI told that girl I'm not no duck, this ain't Aflac, yeah\nI don't wanna get older, I'm still livin' in my last year\nI hope my life just keep goin', don't worry 'bout that\nJust tighten up and keep flowin', cowabunga\nShe gon' ride me like wakeboard (Yeah)\nI'm lickin' on her body until she don't make noise, yeah (Noise)\n\nI don't really care 'cause I'm done\nOn the real, our love is not fun\nThere's no emotion on my face 'cause I'm numb\nYou see me everywhere you look, no, you can't hide or run\nYeah, yeah, everything I said\nMessin' with your head, messin' with your head\nI said, everything I said, messin' with your head\nMessin' with your head, woah, messin' with your head, woah\nWoah, I said, messin' with your head, woah\nMessin' with your head\nYeah\nThank you\nNo, really, thank you\nYou're far too kind\nYou, and you, and you, an experience of a lifetime\nI see all of it (Yeah)\nYeah, I really appreciate you"}
{"text":"That's true (Uzi), that's right (That's right, that's right)\nShe sippin' Moet, and yeah I swear it get her wetter (Her wetter)\nMy Louboutins new, so my bottoms, they is redder (They is redder)\nNo I'm not a rat, but I'm all about my cheddar ('Bout my cheddar)\nJust talked to your homie, she said we should be together (Be together)\nGave me brain, was so insane that I made her my header (My header)\nIf she ever call my phone you know I gotta dead her (Gotta dead her)\nBut I like that girl too much, I wish I never met her (Met her) (Hello...?)\n\nNow you beggin' this a doozy, but beggers cannot be choosy\nBeen the queen for eight summers, just tell them to call me Suzy\nThis that Nicki, this that Uzi, this Hennessy got me woozy\nBroke the Internet in 5411's and some Gucci\nThe blue ribbons eatin' sushi, it's that real good coochie\nThis that wet as Chattahoochee,  fuck all y'all like a hoochie\nGivin' them bars since a teen, I ain't goin' back to juvie\nI am Nicki Yamaguchi, 'cause I skate with the ice\nI don't say, \"What's the price?\" Lookin' like it's a heist\nI been winnin' all my life, on a roll, it's a dice\nSince that \"Itty Bitty Piggy\" rep my city like committees\nIf you fucked it up with Nicki, you feel pretty fuckin' shitty, uh\nAnyway, I'm stoppin' bags like the TSA\nListen up you little bitches, it's a PSA\nI'm still shadin' all these niggas, yeah the DITA way\nYou gotta pay me flat bread, yeah the pita way (Woo)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI know you're sad and tired (Yeah)\nYou've got nothin' left to give (Yeah)\nYou'll find another life to live (Yeah)\nI know that you'll get over it (Yeah)\n\nWish I never ever ever told you things (Told you things)\nI was only, only tryna show you things (Show you things)\nIced out heart on your neck tried to froze your ring (Froze your ring)\nI had to get a me a new bitch to hold the pain (Hold the pain)\nWe was in Hawaii lookin' at the ring (Yeah)\n(You'll get over it)\nShe smilin' happy, but I'm laughin' 'cause her man's a lame\n(You'll get over it)\n(Broke boy, broke boy, broke boy, broke boy)\nDamn, that just goes to show me money don't attract a thing (You'll get over it)\n(Real shit)\nStuck to the plan even though you used to go with my mans\n(You'll get over it)\n(Yeah)\n\nI know it hurts sometimes, but you'll get over it (Yeah)\nYou'll find another life to live\nI swear that you'll get over it\nAnd I know you're sad and tired\nYou've got nothin' left to give (Yeah)\nYou'll find another life to live (Ay)\nI know that you'll get over it\nSee I tied up my Raf, you strapped up your Rick (Woo)\nDiamonds on your neck, ice all on my wrist (Wrist)\nComplement my style (Style)\nShe don't want me, I'm runnin' wild (Runnin' wild)\nYou know I respect her on that level (On that level)\nShe don't want me, then I'ma let her (I'ma let her)\nGo over there with that broke fella (Broke fella)\nWalk off my Saint Laurent, that leather (That leather)\nMy new chick, I swear that she better (Want me back never)\nWant me back, never (Ooh)\n\nThat's true, that's right (That's right, that's right)\nShe's sippin' Moet, and yeah I swear it get her wetter (We-etter)\nMy Louboutins new, so my bottoms, they is redder (Redder)\nNo I'm not a rat, but I'm all about my cheddar (Cheddar)\nJust talked to your homie, she said we should be together (Together)\nGave me brain, was so insane that I made her my header (Header)\nIf she ever call my phone you know I gotta dead her (Dead her)\nBut I like that girl too much, I wish I never met her (Met her)\n\nI know it hurts sometimes, but you'll get over it (Woah, what what)\nYou'll find another life to live (You'll find)\nI know that you'll get over it (You'll get over it)\nI know it hurts sometimes, but you'll get over it (No, no)\nYou'll find another life to live (You will)\nI know that you'll get over it (Oh, oh, oh-oh-oh)\n(You'll get over it)\n(I know that you'll get over it)\nI know it's over\nCheck out my cold shoulder  (Nothin' left to give)\nI know it's over\nCry on that hoe shoulder (You'll get over it)\nMm-mm-mm-mm\nMm-mm-mm-mm\n\nWe-e used to be-e, kissin' in the tree-e\n'Member it was just you and me-e kissin' in the tree-e (You'll get over it)\n'Member it was you was just you and me-e k-i-s-s-i-n-g\nK-i-s-s-i-n-g-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e, ah (You'll get over it)\n(You'll get over it)"}
{"text":"Yo, sing this shit, are y'all fuckin' dumb?\nEternal Atake\nGotta shoot two at her (Yeah)\nGotta shoot\u2005two\u2005at her (Woah)\nBlue\u2005cheddar (Yeah)\n\nThat girl, she got with\u2005my clone (One, two, three)\nI told that lil' girl that she gotta just do better (Woah)\n\nAre you serious?\nI swear my money get serious\nOkay, all my checks, I just be clearin' it\nShe suck my dick 'til she get delirious (Wow)\nOkay, jump on the jet, so I'm Clearin' it (Woo)\nOkay, 'Port, but I'm not talking New' (Let's go)\nOkay, smoke that boy just like a cigarette\nIf that boy try to make a false move, uh (Damn)\n\nI'm on some whole other shit\nI got a whole 'nother rich, I'm on a new level\nI was fucking on your bitch\nShe was ridin' on my dick, she ain't need two pedals\nI swear these niggas, they bitches\nI swear they all gonna snitch when my niggas go shoot at 'em\nNiggas, they mad about this\nNiggas, they mad about that, but it's only if you let 'em\nShe save my name in her phone\nOnly thing she save me under is probably that \"U\" letter (Hello?)\nNo, I don't got provolone\nOnly thing in my pocket is probably, um, some blue cheddar\nShe tried to leave me alone\nThen she got right with my clone, man, I hope that she do better\nI know it's blue cheese on me\nBut when I got fifties on me, I call that shit loose cheddar (Hah)\nJeremy Scotts all on my feet\nI had a cougar with me, so I call that girl Coretta (Coretta)\nI am the richest nigga in my city\nI can make it rain like no matter what's the weather (Facts)\nI know that girl, she got swag\nBut when it come to puttin' it together, she could do better\nI sent that girl a DM\nShe ain't answer me, so you know that I gotta shoot two at her (Yeah)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nGotta shoot two at her (Yeah)\nAyy, gotta shoot two at her (And you are Lil Uzi? Vert, let's go)\nAyy, stay with the blue cheddar (Woah)\nThat girl, she got with my clone (One, two, three, let's go)\nI told that lil' girl that she gotta just do better\n\nAre you serious?\nI swear my money get serious\nOkay, all my checks, I just be clearin' it\nShe suck my dick 'til she get delirious\nOkay, jump on the jet so I'm Clearin' it\nOkay, 'Port, but I'm not talking New' (Woo)\nOkay, smoke that boy just like a cigarette\nIf that boy try to make a false move (Lil Uzi)\n\nThey try to cut me down when they say I'm too low, woah, uh (Turn me up)\nI said, \"Turn me up,\" I cannot hear my flow, woah, woah\nI ain't never been no fool\nDo what I want, I'ma bend your rules (Woah)\nI'ma take the dub, I'ma win\nI ain't ever been no type that lose, yeah\nBorn like this, I ain't did no study\nEverything I got, man, I got it in a hurry\nIf I love you, better say that you love me\nAnd if I trust you, better say that you trust me\nTalk 'bout the bag, the mula, the guap\nI'm at the bank, only time that I'm runnin'\nI said I'm on the road, no, I cannot stop\nI'm runnin' through obstacles, I'm in a hurry\nWoah, stop that\nTold a fuck nigga just drop that (Yeah)\nIf you shoot first, we gon' pop back\nMargiela on me, lil' nigga, that's not that\nWhat you got on? Prada sweatsuit made of nylon\nSee my righteous girl, yeah, she say, \"Right on\"\nWhen I hit that girl right with the light on\nWhen I hit that girl, oh\nGotta shoot two at her\nAyy, gotta shoot two at her (Woah)\nAyy, stay with the blue cheddar (Woah)\nThat girl, she got with my clone (One, two, three, yeah, yeah)\nI told that lil' girl that she gotta just do better\n\nAre you serious?\nI swear my money get serious\nOkay, all my checks, I just be clearin' it\nShe suck my dick 'til she get delirious (Woah)\nOkay, jump on the jet so I'm Clearin' it\nOkay, 'Port, but I'm not talking New' (Mhm)\nOkay, smoke that boy just like a cigarette\nIf that boy try to make a false move (Woah)\n\nLil Uzi Vert, doot-dooda-loot-doo, doot-doo\nThank you, Little Uzi Vert leaves\nYou 'posed to be standin' still right now\nReady, set, go"}
{"text":"We be throwin' money in a spiral\nEvery time your girl hear my song, yeah, turn her right into my ho\nShe shake her ass (I'm working on dying), do the eye roll\nGot a skinny thong like a tightrope\nI be blowin' up like some pyro\nCoupe 150, call it Kyro\n\nIf she left with me, she the right ho\nMan, she ridin' me like a BMX\nMan, she said the D is for Dyno\nI got two horns like a rhino\nIt's no way you could buy ho\nBut I bought a mansion with a slide door\nYes, I opened up the slide door\nSo you can hear her hit the high note\n\nI like the way you (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nMoney keep comin' in, I can't lose\nMoney keep comin' in, I can't lose\nForeign girls and they 10s, I can't choose\nForeign car got V10, I can't cruise\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI got different color on my diamonds, I can't even see the time\nI don't wanna see her face, I'ma go and get behind\nDrop the top on the Wraith, I'ma make it lose its mind\nI just made 100K, it was quicker than a Vine\nI was swingin' from a vine, tryna pull me down but I climb\nI'ma get it, keep tryin', there's no reason for the cryin'\nWe the ones that be slidin', they the ones that be dyin'\nKnow my boys, they be ridin' and my doors suicide\n\nSide note, you will never reach my goals (At all)\nI be walkin' with a slime nose\nAnd I'm also walkin' with my side ho\nOnly time I be walkin' when I'm on the moon, so I feel like Michael\nI was talkin' to my little slime, that's a lil' lizard, call her Geico\nIn reality, I'm 5'4\"\nStand on my money, now I'm 6'6\"\nHit her once, now she dismissed\nCan't fuck her sister, make her lick dick\nForty-orty make my hip thick\nWhen I see an opp, make the clip hit\nAimin' at his top, boy you need a mop\nMan, I'm goin' out with a vengeance\nMy pants, Raf Simons\nMy shoes, Rick-Rick\nYour girl dipped my tartar sauce so she ate my dick like a fish stick\nHit it raw, yes, I am a dog, I don't do this shit for no image\nAll my diamonds, they be hittin' hard\nTry to play me boy, that's a scrimmage\nI got different color on my diamonds, I can't even see the time\nI don't wanna see her face, I'ma go and get behind\nDrop the top on the Wraith, I'ma make it lose its mind\nI just made 100K, it was quicker than a Vine\nI was swingin' from a vine, tryna pull me down but I climb\nI'ma get it, keep tryin', there's no reason for the cryin'\nWe the ones that be slidin', they the ones that be dyin'\nKnow my boys, they be riding and my doors suicide\n\nLive it up, you can just go any day now\nMykko Montana, this beat is from K Camp\nGot frost on my diamonds, I'm gettin' the cake now\nNow stay on your stomach, lil' bitch, when you lay down\nLive it up, 'cause you can go any day now\nMykko Montana, this beat is from K Camp\nFrost on my diamonds 'cause I got the cake now\nWhen you on your stomach, lil' bitch, better lay down\nI'm so up and I can't turn it down\nThey counted me out, my whole life turned around\nClean up my diamonds, you know I got rinse it\nKnow my boys comin', you know they mean business\nThat advance that you waitin' for, already spent it\nWhen I\u2019m on the beat man, you know I'm gon' kill it\nWe be throwin' money in a spiral\nEvery time your girl hear my song, yeah, turn her right into my ho\nShe shake her ass, do the eye roll\nGot a skinny thong like a tightrope\nI be blowin' up like some pyro\nCoupe 150, call it Kyro\n\nI got different color on my diamonds, I can't even see the time\nI don't wanna see her face, I'ma go and get behind\nDrop the top on the Wraith, I'ma make it lose its mind\nI just made 100K, it was quicker than a Vine\nI was swingin' from a vine, tryna pull me down but I climb\nI'ma get it, keep tryin', there's no reason for the cryin'\nWe the ones that be slidin', they the ones that be dyin'\nKnow my boys, they be riding and my doors suicide\n\nI like the way you (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)\nYou do it (Ayy)"}
{"text":"(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nMy money, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nUh, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI ain't gon' lie\nThis song right here slick hatin' (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nSo\n\nYeah, I took what yours (Yeah)\nSo I made her mine\nYeah, I took what yours (Yeah)\nSo I made her mine (Mine)\nJump in the Porsche (Skrrt)\nRide with the 9 (Yeah)\nI changed your life\nNow you gon' ride (Yeah)\nOoh, sing it (Sing it)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah (What?)\nOoh, sing it (Yeah)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah\nOoh, sing it (Sing it)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah (What?)\nOoh, sing it (Yeah)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nYeah\nShe had a nigga that was on the music scene (What? Thought he was me?)\nHad a nigga thought he was going straight to the league (Yeah, straight to the D)\nYeah, fuck with my baby, I swear that that nigga gon' bleed (Du-du-du-du-du-du-du-du-du)\nYeah, she left that boy and ride for me (Yeah)\nStay on my Ps and my Qs, yeah (What?)\nStay on my Qs and my Ps (Yeah)\n'Cause that could happen to me, yeah\nBring that girl to the big league, yeah\nDiamonds, that's all on my teeth, yeah\nDiamonds, that's all on my teeth, yeah (What?)\nPut my girl in that new Chanel\nAnd I got her a new weave (Yeah)\nSaid put my girl in that new Chanel\nAnd I got her a new weave (Yeah)\nLike, haha, oh, well, now your girl with me\nLike, Austin was holding her up, yeah (Damn)\nUm, boy, please\nLike bye-bye, Austin, hello to Lil Uzi\n\nYeah, I took what yours (Yeah)\nSo I made her mine\nYeah, I took what yours (Yeah)\nSo I made her mine (Mine)\nJump in the Porsche (Skrrt)\nRide with the 9 (Yeah)\nI changed your life\nNow you gon' ride (Yeah)\nOoh, sing it (Sing it)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah (What?)\nOoh, sing it (Yeah)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah\nOoh, sing it (Sing it)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah (What?)\nOoh, sing it (Yeah)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Bye-bye, yeah)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\n(Yeah)\nWatch out for my doors (Wait, watch out, woo, woo)\nLambo', that bitch roar (Skrrt, roar)\nTell my girl that the world could be yours (Yeah)\nYeah, number-one rule, don't listen to whores (Shh-shh, listen to me, baby)\nYeah, know you've never lived this life before (Woo, jeez)\nYeah, more money than your last man, of course (Duh, jeez)\nYeah, drivin' in that foreign (Skrrt)\nYeah, where you thought you was goin' in that Ford (Where?)\nI took what's yours, yeah (Yeah)\nI made her mine (What?)\nI made her mine, yeah (Yeah)\nI took what's yours (I took her)\nI made her mine, yeah (Yeah)\nI took what's yours (Yeah)\nI made her mine, yeah\nI took what's yours\n\nYeah, I took what yours (Yeah)\nSo I made her mine\nYeah, I took what yours (My money, yeah, yeah)\nSo I made her mine (Mine)\nJump in the Porsche (Skrrt)\nRide with the 9 (Yeah)\nI changed your life\nNow you gon' ride (Yeah)\nOoh, sing it (Sing it)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah (What? My money, yeah)\nOoh, sing it (Yeah)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah\nOoh, sing it (Sing it)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah (What? My money, yeah)\nOoh, sing it (Yeah)\nHe ain't got no money, yeah\nStay on my Ps and my Qs, yeah\nStay on my Qs and my Ps\nStay on my Ps and my Qs, yeah\nStay on my Qs and my Ps"}
{"text":"(Cannon)\n\nKnow I walk with the racks on me\nBad bitch want back back and you know she throw that ass on me\nI don't want that girl 'cause she want me 'cause the cash on me\nYeah, you know she cappin', homie\nDreadlock, that cap on me\n\nBack then, they napped on me\nNow they all just act homie\nNow I'm hot, they all on me\nPull out the Snapchats on me\nI ain't got no Snapchat, homie\nI think it's too personal\nThat's what I got Twitter for\nInstagram, I'll bag your ho\nBack then, they napped on me (What?)\nNow they all just act homie (Chee)\nNow I'm hot, they all on me (What?)\nPull out the Snapchats on me (Ayy)\nI ain't got no Snapchat, homie (No)\nI think it's too personal (What?)\nThat's what I got Twitter for (Yeah)\nInstagram, I'll bag your ho (Yeah)\nBack then, they napped on me (What?)\nNow they all just act homie (Chee)\nNow I'm hot, they all on me (What?)\nPull out the Snapchats on me (Ayy)\nI ain't got no Snapchat, homie (No)\nI think it's too personal (What?)\nThat's what I got Twitter for (Yeah)\nInstagram, I'll bag your ho (Yeah)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nLike, flex on you haters (Huh?), hi haters (Yeah)\nThis is my world so it's all in my favor (Yeah)\nI like all girls, yeah, all type of flavors\nBut that don't matter 'cause I just got my baby, psyche\nPull up right there in Mercedes (Skrrt)\nWater, water like the Navy (Uh)\nFuck that girl 'til the sun down\nNumber one like I'm McGrady (That way)\n\nBoy, you said that you made me (Yeah)\nGo ahead, make another one\nDo what I want 'cause I'm trustin' none (Huh)\nI'ma love her 'til the love is done\nTook your girl, she ain't try to run\nHit from the back so her legs get numb (Yeah)\nHit from the back so long (Yeah) that my own legs startin' to get numb\n\nSuckin' me up, give me brain, now she dumb\nTell her it's repercussions (What?)\nPlay her just like a drum\nMake in a night what you make in a month\n\nBack then, they napped on me (Huh? What?)\nNow they all just act homie (Chee)\nNow I'm hot, they all on me (What?)\nPull out the Snapchats on me (Ayy)\nI ain't got no Snapchat, homie (No)\nI think it's too personal (What?)\nThat's what I got Twitter for (Yeah)\nInstagram, I'll bag your ho (Yeah)\nBack then, they napped on me (What?)\nNow they all just act homie (Chee)\nNow I'm hot, they all on me (What?)\nPull out the Snapchats on me (Ayy)\nI ain't got no Snapchat, homie (No)\nI think it's too personal (What?)\nThat's what I got Twitter for (Yeah)\nInstagram, I'll bag your ho (Yeah)\nBoy, you said that you made me (Huh?)\nGo ahead, make another one (Yeah)\nDo what I want 'cause I'm trustin' none\nI'ma love her 'til the love is done (Yeah)\nTook your girl, she ain't try to run\nHit from the back so her legs get numb\nHit from the back so long that my own legs startin' to get numb (Skrrt)\n\nKnow I walk with the racks on me (Yeah)\nBad bitch want back back and you know she throw that ass on me (Yeah, yeah)\nI don't want that girl 'cause she want me 'cause the cash on me (Huh?)\nYeah, you know she cappin' homie (What?)\nDreadlock, that cap on me (Yeah)\n\nBack then they napped on me (What?)\nNow they all just act homie (Chee)\nNow I'm hot, they all on me (What?)\nPull out the Snapchats on me (Ayy)\nI ain't got no Snapchat, homie (No)\nI think it's too personal (What?)\nThat's what I got Twitter for (Yeah)\nInstagram, I'll bag your ho (Yeah)\nBack then they napped on me (What?)\nNow they all just act homie (Chee)\nNow I'm hot, they all on me (What?)\nPull out the Snapchats on me (Ayy)\nI ain't got no Snapchat, homie (No)\nI think it's too personal (What?)\nThat's what I got Twitter for (Yeah)\nInstagram, I'll bag your ho (Yeah)\nBack then they napped on me (What?)\nNow they all just act homie (Chee)\nNow I'm hot, they all on me (What?)\nPull out the Snapchats on me (Ayy)\nI ain't got no Snapchat, homie (No)\nI think it's too personal (What?)\nThat's what I got Twitter for (Yeah)\nInstagram, I'll bag your ho (Yeah)\nI ain't gon' lie\nThe baddest girls do be on Snapchat\nI'm finna make one"}
{"text":"(Yo, Pi'erre, yo, Pi'erre)\nIn my triple cup, that's two times two\nMan, this shit darker than a wonton soup, ayy\nYeah, my eyes red, but I'm no Damu\nIf you don't run it up, that's all on you\n\nYou know I'm ballin', usual like Kobe (24)\nOoh, worried 'bout a hater that don't know me\nHe say that he tough, then that boy gotta show me\nPull up Bentley truck, extra poles, and we four deep (Bah)\nSay my name three times like I'm Tony (Tony, Toni, Ton\u00e9)\nDiamond VVS, I put baguettes all on my Rollie\nI ain't never believe nothing that you told me\nThese niggas keep sneak dissing, they turned me to my old me\nBefore I had these mils, I was oh-so lonely\nRunnin' 'round in Philadelphia only with my 40\nI ain't never been a phony (No way)\nYou be gettin' bands? Hardly, yeah\nI just fucked your bitch, sorry, oh (I'm sorry)\nMan, I put that on my shawty, ooh\nFight me, we're not scared, sorry (I'm sorry)\nNo, I'm not here for no games, Atari (No way)\nDiamonds, they hittin' like water, ooh, starbeam, yeah\nRockstar life be callin' (Callin', yeah)\nDon't want that girl, she stallin', she stallin' (Oh, oh)\nBig ol' foreign whip, ooh, I can't park it (Ooh, no way)\nI'm from outer space, ooh, in a starship (Ooh)\nThick ol' foreign bitch, ooh, that's my target (Ooh)\nTen bands, what you say? Ooh (Ooh)\nTen bands for my Chanel carpet (Alright)\nRockstar life like watch this (Okay)\nYoung nigga slick like margarine (Huh?)\nLost your bitch in Starlet's (Jeez)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\n(Bang, bang)\nAP, Muller, my Rollie (Woo)\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie (That's two times two)\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\n\nJust pulled up with me (Huh?)\nDoin' one-sixty (Skrrt)\nThe bitch staring at me\nGot real big titties (Sos', baby)\nWhat's in my jeans? (Huh?)\nThem real big fifties\nFlight after flight (Beep)\nHittin' real big cities\nFrom the sandbox, yeah, my brothers is with me (Mhm)\nIf they give me a bond, I'm comin' to get me (Let's get it)\nAnd in the club (Let's get it)\nWe snuck the semi (Bang)\nCup, dawg, it ain't R\u00e9my\nI can feel the envy\nIn my triple cup, that's two times two\nMan, this shit darker than a wonton soup, ayy\nYeah, my eyes red, but I'm no Damu\nIf you don't run it up, that's all on you\nDisrespect the gang, and we stall on you, hey\nSend them Trackhawk shots, don't get called on you (Bang, bang)\nBring my belt, better have that coat on you, ayy (Gang, gang)\nMarry that guap, you know I do\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\n(Bang, bang)\nAP, Muller, my Rollie (Woo)\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\nAP, Muller, my Rollie (That's two times two)\nAP, Muller, my Rollie\n\nAh, ah\nAh, ah\nAh, ah\nOoh\nYoom"}
{"text":"Now, I don't think this is the drugs talking, but I really think this shit gon' work\nWhat you think?\nUm, I don't know, it might\nMan, I'm tired as fuck\nBut anyways, um, did you see that video on Instagram?\nMan, what video?\nIt had me dying, but yeah\nDon't think I didn't see your Chanel shoes\nMan, what is you talkin' about?\nHey, hey I think it'll work\nDid you fall asleep? Uzi\nOf course it's gon' work\nAnd what a lovely morning\nUzi, wake your ass up\n\nAyy, I told that bitch I count my cake\nBitch, get out my face\n.45 on my waist\nBoy, get out my way\n(DP on the beat)\nGoyard on my waist (Waist)\nBoy, you ain't got taste\nNow I'm gettin' cake (Cake)\nNow your bitch gon' let me\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nLike, oh goddamn, that's the bitch that I want\nOh goddamn, diamonds all on my fronts\nLike 7 AM, I was fucking your love\n11 AM, you took that bitch right to brunch\nLike, oh goddamn, that's the bitch that I want\nOh goddamn, diamonds all on my fronts\nLike 7 AM, I was fucking your love (Lil Uzi)\n11 AM, you took that bitch right to brunch (Yeah)\n\nLike oh goddamn, that's the bitch that I want (Yeah)\nOh goddamn, diamonds all on my fronts\nLike 7 AM, I was fucking your love\n11 AM, you took that bitch right to brunch\nLike I lost a lot of friends, but who give a fuck?\nI got the money, now that's all that I want (All that I want)\nShe ate me for lunch (Yeah), feel like 2Pac, I'm a thug (Oh yeah)\nKnow some Crips and Bloods\nXanny boy on drugs (Oh yeah)\nGot a lot of people banking on me (Yeah)\nTell me why these niggas always hating on me (Oh yeah)\nComing home, they be waiting on me\nLike, jump off my dick, all that faking homie (Yeah)\nLike, oh goddamn, that's the bitch that I want\nOh goddamn, diamonds all on my fronts\nLike 7 AM, I was fucking your love\n11 AM, you took that bitch right to brunch (Oh yeah)\nLike, oh goddamn, that's the bitch that I want (Oh yeah)\nOh goddamn, diamonds all on my fronts (Oh yeah)\nLike 7 AM, I was fucking your love (Oh yeah)\n11 AM, you took that bitch right to brunch (Woo, Lil Uzi)\nLike, fuck nigga, like, can you leave me 'lone? (Yeah)\nMade a million by myself, yeah, that be my song (Yeah)\nLike, yeah, I rock designer when I'm in my zone (Yeah)\nYeah, I fucked your mama, I'm on my VLONE (Ayy)\nSaid I'm higher than a drone (Drone), boy, you is my clone (Skrt)\nYour mama a crackhead, I sold that bitch some stones (Damn)\nNow these bitches want me, I feel like I'm Mike Jones (Jones)\nCatch me lean spilling while I'm lane switching\nDrop the top, cocaine ceiling (Uh)\nBackwood, propane pilling\nSay my name in it, now your chain missing (Who, Lil Uzi)\nHad a lot of friends and a lot of homies\nNow I'm higher, now they all salty\nTell them niggas get the fuck up off me\nNow I'm higher, now they all salty\n\nLike, oh goddamn, that's the bitch that I want\nOh goddamn, diamonds all on my fronts\nLike 7 AM, I was fucking your love\n11 AM, you took that bitch right to brunch\nLike, oh goddamn, that's the bitch that I want\nOh goddamn, diamonds all on my fronts\nLike 7 AM, I was fucking your love\n11 AM, you took that bitch right to brunch, ayy"}
{"text":"(Sauce it up, ayy, sauce it up, ayy)\n(Sauce it up, ayy, goin' numb)\nI'm\n(Where you from? Ayy, throw it up, ayy)\nI'm one of the greatest to ever do it\n(Goin' dumb, hey, goin' nuts, hey)\n(Sauce it up, hey, sauce it up, hey)\nLil Uzi Vert\n(Throw it up, hey, where you from? Hey)\n(Throw it up, hey, where you from? Hey)\n(Going dumb, hey, going nuts)\n\nOoh, sauce it up (Sauce it up)\nOoh, do too much (Do too much)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nWhere you from? (Where you from?)\nThrow it up (Throw that shit up)\nGoin' nuts (Yeah), goin' dumb\nOoh, sauce it up (Sauce it up)\nOoh, do too much (Do too much)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nWhere you from? (Where you from?)\nThrow it up (Throw that shit up)\nGoin' nuts (Yeah)\nGoin' dumb (Slatt, slatt)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nEvery day I'm ballin', so you know I'm scorin' (Ball)\nI feel so important, my pockets enormous (Enormous)\nThese niggas keep hatin', this is their last warning\nMet that girl last night, ooh, fucked her through the morning\nI don't know no girl, I'm sorry (Ayy), hang up, girl, don't call me (Call)\nNo, no, you will not have me caught up all up on Maury (Hello)\nCash shower (Cash shower), make it rain, no game, Atari\nRide me like a Harley (Ayy), only boy in the party\nI was on the phone, yeah, with Playboi Carti (Woah)\nComme des Gar\u00e7ons (What?), hearts all on my cardi' (Swag)\nI was in a Lamb', Carti, he was in a 'Rari (What? Skrrt)\nI'ma keep on flexin', you don't like me then I'm sorry (Sorry)\n\nOoh, sauce it up (Sauce it up)\nOoh, do too much (Do too much)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nWhere you from? (Where you from?)\nThrow it up (Throw that shit up)\nGoin' nuts (Yeah)\nGoin' dumb\nOoh, sauce it up (Sauce it up)\nOoh, do too much (Do too much)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nWhere you from? (Where you from?)\nThrow it up (Throw that shit up)\nGoin' nuts (Yeah)\nGoin' dumb (Slatt, slatt)\nOkay, big guap chasin', big knot havin'\nMy money stackin', this shit extravagant (Woah)\nThis for all my niggas, the ones that be traffickin' (Woah)\nAll my diamonds African, I might go and matte the Benz (Hey)\nI already had that bitch (Skrrt)\nWent and got a badder bitch (Ayy)\nPersian rug, Aladdin shit\nNice foreign ho like a Latin bitch\nI could serve you, ayy\nLet me say it one time, ayy\nTurn around, baby girl, let me serve you (Woah)\nYachty say that you wet like Squirtle (Yeah)\nYeah, walk around pigeon-toed, got the bird flu (Brrr)\nAnd you think you in love, don't wan' hurt you (Woah)\nMan, I think that I'm done, gotta swerve you (Swerve)\n\nOoh, sauce it up (Sauce it up)\nOoh, do too much (Do too much)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nWhere you from? (Where you from?)\nThrow it up (Throw that shit up)\nGoin' nuts (Yeah)\nGoin' dumb (Oh)\nOoh, sauce it up (Sauce it up)\nOoh, do too much (Do too much)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nAin't enough (Ain't enough)\nWhere you from? (Where you from?)\nThrow it up (Throw that shit up)\nGoin' nuts (Yeah)\nGoin' dumb (Slatt, slatt)\nI'm so awesome\nI'm so awesome\nThese niggas so bad, it's exhaustin'\nI swear I'm a stunner like Steve Austin\nI swear I'm a stunner like Steve Austin\nOoh, sauce it up\nOoh, do too much\nOoh, where you from?\nOoh, throw it up\nOoh, going nuts\nOoh, going dumb (Dumb, dumb)\nLil Uzi Vert"}
{"text":"I want it that way\nI want it that way\nI want it that way\nI want it\u2005that\u2005way\n\nBut I don't\u2005wanna go out bad, wanna go\u2005out sad, wanna go out that way (No)\nI'm with the winnin' team, they make sure I'm not in last place (Let's go)\nIf I wake up, don't make no money, that's a sad day (Woah)\nTwenty-five hundred on my shirt what the tag say (Let's go)\n\nI want it that way\nI want it that way\nI want it that way, woah\nI want it that way\n\nWoah, she from Atlanta, she went to Cascade, ayy (Let's get it)\nShe ride the D like she's tryna drag race (Woah)\nDon't slow me right down, I like it fast-paced, ayy\nThat is enough about that girl, everyone know it is my world\nIf he dropped an album, thought it was trash day (Yeah, woah)\nI'm on my own, not talkin' masturbate, yeah (Ew)\nShe gave me dome 'til I graduate, woah\nI'ma grab a Bentley, Mean might go and grab a Wraith, yeah\nI had to snap back into reality and go grab a fitted (Fitted)\nMy jeans, yeah, they fitted (Woo)\nBut Lil Uzi, he is so far from the timid (Let's go)\nThe reason I'm rich\n'Cause I had to go and just fix my percentage (Let's go)\nYou know that I'm winnin'\nMy white girl got black card and it got no limit (Woo)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI don't wanna go out bad, don't wanna go out sad, not that way (Yeah)\nI'm with the winnin' team, they make sure I'm not in last place (Yes)\nIf I wake up, don't make no money, that's a sad day (Woah)\nTwenty-five hundred for my shirt what the tag say (Yeah)\n\nAnd I want it that way\nI want it that way\nI want it that way, woah\nI want it that way\n\nWhen I'm in DC, make the hoes go-go (Go)\nYes, I'm slimy like a snail, but I'm no slowpoke (Slow)\nOnly reason I didn't kick her out 'cause she gon' deepthroat (Yeah)\nHit it no protection, injection, yeah, this shit is lethal (Go)\nThey laugh at me because I'm emo (Yeah)\nI killed my girlfriend, that's why I'm single (Fuck her)\nCan't call 911 'cause I'm in Reno (Yeah)\nGave away my thumbs and I stood three toes (Let's go, let's go)\nDiamonds hittin', bling, bling (Let's go)\nMake the chopper sing, sing (Let's go, let's go, let's go)\nHe a killer (What?), same thing (Same thing)\nEyes low, Simmons, Ming (Yeah)\nI don't wanna go out bad, don't wanna go out sad, not that way\nI'm with the winnin' team, they make sure I'm not in last place (Yes)\nIf I wake up, don't make no money, that's a sad day (Why? Woah)\nTwenty-five hundred for my shirt what the tag say (Yeah)\n\nAnd I want it that way\nI want it that way\nI want it that way, woah\nI want it that way\n\nI want it that way\nI want it that way\nI want it that way\nI want it that way"}
{"text":"Zaytoven\n\nWhy that boy just wanna play with me? (Why?)\nLike I don't, um, keep that K on me (Yeah)\nYou was a worm, keep that bait on me (Huh)\nKillin' my comp', oh-so fatally (What? Zaytoven)\nYeah, woohoo, ballin' like I'm Bo Jack (Damn)\nSometimes I think too much, wish that I'd think less\nWhen you lie to me, that is not English (I don't understand)\nI must admit that you was the best (Yeah, Zaytoven)\nFuck the rest (Fuck 'em)\nI don't see nobody, yeah, fuck the rest (Fuck 'em)\nI can't stop, no, no, I don't fuck with rest (No), yeah\nOn the real, wish I thought of you less (Yeah, Zaytoven)\nOn the real, wish I fucked you less (What? Yeah)\nThought you was real 'cause the things you said (Yeah)\nThought you was real 'cause you ain't invade my checks (Yeah)\nThought you was my future but you're my ex\n\nNowadays, got a side chick on side chick (Side, yeah)\nThey keep hackin' my iPhone (Yeah), 'bout to get a Sidekick\nI don't like to stand up, told that girl to ride it (What?)\nMurakami, buy it, Goyard, buy it\nPhillip Lim, buy it, Rick Owens, buy it (Yeah)\nOff-White, buy it (Yeah), even though I don't got to buy it (Yeah)\nVlone tatted on me, if you thought I was lyin' (Vlone thug)\nGirl you need a back, back, ooh, you need some Trident (Yeah)\nNowadays, got a side chick on side chick (Side, yeah)\nThey keep hackin' my iPhone (Yeah), 'bout to get a sidekick\nI don't like to stand up, told that girl to ride it (What?)\nMurakami, buy it, Goyard, buy it\nPhillip Lim, buy it, Rick Owens, buy it\nOff-White, buy it (Yeah), even though I don't got to buy it\nVlone tatted on me, if you thought I was lyin' (Vlone thug)\nGirl you need a back, back, ooh, you need some Trident (Yeah)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nAnd if it is a problem, my niggas ridin' (What?)\nKnow my niggas slidin' (Yeah), turn it to a riot (Du-du-du)\nI fucked her in a SLS, you fucked her in a Hyatt (What?)\nAin't nothin' wrong with that (Yeah), I'm just a little more high-end (Yeah)\n\nNowadays, got a side chick on side chick (Side, yeah)\nThey keep hackin' my iPhone (Yeah), 'bout to get a Sidekick\nI don't like to stand up, told that girl to ride it (What?)\nMurakami, buy it, Goyard, buy it\nPhillip Lim, buy it, Rick Owens, buy it (Yeah)\nOff-White, buy it (Yeah), even though I don't got to buy it (Yeah)\nVlone tatted on me, if you thought I was lyin' (Vlone thug)\nGirl you need a back, back, ooh, you need some Trident (Yeah)\n\nHow you do it like that, Uzi? (How?)\nHow you do it like that, Uzi? (How?)\nHow you do it like that, Uzi? (What?)\nHow you do it like that, Uzi? (How?)\nHow you do it like that, Uzi? (How you do it?)\nHow you do it like that, Uzi? (Lil Uzi)\nHow you do it like that, Uzi?\nHow you do it like that, Uzi?"}
{"text":"(Welcome to Eternal Atake, the dark world)\n(\u4f60\u51c6\u5907\u597d\u4e86\u5417?)\n\nI turned to an addict, I bought me a\u2005Patek\nI\u2005bought her a\u2005baby one\nYeah, I bought me a\u2005Maybach, it came with two doors\nYeah, that's the Mercedes one\u205f(For\u205fsure)\nI\u205fstay with the\u205fbaddest, I'm countin'\u205fthe cabbage\nWhile makin' my lady cum (Yeah)\nI bought a G-Wagen, that shit was the BRABUS\nThat's why I be racin' 'em (BRABUS)\nYeah, we bought the four-door, had to get ready for war\nYeah, we bought the four-door, had to get ready for war (Go get it)\nYeah, we bought the four-door, had to get ready for war (Go get it)\nYeah, we bought the four-door, had to get ready for war\n\nI got static in my city, who fuckin' with me?\nPull up with this 30 and this chopper hold a fifty\nMan, I heard that nigga Mickey, that's too risky\nMan, we spray his car, spray his window, icky, icky\nShe keep suckin' on my dick, tryna get a hickey, hickey\nGirl, I swear that pussy too wet, sticky, sticky\nI kicked her right out of the front door, I'm picky, picky\nYeah, and every time she go to call my phone, I'm busy, busy (Yeah, yeah, hello, hello? Hello?)\nI heard it's some niggas that's on my head (Brr)\nI heard it's some niggas that want my bread\nOh my God\nY'all niggas better chill before y'all all be dead (Oh my God, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWhole lot of, whole lot of hoes, whole lot of, whole lot of meds\nYeah, whole lot of, whole lot of clothes, niggas be stealin' my swag (Hold up)\nWhole lot of, whole lot of emeralds, please tuck your baguettes\nYeah, whole lot of, whole lot of red rubies on my neck\nUzi, it came with a TEC\nThe brick, that came with a vet\nI can teach you how to flex (Yes)\nThe Draco, it came with a vest\nThe condo, it came with a pit (Yeah)\nMy new bitch, she came with some neck (Yeah)\nMan, these boys ain't believe me\nUntil I pulled up and my neck was on squeegee (Woah)\nMan, these boys ain't believe me\nThey thought I believed in the devil like ouija\nMan, these boys ain't believe me\nA real rockstar, Chrome Heart on my beanie (Yeah)\nI swear these boys cannot see me\nThat's why I be livin' my life like I'm Stevie\nWake up, Versace my bitch\nI got on that Tisci, I eat fettuccine\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI turned to an addict, I bought me a Patek\nI bought her a baby one\nYeah, I brought me a Maybach, it came with two doors\nYeah, that's the Mercedes one (Let's go)\nI stay with the baddest, I'm countin' the cabbage\nWhile makin' my lady cum (Stay with the baddest)\nI bought a G-Wagen, that shit was the BRABUS\nThat's why I be racin' 'em (I bought a G-Wagen)\nYeah, we bought the four-door, had to get ready for war (Yeah)\nI ain't fuck a bitch in so long, I'd do it in a Honda Accord (Nah, for real)\nI had to count my money on the ironing board\nI just took that bitch shoppin', fucked behind the stores\n\nI had to get all my niggas off bond, I had to get 'em off holding (Yeah)\nI had to take 12 right on the mile, drive it like my van was stolen (Skrrt, skrrt)\nIt sing like my birthday, brand new\n'Cause I'm only known just to floor it (Brand new)\nYeah, I just know they be watchin' it\nYeah, I just, yeah, I just know they be watchin' it\nAll these hoes love me\nI am such a slimy guy, nigga, do not trust me\nBaby, I'ma bust you way before you bust me\nYou shouldn't have trusted me, girl, you got off lucky (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nIf it's beef, don't partake\nNo, I do not eat steak (Yeah)\nAll I eat is fish plates\nMy diamonds so cold, in the freezer, my wrist be\nSomewhere in the hills, prolly where my bitch stay\nSwitchin' my crib and you know I'm gon' switch states (Yeah)\nI made a million, yeah, off a mixtape\nI made a million, yeah, off a mixtape\nI turned to an addict, I bought me a Patek\nI bought her a baby one\nYeah, I brought me a Maybach, it came with two doors\nYeah, that's the Mercedes one\nI stay with the baddest, I'm countin' the cabbage\nWhile makin' my lady cum (I stay with the baddest)\nI bought a G-Wagen, that shit was the BRABUS\nThat's why I be racin' 'em (I bought a G-Wagen)\nYeah, we bought the four-door, had to get ready for war (Yeah)\nI ain't fuck a bitch in so long, I'd do it in a Honda Accord (Woah)\nI had to count my money on the ironing board (Yeah)\nI just took that bitch shoppin', fucked behind the stores (Store)\n\nFucked behind the stores\nYou know that I gotta keep it real, fucked behind the stores (Sure)\nYou know that I gotta keep it real, fucked behind the stores\nYeah, count up a half a mil' up behind the store\nYeah, she gone off that molly like she ain't never take a pill before\nYou act like you tough like your homie ain't ever get killed before\nWhat the...\nYo, what the fuck was that?"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsTop Lyrics\nWho the fuck are you? Ayy\nWho the fuck are you? Ayy\nWho the fuck are you?\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\nWhy you walk so cool? Ayy, thousand dollar shoes, ayy\nHunnid on my jewels, ayy, I got all these groupies\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\n\nWhy you walk so cool? Ayy, thousand dollar shoes, ayy\nFuck bitches in twos, ayy, fuck bitches in twos, ayy\nFucked that bitch on Monday, fuck her sister Tuesday\nYou is not gon' do a thing, with my squad like Wu-Tang, ayy\nI'm gonna knuck if I buck\nLet a lil' nigga try us\nHit a nigga with a truck\nLeave a lil' nigga so stuck\nBrittany turned me to a slut\nBrittany turned me to a slut\nBrittany turned me to a slut\nHit the bitch all on her back, ayy, never put it in her butt, ayy\nPut that shit all in her pussy, ayy, leave that shit all in her gut, ayy\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\nWhy you walk so cool? Ayy, thousand dollar shoes, ayy\nHunnid on my jewels, ayy, I got all these groupies\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\n\nSometimes Fear of God, ayy\nSaint Laurent the boots, ayy\nI feel like I'm Dro, ayy, car ain't got no roof, ayy\nThat bitch kinda cute, ayy, blow me like a flute, ayy\nDiamonds drippin', they so wet, I gotta wipe my jewels, ayy\nI can't wife no fool, ayy, got no time for mood swings\nSpent like 50 on the ring and I brought two rings\nRemember that bitch ain't want fuck me\nNow that bitch wanna just fuck me\nRemember that bitch said I'm dusty\nLook at that hoe like you ugly, ayy\nYour man ain't got no money, ayy\nI just be smokin' the dope, Skeme, he be smokin' the clove\nMy brother whippin' the stove\nJump in the crowd at my show, fucked the bitch in the front row\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\nWhy you walk so cool? Ayy, thousand dollar shoes, ayy\nHunnid on my jewels, ayy, I got all these groupies\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\nFirst I drop my top, ayy, then I swerve my Coupe, ayy\nCounting all these bands, ayy, who the fuck are you? Ayy\n\nCannon, Cannon went crazy\nTreez, what up Treez?\nAyy, ayy, ayy, ayy, uh\nHotel party for these bad hoes\nFor these bad hoes, that trip\nAyy, ayy"}
{"text":"Dear mama (Dear mom)\nLove you mama (That's on gang)\nAnd grandmama (1600 Block)\nSlatt, slatt, slatt\n(That-that-that-that-that-that be Maaly Raw)\n\nDear mama\nI don\u2019t wanna sign off (No way)\nOut here gettin' commas (Count up)\nLike my dad, I'm a grinder (Oh yeah, grinder, grinder)\nShe don\u2019t want me locked up (Locked up)\nMama, I'm gon' wash up (Wash up, yeah)\nWhip my wrist, it lock up (Yeah, okay)\nAll my diamonds rocked up (Oh yeah, okay)\nI don't wanna sign off (Woah)\n\nMama love me so I can do no wrong (Wrong, do no wrong)\nMama in the trap so this her favorite song (Song, favorite song)\nI'm gon' get them racks, lil' baby, they so long (Long, they so long)\nSaid I wasn't nothin\u2019 but I came in strong (Strong)\nYou got the best advice but I won\u2019t call (No way)\nI know I'm grown so I do not need y\u2019all (I got it)\nAnd if I get locked up mom change the law (Oh yeah)\nYou fix everything, so that's what I thought (Thought)\nWhen I was small, mama made me tall (Tall)\nEven though I'm daddy's pup she still gon\u2019 wipe my paws (My paws)\nDon't care about this money, don't care about them cars (She don't, she don't)\nLose my mama, that's a problem you can't solve (Gang)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nDear mama\nI don't wanna sign off (No way)\nOut here gettin' commas (Count up)\nLike my dad, I'm a grinder (Oh yeah, grinder, grinder)\nShe don't want me locked up (Locked up)\nMama, I'm gon' wash up (Wash up, yeah)\nWhip my wrist, it lock up (Yeah, okay)\nAll my diamonds rocked up (Oh yeah, okay)\nI don't wanna sign off (Woah)\n\nNow I got the game in a headlock (Headlock, okay)\nNever catch me lackin', run a red light (No lackin' shorty, skrrt)\nBitch, we talk in codes, we the real slimes (On foenem)\nThey tried to break my safe, I had a deadlock (Deadlock, slatt)\nMama used to bag in the day time (Day time, I say, cool)\nMama got that bag by the night time (Night time)\nWas on 32nd Street, I was like eight then (I think Cumberland)\nMoved to Francisville and met my real friends (Bah)\nMama said, \"Stay down there 'fore you get hurt\" (1600, hurt, I was)\nThat was way before I was Lil Uzi Vert (1600, Lil Uzi Vert)\nMama saw me in action, it could've got worse (1600)\nI know that my mama, know I'm shootin' first\n\nDear mama (Boo, bah)\nI don't wanna sign off (No way)\nOut here gettin' commas (Count up)\nLike my dad, I'm a grinder (Oh yeah, grinder, grinder)\nShe don't want me locked up (Locked up)\nMama, I'm gon' wash up (Wash up, yeah)\nWhip my wrist, it lock up (Yeah, okay)\nAll my diamonds rocked up (Oh yeah, okay)\nI don't wanna sign off (Woah)\nDear mama (Slatt, 1600 Block)\nLove you mama (That's on gang, slatt)\nAnd grandmama (1600 Block)"}
{"text":"Um, I'm on some shit like\nNow I do what I want\nNow I do what I want\nNow I do what I want\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\n(T-T-T-That be Maaly Raw)\n(Cannon)\nNow I do what I want\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want\nNow I do what I want (Of course)\nNow I do what I want\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want\nNow I do what I want\n\nEverybody know I'm better, ayy (Yeah), yeah, I'm better, ayy (Yeah)\nIt don't matter, ayy (What?), pockets fatter, ayy (Ayy)\nNowadays I'm on, my haters, they got sadder, ayy (What?)\nThat's money longer, ayy (Yeah), different song, bruh, ayy (Yeah)\nDifferent producer (Yeah)\nI can do anything and I won't lose her (Yeah)\nShe got right with a winner, left that loser (Bye-bye), ayy (Uh)\nTalkin' shit, boy, make me get my Ruger, yeah, I said my Ruger (Uh)\nAll my niggas they shooters (Pow)\nRockin' them grills all the way 'til my tooth hurt (Yeah)\nOh, he cold? Well, I swear that I'm cooler (Brr)\nThat ain't no Rollie, bitches, it's a Franck Muller, yeah, a Franck Muller (Yeah)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nBoy, I started on the bottom (Huh?)\nMade my way to the top (What?)\nBoy, I'm gon' keep winnin' (I am)\nYou know I cannot stop (I can't)\nRemember I had a little (I did)\nTurned that shit to a lot (I did)\nAlways been one hunnid (I was)\nPut that on my block (Oh yeah)\nUsed to want that four-door (Huh?)\nNow I want that drop (Skrrt-skrrt)\nYeah, now I do what I want (What?)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (What?)\n\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah, I do)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah, I do)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah, I do)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah, I do)\nNow I do what I want (Lil Uzi)\nGirl, you see me gettin' this money, woah, please don't front (Yeah)\nHunt & Fish Club where I'm eatin', woah, what's for lunch?\nAnd them boys back home be talkin' but I won't get touched (I'm not scared)\nStay to myself how I survive, no one who I trust, yeah\nNo one who I trust (Yeah)\nWho them niggas? No, they not with us (No)\nAll these girls, yeah, they ride with us (Yeah)\nI don't pay 'em no mind because I just want the bucks, yeah (Yeah)\n\nBoy, I started on the bottom (Huh?)\nMade my way to the top (What?)\nBoy, I'm gon' keep winnin' (I am)\nYou know I cannot stop (I can't)\nRemember I had a little (I did)\nTurned that shit to a lot (I did)\nAlways been one hundred (I was)\nPut that on my block (Oh yeah)\nUsed to want that four-door (Huh?)\nNow I want that drop (Skrrt-skrrt)\nYeah, now I do what I want (What?)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (What?)"}
{"text":"Yeah, chopstick came with a large lo mein\nExtra clip in it, nigga, I ain't got\u2005no\u2005aim\nBalmain pocket filled\u2005with fresh romaine\nAnd I stay with\u2005the cash like a XO chain\nFifty-five hundred, nigga, that's your\u205frange\nWhen\u205fI\u205fgo to the\u205fclub, make it\u205fstorm, hurricane (Yeah)\nNigga pull up, think he G.I. Joe\nMan, 7.62, turn him G.I. Jane\n\nSaid Rick Owens boot, they be knee-high, mane\nNow when I look down you know I can't see my ankle\nMan, she asked for some racks, gave her three times ten\nPut her right in the condo, put her in the Benz\nAnd I did all of that, don't wanna see her again\nAnd honestly on to better things, that's her friend\nThese niggas groupies, they peons, mane\nKing of my city like Leon, mane\n'Head of these niggas by eons, mane\nShe let me touch for the free-on, mane\nSo you know that's a must like Elon, mane\nThey was hatin', I was spendin', you was savin'\nMan, I'm countin' up green like a pea pod, mane\nI was holdin' down my team like my name was Peyton\nHad to make sure my brother good, Eli Manning\nCartiers got diamonds all in the middle\nLike a nigga pulled up with three eyes, mane\nJust know them shits, they all G.I., mane\nEverybody got Rollies, that's two-time frames\nI said my side girl tryna be my main\nAnd I said my main girl keep stalkin' my side\nI told her, \"Shut up and go for a ride\" (Skrrt)\nIn this Rolls-Royce truck\nGirl, yeah, you can be on the bus (Yeah)\nYou can get what you want\nOut the mall, no need to hold me up (Woo)\nRickity-racks that's all in my Louis V jeans, double stuffed (Rickity-racks)\nI'm turnt to the max, these lil' itty-bitty niggas know it's up\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nYeah, chopstick came with a large lo mein\nExtra clip in it, nigga, I ain't got no aim\nI said, Balmain pocket filled with fresh romaine\nAnd I stay with the cash like a XO chain\nFifty-five hundred, nigga, that's your range\nWhen I came to the club, make it storm, hurricane\nNigga pull up, think he G.I. Joe\nMan, 7.62, turn him G.I. Jane\n\nI said it's up, up, up, uppity (Yeah)\nMoonwalkin' all on the money (Yeah)\nWhen I moonwalk, my diamonds still sunny (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWhen I moonwalk, I don't need no twenties\nWhen it come to the drip, not in front of me (Woah)\nWearin' Balenciaga on my jacket, my shirt\nAnd my pants, and my socks, and my undies (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nWoah, I'm too litty\nYeah, bitch look like Chinese Kitty (Yeah)\n1942 in my section, no Remy (Let's go)\nTook JT out the city (Yeah)\nI can make a ho get way too sticky\nYeah, way, way, way too sticky (Woah)\nHold up, don't you got a whole situation? (Damn)\nLivin' my life, too risky (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nHow you doin', Uzi? I'm doin' great\nI pulled up in the foreign, let's race (Skrrt)\nYes, I stay with some money on me (Money)\nOnly thing in my pocket, big face (What?)\nIt's amazing to me how my baby pull up with a fat ass and a skinny waist\nIt's amazing to me how I spend all this money and I ain't even go in my safe (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nIt's amazing to me how these niggas don't know me but still find a way just to hate (Yeah, yeah)\nIt's amazing to me how back then she ain't want me but now she wanna go on a date (Yeah)\nIt's amazing to me how she ask for them racks, told that girl get the fuck out my face (Ha)\nIt's amazing to me how I'm eatin' so much and I still didn't gain no weight (Woah)\nYeah, chopstick came with a large lo mein\nExtra clip in it, nigga, I ain't got no aim\nI said, Balmain pocket filled with fresh romaine\nAnd I stay with the cash like a XO chain\nFifty-five hundred, nigga, that's your range\nWhen I came to the club, make it storm, hurricane (Yeah)\nNigga pull up, think he G.I. Joe\nMan, 7.62, turn him G.I. Jane\n\nI said it's up, up, up, uppity (Yeah)\nMoonwalkin' all on the money (Yeah)\nWhen I moonwalk, my diamonds still sunny (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWhen I moonwalk, I don't need no twenties\nWhen it come to the drip, not in front of me\nWearin' Balenciaga on my jacket, my shirt\nAnd my pants, and my socks, and my undies (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nWhat the f\u2014\nThat shit smoking, what the\u2014"}
{"text":"Yeah (Oogie Mane, he killed it)\nWe tear it up, tear it up, tear it up\n(I'm workin' on dying)\nYeah\n\nFuck from the back, hit her once, that's a wrap (Let's go)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rack, rack)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rack)\nWater on my neck, swim through that, that's a lap (Water)\nFuck from the back, hit her once, that's a wrap (Woah)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Fact, fact)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (A fact)\nWater on my neck, swim through that, that's a lap (A fuckin' fact)\n\nFendi knapsack, while I'm spittin' Fendi facts (Facts)\nI don't want you back, you a thot, you a nat (A fuckin' nat)\nJust like his bitch ass, that fuck nigga will get clapped (Will get clapped)\nPut a pause on that, you still broke, you ain't back (Yeah)\n\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rackie)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rackie)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rackie)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI could never change, gotta stick to my routine\nI'ma hit it once, then you know I gotta leave\nGot addictive personality, I turned into a fiend\nOkay, my money sky blue, but my new coupe is slime green\nMy boys whip work 'til the white turn all tan (Tan)\nSaw a minivan followin' my brand new Lamb' (Lamb')\nI had a F and an N in my hand (And an N)\nAll my bitches tens, no, I do not fuck no fans\nI was checkin' my DMs, found out she was a man (No, no, no)\nI can't DM, never, ever again (No)\nLucien on my vision, that's the only thing that's tran (Yeah)\nOkay, okay, nigga, let's get it\nGot your bitch on my top just like a fitted (Let's get it)\nI don't want it no more, then I gotta clip it\nBalmain jeans, on the front got the zipper\nMy ice game got cold, got sicker\nI'm a Leo like lion, I'm Simba\nStand on my money, I'm tall like a center\nJune and July cold just like December\nIt's too low, then the car, I lift it\nI know baby girl miss my drip, yeah\nGirl, your breath stink, need a spearmint, many (Yeah)\nYou need to go and take a minute\nBut your ass fat, lemme go for the finish\nOverseas, I'm eatin' croissants\nTold a fuck nigga, \"Don't touch my crumpet\" (No)\nShe a lil' thot, can't wife no bird\nFour years, I ain't touch no chick\nWhip back-to-back, back-to-back, back-to-back (Yeah)\nBentley, Hellcat, new Lambo and Maybach (Yeah)\nI can't talk on the phone, think my shit is tapped (Hello?)\nFuck from the back, hit her once, that's a wrap (Wrap)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rack)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rackie)\nWater on my neck, swim through that, that's a lap (Lap)\nFendi knapsack, while I'm spittin' Fendi facts (Facts)\n\nI don't want you back, you a thot, you a nat (Nat, nat)\nYes, that's them racks, that's them racks, that's them racks (Racks, racks)\nYour jeans, they too fat, man, them shits, they relaxed\nI got on Dior, and my skinnies, they all black\nIf we serve the sack, then we take that shit right back (Back, back)\nTried to hold me tight, but I didn't hug her back (No way)\n'Cause she tried to snatch out my pocket with the racks (These racks)\n\nFuck from the back, hit her once, that's a wrap (Let's go)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rack, rack)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rack)\nWater on my neck, swim through that, that's a lap (Water)\nFuck from the back, hit her once, that's a wrap (Go)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Rack, rack)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (That's a fact)\nNo strings attached, that's a rack, that's a rack (Facts)"}
{"text":"(Oh my God, what is this? An L beat?)\nFree Uzi, yeah\n(This an L beat, oh)\n\nYeah, I remember when that girl didn't need me\nI didn\u2019t have no money, and I couldn't find out what's the reason (Why?)\nNow that ho back on my team, \u2019cause my neck wet like a squeegee (Woah)\nWe served them packs in the net, we get them racks like Serena, uh (Woo)\nYeah, the sun out, so my boys gonna trap today\nWhen you get money every day like Saturday (Woo)\nNigga's lyin', yeah, he stuck with a cappin' face\nNiggas rattin', they get hit with the MAC today (Woo)\nThis my I-don't-even-know-um-what-happened face\nGrandma in the kitchen still singin' \"Happy Days\" (Yeah)\nI just popped a G6, I'm in my happy place\nShe was trippin\u2019, had to ask her, \"What Perc\u2019 you take?\" (Let's go!)\n\nI can make your lil\u2019 bitch just wanna percolate\nSex first, then we can have a after-date (Yeah)\nGave me head 'til my shit, um, decapitate\nLook me in my eye and do, um, that nasty face (Woah)\nMake it rain in the club, like a nasty day\nTold 'em that I'm comin\u2019, oh, no ejaculate\nPastry, pocket, boy, you not havin' cake\nFuck that overcoat, and I swear your jacket late\nBro just made his money back off a half a plate\nRollie cost me forty thousand, that's half the face (Let's go)\nI remember when them niggas all laughed at me\nPortfolios, now they all bring they apps to me\nWish before me that my bitch practiced abstinence\nWishes don't come true until you just practice it\nNiggas broke? Never, ho, bitch, we havin' it\nYes, we spendin' it, but you know we stackin' it (Let's go)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI was steppin' on the beat, took a nap on it\nIf she shake her ass, you know I'm gon' slap on it\nShe was suckin' my dick right on her knees\nHer mama bust in, she said, \"Girl, what is happenin'?\"\nShe said, \"Baby, you know your dad a panther?\"\nShe said, \"Mama, I'm just doin' the Kaepernick\"\nFrito-Lay, yeah, you know that I'm stackin' chips\nGot a tattooed face so you can't see my blasphemy\nIt's some niggas that really just wan' blast at me\nBut you know I got some niggas that blast for me\nI'm not tall, but I ball like a athlete\nCount my money, yeah, I turn to a mathlete\nHad to get my business together (Yup)\nI had three million in taxes (I did)\nI got it all off on this level (Yup)\nThey said it's three million that's missin'\nI ain't say nothin', I stayed level (Ooh)\nCouple dolls on me, say, \"Hey, yellow\"\nThis that my-money-gon'-stay level (Ooh)\nI don't give a fuck, I'ma stay rebel (Yup)\nBackwood on me, bitch, you stay 'rello (What else?)\nI got my metal, so stay mellow\nGot them boulders, my neck won't see a pebble (Uh)\n\nI can make your lil' bitch just wanna percolate\nSex first, then we can have a after-date (Yeah)\nGave me head 'til my shit, um, decapitate\nLook me in my eye and do, um, that nasty face (Woah)\nMake it rain in the club, like a nasty day\nTold 'em that I'm comin', oh, no ejaculate\nPastry, pocket, boy, you not havin' cake\nFuck that overcoat, and I swear your jacket late\nBro just made his money back off a half a plate\nRollie cost me forty thousand, that's half the face (Let's go)\nI remember when them niggas all laughed at me\nPortfolios, now they all bring they apps to me\nWish before me that my bitch practiced abstinence\nWishes don't come true until you just practice it\nNiggas broke? Never, ho, bitch, we havin' it\nYes, we spendin' it, but you know we stackin' it (Let's go)\nForeign car, make your bitch wanna hop in it (Skrrt)\nDon't know my name, but she start givin' top in it\nLil Uzi make these bitches wan' flock in it\nWonton, flood the block with some Wock' in it\nThey saw us comin', so they all just start hop the fence\nGangway, yeah, you know you get shot in it\nAlexander Wang, bitch, I came from poverty\nGot a plug, bring that shit right from Providence\nKill a opp, now my boys gonna hibernate\nSike, nah, they back on it the next day\nThe reason he died 'cause that boy gon' hesitate\nNigga, you started this shit, I'm just, \"Let's play\"\nShe suck on my dick 'til that bitch gon' regurgitate\nShe tellin' you that she never even heard of me\nI can't trust none of these niggas, might turn on me\nI'm still a millionaire, this shit not hurtin' me (Woah)\nBut it's hurtin' you (Yeah)\nAnd I know the truth\nI still watch Big Bang Theory, that's the nerd in me\nI remember when your ass was just swervin' me\nPlease keep that same energy with the urgency\nI'm liftin' these big ol' stacks like my name Hercules\nBulletproof on my tank, that's my insurgency\nThese old niggas wan' rob me like a burglary (Let's go)\nI can make your lil' bitch just wanna percolate\nSex first, then we can have a after-date (Free Uzi)\nGave me head 'til my shit, um, decapitate\nLook me in my eye and do, um, that nasty face (Free Uzi)\nMake it rain in the club, like a nasty day\nTold 'em that I'm comin', oh, no ejaculate (Yeah)\nPastry, pocket, boy, you not havin' cake\nFuck that overcoat, and I swear your jacket late\nBro just made his money back off a half a plate\nRollie cost me forty thousand, that's half the face (Let's go)\nI remember when them niggas all laughed at me\nPortfolios, now they all bring they apps to me\nWish before me that my bitch practiced abstinence\nWishes don't come true until you just practice it\nNiggas broke? Never, ho, bitch, we havin' it\nYes, we spendin' it, but you know we stackin' it\n\nFree Uzi"}
{"text":"Okay, I'm ready\n\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\n\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nMillion on me, JAY-Z (JAY-Z, slime)\nCount up, fuck nigga, pay me\n\nPull up, walk in\nEverybody yell like, \"Watch out\"\nGot it too lit like, \"Pipe down\"\nNo, I can't wait, need it right now\nGet guap, I'm the one who she like now\nCount it up from the morning to the night now\nThat's the reason that a nigga wanna fight now?\n'Cause my diamonds shine like a lighthouse?\n(That-That-That-That-That-That be Maaly Raw)\nPull up, walk in\nEverybody yell like, \"Watch out\"\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\n\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nMillion on me, JAY-Z (JAY-Z, slime)\nCount up, fuck nigga, pay me\n\nWoah, fuck your bitch, I'm bored\nRockstar, that's of course\nWhite girl like Lorde\nShe don't really get too impressed, Honda Accord\n'Long as she get her beauty rest, then I'm aboard (Lil Uzi)\nGot that girl wet, she need three towels (Ayy)\nCall my phone like every day on speed dial\nHundred thousand, new watch, got like three dials\nI don't eat out, hit once, leave out (I don't)\nBreathe in, breathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\nBack it up, rack it up, told that bitch, \"Back it up\" (Back it up)\nThirty nails, hammer tucked (Buh)\nSo there's no way that you jamming us, ooh (No way)\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\n\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nMillion on me, JAY-Z (JAY-Z)\nCount up, fuck nigga, pay me (Chee)\n\nPull up, sauce (Skrrt), got the drip (Skrrt, skrrt)\nForeign broads (What?), like 'em mixed (Mixed, slime)\nBulldog (Dog), with a pit (Pit, slime)\nBulldog (Dog), with a grip (Grip)\n\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nMillion on me, JAY-Z (JAY-Z, slime)\nCount up, fuck nigga, pay me\n\nAll these niggas, yeah, hate me (Why?)\nCovered in that water, waist-deep (Water, woah)\nPull up in that Lamb', just me (Woah, skrrt, skrrt)\nMy niggas pullin' up, eight deep (What's up?)\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\n\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nMillion on me, JAY-Z\nCount up, fuck nigga, pay me\n\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\nBreathe in (Woo), breathe in (Woo), breathe out, shake that ass\nSpeed up, go fast, slow down\n\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nFour, four (Ayy), four (Four, four, four, four), four (Ayy, ayy)\nMillion on me, JAY-Z\nCount up, fuck nigga, pay me\n\nPull up, walk in (Skrrt)\nEverybody yell like, \"Watch out\" (Let's go)\nGot it too lit like, \"Pipe down\" (Yeah)\nNo, I can't wait, need it right now (Huh?)\nGet guap, I'm the one who she like now (Huh?)\nCount it up from the morning to the night now (Yeah)\nThat's the reason that a nigga wanna fight now? (What? Huh?)\n'Cause my diamonds shine like a lighthouse? (Let's go, huh?)\nPull up, walk in (Ayy, what?)\nEverybody yell like, \"Watch out\" (Yeah, yeah)\nGot it too lit like, \"Pipe down\" (Yeah, huh?)\nNo, I can't wait, need it right now (Ayy)\nGet guap, I'm the one who she like now (Yeah, what?)\nCount it up from the morning to the night now (Huh?)\nThat's the reason that a nigga wanna fight now? (Ayy)\n'Cause my diamonds shine like a lighthouse?"}
{"text":"Yeah\nWoo, woo (Let's go, Mario)\nWoo, woo (Let's go)\nWoo, woo, woo (Yeah)\nWoo (Lil Uzi Vert), woo,\u2005woo,\u2005woo, woo, woo\u2005(Yeah)\n\nUh, I came in with a\u2005new 40 Glock\nFuck on your bitch, make that ho wanna\u205fMilly\u205fRock\nI'm\u205fwith my boys,\u205fand no, we\u205fdo not Milly Rock\nFunny money, no, this is not no silly guap\nGot a Richard Mille, this not a silly watch (Woah)\nAll this money make me wan' hit my Diddy Bop\nTell the teller at the bank, um, just give me lots (Hello?)\nAt the dealer, I can't pull this shit off the lot\nMe and my boys, you know that we sharin' thots\nI got niggas that be movin' the tan rock\nThat's the end of that, no, I cannot talk a lot\nMan, these niggas out here, I swear they talk a lot\nDrive-by on a rat, you a walkin' cop\nDouble-park, new Lambo' with no parkin' spot\nComme des Gar\u00e7ons, use my heart a lot (Blah)\n\nBend it over, little baby, just arch a lot\nYeah, she caramel, but I call that bitch butterscotch\nDove bars, yeah, they choppin' that soap a lot\nGot my money, then I had to just flood the block (Yeah)\nI'm the only one that fucked on that bitch\nBut I made that ho just cum and just neck the block (Ayy, ayy)\nYeah, I pulled up in my car, bitch, I blessed the block\nWe got shooters that's gon' pull up and X your block (Blah)\nWoo, woo, woo, woo (Yeah)\nMakin' money like a nigga don't need to drop\nOne eye open, 'Luminati like Fetty Wap\nMicrowave help me dry out the Redi Rock\nThrowin' money, beat the pockets, got heavy knots\nGettin' guala, they don't know when the fetti stop\nEvery day my birthday, why the confetti stop?\nShe look good, but she wear Fashion Nova\nTook her shoppin', put her right in some Vetements\nGot a bitch, yeah, she live in New York\nBut I took her right down right in LA\nSpent a hundred thousand right at the Beverly\nIntersection probably where, um, the felons be\nI'm on Rodeo, it ain't shit you could tell to me\nAnd I'm on a boat, it ain't shit you could sell to me\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nUh, I came in with a new 40 Glock\nFuck on your bitch, make that ho wanna Milly Rock\nI'm with my boys, and no, we do not Milly Rock\nFunny money, no, this is not no silly guap\nGot a Richard Mille, this not a silly watch\nAll this money make me wan' hit my Diddy Bop\nTell the teller at the bank, um, just give me lots\nAt the dealer, I can't pull this shit off the lot\nMe and my boys, you know that we sharin' thots\nI got niggas that be movin' the tan rock\nThat's the end of that, no, I cannot talk a lot\nMan, these niggas out here, I swear they talk a lot\nDrive-by on a rat, you a walkin' cop\nDouble-park, new Lambo' with no parkin' spot\nComme des Gar\u00e7ons, use my heart a lot\n\nI was chillin' with the niggas you fear a lot\nHighbridge, I was just right there on the block\nWhat do they got in common with Uzi? (Yeah)\nWe get money and we fucked up just on your thots (Yeah)\nMake the haters sit back and just, um, think a lot\nI'm so lit, I could make your whole strip hot\nHit your bitch, yeah, she make me wan' body rock\nYeah, your bitch, she a thotty, old thotty-thot\nMake her drop, then she gave that boy sloppy top\nThis Chanel, no, I don't wear no Baccarat\nWent to Vegas, made some money off baccarat\nRaf Simons jeans, they good for the pocket rock\nI'm in Elliot, keep tryna get these diamond socks\nSlidin' all on the ice like a hockey shot\nSeventeen-five for a t-shirt\nHe got half like he pulled up just with a crop, woah\nGators on me, you can't catch me in bummy Crocs\nI'm a hare all on my bike, bitch, I bunny hop\nHugh Hefner died, so I can't get bunny top\nI can never die unless all my money stops\nFuckin' all on your bitch and I use a thumb a lot\nWhen I do that, yeah, I make that bitch cum a lot\nCountin' up my millions, you know it's up a lot (Yeah)\nUh, I came in with a new 40 Glock\nFuck on your bitch, make that ho wanna Milly Rock\nI'm with my boys, and no, we do not Milly Rock\nFunny money, no, this is not no silly guap\nGot a Richard Mille, this not a silly watch\nAll this money make me wan' hit my Diddy Bop\nTell the teller at the bank, um, just give me lots\nAt the dealer, I can't pull this shit off the lot\nMe and my boys, you know that we sharin' thots\nI got niggas that be movin' the tan rock\nThat's the end of that, no, I cannot talk a lot\nMan, these niggas out here, I swear they talk a lot\nDrive-by on a rat, you a walkin' cop\nDouble-park, new Lambo' with no parkin' spot\nComme des Gar\u00e7ons, use my heart a lot (Lil Uzi)"}
{"text":"(Wheezy outta here)\n\nNo, I will not answer, please do not do call my phone\nMr. Do-Not-Answer-Phone\nPlease, oh, girl, oh, leave me 'lone\nDouble cup, it's styrofoam\nPull up, my car, it go, \"Vroom\"\nThis a coupe, no, no legroom\nPull up on your bitch like, \"Zoom\"\n\nWhat you thought, that I wasn't gon' come through?\nWhat you thought, I wasn't gon' get comfortable?\nYou know I wouldn't do this if it wasn't you\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nI know what I can and what I can't do\n\nI know every time that I'ma come through\nYeah, I just turned to the big man\nBig shoes, big hands, countin' big bands\nBig B on the back of my new pants\nShe saw the zippers and said, \"Those are some sick pants\"\nOoh, I cop Balmain by the flurry\nI got all this money nowadays, so I can't worry\nBreathe in, breathe out, so a bitch can't serve me\nSize 29 my jeans, but my clip is a thirty\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nNo, I will not answer, please do not do call my phone\nMr. Do-Not-Answer-Phone\nPlease, oh, girl, oh, leave me 'lone\nDouble cup, it's styrofoam\nPull up, my car, it go, \"Vroom\"\nThis a coupe, no, no legroom\nPull up on your bitch like, \"Zoom\"\n\nWhat you thought, that I wasn't gon' come through?\nWhat you thought, I wasn't gon' get comfortable?\nYou know I wouldn't do this if it wasn't you\n\nOoh, I'ma get it, run it up, got no choice\nI'ma sing until I got no voice\nI don't fuck with you boys\n\nI know every time that I'ma come through\nYeah, I just turned to the big man\nBig shoes, big hands, countin' big bands\nBig B on the back of my new pants\nShe saw the zippers and said, \"Those are some sick pants\"\nOoh, I cop Balmain by the flurry\nI got all this money nowadays, so I can't worry\nBreathe in, breathe out, so a bitch can't serve me\nSize 29 my jeans, but my clip is a thirty\nNo, I will not answer, please do not do call my phone\nMr. Do-Not-Answer-Phone\nPlease, oh, girl, oh, leave me 'lone\nDouble cup, it's styrofoam\nPull up, my car, it go, \"Vroom\"\nThis a coupe, no, no legroom\nPull up on your bitch like, \"Zoom\"\n\nWhat you thought, that I wasn't gon' come through?\nWhat you thought, I wasn't gon' get comfortable?\nYou know I wouldn't do this if it wasn't you"}
{"text":"Uzi (Yeah)\nPink Tape\nLil Uzi\n(Bugz Ronin, he gon' run it up)\nYeah\nI sold my soul for Chrome Heart mixed with Carhartt (What?)\nYes, I'm splashin' in fashion, I can't take no loss (Loss)\nI rock Junya on wannabes, I got no heart (Heart)\nI put Endless to denim on rims on my car (Skrrt, woah)\nI got a Republican doctor (Yeah)\nMade my ass great again, MAGA (Woah)\nKnow you mad now, enchilada\nWhen bitches test me, it get messy like soccer\nI sold my soul for Chrome Heart mixed with Carhartt (Woah)\nYes, I'm splashin' in fashion, I can't take no loss\nI rock Junya on wannabes, I got no heart (No wannabe)\nI put Endless to denim on rims on my car (Skrrt)\nI got a Republican doctor (Ah)\nMade my ass great again, MAGA\nBitch, don't make me rag you, pasta\nI'm numb\u0435r one, you could only be dolce, Gabbana\n\nI got a Chin\u0435se girl, yeah, she from Shanghai (Ni hao)\nShe goes to Parsons in New York, got good eye\nI know I love her, only saw her two times\nI met her at Dover Street Market, good eye\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nAyo, even if my name was Natalie Nunn\nYou bitches still couldn't chin-check me\nThat's word to Chanel, they ain't nothin' to see\nBitches on TV channelin' me\nHarajuku Barbie, Roman Zolanski\nFrom Red Ruby to Chun-Li\nI put door knocker earrings in Fendi (Oh)\nThen stamped the trench coat Burberry\nWhere the C-O-M-P-E-T-I-T-I-O-N? Don't see any (Oop)\nSittin' under stars in the city lights (City lights)\nBaby daddy tell me I got pretty eyes (Pretty eyes)\nBitches only eatin' when I dust crumbs (Dust crumbs)\nI stay with that Uzi, I'm his plus one (Oop)\nI was really in the field with Karl Lager' (Oop)\nAnd now it's Heaven campaigns (R.I.P.)\nCheck in with Dapper Dan when I'm in Harlem\nMy niggas'll blow like Virgil\nI got that duffel (Heard you), mm\nOoh\nEverything we do, you motherfuckers do it too\nHeavy on it, tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick too\nEverything we do\n\nThese rappers can't dress, yeah, they just be hatin'\nI never ratted, but got all the statements\nStopped wearing Kapital 'cause it got basic\nI still wear Kapital, Uzi, stop fakin'\nI used to wear more Number (N)ine than Asians\nI mix the Greg Lauren, Purple Label\nMy closet too cluttered, clothes on my table\nWe wore that VLONE 'til it turned faded\nYeah, I'm the reason why niggas wear them Goyard bags (Yeah)\nIt was niggas doing it, but I brought that shit to the hood (I started that shit)\nAnd I made that shit all good (I started that shit)\nThey stalkin' my swag, stalkin' my swag\n\nI sold my soul for Chrome Heart mixed with Carhartt (Woah)\nYes, I'm splashin' in fashion, I can't take no loss\nI rock Junya on wannabes, I got no heart\nI put Endless to denim on rims on my car (Skrrt)\nI sold my soul for Chrome Heart mixed with Carhartt (Yes)\nYes, I'm splashin' in fashion, I can't take no loss (No)\nI rock Junya on wannabes, I got no heart\nI put Endless to denim on rims on my car"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsSideLine Watching (Hold Up) Lyrics\n(Zaytoven)\n\nHold up, hold up, hold up (What?)\nLet me catch my breath (Yeah)\nLet me count these checks (What?)\nFlex on my ex (Yeah)\nI don't got no respect (I don't, I don't)\nBreak up in a text (What?)\nPull up in a G (Yeah)\nT3, fly off in a jet (Vroom)\n\nPull up, I'm suited (Yeah)\nAnd you know I got my toolie (My what?)\nOkay, I might Bentley Coupe it (What?)\nHeard you pull up, Mini Cooper (Yeah)\nTold that lil' bitch that she stupid\nOkay, these niggas can't move me (What?)\nOkay, these bitches can't move me (Chee)\nThose are not diamonds, they're rubies (Chee, chee)\nWait that's not rubies, that's glass (Damn)\nSmack that bitch right on the ass (What?)\nI know that she's scared to lose me (What?)\nYeah, my Polo be from Louis (Yeah)\nNiggas act like they was rootin' (They was)\nBut they really be some goofies (They is)\nIf you don't like me then sue me (What?)\nYeah, my new girl got that booty (Yeah)\nThat my new girl up at Gucci\nYeah, what?\nThat my new girl up at Gucci (What?)\nYeah, what? (Chee)\nSpend them bands all up at Gucci (Yeah)\nLook at your chain who your jeweler? (What?)\nYou need to come to my jeweler (Come on)\nI put a chain on my shooter (Yeah)\nI put a stick on my Ruger (Bah)\nIn her dreams like Freddy Krueger (Yeah)\nJust met her, act like I knew her (I do)\n'Rari pull off Ferris Bueller (Yeah, yeah)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nHold up, hold up, hold up (What?)\nLet me catch my breath (Yeah)\nLet me count these checks (What?)\nFlex on my ex (Yeah)\nI don't got no respect (I don't, I don't)\nBreak up in a text (What?)\nPull up in a G (Yeah)\nT3, fly off in a jet (Vroom)\nHold up, hold up, hold up (What?)\nLet me catch my breath (Yeah)\nLet me count these checks (What?)\nFlex on my ex (Yeah)\nI don't got no respect (I don't, I don't)\nBreak up in a text (What?)\nPull up in a G (Yeah)\nT3, fly off in a jet (Vroom)\n\nLil Uzi Vert like who the fuck are you? (Yeah), yeah\nAlmost didn't make it but I made it through (Yeah, I made it through), yeah\nGettin' to the money, if you snooze, you lose (If you snooze, you lose), woah\nYou should see the way that they plot on you (Yeah, way that they plot on, what?), yeah\nWait, why they plot on me? (Damn)\n'Cause they really know it ain't no stopping me (No stopping me)\nLike, first I hit my dance then they flock to me (Flock, they flock, they flock)\nWent and did it all night, girl, I gotta leave (Yeah), yeah\nPat your weave down 'fore you see your man\nOh no, now he all mad (Yeah), everything gon' hit the fan (Yeah)\nI don't want that, um, again (Yeah), I don't want, want that again (Lil Uzi)\nEven though that girl a ten (What?), think we better off being friends (For real)\nPsyche, I'ma hit that again (Yeah)\nI'ma lick that again (Yeah), I'ma split that again (Yeah)\nNow I do what I want (Yeah), can't do what I can (No, Lil Uzi)\nThink you're on, not at all (Yeah), 'cause you know I ball (Ayy, Lil Uzi)\nYeah (What?)\nBoy, I heard you soft (Yeah)\nI'ma cop it for the cost (Huh?)\nSmoke the gas on my cloth\nHold up, hold up, hold up (What?)\nLet me catch my breath (Yeah)\nLet me count these checks (What?)\nFlex on my ex (Yeah)\nI don't got no respect (I don't, I don't)\nBreak up in a text (What?)\nPull up in a G (Yeah)\nT3, fly off in a jet (Vroom)\nHold up, hold up, hold up (What?)\nLet me catch my breath (Yeah)\nLet me count these checks (What?)\nFlex on my ex (Yeah)\nI don't got no respect (I don't, I don't)\nBreak up in a text (What?)\nPull up in a G (Yeah)\nT3, fly off in a jet (Vroom)"}
{"text":"(Yo, yo, Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?)\n(Metro)\nI love you\nI don't want you\n\nI don't know what's next, yeah\nI don't want my ex, no\nBreak up with a text\nI'm not tryna flex (What? What?)\nGirl, you know the rest (Bye-bye, ho)\nBitch, I write a check\nWalkin' with a check (With a check)\nTake off in a jet (I don't want my ex)\nSo I just never stress\n\nI could never stress (Stress)\nYeah, my life's a mess (Pew, pew, pew)\nBut I'm also blessed (Blessed)\nMy heart's in the junkyard 'cause it's wrecked\nAnd today's not feeling like it used to (Yeah)\nYou got stuck up in that life that you was used to (Yeah)\nIf you got hurt, yeah, I got hurt, yeah, I got bruised too (Yeah)\nThat's the main reason why I had to choose you\nIf you got options I got options, baby, who you?\nI got one that's on my line that look like new new\nShe got ass just like a zebra on a zoo too\nSo basically what I'm saying, I'm not scared to lose you\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI don't want my ex (Ayy, no)\nBreak up with a text\nI'm not tryna flex (What? What?)\nGirl you know the, rest (Bye-bye, ho)\nBitch, I write a check\nWalkin' with a check (With a check)\nTake off in a jet (I don't want my ex)\nSo I just never stress\n\nLeonardo DiCaprio (Yeah, swag)\nWatch out, boys, I might bag your ho (Yeah)\nLove so strong, that shit had me gone (Gone)\nDidn't care too, I was all alone ('Lone, VLONE)\nSwag on them by mistake\nI cannot believe that I made this shit from a mixtape (Tape, yeah)\nBitch, you know I'm flooded, then you know my momma wrist straight (Yeah)\nGrandma don't like diamonds, she say \"Make sure that my rent's paid,\" yeah\nAnd I make sure that your rent's paid\nMake you live your own life when you hung out with Lindsay\nI don't want you never ever running in a frenzy\nBut that's just some shit that everybody friends say\n\nI don't know what's next, yeah (Yeah)\nI don't want my ex, no (I don't want her back)\nBreak up with a text (Break up with a)\nI'm not tryna flex (What? What?)\nGirl you know the, rest (Bye-bye, ho)\nBitch, I write a check\nWalkin' with a check (With a check)\nTake off in a jet (I don't want my ex)\nSo I just never stress\nLeonardo DiCaprio\nLeonardo DiCaprio\nLeonardo DiCaprio\nWatch out, boys, I might bag your ho"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsLUV SCARS K.o 1600 Lyrics\nDamn, DJ Plugg, you just killed it\n\nSo much water on my neck might need a boat or somethin' (Hey)\nSo many different girls I got a load of 'em (Yeah)\nWhy you always hatin'? Go and get you some\nGirl, why you always trippin' when you know it's love?\nWalk around, Cuban link, my Patek is flooded (Blaow)\nNow my pockets super deep, flooded with them hundreds (Ooh)\nFlooded with them hundreds (Damn)\nFlooded with them hundreds\nWhat you thought it was?\n\nAnd it's 1600 (1600)\nTry to take my soul, my young niggas, they coming (Fire)\nI remember when they said that I was nothing (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI can't trust my brother, I can't trust my cousin (No)\nNo, let me take my time (Take your time)\nI want every girl like I can't make my mind (No, can't make my mind)\nI spent 80,000 just to flood the time (Time, blah)\nI don't wear no Hanes, my T-shirt Saint Laurent (Yeah)\nI just made a whole bag from like half of a show\nI still got some boys sad, moving bags of the dope\nYeah, you know I got that cash, you'll get blast on the low\nJust because you knew my dad don't mean that I play you close\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nSo much water on my neck might need a boat or somethin' (Hey)\nSo many different girls, I got a load of 'em (Yeah)\nWhy you always hatin'? Go and get you some\nGirl, why you always trippin' when you know it's love?\nWalk around, Cuban link, my Patek is flooded (Blaow)\nNow my pockets super deep, flooded with them hundreds (Ooh)\nFlooded with them hundreds (Damn)\nFlooded with them hundreds\nWhat you thought it was?\n\nI've been by myself, so I'm not losing health (No way)\nI don't need you niggas, look like you can't tell\nCan't do nothing around you, 'cause we know you gon' tell\nNiggas I grew up with got a five-star room in Hell\nWait, 'cause they not loyal (Bah)\nCan't believe we grew up in the soil (Fuck nigga, fuck nigga, fuck nigga)\nTell my niggas I got them with lawyers (Yeah)\nMan, I wish I would knew, I would have warned you (Would've warned you)\nMan, I wish I would knew, I would have warned you (Warned you)\nThey killed Ninety right there on the corner (Damn)\nI miss Chico, I swear that's my brother (Damn, I love you)\nLooking down on me right with his mother (Chee)\n\nSo much water on my neck might need a boat or somethin' (Hey)\nSo many different girls, I got a load of 'em (Yeah)\nWhy you always hatin'? Go and get you some\nGirl, why you always trippin' when you know it's love?\nWalk around, Cuban link, my Patek is flooded (Blaow)\nNow my pockets super deep, flooded with them hundreds (Ooh)\nFlooded with them hundreds (Damn)\nFlooded with them hundreds\nWhat you thought it was?"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah\nOh\nThe best feelin' in the world\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nOh, oh\nYeah, okay, yes\nOne, two\u2005(Alright)\nOne,\u2005two, three, yeah\n\nUh,\u2005you is a lie\nUh, you is\u2005not cut from this side, uh\nYou cannot come to this side, yeah\nGangster, but my jeans too tight (Tight, yeah)\nI see my opps through the sight (Sight)\nHit that bitch once and then tell her good night (Bye-bye)\nAll white on my ice, look like rice (Rice)\nStacked up, then get right out the sight (Sight, uh)\n\nI just went up in my price (Price, uh)\nI just went up in my price (Price, uh)\nI just went up in my price (Price, uh)\nI just went up in my price (Price, ayy)\nI just went up in my price\nMoney, my bank account, this shit precise (Uh)\nI just went up in my price (Uh)\nI just went up in my price (Ayy)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI drive my whip like it stolen (Skrrt)\nYellow diamonds look like Homer (What?)\nHeard that Rolls-Royce is your homie's (Dang)\nSo your whip, that is a loaner (Haha)\nMy money aroused like my boner\nI fucked your bitch and did that off aroma (Yeah)\nWe whip it up, no bakin' soda\nI turn a fuck nigga right to organ donor (Uh, damn)\nOkay, I feel like I own her (Yeah)\nThat girl so smart that she walk for diploma (Woo)\nOff-White, my G-Fazos, they MoMA\nShe give me head all the way 'til I'm in coma (Damn)\nIce is so cold, like pneumonia\nI might hit that bitch with that Super Soaker (Soak)\nI heard that boy gettin' bread\nSo we gon' heat his ass up with the toaster (Ah, yeah, woo)\nGot a model (Model) with vitiligo (Woah)\nShe got a condo (Condo) out in Cabo\nGot a side ho (Yeah) for my side ho (Let's go)\nI get high the most, mix my highs with my lows (Yeah)\n\nUh, you is a lie\nUh, you is not cut from this side, uh\nYou cannot come to this side, yeah\nGangster, but my jeans too tight (Yeah)\nI see my opps through the sight (Uh)\nHit that bitch once and then tell her good night (Yeah, yeah)\nAll white on my ice, look like rice\nStacked up, then get right out the sight (Yeah)\nI just went up in my price (Price)\nI just went up in my price (Price, uh)\nI just went up in my price (Ch-ching)\nI just went up in my price (Price)\nI just went up in my price\nMoney, my bank account, this shit precise (Uh, yeah)\nI just went up in my price (Ayy)\nI just went up in my price (Ayy)\n\nI got the Glick with the lock (The Glick)\nThat lil' bitch still could go and pop (Go pop)\nYou keep flexin' with that drop (That drop)\nBest believe you gon get dropped (Skrrt)\nI get my looks from my mom (My mom, uh)\nI get my swag from my pop (Drip)\nYou did not wanna do no time (Uh)\nSo you start talkin' to the cops (Hello?)\nI skipped in that pussy, then hop (Yeah)\nI heard that bitch, she was hot\nHickory, dickory, dock (Uh)\nVVS all in my clock (My Rollie)\nGet money like Anthony Hop\nSilence the lamb and your ass'll get chopped (Dropped)\nClean up, his brain on aisle five\nSomebody, please can they go get the mop? (The mop)\nAnd I'm with my boys\nSo you know that the gang shit will not stop\nYou know that little bitch gon' look around\nSo if she let me fuck, then the shit is co-op\nYeah, I take more pills and she takin' more shots\nMan, watch the way I had to drip on the block\nOverseas on the jet, I had to slide\nI went all way to Germany, back to Gera (Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh)\nUh, you is a lie\nUh, you is not cut from this side, uh\nYou cannot come to this side, yeah\nGangster, but my jeans too tight (Yeah)\nI see my opps through the sight (Uh)\nHit that bitch once and then tell her good night (Bye-bye)\nAll white on my ice, look like rice\nStacked up, then get right out the sight (Uh)\n\nI just went up in my price (My price, uh)\nI just went up in my price (My price, uh)\nI just went up in my price (My price, uh)\nI just went up in my price (My price, ayy)\nI just went up in my price\nMoney, my bank account, this shit precise (Uh, ayy)\nI just went up in my price (My price, uh)\nI just went up in my price (My price, ayy)\n\nI just went up in my price (Yeah)\nI just went up in my price\nThat's the way that um...\n(Tell 'em who you is)\nI just went up in my price, in my price\n(Yo, it's Wan II)\n(Come over here)\n(You tell 'em too)\n(Yo, it's Wan IV)"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Grab the Wheel Lyrics\nI was broke\nI was just at home\nNow I'm on the road\nTalking to Usher at The Grove (Yeah)\nRocking Balmains, these ain't Joe\nWhen I'm in DC, they call me Moe\nAlways got the pedal to the floor\nI got everything up in the store\n\nThat's just coke up in her nose, that ain't no boogie (Yeah)\nLooking at that girl, I really shouldn't (Huh?)\nLooking at that girl just like I wouldn't (Like I wouldn't)\nLooking at that girl, and then I took it (Yeah)\nGrab the wheel, grab the wheel, grab it like I'm Tuddie (Skrr)\nNowadays I'm getting money I don't worry (Yeah)\nAll my enemies and my opps, they getting buried (Huh?)\nAll my enemies and my opps, they getting buried (Yeah)\n\nYeah, uh\nI won't speak, yeah\nRed bottoms my feet, yeah\nMy bitch on fleek, yeah\nLil Uzi a beast, yeah (Yeah)\nNo more (No)\nI don't want to play no more (No no no)\nI don't want no heartbreak no more (Yeah)\nI don't want to wait no more (Yeah)\nAyy, rocking shows (Huh?)\nI might get a lake house with a boat (Yeah, yeah)\nI might rock all white just like the Pope (Like the Pope)\nI might rock all white just like the stove (Like the stove)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nThat's just coke up in her nose, that ain't no boogie\nLooking at that girl, I really shouldn't\nLooking at that girl just like I wouldn't\nLooking at that girl, and then I took it\nGrab the wheel, grab the wheel, grab it like I'm Tuddie (Ayy)\nNowadays I'm getting money, I don't worry\nAll my enemies and my opps, they getting buried\nAll my enemies and my opps, they getting buried\n\nYeah, uh\nI won't speak, yeah\nRed bottoms my feet, yeah\nMy bitch on fleek, yeah\nLil Uzi a beast, yeah\nNo more (Oh yeah)\nI don't want to play no more (Oh yeah)\nI don't want no heartbreak no more\nI don't want to wait no more (Ooh, ooh)\nAyy, rocking shows (I was)\nI might get a lake house with a boat (I was)\nI might rock all white just like the Pope (I am)\nI might rock all white just like the stove (I was)\n\nI don't know\nLook, I'm only twenty-one, I don't know\nYeah, I don't know\nYou niggas nothing that I know, yeah\nI was broke (I was broke)\nI was just at home (Just at home)\nNow I'm on the road (On the road)\nTalking to Usher at The Grove (Yeah)\nRocking Balmains, these ain't Joe (Yeah)\nWhen I'm in DC, they call me Moe (Yeah)\nAlways got the pedal to the floor (Skrr skrr)\nI got everything up in the store (Lil Uzi, yeah)\nThat's just coke up in her nose, that ain't no boogie (Yeah)\nYeah, looking at that girl, I know shouldn't (Huh?)\nYeah, looking at that girl, I know I wouldn't (Skrr)\nYeah, looking at that girl, and then I took it (Yeah, my god)\nGrab the wheel, grab the wheel, grab it like I'm Tuddie (Skrr)\nNowadays I'm getting money I don't worry (Yeah)\nAll my enemies and my opps, they getting buried (Huh, no way)\nAll my enemies and my opps, they getting buried (Yeah)\n\nAnd I swear it is my time (Whoa, sorry)\nMake her roll weed all the time, yeah\nAnd I mix that lean, ayy, and that lemon lime (No)\nAnd I swear I wouldn't sweat you that much if you wasn't fine (Today)\nWoo, then I made you mine (Shouldn't)\nYou always think I'm lying (Wouldn't)\nYeah, I ain't got time for the lying (Took it)\nGirl, give me some time, yeah\nI can change your life, yeah\n\nI shouldn't\nI wouldn't\nI took it\nYeah (Yeah)\nGrab the wheel, grab the wh\u2014, grab it like I'm Tu\u2014\nNowadays I'm getting money I don't wo\u2014\nAll my enemies and my opps, they getting buried\nAll my enemies and my opps, they getting buried, yeah"}
{"text":"GOAT (Yeah)\nThat's true\nYeah\nUzi? Uzi? Not again\nUzi, wake your ass up\n\nAnd I ain't gon' lie, I got money and the power\nI ain't gon' lie, I got money and the power (Yeah)\nI ain't gon' lie, I got money and the power (Woah)\nI ain't gon' lie (Chee)\nI ain't gon' lie\n\nLil Uzi Vert (Chee)\nLil Uzi Vert\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nAnd I just wanna let you know (Let you know)\nI really, really wanna let you know\nThat I really don't give a fuck what nobody say about me (I don't)\n'Cause you know, I'm the one (Yeah)\nYes, I'm the one that really started all this (GOAT, yeah)\nAnd you know, I changed a lot of you niggas\nIn a matter of months, I raised a lot of you niggas (It's true)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nThey know I'm the one so it's no way they could stop it\nTried to run off with the swag, I put 'em in pocket (Yeah)\nTold my main girl to stop it (Stop)\nShe saw me up in a picture, I thought they cropped it (Oh my God)\nDamn, she think I popped it (Oh my God)\nI will not give these bitches this dick, let them top it (Oh yeah)\nWoah, we're ending that topic\nIn the industry with Dickies all on my Pac shit (Hey)\n\nAnd I ain't gon' lie, I got money and the power (What you got?)\nI ain't gon' lie, I got money and the power (What you got?)\nI ain't gon' lie, I got money and the power (What you got?)\nI ain't gon' lie (Huh, what you got? Huh, what you got?)\nI ain't gon' lie (What you got?)\n\nYeah, the famous life, it'll eat you up alive\nIt's a game, had to put my feelings to the side\n(Put 'em to the side, ayy)\nYeah, the famous life, it'll eat you up alive\nIt's a game, had to put my feelings to the side\n\nTime's up, I check my watch every hour\nAll of my diamonds, they blinding\nI can't fuck her, she a minor (Ayy)\nTime's up, I check my watch every hour\nAll of my diamonds, they blind us\nI can't fuck her, she a minor\nLook for your bitch, you can't find her\nI was the one right behind her (Yeah, yeah)\nTalking that shit, you get tied up\nDon't got enough? Get your grind up\nThe reason I got all these bitches and got all these diamonds\nI can't make my mind up (Chee)\nMind up, she gave me head, gave that mind up\nAnd I ain't gon' lie, I got money and the power (What you got?)\nI ain't gon' lie, I got money and the power (What you got?)\nI ain't gon' lie, I got money and the power (What you got?)\nI ain't gon' lie (What you got?)\nTwo"}
{"text":"Straight bars\nBow, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow, bah (I'm working on\u2005dying)\n\nGot\u2005a bitch, yeah,\u2005she look so good\nBut on the\u2005real, she in denial\nDiamond water, yeah, it look like a river\nLook like I'm standing in the Nile\nIf you really didn't get the last line\nThen your level on the brain of a child\nPay attention, better do the right thing\nOr your pussy ass still workin' at Sal's\n\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga that your bitch wanna top (Yeah)\nMan, she going dumb, she don't stop\nPut it in her mouth, make her jaw lock\nHellcat faster than your whip stock\nSo why would I tell you 'bout the whips that I got?\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga that your bitch wanna top (Yeah)\nMan, she going dumb, she don't stop\nPut it in her mouth, make her jaw lock\nHellcat faster than your whip stock\nSo why would I tell you 'bout the whips that I got? (Yeah, let's go)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nPop, pop, pop, pop, pop, pop\nPop that ass, pop that ass, do the dash\nI be runnin' out of gas\nEvery time I go to the mall just to pop the tags\nI don't really cop nothin' at the mall\nFirst time at the mall, copped it all\nSaid, \"A hundred thousand,\" so I dropped it all\nAnd that wasn't my whole bankroll\nBody roll, waist roll, waist roll\nMake a bitch do what I say so\nWaist trained, got a bitch, taste just like ice cream\nRead her text, she said, \"Girl, I scream\"\nShot a nigga with a 17\nLil Uzi, yeah, I'm from the 16\nGot a million, no Christine\nNeck gleam, wrist gleam, fist gleam\nLil' nigga but I'm doin' big things\nYou ain't ever seen a nigga this clean\nPants cost two K, big jeans\nAnd my shoes cost like sixteen\nHunnid, nigga, that's just what I bleed\nTurned a dead nigga to a blunt of weed\nAnd that last boy taste like Reggie\n'Cause I just lit up Philly\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop\nI'm the nigga that your bitch wanna top (Let's go)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Let's go)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Let's go)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop (Let's go, let's go)\nI'm the nigga that your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga that your bitch wanna top (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Uh-huh)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Ew)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga that your bitch wanna top (Yeah)\n\nMulti bitches\nMulti, multi, multi, multi, multi-grain on my granola bar\nGot a multi, multi, bow tie when I rock my Dior\nMulti, multi, multi, multi, multi-million dollar deals (Let's go)\nI'ma keep it real\nArmstrong, marathon when I'm on a bike like my name Mill (Let's go, let's go, let's go)\nI can make her kneel, beggin' on her knees\nBeggin' me please, so she can see the deal\nI ain't never lackin', I ain't never love her\nBeen alone from little boy so I don't need your opinion\nI been gettin' money, nigga, I been gettin' plenty\nI can fuck your bitch, make her bounce on a Bentley\nI was on a Perky 30, she was on the Henny\nWait, she was fuckin' you, who? Your cousin Vinny?\nThat boy rat, he mouse, she Minnie\nFuckin' that bitch and now she tryna spin me\nNo, and this is no Iovine, not talkin' 'bout Jimmy\nKill these niggas every day like they Kenny\nIf you want money, back Crawford like Cindy\nAnd if you want more, then you better get near me\nI flex on my haters, pull up, threw a fifty\nYo' bitch on my dick and her breath smellin' minty\nI went to the store and got me some Vetements\nSome Pradas, Balenci', Balenci', Balenci'\nI spend it all on that lil' bitch\nBalenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci'\nBalenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci'\nBalenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci', Balenci'\nI'm movin', I'm drippin', got sauce and I'm swaggin'\n'Cause it easy with your bitch on me, no, you can't kiss me\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga that your bitch wanna top (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga that your bitch wanna top (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna pop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga make your bitch wanna drop (Yeah)\nI'm the nigga that your bitch wanna top (Yeah)\n\nPop, pop\nI'm working on dying\nDrop, drop\nWhat the fuck?\nAbducted"}
{"text":"I got one girl from Philly, I think her name Nicki\nAnd I fuck with Nicki\u2005'cause\u2005she not too\u2005picky\nAnd she not too choosy, but\u2005sometimes she bougie\nI play with her kitty until it get\u205fsticky\nI'm\u205fmovin'\u205fthe bitch just\u205flike an alien\nChop\u205fwith a fifty, my Uzi Israeli\nSee, I turned to the boss, can't deal with no middleman\nAnthony Davis, don't deal with the Pelicans (What?)\nStraight out the mud, we got that work that turn you to the Grudge\nLeave you slime like a snail, you get hit with these slugs\nI say how I feel and I do what I want\nAnd not just because it is what it was\nI'm high like a bird, man, but don't got no Lugz\nKnow you heard what I said, got this shit out the mud\nI'm not in these streets, I'm just close with the plug\nI just saw his mother, I gave her a hug\n\nIf you talkin' 'bout the work, nigga, just hide that, supply that\nStuff a hundred rounds in the compact, contact\nI probably fucked the bitch from your hometown projects\nOpened up her mouth, put my dick all inside that\nShe don't get high, but she geeked off the contact\nThat's why I'll never, ever, ever keep in contact (Yeah)\nJust closed case, so a nigga can't find that, baby, where your mind at?\nCome here, girl, sign that, matter fact, oh, never mind then\nFront door, find that after the climax\nAnd she screamin' my name every time we behind it\nWhen I heard the door, get up, baby, where my nine at?\nWater on my neck, 3D like it's IMAX (Water)\nDiamonds turned a bird to a goddamn blind bat\nAss so fat that I got to hit beside that\nHeard a nigga put his Lamb' trucks on finance (Finance)\nWoah (No, no, no), y'all niggas insane\nNo, we're not the same, I'm more like a big body (Skrrt), you like a Range\nThese niggas, they frauds, they repping my gang (Vroom)\nLike, what's up with that? (No, for real)\nI just pulled up Maybach, yeah, and that shit all matte black, yeah\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI got one girl from Philly, I think her name Nicki\nAnd I fuck with Nicki 'cause she not too picky\nAnd she not too choosy, but sometimes she bougie\nI play with her kitty until it get sticky\nI'm movin' the bitch just like an alien\nChop with a fifty, my Uzi Israeli\nSee, I turned to the boss, can't deal with no middleman\nAnthony Davis, don't deal with the Pelicans (What?)\nStraight out the mud, we got that work that turn you to the Grudge\nLeave you slime like a snail, you get hit with these slugs\nI say how I feel and I do what I want\nAnd not just because it is what it was\nI'm high like a bird, man, but don't got no Lugz\nKnow you heard what I said, got this shit out the mud\nI'm not in these streets, I'm just close with the plug\nI just saw his mother, I gave her a hug\n\n(Ooh) Yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah (Drip so hard), it's Lil Uzi Vert\nUh, woah (Made it rain in this bitch), it's Lil Uzi Vert\nI got on my Chrome Hearts (Yeah, yeah)\nOne, two, three, let's go (It's Lil Uzi Vert)\n\nYeah, ever since Clifford, yeah, Uzi been the big dog\nDrippin' in this Ragu, you know I got the big sauce\nEvery outfit, yeah, I gotta get the pic' off\nSaid I know, I know you gon' return to the big boss\nRan this shit back like a motherfuckin' kickoff\n(I just ran this shit back like a motherfuckin' kickoff)\nForty-five-hundred for some Margiela kick-offs\nGot the yellow diamond Patek on my wrist, too pissed off\nLaughin' to the bank, it's funny (Ha-ha)\nGo get you some, go get your own money\nHold on, I got you with some loan money\nNo, matter fact, you ain't help me when I had no money\nThree-hundred thousand, yeah, that's your money\nTwenty more million, that's tour money\nIf you fuck me good, that's your money (Woah)\nI got one girl from Philly, I think her name Nicki\nAnd I fuck with Nicki 'cause she not too picky\nAnd she not too choosy but sometimes she bougie\nI play with her kitty until it get sticky\nI'm movin' the bitch just like an alien\nChop with a fifty, my Uzi Israeli\nSee, I turned to the boss, can't deal with no middleman\nAnthony Davis, don't deal with the Pelicans\nStraight out the mud, we got that work that turn you to the Grudge\nLeave you slime like a snail, you get hit with these slugs\nI say how I feel and I do what I want\nAnd not just because it is what it was\nI'm high like a bird, man, but don't got no Lugz\nKnow you heard what I said, got this shit out the mud\nI'm not in these streets, I'm just close with the plug\nI just saw his mother, I gave her a hug\n\nI just bought the Maybach, yeah\nAnd that shit all matte black, yeah (All matte black)\nI just bought the Maybach, yeah\nAnd that shit all matte black, yeah\nAnd that shit all matte black, yeah\nWait, what the fu\u2014\nWhy am I strapped in?\nWait, I just gotta hit this button, I'm\u2014\nI'm out"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Canadian Goose Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nI said yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah)\nWhat I say? (Lil Uzi), um, yeah, yeah, yeah\nThat-that-that-that-that be Maaly Raw (Yeah, uh, uh)\n\nWoke up in the morning, brush my teeth, smack my bitch ass (Damn)\nAll I do is think about the cash (What?)\nYeah, what? Getting all this cash (Yeah)\nYeah, what? I'm two hundred on the dash (Ooh)\nYeah, Lil Uzi, ooh, I got hella groupies, ooh (What?)\nSmokin' Backwoods, I don't fuck with doobies, ooh (Yeah, yeah)\nYeah, cuff the double plus 'cause I'm rockin' Ksubis, yeah (Ooh, what?)\nI fuck with my same hoes, I don't trust these newbies (Yeah)\n990, that's the New B's, yeah (Ooh, facts)\nSmoked the boy like he is a loosie, yeah (Fah, fah, fah, fah)\nOn the Xan', hear a noise, I load it up (I load it up)\n\nAll these diamonds, ain't nobody cold as us (Bling, blaow)\nLiterally, I'm cold as fuck (Cold as what?)\nAyy, I need Canadian Goose, yeah (Huh?)\nI need to get a Moncler, yeah (I do)\nDiamonds so cold, need some soup, ayy (What?)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nDriving around in a what? (Skrrt)\nSaint Laurents all on my boots (Yeah, what?)\nSaint Laurent all on my boo (Yeah)\nYeah, two thousand dollar a tooth (Ayy)\nLil Uzi, you is the truth (Ayy)\nLil Uzi, you is the truth, yeah (The truth)\nIf you think they took my chain, hey (Huh?)\nUm, boy, you a fool, ayy (You're dumb)\nI said, boy, you a fool, ayy\nI just caught me a Mewtwo, ayy (Huh?)\nYeah, I just caught me a Mewtwo, ayy (I choose you)\nJapanese girl stuck to me just like some glue, ayy (Yeah)\n\nAll these diamonds, ain't nobody cold as us (Bling, blaow)\nLiterally, I'm cold as fuck (Cold as what?)\nAyy, I need Canadian Goose, yeah (Huh?)\nI need to get a Moncler, yeah (I do)\nDiamonds so cold, need some soup, yeah (What?)\n\nDiamonds all on my teeth, so I barely can talk (I barely can talk)\nMoney all in my pockets, so I barely can walk\nYeah, (Ayy, ayy, ayy) diamonds, they shine in the dark (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nShe from LA, but she live in New York (What? Yeah)\nBut I ain't worried 'bout that (Worried 'bout that), ayy, yeah\nWorried 'bout bustin' them traps (Bustin' them traps), yeah, ayy\nLil Uzi, yeah, you know I be smokin' that pack (Yeah), yeah\nIf she gon' leave, you know that she comin' right back (She comin' right back), yeah\nIn a Cadillac, do a drive-by with a MAC(Drive-by with a MAC), yeah\nWhen I walk in, none of these hoes can relax, yeah\nWhen I walk in, know that I move with the racks (Ayy, yeah)\nWhen I walk in, know that I move with the racks, yeah\nCame right in, put my city on my back (Ayy, yeah)\nBut I'm still so relaxed on a Xanax, yeah\nI don't care what you did, don't love you less, yeah\nBut it's still Margiela all on my vest, yeah\nUh, water cross on my neck, yeah\nI just flew to the A, yeah\nI might go to MIA, yeah\nI ain't talkin' paper planes, yeah (What?)\nOn the block with all my chains, yeah (Yeah)\nGot the money and the fame (Yeah)\nYou a lame, that's a shame\nAll these diamonds, ain't nobody cold as us (Bling, blaow)\nLiterally, I'm cold as fuck (Cold as what? Fuck, yeah)\nAyy, I need Canadian Goose, yeah (Huh?)\nI need to get a Moncler, yeah (I do)\nDiamonds so cold, need some soup (Yeah)\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy\nYeah, yeah, yeah, ayy, ayy\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy (That be Maaly Raw)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, ayy, who?\nYeah, yeah, yeah, ayy, what?\nYeah, yeah, yeah, huh, what?\nUh, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"I can make her left-right when she shake her ass cheeks (Woah)\nYeah, she's so nasty\u2005(Yeah)\nYeah,\u2005she's so nasty\u2005(Oh)\nYeah, she's so nasty (Yeah)\nYeah, she's\u2005so nasty (Uh)\nYeah, she's so nasty (Yeah)\nYeah, she's so nasty (Yeah)\n(Ayy, Brandon, man, why you do that?)\nYeah, yeah, yeah\n\nYeah, Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke\nThis is not no Naruto, but I chop that like Sasuke\nShe keep tryna clean me up, but I just want that sloppy (It's lit)\nToppy, toppy (Beep), toppy (Beep, yeah), toppy (Beep)\nOn the opps' block, I'm the main fuckin' topic (Yeah)\nSay you fucked my bitch, man, my latest is your top bitch (Check it out, bro)\nThought it was a chopper, but it only was a Glock switch (Bow, bow)\nGlock switch, Glock switch (Brrt), Glock switch (Brrt), Glock switch (Brrt)\nI just ran from 12 in Audi R8, this ain't stock shit (Skrrt)\nI got so much blue, my pocket GS9, I'm on my hot shit (Yeah, woo)\nCancel all my shows so I just started on some stock shit (Money)\nWatch this, watch this (Watch)\nWatch this (Watch), watch this (Watch)\nBaby, you ain't never drink no Wock', so you cannot diss (Wock')\nI said I be in the trap, so I don't got to change my outfit (Trappin')\nMan, we outchea, do the hit, then go in the house, bitch (Why?)\nI can turn a thottie to a motherfuckin' house bitch (Thottie)\nSike, nah, I'm just playin', I just want to get the mouth, bitch (I'm just playin')\nCome on now, just tell me, girl, if you're in or out, bitch (I'm just sayin')\nYou know I don't give no fucks, cut her off 'cause her outfit (Yeah, yeah)\nI get my drip from that Chinatown (Woo)\nI pulled up baby to chopstick (Chinatown)\nYou know that I'm good anywhere that I go\nLike I pulled up with a compass (I'm good, babe)\nI should've never started sippin' that drank again (What?)\nThat shit got me nauseous (What?)\nPoppin' a Perky up right in my mouth\nI'm fuckin' that bitch up like moshpits (Yeah)\nAll blue money, blue money, Benjamin, more\nStackin' my pocket up, hundreds (Stackin' up money)\nGivenchy, Givenchy, Givenchy more\nGaultier on me, too baggy (Givenchy, Givenchy, let's go)\nGet the words out the way, I gotta go\nRunnin' the game like a track meet (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nGo on, lil' nigga, just get all your dough\nI gotta keep this shit classy (Uh, classy)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI can make her left-right when she shake her ass cheeks (Shake her ass)\nYeah, she's so nasty (Yeah)\nYeah, she's so nasty (She's so nasty, yeah)\nShe's so nasty (She's so nasty, yeah)\nShe's so nasty (She's so nasty, yeah)\nYeah, she's so nasty (Yeah)\nShe's so nasty (Yeah)\n\nYou ain't like me (Like)\nThen don't jack me, yeah (Then don't jack me)\nPull up, new coupe (Pull up, new coupe)\nFuck the back seat (Fuck the back seat)\nI'm way in the front (The front, front)\nYou don't pass me (In the back, me)\nMan, these niggas fake (Fake, these niggas fake)\nCall them Jassie (Call them Jassie)\nI don't envy (Envy)\nI just get cheese (I just get cheese)\nI don't envy (Envy, yeah)\nI just get cheese (I just get cheese, money)\nDon't do thirties (No thirties)\nAt least fifties (Don't do thirties, grrah)\nI got big cheese (I got big cheese)\nYeah, frog-eye Bentley (Frog-eye Bentley, brr)\n(Ayy, Brandon, man why you do that?)\nFrog-eye Bentley (Yeah)\nFrog-eye Bentley (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nFrog-eye Bentley (Yeah)\nFrog-eye Bentley (Yeah)\nBrandon finessed on the beat, but I just did a city (Yeah)\nI'm the only one in the army (The only one, yeah)\nI had to just get them niggas off me (Get 'em off, yeah)\nI ain't touch 'em, nigga, I used all feet (Yeah)\nShe just wanna suck it 'til her nose bleed (Suck it, suck it), yeah\nShe sat on my dick like she had no seat, yeah\nShe gon' suck it up like she got no teeth, yeah (Uh)\nI'ma fuck it all like she got no feet (Fuck it all, fuck it all)\nYeah, niggas hatin', but they know that I am OD, yeah\nLaughin' at them 'cause I'm richer than your OG (G, woo, yeah)\nShe gon' suck it all like she got no teeth (Suck it all, yeah)\nShe gon' suck it all like she got no teeth (Yeah, yeah)\nShe gon' suck it all like she got no teeth (Yeah)\nShe gon' suck it all like she got no teeth (Beep, beep, yeah)\nShe gon' suck it all like she got no teeth (Beep, beep, yeah)\nShe just wanna suck it 'til her nose bleed (Beep, yeah)\nShe gon' suck it all like she got no teeth (Yeah)\nShe just wanna suck it 'til her nose bleed (Brrat, yeah)\nYeah, Sasuke, Sasuke\nSasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke (Woah)\nThis is not no Naruto, but I chop that like Sasuke\nSasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke, Sasuke (Let's go, yeah)\nI can make her left-right when she shake her ass cheeks (Shake her ass)\nYeah, she's so nasty (Yeah)\nYeah, she's so nasty (She's so nasty, yeah)\nShe's so nasty (She's so nasty, yeah)\nShe's so nasty (She's so nasty, yeah)\nYeah, she's so nasty (Yeah)\nShe's so nasty (Yeah)"}
{"text":"Damn, DJ Plugg, you just kill\u2014\nBobby Kritical\n\nFor real, for real, for real, yeah\nSleep on 'em, that's Tempur-Pedic\nGet the green like it's kale, pockets, they fat just like Kenan\nTold her I love her, ain't mean it (What?), that's because her head the meanest (What?)\nYou heard that I am from Mars, I heard that you was from Venus (Okay)\nI met that bitch in a meeting (Ooh), I fucked that bitch from the meeting (Ooh)\nI been was planning to leave her (Ooh), so I just left it to Jesus\nYuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, Lil Vert, like Gerald (Damn)\nTold that girl to cheer up, fucking that girl 'til she tear up\nHeard you fucked her, she embarrassed\nHeard your whip Gary Barbara (Eww)\nWait, for real? For real? For real?\nDiamonds, they wet like a seal, diamonds wet like Navy Seal\nHeard you drink lean, crack the seal, everybody know, it ain't real\n\nYou know I kept it for real, walk around with it for real\nYou wanna bet if my money for real, for real? For real\nAll of my diamonds for real, different color like Pharrell's\nYeah, that's for real, for real, for real\nYou know I kept it for real, walk around with it for real\nYou wanna bet if my money for real, for real? For real\nAll of my diamonds for real, different color like Pharrell's\nYeah, that's for real, for real, for real\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nWon't say no names, but my niggas, they pulled up\nYou niggas talk too much, get your mouth sewed up (Yeah)\nLook at my chain, throwing salt 'cause it's snowing\nVivienne West but my fur lookin' polar\nMy Gosha from Dover, I drive in the Rover\nHomie don't know me, don't get in my moment\nAll that sneak dissing, don't think that I ain't noticed\nI lift my door and I forgot to close it\nBoy, better keep it sealed (Huh), fuck around, get killed (Yeah)\nFuck around, get drilled, cut your hands if you steal (Damn)\nWhip it up like a meal, I just made me a mil' (Yup)\nMoney jumping out my pocket, tucking bands in my belt\nStop calling my phone, leave me alone\nI'm on TV with the VVs so I 3-D'd my stones, yeah\nWe really don't get along, she anemic, I'm more chill\nHad to keep this shit for real, all the way to the beat build, yeah\n\nYou know I kept it for real, walk around with it for real\nYou wanna bet if my money for real, for real? For real\nAll of my diamonds for real, different color like Pharrell's\nYeah, that's for real, for real, for real\nYou know I kept it for real, walk around with it for real\nYou wanna bet if my money for real, for real? For real\nAll of my diamonds for real, different color like Pharrell's\nYeah, that's for real, for real, for real\nMy diamonds real\nFor real, for real, for real"}
{"text":"Uh-uh-uh-uh (Yeah, hello, be quiet)\nUh-uh-uh-uh (Oogie Mane, he killed it)\nUh-uh-uh-uh (Big bad bitches, big bad, Lil Uzi, I'm working on dying), yeah\n\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Yeah)\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Yeah)\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Uh)\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Uh)\nI ain't gotta flex no more, gave my watch to my best friend (Woah)\nCoppin' shit you can't afford, hundred K right on my necklace (Yeah)\nI be calling your bitch when I'm bored, do that in the past tense (Woah)\nI be drippin' and swaggin' of course (Woo), ayy\n\nI poured a two in the four (Dang), woah (Yeah), I'm right here\nI got opps from the 30 and I ain't scared (I ain't scared, yeah)\nPulled up in the 30, they some squares (Pulled up)\nGot a Glock with a thirty and I ain't scared (No, I'm not)\nI'm not flexin' on you, baby, it's right here (It's right here)\nGot a Glock and that .30 right under your chair (Under your chair)\nTwo hundred right up on my dash, my coupe right here (Skrrt)\nThrow it up, don't be scared (Uh)\nI was throwin' up and it was clear (What?)\nI took too much molly, I can't hear (What?)\nI fucked so many hoes I had to go and just switch states (Uh)\nRaf Simons on my jeans, but I'm still in my Rick stage (Yeah)\nI saw your Rollie, rose gold, but it's not no big face (Ayy)\nBitch, you know I know where the brick stay, yeah, I walk like a lick, ayy (Ayy)\nGot a big Glock on my hip, ayy, yeah, that's right where my stick stay (Yeah)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Right where my stick stay)\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Right where my stick stay)\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Yeah)\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Uh)\nI ain't gotta flex no more, gave my watch to my best friend (Yeah)\nCoppin' shit you can't afford, hundred K right on my necklace (Woah)\nI be calling your bitch when I'm bored, do that in the past tense (Uh)\nI be drippin' and swaggin' of course, ayy (Yeah)\n\nHow many hundred thousand you make this year? On my thirty-second\nI fucked that bitch on a Perc' for an hour, don't do thirty seconds (No)\nMan, I'm from the 1600, so I don't fuck with no 32nd (Woah)\nFrancisville baby, you know how we rocking, you know we gon' wreck shit (Wreck shit)\nRest in peace, Chico, for that boy, you know that I'm gonna keep flexin' (Let's go far)\nSometimes I still call his phone, sometimes I still go to text him (On God)\nHe was lackin' by the opps, I can't believe that they nixed him (Yeah)\nI was standin' by the opps, I had thirty in my weapon (Frrah)\nI was standin' by the opps, yeah, I was standin' by the opps (Yeah)\nI was standin' by the opps (Huh?), I was standin' by the opps (Yeah)\nI do the dash on the cops (Skrrt), digital dash on my drop (Huh?)\nI turned myself to a boss (Ayy), fuck you, nigga, and the law\nBaby girl head game strong, she suck my dick so long\nTell me what you want (Want), I can get you on, wait (No way)\nYou think he get money? Uh, look at his chain, no pointers (Okay)\nYeah, it's molly world, come join us (Join us, yeah), so much swag, can't afford it\nUh, uh, uh, uh (So much swag, can't afford it)\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Yeah)\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Okay)\nUh, uh, uh, uh (Okay)\nI ain't gotta flex no more, gave my watch to my best friend (Yeah)\nCoppin' shit you can't afford, hundred K right on my necklace (Uh)\nI be calling your bitch when I'm bored, do that in the past tense (Ayy)\nI be drippin' and swaggin' of course (Yeah)\n\nNo, he didn't (Uh-uh), yes, I did\nNo, he didn't (Uh-uh), yes, I did\nNo, he didn't (Uh-uh), yes, I did"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsHi Roller Lyrics\nThat be Maaly Raw (Yeah)\n\nWake up every day, know that I am blessed, yeah (Yeah)\nCountin' up my cake, gettin' all them checks, yeah (What?)\nPull up in a Wraith, I'm just tryna flex, yeah (Skrrt)\nWhy you wanna hate? (Why?) You do it the best (Yeah)\nI'm a high roller (What?), yeah\nYou know I'm a high roller (Yeah), yeah\nYou know I'm a high roller (Yeah), yeah\nYou know I'm a high roller (Huh?), yeah (Yeah)\n\nDrive it like I stole it (Skrrt, skrrt)\nDouble park it, bitch, you better not tow it (Don't touch my shit), yeah, yeah\nPlease show me, um, my opponent (Yeah)\nI said please show me, um, my opponent, yeah, uh\nI'm so young, I could fuck on your niece (Yeah)\nOoh, walk on your knees (Huh?)\nDrive that car and that bitch ain't no lease (Skrrt)\nOoh, I am a beast (Yeah)\nLook at my pockets, they so obese (Damn)\nYeah, they so obese (Hey)\nI eat up and I just had a feast (Yeah, vroom)\nYeah, Yeezy my feet (Woo)\nI put Louis V, Don C my wrists (Woo)\nFerragamo, that's all on my wrist (Woo)\nI know that girl can really suck dick (Yeah)\n'Cause she talk to me right with a lisp (Yeah)\nI pour lean up, right, that's so crisp (Yeah)\nYeah, um, she suck like a tick (Yeah)\nI got paper, nigga, and you know it (Huh)\nI swear to God, I really can't miss (What)\nI make hits, yeah, I really can't miss (What)\nEven if I miss, that shit a hit (Yeah)\nStack my money then watch as it flip (Yeah)\nSpend my money then do it again (Yeah)\nYeah, woo, I swear, that girl, she a ten (Huh)\nYeah, keep her around, I swear, that girl, she a gem\nYeah, before I was on, yeah, fucked on the twins (Yeah)\nYeah, before I was on, yeah, fucked on the twins\nYeah, Raf Simons, Rick Owens, little Phillip Lim (Damn)\nYeah, she said she ain't want me so I fucked her friend (Yeah)\nYeah, open up my mouth, white diamonds when I grin (Yeah)\n\nYeah, I am not from this Earth like Invader Zim (What)\nYeah, nowadays, I am on, everybody kin (Yeah)\nYeah, walk around with my Barbie like I am Ken (Yeah)\nYeah, every day adventure time, feelin' like I'm Finn (Where's Jake?)\nYeah, I might just put some diamonds all on my wrist (Wow)\nYeah, every bitch in my face, don't give 'em kiss (What?)\nYeah, boy, you hate 'cause you can't live your life like this (Yeah, yeah)\n\nWake up every day, know that I am blessed, yeah (Yeah)\nCountin' up my cake, gettin' all them checks, yeah (What?)\nPull up in a Wraith, I'm just tryna flex, yeah (Skrrt)\nWhy you wanna hate? (Why?) You do it the best (Yeah)\nI'm a high roller (What?), yeah\nYou know I'm a high roller (Yeah), yeah\nYou know I'm a high roller (Yeah), yeah\nYou know I'm a high roller (Huh), yeah (Yeah)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nYeah, woo, I swear that girl, she a ten (Huh?)\nYeah, keep her around (Ooh), I swear that girl she a gem (Yeah)\nYeah, before I was on, yeah, fucked on the twins (Yeah)\nYeah, before I was on, yeah, fucked on the twins\nYeah, Raf Simons, Rick Owens, little Phillip Lim (Damn)\nYeah, she said she ain't want me so I fucked her friend (Yeah)\nYeah, open up my mouth white diamonds when I grin (Yeah)\n\nYeah, Goyard bag cost more than your rent (Yeah)\nYeah, Goyard wallet cost more than your Gucci (What?)\nYeah, put my baby girl in Pharrell Moncler, she bougie (Yeah)\nYeah, boy, I'm cool, everybody know you a shoobie (Yeah)\nYeah, nowadays I can't even go to the movies (Yeah)\nYeah, moodswing, moodswing, girl, you gon' lose me (Hi Maaly)\nYeah, moodswing, moodswing, girl, you gon' lose me (Yeah)\nYeah, same thing over and over, girl, you can't fool me (Yeah)\nYeah, same thing over and over, girl, you can't fool me (Yeah)\n\nWake up every day, know that I am blessed, yeah (Yeah)\nCountin' up my cake, gettin' all them checks, yeah (What?)\nPull up in a Wraith, I'm just tryna flex, yeah (Skrrt)\nWhy you wanna hate? (Why?) You do it the best (Yeah)\nI'm a high roller (What), yeah\nYou know I'm a high roller (Yeah), yeah\nYou know I'm a high roller (Yeah), yeah\nYou know I'm a high roller (Huh), yeah (Yeah)"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsSeven Million Lyrics\n(Nard & B, Nard & B)\nYou see I'm drippin' in baguettes, hey\nYou see I'm drippin' VVS, hey\nYou see me drippin' doin' the flex, hey\n(T-T-T-T-Trenchwerk)\n\nYou see me flexin' on your bitch, don't forget about me\nYou see I'm drippin' on your bitch, you can't forget about me\nYou see I'm drippin' VVS, hey\nYou see I'm flexin' on your bitch, hey\nYou see I'm flexin' VVSs, don't forget about me\nYou see I'm drippin' VVS, they can't forget about me\nYou know I'm flexin' on a bitch, hey\nYou know I'm flexin' on your clique\nSay\n\nGirl, you're cool but you know, I could find a better you\nFeelings ain't changed but you might need somethin' new\nYeah, might need a better dude\nLouis Vuitton, the Gabbana, Prada, the better shoes (Better shoes)\n\nPut my pedal to the floor (Ayy, ayy, ayy, yeah)\nUh, yeah, make it roar (Roar, what?)\nPull up, skrrt, 'Ventador (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nJump out, uh, lift my door (Yeah)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nAnd that bitch kinda hard to handle (Yeah)\nChop it, flip it, move it out the bando (Chop it, chop it)\nPull up in a Bentley, foreign cars are random (Yeah)\nMatter of fact, I probably want the Phantom, yeah\n\nYou see me flexin' on your bitch, don't forget about me\nYou see I'm drippin' on your bitch, you can't forget about me\nYou see I'm drippin' VVS, hey\nYou see I'm flexin' on your bitch, hey\nYou see I'm flexin' VVSs, don't forget about me\nYou see I'm drippin' VVS, they can't forget about me\nYou know I'm flexin' on a bitch, hey\nYou know I'm flexin' on your clique\nSay\n\nPut my pedal to the floor (Ayy, ayy, ayy, yeah)\nUh, yeah, make it roar (Roar, what?)\nPull up, skrrt, 'Ventador (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nJump out, uh, lift my door\n\nKnow I'm flexin' on your clique\nBlink of a eye, know that I would take your bitch (Take your bitch)\nI cannot lie, I cannot live life like this\n'Cause if I lie then I know it is not real, yeah\nYou can't forget (No)\nBaby, please, don't forget about me (Ayy)\nYeah, she saw my Rollie won't forget about me (Forget about me)\nAddicted to my flexin', now can't live without me (Live without me)\nYou see me flexin' on your bitch, don't forget about me\nYou see I'm drippin' on your bitch, you can't forget about me\nYou see I'm drippin' VVS, hey\nYou see I'm flexin' on your bitch, hey\nYou see I'm flexin' VVSs, don't forget about me\nYou see I'm drippin' VVS, they can't forget about me\nYou know I'm flexin' on a bitch, hey\nYou know I'm flexin' on your clique\nSay\n\nCannon\nYou see I'm drippin' VVS, hey\nYou see I'm drippin' them baguettes, hey\nYou see I'm drippin' VVS, hey\nYou see I'm drippin' them baguettes, hey"}
{"text":"You keep calling me like I really wanna be messin' with, like\u2014 (Sorry if my\u2005words\u2005messed up your\u2005head)\nI done told you I was\u2005sorry, I don't always mean it, but I said it\u205fjust\u205fto\u205fshut you up\u205f'cause you trippin'\nDamn\u205f(You think that you're better off dead), Lil Uzi Vert, yeah\n\nAnd I'm sorry for everything I ever said, yeah\nI'm sorry if you were misled, yeah\nAnd I'm sorry if my words messed with your head, yeah\nYou think that you're better off dead, yeah (Woah)\nShe caught me acting all sad, damn\nEverything bad, damn\nThat's why you can't fuck with fans, damn\nThis not in the plan, damn\nI am so high I can't land now\nSo I'm basically sent by the man now\nI'ma just do what I can now\nFrom my existence, this girl is banned now\n\nTold that girl I won't be in no jam now\nAin't no way you can, um, have my baby (Have my baby)\nTold that girl that she acting too crazy (What?)\nShe want me 'cause I'm driving Mercedes (Skrrt)\nWell, it's Maybach, so this is too different (Vyoom)\nShe like the way that my rims be sitting (Yeah)\nShe like the way my bass, it be hitting (Let's go)\nShe looked at me, her lips she keep licking\nI had to ice out my Rollie (Woah)\nI drive my whip like it's stolen (Like it's stolen)\nShe thought I was gon' say \"Get in\"\nBut everything in life is written (Woah)\nMy Balmain jeans barely fitting\nShe do anything just to fit in\nOh my gosh, she start to lickin'\nI like to play with her kitten\nMy boys just came home\nIt is no reason to risk him\nI'm the one that get the stick in (Bow)\nSay my diamonds too big can't get wrist in (Yeah)\nYou don't hear me, better listen\nStand on my money, I'm tall as Pippen (Yeah)\nI'm sorry I'm tryna pitch in (What?)\nI'm so sorry that I'm tryna fix him (What?)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nAnd I'm sorry for everything I ever said, yeah\nI'm sorry if you were misled, yeah\nAnd I'm sorry if my words messed with your head, yeah\nYou think that you're better off dead, yeah (Woah)\nShe caught me acting all sad, damn\nEverything bad, damn\nThat's why you can't fuck with fans, damn\nThis not in the plan, damn\nI am so high I can't land now\nSo I'm basically sent by the man now (Let's go)\nI'ma just do what I can now\nFrom my existence, this girl is banned now (Let's go)\n\nYou is too bad for my brain, you is too bad for my memory (Bad for my memory)\nBut I love when you give brain, I swear that's my only memory (My only memory)\nEverything that you say I did, but I swear not a sin in me (It's not a sin in me)\nEvery time that you went out, you always linked up with a frenemy (Wait, what?)\nGirl, I saw you with the opps, you is not family, no kin to me (Damn)\nI swear that shit, it need to stop, I am too numb, it ain't killing me (No)\nMatter of fact, you can do what you want (You want)\nOkay, shut up, are you done? (Be quiet)\nI'm not falling for that, I'm not dumb (No)\nYou the one, I'm not the one that's sprung (Yeah)\nYou the one, I'm not the one that's up (Yeah)\nDrowning all my sorrows up in rum (Rum)\nI'ma count this money with my thumb (Thumb)\nI can make that girl cry 'til she cum (Cum)\nI remember she said I was nothing, yeah\nNow she's bussing, yeah (Yeah)\nMy life faulty, yeah\nI'm unlucky, yeah\nAnd I'm sorry for everything I ever said, yeah\nI'm sorry if you were misled, yeah\nAnd I'm sorry if my words messed with your head, yeah\nYou think that you're better off dead, yeah (Woah)\nShe caught me acting all sad, damn\nEverything bad, damn\nThat's why you can't fuck with fans, damn (Woah)\nThis not in the plan, damn\nI am so high I can't land now\nSo I'm basically sent by the man now (By the man)\nI'ma just do what I can now\nFrom my existence, this girl is banned now\n\nShe is banned, damn\nShe is banned, damn\nShe is banned, damn\nDon't call my phone at all\nNo, for real, for real\nDon't call me no more, like for real"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1ol\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Feelings Mutual Lyrics\nAnd I want you to know something very important before I even start this song\nSomething very important before I even start this song\nI can't feel no more (Feel), no\nI can't feel no more (Feel)\nI told myself that I wasn't gonna pop no pills no more, no\nI can't feel no more (Feel)\nI can't\n\nI can't feel, no\nI can't feel, I can't feel (Yeah)\nI can't feel, my body's numb\nMaybe 'cause I am so hurt (Yeah)\nI feel the pain in the rain (Huh?)\nTell me, what's my time and worth? (Worth)\nNot my first merry-go-round\nNot my first merry-go-round, yeah (Chee)\nLiving life just with a curse (Huh?), before I go in a hearse (Chee)\nTold you that I love you first\nTold you that I love you first, ooh\nNowadays I gotta swerve you (Yeah)\nI took you out of those fur boots\n\nBack then I saw no one but you\nGave you my racks and I splurged too\nCalling my phone and I curved you (Yeah)\nHope this song really don't hurt you\nAP froze (What?), time so slow, yeah, hit reverse (Yeah)\nMargiela all on my coat (Coat)\nGot buttons, but leaving it open (Open)\nSo they can all see my shirt (My shirt), Rick Owens all on my shirt (My shirt)\nI can't believe I made it out the dirt\nThat was back then when my pockets was hurtin'\nPockets so stuffed that them shits still be hurtin'\nWalk with the Goyard, they say its a purse\nLouis scarf, on me it look like a curtain (Yeah)\nMy main girl a doctor, my side girl a nurse\nThey keep on talkin' (Why?)\nThey keep on talkin' (They hatin')\nAll these girls up in the club, why you lookin' at Vert? (Why?)\nI am not worried because when my niggas come, they gonna need a white curtain (Yeah)\nYour boyfriend hate my Bad and Boujee verse\nShe gave me head so I called her a nerd\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nI can't feel, no\nI can't feel, I can't feel (Yeah)\nI can't feel, my body's numb\nMaybe 'cause I am so hurt (Yeah)\nI feel the pain in the rain (Huh?)\nTell me, what's my time and worth? (Worth)\nNot my first merry-go-round\nNot my first merry-go-round, yeah (Chee)\nLiving life just with a curse (Huh?), before I go in a hearse (Chee)\nTold you that I love you first\nTold you that I love you first, ooh\nNowadays I gotta swerve you (Yeah)\nI took you out of those fur boots\n\nI'm doing fine now (Yeah), I'm doing fine now\nNo, I do not need nobody now (No)\nNo, I do not need nobody now (No)\nNo, girl, don't make a sound\nYou don't wan' argue 'bout body count (No)\nYou don't wan' talk about body count\nYou don't wan' talk about body count\nWhat is all this fighting all about?\nIt's still bodies that I'm finding out (Yeah)\nIt's still bodies I don't know about (Huh?)\nSo many bodies like a murder trial\nUsed to say that it's word of mouth\nBut I love you so you're bondin' out\nBut I love you so you're bondin' out (Yeah)\nGrandma and Mom love you now\nI'm so high, I ain't comin' down (Oh, talk to 'em)\nI'm so high, I ain't comin' down\nI'm so high, I ain't comin' down\nHate me then, but they love me now (Yeah, talk to 'em)\nLove me then, but they hate me now\nIt don't matter, got the paper now\nI'm so numb\nI can't feel, no\nI can't feel, I can't feel (Yeah)\nI can't feel, my body's numb\nMaybe 'cause I am so hurt (Yeah)\nI feel the pain in the rain (Huh?)\nTell me, what's my time and worth? (Worth)\nNot my first merry-go-round\nNot my first merry-go-round, yeah (Chee)\nLiving life just with a curse (Huh?), before I go in a hearse (Chee)\nTold you that I love you first\nTold you that I love you first, ooh\nNowadays I gotta swerve you (Yeah)\nI took you out of those fur boots\n\nI'm doing fine now (Yeah), I'm doing fine now\nNo, I do not need nobody now (No)\nNo, I do not need nobody now (No)\nI'm doing fine now (Yeah), I'm doing fine now\nNo, I do not need nobody now (No)\nNo, I do not need nobody now (No)\nI can't feel"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsSuper Saiyan Lyrics\nHave you ever made a million dollars with your talent? (Have you?)\nHave you ever fucked a bitch, ass so fat, lose your balance? (Have you?)\nAll these bitches washed up, all they pussy got that mileage (Ew)\nI been getting money, on the Lambo, put that mileage (Damn)\nMy jewelry on gleam, yeah\nYour bitch on my team, yeah (Ooh)\nPut my dick all in her, yeah (Ooh)\nYour bitch gonna cream, yeah (Ooh)\nYour girl give me head, yeah\nKinda like oil sheen, yeah\nThis bitch, she is upset\nSaid my dick game mean, yeah (What?)\n\nDon't try me, yeah\nClip-on limousine, yeah\nDrinkin' lean, yeah\nPromethazine, yeah\nIn a dream, yeah\nThinkin' 'bout codeine, yeah (Codeine?)\nChop it like I'm in the matrix\nAyy, Balmain pocket, extra cake in (Yeah)\n\nAyy, that bitch, she said that she waitin' (Yeah)\nAyy, Lil Uzi go Super Saiyan\nAyy, that bitch, she told me she taken (Yeah)\nAyy, I still fuck her and she take it (What?)\nAyy, most of these bitches be triflin' (Yeah)\nAyy, none of these bitches I'm wifin' (No)\nAyy, my main bitch, I swear she dykin' (No)\nAyy, most of these bitches, one night 'em (Skrt)\nAyy, hit that bitch like I'm a Viking (Ooh)\nAyy, drinking that purple like Viking (Ooh)\nAyy, one, two, three, four, five, I pint it (Ooh)\nAyy, fuck with that chasers, dirt bike it (Ooh)\nAyy, readin' her mind like I'm psychic (Ooh)\nAyy, I am a Leo like lion (Ooh)\nAyy, better than me then he lyin' (Yeah)\nAyy, money older than Joe Biden (Ooh)\nAyy, swervin' around in a Rover (Damn)\nAyy, that bitch, it came with a chauffeur (Damn)\nAyy, my .45 don't got no holster (Damn)\nAyy, don't got that gun then I poke you (Yeah)\nAyy, my chain so tight like a choker (What?)\nAyy, dick in her throat, now it choke her (Damn)\nAyy, I am so crazy like Joker (What?)\nAyy, my brother whippin' that soda (What?)\nAyy, tell that bitch I got that boat (I do)\nAyy, she say that pussy like motor (Damn)\nAyy, I might give that titty motor (Motorboat)\nAyy, told that bitch \"Drink a mimosa\" (Yeah)\nAyy, I do not feel like Barbosa (Woo)\nAyy, I ball like I am Barbosa (Swish)\nAyy, I feel like I'm Danny Glover (Yeah)\nAyy, no, I really do not love her (No I don't, no I don't)\nAyy, them niggas over there suckers (Suckers)\nAyy, most of them niggas be busters (They busters)\nAyy, my Glock 10, it'll just bust ya (Yeah)\nAyy, she treat my dick like a sucker (Damn)\nAyy, I might just knuck if you buck ya (Buck)\nAyy, if you survive then you lucky (You lucky)\nAyy, pockets, they gettin' so pudgy\nAyy, everything about the money (Yeah)\nAyy\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nDon't try me, yeah\nClip-on limousine, yeah\nDrinkin' lean, yeah\nPromethazine, yeah\nIn a dream, yeah\nThinkin' 'bout codeine, yeah\nChop it like I'm in the matrix\nAyy, Balmain pocket, extra cake in\nAyy"}
{"text":"(Oogie Mane, he killed it)\n(I'm working on dying)\n\nBro got the 9, I got the 4 tucked (4 tucked)\nNiggas wanna keep talkin', they gotta show us (Gotta show us)\nPull up in a Rolls same color as pour-up (Woah)\nTold her bend right over, do the toe-touch (Lean)\n\nAventador, my doors, I lift 'em like, \"Sure 'nough\" (Skrrt)\nI pull up in a Lam', this not a Lotus (Vroom)\nI see my opps again, I gotta load up\nI got a demon in my engine, I did a donut (Skrrt)\n\nOh no, no, no, not you again\nBaby girl, yeah, you a ten\nOn the real, yeah, you a ten\nBut you cannot pay your rent\nGot her rubbin' on my skin\nSing to her like Boyz II Men\nTired of her, give her to my friend\nThen I proceed to her twin (Okay)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nThis a UZI, not a MAC, I got no pin\nI bet you couldn't tell the difference and that girl a gem (A gem)\nGucci pants come out the Gucci store, come with a hem (Hem)\nMy pants, they so tight, don't know if they for her or him (Him)\nNiggas want my style, I got some swag that you can lend (Lend)\nBalenciaga with the Prada, still rock Phillip Lim (Uh)\nLouis bandana tied around my chin (Damn)\nGosha socks, them bitches pulled up all the way to my shin (Damn)\nYes, I'm off a 30, psych, nah, I just took three 10s\nWe rock spinners, we rock spinners on my rims (Uh)\nYou sucker niggas do anything cause y'all wanna win (Uh)\nOh, no, no, I won't fold, I won't bend\n\nAventador, my doors, I lift 'em like, \"Sure 'nough\" (Skrrt)\nI pull up in a Lam', this not a Lotus (Vroom)\nI see my opps again, I gotta load up\nI got a demon in my engine, I did a donut (Skrrt)\n\nOh no, no, no, not you again\nBaby girl, yeah, you a ten\nOn the real, yeah, you a ten\nBut you cannot pay your rent\nGot her rubbin' on my skin\nSing to her like Boyz II Men\nTired of her, give her to my friend\nThen I proceed to her twin (Lil Uzi)\nNo, I don't drink lean, but pour that four up (Four up)\nI get so high that I might throw up (Ayy, ayy)\nThey keep judging me, but I'm like so what? (What, so?)\nYeah, let's get geeked, girl, let's load up (Ayy)\nI bet these niggas never thought I'd blow up (Ayy)\nYeah, so much check but I get more bucks (Woah)\nThat nigga mad because his bitch still chose us (Chose us)\nI got her tweakin' on the six, she goin' nuts (Go dumb, go dumb, go dumb)\nYeah, she goin' nuts (Go dumb, go dumb, go dumb, go dumb, go dumb)\nShe said \"How the diamonds on your neck so polar?\" (Ooh, ooh)\nBaby, my ice on my neck can't get no colder (Burr)\nAnd I'm from outer space, top of my Wraith so solar (Burr)\n\nAventador, my doors, I lift 'em like, \"Sure 'nough\" (What?)\nI pull up in a Lam', this not a Lotus\nI see my opps again, I gotta load up (Fire)\nI got a demon in my engine, I did a donut (Skrrt)\n\nOh no, no, no, not you again\nBaby girl, yeah, you a ten\nOn the real, yeah, you a ten\nBut you cannot pay your rent (No, no)\nGot her rubbin' on my skin\nSing to her like Boyz II Men (Yeah, yeah)\nTired of her, give her to my friend\nThen I proceed to her twin"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsHow to Talk Lyrics\nAnd you didn't come here for me, let's talk about it\n'Cause if you would have came here for me, that would've been planned\nYou would've put me on\nYou ain't say, \"Oh I'm coming this day, I'm coming that\"\nYou sit here and you tell me one thing and you always do another\n'Cause, cause let me know, let me... let me tell you why\n'Cause you're not a man of your word\nThat's - that's the reason why. So let's talk about it\nOh, you come here for nothing\nNo, you came here for what?\nWhatever you came here for\nSo, whatever\nYou have no type of communication at all\nSo get up out my comments\n\nTalk to me nice (Skrrt)\nTalk to me nice (Whatever)\nTalk to me nice (Mhm)\nKnow I'm gon' ball yeah\nNo way I could fall, yeah (What?)\nThey predicted next fall yeah (What?)\nLook at them, like, \"Aw yeah\" (No way)\nTalk to me (Whoo)\nTalk to me nice (Lil Uzi)\nTalk to me nice (Uh-huh)\nTalk to me nice (Come on)\nOr don't talk to me at all, yeah (Nope)\nOn the way, one call yeah (Yeah)\nCount it up and it's all there (Yeah)\nWater hittin' look like small tears (Yeah)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nTold her talk to me nice (Talk to me)\nTalk to me nice (Woo)\nI say it once (Mm), I won't say it twice (Twice)\nOkay might say it twice (Ooh), because I'm kinda high (Ooh)\nEven though I'm so evil (Uh), I still look at the sky\nAnd I ask why\nWhy I treat her like my dog, yeah\nWe supposed to be all here (Aw, yuh)\nShe got different color long hair\nPull up coupe, two small chairs (Skrrt)\nTook that girl right in the club (Yuh)\nFelt the booty and it's all there (There)\nSo smooth so its all nair\nHeard she talk to a ball player (What?), It's cool\nHeard she talk to a ball player, but you know I keep it all player\nAnd I heard he ain't a star player\nI'm not worried, I'm a heartbreaker\nI'm in outer space, on Mars faded\nI'm not tryna make it R-rated (Yuh)\nBut my niggas look like Darth Vader (Yuh, yuh, yuh, ayy)\nOhh, ohh\n\nTalk to me nice (Skrrt)\nTalk to me nice (Whatever)\nTalk to me nice (Mhm)\nKnow I'm gon' ball yeah\nNo way I could fall, yeah (What?)\nThey predicted next fall yeah (What?)\nLook at them, like, \"Aw yeah\" (No way)\nTalk to me (Woo)\nTalk to me nice (Lil Uzi)\nTalk to me nice (Uh-huh)\nTalk to me nice (Come on)\nOr don't talk to me at all, yeah (Nope)\nOn the way, one call yeah (Yeah)\nCount it up and it's all there (Yeah)\nWater hittin' look like small tears (Yeah)\nI was in a dream (Whoo)\nYeah I used to dream (Yup)\nI was all a dream (Duh)\nNow I'm in reality, don't need those\nFantasy, what I see, sleep when I'm woke (Yuh)\nReal ones can't die (Lil Uzi), only multiply (Yup)\nI know something it ain't right (Ooh), how you put me to the side? (Gee)\nWhen I called your phone, yeah, you said I was lyin' (Lyin'?)\nHow am I lyin'? (What) I just pulled up to my show (Yuh)\nI'm still on the grind\nHeard you got a chauffeur (Heard dat, woo)\n(Lil' Uzi, Lil' Uzi, Lil' Uzi, Lil' Uzi)\nTalk to me nice, (I heard that) talk to me nice (Ya heard)\nHeard she a Doll when she mad, why I flood her all in ice (Skrrt)\nRide it like a bike, bust me like a Sprite\nLoad up the jet for New York tonight\n\nTalk to me nice (Skrrt)\nTalk to me nice (Whatever)\nTalk to me nice (Mhm)\nKnow I'm gon' ball yeah\nNo way I could fall, yeah (What?)\nThey predicted next fall yeah (What?)\nLook at them, like, \"Aw yeah\" (No way)\nTalk to me (Whoo)\nTalk to me nice (Lil Uzi)\nTalk to me nice (Uh-huh)\nTalk to me nice (Come on)\nOr don't talk to me at all, yeah (Nope)\nOn the way, one call yeah (Yeah)\nCount it up and it's all there (Yeah)\nWater hittin' look like small tears (Yeah)\nTalk to me"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsVenetia Lyrics\nLil Uzi Vert, to be exact (Oh)\nAnd I'm not from earth, I'm from outer space\u2005(Woah,\u2005let's go)\nAnd I'm\u2005different (Uh), I'm wavy\nI'm somewhere I'm\u2005not even 'posed to be ('Posed to be), yeah\nI remember she ain't even notice me (Notice me), yeah\nWhy I'm trippin'? She ain't even old as me (Huh)\nHer own man not even cold as me (Let's go)\nEvery time I have a show, gotta sell it out 'fore I go to sleep (Woah)\n\nWe got some new bands, we got some new bands, yeah, yeah\nWe got some new bands, we got some new bands, yeah, yeah (Let's go, let's go)\nTreatin' these Diors like it's just old Vans, yeah, yeah\nI fuck that lil' bitch, told her just bring her friend, yeah, yeah (Woah)\nIt's not for me, no, it's just for my mans, yeah, yeah\nAnd I'ma just play with her pussy, yeah, as fast as I can, yeah, yeah (As fast as I can)\nI'ma just count these racks, yeah, as fast as I can, yeah, yeah (As fast as I can)\nI ain't never trust no bitch, I ain't never trust no man, yeah, yeah (Huh?)\n\nPull up in a brand new Porsche, followed by a matte black van, yeah, yeah\nNever sit by the door, my boy got a matte black thang, bang, bang (Brrr)\nAll orange on me, baby, orange, yeah, look like Tang, yeah, yeah\nI done did everything, ain't do no crack cocaine, yeah, yeah\nI ain't never do no dope and your bitch wanna choke, yeah, yeah\nAnd she will suck on this dick if she old enough to vote, yeah, yeah\nI took that girl M-I-A, now she wanna drive the boat, yeah, yeah (Let's go)\nNow she want my money, I said \"Not at all, no, no\" (No way)\nSpanish girl, she always tryna get my pesos (Woo)\nYou can't get no money, you don't get no dough-dough (Dough)\nShe want all that verde, but pockets azul (Azul, azul)\nYeah, she likes my wordplay, no way they stoppin' you (Let's go, let's go)\nSee Lil Uzi Vert LiveGet tickets as low as $26You might also like\nWe got some new bands, we got some new bands, yeah, yeah\nWe got some new bands, we got some new bands, yeah, yeah\nTreatin' these Diors like it's just old Vans, yeah, yeah\nI fuck that lil' bitch, told her just bring her friend, yeah, yeah (Just bring her friend, let's go)\nIt's not for me, no, it's just for my mans, yeah, yeah (It's just for my mans, woah)\nAnd I'ma just play with her pussy, yeah, as fast as I can, yeah, yeah (As fast as I can)\nI'ma just count these racks, yeah, as fast as I can, yeah, yeah (As fast as I can)\nI ain't never trust no bitch, I ain't never trust no man, yeah, yeah (Never trust no man)\n\nNow, why the fuck would I give up on my gang if my gang never gave up on me? (Never)\nI never, ever tell on my niggas, I don't care if they give me third degree (Fuck 'em)\nI'm always gon' be a 1600 nigga with money connecting the streets (Yeah, yeah)\nThese niggas mad because they is not me, and my niggas, they all gonna eat, come on (Woah)\nWait, I can make a crazy girl go on a date\nI can make a gay girl turn to a straight\nTake off them jeans and put on her lace (Lace)\nFuck all of that, take your bitch, then I grab on her waist\nTalk to the reverend, but I don't know Ma$e\nI can not the see the haters, I got maced\nOh my God, oh my God, I'm in a Wraith (Yeah)\nShe pull up on me, then your bitch gettin' slayed\nLouis V everything, I got the taste\nShe all on my face, so I know she wanna taste\nSay I mumble too much, what the fuck is you saying?\nYour girl in my bed, and you know she be layin'\nShe tell me her problems, act like I'm relatin' (One, two, three, let's go)\nWe got some new bands, we got some new bands, yeah, yeah\nWe got some new bands, we got some new bands, yeah, yeah\nTreatin' these Diors like it's just old Vans, yeah, yeah\nI fuck that lil' bitch, told her just bring her friend, yeah, yeah (Let's go, let's go)\nIt's not for me, no, it's just for my mans, yeah, yeah (Just for my mans)\nAnd I'ma just play with her pussy, yeah, as fast as I can, yeah, yeah (As fast as I can)\nI'ma just count these racks, yeah, as fast as I can, yeah, yeah (As fast as I can)\nI ain't never trust no bitch, I ain't never trust no man, yeah, yeah (What?)"}
{"text":"(Ugh) Ha-ha-ha, I'm serious, nigga\nOne of y'all niggas got some bad motherfuckin' breath\n(Oh, man) Ayy, baby, ayy, baby, (shit) ayy, baby\nGet some bubblegum in this motherfucker or somethin'\nAyy, nigga, get somethin' to eat, dog\nAyy, nigga, study long, study wrong, nigga\n\nWith so much drama in the L-B-C\nIt's kind of hard bein' Snoop D-O-double-G\nBut I, somehow, some way\nKeep comin' up with funky-ass shit, like, every single day\nMay I kick a little something for the G's\nAnd make a few ends as I breeze through?\nTwo in the mornin' and the party's still jumpin'\n'Cause my mama ain't home\nI got bitches in the livin' room gettin' it on\nAnd they ain't leavin' till six in the mornin'\nSo what you wanna do?\nShit, I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too\nSo turn off the lights and close the doors\nBut (But what?) we don't love them hoes, yeah\nSo we gon' smoke an ounce to this\nG's up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this\nYou might also like\nRollin' down the street, smokin' indo\nSippin' on gin and juice, laid back\nWith my mind on my money\nAnd my money on my mind\nRollin' down the street, smokin' indo\nSippin' on gin and juice, laid back\nWith my mind on my money\nAnd my money on my mind\n\nNow that I got me some Seagram's gin\nEverybody got they cups, but they ain't chipped in\nNow this type of shit happens all the time\nYou got to get yours but, fool, I gotta get mine\nEverything is fine when you listening to the D-O-G\nI got the cultivating music that be captivating he\nWho listens to the words that I speak\nAs I take me a drink to the middle of the street\nAnd get to mackin' to this bitch named Sadie (Sadie?)\nShe used to be the homeboy's lady (Oh, that bitch)\n80 degrees, when I tell that bitch please\nRaise up off these N-U-T's, 'cause you gets none of these\nAt ease, as I mob with the Dogg Pound\nFeel the breeze biatch, I'm just\u2026\nRollin' down the street, smokin' indo\nSippin' on gin and juice, laid back\nWith my mind on my money\nAnd my money on my mind\nRollin' down the street, smokin' indo\nSippin' on gin and juice, laid back\nWith my mind on my money\nAnd my money on my mind\n\nLater on that day, my homie Dr. Dre\nCame through with a gang of Tanqueray\nAnd a fat ass J of some bubonic chronic\nThat made me choke; shit, this ain't no joke\nI had to back up off of it and sit my cup down\nTanqueray and chronic, yeah, I'm fucked up now\nBut it ain't no stoppin', I'm still poppin'\nDre got some bitches from the city of Compton\nTo serve me; not with a cherry on top\n'Cause when I bust my nut I'm raising up off the cot\nDon't get upset, girl, that's just how it goes\nI don't love you, hoes, I'm out the door, and I'll be...\n\nRollin' down the street, smokin' indo\nSippin' on gin and juice, laid back\nWith my mind on my money\nAnd my money on my mind\nRollin' down the street, smokin' indo\nSippin' on gin and juice, laid back\nWith my mind on my money\nAnd my money on my mind\nRollin' down the street, smokin' indo\nSippin' on gin and juice, biatch\nWith my mind on my money\nAnd my money on my mind\nRollin' down the street, smokin' indo\nSippin' on gin and juice, biatch\nWith my mind on my money\nAnd my money on my mind"}
{"text":"Snoop\nSnoop\n\nWhen the pimp's in the crib, ma\n(Drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot)\nWhen the pigs try to get at you\n(Park it like it's hot, park it like it's hot, park it like it's hot)\nAnd if a nigga get a attitude\n(Pop it like it's hot, pop it like it's hot, pop it like it's hot)\nI got the Rollie on my arm and I'm pourin' Chandon\nAnd I roll the best weed, 'cause I got it goin' on\n\nI'm a nice dude (Uh), with some nice dreams (Yep)\nSee these ice cubes? (Uh) See these Ice Creams?\nEligible bachelor, million dollar boat\nThat's whiter than what's spillin' down your throat\nThe Phantom, exterior like fish eggs\nThe interior like suicide-wrist red\nI can exercise you, this can be your Phys. Ed\nCheat on your man, ma, that's how you get ahizzead\nKiller with the beat, I know killers in the street\nWith the steel that'll make you feel like Chinchilla in the heat\nSo don't try to run up on my ear talkin' all that raspy shit, tryna ask me shit\nWhen my niggas fill your vest, they ain't gon' pass me shit\n*Ticks* You should think about it, take a second *Ding*\nMatter-fact, you should take four, B\nAnd think before you fuck with-a lil' Skateboard P\nYou might also like\nWhen the pimp's in the crib, ma\n(Drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot)\nWhen the pigs try to get at you\n(Park it like it's hot, park it like it's hot, park it like it's hot)\nAnd if a nigga get a attitude\n(Pop it like it's hot, pop it like it's hot, pop it like it's hot)\nI got the Rollie on my arm and I'm pourin' Chandon\nAnd I roll the best weed, 'cause I got it goin' on\n\nI'm a gangsta, but ch'all knew that\nDa Big Boss Dogg, yeah, I had to do that\nI keep a blue flag hangin' out my backside\nBut only on the left side, yeah, that's the Crip side\nAin't no other way to play the game the way I play\nI cut so much you thought I was a DJ *vinyl rewind*\n(Two, re-pe-re-pe one, yep, three)\nS-N double O-P, D-O double G\nI can't fake it, just break it, and when I take it\nSee, I specialize in makin' all the girls get naked\nSo bring your friends, all of y'all come inside\nWe got a world premiere right here, now get live (So don't)\nSo don't change the dizzle, turn it up a little\nI got a livin' room full of fine dime brizzles\nWaitin' on the Pizzle, the Dizzle and the Chizzle\nG's to the bizzack, now, ladies, here we gizzo\nWhen the pimp's in the crib, ma\n(Drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot)\nWhen the pigs try to get at you\n(Park it like it's hot, park it like it's hot, park it like it's hot)\nAnd if a nigga get a attitude\n(Pop it like it's hot, pop it like it's hot, pop it like it's hot)\nI got the Rollie on my arm and I'm pourin' Chandon\nAnd I roll the best weed, 'cause I got it goin' on\n\nI'm a bad boy with a lotta hoes\nDrive my own cars and wear my own clothes\nI hang out tough, I'm a real boss\nBig Snoop Dogg, yeah, he's so sharp\nOn the TV screen and in the magazines\nIf you play me close, you're on a red beam\nOh, you got a gun, so you wanna pop back?\nAK-47 now, nigga, stop that\nCement shoes, now I'm on the move\nYour family's cryin', now you on the news\nThey can't find you and now they miss you\nMust I remind you, I'm only here to twist you\nPistol-whip you, dip you, then flip you\nThen dance to this mothafuckin' music we Crip to\nSubscribe, nigga, get your issue\nBaby, come close, let me see how you get loose\nWhen the pimp's in the crib, ma\n(Drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot, drop it like it's hot)\nWhen the pigs try to get at you\n(Park it like it's hot, park it like it's hot, park it like it's hot)\nAnd if a nigga get a attitude\n(Pop it like it's hot, pop it like it's hot, pop it like it's hot)\nI got the Rollie on my arm and I'm pourin' Chandon\nAnd I roll the best weed, 'cause I got it goin' on\n\nSnoop\nSnoop"}
{"text":"You're back now at the jack-off hour\nThis is DJ EZ Dicc\nOn WBALLZ\nRight now, something new by Snoop Doggy Dogg\nAnd this one goes out to the ladies from all the guys\nA big bow-wow-wow\n'Cause we gonna make it a little misty here tonight\nThis is DJ EZ Dicc\nOn the station that slaps you across your fat ass with a fat dick\nWhen I met you last night, baby\nBefore you opened up your gap\nI had respect for you, lady\nBut now, I take it all back\n'Cause you gave me all your pussy\nAnd you even licked my balls\nLeave your number on the cabinet\nAnd I promise, baby, I'll give you a call\nNext time I'm feelin' kinda horny\nYou can come on over\nAnd I'll break you off\nAnd if you can't fuck that day, baby\nJust lay back and open your mouth\n'Cause I have never met a girl\nThat I love in the whole wide world\nYou might also like\nWell, if Kurupt gave a fuck about a bitch, I'd always be broke\nI'd never have no muthafuckin' Indo to smoke\nI gets loc'ed and loony, bitch, you can't do me\nDo we look like BBD, you hoochie groupie?\nI have no love for hoes\nThat's somethin' that I learned in Tha Pound\nSo how the fuck am I supposed to pay this hoe just to lay this hoe?\nI know the pussy's mines, I'ma fuck a couple mo' times\nAnd then I'm thru wit' it, there's nothin' else to do wit' it\nPass it to the homie, now you hit it\n'Cause she ain't nothin' but a bitch to me\nAnd y'all know, that bitches ain't shit to me\nI gives a fuck! Why don't y'all pay attention?\nApproach her with a different proposition\nI'm Kurupt, ho, you'll never be my only one, trick-ass bitch!\n\nIt ain't no fun if the homies can't have none\nIt ain't no fun if the homies can't have none\nIt ain't no fun if the homies can't have none\nIt ain't no fun if the homies can't have none\n\nGuess who's back in the muthafuckin' house?!\nWith a fat dick for your muthafuckin' mouth!\nHoes recognize, niggas do too\n'Cause when bitches get scandalous and pull a voodoo\nWhat you gon' do? You really don't know\nSo I'd advise you not to trust that ho\nSilly of me to fall in love with a bitch\nKnowin' damn well I'm too caught up wit' my grip\nNow, as the sun rotates and my game grows bigger\nHow many bitches wanna fuck this nigga named Snoop Doggy?\nI'm all the above\nI'm too swift on my toes to get caught up wit' you hoes\nBut see, it ain't no fun\nIf my homies can't get a taste of it\n'Cause you know I don't love it\nWoo! Hey! Now you know\nInhale, exhale with my flow\nOne for the money, two for the bitches\nThree to get ready, and fo' to hit the switches\nIn my Chevy \u2014 '64 red, to be exact\nWith bitches on my side, and bitches on my back\nSo back up, bitch, because I'm strugglin'\nJust get on your knees, and then start jugglin'\nThese muthafuckin' nuts in your mouth\nIt's me, Warren G, the nigga wit' the clout\n\nIt ain't no fun if the homies can't have none\nIt ain't no fun if the homies can't have none\nIt ain't no fun if the homies can't have none\nIt ain't no fun if the homies can't have none"}
{"text":"Eee-ya-ya-ya-ya-yah The Dogg Pound's in the house (The bomb)\nEee-ya-ya-ya-ya-yah The Dogg Pound's in the house\nSnoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)\nSnoop Doggy Dogg (Dog)\n\nFrom the depths of the sea, back to the block\nSnoop Doggy Dogg, funky as the, the, The D.O.C\nWent solo on that ass, but it's still the same\nLong Beach is the spot where I serve my 'caine\nFollow me, follow me, follow me, follow me, but don't lose your grip\nNine-trizzay's the yizzear for me to fuck up shit\nSo I ain't holdin nuttin' back\nAnd motherfucker, I got five on that twenty sack\nIt's like that and as a matter of fact (Rat-tat-tat-tat)\n'Cause I never hesitate to put a nigga on his back\nYeah, so peep out the manuscript\nYou see that it's a must we drop gangsta shit\nWhat's my motherfuckin' name?\n\nSnoop Doggy Dogg (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nSnoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)\nDa-da-da-da-dah\nDo-do-do-do, doo-doo-doo-da-dahhh (Dog)\nYou might also like\nIt's the bow to the wow, creepin and crawlin\nYiggy yes-y'allin', Snoop Doggy Dogg in\nThe motherfuckin' house like everyday\nDroppin' shit with my nigga Mr. Dr. Dre\nLike I said, niggas can't FUCK with this\nAnd niggas can't FUCK with that\nShit that I drop 'cause ya know it don't stop\nMr. One Eight Seven on a motherfuckin' cop\nTic toc never the Glock just some nuts and a cock\nRobbin' motherfuckers then I kill dem bloodclots\nThen I step through the fog and I creep through the smog\n'Cause I'm Snoop Doggy (Who?) Doggy (What?) Doggy Dogg\n\nSnoop Doggy Dogg\nSnoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)\nBow wow wow yippie-yo-yippie-yay\nBow wow wow yippie-yo (The bomb)\nBow wow wow yippie-yo-yippie-yay\nBow wow wow yippie yo yo yo yo (Dog)\n\nNow just throw your hands in the motherfuckin' air\nAnd wave the motherfuckers like ya just don't care (Dog)\nYeah roll up the dank, and pour the drank\nAnd watch your step (Why?) 'cause Doggy's on the gank\nMy bank roll's on swoll\nMy shit's on hit, legit, now I'm on parole, stroll\nWith the Dogg Pound right behind me\nAnd up in yo bitch, is where ya might find me\nLayin that, playin that G Thang\nShe want the nigga with the biggest nuts, and guess what?\nHe is I, and I am him, slim with the tilted brim\nWhat's my motherfuckin' name?\nSnoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)\nSnoop Doggy Dogg\nSnoop Doggy Dogg (The bomb)\nSnoop Doggy Dogg (Dog)\nDa-da-da-da-dah\nDo-do-do-do, doo-doo-doo-da-dahhh (The bomb)\nDa-da-da-da-dah\nDo-do-do-do, doo-doo-doo-da-dahhh (Dog, the bomb)\n\nDoggy Dogg, Doggy Dogg, Doggy Dogg\n(Bow wow wow yippie-yo-yippie yay\nBow wow wow yippie-yo (The bomb)\nBow wow wow yippie-yo-yippie yay\nBow wow wow yippie yo (The bomb))\nWhat is, his name? (Dog) Snoop Dogg, and the Dogg Pound (Dog) (The bomb)\nOh, Snoopy Dogg, Snoopy Dogg, Snoopy Dogg (The bomb)\nYeah yeah (Dog) I know his name\nC'mon Snoopy, c'mon Snoopy (The bomb)\nAnd the Dogg Pound\nSnoopy Dogg (The bomb) Snoopy Dogg\nSnoopy Dogg (Dog)\n(Dog, nasty dog, doggy dog)"}
{"text":"(\"Indo Smoke\" Plays in Background)\nAye, aye,  JC\n'Sup Enron\nAin't that Snoop Dogg over there?\nThat nigga with that blue coat on?\nYeah\nYeah, oh yeah, that's that nigga\nNigga roll up on the side of him, man\nRoll your window down\nMan, hand me my motherfucking Glock man, give me another clip\nCause I'm gonna smoke this fool\nYeah roll the windows down\nYeah, okay there you go\nAye man, you Snoop Dogg?\nSnoop, Snoop Doggy Dogg?\nMan he's Snoop Dogg\nMan fuck that nigga (Gun Shots)\nNigga man\nGet that nigga man\nMan get up fool man, get up man, don't be trying to run man\nGet up on that fool man, I don't give a fuck\nWhat set you got now?\nFuck you nigga\nYeah nigga, what's up?\nNigga\nYeah mothafucka\nYeah nigga, one less nigga\nYeah nigga, you's a dead motherfucker now\nYou might also like\nAs I look up at the sky\nMy mind starts tripping, a tear drops my eye\nMy body temperature falls\nI'm shaking and they break in tryna save the Dogg\nPumping on my chest and I'm screaming\nI stop breathing, damn, I see demons\nDear God, I wonder can you save me\nI can't die, my boo boo's 'bout to have my baby\nI think it's too late for praying, hold up\nA voice spoke to me and it slowly started saying\n(Bring your lifestyle to me, I'll make it better)\nHow long will I live? (Eternal life and forever)\nAnd will I be the G that I was?\n(I'll make your life better than you can imagine or even dreamed of\nSo relax your soul, let me take control\nClose your eyes my son) my eyes are closed\n\nMurdahhhhhhhh\nMurdah was the case that they gave me\nMurdahhhhhhhh\nMurdah was the case that they gave me\nI'm fresh up out my coma\nI got my Momma and my Daddy and my homies in my corner\nIt's gonna take a miracle they say\nFor me to walk again and talk again but anyway\nI get fronted some keys to get back on my feet\nAnd everything that nigga said came to reality\nLiving like a baller loc\nHaving money and blowing hella chronic smoke\nI bought my Momma a Benz, and bought my boo boo a Jag\nAnd now I'm rolling in a nine-trizzay El Do-Rad\n(Just remember who changed your mind\n'Cause when you start set-tripping, that ass is mine)\nIndeed, agreed, proceed to smoke weed\nNever have a want, never have a need\nThey say I'm greedy but I still want mo'\n'Cause my eyes wanna journey some mo', really doe (check it out)\nNow I lay me down to sleep\nI pray the Lord, my soul to keep\nIf I should die, before I wake\nI pray the Lord, my soul to take\n\nNo more indo, gin and juice\nI'm on my way to Chino, rolling on the grey goose\nShackled from head to toe\nTwenty-five with an izz-el, with nowhere to gizzo, I know\nThem niggas from the other side recognize my face\n'Cause it's the O.G. D-O-double-G, L-B-C\nMad dogging niggas cause I don't care\nRed jumpsuit with two braids in my hair\nNiggas stare as I enter the center\nThey send me to a level three yard, that's where I stay\nLate night I hear toothbrushes scraping on the floor\nNiggas getting they shanks, just in case the war, pops off\n'Cause you can't tell what's next\nMy little homie Baby Boo took a pencil in his neck\nAnd he probably won't make it to see twenty-two\nI put that on my Momma, I'ma ride for you Baby Boo\n\nMurdahhhhhhhh\nMurdah was the case that they gave me\nMurdahhhhhhhh\nMurdah was the case that they gave me\nMurdahhhhhhhh\nMurdah was the case that they gave me\nMurdahhhhhhhh\nMurdah was the case that they gave me"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsLodi Dodi Lyrics\nYeah, gotta say what's up to my nigga Slick Rick\nFor those who don't like it, eat a dick\nBut for those who with me, sing that shit\nAs it go a little something like this\n\nLodi Dodi, we likes to party\nWe don't cause trouble, we don't bother nobody\nWe're just some niggas who're on the mic\nAnd when we rock up on the mic, we rock the mic (right)\nFor all my Doggs keepin' y'all in health\nJust to see you smile and enjoy yourself\n'Cause it's cool when you cause the cozy condition in\nWhich we create, cause that's our mission\nSo listen close, to what we say\nBecause this types of shit happens every day\nI woke up around 10 o'clock in the morning\nI gave myself a stretch, up, a morning yawn, and\nWent to the bathroom to wash up\nI threw some soap on my face and put my hands up on a cup\nAnd said \"Um, mirror mirror, on, the wall\nWho is the top dog of them all?\"\nThere was a ruffle duffle, five minutes it lasted\nThe mirror said, \"You are, you conceited bastard!\"\nWell that's true! That's why we never have no beef\nSo I slipped off my khakis and my gold leaf\nUsed Oil of Olay 'cause my skin gets pale\nAnd then I got the file for my fingernails\nI'm true to the style on my behalf\nI put some bubbles in the tub so I can take a bubble bath\nClean, dry, was my body and hair\nI threw on my brand new doggy underwear\nFor all the bitches I might take home\nI got the Johnson's Baby Powder and Cool Water cologne\nNow I'm fresh, dressed like a million bucks\nThrew on my white socks, with my all-blue Chucks\nStepped out the house, stopped short, \"oh no\"\nI went back in, \"I forgot my Indo!\"\nThen I dilly (dally) I ran through a (alley)\nI bumped into this smoker named (Sally) from the (Valley)\nThis was a girl playing hard to get\nSo I said \"What's wrong?\" 'cause she looked upset\nShe said, um:\nYou might also like\nIt's all because of you, I'm feeling sad and blue\nYou went away, now my life is filled with rainy days\nI love you so, how much you'll never know\n'Cause you took your dope away from me\n\nDamn, now what was I to do?\nShe's crying over me and she was feelin blue\nI said, \"Um, don't cry, dry your eye\nAnd here comes your mother with those two little guys\"\nHer mean mother steps then says to me \"Hi!\"\nDecked Sally in the face and punched her in the eye\nPunched her in the belly and stepped on her feet\nSlammed the child on the hard concrete\nThe bitch was strong, the kids was gone\nSomething was wrong I said, \"What was goin on?\"\nI tried to break it up, I said, \"Stop it, just leave her!\"\nShe said, \"If I can't smoke none, she can't either!\"\nShe grabbed me closely by my socks\nAnd so I broke the hell out, and I grabbed my sack of rocks\nBut um, they gave chase, they caught up quick\nThey started crying on my shoes and grabbin' my dick\nAnd saying \"Why don't you give me a play\nSo we can break it down the Long Beach way\nAnd if you give me that okay\nI'll give you all my love today\nDoggy, Doggy, Doggy, can't you see?\nSomehow your words just hypnotize me\nAnd I just love your jazzy ways\nDoggy Dogg, your love is here to stay\"\nAnd on and on and on she kept goin'\nThe bitch been around before my mother's born!\nI said \"Cheer up!\" and I gave her a hit\nI said, \"You can't have me, I'm too young for you bitch!\"\nShe said, \"No you're not!\" then she starts cryin'\nI says I'm 19, she says, \"Stop lyin!\"\nI says, \"I am, go ask my mother\nAnd with your wrinkled pussy, I can't be your lover\"\nYeah, uh, tick-tock ya don\u2019t stop\nAnd to the, uh, tick-tock n'ya don\u2019t quit\nYeah, n'ya tick-tock ya don\u2019t stop\nAnd to the, uh, tick-tock n'ya don\u2019t quit\nBiatch!"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsDid Somebody Say Lyrics\n(Did somebody say) Sick of this\nGet those Just Eat foods online for me\n(Just Eat) We\u2005gon'\u2005do this Doggy\u2005style\nDid somebody say Just Eat?\n\nMe, get\u2005delivery like a G\nSee hungry Dogg's gotta eat\nI get mine every day, every week\nChicken wings to the crib I'm sittin' in\nBurger in the low-low\nHope they kept the pickle in\nWonton on a catamaran\nOodles of noodles, thank you, my man\nTacos to the chateau, please\nDid somebody say Just Eat?\nPrivate jet in the night sky\nMy man hand glide by with my fried rice, right\nWhat could you not love\n'Bout a slice on the side of the hot tub? (Ooh)\nWhat you gonna do, boo?\nChocolate fondue right on cue\nEven dipping in the sea\nI see food, seafood sees me\nJ-U-S-T  E-A-T\nDid somebody say Just Eat?You might also like"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olVato Lyrics\nMan, don't you know that I'm loco?\nMhm, hm\n\nI was chillin' (Chillin') right around my way (Way)\n21st, east side of the Beach\nThis motherfucker ran up on me\nTalkin' shit with his homies like he was a straight G\nAskin' where I'm from while he runnin' up\nGangbang my set on e'ry one of 'em (20's, nigga, 20's)\nSome things, sons, they just won't change\nFools don't respect nuttin' but the gangbang (Bang)\nWhat's seen is what's saw, Dogg is the law\nI have you niggas runnin' like a marathon\nLil' G's tryna creep on the East with it\nTalkin' 'bout they gon' get my chain and they gon' leave with it (Mm)\nBut they don't know once they get close\nIt's tic-tac-toe, three motherfuckers laid on the floor (Watch out)\nYeah, this happened yesterday\nOn the West they spray, I heard a ese say, he said\n\nVato, you won't believe what I saw\nI saw this pack of guys and they act real hard (And what they do?)\nThey twist their fingers, say, \"You know who we are\"\nHe said, \"I don't give a fuck, I'm Snoop Doggy Dogg\" (Uh-huh)\nThey keep talkin' and it went too far\nSo Snoopy, he went straight to the trunk of his car (And what he get?)\nHe got his gun and they start runnin' hard\nHe started firing and then he just charged\nYou might also like\n(Blaow) Run nigga, run nigga\n(Blaow) Duck nigga, duck nigga\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n(Blaow) Run nigga, run nigga\n(Blaow) Duck nigga, duck nigga\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n\nI didn't mean to hit what I hit\nNow there's three motherfuckers dead and I ain't seen shit\nBut these niggas'll scream for plea\nBut for a G like me, it's just a case, really, you could see\nI crack the MAC back and pop off rollin'\nAnd smack ya neck back, ya drop off, fallin'\nI haven't seen my mama in a week\nAnd she ain't even ran her mouth about me\nFuck that, I ain't give a fuck about the law\nNiggas say they wanna brawl, you would think that they were broads\nBelievin' all the things that you never saw\nIn it, y'all, been a Dogg, smoke you like a Menthol\nYou think you know? But this can't go\nYou think you'll blow on my dope? What the fuck? No\nSee these niggas proceed with speed\nSo feel the need to bleed, all you hear my enemies goin'\nVato, you won't believe what I saw\nI saw this pack of guys and they act real hard (And what they do?)\nThey twist their fingers, say, \"You know who we are\"\nHe said, \"I don't give a fuck, I'm Snoop Doggy Dogg\" (Uh-huh)\nThey keep talkin' and it went too far\nSo Snoopy, he went straight to the trunk of his car (And what he get?)\nHe got his gun and they start runnin' hard\nHe started firing and then he just charged\n\n(Blaow) Run nigga, run nigga\n(Blaow) Duck nigga, duck nigga\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n(Blaow) Run nigga, run nigga\n(Blaow) Duck nigga, duck nigga\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n\nI wouldn't be the nigga that I am\nIf I didn't pop niggas in they mouth, goddamn\nAnd Snoop'll keep one foot on the streets\nAnd leave 'em covered in sheets, run with them niggas with the heat (Heat)\nYou never seen a thug like this\nYou never seen a dub like me\nAnd I ain't weak for wanting peace\nIn fact, I could be \"Beast of the East\", motherfucker\nI never hesitate to blaze (Blaze)\nA nigga really tryna change his ways\nWe gotta move my team, 'cause my peoples\nIs screamin' that we need more for fun or it's illegal\nBa-ba-bang on a song, make it feel like a drive-by (Drive-by)\nIt's a shame, but somebody gotta die (Die)\nThey see it happen state-to-state\nBut when I'm mobbin' L.A., all I hear the eses say, they go\nVato, you won't believe what I saw\nI saw this pack of guys and they act real hard (And what they do?)\nThey twist their fingers, say, \"You know who we are\"\nHe said, \"I don't give a fuck, I'm Snoop Doggy Dogg\" (Uh-huh)\nThey keep talkin' and it went too far\nSo Snoopy, he went straight to the trunk of his car (And what he get?)\nHe got his gun and they start runnin' hard\nHe started firing and then he just charged\n\n(Blaow) Run nigga, run nigga\n(Blaow) Duck nigga, duck nigga\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n(Blaow) Run nigga, run nigga\n(Blaow) Duck nigga, duck nigga\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\n(Blaow) Run, motherfucker, run\nSnoop Dogg, him bust gunshots\nSkateboard P, they say him bust gunshots\nDPG, them bust gunshots\nBBC, you know them bust gunshots, come again, now\nSnoop Dogg, him bust gunshots\nSkateboard P, you know him bust gunshots, come again, now\nBBC, them bust gunshots\nDPGC, you know them bust gunshots, come again, now\nI'm tired of hearin' all that bullshit\nWhen you gon' play some of that good shit? Damn\nI mean, give me some like a\u2014"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsRiders On the Storm (Fredwreck Remix) Lyrics\nAyo, Jim, man, why don't ya...\nWhy don't you kick some of that, you know?\nYou-You know how you do it, man\nIt's a trip, people don't even believe we're together right now (Wow!)\nBu-, bu-, but tell your story\nYou know the one I like (Ride, ride, ride)\nSay it for me\n\nRiders on the storm\n(Ride, ride, ride)\nRiders on the storm\n(Ride, ride, ride)\nInto this house we're born\n(Into this house we're born)\nInto this world we're thrown\n(Into this world we're thrown)\nLike a dog without a bone (Woof, woof)\nAn actor out on loan\nRiders on the storm (Ride, ride, ride)\nThere's a killer on the road (Killer, killer, murder, murder, murder)\nHis brain is squirmin' like a toad\nTake a long holiday\n(Holidays, holidays)\nLet your children play (C'me here and play)\nIf you give this man a ride\nSweet family will die (Ride, ride, ride)\nKiller on the road (Killer, murder, murder, murder, murder, murder)\nYeah!\nYou might also like\nGoin' off of this, goin' off of that\nWith the Lizard king bumpin' in the back, how 'bout that?\nDriftin', liftin', swiftin' (Let 'em in. let 'em in)\nCoastin', testaroastin' (Yeah)\nBut the wheels won't stop (Won't stop)\nHe's a rider? (Woo, woo) Naw, he's a killer\nDressed in all black, but his hat says Steeler (Steeler, Steeler)\nPedal to the metal (Metal)\nI gotta go hard, drive by and say \"hello\"\nHey, Fredwreck, you my mello\nNow let me hear what I sound like acapella (Shh)\nWow, ride, dip swish\nNow bring it back, just like this\nLike a dog without his bone\nUnlike a G without his chrome\nIt's hard to imagine\nThe homie dog in a Jag and he's checkin' for the checkered flagin'\nComin' in first, never in last\n'Cause my car too fast (Zoom, zoom)\nI never ever run outta gas\n'Cause I'm just too clean, I do it upperclass\nSo fasten your seat belts\nIt's so hot, it'd even make heat melt (Woo, woo)\nSo get a board and roll and ride\nSlip through the slip and slide\nLike a dog without a bone\nAn actor out on loan\nRiders on the storm\nThere's a killer on the road\nHis brain is squirmin' like a toad\nTake a long holiday\nLet your children play\nIf you give this man a ride\nSweet family will die\nKiller on the road\nYeah\n\nWoah!\nAway in India\nWoo!\n\nNeed for Speed, I'm tryin' to take the lead\nHold on, little homie, 'fore you run into the trees (Watch out!, watch out!)\nI've seen things that I never would've saw before\nAyo, Jim, let 'em in, let 'em in\nOpen up, my back tire smokin' up\nThe whole street\nAnd now the police wanna flash their lights (Wuuh, wuuh)\nAnd chase the Dogg all night (Woof!)\nBut I won't pull over nor give up\n'Cause I just don't give a (What?)\nYeah, I'm from the side, boy\nWhere we was born and raised\nStraight up to ride, boy (West Side)\nContinuously (Continuously)\nWe get to it expeditiously (Yeah)\nKeep the light on, East side on\nSnoop Dogg and The Doors and, yeah, we 'bout to ride on\nRiders on the storm\nRiders on the storm\nInto this house we're born\nInto this world we're thrown\nLike a dog without a bone\nAn actor out on loan\nRiders on the storm\n\nRiders on the storm\nRiders on the storm\nRiders on the storm\nRiders on the storm\nAnd let's ride! (Wow! Yeah!)"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsTha Shiznit Lyrics\nPoppin', stoppin', hoppin' like a rabbit\nWhen I take the Nina Ross, ya know I gots to have it\nI lay back in the cut, retain myself\nThink about the shit, and I'm thinkin' wealth\nHow can I makes my grip\nAnd how should I make that nigga straight slip\nSet trip, gotta get him for his grip\nAs I dip around the corner, now I'm on another\nMission, wishin', upon a star\nSnoop Doggy Dogg with the caviar\nIn the back of the limo, no demo, this is the real\nBreakin' niggas down like Evander Holyfield, chill\n'Til the next episode\nI make money, and I really don't love hoes\nTell you the truth, I swoop in the Coupe\nI used to sell loot, I used to shoot hoops\nBut now I make hits every single day\nWith that nigga, the diggy Dr. Dre\nSo lay back in the cut motherfucker 'fore you get shot\nIt's 1-8-7 on a motherfuckin' cop\n\nBoy it's gettin' hot, yes indeed it is\nSnoop Dogg is on the mic, I'm 'bout as crazy as Biz\nMarkie, spark the chronic bud real quick\nAnd let me get into some fly gangsta shit\nYeah, I lay back, stay back in the cut\nNiggas try to play the D-O-G like a mutt\nI got a little message, don't try to see Snoop\nI'm finna fuck a bitch, what's her name? It's Luke\nYou tried to see me on the TV, you'se a B.G\nD-O-double-G, yes I'm a O.G\nYou can't see my homie Dr. Dre\nSo what the fuck a nigga like you gotta say?\nGotta take a trip to the MIA\nAnd serve your ass with a motherfuckin' AK\nYou can't see the D-O-double-G, 'cause that be me\nI'm servin' 'em, swervin' in the Coupe\nThe Lexus flexes from Long Beach to Texas\nSexist hoes, they wanna get with this\n'Cause Snoop Dogg is the shit, biatch!\nYou might also like\nAhhhh, I'm somewhat brain boggled\nSo I look to the microphone and slowly start to wobble\nGrab it, habit, stick it to the plug\nIt's Snoop Doggy, I got a fat dub\nSack of the chronic in my back pocket loc\nNeed myself a lighter so I can take a smoke\nI toke everyday, I loc everyday\nWith the P-O-U-N-D and my nigga Dr. Dre\nLay back in the cut like I told your ass\nGimme the microphone and let me hit you with a blast\nI got a little cousin by the name of Daz\nAnd bitches who fuck him gimme the ass\n'Cause they know about the shit that we be goin' through\nAnd they know about the shit that I be puttin' up\nAnd they be knowin' bout the shit I do when I'm on the mic\n'Cause Snoop Dogg is Trump tight like a virgin, the surgeon\nIs Dr. Drizzay, so lizzay, and plizzay\nWith D-O-double-Gizzay the fly human being seein'\nNo, I'm not European bein' all I can\nWhen I put the motherfuckin' mic in my hand, and\nYou don't understand what I'm kickin'\n'Cause Snoop is on the mic and I gets wicked, follow me\nListen to me, 'cause I do you like you wanna be done\nSnoop Doggy Dogg on this three two one, umm\nDum, diddy-dum here I come\nWith the gat, and the guitar will strum, I'm\nNot that lunatic nigga who you thought I was\nWhen I caught you slippin', I'ma catch you then I'll peel your cap\nSnap back, relax\nYa bet' not be slippin' with them D's on that '83 Cadillac\nSo we gon' smoke an ounce to this\nG'z up, hoes down while you motherfuckers bounce to this"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsBeautiful Lyrics\nOh, oh, oh, oh\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nOh, oh, oh, oh\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\n\nBeautiful, I just want you to know\nYou're my favorite girl\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nBeautiful, I just want you to know\nYou're my favorite girl\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\n\nI know you gon' lose it, this new Snoop shit\nCome on, baby boo, you gots to get into it\nDon't fool with the player with the cool whip\nYeah, yeah, you know I'm always on that cool shit\nWalk to it, do it how you do it\nHave a glass, let me put you in the mood, and\nLittle cutie, looking like a student\nLong hair with your big fat booty\nBack in the days, you was a girl I went to school with\nHad to tell your moms and sister to cool it\nThe girl wanna do it, I just might do it\nHit her up with some pimp-pimp fluid\nMommy, don't worry, I won't abuse it\nHurry up and finish so we can watch Clueless\nI laugh at these niggas when they ask, \"Who do this?\"\nBut everybody know, ooh, girl, that you is\nYou might also like\nBeautiful, I just want you to know\nYou're my favorite girl\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nBeautiful, I just want you to know\nYou're my favorite girl\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\n\nWhen I see my baby boo, shit, I get foolish\nSmack a nigga that tries to pursue it\nHomeboy, she taken, just move it\nI asked you nicely, don't make the Dogg lose it\nWe just blow dro and keep the flow movin'\nIn a '64, me and baby boo cruisin'\nBody rag interior blue, and\nHave them hydraulics squeakin' when we screwin'\nNow she's yellin', hollerin' out \"Snoop!\" and\nHootin', hollerin'; hollerin', hootin'\nBlack and beautiful, you the one I'm choosin'\nHair long, thin, black and curly like you're Cuban\nKeep groovin', that's what we doin'\nAnd we gon' be together until your moms move in\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\n\nBeautiful, I just want you to know\nYou're my favorite girl\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nBeautiful, I just want you to know\nYou're my favorite girl\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nSee, I just want you\nTo know that you are really special\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nOh my, oh my, oh my, oh my\nSee, I just want you\nTo know that you are really special\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nOh my, oh my, oh my, oh my\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\n\nSnoop Dogg Clothing, that's what I'm groomed in\nYou got my pictures on the wall in your room, and\nGirls be complaining you keep me boomin'\nBut girls like that wanna listen to Pat Boone\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nYou's a college girl, but that don't stop you from doin'\nCome and see the Dogg in a hood near you, and\nYou don't ask why I roll with a crew, and\nTwist up my fingers, and wear dark blue, and\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nOn the Eastside, that's the crew I choose\nNothing I do is new to you\nI smack up the world if they rude to you\n'Cause baby girl, you're so beautiful\nBeautiful, I just want you to know\nYou're my favorite girl\nBeautiful, I just want you to know\nYou're my favorite girl\n\nSee, I just want you\nTo know that you are really special\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nOh my, oh my, oh my, oh my\nSee, I just want you\nTo know that you are really special\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nOh my, oh my, oh my, oh my\nSee, I just want you\nTo know that you are really special\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nOh my, oh my, oh my, oh my\nI just want you\nTo know that you are really special\n(Yeah, oh yeah, there's something about you)\nOh my, oh my, oh my, oh my\n\nEhh... oh yeah, there's something about you... Oh-hooo!\nEhh... oh yeah, there's something about you... Oh-hooo!\nEhh... oh yeah, there's something about you... Oh-hooo!"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsDoggy Dogg World Lyrics\nCan we get a motherfuckin' moment of silence\nFor the small chronic break?\nA-hah, niggas be brown-nosin' these hoes and shit\nTakin' bitches out to eat, and spendin' money on these hoes\nKnow what I'm sayin'?\nI treat a bitch like 7-Up \u2014 I never have, I never will\nI tell a bitch like this:\n\"Bitch, you without me is like Harold Melvin without Blue Notes\nYou'll never go platinum!\"\nHey Daz, give me a light, nigga\nWe\u2019d like to welcome y'all to the fabulous Carolina West\nI own this motherfucker, and my name is Taa-Dow\nY'all niggas know who I am, y'all niggas tearin' up shit\nBut we got somethin' old, and somethin' new for y'all tonight\nPut yo' hands together for Snoop Doggy Dogg\nThe Dogg Pound, and the fabulous Dramatics\n\nIt's like everywhere I look, and everywhere I go\nI'm hearin' motherfuckers tryin' to steal my flow\nBut it ain't no thang, 'cause, see, my nigga Coolio\nPut me up on the game when I stepped through the do'\nYou might also like\nYou know, some of these niggas is so deceptive\nUsin' my styles like a contraceptive\nI hope you get burnt, seems you haven't learnt\nIt's the knick-knack, paddywhack, I still got the biggest sack\nSo put your gun away, run away, 'cause I'm back (Whyyy?)\nHit 'em up, get 'em up, spit 'em up\nNow, tell me, what's going on?\nIt make me wanna holler, 'cause my dollars come in O-zones\nKnown for the break up, so take off your clothes\nAnd quit tryin' to spit at my motherfuckin' hoes\nSpeakin' of hoes, I'll get to the point\nYou think you got the bomb 'cause I rolled you a joint?\nYou'se a flea! And I'm the Big Dogg\nI'll scratch you off my balls with my motherfuckin' paws\nY'alls niggas better recognize (Uh-huh)\nAnd see where I'm comin' from \u2014 it's still Eastside 'til I die\nWhy ask why?\nAs the world keeps spinnin' to the D-O-double G, Y\n\nIt's a crazy, mixed-up world\nIt's a Doggy Dogg World\n\nWell, if you give me ten bitches, then I'll fuck all ten\nSee my homie Snoop Dogg sippin' juice and gin\nDon't slip, I'm for the set-trip to get papers\nStyles vary, packin' flavor like Lifesavers\nAin't that somethin'? Talk shit and I'm dumpin'\nI had your whole fuckin' block bumpin'\nDon't sweat, but check the technique, I'm unique like China\nYou'll never find a bomber rhymer than this nigga behind ya\nSo peek-a-boo, clear the way, I'm comin' through\nOne-two, three \u2014 you can't see me\nI'm a G like that, strapped with hit-hard tactics\nA fuckin' menace, usin' hoes like tennis rackets\nIt's on again, it's on and poppin'\nAll I see is green, so there ain't no stoppin'\nI wanna see some panties droppin'\nI'm comin' from L.A, she used to chill with Dre up in Compton\n(All I ever did was just use that ho\nShow her my dickies, get with these, and kick flows)\nI\u2019m dishin' out blues, I\u2019m upsettin' like bad news\nCut off khakis, french braids, and house shoes\nKurupt, the name\u2019s often marked for catchin' slugs\nAnd I smoke weed for the fuck of it\nRuff and rugged shit, it\u2019s unexplanatory how I gets wicked\nBut it\u2019s mandatory that I kick it\nCheck it, I\u2019m runnin' hoes in '94, now must I prove it\nHoes call me Sugar Ray for the way I be stickin' and movin'\nPrepare for a war, it\u2019s on\nI\u2019m head huntin', hit the button, and light shit up like Red Dawn\nPeep the massacre from a verbal assassin\nMurderin' with rhymes packin' TEC-9\u2019s for some action\nYou really don\u2019t know, do you? You fuckin' wit a hog\nYou can\u2019t do me, I\u2019m goin' out looney like O-Dog\nIt's a crazy, mixed-up world\nIt's a Doggy Dogg World\n\nTha Dogg Pound rocks the party (All night long)\nUh-huh, 'til when? (Till the early morn')\nIt don't stop, and uh... it don't quit for the...\nTha Dogg Pound clique to drop the cavi dope shit\n\nDiggity-Daz out of the motherfuckin' cut once mo'\nSo grab a seat and grab your gin and juice and check out the flow\nI flip-flop and serve hoes with the fat dick\n'Til I die, I'm still screamin' out (\"Bitches ain't shit!\")\nNow, I'm the mack daddy, had he\nNot known about the city where I'm from, dum-diddy-dum\nAs you groove to the gangster shit\nThe D-O-double G, the P-O-U-N-D, the gangster clique\nNow as Tha Pound break it down with the gangster funk\nI can see and I can tell that's what the fuck you want\nSo I blaze up the chronic so I can get high\nI promise I'll smoke chronic 'til the day that I die\n\nIt's a Doggy Dogg World"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsThat\u2019s That Shit Lyrics\nYeah, that's right, I like that\nThe royal penis is clean your highness\nThank you, uh, uh\nSnoop, Kells\nYou know how we get down\n\nI pull up, dip low in the Phantom with the wheels spinnin'\nLadies like \"That's that shit\"\nI'm in the back of the club, blowin' trees\nHands up, head bobbin' like that's that shit\nIn the spot where the girls go wild\nDancing titty bar style, I'm like \"That's that shit\"\nSnoop Dizzle (Hey) your boy Kells (Hey)\nLet me hear you say \"That's that shit\"\n\nLet's get this party jumpin', me and Kel' gon' get it bumpin'\nThey humpin' like when it's over, we gon' all get into somethin'\nThe Dogg is fresh, Southside without a vest\nNothin on my chest but these ladies up out the Midwest\nI must confess that in the Chi' you're so blessed\nLeaving nothing on my mind but Doggy, you and safe sex\nThis ain't a test, you fucking with a cold mess\nMeet me in Chicago, let me hip you to this real west\nIt's real strong, real fat and real long\nDoggies in the building, holdin' something they can feel up on\nAnd once they get it something they can build up on\nTake that skinny nigga home, work that filling till it's gone\nGet that home grown, put that shit on Daddy long\nI know how you ladies do it, t-shirt with no panties on\nLet's get this shit crackin', Kell and Doggy Dogg in action\nIf you in here all alone, you might get this dog bone\nYou might also like\nI pull up, dip low in the Phantom with the wheels spinnin'\nLadies like \"That's that shit\"\nI'm in the back of the club, blowin' trees\nHands up, head bobbin' like that's that shit\nIn the spot where the girls go wild\nDancing titty bar style, I'm like \"That's that shit\"\nSnoop Dizzle (Hey), your boy Kells (Hey)\nLet me hear you say \"That's that shit\"\n\nDippin' low, '64, hundred spokes and chronic smoke\nAll these ladies on the floor cause they know what we in here for\nDogg and Kelly came to ball, get your ass up off the wall\nLet that middle wiggle now make that shit fall\nNot just one but all y'all, move it like you want it all\nLet me see you bounce it for me, work that shit for Doggy Dogg\nYou gots to do it, is that your crew?\nBring 'em too, come here let me take you through it\nThen once Kelly get into it, we can get this after party\nPoppin' everybody, got themselves another body\nKnockin' out without protection though, that's my confession\nBut at the spot if you just think you want a lesson, you can drop it like it's hot\nHold up, I came to cool out, lay back and get blown\nMaybe Henny, maybe gin, a couple shots of Patron\nAnd if you didn't you missed it but now it's known\nThat this that shit, Kels sing that song, come on\nI pull up, dip low in the Phantom with the wheels spinnin'\nLadies like \"That's that shit\"\nI'm in the back of the club, blowin' trees\nHands up, head bobbin' like that's that shit\nIn the spot where the girls go wild\nDancing titty bar style, I'm like \"That's that shit\"\nSnoop Dizzle (Hey) your boy Kells (Hey)\nLet me hear you say \"That's that shit\"\n\nSo if you think you got the bomb shit\nHolla at a playa\nHolla at a playa\nHolla at a playa\nAnd if you lookin' for some good sex\nHolla at a playa\nHolla at a playa\nHolla at a playa\nGirl if you ever in the 3-1-2\nHolla at a playa\nHolla at a playa\nHolla at a playa\nAnd if you're ever in the 2-1-3\nHolla at a playa\nHolla at a playa\nHolla at a playa\nI pull up, dip low in the Phantom with the wheels spinnin'\nLadies like \"That's that shit\"\nI'm in the back of the club, blowin' trees\nHands up, head bobbin' like that's that shit\nIn the spot where the girls go wild\nDancing titty bar style, I'm like \"That's that shit\"\nSnoop Dizzle (Hey) your boy Kells (Hey)\nLet me hear you say \"That's that shit\""}
{"text":"72 ContributorsBitch Please Lyrics\nYeah, time to bring your ass to the table, y\u2019all\nIt\u2019s X to the Z, Xzibit, yeah\nSnoop double D, uh, OG (Where you at? West Coast, Los Angeles)\nWhat\nBringin' it live, Dr. Dre, what\nThrowin' up a big ass W\nCoverin' up the world, right\nYeah, ha\nListen, look\n\nYou ain't tryna hot box with me, I swig hard liquor\nGoin' down by the second round, all hail the underground\nHow that sound? Xzibit backin' down from a conflict\nFuck the nonsense! Terrorist, here to bomb shit\nGlass and metal in every direction\nInnocent bystanders taught a very hard lesson\nI'm the reason there's no time to reach for that weapon\nAnd reason why niggas with problems keep on steppin'\nXzibit ready to scrap like Mike Tyson with his license back\n9 to 5 minimum wage? What type of life is that?\nFor me? It's blasphemy, you fuckin' around\nWith the Sundance Kid and Butch Cassidy\nYou had the audacity to wanna tangle with the X\nStrangle your neck, slap you like the opposite sex\nDrunk drivin', tryna stack my loot\nWhile other rappers gettin' Treated Like a Prostitute\nSo check the SoundScan\nYou might also like\nAll I wanna be was a G, ha\nMy whole life, nigga please, ha\nBreakin' off these motherfuckin' keys, ha\nLet's get these motherfuckin' G's, ha\nNigga, you don't wanna fuck with this\n\nOh, no, Big Snoop Dogg\nBack up in the heezy, baby\nYou jockin' my style? You so crazy\nDre say, ain't no limit to this\nAs long as we drop gangsta shit\nLook here, bitch, you fine and I dig your style\nCome fuck with a nigga and do it doggy style\nI'll be gentle, sentimental\nShit, we fucked in the rental\nLincoln Continental\nCoast-to-coast, L.A. to Chicago\n\n(Yeah, nigga, you know what's happenin', man) I get this pussy everywhere that I go\n(These bitches know what time it is) Ask the bitches in your hood 'cause they know (Hell yeah)\n(Hoes know about a nigga like me, man) I get this pussy everywhere that I go\n(I pimp these hoes, nigga, ha-ha) Ask the bitches in your hood 'cause they know\nBitch, please!\nGet down on your Goddamn knees\nFor this money, chronic, clothes and weed (Look)\nLook, you fuckin' with some real O.G.'s, bitch please\nBitch, please!\nGet down on your motherfuckin' knees\nWe came to get the motherfuckin' cheese\nYeah, you fuckin' wit' some real O.G.\u2019s, you dick tease\n\nBitch, please!\nNow what you need to do is\nHem my coat, and roll me some dope (Fo' real)\nDifferent strokes (Huh-uh) for different folks\nOh, you like settin' niggas up and gettin' them locs?\nA cute lil' bitch with a whole lotta heart\nShit gets thick when the light gets dark\nShe say she got a lick for me (Well, hook it up)\nWorth about 200 G's and 30 ki's!\nNow check this out, Dre: now, if I don't move\nThen a nigga like me, shit, I don't lose\nBut you know me, dog, I'm movin'!\nAin't nothing\u2019 to it but to get to groovin'\nYou've been waitin' on a nigga like me (What's that?)\nTo take that chance and rob your man and beat up the pussy\nA victim of the circumstance\nThat's the devil, they always wanna dance\nSee we go out with a bang (Bang, bang)\nI'm tryin' to work this cold thang\nAnd take this whole thang\nI get the money everywhere that I go (I go)\nI bust a bitch and take her money fo' sho\u2019 (Fo' sho\u2019)\nI get the money everywhere that I go (I go)\nI bust a bitch and take her money fo' sho\u2019 (Fo' sho\u2019)\n\nAyo, ayo, ayo\nYou don't wanna step to me\nStill claimin\u2019 D.P.G. till the day I d-i-e\nAyo, ayo, ayo\nYou don't wanna step to me\nStill claimin\u2019 D.P.G. till the day I d-i-e\nAyo, ayo, ayo\nYou don't wanna step to me\nStill claimin\u2019 D.P.G. till the day I d-i-e\nAyo, ayo, ayo\nYou don't wanna step to me\nStill claimin\u2019 D.P.G. till the day I d-i-e"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsCalifornia Roll Lyrics\nBaby you could be a movie star, hey (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\nGet yourself a medical card, yeah (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\n\u2018Cause that's how California rolls\nThey do the fingers like Redd Foxx, hey (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\nYou can make it on the light blue box, yeah (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\n\u2018Cause that's how California roll-olls, yeah\n\nSay when I pass you that weed and I ask if you can roll\nYou say \"Bro, don't you know I'm from 'round here?\"\nWell girl, I like the way you roll, even though you from the ghetto\nYou belong in a home in the mountains\nNot talking 'bout the view\nI'm talking 'bout me and you\nSo if you wanna go to Melrose\nLet's hit Adidas, girl we got our own shell toes\nAnd then we'll go to Venice\nYou roll so good, you might as well let me hit it\nFor like fifteen minutes\nGirl, you never gon' forget it\nAnd if you wanna go around town\nI could show you where all the real get it\nAnd if you wanna go downtown\nYou might as well roll with a real nigga\nI'm not talking 'bout them fools\nI'm talking 'bout me and you\nYou might also like\nBaby you could be a movie star, hey (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\nGet yourself a medical card, yeah (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\n\u2018Cause that's how California rolls\nThey do the fingers like Redd Foxx, hey (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\nYou can make it on the light blue box, yeah (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\n\u2018Cause that's how California roll-olls, yeah\n\nAnd when I hand you that weed and I ask if you can roll\nYou say, \"No\", let me show you around here\nCowgirl wanna roll with a winner\nRodeo with a winner, Rodeo loud, yeah\nAin't got nothing to lose\nI'm talking 'bout me and you\nAnd girl I got a, home in the Valley\nAnd the Rolls in the valet, just tell 'em what my name is\nYou heard about me, you heard all about me\nMean you heard all the hittas that I'm with gangbanging\nBut I ain't talking 'bout the news (I'm talking 'bout me and you)\nGirl you know that I'm talking 'bout you\nLet me show you all around\nI could show you where all the real get it\nAnd if you wanna go downtown\nYou might as well roll with a real nigga\nI'm not talking bout them fools\nI'm talking 'bout me and you\nBaby you could be a movie star, hey (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\nGet yourself a medical card, yeah (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\n\u2018Cause that's how California rolls\nThey do the fingers like Redd Foxx, hey (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\nYou can make it on the light blue box, yeah (L.A.; In Los Angeles)\n\u2018Cause that's how California roll-olls, yeah\n\nL.A. \nL.A. "}
{"text":"74 ContributorsSerial Killa Lyrics\nSix million ways to die, choose one\n\nIt's time to escape, but I don't know where the fuck I'm headed\nUp or down, right or left, life or death\nI see myself in a mist of smoke\nDeath becomes any nigga that takes me for a joke\nWe hit a five dollar stick, now we putting in work\nUnaccountable amounts of dirt, death becomes all niggas\nAnybody killer, you know what the deal is\nNigga, you know what the real is\n\nI see some off brand niggas on the corner flaggin me down\nSayin, \"Yo Daz, what's up with the Pound?\nIs that nigga Snoop alright? Ayo what's up with the crew?\nIs them niggas in jail, or are them niggas through?\"\nI said, \"If you ain't up on thangs\nSnoop Dogg is the name, Dogg Pound's the game\"\nIt's like this, they don't understand\nIt's an everyday thang to gangbang\nMake that twist, don't be a bitch, let these niggas know\nWhat's up witchu? I represent the Pound and Death Row\nAnd can't no other motherfucker in L.A. or Long Beach\nAnd Compton and Watts see D-O-G's\nNow, you can't come and you can't run, and you can't\nSee long to the G of the gang\nOne gun is all that we need, to put you to rest\n(Pump pump!) Put two slugs dead in your chest\nNow you dead then a motherfucker creeping and sleeping\n6 feet deep in, fucking with the Pound is\nYou might also like\nSuicide, it's a suicide\nSuicide, it's a suicide\nSuicide, it's a suicide\nSuicide, it's a suicide\n\nThe cloud becomes black and the sky becomes blue\nNow you in the midst of the Dogg Pound crew\nAin't no clue on why the fuck we do what we do\nLeave you in a state of paranoia, oooh\nDon't make a move for your gat so soon\n'Cause I drops bombs like Platoon (ayy nigga)\nWalk with me, hold my hand and let me lead you\nI'll take you on a journey, and I promise I won't leave you\nI won't leave you until you get the full comprehension\nAnd when you do, that's when the mission\nOr survival becomes your every thought\nKeep your eyes open 'cause you don't wanna be caught\nHalf stepping with your weapon on safety\nNow break yourself motherfucker 'fore you make me\nTake this 211 to another level\nI come up with your ends, you go down with the Devil\nNow roam through the depths of Hell\nWhere the rest your busta-ass homeboys dwell, well\nSuicide, it's a suicide\nSuicide, it's a suicide\nSuicide, it's a suicide\nNow tell me, what's my motherfuckin name?\nSerial killa!\nSerial killa!\nSerial killa!\n(Wake up in the morning, eat your Lucky Charms cereal)\n\nDeep, deep like the mind of Minolta\nNow picture this\nLet's picnic inside a morgue\nNot pic-a-nic baskets, pic-a-nic caskets!\nAnd I got the machine to crack your fuckin chest plates\nOpen and release them guts\nThen I release def cuts\nBrutal, jagged edged, totally rough-neck!\nNow everybody scream, 'nough respect to the X\n'Nough respect given\nDisrespect and you will not be living\nWord to momma, Emma, drama, dilemma\n\nSuicide, it's a suicide\nSuicide, it's a suicide\nSuicide, it's a suicide\nNow tell me, what's my motherfuckin name?\nSerial killa!\nSerial killa!\nSerial killa!\n(Wake up in the morning eat your Lucky Charms cereal)"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsGz and Hustlaz Lyrics\nThis is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas\nThis is for the hustlas, now back to the Gz\nThis is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas\nThis is for the hustlas now back to the Gz\nFreeze, at ease, now let me drop some more of them keys\nIt's 1-9-9-tre so let me just play\nIt's Snoop Dogg, I'm on the mic, I'm back with Dr. Dre\nBut this time I'mma hit yo' ass with a touch\nTo leave motherfuckers in a daze, fucked up\nSo sit back relax new jacks get smacked\nIt's Snoop Doggy Dogg I'm at the top of the stack\nI don't lack for a second, and I'm still checkin'\nThe dopest motherfucker that ya hearin' on the record\nIt's me, ya see, S-N-double-O-P\nD-O-double-G-Y, the D-O-double-G\nI'm fly as a falcon, soarin' through the sky\nAnd I'm high till I dizzie, rizzide\nSo check it, I get busy, I make your head dizzy\nI blow up your mouth like I was Dizzy Gillespie\nI'm crazy, you can't phase me\nI'm the S oh yes, I'm fresh, I don't fuck with the stress\nI'm all about the chronic, bionic ya see\nEvery single day, chillin' with the D-O-double-G's\nP-O-U-N-D that's my clique, my crew\nYou fuck with us, we gots to fuck you up\nI thought ya knew, but yet and still\nYa wanna get real, now it's time to peel, ya say chill\nAnd feel, the motherfuckin' realism\nSnoop Doggy Dogg is on the mic I'm hittin' hard as steel nigga\nYou might also like\nThis is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas\nThis is for the hustlas, now back to the Gz\nThis is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas\nThis is for the hustlas now back to the Gz\nHow many hoes in your motherfuckin group\nWanna take a ride in my 7-8 Coupe, DeVille\nChill, as I take you on a trip\nWhere them niggas ride, and slide, you know about the East Side\nNiggas like myself, here to show you where it's at\nWith my hoes on my side, and my strap on my back\nPapers I stack daily, and Death Row is still the label that pays me\nBut you know how that go\nWe flow toe for toe, if you ain't on the Row\nFuck you and your ho, really doe, so check it\nIt's Snoop Doggy Dogg on the solo tip\nStill clockin' grip, and don't really give a shiiit\nAbout nuttin' at all, just my Doggs, steppin' through the fog\nAnd I'm still gonna fade em all\nWith the gangsta shit that keeps ya hangin'\nHow many hoes in ninety-four will I be bangin'?\nEvery single one, to get the job done\nAs I dip, skip, flip, right back to two one\nWhere the sun be shinin' and I be rhymin'\nIt's me, Snoop D-O-double-G, and I'm climbin'\nThis is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas\nThis is for the hustlas, now back to the Gz\nThis is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas\nThis is for the hustlas now back to the Gz\nI come creepin' through the fog with my saggin' deuce\nEast Side, Long Beach, in a 7-8 Coupe DeVille\nI'm rollin' with the G Funk, bumpin' in my shit and it don't quit\nSo drop it on the one motherfucker put together that set\nA nigga with a grip of that gangsta shit\nWith the Eastside hoes on my motherfuckin' dick\nAnd the Compton niggas all about to set trip\nSwing it back, bring it back, just like this\nAnd if you with my shit, then blaze up another spliff\nAnd keep the motherfuckin' blunt in your pocket, loc\n'Cause Doggy Dogg is all about the zig zag smoke\nSee it's a West coast thing, where I'm from\nAnd if you want some, get some, bad enough, take some\nBut watch the gun by my side\nBecause it represents me and the motherfuckin' East Side\nSo bow down to the bow wow, 'cause bow wow\nYippie yo, you can't see my flow\nMy shit is dope, original, now you know\nAnd can't no hood fuck with Death Rizzow\nThis is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas\nThis is for the hustlas, now back to the Gz\nThis is for the Gz, and this is for the Hustlas\nThis is for the hustlas now back to the Gz--"}
{"text":"49 ContributorsPeaches N Cream Lyrics\nShe 'bout to go in\nShe likes that low end\nDamn, her ass is so big\nJust keep it bumpin'\nPeaches and cream\nUh-oh, there she go\nThat's that look all on her face\nShorty dancin\u2019 like she knows\nShe's the baddest in the place, hey, hey\nI wanna get with you (Freak, don't fail me now, hey)\nSo what you wanna do?\nGot her Freak-Um dress on\nThem New Bs on her feet\nAnd them bottles with the sparkles\nSo the other girls can see that she's paid\nI wanna get with you (Freak, don't fail me now, hey!)\nSo what you wanna do?\n\nShe too fly for words\nAnd where I'm at now I'm too high for birds\nShorty, what you think about my return\nCuz what he think about it ain't my concern\nI ain't come for you, I came for your Missus\nI don't do it for the haters, I do it for the players\nWell okay, I do it for the riches\nBut in the meantime and in-between time\nShorty right there gon' get it if she with it\nIf she ain't, then I know her partner down\n\u2018Cause her partner throwin\u2019 shots every time I turn around\nAnd her partner bringin\u2019 partners every time I come to town\nI'm a G6er, a Maybacher\nYou can tell the chauffeur he can park it right there\nAnd I'ma walk up to the club upstairs\nAnd when I come down he can bring it back; word\nYou might also like\nShe 'bout to go in\nShe likes that low end\nDamn, her ass is so big\nJust keep it bumpin'\nPeaches and cream\nUh-oh, there she go\nThat's that look all on her face\nShorty dancin\u2019 like she knows\nShe's the baddest in the place, hey, hey\nI wanna get with you (Freak, don't fail me now, hey)\nSo what you wanna do?\nGot her Freak-Um dress on\nThem New Bs on her feet\nAnd them bottles with the sparkles\nSo the other girls can see that she's paid\nI wanna get with you (Freak, don't fail me now, hey!)\nSo what you wanna do?\n\nI came to cut right now\nBigg Snoop Dogg and I came to get down\nYes, I'm internationally known\nLibra lovin' make you moan and groan\nBurn my gas like race cars\nTwo bad broads with the bass on\nI never met a girl that I'd wait for\nI seal my deal like Jay does\nAll that and then some\nPimp real for real when I win some\nI remember what you're thinkin\u2019\nBlack shades on, drinking while you're blinkin\u2019\nSomething fly, white limousine\nMake a clean getaway\nI loved your clothes, what you about\nThe way you let it out\nShe 'bout to go in\nShe likes that low end\nDamn, her ass is so big\nJust keep it bumpin'\nPeaches and Cream\nUh-oh, there she go\nThat's that look all on her face\nShorty dancin\u2019 like she knows\nShe's the baddest in the place, hey, hey\nI wanna get with you (Freak, don't fail me now, hey)\nSo what you wanna do?\nGot her Freak-Um dress on\nThem New Bs on her feet\nAnd them bottles with the sparkles\nSo the other girls can see that she's paid\nI wanna get with you (Freak, don't fail me now, hey)\nSo what you wanna do?\n\nEverybody in the world, here we go\nFill your body with the smoke, and that's the way to go\n\nShe 'bout to go in\nShe likes that low end\nDamn, her ass is so big\nJust keep it bumpin'\nPeaches and cream\nUh-oh, there she go\nThat's that look all on her face\nShorty dancin\u2019 like she knows\nShe's the baddest in the place, hey, hey\nI wanna get with you (Freak, don't fail me now, hey)\nSo what you wanna do?\nGot her Freak-Um dress\n"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsLay Low Lyrics\nYo what's Crip-a-lat'n, this big Snoop Dogg\nLeave your name and your number at the motherfucking beep\nIf this one of my hoes, two-way me\n\nAy ay Snoop whattup, this your nigga Dre\nAy man I was thinking I ain't said shit on your whole motherfucking album\nSo check it out, put this on there:\nAll you motherfucking haters out there, can suck my motherfucking dick!\nAnd we still smoking, what?!\n\nFor the nigga who be talking loud and holding his dick, talking shit\nHe better lay low\nFor the bitch that said I shot some shit up out of my dick, now she sick\nShe better lay low\nFor the niggas who be claiming my hood\nAnd really ain't from my gang, better lay low\nI hope he don't be thinking I'm just talking\nAnd I won't do a thing, really hope so\n\nLay low, nobody move until I say so\nLimo tint rolling deep like the President\nSee I don't go to clubs, I never chase a bitch\nI'm here to bang that gangsta shit till the apocalypse\nWe call it stress, some of y'all call it chocolate\nReturn of the Top Dogg, and ain't no stopping this\nWhatever the case, I ain't trying to catch it\nLay low, blow big dope, and slang records\nUnseen but well heard, do not disturb\nThe only reason you alive cause I ain't sent the word\nI flip, faster than birds, Snoop Dogg will emerge\nFrom the smoke and go loc, you shouldn't provoke\nI bring the worst from the L.B.C\nSmash motherfuckers thinking they gonna smash on me\nSnoop and Dre give a fuck about what y'all say\nFrom the World's Most Dangerous Group, N.W.A\nYou might also like\nOur rise, it was no surprise\nI always knew these fools would trip\nHating, faking, scheming on mine\nAnd on the down low talkin shit\nBest move cause I refuse to lose\nNo matter which damn road I choose\nSo lay low cause you might be bruised\nTop story on the evening news\nI ain't for games, so if you wanna play 'em lay low\nLay down on the floor\nI'm in a rage, so if we gotta do this let me know\nThat's what I came fo'\n\nWhere that nigga who be talking shit\nHe don't come around no more because I fucked his bitch\nI made her suck my dick, while I was squeezing the tits\nThen I hit it from the back, gripped tight on them hips\nShe tried to make me cum, but I was trying to take her home\nDropped her off and seen you fishing on your raggedy Brougham\nCoulda thumped you in your dome (you little fag)\nAnd don't sag too hard, you show everybody your thong\n\nBooyaka booyaka, we bring it straight to ya\nFrom 22's to Luger's the shit that shoot through ya\nWho you motherfuckers think the Top Dogg bang with\nThe same clique he came with and made the game flip\nNow niggas grow they hair, hold they stare and act hard\nThat's even tho' your CEO talk shit get slapped hard\nThe backyard is where we get our scrap on\nThe black car drive by then you get capped on\nWhassup pimping, it's P and Snoop\nWith Dre on the beat, this ain't nothing but loot\nThey call me Jed Clampett for all the bread I got\nBut they call me Bill Clinton for all the head I got\nI keeps it realer, cause I'm all about my scrilla\nThe ladies love me cause I'm a million dolla hitta\nIt's, No Limit til I D-I-E\nC-P-3, or Richmond, Cali's where I be\n\nFor the nigga who be talking loud and holding his dick, talking shit\nHe better lay low\nFor the bitch that said I shot some shit up out of my dick, now she sick\nShe better lay low\nFor the niggas who be claiming my hood\nAnd really ain't from my gang, better lay low\nI hope he don't be thinking I'm just talking\nAnd I won't do a thing, really hope so"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsSigns Lyrics\nI'm not sure what I see\nCupid, don't fuck with me\nAre you tellin' me this is a sign?\nShe's lookin' in my eyes, and I see no other guys\nAre you tellin' me this is a sign? Uncle Charlie (Oh)\nDon't think about it, boy, leave her alone (Ooh wee)\nNigga, you ain't no G\nShe likes my tone, my cologne and the way I roll\nYou ain't no G\n\nIt's legit, you know it's a hit\nWhen The Neptunes and the Doggy Dogg fin to spit\nYou know he's in tune with the season\nCome here baby, tell me why you leavin'?\nTell me if it's weed that you need\nIf you wanna breathe, I got the best weed minus seeds\nAin't nobody trippin', VIP they can't get in\nIf somethin' go wrong then you know we get to Crippin'\n\nI'm not sure what I see\nCupid, don't fuck with me\nAre you tellin' me this is a sign?\nShe's lookin' in my eyes, and I see no other guys\nAre you tellin' me this is a sign?\nDon't think about it, boy, leave her alone (Oh, oh, yeah!)\nNigga, you ain't no G\nShe likes my tone, my cologne and the way I roll\n(Do-do-do-do-do-do) You ain't no G\nYou might also like\nNow you stepping with a G, from Los Angeles\nWhere the helicopters got cameras\nJust to get a glimpse of our Chucks\nAnd our Khakis and our bouncin' cars\nYou with your friend, right? (Yeah)\nShe ain't tryna bring over no men, right? (No)\nShit, she ain't gotta be in the distance\nShe could get high all in an instant\n\nI'm not sure what I see\nCupid, don't fuck with me\nAre you tellin' me this is a sign?\nShe's lookin' in my eyes, and I see no other guys\nAre you tellin' me this is a sign? (Oh-oh-ooh)\nDon't think about it, boy, leave her alone (Oh, oh, yeah!)\nNigga, you ain't no G\nShe likes my tone, my cologne and the way I roll\n(Do-do-do-do-do-do) You ain't no G\n\nMami, Mamacita, have you ever flown on G5's\nFrom London to Ibiza? You gotta have cake to\nYou'll have Sundays with chiquitas\nYou'll see Venus and Serena, in the Wimbledon Arena\nAnd I can take you\n(Uncle Charlie, preach)\nNigga, don't be young and foolish\nYou don't know what you're doin'\nYou don't know what you lost until she's gone (Til she's gone)\nShe got a pretty face, drove you wild\nBut you ain't have that Snoop Doggy Dogg Style\n\nI'm not sure what I see\nCupid, don't fuck with me\nAre you tellin' me this is a sign?\nShe's lookin' in my eyes, and I see no other guys\nAre you tellin' me this is a sign? (Oh)\nDon't think about it, boy, leave her alone (Ooh, wee!)\nNigga, you ain't no G\nShe likes my tone, my cologne and the way I roll (Hey! Haha!)\nYou ain't no G\n\nOoh, wee!! Heeeeeee (You ain't no G, G...)\nOh-woah, oh-oh\nOoh, wee!! Heeeeeee"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsG Funk Intro Lyrics\nYeah, this is another story about dogs\nFor the dog that don't pee on trees is a bitch\nSo says Snoop Dogg\nSo you better get your pooper scooper 'cause the nigga's talkin' shit\nRoof! Roof! Roof! Roof! Roof!\n\nI'm sippin' on Tanqueray\nWith my mind on my money and my mouth fulla' gan-jay\nR-A-G to the motherfuckin' E\nBack with my nigga S-N-double-O-P\nYeah, and ya don't stop\nRage in effect, I just begun to rock\nI said, yeah, and ya don't quit\nHey-yo, Rage, would you please drop some gangsta shit?\nI rock rough and stuff with my afro puffs\nHandcuffed as I bust, 'bout to tear shit up\nOh, what? Did ya think I, didn't ever think I\nWould be the one to make you blink eye, I'm catchy like pink-eye\nNever will there ever be another like me, um\nYou can play the left 'cause it ain't no right in me\nOut the picture, out the frame, out the box I knock 'em all\nSmack 'em out the park, like \"A Friendly Game of Baseball\"\nGrand slam, yes, I am\nKickin' up dust and I don't give a goddamn\n'Cause I'm that lyrical murderer pleading guilty\nYou know from my skills I'm about to be\nFilthy, large, Rage in charge\nYou know what's happenin', don't try to play Raj\nThis ain't no re-run, see, hun, don't you wanna be one?\nHowever Rage'll wreck ya 'cause I'm def\nI kick my vocals, I loc yo, coast to coast or local, uh!\nI'll make 'em go coo-coo for my Cocoa\nPuffin' stuff, ayo, Snoop, you're up\nLet these niggas know that niggas don't give a fuck\nYou might also like\nThis is just a small introduction to the G-funk era\nEveryday of my life I take a glimpse in the mirror\nAnd I see motherfuckers tryna be like me\nEver since I put it down with the D-R-E\n\nFoamin' at the mouth and waggin' his tail\nSearchin through the yard with a keen sense of smell\nLookin' for the bitches in heat\nAnd when he find it he'll be sniffin her seat\nWe travel in packs and we do it from the back\nHow else can you get to the booty?\nWe do it doggystyle\nAll the while we do it doggystyle\nYo motherfuckin' hoe!\nHe fucked the fleas off the bitch, he shaked the ticks off his dick\nAnd in the booty, he buries his motherfuckin' bone\nAnd if there's any left over, he'll roll over and take a doggy bag home\nDamn, that Tanqueray is talkin' to a nigga\nI ain't bullshittin', one of y'all niggas gotta get it\nMan, I got to piss\nBreath test?"}
{"text":"4 ContributorsThug Life Lyrics\nWhy is there suddenly a nigga trippin' when I do it?\nWhy do everybody else gon' have a war, have beef\nWithin the music, talkin' about differences and it's ok\nIt's music it's hip-hop it's groundbreaking\nWhen I do it, it's war\n\nIn the city watch how I'm getting head with it\nShe do it with no hands and I be ghost whippin'\nOops I think I meant ghost riding\nWhen I get that vet watch how she let me slide in\nIn that pussy and you know I'm the livest\nIntroduced known to beat it up no crime man\nAnd I might leave your bae crying\nI'm so stressed out man all the homies fall in\nAnd if she let me hit, the homies all can\nAnd nigga if I'm eating it's all in one pan\n'Cause I'mma be as hungry as the last man\nA young  but I'm the nigga with the damn plan\nI keep it G like a crip in the '80s\nAnd man I beat your ass like a nigga in slavery\nThey say they're trying to help me but it sound like hate to me\nA young nigga, but I'm wise like Dr. King\nOn my own shit, get your own ends\nNiggas think they gettin' handouts 'cause we damn friends\nNigga put that spoon down better use your hands\nBetter get that grind right before you life ends\nAnd I ain't never had no love for a fake friend\nOr a fuck nigga, better duck nigga\nBetter hope one of them things don't get stuck in ya\n(Bbbbla) good luck nigga\nYou might also like\nSlip this with the crip stick\nItty bitty nigga with the slick shit\nIn a room full of misfits\nPlug it in, let it bang, yea my shit bitch\nGet bread like bisquick\nYou're a soft ass nigga with a face full of lipstick\nLet me show you how a crip dip\nGet ships and flips and take low trips\nI sipps that shit ain't talking 'bout lean\nDown to Mississippi and New Orleans\nWord as a motherfucka, let me verb that\nSnoop Dogg is a hog, yea I heard that\nYou deserve that swerve that 'lac\nMake it bang, let it go, bring that back\nI blew they brain, nephew yea do that thang\n\nLiving life in the maze it's amazing\nSo high I can levitate it's crazy\nI feel like I'm the nigga in the matrix\nI'm sipping codeine I feel like I'mma patient\nI stay dosed down off a medical blunt this ain't new\nCop a qp I blow it with lil Snoop\nBlowing smoke out the roof, hoes know we the truth\nGet the bitch loose than I make her do what it do\nPut the hole on the crew, word to \nI'm chopping real game, other niggas is goose\nAnd when I pass by the bitch she gon' know we the truth\n gang green and we're devoted to you\nWe brought base in your face to proof\nThe realest nigga out bitch give me the juice\nThey never hate a nigga when he spittin' the truth\nI gotta keep it real gotta stick to my roots\nTu-Tune in, you know my slang\nMe and my niggas doing our thing and we all gon' win\nFucking these models and fucking they friends\nGot more hoes than Snoop and Prince\nPimpin' nigga, look at my hands\nGold rings on my fingers\nYoung nigga and I'm hella dangerous\nLike a lethal injection, ballers on it\nYea that's me section, getting money\nYea that's the only objection\nChrome everywhere so I see my reflections\nWest West, hold it down for Texas\nYellow diamonds on my necklace\nPretty bitches getting naked\nYoung nigga living reckless\nLike 21 guns for protection\n\nBeen done with that fast life\nSo it was on to the thug life\nAin't no bet, but I could never love my wife\nLike I love my life I never love ya twice\nI fell in love one night still lost in the days in a major way\nI be blazed for days, like Johnny\nMobbing in the  lane, it's my hobby\nWe savvy, real nigga say savvy\nLooking for them bitches take them at a track meet\nDeep dig bandit she run into my canyon\nDabbin' blowing like a candle, savvy\nWoodgrain whippin' in the valley\nReal OG I'm nothing like my daddy\nFew kids on the way I'm happy\nRaw dog, and I'm learning with a passion\nOhh, didn't y'all go to school\nI'm reachin' and preachin' and teachin' the youth\nThey all in my business I'm feeling like Snoop\nBut I'm more like Pac learn a life lesson but I might get shot\nI'm spreading the message that's all that I got\nWe pray for progression and stick to the plot\nI'm feeling like Yoda my knowledge is hot\nI see myself changing the world\nBecause my thought patterns are so opposite of the norm\nSo I will have to change the world\nOr I will have to be changed by the world"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsImagine Lyrics\nYo Doc, what up my nigga?\nSnoop Dogg, this is what it is mane\nThis record is so motherfuckin' gangsta man\nI think it's time for me and you to just, tone it down a bit\nCome on\n\nImagine it never happened\nImagine no rappin'\nImagine niggas trapped imagining having action\nImagine how these niggas could be actin' if we never got this shit crackin'\nImagine life's so hard\nYou can't imagine, it's like livin' in the City of God, you feel me?\nImagine life on the yard\nOr tryna get that dollar on some shitty ass job\nImagine Biggie with his son\nImagine Pac gettin' called \"Pop\" by one\nImagine a mother struggling\nDealing with a system that don't give a fuck about who shot her son, hm\nImagine life where you can't win\nWhen you get out of the ghetto and go right to the pen\nWhen you get out to the pen, you go right to the gin\nSo if you get back to the streets, you go right back in, hm\nImagine Russell still struggling\nNo Def Jam, just another nigga hustlin'\nAnd ain't no rocks on them fellas\nJust rocks on them fellas, just tryna keep it bubblin'\nImagine niggas just stuck\nFrom the East to the West Coast, everybody fucked up\nI can't imagine no less\nBut it don't take imagination to know niggas been blessed with hip-hop\nYou might also like\nBefore we go, can you imagine?\nWith your ears, clear your mind, can you imagine?\nPaint a picture in the sky, can you imagine? (Oh, heeee)\nLord have mercy, I've been dreamin' all my life\n\nCan you imagine being lit up by some hot shells?\nImagine being tossed around and put in jail\nImagine life when you can't get from under\nImagine niggas at ya when you done fo'\nRemember how they asked you, \"What you run for?\" and treat ya like a bitch\nWhen they kick you in your dick and take your shit\nReactin' like they hate to see you gung-ho\nBut just imagine if the rabbit got the gun though, but you already know\nImagine niggas in the LBC\nFelt just like Snoop Dogg and D-R-E\nAnd felt just like them niggas in the 2-1-3\nThen imagine that's what's coming when you fuckin' with me\nImagine you was up on top of this shit\nImagine if the bitches could stay off this dick\nI mean, imagine we said, \"Fuck this shit\"\nImagine if my niggas got together and tore up this bitch, yeah\nYou can't imagine growing up in jail dumb\nHappy just to be alive, watching all your people run\nWould you imagine growing up to sell you\nFifty million records worldwide or fuckin' off somebody's son?\nImagine if these niggas never saw a color\nWould it be peaceful in them streets where niggas kill each other?\nAll a drunk fool get is pissed-on balls\nKeep fuckin' off my niggas, they gone murder us all\nImagine that\nBefore we go, can you imagine?\nWith your ears, clear your mind, can you imagine?\nPaint a picture in the sky, can you imagine? (Oh, heeee)\nLord have mercy, I've been dreamin' all my life, all my life\nBefore we go, can you imagine?\nWith your ears, clear your mind, can you imagine?\nPaint a picture in the sky, can you imagine? (Oh, heeee)\nLord have mercy, I've been dreamin' all my life, all my life\n\nImagine, imagine\nYeah, yeah, oh yeah, ow\nCan you imagine? Uh\nCan you imagine? Hm, ah\nCan you imagine?\nImagine, imagine, yeah, ooh\n\n\"In the name of Allah, in the name of God\nThe beneficent, the merciful\nThe one God to whom all praise is due\nRegardless of land, labor, or title\nNo matter what name you call God by\nWhenever life seems hard\nEverybody know that you must\ufeff talk to God\""}
{"text":"62 ContributorsPump Pump Lyrics\nOh shit, is, is that Snoop over there? Oh shit\n(Fuck that nigga, bitch, my name is Sam Sneed, you better recognize)\nAyo, uh, I'm sorry, I just love that nigga\nHe is so fine, his music is so fucking dope (man, fuck that nigga)\nAyy, look Samuel, I gotta go pee, I'll be right back alright? (Yeah, aight)\nOh shit\nYo Snoop, what's up Snoop? (Yo, hold on)\nHey, how you doing? (Yo, what's happening?)\nYo, Snoop, you know, I just love your shit\nYou are just so fine, and you- (ayo bitch)\n(Bring your black ass back over, what the fuck's wrong with you?)\n(Yo, what's happening? Is that your nigga or something?) Ay\nLook check this shit out, that nigga, he don't run me, okay?\nI'm talking to you, let's- (yeah, what's up nigga?)\n(What the fuck's wrong with you?) Man\nYo, nigga, what's happening fool?\nYou know the name of the game, yo' bitch chose me\nNigga, we can handle this like some gentleman or we can get into some gangsta shit\n(Well what's up nigga?) Have it your motherfucking way\n(Well what' up?)\nThat's what's up, nigga\n\nPump Pump, Pump Pump, Pump Pump, Pump Pump\nPump Pump\nYou might also like\nLet the motion of your body be the key 'cause we\nBe the motherfuckin G Funk family\nNow, I'll play the G in this deadly game\nSnoop Dogg is the name, Dogg Pound's the gang\nIf it ain't one thing, it's a motherfuckin' 'nother\nWord to my granny and my daddy and my mother\nWhether standin on the corner or bouncin in the six-deuce\nWhen I was locked up, I couldn't wait to get loose\n'Cause back in the days, on the side where it's at\nA nigga had to have a fat stack\nAnd I was a fool, don't make me have to grab my strap and go\nRat-tat-tat-tat, nigga slap to a motherfucker face he fall\nCan't none of y'all niggas see the Doggy Dogg\n'Cause I'm one rude bwoy comin with the wickedness\nSo shut the fuck up, and listen while I'm kickin this\n\nBlam blam, blam to dem all\nListen to the shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump pump)\nBlam blam, blam to dem all\nListen to the shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump pump)\nDi, di di di da di da, di di di di da\nDi di di di da (pump, pump)\nDi di di da, di, di di di di da\nDi, di di di da, di, di di di da (pump, pump)\nNow you can look to the Sun and spot the moon\nAnd see Snoop Doggy Dogg step into the room\nWith the G funk, he funk, she funk, we funk\nFollow me, follow me, listen to the words that a nigga (pump pump)\nI come down with the wickedness\nOne rude bwoy comin with the dopeness (blam!)\nClose your eyes 'cause you can't see me\nI quit school 'cause of recess, you fuckin B.G\nI'm shakin up the party, like Lodi Dodi\nIs he the dopest? You better aks somebody\nWhen, then, send some gin\nAnd a pack of zig zags now let the games begin\nIn nineteen-motherfuckin-ninety-three\nI'm fuckin up every nigga known in the industry\nCheck this out, it's a Dogg Pound thang\nYou know who I am you know my motherfuckin name, who am I?\n(The S-N-Double-O-P) nickname (Silky Slim) last name (D-O-double-G)\nThe behavior and the flavor that I found\nMakes me wanna hit that ass up with the Dogg Pound\n\nBlam blam, blam to dem all\nListen to the shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump pump)\nBlam blam, blam to dem all\nListen to the shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump pump)\nDi da, di di di da di da, di-di di da, di di di da di da (Blam!)\nDi da, di di di da di da, di-di di da (Blam!) ba-da-bam! Ba-ba-ba-bam!\n\nNow just back up, don't act up, I pack up much heat\nAny battle I'm in, I win, I can't be beat\nDon't sleep while I creep peep out my technique\nI forgot, I'm out of sight so you can't see the\nMC of the year, you hear and you fear\nI got somethin for them niggas in the front and the rear\nI handle the sides, did a driveby in the who-ride\nI'm satisfied now everything is really alright\nYou know when I come nigga I come wicked\nDon't need no permission, motherfucker I'ma kick it\nNiggas sweat my shit I wet 'em up with the biscuit\nLick 'em up shot, it don't stop, till dem all drop\nMake up your mind, go pop or slang rocks\nJust stop, ridin' on the next nigga's jock\nI'm strapped with my Glock on your block\nAnd ready to let loose on the first imitator that I spot\n\nBlam blam, blam to dem all\nListen to the shots from my nigga Doggy Dogg (pump pump)\n\nDi da, di di di da di da, di-di di da, di di di da di da da\nDa di di da, da da da di di da da\nDa di di da, da da da di di da-\nDa di di da, da da da di di da da\nDa di di da, da da da di di da da\nBa-da-bam! Calm down, the shows over..."}
{"text":"12 ContributorsStep Yo Game Up Lyrics\nYeah man what's going on man it's really really pimpin' up in here man\nI know you ain't seen pimpin' in a long time man, I've been MIA\nYou know what I'm sayin' missin' in action\nI ain't been on no milk carton box\nBut I've been milking and boxing these bitches\nCause they got to step they game up, you know what I mean?\n\nWhat you lookin' at? (step yo game up!)\nWhat you waitin' for? (step yo game up!)\nGo on, come on in the door (step yo game up!)\nDrop it to the floor and just (step yo game up!)\nYou a kid (step yo game up!)\nYou drink gin (step yo game up!)\nIs that your friend? (step yo game up!)\nTell a nigga you with you finna (step yo game up!)\n\nBreak it down bitch, let me see you back it up\nDrop that ass down low then pick that motherfucker up\nBreak it down bitch, let me see you back it up\nDrop that ass down low then pick that motherfucker up\nBack that pussy tease a motherfucker\nBack that pussy tease a motherfucker\nBack that pussy tease a motherfucker\nBack that pussy tease a motherfucker\nRub that shit it's yours bitch, grab this dick it's yours bitch\nRub that shit it's yours bitch, grab this dick it's yours bitch\nNow turn around bitch, put that ass on a nigga\nGrind on his dick make it get a little bigger\nNow turn around bitch, put that ass on a nigga\nGrind on his dick and take out his figures\nYou might also like\nWhat you lookin' at? (step yo game up!)\nWhat you waitin' for? (step yo game up!)\nGo on, come on in the door (step yo game up!)\nDrop it to the floor and just (step yo game up!)\nYou a kid (step yo game up!)\nYou drink gin (step yo game up!)\nIs that your friend? (step yo game up!)\nTell a nigga you with you finna (step yo game up!)\n\nBitch wanna act like she ain't never been with\nFast lane pimpin' on, the nails with the French tip\nPotato chip yup with a French dip\nSay she wanna French kiss all on my diznick\nIt's cool, go on and break fool if you have to\nWhat which you won't do bitch I'mma slap you\nStay in line ho it's a pimp affair\nIf you down to get low I can take you there\nBut you can't fake once you hit the gate\nShake till it ache, work that birthday cake\nYou say you wanna make it ho (make it)\nWell quit bullshittin' and get naked ho\nNow you always got to be hot and vicious\nSo move them biscuits and hit them tricks, bitch\nNow you got about a minute to fix this\nCuz I'm trying to find a bitch that's bootylicious\nWhat you lookin' at? (step yo game up!)\nWhat you waitin' for? (step yo game up!)\nGo on, come on in the door (step yo game up!)\nDrop it to the floor and just (step yo game up!)\nYou a kid (step yo game up!)\nYou drink gin (step yo game up!)\nIs that your friend? (step yo game up!)\nTell a nigga you with you finna (step yo game up!)\n\nP-U-S-S-Y, run the world, I'm the girl in the flesh, ah\nLookin' for a nigga that will suck me like a blow pop\nRun that dick to the door, do me baby don't stop\nSame nigga talkin' all that shit\nJust a little bitch, little balls, little dick\nLet me show you how to work your tongue like a hurricane\nWe ain't here to play no games, baby give me everything\nI know you like me when I drop it down low\nShow it from the back, look back, let it roll\nDrop it to the floor like a G bitch supposed to\nShake it shake it shake it make a nigga go postal\nBut that's for fucking with a Miami girl\nGet your man, take his money, and then buy the world\nSo nigga don't front, cuz fat wallets and big dicks is all I want\nWhat you lookin' at? (step yo game up!)\nWhat you waitin' for? (step yo game up!)\nGo on, come on in the door (step yo game up!)\nDrop it to the floor and just (step yo game up!)\nYou a kid (step yo game up!)\nYou drink gin (step yo game up!)\nIs that your friend? (step yo game up!)\nTell a nigga you with you finna (step yo game up!)\n\nChuuuch, Preach, Tabernacle\nChuuuch, Preach, Tabernacle\nChuuuch, Preach, Tabernacle\nChuuuch, Preach, Tabernacle\nChuuuch, Preach, Tabernacle\nChuuuch, Preach, Tabernacle\nChuuuch, Preach, Tabernacle\nChuuuch, Preach, Tabernacle\n\nWhat you lookin' at? (step yo game up!)\nWhat you waitin' for? (step yo game up!)\nGo on, come on in the door (step yo game up!)\nDrop it to the floor and just (step yo game up!)\nYou a kid (step yo game up!)\nYou drink gin (step yo game up!)\nIs that your friend? (step yo game up!)\nTell a nigga you with you finna (step yo game up!)"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsPimp Slapp\u2019d Lyrics\nW-Balls, it's your main man DJ E-Z Dick\nAbout to unleash another one of those platnum plus hits\nAnd the word is on the streets, and the word is the streets\nWe gon go to a live remote, licking wit my main man Mr Doggy Dogg\n\nA day in the life, of a Rollin' 20 Crip\nI'm just a stubborn type of fella with a head like a brick\nNow just because I sip Moet, they say that I'm hopeless\nBut I don't give a fuck, so blame it on the loc'ness\nNow this is how we do it when we checking the grip\nSnoop Dogg is in this bitch, so don't even trip\nI bust a funky composition that's as smooth as a prism\nSo check it while I kick off in this funky-ass rhythm\nIt's six dub, the phone is ringing off the deck\nAnd it's some homies talking about I disrespected they set\nAww nah, Dogg ain't diss y'all\nI got a couple relatives up off of Crenshaw\nThis is about me and Simon, not me and y'all\nI got love for a bunch of real B-Dogs\nLike K-Dub, Top Cat, B-Real, E-Rock, Boo-Lay Face\nAnd the homie Heron rest in peace\nBig Jay from Campanella Park\nHe used to blaze with his nephew after dark\nOn and on, rocking big Neckbone\nMausberg I had to put you on my song\nIt's so real, I had to show some love\nNow back to this scrub, it ain't about Crip or Blood\nIt's about you bein' jealous of what I does\nCause I does it the most, the king of the coast\nIn the paint playin' post - I back you down\nLike Shaq-Daddy, and bust on ya out the new Caddy\nAnd skirt up Wilshire Boulevard\nI'm not Xzibit, you can't pull my ho card,,,\nI fucked all your groupies\nWhen you was doing time in Camp Snoopy\nWith the fags and snitches, no killers just bitches\nAnd you was payin' niggas off with all my riches,,,\nYou so hardco', why you ain't go to level fo'?\nOh I know (bitch!)\nBut I walk the mainline every time I go down\nYou can check my G Files I do it L.B.C. style\nI got the word on you Simon\nYou need to just start rhymin'\nCause you the biggest star on your label\nAnd them other niggas just crumbs off my table\nYou're not able, to compete with the heat that I drop\nAnd I still ain't been paid, for \"1-8-7 on a cop\"\nI started yo' shit and I will end yo' shit\nIf you keep talkin shit on Crip!\nYou might also like\nIt all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (Jealous ass nigga)\nIt all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (don't get pimp slapped)\nIt all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (jealous ass nigga)\nIt all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (don't get pimp slapped)\nMoney, get it\nPaper, I got it\nI got to do it\nHeaters, I keep 'em\nBitches, I got 'em\nRun up, ya get done up, I stay one up\nMoney, I get it\nPaper, I got it\nHuh, I got to do it\nHeaters, I keep 'em\nBitches, I got 'em\nRun up, ya get done up, I stay one up\n\nIf I shoot you, I'll be brainless, and you'll be famous\nAnd I'll be spending money out the anus\nYour only gain is to try to get me to fall down to your level\nMan you worse than them devils\nAlotta niggas should've said it, fuck em\nBut I'ma say it for em, stop it, pop it, rewind and play it for em\nThis nigga's a bitch like his wife\nSuge Knight's a bitch, and that's on my life\nAnd I'ma let the whole world see\nCause you fucked up the industry, and that's on me\nWe can go head up, nigga, set it up\nOr we can do the other thing, I love to wet it up\nYour rappers and artists, tell 'em, shut it up\n'Cause I'll fuck every last one of 'em up, especially Kurupt (shhhhhhh)\nSee that's my lil homeboy, so he knows what's up (what's up),\nHe better keep it Crippin', and slip his clip in\nCause these niggas trippin', this is official business\nDo the same way, leave no witnesses\nThis is that unexpected, misdirected, sprayed, covered and protected\nStrip you butt naked, chicky-check-check-it\nIt's all to the good again\nYou can catch Snoopy D.O. double in the hood again (Eastside)\nSpinning that real times, spitting that real shit\nTo make the whole world feel it (feel it)\nSo put the bacon in the skillet (hahaha), and try to peel it\nCause Doggystyle Records is the realest, nigga\nIt all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (jealous ass nigga)\nIt all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (don't get pimp slapped)\nIt all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (jealous ass nigga)\nIt all boils down to the fact that you're jealous how my paper stack (don't get pimp slapped)\nMoney, get it\nPaper, I got it (I got to do it)\nHeaters, I keep 'em\nBitches, I got 'em\nMoney, I get it\nPaper, I got it\nJealous ass nigga\n(don't get pimp slapped)\nHm hm hm hm\n\nAy Snoop what's up dog\nAy this Big Jim Bob from Campanella Park homie\nUhhh I know I ain't seen you in awhile boy\nI ain't seen you since 'bout, uhhh, shitttt\nSee about 92, 93 or some old shit like that man but uhhh\nThis Jacob big brother homie\nUhh, got much love for you boy, just heard the little cut you put out, uhhh, the other day\nYou know, uhh, I got much love for you boy\nAnd like you said man expose that big old, fake-ass nigga Simon man\nThat nigga ain't never been from the streets man\nI seen, I met that nigga in 90 man that nigga popped up, I don't know where that nigga came from\nBut anyway this Jim Bob from Campanella Park homie\nUhh, Mausberg, uhh, big home boy and Jay big brother\nSo uhhh, you know I'll holla at you later out there on the streets man\nI see you man keep your head up boy\nAnd niggas over   got your back dog\nAlright\nOne love big homie\nKeep it straight\nEnd of message"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsBoss\u2019 Life Lyrics\nSome of 'em lie about the shit they got and what they do on the block\nSome of 'em lie about the guns they pop\nBut I don't, I don't, I don't, I don't\nThat's how it is for me cause I live a boss' life\nSo many niggas wanna play but still got dues to pay\nSome of 'em gotta beg a bitch to stay\nBut I don't, I don't, I don't, I don't\nThat's how it is for me cause I live a boss' life\nNow this is for the B's and the C's, and the D's and the H's\nAnd the G's puttin' work in overseas\nAt ease with the Doggy and smoke some weed\nFuck it, if my nigga detoxing, it's more for me\nBaby this is presidential really, a pocket full of women\nUnderstanding how I'm living, show them hoes how you winning\nIt's the beginning with the pearls you're given\nThe world soft like linen and sweet like cinnamon\nBut everyday like 50 say, it's Many Men\nThey wanna take me out the spot, they want the pussy and the ends\nBut separate the paper and the Benz and the cribs\nThen the hoes, then the clothes, I'mma have to let 'em go\nYou know how the Dogg roll, don't get it twisted\nCause he bang out the East just in case you wanna visit\nA touch of the exquisite, mixed with somethin' pimpish\nAnd it's comin' from the Beach where them niggas is a beast\nBut I just listen, all that shit is in my past\nI'm connected to the purse first nigga, the ass last\nFrom Long Beach to Venice is the premise\nWant the green like spinach and I'm strong to the finish\nYou might also like\nSee me man, I'm nothin like you\nI got the kinda swagger that you ain't used to\nI'm leanin' in my ride, fo' fifth, cock bangin'\nMe, I'm ridin' by ya on the corner, block slangin'\nI'm livin' that boss' life\nThe hoes come runnin' when they see me comin'\nI'm livin' that boss' life\nYou can have anything just don't fuck with my money\n\nThis is for the West and the East and the Dirty South\nKhaki's and them Timbs and them niggas with the platinum mouths\nThinkin' that they blessed by the actions that be comin' out\nWhen you in Magic City you be carrying a lot of clout\nBut trickin' ain't the route, that's even if you got it\nThere's a method to you holdin it when they can't do without it\nJust put the key up in it nigga if she 'bout it\nYou can have her and her partner, fuckin' with it for a dolla\nIf she a baller, she gon' ride with a shot caller\nRoll with the Boss Dogg in the back of a blue Impala\nAnd if she follow, then she gon' swallow\nAll the game you got to give her, be a different bitch tomorrow\nBut I would never bother breakin' out the Doggfather\n'less I knew that she was 'bout him, havin' diamonds on his collar\nI'm just an author, spreading game to my partners\nWalkin' on the blue carpet with the Doctor\nSee me man, I'm nothin like you\nI got the kinda swagger that you ain't used to\nI'm leanin' in my ride, fo' fifth, cock bangin'\nMe, I'm ridin' by ya on the corner, block slangin'\nI'm livin' that boss' life\nThe hoes come runnin' when they see me comin'\nI'm livin' that boss' life\nYou can have anything just don't fuck with my money"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsGz Up, Hoes Down Lyrics\nYeah, what's happening?\nThis one is dedicated to my niggas\nAll my niggas out there, G's up, hoes down\n\nLadies and gents, playas and pimps listen\nSnoop Doggy Dogg on the mic, pay attention\nOne, two, oh what shall I do?\nI'm slipping on my khaki suit (Which one?)\nThe blue one, gun by my side as I mob to the beach\nOn a mission and I'm fishing for my DJ Warren G\nNow as I look for the bud sack\nAnd see where my loves at on the lake where the doves at\nCognac is the drink that's drank by G's\nSagging like a mothafucka, khakis to they knees\nBitch please, you know how we do the undercover\nI'm Snoop Doggy Dogg, not your average motherfucka, see\n\nSome of you don't know about the G thang, baby\nIt's the smooth gangsta shit that be driving ya crazy\nNow as ya groove to the beat and ya move to the sound\nI'mma hit ya up with the Pound, G's up, hoes down\n\nWill all the real G's, please stand up\nAnd let all be accounted for\nAnd if you don't give a fuck about a bitch\nThen you're rolling with the Row\nYou might also like\nBack with the one, two, three, and to the fo'\nIt's the S-N, O and to the O, P\n(Why am I so fly?) I don't know, but\n(Why am I so high?) It's the Indo\n\nI don't fuck with the pocus, everbody knows this\nFucking with The Chronic cause The Chronic gives me dopeness\nNow focus your eyes on these, follow me\nAs I take ya rolling with the real OG's\nEast Side is the motherfuckin' place, known as home\nDoggy Dogg with my bone in my hand, twenty grand and\n\nSome of you don't know about the G thang, baby\nIt's the smooth gangsta shit that be driving ya crazy\nNow as ya groove to the G-funk and ya move to the sound\nI'mma hit ya up with the Pound, G's up, hoes down\n\nWill all the real G's, please stand up\nAnd let all be accounted for\nAnd if you don't give a fuck about a bitch\nThen you're rolling with the Row\nHell yeah, you know what I'm saying?\nThis is stricly for the G's, you know I'm saying? Fuck that, bitch\nNiggas always handcuffing that ho\nWhen a nigga like me steps in the place\nI don't want that ho, I don't love that ho\nI'm caught up with my greens\nCollard greens, Indo and the cash flow\nYou know what I'm saying? Peace, G's up, hoes down"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsLet\u2019s Get Blown Lyrics\nYessir!\n\nCan I get more thrills?\nYou know you want some more girl, so come on, yeah\nCan I get more thrills?\nYou know you want some more girl, so come on\nLet's get blooooooown!\nLet's get blooooooown!\n\nI'm just looking, mm-mm-mm\nLooking at the ladies\nAll of them fly\nI don't know which one I want, dawg\nI can't make up my mind, girl\n\nSo won't you make it easy on me?\nAnd take this drink, then hit this weed\nTwo step wit me, let's slip to the dance floor\nOn and on and on and on we go\nI'll dip you if you want me to\nYou see I really wanna get a little front with you\nBiggidy bump with you\nA nigga wanna hump you, and then just comfort you\nAnd then I'll pop the top\nAnd lay you on the cot, and get you nice and hot\nYeah yeah, it's all to the real\nWe could do it like Guy, come on girl, let's chill\nYou might also like\nCan I get more thrills?\nYou know you want some more girl, so come on, yeah\nCan I get more thrills?\nYou know you want some more girl, so come on\nLet's get blooooooown!\nLet's get blooooooown!\n\nCome on baby, let's get blown, mm\nNow you can fly the friendly skies\nWith the S-N double O-P, D-O double G-Y\nNow don't ask why\nJust keep looking good in the hood, damn girl, you so fly\nWe could do what you want to\nYou say you drink Alize, or was is Malibu?\nIt don't really matter though\nYou remind me of the time when I had a ho\nShe kept telling me, \"Doggy Dogg, I gotta go\"\nSo I let her get in the wind and cold macked her friend\nTwo plus two, it equals four\nThis is some shit that could last forever more\nI'm tryna put my bid in\nNaw I'm just kidding, come on ma, get in\nAnd don't ask where we going, pimping and hoeing\nDrink pouring and weed blowing, you know it, come on!\nCan I get more thrills?\nYou know you want some more girl, so come on, yeah\nCan I get more thrills?\nYou know you want some more girl, so come on\nLet's get blooooooown!\nLet's get blooooooown!\n\nCome here baby, lemme holla at you real quick\nI've been looking at you, from the corner of my eyes\nChecking out your hips, lips, tips and your thighs\nI've been wanting to do you, for a mighty long time\nYou make a pimp wanna sing \"I-I-I\"\n\nWe'll head to the hills, your dreams I'll fulfill\nWe could do it how you want cause I'm oh so real\nTell me you, naw I won't squeal\nYou wit Da Big Boss Dogg so seal the deal\nPharrell got the Babyface\nAnd Dogg got the Whip Appeal, so name the place\nThis love I bring to you, on the real baby girl\nWon't you do me a favor and sing for Snoop?\n\nCan I get more thrills?\nYou know you want some more girl, so come on, yeah\nCan I get more thrills?\nYou know you want some more girl, so come on\nLet's get blooooooown!\nLet's get blooooooown!\nDamn, you know you want it (if I got it, I'ma give it to you)\nSo come and get it (if I got it, I'ma give it to you)\nIf I got it (If I got it, I'ma give it to you)\nThen you can get it (ya know)\nHey! Ohh\nCan I get more thrills? Can I get more thrills"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsSensual Seduction Lyrics\nI'm gonna take my time\nShe gon' get hers before I\nI'm gonna take it slow\nI'm not gonna rush the stroke\n\nSo she can get a sensual seduction\nSo I can get a sensual seduction\nSo we can get a sensual seduction\nSensual seduction, woah, woah\n\nShe might be with him but she's thinking 'bout me, me, me\nWe don't go to the mall, we don't go out to eat, eat, eat\nAll that we ever do is play in the sheets, sheets, sheets\nSmoke us a cigarette, then go back to sleep, sleep, sleep\n'Cause we done got a\n\nSensual seduction\nSensual seduction, woah, woah\nSensual seduction\nSensual seduction, woah\n\nI'm gonna take my time\nShe gon' get hers before I\nI'm gonna take it slow\nI'm not gonna rush the stroke\nYou might also like\nIf ya don't know by now, Doggy Dogg is a freak, freak, freak\nI keep a bad bitch with me, seven days out the week, week, week\nAnd all that we ever do is play in the sheets, sheets, sheets\nThen smoke us a cigarette, and go back to sleep, sleep, sleep\n'Cause we done got a\n\nSensual seduction\nSensual seduction, woah, woah\nSensual seduction\nSensual seduction, woah\n\nI was all in da club, havin' a drink, blowin' on a sweet\nWhen I peeped this little freak out\nI was all in the bar, wind drift up, Shawty Redd came on\nThen she hit the floor, now\nWith a see through dress, long hair, light brown eyes\nLookin' like Miss Bo Peep\nAnd a playa know if I take her home, with them real big hips\nYou so right I'm gon' beat\nSo I approached the chick with the real pretty face\nNice curves on her with a little bitty waist\nI whispered in her ear, \"Lil' mama, what you drink?\nI know that you're a freak but you know that I ain't gon' say shh\"\nSee my game is outrageous\nI got her to the crib and exchanged some love faces\nBut it was no need for me to rush to bust one\n'Cause I wanted her to have an eruption\nSensual seduction\nSensual seduction, woah\nSensual seduction\nSensual seduction, woah, woah\n\nSensual seduction\nAll the time, anytime\nSensual seduction"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsGangbangin\u2019 101 Lyrics\nWest Coast, it's time to stand up nigga\nWe gon' unite 'round this motherfucker one time\nI'm callin' every real Crip nigga\nAnd every real B-Dogg, to the table right now\nYeah, we gon' push a real line right now\nSee if y'all with this real gangsta guerrilla shit\n\nHave you ever seen 100,000 rip riders from the side\nBlue Chuck's, blue rags, grey clouds, blue skies\nOn the move, can't lose, Hill Street blues\nNiggas gotta pay they dues on the crews or with the uzi spray\nThese suckas then I cruise, my granny saw it on the news\nShe shook up, look up and then she put me on the move\nI tried to get away, but I couldn't get far\n'Cause the homies had the loop-loop that night at King Park\nAnd I got into a squab, got caught and went to jail\nStraight to the County with no motherfuckin' bail\n4800 with this Crippin', oh well\nMy big homie Boy Blue snatched me by my coattail\nHe said trip Dogg, ya better get right, Crip right\nEyes open cause niggas get stuck on seez-ight\nIt ain't no motherfuckin' problem - pop-pop, tick-tock\nNever flip-flop, 20 crippin' til I drop\nYou might also like\nCa-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip\nSu-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop\nCa-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip\nSu-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop\nCa-rip\n\nIs I, in the motherfuckin' S-5\nWith the red bandana double knotted 'round the rearview\nNiggas see clear through, they know that it's Game\nCherry red Lowenhart's let 'em know that I bang\nSo bang, like Snoop in \"Deep Cover\"\nI got the seat reclined, fo-five under the white-T, smothered\nDippin' down Green Leaf, I ain't got no enemies\nBeen shot five times, now I bleed Hennessy\nAnd bang for my niggas locked up, they can't stop us\nIt ain't a gangsta party 'til we go and dig Pac up\nI'm Dr. Martin Luther King with two guns on\nHughey P. Newton with Air Force One's on\nI gangbang but I'm the opposite of Tookie Williams\nRed Lambo', red bandana print ceilin'\nMe and Snoop got the West Coast locked\nRed and blue rag tied in a knot\nWith all my motherfuckin' homies yellin' out\nSu-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop\nCa-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip\nSu-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop\nCa-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip\nCa-rip\n\nI ran outta gas in Long Beach, I'm stuck\nAin't no Bloods and all I see is blue Chuck's\nHopped out the '6-trey, nowhere to go\nTil' Snoop pulled up in that Pittsburgh Steeler '6-4\nWe just dippin', one Bloodin' one Crippin'\nI'm on that Bulls shit, throwback Scott' Pippen\nMoral is, my bandana hangin' from the left side\nSo if you ain't a Crip or a Blood, just throw up Westside\n\n(What up Blood?) Yeah cuz, we just tippin'\nMe and Game doin' thangs, switchin' lanes, Hurricanes on my feet\nStop, and C-Walk to the beat\nGame, take the wheel and turn on 21st Street\nEastside LBC, gun in my hand\nIt's the turf by the surf but we don't play in the sand\nWe just - slip and slide out, we rip and ride out\nLet it C known, nigga welcome to the Thunderdome\nCa-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip\nSu-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop\nCa-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip, Ca-rip\nSu-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop\nSu-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop, su-whoop"}
{"text":"25 ContributorsW Balls Lyrics\n(Radio Static)\nThat was the Dogg Pound here right on W Balls\n187.4 on your FM dial\nYou're tuned in to the biggest balls of them all: DJ Saul T. Nuts\nAye, don't forget about my homeboy EZ Dicc and the Jackoff Hour\nThat's happening at twelve o'clock tonight\nRight now we got some new Snoop Doggy Dogg for that ass\nThis one is called \"Tha Shiznit\"\nYou're about to go downtown bitch\nRight here on the station that plays only platinum hits\nThat's 187.4 on your FM dial\nIf you're licking, that's W Balls\n(Radio Static)\nEverybody's got to hear the shit, on W Balls, W Balls, W BallsYou might also like"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsP.I.M.P. Remix Lyrics\nShit ya did it again my nigga\nFor shizzle dizzle\n\nF-I-F-T-Y C-E-N-T and S-N double O-P\nWe internationally known and locally respected\nNow I know you done heard about me\nF-I-F-T-Y C-E-N-T and S-N double O-P\nWe internationally known and locally respected\nNow I know you done heard about me\nI'm a P-I-M-P\n\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm cause I'm a G\nAnd I'm a motherfuckin' C-R-I-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a crumb up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm and I'm a G\nAnd I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\n\n\nYo that shit is crazy Whoo Kid\nRewind that, play that back\nYou might also like\nF-I-F-T-Y C-E-N-T and S-N double O-P\nWe internationally known and locally respected\nNow I know you done heard about me\nF-I-F-T-Y C-E-N-T and S-N double O-P\nWe internationally known and locally respected\nNow I know you done heard about me\nI'm a P-I-M-P\n\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm cause I'm a G\nAnd I'm a motherfuckin' C-R-I-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a crumb up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm and I'm a G\nAnd I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\n\nYeah bitch I got my Now and Later gators on\nI'm bout to show you how my pimp hand is way strong\nYou dead wrong if ya think that pimpin' gon' die\nTwelve piece with a hundred hoes by my side\nI'm down with that nigga Fifty like I'm down with blue\nFuck cuz, nah nigga motherfuck you\nG-U-N-I-Tizzt, fuckin' with me and the D-P-Gizzy\nNiggas in New York know how Doggy get down\nI got my niggas in Queens, I got my bitches Uptown\nI got my business in Manhattan, I ain't fuckin' around\nI got some butter pecan, Puerto Ricans from the Boogie Down\nThat's waitin' on me to return\nSo they can snatch these braids out and put my shit in a perm, word\nThey love it when I get to crippin'\nAnd spittin' this mag-ah-nificent pimpin'\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm cause I'm a G\nAnd I'm a motherfuckin' C-R-I-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a crumb up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm and I'm a G\nAnd I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\n\nIt's G-Unit and the D-P-G\nFrom New York City to the L-B-C\nI'll break it down for ya, I'm a P-I-M-P\nWhen my gun go off nigga ask about me\nNigga look what done happened since yo bitch done chose\nMy wrist done froze\nI'll show ya how I get them hoes\nI spit that G that be fuckin' with they brain\nHave em' on the track when it's freezin' in the rain\nSpring on a bitch with the nerve to complain\nLike bitch you dead wrong, you catch a date you\u2019ll be warm\nYou said you want the finer things in life, you gotta go out and get it\nAnd I'll be right here waitin' when you come back with it\nYa see I was born to break a bitch\nMy instructions'll make a bitch\nI got me a New York Knicks, Celtics, and a Laker bitch\nI got that G that make these hoes have a change of heart\nI'm a natural, I been good at this from the start\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a blunt up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm cause I'm a G\nAnd I'm a motherfuckin' C-R-I-P\nI don't know what you heard about me\nBut a bitch can't get a crumb up outta me\nI drive a Cadillac, wear a perm and I'm a G\nAnd I'm a motherfuckin' P-I-M-P\n\nIt's goin' down now with Fifty and Big Snoop Dogg\nAnd the archbishop, Don 'Magic' Juan\nRidin' shotgun with WhooKid\nThe straight up pimp is crack-a-lackin'\nIt's pimps up, you know it's hoes down\nIt's green for the money, gold for the honey\nWe off and we runnin'\nWith Fifty and Snoop Dogg and the mackelineum\nKeepin' it down playa\nPimps up, you know the rest\nChurch"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsChronic Break LyricsCan we get a motherfuckin moment of silence\nFor this small chronic break?\nA-hah, yeah, niggas be brown-nosing these hoes and shit\nTakin' bitches out to eat, and spendin' money on these hoes, YouknowhatI'msayin?\nI treat a bitch like 7-Up, I never have, I never will\nI tell a bitch like this\n\"Bitch, you without me is like Harold Melvin without the Bluenotes;\nYou'll never go platinum\"\nHey Daz, give me a light, niggaYou might also like"}
{"text":"16 ContributorsSexual Eruption Lyrics\nI'm gonna take my time\nShe gon' get hers before I\nI'm gonna take it slow\nI'm not gon' rush the stroke\n\nSo she can get a sexual eruption\nSo I can get a sexual eruption\nSo we can get a sexual eruption\nSexual eruption, whoa, whoa\n\nShe might be with him, but she's thinking 'bout me, me, me\nWe don't go to the mall, we don't go out to eat, eat, eat\nAll that we ever do is play in the sheets, sheets, sheets\nSmoke us a cigarette, then go back to sleep, sleep, sleep\n'Cause we done got a\n\nSexual eruption\nSexual eruption, whoa, whoa\nSexual eruption\nSexual eruption, whoa\n\nI'm gonna take my time\nShe gon' get hers before I\nI'm gonna take it slow\nI'm not gon' rush the stroke\nYou might also like\nIf you don't know by now, Doggy Dogg is a freak, freak, freak\nI keep a bad bitch with me seven days out the week, week, week\nAnd all that we ever do is play in the sheets, sheets, sheets\nThen smoke us a cigarette, then go back to sleep, sleep, sleep\n'Cause we done got a\n\nSexual eruption\nSexual eruption, whoa, whoa\nSexual eruption\nSexual eruption, whoa\n\nI was all in the club, sippin' some Hen, smokin' on a blunt of 'dro\nWhen I peeped this lil' ho out\nI was all in the bar, when, drift up, Shawty Redd came on,\nThen she hit the floor now\nWith a see-through dress, long hair, light-brown eyes\nLookin' like Ms. Bo Peep\nAnd a nigga know if I take her home, with them wide-ass hips\nYou damn right, I'm gon' beep\nSo I approached the chick with the real pretty face\nBig-ass booty with a little-bitty waist\nI whispered in her ear, \"Lil' mama, what you drink?\nI know that you a freak, but you know I ain't gon' say shit\"\nSee, my game is outrageous\nI got her to the crib and exchanged some fuck-faces\nBut it wasn't no use for me to rush to bust one\n'Cause I wanted her to have a eruption\nSexual eruption (A sexual eruption... yeah)\nSexual eruption, whoa (Orgasms)\nSexual eruption\nSexual eruption, whoa, whoa\n\nSexual eruption (All the time, anytime)\nSexual eruption, whoa\nSexu..."}
{"text":"54 ContributorsI\u2019m Ya Dogg Lyrics\nBaby, I come running\nBaby, I come running\nJust keep me coming (Keep me coming)\nAnd I come running (Running)\nCause I'm your dog\nBaby I'm your dog\nSo whenever you call\nI come running\nBaby, I come running\nBaby, I come running\nJust keep me coming (Keep me coming)\nAnd I come running\nCause I'm your dog (I'm your dog)\nBaby I'm your dog (Oh, oh, oh)\nSo whenever you call (Whenever you call)\nI come running (Baby, baby, baby)\n\nHe ain't listenin'\nSo you can talk to me, don't listen to him (No)\nA body like that ain't hard to feed\n'Cause girl, I'll eat you up\nAll in a couple of seconds\nGirl, I'll eat you up (Eat you up)\nIt's when you realize you're in Heaven\nLike how'd you get there?\nBaby, what you doin' in this chair? (Ugh)\nCouldn't let you sit there\nYou need help, somebody should get there\nYou see, girl, time is like money\nBoth of which men love\nSpend them both with me\nAnd then for sure, you'll know\nYou might also like\nBaby, I come running\nBaby, I come running\nJust keep me coming\nAnd I come running\nCause I'm your dog\nBaby I'm your dog\nSo whenever you call\nI come running\nBaby, I come running\nBaby, I come running\nJust keep me coming\nAnd I come running\nCause I'm your dog\nBaby I'm your dog\nSo whenever you call\nI come running\n\nUh\nShe's impressed by a fat boy\nCadillac, weed, pistol on his lap, boy\nHome run hitter, thought I was a batboy\nSearch warrant for the crib, you better get a map for it\nPaid for, meanin' I ain't gotta rap for it\nShe a alley oop, I tap it off the backboard\nHustlin', baby what you lookin' for? Just ask for it\nBlue Ferrari, I'm the envy of the task force\nImpeccable suits, as I run with my dogs\nPinkie rings and things that come with my wonderful job\nDogg pound niggas, and we came to fight\nI was several million up before it came to light\nNow they callin' me the truest one to ever do it\nStatus symbol for the pimps, now enjoy the music\nSmoked out like a player and you know the name\nBreak a bitch quick, really, biggest in the game\nMaybach Music\nBaby, I come running\nBaby, I come running\nJust keep me coming\nAnd I come running\nCause I'm your dog\nBaby I'm your dog\nSo whenever you call\nI come running\nBaby, I come running\nBaby, I come running\nJust keep me coming\nAnd I come running\nCause I'm your dog\nBaby I'm your dog\nSo whenever you call\nI come running\nI got... Rottweiler in tube sock\nPitbull... lock on your neck, kiss it and you'll die\nBoxer... you take mine's off then hallelujah\nShando, count my blessings, spin around two times\nFreaky... freak like it's the 80s\nFuckin' explicit, radio prolly say we\nShould tone it... down with the clean version\nDirty... but in public you're like teen virgin\nI like it... make me realize my vices\nEnticin', flower bombin' all on your privates\nPrivate... meetin' inside your bedroom\nHead in that Maybach boomin', thank God for leg room\nIt's a trophy in that pussy, I'mma cum in first place\nI'mma cum in first place, cum in, cum in first place\nI'm your D-O-double-G and I need more Pedigree\nWhat it D-O? Puppy chow, I've been grown and so off the leash, ho\nBaby, I come running\nBaby, I come running\nJust keep me coming\nAnd I come running\nCause I'm your dog\nBaby I'm your dog\nSo whenever you call\nI come running\nBaby, I come running\nBaby, I come running\nJust keep me coming\nAnd I come running\nCause I'm your dog\nBaby I'm your dog\nSo whenever you call\nI come running"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsBathtub Lyrics\n(Water Trickling)\nUh, that felt good\nDoes it baby?\nYeah, rub my back for me\nWhere do you want me to rub it baby?\nRight here\nOkay\nOh\nTurn around\nAight, check it out though\nWhy don't you put me on some music?\nWhat you wanna hear baby?\nPut me on some of that old gangsta shit\nAight then\n(Door Bell, Needle Scratch, \"Give Me Your Love\" Plays)\nDamn, the fuck is that?\nEvery time I'm chilling someone ringing my motherfucking doorbell\nYou want me to get that for you?\nYeah, handle that shit for me\nAight, I'll be right back\n\nWhat the fuck?\nHey, Snoop!\nYo, what's up, Snoop Dogg?\nYou might also like\nHey, hey, hey Snoop, what's going down?\nWhat's up G-Dogg?\nOh, nothing, trying to live between the sky and Earth and ain\u2019t touching dirt nowhere, man\nRight, right\nI'm fucked about right about now Dogg\nI'm about ready to get up out this, damn\nI'm ready to get his shit up, man\nWith the motherfucking law after me\nPunk-ass bitches, sucka-ass niggas\nI can't take this shit no more dog\nWhat? Man, you want to get out the game? Come on man\nYou can smoke a pound of bud everyday\nYou got a big screen TV, man, you wanna give all this up?\nYou got the dopest shit out on the streets\nNigga, is you crazy? That's the American Dream, nigga\nWell, ain't it?\nFool, you better come on in\nWait, wait, wait, wait, hold up Snoop\nHey, nigga, I put five dollars on the weed\nYou better quit fucking with me\n\n(Smoke inhale)\nIt's time to get busy in this motherfucker\nLike we always do about this time"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsThat Tree Lyrics\nSnoopy\nIs what they say as if they knew me\nGroupies, on my head like a cufi\nMy nigga Kid Cudi, that's my little buddy\nCall some hoes up, and get some cutty cutty\nWhat's your life like? Mine's is kinda tight\nA long way from hustlin', that china white\nMy people love me, the fans love me, I'm all go\nIf you ain't showin' love, then what you call for?\nI don't need it in my life, my kids pay the price\nSo alike and in need of my wife\nSmoke 'til I'm gone, Dogg on the throne\nI'm world-wide known, I'm a boss in the zone\nI get it how I get it 'cause I can, I earn my spot\nYou see the plan, I'm just fuckin' with my fans\nI turned out to be the better man, important to life\nYou understand while I'm puffin' on this gram\n\nEverything I'm havin', no there ain't necessity\nThough I'm shining, keep on grindin'\nWhat you see ain't all of me\nThough I keep them ho's, don't love them ho's\nThe code in which y'all roll\nIt's so simple what I need\nYou know I keep my fam and I can't forget that tree\nYou might also like\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nI can't forget that tree\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nI can't forget that tree\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nI can't forget that tree\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nNah nah, nah nah nah\n(Nah nah nah, nah nah nah)\n\nI got my fam dawg, look at my niggas\nGot a little money y'all, and I ain't trippin'\nMost days I'm faded, feeling ex-rated\nSteady wantin' freaky hoes, then I want a lady\nHoldin' the fam down, and my close homie\nThe peoples who were there, when some sucka left me lonely\nPhony, when you see a nigga don't approach me\nMade it to the top baby, that's on me\nKoch tryna claim that they made me\nHowever you feel, another real fugazzi\nI keep it one hundred, never frontin', don't need be\nI'm in another zone, no place you could see, my nigga\nConyo to haters that don't know\nLow pro, how a nigga like from costo\nThe one fans love, who was always approachable, yo\nAnd I rep the double O, smokin', eatin' Cheerios\nEverything I'm havin', no there ain't necessity\nThough I'm shining, keep on grindin'\nWhat you see ain't all of me\nThough I keep them ho's, don't love them ho's\nThe code in which y'all roll\nIt's so simple what I need\nYou know I keep my fam and I can't forget that tree\n\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nI can't forget that tree\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nI can't forget that tree\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nI can't forget that tree\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nNah nah, nah nah nah\n(Nah nah nah, nah nah nah)\n\nCan't forget it, they made me who I am, a king\nAnd I'm still on the scene, you gotta love it\nAll out in public, the people want to touch it\nI need a blunt with the stuffin'\nNigga, it's nothin' for me to chill out, post up at the house\nWith Madden on the screen, and smash on the homies\nHollywood nice now, everybody on me\nAnd on the blogs talk shit like they know me, hm\nAww fool, take you niggas to school\n\"How to get rich and stay cool\"\nSnoopy D O Dub, show you homie, even with the critics\nAnd the Feds all on me, I was tappin' all the chonies\nDogg, but my folks call me Snoopy\nBoss dogg, nigga sue me\nPony tail swangin' as I lay in the jacuzzi\nLove of my life, while I'm puffin' on the oww wee, kush\nEverything I'm havin', no there ain't necessity\nThough I'm shining, keep on grindin'\nWhat you see ain't all of me\nThough I keep them ho's, don't love them ho's\nThe code in which y'all roll\nIt's so simple what I need\nYou know I keep my fam and I can't forget that tree\n\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nI can't forget that tree\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nI can't forget that tree\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nI can't forget that tree\nNah nah nah, nah nah nah\nNah nah, nah nah nah\n\nSnoop Dogg in the house tonight blowing that Laker purp that I know you like, right?\nKid Cudi, my nephew, blaze that shit right now would you, would you, right?\nSnoop Dogg in the house tonight blazing that Laker purp that I know you like, right?\nKid Cudi, my nephew, blaze that shit right now my nigga, right?"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsGangsta Luv Lyrics\nRadio Killa, Big Snoop D-O-dub\nThe-American-Dream...\nAiyyo nephew, why don't come up off them keys\nAnd sing a 'lil somethin for the ladies\nYanuhtalkinbot? Let 'em know how we feelin right now\n\nEvery time I come around, shawty love me down\nRun up on me like click-clack, the gun out like take that\nShe make it do what it do\nWhen we doing what we doing in the back of the 'Llac\nI'm like come up off of that\nAnd every night her body get stacked\nI got that gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta luv\n\nYeah, she love it the way I put it on her\nBlowin trees, summer breeze, sippin Coronas\nBoss Dogg, I give it to her right, and she like it\nShe on the hip like a Sidekick\nIs he, one of the coolest of fool on the flo'?\nI whispered in her ear, \"C'mere, you're ready to go?\"\nI rolled up a winna and put it up in the air\nGot that lil' dress on, you comin up outta there, yeah!\nShe like that, you like that?\nYou say you bite, well I bite back\nAnd I'm all go, we can do it 'til tomorrow\nI beat it up like Harpo\nSnoopy, I go hard baby, yes\nKissin on ya chest and I'm diggin out your stress\nI won't stop 'til you're finished\nBut you ain't felt love 'til a gangsta get up in it\nDream\nYou might also like\nEvery time I come around, shawty love me down\nRun up on me like click-clack, the gun out like take that\nShe make it do what it do\nWhen we doing what we doing in the back of the 'Llac\nI'm like come up off of that\nAnd every night her body get stacked\nI got that gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta luv\n\nShe always call in the middle of the night\nCause I'm a Dogg, I'mma give her what she like\nShe say my name loud, I say her name low\nThat's what I aim fo', that's how the game go\nBaby like the way I wake her up (Why?)\n'Cause I'm a gangsta, I grab her by the butt (oh)\nPull her to my side, I'm in deep\nWoke that ass up, just to put her to sleep\nEveryday, it's the same thang, I creep in\nIt's like \"True Blood\", I sink my teeth in\nI gotta have it, the L.B. raised me\nWe was taught to dick 'em down crazy\nLights out, I'm so lit\nMommy so gone, daddy won't quit\nI won't stop 'til you're finished\nYou ain't felt love 'til a gangsta get up in it\nDream\nEvery time I come around, shawty love me down\nRun up on me like click-clack, the gun out like take that\nShe make it do what it do\nWhen we doing what we doing in the back of the 'Llac\nI'm like come up off of that\nAnd every night her body get stacked\nI got that gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta luv\n\nThis the life that you show\nThe loop, the Coupe, the grove\nAn'thing goes!\nIt's so good, got her wigglin her toes (WOW!)\nThe boss, The-Dream\nThe floss, the cream\nThe trips overseas\nAll these things really don't mean a thing\nWhen I'm tearin' that ass up, workin you like a shift\nI give it to you like a gift\nYou hear what that boy say?\nYou gettin jacked, give it up fast\nThen I hit it from the back\n\"Snoopy, you so good,\" she screamin' and I like that girl\nShe go off in another world, I won't stop\n'til you're finished, she love this gangsta\nEspecially when I'm in it\nDream\nEvery time I come around, shawty love me down\nRun up on me like click-clack, the gun out like take that\nShe make it do what it do\nWhen we doing what we doing in the back of the 'Llac\nI'm like come up off of that\nAnd every night her body get stacked\nI got that gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta luv\nGangsta, gang-gangsta\nGangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta, gang-gangsta\nThat gangsta luv"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsKush Ups Lyrics\nMy weed man got the hook up\nRolling up another pound every time you look up\nBig ass joints, them ones that leave you shook up\nSo much weight that now I'm doing kush ups\nKush ups, 'bout to roll a whole book up\nLooking for me, I was at the crib doing kush ups\nKush ups, 'bout to roll a whole book up\nLooking for me, I was at the crib doing\nDon't stop!\n\nTae Bo, five, four, three, two, one\nWorking out, chiefing up, creeping up, keeping up\nWith the Joneses, smoke a zone with my pen pals\nIn my neighborhood, flavor's good, roll up, put some papers to it\nStraight into it, gon' make him do it, that thing can do it fo sho\nGet my lift on, while get my spliff on, fo sho\nBreak bad, stay cool, way cool, roll a doob\nOld school, paid my dues, spray these fools, ladies drool\nCause they know what I got\nI got a bag of the Saturday pot\nAnd it'll keep you up from Thursday to Saturday night\nWhat do you like?\nWhen you smoke with the Dogg, you had the time of your life\nNow light... the fatty, jump in my Cadi\nPull your seat back, yup, I know you need that\nLet it flow, set it go, incredible\nThat ain't gold, laying low like 10 to 4, on the floor\nYou might also like\nMy weed man got the hook up\nRolling up another pound every time you look up\nBig ass joints, them ones that leave you shook up\nSo much weight that now I'm doing kush ups\nKush ups, 'bout to roll a whole book up\nLooking for me, I was at the crib doing kush ups\nKush ups, 'bout to roll a whole book up\nLooking for me, I was at the crib doing\nDon't stop!\n\nDon't even trip\nAin't really gotta use a scale, I could eyeball a zip\nSo much weight you thinkin', \u201cWhy this ain't for sale?\u201d\nWeed in my lungs, weed in my nails\nShe coning joints, I'm rolling weed up myself\nDon't ever get my weed from off the shelf or my clothes\nI heard Polillo 'bout to drop some shit, order those\nPounds, I got more of those, why my eyes sorta low\nNot too many when I roll, more arms than  though\nBoys hating, I'm just counting up the money I just made\nAnd what I'm making make a nigga make a million dollars later\nSmoking getting high pays\nI like my eyes glazed\nAin't empty out my ashtray in days\nAt my house playing pool in some HUF socks and Joyrich sweats\nI roll a joint, you roll another one next\nCan't even name a nigga colder than\nAin't pay for game that mean you stole it then\nKnow it's the bomb when you hold it in\nMy weed man got the hook up\nRolling up another pound every time you look up\nBig ass joints, them ones that leave you shook up\nSo much weight that now I'm doin' kush ups\nKush ups, 'bout to roll a whole book up\nLooking for me, I was at the crib doing kush ups\nKush ups, 'bout to roll a whole book up\nLooking for me, I was at the crib doing\nDon't stop!"}
{"text":"16 ContributorsThe One And Only Lyrics\nAw yeah, coming to you live and direct from the LBC\nWe have the one and only, Snoop D-O double G\nYeah, yeah, drop it\n(*scratching*)\nIt's the one and only D-O double G\nBig Snoop Dogg, it's the one and only\nThe one and only, D-O double-double-double G\n\nBig Snoop Dogg\nYou in the presence of a motherfucking rap star\nI push up laid back in a black car\nThough I bossed up, it ain't hard to tell that\nI came up hard as hell, check it out\nI stayed sharp and played my part\nAll I had was a mic, a dream and some heart\nMe and my moms wasn't getting along at this time\nAnd since pops was gone, I'm out grinding\nCatch a nigga praying, swearing I ain't going back to jail\nJudge about tired of a playa, I don't know about this bidness shit\nBut I'm good with this rapping, can I get a witness what's happening\nThat's about the time I put down the rocks\nAnd got to working in the studio around the clock\nFor a small profit, but a whole lot of game\nMan I'm famous, now it ain't the same\nYou might also like\nIt's the one and only D-O double G\nDo you want some of this\nTop Dogg bite em all, yeah I'm burning it up\nAw naw, Big Snoop Dogg\nYou tuned in to the number one\nBuck one, buck two, buck three, buck four\nSo get real fool, fool\n\nLocal boy made good over night shit\nNot only am I getting righteous but wise see\nI paid the price, with consecutive platinum hits\nI up my status, ain't no more Calvin Broadus\nWorld on my shoulder, but I can handle it\nNow that I'm older, I'm sharper and colder\nCan you remember when I slid in Deep Cover\nAnd made niggas in the Beach love eachother\nA street hustler, but I'm all set for the come up\nBest kept secret so I'm want up\nI've been acquitted up for 1-8-7\nYes I'm blessed thank God in Heaven\nNow all I need is a push in the right direction\nWeed and a mic now I'm writing checks\nAnd now the game ain't stopping\nAnd can't nobody say my name ain't popping\nStarted off young as a little-bitty buck\nNow I'm ready for the world, and I got to give it up\n\nYou in the presence of a motherfucking millionaire\nStop, look, listen, feel, yeah I ain't tripping on shit\nI worked hard as a motherfucker\nFuck Cuzz, and him too cause all y'all suckas\nNow with the savvy of a business man\nI gave, new niggas a chance, to see what they was saying\nAnd kept a spot on hot, West Coast on lock\nBig Dizzel knocking down your block\nNever looking back uh uh, a steady process\nAnd leaving that way, cause see I'm blessed\nIt's like I'm happy now, cause I'm a family man\nI fell in love with my kids and my wife again\nAnd these here are the files of a classic\nIt's my throne till I choose to pass it\nWorldwide and the sun shine so bright\nThat's why I wear my L-O-C's at night nigga\n"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsClass Room Intro LyricsGood Morning boys and girls, I'm your substitute teacher\nMy name is Mr. Buckwort\nThe topic fo' today is, what you would like to be when you grow up\nYou, over there in the jean shirt\nWhat you wanna be when you grow up?\n\"I wanna be a police officer\"\nAlright, that's a pretty good profession\nYou over there in that black shirt\nWhat you wanna be when you grow up?\n\"I would like to be a fire man\"\nAlright, that's a pretty good profession too\nHey, you in the back with those French braids, what's yo name?\n\"My name is Snoop\"\nHi, Snoop, what you wanna be when you grow up?\n\"I wanna be a motherfuckin hustla, ya betta ask somebody\"You might also like"}
{"text":"30 Contributors10 Lil\u2019 Crips Lyrics\nTen little Crip niggas runnin' outside\nAll from the turf and they bangin' out lives\nFar from a scrub cuzz from the Eastside\nWhere they don't die they just multiply\nSo.. don't give them niggas a reason\nTo turn it into spray season\nDon't give them niggas a reason\nBecause they'll turn it into Crip season\n\nThe gangsta's back, the bank is fat\nThe gangsta MAC, in a gangsta 'llac\nHmm.. fools be like, \"Break off some cheese\"\nFriends and enemies, aww nigga please\nFuck, you thought who pumped you up\nStop, you stuck too much, pop, drop, you plucked\nIt's all similar to gettin laid\nOn ya back when the motherfuckin' K sprays\nI grind for my shine about my bidness\nLunatic on the shit and I get ignit (ignit)\nGonna proceed to squeeze with ease\nOne of these, they can't believe how I leave 'em\nLook into a mind of a nigga that's crazy\nSeventeen years old and still a baby\nGangstas real, they pop the pill\nYou cap back, young motherfucker it's like that\nYou might also like\nTen little Crip niggas runnin' outside\nAll from the turf and they bangin' out lives\nFar from a scrub cuzz from the Eastside\nWhere they don't die they just multiply\nSo.. don't give them niggas a reason\nTo turn it into spray season\nDon't give them niggas a reason\nBecause they'll turn it into Crip season\n\nWake up in the morning lookin funny and shit\nFuck a honey dip.. cause I got money to get\nAin't no books, ain't no help, ain't no role to this\nStay focused young homey, that's the code to this\nKeep a strap in ya pocket when you trip through the towns\nThere's a million motherfuckers tryna get you down\nA lot of pain in this game, cocaine is the thang\nIf ya money right then you might get you a chain\nBut if ya money is low, there's only one way to go\nJack a rapper at a local rap radio show\nSo mean, so green, crip back to the block\nThen brag to the homies, show 'em what you got\nIt's a gangsta jack (gangsta jack), in gangsta black (black)\nAnd they thought we just gangsta rapped\nYeah nigga, we take your snaps\nYour shooby dooby, hooroobies, and your Scooby snacks (It's like that?)\nIt's like that!\nTen little Crip niggas runnin' outside\nAll from the turf and they bangin' out lives\nFar from a scrub cuzz from the Eastside\nWhere they don't die they just multiply\nSo.. don't give them niggas a reason\nTo turn it into spray season\nDon't give them niggas a reason\nBecause they'll turn it into Crip season\n\nIt's a whole lot of fillin when you on the Eastside\nOn the Eastside, nigga we ride\nAnd it's a whole lot of dealin when you on the Eastside\nOn the Eastside, nigga we ride\nAnd it's a whole lot of stealin when you on the Eastside\nOn the Eastside, nigga we ride\nAnd it's a whole lot of killin when you on the Eastside\nEastside, yeah nigga we ride\n\nTen little Crip niggas runnin' outside\nAll from the turf and they bangin' out lives\nFar from a scrub cuzz from the Eastside\nWhere they don't die they just multiply\nSo.. don't give them niggas a reason\nTo turn it into spray season\nDon't give them niggas a reason\nBecause they'll turn it into Crip season\nThey say it's crazy out here, it ain't no more fun\nI can't walk down the street without my gun, gun"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsStoner\u2019s Anthem Lyrics\nA friend indeed\nFeeling like Cee Lo Green\nMiddle finger in the sky\nMeditate and let it ride\nRock-a-bye beddy-bye\nA friend indeed\nMore than jimming to\nMore than giving you\nNo prohibits to\nYou can have a listen too\nI couldn't find no one else that I could give it to\nAnd now that we on\nI could put my family in a brand new home\nMy kids is grown\nAnd I'm still rocking on the microphone\nPeople love me everywhere\nAnd I know why\nIt's not that I'm dope and my style is so fly\nJames Brown sat me down in a chair\nAnd said, \"Snoopy, don't you ever cut your hair\"\nI was dazed and amazed\nThat's why I keep my shit in ponytails or either braids\nWhen I was in school, I used to get cool grades\nWhen I graduated, used to smoke two jays\nWith a fifth of Seagrams\nMixed with some sacco\nThen I got a Caddy sack, just like them vatos\nPosted up six-one, yeah, that's the block though\nRide by slow and get your ass popped, though\nMe and Geeda, Faith and Terry, that's when rump was enough\nCan't forget Tim, Baby Dog and Half-Dead\nDre-Loc was a 20 Crip that showed me a lot of shit\nBut moving along, I went from a Camaro to a Fleetwood Brougham\nMy sack in the back\nMy strap in my lap\nRoom to the back\nRolling through the neighborhood, checking my traps\nAs you get old, life like just might unfold\nCan't settle, this might be untold\nTwilight Zone, live life long\nSmoke you a bone, and hit you a blunt\nBuy you a zo', and roll you a jay\nAnd put it in the E-I\nAnd let's stay way fucked up til we D-I\nAll in together now if you agree\nAnd lighters in the air, repeat after me\nI\u2019m too blowed, forever in a day\nI love for oh's so\nCause everybody green ain't dro\nEverybody can't smoke like we smoke\nGive a dog a bone\nI like trees that cypress hills grow\nRoll up this shit, pimpin', it's on\nStoners worldwide singing this songYou might also like"}
{"text":"6 ContributorsSnoop D.O. Double G Lyrics (Snoop talking)\nYeah! You know how we do\nA lil' something for the non-believers\nFor the underachievers\nYa'll know what time it is\nBig Snoop Dogg up in this motherfucka one time\nI want ya'll to sing this shit wit me\nIt go like this, check it out\n 2x\nSnoop D.O. Double G, the way you rip so love-ely\nIt sound so visciously\nWhen the thump in the trunk go, bump, bump, bump\n\nEverybody put your hands to the motherfucking center\nBaby girl go on an' pull ya weave back, D-O-G, oh yeah, he back\nAnd I'm steppin' out the all-blue Lee-zac\nWord on the streets, yeah nigga, I got the feedback\nI don't trip off, I get the tip off\nBefo' it rip off, yeah homie, I'm the Biz-oss\nI got them finger-lickin' chickens wit the siz-auce\nAnd one of my hoes known to cut ya dick off\nLeave ya stuck in the land of the liz-ost\nI'm back at the mayn-sion, cold as the friz-ost\nSeventeen acres, dawg, what it kiz-ost\nA whole lot to you, but a lil' nothing to me\nThat's what you get, for fuckin' wit me\nAin't that right, Sha Money from the D-P-C\nG-Unit!\nYou know I'm down with them boys\nI clown wit them boys\nDon't fuck around wit them boys, cause they down wit the\nYou might also like\n\nSTOP! Wait! Now let me give it to ya\nThis is the proper hip-hopper, it get into ya\nI know you liking it, loving it, or you feelin' it\nD.O. Double Gizzel, oh yeah, Cuh\/Cuzz be killin' it\nWho the only nigga that you can call on?\nWhen ya favorite rapper fall off, the Big Dogg, fall on\n10, 11, 12, or was it 13?\nHow many years a nigga been in the game, and I'm still so clean\nI'm flippin' up the game and shit\nI maintain my thang wit this\nAnd I, never hesitate to bang a bitch\nI'm having millions, and I'm still banging Crip\nUm, um, wouldn't you believe it?\nEven after achievin', gotta deal wit the heathens\nBut, as long as I'm breathing\nI'mma keep walking like Jesus\nMy name is\n\n\n\"Whatchu gone do next, how you gone say it\nWhen yo album come out dawg, I can't wait to play it\nTell the truth, my nigga, I love all ya work\"\nWell, from me to you loc, welcome to the Church\nMi casa, su casa\nSo, get ya drank on and smoke on nigga, go on an' boss up\nYou can holla at baby, it's ok to me\nDamn, I love it when them motherfuckers say to me\n\n (Snoop talking)\nYeah! Sha Money, representin' G-Unit, good lookin' my nigga\nAs usual, it's a DPG-Unit connection\nYou know how we do it\nA lil' something for the non-believers\nFor the underachievers\n*echoes*\nSnoop D.O. Double GEmbed"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsSo Many Pros Lyrics\nMeet me out, can you make it?\nPlease don\u2019t make me lie to you, lady\nI\u2019m in it, I\u2019m not in it\nBut poochie say there's women\nAt the club we finna go\nSip some drink and hit some dro\nIt\u2019s okay if you don\u2019t go\nI\u2019ll make sure to tell you 'bout these pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt's like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many\u2014\n\nI keep seeing all the ugly people, hold on\nI can see all the pretty people, on\nNot saying that I\u2019ve never been wrong\nBut tonight I got me a hot, come on\nNow let me talk to ya, girl\n\nFor your own, for your information, baby\nI\u2019m that winner, you need to go and ask somebody\nFor your own, for your information, baby\nI\u2019m that winner, you need to go and ask somebody\nYou might also like\nMeet me out, can you make it?\nPlease don\u2019t make me lie to you, lady\nI\u2019m in it, I\u2019m not in it\nBut poochie say there's women\nAt the club we finna go\nSip some drink and hit some dro\nIt\u2019s okay if you don\u2019t go\nI\u2019ll make sure to tell you 'bout these pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt's like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many\u2014\n\nWe party to the break of dawn\nEvery girl just dance with nothin\u2019 on\nWhere we at, they don\u2019t see nothin\u2019 wrong\nWell you know we were outside on the lawn\nNow let me talk to ya, girl\n\nFor your own, for your information, baby\nI\u2019m that winner, you need to go and ask  somebody\nFor your own, for your information, baby\nI\u2019m that winner, you need to go and ask somebody\nMeet me out, can you make it?\nPlease don\u2019t make me lie to you, lady\nI\u2019m in it, I\u2019m not in it\nBut poochie say there's women\nAt the club we finna go\nSip some drink and hit some dro\nIt\u2019s okay if you don\u2019t go\nI\u2019ll make sure to tell you 'bout these pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt's like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many\u2014\n\nWhen good music come on\nIt can get inside your head like porn\nBy yourself like what you grabbin\u2019 on?\nThen look down, it was so much fun\nNow let me talk to ya, girl\n\nFor your own, for your information, baby\nI\u2019m that winner, you need to go and ask  somebody\nFor your own, for your information, baby\nI\u2019m that winner, you need to go and ask somebody\nMeet me out, can you make it?\nPlease don\u2019t make me lie to you, lady\nI\u2019m in it, I\u2019m not in it\nBut poochie say there's women\nAt the club we finna go\nSip some drink and hit some dro\nIt\u2019s okay if you don\u2019t go\nI\u2019ll make sure to tell you 'bout these pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt's like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many pros\nIt\u2019s like somebody\u2019s growin\u2019 them on trees\nSo many\u2014\n\nHaha, hey\nI can tell you right there\nYeah"}
{"text":"19 ContributorsCountdown Lyrics\n10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1\nSnoop Dogg\nHere we go\n\nNigga, understand, West Coast Son of Sam\nDrumming wit' a hunnid bands\n'Cause that ain't shit to a real Crip, cuz\nYou'll swallow every clip before a nigga slip, cuz\nLBC, yeah, we gets love\n213, rest in peace, Nate\nIt's real in the field, keep your cleats laced\nCrack a bitch, hit the switch and make the back scrape down\nSmoke a pound when I move around, yeah\nThe world is my lounge chair\nReal sharks turn guppies, y'all drown here\nWhen everyday to me is New Year's Eve, Swizzy the countdown (Snoop)\n\n10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1\nSnoop Dogg\n\nNow I'm back getting another bag\nClocking the grip, never gon' slip, I put the \"R\" in Crip\nC's up, G's up, B's up, aw\nHe's up, we's up, East up\nGet a real woman, don't trust these slu-\nAnd when you're around the cops don't say three much\nIt gets cold for a winner in the winter\nFor a rich Crip shit can get, Big Dogg, pick of the litter\nStopped drinking cause my liver act up\nBut now I bring back the savage like a rental\nGold and black flannel, grip gripping on a handle\nSelling weed, selling songs, got shows on four channels like\nYou might also like\n10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, countdown, 1\nSnoop Dogg\n\nGo crazy in this mothafucka right now\nGo crazy in this bitch, mothafuckin' now\nGo crazy in this bitch, right, right now\nGo crazy in this bitch, right, right (Snoop Dogg)\nC-R-I-P, y'all ain't gon ever see a G like me again\nSo get a glimpse of a winner\nA rich Crip, shit can get-a\nSwizzy the countdown\n\n10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, countdown, 1\nSnoop Dogg"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsDomino Intro Lyrics\nDomino motherfucker what's happenin'?\n\nAhh nigga eat a dick nigga, don't break my momma's nice ass table nigga\n\nYeah fuck that, fuck what they talkin' bout nigga\nRack them motherfuckin' dominoes up nigga\n\nFuck that nigga, just look, look out for the table nigga\n\nFuck that\n\nAyo where's Snoop Dogg?\n\nI don't know them niggas went upstairs with that big booty bitch man\n\nAhh no he ain't bustin' no nuts on my momma's spread\n\nThat nigga up there gettin' his socks blown the fuck off\nYou might also like\nGettin' his ass chewed out\n\nBetter ask somebody\n\nBalls licked up and down\n\nHell yeah\n\nAyo what's up with them niggas that was on the TV dissin' you?\n\nMan fuck them niggas, man I ain't thinkin' about that old shit, man\n\nBusta ass, HIV pussy-ass motherfuckers\n\nYo yo yo Daz, easy come, easy-\nGunshot"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsCandy (Drippin\u2019 Like Water) Lyrics\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\n\nNarcotics vision of death merchant, shipping and handling yola I supply\nTime to get up and wipe the eye boogers out my eye (out my eye!)\nWhatchu try'na buy, pimpin? y'know it's kinda' dry here\nYeah, I only gotta' couple of pies left that'll last me through the year\nYola, (ewwww!) ice cream candy(What it do?)\nMan that shit be comin in handy\n(Ewwww!) It's real walkie talkie (What else?)\nI got that from the DB's, my cousin.. work dirty!\nIf you want 'em I got 'em; you here for the cop, you'd better be about your grip\nDevour any cowards, sours slippery at the lip\nBeast up, suck up to none, don't be no sucker\nBe a block monster, be a reputable motherfucker\nReal mannish with my Spanish\nIf ain't about no gouda, partner you can vanish\nDon't get put up in yo' place\nGive me 40 feet and an ounce of space\nYou might also like\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nNow-A-Later's, gum drops, jelly beans\nLollipops and triple beams\nBlue carpet, yeah that's the treatment\nCandy so sweet, got everybody eatin' it\nBigg Snoop Dogg, I'm the star of this\nSo gone on and get yourself a bar of this\nNo change man.. gimme the bucks\nThe kinda candy I sell they call it deez nutz\n(Deez nuts!) I'm almond with the caramel insides\nEuropean front end with the french fries\nHow it feel man? What it look like?\nI'm in your neighborhood, pullin on some Bud Light\nSweet and sticky, take it out the wrapper\nNow put it in your mouth\nTo the beat of the drum, it'll be fun\nAnd I bet you can't just eat one (Candy!)\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\n\nI'm in the hood with the six-trey candy paint\nLil' somethin to chunk, make the hoes all faint\nIf you know when to beep, jump my baby rate\nWhen I grip round her butt, I hold her steady\nG-yeah.. she my one and only\nQuick to keep back haters who don't know me\nI... feel... good about candy (Candy!)\nMy gangstas understand me\n\nShake it baby, don't break it baby, now can you make it clap?\n(Clap!) Tryna fit this work in your gap (gap!)\nDrop it like it water pagoda, get my hustle on\nI get it from you then I step on you to bubble on\nIt's gettin sweeter than a sugar cane\nHere come that sugar daddy, black, rollin on gold thangs\nFo'shigiddy, he turned it into somethin, boy\nCause I can't leave this filthy game without my Almond Joy (Candy!)\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\n\n\"It's like candy, candy!\" Get it how you want it\nWhip it, twist it, pop your whip up on the corner\nVoila, taadow, check out this bizarre\nThe D-A-T the N-I double G, the D-A-Z\nAgain it's up in the wind, feel the breeze for sheez\nGod damn! You already know who I am\nChrome on chrome, blue on blue, frost colors switches\nHit the gas, hit the brake, yea I really burn rubber\nDip, drop, drop, dip\nStop, dip, ghost ride the whip!\nYeah, nigga, shot caller\nIt's America's number one baller\nMan I don't give a fuck, like, \"Fuck it\"\nHi, bye, slide in the bucket\nLittle momma all up on a nigga like a coat\nI got the perfect thang that'll coat her throat (Candy!)\n\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water\nYou want 'em? I got 'em, drippin' like water"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsSanta Claus Goes Straight to the Ghetto Lyrics\nIs that the Black Santa Claus? (Ho ho ho ho)\nI want a Super 'Intendo (Merry Christmas!), yeah\nSega Genesis (Mommy, mommy), yeah\nStreet Fighter 2 (Mommy, is that the Black Santa Claus?)\nAnd a gang of toys (That is the Black Santa Claus!), uh\nMommy, mommy, mommy\n\nIt's 12:30 a.m., Christmas Eve\nI'm out with the gangstas and thieves\nCelebratin', postin' up with eggnog head up-up in my cup\nPut Rudolph in motion, sleigh all bang-bangin' and coastin'\nDown the block, but be careful for the hawk because it's posted\nSome stay to this day that Christmas ain't nothing but another day\nBut, out of respect, I gotta give the Lord his day\nTell me, tell me, where do the homeless and bums got to sleep? (Nowhere)\nWhere do hungry and the needy-greedies got to eat? (But who cares?)\nLife is so crucial and cold, as for, for the children\nIn this world they hopes and dreams can't unfold\nThe young and old churches, the spiritual dreams, seasonal things\nHeard throughout the ghetto, reaches gangstas and dope fiends, huh\n'Cause those who ain't able get it now can finally get it\n'Cause the ghetto Santa Claus has sprinkled the hood, now we ballin'\nLivin' to a new year of better thangs\nCelebrate it with some Champagne, haha, check it (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nSanta Claus (Ooh-ooh-ooh)\nIs coming straight to the ghetto\n\nNow on the first day of Christmas, my homeboy gave to me\nA sack of the Krazy Glue and told me to smoke it up slowly\nNow on the second day of Christmas, my homeboy gave to me\nA fifth of Henn-dawg and told me to take my mind off that weed\nNow by the third day of Christmas, my big homeboy gave to me\nA whole lot of everything, and it wasn't nothin' but game to me\n\nBack then, you woke up to the sound of \"I Saw Mama Kissing Santa\"\nMade you reminisce on the old fashion Christmas days\nGifts, Mr. Fat Man jolly with joy\nDown ya chimney with toys for lil' girls and boys\nPumped up, I jumped up before the sun peeped in\nAnd hoped to catch a Santa Claus creepin' down my hall\nRun to the window, put my eyes to the sky\nTo see if I could see the sleigh that parlayed and pushed a fat guy\nI sigh, ain't no sign, but everything under this tree in my house is mine\nMy bike, that, and this plastic nine'll do fine 'til next year come\nI try to see the same thing, they got us brainwashed dumb\nAnd when you find it ain't no Santa, Christmas still mean a lot\n'Cause it's the time to get together and give all you got\nYou got food, good moods, and what's better than together with your people\nWell-wishers give a toast by the tree, it's Merry Christmas\nSanta Claus (Ooh-ooh-ooh, don't get too close because you might get shot)\nIs coming straight to the ghetto (Welcome to the ghetto)\n\nSanta Claus on the ceiling, Jack Frost chillin'\nPinch the Grinch for being a holiday villain\nSeason's greetings, all the proceedings\nAre brought to you by the church house where we'll be eatin'\nChestnuts roastin' on a open fire\nSingin' my jingle, where is Kris Kringle?\nI didn't pout and I ain't even shouted\nI even stayed in the house when the homies tried to sneak me out\nAnd all I want for Christmas is my six-four Chevrolet\nAnd a granddaughter for her grandmother Beverly\nAin't that somethin'? (Uh-huh) Nah, ain't that nothin'\nHow it's Christmas time and my rhyme's steady bumpin'\nEverybody happy (Happy), hair still nappy\nGonna steal a gift for my old grandpappy\nCatch me giving out turkeys at the church house\nDon't try to work me, just stand in line and everything gon' be fine\nHolla at ya folks, boy, it's goin' down\nAin't no help from no elves, just Tha Dogg Pound\nAnd we passin' out gifts, blazin' up spliffs\nChristmas on the Row, can you dig it? (Can you dig it?)\nSanta Claus (Ooh-ooh-ooh)\nIs coming straight to the ghetto\n\nChristmas Eve, I believe '76 was the year\nGirls and boys full off joy with the season cheer\nSmell the sky, hella pies and cakes gettin' baked\nTo be ate after everything gone off your plate\nBut wait, not tonight it's straight beans and rice\nOn the table, are we able to proceed tonight?\nI wonder what the morn bringin' so it's hard to doze off\nThree 'o clock in my socks I crack the door soft\nHopin' when I open the door I'll see Santa\nNow who the hell is this in this blue bandana?\nMessin' with the boxes that's up under the tree\nLook like Santa Claus done crossed into a woman to me\nNow I'm comin' to see the whole picture gettin' clearer\nHow we have less as X-Mas get nearer\nMirror, mirror, please, it's seemed I've been deceived\nAnd thank you, Saint Trick, for the gifts I received\nSo I creep back, and act like I ain't even peeped it\nThis'll be me and mom's private secret\n\nSanta Claus (Ooh-ooh-ooh)\nIs coming straight to the ghetto\nSanta Claus (Ooh-ooh-ooh)\nIs coming straight to the ghetto\n\nWe wish you a happy new year\nWe wish you a happy new year\nWe wish you a happy new year\nWe wish you a happy new year\n\nSanta Claus (Ooh-ooh-ooh)\nIs coming straight to the ghetto\nSanta Claus (Ooh-ooh-ooh)\nIs coming straight to the ghetto"}
{"text":"Damn\nForgot to do somethin', let me see, uh\nOh, yeah\u2014 it ain't over, motherfuckers\nThe motherfuckin' saga continues\nY'all motherfuckers ready for N.W.A? Well, get the fuck up\nA bitch is a bitch, so if you're poor\u2014\nIt was once said by a man who couldn't quit, dope\u2014\nIce Cube writes the rhymes that I say\nBut now, since he stepped the fuck off\nHere's what they think about you\nThat punk Ice Cube\u2014\nHere's what they think about you\nCube was suckin' so much New York dick\nHere's what they think about you\nReal niggas? Them niggas Dre and Yella used to wear lipstick and lace\nHere's what they think about you\nWhy y'all let his punk ass in the group\nHere's what they think about you\nWhen they was in London, they wasn't no good without fuckin' Ice Cube\nHere's what they think about you\nWhen I bought the tape, all I know is I wanted my motherfuckin' money back\nHere's what they think about you\nI smell\u2014\nHere's what they think about you\nN.W.A. ain't shit without Ice Cube\nHere's what they think about you\nHere's what they think about you\nCube was suckin' so much New York dick\nHere's what they think about you\nReal niggas? Them niggas Dre and Yella used to wear lipstick and lace\nHere's what they think about you\nThat punk Ice Cube\u2014\nHere's what they think about you\nWhy y'all let his punk ass in the group\nHere's what they think about you\nI smell\u2014\nWhen I bought the tape, all I know is I wanted my motherfuckin' money back\nHere's what they think about you\nN.W.A. ain't shit without Ice Cube\nFuck all y'all\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nGoddamn, I'm glad y'all set it off\nUsed to be hard, now you're just wet and soft\nFirst you was down with the AK\nAnd now I see you on a video with Michel'le\nLooking like straight bozos\nI saw it coming, that's why I went solo\nAnd kept on stompin'\nWhile y'all motherfuckers moved straight outta Compton\nLiving with the whites\nOne big house and not another nigga in sight\nI started off with too much cargo\nDropped four niggas, now I'm making all the dough\nWhite man just ruling\nThe Niggas With Attitudes? Who you foolin'?\nY'all niggas just phony\nI put that on my mama and my dead homies\nYella Boy's on your team, so you're losing\nAyy, yo, Dre, stick to producing\nCalling me Arnold, but you been a dick\nEazy-E saw your ass and went in it quick\nYou got jealous when I got my own company\nBut I'm a man and ain't nobody humping me\nTrying to sound like Amerikkka's Most\nYou could yell all day, but you don't come close\n'Cause you know I'm the one that flow\nYou done run a hundred miles, but you still got one to go\nWith the L-E-N-C-H M-O-B\nAnd y'all disgrace the C-P-T\n'Cause you're getting fucked out your green\nBy a white boy, with no Vaseline\nNow you're getting done without Vaseline\nNow you're getting done without Vaseline\nNow you're getting done without Vaseline\nDamn, it feels good to see people, on it\nThe bigger the cap, the bigger the peeling\nWho gives a fuck about a punk-ass villain?\nYou're getting fucked real quick\nAnd Eazy dick is smelling like MC Ren's shit\nTried to tell you a year ago\nBut Willie D told me to let a ho be a ho, so\nI couldn't stop you from getting ganked\nNow let's play big bank take little bank\nTried to diss Ice Cube, it wasn't worth it\n'Cause the broomstick fit your ass so perfect\nCut my hair? Nah, cut them balls\n'Cause I heard you like giving up the drawers\nGang-banged by your manager, fella\nGetting money out your ass like a motherfucking ready teller\nGiving up the dollar bills\nNow they got The Villain with a purse and high-heels\nSo don't believe what Ren say\n'Cause he's going out like Kunta Kinte\nBut I got a whip for you, Toby\nUsed to be my homie, now you act like you don't know me\nIt's a case of divide and conquer\n'Cause you let a Jew break up my crew\nHouse nigga gotta run and hide\nYelling Compton, but you moved to Riverside\nSo don't front, MC Ren\n'Cause I remember when you drove a B210\nBroke as a motherfucking joke\nLet you on the scene to back up the first team\nIt ain't my fault, one nigga got smart\nAnd they ripping your asshole apart\nBy taking your green\nOh, yeah, The Villain does get fucked with no Vaseline\nNow you're getting done\u2014 get\u2014 getting done\nNow you're getting done\u2014 get\u2014 getting done\nNow you're getting done without Va\u2014 Va\u2014 Va\u2014 Va\u2014 Vaseline\n\nI never have dinner with the president\nI never have dinner with the president\nI never have dinner with the president\nAnd when I see your ass again, I'll be hesitant\nNow I think you a snitch\nThrow a house nigga in a ditch\nHalf pint bitch, fucking your homeboys, you little maggot\nEazy-E turned faggot\nWith your manager, fella\nFucking MC Ren, Dr. Dre, and Yella\nBut if they were smart as me\nEazy-E would be hanging from a tree\nWith no Vaseline\nJust a match and a little bit of gasoline\nLight 'em up, burn 'em up, flame on\n'Til that Jheri curl is gone\nOn a permanent vacation\nOff the massa plantation\nHeard you both got the same bank account\nDumb nigga, what you thinking 'bout?\nGet rid of that devil real simple\nPut a bullet in his temple\n'Cause you can't be the Nigga 4 Life crew\nWith a white Jew telling you what to do\nPulling wools with your scams\nNow I gotta play The Silence of the Lambs\nWith a midget who's a punk too\nTryin' to fuck me, but I'd rather fuck you\nEric Wright\nPunk, always into something, gettin' fucked at night\nBy Mister Shitpacker\nBend over for the goddamn cracker\nNo Vaseline\n\nMotherfuckin' nosejob havin'-ass\nMotherfuckin' Jheri Curl light, Ambi wearing motherfuckin' bitch"}
{"text":"\nBreak 'em\nYeah\nYeah\nYeah\nUh\n\nJust wakin' up in the morning, gotta thank God\nI don't know, but today seems kinda odd\nNo barking from the dog, no smog\nAnd mama cooked the breakfast with no hog\nI got my grub on, but didn't pig out\nFinally got a call from a girl I wanna dig out\nHooked it up for later as I hit the door\nThinkin', \"Will I live another twenty-four?\"\nI gotta go 'cause I got me a drop-top\nAnd if I hit the switch, I can make the ass drop\nHad to stop at a red light\nLookin' in my mirror, not a jacker in sight\nAnd everything is alright\nI got a beep from Kim, and she can fuck all night\nCalled up the homies and I'm askin' y'all\n\"Which park are y'all playin' basketball?\"\nGet me on the court and I'm trouble\nLast week, fucked around and got a triple-double\nFreakin' niggas every way like MJ\nI can't believe today was a good day\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nDrove to the pad and hit the showers\nDidn't even get no static from the cowards\n'Cause just yesterday them fools tried to blast me\nSaw the police and they rolled right past me\nNo flexin', didn't even look in a nigga's direction\nAs I ran the intersection\nWent to Short Dog's house, they was watchin' \"Yo! MTV Raps\"\nWhat's the haps on the craps?\nShake 'em up, shake 'em up, shake 'em up, shake 'em\nRoll 'em in a circle of niggas\nAnd watch me break 'em with the 7, 7-11, 7-11, 7, even back door Little Joe\nI picked up the cash flow\nThen we played bones, and I'm yellin' \"Domino!\"\nPlus nobody I know got killed in South Central L.A.\nToday was a good day\n\nLeft my nigga's house paid\nPicked up a girl been tryna fuck since the 12th grade\nIt's ironic, I had the brew, she had the chronic\nThe Lakers beat the Supersonics\nI felt on the big fat fanny\nPulled out the jammy and killed the punani\nAnd my dick runs deep, so deep\nSo deep put her ass to sleep\nWoke her up around one\nShe didn't hesitate to call Ice Cube the top gun\nDrove her to the pad and I'm coastin'\nTook another sip of the potion, hit the three-wheel motion\nI was glad everything had worked out\nDropped her ass off and then chirped out\nToday was like one of those fly dreams\nDidn't even see a berry flashin' those high beams\nNo helicopter lookin' for a murder\nTwo in the morning, got the Fatburger\nEven saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp\nAnd it read \"Ice Cube's a Pimp\" (Yeah)\nDrunk as hell, but no throwin' up\nHalfway home and my pager still blowin' up\nToday I didn't even have to use my AK\nI gotta say, it was a good day\nHey, wait, wait a minute!\nPooh, stop this shit!\nWhat the fuck am I thinkin' about?"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsGangsta Rap Made Me Do It Lyrics\n- Prior to gangsta rap music, the world was a peaceful place. And then all of that changed: violence, rape, murder, arson, theft, war. These are all things that came about as a result of gangsta rap music- But wasn't Compton dangerous before gangsta rap ?\n- Wrong! Compton was a nature preserve for bunny rabbits. When gangsta rap came along, they tore down the country clubs and put up housing projects!\n(Maestro!!!) Blame me!\nYou niggas know my pyroclastic flow\nYou niggas know my pyroclastic flow flow\nYou niggas know my pyroclastic flow\nIt's R-A-W, R-A-W\n\nYou lookin' at the grand wizard\nWarlord, vocal chord so vicious\nAnd I don't have to show riches\nTo pull up, pull off with some bad bitches\nAnd it ain't about chivalry\nIt's about dope lyrics and delivery\nIt's about my persona\nAin't nothin' like a man that can do what he wanna\nAin't nothin' like a man that you knew on the corner\nSee 'em come up and fuck up the owner\nSee 'em throw up Westside California\nNigga, I'm hot as Phoenix, Arizona\nI'm Utah: I got multiple bitches\nIt's a new law, keep a hold of your riches\nDumb nigga, don't spend it as soon as you get it\nAnd recognize I'm a captain and you a lieutenant\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nI can say what I want to say\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\nIf I call you a nigga\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\nI can act like an animal\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\nIf I eat you like a cannibal\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\n\nI'm raw as a dirty needle\nChoke an eagle, just to feed all my people\nLyrically I'm so lethal\nPlant thoughts in they mind just to defeat you\nIce Cube is a saga\nY'all spit saliva, and I spit lava\nI got the fearless flow\nDon't get near this, ho, if you scared to go\nI keep it gangsta, and why should I change that?\nFuck you old mothafuckas tryin' to change rap\nBut ain't you the same cat\nThat sat back when they brought cocaine back?\nI'm tryin' to get me a Maybach\nHow you mothafuckas gonna tell me \"don't say that\"?\nYou the ones that we learned it from\nI heard nigga back in 1971\nSo if I act like a pimp\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\nIf I call you a nappy-headed ho\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\nIf I shoot up your college\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\nIf I rob you of knowledge\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\n\nThank God when I bless the mic\nYou finally get to hear the shit that you like\nA nigga talkin' about real life\nSo you can try to get this shit right\nUse your brain, not your back\nUse your brain, not a gat; it's a party, not a jack\nDon't be scared of them people\nWalk up in there and show them that you equal\nAnd don't be material\nA nigga grew up on milk and cereal\nI never forgot Van Ness and imperial\nLook at my life, Ice Cube is a miracle\nIt could be you if you was this lyrical\nIt could be her if she was this spiritual\n\u2018Cause me and Allah go back like cronies\nI ain't gotta be fake, \u2018cause he is my homie\nIf I sell a little crack\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\nIf I die in Iraq\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\nIf I take you for granted\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\nIf I fuck up the planet\nAin't nothin' to it, gangsta rap made me do it\n\nYou niggas know my pyroclastic flow\nYou niggas know my pyroclastic flow-flow\nYou niggas know my pyroclastic flow\nIt's R-A-W, R-A-W\n\nOh yeah, and another thing\nFor all y'all niggas that don't do gangsta rap\nDon't get on TV talkin' about gangsta rap\n\u2018Cause 9 times out of 10\nYou don't know the fuck you talkin' about\nTalk about that bullshit rap you do\nStay the fuck out of mine"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsCheck Yo Self Lyrics\nYeah, word is bond\nDas EFX in this, you know what I'm sayin'?\nStraight from the sewer, word is bond\nYeah, yah, ah, yeah\nWe doing this with my nigga\nWhere my nigga Ice Cube in the motherfucker?\nWord is bond, yeah\n\nYou better check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\n'Cause I'm bad for your health\nI come real stealth\nDropping bombs on your moms\nFuck car alarms\nDoing foul crime, I'm that nigga wit' yo' Alpine\nSold it for a six-o, always let tricks know\nAnd friends know, we got the indo\nNo, I'm not a sucker sitting in a House of Pain\nAnd no, I'm not the butler, I'll cut ya\nHead-butt ya, you say you can't touch this\nAnd I wouldn't touch ya; in fact, motherfucker\nHere to let you know boy, oh boy\nI make dough, but don't call me Doughboy\nThis ain't no fucking motion picture\nA guy or bitch-a, my nigga get wit' cha, and hit you\nTaking that yak to the neck, so you better run a check\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nSo come on and chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nChickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self, boy!\nYeah, come on and check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\n'Cause shotgun bullets are bad for your health\n\nMic-mic-microphone check (One, two! Check it!)\nMic-mic-microphone check (One, two! Check it!)\n\nTricks wanna step to Cube and then they get played\n'Cause they bitchmade, pulling out a switchblade\nThat's kinda trifle 'cause that's a knife, ho\nAK-47, Assault Rifle\nHold the fifty, I'm nifty, pow!\nI got a new style... (Watch out now!)\nI hate motherfuckers claiming that they folding bank\nBut steady talking shit in the holding tank\nFirst, you wanna step to me?\nNow your ass screaming for the deputy\nThey send you to Charlie-Baker-Denver row\nNow they runnin' up in you slow\nYou're gone, used to be the Don Juan (Check that shit out!)\nNow your name is just Twan\nSwitchin', snappin', rollin' your eyes and neck\nYou better run a check\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nCome on and check yo' self before you wrickity-wreck yo' self\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\n'Cause big dicks up yo' ass is bad for ya health\n\nMic-mic-microphone check (One, two! Check it!)\nMic-mic-microphone check (One, two! Check it!)\n\nIf you're foul, you better run a make on that license plate\nYou coulda had a V8\nInstead of a tre-eight slug to the cranium (Pow!)\nI got six and I'm aimin' 'em\nWill I shoot or keep you guessing?\n'Cause fuck you and that shit you're stressing\nBitch, get off the wood, you're no good\nThere goes the neighborhood hooker (Slut!)\nGo ahead and keep your drawers\nGiving up the claps and who needs applause\nAt a time like this, pop the coochie and you dead\nThe bitch is a Miami Hurricane head\nSprung, niggas call her 'Lips & Lungs'\nNappy dugout, get the fuck out!\n'Cause women like you gets no respect\nBitch, you better run a check\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self (Yeah)\nCome on and check yo' self before you wrickity-wreck yo' self\n'Cause bitches like you is bad for my health\n\nMic-mic-microphone check (One, two! Check it!), come again, check it, yeah\nMic-mic-microphone check (One, two! Check it!), come again, check it, yo\n\nChickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nYou better chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self, boy\nI said check yo' self before you wrickity-wreck yo' self (Check, check)\n\nMic-microphone check\nMic-microphone check (Check it, one, two!)\nMic-microphone check (One, two!)\nMic-microphone check (Check it, one, two, one, two!)\nMic-microphone check (One, two!)\nMic-microphone check (Check it, one, two!, one, two!)\nMic-microphone check (One, two)\nMic-microphone\u2014 (Check yo' self Cube, check yo' self Cube, check yo' self... )"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsYou Know How We Do It Lyrics\n\nYeah, yeah\nFool, you know how we do it (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\nWestside\nComin' from the Westside\nNothin' but the Westside (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\n\nAin't nothin' goin' on but the bomb-ass rap song\nHittin' all night long\nJust like me on the black and white ivory\nGettin' six on artillery (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\nYou don't want to see a G\nBreak yo' ass like dishes\nBuster-ass tricks, sleep with the fishes\nRunnin' from Lennox, up at Venice\nThey wanna have me in stripes (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\nLike Dennis the Menace\nBut that ain't poppin', ain't no stoppin'\nFo'-hoppin', ass droppin', Coupe DeVille\nMy troupe can kill, (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh) fool I got skills\nSo, back on up 'fore I check that chin\nDown as fuck and I'm full off Henn'\nYou gets no love and I thought you knew it\nFool, you know how we do it\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nComin' from the Westside\nComin' from the Westside\nWestside, comin' from the Westside\n(Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\n\nChillin' with the homies, smellin' the bud\nDouble-parked and I'm talkin' to Dub\nAbout who got a plan, who got a plot\nWho got got (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\nAnd who got shot\n'Cause everybody knows that he got the info\nCrazy Toones hangin' out the window\nFool, I got them bomb-ass tapes\nDa Lench Mob (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\n\"Planet of the Apes\"\nI'm down with Eiht and Watts Up\nKam and Solo, they got nuts\nWhen Ice Cube write a sentence\nI want The Bomb (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\nJust like George Clinton\nS-K-P is down to catch a body\nPut on \"Knee Deep\", we'll turn out your party\nYou gets no love and I thought you knew it\nFool, (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh) you know how we do it\n(Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh) You know how we do it\n(Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\n\nJack be nimble, and Jack be quick\nIf you wanna jack me on a lick\n'Cause I'm that fool from South Central\nYou'll think you stuck yourself (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\nWith a number two pencil\nThat's how I poke hot lead in yo' ass\nWith \"Mo' Bounce to the Ounce\" in the dash\nMash up, Van Ness, headed for the West\nEverything is great (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\nSlow down for the dip\nOn 100 and 8th and keep mashin'\nDon't drink and drive, to keep the fo' from crashin'\nStashin' a Glock and I thought you knew it\n(Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh) You know how we do it\n\nComin' from the Westside, Westside\n(Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh) Nothin' but the Westside\nIt's hittin' on the Westside\nFool, (Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh) you know how we do it\n(Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)\n(Woh-uh-oh-oh-oh)"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsHello Lyrics\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nHello\n\nI started this gangsta shit\nAnd this the motherfuckin' thanks I get?\nI started this gangsta shit\nAnd this the motherfuckin' thanks I get?\n\nThe motherfuckin' world is a ghetto\nFull of magazines, full clips, and heavy metal\nWhen the smoke settle\nI'm just lookin' for a big yellow\nIn six inch stilettos\nDr. Dre, Hello, perculatin', keep 'em waitin'\nWhile you sittin' here hatin', yo' bitch is hyperventilatin'\nHopin' that we penetratin', you gets naythin'\n'Cause I never been to Satan for hardcore administratin'\nGangbang affiliatin', MC Ren'll have you\nWildin' off a zone and a whole half a gallon\n(Get to dialing) 9-1-1 emergency\n(And you can tell 'em) It's my son, he's hurtin' me\n(And he's a felon) On parole for robbery\nAin't no coppin' a plea, ain't no stoppin' a G\nI'm in the 6, you got to hop in the 3, company monopoly\nYou handle shit sloppily, I drop a ki properly\nThey call me the Don Dada\nPop a collar, drop a dollar, if you hear me you can holla\nEven rottweilers follow the Impala\nWanna talk about this concrete? Nigga, I'm a scholar\nThe incredible, heterosexual, credible\nBeg a ho, let it go, dick ain't edible\nNigga ain't federal, I plan shit\nWhile you, hand picked motherfuckers, givin' up transcripts\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes (Hello)\n\nI started this gangsta shit\nAnd this the motherfuckin' thanks I get?\nI started this gangsta shit\nAnd this the motherfuckin' thanks I get?\n\nVillain blows up yo' spot\nTake yo' notebook, yo' bitch and yo' Glock\nThis motherfucker thought the coochie had a padlock\nYou slapped her ass, that's alarmin'\n'Cause she want my Worm like Carmen\nWe chin check niggas, them thin check niggas\nRun trains on gold diggers, beware these fo' niggas\nScarin' motherfuckers like Stephen King flicks\nMakin' niggas clear the room like a dyke fleein' dick\nMakin 2nd II None shit, nigga like Quik\nSo when I bomb first, nigga, who you rollin' with?\nFuck that ice on your wrist, fuck yo' fine ass bitch\n'Cause you could lose it in a tussle, nigga, watch me hustle\nWatch niggas kiss my ass without flexin' a muscle\nBitches, all in the back, they knees waitin' to buckle\nSame time, same channel, don't change the dial\nNiggas 4 Life, fuckin' your wife, these niggas wild (Hello)\nI started this gangsta shit\nAnd this the motherfuckin' thanks I get?\nI started this gangsta shit\nAnd this the motherfuckin' thanks I get?\n\nDid I fall off? Got you in your room\nRippin' every \"Chronic\" poster on your wall off\nJust 'cause I put away the sawed off\nNow I got you sittin' back with a smirk\nListening with your arms crossed\nQuestioning Dre's credibility (What?)\nWondering if it's still in me to produce hits\nY'all be killin' me\nAs if I need to make mo', I got a mansion\nAnd six cars that are paid fo', suck my dick! (Hello)\nWe came a long way from not givin' a fuck\nSellin' tapes out of a trunk to movin' this far up\nNow we got the whole world starstruck\nMade a million-plus and still don't give a motherfuck\nMotherfucker, I'm Dre! I don't need your respect\nI don't need to make another album, bitch, I don't gotta do shit\nI do it because I want to, not to stay in the game\nFuck the fame, I'm still stayin' the same, lil' bitch! (Hello)\nI started this gangsta shit\nAnd this the motherfuckin' thanks I get?\nI started this gangsta shit\nAnd this the motherfuckin' thanks I get?\n\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes (Hello)\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes\nLook at these Niggas With Attitudes"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsThe Nigga Ya Love To Hate Lyrics\nI heard payback's a motherfucking nigga\nThat's why I'm sick of getting treated like a goddamn stepchild\nFuck a punk, 'cause I ain't him\nYou gotta deal with the nine-double-M\nThe day is coming that you'll all hate\nJust think if niggas decide to retaliate\nThey try to keep me from running up\nI never tell you to get down, it's all about coming up\nSo what they do, go and ban the AK?\nMy shit wasn't registered any fucking way\nSo you better duck away, run and hide out\nWhen I'm rolling real slow and the lights out\n'Cause I'm about to fuck up the program\nShooting out the window of a drop-top Brougham\nWhen I'm shooting, let's see who drop\nThe police, the media, and suckers that went pop?\nAnd motherfuckers that say they too black\nPut 'em overseas, they be begging to come back\nAnd say we promote gangs and drugs\nYou wanna sweep a nigga like me up under the rug\nKicking shit called street knowledge\nWhy more niggas in the pen' than in college?\nBecause of that line, I might be your cellmate\nThat's from the nigga ya love to hate\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\n(Fuck you Ice Cube!)\nYeah, haha! It\u2019s the nigga you love to hate\n(Fuck you Ice Cube!)\n(Ay yo baby, your mother warned you about me)\nIt's the nigga you love to hate\n(Yo, you ain\u2019t doin' nothin' positive!\nYo, you ain\u2019t doin' nothin 'positive for the brothers, what you gotta say for yourself?)\n(You don't like how I'm living? Well, fuck you)\n\nOnce again it's on, the motherfucking psycho\nIce Cube the bitch-killer, cap-peeler\nYo, running through the line like Bo, there's no pot to piss in\nI put my fist in\nNow, who do ya love to hate?\nCause I talk shit and down the eight-ball 'cause I don't fake\nYou're begging I fall off\nThe crossover, might as well cut them balls off\nAnd get your ass ready for the Lenching\nThe Mob is dropping common sense and\nWe'll gank in the pen', we'll shank\nAny Tom, Dick and Hank, and get the ass spanked\nIt ain't about how right or wrong you live, but how long you live\nI ain't with the bullshit\nI meet mo' bitches, mo' hoes\nDon't wanna sleep, so I keep popping No-Doz\nAnd tell the young people what they gotta know\n'Cause I hate when niggas gotta live low\nAnd if you're locked up I dedicate my stylin'\nFrom San Quentin to Rikers Island\nWe got 'em afraid of the funky shit\nI like to clown so pump up the sound\nIn your Jeep, make the old ladies say\n\"Oh my god \u2014 brake, it's the nigga ya love to hate\"\n(Fuck you Ice Cube)\nYeah come on fool, it\u2019s the nigga you love to hate\n(Fuck you Ice Cube)\nYeah, what up, punk? It\u2019s the nigga you love to hate\nA bitch is a...ohhhh\n\nSoul Train done lost they soul\nJust call it train cause the bitches look like hoes\nI see a lotta others damn\nIt almost look like the Bandstand\nYou ask me: \"did I like Arsenio?\"\nAbout as much as the Bicentennial\nI don't give a fuck about dissing these fools\n'Cause they all scared of the Ice Cube\nAnd what I say, what I portray and all that\nAnd ain't even seen the gat\nI don't wanna see no dancing\nI'm sick of that shit -- listen to the hit\n'Cause yo if I look and see another brother\nOn the video trying to out-dance each other\nI'ma tell T-Bone to pass the bottle\nAnd don't give me that shit about role model\nIt ain't wise to chastise and preach\nJust open the eyes of each\n'Cause laws are made to be broken up\nWhat niggas need to do is start loc-ing up\nAnd build mold and fold theyself into shape\nOf the nigga you love to hate"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsCheck Yo Self (Remix) Lyrics\nYeah\nSo come on and chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nCheck (Yeah)\nWho's there?\n(Yeah) Check\n\nYou better check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\n'Cause I'm bad for your health\nI come real stealth\nDropping bombs on your moms\nFuck car alarms\nDoing foul crime\nI'm that nigga wit'cha Alpine\nSold it for a six-o, always let tricks know\nAnd friends know we got the indo\nNo, I'm not a sucker sitting in a House of Pain\nAnd no, I'm not the butler, I'll cut ya\nHead-butt ya, you say you can't touch this\nAnd I wouldn't touch ya, punk motherfucker\nHere to let you know, boy, oh boy\nI make dough, but don't call me Doughboy\nThis ain't no fucking motion picture\nA guy or bitch-a, my nigga get wit' cha\nAnd hit you, taking that yak to the neck\nSo you better run a check\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nSo come on and chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nChickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nYeah, come on and check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\n'Cause shotgun bullets are bad for your health\n\nChickity-check, yeah\nChickity-check, ahhh!\n\nTricks wanna step to Cube and then they get played\n'Cause they bitchmade, pulling out a switchblade\nThat's kinda trifle 'cause that's a knife, ho\nAK-47, assault rifle\nHold the fifty, I'm nifty, pow\nI got a new style (Watch out now)\nI hate motherfuckers claiming that they folding bank\nBut steady talking shit in the holding tank\nFirst, you wanna step to me?\nNow your ass screaming for the deputy\nThey send you to Charlie-Baker-Denver row\nNow they runnin' up in you slow\nYou're gone, used to be the Don Juan\nNow your name is just Twan\nSwitchin', snappin', rollin' your eyes and neck\nYou better run a check\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nCome on and check yo' self before you wrickity-wreck yo' self\nChickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nBig dicks in yo' ass is bad for ya health\n\nChickity-check, (Punk) yeah\nChickity-check, yeah (Ahhh!)\n\nYo, it's the niggas again\nWatch out, you need to check yo' self, you know what I'm sayin'?\n'Cause niggas is definitely fallin' off\nWord is bond, word is bond\n\nIf you're foul, you better run a make on that license plate\nYou coulda had a V8\nInstead of a tre-eight slug to your cranium (Pow!)\nI got six and I'm aimin' em\nWill I buss or keep you guessing?\n'Cause fuck you and that shit you're stressing\nBitch, get off the wood, you're no good\nThere goes the neighborhood hooker\nGo ahead and keep your drawers\nGiving up the claps and who needs applause\nAt a time like this, pop the coochie and you dead\nThe bitch is a Miami Hurricane head\nSprung, niggas call her 'Lips & Lungs'\nNappy dugout, get the fuck out\n'Cause women like you gets no respect\nBitch, you better run a check\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nCome on and check yo' self before you wrickity-wreck yo' self\n'Cause bitches like you is bad for my health, uh\n\nChickity-check, (Punk) yeah\nChickity-check, yeah (Ahhh!)\n\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nCome on and check yo' self before you wrickity-wreck yo' self (Ahhh!)\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nSo chickity-check yo' self before you wreck yo' self\nCome on and check yo' self before you wrickity-wreck yo' self\n'Cause the Lench Mob is bad for you's health\n\nNine Trey, remix!\nOld school tip, yeah\nIt's like a jungle sometimes\nIt makes me wonder\nHow I keep from going under"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsYou Can Do It Lyrics\nYay-yay\nGet your ass up and hurr' up, uh\nIce Cube, baby\nNinety-nine, baby\nI'm on the grind, baby\nAll the time, baby\nShow me something\n\nYou can do it, put your back into it (Uh)\nI can do it, put your ass into it (Uh-huh)\nYou can do it, put your back into it (Yeah)\nI can do it, put your ass into it\nPut your back into it, put your ass into it (Brr)\n\nTick, tick, boom, hear me banging down these back streets\nBumpin' Blackstreet, treated like a athlete\nLife ain't a track meet (No), it's a marathon\nFuck the cemetery that a nigga get buried on\nWe be clubbin' 'til the day we die (Yay-yay)\nNigga, ask the bartender if you think we lie\nBut if you think we high, nigga, think again\n'Cause when it's sink or swim, you got to think to win (Uh-huh)\nAnd if I drink this Hen', everybody'll know it\n'Cause I ain't going for it, so pray to the Lord\nThat I don't pull out, cuss out and bust out\nGo the nigga route (Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click), make the trigger shout, uh\nYou can try to smoke an ounce to this\nWhile I pronounce this shit, baby, bounce them tits\nMama, move them hips, baby, shake them cheeks\nI got dick for days, you got ass for weeks (Yay-yay)\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nDon't stop, get it, get it (That's real)\nDon't stop, nigga, hit it (I will)\nI'm gon' do it (Do it), gon' do it (Do it)\nGon' do it, do it, do it (Uh-huh)\n\nYou can do it, put your back into it (C'mon)\nI can do it, put your ass into it (C'mon)\nYou can do it, put your back into it (C'mon)\nI can do it, put your ass into it\nPut your back into it, put your ass into it\n\nNow all I wanna do is have fun with my loved ones (What?)\nThe thug ones, relatives and my cousins\nAnd I got 'em by the dozen\nWhen they buzzin', quick to say fuck your husband\nThis is for my niggas locked away\nExtra love for the ones who ain't got no date\nBut when we hit checkmate with Ice Cube the great (The great)\nSoon as I get a word, we can rush the safe\nFuck them license plates because life is great\nIt don't matter if you're rich and your folks ain't straight\nI'm still coming with that underground gangsta shit\nNo matter how many niggas say we ain't the shit, bitch\nDon't stop, get it, get it (That's real)\nDon't stop, nigga, hit it (I will)\nI'm gon' do it (Do it), gon' do it (Do it)\nGon' do it, do it, do it (Uh-huh)\n\nYou can do it, put your back into it (C'mon)\nI can do it, put your ass into it (C'mon)\nYou can do it, put your back into it (C'mon)\nI can do it, put your ass into it\nPut your back into it, put your ass into it\n\nI do hard core rhymin', hard time grindin'\nGorilla pimp hoes while other niggas wine and dine 'em\nGotta love this thug shit, S-Class in the mud shit\nPockets on flood shit, OG, lyrical Blood shit\nI don't rent, I buy shit, niggas jealous of my shit\nUnaware of this young nigga getting all this fly shit\nWhile you're rootin' and recruitin', nigga, 6-8 hoopin'\nI was in the hood shootin', plus I had the wife whoopin'\nI come from Pyrex bowls and oversized jars\nI'm past up stripes, I got stars and bars\nNo time for playa hatin', Mack paper chasin'\nKicked out the substation to the hip-hop nation\nThe mo' hits the mo' bigga with illegal weight figgas\nDone developed the status of a Platinum-plus nigga\nBust the first bad ho, fo' sho, I can I can hit it\nI keep pushing, don't quit it, don't stop 'til I get it, uh\nDon't stop, get it, get it (That's real)\nDon't stop, nigga, hit it (I will)\nI'm gon' do it (Do it), gon' do it (Do it)\nGon' do it, do it, do it (Say what?)\n\nYou can do it, put your back into it (Uh-huh)\nI can do it, put your ass into it (C'mon)\nYou can do it, put your back into it (C'mon)\nI can do it, put your ass into it\nYou can do it, put your back into it\nI can do it, put your ass into it (C'mon)\nYou can do it, put your back into it (C'mon)\nI can do it, put your ass into it\n\nDon't stop, get it, get it (Never, never, that's real)\nDon't stop, nigga, hit it (Uh, I will)\nI'm gon' do it (Do it), gon' do it (Do it)\nGon' do it, do it, do it\n\nYou can do it, put your back into it (C'mon, yay-yay)\nI can do it, put your ass into it (C'mon, yay-yay)\nYou can do it, put your back into it (C'mon)\nI can do it, put your ass into it, put your ass into it\n\nWe be clubbin' (Freaky gyrations, close to fornication)\nWe be clubbin'\nWe be clubbin' (Freaky gyrations, close to fornication)\nYeah (Freaky gyrations, close to fornication), uh-huh\nIce Cube, Westside Connect gang\nYou know how we do it\nWe put it down constantly\nConstantly\nUh, uh, uh, uh\nGet your ass up and hurr' up"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsWhy We Thugs Lyrics\nYeah, every hood's the same\nEvery hood's the same, come on\n\nThey give us guns and drugs\nThen wonder why in the fuck we thugs\nThey wanna count the slugs\nThen come around here and fuck with us\nThey give us guns and drugs\nThen wonder why in the fuck we thugs\nThey wanna count the slugs\nThen come around here and fuck with us\n\nI'm from the land of the gang bang\nSince I was little, ain't a goddamn thang changed\nIt\u2019s the same old same\nBush run shit like Saddam Hussein\nI cock and aim, clinically insane\nTo deal with this bullshit day-to-day\nIf I sell some yay or smoke some hay\nYou bitches wanna throw me up in Pelican's Bay\nCall me an animal up in the system\nBut who's the animal that built this prison?\nWho's the animal that invented lower-livin'?\nThe projects, thank God for Russell Simmons\nThank God for Sugarhill\nI'm putting a different kind of steel up to my grill\nY'all know what it is, scared for your own kids\nHow these ghetto niggas taken over showbiz\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nThey give us guns and drugs\nThen wonder why in the fuck we thugs\nThey wanna count the slugs\nThen come around here and fuck with us\nThey give us guns and drugs\nThen wonder why in the fuck we thugs\nThey wanna count the slugs\nThen come around here and fuck with us\n\nIt's boys in the hood, it's toys in the hood\nY'all wanna know why there's noise in the hood\n\u2018Cause there's drugs in the hood, thugs in the hood\nNigga killed a Crip and a Blood in the hood\n\u2018Cause when niggas get tribal\nIt's all about survival, nobody liable\nI got caught by Five-O\nGrandmama came to court with her Bible\nBut when the judge hit the gavel\nNow I'm too far from my family to travel\nI just came unraveled\nSocked the D.A. before I got gaffled\nOwned by C.A, State Property\nJust like the year fifteen fifty three\nLooking for me, a one-way ticket out\nDon't understand, what's so hard to figure out?\nThey give us guns and drugs\nThen wonder why in the fuck we thugs\nThey wanna count the slugs\nThen come around here and fuck with us\nThey give us guns and drugs\nThen wonder why in the fuck we thugs\nThey wanna count the slugs\nThen come around here and fuck with us\n\nDamn, I can't take the pressure\nPulled the 4-4 up out the dresser\nGrabbed the weight up out the closet\nPo-po coming, but I'm scared to toss it\nY'all know what happened last time I lost it\nCan't tell you niggas what the fuckin' boss did\nD game got a nigga exhausted\nGotta go for the plea bargain they offered\nTwenty years for what?\nBreaking these laws that's so corrupt\nTaking these halls and fillin' them up\nSome powder keg shit that's about to erupt\nAye, y'all, I'm about to be stuck\nUntil the year two thousand, what the fuck?\nIn the hood, don't press your luck\n\u2018Cause these motherfuckers will set you up, word up\nThey give us guns and drugs\nThen wonder why in the fuck we thugs\nThey wanna count the slugs\nThen come around here and fuck with us\nThey give us guns and drugs\nThen wonder why in the fuck we thugs\nThey wanna count the slugs\nThen come around here and fuck with us\n\nEvery hood's the same, every hood's the same\nEvery hood's the same, every hood's the same\nEvery hood's the same, stop trippin on it\nEvery hood's the same, every hood's the same\nEvery hood's the same, every hood's the same\nEvery hood's the same"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsGood Cop Bad Cop Lyrics\nTurn me loose\nBreak 'em off some\nYeah\n\nGood cop, good cop rollin' with that bad cop\nWhatcha doin', boy? Turn in that blood clot\nBuck shots, they fly through that drug spot\nRobots can give a damn who the fuck shot\nClean cop, clean cop, fuckin' with that dirty cop\nDon't act like yo ass never heard of that\nClean cop, clean cop rollin' with that mean cop\nStill tryna act proud as a peacock\nYou know that mean cop might need a detox\nMothafucka tried to blow me out my Reeboks\nBut I swing like Jack and the Beanstalk\nChop 'em down when these bitches try to lock me down\nHit the ground, hit the turf\nWarp the earth\nCube kidnap your mind, Patty Hearst\nBust a verse that'll make yo ass hit reverse\nKill the curse that was placed on the universe\nWest Coast warlord blacker than the Black Knight\nFuck a black and white when they ain't actin' right\nGood cop, good cop fillin' out your report\nBad cop asking you to distort\nBad cop asking you to lie in court\nSend another young brother up north\nSend another young sista off course\nWhile these mothafuckas chill on the golf course\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nBlack police showin' out for the white cop\nWhite police showin' out for the black cop\nBlack police showin' out for the white cop\nWhite police showin' out for the black cop\n\nLazy cop fuckin' with that crazy cop\nAlways bragging 'bout the new case he got\nDo-or-die cop with that suicide cop\nTell-the-truth cop, with that you-a-lie cop\nAre you fuckin' high, cop? Don't even try cop\nAin't no mothafuckin' drugs up in my spot\nAll you find in my closet is the high tops\nAnd my mothafuckin' tickets to the skybox\nHold up, nigga, I'm a rider\nYou's a roll-up, yep the controller\nMake me mad that's when I get swole up (Don't touch me)\nThe Incredible Hulk is bipolar\nCome out the cuffs, knock off the rust\nThrow my hands (What's up?) up you still wanna bust\nThe Trojan horse is full of excessive force\nWhen they try to get aggressive niggas off the porch (C'mon)\n\nBlack police showin' out for the white cop\nWhite police showin' out for the black cop\nBlack police showin' out for the white cop\nWhite police showin' out for the black cop\nGood cop, good cop, where is your dignity?\nWhere's your empathy? Where is your sympathy?\nBad cop, where's your humanity?\nGood cop, is that just a fantasy?\nTell on that nigga, snitch on that bitch\nTruth be told, mothafuck the blue code\nFuck the po-po actin' like Deebo\nAlready know Craig'll let the brick go\nBlack Lives Matter is not chit chatter\n'Cause all they wanna do, is scatter brain matter\nA mind is a terrible thing to waste\nA nine is terrible in your face\nThe mace has a terrible fuckin' taste\nThe pen is a terrible fuckin' place (Let me out)\nThe kings all hate the fuckin' ace\nThe judge sabotaged my fuckin' case\nRacist motherfucker\n\nBlack police showin' out for the white cop\nWhite police showin' out for the black cop"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsArrest The President Lyrics\nYeah\nWhen I drop the mic it hit the floor like Thor (That's right)\nYou can't pick it up no more (Don't even try)\nY'all know what it is, y'all know what it was (Yeah)\nY'all know what it shall be\n\nGet smart 'fore the shit start\n'Fore it get dark, 'fore they hit you with the pitchfork\nBetter crip walk (Crip walk), this is real talk\nSmoke kush and bush, then we peel off (Eugh)\nNiggas still rollin' with the wheels off (Eugh)\nAlways lookin' out for the crisscross\nI'm a bigger boss than Rick Ross\nAlways winnin', nigga, get lost\nIt's the warlord, bring the voodoo\nWhen I bail through, it's crazy like Bellevue\nWhat they tell you? (Leave that boy alone) Leave that boy alone\nLike Home Alone (Yeah), fuck a skull and bone\nArrest the president, you got the evidence\nThat nigga is Russian intelligence (Okay)\nWhen it rains it pours\nDid you know the new white was orange?\nBoy, you're showing your horns\nThey're tryin' to replace my halo with thorns\nYou so basic with your vape stick\nLet's go apeshit in the matrix\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nArrest the president, arrest the president\nArrest the president, you got the evidence (Nigga)\nArrest the president, arrest the president (Crazy)\nArrest the president, you got the evidence\n\nI took back my ice, in all black tonight\nThat's right, some niggas gotta sacrifice\nNot a criminal (No), I'm a seminal (Yeah)\nI was free once, now I'm clinical (Crazy)\nYou so technical, this was Mexico\nNow everywhere I go is owned by Texaco (Fuck them)\nFuck them and the rest of you (Hell yeah)\nI turn a fruit into a vegetable (Pop you motherfuckers out)\nI'ma roll with the aliens\nMan, fuck these homo sapiens\nThey don't really wanna make friends (Hell no)\nAll they want is a Mercedes Benz (Hell yeah)\nAll they want is they dividends\nAnd decibels, fuck these citizens\nThey'll treat us like hooligans\nThrow 'em in, they don't care what school he in\nThese people don't play fair\nIt ain't even fair at the state fair\nGive a young nigga grey hair\nThat's why I'm here, make your ass lay there\nPunk, you better stay there\nClose your fucking eyes like it's day care\nMake myself clearer than Shakespeare\nI'm here to take money even fake hair\nSo desperate is what I'm left with\nFor the record you affected\nWho you elected is so septic\nSo full of shit, I can't accept it\nArrest the president (Woo), arrest the president (Woo)\nArrest the president, you got the evidence (Nigga)\nArrest the president (Nigga), arrest the president (Nigga)\nArrest the president, you got the evidence (Nigga)\nArrest the president (Nigga), arrest the president (Nigga)\nArrest the president, you got the evidence (Nigga)\nArrest the president (Nigga), arrest the president (Nigga)\nArrest the president, you got the evidence\n\nI reside on the Westside (Westside)\nI murder with my third eye (Third eye)\nNiggas so fly, get a bird's eye (Ahh, ahh)\nI make 'em scream bloody murder\nLet's meet at the White House (Come on)\nRun in and turn the lights out\nMan, they treat it like a trap house (Yeah)\nThese motherfuckers never take the trash out (Damn)\nThey just cash out and mash out\nNigga take your drugs and pass out (Shut the fuck up)\nNiggas love to go that fast route (Yeah)\nI see you and your black ass, get out\nHomie, you play too much (Yeah)\nWhile these devils, they doin' way too much (Much)\nMost of 'em won't say too much\nWhile they steady plannin' God knows what (God knows what)\nThat's why I roll with the real ones\nReal ones tryin' to reach millions\nReal ones tryin' to make billions\nReal ones dressed like civilians\nArrest the president, arrest the president\nArrest the president, you got the evidence (Woo)\nArrest the president (Woo), arrest the president (Woo)\nArrest the president, you got the evidence"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsGo To Church Lyrics\nNigga, you need to stop snitchin'\nAll that yip-yappin' and jaw-jackin'\nNigga, if you scared, go to church\nYou knew the job was dangerous when you took it\nWhat up, it's the big boss Dogg, Snoop D-O-double-G, eastside L-B-C\nAnd I'm bobbin' to the beat of my OG homeboy Ice Cube\nAnd I'm c-walkin' on the motherfuckin' concrete\n\nYo, if you're fucked up, put your cups up\nIce Cube and Snoop Dogg, nigga, what's up?\nSee, he's a gangster, I'm a hustler\nYo, it's either thank ya or it's fuck ya\n\nI'm down with Lil Jon, ain't got to pretend (Yeah)\nCrunk juice, nigga, run the club that you in (Hey)\nYou scary motherfuckers don't wanna bring the ruckus (Nah)\nYou just spend all your time in the club tryna duck us (What?)\nAnd if you walk by, nigga, I'ma knock fire, nigga\nFrom your ass, you can come try, nigga (Hey)\nIn the hood, all the way down south (Yeah)\nI ain't Mike Jones, keep my name out'cha mouth, bitch (Mike Jones)\nWe can get it crackin' if it get to clickin' clackin'\nLook at Mister Jackson, nigga, with no reaction\nIf you scared, go to church, we gon' hit you where it hurts\nThat don't work, we'll put you in the dirt (Hey)\n'Cause a whole lot of rappers make a whole lotta noise (Hey)\nLyrics full of steroids, niggas paranoid (Hey)\nAnd when you get that blowup, it make you throw up\nWhen you realize your favorite rapper ain't got no nuts\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nIf you a scared motherfucker, go to church (Go to church)\nIf you a gutter motherfucker, do your dirt (A do your dirt)\nIf you a down motherfucker, put in work (A put in work)\nIf you a crazy motherfucker, go berzerk (A go berzerk)\nIf you a scared motherfucker, go to church (Go to church)\nIf you a gutter motherfucker, do your dirt (A do your dirt)\nIf you a down motherfucker, put in work (A put in work)\nIf you a crazy motherfucker, go berzerk (A go berzerk)\n\nClick-clackin', pistol packin', Crip raggin' folio\nWho the only nigga in the club with the toolio?\nYou ain't know? Yeah, you did; there it was, there it is\n\"Is that Coolio?\", nah, bitch, let me in\nJibber-jabber, snatch ya, get at ya\nSpit at actors and rappers\nHang out with kidnappers and jackers\nMake money off crackers; can you imagine how I keep shit crackin'?\nIt's the big boss Dogg, I'm back in action and smashin'\nI flash with the bling, I surpass the supreme\nYou don't really wanna have a clash with my team\nI mix hash with the green, I'm the last of the kings\nIf I got a bitch with me, she got ass in them jeans\nRollin' through your neighborhood, my Cadillac so clean\nServin' all you suckas, 'cause you all dope fiends\nJust like that dope man, nigga, what's up?\nYou run up with that bullshit, I'll fuck yo' ass up\nIf you a scared motherfucker, go to church (Go to church)\nIf you a gutter motherfucker, do your dirt (A do your dirt)\nIf you a down motherfucker, put in work (A put in work)\nIf you a crazy motherfucker, go berzerk (A go berzerk)\nIf you a scared motherfucker, go to church (Go to church)\nIf you a gutter motherfucker, do your dirt (A do your dirt)\nIf you a down motherfucker, put in work (A put in work)\nIf you a crazy motherfucker, go berzerk (A go berzerk)\n\nYou scared, you scared\nYou scared, motherfucker, you scared\nYou scared (You scared), you scared (You scared)\nYou scared, motherfucker, you scared (You scared)\nYou scared, you scared\nYou scared, motherfucker, you scared\nYou scared (You scared), you scared (You scared)\nYou scared, motherfucker, you scared (You scared)\n\nIf you a scared motherfucker, go to church (Go to church)\nIf you a gutter motherfucker, do your dirt (A do your dirt)\nIf you a down motherfucker, put in work (A put in work)\nIf you a crazy motherfucker, go berzerk (A go berzerk)\nIf you a scared motherfucker, go to church (Go to church)\nIf you a gutter motherfucker, do your dirt (A do your dirt)\nIf you a down motherfucker, put in work (A put in work)\nIf you a crazy motherfucker, go berzerk (A go berzerk)\nIt goes one for the money (Hey), two for the show (Yeah)\nThree for the pussy, four for the glow (Hey)\nFive for the rookies, six for the pros (Nah)\nSeven for the numbers of them fuckin' zeroes (What?)\nEight for the haters, nine for the cause\nTen for my niggas behind big bars (Hey)\nFuck these devils and they laws (Yeah)\nNever question the size of Ice Cube's balls"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsNobody Wants to Die Lyrics\nEverybody wants to go to Heaven\nY'all thought I was soft as cotton\nEverybody wants to go to Heaven\nMessed around and forgot I was rotten\nEverybody wants to go to Heaven\nYou know my resume\nYou tell 'em I'm on my way\nBut nobody (You tell 'em, I'm on my way)\nAh nobody wants to die\n\nI keep my mind on my money, I keep my hand on my gunny\nDon't get to playin' with sonny, unless you Playboy Bunny\nI'll put four in your tummy, tap two in your brain\nSee the man ain't playing, if you think it's a game\nHaters whisper my name, suckers want what I slang\nArrogant and I'm vain, DA want me to hang\nBut let me explain, like Abel and Cain\nThat the black Grim Reaper is not my brother's keeper\nRevenge, revenge a killer's on a binge of revenge\nIt depends if I can live with my sins\nLose family and friends (lost em all)\nNow you got to lose life and limb, spit phlegm on them\nGot the code of Rakim, homey, jokes ain't allowed\nAnd you boy ain't scared to move the crowd with something loud\nIf you doubt what I'm about, go ahead an run your mouth\nI'm the last thing you see when your time is running out, trick\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nEverybody wants to go to Heaven\nI'll send you fast boy, with a blast boy (first class, boy)\nEverybody wants to go to Heaven\nMessin' with the wrong one, send you on that long run\nEverybody wants to go to Heaven (I ain't the one, son)\nPop you like a pro, now you good to go (yeah)\nBut nobody (Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody)\nAh nobody wants to die\n\nYou forgot where I come from, you forgot what I do\nYou forgot what you was sayin', cuz I'm blockin' your view\nNow I got you on cue, you about to turn blue\nGet around me now you actin' like my little nephew\nBoy what you wan' do? You ain't gon' do ish\nBut go take a ish, is 'bout as funky as it get\nNow I'ma have to admit, that I was prolly too nice\nBut take my advice or I'll take your life\nNow if you still wanna slice, let's start with the fingers\nLet's move to the toes, and end with the penis\nSee men are from Mars, now you from Venus\nHow dumb you got to be tryin' to think with the genius\nIt's the big payback, you can't clown James Brown\nSee a brother been down ever since Jamestown\nYou either swim or you're drowned, you either gagged or you're bound\nNow you can't make a sound, boy look at you now\nEverybody wants to go to Heaven\nI'll send you fast boy, with a blast boy (first class, boy)\nEverybody wants to go to Heaven\nMessin' with the wrong one, send you on that long run\nEverybody wants to go to Heaven (I ain't the one, Crip)\nPop you like a pro, now you good to go (Go on)\nBut nobody (Nobody, na)\nAh nobody wants to die"}
{"text":"49 ContributorsHood Mentality Lyrics\nThe hood mentality is a crippling disease that attacks your nervous system\nIt makes you nervous of the system\nGangsters and hood rats are especially susceptible to this grown-stunting mentality\nThe hood is where I'm from, but it's not what I am\nThe hood is where I'm from, but it's not what I am\n\nFuck school nigga, I'mma be a dope dealer\nI'mma be a killer, yep a urban guerrilla\nI'mma stack scrilla, yeah buy me a villa\nSell a 5-0 to my auntie Priscilla\nI don't give a fuck that she look like \"Thriller\"\nHit that shit one more time and fuck around and kill her\nCause I got the heart of a Pittsburgh Steeler\nBlack nigga draped in gold, with a nine milla\nLove money, love jail, love that penitentiary mail\nLove the way these niggas smell, keep coming back, can't you tell?\nLove to see my mama cry, love to see my babies struggle\nLove to see my woman juggle nuts cause she got to hustle\nI don't give a fuck how my life go\nNow I'm a slave man to this caveman without Geico\nEverybody wanna call Michael a psycho\nBut he ain't never came through the hood with a rifle\nGunning niggas down cause they don't got the right clothes\nHit the wrong person cause we shoot just like hoes\nFirst I was blood thirsty, Mister Mister Controversy\nNow I wanna beg for mercy, should have took my ass to Berkeley\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\n\nFuck school nigga, if I grow a little taller\nEverybody tell me I'm gon' do it, I'm gon' be a baller\nSo fuck that thinking, fuck that thinking\nFuck them Lincolns, I want Franklins\nCome back through here with my crew, I'm gon' have my own shoe\nI'm gon' be that little fool coming in your living room\nStarting point guard nigga, fresh out of middle school\nEither it's the NBA or it's the NFL\nI don't know what else I can do to keep my ass up out of jail\nI wanna be like Tiger Woods, swing that club, make you sick\n(I wanna be like Pacman Jones), (I wanna be like Michael Vick)\nI wanna be like Barry Bonds, (I wanna be like O.J. Simpson)\nLeave this field, leave this prison\nTell you motherfuckers where to kiss 'em\nI wanna be all broke up, moving all old and slow\nI wanna be a alcoholic just like Broadway Joe\nI wanna be a sideshow, kinda like Iron Mike\nUsed to have a few Bentleys, now I just ride a bike\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\n\nFuck school nigga, they ain't trying to educate me\nAll they give a fuck is what I memorized lately\nI'm gon' have to teach myself, clock that money, get that wealth\nI wanna be like Santa Claus, I don't wanna be no fucking elf\nNo kid left behind but he get the runaround\nCan't you motherfuckers see that they trying to dumb us down?\nDon't trust the government, President is for sale\nHe don't give a fuck about a nigga, just a oil well\nSell crack, go to jail, bust a rap, go to hell\nDo I got to sell my soul if I wanna go to Yale?\nGo kiss Oprah's ass if you wanna be Gail\nI'd rather have my ass kissed up in Bloomingdale\nYou can go be a pimp, you can go be a ho\nBut you only gon' get paid off what you know\nIf you don't know shit, then you can't work for me\nCause you read your first book in the penitentiary\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?\nIf you don't wanna shake that hood mentality\nHow the fuck we supposed to change our reality?"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsBlack Korea Lyrics\nEvery time I wanna go get a fuckin' brew\nI gotta go down to the store with the two\nOriental one penny countin' motherfuckers\nThat make a nigga mad enough to cause a little ruckus\nThinkin' every brother in the world's out to take\nSo they watch every damn move that I make\nThey hope I don't pull out a gat and try to rob\nThey funky little store, but, bitch, I got a job\nLook, you little Chinese motherfucker\nI ain't tryin' to steal none of this shit\nLeave me alone! (Mother fuck you, yo, yo, check it out)\nSo don't follow me up and down your market\nOr your little chop suey ass'll be a target\nOf a nationwide boycott\nJuice with the people, that's what the boy got\nSo pay respect to the Black fist\nOr we'll burn your store right down to a crisp\nAnd then we'll see ya\n'Cause you can't turn the ghetto into Black Korea\n\nMother fuck youSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like"}
{"text":"43 ContributorsSmoke Some Weed Lyrics\nIce Cube motherfucker\nWest coast motherfucker\nGeorge Bush, George Clinton, Bill Clinton\nChris Farley, Chris Rock, Bob Marley\nRick James, knew how to throw a party\n\"Smoke some weed\"\nSnoop Dogg, all the way to Cheech and Chong\nCypress Hill, Robert Downey hit the bong\nRicky Williams, fuck how Miami feeling\n\"Smoke some weed\"\n\nThis is West coast nigga thinking\nCalifornia quicksand got a nigga sinking\nI can give a fuck what you niggas drinking\nSmoke some weed\nThis is West coast nigga thinking\nCalifornia quicksand got a nigga sinking\nI can give a fuck what you bitches drinking\nSmoke some weed\n\nIf you a baller, nigga I'm a hall of famer\nLion tamer, with two fo'-fifth flamers\nUnderstand, that yo' life's in danger\nDidn't your momma, tell you not to talk to strangers\nLil' nigga, I'm the Hillside Strangler\nHave a banger, calling for the Lone Ranger\nMost rappers, they wanna fuck sangers\nI'm a nigga, that wanna own Topanga\nG4, pull it up out the hanger\nA lil' something, to fuel you niggas anger\nThe swine, I'm your face rearranger\nIn a mansion cause Jesus born in a manger\nMotherfucker, belong on Jerry Spranger\nI'm a gangsta, up in your CD changer\nI'll gank ya, for 20 bucks then I'll thank ya\nPolice, still get the middle fanger\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\n\nLil' niggas, don't try this at home\nMomma in the bathroom leave her ass alone\nCause she probably taking chronic straight to the dome\nGo play you lil' fucker, stop being grown\nDave Chappelle, 50 million and a throne\nWith a big Zulu bitch, nigga getting blown\nWatch your tone, if your wear Coppertone\nGo back to Africa used to be a theme song\nI'm in the zone, do anybody got a Zong?\nI ain't your poppa, but daddy is a rolling stone\nYouse a clone, who don't know the shit you on\nUnless it's on, a motherfucking ringtone\nI'm in a room with two bottles of Patron\nYou need a loan, to fuck with the Family Stone\nNigga go on, tell 'em Ice Cube is home\nGorilla niggas, here come King Kong\n\n\nIce Cube motherfucka\nWest Coast motherfucka\nSmoke some weed"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsFriday Lyrics\nYou know it ain't no stoppin' all the dogs I'm droppin'\nIt's Friday night so everything is poppin'\nI gots ten to spend on the Hen\nSo let the games begin\nYakety yak don't talk back or it's on\nCallin' up Earl on the car phone\nMack 10 just got out of court\nRollin' through the hood in his super sport bumping Too $hort\nEighteens got the rear view mirrors vibratin'\nAnd deep-dish Daytons\nYou know how we do it\nAin't nothing to it but the floss\nOvercrowding Harrison-Ross\n'Cause if you fuck with ours\nWe leave scars\nOut of G-ride cars\nLivin' like stars\nMight hit the highway\nOn the Vegas run fool 'cause it's Friday\n\nOh yeah\nThrow your neighborhood in the air\nIf you don't care\nOh yeah\nThrow your neighborhood in the air\nIf you don't care\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nStanding outside on a Friday living on the edge\n'Cause we all got them hard heads\nIt's seems like we all are waitin'\nFor a drive-by playing tag with Satan\nBut we chillin', yeah, we ready and willin'\nYa hear about the latest westside killing?\nForty sippin', set trippin', fo' dippin'\nPistol grippin', neva slippin'\nBGs trying to hang out\nBut OGs sayin' \"Take your little ass in the house\"\nMy big homie just got out\nUsed to be down, now he's just cracked out\nHe's bout hard as Darth Vader\nIn his sweatshirt, khakis and Chuck Taylor's\nJust seen him in the driveway\nGetting beat like a smoker fool, 'cause it's Friday\n\nOh yeah\nThrow your neighborhood in the air\nIf you don't care\nOh yeah\nThrow your neighborhood in the air\nIf you don't care\nFool\nWhy must I be like that and chase the cat?\nOr settle for a hoodrat\nDookie braids no dreadlocks\nFlyin' in and out of town with half a chicken in her cock\nAnd I love her, 'cause she down\nTo fuck around with the underground pussy hound\nAnd her ass is big round and wide\nJacked up, make a nigga down to ride\nSmoking indo, playing that Super Nintendo\nHear a rat-a-Tat-Tat on my window\nGave her ass that pelvic thrust\nDon't trust the rubber 'cause its bound to bust\nIn the oven, in the nappy\nI had on two so I was happy\n'Cause that HIV'll make your dick hang sideways\nAnd that ain't cool, fool, 'cause it's Friday\n\nOh yeah\nThrow your neighborhood in the air\nIf you don't care\nOh yeah\nThrow your neighborhood in the air\nIf you don't care\nThrow the West side in the air\nThrow the East side in the air\nThrow the South side in the air\nThrow the North side in the air\nOh yeah!"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsSteady Mobbin\u2019 Lyrics\nGod damn\nThe bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin'\nAnd when dealin' with Da Lench Mob you gots to know steady mobbin' is not just the name of this jam\nBut a way of life\nBound together by motherfuckers that's known to break em' off something\nGive it to me\nThere goes the neighborhood\nThere goes the neighborhood\nThere goes the neighborhood\nThere goes the neighborhood\n\nFour or five niggas in a mothership\nBetter known as a deuce and we all wanna smother shit\nBent, front and back glass got tint\nTryin' to get our hands on some dollars and cents\nAnd fools can't hold us\nEvery chance we get, we hittin' up the rollers\nComin' up short of the green guys\nAnd I might start slangin' bean pies\nOr the bootleg t-shirt of the month\nWith \"U Can't Touch This\" on the front\nI'm out to get rich\n'Cause life ain't nothin' but money and fuck a bitch\nThey drop like dominoes\nAnd if you didn't know, Ice Cube got drama, hoes\nSo after the screwin'\nI bust a nut and get up and put on my white Ewings\nI'm out the door\nAll you might get is a rubber on the floor\n'Cause I'm ready to hit the road like Mario Andretti\nBitch, cause I'm steady mobbin'\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nHave you ever seen such a sight in your life?\nSteady mobbin'\nHave you ever seen such a sight in your life?\nThere goes the neighborhood\n\nBustin' caps in the mix\nRather be judged by twelve than carried by six\n'Cause I'm gettin' major\nFuck PacTel, move to Sky Pager\nTold all my friends\nDon't drink 8-Ball 'cause St. Ides is givin ends\nFools get drunk and wanna compete\nSlapboxin' in the street\nNiggas get mad, tempers are flarin'\n'Cause they got a few bitches starin'\nJust for the nappy heads\nBut scandalous bitches make for happy feds\nI make it my duty to cuss 'em\nOut 'cause I just don't trust 'em\nAnd if you tell on me I'm bombin' on Betty\nBitch shoulda known I was steady mobbin'\n\nHave you ever seen such a sight in your life?\nSteady mobbin'\nHave you ever seen such a sight in your life?\nThere goes the neighborhood\nSince one-time so hot\nGot me a stash spot in my hooptie for the Glock\n'Cause I'm rollin' on rims\nEating soul food, neckbones from M&M's\nGrubbin' like a motherfucker\nGreasy-ass lips, now I gots to take a shit\nSaw Sir Jinx bellin'\nWhen I hit a left on Ruthelen, \"What up, loc?\"\nDon't you know that niggas get smoked\nThat take they life for a joke? Get in, nigga\nI'll take you to the pad soon\nWent to mom's house and dropped a load in the bathroom\nJumped back in my lowrider\nComin' out feelin' about ten pounds lighter\nWent to Bone's house so I can get the gat\nLooking for the place where all the hoes kick it at\nLench Mob ain't nothin' but tramps\nFor hoes lickin' nuts like stamps\nOne fool bumpin' music for the yamps\nBut Ice Cube had more amps, get in, bitch\n'Cause I had the jam on\nAnd I don't want to hear shit about a tampon\nGimme the nappy and make me happy\nThe ho said, \"Pappy, could you slap me\nOn the ass hard and fast\nAnd could please try not to leave a gash?\"\nI said, \"Yeah, but I don't play sex\nWithout puttin' on the latex\"\nSlipped on the condom\nFucked around and dropped the bomb, son\nAnd it came out sort of like confetti\nIn for the night, no longer steady mobbin'\nHave you ever seen such a sight in your life?\nSteady mobbin'\nHave you ever seen such a sight in your life?\nThere goes the neighborhood\nHave you ever seen such a sight in your life?\nSteady mobbin'\nHave you ever seen such a sight in your life?\nThere goes the neighborhood\n\nThere goes the neighborhood\nGet the radio, get the radio\nThere goes the neighborhood"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsGhetto Vet Lyrics\n(Hey)\nHey Chop\n(Hey)\nThese haters tried to blow me up, man\n(Who is this)\nThe Don Mega, nigga, who you think\n(Ey, homie, what happened)\nMy whole life flashed before my eyes, man\n\nLife...\nNiggas used to come and get me\nWhen it was time to disagree with an enemy\nPass the Hennessy it gives me energy\nPacked the gat in the small of my back\nWhere these niggas at, I'll clear the whole pack\nTalking shit cause I'm down for my set\nI'm a vet, smoking on a wet cigarette\nWho these niggas think they are\nWishing on a ghetto star, I represent my tar\nI start busting and they scatter like water bugs\nCause these Westside niggas is harder thugs\nEnslave us but nothing can save us from sporting Ben Davis\nShootin' at your neighbors\nCause sometimes I feel like a nut\nDon\u2019t give a fuck when I open you up\nHot rocks\nFly from the back seat\nAnd busta-ass niggas run like a track meet\nAnd if you caught in the middle\nBleed more than a little (what)\nKiller King is the hospital\nFeeling numb from the bullets I hum\nAnd when they hit\nBlack mothers have fits\nI don\u2019t give a shit\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nFool I'm a vet you can bet\nThat I could dance underwater and not get wet\nCheck it\nIt's raining bullets and I'm still there\nI'm still there\n\nMy house shoes get wet from the dew on the grass\nUp early in the morning taking out the trash\nFeeling like a loser, alcohol abuser\nTwo youngsters roll up on a beach cruiser\nOne on the pedals, the other on the handle bars\nTryna be ghetto stars\nThey said, \"are you from the Westside is it so?\"\nI said, \"hell yeah and who want to know?\"\nMe\nIn slow mo\u2019, .44 slugs, face down in the mud\nPuddle full of blood\nLeft for dead, the pain starts to spread\nNow I can\u2019t feel my legs\nI meet Doctor Who at King Drew medical center\nAs I enter I.C.U\nHe said the bullet hit a nerve that was vital\nI said I can\u2019t move my legs, he said don\u2019t try to\nNow this ain\u2019t the end my friend but you'll probably never walk again\nI sit there motionless holding this pain inside contemplating suicide\nAt night I jerk and jerk\nBut my dick don\u2019t work it don\u2019t even hurt\nNow who'd ever thought a nigga rude as Ice Cube\nA'be pissing through a tube\nFool I'm a vet\nFool, I'm a vet you can bet\nI can dance underwater and not get wet (check it)\nIt\u2019s raining bullets and I'm still there\nYoung ghetto nigga in a wheelchair\n\nFuck a V-A they need G-A\nGang Hospital for a cripple\nNow I'm drinking Ripple\nSame corner, same hood I'm still there\nWith bandanas tied to my wheel chair\nTo all the hood rat hoes I'm fired\nThey mad cause my tongue get tired\nNow everybody want to put they dope on me\nSayin I won't get searched by the LAPD\nI'm sittin' in a doorway deuce-five\nDepending on that to keep my ass alive\nI don\u2019t got bows but my arm's about a one-six\nWith fucking legs looking like tooth picks\nSome times I can\u2019t deal\nGot to beg the BG's to roll me up the hill\nPut me on the porch\nNow I'm on the torch\nSmoking cocaine\nJust to maintain\nNothing to gain nothing to lose\nAnd last night I couldn\u2019t make it to the bathroom\nFeeling like a 2-year-old\nYou can\u2019t get a sip from the brew I hold\nIt\u2019s the only friend to a stranger\nAKA: handicapped gangbanger\nThere's a lot in my life I regret becoming a ghetto vet\nFool I'm a Vet\nFool I'm a vet you can bet\nThat I could dance underwater and not get wet\nCheck it\nIt's raining bullets and I'm still there\nI'm still there\nDedicated to all the ghetto vets\nFor every nigga that done took one for the hood"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsAmeriKKKa\u2019s Most Wanted Lyrics\nIce Cube with Da Lench Mob, I got it goin' on\nA nigga that's livin' in the city of the criminal zone\nOne-time can't keep the law in order\n'Cause everybody's goin' crazy for a quarter\nYou're tuned in to the number one crew in the area\nThe way I'm talkin' I'm scarin' ya\nI'm darin' ya to raise hell and bail and brag and sag\nOr beat down for ya flag\n'Cause if you is or you ain't a gangbanger\nKeep one in the chamber\n'Cause you'll get them thangs put on ya son\nIce Cube has got the 4-1-1\nAll the ol' school house fellows are crooks\nSo I get jealous looks\nThey keep thinkin' did my head grow?\nWill the boys in the hood have to beat down Ice Cube?\nHell no, I'll static son, you'll see it's okay\nI keep my nine anyway\nFor the day one of my homies wanna squab\nI'm still rollin' wit Da Lench Mob\n\n(America's Most Wanted)\n\nBack in the day I did my share of dirt\nSometimes I got away clean, sometimes people got hurt\nBut if you know me, you know that I'm liable\nTo bust a cap 'cause it's all about survival of the fittest\nI'm a menace crook\nI did so much dirt, I need to be in the Guinness Book\nFrom the shit I took from people\nI repo your Vette, then jet\nBack to the criminal set\nI leave clue after clue, but they can't catch me yet\n'Cause I'm slick and slippery\nThey can't get with me, cops ain't shit to me\nI can't dig a pig, so I drop the dogs\nAnd sweat em like sweathogs\nAnd get mad, mad 'cause I'm the nigga that flaunt it\nAmeriKKKa's Most Wanted\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nAiyo, here's what the poster read\n\"Ice Cube is wanted dead\"\nThat's all it said\nI put heads to bed and fled the scene wit all the green\nHear shots and si-reens\nWhen I fiend, first they yo' rings, now they my rings\nSo give it up punk and then I just\nPut another jack in progress\nIt's the American way\n'Cause I'm the G-A-N-G-S-T-A\nIce Cube, a motherfuckin' klepto\nAnd tried to catch the early bird but they slept, so\nWho gets the worm?\nAnd if I'm caught in a trap, you know I'ma beat the wack\nWith a payoff, cop gotta lay off\nFBI on my dick, stay off!\nI'm not a rebel or a renegade on a quest\nI'm a nigga with a 'S' on his chest\nSo get the Kryptonite 'cause I'm a rip tonight\n'Cause I'm scarin' ya, wanted by America\n\n(Aiyo Cube man, they on your ass)\n\nWord, but who the fuck is Herb?\nIt's time to take a trip to the suburbs\nLet 'em see a nigga invasion\nPoint blank on a Caucasian\nCocked the hammer, didn't crack no smile\nTake me to your house, pal\nGot to the house, my pockets got fat, see\nCrack the safe, got the money and the jewelry\nThree weeks later, I'm at the P-A-D\nHad a little fly ass bitch wit me\nSittin' in the den, yo it couldn't be\n(What up, G?) Saw my face on TV\nDamn (oh shit!) I didn't know I lucked out\nStruck out, I gotta get the fuck out\nPacked my bags and tried to hit the door when\nThe ol' bitch down the street must've turned me in\nCos the feds was out there ten deep\nI got hassled and gaffled in the back seat\nI think back when I was robbin' my own kind\nThe police didn't pay it no mind\nBut when I start robbing the white folks\nNow I'm in the pen with the soap-on-a-rope\nI said it before and I'll still taught it\nEvery motherfucker with a color is most wanted\nAmeriKKKa's Most Wanted, uh,  reports that Ice Cube is the leader of the, uh, Lench Mob. Uh, also in the group they have J-Dee, Chill, T-Bone, Yo-Yo, Del, K-Dee\nSounds like a black thing"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsA Bird in the Hand Lyrics\nSay, look at this\nI've been cleaning out my nest, and I found an old book of my poetry\n\nFresh out of school 'cause I was a high school grad\nGots to get a job 'cause I was a high school dad\nWish I got paid by rappin' to the nation\nBut that's not likely, so here's my application\nPass it to the man at AT&T\n'Cause when I was in school I got the A.E.E\nBut there's no SC for this youngsta\nI didn't have no money, so now I gotta punch the\nClock, gotta slave, and be half a man\nBut whitey says there's no room for the African\nAlways knew that I would clock G's\nBut welcome to McDonald's, \"May I take your order, please?\"\nGotta serve ya food that might give you cancer\n'Cause my son doesn't take no for an answer\nNow I pay taxes, that you never give me back\nWhat about diapers, bottles, and Similac?\nDo I have to sell me a whole lotta crack\nFor decent shelter and clothes on my back?\nOr should I just wait for help from Bush?\nOr Jesse Jackson, and Operation PUSH?\nIf you ask me the whole thing needs a douche\nA Massengill, what the hell\nCrack will sell in the neighborhood\nTo the corner house bitches\nMiss Parker, little Joe, and Todd Bridges\nOr anybody that he know\nSo I copped me a bird, better known as a kilo\nNow everybody know I went from po'\nTo a nigga that got dough\nSo now you put the feds against me\n'Cause I couldn't follow the plan of the presidency\nI never get love again\nBut blacks are too fuckin' broke to be Republican\nNow I remember, I used to be cool\n'Til I stopped fillin' out my W-2\nNow senators are gettin' high\nAnd your plan against the ghetto backfired\nSo now you got a pep talk\nBut sorry, this is our only room to walk\n'Cause we don't want a drug push\nBut a bird in the hand is worth more than a Bush\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nTell the politicians, the hustlers\nLive and let live (Yeah)\nTell the politicians, the hustlers\nLive and let live (Yeah)"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsGhetto Bird Lyrics\nWhy, oh why must you swoop through the hood like everybody from the hood? Is up to no good\nYou think all the girls around here are trickin'\nUp there lookin' like Superchicken\nAt night I see your light through my bedroom window\nBut I ain't got shit but the pad and pencil\nI can't wait till I hear you say\n\"I'm going down, mayday, mayday.\" I'm gonna clown\nCause everytime that the pigs have got me\nY'all rub it in with the flying Nazi\nMilitary force, but we don't want ya\nStandin' on my roof with the rocket launcher\n\"So fly like an eagle.\"\nBut don't follow us wherever we go\nThe shit that I'm saying, make sure it's heard\nMotherfuck you and your punk-ass ghetto bird\n\n\"Run, run, run, from the ghetto bird\"\n\"Run, run, run, from the ghetto bird\"\n\nNow, my homey's here to lick on a trick for a Rolex\nAnd let me try the fo' next\nNow the fo' I was driving was hotter than july\nLooked up and didn't see a ribbon in the sky\nSaw a chopper with numbers on the bottom\n\"Calling all cars, I think we've got em.\"\nI hit the gas and I mashed past Inglewood\nI think I drove through every single hood\nSouth Central, Compton and Watts\nLong Beach, bust a U, here come the cops\nWish I had a genie with about three wishes\nMetal flake green on D's I look suspicious\nYou know that I'm running\nShit, I hear it humming\nFuck, I see it coming\nIs it a bird? Yup\nIs it a plane? No\nI hit me a right on El Segundo\nWanted to holla, had to ditch the Impala\nLet's see if they would folla\nMe, hit a fence, hit a fence, and another\nMet me a baby pitbull and his mother\nRan up in some peoples house and looked out of the window\nI wish it was my kinfolk\nHad to pull a strap on a fool named Louis the Third\n'Cause I'm getting chased by the ghetto bird\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\n\"Just put his hat, ehrrr, he combed his hair and then put his hat back\nOn. Errr, he's acting nonchalant up there in that cockpit, going 115\nMiles an hour, with the police chasing him. Ehm, they're not gonna be\nReal happy when they catch up with him, no matter what, the eh\nEhrr, they hate, they hate a bigmouth even worse.\"\n\nOfficer Bird's on his way, and I don't wanna see him\nCould you please give me the keys to the B.M.?\nSee, I didn't want to gank you\nBut don't make me bank you, thank you\nTried to get to the hood, and you might guess\nThat a fool like me done shot Cyrus\nIncognito, Ghetto Eagle\nSaying, \"Fuck, where did he go?\"\nI bust me a left on Ruthelen. Park\nThe 735 and I'm bailin\nWent to my homegirl's house and got a hug man\nShe helped me run like Harriet Tubman\nLooked out the window by the black bed\nI saw the pigs and the fo' on a flatbed\nThen the light from the bird hit me in the face\nI closed the blinds cause I didn't wanna catch a case\nAll that night, I heard the bird circle\nWhile I was eating fish and watching Urkel\nShe said I could sleep on the couch\nBy two A.M. I was digging her out\nFuck the ghetto bird\n\"Which way is he going now?\"\n\"Ok, now..now he's..he's actually southbound..on a service street\nAnd, uh...Gee whiz, uh, I'm gonna get my maps out here and figure\nOut which service street he suddelny turned off on. Uh, the sherriffs\nAre..are...well I know that...Sherriffs ground units got thrown off\"\n\nMotherfuck you and your punk-ass ghetto bird"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsMy Summer Vacation Lyrics\nThis is the final boarding call for flight 1259 departing from Los Angeles\nOn destination to St. Louis, thank you\n\nDamn, G, the spot's gettin' hot\nSo how the fuck am I supposed to make a knot?\nPolice looking at niggas through a microscope\nIn L.A. everybody and they mama sell dope\nThey trying to stop it\nSo what the fuck can I do to make a profit?\nCatch a flight to St. Louis\nThat's cool, 'cause nobody knew us\nWe stepped off the plane\nFour gang bangers, professional crack slangers\nRented a car at wholesale\nDrove to the ghetto, and checked in a motel\nUnpacked and I grab the three-eighty\n'Cause where we stayin', niggas look shady\nBut they can't fade South Central\n'Cause bustin' a cap is fundamental\nPeepin' out every block close\nSeein' which one will clock the most\nYeah, this is the one, no doubt\nBust a U, Bone, and let's clear these niggas out\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nAyy, ayy, man, wassup, nigga?\nYo, well, this Lench Mob, nigga\n\nNow clearin' 'em out meant casualties\nStill had the L.A. mentality\nBust a cap, and outta there in a hurry\nWouldn't you know? A drive-by in Missouri\nThem fools got popped\nTook they corner next day, set up shop\nAnd it's better than slangin' in the Valley\nTriple the profit makin' more than I did in Cali\nBreakin' off rocks like Barney Rubble\n'Cause them mark-ass niggas don't want trouble\nAnd we ain't on edge when we do work\nPolice don't recognize the khakis and the sweatshirts\nGettin' bitches and they can't stand a\n1991 Tony Montana\nNow the shit's like a war\nOf gang violence, where it was never seen before\nPunks run when the gat bust\nFour Jheri curl niggas kickin' up dust\nAnd some of them are even lookin' up to us\nWearing our colors and talkin' that gang fuss\nGivin' up much love\nDyin' for a street that they never heard of\nBut other motherfuckers wanna stand strong\nSo you know the phrase, once again it's on\nAt the top of the news tonight, gangs from South Central, Los Angeles which are known for their drive-by shootings\nHave migrated into East St. Louis, leaving three dead and two others injured\nNo arrests have been made\nPolice say this is a nationwide trend\nWith similar incidents occurring in Texas, Michigan, and Oklahoma\n\nBoom, my homie got shot, he's a goner, black\nSt. Louis niggas want they corner back\nShootin' in snowy weather\nIt's illegal business, niggas still can't stick together\nFuckin' police got the 4-1-1\nThat L.A. ain't all surf and sun\nBut we ain't thinkin' 'bout the boys\nFeudin' like the Hatfields and McCoys\nNow the shit's gettin' tricky\n'Cause now they lookin' for the colors and the Dickies\nDamn, the spot's gettin' hot from the battle\nAbout to pack up and start slangin' in Seattle\nBut the NARCs raid about six in the mornin'\nTry to catch a nigga when he's yawnin'\nPut his Glock to my chest as I pause\nWent to jail in my motherfuckin' drawers\nTryna give me fifty-seven years\nFace'll be full of those tattooed tears\nIt's the same old story and the same old nigga stuck\nAnd the public defender ain't givin' a fuck\nThe fool must be sparkin'\nTalkin' about a double life plea bargain\nYou got to deal with the Crips and the Bloods by hand, G\nPlus the Black Guerilla family\nAnd the white pride don't like no side\nAnd it's a riot if any one of us die\nNo parole or probation\nNow this is a young man's summer vacation\nNo chance for rehabilitation\n'Cause look at the motherfuckin' years that I'm facin'\nI'ma end it like this 'cause you know what's up\nMy life is fucked\nCome on, G\nPolice, eat a dick, straight up\nLook here, you lil' goddamn nigga, you're not gafflin' nobody\nYou fuckin' understand me? (Kick his ass, put him down)\nThat's right, get down on the goddamn ground now\nFuckin' move, now (Let me take a shot at him, let me take a shot him)\nWe're gonna do you like King\nWhat goddamn King?\nRodney King, Martin Luther King, and all the goddamn Kings from Africa\nLook out, motherfucker"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsWicked Lyrics\nNow dis one dedicated to di man dem call MacGyver (Buck)\nAnd all double-oh-seven James Bond spy man is from di area (Gunshot, gunshot)\nMaximum respect to di man dem call Ice Cube (Buck, buck)\nHim nah bust no deuce-deuce, no trey-eight, but four-four, wicked  (Right)\nUh, wicked man, uh, get wicked\nUh, wicked man, uh, get wicked\n\nOne, two, three and I come with the wicked\nStyle, and you know that I'm from, the wicked\nCrew, act like you knew\n'Cause I got everybody jumpin' to the voodoo, kick it\nWicked rhymes, picket signs\nWhile me and the Mob gotta trunk full of nines\nPlay ya and I'll slay ya\nI got the mayor by the hair\nReady to buck, buck, buck and it's a must\nTo duck, duck, duck before I bust\nLookin' for the one that did it\nBut like En Vogue, no, you're never gonna get it\n'Cause I'm the one with the fat mad skills\nAnd I won't choke like the Buffalo Bills\nSittin' at the pad just chillin'\n'Cause Larry Parker just got two million, oh what a feelin' (So)\nShake that nigga and pass me the pill\nAnd I'll slam dunk ya like Shaquille O'Neal\nLike it, dig it, maybe, and watch that test tube baby\nKick it, 'cause I get wicked\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nYou know dem wicked, Ice Cube and Torcha Chamba sound\nYes, dem wicked, him pick up di mic and buss up di ground\nYes, dem wicked, all of dem gyal with di sound\nMy name is Don Jagwarr and Ice Cube we run di town (Wicked)\n\nLook at the way I kick it, I'm wicked\nBuck (Wicked, wicked man)\nLook at the way I kick it, I'm wicked\nBuck-buck (Wicked), buck (Wicked man), buck-buck\n\nDon't say nothin', just listen\nGot me a plan to break Tyson outta prison\nCome my way and get served\nStill got a deuce that'll bunny hop the curb\nNappy head, nappy chest, nappy chin\nNever seen with a happy grin\nShow the fat frown 'cause I'm down\nTake a look around\nAll you see is big black boots steppin'\nUse my steel toe as a weapon\nKick ya and flip ya, now they want to\nLabel this nigga tape with the sticker\nDiggin' out girls that's nicety\nPlus I got a body count like Ice-T\nFrom here to New York\nI get skins and ain't talkin bout pork\nSwine, pig, dig\nListen to the flow of a so-called negro\nWho didn't know I was funky as Wilson Pickett\nDig it, 'cause I get wicked\nIce Cube and Torcha Chamba sound\nYes, dem wicked, him pick up di mic and buss up di ground\nYes, dem wicked, all of dem gyal with di sound\nMy name is Don Jagwarr and Ice Cube we run di town (Wicked)\n\nLook at the way I kick it, I'm wicked\nBuck (Wicked, wicked man), buck-buck\nLook at the way I kick it, I'm wicked\nBuck (Wicked, wicked man)\n\nPeople wanna know how come\nI got a gat and I'm lookin' out the window like Malcolm\nReady to bring that noise\nKinda trigger happy like the Geto Boys\nApril 29th brought power to the people\nAnd we might just see a sequel, 'cause\nPolice got equal hate\nA chazzer's a pig that don't fly straight\nThrough with Daryl Gates but is Willie Williams\nDown with the pilgrims?\nJust a super slave\nWe'll have to break his ass up like Super Dave\nI'm wicked enough to pull this\n'Cause now it's on to the fullest\nGorilla straight from the mist\nBut I don't miss when it comes to (Uh) this\nBring the yellow tape\nThe white cape, 'cause I'm so straight\nThrough with the picket signs\nTake this job and stick it, bigot, 'cause I get wicked\nWicked man (Haha, oh)\nHear the\u2014 hear the\u2014\nHear the\u2014 Wicked man\nHear the drummer get wicked\n\nYes, dem wicked, dem wicked, jus pick up di mic\nYes, dem wicked, dem wicked, jus put down di gun\nYes, dem wicked, dem wicked, 'cause we run di town\nDem wicked, dem wicked, 'cause we run di town\n\nYes, dem wicked, gwaan\nBack wha, seen, den di one dem call Ice Cube\nInternational superstar don gorgon style (Buck)\nWay back in Brooklyn, inside of Los Angeles, South Central style\nTorcha Chambas (Buck), dem run the country (Maximum respect)\nAnd my name is Don Jagwarr, we are the top celebrity seen\nBecause we wicked, we wicked, we pick up di mics\nYes, we wicked, we wicked, we put down di guns\nYes, dem wicked, dem wicked, but we run di town\nWicked man"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eAin\u2019t Got No Haters Lyrics\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nAll I got is motherfuckin' players\nWe get money in motherfuckin' layers\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nAll I got is maids and waiters\nAll I got is suits and gators\nY'all niggas lost and I'm Las Vegas\n\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nEverybody love black ass Darth Vader\nYou and your woman love to see me comin'\nCome through bumpin', little kids runnin'\nChasin' me down like the ice cream truck\nThese police, they never light me up\nI'm that nigga, baby, hype me up\nFuckin' up at work, they never write me up\nThey always hold me down and raise me up\nAnd all these women wanna glaze me up\nNever turnt down, I'm turnt up\nYou heard me, bitch, I said, \"I'm turnt up\"\nAlways on ten, always too loud\nAlways too hard for this boujee ass crowd\nEven these haters, they love my style\nSo, I don't know what you talkin' about\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nAll I got is motherfuckin' players\nWe get money in motherfuckin' layers\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nAll I got is maids and waiters\nAll I got is suits and gators\nY'all niggas lost and I'm Las Vegas\n\nYour situation is ugly, not mine, nothin' but love for me\nYou on the grind tryna turn a dub to a G\nAnd I'm flyin' 'round the world doin' shows overseas\nI'm chillin' with some females\nI don't shop for bargains, fuck a pre-sale\nToo much game tryna sell some\nYou know you can't hate on a real one\nToo $hort, I ain't no nice dude\nI'm like Ice Cube, run up in your wife fool\nO.G., enjoyin' my life\nStill gettin' money when I'm on the mic\nThirty years later still spittin' flows\nGettin' paid to call these bitches hoes\nI get love wherever I go\nAnd I'm always tryna get some more\nBeeeotch\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nAll I got is motherfuckin' players\nWe get money in motherfuckin' layers\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nAll I got is maids and waiters\nAll I got is suits and gators\nY'all niggas lost and I'm Las Vegas\n\nJackpot, think I'm in the crack spot? You a crackpot\nI'm a slip knot and I'ma get hot\nAnd I'ma stay hot so take a backseat, nigga, Maybach\nBoy, do what I say, nigga, robot\nYou kinda hit and miss, I'm the sure shot\nNever sold out, niggas bought out\nYou won't survive the fallout when I go all out\nMichael ball out but never touch no balls\nI ain't a athlete, I can't take no loss\nAll I know is champagne in my eyes\nAll this hate is what I don't recognize\nAll I know is that L-O-V-E\nThey beg me to drink a forty of O-E\nLow key, bump like a oldie\nNiggas treat me better than Kobe\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nAll I got is motherfuckin' players\nWe get money in motherfuckin' layers\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nSorry, y'all, I ain't got no haters\nAll I got is maids and waiters\nAll I got is suits and gators\nY'all niggas lost and I'm Las Vegas"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsEverythang\u2019s Corrupt Lyrics\nEverythang's corrupt, everythang's fucked up\nEverythang's 'bout a buck, we shit out of luck\nEverythang's corrupt, everythang's fucked up\nEverythang's 'bout a buck, we shit out of luck\n\nGo to school, the teacher wanna fuck the students\nGo to church, my preacher turned to prostitution\nThe prosecution never read my files\nThat evil ass judge fell asleep at my trial\nThis shit is wild, chickens get as sick as the cows\nBirds fallin out the sky, fish dyin' in piles\nIts fishy, politicians smell like my bowels\nTalkin' that shit, really crampin' my styles\nI got many, now I'm pinchin' pennies no doubt\nI squeezed Lincoln so hard, a fuckin' booger came out\nIts a shame, I used to be on top of my game\nThey took the shirt off my back and replaced it with chains\nI met Mr. Lee Harvey, from the tea party\nHe used to hate Obama til' he felt hurricane Charley\nLooking for his FEMA check, it's gone with the wind\nWhen em' dicks is in, you know the fix is in\n\nFor my birthday, buy me a politician\nIt's a shame that you got to teach yo' children\nEverythang's corrupt, everythang's fucked up\nEverythang's 'bout a buck, we shit out of luck\nFor my birthday, buy me a politician\nIt's a shame that you got to teach yo' children\nEverythang's corrupt, everythang's fucked up\nEverythang's 'bout a buck, we shit out of luck\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nEverythang's a scam, beat the next man\nThat's capitalism, they'll just build a new prison\nFor you slick ass niggas' that's tryin' to beat the system\nPut you on the front line if you ain't re-enlisting\nIt's hot in hell's kitchen, get ready for the lynching\nBrain-wash media, and puppet politician\nKeep you out of position, out of commission\nBy medicine or food, that's not a decision\nThe 99 percent, is man tryin' to vent\nPolice grab my fuckin' arm, then they got bent\nNow it's in a splint, I can't pay my rent\nThe interest on my credit card I ain't made a dent\nThe U.S mint, I heard they bout' to print\nBut it's fucked up cause' I won't see a cent\nI'm sick of gettin' ignored, this world I can't afford\nI'm going to the pen, free room, free board, bitch\n\nFor my birthday, buy me a politician\nIt's a shame that you got to teach yo' children\nEverythang's corrupt, everythang's fucked up\nEverythang's 'bout a buck, we shit out of luck\nFor my birthday, buy me a politician\nIt's a shame that you got to teach yo' children\nEverythang's corrupt, everythang's fucked up\nEverythang's 'bout a buck, we shit out of luck\nIt's ball of confusion, my niggas they losin'\nI know what ya doin', they drug abusin'\nMy bitches be choosin', my Uzi be oozin'\nThe thugs be cruisin', they know what you're doin'\nIt's ball of confusion, my niggas they losin'\nI know what ya doin', they drug abusin'\nMy bitches be choosin', my Uzi be oozin'\nThe thugs be cruisin', they know what you're doin'"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsWhen Will They Shoot? Lyrics\n\"Stalkin', walkin' in my big black boots\"\n\"Stalkin', walkin' in my big black boots\"\n\nGod damn, another fuckin' payback with a twist\nThe motherfuckers shot but the punks missed\nIce Cube is outgunned, what is the outcome?\nWill they do me like Malcolm?\n'Cause I bust styles, new styles\nStandin' strong, while others run a hundred miles\nBut I never run, never will\nDeal with the devil with my motherfuckin' steel - Boom!\nMedia tried to do me\nBut I was a boy in the hood before the movie, yeah\nCall me nigga, bigot, and a spook\nBut you the one that voted for Duke, motherfucker\nWhite man is somethin' I tried to study\nBut I got my hands bloody, yeah\nThey said I could sing like a jaybird\nBut nigga, don't say the J-word\nI thought they was buggin'\n'Cause to us, Uncle Sam is Hitler without an oven\nBurnin' our black skin\nBuy my neighborhood, then push the crack in\nDoin' us wrong from the first day\nAnd don't understand why a nigga got an AK\nCallin' me an African-American\nLike everything is fair again, shit\nDevil, you got to get the shit right\nI'm black, blacker than a trillion midnights\n\"Don't Believe The Hype\" was said in '88 by the great Chuck D\nNow they're tryin' to fuck me!\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\n\"With no Vaseline\nJust a match and a little bit of gasoline\" (Huh!)\n\nIt's a great day for genocide (What's that?)\nThat's the day all the niggas died\nThey killed JFK in '63\nSo what the fuck you think they'll do to me?\nBut I'm the OG and I bust back (Boom, boom!)\nBust back (Boom, boom!), peel a cap (Boom, boom!)\nGimme room in the fire of the sun\nHere the Mack come, here the Black come, watch Jack run!\nMotherfuckers can't gank me\nFuck a devil, fuck a rebel, and a Yankee\nOverrun and punk the Presidency\nIf it means that I'm down with O.P.P., yeah!\nI met Farrakhan and had dinner\nNow you ask if I'm a Five Percenter? Well\nNo, but I go where the brothers go\nDown with Compton Mosque, Number 54\nMade a little dough, still got a sister on my elbow\nDid Ice Cube sell out? You say, \"Hell no!\"\nA black woman is my manager, not in the kitchen\nSo could you please stop bitchin'?\n\"Stalkin', walkin' in my big black boots\"\nYeah, yeah\n\"But when will they shoot?\"\n\"Stalkin', walkin' in my big black boots\"\nYeah, yeah\n\"But when will they shoot?\"\n(*Gunshots*)\n\nYou missed, and didn't hit Da Lench Mob, either\nGuerrillas in tha Mist without jungle fever\nBut I got the fever for the flavor of a cracker, not a Pringle\nBust the single, here's my new jingle:\n\"Stalkin', walkin' in my big black boots\"\nThe KKK has got three-piece suits\nUsin' niggas like turkey shoots\nMy motto is, \"Treat 'em like a prostitute!\"\nNow if I say no violence, devil, you won't respect mine\nFuck the dumb shit and get my TEC-9 (Yeah!)\nAnd if they approach us\nI, I - I bury those cockroaches\nAnd if you can't deal with my Kill at Will\nHere's a new gift to get, try my Death Certificate\nAmeriKKKa's Most, America's burnt, it's like toast\nLike Jordan, I'm goin' coast to coast\nDribblin' the funk, here comes the nigga with the motherfuckin' monster dunk\nGet off me, punk!\n\"Jordan...\"\n\"Watch Jordan!\nAyo, Cube, watch Jordan...\"\n\"Yes!\"\nYou better eat your Wheaties\"\n\n\"Stalkin', walkin' in my big black boots\"\nYeah, yeah\n\"But when will they shoot?\"\n\"Stalkin', walkin' in my big black boots\"\nYeah, yeah\n\"But when will they shoot?\"\n\nDaryl Gates got the studio surrounded\n'Cause he don't like the niggas that I'm down with\nMotherfucker wanna do us\n'Cause I like Nat, Huey, Malcolm, and Louis\nMost got done by a black man's bullet\nGive a trigger to a nigga and watch him pull it\nNegro assassin\nI'ma dig a ditch, bitch, and throw yo' ass in\nWhen they shoot, no, it won't be a cracker\nThey use somebody much blacker\nWhat I do? I called up the Geto Boy crew\n'Cause my mind's playin' tricks on me, too (Yeah)\nNever died, surround my crib\nAnd FOI makin' sure nobody creep when I sleep\nKeep a nine millimeter in my Jeep (What?)\nPeep when I roll, I gots to roll deep\nAin't goin out cheap\nMet the MADD Circle on Cypress Hill 'cause it's so steep\nThey'll never get me, they'll never hit me\nMotherfuck that shit, J-Dee\nNow I'm relaxed\nGrab the St. Ides brew so I can max\nSittin' by the window 'cause it's so fuckin' hot\nAnd then I heard a shot (Boom!)"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsOnly One Me Lyrics\nThat's that gangsta shit\nCheck the original, y'all niggas digital\nThe pyroclastic flow, this insane\n\nMotherfuckers love me\nYoung-ass niggas, they wanna thug for me\nWish I was the Godfather, sell drugs for me\nBut all they can do is tap, cuz for me\nLook, homie, you can be my cronie\nIf you figure how to get a check out of Sony\n(Oh Lord) Oh Lord, thought I was preaching to the choir\nWhen I'm in this pulpit, I might catch some fire\nGlass full of gas, do you got a lighter?\nHand full of ass, why should I retire?\nThe shit I spit might inspire the messiah\nTo throw these lives in a lake full of fire\nAin't nothing flier than my fuckin' rims and my tires\nAnd a word to the wise, you better fuckin' recognize\nThat I been on the block since bitches did the wop\nSince Floyd and Damien kept rocks in they socks, nigga\nTaught 2Pac how to keep it gangsta\nI showed Biggie Smalls how to release his anger\nWho came before me? Melle Mel, Ice-T\nKing T, KRS, and the homie Chuck D\nP.E., DMC, nigga, know your history\nIf Cube ain't top three, then you's a bitch to me\nIce Cube, the name will live in infamy\nAsk the young nigga that invented Eazy-E\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nWest Coast, bitch, yeah, that's all me\nWith Too $hort and the D-R-E\nWe made it too hard, check our family tree\nSee you try to make a Snapple out of all them bad apples\nNigga, no\nLeave you baffled and gaffled\nAnd running through your house like it's a motherfuckin' raffle\nI'm a asshole with Tabasco, you the last ho I would ask for\nIf I had to leave Morehouse and walk into a ho house\nThe drink that I pour out, the weed that I blow out\nIt's all for my nigga Big Herc when I show out\nPicture this in a frame, get tore out\nWhen I wanna go out, red carpets get rolled out\n\nThere's a lot of yous (A lot), there's only one of me\nThey are not confused by the wannabe\nThere's a lot of yous (A lot), there's only one of me\nThey are not confused by the wannabe\nOriginal, original, I'm the prototype\nOriginal, original, he the copy, right\nOriginal, original, I'm the prototype\nOriginal, original, he the copy, right\n\nSo what, you from the gutter?\nWe all had to struggle if you got a Black mother\nWe all had to scrap with our uncles and our brothers\nBedroom window, no curtains, used covers\nMotherfuckers always claim to be the hardest\nBut these motherfuckers never claim to be the smartest\nI'm a artist that'll paint your rigor mortis\nYou silly rabbit, nigga, here come the tortoise\nFast is smooth and smooth is slow\nAnd that's how you get it twenty years in a row\nAdvance how you get twenty years in a hole\nPretend that your ass ain't got no soul\nGrab that cold-ass white man steel\nCap pills, run like an oil spill\nBig drills, found him in the landfill\nYou got thirty years but you my man still\nFuck them tears, Tony Montana\nCaught you in Montana, extradited to Atlanta\nThis ain't the banana, nigga, this is Alabama\nNail in your coffin when the judge rock the hammer, nigga\nThere's a lot of yous (A lot), there's only one of me\nThey are not confused by the wannabe\nThere's a lot of yous (A lot), there's only one of me\nThey are not confused by the wannabe\nOriginal, original, I'm the prototype\nOriginal, original, he the copy, right\nOriginal, original, I'm the prototype\nOriginal, original, he the copy, right\n\nThat's that gangsta shit"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsGivin\u2019 Up the Nappy Dug Out Lyrics\n\nYeah?\n\nUm, uh, is Cheryl here?\n\nWell, who are you?\n\nTell her Ice Cube is here\n\nWho?\n\nIce Cube\n\nIce Cube?\nMan, I ain't letting my damn daughter go out with no damn Ice Cubes\nMan, what the hell you talkin' about, man?\nI brought my daughter up, man, in a Catholic school, private school\nMan, what you want with her?\nI'm sick of this bullshit\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nYo, man, let me tell you something\n\nYour daughter was a nice girl, now she is a slut\nA queen treatin' niggas just like King Tut\nGobbling up nuts, sorta like a hummingbird\nSucking up the Lench Mob crew, and I'm comin' third\nUsed to get straight A's, now she just skippin' class\nOh my, do I like to grip the hips and ass\nOnly seventeen with a lot of practice\nOn black boys' jimmies and white boys' cactus\nSorry sorry sir, but I gotta be brief\nA lotta niggas like bustin' nuts in her teeth\nDrink it up, drink it up, even though she's Catholic\nThat don't mean shit 'cause she's givin' up the ass quick\nQuicker than you can say \"candy\"\nThe bitch is on my Snicker\nAnd oh man, she can take on three men built like He-Men\nHer little-bitty twat got gallons of semen\nFourteen niggas in line ready to bang your\nPride and joy, I mean daddy's little angel\nTell the little bitch to bring her ass out the house\n'Cause your daughter's known for givin' up the nappy dug out\n\nI got a big old ding-a-ling\nAnd if that bitch can hang\nI'm gonna do my thing with your daughter\nGivin' up the nappy dug out\nI got a big old ding-a-ling\nAnd if that bitch can hang\nI'm gonna do my thing with your daughter\nGivin' up the nappy dug out\nLook, motherfucker, you better get from in front of my house with that old goddamn bullshit\nYou curly-haired motherfucker\nYou better get out of here witcho' lyin' ass\nMan, youse a little lyin' motherfucker\n\nMister, mister, before you make me go\nI'm here to let you know your little girl is a ho\nNympho, nympho, boy, is she bad\nGet her all alone and out comes the kneepads\nI know she is a minor and it is illegal\nBut the bitch is worse than Vanessa Del Rio\nAnd if you decide to call rape\nWe got the little hooker on tape, now\nTell the fuckin' slut to please hurry up\nAnd wear that dress that's tight on her butt\nSo I can finger-fuck on the way to the bed\nBeen in so many rooms, she got a dot on her forehead\nFace turnin' red from grabbin' them ankles\nFuck and get up is how I do them stank-hoes\nYou should hear how she sounds with a cock in her\nBoots get knocked from here to Czechoslovakia\nTwo are on top, one on the bottom\nFirst nigga got the boots; man, you shoulda shot him\n'Cause after I got 'em it was over\nNow niggas get lucky like a four-leaf clover\nOn daddy's little girl\nShe keeps nuts in her mouth like the bitch was a squirrel\nSo tell Cheryl to bring her ass home\n'Cause the line at my house is getting long, and\nI got a big old ding-a-ling\nAnd if that bitch can hang\nI'm gonna do my thing with your daughter\nGivin' up the nappy dug out\nI got a big old ding-a-ling (Yo)\nAnd if that bitch can hang (Yo)\nI'm gonna do my thing with your daughter\nGivin' up the nappy dug out\nI got a big old ding-a-ling (Yeah)\nAnd if that bitch can hang (Yeah)\nI'm gonna do my thing with your daughter\nGivin' up the nappy dug out\nI got a big old ding-a-ling\nAnd if that bitch can hang (Yo)\nI'm gonna do my thing with your daughter\n\nLittle motherfucker\n\nDaddy, where did he go?\n\nI'll tell you where he went, goddammit\n(Mercy)\n\nGivin' up the nappy, givin' up the nappy dug out\nGivin' up the nappy, givin' up the nappy dug out (Mercy)\nGivin' up the nappy dug out\nGivin' up the nappy dug out (Mercy)\nGivin' up the nappy, givin' up the nappy dug out\nGivin' up the nappy, givin' up the nappy dug out (Mercy)\nGivin' up the nappy dug out\nGivin-givin' up the nappy dug out\n(Mercy)\n\nWarning, when having sexual intercourse with a female like Cheryl\nYou must use jimmy hat condoms\nWe're called jimmy hats, have you ever seen us?\nMost guys wear us 'round rolled up on your penis\nIf you're real smart, you will always use us\nPut me in your wallet, or some dummy screws us\nAnd going bareback without the bare facts\nAnd have creepy crawlies crawling on your nutsack\nSo get the J-I-M-M-Y to the hats\nIt's me and two brothers in a pack\nRun out and get your jimmy hats\nSmall and extra large\nRun out and get your jimmy hats\nOr this might happen to you"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsThe Wrong Nigga to Fuck Wit Lyrics\nGoddamn, it's a brand new payback\nFrom the straight gangsta mack in straight gangsta black\nHow many motherfuckers gotta pay?\nWent to the shelf and dusted off the AK\nCaps gotta get peeled\nCause \"The Nigga Ya Love to hate\" still can \"Kill at Will\"\nIt ain't no pop cause that sucks\nAnd you can New Jack Swing on my nuts\nDown wit' the niggas that I bail out\nI'm platinum, bitch, and I didn't have to sell out\n\"Fuck you, Ice Cube\", that's what the people say\nFuck America, still with the triple K\n'Cause you know when my nine goes buck\nIt'll bust your head like a watermelon dropped from twelve stories up\nNow let's see who'll drop\nPunk motherfuckers tryin' to ban hip-hop\nFuck R&B and the runnin' man\nI'm the one that stand, with the gun in hand\nMake sure before you buck wit' duck quick\nPunk, 'cause I'm the wrong nigga to fuck with\n(\"I'ma let y'all know one thing man\")\n\nHell yeah it's on, you better tell 'em\nIce Cube and I'm rolling with the motherfuckin' L.M\nIt's the number one crew in the area\nMake a move for your gat and I'll bury ya\nAshes to ashes, dirt to dirt\nPunks roll when I put in work\n'Cause Lench Mob niggas are the craziest\nAnd y'all motherfuckers can't fade my shit\nSouth Central, that's where the Lench Mob dwell\nHittin' fools up with the big ass L\nOne time can't hold me back\nSweatshirt, khakis and croaker sacs\nStop givin' juice to the Raiders\nCause Al Davis never paid us\nI hope he wear a vest\nIt's all about the L-E-N-C-H y'all know the rest\nMuthafuckin' crew, muthafuckin' mob\nDo a muthafuckin' job in a muthafuckin' squad\nIn '91, Ice Cube grew stronger and bigger\nAnd I'm the wrong nigga to fuck with\n(\"One-and-two, ah-three-e-and-ah-four-and\")\n(\"Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute\")\nDrop a old school beat\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nLike I said, it's a brand new payback\nNow in '91, let's see whose beats get jacked\nSir Jinx grew a little bit taller\n(Keep the wack beats out)\nTrue motherfuckin' baller\nAnd hoes can't roll on\nEven bitches looking like En Vogue gotta \"Hold On\"\nDon't let me catch Daryl Gates in traffic\nI gotta have it, to peel his cap backwards\nI hope he wear a vest too, and his best blue\nGoin' up against the Zulu\nBreak his spine like a jellyfish\nKick his ass 'til I'm smellin' shit\nOff with the head, off with the head I say\nAnd watch the devil start kickin'\nRun around like a chicken\nGrand Dragon finger lickin'\nYo, turn him over with a spatula\nNow we got, Kentucky Fried Cracker\nMess with the Cube, you get punked quick\nPig, cause I'm the wrong nigga to fuck with\n\n(\"Last person in the world you wanna fuck with\")\n(\"Last person in the world you wanna fuck with\")\n(\"Last person in the world you wanna fuck with\")"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsSasquatch Lyrics\nI think they spotted me\n\nThey call me Sasquatch, please check the watch\nThis is Bigfoot, don't get it shook\nOut in Japan they call me Godzilla\nUp in Africa, King Kong gorilla\n\nMichael Joe Jackson used to call me Thriller\nAll my enemies swear I'm Attila\nVietnam vet, burn down your villa\nCaptain Crunch scream, serial killer\nOut in O-Town I'm a fucking pirate\nThink I'm Rodney King? We can start a riot\nTo a fat bitch, I'm a fucking diet\nYou in solitary, I'm piece and quiet\nThis a nightmare on Elm Street\nYou're just a runaway, where the pimps be\nYou'se a thirsty man, I'm so empty\nAt your funeral, no sympathy\n\n\nThey call me Sasquatch, please check the watch\nPlease check the time, I'm like turpentine\nAnd it's burping time, you exhausted I know\nCause I'm overtime and I'm over the line\nCome over to mine, I already left\nYou wanting a rhyme, bitch? I'm So So Def\nYou ready to shine, I'm already blind, you already lyin'\nA nigga ain't buyin' what you selling, always open; 7\/11\nWhen I blow niggas know here come tsunami\nYou got a bucket list, my list\nYou that drowning kid at the pool party\nI'm the carnivore over your body\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\n\nDon't make me, don't make me put this foot up your ass\n(Don't do it)\nDon't make me, don't make me put this foot up your ass\n(Don't)\nDon't make me, don't make me put this foot up your ass\nWhat you do? Bring it down and bring me my cash\n\nYou'se a fucking prick, but I'm Moby Dick\nI'm Darth Vader, you Obi Wan Kenobi, bitch\nHe's Jim Kelly, y'all, I'm Terry Bradshaw\nHe is baby ass, I'm like diaper rash\nI'm like stinking trash, I'm like party crash\nLike getting caught with hash\nI'm like your stolen cash\nI like you feeling bad, they call me Schleprock\nI like the whole country looking at the debt clock\nPyroclastic flow, this is Pompeii\nWhoever in the way, turn you into clay\nCall me out my name and that's a hurricane\nI'll send the wind and the water and the pouring rain\nI am boring, mane, I am snoring, mane\nI'm the pain that's wearing off the Novacane\nI'm the weight you gained, I make your titties hang\nI'm the crowded train that just hit the mane\n"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsOnce Upon A Time In The Projects Lyrics\n\nOnce upon a time in the projects, yo\nI damn near had to wreck a ho\nI knocked on the door, \"Who is it?\"\nIt's Ice Cube, come to pay a little visit to ya\nAnd what's up with the niggas in the parking lot\nShe said \"Fuck em, cause they get sparked a lot\"\nI sat on the couch but it wasn't stable\nAnd then I put my Nike's on the coffee table\nHer brother came in, he's into gang-bangin'\nCause he walked up and said \"What set you claimin'?\"\nI don't bang, I write the good rhymes\nThe whole scenery reminded me of Good Times\nI don't like to feel that I'm put in a rut\nBy a young nigga that needs to pull his pants up\nHe threw up a set and then he was gone\nI'm thinkin' to myself: \"Won't this bitch bring her ass on?\"\nHer mother came in with a joint in her mouth\nAnd fired up the sess, it was sess no doubt\nShe said, \"Please excuse my house,\" and all that\nI said, \"Yeah\", 'cause I was buzzed from the contact\nLookin' at a fucked up black and white\nHer mom's bitchin' cause the county check wasn't right\nShe had another brother that was three years old\nAnd had a bad case of the runny nose\nHe asked me who I was then I had to pause\nIt smelled like he took a shit in his little drawers\nI saw her sister who really needs her ass kicked\nOnly thirteen and already pregnant\nI grabbed my forty out the bag and took a swig\nCause I was getting overwhelmed by BeBe Kids\nThey was runnin' and yellin' and playin' and cussin' and tellin'\nAnd look at this young punk bailin'\nI heard a knock on the door without the password\nAnd her mom's got the twelve gauge Mossberg\nThe nigga said \"Yo, what's for sale?\" (Yo, what's for sale, man?)\nAnd the bitch came out with a bag of yayo\nShe made the drop and got the twenty dollars\nFrom a smoked-out fool with ring around the collar\nThe girl I was waiting for came out\nI said, \"Bitch, I didn't know this was a crack house\"\nI got my coat, and suddenly\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\n\"Stop, the police, don't move!\nFreeze! I'll kill ya!\"\n\nThe cop busted in and had a Mac-10 pointed at my dome\nAnd I said to myself, \"Once again, it's on\"\nHe threw me on the carpet and wasn't cuttin' no slack\nJumped on my head and put his knee in my back\nFirst he tried to slap me up, wrap me up, rough me up\nThey couldn't do it so they cuffed me up\nI said, \"fuck, how much abuse can a nigga take\"\nHey yo officer you're making a big mistake\nSince I had on a shirt that said I was dope\nHe thought I was selling base and couldn't hear my case\nHe said, \"get out my face\" and musta had a grudge\nHis reply, \"Tell that bullshit to the judge\"\nThe girl I was with wasn't sayin nothin'\nI said \"Aiyyo bitch you better tell em somethin'\"\nShe started draggin' and all of a sudden\nWe all got tossed in the paddy wagon\nNow I beat the rap but that ain't the point\nI had a warrant so I spent two weeks in the joint\nNow the story you heard has one little object\nDon't fuck with a bitch from the projects"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsTrue To The Game Lyrics\nAyy\nYeah, you, motherfucker\nYou know who I'm talking to\nYeah, you that motherfucker that betrayed your homeboys and you ain't shit\nYeah, you about to get your motherfucking ghetto pass revoked, motherfucker\nPunk-ass mark, bitch-made\nPunk-ass trick in a basket\nCaught up in the mix\n\nIt's the nigga you love to hate with a new song\nSo what really goes on?\nNothing but a come-up, but ain't that a bitch?\nThey hate to see a young nigga rich\nBut I refuse to switch even though\n'Cause I can't move to the snow\n'Cause soon as y'all get some dough\nYou wanna put a white bitch on your elbow\nMoving out your neighborhood\nBut I walk through the ghetto and the flavor's good\nLittle kids jumping on me\nBut you, you wanna be white and corny\nLiving way out\n\"Nigga, go home\" spray-painted on your house\nTrying to be white or a Jew\nBut ask yourself, who are they to be equal to?\nGet the hell out\nStop being an Uncle Tom, you little sell-out\nHouse nigga scum\nGive something back to the place where you made it from\nBefore you end up broke\nFuck around and get your ghetto pass revoked\nI ain't saying no names\nYou know who you are, you little punk, be true to the game\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nYeah, motherfucker\nYeah, you thought we forgot, huh?\nYeah, get a little money and moved out the neighborhood and shit\nBut you still ain't shit\n\nWhen you first start rhyming\nIt started off slow and then you start climbing\nBut it wasn't fast enough, I guess\nSo you gave your other style a test\nYou was hardcore hip-hop\nNow look at yourself, boy, you done flip-flopped\nGiving our music away to the mainstream\nDon't you know they ain't down with the team?\nThey just sent they boss over\nPut a bug in your ear and now you crossed over\nOn MTV, but they don't care\nThey'll have a new nigga next year\nYou're out in the cold\nNo more white fans and no more soul\nAnd you might have a heart attack\nWhen you find out the black folks don't want you back\nAnd you know what's worse?\nYou was just like the nigga in the first verse\nStop sellin' out your race\nAnd wipe that stupid-ass smile off your face\nNiggas always gotta show they teeth\nNow I'ma be brief, be true to the game\nYeah, motherfucker, I see you got your fancy cars and shit\nBut you know what? You still ain't shit\nThat's right, I caught you slipping\nYou know I could've gat you, yeah, but I didn't even trip\n\nA message to the Oreo cookie\nFind a mirror and take a look, G\nDo you like what you see?\nBut you're quick to point the finger at me\nYou wanna be the big fish, you little guppy\nBlack man can't be no yuppie\nYou put on your suit and tie and your big clothes\nYou don't associate with the Negroes\nYou wanna be just like Jack\nBut Jack is calling you a nigga behind your back\nSo back off, genius\nI don't need you to correct my broken English\nYou know that's right\nYou ain't white\nSo stop holding your ass tight\n'Cause you can't pass\nSo why you keep trying to pass?\nWith your black ass\nMister Big\nBut in reality, you're shorter than a midge\nYou only got yourself to blame\nGet a grip, Oreo, and be true to the game\nUh, yeah\nUh, yeah\nHa-ha\nAnd Ice Cube practices what he preaches\nHe continues to live in South Central Los Angeles and he puts his money into projects that improve the neighborhood\nBe true to the game"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsSic Them Youngins On \u2019Em Lyrics\n\nLench Mob incorporated\nFuck with the godfather\nSee what ya get\nPunishment\nConsequences and repercussions\nUnderstand me\nY'all know what I do\n\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\n\nTry to go H.A.M. on Porky Pig\nFucked up boy, that's what you did\nBarbed wire, come through, split your wig\nY'all can't wrestle with the giant squid\nTry to get that to the iron fist\nAct Al Green, I'm hot as grits\nYarn in my hand, no pinky ring\nGodfather, nigga, I pull the strings\nDo what I tell'em, buy what I sell'em\nPuppet master, I'm Jim Henson\nSee my muppets, they like ducats\nY'all better run when you see that bucket\nHit that corner, do what I wanna\nGet another jar for the organ donor\nIce Cube, nigga, I know better\nBut you ain't gotta fight\nWhen you got that cheddar\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\n\nTry to have beef with a fucking bull\nWith no teeth I'm about to pull\nI'm that dentist this the finish\nAll the spoils go to the winners\nDon't go mad cause my hands are clean\nI'm the king, never flee on the scene\nWizard of Oz, if you need a brain\nNeed a heart? Here's a start!\nDon't you worry if you need the courage\nY'all motherfuckers know where you heard it\nGangsta, gangsta, thank me now\nRap god nigga, please take a bow\nCan't take bullshit from a cow\nDon't ask who, I'mma fuck it out\nThurston Howell, will get you murdered\nCome to the boss if you need some work\nCome to the boss if you need some hurt\nWhite collar boy, if you check my shirt\nHere come my sons just like Levert\nGotta get my boys up out the dirt\nPutting the rap game on alert\nFuck with them and I will revert\nBack to the old days, back to the old ways\nBack to the AK's fucking up doorways\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\n\nTry to play chicken with a fucking rooster\nDon't you worry, I'm not the shooter\nI am a fucking computer, with a whole army of boosters\nNigga got out one piece, five piece, dime piece\nCause my crimies move like zombies\nWha? Being heads since the '90s\nDon't act like you don't know where to find me\nNow, if you wanna get slimy\nLook at all the grimey\nNiggas all behind me\nYou don't wanna go to war so you start to singin why can't we be friends?\nWe can be friends, pussy ass niggas buy extenze\nPray to the God, repent your sins\nIce Cube ain't like the rest of them\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\nSic them youngins on 'em\n\nTry to go H.A.M. on porky pig\nFucked up boy, that's what you did\nTry to go H.A.M. on porky pig\nFucked up boy, that's what you did\nTry to go H.A.M. on porky pig\nFucked up boy, that's what you did\nTry to go H.A.M. on porky pig\nFucked up boy, that's what you did"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsA Gangsta\u2019s Fairytale Lyrics\n\"Once upon a time, in the black part of the city\"\nYo G, yo G you better get out of here man, 5-0\n*Door swings shut, car peels out*\nYo Ice Cube, man\nWhassup man?\nWhy you...\nWhassup?\nYo Ice Cube man, why you always kickin the shit about the bitches and the niggas?\nWhy don't you kick some shit about the kids, man? The fuckin kids?!\nWord\n\nLittle boys and girls, they all love me\nCome sit on the lap of I-C-E\nAnd let me tell ya a story or two\nAbout a punk-ass nigga I knew\nNamed Jack, he wasn't that nimble, wasn't that quick\nJumped over the candlestick and burnt his dick\nRan up the street 'cause he was piping hot\nMet a bitch named Jill on the bus stop\nDropped a line or two, and he had the ho\nAt that type of shit he's a pro\nSo Jack and Jill ran up the hill to catch a lil nap\nDumb bitch, gave him the claps\nThen he had to go see Dr. Bombay\nGot a shot in the ass, and he was on his way\nTo make some money, why not?\nDown on Sesame Street, the dope spot\nThere he saw the lady who lived in a shoe\nSold dope out the front, by the back marijuana grew\nFor the man that was really important\nWho lived down the street in a Air Jordan\nRide to the fellow Mister Rogers and hoes\nDrove a 500 sittin' on Lorenzoes\nHe broke out, Little Bo Peep, smoked out\nSaw, her and her friends sellin' sheepskins\n Yo yo I got them sheepskins\nYo, my empty sheepskins\nYo baby, what's up with that?\nHickory dickory dock, it was twelve o'clock\nCinderella ain't home must be givin' up the cock\nI don't doubt it, she is kind of freaky of course\nHad a fight with Snow White, she was fuckin' her dwarfs\nSaw a fight over colors, too\nRed Riding Hood, and Little Boy Blue\nA bad influence? Yo I don't know\nBut Ice Cube'll tell the kids how the story should go\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nYeah money, that's it, yeah money, that's it\nThis is Little Russ in the house\nRock that shit homey, rock that shit!\n\"Well, you know the rest\"\n\nHumpty Dumpty sat on a wall\nWith a joint, drinkin' some 8-ball\nThree little pigs in a Coup de Ville\nLookin' for, the wolf to kill\nThey're fucked up and they want revenge\nThem and Humpty used to be friends\nNow they're enemies cause he's a traitor\nPulled out the Uzi cruised by and sprayed him\nCinderella hoeing for the fellas\nAnd Mister Rogers is gettin' mighty jealous\nOf the cash that the pigs were makin'\nTime for the pigs to get turned to bacon\n'Cause Mister Rogers found out quick\nThat Humpty Dumpty was blown to bits\nThey said that the motherfuckin' wolf was next\nSo Mister Rogers better watch his step\nSo he let the wolf know\nWe're gonna fuck up the pigs, and take their ho\nCause Cinderella is much too fast\nBefore twelve, givin' up ass\nDouble barrels all loaded and cocked\nAs soon as they show, they gonna get popped\nThey bailed down Sesame Street and caught em\nLittle Boy Blue is up front givin' orders\nLittle did they know Cinderella was a fink\nShe called the cops and got thrown in the clink\nA bad influence? Yo, I don't know\nBut Ice Cube'll tell the kids how the stories should go\nAyo man, was that dope enough for you?\nYeah you aight, you in the house\nWe outta here, see-ya!\nYeah, you better go home before I whoop your little bad ass!\n\nSome bedtime story, huh?\nIt's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't wanna live here\nAy, good ol' Mother Goose, remember her? I fucked her"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsI Rep That West Lyrics\n{*laughing*}\nYou know what West Coast niggas is gon' tell me?\nThis is too West Coast\n\nDoin my own, thang, and if you got a problem with that\nThen the nina go bang, bang\nAnd I'll be everywhere on the map, but\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nDoin my own, thang, and if you got a problem with that\nThen the nina go bang, bang\nAnd I'll be everywhere on the map, but\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\n\nDon't you know that I rep that?\nWhy you got let that boy in the buildin?\nDon't you know that, he about to kill 'em?\nDon't you know that, he about to hurt y'all feelings?\nCan't find Ren, might as well play the villain\nI'mma get 'em (get 'em) why cause I cain't babysit 'em\nI'mma whip 'em (whip 'em) treat 'em like badass children\nIs it evil? Y'all better call them people\nHow I get down, just ain't legal\nMoney long, sort of like Louis Vuitton\nI run this shit, right here, call me marathon (boom)\nI blow like a cherry bomb\nYou a small donation; bitch, I'm a telethon\nWest Coast million, what is he really on?\nIs it that shit, that niggas go silly on?\nHell no, the pyroclastic flow is evident\n(WESTSIDE!) And y'all know what I represent\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nDoin my own, thang, and if you got a problem with that\nThen the nina go bang, bang\nAnd I'll be everywhere on the map, but\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\n\nI rep that West, I rep that dub\nI pack that S (I'm a monster)\nWestside Loch Ness, I'm a problem\nMatter fact, I'm a mess, Los Angeles, so scan'lous\nSouth Central, home of so much potential\nBut if you go there the warfare is mental\nBring your wheelchair, you probably gon' need it\nLeave this motherfucker, a paraplegic\nNiggas 'round the world that think they wanna bang\nDon't get your ass caught up like Lil Wayne\nI'm too West Coast for the West Coast\nTo Fresno to Sarito's, to soul food and burritos\nI'm down with Angelinos\nGo downtown, and give a bum a C-note\nThis my town; I run it, you walk it\nYou just now learnin the game - I taught it\nDoin my own, thang, and if you got a problem with that\nThen the nina go bang, bang\nAnd I'll be everywhere on the map, but\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\n\nBrrrrr! And if you got a problem with this\nLet me know so I can add your fuckin name on my list\nAll you West Coast deejays, check your wrist\nIf you scared to add the big fish to your playlist now\nEnemies of this industry, I'mma\nHall of Famer, treated like a stranger\nFuck that, another West Coast banger\nWho gives a fuck if they play it in Virginia?\nI'mma play it on Denker, play it on Western\nAll up Van Ness, we'll make your head turn\nMotherfuckers wanna take our style\nAnd run that shit, three thousand miles then\nRub the shit all in our face\nDiss, award show all at our place\nDamn, can a nigga get a lit-tle taste\nOf some of that shine? It look like mine\nDamn!\nDoin my own, thang, and if you got a problem with that\nThen the nina go bang, bang\nAnd I'll be everywhere on the map, but\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nDoin my own, thang, and if you got a problem with that\nThen the nina go bang, bang\nAnd I'll be everywhere on the map, but\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\nI rep that West, I rep that West\n\nY'all know what it is\nIs this too West Coast for you motherfuckers?\nSo what!\nSanctioned by the O.G.'s of America\nThe grand wizard is a, certified G\nThat mean genius bitch"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsTurn Off The Radio Lyrics\nA message to the Oreo cookie: No matter how much you wanna switch, here's what they think about you!\n\u201cYou gold teeth, gold chain wearing, fried chicken and biscuit eating monkey, ape, baboon, big thigh, fast running, high jumping, spear chucking, three-hundred-and-sixty-degree basketball dunking, titsun, spade, mulignan... Go the fuck back to Africa--Go the fuck back to Africa--Go the fuck back to Africa!\u201d\nThink about it, fuckin' sellout!\n\nHere we go on station 103.787 and we're listening to\u2026\nWe won't be listening to, uh...\nIce Cube, AmeriKKKa\u2019s Most Wanted\nBecause that\u2019s bullshit, get that shit outta here\nStraight R&B, straight R&B, straight R&B\u2014\nWhere the motherfucking plug at? I'm about to disconnect his ass!\nTurn off that motherfucking radio!\n\nTurn on the radio, take a listen\nWhat you're missing\nPersonally I'm sick of the ass-kissing\nWhat I'm kicking to you won't get rotation\nNowhere in the nation\nProgram directors and DJ's ignored me\n'Cause I simply said \"Fuck Top Forty\nAnd Top Thirty, Top Twenty and Top Ten!\"\nUntil you put more hip-hop in\nThen I might grin but don't pretend that you're down with the scene\nAnd go and diss me in a magazine\nHow could you figure the brother could dig ya?\nDJ face down in the river\nNo, it's not a threat but a promise\nI'm as crazy as they come see\nMama didn't love me\nAll I got is my nine\nAnd to calm the savage beast here's the Alpine\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nDisaster...\nTurn off that bullshit!\nTurn off that motherfucking radio!\nTurn off that bullshit!\nTurn off that motherfucking radio!\nTurn off that bullshit!\nPlay the music motherfucker put the music on\nDamn!\n\nTune in to the radio, listen for a minute\nYo G, stick a fucking tape in it!\n'Cause all the radio do is gangle\nThat R&B love triangle\nIf you're out there kicking it with the brothers\nYou don't care about lovers\nYou wanna hear a young nigga on the mic going buck wild\nThrowing and flowing and showing new styles\nThat's where I'm coming from\nReality: that's what they're running from\nSo if you're down with Ice Cube, let me know that you know\nYo, turn off the radio\n\nYou know what? You know what?\nBasically those black guys and those rap guys\nThey don't know what the fuck they're doing\nI hate those fuckers, I hate 'em!\nEspecially that one guy\nThe AmeriKKKa's Most Wanted; Ice Cube\u2014I hate that fucker!\nGet him off the air, get him off, get him off\nGet that rap shit out of here!\nNigga, get me a gat, so I can smoke this motherfucker!\nHello?\nHi, this is D.E.L\nHey, I'm calling from 3838 Twin Oaks Way\nYeah, I just wanted to call to say fuck the radio!"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsWe Had to Tear This Muthafucka Up Lyrics\n\"Peace, quiet and good order will be maintained in our city to the best of our ability. Riots, melees and disturbances of the peace are against the interests of all our people and therefore, cannot be permitted.\"\n(\"The jury found that they were all not guilty, not guilty...\")\n\"We've been told that all along Crenshaw Boulevard, that there's a series of fires. A lot of looting is going on. A disaster area, obviously.\"\n(\"The jury found that they were all not guilty, not guilty...\")\nMake it rough!\n(\"A lot of activity continues here at this command post.\")\n Make it rough!\n(\"We have sporadic fires, throughout the city of Los Angeles.\")\n\nNot guilty, the filthy, devils tried to kill me\nWhen the news get to the hood the niggas will be\nHotter than cayenne pepper, cuss, bust\nKickin up dust is a must\nI can't trust, a cracker in a blue uniform\nStick a nigga like a unicorn\nBorn, wicked, Laurence, Powell, foul\nCut his fuckin throat and I smile\nGo to Simi Valley and surely\nSomebody knows the address of the jury\nPay a little visit, \"Who is it?\" (Ohh it's Ice Cube)\n\"Can I talk to the grand wizard,\" then boom!!\nMake him eat the barrel, modern day feral\nNow he's zipped up like Leather Tuscadero\nPretty soon we'll catch Sergeant Koon\nShoot him in the face, run up in him with a broom-\n-stick, prick, devils ain't shit\nIntroduce his ass to the AK-40 dick\nTwo days niggas layed in the cut\nTo get some respect, we had to tear this muthafucka up!\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\nMake it rough!\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\n\nI got a Mac-10 for Officer Wind\nDamn, his devil ass need to be shipped back to Kansas\nIn a casket, crew cut faggot\nNow he ain't nothing but food for the maggots\nLunch, punch, Hawaiian, lying\nNiggas ain't buying, ya story, bore me\nTearing up shit with fire, shooters, looters\nNow I got a laptop computer\nI told you it would happen, and you heard it, read it\nBut all you can call me was anti-Semitic\nRegret it? Nope, said it? Yep\nListen to my big black boots as I step\nNiggas had to break you off something, give Bush a push\nBut your National Guard ain't hard\nYou had to get Rodney to stop me, 'cause you know what?\nWe woulda to' this muthafucka up!\n\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\nMake it rough!\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\nAyy Muggs, make it rough!\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\nIt's on, \"Gone With the Wind\"\nAnd I know white men can't dunk\nNow I'm stealing blunts and a cake from Betty Crocker\nOrville Reddenbacher\nDon't fuck with the black-owned stores\nBut hit the Foot Lockers\nSteal, motherfuck Fire Marshall Bill\nOh, what the hell? Throw the cocktail, I smell smoke\nGot the fuck out, Ice Cube lucked out\nMy nigga had his truck out, didn't get stuck out\nIn front of that store with the Nikes and Adidas\nOh Jesus, Western Surplus got the heaters\nMeet us, so we can get the 9's and the what-nots\nGot the Mossberg with the double-eyed buckshot\nReady for Darryl, and like Baretta would say\nKeep your eye on the barrel, a sparrow\n\"Don't do the crime if you can't do the time\"\nBut I'm rolling, so that's a fucked-up slogan\nThe Hogan's, Heroes, spotted the guerilla by the Sizzler\nHitting up police killer\nThe super-duper nigga that'll buck\nWe had to tear this muthafucka up, so what the fuck?!\n\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\nHuh, make it rough!\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\nYo Muggs, make it rough\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\nHuh, make it rough\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\nEnough!\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\n\"Wrong nigga to fuck with!\"\n\"Not guilty verdicts for Stacey Koon, Laurence Powell, Timothy\nWind and Theodore Briseno: the four officers accused of beating\nMotorist Rodney King.\""}
{"text":"35 ContributorsBop Gun (One Nation) Lyrics\nAt these up late times, hardcore funkateers before the bop gun\nWe unleash you a positive light. The bop gun can do you no harm\nIt frees yo mind, so yo' behind can follow. (Yeahhh.)\nSo wide you can't get around it\nSo low you can't get under it\nSo high you can't get over it\nIIIIIIII, can't get over it\nAh yaaaaaa, di-dit-dit-dit-dit\nAh yaaaaaa, di-dit-dit-dit-dit\nAh yaaaaaa, di-dit-dit-dit-dit\nAh yaaaaaa, di-dit-dit-dit-dit\nWell all right!\nAh yaaaaaa, di-dit-dit-dit-dit\nAttention all radio station jocks\nAh yaaaaaa, di-dit-dit-dit-dit\nHaw haw, got to be groovin' jammin' on yo box\nAh yaaaaaa, di-dit-dit-dit-dit\nThe Mothership Connection is upon you again\nAh yaaaaaa, di-dit-dit-dit-dit\nYeah, workin' up a sweat, is it wet yet?\nReady or not, here we come\nGetting down for the one which we believe in\n\n1993, much more ba-e-ya-e-younce\nIce Cube comin' with the half ounce\nNot Just Knee Deep, Jeep fulla smog\nA, To, mic, Dog\nLike ya behind, heard it through the grapevine\nHow much longer will you be mine?\nAnd I'mma tell ya, I don't like drama\nSo do I have to put my handcuffs on your mama\n'Cause Bertha Butt did her fuckin' boogie with her crew\nBut I'd rather fuck you, boo\nAnd make you say humdrum, tweedee dum\nHumdrum don't succumb when I'm done, buckin' shit\nOne nation under a groove gettin down for the fuck of it\nTear the roof of this motherfucker like we did last night, son\nAnd hit you with the bop gun\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nHere's my chance to dance my way\nOut of my constriction\nGonna be freakin' up and down\nHang up really late\nThe groove I only got\nWe shall all be moved\nReady or not, here we come\nGettin down for the one which we believe in\nOne nation under a groove\nGettin down just for the funk of it\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin can stop us now\n{Yeah.}\nDance, sucka, dance!\n{Yeah, heh heh. And it don't stop. Sheeeit.}\nGivin' you more of what you're funkin' for\nAw, feet don't fail me now! Ha ha!\nGivin' you more of what you're funkin' for\nDo you promise the funk {yep}, the whole funk\nNothin but the funk?\n{Hit you with the bop gun, heh\nBuss a cap with my bop gun\nGotta hit you with the bop gun\nBuss a cap with the bop gun, hit you with the bop gun\nBuss a cap with the bop gun, heh, cause I'm the top gun...}\nReady. {yep} Ready. {yep} Ready. {yep, come on}\nReady or not, here we come\nGettin down on the one which we believe in\nIf you hear any noise, it's just me and the boys\nPlayin with our toys\nM-1, cuz everybody's gotta have fun\nUnder the sun, under the sun\nSo rough, so tough when I get down\nThe disco fiend with the monster sound\nI wants to get fucked up when I'm chillin', whoa\nThe bigger the headache, the bigger the pill-in\nYou let her funk me cause my funk is the best\nComin from the West\nKickin that shit be occupied, dedicated to the preservation motion of hips\nHittin them dips, cd skips but I'm straight\nAs I bounce, rock, skate, now I'll toast to that\nIf it's rough, make the girls say\n\"Do that stuff! Aw, do that stuff!\"\nBut ya got to be, you got to be a freak of the week\nFor the top gun, hit you with the bop gun\nOne nation under a groove\nGettin' down just for the funk of it\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin' can stop us now\n{Trick! Yeeah!} Jus hit 'em with the bop gun!\nOne nation under a groove {heh}\nGettin' down just for the funk of it\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin' can stop us now\n{Get up with the bop gun...}\nOne nation under a groove ('bout time we got down, one time)\nGettin' down just for {the fuck of it, yeahh}\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin' can stop us now\nOne nation under a groove (now everybody say)\nGettin' down just for the funk of it\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin' can stop us now\nHere's my chance to dance my way\nOut of my constriction\nFeet don't fail me now! Ha ha!\n{Get 'em with the bop gun\nI'm a' blast with the bop gun ... heh heh\nOn yo ass with the with the bop gun\nI'm talkin' trash with the bop gun ... yeah\nAnd it don't stop\nAnd it won't stop}\nHere's my chance to dance my wayyy\nOut of my constriction\n(Yeahhh, feel the shit now!)\n{Oh shit}\n... hear ya say Party over here fuck you over there!\nLemme hear ya say Party over here fuck you over there!\n{Oh yeah}\nLemme hear ya say Party over here fuck you over there!\nLemme hear ya say Party over here fuck you over there!\nLemme hear ya say Party over here fuck you over there!\nLemme hear ya say Party over here fuck you over there!\nGivin' you more of what you're funkin' for\nFeet don't fail me now\n(That's right!)\nDo you promise the funk\nGivin' you more of what you're funkin' for\nOoo, feet don't fail me now\nCan I get it on my good foot, good gawd\n'Bout time I got down one time\n(Can I get down one time)\n\nDo not attempt to adjust your radio\nThere ain't nothin' wrong, so hit the bong\nWaitin' on the double dutch bus for a ride\nAs the buffalo bitch go round the outside\nPut a glide in your stride and a dip in your hip\nGot Daytons on the mothership\nAnd you can ring my bell if you need me to pass\nThe dutchie on the left hand side for the sale\nCuz nobody knows where the nose goes when the doors close\nDog chow got the hoes\nLookin' for the theme from the Black Hole\nNow I'll big bang you with my black pole\nFlashlight, red light, we don't like cops on the bike\nJust made bail, tonight\nSo whatcha gonna do when you get outta jail?\nI'm gonna have some fun with the bop gun\n\n(Ready or not, here we come\nGetting down on the one which we believe in)\nOne nation under a groove\n(Here is my chance to dance my wayyy)\nGettin down just for the funk of it (One Nationnnn)\nOne nation and we're on the move\n(Get it on my good foot, good gawd)\nNothin can stop us now\n(Ha ha ha ha ha haeeee)\nOne nation under a groove\nGettin' down just for the funk of it\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin' can stop us now\n(Now I want everybody to put together this time ... hit me!)\nOne nation under a groove\n(Can I get it on my good foot)\nGettin down just for the funk of it\n(Bout time I got down one time)\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin' can stop us now\n(Uh huh, uh huh, one nation)\nOne nation under a groove\n(Can I get it on my good foot)\nGettin' down just for the funk of it\n(Bout time I got down one time)\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin' can stop us now\nOne nation under a groove (Ooh yeah)\nGettin' down just for the funk of it (Ooh yeah)\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin can stop us now\n(Ha ha ha ha ha haeeee)\nOne nation under a groove\nGettin' down just for the funk of it\n(Bout time I got down one time)\nOne nation and we're on the move\nNothin' can stop us nowwwwww"}
{"text":"18 ContributorsDrop Girl Lyrics\nDrop girl\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\n(If I hit the switch, I could make that ass drop)\nDrop girl\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\n(If I hit the switch, I could make that ass drop)\n\nStop, drop, and roll it\nI like bad bitches in that club that control it\nIf you tote it, uh huh, you get voted\nAnd to my haters, I'm back moded\nAnd we exploded on you motherfuckers\nWe took shots and reloaded on your motherfuckers\nAyy, I can't hear you talking to me\nDon't interupt me when I'm talking to the booty\n\nDrop girl\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\n(If I hit the switch, I could make that ass drop)\nDrop girl\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\n(If I hit the switch, I could make that ass drop)\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nStop, drop and pop it\nAnd after you pop it, please put it in my pocket\nLook here, I need a sponsor, we can turn the city out\nYou remind me of my drop top, titties out\nOoh yeah, and can spend about 50 thou\nAll you do is make 50 thou\nWe can run and go spend it now, haters\nRealize it just don't stop, see you at them pearly gates\nHit the button that make you, make you...\n\nDrop girl drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\n(If I hit the switch, I could make that ass drop)\n\nDrop drop it, lemme see you squat it\nType a nigga gettin' private dances in the public\nHit her from the back, grabbing on her shoulders\nHair weave killa, girl don't you get nervous\nCleaning some detergent, all my cars got curtains\nI left her like Ginobili\nMy Rollie cost a car, and I don't have a car note\nI took her from the bar to the car to the condo\nDrop girl drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\nDrop to the drop, drop to the drop, drop, drop girl, drop\n(If I hit the switch, I could make that ass) Drop\n\nBrought to you by Drop it like its hot and pick it up like\u2019s not production\nDealers in funky music and round jiggly shit you can play with\n(If I hit the switch, I could make that ass) Drop"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsUs Lyrics\nYo, where the fuck is that little boy at?\nStanley, bring your ass here, god damnit (Man, fuck you, punk ass nigga)\nBut anyway man, yo, Bone man\nWhen I get fourteen, man, I wanna buy me a rag top tray on some gold things (Stanley)\nMan, fuck that shit, man\nYou need to take your ass to school, get you a motherfuckin' job and shit\nMan, fuck that, man, fuck you, man, look here\nWhen I get fourteen, man, I wanna buy me a rag top tray on some gold with a three-wheel motion\nChin wheel pull out (Ah shit), three finger ring, fat ass link (Stanley) and a big booty go bitch to with it\nMan, fuck all that\nBreak 'em off something\nAha, it's really sad\nYoung brothers and sisters today have a lack of understanding on\nWhat it really means to be Black\n\nCould you tell me who unleashed our animal instinct? (Uh)\nAnd the white man sittin' there tickled pink (No shit)\nLaughin' at us on the avenue\nBustin' caps at each other after havin' brew\nWe can't enjoy ourselves\nToo busy jealous at each other's wealth (Right, right)\nBut comin' up's just in me\nBut the Black community is full of envy (Oh shit)\nToo much back-stabbin'\nWhile I look out the window I see all the Japs grabbin'\nEvery vacant lot in my neighborhood (Yup)\nBuild a store, and sell their goods\nTo the county recips\nYou know, us po' niggas, nappy hair and big lips? (That's right)\nFour or five babies on your crotch\nAnd you expect Uncle Sam to help us out? (Shit)\nWe ain't nothin' but porch monkeys to the average bigot, redneck honky\nYou say comin' up is a must\nBut before we can come up, take a look at us\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nYou dumb ass nigga\nBreak 'em off something\n\nAnd all y'all dope-dealers\nYou're as bad as the police 'cause ya kill us\nYou got rich when you started slangin' dope\nBut you ain't built us a supermarket (So shit)\nSo when can spend our money with the Blacks\nToo busy buyin' gold and Cadillacs (Huh)\nThat's what ya doin' with the money that ya raisin'\nExploitin' us like the Caucasians did (Yup)\nFor 400 years, I got 400 tears, for 400 peers\nDied last year from gang-related crimes\nThat's why I got gang-related rhymes (Right)\nBut when I do a show to kick some facts\nUs Blacks don't know how to act\nSometimes I believe the hype, man\nWe mess it up ourselves and blame the white man\nBut don't point the finger you jiggaboo\nTake a look at yourself, ya dumb nigga, you\nPretty soon Hip Hop won't be so nice\nNo Ice Cube, just Vanilla Ice (Man, fuck that)\nAnd you'll sit and scream and cuss\nBut there's no one to blame but us\nYeah, but why is it that one motherfucker can ruin it for twenty-two thousand motherfuckers\nWhen they wanna come see a good jam, you know what I'm sayin?\nAyy, Cube, tell 'em something, shit, you know how I feel?\nBreak 'em off something\n\nUs, we'll always sing the blues\n'Cause all we care about is hairstyles and tennis shoes\nAnd if ya step on mine ya pushed a button\n'Cause I'll beat you down like it ain't nothin'\nJust like a beast\nBut I'm the first nigga to holler out peace, black man\nI beat my wife and children to a pulp\nWhen I get drunk and smoke dope\nGot a bad heart condition\nStill eat hog-mogs and chitlin's\nBet my money on the dice or  the horses\nJobless, so I'm a ho for the armed forces\nGo to church but they tease us\nWith a picture of a blue-eyed Jesus\nThey used to call me Negro\nAfter all this time I'm still bustin' up the chiffarobe\nNo respect and ignored\nAnd I'm havin' more babies than I really can afford\nIn jail 'cause I can't pay the mother\nHeld back in life because of my color\nNow this is just a little summary\nOf us, but y'all think it's dumb of me\nTo hold a mirror to ya face, but trust\nNobody gives a fuck about"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsThe Predator Lyrics\n\"There's no stopping what can't be stopped... no killing what can't be killed...\"\nThere's something' out there waiting for us (Hahaha!)\nThere's something' out there waiting for us (Hahaha!)\n\nYou can run but you can't hide\nFrom the Westside night stalker, shit talker\nRun and tell them it's the L.M\nNigga with the gat, and I'm back\nOff the everyday prey that I slay\nRolling with a fo', chase ya through South Central\nMonkey-wrench ho should know that, she'll get the bozack\n'Cause I'm not starving, but fuck that Johnny Carson ho\nNever had me on the Late Night Show\nComing with the shit that'll hit\n\"Steady Mobbin'\" 'cause the flavor's good\nThere goes the neighborhood\nNigga with the third album; how come he don't fall off?\nRolling with the sawed-off gauge\nTurn the page of the chapter, caught up in the rapture\nBut you know Anita, she can get the peter\nEat 'em up, yum, and you're floored\nMotherfuck Billboard and the editor; here comes the Predator!\n\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back (There's something' out there waiting for us)\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back (There's something' out there waiting for us)\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nCheck your head for the new style\nFuck Laurence Powell and Briseno, Wind and Koon, pretty soon\nWe'll fuck them like they fucked us and won't kiss 'em\nRiots ain't nothing but diets for the system\nFighting with the beast, no justice, no peace\nIf any, even if we fuck up Denny\nNiggas are sick of your white man tricks with no treat\nThat's right; now it's on, on sight\nYou call me a Muslim, no, I'm not a resident\nStill got my vote in\u2014Farrakhan for president\nOf white America, I'm tearing ya a new asshole\nWho's the nigga with the new black\nStrolling to your suburb house and I douse\nWith gas, now who's cleaning up trash?\nEat 'em up, yum, and you're floored\nMotherfuck Billboard and the editor; here comes the Predator!\n\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out... (Here comes the Predator!)\n(There's something' out there waiting for us)\n\nGot my black rag showing, and I'm hoin'; Ira Reiner\nCan kiss my grits like Flo, on \"Mel's Diner\"\nI'm meaner than a motherfucking hyena chasing antelope\nPut my chrome to your dome, watch it bust like a cantaloupe\nI can't stand a rope, so don't try to hang 'em\nTalk about dogs; boy, I can slang 'em!\nRat-a-tat-tat on your noggin\n'Cause Ice'll cream your ass like H\u00e4agen-Dazs\nChocolate, I get crazy when I catch wreck\nEven be flipping the tongue like da-diggity-dung Das-EFX\nSo who is Ice Cube? I'm a rapper, actor, macker\nGot a little problem with the redneck cracker, did the tallywacker\nJerry Heller is a devil shit-packer\nComing with a crazy pitch\nAnd the Statue of Liberty ain't nothing but a lazy bitch!\nDon't wanna give up the crack, to the black\nBut you'll call it racial, if we go and rape the hoe\nBut eat 'em up, yum, and you're floored\nMotherfuck Billboard and the editor; I am the Predator!\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out...\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out, but I'll be back\nYo, I'm out... (Hahahaha!)\n\n\"They indicated, that when trapped, the creature activated a self-destruct device that destroyed enough rainforest to cover three hundred city blocks.\"\n(*explosion*)"}
{"text":"12 ContributorsIt Was a Good Day (Remix) Lyrics\nHahahah\nThat's right\nSmooth, hah\nYeah\nHahahahah\n\nJust waking up in the mornin', gotta thank God\nI don't know, but today seems kinda odd\nNo barkin' from the dogs, no smog\nAnd momma cooked a breakfast with no hog\nI got my grub on, but didn't pig out\nFinally got a call from a girl, I wanna dig out\nHooked it up for later as I hit the do'\nThinkin', \"Will I live another twenty-fo'?\"\nI gotta go, 'cause I got me a drop-top\nAnd if I hit the switch, I can make the ass drop\nHad to stop, at a red light\nLookin' in my mirror, not a jacker in sight\nAnd everything is alright\nI got a beep from Kim, and she can do it all night\nCalled up the homies and I'm askin y'all\n\"Which park are y'all playin basketball?\"\nGet me on the court and I'm trouble\nLast week messed around and got a triple double\nFreakin' brothers everyway like MJ\nI can't believe, today was a good day\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nCreep to the pad and hit the showers\nDidn't even get no static from the cowards\nCause just yesterday them fools tried to blast me\nSaw the police and they rolled right past me\nNo flexin', didn't even look in a brother's direction\nAs I ran the intersection\nWent to $hort Dog's house, they was watchin' Yo! MTV Raps\nWhat's the haps on the craps?\nShake 'em up, shake 'em up, shake 'em up, shake 'em\nRoll 'em in a circle of homies and watch me break 'em\nWith the seven, seven-eleven, seven-eleven\nSeven even back do' Little Joe\nPicked up the cash flow\nThen we played bones, and I'm yellin', \"Domino\"\nPlus nobody I know got killed in South Central L.A\nToday was a good day\n\nHahah\nHahah\n\nLeft my homie's house paid\nPicked up a girl, been tryna do since the twelve grade\nIt's ironic, I had the brew, she had the chronic\nThe Lakers beat the Supersonics\nFelt on the big fat fanny\nPulled out the jammy, and killed the punani\nAnd my Jimmy runs deep, so deep\nSo deep put her butt to sleep\nWoke her up around one\nShe didn't hesitate, to call Ice Cube the top gun\nDrove her to the pad and I'm coastin'\nTook another sip of the potion, hit the three-wheel motion\nI was glad everything had worked out\nDropped her butt off and then chirped out\nToday was like one of those fly dreams\nDidn't even see a berry flashin' those high beams\nNo helicopter lookin' for the murder\nTwo in the mornin', got the Fatburger\nEven saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp\nAnd it read, \"Ice Cube's a pimp\"\nDrunk as hell, but no throwin' up\nHalf way home and my pager still blowin' up\nToday I didn't even have to use my AK\nI gotta say it was a good day"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsEndangered Species (Tales From The Darkside) Lyrics\n\"At the bottom of our news tonight, there's been a new animal aimed in the direction of falling off the face of the Earth. Yes, young black teenagers are reported to be the oldest, and the newest, creatures added to the endangered species list. As of now, no efforts have been made to preserve the Blacks. When asked why, a top law official adds, 'Because they make good game'\"\n(A young nigga got it bad cause I'm brown)\n\nPeace? Hahaha, don't make me laugh!\nAll I hear is motherfuckers rappin' succotash\nLivin' large, tellin' me to get out the gang\nI'm a nigga, gotta live by the trigga\nHow the fuck do you figure\nThat I can say \"Peace\" and the gunshots will cease?\nEvery cop killing goes ignored\nThey just send another nigga to the morgue\nA point scored, they could give a fuck about us\nThey rather catch us with guns and white powder\nIf I was old, they'd probably be a friend of me\nSince I'm young, they consider me the enemy\nThey kill ten of me to get the job correct\nTo serve, protect, and break a nigga's neck\nCuz I'm the one with the trunk of funk\nAnd \"Fuck tha Police\" in the tape deck\nYou should listen to me cuz there's more to see\nCall my neighborhood a ghetto cuz it houses minorities\nThe other color don't know you can run but not hide\nThese are tales from the darkside\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nAll of us are endangered, damn!\n(A young nigga got it bad cause I'm brown)\n(A young nigga got it bad cause I'm brown)\n\nYou wanna free Africa? I'll stare at ya\nCuz we ain't got it too good in America\nI can't fuck with them overseas\nMy homeboy died over ki's\nOf cocaine, it was plain and simple\nThe 9mm went (buck) to the temple\n(Buck, buck, buck) was the sound I put the bitch down\nAnd ran to the schoolyard bathroom\nLooked in the trash can, yo it had room\nSo I ducked my ass in it for a minute\nCovered with trash I had to lay back\nMad as fuck, thinkin' about the payback\nTonight the crew gonna have a little fun\nI went home and cut the barrel of my shotgun\nIt's gettin' critical - I stole a 5.0\nI let it go - drive real slow\nI yelled out \"Ice Cube, sucka\"\nThe shotgun kicked, and it murdered motherfuckers\nI told you last album\n\"When I got a sawed-off, bodies are hauled off\"\nIts a shame, that niggas die young\nBut to the light side it don't matter none\nIt'll be a drive by homicide\nBut to me its just another tale from the darkside\n\nStanding in the middle of war, the minute we flex\nWhen we die, we won't make Jet\nEbony can't see to the light side\nThe term they apply to us is a nigga\nCall it what you want, cause I'm comin\u2019 from the corner\nSame applies to a Ph.D\nWho's black - don't wanna roll - sells his soul\nWatch his head go rollin\u2019\nWho the fuck are they foolin\u2019?\nNobody knows, but I suppose the color of my clothes\nMatches the color of the one on my face\nAs they wonder whats under my waist\n(Standin' on the verge) of them gettin\u2019 brown\nThat's a fact, got a fear of the bozack\nRun, run, run, their ass off, they can not hide\nYeah Cube, they can't fuck with the darkside!"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsDown For Whatever Lyrics\nDamn, I'm broke\nMy feet hurt\nInside the mind of a car jacker\nAnd that bitch is slipping\nDamn, it makes me wanna creep\nDamn, it makes me wanna creep\nI got something for your mind, your body and your soul\nI got something for your mind, your body and your soul\n\nDamn, I'm such a G it's pathetic\nHere comes the big-headed\nNigga that's dipping\nSipping on Courvoisier\nGoddamn I must have to floss today\nNow pimping ain't easy but it's necessary\nSo I'm chasing bitches like Tom chased Jerry\nI'll put the pedal to the floor\nIn my two-tone Ford Explorer\nYou know how it's done\nSounds bumping\nAin't that something\nJumped on the 110\nShe's flying in the Blazer\nLike go Speed Racer\nBut I ain't gonna chase her\nLike Racer X\nBut I won't flex\nTil it's time to have sex\nSo when you wanna get together\nCause you know a nigga like me\nIs down for whatever\nDamn, and I'm down for whatever\nDamn\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nWhen I was little I didn't wanna be like Mike\nI wanted to be like Ike, cause\nPapa Was A Rollin' Stone in the sixties\nAnd he liked green just like Bill Bixby\nTold me that my best friend was a ten and a twenty\nPockets never skinny\nPlayed Let's Get It On in the living room\nAnd when he got drunk, you'd better give him room\nCause he'll turn the party out saying\n\"This is MY muthafuckin house!\"\nAnd y'all gots to go through the door\nAnd if you can't find the door\nHe'll help you with the four-four\nTalking much shit on the grass\nAnd straight down to blast\nI'm still in my PJs;\nHe's in a turtleneck sweater\nAnd we down for whatever\nAnd I'm down\nSolid Pro is down for whatever\nThe Don Jagwarr is down for whatever\nAnd it don't seem to stop\n\nNow, I don't talk a lot of shit\nBut when it's time to get busy with these hoes, let's go\nCause I'd rather see a skinhead dead\nThen my niggas wearing blue or red\nCause I got the gift\nTo hit these hoes swift\nAnd I'm smelling like a fifth of something\nYeah, that's right\nI'm standing in the store\nKoreans act so nice\nCause I got potentials to blow up a Winchells\nDonut\nAnd you know what\nI'm Cool Like Dat like Digable Planets\nBut don't take a nigga for granted\nCause whether it's a verdict or the L.A. four\nYou just don't know\nThat this rapping-ass nigga will change with the weather\nAnd be down for whatever\nAnd I'm down\nCreep\nAnd I'm down for whatever\nBump it in your Jeep\nIce Cube - D'voidofpop\nAnd I will never dance for you trick-ass niggas\nIt makes me wanna creep\nIt makes me wanna creep"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsDrink The Kool-Aid Lyrics\nThis ain't Sinatra!\nThis ain't the Carter!\nI am the chaperone nigga...Who brought ya!\nI am the author! This is Holy water!\nFrom the Holy Father...The Rock of Gibraltar!\nStep up to the altar! Step up to the slaughter!\nGet circumsize son and turned into a daughter!\nNiggas know they oughta drink the fucking Kool-Aid!\nIndustry laid out authorities are too late!\nMC's passed the due date! Niggas? They do hate!\nYou are Bobby Boucher, I'm the Mane like Gucci!\nI rock the Louis! But not like Kanye!\nNigga see me kinda like...Harry Belafonte!\nStep into the room they be like: \"Ah, Day-O!\"\nYeah, cause they know a nigga ain't play-doe!\nShots all fatal! Is this Laredo?\nBoarder town knock them down just like Lego's!\n\nDrink the Kool-Aid!\nI make a motherfucker drink the kool aid!\n\n(Let them know!) Do you (Let them know!) Do you\n(Let them know!) Know who you fucking with? Know who you fucking with?\nDo you (Let them know!) Do you\n(Let them know!) Know who you fucking with? Know who you fucking with?\nAlways (Always!) Always (Always!)\nKnow who you fucking with! Know who you fucking with!\nAlways (Always!) Always (Always!)\nKnow who you fucking with! Know who you fucking with!\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nI ain't the Doctor! This ain't the patient!\nThis ain't that nigga always on vacation!\nThis ain't no white boy's rehabilitation!\nThis is crazier than a boat full of Haitians!\nThis is inflation mixed with degradation!\nThis ain't no dead rappers reincarnation!\nI heard it was a New West Coast, I ain't worried!\nI murder more stars than Conrad Murray!\nI got more bars than the penitentiary!\nI wrote this shit without a rhyme dictionary!\nYoung bucks try to step up to the harim!\nLooking for some pussy I'm an old buck, I dare them!\n\n(Let them know!) Do you (Let them know!) Do you\n(Let them know!) Know who you fucking with? Know who you fucking with?\nDo you (Let them know!) Do you\n(Let them know!) Know who you fucking with? Know who you fucking with?\nAlways (Always!) Always (Always!)\nKnow who you fucking with! Know who you fucking with!\nAlways (Always!) Always (Always!)\nKnow who you fucking with! Know who you fucking with!\n\nDrink the Kool-Aid!\nI make a motherfucker drink the kool aid!\nI-I-I-Ice Cube! (Yeah its the cube)\nThe Don...(Let 'em know!) Ain't no stopping the G!\nThey call me (The Don, nigga!)\n\n(Let them know!) Do you (Let them know!) Do you\n(Let them know!) Know who you fucking with? Know who you fucking with?\nDo you (Let them know!) Do you\n(Let them know!) Know who you fucking with? Know who you fucking with?\nAlways (Always!) Always (Always!)\nKnow who you fucking with! Know who you fucking with!\nAlways (Always!) Always (Always!)\nKnow who you fucking with! Know who you fucking with!"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsYou Can\u2019t Fade Me \/ JD\u2019s Gafflin\u2019 Lyrics\nDrop a old school beat\n\nNow the taste of alcohol is filling up my bladder\nWhat's the date and time, it don't matter\nHad a pocket full of phone numbers, I was trying to sort\nTo make a long story short\nRan into, this girl named Carla\nKnew her from the back seat of my homie's Impala\nShe said what's up, yeah, what's the deal?\nCheck the hairdo, of course it ain't real\nThen I looked down, she was fat in the front\nI asked how long, \"Well, about seven months\"\nOh, how time flies when you're having fun\nShe said \"Yeah but the damage is done\nWhere you been?\" \"On a little vacation\nOh by the way, congratulations\nWho's the lucky man? I don't have a clue!\"\nThen she said \"The lucky man is you,\" I dropped my brew\nAnd everything looked fuzzy\nNot a baby by you, the neighborhood hussy\nShe said \"Yeah, remember that date?\"\nI thought back and tried to calculate\nThen I said \"Damn, are you sure it's mine?\n'Cause I know you been tossed plenty of times\"\nShe said \"That day, no I wasn't whoring\nYour ass is mine,\" that's when the sweat started pouring\n'Cause all I saw was Ice Cube in court\nPaying a gang on child support\nThen I thought deep about giving up the money\nWhat I need to do is kick the bitch in the tummy\nNaw 'cause then I'd really get faded\nThat's murder one 'cause it was premeditated\nSo what I'ma do, I don't have a clue\nHow many months left, damn only two\nI'm gettin faded\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\n(\"Livin' and jivin' and diggin' the skin he's in...\")\nNo cigar, G\n\nAy yo, homey, man, I'm getting faded\n\nIt's crazy 'cause before I could sleep with her\nI had to duck and dodge and try to creep with her\nSee the booty and the front was all in place\nBut the girl had the pitbull face\nSo we ran jumped drove swam crawled hid\nOh lord god forbid\nMy homies see me at the motel\n'Cause those fools would love to just go tell\nEverybody in the hood that knows your rep\nSo jump in the back seat and quiet is kept\nAnd hold your big fat butt steady\n'Cause yo, ho, I got the paper bag ready\nShe started moaning and gobbling like a turkey\nI knocked the boots from here to Albuquerque\nI dropped her off man and I'm knowing\nThat I'm a hate myself in the morning\nI got drunk to help me forget\nYo another day another hit, shit\nI'm gettin faded\n(\"Livin' and jivin' and diggin' the skin he's in...\")\nAy yo, you know what time it is\n(\"Livin' and jivin' and diggin' the skin he's in\" \"Whoa yeah\")\n\nNine months later she's ready to drop the load\nAnd everybody in the hood already knows\nIt's supposed to be mine so they laughing at me\nYou know Ice Cube can't be having that, G\nI'm thinking to myself why did I bang her\nNow I'm in the closet looking for the hanger\nJD and Jinx and T-Bone won't let up, they won't shut up\nI'm gettin fed up, bitch\n'Cause I know you're tryin' to break me\nBut if I find out your tryin' to fake me\nI'm a buff that duff and hoot\nBeat ya down and leave a crown or two\nThat night she went into labor\nAnd the shit is getting kinda major\nThe baby came out, damn it was a lifesaver\nLooking like my next-door neighbor\nShe said it was mine, it was her best guess\nBut let's check the results of the blood test\nI started smiling yeah 'cause it read negative\nDamn, why did I let her live?\nAfter that I should've got the gat\nAnd bust and rushed and illed and peeled the cap\nBut no I just told the ho who laid me\nExcuse me bitch it's a switch\nYou can't fade me\nNaw baby, not this way\nYo, you ain't playing Ice Cube out like no booger\nI don't fall for the okey-doke\nAnd before I fall for the okey-doke, I let the pistol smoke\nNow sing it\n(\"Livin' and jivin' and diggin' the skin he's in...\")\nHa ha, yeah baby, you can't fade me\n(\"Livin' and jivin' and diggin' the skin he's in\" \"Whoa yeah\")\n(\"Livin' and jivin' and diggin' the skin he's in...\")\nNah, unfadeable baby, yo\n(\"Livin' and jivin' and diggin' the skin he's in\" \"Whoa yeah\")\nI ain't never got gaffled like that, I used to do the gafflin'\nMcDonald's is my spot (What you used to do?)\nJack them motherfuckers for them Nissan trucks\nRight in the drive-thru.  \"Nigga, get your motherfuckin' food, leave it in the car, nigga, get out.\"  Straight jackin'"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsJackin\u2019 For Beats Lyrics\nWait a minute, hold on, get your ass up\nWhassup nigga?\nGet over there... shit\nYa lil punk ass nigga\nC'mere, c'mere, c'mere boy\nGod damnit you stop that shit now\nTake him to jail and get him the hell from in front of this house\nNow wait a minute, wait a minute, hey man\nWhassup?\nWait a minute?\nThere are police, go!\n\nGive me that beat, fool, it's a full time jack move\nChilly Chill, yo homie make the track move\nAnd I'll jack any Tom, Dick and Hank\nThat's the name of the suckers I done ganked\nI get away from a copper\nDrop a dime, I'll break you off somethin' proper\nWith the L-E-N-C-H-M-O-B\nT-Bone and that's J-Dee\nAnd here's how we'll greet ya\nStop fool, come off that beat ya\nFeel dumb cause you're caught in the dark\n(Ya lil' nuttin' ass mark)\nRaise up, cause you can't' have it back\nYou said - \"I ain't never got gaffled like that\"\nOff the end of the gat you choke\nShort Dog's in the house - \"Whattup loc?\"\nNuttin' but a come up\nGimme that bass, and don't try to run up\n'Cause you'll get banked somethin' sweet\nIce Cube and Da Lench Mob, is jackin' for beats\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nHuh, and even if you're down with my crew\n*Yo Chuck man, I don't understand this man\nYou got to slow down*\nI jack them too\nAnd then we'll freak it\nKick that bass, and look what we did\nFade the grade, played, and made a few mil'\nAnd I keep stealin'\nIce Cube'll make it thump\nBut right about now - *let's get over the hump*\nBut I don't party and shake my butt\nI leave that to the brothers with the funny haircuts\nAnd it'll drive you nuts\nSteal your beat, and give it that gangsta touch\nLike jackin' and mackin'\nSay hi to the three fifty-seven I'm packin'\nAnd it sounds so sweet\nIce Cube and Da Lench Mob, is jackin' for beats\n\nIce Cube, I take a funky beat and reshape it\nLocate a dope break, and then I break it\nAnd give it that gangsta lean\nDead in your face as I turn up the bass\nI make punk suckers run and duck because\nI don't try to hide 'cause you know that I love to\nJack a fool for his beat and then I'm outtie\nSo when I come to your town don't crowd me\n'Cause I know, you're gonna wanna kick it with me\nBut I know, none of y'all can get with me\nSo you think you're protected\nWell you are 'til you put a funky beat on a record\nThen I have to show and prove and use your groove\n'Cause suckers can't fade the Cube\nAnd if I jack ya and ya keep comin'\nI have you marks a hundred miles and runnin'\n*stop stop stop stop stop!\nSa-prize, niggas*"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsHow to Survive in South Central Lyrics\nAnd now, the wonderous world of..\nHey, come to Los Angeles!\nWhere you and your family can have peace and tranquility\nEnjoy the refinement..\nHey Bone, hey nigga where you at though?\nHello, my name is Elaine\nAnd I'll be your tour guide through South Central Los Angeles\n\nHow to survive in South Central (what you do?)\nA place where bustin a cap is fundamental\nNo, you can't find the shit in a handbook\nTake a close look, at a rap crook\nRule number one: get yourself a gun\nA nine in your ass'll be fine\nKeep it in your glove compartment\nCause jackers (yo) they love to start shit\nNow if you're white you can trust the police\nBut if you're black they ain't nothin but beasts\nWatch out for the kill\nDon't make a false move and keep your hands on the steering wheel\nAnd don't get smart\nAnswer all questions, and that's your first lesson\nOn stayin alive\nIn South Central, yeah, that's how you survive\nSee Ice Cube LiveGet tickets as low as $77You might also like\nHi, this is Elaine again\nAre you enjoying your stay in South Central Los Angeles?\nOr has somebody taken your things?\nHave you witnessed a driveby?\nOkay, make sure you have your camcorder ready\nTo witness the extracurricular activities on blacks by the police\nSo you and your family can enjoy this tape, over and over again\nThis is Los Angeles, this is Los Angeles\n\nRule number two: don't trust nobody\nEspecially a bitch, with a hooker's body\nCause it ain't nuttin but a trap\nAnd females'll get you jacked and kidnapped\nYou'll wind up dead\nJust to be safe don't wear no blue or red\nCause most niggas get got\nIn either L.A., Compton or Watts\nPissed off black human beings\nSo I think you better skip the sight-seeing\nAnd if you're nuttin but a mark\nMake sure that you're in before dark\nBut if you need some affection, mate\nMake sure the bitch ain't a Section 8\nCause if so that's a monkey-wrench ho\nAnd you won't survive in South Central\nNow you realize it's not all that it's cracked up to be\nYou realize that it's fucked up!\nIt ain't nothin like the shit you saw on TV\nPalm trees and blonde bitches?\nI'd advise to you to pack your shit and get the fuck on, punk motherfucker!\nAnd you'll get your ass straight smoked\nYo I wanna say whassup to DJ Chilly Chill, Sir Jinx\nAiy'yo Cube these motherfuckers don't know what time it is\nSo show these motherfuckers what's happenin'\nTell these motherfuckers, don't fuck around in South Central\nGod dammit!\n\nRule number three: don't get caught up\nCause niggas are doing anything that's thought up\nAnd they got a price\nOn everything from dope, to stolen merchandise\nWeed to sherm\nCause South Central L.A., is one big germ\nWaitin for a brother like you to catch a disease\nAnd start slangin ki's\nTo an undercover or the wrong brother\nAnd they'll smother, a out of town motherfucker\nSo don't take your life for granted\nCause it's the craziest place on the planet\nIn L.A., heroes don't fly through the sky of stars\nThey live behind bars\nSo everybody's doin' a little dirt\nAnd it's the youngsters puttin' in the most work\nSo be alert and stay calm\nAs you enter, the concrete Vietnam\nYou say, the strong survive\nShit, the strong even die, in South Central\nYeah you bitches, you think I forgot about your ass you tramp-ass hoes?\nYou better watch out\nAnd for you so called baller-ass niggas, you know what time it is\nSouth Central ain't no joke\nGot to keep your gat at all times motherfuckers\nBetter keep one in the chamber and nine in the clip god dammit\nYou'll sho' get got, just like that\nThis ain't no joke motherfuckers\nNow I wanna send a shout-out to E-Dog, the engineer\nPuttin' his two cents in\nThis is Los Angeles"}
{"text":"\nMhm, I look up\nYeah, and I take my time, nigga\nI'ma take my time, woah\nMhm, power moves only, nigga\n\nBoy, I'm 'bout my business on business, I drink liquor on liquor\nI had women on women: yeah, that's bunk-bed bitches\nI've done lived more than an 80-year-old man still kickin'\n\u2018Cause they live for some moments, and I live for a livin'\nBut this for the girls who barely let me get to first base\nOn some ground ball shit\n\u2018Cause now I run my city on some town hall shit\nThey prayin' on my motherfuckin' downfall, bitch\nLike a drought, but you gon' get this rain like it's May weather\nG.O.O.D. Music, 'Ye weather\nChampagne just tastes better\nThey told me I never, boy, never say never\nSwear flow special like an infant's first steps\nI got paid then reversed debts\nThen I finally found a girl that reverse stress\nSo now I'm talkin' to the reaper to reverse death\nYep, so I can kick it with my granddad, take him for a ride\nShow him I made somethin' out myself and not just tried\nShow him the house I bought the fam, let him tour inside\nNo matter how far ahead I get, I always feel behind in my mind\nBut fuck tryin' and not doin'\n\u2018Cause not doin' is somethin' a nigga not doin'\nI said fuck tryin' and not doin'\n\u2018Cause not doin' is somethin' a nigga not doin'\nI grew up to Em, B.I.G., and Pac, bitch, and got ruined\nSo until I got the same crib B.I.G. had in that \"Juicy\" vid\nBitch, I can't motherfuckin' stop movin'\nGo against me, you won't stop losin'\nFrom the city where every month is May-Day at home, spray your dome\nNiggas get sprayed up like A.K. was cologne for a paycheck or loan\nYeah, I know that shit ain't fair\nThey say Detroit ain't got a chance, we ain't even got a mayor\nYou write your name with a Sharpie, I write mine in stone\nI knew the world was for the taking and wouldn't take long\nWe on, tryna be better than everybody that's better than everybody\nRep Detroit, everybody, Detroit vers' everybody\nI'm so fuckin' first class I could spit up on every pilot\nThe city's my Metropolis, feel it, it's metabolic\nAnd I'm over niggas sayin' they're the hottest niggas\nThen run to the hottest niggas just to stay hot\nI'm one of the hottest because I flame drop\nDrop fire, and not because I'm namedroppin', Hall of Fame droppin'\nAnd I ain't takin' shit from nobody unless they're OGs\n\u2018Cause that ain't the way of a OG\nSo I G-O collect mo' Gs, every dollar\nNever changed though, I'm just the new version of old me\nForever hot-headed but never got cold feet\nGot up in the game, won't look back at my old seats\nClique so deep we take up the whole street\nI need a bitch so bad that she take up my whole week\nSean Don\nYou might also like\nMiscellaneous minds are never explainin' their minds\nDevilish grin for my alias aliens to respond\nPeddlin' sin, thinkin' maybe when you get old you realize\nI'm not gonna fold or demise\nI don't smoke crack, motherfucker, I sell it!\nBitch, everything I rap is a quarter piece to your melon\nSo if you have a relapse, just relax and pop in my disc\nDon't you pop me no fuckin' pill\nI'ma pop you, then give you this\n\nTell Flex to drop a bomb on this shit\nSo many bombs, ring the alarm, like Vietnam on this shit\nSo many bombs, make Farrakhan think that Saddam in this bitch\nOne at a time, I line them up\nAnd bomb on they mom while she watchin' the kids\nI'm in a destruction mode if the gold exists\nI'm important like the Pope, I'm a Muslim on pork\nI'm Makaveli's offspring, I'm the King of New York\nKing of the Coast; one hand, I juggle 'em both\nThe juggernaut's all in your jugular, you take me for jokes\nLive in the basement, church pews, and funeral faces\nCartier bracelets for my women friends, I'm in Vegas\nWho the fuck y'all thought it's supposed to be?\nIf Phil Jackson came back, still no coachin' me\nI'm uncoachable, I'm unsociable, fuck y'all clubs!\nFuck y'all pictures! Your Instagram can gobble these nuts!\nGobble dick up 'til you hiccup, my big homie Kurupt\nThis the same flow that put the rap game on a crutch\n(West, West, West, West, West, West)\nI've seen niggas transform like villain Decepticons\nMollies probably turn these niggas to fuckin' Lindsay Lohan\nA bunch of rich-ass white girls lookin' for parties\nPlayin' with Barbies\nWreck the Porsche before you give them the car key\nJudgement to the monarchy, blessings to Paul McCartney\nYou called me a black Beatle, I'm either that or a Marley\nI don't smoke crack, motherfucker, I sell it!\nI'm dressed in all black, this is not for the fan of Elvis\nI'm aimin' straight for your pelvis\nYou can't stomach me? You plan on stumpin' me?\nBitch, I\u2019ve been jumped before you put a gun on me\nBitch, I put one on yours, I'm Sean Connery\nJames Bonding with none of you niggas\nClimbin' 100 mil in front of me\nAnd I'm gonna get it even if you're in the way\nAnd if you're in it, better run for Pete's sake\nI heard the barbershops be in great debates all the time\n'Bout who's the best MC: Kendrick, Jigga, and Nas\nEminem, Andr\u00e9 3000; the rest of y'all\nNew niggas just new niggas, don't get involved\nAnd I ain't rockin' no more designer shit\nWhite T\u2019s and Nike Cortez, this red Corvette's anonymous\nI'm usually homeboys with the same niggas I'm rhymin' with\nBut this is hip-hop, and them niggas should know what time it is\nAnd that goes for Jermaine Cole, Big K.R.I.T., Wale\nPusha T, Meek Millz, A$AP Rocky, Drake\nBig Sean, Jay Electron', Tyler, Mac Miller\nI got love for you all, but I'm tryna murder you niggas\nTryna make sure your core fans never heard of you niggas\nThey don't wanna hear not one more noun or verb from you niggas\nWhat is competition? I'm tryna raise the bar high\nWho tryna jump and get it? You're better off tryna skydive\nOut the exit window of five G5's with five grand\nWith your granddad as the pilot, he drunk as fuck, tryna land\nWith the hand full of arthritis and poppin' prosthetic leg\nBumpin' Pac in the cockpit so the shit that pops in his head\nIs an option of violence, someone heard the stewardess said\nThat your parachute is a latex condom hooked to a dread\nWest Coast\nYou could check my name on the books\nI Earth Wind & Fire\u2019d the verse, then reigned on the hook\nThe legend of Dorothy Flowers proclaimed from the roof\nThe tale of a magnificent king who came from the nooks\nOf the wild magnolia, mother of many soldiers\nWe live by every single word she ever told us\nWatch over your shoulders\nAnd keep a tin of beans for when the weather turn the coldest\nThe Lord is our shepherd, so our cup runneth over\nPut your trust in the Lord, but tether your Chevy Nova\nI\u2019m spittin' this shit for closure\nAnd God is my witness, so you could get it from Hova\nTo all you magicians that\u2019s fidgetin' with the cobra\nI\u2019m solid as a rock, \u2018cause I came from a rock\nThat\u2019s why I came with the rock\nThen signed my name on the Roc\nDraw a line around some Earth, then put my name on the plot\n\u2018Cause I endured a lot of pain for everythang that I got\nThe eyelashes like umbrellas when it rain from the heart\nAnd the tissue is like an angel kissin' you in the dark\nYou go from blind sight to hindsight\nPassion of the Christ, right, to baskin' in the limelight\nIt take time to get your mind right\nJay Electricity, PBS Mysteries\nIn a lofty place tanglin' with Satan over history\nYou can\u2019t say shit to me, \u0627\u0644\u062d\u0645\u062f \u0644\u0644\u0647\u200e\nIt\u2019s strictly by faith that we made it this far"}
{"text":"Uh-huh\nFuck\n\n(Mustard on the beat, ho) I don't fuck wit' you\nYou lil' stupid ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' wit'chu\nYou lil', you lil' dumb ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' wit'chu\nI got a million trillion things I'd rather fuckin' do\nThan to be fuckin' with you (You,) lil' stupid ass\n\nI don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck, I don't, I don't\nI don't give a fuck, bitch, I don't give a\nFuck about you, or anything that you do\nI don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck, I don't, I don't\nDon't give a fuck about you, or anything that you do\nI don't give a fuck, uh\n\nI heard you got a new man, I see you takin' a pic (Woah)\nThen you post it up, thinkin' that it's makin' me sick\nBrr brr, I see you callin', I be makin' it quick\nI'ma answer that shit like, \"I don't fuck wit'-\nChu, bitch, I got no feelings to go\nI swear I had it up to here, I got no ceilings to go\nI mean, for real, fuck how you feel\nFuck your two cents if it ain't goin' towards the bill, yeah\nAnd every day I wake up celebratin' shit, why?\n\u2018Cause I just dodged a bullet from a crazy bitch, I\nStuck to my guns (Woah,) that's what made me rich\nThat's what put me on, that's what got me here, that's what made me this (This)\nAnd everything that I do is my first name (B-I-G)\nThese hoes chase bread, aw damn, she got a bird brain\nAin't nothin' but trill in me, aw man, silly me\nI just bought a crib, three stories; that bitch a trilogy\nAnd you know I'm rollin' weed that's fuckin' up the ozone\nI got a bitch that text me she ain't got no clothes on (Swerve)\nAnd then another one text (Swerve, swerve,) then your ass next\nAnd I'ma text your ass back, like\u2014\nYou might also like\nI don't fuck wit' you\nYou lil' stupid ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' wit'chu\nYou lil', you lil' dumb ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' wit'chu\nI got a million trillion things I'd rather fuckin' do\nThan to be fuckin' with you, lil' stupid ass\n\nI don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck, I don't, I don't\nI don't give a fuck, bitch, I don't give a (E-40)\nFuck about you, or anything that you do\nI don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck, I don't, I don't\nDon't give a fuck about you, or anything that you do (Hawoo)\nI don't give a fuck, uh\n\nGot a million things on my mind, executive deals online, limited amount of time\nChasin' these dollar signs and you ain't on your grind\nYou liable to find me up in the MGM casino in the D\nFuckin' off fetti I could've put on property\nFrom the Bay to the Murder Mitten, my niggas put murder missions\nShe choosin', that's her decision, free my niggas in prison\nOn the phone with a bitch who can't do shit\nFor a pimp but make a nigga hella rich (Hella rich)\nGot a blunt in my dental, blowin' hemp in a rental\nOn my way to Sacramento, late night; Arsenio (Arsenio)\nI'm never sentimental, go hard or go homeless\nBarely Harley, I'm chromeless (Uh,) you might end up domeless (Uh)\nI bet you she into me, her cheddar, she givin' me\nI'll make a bitch stand outside forever, like the Statue of Liberty (Mmm)\nRest in pimp, Pimp C, underground king of the South\nI raise my styrofoam up, and pour some drink in my mouth (Pour up)\nWhy you always comin' around with bad news? (Bad news)\nSay you want me to win, but hope I lose (Hope I lose)\nAskin' if I rock with other niggas in the crew (Crew,) but them niggas cool (Cool)\nIt's just that\u2014\nI don't fuck wit' you (Lil' biatch)\nYou lil' stupid ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' wit'chu (Uh-uh)\nYou lil', you lil' dumb ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' wit'chu\nI got a million trillion things I'd rather fuckin' do\nThan to be fuckin' with you, lil' stupid ass\n\nI don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck, I don't, I don't\nI don't give a fuck, bitch, I don't give a\nFuck about you, or anything that you do\nDon't give a fuck about you, or anything that you do (You)\nI don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck, I don't, I don't\nI don't give a fuck, bitch, I don't give a\nFuck about you, or anything that you do\nDon't give a fuck about you, or anything that you do\nI got a new chick that I gotta thank God for (God)\nI got a new whip that I gotta thank the lot for (Swerve, swerve, swerve)\nYeah, I got a lot, but want a lot more\nYeah, we in the buildin', but I'm tryna take it to the top floor (Floor)\nI swear I hear some new bullshit every day I'm wakin' up (Uh)\nIt seem like nowadays everybody breakin' up (Uh)\nThat shit can break ya down, if you lose a good girl\nI guess you need a bad bitch to come around and make it up (Yup)\nI guess drama makes for the best content\nEverything got a bad side, even a conscience\nNow you're drinkin' 'til you're unconscious (Woah,) feel me\nWhen you get a fine bitch, just don't forget to read the fine print\nLife got me meditatin' like I'm in the Himalayas\nKeep it G with the L lit on me like the elevator\nYeah, I know that karma too real, so I hope you doin' cool\nBut still\u2014\nStupid ass bitch, I ain't fuckin' wit'chu\nNo, no, no, no\nLittle stupid ass, I ain't fuckin' wit' (Woah)\nI ain't fuckin', I ain't, I ain't fuckin' wit'chu (Woah)\nI ain't fuckin' wit'chu, ha\nStraight up, yeah, yeah\nWoah\n2.7KEmbed"}
{"text":"Look\nI feel blessed\nWay up, I feel blessed\nWay up, I feel blessed\n(Straight... up)\nI live the life I deserve, blessed\nFuck a vacay, I feel better at work\nI mean, whatever it's worth, I give whatever I'm worth\nFor my niggas who gon' go to Hell and back for me\nI'ma give 'em Heaven on Earth\nOr a hell of a check, yeah, whichever come first\nBlessings on blessings on blessings\nLook at my life, man, that's lessons on lessons on lessons\nI treat the beat like it's a reverend\nI tell the truth like father, forgive me, these are all my confessions\nMan, this wasn't luck, it was destined\nI done lost homies who been with me since Ed, Edd n Eddy\nWho flip like confetti\nAnd then when you back, they back to call you \"dog\"\nThat shit get-get petty\nBitch, don't give no dap to me, nigga\nFunny thing about talking behind my back\nIs that it just keep coming back to me, nigga\nWas off for a sec, now it's back to me, nigga, you mad at me\nThis ain't what I want, man, this what it had to be\nThis is that late night working after three, man\nThis is why my old girl was mad at me\nThis why I'm your majesty, man\nThe clique is the tightest, the pussy the tightest\nThe drinks are the coldest, the future the brightest\nThe feat not divided, the love is divided\nAnd I just gotta thank God that we got it\nBlessed\nI don't know what I would do without it\nCrew look like we robbed a bank, but all we make is deposits\nYour prophet will profit, oh God\nYou might also like\nI'm here for a good time, not a long time, you know I\nI haven't had a good time in a long time, you know I\nI'm way up, I feel blessed\nWay up, I feel blessed (Straight up)\nI'm way up, I feel blessed (Straight up, straight up)\nWay up, I feel blessed\n\nLook, I ain't gon' say that we back or nothing\n\u2018Cause that implies that we're back from something\nIf we're back from somethin' there's some checks you owe us\nI expect that payment, nothing less or over\nI don't need them favors that you ask me for\nI could give two fucks 'bout where the Grammys go\nI just gave out Grammys on my Instagram\nThem OVO boys, the business man\nIt is what it is, trust me, you get what you give, yeah\nYou gotta come to my side and see how we live, yeah\nI cannot see Heaven being much better than this, yeah\nBlessings on blessings for me and my niggas from the 6\nLook at what we did, yeah\nBe quiet, I'm doing a toast\nFor niggas that don't really do shit, I swear, y'all be doing the most\nStop worrying 'bout whoever's next\nI am just worried 'bout my mama worrying less\nI think I'm famous enough\nI don't need any more press\nI am convinced I'm the only one left that's still doing this shit, man\nI'm here for a good time, not a long time, you know I\nI haven't had a good time in a long time, you know I\nI'm way up, I feel blessed\nWay up, I feel blessed (Straight up)\nI'm way up, I feel blessed (Straight up, straight up)\nWay up, I feel blessed\n\nMy grandma just died, I'm the man of the house\nSo every morning I'm up \u2018cause I can't let them down, down\nAlways down for the cause, never down for the count\nI guess when your stars align\nYou do like the solar system and plan it out\nSo I'm going over time, on the overtime\nYeah, I'm that invested, but you can't attest it\nMillion dollar goals, managed to manifest it\nThe family never going anorexic\nI pay my own mortgage and electric\nNever going under even with anesthetics\nAt the top of the rap game and progressin'\nCheck after check, checking off my check list\nTry and blow my cake, just know that's a death wish\nNo mistakes in life ever, it's only lessons\nShit feel like Shaq and Penny got back together\nYou tore the game apart, who put it back together? I\nI'm here for a good time, not a long time, you know I\nI haven't had a good time in a long time, you know I\nI'm way up, I feel blessed\nWay up, I feel blessed (Straight up)\nI'm way up, I feel blessed (Straight up, straight up)\nI'm way up, I feel blessed\nSince the truth keep niggas traumatized\nThey tryna compromise my condom size\nSo I Snapchat that whole shit\nTryna see titties, tryna show dick\nAnd I swear to God, I hope they post it, I'm blessed\nEven though I get slammed with lawsuits like car doors\nSee three P.O.'s like Star Wars\nThey want me by the road holding up cardboard\nSo I go extra hard on the hard floor\nRight now, I'm calling you from my home gym\nRight after that, nigga, I'm gon' swim\nJust did a couple laps in my home pool\nAnd my daughter right there getting home-schooled, I'm blessed\nAnd I was thinking 'bout starting up my own school, a Montessori\nAnd the hallway looking like a monastery, oh, yes\nI'm way up, I feel blessed1.4KEmbed"}
{"text":"Hitmaka\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you\n\nLast night took a L, but tonight I bounce back\nWake up every morning, by the night, I count stacks\nKnew that ass was real when I hit, it bounce back\n(You ain\u2019t getting checks)\nLast night took a L, but tonight I bounce back\nBoy, I been broke as hell, cashed a check and bounced back\nD town LAX, every week I bounce back\nIf you a real one, then you know how to bounce back\n\nDon\u2019t owe nobody, owe nobody\nAlways on the fuckin' job, I got no hobbies\nGot the city fuckin' with me 'cause I'm homegrown\nVibin' out more than my phone though\nLeave me \u2018lone, me on my own though\nLook, I cut that bitch off like a edit\nMy daddy a G, it's genetics (Straight up)\nI heard ya new shit, it's pathetic\nYa contract should be shredded\nTook my dogs on a private jet from the public housing\nI kept it G, yeah, one thousand\nClique star-studded like the Paramount mountain\nEverything I do is righteous\nBetting on me is the right risk\nEven in a fucking crisis\nI\u2019m never on some switching sides shit\nI switch gears to the night shift\nBlacking out 'cause I\u2019m enlightened\nGod talk to me in silence\nBut I hear him every time, mane\n(Thank you, God, God bless you, thank you so much)\nYou might also like\nLast night took a L, but tonight I bounce back\nWake up every morning, by the night, I count stacks\nKnew that ass was real when I hit, it bounce back\n(You ain\u2019t getting checks)\nLast night took a L, but tonight I bounce back\nBoy, I been broke as hell, cashed a check and bounced back\nD town LAX, every week I bounce back\nIf you a real one, then you know how to bounce back\n\nLook, I woke up in beast mode\nWith my girl, that's beauty and the beast though\nBeen top 5, these niggas sleep though\nOnly thing that sold out is the seats though\n(Never sold my soul, never will never have)\nNigga how dare you stand before me and not respect my authority\nIf you fuck with my glory, I'ma drop the L and get gory\nI done did everything except worry\nHella drama, my life story\nFaith of a mustard seed, I kept growing\nI knew that this life was meant for me\nNiggas change up more than wishin' wells\nKarma come around I'll wish 'em well\nLivin' like I\u2019m on a limitless pill\nI kill the scene like I\u2019m Denzel\nCrazy like my jacket strapped up\nNigga, I don\u2019t act but I'll act up\nBrown paper bag like the lunch packed up\nBack, back, back, back up\nNigga, I'ma need like 10 feet\nOr get stomped out with ten feet\nI'ma always lose my temper\nYou cannot \u201ccount to ten\u201d me\nIf I lose 1, I bounce back like 2, 3 did with 4, 5\nSeen courtrooms and court sides, ain\u2019t too many seen both sides\nNigga, fuck what you know\nNigga, I\u2019m takin' back control\nThe underdog just turned into the wolf and the hunger steady grows\nYeah, I call shots while you call off\nNever takin' summer or fall off\nWhen you stay that committed to it, you just fall down and never fall off, so\nLast night took a L, but tonight I bounce back\nWake up every morning, by the night, I count stacks\nKnew that ass was real when I hit, it bounce back\n(You ain\u2019t getting checks)\nLast night took a L, but tonight I bounce back\nBoy, I been broke as hell, cashed a check and bounced back\nD town LAX, every week I bounce back\nIf you a real one, then you know how to bounce back\n\nBounce back, bounce, bounce\nBounce back, bounce, bounce\nBounce, bounce, bitch, bounce (Yeah)\nIs you a real one?\nIs you a real one?\nReal one\nReal one\nIs you a real one?\nReal one\nReal one\nDon"}
{"text":"When you said it was over, you shot right through my heart\nWhy you let these hoes tear what we had right apart?\nOoh, I was so mad, I should've seen this coming right from the start\nYou should beware, beware, beware of a woman with a broken heart\n\nYeah, praying to a sky all black\nLooking at the stars like they finna talk back\nLooking at my phone like she finna call back\nBut last night I feel like probably ended all that\n'Cause by now, she woulda sent a text in all caps\nThen another one tryna take it all back\nSaying \"Fuck you,\" \"I miss you,\" or \"I hate you so much\"\n'Cause girls only say \"hate you\" to the guys that they love\nI know, I know, I know\nThe highs, the lows it comes, it goes\nYou say \"Be real,\" I try, I don't\n'Cause you take anything and just make it everything (God)\nKept my phone on silent ever since you got a ring, funny, right?\nAnd I never cheated; I mean, maybe once or twice\nBut one time don't change everything\nShe ask why I don't feel the same, I'm still the same\nShe's still insane and now she's saying\n\nWhen you said it was over, you shot right through my heart\nWhy you let these hoes tear what we had right apart?\nOoh, I was so mad, I should've seen this coming right from the start\nYou should beware, beware, beware of a woman with a broken heart\nYou might also like\nOkay, skeet, smoke, sleep, call, miss, text, woke, spoke\nLie, feel, Lisa, ew, time, kill, months, still\n\nI got somebody baby mama calling me daddy (Yup)\nI drank too much, please call me a cabby (Swerve)\nPenthouse afterparty, hoes want the addy (Swerve)\nFuck, they can ride with us, crawl in the Caddy\nThird row, that's when you call, I hit cancel\nReally, I hit answer, fuck, I hate when that happens\nPhone in my pocket for the whole night\nAnd you heard bitches screaming 'til my phone died\nThen she text me like, \"Why you still talk to my mama?\nHow the fuck you run around with condoms?\nWhy you make me get this tattoo? Man, fuck this tattoo\nYou the reason I wasn't single in college\nWhat, all because I had you?\nNigga, I don't even have you\nHow I'm supposed to get past you?\"\nThen she called the next guy, spillin' some real shit\nNow they problems that he got to deal with\n\nWhen you said it was over, you shot right through my heart\nWhy you let these hoes tear what we had right apart?\nOoh, I was so mad, I should've seen this coming right from the start\nYou should beware, beware, beware of a woman with a broken heart\nGirl, don't believe them hoes\n'Cause they don't wanna see us together\nAnd you already know you're too fly\nBut baby, don't get your hair caught in the propellers\nI be tryna tell her these hoes is jealous\nYou know they never like it when you never say never\nLong hair, red bone, but her pussy is hairless\nMwah, I french kiss it like we in Paris\nI be screaming out, \"Ain't no woman like the one I got!\"\nBut she be always worrying about the one I fucked\nShe said it's gonna be me, myself and I\nDamn, that'd make me a one-eyed fuck\nI was so mad\nDamn, you used to ride a nigga like a moped\nBut players fuck up, my bad\nAnd just to keep from crying, I laughed\n\nWhen you said it was over, you shot right through my heart (Tunechi)\nWhy you let these hoes tear what we had right apart\nOoh, I was so mad, I should've seen this coming right from the start (Damn)\nYou should beware, beware, beware of a woman with a broken heart\n\nBaby, last time calling me baby\nLast time calling me crazy, crazy, crazy\nBaby, last time calling me baby\nLast time calling me crazy, crazy, crazy"}
{"text":"Ass ass ass ass ass\nAss ass ass ass ass ass ass ass\nAss ass ass ass ass ass ass ass\nStop! Now make that motherfucker hammer time like\nGo stupid, go stupid, go stupid\n\nWobble-dy wobble-dy wa wobble wobble\nI\u2019m st-stacking my paper my wallet look like a bible\nI got girlies half naked that shit look like the grotto\nHow your waist anorexic and then your ass is colossal\nDrop that ass make it boomerang\nTake my belt off, bitch I\u2019m Pootie Tang\nTippy tow tippy tay you gon' get a tip today\nFuck that you gonna get some dick today\nI walk in with my crew and I\u2019m breaking they necks\nI\u2019m looking all good I\u2019m making her wet\nThey pay me respect they pay me in checks\nAnd if she look good she pay me in sex (do it)\nBounce that ass (ass) it\u2019s the roundest\nYou the best, you deserve a crown bitch, right on that ass\n\nAss ass ass ass ass\nAss ass ass ass ass ass ass ass\nAss ass ass ass ass ass ass ass\nStop! Now make that motherfucker hammer time like\nGo stupid, go stupid, go stupid\nYou might also like\nWobbledy wobble, wo-wo-wobble, wobbin\u2019\nAss so fat, all these bitches\u2019 pussies is throbbin\u2019\nBad bitches, I\u2019m your leader, Phantom by the meter\nSomebody point me to the best ass eater\nTell 'em \"Pussy clean\" I tell them \"Pussy squeaky\"\nNiggas give me brain \u2019cause all of them niggas geeky\nIf he got a Mandingo, then I buy him a dashiki\nAnd bust this pussy open in the islands of Waikiki\nKiss my ass and my anus, \u2019cause it\u2019s finally famous\nAnd it\u2019s finally soft, yeah, it\u2019s finally solved\nI don\u2019t know, man, guess them ass shots wore off\nBitches ain\u2019t poppin\u2019, Google, my ass\nOnly time you on the net is when you Google my ass\nY-y-you fuckin\u2019 little whores, fu-fuckin\u2019 up my decors\nCouldn\u2019t get Michael Kors if you was fuckin\u2019 Michael Kors\nB-B-Big Sean, b-boy, how big is you\nGive me all your money and give me all your residuals\nThen slap it on my ass, ass, ass\n\nAss ass ass ass ass\nAss ass ass ass ass ass ass ass\nAss ass ass ass ass ass ass ass\nStop! Now make that motherfucker hammer time like\nGo stupid, go stupid, go stupid\nH-h-h-h-h-hammer time\nWoah, white girls, black girls, tall girls, fat girls\nShake that ass shake that ass, shake that ass\nShake that ass, shake that ass, shake that ass\nGo, go\nShort girls, small girls, skinny girls, all girls\nShake that ass shake that ass, shake that ass\nShake that ass, shake that ass, shake that ass\nAnd I want all of that\n\nAss ass ass ass ass\nAss ass ass ass ass ass ass ass\nAss ass ass ass ass ass ass ass\nStop! Now make that motherfucker hammer time like\nGo stupid, go stupid, go stupid\nGo stupid!"}
{"text":"Make it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make it\nYou can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake it\nEverything lined up for the takin'\nAnd what I need from 'em? No favors\nClique too big, bread gotta break it\n'Cause these others lowkey with the snakin', fakin'\nEverything lined up for the takin'\nAnd what I need from 'em? No favors, no favors\nWhat I need? No favors\nEverything lined up for the takin'\nAnd what I need from 'em? No favors\n\nI'm about gettin' the job done, boy up every night\nI'm about rollin' a seven when I toss up the dice (Dice)\nI'm about gettin' my logo all flooded with ice\nI'm about takin' a risk that might fuck up your life\nTell 'em point and shoot like camera crews\nIn front of cameras too (Brrr!)\nDamn, Sean, what happened to the humble attitude?\nI'm like, \"Niggas took the flow, but I'm still standin' too.\"\nThought I had the Midas touch, and then I went platinum too\nMotherfuck all your comparisons (Fuck 'em!)\nI've been talkin' to God like that's my therapist\nI'm African-American in America, I ain't inherit shit\nBut a millionaire under 30 so He must be hearin' shit\nDon, don, don life, I do this for the crib, the D to Flint\nKids who get sick with lead, others get hit with the lead\nFrom where they need a handout, but they tell you put hands up\nOnly deals I had was from the Sam's Club\nNow it's blue blood in my veins, though you know what I came for\nBorn in a world goin' where they told me I can't go\nIn my lane though, I'm in the same boat as Usain Bolt\nGet ahead by any means so the head's what I aim for\nWhen my grandma died I realized I got an angel\nShow me everything's a blessing dependin' on the angles\nLook, I am the anomaly, never needed favors or apologies\nThat's my new lifetime policy\nWoodgrain steering wheel, this bitch feel like a pirate ship\nHow many hot verses 'til you bitches start acknowledgin'\nThe pictures we been paintin'? My nigga\nConnected to a higher power\u2014how I know?\n'Cause I don't write this shit: I think it, my nigga\nLook, all I ever did was beat the odds\n'Cause when you try to get even it just don't even out\nNever stoppin' like we hypnotized\nWatch what we visualize on the rise\nBe the G.O.A.T. while we alive; when we die, we gon' be the gods\nYou might also like\nMake it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make it\nYou can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake it\nEverything lined up for the takin'\nAnd what I need from 'em? No favors\nClique too big, bread gotta break it\n'Cause these others lowkey with the snakin', fakin'\nEverything lined up for the takin'\nAnd what I need from 'em? No favors, no favors\n\nIf she was flavor, I won't save her\nNo taste buds, ho, later!\nFuck you lookin' at, hater?\nI saw them eyes like an ass raper\nTry to copy my swag like a cheating classmate\nI'll be the last face you see 'fore you pass\nWhen you get your fuckin' ass graded like a math paper\nSo ahead of my time, \"late\" means I'm early\nMy age is reversing, I'm basically thirty\nAmazingly sturdy, zany and wordy\nBrainy and nerdy, blatantly dirty\nInsanely perverted, rapey and scurvy\nThey blame me for murdering Jamie Lee Curtis\nSaid I put her face in the furnace, beat her with a space heater\nA piece of furniture, egg beater, thermos\nIt may be disturbing, what I'm saying's cringeworthy\nBut I'm urinating on Fergie, call Shady number 81\nSurely I'm turning into the Aaron Hernandez of rap\nState of emergency, the planet's having panic attacks\nBrady's returning, matter of fact I may be deserving\nOf a pat on the back like a Patriots jersey\nInexplicable stomach growl from the pit of it\nLike a fuckin' Terrier hid in it\nDespicable, dumb it down, ridiculous\nTongue is foul, shoot off at the fuckin' mouth\nLike a missile, a thunder cloud\nHundred pound pistol, pull the trigger, this gun will sound\nAnd you'll get a round like Digital Underground\nAnd fuck Ann Coulter with a Klan poster\nWith a lamp post, door handle, shutter\nA damn bolt cutter, a sandal, a can opener\nA candle, rubber, piano, a flannel, sucker\nSome hand soap, butter, a banjo and manhole cover\nHand over the mouth and nose smother\nTrample ran over the tramp with the Land Rover\nThe band, the Lambo, Hummer and Road Runner\nGo ham donut, or go Rambo, gut her, make an example of her\nThat's for Sandra Bland, ho, and Philando\nHannibal on the lam, no wonder I am so stubborn\nI'm anti, can't no government handle a commando\nYour man don't want it\nTrump's a bitch, I'll make his whole brand go under (Yeah)\nAnd tell Dre I'm meeting him in L.A\nWhite Bronco like Elway, speeding\nI'm 'bout to run over a chick, Del Rey CD in?\nFemales stay beating 'em\nBet you they'll lay bleeding, and yell, \"wait,\" pleading\nBut screaming is pointless like feeding Michel'le helium\nLeaving 'em pale-faced, medium-sized welt\nStraight treating 'em like a cellmate\nSeedy, I'm climbing hell's gate\nBitch, I'm like your problems: self-made\nMeaning someone else's help ain't needed, 'cause I'ma\u2014\nMake it, make it, make it, boy, we gotta make it\nYou can save your hand, I ain't gotta shake it\nEverything lined up for the takin'\nAnd what I need from 'em? No favors\nClique too big, bread gotta break it\n'Cause these others lowkey with the snakin', fakin'\nEverything lined up for the takin'\nAnd what I need from 'em? No favors, no favors\nWhat I need? No favors\nEverything lined up for the takin'\nAnd what I need from 'em? No favors\n\n(I know you feeling yourself right now)\n(But I'm not sure she's the one\u2014I wouldn't call her, man)\n\"Hey, I'm outside\"\nWhat are you doing here?"}
{"text":"\nMustard on the beat, ho\n\nI know you've been goin' through some things, uh-huh\nI know you don't even love the same, do you, do you?\nI know you've been runnin' on empty, runnin' on empty\nThe way you move it's like you could use a vacation\nDrink in your hand and the harder you dance\nI swear right now it look like you on a vacation\nGotta get away, make it happen\nWhatever happened just had to happen\nOn vacation, yeah\nI know you've been, I know you've been\n\nDancin', dancin', dancin' like you fucking got a reason\nDancing like it's something to believe in\nDancing like it's fuckin' dancing season\nBlame it on the alcohol or blame it on sativa\nThe harder your heart keep beating\nOnly feel bad while you're thinkin'\nPop, pop, pop like Pepsi Co. the best we smoke\nPlus the tan look like you flew in from Mexico\nGo go, let me see how wild it get, bust it wide as it get\nYou need to be taken care of and pampered\nBut just like a pamper, he on that childish shit\nYeah, I know you've been silencing your phone\n(Silencing your phone, ignoring calls from home)\nUh-huh, I know you've been tryna get along\nWhat's up, it's on, no games, we grown\nI know you feel like sometimes\nThat y'all don't speak the same language\nUh-huh, I know that you just wanna let it go\nWith all the bitches that you came with\nYou might also like\nI know you've been going through some thangs\nWanna get away, baby, let me be your vacation\nThat other trick you've been fuckin' with is a trip\nYou know she be playin', baby I am just saying\nI know you know I am down for whatever, yeah\nYou know I'm just here to make you feel better, yeah\nTake a load off on my private island\nCome inside and go into hiding\nI know that you've been sacrificing your time\nAnd need time to unwind and let go\nSo let go and let's go and let's roll and we roll\n\nExcited, activated get ignited\nSo many charges on my card, oh God I think it got indicted\nGet a, get a night, get a day, get a room, get a place\nGet a drink, pop a bottle, maybe we can get away\nYou a star, you need space, we can shoot up out of town\nHave you ever been to Texas? South By Southwestern\nWhere we can smoke a zip like we can't get arrested\nWhere they might know us off any intersection\nI mean baby I know you've been, wanna be the baddest\nWanna be with somebody who ain't never had it\nNo status, just all cinematics, you just gotta cast it\nI know you've been crying and poutin'\nKnow you're tired of arguing but no screaming and shouting\nAnd you know we on a roll like we did good in college\nThrowin' hundreds and thousands\nLike they not hundreds and thousands\n\nWhy? Cause I know you've been going through some things\nI know you've been going through some things you can't explain\nWith your main thing that shit insane\nI know you just tryna maintain, that shit is lame, you can't complain\nI know you don't even love the same, do you, do you?\nDon't love the same, I know you've been diving through pain\nI know you goin' so crazy, I know you runnin' on empty\nThat shit can fuck with your mente\nI know this shit, don't you tempt me, I know you...\nI know you've been runnin' on empty, runnin' on empty\nThe way you move it's like you could use a vacation\nI know you, I know you\nDrink in your hand and the harder you dance\nI swear right now it look like you want a vacation\nGotta get away, make it happen\nWhatever happened just had to happen\nOn vacation, yeah\nI know you've been, I know you've been\nI know it look like like you need a vacation\nHow 'bout Hawaii, maybe Jamaica, maybe Asia\nTake you places other niggas can't take ya\nDon't forget the makeup, yeah"}
{"text":"\nThey used to tell me, used to tell me\n\nI hope you learn to make it on your own\nAnd if you love yourself, just know you'll never be alone\nI hope that you get everything you want and that you chose\nI hope that it's the realest thing that you ever know\nHope you get the pretty girls that's pretty at everything\nMillion-dollar cribs, havin' million dollar dreams\nAnd when you get it all, just remember one thing\nRemember one thing, that one man could change the world\nThat one man could change the world\n\nAll I, all I wanted was a hundred million dollars and a bad chick\nImagined this so much, some nights it felt like that I had it\nBack on the mattress, starin' at the ceilin' tryna connect the dots\nBut it's hard makin' those attachments\nI'm talkin' dreamin' so hard, some nights it felt like draft day\nYou know? My - my stepbrother used to flip them bags\nOutside the crib like it was trash day\nNo Kim K, but he bagged yay (Ye)\nBut when you're gettin' fast money, slow down, don't crash\nWith all the drive in the world, swear you still need gas\nLook, think about it, close your eyes, dream about it\nTell your team about it, go make million-dollar schemes about it\nSuccess is on the way, I feel it in the distance\nUsed to look up at the stars\nAnd be like, \"Ain't too much that's different\"\nI be shinin', they be shinin', get your one shot, don't you miss it\nWhat you know bout' wakin' up every day like you on a mission?\nYou might also like\nAnd I hope you learn to make it on your own\nAnd if you love yourself, just know you'll never be alone\nI hope that you get everything you want and that you chose\nI hope that it's the realest thing that you ever know\nHope you get the pretty girls, that's pretty and everything\nMillion-dollar cribs, havin' million dollar dreams\nAnd when you get it all, just remember one thing\nRemember one thing, one man could change the world\nOne man could change the world\n\nMy grandma told me, \"If you write your name in stone\nYou'll never get the white-out\"\nI grinded out that black hole then performed up at the White House\nStandin' next to Jim Carrey, we traded stories, then laughed\nI said you not the only one I know got rich wearin' masks\nWhere I'm from, I swear they broke\nThey need way more than the cast\nWe need more than what you have\nAnd then we need more than that\nBut how am I supposed to say I'm tired\nIf that girl from West Virginia came up in conditions\nThat I couldn't survive?\nWent to war, came back alive\nOn top of that became a female black captain\nWhen being black, you had to extra-extra try\nWay before James Brown made us proud\nShe bought a crib on the same street as Marvin Gaye\nRight there on Outer Drive, and she taught me how to drive\nAnd she raised the kids, then the kids' kids, and she did it right\nTaught me how to love, taught me not to cry\nWhen I die, I hope you teach me how to fly\nAll my life you've been that angel in disguise, sayin'...\nI hope you learn to make it on your own\nAnd if you love yourself, just know you'll never be alone\nI hope that you get everything you want and that you chose\nI hope that it's the realest thing that you ever know\nHope you get the pretty girls, that's pretty and everything\nMillion-dollar cribs, havin' million dollar dreams\nAnd when you get it all, just remember one thing\nRemember one thing, that one man can change the world\nThat one man can change the world\n\nThank you for callin' me, been thinkin' about you\nIt's all good, I love you grandma\nBye"}
{"text":"God, oh, God\nBoi, boi\nI've been workin' all god damn year, I just got my check\nI'm 'bout to spend it all on me, I'm worth it, yeah\n\nHol' up, hol' up, tell me what you see (What you see)\nPull up (Swerve), watch these mothafuckas freak (Watch 'em freak)\nS-say what up though when you see me in the streets\nG.O.O.D. Music in this bitch, now drop that mothafuckin' beat, woah\nOkay, this to all of my enemies that see me gettin' guap right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, see me gettin' guap right now (Yeah)\nThis to all of my hatin' hoes that see me gettin' guap right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell yeah, I won't stop right now (Haan?)\nThis to all my old hoes that see me gettin' guap right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell yeah, I won't stop right now (Yeah)\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell nah, I won't stop right now (Big Sean)\nHell nah, I won't stop right now, see me gettin' guap right now\n\nOkay, I need 50k large (Right now)\nMy mama need a new crib (Right now)\nMy daddy need a new car (Right now)\nSo I be goin' so hard (Right now)\nDetroit is my yard (Right now)\nI need a 17 car garage (Right now)\nI need a 17 broad menage (Right now)\nI need a jail house to free my dogs (Right now)\nI done paid taxes, paid dues, paid bills my whole life\nSo I'ma throw money in the air, like I'm tryin' to pay the sky\nTold myself that man if I can't live like this, I'd rather die\nI give it up to God, and he always replies:\n\"Control yo' hoes, you let her talk 'til you crazy\nYou got baby mama drama, you ain't even got you no baby!\nYou fugazi, b-boss up, boss up with your time dog\nYou ain't got time for no hoes, I ain't even got time for no time off!\"\nI'm on\nYou might also like\nOkay, this to all of my enemies that see me gettin' guap right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, see me gettin' guap right now\nThis to all of my hatin' hoes that see me gettin' guap right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell yeah, I won't stop right now\nThis to all my old hoes that see me gettin' guap right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell yeah, I won't stop right now (Oh God)\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell nah, I won't stop right now (Oh God, boi, boi, boi)\nHell nah, I won't stop right now, see me gettin' guap right now\n\nOkay, I need 50k large (Right now)\nMy homie just beat the charge (Right now)\nMy brother need a new job (Right now)\nSo I be goin' so hard (Right now)\nI need my face on a black card (Right now)\nMy iPhone need a charge (Right now)\nMy fish tank need sharks (right now)\nI need a blimp to say the worlds ours (Right now)\nSo these niggas can know I do what they can't\nI'm stuntin' for all the people who ain't\nYou still hatin'? You should be fuckin' ashamed\nFar as I came, guess when you're running the game they want you to sprain\nYeah, I know, I know, but I don't get my stress on\nTakin' shots, swear it's like my stomachs made of Teflon\nThey like, \"Boy, won't you get your rest on?\"\nBitch, cause I'm up for every hour I was slept on\nAnd last night I dreamed about two girls, bisexual\nThey was tryin' things, trisexual\nThen I woke up in a city where the population match the death toll\nDrew my blueprint, got it illustrated, F.F. affiliated\nMillions chasin' go to sleep wake up continuated\nLife of a Don, Chandon sippin', never had a palm readin'\nAlways had my palms itchin' time to get it\nBoy, I was taught to get it 'til it's gone\nEven when I got it, watch me get it like I don't\nHol' up, hol' up, tell me what you see (What you see)\nPull up (Swerve), watch these mothafuckas freak (Watch 'em freak)\nS-say what up though when you see me in the streets\nG.O.O.D. Music in this bitch, now drop that mothafuckin' beat, woah\nOkay, this to all of my enemies that see me gettin' guap right now (D-Town)\nSee me gettin' guap right now, see me gettin' guap right now\nThis to all of my hatin' hoes that see me gettin' guap right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell yeah, I won't stop right now\nThis to all my old hoes that see me gettin' guap right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell yeah, I won't stop right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell nah, I won't stop right now\nHell nah, I won't stop right now, see me gettin' guap right now\n\nRight now, woah\nRight now, woah\nRight now, woah\nRight now, woah\nRight now, woah\nRight now, woah, woah\nFour, three, two, one\nThis to all my enemies that see me gettin' guap right now\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell yeah, won't stop right now\nFour, three, two, one\nSee me gettin' guap right now, hell nah, won't stop right now\nHell nah, won't stop right now, see me gettin' guap right now\nFour, three, two, one"}
{"text":"Yeah\nEar Drummers, yeah, yeah\nUh-huh\nMike WiLL\u2014Mike WiLL\n\nI always wanted to stunt so hard (Yeah,) I always wanted to ride that whip (Always)\nI always wanted to fuck that bitch (I always,) thank you, God, I fucked that bitch (God)\nI always wanted to live this life (Life,) I always wanted to wear that ice (All this ice)\nI always wanted paradise, I always wanted paradise, look\n\nNow it don't take a lot to make you rich (To make you rich)\nI'm addicted to a lot of crazy shit (I'm addicted to a lot of crazy shit)\nBut I feel like money is the best drug (Best drug)\nSometimes hate can be the best love\n\nWalkin' in like I got cameras on me, niggas can't control me, ain't no handles on me\nShit don't get out of hand, it get handled, homie, got a pretty young girl, look like Janet on me (Word)\nShe a pretty penny and she know I'm doing numbers \u2018til we crash up the whole database (Word)\nI bring it home like I'm base to base to base (Yeah,) closet lookin' like Planet of the Bathing Apes (Yeah)\nWhat you think this life just landed on me? My whole city look like it's abandoned, homie\nAnd we came straight out of those abandoned homes (Yeah,) every wish we ever had got granted, homie\nAnd I'll never take that shit for granted even when the marble floor and counter top is all granite\nBack before I got paid any advances, back when my rollie was ticking, no dancing\nNigga, never did I slip or I panic, even if I was the captain of Titanic\nRiding through the north Atlantic, homie, I never jumped crew or abandoned, homie\nAll the fruits of my labor organic, homie, making sure my family tree got hammocks on it\nAnd a good guy can change, 'specially if he short-changed, so fuck is my ransom, homie?\nYou might also like\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag (Yeah)\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag (Yeah, yeah)\n\nI always wanted to stunt so hard (Yeah,) I always wanted to ride that whip (Always)\nI always wanted to fuck that bitch (I always,) thank you, God, I fucked that bitch (God)\nI always wanted to live this life (Life,) I always wanted to wear that ice (All this ice)\nI always wanted paradise, I always wanted paradise (Always wanted paradise)\n\n(Uh-huh) Straight up\nFinally Famous, nigga (Yeah)\nEar Drummers\nOh damn, damn\nMike WiLL\u2014Mike WiLL\n\nAw damn, I'm illuminated, man, I knew I\u2019d make it and I get that shit accumulatin\u2019 (Accumulatin\u2019)\nNever throwing money out, I boomerang it, finally famous over everything, that's a numerator, weed lit, yeah, it's luminated\nRoom lookin' like it's fumigated, bitch, my crew invaded, when I walk in, man, they body to body\nHol' up everybody, don't worry, man, I got it, I got it, I need a hundred dollar bill, photocopy the email and copy\nMan, I'm going hard all season, these hoes goin' both ways, offense, defense\nLivin' life on the deep end, F-F allegiance, beat the odds and got even\nWhat you think, that we just started, nigga? Boy, the sword just got sharpened, nigga\nThis ain't war, we just sparring, nigga, I was on the rooftop with my nigga Mike Carson, nigga\nShootin' that \"Too Fake\" video, my nigga, we all in, we set ourselves apart from all our apartments\nWas up in Florida, no Marlins, nigga, I'm that Sean, no Marlon, nigga, uh\nLook at my girl nigga, fuck yo' bae list, fuck yo' night list, fuck yo' day list, fuck yo' playlist\nI'm from the D, fuck your A-list, I been working eight days a week, I don't even know what the fuck today is\nI hit the booth and I just went Super Saiyan, I run with the purp like I play with the Ravens\nThese bitches rant and rave, I hope I never have to go back watching Everybody Loves Raymond\nEating ramen, nigga, this paradise, life's a fucking paradox and pair of dice\nIf they not rolling with you, then they parasites, nigga, I had that vision, it was ClearSight, nigga, Sean Don"}
{"text":"\nYeah, and we G.O.O.D\nKeep talkin' about this shit but whatever\nWe can go back and forth all day\n(How much I feel, I live for your love)\nLit for your love baby, lit for your love\n(Live for your love)\nLit for your love baby, lit for your love\n(Live for your love)\nLit for your love baby, lit for your love\n(Live for your love)\nLit for your love baby (Straight up!)\n\nThat's that don't play! Whuh! That's that new Ye\nPeople sayin' I'm the closest thing to Mike since Janet, whuh!\nTom Cruise, homie, we jumpin' up on them couches\nThat's a fresh house, is that a guest house?\nYour house got another house?\nYour bitch got a bitch, your spouse got another spouse\nYoung Walt Disney, I'ma tell you truthfully\nIf you leave Mickey you gon' end up with a Goofy\nI imagine that's what Chris told Karrueche\nGirls be actin' like it's diamonds in they coochie\nI don't give a fuck, I don't give a fuck\nBut cops chokin' niggas out in the media\nWe finna have to protest and tear the city up\nWe 'bout to tear this whole place up, pretty much\n(How much I live)\nYou might also like\nAnd you know it's all your fault\nNobody, nobody, nobody, babe\nYou know it's all your fault\nNobody, nobody, nobody, but me\n\nLit for your love baby, lit for your love\nLit for your love baby, lit for your love\nLit for your love baby, lit for your love\nLit for your love baby (Straight up!)\n\nHoe, we done made it through hell and disaster\nMy crib done got bigger, my women got badder\nYou wonderin', \"How do you get in the game?\"\nI'm wonderin', \"How do I get to the rafters?\"\nOh boy, I'm mad until these records gettin' shattered\n'Til I'm MJ or Magic, ooh, and she just want the status\nSo, you the man she got, but I'm the man that she been after\nShe done sent so many naked pics, my phone ain't got no data\nI walk off in New York like my name Derek Jeter\nHeaded home to the D where you know I keep a Gina (Gina!)\nI'm the good with the evil; fuck you, nice to meet you\nYou can't have a peace sign, man, without the middle finger\nWith the clique when you see us, that's my family to me\nThat's my family tree, they're my arms, legs, hands, and my feet\nAnd I can't cut them off with even diabetes\nHit the beat and kerosene it; scratch that, I white sheet it\nA 100 dollar fade every single time you see us\nBeen a king all my life so I shoulda got a Caesar\nSomewhere off in Vegas rollin' dice up at the Caesar's\nGot me thinkin' back bout how I used to roll to Little Caesars\nPiece of pizza with Tanisha now I'm with a Boniqua\nShe finna blow at that\nI got your dream girl, yeah, she actin' like a hoe at that\nThrow her to me, I'ma throw that back\nTop spot, I'm finna go at that (Straight up)\n(I live for your love)\nLit for your love baby, lit for your love\n(Live for your love)\nLit for your love baby, lit for your love\n(Live for your love)\nLit for your love baby, lit for your love\n(Live for your love)\nLit for your love baby (Straight up!)\n\nHoe, you gotta move quick\nWorld in my hands, I ain't gotta loose grip\nI don't like loose pussy or loose lips\nAnd I done did the impossible a few times, Tom Cruise shit\nHoe, and I ain't satisfied bein' on that top five list\nI ain't satisfied until I'm on that all-time list\nTil everything I spit is all timeless\nMy girl on that all fine list\nMy life a little luck, a lot of grind, bitch!\nNo \"maybe,\" hoe, I gotta make it\nFuck your nomination; man, fuck the world\nI'm repopulatin', wrap my Rollie round my waist\nYeah, time's a-wastin'\nNiggas want the comma-comma-combination\nLong as I'm around, it's gon' be dot-dot-dot, a lot of waitin'\nGot my pinky on her brain while I'm gettin' brain\nPlottin' world domination, people ask me how to make it\nI'm just like \"man, if you want the crown, bitch, you gotta take it\"\nStraight up (Straight up!)"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsPlay No Games Lyrics\nGirl, it's true\nYou do, you do, you do\nIt's true (Oh)\nIt's waitin' for you (Uh-huh)\nGirl, it's true\n\nOkay, I won't deny it\nHalf the time you send a text (Brr), yep, you know I'm not replyin'\nJust to let you know, I'm not one of them niggas you be dodgin'\nI'm the one that you dodge with (Swerve, swerve, swerve)\nI'm the one that you gon' take that dress you savin' out the closet (Woah)\nI'm the one you need alone\nI'm the one that when you 'round your friends that you gotta put on speakerphone\nJust so you can let them know what we be on, like he the one, yeah, yeah\nI know I'm young, but you respect me like a father figure\nYoung mobbish nigga, prolly make you father figures\nSean Don Perrier out in Paris with a pair of Yays goin'\nWell, I would tell you, but I gotta paraphrase\nAnd even when you trippin', we trippin', I pay for ya\nGourmet for ya, chauffeur arranged for ya\nI'll take that flight alone earlier in the day for ya\nJust to beat you there and prepare, let you know I'm waitin' for ya\nFinally Famous\nYou might also like\nI ain't like them other niggas (Other niggas)\nAnd I ain't 'bout to play no games with you (Play no games)\nYou know what your problem is? (Oh)\nYou don't ever see the big picture\nOh-wee, I want you to take me serious\nOh, baby, I want you to take me serious\nAw, yeah, yeah (Waitin' for you)\n\nWait, wait, waitin' for ya\nI be wait, wait, waitin' for ya (Girl, it's true)\nYou got a young boss nigga like me waitin' for ya\nYou got that bomb ass, pussy, I'll be waitin' for ya (Yeah)\nWho ya love? (Tell me)\nTell me who you fuckin' love (Tell me)\nTell me who you wanna fuck and love\nI left that sexy dress out on the bed with a note there layin' for ya\nWith directions where I'm waitin' with dinner and waiter for ya (For ya)\nI'm that nigga (Nigga), she tell me I'm that nigga\nI'm the nigga that's your nigga even when you got a nigga (Uh)\nThat you make love with, but right before, take drugs with\nThen right after, hit the tub, wait on me with suds\nThen you back that ass up on me like it's '99 (Woah)\nWine fine like a bottle from the '99 (Uh-huh)\nHit you with the ninety-nine like it's fuckin' primetime (Time)\nKilled the pussy, had to hit that shit like nine times (Woo)\nGirl, even when I'm gone, just know I'm there for ya (There for ya)\nI'm all ears, in other words here for ya (Here for ya)\nI'd probably rob a fuckin' bank and go to jail for ya (Uh-huh)\nAs long as I can smack that ass and pull that hair for ya\nFinally Famous (Famous)\nI ain't like them other niggas (Other niggas)\nAnd I ain't 'bout to play no games with you (Play no games)\nYou know what your problem is? (Oh)\nYou don't ever see the big picture\nOh-wee, I want you to take me serious\nOh, baby, I want you to take me serious\nAw, yeah, yeah (Waitin' for you)\nI've been waitin' on that ass all night though\nGirl, don't keep me waiting no more\nYeah, yeah\nIt's true\nGot some things I wanna do to you, baby, oh\nOoh, yeah\n\nI ain't like them other niggas (Other niggas)\nAnd I ain't 'bout to play no games with you (Play no games)\nYou know what your problem is? (Oh)\nYou don't ever see the big picture\nOh-wee, I want you to take me serious\nOh, baby, I want you to take me serious\nAw, yeah, yeah (Waitin' for you)"}
{"text":"Yeah\nSex game had her ass blowing me up (brrr)\nSex game had her ass texting me up\nYeah (808 Mafia!)\nWhoa\n\nI got the moves\nI got the moves\nI'm making moves\nYou gotta move (you gotta move)\nShe make that back move (damn)\nShe made her titties move (goddamn)\nI make the city move (like whoa)\nI make the city move\nI got the moves (I'm making-)\nI got the moves (I got the moves)\nI'm making moves (I'm making moves)\nYou gotta move (you gotta-)\nShe make that back move (damn)\nShe made her titties move (goddamn)\nI make the city move (l do)\nI make the city move (I do)\n\nLook, give me the ball and I won't have to pass it\nI ain't passing out until I'm asthma attacking\nI take a plan and then I back-to-back it\nHit after hit, check the batting average\nI take the work, flip it, acrobatic\nGot a little time and a lot of talent\nDo a little talking and a lot of action\nSeen the competition, hm, not a challenge\nI lean, I move, I walk through in this bitch\nPacked out, but I can count on my hands who I'ma talk to in this bitch\nGirls from law school in this bitch\nYeah, they paralegals\nBarely 21, that's very legal\nBut they doing shit that's probably barely legal, aw, man\nIt's that nigga that you probably least expected\nI just had a couple dots that need connecting\nNow your top five getting redirected\nFrom here on out, it'll be consecutive\nWe making moves like Tarantino, like J.J. Abrams\nMoving like Channing Tatum\nMoving like Jason Statham\nMotherfuck the whole industry\nHalf of these niggas my mini-me's\nI got this bitch going off more than breaking and entering\nYou hot for a minute, me\nI make the shit that last for infinity\nHop in the booth, man, that shit like a gym to me, don't test the agility\nSilly, silly, thinking that the negativity you talking could ever fuck up the tranquility, look\nOkay, okay, okay, I'm on Rodeo for the day\nIf you owe me then you better pay your layaway, away\nStay away, or your ass might get K.O., kay today\nMan, that \"pew! pew!\" hit your ass from like way, a-ways, away\nYou might also like\nI got the moves\nI got the moves (whoa)\nI'm making moves\nYou gotta move (you gotta move)\nShe make that back move (damn)\nShe made her titties move (goddamn)\nI make the city move (like whoa)\nI make the city move\nI got the moves (I'm making-)\nI got the moves (I got the moves)\nI'm making moves (I'm making moves)\nYou gotta move (you gotta-)\nShe make that back move (damn)\nShe made her titties move (goddamn)\nI make the city move (I do)\nI make the city move (yeah I do)\n\nLook, I'm a Don, I'm a Don, I'm a Don (Don)\nI gave my whole family jobs and I take care of my Mom\nMe and my girl been through so much, that's my partner in crime  (808 Mafia!)\nTouch any of the above, now you harder to find\nGone"}
{"text":"Brrrt!\nI look up, so many (On my don shit)\nSo, so many\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you\n\nI done made sacrifices (I, I)\nSo many sacrifices (Straight, straight up)\nI done gave up so much free time knowing time ain\u2019t free\nFuck it, I sacrificed it (Fuck it, I sacrificed it)\nMy girl show me love, she know I made sacrifices (I, I)\nAnd if it's real, real love then you make sacrifices (Straight up)\nTo get ahead, man, you gotta make sacrifices (Woah)\nFuck it though, that's how hungry my appetite is, yeah, yeah\n\nFuck what you telling me, I sense the jealousy\nI got telepathy, I got the recipe\nI got the streets and I don\u2019t got no felonies\nForward thinking, yeah, my mind is ahead of me\nMomma said, \"It's gonna be whatever you let it be\"\nIt's some homies I grew up with that's dead to me\nIt's some niggas that I just met in debt to me\nWhat's in common is they both pay respect to me\nI get it my way from Friday to Friday\nMy girl is a mix of Aaliyah and Sade\nI came a long way from that \"Marvin and Chardonnay\"\nI pull out the driveway like I'm in a car chase speeding!\nAnd if my bitch cheat, she know I'm leaving!\nNo text, no call, boy\nThat bitch airplane mode, cold\nNo peacoat, no time to change clothes\nSame clothes, love if you living by the same code\nG-code, leave, ho\nFuck it, you dead to me, back to my destiny\nPenthouse, birds eye view, that's a nest for me\nI got my self out of debt\nSo when you see me, know you're somebody I'll never need\nYou might also like\nSacrifices (I, I)\nSo many sacrifices (Straight, straight up)\nI done gave up so much free time knowing time ain\u2019t free (Free)\nFuck it, I sacrificed it (Fuck it, I sacrificed it)\nMy girl show me love, she know I made sacrifices (I, I)\nAnd if it's real, real love then you make sacrifices (Straight up)\nTo get ahead, man, you gotta make sacrifices (Woah)\nFuck it though, that's how hungry my appetite is, yeah, yeah\n\nI cut the fuck shit drama out my energy\nFocused on the inner me, never on the enemy\nAnd I done sacrificed my own time, I done sacrificed my own mind\nI done sacrificed the club life, I done sacrificed my love life\nLook, I cut the fuck shit drama out my energy\nFocused on the inner me, never on the enemy\nAnd I done sacrificed my own time, I done sacrificed my own mind\nI done sacrificed the club life, I done sacrificed my love life\n\nOffset!\nI done sacrificed the thug life (Hey), diamonds shining ain't no dull life (Shine)\nDrop my top to get my mind right (Skrt), pull up in the 'Rari, loud pipes (Skrr)\nBitch, I'm the don, my wrist a hundon (Patek)\nOoh, yeah, Gucci python (Yeah)\nOoh, yeah, she play with her tongue\nYeah, I bought that bitch a new charm (Woo)\nLit nigga pop one, I told her come see about me (Come on, come see me)\nThe devil had entered my soul, my momma had beat it out me (The devil, my momma)\nRemember my grandmama had told me you better be somebody (Be somebody)\nHop in my seats massaging (Ah!)\nWatch how I lead the posse (Come on), I made an M deposit (Hey)\nPaid all these dues with the game (Yeah, yeah)\nSacrificed yo' stripes for that stain (Sacrifice)\nHeard you sacrificed your life for that chain (Yeah, yeah)\nShe sacrificed that money for cocaine (White, phew, coco)\nLeft hand got three rings, that's Bron Bron, we up one\nBad bitch, she a savage, take her to the mall and buy her something (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nThat's gonna wanna make your friends come (Yeah, hey)\nMake way with the tommy gun (Tommy gun, brrt)\nWhy can't y'all recognize that we all came from sacrifice? (Woo, woo)\nWhy can't y'all recognize that we all came from sacrifice? (Hey)\nTen toes, yeah, you gotta stay down, ayy (Woo)\nJust some young niggas looking for a way out, ayy (Woo)\nPeople watchin', yeah, I gotta skip town, ayy (Woo)\nHit my phone if you need a whole pound, ayy\n\nI done made sacrifices (I, I)\nSo many sacrifices (Straight, straight up)\nI done gave up so much free time knowing time ain\u2019t free (Free)\nFuck it, I sacrificed it (Fuck it, I sacrificed it)\nMy girl show me love, she know I made sacrifices (I, I)\nAnd if it's real, real love then you make sacrifices (Straight up)\nTo get ahead, man, you gotta make sacrifices (Woah)\nFuck it though, that's how hungry my appetite is, yeah, yeah\nI know my great, great, great aunty was a slave (I know)\nI could only imagine all the sacrifice she made (I can only imagine)\nI could only imagine all the shit she had to take (I can only imagine)\nI'ma make sure all the blood she gave wasn't in vain (Damn)\nI sacrificed for your entertainment, boy, I'm Mr. Anderson in the Matrix\nCheck the last name it's all facts and the human race is all about pacing (Damn)\nLook at all the ones I outlasted, I'm the one at the end like I count backwards\nNever satisfied, details classified 'til the afterlife, make a sacrifice, Don (Don)\nWhy can\u2019t y\u2019all recognize that we all came from sacrifice?\nWhy can\u2019t y\u2019all recognize that we all came from sacrifice?"}
{"text":"Ayy, ayy, ayy\nAyy, ayy, ayy\n(Hit-Boy)\nAyy, this that Clipse sample, ayy (G. Ry got me)\nFuck that talkin', let the clip slam 'em\n\nYellow bands around them hundreds, you know how much that is (Tens)\nToo much to give me cash, they had to wire me the backend (Send it)\nNiggas in here lookin' tough, you know that I got mag in (What?)\nAsk me am I only rappin', you know I got that bag in (You see it)\nBandman like Lonnie (Lonnie), want my head? Come find me (Come get it)\nLil' bro in that bitch chillin', he ain't tryna come home cocky (He chillin')\nHe comin' home to a dollar (Dollar), and a mansion and a chopper (What else?)\nIn the desert on a dirt bike (Skrrt), VLONE shirt and the Pradas (Fresh)\nBig nigga fresher than you, fuck you and your stylist (Woah)\nPaid ninety for my grill, then lost it, that's why I ain't smilin' (Damn)\nYou got Sean, you got Hit, you got Grizz\nKash Doll'll paint you red, throw you in the water, they gon' think you a lobster, nigga\nGang (Uh)\n\nI just dropped a kit, you dropped out of school\nThese hoes wanna be famous 'til they make the news\nAll my bitches winnin', how it feel to lose?\nNigga tryna get the box like he finna move\nBitch, I'm at my pinnacle, I used to shop at Pinnacle\nYour nigga still drink Pinnacle, bitch, your taste is pitiful\nI talk cash shit, you ain't cash shit\nCall up Baby Choppa, Cash Kidd, and spend my cash, kid\nYou stay back like adlibs, I buy, I don't ask shit\nI pop shit and pop tags, bitch, this new era be cappin', uh\nMe, Sean, Tee off that Pusha T, ain't no pushin' me\nBro might put you on a tee, dot my I's and cross my T's\nBro might put you six feet or bro gon' put you on your feet\nBut bro can't put you onto me\nA-plus pussy worth a B, nigga, uh\nYou niggas ain't worth no B, fuck outta here\nYou might also like\nI keep dyin' in my dreams, but life's great when I stay woke\nBet you love dreamin', that's the only time you ain't broke\nTry me, 40 make you back up off me like DeJ Loaf and Big Sean\nGet triggered down, Jhen\u00e9 Aiko\nGotta keep Glock in the fanny\nNigga, you not finna ham me, huh\nPut a body on a ratchet, I feel like Dr. Miami\nNiggas tryna ride my wave like they stoppin' a taxi\nOn a six in a Lam', but I'm not that bitch Mary (Helluva made this beat, baby, Four-One)\n\nThey counted me out, I came back with a vengeance\nIn back-to-back Benzes, back-to-back winnin'\nRap failed, oh well, give me back my scale\nAnd a burn-out cell, I'll grow clientele (Yup)\nFour-One P, I don't sell dreams, I wholesale P's (Uh)\nWant halves, nigga, don't call me, don't insult me (Boy)\nWrist frosty, 'bout eighty what this shit cost me\nDon't worry, I'll make it back before you sip coffee\nI run with hustlers and bosses, bosses and hustlers (Yeah)\nHad to find my hustle, I was lost in the gutter\nGot out that jam, now it's foreigns with the seats peanut butter\nBitch, it's BYLUG for life, never crossin' my brothers\n\n(Let's go)\n(Helluva made this beat, baby)\nI fuck with 6 Mile, not too much the 7, they freed the 4s\nThat's your bitch, huh? Well, get her together, she fuckin' bro\nYou know them road trips still bring a dub in, sub in\nEven if the party was seven, the strip club ten\nI'm all in this bitch on the tether, I'm throwin' dubs still\nI put her in the Bentley mansion rent-free\nTold 'em keep the G-Wagon plain, don't even tint these\nCan't be fuckin' with a lame, dog, you got her head big\nThree hundred a line for the Wock', I'm sippin' red still\nI know how the feds feel, I make it hard to catch me\nCuz sellin' corn still, codeword for reggies\nI ain't signed a deal yet, fuck it, I don't need 'em\nEverybody with me eatin', free my niggas 'til I see 'em\nHe ain't dead, we ain't even, Jet back, ante up, bitch\nFree them boys\n\n(Shit hard)\n(Where you at, Bo?)\n\nWe gon' make it off the ave, get a half, then I shake it\nSomethin' like a bad habit, we ain't have it, we gon' take it\nCame up off a fifty slab, now my bag big as yappers\nWorkers beggin' me for time off, askin' me for raises\nTook me six hours to count it, bubble wrap it up, and tape it\nAll my bitches want allowance, plug askin' me for favors\nI been out of town so long, had to get reacquainted\nWith the neighbors on the block, all this cash we been rakin'\nWay before the rap when I was writin' verses\nWe was beatin' up the Ike like I was Tina Turner\nWe was loadin' up the Glock and fillin' up the hearses\nNow I'm preachin' like it's Sunday, tryna teach the sermon\nTryna teach 'em how to get it, fill up they mamas' purses\nSo they ain't standin' front the judge, listen to the verdicts\n'Cause we was standin' on the block, thuggin' with the serpents (Yeah)\nGet caught with Kurtis Blow on me and they gon' close the curtains\n\nMillion-dollar calls you can't merge in, BasedGod how I got my curse lift\nShe gon' play her part so well, you thought that she rehearsed it\nDon life worship\nHoly temple, synagogue, tabernacle, churches\n\nYeah (Hit-Boy)\nLook\n\nI can't even chill, I get active\nOverdoin' everythin' my best and worst habit\nShit be impossible 'til it happens\nI never thought I'd see Kobe go before Magic\nThat taught me first, no seconds to waste\nOnly waist I like is her legs wrapped around my face\nFuck you think she doin' over here? Watchin' Netflix?\nBeard game, might just let it grow down to my necklace, uh\nI don't hope for wins, I expect it, uh\nAdrenaline in me like it got injected\nMy girl say I got communication issues, no, I don't\nI just don't like sharin' all my problems more than the results\nI bring the plan back to my team, tell 'em go wild\nGodbody my physique and my profile\nI did every single goal that I wrote down\nChecked it off, it's old now\nAnd that shit give me chills, fuck I gotta take yours?\nI'm the originator, make it, then I make more\nWritten in stone, you can't forge\nYou ain't on my level even if we in the same buildin' on the same floor\nOld boy black out\nDough boy cash out, payroll, contract maxed out\nCash kid, cash cow\nTapped in, I can't tap out\nBitch, keep thinkin' I'm sleepin' in\nTony on the monitor, I see your ass creepin' in\nLil' bitch, if it weren't for me, you wouldn't exist, you get the gist?\nFuck a cease and desist, they shootin' up seats and exits\nThrowin' plays to my bros, I'm leadin' the league in assists\nHopscotch, blacktop, I ain't been skippin' a step since\nReal estate, Zillow every day, bitch, I might just change my profession\nDodged so many rainy days, it changed my complexion\nHang up on your ass and say I lost the connection\nI turned out to be the man that I manifested\n\n(Let's go then)\n\nHmm, fuck the bullshit\nI ain't here to make no friends, can't get bool with me\nSince an adolescent, I was ignorant, up in school trippin'\nPistol at my desk, I was sittin' up in school with it\nPut your bitch hand in my corner pocket, play pool with it\nShe gon' eat the dick, both balls licked, and do it to me\nAin't go to college, I ain't want no pussy nigga roomin' with me\nStill could've went to college, Sada ain't no fool, nigga\nEvery clip we got extended, yellow Perkies look like minions\nPut Church's Chicken on your niggas, scrape them boys for half a biscuit\nKnow I like the burner, but I'll beat your ass, this shit personal, huh\nHit a nigga in his shit with this fifty or thirty, duh\n\n(Let's go, Royce)\n\nName a nigga out of the D as solid as me\nI unlocked a lot of dollars, nigga, knowledge is key\nI did it all without a college degree\nI went from hottest signed artists, don dada, to G\nStreet lord, rock bottom, Godfather, and P\nD-Boy, Rottweiler, Sean, Sada, and Tee\nStandin' on the corner three days\nPhone is on Motorola prepaid\nDiadora or gold Ellesses\nThese are ordered from the older East Bays\nShe either rollin' with the owners or the lessees\nA kind man knows a blind man holds grudges\nA wise man knows a wise man knows nothin'\nI thought I told you motherfuckers I ain't need a budget\nI ride with them guys that society begrudges\nWe been thuggin' worldwide, got arenas buzzin'\nWe survived gettin' fronted by Ilena cousin\nBefore you could sell that Cole and Adele\nOr go NFL, be Kobe or Kells\nThe plight of the rich is to throw you in jail\nThe fight has been fixed since the openin' bell\nAnd you know who postin' your bail? Who promotin' your L?\nWho be hopin' you fail? Nigga, Oprah and Gayle\nIgnore the hate, show the world that we love the opps\nCall Lyor great while they make rape Russell docs\nNah\n\n(Okay, yeah)\n(Hit-Boy)\nYeah\n(G. Ry got me)\n\nBitch, you have never said a clever line ever\nYou murdering in the booth is the furthest thing from the truth\nRest assured, I'ma treat this roof like I'm peelin' off (What?)\nThe plastic on a pill bottle, I'm tearin' the ceilin' off, yeah\nRipping rappers like they were wrapped in Saran, bitch\nAnd I'm strapped up with ammunition\nAnd single-handedly takin' over the game like I had an actual hand missing\nBut I only need one to clap\nAnimal ambition\nThe only butt-fuckin' way that you're strapped is for cash\nWish you could slap in the damn clip in that motherfuckin' imaginary little handgun you're brandishin'\nBitch, if you pull up with the stick\nIt's a car with a manual transmission\nThe chances are low to none that I will overcome my bipolar one\nVoodoo dolls, I'm just pokin' fun, pins to me are like loaded guns\nWhen I'm holdin' one, if I'm just fiddlin' with it\nThis motherfucker discharges like me checkin' myself out of the fucking mental hospital\nAnd I get off like an acquittal, I spit it, you critique it\nIt feels like I'm bein' belittled by midgets\nIt's like holding a nuke or a damn bazooka\nAnd walkin' right up in the middle of a little kids' fuckin' pillow fight with it\nYou want smoke? I'm like hookah\nMan, I remember back when I used to get jumped for my fucking Pumas\nRun home and go fuck my room up\nThese streets will try to vacuum you up\nThat's why the avenue where I grew up was 8 Mile and Hoover (What?)\n'Cause it sucked like a Roomba\nBut even if I would've went the indie route\nI don't have any doubt\nI would still get blown like it's windy out\nShoot 'til the clip is emptied out\nThis is the beginning of the ending, but I'll put another clip in and spit these rounds\nIf I dig deep down when I'm in my bag like Fendi\nWho am I offending now?\nGot so many fucking detractors, feels like I'm gettin' plowed\nHad to put my money on a diet, I got too many pounds\nYou would think I'm turnin' pages the way that I'm flippin' paper\nMiddle fingers, them bitches get to wavin' like friendly neighbors\nI'm talkin' loot like I'm rioting\nDick is so big, I can't fit the entire thing through a tire swing\nI don't think it'd be logic for me to say that I'm retirin'\nBut I should say bye-bye, earthlings\n'Cause I'm back on Uranus fuckin' up this \"Grindin'\" beat, yeah\nI took the pain and learned how to put that shit into a song\nYou listen for flaws and strip it and try to pick it apart\nSo when I'm rippin', it's hard to tell whether if it is really because\nOf how offensive I am, or just what a bitch that you are\nLike I never had to get my clothes at fucking St. Vincent de Paul\nLike I don't make sure every sentence and bar with a pencil is sharp, and I'm quick on the draw\nYeah, so when I pull it, surprise (Pull it, surprise), like Kendrick Lamar\nYou need to walk the Yellow Brick Road and find the chick with the dog\n'Cause y'all are missing a heart\nPlus your bitch is giving out brain like the Wizard of Oz\nThis shit is like sitting in the principal's office getting scolded for skipping\nY'all got detention tomorrow\nI'm severe like Benzo withdrawal\nBitch, your skin's gonna crawl\nI'm invincible, I've been through it all\nLike I never thought about just ending it 'til I got pissed off and put a fist through the wall\nMy back was against\nNow I rap like I'm possessed, that's nine-tenths of the law\nOh\nOh, fuck it"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsAshley Lyrics\nAnd I, I wouldn't trade it for the world, world, world\nAnd I, just so fucking lucky you're my girl, girl, girl\nAnd I, I wouldn't trade it for anything\nNo, no, no not anything and you\n\nYeah, I got a brand new Benz\nCrazy right, brand new Benz\nGot less miles on it than I do friends\nRemember when we laid at you and Paige\u2019s crib\nWas there so long I coulda paid rent\nRemember when we couldn\u2019t get shit?\nBest thing bout being broke is you don\u2019t spend shit\nRemember that Christmas? We had a wish list\nWe couldn\u2019t afford nothin' but we still get shit\nIronically those were the times I felt the richest\nAll those times that we spent by the pool girl\nWas too broke to even take you to the zoo girl\nMaybe its because I had you girl\nWas thinking about when we went to London and Paris\nAnd gave each other times that we cherished\nRemember when you saw the Eiffel Tower\nAnd you got so drunk threw up? Yup you were so embarrassed\nSee those are times I can\u2019t let go, I can\u2019t let go\nMan I hate to see you single in the club looking for kisses and hugs\nSo you Sipping on XO til I snatch you up like \u201clet\u2019s go\u201d\nYou might also like\nAnd I, I wouldn't trade it for the world, world, world\nAnd I, just so fucking lucky you're my girl, girl, girl\nAnd I, I wouldn't trade it for anything\nNo, no, no not anything and you\nCan't nobody do it like you do it, like you do it, like you do it, like you\n\nMy bad for those long long nights, long nights when I left you in the sheets\nSorry for when you had to cry yourself to sleep\nTried to count on me and I made you count sheep\nSorry when you put your faith in me I was unfaithful, disgraceful, distasteful\nYeah I know you\u2019re not supposed to hate cake and eat too\nCrazy how these hoes always kept my plate full\nWhat about the emails you hacked in?\nI know we hate to live in the past-tense\nIt\u2019s been weird since I went out west and did an album with No I.D\nAnd ain\u2019t came back since\nNow we the best in the city, I rep for the city\nThat\u2019s about the time that you left for the city\nYou and all your girls moved to NY\nI shoulda\u2019 known now how you watch Sex And The City\nI know we ain\u2019t close but, I gotta focus on blowing up\nI know I promised that I\u2019d be there, and really did I ever show up?\nI know I wasn\u2019t honest to ya girl\nAlmost broke every promise to ya girl\nBrought problems to your world\nAnd you said \u201chow could you just lie to me? I thought you\u2019d die for me?\u201d\nI was scared you\u2019d find somebody who would treat you like you supposed to\nYou the type niggas get close to, get close to, and then propose to\nAnd when Thanksgiving come around\nI ain't tryna bring hoes through to momma\nSo it\u2019s back to the drama\n\u201cNo I don\u2019t know that number\u201d\n\u201cWhy the hell you text it?\u201d\nHeartbreak hotel man, with no exit just checked in\nYoung and living reckless\nAnd I, I wouldn't trade it for the world, world, world\nAnd I, just so fucking lucky you're my girl, girl, girl\nAnd I, I wouldn't trade it for anything\nNo, no, no not anything and you\nCan't nobody do it like you do it, like you do it, like you do it, like you\n\nI can't imagine myself without you\nI need a whole lot of help without you\nMe and my granny both agreed\nDamn you're such a G I\u2019ll hold you down forever, B\n\nAnd I, I wouldn't trade it for the world, world, world\nAnd I, just so fucking lucky you're my girl, girl, girl\nAnd I, I wouldn't trade it for anything\nNo, no, no not anything and you\nCan't nobody do it like you do it, like you do it, like you do it, like you"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easJump Out the Window Lyrics\nI think I\u2019m ready to jump out the window\nAnd turn that nigga that you with right back into your friend, though\nWe already wasted too much time\nAnd your time is the only thing I wish was mine\nSo yeah, oh yeah, I think I\u2019m ready to jump out the window\n\nStraight up, straight up, look\nKnow ya momma didn\u2019t raise you to take no disrespect, yeah\nI feel, I feel like real queens know how to keep the game in check, yeah\nYou cried on my phone the whole night\nThat time he crossed the line yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Oh I was there) I went to straighten his ass out\nAnd you told me never mind yeah, yeah, yeah\nThe question isn't, \"Do he love ya?\" The question is, \"Do ya love yourself?\"\nYou give the best advice to your friends and not take it for yourself\nRemember when you used to come through and hit the Mario Kart\nAnd you always picked the princess\nI realized you was princess way back then\nWe the best thing that never happened, but\n\nI think I'm ready to jump out the window\nAnd turn that nigga that you with right back into your friend though\nWe already wasted too much time\nAnd your time is the only thing I wish was mine\nSo yeah, oh yeah, I think I'm ready to jump out the window\nYou might also like\nYou been up at night, sleep deprivation\nWhat's the hesitation? What's ya reservation?\nYou been trippin', trippin' with no destination\nYou need separation, you need recreation\nY'all been arguing every other day\nYa friends gotta step in and break it up like chill, chill, chill\nIt's no need to turn this into Kill Bill, look\nFunny we ran into each other while we leaving\nYou walked in with a perm\nAnd now yo' hair look like The Weeknd's\nI know that you been needin' clarity\nDon't mean to sit ya down and turn this into therapy\nBut you gave too much time to that boy charity, hear me\n\nI think I'm ready to jump out the window\nAnd turn that nigga that you with right back into your friend, though\nWe already wasted too much time\nAnd your time is the only thing I wish was mine\nSo yeah, oh yeah, I think I'm ready to jump out the window\n\nLook, I don't mean to sound like the jealous type\nBut you oughta know (oughta know)\nI think me and you should get together sometimes\nOn the low low low\nSometimes I wonder if you even know\nHow much you worth, I gotta know\nSometimes I wonder if you even know\nHow much you worth, I gotta know\nI don't mean to sound like the jealous type\nBut you oughta know (oughta know)\nI think me and you should get together sometimes\nOn the low low low\nSometimes I wonder if you even know\nHow much you worth, I gotta know\nSometimes I wonder if you even know\nHow much you worth I gotta know\nI gotta know, I gotta know, I gotta know\nI think I'm ready to jump out the window\nThis one's for you, you, you, you, you, you, you"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsLiving Single Lyrics\nUh-huh, oh, yeah, look\n\nOkay I know what it feel like to be young and single\nYou know the life when your pockets got a bunch of singles\nYou know taking double shots, saying fuck a single\nYou know, hardly getting sleep but it's the fuckin' dream though\nLook, I know what it feel like to think you found the one\nTold mom that so many times that I'm sounding dumb\nCause she started to mix Ashley up with Tanesha\nAnd saying \"Hi Britney\" when I'm on the phone with Lisa\nFuck it, I got some new hoes, I mean some XXX girls\nPussy get wet as an S-Curl\nThen I started thinkin' 'bout my ex-ex-ex girl\nAnd how it was the worst times but she was the best girl\nYou know, good girl, bad time, right place, wrong mind\nGot my mind right, hit her back, brrr, the wrong line\n(The number you dialed has been disconnected)\nMan, but before I started feeling bad\nMy nigga text me like \"I got some hoes, hit me back\"\nFuck it\n\nOh I could let you down\nWhen you trip, I'll take you anywhere, I take ya\nWe get ahead, yup, she give me head, damn right\nYou know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nWith this crazy, crazy world\nThank God I'm with my girl\nWe get ahead, yup, she give me head, damn right\nYou know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nWith this crazy, crazy world\nThank God I'm with my girl\nYou might also like\nYou be the momma, you be the daddy\nBaby, we could play house, I'll change your addy\nOr even change my palate and fuck with salad\nPut me in the picture, let's change your avi, oh, oh, oh\nCan't even stunt I was sprung from the jump\nNever got head while flaming up the blunt\nYou were my first, I'm just saying\nMore folks should try it, it's crazy\nFocus, selfish moments, on road, I done have my share\nFlying out of town like baby don't mind my player\nSleepy arguments via texts while I buy my beer\nAnd the air so tired I forget to recline my chair\nPicture you in my head, a souvenir by my legs\nSome scuba gear for the bed, we do it 'cause Simon says\nAin't a single living thing that likes living single\nWe good over here, that's all that we know\n\nOh I could let you down\nWhen you trip, I'll take you anywhere, I take ya\nWe get ahead, yup, she give me head, damn right\nYou know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nWith this crazy, crazy world\nThank God I'm with my girl\nWe get ahead, yup, she give me head, damn right\nYou know it right if she ain't by my side\nWith this crazy, crazy world\nThank God I'm with my girl\nTo the one girl guys who claim they don't need more\nLike my nigga Henry, he married at 24\nI'm like why nigga, why?\nYou supposed to be with her longer than your ass been alive?\nHe like, \"ahhh\"\nFuck it, we about to do therapy\nAyy, at least when I hit the doctor I'm carefree with no plan b's\nYou probably never got tested and have that type of clarity\nI'd rather live my life with that lifetime guarantee\nBut I'm down to hear the stories about what your hoes do\nIt\u2019s probably more entertaining than me talking about my wife down in Whole Foods\nOr how when I'm with her I feel whole too\nGo on, keep living that life you niggas know you too old to\nFuck it, I started laughing and pretend like I ain't listen\nEven though he on target with everything I've been missing\nThe closest thing I had to that came in at 4 AM and out at 8 for work\nAnd I'm the reason we ain't make it work\nThat's what makes it worse\nDamn\n\nOh I could let you down\nWhen you trip, I'll take you anywhere, I take ya\nWe get ahead, yup, she give me head, damn right\nYou know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nWith this crazy, crazy world\nThank God I'm with my girl\nWe get ahead, yup, she give me head, damn right\nYou know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nWith this crazy, crazy world\nThank God I'm with my girl"}
{"text":"\nVoices in my head sayin' I could do better, damn\nVoices in my head sayin' that I knew better\n(You know better, what the fuck!)\nI done seen this shit happen a hundred times on the regular\nBut I still crossed the line like I'm blind, damn\nVoices in my head saying I could do better\n(You always do the same shit)\n\nThis was supposed to be the last time, last hit\nLast call, last feel, last trip, last run\nThat's what I always tell myself, huh, damn\nThis was supposed to be the last one, last two\nLast flip, last you, last me, last night\nDoing every single thing my parents warned me 'bout\n(You're a fucking disappointment) 'Til I wore 'em out, shit\n\nVoices in my head saying I could do better\n(Voices in my head saying that I could do better)\nVoices in my head saying that I knew better\n(Yeah, you know what's about to go down)\nI done seen this shit happen a hundred times on the regular\nBut I still, fuck\n(That's your problem, you don't listen!)\nYou might also like\n\nVoices in my head, conscience talking to me like\nLook\nMetro Boomin want some more, nigga\n\nStick to the plan, stick to the plan\nStick to the plan, bitch quit playing\nStick to the, plan, to the plan\nStick to the plan, bitch quit playing\nStick to the, plan\n\nStay focused\nDon't let these niggas see your emotions\nStick to the notion, stay in motion\nRemember soon as you stand still\nSo will everything else you notice\nMake sure all your inner actions end with actions\nIf you stacking fronting and back in\nSubtract if it isn't adding\nPlus who hurt you don't let back in\nPlan it out, yeah, tit for tat it\nExtra pussy get distracted\nPut that into what's worth having (boy)\nStick to the plan, stick to the plan\nStick to the plan, bitch quit playing\nStick to the, plan, to the plan\nStick to the plan, bitch quit playing\nStick to the, plan\n\nStay focused (stay focused)\nPay attention who you getting close with\nDistance yourself from negative energy\nVoices in my head, they say it's meant for me\nI, I, I, you in my way, bitch it's no sympathy\nI, I, I, been plotting this since elementary\nI, I, I, no you need to buckle down\nHave people asking where you at\nAnd wondering why you never wanna come around\nYou know that effort gon' come around\nBig face like Zordon\nYou bought the watch but can't afford the time\nEven if you running out of breath\nWeight of the world doing lots of reps\nTime to get this generation\nLast one and then the next two outta debt\nAnd they gon' pay you back with respect\nJust stick to the plan, still, we can chill\nBack when I rocked the white and blue Grant Hills\nI realized there's no dream that I can't fill\nI manifested all while I'm the man still\n(Bitch I'm the man)\nVoices in my head attacking what I'm thinking\nBullet to the head might be the way to free it\nIf I leave my body I can free the spirits\nSwear to God my death of fear just keep on shrinking\nWishing I could go back to the nineties\nBack when I was dreaming\nMe and my dog was on a mission like we Kel and Kenan\nEarly 2000s Detroit might as well been the hell with demons\nWondering when I started losing it, the losing grip\nFeeling like I'm in the middle of the ocean\nYou either drown or canoe through it\nVoices in my head said I'm used to it\nSome help me to lose and some help me maneuv' through it\nWhen I talk to myself I'm confused on who's who it\nI know in life you either blow it or blew it\nAnd at the end of life, it's gonna feel like you flew through it\nI just hope by then I cut the voices in my head"}
{"text":"Do or die, nigga\nI'mma keep poppin' this Champagne\nDon't worry about shit\nFinally famous, nigga\n\nMan, I look up to God, I wonder if I fell from the sky\nWould I hit the ground or will I learn how to fly?\nI'm pretty sure you see it in my eyes\nSometimes I wonder if I already died\nThat shit get deep, deep, deep\nMan, I swear to God that shit just get so deep, deep, deep, deep\n\nMan, I swear to God it get so deep though\nThat sometimes I  just gotta wake my ass up out my sleep though\nAnd wonder what if all the shit I reaped then got repoed\nAnd the girl I gave it all up for ain't love me for me though\nSee, I got a stack of problems that could use a fucking steamroll\nGot off in the game, don't need no cheat code\nAs long as I know the G code\nBeing paranoid done turned me to a creep\nYou ain't got that metal on your side\nPolice gon' work it like Magneto if they need to, it get deep\nDeep, deeper than telekinesis\nDeeper than your sister dying and you're telling your nieces\nThe deeper it gets, boy, the pressure increases\nBut pressure make diamonds\nAnd my name is Sean cause I shine, it's self explanatory\nI architect the flow, rapping all of these stories on stories\nYou know the story\nIf my back against the ropes, then I'll finish Stone Cold it\nMy opponent probably praying for postponement\nYou fuck with the best rapper, don't even know it\nIt's written in the stars, man, the sky is the author\nI pulled the sword out of the stone, I'm King Arthur\nMotherfuck your armor, nigga, only weapon I'm scared of is Karma\nYou watching the son turn to father, fucking life and her daughter\nNigga, that shit just get deep\nYou might also like\nMan, I look up to God, I wonder if I fell from the sky\nWould I hit the ground or will I learn how to fly?\nI'm pretty sure you see it in my eyes\nSometimes I wonder if I already died\nThat shit get deep, deep, deep\nMan, I swear to God that shit just get so deep, deep, deep, deep, deep\n\nBeen going hard all day\nWish a nigga would fuck with me\nThen I blow the candles out on my cake\nAnd niggas always thinking it's a game\nTil we ran them out the arcade\nStunting in my southernplayerlistic Cadillac, Andre\nI talk that cash money shit\nYM plus CMB, you can do the math for me, bitch\nJail time, a slap on the wrist\nCut your head off, get it mailed out, stamp on your lips\nYou can tell I'm grinding by my wrist\nAnything can happen cause a broke man is an optimist\nWell, tell them I'll be waiting in suspense\nI got some miles on me, but it's cool cause I never give an inch\nAnd I don't give two fucks about what your mouth say\nCause this shit is deeper than rap, I cannot say\nThat shit enough times like somebody rewind me\nLike shit is deeper than rap, I cannot say that shit enough times\nI feel like Sean, don't get enough shine\nIs it because he ain't got the tattoos? He ain't throwing up signs\nWell, let me throw up mine\nAnd also let me show this vision of mine\nFuck the finish line, just finish your lines\nAnd if getting your point across crosses the line\nSome of the time then cross it with pride\nThat's real, my nigga, remember that\nAnd it ain't about if they remember you, they remember rap\nSo just spit it back and hope somebody diggin' that\nCause this shit is deep, deep\nDeep as empty pockets, nigga\nWe come empty pockets before we have empty pockets, slime\nThat shit get deep\nMan, I look up to God, I wonder if I fell from the sky\nWould I hit the ground or will I learn how to fly?\nI'm pretty sure you see it in my eyes\nSometimes I wonder if I already died\nThat shit get deep, deep, deep, deep\nMan, I swear to God that shit just get so deep, deep, deep, deep, deep\nThat shit get deep, deep, deep\n(Deep as empty pockets)\nDeep, deep\n(We come empty pockets before we have empty pockets)\nYeah, oh my god is just so deep, Yeah, yeah\n(Deep as empty pockets)\n(We come empty pockets before we have empty pockets)\nSometimes I wonder if I already died\nThat shit get deep"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsHalfway Off the Balcony Lyrics\nI am ready right now\nUh huh\nI look up I don't even know no more\nI think it's funny how it go down\nI don't even know no more, official shit\n\nI'm hangin' halfway off the balcony\nOverthinkin' 'cause my job is way more than a salary\nEverything around me gold like I just practiced alchemy\nI realized when it comes to girls\nThat chemistry means way more than anatomy\nShe mad at me, she been mad at me\n\nI'm the livin' proof\nThat you don't need a master's just to be a masterpiece\nPeople passin' faster than I'm passin' weed\nMy daddy tell me, \"Stay strong, son\nAnd be the man you have to be\nHoldin' ship down, don't crash at sea\"\nBrrrt! Paper on my phone line\nIt's on my phone like fax for me, that's facts to me\nBut I don't want it if it can't change shit drastically, dramatically\n'Cause actually, I realized time's the most valuable, actually\nSo I'ma call my favorite girl and she gon' bring that ass for me\nAnd as for me, I'ma text the room number right now\nSo you ain't gotta hit the front desk and go ask for me\nDon't ask for me, don't ask for me\nDon't ask for me\nLot of shit been goin' on, things goin' wrong\nSo don't ask for me\nYou might also like\nI'm hangin' halfway off the balcony\nOverthinkin' 'cause my job is way more than a salary\nEverything around me gold like I just practiced alchemy\nI realized when it comes to girls\nThat chemistry means way more than anatomy\nShe mad at me, she been mad at me\n\nShe been mad, I've been on the go, on the road\nOn a roll more than a roller coaster\nThey can't throw me off track or slow\nIf I did, I got a long list of hoes on hoes\nThat quote on quote, say I told you so\nHeaven on earth, every night is paradise\nI pray I didn't die or overdose, never that\nI kept it a hundred, never change, not even for five 20s\nStill smokin' at 5:20 like it's 4:20\nOn a quest for more money, more hungry\nJust got my fortune read, she said it's more comin'\nYeah I got the force but never force nothin'\nDo it for the love, I'm Forrest Gumpin'\nIn my city I'm Warren Buffett\nI mean business, the shirt is tucked in\nThe gun's tungsten, fuck it, I'm who not to fuck with\nWho the bad bitches gon' fuck with and lames just don't fuck with\nMy stock's risin', I'm goin' public, if I write it, it's gon' publish\nYou're fuckin' with the best, no discussion\nSo disgusting\nIt's that 3 and a third shit\nStraight up\n\nI'm hangin' halfway off the balcony\nOverthinkin' 'cause my job is way more than a salary\nEverything around me gold like I just practiced alchemy\nI realized when it comes to girls\nThat chemistry means way more than anatomy\nShe mad at me, she been mad at me\nShe been mad\n\nElder Big Sean: I think you should answer...\nMan: Yo, yo your mom callin' you\nBig Sean: Um, I'ma call her back\nMan: You sure dawg? She keep callin'\nBig Sean: Yeah for sure, for sure, bruh, I'ma call her back"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsMILF Lyrics\n\nOh! Oh!\nYou are just what the doctor ordered\nOoh, look at there!\nI heard you was a pleaser, and baby - oh shit!\n\nMan, not my mama; man, not my mama\nMan, not my mama; quit messin with my mama\n\nI love me some of yo mama, (oh!) true that (true that)\nDon't call me daddy, only she can do that\nOk, me and yo mama be fuckin (yup)\nBoy you don't know nothin' about that\nYou seen her lookin all mad (mad) ain't it time for ya nap?\nYou wake up, I'm back (back) eating up all your snacks (hah)\nDon't ask for help with your math (stupid)\nAin't my fault, you can't add\nDon't be out here fake crying, lying (boi)\nUp in the keyhole straight spying\nOnly knock the door if you're dying\nI wish I could stay in here forever (I love it)\nYou the only reason me and your mama ain't together (lil bitch)\nShe's so much better than my old bitch\nMan, I love that old bitch, I do\nOh! This feels so nice, oh shit!\nYou might also like\nNo stress, no drama\nHer kids hatin, they know I fucked their mama\n\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama, yup)\nQuit messin with my mama\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nQuit messin with my mama\n\nThe way she bounce both cheekies, boy she freaky (freaky)\nShoulda known she was kinky\nWhen I walked inside the room and I seen that slinky (what the fuck)\nEven made me use my pinky, the way she teach me\nIt's just so dreamy, oh God, damn, man\nI cheat on tests, cheat on hoes, I cheat when I can (I do)\nI'm even cheating on my whip, I got a side Benz (I do)\nBut she made me wanna cut off all my side friends (I love you, baby)\nA nigga be tryna chase her, take her, date rape her\nStand out the daycare sit there and wait there\nFuck, I can't even trust the neighbors, damn\n(What you lookin at?) You niggas stick to your young hoes\nI got a freak that wash, dry, and fold clothes (that's right)\nLil motherfuckers (Yeah, that's right)\nOoh this great, big, enormous motherfucker!\nOh! Just let me, oh! Let me jockey this dick!\nNo stress, no drama\nHer kids hatin, they know I fucked their mama\n\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama, yup)\nQuit messin with my mama\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nMan not my mama (I love ya mama)\nQuit messin with my mama\n\nI got my welfare check, smokin on that crack\nHell yeah I'm unemployed, baby daddy down my back\nNow what you got for me Sean? I heard it's big and it's long\nI take my teeth out, suck it good, this where your dick belong\nY-Y-Yeeeaah, do it like dat daddy\nPump pump bump bump it in my ass-matic\nYou ain't tell me you was big-boned\n(Mom, I'm hungry) Shut your mouth, you little bastards go on\n(All this ass is for you Seany.. can I call you Seany?)\nSl-Sl-Sl-Sl-Slap me in my face with it, get a crack valve with that bass in it\nIf I got weed then I'm lacing it, eat all this ass, quit tasting it nigga\nMan not my mama, man not my mama\nMan not my mama, quit messin with my mama\nMan not my mama, man not my mama\nMan not my mama; quit messin with my mama\n\nHigh as a motherfucker (trippy)\nFuckin' e'rybody mama...\nI got yo mama all in my line (line), bullets all in my 9 (9)\nRollie tell the time, she ain't yours, she ain't mine\nThrow a hundred every time, I think my coupe just lost its mind (mind)\nPut yo mama on that trippy shit, sippin lean, snorting lines (she high)\nOverseas like \"bonjour\", last ten years I've been on tour\nAnd I still got that old money, I touch more green than a lawnmower\nWith a ratchet bitch (bitch), you laid up (stupid ass)\nI'm on my tour bus fucking mamas getting paid up\nI take that bitch to my mansion (mansion) and a nigga can't pay her to leave (leave)\nYo mama a great head doctor (groupie), with no PhD (groupie)\nMy pockets stuffed with dough, I made it all in the streets\nI might just go to the club, and throw it all on a freak\nYo mama, ratchet ass bitch\n\nBaby, oooooh, can you feel what I feel? OH shit!\nI hope you brought your boots and shoes, cuz motherfucker\nI'm gonna be here a while"}
{"text":"Somebody gotta do it\nLook, no more interviews\nI'm not talking about this on a song, feature or interlude\nReporting live from Hawaii with my girl\nI brought sand to the beach\nWorking on vacay in the booth, sand on my feet\nI'm from the ground up like a ground-ball play\nI'm coming from the underground like it's Groundhog's Day\nI'm talking so underground that when I talk about J, nigga\nI might mean J Dilla, R.I.P. real niggas\nLately I only do the shit that inspire me\nLately niggas treat the Shade Room like a diary\nOh yeah, is that what you heard?\nBelieving everything that you hear without confirming it first\nAnd you know the funny thing about it is my ex wanna write a tell-all\nFucked up thing about it is she ain\u2019t even tell all\nLike how I introduced her to meditation, positive thinking\nAnd the books she probably read in daily rotation\nI learned when people lie on you not to return the favor so\nI won\u2019t get you embarrassed\nI won\u2019t tell them all the other parts about you that's plastic\nThis my last time putting my ex in a song even though the last one went triple platinum\nI\u2019d rather put that energy into what's worth having\nLike how I got a platinum album with no solo tour\nNiggas say it's over for me, I go overboard\nBack against the wall like my poster but I\u2019m the poster boy\nNot from the city if you let THEY tell it\nGreatest rapper of all time if you let YE tell it\nYou ask me, I don\u2019t got the resume yet\nBut, shit, I can go bar for bar for niggas who talking off\nAnd getting egged on by A&Rs who, soon as your shit fallin\u2019 off, they walkin\u2019 off\nAnd if you rappers diss us and ours just know that you dead and you know it\nMy career been moving perpetual motion\nYou might also likeI'm not impressed with the whoopty woop, I don\u2019t know who is who\nAnd can\u2019t pretend like I\u2019m hip to it, no hula hoop\nAnd I can\u2019t lie like I like this shit like I usually do\nAnd I'm just not impressed by you niggas rapping fast\nWho sound like one big asthma attack but trash when I\u2019m rapping it back\nWho you put in your top five and claim they the savior of rap\nSo many friends turn to enemies, they frenemies\nI don\u2019t know why I act like I\u2019m surprised or it's offending me\nI\u2019m saying, though, I should have learned from Hov and Dame\nFrom Stunna and Wayne, Cudi and YE\nWhat happened to our family ways, though?\nWhen I put you on that song with Nas, you had told me that you was forever grateful\u00a0\nAnd that we brothers, so it hurt to hit the internet to find out that me and you don\u2019t fuck with each other\u00a0\nOver a miscommunication that probably could be fixed with a 5 minute conversation, I\u2019m still praying\u00a0\nFor ya, though, I guess I charged it to the game\nHow much it cost? Around twenty88\nGoing off like Kobe when he wore the Crazy Eights\nAll y\u2019all niggas looking like my kiddos wearing Bape\nShot my first video in the Harajuku store\nWith Nigo in the background, that's a picture that you can\u2019t take\nYeah with Hype Williams directing each take\nAnd GOD directing each step that we take\nI\u2019m a king, a legend, man, you niggas ain't worthy\u00a0\n10 years in and a nigga still under 30\nI\u2019m feeling like an old man that failed at life\nGot reincarnated to do it all again right (that's how I feel)\nSo I\u2019m treating every second like it's an investment\u00a0\nTime is money, every second I\u2019m collecting\u00a0\nDon\u2019t ask me no stupid questions\u00a0\n\"Are you still signed to YE?\" questions, no Roc nation questions\u00a0\nOr who I\u2019m dating questions, look, no more interviews\u00a0\nUnless you wanna talk about the music or something that has a different view\nAnd not the shit that's getting the hits and views\nWords misconstrued with no credit, but you niggas approved\nMy mistakes are my biggest professors and learning life lessons\u00a0\nI realize it ain\u2019t what you have, it's what you feel, that's what true success is\nI am the one of one, after me there's no successor\u00a0\nDON"}
{"text":"Yeah\nYou know a nigga don't really wanna take his cool off, uh\n(Boy, do it!) I'll express this, though\n\nShe call me early in the morning (Early, morning)\nWhen she\u2019s all alone (When she\u2019s all alone)\nI'ma take my time (Yeah)\nDo it how we want (Uh-huh, do it how we want it)\nJust to set the mood, girl\nI brought some Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay\n\nHold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up\nHold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, yeah\n\nShe love the way I\u2019m doing it (She do it, huh?)\nSo good she won't put my tattoo on it (Uh)\nBottom line is (Uh), you the finest\nGave you a new name\n(What's that? What's that? What's) My bitch\nHold up, hold up, whoa there\nLet's capture this moment (Boy, boy)\nIf I hit it then I own it, marijuan'-in' every mornin' (We on)\nAnd Patr\u00f3n-ing, girl, we groaning (Do it)\nBut that pussy got me feeling like a kid with the street lights on\n(Street lights on, on?) 'Cause you know I gotta go in 'til it's\nYou might also like\nEarly in the morning (Morning, do it)\nWhen she's all alone (Do it, I do, when she\u2019s all alone)\nI'ma take my time (Time, boy)\nDo it how we want (Do it how we want it)\nJust to set the mood, girl\nI brought some Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay\nSo just let the song play (And I'ma give it to ya)\nThe long way (And give it to ya)\nThe strong way (We got it all day)\nIt's our day (It's like this always)\nIt's our way (After a long day)\nThis was all inspired by a little Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay\n\nHold up, hold up, hold up, hold up\nHold up, hold up, hold up\n\nTalk to the, talk to the hand\nBitch, you talking to a grown ass man\nIt's, like, way-way-way too much up in your pants\nFor us not to make the bed squeak\n(There goes the bed sheets)\nEverybody rip the swag off 'fore I rip the tag off\nWhy my pants sag off? 'Cause I'm rapping my ass off\nFlow so ugly, money so handsome\nThis the fucking anthem, get it? The fucking anthem?\nAh!\nEarly in the morning (Morning)\n(Just did it again)\nWhen she's all alone (When she's all alone)\nI'ma take my time (Time)\nDo it how we want (Do it how we want it)\n(They say, \"Yeezy, yeah, he just did it again!\")\nJust to set the mood, girl\nI brought some Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay\nSo just let the song play (And I'ma give it to ya)\nThe long way (And give it to ya)\nThe strong way (We got it all day)\nIt's our day (It's like this always)\nIt's our way (After a long day)\nThis was all inspired by a little Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay\n\nI be saying, I, uh, I think\nWhen I know, uh, just because\n\nI don\u2019t really wanna, uh, talk too much shit\nBut you love it when I talk like I lost it\nAnd I love how you look when you blazin'\nAnd I swear you turn at least half-Asian\nAnd we about to have a liaison\nShe so cool, give head with her shades on (Whoa)\nYou should just go and throw a cape on (Whoa)\nAnd it's just so amazing\nSo amazing, so amazing\nTake it to the car, bloop, bloop\nThat shit look like I'm speed racing\nLeavin' with me, it'll boost your reputation\nWest side is where I'm stationed\nSpend all night, just champagne-tasting\nAin't no rush, girl, let's just pace it 'til it's\nEarly in the morning (Morning, yeah)\nWhen she's all alone (When she's all alone)\nI'ma take my time (Time)\nDo it how we want (Do it how we want it)\nJust to set the mood, girl (Mood)\nI brought some Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay\nSo just let the song play (And I'ma give it to ya)\nThe long way (And give it to ya)\nThe strong way (We got it all day)\nIt's our day (It's like this always)\nIt\u2019s our way (After a long day)\nThis was all inspired by a little Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay\n\nAnd this was all inspired by a little Marvin Gaye and Chardonnay"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsDeserve It Lyrics\nWhoohohohohohohoho\nWhoohohohohohohoho\nI feel like, I feel like, I feel like\n(Yeah)\n\nNow I be fuckin' with these bitches like they hypo-allergenic\nWomen are from Venus, caught in love playing tennis\nSome girls are the Lebron James of playing mind games\nAnd switch their home team up every single time their mind change\n\nDon't play no games with hoes, I play Nintendo DS, nigga\nAnd pray I don't see the end of my paper like P.S nigga\nBut damn in high school you had the fattest ass\nAnd now we out of high school, you got a fatter ass\nSwear I was just up on your Instagram a day or two ago\nSeen your ass in deja vu, that shit was deja vu I know\nReminiscing on the one time we smashed in the back of the whip\nAnd you gave me that head\nI swear to God that was the best night of my life\nI can't even sit here frontin', lie and pretend\nDancing with your titties out\nI know at first it was a little bit embarrassing yeah\nBut 5 minutes later you on my lap\nAnd we just kickin' it like we're the only ones here\nYou're telling me how you went down South for school\nDown near TSU\nBut you know business majors\nYou can't even get a job when you're comin' right out of the school\nTold her check the Valley, seems like out there they be hiring\nIn L.A where all the girls that look like you are aspiring\nA new scenery might just be inspiring\nShe said \"Pshh, man everything ain't for everybody, shit I'm good\"\nYou might also like\nOkay I came up how I came up\nA little change but I ain't change up\nA little fame but I ain't famous\nA little danger now I'm dangerous\nGettin' high now I'm the supplier now\nLaying low cause it won't fade us\nStill living how I'm living cause nigga I need to\nStill feel like I deserve it\nHow I feel like I deserve it\nStill feel like I deserve it\nHow I feel like I deserve it\n\nNow I be fuckin' with these bitches like they hypo-allergenic\nWomen are from Venus, caught in love playing tennis\nSome hoes are the Lebron James of playing mind games\nAnd switch their home team up every single time their mind change\n\nShe drop it for me, pussy pop it for me, take it to the top\nSpending extra time when she ain't got it, on me\nThen she turned around said\n\"I'm so proud, seems like everywhere I'm hearin' ya\nSeems like yesterday you freestyled in the cafeteria\nTell me how it happened? Know this ain't the place to ask\"\nWhen she said that shit I had a flashback, back to the past\nMan '07, LAX, first time in the baggage claim\nDon C picked me up off the curb, my bags in hand\nWas nervous as shit, knew I was meeting up with Ye\nAnd we riding through the hills swerve, swervin' and shit\nSeeing the houses on the hills like I'm deserving this shit\nOh boy I'm worth it yeah it's time to put the work in this shit\nOh that was back before I had the G.O.O.D. imprint\nHit the studio with Kanye, that shit was intense\nAnd he said \"Boy you got it, boy you is a prophet\"\nSigned me, got a profit\nFew years later yeah we on and poppin'\nAnd I got a crib off in the same hills we used to drive in\nBrr Brr, call up Don C he was the first to know about it\nAlmost went to TSU with Alesha then I dropped it\nFuck it, I guess everything ain't for everybody\nOh boy, swerve\nOkay I came up how I came up\nA little change but I ain't change up\nA little fame but I ain't famous\nA little danger now I'm dangerous\nGettin' high now I'm the supplier now\nLaying low cause it won't fade us\nStill living how I'm living cause nigga I need to\nStill feel like I deserve it\nHow I feel like I deserve it\nStill feel like I deserve it\nHow I feel like I deserve it\nStill feel like I deserve it\nStill feel like I deserve it\nStill feel like I deserve it\nStill feel like I deserve it"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsOwe Me Lyrics\nAll that shit you told me, I believed\nThe smile on your face the only thing I can't read\nLeft and now you back inside my life\nIt's gon' take more than that to set it right though\nCause, you so, fuckin', outta, line\nFor ever, letting, them taste what's mine\nTaste what's mine, taste what's mine\nYou so, fuckin', outta, line\n\nFeel like you owe me checks, owe me time, owe me sex\nLong nights, no reply, I got no regrets\nYou disrespect, disrespect, only time I seen you now's on the internet\nJust to see if it's somebody else that you tied to\nI hit you back when I decide to, you got my tattoo, we was tribal\nThen you left and we turned rivals, now you back it's our revival\nThey don't make you feel like I do, they didn't make you perform for me\nYou was my American Idol how you rocked the mic\nMan, we went from long text, now they shorter than a haiku\nSeems like all you got is hate for me\nAll you ever did was take from me\nCause you know you got that walk from me\nHow you dress and how you talk from me, yeah\nLet's not ever disrespect what I meant to ya\nIt took us being over to see all I did for ya, damn\nYou might also like\nAll that shit you told me, I believed\nThe smile on your face the only thing I can't read\nLeft and now you back inside my life\nIt's gonna take more than that to set it right though\nCause, you so, fuckin', outta, line\nForever, letting, them taste what's mine\nTaste what's mine, taste what's mine\nYou so, fuckin', outta, line\n\nI'm just trying to let the past pass\nAin't no future in that, yeah\nI stay 100 like my dash, yeah\nHave you cummin' faster than The Flash, yeah\nIs it all mine, all mine? You know me, I had to ask\nCan I hit it like I crash? Sipping pinot by the glass, glass\nHonestly, I had to take the time to let my ego go\nRealized that that held us back and back's not where we need to go\nThis don't replace what you did to me\nThis don't replace what I did to you\nSometimes it ain't about what we did or didn't do\nIt's about what we getting through\nLook, I'm not tryna play the blame game\nPoint the fingers while we skip the point\nKnowing that we both want the same thing\nRiding for each other even if we gotta change lanes\nIf we don't work it out, shame shame\nI can't touch these hoes I can't trust, I don't wanna have a fake us\nBut all that shit you told me, I believed\nThe smile on your face the only thing I can't read\nLeft and now you back inside my life\nIt's gon' take more than that to set it right though\nCause, you so, fuckin', outta, line\nForever, letting, them taste what's mine\nTaste what's mine, taste what's mine\nYou so, fuckin', outta, line\n\nMy friends say I should be over you\nGetting hurt every time I'm close to you\nI think me and you are overdue\nI think this is what we supposed to do\nCause, you so, fuckin', outta, line\nForever, letting, them taste what's mine\nTaste what's mine, taste what's mine\nYou so, fuckin', outta, line\n\nNigga, you know what's about to go down when you walk out that door\nMan, I hope these niggas not out here man, fuck\nBig Sean, boy, swerve\nI don't...with you\nOk, we see you\nNew girl, new car\nLamborghini Mercy, ok we feel it\nAyy, is this the- is this like the real thing this time with this one?\nOr is this another one of those flings?\nLike, you gonna bring her home to mom\nDoes mom know about this one?We know you're close with your mom\nWhat you say about animal cruelty?\nLike do you think they should have shot Harambe or like what?\nI mean do you think he was going to maul the kid?\nWe seen you in the furs man, don't lie"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsResearch Lyrics\nAh-huh\nAh-huh\nWhoa\nThese hoes be doin' research\nI swear, she like:\n\"This piece of hair off in the sink ain't come from me first, no, no\"\n\nThe way you stressin' got me blowin' indo outdoor\nEvery time you intro that's my cue to outro\nAnd I know all my niggas call you crazy, you just misunderstood, though\nThrough all the evil in your eyes swear I can still see the good, though\nBut you unlockin' my cell like you is a cop, how you decode\nAll my V-mails, G-mails even P.O. boxes got me P.O.\u2019d\nYou saw my emails with CeCe when you wasn't CC'd\nI'm on my way to halfway, my baby, I need you to meet me (straight up)\nYou, you talkin' 'bout I had the key to your heart\nThen I got my first European, you took that key then you keyed it\nWhat type of shit do we be in? Blowin' up TNT'n'\nHella drama, TMZ'n, bitch, I'm leavin' then she switched the shit like\n\nWhat you got to hide, hide, hide, hide? (uh-huh)\nLying next to me at night, night, night, night (uh-huh)\nYou text me all the time, time, time, time (whoa)\nSee, I know what you like, like I did the last time (whoa)\nDo you remember?\nDo you remember?\nDo you remember?\nWhen you had nothing to hide, hide, hide, hide?\n\nWatch out, these ho's be doin' research\nI swear, she like:\n\"This piece of hair off in the sink ain't come from me first, no, no\"\nI swear (God)\nYou hang around too goddamn long, it's like you need work\nDo ya, do ya, do ya got a job, I mean, for real\nI swear (oh God)\nMan, these ho's be doin' research, doin' research\nWatch out, these girls be doin' research\n\nOkay, I know you did some research\nWell shit, I did too\nI saw you wearin' Drake's chain, like you were part of his crew\nI saw you chillin' with Meek Mill up at the Summer Jam, ooo\nI hope my eyes the one that\u2019s lyin' to me girl and not you\nI know we all got a past, but there's shit that I can't pass\nSeein' you at the Soho House, I know you can't afford that tab\nWhen I run into Chris Brown and he laugh, 'cause he know\nWhat you know, what I don't, it make me feel like I don't know your ass\nNow you saying shit like\nYou might also like\nWhat you got to hide, hide, hide, hide? (uh-huh)\nLying next to me at night, night, night, night (uh-huh)\nYou text me all the time, time, time, time (whoa)\nSee, I know what you like, like I did the last time (whoa)\n\nDo you remember?\nDo you remember?\nDo you remember?\nWhen you had nothing to hide, hide, hide, hide?\n\nWatch out, these hoes be doin' research\nI swear, she like:\n\"This piece of hair off in the sink ain't come from me first, no, no\"\nI swear\nYou hang around too goddamn long, it's like you need work\nDo ya, do ya, do ya got a job, I mean, for real\nI swear\nMan, these ho's be doin' research, doin' research\nWatch out, these girls be doin' research"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsSingle Again Lyrics\nYeah, what happens when it's too good to throw away?\nYou either let it go bad or go away\n(I need to pray)\n\nTake my time (Part two), take my time, I'ma take my time\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na (Look)\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na (Uh)\n\nI'm single again (Single again)\nTold her we'll be better off friends (Uh)\nBaby, I should just focus on me (On me)\nAnd slow down, don't rush romance\nI'm single again (Single again)\nTold 'em that we better off friends (Off friends)\nBlaming you is just so easy (Woah)\nBut maybe the problem's me\nI'm single again (Single again)\nGuess that's just the way it's gon' be (Gon' be)\nMaybe I should spend this time on me (On me)\nMaybe I should spend this cash on me (On me)\n\nInstead of blaming all my old girls when I leave (What?)\nInstead of calling up these fake hoes that I don't need (What?)\nOld relationships turn to new d\u00e9j\u00e0 vus\nGot me feeling like, \"I don't fuck with you\"\nOh nah, nah, that's the old me\nYou fucking with the new me (Yeah)\nHonestly, all the disrespect had damn near ruined me (Damn near)\nAll the trust gone, seems like all you say is, \"Prove it to me\" (Straight)\nAnd you know I suck at lying, don't, don't do it to me (Don't)\nMaybe 'cause my mom had never worked it out with my dad (Damn)\nMaybe 'cause he had insecurities and she had 'em back (Uh-huh)\nMaybe 'cause single parent love was all I ever had\nWho knows? (Who knows?)\nYou might also like\nI'm single again (Single again)\nTold her we'll be better off friends (Off friends)\nMaybe I should just focus on me (On me)\nAnd slow down, don't rush romance\nI'm single again (Single again)\nTold 'em that we better off friends (Off friends)\nBlaming you is just so easy (Uh-huh)\nBut maybe the problem's me (Straight up)\nI'm single again (Single again)\nGuess that's just the way it's gon' be (Yeah, yeah)\nMaybe I should spend this time on me (On me)\nMaybe I should spend this cash on me\n\nTake my time, take my time, I'ma take my time\nTake my time, I'ma take my time, yeah\nEven if I'm late, I'ma take my time\n\nWhat have you done for yourself?\nWhat have you done for your mental health? (Yeah, yeah)\nI even tried the drugs and they didn't help\nShort term fix, that breaks everything else (Oh, oh)\nAnd my bros keep throwing me these random girls in stallions\nI need the best advice, went across the street to Khaled (Oh)\nHe said the major key is to be strong on your own\nLose your other half, you're never off balance (Oh)\nLookin' for the love in somebody else\nThat I probably should've gave to myself\nCycles I need to break in myself\nIf I'm alone, I'm second to no one else, so (Yeah)\nI'm single again (Oh)\nTold her we'll be better off friends (Better off friends)\nMaybe I should just focus on me (On me)\nAnd slow down, don't rush romance\nI'm single again\nTold 'em that we better off friends (Oh, yeah)\nBlaming you is just so easy (Oh)\nBut maybe the problem's me (Ooh)\nI'm single again\nGuess that's just the way it's gon' be (Way)\nMaybe I should spend this time on me (Way)\nMaybe I should spend this cash on me (Ooh)\n\nTake my time, take my time, I'ma take my time, yeah\nTake my time, I'ma take my time, yeah\nEven if I'm late, I'ma take my time\n\nYeah\nStay on this grind\n(Oh, oh, ayy)\n(Dolla $ign)\n(Oh)"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsLiving Single (Leak) Lyrics\nUh, yeah, look\n\nOkay I know what it feel like to be young and single\nYou know the life when your pockets got a bunch of singles\nYou know taking double shots, saying fuck a single\nYou know, hardly getting sleep but it' the fuckin' dream though\nLook, I know what it feel like to think you found the one\nTold mom that so many times that I'm sounding dumb\nCause she started to mix Ashley up with Tanesha\nAnd saying \"Hi Britney\" when I'm on the phone with Lisa\nFuck it, I got some new hoes, I mean some xxx girls\nPussy get wet as an s-curl\nThen I started thinkin' 'bout my ex-ex-ex girl\nAnd how it was the worst times but she was the best girl\nYou know, good girl, bad time, right place, wrong mind\nGot my mind right, hit her back, brrr, the wrong line\n(The number you dialed has been disconnected)\nMan, but before I started feeling bad\nMy nigga text me like, \"I got some hoes, hit me back,\" fuck it\n\nOh I could\nLet you down\nI don't know why\nYou keep my mind\nRacing again\nYou kiss my lips\nWhen you trip\nI'll take you anywhere\nI'll take you\nYou might also like\nYeah, let's get ahead, yup\nWe get ahead, that's right\nI know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nIn this crazy kinda world\nI'm glad I got my girl\nYeah, let's get ahead, yup\nWe get ahead, that's right\nI know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nIn this crazy kinda world\nI'm glad I got my girl\n\nYou be the momma, you be the daddy\nBaby, we could play house, I'll change your addy\nOr even change my palate and fuck with salad\nPut me in the picture, let's change your avi, oh, oh, oh\nCan't even stunt I was sprung from the jump\nNever got head while flaming up the blunt\nYou were my first, I'm just saying\nMore folks should try it, it's crazy\nFocus, selfish moments, on road, I don't have my share\nFlying out of town like baby don't mind my player\nSleepy arguments via texts while I buy my beer\nAnd the air so tired I forget to recline my chair\nPicture you in my head, a souvenir by my legs\nSome scuba gear for the bed, we do it 'cause Simon says\nAin't a single living thing that likes living single\nWe good over here, that's all that we know\nYeah, oh I could\nLet you down\nI don't know why\nYou keep my mind\nRacing again\nYou kiss my lips\nWhen you trip\nI'll take you anywhere\nI'll take you\n\nYeah, let's get ahead, yup\nWe get ahead, that's right\nI know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nIn this crazy kinda world\nI'm glad I got my girl\nYeah, let's get ahead, yup\nWe get ahead, that's right\nI know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nIn this crazy kinda world\nI'm glad I got my girl\nPink caddy, Pepto-Bismobile\nTing named Cali, that ass on sunset hill\nA beautiful view, unusual, I'm hooked on the real\nAnd you would be too, I'm pookie bout that coochie, for real\nOkay cool, I guess I love the way you\nNourish the soul, you know that ass look like a fuckin' grapefruit\nHitting them push-ups so when I'm up in that what's up, what's up you get whooped up\nArch that thing like where I'm from, been on my brain, miss serotonin\nLiving la vida with my Lavita, feel like Ceddy\nLiberate your limbs eliminate your limits, let me\nYou feel just like lemonade on ice when I'm all sweaty\nShe said, \"Smino, boy I get it all ready\"\nYeah, let's get ahead, yup\nWe get ahead, that's right\nI know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nIn this crazy kind of world\nI'm glad I've got my girl\nYeah, let's get ahead, yup\nWe get ahead, that's right\nI know it ain't right if she ain't by my side\nIn this crazy kind of world\nI'm glad I've got my girl"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsStay Down Lyrics\nYeah\nThis is that-\nUh huh, where the money?\nUh huh, what, what\n\nMy whole squad in this bitch\nAnd they gon' stay there the whole night\nI mix that shit with champagne\nBeen waitin' on that shit my whole life\nForever me and my dawgs\nYeah, nigga, you know right\nYeah, yeah, you know right\nYeah, yeah, you know right\nMy whole squad in this bitch\nAnd they gon' stay there the whole night\nI mix that shit with champagne\nBeen waitin' on that shit my whole life\nForever me and my dawgs\nYeah, nigga, you know right\nYeah, yeah, you know right\nYeah, yeah, you know right\n\nAnd they always stay down, down, down, down\nDown, down, down, down, down, down\nThis for my dawgs, for my dawgs, man, that always stay\nDown, down, down, down, down, down, down\nWeed, money, liquor\nI'mma drown, drown, drown, drown, drown, drown, drown\nYou might also like\nOkay, I ain't that fucked up, but I'm halfway\nWe came a long way from the alley\nBad, bad, bad bitches they dressed up\nLike it's the NBA draft day\nAnd I bet and I bet that she ain't gon' be that late\nFor a young, sexy face like me\nA young, young, young, sexy face like me\nShe like girls if she don't like me\nAnd if you do then I do girl, I see ya, I see ya\nThe way that you pose I might have to IG ya\nSexy young thing, I might have to ID her\nOoh, damn I got some ideas\nWe could fuck up the couch in the club like it came from Ikea\nGoin' so hard the whole night is a blur\nOlder women be like, \"damn, you mature\"\nI say you the one, but goddamn I got nerve\n\nMy whole squad in this bitch\nAnd they gon' stay there the whole night\nI mix that shit with champagne\nBeen waitin' on that shit my whole life\nForever me and my dawgs\nYeah, nigga, you know right\nYeah, yeah, you know right\nYeah, yeah, you know\nAnd they always stay down, down, down, down\nDown, down, down, down, down, down\nThis for my dawgs, for my dawgs, man, that always stay\nDown, down, down, down, down, down, down\nWeed, money, liquor\nI'mma drown, drown, drown, drown, drown, drown, drown\n\nOkay, I sip the kamikaze while I bend the body\nAnd I whip the Maserati like I'm Ricky Bobby\nI be mobbin', I be mobbin' like I'm Gotti\nI might even speak Italian\n50 women in the room like we ain't even got a lobby\nI be wildin' like I never had a daddy\nAnd the titties paparazzi, they be flashin', god damnit I'm a hottie\nGot her friends tryna fuck me and her man's tryna rob me\nAnd she won't leave me alone, I tell the trick to get a hobby\nI ain't even gonna lie, I got a million dollar chick\nWith a billion dollar pussy\nEvery time I cum, I swear to God I feel like I be rich\nYeah, tryna get that hotel money\nBut you know them crackers ain't gonna let you get the Ritz\nThey ain't gonna let you get the fountain in the front with the fist\nThey gonna give you courtside at the Clips\nBut never ownership, they ain\u2019t on that donor shit\nWell, fuck giving it to me, I'mma take that shit\nForget crackin' the code, I'mma break that shit\nI'mma calamari steak that shit\nAnd cop so much ice, me and my dogs gonna skate that shit\nBitch do it so big you can't escape that shit\nHoes tryna have my baby just to Ricki Lake that shit\nI hate that shit\nGirls handing me their heart, how could I not break that shit?\nMy whole squad in this bitch\nAnd they gon' stay there the whole night\nI mix that shit with champagne\nBeen waitin' on that shit my whole life\nForever me and my dawgs\nYeah, nigga, you know right\nYeah, yeah, you know right\nYeah, yeah, you know right\n\nAnd they always stay down, down, down, down\nDown, down, down, down, down, down\nThis for my dawgs, for my dawgs, man, that always stay\nDown, down, down, down, down, down, down\nWeed, money, liquor\nI'mma drown, drown, drown, drown, drown, drown, drown"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsBigger Than Me Lyrics\nDo or die\nLook, all I wanna do is make the city proud, yeah\nWishing all the OGs could see me now, now, yeah\nAnd when you feel something you can't see\nBut you know it's meant to be\nYou gon' realize that this is bigger than me yeah\nBigger than me, bigger than me\nWhen the whole family depend on you to eat\nAnd at night you can't sleep\nYou gon' realize that this is bigger than me\n\nGet it, get it, get it\nI pray that you get it even if I can't get it with cha\nI pray to God you never let the little things in life distract you from the bigger picture\nEverybody in the city to me like a distant cousin, brother, little sister\nI see myself in the young ones\nWhen I look in their eyes it feel like a mirror\nCorleone all on my own (Don)\nCartier all on my arm\nAll I hear is sirens  and car alarms\nNiggas going to war with no armor on\nFirst time I seen a dead body I was 14\nAnd I felt the pressure\nLike if I don't get it, I might end up next to him\nI'ma take the dice and I'ma roll a 7\nSeven, seven, seven, 7-11 it's 911 getting called around\nThe hood America's lost and found\nWhere niggas get lost and never found\nAll I ever wanted was to turn these Gs into Ms and a Mercedes key\nGot it and I still felt incomplete\nThat's when I realized this shit was bigger than me\nYou might also like\nBigger than me\nWhen the whole town on their feet\nAnd they all just waiting on you to speak\nThat's when you realize that this is bigger than me\nAll I wanna do is make the city proud, yeah\nWishing all the OGs could see me now, now, yeah\nOhhh ya ya yeah\nOhhh ya ya yeah\nYou gon' realize that this was bigger than me\n\nUsed to want that foreign\nGot that foreign, now it's boring\nStarted touring\nSwear to God that's when I realized this shit was bigger than me\nFlex on niggas with a Rollie\nGot that Rollie with the shine\nBut lost my time\nThat's when I realized this shit was bigger than me\n\nI seen people in the same place 10 years later\nMan that shit pathetic\nGod talking to me telepathic like it only happen if you let it\nI can't spend my whole life looking at the same ceiling fan\nWhen I feel like I ain't got no ceilings man\nIf I ain't special why I feel it then?\nI gotta get on the road\nI gotta be the one chose\nI gotta come back and tell the greatest story they never told\nThis must be the feeling that you get when you know you close\nAnd you know it's a way in even when the doors are closed\nAnd realize this shit is bigger than me yeah\nBigger than me\nWhen the whole town on their feet\nAnd they all just waiting on you to speak\nThat's when you realize that this is bigger than me\nAll I wanna do is make the city proud, yeah\nWishing all the OGs could see me now, now, yeah\nOhhh ya ya yeah\nOhhh ya ya yeah\nOhhh ya ya yeah\nOhhh ya ya ya ya ya ya ya\nOhhh ya ya ya ya ya ya ya\nOhhh ya ya ya ya ya ya ya\n\n Well no matter what, I'm proud of you. Even when you do stupid things that I have warned you about. You must get that from your daddy. I'm just kidding, you know I love you. You listening?\n Yeah yeah, I'm listening. I love you too\n In a way I feel like I'm living through you. Sometimes it feels like I got another chance at everything\n Man that's deep you feel like that. I kinda feel the same way though sometimes\n Yeah\n With all the work that's goin' on I feel like this is like my second time doin' it so I know that sound crazy but, you know I just I don't know why I always imagine myself as like someone who failed at everything he ever did at life you know and I got to the end of life and just regretted it all and somehow, this is my chance to go back and get it all right. And when I wake up, with that mindset, you know, it completely changes my hunger, how I approach the whole day. I mean you decide to live your life like that then pshh, man I guarantee we'll live life to our best potential\n It's that simple. It's all about living in the moment. Period"}
{"text":"92 Contributors1st Quarter Freestyle Lyrics\nYou gon' have to kill me for me to stop gettin' it, feel me?\nStraight up\nGod!\nFinally famous, nigga\nPaper chasers, G.O.O.D\nMy girl the baddest, too, G.O.O.D\nI'ma just keep countin'\nI look up\nOkay\n\nI always got a grip, I never slip, I never panic\nGot my Rolex set Pacific, while I fly through the Atlantic\nAnd just like a know-it-all, I always got the upper hand\nAnd if I listen to you bitches I would still be on the campus\nBut instead I'm in The Standard, with a girl who got some standards\nGettin' head in the Jacuzzi and she claim she from Los Angeles\nBut she ain't come up for air one time, I swear she from Atlantis\n\nIt's so fuckin' hard to have manners since I bought a manor\nI never take off, I just take off her panties\nTo partially nominated, yeah, yeah nigga you know me\nHop on a song and kill with niggas, who just won all the trophies\nBitch I ain't playin' no more like D. Rose or Kobe, it's Kobe the beef and it's shrimp ravioli\nSean Don, you know me, my cash homophobic, I swear it's so straight\nThen I double it up like I cloned it!\nMy homie called me like \"Sean Don, look\nYou know I got a girl, like you, so my nigga this one's off the books\nBut could you hook me up with Ariana Grande?\"\nSeems like niggas just call me for the hook-up or to get up off the hook\nI'm back in this bitch like I'm parallel parkin' (swerve swerve)\nGet hit with that 18, what's that? Bitch it's two 9's, that's parallel sparkin'\nI look up to the stars and God damnit I swear I can hear them shits talkin'\nTo you they the stars but to me they a target\nShe said that I'm fine and I say that I'm gorgeous\nI'm livin' so lawless, I promise\nWe just landed, Bora Bora\nChampagne, I pour, I pour\nModel girls, old Kimora\nFuck more or less, it's more or more\nI'm stackin' paper, safe to safe, drawer to drawer, bank to bank, floor to floor\nTouch a dollar and them killas be door to door to door to door to door to door\nFace to face, Hennessy, case to case\nDay to day, I paper chase, amazin' grace\nI've been plottin' since '86, and I was born in '88\nSo what the fuck that make me?\nA young visionary\nMy secretary finna be a millionare\nImma call her military\nFinally Famous military and, I rep that, that\n'Til I hit the cemetery\nAnd I'm way too skinny for jail, ho\nSo I gotta stay rich enough just for the bail, ho\nI'm collectin' this change like I live in a well\nHeaven on Earth, I could get it through Hell\nBitch, we did it and did it ourselves\nSo now I'm presidential, my life, presidential, my wife\nResidential, the lake, presidential estates\nLike my homie Tone said, I could talk about my watch all day\nBut that's a fuckin' presidential debate\nMan shout out to SAYITAINTTONE and Jay John\nAdubb Da Gawd, Earlly Mac, Danny Brown\nOba and Boldy, Doughboyz and Vezzo\nTrick, Eminem, Royce Team\nEast Side, K-Dizzle\nDusty, Ro' Spit and the rest of them niggas\n'Til we come together, we all ain't gon' get it\nWe run the city!\nYou might also like\nMan, free my dog Juan, man, straight up\nLot of shit been on my mind lately, feel me?\n\nMy homie talked to me like \"Man why the hell you look the way you lookin'?\nHow you feel the way you feel\nWhen you got every architect in town\nMan, tryna sit and build\nYou got every girl that's in Detroit that's hot tryna come chill\nCause I just lost my nigga Doe B and a fuckin' Uncle Phil\nNigga, Ye layed the Blueprint\nSo I need hundred dollar bills, new print\nHangin' from my family tree, I'm a nuisance, millionaire\nFuck your two cents, you ain't do shit\nI'm a player, baby, I be wearin' zoo print\nLightin' struck like Zeus sent\nSometimes, to see the bigger picture, man you gotta zoom in\nSean cold, bitch where you been?\nMotherfucka, I've been great\nThis for the fans that say they love the album but they fuckin' love the mixtapes\nFor y'all, man I do whatever it takes\nDon't worry\n\nI always got a grip, I never slip, I never panic\nGot my Rolex set Pacific, while I fly through the Atlantic\nAnd just like a know-it-all, I always got the upper hand\nAnd if I listen to you bitches I would still be on the campus\nBut instead I'm in The Standard, with a girl who got some standards\nGettin' head in the Jacuzzi and she claim she from Los Angeles\nBut she ain't come up for air one time, I swear she from Atlantis\nFinally famous\nYou little fuckin' bitch\nAnd all that I just did, all my old shit, that's practice\nSo from here on out it's murder, nigga\nOh that's who you excited, oh that's the new nigga?\nHe's alright\nYou ain't fuckin' with me!\nWaddup doe Key Wane!\nAs the dynasty grows, sunshine's all we know\nDetroit, G.O.O.D\nWaddup La Flame, the homie Travi$ Scott\nKillin' y'all\nMy girl the baddest, my drinks the coldest\nMy team the realest, the trillest\nFinally Famous over everything"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsDeep Reverence Lyrics\nHit-Boy\nG. Ry got me\nLook\n\nFuck rap, I'm a street legend, block love me with a deep\u2005reverence\nI\u2005was birthed in\u2005a C-section\nHella cops and police presence\nWe\u2005got opps so we keep weapons, we on y'all block while y'all eat breakfast\nA lot of shots, we broke street records\nWatch how you talk, I got reflexes, watchin' your cheap necklace\nThen we slide out the East exit\nBut every time we get to fuckin' niggas up, TMZ catch it\nY'all still learnin' street lessons?\nFrom the mastermind, first you master grind, then your team catch it\nThis time it\u2019s for the money, I don't need credit\nAnd I'm the don 'cause the streets said it, look\n\nFuck rap, I'm a street legend\nAnd I'm the don 'cause the streets said it\nBlock love me with a deep reverence (Yeah, woah)\nAnd I'm the don 'cause the streets said it (Yeah)\n\nAnd I got pressure on me\nSeven days a week, it's game seven on me\nLife'll test you out, you live through that, that's testimony\nGivin' them hell, but how in the hell I got all these blessings on me?\nMost of the girls I know addicted to social media\nAll the time they put in, they could've wrote encyclopedias\nMama said it only takes one time to fuck up your whole Wikipedia\nAnd as your son, I can see the type of light that you see me in\nAfter what happened to Nipsey, I reached out to Kendrick\nIt wasn't even no real issues there to begin with\nLack of communication and wrong information\nFrom people fueled by their ego, it's like mixin' flames with diesel\nEnergy crazy, I realized that it's a two-way street\nWhat's comin' is goin', if it don't give you more, it drains you\nShould be a billionaire based on the time off I'm not takin'\nProbably why this shit with me get crazy and we lost a baby\nAnd everybody around me think I'm the one\nBut we all just one of ones, and I'm walkin' out the crib\nThey ask me where I'm goin', I told them, \"I'm going on another ten-year run\"\nNiggas is bangin' over blocks that they don't own, thinkin' that's home\nBoy, you think that's where you from? You don't really know where you from\nYou don't how deep your roots is or what your ancestors had done\nSo, God bless all of the sons and daughters\nWho knew they history so they knew where to take it farther\nAnd all the ones that stuck with me like good barbers\nLookin' at my life story, God's a good author\nNever was the loudest in the room, we move like ninjas\nAnd if it cost your peace of mind, it might be too expensive\nSo I can't give you everything that you want from me for free though\nGet you one shot in life, you might not be able to reload\nSo advanced, I need all my advances\nBro hit me up for cash like we didn't have the same chances\nMy dad hit me up like, \"Why I don't live in a mansion?\"\nI'm tryna focus, but baby girl keep holdin' my mind for ransom\nAnd that ain't how it supposed to be, this man Hov got to a B\nAnd his name Shawn too, I almost felt like it was me\nDamn, I realized all my setbacks were inside of me\nIn high school, I learned chemistry, biology\nBut not how to cope with anxiety\nOr how I could feel like I'm by myself on an island\nWith depression on all sides of me (Damn)\nWith a Glock seventeen right on the side of me (Hol' up)\nLook, I ain't think I had the thought of suicide in me\nUntil life showed me all these different sides of me\nToo many times I thought the reaper was outside for me (Ooh)\nAnd how the fuck it's people that never met me that hate me?\nI wonder if they understand that I meditate daily\nAnd feel like my life purpose is to give inspiration\nDespite the hit songs that there's just no escapin'\nThat I take care of my family and beat the odds that were deadly\nYou hate that, that just reflects your lack of succession, bless 'em\nIf it ain't Nipsey blue, it's Detroit blue\nThis that Detroit 2, I'm bringin' it back to my hood like d-boys do\nGone (Gone)\nYou might also like\nSo, the collaboration though, with Nipsey and who?\nAw man, I'd probably say Payroll, eh, or Tee Grizzley\nMe and Big Sean talked about doin' somethin' recently, too\nSo, you know, all of them, I'ma, I'ma tap in with all of Detroit\nFuck rap, I'm a street legend\nBlock love me with a deep reverence"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsWin Some, Lose Some Lyrics\nYou win some and lose some, I heard that my whole life\nI heard that my whole life, but that doesn't make it right\n(Okay, you got ahead tonight)\nMan, that doesn't make it right\nMan, that doesn't make it right\nHow do you sleep at night?\n\nSean, nigga you on, damn, nigga, you on\nYou was a millionaire but your niggas is still at home\nDamn, nigga, you did it, but damn it you did it wrong\nYou got time for that gig, but not time for the phone\nGot it right with your ends, but fucked it up with your friends\nI seen your ass up on TV,  touched up on them twins\nYou don't know about hard times, you clutched up in that Benz\nGet tired of fuckin' hoes then get to fuckin' their friends, whoa\nNiggas want handouts, and I only got two\nNow I'm on the phone talkin' to my mom like I only got you\nGettin' dressed up for court, that's a law suit\nAin't wearin' V necks, but niggas ask what happened to the crew\nNow I'm in court for some shit I didn't do\nCause of my nigga, knowin' my career could've been through\nSo when it's time to travel management say I only need two\nListenin' to them when I'm the one that makes the rules\nI'm just a victim of the life though that I ain't tryna lose\nThis the dream, I had a wake up call and missed snooze\nLately, though my family been too happy\nI just turned my mama hooptie to a new Caddy\nPeople thinkin' I'm rich and I wish they knew that\nI been signed for four years and I'm just able to do that\nWorry 'bout my next Rolex time piece\nMy nigga Tone worry 'bout our sis, Shanice\nWe supposed to be the role models\nNo wonder why she wanna smoke weed and skip college\nYou might also like\nIs this the example I'm tryna set?\nAre these the people I'mma forget?\nAre these the times I'mma regret?\nLivin' life wishin' I could hit reset but, but\n\nYou win some and lose some, I heard that my whole life\nI heard that my whole life, but that doesn't make it right\n(Okay, you got ahead tonight)\nMan, that doesn't make it right\nMan, that doesn't make it right\nHow do you sleep at night?\n\nOkay, you win some, lose some, break some, bruise some\nLife could be a test, multiple choice, choose some\nChoose one, stick with it, man, prove some\nSometimes the best teachers is ourselves goin' through somethin'\nReal life will teach your ass way fucking fast\nI always thought my last girl was supposed to be my last\nI got four aunties, two uncles, one dad\nOne mom, two brothers, and 200 niggas mad\nAnd it's only one me, divide it and do the math\nI'm the one that dropped out, got no time for the class\nHow am I supposed to have time for everyone I just said?\nI don't even have time for everything in my head\nOn my way to see Kim and Ye both tie the knot\nWishin' me and you were no strings attached, but were nots\nMan thats drama, drama drama\nSo deep that call each others mamas' mamas\nWe need a break I mean comma, comma comma\nI'm tryin, homie\nBut she always picks the wrong time like phones dyin' on me\nIn the bed cryin' on me, talkin' lyin' on me\nIt sucks to hit the internet and see you're lyin' on me\nFuck\nIs this the example we tryna set?\nAre you the person I'mma forget?\nAre these the times I'mma regret?\nLivin' life wishin' I could hit reset but, but\n\nYou win some and lose some, I heard that my whole life\nI heard that my whole life, but that doesn't make it right\n(Okay, you got ahead tonight)\nMan, that doesn't make it right\nMan, that doesn't make it right\nHow do you sleep at night?\n\nSee, the mind is a fucking trickster\nIt can fuck you 'round, but your heart will never lie to you\nAnd that\u2019s why people love you, Sean\nBecause you talk to them from the heart\n(Thanks, dad)\nThat\u2019s why you're magical, Sean\nIt\u2019s no mistake that you\u2019re where you are right now\nYou speaking that from your brain, but they hear you from your heart\nBecause people can see your bullshit\nAnd I know I\u2019m talking a lot of shit\n(No, you\u2019re not)\nBut I want you to hear that\nBecause I\u2019m a great motherfucker, man\nAnd I\u2019m very modest\nYou know, I am\nAnd I know a lot of shit\nThey know when you bullshit\nThey don\u2019t even intellectualize it\nThey feel it\nLife is a feeling process"}
{"text":"Uh-huh, is it time?\n\nLook, I spent my whole life tryna improvise\nI'm not saying that shit for you to sympathize\nSpent my whole life tryna find the light that's at the end of the tunnel\nI should have realized it was inside\nSo lately I been trying to get what's inside outside\nSo many people wanna see my insides outside\nI'm from that city four hours east of Southside\nWhere everyone outside, but don't fuck with no outsiders\nGoing up, with the ones I hold it down with\nWhole city got my back on some photobomb shit\nWhole city blowing up on some old Saddam shit\nBefore this, I was the one hoes tried to go to prom with\n\nYou know, take the fame, take the crib, take our cars\nNow we gotta take the train, hood niggas takin' chains\nSlavemaster take our names, 5-0 take the shot\nAnd young souls take the blame, man but they can't take away\nThe light\n\nNo matter how much they gon' shade you\nNo, man they can't fuck with the light\nThey can't stop the shine\nThey can't fuck with the light\nHell nah, the boy's that bright\nEven if you take away my life, you can't take the light\nNo matter how much they gon' shade you\nYou might also like\nGot the whole city on fire\nBoy, this the flow that got Steph Curry inspired\nThis the flow that got Lebron James finna rewire\nThis the flow that got my whole family finna retire\nFlows on flows, I might drown in this bitch\nYe found a pro, I guess I'm profound in this bitch\nMy dad from Louisiana, man the smallest town\nWhere if they know you're brown, they might hold you down and even hose you down, man\nSince I'm his son, I feel like I gotta stunt hard\nI took the hand that they gave me and played the Donald Trump card\nAnd realized counting money never feel as good as counting blessings\nAnd a loaded mind is more dangerous than a loaded weapon\n\nSo when they take the fame, take the crib, take our cars\nNow we gotta take the train, and hood niggas takin' chains\nSlavemaster take our names, 5-0 take the shot\nAnd young souls take the blame, man but they can't take away\nThe light\n\nNo matter how much they gon' shade you\nNo, man they can't fuck with the light\nThey can't stop the shine\nNo, man they can't fuck with the light\nHell nah, the boy's that bright\nEven if you take away my life, you can't take the light\nNo matter how much they gon' shade you\nDon't let them take away your soul\nNo, no (No, no)\nDon't let them take away what makes you whole"}
{"text":"Uh\nYeah, uh, that's right (Yeah)\n(Yeah) Uh, yeah, yeah, uh-huh\nI was raised by the wolves (I\u2005was\u2005raised by\u2014)\nI was\u2005raised by the wolves (I was\u2005raised by\u2014)\n\nI was raised by the wolves, ate 'til they full (I was raised by\u2014)\nRun through the night, playin' with your life (I was raised by\u2014)\nGo against the pack, that's risking your life (I was raised by\u2014)\nBetter play it right, yeah, you better play it right (Woah, woah)\n\nI got loyalty in blood, I do anything for love\nAnd everything for us (Us, yeah)\nDoing everything like everything ain't been too much (I'm too much)\nYou know my favorite time to come through for you is the clutch\nLast second, what a rush (Rush, rush), look\nI'm the type to talk to the stars (I look up), straight up\nThese ain't tattoos, these are scars\nMy young dogs will tear you and the witnesses apart (Straight up)\nThey care 'bout starving more than they do 'bout a charge (Woah, woah, woah)\nMe, I can't break a commitment (No)\nI done seen people fuck up the whole team 'cause they couldn't play they position (Play your position)\nTalking 'bout they didn't mean it, bitch, you know the road to hell was paved with good intentions\nI see myself in my nemesis (See)\nI contemplated forgiveness (No), I think I lost all my innocence (Yeah)\nHo, my life depend on this, this ain't no simple sucker shit (Woah)\nTry and steal and you get bit, that's what you motherfucking get\nI feel safer taking risks and I can't eat this on my own life\nPut my back against the wall just to see how much I've grown, dawg\nYou might also like\nI was raised by the wolves, ate 'til they full (I was raised by\u2014)\nRun through the night, playin' with your life (I was raised by\u2014)\nGo against the pack, that's risking your life (I was raised by\u2014)\nBetter play it right, better play it right\nI was raised by the wolves, ate 'til they full\nRun through the night, playin' with your life\nGo against the pack, that's risking your life\nBetter play it right, yeah, you better play it right\n\nI was raised by the wolves (Wolves), paid all my dues (Dues)\nAlways in the game and never played by the rules (Rules)\nTried to make me leave (Leave), fell down to my knees (Knees)\nPicked myself up and turned my back to the breeze, oh-ohh\nSpent a milli' on a Mille, mama look at me (Ooh)\nWith all these diamond chokers, man, it's gettin' hard to breathe\nThought that you were family, cut some branches off my tree (Wow)\nBut if you in my circle, know I'll always be around ('Round)\nDon't let me down (Down)\nYou said you'd die for me, well, there's the ground\nIce on my wrist, ice in my veins\nBut it's a cold, cold world, and you can be predator, you can be prey\n\nI was raised by the wolves, ate 'til they full (Ate 'til they full)\nRun through the night, playin' with your life\nGo against the pack, that's risking your life (Risking your life)\nBetter play it right, better play it right\n'Cause I was raised by the wolves (By the wolves), ate 'til they full ('Til they full)\nRun through the night (Through the night), playin' with your life (With your life)\nGo against the pack, that's risking your life (Risking your life)\nBetter play it right, yeah, you better play it right\nI was raised by the wolves (I was raised by\u2014)\nI was raised by the wolves (I was raised by\u2014)\nI was raised by the wolves, ate 'til they full (I was raised by\u2014)\nRun through the night, playin' with your life (I was raised by\u2014)\nGo against the pack, that's risking your life (I was raised\u2014)\nBetter play it right, yeah, you better play it right (Woo)"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsNothing Is Stopping You Lyrics\nNothing is stopping you\nStopping you\nStopping you\nI know I'mma get it, I just don't know how\nHeart up on the stage, body in the crowd\nParents always tried to keep me home\nBut I can't get paid from the crib, so I'll be gone 'til we on\nWhat's up, Finally Famous\nI had it on my jacket way back in high school\nKnow I wanted to be in them night clubs and not all off in that night school\nSo me and my niggas real life'd it, every week we did them cyphers\nAt the radio, had a crazy flow, man the city ain't heard shit like this\nI woke up early on a Saturday\nSaid I'mma cash my check and hit some ass today\nHit the bank, my nigga called me like: \"Go rap for Ye\nHe at the station, rap that shit that you rap everyday\"\nMan, that shit sounds stupid\nThen I hung up on his ass, then called him back like \"Fuck, let's do it\"\nI didn't even cash my check, man can't believe my ass pursued it\nI didn't even have no gas but somehow God just lead me to it\nLike, \"Let's do it\"\nYou might also like\nWhen I heard the songs he was doing\nMan, I knew he had to be on G.O.O.D Music\n(BIG! SEAN!)\n(BIG! SEAN!)\n(BIG! SEAN!)\n(BIG! SEAN!)\n(BIG! SEAN!)\n\nJust to think, last night I was in Venice hugging bitches\nThanking God Almighty, condoms were invented\nCause I had a yellow bone that could've come from out the Simpsons\nMan. who claim she never did it (Yeah right)\nBut under these conditions, she was with it\nThen I hopped up on that red eye when I finished\nI been gone for five hours, fuck, my head still spinning\nFucked the hotel up, shit she probably still in it\nGetting rest that I be missing\nBut fuck it I'm on a mission\nFlight delayed like 30 minutes, now that's the shit that I hate\nNow it's eight thirty, I'm officially late, for that eight o'clock spot\nI know the Program Director hot\nBut I spit a freestyle up in there so cold\nThat everybody in that bitch forgot, now I'm running late for sound check\nAnd I heard the line's already to the lot, walking out the station\nAnd that's around the time that I got stopped, by this shorty tryna rhyme\nManager said we ain't got time, but time to time\nYou gotta make time when it's time for karma to come back around\nI say \"Aye dawg, What you got?\", \"Aw dawg, Big Sean, thanks a lot\nUm, alright, it's that young renegade, man they been afraid\nTryna follow me get in a maze, Leave you minute maid\nUm, I'm like a young black Eminem\nIt's a riddle and I'm repping that Michigan\nTryna stack my dividends, get my mom a new crib and them\nAnd a bunch of synonyms about how he was living and I even let him finish it\nI mean I can't lie he was alright, but at his age, shit so was I\nSo I give him my email on a fly\nAnd if his song's good I'll reply\nTrick Trick: Hello\nShorty: Ay nigga, Ay trick, where you at nigga\nTrick Trick: Ay what up, whats good, whats up man?\nShorty: Ay bro, ay nigga I just rapped for this nigga Big Sean dawg\nTrick: What!\nShorty: Bro, haha, I just rapped for this nigga Big Sean dawg, aye\nTrick: Oh hell naw, what?\nShorty: Hey I ran into this nigga, but aye he cool as hell man\nTrick: Awwww Dang! Tight!\nShorty: Bet, He short as hell though\nBoth: Hahahaha\nShorty: But that nigga was cool though man\nTrick: Alright!\nShorty: Man just like how he spit a hundred bars, I spit like two hundred bars\n\nTell me what you know about dreams, what you know about having faith\nIn something you can't see, tell me how much do you believe\nWhat you know about feeling something, that you can't even touch\nWhat you know bout smelling something, that you can't even breathe\nBut when the world drives you out, and your gas tank is on E\nAll the faith that you had, just ain't all the faith that you need\nAll the faith that I have, just ain't all the faith that I need\nI'm sorry\nI know you're not my child talking like that. Focus on shifting this negative energy, into something positive. And the easiest way to do that, is to be grateful for all the things that you do have, for your health, for your family, your friends, all the people that care about you. You've got food to eat, you've got a place to stay. Ugh you know, let's feel good, let's get happy, boi! haha"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsDark Sky (Skyscrapers) Lyrics\nSean, it's good to be home, isn't it?\nI see the skyscrapers in the back, this shit is official\n\nI got a lot on my mind, I got more in my face\nIf I ain't going to get it that day is going to waste\nI'm tryna move in my safe like the safe was a safehouse\nI ain't going out to eat but these hoes stay on the stakeout\nAnd you know it's official when I go bringing that BAPE out\nI'm thumbing through the magazines like \"This the girl Imma take out\"\nImagine stuck in the D and you tryna find a way-way out\nAnd yeah, your music been bumping and you just waiting to break out\nAnd I've been waiting all god damn year, oh yeah\nI can tell that it's near but near ain't here\nMan, them bills is here right now\nI guess you shine brightest when the lights down like now\nAnd then they say it happened for me overnight, shit, yeah, I guess\nI guess it took ten years for me to be an overnight success\nWhat you know 'bout living check to check to living check to check to check to check?\nFirst place, no neck and neck\nTwo girls is breast to breast to breast to breast\nBlowing smoke but I'm a breath of fresh air\nYes, and I'm doing extra numbers like I'm Chinese\nTaking double shots like Siamese\nI'm from where crime breeds, her titties out like \"Sign these\"\nI knew I lived this life back when I was young and used to climb trees\nI should've known back then I wasn't gon' stop\nCause even then I was infatuated with just sitting at the top\nI said, \"I should've known back then, man, that I wasn't gon' stop\"\nCause even then I was infatuated with just sitting at the top\nYou might also like\nAnd I don't owe nobody in the world no favors\nI started from the basement made it to the skyscrapers\nI'm a successful nigga, I got shit going on\nI'm a successful Don, I got shit going on\nSaid, \"I don't owe nobody in the world no favors\"\nI started from the basement made it to the skyscrapers\nI'm a successful nigga, I got shit going on\nI'm a successful Don, I got shit going on\n\nBitch, watch how you speak to me\nI've been working all week and I know I need ZZZZs\nTryna get paid repeatedly\nJamaica or Cancun, now that's where I need to be\nCredit card used to be EBT, in the D though that's D-EBT\nI've been thinking about becoming a cop\nSo I can murk some niggas one by one off legally\nI talk that real shit, but that's why they loving it\nOne time for the city, treating it like it's the mothership\nWas talking to my dad though on some other shit\nHe like \"man, slow down with the girls you're fucking with\nIf they ain't a quarter back, there's no point of rushing it\nDon't make the same mistakes I made with your mother\"\nBut that's on some other shit, look\nI'm into risk and taking it\nI'm into making it then get back to making like I ain't made it yet\nThis the rehab for a workaholic, I been thinking bout shaking it\nI done had a Rolex longer than I had relationships, I'm embarrassed to say that shit\nBut I've been working on myself and that's the most important work\nEven if you don't get paid for it\nShit, call me the greatest\nDon't call up no favours, I call up my saviour\nLike thank you God, look at all we created\nI started rapping Biggie Smalls in the basement\nAnd now we headed to the tallest skyscrapers"}
{"text":"Bitch, I'm back and it's up, PSA (Woah, woah)\nI'm too fleek to take off all\u2005my\u2005shit at TSA\u2005(Fleek)\nI know we met today, but\u2005I'ma need that shit today (Straight up)\nMight go extra, extra, just so I could see they face (Hit-Boy, straight up, damn)\n\nKeep X's and O's and interchange, yeah (Ooh)\nHit three in a row, that's just a game\nBig rings in a row, all down my fingers (Ooh)\nI can't even hold my baggage claim\nTryna snatch you home, my Lithuania (Oh-oh, oh-oh)\n\nPass, do you mind? (Yeah) One of a kind\nGet you to sign (Sign), I took the fine (Cash)\nMulholland Drive (Skrrt), I hesitate and weave\nAnd hit that line, I hit more, say the least (It's lit)\nGot stacks aside, keep that for bro and peeps\nWith all the rhymes (Straight up)\nWrist eight and a nigga tell you, risqu\u00e9, lil' hoes keep tryin'\nBy the end of the day, my M's gettin' wired\nMy own rounds for every time we tried\nI'm sensei and senseless, same time (Ah)\nTwo drank, two cups poured up\nI'm insanely down, slowed up\nShe built round, butt bubbled up\nDon't inflame me now, go nuts\nI keep flame right by my guts\nIt was out, but now, it's tucked\nKnow back home, they proud of us right now\nYou might also like\nBitch, I'm back and it's up, PSA (Woah, woah)\nI'm too fleek to take off all my shit at TSA (Fleek)\nI know we met today, but I'ma need that shit today (Straight up)\nMight go extra, extra just so I could see they face (Straight up, damn)\n\nKeep X's and O's and interchange, yeah (Ooh)\nHit three in a row, that's just a game\nBig rings in a row, all down my fingers (Ooh)\nI can't even hold my baggage claim\nTryna snatch you home (Yeah), my Lithuania (Sign, oh-oh, yeah, oh-oh, psycho, woah, woah)\n\nLil' bitch, don't talk to me like I'm not me (No)\nGraveyard, up late, shit, I'm with the zombies (Up)\nGoin' insane, hard to contain (Woah, woah)\nCan't miss a beat, my heart is the same\nYou know it's flame if I'm in this ho with Scotty (Yeah)\nLong list of problems, long list of blessings (Woah)\nMakin' sure the first one never outweigh the second, yeah\nMilitary with the tactics, multi-millions, multi-facet\nShe like Prince and Michael Jackson (Woah)\nPurple Rain and mirrors dancin' (Woah, woah)\nSavage Fenty matchin' with the lingerie socks (Damn)\nDidn't know they made them 'til I took 'em off and I popped\nHer mama sixty, but look twenty-nine and that's a great sign (Woah)\nCould take over any tri-state without even tryin' (Boy, damn)\nAnd I'm prayin' for my exes and my enemies (Straight up)\n'Cause they gon' need all the help they can get if it isn't me (I swear)\nSuccess is a chain reaction, I'm the fuckin' missin' link (Uh-huh)\nIn the world where niggas would do anything for everything, damn (Damn)\nKeep X's and O's and interchange, yeah (Woah, woah, ooh)\nHit three in a row, that's just a game (Game, bitch)\nBig rings in a row, all down my fingers (Woah, ooh)\nI can't even hold my baggage claim (Fuck)\nTryna snatch you home (Yeah), my Lithuania (Sign, oh-oh, yeah, oh-oh)\n\nYeah, I had to reset it, my credit on venery and go 'head and vet it (Vet it)\nI'm pullin' her hair, talkin' shit in her ear, yeah, I got a lil' fetish (Fetish)"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsFire Lyrics\nTell 'em that I need more\nFire, fire, fire, fire (Yeah)\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nTell 'em that we need more\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nTell 'em that I need more\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nI woke up this morning, rolled a joint, then got to it\nDealt with real life shit, manned up and got through it\nI'm a real D-Boy, take a look up in my face\nNever did real estate, and still put you in your place\nI don't trust dog hoes, dog hoes got fleas\nFrom where they rock ski-masks and don't nobody ski\nEvery time I spit a verse, my city like \"Preach!\"\nNiggas thought I got evicted how my shit up in the streets\nB-I-G Sean, ain't nothing obese, but the feast\nSwear I'm skinny cause I'm always on my feet\nGotta hustle every second, stacking paper every week\nBoy I'm in the field for real, I might run up in some cleats\nWas in Japan so long, I almost learn to speak, had to leave\nBack to the hood, where they don't understand unless you speak in Trapanese\nIf I fall down, bet I only trampoline, bounce back\nBack on my feet, that's just how I be\nI be out of town repping valid as an absentee\nLord, jeeze, jealous motherfuckers trying to absent me\nFuck these niggas up, now it's absent teeth\nTrying to pass on me, when I'm first place in the Playoffs bitch\nI'm even working half days on my day off bitch\nSay it's gon kill me fuck it, I work graveyard shifts\n'Long as that weed and money chilling in the pile\nBitch, I need that fucking fire\nYou might also like\nTell 'em that I need more\nFire, fire, fire, fire (Yeah)\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nTell 'em that we need more\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nTell 'em that I need more\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nFire, fire, fire, fire\n\nRight now, right now, right now\nI know it's been a long, long\nIt's been a long, long time\nA long time, I know it's been a long, long time\nI woke up this morning, rolled a joint, then got to it\nCan do anything in the world except not do it\nBought my fam new land, six star crib\nMomma feeling like she Jewish, I'm the motherfucking truest\nYeah I talk about my mom, but shoutout to my dad\nWould drive me to school every single chance he had\nTell me 'bout the crazy girls and all about his past\nAnd gave me the talks that made me to a man\nNot everybody got a dad but they got a Uncle Sam\nAnd he ain't came around till I made a 100 grand\nComing from Detroit where everybody say \"what up doe?\"\nHorror movie shit, cause everybody there cut throat\nWatch who you hustle with you might not get a cut though\nEven though you deserved a commission plus mo\nAnd grandma sad when she saw my commercial\n\"Stop having people at your shows that wasn't at rehearsals\"\nI\u2019m tryna to get a office at the Empire State\nTo bring it back to empire's plate, that's home\nMan, I'm reppin' for my entire state\nPrayin' that I won't be late\nWhen it's all finished at the endin', after all bottles spillin'\nThrottle gripping, models switching, chin chilling in my villa\nFucking like I tryna populate a village, I'm replenished\nI didn't do it just for the money, man, for the feeling\nI made it through the...\nTell 'em that I need more\nFire, fire, fire, fire (Yeah)\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nTell 'em that we need more\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nTell 'em that I need more\nFire, fire, fire, fire\nFire, fire, fire, fire\n\nRight now, right now, right now\nI know it's been a long, long\nIt's been a long, long time\nA long time, I know it's been a long, long time\nBut it's never, never been too late\nIt's never, never been too late\nIt's never, never been too late\nIt's never ever been too late\nRight now, right now\nI know it's been a long\nI know it's been a long, long time\nJust know that it's never, never been to late\nIt's never, never been too late\nIt's never ever been too late\nIt's never ever been too late\nDo what you wanna do (I know it's been a long, long time)\nFuck everything else"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsDance (A$$) Lyrics\n\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass\nStop, now make that motherfucker Hammer time like\nGo stupid, go stupid, go stupid\nDo it boi, do it boi, boi, boi\nDrop it, drop it\n\nWobbledy wobbledy, wo-wobble wobble\nI'm stacking my paper, my wallet look like a Bible\nI got girlies half naked, that shit look like the grotto\nHow your waist anorexic and then your ass is colossal? Like woo\nDrop that ass, make it boomerang\nTake my belt off, bitch I'm Pootie Tang\nTippy tow, tippy tay, you gon' get a tip today\nFuck that, you gon' get some dick today\nI walk in with my crew, and I'm breaking they necks\nI'm looking all good, I'm making her wet\nThey pay me respect, they pay me in checks\nAnd if she look good, she pay me in sex\nBounce that ass, it's the roundest\nYou're the best, you deserve a crown bitch\nRight on that ass\nYou might also like\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass\nStop, now make that motherfucker Hammer time like\nGo stupid, go stupid, go stupid\nDo it boi, do it boi, boi, boi\nDrop it, drop it\n\nOkay stop, drop it, drop it\nYou got everybody in here, oh my goshing\nBad bitches I'm your dada, white girls go Gaga\nWhen the sticks out they bust it open like ya ya's a Pinata\nBitch look down, tell me what's up\nGirl you talk too much, shut up\nI got that mad dick, you know it always nut up\nAnd it got an attitude, no wonder why it's stuck up\nPop it then backflip, yo gymnastics got me ecstatic\nYour whole crew look like a pageant\nI'm dropping cash tips and some taxes\nGirl you got me about to pass out\nI'm wondering if cupid gave you ass shots\n'Cause I'm in love with that ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass\nStop, now make that motherfucker Hammer time like\nGo stupid, go stupid, go stupid\nDo it boi, do it boi, boi, boi\n\nWhoa, white girls, black girls, tall girls, fat girls\nShake that ass shake that ass, shake that ass\nShake that ass, shake that ass, shake that ass\nShort girls, small girls, skinny girls, all girls\nShake that ass shake that ass, shake that ass\nShake that ass, shake that ass, shake that ass\nAnd I want all of that\n\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass, ass, ass, ass\nAss, ass\nStop, now make that motherfucker Hammer time like\nGo stupid, go stupid, go stupid\nDo it boi, do it boi, boi, boi\nGo stupid"}
{"text":"57 Contributors10 2 10 Lyrics\nI'ma be paid forever\nI look up, Finally Famous, nigga\n\nI woke up working like I'm Mexican\nThat mean I work from 10 to 10\nThen 10 to 10, then 10 again\nNightmares of losing everything boost my adrenaline\n\nAll this bread can\u2019t be too good for my cholesterol\nDon\u2019t come round talking loudly, fucking up my repertoire, dawg\nI can\u2019t lie bruh, lately I\u2019ve been stressing heavily\nI'm sipping, popping, smoking on whatever take the pressure off\nYou bitch you, FF Imperial\n'Til my burial, dodging every bullet and venereal\nAnti-fuckboy material, 'til I\u2019m dead, I\u2019m living proof\nIf you focus on what\u2019s in front of ya and not what\u2019s in the peripheral\nIt\u2019s gone, word? Boy I seen drama on drama\nDrama on drama, over comma on comma\nI\u2019m bringing home dead prez, my house done feel like it's haunted\nI put the city on my back, right along with my garments\nWent to sleep, snoring\n\nI woke up working like I'm Mexican\nThat mean I work from 10 to 10\nThen 10 to 10, then 10 again\nNightmares of losing everything boost my adrenaline\nYou might also like\nI got three jobs like I'm Jamaican though\nI need three wives like I was Haitian though\nOne cook, one clean, the other PMS\u2019ing\nNo hablo ingl\u00e9s if police ask questions\nWe don\u2019t know what that mean, nigga\nThey say Detroit going through the Great Depression\nStill it\u2019s been depressed so long, I can\u2019t even tell depression here\nMy homeboy still gon\u2019 pull up on them rims big as a Ferris wheel\nSo many rides up on the curb, my lil cuz thought the fair was here\nLike oh, I'm primo, top spot redeemed ho\nFor who? My team\nAnd we might take a trip to Jamaica, Montego\nPussy and flamingos\nGot me thinking fuck I need to sleep for? Huh\n\nI woke up working like I'm Mexican\nThat mean I work from 10 to 10\nThen 10 to 10, then 10 again\nNightmares of losing everything boost my adrenaline\n\nNightmares of losing everything boost my adrenaline\nAyy, lemme get the, uh, lil bitch"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsI Do It Lyrics\nI do it, I do it\nI do it, yeah, like that, boy\nBoy (B-I-G Sean Don, nigga)\nNigga, fuck yo' time, nigga\nI do it, boi\n\nI waited my whole life to be the man of the hour, I really can't lie\nI was the man when I started, I'll be the man when I die\nMan, these hoes take your money and I take they virginity\nI'm high, I split an O in half and now it's a parenthesis\nCrazier than crazy, ape shit, retardedly stupid\nI put that weed in the air and pass it, yep, that's alley-oopin\nOkay now, oh that's yo' girl? Well, I don't give a mass of two shits\nOkay, I'm west side, west side 'til I'm died and underneath them tulips\nYou bordo like Enrique, I'm too paid, I'm three-paid\nI'm looking like I'ma sweep stakes but I treat your girl like a cheap skate\n'Cause I need a crib, a big estate, I need a boat and that need a lake\nI need some salmon that need a plate, that need a chef so I feed my safe\nMy crew is who I'd be widdity-wid it, Ros\u00e9, I sippity-sip it\nI'm Quagmire, I fuck hoes, my cashflow, I giggity-get it\nOh, boy, I'm cock-a-mamian, the most zaniest, insaniant\nPulling up in Merced-iance (Ballin'), rolling up like I'm Damian (Marley)\nI love girls that's Arabian, Albanian, Caucasian\nI ride around gettin' cranium 'cause my dick is hard as titanium\nOh, boy, you had your chance and blew it (You blew it)\nStand aside and watch a real nigga do it, bitch\nYou might also like\nI do it, do it\nI do it, boy\nBoy, boy\nBoy, do it\n\nI feel like the world mine\nJust bow down, the world mine\nI'ma let you live, the world mine\nThis world mine, yeah\n\nThe one and only in this mothafucka (What?)\nNiggas staring like we the only one in this mothafucka (Do it)\nHow could you not know we in this mothafucka? (Boy)\nI got my haters looking lonely in this mothafucka\nWoah (Woah), I'm sipping on whatever I get handed\nThrowing house parties so crazy that my crib look like a campus\nPlay your cards right and I could blow you up, nah, I ain't gambit\nShit, I'm wasted-wasted, this looks like a job for Captain Planet\nNah-nah, good lordy, whoadie, I just took more shots than Kobe\nThe realest niggas is reppin', the baddest bitches promoting\nShe put that thong on my groin-groin and then it go boing (Boing)\nGot my fronter on her bumper, does it look like she towing?\nI hustle hard like I'm finna lose the crib\nAnd party hard like I'm finna do it big\nAll I ever do is big (So what?)\nSo all she wanna do is Big\nGirl, what your name is? I really can\u2019t remember\nAnd Tone breaking tree down, somebody yell out timber\nI'm up, up in them Kush clouds, lighting up like I'm Zeus (Ooh)\nBitch, stand back, watch how a real nigga do it\nI do it, do it\nI do it, boy\nBoy, boy\nBoy, do it\n\nI feel like the world mine\nJust bow down, the world mine\nI'ma let you live, the world mine\nThis world mine, yeah\n\nBoy"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsMula Lyrics\nG.O.O.D.!\nAfter God, after my family, I ain't gon' front\nAin't nothing more important than this success\nThan getting it, yeah\nWhere my real niggas that's gon' ride for me?\n(Free OCB, Paperchaser)\nWhere my fine freaks that's gon' ride me?\n(Doughboyz Cashout, whattup doe?)\nWhere my real niggas that's gon' ride for me? (Yup)\nWhere my fine freaks that's gon' ride me?\n(I'mma tell you like a rich nigga told me, Finally Famous nigga)\n\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nHallelujah, hallelujah\nPraise God, hallelujah\n\nTell the police I'mma stack this paper 'til I overdose\nWhodie holdie slowly back yo bitch ass up, you over close\nI overflow all over hoes, my niggas is over hype\nShooting up your Phantom\nNow they call your shit the Holy Ghost\nMercy, Lord would you please have mercy\nAnd protect me from the hoes\nThat when life ain\u2019t sweet, they gon' desert me\nShut the fuck up and stand up when you see me\nLike I'm the verdict\nThat's respect, now I got your wifey\nAnd you back to using that Jergens\nHurting, sipping, spilling\nTipping, for my niggas who done passed way\nCharge your ass a \"fuck you\" fee\nAnd make you pay your tax today\nI'm on a secluded island, swear it feel like Cast Away\nPut that money in my shooter hands, and tell him blast away\nI feel like getting paper is my destiny\n'Til I rest in peace, get money recipe\nTold my mom \"Get what you want\nThen just leave the rest to me\"\nAin't no motherfucking rest for me\nYou might also like\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nHallelujah, hallelujah\nPraise God, hallelujah\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nHallelujah, hallelujah\nPraise God, hallelujah\n\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nDiamond rings, hundred chains, Slick Rick the ruler\nI got cars, cribs all in my neck\nGot them M's all in that bank\nGriff, Blake all in that paint\nStacking bread, come watch me plank\nPray to never dying broke\nGetting cases by the boat, we ain't shopping, buy the store\nShorty snorkel for that crab, eating lobster on my dinner plate\nStacking all this money homie, tryna see that ceiling break\nMula ain't everything homie, it's the only thing\nCame from a hall of piss, straight to the hall of fame\nTalk money, we got it, fuck boy, shoot your stylist\nEating good, I ain't brolic, I'm just chasing them commas\nMy niggas ride that five, and my bitch a ten\nGot that China white, call it Jeremy Lin\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nMy chain, a fridge, deep freezer, and a cooler\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nHallelujah, hallelujah\nPraise God, hallelujah\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nAin't nothing more important than the mula\nHallelujah, hallelujah\nPraise God, hallelujah\n\nWhere my real niggas that's gon' ride for me?\nWhere my fine freaks that's gon' ride me?\nWhere my real niggas that's gon' ride for me?\nWhere my fine freaks, fine freaks, fine freaks?"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsSwitch Up Lyrics\nKill it, kill it, kill it, kill it\nI look up, I say I think it's time to kill it\n\nBitch I'm sexy as fuck, you ain't even gotta tell me\nI ride around to Pac, I fuck my girl to R. Kelly\nI tell her make me a sandwich, no PP & Jelly\nShe look back like \"Goddamn, what you think this? A deli?\"\nI'm screaming \"Hell yeah trick, Hell yeah ho\"\nThat shit make her love me more, and she know I love her too\nShe know I been to hell and through, I need what Reverends do\nPower of the revenue got me a 2 to 10 and a 10 to 2\nI gotta shine boy I be a star, on fire that's a meteor\nSo I'm either or on TV with a Rita Ora set your DVR\nStacking money face to face what that mean CPR\nEveryday the day date, gangbang major pain\nD-Town I ride around me and my dog like Charlie Brown\nJust trying to get that white money you know, countin' cake and KK's\nOn a day to day base, then vacay for eight days\nYou know muthafuck taking a vacation\nPut palm trees up in my house and have a stay-cation\nGetting paid while I'm chilling that's a paid-cation\nFull glass of champagne, Oh no, you can't taste it\n\nI seen cars (switch up)\nSeen Hoes (switch up)\nSeen Money all switch up\nWhen the days get dimmer\nWho gone leave you there and who gon leave with ya\nThis is for the ones that's always riding with ya ain't switched\nI ain't switch up naw naw I ain't switched up\nSame me naw naw I ain't\nSwitch up\nSame team naw naw I ain't switched up\nI think it's time to kill it\nYou might also like\nKill it, kill it, kill it, kill it\nKill it, kill it, kill it, kill it\nKill it, kill it, kill it, kill it\nI said I think its time to kill it\n\nBought a Cadillac, now I\u2019m Cadillac Com\nShe ride alright, when I'm riding right, Put Cadillac on that lawn\nMight even let her meet Ye, might even let her meet Sean\nMight even let her meet Push, she never meet my Mom\nChi Town is my town, I ride around like I'm lying down\nSouthside my eyes down, I'm the shit y'all fly around(Oww)\nI\u2019m in my mode today, sayin what the fuck I\u2019m \u2018posed to say\nMoving making money, got them trashbags back\nSmoke Chibahs with leaders, Pussy sweet and I'll eat her\nGot strippers and divas, plus some cougars and cheetahs\nOh you with GOOD, put me on like Bonita\nI said ease up, ease up, ease up\nAin\u2019t nobody fucking with my clique\n\nAnd all these bad bitches man, they want the.. (dick).. (they do)\n\nAll I care bouts my crew, my family and women\nExcept these women that\u2019s hoing, and these hoes that be stealing\nTrying to get them a cut, that\u2019s how you end up with stitches\nI tell a bitch quit playing, and play ya position\nEither move or get devoured, fuck a coward\nI be fresher than these motherfuckers head to toe\nIf I rocked Eddie Bauer, but I dont\nAura Gold, everything I do I do it overboard Michael Phelps splash,\nSmile for the polaroid, self-employed\nNow you shelf employed, D-Boy\nNever sold, but I still got more lines than corduroy\nAnd I'm with the same crew til I'm an old man\nCause there no such thing as new old friends\nI seen cars (switch up)\nSeen Hoes (switch up)\nSeen Money all switch up\nWhen the days get dimmer\nWho gone leave you there and who gon leave with ya\nThis is for the ones that's always riding with ya ain't switched\nI ain't switch up naw naw I ain't switched up\nSame me naw naw I ain't\nSwitch up\nSame team naw naw I ain't switched up\nI think it's time to kill it\n\nKill it, kill it, kill it, kill it\nKill it, kill it, kill it, kill it\nKill it, kill it, kill it, kill it\nI said I think its time to kill it\n\nRollin' with the same team I ain't switched shit\nRollin' with the same team I ain't switched shit\nI'm with the same OGs\nThe same old team,and you know my team\nAin't switched"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsMy Last Lyrics\n\nHands up in the air\nI just want the, I just want the baddest bitch in the world\nRight here on my lap, huh\n\nAnd I'ma hit this drink up like it's my last\nI'ma, I'ma hit this night up like it's my last\nI'ma, I'ma hit this ass up like it's my last (Boi)\nI swear I'ma, swear (Boi) I'ma do it like I (Do it)\nLike I never had it at a-a-a-all (Oh)\nA-A-A-All (Oh)\nLike I, like I never had it at a-a-a-all (Boi)\nLike I never had it all, a-a-a-all (Boi, hey, hey)\n\nOkay, now where that alcohol? You ain't even got to ask (Ask)\n'Cause I'ma drink it all like, like it's my last (Okay)\nShe a seven in the face, but a ten in the ass (Yeah)\nAnd she even look better by the end of my glass (Damn)\nSee, I just walked in fresher than the Certs off in this muhfucka (Look)\nI'ma need the baddest broad to twerk off in this muhfucka (Woah)\nI'ma go hard until it hurts off in this muhfucka (Go)\nI'm a boss, so you gotta work off in this muhfucka (In this muhfucka)\nAnd I can get you anythin' you want (Want)\nI could, I could, I could, I could put you on (On)\nSee, you look like Beyonc\u00e9, so do it like Beyon\u2014 (Okay)\nDo it, do it like Beyonc\u00e9, and put it on Sean (Haha)\nGrind hard, but got a lot to show for it (Yeah)\nAlways had drive like I had to chauffeur it (Skrrt)\nMy team's so true, we should get a camera crew (Why?)\nTo follow us around and make a show for us\nYou might also like\nAnd I'ma hit this drink up like it's my last\nI'ma, I'ma hit this night up like it's my last\nI'ma, I'ma hit this ass up like it's my last (Last)\nI swear I'ma, swear (Boi) I'ma do it like I (Do it)\nLike I never had it at a-a-a-all (Oh, no)\nA-A-A-All\nLike I, like I never had it at a-a-a-all (At all)\nA-A-A-All (Hey, hey, hey)\nA-A-A-All\nA-A-A-All\nLike I, like I never had it at a-a-a-all (Yeah, never had it at all, man)\nLike I never had it at all, a-a-a-all (Boi, boi, boi)\n\nNow I'ma fill this glass up like it's my last (Last)\nI'ma, I'ma blow this bag up like it's my last (Last)\nI'ma, I'ma spend this cash up like it's my last (Go)\nAnd I'ma make it last (Last), like it's my last\nAnd I'm gone (Gone), can't remember where I am\nBut she forget about her man when they tell her who I am\nAnd they introduce my fan, now she all up in my space\nAll, all up in my face, like, \"You remember who I am?\"\nSince I signed to Kan', I'm Louis Vuitton Sean\nUp in Benny Han Han eatin' all the Wonton (What's good?)\nRos\u00e9 rose over a little Chandon\nPut her hands down my pants, now she rockin' Sean john (Hahaha, damn)\nMan, I just ended up on everybody guest list (Yup)\nI'm just doin' better than what everyone projected\nI knew that I'd be here, so if you asked me how I feel (What?)\nI'ma just tell you, it's everythin' that I expected, bitch (Boi, boi)\nHands up in the air (The air, do it)\nOne time for the Westside, Westside (Boi, boi)\nLet me see them hands up in the air (The air, D-Town)\nTwo times if you love G.O.O.D. Music\nHands up in the air (The air, boi, boi, boi)\nAnd three times for the baddest chick in the world who got her\nHands up in the air (The air, do it, yeah)\n\nNow I'ma hit this drink up like it's my last (Yeah)\nI'ma, I'ma hit this night up like it's my last (Oh)\nI'ma, I'ma hit this ass up like it's my last (Do it)\nI swear I'ma, swear I'ma do it like I (Oh-woah, oh, do it)\nLike I never had it at a-a-a-all (Oh-oh)\nA-A-A-All\nLike I, like I never had it at a-a-a-all (Oh)\nLike I never had it at all, a-a-a-all (Oh-woah, oh-woah)\n\nBig ass bottles, big ice buckets\nI work too hard to be ballin' on a budget\nMe and my people do it big out in public\n'Cause if you don't do it big, bitch, you ain't doin' nothin' (Haha)\n\nAnd I'ma hit this drink up like it's my last\nI'ma, I'ma hit this night up like it's my last\nI'ma, I'ma hit this ass up like it's my last (Boi)\nI swear I'ma, swear (Boi) I'ma do it like I (Do it)\nLike I never had it at a-a-a-all (Yeah)\nA-A-A-All (Oh, no, D-Town)\nLike I, like I never had it at a-a-a-all (At all, do it)\nA-A-A-All (Oh!)\nA-A-A-All\nA-A-A-All\nLike I, like I never had it at a-a-a-all (Yeah)\nLike I never had it at all, a-a-a-all"}
{"text":"92 Contributors24k of Gold Lyrics\nYeah, G.O.O.D\n\nWishing I could wrap my whole life up in 24 karats of gold\nLately, I've been dreaming 'bout diamonds and pearls\nYup, diamonds and pearls\nAnd enough money I could rule the world\nIf I ruled the world, yeah, if I ruled the world\nIf I ruled the world man, it got me thinking man if I ruled the world\nIf I ruled the world, if I ruled the world\nI could rule the world man, if I ruled the world\n\nIf I ruled the world, I would buy it all\nI'm addicted to champagne and buying the mall\nI'm addicted to living life above the law\nHow much do it take to live above the law?\nI call my homie Ralph up, cause his car stop\nTold him bump a new car, come grab the car lot\nThat way you can have convertibles, and a hardtop\nOpen up a few doors, since we had a hard knock, life\nLike, open up\nWhere restaurants and legs stay opened up\nStart a franchise so my dawg can quit wearing\nA .44 up on his waist like it's his pants size\nAnd to my OG locked up bumping \"Ready or Not\"\nWho was just trying to do it big, but wasn't ready to die\nCop a first class wherever he like, with hoes already inside\nNow he can rest in peace while he alive\nFuckin' right\nYou might also like\nWishing I could wrap my whole life up in 24 karats of gold\nLately, I've been dreaming 'bout diamonds and pearls\nYup, diamonds and pearls\nAnd enough money I could rule the world\nIf I ruled the world, yeah, if I ruled the world\nIf I ruled the world man, it got me thinking man if I ruled the world\nIf I ruled the world, if I ruled the world\nI could rule the world man, if I ruled the world\n\nSeems life's never at a standstill, even in a photo\nThinking about the ex-girl, I hoed though\nLike would we have won it all, or would I have lost it all like Ocho\nThe things I think about the most are things I never know though\nLike, why don't schools teach more mathematics?\nLess trigonometry and more about taxes?\nThey at the chalkboard, teaching us ass backwards\nHow about preparing us for life instead of lab rat us?\nWith a mansion that's about five floors\nNo more sleeping on the couches, cause we got five more\nWith the fam that reminded me what I'm alive for\nAnd at the same time remind me what I'd die for\nA world where you wouldn't need sleep\nThat way we could catch up instead of chase dreams\nAnd finally get the speedboat my dad always wanted\nMm, I swear I feel it coming\nWishing I could wrap my whole life up in 24 karats of gold\nLately, I've been dreaming 'bout diamonds and pearls\nYup, diamonds and pearls\nAnd enough money I could rule the world (Cole World)\nIf I ruled the world, yeah, if I ruled the world (Cole)\nIf I ruled the world man, it got me thinking man if I ruled the world\nIf I ruled the world, if I ruled the world\nI could rule the world man, if I ruled the world (Cole World)\n\nIs this a dream? Well that's how it feel\nSometimes I got to pinch a fat ass to see if it's real\nI specifically remember, no heat in the winter\nNow I supply heat for the winter\nThen I skate to the beach for the winter\nWhen it comes to chips boy, nigga get a grip\nNo cleats I'm a winner\nShow love to the hoes and the freaks I remember\nHit the club and raise hell all week for the sinners\nMeet a young Dennis, the menace to society\nCheck my sobriety, fuck hoes in varieties\nShame that these things is the reasons you admire me\nBut, I'm getting dough man, these flows gon' retire me\nSplurging all crazy\nSwitching lanes in the Range swerving all crazy (Swerve)\nStyle on Nadal, I've been serving y'all lately, cheddar on Federer\nBall till I fall, et cetera, et cetera\nWishing I could wrap my whole life up in 24 karats of gold\nLately, I've been dreaming 'bout diamonds and pearls\nYup, diamonds and pearls\nAnd enough money I could rule the world\nIf I ruled the world, yeah, if I ruled the world\nIf I ruled the world man, it got me thinking man if I ruled the world\nIf I ruled the world, if I ruled the world\nI could rule the world man, if I ruled the world"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsDon\u2019t Tell Me You Love Me Lyrics\n\nI know your tears more than you cause I see them so much\nThat's what happens when you're here with no trust\nOkay, I lied, cheated, you cried\nYou done worse shit and I'm still here right\nAnd motherfuck your friends, all them hoes hating\nIf you're not down then what's your location\nI called and checked in every night and that was not probation\nThey gave they two cents and we ain't ask for no donation\nMan you on some other other shit\nJust found out about my other other bitch\nWent from I love you to you don't know who you fucking with\nFresh off a vaca' and already need another trip\nShe said I had enough tries\nOh, and I'm the reason that she doesn't trust guys\nWhat's the perfect girl if it's not the perfect time\nIf you wanna leave fine\n\nJust don't tell me you love me\nYou're gonna make it too hard for me\nI wish you were ugly\nIt wouldn't be so hard to leave\nCause baby I hate to love you\nI can't make up my mind\nCause right when I tell you it's over\nBy the end of the night I be right back in bed with you\nI be right back in bed with you\nSo don't tell me you love me\nYou might also like\nWishing I would've tried more, she wanted the truth\nTruthfully I wish I lied more cause when I was true\nAll I heard was \"bye\" more, \"fuck you\"\n\"Who is that\" and \"I don't know why\" more (Shut da fuck up)\nWe were picture perfect and I tore it all apart\nBut if I pick up all the pieces we could still be a collage\nFeeling like we ended too soon\nUsed to stay home and do it in all the rooms\nBack shots, I know what you like\nHad you hitting high notes and you ain't even need no autotune\nNights I was Patron'd up\nGirls dressed alike looking like they cloned up\nSame nights I wouldn't pick my phone up\nAnd you was thinking damn boy grow up\nAnd I could still hear her leaving\nCrazy when a heart breaks it never breaks even\nI even found another girl that's perfect\nAnd I'm the only reason we're not working\nCause what's the perfect girl if it's not the perfect time\nAnd if you wanna stay fine\n\nJust don't tell me you love me\nYou're gonna make it too hard for me\nI wish you were ugly\nIt wouldn't be so hard to leave\nCause baby I hate to love you\nI can't make up my mind\nCause right when I tell you it's over\nBy the end of the night I be right back in bed with you\nI be right back in bed with you\nSo don't tell me you love me\nSo don't tell me you love me\nWhatever you do whatever you do"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsSunday Morning Jetpack Lyrics\nThanking God for all my setbacks\n'Cause He the reason I'm able to get back\nThis feel like my Sunday morning jetpack\nFeel like I sent the prayers up and got blessed back, woah\nYeah\nFeel like I sent the prayers up and got blessed back\nThis feel like my Sunday morning jetpack\nYeah\n\nThis the feeling know that I been missing some days\nThis feel like I'm headed to paradise one way\nThis feel like the family dinners that we used to have\nOn Sunday with Grandma in the kitchen making rum cake\nOr the spread she used to do for Thanksgiving, man\nThis feels like the first time I heard Killa Cam\nPink Timb's, in the Lamb, mixing it in with Dilla and\nHeadphones to the ceiling fan, bucket hat like Gilligan (Yeah)\nLately, I been talking to ghosts\nDidn't learn faith in school but that's what I'm testing the most\nYou know I still rep you when you're gone, though\nI got a picture of us on the front lawn\nWith me, Grandma and Mom, that night I went off to prom\nWishin' you could see the lights all dijon and parmesan\nFunny thing about it, you always act like you knew\nYou told me I would feel it would happen before it do\nAnd you taught me I'm a product of everything I go through\nAnd you and Grandma went broke so we would never get bruised\nYou the reason that I ever touched my first Franklin\nFast forward, I'm in Kanye crib with Kirk Franklin\nIt reminded me of how we used to dress up\nAs a family and go to Sunday service, and be in church singin'\nAin't been to church in a while, but it ain't just 'bout how you just praise Him\nIn the building, it's about how you praisin' Him while you out\nYou taught me to remember that when I get set back\nBeen through the worst times to get the best back\nWishin' for a time machine to jet back\nTo my all time low self and throw me a jetpack, woah\nAnd see you again, needless to say\nBack when I dated Alisha, Simone, or any other\nGirl look like Lisa Bonet whose jealous of me and Jhen\u00e9\nWho you would always advise would be in the way\nYou was right, but I had to learn for myself\nI guess a time came for me to earn for myself\nI hope that this is somewhat a thank you for all your help\nHope the angels take care of ya 'til I see you myself\nYou might also like\nPraise\nSo many times\nI prayed for you\nI put up prayers for you\nPraise\nFor all the times\nThat you prayed for me\nAll the nights you stayed by me\nAll the nights that you cried\nAnd all the days I coulda died\nBecause of you, I survived\nBecause of you, I'm still alive\n\nThanking God for all my setbacks\n'Cause He the reason I'm able to get back\nThis feel like my Sunday morning jetpack\nFeel like I sent the prayers up and got blessed back, woah\nFeel like I sent the prayers up and got blessed back\nThis feel like my Sunday morning jetpack\nYeah\n\nELDER SEAN: You gonna let it ring forever? Answer that!\nMAN: Yo, she keep calling. Yo, and your dad left you a voicemail, and your girl keep calling\nSEAN: Ah fuck... I got to call her back. Ayy, yeah, pass it to me, real quick. Hello? Hey Ma"}
{"text":"Ain't this what they've been waitin' for?\nYou ready? Uh, uh\n\nI used to pray for times like this, to rhyme like this\nSo I had to grind like that to shine like this\nAnd the matter of time I spent on some locked-up shit\nIn the back of the paddy wagon, cuffs locked on wrists\nSeen my dreams unfold, nightmares come true\nIt was time to marry the game and I said, \"Yeah, I do\"\nIf you want it you gotta see it with a clear-eyed view\nGot a shorty, she tryna bless me like I said achoo\nLike a nigga sneezed, nigga please, 'fore them triggers squeeze\nI'm gettin' cream, never let them hoes get in between\nOf what we started, lil' nigga but I'm lion-hearted\nThey love me when I was stuck and they hated when I departed\nI go and get it regardless, draw it like I'm an artist\nNo crawlin', went straight to walkin', with foreigns in my garages\nAll foreign bitches m\u00e9nagin', fuckin', suckin' and swallowin'\nAnything for a dollar, they tell me get 'em, I got 'em\nI did it without an album\nI did shit with Mariah\nLil' nigga, I'm on fire\nIcy as a hockey rink, Philly nigga, I'm flyer\nWhen I bought the Rolls Royce they thought it was leased\nThen I bought that new Ferrari, hater, rest in peace\nHater, rest in peace, rest in peace to the parking lot\nPhantom so big, can't even fit in the parking spot\nYou ain't talkin' 'bout my niggas, then what you talkin' 'bout?\nGangstas move in silence, nigga, and I don't talk a lot\nI don't say a word, I don't say a word\nWas on my grind and now I got what I deserve, fuck nigga!\nMaybach Music\nYou might also like\nHold up, wait a minute (Minute), y'all thought I was finished? (Whoa)\nWhen I bought that Aston Martin, y'all thought it was rented? (Yeah)\nFlexin' on these niggas, I'm like Popeye on his spinach\nDouble M, yeah that's my team, Rozay the captain, I'm lieutenant\nI\u2019m the type to count a million cash then grind like I\u2019m broke\nThat Lambo' my new bitch, she don't ride like my Ghost\nI'm ridin' around my city with my hand strapped on my toast\n'Cause these niggas want me dead and I gotta make it back home\n'Cause my mama need that bill money, my son need some milk\nThese niggas tryna take my life, they fuck around, get killed\nYou fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around, get smoked\n'Cause these Philly niggas I brought with me don't fuck around, no joke, no\nAll I know is murder, when it come to me\nI got young niggas that's rollin', I got niggas throwin' B's\nI done did the DOA's, I done did the KOD's\nEvery time I'm in that bitch, I get to throwin' 30 G's\nBut now I'm hangin' out that drop head, I'm ridin' down on Collins (Skrrt)\nThey let my nigga Ern back home, that young nigga be wildin' (Let's go)\nWe young niggas, we mobbin' (Mobbin'), like Batman and we're robbin' (Whoa)\nThis two-door Maybach with my seat all reclinin'\nI'm like, \"Real nigga, what up? Real nigga, what up?\"\nIf you ain't about that murder game, then pussy nigga, shut up!\nIf you diss me in your raps I'll get yo' pussy-ass stuck up\nWhen you touchdown in my hood, no that tour life ain't good\nCatch me down in MIA at that Heat game on wood\nWith that Puma life on my feet like that little engine I could\nBoy, I slide down on your block (Block), bike on 12 o'clock (Rah)\nAnd they be throwin' deuces on the same nigga they watch (Meek Milly)\nAnd I'm the king of my city 'cause I'm still callin' them shots\nAnd these lames talkin' that bullshit the same niggas that flopped\nI'm the same nigga from Berks Street with them nappy braids, that lock\nThe same nigga that came up and I had to wait for my spot\nAnd these niggas hatin' on me, hoes waitin' on me\nStill on that hood shit, my Rolls-Royce on E\nThey gon' remember me, I say remember me\nSo much money, have yo' friends turn in yo' enemies\nAnd when there\u2019s beef, I turn my enemies to memories\nWith them bricks they go for 40, ain't no 10 a key\nHold up, broke nigga turned rich (Rich), love the game like Mitch\nAnd if I leave, you think them pretty hoes gon' still suck my dick?\nIt was somethin' 'bout that Rollie when it first touched my wrist\nHad me feelin' like that dope boy when he first touched that brick\nI'm gone\nWoo!"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah (Yeah)\n\nBaby, is you drunk? Is you had enough?\nAre you here lookin' for love? Ooh, ooh\nGot the club goin' crazy\nAll these bitches, but my eyes on you\nIs you somebody's baby?\nIf you ain't, girl, what we gon' do?\nIf your ego need it, baby, yeah, yeah, yeah (Oh)\nGive it all up for you right now\nWe got the club goin' crazy\nAll eyes, all eyes on you\n\nShe was the baddest, I was the realest (Ooh, ooh)\nWe was the flyest, up in the buildin' (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWe was countin' this money, lovin' the feelin' (Ooh, oh, ooh)\nLook at you now, in love with a hitta (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBut now it's all eyes on me (Yeah), and it all lies on me  (Yeah)\nTo say somethin' to your pretty ass\nSome hood shit, what you lookin' at? (Uh-huh)\n'Cause I'm good for that, Birkin bags, I'm good for that (Yeah)\nMight just be your plug for that (Yeah)\nYou might fall in love with that, got love for that (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWhat's your name? Who you with?\nWhere you from? You the shit\nChoose and pick, get the right one\nAll these chicks, you got to like one (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAll these hits, you got to like one\nAll these bottles, got the lights up (Oh, ooh)\nAll these models, got the right one\nWhat you gon' do? Hide or run? Woah (Yeah)\nYou ready?\nYou might also like\nBaby, is you drunk? Is you had enough?\nAre you here lookin' for love? Ooh, ooh\nGot the club goin' crazy\nAll these bitches, but my eyes on you\nIs you somebody's baby?\nIf you ain't, girl, what we gon' do? (Ooh)\nIf your ego need it, baby, yeah, yeah, yeah (Oh)\nGive it all up for you right now\nWe got the club goin' crazy\nAll eyes, all eyes on you\nYo, he was the realest, I was the baddest, we was the illest\nWhen he approached me, I said, \"Yo, what the deal is?\"\nIn and out them dealers, rockin' chinchillas\nI got him in the back of that 'Bach, I think he catchin' feelings (Yeah)\nNow it's all eyes on us, and this all lies on trust\nAnd if them bitches wanna trip, tell 'em they tour guide's on us\nThis kitty cat on reclusive, he duck, duckin' them gooses\nI put him on to that new-new, now he only fuck with exclusives\nHe was like, \"What's your name?\" My name Nick\nWhere you from? New York in this bitch\nChoose and pick, you got the right one\nAll them hoes, ain't nothin' like them\nNigga, you know you'd never wife them\nNone of them niggas ain't never hit this\nStill at the top of all they hit lists\nWhat they gon' do? Meek and Nick\nYeah, baby, is you drunk? Is you had enough?\nAre you here lookin' for love? Ooh, ooh\nGot the club goin' crazy\nAll these hittas, but my eyes on you\nIs you somebody's baby? (Ah, ooh, ooh)\nIf you ain't, boy, what we gon' do?\nIf your ego need it, baby, yeah, yeah, yeah (Oh)\nGive it all up for you right now\nWe got the club goin' crazy\nAll eyes, all eyes on you\n\nShe was the baddest, he was the realest (Ooh, ooh)\nWe was the fliest, we was the illest (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI was the realest, I was the baddest (Ooh, oh, ooh)\nWe was the fliest, up in the buildin' (Ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah)"}
{"text":"Yeah, views, views, views\nYeah, yeah, alright\nOld ways, new women, gotta keep a balance\nThe girl of your dreams to me is probably not a challenge\nI've been counted out so many times, I couldn't count it\nFunny how now my accountant is havin' trouble tryna count it\nTo the people that think that I owe you shit\nPayback's a bitch and you know that shit\nY'all niggas gettin' too old for this\nPlease don't think nobody notices\nI've been up for way too many days\nY'all sleep enough for me anyway\nY'all don't be doin' shit anyway\nY'all are not true to this anyway\nOVO, East End, Reps Up, we might just get hit with the R.I.C.O\nEveryone home for the summer, so let's not do nothing illegal\nI go make 50 million then I give some millions to my people\nThey gon' go Tony Montana and cop them some Shaq at the free throws\nBut they're from the way fam, there's not much to say fam\nThey told me to tell you you mans are some wastemans\nAnd stay in your place fam\nMy dad is from Memphis, and I am the king\nI should probably just move into Graceland\nMadonna\u2019s a ting I know and I\u2019m the king of pop\nI\u2019m building Never-Never Land\nHow he hate me when I never met the man, woo!\nYou might also like\nWe might just get hit with the R.I.C.O\n\nMeek Milly!\n'Cause we in the field with them birds like we play for the Eagles\nI'm on probation so let me not talk what's illegal (Switch it up)\nToday I woke up with my dream girl, she rich as a Beatle\nFor my teachers that said I wouldn't make it here\nI spend a day what you make a year\nI had to drop this to make it clear\nThat I got it locked like Jamaican hair\nAll theses choppers poppin', niggas wildin', violence\nWhy we even got to take it here?\nWhy we even got to play these games?\nRun up on me, catch a facial there\nIt's the Chasers, what you thought?\nI come through my block like I'm Rico\nPoppin' a wheelie, no squealie, can't talk to the cops, that's illegal\nI was like more a Rich Porter, no double-crossing on my peoples\nI take an M to the table and split it with my niggas equal\nI'm back on that hood shit, yeah that wish you would shit\nI'm talking that cross you that fade you fourth quarter\nLike Jordan, we back on that bullshit\nWe came up from nothing\nWe started on list's most wanted but now it's the Forbes list\nWe really was doing shit\nI can hear echoes from feds on this beat from informants\nI think they recording\nShhh, listen, you hear that?\nWe might just get hit with the R.I.C.O\nWe might just get hit with the R.I.C.O"}
{"text":"Yeah\n(Wheezy outta here)\nJeez, jeez\n\nBack home, smokin' legal (Legal)\nI got more slaps than The Beatles (Beatles)\nForeign shit runnin' on diesel, dawg\nPlayin' with my name, that shit is lethal, dawg (Who you say you was?)\nDon Corleone\nTrust me, at the top it isn't lonely (Strapped)\nEverybody actin' like they know me, dawg\nDon't just say you're down, you gotta show me (What you gotta do?)\nBring the clip back empty (It's empty)\nYou asked to see the boss, so they sent me, dawg (Sent me, dawg)\nI just broke her off with a 10-piece, dawg (10-piece, dawg)\nThat ain't nothin', I'm just bein' friendly, dawg\n\nIt's just a lil' 10-piece for her\nJust to blow it in the mall, doesn't mean that we're involved\nI just... what? I just... uh, put a Richard on the card\nI ain't grow up playin' ball, but I'll show you how the fuck you gotta do it\nIf you really wanna ball 'til you fall\nWhen your back against the wall\nAnd a bunch of niggas need you to go away\nStill goin' bad on 'em anyway\nSaw you last night, but did it broad day\nYou might also like\nYeah, lot of Murakami in the hallway (What?)\nGot a sticky and I keep it at my dawg's place\nGirl, I left your love at Magic, now it's all shade\nStill goin' bad on you anyway\n\nWoah, woah, ooh, woah\nWoah, woah, ah\n\nI could fit like 80 racks in my Amiris (80 racks)\nMe and Drizzy back-to-back, it's gettin' scary (Back-to-back)\nIf you fuckin' with my opps, just don't come near me (Get outta my way)\nPut some bands all on your head like Jason Terry (Brrt, brrt, ooh)\nRichard Mille cost a Lambo (That's a Lambo)\nKnown to keep the baddest bitches on commando (Salute)\nEvery time I'm in my trap, I move like Rambo (Extended)\nAin't a neighborhood in Philly that I can't go (That's a Fendi)\nFor real\nShe said, \"Oh, you rich rich?\" (\"You rich rich\")\nBitch, I graduated, call me \"Big Fish\" (Marlin)\nI got Lori Harvey on my wish list (That's Lori)\nThat's the only thing I want for Christmas (True story, uh)\nI've been had my way out here, yeah, know that's facts (Facts)\nYou ain't livin' that shit you say, yeah, we know that's cap (That's cap)\nYou ain't got to ask me when you see me, know I'm strapped (Brrt)\nDC, OVO, we back again, we goin' plat' (Ooh, ooh)\nIt's just a lil' 10-piece for her\nJust to blow it in the mall, doesn't mean that we're involved\nI just... what? I just... uh, put a Richard on the card\nI ain't grow up playin' ball, but I'll show you how the fuck you gotta do it\nIf you really wanna ball 'til you fall\nWhen your back against the wall\nAnd a bunch of niggas need you to go away\nStill goin' bad on 'em anyway\nSaw you last night, but did it broad day\n\nWheezy outta here"}
{"text":"\nI just wanna know how niggas going to jail\nTelling on niggas, coming back home and it still being cool\nI just wanna know how a nigga on Instagram and Twitter with fifty thousand followers\nAin\u2019t got no money in real life, but still popping, I just wanna know\nI wanna know, if a nigga ain\u2019t really putting it in, but acting like he putting it in\nNiggas still letting it fly like it\u2019s cool, I really wanna know man\nThis shit getting different out here it\u2019s getting spooky\n\nNow when that shit went down with Chris, you wrote a check\nIn New Orleans wore my chain to get respect (you a fraud)\nSo what that tell me? You a pussy and a fed\nSay the wrong shit you know the shooters at your neck\nI just wanna know, if you ain\u2019t write that running through the six shit (huh)\nTell us who the fuck was Quentin running through the six with?\n\"Running through the six with my woes\nCounting money, you know how it goes\nAll the real live forever, baby\nAnd the fake get exposed\"\nNiggas writing for you 'cause you know you never did shit\nWhen I threw that hook out, I was tryin' to catch a big fish\nWe the type of niggas to tie your mother up (Woah)\nFuck your sister in the ass and hit your brother up, pussy\nYou really sweet, I call you buttercup\nYou fucking dork you changed the style because you studied us\nComing with the same flow\nSwitching up your lingo\nWe just want a refund, this ain\u2019t what we paid for\nEvery time that we come, we get what we came for\nSpitting another niggas shit, but you claim you king though?\nYou might also like\nI just wanna know, I just wanna know\nHow these niggas acting like they trill but really fake\nAnd people acting like it go\nI just wanna know, I just wanna know\nWas it Quentin Miller? Was it Hush or was it Detail where you really got your flow?\n(Milli Vanilli that nigga)\n\nMoney make a fake ass nigga look real again (For real)\nMoney make a sucker that told look trill again (For real)\nSays a lot about all the people that's feeling him\nBut I'ma show you bitch ass niggas what's real again\nHeard that other nigga talking we ain\u2019t get back yet\nLet\u2019s keep it short, nigga you ain\u2019t get your chick back yet\nAnd now she rocking with the chaser and now you missed that check\nYou went from Clear Port to boarding pass you miss that jet, hold up\n\n\"Cat, I got to take them off of here\u2014that's right\u2014I got to take them off of here, there\u2019s only one, and that\u2019s me, you understand?\n'Fore all that fighting, you understand? Sucka thinks he good\u2014sucka thinks he can whoop me, And I know he can\u2019t whoop me and I\u2014Hey, boy, the nigga whole style is chump, you understand? When it comes to me, you understand, let me get mines first. Then after I get mine, y\u2019all can do what you wanna do.\"\n\nYou know you fucked up right? (Hey!)\nYou shoulda just said nothing\nNow you're going to have to give me a check to stop\nAll I hear is platinum that platinum this\nMeanwhile I\u2019m on the carpet with a platinum chick\nI got a platinum rollie, platinum whip\nNiggas frauds I told the truth, don\u2019t ask me shit\nAll this industry fake enemy and rap shit\nIt\u2019s never really my style we got cash to get (Gettin' money)\nI really started from nothing now it\u2019s back to shit\nPuffy almost caught a domestic when he smacked that bitch\nHold up, let that bitch breathe (Woah)\n\"Yeah, this is called poppin' shit. There\u2019s no cut on it. There\u2019s no cut on it. If your feelings get hurt, you feel like, \"Oh, that\u2019s an arrogant little comment\u2014\" no, this is the truth and the truth hurts. Haven\u2019t I paid my dues? Haven't I weathered the storm? Didn\u2019t I weather the storm? Niggas is gone and I'm here.\"\n\nYou let Tip homie piss on you in a movie theater nigga, we ain\u2019t forget\nReal niggas back in style this shit is lit\nThis that Ja Rule shit and 50 Cent"}
{"text":"I just wanna thank God\nFor all the pretty women He let into my life\nAll the Benjamins You let me count\nWealth and health\nFor my family\nAnd lettin' me ball on these niggas (Yeah)\nAh\n\nNow there's a lot of bad bitches in the building (Amen)\nA couple real niggas in the building (Amen)\nI'm finna kill niggas in the building (Amen)\nI tell the waiter fifty bottles and she tell me say when\nAnd I say church (Preach)\nWe make it light up like a church (Preach)\nShe wanna fuck and I say church (Preach)\nDo Liv on Sunday like a church (Preach)\n\nBottle after bottle, drink until I overdose\nPull up in the Phantom, watch them bitches catch the Holy Ghost\nErrtime I step up in the dealer I be goin' broke\nShorty wanna fuck me, I say get on top and roller coast\nAnd I lay back, she go cray, fuck me good, but she no stay\nMurder on that pussy let her boyfriend get that DOA\nGet it? And all I get is Frito Lay\nPlus I'm on probation, when they test me I just pee Ros\u00e9\nCause last night, I went hard, peach C\u00ceROC, Patr\u00f3n, and all\nThirty racks on magnum bottles, I think I was born to ball\nLookin' like a million plus, fresh I'm out that corner store\nHater I be doin' me, you guys should be doin' y'all\nI'm stackin' money to the ceiling\nAll this ice that's in my Rollie I be chilling\nAnd I just made a couple million\nSo I could take care of them children, let's go\nYou might also like\nNow there's a lot of bad bitches in the building (Amen)\nA couple real niggas in the building (Amen)\nI'm finna kill niggas in the building (Amen)\nI tell the waiter fifty bottles and she tell me say when\nAnd I say church (Preach)\nWe make it light up like a church (Preach)\nShe wanna fuck and I say church (Preach)\nDo Liv on Sunday like a church (Preach)\n\nJust bought my niggas some caine, so much it came with a plane\nBought my niggas some dope, so much it came with a boat\nI just bought me a crib so big it came with a moat\nFor niggas jumping the fence I hope you niggas can float\nAnd I just hope that I'm forgiven for carin' 'bout how they livin'\nAnd loanin a little money and keepin' 'em out of prison\nI ain't lyin' in my verses I'm just telling you the basics\nOf growin' up with your friends and becomin the one that made it\nYes lord! All gold, man I got these bitches soul\nTalking bout these other rappers getting old is even getting old\nWorrying about your followers, you need to get your dollars up\nMe and Meek, young niggas poppin' like our collars up\nAnd good ain't good enough, and your hood ain't hood enough\nSpent my whole life puttin on, you spend your whole life puttin up\nAin't no telling when I go, so there ain't shit that I'ma wait for\nI'm the type to say a prayer, then go get what I just prayed for\nNow there's a lot of bad bitches in the building (Amen)\nA couple real niggas in the building (Amen)\nI'm finna kill niggas in the building (Amen)\nI tell the waiter fifty bottles and she tell me say when\nAnd I say church (Preach)\nWe make it light up like a church (Preach)\nShe wanna fuck and I say church (Preach)\nDo Liv on Sunday like a church (Preach)\n\nLord forgive me for my sins, I'm just tryna win\nAnd she a devil in a dress but if she knock I let her in\nAnd if she knock I let her in\nI have her wet by 12 o' clock, then 3 o' clock she wet again\nI'm screaming oh Lord, that pussy good, that pussy good\nI'm tryna hold on, I wish I could, you think I should\nShe got that million dollar body, shorty my Bugatti\nAnd she said she got a man, we keep it secret Illuminati\n(Got Patron on deck) And Ciroc all in my bottle\n(Push it all on her) She was on that Reposado\n(She take it all off) And I think I'll rep Serato\nIn this bitch I'm spending like I hit the lotto, cause it's a lot of...\n\nNow there's a lot of bad bitches in the building (Amen)\nA couple real niggas in the building (Amen)\nI'm finna kill niggas in the building (Amen)\nI tell the waiter fifty bottles and she tell me say when\nAnd I say church (Preach)\nWe make it light up like a church (Preach)\nShe wanna fuck and I say church (Preach)\nDo Liv on Sunday like a church (Preach)"}
{"text":"You know what free is, nigga?\n\nWhat's free?\nFree is when nobody else could tell us what to be\nFree is when the TV ain't controllin' what we see\nTold my niggas, \"I need you\"\nThrough all the fame, you know I stayed true\nPray my niggas stay free\nMade a few mistakes but this ain't where I wanna be\nBefore I'm judged by 12, put a 12 on my V\nTold my niggas, \"I need you\"\nStay up, I know these times ain't true\nReal life, what's free?\n\nSince a lad, I was cunning, just got a pad out in London\nI keep stackin' my money, I'll need a ladder by summer\nAK shots, niggas duckin' stray shots\nBeen a top dog, that's before the K-Dots\nCrackin' in '06, immaculate showmanship\nTalkin' like you Mitch, disastrous on the strip\nHoldin' on your bitch, coulda never sold you a brick\nWith them people, you never been on a list\nMona Lisa to me ain't nothin' but a bitch\nHangin' pictures like niggas swingin' from his dick\nWe so different, you thought these didn't exist (M-M)\nThe Megalodon never seen on his wrist\nI'm from the South where they never make it this rich\nGod is the greatest, but Satan been on his shit\nWalkin' the pavement, I pray I'm illuminated\nOver a decade and never nobody's favorite\nPot and kilo go hand in hand like we Gamble and Huff\nMy amigo, a million grams and we countin' 'em up (M-M)\nYou was dead broke, I let you hold a pack\nYou paid for it, but I fucked around and stole the track\nScreaming \"gang gang,\" now you wanna rat\nRacketeering charges caught him on a tap\nLookin' for a bond, lawyers wanna tax\nPurple hair got them faggots on your back\n(M-M-Maybach music)\nYou might also like\nWhat's free?\nFree is when nobody else could tell us what to be\nFree is when the TV ain't controllin' what we see\nTold my niggas, \"I need you\"\nThrough all the fame, you know I stayed true\nPray my niggas stay free\nMade a few mistakes but this ain't where I wanna be\nBefore I'm judged by 12, put a 12 on my V\nTold my niggas, \"I need you\"\nStay up, I know these times ain't true\nReal life, what's free? (Yeah)\n\nFed investigations, heard they plottin' like I trap\n20 mill' in cash, they know I got that off of rap\nMaybe it's the Michael Rubins or the Robert Krafts\nOr the billionaire from Marcy, and the way they got my back, uh\nSee how I prevailed now they try to knock me back, uh\nLocked me in a cell for all them nights and I won't snap, uh\nTwo-fifty a show and they still think I'm sellin' crack, uh\nWhen you bring my name up to the judge, just tell him facts\nTell him how we fundin' all these kids to go to college\nTell him how we ceasin' all these wars, stoppin' violence\nTryna fix the system and the way that they designed it\nI think they want me silenced (Shush)\nOh, say you can see, I don't feel like I'm free\nLocked down in my cell, shackled from ankle to feet\nJudge bangin' that gavel, turned me to slave from a king\nAnother day in the bing, I gotta hang from a string\nJust for poppin' a wheelie, my people march through the city\nFrom a cell to a chopper, view from the top of the city\nYou can tell how we rockin', soon as I pop up we litty\nPoppin' like Bad Boy in '94, Big Poppa and Diddy\nAnd niggas counted me out like my accountant ain't busy\nThat's five milli' in twenties, sit up and count 'til I'm dizzy\nPhantom 500 thousand, hundred round in a stizzy\nIs we beefin' or rappin'? I might just pop up with Drizzy like\nWhat's free?\nFree is when nobody else could tell us what to be\nFree is when the TV ain't controllin' what we see\nTold my niggas, \"I need you\"\nThrough all the fame, you know I stayed true\nPray my niggas stay free\nMade a few mistakes but this ain't where I wanna be\nBefore I'm judged by 12, put a 12 on my V\nTold my niggas, \"I need you\"\nStay up, I know these times ain't true (Run it down)\nReal life, what's free?\n\nIn the land of the free, where the blacks enslaved\nThree-fifths of a man, I believe's the phrase\nI'm 50% of D'USS\u00c9 and it's debt free (Yeah)\n100% of Ace of Spades, worth half a B (Uh)\nRoc Nation, half of that, that's my piece\nHunnid percent of TIDAL to bust it up with my Gs, uh\n'Cause most of my niggas won't ever work together\nYou run a check up but they never give you leverage\nNo red hat, don't Michael and Prince me and 'Ye\nThey separate you when you got Michael and Prince's DNA, uh\nI ain't one of these house niggas you bought\nMy house like a resort, my house bigger than yours\nMy spou- (Come on, man)\nMy route better, of course\nWe started without food in our mouth\nThey gave us pork and pig intestines\nShit you discarded that we ingested, we made the project a wave\nYou came back, reinvested and gentrified it\nTook niggas' sense of pride, now how that's free?\nAnd them people stole the soul and hit niggas with 360s, huh\nI ain't got a billion streams, got a billion dollars\nInflating numbers like we 'posed to be happy about this\nWe was praisin' Billboard, but we were young\nNow I look at Billboard like, \"Is you dumb?\"\nTo this day, Grandma 'fraid what I might say\nThey gon' have to kill me, Grandmama, I'm not they slave\nHa-ha-ha-ha-ha, check out the bizarre (Ah)\nRappin' style used by me, the H-O-V\nLook at my hair free, carefree, niggas ain't near free\nEnjoy your chains, what's your employer name with the hairpiece?\nI survived the hood, can't no Shaytan rob me\nMy accountant's so good, I'm practically livin' tax free\nFactory, that's me\nSold drugs, got away scot-free\nThat's a CC, E-copy\nGuilt free, still me\nAnd expect me to not feel a way to this day\nYou would say y'all killed me\nSucker free, no shuckin' me, I don't jive turkey\nSay \"Happy Thanksgiving,\" shit sound like a murder to me\nSmoke free, all of y'all callin' out toll free\nLabel rob you for millions yet you wanna put a hole in me\nSugar free, seasoned but I'm salt free\nYou lay a hand on Hov, my shooter shoot for free\nI promise World War Three\nSend a order through a hands free\nKill you in 24 hours or shorter, you can't ignore the hand speed\nOn god, it's off the head, this improv but it's no comedy\nSign I fail? Hell nah\n(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha) Hahahahahahahahaha"}
{"text":"Get it right Terio\nOoh, ooh kill 'em, ooh kill 'em, ooh\n\nYou ready? You ready?\nI don't think they is\nNowadays everybody wanna talk like they got something to say\nBut nothing comes out when they move they lips\nI spit crack for my niggas that be moving bricks\nWith they exclusive bitch\nSippin' on Amaretto when she loose and shit\nNiggas sleeping on me then I Freddy Krueger shit\nWith a few Philly niggas that be shootin' shit\nI'm like Dre, I wish I had my nigga Snupe for this\nOh, I grew up, I screw up a oz of crack\nThen I blew up they knew us before all this rap\nI maneuvered with shooters\nYou fuck around with me, get smoked like a hookah\nMy ruger go booyah, I do it for the streets\nYou do it for the nigga with the backpack\nI do it for the niggas on the corner\nTryna make a meal ticket with a crack pack\nHold up wait a minute let me back track\nHov gave you 24, let you have that\nMan you claiming you the king of New York\nWhat the fuck wrong with you nigga, step back\nHundred shots, aim straight at your snap cap\nEverybody want the crown so I snatch that\nHeard your gun go doo-doo-dooo-dooo\nWell my gun go blat-blat-blat-blat-blat\nWhat the fuck I gotta whisper to niggas\nTo earn my respect just to get to these niggas\nGo Ether, Takeover or Jigga on niggas\nOr really go 2Pac and Biggie on niggas\nWhat the fuck wrong with him\nLike really I'm sick of you niggas\nYou've been in the game like a year and some change\nAnd you feeling yourself so I'm killing these niggas like...\nYou might also like\n(H-h-h-hold up, wait)\nLet the beat come back and the streets come back\nNiggas on the west tryna make the east come back\nMake me grow these nappy braids, make the beast come back like\n(H-h-h-hold up, wait)\nAnd a nigga fuck around get the R.I.C.O Act\nShoot shoot, and one, where my free throw at?\nAnd my lil' nigga Bobby can't eat those flats\nLike ooh kill 'em, ooh kill 'em\nOoh kill 'em, ooh kill 'em\n\nThey know Meek Milly, I barely went gold\nBut Meek Milly look like he sold two million\nAll this new money I'm getting my nigga\nI swear I don't know what to do with it\nYeah it's Meek Milly, I'm bombing on rappers\nI really don't give a fuck who with 'em\nPair with a nigga like me one time, like me one time\nAnd ya'll forgot about me\nActing like I don't really want mine\nWhat the fuck wrong with em\nKnow how we feeling, let me get back to it\nTerio like ooh kill 'em, ooh kill 'em\nOoh kill 'em, ooh kill 'em, ooh kill 'em, ooh"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsDangerous Lyrics\nRight Now Sound\nHitmaka!\n\nYou feel the vibe, it's contagious\nLook in your eyes, shit is dangerous\nGrateful I had all the patience\nI know you going through some changes\nYou taking pictures, know your angles\nOoh, no we ain't perfect, but we damn close\nOoh, you give me something I can't pay for\n\nNo angel, but you got a halo\nWhen it's nights like this\nI really wanna be right here\nI really wanna take you there (you there, oh there)\nWhen it's nights like this\nI really wanna be right here (be right here)\nI really wanna take you there (you there, baby, yeah, yeah)\n\nUh, it was nights like this, feelin' right like this\nI never really spent no time like this, huh\nThe second time at the crib knowin' I might not hit\nYou said, \"What I look like?\" Like my bitch, yeah\nLook into your eyes, shit is dangerous\nThe pussy wet, I call it angel dust\nI done put so many diamond chains on you, they get tangled up\nI never felt like this, it's strange as fuck (that's what it's like loving you)\nGot yo ex nigga calling, but he can't do much\n'Cause you with the kid now, Ella Mai, boo'd up\nAnd all you gotta do is call and watch that Wraith pull up\nUnder the stars since they throwin' all that shade on us\nFacts, woo!\nYou might also like\nYou feel the vibe, it's contagious\nLook in yo eyes, shit is dangerous (Your eyes)\nGrateful I had all the patience, hey\nI know you going through some changes\nYou taking pictures, know your angles\nOoh, no we ain't perfect, but we damn close\nOoh, you give me something I can't pay for\nThat's what it's like loving you\n\nUh, you feel the vibe, uh, I'm deep inside, yeah\nYou fuckin' me, ooh, I let you ride, yeah\nAt first you curved me, I let you slide in\nYo hips so curvy, you let me slide in\nOoh, and it was over once I flipped you over\nRelation goal when we come through just like Beyonc\u00e9, Hova\nThis that Hermes money, this ain't no Fashion Nova\nYou said yo ex had you depressed and I'm just glad that's over\n'Cause now you rockin' with a real one\nAnd when I'm in it, you be maxin' on a million\nAnd when I hit it back to back, you make me still cum\nI know them bitches hatin' on you, we gon' kill them\nThat's facts\n\nYou feel the vibe, it's contagious\nLook in yo eyes, shit is dangerous (Your eyes)\nGrateful I had all the patience\nI know you going through some changes\nYou taking pictures, know your angles\nOoh, no we ain't perfect, but we damn close\nOoh, you give me something I can't pay for\nThat's what it's like loving you\nAyy, you know you bad babe\nYou know I laugh at these shawties that try to text back\nYou from the projects, but so exotic\nJust give me all of that pussy, so many options (so many options)\nGirl, you got me callin', all these different numbers\nWhy you being selfish? You know that I want you\nYou be leavin' work and you deserve a Birkin\nGirl, you so contagious, damn that shit so dangerous\n\nYou feel the vibe, it's contagious\nLook in yo eyes, shit is dangerous\nGrateful I had all the patience\nI know you going through some changes\nYou taking pictures, know your angles\nOoh, no we ain't perfect, but we damn close\nOoh, you give me something I can't pay for\nThat's what it's like loving you"}
{"text":"Sound M.O.B\n\nWoo!\nI'm on my way to an island and I'm poppin' shit at the pilot (Fly shit only)\nNiggas be broke and be starvin' but still talkin' shit like they violent (Niggas is broke!)\nThey said that they honest, talk money, these niggas gon' say that they got it (Huh?)\nGettin' out with the key to success and these niggas gon' blame it on Khaled\nThey don't wanna see you win (They don't!)\nThey don't wanna see the Wraith (No!)\nYou don't wanna see your bitch caught up in the stars like she outer space\nMansion at the condo, condo at the mansion, and I'm runnin' out of space\nTell your homie, keep on comin' out his mouth, I'm sendin' somethin' 'round his way (Brrt)\nNiggas barely getting lawyer money (Woo)\nBetter get some Sig Sauer money\nRunning 'round like you Superman, don't be selfish, get your mom insurance money (Ha!)\nWoo, 'cause I'm the one to put it on your money\nI'm the one that make it happen it to you niggas, would you fuck around and do it for me?\n\nYeah, hopped in the Wraith and I bought it, it's litty again\nFly out a bitch from the tropics, get litty again\nAll of my parties is poppin', you know that we litty again\nAll of the foreigns on Collins, you know that we litty again\nThey don't wanna see the squad (We lit)\nThey don't wanna see the Wraith (We lit)\nThey don't wanna see your bitch up in the stars like she goin' outer space\nLitty again, litty again, I got it, we litty again (We lit)\nLitty again, litty again, I got it, we did it, we litty again\nYou might also like\nFeature money out the safe, went and brought a Wraith, brought it down Collins\nNiggas talkin' like they want it, when we in the city, they don't want problems\nNiggas said they gon' rob us\nBut nigga, we comin' from welfare\nI shoot a mullet when I pull it, how you catch a bullet like a NFL player?\nShould've known it was litty when bitches start lyin' on my dick\nLie on that pussy like I hit\nCan't even be a side, side bitch\nI'm hittin' 9s, 10s, and you ain't even looking like you a 5\nBroke bitches tryna do it for Twitter, when they used to do it for Vine, woah!\nI'm the man of the hour, I'm the nigga with the airtime\nRolls Royce Wraith, put your bitch up in the stars like she in the airline\nNiggas talkin' 'bout my hair line, I laugh about it, I be feelin' them\nSee, we both be making M's: they be makin' memes, I be makin' millions\nI just counted up a Quentin Miller\nA \"QM\", that's a quarter milli\nThey don't wanna see Jae drop \"6,\" fly private when he go to Philly\nFunny money, yeah I know it's silly, but your ho feel me\nWhen I pull up and I got a pour a whole four on it\nI promise she gon' know it's litty, motherfucker, yeah\n\nYeah, hopped in the Wraith and I bought it, it's litty again\nFly out a bitch from the tropics, get litty again\nAll of my parties is poppin', you know that we litty again\nAll of the foreigns on Collins, you know that we litty again\nThey don't wanna see the squad (We lit)\nThey don't wanna see the Wraith (We lit)\nThey don't wanna see your bitch up in the stars like she goin' outer space\nLitty again, litty again, I got it, we litty again (We lit)\nLitty again, litty again, I got it, we did it, we litty again\nAll of my niggas is way up\nThese niggas is haters, I know that they haters (Suckers)\nI score your bitch like a layup (Score)\nI make a mil' like a layup (More)\nI pop a pill just to stay up (Woo)\nI sip the lean just to slow it up (Slow it up)\nI'm with my team, and we goin' up (Goin' up)\nAll of these foreigns, they know it's us (Ah!)\nWhip it, whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it\nLike the coca when we mix the soda up (Whip it)\nPerfect timin' and we're blowin' up (Blowin' up)\nFuck it, I'ma light the Rollie up (Rollie up)\nShorty fuckin' for Chanel!\nI ain't trippin', that's a coconut (Coconut)\nPush the 'Rari 'til the motor bust\nStack the paper, fill the sofa up (Woo)\nLay on that paper, I am not slackin', I stay on that paper\nI feel like it's a restraining order on that money, 'cause y'all stay away from that paper\nI know some niggas that used to be ballin', but know they all feeling a way 'bout this paper\nI be spending hundred, hundred, hundred after hundred\nThey thought I was makin' this paper!\nFuckin' it good, I be rapin' this paper\nShit, I might as well get married to money\nI marry Nicki, still married to money\nShe rich as Mariah, I carry the money\nAnd fuck a deposit, I bury the money (Bury them M's)\nI bag the money, it hang out my pocket, embarrassin' money\nI act like I ain't used to havin' this money, oh!\nYeah, hopped in the Wraith and I bought it, it's litty again\nFly out a bitch from the tropics, get litty again\nAll of my parties is poppin', you know that we litty again\nAll of the foreigns on Collins, you know that we litty again\nThey don't wanna see the squad\nThey don't wanna see the Wraith\nThey don't wanna see your bitch up in the stars like she goin' outer space\nLitty again, litty again, I got it, we litty again\nLitty again, litty again, I got it, we did it, we litty again"}
{"text":"God (Yeah)\nOh God, boi (Yeah)\nG.O.O.D. (MMG, nigga)\n\nChain all V.S. I ain't with the B.S\nCatch me in your city riding hard through the B-X\nSkinny nigga but I do it large like a 3X\nThe last nigga tried to do me wrong, umm, he checked\nRight back to that money slinging O's in the p-jects (Yeah)\nOr probably catchin' mileage while the pilot steer the P-Jet\n(Woah) Cause we next and we flex like...\n\n90PX (Woah), working all night no breaks or a recess\nVroom vroom yeah I know my car sound like a T-Rex\nBitch, I'm 23 years old and I ain't riding in a Prius (Swerve)\nMy cousin finished school can't believe he graduated (Boi)\nThrew him 20,000 dollars told his ass congratulations (Ah)\nCause me? I wasn't made for that shit\nBut I could probably hire him and who all paid for his shit\nAnd to all the hoes that was dissin' I pray to God that you see me\nI'm on a yacht getting hella' high smoking good that seaweed\nBad bitch in her cha-cha grabbing on her chi-chi's\nMillion dollar deals on my email you mad as hell you ain't CC'ed\nChain all V.S., bitch, you know it's B.S\nBoy, I run my city\nYou might also like\nEnd of story, nigga P.S.\nAll white Maybach, Green Bay they packing\nY'all niggas was slackin', 'member the hard nights we trappin'\nAnd they say life's a game of chess\nYou can play checkers all on my jacket\nCause it's Damier and we bombs away on y'all bitch rappers\nI say yeah, nigga, I murder that, Panamera turtle back\nNiggas say they want beef, well, where the fuck is my burger at?\nI got white, was serving that, I been to jail, I ain't going back\nI alley-oop your bitch off that backboard, she throw it back\nI slam dunk in that pussy, Blake Griffin'd your ho, nigga\nMaybach with Ricky Ross my chain rock like I know Jigga\nThat's cause I do, ho, shout out to my new ho\nThat pussy pink like Nuvo and I dog that; Cujo\n\nNiggas wanna talk, what they gon' say? (gon' say)\nI hit the pedal til that motherfucker break (til it break)\nFreaky bitches love the money I make\nAnd to live like this you motherfuckers gotta pay\nSo let that shit burn! Let that shit burn\nI'ma let that shit burn, let that shit burn (Burn, gasoline!)\nThe roof on fire, I'm only gettin' higher\n50 racks all in my pocket, I want bottles, I'ma let that shit burn\nBitch, I had one shot and I ain't blow it\nRiding til the wheels fall off and they tow it\nI got green on top of green damn it's looking like I grow it\nD-Town the hood behind me like a king cobra\nBurn bitch, I let it burn bitch\nMy money straighter than a motherfucking perm, bitch\nNo navigation you can see it is my turn shit (swerve, swerve)\nShorty give me all that brain still ain't never learned shit\n\nOh that's your girl? Damn nigga, you ain't learn shit\nShe naked in my studio I'm on that Howard Stern shit\nI swear that mac 10 is my barbell, Finally Famous the cartel\nHit your girl in my whip and now that pussy got the new car smell\nSame shit, different day, I ain't broke no more, it's a different day\nDon't turn me down, I got shit to say\nMy purp strong like it's lifting weights\nIt's Sean Don sippin' Chandon\nI got a bad bitch with them pom pom's\nMy Rollie don't tick-tock, your shit sound like a time bomb\nBoom! Lil' bitch\n\nNiggas wanna talk, what they gon' say? (gon' say)\nI hit the pedal til that motherfucker break (til it break)\nFreaky bitches love the money I make\nAnd to live like this you motherfuckers gotta pay\nSo let that shit burn! Let that shit burn\nI'ma let that shit burn let that shit burn (burn, gasoline)\nThe roof on fire, I'm only gettin' higher\n50 racks all in my pocket, I want bottles, I'ma let that shit burn\nLet that shit burn\nI'ma let that shit burn, let that shit burn (burn, gasoline)\nThe roof on fire, I'm only gettin' higher\n50 racks all in my pocket, I want bottles, I'ma let that shit burn"}
{"text":"All I wanted was a new Mercedes\nBending off the corner whipping out the lot, I got it\nWomen love me but the niggas hate it\nBut how can I lose when I came from the bottom?\nLord knows\nNigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows\nNigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows\nNigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows\n\nUh, Lord knows I'm filthy rich\nAll this ice is like fifty bricks\nRap niggas throwing hissy fits\nI give my bitch a stack just for a Christmas gift\nAnd my bitch so bad, she on my Christmas list\n'Member I prayed, really I wished for this\nTo get the crib with the maid and with the picket fence\nI'm with some niggas that mad, we taking risks for this\nI'm talking risky business, flick the wrist\nLord knows that I repent for this\nBut Lord knows if I get penned for this\nI prolly won't get home until I'm fifty-six\nThey say I'm the Messiah, you rappers is liars\nI sign up at church just to rap at the choir\nTo spit my new verse at your wake while you're lying\nThe middle of the church have you wake, no I'm lying\nI just came from jail, ain't do no crying\nThey put me through hell, sharpened my iron\nI did my push-ups and I roared with the lions\nLike hold up, from balling I'm tired\nI'm back in this bitch and I'm back on my shit\nMan they tell me be humble, I'm cocky as hell\nShout out my bitches that answered my calls\nWhen I called you collect cause it got me through hell\nShout out that judge that denied me my bail\nIt made me smarter and made me go harder\nThey locked me up and slowed my album up\nBut I did not give up cause I knew I would prevail\nCame in the game, Philly as shit\nLook at these rappers, they silly as shit\nI do not know why they be gassing these suckers\nBut fuck 'em cause I am not feeling their shit\nDifference between me and most of these rappers\nI'm talking about work that I really put in\nTalking about pistols I put on my hip\nAnd I'm talking about foreigns I really could whip\nThat I really done drove\nReally was froze in my hood and these bitches I really did hit\nReally was chose, came up from nothing\nAnd now they like, \"How he made millions so quick?\"\nI'm in the back and it feel like a sofa\nI done seen bitches I'm fuckin' on Oprah\nIn my new mansion I feel like I'm Sosa\nA brick on the table ain't sniffing no coca, no way\nYou might also like\nAll I wanted was a new Mercedes\nBending off the corner, whipping out the lot, I got it\nWomen love me but the niggas hate it\nBut how can I lose when I came from the bottom?\nLord knows\nNigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows\nNigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows\nNigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows\n\nUh, niggas can't see me with binoculars on\nBack of the Maybach, shottas on\nAnd all my niggas keep choppers on\nDon't reach round me, that's a chopper zone\nEvery time you be on count, what the topic on?\nTwo hundred and fifty thou' what I dropped it on\nSee y'all think it's a game 'til FOX be on\nCNN, momma picking out boxes for 'em\nI want everything, got my own boxers on\nOwn headphones to get my popping on\nI got my own Pumas that I designed 'em for 'em\nStick and moving on these niggas, get my boxing on\nAll I ever hear from niggas is what they prolly doing\nBut they be really talkin' 'bout what I be doing\nAll black Rottweiler, that Givenchy on\nDrop top Rolls Royce but the top is on\nAnd the windows down like see y'all later\nMirror tint on that bitch so you could see y'all hating\nChampagne cork pop like we all made it\nYa'll looking from the sideline we all hate it\nMoney don't make it real\nDon't give a fuck if its eighty mill', pussy\nAnd just cause you got a Bentley\nThat Bentley won't make you thorough, pussy\nStill hating me from my city\nI'm thinking is they for real, pussies\nCause all I got to say is kill\nThey'll come in like Navy Seals\nThat's word to my momma, I promise I ain't doing no block\nAnd we shoot at you robbers and kill all you fuck niggas talking\nLately I've been on this money\nDon't run it back up just to come and put you in a coffin\nI heard you said you was running this city\nI seen you in traffic and you was just walking\nNiggas be popping that shit like they with it\nWhen niggas start hitting all you did was talk it, you pussy\nAll I wanted was a new Mercedes\nBending off the corner, whipping out the lot, I got it\nWomen love me but the niggas hate it\nBut how can I lose when I came from the bottom?\nLord knows\nNigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows\nNigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows\nNigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows, nigga Lord knows"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsBelieve It Lyrics\nAll I talk about is money\nCause that's all I know\n\nI got a a bad bitch in my Chevy\nSelling Miley Cyrus in my brand new Monte Carlo\nI got that Justin Bieber please believe it\nA quarter million hangin' on my collar\nA half a million in my duffle bag (duffle bag)\nNow I'm riding in my Cadillac (Cadillac)\nHammers and the fucking vogues\nI'm ridin' clean and I'm fuckin hoes (hah)\n\nOkay I woke up this morning, time to get this money\nYa'll niggas was yawning and I'd made about 20\nI got young boys on that corner, I call what you got for me\nHe say I done moved the whole thing, couple rocks all I got on me\nI say yeah nigga it's go, he say yeah nigga we on\nI said I be on my way, break a brick down in all zones\nAnd I got work, I got work\nAnd I got pills, and I got purp\nAnd I got goons that's on my team\nAnd they gon' kill like I got murked\nIf I say so, and I say go\nAnd they go ham, and I lay low\nI drop that work off in that toaster\nI let go of my eggo\nAnd this for sale nigga\n28 grams on my scale nigga\nCome and get it all\nYou might also like\nI got a a bad bitch in my Chevy\nSelling Miley Cyrus in my brand new Monte Carlo\nI got that Justin Bieber please believe it\nA quarter million hangin' on my collar\nA half a million in my duffle bag (duffle bag)\nNow I'm riding in my Cadillac (Cadillac)\nHammers and the fucking vogues\nI'm ridin' clean and I'm fuckin hoes (hah)\n\nHold on wait a minute\nYou got the realest and the richest niggas in the building\nFeel me?\nHo nigga wanna knock you off\nHate the way a nigga love to ball\nArt of war, common law\nStraight killer thats mama fault\nDope boy in my DNA\nStraight chips, Frito Lay\n8 clips, ay Jose\nHector my amigo straight\nDon't want no beef, I may crack your taco\nI'm screaming rest in peace, Griselda Blanco\nI got that Justin Bieber please believe it\nI (h)ate that pussy can you keep a secret\nBenzo on 4's nigga, countin' all my hoes nigga\nThat's all I knows nigga, that's all y'all hosed nigga\nI got a a bad bitch in my Chevy\nSelling Miley Cyrus in my brand new Monte Carlo\nI got that Justin Bieber please believe it\nA quarter million hangin' on my collar\nA half a million in my duffle bag (duffle bag)\nNow I'm riding in my Cadillac (Cadillac)\nHammers and the fucking vogues\nI'm ridin' clean and I'm fuckin hoes (hah)\n\nI'm ridin' clean, I'm fucking hoes\nI'm fuckin' hoes, I'm ridin' clean\nNiggas sellin' that China white\nFuck around with that Yao Ming\nBad bitch and she talk dirty\nTalk dirty, her mouth clean\nI was sellin' that white shit\nYa'll niggas have boy scout dreams\nSpend Iguodala on my Rolly\nYoung nigga ball like Kobe\nRiding round me and Chino\nAnd my young nigga Goldie\nHot whips you ain\u2019t seen though\nLimo thats my Rolly\nTwo-eleven on yo bitch\nTurn yo head she stolen\nMy neck look like a light show\nMy pocket, they need lipo\nI stand tall, no Eiffel\nAnd them goons go wherever I go\nYa'll niggas pussy like dyke hoes\nAll we know is get paid nigga\nI ball hard like LeBron James\nAnd Rozay D-Wade nigga\nI got a a bad bitch in my Chevy\nSelling Miley Cyrus in my brand new Monte Carlo\nI got that Justin Bieber please believe it\nA quarter million hangin' on my collar\nA half a million in my duffle bag (duffle bag)\nNow I'm riding in my Cadillac (Cadillac)\nHammers and the fucking vogues\nI'm ridin' clean and I'm fuckin hoes (hah)"}
{"text":"Started off poor with plans to own more\nNow we own stores and fuck the baddest whores\nI was on tour with niggas that sold raw\nStarted sellin' white, we won't sell it no more\nI'm like, Trump ain't feelin' us, cops still killin' us\nNiggas takin' shots, can't stop me, they ain't real enough\nCut her off, act like she's dead and it's killin' her\nNew Dawn, Hermes seat, I let the ceiling up\nJust to kill 'em softly, ooh, get 'em off me\nTry to crucify me like I'm Jesus the way she cross me\nI'm too bossy and too thorough\nTo move like a weirdo, on point like an arrow\nWe started off with zero, now I'm seein' M's\nDiamonds like water and they jumpin' out the gym\nShootin' like Harden if your head was the rim\n'Cause niggas wanna line me like a shape up and a trim, damn\nBack when I was broke, they was cool with it\nNow every move I make I'm in the news with it\nEven if I ain't do it they be like \"You did it!\"\nMy teacher always used to tell me \"You gon' lose nigga!\"\nThat's why I never went to school nigga\nAnd why I'm rappin' like I got somethin' to prove nigga\nWent and bought the mansion with the pool in it\nBilly with the stamp, I get two with it\nMove with it 'cause these niggas wanna take my life\nNo weapon formed against me every time I pray at night\nScoopin' thotties in the Phantom, that's the way of life\nAnd make 'em fuck their best friends like they was dykes\nReachin' for the Glock every time I play the light\nI'm on 12 o'clock every time I play them bikes\nI'm with the pack, uh, gettin' back, yeah\nSpendin' dope, nigga, sellin' smack, gang\nI'm gettin' chips off music like Rap Snacks\nYeah, 10 mil in cash of Ethika, that's a fact\nMoney, power, respect, eatin' breakfast on a jet\nI know these niggas upset, they ain't see me fall yet\nWins and losses!\nYou might also like\nThey wanna see me fold\nAnd I will never sell my soul\nI'm on some shit that they ain't seen before\nDream chasin', catchin' all my goals\nAnd I don't need these whores\nI'm gettin' money, me and all my woes\nPlay with me, you know it's all-out war\nThe young niggas goin' all out for us\n\nBloggers in a frenzy, truck to the Bentley\nAin't doin' no interviews, I'm busy, nigga we litty\nSo when you see me out don't ask me about no Nicki\nFuck I look like tellin' my business on Wendy\nNiggas gossip like queens, we was servin' fiends\n.40 bust your windows out: Jazmine Sullivan\nThey told 'em pop Mollys, I told 'em to be kings\nSippin' 1942 like it's lean\nI done seen all these niggas try to downplay my dreams\nSo I'ma give it to 'em every time I'm on the scene\nPull up Ghost Ghost, Wraith Wraith when you see me\nSome suckers wanna be me and some suckers wanna leave me\nI know it, I go through it, don't show it\nI told niggas who wrote it, ain't takin' back what I quoted\nStarted off with a quarter, flipped that to a half\nTurned that to an ounce, got some shit in the stash\nNigga say that he gon' rob me, put a brick on his ass\nNow every killer in my city tryna look for his ass\nAnd one thing 'bout Meek Milly, I'ma get to a bag\nHad to starve all day just to get to it fast\nLike Ramadan, totin' K's like it's Palestine\nReal niggas in my ambiance, bottom line\nEver since I met Ross and signed the dotted line\nI gave my momma 10,000 at least a thousand times\nDo the math on it!\nThey wanna see me fold\nAnd I will never sell my soul\nI'm on some shit that they ain't seen before\nDream chasin', catchin' all my goals\nAnd I don't need these whores\nI'm gettin' money, me and all my woes\nPlay with me, you know it's all-out war\nThe young niggas goin' all out for us\n\nTalkin', this my cocky flow\nDamn Daniel, why you son him? Mr Miyagi though\nThis that rose gold Patek, call me like '94\nMean nothin' to me, I tell you how it gotta go\nRain, sleet, on that corner when the block was slow\nEverybody was tryna trap, we started poppin' though\nHeard that bitch say she cut me, I was like \"\u00a1adi\u00f3s!\"\nIn the field, knock 'em down, it look like dominoes\nYoung nigga, I turned my Impala to a Wraith\nWhen you get a dollar they gon' hate\nBought my mom the crib with that gate\nPrivate school for all them babies, now they straight, nigga\n\nThey wanna see me fold\nAnd I will never sell my soul\nI'm on some shit that they ain't seen before\nDream chasin', catchin' all my goals\nAnd I don't need these whores\nI'm gettin' money, me and all my woes\nPlay with me, you know it's all-out war\nThe young niggas goin' all out for us"}
{"text":"43 ContributorsLevels Lyrics\nSee, it's brackets, nigga\nThem hoes ain't fuckin' you\n'Cause you ain't in that bracket, nigga\nLearn life, it's levels to this shit, young boy\nAyy, O, you feel me?\n\nLil' nigga, we don't rock the same clothes\nFuck the same hoes, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, we don't drive the same whips\nWe don't fuck the same chicks, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, we don't get the same paper\nYou a motherfuckin' hater, boy, it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, 'cause it's levels to this shit\u2014oh Lord!\n\n'Cause it's levels to this shit, levels to this shit\nCan't fuck my ho, 'cause it's levels to this bitch\nAnd I be rockin' Prada like a devil in this bitch\nAnd a Birkin bag like a gold medal to this bitch\nAnd I'm heavy as it get\nShinin' like a motherfuckin' bezel on my wrist\nAll my niggas mobbin' so we heavy in this bitch\nThirty grand for the Muller, that's a Chevy on my wrist\nWoo! Cocaine Mulsanne\nYoung nigga blowin' up; Kurt Cobain\u2014boom!\nSkatin' on them like I'm Lil Wayne\nAnd this 458 don't do the lil' lane\u2014vroom!\nSwerve on 'em, niggas gotta nerve on 'em\n'Cause I heard the feds got him and he had them birds on him\nBut a nigga back home and now niggas roll with him\nCaught a case, what you think? Nigga fuckin' told on him\nI ain't get my shit snatched yet\nYou ain't get your bitch back yet\nOne call, niggas aim that TEC\nBlood drawn, headshot, nigga brains on step\nHot shit if you pop shit\nAnd I don't want your opinion if you ain't got shit\nWe young niggas, we winnin', I pull up, drop shit\nMob shit, with more keys than a locksmith\nYou might also like\nLil' nigga, we don't rock the same clothes\nFuck the same hoes, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, we don't drive the same whips\nWe don't fuck the same chicks, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, we don't get the same paper\nYou a motherfuckin' hater, boy, it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, 'cause it's levels to this shit\u2014oh Lord!\n\nDamn, Tommy, you ain't got no job!\nDC, we the motherfuckin' mob\nYoung nigga gettin' straight to the money\nIn a Range with your honey, I pull up, like, \"Ahh!\"\nI make them power moves with Jay and them\nThem boys shootin', don't play with them\nMaybach, Rozay and them\nRollin' down Collins, call Rugs, hit the A with them\nCompound niggas live now\nIf it's the finals I'm ballin' like I'm LeBron now\nI call up Onyx and tell them bitches to calm down\nI treat the jet like a taxi the way I'm flyin' round\nAnd I don't fuck with no niggas\nIf they don't fuck with my niggas\nAnd I ain't fuckin' no bitches, if they fuckin' my niggas\nLil' nigga, we don't rock the same clothes\nFuck the same hoes, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, we don't drive the same whips\nWe don't fuck the same chicks, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, we don't get the same paper\nYou a motherfuckin' hater, boy, it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, 'cause it's levels to this shit\u2014oh Lord!\n\nOne time for the real niggas\nTwo times for the bad bitches\nY'all suckas be cuffin' hoes\n'Cause y'all suckas never had bitches\nI hit the dealer, bought another Rolls\nThat's the reason why you mad, nigga?\nThat's the reason why you hatin' on me?\nI love ballin'\u2014my bad, nigga\n'Cause it's levels to this shit, levels to this shit\nCan't fuck my ho, 'cause it's levels to this bitch\n'Cause it's levels to this bitch\nAnd a Birkin bag like a gold medal to this bitch\nLord, Lord, Lord, Lord, hold up!\n\nLil' nigga, we don't rock the same clothes\nFuck the same hoes, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, we don't drive the same whips\nWe don't fuck the same chicks, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, we don't get the same paper\nYou a motherfuckin' hater, boy, it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, 'cause it's levels to this shit\nLil' nigga, 'cause it's levels to this shit\u2014oh Lord!"}
{"text":"50 ContributorsBad for You Lyrics\n\nYou bring out feelings in me I never show\nNobody has made me feel this way before\nI'm a good girl, but I wanna be bad for you\nI wanna be bad for you\nI wanna be bad-ad-ad\nI wanna be bad for you\nI wanna be bad\n\nAnd they say bad girls ain't no good\nGood girls ain't no fun\nI still can't find a nigga that touch that\nI don't know one\nAnd I ain't searching for it\nNever trust but I'm working on it\nFell in love with that ride game\nSwimming pool, you surfing on it\nLike 'Yonce, do the surfboard, surfboard\nThey still think you a church girl\nWe linking up on your days off\nAnd I still give you that work girl\nLike work, twerk\nDo it like that video\nWanted that for a long time\nCool with it, I get it though\nFirst year we both fronted\nWe had feelings we didn't show\nSecond year we couldn't hide it\nFunny part they didn't know\nHow could something that's so wrong feel so right?\nBut who to tell you this wrong, though? This your life\nWord up\nYou might also like\nYou bring out feelings in me I never show\nNobody has made me feel this way before\nI'm a good girl, but I wanna be bad for you\nI wanna be bad for you\nI wanna be bad-ad-ad\nI wanna be bad for you\nI wanna be bad\n\nWe just fucking up the city, going hard every night\nNiggas hating on us, you know lord they ain't right\nCause I broke a lot of hearts, ain't do them girls right\nBut you broke hearts too, but that boy ain't fight\nSo they don't deserve it, it feel like it's perfect\nI'm loving your style the way you preserve it\nJust look at my eyes and see what's inside\nYou know that it's pride, you say that I'm worth it\nBut said I ain't ready, really I'm ready\nReally I'm ready, I'm ready like never before\nI'mma just give you a key to my heart\nYou'll be the first that I let in the door\nI used to hear that you flirt with them guys\nThey never would score\nAll you was hearing about me and the women\nAin't trust them before\nYou know what you're doing, fuck what they said\nYou know what we on\nWhen we in bed, it's like we on stage\nAnd I got the mic so let me perform, sing it\nYou bring out feelings in me I never show\nNobody has made me feel this way before\nI'm a good girl, but I wanna be bad for you\nI wanna be bad for you\nI wanna be bad-ad-ad\nI wanna be bad for you\nI wanna be bad"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsHeaven Or Hell Lyrics\nAyo, this the one? We all get caught in our own sins. Sometimes I have to remind myself, that on my worst day, I live like somebody on their greatest\u2014and so do you. Don't let your demons take you to Hell. Introduce 'em to Heaven!\n\nSome niggas go to college, some niggas go to jail\nSome make it into Heaven, some make it into Hell\nNobody wanna lose, nobody wanna fail\nNobody wanna die, nobody wanna kill\nThe things we do just to make it through\nBut nobody wanna lose, nobody wanna fail\nNobody wanna die, we're just tryna live our lives out there\n\nLook, I got homies in the ground, skeleton and bones\nAnd niggas doin' life, they ain't never comin' home\nThey said I wouldn't make it or never see the throne\nAnd my baby mama hate me \u2018cause she said I did her wrong\n\u2018Cause I left, to chase my dream, get it any means\nI said that I'll be back, she wasn't listenin' to me\nThat back-and-forth arguin' was gettin' in between\nI said fuck them other niggas, I go get it with my team\nIf we all grind, we all shine, fuck a part-time\nI used to play the block early mornin' and dark time\nNow it's G5 flights, fuck a depart time\nIt was hard times, nigga, now it's our time\nJust take a look at my life, rappin' brought me back to life\n\u2018Cause I was in them streets, my heart was cold as a pack of ice\nEvery night we strappin' like we was in Iraq to fight\n\u2018Cause niggas gettin' murdered for a block that do a stack a night\nWhoa, I got to make it home to my son\nOn them papers with a firm hold on his gun\nBefore I snitch they gotta burn a hole in my tongue\nGive me a hundred years in a hole on the sun\nIn boilin' water, in the world of no order\nIn the hood, ain't no loyalty, ain't no world for your daughter\nAin't no life for your brother, on the life of my mother\nI'ma get the fam right, nigga, you damn right!\nYou might also like\nSome niggas go to college, some niggas go to jail\nSome make it into Heaven, some make it into Hell\nNobody wanna lose, nobody wanna fail\nNobody wanna die, nobody wanna kill\nThe things we do just to make it through\nBut nobody wanna lose, nobody wanna fail\nNobody wanna die, we're just tryna live our lives out there\n\nYeah, I used to pop a lot of shit, now I keep it moderate\nThese niggas know I been iced out, hoppin' outta shit\nRight now I'm prayin' for my son to get this scholarship\nA nice university, one of these black colleges\nFar as the hood go, I acknowledge it\nBut whoever ain't a snake's usually a follower\nLuckily, I can tell the difference\nMy man comin' home, my other man gettin' sentenced\nSoft niggas usually send the hate through the bitches\nJealous Instagram niggas hatin' on your pictures\nWe dream-chasin', y'all niggas walkin' behind wishes\nWithout workin' for it, not often you find riches\nSome niggas find coffins, others just find ditches\nJust ask around 'bout the militia, they malicious\nD-block, finish that and cop more dope\nI'm two-stroke, you four-stroke\nIf you got enough cigars we can all smoke\nAin't nothin' all good when you all broke\nSo we could never be equal\nNever bite the hand that'll feed you\nNever fear a man if he bleed too\nSome niggas need a headshot, some niggas need two\nPlay sweet in these streets and they'll leave you\nYou can't see the Devil, he's see-through\nSome niggas go to college, some niggas go to jail\nSome make it into Heaven, some make it into Hell\nNobody wanna lose, nobody wanna fail\nNobody wanna die, nobody wanna kill\nThe things we do just to make it through\nBut nobody wanna lose, nobody wanna fail\nNobody wanna die, we're just tryna live our lives out there"}
{"text":"Woo! Woo!\nM-M-Maybach Music\n\nLook, I be ridin' through my old hood, but I'm in my new whip (Yes sir)\nSame old attitude, but I'm on that new shit (Yeah)\nThey say they gon' rob me, see me, never do shit (Never)\n'Cause they know that's the reason they gon' end up on a news clip (Murder)\nAudemar on my wrist, bust down (Bling)\nWe poppin' bottles like I scored the winnin' touchdown (Score)\n'Member me dead broke? (Broke) Look at me up now (Up)\nI run my city from South Philly back to Uptown\nThank God, all these bottles I popped\nAll this paper I been gettin', all these models I popped\nI done sold a hundred thousand 'fore my album got dropped\nAnd I'm only 23, I'm the shit, now, look at me\nLook at me, I'm a boss like my nigga Rozay\nShorty asked me for a check, I told that bitch like no way (No way)\n'Cause I made it from the bottom, it was never no way\nAnd I never had a job, you know I had to sell yay\nBitch, I'm a boss (I'm a boss) I call the shots (Call the shots)\nI'm with the murder team (Murder team) call the cops (Call the cops)\nWe in the building (We in the building) y'all are not (Y'all are not)\nYou short on the paper, you gon' ball or not?\nYou might also like\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nI plan the shots (Huh!) I call the calls (Huh!)\nWe in this bitch, it's goin' down\nYeah I'm the king, now where my muh'fuckin' crown? (Huh!)\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nI plan the shots (Huh!) I call the calls (Yeah)\nHey!\n\nGot so many shades, they thought I had a lazy eye (Huh)\nShorty rode me smooth as my Mercedes ride (Huh)\nNo love, cry when only babies die\nAnd when I go, that casket better cost a hundred thou'\nI pray to God I look my killer in his eyes\nSnatch his soul out his shirt, let's take him for that ride (For that ride)\nOG is one who standin' on his own feet\nA boss is one who guarantee we gon' eat (Huh)\nFuck a blog, dawg, 'cause one day we gon' meet (Gon' meet)\nI'ma spaz on yo ass like I'm Monique\nOr a double stack, bet a nigga double that\nJerry Jones money, nigga, you a running back (You a running back)\nHerschel Walker (What?) Bo Jack (Hah)\nRicky Watters, better run that dope back (Dope back)\nBoss, and I put that on my Maybach (Maybach)\nFour hundred thou', bitch, you wish you saved that\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nI plan the shots (Huh!) I call the calls (Huh!)\nWe in this bitch, it's goin' down\nYeah I'm the king, now where my muh'fuckin' crown? (Huh!)\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nI plan the shots (Huh!) I call the calls (Yeah)\nHey!\n\nCouple cars I don't never drive, bikes I don't never ride (Nah)\nCrib I ain't never been (No), pool I don't never swim (Never)\nFool, you ain't better than (Nah), I move like the president (Yeah)\nEry'thang black-on-black, you know I be strappin' that\nRattin' ass niggas walkin' 'round wearin' wires\nFuckin' up the game, got the hood on fire (It's hot)\nBitch I'm a king (King) call me sire\nIf you say I don't run my city, you a muh'fuckin liar\nI'm a boss, you a fraud\nYou cross the line, I get you murdered for a cost (Murder)\nOut in Vegas (Out in Vegas) I took a loss (Took a loss)\nAt the fight, we watchin' Floyd, we on the floor (We on the floor)\nYeah, scared money don't make no money\nIf I ever go broke, I'ma take yo money\nI ain't never dropped a dime, you ain't take none from me\nIn the hood err'day, bitch, I'm good, what I say?\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nI plan the shots (Huh!) I call the calls (Huh!)\nWe in this bitch, it's goin' down\nYeah I'm the king, now where my muh'fuckin' crown? (Huh!)\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nBitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss) Bitch, I'm a boss! (I'm a boss)\nI plan the shots (Huh!) I call the calls (Yeah)\nHey!\n\nM-M-Maybach Music"}
{"text":"This is my blues\n'Cause I'm back down on my own again\nThis is the blues I'm playing\nYes, it's a fine old thing\nWhen the night is cold and lonely\n(This is a Dollar Bill beat)\n\nWas it the money that made me a savage?\nPoppin' them Percs and I made it a habit\nTotin' them pistols and serving them addicts\nThat was exciting to me, I'm so excited to be\nStarted with nothin', we had to inspire to be\nNiggas ain't flyer than me, I'm getting to it\nFeel like the man, I got the plan\nI call the shooters, they hop out the van\nPlay with the squad, get popped like a Xan\nPop like a Perc, I'm goin' ham\nI'm goin' crazy on niggas, too wavy for niggas\nDo magic like alakazam\nI'm in the kitchen compressin' a birdie\nTake out a nine and I sell it for thirty\nThen straight to the jeweler, I'm bustin a Rollie\nTo light up the city like Meechie in '03\nI got the plug, he send 'em OT\nDon't know these niggas, these niggas know me\nEven old niggas, they call me OG\nYoung nigga but I put it down\nWe was on it when it weren't 'round\nAll of sudden niggas wanna come around\nStay over there, my G\nYou might also like\nThis is my blues\nDo me one favor, take a few steps back\n'Cause I'm back down on my own again\nAnd look at yourself\nMatter fact, take yourself outside your body\nAnd then look at yourself\nAnd see how you playing yourself, nigga\nThis is the blues I'm playing\nCongratulations, it's the motherfuckin' Chasers\nYes, it's a fine old thing\nYou feel me? We on it\nWhen the night is cold and lonely\n\nGave you the plug\nTry to be real with some niggas and put 'em on money\nAnd show 'em some love\nYou did me a favor, I knew you was sheisty\nI knew you would show who you was\nIt's only a matter of time before niggas get lined\nAnd hit with them slugs\nGet found in a pool of your blood, yeah, nigga\n'Member they told me that we would fail\n'Member they said we would see a cell\nDown with that semi like Cam Newton\nI'm in the field like the NFL\nNiggas is sick' and I wish em well\nI made a wish in a wishing well\nI put a brick in a wishing well\nBeen through some shit and I'm sick of jail\nNo disease but I'm sick of cells\nSick and tired of sending niggas mail\nCalling niggas just to get a bail\nI just seen a nigga get a L\nNever coming homeand minute on the phone\nSick and tired of seeing niggas fail\nSick and tired of seeing niggas lose\nSinning like we tryna get to hell\nThis is my blues\n'Cause I'm back down on my own again\nThis is the blues I'm playing\nYes, it's a final thing\nWhen the night is cold and lonely"}
{"text":"\nLocation: Toronto; Status: five star hotel, Four Seasons. Them chumps right upstairs, they know not to come down here playin' no real niggas (haha). Mood: I'm still up countin' five hundred thousand cash. Nicki in the bedroom sleep, life is good\n\nI've been in my cell for a week straight\nLocked down 24, no more Philip's Steak\nDamn, shit's so real it seems fake\nDamn, let me take 'em to the green gate\nWhen we was sellin' white girl\nAudemar shinin' like it need a light bill\nThese niggas dick ride like they don't even like girls\nA hundred thousand for the jet, yeah that's the flight bill\nDamn, cost four bricks to go to the LIV nigga\nWhole squad on some shit, that's how we live nigga\nTwenty-five bad bitches what we did nigga\nThat's fifty different Louboutins bleedin' red nigga\nWhew, I ain't blood and I ain't crippin' neither\nOn the phone with the plug talkin' Justin Bieber\nI made a milly last week and I ain't touch it neither\nStraight cash tryna give 'em straight gas\nCatch you out in Brooklyn, get your chain tookin'\nMy Philly boys'll creep up on you when you ain't lookin'\nWith your lil memes, I be with the real queen\nScreamin' free the real Preme, we be doin' real things\nPull up with a bad bitch, whippin' somethin' real mean\nMarchin' all these fuckin' drums on me like a drill team\nI be with my young niggas, all they know is kill things\nDon't make me make a real scene, uh\nSee an OVO chain, probably take that shit\nSaid dreamin' wasn't enough, we had to chase that shit\nYou ain't write it' nigga, we caught ya, can't erase that shit\nAnd you claimin' you HOV now? Why you state that shit?\nMan I hate that shit, niggas be talkin' out they face\nBut soon as you body somethin' they be singin' like they Drake\nWait, niggas dancin' like they fruitcakes\nHotline Bling don't get no bing up in this new Wraith\nPull up on the plug, swap that bag with the suitcase\nDC4 on the way, that's nigga's due date\nRobbed you in your city and you told\nTory from the 6, you hatin' on him, Lord knows\nCulture vulture, now it's time to pay the tolls\nSoft as the lacrosse team, boy that's word to HOV\nNo reply, word to God I'm on the floor still\nMe and Nicki watchin' the Sixers, I'm closin' more deals\nDreamchasers' double MG, we got the door sealed\nRoc Nation, Atlantic Records, I'm on my fourth deal\nWhen I met you, you was on my dick\nAsked me to hold the DC chain, now you on some shit\nOmelly told me get it back cause he's like \"boy's a bitch\"\nAnd I'm like, let him get it took cause we gon' charge 'em trips\nYou might also like\nFuckboy, huh charge you triple the way this real nigga stamp. Chasers, ahh. Location: Philly; Mood: Glock with 30; Status: triple OG, never been disrespected without retaliation, chump\n\nI've been in the hood for like a year straight\nSippin' dirty, it be hard for me to stand straight\nDamn, it's time to cut the dead weight\nI'm tryna turn my CLS into a red Wraith\nWhen I was sellin' hard crack you was scared straight\nI dropped 9 and bought the Rollie with the red face\nMeek the one that got the mil, the one that got the deal\nI'm still lampin' with the shooters and they poppin' pills\nThese niggas like to rap diss 'til they get popped for real\nIt's time to son these pussy rappers, I'm their pop for real\nI'm the type to fuck your mom cause she's a thot for real\nAnd I ain't got one, my pump playin' shotgun\nQuarterback that Glock, Cam Newton, and you catch a hot one\nAnd for the fam I'll keep shootin' until the cops come\nReload, double back, hold up, cuz, I got one\nOfficial only respect official and you are not one\nNo, we are not them, we be on some other shit\nDeep in them trenches, duckin' narcotics and the government\nTracin' the dollar, flippin' that product, tryna double shit\nChewing like it's double mint\nMan, who you niggas fuckin' with?\nHah, hey Meek Mill man, I'ma start running down on these niggas too. Real rap, these niggas soft and they frauds, check DC record nigga, we flawless. Any nigga stepped up to the fuckin' plate got rolled over. I ain't just talkin' to be talkin', nigga, check the resume. How many times we got to fuck the city up for you niggas to pay homage. Fuck you niggas talking bout nigga? Slide through 20 deep, I'm talkin' bout 7 Rolls Royces, 3 Maybachs, 20 Rollies, 30 Cubans, 25 bad bitches, 25 Chanel bags, 6 Caddie trucks, jumbo jets. Stop playin' nigga, we came from nothin'"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsChiraq Lyrics\nYou fuck around get smoked\nYou fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked\nNigga, you fuck around get smoked\nUh, niggas know the rules in my hood\nIf you touch me you get murked\nWe ain't with that back and forth, it ain't no rap, we hittin' first\nG-5, we be at LIV by Sunday when you in the church\nMomma stressin', sellin' dinner platers\nTryna get your casket and get ya hearse\nLast nigga that slid on us got dropped on it, he told on us\nEvery nigga you see with me got ice on 'em, bank rolls on us\nNaw nigga, no 1 on 1's, we don't fight fair, we just roll on 'em\nV-S stones and Cuban links, all that ice wear with that gold on 'em\nWe ain't swingin' no flag, nigga\nWe ain't need no pass, nigga\nGlock 40 with a 30 clip and a laser on it, play tag with us\nEverybody wanna talk bricks\n'Til them feds swoop in and grab niggas\nDream Chasers got into somethin'\nWe don't ever blink 'cause we trash niggas\nI don't know if y'all heard 'bout what my homie do with that 30 out\nDeen Buck still in the cut and the state fittin' to let Ernie out\nI ain't even gotta say nothin'\n'Bout that other homie that you heard about\n'Cause if he heard about that you run your mouth\nHe come to your house and start swervin' out\nCatch me N-Y-C, out Shadyville, I'm in the tank\nOnly time it's Manhattan when I'm in the booth or I'm in the bank\nSummertime in La Marina with Dominicans goin' in the paint\nPullin' up, screamin', \"Eh, Dimelo'?\"\nCatch you in Brooklyn, get pita-rolled, pussy!\nYou might also like\nYou fuck around get smoked\nYou fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked\nNigga, you fuck around get smoked\nYou fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked\n(Yeah! Ayy, Meek, whattup? Bang! Oh, man in Chiraq)\nNiggas say me and Sosa beefin'\nBut we both eatin', but only one keepin'\nTold Law he take 15 years\nEvery crime we did we gon Keep It Secret\nCan't tweet Teyana, corporate nigga lookin'\nSo what I\u2019m on I gotta keep it secret\nThat face no Stevie no Mimi, I promise Teyana that I won't leak it\nGripped the 30, just cashed out\nIf you caught strippin' then you assed out\nI'm the same nigga my city asked about\nWhile you in the cut steady buyin' clout\nFuck the judge, let 9 out, hairpin trigger, let 9 out\nFour birds in the trap like four wings at Harold\u2019s\nWith fries covered in mild sauce\nEverytime a nigga rap beef, get clapped up in a couple weeks\nIG comments and a couple tweets\nLocation on, we can go and meet\nHeadshot, I'm outta town, I'm in Killadelphia with my nigga Meek\nPop a wheelie in N-Y-C, I got the 30 on with my nigga Flee\nHeard Tyga sneak dissin' on me, tellin thot bitches I'm not right\nTyga only got one name, but that nigga ain't got one stripe\nHe backpack, so easy to get the nigga shit snatched\nAsk Mally Mall to get his shit back\nIn Chiraq, don't come here\nYou ain't from here? Don't come here\n'Cause shorty snipin', bag on him if he don't like this\nNo Young Chop, that .40 bangs just like him\n30 punch like Tyson\nBack to the rap flow, hot shit\nFuck I gotta rap for, got bricks\nEvery city I go, got sticks\nPockets Wells Fargo, no bricks\nSay I'm on top now, no shit\nYou can never say I wife shit\nI don't even like shit, I just pipe shit, one night shit\nL.A. with killas and thuggers\nNew York SlowBucks, them my brothers\nA-T-L with Migos and Young Thugger\nWe gon' shoot shit up in public\nAnd they gotta urge to take\nChiraq, look at the murder rate\nYou wear red bottoms and Phillip Lim\nEverybody tryna get a hold of him\nBad bitches they be in Benz\nI knock \u2018em down like bowling pins\nFeds snatch me, I don\u2019t know them\nReal nigga on 4nem\nYoung Jefe, the new Soulja Slim\nHangin\u2019 out the tank with Slow and them\nCome take a trip to D.C.\nHear a lot of Me and see GG\nI\u2019m the big dog, I\u2019m ringin\u2019 off\nLike Mambo Sauce on a 3 piece\n\u201cGlizzy, why you ain\u2019t D.C.?\"\nWho said I ain\u2019t D.C.?\nFuck ya bitch to my CD\nShe let me record her like Mimi\nA nigga playin\u2019, it\u2019s lights out\nOoh, shine got me iced out\nStay low 'cause the mice out\nYou only get fly when the Mikes out\nCan't wait 'til it get nice out\nTell Chino bring the bikes out\nGot 50 guns in my trap house\nYou better off fuckin\u2019 with the White House\nI\u2019m the realest youngin' in the fuckin\u2019 world\nI got plenty money, I got plenty girls\nGot a villa for the week, got fifteen freaks\nAnd they all wanna go for a fuckin\u2019 swirl\nHad her come to us with the marble pearls\nGlock 23, treat her like my girl\n357, that bitch just twirl\nMake him catch our shit like Fitzgerald\nYou fuck around get smoked\nYou fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked\nNigga, you fuck around get smoked\nYou fuck around, you fuck around, you fuck around get smoked"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsLil Nigga Snupe Lyrics\nR.I.P. to my lil' nigga Snupe (Rest in peace to a real nigga)\nYeah\nWe the realest niggas in this shit\nReporting live out of Philly\nYoung nigga loved popping bad bitches and wheelies\nAnd I'm talking all this money, now these niggas can't feel me\nMoney long, team strong so these niggas can't kill me, ah\n\nI get a rush from this lifestyle\nSolid gold presidential with the ice dial\nWhen the chasers in the building turn the lights down\n'Cause every single nigga with me gon' be iced out\nGlock 40, living life wild\nI go to court for probation and looking like trial\nThe DA told me she want a nigga but right now\nI'm living better than ever, I'm thinkin' like, \"How?\"\nIs it the money? Is it the cars?\nIs it the way a nigga living that took me this far?\nBut still they want me with the sins and give me them bars\nThey lock a nigga in the dark I still look like a star\nI shine, I grind harder, I'm working my mind smarter\nI take care of my grandmama, mama, my ma's daughter\nThey telling me I ain't shit, I made it for my father\nI just hope you pray for me, matter fact sing for me\nYou might also like\nLil' Snupe, they killed my lil' nigga Snupe\nMy lil' nigga was the truth\nAnd all he wanted was a coupe, all he wanted was a coupe\nSo what's a nigga 'sposed to do?\nTell 'em put the guns down or tell these lil' niggas shoot?\n'Cause they'll do the same to me, do the same shit to you\nAnd all these niggas in my roof, that's why I got a bulletproof\n\nAnd as I'm rolling through my city, nigga, all I see is murder\nAin't nobody seen it but shit everybody heard it\nAnd ain't nobody hiring so everybody serving\nAnd all this gunfire and shit everybody murkin', better get a strap\nYoung niggas selling 'caine just to get it back\nAnd they busting out them things 'til they sitting back\nAnd if a nigga hit my homie, we gon' hit him back\nAnd if you send him over here, know we gon' send him back\nMy flow iller, I came up from dope dealing\nI been sayin' I'd make it, they telling me no\nNigga these voices all in my head just telling me go get it\nI came up on four wheelers, bananas and gorillas\nThrough the jungle where killers rumble and everyone perishing\nRealest nigga in it no comparison\nAnd they got the nerve to tell me that I'm arrogant\nBut what the fuck, I'm young black, I made it in America\nSo I'ma ball harder than the mahfucking Carters\nBeyonc\u00e9 and Shawn, arm bluer than their daughter\nManeuver through the water like a shark that's on a dolphin\nNigga darker in a coffin, Devil on him, get 'em off, hah\nI can look at your homies and tell you foul, dawg\nLeaning with your left but you still a southpaw\nBe the same niggas that'll take you out, dawg\nLeaving niggas hungry but you eating Mr. Chow's, dawg?\nWhere the love at? Where the love at?\nI'd give up all this money to get lil' cuz back\nJust for my nigga, go starving, like, \"Where the grub at?\"\nGive up the fame, start over and get my buzz back\nDo it again, murder his killer, him and his friend\nPut the arena, step on the stage, kill him again\nLook at the stands, the fans coming, filling them in\nTo give my nigga a chance, see him winning again\nSnupe! They killed my lil' nigga Snupe\nMy lil' nigga was the truth\nAnd all he wanted was a coupe, all he wanted was a coupe\nSo what's a nigga 'sposed to do?\nTell 'em put the guns down or tell these lil' nigga shoot?\nCause they'll do the same to me, do the same shit to you\nAnd all these niggas in my roof, that's why I got a bulletproof\n\nReal nigga for life!\nReal nigga for life!\nReal nigga for life!\nThey killed my lil' nigga Snupe!\nKilled my lil' nigga Snupe"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsJump Out the Face Lyrics\nI just took a Perc', now I'm on another level\nTastin' on the molly got me dancin' with the devil\nPoured a eighth of Kobe Bryant, mixin' purple with the yellow\nGot these racks on me, now it's hard to keep this shit together (Woo, woo)\n\nJump out the 'Rari ,then jump out a Wraith\nThen I hop in Margiela, then hop in some Bape (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, woo, woo)\nThey jump out the face, they jump out the face\nMoney gon' stack and this money gon' fall though, Meek Mill\n\nCame from the hood, now we jump out of states (The states)\nPeep all these diamonds, they jump out the face (They do)\nDuckin' indictments and sellin' this white (Ah)\nGot to watch for these niggas, they'll jump on your case\n(You watch out, these niggas, these niggas, they playin')\nAnd none of this money don't come out the safe (You know what I'm sayin'?)\nFuck with my dawg, knock a chunk out ya face (Ayy, blatt, blatt)\nNigga I be so high, I could jump out to space\nWhat the fuck did I say? (Yeah, yeah)\n\nI be so fly, just don't shoot my cape (Woo)\nWent and bought me a safe and it came with a Wraith (Woo)\nGot some new money, went, bought me a K (Yeah)\nYou see all them VV's jump out the face (The VV)\nPut that dope in the trap and cook up me a cake (Strip club)\nWe fly to Cuba to fuck up some mula (Freebandz)\nPour up some pour up, my nigga we boolin' (Freebandz)\nYoung nigga pull up in Bentleys just boolin'\nI'm taking your ho from you cause she was choosy (Skrrt)\nI keep them shooters on deck, I approve it (Frrap)\nGet me a truck of them things, I'll move it\nVVS cuts on my wrist suicidal ('Cidal)\nI stay lit up with that flawless on fire (On fire)\nI spend it all with my niggas, let's get it (Let's get it)\nGet out your feelings, young nigga let's get it\nI got stars on my ceiling\nYou might also like\nJump out the 'Rari (Ah), then jump out a Wraith (Woo)\nThen I hop in Margiela, then hop in some Bape (Ha, ha, ha, woo, woo, woo, skrrt, skrrt, Meek, woo)\nThey jump out the face (Straight up, woo, freaky fresh, fresh, fresh, fresh)\nThey jump out the face\nMoney gon' stack and this money gon' fall though, yeah, yeah\n\nI've been peepin', you niggas been watchin' my moves\nWatchin' my stacks and my shoes\nWhen everybody did the Gucci and Louis\nWe was on Jimmy Choos\n2012, when we did the Giuseppes\nMargielas was cool\nWhen you lil' niggas was worried about Jordans\nWe was rocking them Loubs\nIf I got to lose, it's not by the rules\nGet hit with that chopper, knock right out your shoes\nShawty so proper, she look like a goddess\nWhen I dip inside her, it's just like a pool\nI bought some 'Raris and I bought some Phantoms\nAnd then dropped out the seat like I dropped out of school\nStill will pull up on you, hop out with goons\nThirty-two shots, let it pop out the tool\n\nI just took a Perc', now I'm on another level\nTastin' on the molly got me dancin', with the devil\nPoured a eighth of Kobe Bryant, mixin' purple with the yellow\nGot these racks on me, now it's hard to keep this shit together\nJump out the 'Rari (Ah), then jump out a Wraith (Woo)\nThen I hop in Margiela, then hop in some Bape (Ha, ha, ha, woo, woo, woo, skrrt, skrrt, Meek, woo)\nThey jump out the face (Straight up, woo, freaky fresh, fresh, fresh, fresh)\nThey jump out the face\nMoney gon' stack and this money gon' fall though, yeah, yeah, woah"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsMonster Lyrics\nThe money turned me into a monster (Hah!)\nThe money turned my noodles into pasta (Hah!)\nThe money turned my tuna into lobster (Whoa!)\nThey want to do me, I maneuver like a mobster, whoa!\n\n4 A.M., I'm on the north side of Philly\nRiding around like these haters don't want to kill me\nIt's a shame how they hate on me, you gotta feel me\nI started out with a dollar and got a milli\nJahlil Beats, holla at me!\nI'm like, \"Do it for the gram, ho! Do it for the gram, ho!\"\nShe don't want to bust it, I say, \"Do it for them bands, yo!\"\nI say, \"Do it for them bands\"\nFucking with that broke nigga, you should do it for your man\nLately, I've been on the low with a ho that you probably know\nTook her to the crib and met momma right at the door\nMomma started smiling like, \"Momma, I gotta go\"\nI done took so many trophies to momma\nMy momma know her son a real nigga\nI get that money, pay them bills, nigga\nMy momma told me, \"You a real nigga\"\nAnd I be hanging with them real killers\nNow, what a feeling\nWhen you looking at the latest whip and knowing you can cop it\nOr looking at the baddest bitch and knowing you could pop it\nThe youngest nigga in my city doing it, I got it\nOn that other line with Benjamin, and money is the topic, Lord!\nYou might also like\nThe money turned me into a monster (Hah!)\nThe money turned my noodles into pasta (Hah!)\nThe money turned my tuna into lobster (Whoa!)\nThey want to do me, I maneuver like a mobster, whoa!\n\nI put my jeweler on his feet (On his feet)\nHundred thou, I used to do that every week (Every week)\nNever sleep, it's funny how it never speak (Never speak)\nYou see a foreign in my city, that was Meek, whoa!\n\nThat was us, never sweet (Never sweet)\nWe went to war, niggas riding down the street (Brr-r-r!)\nPopping that pistol they talking they never deep (Never deep)\nDropping that nickel out something with leather seats\nI've been sitting on that money like a chair (Like a chair)\nI've been getting to that money all year (All year)\nAll year and my niggas all here\nBut we started from the bottom, we was selling hard squares\nBaddest bitch in the game wearing my chain, I'm ready\nSwitching lanes in that Mulsanne like Andretti (Skrt!)\nI do the Balmain, Balenciaga, no Giuseppe\nIf they sleep on Meek Milly, I kill these niggas like I'm Freddy, oh!\nI eat that pussy like a monster (Monster)\nShe gon' ride the dick, she need a sponsor (Ah!)\nYou could tell I'm Philly from my posture (You know!)\nAnd we be whipping coca like it's pasta, whoa!\nI be all money (All money)\nTwo milli, four milli\u2014no, I need more money (More money)\nI get that \"see a bad bitch and be like, 'How you doing?'\" money\nThey like, \"How you doing, honey?\" OH!\nThe money turned me into a monster (Hah!)\nThe money turned my noodles into pasta (Hah!)\nThe money turned my tuna into lobster (Whoa!)\nThey want to do me, I maneuver like a mobster, whoa!\n\nI put my jeweler on his feet (On his feet)\nHundred thou, I used to do that every week (Every week)\nNever sleep, it's funny how it never speak (Never speak)\nYou see a foreign in my city, that was Meek, whoa!"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easRespect the Game Lyrics\nYah\nBig bag, got 'em big mad\nA nigga gettin' to some money and his bitch bad\nJumpin' out the Rolls truck with the temp tag\nI'm gettin' money, I don't get mad, ugh\nAsk a nigga in my hood, he gon' say that I'm stamped\nAnd when them situations came, I came out like a champ\nWhen it was pourin' down rain and I came out of it damp\nBut now it's champagne showers when we poppin' the champ', ugh\nWe dodged all the Feds and they traps\nNiggas can't be us 'cause they rats\nStand tall, point a finger, never that\nI knew a nigga had it all, went to the bing, ain't get it back\nThat's why I'm humble as ever, and I rumble whatever\nDon't chase hoes 'cause they come with this cheddar\nI seen my man girl start actin' bougie when he fuck up his cheddar\nBefore you knew it, niggas was fuckin' her better\nI knew about it and I-\nWanted to tell him, I felt funny as ever\nBut when I told him, he went runnin' to tell her, damn\nRemember I was down bad, I'm talkin' under the cellar\nNow the Rolls Royces come with umbrellas\nFor the rain and all the pain that we been through\nIf you don't feed your wolves they gon' put you on the menu\nThat's why I be with family and some buls that I been knew\nIf money determined loyalty, we'd cut you with a Ginsu\nNow I go against you, facts\nYou might also like\nRule number one, never count your homie pockets thinkin' you deserve it\nRule number two, never trust a bitch that'll fuck you for some purses\nRule number three, save you some of that money, shit you better stop splurgin'\n'Cause when it's all said and done and you back at the bottom, they gon' treat you like you worthless\nRespect the game\n\nFuck the fame\nWe millionaires fuck your watch and lil' chain\nNiggas disappear as quick as Lil Zane\nYou feelin' yourself, I know you got a lil' lane\nJust hold your composure, I seen this shit happen over and over\nThat couple hundred thousand holdin' you over\nThat ain't real money\nThat's bill money, buy a Rollie, get a wheel money\nCatch a case, pay a lawyer, take a deal money\nNow you tapped out and got no appeal money\nCallin' home like niggas done did you wrong\nBut when you had that money you could've put niggas on\nAnd the moment they put cuffs on you, your bitch was gone\nStudent of the game, I'm just ahead of my class\nI'm that nigga, but I never got my head up my ass\nYou doin' good, but I'm ready for bad\nAnd you won't never catch me frontin' 'cause I'm used to bein' second to last\nRespect the game\nRule number one, never count your homie pockets thinkin' you deserve it\nRule number two, never trust a bitch that'll fuck you for some purses\nRule number three, save you some of that money, shit you better stop splurgin'\n'Cause when it's all said and done and you back at the bottom, they gon' treat you like you worthless\nRespect the game"}
{"text":"Meek Milly, Jeffery, woah\nM-M-M-Murda\n\nYeah, yeah\nFuck is you talkin' 'bout? Bitch, you offendin' me (Fuck is you talkin' 'bout?)\nI just might go 'head\nAnd let this lil' bitch suck my dick till it tickle me (Suck, suck it up)\nI just might go 'head\nAnd mix me a Sprite with some lean like it's chemistry (lean, lean)\nGoddamn, I had four hoes at one time, they was drilling me (Goddamn, damn, woo)\nI heard the lil' boy was plotting on killing me\nFuck 'round and lift up they soul like Lil Chino be wheelin' (Brrt, woo)\nI usually don't beg but I don't want the ceiling please (Woo-hoo)\nOxycontin fucking up kidneys\n\nMolly, my cup look like bath salt\nAnd I'm too high horsed for asphalt\nTherefore I'm in clouds from day to dark\nThey say that I changed, it's the cash fault\nPay everybody like a cash cow\nI switch through the lanes like a NASCAR\nThe Rollie stainless, stainless\nWe young and rich and we dangerous\nI'm at Piccadilly's with your missus, nigga\nAnd the weed stinking like a chitlin, nigga\nThe money long like a Philly, nigga\nMake me catch you slipping then it's Christmas, nigga\nThe bulletproof can take a missile, nigga\nI got Benji on me and he Crippin' nigga\nI done wrapped the benji in the city, ho\nI done wrapped the Bentley in the bity, nigga\nPut a swimming pool in the living room\nHow I'm living, nigga, I ain't swimming, nigga\nOnly thing that me and Michael Phelps\nGot in common is that we winning nigga\nRock star lifestyle\nYour ho's going wild\nYou might also like\nSaint Laurent shorty and toting that .40\nWe move through the city like BMF\nRocks on the chain like the rocks that I slang\nOnly difference them bitches, they VVS\nI know these bitches gon' change\nAnd fuck on whoever, whenever they see a check\nIf you do not fuck with the gang\nDon't act like you do, when you see us just keep it that\nSwing through your block, bring that sweeper back\nLand on your spot where your peoples at\nSmoke you where ever we see you at\nYou don't want no problem so keep at that\n'Fore you get your man murdered\nHitters in the van lurking\nI put bread on the beef (What you do?)\nTurn it to a hamburger\nPut that paper on the scale, nigga\nLittle homies talking big money\nWhen the wars on you'll tell, nigga\nPut a bag on your main hitta\nWhen them things hit 'em, that's an L, nigga\nSo you should be home before mama got dinner for sale, nigga\nAnd that\u2019s all I\u2019ma tell niggas, and that's it\n\nYeah, yeah\nFuck is you talkin' 'bout? Bitch, you offending me (Fuck is you talkin' 'bout?)\nI just might go 'head\nAnd let this lil' bitch suck my dick till it tickle me (Suck, suck it up)\nI just might go 'head\nAnd mix me a Sprite with some lean like it's chemistry\nGoddamn, I had four hoes one time, they was drilling me (Goddamn, damn, woo)\nI heard the lil' boy was plotting on killing me\nFuck 'round and lift up they soul like lil Chino be wheelin' (Brrt, woo)\nI usually don't beg, but I don't want the ceiling please (Woo-hoo)\nOxycontin fucking up my kidneys\nWoah, woah, woah\nEverywhere I go, I keep a chopper with me, whoa (21, 21)\nI ain't with that diss song shit, I been a shotta nigga, whoa\nHundred shottas with me, whoa, VVSs on me, whoa\nVVSs on me, bling, badaboom, badabing! (21)\nMob shit, send the hit, shoot up your car shit\nPut them blue tips in that cartridge (21)\nWe put them drums in them carbines (21)\nWe pull up on rappers and spark 'em (21)\nI might take your chain if it sparkle (Facts)\nStreet nigga really came from nothing (What?)\nStrip a nigga like Caine cousin (21)\nKill a nigga then you saying something (What?)\nYou was talking, nigga, I was hustling (What?)\nWe was shooting, nigga, you was ducking (Whoa)\nYou was texting, nigga, I was fucking (21)\nI was betting nigga, you was bluffing (21)\nHide and seek, nigga, I was hunching (Facts)\nCar foreign and my gun Russian\nSneak dissing, get a concussion (21, 21)\n\nYeah, yeah\nFuck is you talkin' 'bout? Bitch, you offendin' me (Fuck is you talkin' 'bout?)\nI just might go 'head\nAnd let this lil bitch suck my dick till it tickle me (Suck, suck it up)\nI just might go 'head\nAnd mix me a Sprite with some lean like it's chemistry (Lean, lean)\nGoddamn, I had four hoes at one time, they was drilling me (Goddamn, damn, woo)\nI heard the lil' boy was plotting on killing me\nFuck 'round and lift up they soul like Lil Chino be wheelin' (Brrt, woo)\nI usually don't beg but I don't want the ceiling please (Woo-hoo)\nOxycontin fucking up kidneys"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsTraumatized Lyrics\nIt really hurt me when they killed Shaddy\nI was locked down in my cell and I had to read about it\nAnd when they killed Diddy, left him out in Philly\nWe was young and gettin' money, man we used to run the city\nWe was rockin' all them shows, fuckin' all them hoes\nAnd when they killed Darryl, Renee had to see him froze on the ground\nDowntown, I can hear the sounds now\nWhen she walked up to that casket seen her son and fell down\nI drop tears for my niggas that ain't here\nAnd still think about you even though that it been years\n'Cause half the niggas that I grew up with is all dead\nAll this pain and all this stressin' I should have a bald head\n'Cause when my Aunt Rhonda died she looked Tak in his eyes\nSaw death comin', when she seen it she just cried\nProlly part of the reason we drink and we get high\nWhen I find the nigga that killed my daddy know I'ma ride\nHope you hear me, I'ma kill you nigga\nTo let you know that I don't feel you nigga\nYeah, you ripped my family apart and made my momma cry\nSo when I see you nigga it's gon' be a homicide\nCuz I was only a toddler, you left me traumatized\nYou made me man of the house and it was grindin' time\nSo I'ma let this flame hit you just to let this pain hit you\nAnd for all them cloudy days I'ma let this rain hit you nigga\nYou might also like\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nYou ripped my family apart and made my momma cry\nSo when I see you nigga it's gon' be a homicide\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nSo I'ma let this flame hit you just to let this pain hit you\nAnd for all them cloudy days I'ma let this rain hit you nigga\n\nAnd I ain't ready\nNiggas wanna murder me I'm ridin' around heavy\nI think they wanna wet me like New Orleans and the levees\nBut I got this Mac-Elev-y, these niggas'll never get me\nLord knows, I got alotta homies in the dirt\nNiggas sprayin' metal tryna take you off the earth\nReally over nothin', tell me what it's worth\nTryna take you out the game just to put you on a shirt\nI rose from the jungle like Derrick\nDeath to anybody that oppose my spirit\nMy future looking brighter than this rose I'm staring at\nWe be runnin' trains on the hoes y'all cherish\nRest in peace to my niggas, I swear I miss them to death\nMy hammer sing murda music, I'll let you listen to death\nI'll have you walk with the reaper when hollows rip through your chest\n'Cause if you throw 'em I throw back like Mitchell & Ness\nI'm gone\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nYou ripped my family apart and made my momma cry\nSo when I see you nigga it's gon' be a homicide\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nSo I'ma let this flame hit you just to let this pain hit you\nAnd for all them cloudy days I'ma let this rain hit you nigga\n\nMan my life so real\nLast night I went to sleep and woke up with the chills\nStarted with a dollar now I got a couple mil\nAnd I make a hundred thousand every time a nigga spill\nMan I almost got murked in front of the same church\nMy dad got carried in, family got married in\nThat was in my older days, this is now, that was then\nHad the block jumpin' for them dollars, Shawn Marion\nYoung nigga gon' get my own that's why I'm arrogant\nHomie need the bail, for them bonds we'll bury 'em\nLock 'em like a terrier, breakin' all barriers\nJust to beat the trial we go miles like Darius\n'Cause cops tryna catch me, niggas tryna clap me\nHaters runnin at me, know they wanna get at me\nAnd people got the nerve to ask why I don't look happy\nI did it for my niggas, and I did this shit for Kathy\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nYou ripped my family apart and made my momma cry\nSo when I see you nigga it's gon' be a homicide\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nSo I'ma let this flame hit you just to let this pain hit you\nAnd for all them cloudy days I'ma let this rain hit you nigga"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00eas24\/7 Lyrics\nEnd, that's what I found out\n\nTell me how you want it, yeah\nCall me and I'm on my way\nTell me that you need me, yeah\nI'll give it to you night and day\nI'm talkin' 'bout Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Saturday, Sunday\nMonday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday\nAll day, 24\/7\nYeah, all day, 24\/7\n\nUh-huh-uh\nLovin' the shit out you, fuckin' the shit out you\nFor seven days straight, and now I can't even live without you\nAnd if we ever broke up, I won't have a kid without you\nYou forever in my heart, I won't forget about you\nI be crushin' you on Monday like it's Wednesday\nYou pressed about that nigga, what your friends say?\nOh, G63 is what your Benz say\nI'm so happy you ain't listen to your friends, babe\nYou can tell me how you want it, how you need it, I don't mind\nNeed you right here by my side, 'cause out of sight is out of mind\nAnd out of spite you hit decline, but I was hype\nI hit your line a few more times than you hit back I'm gon' respond\nYou might also like\nTell me how you want it, yeah\nCall me and I'm on my way (On my way, on my way, woah)\nTell me that you need me, yeah\nI'll give it to you night and day (Night and day, night and day, go)\nI'm talkin' 'bout Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Saturday, Sunday\nMonday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday\nAll day, 24\/7\nYeah, all day, 24\/7\n\nUh, yeah\nYou be throwin' that shit back like it's a Thursday\nI be treatin' you like everyday your birthday\nThem hoes ain't fuckin' with you on your worst day\nI got you on a new level like what Ferg say\nWhen you fell down, I pick you up\nPut on your crown, and lift you up\nI put a rock all on your finger, so much ice could push a puck\nHeard they feelings 'bout you, baby, tell them hoes I wish 'em luck\nTalkin' relationship goals, this could be us, yuh\n24\/7, what's the 411?\nWhen you see me kneel like Kaepernick, call a reverend\nSee, I got a milli' in a stash for a weddin'\nIf you ready, let me know, 'cause it's whatever\nBut I know you in the worst way\nYeah, our anniversary\n'Bout to suit up on my birthday\n'Cause I know they keep you thirsty\nAin't no playin', this is us\nBoy, be gentle, ain't no rush\n365, you're the only one I trust\nNo, I can't get enough\nAnd all my ladies, if you feel me, help me sing it out\nYeah, yeah\nI'm talkin' 'bout Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Saturday\n\nTell me how you want it, yeah\nCall me and I'm on my way\nTell me that you need me, yeah\nI'll give it to you night and day\nI'm talkin' 'bout Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday Saturday, Sunday\nMonday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday\nAll day, 24\/7\nYeah, all day, 24\/7\nOh yeah\n\nEnd\nWhat I found out-\nI took a vow that from now on\nI'm gonna be my own best"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsSave Me Lyrics\n(Dougie on the beat)\n\nI fell in love with these streets, I seen a hundred thou\nStarted fuckin' bad bitches, I went runnin' wild (gone)\nI just pray Papi forgive me, ain't seen my son a while (I pray)\nI go and pick him up from school to see him fuckin' smile (facts)\nSomebody save me, save me\nTryna please a bitch, it almost drove me crazy\nI was breakin' bread with niggas that was shady\nI said I would never change, but shit it changed me\nSomebody save me, save me\nTwenty-three and one, it almost drove me crazy\nIn a cell all alone, can't let it phase my\nI just wanna make it home to see my baby\n\nI fell in love with these streets, I seen a hundred thou\nBustin' choppers, sellin' dope, I went to runnin' wild\nThrew a drum up in my forty, shoot a hundred times\nTwo hundred thou my cousin's case to see his daughter smile\nSomebody save me, save me\nAll this lean and all these percs gon' drive me crazy\nI see niggas switchin' sides like they KD\nI can't let it kill my vibe 'cause I'm too wavy\nThis what I wanted, I'ma own it\nAnything I ever said I'm standin' on it\nGot my dog in the feds, he turned informant\nI just pray that he don't say some shit to harm us\nYou might also like\nI fell in love with these streets, I seen a hundred thou\nStarted fuckin' bad bitches, I went runnin' wild (gone)\nI just pray Papi forgive me, ain't seen my son a while (I pray)\nI go and pick him up from school to see him fuckin' smile (facts)\nSomebody save me, save me\nTryna please a bitch, it almost drove me crazy\nI was breakin' bread with niggas that was shady\nI said I would never change, but shit it changed me\nSomebody save me, save me\nTwenty-three and one, it almost drove me crazy\nIn a cell all alone, can't let it phase me\nI just wanna make it home to see my baby\n\nOne time my dog tried to line me, must've lost his mind\nWhen he know how we get down when niggas cross the line\nAnd I hate to be the one that gotta call his mom\nThat money mix up with that greed, it happen all the time\nIf I can't trust you, it's fuck you\nKnow that money ain't a thang, I tell 'em touch you\nKnow them boys gon' bust your brain, I push a button\nTo make it home to see me son, know I'm gon' crush you\n'Cause that's important, to keep it one hundred\nI just wanna make it home to see my youngin (Papi)\nMove my family out the ghetto all I wanted\nLeft me dancin' with the devil, chasin' this money\nAmen\nI fell in love with these streets, I seen a hundred thou\nStarted fuckin' bad bitches, I went runnin' wild (gone)\nI just pray Papi forgive me, ain't seen my son a while (I pray)\nI go and pick him up from school to see him fuckin' smile (facts)\nSomebody save me, save me\nTryna please a bitch, it almost drove me crazy\nI was breakin' bread with niggas that was shady\nI said I would never change, but shit it changed me\nSomebody save me, save me\nTwenty-three and one, it almost drove me crazy\nIn a cell all alone, can't let it phase me\nI just wanna make it home to see my baby\n\nAnd I'm so tired of makin' moves and gotta keep the tool\nGotta hide it from my son, I pick him up from school\nWith them papers with it, some would tell me I'm a fool\nBut all these hatin' niggas wanna see me on the news\nAnd they debating on a nigga if I'm gon' win or lose\n'Bout this paper I seen real niggas forget the rules\nAnd I can't trust these bitches, I know they gon' pick and choose\nNo I can't trust these bitches, I know they gon' pick and choose\nAmen\n\nI fell in love with these streets, I seen a hundred thou\nStarted fuckin' bad bitches, I went runnin' wild (gone)\nI just pray Papi forgive me, ain't seen my son a while (I pray)\nI go and pick him up from school to see him fuckin' smile (facts)\nSomebody save me, save me\nTryna please a bitch, it almost drove me crazy\nI was breakin' bread with niggas that was shady\nI said I would never change, but shit it changed me\nSomebody save me, save me\nTwenty-three and one, it almost drove me crazy\nIn a cell all alone, can't let it phase me\nI just wanna make it home to see my baby"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsDope Dealer Lyrics\nThere's three types of niggas in life\nNiggas that make it happen\nNiggas that watch it happen\nAnd niggas that don't even know what the fuck is going on\nChoose one...\n\nI got all these bad bitches twerkin\u2019\nWaves on swim, shit surfin\u2019\nI don\u2019t want y\u2019all niggas \u2018round me\nBroke niggas make me nervous\nShawty said she want that paper\nPop pussy like she workin\u2019\nDamn, a nigga finally famous\nRari by the Benz, I\u2019m swervin\u2019 (SKR SKR!, SKR! SKR!)\nFuck rap, I might sell swag\nShe want me \u2018cause she know i got that Chanel tag\nShe fuck me and she gone get that Chanel swag\nHer boyfriend like, \u201cWhere you get that Chanel bag?\u201d\n55 hundo, pop green, and I ball\nLike Rondo\nCatch me, north side, with a dime ho\nTurnt up, but I\u2019m like keep calm ho\nI go, make a million here, million there\nAll of my niggas, we really in here\nGot a bad bitch, and she straight from the hood\nBut she look like a foreign, brazilian hair\nAnd I\u2019m grabbin' her remi\nI bust like a semi, yo bitch (BA BA!)\nI get your girl pregnant\nYou hatin\u2019 all on me, you sick (HA HA!)\nI ride in my hood in a Bently like it\u2019s a Crown Vic (SKR SKR!)\nThese bitches is choosin\u2019\nYou niggas is losin\u2019\nWe rich\nWhatchu expect? (Haah?)\nYou might also like\nWanna fuck with a dope dealer? (Dope dealer)\nOr keep fuckin\u2019 them broke niggas? (Broke niggas)\nAnd I don\u2019t fuck with you ho niggas (NAH!)\nRollie yellow like Homer Simpson\nThat\u2019s dope, nigga!\nI got all these dope dealers serving\nCut the work up, they surgeons\nI don't want y'all bitches 'round me\nWhack bitches make me curve 'em\nImported rug, that's Persian\nOne wheel up and we swervin'\nWetter than a lake, that's Ricki!\nPop pussy like she Nicki\nShe want me cause she see me in that Aventador\nPull up on the curb so crazy, I done bent the door\nBad bitch wanna borrow it, I lent it to her\nMake her bust that pussy open in Singapore\n30 million though, Forbes list\nOut in Philly in a condo, boss shit\nNow they call me Young Oprah; Harpo\nIn the pool rockin' polo, Marco\nMillionaires, never do leers\nNo, they can't see me, they're never my peers\nFruits of my labor, go get me my pears\nCause you're outta your element; I am your fear\nSo go get off my testicle, pardon my decimal, bitch!\nCheck up my resum\u00e9, I'm upper echelon rich\nThem bikes is out and we throwing 'em up like we sick\nMy clothing line is out in them stores and I'm sipping a Myx, bitch!\nWanna fuck with a dope dealer?\nOr keep fuckin\u2019 them broke niggas?\nAnd I don\u2019t fuck with you ho niggas (NAH!)\nRollie yellow like Homer Simpson\nThat\u2019s dope, nigga!\n\nDC, Double M\nMastermind\nYou say my name and bitch I gotta grant your wish (BOSS!)\nSticky fingers, 30 K\nYou better drop that brick (drop that brick)\nPhilly brothers, sometimes they call me Ock! (call me Ock!)\nI pray to God, everyday I drop my top (Thank you Lord!)\nHumble man, with me and the Lord Meek\nI'm the shit, coming down Broad Street\n\"Sal\" Magluta, \"Willy\" Falcon\nFlamboyant dough boy, talkin' Al Capone (ROZAY!)\nFrom Monte Carlo to Los Muchachos\nMy Mexicanos not talking tacos\nThis jewelry tampered once, a nigga push that button\nOn the corner Pac-Man Jones, these niggas don\u2019t want nothin'\nYou wanna fuck wit a dope dealer? Or keep fuckin' them broke niggas?\nMy sneaker deal like A.I.'s\nWe drink Belaire like St. Ides\nWanna fuck with a dope dealer?\nOr keep fuckin\u2019 them broke niggas?\nAnd I don\u2019t fuck with you ho niggas (NAH!)\nRollie yellow like Homer Simpson\nThat\u2019s dope, nigga!"}
{"text":"Yeah!\nR.I.P. Dex Osama, Lil Snupe\nAll the fallen soldiers\nScooter, Truce\n\nWhen they killed my nigga Snupe, I seen my young nigga\nIn the casket he ain't even have no blood in him\nProlly the reason why I keep taking these drugs quicker\nAin't got no patience for these motherfuckin' fuck niggas\nI watch everybody change, they thought I lost it\nBut now they all bustin' U-ies its gon' cost 'em\nI seen Chino shut the casket on the coffin (Truce)\nKilled his only big brother and we lost him\nSo I'ma hold it down 'til we all win\nWe've been at the Clearport ballin'\nI just want to see my niggas flossin'\nHundred bands everytime I walk in\nIf you keep it trill you'll get a blessing for it\nDeep down in the trenches with that Wesson on me\nMy mama, she can't sleep, I come here early mornings (mama)\nBut mama I got thirty in this dirty .40\nAny weapon formed against me shall not prosper\nUsed to pray them Ramen noodles turned to lobster\nGotta watch my own homies on the roster\nCause this the type of money'll get your lined up\nYou might also like\nAnd I can't trust nobody\nThey hit your homie and they knocked the soul out him\nThey said that they would ride or die but ain't nobody roll 'bout it\nThree felonies, ain't graduate, no I am not your role model\nI hope the Lord got us\n\nWhen they killed my nigga, I seen the footage on the tape\nMan I must've threw up everything I ever ate\nMan I know he got some dice at the Heaven gates\nKicking shit with all these bitches like he's Kevin Gates\nRelax your mind and kick your feet way up\nSelling dog food tryna feed my pups\nYoung rich nigga and I'm built Ford Tough\nAnd I'm going through stuff\nI don't feel no love\nI shake your body and you still wake up\nTaking Perkys, man I fill my cup\nThe feds watching and they still might come, I'm gone\nI wan' see my brother with the Patek, not the static\nGucci wrap your toe up, got retarded with my daddy\nAll they seen was red bottoms bleeding by the casket\nPerkys got me focused, I done noticed all the damages\nI don't see no purpose, in the county eating sandwiches\nLost so many niggas, I went crazy, I couldn't balance it\nYou can't question God, yeah, yeah, and then there's challenges\nSipping on this Actavis, I swear, I gotta manage it\nSRT the challengers\nMake that work do acrobatic flip, accurate\nAnd I'm leaning like a project banister\nI'm a boss, I ain't never need a manager\nGot rich, with thugs scandalous, ayy\nFuck it, we ball, yeah\nAll the soldiers we lost, yeah\nFuck it, we ball-ooh-all\nFor all the soldiers we lost\nShawty on percocets in the bag\n(All the soldiers we lost)\nGot a Rollie and a Pateky in my bag\n(All the soldiers we lost)\nShe just got a nose job and it wasn't that bad\n(Fuck it, we ball)\nI was juggin' round the city, I came back, ayy\nFuck it, we ball\nYeah, fuck it, we ball\nTear down the mall, yeah\nFuck it, we ball\nTear down the mall, ayy"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsFall Thru Lyrics\nYeah\nSad to say it but I love you\nDon't take no offense but you're my bitch\n\nYeah, you gone fall through every time a nigga call you\nThat's why I ball how I ball when I spoil you\nWe was in Miami, first time I saw you\nI was in a Phantom when I pulled up on you\nIt was late nights, late nights in the bando\nFucking on you good got you bustin' like you Rambo\nAnd you keep it hood so you really understand though\nYou was there through my ups and downs like a camel\n\nAss all fat say she get it from her mama\nShe just want the money, she ain't fuckin' with no bloggers\nFuck you on a PJ the whole way to the Bahamas\nGucci, Valentino, baby, I can be your stylist\nFuck me with your friend, yeah yeah, you was wildin'\n1942 shots turn you to a monster\nThuggin' like you 2Pac, you know that I got you\nLove the way you ride it, move them hips like you Rihanna\nI was supposed to hit, I was never s'pose to cuff you\nPut you on my homie 'cause he say he wanna fuck you\nWhen he asked me 'bout you, I just told him that I want you\nBut now its quiet for you, 'cause I told him that I loved you\nYou might also like\nYou gone fall through every time a nigga call you\nThat's why I ball how I ball when I spoil you\nWe was in Miami, first time I saw you\nI was in a Phantom when I pulled up on you\nIt was late nights, late nights in the bando\nFucking on you good got you bustin' like you Rambo\nAnd you keep it hood so you really understand though\nYou was there through my ups and downs like a camel\n\nI was locked up, I remember when I hit you\nUsed to write me back every letter that I sent you\nYou wasn't my girl but you used to pretend to\nWhen I came home, let me beat it instrumental\nLame left you scarred so I had to reinvent you\nIf you was car, shit, you ride it like a Benz do\nWraith it with the stars, every time I come and get you\nWe be goin' hard every time you on that Hen' too\nI was in the mix, actin' like a savage\nGot another bitch and you told me I could have it\nI know you was sick so I doubled back to grab you\nSo anything you wish, yeah yeah, you can have it\n\nYou gone fall through every time a nigga call you\nThat's why I ball how I ball when I spoil you\nWe was in Miami, first time I saw you\nI was in a Phantom when I pulled up on you\nIt was late nights, late nights in the bando\nFucking on you good got you bustin' like you Rambo\nAnd you keep it hood so you really understand though\nYou was there through my ups and downs like a camel\nWhoa, she just want a ride with a shotta, though\nI'm an original don dada, though\nKnock them all down like dominoes\nMake me tell them other bitches, vamonos\nWhoa, good gal, bad gal, small city, mad world\nShe just wanna shine, whoa\nAnd last night was mad real, sunshades, advils, fuck you all the time\n\nYou gone fall through every time a nigga call you\nThat's why I ball how I ball when I spoil you\nWe was in Miami, first time I saw you\nI was in a Phantom when I pulled up on you\nIt was late nights, late nights in the bando\nFucking on you good got you bustin' like you Rambo\nAnd you keep it hood so you really understand though\nYou was there through my ups and downs like a camel"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsFlexing Lyrics\nStuntin' all on my old hoes, styling all on my haters\nPresidential is rose gold, say it's time to get paper\nGlock 10 with that laser, fuck around meet yo maker\nEvery month got me pissin', fuck around with them papers\nSo I can't smoke no kush, I can't smoke no kush\nBut I ran through them hoes, and I ain't talk 'bout Reggie Bush\nI say y'all fuck niggas so fold, hoes ain't never gon' look\nIn the kitchen with that pyrex and a 9 piece, let me cook\nNow hold up, I went and bought a Phantom cause I wanted to\nAnd now I drive the same whips as Stunna do\nReal nigga, 100 proof\nI'ma need a 100 M's to make me comfortable\n\nStuntin' all on my old hoes, styling all on my haters\nPresidential is rose gold, say it's time to get paper\nBig crib with no neighbors, ball hard but no Lakers\nSpent a 100 racks on my chain, all them hoes know my name\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these niggas\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these bitches\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these niggas\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these bitches\n\nAll I know is just flex, shittin' on my ex\nBad hoes on my team, dick 'em down like Next\nI rock YSL so fresh, fly as hell no jet\nWaves on 360, make that pussy get so wet\nShe say I'm cocky, I say that's not me\nShe call me papi and I say ven aqui\nWrist wear on hockey, Porsche box like Ali\nMy sneaks they bally, in my hood I'm prolly just rollin 'round in that ghost\nWatching out for them folks\nHeater on my hip, trunk full of that work\nI say my shooters like Dirk, 10 racks and you murk\nI put that on yo head nigga, first week and you dead nigga\nI bottle pop, I model pop\nPull up on them bikes, let the throttle pop\nNiggas know I'm nice, and I got a lot\nLike fuck yo corner, I buy the block\nYou might also like\nStuntin' all on my old hoes, styling all on my haters\nPresidential is rose gold, say it's time to get paper\nBig crib with no neighbors, ball hard but no Lakers\nSpent a 100 racks on my chain, all them hoes know my name\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these niggas\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these bitches\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these niggas\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these bitches\n\nI don't chase no bitches, I just chase my dreams\nWe ridin' 'round so dirty in this whip that's so clean\nMy old head, she 30 but that dick suck so mean\nAnd that pussy just so good for that pipe, she my fiend\nOn that pint I just lean, perk got me bent\nIf you ain't talking 'bout money, you ain't got no sense\nSmell it on my clothes, work got that scent\nIn that kitchen with them birds, 'bout to serve up that's din' - Hold up!\nOZ's and whole keys, straight white and no trees\nGreat white and OZ's and they might just OD\nI stay tight with OG's, they know I'm real nigga\nPocket full of them racks and my bank account, Meek Mill nigga\n\nStuntin' all on my old hoes, styling all on my haters\nPresidential is rose gold, say it's time to get paper\nBig crib with no neighbors, ball hard but no Lakers\nSpent a 100 racks on my chain, all them hoes know my name\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these niggas\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these bitches\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these niggas\nI be flexin', flexin', flexin' on these bitches"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsIntro Lyrics\nYeah\nWe in the championship\nWe was down 3-1\nYeah\n(I can feel it coming in the air tonight)\nPhilly\nChampions of the United States (Oh lord)\n(And I've been waiting for this moment for all my life)\nYeah\nTurn me up Cruz (Oh lord)\n\nBombin' on any of them niggas that want the smoke (Woo)\nNigga, this a big boy Phantom, this ain't a Ghost (It ain't)\nHad to take the way from them niggas and now they toast (Fuck 'em)\nThey ain't have no sympathy for me when I was broke\nAmen, amen\nLord forgive me (Lord forgive me) for all my sins (All my sins)\nTook so many riches just to get a Benz (Get a Benz)\nPray for my niggas (All my niggas), all my friends (Yeah)\nIn the trenches, warring with killas, we been getting it in\n32 shots in my new Glock (Yeah)\nNiggas wanna hit me like I'm 2Pac (Yeah)\nBad bitch fuck me in my Gucci tube socks (Yeah)\n'Member when I spent my re-up on a oowop, woah\nYour favorite rapper a mumble rapper\nWalk up in this bitch, a bunch of killers and humble trappers\nI can't go to Hollywood, to cool in this jungle action\nWith niggas that'll smoke you, go and murder your brother after\nWhoa, big dog, nigga, I'm a big dog\nStreets said they need that dope, they having withdrawals\nI put on my yellow diamonds when I'm pissed off\nI'm so rich that I can't even fuck a bitch raw, whoa\nDo you know the feeling? (Do you?)\nBeing irritated 'cause you gotta count a million\nAll this fucking money, I ain't got no time for chilling\nWe took risks to look like this, through all that killin' and drug dealin'\nYou my nigga, I fuck with you, we gon' thug it out\nSay it's beef? We going to war, nigga, let's slug it out\nBig Bad Wolf, we at your door, blow down your fucking house\nI heard your daddy was a rat, so you a fucking mouse, nigga\nPouring champagne 'cause all my niggas dead\nIf they ain't in the graveyard, then they in the feds\nI give a fuck if that crown heavy, put it on my head\nTake it to the jeweler, bust it down before I wear it (Yeah)\nWhew, 'cause I'm a king just like Martin Luther (Martin Luther)\nI ain't a hater, fuck my bitch, nigga, I salute ya (Salute)\nI be flying jet and chopper like that shit was Uber\nWe finally made it out them trenches nigga, hallelujah, whoa\nBalling like a hot boy\nDiamonds dancing on me more than JB Blocboy\nI'm a boss, I'm the one that call the shots, boy (Shots)\nYou a thottie, I won't cuff you like a cop, whore, no way (Like a cop)\nOoh, I just cashed out\nHow the fuck you turn a bando to a glass house?\nHow the fuck you get a two-to-four and bailout?\nGot your favorite Instagram bitch with her ass out, hey\nMake her touch her toes, make her touch her toes (Touch it, touch it)\nRun up like a milli' off a couple shows (Run it up)\nTrappin' at the Waldorf, we just fuckin' hoes\nAnd they lovin' that Chanel, they gon' sell they souls (Yeah)\nRunning through the gutter, I ain't never bowl (Running)\nYou would think this Wheel Of Fortune, how we selling O's (Yeah)\nPlug just called, he got another load\nHe know I'ma get them sold\nLeaning off that Perc'\nYoung nigga still fucking all the baddest bitches on Earth\nWhen I'm off in them trenches, I'm a hot boy like Turk\nGunshot is itching in that Glock, boy, that's work\nYou get popped, pussy, no twerk, oh\nNigga, we trying to make that money machine break ('Chine break)\nShootin' up out that van like it's Team-A (Team-A)\nNigga, we used to trap here by the green gate (Gate)\n80s baby, they cooked crack up in my DNA (Oh)\nOoh, scary hours\nWalk inside of LIV, they gon' let confetti shower\nYou knew what it was when you heard they let me out it\nLiving like the plug, nigga, I ain't selling powder, no way\nBig bag, talkin' Santa Claus\nGot three hoes off that molly rippin' panties off\nFlying private to Dubai, we off the Xanny bars\nOoh, scary hours, turn the cameras off, pleaseYou might also like"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsCold Hearted Lyrics\nYeah, la-da-da, la-da-da-da, yeah\n\nI never had a role model\nI was loading gold hollows in my little Glock-40\nA little shorty, heart colder than December in the morning\nAnd I think it was December when they swarmed me\nNiggas is jealous, fuck can they tell us\nWith them dreams they try to sell us? Probably why I'm rebellious\nTo a fraud nigga, I lost niggas when I got paper\nIt's like more money I made, they got faker\nAnd it's crazy when your best friend turn into your top hater\nWanna roll out on you and smoke you like top paper\nDamn, what a feeling when you and your homie chilling\nAnd you know he got thoughts of probably robbing and killing you\nMomma said don't ever, ever let them belittle you\nAnd stay away from them haters cause they'll riddle you\nLast year was like a bad year\nEven though I touched more paper than a cashier\nSmall circle, I ain't never really 'round squares\nThey say there's levels to this shit, you niggas downstairs\nDifferent floors for different bulls\nDifferent tours on different jets, my niggas saw\nDifferent city with different bitches and different whores\nSometimes I look in the mirror, Meek Milly, this your car?\nLook at your arm, check out your neck, look at your charm\nAnd to think my niggas started off with cooking raw\nWhen it was hard the coach told me to get the ball\nI step back for the three, watch it go swish and fall\nAnd that was and-one, they thinking how we get this far?\nWe was just down by three and they thought we took a loss\nThey couldn't D me like Earl Boykins, I'm sticking soft\nTried to pick me off like Champ Bailey but I'm Randy Moss\nAnd I ran it all for the touchdown, what now?\nGold AP all bust down, fuck clowns\nYou might also like\nMy heart getting cold, and the streets getting colder\nThey said I wouldn't make it no way\nI think my heart getting colder, my heart getting cold\nTold them I would make it one day, only Lord knows\n\nDedicated, determinated and disciplined\nWhen Diddy, Hova, and Baby talking, I'm listening\nWhen I be in the jungle, the Devil be whispering\nSlugs flying by me I hear them, they whistling\nThat was a close call\nStand up nigga so I won't fall\nMy teacher told me I would never go far\nSeen him last week, he was my chauffeur, I was like \"told y'all\"\nMommy was a booster, daddy was a shooter\nSo they couldn't blame me when I went and copped a Ruger\nLooking at my homies, see the ghost of Freddy Krueger\nCause if he catch you sleeping he's gon' knock out your medulla\nOblongata, I'm a father and my son don't see a lot of\nIf I don't get he gon' probably end up with a chopper\nIn a field out in Philly do you feel me?\nTold my momma I won't let these haters kill me\nGetting high even though it might derail me\nAnd I won't ever let these bitches see the real me, do you feel me?\nTimes change like the Rollie did\nNow I'm killing these niggas the way that Kobe did\nAyo, it gets fucked up when your own family start calling you up\nShit, money's the root of all evil\nFamily start telling you \"you acting different nigga\"\nYou're goddamn right I'm acting different\nWith all this motherfucking money\nBut then when it comes from your brother, your sister\nYour mother, your father, that shit hurts you to the core man\nWhen they start acting like something that you ain't never motherfucking seen\nYou done grew up motherfucker\nThey gave birth to you, know what I'm saying?\nYou got raised, you done played in the park with them\nThis money thing, this shit will fuck you up man\nYou got to watch what you ask for\nYou sure you want this son? You sure you want this money?\nYou sure you want this fame? You sure you want this power?\nShit have your own mama talking to you like you ain't shit\nYeah everybody want it, everybody need it, money motherfuckers\nGet money don't stop but I ain't mad at them\nShit, but shit even bosses got feelings you know?\nDear mama, dear papa, family, we're all we got\nDon't let this money bring us down\nShit, everybody eats B, everybody eats, everybody eats\nLet's go, hahahah\n\nUh, yeah\nAnd we started off as kids, stomach's touching our ribs\nAnd them streets all night like we ain't have nowhere to live\nI remember Sundays we ain't have nothing but Liv\nThirty thousand was the tab and you ain't have nothing to give\nI ain't trip, I ain't trip, I pour bottles, I ain't sip\nI let niggas shine bright, you still act like I ain't shit?\nLet you have them little hoes, they was all on my dick\nAnd your main wanted to fuck me nigga, I ain't hit\nTwenty chains, eight watches, can't fit on my wrist\nWhen I speak about them things I never said it's my shit\nI said it's ours nigga and when you're ready we're gonna ball nigga\nLike Kobe Bryant, Metta Peace and Gasol, nigga\nBut I know just what I saw nigga\nIt was envious, you looked sideways and I remembered it\nThe reason that my heart's cold now on some December shit\nYou used to give thanks for giving on some November shit\nTalking about the twenty-fifth, matter of fact the twenty-sixth\nMaybe it's the twenty-eighth, fuck it though my money's straight\nAs long as Papi smiling\nI'mma be on airplane mode flier than a pilot\nI've seen it, I've seen it\nJealousy in your eyes, I swear that look was deceiving\nAnd I was surprised man I ain't want to believe it\nYou said you would ride but shit, I know you ain't mean it\nBut yeah nigga I've seen it\nMy heart getting cold, and the streets getting colder\nThey said I would't make it no way\nI think my heart getting colder, my heart getting cold\nTold them I would make it one day, only Lord knows"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsWins & Losses Lyrics\nYou have to eat the dream\nYou have to sleep the dream\nYou have to dream the dream\nYou gotta touch\nYou have to see it when nobody else sees it\nYou have to feel it when it's not tangible\nYou have to believe it when you cannot see it\nYou gotta be possessed with the dream\nYeah, any weapon formed against us shall not prosper\nYoung nigga started with Oodles of noodles, now we eating lobster\n\nAs I walk through the valley with my ladder in flex\nI'm the realest nigga in it, I just happen to rap\nWhen they all thought we was finished, they was laughing at that\nSo I went and bought me a Dawn and flipped that hat to the back\nFuck 'em\nNew jewelry, new whips on the way now\nBrr, brr, that's yo bitch on the way now\nMama told me if you fall, never stay down\nStand up nigga, I can never lay down\nWins and the losses, it come with being bosses\nShoot a pussy nigga in his head if he cross us\nTake that shit to trial if the feds making offers\nFive hundred thou', lawyer said we lookin' awesome\nSwap that Patek for them cuffs, take them off us\nLil' bitch, call me Lil' Fish\nNiggas tryna turn my lights out, it's still lit\nStreets calling and they said they want some real shit\nYoung bull looking like he hit a real lick\nI got too many foreigns, man this shit getting borin'\nHalf a milli' last week, you would've thought I was touring\nNiggas tried to count me out, I guess they thought I was normal\nThey ain't know I was different, I'm like \"Lord be my witness\"\n'Cause we was fucking up them dishes in my grandmama kitchen\nGet a pigeon, do division, break it down on my niggas\nFuck they opinions why would I listen, they ain't see the vision\nWhen I had a foreign them bitches know I ain't see them bitches\nSo I'ma ball on 'em\nMagic City, let it fall on 'em\nAnd all my niggas stayed down with me\nKnow I be there if they call on me\nYeah!\nMy nigga bail half a milli, he made it home in a week\nEven my momma know how I'm rocking, I go on them streets\nGlock .40, keep it on me, we rolling 32 deep\nBulletproof everything, just let me know if it's beef\nWe bring the war, I just wanna shine like my Rollie\nPut in all this time that they owe me\nMade it to a nine and we litty\nDropping 60s too like we Kobe, oh\nPushing the foreigns, drive through the trenches (Trenches)\nTop of the food chain, head of commission ('Mission)\nWe wackin' niggas without permission ('Mission)\nNever was personal, it was business (Brrrrr!)\nSettle down, let it settle down\nCouldn't tell me shit when I was broke\nFuck they gon' tell me now?\nI'm running round\nGlock with a drum that hold a hundred rounds (Brrr!)\nIf it was \"Fuck them niggas\" then\nIt's fuck them niggas now, fuck 'em!\nNever change on my roll dawgs\n'Bout that Cain bang them thangs like we O-Dog\nWalk up in a dealer and I pull that rolls off\nThese niggas said I wouldn't make it like I told y'all\nAhh!You might also like"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsBelieve Lyrics\nYou know I still believe, still believe in you and me\n'Cause every night I go\u2005to\u2005sleep, go to\u2005sleep\nI can see it like a\u2005movie in my dreams\nPut my face in the dirt on the ground\nStill, I raise up to take back the crown, yes\nYou can break my body\nBut you can't lock the soul of a man down (Yeah, uh)\n\nFollow your dreams, not your addictions\nHow we gon' follow our dreams locked in a prison?\nThey tried to swallow me whole, God be my witness\nDeprive me out of my dreams but I'm relentless\nI want the money, ain't never want attention\nSo I don't pay attention to comments and all the mentions\n'Cause they ain't see my vision\nI was washin' dishes 'til my rags turned into riches\nGlad when it was Christmas\nWe ain't even barely get presents, but we was gifted\nIn the school of failure, we present, perfect attendance\nWelfare baby, we workin' with what they give us\nMade me some commas, judge still gave me a sentence\nNo period, city girls don't get scared when it's really real\nWhen your bank account twenty mil' and your house up on a hill\nAnd your fam in the driveway, you walk out and see the grill\nThank God you believe, make sure you pray when you kneel, yeah\nYou might also like\nYou know I still believe, still believe in you and me\n'Cause every night I go to sleep, go to sleep\nI can see it like a movie in my dreams\nPut my face in the dirt on the ground\nStill, I raise up to take back the crown, yes\nYou can break my body\nBut you can't lock the soul of a man down (Yeah, uh)\n\nMy bank account, it was on super-zero\nAin't never panic, I'm a superhero (Uh)\nTarget my goals and I'ma shoot the arrow\nWhen God turned the heat up on me, he said \"You De Niro\"\nPlay your part, got some brains like the scarecrow\nLet's play it smart, 'cause we ain't playin' checkers, this is chess, play your pawns\nSit back like a king, when they move, make your mark\nAnd never ever let your competition take your heart (Take your heart)\nSay I believe in myself\nWhen everybody stop believin', never leave on yourself\nThey had my back against the wall, I had to lean on myself\nAlmost made me put my dreams on the shelf, I'm trippin' (I'm trippin')\nLaws of attraction, you just think I'm rappin'\nI'm just puttin' out the energy so I can grab it\nEverything that's in my memory that I imagined\nIt's finally here, hundred million in a year\nI still believe, still believe in you and me\n'Cause every night I go to sleep, go to sleep\nI can see it like a movie in my dreams\nPut my face in the dirt on the ground\nStill, I raise up to take back the crown, yes\nYou can break my body\nBut you can't lock the soul of a man down\n\nAs I lay (As I lay) me down to sleep (Down to sleep)\nPray the Lord (Pray) my soul to keep (Soul to keep)\nFallen ones, (Fallen ones) rest in peace (R.I.P.)\nPlease, God, watch over me (Watch over me)\nAs I lay (As I lay) me down to sleep (Down to sleep)\nPray the Lord (Pray) my soul to keep (My soul to keep)\nFallen ones, (Fallen ones) rest in peace (R.I.P.)\nPlease, God, watch over me"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsCold Hearted ll Lyrics\nWoah, don't you, baby, hey\nIt won't matter, baby\nDon't you know?\nDon't you know?\nWoah, don't you, baby, hey\nIt won't matter, baby\nDon't you know?\nDon't you know?\n\nUh, make it out the hood, they say you Hollywood\nHow dare you niggas tell me that I got it good\nGotta check and treat these niggas like I'm Robin Hood\nWhen it was time to stand up for me, see, nobody stood\nAnd I was lookin' at you niggas, all the ones I fed\nHad me grindin' all them nights when you was going to bed\nAnd if you think I owe you something, nigga gon' ahead\nTreat you like I never knew you, put it on your head\nAnd I got Papi on my line like, 'When you comin' home?'\nMy mama see it in my face, she know that somethin' wrong\nBodies droppin' in my city all summer long\nOut on bail but I still gotta keep somethin' on\n'Cause I can't let 'em take my life, you might get left you make that right\nWhen he got left it wasn't right, but he was tryna live that life\nI call up Coon to book that jet, we like three deep, we take that flight\nUsed to land in California to play that studio all night, we stayin' down\nFor the love of them millions, ain't layin' down\nLeft you in the hood, what you sayin' now?\nAnd niggas wanted the smoke, you said, \"Stand down,\" uh\nCold heart, never get cold feet when the pressure come\nIt was beef, I had to tell niggas, \"You better come\"\nSister said they gettin' over, it's like you lettin' them\nSome shit I had to learn my lesson from, uh\nCheckin' in, checkin' out, I just had to check you out\n2012, it was 50 niggas when I'm steppin' out\nForgot the time you asked me for a check and I ain't lend it out\nI ain't even know you was upset, that's what this shit about?\nA green piece of paper can turn you to a hater\nWhen you can't bring up one time you returned me for a favor\nSo I pray these niggas real close, talkin' closer than my neighbors\n'Cause I know the signs when niggas switch sides, catch them vapors\nYou might also like\nUsed to be my dawg, you was in my left titty\nScream, \"Ride or die,\" I thought you would ride with me\nFound out you was jealous, you wouldn't even grind with me\nAnd when I copped the 6 you wanted the 550\nUsed to be my dawg, you was in my left titty\nScream, \"Ride or die,\" I thought you would ride with me\nFound out you was jealous, you wouldn't even grind with me\nAnd when I copped the 6 you wanted the 550\n\nSee, I look at it like this\nWhat I'm supposed to spend a thousand nights in the studio rappin' my lights out?\nGoin' city to city, can't take my son to school when I want to, can't see my mama, my family when I want to\nThey give a nigga my money, then act like he hangin' with me\nI ain't never been sweet\nFar as I can remember, every time I went to jail I had to stand up in that bitch by myself\nI ain't never even think about a nigga callin' my baby mama to pick my son up to take him to the movies\nGo play basketball while I'm doin' this time in the cell\nActin' like I owe you somethin'\nSee, it hurt my heart to see some of my closest friends turn their back on me about that attention needle\nOr a green piece of paper with a slave master on the front of that shit\nI used to hear niggas, niggas that I was feedin', I heard 'em whisperin', \"Meek Mill finished\"\nI was like, \"And damn, I was feedin' you, bro\"\nAll I did was keep grindin'\nThrough the storm, nigga, I'm like Derrick Rose on a 50-point night on a daily basis, nigga\nFor the love of the millions, royalty over loyalty, never get it confused\nI got real friends and family that'll never turn their back on me for the love of the money\nI got a homie that's doin' life\u2014he can't offer me no money, he can't offer me nothin' but a friendship and a relationship\nI talk to him seven days a week\nSo don't come to me talkin' 'bout no money shit, nigga\nSo if you feel some type of way about my money, we goin' to the furthest extent to protect that plate that goes in front of my son on the table, nigga\nOne love to all my family and friends that stayed down through all the madness\nWhile I had to sacrifice and put it all on the line\nOne time for my mom and sister that never changed on me, even before I had money\nRide or die, no matter what\nDreamchasers for life, you dig?\nUh, I told niggas stop askin' me where niggas at\nIf you don't see 'em in the pictures with me, that mean they faded away\nI got niggas I distanced myself from, we love each other, it's all love but everybody can't make it\nNiggas wanna burn a bridge and expect you to send a yacht, huh? Where they do that at?"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsReady or Not Lyrics\nMaybach Music!\nThey say your brain's most creative in your sleep\nSee, they say, in the sleep state\nThe brain thinks much more visually and intuitively\nHa, what is this? (Maybach Music)\nI like this Maybach Music! Swate!\nAs dreamchasers, we accomplish that wide awake\nTurn everything up a lil bit in the headphones!\nYou ready? (All-Star!)\n\nReady or not, here I come\nYou can't hide, nigga I'm too damn fly\nSippin' all of this purple, it got me too damn high\nThey say they're down for the team but playin' two damn sides\nI'm like niggas ain't loyal (no!), niggas ain't loyal (no!)\nAnd these voices in my head saying niggas ain't for you (nah!)\nAnd when you gettin money these niggas will aim for you (fire!)\nAnd when its looking sunny these niggas will rain on you\nIt's a dark cloud over me, money took control of me\nI'm barely getting time to see my son and that shit hurting me\nBaby momma trippin out, I tell her to work with me\nI'm on probation still strapped, 'cause niggas want to murder me\nAnd lately I've been getting faded (faded)\nCut a couple homies off cause them niggas hating (they hating)\nAnd all these bitches wanna fuck me\n'Cause a nigga made it (I made it!)\nI'm getting paper heart cold as the refrigerator\nYou might also like\nYoung nigga getting money\nYoung nigga getting money\nYoung nigga go and get it yeah\nAnd ain't a damn thing change but the bezel on my Rollie\nAnd the diamonds in my chain, yeah\n\nAs dreamchasers, we consider ourselves a creative upper class\nWhen it comes to ideas, we're just in a different tax bracket\nGangsta Grillz, you bastards! (Gangsta!)\n\nYoung rich nigga quarter millie worth of jewels (jewels)\nBad bitch with me trying blow me like a fuse (fuse)\nJust to get a bag or maybe a pair of shoes (shoes)\nAin\u2019t it crazy what your lady would do for a pair of Loubs, huh?\nBig dreams turn to big things (things)\nI\u2019ve been waiting on this day since I was 16 (16)\nBig chains, Aston Martin as I switch lanes (skrrt!)\nBefore I ever made a hit, I had a wrist game\nIn the kitchen with them thangs, trying make a killing (killing)\nWe in the building, every other month I make a million (yeah!)\nAny nigga talking reckless cause they think I\u2019m chilling\n'Til I put some money on their head, yeah, make 'em feel it\nHave they own homies do him like they never knew him (fire!)\nI'll have Omelly walk up on him when we run into him (fire!)\nClose range shorty have him put something through him\nSo I hope you're ready cause we heavy and we're coming for you\nYoung nigga getting money\nYoung nigga getting money\nYoung nigga go and get it yeah\nAnd ain't a damn thing change but the bezel on my Rollie\nAnd the diamonds in my chain, yeah\n\nDreamchasers 2\nWe decided to share the wealth again\nCare to join us?\n\nThe meek shall inherit the earth\nSo I\u2019ma own this bitch until I\u2019m buried in dirt\nI only roll with niggas that'll carry me to my hearse\nBlesses for my grandma, she carried me to that church\nAnd I don\u2019t know why, I just feel like I\u2019m the one (one)\nThey label me a victim but now look what I become ('come)\nOr should I say became, I don\u2019t do it for the fame\nI\u2019m from where they never make it but I went against the grain\nCharges riding against my name, assasination to my character\nLife\u2019s a bitch, she cheated on me but I married her\nNiggas getting murdered, this shit is getting scarier\nDodging all the potholes, jumping all the barriers\nAnd if she a bitch, I feel like I just got in that pussy (yeah)\nShorty wanna be a star, that\u2019s why she popping that pussy\nShe trying to win, so she hang amongst winners\nThat\u2019s why I take the time just to pray at mom\u2019s dinner (I pray)\nCause I remember, cold nights not the winter (not the winter)\nNot the weather, I\u2019m talk about within us (within us)\nCause for that money, sins they get committed\nAnd friends, they get to splittin', divided just like division\nSo every day that I wake up, my undivided attention\nIt goes to getting my cake up and staying out of them prisons\nYeah! The system made me stronger\nAnd being broke just gave me my hunger, I'm gone!\nNigga like me?\nI walk around, fear no man (no man!)\nI don't owe you niggas shit! (shit!)\nE'ry nigga you see around me\nThat's the niggas that's with me (my niggas)\nUnless they in jail or dead or something\nNigga livin' life like, \"Fuck all you niggas\"\nYou feel me?"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsB Boy Lyrics\n\nAll that ass, Lord have mercy\nAll that champagne, these bitches thirsty\nVerserchy, no hold up, I meant Versace\nI prolly pull up Roberto over Cavalli\nPuffin' on Cali, prolly out in the valley\nSippin' on something drowsy, bitches twerkin' like Miley\nTwerk, twerk for a real nigga sellin' work\nPromise I won't tell a word\nI been on that trill shit, way back\nNorth Philly nigga, but I'm laid back\nGet shot in your head drivin' your Maybach\nHomey D Clown know I don't play that\nSippin' dirty, riding dirty, I say hi to thirty\nCall your dog,  I call my dawg and he'll buy a birdy\nTry to school me, I'm getting out here early\nDope dealer, Puma life, back of this soccer jersey\nMink draggin', tell PETA I'm swaggin\nAll these karats like I'm tryna lure in a rabbit (Dag!)\nJust to put it (Put it where?) On my jacket (On my jacket)\n(What they askin?) What you doin? (What you doin?) Doin' fashion\n\nOkay, I walk with a limp and I talk with a slur\nI might wear every single chain and mix it up with my fur\nI might get every single drink and mix it up til I blur\nI tell the bitch get on my lap, but don't you get on my nerves\nI need that bag full of green like a lawnmower\nJohn Doe and all Sean Doe it, and I keep it G\nYeah, I ground floor it, and I'm pound blowin'\nIf her pussy good then I might one, two, three, round four it\nGot her down for it\nYeah, nigga overthink, never under stress\nYeah, I understand, your girl over, I'm so unimpressed\nYeah, and she tryna fuck me raw, unprotect\nBut if I don't have that rubber on it I feel under dressed\nYeah, and I got money bags under my eyes, ho, cause I ain't sleep\nThey all Goyard too cause I ain't cheap\nFinally Famous Aura Gold is my I-N-C\nAnd I put everything in motion like I-N-G\nAnd when we flyin' private you could bring the gun on with us\nI got this freak to 3rd base, she tryna run home with us\nAnd I got comma on comma on comma on comma... on comma\nAnd I ain't talking about no run on sentence\nYeah, nigga hot headed so I need that Chings Chili\nPut my P up on her head like that bitch is reppin' Philly\nAnd I wheelie in that pussy like my nigga Meek Milly\nOn my way to meet millis\nLawyer drafting up the deep deep dealies\nI got rich decided that ain't rich enough\nWhen I did it big, bitch, I decided that ain't big enough\nDead Pres, who you diggin up?\nWho that nigga that you hating on, but just  can't get enough?\nFuck, the jig is up, little bitch\nYou might also like\nI'm like Madoff but I made off, scheming on niggas' payoff\nI never take a day off, your stash is short like Adolf, Hitler\nYou should lay off on the gangsta talk cause you're fake, dog\nYou never pushed no yay, dawg, ain't see no keys like Ray Charles\nMe and Meek in the Maybach, we get Wale and take off\nWe got your bitch in a big house, she walk in hype like \"Hey, Ross, how you doing?\"\nGet with a dreamchaser, we ballin' hard like the Lakers\nYou ballin' out, you a faker, you prolly catchin' the vapors\nI'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor\nYou thinkin' Khloe don't know me, I'm in the car dashin' haters\nI'm in the Kardashian, get it? I'm lyin', can't I pretend?\nThey say fake it 'til you make it, well, let the fakin' begin\nI got a bitch with fake titties, fake ass, she all in the Benz\nThem titties'll prolly fall like a ball when she bend\nMy niggas from Harlem and Philly all get it in\nYour bitch come around then we fuckin' her and her friends\nCome get with a dreamchaser, we ballin' hard like the Lakers\nYou ballin' out, you a faker, you prolly catchin' the vapors\nCome get with a dreamchaser, we ballin' hard like the Lakers\nYou ballin' out, you a faker, you prolly catchin' the vapors\nI'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor\nI'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor\nI'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor\nI'm at your house on the hill, I fucked your girl and your neighbor, damn!\nWhat she do?\nShe, just, put, heart eyes under my pic nigga\nThat's my bitch nigga\nBought her a first class ticket to put the dick in her"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsA1 Everything Lyrics\nSee, I'm an A1 type of guy (Uh-oh!)\nI crush A1 hoes (true)\nRock A1 clothes (true)\nDrive A1 whips (true)\nAnd still pour A1 sauce on my shit\nI come from the bottom (Poppin the bottles!)\n\nCrushing all these hoes, rocking all this ice\nSelling all these O's, nigga, I done did that twice\nSo I'm just riding round in my Rolls, about to get on my bike\nJust to touchdown in my hood and I put that on my life\nI'm like yeah nigga, I'm there nigga, I ball hard all year, nigga\nMy diamonds all clear nigga, smack my chain you dead nigga\nI don't know what you heard, and I don't know what you thought\nBut all my dogs they murk, and all my dogs go hard, fuck that\nMy new young chick look exactly like Rihanna\nAss like Nicki, but she yellow like Madonna\nI take her to the mall, buy her all types of designers\nYSL, fly Chanel, all that Dolce & Gabbana\nI jump right back like 36, lean hard when I turn the whip\nIf I ain't have my rap deal, then I still be serving bricks\nSo I kill a pussy, I murder shit, homicide on shorty\nMy gold Role cost 60 racks, my rose gold cost 40\nYou might also like\nI get A1 money, I'm an A1 nigga\nGot a A1 swagger, I'm getting A1 bitches\nI just bought me a Rollie, you can skate on nigga\nIf they don't love it, they hate it, well get your hate on nigga\n'Cause I got A1 everything, A1 everything\nA1 everything, I get A1 everything\nI got A1 credit, A1 hoes\nI drive A1 whips, and I rock A1 clothes\nGangsta\n\nPray to God, I wash my hand but I be damned\n2012, 100 racks to Uncle Sam\nA 24 year old millionaire\nDon't read the contract 'less a mill in there\nA1 credit, park my car bowlegged\nI got a bus full of bitches, I call it Jay-rome Bettis\nI grab my dick in the picture, your ho be cropping the image\nI let you scrape off the dishes, we eating nigga, I'll finish\nThen come right back, hope you insomniac\nSleep on me if you wanna take a dirt nap\nBitch I'm talking ca-ca-ca-ca then more ca-ca-ca-ca\nHit your roof until I pop your top up\nThen more ca-ca-ca-ca, til I know I gotcha\nBallin like I'm baldin', then I see Jordan in the mirror\nNigga, that's flawless VVS, and CC text me, \"What you wearing?\"\nPuttin my all inside your bitch, I grip her hips, that's power steering\nAbout to hydroplane when I board that plane\nAnd land inside the building\nI get A1 money, I'm an A1 nigga\nGot a A1 swagger, I'm getting A1 bitches\nI just bought me a Rollie, you can skate on nigga\nIf they don't love it, they hate it, well get your hate on nigga\nCuz I got A1 everything, A1 everything\nA1 everything, I get A1 everything\nI got A1 credit (Credit), A1 hoes (Hoes)\nI drive A1 whips, and I rock A1 clothes, I'm gone!"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsIssues Lyrics\nLord, forgive me for my sins, used to pray to get a brick\nNigga icy like it's hockey, and I'm playin' with them sticks\nHe don't like me, but he gotta respect the fact we gettin' rich\nNigga threw a shot and missed me, threw 'em back and he got hit\nBrrrt, brrrt\nWent from public housing to a glass house (Glass house)\nFuckin' famous bitches in my trap house\nMy main bitch fight my side bitch, Kash Doll\nThe only way to keep them quiet when I cash out (Woo!)\nWhat you doin'? Gettin' paid, young nigga\nHow you in the mob? 'Cause I'm made, young nigga\nSay you need a job, come my way, young nigga\nAnd if I point 'em out, better spray them niggas, bop!\nI'm a bad influence (Bad influence, ho)\nTalkin' money and I speak it fluent (Speak it fluent, ho)\nPaid a couple mill' to wear Puma (Wearing Puma)\nI thank God for all this sauce, hallelujah, woo (Amen, amen, amen)\nYeah I knew it, hatin' on me, yeah, I knew it (Yeah, I knew it)\nCome down to that check, I'm like Nike, I just do it (I just do it)\nBoy I must be poppin', they keep poppin' up with rumors (Poppin')\nWhere and who I'm poppin', what I'm coppin'\nWho I'm screwin' (Who I'm screwin')\nWhat you doin'? (Wait a minute)\nGettin' paid (Gettin' paid)\nShe said, \"Meek, you know my boyfriend\nAnd what's his name\" (What's his name)\nYeah I know him, mhmm, he a lame (He a lame)\nDon't you ever bring that fuckboy up again\nYou might also like\nPoppin' all this shit, need some tissue\nI can't trust a bitch 'cause I got issues\nYoung rich nigga so official\nNeck so disrespectful, might offend you (Woah)\nBunch of bad broads on the menu\nBunch of foreign cars when we bend through\nNeck so disrespectful, might offend you\nWhen it's time for war we send the missiles (Woah)\n\nHangin' by the rope buy some dope (Buy some dope)\nPretty hoe, deep throat 'til she choke (Ooh)\nPussy good, super wet, need a boat (Need a boat)\nNiggas tryna ride my wave, let 'em float (Let 'em die)\nPut my young bull on the chain 'cause I miss Snupe (Miss Snupe)\nFuck a bad broad, make her kiss Snupe (Kiss Snupe)\nI can't ever tell a bitch, \"I miss you\" (Miss you)\nBetter not tell nobody if I kiss you (Bitch, you)\nKiss and tell, fuck you good, hit you well (Hit you well)\nI just made like 20 M's, they say it's an L (What?)\nNiggas prayin' that I fall and I wish 'em well\nBitch you crazy, I'm too wavy, I'm like Biggavel'\n\nPoppin' all this shit, need some tissue\nI can't trust a bitch 'cause I got issues\nYoung rich nigga so official\nNeck so disrespectful, might offend you (Woah)\nBunch of bad broads on the menu\nBunch of foreign cars when we bend through\nNeck so disrespectful, might offend you\nWhen it's time for war we send the missiles (Woah)\nHit 'em with finesse, kill 'em with success\nNigga lookin' broke, give them niggas stress (Broke)\nDon't do some shit you know that you gon' regret\nReachin' for my neck, that'll get you stretched (Brrrt, brrrt)\n\nPoppin' all this shit, need some tissue\nI can't trust a bitch 'cause I got issues\nYoung rich nigga so official\nNeck so disrespectful, might offend you (Woah)\nBunch of bad broads on the menu\nBunch of foreign cars when we bend through\nNeck so disrespectful, might offend you\nWhen it's time for war we send the missiles (Brrrt, brrrt)"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsPullin Up Lyrics\nWe wanted the world, baby\nThat's why we ended how we ended\nWe chose to live how we live\nWell now you found the one, baby\nAnd you ain't tryna see nobody but him\nNobody but him\nOoh, ooh, but I know you well\nOoh, ooh, girl, I know you well\n\nTell your man wait inside when I'm pullin' up\nTell your man wait inside when I'm pullin' up\nWhen I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up\nWhen I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up\n\nUh, pull up on ya, put it on ya\nFuck you in the car, if he looking for you\nSeen you with your man and said, \u201cWhat up to ya\u201d\nLike you ain't give me that work\nIt was California, 5 in the morning\nI was plottin' on ya, we was hot as sauna\nTryna pop up on ya\nAnd fuck you good on that purp\nWe linkin' up gettin' faded, we fell in love and we made it\nWe only would fuck, never dated\nCome get your lady, all this Ice on me she skated\nThat pussy was good as Crustaceans\nI'm in the latest, she ride the D like Mercedes\nI might just call her Mercedes\nRockin' Margiela I might just act like a mason\nWill tell nobody you my baby\nShe fell in love with the real\nNow she don't fuck with the fakers\nMe and her nigga was sharing a home\nI'm talking like Clippers and Lakers\nAnd she get the D from her favorite\nThat pussy got me going crazy\nI know that these niggas gon' hate it\nBut we only trip when we trip to Jamaica\nJust tell \u2018em\nYou might also like\nTell your man wait inside when I'm pullin' up\nTell your man wait inside when I'm pullin' up\nWhen I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up\nWhen I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up\n\nPullin' up on that new thang\nMulsanne and my boo thang\nAnd she's-a-dime like Hussein\nAnd we kick shit, Liu Kang\nAnd Chun-Li, is only one me\nI'm like Bun B how I screw things\nFront stroke, back stroke\nI came, you came\nAnd your main nigga ain't fuckin' with me\nHe ain't fuckin' with me\nTell that nigga go wait inside\nWhen I pull up on you, you coming with me\nTalk dirty, you say it's mine\nYou say it's mine when I'm cuming in it\nBroke boys don't deserve pussy\nTherefore, you ain't fucking with her\nI'mma be there when that nigga get fly\nSoon as he slippin, I'm making you mine\nBuy you a Rollie to make up for time\nAnd flood it all out to make sure you shine, girl\nI never waited in line, girl\nLet me just take you to my world\nSoon as that nigga stop frontin' on you\nYou get the D from behind, girl\nTell your man wait inside when I'm pullin' up\nTell your man wait inside when I'm pullin' up\nWhen I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up\nWhen I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up\n\nNa na na na nah, na na na na nah, na na na na nah\nOoh, ooh\nWhen I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up, when I'm pullin' up"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsTony Story, Pt. 2 Lyrics\nPaulie killed Tony right? (Right)\nAnd Tony killed Ty, so it was only right (Right)\nThinkin' back twenty years, they was homies, tight\nSixth grade, for the love of the paper, ain't nothin' nice (Uh-uh)\nAnd Paulie just a-loving life\nHe got them birds and he serving niggas left and right\nNever used to party in them clubs every night\nPopping bottles, blowing paper, balling hard, he know they hate it\nBut they gon' respect it 'cause he rocked Tony (Tony)\nAnd Tony had the hood on smash by his lonely\nAnd Paulie getting money, so them bitches all on him\nAnd his young boys riding, they ready to fall for him (They ready)\n'Cause word on the street that Paulie did that (That)\nUsed Key gold, digging ass to get back (Back)\nText him through her phone, found out where he live at (Yeah)\nShe woke up in the morning like, \"I never sent that\"\nBut she never told Paulie what she saw\nShe was running her mouth, fitting to start a war\n'Cause Tony little brother sixteen and up the wall\nRobbing everything moving and breaking every law (Law)\nAnd Paulie on a rise now (On a rise)\nNiggas that played the middle pickin' sides now (Pickin' sides now)\nPlus, he heard Tony brother tryna ride now\nSo he put a check up on his head, he gotta die now (I want this nigga dead)\nYou might also like\nPaulie's youngest on the corner\nTony little brother, he slipping, yeah, he's a goner\nFuckin' with that lean, he dipping, one in the morning\nShots fired, niggas scatter without a warning\nHe strapped too, reachin', bet you they get up on him\nThe gat jam, he bang back, tryna avoid 'em\nThem niggas dumpin', he get up running and hittin' on 'em\nHe hit the alley, get a body, he dipping on 'em\nSaid, it's on now, try and kill him, it's war now\nSwisher in his mouth while loading his four pound\nFeelin' like he dead, it ain't no remorse now\nGettin' high and he thinking 'bout kicking in doors now (Get on the floor)\nMomma and little kids, get on the floor now (Ah)\nFinger on the trigger, he feel it, it's going down (Ooh)\nOld ladies gotta hear that thunderstorm sound\n'Cause they sad when it rain, it's really gon' pour down\nAnd it's raining like Katrina, he got thirty in his Nina (Strapped)\nSeen Paulie car dropped thirty in his Bimmer (Thirty)\nPaulie wasn't in it when, he heard it, he was steaming (Kill this nigga)\nAddicted to the murder, so you know that nigga fiendin'\nAnd he want this nigga dead 'fore Sunday hit (Hit)\nBut youngin tryna live on some Sunday shit (Yeah)\nAnd time fly fast, it was Monday quick\nAnd Paulie 'bout to get back on his gunplay shit\nAnd show 'em how it's done, so he loadin' up his gun (Murder)\nAnd show this young nigga he fucked with the wrong one\nGot a short temper and clutchin' the long gun\nAnd it's on sight, he don't give a fuck if the law come\nSo he out here\nRidin' dirty, put down them birdies\nAnd without fear, niggas lurkin'\nThey tryna murder, heard he out there\nNiggas spinnin', they try and hit him\nHittin' every corner, seein' niggas, but he ain't with 'em (He ain't)\nA youngin layin' low, he know Paulie ain't playin' though (Nah)\nThere's money on his head and niggas is sayin', \"Go\" (It's real)\nBut youngin, he ain't scared, he cool as a fan though\nHe know it's get down with that burner or end up a tagged-toe\nIt was four in the morn' (Morn'), Paulie goin' home (Home)\nWindshields wipin', middle of the rain storm (Storm)\nAnd Paulie, he ain't slipping, yeah, he got that thang on (Yeah)\nYou know what he did to Tony, he won't get the same song so (Damn)\nWhen he hit the crib, he spin the block 'fore he park it (Park)\nPaulie ain't a bitch, nah, Paulie just cautious\nBut little did he know, niggas in the streets talkin' (Talkin')\nAnd out his rear view, it's like he see the reaper walking (Yeah)\nNigga with a hoodie, all you hear is heaters sparkin'\nShots hit the window, get low, he tryna off him\nYoungin boxed him in and Paulie can see the coffin\nHe get to reaching, trigger squeezin', tryna get him off him (Ah)\nThem shots ringing, youngins squeezing, clip empty\nThat's when Paulie rose like Derrick, put six in him\nWalked down on him, he laying in a puddle\nLooked him in the face, \"You ain't learn from your brother, nigga?\"\nBaow, baow, baow"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsFace Down Lyrics\nI got a rubber in my pocket, and I'm talking like this\n\nFace down, ass up\nThat's the way we like to fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nFace down, ass up\nThat's the way we like to fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\n\nI got all these hoes trynna fuck\nI got pussy on my mind and got patron all in my cup\nAnd I got shawty on the line tryna do the \"you know what\"\nAnd I ain't gotta say no words, you know I swerve if you know her\n'Cause I don't play I'm like no way, and killing them hoes is 2 on 1\nI take her home I touch that down, you take her home and you gon' punt\n'Cause y'all gon' kick it, and about my business\nWhen it come to them hoes man I got them bitches like I got my city 'cause I run that shit\nBut I'm like face down and you're ass up and your ass up and you're face down\nShe coming up trynna catch breath, I grab her weave like stay down\nJust breathe ho, breathe ho\nK.O.D I'm balling hard, it's me, Sneak, and Breed ho\nLook I got a rubber off in my pocket, never slipping I got it\nBad bitch she look tropic, if she fuck me right then she shopping\nMatter-of-fact I'm lying, I'm high as fuck like I'm flying\nGot perks off in my system, I tell the hoes when I get them, put yo\nYou might also like\nFace down, ass up\nThat's the way we like to fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nFace down, ass up\nThat's the way we like to fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\n\nHer pussy good, my dick is gold\nI'm in yo hood I probably fucked your ho\nThese bitches nasty, I need my nuts licked\nThese bitches know I got that deep up in yo gut dick\nFace down, with yo back arched, fingers spread that ass apart\nAnd I'm deep in it and she leak in it, bust a couple nuts, then sleep in it\nDon't you try to run where that pussy going?\nI eat cray on the weekday, weekend her 3 friends\nGotta a nigga going off the deep end cause I'm deep in when I dove in\nAnd I'm so in when I go in, pussy feeling something like the ocean\nShe ain't even let a nigga know when, you just gonna leave a nigga soaking\nI'm with that and I get that finna send another nigga's bitch back, hold up\nI'm nasty and I know that\nYo ass big so throw that, yea bitch throw that, throw that\nHold up, hold up, my dick so swole up\nDeepthroat, throw up bad bitches know what? I want yo\nFace down, ass up\nThat's the way we like to fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nFace down, ass up\nThat's the way we like to fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\n\nCouple bad independent women in my section\nYou be tricking dollars I don't even pay attention\nAnd I do be popping bottles (true) and I don't think it's a problem (true)\nSo just hold up, let me open up with this ganja\nYa face down, ass up, o you think you all that\nI say that we should see wassup and play let's see who call who back (aha)\nAnd now you mad, saying that I treat you bad\nCause when I treat you how I treat you and leave you, you be needing baths\nNow we had Magic and Onix tryna see what's happening\nTrust me I throw this back she bust it like that Peter Pan\nSee the plan come alone or go back home\nAnd if they act like they dont know, play this muthafuckin' song\n\nFace down, ass up\nThat's the way we like to fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nFace down, ass up\nThat's the way we like to fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck\nThere's some hoes in this house tryna fuck"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsWhatever You Need Lyrics\n(Mustard on the beat, ho)\n\nGirl, as long as you wrap your arms 'round me\nOoh, baby, I don't care what them people say\nI'm givin' you whatever you want\nGirl, you know I can provide\nWhatever you need (Whatever you need, babe)\nListen to your heart, baby\n\nYeah, I'm the only young nigga who poppin' that\nGot her jumpin' out the heat, they like, \"Who coppin' that?\"\nNew G-Wagon got her braggin', put a lock on that\nNiggas always hit her DM, she don't holla back, woo, woo, copy that\nCuffin', I've been cuffin'\nChanel bags like it's nothin', and she love them\nHer last nigga, he was bluffin', she said, \"Fuck him\"\nHe let that go, I'm like, \"He buggin,'\" now she thuggin' with a real one\nI've been ballin' on you 'cause you smart and loyal\nAll my homies know me best, they say I'm fallin' for you\nAnd that box be slippery like tryna walk on oil\nAnd I'll be there long as you there when I be callin' for you, facts\n\nGirl, as long as you wrap your arms 'round me\nOoh, baby, I don't care what them people say\nI'm givin' you whatever you want\nGirl, you know I can provide\nWhatever you need (Whatever you need, babe)\nListen to your heart, baby\nYou might also like\nYeah, you can get whatever you want, whatever you need\nGot a one-way flight 'cause I ain't lettin' you leave\nWe ain't fuck first night, had me beggin' you please\nBut you love when I'm beggin', you told me get on my knees\nAnd I ate it, we got faded\nYou said, \"Put some Tory Lanez on\" and I played it\nIn Philly, we say you the main jawn and we save it\nFinally got a rich nigga, baby, you made it\nLong as you hold me down, you know that it's goin' down\nBe there when I turn around and I'll turn your world around\nI had to tone it down 'cause you made me slow it down\nBut I got you open now, so I'm 'bout to show you now\n\nWhat makes you think that I would try to run a game on you?\nJust as sure as my name is Dolla\nI'll be there for you and I'll\nTreat you just like a queen and give you fine things\nYou'll never have to worry 'bout another in your place\nSo believe me when I say\n\nGirl, as long as you wrap your arms 'round me\nOoh baby, I don't care what them people say\nI'm givin' you whatever you want\nGirl, you know I can provide\nWhatever you need (Whatever you need, babe)\nListen to your heart, baby"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsUptown Vibes Lyrics\nPapamitrou Boi\nSpanish bitch from uptown\nI bought her a bust down\nYeah, oh\n\nVen aqu\u00ed, dame chocha to my Spanish loca\nIn the kitchen, whippin' that dope up, you can smell the odor\nProb gon' pitch it, we gon' hit it like we Sammy Sosa (Gimme that)\nPut that Bentley to the limit, you can smell the odor\nHo, Spanish bitches call me \"Chulo\"\nWhen I'm pullin' up in that two door\nDiamonds different color, UNO\nAll these hunnids on me, mami\nMan, my pockets look like sumo\nI got money out the ass, I finger pop you in your culo\nWhen I hit you with that, you know (You know)\nYou know, smoke a little hookah (Hookah)\nKick it like it's Judo (Judo)\nLet you hit the OG (OG)\nSip some 42 though (Yeah)\nAnd when we get in mood, I'ma dog it like I'm Cujo, whoa\n\nHeard they tryna steal the wave, cut it out, cut it out\nSpicy mamis on the way, bust it down, bust it down\nSaw my watch, she love the way I flood it out, ayy\nTalk to me nice, show you what these Bentleys 'bout, whoa\nPipe down, throwin' up shots\nFirst we shut them down, then we open up shop\nRealest nigga around just in case y'all forgot\nThey've been tryna stop the wave, but the wave don't stop\nYou might also like\nUptown, nigga\nI was down, but they see I'm up now, nigga\nHead high 'cause I'm holdin' up my crown, nigga\nNever told even through the ups and downs, nigga\nAnd if I D'usse, it's a cup of brown, nigga\nOnly way I double cross is\nI just keep spinning, only way to make 'em nauseous\nD\u00edmelo, mami, like salsa, we could dip\nI'm just tryna see you dance, salsa on the dick, whoa\nIt went down, she came up, you know\nY'all take shots, y'all aim up, you know\nHate on low, but we fly high, you know\nTalk is cheap, free Wi-Fi, whoa\n\nHeard they tryna steal the wave, cut it out, cut it out\nSpicy mamis on the way, bust it down, bust it down\nSaw my watch, she love the way I flood it out, ayy\nTalk to me nice, show you what these Bentleys 'bout, whoa\nPipe down, throwin' up shots (Brrr)\nFirst we shut them down, then we open up shop (Anuel, ah)\nRealest nigga around just in case y'all forgot (Mera, dime Spliff, los Intocables, o\u00edste cabr\u00f3n)\nThey've been tryna stop the wave but the wave don't stop (Ah, brrr, haha)\n\nVo' a estar al volante (Volante) y al la'o est\u00e1 el cantante (Brrr)\nEl que tiene guerra con los narcotraficantes (Haha)\nHijo 'e puta, tengo cuatro rutas (Uy)\nY lo' vendo a treinta y dos como Karl Malone en Utah (Utah)\nLouboutin, Dolce y Versace (Jaja)\nVo' a morirme millonario, los Illuminati (Los Illuminati)\nLa Glock y las puta' en el bote (Brrr)\nY las nalga' como Jennifer L\u00f3pez, brrr (Ah)\nY ella rebota ese culote\nY yo le mamo ese totito pa' que no me bote (Pa' que no me bote)\nYo tengo diez dracotes (Brrr)\nY tenemos trece R (Ah) y mil soldados pa' to' estos bichotes (Ah, jaja)\nBrrr\nHeard they tryna steal the wave, cut it out, cut it out\nSpicy mamis on the way, bust it down, bust it down\nSaw my watch, she love the way I flood it out, ayy\nTalk to me nice, show you what this Bentleys 'bout, whoa\nPipe down, throwin' up shots\nFirst we shut them down, then we open up shop\nRealest nigga around just in case y'all forgot\nThey've been tryna stop the wave but the wave don't stop"}
{"text":"23 ContributorsWho You\u2019re Around Lyrics\nOne night I prayed to God\nI asked could he please remove the enemies from my life\nAnd before you know it I started losing friends\n\nSomebody who you're around wants to clip your wings and shoot you down\nBut it's okay to keep enemies close\nAs long as you know, just make sure you know who you're around\n\nYeah, y'all was like my brothers, I considered y'all as folks (Folks)\nAnd I remember nights sipping liquor, making toasts (Toasts)\nTalking about the life, tryna get it slinging dope (Yeah)\nAnd niggas say I changed, but you niggas changed first (First)\nAnd fuck all this money, nigga, we was fam' first (Fam')\nLooking at me balling, know that Instagram hurt (Hurt)\n'Cause you was supposed to be that nigga in that damn Ghost (Yeah)\nI would've rolled for you even in the same hearse (Woah)\nSame cemetery, bury me in the same dirt (Dirt)\nWe had a plan, but I guess it ain't work (Work)\n\"B.H we straight,\" that was the motto, my nigga\nI got rich first, you was supposed to follow, my nigga\nI'm gone\n\nSomebody who you're around wants to clip your wings and shoot you down\nBut it's okay to keep enemies close\nAs long as you know, just make sure you know who you're around\nYou might also like\nAnd that nigga Lil, shit, I can't believe you (Not you)\nThat's what that syrup and that weed do? (Weed do?)\nAnd when I came home I tried to feed you (Feed you)\nAnd every song I was screaming free you (Free that nigga Lil)\nAnd if you bled I was down to bleed too (Bleed too)\nNow when I ride by I breeze through (Breeze through)\nI don't even stop, it ain't a need to (Nah)\nAnd you the one that left, nigga, I ain't leave you (You)\nShit got realer (Realer), niggas got richer (Richer)\nI said the money train coming (It's coming), niggas missed it (I did)\nI even tried to spin back around to come and get you (Get you)\nBut niggas wanted more from me then my own sister (Damn)\n\nSomebody who you're around wants to clip your wings and shoot you down\nBut it's okay to keep enemies close\nAs long as you know, just make sure you know who you're around\n\nThey wanted more than my mother (Mother)\nMore than Omelly and that nigga like my brother (Brother)\nGreedy motherfucker\nCrazy thing about it, I don't hate 'em, I still love 'em (Love)\nI might have said things, I never said fuck 'em\nBut I'ma live my life, get the money, ball hard (Ball hard)\nStill sending earned money for his calling cards (Calling cards)\nRick ain't complaining and he got life behind bars\nAnd he still calling me, bet you he ain't calling y'all (Nah)\n'Cause none of y'all niggas ain't send him shit yet (Nah)\nNone of y'all niggas ain't send him pics yet (Nah)\nI'm still writing money orders, sending big checks\nAnd remember when it rain, niggas get wet\nGone\nSomebody who you're around wants to clip your wings and shoot you down\nBut it's okay to keep enemies close\nAs long as you know, just make sure you know who you're around\n\nI still love niggas\nBut it's like we just grew apart\nIf you don't grind, you don't shine\nHalf my niggas still around, and we all shining hard\nGone"}
{"text":"So, okay, you want to see some macho shit? I\u2019m the most macho nigga out here. I'm the most.. I thought you niggas knew, I\u2019m the most thuggish nigga out here. I have no mothafuckin\u2019 fear\u2026 I have no fear, I have only ambition, and I want mine, and I will do anything to protect and feed my family\n\nTake money!\nYeah! Take money! Haha\nUnh!\n\nFirst off, fucked your bitch, nigga, get a blood test\nYou a upset, nigga, where the love at?\nWhen we talking 'bout Philly, know I fucking run that\nSame place I bend them corners you can never come back\nYou fraud nigga, ball like I'm Chrissy Paul, nigga\nI cross niggas, when you hate it 'when you you lost, nigga\nYou soft nigga, then you disrespect a boss, nigga\nYou dissin' to get you on, that'll get you off nigga\nBroad nigga, when you was screamin' \"come to my hotel\"\nNigga, we was slingin work out the motel!\nNo scale, Barry Reese, I know you so well\nI caught your chick, I pulled that bitch like she a coat tail\nLet's keep it trilla, you ain't never make a dope sale\nYou ain't never played that corner--make a coke sale\nOn a late night, swimmin with the great whites\nYou was rockin' durags, big tees, fake Mikes\nBoy you had a wild week, shoppin' on Canal Street\nSame place you bought your fake chain and your time-piece\nHow we gon' believe you? Nigga I should lead you!\nTalkin' \"PC,\" that was never Beanie Sigel!\nThat was never ME, why you lying to the people?\nI was locked down, still doing shit illegal\nRunning around in jail like, \"I ain't give a hell,\" when\nYou was on PC, locking in with males\nYou might also like\nAnd I ain't got time for this shit, let me get another one\n\n23 and 1 never get to see the sun\nHad to get a glass visit just so you could see your son\nTook a deal on your homie, 'cause you couldn't beat the gun\nThey was tryna give him life, man, you know that wasn't right\nThen you left him in the hood, on his head, he had a price\nYou ain't even give a call, other niggas shot him twice\nNiggas tryna get a buzz off my name for some likes\nDead rapper, I'm at you, I'mma give you one tonight\nCa-ssidy! Boy, you so trash to me\nDo the math I dissed you, that's subtract to me\nYou ain't poppin, what the fuck could you add to me?\nYou just another dead body, another casualty\nI'm in the streets, so I do this beat casually\nAnd I ain't even write this shit, why you mad at me?\nCause you nursery rhyming, flow perfectly timing\nAnd I'm giving gas, I'm in the Aston, one Swizzy's designing\nNow beat it, I know you're heated but I know you need it\nI got that Justin Bieber please believe it, nigga I know you see it\nThey play pianos at your viewing, let Alicia key it\nI asked Swizzy \"could she do it?\" he like \"nigga, beat it\"\nSwizz don't fuck with you, Melo didn't either\nYou fucked that check up, you bit the hand that feed you\nAnd you was 6 feet, you got me digging deeper\nHold up, let's switch the beat, so I can spit some \"Ether!\"\nOh shit! You purple-dickie wearing-, durag-, over-sized fitted-, fake Air 1-wearing nigga!\nI say, come on with your soft ass, all you niggas all trash\nCouldn't bet a 100 grand, nigga, that's a small tab\nI'mma hit him where it hurt, this gon' make his dog mad\n'Cause this verse gon' hit this nigga harder than that car crash\nThat you should've died in, I'm mad that you survived it\nBut I came to murder you and have you scuba diving\nSwimming with the fishes, all you niggas is bitches\nDick riders, knocking on the wood, superstitious\nPause that, I'm all that, I'm really in the trenches\nAnd when I see you, nigga, I'mma have you jumping fences\nCutting through the alleys, you must be on the molly\nSniffing all that white shit and fucking with that Bobby\nCome to your hotel and meet you in the lobby\nJust to Worldstar you and do you just like Tommy...\nHearns did Martin, I burn in the Martin\nThat Aston when I start it like a lion when it's roaring\nBoy you lying, you ain't touring, you can't even get a show\nShit you like a pound of reggie, they can get you for the low\nAnd I'm like a brick of Diesel, it cost 60 for the flow\nYou ain't a gangsta, you a wanksta, nigga, 50 even know, whoa!\nYou say you a gangsta, but you never pop nothing\nAnd you locked your homie out when you heard the cops coming\nRapping for a long time, nigga, you ain't got nothing\nYou ain't wanna battle Mook neither, nigga, stop fronting\nDamn, homie, in high school, you was the man, homie\nFuck happened to you?\nYou had a doghouse with a doghouse in the backyard?\nNow you living in a doghouse in the backyard?\nNigga, I was broke then, now I got Black Card\nYour career maxed out, your shit like a MAC card\nEasy, nigga, I talk greasy, nigga\nAnd I'mma stunt on Instagram just to tease you, nigga\nCouple months we at the funeral\nI swear to God that shit was beautiful\nFive-X tees, durag's, the usual\nYour mama screaming like \"Cassidy what they do to you?\" OH!\nAnd this shit called \"Kendrick You Next\"\nI'm just on some shit this time around, everybody get it\nYou say my name, I give you a thousand, it's just that simple\nMeek Milly! Enuff, what up?"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsOn Me Lyrics\nYeah, reportin' live from the northside of litty city\nYou fuck my bitch, I'ma keep it player\nI just want you to know that we the Navy Seals\nWe gon' strike your whole motherfucking platoon, nigga\nGang\nBangladesh\nUgh\n\nThree bad bitches, fuckin' on me\nTop floor at my penthouse, yeah\nYoung rich nigga, I'm in my robe\nFuckin' them hoes in my flip-flops, yeah\nFuck all that trollin, this hip-hop, woah\nNigga play wit me, gon' get shot (Brr)\nQuarter mil' 'caine, my wrist white, woah\nBust down, Patek don't tick-tock, no\nWe got them bricks in a drought\nI call the play and they hittin' the route\nThis life I'm living be trippin' me out 'cause I just let a famous bitch spit in my mouth (Ew)\nI'ma buy a Birkin for a project bitch\nRolls truck coming, I'ma cop that shit\nAss all fat, tell her pop that shit like (Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nEvery red bottom, know I got that shit\nPost it on the Gram, but you not that lit\nYour favorite rapper is not that rich (Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nFly Dubai on Emirates\nOnly fly 'em out if they with the shits\nAll bad hoes need discipline (Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nYou might also like\nI want a freak nasty ho, and I want all bad bitches\nI'm in a red 'Sace robe, fuckin' on all bad bitches\n(Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nI want a brand new Rolls, and I want all bad bitches\nI want a freak nasty ho, that'll grant all my wishes\n(Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nTell her come- fuck on me, tell her come fuck on me\nFuck on me, tell her come fuck on me\nI want a freak nasty ho, and I want all bad bitches\nI want a freak nasty ho, that'll grant all my wishes, yeah\n\n(Cardi) I brought my money bring your's out (Woo)\nRed Lamborghini with the doors out (Ugh)\nI hit the mall, clear stores out (Ugh)\nHeat to your face, clear ya pores out, yeah\n(Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nI been hard workin' and humble\nBelieve me, I've heard of the mumble (Look)\nI'm just gon' weave it alone (Yeah)\n'Cause I would put burners to bundles\nBitches are miserable, they are so typical\nHating is cheap, not my material\nLook where I'm at, run back to years ago\nI used to strip, now I keep a different pole (Cardi)\nI do not fuck with your kind, no\nI do not fuck with your vibe, no\nI am a big boss bitch, I do not come in your size, no\n(Booty, booty, booty)\nI seen a bitch tryna switch sides (Switch)\nThen jump back, tryna dick ride (No)\nBut I ain't really worried about these hoes (Huh?)\n'Cause bitches are hurt, D. Rose (Yeah)\nGucci bags, 40 cal stickin' out (Ugh)\nIf they want the smoke, then I give it out (Ugh)\nI might leave my robe at your nigga house\nGive you two something to figure out\nI seen all these shots and they brick, brick, brick\nTry something new ho, quick, quick quick\nBody bag, body bag, zip, zip, zip (Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nI want a freak nasty ho, and I want all bad bitches\nI'm in a red 'Sace robe, fuckin' on all bad bitches\n(Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nI want a brand new Rolls, and I want all bad bitches\nI want a freak nasty ho, that'll grant all my wishes\n(Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nTell her come- fuck on me, tell her come fuck on me\nFuck on me, tell her come fuck on me\nI want a freak nasty ho, and I want all bad bitches\nI want a freak nasty ho, that'll grant all my wishes, yeah\n\nI want a freak nasty ho\nFreak, freak nasty ho\nI'm in a red 'Sace robe (Robe, robe)\n(Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nI do not come in your size\nBrand new Rolls, all bad bitches\nI want a freak nasty ho (Freak, freak, freak)\nI seen a bitch tryna switch sides\n\nI want a freak nasty ho, and I want all bad bitches\nI'm in a red 'Sace robe, fuckin' on all bad bitches\n(Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nI want a brand new Rolls, and I want all bad bitches\nI want a freak nasty ho, that'll grant all my wishes\n(Booty, booty, booty, booty)\nTell her come- fuck on me, tell her come fuck on me\nFuck on me, tell her come fuck on me\nI want a freak nasty ho, and I want all bad bitches\nI want a freak nasty ho, that'll grant all my wishes, yeah\n(Booty, booty, booty, booty)"}
{"text":"Ha\nIt's Gucci, it's Drop Top\nWizop, whoo\nYeah, ayy (Go)\n\nYou get the bag and fumble it\nI get the bag and flip it and tumble it (Yeah)\nStraight out the lot, three hundred cash (Cash)\nAnd the car came with a blunt in it (Yeah)\nLil' mama a thot, and she got ass (Thot)\nAnd she gon' fuck up a bag (Yeah)\nPull up to the spot, livin' too fast (Yeah)\nDroppin' the dope in the stash (Yeah)\nIn Italy, got two foreign hoes, they DM me (Ooh, brr, ayy)\nDrop the top when it's cold (Drop-top)\nBut you feel the heat (Skrrt, yeah, ayy)\nBe real with me\nKeep it 100, just be real with me (Ayy)\nEat it up like it's a feast (Woah, eat it up)\nThey say the dope on fleek (Yep)\n\nPercocet pill on me (Percocet)\nIce on my neck, baby, chill with me (Ice)\nThem niggas that post in the back don't say nothin'\nThem niggas will kill for me\nBack ends I count in my sleep, on fleek\nHundred K spent on a Patek Phillippe (Phillippe)\nBitch, I'm a dog, eat my treat (Hrr)\nHop out the frog and leap (Leap)\nI put them bricks in the fender\nMy bitch, she walk around like she Kris Jenner (Kris Jenner)\nI used to break in and enter\nThen Takeoff runnin' like the game of temple (Whew)\nIt's simple, I play with her mental\nMama said she saw me on Jimmy Kimmel (Mama)\nCount it up, 'cause I'm a money symbol\nWalkin' with the racks, I'm lookin' crippled (Money)\nFuck on that bitch then I tip her (Tip her)\nA nickel for me to take pictures (Nickel)\nNot from L.A. but I clip her (Brr)\nDouble my cup, pour a triple (Actavis)\nFox on my body, no Vivica (Fox on my\u2026)\nI'm not your average or typical (I'm not your\u2026)\nLook at my wrist, and it's critical (Look at the\u2026)\nHold it up, droppin' the temperature (Droppin' the\u2026)\nI get that bag on the regular (Bag)\nI got a bag on my cellular (Brr)\nBackin' up, baggin' up vegetables (Bag)\nBag of them cookies, it's medical (Cookies)\nCocaine, codeine, etcetera (White)\nCocaine and lean, it's federal (White)\nI take off, landin' on Nebula\nAs of now twenty M's on my schedule (Takeoff)\nYou might also like\nYou get the bag and fumble it\nI get the bag and flip it and tumble it (Yeah)\nStraight out the lot, three hundred cash (Cash)\nAnd the car came with a blunt in it (Yeah)\nLil' mama a thot, and she got ass (Thot)\nAnd she gon' fuck up a bag (Yeah)\nPull up to the spot, livin' too fast (Yeah)\nDroppin' the dope in the stash (Yeah)\nIn Italy, got two foreign hoes, they DM me (Ooh, brr, ayy)\nDrop the top when it's cold (Drop-top)\nBut you feel the heat (Skrrt, yeah, ayy)\nBe real with me\nKeep it 100, just be real with me (It's Gucci, ayy)\nEat it up like it's a feast (Hah, woah, eat it up)\nThey say the dope on fleek (Yep)\n\nI know that these niggas gettin' sick of me (Eww-ah)\nThese chains on my neck cost a mil' a piece (Um)\nI don't even like to freestyle for free\nI put in the key and I ride the beat\nI won't even come out the house for free\nI pay a nigga to drive for me (Huh?)\nJAY-Z couldn't even co-sign for me\nI do what I want 'cause I'm signed to me (Damn)\nI get the, I get the, I get the bag\nThey get the bag, have to cut it in half (Wop)\nStop the comparin', y'all makin' me laugh\nNeed the rehab, I'm addicted to cash\nConvertible Wop, convertible top\nMy dope got a vertical, look at it hop\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, and it jump out the pot (Pot)\nCame out of jail and went straight to the top\nTake it easy, baby, middle of summer, I'm freezin', baby (Burr)\nDon't leave me, baby\nJust drop to your knees and please me, baby (Go)\nI'm fascinated, two bitches so fine that I masturbated (Ha)\nCongratulations, she brain me so good that I graduated (Wow)\nThey had to hate it\nI don't fuck with them niggas, they plastic, baby (Heh)\nA trapper, baby, I rap but I own all my masters, baby\nIt's tragic, baby, I pull up and fuck up the traffic, baby (Ha)\nA savage, baby\nI'm killin' these niggas, closed casket, baby (Wop)\nYou get the bag and fumble it\nI get the bag and flip it and tumble it (Yeah)\nStraight out the lot, 300 cash (Cash)\nAnd the car came with a blunt in it (Yeah)\nLil' mama a thot, and she got ass (Thot)\nAnd she gon' fuck up a bag (Yeah)\nPull up to the spot, livin' too fast (Yeah)\nDroppin' the dope in the stash (Yah)\nIn Italy, got two foreign hoes, they DM me (Ooh, brr, ayy)\nDrop the top when it's cold (drop top)\nBut you feel the heat (Skrrt, yah, ayy)\nBe real with me\nKeep it 100, just be real with me (Ayy)\nEat it up like it's a feast (Woah, eat it up)\nThey say the dope on fleek (Yep)"}
{"text":"Southside\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you\n\nI got so many felonies, I might can't never go to Canada\nBut Drake said he gon' pull some strings, so let me check my calendar\nI just popped me one of them one what-you-call-its and it boosted my stamina\nNow I'm fucking her on the banister, guess I just East Atlanta'd her\nI'm in an all-red drop tarantula, fuck a Challenger\nDamn these hoes ain't got no manners, bruh, where's the manager?\nI keep throwing rubber bandies up, ho, pull your panties up\n'Cause you fuck like a granny fuck, you're just an amateur\nThis Patek Philippe gon' make this crooked judge try throw the book at me\nI look like half a million worth of heroin when she look at me\nBut you ain't gotta fuck with me, my nig, but you're stuck with me\nBut how you called the cops on me, my nig? You grew up with me\n\nI don't usually do this 'less I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now, got me talking about my life\nI don't usually do this 'less I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\nI don't usually do this 'less I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now and I need ya in my life\nI don't usually do this 'less I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\nYou might also like\nYeah, I'm both\nYeah, I had a drink, yeah, I smoked\nYeah, you think I need you but I don't\nJust left out Dubai with all my folk\nOpen water, my location is remote\nShout-out Yachty but this ain't a lil' boat\nThis some shit I wrote about when I was broke\nSee, the power of the mind is not a joke\nMan, I said that I would do it and I did\nUsed to get left-overs out the fridge\nNobody was famous where I lived\n'Til I got it jumping at the crib\nTook a lot to be able to give, I mean\n\nI don't usually do this 'less I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now, got me talking about my life\nI don't usually do this 'less I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\nI don't usually do this 'less I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now and I need ya in my life\nI don't usually do this 'less I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\n\nSouthside"}
{"text":"Yeah, it's Gucci, what's up, baby? (Brr)\nYellow everything this time (Yellow), you know what I'm talking about?\nYellow rims (Lemons)\nYellow big booty yellowbones, ha (Yellow?)\nYellow Lambs (Yellow), yellow MPs (Yellow), yellow watch (Banana)\nYellow charm ring, chain (Yellow)\nYellow living room set (Chiquita, yellow)\nLemonade Gucci shoes for my girl (It's Gucci), it's Gucci\n\nMy Phantom sitting on sixes, no twenties in my denim (No)\nYour Cutlass motor knocking because it is a lemon (Lemon)\nI like them Georgia peaches, but you look more like a lemon (Lemon)\nThese sour-apple bitter bitches, I'm not fucking with them (Lemon)\nI'm truly stupid-paid, that's just how I feel today (Today, lemon)\nI'm moving slow 'cause codeine syrup's in my lemonade (Lemon)\nI'm standing in the shade and I'm selling lemonade (Lemons)\nSix hundred a pint the going rate off in the A (Lemon)\nLemonade diamond bracelet, put it in your face (Brr)\nLemonhead diamond earrings I wore yesterday (Brr, lemon)\nI'm pimping, wearing linen, that's just how I'm chillin' (Lemon)\nI'm smoking grits and selling chickens, Corvette painted lemon (It's Gucci)\n\nLemons on the chain with the V-cuts (Yeah)\nLemons on the chain with the V-cuts (Brr)\nLemonade and shade with my feet up (What?)\nLemonade and shade with my feet up (Wow)\nLemon pepper wings and a freeze cup (What?)\nLemon pepper wings and a freeze cup (Wow)\nLemons in their face, watch 'em freeze up (Brr, brr)\nLemons in their face, watch 'em freeze up (Brr, brr)\nYou might also like\nI got lemonade and lemon-tint, lemons watch me mix the shit (Lemons)\nLemonade-complexion East Australian girl be killing me (Yeah)\nShe say I be killing her, I say I be feeling it (Wow)\nFour days then I'm sick of her 'cause her brain is Lemonhead (Damn)\nCocaine-white exterior, interior lemonade (Gucci)\nYellow with the off-white trimming, I call that the super-drank (Wow)\nYellow diamond pinky ring, call that there the lemon rock (Brr, brr)\nJewelry box a lemon bin (Brr, brr), my earring size an apricot (Brr)\nYeah, I smoke that strong a lot, yeah, I need some, what you got? (Yeah)\nHalf a pound of lemon kush, call that pack the lemon drop (Ahem)\nCanary yellow lemon watch (Brr), big bird, yellow top (Nyoom)\nYellow Polo, Polo slippers, white and yellow Polo socks (Nyoom)\n\"Gucci Mane be pumping, dog, he don't got all he say he got\" (Nyoom)\nJust stash one lemon, homie, I can supply damn near fifty blocks (Nyoom)\nYellow boat parked at the dock (Dollar), yellowbone gon' make the drop (Dollar)\nFlip the flop, mine off the top, then go buy me a yellow yacht (It's Gucci)\n\nLemons on the chain with the V-cuts (Yeah)\nLemons on the chain with the V-cuts (Brr)\nLemonade and shade with my feet up (What?)\nLemonade and shade with my feet up (Wow)\nLemon pepper wings and a freeze cup (What?)\nLemon pepper wings and a freeze cup (Wow)\nLemons in their face, watch 'em freeze up (Yeah, yeah)\nLemons in their face, watch 'em freeze up (Brr, brr, brr, brr)\nLemonade my townhouse in Miami, I want yellow carpet (Yeah)\nWoke up in the morning, \"Fuck it,\" bought a yellow Aston Martin (Fuck it)\nYellow bricks, yellow dust, yellow lean, yellow Tuss'\nYellow pills, spinning wheels, yellow weed, re-up with us (Yeah)\nCoward-ass nigga, yellow stripe, you a yellow-back (Yeah)\nAK hit your dog and you can't bring Old Yellow back (Nope, nope, nope)\nYep, Gucci bang up eighty thousand, that's a yellow safe (Yeah)\nYellow, holmes, mellow, holmes, you know you a scary cat (Yeah)\nNo sleep for two days, so my pupils looking yellow (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nFive flights, six shows, quarter-million on my schedule\n(Bangladesh) and Gucci Mane, Niggas know they in trouble (Gucci, Gucci, Bang', Gucci)\nGreen ice, red light, caution, Gucci rock yellow (Brr, ice, live, Gucci), Gucci (Gucci) Gucci\n\nLemons on the chain with the V-cuts (Yeah, yeah, it's Gucci)\nLemons on the chain with the V-cuts (It's Big Gucci, brr)\nLemonade and shade with my feet up (It's brilliance, huh, what?)\nLemonade and shade with my feet up (Lemonade everything, baby, that's just Gucci, wow)\nLemon pepper wings and a freeze cup (Gucci, work, what?)\nLemon pepper wings and a freeze cup (Yeah, wow)\nLemons in their face, watch 'em freeze up (Where we at? Yeah)\nLemons in their face, watch 'em freeze up (Brr, brr, brr, brr)"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsCurve Lyrics\nHuh, it's Gucci\nXO (Yeah), 1-0 (Yeah), 1-7 (Yeah)\nBrr, brr\n(Go)\n\nThe kid back on the whiskey\nVirginia Black got me tipsy\nI'm in L.A. like I'm Nipsey\nSpanish girls wanna kiss me\nA nigga wanna come and diss me\nAnd put a hex like a gypsy\nThey kill themselves, no wrist bleed\nGot suicides on my SV\nShe do it all for the Fendi\nShe do it all for the Gucci (Gucci!)\nBaby girl wanna choose me\nShe wanna use and abuse me (Uh)\nI know she wanna text me (Wow)\nI know she wanna sex me\nFifty thou' make her neck freeze\nFuck her once like, \"Next, please\"\nMy nigga, who would've thought? (Huh?)\nMy nigga, who would've thought now?\nI'll be right back at the top now\nI'll be right back at the top now\nI got your girl on my finger\nBlowin' my phone like she's single\nBlowin' my phone like I'm Cee-Lo (Damn)\nSomebody needs to come get her\nYou might also like\nLike, \"Woo,\" with the curve (With the curve)\nI know you don't deserve it, know you don't deserve it\nI got that work\nI know you want the Birkin, baby, are you worth it?\nWith the curve (With the curve)\nI know you don't deserve it, know you don't deserve it\nI got that work (With the, with the, with the)\nI need to know for certain (It's Gucci!)\nTell me, are you worth it?\n\nSay I, a star was born last night\nWay you showed out on that dick, girl, you performed last night\nThat's why you deserve that first-class flight\nBuh-bye, 'cause I just quenched your thirst last night\nI'm in Dubai\nSomebody tell the prince that the kingpin has arrived\nIf I lived over here, I'd probably have one hundred wives (Damn!)\nWalkin' in the club and they like, \"Gucci just arrived\" (Gucci!)\nI ordered up a dub and then I threw it in the sky\nI told her I'm a'ight, now she look like she surprised (I'm a'ight)\nShe look like a model, but a devil in disguise\nBum, bum-bum-bum, I feel like Rocky in his prime (Bum, bum-bum-bum, bum)\nYou know you came to fuck, so why the fuck we wastin' time?\nI got the kind of wood that make a woman lose her mind\nI'm young, rich and handsome, baby, I'm one of a kind\nJust keep it real with me, baby, it won't cost you a dime\nI know you got expensive taste and I don't even mind\nLike, \"Woo,\" with the curve (With the curve)\nI know you don't deserve it, know you don't deserve it (No)\nI got that work (Got that, got that, got that)\nI know you want the Birkin, baby, are you worth it?\nWith the curve (With the curve, it's Gucci!)\nI know you don't deserve it, know you don't deserve it (Hell no)\nI got that work (With the, with the, with the, with the)\nI need to know for certain, tell me, are you worth it?\n(You need to know Wop!)"}
{"text":"Hey\nSouthside\nWizop\nOffset\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you\nWoo!\n\nMil' in a week (Hey)\nI bought a iced out Philippe (Ice)\nYeah, playin' for keeps (Keeps)\nSuck up the gang, she a leech (Leech)\nCame in the game with a key (Key)\nMy pockets blew up, Monique (Monique)\nOoh, she got that perfect physique (Ooh)\nI'll tape a brick to her cheeks (Brick)\nNow that I'm gettin' this money\nI'm fuckin' these thotties, they tryna get come-ups (Come-ups)\nThis a good week, I've been stackin' up Ms\nAnd I'm snatchin' that Wraith in the mornin' (Wraith)\nI was that nigga locked up in the cell\nAnd they treated me like I was normal (Normal)\nThankin' the Lord for them blessings\nI just left the Met Gala dressin' up formal (Formal)\nYou might also like\nLook at my boogers, they big as you (Booger)\nYou could get shot with your nigga too (Bow)\nThe stick make a nigga do boogaloo (Brr)\nBentley Mulsanne but the seats masseuse (Skrrt)\nI'm havin' more stripes than Adidas boost (Havin' that)\nDick in her mouth like a edible (Dick in that)\nNigga start shootin', you better move (Brr)\nI fight for my gang, I won't let 'em lose (Gang)\nYour bitch, she wantin' the pipe, aight\nThis shit all started off likes (Huh)\nHopped in my DM and wrote me a kite, flight (Yeah)\nShe on the very first flight (Go)\nFinesse a nigga then get his shit bike (Huh)\nPsych, right, nigga, goodnight (On sight)\nPoppin' that shit 'cause he thinkin' he pipe, pipes\nHunnid rounds drum with the knife (Brr)\nMe and the Wop, Biggie and Pac (Wop)\nBut we so different, we keepin' the Glock (Bow)\nI'm on a yacht and the yacht on my watch (Yacht)\nFuckin' a thot on the ocean, Dubai (Thot)\nI'ma play dumb but I see all the plots (Plot)\nShe know what I'm 'bout (Hey)\nYou hit this dope and your heart gonna stop (Hey)\nThey callin' the cops (12)\nHop on the jet, this a twenty passenger (Jet)\nOffset a maniac, I'm the massacre (Hey)\nI take your heart out and shoot your bladder up (Agh)\nGet to the top and we blew the ladder up (Top)\nRan up my money, I'm talkin' lateral (Bag)\nGot that bitch high off a Perc' and Adderall (High)\nPull out the fire and you better grab it all (Brr)\nBitch, I'm Offset and I'm 'bout to set it off (Hey, hey)\nMil' in a week (Hey)\nI bought a iced out Philippe (Ice)\nYeah, playin' for keeps (Keeps)\nSuck up the gang, she a leech (Leech)\nCame in the game with a key (Key)\nMy pockets blew up, Monique (Monique)\nOoh, she got that perfect physique (Ooh)\nI'll tape a brick to her cheeks (Brick)\nNow that I'm gettin' this money\nI'm fuckin' these thotties, they tryna get come-ups (Come-ups)\nThis a good week, I've been stackin' up Ms\nAnd I'm snatchin' that Wraith in the mornin' (Wraith)\nI was that nigga locked up in the cell\nAnd they treated me like I was normal (Normal)\nThankin' the Lord for them blessings\nI just left the Met Gala dressin' up formal (Formal)\n\nI'm havin' this shit but you had it (Havin' it)\nShow me respect like your daddy\u2019s dad (Respect)\nYeah, Gucci the magnet, cash in the cabinet(Guwop)\nI just woke up in a palace (Woo)\nI did a walk through, I'm in Dallas, man (Walk through)\nFlew in two bitches from Cali (Pew)\nBig Bs on me, I'm rocking Bally (B)\nThey drunk and they just walkin' barely\nI'm headed to Paris to pick up a bag (Go, go, go)\nAnd they treat me like one of the Jacksons\nThese niggas ain't trappin', ain't makin' transactions (Nah)\nA nigga rob you, he be practicing (Bow)\nFour bitches all tryna swallow this\nI feel like I'm fightin' an octopus (Woo)\nThought it was killers camped out in my bushes (Brr)\nTo come to find out it's photographers (Flash)\nFeds watch me with binoculars (Feds)\nMad 'cause a nigga gettin' popular (Grr)\nFlexin', your ho wanna lock me up (Flex)\nDrop Top Wop but the top is up (Skrt, skrt)\nNegative turn to a positive (Woo, woo, woo)\nI don't care none 'bout no obstacles\nI could care less 'bout the bloggers, boy (No)\n80K stuffed in my joggers, bruh (80 ball)\nMil' in a week (Hey)\nI bought a iced out Philippe (Ice)\nYeah, playin' for keeps (Keeps)\nSuck up the gang, she a leech (Leech)\nCame in the game with a key (Key)\nMy pockets blew up, Monique (Monique)\nOoh, she got that perfect physique (Ooh)\nI'll tape a brick to her cheeks (Brick)\nNow that I'm gettin' this money\nI'm fuckin' these thotties, they tryna get come-ups (Come-ups)\nThis a good week, I've been stackin' up Ms\nAnd I'm snatchin' that Wraith in the mornin' (Wraith)\nI was that nigga locked up in the cell\nAnd they treated me like I was normal (Normal)\nThankin' the Lord for them blessings\nI just left the Met Gala dressin' up formal (Formal)"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsTruth Lyrics\nHaha\nIt's Gucci\nSuckers keep on downing me\nThey know they should be crowning me\nHahaha\nYo\nIt's Guwop\nJust counting paper, just counting paper\nWe're just counting the days, huh\n\n80 chains going and ain't took one yet (Burr)\nAin't nothin' retarded 'bout Gucci but this gold Rolex (Huh)\nA ten thousand dollar bounty put on my neck (Burr)\nI hope you didn't pay them, 'cause they didn't have no success (Nope)\nYou seen my interview, nigga, and you got upset (R-I-P)\nI seen your interview too, you looked oh-so-stressed\nI think the nigga just mad 'cause I fucked his ex (Mwah)\nAnd I'm a big dog, he got the lil' boy complex\nGo dig your partner up, nigga, bet he can't say shit\nAnd if you looking for the kid, I'll be in Zone 6 (Gucci)\nI hit a birthday party fresh, you and your homeboy, Tip\nI know y'all seen me over there with that black four-fif'\nI bought a Bentley Mulsanne, it look just like Tip\u2019s\nBut I never went platinum\u2014do you catch my drift? (Skrrr!)\nI never let a nigga do me like Tip did Flip (It's Gucci)\nThis the same shit that got Big and 2Pac killed, it's Gucci\nYou might also like\nHaha\nOkay\nFor the record, this is not a diss record\nJust the truth\nIt's Gucci, the living legend\nOh, yeah\nI'm a legend\nLiving legend, nigga\nRespect that (Gucci)\nCheck!\n\nI ain't playing with you, I ain't trying to dance with you (Fuck you)\nI ain't using hands, let them rubberbands get you (Get 'em)\nIt take money to go to war, and we can go to war, nigga (Get 'em)\nI ain't no real rapper, I'm a fucking gravedigger (Ha)\nI'm a old-school fool, don't make me show my age, nigga\nGrab a Louisville and turn it to a batting cage, nigga\nI did a song with Keyshia Cole, and I know you still miss her (Yeah)\nBut Puff was fucking her while you was falling in love with her (Wow)\nCall you to do a song, wouldn't even smoke no bud with you (Haha)\nI was screaming \"So Icy\" and was a neighborhood nigga (Burr)\nThis AR is my backup 'cause I don't need nann nigga\nMust didn't hear when Flocka said, \"Let them guns blam, nigga!\" (Bow, bow)\nUsed to drive to Birmingham with a lot of grams, nigga (Skrr!)\nI'm just who I am, nigga, but I ain't sparing nann nigga\nI know it's hard for you to sleep knowing you killed your homeboy\nYou left his son to be a bastard, won't even raise your own boy (Its Gucci)\nHes had to defend his life last week and now\nHe has to defend his freedom\n(Don't just say anything ok?)\nSuspect and lawyer if I believe...\nBasically what happened, umm to make a long story short. He visited a young lady. Uhh went over to her place umm she was there he was there. At one point she opened up the door. Five guys come runnin' in, one of them had green tape umm, one of them had a weapon, one of them had brass knuckles and hit him with brass knuckles umm and hit him real hard. Had him wrapped up, another guy had a weapon, hit one of the other guys with uhh the weapon umm there came a situation where he defended himself umm somebody yelled, one of the other five guys yelled shoot him, something to that effect. He grabbed a gun nearby and he start too, he open fire"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsNothin\u2019 on Ya Lyrics\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nI swear them hoes ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nThat nigga broke, he ain\u2019t got nothing for you\nI swear these hoes ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nI fuck with you cause you\u2019re very loyal\nAnd you\u2019re so fine, you make my blood boil\nI have to go and get another lawyer\nShe took the charge, they ain\u2019t got nothing on her\nI swear to God they ain\u2019t got nothing on her\nHuh, we in the airport, she got something on her\nWe ball out in the mall in California\nWe might just pull up in twin Californias\n\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nHoes ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nI think that shit just paranoia\nShe think I\u2019m with another woman\nAnother woman that gonn keep me comin'\nGirl, these hoes, they ain\u2019t got nothing on you\n\nIt\u2019s nothing, claim they aren't, but they bluffin'\nCome home and I hit it hard, and she gives me head that\u2019s concussion\nI\u2019m stunting, OG Kush what I\u2019m puffin'\nIn the club you know me, I spend it all\nMy homies gon' get to bustin\nGot a quarter million to spend\nJust came home from tour and I crushed it\nJust bought my wife a pair of glass shoes\nCause her ass thick as a pumpkin\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on her\nShe don\u2019t want no other nigga, she fuckin with a stoner\nAnd if I\u2019m up in this bitch, then I\u2019m prolly with the owner\nHella bottles, hella marijuana, anything you want, my niggas got it\nWe got liquor, we got mollies, we got bitches tryna ride, taking pictures\nWe just standing on the couches, they could try but\nYou might also like\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on her\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nHoes ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nI think that shit just paranoia\nShe think I\u2019m with another woman\nAnother woman that gonn keep me comin'\nGirl, these hoes, they ain\u2019t got nothing on you\n\nI fuck with shawty cause she very loyal\nWe can tie the knot like Memph and Toya\nI won\u2019t ignore you and I won\u2019t divorce you\nLet's have two girls and call them Rolls and Porsche\nI respect that girl, I accept that girl\nI\u2019ll do anything I can to protect that girl\nIf I could do it all again, would have kept that girl\nBut I\u2019m unhealthy for you baby I fuck up your world\nYou your Daddy's lil girl, but you\u2019s a grown lady\nAnd I don\u2019t see you like he see you cause we not related\nWe got faded at my spot, I swear we're so wasted\nAfter the third shot of patron, I swear can\u2019t even taste it\n\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nThey ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nHoes ain\u2019t got nothing on you\nI think that shit just paranoia\nShe think I\u2019m with another woman\nAnother woman that gonn keep me comin\nGirl, these hoes, they ain\u2019t got nothing on you"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsTrap House 3 Lyrics\nWhat's happenin',  nigga?\nTrap House III, fuck nigga\nWhat's happening?\nAyy, T, come out, man\nMan, we outta cut again?\nFuck\n\nI told partner bring the presser, huh\nApply some pressure to the jack, yeah\nI got a thousand keys uncut, nigga\nGuaranteed I make this money stack, nigga\nI'm trying to make this money fast, nigga\nI'm trying to keep this shit together\nI call that boy Eggbeater Fat\nI cook good, but he cook way better\nSipping Coronas with my vato\nMe casa you know es su casa\nBig cat we used to call El Gato\nNow, GuWop, they call me El Chapo, nigga\nI use to trap out all the bandos\nAbandoned homes with boarded windows\nWho the fuck that is peeking in my window?\nFuck boys know I keep that extendo (GuWop)\nYou might also like\nTrap House III, got a K with me\nAnd three young niggas that stay with me\nTrap House III, got a K with me\nAnd three young niggas that stay with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\n'Cause my MAK-90 stay with me\nTrap House III, got a K with me\nAnd three young niggas that stay with me\nTrap House III, got a K with me\nAnd three young niggas that stay with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\n'Cause my MAK-90 stay with me\n\nTrap house, trap house, trap house, trap\nTrap house, trap house, trap house, trap\nTrap house, trap house, trap house, trap house\nTrap house, trap house, trap house, trap\nTrap house, trap, trap house, trap\nTrappin' off a pack, know I trap house trap\nTrap house, trap, trap house, trap (Maybach Music)\nTrappin' off a pack, know I trap house trap\nYou know I got me an agenda\nBreak that thing up in my blender\nGot a warrant, no surrender\nSub-machine with that extender\nI came up on a pissy mattress\nI got more money then all these rappers\nTried to hit me up in traffic\nBut I had to work my magic\nI'm riding 'round with my lieutenant\nI let 'em count it and I spend it\nBitches come after my business\nCatching bodies in these trenches (Maybach Music)\n\nTrap House III, got a K with me\nAnd three young niggas that stay with me\nTrap House III, got a K with me\nAnd three young niggas that stay with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\n'Cause my MAK-90 stay with me\nTrap House III, got a K with me\nAnd three young niggas that stay with me\nTrap House III, got a K with me\nAnd three young niggas that stay with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\nHope these niggas don't play with me\n'Cause my MAK-90 stay with me\nTrap House III"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsSt. Brick Intro Lyrics\nAn igloo full of snow and a white stove\nHouse full of naked hoes snortin' blow\nIt's so lonely at the top, plus its real cold\nA house full of hoes and they cookin' blow\nI'm in Zone Six aka the North Pole\nBurr! EA, GA\n1-0-1-7, Wop, six\n\nMiddle of the winter I pull up in a vert\nIt's the middle of December she pulled up in a skirt\nSanta Claus of the hood\nI pull up with the work\nThey call me East Atlanta Santa\nRun up on me get murked\nI'm just trappin' through the snow\nSellin' nine half a bricks in four ways\nOver the hills we go\nGot an extendo and an AK (gra, gra, gra)\nI'm a neighborhood philanthropist\nI'm sellin' bales of cannabis\nPreachin' like an evangelist\nBut I don't fuck with amateurs\nI drive spiders, yeah, tarantulas\nMy diamonds are immaculate\nI'm not on no romantic shit\nBut I'm cookin' cocaine, candle lit\nI'm so trill, your ho can't handle it\nBut damn, that bitch can suck a dick\nSkeeted on her face and lip\nGuwop can't fuck no basic bitch\nThe teacher teachin' arithmetic\nShow you how to whip a brick\nLearn you how you run your clique\nAnd told you how to kill a snitch\nMy young girl she a freaky chick\nBut damn she on that sneaky shit\nRan off with a half a zip\nAnd now I got to slap a trick\nAll these record labels broke as shit\nRicky Dinky record shit\nI sell more meth than a Mexican\nMy dog food yea its excellent\nI done started sellin' Christmas tree\nI'm tryna jingle bells ho\nIts Christmas time its Hollis, Queens\nI'm stompin' in my shell toes\nChristmas time in '96\nI asked Santa for twelve golds\nBut now Guwop got gifts to give\nBut I don't fuck with twelve though\nYou might also like\nSanta Claus in the city, bag full of goodies\nI wish these faggot-ass cops would let a nigga live\nI'm tryna come down the chimney with a 100 mil\nI'm the Bricksquad boss I'm like Santa Claus"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsPussy Print Lyrics\nWizop\nYeezy Mane\n(Mike WiLL Made-It)\nBurr\n\nBitch, stop the comparisons, I'm not these other artists's (No)\nI'm Gucci Mane, La Flare, my neck on that real retarded shit (Burr)\nKeep a towel with me 'cause my watch be drippin' water, bitch (Woo)\nAnd I only featured Kanye 'cause we both some fuckin' narcissists (Yeezy)\nNarcissistic tendencies with psychopathic pockets, bitch (Bitch)\nMy bank account is crazy, bitch (Bitch), I think it needs some medicine (Woo)\nMy straitjacket Giv-enchy-ahnchy-ahchy, can't even pronounce that shit (Ooh)\nDesigner jeans, designer drugs, just bought me a designer bitch (Yeah)\nWhy this bitch keep hittin' my line? (Ah) She knowin' she ain't no dime and shit (Nope)\nKnowin' I ain't got no time to waste, be fuckin' around with no nickel, bitch (Huh?)\nYour nigga pinchin' pennies, but I'm out here making these millions, bitch (Bitch)\nDon't ask me who I'm votin' for 'cause I got all the presidents (Racks)\nMy bitch walk 'round in lingerie all day, she think she elegant (Mwah)\nIt's an elephant in the room\u2014guess who's the motherfuckin' elephant? (It's Gucci)\nMaybach in the garage, elevator in the residence (Huh?)\nMy pockets bulgin', bulgin', pokin' out just like a pussy print (Wop, yeah)\n\nPussy print (Huh?), p-pussy print\nMy pockets bulgin', bulgin'\nPokin' out just like a pussy print (Wop)\nPussy print, p-pussy print\nMy pockets bulgin', bulgin'\nPokin' out just like a pussy print (Mwah, yeah)\nPussy print (Huh?), p-pussy print\nMy pockets bulgin', bulgin'\nPokin' out just like a pussy print (Wop)\nPussy print, p-pussy print\nMy pockets bulgin', bulgin'\nPokin' out just like a pussy print (Mwah)\nYou might also like\nMe and Guwop makin' super moves\nMakin' stupid cash, stack it through the roof\nYou don't fuck with me? The feelin' mutual\nI'd feel the same if I drove that Subaru\nWe hit the city, the old me goin' OC\nHow her friend only gonna watch, that is so weak\nSeven times in a row, I could go the whole week\nI could take you from the nosebleeds to the floor seats\nBut I need that, in the sauna, in the bathroom, at your mama's\nLike a porn star, I'm a monster; you a dancer, on the camera\nIn the G-string, girl, I want you; at the concert, at the condo\nIn my bedroom, in the guest room\nIn the restroom, fuck it, every room (Yeah)\nTryna see that\u2014\n\nPussy print (Huh?), p-pussy print\nMy pockets bulgin', bulgin'\nPokin' out just like a pussy print (Wop)\nPussy print, p-pussy print\nMy pockets bulgin', bulgin'\nPokin' out just like a pussy print (Mwah)\nPussy print (Huh?), p-pussy print\nMy pockets bulgin', bulgin'\nPokin' out just like a pussy print (Wop)\nPussy print, p-pussy print\nMy pockets bulgin', bulgin'\nPokin' out just like a pussy print\nMwah"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsLast Time Lyrics\nZaytoven\nHah, Wop, Trav, hah\nJust took half of it (Ooh)\nJust took half of it (Wizzop, hah, okay)\n\nI love when my bitch get drunk 'cause she talk greasy to me (Mwah)\nNigga with an attitude, this shit gettin' easy to me (Easy)\nThe last time I drunk some lean, I was out of my mind (Lean)\nTried to give me twenty years and that's a whole lotta time (Fucked)\nA married woman divorced her husband to spend the weekend with me\nHe think it nasty when she squirt, but that shit sexy to me (Hah)\nThe last time I took some molly, took a gram and a half (Ooh)\nNiggas think they know 'bout Gucci but they don't know the half\nSee, I'm an ex-X popper and online shopper (Ooh)\nNiggas thought I was a clone, they heard me speak proper (Proper)\nConvicted felon worth 10 million, I'm a well-known robber (Wow)\nLike Shawty Lo, I got 10 children\nYeah, yeah, Lo my partner, Wop (Lo)\n\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it (Hah)\n'Cause last time I took pills, I had to smash a bitch (Geek)\nAnd last time I smoked gas, I almost crashed a whip (Skrrr, skrrr)\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it (Half)\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it (Hah, wow)\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it\nYou might also like\nLast time we took drugs, you just took half of it, yeah (It's lit)\nStretchin' out my jeans just to make cash fit in (Yeah)\nWake up every mornin' to some ass and grits, yeah (Yeah)\nRaw dog all my birds, I'm tryna have some chicks, yeah (Brr, brr)\nFee-fie-fie-fo (Yeah), Zone 6 to the Mo (Yeah)\nLa Flame linked with La Flare\nYeah, that's heat and snow (Yeah, yeah)\nGoin' in all year, three hundred plus days long (Straight up)\nMakin' money all year, talkin' fifty-two weeks strong\nBetter back up, give me space (Yeah)\nI want ice cream on her face\nGoin' Pharrell Williams on the case (Oh my god)\nOh, then we skate-skate-skate away (Yeah)\n\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it\n'Cause last time I took pills, I had to smash a bitch\nAnd last time I smoked gas, I almost crashed a whip\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it (Hah)\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it (Hah)\n\nThe last time I went to Onyx, man, I ordered a dub (Ooh)\nTried to leave with every big booty bitch in the club (Yeah)\nI bought a Rolls Royce and a Lambi when I went to Miami (Vroom)\nThe last time I seen lil mama, she wasn't wearin' no panties\nLast time I went to Vegas, spent 200k gamblin' (Wow)\nI'm just an east Atlanta nigga servin' junkies in Chamblee (Skrrr)\nThe last time I tricked out, I brought four hoes to my place (Hah)\nThey call me Gucci Mane Picasso, 'cause I painted they face (Guwop)\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it (Hah)\n'Cause last time I took pills, I had to smash a bitch (Geek)\nAnd last time I smoked gas, I almost crashed a whip (Skrrr, skrrr)\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it (Hah)\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it (Hah, wow)\nLast time I took drugs, I just took half of it (Burrr)\n\nTrav, blaow, it's Gucci (Straight up)\nHah, burrr, wow (Yeah)\nBling, burrr (Yeah, oh my god)"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsI Think I Love Her Lyrics\nYeah, hey\nGucci always talkin' 'bout he love somebody\nHe don't love nobody (Uh-uh)\nMatter fact, nigga, you owe me some money don't you?\nLet me show you how I do this shit (Get money)\n\nYellow Benz with a spoiler kit, with my spoiled lil' chick\nYellow diamonds on my neck and wrist, match this yellow bitch\nShe a trip, shawty, she the shit, she know she the shit\nIf you don't buy her what she want then she throw a fit\nShe a bitch, shawty, mean as shit but she super thick\nAnd she act silly like a kid, give her candy stick\nShe a pit, make her flip a brick, make her sick a chick\nSince a jit, I've been slangin' dick, Gucci Mane the shit (Burr)\nI met a girl name Susie, I let her join my group\nI know she not a groupie, so I let her in my coupe\nI stashed her in my fender wall and stashed her in my tire\nSusie is a money maker but that bitch a liar\nSusie roll in '08 'Rari but that girl on fire\nPull us over Candler Road, said she had some priors\nTen bricks in my car, shawty singing like Mariah\nSinging like the choir, better yet singing like Mya (Bitch)\n\nWell, my name is Susie and Gucci think I love him\nThat sucka think I'm loyal but I fucks with all the hustlas\nI be wit' all the ballas, I be at all the spots\nI might be in yo' kitchen, nigga, cooking with yo' pots\nYou might also like\nI think I love her\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nI think I love her\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nI know I love her\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nI know I love her\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nI think I love her\n\nTold my boy, man, Polow Da Don\nI think I love this girl, man, huh, why?\nShe sweet but keep kief, she stains her Irene\nTwo piece, she dime piece and jeans, they dead meat\nShe sweet, she so deep, she read with good teeth\nTwo jobs, she get cheese, her dates, are my treat\nHow neat, she loves to eat, we eat bon app\u00e9tit\nWe feed, she's so neat and like me, she so neat\nNigga, always talk but I run the block\nThis bitch is so hot, my clique, I close shop\nMy wrist froze with rocks, I cop all the drops\nUnfold all the knots, expose the have-nots\nMy hoes pose with pot like young Goldilocks\nWe got white bulging rocks, Ziploc stocks to cop\nWe never closin' shop, we hot, steaming hot\nI'm Susie Sarah plot, a click clack, p-pop-pop\n\nI think I love her\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nI think I love her\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nI know I love her\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nI know I love her\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nNigga, you don't love me\nI think I love her"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsI Heard Lyrics\nI heard she can do some tricks with her mouth nigga\nHeard that bitch got a thing for them Boss niggas\nHeard she be lyin' on them boys that floss nigga\nI heard she can do some tricks with her mouth nigga\nI heard (ugh) I heard (what) I heard (what)\nI heard (Rich Homie) I heard (Gucci)\nI heard (what you hear?)\nI heard (don't talk to them)\nI heard\n\nI heard that bitch stay on her shit\nSo you know the ho loyal\nI heard that bitch got a bitch\nCome to find out she been lyin', she from Florida\nShawty make sense (cents), she a dime and a quarter\nShe pay her rent and she spoil her daughter\nAnd that don't mean shit cause the bitch still lied\nNo eyes, I'm blind\nTo the fact that a bitch\nAin't even got a dime, she broke\nBut she fine, she need help\nShe tired, they listenin'\nShe wired, she snitchin'\nBe quiet, I'm runnin'\nI'm hidin' my truck\nOutside, it runnin'\nAnd I'm out I'm smashin'\nMe and Gucci, we wildin'\nWe laughin', Cinemax\nIt's a movie, hit the gas\nAnd we'll lose 'em fifty bags\nAnd I'll move 'em, nigga ask\nI do this, four bitches one jacuzzi\nYou might also like\nI heard she can do some tricks with her mouth nigga\nHeard that bitch got a thing for them Boss niggas\nHeard she be lyin' on them boys that floss nigga\nI heard she can do some tricks with her mouth nigga\nI heard (ugh) I heard (what) I heard (what)\nI heard (Rich Homie) I heard (Gucci)\nI heard (what you hear?)\nI heard (don't talk to them)\nI heard\n\nShe suck the dick like no teeth\nShe on her knees like she got no knees\nIt's three and we ain't got no lean\nGotta call somebody need more PT\nI walk straight in it don't frisk me\nDon't run up on Wop that's risky\nI'm a black silverback with big nuts\nBig bomb, big pistol\nHundred fifty in this handgun\nFuck with me, nigga fuck with me\nI met a bad bitch, she was a bad bitch\nBut no draft pick 'cause she a broke bitch\nGo hang yourself here the rope bitch\nDrink two shots of Clorox, bitch\nGod damn you got a mouth on you could be a model\nCan't really put no price on you, cause baby swallow\nSuck my dick and lick my balls all night girl you a baller\nAnd if I ever see the bitch in LIV she get a bottle\nFor my ex girl at Central Station, 300 dollars\nAnd you can keep your husband, I don't want your ho don't need the problems\nSippin' lean while she suckin' my dick, I got a boner\nSmokin' weed while she eatin' other bitches cause I'm a stoner\nRich Homie Quan and Gucci, we trap scholars\nI heard she can do some tricks with her mouth nigga\nHeard that bitch got a thing for them Boss niggas\nHeard she be lyin' on them boys that floss nigga\nI heard she can do some tricks with her mouth nigga\nI heard (ugh) I heard (what) I heard (what)\nI heard (Rich Homie) I heard (Gucci)\nI heard (what you hear?)\nI heard (don't talk to them)\nI heard"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7ais1st Day out Tha Feds Lyrics\n(EarDrummers)\nYeah, it's Wizop\nIt's Gucci\nHuh\nMike WiLL\n(Mike WiLL Made-It)\n\nI'm hearin' shooters loadin' pistols while I'm brushin' my teeth (Dang)\nI get so many death threats, it's gettin' normal to me (Grra)\nBut I bend, don't break, I don't ask, just take\nBlack gloves, black tape and I don't play nor pray (Nope)\nWake up and take a piss, I hear 'em sharpenin' knives\nMain focus every day is make it out here alive (Lord)\nTake a shower in my boots and go to sleep in my shoes\nLast night, I had a dream some killers ran in my room (Ah)\nTrying to be patient, but, nigga, I can't wait (Nah)\nOnly chance to kill my enemies and beat my case (Yeah)\nSo when they ask me how I feel about 'em, I can't say\nYou either with me or against me or you in my way (Pussy)\nI got a pack of hungry wolves and if I don't feed 'em\nThen they might turn on me, feel like I don't need 'em\nI keep the best pedigree, but, hell, I don't breed 'em (Grr)\nIt's a lot of people scared of me and I can't blame 'em\nThey call me crazy so much, I think I'm startin' to believe 'em\nI did some things to some people that was downright evil\nIs it karma comin' back to me? So much drama\nMy own mama turned her back on me and that's my mama (Mama)\nI lost three people close to me in one summer\nTen years later, still don't know shot up my Hummer (Hmm)\nBut I bend I don't break, I don't ask I take (I take)\nBlack gloves and black tape, nigga, it's my first day (Wop)\nYou might also like\nWop\nWop\nWop\nWop\nFuck you, fuck you, pussy\nWop\nWop\nWop (Mike Will Made-It)\nWop\nWop"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsDrove U Crazy Lyrics\nHuh, yeah, it's Gucci!\nTiller! Brr, brr-brr!\n\nPull up in a Lam', it'll drive you crazy\nHad to cut her off cause the bitch too lazy\nShe wanna ride the wave, but my waves too wavy\nAnd your car too slow, you need to drive Miss Daisy\nJumped out the feds like, \"Fuck you, pay me\"\nGot her foamin' mouth like the bitch got rabies\nGot me runnin' out the spot like the spot got raided\n'Cause I'm so much different then the nigga you dated\nSmilin' in the camera like, \"Bitch, I made it\"\nBig Guwop got the whole club faded\nGot a bitch so bad that my ex bitch hate it\nTell me how you feel when you see me skatin'\nNah, you don't call me baby\nWe ain't finna go to the mall,Ms. Lady\nWhen you leave me feelin' standin' tall, Ms. Lady\nLike can you take it, take it, take it all, Ms. Lady?\nNever get a love like this\nNever ever, ever meet a thug like this\nNever met a plug like this\nNever seen a nigga in the club like this\nNever hug like this\nNever pour Ace of Spades in the tub like this\nNever got drunk like this\nOr beat from the back on the rug like this\nYou might also like\nWhat? Tell 'em how crazy I drove you\nTalk about how crazy you drove me\nTalk about them favors you owe me\nTalk about them\nTalk about them lies you told me\nTalk about true colors you showed me\nTalk about them, what?\nTell 'em how crazy I drove you\nTalk about how crazy you drove me\nTalk about them favors you owe me\nTalk about them\nTalk about them lies you told me\nTalk about true colors you showed me\nTalk about them\n\nAye, lil' mama say she fuck with me tough, yeah\nLil' mama say she fuck with me tough, yeah\nHer ex-boyfriend's words cut deep\nAye, Young Tiller in the cut, yeah\nAye, Young Tiller goin' up, yeah\nAt your head with that uppercut, yeah\nI'm still on the motherfuckin' come up\nBut y'all already know where I'm from, yeah\nStraight from the 502, hey\nSouthside Dirty, I grew, hey\nNow they wanna show my moves, hey\nEvery little thing that I do and say\nMy old bitch said she need closure\nI just think she wanna get closer\nI just think she want some exposure\nTell people how crazy I drove her\nTell people all the dreams I sold her\nI'm sorry, you cannot lean on my shoulder\nI already got too many burdens\nMost of them 'bout to give to my attorney\nI got too many niggas in my face now\nThis ain't the time 'nor place now\nThis for my niggas that stay down\nFuck all you niggas that wanna hate now\nWhat? Tell 'em how crazy I drove you\nTalk about how crazy you drove me\nTalk about them favors you owe me\nTalk about them\nTalk about them lies you told me\nTalk about true colors you showed me\nTalk about them, what?\nTell 'em how crazy I drove you\nTalk about how crazy you drove me\nTalk about them favors you owe me\nTalk about them\nTalk about them lies you told me\nTalk about true colors you showed me\nTalk about them\n\nHuh, Tiller, Gucci, huh, brr!\nWoo, it\u2019s Wizzop, huh!"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsOff the Leash Lyrics\nHonorable C.N.O.T.E\n\nI put it down so long and so strong that your bitch will leave home\nDo wrong and your bitch is off the leash\nTwo days gone she been gone so long you can't get her on the phone cuz that bitch has been with me\nSay she wanna' hang when she wanna' hang bang, Gucci wanna bang bang baby you can be a freak\nLike Big and Diddy don't bring your bitch around me better marry that girl get your ass on one knee\n\nBitch got a camel toe you know I gotta reach\nAss too fat for them lil' thongs she got the cheeks\nStay down for them macaroni cook that dope like ravioli Rollie like a Rollie-pollie 'ollie, yee\nBurr burr burr Liu Kang, Sub-Zero, jewelry freeze\nAll black diamonds just like pepper make me sneeze\nGot off all them bonds and now we showing Rollie, like a Rollie-pollie 'ollie, buy my bitch a brand new pair Kanye's\nWoo, woo dope dancing like Chris Breezy\nWoo, woo hiding that's DeKalb county police\nThey behind me but they on the nigga right behind me rear\nGoddamn look at this shit here\nI just started my fucking career, yeah\n\nI put it down so long and so strong that your bitch will leave home\nDo wrong man your bitch is off the leash\nTwo days gone she been gone so long you can\u2019t get her on the phone cuz that bitch has been with me\nSay she wanna' hang when she wanna' hang bang, Gucci wanna bang bang baby you can be a freak\nLike Big and Diddy don't bring your bitch around me better marry that girl get your ass on one knee\nYou might also like\nGot a girl with four degrees but she keep it so street switch that game up on me she treat me like a piece of meat\nGot me weak in the knees, SWV, gave me head on the beach she a motherfuckin' freak\nPretty teeth and pretty feet and some pretty ass cheeks I ain't fucked her in two weeks wait til she get a load of me\nIf you broke, man, then leave her leave her\nIf you gangster keep her keep her\nIf you not then leave with me when I see him say \"Nice to meet you\"\nIma paint my Bentley purple cause you got on purple sneakers\nIma paint my Phantom purple cause we smokin purple reefa\nMaybe we can go to Puerto Rico you dont need your visa\nWe\u2019ll sneak back two illegal people and a cheaper pound of reefer weed\n\nI put it down so long and so strong that your bitch will leave home\nDo wrong man your bitch is off the leash\nTwo days gone she been gone so long you can\u2019t get her on the phone cuz that bitch has been with me\nSay she wanna' hang when she wanna' hang bang, Gucci wanna bang bang baby you can be a freak\nLike Big and Diddy don't bring your bitch around me better marry that girl get your ass on one knee\n\nSomebody need to call Tyrone and tell him that his bitch is with the boy Peewee\nI done stayed down so motherfuckin long, paper long, they call that boy Peewee Longway (Longway, Longway)\nI got gas packs so motherfuckin strong start crush a blunt, smoke like a bong, I got that pack from PeeWee Longway\nI\u2019m outta space, I\u2019m outta space, that molly on me\nI\u2019m skeetin it in her face can\u2019t wait to show the homies\nI\u2019m hittin' it from the back I think she buffered her body\nTwo foreigner\u2019s back to back but I got that new body\nBeen pushing them narcotic packs but don\u2019t you tell nobody\n(Been pushing them narcotic packs but don\u2019t you tell nobody)\nI put it down so long and so strong that your bitch will leave home\nDo wrong man your bitch is off the leash\nTwo days gone she been gone so long you can\u2019t get her on the phone cuz that bitch has been with me\nSay she wanna' hang when she wanna' hang bang, Gucci wanna bang bang baby you can be a freak\nLike Big and Diddy don't bring your bitch around me better marry that girl get your ass on one knee"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsBoth Eyes Closed Lyrics\nHah\nHuh?\nHuh?\n(We got London on da Track)\nDrop-top\nWop\n(If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you)\n\nCartier frames, call me four eyes\nStill can cook a deuce up with both eyes closed (Skrrt)\nA lot of people still got a lot of shit to say\nAbout the clothes and the pics I post (Huh?)\nBut it's a beautiful day outside today (Yeah)\nDon't know what car I'ma drive today\nPromoter just brought me two hundred grand\nAnd I'ma count it by hand, all hundreds, with both eyes closed\n\nI've got a chick so fine, make a blind man see her (Woo)\nShe runnin' through my mind, that's a fine idea (Yeah)\nAnd I ain't Blake Griffin, I don't drive no Kia (Huh?)\nIf it ain't ten mil', I can't sign no deal (No)\nI'm all about a check, fresh Nikes, let's do it (Checks)\nAnd I spy a bitch that wanna straight get to it (I spy)\nTrap tutorial, ridin' down Memorial (Yoom)\nFrom the bando to the Waldorf Astoria (Woah)\nIf you don't like to see niggas shine, then close your eyes then (Huh)\nWe on a private island, vibin' to violins\nAutobiography, Gucci Mane the author\nAnd I'm the trap sponsor, Gucci Mane's the father (Yeah)\nAn eight-figure nigga just walked into Walter's (What?)\nIf you ain't gettin' money, then move out of Georgia (Go)\nHundred tapes and goin', go check my discography (Woah)\nThe freshest nigga livin', go check your photography (It's Gucci)\nYou might also like\nCartier frames, call me four eyes\nStill can cook a deuce up with both eyes closed (Skrrt)\nA lot of people still got a lot of shit to say\nAbout the clothes and the pics I post (Huh?)\nBut it's a beautiful day outside today (Yeah)\nDon't know what car I'ma drive today\nPromoter just brought me two hundred grand\nAnd I'ma count it by hand, all hundreds, with both eyes closed\n\nI just drove the Tesla with both eyes closed (True)\nMade a hundred thousand on the one-eyed stove (That's right)\nTwo-tone Wraith and a two-tone PP\nWalked out of Gucci with the two-tone GG (Tell 'em)\nBulletproof Rhino, coke color albino\nYeah, my sauce A1, no Fogo de Ch\u00e3o\nMakin' money in piles, sellin' people the pyro\nClick the link in the bio, I'm the illest that I know\nI'm the illest to rivals, all my cars got a title\nHad to rock just like Tidal, sell a preacher the Bible\nI'm a hustler for real, sell a hospital vitals\nSell my cousin some Adderall 'cause he takin' his finals\nTity Boi your highness, make it through any crisis\nAll I do is look straight, all the bullshit behind us\nGot the 'Ye on the bracelet, got the 'Ye on the frame\nGot the 'Ye on the watch, wore the 'Ye to the game\nCartier frames, call me four eyes\nStill can cook a deuce up with both eyes closed (Skrrt, wow)\nA lot of people still got a lot of shit to say\nAbout the clothes and the pics I post (Huh? True)\nBut it's a beautiful day outside today (Yeah)\nDon't know what car I'ma drive today\nPromoter just brought me two hundred grand (Hah)\nAnd I'ma count it by hand, all hundreds, with both eyes closed (Hold up)\n\nDon't mean to brag and boast, but I be fresher than most (Ayy)\nRan through my first million playin' on the West Coast (Trap)\nKeep some pretty girls 'round me everywhere that I go\nWe made it out the streets, pop a bottle, let's make a toast\nI run circles 'round square niggas with a blindfold\nShe said, \"Let's make love\", want me to fuck with my eyes closed (What?)\nBut lil' mama so fine, when she took her clothes off\nI went straight in it, both eyes closed\n(You crazy, bruh)\nHah, wait a minute, I'm fresh as fuck, let me strike a pose (It's Dolph)\nHands down, iced up, white and rose gold (Yeah)\nShe walkin' 'round my penthouse in my Versace robe (Hah)\nSince a juvenile, I stuck to the G code (Uh-huh)\nServin' out the kitchen, but I never touched the stove (Nah)\nI told my bitch, \"You mines now, you ain't gotta work\"\nJust keep it real and let's go spend the mils\nCartier frames, call me four eyes\nStill can cook a deuce up with both eyes closed (Skrrt)\nA lot of people still got a lot of shit to say\nAbout the clothes and the pics I post (Huh? Fuck 'em)\nBut it's a beautiful day outside today (Yeah)\nDon't know what car I'ma drive today\nPromoter just brought me two hundred grand\nAnd I'ma count it by hand, all hundreds, with both eyes closed"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsRumors Lyrics\n(Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up)\n(DJ Meech, lil' bitch)\n\nThem niggas get on y'all ass, y'all play with me like I ain't worse\nTryna gossip up the blogs like y'all ain't said my name first\nHe a junkie, he ain't shot his gun yet, he blame Percs\nShot a video and had a shootout in the same shirt\nWhat you know about popping out and trying to hit they face first?\nThey like Smurk, \"Your ass be tripping, better put your case first\"\nChoking who? I heard them rumors, niggas better play slow\nI don't want no niggas who you catch, I want the one I paid for\nWe on his ass, he in the A, you see how long they stay for\nAin't no hotel room, we pop outside the Hyatt with dracos\nHellcats, they get off any scene, the police chase those\nTrolling ass, we shot your homie, we ain't know he can take those\nIf I say your name, don't post it, opps be on all kind of shit\nAin't got time to watch your page to see if niggas died or shit\nI know bitches set you up, literally, niggas dying to hit\nIn this industry, ain't what it seem, this shit be counterfeit\nAin't no lacking, she say I'm a nigga from the trenches with a accent\nWhy you asking me who shot your homie, why you asking?\nYou got my number, you post shit on the 'Gram, you moving backwards\nYou lucky I don't be doing shit for the 'Gram, you niggas cowards\nYou might also like\nBetter not believe no rumors, rest in peace to Koopa\nI jumped on the school bus and I had brung a Ruger\nAlways drank an 8th of Act', I never drunk a cooler\nThey get your location, they might pop outside in Ubers\nWhen his goofy ass jumped in the streets? His ass a hooper\nI know this shit don't matter, I took a shower with a cougar\nBring him out retirement, he gon' kill you for that mula\nCatch him in the morning, wake him up, that boy a rooster (Go)\n\nHe took it to trial, I tried to tell him it was stupid (I knew it)\nThey gave him so much time, his knees got weak and he was woozy (Damn)\nWatch the shit you say, the feds be listening to the music (Woah)\nAnd they gon' take your lyrics and build a case and try to use it\nD.A. dropped my murder, didn't have evidence to prove it (Nah)\nI think my house is haunted, yeah, by who? The ghost of Pookie (Woah)\nHe ain't killed nobody but keep rapping 'bout the shootings (Pussy)\nStill ain't got revenge yet but keep making up excuses (Wow)\nCuz done drank so much lean that his gut got big as Gucci's (Lean)\nTold him quit while he ahead and don't go out like Whitney Houston (Huh?)\nHe got caught without it, now they robbing him for his rubies (Woah)\nHe wouldn't give it up so he got buried in his Cuban (It's Gucci)\n\nBetter not believe no rumors, rest in peace to Koopa\nI jumped on the school bus, and I had brung a Ruger\nAlways drank an 8th of Act', I never drunk a cooler\nThey get your location, they might pop outside in Ubers\nWhen his goofy ass jumped in the streets? His ass a hooper\nI know this shit don't matter, I took a shower with a cougar\nBring him out retirement, he gon' kill you for that mula\nCatch him in the morning, wake him up, that boy a rooster"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsWasted Lyrics\nHa (Ha), ha (Ha, ha, ha)\nHa (Ha), ha (Ha, ha)\nWasted, I'm wasted, so wasted, so wasted\nTake it, FATBOI\n\nRockstar lifestyle, might don't make it (Wasted)\nLiving life high, every day, clique wasted (Wasted)\nSipping on purple stuff, rolling up stanky (Wasted)\nWake up in the morning, ten o'clock drinking (Wasted)\n\"Party, party, party!\" Let's all get wasted (Wasted)\nShake it for me, baby girl, do it butt-naked (Wasted)\nI'm so wasted, she's so wasted (Wasted)\nTell the bartender, \"send me twenty more cases!\"\n\nGeeking like Whitney, geeking like Britney (Wasted)\nGucci no hippie, but he stoned like Jimmy (Jimmy)\nX-pill poppers, geeked up crazy (Crazy)\nWhole clique rolling, everyone's wasted (Wasted)\nPurple Codeine Sprite pink: don't waste it (Waste it)\nMix-up, grandma drink it, didn't taste it (Taste it)\nNow grandma sipping syrup, leaning wasted\nWalking around fucked up twisting her fingers\nHomegirl slipped up, drunk, got wasted (Wasted)\nNow she backstage and she trying to get famous\nSee me, I'm a drinkie, drinking, Gucci Mane shake it (shake it)\nClub life, damn right, Gucci Mane wasted (wasted)\nYou might also like\nRockstar lifestyle, might don't make it (Wasted)\nLiving life high, every day, clique wasted (Wasted)\nSipping on purple stuff, rolling up stanky (Wasted)\nWake up in the morning, ten o'clock drinking (Wasted)\n\"Party, party, party!\" Let's all get wasted (Wasted)\nShake it for me, baby girl, do it butt-naked (Wasted)\nI'm so wasted, she's so wasted (Wasted)\nTell the bartender, \"send me twenty more cases!\"\n\nI don't wear tight jeans like the white boys\nBut I do get wasted like the white boys\nNow I'm looking for a bitch to suck this Almond Joy\nSay she got to stop sucking cause her jaws sore\nGot a bitch on the couch, bitch on the floor (on the floor)\nYour partner just popped another one, now he rolling more\nWas on 3 pills, now he on 4\nI don't know why, but that Remy turn me into a whore\nWalked in the club, pocket full of big faces\nGot that .40 on my waist and it's off safety\nAbout 40 goons with me and we all wasted\nOn Remy straight tonight, dogg, no chaser\n\nRockstar lifestyle, might don't make it (Wasted)\nLiving life high, every day, clique wasted (Wasted)\nSipping on purple stuff, rolling up stanky (Wasted)\nWake up in the morning, ten o'clock drinking (Wasted)\n\"Party, party, party!\" Let's all get wasted (Wasted)\nShake it for me, baby girl, do it butt-naked (Wasted)\nI'm so wasted, she's so wasted (Wasted)\nTell the bartender, \"send me twenty more cases!\"\nWhole clique faded, we geeked up crazy (crazy)\nBig boy bracelets, we \"white-boy wasted\" (Wasted)\nNo shirts, fuck it! Our necks and arms are tatted\nWe sloppy drunk, disgusted, the liquor keep wasting (wasting)\nRacing, Chevy beating, booty\/butt chasing\nSpring bling, 50 thousand, white girls shaking\nSome dancing naked, but everyone's wasted (Wasted)\nMagic City Monday, ball-player wasted (Wasted)\nThis is for your uncle drinking Thunderbird, wasted (Wasted)\n12-pack wasted, I need more cases (Wasted)\nAnd Gucci's not a racist all my diamonds caucasian\n\nRockstar lifestyle, might don't make it (Wasted)\nLiving life high, every day, clique wasted (Wasted)\nSipping on purple stuff, rolling up stanky (Wasted)\nWake up in the morning, ten o'clock drinking (Wasted)\n\"Party, party, party!\" Let's all get wasted (Wasted)\nShake it for me, baby girl, do it butt-naked (Wasted)\nI'm so wasted, she's so wasted (Wasted)\nTell the bartender, \"send me twenty more cases!\"\n\nThis is GPSA (Ghetto Public Service Announcement)\nWe don't get fucked up no more\nWe get wasted (Wasted)\nGucci Mane, Plies, FATBOI"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsBoth (Remix) Lyrics\nSouthside\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you\n\nI don't usually do this, but the drink has got me moody\nGot me thinking 'bout decisions, man, I shoulda left with Juve\nGot me busting with my cutie, I can't trust her nor her booty\nEvery night, she acting new-school, I am not gon' be a student\nI got class, I got trash, I got bills, I got pills\nHeard them boys gon' write me off, I hope they also writing they wills\nI got beam, I got flash, I got dreams and nightmares past\nI'm allergic to the *brrrr*, I'm using wings to wipe my ass\nRight now, I'm high as shit, I'm on the Bumbu, straight\nI just got out my bitch, felt like the Sunken Place\nShe give me drunken face, she give me highest praise\nAnd when I'm in LA, I'm smoking Kobe Bryant eighths\nI watched my father whip the yay up like some mayonnaise\nMoms would come home, they would argue, he didn't put away the plates\nTaught me how to do my dirt and clean up at the same time\nRight now, I'm on a couple percs and leaning at the same time\nRemix, baby! Tunechi\n\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now, got me talking about my life\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now and I need ya in my life\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\nYou might also like\nI got so many felonies, I might can't never go to Canada\nBut Drake said he gon' pull some strings, so let me check my calendar\nI just popped me one of them what-you-call-its and it boosted my stamina\nNow I'm fucking her on the banister, guess I just East Atlanta'd her\nI'm in an all-red drop tarantula, fuck a Challenger\nDamn, these hoes ain't got no manners, bruh, where's the manager?\nI keep throwing rubber bandies up, hoe, pull your panties up\nCause you fuck like a granny fuck, you're just an amateur\nThis Patek Philipe gon' make this crooked judge try throw the book at me\nI look like half a million worth of heroin when she look at me\nBut you ain't gotta fuck with me, my nig, but you're stuck with me\nBut how you called the cops on me, my nig? You grew up with me\n\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now, got me talking about my life\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now and I need ya in my life\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\n\nYeah, I'm both\nYeah, I had a drink, yeah, I smoked\nYeah, you think I need you, but I don't\nJust left out Dubai with all my folk\nOpen water, my location is remote\nShout-out Yachty, but this ain't a Lil Boat\nThis some shit I wrote about when I was broke\nSee, the power of the mind is not a joke\nMan, I said that I would do it and I did\nUsed to get leftovers out the fridge\nNobody was famous where I lived\n'Til I got it jumping at the crib\nTook a lot to be able to give, I mean\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now, got me talking about my life\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now and I need ya in my life\nI don't usually do this unless I'm drunk or I'm high\nBut I'm both right now\n\nSouthside"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsGuwop Home Lyrics\nMike Willy with me, nigga\nBig Guwop home (Ayy)\nWe no longer miss you, ayy, yeah (Skrrt)\nI know Guwop home (We home, baby)\nWe all no longer miss you, yeah\n(Mike WiLL Made-It)\nI can't wait (Ooh)\n(Zaytoven)\n\nDream, it's a young nigga dream, yeah (Oh)\nMoney talk like I'm Charlie Sheen, yeah (Wop, woo)\nI'm a blood but I got on blue jeans (It's Wizzop, woo)\nNigga act so tough, it's startin' the scene, ooh (Uh-uh, uh, brrt)\nIn blue flame, yeah, the Trap God throwin' green rain\nNice guy, mean chain, pull up in a cream Range\nOrange seats, orange feet, what do all that orange mean?\nOld rich-ass nigga, I got everything (It's Gucci)\n\nRose gold watch, but my bottle pink gold (Burr)\nThree red hoes walkin' 'round in red robes\nCan't, can't, can't stay the night, I'm not the type to be on Skype, ho\nWrote me off, said that I was gone, that was a typo\nTake a white girl out a trailer, make her Iggy (Iggy)\nTake, take, take a black bitch outta Magic, make her Nicki (Nicki)\nPissy yellow Rollie, baby, pissy in her feelings (Pissin')\nMy young bitches show respect, they call me Mr. Millions (Woah)\nBrown skin chick and she love to wear purple (Purp')\nHer nails purple, lips purple, pussy hair purple (Man)\nBig titty Amazon in my black Benz (No job)\nI'm a rich black man, got a couple white friends (Wizzop)\nYou might also like\nDream, it's a young nigga dream, yeah (Oh)\nMoney talk like I'm Charlie Sheen, yeah (Woo)\nI'm a blood but I got on blue jeans (Woo)\nNigga act so tough, it's startin' the scene, ooh (Uh-uh, uh, brrt)\nIn blue flame, yeah, the Trap God throwin' green rain\nNice guy, mean chain, pull up in a cream Range\nOrange seats, orange feet, what do all that orange mean?\nOld rich-ass nigga, I got everything (It's Gucci)\n\nMy teeth white like a toilet tissue (Ayy)\nStop the cappin', boy, you know you miss her (Ayy)\nWe hit the lobby, then we saw you kiss her (Ayy)\nLil' mama crazy, she gon' try to kill you (Ayy)\nI got the weed, bring the molly with you (Oh)\nI got the syrup, bring the Jolly Ranchers (Uh)\nYou talk to 12, we gon' off your body (Uh)\nYou trippin', boy, you need some knowledge in you (Uh)\nBoss man from the 1248 (Oh), for the clan, nigga, twelve, forty plays (Uh)\nLivin' good, everyday my birthday (Slatt)\nPockets full of money, Master P, ayy (Woo, huh)\nNational bid day, free the Wop, nigga, National Siblings Day (Yeah, yeah)\nCall the dentist day, pull up to the public, come and see the bae (Ah)\nRun it up to the top, get out and ran it back to the top (Yeah)\nFlood your ear, your neck, your wrist, your fingers\nAnd put it all on the rocks (Yeah, yeah)\nSay Guwop home and, yeah, it's official, grab some tissues\nWhat's wrong with you? (Ayy)\nDream, it's a young nigga dream, yeah (Oh)\nMoney talk like I'm Charlie Sheen, yeah (Woo)\nI'm a blood but I got on blue jeans (Woo)\nNigga act so tough, it's startin' the scene (Uh-uh, uh, brrt)\nIn, in, in blue flame, yeah, the Trap God throwin' green rain\nNice guy, mean chain, pull up in a cream Range\nOrange seats, orange feet, what do all that orange mean?\nOld rich-ass nigga, I got everything (It's Gucci)\n\nBig Guwop home (Ayy)\nWe no longer miss you, ayy, yeah (Skrrt)\nI know Guwop home (We home, baby)\nWe all no longer miss you, yeah\nI can't wait (Ooh)\n\nRun it up to the top\nGet it out and ran it back to the top\nFlood your ears, your neck, your wrist, your fingers\nAnd put it all on the rocks\nSay Guwop home and, yeah, it's official, grab some tissues"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsBricks Lyrics\nIt's your boy Yo Gotti, yeah\nGucci Mane La Flare\nMy nigga Ralph in here\nZaytoven on the beat, nigga\nAnd it's a street nigga holiday\nMy nigga DJ Holiday, yeah\n\nBricks, all-white bricks\nOff-white bricks, light-tan bricks\nJust hit a lick for fifty more bricks\nBalling like a bitch with all these bricks\nBricks, thirty-six zips\nThat's a whole chick, want a bad bitch?\nGotta have bricks, yeah, that makes sense\nYeah, I make hits, but I still take bricks\n\nSo Icy CEO, I'm a fool with the snow\nThey think I'm putting VVS jewels in the coke\nMy watch a cool hundred, paint-job a cold twenty\nAnd after this flip, I'm quitting the trap cold-turkey\nSike, the pack in and I'm working\nDrought season in, charged your ass a whole thirty\nBut right now you can get it for a low number\nThe fish scale white, same color my Hummer\nZone 6 polar bears never see summer\nIt's winter all year 'cause the birds fly yonder\n95 Air Max 'cause I'm a dope runner\nI'm ballin' like an athlete but got no jumper\nYou might also like\nIt's bricks, all-white bricks\nOff-white bricks, light-tan bricks\nJust hit a lick for fifty more bricks\nBalling like a bitch with all these bricks\nBricks, thirty-six zips\nThat's a whole chick, want a bad bitch?\nGotta have bricks, yeah, that makes sense\nYeah, I make hits, but I still take bricks\n\nI'm like a waitress in the trap, I've got something to serve\nThat's sixteen bars, same price for a bird\nWhat you need, a bird? Or a couple pounds?\nI'm on Cleveland Ave, you know my side of town\nSo many bricks I can build my own apartment\nYou better have a check when you come in my department\nYes, I break 'em down and I sell 'em whole\nTry me, watch your whole crew fall like some dominoes\nI got a trap house and a trap car\nA hundred thousand off a cap, that's a trap star\nAll this smoke got me feeling real nauseous\nRiding with them bricks got me feeling real cautious\n\nBricks, all-white bricks\nOff-white bricks, light-tan bricks\nJust hit a lick for fifty more bricks\nBalling like a bitch with all these bricks\nBricks, thirty-six zips\nThat's a whole chick, want a bad bitch?\nGotta have bricks, yeah, that makes sense\nYeah, I make hits, but I still take bricks\nTony Montana, all I have in this world\nIs my hundred-round chopper and my white girl\nOil-based bricks, shit hard to cook\nCall the plug back, tell him he got took\nKnow what that mean? This shit free\nThat means none for him and more for me\nI took something, I'm gutter, bitch\nDon't trust me dawg, this that North Memphis shit\nOld school, new Porsche\nCouple choppers just in case they wanna go to war\nBricks, AKA my best friend\nTwenty-eight inch rims, call 'em grown men\nDope stepped on, call it step-child\nI got that Slim Shady, we call it 8 Mile\nI'm from North Memphis, Watkins and Brown\nGotti Street and nigga, that's my brick house\n\nBricks, all-white bricks\nOff-white bricks, light-tan bricks\nJust hit a lick for fifty more bricks\nBalling like a bitch with all these bricks\nBricks, thirty-six zips\nThat's a whole chick, want a bad bitch?\nGotta have bricks, yeah, that makes sense\nYeah, I make hits, but I still take bricks"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eDance with the Devil Lyrics\nAye, Lil Metro on that beat\n\nA hundred grand'll make a nigga cool, wanna dance with the devil\nGet the gloves and the shovel, he's tryna dance with the devil\nA ghetto superstar make a bitch want to dance with the devil\nWhen she glance at the bezel, she wanna dance with the devil\nDiamonds on a nigga neck dancing, dancing\nDiamonds on my wrist and fist dancing, dancing\nDiamonds on my pinky ring dancing, dancing\nBig booty bitch keep dancing, dancing\nReal trap niggas take chances, flirting with the devil slow dancing\nReal street bitches take chances, flirting with the devil romancing\nDancing\n\nDancing all night ten grand make you dance, dance\nHundreds in my pants turn your chick to my girlfriend\nGucci in the batter's box I just walked out the bullpen\nPitching dog food, make a junkie out your husband\nHundred stacks'll make 'em shoot you clean in your dad hat\nCatch you at the trap and shoot you clean out your Hellcat\nEverybody wanna be the kingpin, man\nThe feds snatched 'em up, now we ain't seen this man\n2017, everybody get high\nTaking street drugs like they ass can't die\nAnd I ain't tryna preach 'cause I got high too\nI'm an ex-drug dealer, nigga how 'bout you\nI'm an ex-con, ex-hood, long with a dope bomb\nNiggas don't make twenty-one where I come from (Wow)\nTook a chance and fucked a hood hoe, no condom\nTook a chance and put a price tag on your loved one\nYou might also like\nA hundred grand'll make a nigga cool, wanna dance with the devil\nGet the gloves and the shovel, he's tryna dance with the devil\nA ghetto superstar make a bitch want to dance with the devil\nWhen she glance at the bezel, she wanna dance with the devil\nDiamonds on a nigga neck dancing, dancing\nDiamonds on my wrist and fist dancing, dancing\nDiamonds on my pinky ring dancing, dancing\nBig booty bitch keep dancing, dancing\nReal trap niggas take chances, flirting with the devil slow dancing\nReal street bitches take chances, flirting with the devil romancing\nDancing\n\nTattoos all over but she bougie\nActing stiff but her booty keep choosing\nIn every neighborhood there's a Gucci\nThe neighborhood dealer with an Uzi\nBaby started off right as a good girl\nNow she's tryna act hard like a hood girl\nTryna catch a nigga playing for the Falcons\nBut steady sucking up the nigga with the dragons\nDiamonds on my neck and wrist lit, it's a combo\nYellow bitch, her dark skin friend, call it gumbo\nPull up in a lot and the car cost a condo\nLeave with your chick but send her back with a grand though\nYeah, yeah, it's Gucci Mane and Metro\nIf Metro don't trust you I'ma foot you in your asshole\nYeah, I started from the bando\nI took her to the 6 but no, that's not Toronto\nA hundred grand'll make a nigga cool, wanna dance with the devil\nGet the gloves and the shovel, he's tryna dance with the devil\nA ghetto superstar make a bitch want to dance with the devil\nWhen she glance at the bezel, she wanna dance with the devil\nDiamonds on a nigga neck dancing, dancing\nDiamonds on my wrist and fist dancing, dancing\nDiamonds on my pinky ring dancing, dancing\nBig booty bitch keep dancing, dancing\nReal trap niggas take chances, flirting with the devil slow dancing\nReal street bitches take chances, flirting with the devil romancing\nDancing"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsSolitaire Lyrics\nBurr\nI'm out pussy\nIt's your worst nightmare\nGlacier, hah\n\nI was just sittin' in a cell playin' solitaire\nNow they see me everywhere, bracelet full of solitaires\nSolitaire, solitaire, neck, ear, solitaire\nBad bitch from Fort Lauderdale, said she love them solitaires\n\nFour mil for the crib, one point five just to keep me chill (One point five)\nWho my neighbors is? Jack and Jill, still trap up the hill (Through the hill)\nFiji water, talkin' Aquafina, glass, crystal clear (Clear)\nIce there, ice here (Ice), I just iced the atmosphere\n\n(Huncho), I'm walkin' real light (Walk)\nIt's somethin' like skatin' on ice (Skate)\nYour ho wanna fuck my vibe (Sheesh)\nHuncho Brett Favre, throw pies (Huncho)\nUh, try the gang and we dumpin' (Dumpin')\nGlacier Boy, it's a global warmin' (Yeah)\nNow everybody wanna come join in (Gang)\nNiggas born in, they ain't sworn in (No)\nYou might also like\nI was just sittin' in the cell playin' solitaire (Huh)\nNow they see me everywhere, bracelet full of solitaires (Wow)\nSolitaire, solitaire, neck, ear, solitaire\nBad bitch from Fort Lauderdale, say she love them solitaires (Mwah)\n\nBitch, I don't play no solitaire (No), I'm a fuckin' millionaire (Yeah)\nTrap stars everywhere (Trap), bad hoes everywhere\nRight wrist quarter million dollars, that's no lie, huh\nLeft wrist, all baguettes, I put it in the sky\n\nAll my stones single, man, they ain't with the mingling\nDamn near smashed the whole clip, but we ain't with that kinky shit\nWop be on that Nicki shit, my whole clique robbin'\nLookin' at the robbers like, \"Y'all ain't finna take shit\"\nGlacier Boy, amazin' shit, your jeweler ain't up on this\nCrazy diamond bracelet, I'm jealous of my own wrist\nYou ain't spent a million yet, you probably won't agree with this\nMake jewelers compete for us, we keep on coppin' pieces (It's Gucci)\n\nI was just sittin' in the cell playin' solitaire\nNow they see me everywhere, bracelet full of solitaires\nSolitaire, solitaire, neck, ear, solitaire\nBad bitch from Fort Lauderdale, say she love them solitaires\nWop, hah\nEskimo, Migo\nAll I know"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsFirst Day Out Lyrics\nHoliday season (Ayy)\nShouts out my nigga Zaytoven (Huh? We back in the buildin')\nWe workin', Zay (Holiday Season)\nRight back like we never left, nigga (Holiday season, nigga)\nWaka, what up, homie? (Huh?)\nShout out my nigga Woo (We back in the buildin')\nMy nigga Frenchie, Nicki Minaj\nShouts out my nigga OJ Juice (Huh?)\nShout out my nigga G Boy (Gucci)\nDJ Holiday, Writing On The Wall (New mixtape, skrrt, skrrt)\n(\"First Day Out\") You know what it is\nAyy, Gucci, how you gon' start the day off, nigga?\n\nI'm starting off my day with a blunt of purp (Damn)\nNo pancakes, just a cup of syrup (Well, damn)\nBaking soda, pot, and a silver spork (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nYou already know it's time to go to work\nI'm back up off the kitchen workin' with a chicken\nYou get 63 grams for like twelve-fifty (Wow)\n50 pounds of purp, 50 pounds of midget\nAs soon as it's gone, I sell another 60 (Huh)\nMy baby need some shoes, my aunty need a purse (Huh)\nSummer coming real soon so I need a vert (Damn)\nI hop up out that van with that duffel bag (Gucci)\nAnd if a nigga try me, I'ma bust his ass (Bow)\nI'm countin' up money in my living room\nBirds everywhere, I call it the chicken room (Damn)\nPills in the cabinet, pounds in the den (Gucci)\nAttic full of guns, basement full of Benjamins (Holiday Season)\nTwo AK-47s and a blow torch\nCouple junkies knocking hard on my front porch (Huh)\nA couple old schools in my backyard\nIf I don't know you, I'ma serve you through my burglar bars\nGucci back, bitch (Back, bitch), yeah, I'm back, bitch (Huh)\nDid you miss me (Did you miss me?) or miss my wealth bitch? (Huh)\nThis that new shit (What?), that county jail shit (True)\nThat 7th floor, Rice Street, straight out a cell shit\nYou on my shit list, I'm on the Forbes list\nSince I'm a rich nigga, I need a rich bitch (Gucci)\nI got a sick wrist (Bling), it cost 'bout six bricks\nI'm on that slick shit, that Zone 6 shit (Huh)\nYou might also like\nHuh, huh, what's happenin'?\nSo Icy CEO, we in the buildin'\nHuh, huh, huh, Zaytoven on the track, huh, damn, damn\nBurr, burr\nWow\nBling-blaow, bling-blaow"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsDarker Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, Wop\nGuwop, burr, burr, burr (1017)\nHuh? Hoo (808 Mafia)\n\nThe tints on my shit, they look darker\nPourin' up drank, nigga, my shit darker\nThe kush came in, this time look darker\nI'm whippin' up a brick and the work look darker\nKush came in, this time look darker\nPourin' up drank, nigga, my shit darker\nThe work came in, this time look darker\nAnd the tints on my shit, they look darker\n\nDark tint on my soowoo red Charger\nThe niggas round me drink lean, not water (Woo)\nI could never hold a job down like my father (Gucci)\nBut I could hold a block and push the rock, Shawn Carter (Skrr)\nBitches on my dick 'cause my skin real darker (Huh)\nGot a yellow bitch and the devil wears Prada (Mwah)\nGot the narcs on me, say my cartel got bothered (Woo, woo)\nBig fish in little pond, get swallowed (Well damn)\nDark weed, super dark weed, Cali OG (Huh)\nDark lean, super dark lean, straight codeine (Lean)\nDark meat, pretty brown bitch that adore me (Dark)\nDark tint on my dark Bent' on a dark street (Woo)\nYou might also like\nThe tints on my shit, they look darker (Dark)\nPourin' up drank, nigga, my shit darker (Woo)\nThe kush came in, this time look darker (Haha)\nI'm whippin' up a brick and the work look darker (Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr)\nKush came in, this time look darker (Woo)\nPourin' up drank, nigga, my shit darker (Wasted)\nThe work came in, this time look darker (Skrr)\nAnd the tints on my shit, they look darker\n\nIt's a dark night, had a gun fight with a dark clique (Shh)\nSet up by a dark skin bitch, she was dumb thick (Shh)\nGucci Mane keep pulling up in darkly painted cars (Cars)\nDropped the top on your bitch, now she looking at the stars (Gucci)\nDiamonds dancing on my wrist, you dancing with the star (Bling)\nGucci Mane so geeked up, he don't care you light or dark, ho (Icy)\nI just paid three hundred 'cause didn't have nowhere to park, ho (Dang)\nIf Gucci Mane just bought it, why the fuck he paint it darker? (Huh)\nThat shit was already hard, now he made it harder\nCali kush, just touched down, nigga, and this pack a lil' darker (Cali)\nDog food bricks and cocaina them, now they look darker (Woo)\nDark skin brick, I'm touching it and with it, then whipping away from the water (Skrr)\n\nThe tints on my shit, they look darker (Skrrt)\nPourin' up drank, nigga, my shit darker (Leanin', lean, lean, lean)\nThe kush came in, this time look darker (Woo, it do)\nI'm whippin' up a brick and the work look darker (Woo, skrr, skrr, skrr)\nKush came in, this time look darker (It do)\nPourin' up drank, nigga, my shit darker (We leanin')\nThe work came in, this time look darker (It do)\nAnd the tints on my shit, they look darker (Squad)\nI just bought six pints, they dark as fuck (Leanin')\nBitch, I'm with the Dart Gang, don't think so, we dart you up (Dart Gang)\nBitch, I'm with the art gang, don't think so, we paint you up (Bang, bang)\nThem niggas ain't with us (Nah), them niggas lame as fuck (Yeah)\nBitch, we the Black Disciples, so our blood a lil' darker (Odee)\nI'm rollin' in that Beamer (Skrrt, skrrt), big Guwop in his Charger (Guwop)\nAnd we racin' down your block like we ain't ride Forgiatos (Skrrt, skrrt)\nDisrespect So Icey Brick Squad, we gon' drop you (Squad, squad)\nBeat the lil' nigga ass like his father (Bang, bang, bang, bang)\nOn that Glo Boy shit, you ain't with it, we pop ya (Huh)\nThese lil' bitches on my dick 'cause my money got larger (Sosa baby)\nI'm smoking on this Keisha, getting head from Ms. Parker 'cause the... (Top, thot)\n\nThe tints on my shit, they look darker (It's Gucci)\nPourin' up drank, nigga, my shit darker (Leanin')\nThe kush came in, this time look darker (Woo)\nI'm whippin' up a brick and the work look darker (Woo)\nKush came in, this time look darker (Huh)\nPourin' up drank, nigga, my shit darker (Wasted)\nThe work came in, this time look darker (Skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr)\nAnd the tints on my shit, they look darker\n\nGo, go, go\nIt's Guwop, nigga\nTurn up\nDark\nEverything dark this summer, nigga\nYeah, you see me in the dark, too, fuck nigga\nYeah\nIt's Gucci, Guwop"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsWhen I Was Water Wippin Lyrics\nI talk so much shit I wake a dead man up\nAnd I'm the meth man, you better call Redman up\nI'm by myself man, and yes I ran my bread back up\nYou'll have better luck tryna rob a Brinks bank truck\nEight ounces and a Crush soda\nLast month I damn near smoked a Range Rover\nI buy a pint, crack the seal, and put a straw in it\nI'm drinking raw out the jar, caviar sipping\nI might need a new prescription\nThese young hoes fucking senior citizens\nDad, your little sister is granddaddy mistress, sad\nSecretary sucking politicians, you mad\nYou know that Mr. cheating on his Mrs\nRemember when I could just take a bitch to Wendy's\nBut now these hoes say they wanna go to Sicily\nBut bitch you must be silly, wanna go to Piccadilly\nCause I really feel you fake as hell, like Milli Vanilli\n\nThese hoes, must of these niggas go broke for these hoes\nBig bad bully but he beat for these hoes\nMarried thirty years but he sleep with these hoes\nSpending all this money, going out to eat\nM.O.B. means money over bitches\nThese niggas say they real, but they just a bunch of bitches\nFuck the bedroom, point me to the kitchen\nBaby girl, where you was when I was water wippin'\nWhen I was water wippin', when I was water wippin'\nBaby girl, where you was when I was water wippin'\nWhen I was water wippin', when I was water wippin'\nFuck the bedroom, point me to the kitchen\nYou might also like\nFuck the bedroom, point me to the kitchen\nSo many chickens in my kitchen got my palms itching\nYou sucking a rich nigga dick, you in a good position\nYou say your baby daddy broke? Bitch you really tripping\nWhat's wrong with you, what kind of life you living?\nYou wanna ball, hit the mall, or just eat Church's Chicken\nGucci be really pimping, I need just thirty minutes\nAnd if you cool baby we could fuck every Wednesday\nBut you must pay attention, baby you got to listen\nThe first rule, that you cannot have hoes in my business\nYou know I ball relentless, pull up in Benz and Bentley's\nAnd I don't wanna meet your daddy, I ain't fucking friendly\nI had three-hundred-fifty-thousand, I was only twenty\nYour baby daddy broke, I bury his ass in fucking twenties\nYeah I'm a fat nigga, but all I ride is fucking skinny's\nAnd I don't wanna fuck that bitch cause she too fucking skinny\n\nThese hoes, must of these niggas go broke for these hoes\nBig bad bully but he beat for these hoes\nMarried thirty years but he sleep with these hoes\nSpending all this money, going out to eat\nM.O.B. means money over bitches\nThese niggas say they real, but they just a bunch of bitches\nFuck the bedroom, point me to the kitchen\nBaby girl, where you was when I was water wippin'\nWhen I was water wippin', when I was water wippin'\nBaby girl, where you was when I was water wippin'\nWhen I was water wippin', when I was water wippin'\nFuck the bedroom, point me to the kitchen"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsHell Yes Lyrics\n(Da Honorable C.N.O.T.E)\nR.I.P. To Pimp\nAnd O.D.B\n\nGetting head from a smart bitch\nI\u2019m pourin' up dark shit\nAnd I might just have a change of heart\nBetter play your part, bitch\nTryna get too smart, bitch\nI might just have a change of heart\nGot a six-car garage, bitch\nBut I don\u2019t need you to drive shit\n\u2018Cause I done had a change of heart\nWoke up in a mansion, grew up in apartments\nAnd I\u2019m the nigga that broke her heart\nGot a car don\u2019t need no keys, baby\nAutomatic starter, my finger, baby\nPoint a finger, start fightin' like Springer\n\u2018Cause Gucci Mane ain\u2019t no average nigga\nGot a girl, don\u2019t need no weed, baby\nYou my dope, I'm your fiend, baby\nLike Billy Dee, get in my ride\nAnd girl, get out my dreams, baby\nWork on your footwork like Hakeem, baby\nAll this green between me and you, lady\nPut half on a baby with my homeboy\n\u2018Cause every time I ain\u2019t tryna have no baby\nSmoking on kush got my eyes real lazy\nYou can ride me, baby, then drive me crazy\nRolling up half a pound, no shirt \u2018cause girls around\nAll this money on me, girl, I\u2019ll treat you special\nLet me be the manager, girl, I can help you\nLet me be the treasurer, get you a bezel\nAnd you can be my trafficker, send you wherever, baby\nYou might also like\nLike Pun and Joe, I don\u2019t wanna be a player no more\nZone 6, I can\u2019t be your mayor no more\nTook all my jewelry, all my money, threw it out the door\nBrick Squad goin\u2019 broke? Nigga that\u2019s a \u201chell no\u201d\nAm I fresh nigga? Yes, yes\nAnd my bitch dressed nigga, yes, yes\nDress so fresh I impress myself\nAnd I\u2019m smoking on a pound of the realest\nYes or no, am I over dressed?\nAsked for a pick up, said \u201chell yes\u201d\nAsked for the dick I said \u201chell yes\u201d\n\u201cDo you wanna fuck me?\u201d\nShe said \u201chell yes\u201d\n\nBaby, I\u2019mma go out my way just to please you\nPlease don\u2019t leave me now, girl, \u2018cause I need you\nI\u2019ll cut these hoes off right now, I really need to\nAnd I don\u2019t even know why, girl, but I believe in you\nYou\u2019ve been stuck on my mind since you laid eyes on me\nAnd I don\u2019t like your hatin\u2019-ass friend because she lied on me\nAnd I just touched down, I made my girl so proud\nI know her inside out, I know her upside down\nAnd plus that girl stay down through all my ups and downs\nEven the thought of losing her\u2026\nSome niggas might say no to drugs\nAll my crew say \u201chell yeah\u201d\nWe don\u2019t go get one pair, we go get twelve pair\nAll my niggas got brick fair, all my niggas got brick fair\nAt the Falcons game, and your bitch there\nI was worth ten mill\u2019 when Vick was here\nAnd the same \u2018hood you can\u2019t come to\nThat\u2019s the one, my mama pay rent there\nSpin the globe, every point i\u2019ve been there\nI went platinum in Australia\n\nLike Pun and Joe, I don\u2019t wanna be a player no more\nZone 6, I can\u2019t be your mayor no more\nTook all my jewelry, all my money, threw it out the door\nBrick Squad goin\u2019 broke? Nigga that\u2019s a \u201chell no\u201d\nAm I fresh nigga? Yes, yes\nAnd my bitch dressed nigga, yes, yes\nDress so fresh I impress myself\nAnd I\u2019m smoking on a pound of the realest\nYes or no, am I over dressed?\nAsked for a pick up, said \u201chell yes\u201d\nAsked for the dick I said \u201chell yes\u201d\n\u201cDo you wanna fuck me?\u201d\nShe said \u201chell yes\u201d"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsStunting Ain\u2019t Nuthin Lyrics\nYeah, you dig? (Yeah)\nUncle Jxm (It's Dolph)\nAyy (Hahaha, it's just a whole lotta money)\n\nNigga, please\nYou ain't got as much guap as me (Uh)\nYou don't wanna go dollar for dollar (Ball)\nYou don't wanna go bottle for bottle (You don't wan' do it)\nYou don't wanna go bitch for bitch (Huh?)\n'Cause all I ever fuck with is models (Yeah)\nI'm a motherfuckin' player, my nigga (Player)\nIf she bad, I'ma slay her, my nigga, yeah (Push it, push it)\nStuntin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nPimpin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nBallin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nPoppin' bottles, that ain't nothing to me (That ain't nothin')\nFlyin' foreign cars, that ain't nothin' to me\nIt ain't nothin' to me (I'm stuntin', yeah)\nStuntin' ain't nothin' to me (Uncle Jxmmi)\nLook at this shit, it ain't nothin' to me (Woo, ayy)\n\nYou don't even know what I'ma do\nWhen I'm in the zoo lookin' at the zebras (Ayy)\nAll these hoes, they some fuckin' cheetahs (Ayy)\nUh, they some fuckin' cheetahs (Ayy)\nThrowed off, nigga, on the reefer\nI've been drinkin', drinkin', drinkin', drinkin', drinkin' (Henny)\nHennessy goin' all through my system\nDon't let your bitch be a victim (Nigga)\nThese niggas lookin' sad (Hey)\nI'm running 'round with bags (Rich nigga)\nI'm into popping tags (What?)\nI don't even got your brand (What?)\nMoney talk for me\nI'ma do the money walk down the street\nI'ma do the money walk down Hollywood\nNeed my name on Hollywood, nigga (Uncle Jxmmi)\nYour pockets looking brittle (What?)\nYou a rat, Stuart Little (Get away from me, nigga)\nTen-thousand-dollar outfit\nShe can tell I'm a rich nigga (Ball)\nCame out my mama like a boss\nGot these hoes singin', Diana Ross (Huh?)\nMakin' big moves constantly\nEA need to sponsor me (2K)\nSwagged up, can't take it off of me\nEarDrummers, we a damn monopoly (What?)\nI remember I ain't have a pot to pee (Ugh)\nNowadays, I'm everywhere the guala be (Yeah)\nWant a follow? Bitch, you gotta swallow me (Swallow)\nI ain't trickin', bitch, it ain't Halloween (Nah)\nWe can't kick it, bitch, ain't no soccer team\nI don't wanna talk, I ain't Socrates (Trippin')\nYou might also like\nNigga, please\nYou ain't got as much guap as me (Uh)\nYou don't wanna go dollar for dollar (Ball)\nYou don't wanna go bottle for bottle (You don't wan' do it)\nYou don't wanna go bitch for bitch (Huh?)\n'Cause all I ever fuck with is models (Yeah)\nI'm a motherfuckin' player, my nigga (Player)\nIf she bad, I'ma slay her, my nigga, yeah (Push it, push it)\nStuntin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nPimpin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nBallin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nPoppin' bottles, that ain't nothing to me (That ain't nothin')\nFlyin' foreign cars, that ain't nothin' to me\nIt ain't nothin' to me (I'm stuntin')\nStuntin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nLook at this shit, it ain't nothin' to me (Woo)\n\nStuntin' ain't really nothin' to Wop\nLike a jack in the box, I hop out the drop\nDon't leave it to Beaver, just leave it to me\nGucci Mane makin' two million a week (Woo)\nGucci earrings two hundred a pop (Brr)\nI cop when I shop, I don't know how to lease (No)\nGrindin' like I don't even know how to sleep (Go)\nYou remind me of my Bentley GT (Hah)\nOn Magic on Monday, I throw up the money\nI'm a man crush every day of the week\nI'ma ball hard like it's Super Bowl Sunday (Wow)\nA fool with the chewin', she chewin' the D (Chew)\nWhat in the hell is she doing to me? (Woo)\nSWV got me weak in the knees\nGive her the trophy, the throat of the week\nGucci the G.O.A.T., got my foot on they throat\nAnd my feet on the wood like I play in the league\nCriss-crossing the country like crossin' the street\nAnd I feel like the Pope, all these crosses on me (Brr)\nIf you still sellin' dope, then I'm givin' you hope (Skrrt)\n'Cause ain't none of them gettin' more money than me (No)\nI'ma keep givin' them something to see (Hah)\nHonestly, none of them fuckin' with me (It's Gucci)\nNigga, please\nYou ain't got as much guap as me (Uh)\nYou don't wanna go dollar for dollar (Ball)\nYou don't wanna go bottle for bottle (You don't wan' do it)\nYou don't wanna go bitch for bitch (Huh?)\n'Cause all I ever fuck with is models (Yeah)\nI'm a motherfuckin' player, my nigga (Player)\nIf she bad, I'ma slay her, my nigga, yeah (Push it, push it)\nStuntin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nPimpin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nBallin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nPoppin' bottles, that ain't nothing to me (That ain't nothin')\nFlyin' foreign cars, that ain't nothin' to me (Paper Route Business)\nIt ain't nothin' to me (I'm stuntin')\nStuntin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin', ayy, ayy)\nLook at this shit, it ain't nothin' to me (Woo, uh-huh)\n\nNah, that ain't nothin' to me (Nah)\nBoy, I get money in my sleep (Yeah)\nBuy a new car every week (What?)\nGet a new bitch every day, ayy\nFuck what you heard (Yeah), fuck what you say (Fuck it)\nSend them hitters where you stay (Hah)\nYou don't wanna go shooter for shooter (You don't wanna do it)\nYou don't wanna go million for million (You don't wanna do it)\nYou don't wanna go bitch for bitch\nI got bitches in Hawaii (Yeah)\nI got bitches down in Houston\nSome millionaires and some boostin' (Uh, yeah)\nMight call your bitch to make a movie (Ayy, come here)\nAnd you know it's X-rated (It's Dolph)\nLike you know my weed strong (Yeah)\nAnd the Sprite I'm drinkin' medicated (Raw)\nBreak out the dice, let's shoot (Let's shoot)\nI'm selfish, I only buy coupes (Coupes)\nTold the bitch to bring one friend\nHardheaded-ass bitch brought two\nLooked one of 'em in the eye, said, \"I already fucked you, why she brought you?\" (Hah)\nI'm a player, these bitches, they love me (They love me)\nIn the club passin' out bubbly (Here, take that)\nBitch, I'm the shit like Ruffin (David)\nCan't a nigga tell me nothin' (It's Dolph)\nI'm out in Hollywood druggin' (Druggin')\nYoung nigga paid and thuggin' (Yeah)\nDolce Gabbana tuxedo (Hah)\nTrap nigga like Nino (Brown)\nJust had a bad bitch trio\nOne Mexican and one Creole (Hah)\nNigga, please\nYou ain't got as much guap as me (Uh)\nYou don't wanna go dollar for dollar (Ball)\nYou don't wanna go bottle for bottle (You don't wan' do it)\nYou don't wanna go bitch for bitch (Huh?)\n'Cause all I ever fuck with is models (Yeah)\nI'm a motherfuckin' player, my nigga (Player)\nIf she bad, I'ma slay her, my nigga, yeah (Push it, push it)\nStuntin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nPimpin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nBallin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nPoppin' bottles, that ain't nothing to me (That ain't nothin')\nFlyin' foreign cars, that ain't nothin' to me\nIt ain't nothin' to me (I'm stuntin')\nStuntin' ain't nothin' to me (Ain't nothin')\nLook at this shit, it ain't nothin' to me (Woo)"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsUse Me Lyrics\nWho me? Ain't\u2019 shit\u2026\nSittin\u2019 court-side at All-Star\nAnd this? Givenchy\nMy shirt covered in all stars\nAnd y\u2019all wasn\u2019t wearing gold watches\n\u2018Til you seen us wearing gold watches\nAnd you may have a hit bitch\nBut this one out the ball park\nAnd oh! lawnmower, just for the snake boys\nShoot your ass into pieces, man\nAnd deliver it to your front door\nOh! Encore, they want more, they\u2019re fans now\nGot your girl ass clapping, hands down\nDon\u2019t approach me with your hands out\nSittin\u2019 down I still stand out\nTall nigga with jewelry on\nLike Christmas lights on a damn house\nIt\u2019s me, and I\u2019m cool with it\nYou don\u2019t know what to do with yourself\nWhen I do it, I\u2019m doing it fresh\nBorn to do it, so I do it to death\nCalm in the steps, walking my dawgs\nWe don\u2019t get along, I\u2019m tellin\u2019 \u2018em fetch\nHit \u2018em like \u201cPA!\u201d Hit \u2018em like \u201cPA!\u201d\nShoot up the spot and I\u2019m leavin\u2019 like \u201cAh!\u201d\nOkay, you know I started from scratch\nI got to the strip club just to relax\nI get a flat tire, I buy a new car\nYou know what time it is, check the Rolex\nYou might also like\nIf you keep whining, baby, you gon\u2019 lose me\nBetter choose me, baby, come choose me\nSo fine that I let the girl use me\nBut I don\u2019t ever get used up, usually (turn up, turn up)\nBaby use, me \u2013 baby, use me\nBaby use, me \u2013 baby, you can use me\nBaby use, me \u2013 you can use me\nBut I don\u2019t ever get used up, usually\n\u2026makin\u2019 no noise\nThat nigga ain\u2019t makin\u2019 no noise (nah, nah)\n\u2026makin\u2019 no noise\nNo niggas ain\u2019t makin\u2019 no noise (shut up)\n\u2026makin\u2019 no noise\nThem niggas ain\u2019t makin\u2019 no noise (nah, nah)\n\u2026makin\u2019 no noise\nThat nigga ain\u2019t makin\u2019 no noise (shut up)\n\nIf you\u2019re an ugly ho, I can\u2019t leave with ya\nIf you\u2019re a broke nigga, can\u2019t smoke weed with ya\nIf you ain\u2019t a boss then I can\u2019t sip lean with ya\nI\u2019m not a rapper, bitch, I\u2019m a mob figure\n4-58, it\u2019s a centrepiece\nThese ho niggas ain\u2019t seen half a million\nGot a pimp cup, I\u2019m in the strip club\nAnd the difference is these hoes ask for me\nLaFlare, nigga, I\u2019m rare, nigga\nCaveman Shit Drag Her By Her Hair Nigga\nYou a bear nigga? Well I\u2019m a bear killer\nYou a fuck nigga, I don\u2019t fuck with ya\n2 Chainz, nigga, my cuh-cuh\nAll my cousins sell drugs\nMy brother sent a pack, I fell in love\nAnd told everyone I know I sell bud\nAll I rock is designer clothes\nAll I take is designer drugs\nSo geeked up couldn\u2019t find the club\nWoke up on the beach with a bag of bud (damn)\n2 Chainz, two times, got major money\nMore money than a label tryna sign a thug\nAnd ya CEO say he wanna sign with me\n\u2018Cause the artists you\u2019ve got ain\u2019t hot enough\u2026\n\nIf you keep whining, baby, you gon\u2019 lose me\nBetter choose me, baby, come choose me\nSo fine that I let the girl use me\nBut I don\u2019t ever get used up, usually (turn up, turn up)\nBaby use, me \u2013 baby, use me\nBaby use, me \u2013 baby, you can use me\nBaby use, me \u2013 you can use me\nBut I don\u2019t ever get used up, usually\n\u2026makin\u2019 no noise\nThat nigga ain\u2019t makin\u2019 no noise (nah, nah)\n\u2026makin\u2019 no noise\nNo niggas ain\u2019t makin\u2019 no noise (shut up)\n\u2026makin\u2019 no noise\nThem niggas ain\u2019t makin\u2019 no noise (nah, nah)\n\u2026makin\u2019 no noise\nThat nigga ain\u2019t makin\u2019 no noise (shut up)"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsCoca Coca (Mi Casa Su Casa) Lyrics\nCoca, coca, Coca-Cola, yayo bought me everything\nYola, yola, baking soda, cocaine is my girlfriend\nBoil-a, boil-a, boiling water, damn I got a forced game\nSnort-a, stort-a, make an offer, no prob', I could cook it for ya\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nRetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nDetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\n\nMi casa su casa partna, mi casa so full of rastas\nMore ganja than reefer farmers, you couldn't see me with binoculars\nWhite girl with me, Cindy Lauper, multi deep like Frank Sinatra\nGave ten birds to Waka Flocka, told him drop 'em, Moreland Plaza\nFlow sick like the morning after, try me then your skull get fractured\nRansom your little handsome son, so sad that your first daughter captured\nGucci hot as boiling water, my pack just came cross the border\nYour girlfriend's a major snorter but that bitch ain't worth a quarter\nDon't give that another thought-a, if you serve me then get shot up\nOunce, a half, a eighth, a quarter, send my goons to do the slaughter\nHustle hard, got from my father, take no shit, got from my mother\nNever snitched and never will, I put that on my baby brother\n\nCoca, coca, Coca-Cola, yayo bought me everything\nYola, yola, baking soda, cocaine is my girlfriend\nBoil-a, boil-a, boiling water, damn I got a forced game\nSnort-a, stort-a, make an offer, no prob', I could cook it for ya\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nRetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nDetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\nYou might also like\nOnly one dude and I'ma smoke my reefer\nCruise through the city in my new two-seater\nStay lowkey, get dough with my people\nMaybe try to find me a blow a little cheaper\nOnly one dude and I'ma ride around town\nWork got low, bitch dropped a few pounds\nCount a few checks, deal 'em out\nShoot a little dice, blow a little loud\nSell a little powder, make a few thou'\nTurn them into millions standing tall as Yao\nMean mug every nigga on my team\nNigga say anything, folk will hit him in his mouth\nBack in the day, they said I wouldn't be shit\nTell them fuck niggas, \"Nigga, look at me now!\"\nMoney on my dick, they worse than they bitch\nIt don\u2019t make no sense, we just laugh at them clowns\nPull up to the club, everybody like, \"Wow!\"\nWatch cost a car, car cost a house\nCatch me in the club, I'm stunting on the couch\nBalling like a baller, me and Gucci ballin' out\nShawty got it for the low, who said it was a drought?\nSwag run so hard, man these hoes like (Ow!)\nWell known in the North, raised in the South\nConnected out West, get 'em in, get 'em out\nCoca, coca, Coca-Cola, yayo bought me everything\nYola, yola, baking soda, cocaine is my girlfriend\nBoil-a, boil-a, boiling water, damn I got a forced game\nSnort-a, stort-a, make an offer, no prob', I could cook it for ya\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nRetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nDetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\n\nIn the kitchen with Patrick Swayze, me and the yay is dirty dancing\nDrop a gold deuce and it white just like some Louie glasses\nStupid Brick Squad chickens in, stankin' through the plastic\nGettin \u2018em in and gettin\u2019 em gone; definition of a trapper\nI'm the hottest thing walkin' 'round in East Atlanta\nSo I'm like a baby, shittin' like a damn Pamper\nOoh, they hate my swag cause these bars is Alaska\nHip-hop police got me workin' under the scanner\nCoca-Cola, where's the water? Watch this dough, I serve this order\nOne on the window cause the police just might smell this odor\nBarber shops and beauty parlors just to cover dirty dollars\nWhite girl was super dirty so I put her in the shower\n\nCoca, coca, coca cola, yayo bought me everythang\nYola, yola, baking soda, cocaine is my girlfriend\nBoila, boila, boiling water, damn I gotta forced game\nSnorta, storta make an offer; no prob I could cook it for ya\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nRetail shops and beauty parlors to \"cover up these dirty dollars\"\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nDetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\nSoo Woo! To the B gang, it\u2019s a G thang, see me\nI\u2019m eyeballin' shorty, Gucci got the work and Flocka got the 40\nWork the wheels and hold the gun\nSmoke out my pistol, I wish you\u2019d run\nNigga win some like, \"Which one?\nHundred round chopper or the handgun?\"\nHeard I ain\u2019t never lost none, got nicks and dimes, you want some?\nI\u2019m a legend in the hood like Big Pun\nGot bales of the mid you want some? I bought them\nWaka Flocka, Flocka Waka, midgrade bought me everything\nI\u2019m gutter, gutter, gutter, gutter, I put that shit on Gucci Mane\nBrick Squad is what the fuck I claim (Brick Squad)\nGod y'all niggas off the chain (Loony)\nLookin' like he want my chain, I smoke him like some Mary Jane\n(Bow, bow, bow, bow!) And shorty that shit real talk\n(Bow, bow, bow, bow!) And shorty that shit real talk\n\nCoca, coca, coca cola, yayo bought me everythang\nYola, yola, baking soda, cocaine is my girlfriend\nBoila, boila, boiling water, damn I gotta forced game\nSnorta, storta make an offer; no prob I could cook it for ya\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nRetail shops and beauty parlors to \"cover up these dirty dollars\"\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nDetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\n\nShawty Lo, call me Escobar\nThey try to retired me like the great Brett Favre\nStill got no wife but the white be my girlfriend\nEven Nicki fuckin' with my girlfriend\nYeah, we share that bitch\nGot Waka Flocka, Gucci, Rocko in that bitch\nStill in the kitchen, flickin' the wrist\nAnd I'm still on the highway takin' a risk\nBack and forth from the 1 and the 6\nRidin' I-20 with a bunch of them bricks\nAyy, from the 1 and the 6\nRidin' I-20, all white bricks\n\nCoca, coca, coca cola, yayo bought me everythang\nYola, yola, baking soda, cocaine is my girlfriend\nBoila, boila, boiling water, damn I gotta forced game\nSnorta, storta make an offer; no prob I could cook it for ya\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nRetail shops and beauty parlors to \"cover up these dirty dollars\"\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nDetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\n\nFeds coming after us, niggas talkin' 'bout jackin' us\nMarried to that white girl so bitch, I ain\u2019t no bachelor\nBrick Squad, Re-Up Gang, motherfuckin' yayo club\nLookin for another one cause I ran off on my last plug\nOff white Jag, white truck, white Lambo\nAll white Porsche four door going HAM ho\nYou know who I am ho (Yo Gotti!) you say I robbed your brother\nI don\u2019t give a damn though; he must've had the yams low\nHe must've had them grams off, weighing what I paid for\nToo many of them bands, now he laying on his man's floor\nI\u2019m Yo Gotti nigga, and I\u2019m from North Memphis\nIn East Atlanta Zone 6 and I got the North with me\n\nCoca, coca, Coca-Cola, yayo bought me everything\nYola, yola, baking soda, cocaine is my girlfriend\nBoil-a, boil-a, boiling water, damn I got a forced game\nSnort-a, stort-a, make an offer, no prob', I could cook it for ya\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nRetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nDetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\n\nI got that hard Gucc', you know these bitches easy\nI got that cold flu, I got that itchy sneezy\nYou in that Mitsubishi, I'm in that Bentley GT\nI'm takin' trips with Papi (You walkie-talkie copy)\nI got them Pookie fiends, might rock some Juicy jeans\nI mean some Juicy sweats; maybe some blue Giuseppes\nI play foul, no free-throw\nBitch I ball, no free show, deadass, no peep-show\nBought our own condo, water-front condo\nDaughter, son dundo; watchin' Telemundo\nFlyer than a rocket, money in my polly-pocket\nWhat you coppin'? Keep that work inside my Pippi Longstocking, bitch\n\nCoca, coca, Coca-Cola, yayo bought me everything\nYola, yola, baking soda, cocaine is my girlfriend\nBoil-a, boil-a, boiling water, damn I got a forced game\nSnort-a, stort-a, make an offer, no prob', I could cook it for ya\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nRetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars\nMi casa su casa partna, my partnas get stupid guallas\nDetail shops and beauty parlors to cover up these dirty dollars"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsTone It Down Lyrics\nHuh, it's Gucci\nDroptop (Right now)\nWizop\nHuh, Wop (Hitmaka)\nGo\n\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Huh)\nVVS the wrist (Wrist)\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Huh)\nMight steal your bitch (Bitch)\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Yeah, yeah, huh)\nVVS the wrist (Wrist)\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Huh)\nMight steal your bitch\n\nTone that shit down (Ooh, yeah)\nYou ain't never ball like this\nTone that shit down (Oh, why?)\nTell me who can ball like this\nTone that shit down\nWho you know can ball like this?\nTone that shit down (Huh, hol' up, it's Gucci)\nTell me who can ball like this\nYou might also like\nHuh, pull up, froze up with the door up\nChopper in the club, I don't care who show up\nWatch lookin' like a glow up, when I throw up (Burr)\nEastside Bouldercrest Road where I growed up\nHold up, lil' homie, tone it down\n\u2018Cause the jewelry that you rockin\u2019 is for kids, I\u2019m a grown-up (Huh?)\nSat courtside right next to the owner\nLookin' so good, make his wife pick her phone up (Wow)\nBig gold boulders in my Rollie\nLook like Fred Flintstone when he pick a stone up (Ring)\nIf everybody got a watch like that\nThen why would I want that watch? I\u2019m a loner (Yeah)\nDamn near had a temper tantrum\n'Cause he got that car \u2018fore I got it, now I really don\u2019t wanna\nYou ain't seen a nigga glow up like this\nNot a nigga that was trappin\u2019 on a corner (It's Gucci! Yeah)\n\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Huh)\nVVS the wrist (VVS the wrist)\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Huh)\nMight steal your bitch (Might steal your bitch)\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Yeah, yeah, huh)\nVVS the wrist (VVS the wrist)\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Huh, yeah)\nMight steal your bitch (Huh, go)\nTone that shit down (Ooh, yeah)\nYou ain't never ball like this\nTone that shit down (Oh, why?)\nTell me who can ball like this\nTone that shit down\nWho you know can ball like this?\nTone that shit down\nTell me who can ball like this (Huh, go)\n\nGucci Mane and CB, jewelry lookin' 3D\nTryna be like me ain\u2019t easy (Wow)\nNiggas hate me, women wanna date me\n\u2018Cause I got on all these VVS pieces (Yeah)\nIn that great thing\n2018 Rolls-Royce truck, no reason (Huh)\nWater on my timepiece wetter than a Fiji\nParked front of the St. Regis (Burr)\nArtists wanna meet me\nBallin\u2019 like an athlete, but I ball all four seasons (Ooh)\nDiamonds dancin' just like Breezy (Diamonds)\nTake it easy breezy, go easy (Huh)\nBig stones in all my pieces (Huh)\nGucci Mane stunt like Meechie (Meechie)\nJewelry so cold, I\u2019m sneezin\u2019 (Achoo!)\nPull up South Beach, no ceiling\nTone that shit down (Ooh, yeah)\nYou ain't never ball like this\nTone that shit down (Oh, why?)\nTell me who can ball like this\nTone that shit down\nWho you know can ball like this?\nTone that shit down\nTell me who can ball like this\n\nYeah, four-four tippin\u2019, I be on a hunnid spokes\nFire weed, hit it, have a nigga seeing ghosts\nTell me what it do 'cause I\u2019m tryna get to know you\nChampagne, take a shot, won\u2019t have a hangover (Yeah)\n\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Huh)\nVVS the wrist (VVS the wrist)\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Huh)\nMight steal your bitch (Might steal your bitch)\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Yeah, yeah, huh)\nVVS the wrist (VVS the wrist)\nWop, wop, wop, wop (Huh, yeah)\nMight steal your bitch\n\nTone that shit down (Ooh, yeah)\nYou ain't never ball like this\nTone that shit down (Oh, why?)\nTell me who can ball like this\nTone that shit down\nWho you know can ball like this?\nTone that shit down\nTell me who can ball like this\n\nTone that shit down (Down)\nTone that shit down (Down)\nTone that shit down (Down)\nWho you know can ball like this?\nTone that shit down (Down)\nTell me who can ball like this"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsShooter Lyrics\nIts some shooters in this house, its some shooters in this house\nThis a whole bunch, a whole bunch of shooters in this house\nIts some shooters in this house, its some shooters in this house\nIf you wanna go to war, fuck it, nigga let's shoot it out\n\nWalk up from my spot, sit down, have a seat\nI just been in 5 shoot outs last week\nHe bought the run division, plus he moving in the kitchen\nNobody make a move, nigga, when Scooter handling business\nReaching in his pocket, Gucci slap him with the pistol-\n\nGet your bitch ass down nigga, motherfucking move nigga\nHood rich!\n\nBrick strapped to your sister I'm a send her in a rental\nI don't give a damn about her, but I'll make millions with the tender\nI got money in the fender, tryna buy my kids Christmas\nMe and Scooter ain't twins, but we got twin choppers\nGot Waka Flocka Flame, a nigga hit em with the yapa\nI'm a street nigga, never be a partner to a copper (No)\n\nWhat the fuck going on nigga?\nWho the fuck let these police ass nigga in here?\nI don't know\nFuck out the spot nigga\nSnitching ass niggas got caught with a brick\nSame day call my phone for a thirty-six\nI can see with one eye open like Slick Rick\nFuck the police that's why I rap about them bricks (Me too)\nYou might also like\nI ain't Diddy nigga, but these bricks get remixed\nWhen the chopper start spitting, nigga head 'gon get split\nNigga robbed me at the carwash, that was 1996\nEver since the day, them niggas ain't tried me since\n\nGod damn, bruh\nTalkin' 'bout a nigga robbed you in '96\nNo, you geeked up, boy\nHe did\nYou still gotta pay though\nI know\n\nNigga owed me a brick, that was three years ago\nSeen him in the club, nigga, shot him in the throat\nBlack amigo Scooter still rob 'migos\nAnd I still got a lot of shooters on the payroll\n\nHold up Scooter\nI got shooters\nYou got a shooters\nAye man what?\nGet the door man that's Fresh man, you don't see him on the camera?\nI need 'em bruh\nYea, let 'em in\nAye, open the door nigga\nI need 50 of them pretty mids, this nigga at the store\nHe waiting right now, Gucci is it a go?\nI hope it is, 'cause if it is, my shooters, they on go\nShooter on the Scooter, bring them bows\nHe want them right now, he just came from way up the road\nTen millimeter with thirty shots, make your fuckin' head explode\n\nI got a trap house mansion with some hard wood floors\nCan't come in, I got burglar bar doors\nTrap going crazy, but I got it under control\nI just bust 'em open, fix 'em up, and move 'em out the door\nWho this nigga in this Buick, man get Scooter on the phone\nI'm like a NBA coach 'cause I keep shooters at my home\n\nAll I know I never seen his face in my life\nStreet smart so I know this nigga ain't right\nPull up at my spot, cut your car off hit your lights\nBefore you hit the door, you get robbed on sight\n\nIts some shooters in this house, its some shooters in this house\nThis a whole bunch, a whole bunch of shooters in this house\nIts some shooters in this house, its some shooters in this house\nIf you wanna go to war, fuck it, nigga let's shoot it out\nIts some shooters in this house, its some shooters in this house\nThis a whole bunch, a whole bunch of shooters in this house\nIts some shooters in this house, its some shooters in this house\nIf you wanna go to war, fuck it, nigga let's shoot it out"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsBig Booty Lyrics\nJ. White, I need a beat I can go off on, ooh\n\nTell the skinny hoes\u2005to\u2005point me where\u2005the thick hoes at (Go)\nHe want\u2005a flat booty bitch, I'm not with all that (No)\nI got chips for days and I got whips for weeks\nI bring out the fleet and it bring out the freaks (Mwah)\nIt's a block party, they done blocked off half the street (Wow)\nShe's a big booty bitch showing ass and cheeks (Yeah)\nShe's a walking bag of money, she's a masterpiece\nThe way she running game on you, she's an athlete (Go)\nHat trick, gave three hoes three stacks a piece (Go)\nAnd every time I get the head she get that bread from me (Ayy, ayy, ayy, look, it's Gucci)\n\nBig old ass is heavy, shake that shit like jelly\nPut me on your plate and slurp that shit up like spaghetti\nMan, I make this shit look easy, I ain't tryin', I just be me\nI ain't never met a ho I felt like I had to compete with, uh\nThis the type of booty make a nigga drop his bitch, wait\nThis the type of ass when I get home, he washing dishes, uh\nHe wanna ride on a horse, he need to give me the keys to a Porsche\nI told him until you finish your dinner, I cannot let you leave off of the porch\nBoy, let me butter your corn on the cob\nWe give each other more neck than a bob\nHe like to put a little oil on my ass\nBefore he record so I feel like a star, huh\nRollin' like I'm Tina, pussy Aquafina\nMake this booty giggle like you Martin and I'm Gina, hmm\nPut me in designer, uh, let me meet your mama, uh\nIf you got another bitch, don't put me in no drama, ah\nYou might also like\nTell the skinny hoes to point me where the thick hoes at (Go)\nHe want a flat booty bitch, I'm not with all that (No)\nI got chips for days and I got whips for weeks\nI bring out the fleet and it bring out the freaks (Mwah)\nIt's a block party, they done blocked off half the street (Wow)\nShe's a big booty bitch showing ass and cheeks (Yeah)\nShe's a walking bag of money, she's a masterpiece\nThe way she running game on you, she's an athlete (Go)\nHat trick, gave three hoes three stacks a piece (Go)\nAnd every time I get the head she get that bread from me (It's Gucci)\n\nBig booty hoes, ho booty\nBig, big, big booty\nBig, big, big booty"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsIcy Lyrics\nGucci Mane La Flare\nYeah, where yo ice at?\nWhere yo chain and yo rings at?\nWhere yo bling at?\nI'm icy, I'm icy, so icy, so icy\nI'm so icy, I'm icy, so icy, so icy\nAll these girls excited\nOoh, you know they like it\nI'm so icy, so icy\nGirl don't try to fight it\nAll your friends invited (uh, uh-uh, uh, chyeah)\nI'm so icy, so icy (uh, uh, uh-uh, uh, yeah, ayy, ayy, let's go)\n\nGot a house around my neck and my wrist on chill (chill)\nAny given time, 250 in your grill (a quarter million?)\nAll I do is talk shit (ayy)\nYou can even add a couple grand for my outfit\nYeah, you better act like you know man (what?)\nIn my hood they call me Jeezy the Snowman\nYou get it? (get it?) Jeezy the Snowman (chyeah)\nI'm iced out (ayy), plus I got snow, man (ayy)\nLet it marinate, y'all niggas slow man (slow man)\n(Man what the fuck y'all? Dumb ass)\nI used to get nineteen for a beat (chyeah)\nCall me Ginuwine, the same ol' G (ol' G)\nI'm the shit bitch, I need toilet paper (damn)\nAnd some air freshener, nigga, fuck a hater\nThese niggas don't like me (why?)\nI'm with the Gucci Mane and I'm so icy\nYou might also like\nAll these girls excited\nOoh, you know they like it (ooh, you know they like it)\nI'm so icy, so icy (I'm so icy, baby)\nGirl don't try to fight it (don't try to fight it)\nAll your friends invited (all your friends)\nI'm so icy, so icy (I'm so icy, girl you know I'm icy)\n\nShe digging my fit, she think I'm the shit (think I'm the shit)\nIs this the chain on my neck, or the watch in my wrist (the watch in my wrist)\nMaybe the ice in my ear, or the bracelet (my bracelet)\nBut she look like the type that could take a dick (take the dick)\nUh, young Gucci Mane (Gucci Mane)\nDon't kiss me baby, you can kiss my chain (kiss my chain)\nUh, you gotta be a dime piece (dime piece)\nJust to look at the rocks in my time piece (time piece)\nUh, I come through in a drop top Jag (drop top tag)\nOr a old school Chevy with the antique tags ('tique tags)\nMy pockets so heavy that I can't walk steady (walk steady)\nNiggas copping ice we done done it already (oh!)\nGot a gold grill but it's not from Eddie\nI ride big Chevys cause a nigga ain't petty\nI'm icy (so icy, so icy), so motherfuckin' snowed up\nLittle kids wanna be like Gucci when they grow up\nUh, me, Jeezy and Boo\nWe ain't hatin pussy nigga go and do what you do\n'Cause we icy (so icy), so icy (so icy)\nWe icy (so icy), so icy (so icy)\nAll these girls excited\nOoh, you know they like it (ooh, you know they like it)\nI'm so icy, so icy (I'm so icy, baby I'm so icy)\nGirl don't try to fight it (don't you fight it)\nAll your friends invited (all your friends)\nI'm so icy, so icy (I'm so icy, I'm so icy)\n\nYeah, I'm hoppin' out the range wit the seats piped out\nYou can still see my chain even when the lights out (lights out)\n'Cause that's how mobsters do it\nSpit a little game, give 'em that flossin' music\nI'm the man from the C-H-I\nThese lames runnin' 'round thinkin' they so fly\nGot a little buzz but Boo been too high\nI'm pullin' hoes in the club and I don't even try\nI guess when she glance at my wrist, she wanna get my dick\nI tell her holla at Jeezy if you wanna pop Cris\nGet at Gucci Mane cause he on some hood shit\nAnd you know I'm in the cut, grippin' my .45\nLike let a nigga trip, nah we ain't runnin'\nWe just takin all your chicks, buyin' drinks, gettin' blunted\nGroupies, show you how to do this son\nWe throwin' out hundreds while you savin them ones, nigga\nI got so many rocks, in my chain and watch\nI know I'm the shit, my chain hang down to my dick\nI know I'm the bomb, just look at my charm\nI know I'm the shit, my chain hang down to my dick\n\nAll these girls excited\nOoh, you know they like it (oh you know that them girls like it)\nI'm so icy, so icy (I'm so icy, baby)\nGirl don't try to fight it\nAll your friends invited\nI'm so icy, so icy (I'm so icy, baby I'm so icy)\n\nLook at my charm\nMy chain hang down to my dick\nHahahaha"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsWe Ride Lyrics\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride\nEven when it don't go right\nEven when the shit go left\nEven when my arms can't fight, we ride\n(Get somebody that gon' ride for you) Even when I lose my breath\n(Who gon' die for you) Even when I hurt myself\n(Who gon' cry for you) Even if it means my life, we ride\n\nLook I don't trust nobody like I trust  you\nI know you'll never hurt me 'cause it will hurt you\nEverybody turn their back on me but you\nAnd when I did time you was doing time too\nLooking back at it, Hell what we went through\nIt's like I prayed for an angel and he sent you\nThey used to say you was a fool 'cause you loved me\nNow look at them they like damn I wish it was me\nBut tell me can you hold me down in the bad weather?\nCause anyone can hold it down through the fair weather\nThat's why the rock so big 'cause when you wave at 'em\nI want them hoes to run and hide like you sprayed at 'em\nYou might also like\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride\nEven when it don't go right\nEven when the shit go left\nEven when my arms can't fight, we ride\n(Get somebody that gon' ride for you) Even when I lose my breath\n(Who gon' die for you) Even when I hurt myself\n(Who gon' cry for you) Even if it means my life, we ride\n\nIt's me and my ride or die, that's my right hand\nGot me thinking, \"Damn who gon' be my best man?\"\nBuilt a house for 10 mil on your own land\nAnd showed your best friend how to build her own brand\nHave you ever seen a street nigga slow dance\nIn a white tux with a live band playing?\nIt's like the new Gucci talking to the old Gucci\nGotta have 20 M's to see what I'm saying\nWho'd ever think I'd get this far, I was just trappin'\nWho ever thought I'd get this rich when I started rapping?\nThis make a street nigga stand up and start clapping\nI'd never thought I feel this way but then God happened\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride, we ride\nWe ride, we ride\nEven when it don't go right\nEven when the shit go left\nEven when my arms can't fight, we ride\n(Get somebody that gon' ride for you) Even when I lose my breath\n(Who gon' die for you) Even when I hurt myself\n(Who gon' cry for you) Even if it means my life, we rideEmbed"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsIntro (El Chapo) Lyrics\nHe's known as El Chapo or Shorty and he's no doubt the most feared and the most dangerous drug lord in all of Mexico. Police turned up four more bodies, churned in the trunk of a burned-out car near the....\n\nAll we wanna be is El Chapo\nAt least all the street niggas I know\nAll I wanna be is El Chapo\nFully automatic slice your auto\nAll I wanna be is El Chapo\n3 Billion dollars in pesos\nAll I wanna be is El Chapo\nAnd when I meet him, I'ma tell him bravo\n\nI live a life so crazy make me start smokin' newports\nAnd you ain't comin' in, I'ma serve you in the front porch\nMy plug he comin' in, I'm about a scoop him from the airport\nAnd ain't no room for nothin' else but money in my condo\nBallin' like a bitch you think my grandmother Griselda\nThese suckas they can't wait to double cross you like Diego\nI'm whackin' niggas, taxin' niggas similar to Pablo\nI'm big chained touchin' every penny like I'm Castro\nBoss shit mob hits Lucky Luciano\nBricksquad Records like the damn Gambinos\nThe shit that I done did has only been done by Latinos\nDope so good you think it came from El Chapo\nYou might also like\nAll we wanna be is El Chapo\nAt least all the street niggas I know\nAll I wanna be is El Chapo\nFully automatic slice your auto\nAll I wanna be is El Chapo\n3 Billion dollars in pesos\nAll I wanna be is El Chapo\nAnd when I meet him, I'ma tell him bravo\n\nPlane just touch down thanks to Amado\nBest coke in the world going through your nostrils\nPlugs steady send the dope in by the boat load\nSevering niggas heads off like El Loco\nA hundred bricks is nothin' if you Jesus Elizando\nMy big toy Emilio got it in the choke hold\nSpent a half a million last year on Forgiatos\nAnd no I am not a catholic confessin' is a no no\nSo many bricks of brown and white you know we got a snow roll\nCoke so clean every one brick is a combo\nA little handgun in every pocket in my cargo\nAnd it's a stack for a kilo if you get it in the jungle\n\nAll we wanna be is El Chapo\nAt least all the street niggas I know\nAll I wanna be is El Chapo\nFully automatic slice your auto\nAll I wanna be is El Chapo\n3 Billion dollars in pesos\nAll I wanna be is El Chapo\nAnd when I meet him, I'ma tell him bravo"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsBiPolar Lyrics\nAhh, g-got it on Smash\nOG Parker, go\nBipolar (brr), Bipolar (huh), yeah\n\nBipolar with the check (Bipolar)\nI just put somethin' crazy 'round my neck (Bipolar)\nGo crazy with your ex (Bipolar)\nI just might go crazy with my bitch (Bipolar)\nBipolar with the check (Bipolar)\nI just put somethin' crazy 'round my neck (Bipolar, yeah)\nBipolar with my wrist (Bipolar)\nBipolar, man I keep on switchin' whips (Bipolar)\n\nRude bipolar gang, diamond tennis chains on huge (Huge)\nA marijuana war, we'll take your trees like Scrooge (Yeah)\nMy bitch bad and yellow, but my hunnids all blue (Bad)\nI just went bipolar, put my wrist on Tom Cruise\nInsane man, my stash man, it's crazy in the Range\nHe must be bipolar 'cause he can't stay in his lane\nI'm talking to my shrink, and I'm draped in a mink\nShe asked me want I need, I said, \"Bitch I need some' to drink\"\nIce Cream Mane, man I pull up in a tank (Woo)\nI feel like Mamma Mia 'cause I'm whippin' in the sink (Yeah)\nThe coroner, the Huncho, the leader of the game (Yeah)\nBipolar, C-Murder, the Draco with the shank\nYou might also like\nBipolar with the check (Bipolar)\nI just put somethin' crazy 'round my neck (Bipolar)\nGo crazy with your ex (Bipolar)\nI just might go crazy with my bitch (Bipolar)\nBipolar with the check (Bipolar)\nI just put somethin' crazy 'round my neck (Bipolar, yeah)\nBipolar with my wrist (Bipolar)\nBipolar, man I keep on switchin' whips (Bipolar)\n\nSwappin' out the Lamb', think I'm crazy (Skrrt)\nShittin' on these hoes, tried to play me (Ugh)\nBipolar, I been spending cash lately (Cash)\nMake you drown in the sauce, too much gravy\nBall player shit, we get cash in this bitch (Ball)\nMoney stretch too long, from the Nawf to the Six (Ayy)\nBipolar gang 'cause I spazz on that bitch (Gang, gang)\nI fucked her, then get out of my face, that's that bipolar shit (Oh yeah)\nDance on that work, Huncho James Brown\nAll them colors in your stones like a damn clown (Clown)\nScrew that tip on that Uzi, don't make no sound (Shh)\nPew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, man down\nTwo million in cars (Two), I don't know what to drive (No)\nNeck ice polar (Polar), all my hoes be bi (Bi)\nJet fly solo (Solo), like a bird in the sky (Sky)\nTry the gang, we fold ya (Fold ya), extendos and 9s (9s)\nWent bipolar in Chanel, went bipolar on the scale (Scale)\nWent bipolar on the plug, told him, \"Feed me bales\" (Yeah)\nWent bipolar on drugs (Drugs), they be telling me, \"Chill\" (Chill)\nGave my mom her first dub, she thought I was goin' to jail (Mama, Huncho)\nBipolar with the check (Bipolar)\nI just put somethin' crazy 'round my neck (Bipolar)\nGo crazy with your ex (Bipolar)\nI just might go crazy with my bitch (Bipolar)\nBipolar with the check (Bipolar)\nI just put somethin' crazy 'round my neck (Bipolar, yeah)\nBipolar with my wrist (Bipolar)\nBipolar, man I keep on switchin' whips (Bipolar)"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsPablo Lyrics\nJust about anybody who used cocaine\nIn the 90s and 80s was using Pablo Escobar's product\nEscobar was probably the most violent\nThe most ferocious criminal that has ever lived\n\nMoney stacked up like Pablo, peso after peso\nYou don't want to war with Pablo\nThey'll kill you when he say so\nTouch down with it like Pablo\nIn Zone 6, I'm Pablo\nDiamonds on my neck like Pablo\nAnd the feds on my ass like Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Esco\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nYou don't want to go to war with Pablo\n\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo, Esco\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo, Esco\nYou don't want to war with Pablo\nFeds on my ass like Pablo\nTouch down with the dope like Pablo\nIn Zone 6, I'm Pablo\nYou might also like\nStop the track! Salute to El Chapo\n21 gun salute, R.I.P. Griselda Blanco\nPeso, euro, all about dinero\nTailored suit like Pablo, time to sell this yayo\nGuwop, call me Pablo\nBox-load of bricks with a bar code\nI could cook a duece something with a blindfold\nMail your head to your mama with your eyes closed\nPablo life, got them Pablo prices\nAnd I\u2019m kingpin status, so I'm Pablo icy\nAnd the whole crew like it if Pablo like it\nEl Guwop drop trying to outsell Nike\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo, Pablo\nIt's silver or lead yeah, that's my motto\nYoung Scooter, my vato, Ferrari, my auto\nHead honcho, house so big they think I hit the lotto\n\nMoney stacked up like Pablo, peso after peso\nYou don't want to war with Pablo\nThey'll kill you when he say so\nTouch down with it like Pablo\nIn Zone 6, I'm Pablo\nDiamonds on my neck like Pablo\nAnd the feds on my ass like Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Esco\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nYou don't want to go to war with Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo, Esco\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo, Esco\nYou don't want to war with Pablo\nFeds on my ass like Pablo\nTouch down with the dope like Pablo\nIn Zone 6, I'm Pablo\n\nExtendos, cinnamon rolls, Pillsbury big biscuits\n7 .62s, and 5 .56s\nTelling is prohibited, snitches witness\nTurn a blind eye and a deaf ear\nYou probably want to mind your business\nAct like you can't see or hear\nA-tisket, a-tasket\nNow the fuck nigga in the casket\nMy money stretch like elastic\nServing that tragic magic\nThat nasal candy, that nostril dust\nYou don't really want to go to war with us\nAshes to ashes, dust to dust\nBringing in work in U-Haul trucks\nGot more bags than Kris Kringle (Santa)\nPuffing on a spliff of Bullwinkle (spinach)\nManipulate a broad with the lingo (slang)\nShe let me hit it we ain't even have to mingle (game)\nAll up in her panties like a single\nPut it down like I'm Mandingo (beat 'em)\nHaving my chips like Reno (feddy)\nGuns longer than the neck on a flamingo (thumpers)\nIf you're ready already, then you ain't gotta get ready\nI'm out here selling that Becky, bout my chalupa, my fetti\nHoping the law don't catch me grittin' out here pushing that white\nServing fiends, smoking out of homemade pipes\nI'm a thug from the mud, I've got the block in my blood\nI'll take the top off the bottle and drink up all of the suds\nDown and dirty bout mine, I'll put some cheese on your thoughts\nSome bread on your head, no matter the cost, my...\nMoney stacked up like Pablo, peso after peso\nYou don't want to war with Pablo\nThey'll kill you when he say so\nTouch down with it like Pablo\nIn Zone 6, I'm Pablo\nDiamonds on my neck like Pablo\nAnd the feds on my ass like Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Esco\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nYou don't want to go to war with Pablo\n\nMy big brother, the dope man\n5 straps like Bruh Man\nIt's Pablo and the pimp man\nTax a bitch like Uncle Sam\nFuck niggas be like \"aw man\"\nCause we young niggas and we getting it\nAnd y'all niggas is jealous\nCause y'all niggas ain't getting shit\nI say yes, nigga, indeed\nI dress better than I read\nShine gold teeth when I chief\nPick your eyes up when I speak\nGot that big ranch, real horses\nY'all niggas blue cheese\nOnly talk big money, with real niggas\nY'all niggas too cheap, Pablo!\n\nMoney stacked up like Pablo, peso after peso\nYou don't want to war with Pablo\nThey'll kill you when he say so\nTouch down with it like Pablo\nIn Zone 6, I'm Pablo\nDiamonds on my neck like Pablo\nAnd the feds on my ass like Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nPablo, Esco\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo\nYou don't want to go to war with Pablo\n\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo, Esco\nPablo, Pablo, Pablo, Esco\nYou don't want to war with Pablo\nFeds on my ass like Pablo\nTouch down with the dope like Pablo\nIn Zone 6, I'm Pablo\n\nEscobar did not fear Colombian authorities\nBut he did fear American justice, and American prisons\nWhen he could not get the law changed\nTo keep him from being brought to trial in the U.S\nHe tried to kill the lawmakers"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easSlumber Party Lyrics\nBanana boat full of blow\nBanana clip to cut ya throat\nBanana dro, come take a smoke\nBanana diamonds, yellow stone\nHeavy snow, that berry blow\nThat cherry coke got stupid dough\nPlenty mo', you think I booked a\nHundred, shows I'm selling dope\nI'm into wishin rolling kushin\nSippin lean and burnin piff\nYou gotta fifth, I gotta pint\nYou took a shot, I took a sip\nI plead the 5th, ain't saying shit\nGo get my lawyer, get him quick\nSpent 80 grand to beat a case\nI whipped it like my purple whip\nI call a hit like Sosa did\nThem killas blitz ya house ya monkey\nI got so much jewelry on me\nStill you can't take nothing from me\nHook it up, I cook it up\nAnd get some head while rolling blunts\nWater paint, water stain\nI'm lookin' down, she lookin' up\nBeamer truck, I rim it up\nSpent 80 thou', 400 stones\nShe suck a dick while rollin' blunt\nShe keep the boss man bustin' nuts\nI get it off, she get it up\nMe and her both can't get enough\nWe in the goat, I'm in the ghost\nI'm tryna beat that pussy up\nYou might also like\nWelcome to my private party\nMore hoes than a bachelor party\nSmoking, drinking, freaking\nShit can turn into a slumber party\nYou can't meet my mama, uh-uh\nBut here you go, my number, shawty\nWhen you feeling freaky, mama\nWe can have a slumber party\nA slumber party\nMama, have a slumber party\nYou can't meet my mama, uh-uh\nBut here you go, my number, shawty\nWhen you feeling freaky, mama\nWe can have a slumber party\nWe can have a slumber party\nWe can have a\u2014yeah\n\nHer negligees are Burberry\nHer lingerie game very straight\nHer oral sex is very wet\nMy sex so great she gainin' weight\nI cook a cake, she cook a steak\nWe three estates, you Section 8\nStay out her face, she hardly date\nShe fuckin' Gucci, shawty, damn!\nEveryday's a ballin' day\nJust yesterday we bought a lake\nTomorrow bought us 2 Camaros\n'08 and a '68\nWe trappin' fast with stupid cash\nSo rap on with your stupid ass\nIt's Gucci Mane, no stupid ass\nI keep on making stupid cash\nWelcome to my private party\nMore hoes than a bachelor party\nSmoking, drinking, freaking\nShit can turn into a slumber party\nYou can't meet my mama, uh-uh\nBut here you go, my number, shawty\nWhen you feeling freaky, mama\nWe can have a slumber party\nA slumber party\nMama, have a slumber party\nYou can't meet my mama, uh-uh\nBut here you go, my number, shawty\nWhen you feeling freaky, mama\nWe can have a slumber party\nWe can have a slumber party\nWe can have a\u2014yeah\n\nGot that Super Soaker\nPussy pop like Cola Coca\nPlus it's tighter than a choker\nGot him smilin' like the Joker\nGot that ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne\nLittle Mermaid on my linen\nWhen yo mama sleepin'\nYou can call me and get all up in it\nBank rolls\nGet me all them pretty furs\nCause my pussy game cold\nWhen he hit it he say burr\nHe say b-b-b-b-bur\nI'ma I'ma marry her\nAnd he p-lay with that purr (pearl)\nLike he strummin' his guitar\nThat's me, I am Minaj\nI am Ni-Nicki Minaj\nAnd if you want a m\u00e9nage\nKeep a couple pretty broads\nLook, head game busy busy\nMake a nigga dizzy dizzy\nBitch, I'm at that slumber party\nSippin on that frizzy chrissy\nWelcome to my private party\nMore hoes than a bachelor party\nSmoking, drinking, freaking\nShit can turn into a slumber party\nYou can't meet my mama, uh-uh\nBut here you go, my number, shawty\nWhen you feeling freaky, mama\nWe can have a slumber party\nA slumber party\nMama, have a slumber party\nYou can't meet my mama, uh-uh\nBut here you go, my number, shawty\nWhen you feeling freaky, mama\nWe can have a slumber party\nWe can have a slumber party\nWe can have a\u2014yeah"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsServin Lyrics\nWho it is?\nWho is this?\nOh that's whatcha-ma-call-it\nNigga, this Guwop, nigga\nOh, oh that's Guwop\nShut the fuck up, nigga\nSlap the shit out you, nigga\nI said it's Guwop, nigga\nTurn up\nAyy man\nKeep it pimpin'\n\nI think I had one too many blunts today (What the fuck?)\nToo many beers now I\u2019m drunk today (You hear me?)\nI drunk a pint of lean so I'm wasted mayne\nI got that gangsta in, nigga, you can taste it, mane\nI'm servin' (Huh?), I'm servin' (Huh?)\nAll of my niggas be servin' (Bricksquad)\nPull up to the curb, curb service (What you want?)\nWhatchu want nigga? We working (Yeah, we got it)\nI\u2019m servin (Huh?), I'm servin (Wop)\nCome through in my Bentley, I\u2019m swerving (Skrrt, swerve)\nHoes say I look better in person (Yeah, Guwop)\nMaybach, I'ma close the fuckin curtains (Wop)\nYou might also like\nWhat's happnin'? (Huh?)\nIt's Guwop\nThe legend (Huh?)\nShout out to Zone 6\nIt's Big Gucci (Huh?)\nDiamonds hittin' so hard\nYou see me\nI know you hear me\nThat strong in, I know you smell me\nY'all niggas some fuck niggas, I know you tellin'\nAnd I don't need ya, 'cause I'm a felon\n\nTouch down in ya city, where the pass at (Where the pass?)\nWhere the pass at? You make a nigga laugh, Black (Laughing)\nNeed a pass for you, nigga, you'll get blast at (Baow)\nYou just a mid-grade nigga like my last pack (Package)\nI'm just a money makin' nigga you can call ASCAP (Wow)\nYou waiting on me to fall, you need to wait on your income tax check\nI got so much money, I left the mall with every damn bitch\nAnd for the Panthers raise your arm up then you make a balled fist (Panthers)\nThey moved my nigga so far away 'cause they say he was high risk (Free my niggas)\nHis folks can't even come down to see him, barely can pay they damn rent (Church)\nAnd now he frustrated, incarcerated, and it got us all tense (Tense)\nAnd if them folks try to give me forty, I'ma jump the damn fence (Go)\nI'm chargin 3900 for it, I got them bags in (Got them bags)\n850, you know I got that swag in (Damn)\nI got that Mexican weed, them bricks, you know that trash shit (That Reg')\nAnd all you gotta do is drive this shit to Athens (Go)\nBricksquad in this bitch, we known for takin' (Yeah)\nI got a couple more 'dem squares they going to Macon (Come fuck with me)\nI'ma stop by Savannah, then Augusta (Augusta)\nAnd I'm a multimillionaire, but I'm from Custer (Wop)\n\nThese niggas tryna hold me back but a nigga can't never hold me back (Nah)\nGucci Mane, I'ma get up, I'ma walk 'round and I'ma get me a stack (Yeah)\nWalk around with these thigh pads, damn, my nigga that my bad (Walla)\nThat you broke so damn fast, had the same chance that I had\nYou feel bad but I'm not sad, you can talk trash but I moved on\nThree homes, ten phones, tell me where did it go wrong?\nAll the money that I have aka that\u2019s my stash (Mine)\nNigga try to take my cash, bet the nigga gon' die fast (Yeah)\n50 bands in the brand new pants, take 5000 and I wipe my ass\nGucci Mane, fear no man, I\u2019m a tough guy like Conan (It's Gucci)\nMojo, my right hand and Unit was our dope man\nAnd R.I.P. to my dope man, I know he lookin' down from Heaven\n\nI'm chargin 3900 for it, I got them bags in (Got them bags)\n850, you know I got that swag in (Damn)\nI got that Mexican weed, them bricks, you know that trash shit (That Reg')\nAnd all you gotta do is drive this shit to Athens (Go)\nBricksquad in this bitch, we known for takin' (Yeah)\nI got a couple more 'dem squares they going to Macon (Come fuck with me)\nI'ma stop by Savannah, then Augusta (Augusta)\nAnd I'm a multimillionaire, but I'm from Custer (Wop)"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsStutter Lyrics\nI can't even lie, that bitch so bad, lil' mama so thick\nThe way she throw it back it make you stutter when you hit\n\nI'm just tryna fight it off, ain't tryna nut too quick\nShe make me wanna take her, she's another nigga bitch\nA bitch that Gucci Mane can't get, man that bitch don't exist\nThis dick so good, I take it from her, she might slit her wrist\nBling blaww burr, I put diamonds on her clit\nFucked her in the air, yeah she ride me on the jet\nHis and her fur, yeah I bought my chick a fit\nLike Edward Scissorhands, yeah she cut up on that dick\nG-g-g-good God, so why she standing back like a pic?\nSpaghetti straps in my Maybach, she showing off her tits\nShe ran off on the plug, so I'ma smash her at the Ritz\nS-skeeted in her mouth so now she talkin' with a lisp\n\nI can't even lie, that bitch so bad lil' mama so thick\nThe way she throw it back it make you stutter when you hit\nI can't even lie, that bitch so bad lil' mama so thick\nThe way she throw it back it make you stutter when you hit\n\nI told her bring a friend with her but she just brought some twins\nThree girls and one Gucci Mane goddamn I'm goin' in\nAll these Franklins on me man I said my name was Ben\nMagic City Monday night, I just threw up a ten\nNigga with a attitude I feel like Cube and Ren\nThese two ice cubes in my ear they cost a quarter M\nThat pussy hairy scarin' me, goddamn she need to trim\nThe way that bitch took care of me she might get her a Benz\nShe suck me 'til it tickle me, slow down the neighbors listenin'\nI got on like ten necklaces, you know my diamonds glistenin'\nShe fucked me then she shot me with her friends, I think she trickin' me\nHer nigga know about me but goddamn he can't get rid of me\nShe st-t-t-stutter step, around the suite in lingerie\nI beat it up like MMA she drank it up like Aliz\u00e9\nEight Latinos in my room I feel like it's the fifth of May\nPull up on the kid, you dig?\nBut bitch I ain't got time to play\nYou might also like\nI can't even lie, that bitch so bad lil' mama so thick\nThe way she throw it back it make you stutter when you hit\nI-I can't even lie, that bitch so bad lil' mama so thick\nThe way she throw it back it make you stutter when you hit\nStutter when you hit\nStutter when you hit\nS-s-stutter when you hit\nI-I can't even lie, that bitch so bad lil' mama so thick\nThe way she throw it back it make you stutter when you hit\nI-I can't even lie, that bitch so bad lil' mama so thick\nThe way she throw it back it make you stutter when you hit\nI-I"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsMy Kitchen Lyrics\nBouldercrest Records CEO speaking\nSo Icey Entertainment CEO speaking (Icey)\nBlood In Blood Out member speaking (Uh, uh)\nEast Atlanta, Bouldercrest affiliated (Yeah, Supastar)\nIt's ya boy Gucci (Supastar)\nAnother beat banger, Fatboi fucking with me (Supastar, Gangsta Grillz)\n\nPut the pounds in the trash can, Gucci do the dishes (Yeah)\nDon't nobody, nobody fuck with my kitchen (Yeah)\nBought a old school, then I sat it on sixes (Yeah)\nHow you cop it, Gucci? Plenty working in the kitchen (Huh)\nPounds in the trash can, Gucci do the dishes (Yeah)\nDon't nobody, nobody fuck with my kitchen (Yeah)\nBought a old school, then I sat it on sixes (Yeah)\nHow you cop it, how you get it? plenty working in the kitchen (Uh)\n\nThirty thousand dollars for the So Icey Squad (Damn)\nThousand per diem for the So Icey Boys (Yeah)\nGucci Aquarius a So Icy shark (Uh)\nSelling white chalk tryna duck these narcs (Uh)\nBought some Lowenharts and some D-U-Bs\n34 inch Ashantis on the Humvee (Yeah)\nWhole lot of purp, whole lot of green (Huh)\nWhole heap of white, large amount of beans (True)\nGot them collard greens, sell a lot of things\nFour plus a four, dawg, that's a chicken wing (Yeah)\nTrapping in a drought, money in the vault\nBring me another pot and another fo', Gucci\nYou might also like\nPut the pounds in the trash can, Gucci do the dishes (Yeah)\nDon't nobody, nobody fuck with my kitchen (Yeah)\nBought a old school, then I sat it on sixes (Yeah)\nHow you cop it, Gucci? Plenty working in the kitchen (Huh)\nPounds in the trash can, Gucci do the dishes (Yeah)\nDon't nobody, nobody fuck with my kitchen (Yeah)\nBought a old school, then I sat it on sixes (Yeah)\nHow you cop it, how you get it? plenty working in the kitchen (Uh)\n\nGucci don't care, scale like yeah (Yeah)\nMojo's there, Eggbeater's there (Beater)\nRIP to Blockbeater, O.J. here (Juice)\nOh my God, it's Zone 6 year (Year)\nZone 6 chips, Bouldercrest beer (Beer)\nZone 6 rims and Bouldercrest gems (Yeah)\n30 inches got me looking down on them (Them)\nAnd I'm so high, it's so lonely up here (Lonely up here)\nJumping out the vert, it's some bitches over there (Bitches over there)\nBig booty bitches loves a good cooking player (Player)\nBricks in the basement, pills in the cabinet\nPounds in the closet, money in the attic, Gucci\n\nPut the pounds in the trash can, Gucci do the dishes (Yeah)\nDon't nobody, nobody fuck with my kitchen (Yeah)\nBought a old school, then I sat it on sixes (Yeah)\nHow you cop it, Gucci? Plenty working in the kitchen (Huh)\nPounds in the trash can, Gucci do the dishes (Yeah)\nDon't nobody, nobody fuck with my kitchen (Yeah)\nBought a old school, then I sat it on sixes (Yeah)\nHow you cop it, how you get it? plenty working in the kitchen (Uh)\nDope bowl crack (Damn), now we getting mad (Damn)\nBut we ain't really lost cause we can Isotol dat ass (Yeah)\nWhen we bringing raw (Raw), bring it to your door (Huh)\nMoney on the floor, bring money to the door, Gucci\n\nPut the pounds in the trash can, Gucci do the dishes (Yeah)\nDon't nobody, nobody fuck with my kitchen (Yeah)\nBought a old school, then I sat it on sixes (Yeah)\nHow you cop it, Gucci? Plenty working in the kitchen (Huh)\nPounds in the trash can, Gucci do the dishes (Yeah)\nDon't nobody, nobody fuck with my kitchen (Yeah)\nBought a old school, then I sat it on sixes (Yeah)\nHow you cop it, how you get it? plenty working in the kitchen, Gucci (Uh)"}
{"text":"16 ContributorsPoint In My Life Lyrics\nFirst thang first, baby girl let's get acquainted\nMy name Gucci Mane, baby tell me what you dranking\nThat boy is a lame, he don't got no super game\nMy name Gucci Mane and baby girl that's just a name\nTell me who you came with and the reason that you came\nYou don't need to be here girl you should be ashamed\nBaby let me help you, I'll be your shelter in the rain\nLet me be your doctor tell me where you feeling pain\nI can be your pill baby, I can keep you sane\nAnd I can be your whip, I can whip you off the chain\nI know you heard bout Guwop and my boys we off the chain\nI'm the boss and spilling sauce\nCause Gucci don't know how to sang\n\nI'm at this point of my life, important part of my life\nI'm at this point of my life, that I don't really have time\nI'm at this point of my life, girl would you set me aside\nI'm at the point of my life, I'm having sex with your mind\n\nTo all the hustlas worldwide, and from coast to coast\nPut your glasses in the air and propose a toast\nGrab the pretty girl that you love the most\nLadies grab your boyfriend, baby hold him close\nI got a girl From a Island and she love me mo\nGot another girl and she love my boat\nGot another girl love to sell my dope\nGot another girl love to buy me coats\nBut they ain't you bae, no they ain't you babe\nIt's just somethin else I can do when ain't nohin to do babe\nSee they ain't you babe, it's me and you babe\nAnd there ain't nothing else I can do but be with you, babe\nYou might also like\nI'm at this point of my life, important part of my life\nI'm at this point of my life, that I don't really have time\nCome at this point of my life, girl would you set me aside\nI'm at the point of my life, I'm having sex with your mind"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsBig Boy Diamonds Lyrics\nBig boy diamonds (Burr)\nI'm that big boy stepper, I'm that stepper\nAll my steps calculated, I'm\u2005that\u2005stepper, nigga (Free\u2005Kodak, ASAP)\nRemember that, I'm the one\u2005that's stepping, nigga\nI'ma step, one thing about me, yeah\nI'm in London, got my beat from London (Go)\n\nBig boy diamonds\nIce on me changin' the climate\nShe like the way I be vibin' (Damn)\nThis ain't a grill\nIce on my teeth, yeah, it's permanent\nBought a new gun and I dirtied it\nI'm a burglar and a murderer, try me\nI'm a burglar and a murderer, try me\nBig boy diamonds\nIce on me changin' the climate\nShe like the way I be vibin'\nBig boy diamonds\n\nBeat down your lady vagina, rockin' the latest designer\nPull off like abracadabra, boo-hoo\nPull right back up in a Jag' with voodoo\nMilkin' these bitches like Yoo-hoo\nShit on these niggas, I doo-doo\nI'm passin' gas like I farted\nBoy, if you smelled it, you dealt it\nWater on me like I'm meltin', water\nFuck on your daughter, don't call her, water\nCome here, lil' bitch, I'm your father, water\nCall me daddy, I'm your papi\nComin' over, drop the addy\nI was on Xannies already, I be on mollies already\nFuck all the talkin', I been done shot 'em already\nYou might also like\nBig boy diamonds\nIce on me changin' the climate\nShe like the way I be vibin'\nThis ain't a grill\nIce on my teeth, yeah, it's permanent\nBought a new gun and I dirtied it\nI'm a burglar and a murderer, try me\nI'm a burglar and a murderer, try me\nBig boy diamonds\nIce on me changin' the climate\nShe like the way I be vibin' (Go)\nBig boy diamonds\n\nI'ma be icy in Heaven\nDiamonds on me and they white like a wife at the wedding\nI done shot dice with my celly\nI taught a lifer a lesson\nI put that knife on the peasant (Huh)\nI bought the choppers already\nGucci the G.O.A.T. but you know it already (G.O.A.T.)\nScope on the rifle, I'm holdin' it steady\nDiamond AP like Elvis Presley, dancin' (Wop)\nPlay like you hard, but you sweeter than jelly\nBitch, I'm the shit, it ain't shit you can tell me (Huh)\nHer stomach on flat 'til my dick in her belly\nThink I'm a lick, spend a brick on a Presi'\nChristmas, I want a stick for a present\nBaguette Chopard, it's factory setted (Bling)\nRun up on Wop and you'll never forget it\nI broke the dam, I told 'em to flood it\nI want the cash, I don't want the credit\nWent in my stash and gave me a budget\nMy pockets so budgy that bitches is callin' me handsome\nThat then, was callin' me ugly (Huh?)\nI caught a rash from countin' the money\nI'm changin' the climate like global warming (Bling)\nShe seen the charm and said I'm charming\nThe watch on my arm, it come with an army\nBig boy diamonds\nIce on me changin' the climate\nShe like the way I be vibin'\nThis ain't a grill\nIce on my teeth, yeah, it's permanent\nBought a new gun and I dirtied it\nI'm a burglar and a murderer, try me\nI'm a burglar and a murderer, try me\nBig boy diamonds\nIce on me changin' the climate\nShe like the way I be vibin'\nBig boy diamonds"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsPhoto Shoot Lyrics\nYeah\nListen to this track, bitch\n\nLike Tommy Lee and Pamela, I'm fucking on the camera\nMore stamina than animals, Gucci is no amateur\nJeru the Damaja, could damage you or handle you\nTwo girls on my bike, one on the back, one on the handle bars\nFerrari F-130, so I call that bitch Tarantula\nGot Canada on calendar, so shout out to my manager\nI walk through in South Africa\nI jumped in my four Acuras\nI flip it just like spatula (Listen to this track, bitch)\nSo suck me just like Dracula\nPolo like a college boy\nNo I'm not a college boy\nI am a So Icy boy, I'm tatted like a biker boy\nWe are the So Icy gang, tatted like a biker gang\nDreaded up, breaded up\nWet it up and bet it up, bitch, you don't want bet\nPull up in my Chevy 'Vette\nNah, you ain't ready yet\nWetter than your girl get\nDolce 'Bana, Dolce shades, don't you wanna see the boy?\nSee the boy, see the boy\nCome and take a Polaroid, Polaroid\nCamera flash, camera flash, I see your ass\nLooking with your looking ass\nSo come and take a camera flash (Ha)\nJewelry game amazing\nCar game crazy\nGucci Mane LaFlare walking 'round the city, say cheese (Listen to this track, bitch)\nYou might also like\nRiding with my broad, it's a photo shoot\nWhen I hit the mall, it's a photo shoot\nWhen I'm in the club, it's a photo shoot\nGo on and get your camera phone on, it's a photo shoot\nIt's a photo shoot\nGirl, it's a photo shoot\nGirl, It's a photo shoot\nGirl, it's a photo shoot\nWhen I'm with your girl, every time it's a photo shoot (Verse two, it's Gucci)\nGo on get your camera phone on it's a photo shoot (Listen to this track, bitch)\n\nPhotogenic chain, man, photographic memory\nI can fuck your thang but I don't fuck hoes in industry\nGucci Mane LaFlare, So Icy, you remember me\nRemember me from TV, turning on your TV\nHip-hop police say they looking after me\nHow you looking after me? You know I had a murder beef\nYeah, I got a murder beef, I'm just tryna get something to eat\nMe and my lil' main squeeze, give a nigga break, please\nChain on Frigidaire, watches on refrigerate\n'Frigerate, refrigerate, I'm freezing like a polar be\nRed carpet shawty and the paparazzi chasing me\nHow they gon' catch me? I'm riding in a Lamborghin' (Listen to this track, bitch)\nRiding with my broad, it's a photo shoot\nWhen I hit the mall, it's a photo shoot\nWhen I'm in the club, it's a photo shoot\nGo on and get your camera phone on, it's a photo shoot\nIt's a photo shoot\nGirl, it's a photo shoot\nIt's a photo shoot\nGirl, it's a photo shoot\nWhen I'm with your girl, every time it's a photo shoot\nGo on get your camera phone on it's a photo shoot (Listen to this track, bitch)\n\nMe and Boosie smoking fruity, it look like a photo shoot\nShout out to my nigga, Webbie, my hoes independent too\nMe and Shawty Lo in a Duely smoking purple dro\nMe and Gotti in a Benz, man, you know we get it in\nMe, Black, And Gorilla Zoe in the studio by Club Enzo\nAnd Zone 6, Morning Avenue, Memorial Drive, you know for sure\nShawna fine and Trina tight, I kill them girls like Killer Mike\nKiller Mike, I kill the mic so shout out to slick, Killer Mike (Killa)\nMe and Plies, chinky eyed, back to back in Hummers\nSo it's tint, tires, double wide, 30 inches on you guys\nUGK my favorite group for years been riding with them guys\n8 Ball told 'em lay it down and I did that 'bout 30 times\nRiding with my broad, it's a photo shoot\nWhen I hit the mall, it's a photo shoot\nWhen I'm in the club, it's a photo shoot\nGo on and get your camera phone on, it's a photo shoot\nIt's a photo shoot\nGirl, it's a photo shoot\nIt's a photo shoot\nGirl, it's a photo shoot\nWhen I'm with your girl, every time it's a photo shoot\nGo on get your camera phone on it's a photo shoot (Listen to this track, bitch)"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsIntro: Fuck 12 Lyrics\nIt's Wizop\nHuh? Huh?\n\nI still don't give a fuck how a fuckboy feel\nHow you gon' keep it real and your diamonds not real?\nI do it so big, I make a hater feel little\nI can't tell you why they hating, but I have an idea\nYou never liked me, probably don't like me still\nBut a nigga liking me ain't never paid my bills\nI'm the realest nigga living, let's get one thing clear\nAnd if you wanna get it popping, we can do it right here\nI ain't never been embarrassed, I ain't never felt fear\nI got post-traumatic stresses like I can't shed tears\nI ain't even been out 6 months, but I spent 6 mil\nGot a million dollar grin and a 10 million dollar crib\nAnd my heart done turned burr-burr like my adlibs\nIn the kitchen going skrt-skrt tryna make a mil\nGot these bitches screaming Bling-Blaww, diamonds in my ear\nI send my shooters then it's pow-pow, another tatted tear\nYeah it's 2016, so it's Guwop year\nWhen I was 16, I was making drug deals\nThese niggas say they getting money, I can't really tell\nI made more money than them and I was in a jail cell\nYou might also like\nI'ma say it once again, trust God, fuck 12\nA real skreet nigga will never ever call 12\nSay it once again, trust God, fuck 12\nA real skreet nigga will never ever call 12\nWop, Wop, Wop, Wop\n\nI'm down on that red, this right here gon' get hard. Gon' get hard. Every day I'm getting fucking harder, I am...\n\nWop, fuck 12, Wop, fuck 12\nWop, Wop"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsIm a Dog Lyrics\nUh, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nEvery dog has it's day, man, every dog\nAnd you know I'm the only dog (Gucci)\nSo Icey Entertainment (So Icey, baby), Gucci (Yeah)\nYola Da Great, baby (Yeah)\nYo, yo, what it do? We linked up, we linked up, man (Yeah)\nZaytoven behind these tracks, I'm here, buddy\n\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'ma treat her like a dog (Huh?), feed her like a dog (Huh)\nBeat her like a dog (Yeah), then pass her to my dogs (Yeah)\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nTreat her like a dog (Yeah), feed her like a dog (Yeah, Gucci, Gucci)\nBeat her like a dog (Huh), then pass her to my dogs (Yeah)\n\nSee my knot very dumb and my girlfriend twenty-one\nAnd I know that's kinda young and I only feed her crumbs\nMy Jacob watch is short bus, man, it's special ed\n'Cause these girls be droolin every time they see the VVS\nGot a drop top Vette and the thang so stupid\nThe rims are off the set, girls be jumping in my bed\nI'm a dog, a St. Bernard, and that dick get hard as hell\nWe can leave the bed made up, I can fuck you on the chair\nA boss run with dogs, man, I don't fuck hoes with fleas\nHundred fifty thousand dollar dog collars for the team\nI'm a boss, run with dogs, man and I don't fuck hoes with fleas\nHundred fifty thousand dollar dog collars for the team (So Icey)\nYou might also like\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'ma treat her like a dog (Huh?), feed her like a dog (Huh)\nBeat her like a dog (Yeah), then pass her to my dogs (Yeah)\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nTreat her like a dog (Yeah), feed her like a dog (Yeah)\nBeat her like a dog (Huh), then pass her to my dogs (Yeah)\n\nI got every kind of bitches droolin' on a nigga style\n'Cause my pockets fat, I smoke the 'thrax while they blow Black & Milds\nI hit the club with Zay, we in the front, all these niggas' bitches choosin'\nGucci got 'em rollin', so I know they down to shoot a movie\nNiggas baller-blockin', hatin' on a killa movement\nOut the bed to grits and eggs, head and sum booty\nI'm young doing numbers and all the women love me\nJust because I'm gutter, Black, got a bank and I'm thuggin'\nI never love a broad 'cause I'm a motherfuckin' dog\nYou can ask a couple about me, bet they tell you I'm off the wall\nI got doctors, lawyers, dealers, even strippers on my team\nAnd I never show favoritism, everyone's treated the same\nI'm a boss of all bitches, so they never complainin'\nThey respect this gangsta shit, 'cause I got so much game\nYou ain't gotta ask about me, nigga, you know who I be\nI'm a motherfuckin' dog, can you understand me?\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'ma treat her like a dog (Huh?), feed her like a dog (Huh)\nBeat her like a dog (Yeah), then pass her to my dogs (Yeah)\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nTreat her like a dog (Yeah), feed her like a dog (Yeah)\nBeat her like a dog (Huh), then pass her to my dogs (Yeah)\n\nChasin' cats, chasin' rats, Gucci got them power packs\nGot 'em, them straight from the 6, East Atlanta, proud of that\nThis fine broads looking at me, damn, I see a puddy cat\nAnd I like them freaky girls, they know how to throw it back\nPut up your shot, I'll throw it back, Throw Back, please roll up the 'thrax\nThrow Back get sum jaw while I'm killin' this bitch from the back\nPut up your shot, I'll throw it back, Throw Back, please roll up the 'thrax\nShawtie get sum jaw while we killin' this ho from the back\n\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'ma treat her like a dog (Huh?), feed her like a dog (Huh)\nBeat her like a dog (Yeah), then pass her to my dogs (Yeah)\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nI'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog, I'm a dog\nTreat her like a dog (Yeah), feed her like a dog (Yeah)\nBeat her like a dog (Huh), then pass her to my dogs (Yeah)\nI'm a dog"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsFuck the World Lyrics\nEar Drummers\n\nMoney owed, dope sold bitch you already know\nWhite birds black birds serving pigeons and crows\nI whip the dope so good, a benz jumped out the bowl\nMotherfuck the ATF and the border patrol\nMe and my amigos at the table shots of Don Julio\nI fucked your bitch a week ago, but I ain't gonna fuck her no more (Psych!)\nI got the stacks under the mattress so I sleep with the dough\nI got them bricks stuffed in the wall so yea I live with the coke\nIt's Bricksquad and I know you niggas mad cause you broke\nHe seen my video on the TV and he broke the remote\nI'm like Pablo in his prime, shoulder deep with the snow\nI read yo paper work nigga man yall niggas some hoes\n\nI been on some fuck the world shit lately\nAnd I grind to get where I'm at\nThese niggas don't want to see you with these stacks\nI'm a fly nigga to be exact\nAnd I been on some the fuck the world shit lately\nCause I grind to get where I'm at\nThese niggas don't want to see you with these stacks\nI fuck fly bitches to be exact\nAnd I been on some fuck the world shit\nYou might also like\nI got all eyes on me like Pac did\nBut I ain't trying to go broke like Joc did\nI ain't trying to fuck my dealer did like Block did\nI'm trying to stack them free bands like Rock did\nTell the truth I never thought that I get this big\nI think I'm about to buy some choppers like Tip did\nI came in, flexing jewelry like Flip did\nGot every penny out the 6 I swear I milked it\nThat Bricksquad shit I built it\nI put Flocka in the game and he killed it\nI did a song with Lil Wayne and I killed it\nMy only wish my nigga Dunk was here to rip shit (It's Gucci)\n\nI been on some fuck the world shit lately\nAnd I grind to get where I'm at\nThese niggas don't want to see you with these stacks\nI'm a fly nigga to be exact\nAnd I been on some the fuck the world shit lately\nCause I grind to get where I'm at\nThese niggas don't want to see you with these stacks\nI fuck fly bitches to be exact\nAnd I been on some fuck the world shit\n\nMy uncle Ronnie died from smoking cane\nMy cousin suicidal, he blowed out his brain\nThey gave my nigga 30 years, he in a chain gang\nI just had to drop a 40 racks up on my ring\nI'm in Giuseppe's walking in the rain\nI can't even help it I been through some things\nI put my heart in every verse and when I'm on that plane\nI'm thanking God for all my watches, and all my chains\nI'm in Chanel and I'm in Ferragamos\nThese bitches know I'm worth these commas\nThey know I got that llama\nAnd my lil sister just got out that coma\nThat sickle cell hurtin' her bones\nFree my nigga Bomma\nI been on some fuck the world shit lately\nAnd I grind to get where I'm at\nThese niggas don't want to see you with these stacks\nI'm a fly nigga to be exact\nAnd I been on some the fuck the world shit lately\nCause I grind to get where I'm at\nThese niggas don't want to see you with these stacks\nI fuck fly bitches to be exact\nAnd I been on some fuck the world shit"}
{"text":"43 ContributorsPillz Lyrics\nYeah! Gucci Mane is in the building!\nSo Icy Entertainment, Zaytoven on the track\nWe goin' to the club, we got the choppers on deck and the yoppers on deck\n\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nYeah\n\nEast Atlanta slum man is where I come from\nPass that bubble thrax and put this bean on your tongue\nNow everything was gravy 'til yo' bitch came in\n'Bout the same time that that thang kicked in\nNow she ain't really pretty but she got a nice body\nI'm geeked up thinkin this Buffie The Body\nAin't yo' name lil' Trina? Cause you look like Janet Jackson\nI'm off three double stacks and I'm lookin' for that action\nGucci Mane, you stupid man I love the way you flowin\nRidin' in my drop but I don't know where I'm goin'\nOn two eighty five I keep ridin' in a circle\nThe inside of my ride smellin' like a pound of purple\n\"Gucci, show time!\" Give me five mo' minutes\nAnd a cold orange juice, cause I'm really really trippin'\nWent to the strip club and requested \"I'm Da Man\"\nThe next thing you know I was throwin' rubber bands\nYou might also like\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nYeah\n\nShawty tellin me she ain't neva suck no dick\nNeva took a pill or neva ate a bitch\nYou a lie but I ain't gonna get upset right now\nBut I wish I had a lie detector test right now\nYou say you married, well bitch you might be\nBut I bet your husband ain't icy like me\nShe stand on B.C. in my ashy black tee\nWith them dopeman Nikes and them Jordache jeans\nI don't pay her but I still keep that thrax on me\nI'm the shit in East Atlanta baby ask about me\nPop one pop two two halves that's three\nAin't no waffle house baby, hell I can't eat\nGucci hood like your hoodman he's so extreme\nWearing Dolce's in the club cause you know the boy geeked\nDrop the top on that thang let you see my seats\nWe've been rollin', rollin', rollin', we ain't slept in weeks\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nYeah\n\nGucci Mane La Flare, nigga get your mind right\nOrder Cris by the twelve like a case of Bud Light\nSell kush by the bale so you kno might shit tight\n7:30 in the morning on an all-night flight\nI'm high like Fabo hood like Shawty\nSo tell me when to go like my name E-40\nA rich rock star nigga I'm gonna party\nGot a party pack of pills that's at least bout 40\nI'll pour them in your hand like a bag of jelly beans\nTake two of these pills, call me in the morning\nFifty thousand pills man I'm so real\nThree dollars for a pill; that's a damn good deal\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nIs you rollin'?\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nGirl, he geeked up\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nBitch, I might be\nYeah\n\nHey, what's up Gucci Mane, why you sweating so hard?\nIs you rolling or something?\nShit, well, baby I might be...\nBut god damn, what is you doing? You jockin' a playa, you too chewy over here, right?\nLook, I ain't K-Rab baby, you know what I mean\nI'm not a piece of bubblegum, what I'm doing is not your business. But matter of fact, while you over here, is you a waitress or something? \u2019Cause the shit you got on make you look like you a waitress\nSo do what you do, aight. I'ma give you this hundred dollars. Go get you whatever you drinking, bring me and the clique about ten of them orange juices, five Crunk Juices and we'll be straight, how \u2019bout that\nAnd is you straight? Is you single or is you married?"}
{"text":"DaVinci (DaVinci, DaVinci)\nYeah\nShoutout the whole Oakland City, man\nYou know what I'm saying? The whole 4PF\nKnow what I'm saying? I put this up\nYeah\n\nShoutout my label, that's me\nI'm in this bitch with TB\nI'm in this bitch with 4 Trey\nI just poured up me an eight\nReal nigga all in my face\nFive hundred racks in my safe\nFive hundred racks to the plug\nWhat you know 'bout showin' love?\nWhat you know 'bout pullin' up in Bentley trucks?\nMake these bitches fall in love\nAll of my niggas on go\nNone of my niggas no ho\nAll of my niggas want smoke\nAll of my niggas together\nWe came from the bottom, we used to wear each other's clothes\nNone of my niggas gon' fold\nCouple pussy niggas told\nThey ain\u2019t my niggas no more\nHold it down for the four\nIn the nine with the woes\nMarlo my dawg, that's for sure\nWe won't fall out about shit\n'Specially not 'bout no bitch\nWe ain't gon' fall out 'bout hoes\nMe and Ced get them loads\nWe let 'em go for the low\nI got my hood in control\nI got my left wrist on froze\nI got my right wrist on froze\nI got my necklace on froze\nBoth of my ears on froze\nI been gettin' faded, I'm sippin' on maple\nIf she won't fuck, I won't make her\nI don't like bitches with makeup\nIf she want titties, I pay for 'em\nGet outta that when I wake up\nI pass the ball, I don't layup\nI'm a big boss, I got say so\nThey'll wipe you down if I say so\nDracos on Dracos on Dracos on Dracos\n40s on 40s on 40s\nI just bought me some new water\nWetter than Katrina, shoutout New Orleans\nI made a promise my niggas gon' ball\nHard in the paint, change my name to John Wall\nGeekin' off trees like a leaf in the fall\nFind a new plug then we takin' em all\nPull up in a brand new Benz truck\nHop out fresher than a menthol\nLil' nigga, but I'm big, dawg\nAll I gotta make is one call\nGet a nigga block, took off\nCross a nigga up, Hot Sauce\nOoh, I got 'em mad, my fault\nTalkin' 'bout the shit that I bought\nPoppin' these Percs, I done turned to a savage\nHundred racks stuffed in the mattress\nHundred racks stuffed in the attic\nHundred racks stuffed in the sofa\nThese niggas play gangster, but they won't approach me\nI know they never approach me\nThey know that they'll catch a bullet\nI rock the gang to the fullest\nI run with some real ones, don't hang with no pussies\nI ain't no killer, don't push me\nI see how you niggas be lurkin'\nI hope you don't think you no bully\nI'm livin' the life, I should star in a movie\nRidin' in a Vert with an Uzi\n12 get behind me, I lose 'em\nThey tryna guess what I'm doin'\nThey tryna guess who I'm screwin'\nThat ain't even they business\nThey ain't wanna fuck with me\nNow they see a nigga drippin'\nNow they wanna fuck with me\nThey can't get in touch with me\nHardly ever in the city\nThey just know I'm gettin' bigger\nThey just know a nigga busy\nI been runnin' up them digits\nYou might also like\nYeah"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easClose Friends Lyrics\nOh, this the one right here, Wicked?\nOkay\nYeah, yeah\nRun that back, Turbo\n\nWe started off as close friends (Close friends)\nSomehow you turned into my girlfriend (My girlfriend)\nWe used to tell each other everything (Everything)\nI even went and bought her diamond rings, matching earrings\nEverything was so cool (So cool)\nLately baby been actin' so rude (Been so rude)\nI don't know what somebody told you (What they told you)\nBut I ain't gon' lie, I miss the old you\n\nI know you remember how I would hold you\nStill remember how I approached you\nI think I loved you 'fore I knew you\nKnow we be fuckin' 'fore I screwed you\nMade a promise I won't use you\nPlay my cards right, I won't lose you\nGot 'em tuned in like I'm YouTube\nGot somethin' on me like it's voodoo\nI'll go nuts for you, go cuckoo, lose my cool and all\nAnd I know that shit was wrong, I shouldn't've did what I did\nYou might also like\nJust wipe your eyes and stop this cryin'\nI told the truth, that I'd been lyin'\nI gave you racks, I tried to buy in\nI even did the unthinkable, and I'm sorry for what I did to you\nTake me back, if I was you and I did what I did\nI probably would, I probably wouldn't\nTake you back, if I was you and I did what I did\nI probably would, I probably wouldn't\nJust wipe your eyes and stop this cryin'\nI told the truth, that I'd been lyin'\nI gave you racks, I tried to buy in\nI even did the unthinkable, and I'm sorry for what I did to you\n\nWe started off as close friends (Close friends)\nSomehow you turned into my girlfriend (My girlfriend)\nWe used to tell each other everything (Everything)\nI even went and bought her diamond rings, matching earrings\nEverything was so cool (So cool)\nLately baby been actin' so rude (Been so rude)\nI don't know what somebody told you (What they told you)\nBut I ain't gon' lie, I miss the old you\n\nKeep our business to ourselves\nThe internet ain't doin' no help\nI know I shouldn't've never left\nBut everything I did for us\nAnd us, I'm speakin' on my kids\nThinkin' 'bout this shit I did\nLike how the hell I get myself involved in this bullshit?\nMarried to the game, I can't make you my fianc\u00e9e\nBad young boss bitch, treat her like Beyonc\u00e9\nBut damn what them broads say, I fucked them all the first day\nAnd that's why you trippin' anyway, like when I fuck 'em I don't pay\nEven if we never speak again\nI'll make sure you're ridin' in the latest Benz\nKeep your business all apart if you can stay out of mine\nBought a brand new Audemars, but I done ran out of time\nWe started off as close friends (Close friends)\nSomehow you turned into my girlfriend (My girlfriend)\nWe used to tell each other everything (Everything)\nI even went and bought her diamond rings, matching earrings\nEverything was so cool (So cool)\nLately baby been actin' so rude (Been so rude)\nI don't know what somebody told you (What they told you)\nBut I ain't gon' lie, I miss the old you"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsOn Me Lyrics\n(What's happenin', Chi Chi?)\n\nFill the bando up with bags, give the lil' bro them a job\nYou can come get rich with us, you gon' eat or you gon' starve?\nKeep a certified hitter sittin', I pay him not to rob\nHop out 2020 Cullinan, I'm ridin' in the stars\nKnow some people hate that I'm on top, I bulletproofed the car\nAll the members made free bands off packs, live like they crackin' cards\nJoe know for a fact I keep it real, he still ain't take the charge\nWhy she talkin' crazy 'bout me like I don't do more than my part?\nI can't play with my creation, give the world to my lil' boys\nI been savin' more than I been spendin', that's what I b\u0435 on\nI'm a human, I'm not perfect, I know sometim\u0435s I be wrong\n\nI'm like, \"Come and put that pussy on me, don't be runnin' from me\"\nIf I like it, I spend money on it, get whatever from me\nPut six figures in your business, I do real shit\nI drop cash at the dealership, they'll mail you a pink slip\nShe make sure she keep her nails did and her wig fixed\nWent to jail and that one held me down, she a real bitch\nHundred rounds in the double drum, this a Kel-Tec\nMarco been in prison for a while, but he still flex\nYou might also like\nI told brodie 'nem to park the car, but they still wrecked\nI don't think nobody around steal, but I still check\nI don't got a hundred mil' yet, I can't chill yet\nBut don't get it misconstrued, yeah, I get real checks\nBaby fuckin' like a pornstar, we have real sex\nHave nobody in our business, we take Learjets\nSay she like when I perform, so I fuck her with my chains on\nAnd she handlin' her part, so I let her play the main role\nAin't have to get rich for these partners, still with the same folks\nAnd I can't beef with none of you niggas, not in the same boat\nI'm never gon' get caught up about it, know how the game go\nTennis chain bustin', look like rainbows\n\nI'm like, \"Come and put that pussy on me, don't be runnin' from me\"\nIf I like it, I spend money on it, get whatever from me\nPut six figures in your business, I do real shit\nI drop cash at the dealership, they'll mail you a pink slip\nShe make sure she keep her nails did and her wig fixed\nWent to jail and that one held me down, she a real bitch\nHundred rounds in the double drum, this a Kel-Tec\nMarco been in prison for a while, but he still flex\n\nI'm like, \"Come and put that pussy on me, don't be runnin' from me\"\nIf I like it, I spend money on it, get whatever from me"}
{"text":"Protests and growing national outcry continues over the death of George Floyd (Section 8 just\u2005straight\u2005cooked this motherfucker\u2005up)\nLast night, people protesting in Minneapolis\u2005escalated\nAs demonstrators were lashed by tear gas and rubber bullets\nThe main message here, the main message here, the main message here\nIs that they want to see those officers involved\nThey want to see those officers arrested\nOfficers arrested\n(I can't breathe, I can't breathe)\n\nTrade my 4x4 for a G63, ain't no more free Lil Steve\nI gave 'em chance and chance and chance again, I even done told them please\nI find it crazy the police'll shoot you and know that you dead, but still tell you to freeze\nFucked up, I seen what I seen\nI guess that mean hold him down if he say he can't breathe\nIt's too many mothers that's grieving\nThey killing us for no reason\nBeen going on for too long to get even\nThrow us in cages like dogs and hyenas\nI went to court and they sent me to prison\nMy mama was crushed when they said I can't leave\nFirst I was drunk, then I sobered up quick\nWhen I heard all that time that they gave to Taleeb\nHe got a life sentence plus\nWe just some products of our environment\nHow the fuck they gon' blame us?\nYou can't fight fire with fire\nI know, but at least we can turn up the flames some\nEvery colored person ain't dumb and all whites not racist\nI be judging by the mind and heart, I ain't really into faces\nFucked up, the way that we livin' is not getting better, you gotta know how to survive\nCrazy, I had to tell all of my loved ones to carry a gun when they going outside\nStare in the mirror whenever you drive\nOverprotective, go crazy for mine\nYou gotta pay attention to the signs\nSeem like the blind following the blind\nThinking 'bout everything that's going on\nI boost security up at my home\nI'm with my kind if they right or they wrong\nI call him now, he'll pick up the phone\nAnd it's five in the morning, he waking up on it\nTell 'em wherever I'm at, then they comin'\nI see blue lights, I get scared and start runnin'\nThat shit be crazy, they 'posed to protect us\nThrow us in handcuffs and arrest us\nWhile they go home at night, that shit messed up\nKnowing we needed help, they neglect us\nWondering who gon' make them respect us\nI can see in your eye that you fed up\nFuck around, got my shot, I won't let up\nThey know that we a problem together\nThey know that we can storm any weather\nYou might also like\nIt's bigger than black and white\nIt's a problem with the whole way of life\nIt can't change overnight\nBut we gotta start somewhere\nMight as well gon' 'head start here\nWe done had a hell of a year\nI'ma make it count while I'm here\nGod is the only man I fear\n\nFuck it, I'm goin' on the front line\nHe gon' bust your ass if you come past that gun line\nYou know when the storm go away, then the sun shine\nYou gotta put your head in the game when it's crunch time\nI want all my sons to grow up to be monsters\nI want all my daughters to show out in public\nSeems like we losing our country\nBut we gotta stand up for something, so this what it comes to\nEvery video I see on my conscience\nI got power, now I gotta say somethin'\nCorrupted police been the problem where I'm from\nBut I'd be lying if I said it was all of them\nI ain't do this for the trend, I don't follow them\nAltercations with the law, had a lot of them\nPeople speaking for the people, I'm proud of them\nStick together, we can get it up out of them\nI can't lie like I don't rap about killing and dope, but I'm telling my youngins to vote\nI did what I did 'cause I didn't have no choice or no hope, I was forced to just jump in and go\nThis bullshit is all that we know, but it's time for a change\nGot time to be serious, no time for no games\nWe ain't takin' no more, let us go from them chains\nGod bless they souls, every one of them names\nIt's bigger than black and white\nIt's a problem with the whole way of life\nIt can't change overnight\nBut we gotta start somewhere\nMight as well gon' 'head start here\nWe done had a hell of a year\nI'ma make it count while I'm here\nGod is the only man I fear\n\nThey trainin' officers to kill us, then shootin' protestors with these rubber bullets\nThey regular people, I know that they feel it\nThese scars too deep to heal us\nWhat happened to COVID? Nobody remember\nIt ain't makin' sense, I'm just here to vent\nIt happen to one of your people, it's different\nWe get it, the system is wicked, just learn how to pick it\nKnowledge is power, I swear I'm a witness, I know that I'm gifted\nI won't go too deep 'cause I'm scared they'll get me\nAin't scared to admit it, some shit I can't mention\nIt's people who can, well, here's the chance\nI won't take the stand, but I'll take a stand for what I believe\nMust not be breathing the air that I breathe\nYou know that the way that I bleed, you can bleed\nI never been a fan of police\nBut my neighborhood know I try to keep peace\nSo it's only right that I get in the streets\nMarch for a reason, not just on GP\nOur people died for us to be free\nFuck do you mean? This was a dream\nNow we got the power that we need to have\nThey don't want us with it and that's why they mad, yeah\nIt's bigger than black and white\nIt's a problem with the whole way of life\nIt can't change overnight\nBut we gotta start somewhere\nMight as well gon' 'head start here\nWe done had a hell of a year\nI'ma make it count while I'm here\nGod is the only man I fear\nIt's bigger than black and white\nIt's a problem with the whole way of life\nIt can't change overnight\nBut we gotta start somewhere\nMight as well gon' 'head start here\nWe done had a hell of a year\nI'ma make it count while I'm here\nGod is the only man I fear"}
{"text":"A love letter came through the mail, it said, \"I miss you\"\nI ripped it up\u2005and\u2005flushed with the\u2005tissue, try to forget you\nI ain't\u2005got nothing against you, we human, we all got issues\nBut I'm tired of being tired of being tired\nThat part of me done died\nI see it, then I don't, act like I'm blind\nI'm confident it won't be one of mine\nI know emotions come with lies, so I tell the truth all the time\nAin't got no sympathy for no bitch\nI admit that I'm rich and I'm lit\nJumpin' up on stages, I get two hundred an occasion\nBro had really fucked the game up, we made niggas shut they trap down\nThey see how I made it, I'm the reason they won't rap now\nSee me out in traffic, make a hater pull his hat down\nThe biggest OG's salute me, a stylist can't even style me\nThe robbers probably wanna get me, I'm hoppin' out Lamborghinis\nThe youngins turn in my city, they try me, I get it cracking\nSome of this still would happen if I never had started rapping\nMy people them still steady trapping and they still be getting active\nI tell 'em to chill, I'm tryna run up these M's\nPaid cash and then he post the crib (Nah)\nI can't show nobody where my mama live, that's how I 'posed to feel\nMy niece just asked me were my diamonds real, I said, \"Of course\"\nI just played the hand that I was dealt, didn't have to force\nAll around the world they know it's me, they hear my voice\nAnd I done it all in a pair of Diors, yeah\nYou might also like\nYoung age, learned how to get paid (We gon' get the money)\nBig stage, long way from Section 8 (Ballin' other countries)\nBig wave, he gon' have to get saved (Big old wave)\nRidin' in the foreign, chiefin' on the forest\nI know I wasn't there for you, at least I said I'm sorry\nYou know what it was, I told you that I was heartless\nI'm emotionally scarred, that ain't even your fault\nBut don't listen to them haters tryna fill your ears with salt\n\nAll this revenue coming in, I'll probably never spend\nI just bought my BM a Benz, now that's another Benz\nI just cut off all of my friends and brought my brothers in\nI don't see nobody but me, who I'm gon' lose to?\nI can't move around without tools, these niggas loose screws\nI can see me taking the lead over the new school\nThey remember me from selling weed at my old school\nOnly hit it once and now it's old news\nBlew up, who the fuck would knew? Paint my Trackhawk Nipsey Blue\nIf I get one, you get one too, I really move how bosses move\nI never call myself a G.O.A.T., I leave that up to the people\nEverybody can't go to the top, I had to leave some people\nI'ma be forever scheming, woke up, I thought I was dreaming\nWatched my lil' boy play with toys, I just dropped a tear of joy\nSome shit that I feel for\nI been going crazy with that scoring, call me Baby Harden\nThey say I'll be great, I guess I'm waiting for it\nYoung age, learned how to get paid (We gon' get the money)\nBig stage, long way from Section 8 (Ballin' other countries)\nBig wave, he gon' have to get saved (Big old wave)\nRidin' in the foreign, chiefin' on the forest\nI know I wasn't there for you, at least I said I'm sorry\nYou know what it was, I told you that I was heartless\nI'm emotionally scarred, that ain't even your fault\nBut don't listen to them haters tryna fill your ears with salt\nYoung age, learned how to get paid (We gon' get the money)\nBig stage, long way from Section 8 (Ballin' other countries)\nBig wave, he gon' have to get saved (Big old wave)\nRidin' in the foreign, chiefin' on the forest\nI know I wasn't there for you, at least I said I'm sorry\nYou know what it was, I told you that I was heartless\nI'm emotionally scarred, that ain't even your fault\nBut don't listen to them haters tryna fill your ears with salt"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easWoah Lyrics\nNew car very noisy\nCome through and it's roarin'\nYeah, yeah\nYou know how I'm coming\nYou know how\u2005I'm\u2005coming\n\nBend her over,\u2005then I murk her\nCall Gunna if\u2005you want you a Birkin\n\"Oh, Baby, you be lyin' in your verses\nI be hearin', say you buyin' 'em purses\"\nI can't even lie, you ain't my type\nYou ain't even all that fine in person\nI can guarantee you if you my kind\nShe got every bag you can imagine\nBig house, I can really be braggin'\nHundred thousand in my mouth like, \"What's happenin'?\"\nNot the big cheap teeth, that's embarrasin'\nHe ain't me, you can keep the comparisons\nMy bitch probably one of the baddest\nGood girl, turned her into a savage\nDispatch, got a problem in traffic\nWe came through in matching G-Wagens\nLow-key, I've been keeping it classy\nCould be really out here doin' 'em nasty\nNiggas couldn't even see me in last year\nJust started and them niggas in last gear\nI ain't even try to and I passed 'em\nGiving looks, I contribute to fashion\nDrop a song, I be giving them captions\nStand alone, not your regular rapper\nYou might also like\nBrand new car is noisy, come through and it's roarin' (Skrrt)\nYou ain't gotta worry, don't care about your boyfriend\nSee me and get nervous, I damn near did it perfect\nWork hard and determine, it's safe to say I earned it, woah\nYeah, none of you guys get fly as me, woah\nMatter of fact, none of you guys get high as me, woah\nPost my drip up daily just so they can see, woah\nTurn me up some more so my haters can hear it, woah (Yeah)\n\nI put the dope in the back of the car and I tell 'em to go\nShe hit when she land, she bring me the bands, she back on the road\nShe know how I get when I get in that mode\nAin't fuckin' with bitches, ain't buying no clothes\nWanna do shows and make me some songs\nMake sure that other shit come in, get sold\nWe fuck with the strippers 'cause we play with poles\nWe play with our money and not with our nose\nI used to go to the West to get loads\nI just came back from the West with a trophy\nI'm on some more shit\nShe said she miss it and sendin' emojis\nNo time to kick it, I'm always in motion\nCan't say I miss you, I don't got emotions\nI'm on that back-when-I slept-on-the-floor shit\nI'm on that me-and-the-bro-kick-a-door shit\nI'm on that back-when-I-stood-at-the-stove shit\nAin't goin' broke, I'm just back on my old shit\nI'm takin' drugs, I don't know how to cope it\nI know one thing, I'm never gon' be hopeless\nIf you tell 'em what was said, you a rodent\nDrive the new Corvette like it's stolen, yeah\nBrand new car is noisy, come through and it's roarin' (Skrrt)\nYou ain't gotta worry, don't care about your boyfriend\nSee me and get nervous, I damn near did it perfect\nWork hard and determine, it's safe to say I earned it, woah\nYeah, none of you guys get fly as me, woah\nMatter of fact, none of you guys get high as me, woah\nPost my drip up daily just so they can see, woah\nTurn me up some more so my haters can hear it\nBrand new car is noisy, come through and it's roarin' (Skrrt)\nYou ain't gotta worry, don't care about your boyfriend\nSee me and get nervous, I damn near did it perfect\nWork hard and determine, it's safe to say I earned it, woah\nYeah, none of you guys get fly as me, woah\nMatter of fact, none of you guys get high as me, woah\nPost my drip up daily just so they can see, woah\nTurn me up some more so my haters can hear it, woah"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easSum 2 Prove Lyrics\nYou know Lil Ced, that's my nigga, I made him a millionaire, fuck it, we\u2005all\u2005rich\nI ain't tryna\u2005have babies right now, so we\u2005fuck with the rubber, but I got a raw bitch\nKnow this money bring envy, you probably wan' be me, but bro, we can't beef 'bout no small shit\nOverseas, got the crowd doin' moshpits\nCan't believe that I'm still in the 'partments\nBusinessman, went and got me an office\nMillion-dollar deals, I get 'em often\nMe and Dolla was servin' on Sparks Street\nHot lil' jit, he gon' stay with the chopstick\nI got robbed, that shit made me a monster\nEviction notice, my sister, my mamas\nNow they houses as big as they want 'em\nI done ran up them motherfuckin' commas, look at lil' Dominique\nLivin' like we in a race, I might come in first or second, but I won't ever be last\nLately, I been in my bag\nBro told me don't take my foot off the gas\nIf they give you a inch, go'n and take you a mile\nI'ma shoot by myself like a technical foul\nCity to city, got girls goin' wild\nBetter not reach for my chain when I jump in the crowd\nLambo' so low, gotta squat\nWe finally made it, let's pop us some bottles\nI took the lead and let everyone follow\nThey know I'm runnin' it right to the bank\nThey want me to ease up, I didn't leave 'em any breathin' room, sorry, I told 'em, \"I can't\"\nHeard you a rat, so you know what's gon' happen whenever we catch you, I run with them snakes\nPeep all the moves I been makin', by time I get forty, I gotta be one of them greats\nWatch how I move with this paper, I know if I slip up one time they gon' try to come take it\nReal as it get and these niggas be fakin', I don't want they vibes, so they hand I ain't shakin'\nShe on that '42 straight with no chaser\nI'm tryna get out of here and go taste her, yeah\nYou might also like\nYeah, my diamonds be VV's (VV's)\nThey don't wan' see us on TV unless it's the news\nI got somethin' to prove (Somethin' to prove)\nYeah, I'm young, but got somethin' to lose (Somethin' to lose)\nIn the street, I done paid all my dues (Yeah)\nNo extortion, ain't talking 'bout literally (Nah)\nI be walkin' on beats, is you hearin' me? (Huh?)\nI just pray that my kids be a bigger me, they can't get rid of me\nMy diamonds be VV's (VV's)\nThey don't wan' see us on TV unless it's the news\nI got somethin' to prove (Somethin' to prove)\nYeah, I'm young, but got somethin' to lose (Somethin' to lose)\nIn the street, I done paid all my dues (Yeah)\nNo extortion, ain't talking 'bout literally (Nah)\nI be walkin' on beats, is you hearin' me? (Huh?)\nI just pray that my kids be a bigger me, they can't get rid of me\n\nWake up every day, somebody harrassin' me\nI got rich, they need money, they askin' me\nI was sittin' in jail, they ain't look out for me\nOnes who need me them same ones who doubted me\nI been handlin' my own, they can vouch for me\nHead way down with me, know that she proud of me\nTurn the heat up, ain't nobody hot as me\nEverywhere dollars be, that's how I gotta be\nI done gave her the world, now she not leavin'\nSay she love me to death, told her, \"Stop breathin'\"\nHe try do what I do, but we not even\nI want all of the beef, I am not vegan\nBoy, you said it was smoke, nigga, stop speakin'\n'Ventador, drop the top, I can't stop speedin'\nTryna see if this bitch hit the top speed\nHit the bitch from the back, have her knock knee\nCall me Baby Hov, I control the rock\nIf the rap slow, I control the block\nYeah, I'm really it, and you niggas not\nGot a couple coupes, I can drop the top\nI done made it, nigga, all these digits comin' in\nI'm savin' for the bigger picture, know one day I'll need 'em\nMight as well get used to me\nMy biggest fear is endin' up a used-to-be, yeah\nYeah, my diamonds be VV's (VV's)\nThey don't wan' see us on TV unless it's the news\nI got somethin' to prove (Somethin' to prove)\nYeah, I'm young, but got somethin' to lose (Somethin' to lose)\nIn the street, I done paid all my dues (Yeah)\nNo extortion, ain't talking 'bout literally (Nah)\nI be walkin' on beats, is you hearin' me? (Huh?)\nI just pray that my kids be a bigger me, they can't get rid of me\nMy diamonds be VV's (VV's)\nThey don't wan' see us on TV unless it's the news\nI got somethin' to prove (Somethin' to prove)\nYeah, I'm young, but got somethin' to lose (Somethin' to lose)\nIn the street, I done paid all my dues (Yeah)\nNo extortion, ain't talking 'bout literally (Nah)\nI be walkin' on beats, is you hearin' me? (Huh?)\nI just pray that my kids be a bigger me, they can't get rid of me"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsLife Goes On Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\n\nTrackhawk Jeep goes too fast (Too fast)\nI don't even wear no seatbelt (Seatbelt)\nBad lil' bitch got no breasts (No breasts)\nUpgrade, now she got D-cups (D-cups)\nHop out the Range, I'm glowin' (Glowin')\nWho is Lil Baby? He goin' in (Goin' in)\nMan, these old rappers gettin' borin' (Borin')\nThey be takin' shots, I ignored 'em (Ignored 'em)\nSend that pack to the hood while I'm tourin' (Tourin')\nMakin' plays out of town like I'm Jordan (Jordan)\nNeed to go get your ho 'cause she whorin' (Whorin')\nIf her ball come my way, I'ma score it (Score it)\nLamborghini, I don't want no Porsches (Porsches)\nI'm on fire, don't touch me, I'm scorchin' (Scorchin')\nHad to fix all my teeth, I went porcelain (Porcelain)\nPut the town on my back, I'm a horseman (Horseman)\nOne more year, I'ma make it to Forbes' List (Forbes' List)\nThey love me in the Bay like E-40 (40)\nI be sittin' exotic on Moreland (Moreland)\nAin't no strings attached, keepin' it cordless (Cordless)\nShe keep callin', but I keep ignorin' it (Ignorin' it)\nAin't no stoppin', I'm keepin' it, floorin' it (Nawl)\nMan, these niggas can't stop me, I'm goin' in (Nawl)\nMan, these niggas can't stop me, I'm goin' in (Nawl)\nYou might also like\nEvery time the pack get gone, I get another load ('Nother load)\nMy main bitch tryna leave me 'lone 'cause I fucked another ho ('Nother ho)\nI'm like, \"Baby, I know I'm wrong, but this just how life goes\" (How life goes)\nAnd I know these niggas'd be happy if I let you go (Oh, no, no)\nGot me walkin' on a thin line on my tippy toes (Tippy toes)\nMan, this shit crazy, different city with some different hoes, here we go\nEvery time the pack get gone, I get another load ('Nother load)\nMy main bitch tryna leave me 'lone 'cause I fucked another ho ('Nother ho)\nI'm like, \"Baby, I know I'm wrong, but this just how life goes\" (How life goes)\nAnd I know these niggas'd be happy if I let you go (Let you go)\nGot me walkin' on a thin line on my tippy toes (Tippy toes)\nMan, this shit crazy, different city with some different hoes, here we go\n\nTryna spend a whole M on some clothes (Clothes)\nGot a bonus, I sold out a show (Show)\nGunna hot like a pot on the stove\nYellow AP on all of my hoes (Hoes)\nI like when that white on her toes (Toes)\nPicture me ridin' around in that Rolls (Royce)\nI put some ice on my wrist, it was swole (Swole)\nI ain't got time to lay up with you hoes (Hoes)\n\nAll of these drugs in my body\nI gotta pay somebody keep checkin' my pulse\nWalk in the club with no warning take care of that money\nThey swing on the pole (Pole)\nWater on me like Dasani ('Sani)\nI shine when it's sunny, this platinum and rose (Rose)\nGunna Gunna out the streets\nWhen I go to DC, I'ma fuck with the mo (mo)\nEvery time the pack get gone, I get another load ('Nother load)\nMy main bitch tryna leave me 'lone 'cause I fucked another ho ('Nother ho)\nI'm like, \"Baby, I know I'm wrong, but this just how life goes\" (How life goes)\nAnd I know these niggas'd be happy if I let you go (Oh, no, no)\nGot me walkin' on a thin line on my tippy toes (Tippy toes)\nMan, this shit crazy, different city with some different hoes, here we go\nEvery time the pack get gone, I get another load ('Nother load)\nMy main bitch tryna leave me 'lone 'cause I fucked another ho ('Nother ho)\nI'm like, \"Baby, I know I'm wrong, but this just how life goes\" (How life goes)\nAnd I know these niggas'd be happy if I let you go (Let you go)\nGot me walkin' on a thin line on my tippy toes (Tippy toes)\nMan, this shit crazy, different city with some different hoes, here we go\n\nMan, this shit crazy, different city with some different hoes (Hoes)\nI can switch my girls up the same way that I change my clothes (Okay)\nMan, it's crazy, all blue backend in the envelope (Let's get it)\nAnd you know I'm never lackin', got a new whip that's up in traffic\nWater, water, water on my Patek (Woah), in a automatic\nI drink water when I'm fastin' (Water), you's a has-been\nThey would love me in a casket, I can't have it\nBoy, I'm far from average (Yeah), better wait your turn, better get in line\n\nEvery time the pack get gone, I get another load ('Nother load)\nMy main bitch tryna leave me 'lone 'cause I fucked another ho ('Nother ho)\nI'm like, \"Baby, I know I'm wrong, but this just how life goes\" (How life goes)\nAnd I know these niggas'd be happy if I let you go (Oh, no, no)\nGot me walkin' on a thin line, on my tippy toes (Tippy toes)\nMan, this shit crazy, different city with some different hoes, here we go\nEvery time the pack get gone, I get another load ('Nother load)\nMy main bitch tryna leave me 'lone 'cause I fucked another ho ('Nother ho)\nTryna spend a whole M on some clothes (Clothes)\nGot a bonus, I sold out a show (Show)\nGunna hot like a pot on the stove\nYellow AP on all of my hoes (Hoes)\nI like when that white on her toes (Toes)\nPicture me ridin' around in that Rolls (Rolls)\nI put some ice on my wrist, it was swole (Swole)\nI ain't got time to lay up with you hoes (Hoes)"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsMy Dawg Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\nBaby\n4 Pockets\nYeah, that's my dawg, yeah\n\nYeah, that's my dawg for sure (My dawg)\nYeah, that's my dawg (My dawg)\nYeah, that's my dawg for sure (My dawg)\nYeah, that's my dawg (My dawg)\nMe and my dawg (Me and my dawg)\nWe gave 'em two in a row (We gave 'em two in a row)\nMe and my dawg (Me and my dawg)\nWe gave 'em two in a row (We gave 'em two in a row)\nDeja keep on callin' (Callin')\nShe say she ready to pull up (Pull up)\nAs soon as I get there, walk in\nI'ma put her in a full nelson (Yeah)\nI'm on my way, I'm goin' fast\nI'm comin' home to get you (I'm comin' home to get you)\nI'm on my way, I'm goin' fast\nI'm comin' home to get you (I'm on my way)\n\nHundred thousand dollars on my neck\n'Nother fifty thousand on my wrist\nEvery nigga with me real rich\nNiggas havin' pressure 'bout a bitch\nI got all my cases dismissed\nI don't go back and forth on the internet\nReal niggas don't get into that\nI'm tryna get in her mouth, for real\nI'm tryna get in her mouth (Yeah)\nMe and my dawgs, me and my dawgs\nWe tryna run in your house (Yeah, yeah)\nWe want them bricks, we want the money (Give me that)\nYou can keep all of the pounds (Give me that)\nI can't be fuckin' these lil bitty bitches\n'Cause they be runnin' they mouth (Yeah)\nI'm really runnin' this town\nFrank Mueller watch for my wrist\n'Nother thirty thousand in my fit\nCodeine all in my piss (Ooh)\nI don't take drugs no more\nBaby mama trippin' 'bout a bitch\nI'm just tryna take care my kid\nI been in the trenches gettin' rich\nI don't know another way to go\nYou might also like\nYeah, that's my dawg for sure (My dawg)\nYeah, that's my dawg (My dawg)\nYeah, that's my dawg for sure (My dawg)\nYeah, that's my dawg (My dawg)\nMe and my dawg (Me and my dawg)\nWe gave 'em two in a row (We gave 'em two in a row)\nMe and my dawg (Me and my dawg)\nWe gave 'em two in a row (We gave 'em two in a row)\nDeja keep on callin' (Callin')\nShe say she ready to pull up (Pull up)\nAs soon as I get there, walk in\nI'ma put her in a full nelson (Yeah)\nI'm on my way, I'm goin' fast\nI'm comin' home to get you (I'm comin' home to get you)\nI'm on my way, I'm goin' fast\nI'm comin' home to get you (I'm on my way)\n\nBust down Rollies for the clique\nGot these bitches dancing on the dick\nThey gon' wait in line for this drip\nI'ma give her mine, then dip\nI'ma try to kill her for the real\nThirty thousand dollars in my ear\nI ain't gotta sign no deal\nMade a half a mil' last year\nI just came home from the can\n20 days, whole hundred bands\nGot a nigga feelin' like the man\nAll these bitches knowin' who I am\nHit the ground runnin', I ain't playin'\nPut a hundred bricks in the van\nGive a thousand pounds to my man\nBlow the money fast as I can\nSigned to the streets, no advance\nBitches tryna rip me out my pants\n'Cause they heard a youngin' gettin' bands\nThey don't know that I ain't goin' for nothin'\nOnly gave the bitch a couple hundred\nBig dawg, nigga, you a runner\nRun off on the plug, change my number\nDrop top coupes for the summer\nYeah, that's my dawg for sure (My dawg)\nYeah, that's my dawg (My dawg)\nYeah, that's my dawg for sure (My dawg)\nYeah, that's my dawg (My dawg)\nMe and my dawg (Me and my dawg)\nWe gave 'em two in a row (We gave 'em two in a row)\nMe and my dawg (Me and my dawg)\nWe gave 'em two in a row (We gave 'em two in a row)\nDeja keep on callin' (Callin')\nShe say she ready to pull up (Pull up)\nAs soon as I get there, walk in\nI'ma put her in a full nelson (Yeah)\nI'm on my way, I'm goin' fast\nI'm comin' home to get you (I'm comin' home to get you)\nI'm on my way, I'm goin' fast\nI'm comin' home to get you (I'm on my way)\n\nDawgs\nJust me and my dawgs\nWe gon' take 'em down two in a row\nWe gon' take 'em down two in a row\nWe gon' take 'em down two in a row\nJust me and my dawgs\nI'ma put her in a full nelson\nAs soon as I get there, I'ma put her in a full nelson"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsPure Cocaine Lyrics\nWhen your wrist like this, you don't check the forecast\nEvery day it's gon' rain, yeah\nMade a brick through a brick, ain't whip up shit\nThis pure cocaine, yeah\nFrom the streets, but I got a little sense\nBut I had to go coupe, no brain (Coupe, no brain)\nAin't worried 'bout you, I'ma do what I do\nAnd I do my thing (Do my thing)\n\nBought her brand new shoes, told her kick rocks\nDon't stand too close, diamonds kickbox\nThink red means go so I don't stop\nI know they wish they could catch me, but keep wishin'\nYou think I done turned into a fiend for these bitches\nTryna stuff as much as I can in these britches\nMade your bitch fuck on my friend, it's no difference\nI ain't never popped no Xan, I sip sizzurp\nIf I ever have to tell on the gang, I won't do it\nIf I put it on a song, I seen it or been through it\nI can't put it in my song, I know how the feds move\nScream free all of the ahks but I ain't no FamGoon\nGave my mama ten bands, sent her to Canc\u00fan\nGot the crowd goin' dumb but I ain't no damn fool\nIf I went in there and did it and made it, you can too\nWe done came a long way from broke and sharing shoes\nYou might also like\nWhen your wrist like this, you don't check the forecast\nEvery day it's gon' rain, yeah\nMade a brick through a brick, ain't whip up shit\nThis pure cocaine, yeah\nFrom the streets, but I got a little sense\nBut I had to go coupe, no brain (Coupe, no brain)\nAin't worried 'bout you, I'ma do what I do\nAnd I do my thing (Do my thing)\nWhen your wrist like this, you don't check the forecast\nEvery day it's gon' rain, yeah\nMade a brick through a brick, ain't whip up shit\nThis pure cocaine, yeah\nFrom the streets, but I got a little sense\nBut I had to go coupe, no brain (Coupe, no brain)\nAin't worried 'bout you, I'ma do what I do\nAnd I do my thing (Do my thing)\n\nGot a quarter million dollars in a book bag\nNew Era, I'm a dope boy, no cap\nI'm living my best life for real\nJust left the dealership, no tag\nIf we opposite, it won't work, it won't last\nGet an opposite knocked off, toe tag\nAin't been home in a month, got my ho mad\nThey need me in the trap but I can't go back\nI jumped off the porch with a hundred dollar slab\nI got M's in the bank, give a damn what they think\nEvery vibe I ever shot my shot at, caught it\nEverything you ever seen me riding in, bought it\nBig dawg status, I ain't gotta sell drugs\nPut my craft into rap then I took off, yeah\nNew G-Wagen, no key, this a push-start\nI can hit the gas, make it disappear\nWhen your wrist like this, you don't check the forecast\nEvery day it's gon' rain, yeah\nMade a brick through a brick, ain't whip up shit\nThis pure cocaine, yeah\nFrom the streets, but I got a little sense\nBut I had to go coupe, no brain (Coupe, no brain)\nAin't worried 'bout you, I'ma do what I do\nAnd I do my thing (Do my thing)\nWhen your wrist like this, you don't check the forecast\nEvery day it's gon' rain, yeah\nMade a brick through a brick, ain't whip up shit\nThis pure cocaine, yeah\nFrom the streets, but I got a little sense\nBut I had to go coupe, no brain (Coupe, no brain)\nAin't worried 'bout you, I'ma do what I do\nAnd I do my thing (Do my thing)"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsReady Lyrics\nMetro Boomin want some more, nigga\n\nIn that fast thing, speedin' through the city (Skrrt, skrrt)\nPanoramic brain, and my dash digi' (Dash digi')\nMotherfuck the fame, all my niggas litty (Lit)\nBackwood to the face, I don't smoke no Philly (Nah)\nDrip, drippin' sauce like I'm chili (Sauce)\nLet that mink hang to the floor when it's chilly (It's chilly)\nI got three big booty broads at the Telly (The Telly)\nAnd they know from the start who was ready\n\nI can't fuck with none of y'all niggas, y'all disgust me\nWhen you with your maggot ass friends, don't discuss me\nFN with extended clip, I hope them try to rush me\nI hear 'em sayin' such and such, a nigga ain't gon' touch me\nBig body Benz, 'member I used to be dusty\nNow I want my money all hundreds in a rush please\nI was sellin' weed when they came out with White T\nNow I put a whole half a ticket on my white tee\nWhole hood poppin', other niggas, they don't like me\nMade her eat it up, she told her friend, \"He gon' wife me\"\nAll my niggas thoroughbred, I don't fuck with crossbreeds\nFree all of the bros down the road and on Rice Street\nYou might also like\nIn that fast thing, speedin' through the city (Skrrt, skrrt)\nPanoramic brain, and my dash digi' (Dash digi')\nMotherfuck the fame, all my niggas litty (Lit)\nBackwood to the face, I don't smoke no Philly (Nah)\nDrip, drippin' sauce like I'm chili (Sauce)\nLet that mink hang to the floor when it's chilly (It's chilly)\nI got three big booty broads at the Telly (The Telly)\nAnd they know from the start who was ready (Ready)\n\nPut some fine bitches in Margiel-y's (Margiel-y)\nTwo new glass tinted, these baguette-y's (Baguette-y)\nAin't gon' bash you bitches, I ain't petty (Nah)\nJust know we fuckin', we ain't goin' steady (Goin' steady)\nI don't wanna sleep, I need more Addys (Need more Addy)\nI ain't have no kid but I'm her daddy (I'm her daddy)\nBetter shake her ass like it's Magic (Like it's Magic)\nTwenties in my pocket look like cabbage (Yeah)\nCarats everywhere, I'm a rabbit (I'm a rabbit)\nI ain't Shawty Lo, but what's happenin'? (What's happenin'?)\nWe was taught to go, keep that cannon (That cannon)\nI'm on fuckin go, I can't panic (I can't panic)\n\nIn that fast thing, speedin' through the city (Skrrt, skrrt)\nPanoramic brain, and my dash digi' (Dash digi')\nMotherfuck the fame, all my niggas litty (Lit)\nBackwood to the face, I don't smoke no Philly (Nah)\nDrip, drippin' sauce like I'm chili (Sauce)\nLet that mink hang to the floor when it's chilly (It's chilly)\nI got three big booty broads at the Telly (The Telly)\nAnd they know from the start who was ready\nMoney conversations, check my feng shui\nI buy Dolce Gabbana, Chanel a month straight\nSupermodel, her body gon' be my entree\nI been runnin' with hitters, my youngins gun slang\nCars up to date, brand new Wraith\nMy life circle, mines ain't straight\nBills ain't late, paid no notes\nI ain't no joke, they want smoke\nWe exotic, start a riot, we gon' ride\n.223's, drakes outside\nWe don't get tired, we gon' die"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsLeaked Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\nWe ain't talked in like a week straight\nI been all on the interstate\nI been tryna go and get this cake\nYeah, yeah\n\nShe in her feelings because we ain\u2019t speaking, but she don\u2019t even call a nigga\nShe gon' get nasty whenever I see her, she tryna suck all them niggas\nHeard you been doing business with the opps, fuck you and all them niggas\nWe gon' keep riding around with them Glocks until we find them niggas\n\nThey thinkin' I lost it, remind them niggas\nI can get flyer than niggas\nHundred thousand in a Gucci bookbag, they thinkin' I signed a nigga\nI leveled my life up, this Rollie I got on don't tick tock\nStill on that bullshit, if you pull up on me, let the stick talk\nI'm in L.A. with the vibes, they in the cut getting high\nShe tryna get in my ride, she tryna turn up tonight, yeah\nI was running up cash, yeah, I had ran up a bag\nAnd they started gettin' mad, yeah\nBut I didn't get mad, I just kept getting cash, yeah\nNow I'm in my bag, yeah, now I'm in my bag, yeah\nShe wanna get with me, she know that I'm sticky, but I'm in my bag now\nShe wasn't fucking with me, she didn't come around, she wishing she had now\nAnd I'm in my bag now\nI'm in the bag, the Goyard to be exact\nThree hundred racks inside it, and that ain't no cap\nI could've bought a Wraith today, yeah yeah\nI ran it up, they supposed to hate\nI'm digging this lifestyle\nWater drippin' on me like I'm a faucet\nThe crew with me right now\nYou can play, just proceed with caution\nI popped the wrong pill, now I'm nauseous\nI need to get off this drank, it's a problem\nI took a Tesla and landed on Mars\u200b\nLord please wake me up tomorrow\nYou might also like\nShe in her feelings because we ain\u2019t speaking, but she don\u2019t even call a nigga\nShe gon' get nasty whenever I see her, she tryna suck all a nigga\nHeard you been doing business with the opps, fuck you and all them niggas\nWe gon' keep riding around with them Glocks until we find them niggas\nShe in her feelings because we ain\u2019t speaking, but she don\u2019t even call a nigga\nShe gon' get nasty whenever I see her, she tryna suck all a nigga\nHeard you been doing business with the opps, fuck you and all them niggas\nWe gon' keep riding around with them Glocks until we find them niggas\n\nThey know they can't beat me, so they tryna leave me\nAnd she tryna leave me, but I ain't gon' let her\nDiamonds on Fiji, I'm running with QC\nAnd Reebok endorse me, went up a new level\nI'm loving this lifestyle and niggas wanna be me\nI know they won't catch up, but I ain't gon' let 'em\nAs soon as the money get up to a million, put it in the ground and then go buy a new shovel\nHow you gon' be in yo feelings when I'm in my feelings?\nWe both can't be in our feelings\nI ain't gon' lie when you thinkin' I did it, I did it\nIt's something 'bout your intuition\nAin't telling you no lies, I'm tired of seeing you cry\nCome here girl, let me wipe your eye\nEverything gon' be alright, yeah\nShe in her feelings because we ain\u2019t speaking, but she don\u2019t even call a nigga\nShe gon' get nasty whenever I see her, she tryna suck all a nigga\nHeard you been doing business with the opps, fuck you and all them niggas\nWe gon' keep riding around with them Glocks until we find them niggas\nShe in her feelings because we ain\u2019t speaking, but she don\u2019t even call a nigga\nShe gon' get nasty whenever I see her, she tryna suck all a nigga\nHeard you been doing business with the opps, fuck you and all them niggas\nWe gon' keep riding around with them Glocks until we find them niggas"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easT\u00fcrk\u00e7eCommercial Lyrics\n(Tay Keith, this too hard)\n(Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up)\n\nI paid some extra before we\u2005even\u2005come out\nAnd don't\u2005even wear it to show I\u2005ain't playin'\nI hit the bitch and I gave her some\u205fracks\nAnd\u205fI\u205fpull up my\u205fpants, she know\u205fI ain't stayin'\nGo on a store run and get rubber bands\nI done got rich, I done put on my mans\nChoppers in traffic, that's just how I'm livin'\nThey say that I'm trippin', they wouldn't understand\nShe take a trip, she come back with a tan\nI take a trip, I come back with them bands\nWhen I was dealin', it really was killin' 'em\nHad 'em competin', tryna see what I'm payin'\nShe throw a hoodie on soon as we land\nShe don't like pics, I got too many fans\nI'm runnin' shit, I can do what I want\nAnd it's really a limit, you do what you can\nI found the booth and I put that shit up\n'Fore I run out of cash, they gonna run out of land\nI fell in love with this bitch 'cause her head was amazing\nI swear I don't even know her name\nI'm 'bout to takeoff, I gave 'em a chance\nThey gave me ten M&M's on advance\nThought I'd be trappin' forever, but God came and blessed me\nI guess it was part of the plan\nHow he on fire, but he cool as a fan?\nCan't get at you, we gon' get at your man\nThey can relate to me 'cause I be poppin' it\nPut in they face, let 'em see what I'm sayin'\nI'm rockin' shows like I play with a band\nFree all the bros, know I would if I can\nIf I don't mean it, I swear I ain't sayin' it\n'Fore I was 21, swear I was savage, smashin'\nYou might also like\nHold up, who got Backwoods? I need roll up\nDior store can't keep up with me\nI'm spendin' thousands like money is nothin' to me\nI'm never comin' back, them people under me\nNot the fans, yeah, the haters\nLotta bands on the table\nThey say I went commercial, I ain't know it\nThey want me catch a murder, I ain't goin' back\nPlay myself and my position, who doin' that?\n\nWe got FN with extensions, we throwin' that\nHer ass got my full attention, she throwin' that\nNiggas talkin' way too much, I ain't goin' back\nAnd forth with niggas 'cause these niggas be holdin' racks\nOn the real, yeah, we know you don't own them racks\nFour pockets full, push 'em down, they start pokin' back\nI turned eight million right until I'm a quarterback\nSpent a million like I'm tryna bring Kobe back (24, woo)\nI'm ready, I'm ready, I use the crockpot like it's Betty\nThey say the drop hot and it's ready\nMight stretch it out, but it ain't fetti (Yes)\nSay my dawg doin' time\nBut I know he ain't gonna snitch 'cause it's still some shit he didn't tell me\nMy dawg stabbed his celly\nHe told me the whole story over the celly (Brr, hello?)\nWent up on my price, in my pocket like Kelly\nFucked her in the telly, no I can't not say who, no telly\nMy head gettin' heavy\nAnd you know I still got Balmains on my ass (Woo)\nNo, I can't do no Amiris\nSaid I'm takin' trips, long flights, they scary\nShe said her birthday in March, okay, cool, so that means you an Aries\nI told her, \"Gotta go,\" she said, \"You serious?\"\nDiamonds cold as December, my vibe Sagittarius\nHold up, who got Backwoods? I need roll up (Haha, period, period, slatt, woo)\nDior store can't keep up with me\nI'm spendin' thousands like money is nothin' to me\nI'm never comin' back, them people under me\nNot the fans, yeah, the haters\nLotta bands on the table\nThey say I went commercial, I ain't know it\nThey want me catch a murder, I ain't goin' back\nPlay myself and my position, who doin' that?\n\nI can switch up and come back another way\nIf the vibe ain't right, come back another day\nBiggest dripper, I start up a tidal wave\nRemix weed, we put it in a microwave\nBatch for twenty-three like I know Michael J\nHe can say what he want, but he gotta pay\nUsed to hide all the guns where my mama stay\nSell my drugs 'round the corner\nI pay all these bills, I'm a grownup\nMy cars a lil' different, I own 'em\nI ain't with no leasin', my bitch tellin' me I need credit\nIt's loud and clear if I said it\nI come from the gutter, I spent me a hundred on Chevys\nYou can take me out the hood, but you can't take the hood out of me\nKnow the hood proud of me\nI Givenchyed my tee, went and upgrade my teeth\nYeah, I dropped out of school, but that paper on me\nHold up, who got Backwoods? I need roll up\nDior store can't keep up with me\nI'm spendin' thousands like money is nothin' to me\nI'm never comin' back, them people under me\nNot the fans, yeah, the haters\nLotta bands on the table\nThey say I went commercial, I ain't know it\nThey want me catch a murder, I ain't goin' back\nPlay myself and my position, who doin' that?"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsTo the Top Lyrics\nYeah\nFree G-Five, on a G5\nYeah yeah yeah\n\nToast to 'em all\nShe said she love me but I know the truth, she been fuckin' my dawg (my dawg and all)\nLately I been feelin' crazy so I ain't been answerin' calls\nI just been gettin' the money and savin' it\nKeepin' my back on the wall\nI'm never gon' fall\nStraight to the money no stop\nI'ma go straight to the stars\nFree all of my niggas sittin' in the cell blocks\nI'ma give it all I got\nI'ma go straight to the stars\nCondo at the top floor\nWe was so high, you can ask God\nYou can ask God\n\nI know they hate it, I see they faces, they mad I made it\nI'm on they ass, I'm gettin' this bag, I ran it up fast\nStand up in they chest no apology\nMama sent a text that she proud of me\nYoungins in the hood watchin' out for me\nMoney all colors like Monopoly\nPark the Jeep, hop in the Vet\nStay on they ass, stay on they neck\nKeep me a check\nViper came yellow, I painted it red\nAnd I paid cash, you heard what I said\nGoin' crazy, I been feelin' the rage\nLast year I was sittin' in the cage\nThis year I'm goin' all the way\nTaking drugs, tryna ease the pain\nI see 'em watchin'\nThey on my drip, they tryna follow the wave\nThey on my page\nThey know that I'm paid, ain't been in town in days\nMost of these niggas they old news\nAll these bitches been ran through\nI'ma save all the fifties and keep the hundreds\nThen spend all the dubs on getting money\nStraight from the 'jects to a jet\nWe been gettin' real fly\nFree G-Five, on a G5\nBalmain denim, no Levis\nStrapped to a T, who want war with us\nDually sit up like an armored truck\nI brought it out, it's a one of one\nNigga screaming gang, they ain't one of us\nYou might also like\nToast to 'em all\nShe said she love me but I know the truth, she been fuckin' my dawg (my dawg and all)\nLately I been feelin' crazy so I ain't been answerin' calls\nI just been gettin' the money and savin' it\nKeepin' my back on the wall\nI'm never gon' fall\nStraight to the money no stop\nI'ma go straight to the top\nFree all of my niggas sittin' in the cell blocks\nI'ma give it all I got\nI'ma go straight to the stars\nCondo at the top floor\nWe was so high, you can ask God\nYou can ask God\n\nDraped down in Gucci, she rock Givenchy, she matchin' my fly\nI know it's wrong, but fuck if it's wrong, I don't wanna be right\nLet's take a trip, if we leave now, we can land tonight\nWe gon' take a trip to Dubai, guarantee you won't see nobody\nNobody safe where I come from\nYoung niggas goin' straight dumb\nFifty hollow tips in each drum\nThrowing fours up with lil one\nHoppin' out trucks, we suited up, we ready for war, yeah\nYeah that's my boy, that's really my dawg\nWe went from boys to men\nStraight to the money no stop\nI'ma give it all I got\nI'ma give it all I got\nI'ma give it all I got\nStraight to the money no stop\nI'ma go straight to the top\nI'ma go straight to the top\nI'ma go straight to the top"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00easIn A Minute Lyrics\n(Damn, Kai, you goin' crazy)\n\nI be in the loop, she be in a group (Yeah)\nBrodie want her friend, throw 'em alley-oop (Yeah)\nTurned somethin' to nothin', bruh, I'm livin' proof\nHow can I lose when we the who's who's?\nStill runnin' 'round with Mohawk, jet ready, pack the Goyard\nPeople probably think I show off, I ain't even give it yet\nRunnin' up a silly check, stayin' off the internet\nShare the stage with Billie Eilish, turnt at any given time\nPersonal partners pillow talkin' 'cause I got rich without 'em\nOnly thing they should be sayin' is, \"Baby keep it solid\"\nWe ain't even deep as we used to be, this shit slick, divided\nBruh ain't got no hustle or nothin', so he gon' stick to violence\nI be known to run down, I'm dialed in, so I can't speak about it\nShe know I'm a gangster, she love me, I bring the freak up out her\nCan't play with me, you know I come trim, I'm in a different league\nI'm tired of showin' what I can get done, what you gon' do for me?\nForty-thousand miles up in the air, only time I get some Z's\nFull-court press, foot on they neck, and I can't let 'em breathe\nBlood, sweat, and tears come with this check, it ain't nowhere near easy\nHad to fall back, you know how that go, we only speakin' briefly\nHope I'm not too much to handle, city nigga from Atlanta\nI spent my last check on ammo, this is not a regular Lambo\nHundred thousand dollars kit, could've put down on another Lambo\nDon't be in the mix, I built this shit forever havin' say so\nThis shit gon' get serious about my money, this ain't no fuckin' Play-Doh\nBrodie down for double homicide, I try to tell him, \"Lay low\"\nC don't like to drive, but he spin good, I'm on the way to Clayco\nAK-47s in the spots before they made the Draco\nYou might also like\nI'm just tryna ball and live, hundred mill', I'm calling dibs\nI'm the boss, pay all the bills, I'm the golden child for real\nGo off in this bitch, I will, I been on my grind for years\nAnd I'm out here grinding still, I need equity to sign the deal\nI'm just tryna ball and live, hundred mill', I'm calling dibs\nI'm the boss, pay all the bills, I'm the golden child for real\nGo off in this bitch, I will, I been on my grind for years\nAnd I'm out here grinding still, I need equity to sign the deal\n\nOverbuying cars, I snatch the Brabus just for motivation\nShootout at the spot today, tomorrow, we in a new location\nFree all of the guys, I hope y'all beat the case or get probation\nStash it at my mama house, four hundred bands in the ventilation\nNow look how I'm living, I bought a house for the money to stay at\nRight when niggas think that I got soft, I'ma pull up and spray at\nLiving like a don, might smoke a blunt in the back of the Maybach\nPull up like your mama with the switch, \"Why the fuck would you say that?\u201d\nYou can do it first, I'ma do it worst, gotta double the pay back Never take it personal, show no mercy, bruh taught me that way back\nCondo to get off, I was always taught, \"Don't tell hoes where you stay at\"\nKeep a stash house, you can't take nothing to the spot where you lay at\nNever be a bother, if you off me, no problem, just say that\nNever runnin' off, so if I owe you, I got you, I'll pay that\nGive this shit my all, so when I'm old, I can chill and just lay back\nReally from the bottom so the trenches is where I feel safe at\nI'm just tryna ball and live, hundred mill', I'm calling dibs\nI'm the boss, pay all the bills, I'm the golden child for real\nGo off in this bitch, I will, I been on my grind for years\nAnd I'm out here grinding still, I need equity to sign the deal\nI'm just tryna ball and live, hundred mill', I'm calling dibs\nI'm the boss, pay all the bills, I'm the golden child for real\nGo off in this bitch, I will, I been on my grind for years\nAnd I'm out here grinding still, I need equity to sign the deal"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsAll of a Sudden Lyrics\nUgh ugh ugh\nFed shit\nAyy, gangster shit only nigga\nLil Baby, what's poppin'?\nDMac got me too bangin'\nAll four of my pockets full now\n\nI can't be totin' no handguns (Glock)\nUnless that bitch come with a thirty (With a thirty)\nI can't be fuckin' these dog hoes\nUnless that bitch come with a buddy (With a friend)\nI can't be drivin' no regular cars (Skrt)\nThat bitch gotta come with a button (A button)\nI was broke like a while back\nNow I'm up all of a sudden\nI can't be rappin' for free, they gotta send me the budget (Send me that)\nI can't be fuckin' these hoes raw, I had to slip on a rubber (Slip in that)\nI can't be rockin' no plain jane, both of my watches be flooded\nI can't be drinkin' on regular soda, all of my cups be muddy\nI just came home with nothin' (Woo)\nNow I'm up all of a sudden (Hey)\nNow I'm up all of a sudden (Hey)\nNow I'm up all of a sudden (Hey, hey)\nYou might also like\nMoneybagg, Moneybagg (Fuck with it)\nI'm in the booth with a money bag\nHere go the bricks, where the money at?\nGive me a load, I ain't comin' back\nI make 'em shoot where your stomach at\nWe gon' pull up where your mama at\nRunnin' through hoes like a running back\nWe can fuck but you can't call this number back\nIf you knew better, baby you'd do better\nI got plenty hoes, call me Hugh Hefner\nI'm with Moneybagg, we went four federal\nFour Pockets, Bread Gang, who better?\n\nI can't be totin' no handguns\nUnless that bitch come with a thirty\nI can't be fuckin' these dog hoes\nUnless that bitch come with a buddy\nI can't be drivin' no regular cars\nThat bitch gotta come with a button\nI was broke like a while back\nNow I'm up all of a sudden\nI can't be rappin' for free, they gotta send me the budget\nI can't be fuckin' these hoes raw, I had to slip on a rubber\nI can't be rockin' no plain jane, both of my watches be flooded\nI can't be drinkin' on regular soda, all of my cups be muddy\nIf I said fuck you I meant that\nI'm whippin' this coupe, I ain't rent that\nThe shit that you savin', I spent that\nAnd if you want smoke you can get that\nI just want proof of the backend\nAny time I fuck her I hit from the back end\nI'm pullin' her hair while I dig in her\nShe like hold up baby, keep my tracts in\nI can't hit that bitch raw, got a glove on me\nI'm in the trap with the drugs on me\nI just went bonkers all up, Exclusive Game\nFly as fuck like a dove on me\nDiamonds wet like a tub on me\nHurricane Harvey, flood on me\nLeft the spot with a dub on me\nWalk in the spot, bitches tug on me\n\nI can't be totin' no handguns\nUnless that bitch come with a thirty\nI can't be fuckin' these dog hoes\nUnless that bitch come with a buddy\nI can't be drivin' no regular cars\nThat bitch gotta come with a button\nI was broke like a while back\nNow I'm up all of a sudden\nI can't be rappin' for free, they gotta send me the budget\nI can't be fuckin' these hoes raw, I had to slip on a rubber\nI can't be rockin' no plain jane, both of my watches be flooded\nI can't be drinkin' on regular soda, all of my cups be muddy\nI just came home with nothin'\nNow I'm up all of a sudden\nHey, now I'm up all of the sudden, hey\nNow I'm up all of the sudden\nI just came home with nothin'\nNow I'm up all of a sudden\nHey, now I'm up all of a sudden, hey\nNow I'm up all of a sudden"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsTime Lyrics\nYoungin from the project fucked around and got it poppin\nI'm like fuck a Maserati, bought my bitch a Bentley truck\nG-5 my blood brother he be throwing B\u2019s up\nAnd me, I got Chanel swag, you know I be C'd up\nI paid cash for every car, used be the laughing stock\nKept it real, that's why I don't flock\nLook at me, I'm on the chart\nI don't look down but I'm on top\nI don't entertain any clout\nPlay with me, you gon' get shot for real\nNow they can't resist us, hear 'em tryna diss us\nReally need to miss us, prolly with your bitch, bruh\nI bought her purse off a piece of my endorsement\nRicher than my classmates, she know how my kids taste\nNow I'm on this cash race, I can't come in last place\nI done finally went legit, accountants, I'm a taxpayer\nSo you know that mean I'm goin' hard 'til my last day\nStill can get a thousand pounds a week, the gas way\n\nI got six watches, I'm ahead of time\nI\u2019m goin' all out if it's 'bout mine\nI\u2019m gettin' my shine on, I been on my grind\nFeel like I'm different, I'm one of a kind\nBuy her a Birkin Bag, keep her up to par\nBaby, you look better naked, you should take it off\nHad to play my role, now I'm takin' charge\nJust got off parole, made the brodie take the charge\nYou might also like\nBendin' through in that Phantom with them sticks, yeah (Skrrt, skrrt)\nAll these blues, niggas asking am I Crip yet? (Cuzzo)\nMake a move we X you out, ain't goin' tic tac (Brrt)\nPut a tag on your toe for all that chit chat (Yeah, yeah)\nThe richest nigga in my city, that's a big fact (Big fact)\nAnd we don't do them lil' planes, we on the big jet (Big jet)\nMy dawg still movin' that 'caine, and he ain't quit yet (He ain't quit yet)\nI had to tell him when he came, \"Don't bring no bricks back\"\nFeel like I'm the chosen one (Woah)\nRolls truck, I ordered one (Woah)\nI ain't mean to buy that bitch a watch, but I bought her one (Ah)\nRichard Millie cost a quarter milli', I got more than one (Yeah)\nFN on me lighter than a bitch, feel like a water gun (Gang)\n\nI got six watches, I'm ahead of time\nI\u2019m goin' all out if it's 'bout mine\nI\u2019m gettin' my shine on, I been on my grind\nFeel like I'm different, I'm one of a kind\nBuy her a Birkin Bag, keep her up to par\nBaby, you look better naked, you should take it off\nHad to play my role, now I'm takin' charge\nJust got off parole, made the brodie take the charge\n\nLivin' like a pornstar\nRollie, 7 pointers\nOpps finna join us but we ain't switching sides\nNeck look like a freezer, ain't savin' no skeezer\nThey gave me a reason, now they gotta die\nI don't want no smoke with you if you don't want no smoke with me\nBut dawg if you want smoke with me, we switchin' shifts, sleep and creep\nI did what they couldn't do, guess that's why they mad at me\nBut what's up with yo vibe, dawg, why she keep on addin' me?\nThis my strategy\nKeep on stackin' Gs, make 'em proud of me\nI went Prada Tees, I went Prada jeans\nI want Prada fleece, I'm from poverty\nReal talk\nI got six watches, I'm ahead of time\nI\u2019m goin' all out if it's 'bout mine\nI\u2019m gettin' my shine on, I been on my grind\nFeel like I'm different, I'm one of a kind\nBuy her a Birkin Bag, keep her up to par\nBaby, you look better naked, you should take it off\nHad to play my role, now I'm takin' charge\nJust got off parole, made the brodie take the charge"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsNever Needed No Help Lyrics\nEarl on the beat\nYeah, know what I'm sayin'\nKnow what I'm sayin'? When you create the wave and the vibe\nYou know what I'm sayin'? You is the vibe and the wave\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\nNever let these niggas catch up once you caught up\nKnow what I'm sayin'?\nYeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah\nUh-huh, uh-huh\n\nI can do bad on my own and good by myself\nI never needed no help\nI needed you niggas, you wasn\u2019t right there\nYou need me, lil' nigga, I\u2019m still gon' be here\nMy vision was blurry and now I see clear\nYou wouldn\u2019t believe what I made in a year\nDraped in designer, I\u2019m sticky as hell\nI run Atlanta, I should be the mayor\nI can do bad on my own and good by myself\nI never needed no help\nI needed you niggas, you wasn\u2019t right there\nYou need me, lil' nigga, I\u2019m still gon' be here\nMy vision was blurry and now I see clear\nYou wouldn\u2019t believe what I made in a year\nDraped in designer, I\u2019m sticky as hell\nI run Atlanta, I should be the mayor\nYou might also like\nDraped in designer I\u2019m sticky as hell\nWhenever we argue I buy her Chanel\nWhenever I ain't rappin' I'm sellin' this bail\nMy nigga got caught, I just hope he don\u2019t tell\nIf you can sit quiet then I\u2019ll pay your bail\nThey not gon' snitch if they send me to hell\nI put in overtime to get these M\u2019s\nBeen with the same gang since I was lil'\n\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, lightspeed fast, yeah (yeah)\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, lightspeed fast, yeah (yeah)\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, lightspeed fast, yeah (yeah)\nLightspeed fast, yeah (yeah)\n\nI can do bad on my own and good by myself\nI never needed no help\nI needed you niggas, you wasn\u2019t right there\nYou need me, lil' nigga, I\u2019m still gon' be here\nMy vision was blurry and now I see clear\nYou wouldn\u2019t believe what I made in a year\nDraped in designer, I\u2019m sticky as hell\nI run Atlanta, I should be the mayor\nI can do bad on my own and good by myself\nI never needed no help\nI needed you niggas, you wasn\u2019t right there\nYou need me, lil' nigga, I\u2019m still gon' be here\nMy vision was blurry and now I see clear\nYou wouldn\u2019t believe what I made in a year\nDraped in designer, I\u2019m sticky as hell\nI run Atlanta, I should be the mayor\nYou won\u2019t believe what I made in a year\nI\u2019m flippin' these bags, I made me a mill\nThen I start rappin' and got me a deal\nI took off fast, this shit get for real\nShe want to talk but she don\u2019t want to hear\nAll she want me to do is keep it real\nShe keep on cryin' I'm tired of her tears\nI keep on lyin' it just what it is\nI'm on my grind, so fuck how you feel\nI got some homies who sittin' in the pen\nYeah, yeah\nThey gon' be sittin' in that bitch for some years\nWe were some teens, they labeled us grown\nHad some judges who doin' us wrong\nI know your pain just hold on\nJust sing this song\n\nI can do bad on my own and good by myself\nI never needed no help\nI needed you niggas, you wasn\u2019t right there\nYou need me, lil' nigga, I\u2019m still gon' be here\nMy vision was blurry and now I see clear\nYou wouldn\u2019t believe what I made in a year\nDraped in designer, I\u2019m sticky as hell\nI run Atlanta, I should be the mayor\nI can do bad on my own and good by myself\nI never needed no help\nI needed you niggas, you wasn\u2019t right there\nYou need me, lil' nigga, I\u2019m still gon' be here\nMy vision was blurry and now I see clear\nYou wouldn\u2019t believe what I made in a year\nDraped in designer, I\u2019m sticky as hell\nI run Atlanta, I should be the mayor"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easEspa\u00f1olHeyy Lyrics\nYeah\n\nMy favorite bitch just cut me off and she won't even let me know the reason (Yeah)\nIt's probably one of her lil' messy hatin'-ass friends bein' evil\nI ain't stressin' 'bout it, she'll come around when she wanna eat it up\nSlow stroke, fast stroke, grindin' it, I'm a real pleaser\nSixty hoes in New York havin' dinner\nBottega send it to me soon as they get it\nI put Maybach seats in the Sprinter\nMake sure ev\u0435rybody sit comfortable\nYou gotta really pay attention, I'm not mumblin'\nSh\u0435 tryna have a good time, she wanna come with us\nThey know we can't be fucked with, they not one of us\nIt's done been some times I slipped, I'm not fallin'\nBrabus baby blue, the inside too, I'm feelin' like a kid again\nThey thought I got lucky last time, fuck it, I'm back on that shit again\nHer last bag was a crocodile Kelly\nGot it chocolate to match her skin\nI just gave bro a hundred pounds of wham\nTold him, \"Tell the city it's in\"\nMajority of the time, I \"Hi\" and \"Bye,\" these niggas\nI ain't with all that lockin' in shit\nMoney over everything, try to stop it\nYou get popped right then and there\nMessage thread full of, \"Where you ats?\" and \"Pull up on me\"\nBunch of whens and wheres\nYoungins out here wildin' with no guidance\nAll they care about is who they kill\nI was tryna keep that shit in order\nIt got harder 'cause I'm never there\nIt's a better life out here\nI promise, brodie, I'ma keep it in they ear\nI know how it feel to spin a opp\nBut it feel way better to count a million\nI come from the bottom of the bottom\nI shot right up through the fuckin' ceilin'\nYou might also like\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nEverybody lit, can't put our fire out (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nSoon as it pop, bro pull that fire out (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nThis her first time comin' to my house (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nBetter go hard, girl, this your try-outs (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nEverybody lit, can't put our fire out (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nSoon as it pop, bro, pull that fire out (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nThis her first time comin' to my house (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nBetter go hard, girl, this your try-outs (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\n\nYeah, stay down, hustle hard until you come up\nTake some, only when you need it\nYou won't make it far bein' greedy\nMy grandma taught me how to be a leader\nIf we fly commercial, we got greeters\nThey just know that we important people\nThey see how we comin', think we ghetto\nUntil they children tell 'em I'm their hero\nFlight attendant said I look familiar\nCrack a smile, tell her, \"It's a small world\"\nOh, that's your bitch? That's my ho too\nWe gon' share her, call her, \"Our girl\"\nReal street music, I ran that field\nIf you can hit that, then she ain't my girl\nGet your lick back, come step in my world\nTwo bitches on the same itinerary\nThe same flight, same hotel, they don't even know each other yet (Yeah)\nOne of 'em don't say nothin', the other askin', \"Do we go together yet?\"\nYoung turnt nigga, ain't no holdin' back\nThis a Brabus, bro, not a regular wagon\nI don't kiss and tell, I ain't into that\nI don't think I met a nigga colder yet, like\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nEverybody lit, can't put our fire out (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nSoon as it pop, bro pull that fire out (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nThis her first time comin' to my house (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nBetter go hard, girl, this your try-outs (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nEverybody lit, can't put our fire out (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nSoon as it pop, bro, pull that fire out (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nThis her first time comin' to my house (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\nHey (Hey-hey-hey)\nBetter go hard, girl, this your try-outs (Hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey)\n\nHey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey\nHey-hey-hey, hey-hey-hey, hey-hey-heyEmbed"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsAll In Lyrics\n(Cook that shit up, Quay)\n\nMy mama been told me don't give no poor performance\nAnd whatever\u2005you\u2005gon' do, just\u2005do it\nNever thought 'bout doin' music\nI\u2005was tryna build my phone up\nContacts full of drug abusers\nRidin'\u205faround\u205fwith\u205fthat Mexican, tryna\u205ffigure out what\u205fmy cousin doin'\nPrison with the 'migos, found out they was sellin' bricks\nWish I would've knew that shit, I would've been lit\nSwear to God, since I was seventeen, I been hood rich\nI be at James Harden house, I'm all in Houston in the mix\nI'm talkin' 'bout spare time in New York, I buy floor seats to watch the Knicks\nAnd I don't even know no players\nI just wan' show off my new drip and put my chains in layers\nI might just stand up and go crazy, someone make the layup\nAnd we ain't squashin' shit for free, you niggas gotta pay us\nYou niggas better pay up, yeah\nKnow he might not beat it, I told the lawyer go for a lighter sentence\nI don't want know no problems with y'all niggas, y'all got women tendencies\nI don't gotta sell drugs no more, I'm bossed up, I got plenty business\nRidin' 'round in that Lam' truck, I wreck this bitch, it ain't rented\nGivin' out my respect, get respect in every city\nNiggas know I came up, but I came back through the slums with Diddy\nFucked around and got plugged in, I'm buyin' that red Richard Mille\nStay out my lil' brother business, just know that they gettin' millions\nYou might also like\nPress the button right there to let the doors in\nGo hard all year, I don't care, I'm goin' all in\nThis house, vibes everywhere, she callin' more friends\nMy word or nothin', I ain't lyin', I cannot bargain\n\nSippin' wockiana, come here, thotiana\nLet me bust you down, ah, yeah, yeah\nWhat kinda watch you wanted?\nMan, that's nothin', mami\nI'm not bein' funny, yeah, yeah, yeah\nI should've knew you was gon' rat the day you told me\nA hundred racks in all dubs, it ain't no foldin' me\nI ain't no puppet, I ain't with nobody controllin' me\nI go LeBron when it's crunch time, it ain't no holdin' me\nYou got the Maybach, Benz truck, I'm tryna buy one\nI told lil' shawty just let bygones be bygones\nTell the feds get off my dick, I don't gotta buy guns\nThey got the right one, yeah\n\nPress the button right there to let the doors in\nGo hard all year, I don't care, I'm goin' all in\nThis house, vibes everywhere, she callin' more friends\nMy word or nothin', I ain't lyin', I cannot bargain\nTo let the doors in\nI'm goin' all in\nShe callin' more friends\nI cannot bargain"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsForever Lyrics\nWho made this beat?\nTwysted Genius, baby\n\nIf I sell my soul, I'll take it back, I'm slime forever (Gimme that)\nI put bust down on the whole gang, we gon' shine together\nShe got Rollies on her timepiece when she step out, she be flashin'\nWhenever we get alone, I give her half and she get nasty\nMy jeans is special edition, Amiri send me these pants\nAnd now everybody be tough, is he gangster or he just actin'?\nAin't got no card, don't do no fraud, seem like all of my bitches plastic\nKnow you niggas don't want smoke, let's see who run it up the fastest\nKeep that fire when I'm cold, I can't let them catch me lackin'\nI don't know if they think I'm sweet because I'm rappin'\nBut fuck 'em, we get active (Get active)\n\nWrap it, make sure they can't smell it\nDrive too far? Don't matter, I'll mail it\nTryna steal swag, I see it, I smell it\nUsed to get mad, probably beat up my celly\nNow I sell bags every day in my city\nAin't doin' no playin', when they come, be ready\nI got murder on my mind like that lil' nigga Melly (Free Melly)\nBig boy rocks, stud the same size as Nelly (Ten karats)\nLong as I live, I'ma get this cheddar\nEver since the bitch left, doin' lil' better\nWhich car I'ma drive? It depends on the weather\nRolls Royce truck pull up like, \"Hello\"\nPretty, tall, light skin, shake like Jell-O\nIf the bitch actin' bougie, I'ma take her to the ghetto\nIf I ain't smokin' Runtz, then it's probably Limoncello\nYou got a lil' boy, but you not on my level\nSell P's every day in the hood on my schedule\nYoung nigga give a ho whole groove like Stella\nJam don't shake like that, that's Jell-O\nMade a whole M on the road, then lay low\nI'm a real boss in my hood, I got say-so\nI was havin' choppas 'fore I heard about Dracos\nPut me in the casket with a bust down halo, yeah\nYou might also like\nIf I sell my soul, I'll take it back, I'm slime forever (Give me that)\nI put bust down on the whole gang, we gon' shine together\nShe got Rollies on her timepiece when she step by, she be flashin'\nWhenever we get alone, I give her half and she get nasty\nMy jeans is special edition, Amiri send me these pants\nAnd now everybody be tough, is he gangster or he just actin'?\nAin't got no card, don't do no fraud, seem like all of my bitches plastic\nKnow you niggas don't want smoke, let's see who run it up the fastest\nKeep that fire when I'm cold, I can't let them catch me lackin'\nI don't know if they think I'm sweet because I'm rappin'\nBut fuck 'em, we get active\n\nSuav\u00e9 (Huh), sippin' promethazine latte (Yeah)\nSticky-ass weed like Scotch tape (Yeah)\nBig B's, call me Banye (Hoo)\nMe and Lil Baby compadre (Yeah)\nWhat these niggas talkin' 'bout? Blas\u00e9 (Huh)\nDiamonds on me, that's pav\u00e9 (Huh)\nSo bright, can't see, that's a blind date (Huh)\nMarley and Fee trynna get high weight (Ooh)\nI got M-O-L-L-Y weight\nOnly once the drugs are done\nI feel like, \"Where the hell is my grave?\"\nHeartbeat beatin' at a high rate\nWorld stop spinnin', start to vibrate\nIt's a cold world, so my house in Miami still came with a fireplace\nPupils dilate, don't judge me\nI'm with a sex slave, she like rough D\nI got a text straight from the plug, he said \"There's a drought\"\nI said \"Funny\", now we laughin'\nAnd only time that we act, is when we act asses\nNigga, we active\nSo if you 'bout that life, get out that casket\nIf I sell my soul, I'll take it back, I'm slime forever (Ooh, give me that)\nI put bust down on the whole gang, we gon' shine together (Yeah, yeah)\nShe got Rollies on her timepiece when she step by, she be flashin'\nWhenever we get alone, I give her half and she get nasty\nMy jeans is special edition, Amiri send me these pants\nAnd now everybody be tough, is he gangster or he just actin'?\nAin't got no card, don't do no fraud, seem like all of my bitches plastic\nKnow you niggas don't want smoke, let's see who run it up the fastest\nKeep that fire when I'm cold, I can't let them catch me lackin'\nI don't know if they think I'm sweet because I'm rappin'\nBut fuck 'em, we get active\n\nYeah, fuck 'em we get active, yeah\nWe can get active, yeah\nThis still got some active, yeah\nFuck 'em we get active, uh\nFuck 'em we get active"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsSouthside Lyrics\nSouthside on the track, yeah\nSouthside\nSouthside\nYeah\n\nI just got some stupid dome from this hoe from the Southside\n(Southside)\nLong live Troup, my OG man, that nigga from the Southside\n(Southside)\nShout out Deezy and them loc's who crippin' on the Southside\n(Southside)\nI get bags in for the low and send them to the Southside (Yeah)\nYeah, I'm sellin' coke, for real\nI put the \"D\" in dope, for real\nSaint Laurent on my coat, for real\nThat Draco, that Draco (Draco)\nI'm with Derez in Clayco (Clayco)\nShoutout to Clayhead, that nigga a real one\nWe had them bands in the neighborhood (Neighborhood)\n\nTemp fade, new J's (New J's)\nAll day, catch plays (Plays)\nWhite tee, dope boy (Work)\nMove that dope, boy (Dope boy)\nTrappin' out a bando (Bando)\nServin' out a window (Window)\nTryna run our mills up (M's up)\nThat's what we pay the rent for (M's)\nFuck it up in the Gucci store, them M's in (M's in)\nBad bitch lookin' like Bernice, I call her Slim Jim (Slim Jim)\nI just want push start on my car\nShoutout the hood, they know I'm a god\nThey know what we bang wherever we are\nI just took these cuts on stage\nLook at these VVS' in my chain\nI'm doing better, I can't even complain (Nah)\nBought it plain, then I blew out the brain (Brain)\nBirkin bag, make the bitch go insane ('Sane)\nWith the gang, I ain't switchin' the name (Name)\nPaper tag, got me switchin' these lanes (Lane)\nDo anything to get me some chains\nThese niggas be fuckin' for fame (Fame)\nYou might also like\nI just got some stupid dome from this hoe from the Southside\n(Southside)\nLong live Troup, my OG man, that nigga from the Southside\n(Southside)\nShout out Deezy and them loc's who crippin' on the Southside\n(Southside)\nI get bags in for the low and send them to the Southside (Yeah)\nYeah, I'm sellin' coke, for real\nI put the \"D\" in dope, for real\nSaint Laurent on my coat, for real\nThat Draco, that Draco (Draco)\nI'm with Derez in Clayco (Clayco)\nShoutout to Clayhead, that nigga a real one\nWe had them bands in the neighborhood (Yeah)\n\nI'm doing shit that they wishing they could (Yeah)\nI'm the frontrunner, burning right through the hood (Yeah)\nThey hated on me, but it's still all good (Yah)\nDraco on me, and it's still all wood (Yah)\nI'm on probation, they let off a fool\nThey on my drip, tryna see what I do\nThey takin' notes, tryna study my moves\nThey tryna do what I do (What you doin'?)\nAll-Star weekend, I was gettin' the pack in\nHeard you got your shit took, nigga you lackin'\nBig body Benz, \"Beep, beep\", when it back in\nReal street niggas buyin' bags with the backends\nThese niggas ain't authentic, they actin'\nAnd they ain't get to the money, they cappin'\nWhat happened? (Huh?)\nI thought you was a real one? (Nah, nah)\nSolitary stones in my ear, these the clear ones (Clear)\nThese diamonds dancin' too loud in my ear, so I don't hear them (Hear them)\nMy homie got the stick, I got the glizzy\nWe don't fear them (Nah)\nThese niggas don't wanna play with us\nI swear that we gon' kill them (Fa)\nI just got some stupid dome from this hoe from the Southside\n(Southside)\nLong live Troup, my OG man, that nigga from the Southside\n(Southside)\nShout out Deezy and them loc's who crippin' on the Southside\n(Southside)\nI get bags in for the low and send them to the Southside (Yeah)\nYeah, I'm sellin' coke, for real\nI put the \"D\" in dope, for real\nSaint Laurent on my coat, for real\nThat Draco, that Draco (Draco)\nI'm with Derez in Clayco (Clayco)\nShoutout to Clayhead, that nigga a real one\nWe had them bands in the neighborhood (Neighborhood)\n\nYeah, on Southside\nWe on Southside"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easHow Lyrics\n(M-M-M-Murda)\n\nRunnin' up this money been a breeze (Phew)\nFlew her in, she fuck me \u2019til she\u2005leave\u2005(Uh)\nShe done fell\u2005in love, I'm sellin' dreams\nI done\u2005fell in love with buyin\u2019 jeans (Jeans)\nHate I found a\u205flove\u205ffor\u205fsippin' lean\nHellcat faster\u205fthan a Demon,\u205fnew G-Wagen with no key\nPut baguettes in my AP, I ain't on playin' about they beef\nNiggas know I play for keeps, treat my brothers like they me\nHad to make myself a boss, it ain't no nigga workin' me\nI invest a couple mil' and let my money work for me\nKnow they hate the way it happened, probably somewhere cursin' me\nI don\u2019t know nothing \u2019bout no killin', all I know is murder beats\nI got rich and understand my next three cars gon\u2019 be a lease\nI ain't never losin' sleep about no beef, I roll in peace\nI put diamonds in my teeth, came from grindin' in the streets\nGet a load and break it down and sell it all and then repeat it\nPray to God for all the dawgs behind the wall, they need they freedom (Free y\u2019all)\nWhen I be on TV and perform, I hope they see me (See me)\nOnce it's up, it's stuck, we get over on niggas, not get even\nForgiato rims on my dually, I ride diesel\nOnly rock Amiris with my team, not no Diesel\nGot some niggas up in Philly play with birds like they Eagles\nShe keep sayin' I'm the man, that shit boostin' up my ego\nStill in Atlanta sellin' bags like they legal, I'm just sayin' (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nHow you try to run off with the wave and you ain't surfin'?\nGave 'em all the drip, them niggas still acted thirsty\nI ain't even counted up to see what I'm worth yet\nAll I know is put it up and keep on workin'\nI can't even hold you, I been gettin' loaded\nDevil on my shoulders\nGod got my back, so I keep on rollin', yeah\n\nDrop-top McLaren (Oh), everybody starin' (Lookin')\nLil' one from the hood turned into the man (Big dawg)\nGet a lot of money (Yeah), try to stuff it in my pants (4 Pockets)\nI might do the woah (Woah), nigga, I don't dance\nRings on my hand cost a fortune\nShout out to my mama, no abortion (What's up?)\nD-Boy, white Air Forces (Crisp)\nDifferent kinda bags, I got choices (Flavors)\nAnd I got the swag for a loyal ticket\nThink I'm hearin' voices in my head sayin', \"Kill him\" (Kill him)\nKnow she'll forgive me, I'm one of the real ones\nReally from the trenches, turn a dollar to a nickel (Get 'em)\nBaddest of the baddest, guess I gotta wait to pick 'em\nTry us, then we smashin', then they go to playin' victim (Kill 'em)\nI don't know what happened, all I know is he got hit up\nI'ma need a napkin, chains drippin', VV's lit up\nI'ma get the money and go hard long as I get up (Get up)\nWe gon' beat the trial, I told lil' bruh to do some sit-ups (Push-up)\nWin, win, win, no lose or draw, I never give up (Nah)\nNigga, what you bangin'? What you claimin'? Throw that shit up (4, Baby)\nHow you try to run off with the wave and you ain't surfin'?\nGave 'em all the drip, them niggas still acted thirsty\nI ain't even counted up to see what I'm worth yet\nAll I know is put it up and keep on workin'\nI can't even hold you, I been gettin' loaded\nDevil on my shoulders\nGod got my back, so I keep on rollin', yeah"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsFirst Class Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\n\nYeah, Fifty-five hunnit for a new pair of titties, I'll buy 'em like Jordans\nGive her a couple of thousand, now she feelin' important\nDick her down, she'll be gone by the morning\nShe got them ass shots that I like\nPop a Addy, we'll be fuckin' all night\nShe say she got a man but it's alright, shoot outta town, first class flight\nFifty-five hunnit for a new pair of titties, I'll buy 'em like Jordans\nGive her a couple of thousand, now she feelin' important\nDick her down, she'll be gone by the morning\nShe got them ass shots that I like\nPop a Addy, we'll be fuckin' all night\nShe say she got a man but it's alright, shoot outta town, first class flight\n\nYou can be mine and I can be yours\nLet's have a baby and name her Dior\nAin't got no time I'm always on tour\nI press decline I always ignore\nI had to tease her so she can want more\nBaby we grown we can fuck on the floor\nCondo top floor, we gon' make love on the balcony\nShe want that dick tryna tackle me\nI'm gettin' money like I was a athlete\nWake her up and put her back to sleep\nI let the homie hit after me\nShe got super head he enjoying that\nI ain't cuffing no bitch I ain't doing that\nOnce I hit it one time I ain't goin' back\nI'm out the door like a floor mat\nShe say she diggin' my format\nI'm the baby I'm a rug rat\nShe like, \"Damn baby where my hug at?\" I'm like, \"Damn, baby, we don't do that\"\nGave her a couple of thousand for the pussy\nGet in there let her know I ain't no rookie\nPut on a show like somebody else lookin'\nDiggin in her deep make her push me\nYou might also like\nFifty-five hunnit for a new pair of titties, I'll buy 'em like Jordans\nGive her a couple of thousand, now she feelin' important\nDick her down, she'll be gone by the morning\nShe got them ass shots that I like\nPop a Addy, we'll be fuckin' all night\nShe say she got a man but it's alright, shoot outta town, first class flight\nFifty-five hunnit for a new pair of titties, I'll buy 'em like Jordans\nGive her a couple of thousand, now she feelin' important\nDick her down, she'll be gone by the morning\nShe got them ass shots that I like\nPop a Addy, we'll be fuckin' all night\nShe say she got a man but it's alright, shoot outta town, first class flight\n\nShe say she tied up, she got a man and he on her ass\nShe say she tired of 'em\nGive her a perkie, a pack of backwoods and tell her to fire up\nTop floor penthouse suite, baby, we high up\nWho said that you cannot buy love?\nWe gon' be making love until the morning, baby, I'm tellin' you, this is your warning\nI'm not gon' stop it, I'ma keep on flowin'\nAdderall got a nigga goin'\nI'ma get it cracking and you know it\nI'ma make you happy, I ain't boring\nYou can tell your friends you don't know me\nI'ma beat it up like you owe me\nI gotta go, sorry you can't hold me\nFishtail the Vette like it's stolen\nBaby you was lucky that I choose you\nFuck all that talkin', baby, I'ma show you\nPut a lot of lean in my soda\nCoffee cup but this ain't folger's\nI know I be drippin' from my toe up\nJust don't tell 'em nothing that I told you\nFifty-five hunnit for a new pair of titties, I'll buy 'em like Jordans\nGive her a couple of thousand, now she feelin' important\nDick her down, she'll be gone by the morning\nShe got them ass shots that I like\nPop a Addy, we'll be fuckin' all night\nShe say she got a man but it's alright, shoot outta town, first class flight\nFifty-five hunnit for a new pair of titties, I'll buy 'em like Jordans\nGive her a couple of thousand, now she feelin' important\nDick her down, she'll be gone by the morning\nShe got them ass shots that I like\nPop a Addy, we'll be fuckin' all night\nShe say she got a man but it's alright, shoot outta town, first class flight"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsCash Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\n4 Pockets Full, nigga\n\nIs you mad?\n'Cause I'm getting cash\nThat ain't my place\nBought a new Wraith\nShe in my face\nI want her head\nI want her legs\nI want a redhead\nI want her head\nI want her neck\nI want her legs\nYou don't even beg\nWe can fuck on the floor\nWe can fuck in the shower\nLeave your friends at the door\nTell 'em give you a hour\n\nAnd they know I'ma GOAT\nI got paper and power\nMan, these niggas some hoes\nEverything they say sour\nI bought a Bentley and blew out her brain\nSince I got money and people done changed\nI'm keepin' my .40, I'm up on my aim\nJump out of line, I bust at your brain\nShoebox money, it ain't nothin' to me\nI could make a hunnid in my sleep\nThese niggas cappin', that's all they see\nThey just wanna be like me\nTakin' this swag and then give it back\nI didn't get mad, I went and got more\nThey just wanna be like him\nI don't wanna be like them\nUsed to wanna be like him\n'Til I stayed down and ran up an M\nBaby ballin', they should put it on film\nShootin' for bricks, I don't aim for the rim\nFuck the gym, I don't work out\nTake a sip of the lean, wash the Perc down\nI got on all my jewels, foreign, and all my shoes\nThese niggas mad 'cause I won't lose\nI gotta win, I just began\nNo fake love, no fake friends\nJust 30 in this FN\nYou might also like\nIs you mad?\n'Cause I'm getting cash\nThat ain't my place\nBought a new Wraith\nShe in my face\nI want her head\nI want her legs\nI want a redhead\nI want her head\nI want her neck\nI want her legs\nYou don't even beg\nWe can fuck on the floor\nWe can fuck in the shower\nHey, your friends at the door\nTell 'em give you an hour\n\nI go deep in her throat\nKeep that shit on the low\nDon't nobody else know\nThat's our business fasho\nWe can fuck on the counter\nI keep takin' these downers\nPop me a Addi, a Percocet, pour me a four\nBaby, we grown, we could fuck on the floor\nI'm gettin' money\nThat's why they mad\nThat ain't my fault\nNigga, I'm a boss\nGet white chalked\nPlayin' with an OG\nI got bags\nThese niggas owe me, they know me\nStandin' in the kitchen and workin' my wrists\nI made a duece, turned to a nick\nI make a nick, turned to a nine\nI made  a nine, turned to a split\nYou know the rest, I made a split, turned to a brick\nWe in this bitch, we got it lit\nWe got them sticks\nIs you mad?\n'Cause I'm getting cash\nThat ain't my place\nBought a new Wraith\nShe in my face\nI want her head\nI want her legs\nI want a redhead\nI want her head\nI want her neck\nI want her legs\nYou don't even beg\nWe can fuck on the floor\nWe can fuck in the shower\nLeave your friends at the door\nTell 'em give you an hour"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsRight On Lyrics\n(ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob)\n\nSlide my Rolls-Royce through the hood, that shit look good like right on\nGet your own salon, your hair done when you want from now on\nTell the police I don't do nothin\u2019, I been sellin' these songs\nAin't puttin\u2019 no cap inside my rap, ain't too much leadin' you on\n\nMy lil' youngin ready to slide, he listen to Shiesty all day\nEverybody in a supercharger, I know we getting away\nShe want me to cum inside of who, I nutted in her face\nI don't like to go too many places, I run shit in the A\nGet a hotel for a year straight, ain't no pillow where I stay\nI know bitches who set niggas up, yeah\nI know niggas who whack bitches too, yeah\nI been in a hundred million movies\nLife is real, let her pop a pill, she enjoyed herself\nBad bitches, put 'em in the ring, they go below the belt\nNo referee, ain't no stoppin\u2019 me, I\u2019m tryna take it there\nThe only problems I'm havin\u2019 in life is which watch I'ma wear\nI grew up on that take it shit, I don't know how to steal\nI ain't with all that fakin\u2019 shit, I'd rather keep it real\nYou mad at me about a bitch who fucking both of us\nI went and ran my money up, I swear it's over for 'em\nI done gave my feelings up, I don't know who to trust\nShit comin' up missin' at the spot, I don't know who to bust\nShe my gangster bitch, I gave her racks and told her, \"Stash that\"\nLove it when you throw it back like, damn, you know that ass fat\nYou know I'ma blast back, you know I'm way past that\nSo why you acting like it's something that it wasn't?\nShe know how to make me mad, I swear this bitch push every button\nI know how to run up cash, I swear I'm gettin' hella money\nReal spill\nYou might also like\nSlide my Rolls-Royce through the hood, that shit look good like right on\nGet your own salon, your hair done when you want from now on\nTell the police I don't do nothin', I been sellin' these songs\nAin't puttin' no cap inside my rap, ain't too much leadin' you on\nSlide my Rolls-Royce through the hood, that shit look good like right on\nGet your own salon, your hair done when you want from now on\nTell the police I don't do nothin', I been sellin' these songs\nAin't puttin' no cap inside my rap, ain't too much leadin' you on\n\nBae, don't put me on your camera, you know what I look like\nShe like, \"Put it in me raw,\" I asked her like, \"What I look like?\"\nBae, just call me when you get here, you know I don't book flights\nWe can't pop out, it won't even look right\nI just hit the woman of my dreams with another bitch\nI done scratched ten million off my bucket list\nI'm never on no sucker shit\nMy city stand behind me, that's why I love this shit\nBuildin' up for my kids' kids' kids, I ain't gon' never quit\nInvestin' my money in all type of shit, ownership\nPlease don't involve me in all that messy shit, I don't want the bitch\nI put twenty-sixes on my Cullinan, that country shit\nBuildin' up my audience, I'm all in other countries with it\nMaxin' out my debit cards in one store\nTake a pretty girl and give her what she want, I'm just having fun\nCatch me cuttin' up in that ZR1, it's the fast kind\nI done got my shit together, I'm way better than last time, yeah\nSlide my Rolls-Royce through the hood, that shit look good like right on\nGet your own salon, your hair done when you want from now on\nTell the police I don't do nothin', I been sellin' these songs\nAin't puttin' no cap inside my rap, ain't too much leadin' you on\nSlide my Rolls-Royce through the hood, that shit look good like right on\nGet your own salon, your hair done when you want from now on\nTell the police I don't do nothin', I been sellin' these songs\nAin't puttin' no cap inside my rap, ain't too much leadin' you on"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easLow Down Lyrics\n(Cook that shit up, Quay)\n\nGo to lunch in the Jewish community (Yeah)\nI wouldn't tell on\u2005the\u2005bros with immunity\u2005(Nah)\nPlayin' victim, that shit ain't gon'\u2005ruin me\nI'm the only now that outdo me\nI got hoes\u205fby\u205fthe\u205fgroup tryna do\u205fme\nMy life like\u205fa movie, get head in the water\nDon't gotta put in no work, I send orders\nThis shit done got serious, them millions come plural, I'm living by morals\nWe swipe 'em, ain't keepin', no Dora Explorer\nI'm young and I'm turnt, I got bitches galore\nMy baby, my whip cost two-fifty, I'm splurgin'\nGot five million cash just in case of emergency\nMy young niggas kill, get away, they be purgin'\nIt happened like this, I ain't do it on purpose\nI'm working my move, nigga, which one of you workin'?\nI turned on my crew, bought a coupe off of verses\nI'm tired of these strippers, I'm going at nurses and doctors and dentists\nYou started, I finished, I told you we with it\nMy word is like gold to my city\nI tell 'em to go, they gon' get it\nI heard that you froze when they hit it\nPutting these hoes in the business, you know that you tripping\nI tell 'em no, they gon' listen\nKnowin' these niggas be sweet and some bitches, I'm different\nYou might also like\nShe tryna leave me, I'm low down\nI hang with savages, don't bring your ho 'round\nI'm going bougie, I'm switchin' my profile\nAll of my cars get delivered with no miles\nThey think they do and we don't, I don't know how\nRun through the load, call the plug, I need more pounds\nI put on drip every day from the floor up\nI'm getting sick of this shit, pour some more up, yeah\n\nCullinan shot in, my driver named Solid\nI keep him on point, make sure nobody follow us\nI got a Glock with a shot that can stop a truck\nI get the money eight ways like an octopus\nNo way in hell I'ma give all these choppers up\nTeam full of players, ain't nobody stopping us\nHe out of line, give a fuck, then we poppin' him\nBeen raisin' hell, back in school, I was popular, yeah\nAll of my hoes get facials, face me\nMake her my bitch too much, she lazy\nI was thinking prices too high, then I raised 'em\nShit in my bank account gettin' outrageous\nNiggas smellin' like that, had to switch up my fragrance\nAnd I'm sending out shots if the fouls get flagrant\nSwitch up my route to the house, had to change it\nStill with the shit, I forget that I'm famous\nShe tryna leave me, I'm low down\nI hang with savages, don't bring your ho 'round\nI'm going bougie, I'm switchin' my profile\nAll of my cars get delivered with no miles\nThey think they do and we don't, I don't know how\nRun through the load, call the plug, I need more pounds\nI put on drip every day from the floor up\nI'm getting sick of this shit, pour some more up, yeah\nShe tryna leave me, I'm low down\nI hang with savages, don't bring your ho 'round\nI'm going bougie, I'm switchin' my profile\nAll of my cars get delivered with no miles\nThey think they do and we don't, I don't know how\nRun through the load, call the plug, I need more pounds\nI put on drip every day from the floor up\nI'm getting sick of this shit, pour some more up, yeah\n\nI'm getting sick of this shit, pour some more up\nI put on drip every day from the floor up\nI'm getting sick of this shit, pour some more up\nI put on drip every day"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsHumble Lyrics\nDay after day\nSeems like I push against the clouds\n(Section 8 just straight cooked this motherfucker\u2005up)\nThey\u2005just keep blocking\u2005out the sun\nIt seems since I\u2005was born\nI've wakened every blessed morning\nI been thinkin' to myself\u205flately\nWonderin'\u205fdid\u205fshe mean it\u205fwhen she say\u205fshe hate me?\nOr wonderin' did she mean it when she say she wished she didn't keep the baby? (Down on my luck and up against the wind)\n\nTold Solid to speed it up, you ain't driving Miss Daisy\nRolls Royce truck plus, yeah, you driving Lil Baby\nHit from the back and grab her neck, it be drivin' her crazy\nAin't work no job since we met, I'm the reason she lazy\nI got some checks that I ain't touch, they for Loyal and Jason\nReally wanna have a daughter just so I can spoil her\nMaybe look at women different\nFather God, forgive me, I'ma been sinning for a minute\nWe bought sticks when it was tension\nFuck that bitch, she want attention\nShe get famous if I mention\nI ain't gon' say her name at all\nI was just sittin' in prison, damn near livin' like a dog\nI remember that shit vividly, I do this shit for y'all\nI'm not lookin' for no sympathy, won't cry about no loss\nI got demons all on my back and arms, I'm tryna shake 'em off\nI can't never fuck with lil' Mill again, he tried to take me off\nI can't lie, you was my dawg, I heard that shit, it broke my heart\nCan't no nigga say I did somethin' flawed, been solid from the start\nEvery situation ever happened, Baby played his part\nI ain't never did shit to brag about it, I do that shit with honors\nIn my bag, but I been layin' back, I'm turnin' up this summer\nGuess you mad 'cause I've been havin', tellin' hoes I was a runner\nIf I was, I was the richest runner in Georgia, on my mama\nAnd I ain't never been no worker, had my own number, ask bruh\nSeven summers straight we went crazy, called it good luck\nYou might also like\nI been keepin' my distance, I switched up my number\nI done made all these millions, I'm keepin' my hunger\nAll this food in a big house, my stomach still rumble\nGot the ball, I won't fumble\nI just touch down, stay humble\nI been keepin' my distance, I switched up my number\nI done made all these millions, I'm keepin' my hunger\nAll this food in a big house, my stomach still rumble\nGot the ball, I won't fumble\nI just touch down, stay humble, yeah\n\nThinkin' 'bout that shit you said, I can't get it out my head\nI know that my heart is black, so all my cars' insides is red\nI don't wanna argue with no one, let's get this guap instead\nI ain't tryna beef with none these niggas 'cause all my opps is dead\nIf you ever run into police, you better not tell\nTurn it up, I might as well, you know I'm so 4PF\n'Fore I go, I gotta say what's up to all the bros in jail\nI know that they be listenin', I know that he'll be with me\nAnd his lawyer cost one-sixty, I hope they un-convict him when he go back\nFollow him with a low jack, then step on him like a doormat\nDoin' dirt, can't go back, my mind straight, ain't no slackin'\nGuns all in Renee house, you ain't from the hood if you don't know Madison\nI been keepin' my distance, I switched up my number\nI done made all these millions, I'm keepin' my hunger\nAll this food in a big house, my stomach still rumble\nGot the ball, I won't fumble\nI just touch down, stay humble\nI been keepin' my distance, I switched up my number\nI done made all these millions, I'm keepin' my hunger\nAll this food in a big house, my stomach still rumble\nGot the ball, I won't fumble\nI just touch down, stay humble, yeah"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsMoney Forever Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\n\nI had to spread my wings, jump out my nest\nRan out of Act so I'm pourin' up red\nI took the harder way like I'm Derez\nShout out the doctor keep givin' these meds\nI got the streets in a lock like some dreads\nRide on the back of that bitch like some pegs\nRunnin' this shit, they should cut off my legs\nHad to play a little smarter, I'm using my head\nDropped out of school, took the street way instead\nI'm a lil' dope boy, I want me some bread\nI'ma shoot at your body, won't aim for your neck\nI just cashed out on a flooded Patek\nIt ain't a big one, but dammit, it's big enough\nI just came home from the can, I'ma live it up\nI rep the gang, when you see me, I'ma throw it up\nI just spent three hundred racks on a Bentley truck\n\nScreamin' out, \"gang, gang, gang, gang, gang\"\nI do this shit for the gang\nI didn't get in this for fame\nNigga ain't takin' my chain\nI'ma stand firm with my name\nThey say you get money, you change\nI got the money and stayed the same\nI'm tryna stay in my lane\nYou might also like\nGotta maintain, can't go back broke\nGotta stand tall, won't bend or fold\nDrop top 'Vette, tryna keep it in a Rolls\nAin't signin' no deal, ain't sellin' my soul\nGotta run it up fast, my mama gettin' old\nI'm a million dollar nigga, gotta reach my goal\nGot the hood on my back, still throwin' up fours\nThey say the Act gettin' low, I'm still pourin' up fours\nI pour the six if it cost me\nI like to fuck on your ho on the balcony\nI got the cheese and I got me some broccoli\nAll color money, this shit like monopoly\nCan't get this drip, ain't no need for you watchin' me\nI ran my racks up and I moved out of poverty\nI'm keepin' designer all over my body\nI got some Buscemi, I got new Givenchy\nDamn, I thought I'd never see the day\nI'm so glad I made it through the rain\nThey don't wanna see a nigga straight\nThey don't wanna see young Gunna paid\nTake a long time, I had to wait\nWant this penthouse, a lot of space\nA lot of hundreds comin' our way\nBust it down, split it with the gang\nScreamin' out, \"gang, gang, gang, gang, gang\"\nI do this shit for the gang\nI didn't get in this for fame\nNigga ain't takin' my chain\nI'ma stand firm with my name\nThey say you get money, you change\nI got the money and stayed the same\nI'm tryna stay in my lane\n\nI used to sleep on the floor for a mattress\nGetting evicted, that shit was embarrassing\nMy mama didn't have it, we made us a palettes\nI had to share with the roaches and rats\nKeep gettin' money these voices keep telling me\nI went to prison, it made me a better me\nI can't get no job, I got too many felonies\nI been on probation since I was like seventeen\nI done got me some stripes in the hood like a referee\nI used to walk into school with that fire on me\nI'm gettin' money, ain't really got time to beef\nI don't know why these lil' bitches be lyin' on me\nI'm the jungle for real where them lions be\nI'm goin' apeshit, they callin' me Willie B\nThese niggas be sayin' they gon' rob me but we'll see\nI'm gon' make every nigga with 'em fear me\nScreamin' out, \"gang, gang, gang, gang, gang\"\nI do this shit for the gang\nI didn't get in this for fame\nNigga ain't takin' my chain\nI'ma stand firm with my name\nThey say you get money, you change\nI got the money and stayed the same\nI'm tryna stay in my lane\n\nRun it all up and stay the same, yeah\nI'ma run it all up and stay the same\nRun it all up and stay the same, yeah\nI'ma run it all up and stay the same\nI will not change for shit, I got my name from this\nI will not change for shit, I got my name from this\nI will not change for shit, I got my name from this\nI will not change for shit, I got my name from this\nRun it all up and stay the same, yeah\nI'ma run it all up and stay the same"}
{"text":"27 ContributorsFrozen Lyrics\nCan someone come unthaw my heart? I think it's frozen\n\nHow you bring a knife to a gunfight?\nThey gon' always do it twice when it's done right\nI remember ridin' 'round 'til the sunlight come up\nI ain't tryna argue so I hung up\nD-boy fresh with it on me, know how I pop out\nIf bullshit is not important, what I'm gon' lie 'bout?\nDon't play with Baby, I give you somethin' to cry 'bout\nThat's a dime, that's for you and four of your friends to fly out\nEvery time we outside, that shit be goin' up\nI got women tryna get at me like you been growin' up\nReally, I know you see what's happenin', I'm steady blowin' up\nI know niggas want me to fall but I'm steady goin' uphill\nStarted from the bottom, how the fuck I'm up here?\nIf you r\u0435ally came from nothin', then you know how that feel\nAin't no extras, only st\u0435ppers, that's the way that I live\nPut some extras on it, blessed it, nigga, that's what I did\nHeart cold frozen, got my mindset on where on however this shit go\nStill kinda nervous hopin' nobody would notice it\nAt the point, I met you, slowed me down\nYou fuckin' up my focus, bro, I'm really on some more shit\nAin't been on the scene that much, I'm somewhere gettin' loaded\nAin't talkin' 'bout weed that I smoked or lean that I po'd\nI'm talkin' 'bout this money I'm savin' up, I been in the tuck\nFuckin' with me, winin' the lottery, ayy, who feelin' lucky?\nKnow some real ones ready to slide with me if I press the button\nPeople who done really been down from me, they don't ask for nothin'\nKeepin' it one million, I'm too real to say that I'm one hundred\nYou are not the one 'cause you got money, real shit\nYou might also like\nI don't know what they told you, but you got me fucked up\nYou see how we walked in? You can't see we run stuff?\nI gotta think out the box, I hate bein' bunched up\nGlad that I been through a lot, it made me a monster\nI done seen this shit get grimy, I can't have no conscience\nSee 'em tryna clone me and all, but it's only one me\nIf I came in this world alone, why I get lonely?\nCan someone come unthaw my heart? I think it's frozen\n\nI don't feel a lot of this shit, I can't even hold you\nCatch me in the Hamptons with Mike Rubin or HOV them\nOr catch me in the hood with a Lamborghini with the doors up\nI can't even lie, it broke my heart, I heard you told some\nGotta keep my fire under my jacket, it's a cold world\nShe with me when he go out to practice, this a cold girl\nShe a goblin, she don't even stop it, make your toes curl\nBae, I'm sorry for puttin' our business out there\nYou too cool for losing, you could be winnin' out here\nYou keep it wet, I'm gon' invest, support yo' swimmin' line\nDon't worry 'bout that, just do yo' best, I promise you'll be fine\nYou let that shit come out yo' mouth, now you can't press rewind, it's stuck there\nFive million cash, all blues, you get a rush, yeah\nI don't need a nigga or a bitch, who the fuck cares?\nYou the one that's really sour, I ain't even gon' go there\nYou was 'posed to be here, but oh well\nI don't know what they told you, but you got me fucked up\nYou see how we walked in? You can't see we run stuff?\nI gotta think out the box, I hate bein' bunched up\nGlad that I been through a lot, it made me a monster\nI done seen this shit get grimy, I can't have no conscience\nSee 'em tryna clone me and all, but it's only one me\nIf I came in this world alone, why I get lonely?\nCan someone come unthaw my heart? I think it's frozen"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsGo Hard Lyrics\nI'm back goin' hard again, I'm shuttin' down my heart again\nNo one can get next to me, so they gotta put orders in\nTry my best to act like I didn't care, but I can't hold it in and\nI'm not into losin', I go hard as I can go to win\nI'm back goin' hard again, I'm shuttin' down my heart again\nNo one can get next to me, so they gotta put orders in\nTry my best to act like I didn't care, but I can't hold it in and\nI'm not into losin', I go hard as I can go to win\n\nYou pillow talkin' to hoes again\nYou breakin' the code again\nI'm on the road again\nWe snuck in this bitch with them poles again\nThis chopper do tricks, you gon' go fold it in\nI know they be hatin', I still post they shit\nWe slid on they block like we 'posed to slid\nThis Glock been with me on my road to riches\nWe done over-sold the load again\nToo many plays, been up for too many days\nBoy, you a bitch, you got feminine ways\nI get the drop, I'ma pay, they gon' spray where you stay\nI had to check on my man, think he part of the Klan\nKeep a mask, he got too many Ks\nI had to run up them bands when I got out the can\nCan't go back, I got too many cases\nHe actin' bad on the 'Gram, but we know what's gon' happen\nIt happen in every occasion\nSomebody killed, I be tellin' my youngins to chill\nCheck the stats, I do numbers, for real\nAnd this ain't no cap, I get money, for real\nThat lil' boy ain't run up no commas, for real\nDon't play with Baby, I go million for million\nI made it out, but yet I'm still in the field\nFive hundred racks sittin' in my Urus\nTen carat diamonds spent in my earlobes\nSuperhero Baby, savin' the ghetto\nIf I'm not the man, I'm the man in the middle\nHop out the car with my hand on my pistol\nHe just a fan and he mad I don't feel him\nI know they know that I ran with them killers\nFuck it, you know I still run with them guys\nDrivebys a waste of my time, I want somebody to die\nI risk it all, put my sack on the line\nI came from the back of the line\nWe had it crackin' since back when lil' one was alive\nYou can go ask on my line\nI wish Lil Woo would've never went through with his move\nBut I'm glad that he through with his dime, yeah\nYou might also like\nI'm back goin' hard again, I'm shuttin' down my heart again\nNo one can get next to me, so they gotta put orders in\nTry my best to act like I didn't care, but I can't hold it in and\nI'm not into losin', I go hard as I can go to win\nI'm back goin' hard again, I'm shuttin' down my heart again\nNo one can get next to me, so they gotta put orders in\nTry my best to act like I didn't care, but I can't hold it in and\nI'm not into losin', I go hard as I can go to win\n\nHe tryna diss me, that shit ain't gon' get to me\nI can't give pussy-ass niggas my energy\nHe say that shit when I see him, then he'll see\nKnow they mad 'cause they can't take a seat with me\nGot the best of the best in the sheets with me\nHands down, can't nobody compete with me\nI eat filet mignon, I'm a cash cow\nI got ten million cash from my last album\nI'm just waitin' on bronem to max out\nEvery show that I get, it be packed out\nFive K for your teeth, you got ripped off\nSpent a hundred thousand on mine\nCrack a smile just to show the diamonds\nFrom the corner to another continent\nGot a baby daddy? I don't wanna hit\nNeed a Nike deal how I'm runnin' shit\nHe can't come to the A, he on punishment\nCatch that boy out of place, we gon' punish him\nTake his chain and his watch on some funny shit\nBrodie ready to crash on some dummy shit\nGotta fuck me for free, ain't no money, bitch\nI've been on some pimp shit lately\nI been off a jet with some made men\nWe had twenty vibes out in Vegas\nI'm back goin' hard again, I'm shuttin' down my heart again\nNo one can get next to me, so they gotta put orders in\nTry my best to act like I didn't care, but I can't hold it in and\nI'm not into losin', I go hard as I can go to win\nI'm back goin' hard again, I'm shuttin' down my heart again\nNo one can get next to me, so they gotta put orders in\nTry my best to act like I didn't care, but I can't hold it in and\nI'm not into losin', I go hard as I can go to win\n\nI go hard as I can go to win\nI go hard as I can go to win\nI go hard as I can go to win\nHard as I can go to win\nHard as I can go to winEmbed"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsCatch the Sun Lyrics\n(Hit-Boy)\n\nSeems like we runnin' outta time\nYeah, we still so young and got so much to\u2005find\nWe\u2005can't never let\u2005'em break our mind\nWe gotta stay\u2005strong, conquer and don't divide\nI come in peace, my heart already set on fire\nIf it ain't color, what's the difference from you and I?\nI'll let you decide or come up with some repeated lies\nI'm just tired of my kind gotta be the one to die\nLookin' in the sky, I know you with me, I can't cry\nStandin' what I stand on, I can't never switch sides\nSometimes I just wanna pop out on 'em and flip by\nBut I put my head on, I pray, I stay from off the route\nThinkin' 'bout my niggas, I ain't seen 'em in a while\nThinkin' 'bout my son, I just had another child\nI been thinkin' back on bro, like, \"What the fuck we gon' do now?\"\nOn this road to redemption, this shit get rocky and it's wild\nLet me tell you 'bout it\n\nI'm so dumb that I was thinkin' that they could\nWhen they really can't, yeah\nI was thinkin' that they was, when they really ain't\nIt's my fault, I can't blame no one\nIf we take off now, we can catch the sun\nMaybe watch it set, have sex, get some rest\nI'm so dumb that I was thinkin' that they could\nWhen they really can't, yeah\nI was thinkin' that they was, when they really ain't\nIt's my fault, I can't blame no one\nIf we take off now, we can catch the sun\nMaybe watch it set, have sex, get some rest\nYou might also like\nKnow you be behind me if it ever came to this\nBut I never would've thought that we'll have to take this risk\nOr ever be in this position, just keep ridin', don't go missing\nIf we in this together, this the way it 'posed to feel\nI'm going out with a bang, I'm tellin' you what it is\nIf I get racial profiled where I live\n'Cause my crib bigger than theirs, or my cars up to date\nOr it's probably be my girl shape, they probably wanna date her\nOr they heard I got my cake up, middle finger to them haters\nMy life finally matters, I got up and I'ma stay up\nI know it lookin' like a dream, but it ain't everything it seem\nAin't no tellin' where I be if I ain't have God or ain't have my team\nCan't let 'em trick me out the streets, I got a mind of my own\nI left the house at sixteen, I told my Mama, \"I'm grown\"\nBeen through a lot of situations, I can handle my own\nIf I had only one call, I know you pick up the phone\nIf they ain't with us, we gone\n\nI'm so dumb that I was thinkin' that they could\nWhen they really can't, yeah\nI was thinkin' that they was, when they really ain't\nIt's my fault, I can't blame no one\nIf we take off now, we can catch the sun\nMaybe watch it set, have sex, get some rest\nI'm so dumb that I was thinkin' that they could\nWhen they really can't, yeah\nI was thinkin' that they was, when they really ain't\nIt's my fault, I can't blame no one\nIf we take off now, we can catch the sun\nMaybe watch it set, have sex, get some rest"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsGlobal Lyrics\nWe global now\n\nBought her baby Gucci strollers (Strollers)\nSwitch it up and I went global (Global)\nCan't play around, I had to grow up (Grow up)\nCheck out my neck, hell of a glo-up (Glo-up)\nThese niggas cap and that shit blow up\nMy dawg rappin', hope he blow up\nI need my checks without no hold-ups\nI put my city on my shoulders\nI told the truth in every story that I told 'em\nI fucked around and showed 'em\n\nAll of my whips got that new car smell\nDon't get it twisted, from the 'partments, I just park well\nI don't fuck with him, that nigga flawed, send him to voicemail\nCatch up with him, push up on him, tell him how we all feel\nMade myself a millionaire, only took a year, dawg\nThinkin' bout what I been through, I can make a tear fall\nLate night with them youngins, we was creepin', could've killed y'all\nWe ain't gon' do that internet beefin', that's for bitches, dawg\nI went up to space so they hatin', they can't lift off\nI can make your bitch eat my kids, every drip drop\nI come from trenches, we can't come outside in flip flops\nI done came so far, sittin' on the floor, watchin' the tip-off\nYou might also like\nBought her baby Gucci strollers (Strollers)\nSwitch it up and I went global (Global)\nCan't play around, I had to grow up (Grow up)\nCheck out my neck, hell of a glo-up (Glo-up)\nThese niggas cap and that shit blow up\nMy dawg rappin', hope he blow up\nI need my checks without no hold-ups\nI put my city on my shoulders\nI told the truth in every story that I told 'em\nI fucked around and showed 'em\n\nI put my all into this shit\nI worked so hard to get my wrist\nIt broke my heart but I didn't quit\nI had to ball with no assist\nI got 'em all on my drip\nGo with his move, he gon' get flipped (Yeah)\nI had to hustle for a meal, yeah\nAnd now I'm hustling in these M's, yeah\nGave Jock and Dee 200 years\nWhenever they call, I let 'em hear\nThem lawyers I got gon' lift they spirit\nThem niggas know I keep it real, yeah\nSometimes I feel like the floor is giving in on me\nI work so hard but I can't stop 'cause they depend on me\nI tried to holler, she didn't talk, but now her friend want me\nI see through all, and my life flawed, need no lens on us\nBought her baby Gucci strollers (Strollers)\nSwitch it up and I went global (Global)\nCan't play around, I had to grow up (Grow up)\nCheck out my neck, hell of a glo-up (Glo-up)\nThese niggas cap and that shit blow up\nMy dawg rappin', hope he blow up\nI need my checks without no hold-ups\nI put my city on my shoulders\nI told the truth in every story that I told 'em\nI fucked around and showed 'em"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsGet Money Lyrics\n(What's happenin', Chi Chi?)\n(Section 8 just straight cooked that motherfucker up)\nYeah\nSo we was at a\u2005gas\u2005station today, I\u2005told the bros, like\nLast one home\u2005owe a dub, know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd we all ridin' in foreigns, so\nThat shit super fun cuttin' all through traffic, sayin'\nKinda felt like I made it for a change\nThat's what I do\n\nLamborghini truck, big Dre in the cut\nBruh them Bentley-ed up behind me, know what's in my cup\nDoin' ninety in a thirty-five like I don't give a fuck (I'm sorry)\nAventador, I let lil' Q 'dem drive, make sure y'all don't hit nobody\nI can't lie, this rap shit got us livin' like we hit the lottery\nCrippin', knockin' niggas out, one punch like he got into boxing\nI been flying state to state for drip, I done got into shopping\nEvery other day, it's somethin' fake, I'm duckin' paparazzi\nHe ain't listen, they tapped his nugget\nLabel told me ain't got no budget\nThis ain't that, and that ain't 'bout nothing\nI got rich, but got folks still strugglin'\nI got bros give a fuck 'bout nothin'\nI got hoes, don't give a fuck 'bout fuckin'\nI ain't did that if she ain't got no butt\nMoney bring problems, okay, so what?\nPee them too real, they bought me a Rolls truck\nSent it back to get a newer version\nCullinan with the stars in it, got the captain seats in the back\nI want the white paint with the red guts, all my other cars need to match it\nThey be like, \"Ooh, ooh,\" off in traffic\nGotta put racin' gas in my track kit\nYou might also like\nGet money (Get money), get money (Get money)\nGet money (Get money), get money (Get money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money\nAll I do is get money (Get money), get money (Get money)\nGet money (Get money), get money (Get money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money, yeah\n\nHow you make a whole chorus about getting money? 'Cause all I do is get money\nMonday through Sunday, Sunday through Money\nIt ain't no stoppin', always gon' clock in\nAsk for my bookin' phone like I'm trappin'\nHe a good rapper, yeah, but he cappin'\nI treat my shows like I'm getting loads\nI gotta get off anywhere I go, yeah\nHop out alone, I'm in my zone\nMost of this shit I done did on my own\nNiggas want credit for shit that my mama did\nI really treat Lil DT like my mama kid\nBeen poppin' shit since I bought me that Bonneville\nI'm in Atlanta from Bankhead to Summerhill\nI can't play 'round 'cause I know it's kill\nAnd I know it's real, yeah\nGet money (Get money), get money (Get money)\nGet money (Get money), get money (Get money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money\nAll I do is get money (Get money), get money (Get money)\nGet money (Get money), get money (Get money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money (Money)\nI'm getting money"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsDeep End Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\nI know they ain't feelin' my pain\nI got codeine inside my veins, yeah\n\nI don't know who gassed you niggas up, go get a refill\nWe got them sticks, we in the field, we playing defense\nHe got his ratchet, no life jacket, ready to dive in\nLil homie thuggin', he can't even swim, he in the deep end\n\nThey offerin' the shooter the death penalty, won't tell on me\nI know if I go broke today, them same hoes gon' bail on me\nI got them throwin' salt, they steady tryna fuck up my recipe\nAmiri jeans, a hundred a pair, ain't nothin' about a nigga cheap\nSellin' weed in the projects, relapsed on the Hi-Tech\nTold the gang that we up next, put 'em on a G5 jet\nOverseas with my sidepiece, my queen, she gotta be a dimepiece\nWe gon' stick together like assigned seats, on that Dej Loaf, nigga, try me\nWhoever thought I'd put a hundred on my neck?\nWhoever thought that I'd say I'm the one up next?\nWhoever thought they'd ever consider me the best?\nWhoever thought, whoever thought, whoever thought?\n\nI don't know who gassed you niggas up, go get a refill\nWe got them sticks, we in the field, we playing defense\nHe got his ratchet, no life jacket, ready to dive in\nLil homie thuggin', he can't even swim, he in the deep end\nYou might also like\nGo and ask about me in the streets, they heard of me\nIf she find out I been creepin', she gon' murder me\nI ain't trippin', no complaints, I got my currency up\nOut of town, I let the windows down so they can see us\nI take the hitters around the globe, that's all I know (That's all I know)\nI met her last night she tried to give me her soul (Give me her soul)\nI got 'em hatin', they throwin' shots, they on their toes\nOne thing they know (One thing they know)\nOne thing they know (One thing they know)\nAin't gon let up on them niggas, once you try us, ain't gon' stop\nIf it's pressure, let me know, so we can pull up with them Glocks\nTryna dodge the bullshit and tryna make it to the top\nIf I never sell a record I'ma make it on the block\nHow you gon wait 'til I make it then try to help me? Nigga I don't need you (No help)\nI put the food on the table, nigga was hungry, I tried to feed you\nTreat all my niggas like bosses, nobody better, everyone equal (Yeah)\nReal talk this the sequel, hold it down for my people\n\nI don't know who gassed you niggas up, go get a refill\nWe got them sticks, we in the field, we playing defense\nHe got his ratchet, no life jacket, ready to dive in\nLil homie thuggin', he can't even swim, he in the deep end\nI don't know who gassed you niggas up, go get a refill\nWe got them sticks, we in the field, we playing defense\nHe got his ratchet, no life jacket, ready to dive in\nLil homie thuggin', he can't even swim, he in the deep end"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easSocial Distancing Lyrics\n(Section 8 just straight cooked this motherfucker up)\n(What's happenin', Chi Chi?)\n\nI told her to fly\u2005and\u2005she scared of\u2005the virus, I sent her a\u2005private to get here\nI made four hundred dollars off of each of these pounds, I ain't trippin', it's gon' be a good year\nSolomon drivin' while I got my hands on the chopper, I'm keepin' my eyes in the rearview\nI'm from Atlanta where they pay to triple cross niggas, they'll dap you up, then they'll kill you\nThese niggas fake and I'm real, I don't feel 'em\nMy niggas takers, ain't worried 'bout 'em stealing\nI run with apes and some baby gorillas\nI know a few (Shh), I can buy me a nigga\nSaid I wouldn't change but my change a lil' bigger\nFour-carat ring leave a scar if I hit you\nLook like a spaceship, got stars in my vehicle\nThese niggas fake and I don't wanna deal with 'em all\n\nI'm social distancing\nMan, these niggas can't touch me, I can't get sick\nGood excuse for me to pour up medicine (Syrup)\nShe say I ain't got no heart and I'm devil-sent\nI'm on some savage shit, ah\nI got the drop on the opps, switched the cars\nI got a hundred inside of a drum\nWe pull up clapping, a round of applause\nWe just gon' say that they won the award\nYou might also like\nSlide in the daytime, then come back at night\nWe gon' make sure that nobody play with us\nThey make me mad, I'ma turn up\nLet's talk about money, I swear I been savin' up\nI'm really sick with this shit, got 'em throwin' up\nHe hit a lick for a brick, now he goin' up\nMy niggas rapping, you see us, we blowin' up\nHit the bitch for a rack, then ignore her\nI'm so sick of these rats and these whores\nI might marry my girl and just go away\nEat her out if she rich, got expensive taste\nWe ain't got rush, told the pilot to fuckin' wait\nAin't no way I can go on no fuckin' date\nI don't know her and she don't know me\nMy lil' boy 'dem turnt up at a young age\nYou can say that it run in my genes\n\nI'm social distancing\nMan, these niggas can't touch me, I can't get sick\nGood excuse for me to pour up medicine (Syrup)\nShe say I ain't got no heart and I'm devil-sent\nI'm on some savage shit, ah\nI got the drop on the opps, switched the cars\nI got a hundred inside of a drum\nWe pull up clapping, a round of applause\nWe just gon' say that they won the award\nI'm social distancing\nMan, these niggas can't touch me, I can't get sick\nGood excuse for me to pour up medicine (Syrup)\nShe say I ain't got no heart and I'm devil-sent\nI'm on some savage shit, ah\nI got the drop on the opps, switched the cars\nI got a hundred inside of a drum\nWe pull up clapping, a round of applause\nWe just gon' say that they won the award\nI'm social distancing\nMan, these niggas can't touch me, I can't get sick"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsFor You Lyrics\nBaby, why you trippin'? I be right here for you\nI be right here for you\nAnything that you want, I will provide that for you\nI provide that for you\nYou know I got bitches, never put none 'em before you\nNever put them before you\nI get you everything that you want\nAll I ask that you don't blow my phone up\n\nBaby, I'm in love, I admit it\nI know that you think I want to hit it\nBut baby, I ain't got time for no visits\nBut when I get some time we gon' kick it\nBaby, we gon' live it all the way up\nJust stay down for me, I'm on my way up\nThem other bitches already done changed up\nBaby, is you real or you gon' change up?\nFuckin' with a nigga like me dangerous\nWould you still be here if I got banged up?\nMan, I been through that before, they changed up\nNow they be like why he actin' famous?\nBaby, would you ride for a nigga?\nGet on top and do the job for a nigga?\nIf I need you to run to a nigga (Would you run?)\nBaby tell me you gon' run to a nigga (You better run)\nIf you need me I'ma come for you, baby (Here I come, here I come)\nI'ma be right there\nIf you need me I'ma come to you, baby (Here I come, here I come)\nI'ma be right there\nBaby, why you trippin', I ain't got time for that\nI been tryna get it on my grind for that\nTold you pull up, you trip, never minding that\nI ain't never answer that, I'm twine with that\nYou say that you gone, well then I'm fine with that\nI will never trip, I'm never calling back\nI can never fall in love with you no more\nI done gave you all of that\nYou might also like\nBaby, why you trippin'? I be right here for you\nI be right here for you\nAnything that you want, I will provide that for you\nI provide that for you\n\nForgi's on your whip, I'ma tryna slide on\nI been tryna kick it with a rider\nBaby, I be busy, I be tied up\nYou ain't gotta love me, just don't lie though\nWe gon' take them trips 'cause ain't nobody else as fly as us\nBaby, we gon' let 'em have it\nWe go where they can't go\nPimpin', where'd my cane go?\nI'm the same lil' nigga, I ain't changed though\nThey get salty when I pulled up in that Range Rover\nYeah, yeah\n\nBaby, why you trippin'? I be right here for you\nI be right here for you\nAnything you needin', I provide that for you\nI provide that for you\nYou know I got ho's, I never put none 'em before you\nNever put none 'em before you\nBaby, you my world and I swear I adore you\nAnd I swear I adore you\nLate nights, call on the phone\nYou say where I'm at, I'm on the way\nTwo hours later you be callin'\nThought you told me you was on the way\nTell you I got caught up, I got busy\nBut I had another bitch with me\nStill when I get it there, you gon' get it\nSoon as I pull up, she gon' get it\n\nI ain't got no time for these bitches 'cause I'm on my grind\nBaby, are you trippin'? I been on my grind (I'm grindin')\n4PF, you digg?"}
{"text":"19 ContributorsBest of Me Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\nStill poppin' Percocet\nDrankin' lean too\nShit I gotta deal with\n\nCaught a few cases, I been on the road but overall a nigga still free\nI done been robbed I know how it feel, a nigga gon' have to come kill me\nI been through it all, I came this far how a nigga not gon' feel me\nAin't no facade, no cap in my raps everything that I say is the real me\nI give all my problems to God\nLet him handle all my enemies\nI get on my knees and beg him please I just hoping that he hearin' me\nI came too far to stop now, I can't let a nigga get ahead of me\nI came too far to stop now, I can't let a nigga get the best of me\n\nRemember that shoot out we had that time we thought a kid died\nOnly thing I know when we pulled up, everybody hopped out firin'\nI remember on the way back, everybody in the car quiet\nI'm just knowing everybody thinkin' we just pulled a homicide, homicide\nSee me on the news at the spot\nTryna see who they say got shot\nI'm the first one stood up, told my brothers y'all all I got\nKnow if somebody seen us they gon' talk\nPhone ringin' I thought it was a thottie\nThinkin' damn, \"we just caught a body\"\nHopin' everybody keep it solid\nFuck the nigga, I'm thinkin' bout the kid\nThe nigga shouldn't did what he did\nI'm just glad a nigga still here for all the stupid shit that we did\nGotta be here for my kid, gotta watch my son get big\nEverything I say is no lie, I'm just glad the kid didn't die\nYou might also like\nCaught a few cases, I been on the road but overall a nigga still free\nI done been robbed I know how it feel, a nigga gon' have to come kill me\nI been through it all, I came this far how a nigga not gon' feel me\nAin't no facade, no cap in my raps everything that I say is the real me\nI give all my problems to God\nLet him handle all my enemies\nI get on my knees and beg him please I just hoping that he hearin' me\nI came too far to stop now, I can't let a nigga get ahead of me\nI came too far to stop now, I can't let a nigga get the best of me\n\nAll I see is young niggas on Instagram with them sticks\nI never post no gun, but when it's smoke I bet I send a blitz\nThat bullshit that you on thinkin' cool get you a 100 years\nI bet yo partner fuck yo bitch, I bet you don't hear nothin' from the clique\nI ain't gon' tell you no lie, this shit'll make a grown man cry\nFolks give yo ass that time, you'll never see the outside\nAll you do is think and wonder why\nKiss the good life goodbye\nNow you gotta fight to survive, ain't no guns all you got is knives\nHear a nigga sharpen 'em at night\nYoung niggas gone on the ice\nGrown men fucking grown men they'll never tell you that part\nBuy a phone you gotta have a spot\nEveryday a nigga get knocked\nSearch team turn to the narcs, man this shit can really get hard\nCaught a few cases, I been on the road but overall a nigga still free\nI done been robbed I know how it feel, a nigga gon' have to come kill me\nI been through it all, I came this far how a nigga not gon' feel me\nAin't no facade, no cap in my raps everything that I say is the real me\nI give all my problems to God\nLet him handle all my enemies\nI get on my knees and beg him please I just hoping that he hearin' me\nI came too far to stop now, I can't let a nigga get ahead of me\nI came too far to stop now, I can't let a nigga get the best of me"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easEspa\u00f1ol\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439California Breeze Lyrics\nAll you ever wanted was someone\nTo care for your\u2014\n\nYeah, made it out the trenches, this type of life I can't get used to\nNumber one on YouTube, private dinner in Malibu\nShow you how to work your stick\nAin't nobody gon' handle you\nPut you in a Phantom 'cause you my lil' boo\nReady for whatever, I tie up my boots\nEverybody goin' the same route, so, I switched up my route\nNiggas ain't be what they talkin' 'bout, so I switched up my crew\nActin' like you love me knowin' it's flawed, so, I'm gon' fake it too\nWhat else am I supposed to do?\nAware of my surroundings, I don't fuck with y'all, don't come around me\n\"Baby switched up,\" how that sound? Like a nigga in his feelings\nYou can't name somethin' I did flawed, I'm a dyin' breed of the realest\nI ain't never worry about another nigga, so in that case, I'm the biggest (Nigga)\nI been travelin' around the world, my pivot's still ain't left the business\nShe got everything I want, ain't no need to fuck with these bitches\nYou can go and have a lil' fun, I ain't gon' trip, baby, I get it\nAin't bullshit in this game, wherever this plane land, I'm the littest nigga there\nTurn your back on me, I ain't even care\nIf you need me, I'm still gon' be there\nTell me, how the fuck is this shit fair?\nSwitch on who? I went there\nFuck them too, I'm prepared\nI run shit, get that clear\nHeart broke, can't drop no tears\nWas what it was, is what it is\nYou might also like\nCalifornia breeze, take her out to eat\nStop at a lil' party\nEnd up at the big house\nI can't fuck with shawty 'cause she got a big mouth\nPull up in a 'Rari, hop out like a big dawg\nGet my shit together, feel like I done took two years off\nBookin' on my schedule, I ain't rich enough to chill out\nI watched you turn sour, I still don't know how to feel 'bout it\nMajority of 'em folded, but I'm still solid\n\nI'm still out here, still don't know how to feel about it\nEarly in the mornin' talkin' to Marquis about it\nWonderin', \"Should I let it go, or, we beefin' 'bout it?\"\nKnowin' that I'll go cold on you for weeks about it\nAnd it weren't even that deep, but, that's just how it be with me\nI can't lie, she be fuckin' me good, but, girl, you fuck me better\nI'm not surprised that you stereotypin' to be a lil' guy\nBut, if I can have a second of yo' time, try to elevate yo' mind\nWe can crush 'em on every level, I'm tellin' you\nI fell in love with generatin' revenue\nI know they gon' try to push you from the top, so I'm careful\nI put niggas under my wing like they my nephew\nI'ma give you every piece of game I got when I catch you\nI'm just tryna let you feel the breeze with me (Yeah)\nCalifornia breeze, take her out to eat\nStop at a lil' party\nEnd up at the big house\nI can't fuck with shawty 'cause she got a big mouth\nPull up in a 'Rari, hop out like a big dawg\nGet my shit together, feel like I done took two years off\nBookin' on my schedule, I ain't rich enough to chill out\nI watched you turn sour, I still don't know how to feel 'bout it\nMajority of 'em folded, but I'm still solid\n\nNo, no, no, no\nI'm supposed to be gone\nBut, shit, where I'm gon' go?\nTryna hold it in, I can't let this shit show\nIt can't be forced, it don't work, let it go\nI tried to tell you, you act like you know"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsErrbody Lyrics\nFirin' at everybody\nFirin' at everybody\n(Section 8 just straight cooked this motherfucker up)\nFirin' at everybody\n\nI'm firin' at everybody\nHelicopter the middle of the hood, I'm flyer than everybody\nAll this fame these niggas be chasin', I swear I don't care 'bout it\nBoy, you play, you gon' die front of everybody\nLeave some blood on the street, buy some red bottoms\nCaught an L, but I wish that they headshot 'em\nFree my nigga Longway, yeah, the feds got him\n\nI used to pray for a plug who gon' go out the way\nAnd come back with a lot of them bitches\nI used to dream about condos when we leavin' Lenox\nNow I stay on top of them bitches\nI wouldn't give a damn if he ran him up a whole billion\nI still wouldn't acknowledge the nigga\nHe put my name in a song, what the fuck is he on?\nI don't care, boy, we gotta go get him\nHouse big as fuck in the middle of nowhere\nI dick her down, I don't care what my ho wear\nI made Lil' Cam spin the block on a four-wheel\nNah, for real, spin the block on a four-wheel\nFive million dollars, for me, that ain't no deal\nI done made that times six in like three years\nOff this rap shit, I can't even talk about this trap shit\nI just hope they can take it, I keep me a stallion like Megan\nA residency out in Vegas\nMight fly to L.A. and go fuck with LeBron and the Lakers\nCome back to Atlanta with Jayda\nBruh told us to take care of the neighbors and stack all the paper\nWhatever we want, buy it later\nI know how to shit on a hater and handle the business\nWhatever God give me, I'm grateful\nYou might also like\nI'm firin' at everybody\nHelicopter the middle of the hood, I'm flyer than everybody\nAll this fame these niggas be chasin', I swear I don't care 'bout it\nBoy, you play, you gon' die front of everybody\nLeave some blood on the street, buy some red bottoms\nCaught an L, but I wish that they headshot 'em\nFree my nigga Longway, yeah, the feds got him\n\nCartier watches for everyone 'round me\nI ran it up, how the fuck could you down me?\nShe set for life, how the fuck could you clown her?\nBought all this water, I'm never gon' drown\nI'm in the 'yo, I'm perfectin' my sound\nI helped 'em out and they let me down again\nI ain't comin' back around again\nFell in love and I found a friend\nI done geared up the motor\nMy brother in prison in Polo\nI jumped in the game and went loco\nI put on these clothes like a hobo\nThat's layers of drip\nI showed my ass in Phipps\nYou play, ya mans get killed\nSaid that before, but I'm dead for real\nLil' bro jumpin' 'round like his leg done healed\nI ran it up off of vacuum seal\nIf I fall off today, I'm a legend still\nBro showed me the way, I ain't never steal\nThis Glock ain't no prop, it'll pop for real\nI fuck with that syrup, I don't pop no pills\nMy young niggas turnt, they don't got no deals\nI need me a billion so I can chill\nI'm drivin' like I ain't got no license still\nMy Trackhawk move like it got nitrogen, I'm poppin' seals\nI'm firin' at everybody\nHelicopter the middle of the hood, I'm flyer than everybody\nAll this fame these niggas be chasin', I swear I don't care 'bout it\nBoy, you play, you gon' die front of everybody\nLeave some blood on the street, buy some red bottoms\nCaught an L, but I wish that they headshot 'em\nFree my nigga Longway, yeah, the feds got him\n\nI paid attention and found out the recipe\nI take a seat and they still won't get 'head of me\nI'm on my shit, now a bitch can't get next to me\nYou ain't got a hundred thou', you can't have sex with me\nAin't showed the best of me yet\nAnd ain't in nobody debt, I'm somethin' like a vet\nI bought my big brother a 'Vette\nMy numbers so good, my label probably owe me a check\nThey play with Lil Baby, I swear it's gon' go down\nThe biggest lil' nigga that's over at Motown\nJumped off the porch and went straight kicked the door down\nFlip the clip, switch the clip, then some more rounds\nRappers fake and be hatin', I don't go 'round\nI took 12 on a chase, I had four ounces\nAsk around, we them guys, I do no clownin'\nIf I can, I'ma try keep the smoke down\nOnce it's up, then it's stuck, it can't go down\nLike to switch where I sleep, I got four houses\nEvery time the heat come, I make four thousand\nBig done gave me the game and I ran with it\nMilk the game 'til I quit, I ain't playin' with it\nCould've been hit your bitch, I be sparin' niggas\nMake me mad, I'ma call up them grave diggers\nBought my mom a new crib, and it's way bigger\nNever been to it once, that's a great feelin'\nI'ma go there when I get a chance\nI lost five hundred racks before I signed a deal\nSwear to God, I still got my advance\nYeah, I'm lit, I been savin' this guala up\nYeah, I hit, but she didn't get a follow-up\nAin't no reason to beef with no one about none of these women\nI promise they swallow us all\nI'm firin' at everybody\nHelicopter the middle of the hood, I'm flyer than everybody\nAll this fame these niggas be chasin', I swear I don't care 'bout it\nBoy, you play, you gon' die front of everybody\nLeave some blood on the street, buy some red bottoms\nCaught an L, but I wish that they headshot 'em\nFree my nigga Longway, yeah, the feds got him"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsCrush a Lot Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\n\nI can't fuck with shawty, know she\u2019ll tell\nSlim shit, look like Draya Michele\nI been goin' crazy, givin' \u2019em hell\nShe ain't tryna go with me, I'ma pay her\nI crush a lot, baby girl, I'm a player\nConnect the dots then I plug up the scale\nIf we get caught, they gon' give me the chair\nFuck the law, make 'em earn what they pay 'em\n\nAin't no back and forth with no bitches, this ain\u2019t tennis\nRolls Royce truck, bitch, it ain\u2019t rented\nAnd they braggin' \u2019bout bitches, I promise we hit 'em\nI flooded my wrist, let the bros split a million\nAt this point I'm heartless I ain't got no feelings\nBuy every building in the hood for my children\nLike a Drake song, got your vibe feelin\u2019 groovy\nWith no phone, we can make us a movie\nI ain't in my bag, I still got my feet out\nIf we wanted smoke with y'all, you couldn't be out\nFree the bros, buy my shit off the kiosk\nI'm at the vibe with the spot, this the creep house\nLil' shawty suck it like she just took her teeth out\nFive percent tint on the whip, you can't see out\nReady to set it off, Queen Latifah\nThese niggas talk like bitches, see what they be 'bout\nYou might also like\nI can't fuck with shawty, know she'll tell\nSlim shit, look like Draya Michele\nI been goin' crazy, givin' 'em hell\nShe ain't tryna go with me, I'ma pay her\nI crush a lot, baby girl, I'm a player\nConnect the dots then I plug up the scale\nIf we get caught, they gon' give me the chair\nFuck the law, make 'em earn what they pay 'em\n\nAin't no complaining, money coming in\nPut it all up, do it all again\nFirst you get a mil', then it's times ten\nYoungest out the crew, AMG Benz\nStand up like a man, take it on the chin\nThey got consequences in this life of sin\nLaugh about it, go in Gucci, spend a ten\nWhen you come home, we gon' all win\nGo in any club and make it thunderstorm, this shit reckless\nHe gon' knock you off with his Rollie on\nDrive the Rolls Royce like a hotbox, really came from nothin'\nOnly ride with my security because I can't be armed\nCan't get caught with another gun\nThey gon' know me when I'm gone\nThey hear my pain inside my songs\nIt's like a switch, I cut it on\nPills kick in, gettin' in my zone\nDo my job, ain't see no wrong\nI'm never talkin' on them phones\nFeds gon' try to do us wrong\nMan, they got my nigga Long\nLately I just been alone\nMy cup, my strap, this microphone\nNobody know what's goin on\nJust glad I made it off the road\nGranddaddy showed me life is a gamble\nEver since I been on them dice\nThey gon' suck it up like a bowl of rice\nI'ma give it to them niggas every time\nI can't fuck with shawty, know she'll tell\nSlim shit, look like Draya Michele\nI been goin' crazy, givin' 'em hell\nShe ain't tryna go with me, I'ma pay her\nI crush a lot, baby girl, I'm a player\nConnect the dots then I plug up the scale\nIf we get caught, they gon' give me the chair\nFuck the law, make 'em earn what they pay 'em"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsNo Friends Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\n\nI come from a different type of cloth than these niggas\nI'ma buy a different type of car than these niggas\nAin't gon' fuck on none of these lil' bitches, they be hittin'\nI gotta switch it up, man, I gotta move different, I'm a boss nigga\nYeah, show them youngins how to level up\nFour Season hotel, sixty levels up\nBut I'm a resident\nIf you gon' do the crime, go hard, don't leave no evidence\nI got 'em all on my wave 'cause it's evident\nBut where was y'all when I was lost, ain't know where to go?\nShe think I'm fly, she like my pimpin', but I can't save no ho\nYou only get one chance to cross me, then it's say no more\nI gotta tell 'em go\nI ain't hit your baby mama, I hit her with the curveball\nI ain't hit your baby mama, I hit her with the curveball\nAnd I'm still the same young hitter, used to serve y'all\nDon't ever get it twisted, my youngins really flip shit\nMy youngins really flip shit, don't ever get it twisted\n'Cause I'll really flip shit\n\nI don't need no friends, I just wanna win\nI got this new Benz and it's all I need\nShe listen to her friends, they wanna get in\nShe don't understand that they'll slob on me\nIf I let 'em, ain't gon' let up, I'ma keep on stridin'\nHeard they lookin' for me, I can't tell 'cause I ain't hidin'\nIt don't matter if I'm frownin' 'cause my mama smilin'\nI done finally went legit, ain't no more public housing\nI gotta stay from 'round them\nYou might also like\nI'm gon' pull up AMG like I don't know my alphabet\nYoungins ain't on Instagram but they still want a blue check\nIf 12 go'n grab one more of my dawgs, I'ma sue the vet\nI thought they all wanna see me ball, they'd rather go hide the nets\nAll these pointers in my watch but my Rolex ain't tellin' (Hell nah)\nKnow the drank the devil but when I'm on it, feel like I'm in heaven\nIn the hood shootin' dice, ask what it playin', we told him, \"7\"\nUsed to go to church 'til I seen MC serve the reverend\nPockets gettin' biggie, no Smalls, Faith Evans\nWonder why she don't wanna fuck when I ain't wearin' my necklace\nThey ain't picture me like this so I sent all them selfies\nPray you don't get caught in the mix, 'cause when we slide, it's deadly\nI'ma pay her for that pussy, I won't lie, they petty\nNine hundred on jeans, we came from wearin' Moschino\nWhen the paper comin' in, it'll drive you senile\nIt'll drive you crazy (It'll drive you insane)\nPray you take these lines and look back, oh, they all faded\n\nI don't need no friends, I just wanna win\nI got this new Benz and it's all I need\nShe listen to her friends, they wanna get in\nShe don't understand that they'll slob on me\nIf I let 'em, ain't gon' let up, I'ma keep on stridin'\nHeard they lookin' for me, I can't tell 'cause I ain't hidin'\nIt don't matter if I'm frownin' 'cause my mama smilin'\nI done finally went legit, ain't no more public housing\nI gotta stay from 'round them"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsLive Off My Closet Lyrics\n(Who made this beat?)\nDrippin'\n(Twysted Genius, baby)\nKnow what I'm sayin', drippin', know what I'm sayin'\n\nI can\u2005live\u2005off my closet\u2005before I go broke\nI got too\u2005many cars, I ain't payin' no note (Note)\nToo many chains, go to sleep, I might choke (Choke)\nI be sippin' on syrup, I ain't drivin' no boat (Boat)\nWe in the store, she don't know which one gold\nThis bitch think that she slick, but I'm buyin' 'em both\nWe on Rodeo, lil' bro got his heater\nI walk in Moncler and buy everyone coats\n\nI'm a hyena, since everyone G.O.A.T.'s\nTeam full of shooters, pull up and they score\nI got the drop on the opp, it's a go\nI get two hundred racks every night for a show\nI know it's a blessing\nChristian Dior and Jordan 11's ('Leven)\nI just hope I can dunk into Heaven (Heaven)\nI just fucked on an actress for breakfast, I hope she ain't messy\nI just be fuckin' bitches, I don't be textin' 'em\nIt ain't no in the middle, shoot the messenger\nHe won't let nobody get the best of him\nOh, you don't know Scotty? Take a Tesla\nPlus she won't let me get it in, so I left her there\nI got too many women, Baby Hefner\nI let the lil' bros keep the extra\nI used the baking soda, we was stretchin' 'em\nMaking these deals, numbers come in decimals\nOr I might get bored and buy a bitch a hair salon\nI'ma pay for it, bruh, ain't never have to front\nI make a million dollars every other month\nAs soon as I get done, I'ma give her some\nNot like the rest of 'em, I'm a different one\nI had to shoot back, I ain't get to run\nCan't let a fuck nigga take my mama's son\nYou might also like\nI can live off my closet before I go broke\nI got too many cars, I ain't payin' no note (Note)\nToo many chains, go to sleep, I might choke (Choke)\nI be sippin' on syrup, I ain't drivin' no boat (Boat)\nWe in the store, she don't know which one gold\nThis bitch think that she slick, but I'm buyin' 'em both\nWe on Rodeo, lil' bro got his heater\nI walk in Moncler and buy everyone coats\nI can live off my closet before I go broke\nI got too many cars, I ain't payin' no note (Note)\nToo many chains, go to sleep, I might choke (Choke)\nI be sippin' on syrup, I ain't drivin' no boat (Boat)\nWe in the store, she don't know which one gold\nThis bitch think that she slick, but I'm buyin' 'em both\nWe on Rodeo, lil' bro got his heater\nI walk in Moncler and buy everyone coats\n\nGrippin' that rod and I'm breakin' that law (Yeah)\nI got too much Givenchy in the closet (Yeah)\nCount up the cash and I'm drowsy (Yeah)\nAnd I got more oil than a Saudi (Yeah)\nI don't know what made 'em doubt me (Yeah)\nMade a hundred M's, shouldn't doubt me (Yeah)\nI got the jeweler, the mula (Yeah)\nI go to Jerusalem, they callin' me daddy (Yeah)\nPray to Young Pluto and kick it like judo (Yeah)\nI'm flippin' this money the fastest (Yeah)\nBitches in love with the kid, really fuck with the kid, they gon' follow the protocol\nGo out the country, smoke on the best bud, fuck on the best whores\nAin't no more regular diamonds\nMy shit coming with a passport\nAnd ain't worried 'bout the card declinin' (Yeah)\nI got three mil' in cash at the Waldorf (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI done went to New York to spend at Dior (Yeah)\nI got the gas like BP (Pluto)\nThrow the party when you see the opps, nigga\nNo clown shit, we send 'em six feet\nI done spent millions in CC (What up?)\nI done made millions with RiRi (Super)\nI can live off my closet before I go broke\nI got too many cars, I ain't payin' no note (Note)\nToo many chains, go to sleep, I might choke (Choke)\nI be sippin' on syrup, I ain't drivin' no boat (Boat)\nWe in the store, she don't know which one gold\nThis bitch think that she slick, but I'm buyin' 'em both\nWe on Rodeo, lil' bro got his heater\nI walk in Moncler and buy everyone coats\nI can live off my closet before I go broke\nI got too many cars, I ain't payin' no note (Note)\nToo many chains, go to sleep, I might choke (Choke)\nI be sippin' on syrup, I ain't drivin' no boat (Boat)\nWe in the store, she don't know which one gold\nThis bitch think that she slick, but I'm buyin' 'em both\nWe on Rodeo, lil' bro got his heater\nI walk in Moncler and buy everyone coats\n\nI been making these deals, numbers come with decimals\nI been making these deals, numbers come with decimals\nI been making these deals, numbers come with decimals\nI been making these deals, numbers come with decimals"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsDreams 2 Reality Lyrics\nAl Geno on the track\nG just bounced back from a headshot\nTrappin' by the roadblock\nI only give until my legs out\nBeen a real nigga 'til my legs stop\nReal trapper, my legs tired\nReal trapper, my legs tired\nYeah, yeah\n\nMy life was hard, it just had to be (Yeah)\nWatch me turn my dreams to reality (Yeah)\nI'm runnin' outfield, them demons after me (Yeah)\nWhen I pop these Percs, I don't do it happily\nGot a little fame, all of a sudden they change\nFeel like shovel with dirt thrown side of my name\nI was so blind, I just couldn't see the hate\nForgave all them niggas, I'm still Ray\n\nWould have never started rappin' if I knew this shit had came with this\nIf I had never made a hit, would they be on my dick?\nI just been sittin' back and pushin' pounds, just gettin' fit\nAnd I got a 60 on my right wrist, I'm movin' fast like lightnin'\nThese other rappers tryna bite me, your baby mama wanna bite me\nI swear to God she triflin', I pass her on 'cause I'm righteous\nI run the jungle like Tarzan, that codeine was like poison\nI cut back, I feel awesome, no playoffs but I'm ballin'\nHad a good day, I scored 40 and I ain't talkin' points\nI close my eyes, I still have flashbacks when I was in the joint\nI hit my knees, I'm thankin' God, I'm prayin' every mornin'\nI check the schedule and I'm booked up, I'm finally tourin'\nI'm goin' where I wanna go, doin' what I wanna do\nI can screw who I wanna screw, I came from nothin', I can never lose\nTurned my dreams into reality, I thought that you'd be glad for me\nI can't believe that you mad at me, damn, dawg, I'm proud of you\nMy life was garbage, too, but I did what I 'posed to do\nAnd I went and bought the latest coupe, told my young nigga stay in school\nBut he ain't listen, now he got a .45 in the kitchen with a biscuit ready to flip it\nYou might also like\nMy life was hard, it just had to be (Had to be)\nWatch me turn my dreams to reality (Reality)\nI'm runnin' outfield, them demons after me (I feel 'em after me)\nWhen I pop these Percs, I don't do it happily (I don't do it happily)\nGot little fame, all of a sudden they change\nFeel like shovel with dirt thrown side of my name\nI was so blind, I just couldn't see the hate\nForgave all them niggas, I'm still Ray\n\nWould have never started rappin' if I knew this shit had came with this\nI'm on top of all these niggas, I can see when all these angels piss\nThe way my nigga crossed me up, I thought his name was Chris\nDon't wanna fuck around and kill my dawg, they gon' do me like I'm Vick\nYeah, they gon' really hate me if I sign a deal\nI'ma go buy a Wraith, crash it on purpose, blame it on the pills\nWhen Lil' Joe be slidin', it be look like he headed to second base\nI see the hate, it look like makeup, it's all on their face\nI can't see Fred no more so I be talkin' to his headstone\nSometimes I wanna catch a body, but I put my head on\nCrawford finna touch down, he in the red zone\nI sure got tired of sendin' him naked pictures of my red bone\nYeah, G just bounced right back off a headshot\nYeah, I won't fuck that bitch if she ain't got no ass shots\nPut them choppers on the jet, we gon' air it out\n25 hundred on some trap gear, we gon weigh it out\nToo much dirty money, won't put that shit in the shower\nEven when lights out, boy, that money still bring power\nCan't serve a lot of white, but that shit look like baby powder\nGot my gun at every show, I don't care if it ain't crowded\nI barely sleep, but when I do, I just be dreamin'\nThey know I came from the bottom like bikinis\nWhen I can't get hold to them Percs, I be fiendin'\nWhy would you tell me that you love me and you don't mean it?\nMy life was hard, it just had to be (Yeah)\nWatch me turn my dreams to reality (Yeah)\nI'm runnin' outfield, them demons after me (Yeah)\nWhen I pop these Percs, I don't do it happily\nGot a little fame, all of a sudden they change\nFeel like shovel with dirt thrown side of my name\nI was so blind, I just couldn't see the hate\nForgave all them niggas, I'm still Ray\n\nWould have never started rappin' if I knew this shit had came with this\nI'm on top of all these niggas, I can see when all these angels piss\nThe way my nigga crossed me up, I thought his name was Chris\nDon't wanna fuck around and kill my dawg, they gon' do me like I'm Vick\nYeah, they gon' really hate me if I sign a deal\nI'ma go buy a Range, crash it on purpose, blame it on the pills\nWhen Lil' Joe be slidin', it be look like he headed to second base\nI see the hate, it look like makeup, it's all on their face"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easGet Ugly Lyrics\nATL Jacob, ATL Jacob\n\nIt can get ugly (Huh)\nWould you leave or stay like you love\u2005me?\nFrom\u2005the bottom, all\u2005I know is the struggle\nCan't get\u2005no job, so all I know is the hustle\n\nYeah, bankroll\u205fgettin'\u205fbigger\u205f(Nigga)\nEmpire gettin' built\u205fup, givin' racks\u205fto the right nigga\nI can get a pack overnight, ain't nothin' like you niggas\nSippin' syrup 'til my body numb, I ain't tryna catch no feelings\nI ain't never bite no nigga\nShe give me brain now 'cause I'm famous\nI got these chains on, gettin' tangled\nI'm in the big Benz, not a Wrangler\nIt's still a Jeep though, it ain't cheap, ho\nI'm just happy they gon' free Rico\nDodgin' stank hoes and R.I.C.O.\nOn a Sprinter van with them Dracos\nProbably ridin' around with Starlito\nI'ma bust it down with my lil' bros\nBuy cars for all of my kinfolk\nIf the sack ever did get low\nGod knows it's gon' be a robbery\nWhy the fuck everybody callin' me?\nEverybody who left took a part of me\nExcuse my drip, yeah, pardon me\nShow me a list of who hard as me\nYou might also like\nIt can get ugly (Huh)\nWould you leave or stay like you love me?\nFrom the bottom, all I know is the struggle\nCan't get no job, so all I know is the hustle\n\nRight back after tour, ain't got time for no attitude\nWhy I cannot lose, feel like I had to do it\nI'm in my savage mood, put a lil' back into it\nTreat me with gratitude, I ain't no average dude\nNeed my rims offset like Cardi B\nThis might be my hardest beat\nPut the blame on Pee, he started me\nGot the game from Big, he guarded me\nCoach threw me in, took me out the streets\nNow I get racks to rap on beats\nI still know plugs with packs for cheap\nKillers owe favors, they'll whack for free\nNever did fraud, I got cash receipts\nLotta niggas get they swag from me\nDon't tell nobody 'bout bags from me\nYou were not in the street, you wouldn't last a week\nMy bitch so bad, I pass on freaks\nI'm here 'cause my granny be prayin' for me\nNone of these niggas ain't playin' with me\nGot hitters that'll sit in that can for me, yeah\nIt can get ugly (Huh)\nWould you leave or stay like you love me?\nFrom the bottom, all I know is the struggle\nCan't get no job, so all I know is the hustle, yeah"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsWord on the Street Lyrics\nWe Global now\n\nWord on the street, they got a lil' bitty hit out\nReally run Atlanta, I can make a nigga get out\nIf anything, I have more respect for you bitches\nNigga, you a bitch, we don't shoot and miss (Nah)\nGlock-19 unfold and it spit out\nDouble R underneath the door when I get out\nClutchin' on my fans, had to tell lil' bro to chill out\nHow the fuck your whole gang down the road and you still out?\nUndercover rat, pussy nigga, you a sellout\nEvery show I get either packed or it sell out\nI been ballin' hard, you on the bench, you gotta sit out\nKnow a nigga mad, he can't even put a hit out\nMiddle of the winter, drop top with a mink on\nBad lil' vibe, yeah, she say that's her theme song\nI done made a whole million dollars off a flip phone\nNo Soulja Boy, that bitch ain't even have a ringtone\n\nSkinny Mike Amiris like I skate\nWe just fuck around, we don't date\nI went straight up there to Mars, so they hate\nAnd I got a lot of cars, they all up to date\nI was at the bottom, literally I was boxed in\nThen I took off, I ain't have no other option\nI was too gone, now a nigga just pop shit\nI was in Japan, buyin' drip and blowin' yen\nYou might also like\nCall overseas, tell them youngins to spin again\nI don't throw rocks and hide my hand 'cause I'm a man\nMillion cash in the book bag, I'm a big dog\nThrew my shot at any nigga, bitch, I think I'm Chris Paul\nSippin' all these meds, nigga gotta be throwed off\nI was gettin' head, fucked around and I dozed off\nRolls Royce truck, crank it and let the nose out\nEverything I said, I went did it, boy, I'm the chosen child\n\nSkinny Mike Amiris like I skate\nWe just fuck around, we don't date\nI went straight up there to Mars, so they hate\nAnd I got a lot of cars, they all up to date\nI was at the bottom, literally I was boxed in\nThen I took off, I ain't have no other option\nI was too gone, now a nigga just pop shit\nI was in Japan, buyin' drip and blowin' yen\n\nSafe deposit boxes on fleek\nAnd my bank account, I don't touch it, I'ma get it out the street\nGot your vibe all on my drip, she say you cheap\nAnd she know I'm havin' money, buy her titties, ass, and teeth\nCatchin' three flights every day, the only time I get some sleep\nKept it real and they be cappin', really you can't compete\nI spend it all on bullets, niggas don't wanna beef\nGot a D-boy swag, pull up SRT\nI ain't playin' with nobody, nobody gon' play with me\nGot a driver for my car, he take me from A to Z\nGot some homies on the yard I probably'll never see\nIf the money was the issue I promise they'd be free\nThey was sleepin' on me bad, they fucked around, woke up a beast\nSwitch it up, I went romantic, took my shawty out to Greece\nEvery city that I go to, gotta link up with the street\nI'm too humble for 'em, guess that's why they thinkin' I was sweet\nSkinny Mike Amiris like I skate\nWe just fuck around, we don't date\nI went straight up there to Mars, so they hate\nAnd I got a lot of cars, they all up to date\nI was at the bottom, literally I was boxed in\nThen I took off, I ain't have no other option\nI was too gone, now a nigga just pop shit\nI was in Japan, buyin' drip and blowin' yen"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsThrowing Shade Lyrics\nCook that shit up, Quay\n\nI\u2019m getting paid\nCartier glasses they sit on my face\nI ain\u2019t throwin' shade\nI\u2019m getting money, I ain\u2019t in the way\nI stay out the way\nFree all my dogs till they get out the cage\nI\u2019m having my way\nRunning through hundreds and millions a day\nThey know not to play\nYeah I\u2019m the one you can see on my face\nA mil in my safe\nEverywhere I go I\u2019m keepin' a K\nI\u2019m getting paid\nCartier glasses they sit on my face\nI ain\u2019t throwin' shade\nI\u2019m getting money, I ain\u2019t in the way\n\nWe just been balling like Odell\nI got your hoe on my coattail\nShe in her feeling but oh well\nWe got em packs from wholesale\nRunning through thots in the hotel\nGive 'em couple of hundreds for toe nails\nOnly time I'm in crowed, they both tell\nThey can say it was vacuum sealed with no smell\nI was sitting in jail with no bail\nI was sitting in prison getting no mail\nMy nigga switching up on me I don\u2019t care\nThey got jack shit on him he won't tell\nZO6 Vette, ridin' the fast lane, hope I don't wreck\nI'm on that red\nPourin it up with most disrespect\nForgiato on my cars now\nI been fuckin 'round with the stars now\n5 stars for my lineup\nGive these niggas a chance but they time us\nSwitch the hustle, I did get the grind up\nIn the spot hundred dollars the lineup\nI'm the big homie niggas can line us\nStickin dick in this bitch cause she fine as fuck\nYou might also like\nI\u2019m getting paid\nCartier glasses they sit on my face\nI ain\u2019t throwin' shade\nI\u2019m getting money, I ain\u2019t in the way\nI stay out the way\nFree all my dogs till they get out the cage\nI\u2019m having my way\nRunning through hundreds and millions a day\nThey know not to play\nYeah I\u2019m the one you can see on my face\nA mil in my safe\nEverywhere I go I\u2019m keepin' a K\nI\u2019m getting paid\nCartier glasses they sit on my face\nI ain\u2019t throwin' shade\nI\u2019m getting money, I ain\u2019t in the way\n\nI can't stop the money keep calling\nVVS' on my collar\n'Caught a body trying to dead dock ya\nThe way she suck she a head doctor\nDiggin in I got her legs lockin\nSuper trendy got Chanel stockings\nI ain't never had to fantasize it\nYSL we come and change the climate\nRun with twenty thousand one out of Onyx\nSwear the ring, the chain, watch, Avianne\nI got shooters in the trunk right behind me\nI got spots like a cheetah won't find me\nGunna Gunna fell in love with these diamonds\nPressure god only rocking the finest\nI done told you the crew is almighty\nSeveral time I just gotta remind you\nIf you my dog I gotta ride with you\nI got you dog on whatever the issue\nFree my dogs out of prison I miss you\nFuck the laws and whoever against you\nKnow the plug I don't go through the middle\nShowing love it could all be so simple\nI'm a giant remember I used to be little\nGetting paid, I don't need no credentials\nI\u2019m getting paid\nCartier glasses they sit on my face\nI ain\u2019t throwin' shade\nI\u2019m getting money, I ain\u2019t in the way\nI stay out the way\nFree all my dogs till they get out the cage\nI\u2019m having my way\nRunning through hundreds and millions a day\nThey know not to play\nYeah I\u2019m the one you can see on my face\nA mil in my safe\nEverywhere I go I\u2019m keepin' a K\nI\u2019m getting paid\nCartier glasses they sit on my face\nI ain\u2019t throwin' shade\nI\u2019m getting money, I ain\u2019t in the way"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsFit In Lyrics\nEarl on the beat\n\nI'm only getting in where I fit in\nThis is a two-seater you cannot sit in\nI got a dub in the rear end\nI got caught when I fucked her friend\nSay I wouldn't do it and did it again\nI got some dogs who want me to win\nWent to the lot and bought a new Benz\nI hit the gas I'm gone with the wind\nI'm only getting in where I fit in\nThis is a two-seater you cannot sit in\nI got a dub in the rear end\nI got caught when I fucked her friend\nSay I wouldn't do it and did it again\nI got some dogs who want me to win\nWent to the lot and bought a new Benz\nI hit the gas I'm gone with the wind\n\nI had a carbon I was fifteen\nWe tryna steal and rob everything\nI can't even talk about what I seen\nI'm never telling the laws a thing\nMade it out alive, can't even lie that shit was awesome nigga\nShootouts I ain't had no bullets I had to call some niggas\nLost lil Juan in the middle of the summer, that shit was awful nigga\nAs soon as we found out some witness who tell us who did it, we gon' off them nigga\nHad to cut off a couple niggas I thought was with me, tried to cross a nigga\nThese niggas think they can just come and kick shit in my city, it's gon' cost them niggas\nJumped in the game and went got me some millions, no cap\nI made a wave for us\nThem bitches weren't fucking with me when I didn't have no money, now they can't wait to fuck\nEvery one of my lil buddies mama know we thuggin', that's why they pray for us\nI was in the back of the Bach like Rosa Parks\nMe and my dogs on Tec, a four or more\nGrind every day like it ain't no tomorrow\nI was just broke, ain't going back\nI'ma run mines up to the max\nI want the cheese, ain't fuckin' with rats\nI wanna fuck her I give her a rack\nIf she don't give me head ain't texting her back\nI'm a dog I go deep in the cat\nRemember one time I ain't have jack\nI had a hunnid I bought me a pack\nI took the pack and went got me a bag\nIt started rolling and coming in fast\nI had the old heads hanging back\nNow I'm rich now and that's why they mad\nYou might also like\nI'm only getting in where I fit in\nThis is a two-seater you cannot sit in\nI got a dub in the rear end\nI got caught when I fucked her friend\nSay I wouldn't do it and did it again\nI got some dogs who want me to win\nWent to the lot and bought a new Benz\nI hit the gas I'm gone with the wind\nI'm only getting in where I fit in\nThis is a two-seater you cannot sit in\nI got a dub in the rear end\nI got caught when I fucked her friend\nSay I wouldn't do it and did it again\nI got some dogs who want me to win\nWent to the lot and bought a new Benz\nI hit the gas I'm gone with the wind\n\nPutting on for the hood like I'm White Boy Marco or something\nSuper fast car, super bad broad, everybody know a nigga getting money\nCouple homies switched up on me when I blowed up now I look at them funny\nI put the four on my back with no shirt on\nI let the homies get bags for the low low\nWe sending bricks out the spot this the o-zone\nI'm the man, rest in peace Shawty Lo\nI take the whole gang on the road\nLong way from in front of the store\nThey don't wanna fly they wanna hit the road\nThey wanna take pistols to all of my shows\nWe thuggin' in public wherever we go\nI did some shit that don't nobody know\nI'm only getting in where I fit in\nThis is a two-seater you cannot sit in\nI got a dub in the rear end\nI got caught when I fucked her friend\nSay I wouldn't do it and did it again\nI got some dogs who want me to win\nWent to the lot and bought a new Benz\nI hit the gas I'm gone with the wind\nI'm only getting in where I fit in\nThis is a two-seater you cannot sit in\nI got a dub in the rear end\nI got caught when I fucked her friend\nSay I wouldn't do it and did it again\nI got some dogs who want me to win\nWent to the lot and bought a new Benz\nI hit the gas I'm gone with the wind"}
{"text":"20 ContributorsMinute Lyrics\nYou dig?\nYou know what I'm sayin', I'm on that 4PF shit\nYou know what I'm sayin', I'm on that flooded Patek shit\nI'm on that iced out Rollie shit, you dig?\n\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nI'm a big dawg, a lieutenant\nBrand new foreign, I ain't rented it\nAll the cars came tinted\nAll the cars came tinted\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nI'm a big dawg, a lieutenant\nBrand new foreign, I ain't rented it\nAll the cars came tinted\nAll the cars came tinted\n\nHellcat, no scatpack, got a demon too\nBeamer truck with the frog eyes, nigga who is you?\nI'm gettin' money like rap dudes\nI ain't even sold a record fool\nAll this money on me and it's blue\nNeighborhood 6-0 the crew\nIf I don't do shit I'ma get me a check and I swear I'ma die 'bout these riches\nThese bankrolls too big for these britches\nI heard that these niggas be snitches\nI can't fuck with none of these new bitches\nThey can't wait to tell a nigga's business\nI'ma stay on they ass 'til I'm finished\nRun it up, it only took a minute\nFake daps and the fake hugs, most of these niggas be some haters\nSalt don't kill players, these bitches still need favors\nI done ran this shit way up\nI can hear 'em screamin', \"Wait up\"\nDrippin' on 'em, I got flavor\nLil nigga get your weight up\nYou might also like\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nI'm a big dawg, a lieutenant\nBrand new foreign, I ain't rented it\nAll the cars came tinted\nAll the cars came tinted\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nI'm a big dawg, a lieutenant\nBrand new foreign, I ain't rented it\nAll the cars came tinted\nAll the cars came tinted\n\nPercocets got me traumatized\nNigga try me it's gon' be a homicide\nThey gon' run and hide when it's gunfire\nNigga I ain't lettin' shit slide\nThey gon' patrol with me, bitch I'm a G\nI'ma make 'em fear it, respect it, or check it\nI'm one of the real ones, tunnel vision on the way to the millions\nKeep me a check, flooded Patek\nI fuck with lil shawty, I bought her a Rollie\nPussy niggas tellin' lies, they don't know me\nThe same niggas talkin' down probably owe me\nYou a big dawg and I'm a big dawg but they know their motherfuckin' difference\nPushin' pounds, LA Fitness\nI got twenty killers with me\nI'ma go all the way this year, put it on my son\nHe gon' be a don, I'ma pop it 'til I'm done\nStart throwin' dubs if I run out of ones\nThese niggas know how we come\nShort Dracos with the big old drum\nRun through it fast, I'ma break my thumbs, yeah\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nI'm a big dawg, a lieutenant\nBrand new foreign, I ain't rented it\nAll the cars came tinted\nAll the cars came tinted\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nKeep me a check, I ain't got no regrets, if I said it I motherfuckin' meant it\nI'm a big dawg, a lieutenant\nBrand new foreign, I ain't rented it\nAll the cars came tinted\nAll the cars came tinted\n\nI'ma pop my shit, ain't gon' bite my tongue, I'ma rock my shoes\nI'ma keep my gun, I'ma rock my jewels, I'ma keep my gun"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsSame Thing Lyrics\n(Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up)\n\nI been the type of guy she like since middle\u2005school\nNever\u2005thought that I'd\u2005get famous, always know that I'd\u2005be cool\nCould've been fucked on shawty, I just didn't wanna be rude\nEliantte diamonds, I want the finest for your jewels\nAnd my hitter 'dem be slidin', don't put cameras on my crew\nI ain't doin' too bad, I'm somebody, you can Google me\nI ain't never worried 'bout what they say that they gon' to do me\nI just put in overtime, I'm doin' numbers like it's two of me\nThat was back then, times change, this a newer me\nMoney conversations at the table, I speak fluently\nStay away from bad vibes, I can't see no nigga doing me\nStill give a couple thousand, even though she would of did it free\nThey don't treat me like no rapper 'cause my vibe like I'm in the streets\nI'm one of the top five, it ain't too many guys as real as me\nI barely get sleep, I'm tryna make sure everybody eats\nTook a trip to overseas, I'm buyin' drip in other currencies\nI'm on fire right now, and it ain't somethin' that's just currently\nAnd a bitch told a lie if she told you she was curvin' me\nAnd we all big dawgs, ain't gon' let my people work for me\n911, we got a problem, it's an emergency, yeah\n\nI heard that crime pays (Uh)\nThey think we thugs 'cause we got ice, I'm going plain jane\nNo matter what, at least a quarter for my main thing\nShowed up on Forbes, I can't complain, I'm tryna maintain\nHop off a plane, pick up a check, then do the same thing\nI heard that crime pays\nThey think we thugs 'cause we got ice, I'm going plain jane\nNo matter what, at least a quarter for my main thing\nShowed up on Forbes, I can't complain, I'm tryna maintain\nHop off a plane, pick up a check, then do the same thing\nYou might also like\nLately, I been diggin' your vibe\nI can tell by the look in your eyes\nThat you need to get some shit off your mind\nI give you my time, give you jets in the sky\nHave you runnin' 'round in laps for me\nI perform, when I'm done, you should clap for me\nYou got problems on your head, you can chat with me\nHave you runnin' around the globe chasing racks with me\nM's in plastic, sometimes I'm sarcastic\nI just like to hear laughter, tryna ease all this pain\nTook off fast, I know they hate how I passed 'em\nDon't gotta be in the grave, they throwin' dirt on your name, yeah\n\nI heard that crime pays, uh\nThey think we thugs 'cause we got ice, I'm going plain jane\nNo matter what, at least a quarter for my main thing\nShowed up on Forbes, I can't complain, I'm tryna maintain\nHop off a plane, pick up a check, then do the same thing\nI heard that crime pays\nThey think we thugs 'cause we got ice, I'm going plain jane\nNo matter what, at least a quarter for my main thing\nShowed up on Forbes, I can't complain, I'm tryna maintain\nHop off a plane, pick up a check, then do the same thing"}
{"text":"I love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nIf findin' somebody real is your fuckin' problem (Yeah)\nBring your girls to the crib, maybe we can solve it, ayy\nHold up, bitches, simmer down (Uh)\nTakin' hella long, bitch, give it to me now (Uh)\nMake that thing pop like a semi or a nine\nOoh, baby like it raw with the shimmy shimmy ya, huh?\nA$AP (Yeah), get like me (Uh)\nNever met a motherfucker fresh like me (Yeah)\nAll these motherfuckers wanna dress like me (Uh)\nBut the chrome to your dome make you sweat like Keith\n\u2018Cause I'm the nigga, the nigga, nigga, like how you figure? (Yeah)\nGettin' figures and fuckin' bitches, she rollin' Swishers\nBrought her bitches, I brought my niggas (Uh)\nThey gettin' bent up off the liquor (Uh)\nShe love my licorice, I let her lick it (Alright)\nThey say money make a nigga act niggerish (Uh)\nBut least a nigga, nigga rich\nI be fuckin' broads like I be fuckin' bored\nTurn a dyke bitch out, have her fuckin' boys, beast (Hahahahaha)\nYou might also like\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nIf findin' somebody real is your fuckin' problem\nBring your girls to the crib, maybe we can solve it, ayy\n\nOoh, I know you love it when this beat is on\nMake you think about all of the niggas you been leadin' on\nMake me think about all of the rappers I've been feedin' on\nGot a feelin' that's the same dudes that we speakin' on, oh word?\nAin't heard my album? Who you sleepin' on?\nYou should print the lyrics out and have a fuckin' read-along\nAin't a fuckin' sing-along 'less you brought the weed along\nThen ju\u2014 okay, I got it\nThen just drop down and get your eagle on\nOr we can stare up at the stars and put the Beatles on\nAll that shit you talkin' 'bout is not up for discussion\nI will pay to make it bigger, I don't pay for no reduction\nIf it's comin' from a nigga I don't know, then I don't trust it\nIf you comin' for my head, then motherfucker, get to bustin'\nYes, Lord, I don't really say this often\nBut this long-dick nigga ain't for the long talkin', I'm beast\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nIf findin' somebody real is your fuckin' problem\nBring your girls to the crib, maybe we can solve it\nUh, yeah, ho, this the finale\nMy pep talk turn into a pep rally\nSay she from the hood, but she live inside in the valley now\nVacayed in Atlanta, then she goin' back to Cali (Mm)\nGot your girl on my line, world on my line\nThe irony, I fuck 'em at the same damn time\nShe eyein' me like a nigga don't exist\nGirl, I know you want this dick\nGirl, I'm Kendrick Lamar (Mm)\nA.K.A. Benz is to me just a car (Mm)\nThat mean your friends-es need be up to par\nSee, my standards are pampered by threesomes tomorrow (Mm)\nKill 'em all, dead bodies in the hallway\nDon't get involved, listen what the crystal ball say\nHalle Berry, hallelujah\nHoller back, I'll do ya, beast\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nI love bad bitches, that's my fuckin' problem (Problem)\nAnd yeah, I like to fuck, I got a fuckin' problem (Problem)\nIf findin' somebody real is your fuckin' problem\nBring your girls to the crib, maybe we can solve it, ayy"}
{"text":"Uh, feelin' like a vigilante or a missionary\nTell my A$AP killers, get they pistols ready\nSend 'em to the cemetery with obituaries\nDon't be scared, nigga, is you ready?\nI've been thinkin' 'bout all the O's in my bank account (What?)\nX the hoes in my bed is 'round the same amount (What?)\nEver since this new star fame came about\nOr ever since me and Drizzy started hangin' out, huh\nYoung boy, let his gun bang, let his nuts hang\nTransition to a Lamborghini from a Mustang\nDrugs slang in the drug game with the hustling\n(I know one thing) Anything is better than that 1 Train\nBag made of Goyard, cheffin' like I'm Boyar\u2014\nDee, probably sellin' D in your local courtyard\nBraids like I'm O-Dog, my la familia go hard\nDown to my inlaws, they outlaws with no laws\nWe outlawed, then I bogart, any pros that got 'proached at\nWith a toe-tag, get broke off in the projects with a skateboard\nI roll past and I blaze y'all like, \"Doo, doo,\" I hate y'all\nWhen the beef cooked, I ate y'all like, \"Mmm, mmm!\"\nLet's play ball in a ballpark with all sharks and a blindfold\nI rhyme cold, my K hot, your 9 cold, that bark like K9s on\nThat banana clip, straight from the rip\nI'll make that shirt say R.I.P., I'm on some shit\nIf I'm not the hottest then Hell must have froze over\nYou thought it was safe then forgot what the code was\nI carry traits of a traumatized soldier\nDon't look in my face, I might snap, I might choke ya\nSpine right out of place, give me dap like you 'posed to\nDarts at your posters, dark nights like this\nI metamorph like I'm 'posed to, I might slice my wrist\nOr pretend like a vulture and drop off this cliff\nYou might also like\nBarely even conscious, talkin' to my conscience\nGettin' deeper in these flows like conches\nI'm on my convict, don't drop bars, I drop prisons\nDon't sell rocks, seen the spectrum through the prisms\nSomehow bypassed the bias and the -isms\nThe violence and the killin', so given\nThey seen my pigment and thought that was the ign'ance\nUnfortunately, I am not that type of niglet\nBut pass the pot, let me skillet\nJust got back to the block from a 6 o'clock with Jigga\nAnd I'm thinkin' 'bout signin' to the Roc\nBut my niggas on the block still assigned to the rocks\nAnd I swear it hurt me soul\nI try to prevail but when I preach I only hurt their sales\nLike you're only gon' end up either dead or in jail\nBut you my nigga, wish you the best for real\n\nWhen you mention my name amongst other white rappers\nOr for that matter any fuckin' rapper, fuck it\nPainter, skater, musician, trailer park, dirt-ditch-diggin'\nBurger-flippin', eat, sleep, shittin' human bein', you would be in\nTrouble to body-double or couple me to these others\n'Cause comparatively speakin', my reach is beyond the bubble\nThat they put me in, my vision's beyond the Hubble's\nI huddle with Nubians, new beginnin' again\nYou in school at 10, late, Radioactive's goin' gold\nAnd so? Great! Do I give a flying duck\nIf I'm applyin' love to my rhymin' plus alignin' us?\nAlabama's climbin' up\u2014wait! No, I don't give a\nFlying duck nothin' but a buckshot; ch-pow!\nMotherfuck your life, pussy blood-clot\nAin't never been no rapper this cold since 2Pac was froze\nAnd thawed out for a spot date at a Coachella show\u2014Yelawolf\nWeed a different color like a hoodrat bra and panties\nAnd my flow be overhead like pots and pans in pantries\nAntsy 'cause I'm high like Michael Jackson, penny loafers\nMoonwalkin' on the sun, barefoot, with shades on\nBitch pussy smell like a penguin\nWouldn't hit that shit with my worst enemy's penis\nBitch, when I say this, I mean this\nHo, I'm the meanest\nDick so big, it's like from Earth to Venus\nThat molly got me nauseous, aw, shit, no off switch\nLawless, obnoxious, on that \"suck my cock\" shit\nThat is my synopsis, ostrich's posh shit\nHoes on some goth shit, stop it! You not this!\nNovice, regardless, heartless and awkward\nCryin' tears of vodka, prima donna at the concert\nAdonis smokin' chronic, 'bout to vomit gin and tonic\nJust bein' honest, tell me, isn't that ironic?\nSwiftly, I shift the Bimmer 860\nA heavy smoker, so you know I brought the Blake with me\nThe moon\u2019s reflection off the lake hit me\nYou should have stayed with me\nNow many Asian bitches lay with me\nThe face is silky like a tablecloth\nMy shorty gallop in the mornin' on the beach like a Chilean horse\nRed roses dropped from boxes very often\nConfetti torchin', drinkin' Henny like I'm Kenny Lofton\nOutstandin', I fixed the game between Georgia Southern and Gramblin'\nYou see us scramblin', sellin' Susan Sarandon\nThe cloud of smoke like the phantom\nDamn, this shit tastes like fantastic, uh\nYou see me comin' through in each state\nJust so the lord could put the fork inside the cheesecake\nCuffed to my wrist, I've got the briefcase\nThe gavel slam, I'm a free man, try not to eat ham\nBig K.R.I.T., shawty\nSpit like my last breath: casket rap, six deep\nEyes closed, the black is back, out come the 'lac with flats\nAfter that, bottles I can't pronounce, like, \u201cHow you ask for that?\u201d\nWhy you ask for crack and all you had was scratch?\nAll I had was rap, when all they had was wack\nAll I wanted was love and all they had was dap\nFuck them haters and fuck them hoes, a championship win is\nThe aftermath, ask LeBron, open palm, slap a bitch\nWalk the plank or break a bank, I've been in the business of sinkin' ships\nChokin' niggas out with the anchors that they anchor with\nResuscitations cost the label, I'm taxin' if you want a hit\nClear, fuck your career, bitch, I was born here\nBeen a killer, '86er nigga, that's my born year\nGet the fuck from 'round here, that's just my country ways\nSuckin' on your momma's titty, bitchin' while I was choppin' blade\nGrippin' grain, fuckin' hoes, candy paint like Everglades\nMiss me with that rapper chatter, take that shit up with my bass\nI put that on my soul, how could you ever doubt me?\nMost rappers hopin' the world end so they won't have to drop another album\nB.B. King saw the king in me, so why can't you?\nIn order to come up close, you'll have to dig up Cash and Elvis, too\n(That wasn't no sample, nigga!)\nMuddy water flow, Dixie rebel past\nFuck your Louis flag, poppin' benji tags on your wifey's ass (on your wifey's ass)\nThat's out of line, but in livin' color?\nI'm more like Miya Bailey on you rap motherfuckers: a true artist"}
{"text":"Get it\nText a message, I don't know the number\nFlexin' on these niggas, every bone and muscle\nSteady takin' shots, but never hurtin' numbers\nEven then, y'all don't worry nothin'\nAnd I'd like to give a shout out to my niggas with a game plan\nAnd shout outs all my niggas with escape plans\nUh, twenty bands, rain dance\nWe could either rain check or we can make plans\nPockets loaded, rocket loaded, okay, let's rock and roll this\nTime to go, Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels\nLocked and loaded, diamonds glowin', chart-climbing on 'em\nYou'd think I'm jumpin' out the window how I got 'em open\nLine around the corner, line 'em up the block and over\nSometimes I even stop the smokin' when it's time to focus\nMy shades, Dior, my pants, velour\nCreate, explore, expand, conquer\n\nI came, I saw, I came, I saw\nI praise the Lord, then break the law\nI take what's mine, then take some more\nIt rains, it pours, it rains, it pours\nI came, I saw, I came, I saw\nI praise the Lord, then break the law\nI take what's mine, then take some more\nIt rains, it pours, it rains, it pours\nYou might also like\nYeah, I sold the pack, the loose, the hard (Yeah)\nI listened to X, I peeped the bars (Yeah)\nThe snakes, the rats, the cats, the dogs\nThe game's a trap, protect your heart (Yeah)\nI waited in line, return, refine\nThe new design, it's time to shine\nTo shine, to shine, to shine, to shine\nI hustle, I flex, the world is mine\nSo please believe, allow the greaze\nThese niggas disease, don't speak, we squeeze\nI make the devil go weak the knees\nYou hate, you're lame, your loss\n\nI came, I saw, I came, I saw\nI praise the Lord, then break the law\nI take what's mine, then take some more\nIt rains, it pours, it rains, it pours\nI came, I saw, I came, I saw\nI praise the Lord, then break the law\nI take what's mine, then take some more\nIt rains, it pours, it rains, it pours\n\nUh, she came, I came, now what's my name?\nMy chain, my pants, my pants with the chain\nThey know it's me, the hat and the shades\nThey heard my voice and they ran to the stage\nMy Vans, my braids, my mans, my babes\nMy girls, my ex, my hoes that I left\nThe way I stepped out the car, that's a flex\nGive thanks, get fresh, praise the Lord then finesse, bless\nI came, I saw, I came, I saw\nI praise the Lord, then break the law\nI take what's mine, then take some more\nIt rains, it pours, it rains, it pours\nI came, I saw, I came, I saw\nI praise the Lord, then break the law\nI take what's mine, then take some more\nIt rains, it pours, it rains, it pours"}
{"text":"Aha, aha\nI said it must be 'cause a nigga got dough\nExtraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold\nHoes at my shows they be strippin' off they clothes\nAnd them college girls write a nigga name on they toes\nNiggas talk shit 'til they get lockjaw\nChrome to ya dome 'til ya get glockjaw\nParty like a cowboy or a rockstar\nEverybody play the tough guy 'til shit pop off\n\nLet's take it to the basics, you in the midst of greatness\nMy Martin was a Maison, rocked Margielas with no laces\nCristal go by the cases, wait hold up that was racist\nI would prefer the Aces, ain't no different when you taste it\nA 40 ounce to chase it, that's just a understatement\nI'm early to the party, but my 'Rari is the latest\nSomehow it seems girls in they late teens\nRemind me your favorite jeans cause they naked cause you famous\nLife's a mothafucka, ain't it? These other rappers ain't us\nSo tell me what your name is, I'ma tell it to my stainless\nYou aim it 'fore you bang it let that banger leave you brainless\nIt's just me, myself, and I and mothafuckas that I came with\nMiscellaneous niggas wanna hate on me\nUntil I tell 'em to they face they ain't no G\nLow key, niggas mad cause I'm smooth puffin' Zig Zags\nTell 'em quit the riff raff bitchin' with your bitch ass\nYou might also like\nI said it must be 'cause a nigga got dough\nExtraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold\nHoes at my shows they be strippin' off they clothes\nAnd them college girls write a nigga name on they toes\nNiggas talk shit 'til they get lockjaw\nChrome to ya dome 'til ya get glockjaw\nParty like a cowboy or a rockstar\nEverybody play the tough guy 'til shit pop off\n\nYes, I'm the shit, tell me do it stink?\nIt feel good wakin' up to money in the bank\nThree model bitches, cocaine on the sink\nAnd I'm so 'bout it 'bout it, I might roll up in a tank\nCause my chain came from Cuba, got a lock up on the link\nAnd them red bottom loafers just to compliment the mink\nEyes chink, rollin' up that dank, blowin' on that stank\nWhat you mean? Tell me what you drink, I'm on that kissin' pink\nYou could call me Billy Gates, got a crib in every state\nMan on the moon, got a condo out in space\nOpen up your legs, tell me how it taste\nAnd them niggas talkin' shit so tell 'em, \u201cTell it to my face\u201d\nTell that bitch, hop up on my dick, rolled up on her quick\nIn a six, told her suck a dick, motorboat her tits\nI'm the shit, niggas mad cause I'm smooth puffin' Zig-Zags\nTell 'em quit the riff raff bitchin' with your bitch ass\nI said it must be 'cause a nigga got dough\nExtraordinary swag and a mouth full of gold\nHoes at my shows they be strippin' off they clothes\nAnd them college girls write a nigga name on they toes\nNiggas talk shit 'til they get lockjaw\nChrome to ya dome 'til ya get glockjaw\nParty like a cowboy or a rockstar\nEverybody play the tough guy 'til shit pop off\n\nOh, yeah, oh, right\nOh, yeah, yeah, yeah\nOh, yeah, oh, yeah\nOh, yeah\nEverybody play the tough guy 'til shit pop off (Right, right)"}
{"text":"\nI be that pretty mothafucka, Harlem's what I'm reppin'\nTell my niggas quit the bitchin', we gon' make it in a second\nNever disrespected plus I'm well connected\nWith this coke that I imported, just important as your President\nSwagger so impressive and I don't need a necklace\nBut these bitches get impressed when you pull up in that 7\nThem 6's, them Benzes, I gets get the freshest\nRaf Simons, Rick Owens usually what I'm dressed in\nBlowing blunts rolling doobies up, smoking sections\nGroupies rush hold they boobies up, in my direction\nQuit with all the fronting, you ain't 'round my clique for nothing\n'Cause our presence is a present, just to kick it is a blessing\n\nThis is the way it goes, this is the way we roll\n'Cause every day we on our pesos (Pesos)\nThis is the way it goes, this is the way we roll\n'Cause every day we on our pesos (Pesos)\n(Gun cock, gunshot, gun a likkle bwoy)\n(Gun cock, gunshot, gun a likkle bwoy)\n(Gun cock, gunshot, gun a likkle bwoy)\n'Cause every day we on our pesos\nYou might also like\nYo, yo, yo, your bitch just said I'm hot, man, I told her I agree\nShe gon' really think I'm hot if I told her my degrees\nPull up in that hard-top, showing off my keys\nGraduate school of hard-knocks, I can show you my degrees\nCouple A, B, C's, bad bitch, double D's\nPopping E, I don't give a F, told you I'm a G\nA.S.A.P., Stevie got it on his sleeve\nBut I got it on my chest, my nigga, this is what I breathe\nInhale, exhale, cocaine, X pills\nImport, export, Harlem catching rec still\nSo mami, show me how that neck feel (Feel)\nLater show me how the rest feel, for now just chill\n\nThis is the way it goes, this is the way we roll\n'Cause every day we on our pesos\nThis is the way it goes, this is the way we roll\n'Cause every day we on our pesos\n(Gun cock, gunshot, gun a likkle bwoy)\n(Gun cock, gunshot, gun a likkle bwoy)\n(Gun cock, gunshot, gun a likkle bwoy)\n'Cause every day we on our pesos\n'Cause every day we on our pesos\n'Cause every day we on our pesos"}
{"text":"Every day I spend my time\nDrinkin' wine, feelin' fine\nWaitin' here to find the sign\nThat I can understand, yes, I am\nSo every day I spend my time\nDrinkin' wine, feelin' fine\nWaiting here to find the sign\nThat I should take it slow\nHere I go, here I go, here I go\n\nUh, off again, there he go, to another dimension, my mind\nBody, soul imprisoned, my eye probably goin' ballistic, but, listen\nI'm missin' a couple of screws, they ain't never do drillin' true\nYou been sippin' away at the truth, a double shot of wisdom'll do\nDo, do, rollin' through, hittin' switches\nRolling ditches, blowin' kisses, to the bitches, holdin' biscuits (Yeah)\nWhat's the business? Beat the system\nCo-defendants, blow the sentence, go to prison\nGo to church and pray the father, Lord, forgive us (Amen)\nAnd only God can judge me (Yeah)\nAnd he don't like no ugly\nI look so fuckin' good, most dykes'll fuck me, buddy\nYeah, I'm a piece of shit (Uh-huh), I know I plead the fifth\nI tell her, \"Holler if ya need some dick\"\nThe devotion is gettin' hopeless, but, hold it, I'm gettin' close\nAs my soul is, I'm seein' ghosts, a solo is now a poet\nHypnosis overdose on potions, adjustin' to the motions\nAnd gettin' out all my emotions\nYou might also like\nEvery day I spend my time\nDrinkin' wine, feelin' fine\nWaitin' here to find the sign\nThat I can understand, yes, I am\nSo every day I spend my time\nDrinkin' wine, feelin' fine (Yeah)\nWaiting here to find the sign\nThat I should take it slow (Uh)\nHere I go, here I go, here I go\nUh, this type of shit\nMake a nigga wanna flip September through August (Woo, woo, woo, woo)\nThis type of shit got 'em bustin' out the clip\nIn the middle of the office (Rrah, woo, woo, woo, woo)\nAnd a message to the bosses (Woo)\nThe Misfits' new outfit is on the bloglist\nGorgeous hoes keep on the sayin' that they caused it\n'Cause the Porsches get 'em nauseous (Woo)\nPlus, I ain't even mad yet (Woo), niggas caught me in a good mood (Yeah)\nPaparazzi wanna nag a nigga chillin' at the bag check (Yeah, woo)\nHope they show me in my good shoes (Yeah)\nWhen papa got the brand new bag (Yeah)\nFlacko got the brand new Raf, that's good news (Woo)\n\"Hood dudes usually don't look like you\"\nHow it feel to get a deal and come back\nAnd the whole hood look like you?\nScreamin', \"Pimp Squad, hold it down\"\nCan't drive, bitch, I'm legally blind, bitch\nIf I live or die, it's up to me to decide\nShit, niggas coppin' guns like they legal to buy\nThe only key to survive and get a piece of the pie\nIs to agree with a lot or just believe a fa\u00e7ade, bitch\nAnd I'll be fine just-a drinkin' my wine, bitch\nI-I-I-I got the love birds chirpin' at the window (Woo, woo)\nBut I don't need love no more (Woo)\nI'll be fine, sippin' wine\nTakin' time slow (Woo)\nI got the love birds chirpin' at the window (Woo)\nBut I don't need love no more (Woo, woo)\nI'll be fine, sippin' wine\n\nSo every day I spend my time (Yeah)\nDrinkin' wine, feelin' fine\nWaiting here to find the sign\nThat I can understand, yes, I am (Uh)\nEvery day I spend my time (Yeah)\nDrinkin' wine, feelin' fine (Yeah)\nWaitin' here to find the sign\nI don't care if I ever know (Uh)\nHere I go, here I go, here I go\n\nI got the love birds chirpin' at the window\nBut I don't need love no more, oh, no\nI'll be fine, sippin' wine\nTakin' time slow\nI got the love birds chirpin' at the window\nBut I don't need love no more, oh, no\nI'll be fine, sippin' wine\nTakin' time slow"}
{"text":"Wake up feeling blessed up, pistol on that dresser\nAin't afraid to show it, I'll expose it if I dress up\nRiding in that Testa...rossa, nigga catch up\nSipping on that syrup, till I'm messed up, like yes sir\nSo now I'm getting change, people looking at me strange\nLike nigga switching lanes, never changed, still the same\nWe fuck bitches, get paper, you fuck niggas on papers\nWe walk around with lasers, you prolly own some tasers\nLame niggas disgrace us, they girlfriends want date us\nGot different hoes, I'm pimpin' hoes, you could tell by my paystubs\nMy niggas gettin' right, smokin' weed with dirty Sprite\nI'm going wild for the night, fuck being polite, I'm goin'\n\nFinna wild out for the weekend, me, myself, and I \u2013 my three friends\nNigga feeling froggy, then leap in, A$AP niggas finna sneak in\nMiddle finger to the critics, me and my nigga Skrillex\nYou know we finna kill it, A$AP we the trillest\nYou don't really want that Glock boy\nYou don't really wanna feel them shots boy\nYou a b-boy, I'm a block boy, I'm a D boy, I'm a hot boy\nSix shots got me feelin' like 'Pac, boy, party all night, shit don't stop, boy\nDrunk as fuck, and I'm ready to fight\nWilding for the night, fuck being polite, boy\nYou might also like\nWild for the night, fuck being polite, I'm goin'\nWild for the night, fuck being polite, I'm goin'\nI'm going wild for the night, fuck being polite, I'm goin'\nWild for the night, fuck being polite, I'm goin'\n\nIt's the weekend and I'm creeping with my niggas\nDrunk and disrespectful, callin' women bitches\nI don't mean no harm but won't you and your friends-es\nMeet us in the cut and we can do the business\nGod my witness that I only wanna kick it\nAnd your girl just said they with us\nSo we rolling in them Benzes\nWon't you pour it up and stop the babysitting\nShe got drunk as fuck and swallowed all my kids-es\n\nBack to the Mac, tats on her back\nAss so fat, hit that from the back\nWhen it clap from the back, she clappin' it back\nShe flat on her back and it's back to the trap\nFuck your pack, A$AP where it's at\nFuck nigga act, get clap lay flat\nFuck your dreams, leave a punk nigga dreamin'\nThen you sleep, and you won't come back from the nap\nBenjamin Three-Stack, it\u2019s a fact, she lives in my lap\nOn my Ou-Outkast, daddy fat, bitches on my sack\nAnd you know them smokin' bitches rolling reefer got me open\nWildin' to the morning with my homies, tell 'em where we goin'\nWild for the night, fuck being polite, I'm goin'\nWild for the night, fuck being polite, I'm goin'\nI'm going wild for the night, fuck being polite, I'm goin'\nWild for the night, fuck being polite, I'm goin'"}
{"text":"I know I dream about her all day\nI think about her with her clothes off\nI'm ridin' 'round with my system bumpin' LSD\nI look for ways to say \"I love you\"\nBut I ain't into makin' love songs\nBaby, I'm just rappin' to this LSD\nShe ain't a stranger to the city life\nI introduced her to this hippy life\nWe make love under pretty lights, LSD (Acid)\nI get a feelin' it's a trippy night\nThem other drugs just don't fit me right\nGirl, I really fuckin' want love, sex, dream\nAnother quarter to the face system\nMake no mistakes, it's all, a leap of faith for love\nIt takes a place in, feelin' that you crave doin' love, sex, dreams\n\nIt started in Hollywood\nDreamin' of sharin' love\nMy tongue at a loss for words\nCause my feelings just said it all\nParty just started up\nDreamin' of sharin' worlds\nHeld this feeling for way too long\nSaid, \"I really wanna let it go\"\nYou might also like\nI've been gettin' fly because the gimmick's so dope\nI've been getting high cause I figured Lord told me\nI've been drinking, driving, now we'll never go home\nI gon' stay in doubt because the weather's so cold, oh\n\nFeeling low sometimes when the light shines down\nMakes me high\nCan you feel it?\nCan you feel it?\nFeeling low sometimes when the light shines down\nMakes me high\nCan you feel it?\nCan you feel it?\n\nIt started in Hollywood\nDuh, duh-duh\nDreamin' of sharin' love\nDuh, duh-duh\nMy tongue at a loss for words\nCause my feelings just said it all\n\nI look for ways to say, \"I love you\"\nBut I ain't into makin' love songs\nBaby, I'm just rappin' to this LSD"}
{"text":"Her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\n'Cause she a fashion killer, and I'm a trendy nigga\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\n'Cause she a fashion killer, and I'm a jiggy nigga\nUh, I said\n\nRocking (Uh), rolling (Uh)\nSwagging to the max (Woo)\nMy bitch a fashion killer, she be busy poppin' tags (Alright)\nShe got a lot of Prada (Uh)\nThat Dolce and Gabbana (Uh)\nI can't forget Escada (Uh)\nAnd that Balenciaga (Yeah)\nI'm sippin' purple syrup (Yeah)\nCome be my Aunt Jemima (Right)\nAnd if you is a rider, we'll go shoppin' like ma\u00f1ana (Right)\nHer attitude Rihanna (Uh)\nShe get it from her mama (Yeah)\nShe jiggy like Madonna, but she trippy like Nirvana (Woo)\n'Cause everything designer (Yeah)\nHer jeans is Helmut Lang (Uh)\nShoes is Alexander Wang and her shirt the newest Donna\nKaran (Yeah)\nWearin' all the Cartier frames\nJean Paul Gaultiers 'cause they match with her persona\nYou might also like\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\n'Cause she a fashion killer, and I'm a trendy nigga\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\n'Cause she a fashion killer, and I'm a jiggy nigga\n\nI said I see your Jil Sanders (Uh)\nOliver Peoples (Yeah)\nCostume National, your Ann Demeulemeester (Alright)\nSee Visvim be the sneaker (Uh)\nLanvin or Balmain (Uh)\nGoyard by the trunk (Uh)\nHer Isabel Marant (Alright)\nI love your Linda Farrow, I adore your Dior (Uh)\nYour Damir Doma (Uh)\nVena Cava from the store (Uh)\nI crush down with that top down (Yeah)\nBossy see how I ride 'round (Yeah)\nMami in that Tom Ford\nPapi in that Thom Browne (Uh)\nRick Owens, Raf Simons, boy, she got it by the stock (Uh)\nShe ball until she fall, that means she shop until she drop (Uh)\nAnd Versace, got a lot (Uh)\nBut she may never wear it\nBut she save it so our babies will be flyer than their parents and\u2026\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\n'Cause she a fashion killer, and I'm a trendy nigga\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\n'Cause she a fashion killer, and I'm a jiggy nigga\nI said her pistol go\n\nScoop back tees (Uh)\nBreeze in coupe (Uh)\nSmiling is your treasure, you're so well put together (Yeah, alright)\nBags and links (Uh)\nJeans and shoes (Yeah)\nSpikes and patent leathers, different fabrics mixed together\nBaby, you and me (Uh)\nMe and you (Yeah)\nGo away together, we could get away forever (Yeah)\nAll emotions clashing, thrashing, someone turn the light out\nI met my baby expressed my passion on my fashion night out\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\n'Cause she a fashion killer, and I'm a trendy nigga\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nHer pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\nI said her pistol go\u2026\n(Doot-doot-doot, bang-bang, boom-boom, pop-pop)\n'Cause she a fashion killer, and I'm a jiggy nigga\nI said her pistol go"}
{"text":"I thought I'd probably die in prison, expensive taste in women\nAin't had no pot to piss in, now my kitchen full of dishes\nNose bloody from that sniffin', your heroin addiction\nTrigger finger itching, fuck parental supervision\nThis be that murder business, little Timmy got that semi\nI ain't kidding, hide your kittens, hit your childrens with that Smith and\nA bunch of ignant little niglets, hardheaded, never listen\nPurp-purple sippin', finger twistin', teeth glisten like it's Memphis\nA bunch of hypocritic Christians (Uh)\nThe land of no religion (Uh)\nMy Santa Claus was missing, catch you slippin' then it's Christmas\nMotherfuck a wishlist, my ghetto was ambition\nFor my Benjis and my Bentley\nAnd them bitches now I gets-gets\nOn the road to riches, a diamond ring, designer jeans\nChoking on that biscuit 'til I'm no longer existing\nI wonder if they miss me, as long as I make history\nNow my soul is feeling empty, tell the reaper come and get me\nWho said you can't live forever lied\nOf course, I'm living forever\nI'll forever, I'll live long\nYou can't ever deny my force\nI'm living forever\nI'll forever, I'll live\nYou might also like\nRiding through your city like that motherfucker mine\nOr toting on that semi, rob a motherfucker blind\nLicense plate says wipe me down, car from 1989\nBut a nigga sits so pretty call that motherfucker fine\nLost your motherfucking mind, what's on your mind?\nNiggas talking down\nNever talk to cops\nMake him talk to God when I tote that 9, he ain't talking now\nTell 'em watch your spine, I mean watch your back\nBetter guide your track, better not look back\nNow stay in line, don't step on cracks\nSo you break her back, I'm talking 'bout your mom (Uh)\n'Cause there's killers in my town (Uh)\nMaking hits, sniffing lines (Yeah)\nOut committing crimes (Yeah)\nWait for shit to simmer down (Uh)\nCorrupted little minds (Yeah)\n8 and 9, finna shine (Yeah)\nOn the grind\nDo you dirty with that shimmy shimmy ya (Uh)\nWhere they shoot without a purpose\nServices 'n hearses\nKids who ain't deserve it\nCan't survive a thing, you're worthless\nStrangers make me nervous\nWho's that peekin' in my window with a pistol to my curtains?\nWho said you can't live forever lied\nOf course, I'm living forever\nI'll forever, I'll live long\nYou can't ever deny my force\nI'm living forever\nI'll forever, I'll live\n\nPretty nigga rich, Flacko be the shit\nAnd that bitch know we poppin' so she poppin' on this dick\nNigga, RIP to Pimp, can't forget Little Flip\nAnd I take it out to Memphis so shout out to Triple Six\n\nWho said you can't live forever lied\nOf course, I'm living forever\nI'll forever, I'll live long\nYou can't ever deny my force\nI'm living forever\nI'll forever, I'll live"}
{"text":"Uh (Uh)\nYeah (Lord Pretty Flacko, nigga)\nYeah (Yeah)\nYeah (Yeah)\nWhoo (Whoo)\nYeah (Yeah)\nYeah\n\nWho the jiggy nigga with the gold links?\nGot me reminiscin' 'bout my old day\nThree 6, suck a nigga dick, no foreplay, all day\nBoomin' out the trap through the hallway\nTell me, what you niggas know about it?\nAuntie sayin' turn it down, or she finna call the cops\nWe be plottin' on the opps, she the one who got the drop\nJust a free quick fix of the A, and it's okay\nThey gon' take me back to my old ways\nI was tryna chill, poppin' seals ever since I got a deal\nKick it with my model chick, sip Cris', fuck niggas wanna diss\nNow I gotta let 'em know who's really trill\n\nLord Pretty Flacko Jodye\nDirty fuck niggas, how you been?\nYou been crossin' our minds\nNiggas talk down every now and then\nOn the side, who gave 'em style nine times out of ten?\nIt was Flacko Jodye, Flacko Jodye\nFlacko Jodye, Flacko Jodye\nYou might also like\nI ain't never lookin' for no handouts\nBroke ass niggas never helpin' with they hands out\nFind out where the fuck nigga live then we camp out\nScreamin' fuck the world, never catch me with my pants down\nAlways been a stand-up guy, I'd rather stand out\nRaf Simons, Stan Smith edition with my bands out\nI'm the trillest one to do it since Pimp, nigga hands down\nIf a nigga put his hands on me, that's a man down\nTrick, what? Pimps up, hoes down, whoa now\nSlow down, see they runnin' with my old style\nGrow foul, gold smile, you ho now, thuggin' with my old style\nIt's a shame how they low down\nDirty like Adidas on my sneaker feature, uh\nTrappin' through the speaker, peep the beeper ringer, uh\nTurnin' off phones, just to reach 'em, gotta beep 'em\nI'm a Lord motherfucker, better greet him if you see him\n\nLord Pretty Flacko Jodye\nDirty fuck niggas, how you been?\nYou been crossin' our minds\nNiggas talk down every now and then\nOn the side, who gave 'em style nine times out of ten?\nIt was Flacko Jodye, Flacko Jodye\nFlacko Jodye, Flacko Jodye"}
{"text":"\nFuck niggas gon' multiply\n'Fore the real niggas die, fake niggas gon' multiply\n'Fore the real niggas live, fuck niggas won't multiply\nFuck niggas won't multiply, fuck niggas won't multiply\nIgh, igh-igh-igh, igh-igh, igh-igh, igh\nYeah nigga, it's your boy Juicy J. Man, you gotta watch out for these old backstabbin', broke ass, you know what I'm sayin', jealous hatin' ass niggas out here man, you know what I'm sayin', man these niggas ain't no real niggas man, know what I'm sayin'? Man these niggas be smilin' in your face\nBack in the buildin', sold crack in the livin' room\nNiggas toe-tagged, sold gats for a livin'\nDoo rag, keep a red or blue flag in the denim\nOne you be with be the one to shoot at ya in a minute\nCome to Harlem if you never seen Baghdad\nFirst place I seen a nigga sell crack at\nWhere the hustlers don't sleep, take cat naps\nShorty with the shotty limpin' like he got a bad back, back back\nEven in my will, keep it real, thuggin' in my field\n'Til the day I peel, keep it trill, anything I feel\nYoungins trained to kill, aimin', bangin' steel and slangin' krill\nShe shake it all for Satan just to paint her nails and pay her bills\nI ain't really fuckin' with that Been Trill\nSwear them niggas booty like Tip Drill\nNah I ain't really into throwin' shots\nBut these mothafuckas better give me my props, word to Pac\nWe're the reason that these niggas gettin' throwed\nReason why you niggas wearin' gold\nJail pose in the pictures, prayin' fingers to your nose\nI remember, if Pimp was alive he'd tell these hoes and these niggas\nYou might also like\nEven in my will, keep it trill, to the day I peel\nEven in my will, keep it trill, to the day I peel\nEven in my will, keep it trill, to the day I peel\nEven in my will, keep it trill, to the day I...\nWhen the real niggas die, fake niggas gon' multiply\nWhen the real niggas die, fake niggas gon' multiply\nWhen all the real niggas die, fake niggas gon' multiply\nBut if the real niggas live, fuck niggas won't multiply\n\nI'm the original Balmain badass, nigga\nI'm the original Margiela madman, in the words of A$AP Yams\nSmack the shit out a nigga in these skinny pants, feel me?\nDon't get it fucked up, nigga, we been jiggy, been pretty\nStill tell a bitch suck my dick, swag swag nigga\n\nFuck with a nigga like me, RIP my nigga Pimp C\nHBA shit is weak, you can keep that\nShit, I might fuck around and bring the Jeep back\nNo doors on it, flexin' with the seat back\nB-Boy with the G pack, might fuck around and bring the mink back\nWord to Big Boi and 3 Stacks, nigga\nIf you deaf bring the beat back, nigga\nFuck with a nigga like me, RIP my nigga Pimp C\nHBA shit is weak, you can keep that\nI'm a trendsetter, you ain't even peep that\nWhere the hoes, where the weed, where the cheese at?\nFuck the FCC, tell 'em bleep that\n(We ain't no fashion killas nigga, we fashionable killas\nY'all got Flacko fucked up)\n\nI'm the motherfuckin' Lord of this fashion shit\nDon't I deserve just to brag a bit?\nSet the blueprint, fuck your two cents\nNumber 1 stunner, ask Tumblr if I'm accurate\nMy motherfuckin' swag is immaculate\nPlus I got enough style just to mack your bitch\nI think back to when pockets packin' lint\nIt's like a nigga got rich on accident\nNow back to Pimp, bitches lie, killers never lie\nTriggers on the side by side, bet I'm down to ride\nProsper said let's ride to the sky, call it catastrophic\nWe don't ever die, we just multiply, bitch\n\nFake ass niggas, you know what I'm sayin'? These niggas be out here talkin' 'bout they a street nigga and shit, man niggas be gettin' extorted like a mothafucka out here man, you know what I'm sayin'?"}
{"text":"Bloody ink on my pad spelled suicide\nMichael Jackson even passed cause you scrutinized\nFuck Illuminati lies, say I'm lucified\nBaptized in the gutter, motherfucker you decide\nCause the ride come with doors that be suicide\nOr the thighs on my whores, they be super-sized\nGood and bad having wars, nigga, choose a side\nNow all hail to the Lord like you do to God\nWho am I? Lord Flacko\nPainting vivid pictures, call me Basquiat, Picasso\nCapo Head Hancho, now my following's colossal\nAin't no boxer, Pacquiao, but got the chopper todo caso\nIt's like you heard God spoke, I seen the ghetto gospel\nThe choir like my reefer and the preacher got my eyes low\nSister Mary Jane to make me sleep from singing high notes\nThe bible or the rifle, goodnight folks\n\nBloody ink on my pen spelled suicide\nKurt Cobain even died cause you scrutinize\nIt's a fine line between truth and lies\nJesus Christ never lied, still was crucified\nThat's why I never judge another nigga\nLife's a bitch, but that bitch in love with other niggas\n3 to a bed, sheets, no covers nigga\nDirty kitchen, no supper in the cupboards nigga\nSucker niggas, wassup with niggas?\nSo my new attitude is like \"Fuck them niggas!\"\nI grew up with niggas but don't fuck with niggas\nI don't trust them niggas, ain't got no love for niggas\nHad the gold grills shining like them southern niggas\nKept it trilla, now the whole world fuckin' with us\nMeanwhile, you treated all of us like other niggas\nNow your world is in my palm, take cover niggas\nYou might also like\nIf I shall ever fall, Lord pick me up\nEver since a baby, two deuce in sippy cups\nEver since them diapers and my zip-me-ups\nNow I'm walking on my own, y'all, wish me luck\n\nWhere do we lie\nTell me where do we stand\nWhere do we go\nIt's all part of the plan\nWhere do we lie\nTell me where do we stand\nWhere do we go\nIt's all part of the plan"}
{"text":"\nYeah, live through the strugglin', life's a every day (Hustle)\nI hustle every day in life, thinkin' back\nTakin' packs up the block, them older niggas said I couldn't (Hustle)\nMan fuck them niggas, I'll be back, strapped backpack\nBitch, I'm flippin' work, hand in hand, I think they call it track (Hustle)\nRacin' laps, re-up went to waste, it pays to make it stack\nFace the fact, there's always niggas out there, tryin' to knock the (Hustle)\nI guess that's why they say we trap, don't let niggas hold you back\nI'm just a kettle from the ghetto with no pot to piss in\nSo who am I to call it black? Black man, black male\nBlack ball, black opsy, black diamonds glistenin' (Yeah)\nAttract the pigs and all the rats, kitten scratch\nI went from roaches on my bump to red brooches on the cuff\nOf my tux, chauffeur pullin' up, no if, and's\u200b or buts about him\nI went to Paris for my trunks, 100 thousand spent on Goyard\nUsed 'em once, couldn't give a shit, damn or fuck about 'em\nHit Canal Street, vintage gold medallion\nSmokin' blunts in front of public housin'\nWildin' 'til they throw me in them cuffs\nMouth full of fronts, look like Master P up in my Cartiers (Uh)\nDiamonds shinin' in the frames\nChanged the game and made them say (Uh)\nAin't no limits to this shit, life's a flick, you're stickin' to the script\nMy life is like a movie, they should film me through it\nTake a pic', be sure to frame the shit, forever me, was always G\nWay before this famous shit, y'all just pretend to do it\nYou might also like\nYou say you got them guns, but I've never seen you bang (Bang)\nYou say you got them drugs, but I've never seen you slang (Alright)\nYou say you in that game, but I've yet to see you play (What?)\nYou say you going hard, but nobody feels the same, yeah\nYou say you got them guns, but I've never seen you bang\nYou say you got them drugs, but I've never seen you slang (Oh)\nYou say you in that game, but I've yet to see you play\nYou say you going hard, but nobody feels the same, yeah\n\nRap game like the crack game, swear it's all the same (Hustle)\nWhippin' soda through the pot, watch it bubble\nFlexin' muscle, hit the block, I bet I teach you niggas how to (Hustle)\nSellin' coca on the charts, watch it double\nUh, takin' meetings on my bus, this shit my mobile office\nGettin' head while at my desk, this shit my oval office\nI remember when I got a hundred for recordings\nNow the sum of my performances just put me on the Forbes list\nFuck jiggy, I'm flawless, fuck pretty, I'm gorgeous\nYour favorite rappers' corpses couldn't measure my importance\nMy mind is out in orbits, plus my ego got endorsements\nHeard the people want that raw shit, but y'all be talkin' bullshit\nYou say you got them guns, but I've never seen you bang (Bang)\nYou say you got them drugs, but I've never seen you slang (Alright)\nYou say you in that game, but I've yet to see you play (What?)\nYou say you going hard, but nobody feels the same, yeah\nYou say you got them guns, but I've never seen you bang (What?)\nYou say you got them drugs, but I've never seen you slang\nYou say you in that game, but I've yet to see you play\nYou say you going hard, but nobody feels the same, yeah\nSee you bang\nSee you slang\nSee you play\n\u2014Bodies in the way"}
{"text":"Gang! Gang! Gang!\nThey talkin' down on my name, don't let 'em run off with the name\nMan I just run with the gang, A$AP boys came with the flame\nGang! Gang! They talkin' down on the gang\nThey wanna rep with the name, but this ain't no regular name\nGang! Gang! They tryna run with the name\nI might pull up with 3K but I do not fuck with no Klans\n\nGang! Gang! Them boys not flexin' the same\nI'm done with adjustin' to fame, pull up on your set, leave a stain\nGang! Gang! I tell her come fuck with the gang\nI tell 'em don't fuck with the gang\nIt's time to fuck up the whole game!\n\nCome fuck with the Mob, shout out to the Lords and the Gods\nIn love with my bitch 'cause she bi\nMy ice like the stars, I tell that bitch, \"Cover your eyes\n'Cause fuckin' with me, you go blind\"\nShe losin' her mind, we kiss to Frank Ocean and Blonde\nConvincin' my bitch to go blonde\nWas born in the dark, I kill you, you open my blinds\nOn Yams and that's word to my moms\nMargiela Madman with cases I'm still tryna beat\nA bunch of shit from a long time ago\nThe bigger they are, the harder they fall\nLike dominos, nigga, Geronimos\nWhen it's my time to go, adi\u00f3s, v\u00e1monos\nFlacko no Dominicano, but eat the tostones with pl\u00e1tanos\nDealing with life and its highs and lows\nI'm just pimpin' like I'm supposed\nI guess it's called livin', shit, I suppose\nI'm on my live alone, die VLONE\nAin't talkin' 'bout spending or buyin' clothes\nI'm 'bout my business but I'm alone\nI still had the vision when I was broke\nFuckin' on bitches and foreign hoes\nFlyin' out womens to boring shows\nI pray to God I don't overdose\nYou might also like\nI put A$AP on my tat\nI put New York on the map\nI put the gang on the flames\nThey gon' remember the name\nThey robbin' boys for the chains\nI got Goyard by the sack\nI got the boof by the pack\nI fucked your boo on her back\n\nGang! Gang! Them boys not flexing the same\nI'm done with adjusting to fame, pull up on your set, leave a stain\nGang! Gang! I tell her come fuck with the gang\nI tell 'em don't fuck with the gang\nIt's time to fuck up the whole game! (Game, game, game, game)\n\nGang, gang\nThey tryna front on the gang, they gon' remember my name\nTrue to truth somehow (Gang, gang)\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nThey tryna front on the gang\nTruth somehow\nGang, A$AP boys come with the flame\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nIn my dreams, I'm dying all the time\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all\nThen I wake, it's kaleidoscopic mind\nBut never truly lied at all\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nI never meant to hurt you (Then and now)\nI never meant to lie"}
{"text":"For all 'em hoes that was frontin' on niggas back in the days, man\n(You know I'm sayin'? This for my broke jiggy niggas right now, you know)\nExcuse me, fuck out my face\nThey say wealth is in the mind, not the pocket\nI learned that from a very wise man\n(Gotta pocket full of stones like Pimp say, this shit)\n(Uh, yeah)\n\nOkay excuse me, Mr. Bill Collector, I got problems\nMy check arrive ma\u00f1ana, I'ma pay my debt, I promise\nI spent 20 thousand dollars with my partners in Bahamas\nAnother 20 thousand dollars on Rick Owens out in Barneys\nI said excuse me, why the fuck you lookin'? What's your problem?\nI swear we gon' have drama if you touch my tailored garments\nAll you see is niggas here, so that means it's triggers there\nWhat you mean? We got weed, and codeine and bricks for sale (Excuse me)\nI bet a lot of niggas plottin' so you know I got that heater, bruh (Excuse me)\nDrive my side of Harlem, catch me ridin' with my Nina, bruh (Excuse me)\nShe got an apple bottom that remind you of Bonita, bruh\nOh, you mean like Q-Tip? Now that girl my new bitch\nExcuse me, no, I believe the proper term's excuse you\nI could switch up on you niggas and start shittin' if I choose to\nThat's when the new you becomin' different since they knew you\nI guess the new me is just gon' take some gettin' used to (Excuse me)\nYou might also like\nExcuse me, I tell them they're excused\nWhat's the word around town, tell me what's the latest news\nAnd, uh, who them niggas, I tell 'em we them dudes\nAin't got time to make excuses, bruh, we steady making moves\nAnd I, run the game even when they bend the rules\nI pay very close attention after that I pay my dues\nAnd, uh, excuse me, may I be excused?\n'Cause I gave this shit my all, ain't got nothin' left to lose\n\nTell me why these little niggas talking like they killers, bruh\nNowadays these niggas always caught up in they feelings, bruh\nBut I stay 100 'cause you know I keep it triller, bruh\nMobbin like 2Pacalypse or Bishop how I Hit 'Em Up\nFill 'em up with lyrics, bury all my victims, kill 'em\nDig 'em up again, to say I did it\nSnitch, excuse me, mind your business, bruh\nSwear that you could get it, girl\nShe a fashion killer, huh? Killer girl, I'm a go-getter, she get it, girl\n\nFlacko, where you been? I've been thuggin' with my niggas, bruh\nFlacko, how you been? I'm still thuggin' with my niggas, bruh\nFlacko, where you been? I've been thuggin' with my niggas, bruh\nFlacko, how you been? I've been thuggin' with my...\nBuggin' with my niggas, gold sluggin'\nTell me who fuckin' with my niggas\nWho run it, my niggas, fuck the fussin', they buckin' and bussin'\nNow niggas slump over Robitussin in public\nCup full of purple substance or something\nMy niggas, the only thing that move me: 'Excuse me'\n\nExcuse me, I tell them they're excused\nWhat's the word around town, tell me what's the latest news\nAnd, uh, who them niggas, I tell 'em we them dudes\nAin't got time to make excuses, bruh, we steady making moves\nAnd I, run the game even when they bend the rules\nI pay very close attention after that I pay my dues\nAnd, uh, excuse me, may I be excused?\n'Cause I gave this shit my all, ain't got nothin' left to lose\n\nFlacko, Flacko, Flacko, Flacko, Flacko, Flacko, Flacko, Flacko, Flacko, Flacko, Flacko, Flacko"}
{"text":"You know us big mouth Harlem niggas don't know how to act\nI got my West Coast connection\nThese dead in the street industry mothafuckas\nTalkin' 'bout we can't eat, talking 'bout we brand new guys\nTell them niggas \"Suck a dick!\"\n\nI'm camo'd down to my boxers, gold teeth, a Bathing Ape\nIt's animals in my projects, like monkeys, orangutans\nBanana clip on that chopper, I hold heat, bangers bang\n(Let Chiquita speak) Bet it keep the peace, that Lil B, brrangadang\nI don't care if you blue or you red flagging\nHair swinging, my pants sagging\nHoes all on my bandwagon, your bitch gagging, she jet lagging\nAll my cuz niggas, what's cracking?\nAll my blood niggas, what's popping?\nI ain't set tripping, I just happen\nTo know who click-clacking, you mismatching\nFuck swagging, you been jacking, fuck fly, I am fashion\nTryna cop that Benz wagon, my bitch drive it, my friends crash it\nNiggas threat with the chit-chatting, see a nigga don't shit happen\nI'm finna blow on that Bin Laden, so talk money, pig latin\n(Suck my fuckin' dick, bitch!)\n\nBrand new clip, brand new nine (Bitch)\nBrand new bitch, brand new ride (Bitch)\nBrand new weed, brand new high (Woo)\nBrand new me, meet the brand new guys (Bitch)\nBrand new clip, brand new nine (Woo)\nBrand new bitch, brand new ride (Bitch)\nBrand new weed, brand new high (Woo)\nBrand new me, meet the brand new guys (Bitch)\nYou might also like\n.345 be the big toy, now which nigga want it with the fat boy?\nUh, clipped-up like I'm paranoid, high as hell nigga, Fitzroy\nPull it off through the city like \"errt\"\nSeen that ho nigga like \"errr,\" hopped up on a nigga like murk\nPut that pussy nigga in a purse\nHe wouldn't be the first, cover him with dirt (Yeah, uh, shit)\nPut him in the ground, he was down to Earth\nA napped up nigga, I been down since birth\nBackpack full of random work\nWith two bad hoes, I'll teach you how to jerk\n(Teach you how to jerk?) Swaggin' in my Js\nPop me a pill and throw that pussy a rave (Pussy a rave)\nMy prerogative ways\nNappy chin hairs with the brand new fade (Yeah)\nBrand new nigga with the brand new venue\nSold that bitch out, shoulda made that ho bigger\nKilling careers make these cupcakes remember\nMy objective is to serve your agenda\nBiggie and Nas put they ass in a blender\nSprinkle some 50 and came out this nigga\nEquipped with a gat and a dick in your mouth\nBalls in my hands and your bitch in my house\nTwisting up weed, I'm digging her out\nJust filling her out\nDo all that shit you be talking about\nWhile you gone? Shit, Netflix on your couch\nWhat this popcorn about?\nMicrowave oven while you out there cuffin'\nYou over there lovin'\nThat bitch be my stuffing, like, like we really be fucking\nBrand new clip, brand new nine (Bitch)\nBrand new bitch, brand new ride (Bitch)\nBrand new weed, brand new high (Woo)\nBrand new me, meet the brand new guys (Bitch)\nBrand new clip, brand new nine (Woo)\nBrand new bitch, brand new ride (Bitch)\nBrand new weed, brand new high (Woo)\nBrand new me, meet the brand new guys (Bitch)\n\nBrand new shirt to the brand new drawers\nBrand new socks to the brand new Glock\nThis mothafucka hold 15, slap that ho in, tell the clip get lost\nBitch, I'm a boss, pulled up clean, don't you hear the exhaust?\nGot my tie on, gripping on my iron on who I'm 'bout to fire on\nRap game fucked up, boy, fuck you think I rap for?\nCrack game fucked up, boy, fuck you think I trap for?\nRidin' 'round with that mask on\nLike a MAC attack when that strap on\nLike a Shaq attack on that backboard, clap on, clap off\nBlue pit in my back yard, red nose my bad broad\nTitan full of that hydro, pretty nigga, no catwalk\nBig burner in your big mouth, pussy niggas suck lead off\nI pull it up then skirt off, vodka shots, he smeared off\n40 ounce of that Cristal Ros\u00e9, that Rick Ross\nGot it jumping like Kriss Kross, mismatching, no jigsaw\nNo horseplay when we quick draw, pussy nigga get a tit job\nHands up, stick your mans up, your time's up, the new brand's up\nQ!"}
{"text":"Uh\nThey call me F-L-A-C-K-O and don't play, no, 'bout my papes\nBaked potato on that Draco, new bandana on my face\nAin't no stains up on my drapes, squeaky clean, fuck you say?\nPeep them teeth, no dentures please\nPrincess cut, no dentist, please\nSay cheese for the cameras (Ayy)\nEight Gs for the dancers (Ayy)\nBenjis in the safe (That's right, ayy)\nBentleys for the phantoms (Uh)\nBut they all go to waste (Uh)\nSo what more can I say?\nPraise to the Lord, give him grace\nThe scar on my face\nBut w-wait\n\n(\u200becafracS ,sruoy si dlrow ehT)\nThe world is yours, Scarface, nigga\n(\u200becafracS ,sruoy si dlrow ehT)\n\nI ain't duckin' niggas, I ain't duckin' bullets either\nShit, I ain't duck sauce since I became a vegan\nNigga, Flacko Jodye season\nPrada pants before the season\nProbably ducked off in a quiet place wit' ya breezy\nPrada shades, that's probably why you couldn't see him\nShittin' me? (Boy)\nYou might also like\nI would like to dedicate\nTo the scar on my face\nAll the stars of the globe\nThe world is yours, Scarface\nI would like to dedicate this\nTo the scar on my face\nMany stars on the globe\nThe world is yours, Scarface\n\nUh, fuck no, this ain't no hookah\nSmokin' while I'm strollin' down Wooster\nBuck fifty, my babushka\nNo pistol poppers and prostituters\nCard scammers and the Prada boosters\nLow top, yeah, the powder blue ones\nRobber too, huh? Power to ya\nHallelujah, better pray to God\n\nI would like to dedicate\nTo the scar on my face\nAll the stars of the globe\nThe world is yours, Scarface\nI would like to dedicate this\nTo the scar on my face\nMany stars of the globe\nThe world is yours, Scarface\nUh, pearls and diamonds, that's excessive\nMoney, power, that's excessive\nMoney problems, that's expected\nMarijuana, ass, and breastes\nPearls and diamonds, that's excessive\nMoney, power, that's excessive\nMoney problems, that's expected\nMarijuana, ass, and breastes"}
{"text":"Do just what I tell you (Uh)\nDon't come in any closer (Uh)\nAnd no one will get hurt\n'Cause I don't know how long I can hold my heart in two (Uh)\n\nA rebel I be one day, on that track with Gunplay\nOut\u2014 Outcast my whole life so I decide to spit like Andr\u00e9 (Uh)\nBeef is on my entr\u00e9e (Yeah), gin and juice, that's Bombay\nDriving fast the wrong way, I swear life is like a one-way (Uh)\nPussy on a Sunday (Yeah), business on a Monday (Yeah)\nMy new crib came with feng shui and my closet's like a runway (Uh)\nCome be my fianc\u00e9e, she fucked me in a Hyundai\nMy rooftop got a lounge, just sit around and watch her sunbathe (Yeah)\nDinner date for one K (Bitch), shopping date for two K (Bitch)\nBougie-ass bitch made me wait to fuck for two days (Yeah)\nFinally got it today (Uh), swear to God my mood changed (Uh)\nTop off like toupees, drive off, touch\u00e9 (Bitch, uh)\nYeah\u2014 Yeah, my mouth is full of gold and I'm a city boy (Yeah)\nAnd my outfit was in Vogue, I'm a pretty boy (Uh)\nBounce, boy, Flacko tell 'em holler at a nigga, G (Yeah)\nRidin' on my enemies (Yeah), this my ghetto symphony (Uh, uh, yeah), 'ny\nUh (Uh), uh (Yeah)\nUh (Uh, yeah)\nYou might also like\nSing\nLouder\nDon't come in any closer\nDon't come in any closer\nDon't come in any closer\nDon't come in any closer\n\nWhip\u2014 Whippin' Whitney, my mama as a witness\nBitches lickin' and lockin' up my Swishers\nOnce she blow my whistle, she know it's dismissal\nSpread the news, I'm official, now hop out my foreign vessel (Uh)\nBefore I get aggressive, forget it, war-ready\nAlready tested, tears and blood invested\n'Til my cardiac's arrested and my 40 ounce is empty\nShow me what you owe me and a porterhouse with that (Uh)\nBlack magic on the tires, only I\nRoll\u2014 Rollin' down a lonely mile, phony smile\nWarrants, police on me now, still tourin'\nAnd my chain, it may slow me down, cheer for it\nPain in its purest form\nDon't complain, I came to reign from here forward\nStill 'noid, so the crib got clear doors\nBurnin' planes in my Air Force\nAnd all I can see is Clearports (Uh)\nSing\nLouder\nDon't come in any closer\nDon't come in any closer\nDon't come in any closer\nDon't come in any closer (Uh)\n\nSince Rocky spit like Andr\u00e9\nI'm gon' kill 'em like Big Boi\nThese rappers is on my entr\u00e9e\nEat 'em like cookies, Chips Ahoy\nMm, enjoy, when I get annoyed\nKnow a couple niggas that'll kill for joy\nEither Gunplay, runway, trip avoid\nBody get found by a little fishin' boy\nArnold Schwarzenigga, toss a nigga\nLike codeine mixed with a 'roid\nSlow punch make a nigga chin collide\nFuck talking, how fast you could grip a nine?\nDamn\nLook at how the hollow tip hit his spine\nLittle motherfuckers that commit to crime\nThese niggas had the sidewalk sippin' wine\nGuess that's why the ground sip the wine\nPouring liq' so I soak in, lift and shine\nTip-tip and toe, I miss the sky\nMy soul gets cold when my niggas died\nSo and so, niggas live and die\nBeneath shoe soles you will reside\nRappers get a mil' for these freakin' lies\nSign a couple deals for these freakin' lies\nHow many times your eyes seen a nigga die?\nNever\nSpittin' it like a Beretta, nobody do it better, nigga"}
{"text":"All I think about is life, nights, sipping on Sprite\nLittle codeine, nigga get throwed right\nTwo blonde dykes wanna kiss all night\nI just pray to God that the shit go right\nLittle argument, and their fists don't fight\nFuck a dog ho and the bitch gon' bite\nA$AP nigga, sip Cris all night\nSo them R. Kelly hoes getting pissed on twice\nDamn, how a young nigga get so nice?\nYoung nigga cold like he sitting on ice\nFuck broke, tryna be rich all life\nI coulda been a criminal and just rolled dice\nMy nuts hanging, my top back\nHoes screaming that Pac back\nThrowing Westside, bandana tied\nA$AP life, got a Pac tat\nHarlem world my whole block strapped\nHoes all on my jock strap\nMy whip white but my top black\nAnd my bitch white but my cock black\nPurple drink? Got that\nTell these hoes all to twerk something\nBounce on me bitch, hurt something\nTell her pop that pussy like it's worth something\nSo shorty, she a stunner and daddy, he a runner\nBe that pretty mothafucka, you could call me what you wanna\nCause I'm in love with that ass, she in love with the cash\nSo she shaking it fast and then making them stacks\nAnd I'm taking it back and I'm taking her back\nTo the house just to bust in her mouth and I'm kicking her out\nYou might also like\nHow 'bout me and you and you and I\nTake a ride to make this high\nOn and on and on and on\nOn and on and on and on\n\nSo I say pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nThat's all a nigga need\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nThat's all a nigga need\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nThat's all a nigga need\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nThat's all a nigga need\n\nIt's A$AP Q, where the bread at?\nFuck around and bring the hush puppies back\nShe fuck me and the homies, she was cool with that\nThe block hot so I'm shaded in my bucket hat\nPause a little bit, I gotta little advice\nIf you fucked her once, then you could fuck her twice\nAnd don't get head from hoes with overbites\nJust giving out game, nigga show your right\nBorn stunna nigga, turn night to bright\nHigh as a kite in my Nike Flights\nMade 30 Racks it was just a flight\nFlew a bitch out too, it was just a night\nShorty got the booty make a nigga say, \"Whoa\"\nCan I suck your titties, tryna see how far I can go\nTry again and then again and she ain't telling me no\nSweetie tell me how you feeling, can I feel on you more?\nShe said, \"I ain't fucking for free,\" but ain't shit I can't afford\nShit, I'll pay you for it, now bounce that ass on my bungee cord\nYeah, whoopsie daisy, put a good kid in your Section.80\nTurn a baby into a lady, now here go the keys to my new Mercedes\nCause shawty she a stripper, all you got to do is tip her\nShe like ballers with some money screaming fuck them other niggas\nNow do A through Z for a G, panties go down to her feet\nPussy get wetter for me, smackin' that ass to the beat, give her that Diggity-D\nHow 'bout me and you and you and I\nTake a ride to make this high\nOn and on and on and on\nOn and on and on and on\n\nSo I say pussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nThat's all a nigga need\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nThat's all a nigga need\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nThat's all a nigga need\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nPussy, money, weed\nThat's all a nigga need"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishEnglishPurple Swag Lyrics\nSmoke, Ty Beats\nBetter do it 'til we get right, uhh\n\nThis is for my niggas getting high on the regular\nThis is for my bitches getting high on the regular\n\nPurple drank, I still sip, purple weed blunt still lit\nReal nigga, real bitch, purple swag, that trill shit\nThem candy cars, I'm coming down, that paint drip, I still tip\nThat pimp shit, she ain't plan to fuck, I pick her up, I still hit\nThat's swag, bitch\n\n\"I said\"\nEverything is purple (Swag)\nEverything is purple (Swag, swag, swag)\n\"I said\"\nEverything is purple (Swag)\nEverything is purple (Swag, swag, swag)\n\nPurple swag, purple swag, I'm in the zone, I'm getting throwed\nThat purple swag, purple swag, that purple smoke up in my clothes\nThat big booty, juicy fruity, yellow bone, I wanna bone\nI'm getting dome, I took her out, dick in her mouth, she getting on\nI'm flexing steel, I'm flexing still, I'm sitting high, I'm tipping slow\nI'm Texas trill, Texas trill, but in NY we spit it slow\nI got these boppas going crazy, they see me coming\nRobitussin, quit discussing, ASAP tell these niggas something, swag\nYou might also like\n\"I said\"\nEverything is purple (Swag)\nEverything is purple (Swag, swag, swag)\n\"I said\"\nEverything is purple (Swag)\nEverything is purple (Swag, swag, swag)"}
{"text":"\nAnd I'm a man of my word, that I got nothin' at all\nSo tell me now does it hurt or is it too late? I'm a man of my law\nI gotta keep my weight up, but who will lean if I fall?\nBut never mind, I'm fly, you know (Yeah)\n\nShe the type to seek love and make it everlasting\nI'm the type to wake up and say you never happened\nI mean, I fucked the girl with hella passion\nBut it's cold how we smashin', left her sleepin' on a separate mattress\nI think her body makes for better practice\nGood excuse for my absence like, \"Flacko, where your ass been?\nHeard you done with fashion, now your ass is acting\"\nI'm trippin' off the acid, now your ass is looking massive\nThis ain't the shit equipped with columns from my reckless swagging\nThis that dark house party with this record blasting\nRolling spliffs, clique beside me, fingers Liberace\nWhen I seen this bitch in vintage Tommy and some mid Huaraches\nI'm all alone though, mood music make me bop slower\nTrippin' on how I shifted pop culture, changed hip-hop on you\nSmoking like a rasta was my pop's culture\nI be damned if I die sober, I'll be sure to visit 'Pac for you\nYou might also like\nAnd I'm a man of my word, that I got nothin' at all\nSo tell me now does it hurt or is it too late? I'm a man of my law\nI gotta keep my weight up, but where do I land if I fall?\nBut never mind, I'm fly, you know (Uh, uh)\n\nAnd shout outs my pretty womens in the spot tonight\nLet me see them fuckin' hands\nAnd for the freaks that love the niggas with the Jeeps\nLex, coupes and the Bimmers and the Benz, come again\nWhen my death calls, I pray the Lord accept collect calls\n'Cause I be playin' with these womens like they sex dolls\nCall my Prada prior, 'cause it's droppin' next fall\nDon't you short the next ball, my closet like the Met ball\nShe said, \"I just love it when you speak soft-spoken\nUp in the magazines with your teeth all golden\"\nTook the whole year off just to learn to make beats\nDropped the flames on my release and leave the streets all smokin'\nUh, that touch your soul music, I get you higher\nGrab your lighter fluid, might add a preacher and a choir to it\nI speak the father's music, hallelujah\nAlways Strive & Prosper, stupid\nEven Montell can't tell you how we do it\nSit back and watch me do it\nAnd I'm a man of my word, that I got nothin' at all\nSo tell me now does it hurt or is it too late? I'm a man of my law\nI gotta keep my weight up, but where do I land if I fall?\nBut never mind, I'm fly, you know\n\nOkay, let's get past all the swag trappin' and fashion talkin'\nYou want that take it to gats or keep it in rappin' talkin'\nThey rap impulsive, get embarrassed, it actually happens often\nYou my son like my last abortion, I'm just laughin' off it\nI changed rap, pushed fashion forward, yeah, I'm that important\nYou jack my style, she jack me off, and y'all both actin' awkward?\nJigglin' baby, nah, go 'head, bitch\nAin't nothin' better than the pretty big forehead bitch\nListen close I got some shit to tell you, motherfuckers get familiar\nIt's not just model bitches on my genitalia\nDid Azalea's from Australia, trips to Venezuela\nCinderella's under my umbrella for different weather\nElla, ella, ayy, just play it like I didn't tell you\nNiggas takin' pictures any time we get together\nAnd hope to fly away just one day like some love birds\nOnly one word that I'm afraid of is the \"Love\" word\nMore power to you, more power to you, my lovely one\nMore power to you, more power to you, my lonely one\nMore power to you, more power to you, my lovely one\nWhat's up, bruh? That all depends\nWith friends like you, who need friends?\nSometimes the best advice is no advice\nEspecially when it's your advice\nOh, man, remember\nYour man was on stage dressed like a family member\nMan, everything basic to Ye Guevara\nThat means Saint Laurent is my Zara\nI remember Rochelle ain't wanna fuck me with the polo\nAyy, bitch, you missed out, #fomo\nI got one child, one child\nBut I'm fuckin', fuckin', fuckin' like I'm tryna make four more\nThey wanna throw me under a white jail\n'Cause I'm a black man with confidence of a white male\nHallelujah"}
{"text":"\nClams Casino, nigga\nA$AP\n\nMr. Pistol Popper, Flacko locked and loaded\nLife's a bitch and she pussy pop, know why? Cause I got her open\nThat pussy soaking, fuck is you promoting?\nYeah, you claim you rage, you hating like you live in Oakland\nAll my rap town niggas with the roof back\nIntroduce you niggas to the new swag\nMake you say a nigga blew up too fast\nFuck I'm 'sposed to do with all this new ass?\nFuck I'm 'sposed to do with all this new cash?\nThousand dollar drawers just to hold my balls\nAll I ever do is let my jewels sag\nPac gone, but the \"Juice\" back\nGet your popcorn, juice, snacks\nIt's a movie nigga, with a new cast\nGet the news flash, that the truth back\nThis is boom bap, mixed with new raps\nLook at all the niggas that I blew past\nHood by Air, to the do-rag\nNigga make way for the new jacks\nYou might also like\nYea, uh\nYea, uh\nUhh\nYea, yea\nUhh\nUh, uhh\n\nIt's Mr. Pistol Popper screaming, \"Fuck a copper\"\nI just bought a crispy choppa, finna fuck your block up, blocka!\nEven cracked the pavement that's for niggas hating\nI been impatiently waiting to show you niggas Satan\nAll this talk of Illuminati ain't got a clue about me\nBitch, I'm Trillmaluminati and got my crew behind me\nShooters round me, keep them looters round me\nKeep a tool around me, it'll keep you fools from round me\nCouple of them dudes surround me\nWith a gat, with a strap in a backpack\nWhen they cap cap, leave you flat, better back back\nOn a fast track, ratatat, nigga that's that\nNigga pass that, finna ash, where the hash at\nGot a Kat Stacks with a ass, finna smash that\nMake 'em catch that, A$AP, then I pass that\nOff to my niggas then she ask, \"Where the cash at?\"\nI see dead people, I need dead people\nLord Pretty Flacko, bitch, I behead people\nKneel and kiss the ring, all hail the King\nLong Live A$AP put that on everything\nAlright, mothafucka\nAlright, A$AP\nAll you need is love\nAll you need is love\nAll you need is love\nAll you need is love\nAll you need is love"}
{"text":"\nYeah, yeah, yeah, this year we finna make a killin' (Yeah)\nNow the money stack up to the ceilin' (Yeah, whoo)\nAll I know is payback, all I rep is A$AP (Whoo)\nNow we finna go off in the buildin' (Yeah)\nI could really give a fuck about your feelings (Yeah)\nUsed to be a schoolboy and a rude boy too\nNot a jerk like the New Boyz, groovin' like ScHoolboy Q, nigga\nI done killed a few boys, nigga (Yeah)\nDown a couple shots, turn it up another notch\nGot a bitch that's in the spot and she faded (Yeah)\nCorset top with the new ass shots\nCouple Instagram likes, now she famous, uh (Yeah)\nNose job, workin' on some payments (Yeah)\nOn a new car, now she finna trade it, uh (Yeah)\nNext time, you shouldn't've sucked a nigga dick for free\nMan, I swear the smart girls are my favorite, uh (Yeah)\nOh, my God, your cable's turned off\nYou shouldn't have sucked the nigga's dick for free\nBrand new 'Rari, finna race it (Yeah)\nI am not the nigga you should play with (Yeah)\nThis year, I turned it into the racist (Yeah)\nAll I wanna see is green faces (Whoo)\nAll I wanna count is green numbers (Yeah)\nMan, that shit is weird, lookin' like the Matrix (Yeah)\nGave 'em HiiiPower, Always Strive And Prosper\nOnly took a little bit of patience (Whoo)\nYou might also like\nShorty she like to pop ass high\nPopped her way up to first class high\nShe clap-clap-clap-clap-clap, she drop it low-ow-ow\nThen she clap-clap-clap-clap-clap, down to the floor-or-or\nShake that ass, girl, make that coochie wet (Ow-ow-ow)\nShake that ass, girl, make that coochie wet (Ow-ow-ow)\nShake that ass, girl, make that coochie wet (Ow-ow-ow)\nShake that ass, girl, make that coochie wet (Ow-ow-ow)\n\nYeah, ever seen a crib like this?\nDiamonds in my ear like wrists (Yeah)\nPull off at the light like, \"Wuh\"\nLookin' like a mil' in that trunk\nTwo-seater got me lookin' all clumped (Yeah)\nHit a nigga wig on sight (Sight)\nServe a nigga mom off white (White)\nI'ma get her so high, I'm Christ\nNigga, ball so hard like Mike\nI could whip that bitch like Ike\nI can fuck your bitch off hype\nPink ring, got bling all bright\nHow a hot nigga rock this ice?\n14, almost got that strike (Strike)\n14, almost did that time (Time)\n14, had a .905\nClip small, but the shit shoot fine\nShoot a spine, make a nigga recline\nStart sparkin', a nigga go blind\nG Rides, hoppin' out of Nissans\nDo I got them hoes chirpin'? Yeah, uh\nDo I put the work in? Yeah\nDo I got them hoes out workin'? Yeah\nDo I make 'em put the work in the Birkin? Yeah (Whoo)\nShorty she like to pop ass high\nPopped her way up to first class high\nShe clap-clap-clap-clap-clap, she drop it low-ow-ow\nThen she clap-clap-clap-clap-clap, down to the floor-or-or\nShake that ass, girl, make that coochie wet (Ow-ow-ow)\nShake that ass, girl, make that coochie wet (Ow-ow-ow)\nShake that ass, girl, make that coochie wet (Ow-ow-ow)\nShake that ass, girl, make that coochie wet (Ow-ow-ow) (Yeah)\n\nOhh, memories\nOhh, memories\nOhh, memories\nOhh, memories\nWe've got electric body, we found ourselves the perfect way\nOhh, memories\nWe've got electric body, never gonna be alone\nOhh, memories\nWe've got electric body, we found ourselves the perfect way\nOhh, memories\nWe've got electric body, we've got electric body\nOhh, memories\nWe've got electric body, we've got electric body"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsAngels Lyrics\nTen gold chains, wood grain, propane\nSell a whole thang from the cellphone rang\nI'm the dope mane, bitches sniffing cocaine\nAll my young niggas know that they could always\nCall me, call me, call me\nAlways\nCall me, call me, call me\nAlways\nCall me, call me, call me\nAlways\nCall me, call me, call me\nIf-if-if you see me trouble, bitch\n\nThey call me Young Drug Dealer\nThey call me Young Thug Nigga\n24 karats my slugs glitter\n24 years old worth a couple million\nShoutouts to my cuz niggas\nFinna let it fly for my blood niggas\nMiddle finger up to you fuck niggas\nIf you a trill nigga then fuck with us\nNigga dash like a speed of a bullet\nWith a pistol on him, probably wouldn't even pull it\nHeart made of pudding\nMeanmuggin' with a hoodie like, what's goodie?\nTryin' to be the motherfucker that you couldn't knowin' you\nDown to let it fly when I shouldn't\nAll my young niggas, they gon' rep it to the fullest\nTell a fuck nigga, \"Be you\", fuck tough, be cool\nAll the young niggas in my crew, they down to let it fly\nYou might also like\nFor a nigga like me, young nigga like me (They let it fly)\nFor a nigga like me, young nigga like me (They let it fly)\nFor a nigga like me, young nigga like me (They let it fly)\nFor a nigga like me, jiggy young nigga like me (Flex)\n\nTen gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, right)\nSell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Yeah, yeah)\nTen gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, yeah)\nSell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Uh, right)\n\nNiggas got rips in they jeans, man, I started that\nHood By Air, man, I started that\nNiggas claim they the God of black\nWell, your name is purple, I'm the God of that\nGave you my back, nigga, pardon that\nFuck that shit, I brought mobbin' back\nBrought robbin' back\nBrought the Garden back\nMotherfuck Black Land, I brought Harlem back\nRollin' in my Benzo\nHoes on the curb, a couple of friends\nRollin' down my windows\nYo, what's the word? Fuck it, get in\nAnd ride 'round with these bimbos\nShe gave head to my kinfolk\nShoutouts my connect though\nKeep a watch out for them Winslows\n'Cause the boys' gon' creep, D-boys gon' serve\nHoes gon' skeet and the V gon' swerve\nI'ma get by while the world gon' turn\nI'ma get mine like you gon' get yours\nNiggas do the least when the piece got nerve\nNiggas in the streets when the heat got burned\nI'll tell a nigga, \"Be you\", fuck tough, be cool\nCouple young niggas down with my crew who be down to let it fly\nFor a nigga like me, young nigga like me (They let it fly)\nFor a nigga like me, young nigga like me (They let it fly)\nFor a nigga like me, young nigga like me (They let it fly)\nFor a nigga like me, jiggy young nigga like me (Flex)\n\nTen gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, right)\nSell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Yeah, yeah)\nTen gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, yeah)\nSell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Uh, right)\nTen gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, right)\nSell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Yeah, yeah)\nTen gold chains, wood grain, propane (Yeah, yeah)\nSell the whole thang from the cellphone rang (Uh, right)\n\nRight\nRight\nRight"}
{"text":"Oh, yeah, ah-ah\n\nFuck home, fuck sleep, come clean, zonin'\nCan't forget that I'm golden, can't forget where I'm going\nFuck popo, police, enemies, fake homies\nCan't forget that I'm a OG, better act like you know it (Oh, yeah)\n\nBlunt smoke, smoke weed, codeine, cough\nTell that bitch that I'm awesome, better back the fuck up off me\nCoco, C\u00e9line, Tiffany, she flossing (Oh)\nAin't concerned with who bought these\nCan't forget that she bossy\nWhen y'all was buying surfboards trying to ride the wave\nI was cooking up another fucking tidal wave (Brrr)\nHad to get entitled motherfuckers out the way\nHad to take another title, sorry for the wait (Oop)\nBarely ever took a break on, fashion like my time need\nMore hours in a day, I apologize if I'm late\nTap the vein, whoa, barely look like I'm awake\nDarker shades, bluer veins, bluer money in the bankroll\n\nFuck home, fuck sleep, come clean, zonin'\nCan't forget that I'm golden, can't forget where I'm going\nFuck popo, police, enemies, fake homies\nCan't forget that I'm a OG, better act like you know it\nYou might also like\nI remember I was poor and\nWhen I was young and living homeless\nNow I rock the Ricky Owens\nEyes lookin' like he rollin'\nGot new bags under my eyelids\nNew bags up in my closets\nNew bags like I went shoppin'\nNew bags on new bags\nMind's better at seeing two now (Ah, down)\nNeeding up on my downtime (Down, down)\nHit the waves with the new sound (Down, down)\nHouse tunes but it's screwed down\nThat's dope (Sauce)\nTake a sec to thank the Lord, 'nother one to call my folks\nHit my momma on the phone, she like \"Son, you the boss\" (Ah)\nFocus, don't get caught up in the moment (Ah)\nCan't forget that I'm golden, don't forget that I'm chosen\n\nFuck home, fuck sleep, come clean, zonin'\nCan't forget that I'm golden, can't forget where I'm going\nFuck popo, police, enemies, fake homies\nCan't forget that I'm a OG, better act like you know it\n\nThey called me a witch, burned me like saffron\nMy matter is golden, a child of the Odyssey\nMy touch is righteous, like virus my Midas\nI'm golden\nHe told me when I'm present, chosen\nSo hold me tight, I swear, I'm golden\nFuck home, fuck sleep, come clean, zonin' (Golden)\nCan't forget that I'm golden, can't forget where I'm going (Ahh, yeah)\nFuck popo, police, enemies, fake homies (Ahh)\nCan't forget that I'm a OG, better act like you know it"}
{"text":"I've been busy (Busy, busy)\nI've been fuckin' busy, I've been busy fuckin'\nI've been all kinds of busy, or sorta kinda busy\nLike shorty is we fuckin'? Well if not then fuck it\nApologies to the fam, we thought we ducked 'em\nSaid I was in a rush but I was busy rushin'\nIt's busy shit, busy that, busy this\nAnd I need a minute (Hold on)\n\nSee this what that voice in your head says\nWhen you try to get peace of mind\n\"I gotta find peace of mind\" (Ooh, going to find)\n\"I gotta find peace of mind\" (I'm going to find)\n\"I gotta find peace of mind\" (Yeah)\n\nSpendin' time spinnin' out toward a desire that wasn't pure\nBorn before the virus was cured, pitch perfect, violins on the floor\nFast forward, linings on my skull (this what that voice in your head says when you try to get piece of mind)\nThis the type of design I could afford\nFast forward, bands out\nGot they hands out like they acknowledgin' the F\u00fchrer (I gotta f-)\nI rewind, Nas track 6, rewind dance crazes\nRead my mind, freed my mind, feed my mind, makes sense\nJust like mirrors on the wall, just like sittin' on me (this what that voice in your head says when you try to get piece of mind)\nRaw in mirrors seen it all, could make two, a piece of mind (I gotta f-)\nFlickin' ash, pourin' a half, don't pour in a glass\nPour it in foam, this white got eggshells in my omelet\nMy earlobes, they yellow like the yolk is runnin'\nBrain on drugs, I still ain't got no peace of mind, fuck\nWoof, woof\u2014dogs in the place, loose tooth\u2014lost in the fray\nRoof lost on the Wraith, roof lost on the way\nFreeway, no Rozay, brute force, Br\u00fct champagne\nTell the front desk to cut new keys\nReserved in the Mercer for two years, in two suites\nTook out the bed like it's fuck sleep\nI'll smack a bitch like it's hot hands\nFired the label like fuck brands\nComfortable low nigga, fuck Xans\nComfortable slow, who the fuck ran\nNothin' is sweet, nothin' in tank sweet, it's just a tank P\nSalt on a slug, soda on slugged teeth, chewing on nothing\nYou're tweakin' or somethin', you're reachin' for somethin'\nYou're speakin', speak up then, you're thinkin', you\u2019re overthinkin'\nOne blink and I'm pre-cummin'\nThat could turn every no one into someone\nYou might also like\n\"I gotta find peace of mind\" (Ohh, do do, do do, oh)\n\"I gotta find peace of mind\" (Oh, oh)\n\"I gotta find peace of mind\" (Oh, oh)\n\"I gotta find peace of mind\" (You make my desire pure)\n\"I gotta find peace of mind\" (You make my desire pure)\nI just need peace of mind for my purity\n\"You make my desire pure, just tell me\"\n\"You make my desire pure, just tell me\"\n\nMemories burn the roaches\nCheer Hennessy for my old heads\nAmphetamines for the dosage\nKeepin' me up and focused\nJewelry cloth, my gold caps\nNY throwback like the old Fab (I'm undone because)\nLost in the Google Maps in your iMac, think my phone tapped\nHold up, hold that (Hold on, my nigga, hold that\u2014) (I'm undone because) thought\nNigga, pour up soda, nigga, hold that cough, tryna hold back\nThe call had dropped when the FaceTime paused , (I'm undone because) don't call back\nCan't cope when your heart broke\nSoft-spoken, roll somethin', cop somethin', Narco\nSaint like Joan of Arc, bro, ring barcode\nTwo of everything, should have been to blame when Noah's Ark broke (I'm undone because)\nTwo more drinks of everything before the bar closed\nFace-to-face with my demons at a barstool\nHaven't checked on my niece in weeks\nMonths past and months in between since me and my sister would speak\nNot a call or visit in weeks\nLost nothin' since September\nLast seen her September '16\nMan it feels like (I'm undone because)\nLose someone every release, it feels like the curse is in me (A$AP)\nPress is gone and I grief, I share with you my peace\n\"I'm undone because\u2014\"\n\"I'm undone because\u2014\""}
{"text":"Gang! Gang\nThey tryna front on the gang!\nThey going to remember my name\nAyy, anybody ever took the time to ask Rocky what A$AP mean to him?\nWell if so, he'll probably tell you, \"Always Striving and Prospering\"\nA$AP, partna'! Free my nigga, Cap\nR.I.P. Big Phil, R.I.P. A$AP Yams\nYa dig? (Gang!)\n\nCome fuck with the Mob, shout out to the Lords and the Gods\nIn love with my bitch 'cause she bi\nMy ice like the stars, I tell that bitch, \"Cover your eyes\n'Cause fuckin' with me, you go blind\"\nShe losin' her mind, we kiss to Frank Ocean and Blonde\nConvincin' my bitch to go blonde\nWas born in the dark, I kill you, you open my blinds\nOn Yams and that's word to my moms\nMargiela Madman with cases I'm still tryna beat\nA bunch of shit from a long time ago\nThe bigger they are, the harder they fall\nLike dominos, nigga, Geronimos\nWhen it's my time to go, adi\u00f3s, v\u00e1monos\nFlacko no Dominicano but eat the tostones with pl\u00e1tanos\nDealing with life and its highs and lows\nI'm just pimpin' like I'm supposed\nI guess it's called livin', shit, I suppose\nI'm on my live alone, die VLONE\nAin't talkin' 'bout spending or buyin' clothes\nI'm 'bout my business but I'm alone\nI still had the vision when I was broke\nFuckin' on bitches and foreign hoes\nFlyin' out womens to boring shows\nI pray to God I don't overdose\nYou might also like\nI put A$AP on my tat (Woo)\nI put New York on the map (Woo)\nI put the gang on the flames (Woo)\nThey gon' remember the name\nThey robbin' boys for the chains (Woo)\nI got Goyard by the sack (Woo)\nI got the boof by the pack (Woo)\nI fucked your boo in her back\n\nGang! Gang! Them boys not flexing the same\nI'm done with adjusting to fame, pull up on your set, leave a stain\nGang! Gang! I tell her come fuck with the gang\nI tell 'em don't fuck with the gang, it's time to fuck up the whole game!\n\n(Hmm-hmm-hmm)\n(Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm)\n(Hmm-hmm-hmm)\nHmm\n\nI'm free as a bird, I wanted this shit my whole life\nBut had all this stress on my mind\nUntil I realized, things pan out when it's right\nIn the meantime I'ma grind\nI think of them days when I was so young on my plight\nParty and bullshit and play\nWas up in the city, the one that's surrounded by lights\nWanted to burn it away\nGet out of his lane, got no time, don't need no advice\nExcept for my momma\nRide for my daughter, she's all I need\nShe got her father, as I grow\nHell yeah, I did it, I'm on a roll\nThought I'd be over my nigga, no\nI'm just gettin' warmed up, let's start the show\nI'm schoolin' these niggas, so in the zone and I'm rigged to blow\nA$AP and Cud Life forever though\nAnd I'm flossin' and bossin' these silly hoes\nLearned the codes, serve up the magic for all of those\nKids that ain't had someone on they own\nHang on the words, you each have your song\nGrab on and hold on, won't steer you wrong\nSing along, sing along, hmm\nI put A$AP on my tat (Woo)\nI put New York on the map (Woo)\nI put the gang on the flames (Woo)\nThey gon' remember the name\nThey robbin' boys for the chains (Woo)\nI got Goyard by the sack (Woo)\nI got the boof by the pack (Woo)\nI fucked your boo in her back (Woo)\n\nGang! Gang! Them boys not flexing the same\nI'm done with adjusting to fame, pull up on your set, leave a stain\nGang! Gang! I tell her come fuck with the gang\nI tell 'em don't fuck with the gang, it's time to fuck up the whole game!\n(Game, game, game, game)\n\nGang, gang\nThey tryna front on the gang, they gon' remember my name\nTrue to truth somehow (Gang, gang)\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nThey tryna front on the gang\nTruth somehow\nGang, A$AP boys come with the flame\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nIn my dreams, I'm dying all the time\nTrue to truth somehow\nBut never truly lied at all\nThen I wake, it's kaleidoscopic mind\nBut never truly lied at all\nBut never truly lied at all, then and now\nI never meant to hurt you (Then and now)\nI never meant to lie"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsWassup Lyrics\nClams Casino, A$AP (Wassup)\nSee me in the hood, the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup, hey)\nSee me in the hood, the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup, hey)\n\nBack once again, sipping Henn', mixed with juice and gin\nBitches in, couple lady friends countin' Benjamins\nSpinners spin on them twenty twins, that Mercedes Benz\nDividends made a change of plans, well that all depends\nShout-out my parolees and I smoke that OG\nKush motherfuck' the police, all my niggas rock gold teeth\nSo hood and we so street, sippin' on that codeine\nWe hustle hard, no sleep, your bitch loose, that's no leash\nI ain't talking 'bout no money, I ain't talking 'bout no cars\nTalking 'bout no diamonds 'cause that shit is a fa\u00e7ade\nTimes is really hard, I fucked a couple broads\nSmoked some purple out the jars, let me tell you who we are\n\nI be that pretty motherfucker, Harlem's what I'm reppin'\nTell 'em quit the bitchin', we gon' make it in a second\nPretty motherfucker, Harlem's what I'm reppin'\nTell 'em quit the bitchin', we gon' make it in a second\n\nSee me in the hood, the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup)\nSee me in the hood, the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup)\nSee me in the hood, the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup)\nSee me in the hood (Uh), the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup)\nUh\nYou might also like\nPretty nigga in some shit you never hear of\nOnly thing bigger than my ego is my mirror (Uh)\nClothes getting weirder\nMoney get longer, pretty nigga pin your hair up (Uh)\nThe nerve of this dude\nBut I'm cool as a vent, 40 ounce full of brew\n\nI be that pretty motherfucker, Harlem's what I'm reppin'\nTell 'em quit the bitchin', we gon' make it in a second\nPretty motherfucker, Harlem's what I'm reppin'\nTell 'em quit the bitchin', we gon' make it in a second\nI be that pretty motherfucker, Harlem's what I'm reppin'\nTell 'em quit the bitchin', we gon' make it in a second\nPretty motherfucker, Harlem's what I'm reppin'\nTell 'em quit the bitchin', we gon' make it in a second\n\nSee me in the hood, the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup)\nSee me in the hood, the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup)\nSee me in the hood, the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup)\nSee me in the hood, the gangstas saying, \"Wassup\" (Wassup)"}
{"text":"I swear this famous shit just happened overnight\nFor sure these hoes was so uptight, but now they so polite\nAll I see is fake love, smiles, and overbites\nBut I'm pimping, nigga: Dolemite\nI remember when, I was like ten, maybe nine\nRicky had a deuce-deuce, two shotty pumps with a baby nine\nBusta had the rhymes, Puffy had the Shyne\nBone Thugs had Mo Thugs but that was the shit, that made me rhyme\nWhat's up, what's on your mind? Hold up, I'm feeling fine\nLocs got me blind, thugging like I'm Eazy-E up in his prime\nAnother young nigga with a attitude\nI guess that's why the crackers kept me after school\nRoaches on the wall, roaches on the dresser\nEverybody had roaches but our roaches ain't respect us\nOn the park bench playing checkers, sipping nectar\nGirbaud jeans with hologram straps and reflectors\nWe had cookouts and dirt bikes and dice games and fistfights\nAnd fish fries and shootouts like one Sig with two rounds\nAnd one click left two down, that's four kids but one lived\nLeft three dead, but one split, that one miss, that one snitched\nThat's everyday shit, shit we used to that\nAdd it up, do the math with your stupid ass\nDon't view me as no conscious cat, this ain't no conscious rap\nFuck the conscious crap, my mac'll push your conscience back\nI do this for my culture, penny, nickels in the sofa\nMommy watching Oprah, Daddy in the kitchen whipping soda\nCook-connect named Sosa, Spanish chick Viola hit it in the chocha\nWith the Testarossa, hit Daytona, fuck the law, we soldiers\nI'm 'bout it 'bout it, nigga ain't shit sweet about me\nThe baddest bitches on the block be even speaking 'bout me\nI'm so thuggish ruggish bringing ruckus, knucking if you bucking\nYoung and thugging, bugging showing out in public, but you love it\nYou might also like\nI only got one vision, that's for kids in every color, religion\nThat listen, we gotta beat the system, stay the fuck out the prisons\nThey try to blind our vision, but we all God children, we siblings\nYou my brother, you my kin, fuck the color of your skin\n\nBack once again\nChilling in the back of the 'Lac with a pass or the gin\nFinna ask can I pass to her friend\nThen a nigga smash, I'll be damned if I ask her again\nGold slabs on the 'Lac when I spin\nThen it's back to the back of the Benz\nLean back in the back with the Henn and a crap\nWhen I tap that that, then attack, never tax, never that that\nMax on the ends, spend ends, I remember way back when\nA mothafucka used to have to borrow cash from my friends\nFriends, just to put a snack up in the fridge\nWhen I'm on, I swear to God to pay you back\nNow the kids all look up to me\nThem bitches wanna fuck with me\nMy idols say what's up to me\nFrom ugly to comfortably, suddenly\nIt all changed man, it was just like yesterday\nTimes was so ugly and now I'm comfortable\nI just only can thank God, suddenly\nEverything changed before my eyes by my surprise\nA$AP"}
{"text":"Adjust to pain\nIt hurt too bad to say, to say you left me, left me\nFuckin' with the wrong man\n(Left me) Said she fuckin\u2019 with the wrong man\nEver since she left me\n\nI guess you fell into the wrong hands, yeah\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nAnd now you're F-in' with the wrong man, man\nAh-ah-ah-ah-ah\n\nYou took some time away from me (Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\n(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\nI see you made your mind (Ooh, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah)\nJust read the signs, it\u2019s clear to see (Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\n(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\nI'm tryna make you mine (Ooh, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah)\n'Cause love is blind, you're hurt, it's fine (Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\n(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)\nTo heal, it takes some time (Ooh, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah)\n\nI guess you fell into the wrong hands, yeah\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nAnd now you're F-in' with the wrong man, man\nAh-ah-ah-ah-ah\nYou might also like\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nOoh, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nOoh, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah\n\nTokyo trips, shoppin' sprees full of gifts\nI remember we would dream about kids\nTryna get that V with that crib\nBack when you used to be\u2019s with that Crip\nGotta give a little to get\nA little bit in return now, tables turn now\nAnd you heard \u2019bout me and my bitch\nI'm just tryna chill\n\u2019Cause lately I've been thinkin' 'bout you and rebuildin\u2019\nWalking 'round like you lost feelings\nI can tell he not fulfilling\nYou in love with me still\nThey say only if looks could kill, for real\nYou walk around town with that guy\nWhen you pass by (Ah-ah)\nI just laugh like (Ah-ah)\nI guess you fell into the wrong hands, yeah\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nAnd now you're F-in' with the wrong man, man\nAh-ah-ah-ah-ah\n\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nOoh, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nOoh, ah-ah-ah-ah-ah"}
{"text":"\nP.O\nOne time for A$AP Yams\nLet's go\n\nWhat's this I see? Niggas tryna act like G's\nGot A$AP, got Fergy with me\nIt's a new day, no Black Eyed Peas\nThat's that shit, mhm, mhm, yeah, that's that shit\n(You ain't got no Flacko in your Serato?)\nMothafucka better blast that shit\nNiggas drink quarts of the Clicquot\nBitches sniff raw of the kilos\nFlacko makes sales of the perico\nShe knows, went to ATL for my C-Note\n'Member, I ain't ever have no home\nNow I got a penthouse and a beach home\nBack when I was rockin' least (2 Chainz!!!)\nI was trappin' off at least like three phones\nMe and Yams made the plan\nThen I paid myself and I gave myself advance\nWay before I became myself\nI'd like to thank myself because I made myself the man\nIt's like lately I ain't myself\nI'd rather hang myself before I play myself\nI tell her, \"throw on the dress with the pinstripes\"\nKnow the one that fit the booty all skin tight, that's right\nYeah, you that shit, mhm, mhm, yeah, move that shit\nFrontin' like you did it for the fellas\nGet all the bitches jealous when you do that shit\nBut my neck is gold, the rest is froze\nSex and hoes, best of both, girls and girls, perpetual\nSippin' slow, Texas throwed, comma, I'm about decimals\nChill and get faded, I'm surprised that we made it\nYoung niggas know the sky's the limit\nAll I ever wanna do is chill and get shaded\nChill and get faded, shit, I'm surprised that we made it\nNowadays stress overrated\nAll I ever wanna do is chill and get shaded\nYou might also like\nI wanna see you take it all off\nAnd she just wanna make it harder\nAnd we just end up takin' longer\nCan't impress with them diamonds though, them diamonds\n\nTalkin' about M's\nTalkin' bout M's, nigga, M's\nMake 'em talk about, make 'em talk about M's\nNigga, talkin' bout M's\nNigga, talkin' bout M's\nNigga, talkin' bout M's\nMake 'em talk about, talkin' bout M's, nigga\nTalkin' bout M's\n\nIt's like lately all I ever seem to think about is M's, nigga\nTalkin' 'bout M's\nSee the same thing all up in my bank account\nM's, nigga, talkin' 'bout M's\nAnd my YouTube account say the same amount\nM's, nigga, talkin' 'bout M's\n\nMoney talk and dogs bark\nI got a pocket full of stones in my stonewashed\nLambo, brand new Lambo\nWith tiger stripes on it call that bitch a golf cart\nI'm outchea, I'm so outchea, I swear niggas have no idea\nI swear niggas better wear riot gear\nCause I appear and pow loud and clear give 'em diarrhea, oh\nI re-up tonight, I'ma be up tonight, cookin' a key up tonight\nNiggas de-up I slide to the right, throw a three up in time\nPut a B up, let's fight, don't get beat up tonight\nFeet up in my European, I ride with me heater inside\nKill you and your dog then go put on a shirt that say PETA for life\nLike you sneeze you on tight, you got beef I got white\nYou got beef I got white, I got green, I got white\nI got pink, I got pints, I got lean, I got ice\nI got needles and pipes, I got clean, I got right\nI got mean, I got nice, that's that Tina and Ike\nI don't lean on her price, I don't cheat on her price\nTry to cheat on the dice, you get beat on the spot\nI get keys on the spot and I keep it on lock\nAnd I keep it up safe, what you keep in your safe?\nS'what I spent on my watch and I wave it like Ma$e\nBout to redo the face, get a see-through AK\nI eat seafood and steak\nBut girl, I'ma treat you like cake til I get a sweet tooth tooth ache\nBut wait let's talk about M's, not about them\nI love my BM's, I love my YM ain't no more CM\nLet's pluck out the stems, let's fuck like a nymph\nShe walk out, she limp, it's dark and we dim, yeah\nWe dem niggas, handcuffing him niggas back up and skim niggas\nSee that we strapped up we cap up your brim nigga\nFill my cup up to the rim nigga, Tunechi"}
{"text":"Uh, goddamn\nHow real is this?\nI know them Harlem\nNiggas gon' be feelin' this\nEast Coast nigga (Uh)\nBut how trill is this?\nStill don't give a shit\nMy ignorance is still a bliss\nUh, goddamn\nHow real is this?\nI know them Harlem\nNiggas gon' be feelin' this\nEast Coast nigga (Uh)\nBut how trill is this?\nStill don't give a shit\nMy ignorance is still a bliss (Uh)\n\nStone-cold love\nRose gold slugs\nI could afford it\nI imported stone-cold drugs\nStone cold\nRolling stone, I'm a stoned nigga\nWrite it on my tombstone\nI was stoned, nigga\nDon't remember me\nAs a wannabe New Orleans nigga\nSlash lean sippin'\nTennessee nigga, nah\nInfluenced by Houston\nHear it in my music (Yeah)\nA trill nigga to the truest\nShow you how to do this\nMy all gold grills\nGive her cold chills\nSaid she got a coke feel\n'Cause I'm so trill\nTwo dope boy\nScale, but I sold pills\nNo deal\nPut her on her feet, toenails\nThem vampires, them bloodsuckers\nThem thirsty killers\nWe 'bout it, 'bout it\nWe rowdy, rowdy, that Percy Miller\nFor really real, we chilly chill\nDon't sport Chinchilla\nMy bounty hunter's\nA bounty killer, I'm 'bout my skrilla\nGimme the title then gimme the cash\nFold it then bag it then move to the trap\nFollow my stash, stealing my swag\nNiggas is wickity-wickity-wack\nLike Kriss Kross, her lip gloss\nSlip-ons get slipped off\nMy bitch boss, Cristal\nWe smokin' that, thinkin' we're burnin' the hash\nPuff it and pass, makin' it last\nWalk in my shoes and then cross in my path\nGame was for grabs, makin' 'em crash\nSnuck it and snatched it, ain't givin' it back\nFuck the money, fuck the fame\nThis is real life\nAn insight to my\nTrill life, Clams\nYou might also like\nUh, goddamn\nHow real is this?\nI know the whole\nWorld gon' be feeling this\nEast Coast nigga\nBoy, how trill is this?\nStill don't give a shit\nMy ignorance is still a bliss\nUh, goddamn\nHow real is this?\nI know the whole\nWorld gon' be feelin' this\nUh, goddamn\nHow real is this?\nI know the whole\nWorld gon' be feelin' this\nUh, goddamn\nHow real is this?\nI know the whole\nWorld gon' be feelin' this\nUh, goddamn\nHow real is this?\nI know the whole\nWorld gon' be feelin' this"}
{"text":"So recognize that shit\nYou better fuckin' recognize that fuckin' name right now...\nI recognize, I recognize\nA$AP\nRecognize that shit, A$AP\nA$... fucking $AP\nI recognize\nYou don't put no fuckin' fear in my heart\n\nThese other niggas so-so, they open off my mojo\nSpanish Sophie with a half a kilo by her cho-cho\nBlow it out your culo, who got dough on the smoke, though?\nMy partner had cinco, now we blowin' on that ocho\nBozos love my rose gold, purple got me slow-mo'\nStuntin' like I'm Dorothy but my rubies in my gold, though\nWhat you think this four for, these niggas must be loco\nSteppin' on these bricks and for your fix so call me Toto\nFollow me, follow me, follow me now\n\nNow I'ma come through getting down\nGot a new Cadillac with a diamond in the back\nGot a bitch, and she bad with about a hundred tats\nGot my goons on deck, and we got a hundred straps\nWhat you know about that, got me swaggin' to the max\nEverybody know we got the shit and baggages to match\nBetter come correct, fuck what the basis is\nGold grills like a set of new braces is\nYou might also like\nWhy they comment on my set, though?\nThey lookin' cause my neck gold\nAnd I let that TEC show (Hu-huh-huh), hear that echo?\nLet go, that medal, .38 special, to your threshold\nNiggas actin' petro, like they sexual was metro\nBunch of bad bitches fuckin' out on tour\nLike it through the back door, give it to her raw\nShimmy Shimmy Ya: ODB, ODB\nFuckin' other niggas' broads: OPP, OPP\n\nComin' down stuntin' like a bitch, bitches on my dick\nOn the set and they like the nicotine to cigarette\nHow they fiending for a nigga, got these hoes up on my sack\nGot my niggas in the back, couple bitches in the back\nA$AP, where it's at, where that weed? How that cake?\nBitches all up in my face, back back, give me space\n'Cause you know how we do it, niggas scream A$AP\nAyy, Clams nigga, tell me where that bass at?\n\nBass, uhh! Bass, uhh! Bass, uhh! Bass, uhh!\nBass, uhh! Bass, uhh! Bass, uhh!\nBass, bass, bass, bass, bass\nBass, bass, bass, bass\nYeah, Clams Casino, nigga, A$AP\nWhere that bass? Where that bass, Clams?\nHarlem, yeah, where that bass? Trill shit\nTrill shit from a trill nigga, all my purple people\nI be that pretty mothafucka' (Swag)\nBass, bass!"}
{"text":"Ayy, I have a message from the Most High\nThat says: \"This negra kept his soul from the Devil.\"\nIt's true, I guess I mean, wait a minute now\nIs your people really that God damn ign'ant? Really? Really?\n\nChurch bells and choir sounds, tell 'em, \"Quiet down\"\nBow your head, the Most High's around cocktails\nGuys and gals miss me, ties and gowns happen now\nMy entire sound is how you tryna sound? Stop it now\nThey ask me why I don't go to church no more\n'Cause church is the new club and wine is the new bub\nAnd lies is the new drugs, my sister the next stripper\nMy brother the next victim, my usher the next tricker\nSatan givin' out deals, finna own these rappers\nThe game is full of slaves and they mostly rappers\nYou sold your soul first, then your homies after\nLet's show these stupid field niggas they could own they masters\nHoly smokes, I think my pastor was the only folk\nTo own the Rollie, Ghost and Rolls Royces with no Holy Ghost\nAnd get your shit prepared, face your fears, all you niggas scared\nSay your prayers, pray you fit upstairs, it's our only hope\nChurch bells and choir sounds, tell 'em, \"Quiet down\"\nBow your head, the Most High's around, Lord\n(These things are not right, these things is not right) Lord\n(Hell, nobody's ever defined) Lord\nThe pastor had a thing for designer glasses\nYeah, I'm talkin' fancy plates and diamond glasses\nThe ushers keep skimmin' the collection baskets\nAnd they tryna dine us with some damn wine and crackers\nWho's more important than your Lord and Savior?\nWon't let the pearly gates up in this\nProbably due to all your poor behavior\nMy mental got a couple tips to save you\nJust be sure to count it as my only favor, thank me later, uh\nEvery night I stayed up sayin' prayer, made me greater, uh\nLet's savior chasin' green for collard greens and baked potatoes\nOn the table, pray for cable, hit the label, now we major high\nI got my own relationship with God, Lord\nYou might also like\nHoly Ghost, I'm on my knees, I'm on my knees\nHoly Ghost, you're all I need, you're all I need\nHoly Ghost, I'm on my knees, I'm on my knees\nHoly Ghost, you're all I need, you're all I need\nHoly Ghost, I'm on my knees, I'm on my knees"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsTrilla Lyrics\nOne, two, umm\nBuckle my, umm (Yeah)\n\nPass the- pass the- pass the mothafuckin' Swisher, pour some mothafuckin' liquor\nFor my mothafuckin' niggas who ain't wit us, keep it trilla'\nMy gold teeth, my french braids, getting throwed since 10th grade\nWealth is in the mind, not the pocket, if that's the case, then I been paid\nHerringbone chain, my gold frames, my Cartiers, you small change\nYou bitch made, I'm old school, like gem stars and switchblades\nI spit game, I get paid, a pimp game\nI be, I be that pretty muthafucka, A$AP is just my nickname\nI'm comin' down when I'm tippin' on them 4' (Yeah)s\nCause we shittin' on these, shittin' on these niggas and these hoes\nCause that purp shit I sip up, your bitch chose, you slipped up\nI get-get my dick licked, I'm draped out, drip-dripped up\nTop of the top of the line, all on my grind, purple be easin' my mind\nWe runnin', we runnin', we gunnin', we gunnin', we're gonna hit one at a time, time\nThem bad bitches blow kisses by my earlobe\nA weirdo but I'm real though\n\nYeah, um\nAll these boppers wanna bop 'em, niggas wanna jock 'em\nNot a red light or a city cop that can stop 'em\nGoing broke is not an option, always on that cash flow\nShe used to call me asshole, now she drop that ass low\nFuck it man I'm past dope, sour diesel slash coke\nA$AP we the last hope, fuck it this my fast flow\nI slow it down I pick it up, blue jeans I rip 'em up\nThat's swag bitch, you mad bitch, see you in my past bitch\nI'm headed to the future, Twelvyy ain't no loser\nMixing up that syrup, call it Punky Brewster\nI'm slurring wussup, don't tell me to shut up\nI ain't tryna start shit, but man I'm really fucked up\nI lucked up, I see it as a come up (Yeah)\nI'm on my job man, I see you when the sun's up (Yeah)\nHuh, young niggas run everything\nA$AP to the top and these bitches love everything\nYou might also like\nUh, god bless America, my flow is scarier\nStyle wild like my nigga Common after Erykah (Damn)\nYour bitch, I'm in bed with her, head so good (Yeah)\nMake a nigga feel good to the point I wanna marry her (Uh)\nBut I be on my pimping shit, check out my limp and shit (Yeah, uh)\nI be getting money, getting money, can you dig it, bitch? (Uh)\nHoes get on my pimping ship all aboard, all aboard (Uh)\nEast coast mothafuckas making all the noise, all the noise\nI know you niggas heard of us, Raf Simon murderers (Uh, uh)\nFashion killa' word to Bigga Bars, I never heard of ya\nStill sipping candy painted whips is what I'm sitting in\nKitchen chemist whipping up that shit that get these bitches in\nNew York Nasty flow, that's a little bit of crack mixed in with a fifth of Hen\nBusinessman, middle finger to your fucking business, man\nGreat adventure shit, rollercoasting take a flick of this\nMotion picture shit, bitch I grind like a skater do\nAlways strive and prosper, Rock what level we gon' take it to?"}
{"text":"Uh, my mic sounds nice, check one (Woo!)\nMy mic sounds nice, check two (Uh-huh, yeah-yeah)\nTesting, one-two, one-two, let's go (Uh-huh, yeah-yeah)\n(Uh, woo!) Let's go\n(Uh, uh, yeah-yeah) Let's go\nMy mic sounds nice, check one (Yeah, yeah)\nMy mic sounds nice, check two (Yeah, testing, testing, woo!)\n\nStoned-stoned when I'm in my zoney-zone\nSmokin' on the homegrown, feeling like I'm all alone\nUsed to go to Kingdome, Rucker Park with Tony Tone (Harlem!)\nListenin' to Bone Bone, feelins in my bone bone\n\nI can tell it\nI could give a fuck about a list, ya heard? (Ya heard?)\nI could give a fuck about a diss, ya heard? (Ya heard?)\nI could give a fuck about your clique, ya heard? (Ya heard?)\nShut the fuck up 'fore I rock your bitch, ya heard? Uh\nShut the fuck up!\n\nMy mama named me, my papa gave me cock to take a piss with\nTo fuck ya bitch with, life is different for me, for instance\nThe type of niggas spray his kids in some chicks\nHe wouldn't raise his kids with, that type of twisted sick shit\nCome on, man\nYou might also like\nWhat you say, nigga? Time's out\nLet's start over with this conversation\nYou sound super crazy right now\nAnd I got my two kids listenin'? (I'm just playing)\nYou said what? (I said I'm just-)\nUh-uh, nigga, you got me fucked up\nShut the fuck up!\n\nI could give a fuck about a list, ya heard? (Ya heard?)\nI could give a fuck about a diss, ya heard? (Ya heard?)\nI could give a fuck about your clique, ya heard? (Ya heard?)\nShut the fuck up 'fore I rock your bitch, ya heard?\nShut the fuck up!\n\nPeople really think I'm an asshole, I say anything (C'mon)\nTruthfully, I just say what I really think\nLike I'm too fresh, man, to be an under-class-man (Too fresh)\nWould say, \"Suck my dick\"\u2014but that's sexual harassment (Take that, let's go!)\nFuck around and really come through in a murse on ya (Come on)\nWho else you know design ya stage and do your merch over? (Come on)\nAnd if you lame, do your verse over (Yeah)\nI changed the game like I'm Kurt Warner (Yeah, keep going)\nI run the game like I'm Time Warner (Yeah)\nThis ain't no Teen Choice Awards, slime slide on ya (Keep goin', yeah)\nAnd make it home for mama's fried roasting\nHad leans and Beams, tomatoes, Mercedes\nHad keys and grams, just me and Yams\n(Yeah, come on)\nAnd Stevie rest in peace\nPickin' off the last collard greens, stress up outta me\nNow we sellin' out the Coliseum for the dynasty\nTell them boys who got it locked and got the key\nYou gotta see behind the scenes or in the streets (A$AP)\n\nPeep my repertoire, Uptown esplanade\nEleanor, Druham, Nickel goin too HAM (C'mon)\nAK, Jackie Rob, East 11, 99\nLenox Ave, VLONE, Eastside, Wingstone (Yeah, Uptown)\n\nStoned-stoned when I'm in my zoney-zone\nSmokin' on the homegrown, feeling like I'm all alone (Yeah)\nUsed to go to Kingdome, Rucker Park with Tony Tone (C'mon, that's right)\nListenin' to Bone Bone, feelins in my bone bone (Yeah, yeah)\n\nI can tell it\nI could give a fuck about a list, ya heard? (Take that, yeah)\nI could give a fuck about a diss, ya heard? (Ya heard?)\nI could give a fuck about your clique, ya heard? (Take that)\nShut the fuck up 'fore I rock your bitch, ya heard? Uh (Take that, take that)\nAyo, we don't give a fuck about none of that shit\nThis is Harlem, motherfuckers (Yeah, take that, take that)\nThe fuck you think? (Uptown, nigga!)\nMob, A$AP, Same Gang, Tone Wop\nHarlem"}
{"text":"This love, this love, this love won't last forever\nThis love, this love, this love gon' own our eyes\nThis love, this love, this love won't last forever\nAnd this love, and this love, and this love gon' own our\n\nI think my cup is gettin' muddy, oh buddy\nIs this that punch, drunk, and love it, no buggy?\nEyes bloody when we out in public\nI'm hubby, she say she love me\nWasted money on syrup and honey, she think she Duffy\nThen I became a druggy, enhanced my fame and money\nAnd for your pain and sufferin', my karma's waitin' for me\nExpecting payments from me\nBut she won't get a damn thing from me\nShe just might get a band-aid from me\nYou swear the Benz and these bands ain't from me\n\nI know I'm a scumbag and now your heart broke\nThe night is still young, for you to sip and whine\n(Slow, slow, slow) Let me see you whine\n(Slow, slow, slow, oh yeah)\nI know your heart is broken (Oh), pick up your wine glass\nWith your fine ass, before you whine fast whine slow\n(Slow, slow, slow) Let me see you whine\n(Slow, slow, slow, oh yeah)\nYou might also like\nThis love, this love, this love won't last forever\nThis love, this love, this love gon' own our eyes\n\nHow the fuck am I supposed to live? (Hey)\nHow many fucks am I supposed to give? (Hey)\nHow the fuck am I supposed to feel?\nTreated like a bill, cut the check and split (Yeah, hey)\nTell your new bitch she can suck a dick (Hey)\nTell your new bitch she can suck a dick (Yeah)\nTell your new bitch she can suck a dick\nTell your new bitch she can suck a dick (Yeah)\n\nYou the one that was puttin' up with me (Hey)\nYou see how these streets corrupted me (Hey)\nI gotta conquer everything in front of me (Hey)\nEven though I broke your heart, how can you turn on me? (I know)\nWe with the shits on the real\nI do this shit on the real, I like them drinks on the real (I know)\nI fuck your bitch on the real (Woo)\nWe do this shit on the real, keep it real on the real (Uh)\nI was just keeping it G (Hey), she don't spend money at first (Hey)\nSay you're in love with me (Hey), but I know it never gon' work\nI come through, top back, hangin' out the Vert (Skrrt)\nEyes screwed up, I'm drinkin' syrup (Woo, yeah)\nI know that look that you givin' me (Yeah)\nIt's killin' you softly mentally (Hahah)\nI know I'm a scumbag and now your heart broke (I know)\nThe night is still young (Uh), for you to sip and whine\n(Slow, slow, slow) Let me see you whine\n(Slow, slow, slow, oh yeah)\nI know your heart is broken, pick up your wine glass (I know your heart)\nWith your fine ass, before you whine fast whine slow (I know your heart)\n(Slow, slow, slow) Let me see you whine\n(Slow, slow, slow, oh yeah)"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olDemons Lyrics\nI just, I just live\nI live day by day, fighting demons\n\nI smoked away my brain, I think I\u2019m going dumb\nCocaine up on my gums, I think they\u2019re going numb\nI\u2019m having stomach pains, now I\u2019m throwing up\n'Cause I\u2019m a microphone fiend, give me the bass\nGive me the beat, and let me lean, tap the vein, let it stream\nFeel the pain, young Martin Luther King, with a dream\nThat one day that my team, we can make it with this rappin'\nNow we swaggin', makin' money in Manhattan, trick, what\u2019s happenin'?\nThey try to intellect with indirection just to test you\nA rebel 'til my death, it\u2019s in my flesh, it\u2019s in my vessels\nFuck the clique you with, I\u2019m finna fuck the bitch you next to\nFuck a metrosexual, suck a dick, I\u2019m disrespectful\nYou know the kid get it, get-get sick\nSpit clip, spit quick, split shit, hit kid's women\nOh, that\u2019s your girl, huh? Well, I just hit it\nIt\u2019s A$AP nigga, live with it, swag\n\nDemons posted all around me, I can't beat 'em all alone\n(Thinkin' 'bout you, thinkin' 'bout you) Add it to your thoughts\nThese evil thoughts, they start to drown me\nLord, don't leave me all alone\n(Thinkin' 'bout you, thinkin' 'bout you) Add it to your thoughts\nDemons posted all around me, I can't beat 'em all alone\n(Thinkin' 'bout you, thinkin' 'bout you) Add it to your thoughts\nThese evil thoughts, they start to drown me\nLord, don't leave me all alone\n(Thinkin' 'bout you, thinkin' 'bout you) Add it to your thoughts\nYou might also like\nAw, yeah, aw, yeah (Let the beat chill)\nAw, yeah, aw, yeah (Let the beat chill)\nAw, yeah, aw, yeah (Let the beat chill)\nAw, yeah, aw, yeah (I'm a hipster by heart, but I can tell you how the streets feel)\n\nDemons posted all around me, I can't beat 'em all alone\n(Thinkin' 'bout you, thinkin' 'bout you) Add it to your thoughts\nThese evil thoughts, they start to drown me\nLord, don't leave me all alone\n(Thinkin' 'bout you, thinkin' 'bout you) Add it to your thoughts\nDemons posted all around me, I can't beat 'em all alone\n(Thinkin' 'bout you, thinkin' 'bout you) Add it to your thoughts\nThese evil thoughts, they start to drown me\nLord, don't leave me all alone\n(Thinkin' 'bout you, thinkin' 'bout you) Add it to your thoughts"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olBetter Things Lyrics\nUh, don't give a fuck about your man\nI'm just seein' what it's hittin' for (Bitch, I'm sayin')\nHow you frontin' on the kid though?\nYou should fuck with me, girl, you know what you need, girl\nSee I got used to livin' life up on my own, yeah\nIn search of love and for a wife to call my own, yeah\nIt's all I think about at nights when I'm alone, yeah\nSwear that I can't get no rest in California, yeah, yeah\n\nUh, uh, uh (Woo)\nSwear that life is, just a whole bunch of vices\nNiggas bitin' off of my shit, my dick\nStay up in your chick ride stick without a license\nTell her hold on like some vice grips\nMight just call her, let her ride with a baller\nLook up on her face was priceless\nWonder what my type is, well, tonight Mrs. Lightskin\nWith a light mix or a light switch, white chick\nDarkskin complexion and she righteous (Woo)\nI take a dyke chick if she like dick (Woo)\nI kissed the dyke chick and I liked it\nFucking each and every Katy Perry for the night, bitch, light this\n\nLight it, light it, puff it, puff it, pass it, pass it (Yeah)\n(Moving on to better things, I'm sure)\nBless, sit back and relax one time, clear your mind\n(Can't feed this addiction anymore)\n'Bout to send me back to my old ways, know what I'm saying?\n(Moving on to better things, I'm sure)\nYeah, I'm just, she making mistakes\n(Can't feed this addiction anymore)\nYou might also like\nUh, I've been puffing, rolling up\nCop a lot and pourin' up\nPlus my niggas know the plug\nA generation's thrown on drugs\n\nI swear that bitch Rita Ora got a big mouth\nNext time I see her might curse the bitch out\nKicked the bitch out once 'cause she bitched out, spit my kids out\nJizzed up all in her mouth and made the bitch bounce\nRide with a nigga mane, and you know\nI stay fly like the jigga mane, and it figures\n'Cause here is something you can't understand\nHow I could just kill a man, anyways\nNowadays everybody's stressed, yes\nAnimosity is better off your chest, yes\nGuess, everybody want to stay blessed, stay fresh\nTake a nigga threats, but I'm up next, take debts (Uh)\n\nLight it, light it, puff it, puff it, pass it, pass it (Yeah)\n(Moving on to better things)\nInhale, exhale, relieve your mind of stress, bless\nSmoke some one time for your boy A$AP\n(Can't feed this addiction anymore) (Uh)\nUh, yeah, uh\nI've been puffing, rolling up\nCop a lot and pourin' up\nPlus my niggas know the plug\nA generation's thrown on drugs"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsPretty Flacko Lyrics\nI keep two killas with me\nKeep two bitches with me\nTwo guns with me\nY'all know who I be, I be that pretty motherfucker, man\nMan this the birth of Pretty Flacko, nigga\nI mean I be that Harlem, nigga\nI be that jiggy nigga, get with me, bitch\nLike, tell them hoes suck a dick\nSwag, swag 'cause I'm swagging on them\nAnd I continue talking my shit\n\nSkinny nigga, Pretty Flacko, nigga grippin' that chopper\nParty like a rocker, but my niggas wilder than Flocka\nWhip game proper cause I spit to all of these boppas\nI'm big-bodied partner and you niggas talkin' that tonka\nI'm as famous as Mozart, hoes lark on my go kart\nGet niggas for the Goyard, it cost too much so we bogart\nWe take yours, nigga, Deebo, hoes love that my teeth gold\nMy hair wild, my gold fangs, my eyes red, that's beast mode\nNew hoes, I keep those, bad bitch by the week, oh\nIt's on, it's on to the next ho, I pray to God that she deep throat\nI ain't goin' back to bein' broke, pussy, money and free clothes\nCan't forget 'bout the weed smoke, niggas stick to the G code\nComin' down, gettin' throwed, bitches all up in my zone\nThirty-five, forty-four, niggas know we get the show\nPusherman with the kilos, iPhone full of freak hoes\nFuck you mean we ain't wild? We crowd surf at the pre-shows\nShe fuckin' Pretty Flacko, she want that Pretty Flacko\nIt's beef, I'm splittin' your taco, you niggas out of your nachos\nCause bad bitches, man, I got those\nAnd the rose Lexes, man, I rock those\nAnd I pop hoes, got a drop Rolls\nWith a snot nose, in my condo\nYou might also like\nIf you a trill nigga get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill nigga get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill bitch get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill bitch get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill nigga get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill nigga get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill bitch get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill bitch get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill nigga get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill nigga get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill bitch get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill bitch get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill nigga get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill nigga get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill bitch get your motherfuckin' hands up\nIf you a trill bitch get your motherfuckin' hands up\n\nShe fuckin' Pretty Flacko, she want that Pretty Flacko\nShe fuckin' Pretty Flacko, she want that Pretty Flacko\nShe fuckin' Pretty Flacko, she want that Pretty Flacko\nShe fuckin' Pretty Flacko, she want that Pretty Flacko\n\nYeah man, that's that motherfucking trill shit that I be talking 'bout\nBandanna tied like 2Pac to the side, nigga\nIt's that A$AP life\nIt's that trill wave right here, man\nGet your surfboards ready, man\nThat's that Pretty Flacko, nigga\nPr-pr-pretty Flacko\nPr-pr-pre-pretty Flacko\nPr-pr-pretty Flacko\nPr-pr-pre-pretty Flacko\nPr-pr-pretty Flacko\nPr-pr-pre-pretty Flacko\nPr-pr-pretty Flacko\nPr-pr-pre-pretty Flacko\nPr-pr-pretty Flacko"}
{"text":"Swingin' burning tires leave a third degree\nAnd I heard there's bouncin' niggas hatin' wanna murder me\nThey gon' have to take me straight to Satan 'cause I'm blessin' this\nI feel distressed, then feel no stress, I built this trust\nThey won't come murder me, Hercules\n\nMama warned me pop was on me as a shorty\n(Shut the fuck up!)\nGet-gettin' guap before when I was fourteen\nGlock was forty kick-kick\nBox ya jaw for plottin' on me hot bologna grits with\nProblems copper hoppin' on me cheese from government-ment (What that mean?)\nPrada on me, choppers on me, croc' on Mauri kicks-kicks (Word)\nGod was for me, locks was on me\nBlew up ever since then (Okay, okay)\nGrew up ever since then, screwed up ever since then\nTwo cups ever since then (Kill 'em Flacko)\nNah, big homie, took my time but now, big homie\nHomies outta line, big homie\nMoney outta pocket, homie, all these niggas pockets, homie\nChopper let 'em live, I was only six, when I crept up in the crib\nFound a Sig, what I did, what I did\nCock it homie, now it's in my p-pocket homie\nI-I got r-rocket on me, dare you nigga, tr-try me, homie\nFor the love of spread, Mommas butter bread\nMan, I prolly should be dead, was it 'cause of what I said?\nWhat I-\nYou might also like\nDesi, FN, Ruger, Draco\nEuros, pounds and dollars, pesos\nMoney, hoes and power, Draco\nViolence, rifle, shotguns, Draco\n\"Now can't a nigga see I ain't got no time for games\nI'm on this Hennessey and I'm quick to shoot dat thang\nBut fuck that, one of my young niggas'll take the charge\nI'm stackin' loot, muthafuck lookin' behind some bars\"\n\nRocky, Rocky\nHold on, one second, bro\nHa, Rocky, it's Hector, bro\nRocky this is Hector, bro\nWe gotta hold on, one second, bro\nThere's an issue goin' on back here\n\nGrandma was a Catholic (Woo), and mama was a Christian\nMy papa turned to Muslim when he spent some time in prison \n(No cappin')\nNo Jehovah Witnesses where I'm from, kinda different (Woo)\nThey don't leave no witnesses so folks just mind they business\nThese days I just practice all the good from all religion\nSo plead the fifth amendment or you're gonna be the victim\nSo get up off my YKK, the President a a-hole (Fuck off)\nPrayin' for a JFK, all we got was KKK\nAKA AK that you target\nNot from Target but from Walmart, then it's a-ok\nFuck them boys no KY with this SK leave them DOA\nAR in the ER it's the state of mind of every state\nSay your grace you better pray\nGuns with the butter, guns for my brother\nCame from the gutter, cocaine in the buttocks\nRazor box cutter, blade under gumma\nGang in the Hummer, skate wit' your mother\nThe fact of the matter she blow out the frizzame\nI keep me some powder so I'm gettin' brizzain\nThe fact of the matter she blow out the frizzame\nI keep me some powder so I'm gettin' brizzain\nThe fact of the matter she blow out the frizzame\nI keep me some powder so I'm gettin' brizzain\nThe fact of the matter she blow out the frizzame\nI keep me some powder so I'm gettin' brizzain\n\nWhat's really butter?\nThe gun or the butter?\nYou hear me?\nYou understand what I'm sayin'?\nWhat's really butter?\nWhat's really butter?\nWhat's really butter?\nGuns, you can get that butter all day"}
{"text":"94 Contributors\u200br - Cali Lyrics\nOh, yeah\nOh, yeah\nOh, yeah\nOh, wooh!\n\nNiggas pistol-poppin' like it's 1999\nI was nine, maybe ten, then again, never mind\nPress rewind, back in time\nBefore rappers droppin' dimes\nTrap or die, choppin' pies\nWith clich\u00e9s all in they rhymes\n\nNow it's Gucci, Prada and anything designer\nMoney, power, the whole enchilada\nCommas, dollas, the greens and the guava (oh)\nThey serve you to your flocka\nIf you disrespect that blocka, blocka\n\nChoppas on eavesdroppers\nFuck these choppas, I\u2019m about it\nGrindin' like 2Pac or Biggie Poppa\nYeah, you outer, but I\u2019m hotter\nCar jackin', pistol-packin'\nMothafuckin' choppers clappin'\nMetal jacket, automatic magazines, head-on traffic\nFenders smashin', windows crashin'\nPants saggin', fuck your fashion\nYeah, a nigga run Manhattan\nBack in Cali's where it happen\nYou might also like\nThey fit Gucci, Escada and anything designer\nGroupies, poppers, they all gonna swallow\nIt was probably the robbers\nThe goons and the goblins (oh)\nThey hatin' a lot, medulla oblongata\n\nFrom New York to San Andreas\nAnd all around the world\nGoing back to Cali\nGoing back to Cali\nNew York to San Andreas\nI'm screaming, \"Fuck the world!\"\nI'm going back to Cali\nGoing back to Cali (Uh)\n\nNigga, what\u2019s brackin'? I\u2019m really out here boolin' on the West Side, you know what I\u2019m sayin'?\nWest, you know what I mean?\nYeah, just seen a Camino, know what I mean?\nJust bein' careful out here\nLookin' out for the enemies\nCuz, you already know how we get down, cuz\nFuck killin' these, cuz, I\u2019m on the set, cuz\nWe killin' everything, anything movin'\nShit, I\u2019m shootin' at niggas on the sight, cuz\nYou already know, yeah\nI\u2019ve caught you slippin', y'all can be back, nigga\nHe ain\u2019t copped that, fuck that, Blood\nNiggas slippin' on the cuz, cuz\nI had to make that happen with this solo\nMaserati, like Atari\nWith no car keys, push to start it\nNew Bugatti, two Bugattis\nTestarossa, blue Ferrari\nLamborghini, system bumpin'\nMe no worried; Rastafari\nThis the hardest, supersonic\nSystematic, too retarded\nNew Versace, new apartment\nBigger closet, newer carpet\nHit departments, cooler garments\nSet my goal up, new accomplish\nShootin' targets, you the target\nMovin' targets, new accomplice\nKilled the game and still regardless\nBeat the charges, do the honors"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsRidin\u2019 Lyrics\n\nI wanna be the object of your affection\nGive me all your time, touch, money and attention\nPick me up after school, you can be my baby\nMaybe we could go somewhere, get a little crazy\nHe's rich and I'm wishin', um, he could be my Mister Yum\nDelicious to the maximum, chew him up like bubble gum\nI'm his pretty party favor, he says I'm his favorite flavor\n\nUh, uh, catch me ridin' like a bitch\nGot the six forty-five, catch me ridin' with my bitch\nUh, long hair, Lana, that's my bitch\nUh, You can tell by the swagger and the lips, uh\nUh, uh, catch me ridin' like a bitch\nGot the six forty-five, catch me ridin' with my bitch\nUh, long hair, Lana, that's my bitch\nUh, You can tell by the swagger and the lips, uh\n\nYou say that I am flawless, true perfection\nSo give me all your drugs, props, money and connections\nPick me up after school, actin' kinda shady\nYou the coolest kid in town, I'm your little lady\nHe's sick and I'm kissin' him, magical musician, how I'm\nDrivin' at the cinema, lovin' him and lickin' him\nHe's my lovely life saver\nDoesn't mind my bad behavior\nYou might also like\nUh, uh, catch me ridin' like a bitch\nGot the six forty-five, catch me ridin' with my bitch\nUh, long hair, Lana, that's my bitch\nUh, You can tell by the swagger and the lips, uh\nUh, uh, catch me ridin' like a bitch\nGot the six forty-five, catch me ridin' with my bitch\nUh, long hair, Lana, that's my bitch\nUh, You can tell by the swagger and the lips, uh\n\nSwervin', swervin', gettin' all them dimes\nTell her I be doin', I be swaggin' to my prime\nThis ain't all the time, it happens all the time\nThat's a big contradiction, get your money on your mind\nWhat, what, tell her I be on a chase\nChasin' for that paper and you see me on that race\nWhat, what, tell her I be goin' first\nI be gon' first and they put me in a hearse, oh\nOne big room, full of bad bitches, no\nOne big room and it's full of mad bitches\nLana, Lana, tell them what it is\nTell 'em that you doin' it, you mean to do it big\nI said, one big room, full of bad bitches, no it's\nOne big room and it's full of mad bitches, I said\nLana, Lana, tell them what it is\nTell 'em when you do it that you only do it big\nUh, uh, catch me ridin' like a bitch\nGot the six forty-five, catch me ridin' with my bitch\nUh, long hair, Lana, that's my bitch\nUh, You can tell by the swagger and the lips, uh\nUh, uh, catch me ridin' like a bitch\nGot the six forty-five, catch me ridin' with my bitch\nUh, long hair, Lana, that's my bitch\nUh, You can tell by the swagger and the lips, uh"}
{"text":"I ain't scared, uh\nReal niggas put the clip in and let it go, uh\nReal niggas wanna run real, uh\n\nReal (Buckshot)\nReal niggas from the roll (Ends with a buckshot)\nReal niggas from the end\nReal niggas from the home (Buckshot)\nHomeboy, you ain't know (Ends with a buckshot)\nHad a bitch suckin' on a lollipop at the bus stop\nGreen Glock, red Glock (Buckshot)\nThey ain't really ready for me when I (Buckshot)\nThey ain't really ready for me when I (Buckshot)\nWhat the blood clot?\nNiggas know not what, nigga, whatnot, yeah\nFrom the fort, Fort Knox, this ain't Fortnite, nigga\nGet your shit rocked, nigga\nBuckshots, uh, uh (Buckshot)\nAnd my picture's like a mugshot (Uh)\nAnd all my bitches got butt shots (Hahaha, uh, ha)\n\nUh, uh, yeah, buckshots, yeah, yeah\nLeft this man dead in the damn lot, yeah, uh, yeah\nIn the kitchen pourin' up the Wock'\nYeah, yeah, pour it on the fuckin' clock (Wrist)\nYeah, buckshots\nEverybody in this bitch got a mugshot (Hold up, hold up)\nNigga, push up, now we on your block (Yeah)\nBitch, I'm off the bean and the damn Wock' (Hold up, hold up)\nYou might also like\nGot a clip and it's full (Buckshot)\nLeave a motherfucker in the (Ends with a buckshot)\nMan, I was grown up since a young blood (Buckshot)\nNow I'm bustin' off shots (Ends with a buckshot)\nBack in my younger days, all I want was braids\nAll my mama want from me was grades (Buckshot)\nThey ain't really ready for me when I (Buckshot)\nOne stop, nigga, get some drugs and a damn Glock (Hold up, hold up)\n\nUh, got them bullets aimin' at your head top\nAK-47, try to run up, bet we send shots (Pew-pew)\nWalkin' with my chains out on a opp block\nI'm with Drippy Drew (Yeah)\nDon't try run up, you get dropped off (Dropped, woah)\nOh, yeah, huh, pull up flexin' with the top down, uh (With the top down, yeah)\nI'm with gang with some baddies on that yacht now, uh, yeah (On a yacht now, yeah)\nBought a brand new Mulsanne, Gucci-d down now, huh (Gucci-d down now, yeah)\nNigga, you ain't in my lane, you a clown now, yeah\nKeep the semi tucked, nigga, what you want now? Yeah (What you want? Yeah, yeah)\nBought a brand new gun, it's gon' catch you up, oh yeah (Catch you up, yeah, yeah)\nGot Raf Simons on my feet, I stay feet up, oh yeah (I stay feet up, yeah)\nWatch me pull up to the scene, nigga T'd up, oh yeah\n\nBuckshot\nBuckshot\nBuckshot\nEnds with a buckshot"}
{"text":"Bitch motherfuckers trying to fake it trill\nSneak diss you just to make a bill\nNow the world won't take you serious\nWhen I met you, you was painting nails\nLeave a motherfucker layin' still\nB\u2014 Bang him with the stainless steel\n'Cause I'm making the order\nLaugh at the altar, pullin' a Lord up\nDon't get someone sawed up\nYour brain in the sawdust, niggas is washed up\nI bang out in Florida\nShoot in Miami, goons out in Georgia\nBeen to New Orleans\nBut still a New Yorker, nigga the talk of\nTown, nigga, we bossed up\nBounce, but when you talk to the Lord\nOf course you're forced to\nBow down like a motherfuckin' peasant\nStill that pretty motherfucker\nAnd you know Harlem's what I'm reppin', nigga\n\nFuck them other niggas 'cause I'm down for my niggas\nFuck them other niggas 'cause I'm down for my niggas\nFuck them other niggas, I'll ride for my niggas\nI'll die for my niggas, man, fuck them other niggas\nYou might also like\nLord, please talk to me, Lord\nI am here for you, Lord\n\nGettin' faded, hair gettin' braided, Sophie sniffed a line of yay\nPlayin' spades, bumpin' Jimi Hendrix \"Purple Haze\"\nA 40 to the face, call my homies from around the way\nGive me that pussy, I'll be on my way\nBut grab the Jimmy so the bitch don't get no cash up out me\nPretty nigga, I'm a jiggy nigga, ask about me\nFuck niggas talkin' trash about me\nBut you know I tote a gauge, it can make any problem go away\nTalkin' Jay, talkin' Ye, that mean you niggas talkin' cray\nRazor blade across your face, I fix my face then walk away\nI guess then there's nothin' more to say\nTrill nigga to the death, whether Hell or the pearly gates\nI think back to my early days\nWhippin' and pinchin' that broad dough\nIt's a bit different now, switchin' and flippin' that raw flow\nSubstance get me higher, reefer and some fire\nThe devil is a liar, biased preachers shall retire\nJesus walked on water, I'm preachin' to the choir\nLong live A$AP, now bow to your Messiah, bitch\n\nLet the Lords toast with the Lords\nToast to the Lords\nWhen come gods, come Lords\nLords\nLords\nLords!\nOh, Lord!\nToast to the Lords!\nAs we live this day, please pray for us\nWhen comes the saints, comes the evils\nBrings the Lords"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsKeep It G Lyrics\nShit, nigga\nFuck the bullshit, my nigga (Uh)\nY'all niggas started this shit, A$AP started it, y'all finish it (Uh-huh)\nDon't let these motherfuckin' devils come in between y'all (Uh-huh)\nAnd start tryna separate shit\nMake this shit they shit or something that it's not (Uh-huh)\nY'all niggas got the motherfuckin' plan (Yeah)\nBuild the motherfuckin' plan\nKeep the team straight and keep that shit G (Yeah)\nDon't let these motherfuckers come in between y'all\nY'all got the power, keep the power in y'all motherfuckin' hands\nFuck these niggas man, go get it (A$AP, niggas)\nYa feel me? (Uh) Keep it G\n\nThis is music for the villains, sophisticated children\nA$AP in the house, now we're finna run the building\nWorking never chilling 'til I get a million\nTo the ceiling, now my niggas gunning for a billion\nThey ask me how I'm living, I say I'm gold grilling\nNiggas acting different, mothafuck' a friendship\nThese bitches is persistent, talking 'bout I'm distant\nLost my mind a long time ago to find it, need forensics\nFor instance, I get-get my dick licked\nRed bone, complexion like a piglet, kiss-kiss\nFuck Ace, we sip Cris, afford it cause I'm getting it\nDrip-drip, the thought of it is ignorant, isn't it? (Hahahah)\nI'm ticklish, stunting is my business\nSwagging on you hoes and I'm shitting on you niglets\nSo little homie, peep game\nCause these other rappers lame and don't care to do the same\nYoung blood\nYou might also like\n(Ay, young blood) Stay true to the game\nFuck them lames, keep it motherfuckin' G\n(Ay, young blood) Nigga I'ma tell you\nLike a mothafuckin' G told me\n(Ay, young blood) Stay true to yourself\nEvery day, low-motherfuckin'-key\n(Ay, young blood) Cause at the end of the day\nFuck what you say, nigga I'ma keep it G (Uh, uh, uh)\n\nWell, let me tell you 'bout a nigga like me\nI be smoking, choking, black locing with the OE\nShe wanna take a dick ride, we slide\nStraight to the telly, shaking her jelly with my dick inside\nHit it in motion, in slow motion, hit it\nNigga she open, nigga I'm poking, split it\nWith it, get it right there in the bed\nOpen up your legs, let me beat that pussy red\nFuck what you said, I'ma still do me\nGroupies, be sucking and fucking, porno movie\nDo we have a problem in here?\nLook a nigga in the eye as I notice the fear\nI am severe, my style is hella sharp like a spear\nAll I do is sit back and think with the 40 beer\nAnd you gotta feel the funk\nWhile the bass plays loud, booming all in your damn trunk\n(Ay, young blood) Stay true to the game\nFuck them lames, keep it motherfuckin' G\n(Ay, young blood) Nigga I'ma tell you\nLike a mothafuckin' G told me\n(Ay, young blood) Stay true to yourself\nEvery day, low-motherfuckin'-key\n(Ay, young blood) Cause at the end of the day\nFuck what you say, nigga I'ma keep it G (Uh, uh, uh)"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsPussy, Money, Weed (Original) Lyrics\nAll I think about is life, nights, sippin' on Sprite\nLittle codeine, nigga get throwed right\nTwo blonde dykes wanna kiss all night\nI just pray to God that the shit go right\nLittle arguments in the fist, don't fight\nFuck a dog ho and the bitch gon' bite\nA$AP nigga, sip Cris all night\nSo them R. Kelly hoes gettin' pissed on twice\nDamn, how a young nigga get so nice\nYoung nigga cold like he sit on ice\nFuck broke, tryin' to be rich all life\nI could've been a criminal and just rolled dice\nMy nuts hangin', my top back\nHoes screamin' that Pac back\nThrowin' West side, bandana tied\nA$AP life, gotta Pac tat\nHarlem world my whole block strapped\nHoes all in my jock strap\nMy whip white but my top black\nAnd my bitch white, but my cock black\nPurple drink, got that\nTell these hoes all to twerk somethin'\nBounce on me, bitch, hurt somethin'\nTell her pop that pussy like it's worth somethin'\nSo shawty, she a stunna and daddy, he a runna\nBe that pretty mothafucka, you could call me what you wanna\n'Cause I'm in love with that ass, she in love with the cash\nSo she shakin' it fast and then makin' the stacks\nAnd I'm takin' it back and I'm takin' her back\nTo the house just to bust in her mouth and I'm kickin' her out\nYou might also like\nHow 'bout me and you, and you and her\nTake a ride to make this high\nOn and on and on and on\nOn and on and on and on\nSo I say\n\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nThat's all a nigga need (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nThat's all a nigga need (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nThat's all a nigga need (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nThat's all a nigga need (Y-Yeah)\n\nUh, smokin' out, pourin' up\nPurple drink up in my cup\nBitches actin' Hollywood\nIn my hood they wanna fuck\nPurple stuff, yellow tuss\nYellow stuff look like a bus\nShe look like the type to front\nBut most likely the type to fuck\nMake a buck, catch a nut\nThis shit be that trill livin'\nShow you how the trill get it\nNigga, Pimp C gone, but he still livin'\n'Cause I'm still sippin' and my grill's glistenin'\nGot me gold grills, shinin' and I'm still tippin'\n'Cause I'm still pimpin', but it feel different\n'Cause it's trill pimpin', nigga deal with it\nThat's all a nigga need, that's all a nigga need\nGot a bitch up on my shoulder, got another on my sleeve\nI said these bitches know my steeze\nWV's, weak in the knees\nGot them bitches movin' them keys\nRollin' the weed, duckin' them Gs\nGot a bad bitch from Belize, another overseas\nIf she don't wear no weave, then her hair down to her knees\nGot my wifeys smokin' trees, my bad bitch on that E\nBut that pussy, money, weed, shit that's all a nigga need\nHow 'bout me and you, and you and her\nTake a ride to make this high\nOn and on and on and on\nOn and on and on and on\nSo I say\n\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nThat's all a nigga need (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nThat's all a nigga need (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nThat's all a nigga need (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Y-Yeah)\nPussy, money, weed (Yeah)\nThat's all a nigga need (Y-Yeah)"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsKissin\u2019 Pink Lyrics\n\nFaded, drinking codeine and (No more)\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nGots to come faded, drinking codeine and\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nFa-Fa-Faded, drinking codeine and (No more)\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nGots to come leaning, drinking codeine and\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nFa-Fa-Faded (No more)\n\nShe's all that I need\nI'm filling your cup up, with Sprite and codeine\nShe get me so high but, I'm down on my knees\nWhat is it your desire? Your life or that lean?\nWait a minute, cause ain't shit changed, just a different day\nThis the kinda pain I just couldn't take away\nSomething like Wayne cause you couldn't feel your face\nIs you in it for the feeling or the taste? Wait a minute\nWhat's the motherfuckin' problem? Me and my niggas mob\nThrowing up gang signs, fuck a goon and a goblin\nGold grill shining, don't ask me how I got 'em\nStyrofoam cups with Jolly Ranchers at the bottom\nYou might also like\nFaded, drinking codeine and (No more)\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nGots to come faded, drinking codeine and\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nFa-Fa-Faded, drinking codeine and (No more)\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nGots to come leaning, drinking codeine and\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nFa-Fa-Faded (No more, no more, no more, no more, no more)\nMmm, wait a minute\n\nHey, and now I'm blowing hella smoke\nTalking on my cell-a-phone and I got that purple on me\nShe sipping on my styrofoam cup\nTelling me she wanna bone but I ain't got no condoms on me\nShe claiming I'm a Pimp C\nCause I'm sipping Big Moe when I'm on that Screw juice\nShe sip it 'til it's empty\nPurple on the mustache, now it's time to screw you\nAnd I wanna chop and screw you, girl\nMoving like it's turtle time, feeling like the world is mi-mine\nAnd I be on my Fergenstein\nI stay on my money grind then I'm going outta my mind\nFlying through the purple sky\nAnd I'm in a different world and you kinda look like Jasmine Guy\nAnd I'm kissing on that pink juice\nSipping on that Pimp juice (She's all that I want)\nFaded, drinking codeine and (No more)\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nGots to come faded, drinking codeine and\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nFa-Fa-Faded, drinking codeine and (No more)\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nGots to come leaning, drinking codeine and\nEvery fuckin day straight promethazinin' (She's all that I want)\nFa-Fa-Faded (No more, no more, no more, no more, no more)\nMmm, wait a minute\n\nYou can smoke that weed, you can sip that lean, get high\nShe's all that I want\nYou can smoke that weed, you can sip that lean, get high\nShe's all that I want\nYou can smoke that weed, you can sip that lean, get high\nShe's all that I want\nYou can smoke that weed, you can sip that lean, get high\nShe's all that I want, bitch"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsHouston Old Head Lyrics\nYeah, uh-uh, uh-uh\nYeah, alright, alright\nYeah\n\nSmoking, rolling reefer up, I adjust the tweakers up\n(Break it, break it down) Break it down so I can beat it up\nWhere the welcome back? Where the welcome mat? My sneakers tough\nThis is for my old head, gon' turn your speakers up\n\"Rocky, where you been?\" I been tryna make my ends meet\nSo I can cop that Bathing Ape or Jeremy Scott or 10 Deep\nBottles full of Rose, riding in the Benz jeep\nBlowing money fast, now I'm finna think I'm (Big Meech)\nI met with my old head, we sat for a while\nWe rolled a couple Swishers, we chat for a while\nI said, \"I'm just on my grind, I come to Houston all the time\"\nHe said, \"What's been goin' down in your New York state of mind?\"\nFine, you ever got days you feel like giving up\nLike how you gon' eat when this gig is up?\nWhen the chips is down and the jig is up\nBut I don't give a fuck, roll another Swisher up\nCause I just came here down South so I could get these pounds out\nAnd move my mother nice somewhere, nothin' closer than a townhouse\nAnd my beats banging, kicking harder than a roundhouse\nI spoke with my old head and this is what I found out\nYou might also like\nLife is just a bitch, a bitch is like a ho\nHoes want the money, but money come and goes\nFriends turn to foes, and foes, they be fake\nIf you listen when ya old head talkin', you'll be straight\nCause life is just a bitch, a bitch is like a ho\nHoes want the money, but money come and goes\nFriends turn to foes, and foes, they be fake\nIf you listen when ya old head talkin', you'll be straight\n\nNow my old head old age, bald head, Rogaine\nCode red codeine, nose red, cocaine\nPimpin bitches since lemon chicken, shrimp lo-mein\nGold chains, afros, platforms, Soul Train\nAnd he told me 'bout that rapping, trapping in the old days\nWhen Pac hung with Shock before that rat-tat-tat-tat, nose rings\nAnd I'm so high, I could fuck around and grow wings\nAnd we sipping on something purpler than Soul Plane\nWe sip slow, we slow swang\nWe tip fours, on chrome wings\nTold me I should head home and do my own thang\nThen I heard my phone rang, hold up, that's my old dame\nPick it up, I hit you back, miss me and I miss you back\nShe said, \"Harlem miss you too and they can't wait to get you back\nYou should come on home, leave the drugs alone and stick to rap\nJust don't come back flossin' 'cause that type of shit'll get you clapped\"\nLife is just a bitch, a bitch is like a ho\nHoes want the money, but money come and goes\nFriends turn to foes, and foes, they be fake\nIf you listen when ya old head talkin', you'll be straight\nCause life is just a bitch, a bitch is like a ho\nHoes want the money, but money come and goes\nFriends turn to foes, and foes, they be fake\nIf you listen when ya old head talkin', you'll be straight\n\nI'm riding down, coming down for my old head (Yeah, yeah)\nJunkied up, chunk the deuce for my old head (Alright)\nSitting slow, riding down with my old head (Yeah)\nBury niggas talking down on my old head (Alright, yeah)\nRiding down, riding down with my old head (Yeah)\nChunk the deuce, give it up for my old head (Yeah)\nRiding down, riding 'round with my old head (Alright, alright)\nFor my old head, for my old head\n\nLife is just a bitch, a bitch is like a ho\nHoes want the money, but money come and goes\nFriends turn to foes, and foes, they be fake\nIf you listen when ya old head talkin', you'll be straight\nCause life is just a bitch, a bitch is like a ho\nHoes want the money, but money come and goes\nFriends turn to foes, and foes, they be fake\nIf you listen when ya old head talkin', you'll be straight"}
{"text":"You know, young rich niggas\nYou know somethin', we ain't really never had no old money\nWe got a whole lotta new money though, hah\n(If Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you)\nHey\n\nRaindrop (Drip), drop-top (Drop-top)\nSmokin' on cookie in the hotbox (Cookie)\nFuckin' on your bitch, she a thot, thot (Thot)\nCookin' up dope in the crockpot (Pot)\nWe came from nothin' to somethin', nigga (Hey)\nI don't trust nobody, grip the trigger (Nobody)\nCall up the gang and they come and get ya (Gang)\nCry me a river, give you a tissue (Hey)\nMy bitch is bad and bougie (Bad)\nCookin' up dope with a Uzi (Blaow)\nMy niggas is savage, ruthless (Savage)\nWe got 30s and hundred-rounds too (Grrah)\nMy bitch is bad and bougie (Bad)\nCookin' up dope with a Uzi (Dope)\nMy niggas is savage, ruthless (Hey)\nWe got 30s and hundred-rounds too (Glah)\n\nOffset, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo\nRackaids on rackaids (Racks), got back-ends on back-ends\nI'm ridin' around in a coupe (Coupe)\nI take your bih' right from you (You)\nBitch, I'm a dog, roof (Grr)\nBeat the ho walls loose (Hey)\nHop in the frog, whoo (Skrrt)\nI tell that bih' to come comfort me (Comfort me)\nI swear these niggas is under me (Hey)\nThey hate and the devil keep jumpin' me (Jumpin' me)\nBankrolls on me keep me company (Cash)\nAyy, we do the most (Most)\nYeah, pull up in Ghosts (Woo)\nYeah, my diamond's a choker (Glah)\nHoldin' the fire with no holster (Blaow)\nRick the Ruler, diamonds cooler (Cooler)\nThis a Rollie, not a Muller (Hey)\nDabbin' on 'em like the usual (Dab)\nMagic with the brick, do voodoo (Magic)\nCourtside with a bad bitch (Bitch)\nThen I send the bitch through Uber (Go)\nI'm young and rich and plus I'm bougie (Hey)\nI'm not stupid so I keep the Uzi (Rrah)\nRackaids on rackaids, got back-ends on back-ends\nSo my money makin' my back ache (Aagh)\nYou niggas got a low Act rate (Act)\nWe from the Nawf, yeah, Dat Way (Nawf)\nFat Cookie blunt in the ashtray (Cookie)\nTwo bitches, just national smash day (Smash)\nHop in the Lamb', have a drag race (Skrrt)\nI let them birds take a bath, bae (Brr)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nRaindrop (Drip), drop-top (Drop-top)\nSmokin' on cookie in the hotbox (Cookie)\nFuckin' on your bitch, she a thot, thot (Thot)\nCookin' up dope in the crockpot (Pot)\nWe came from nothin' to somethin', nigga (Hey)\nI don't trust nobody, grip the trigger (Nobody)\nCall up the gang and they come and get ya (Gang)\nCry me a river, give you a tissue (Hey)\nMy bitch is bad and bougie (Bad)\nCookin' up dope with a Uzi (Blaow)\nMy niggas is savage, ruthless (Savage)\nWe got 30s and hundred-rounds too (Grrah)\nMy bitch is bad and bougie (Bad)\nCookin' up dope with a Uzi (Dope)\nMy niggas is savage, ruthless (Hey)\nWe got 30s and hundred-rounds too (Glah)\n\nPour a four, I'm droppin' muddy, outer space, Kid Cudi (Drank)\nIntroduce me to your bitch as wifey and we know she sluttin' (Bitch)\nBroke a brick down, Nutty Buddy, now that nigga duckin' (Phew)\nDon't move too fast, I might shoot ya (Huh?)\nDraco bad and bougie (Draco)\nI'm always hangin' with shooters (Brrah)\nMight be posted somewhere secluded (Private)\nStill be playin' with pots and pans, call me Quavo Ratatouille (Cook it up)\nRun with that sack, call me Boobie (Run with it)\nWhen I'm on stage, show me boobies (Ayy)\nIce on my neck, I'm the coolest (Ice)\nHop out the suicide with the Uzi (Pew-pew-pew)\nI pull up, I pull up, I pull up\nI hop out with all of the drugs and the good luck (Skrrt)\nI'm cookin', I'm cookin', I'm whippin'\nI'm whippin' until it rock up, let it lock up (Lock up)\nI gave her ten racks\nI told her go shoppin' and spend it all at the pop up (Ten)\nThese bitches, they fuck and suck dick\nAnd they bustin' for Instagram, get your clout up\nUh, yeah, that way (Yeah)\nFloat on the track like a Segway (Go)\nYeah, that way (Dat way)\nI used to trap by the Subway (Trappin', trappin')\nYeah, that way (Go)\nYoung nigga trap with the AK (Rrah, uh)\nYeah, that way (Yeah)\nBig dyke ho, get the door, Macy Gray (Hey)\nRaindrop (Drip), drop-top (Drop-top)\nSmokin' on cookie in the hotbox (Cookie)\nFuckin' on your bitch, she a thot, thot (Thot)\nCookin' up dope in the crockpot (Pot)\nWe came from nothin' to somethin', nigga (Hey)\nI don't trust nobody, grip the trigger (Nobody)\nCall up the gang and they come and get ya (Gang)\nCry me a river, give you a tissue (Hey)\nMy bitch is bad and bougie (Bad)\nCookin' up dope with a Uzi (Blaow)\nMy niggas is savage, ruthless (Savage)\nWe got 30s and hundred-rounds too (Grrah)\nMy bitch is bad and bougie (Bad)\nCookin' up dope with a Uzi (Dope, huh?)\nMy niggas is savage, ruthless (Hey, what?)\nWe got 30s and hundred-rounds too (Glah, Lil Uzi)\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nMy bitch, she bad to the bone (She what?)\nAyy, wait, these niggas watchin'\nI swear to God they be my clones (They watchin')\nYeah, hey, huh\nSwitchin' my hoes like my flows (What?)\nSwitchin' my flows like my clothes (Like what?)\nKeep on shootin' that gun, don't reload (Damn)\nOoh, ooh, now she want fuck with my crew (My crew)\n'Cause the money come all out the roof (Damn, damn)\nDrive the 'Rari, that bitch got no roof (Skrrt)\nWait, what kind of 'Rari? (Wait) 458 (Damn)\nAll of these niggas, they hate (They hate)\nTry to hide, shoot through the gate (Wow)\nLook, go to strip club, make it rain, yeah\nSo much money they use rakes (They use rakes)\nCount a hundred thousand in your face (In your face)\nYeah, then put 300 right in the safe (Yeah)\nMet her today, yeah (Ooh)\nShe talk to me like she knew me, yeah (Ooh)\nGo to sleep in a jacuzzi, yeah (Yeah)\nWakin' up right to a two-piece, yeah\nCountin' that paper like loose-leaf, yeah\nGettin' that chicken with blue cheese, yeah\nBoy, you so fake, like my collar, you snakin'\nI swear to God that be that Gucci (Ayy)\nAnd you know we winnin' (Winnin')\nYeah, we is not losin'\nTry to play your song, it ain't move me (What?)\nSaw your girl once, now she choosin', yeah (Hey!)\nRaindrop (Drip), drop-top (Drop-top)\nSmokin' on cookie in the hotbox (Cookie)\nFuckin' on your bitch, she a thot, thot (Thot, yeah)\nCookin' up dope in the crockpot (Pot)\nWe came from nothin' to somethin', nigga (Hey)\nI don't trust nobody, grip the trigger (Nobody, yeah)\nCall up the gang and they come and get ya (Gang)\nCry me a river, give you a tissue (Hey, Lil Uzi)\nMy bitch is bad and bougie (Bad, she bad)\nCookin' up dope with a Uzi (Blaow, cookin' up, cookin' up)\nMy niggas is savage, ruthless (Savage, they savage)\nWe got 30s and hundred-rounds too (Grrah)\nMy bitch is bad and bougie (Bad)\nCookin' up dope with a Uzi (Dope, what?)\nMy niggas is savage, ruthless (Hey, yeah)\nWe got 30s and hundred-rounds too (Lil Uzi)"}
{"text":"(Zaytoven)\nYeah\nOh shit, man, who that is?\nShoutout Migos, shoutout Zaytoven one time\nThat's Migos and Drake at the Versace store\n\nVersace, Versace\nMedusa head on me like I'm Illuminati (Versace!)\nThis is a gated community\nPlease get the fuck off the property (gate!)\nRap must be changin'\n'Cause I'm at the top and ain't no one on top of me (woo!)\nNiggas be wantin' a verse for a verse\nBut man, that's not a swap to me (nah!)\nDrownin' in compliments\nPool in the backyard that look like Metropolis (Metropolis?)\nI think I'm sellin' a million first week\nMan, I guess I'm a optimist (milli!)\nBorn in Toronto but sometimes I feel like Atlanta adopted us (go!)\nWhat the fuck is you talkin' 'bout?\nSaw this shit comin' like I had binoculars, boy\nVersace, Versace\nWe stay at the mansion when we in Miami\nThe pillows Versace, the sheets are Versace\nI just won a Grammy (woo!)\nI been so quiet, I got the world like\n\"What the fuck is he plannin'?\" (What?)\nJust make sure that you got a back up plan\n'Cause that shit might come in handy (go, go!)\nStarted a label, the album is comin' September\nJust wait on it (just wait on it!)\nThis year I'm eatin' your food\nAnd my table got so many plates on it (so many!) (damn!)\nHundred-inch TV at my house\nI sit back like \"Damn, I look great on it!\" (damn, I look good!)\nI do not fuck with your new shit, my nigga\nDon't ask for my take on it (don't ask for my opinion!)\nSpeakin' in lingo, man, this for my nigga\nThat trap out the bando (bando, bando!)\nThis for my niggas that call up Fernando to move a piano (brr, brr, brr!)\nFuck all your feelin' 'cause business is business\nIt's strictly financial (business is business!)\nI'm always the first one to get it, man\nThat's how you lead by example (I got it!)\nVersace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace (Versace!)\nWord in New York is the Dyckman and Heights girls are callin' me Papi (woo, woo)\nI'm all on the low\nTake a famous girl out where there's no paparazzi (flash!)\nI'm tryna give Halle Berry a baby and no one can stop me (smash!)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace\nVersace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace\n\nVersace, Versace\nMedusa head on me like I'm Illuminati\nI know that you like it\nVersace, my neck and my wrist is so sloppy\nVersace, Versace\nI love it, Versace, the top of my Audi\nMy plug, he John Gotti\nHe give me the ducks, I know that they're mighty\nShoes and shirt Versace\nYour bitch want in on my pockets\nShe ask me why my drawers silk\nI told that bitch \"Versace\"\nCheetah print on my sleeve\nBut I ain't never been in the jungle\nTry to take my sack\nBetter run with it, nigga, don't fumble\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace\nVersace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace\nYou can do Truey, I do it Versace\nYou copped the Honda, I copped the Mazi\nYou smoke the mid, I smoke exotic\nI set the trend, you niggas copy\nCookin' this dope like I work at Hibachi\nLook at the watch, it blow hot like some Taki\nCome in my room, my sheet Versace\nWhen I go to sleep I dream Versace\nMedusa, Medusa, Medusa\nThese niggas, they wishin' they knew you\nThey coppin' the Truey, remixin' the Louis\nMy blunts is fat as Rasputia\nIn a striped shirt like I\u2019m Tony the Tiger\nI'm beatin' the pot, call me Michael\nLot of you niggas that copy\nLook at my closet, Versace, Versace\n\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace\nVersace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace\n\nKing of Versace, Medusa my wifey\nMy car is Versace, I got stripes on my Mazi\nI'm dressin' so nicely they can't even copy\nYou'd think I'm Egyptian, this gold on my body\nMoney my mission, two bitches\nThey kissin', my diamonds is pissin', my swag is exquisite\nYoung Offset no preacher but you niggas listen\nThem blue and white diamonds, they look like the Pistons\nCodeine sippin', Versace, I'm grippin'\nThem bands in my pocket, you know that I\u2019m livin'\nI'm draped up in gold, but no Pharaoh\nRockin' handcuffs: that's Ferragamo\nBricks by the boat, overload\nI think I'm the don but no Rocco\nThis the life that I chose\nBought out the store, can't go back no more\nVersace my clothes while I'm sellin' them bows\nVersace take over, it took out my soul\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace\nVersace, Versace Versace, Versace Versace"}
{"text":"Nard & B\nTrenchWerk\n(Ayy)\nMama told me (Ayy)\nNot to sell work (Mama)\nSeventeen five, same color T-shirt (White)\nMama told me (Ayy)\nNot to sell work (Mama)\nSeventeen five, same color T-shirt (Yeah)\n\nYoung nigga poppin' with a pocket full of cottage (Ayy)\nWoah, kemosabe, chopper aimin' at your noggin (Ayy)\nHad to cop the Audi, then the top, I had to chop it (Skrrt, skrrt)\nNiggas pocket watchin', so I gotta keep the rocket (Grrah)\n\nNeck water faucet (Water)\nMockingbirds mocking (Woo)\nAct' pint stocking (Act')\nNats keep thottin' (Nat)\nWrist on hockey (Hockey)\nWrist on rocky (Rocky)\nLot of niggas copy, huh\nName someone can stop me (No one)\nBitches call me Papi (Bitch)\n'Sace, that's my hobby ('Sace)\nScotty on the molly, pocket rocket from O'Reilly (Grrah)\nOne off in the chamber, ain't no need for me to cock it (Uh-uh)\nNiggas get to droppin' when that Draco get to poppin' (Frr)\nAll I want is cottage, roll a cigar full of broccoli (Cookie)\nNo check, want all cash, nigga, I don't do deposits (Uh-uh)\nBitches cross the border, nigga, bitches from the tropics (Whew)\nI'ma get that bag, nigga, ain't no doubt about it (Yup)\nI'ma feed my family, nigga, ain't no way around it (Family)\nAin't gon' never let up, nigga, God said show my talent (Show it)\nYoung nigga with the Anna, walkin' with the hammer (Grrah)\nTalkin' country grammar, nigga, straight out Nawf Atlanta (Nawfside)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nYoung nigga poppin' with a pocket full of cottage (Ayy)\nWoah, kemosabe, chopper aimin' at your noggin (Ayy)\nHad to cop the Audi, then the top, I had to chop it (Skrrt, skrrt)\nNiggas pocket watchin', so I gotta keep the rocket (Ayy)\n\n(Ayy)\nMama told me (Ayy)\nNot to sell work (Mama)\nSeventeen five, same color T-shirt (White)\nMama told me (Ayy)\nNot to sell work (Mama)\nSeventeen five, same color T-shirt (Yeah)\n\nMama told you\nMama told me (Mama)\nNot to sell work\nMama told you (Uh)\nSeventeen five, same color T-shirt (White)\n\n1995 (90s)\n2005 (2000s)\nSeen it with my eyes (Seen it)\nDope still alive (Dope)\nReal mob ties (Mob)\nReal frog eyes (Frog)\nReal whole pies (Woah)\nAll-time high (High)\nDo it for the culture (Culture)\nThey gon' bite like vultures (Vultures)\nWay back when I was trappin' out Toyotas (Woo, skrrt, skrrt)\nI'ma hit the gas (Gas)\n12 can't pull me over (12)\nSpace coupe, Quavo Yoda, pourin' drank in sodas\nI get high on my own, sir\nHeard you gon' clone, sir\nStop all that flexin', young nigga don't wanna go there\nNever been a gopher but I always been a soldier (No)\nYoung niggas in the cut, posted like a vulture (Woo, bah)\nDivin' off the stage in the crowd, it's a moshpit (Dive)\nYeah, shawty bad, but she broke and she don't own shit\nMama asked me, \"Son, when the trappin' gon' quit?\" (Mama, Mama)\nI been ridin' 'round through the city in my new bitch (Woo, skrrt)\n\nYoung nigga poppin' with a pocket full of cottage (Ayy)\nWoah, kemosabe, chopper aimin' at your noggin (Ayy)\nHad to cop the Audi, then the top, I had to chop it (Skrrt, skrrt)\nNiggas pocket watchin', so I gotta keep the rocket (Ayy)\n\n(Ayy)\nMama told me (Ayy)\nNot to sell work (Mama)\nSeventeen five, same color T-shirt (White)\nMama told me (Ayy)\nNot to sell work (Mama)\nSeventeen five, same color T-shirt (Yeah)\nMama told you\nMama told you"}
{"text":"De-de-de-de-de-de-de-de-Deko\nOG Parker\n\nPop a perky just to start up (Pop it, pop it)\nPop two cups of purple just to warm up (Two cups, drank)\nI heard your bitch, she got that water\n(Splash, drip, drip, woo, splash, ayy)\nSlippery (Wow), 'scuse me, please me (Please)\nI'm up (Up), oh, believe me, believe me (Believe me)\nGet beat (Beat), 'cause I'm flexin' 'Rari's (Skrrt)\nYou can bet on me (Skrr, skrr, hey, hey, hey)\n\nTater tot, fuck niggas on my radar watch (Watchin')\nCrocodile hunter, turn 'em to some gator shots (Urr)\nIced out watch (Ice), ridin' round, ten o'clock (Ten)\nRidin' round, geeked up, damn, think it's three o'clock (Three)\nFour o'clock (Four), five o'clock, six o'clock (Five)\nI'm gon' pop, if I don't, I'm back to the pot (Whip)\nI got rocks (Rocks), big bales, big arms\nTommy gun (Prr), come out and play, let's have fun (Yeah)\nBig scales (Scales), fish scale, big weight (Fish)\nIceberg (Ice), ice tray, ice tray (Woo)\nPlug called (Called), tried to front, I don't need it (Brrt)\nI don't need it (Brrt), pockets strong, wrist anemic (Strong)\nGet freezy (Freezy), young nigga pay your debt-is (Debt-is)\nGrandma (Grandma), auntie Ab and auntie Neesa (Neesa)\nUncle Bo (Bo), auntie Greta serve ya Perkys (Greta)\nAuntie Eva (Eva), if she got a pound, she might just serve it (Serve)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nPop a perky just to start up (Pop it, pop it)\nPop two cups of purple just to warm up (Two cups, drank)\nI heard your bitch, she got that water\n(Splash, drip, drip, woo, splash, ayy)\nSlippery (Wow), 'scuse me, please me (Please)\nI'm up (Up), oh, believe me, believe me (Believe me)\nGet beat (Beat), 'cause I'm flexin' 'Rari's (Skrrt)\nYou can bet on me (Skrr, skrr, hey, hey, hey)\n\nOffset!\nSlippery (Slip), she numbin' me, that tongue on me (Eghhh)\nHonestly (Honest), she fuck with me, your wife to be (Wife)\nIn Italy, bought her a fur, look like the wildebeast (Wrarr)\nJust chill with me (Chill)\nIt is no worry, it is a bill to me (It ain't nothin')\nI pull up Diablo, I pull up with models\nI gave her her first Philippe (Philippe)\nWe goin' full throttle, she swallowed the bottle\nI'm all in her ovaries (Eghhh)\nI gave her some dollars\nI Gucci'd her collar, now she can't get over me (Hey)\nShe want a dose of me (Dose)\nJust hop in the Ghost with me (Ghost)\nPerky and molly, don't vote for nobody\nThese bitch ass niggas ain't solid (Solid)\nRun in your house and with pumps and the shotties\nYour mama might be up inside it (Bah)\nCars robotic, bad bitch with a body\nBut really don't care nothing about it (Uh-uh)\nCappin' and poppin', I seen that lil' Masi\nI coulda pulled up and just shot ya (Brrt)\nIt's a jungle, I let 'em survive (Survive)\nPop a perky just to start up (Pop it, pop it)\nPop two cups of purple just to warm up (Two cups, drank)\nI heard your bitch, she got that water\n(Splash, drip, drip, woo, splash, go ayy)\nSlippery, 'scuse me, please me (Please)\nI'm up, oh, believe me, believe me (believe me)\nGet beat (Beat), 'cause I'm flexin' 'Rari's (Skrrt)\nYou can bet on me (Skrr, skrr, hey, hey, hey)\n\nI rock water, diamonds, I'm drippin' but not slippin'\nI threw a quarter (Well damn), but nawl, I'm not trippin'\nBugatti on Forgis, and nawl, I'm not Crippin'\nI buy Ferraris like Jordans, I'm Mike and y'all Pippen\nChillin', just me and my millions\nNiggas, they all in they feelings\nMy bitches, I spoil them like they chillens\nSo persistent, if I want it, I go get it\nI'm so slimy, grimy, sheisty but still shinin'\nRude and unkindly, cruel with no conscience\nDrop the top on College, nigga, I ain't with no-nonsense\nAnd I'm a murderer, nigga, but I don't promote violence\n\nDeadshot (Brrt), AK make your head rock (Brrt)\nRed dot (Pew-pew), retro Air Jord' deadstock (-stock)\nLean on rocks (Act), Perkys, Mollies, Xannies, Rocks (Roxies)\nOxycontin (Oxyies), Takeoff, I'm your med doc (Takeoff!)\nLeg lock (Leg), the key I got unlock the box (Box)\nWhat's in that box (Huh?) Don't tell 'em, they might show the cops (Shh)\nWristwatch (Bite), abnormal so I flood the clock (Ice)\nMoney flop, panties drop, that's when them titties pop (Woo)\nFree my partners (John Wick)\n'Til they free it's fuck the cops (Fuck 'em)\nThey know I geek a lot\nThey don't know I keep a Glock (Clueless)\nAin't been no drought (Where)\nThey think I been sleep a lot\nThey think I'm dumb (Dumb)\nThey don't know I see the plot (See it)\nFuck it I seize a knot\nPop a perky just to start up (Pop it, pop it)\nPop two cups of purple just to warm up (Two cups, drank)\nI heard your bitch, she got that water\n(Splash, drip, drip, woo, splash, ayy)\nSlippery (Wow), 'scuse me, please me (Please)\nI'm up (Up), oh, believe me, believe me (Believe me)\nGet beat (Beat), 'cause I'm flexin' 'Rari's (Skrrt)\nYou can bet on me (Skrr, skrr, hey, hey, hey)"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah (Deko)\nWoah, hold on (OG Parker)\nUh\n\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it)\nWalk it like I talk it\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it (Yeah)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it)\nWalk it like I talk it\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it (Hey)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it)\nWalk it like I talk it\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it (Talk it)\nWalk it like I talk it (Ayy)\nWalk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Yeah)\n\nTake my shoes and walk a mile\nSomethin' that you can't do (Woo, hey)\nBig talks of the town, big boy gang moves (Gang moves)\nI like to walk around wit' my chain loose (Chain, chain)\nShe just bought a new ass but got the same boobs (Same boobs)\nWhippin' up dope, scientist\n(Whip it up, whip it up, cook it up, cook it up, skrr, skrr)\nThat's my sauce, where you find it?\n(That's my sauce, look it up, look it up, find it)\nAddin' up checks, no minus\n(Add it up, add it up, add it up, add it up, yeah)\nGet your respect in diamonds (Ice, ice, ice, ice, ice, ice)\nI bought a Plain Jane Rollie, these niggas bought they fame (Woo)\nI think my back got scoliosis 'cause I swerve the lane (Skrr)\nHeard you signed your life for that brand new chain (I heard)\nThink it came with stripes but you ain't straight with the gang (Gang, gang)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Yeah)\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Talk it), walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Talk it), walk it like I talk it (Let's go)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it, walk it, walk it like I talk it (Hey)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Yeah)\nWalk it like I talk it, walk it, walk it like I talk it\n\nAyy, I gotta stay in my zone\nSay that we been beefin' dog, but you on your own\nFirst night, she gon' let me fuck 'cause we grown\nI hit her, gave her back to the city, she home\n(She at home now!) That was that, so\nI can't be beefin' with no wack nigga, got no backbone\nHeard you livin' in a mansion in all your raps, though\nBut your shit look like the trap on this Google Maps, though\nWe been brothers since Versace bando, whoa\nName ringin' like a Migo trap phone, whoa\nUsed to be with Vashtie at Santo's\nThat's on Tommy Campos, we live like Sopranos and I\u2014\n\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Yeah)\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Talk it), walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Talk it), walk it like I talk it (Let's go)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it, walk it, walk it like I talk it (Hey)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Yeah)\nWalk it like I talk it, walk it, walk it like I talk it\nWoo, woo, woo, Offset\nNiggas pocket watchin' (Watchin')\nI want that thot, this thot, m\u00e9nagin' (Which one?)\nI bought a franchise to double up the profits (Franchise)\nWe make a landslide, chopper get to poppin' (Landslide)\nElliot got me rocky, pour sake, chicken teriyaki (Brr)\nTakeoff, rocket, keep 'em in pocket\nWater gon' lock it, quadruple the profit (Profit)\nI walk like I walk (hey) talk like I talk (Woah)\nWhat\u2019s in my vault? Load of cash and assaults (Brr!)\nI put a lab in my loft (Lab)\nShe cook up and jab with the fork (Jab)\nBy the pair, I got karats that choke (By the pair)\nBy the pair, I got karats each lobe (By the pair)\nPrivate life, private jets 'round the globe (Private life)\nHit a bitch, hit a lick with the 'cho (Hey)\n\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Yeah)\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Talk it), walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Talk it), walk it like I talk it (Let's go)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it, walk it, walk it like I talk it (Hey)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Yeah)\nWalk it like I talk it, walk it, walk it like I talk it\nWatch it buck, no Milwaukee (Hunnid)\nWalk it, like I talk it\nThat's my bro, he know the lingo (Lingo)\nAin't no walkie-talkie (no)\nThis some, \"You know, why don't we know?\" (We know?)\nHold out on that coffee\nSmoke the cookie, get the coughin'\nDrop-dead fresh, I need a coffin\nBallin', somethin' we do often (Ball)\nTake the pot and I'm splashin' up, dolphin (Splash)\nI take the nine and go buy me a faucet (Nine)\nWalk it like I talk it, a nigga done bought it (Uh)\nI play the coach so I gotta call it (Call it)\nUp in the shits, some niggas just dormant (Shits)\nWalk in the buildin', they start applaudin' (Applaudin')\nI get a rebound, I ain't talkin' 'bout Spalding (Ball)\n\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Yeah)\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Talk it), walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it\nWalk it, walk it like I talk it (Talk it), walk it like I talk it (Let's go)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Woo)\nWalk it like I talk it, walk it, walk it like I talk it (Hey)\nWalk it like I talk it (Walk it), walk it like I talk it (Yeah)\nWalk it like I talk it, walk it, walk it like I talk it"}
{"text":"Woo, woo, woo, woo\nWoo, woo, woo, woo\n\nDance with my dogs in the nighttime (Wroof)\nTrap nigga with the chickens like Popeyes (Popeyes)\nMoney changin' colors like tie-dye (Tie-dye)\nI'm just tryna get it, I ain't tryna die (No)\nShe got a big ol' onion booty, make the world cry (Cry)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nHold them bands down (Hey), hold your mans down (Hey)\nWho told you come around? (Who?) This that trap sound (Trap)\nDesigner clothes (Clothes), fashion shows (Shows)\nTrap house (House) made of gold (Gold)\nControl the bag now (Control it), no need to brag now (No need)\nAyy, put the mask down (Mask), we livin' fast now (Fast)\nFinest hoes (Finest), wrist froze (Ho)\nWe can  go (We can) coast to coast (Coast)\n\nKeep watchin' me whip up\nStill be real and famous, yeah\nDance with my dogs in the nighttime (Woo, woo, woo, wroof)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nOffset gon' whip it, intermission, let the birds fly (Brr)\nI get money, tunnel vision through my third eye (Money)\nIn that skillet, watch me flip it like it's Five Guys (Flip it)\nLook at my pilgrim, take off the ceiling, look at the blue sky (Skrrt)\nIcy Patek, check, yeah, baguettes, they sit on my neck (Ice)\nI don't regret shit, yeah, I'm paid and I don't got a debt (Hah)\nYou crawl 'fore you walk, you can ball every week\nFor my dogs 'hind the wall, we gon' ball when you free (Ball)\nStop watchin' me, democracy, you wanna copy me (You watchin')\nLife's Monopoly, go cop me some land and some property (Property)\nAP, Rolls (Rolls), pink diamonds, woah (Woah)\nWhip up the soda, diamonds off the Royce (Hey)\n\nKeep watchin' me whip up\nStill be real and famous, yeah\nDance with my dogs in the nighttime (Wroof)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Wroof)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, curry chicken, call it stir fry\nTakeoff, I'm the bird keeper, let the birds fly\nWhy you tryna take my prize? You a dead guy\nOf course, I gotta keep a watch out through my bird eye\nNo casket, drop dead fresh and I got dead guys\nDon't discriminate, ball players come in all sizes\nFinger roll, post move or the pick and roll\nThey mad the way we win, they think we used a cheat code\nWhy you keep lookin' at me?\nI feel like niggas got static\nIt must be the Patek\nPockets blue cheese, I'm in the kitchen\n\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nKeep watchin' me whip up\nStill be real and famous, yeah\nDance with my dogs in the nighttime (Wroof)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Whip it)\nIn the kitchen, wrist twistin' like it's stir fry (Wroof)"}
{"text":"Bentley truck, yeah, that's my choice of ride (Skrrt, skrrt)\nAlways keep some bitches on the side, yeah, yeah (Woo)\nDon't stand too close, my diamonds gonna bite (Bling)\nI get drugs for the right price, yeah, yeah (Drugs)\nShe gon' eat this molly like it's rice (Eat it up)\nI'ma let that lean flow through my ice (Lean, lean)\nSaid she never had a Migo night (No)\nI'ma make her sing like Kelly Price (Sing!)\n\nMy ice, Klondike, ride 'round, dough right (Yeah)\nRide 'round, get right, get rich (Get rich), good night (Ooh)\nGood night (Good night) (Yeah)\nMy bitch (Bitch) for real, she honest, won't tell (Oh)\nPopeye's, oatmeals, Popeye's and oatmeal (Oh, ayy)\nShe gon' kill, yeah (Pew, pew, pew, pew, pew, pew)\nI go through all the cities (Yeah), I'm on a mile a minute (Uh)\nI go a mile a minute (Skrrt)\nYou wanna play violent? Let's get it (Yeah)\nTake me back to the old days (Old)\nTake me back to my old ways (Old)\nLifestyle, yeah, the gang way (Gang)\nWay before they called me Sensei (Oh)\nGet robbed in the driveway (Robbed)\nBad bitches, they was not here (Oh)\nYou were prolly watching Garfield (Hey)\nTunnel vision and nothin' else\nKick door, that's on our face (Door)\nI done walk in the hallway\nBasketball then gunplay (Prrr)\nYoung niggas didn't graduate\nYou probably think I couldn't make it (I made it)\nIt's all good God saved me (God)\nNow I'm doin' what I wanna (Ayy)\nBentley truck bent the corner (Skrrt-skrrt, skrrt-skrrt, skrrt-skrrt)\nNiggas bite like piranhas (Bite)\nIf I gotta put the bag on 'em, I'ma pay 'em all hundreds\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nBentley truck, yeah, that's my choice of ride (Choice of ride, yeah) (Skrrt, skrrt)\nAlways keep some bitches on the side, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nDon't stand too close, my diamonds gonna bite (Gonna bite ya)\nI get drugs for the right price, yeah, yeah\nShe gon' eat this molly like it's rice\nI'ma let that lean flow through my ice\nSaid she never had a Migo night\nI'ma make her sing like Kelly Price (Sing!)\n\nFlash, dash (Straight up)\nTreat the Bentley truck like a Jag'\nGot the red and blues on my ass\nGot lethal, narcs, lethal, darts\nMy bitch got lethal, parts, a lethal heart\nAll my furniture same color, molly tan (Molly tan)\nYou wanna go to heaven, grab my hand (Grab my hand)\nShe gon' suck me dry until we land (Yeah)\nI'ma call on squad like, \"What's the plans?\" (It's lit)\nWe been rockin', geekin', goin' all night (Skrrt, skrrt)\nTreat my Lambo like a Fisher Price, yeah, yeah (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI can never let her spend the night\nWoke up, cocaine all in my hair, thought it was lice, yeah, yeah\n(Straight up!)\nBentley truck, yeah, that's my choice of ride (Choice of ride, yeah, skrrt, skrrt)\nAlways keep some bitches on the side, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nDon't stand too close, my diamonds gonna bite (Gonna bite, yeah)\nI get drugs for the right price, yeah, yeah (Drugs)\nShe gon' eat this molly like it's rice\nI'ma let that lean flow through my ice\nSaid she never had a Migo night\nI'ma make her sing like Kelly Price (Sing!)\n\nNo key, push button auto, start my ride (Ride)\nTwo piece chicken wing without the fries (Fries)\nIf I pop the seal and drink it, you gon' drive (Drive)\nIf you let me in and I like, I change your life (Change)\nBack it up, back it up, back it up, alright (Alright)\nWe go try something different just for tonight (Try)\nTear the tab and I paid the price (Price)\nJust take me there I might roll the dice (Ah)\nWith a blindfold, I could still whip up a pie (Pie)\nNever leave and go nowhere without the fire (Brrr)\nIf you cashed out on that Bentley Truck say \"I\" (I)\nPlus another car that's on my ice (Yeah yeah)\n\nBentley truck, yeah, that's my choice of ride (Choice of ride, yeah, skrrt skrrt)\nAlways keep some bitches on the side, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nDon't stand too close, my diamonds gonna bite (Gonna bite, yeah)\nI get drugs for the right price, yeah, yeah (Drugs)\nShe gon' eat this molly like it's rice\nI'ma let that lean flow through my ice\nSaid she never had a Migo night\nI'ma make her sing like Kelly Price\nMy choice of ride (My choice of ride)\nMy choice of ride (My choice of ride)\nYeah, yeah, she gon' eat this molly like it's rice\nI'ma make her sing, sing like Kelly Price, yeah (Woah)\nI just can't understand her, understand\nI just can't understand, understand\nShe drive, I drive hours, I always drive, I drive for you\nI black out, I black out too"}
{"text":"Magn\u00edfico, arriba\nMagn\u00edfico, arriba, arriba\n\nTrapping like the narco (Narco)\nGot dope like Pablo (Pablo)\nCut throat like Pablo (Cut throat) \nChop trees with the Draco (Draco)\nOn the Nawf, got Diego (Diego)\nSay \"Hasta luego\" (Luego)\nMuy Bien wrap a  kilo (Yeah)\nSnub nose with potato\nStraight out the jungle (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n(Magn\u00edfico)\nThis real rap, no mumble (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n(Arriba)\nMy skin black like mamba (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nGot stash boxes in Hondas (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nStraight out the jungle (Oh yeah)\n\nWoo, bricks in the brick house (Yeah)\nUse to hit licks and go to ma house (Licks, momma)\nStraight out the jungle (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nYoung nigga don't know nothin' now (Ya)\nYoung nigga know too much now (Woo)\nBow bow bow, that'll slow them down (Uhh, yeah, yeah)\nWe pick up the hundos (Hundos)\nThen drop them off to Huncho (Huncho)\nI came from the bando (Bando, beep beep)\nHere go the wide load\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nTrapping like the narco (Narco)\nGot dope like Pablo (Pablo)\nCut throat like Pablo (Cut throat)\nChop trees with the Draco (Draco)\nOn the Nawf, got Diego (Diego)\nSay \"Hasta luego\" (Luego)\nMuy Bien wrap a  kilo (Yeah)\nSnub nose with potatoes\nStraight out the jungle (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n(Magn\u00edfico)\nThis real rap, no mumble (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n(Arriba, arriba)\nMy skin black like mamba (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nGot stash boxes in Hondas (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nStraight out the jungle\nMagn\u00edfico, arriba, arriba\n\nHey, cold gang with the cocaine (Coke)\nThe more money make more rain (Rain)\nPourin' up a pint while I'm baggin' propane (Baggin')\nPoint blank range give a nigga nose rings (Yes)\nSkip to my lou with a pack in the cat (Cat)\nJiffy, Lube, where the bricks, where they at? (Where)\nDripping, ooze, the Patek all wet (Ooh)\nThe birds in the trap, they ain't leavin' out they nest (Brr)\nBaguette, pav\u00e9 set like meth (Yup)\nYup, runnin' with the pack got slept (Yeah)\nHands in the cookie jar, cut his finger off (Ah)\nNigga bein' greedy, we gon' cut his tummy out (Huh)\nHundred bricks on the roads, took a couple routes (Bricks)\nPlush momma's house, Hermes and Fendi couch (Ayy)\nUh, I ain't really with the razzle dazzle (Nah)\nKnock him off and then I throw him off the boat paddle (Brr)\nGo to Tijuana, put the kilo on the saddle (Ooh)\nSack him, hit a lick and cop a pterodactyl (Sack)\nPap him, choppa biting down like an apple (Argh)\nMansion with the acres with the horses and the cattle (Hey)\nTrapping like the narco (Narco)\nGot dope like Pablo (Pablo)\nCut throat like Pablo (Cut throat)\nChop trees with the Draco (Draco)\nOn the Nawf, got Diego (Diego)\nSay \"Hasta luego\" (Luego)\nMuy Bien wrap a kilos (Yeah)\nSnub nose with potatoes\nStraight out the jungle (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n(Magn\u00edfico)\nThis real rap, no mumble (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n(Arriba, arriba)\nMy skin black like mamba (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nGot stash boxes in Hondas (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nStraight out the jungle\nMagn\u00edfico, arriba, arriba\n\nTake-Takeoff\nNo monkey in the jungle block hot like a sauna (Hah)\nBustas knocking on me, tryna weave with anacondas (Fire)\nJumpin' in the water, tryna sneak across the Waterglass (Splash)\nGotta seek guards out, got me bit by a piranha (Ouch)\nI'll bag it, bag a money, know I gotta have it\nSavage, but I'm still a gentleman in Cali (Cali)\nStatic, nigga turn to mean about the cabbage (Uh)\nKill his whole family if he run off with your package (Brrt!)\nI just put a pack on the way to Bogota (Pack)\nPoke his eyes out, ain't no tellin' what he saw (Poke 'em out)\nI'ma wire his jaw, I don't know if he will talk (Wire jaw)\nGet the chainsaw and I'ma saw his legs off (Saw)\nThey knew that we was gang but they sayin' that we a ring (Gang)\nInvestigatin', takin' pictures of the whole team (DEA)\nUndercover, tryna do a sting\n10 mil' on a plane, going straight to Medell\u00edn\nTrapping like the narco (Narco)\nGot dope like Pablo (Pablo)\nCut throat like Pablo (Cut throat)\nChop trees with the Draco (Draco)\nOn the Nawf, got Diego (Diego)\nSay \"Hasta luego\" (Luego)\nMuy Bien wrap a kilo (Yeah)\nSnub nose with potatoes\nStraight out the jungle (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n(Magn\u00edfico)\nThis real rap, no mumble (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n(Arriba, arriba)\nMy skin black like mamba (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nGot stash boxes in Hondas (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nStraight out the jungle"}
{"text":"M-M-M-Murda\nYeah\n\nHold up, hold up (Hold up, hold up)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nBad bitches, fuck 'em then dismiss 'em (Bad, woo)\nI ain't really here to take no pictures (Flash)\nMiddle finger up, fuck the system (Fuck 'em)\n\nYeah, coupe is robotic, I ain't touchin' (Nah, skrt)\nLookin' at your hoe because she is bustin' (Ye, woo)\nRidin' in the coupe with the wings (Ye, brrt)\nGoin' to Chi-land with them chinks (Ye, chinks)\nPercocet party, servin' fiends (Perky!)\nSwear to God my plug was Vietnamese (Brrt brrt brrt)\nTaliban, my drugs, wrap 'em, please (Taliban)\nServin' all day, my gas on E (Let's go)\nThirty hollow tips in extendo (Bow, thirty, brrt)\nShadows keep wavin' by my window (Woo, shadows)\nThankin' God, he saved my life from kick doors (God!)\nStill sippin' oil, Migos Citgo (Drank, gone)\n\nHold up, hold up (Yeah)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nBad bitches, fuck 'em then dismiss 'em (Bad, woo)\nI ain't really here to take no pictures (Flash)\nMiddle finger up, fuck the system (Fuck 'em)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nHold up, get right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nGet right witcha\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nOffset! (Offset!)\nIn the kitchen with a lot of white (White)\nI done fucked a lot of niggas' wife (Smash)\nMake a milli, then I make it twice (M's)\nBought that Wraith and had the ceilin' light (Wraith)\nI like a bitch with some cellulite (Ooh)\nTape a brick to her, take a flight (Ooh)\nUsed to ask what the lick was like (Where?)\nNow I'm askin' what the Lear look like (Huh?)\nNiggas copy, Mike Tyson bite (Ahh-urr, ahh-urr, ahh)\nSmokin' cookie, yeah, that's dynamite (Cookie, woo)\nLamborghini, white on white (Lamborghini)\nAll these diamonds, yeah, they white on white (White)\nTakin' chances, had to roll the dice (Ayy)\nSend my shooters, come and take your life (Brrt)\nBorn with it\nCount a hundred thousand start snowin' with it (Hundred)\nGo and get it\nThirty round clip tear off a arm or ligament (Rrah)\nBitch I'm O-Dog from Menace (Urr)\nYou trappin' hard for pennies (Go)\nHop in the frog, it's tinted (Skrrt)\nAskin' the Lord, forgive me (Hey)\n\nHold up, hold up (Yeah)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nBad bitches, fuck 'em then dismiss 'em (Bad, woo)\nI ain't really here to take no pictures (Flash)\nMiddle finger up, fuck the system (Fuck 'em)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nHold up, get right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nGet right witcha\nPop me a missile (Ayy)\nTake me a picture (Flash)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nLit like Christmas (Like Christmas)\nWhite like tissue (White)\nDrank too official (Drank)\nCut like scissors (Cut)\nBoy got wisdom (Wisdom)\nFuckin' on vixens (Smash)\nWhole gang itchin' (Itch)\nFuckin' with the wrong one, trippin'\nThirty round extension for the tension (Brrt)\nHundred round drum, listen\nFuck around and end up missin' (Brrt)\nGet 'em knocked off for a ticket\nHave my young nigga do the sentence\nAw man, whip up the white, Wendy\nPick up the pipe, and she get no penny (Nope)\nRockstar livin' life, Lenny\nYou can do better, never settle\nKeep a Beretta, case of the pressure (Brrt)\nI tell the plug mail 'em\nWhich way? Dat way, tell 'em, ayy\n\nHold up, hold up (Yeah)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nBad bitches, fuck 'em then dismiss 'em (Bad, woo)\nI ain't really here to take no pictures (Flash)\nMiddle finger up, fuck the system (Fuck 'em)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nGet right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nHold up, get right witcha (I'ma get right witcha)\nGet right witcha"}
{"text":"If you know me, know this ain't my feng shui\nCertified everywhere, ain't gotta print my resume (Takeoff)\nTalking crazy, I pull up, andale\nR.I.P. to Nate Dogg, I had to regulate\n\nAyy Twaun turn that beat down\nHaha\nPublic Service Announcement\nWhere all my rich niggas at, man?\nYRN shit, man\nMigo!\n\nBroke niggas stand to the left (Left!)\nMy rich niggas stand to the right (To the right)\nLil' mama, she keep looking at me (Lil' mama!)\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\nHit it with the left, hit it with the right\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\nBeat it with the left, beat it with the right\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\n\nIf you know me know this ain't my feng shui\nCertified everywhere, ain't gotta print my resume (Takeoff)\nTalking crazy, I pull up andale\nR.I.P. to Nate Dogg, I had to regulate\nPocket rocket fire, watch him disintegrate\nIt's a truckload coming on the interstate (Truckload!)\nSirloin steak all on my dinner plate\nYour main bitch say she wanna make a sex tape\nRich nigga, I could never be a broke nigga (Rich nigga)\nBroke niggas, I can never get along with them\nAlways been hated since a little nigga (Always)\nIt's forever pussy nigga gotta deal with it (Rich nigga!)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nBroke niggas stand to the left\nMy rich niggas stand to the right\nLil' mama, she keep looking at me (Lil' mama!)\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\nHit it with the left, hit it with the right\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\nBeat it with the left, beat it with the right\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\n\nQuavo!\nFloat like a butterfly, sting like a bee\nRumble, young nigga, rumble! (Rumble!)\nLil' mama want a nigga like me in the sheets\nIce Cube knock it out like Deebo (Bow, bow!)\nNow who's that talking that gangsta shit?\nSomebody gonna kick your ass (kick your ass)\nWhen I walk up in the club I better make a thunderstorm (Yuh)\nLet them know that this a whole lot of cash\nRich niggas on the right, all night (Rich nigga)\nBroke niggas to the left, by yourself (Brokanese)\nNow who the hell just said that the roof on fire?\nCall 911 like Wyclef\n\nBroke niggas stand to the left\nMy rich niggas stand to the right\nLil' mama, she keep looking at me (Lil' mama!)\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\nHit it with the left, hit it with the right\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\nBeat it with the left, beat it with the right\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\nI'm a rich nigga, I don't like a bitch nigga\nSnitch nigga, broke nigga, I don't deal with you\nAll of my niggas, official, my bitches they skrippers\nMy niggas they criminals trying to get to the M&Ms\nIf your bitch is so innocent, why she sucking my children\nLights, camera, action, diamond dancing bitch we go in the building\nBad bitch make it clap, like Magnolia\nYoung rich nigga on the couch talking to Oprah\nBottles in the VIP while I stand on the sofa\nI don't speak your language, Brokanese, I thought I told ya\nThese bitches they be smokin' on hookah, my nigga ballin' like Hoosiers\nPull up in the Double R, go scare ya bitch, Freddy Krueger\nFlooded Franck Muller\n\nBroke niggas stand to the left\nMy rich niggas stand to the right\nLil' mama, she keep looking at me (Lil' mama!)\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\nHit it with the left, hit it with the right\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night\nBeat it with the left, beat it with the right\nI'ma knock the pussy out like fight night"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsHandsome and Wealthy Lyrics\nI don't know why I came in this club with you, girl (with you)\nDon't know why I came in with these diamonds on my chain (Shine!)\nSurrounded by bad bitches I can't get 'em out my face (Bitch!)\nIs it cause a nigga handsome and wealthy? (wealthy)\nIs it cause a nigga cook like a professor? (professor)\nI don't know how you feel can you tell me? (can you tell me?)\nI won't know how you feel 'til you tell me ('til you tell me)\nIs it cause a nigga handsome and wealthy?\n\nIs it cause I'm a star\nIt maybe could be my star status\nI got my chain and ring\nMy Rolex watch it got 50 carats\nIt could be QC or even maybe it's me\nIt could be that 4 hour flight, shopping in Beverly\nWhat's on your mind? I'm not Ginuwine\nAin't tryna spend no time\nI know my bitch she so fine\nBut I don't know what's on her mind\nGotta pay that cost to be a boss\nI put on my Louboutins playing golf\nYoung nigga walking with Nina Ross\nI'm dropping the bombs like Viet Cong\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI don't know why I came in this club with you, girl (with you)\nDon't know why I came in with these diamonds on my chain\nSurrounded by bad bitches I can't get 'em out my face\nIs it cause a nigga handsome and wealthy? (wealthy)\nIs it cause a nigga cook like a professor? (professor)\nI don't know how you feel can you tell me? (can you tell me?)\nI won't know how you feel 'til you tell me ('til you tell me)\nIs it cause a nigga handsome and wealthy?\n\nThey say I'm picky cause all my bitches exquisite\nI'm in some vintage Givenchy smokin' a Philly\nThe dope that I sell is the purest\nThe junkies they hit it, they scratchin' and itchin'\nThe flow that we killin', the flow that we spittin'\nMy nigga you know we invented it\nDripping in St. Louis, I'm a lunatic\nI'm a Migo but my bitch an immigrant\nI got the boot but no Timberland\nI am the plug, you the middle man\nI never leave my niggas starvin'\nYou niggas mistake me for Marvin\nI got 15 bricks I'm finna drop\nIn there right next to that carbine\nI don't know why I came in this club with you, girl (with you)\nDon't know why I came in with these diamonds on my chain\nSurrounded by bad bitches I can't get 'em out my face\nIs it cause a nigga handsome and wealthy? (wealthy)\nIs it cause a nigga cook like a professor? (professor)\nI don't know how you feel can you tell me? (can you tell me?)\nI won't know how you feel 'til you tell me ('til you tell me)\nIs it cause a nigga handsome and wealthy?\n\nIs it my looks or is it my wealth?\nOr is it the way that I carry myself?\nLet me know I need some help\nDon't keep that secret to yourself\nBitches be saying I'm acting funny cause a young nigga got a lotta money\nShe lookin' at me like she want somethin'\nCan't give her nothin' but a couple hundreds\nShe sucked up on a nigga, tryna give a nigga kisses, baby girl you trippin'\n(I don't know how you feel can you tell me?)\nI know why you came in this club tonight\nLooking for a nigga that's gon' change your life\n\nI don't know why I came in this club with you, girl (with you)\nDon't know why I came in with these diamonds on my chain\nSurrounded by bad bitches I can't get 'em out my face\nIs it cause a nigga handsome and wealthy? (wealthy)\nIs it cause a nigga cook like a professor? (professor)\nI don't know how you feel can you tell me? (can you tell me?)\nI won't know how you feel 'til you tell me ('til you tell me)\nIs it cause a nigga handsome and wealthy?"}
{"text":"Good job, First\n\nGot your ho with me\nI pull her slowly\nSaint Laurent on both my feet\nAll this jewelry, they gon' notice me\nAnd you know I got that Rol' on me\nI pull her slowly\nSaint Laurent on both my feet\nAll this jewelry, they gon' notice me\n\nAyy, I wanna ride, ride, ride on it\nKeep my eyes, eyes, eyes on her\nWanna cry, cry, cry on her\nAyy, I wanna fly, fly, fly on it\nCan I vibe, vibe, vibe on it?\nFox Five, Five, Five on it\nGet live, yeah\n\nAll this jewelry, they gon' notice me (Ayy)\nBirds in the traps singin' like Jodeci\nI tip a bitch 'cause of my courtesy (Tippin')\nThen do a show, pick up my currency (Backend)\nVersace slippers colored burgundy ('Sace)\nRappers be talkin', think they hurtin' me (Uh-uh)\nI took his ho, make her come work for me (Bitch)\nKeep the Draco case an emergency (Grr, grat)\nRidin' 'round the city, sippin' a tea, packin' the heat, niggas that lookin' for me (Lookin' for)\nComin' up watchin' them niggas on TV like they were what I wanted to be (Wanted to)\nNow I'm the one, gettin' paid for it, thank God, it's a blessin' to see (Naw, for real)\nDoin' shows, I'm on stage for it, Saint Laurent on my feet\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nGot your ho with me\nI pull her slowly\nSaint Laurent on both my feet\nAll this jewelry, they gon' notice me\nAnd you know I got that Rol' on me\nI pull her slowly\nSaint Laurent on both my feet\nAll this jewelry, they gon' notice me\n\nAyy, I wanna ride, ride, ride on it\nKeep my eyes, eyes, eyes on her\nWanna cry, cry, cry on her\nAyy, I wanna fly, fly, fly on it\nCan I vibe, vibe, vibe on it?\nFox Five, Five, Five on it\nGet live, yeah\n\nI told that bitch to drop a four for me (Drop a four)\nDrop my top, now I'm exposin' me (Skrrt, skrrt)\nA lot of these rappers gettin' old to me (They kinda old)\nExtortion publishin', you owe it to me (You know you owe)\nI'm droppin' the top and showin' the titties (Drop top)\nRun to the money, we tryna get fitted (Run to the money)\nI clear my mind and I had a vision (I had a vision)\nAnd then I arrive with twenty-five bitches (Then they arrive)\nWe sell out the whole facility\nNot likin' your vibe, your energy (Vibe)\nI came from the pot with Kimberly (Pot)\nShe sniffin' the lines, assembly (Lines)\nWe had a good time in Italy (Time)\nYo, these niggas be lyin' about loyalty (Lyin')\nGet on my knees, prayin' to God to cover me\nGot your ho with me\nI pull her slowly\nSaint Laurent on both my feet\nAll this jewelry, they gon' notice me\nAnd you know I got that Rol' on me\nI pull her slowly\nSaint Laurent on both my feet\nAll this jewelry, they gon' notice me\n\nAyy, I wanna ride, ride, ride on it\nKeep my eyes, eyes, eyes on her\nWanna cry, cry, cry  on her\nAyy, I wanna fly, fly, fly on it\nCan I vibe, vibe, vibe on it?\nFox Five, Five, Five on it\nGet live, yeah\n\nNawfside, yeah\nCan we ride, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble, Cardo Got Wings)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble (Niggas in trouble)\nYou niggas in trouble\n\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nFresh out, outta the bed, count up the deads (Bow, bow)\nWe heard what you said, we heard what you said\nIf I wasn't trappin', I'd be wrappin' up them bundles (Trappin')\nIf I wasn't rappin', I'd be trappin' out the condos (Know I'm sayin')\nNo for real, no cap, my money long like anacondas (Know I'm sayin')\nNo forreal, no cap, I keep a sack like Sapp and Tucker (Sacks)\nIf you think about runnin' with debt then you in trouble (Think about it)\nIf you think about runnin' with debt then you in trouble (Gone)\n\nYou niggas in trouble (Uh), you niggas in trouble (Ayy)\nNo for real, no cap, my money long like anaconda (Uh)\nYou niggas in trouble, you niggas in trouble\nYou niggas in trouble (Oh), you niggas in trouble\nIf you think about runnin' with debt then you in trouble\nYou niggas in trouble (Ooh), you niggas in trouble\n\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads (Fresh out the bed)\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads (Count up the deads)\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nYeah, 2 Chainz!\nGang bang, slang 'caine, heroin, half a ton\nPurple Haze, Cam'ron\nPlays off a Samsung, get the job done\nIf I go jog at night, yeah, call it a mall run\nYou know what I did last night, 'cause I gave her all ones\nYou niggas in trouble, rock chains by the double\nGot dames by the double, do everything but cuddle\nMight buy a bowling alley, I got money out the gutter\nFully automatic, and it don't-don't stutter (Rra!)\n\nYou niggas in trouble, you niggas in trouble\nNo for real, no cap, my money long like anaconda\nYou niggas in trouble, you niggas in trouble\nYou niggas in trouble, you niggas in trouble\nIf you think about runnin' with debt then you in trouble\nYou niggas in trouble, you niggas in trouble\n\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nUh, ooh, fresh out the bed\nUh, ooh, count up the deads\nHop out the bed and I'm countin' them faces\nI jump out the whip and them bitches start faintin'\nNo 20s or 50s, just Benjamin Franklins\nBlock on lock, call me Kurt Angle\nI keep the banger, my brother, my partner\nDon't fuck with no strangers, they tryna get famous\nI put the hood on my back\nWhen these niggas couldn't do nothing but love it\nBut niggas still hated\nNo they ain't real but these niggas gon' fake it\nIf they got a problem, my niggas gon' straighten it\nNiggas debatin', they hatin', they plottin', they waitin'\nThey want my ice, tell 'em come take it\nHave people tell me that I couldn't make it\nNow I'm doin' shows outta state in the nations\nMy momma told me I gotta stay humble\nBut don't be too ready, you gotta have patience\n\nDroppin' them bangers, bangers, bangers\nDouble cup stuffed full Texas Ranger\nOne in the chamber\nI shoot a hundred round clip like Wilt Chamberlain\nGo to the top and I'm gon' bring the gang in\nBitch, do anything to get famous\nMy wrist cost me a brick and it's frigid\nI'm rich, but I did not let it change me\nStatistics say that you niggas ain't gangsta\n\nYou niggas in trouble (Uh), you niggas in trouble (Ayy)\nNo for real, no cap, my money long like anaconda (Uh)\nYou niggas in trouble, you niggas in trouble\nYou niggas in trouble (Oh), you niggas in trouble\nIf you think about runnin' with debt then you in trouble\nYou niggas in trouble (Ooh), you niggas in trouble"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsHannah Montana Lyrics\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nI got molly, I got white\nI got molly, I got white\nI been trappin', trappin', trappin', trappin' all damn night\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nI got molly, I got white\nI got molly, I got white\nI been trappin', trappin', trappin', trappin' all damn night\n\nHannah Montana I'm sellin' them bricks out the Phantom\nGot Hannah Montana I'm drinking the lean out the Fanta\nGlaw, Glaw, Glaw, fuck nigga got anna\nGot your bitch, she white, Hannah Montana in a Panamera\nShe a college girl, but her wrist Katrina\nIn the kitchen, and she bakin' like Anita\nHit the club, diamonds shinin' like I'm drinkin' Margarita\nI'm in London with the plug, gettin' the same car as the Beatles\nGot bricks in the Audi, the Hannah Montana, the molly go crazy\nGot Lizzie McGuire, Got Lindsay Lohan and I can't forget about Katy\nI keep the white like the 80s, I keep the white like I'm Shady\nPut the white rims on the Mercedes, young nigga feel like Pat Swayze\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nI got molly, I got white\nI got molly, I got white\nI been trappin', trappin', trappin', trappin' all damn night\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nI got molly, I got white\nI got molly, I got white\nI been trappin', trappin', trappin', trappin' all damn night\n\nGot your main bitch on the Hannah, she droppin' and poppin' no castles\nI'm smokin' on gas like tobacco, I'm drinkin' on lean taste like Snapple\nIn the V.I.P. rollin' a cord, passin' out mollies to foreigns\nThey poppin' 'em like they some Skittles, 2 bitches one me, Malcolm in the middle\nHop off up in the new Bugatti, cameras flashin' paparazzi\nShe poppin' that capsule, no Nazi\nI'm twistin' the rock like I'm Rocsi\nShe sweatin' like she ran a mile, she soakin' wet she need a towel\nShe suckin' her lip, bitin' down\nShe moanin' and makin' them sounds\nShe came while she suckin' me now\nI'm lookin' at her like damn\nHannah makin' them go bananas\nShe fuckin' and suckin' on camera\nPop a Hannah, she got stamina\nMy jag, still a Panorama\nI'm beatin' the pussy like Michael, I call her Dirty Diana\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nI got molly, I got white\nI got molly, I got white\nI been trappin', trappin', trappin', trappin' all damn night\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nHannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana, Hannah Montana\nI got molly, I got white\nI got molly, I got white\nI been trappin', trappin', trappin', trappin' all damn night"}
{"text":"Ayy-ayy, ayy-ayy, ayy-ayy\nAyy-ayy, ayy-ayy, ayy-ayy\nAyy-ayy, ayy-ayy, ayy-ayy, ooh\n\nWhen I take drugs I go to the Moon (Yeah, Moon)\nLil' spoiled bitch, 2000 on shoes (2000 thou', shoes)\nWalk in the club with one bitch, leave with two (Yeah, plus two)\nBy myself at the top like cocoon (Ayy, top cocoon)\nWhen I'm in the coupe I feel like a cocoon (Skk, skrt, cocoon)\nDesigner gifts red bottoms baboon (Bottoms, ayy, baboon)\nWe the wave, we the wave, typhoon (Wave, ayy, typhoon)\nTake her out of the hills to fuck with some goons (Ayy, out some goons)\nNow she breaking pounds in my room (Pounds)\n\n(Quavo, huh)\nI put the fours on 'em (Fours)\nCame from juggin' with bowl, Homes (Bowls)\nNow look all this rose gold, gold yellow gold, gold, gold on me (Shine)\nYeah mob ties frog eyes (Yeah)\nWhat a time to be alive (Yeah)\nNo neighbors (No)\nHouse on the hill with the acres (Uh)\nDon't date her (No)\nRunning through the squad slave her (Running through)\nI'm the mayor (Mayor)\nPresident Huncho a player (Player)\nTwin chopper Sonic and Tails (Twin chop')\nTwin chopper Sonic and Tails (Twin chop')\nNiggas love when the birds sing (Brrr)\nWhite cocaine Pinky and the Brain (Pinky and the Brain)\nLove when the box hit the mail (Boom)\nI love when the player wanna bail (Bail)\nI hate when a nigga want problems (Problems)\nBut I love to give a nigga shells\nGod protect me from the evil (God)\nTake the squad out to Cheetah's (Squad)\nStreets crawling like beetles (Streets)\nBut the Stanley Steamer keep me cleaner (Steamer)\nYou got it out the mud I got it out the oil\nYou heard the cash prince niggas on Forbes (Ayy)\nI'm the plug, extension cord (Plug)\nGot your favorite model on drugs If you ain't know it (Uh, ayy)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nWhen I take drugs I go to the Moon (Yeah, Moon)\nLil' spoiled bitch, 2000 on shoes (2000 thou', shoes)\nWalk in the club with one bitch, leave with two (Yeah, plus two)\nBy myself at the top like cocoon (Ayy, top cocoon)\nWhen I'm in the coupe I feel like a cocoon (Skk, skrt, cocoon)\nDesigner gifts red bottoms baboon (Bottoms, ayy, baboon)\nWe the wave, we the wave typhoon (Wave, ayy, typhoon)\nTake her out of the hills to fuck with some goons (Ayy, out of here)\nNow she breaking pounds in my room (Pounds)\n\nAy, I ain't tryna save 'em (No)\nMomma said don't let 'em know where you lay at (Momma)\nOld bitches back in the day use to play bad (Bad)\nI'ma pull up flexing in the Maybach (Flex)\nNorthside nigga but we bought the A back (Nawf)\nI'ma beat her mouth up and make her face fat (Ugh)\nHit it from the back-back baby throw it back (Uh)\nHave a heart attack, can you handle that? (Go)\nMaison Margiela dabbin' on everybody (Dab)\nI'm on the codeine moving like a dead body (Codeine)\nBad bitch went to college but she real thotty (Thotty)\nThat's the reason I can't even trust nobody (No)\nCeline and Supreme, I'm the dab daddy (Supreme)\nShe coming home with me when she mad at ya (Mad)\nSucking on me buckling my knees throw a bag at ya\nMolly feel like Hercules when a nigga jab at ya\nHold on wait, hopping in the Wraith\nStars in the ceiling like I'm livin' in outta space\nManeuver like a boss we don't ever leave a trace\nDirty Diana the chopper keep a nigga safe (Rrah)\nFucking on model bitches big booty little waist (Waist)\nI'm putting the money over these bitches any day (Day)\nThis for the people that taking drugs everyday (Yup)\nFuck what they say let the pain go away (Ayy)\nWhen I take drugs I go to the Moon (Yeah, Moon)\nLil' spoiled bitch, 2000 on shoes (2000 thou', shoes)\nWalk in the club with one bitch, leave with two (Yeah, plus two)\nBy myself at the top like cocoon (Ayy, top cocoon)\nWhen I'm in the coupe I feel like a cocoon (Skk, skrt, cocoon)\nDesigner gifts red bottoms baboon (Bottoms, ayy, baboon)\nWe the wave, we the wave, typhoon (Wave, ayy, typhoon)\nTake her out of the hills to fuck with some goons (Ayy, out some goons)\nNow she breaking pounds in my room (Pounds)\n\nCookies, codeine and mushrooms (Shrooms)\nSweep a nigga like I was a broom (Sweep)\nI be going up like a balloon\nChop a nigga with the bamboo in Cancun (Graow)\n20 bitches runnin' 'round nude (Twenty)\nDon't fuck em by the one, I'm fuckin' em by the two (Naw)\nI got water drippin' out my jewels (Water)\nIf it ain't Actavis nigga it ain't approved (Act')\nMigo the gang we will never lose (Eh eh)\nSo many bitches might catch me on Shade room\nGot a pitbull thinking 'bout copping a baboon (Ayy)\nFree all my niggas like a movie they coming soon\nWhen I'm in the coupe I feel like I'm in a cocoon (Coupe)\nTen bitches ready up at the boom-boom room (Boom boom)\nActing the John but I ain't Tune (Ayy)\nTakeoff!\nWhen I take drugs I go to the Moon (Yeah, Moon)\nLil' spoiled bitch, 2000 on shoes (2000 thou', shoes)\nWalk in the club with one bitch, leave with two (Yeah, plus two)\nBy myself at the top like cocoon (Ayy, top cocoon)\nWhen I'm in the coupe I feel like a cocoon (Skk, skrt, cocoon)\nDesigner gifts red bottoms baboon (Bottoms, ayy, baboon)\nWe the wave, we the wave, typhoon (Wave, ayy, typhoon)\nTake her out of the hills to fuck with some goons (Ayy, out some goons)\nNow she breaking pounds in my room (Pounds)"}
{"text":"Buddah bless this beat\nThat's a fool, nah\nYeah, trap shit\nNo, no, no, no, no, no\n\nUp early in the morning trappin' (Trap-trap)\nYou can get 'em how you askin' (Ask)\nHow many chickens? You can get 'em whichever way\nNigga, trap turned Zaxby's (Zax)\nI beat the pot with a passion (Beat it up)\nA hundred acres on the mansion\nI dab in the latest fashion (Eat it up)\nBitches need a call castin' (Yeah)\n\n(*Drinking*) Act (Act!)\nPut the backends in the back (Back)\nDraco on me, it's attached\nName a nigga with the pack (Pack)\nName a nigga with the sack (Sack)\nElem' o'clock, I got the MAC (MAC)\nShe eat the molly like a snack (Eat it up)\nThis gold on my neck a plaque (Plaque)\nBando Shane's Rib Shack (Eat it up)\nRob the plug if he tax (Tax)\nSip the lean and relax (Drink it up)\nPark the Lamb in the back (Skrt, skrt)\nBig dog, you a cat (Cat)\nRich in the matte black (Skrt, skrt)\nTwenty hoes to be exact (Yeah)\nI need ten, that's a dime\nWant a nickel, that's a five (Yeah)\nOne to fly, one to slide\nOne to glide, ain't got time (Yeah)\nPut a thirty on my .9\nFor a nigga out of line (Yeah)\nMama cryin', niggas dyin'\nWonder why I done gripped the fire, yeah\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nUp early in the morning trappin' (Trap-trap)\nYou can get 'em how you askin' (Ask)\nHow many chickens? You can get 'em whichever way\nNigga, trap turned Zaxby's (Zax)\nI beat the pot with a passion (Beat it up)\nA hundred acres on the mansion\nI dab in the latest fashion (Eat it up)\nBitches need a call castin' (Yeah)\n\nBrr, skrr, skrr, skrr, skrr-rr\nPot (Skrr skrr)\nNiggas tried to send a thot (Thot)\nThat's the only way to plot (Plot)\nKlay Thomp', corner shot (Brrr)\nEight-ball, corner pocket (Ayy)\nWhite boys in the game (White)\nCall 'em Andy Milonakis (Yeah)\nHe won't hesitate to shoot 'em (Shoot)\nPrivate jet to Bermuda (Woo)\nI knew I been had sauce (Who)\n'Cause I was fuckin' on my tutor (Who)\nTruck backin' up the dually\nA hundred pounds out the cooler\nCame from a Cup O' Noodles (Ayy)\nI fucked the game, Kama Sutra\nI got M's on my mind\nI got boulders in my time\nPut a model bitch on coco\nTold her \"Read between the lines\" (Coco)\nJ's out there snitchin', yeah\nHeard it through the vine (J's)\nPackin' up the kitchen\nThink I ran out of time, yeah\nUp early in the morning trappin' (Trap-trap)\nYou can get 'em how you askin' (Ask)\nHow many chickens? You can get 'em whichever way\nNigga, trap turned Zaxby's (Zax)\nI beat the pot with a passion (Beat it up)\nA hundred acres on the mansion\nI dab in the latest fashion (Eat it up)\nBitches need a call castin' (Yeah)\n\nWoo woo woo woo woo, packs (Packs)\nI paid the ticket, get you whacked (Brrr)\nI chop the brick with the axe (Hey)\nThe cookie smellin' like a casket (Cookie)\nI'm sellin' crack in my Rafs (Crack)\nPut the addy in the nav (addy)\nHe steady poppin', know it's cap (Cap)\nI hit the jungle, then adapt (Rarr)\n30 thousand on the couch (30 ball!)\nAll my bitches from an app (App)\nInstagram and the Snaps (Snap)\nI bet a hundred on the craps (Craps)\nI'm good on shawty, do without (Ooh)\nShe fucking niggas for the check (Check)\nI'ma only get the mouth\nHop out a Lambo, Corsa on a bitch (Skrt)\nI poured a four, Actavis (Act)\nWalk in Goyard, got a bag for my bitch\nWon't give a kiss 'cause I know you suck dick (Mwah)\nSpent you a hundred, Philippe on your wrist (Patek)\nTwenty-five pointers, one fist (Points)\nTwenty-five bitches on list (Twenty-five)\nKel-tec, rubber band grip (Brrr)\nUp early in the morning trappin' (Trap-trap)\nYou can get 'em how you askin' (Ask)\nHow many chickens? You can get 'em whichever way\nNigga, trap turned Zaxby's (Zax)\nI beat the pot with a passion (Beat it up)\nA hundred acres on the mansion\nI dab in the latest fashion (Eat it up)\nBitches need a call castin' (Yeah)"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsFreak No More Lyrics\nYoung rich nigga, Migo!\n(Honorable C.N.O.T.E.)\nYoung rich nigga! (Quavo!)\n\nShe's a stripper naked dancer but she's begging me to wife her, (No!)\nWhen the first time I met lil' mama she was a one-nighter, (One night!)\nHell nah, I don't love nun' but my money and my rifle, (Money, Glahh!)\nAt the top like Eiffel Tower, I told her to beat it\nYou would have thought she was Michael! (Go!)\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more, (Freak!)\nShe don't wanna take molly, get geeked no more, (Geek!)\nShe don't even wanna strip no more\nShe don't wanna see the pole\nCause young nigga walking straight in with the gold\nI apologize, you know that my niggas they witnessed you naked (Naked!)\nYou want me to tie the knot?\nOh no no no, she must be crazy! (Crazy!)\n\nI know she's a freak (I know that she freakin')\nI know she's a freak (Super freak)\nSo please do not try to run game on me (I'm not a PlayStation)\nPlease do not try to run game on me (I'm not a 360)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nThen she told me (Ugh!) she don't wanna be a freak no more\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more (No more!)\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more\nDon't wanna be freakin', no more\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more\nDon't wanna be freakin'\nDon't wanna be freak no more\n\nOffset!\nShe was 16 when she had a baby, (16!)\nHer baby daddy kept on driving her crazy\nShe wondering how she gon' take care the baby\nShe working at Folly walking around naked\nShe telling me she wanna tie up the knot (Huh?!?)\nI fuck her then kick her right out of the spot (Get out!)\nI don't know what the fuck up with these strippers\nThey don't have a house and don't have a vehicle! (You broke!)\nThese bitches ain't shit I forgot to mention, (Huh?)\nYou cuffing that ho, who you think you tricking?\nSneaking and geeking, I see your eyes, (Geekin'!)\nShe's fucking for money but in denial\nYour daughter be seeing nigga's in and out, (Damn!)\nYour kissing your daughter got dick on your mouth, (Ew!)\nI know she's a freak and I don't have a doubt\nShe's a dirty bitch and I don't have a doubt! (Dirty!)\nI know she's a freak (I know that she freakin')\nI know she's a freak (Super freak)\nSo please do not try to run game on me (I'm not a PlayStation)\nPlease do not try to run game on me (I'm not a 360)\n\nThen she told me (Ugh!) she don't wanna be a freak no more\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more (No more!)\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more\nDon't wanna be freakin', no more\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more\nDon't wanna be freakin'\nDon't wanna be freak no more\n\nI met this bitch, said her name Kimberly\nI met her when I had a show out in Beverly\nSaid, \"What you doing out here in L.A.?\"\nShe on vacation but stripping in Tennessee\nI got her number, asked her what she doing later\nShe said she would hit me on my cellular, (Cellular)\nI knew she was digging my pimping\nAnd new Christian Louboutin's forgot to mention. (Red bottoms!)\nI brought that bitch in my facility\nTold her, \"My favorite room in here's the kitchen, (In the kitchen)\nAfter I whip all these chickens\nI watch you get naked and wash all these dishes\", (Wash all these dishes, bitch!)\nShe licked me, she fucked me, she sucked me\nThen tried to give me a kiss, bitch you tripping (Huh?)\nShe wanna hit my muddy trouble double\nTold that bitch, \"Pour your own muddy trouble\"\nI shouldn't have fucked her, now she's in her feelings, (What?)\nShawty broke down and start telling her business\nI said to lil' mama, \"You tripping\nI don't give a fuck what you did, cause business is business.\" (Business is business!)\nSo now we sitting in my condo, (Top floor!)\nI don't even know what to say no more\nShe's telling me, telling me she don't wanna be a freak no more, but...\nI know she's a freak (I know that she freakin')\nI know she's a freak (Super freak)\nSo please do not try to run game on me (I'm not a PlayStation)\nPlease do not try to run game on me (I'm not a 360)\n\nThen she told me (Ugh!) she don't wanna be a freak no more\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more (No more!)\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more\nDon't wanna be freakin', no more\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more\nShe don't wanna be a freak no more\nDon't wanna be freakin'\nDon't wanna be freak no more"}
{"text":"Buddah bless this beat\n\nAP on me, iced out, tennis chains, iced out (Ice)\nWhole pointers 'round my neck, lookin' like a lighthouse (Shine)\nLil' nigga, pipe down, choppa make ya pipe down\nRunnin' man (Woo), runnin' man (Woo), catch me if you can\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Bad)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Woo)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Bad)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Woo)\n\nHit her for a minute then I pass her to the homie (Pass)\nHit her for a minute then I passed her to the homie (Go)\nI don't wanna see you when I wake up in the mornin' (Nah)\nBad bitches only (Go), bad bitches on me\nHuncho\n\nBad bitches and I know some savage bitches (Bad)\nGet it on they own, they don't have to ask you bitches (Get it)\nPostin' pictures on the 'gram and @ your bitches (Posted)\nSecure the bag, lifestyle real expensive (Secure the bag)\nAll these bad bitches lookin' for attention (Attention-tention)\nThat ain't bad, fake bad, she pretendin' (That ain't bad)\nIf you pay to get in your bag then you winnin' (Winnin', winnin')\nAll these Jones soldier, fuck it, they call me Quincy\nPopped that seal (Pop it), close that deal (Close it)\nWe in the field (Yeah), spread them bills (Woo, ayy)\nLean spill (Goddamn), on that Lear (Phew)\nMaybach seat with the sheers (Curtains), AP shiftin' gears (Gone)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nAP on me, iced out, tennis chains, iced out (Ice)\nWhole pointers 'round my neck, lookin' like a lighthouse (Shine)\nLil' nigga, pipe down, choppa make ya pipe down\nRunnin' man (Woo), runnin' man (Woo), catch me if you can\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Bad)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Woo)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Bad)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Woo)\n\nHit her for a minute then I pass her to the homie (Pass)\nHit her for a minute then I passed her to the homie (Go)\nI don't wanna see you when I wake up in the mornin' (Nah)\nBad bitches only (Woo), bad bitches on me (Woo, woo, woo)\n\nYeah, 38 carats in my bracelets (Carats)\nArgh, Put her on molly she fuck me brazy (Molly, woo)\nWe in the field with sticks like this Arcadia (Pah pah)\nFlippin' the game and you niggas gon' meet your maker (Brrt)\nUh, Goyard, havin' them racks and no regard (Racks, racks)\nUh, walkin' around with a bad bitch, she a barbie (Bad, bad)\nUh, I started my engine, I\u2019m nowhere, where the car is? (Skrrt)\nUh, hopped in the Wraith and she asked me, \u201cWhat the stars is?\u201d (woo, woo)\nEvery month on the third we get to Narcs in (Packs)\nDogs barkin' then kick the door, no narcs in (None)\nLivin' the wild life, think I am Tarzan (Wow)\nI took your broad again, she wanna come with the stars again (Hey, hey)\nAP on me, iced out, tennis chains, iced out (Ice)\nWhole pointers 'round my neck, lookin' like a lighthouse (Shine)\nLil' nigga, pipe down, choppa make ya pipe down\nRunnin' man (Woo), runnin' man (Woo), catch me if you can\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Bad)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Woo)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Bad)\nBad bitches only (Bad), bad bitches on me (Woo)\nTakeoff\n\nBad bitches on me, only bad bitches want me\nHold up, where the bad bitches? Look at all the sad bitches (Sad)\nSay a hundred, do two hundred on the dash, smash nigga (Smash)\nWho want it? 'Cause we run it, ain't no question, ask niggas (Ask)\nBetter punt it on the fourth, 'cause ain't no runnin' past niggas (No)\nMan, we done it, that's important, who you trust to blast with you? (Who?)\nMake it spaz, that's a quarter cash in the caterpillar (Spaz)\nPorsche tags on the nigga ass, I'm a cop killer (Fuck 'em)\nReggie Miller, shoot 'em, bill up, say 'Phillipe' while you say, 'Philip'\nDouble cup, codeine killer, Houston Texas, now who trilla?\nBad bitches in the mirror, told her take the team with her (Bad)\nBet she bring the team with her, bring the blue and green, lookin' at my (Ice)\n\nAP on me, iced out, tennis chains, iced out (Ice)\nWhole pointers 'round my neck, lookin' like a lighthouse (Shine)\nLil' nigga, pipe down, choppa make ya pipe down\nRunnin' man (Woo), runnin' man (Woo), catch me if you can\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Bad)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Woo)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Bad)\nBad bitches only, bad bitches on me (Woo)"}
{"text":"Load up the Drac'\nFuck it, I'm makin' 'em pay\nIt's however niggas wan' take it (Ayy)\nI'm havin' my way, 'Set out here havin' his way\nQua' out here havin' his way, and like\u205fthe\u205fthird\u205fMigo, I take\n(Bitch,\u205fwhat?)\nLoad up the\u205fDrac'\nWhat else are they gonna play?\nThis however niggas wan' take it (Ayy)\nI'm havin' my way, 'Set out here havin' his way\nQua' out here havin' his way, and like the third Migo, I take\n(Bitch, what? Ayy, yeah)\n\nNow that I'm thinkin' it through\nI just ain't fell in love 'cause I'm way too awake\nAnd she tried fuckin' a rapper to break up my heart\nBut my heart doesn't break\nSoon as I link with th\u0435se niggas, they feelings are writt\u0435n all over they face (What?)\nOkay, great, I'm in the backroom of Wally's, I spent thirty thousand on somebody's grapes\nWe done did so many pull-ups on niggas, no wonder we gettin' in shape\nToo busy backin' my words up with actions to ever go front in your face (What? Ayy)\nShit done changed, billionaires talk to me different when they see my paystub from Lucian Grainge\nTold myself that I would get through this verse, and I'm not gonna mention the plane\nBut look at the plane\nThe fuck are we sayin'? (Yeah, what?) Fuck are we sayin'?\nBig '81, but I don't own a Harley\nI ride in Mercedes with Shane (Ayy)\nIt's me and Lil' Harley, we wreckin' this shit\nThen we 'bout to go link with the gang (Ayy)\nAnd unlike that clock on the wall at your mama house\nI do not have time to hang\nPlease don't reach out to me\nThink watchin' too much of Stephen done got to me\nVerses too eas', I'm servin' them up by the threes\nI'm playin' pool and the pool just connects to the beach\nI've been too solid to ever have stripes on my sneak's, you get what I mean?\nBack in the day, my dawgs was puttin' eight balls in the pockets of all of the fiends, and- (What? What?)\nThat was back in the day\nNow we involved in legitimate business\nBaby, we came a long way\nSometimes I hop on the road by myself, and I listen to shit that you say\nAll of y'all havin' more followers than dollars\nAnd that's why I cannot relate (Ayy, no, what?)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nLoad up the Drac'\nWhat else are they gonna play?\nIt's however niggas wan' take it (Ayy)\nI'm havin' my way, 'Set out here havin' his way\nQua' out here havin' his way, and like the third Migo, I take\n(Ooh, what? Ayy)\n\nLoad up the Drac' (Drac')\nMakin' them fuck niggas pay (Yeah)\nStraight out the trap to the play (We gone)\nWho said they ain't havin' they way? (Who?)\nMight have a lil' more on they plate (Eat it up)\nWe havin' our way in three ways (Woo)\nOVO scope on the Drac' (Ugh)\nWe havin' our way (Havin' that shit)\nHavin' my way in the city, get pulled out your britches\nYou talkin' or trippin'?\nGo put all my cleats on, walkin', ain't slippin' (Walk)\nHavin' my way, now this shit like a business\nLoad up the bases, now I feel like Cal Ripken (Ayy)\nShe had it her way, now she out of a Bentley (Skrrt)\n(Skrrt-skrrt, get out, ooh)\n\n(Offset) Fuck how you take it, we straight from the vacant (Hey)\nI caught me some cases, then beat it, then raced it (Hey)\nSeen they was hatin', no communication\nNo invitation, cut off circulation (No)\nBlue or the red Bugatti, this the Matrix\nCrosses all on my body, watch for Satan (Chromes)\nI'm havin', GALLERY, LANVIN\nNo talkin', we smashin' (Smash)\nThis one a classic, ain't none of this average (Classic)\nSniper, I'm snipin' the bitch, I'm assassin (Snipe)\nI piped her, then piped the bitch up for some action (Hey)\nDon't even be braggin', these lil' niggas maggots (Maggots)\nI don't even flex, that shit be on accident\nFell in my lap, hit your bitch on a accident\nI shoot my shot, it's on point, that shit accurate (Bah, ugh)\nLoad up the Drac' (Chk-chk)\nWhat else are they gon' play (Fuck it)\nIt's however niggas wanna take it, ayy (It's up)\nI'm havin' my way (Havin' it), 'Set out here havin' his way ('Set)\nQua' out here havin' his way (Qua'), and like the third Migo, I take\n(What? Ayy, yeah)\n\n(Takeoff)\nI'm shovin' that shit in they face\nThen I go put that boy right in his place\nThey know that I'm havin' my way (Why?)\nI was seventeen on a song with Drake\nIt's like an eviction notice when we droppin' (Get out)\n'Cause niggas get moved out they space (Move)\nTwo and a half, was going on three\nBut fuck it 'cause it's worth the wait (Fuck it)\nNot to be ignorant, but I want everything that's on the menu but what's on your plate (Give me that)\nI talk to God, He give me the faith (God)\nI hit the boy if I need me a Drac' (Brr)\nI got a Richie that sit on my left (Mille)\nBut somehow, I always be pullin' up late (How?)\nAin't been on Earth (No) ever since I copped that rocket chain and took a trip outer space (Go)\nEver since birth, my mama told me (Mama) that they gon' act cool, but they really hate (Hate)\nI know my worth (Worth), so you ain't gettin' no verse if you talkin' 'bout a lil' 'K (Nah)\nMake 'em say church (Amen)\nWhen they see clarity diamonds and stones in my Jesus face\nAin't gotta run 'cause this not a race (Huh-huh-huh, go)\nLoad up the Drac' (Chk-chk)\nWhat else are they gon' play (Fuck it)\nIt's however niggas wanna take it, ayy (It's up)\nI'm havin' my way (Havin' it), 'Set out here havin' his way ('Set)\nQua' out here havin' his way (Qua'), and like the third Migo, I take (Takeoff)"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsBando Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\nShoutout to all my trap niggas\nShoutout my nigga Bo, I'll see you on the other side\n(Trap, trap, trap)\nTrap\n(Trap, trap)\nTrap\nWoah\nTrappin' out the house\n(Trap, trap, trap, woah, woah, woah, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, go)\n\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Trap)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Bando)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Woah)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Whoo)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Whoo, whoo)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Trap-trap-trap)\nTrap, trappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Go)\n\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nGot tools like Rambo (Rambo)\nGot bird like Birdman (Brr)\nGot white like Lindsay Lohan (White)\nMade a hunnid stacks off the pots and pans (Pots)\nOn the corner, servin' grams (Grams)\nMy niggas be on the block hard (Hard)\nMy niggas be servin' that hard (Woah)\nGot bricks like Shaq at the free throw (Bricks, bricks)\nYou can call my phone; got them prices for the L-O (Brrr, brrr)\nDon't knock at my door; I don't wanna talk to you (No, I don't)\nGot them bricks for the L-O; I will serve you (Come shop)\nIn the bando (Bando)\nBoarded up (Boarded up)\nGot them bricks in the wall and in the floor (Got them bricks)\nPizzeria way I'm playin' with the dough\nIf the feds wanna talk, I just tell them, \"I don't know\" (Fuck 12)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Trap)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Bando)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Woah)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Whoo)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Whoo, whoo)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Trap-trap-trap)\nTrap, trappin' out the house (Trap-trap) wit' the boards on the windows (Okay, trap-trap)\n\nTrappin' in a vacant (Trappin')\nServin' all my patients (Trappin')\nGet it from the Haitians (Haitians)\nSmokin' loud, my eye look Asian (I'm Asian)\nGettin' to the money\nRunnin' to it, tryna chase it (Go and get it)\nLike it when she make it (Cook it)\nCook it when she naked (Whip, whip)\nThrow it in the microwave\nBetty Crocker how I bake it (Beep, beep)\nTrappin' in the bando (Bando)\nBig guns like commando (Baow, baow)\nFlip it like a sandal (Flip)\nForeign bitch, she look like J. Lo (Foreign bitch)\nGet a brick from Venezuelo\nMeet the plug; his name is Pedro (Pedro)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Bando)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Woah)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Whoo)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Whoo, whoo)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Trap-trap-trap)\nTrap, trappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Go)\n\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Go)\n\nTrappin' out the house (Trap) wit' the boards on the windows (Trap)\nAll-new Camaro with the black and red interior (Skrrt)\nMigo gang takin' over\u2014yeah, we is superior (Migo)\nCertified packs, nigga; you can check the serial (Gas)\nForeign bad bitch and she say her name Trina (She foreign)\nTraphouse look like it got hit by hurricane Katrina (Junkie)\nThese pounds bought a Bimmer (Skrrt)\nEverything I do illegal (Illegal)\nThe bitches always wanna mingle (They do)\nI'm stackin' my money like pringles (Stack up)\nSippin' on Sprite with codeine (Lean)\nMy foreign bitch Philippine (Woah)\nHer girlfriend Chinese (Woah)\nSipping on lean and poppin' a bean (Whoo)\nDiamonds come from Africa\nSippin' on lean and smokin' loud\nFeel like I'm on salvia (I'm trippin')\nFlippin' the work wit' no spatula (Flip it)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Trap)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Bando)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Woah)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Whoo)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrapped out the bando (Whoo, whoo)\nTrapped out the bando (Bando)\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Trap-trap-trap)\nTrap, trappin' out the house (Trap-trap) wit' the boards on the windows (Go)\n\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrapped out the bando\nTrappin' out the house wit' the boards on the windows (Go)"}
{"text":"Ricky Racks\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nTell me the price\nTell me the price (Yeah, yeah)\nTell me the price (Yeah)\nTell me the price (Yeah, yeah)\nNo surprise\n\nWhat's the price? (Prices, prices, going up)\nWoo! (Prices, prices, price)\nThe bitch bad, I slide (Prices, prices, going up)\nHold on, yeah (Prices, prices, price)\nWhat's the price? (What's the price? Prices going up, prices)\nHold on (Price, going up, yeah)\nThe bitch bad, I slide, skrrt skrrt, skrrt skrrt (Going up)\nHold on (Woo, woo, woo, price)\n\nBad Mona Lisa (Bad), slide with my people\nPink slip for the ride, but what's in the trunk, it's illegal\nCame from dimes, no cosigns\nYou can read between the lines\nLike a pro skater, did my own grinds\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nTell me what the preacher preach about (Preacher)\nTell me what the teacher teach about (Teacher)\nI'ma go find me a better route\nThat bullshit and cap, you can leave it out (Cap)\nThey talking but ain't tryna hear me out\nWon't open the door, tryna leave me out (Open)\nI'ma pull up and just empty out (Brrt)\nCome through, just make sure you clear me out (Brrt)\n\nOoh\nClear me out, clear me out\nJust clear me out, clear me out\n\nWhat's the price? (Prices, prices, going up)\nWoo! (Prices, prices, price)\nThe bitch bad, I slide (Prices, prices, going up)\nHold on, yeah (Prices, prices, price)\nWhat's the price? (What's the price? Prices going up, prices)\nHold on (Price, going up yeah)\nThe bitch bad, I slide, skrrt skrrt, skrrt skrrt (Going up)\nHold on (Woo, woo, woo, price)\nShit goin' up, you know what I mean? Offset!\nI do not care what the tag will say (I don't)\nI done brought out a big bag today (Bag)\nI just pulled up with the MAC today (Brrt)\nI don't plan on going out sad today (Brrt)\nPay what you owe, eighty a show (Eighty)\nClose the curtain and smoke in the Ghost (Gas)\nHop in the i8 and lift up the door (Skrrt)\nYoung rich nigga, more money than the old (Hey)\nGot your ho at the condo, no clothes, yeah (No)\nClimb on a young nigga pole, yeah\nYou don't wanna go there (Nah)\nSticks and the Dracos in here (Brrt)\nGot racks in the back of my pants (Racks)\nGot racks in the bachelor pad (Racks)\nThese bitches, they fuck for a bag (Smash)\nAnd you niggas gon' go out sad\n\nBad Mona Lisa (Bad), slide with my people (Skrrt skrrt)\nPink slip for the ride (Skrrt skrrt), but what's in the trunk, it's illegal\nCame from dimes (Dimes), no cosigns (No cosigns)\nYou can read between the lines\nLike a pro skater, did my own grinds, yeah (Grinds)\n\nWhat's the price? (What's the price? price is going up, prices)\nHold on (Price, going up yeah)\nThe bitch bad, I slide, skrrt skrrt, skrrt skrrt (Going up)\nHold on (Woo, woo, woo, price, yeah!)"}
{"text":"Would you, oooh?\nWould you, oooh?\n\nHey, I know this might sound weird to say (To say)\nBut would you love me if I ran away? (Away)\nI know you probably think I'm insane (Insane)\nAin't nothin' change but the pocket change (Pocket change)\nI know they gotta feel my pain (Feel it)\nI make them birds Lauryn Hill sang (Brr)\nAnd everywhere I go they know my name (And what you claim)\n'Cause I be reppin' gang gang (Gang gang)\n\nPosted with the gang gang (Gang gang)\nPull up wit' the gang gang (Gang gang)\nSuit up wit' the gang gang (Gang gang)\nI be reppin' gang gang (Gang gang)\nI shoot wit' the gang gang (Gang gang)\nBang wit' the gang gang (Gang gang)\nRide out wit' the gang gang (Gang gang)\nAlways rep the gang gang\nAlways rep the gang gang gang gang (Gang)\nAlways rep the gang gang gang gang\nWhole lotta gang shit, gang gang gang (Gang)\nWhole lotta gang shit, (Ayy) gang gang gang yeah\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nShe froze up when that Ghost came (Ghost came)\nBig body Rolls, it be hoggin' up both lanes (Both lanes)\nShe lift her nose up when she want that cocaine (Cocaine)\nI lift my doors up, the Lambo, take propane (Propane)\nAfter my show we put hoes in the chokehold (Chokehold)\nAt the door, we take cell phones, no photos\nMoney comin' in, too much I can't hold, truckload\nI'm hot, I can't be trappin' in the streets, that what the plug fo'\nAnd all I want is nachos (Nachos)\nAnd all I want is Huncho (Huncho)\nPulls strings like a banjo (Banjo)\nAnd the keys, a piano (Piano)\nTake me back to the back door (Back door)\nI can see my foot on a doorknob\nMake it back to the gang, that's the whole job\nChop it up and talk about just what we got\n(Whatcha got? Whatcha got? Whatcha got?)\nWhippin' that Draco (Cold, brr)\nShe said she love me but that's somethin' we'll never know (Never know)\nHonestly, that's all I really wanna know (Wanna know)\nAin't tryna waste my time, it's time to let you go (Let you go)\nAnd get back to that back end on the road\nI can't go out sad about a hoe (Hell no)\nMarried to the money, I propose\nAlways rep the gang gang gang gang\nSuit up with the gang gang\nAlways rep the gang gang gang gang\nI be reppin' gang gang\nWhole lotta gang shit gang gang gang\nHit her with that gang gang\nWhole lotta gang shit gang gang gang\nAlways reppin' gang gang"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsChina Town Lyrics\nBlack shades, Johnny Cage, diamonds go parade (Chirp! Chirp!)\nMotorola in the kitchen, whippin' Sonya\nMy plug look like Pacquiao, his daughter is Kitana\nYoung rich nigga, getting money in Tijuana\nChina Town, China Town, China Town, China Town\nYoung rich nigga, I got plugs out in Ch-China Town\nChina Town, China Town, China Town, China Town\nYoung rich nigga, I got plugs out in Ch-China Town\n\nSellin' that dope to the leems and lames, I pull up and I'm in your lane\nThat droptop that Audi insane, karate that chop on my brain (Ching chong)\nGot a main bitch, no name\nMy main plug, name Fang\nHe choppin' them bricks and remixin' them chickens\nHe front me the work, now I got a ticket\nMy plug came from China, my diamonds Albino\nI got the birds singing like I'm Richie Lionel, I mean Lionel Richie\nFinessing the plug, again I did it, my bitches exquisite\nMy life is expensive, you flexing the rental\nErasing the work, like a No. 2 pencil\nHoes with me, on the left and the right\nI'm feeling like Malcolm, I'm stuck in the middle\nYou a rat in the hood, Stuart Little\nI'm blowing on gas like a fiddle\nYoung nigga in the hood selling nickels, white boys keep the ice Popsicles\nFlip the work, like a acrobat, doing jumping jacks\nJ's sniff the work off the plate, had a heart attack\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nBlack shades, Johnny Cage, diamonds go parade (Chirp! Chirp!)\nMotorola in the kitchen, whippin' Sonya\nMy plug look like Pacquiao, his daughter is Kitana\nYoung rich nigga, getting money in Tijuana\nChina Town, China Town, China Town, China Town\nYoung rich nigga, I got plugs out in Ch-China Town\nChina Town, China Town, China Town, China Town\nYoung rich nigga, I got plugs out in Ch-China Town\n\nWhippin' the coca, no cola\nYou want it, just hit me on my Motorola\nMy diamonds are yellow Corona, I'm selling that Princess Fiona (White, White)\nI'm smoking that gas with Obama\nI pull up in Zondas, you pull up in Hondas\nI laugh at you clowns, Ronald Mcdonald, choppin' a ton of Osama\nMr. Miyagi my plug, I make all the profit, for checkin' his nasi\nI'm feeling like Christopher Wallace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nA-A-All these damn plugs, and young Takeoff I'm the socket\nBeat that pot, Bernard Hopkins, I got flavor Baskin-Robbins\nI'm fuckin' Kitana, you know I got Sonya, for days\nMy diamonds they kick Johnny Cage, Quentin Jackson Rampage\nPlug out in China Town, hit my cell and said he got that shrimp fried rice\nHe drop the prices by the pound in China Town\nBlack shades, Johnny Cage, diamonds go parade(Chirp! Chirp!)\nMotorola in the kitchen, whippin' Sonya\nMy plug look like Pacquiao, his daughter is Kitana\nYoung rich nigga, getting money in Tijuana\nChina Town, China Town, China Town, China Town\nYoung rich nigga, I got plugs out in Ch-China Town\nChina Town, China Town, China Town, China Town\nYoung rich nigga, I got plugs out in Ch-China Town"}
{"text":"They try to play us, they play themselves\n(808 Mafia) This the intro\nFor all you fuckboys that ever doubted the Migos\nYou played yourself! (Another one)\nFuckboy, bow down\nSpin off in the coupe, typhoon (Skrt skrt)\nI act an ass, baboon\nWrappin' that dope, cocoon\nYoung rich nigga in the room\nFinesse a nigga, no raccoon\nSpendin' M&M's in June\nTook a trip to Cancun\nCULTURE album comin' soon (Another one)\n\nYeah, I bought the Benz off the lot\nJust to give your ho a lift\nI'm havin' the sauce in the refrigerator\nJust make sure you bring the chips\nAyy, it's a fuck nigga in the back\nJust look at him, look at him plot\nHe prolly think it's a club light\nBut really it's the red dot\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nFucked a bitch and hit the lot (Lot)\nNigga fumblin' with the pot (Pot)\nI broke my wrist in the pot (Pot)\nHit the block, brought back a knot (Knot)\nJJ Watt is on the block (Woop woop)\nKept me runnin' from the cops (Cops)\nDon't buy the car, we want the lot (Skrt skrt)\nI need everything in stock (Stock)\nAct pints in the attic\nPussy niggas puttin' on an act (Act)\nFucked the bitch and broke her back\nI fucked the bitch and gave her back\nThumbin' through a hundred\nThumbin' through a hundred racks\nKnow you ain't one hundred\nYour chain might get snatched\nI wanna whip up some pies today\nHow many niggas gon' ride today?\nHow many niggas gon' slide and grab on they nine\nWhen I say it's time to slay?\nJump in the crowd and get live today\nHeard you talkin' through the wire today\nI'ma pull up with that fire, aim at his eye\nI bet he gon' die today\nYeah, screw that lil' tip on that dirty lil' Uzi (Yeah)\nI put a seven in a thot coochie (Yeah)\nNiggas get money, don't know how to use it (Yeah, uh)\nI whipped up the babies, Harambe, abused it\n\nDividing you up into stocks\nTired of runnin' from the cops (12)\nPourin' lean on the rocks (Mud)\nMink fur, that's a fox (Vrrt)\nQuarter million in the vault (Quarter K)\nI'ma let the semi talk (Whole K)\nNow he swimmin' with the dolphins (Dolphins)\nPerky got me feelin' nauseous\nDon't come around with the nonsense (Uh-uh)\n\nCULTURE\nHow the fuck you fuckboys ain't gon' act\nLike Migos ain't reppin' the culture?\nThey rep the culture from the streets\nFuckboy, bow down\nCULTURE album soon come\nAnother one\nSpin off in the coupe, typhoon (Skrt skrt)\nI act an ass, baboon\nWrappin' that dope, cocoon\nYoung rich nigga in the room\nFinesse a nigga, no raccoon\nSpendin' M&M's in June\nTook a trip to Cancun\nCULTURE album comin' soon (Another one)"}
{"text":"Yeah, white color sand (Yeah), frost in my hand, yeah (Hand)\nLost in the game (It's lit), ghost, Danny Phantom (Ooh yeah)\nDipped in a trance, yeah (alright), ten in the van, yeah\nOnes make her leap, yeah, shh, not a squeak (Straight up)\n\nCoupe outside (Outside), she say let me ride\nBust down Rollie with the ice (Ice)\nRide 'round the city with a pipe\nWrist frozen (Frozen)\nBlessed, I guess I'm chosen (Chosen)\nHit a lightskin from Oakland\nIn my old school sideshow\nSupersport (Ooh yeah)\nCrash the Porsche (Ooh yeah)\nI was gettin' head (Woah)\nShe was killin' it (Woah)\nCaught an Uber to the dealership (Swerve, swerve, swerve, swerve)\nCash out on some new shit (Woah, look, bitch)\n\nI surround myself with all this loyalty\nSwear to God I'm the one, my girl just might propose to me (I swear)\nClique full of CEO's (O's), none of us got a degree (No, no)\nMade it from the underground, now they back tryna bury me (Bury me)\nI lean, I sway (Woah), with Quay (Vo), and Tay (Koff)\nI give and hardly take, you level up, I levitate\nBitch you a culture (What?), vulture (Woah), poser (Woah)\nHungry for exposure, I'm with my Migos soldiers, gone\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nWhite color sand, yeah (Yeah), frost in my hand, yeah\nLost in the game, yeah, ghost, Danny Phantom (It's lit)\nDipped in a trance, yeah (Alright), ten in the van, yeah\nOnes make her leap, yeah, shh, not a squeak (Straight up)\n\nDrank color pink, dirty bags, wash it clean (Clean, yeah)\nCoupe got wings (Coupe got)\nPosted up with kings (Coupe got wings)\nOn the top like toupee (On top)\nPlay no games, no 2K (No 2K)\nCrap game in the Blue Flame (Crap)\nPull out the coupe like Bruce Wayne (Skrrt skrrt)\n\nPull up the curtains to the Mulsanne (Hey)\nPav\u00e9 my set and clip Blu-ray (Pav\u00e9)\nRun to the bag like Usain (Bag)\nWhen I lay my head down, got two K's (Baow)\nFerrari in Miami Beach (Ferrari)\nI paid one twenty for rose Philippe (Philippe)\nI took her soul for keeps, yeah (Soul)\nBack to back Rolls like Meech (Meech)\nCheck my balance, the cash I'ma double up (Bag)\nP-90, two-three with the monkey nuts (Brrt)\nWhen I look at my wrist it's a hockey puck (Woo)\nWhen I get with a bitch I'ma pipe her up (Hey)\nPour that lean on that ice (Lean)\nLeaving my dreams covered in ice (Dream)\nWedding band rings, ain't no wife\nTryna get the demons out of my sight (Woo)\nNigga, we ain't hiding we straight (Nope)\nI'm talkin' big plate with that steak (Steak)\nNiggas be watchin' out, 'cause they scopin' (Watchin')\nGeeked off of Adderall, they all focused (Acid)\nSipping on Tylenol, having codeine withdrawls\nA nigga must got to be jokin' (Joking)\nDon't want the pack, it ain't potent (Uh)\nLook at wrist, water came from the ocean (Ice)\nI'm laughin', never lackin' (No)\nEverlastin', flipping work like gymnastics (Flippin' it)\nWrappin' it up in the plastic (Wrappin' it)\nSmokin' it up in the ashes (Ashes)\nLookin' and watchin' which ass is gon' be the fattest (Asses)\nI pick the bitch up and smash it\n2018 we don't pass, we trash it\n\nYeah, white color sand, yeah (Yeah), frost in my hand, yeah\nLost in the game, yeah, ghost, Danny Phantom (It's lit)\nDipped in a trance, yeah (Alright), ten in the van, yeah\nOnes make her leap, yeah, shh, not a squeak (Straight up)\n\nDrank color pink, dirty bags, wash it clean (Clean, yeah)\nCoupe got wings (Coupe got)\nPosted up with kings (Coupe got wings)\nOn the top like toupee (On top)\nPlay no games, no 2K (No 2K)\nCrap game in the Blue Flame (Crap)\nPull out the coupe like Bruce Wayne (Skrrt skrrt)"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsPipe It Up Lyrics\n'Know whatchua'll doin?\nBut I'm piped up\nSee that boy right there?\nHe piped up\nM-M-M-Murda\nSee that girl right there?\nShe piped up\n\nPipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh)\nPipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab)\nI walk in the club just to pipe it up (Ay)\nI stand on this stage and I pipe it up (Ay)\nGet a regular ho tell her pipe it up (Ooh)\nGo buy a bando then I pipe it up (Ay)\nPipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh)\nPipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab, ay, ooh)\nI walk in the club just to pipe it up (Ay)\nI stand on this stage and I pipe it up (Ay)\nGet a regular ho tell her pipe it up (Ooh)\nGo buy a bando then I pipe it up (Ay)\n\nQuavo!\nPipe it up, pipe it up, pipe it up (Pipe it up, pipe it up, pipe it up)\nI walk in the club just to pipe it up (I walk in the club just to pipe it up)\nShe was a basic bitch 'til I piped her up (She was a basic bitch)\nI'm just doing my dab, I called it the pipe it up (Dab)\nThey know that I'm having blue Benjamin's (Benjamin's)\nThey know I'm on top of the pyramid\nThey know I'ma go down in Guinness (Know it)\nAll this dab a nigga drippin' (Dab)\nPiped up in the city (Piped up)\nPiped up with yo bitches (Piped up)\nPiped up in Givenchy (Piped up)\nPiped up new edition (Ay)\nWhen a nigga start talking shit, gotta pipe up the ammunition\nYour bitch walkin' around piped up\nWhen she see me, she blowin' kisses\nFeelin' like Aladdin, Quavo the genie\nI grant your ho three wishes (Genie!)\nYou know I do magic, Quavo Houdini\nI touch the pack and get it missin'\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nPipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh)\nPipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab)\nI walk in the club just to pipe it up (Ay)\nI stand on this stage and I pipe it up (Ay)\nGet a regular ho tell her pipe it up (Ooh)\nGo buy a bando then I pipe it up (Ay)\nPipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh)\nPipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab, ay, ooh)\nI walk in the club just to pipe it up (Ay)\nI stand on this stage and I pipe it up (Ay)\nGet a regular ho tell her pipe it up (Ooh)\nGo buy a bando then I pipe it up (Ay)\n\nBroke niggas still saying \"turn it up!\"\nAll my young rich niggas screaming out \"pipe it up!\"\nBenjamins old they extinct like a dinosaur\nLook at yo diamonds, yo diamonds ain't bright enough\nI send the work to get used in a catapult\nPlay with the dope in the snow like a hockey puck\nPipe it up, pipe it up, no Roddy Piper\nThey biting the flow nigga but the Migos got the title\nSo now niggas dabbing, don't know how it happen\nI been touchdown on you niggas ask Madden\nDon't forget bitch I'm the dab daddy\nIn stores now YRN fashion (Yung Rich Nation!)\nPipe it up, bitch it's gon' be the new anthem\nI come through swervin in a black Panamera\nPull out the camo when you see me Christian Louboutin, hopping out that's an animal\nNow remember, fore we made this song, nobody said pipe it up\nNext thing we dropping, we gon' fuck em up, have everybody screaming pipe it up\nPipe it up in the club while I'm on drugs\nA nigga fucking up the furniture\nShoot a money ball like Steve Kerr\nPipe it up, I get them pints on reserve (Actavis)\nPipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh)\nPipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab)\nI walk in the club just to pipe it up (Ay)\nI stand on this stage and I pipe it up (Ay)\nGet a regular ho tell her pipe it up (Ooh)\nGo buy a bando then I pipe it up (Ay)\nPipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Ooh)\nPipe it up (Ooh), pipe it up (Dab), pipe it up (Dab, ay, ooh)\nI walk in the club just to pipe it up (Ay)\nI stand on this stage and I pipe it up (Ay)\nGet a regular ho tell her pipe it up (Ooh)\nGo buy a bando then I pipe it up (Ooh)"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsVersace Lyrics\nVersace, Versace, Medusa head on me like I'm 'Luminati\nI know that you like it, Versace, my neck and my wrist is so sloppy\nVersace, Versace, I love it, Versace the top of my Audi\nMy plug, he John Gotti, he give me the ducks and I know that they're mighty\n(Zaytoven!)\nWoah!\nI mean I just left the Versace store\n\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace\nQuavo! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!\n\nVersace, Versace, Medusa head on me like I'm 'Luminati\nI know that you like it, Versace, my neck and my wrist is so sloppy\nVersace, Versace, I love it, Versace the top of my Audi\nMy plug, he John Gotti, he give me the ducks and I know that they're mighty\nShoes and shirt Versace, your bitch want in on my pockets\nShe ask me why my drawers silk, I told that bitch \"Versace\"\nCheetah print on my sleeve, but I ain't ever been in the jungle\nTry to take my sack, better run with it, nigga don't fumble\nWow, I mean I just left the Versace store\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace\n\nYou can do Truey, I do Versace\nYou copped the Honda, I copped the Mazi\nYou smoke the mid, I smoke exotic\nI set the trend, you niggas copy\nCooking the dope, like I work at Hibachi\nLookin and watching, blow it, hot like some Taki\nCome in my room, my sheet Versace\nWhen i go to sleep, I dream Versace\nMedusa, Medusa, Medusa\nThese niggas, they wishing they knew ya\nThey coppin' the Truey, remixing the Louie\nMy blunts is fat as Rasputia\nIn a striped shirt like I'm Tony the Tiger\nI'm beating the pot, Call me Michael\nLot of you niggas they copy\nLook at my closet Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace\n\nKing of Versace, Medusa my wifey\nMy car is Versace, tiger stripes on my Mazi\nI'm dressing so nice, they can't even copy\nYou think I'm Egyptian, this gold on my body\nMy money my mission, two bitches they kissing\nMy diamonds is pissy, my swag is exquisite\nYoung Offset no preacher, but you niggas listen\nThem blue and white diamonds dey look like the Pistons\nCodeine sippin, Versace I'm gripping them bands in my pocket\nYou know that I'm living\nI'm draped up in gold but no Pharaoh\nRockin' handcuffs, that's Ferragamo\nBricks by the boat, overload\nI'm think I'm the don, but no Rocko\nThis the life that I chose\nBought out the store can't go back no more\nVersace my clothes, while I'm sellin them bows\nVersace took over, it took out my soul\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace, Versace, Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace, Versace\nVersace Versace, Versace Versace"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsWishy Washy Lyrics\n(Cheeze)\n\nYou know these hoes wishy washy (Wishy washy)\nThey'll fuck yo partner (They'll fuck yo partner)\nTake all of yo guala (They'll take yo guala)\nYou know these hoes wishy washy\nThey hop in my bed, they can't wait to open they legs (Open yo legs)\nThey walk in the mall, they can't wait to spend all my bread\nWishy washy (Wishy washy)\nWishy washy, these hoes wishy washy (Go)\nWishy washy, these hoes wishy washy (Wishy washy)\nWishy washy, I cannot trust them\nWishy washy, I cannot love them\nYou gotta watch them, these hoes wishy washy (Quavo)\n\nLet me tell you a story\n'Bout this lil' bitch named Tamara (Lil' story)\nShe'll let you smash for sure today (Smash)\nAnd then smash yo partner tomorrow (Go)\nShe'll ask you can you take care of her\nThat'll cost you 'bout a couple hunnid dollars (Couple hunnid)\nEverybody know lil' mama on go (Go)\nEverybody calling her the gobbler (The gobbler)\nGot hoes on hoes like a roster (Hoes on hoes)\nIs it because of my posture? (Oh)\nBut I know it's cause a nigga dollars\nShe got a baby, no, I'm not the father (No)\nShe too wishy washy, she'll go in yo pocket (Wishy washy)\nAnd break yo wallet and you know she got it (Oh)\nBut I got the knowledge to go tell her stop it\nAnd she shake like a eight hit a corner pocket\nYou cannot play me (No, no)\nYou know you're too wishy washy (Wishy washy)\nKick her out the house politely (Kick her out)\nWe noticed you was too excited\nNo, we not going for it, no, we not going\nYou're too wishy washy, lil' bitch, and you know it (Know it)\nAin't got time for her, kick the lil' bitch out the front door\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nYou know these hoes wishy washy (Wishy washy)\nThey'll fuck yo partner (They'll fuck yo partner)\nTake all of yo guala (They'll take yo guala)\nYou know these hoes wishy washy\nThey hop in my bed, they can't wait to open they legs (Open yo legs)\nThey walk in the mall, they can't wait to spend all my bread\nWishy washy (Wishy washy)\nWishy washy, these hoes wishy washy (Go)\nWishy washy, these hoes wishy washy (Wishy washy)\nWishy washy, I cannot trust them\nWishy washy, I cannot love them\nYou gotta watch them, these hoes wishy washy (Offset)\n\nThese hoes wishy washy (Washy)\nAin't no doubt about it (Doubt it)\nQuick to put yo finger in a young nigga wallet (Wallet)\nAnd I know you fucking my partner (Smash)\nQuick to fuck a nigga for a couple hunna (Hunna)\nHigh class pimping these niggas, she got the formula (Pimping)\nShe sucking my anaconda, got the flower aroma\nAnd on my mama I'm not fucking these bitches without a condom (Go, go)\nWishy washy (Washy)\nCut these bitches off like hibachi\nI'm fucking her and her whole posse (Smash)\nIf you wanna fuck her then you gotta pay deposit (Cash)\nShe giving up her pussy for the profit (Cash)\nHer mama keep begging her to stop it (Stop it)\nShe really wanna be on red carpet (Red carpet)\nThese bitches ain't shit, it's in the Bible (These bitches ain't shit)\nTalking 'bout you got a baby in yo stomach (Huh?)\nThese bitches are funny, they're tryna take a nigga money (Ha)\nI don't got no feelings for no bitches, I'm numbing (Numb)\nUp to par, my swag from London (Swag)\nThese bitches bad, ain't worth nothing (No)\nI'm just saying, I can see yo plan (I see it)\nYou wanna get married to a rich man\nYou know these hoes wishy washy (Wishy washy)\nThey'll fuck yo partner (They'll fuck yo partner)\nTake all of yo guala (They'll take yo guala)\nYou know these hoes wishy washy\nThey hop in my bed, they can't wait to open they legs (Open yo legs)\nThey walk in the mall, they can't wait to spend all my bread\nWishy washy (Wishy washy)\nWishy washy, these hoes wishy washy (Go)\nWishy washy, these hoes wishy washy (Wishy washy)\nWishy washy, I cannot trust them\nWishy washy, I cannot love them\nYou gotta watch them, these hoes wishy washy\n\nI can't fuck with you bitches, you wishy washy (Wash)\nNeiman Marcus shopping, she want me to spoil her rotten (Rotten)\nBut I know that she plotting, mama said don't trust nobody\nThis bitch is a vegetarian, all she want is broccoli (Cash)\nI told her if she knew better, she would prolly do better (Do better)\nThat Rolex is a Sky-Dweller, got gold all on my Margielas (Margielas)\nPulling up in a Bentley, no Mr. Bentley\nShe asking me where my umbrella (Umbrella)\nFox fur, put on my mink, chinchilla\nFlawless diamonds, it's gon' be a cold winter (Burr, burr, burr)\nDon't wanna fuck you, lil' mama, I just want head\nThese bitches, they can't wait to open they legs\nBut soon as she pull in my driveway\nPull up to my front door, she got the panties in her hand\nShe know how to work the pots and pans (Whipping it)\nShe watching me like I'm on demand (Watching me)\nShe the bomb, Osama bin (Osama bin Laden)\nYou know these hoes wishy washy (Wishy washy)\nThey'll fuck yo partner (They'll fuck yo partner)\nTake all of yo guala (They'll take yo guala)\nYou know these hoes wishy washy\nThey hop in my bed, they can't wait to open they legs (Open yo legs)\nThey walk in the mall, they can't wait to spend all my bread\nWishy washy (Wishy washy)\nWishy washy, these hoes wishy washy (Go)\nWishy washy, these hoes wishy washy (Wishy washy)\nWishy washy, I cannot trust them\nWishy washy, I cannot love them\nYou gotta watch them, these hoes wishy washy"}
{"text":"(DJ Durel)\n(Ayy Castro, go crazy)\nYeah, (Soo) we gone (Huh), stop, we good (Stop)\nChill, we on, (Chyeah) scale, let's go (Let's go)\nDomingo (Huh), let's go (Migo)\nTake' (Huh), let\u2019s go (Huh)\n'Set (Huh), let\u2019s roll\n\nStraightenin', straightenin' (Woo)\nStraightenin', yeah (Straight)\nStraightenin', straightenin' (Soo)\nStraightenin', yeah (Straight)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Hey)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Soo)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Straight)\nYou don't get shit straight, you gon' straighten it (Nah)\n\nIn this game, sit back, be patient (Gang)\nNiggas act like the gang went vacant (Huh?)\nNiggas act like som\u0435thing been taken (Took what?)\nAin't nothing but a little bit of straightenin' (I'm t\u0435llin' ya)\nBeen kicking shit, poppin' out daily (Go)\nOn an island, it's a movie I'm making (That\u2019s facts)\nI'm counting dineros with Robert De Niro\nHe telling 'em that Cho amazing (Ayy)\nPut that shit on (Shit on), niggas get shit on (Shit on)\nI bought two whips, and I put my bitch on (Skrrt)\nShe put this wrist on (Wrist)\nShe factory set it with Richard Mille prongs (Ice)\nTurn a pandemic into a bandemic\nYou know that\u2019s the shit that we on (Yessir)\nThem niggas gon' pull up and act like this shit is together\nWe don't fuck with you homes (Fuck 'em)\nUh uh, I don't do the fake kicking (No)\nThere go a rocket, is Take' in it? (Soo)\nIt's a problem with few then we straightenin' it (Straight)\nSwap out the 'Cat, put a Demon in it (Skrrt)\nUpgrade the bando, put fiends in it (Woo)\nI got some shooters you ain't seen with me (Grrah)\nWe'll run that shit back, I just seen Tenet (Woah)\nWe're going to get straightenin'\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nStraightenin', straightenin' (Woo)\nStraightenin', yeah (Straight)\nStraightenin', straightenin' (Soo)\nStraightenin', yeah (Straight)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Hey)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Soo)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Straight)\nYou don't get shit straight, you don't straighten it (Nah)\n(Takeoff)\n\nYou don't get shit straight if you don't straighten it (No)\nI'm the type to sit back and watch patient (Watch)\nDo a trick with the stick, it's amazing (Stick)\nIn the bando trappin' out vacants (Bando)\nLocs on like I'm starring in The Matrix (Matrix)\nI keep the cookie like my grandma made it (Cookie)\nI keep the keys and the pounds and the babies (Keys)\nAnd the bricks came white like Shady (White)\nDrive the Lambo' through the avenue (Skrrt)\nPretty lil bih' with a attitude (Bad)\nGive a shoutout to the white boy (Boys)\nAll white Rolls look radical (Radical)\nKeep you a fire, don't let 'em take it (No)\nIf they get yours you gotta get straightenin' (Straightenin')\nI catch a opp, I give him a facelift (Opp)\nMy niggas lurkin' and spinnin' the day-shift (Lurk)\nI got them racks when you see me (Rackaids)\nSpin back to back, it's a repeat (Spin)\nChampionship, this a three-peat (Three)\nShoot out the window like Drizzy and Freaky (Freak)\nI keep it on me, believe me (Yessir)\nI be up high where the trees be (High)\nI go and put on so much of this ice\nThey said \"Don't touch me, you gon' freeze me\" (Freeze)\nStraightenin', straightenin' (Woo)\nStraightenin', yeah (Straight)\nStraightenin', straightenin' (Soo)\nStraightenin', yeah (Straight)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Hey)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Soo)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Straight)\nYou don't get shit straight, you don't straighten it (Woo, woo, nah)\n(Offset)\n\nGet my straightenin' (Straightenin', get mine)\nAutomatic handgun like the Navy (Automatic, raow)\nI keep a hundred-round drum, I ain't fading (Paow-paow-paow)\nTurn a nigga to a mummy with the payment (Woo, woo)\nTerminate him with the money (Hey!), it was gravy (Terminator)\nSpin an opp block, rock-a-bye-baby (Rock-a-bye)\nMade his heart stop, made his momma hate me (Make 'em hate me)\nWe were trappin' out the spot out the basement (Out the spot)\nTasmanian Devil, we spin on your block (Spin, ouch)\nI pop a Perc' and I'm going berserk (Woah, woah)\nAnd I woke up and bought me a drop (Like fuck it, eugh)\nStraight to the point, I get straight to the straightenin' (Straight, straight)\nYour buddy, he can't even walk (Straight, straight, straight)\nWe gutted up, nobody talk (We gutted up)\nNew Cullinan, stars start to fall (New Cullinan)\nTrappin' and hustlin', beat down the walls (Beat down)\nI'm with the steppa (Grr), Nawfside repper (Nawf)\nQua' keep a MAC in the back of the Tesla (MAC, Qua')\nI'm with the gang (Gang), we could never be selfish (Gang-gang-gang)\nWatch how I dress, I'm the drippin' professor\nSold the Kel-Tec, then I bought a compressor (Kel-Tec)\nTime to press him, eat him for breakfast (Hey)\nTaught him a lesson, I'm never confessing (Hey)\nLeft him a message, somebody stretch him (Stretch)\nStraightenin', straightenin' (Woo)\nStraightenin', yeah (Straight)\nStraightenin', straightenin' (Soo)\nStraightenin', yeah (Straight)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Hey)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Soo)\nDon't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Straight)\nYou don't get shit straight, you don't straighten it (Nah)\n\nStraightenin'\nNo, nothin' get some straightenin' (Soo)\nYeah, don't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin' (Don't nothin' get straightenin' but straightenin')\nYou feel me? (Don't nothin' get straight)\nI don't know what y'all think goin' on out there but know what I mean? (Straightenin')\nWe straight, we straight (Don't nothin' get straight, yeah)\nSoo, soo, soo, soo, soo, soo (Don't nothin' get straight)\nWe gone"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsBrown Paper Bag Lyrics\nZaytoven\nHah (Know what I mean?), pussy\nFuck all these niggas man\nYeah, we havin' this shit too, nigga\nYeah, young nigga havin' this money and shit\nYou know what I'm talkin' 'bout? Yeah, yeah for real\n\nBrown (Brown), paper (Paper), bags (Bags, cash)\nSmashing your hoe on the low and she callin' me dad (Smash, dad, smash)\nCuffing that bitch, when she fucking, you going out sad (Sad, huh, sad)\nI had a dream in the pool I was swimming through cash\nThat's your main bitch? I was fucking her first (Smash)\nGo grab the Margielas, right there with the fur (Hey)\nFlexing on purpose, flexing on purpose (Flex)\nThese bitches went missing when I was just hurtin' (These bitches went missing, where, where?)\nI put your bitch on the Xan then put her on Perkys (Xanny xanny, perky perky)\nThat was a part of the plan, get millions is workin'\n\nOffset!\nI'm 'bout to sign your bitch (Sign her)\nLet me remind ya bitch (Remind ya)\nI am a walkin' lick (Lick)\nBut I am with the shits (I'm with it)\nClick, click, click, click, shoot and I sprung my wrist (Blah)\nMoney is over a bitch (Money)\nGo to the mall in a Bentley (Wrrr)\nMoney is bigger than Winfrey's\nSippin' codeine out a Simply's\nI do not fuck with the enemy (No!)\n30,000 to the dentist\nDrums, thirty extensions (30)\nWe pull up where we got no (Bidness)\nWe fuckin' these stars for fitness\nBankrolls are large, you feel me? (Large)\nI'ma go get me a bag (Bag)\nThey gon' be bitter and mad (Mad)\nThey already know it's a fact (They know)\nGo to the show with a gat\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nBrown (Brown), paper (Paper), bags (Bags, cash)\nSmashing your hoe on the low and she callin' me dad (Smash, dad, smash)\nCuffing that bitch, when she fucking, you going out sad (Sad, huh, sad)\nI had a dream in the pool I was swimming through cash\nThat's your main bitch? I was fucking her first (Smash)\nGo grab the Margielas, right there with the fur (Hey)\nFlexing on purpose, flexing on purpose (Flex)\nThese bitches went missing when I was just hurtin' (These bitches went missing, where, where?)\nI put your bitch on the Xan then put her on Perkys (Xanny xanny, perky perky)\nThat was a part of the plan, get millions is workin'\n\nQuavo\nI put your bitch on Henny, on Henny and Coca (Coca)\nYou saying your wrist is rocky, well I got some boulders (Rocky Balboa)\nIce on my neck, cold shoulder (Ice)\nYou talkin' 'bout modern day rap, but don't know the CULTURE\n50 bands in the motor (Bands)\n12 can't pull me over (Skrr)\nSnowball, think it's polar\nHotline, Motorola (Brrrt)\nFancy bitches, go get the bag, the baddest bitches (Bad)\nAge of 23, I was in the magazine, the Forbes edition (Forbes)\nBrown paper bag (Oh)\nWhen you get it make sure you count your racks (Racks, racks, woo)\nBrown (Brown), paper (Paper), bags (Bags, cash)\nSmashing your hoe on the low and she callin' me dad (Smash, dad, smash)\nCuffing that bitch, when she fucking, you going out sad (Sad, huh, sad)\nI had a dream in the pool I was swimming through cash\nThat's your main bitch? I was fucking her first (Smash)\nGo grab the Margielas, right there with the fur (Hey)\nFlexing on purpose, flexing on purpose (Flex)\nThese bitches went missing when I was just hurtin' (These bitches went missing, where, where?)\nI put your bitch on the Xan then put her on Perkys (Xanny xanny, perky perky)\nThat was a part of the plan, get millions is workin'\n\nBrown paper bag (Bag)\nWad full of cash (Cash)\nPaparazzi flash\nJeweler gave me glass (Splash)\nNever look back at my past\nSip slow and live fast (Actavis)\nI ended up in first place but I swore a nigga started last (I swear)\nI was born empty-handed but a nigga knew I had to get a bag (Knew it)\nI was raised by my mama, so a nigga never really had a dad (Never)\nRemember that lick we had hit? (Yup)\nBroke in and we found the stash (Okay)\n20K right by the stand (20k)\nWrapped up in a brown paper bag (Ah man)\nThat wasn't part of the plan (Had to)\nTake out the tape from the cam (Here)\nNo evidence on who I am (Nah)\n'Cause I can't afford to get jammed (Uh-uh)\nCuffin' bitches, I don't stand 'em (Nobody)\nAll my bitches, yeah, I share 'em (Bitch)\nFuck 'em, but you gotta pay 'em (Pay up)\nBreak the bread up with the fam"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsLook at My Dab Lyrics\nBitch dab, bitch dab\nBitch dab, bitch dab\nBitch dab, bitch dab\nBitch dab, bitch dab\nBitch dab, bitch dab\nDab, dab, dab, dab, dab, dab\n\nLook at my dab (Dab)\nLook at my dab (Bitch, dab)\nLook at my dab (Bitch, dab)\nLook at my dab (Bitch, dab)\nLook at my dab (Bitch, dab)\nLook at my dab (Bitch, dab)\nLook at my dab (Bitch, dab)\nLook at my dab (Bitch, dab)\nGet in there, get in there (Ayy)\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nLook at my dab\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\n(Quavo)\nLook at my dab (Dab)\nEverybody sayin' dab (Dab)\nTrap niggas on the map (Trap)\nTrap niggas like to dab (Trap)\nTrap niggas in the bowl (Uh)\nTrap niggas on the stove (Ayy)\nTrap niggas worldwide (Worldwide)\nPlay with the power with no eyes (Eyes)\nDabbin' goin' in the dictionary (Dab)\nBirds sangin' just like Mary Mary (Brr)\nThe bricks got wings like the tooth fairy (Bricks)\nPinky ring yellow canary (Ring)\nTouchdown on the Pack and I run it like Barry\nMigo like Ed, Edd and Eddy\nYou mad 'bout your hoe but that's petty\nSpray the chopper like confetti\nLook at my dab, got me feelin' like I'm Fab\nLook at my dab, spreadin' dab across the map (Oh)\nI'm dabbin' when I walk up in the trap\nI look at the pot, I'm like \"get in there!\" (Get in there)\nI play with the water need swimwear (Swim)\nLook at my dab, get in there! (Get in there)\n\nLook at my dab, dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nLook at my dab\nGet in there, get in there\nGot me dabbin', Yung Rich Nation gear\nLookin' like I'm not from 'round here\nYoung nigga dabbin' out the atmosphere\nYou niggas still sayin' swag\nMy niggas switched it up we call it dab\nStep out with a light dab I call it a jab\nMichael Jordan I'm perfecting my craft\nNo money counter, count it up with my hands\nYoung nigga, I can show you how to do math\nSippin' on drank and I pour up some muddy\nMy nigga not tryin' to remember my past\nDon't come to my hood if you ain't got a pass\nEat up the dab like linguini and crab\nMr. McMahon, I fire you and your staff\nWatchin' you niggas dabbin' made me laugh (Haha)\nDabbin' is a way of fashion\nTouchdown like I'm Takeoff McFadden\nCall a play like I'm Takeoff John Madden\nShould get a platinum plaque from all this dabbin'\nYou niggas should get a Grammy, the way you actin'\nEnough of that swag I put it in a casket\nLook at my dab, yo bitch droppin' her panties\nI feel fantastic, immaculate dabbin'\nStay off my grass, call me Takeoff Stanley\nLook at my dab, dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nLook at my dab, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nGet in there, get in there, bitch dab\nLook at my dab\n\nSo now niggas dabbin'\nBefore it was swaggin'\nNigga thinkin' that it's just a dance\nWhen dabbin' is a way of fashion\nSee I'm tryin' to teach y'all the rules and regulations\nCause there's a lot of niggas out here perpetrating\nNo temptations, Migos sensation\nSeen a lot of faces, why not make a Young Rich Nation, ayy!"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easNeed It Lyrics\nLet's go\nI'm surrounded by some real niggas (Lil Top)\nHey (Yeah), yessir (They won't do it),\u2005Buddah\u2005Bless this beat\n\nI\u2005said I need it\nThis Draco undefeated\u2005(Rrah)\nHit your block and then I bleed it (Yeah)\nGo long,\u205fthese\u205fbullets,\u205fhe receive it\nI\u205fcan't see it\u205f(I can't)\nMy wrist look like a snow cone, make her eat it (Woah)\nOnce I see her, I give her that dope dick just like it's ether\nThen I leave her, I can't get caught up, I can't be on Cheaters\nThere go them people, you know what it is\nGo put the dope up 'fore they breach us\nBefore they breach us\nI'ma get out this bitch and I'm strikin', I'm throwin' my heater\nWhole lotta money, and still they keep comin'\nForever I'm livin' my life like a bleeder (Slime)\n\nDope boy (Dope)\nI'm straight out the Nawf, I came up sellin' hard (Hard)\nHeroin (Dawg)\nI'm straight from the Nawf, I went, bought me a don (the Nawf)\nI jumped off the porch and went bought me a gun\nWe boardin' the jet 'cause my dawg got a warrant\nWe don't give a fuck, bring the stick, where we goin'?\nI'm booted up off that Molly, I cover my gun\nThis stick got a ELO, my aim on point (On point)\nShootin' that Glock give me pain in my joints (Pew-pew)\nWe shoot a fifty-round drum, honey bun (Bun)\nI want two thousand, I want both of they tongues\nI know how to handle it, bust on my damages\nThese niggas can't run, we gon' peel everyone\nYou know where I'm from, give a fuck how you come\nGot a stick in the car and it sound like a bomb (Boom)\nI came in this bitch with a mil' worth of cash (M)\nLike Bandicoot, we 'bout to crash (Crash)\nNo remorse, I put five to your dash (Bitch)\nOff the porch, bought a Porsche, then I drag\nOff the building, them young niggas slide (Slide)\nPut up 30, now you do the math (Fool)\nIf you seek on my son, I won't hide (I won't hide)\nBullets rain, we give him a bath\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI said I need it (Ha)\nThis Draco undefeated (Rrah)\nHit your block and then I bleed it (Yeah)\nGo long, these bullets, he receive it\nI can't see it (I can't)\nMy wrist look like a snow cone, make her eat it (Woah)\nOnce I see her, I give her that dope dick just like it's ether\nThen I leave her, I can't get caught up, I can't be on Cheaters\nThere go them people, you know what it is\nGo put the dope up 'fore they breach us\nBefore they breach us\nI'ma get out this bitch and I'm strikin', I'm throwin' my heater\nWhole lotta money, and still they keep comin'\nForever I'm livin' my life like a bleeder\n\nFrom the bando to bandit, we makin' it happen\nI like a bitch bougie but keep me a ratchet\nWinning's fantastic, Cartiers straight out the plastic\nDiamonds in all of my glasses (Chill)\nI'm fuckin' more bitches than Magic\nStraight out the basket, they say them young niggas havin' (Hey)\nThe money too old, it's growin' maggots, nasty\nFinger-fuck it with the Magnum (MAG)\nI'm thinkin' they forgot the way we paved\nWe been givin' too many niggas these passes (Too many)\nFuck it, drop a bag and cash it (Fuck it)\nWho gonna press 'em the fastest? (Who?)\nExtendo barrel elastic, new attachment, shit get tactic (Tactical)\nThey stole the flow (Go), now they tryna run off with the fashion\nMy neck, I freeze it (Ice), just give us the reason\nMake that smoke look easy (Ooh-ooh, easy, woo)\nCouple blue hunnids with the stones, it's bleedin' (Cash, bleedin')\nWhat's your issue? (Woo) If you got a trigger, just squeeze it (Bah, squeeze it, bah, squeeze it)\nWhole block outside, it's a street fest\nAin't no peace treaty (Nah)\nThese stones around my Jesus, they ain't treated (No)\nThey got me heated (Hot)\nDon't play with the gang (Ooh-ooh), they know that we be undefeated\nI get to squeezin' (I get to squeezin')\nWhen we talkin' beef, they say that they vegan\nJumpin', no reason (Jumpin', no reason, woo)\nWe coppin' more ice and tuck in the freezer (Ice)\nI said I need it\nThis Draco undefeated (Rrah)\nHit your block and then I bleed it (Yeah)\nGo long, these bullets, he receive it (Oh-oh)\nI can't see it (I can't)\nMy wrist look like a snow cone (Oh-oh), make her eat it\nOnce I see her, I give her that dope dick just like it's ether (Oh-oh)\nThen I leave her, I can't get caught up, I can't be on Cheaters\nThere go them people (Them people), you know what it is\nGo put the dope up 'fore they breach us\nBefore they breach us\nI'ma get out this bitch and I'm strikin', I'm throwin' my heater\nWhole lotta money, and still they keep comin'\nForever I'm livin' my life like a bleeder (Slime)"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsCommando Lyrics\n(De-De-De-Deko)\nThey said it was called the trap\n(OG Parker)\nBut on the Northside, we call it the bando\nYou ain't know\nNah, for real\n\nAll my niggas turn to Rambo or commando (Grah)\nWe the first ones that came up with the bando (Bando)\nTalkin' 'bout you got the Act', but what it goin' for? (Act')\nI'm 'bout to start extortin' niggas for that Migo flow (Ayy)\nWe the ones that really came in with the kickin' doors (Boom)\nSame niggas brought Versace to the centerfold ('Sace)\nTake off on the plug, I hit him with the finger roll\nIf you can buy the car, then why the fuck you rent it for? (Bitch)\nAll of my niggas, they ready to get you and hit you and split you and never leave no witness to see you\nAnd if you thinkin' 'bout calling your mommy, your daddy, your brother, your sister, that chopper hit you, havin' a seizure (Ayy)\nI been teachin' niggas lingo like I'm a teacher\nMamacita, she lookin' like a picture of Mona Lisa\nFucked 'em up with the dab, so we goin' up on the feature\nAll of my bitches, they piped up and conceited (Take-Take-Take-Takeoff)\n\nAll rose gold on, call it Rose Bowl (Rose)\nI got the key, unlockin' the game like a cheat code (Cheat)\nFuck a bad bitch, I'm fuckin' with the fleek hoes (Fleek)\nAnd I'd never give my soul up for a bankroll (Nah)\nNiggas get lucky, standin' right there by that rainbow (Leprechaun)\nNo rain, though, I'm in a Yung Rich Nation raincoat (Rain)\nGood aim, though, that red dot up at your Kangol (B-b-baow)\nLookin' in my DM and I see your main ho (Ayy)\nYou know we the ones that came up with the bando (You know)\nThem boys talkin' 'bout the boards on the windows (Bando)\nWhen you trappin', keep a shooter at the front door\nFuck, twelve, runnin' out the back door (Ayy)\nThe ring on my pinky is bigger than a globe (Woah)\nSkippa Da Flippa done flipped a nigga, never fold (Flippa)\nPipin' up in front of your bitch, you get elbowed (Baow)\nPing pong, hit a nigga with the ring on (Ayy)\nYung Rich Nation jeans on, this your theme song (Huh?)\nSo many pints in my crib, it's a lean home (Lean)\nI'm so high, I just need a wall to lean on\nPhone home, get so stoned when we gone (Stoned)\nCookie smoke in the ozone, wrist snow cone (Ice)\nMink, it cost five, I leave the coat on (Mink)\nBig Tymer, get your roll on (Rollie)\nChop a nigga with the Ric Flair robe on, hold on (Hold on)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nAll my niggas turn to Rambo or commando (Grah)\nWe the first ones that came up with the bando (Bando)\nTalkin' 'bout you got the Act', but what it goin' for? (Act')\nI'm 'bout to start extortin' niggas for that Migo flow (Ayy)\nWe the ones that really came in with the kickin' doors (Boom)\nSame niggas brought Versace to the centerfold ('Sace)\nTake off on the plug, I hit him with the finger roll\nIf you can buy the car, then why the fuck you rent it for? (Bitch)\nAll of my niggas, they ready to get you and hit you and split you and never leave no witness to see you\nAnd if you thinkin' 'bout calling your mommy, your daddy, your brother, your sister, that chopper hit you, havin' a seizure (Ayy)\nI been teachin' niggas lingo like I'm a teacher\nMamacita, she lookin' like a picture of Mona Lisa\nFucked 'em up with the dab, so we goin' up on the feature\nAll of my bitches, they piped up and conceited\n\nOffset\nSemi-automatic out the window of the Caddy (Graow)\nI know this shit is tragic, toss your bitch up like a salad (Smash)\nWalk up in the mansion, I just made a money pallet (Mansion)\nTrappin' out that bando, selling crack up in the alley (Crack)\nI send my young niggas, act a fool with the tool (Baow)\nContemplating should I drop a four or drop a deuce?\nHeard you a real slick lookin' for a good lick (Lick)\nBut my niggas ain't goin' for the bullshit (Naw)\nI got the stick, nigga, don't trip (Bah)\nNiggas run up in your house, they tyin' up your bitch (Grrat)\nBoot up that bitch in the morning on grits (Boot)\nJ's at the bando in the morning, got a fix (J's)\nI'm sitting on the pedestal, my diamonds look impeccable (Shine)\nYour bitch sucking my dick just like an edible (Ugh)\nMake her take a physical like medical (Physical)\nFuckin' bitches overseas like it's America (Ayy)\nYou niggas don't even know I got some pain in me (Pain in me)\nMissin' my grandma, wish she could sing to me (Grandma)\nA lot of dirt I did, I got some shame in it (Ah)\nWhen I'm pulling up, I drop the brain on it (Skrrt)\nCame in the game with the fashion statement (Hah)\nWe dropped \"Versace,\" the fame, it came quick ('Sace)\nGotta stay focused, consistent, don't quit (Ayy)\nBrick on my wrist and it make me a lick (Damn)\nAll my niggas turn to Rambo or commando (Grah)\nWe the first ones that came up with the bando (Bando)\nTalkin' 'bout you got the Act', but what it goin' for? (Act')\nI'm 'bout to start extortin' niggas for that Migo flow (Ayy)\nWe the ones that really came in with the kickin' doors (Boom)\nSame niggas brought Versace to the centerfold ('Sace)\nTake off on the plug, I hit him with the finger roll\nIf you can buy the car, then why the fuck you rent it for? (Bitch)\nAll of my niggas, they ready to get you and hit you and split you and never leave no witness to see you\nAnd if you thinkin' 'bout calling your mommy, your daddy, your brother, your sister, that chopper hit you, havin' a seizure (Ayy)\nI been teachin' niggas lingo like I'm a teacher\nMamacita, she lookin' like a picture of Mona Lisa\nFucked 'em up with the dab, so we goin' up on the feature\nAll of my bitches, they piped up and conceited\n\nYeah, yeah, Quavo\nThe way they took a nigga dab, I wanna smack a nigga (Baow)\nKnock a nigga's lights out, Uncle Wack a nigga (Wack 100)\nThese niggas made out of plastic like an action figure (Plastic)\nI can't kick it with your bitch, I ain't no Falcon's kicker (Naw)\nYoung nigga in the hood eating Honey-sicles (Ugh)\nI'ma send your ho a text with the purple pickle (Ho)\nNigga, I ain't gotta flex, I'm a real nigga (Naw)\nI know niggas in the bando still trappin' nickels (Uh)\nPop a Perc', you think I'm Marshawn eating Skittles (Perky)\nEverybody still comparing Migos to the Beatles (Everybody)\nWho the fuck you think you scarin' with that lil' nina? (Who?)\nCall my niggas and they pulling up like Al-Qeeda (Ayy)\nDamn, I mean Al-Qaeda, spray 'em like a firefighter\nFor fuckin' with the albino, feeling like Mekhi Phifer\nNiggas having ghostwriters, stripes like I'm Tony Tiger\nMigo gang the three igniters, then they try to doubt us (Ayy)\nI know you remember the Titans (Titans)\nYou know we got that touch like we work for Midas (Midas)\nLike my cookie with the purple in it like the Vikings (Woo)\nCame from a long road, you the one that saw us hitchhiking (That's you?)\nI pour a glass of water 'cause she wanna pop a Vicodin (Water)\nI open up the door, she said, \"Damn, my mans, you're frightening\" (Woah)\nSpikes on my shoe, yeah, I'm Christian Loub, Mike-in' it (Spikes)\nWhere's Quavo? Bitch, I'm in another continent"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsCan\u2019t Go Out Sad Lyrics\nYeah\nTalk to me\nSee this day and age, these young niggas getting paid\n\nWrist clear, Sprite, yuh\nMike Tyson bite, yuh\nCup real dirty, yuh\nMotocross bike, yuh\nWe don't fist fight\nChopper real light\nDouble seal tight\nThis drank got me right\nPiccolo green it's millions, and the old money got mildew\nKick her out 'cause she keep filming\nThey calling me Bob the Builder\nQuavo Paul Pierce em', whip a ball, Wilson\nPut my all in that bowl, put my all in it\nI want all my dogs to win it\nI want all my dogs to win it\nRemember my dog was sentenced\nNo, no, I ain't gon' take it back to the beginning\nJust get in the Benz and sit in\n(Talk to em'!)\nC'mon (Ay!)\n(Get in there!)\n(Chill!)\n(C'mon!)\nStanding in the trap, been a long day\nThinking bout putting insurance on my wrist and AK\nMama tired, daddy died, ain't no Real Housewives\nNow it's no more crying 'cause we upper echelon\nI can make a Tuesday, go up like a Saturday\nI don't play where you fools play, you must be from out of state\nMolly your girl dinner plate, you take her on dinner dates\nDabbing in Raf Simmons, yeah I dress the huncho everyday\nRicki Lake, wrapped up, came from Kuwait\nEvery day, every day, young nigga looking for bae\nGot a bitch on Jimmy and she do whatever huncho say\nHer boyfriend wanna be me cause I keep that shit the gangster way\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI got to put you down\nAy man, these niggas goin' out sad\nI'm tellin' ya, can't go out bad\nNaw, 'specially bout that bitch\n\nI'm not goin' out sad\nI'm not goin' out sad\nI'm not goin' out sad\n'Specially bout that bitch\nI can't go out sad\nI can't go out sad\nI can't go out sad\n'Specially bout that bitch\n\n(Offset!)\nNot 'bout the bitch, naw, not 'bout the bitch\nShe call just for the dick\nAw, lord, don't say this your bitch\nI'm young and rich\nBut I can strong arm a brick\nI heard you was born a bitch\nRick Owens, they cost your rent\nPay up, straight up\nTold John Wic got to pick the K up\nI'ma smash ya but we don't lay up\nI'm a bachelor, get ya weight up\nFrom the nawf, bitch you know where we from\nThink it's sweet and we pull out a drum\nYou can be rich and a bum\nI want it all, not some\nShe fucking for fame, for some'\nI think she came for money\nI swear I ain't hurting for nothing\nSo I just gave her the money\nHoes in my house like Hugh Heffner\nBut I'mma slay the bunnies\nShe goin' insane, she talk' bout my main\nQuit sayin' my name lil' mama\nI got to put you down\nAy man, these niggas goin' out sad\nI'm tellin' ya, can't go out bad\nNaw, 'specially bout that bitch\n\nI'm not goin' out sad\nI'm not goin' out sad\nI'm not goin' out sad\n'Specially bout that bitch\nI can't go out sad\nI can't go out sad\nI can't go out sad\n'Specially bout that bitch\n\n(Takeoff!)\nI can't, go out, sad about no bitch\nWho me? Takeoff never mad about no bitch\nDepressed, need to get some' off my chest\nAin't stressed about that bitch\nShe let, me nut on her chest, you still arrest that bitch\nBad, yeah lil' mama bad, you let her get the Jag and crash\nThat's goin' out sad\nYou took on her on a date with dad\nThe question is boy did you smash?\nBeen strong a week and a half\nAnd everything you get to give that bitch half (tricked you)\nAw man, goddamn, these niggas goin' out sad\nWifin' ho's up, there's not one nigga the hood done been had\nSmash, cuff, but you can pass, ignore but can't erase the past\nShe fool you once, shame on her, if she fool you twice it's yo ass\nI got to put you down\nAy man, these niggas goin' out sad\nI'm tellin' ya, can't go out bad\nNaw, 'specially bout that bitch\n\nI'm not goin' out sad\nI'm not goin' out sad\nI'm not goin' out sad\n'Specially bout that bitch\nI can't go out sad\nI can't go out sad\nI can't go out sad\n'Specially bout that bitch"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsCross the Country Lyrics\nIt's been a long time coming\nFrom young niggas to young rich niggas\nIt's DJ Durel and I'd like to welcome you to Rich Nigga Timeline\n\nYoung rich nigga riding round the city with the mac\nTake a chopper, and a chicken, now watch the leakin' (ba-bow)\nWhipping and breaking it, making it, taking it\nNigga they mistake me, think I'm selling that midget (nah, for real)\nWhat the fuck a nigga really wanna talk about? (Shit)\nYou a bitch, we ain't got nothing to talk about\nShaking like a stripper, put that mac chicken up in his mouth\nSkippa Da Flippa, he told me weigh it up and bust it down\nMigo Jerz, whipping that lambo, now watch it swerve\nTray 1 got PT's, and sold that reserved\nI'm a hot boy, so you know I gotta stay low (hot)\nQuavo told me, trap on the block and bang 'em like OJ Mayo\nYou niggas are rookie but young Takeoff, I'm a vet (vet)\n'Set told me trapping and dabbing gon' get that pussy wet\nNo Crocodile Dundee, Stingray vet\nWhatever I wanna do, I do it, Nike check (do it)\nI'm a young nigga with the rich nigga ambitions\nAt the Migo show, a nigga autographing titties\nThere's levels to this shit like Meek said\nAnd you embarrassed to admit it, I don't want to kick it\nAfter my show, the gangster-ist nigga, he looking suspicious\nWalk right up on him, I'm pressing my nigga\nAnd all he wanted was a picture\nI used to smoke Swishers like a regular nigga\nNow I'm a Backwoods type of nigga\nA nigga, he ran up, tried to rob, I shot him\nWhite people, they still treat me like I'm a victim\nNow people they screaming out \"Free Actavis\"\nThey talking bout that Actavis be discontinued\nCheck my cup of muddy trouble, got packs in the attic\nCatch me riding with packs in my rental\nTrap, trap dab when I'm on the revenue\nCooking a brick and remix it with the dog food\nDiamond brick come with a note on it, nigga you Blues Clues\n24 karat my chain, Mr. T, pity the fool\nMaster P, No Limit money, bando jumping like a bungee\nKevin Hart, your money is too short, you too funny\nCall me Takeoff Hugh Hefner, I got Playboy bunnies\nFuck it, I beat it, she sucking me 'til a nigga be cumming\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nCross the country, cross the country\nYou may never been there, catch me cross the country\nCross the country, cross the country\nCoca leaves and palm trees, we cross the country\nCross the country, cross the country\nShe don't understand English but she want me\nCross the country, cross the country\nI had to get a Visa cause I'm in and out the country\n\nWhen you in the streets, you know you gotta make a name\nI stole a Mustang, drop top, no brain\nPolice had a nigga, cause they know I'm in a gang\nTaking pictures of a nigga like a groupie, like a fan\nOn my first lick, only got a little bit of change\nThinking like Obama, something gotta change\nDid a lot of dirt, I had to sit up in the chains\nWhen I got outta jail, did the same thing\nI spent that money, money, coming back like boomerang\nCocaine in her nose like a septum ring\nMy niggas be trapping the gas, propane\nHit the nigga with a chopper, nigga bang bang\nI was getting money, way before the rap game\nAs a young nigga, used to wear the fake chain\nThey say that I'm ignorant, $50,000 on a chain\nYou know it ain't come from Johnny Dang\nFake watch busta can't bust me, no lie\nWon't catch me with the fake jewelry, I got too much pride\nThey killed my nigga Pistol P for a three-five\nI pay the ticket, when are you gon' die\nWhen I'm in the kitchen, I be cooking crack pies\nI got chickens in the trunk, you think I work at Popeyes\nThe streets is the jungle, my nigga, you better survive\nGetting married to the money nigga, that my bride\nMy diamonds gon' shine, might poke you in the eye\nYou selling by the ounce, my nigga, you just getting by\nPut the birds in my hands, knows when's it gon' fly\nGlah! Glah! Glah! In the bushes like a spy\nNigga talking stupid, we don't let that shit fly\nTalking crazy to the Migos, boy you know we keep the fire\nGot that chopper, flip a nigga like a domino\nYoung rich nigga, never made the honor roll\nHit his ass with the .44, make him fold\nChattahoochee River where that nigga body float\nOn the nation, my nigga we throwing up the forks\nShe on a mission, trying to fuck me, better get your ho\nBig bank take little bank\nYellow diamonds on my rella like a moon cake\nTwo Glocks on my hip like Tomb Raider\nArnold Schwarzenegger turn into the Terminator\nCross the country, cross the country\nYou may never been there, catch me cross the country\nCross the country, cross the country\nCoca leaves and palm trees, we cross the country\nCross the country, cross the country\nShe don't understand English but she want me\nCross the country, cross the country\nI had to get a Visa cause I'm in and out the country\n\nCross the country, my plug he in Wyoming\nAnd the only time I pull up on you, if a nigga owe me\nAnd the whole word know that a young nigga rap\nBut a pussy nigga better not provoke me\nCame in the game with the formula, sold it\nNow I gotta switch it up on you phonies\nPocket full of macaroni, Mac-11, run up on you\nAll you can eat in my trap like it's Shoney's\nRich Nigga Timeline: that's my motherfucking testimony\nOut in the desert, got bricks in the donkey\nRich nigga with a pot of gold like a leprechaun\nAnd I'm thinking 'bout moving to Babylon\nMy niggas collecting extortion funds\nWe built an empire like Megatron\nQC the label, Migo the gang\nAlready told you, I want the M&Ms, fuck the fame\nNo shame in the game, I'm a bull with the nine\nLike Luol Deng, finna bang with the thing\nWalking through the crowd, ain't gotta tuck the chain\nGet juuged,  get capped, that's a part of the game, squad shit\nOh no, I done rolled around the block and I don't see him\nI paid a J $200 just to hit me when he see him\nIf I was you right now, I wouldn't wanna be him\nCaught him two weeks later in the club, with his mamacita\nHe had some jewelry on him, worth $100 so I took it from him\nTook the first PJ across the country, got too hot for a moment\nThey say he got work, now I own it\nNow my squad, they going up, no Makonnen\nIn the players pad at the Caesar's Palace\nOut in Las Vegas, like I'm Roman\nAll types of Euros and Yen\nI got money in Berlin\nI told the Lord forgive me for my sins\nCause I don't wanna do it again\nCross the country, cross the country\nYou may never been there, catch me cross the country\nCross the country, cross the country\nCoca leaves and palm trees, we cross the country\nCross the country, cross the country\nShe don't understand English but she want me\nCross the country, cross the country\nI had to get a Visa cause I'm in and out the country"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsDab of Ranch Lyrics\nYou know\nYou woke up and you don\u2019t know what to do\n(DJ Durel)\nAnd you a little hungry\nRap snacks with a dab of ranch\nIt\u2019s just for you\nFor you (Ayy, woo)\n\nWith a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWe can make it happen (Ooh, woo, ayy)\nGet your rap snacks (Rap snacks)\nWe can make it snappin' (Snappin', ooh)\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWe can make it happen  (Ooh, woop, ayy)\nGet your rap snacks (Rap snacks)\nWe can make it snappin' (Snappin', woo)\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch (Rap snacks)\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch (Woo)\nWith a dab of ranch (Dab)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nQuavo\nMoney like bags of chips (Chips)\nHunnits of bags I flip (Flip it)\nFinger-licking with the ranch (Finger-licking)\nLeaving crumbs on your lips (Woo)\nTruckload backin' up (Beep)\nNew shipment, gotta stack 'em up (Stack 'em up, Takeoff)\nBag look magical\nMmm, mmm, mmm, good they smackable (Yuh)\nNumber one record, the chip breaking record so add it up (Yeah)\nTrappin' 'em out the gas stations\nCustomers, customers lined up (Just for you)\nI heard that you hungry (I heard that you) and you make your mind up (You make your mind up)\nDon't grab a Snickers (Don't grab a Snickers) and go get a bag of 'em (Just for you)\nBag of what? (Bag of huh?) Dab of Ranch (Just for you)\nWhat's with the ranch? (What's with the?), just a lil' dab (Just for you)\nJust give me a bag (Just get me some, yeah)\n'Cause I'm 'bout to smash (I'm 'bout to smash)\nGive me some out that bag (Give me some)\nJust get your own, you'll be glad (Damn)\n\nWith a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWe can make it happen (Ooh, woo, ayy)\nGet your rap snacks (Rap snacks)\nWe can make it snappin' (Snappin', ooh)\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWe can make it happen  (Ooh, woop, ayy)\nGet your rap snacks (Rap snacks)\nWe can make it snappin' (Snappin', woo)\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch (Dab, rap snacks)\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch (Woo, woo, woo)\nWith a dab of ranch (Dab)\nOffset\nGet your rap snacks with a dab of ranch (Dab)\nIf there ain\u2019t no more call the ambulance (No)\nSee all of these flavors gon' make you dance (Flavors)\nMy face on the chips take her out her pants (Ooh)\nMy chips are worldwide, that's a lot of land (Woo)\nIt\u2019s tasting too good it is out of hand (Woo)\nWhen I\u2019m done with the bag I\u2019m gone lick my hand (Dab)\nI sign a few bags give 'em to the fans (Yeah)\nSour cream with a dab of ranch (Sour)\nTaste buds had a heart attack (Ooh)\nEmergency call the ambulance (Woop woop)\nI done ran outta snacks (No)\nFor the love of me, get your rap snacks (Love)\nGet your whole hood all on that (Hood)\nFirst bag on me, get your rap snacks (Rap snacks)\nGet ya whole hood all on that (Hey)\n\nDab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWith a dab of ranch\nWhen you get a little hungry (Yeah)\nDon\u2019t panic (Yeah)\nJust dab and ranch it (Yeah)\nWhen you get a little hungry\nDon\u2019t panic\nJust dab and ranch it (Yeah)"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsAntidope Lyrics\nWhat-you-want\nMi-go!\nNo, no, no\nMigo!\nGo!\n\nCall me what you want but you can't call me broke (money)\nPull up with that choppa and a telescope\nGot 50 chickens in with me, runnin' around in my city\nYoung rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys, rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys\nWe makin' a motion picture (movie), Michelangelo (movie)\nI'm seein' the snakes in the grass - shhh!\nI got the antidope, antidope, antidope, antidope\nAntidope, antidope, antidope, antidope\n\nYo, Quavo\nI got the antidope try to come juuggin' and I'm bustin' your cantaloupe\nI'm trappin' out of the bando, still got tools like Rambo (bando)\nI'm feelin' like Harry Houdini (Houdini)\nThe pack was just here did you see it\nThe plug he be here any second now (plug)\nIf he didn't then something went down (fuck, what?)\nWe losing our bags, gotta go to the stash (huh?)\nAt the age of 19, I was running from the task\nPut it on my mama (mama!), no flex, no brag\nYoung nigga been had cash\nJust me and Rel Money got rich off a half a bag\nThat's why they mad\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nCall me what you want but you can't call me broke (money)\nPull up with that choppa and a telescope\nGot 50 chickens in with me, runnin' around in my city\nYoung rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys, rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys\nWe makin' a motion picture (movie), Michelangelo (movie)\nI'm seein' the snakes in the grass - shhh!\nI got the antidope, antidope, antidope, antidope\nAntidope, antidope, antidope, antidope\n\nI got the antidope\nI'm feelin' like Scarface, Al Pacino comin' off a banana boat\nAnd how the fuck 200 Migo touchin' down in Mexico\nFuckin' around with Eduardo, told me that he know Armando\nArmando fuckin' with Carlos, Carlos wrappin' em up in the barcodes\nRidin' around with that Scotty in brand new Bugattis\nOG Miley Cyrus, snakes tryna give me the virus\nBut I got that antidope like I know science but I'm no scientist\nFuckin' around with them bombs but I am no terrorist\nPiss on your bitch, that R. Kelly shit\nI'm on Mount Everest sippin' on medicine\n\nCall me what you want but you can't call me broke (money)\nPull up with that choppa and a telescope\nGot 50 chickens in with me, runnin' around in my city\nYoung rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys, rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys\nWe makin' a motion picture (movie), Michelangelo (movie)\nI'm seein' the snakes in the grass - shhh!\nI got the antidope, (*antidope*) antidope, (*antidope*) antidope, (*antidope*) antidope\n(*Antidope*) Antidope, antidope, antidope, antidope\nAustin Powers, you niggas be takin' my mojo (takin' my mojo)\nYoung nigga I got the antidope\nCoke and baking soda minerals (Cocaina)\nI got a brick in the figure-four\nYoung nigga I never made honor roll (no)\nBut I know how to add up them digits (I do)\nWhippin' and cookin' and flippin' chickens (I do)\nYou say you got money but pussy nigga you don't have a witness 'cause I've never seen it\nI'm a rich nigga I mean it (rich nigga)\nKeep talkin' bullets go through yo' beanie\nI'm in a Phantom Ghost, call that shit Casper\nYoung nigga plugged in like adapters\nStomp yo' ass out like an Alpha\nAhead of you niggas, you still in the first chapter\n\nCall me what you want but you can't call me broke (money)\nPull up with that choppa and a telescope\nGot 50 chickens in with me, runnin' around in my city\nYoung rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys, rich nigga trappin' out Bentleys\nWe makin' a motion picture (movie), Michelangelo (movie)\nI'm seein' the snakes in the grass - shhh!\nI got the antidope, antidope, antidope, antidope\nAntidope, antidope, antidope, antidope"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsBig on Big Lyrics\nBig on big\nBig on big\nBig on big\n\nIf you havin' paper and I'm havin' paper\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf you havin' neighbors and I'm havin' acres\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf I got the Draco and you got the Sig\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf I'm trappin' that gas, you trappin' that mid\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf I pull out a dub, you pull out a ten\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf your bitch is a five, my bitch is a ten\nHow you gon' big on big?\nYou drivin' a Jag, I'm pushin' a Benz\nHow you gon' big on big?\nWhat you talkin' about? We done been did\nHow you gon' big on big?\n\nHow you gon' big on big?\nHow you go Sig on Driz?\nHow you pour one up the seal?\nHow you gon' do what I did?\nNiggas don't know how it feel\nHow you gon' say you is real?\nNigga lyin' sayin' he havin' Act' seal\nBut we both know that ain't real\nNigga lyin' 'bout a quarter mill\nHe ain't touch it or know how it feel\nNigga talkin' 'bout they independent\nTurned around and 360 the deal\nNigga walkin' 'round with 30s on them\nBut they know they ain't ready to kill\nAll my niggas havin' cookie bags\nVacuum sealed and ready to sell\nM&M in the mail, I done took a lot of L's\nHundred niggas with the shells, goin' big, whale\nPullin' out V12, pickin' up a plate at Kelz\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\n(Can't go big on big)\nWe the biggest shit poppin', wrist water, no faucet\nBando to a mansion, you havin' condo status\nCan't go big and braggin', havin' real big passion\nEver since I was a lil' boy, yeah, I'm havin' Huncho status\nCan't compare to this, I'm takin' all the risks\nKnow how to solve a problem, know how to sell a brick\nYou might be poppin' them bottles, I'm poppin' them bottles and models\nYou might be ridin' American, my whips is foreign, the throttles\nYou tryna go big on big? stop it\nI put a big... hole... in your pocket\nThey say they ridin' around the city broke\nThat's 'cause they tryna keep up with the 'cho (Keep up!)\nEyes closed, whippin' it blindfold\nShe get on that pole, get bi-polar\nSix cell phones and I ain't social\nStill goin' big, cup like Magnolia\n\nIf you havin' paper and I'm havin' paper\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf you havin' neighbors and I'm havin' acres\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf I got the Draco and you got the Sig\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf I'm trappin' that gas, you trappin' that mid\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf I pull out a dub, you pull out a ten\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf your bitch is a five, my bitch is a ten\nHow you gon' big on big?\nYou drivin' a Jag, I'm pushin' a Benz\nHow you gon' big on big?\nWhat you talkin' about? We done been did\nHow you gon' big on big?\nHow you gon'... flex on the squad?\nWhen you know... the bag is large?\nWhere were you... when times was hard?\nIt's pitiful, how you gon' big when we extra large?\nFour car garage... two bad broads\nI don't flex or floss... I'm a rockstar\nWith no guitar, Lambo avatar (Lambo)\nSippin' on some tar (Act) I'm livin' above the bar\nWrist on froze, wrist on froze (Ice)\nYour lil' hoe... been my hoe (Smash smash)\nGreen Lambo... Piccolo (Skrr skrr)\nDiamonds drippin' on me, Nickelodeon (Splash)\nYou goin' too big, you talkin' 'bout money, you bother me\n(You makin' me sick)\nI own all of my cars, jewelry, and I got property\n(I got some property)\nBuilding these houses in places, I'm playing Monopoly\nPlease do not talk to me\nYou don't do nothin', you obsolete\n\nIf you havin' paper and I'm havin' paper\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf you havin' neighbors and I'm havin' acres\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf I got the Draco and you got the Sig\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf I'm trappin' that gas, you trappin' that mid\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf I pull out a dub, you pull out a ten\nHow you gon' big on big?\nIf your bitch is a five, my bitch is a ten\nHow you gon' big on big?\nYou drivin' a Jag, I'm pushin' a Benz\nHow you gon' big on big?\nWhat you talkin' about? We done been did\nHow you gon' big on big?\nCan't go big on big\nCan't go big on big\nCan't go big on big\nCan't go big on big"}
{"text":"(Honorable C.N.O.T.E.)\nYeah, yeah\nYeah (Buddah Bless this beat)\nChyeah\n\nYeah, yeah (Yeah), yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah (Yeah), yeah, yeah\nSuperstars, superstars, superstars out (Hey)\nBrand new cars (Skrrt, yeah), we buy the bar now (Woo)\nSwang doors now (Skrrt), fuck on hoes now (Smash)\nTats and golds, uh (Tats), rock the shows, uh (Yeah)\nBig bank rolls (Cash, woo), now she go, uh (Go)\nFor the team, uh (Woo), now she wet, don't ski, uh (Splash)\nThinkin' 'bout postin' her on the 'gram, and delete her (Delete it)\nWhole gang in the field, we don't do bleachers, uh\n\nPockets lettuce, uh\nBitch, don't think I'm ready, uh uh\nYou got that swag (Drip)\nYou got that sauce then sell it, uh uh\nFree my niggas, cash 'em out we bailin' (Free)\nSaw my teacher, I was the same student, failin' (Me)\nNow I got a lawyer, straight cash, no settlement (Settlement, yeah)\nI'm out my element (element), out my, out my element (Woo, yeah)\nMy niggas the same, don't need no clout, no fame (No clout, no clout)\nBought the gang (Yeah), all brand new chains (Ice, ice)\nSwerve the lane (Yeah), call the group \"The gang\" (Gang, gang)\nWhip that thing (Whip it), then she give me brain (Ooh, yeah)\nThem boys fool you tryna do it, bring the toolies out (Try and do it)\nNiggas don't want no smoke, they pull up with they coochies out\nIt's times three, it's times three, that's how it goes (Three-way, yeah)\nPark a million dollars at the bando (Skrrt, skrrt)\nWe gon' make 'em eat that dope until we go (Eat it up, eat it up)\nRich niggas straight to the top floor (Top)\nOn more PJs than Pablo (PJs)\nWrist like water, go to Cabo (Splash)\nCash in the walls, hollow (Cash)\nYour money too small, micro (Woo)\nHuncho on the call, gotta reload (Brrrr, reload)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nYeah, yeah (Yeah), yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah (Yeah), yeah, yeah\nSuperstars, superstars, superstars out (Hey)\nBrand new cars (Skrrt, yeah), we buy the bar now (Woo)\nSwang doors now (Skrrt), fuck on hoes now (Smash)\nTats and golds, uh (Tats), rock the shows, uh (Yeah)\nBig bank rolls (Cash, woo), now she go, uh (Go)\nFor the team, uh (Woo), now she wet, don't ski, uh (Splash)\nThinkin' 'bout postin' her on the 'gram, and delete her (Delete it)\nWhole gang in the field, we don't do bleachers (Gang)\nThinkin' 'bout postin' her on the 'gram, and delete her (Delete it)\nWhole gang in the field, we don't do bleachers\n\nIce the gang (Ice), had to ice the gang (Ice)\nSo much ice (Too much), had to ice the lane (Whew)\nFreeze the dud (Freeze), had to freeze the lame (Freeze)\nCamera phone (Splash), Scarface, Al Capone (Al Capone)\nTurn your lights off, nigga, we've been on (Been on)\nCame from my block and growed up, guess I'm homegrown (Homegrown)\nWell known, cookie, that is my cologne (Cookie, cookie)\nI put my wrist inside the freezer, came out froze (Ice, ice)\nI put my heart inside this shit 'cause I was chose (Heart, chose)\nI put my heart inside and only God knows (God knows)\nGet a Kleenex for that baby, wipe his nose (I wiped his nose)\nWhat's a leg? We shootin' heads 'til they explode (Grra grra, reload)\nYeah, yeah (Yeah), yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah (Yeah), yeah, yeah\nSuperstars, superstars, superstars out (Hey)\nBrand new cars (Skrrt), we buy the bar now (Woo)\nSwang doors now (Skrrt), fuck on hoes now (Smash)\nTats and golds, uh (Tats), rock the shows, uh (Yeah)\nBig bank rolls (Cash), now she go, uh (Go)\nFor the team, uh (Woo), now she wet, don't ski, uh (Splash)\nThinkin' 'bout postin' her on the 'gram, and delete her (Delete it)\nWhole gang in the field, we don't do bleachers (Gang)\nThinkin' 'bout postin' her on the 'gram, and delete her (Delete it)\nWhole gang in the field, we don't do bleachers (Uh)\n\nWoo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Offset!\nWraith with the stars out (Wraith)\nTrappin' out the boarded house (Hey)\nThe bricks get deported out (Deported)\nNiggas grouped out for a shout (Whew, yeah)\nMarvin the Martian (Martian), I'ma put your brain up for auction (brrt)\nProceed with caution (Caution), skele' AP is frosted (Skeleton)\nI sit back and read the offence (Read), my hoe is addicted to faucets (Woo)\nChanel bag is ostrich (Chanel), stay down, come up in the process (Stay down)\nHey, private jet, yeah, thotty wanna fuck the same sex, yeah (Thotty, thotty)\nDiamond mill' mill', yeah, I'ma keep the bitch on welfare (Woo, woo)\nThe pink stone real rare (rare), bling bling blaow, yeah (Bling bling)\nMama got style, yeah (Style), Chanel reptile, player (Hey)\nGeeked on Mars (Geeked), gotta give the grace up to God (Grace to God)\nThree rockstars, nobody seein' the gang, on God (God)\nYeah, yeah (Yeah), yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah (Yeah), yeah, yeah\nSuperstars, superstars, superstars out (Hey)\nBrand new cars (Skrrt), we buy the bar now (Woo)\nSwang doors now (Skrrt), fuck on hoes now (Smash)\nTats and golds, uh (Tats), rock the shows, uh (Yeah)\nBig bank rolls (Cash), now she go, uh (Go)\nFor the team, uh (Woo), now she wet, don't ski, uh (Splash)\nThinkin' 'bout postin' her on the 'gram, and delete her (Delete it)\nWhole gang in the field, we don't do bleachers (Gang)\nThinkin' 'bout postin' her on the 'gram, and delete her (Delete it)\nWhole gang in the field, we don't do bleachers (Uh)"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsAll Ass Lyrics\nPurps on the beat\nBa-ba bah bah bah\nBa-ba bah bah bah\nYeah\n\nBeat the pot, beat the pot, beat the pot, oh\nBad bitches walkin' out with bags at the store (Bad)\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole (All ass ayy, all ass ayy)\nYeah, beat the pot, beat the pot, beat the pot, oh (Beat it)\nBad bitches walkin' out with bags at the store (Bad)\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole (All ass ayy, all ass ayy)\nYeah\n\nI'm throwin' a bag (Bag)\nIt bought her a bag (Bag)\nLast bitch I fucked, she wasn't goin' out sad (Goin' out sad)\nCan't play a player for sure, can't play a player, no (No)\nThrow the money to the top (Top)\nIt's fallin' off the top ropes (Yee)\nYeah (Yee)\nI bet I put all my bitches on dope (Yee)\nYeah (Yee)\nAyy (Yee)\nShe'll be fuckin' 'til the sun come up (Uh, uh, uh)\nHey yeah\nIf you want to ball, let's get it (Woohoo)\nHey yeah\nI make you rich with a fifty (Cash)\nHey yeah\nNo lemonade, it's simply, just me and my bitch (Ayy)\nIf she don't get dick, she gon' have a fit (Yeah)\nHer daddy the plug (Ayy)\nShe fuck with the bricks, she with the shit (Yeah)\nShe bought a salon to clean the money, he feed the bitch\nNow he on the run, they seized the house, they seized the whips (Yee)\nNow she on the run, she took the money, he need the bitch\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nBeat the pot, beat the pot, beat the pot, oh\nBad bitches walkin' out with bags at the store (Bad)\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole (All ass ayy, all ass ayy)\nYeah, beat the pot, beat the pot, beat the pot, oh (Beat it)\nBad bitches walkin' out with bags at the store (Bad)\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole (All ass ayy, all ass ayy)\nYeah\n\nAll ass, ayy\nFifty cash bags, on a bad day (Yeah)\nI'm on a fast pace, I wanted the fast way (Skr)\nThey copied the last wave, I cut 'em like black spades (Ayy)\nFuckin' a thot in my mansion, fuckin' a thot on my bedroom\nBitch lookin' like a Kardashian (Kardashian)\nWe hopped in the coupe and we smashin'\nSippin' on my drink, I watch that ass go slow motion (Slow)\nWalkin' with that bag, look at my diamonds like the ocean, huh\nGeekin' out, she geekin' out, she geekin' on the dough\nTen different bitches, eeny meeny miny moe\nTrappin' out the Nawf, trappin' out the bando (Nawf)\nNo, you need you a brick then I get the dough\n\nBeat the pot, beat the pot, beat the pot, oh\nBad bitches walkin' out with bags at the store (Bad)\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole (All ass ayy, all ass ayy)\nYeah, beat the pot, beat the pot, beat the pot, oh (Beat it)\nBad bitches walkin' out with bags at the store (Bad)\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole (All ass ayy, all ass ayy)\nYeah\nMy wrist is glass (Glass)\nMy neck is glass (Glass)\nLast jeweler just spent sixty cash (Cash)\nLast bitch I had, she bought a Jag' (Jag')\nThey come in empty handed, she kept her bag (Yee)\nBag, all ass ayy (Yee, ass)\nI can't get my nut off, I'ma spaz bae (Yee, spaz)\nNo credit, no debit, the cash way (Yee, cash)\nNo stomach, no waist, pretty face, the ass way (Yee yee)\n\nBeat the pot, beat the pot, beat the pot, oh\nBad bitches walkin' out with bags at the store (Bad)\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole (All ass ayy, all ass ayy)\nYeah, beat the pot, beat the pot, beat the pot, oh (Beat it)\nBad bitches walkin' out with bags at the store (Bad)\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole (All ass ayy, all ass ayy)\nYeah\n\nAll ass ayy, all ass ayy\nAll ass ayy, all ass ayy\nAll ass ayy, all ass ayy\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the\nStripper girl shakin', all ass on the pole"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsOne Time Lyrics\nOne time\nYo, yo yoooo\nMigo\n\nSmoke one one time (smoke one)\nDrink one one time (drink, drink)\nLemme fuck some one time (smash)\nTear the club up one time  (turn the club up)\nSmoke some one time (smoke)\nDrink some one time (drank)\nLemme fuck some one time\nTurn the club up one time  (ugh)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (one time, one time)\nOnly take one time (one time, one time)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (one)\nOnly take one time (one)\nOnly take one time\n\nOnly take one time for me to put my eyes on you, I'm looking at you\nOnly take one time for me to just get high with you (gas, gas!)\nOnly take one time for me to just pull up (skrr)\nOnly take one time for my nigga to pull up with the choppas\nAnd a hundred round drum\nCut 'em off one time and they gone (Nawfside)\nWhat type of shit that you on? (type of shit that you on)\nWhat type of drug that you on? (type of drug that you on)\nYRN the label we put em on (Young Rich Niggas!)\nChampionship, you know that we winning one this year (win another one, oh)\nI don't have to empty the clip, she want Tommy outta here\nTook your ho for the first time (one time)\nAnd I only hit her one time (one time)\nI walk in the jewelry store for the first time\nI'm walking out looking like Busta Rhymes (Busst)\nI told my niggas we gonna see dollar signs\nI told em one time (I told 'em, told 'em)\nWe overseas for the first time, but it sure ain't the last time\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nSmoke one, one time (smoke one)\nDrink one, one time (drink, drink)\nLemme fuck something one time (smash)\nTurn the club up one time (turn the club up)\nSmoke some one time (smoke)\nDrink some one time (drank)\nLemme fuck something one time\nTurn the club up one time (ugh)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (one time, one time)\nOnly take one time (one time, one time)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (one)\nOnly take one time (ooh)\nOnly take one time\n\nOffset\nMigo gang say it one time (Migo!)\nNow the choppa sounding like a drum line\nCall up the plug one time (plug!)\nHe pulling up with a hundred lines (pull up!)\nOne rum and one cosign (Cosign)\nHave you in the drop top, no mind (skr skrr)\nLemme smash one time, lemme pass one time\nLil mama staring at me, hit the gas one time (gas)\nOne time, one time, one time\nI got more chains on than Busta Rhymes\nNiggas cloning me but I am one of a kind (clone)\nYou say you be drinking but only one line\nOnly take one time for a nigga to snitch (snitch)\nOnly take one time caught with a brick (brick)\nBumping yo lip you get shot in yo shit\nAll of this work I need me a forklift\nHit a nigga with a choppa only one time\nAnd I got the pocket rocket and it's on me all the time\nMy diamonds hit one time and it make you blind (shine)\nTechnical foul fuck nigga crossed the line (foul)\nNigga one time, I stretch it to a nine (nine)\nI got two hundred buried in the ground\nOne gun with bout 200 round\nThey looking for you in the lost and found (where)\nSmoke one, one time (smoke one)\nDrink one, one time (drink, drink)\nLemme fuck something one time (smash)\nTurn the club up one time (turn the club up)\nSmoke some one time (smoke)\nDrink some one time (drank)\nLemme fuck something one time\nTurn the club up one time (ugh)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (one time, one time)\nOnly take one time (one time, one time)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (one)\nOnly take one time (ooh)\nOnly take one time (oh)\n\nOnly take one time for me to call my niggas up and they pulling up\nThinking bout running up\nI'mma chop you with the choppa then I hit the runner up\nMy mansion's got expensive furniture\nMy stingray Corvette, it come with the turbulence\nHit the gas one time, it's over with\nI'm in Vegas in casinos and I'm betting my poker chips\nJust like a spider, I web up the game\nPeople they think it's Peter Parker here\nOne song Versace and it got us the fame\nNiggas plotting, get one shot in your brain\nNiggas biting but ain't gon say your name\nMigo my family, only one gang\nI came from the Northside and invaded the A\nStart fucking up the city now we got our own lane\nNow we blowing up like we on a mine\nGivenchy khakis, Versace down my spine\nSpeeding in traffic I'm doing 200\nThat nigga say fuck the stop sign\nTaking your bitch and I fuck her one time\nBut that bitch she be calling me more than one time\nI drop a 8 one time, y'all drinking one line\nYou ain't never seen a hundred thousand dollar one time\nSmoke one, one time (smoke one)\nDrink one, one time (drink, drink)\nLemme fuck something one time (smash)\nTurn the club up one time (turn the club up)\nSmoke some one time (smoke)\nDrink some one time (drank)\nLemme fuck something one time\nTurn the club up one time (ugh)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (one time, one time)\nOnly take one time (one time, one time)\nOnly take one time (only take one)\nOnly take one time (one)\nOnly take one time (ooh)\nOnly take one time (oh)"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsOpen It Up Lyrics\nShot through your car door\nShoutout to Cardo\nCardo got wings\n\nWoo, woo, woo\nCoupe with the wings (Brrr)\nFuck that bitch, don't buy no ring (Buy no rings, yeah)\nHundred chains for the team, whole gang (Yeah)\nSeen it count money in my dreams (Yeah)\n\nUh, ooh, open it up\nUh, ooh, open it up\nUh, ooh, Kriss Kross jump\nUh, ooh, with a bale in the trunk\nUh, ooh, shells in the pump\nUh, ooh, shells in the pump\nUh, ooh, Kriss Kross jump\nUh, ooh, with a bale in the trunk\n\nMr. Miyagi, tats on my body (yeah)\nRacks up the party (Uh), facts say I got it (Yeah)\nCrashed the Bugatti (Skrrt skrrt), crashed the Bugatti (Skrrt)\nQC murder ain't no Gotti (QC), shh, don't tell nobody (Ayy)\nWe ain't tryna rob, that's just how we mob (Mobbin')\nLeave that to the blocks (Leave it), money to the stars (Yoda)\nBlessings came from God (Woo), had to beat the odds (Beat it)\nYoung nigga workin' hard (Workin'), pull yo card (Pull it)\nIn that pot, first one makin' noise (In that, skrrt skrrt skrrt skrrt)\nBoulevard, slide with my boys (Uh, skrrt skrrt skrrt skrrt)\nMet Gala, dripped on the red carpet, so my ice on the runway (yeah)\nElliot did the pave, Johnny Dang did my ice tray (yeah)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nUh, ooh, open it up\nUh, ooh, open it up\nUh, ooh, Kriss Kross jump\nUh, ooh, with a bale in the trunk\nUh, ooh, shells in the pump\nUh, ooh, shells in the pump\nUh, ooh, Kriss Kross jump\nUh, ooh, with a bale in the trunk\n\nOpen it up, open it, open it, double cup feelin' the opium\nIt's AK in the cut, my niggas totin' it (Brrr), we ain't tryna look appropriate (Nah)\nDon't show up and look at me wrong, I'm blowin' it\nYou tryna plot and we knowin' it (Knowin' it)\nThrow away, I shoot a pistol then throw it (Throw it)\nMy niggas shoot Without Warning (brrr)\n6 o'clock in the mornin' (Mornin'), phone ringin', it's annoyin' (Brrr)\nI ain't been to sleep, tourin' (Tourin') and I got a late performance (late)\nYou're funny, call you Martin Lawrence, you 12, so issue a warrant (12)\nAll this ice on me, it's stormin' (Ice), fuck her at night, she gone by the mornin' (Gone)\n\nUh, ooh, open it up\nUh, ooh, open it up\nUh, ooh, Kriss Kross jump\nUh, ooh, with a bale in the trunk\nUh, ooh, shells in the pump\nUh, ooh, shells in the pump\nUh, ooh, Kriss Kross jump\nUh, ooh, with a bale in the trunk (Hey)\nTry to get the formula, iced out all of us (Ice)\nBricks from the cornerback, gone for a hundred packs\nFronted me a 50 and I ran with 200 racks (Ran)\nAnd I ain't ever plan on comin' back (Nah)\nGot the 16 year old shooter pack (Brr)\nGet back, .40 push your noodle back (Get that)\nDiamonds on me, took the Rick Ruler back (Slick the Ruler)\nThotty got \u2018em fallin' for the booby trap (Booby trap)\nStretch out the dope like it's athletic (Dope)\nThen I asked the bitch, \"Is your mouth ready?\" (Dope)\nYou got a nigga drip on your wedding crate (Drip)\nBetter keep it over there to keep it copacetic (Hey)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas, I'ma threat 'em (Nah)\nHe don't want no smoke, and I'm down to battle (Smoke)\n25 bricks and they all edible (Bricks), I'm the big dog on a high pedestal (Hey)\nBo-legged coupe (Coupe), mil' in the roof (Mils), bitch got the juice (Juice)\nI know you feel me, masseuse (You feel)\nYou rock me, I kill you a truce (I kill you)\nBig pointers on my neck, Bruce Bruce (Big pointers)\nGrave digger of the Nawf on you (Grave digger)\nYou too cute, gimme mouth, give you loot (Too cute)\nBetter watch yo bitch, she want the crew (Hey, hey)\n\nWoo, woo woo\nCoupe with the wings (Brrr)\nFuck that bitch, don't buy no ring (Buy no rings, yeah)\nHundred chains for the team, whole gang (Yeah)\nSeen it count money in my dreams (Yeah)\nUh, ooh, open it up\nUh, ooh, open it up\nUh, ooh, Kriss Kross jump\nUh, ooh, with a bale in the trunk\nUh, ooh, shells in the pump\nUh, ooh, shells in the pump\nUh, ooh, Kriss Kross jump\nUh, ooh, with a bale in the trunk (Ah)"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easRacks 2 Skinny Lyrics\n(Durel made the beat, I'ma rock with it)\nTakeoff\n\nI cop me a coupe and I hop\u2005in\u2005it (Coupe)\nHe claimin'\u2005the gang, but he not in\u2005it (Not)\nThat Birkin bag came with the fire in it\u205f(Brrt)\nHe\u205ftold\u205fyou a rap\u205fwith a lie\u205fin it (Lie)\nHe got some new jewels, he flexin' his ice\nHe prayin' to God he don't die in it (God)\nLet me take 'em back to the bando on the Nawf\nDon't you remind me (Nawf)\nI try to stay low, but I shine so bright\nSo it be hard not to find me (Shine)\nThese rainbow diamonds up in that Rollie\nNo, this not your regular timepiece (Rainbow)\nCome place your order, gon' cost you a quarter\nAnd it's a fee to stand beside me (Fee)\nGod forbid, if somebody try me\nI'm turnin' this shit to a crime scene (Brrt)\nGrab a SIG and put up the kids\nThe mini-Draco in the arm sling (Shoot)\nAnd ain't no jumpin' or switchin' no side\nWhen I let it sing, the bells ring (No)\nPlease don't judge me just 'cause of my cover\n'Cause you never seen what I seen (Go)\nWhen the racks too skinny\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI walk in this bitch with my gun out (Bah)\nYou don't know what I know, ain't seen what I seen\nWhat the fuck they be talkin' 'bout? (Huh?)\nDamn (Damn)\nShe still count the bag and went on this bitch to clock out (Go)\nI pulled the F&N out of my drawers\nShe thought I was pullin' my cock out (Cock out)\nIf you touch one of us, we bust\nYour lil' bitty shit get shot down (Grrah)\nYou're not one of us\nI did not trust ya then, especially not now (No, no)\nYoung nigga come through spinnin' this swingin' shit\nIt's a Nawfside playground, yeah (Nawfside)\nZip 'em up, spray ground (Zip 'em)\nWe gone, 85 northbound (Skrrt)\nYes, sir, it's Migo business (Yes, sir)\nWe divided the field like tennis (Divided the field)\nWe shook up the trenches (Yeah)\nMovin' the tenants and still trappin' in it (Trappin', trap)\nIt's a handout, fifty (Woo)\nI'll stack it up, double up, spend it (Stack it, stack it)\n\nWhen the racks too skinny (Too skinny)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze, uh)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Too skinny)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze, woo)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Go)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze, uh)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Skinny)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Too skinny)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Offset, squeeze)\nDropped out of school (Hey)\nKicked down the door, bust it down, now we full (Kick door)\nChrome Heart the denim, the patches velour (Uh)\nI send 'em, they spin 'em, don't go back and forth (Hoo)\nI got a stick, this bitch take down a horse (Stick)\nBasketball seats in the Wraith like a court (Hey)\nWe get you spinned, get you put in a morgue (Morgue)\nBig body mansion with basketball courts (Court)\nCount a whole M up, my thumb was sore (Sore)\nJust look at the bitch and I know I'ma score (Score)\nTwo hundred cash with a mag in my drawer (Mag)\nI'm pullin' strings like I play the guitar (Hey)\nDracos and MACs, we ready for war (Dracos, the Dracos)\nWe petty, we spend every day with them cutters, machete\nI spend a little lettuce, he sent to the medics\nMy money come steady\nSomebody die, only way I can dead it\nI heard your money was sheddin'\nWe on the verge, worth hundreds of millions (Verge)\nThey trick off your top and I took off my ceiling (Hey)\nCash in the vault, I got more than a million\nM's in the bank, I don't care 'bout opinions (M's)\nPlay with the gang, we stay and we drill 'em\nFuck it, we crash, we villain (Skrrt)\nI'm in my bag and I'm gettin' it (Uh)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Too skinny)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze, woo)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Go)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze, uh)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Skinny)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Too skinny)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze, uh)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Racks)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze, woo)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Go)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze, uh)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Skinny)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze)\nWhen the racks too skinny (Racks)\nI can make some, squeeze a milli' (Squeeze, uh)\n\n(Durel made the beat, I'ma rock with it)"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsOut Yo Way Lyrics\nI wanna say, you always going out your way\nCancel all your plans, you will understand\nYou probably got your hands full, whatever goal you pursue\nAll this pain, we can live through it, it's called success\n\nYou always going out your way\nYou always dropping off your flav, yeah\nYou always going out your way\nYou never ask me to repay, no\nYou always going out your way, yeah yeah, ooh\nYou always going out your way, yeah, ooh\nYeah, yeah\n\nI won't ask the bitch unless she goin' to get it\nIt might take a minute, but she'll be sure to get it\nJust to pass the test, I won't act the best\nI got Actavis, there's nothing I can't ask the bitch, no\nNot one missed call, no missed calls, hell nah, nah\nShe got a man, can't get involved, no, nah, nah\nShe still going all ways every time I call\nWe gonna ball today, ayy, we gonna ball tomorrow\nI put this weight on like I put a cape on\nNow that this fame came, I can see the hate on you\nMama told me stay strong, grandma told me stay on\nNow she looking down, throwin' blessings\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nYou always going out your way\nYou always dropping off your flav, yeah\nYou always going out your way\nYou never ask me to repay, no\nYou always going out your way, yeah yeah, ooh\nYou always going out your way, yeah, ooh\nYeah, yeah\n\nGo out your way and come out\nGo out your way to mom's house (MAMA!)\nGo out your way, so out your way\nYou going out your way to come back around\nYou go out your way, you keep cool\nYou go out your way, you break rules\nGo out your way, so out your way\nYou're going out your way, you can't lose\nVacay trips to Cancun, spaceships, trips to the moon\nNever likes to tell the truth\nHead full of hair, but the cat well groomed\nPlan a trip to Peru (Plan it), charter jet, me and you\nYou going out your way, way out your way\nSo I had to do this for you\nJackpot, hit the right spot, so she had to get a tattoo\nIt's some dirt and hurt, but ain't perfect\nAnd she gone always, come through\nHold me down, either good or bad\nNever switch or act brand new\nGo out your way and wasn't told to\nSo I made this song just for you\nYou always going out your way\nYou always dropping off your flav, yeah\nYou always going out your way\nYou never ask me to repay, no\nYou always going out your way, yeah, yeah, ooh\nYou always going out your way, yeah, ooh\nYeah, yeah\n\nI put my heart and my soul in it\nGet to the money, then double it\nAll of these bitches, they loving me\nBut you had my back from the other beef (Yeah)\nShe bending over, back for me\nMade a deal that you wouldn't cross, lie to me\nIt was so many people that doubted me\nShit talk, shit talk, bullets start to let off\nJack Frost, Jack Frost, wrist cost a whole house\nBlast off, blast off, my career gon' blast off\nWe don't need y'all, want y'all, we don't have to ask y'all\nI been fucking on the nats, nigga, all day\nRide through the city, yeah, the ball way\nWe was trappin', cappin' all through the hallway\nEverybody said that we would fall away\nNobody thought that we would go up\nBut we blew up, blew up, blew up\nFuckin' on a thot on the tour bus\nGoing out your way for the two of us\nYou always going out your way\nYou always dropping off your flav, yeah\nYou always going out your way\nYou never ask me to repay, no\nYou always going out your way, yeah, yeah, ooh\nYou always going out your way, yeah, ooh\nYeah, yeah"}
{"text":"Higher we go, beg and plead for the culture\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the cul\u2014\n\nI'ma put these racks in your face\nIn your face, show you that you lame\nI'ma stash these Ms at my place\nIn my place, but no I'm not the bank\nI'ma pull that coupe out to race\nWho wanna race? We livin' that fast pace\nI'ma pull these hoes, I don't chase\nHit these hoes, get 'em right out my face\nI'ma pull the strap close case\nHit a nigga hard, send him dat way\nI'ma put the gang on your plate (Gimme the plate, ayy)\nYou can't eat on my plate (No eatin')\nMount it up like the horse on Raris (Yeah, skrrt, ayy)\nBeat that pot like Ortiz, yeah (Beat it)\nTwo feet runnin' from the feds (Yeah, 12)\nAll these niggas lookin' like they scared (Yeah, pussy)\nLock a fuck nigga like these dreads (Yeah, pop 'em)\nPick a nigga off for that bread (Yeah, hey)\nWe can go there if you want to (Where)\nI'll come down if you want to (Down)\nLoad up the rounds if you want to (Rounds)\nHop out, see what you gon' do (Yeah)\nWe can go there if you want to (There)\nI'll come down if you want to (Down)\nLoad up on the rounds if you want to (Rounds)\nHop out, gotta see what you gon' do (Hey)\nWe don't play with dem lil' boys out here, naw, naw, naw (Don't play)\nBig boy bosses all in my seminar (Bosses)\nBig boy Wraith had them bitches seein' stars stars (Wraith)\nStock me out, I don't need no rims on cars (Hey, hey)\nIt's okay (Okay)\nIcing, Icing glaze (Icin' glaze)\nI don't take breaks\nShit, I'm 'bout to go blaze? ('Bout to go blaze)\nWhat's yo' page? (Woo)\nSlide in the DM like snakes (Slide, slide)\nThe coupe got blaze (Coupe)\nThe coupe got wings with blaze (Skrrt, skrrt)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Go)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Plead)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Woo)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Culture)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Go, go, go)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Woo, woo)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Ha)\n\nThe higher you go (Go), went through the most (Most)\nWe get to fly, you float (Float)\nNo Malone, but I post (Malone)\nMigos, you know we the goats (Goat)\nBag of bread, call it loaf (Loaf)\nI shoot at that boy, then reload\nWalk in the trap in the soul (Walk)\nCome to my jeweler, get froze (Ice)\nSnatch your soul\nCome to the north, then we snatch your gold (Snatch)\nI had to set up the plug the other day\nWhat he was taxin' for? (For what?)\nI do it for culture\nBigger than Oprah, Mayweather 50-0, culture\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Yeah)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Go)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Plead)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (High, high, high)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (High, high, high)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Go, go, go)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Woo, woo, ha)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture\n\n(Offset!)\nFlooded my wrist, it's soakin' (Flooded)\nSplit up the waters like Moses (Split)\nI done put furs on the loafers (Fur)\nRolls Royce nightmare, I'm a ghost (Rolls Royce)\nLet's have a codeine toast\nNiggas ain't gettin' no stain on me\nNo drip, don't trip, my gang with me (Don't trip)\nCome to the bando, stop playin' with me (Bando)\nGot bricks on bricks, it's rainin' kis (Bricks)\nNiggas can't hang with me\nLay 'em in the dirt, they restrain from me (Dust)\nBust down the plain Philippe (Bust)\nShe bought me a Wraith, unique (Wraith)\nYou thots want to fuck, they in heat (Thot)\nA million, I bring home a week (M and M)\nShe a lil' beast (Beast)\nFuck around lookin' for the keys (Smash)\nGot the trap disease (Trap)\nPlease keep the cap from me (Cap)\nCount up the rack, proceed (Rack)\nFirst, seed when I got in the league (Hey)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Yeah)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Hey, hey, hey)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Go)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Plead)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Woo)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Culture)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Go, go, go)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture (Woo, woo, woo, ha)\nHigher we go, beg and plead for the culture"}
{"text":"89 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00eas\u0641\u0627\u0631\u0633\u06ccGive No Fxk Lyrics\nDJ Durel\nMurda on the beat, so it's not nice (Go)\n\nWe don't give no fuck (No)\nWe\u2005don't\u2005give no fuck\u2005(Fuck shit)\nWe don't give no fuck\u2005(No)\nWe don't give no fuck (Fuck shit)\nOut in public (Public)\nAnd we run shit (Run shit)\nOut in public (Public)\nAnd we run shit (Get right)\nI got too many diamonds on, I look awesome (Ice, get right)\nYeah, after I hit that ho, she need a walker (Smash, get right, uh)\nI done shook them problems off, now I'm bossin' (Woo, get right)\nYeah, stack the money tall, back to ballin' (Get right, Takeoff)\n\nBig boy Rolls, swerve the lane, I be hoggin' (Big boy Rolls)\nLit four blunts of Cookie, musty, yeah, it's foggy (Cookie, woah)\nI can park it, stick be sparkin', do no talkin' (Brrt)\nWatch me hit the target, mark the carpet, then depart it (Offset)\nWe don't give two fucks\nChoppers hangin' out the Rolls Royce truck (Pop 'em)\nGo play with your kid, 'cause I up (Up)\nShe broke, so why would I cuff? Ayy\nWe rich, lit, we 'bout to go up to space (Lit)\nGold toilet, I took me a rich shit (Woo)\n'Cause I have racks on my plate (Racks)\nI make you go get the bag, baby, we livin' the dream (Livin' the dream)\nGang not comin' in last, top ranked in loyalty (Top ranked)\nIt's a millionaire campaign, that's what it's supposed to be (Campaign)\nPray my soul to keep when I go to sleep (Uh, Huncho)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nWe don't give no fuck (No)\nWe don't give no fuck (Fuck shit)\nWe don't give no fuck (No)\nWe don't give no fuck (Fuck shit)\nOut in public (Public)\nAnd we run shit (Run shit)\nOut in public (Public)\nAnd we run shit (Get right)\nI got too many diamonds on, I look awesome (Ice, get right)\nYeah, after I hit that ho, she need a walker (Smash, get right, uh)\nI done shook them problems off, now I'm bossin' (Woo, get right)\nYeah, stack the money tall, back to ballin' (Get right)\n\nWith it (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nSplit it (Yeah, yeah)\nDrop-top Rolls (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nGutter, machete (Skrrt, skrrt)\nNo confetti (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBitch too petty (Woah, bitch)\nBig machete (Petty, petty)\nI gotta dead it (Woo)\nWe don't give no fuck (Uh-uh), we don't give no fuck, no (We don't give no fucks)\nGive her a couple bucks (Bucks), get her tummy tucked, woah (Woo)\nHarriet Tubman-ed up (Yeah), twenty bills in my clothes (Ayy)\nI got a bulletproof truck, I got the backwards doors on the Royce\nGive no fucks\nWe don't give no fuck (No)\nWe don't give no fuck (Fuck shit)\nWe don't give no fuck (No)\nWe don't give no fuck (Fuck shit)\nOut in public (Public)\nAnd we run shit (Run shit)\nOut in public (Public)\nAnd we run shit (Get right)\nI got too many diamonds on, I look awesome (Ice, get right)\nYeah, after I hit that ho, she need a walker (Smash, get right, uh)\nI done shook them problems off, now I'm bossin' (Woo, get right)\nYeah, stack the money tall, back to ballin' (Yeah, get right)\n\nI done been 'round the whole globe and did a few laps and brought back a whole tide\nShe done spent time in the hood and found nothin' else is better than that side\nI done went set up the Jack and made sure the pack ain't gotta push packs quite\nStuck at the top of the chain, in top of her brain, can't fall off at one time (Yeah)\nAll my colleagues say how we live outrageous (Alright)\nWe don't count the days, we just count the payments\nJust let that Juvie play, she start rejuvenating (Juvie)\nAlive at night, we take everything, we face it, yeah\n\nWe don't give no fuck (No)\nWe don't give no fuck (Fuck shit)\nWe don't give no fuck (No)\nWe don't give no fuck (Fuck shit)\nOut in public (Public)\nAnd we run shit (Run shit)\nOut in public (Public)\nAnd we run shit (Get right)\nI got too many diamonds on, I look awesome (Ice, get right)\nYeah, after I hit that ho, she need a walker (Smash, get right, uh)\nI done shook them problems off, now I'm bossin' (Woo, get right)\nYeah, stack the money tall, back to ballin' (Get right)\nDJ Durel\nMurda on the beat, so it's not nice"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsOunces Lyrics\nMigos! Metro!\nI mean all I ever wanted to be\nY'all know what we wanted to be\nUh, rich!\n\nAll I ever wanted was some motherfuckin' guala (Money)\nBando used to smell like some stinkin' enchiladas (Bando)\nThe streets is a jungle, got to watch for the koalas (Snoopers)\nAll I ever wanted was to get rid of them ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nWhole lot of ounces! (Whole lot)\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nAll I ever wanted was to get rid of them ounces\n\nWalk around with large amounts of guala on me (Cash!)\nI\u2019m walking around with a pocket rocket, don\u2019t run up on me lonely\nBought my first Audi with the fish scale guts\nNow I got the bitches, wanna fuck, they wanna cuddle up\nWanna come to the bando, knock two times then twist the handle\nGot everything in stock, whatever you need, just ask me\nI\u2019m selling that kush to Asher, Rel Money, got a whole bag of Ashley\nMoney taller than mountains, drinking lean out of damn water fountains\nShe so bad gave me erection or eroused, whatever you call it\nBitch, me and my team been balling\nBet your label keep motherfucking calling\nWoke up to a bitch this morning, got 16 new text message\n10 of em' saying \"go get to the guap\", other 6 saying \"Migos up next\"\nG-g-g-g-gone!\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nAll I ever wanted was some motherfuckin' guala (Money)\nBando used to smell like some stinkin' enchiladas (Bando)\nThe streets is a jungle, got to watch for the koalas (Snoopers)\nAll I ever wanted was to get rid of them ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nWhole lot of ounces! (Whole lot)\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nAll I ever wanted was to get rid of them ounces\n\nWhen I was a kid all I wanted was a hundred dollar bill\nNow I\u2019m 19, young nigga want 100 mil\nSelling whole things, want an ounce? Can't bust the seal\nWanna be a trapper? Never serve a nigga where you live\nIn the Bando counting chips no poker, weighing bales of Okra\nI got lots of O's, put my name right next to Al Capone\nI'm a Wizard, Antwan Jamison\nMy plug ain't Kangaroo Jack, but he Australian\nAnd he got crack sacks in the knapsack\nCritics say I'm a product of my environment\nSelling that dope to economists, menace to society\nOn the top of the mountain, you under me\nYoung nigga, I\u2019m trapping and grinding\nNo scale for the workers, I'm eying it\nYou niggas still nickel and diming\nRemix the dope and you niggas still buying it\nAll I ever wanted was some motherfuckin' guala (Money)\nBando used to smell like some stinkin' enchiladas (Bando)\nThe streets is a jungle, got to watch for the koalas (Snoopers)\nAll I ever wanted was to get rid of them ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nWhole lot of ounces! (Whole lot)\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nAll I ever wanted was to get rid of them ounces\n\nFuck the rap game cause these rap niggas really ain't shit\nI hop in the Audi, I hop in the Bentley\nFuck it I\u2019m smashing that bitch\nYoung rich nigga with the Rollie wrist\nTrapping and capping, I\u2019m selling the birdie\nYou fuck niggas really ain't serving\nSelling the bricks to the plug up in Berlin\nPut the dope in the water, hit it with the egg beater\nSipping lean, yeah I'm good on tequila\nMy neck is so sick, got the measles\nThis for my my niggas that trap in the Regal\nOunces, ounces, ounces, molly Santana's tall as a mountain\nPut the molly on top of her tongue\nShe sucking and fucking, she ain\u2019t got no manners\nBack to the basics, I\u2019m counting these faces\nMy pockets inflating off trapping the babies\nYou niggas fugazi, my niggas, they strapped like the Navy\nI\u2019m the mayor, matter fact, I\u2019m the president\nSipping on Actavis, like it's my medicine\nThrowing the bird with accuracy, all of you niggas is amateur\nPull up in Phantoms, but trap out of Challengers\nAll I ever wanted was some motherfuckin' guala (Money)\nBando used to smell like some stinkin' enchiladas (Bando)\nThe streets is a jungle, got to watch for the koalas (Snoopers)\nAll I ever wanted was to get rid of them ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nWhole lot of ounces! (Whole lot)\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nOunces, ounces, ounces\nAll I ever wanted was to get rid of them ounces\n"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easAvalanche Lyrics\nWoo, Papa was a rollin' stone, but now I got rollin' stones in the bezel (Ice)\nMama at home all alone, hustlin', tryna keep this shit together (Mama)\nYoung niggas smokin' on gas, I'm livin' too fast, my foot on the pedal (Woo)\nIf I go back to the past, my niggas ain't know we'd be rockin'\nCoachella (Hey)\nIf a nigga ever try me or play me, I buy him an iced-out shovel (Ice)\nDig ya own grave, nigga, you played yourself, I put some cash on your schedule (You played yourself)\nIf a bitch ever try to fellate me, huh (Yeah), I just sit back and let her (She got it)\nThink she come up off the 'Cho, it's whatever\nMy pockets came with extra cheddar (Go)\nI can see through the fuck shit (Fuck shit)\nI think that my skills gettin' better (Gettin' better)\nWith a stick, come in peace, Mandela (Mandela)\nI'm willin' to feed whoever (Who?)\nHow can I help you? (How?)\nNobody judge you but God (God)\nYou can watch us beat the odds (Beat it)\nThis is no cap, no facade\nYoung, rich, and black, and we gon' beat the charge (We gon')\nI'm spendin' cash, no card\nI'm likin' her natural ass, no fraud (Yeah)\nIf she got a fake ass, of course\nGirl, ain't nothin' wrong with enhancin', it's yours (She bad)\nFrom the back, from the back, we enjoy it (Soo)\nHunnid rack, I'ma attack with my boy (Attack)\nGot the clip, pokin' out, we be showin' (Showin')\nAnybody check clout, we be knowin' (Clout)\nIn and out, in and out, we be goin' (Go)\nOn a 757 Boeing (Jet)\nAnd my AP same size as The Forum (That's big)\nBetter get you some bread where you from (Yeah)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI spend my mills on the crib (Mansion)\nCover myself, F&N is my shield (Cover)\nI spent a dime, go run you a drill (Dime)\nIf you do the time, come home to a mill' (Time)\nDouble my seal (Double), sign another deal (Sign)\nG6 pills (G), money gimme chills (Chills)\nI make the bitch hit her knees, she kneel (Bitch)\nI make the stick hit when I'm in the field (Stick)\nI made your bitch lick it up like, \"Ew\" (Uhh)\nSpend a hunnid racks on the teeth, not a grill (Racks)\nLookin' at your diamonds on your neck, ain't real (Who?)\nNigga, you a bitch, let the Draco kill (Bitch)\nHeard what I said (Heard)\nSpinnin' your block every day 'til you're dead (Spin, spin)\nLive on the edge, codeine my meds (Codeine)\nOpen your legs (Legs), I fuck with my stick in the bed (Rraow)\nWe shootin', not fightin' like Craig (Bow)\nBad bitches, they DM, they still in my thread (They DM)\nThey ain't never give us our cred' (Cred')\nPatek, rose gold with the face, ruby red (Ruby)\nPut a hole in your head, not your legs (Hey)\nPut my hands on her head, she a pet (Ah)\nM-I-G-O, nigga, that's the set (Migo)\nFuck that P-O, I'ma just pay it (Who)\nWhite glass in my Lambo', it look like it's albino\nI hit your bitch, she say, \"Ouch,\" hit a high note (Ouch)\nI'm Richie Rich like Lionel (Richie Rich)\nCount your blessings, don't worry 'bout the rivals (Hey)\nGrandma told me, \"Go read the Bible\" (Grandma)\nShoulda listened, still look at the sky, though (Sky)\nSifter sippin', this not the Moscato (Sifter sippin')\nBitch, I'm gifted, I'm smokin' gelato (Bitch, I'm gifted)\nWe been the niggas that's steppin'\nWe came in the door and they takin' the flow, call it repo' (Bite)\nMy dog, he gon' bite, no Chico (Arr)\nGet hit with the Draco and make him with Rico (Brrt)\nAin't shoppin' Rodeo\nYou wanna see the three Migos? Then turn on your Vevo (Vevo)\nThe Wraith colored mayo (White)\nCountin' up cheese like I ate a bag of some Cheetos (Cheese)\nThey must forgot we the Migos (Forgot)\nStraight from the Nawf, out the bando (Bando)\nI done been quiet for too long (Too long)\nI copped that Cuban, it's two-tone (Two-tone)\nI heard he trappin', they tappin' the static (Tsss)\nTell that boy go get a new phone (Brrt)\nOut in Bel-Air, copped a new home (New home)\nAvalanche with the blue stone (Ice)\nI am the shit, can't find a fit\nMy neck is a fridge\nThe rings and wrists, I retro the kicks\nAin't givin' no kiss, I'm givin' her dick\nYou starin' too long like you seen a ghost\nSo whip out your camera, take you a pic'\nSo when you get home, get back on your phone\nZoom in on the flick and look at the drip\nShe ask me to pay for the ass to get lift\nI told her, \"I'm better off gettin' you a Lyft\"\nThink I'ma put all my trust in a ho with no benefits?\nTell her, \"Go jump off a cliff\"\nI go two-thirty, a cup of that purple\nPut ice in my drink just to keep it on chill (Lean)\nFuck all that talk, you ain't been in the field (Nah)\nOpen my bank account, it give me chills (Chills)\nTakeoff"}
{"text":"If Young Metro don't trust you I'm gon' shoot you\nHey\n\nI, I, count the guap (Count, count)\nSet up shop (Ooh, ooh), fuck the cops (fuck 12)\nWe ain't worried (Not at all)\nDiamonds (Diamonds) on my wrist look like McFlurry's (Oh Lord) (Woo, woo, woo, woo)\nAnd these, thotties ain't got manners, slurpin' (Oh Lord)\n\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Hey, ooh, ooh)\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Woo)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain (Rain)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey, woo, woo, woo)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Hey, ooh, ooh)\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Woo)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain (Rain)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain\n\nNiggas out here ain't got stain (Yeah)\nMakin' this money, been ballin' on niggas (Cash)\nThey think I signed to Tulane (Ball)\nPull up and \"What the fuck,\" nigga, that's strange (What the fuck?)\nUh, yeah, water on my wrist and my neck (Splash)\nLook at this fluid (Splash)\nHot commodity, the dope on hot commodity (Hot) the trap is on fire (Hot, hot)\nI'm at the top and I took your slot, you niggas ain't hot (Cold)\nGo to the lot and drop (Skrrt), I want the drop, robot (Huh?)\nNiggas gon' talk and pop (Huh), you get shot out your socks (Blow)\nWhat do you want lil' mama? Go 'head and fuck on my partner (Smash)\nCome for your head like a lineup, (White) these diamonds albino (White, white)\nWrap up the brick like a gyro, Migo gang Cinco De Mayo (Migo)\nShh, stuffin' them bricks in the Tahoe, boardin' the jet up to Cabo (Ooh)\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nI, I, count the guap (Count, count)\nSet up shop (Ooh, ooh), fuck the cops (fuck 12)\nWe ain't worried (Not at all)\nDiamonds (Diamonds) on my wrist look like McFlurry's (Oh Lord) (Woo, woo, woo, woo)\nAnd these, thotties ain't got manners, slurpin' (Oh Lord)\n\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Hey, ooh, ooh)\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Woo)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain (Rain)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey, woo, woo, woo)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Hey, ooh, ooh)\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Woo)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain (Rain)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain\n\nFlippin' the bird (Flippin' it)\nI put a brick in her purse (Brick)\nThese niggas evil and cursed (They evil)\nI pray and I send 'em to church (Church)\nI'ma pull up on your turf (Turf)\nI'm with the smokin', who get it first? (Who?)\nNo Addy but I'm alert ('lert)\nI ain't been hurt since birth (Hurt)\nI know my rights and worth (Worth)\nBirds sing Gerald LaVert (Brrrr)\nAustralia, the plug at work\nHe came from Sydney but I was in Perth (Damn)\nShe pull up on me, get curved (Curved)\nHop in the Rolls and swerve (Swerve)\nThe watch, two-tone, it's white and rose\nSo much water, I'ma have to learn how to surf (Surf)\nI, I, count the guap (Count, count)\nSet up shop (Ooh, ooh), fuck the cops (fuck 12)\nWe ain't worried (Not at all)\nDiamonds (Diamonds) on my wrist look like McFlurry's (Oh Lord) (Woo, woo, woo, woo)\nAnd these, thotties ain't got manners, slurpin' (Oh Lord)\n\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Hey, ooh, ooh)\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Woo)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain (Rain)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey, woo, woo, woo)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Hey, ooh, ooh)\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Woo)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain (Rain)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain\n\nYou can't get a bag, makin' me laugh, (Hah) Mike Epps (Haha)\nI Gucci my belt (Gucci), make my Emoji a whip (Emoji)\nHuncho barbarian (Yeah), McLaren, I park at Phipps (Skrrt)\nAin't no comparison, I'm starin' at lines of shrimps (Shrimp, shrimp)\nCruise the coast like a blimp (Go), dunkin' the ball like I'm Kemp (Uh)\nSlangin' the tree like a chimp (Oh), shot at me, walk with a limp (Blow)\nNiggas so don't attempt (Attempt), ice on, change the temp' (Change the temp')\nNorthside bangin' them (Bangin' them), don't let strangers in (Strangers in)\nTwist your fingers in (Fingers in), gangsters shit begin (Gangster shit)\nUsed to gettin' in, kickin' the doors and now I want the back ends (Go)\nUsed to sleep on mattress floors, I fuck on a bitch and her friend (Smash)\nWake 'em up, get in a taxi home and then my day begin\nI, I, count the guap (Count, count)\nSet up shop (Ooh, ooh), fuck the cops (Fuck 12)\nWe ain't worried (Not at all)\nDiamonds (Diamonds) on my wrist look like McFlurry's (Oh Lord) (Woo, woo, woo, woo)\nAnd these, thotties ain't got manners, slurpin' (Oh Lord)\n\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Hey, ooh, ooh)\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Woo)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain (Rain)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey, woo, woo, woo)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (hey, ooh, ooh)\nIce out the gang (Gang), make an Emoji a chain (Woo)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain (Rain)\nPut on the Patek, then change up the weather (Hey)\nThe shit turnin' into the rain"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsBirds Lyrics\nWassup, Pablo? What's poppin'?\nYou got them birds? D-low?\nI need 'em, I want it\n\nHad a dream that I woke up in a 'Rari (skrt, skrt, skrt)\nCan't fuck with you niggas, I'm sorry (No way, go)\nI'm too fly, I spread my wings and I'm soaring\nUsed to trap them birds, now I'm fly like a bird (Woo!)\n(I got 'em, who need 'em)\nB-birds\n(Come on, come on right now)\nB-b-birds\n(Come on, come on, come get 'em right now)\nBirds\n(Quavo, gone)\n\nJust hit my phone if you want a bird\nMy niggas out right now on the curb (Serve)\nYou can get a re-rock, you can get a whole serve (Serve)\nWe locked and now I can front you, young nigga that's my word (Word)\nWalk in the bando, look at all them birds (Birds)\nBando get low, re-up on the birds (Birds)\nGot shooters on pronto, don't got no undo\nAt the age of 17, I hit my first kick door (Kick door)\nJust me and Willie Mac, Offset, shoutout Domingo (Domingo)\nThen 12 tried to get me for gang activity (Migo)\nThe judge dropped the charge and I thank lord (Thank you)\nThat's why I take this mic and I go hard\nSee Migos LiveGet tickets as low as $67You might also like\nHad this dream that I woke up in a 'Rari (Skrt, skrt, skrt)\nCan't fuck with you niggas, I'm sorry (No way, go)\nI'm too fly, I spread my wings and I'm soaring\nUsed to trap them birds, now I'm fly like a bird (Woo!)\n(I got 'em, who need 'em)\nB-birds\n(Come on, come on right now)\nB-b-birds\n(Come on, come on, come get 'em right now)\nBirds\n(Offset)\n(Gone)\n\nJust got the word (Hello?)\nJust got the birds\nShabba Ranks gold, only kick it with Ferg\nYou thought 'bout finessing me? Run off with a bird (Haha)\nYou gotta be kidding me\nCharles Barkley, I got that broccoli\nFuckin' these bitches, committing adultery\nTrap full of babies like a Elementary\nBando with burglar bars (Bando)\nPlugged in with Italian mobs (Plugged)\nDon't never put trust in a broad (No)\nI'm puttin' my trust up in God\nI got birds, I got chickens, I got seagulls, so many birds\nMy gun is an eagle\nWhen I talk birds (Huh?)\nI'm talkin' a kilo (Kilo)\nHad a dream that I woke up in a 'Rari (Skrt, skrt, skrt)\nCan't fuck with you niggas, I'm sorry (No way, go)\nI'm too fly, I spread my wings and I'm soaring\nUsed to trap them birds, now I'm fly like a bird (Woo!)\n(I got 'em, who need 'em)\nB-birds\n(Come on, come on right now)\nB-b-birds\n(Come on, come on, come get 'em right now)\nBirds\n(Takeoff)\n\nThe plug just hit my phone for some Funyuns, want a onion (Gas)\nExotic crocodile skin Martens, call me Dundee (Ooh)\nTito want a brick, Chico gotta cross the country (White)\nCarlito for a hundred, gave bout fifty to my mama\nI'm an OG in my hood, no Aretha, well respected\nToucan Sam pigeons, call me Ace Ventura, Pet Detective\nI see falcons on a daily basis, Takeoff Arthur Blank\nWhippin' chickens in the kitchen, trap smell like a septic tank\nBlack and gold everything, talkin' 'bout jewelry, not the Saints\nI don't need no translator, I comprehend in a way\nMy plug Carlito, he can't speak no Englo, all he know is \"andale\" (Huh?)\nI got bandos for the L-O, state-to-state, no real estate (Damn)\nHad a dream that I woke up in a 'Rari (Skrt, skrt, skrt)\nCan't fuck with you niggas, I'm sorry (No way, go)\nI'm too fly, I spread my wings and I'm soaring\nUsed to trap them birds, now I'm fly like a bird (Woo!)\n(I got 'em, who need 'em)\nB-birds\n(Come on, come on right now)\nB-b-birds\n(Come on, come on, come get 'em right now)\nBirds\n(Gone)"}
{"text":"(Sucka-ass)\nI ain't got no mothafuckin' friends\nThat's why I fucked yo' bitch, you fat mothafucka!\n(Take money) Westside, Bad Boy killas\n(Take money) (You know) You know who the realest is\n(Take money) Niggas, we bring it too\nThat's a'ight, haha\n(Take money) Haha\nFirst off, fuck yo' bitch and the clique you claim\nWestside when we ride, come equipped with game\nYou claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife\nWe bust on Bad Boys, niggas fucked for life\nPlus, Puffy tryna see me, weak hearts I rip\nBiggie Smalls and Junior M.A.F.I.A., some mark-ass bitches\nWe keep on comin' while we runnin' for your jewels\nSteady gunnin', keep on bustin' at them fools, you know the rules\nLil' Caesar, go ask your homie how I'll leave ya\nCut your young-ass up, leave you in pieces, now be deceased\nLil' Kim, don't fuck around with real G's\nQuick to snatch yo' ugly ass off the streets, so fuck peace!\nI'll let them niggas know it's on for life\nDon't let the Westside ride tonight (Hahaha)\nBad Boy murdered on wax and killed\nFuck with me and get yo' caps peeled, you know\nYou might also like\nSee, grab your Glocks when you see 2Pac\nCall the cops when you see 2Pac, uh\nWho shot me? But you punks didn't finish\nNow you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace\nNigga, I hit 'em up! (Yeah)\n\nCheck this out (Take money)\nYou motherfuckers know what time it is\nI don't even know why I'm on this track (Take money)\nY'all niggas ain't even on my level\nI'ma let my lil' homies ride on you bitch-made ass (Take money)\nBad Ay ay ayo hold the fuck up\nBoy bitches, feel it! (Take money)\nGet out the way yo, get out the way yo\nBiggie Smalls just got dropped\nLittle Mu', pass the MAC and let me hit him in his back\nFrank White needs to get spanked right for settin' traps\nLittle accident murderer, and I ain't never heard of ya\nPoisonous gats attack when I'm servin' ya\nSpank ya, shank ya whole style when I gank\nGuard your rank 'cause I'ma slam your ass in the paint\nPuffy weaker than the fuckin' block I'm runnin' through, nigga\nAnd I'm smokin' Junior M.A.F.I.A. in front of you, nigga\nWith the ready power tucked in my Guess under my Eddie Bauer\nYour clout petty\/sour, I push packages every hour; I hit 'em up!\nGrab your Glocks when you see 2Pac\nCall the cops when you see 2Pac, uh\nWho shot me? But you punks didn't finish\nNow you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace\nNigga, we hit 'em up!\n\nPeep how we do it, keep it real as penitentiary steel\nThis ain't no freestyle battle\nAll you niggas gettin' killed with your mouths open\nTryna come up off of me, you in the clouds hopin'\nSmokin' dope, it's like a sherm high\nNiggas think they learned to fly\nBut they burn, mothafucka, you deserve to die\nTalkin' about you gettin' money, but it's funny to me\nAll you niggas livin' bummy while you fuckin' with me\nI'm a self-made millionaire\nThug livin', out of prison, pistols in the air (Haha)\nBiggie, remember when I used to let you sleep on the couch\nAnd beg a bitch to let you sleep in the house?\nNow it's all about Versace, you copied my style\nFive shots couldn't drop me, I took it and smiled\nNow I'm back to set the record straight\nWith my AK, I'm still the thug that you love to hate\nMothafucka, I hit 'em up!\nI'm from N-E-W Jers' where plenty of murders occurs\nNo points or commas, we bring the drama to all you herbs\nNow go check the scenario: Little Cease\nI'll bring you fake G's to your knees, coppin' pleas in de Janeiro\nLittle Kim, is you coked up or doped up?\nGet your little Junior Whopper click smoked up\nWhat the fuck, is you stupid?\nI take money, crash and mash through Brooklyn\nWith my click lootin', shootin' and pollutin' your block\nWith a 15-shot cocked Glock to your knot\nOutlaw MAFIA clique movin' up another notch\nAnd your pop stars popped and get mopped and dropped\nAll your fake-ass East Coast props brainstormed and locked\n\nYou's a beat biter, a Pac style taker\nI'll tell you to your face, you ain't shit but a faker\nSofter than Aliz\u00e9 with a chaser\n'Bout to get murdered for the paper\nE.D.I. Mean approach the scene of the caper\nLike a loc, with Little Ceas' in a choke\nGun totin' smoke, we ain't no motherfuckin' joke\nThug Life, niggas better be knowin'\nWe approachin' in the wide open, gun smokin'\nNo need for hopin', it's a battle lost\nI got 'em crossed as soon as the funk is boppin' off\nNigga, I hit 'em up!\n\nNow you tell me who won\nI see them, they run, hahahaha\nThey don't wanna see us (Take money)\nWhole Junior M.A.F.I.A. clique dressin' up tryna be us (Take money)\nHow the fuck they gonna be the mob\nWhen we always on our job? (Take money)\nWe millionaires\nKillin' ain't fair, but somebody gotta do it (Take money)\nOh yeah, Mobb Deep, huh, you wanna fuck with us? (Take money)\nYou little young-ass mothafuckas (Take money)\nDon't one of you niggas got sickle-cell or somethin'? (Take money)\nYou're fuckin' with me, nigga\nYou fuck around and have a seizure or a heart attack (Take money)\nYou better back the fuck up\nBefore you get smacked the fuck up\nThis is how we do it on our side\nAny of you niggas from New York that wanna bring it, bring it!\nBut we ain't singin', we bringin' drama\nFuck you and yo' motherfuckin' mama!\nWe gon' kill all you motherfuckers!\nNow, when I came out, I told you it was just about Biggie\nThen everybody had to open their mouth with a motherfuckin' opinion\nWell, this is how we gonna do this: Fuck Mobb Deep! Fuck Biggie!\nFuck Bad Boy as a staff, record label, and as a motherfuckin' crew!\nAnd if you wanna be down with Bad Boy, then fuck you too!\nChino XL, fuck you too!\nAll you motherfuckers, fuck you too!\n(Take money, take money)\nAll of y'all motherfuckers, fuck you, die slow!\nMotherfucker, my .44 make sho' all y'all kids don't grow!\nYou motherfuckers can't be us or see us\nWe motherfuckin' Thug Life ridas\nWestside 'til we die!\nOut here in California, nigga, we warned ya\nWe'll bomb on you motherfuckers! We do our job!\nYou think you mob? Nigga, we the motherfuckin' mob!\nAin't nothin' but killas\nAnd the real niggas, all you motherfuckers feel us\nOur shit goes triple and 4-quadruple (Take money)\nYou niggas laugh 'cause our staff got guns under they motherfuckas belts\nYou know how it is: when we drop records, they felt\nYou niggas can't feel it, we the realest\nFuck 'em, we Bad Boy killas!"}
{"text":"Ooh, yeah (Ooh)\n(Come on, come on)\n\nI see no changes, wake up in the morning and I ask myself\nIs life worth livin'? Should I blast myself?\nI'm tired of bein' poor and, even worse, I'm black\nMy stomach hurts so I'm lookin' for a purse to snatch\nCops give a damn about a negro\nPull the trigger, kill a nigga, he's a hero\n\"Give the crack to the kids, who the hell cares?\nOne less hungry mouth on the welfare\"\nFirst ship 'em dope and let 'em deal to brothers\nGive 'em guns, step back, watch 'em kill each other\n\"It's time to fight back,\" that's what Huey said\nTwo shots in the dark, now Huey's dead\nI got love for my brother\nBut we can never go nowhere unless we share with each other\nWe gotta start makin' changes\nLearn to see me as a brother instead of two distant strangers\nAnd that's how it's supposed to be\nHow can the Devil take a brother if he's close to me? Uh\nI'd love to go back to when we played as kids\nBut things change, and that's the way it is\nYou might also like\n(Come on, come on)\nThat's just the way it is (Changes)\nThings'll never be the same\nThat's just the way it is (That's the way it is, what?)\nAww, yeah-yeah (Hear me)\n(Oh my, oh my, come on, come on)\nThat's just the way it is (That's just the way it is, the way it is)\nThings'll never be the same\n(Never be the same, yeah, yeah, yeah, aww, yeah)\nThat's just the way it is (Way it is)\nAww, yeah (Come on, come on)\nI see no changes, all I see is racist faces\nMisplaced hate makes disgrace to races\nWe under, I wonder what it takes to make this\nOne better place, let's erase the wasted\nTake the evil out the people, they'll be actin' right\n'Cause both black and white are smokin' crack tonight\nAnd the only time we chill is when we kill each other (Kill each other)\nIt takes skill to be real, time to heal each other\nAnd although it seems heaven-sent\nWe ain't ready to see a black president, uh (Oh-ooh)\nIt ain't a secret, don't conceal the fact\nThe penitentiary's packed and it's filled with blacks\nBut some things will never change (Never change)\nTry to show another way, but you stayin' in the dope game (Ooh)\nNow tell me, what's a mother to do?\nBein' real don't appeal to the brother in you (Yeah)\nYou gotta operate the easy way\n\"I made a G today,\" but you made it in a sleazy way\nSellin' crack to the kids (Oh-oh), \"I gotta get paid\" (Oh)\nWell hey, well that's the way it is\n(Come on, come on)\nThat's just the way it is (Changes)\nThings'll never be the same\nThat's just the way it is (That's the way it is, what?)\nAww, yeah (Hear me)\n(Oh my, oh my, come on, come on)\nThat's just the way it is (That's just the way it is, the way it is)\nThings'll never be the same\n(Never be the same, yeah, yeah, yeah, aww, yeah)\nThat's just the way it is (Way it is)\nAww, yeah (Aww, yeah, aww, yeah)\n\nWe gotta make a change\nIt's time for us as a people to start makin' some changes\nLet's change the way we eat\nLet's change the way we live\nAnd let's change the way we treat each other\nYou see, the old way wasn't workin'\nSo it's on us to do what we gotta do to survive\n\nAnd still I see no changes, can't a brother get a little peace?\nIt's war on the streets and the war in the Middle East (Ooh, yeah)\nInstead of war on poverty\nThey got a war on drugs so the police can bother me\nAnd I ain't never did a crime I ain't have to do\nBut now I'm back with the facts, givin' it back to you (Ooh)\nDon't let 'em jack you up, back you up\nCrack you up and pimp-smack you up\nYou gotta learn to hold your own\nThey get jealous when they see you with your mobile phone\nBut tell the cops they can't touch this\nI don't trust this, when they try to rush, I bust this\nThat's the sound of my tool, you say it ain't cool\nMy mama didn't raise no fool (Oh)\nAnd as long as I stay black, I gotta stay strapped\nAnd I never get to lay back\n'Cause I always got to worry 'bout the payback\nSome buck that I roughed up way back\nComin' back after all these years\n\"Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat,\" that's the way it is\n(Uh)\nThat's just the way it is (Just the way it is, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nThings'll never be the same (Yeah)\nThat's just the way it is (The way it is)\nAww, yeah (Some things will never change, oh my)\n(I'm tryna make a change)\n(You're my brother, you're my sister, yeah)\nThat's just the way it is (The way it is, the way it is)\nThings'll never be the same (You're my brother, you're my sister)\nThat's just the way it is, aww, yeah\nSome things'll never change"}
{"text":"Little something for my godson Elijah\nAnd a little girl named Corin\nSome say the blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice\nI say the darker the flesh, then the deeper the roots (Oh)\nI give a holla to my sisters on welfare\n2Pac cares if don't nobody else care (Oh)\nAnd, uh, I know they like to beat you down a lot\nWhen you come around the block, brothers clown a lot\nBut please don't cry, dry your eyes, never let up\nForgive, but don't forget, girl, keep ya head up\nAnd when he tells you you ain't nothin', don't believe him\nAnd if he can't learn to love you, you should leave him\n'Cause, sister, you don't need him\nAnd I ain't tryin' to gas you up, I just call 'em how I see 'em (You don't need him)\nYou know what makes me unhappy? (What's that?)\nWhen brothers make babies\nAnd leave a young mother to be a pappy (Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAnd since we all came from a woman\nGot our name from a woman and our game from a woman (Yeah, yeah)\nI wonder why we take from our women\nWhy we rape our women, do we hate our women?\n(Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?)\nI think it's time to kill for our women\nTime to heal our women, be real to our women\nAnd if we don't, we'll have a race of babies\nThat will hate the ladies that make the babies (Oh, yeah-yeah)\nAnd since a man can't make one\nHe has no right to tell a woman when and where to create one\nSo will the real men get up?\nI know you're fed up, ladies, but keep ya head up\nYou might also like\n(Keep ya head up)\nOoh, child, things are gonna get easier\n(Keep-keep ya head up)\nOoh, child, things'll get brighter\n(Oh-oh, keep ya head up)\nOoh, child, things are gonna get easier\n(Keep-keep ya head up)\nOoh, child, things'll get brighter\n\nAyo, I remember Marvin Gaye used to sing to me\nHe had me feelin' like black was the thing to be\nAnd suddenly the ghetto didn't seem so tough\nAnd though we had it rough, we always had enough\nI huffed and puffed about my curfew and broke the rules\nRan with the local crew and had a smoke or two\nI realize Mama really paid the price\nShe nearly gave her life to raise me right (Oh, yeah-yeah)\nAnd all I had to give her was my pipe dream\nOf how I'd rock the mic and make it to the bright screen\nI'm tryin' to make a dollar out of fifteen cents\nIt's hard to be legit and still pay your rent\nAnd in the end, it seems I'm headin' for the pen'\nI try to find my friends, but they're blowin' in the wind\nLast night, my buddy lost his whole family\nIt's gonna take the man in me to conquer this insanity (Oh, no, no, no)\nIt seems the rain'll never let up\nI try to keep my head up and still keep from gettin' wet up, huh\nYou know, it's funny, when it rains it pours\nThey got money for wars, but can't feed the poor\nSaid it ain't no hope for the youth\nAnd the truth is it ain't no hope for the future\nAnd then they wonder why we crazy, huh\nI blame my mother for turnin' my brother into a crack baby\nWe ain't meant to survive 'cause it's a set-up\nAnd even though you're fed up, huh, you got to keep ya head up\n(Keep ya head up)\nOoh, child, things are gonna get easier\n(Keep-keep ya head up)\nOoh, child, things'll get brighter\n(Oh-oh, keep ya head up)\nOoh, child, things are gonna get easier\n(Keep-keep ya head up)\nOoh, child, things'll get brighter\n\nAnd, uh, to all the ladies havin' babies on they own\nI know it's kinda rough and you're feelin' all alone\nDaddy's long gone and he left you by your lonesome\nThank the Lord for my kids even if nobody else want 'em\n'Cause I think we can make it, in fact, I'm sure\nAnd if you fall, stand tall and come back for more (Oh-oh)\n'Cause ain't nothin' worse than when your son\nWants to know why his daddy don't love him no mo'\nYou can't complain, you was dealt this hell of a hand\nWithout a man, feelin' helpless (I know you were)\nBecause there's too many things for you to deal with\nDyin' inside, but outside you're lookin' fearless\nWhile the tears is rollin' down your cheeks\nYou're steady hopin' things don't all fall this week (Yeah)\n'Cause if it did, you couldn't take it (Yeah)\nAnd don't blame me, I was given this world, I didn't make it (Oh, yeah)\nAnd now my son's gettin' older and older\nAnd cold from havin' the world on his shoulders\nWhile the rich kids is drivin' Benz\nI'm still tryin' to hold on to survivin' friends (Oh, yeah)\nAnd it's crazy, it seems it'll never let up\nBut, huh, please, you got to keep your head up"}
{"text":"\nMakaveli in this, Killuminati\nAll through your body (All through your body)\nThe blow is like a 12-Gauge shotty (Uh) feel me!\n(Come with me Hail Mary, nigga, run quick, see)\nAnd God said he should send his one begotten son\n(What do we have here now Do you wanna ride or die)\nTo lead the wild into the ways of the man\nFollow me! (La la-da-la la la la la)\nEat my flesh, flesh of my flesh!\n\nCome with me!\nHail Mary, nigga, run quick, see\nWhat do we have here now?\nDo you wanna ride or die?\nLa la-da-la la la la la\n\nI ain't a killer, but don't push me\nRevenge is like the sweetest joy next to gettin' pussy\nPicture paragraphs unloaded, wise words bein' quoted\nPeeped the weakness in the rap game and sewed it\nBow down, pray to God, hopin' that he's listenin'\nSeein' niggas comin' for me through my diamonds when they glistenin'\nNow pay attention: bless me please, Father, I'm a ghost\nIn these killing fields, Hail Mary, catch me if I go\nLet's go deep inside the solitary mind of a madman\nScreams in the dark, evil lurks, enemies see me flee\nActivate my hate, let it break to the flame\nSet trip, empty out my clip, never stop to aim\nSome say the game is all corrupt and fucked in this shit\nStuck, niggas is lucky if we bust out this shit\nPlus, Mama told me never stop until I bust a nut\nFuck the world if they can't adjust, it's just as well, Hail Mary\nYou might also like\nCome with me!\nHail Mary, nigga, run quick, see\nWhat do we have here now?\nDo you wanna ride or die?\nLa, da-da, da, da, da-da, da\nCome with me!\nHail Mary, nigga, run quick, see\nWhat do we have here now?\nDo you wanna ride or die?\nLa, da-da, da, da, da-da, da\n\nPenitentiaries is packed with promise-makers\nNever realized the precious time that bitch niggas is wastin'\nInstitutionalized, I live my life a product made to crumble\nBut too hardened for a smile, we're too crazy to be humble\nWe ballin', catch me, Father, please\n\u2018Cause I'm fallin' in the liquor store\nPass the Hennessy, I hear you callin', can I get some more?\nHell, 'til I reach Hell, I ain't scared\nMama checkin' in my bedroom, I ain't there\nI got a head with no screws in it, what can I do?\nOne life to live, but I got nothin' to lose\nJust me and you on a one-way trip to prison, sellin' drugs\nWe all wrapped up in this livin', life as thugs\nTo my homeboys in Clinton Max doin' their bid\nRaise hell to this real shit and feel this\nWhen they turn out the lights, I'll be there in the dark\nThuggin' eternal through my heart\nNow hail Mary, nigga!\nCome with me!\nHail Mary, nigga, run quick, see\nWhat do we have here now?\nDo you wanna ride or die?\nLa, da-da, da, da, da-da, da\nCome with me!\nHail Mary, nigga, run quick, see\nWhat do we have here now?\nDo you wanna ride or die?\nLa, da-da, da, da, da-da, da\n\nThey got a A-P-B out on my thug family\nSince Outlawz run these streets like these scandalous freaks\nOur enemies die now, walk around half-dead\nHead down, K-blasted off of Hennessy and Thai Chronic\nMixed in, now I'm twisted, blistered and high\nVisions of me thug-livin' gettin' me by\nForever live, and I multiply, survived by thugs\nWhen I die they won't cry unless they comin' with slugs\n\nPeep the whole scene and whatever's goin' on around me\nBrain kind of cloudy, smoked out, feelin' rowdy\nReady to wet the party up\nAnd whoever in that motherfucker, nasty new street slugger\nMy heat seeks suckers on the regular\nMashin' in a stolen Black Ac' Integra\nCocked back, sixty seconds 'til the draw, that's when I'm deadin' ya\nFeet first, you've got a nice Gat but my heat's worse\nFrom a thug to preachin' church\nI gave you love, now you eatin' dirt\nNeedin' work, and I ain't the nigga to put you on\n\u2018Cause word is bond\nWhen I was broke, I had to hustle 'til dawn\nThat's when the sun came up, there's only one way up\nHold your head and stay up\nTo all my niggas, get your pay and weight up\nIf it's on, then it's on, we rape beat-breaks\nOutlawz on a paper chase, can you relate?\nTo this shit I don't got be the shit I gotta take\nDealin' with fate, hopin' God don't close the gate\nIf it's on, then it's on, we rape beat-breaks\nOutlawz on a paper chase, can you relate?\nTo this shit I don't got be the shit I gotta take\nDealin' with fate, hopin' God don't close the gate\n\nCome with me!\nHail Mary, nigga, run quick, see\nWhat do we have here now?\nDo you wanna ride or die?\nWe've been travelin' on this weary road\nSometimes life can be a heavy load\nBut we ride, ride it like a bullet\nHail Mary, hail Mary (Hail Mary)\nWe won't worry, everything will curry\nFree like the bird in the tree\nWe won't worry, everything will curry\nYes, we free like the bird in the tree\nWe runnin' from the penitentiary\nThis is the time for we liberty\nHail Mary, hail Mary!\n\nWestside, Outlawz\nMakaveli the Don, solo\nKilluminati, The 7 Days"}
{"text":"You are appreciated\n\nWhen I was young, me and my mama had beef\nSeventeen years old, kicked out on the streets\nThough back at the time I never thought I'd see her face\nAin't a woman alive that could take my mama's place\nSuspended from school, and scared to go home\nI was a fool, with the big boys breakin' all the rules\nI shed tears with my baby sister, over the years\nWe was poorer than the other little kids\nAnd even though we had different daddies, the same drama\nWhen things went wrong we'd blame Mama\nI reminisce on the stress I caused, it was hell\nHuggin' on my mama from a jail cell\nAnd who'd think in elementary, hey\nI'd see the penitentiary one day?\nAnd runnin' from the police, that's right\nMama catch me, put a whoopin' to my backside\nAnd even as a crack fiend, Mama\nYou always was a black queen, Mama\nI finally understand\nFor a woman, it ain't easy tryin' to raise a man\nYou always was committed\nA poor single mother on welfare, tell me how you did it\nThere's no way I can pay you back\nBut the plan is to show you that I understand\nYou are appreciated\nYou might also like\nLady, don't you know we love ya? (Dear Mama)\nSweet lady, place no one above ya (You are appreciated)\nSweet lady, don't you know we love ya?\n\nNow, ain't nobody tell us it was fair\nNo love for my daddy, 'cause the coward wasn't there\nHe passed away and I didn't cry\n'Cause my anger wouldn't let me feel for a stranger\nThey say I'm wrong and I'm heartless, but all along\nI was lookin' for a father, he was gone\nI hung around with the thugs, and even though they sold drugs\nThey showed a young brother love\nI moved out and started really hangin'\nI needed money of my own, so I started slangin'\nI ain't guilty, 'cause even though I sell rocks\nIt feels good puttin' money in your mailbox\nI love payin' rent when the rent is due\nI hope you got the diamond necklace that I sent to you\n'Cause when I was low you was there for me\nYou never left me alone, because you cared for me\nAnd I could see you comin' home after work late\nYou're in the kitchen, tryin' to fix us a hotplate\nYou just workin' with the scraps you was given\nAnd Mama made miracles every Thanksgivin'\nBut now the road got rough, you're alone\nYou're tryin' to raise two bad kids on your own\nAnd there's no way I can pay you back\nBut my plan is to show you that I understand\nYou are appreciated\nLady, don't you know we love ya? (Dear Mama)\nSweet lady, place no one above ya (You are appreciated)\nSweet lady, don't you know we love ya?\n\nPour out some liquor and I reminisce\n'Cause through the drama, I can always depend on my mama\nAnd when it seems that I'm hopeless\nYou say the words that can get me back in focus\nWhen I was sick as a little kid\nTo keep me happy there's no limit to the things you did\nAnd all my childhood memories\nAre full of all the sweet things you did for me\nAnd even though I act crazy\nI gotta thank the Lord that you made me\nThere are no words that can express how I feel\nYou never kept a secret, always stayed real\nAnd I appreciate how you raised me\nAnd all the extra love that you gave me\nI wish I could take the pain away\nIf you can make it through the night, there's a brighter day\nEverything will be alright if you hold on\nIt's a struggle every day, gotta roll on\nAnd there's no way I can pay you back\nBut my plan is to show you that I understand\nYou are appreciated\nLady, don't you know we love ya? (Dear Mama)\nSweet lady, place no one above ya (You are appreciated)\nSweet lady, don't you know we love ya? (Dear Mama)\nSweet lady, lady (Dear Mama)\nLady, lady"}
{"text":"California love\n\nCalifornia knows how to party\nCalifornia knows how to party\nIn the city of L.A\nIn the city of good ol' Watts\nIn the city, the city of Compton\nWe keep it rockin', we keep it rockin'\n\nNow let me welcome everybody to the Wild Wild West\nA state that's untouchable like Eliot Ness\nThe track hits your eardrum like a slug to your chest\nPack a vest for your Jimmy in the city of sex\nWe in that sunshine state where the bomb-ass hemp be\nThe state where you never find a dance floor empty\nAnd pimps be on a mission for them greens\nLean mean money-making-machines servin' fiends\nI been in the game for ten years makin' rap tunes\nEver since honeys was wearin' Sassoon\nNow it's '95 and they clock me and watch me\nDiamonds shinin', lookin' like I robbed Liberace\nIt's all good, from Diego to the Bay\nYour city is the bomb if your city makin' pay\nThrow up a finger if you feel the same way\nDre puttin' it down for Californ-i-a\nYou might also like\nCalifornia knows how to party\nCalifornia knows how to party (Yes, they do)\nIn the city of L.A\nIn the city of good ol' Watts\nIn the city, the city of Compton\nWe keep it rockin', we keep it rockin'\n\nShake, shake it, baby\nShake, shake it, mama\nShake it, Cali\nShake it, shake it, baby\nShake it, shake it, shake it, shake it\nOut on bail, fresh out of jail, California dreamin'\nSoon as I step on the scene, I'm hearin' hoochies screamin'\nFiendin' for money and alcohol, the life of a Westside player\nWhere cowards die and the strong ball\nOnly in Cali where we riot, not rally, to live and die\nIn L.A. we wearin' Chucks, not Ballys (Yeah, that's right)\nDressed in Locs and Khaki suits, and ride is what we do\nFlossin' but have caution: we collide with other crews\nFamous because we throw grams\nWorldwide, let them recognize from Long Beach to Rosecrans\nBumpin' and grindin' like a slow jam\nIt's Westside, so you know the Row won't bow down to no man\nSay what you say, but give me that bomb beat from Dre\nLet me serenade the streets of L.A\nFrom Oakland to Sac-town, the Bay Area and back down\nCali is where they put their mack down; give me love!\nCalifornia knows how to party\nCalifornia knows how to party (Yes, they do)\nIn the city of L.A\nIn the city of good ol' Watts\nIn the city, the city of Compton\nWe keep it rockin', we keep it rockin'\n\nSouth Central\nUh, that's right\nNow make it shake\n\nShake, shake it, baby\nShake, shake it, mama\nShake it, Cali\nShake it, shake it, baby\nShake it, shake it, shake it, shake it\n\nShake it, Cali\nUh, uh, West Coast\nUh, yeah, uh, uh, Long Beach in the house\nUh, yeah, Oaktown\nOakland definitely in the house\nFrisco, Frisco\nAnd you know L.A. up in here\nPasadena, where you at?\nYeah, Inglewood\nInglewood always up to no good\nEven Hollywood tryin' to get a piece, baby\nSacramento, Sacramento where you at?\nThrow it up, y'all! Throw it up, throw it up!\nI can't see ya\nLet's show these fools how we do it over on this Westside\n'Cause you and I know it's the best side\nYeah, that's right\nWest Coast, West Coast"}
{"text":"I won't deny it, I'm a straight ridah\nYou don't wanna fuck with me\nGot the police bustin' at me\nBut they can't do nothin' to a G\nLet's get ready to rumble!\nNow, you know how we do it, like a G\nWhat really go on in the mind of a nigga\nThat get down for theirs\nConstantly, money over bitches\nNot bitches over money\nStay on your grind, nigga\nMy ambitions as a ridah\nMy ambitions as a ridah\n\nSo many battlefield scars while driven in plush cars\nThis life as a rap star is nothin' without guard\nWas born rough and rugged, addressin' the mass public (Hahaha)\nMy attitude was \"fuck it,\" 'cause motherfuckers love it\nTo be a soldier, must maintain composure at ease\nThough life is complicated, only what you make it to be\n(And, uh) And my ambitions as a ridah (Excuse me, baby)\nTo catch her while she hot and horny, go up inside her (Got ya)\nThen I spit some game in her ear, \"Go to the telly, ho!\"\nEquipped with money in a Benz 'cause, bitch, I'm barely broke (Hahaha)\nI'm smokin' bomb-ass weed, feelin' crucial\nFrom player to player, the game's tight, the feeling's mutual\nFrom hustlin' and prayers to breakin' motherfuckers to pay us\nI got no time for these bitches (Hell no), 'cause these hoes tried to play us\nI'm on a meal ticket mission, want a mil' so I'm wishin'\nCompetition got me blitzed on that bullshit they stressin' (Booyah)\nI'ma rhyme though, clown hoes like it's mandatory\nNo guts, no glory, my nigga, bitch got the game distorted\nNow it's on and it's on because I said so (Haha)\nCan't trust a bitch in the business so I got with Death Row (Yeah)\nNow these money-hungry bitches gettin' suspicious\nStarted plottin' and plannin' on a scheme to come and trick us (Haha)\nBut thug niggas be on point and game tight (Yeah)\nMe, Syke and Bogart are strapped up the same night\nGot problems, then handle it, motherfuckers see me\nThese niggas is jealous, 'cause deep in they hearts they wanna be me\nUh, yeah (Haha), and now you got me right beside ya\nHopin' you listen, I catch you payin' attention\nTo my ambitions as a ridah\nYou might also like\nI won't deny it, I'm a straight ridah\nYou don't wanna fuck with me (My ambitions as a ridah)\nGot the police bustin' at me\nBut they can't do nothin' to a G\n(I won't deny it, I'm a straight ridah)\n\nIt was my only wish to rise above these jealous\nCoward motherfuckers I despise, when it's time to ride\nI was the first to hop inside (Let's go, nigga, let's go), give me the .9\nI'm ready to die right here tonight and motherfuck they life (Yeah, nigga!)\nThat's what they screamin' as they drill me, but I'm hard to kill\nSo I open fire until you kill me, witness my steel (That's all you niggas got? Hahaha)\nSpittin' at adversaries, envious and after me\nI'd rather die before they capture me, watch me bleed\nMama (Dear Mama), come rescue me, I'm suicidal, thinkin' thoughts\nI'm innocent so there'll be bullets flyin' when I'm caught (Shoot)\nFuck doin' jail time, better day, sacrifice\nWon't get a chance to do me like they did my nigga Tyson\nThuggin' for life, and if you right, then, nigga, die for it\nLet them other bustas try, at least you tried for it (Hahaha)\nWhen it's time to die, then be a man and pick the way you leave (Yeah, nigga)\nFuck peace and the police, my ambitions as a ridah\nI won't deny it, I'm a straight ridah\nYou don't wanna fuck with me (My ambitions as a ridah)\nGot the police bustin' at me\nBut they can't do nothin' to a G\nMy murderous lyrics, equipped with spirits of the thugs before me\nStay off the block, evade the cops 'cause I know they comin' for me\nI been hesitant to reappear, been away for years (I'm back, baby)\nNow I'm back, my adversaries been reduced to tears\nQuestion my methods to switch up speeds, sure as some bitches bleed\nNiggas'll feel the fire of my mother's corrupted seed\n(Buck-buck-buck-buck-buck) Blast me but they didn't finish, didn't diminish\nMy powers, so now I'm back to be a motherfuckin' menace (Them niggas cowards)\nThey cowards, that's why they tried to set me up\nHad bitch-ass niggas (Bitch-ass niggas) on my team so indeed they wet me up (Punk niggas)\nBut I'm back reincarnated, incarcerated\nAt the time I contemplate the way that God made it\nLace 'em with lyrics that's legendary, musical mercenary\nFor money I'll have these motherfuckers buried\nI been gettin' much mail in jail, niggas tellin' me to kill it (Hahaha)\nKnowin' when I get out they gon' feel it (Yeah, right)\nWitness the realest, a who-ridah when I put the shit inside\nThe cries from all your people when they find her, must remind ya\n(Thug life) My history'll prove I been it\nRevenge on them niggas that played me and all the cowards that was down wit' it\nNow it's your nigga right beside ya\nHopin' you listen, got you payin' attention to my ambitions\nAs a ridah\n\nI won't deny it, I'm a straight ridah\nYou don't wanna fuck with me\n(My ambitions as a ridah)\nGot the police bustin' at me\nBut they can't do nothin' to a G\nI won't deny it, I'm a straight ridah\nYou don't wanna fuck with me\nGot the police bustin' at me\nBut they can't do nothin' to a G\nI won't deny it, I'm a straight ridah\nYou don't wanna fuck with me"}
{"text":"Big Syke, 'Nook, Hank, Bogart, Big Sur (yeah)\nY'all know how this shit go (you know)\nAll eyes on me\nMotherfuckin' OG\nRoll up in the club and shit, is that right?\nAll eyes on me\nAll eyes on me\nBut you know what?\n\nI bet you got it twisted, you don't know who to trust\nSo many player-hatin' niggas tryna sound like us\nSay they ready for the funk, but I don't think they knowin'\nStraight to the depths of Hell is where those cowards goin'\nWell, are you still down? Nigga, holla when you see me\nAnd let these devils be sorry for the day they finally freed me\nI got a caravan of niggas every time we ride\nHittin' motherfuckers up when we pass by\nUntil I die, live the life of a boss player\n'Cause even when I'm high, fuck with me and get crossed later\nThe futures in my eyes, 'cause all I want is cash and thangs\nA five-double-0 Benz, flauntin' flashy rings, uhh\nBitches pursue me like a dream\nBeen known to disappear before your eyes just like a dope fiend\nIt seems, my main thing was to be major paid\nThe game sharper than a motherfuckin' razor blade\nSay money bring bitches, bitches bring lies\nOne nigga's gettin' jealous and motherfuckers died\nDepend on me like the first and fifteenth\nThey might hold me for a second, but these punks won't get me\nWe got foe niggas and low riders in ski masks\nScreamin', \"Thug Life\" every time they pass, all eyes on me\nYou might also like\nLive the life of a thug nigga until the day I die\nLive the life of a boss player (All eyes on me) 'cause even gettin' high\nAll eyes on me\nLive the life of a thug nigga until the day I die\nLive the life of a boss player 'cause even gettin' high\n\nHey, to my nigga 'Pac\n\nSo much trouble in the world, nigga\nCan't nobody feel your pain\nThe world's changin' every day, time's movin' fast\nMy girl said I need a raise, how long will she last?\nI'm caught between my woman and my pistol and my chips\nTriple beam, got some smokers on, whistle as I dip\nI'm lost in the land with no plan, livin' life flawless\nCrime boss, contraband, let me toss this\nMediocres got a lot of nerve\nLet my bucket swerve, I'm takin' off from the curb\nThe nervousness neglect make me pack a TEC\nDevoted to servin' this Mo\u00ebt and pay checks\nLike Akai satellite, nigga, I'm forever ballin'\nIt ain't right: parasites, triggers, and fleas crawlin'\nSucker, duck and get busted, no emotion\nMy devotion is handlin' my business, nigga, keep on coastin'\nWhere you goin', I been there, came back as lonely, homie\nSteady flowin' against the grain, niggas still don't know me\nIt's about the money in this rap shit, this crap shit\nIt ain't funny, niggas don't even know how to act, shit\nWhat can I do? What can I say? Is there another way?\nBlunts and gin all day, 24 parlay\nMy little homie G, can't you see I'm buster-free?\nNiggas can't stand me; all eyes on me\nLive the life of a thug nigga until the day I die\nLive the life of a boss player 'cause even gettin' high\nAll eyes on me\nAll eyes on me\nLive the life of a thug nigga until the day I die\nLive the life of a boss player 'cause even gettin' high\nAll eyes on me\n\nThe feds is watchin', niggas plottin' to get me\nWill I survive? Will I die? Come on, let's picture the possibility\nGivin' me charges, lawyers makin' a grip\nI told the judge I was raised wrong and that's why I blaze shit\nWas hyper as a kid, cold as a teenager\nOn my mobile, callin' big shots on the scene major\nPackin' hundreds in my drawers, fuck the law\nBitches, I fuck with a passion, I'm livin' rough and raw\nCatchin' cases at a fast rate, ballin' in the fast lane\nHustle 'til the mornin', never stopped until the cash came\nLive my life as a thug nigga until the day I die\nLive my life as a boss player, 'cause even gettin' high\nThese niggas got me tossin' shit\nI put the top down, now it's time to floss my shit\nKeep your head up, nigga, make these motherfuckers suffer\nUp in the Benz, burnin' rubber\nThe money is mandatory, the hoes is for the stress\nThis criminal lifestyle, equipped with a bulletproof vest\nMake sure your eyes is on the meal ticket, get your money\nMotherfucker, let's get rich and we'll kick it; all eyes on me\nLive the life as a thug nigga until the day I die\nLive the life as a boss player 'cause even gettin' high\nAll eyes on me\nAll eyes on me\nLive the life of a thug nigga until the day I die\nLive the life of a boss player 'cause even gettin' high\nAll eyes on me\n\nPay attention, my niggas! See how that shit go?\nNigga walk up in this motherfucker and it be like, \"Bing!\"\nCops, bitches, every-motherfuckin'-body\n(Live my life as a thug nigga until the day I die)\n(Live my life as a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high)\nI got bustas, hoes, and police watchin' a nigga, you know?\n(I live my life as a thug nigga until the day I die)\n(Livin' life as a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high)\nHe he he, it's like what they think\nI'm walkin' around with some ki's in my pocket or somethin'\nThey think I'm goin' back to jail, they really on that dope\n(Live my life as a thug nigga until the day I die)\n(Live my life as a boss playa)\nI know y'all watchin', I know y'all got me in the scopes\n(Live my life as a thug nigga until the day I die)\n(Live my life as a boss playa, 'cause even gettin' high)\nI know y'all know this is Thug Life, baby!\nY'all got me under surveillance, huh?\nAll eyes on me, but I'm knowin'"}
{"text":"Up outta there\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\nEh, light that up, Snoop! Why you actin' like that?\nAhh shit, you done fucked up now\n(Ain't nothin' but a gangsta party)\nYou done put two of America's most wanted\nIn the same motherfuckin' place at the same motherfuckin' time?\n(Ain't nothin' but a gangsta party)\nHa, ha, ha, ha, y'all niggas about to feel this\n(Ain't nothin' but a gangsta party)\nBreak out the champagne glasses and the motherfuckin' condoms\nHave one on us, a'ight?\n(Ain't nothin' but a gangsta party)\nA toast to the gangsters\n\nPicture perfect, I paint a perfect picture\nBombin' hoochies with precision, my intention's to get richer\nWith the S-N double-O-P, Dogg, my fuckin' homie\nYou's a cold-ass nigga on them hogs\n\nSho 'nuff, I keep my hand on my gun\n'Cause they got me on the run\nNow I'm back in the courtroom, waitin' on the outcome\n\"Free 2Pac\" is all that's on a nigga's mind\nBut at the same time, it seems they tryin' to take mine\nSo I'ma get smart and get defensive and shit\nAnd put together a Million March for some gangsta shit\nYou might also like\nSo now they got us laced\nTwo multi-millionaire motherfuckers catchin' cases\nBitches, get ready for the throw down, the shit's about to go down\nMe and Snoop about to clown\nI'm losin' my religion, I'm vicious on these stool pigeons\nYou might be deep in this game, but you got the rules missin'\nNiggas be actin' like they savage, they out to get the cabbage\nI've got nothin' but love for my niggas livin' lavish\n\nI've got a pit named Petey, she Nigerino\nI've got a house out in the hills, right next to Chino\nAnd I think I've got a black Beamer\nBut my dream is to own a fly casino\nLike Bugsy Siegel, and do it all legal\nAnd get scooped up by the little homie in the Regal\nIt feels good to you, baby-bubba\nYou see, this is for the G's and the keys, motherfucker\n\nNow, follow as we ride!\nMotherfuck the rest, two of the best from the Westside!\nAnd I can make you famous\nNiggas been dyin' for years, so how can they blame us?\nI live in fear of a felony\nI never stop bailin' these motherfuckin' G's\nIf you got it, better flaunt it\nAnother warrant, 2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\n(Nothin' but a gangsta party)\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\n(Nothin' but a gangsta party\nIt ain't nothin' but a motherfuckin' gangsta party)\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\n(Nothin' but a gangsta party\nIt ain't nothin' but a motherfuckin' gangsta party)\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\n\nNow give me fifty feet, defeat is not my destiny\nRelease me to the streets, and keep whatever's left of me\nJealousy is misery, suffery is greed\nBetter be prepared when you cowards fuck with me\nI bust and flee\nThese niggas must be crazy, what?!\nThere ain't no mercy, motherfuckers, who can fade the thug?\nYou thought it was, but it wasn't, now disappear\nBow down in the presence of a boss player\n\nIt's like, Cuh, Blood, gang-bangin'\nEverybody in the party doin' dope-slangin'\nYou gotta have paper in this world\nYou might get your first snatch before your eyes swirl\nYou doin' your job every day\nAnd then you work so hard 'til your hair turn gray\nLet me tell you 'bout life and 'bout the way it is\nYou see, we live by the gun, so we die by the guns, kid\nThey tell me not to roll with my Glock\nSo now I got a throw-away\nFloatin' in the black Benz (Bitch), tryin' to do a show a day\nThey wonder how I live with five shots\nNiggas is hard to kill on my block\nSchemes for currency and dough-related\nAffiliated with the hustlers, so we made it\nNo answers to questions, I'm tryin' to get up on it\nMy nigga, Dogg, and me, eternally the most wanted\n\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\n(Nothin' but a gangsta party\nIt ain't nothin' but a motherfuckin' gangsta party)\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\n(Nothin' but a gangsta party\nIt ain't nothin' but a motherfuckin' gangsta party)\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\n(Nothin' but a gangsta party\nIt ain't nothin' but a motherfuckin' gangsta party)\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\n(Nothin' but a gangsta party\nIt ain't nothin' but a motherfuckin' gangsta party)\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\n\nBitch! Where you at? Where you at?\nAin't nothin' but a gangsta party\nYeah, Death Row"}
{"text":"How many brothers fell victim to the streets?\nRest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for a G\nBe a lie If I told you that I never thought of death\nMy niggas, we the last ones left, but life goes on\nHow many brothers fell victim to the streets?\nRest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for a G\nBe a lie If I told you that I never thought of death\nMy niggas, we the last ones left, but life goes on\n\nAs I bail through the empty halls, breath stinkin' in my jaws\nRing, ring, ring \u2014 quiet, y'all, incomin' call\nPlus this my homie from high school, he gettin' by\nIt's time to bury another brother, nobody cry\nLife as a baller: alcohol and booty calls\nWe used to do 'em as adolescents, do you recall?\nRaised as G's, loc'ed out, and blazed the weed\nGet on the roof, let's get smoked out, and blaze with me\nTwo in the morning and we still high, assed out\nScreamin', \"Thug 'til I die!\" before I passed out\nBut now that you're gone, I'm in the zone\nThinkin' I don't wanna die all alone, but now you gone\nAnd all I got left are stinkin' memories\nI love them niggas to death, I'm drinkin' Hennessy\nWhile tryin' to make it last\nI drank a fifth for that ass when you passed, 'cause life goes on\nYou might also like\nHow many brothers fell victim to the streets?\nRest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for a G\nBe a lie If I told you that I never thought of death\nMy niggas, we the last ones left, but life goes on\nHow many brothers fell victim to the streets?\nRest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for a G\nBe a lie If I told you that I never thought of death\nMy niggas, we the last ones left, and life goes on\n\nYeah nigga, I got the word it's hell\nYou blew trial and the judge gave you 25 with an L\nTime to prepare to do fed time, won't see parole\nImagine life as a convict that's gettin' old\nPlus with the drama, we're lookin' out for your baby's mama\nTakin' risks, while keepin' cheap tricks from gettin' on her\nLife in the hood is all good for nobody\nRemember gamin' on dumb hotties at yo' party\nMe and you, no truer two, while schemin' on hits\nAnd gettin' tricks that maybe we can slide into\nBut now you buried \u2014 rest, nigga, 'cause I ain't worried\nEyes blurry, sayin' goodbye at the cemetery\nThough memories fade\nI got your name tatted on my arm\nSo we both ball 'til my dyin' days\nBefore I say goodbye\nKato and Mental, rest in peace! Thug 'til I die!\nHow many brothers fell victim to the streets?\nRest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for a G\nBe a lie If I told you that I never thought of death\nMy niggas, we the last ones left, but life goes on\nHow many brothers fell victim to the streets?\nRest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for a G\nBe a lie If I told you that I never thought of death\nMy niggas, we the last ones left, 'cause life goes on\n\nBury me smilin' with G's in my pocket\nHave a party at my funeral, let every rapper rock it\nLet the hoes that I used to know\nFrom way befo' kiss me from my head to my toe\nGive me a paper and a pen, so I can write about my life of sin\nA couple bottles of gin, in case I don't get in\nTell all my people I'm a Ridah\nNobody cries when we die, we Outlawz, let me ride\nUntil I get free\nI live my life in the fast lane, got police chasin' me\nTo my niggas from old blocks, from old crews\nNiggas that guided me through back in the old school\nPour out some liquor, have a toast for the homies\nSee, we both gotta die, but you chose to go before me\nAnd brothers miss you while you gone\nYou left your nigga on his own; how long we mourn? Life goes on\nHow many brothers fell victim to the streets?\nRest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for a G\nBe a lie If I told you that I never thought of death\nMy niggas, we the last ones left, but life goes on\nHow many brothers fell victim to the streets?\nRest in peace, young nigga, there's a heaven for a G\nBe a lie If I told you that I never thought of death\nMy niggas, we the last ones left, but life goes on\n\nLife goes on, homie\nGone on, 'cause they passed away\nNiggas doin' life\nNiggas doin' 50 and 60 years and shit\nI feel you, nigga, trust me, I feel you\nYou know what I mean?\nLast year we poured out liquor for ya\nThis year, nigga, life goes on, we're gonna clock now\nGet money, evade bitches, evade tricks\nGive playa haters plenty of space\nAnd basically just represent for you, baby\nNext time you see your niggas, we gon' be on top, nigga\nYou gon' be like, \"Goddamn, them niggas came up!\"\nThat's right, baby, life goes on\nAnd we up out this bitch\nHey, Kato! Mental!\nY'all niggas make sure it's poppin'\nWhen we get up there, man, don't front\nLife goes on\nHold me no more, hold me no more\nYes it do, yes it do, yes it do"}
{"text":"27 ContributorsThe Rose That Grew From Concrete Lyrics* Poems written by Shakur as ~ interpreted by other artists\n\nYou try to plant somethin in the conrete, y'knowhatImean?\nIf it GROW, and the and the rose petal got all kind of\nScratches and marks, you not gon' say, \"Damn, look at\nAll the scratches and marks on the rose that grew from concrete\"\nYou gon' be like, \"Damn! A rose grew from the concrete?!\"\nSame thing with me, y'knahmean? I grew out of all of this\nInstead of sayin, \"Damn, he did this, he did this,\"\nJust be like, \"DAMN! He grew out of that? He came out of that?\"\nThat's what they should say, y'knowhatImean?\nAll the trouble to survive and make good out of the dirty, nasty\nY'knowhahatImean unbelievable lifestyle they gave me\nI'm just tryin to make somethin...\n\nWhen no one even cared\nThe rose it grew from concrete\nKeepin all these dreams\nProvin nature's laws wrong\nIt learned how to walk without havin feet\nIt came from concrete\n\nDid you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?\nProvin nature's laws wrong it learned how to walk without havin feet\nFunny it seems but, by keepin its dreams\nIt, learned to breathe FRESH air\nLong live the rose that grew from concrete\nWhen no one else even cared\nNo one else even cared...\nThe rose that grew from concrete\nYou might also like\nDid you hear..\nDid you hear about the rose that grew from a crack in the concrete?\nProvin' nature's laws wrong\nIt learned to walk without having feet\nFunny it seems but by keeping its dreams\nIt learned to breathe FRESH air\nLong live the rose that grew from concrete\nWhen no one else, even cared\n\nKeepin all these dreams\nProvin nature's laws wrong\nIt learned how to walk without havin feet (to breathe the fresh air)\nIt came from concrete (to breathe the fresh air)\n(to breathe the fresh air, to breathe the fresh air)\n\nYou see you wouldn't ask why the rose that grew from the concrete\nHad damaged petals. On the contrary, we would all celebrate its\nTenacity. We would all love it's will to reach the sun\nWell, we are the roses - this is the concrete - and these are\nMy damaged petals. Don't ask me why, thank God nigga, ask me how!\nHahahaha.."}
{"text":"Change, shit\nI guess change is good for any of us\nWhatever it take for any of y'all niggas to get up out the hood\nShit, I'm wit' ya, I ain't mad at cha\nGot nothin' but love for ya, do your thing, boy\nYeah, all the homies that I ain't talk to in a while\nI'ma send this one out for y'all\nKnow what I mean? 'Cause I ain't mad at cha\nHeard y'all tearin' up shit out there\nKickin' up dust, givin' a motherfuck\nYeah, niggas, 'cause I ain't mad at cha\n\nNow we was once two niggas of the same kind\nQuick to holla at a hoochie with the same line\nYou was just a little smaller, but you still rolled\nGot stretched to Y.A. and hit the hood swoll\n'Member when you had a Jheri curl, didn't quite learn\nOn the block, wit'cha Glock, trippin' off sherm\nCollect calls to the crib, sayin' how you've changed\nOh, you a Muslim now? No more dope game\nHeard you might be comin' home, just got bail\nWanna go to the mosque, don't wanna chase tail\nIt seems I lost my little homie, he's a changed man\nHit the pen' and now no sinnin' is the game plan\nWhen I talk about money, all you see is the struggle\nWhen I tell you I'm livin' large, you tell me it's trouble\nCongratulations on the weddin', I hope your wife know\nShe got a playa for life, and that's no bullshittin'\nI know we grew apart, you probably don't remember\nI used to fiend for your sister, but never went up in her\nAnd I can see us after school, we'd bomb\nOn the first motherfucker with the wrong shit on\nNow the whole shit's changed and we don't even kick it\nGot a big money scheme and you ain't even with it\nKnew in my heart you was the same motherfucker that\nGo toe to toe when it's time to roll, you got a brother's back\nAnd I can't even trip, 'cause I'm just laughin' at cha\nYou tryin' hard to maintain, then go ahead\n'Cause I ain't mad at cha\nYou might also like\nI ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\n\nWe used to be like distant cousins, fightin', playin' dozens\nWhole neighborhood buzzin', knowin' that we wasn't\nUsed to catch us on the roof or behind the stairs\nI'm gettin' blitzed and I reminisce on all the times we shared\nBesides bumpin' and grindin', wasn't nothin' on our mind\nIn time, we'd learned to live a life of crime\nRewind us back to a time was much too young to know\nI caught a felony, lovin' the way the guns blow\nAnd even though we separated, you said that you'd wait\nDon't give nobody no coochie while I'll be locked up state\nI kiss my mama goodbye and wipe the tears from her lonely eyes\nSaid I'll return but I gotta fight, the fate's arrived\nDon't shed a tear, 'cause mama, I ain't happy here\nI blew trial, no more smiles for a couple years\nThey got me goin' mad, I'm knockin' busters on they backs\nIn my cell, thinkin', \"Hell, I know one day I'll be back\"\nAs soon as I touch down\nI told my girl I'd be there, so prepare to get fucked down\nThe homies wanna kick it, but I'm just laughin' at cha\n'Cause you's a down-ass bitch and I ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nA true down-ass bitch and I ain't mad at cha\n\nWell, guess who's movin' up? This nigga's ballin' now\nBitches be callin' to get it, hookers keep fallin' down\nHe went from nothin' to lots, ten carats to rock\nWent from a nobody nigga to the big man on the block\nHe's Mr. Local-Celebrity, addicted to movin' ki's\nMost hated by enemies, escape in the luxury\nSee, first you was our nigga, but you made it so the choice is made\nNow we gotta slay you while you faded, in the younger days\nSo full of pain while the weapons blaze\nGettin' so high off that bomb, hopin' we make it to the better days\n'Cause crime pays, and in time, you'll find a rhyme'll blaze\nYou'll feel the fire from the niggas in my younger days\nSo many changed on me, so many tried to plot\nThat I keep a Glock beside my head, when will it stop?\n'Til God return me to my essence\n'Cause even as an adolescent, I refused to be a convalescent\nSo many questions and they ask me if I'm still down\nI moved up out of the ghetto, so I ain't real now?\nThey got so much to say, but I'm just laughin' at cha\nYou niggas just don't know, but I ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nHell nah, I ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nAnd I ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha\nI ain't mad at cha"}
{"text":"Only God can judge me (That right?)\nOnly God can judge me now\nNobody else (Nobody else)\nAll you other motherfuckers get out my business (Really)\nOnly God can judge me now\n\nPerhaps I was blind to the facts, stabbed in the back\nI couldn't trust my own homies, just a bunch of dirty rats\nWill I succeed? Paranoid from the weed\nAnd hocus pocus, try to focus, but I can't see\nAnd in my mind I'm a blind man doin' time\nLook to my future, \u2018cause my past is all behind me\nIs it a crime to fight for what is mine?\nEverybody's dyin', tell me what's the use in tryin'\nI've been trapped since birth, cautious \u2018cause I'm cursed\nAnd fantasies of my family in a hearse\nAnd they say it's the White man I should fear\nBut it's my own kind doin' all the killin' here\nI can't lie, ain't no love for the other side\nJealousy inside, make 'em wish I died\nOh my Lord, tell me what I'm livin' for\nEverybody's droppin', got me knockin' on Heaven's door\nAnd all my memories of seein' brothers bleed\nAnd everybody grieves, but still nobody sees\nRecollect your thoughts, don't get caught up in the mix\n\u2018Cause the media is full of dirty tricks\nYou might also like\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me now\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me\n\nFlatline\nI hear the doctor standin' over me, screamin' I can make it\nGot a body full of bullet holes, layin' here naked\nStill I can't breathe, something's evil in my IV\n\u2018Cause everytime I breathe I think they killin' me\nI'm havin' nightmares, homicidal fantasies\nI wake up strangled, entangled in my bed sheets\nI call the nurse \u2018cause it hurts to reminisce\nHow did it come to this? I wish they didn't miss\nSomebody help me, tell me where to go from here\n\u2018Cause even thugs cry, but do the Lord care?\nTry to remember but it hurts\nI'm walkin' through the cemetery, talkin' to the dirt\nI'd rather die like a man than live like a coward\nThere's a ghetto up in Heaven and it's ours\n\"Black Power!\" is what we scream\nAs we dream in a paranoid state\nAnd our fate is a lifetime of hate\nDear Mama, can you save me? And fuck peace\n\u2018Cause the streets got our babies, we gotta eat\nNo more hesitation, each and every black male's trapped\nAnd they wonder why we suicidal running 'round strapped\nMr. Police, please try to see\nThat there's a million motherfuckers stressin' just like me\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me now\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me\n\nThat which does not kill me can only make me stronger\nThat's for real\nAnd I don't see why everybody feel as though\nThat they gotta tell me how to live my life\nYou know?\nLet me live, baby, let me live\n\nPac, I feel ya, keep servin' it on the reala\nFor instance, say a playa-hatin' mark is out to kill ya\nWould you be wrong for buckin' a nigga to the pavement?\nHe gon' get me first, if I don't get him fool start prayin'\nAin't no such thing as self-defense in the court of law\nSo judge us when we get to where we're goin wearin' a cross\nThat's real, got him, lurked him, crept the fuck up on him\nSold a half a million tapes, now everybody want him\nAfter talkin' behind my back like a bitch would\nTellin' them niggas, \"You can fade him\"\nPunk, I wish you would\nIt be them same motherfuckers in your face\nThat'll rush up in your place to get your safe\nKnowin' you on that paper chase\nGrass, glass, big screen and leather couch\nMy new shit is so fetti, already sold a ki or ounce\nBitch, remember 2Pac and 4-Tay\nThe same two brothers dodgin' bullets, representin' the Bay\nPac, when you was locked down, that's when \"I'll Be Around\"\nStart climbin' up the charts, so sick, but they tried to clown\nThat's why they ride the bandwagon\nStill be draggin', sellin' lies\nDon't think I don't see you haters, I know y'all in disguise\nGuess you figure you know me, \u2018cause I'm a thug\nThat love to hit the late night clubs drink them Buds\nBeen livin' lavish like a player all day\nNow I'm 'bout to floss some boss player shit with 4-Tay\n\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me now\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me\nOnly God can judge me, only God\nOnly God can judge me\n\nOnly God man\nThat right?\nThat\u2019s real\nHahahahahaha\nFuck everybody else, you know what I\u2019m sayin'?\nMan, look here, man\nMy only fear of death\nIs comin' back to this bitch reincarnated, man\nThat\u2019s for the homie mental\nHehehehe\nWe up out"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsRunnin\u2019 (Dying to Live) Lyrics\nBetween you and Biggie it was like, who's gon\u2019\u2014who\u2019s gon\u2019\u2014 who rules the nigga kingdom and shit, basically, you know what I'm saying? I was like, this is like a fucking\nIt is that\nElection. It\u2019s an election and shit\nIt is that\nYou know what I am saying?\nMe and Biggie's situation is smaller than that. Me and Biggie\u2019s situation is like\u2026\nYou know, I wonder if they'll laugh when I'm dead\nWhy am I fighting to live if I'm just living to fight?\n(You don't know?)\nWhy am I trying to see when there ain't nothing in sight?\nWhy am I trying to give when no one gives me a try?\nWhy am I dying to live if I'm just living to die?\nCheck it, I grew up a fuckin' screw-up\nGot introduced to the game, got a ounce and fuckin' blew up\nChoppin' rocks overnight\nThe nigga Biggie Smalls tryna turn into the black Frank White\nWe had to grow dreads to change our description\nTwo cops is on the milk box missin'\nShow they toes, you know they got stepped on\nA fistful of bullets, a chest full of Teflon\nRun from the police, picture that\nNigga, I'm too fat, I fuck around and catch a asthma attack\nThat's why I bust back, it don't faze me\nWhen he drop, take his Glock and I'm Swayze\nCelebrate my escape, sold the Glock, bought some weight\nLay back, I got some money to make, motherfucker\nYou might also like\nYou know, I wonder if they'll laugh when I'm dead\nWhy am I fighting to live if I'm just living to fight?\nWhy am I trying to see when there ain't nothing in sight?\nWhy am I trying to give when no one gives me a try?\nWhy am I dying to live if I'm just living to die?\n(It's on me)\nBut still I'm havin' memories of high speed when the cops crashed\nAs I laugh, pushin' the gas while my Glocks blast\nWe was young and we was dumb, but we had heart\nIn the dark, will we survive through the bad parts?\nMany dreams is what I had, and plenty wishes\nNo hesitation in extermination of these snitches\nEnvious bitches, they still continue to pursue me\nA couple of movies, now the whole world's tryna screw me\nEven the cops tried to sue me, so what can I do?\nBut stay true, sippin' 22's of brew\nAnd now media is tryna test me\nGot the press askin' questions, tryna stress me\nMisery is all I see, that's my mind state\nMy history with the police will shake the crime rate\nMy main man had two strikes, slipped, got arrested, and flipped\nHe screamed \"Thug Life!\" and emptied the clip\nGot tired of runnin' from the police\nYou know, I wonder if they'll laugh when I'm dead\nWhy am I fighting to live if I'm just living to fight?\nWhy am I trying to see when there ain't nothing in sight?\nWhy am I trying to give when no one gives me a try?\nWhy am I dying to live if I'm just living to die?\n\nThey wanted a new regime. And my regime includes East coast, includes West coast\n\nI was more shocked than anything\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\nBut I wasn't more shocked of him dying\nI was more shocked of him\u2026 Pac is a strong dude, yo\nI know dude, you know what I'm sayin'? Real strong\nSo when they was like he got shot, I was just more like, \"Again?\" you know what I'm sayin'?\nHe always getting shot, or shot at\nHe going to pull through this one again\nMake a few records about it, and it's going to be over\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\nBut when he, when he died, I was just like, \"whoa\", you know what I'm saying? Kinda took me by\nI mean, even though we was going through our drama\nI would never wish death on nobody\nYou know what I'm sayin'?\nBecause there ain't no coming back from that"}
{"text":"It's just me against the world\nNothin' to lose\nIt's just me against the world, baby\nI got nothin' to lose\nIt's just me against the world\nStuck in the game\nMe against the world, baby\n\nCan you picture my prophecy?\nStress in the city, the cops is hot for me\nThe projects is full of bullets\nThough bodies is droppin' there ain't no stoppin' me\nConstantly movin' while makin' millions\nWitnessin' killings, leavin' dead bodies in abandoned buildings\nCan't reach the children, 'cause they're illin'\nAddicted to killin' and the appeal from the cap peelin'\nWithout feelin', but will they last or be blasted?\nHard-headed bastard, maybe he'll listen in his casket\nThe aftermath: more bodies bein' buried\nI'm losin' my homies in a hurry, they're relocatin' to the cemetery\nGot me worried, stressin', my vision's blurry\nThe question is will I live, no one in the world loves me\nI'm headed for danger, don't trust strangers\nPut one in the chamber whenever I'm feelin' this anger\nDon't wanna make excuses\n'Cause this is how it is, what's the use?\nUnless we're shootin', no one notices the youth\nIt's just me against the world, baby\nYou might also like\nMe against the world\nIt's just me against the world\nIt's just me against the world\nMe against the world\n'Cause it's just me against the world, baby (Hey)\nMe against the world (Ooh yeah)\nI got nothin' to lose\nIt's just me against the world, baby\nI got nothin' to lose\n\nCould somebody help me? I'm out here all by myself, see\nLadies in stores, Baby Capone's, livin' wealthy\nPictures of my birth on this Earth is what I'm dreamin'\nSeein' Daddy's semen, full of crooked demons\nAlready crazy and screamin', I guess them nightmares as a child\nHad me scared but left me prepared for a while\nIs there another route for a crooked Outlaw?\nVeteran, a villain, a young thug, who one day shall fall\n\nEveryday there's mo' death, and plus I'm dough-less\nI'm seein' more reasons for me to proceed with thievin'\nScheme on the schemin' and leave they peeps grievin'\n'Cause ain't no bucks to stack up\nMy nuts is backed up, I'm about to act up\nGo load the MAC up, now watch me klacka\nTried makin' fat cuts, but yo, it ain't workin'\nAnd evil's lurkin', I can see him smirkin' when I gets to pervin'\nSo what? Go put some work in and make my mail\nMakin' sales, riskin' 25 with a L, but oh well\nMe against the world\nWith nothin' to lose (Ooh yeah)\nIt's just me against the world\nIt's just me against the world, baby\nMe against the world\nI got nothin' to lose\nIt's just me against the world\nIt's just me against the world, baby\nWith nothin' to lose\nIt's just me against the world, baby\nMe against the world\nMe against the world\nI got nothin' to lose\nIt's just me against the world, baby\nWith all this extra stressin'\nThe question I wonder is after death, after my last breath\nWhen will I finally get to rest through this oppression?\nThey punish the people that's askin' questions\nAnd those that possess steal from the ones without possessions\nThe message I stress: to make it stop, study your lessons\nDon't settle for less, even the genius asks his questions\nBe grateful for blessings\nDon't ever change, keep your essence\nThe power is in the people and politics we address\nAlways do your best, don't let this pressure make you panic\nAnd when you get stranded\nAnd things don't go the way you planned it\nDreamin' of riches, in a position of makin' a difference\nPoliticians are hypocrites, they don't wanna listen\nIf I'm insane, it's the fame made a brother change\nIt wasn't nothin' like the game; it's just me against the world\nMe against the world\nNothin' to lose\nIt's just me against the world, baby\nMe against the world\nGot me stuck in the game (Ooh yeah)\nIt's just me against the world\nNothin' to lose\nIt's just me against the world, baby\nMe against the world\n\nHahaha, that's right\nI know it seem hard sometimes\nBut, uh, remember one thing\nThrough every dark night, there's a bright day after that\nSo no matter how hard it get\nStick your chest out, keep your head up, and handle it"}
{"text":"The blind stares of a million pairs of eyes\nLookin' hard but won't realize\nThat they will never see the P!\nYou must be goin' blind\n\nGive me my money in stacks and lace my bitches with dime figures\nReal niggas fingers on nickel-plated 9 triggers\nMust see my enemies defeated\nI catch 'em while they coked up and weeded\nOpen fire, now them niggas bleedin'\nSee me in flesh and test and get your chest blown\nStraight out the West, don't get blown\nMy adversaries cry like hoes, open and shut like doors\nIs you a friend or foe? Nigga, you ain't know?\nThey got me stressed out on Death Row\nI've seen money, but baby, I've gots to get mo'\nYou screamin', \"Go 2Pac!\" and I ain't stoppin' till I'm well-paid\nBail's paid now, nigga, look what hell made\nVisions of cops and sirens, niggas open fire\nBunch of Thug Life niggas on the rise, until I die\nAsk me why I'm a boss player gettin' high\nAnd when I'm rollin' by niggas can't see me!\n\nThe stares of a million pairs of eyes\nAnd you'll never realize\nYou can't see me\nYou might also like\nBeen gettin' word that these square motherfuckers with nerves\nSayin' they can get with us, but picture me gettin' served\nMy own mama say I'm thugged out\nMy shit be poppin' out the record store as if it was a drug house\nMy lyrics bang like a Crip or Blood\nNigga, what? It ain't nothin' but a party when we thug\nAnd there I was, a young nigga with heart, ain't had shit to lose\nPullin' my pistol on them fools, you know the rules\nD-R-E, you got me heated; my words like a penitentiary dick\nHittin' bitches where it's most needed\nMoney and weed, Aliz\u00e9 and Hennessy\nTo my thug niggas in lock down: witness me\nBail on these hoes in floss-mode\nThe life of a boss player, fuck what you thought though\nMy enemies deceased\nDie like a bitch when my album hit the streets; niggas can't see me!\n\nNiggas can't see me\nThey can't see me\nWhich way did he go, George?\nWhich way did he go?\nOh!! Which way did he go?\nWhich way did he go?\nYou niggas made a mistake\nYou should've never put my rhymes with Dre\nThem thug niggas have arrived and it's judgement day\nHey homie, if you feel me\nTell them tricks that shot me that they missed, they ain't kill me\nI can make a motherfucker shake, rattle and roll\nI'm full of liquor, thug nigga, quick to jab at them hoes\nAnd I can make you jealous niggas famous\nFuck around with 2Pac and see how good a nigga's aim is\nI'm just a rich motherfucker from the way\nIf this rappin' bring me money, then I'm rappin' till I'm paid\nI'm gettin' green like I'm supposed to\nNigga, I holla at these hoes and see how many I can go through\nLook to the star and visualize my debut\nNiggas know me, player, I gotta stay true\nDon't be a dumb motherfucker 'cause it's crazy after dark\nWhere the true thug-niggas see your heart; niggas can't see me!\n\nYo, check this out: stay off his dick\n\nNiggas can't see me\nRight before your eyes, I'll disappear from here\nYou niggas can't see me\nYou can't see me\nI know it's hard nigga, I'm all up in your face\nBut you still can't see me\nYou can't see me\nAll up in your range, but niggas can't see me\n20\/20 vision won't visualize\nI'm in the flesh, baby, but you can't see me\nAll those glasses won't help you realize\nYou blinded, you blinded, you can't see me\nYou can't see me\nThug Life, baby\nDon't believe everything you read! Aliz\u00e9 and weed\nYou can't see me, right before your very eyes\nYou won't even visualize, you can't see me\nDr. Dre all day, 2Pac\nNiggas can't see me\nI dedicate this to you punk motherfuckers!\nThis one's for you, BIG baby\n'Cause you bitch-ass niggas can't see me\nNiggas can't see me\nYou can't see me\nSee no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil\nYou won't see me\nYeah, first you see me, now you don't\nWanna see me, but you won't\nCome to see me, but you can't\nOh, you can't see me\nYou can't see me\nRight between your eyes and you'll never realize\nRight before your eyes, you won't even realize\nVisualize what you can't see"}
{"text":"Turn it up loud\nHahaha, ahahaha, hey man\nYou a little sucker for love, Pac!\nWord up, hahahahaha\n\nI should've seen\nYou was trouble right from the start, taught me so many lessons\nHow not to mess with broken hearts, so many questions\nWhen this began we was the perfect match, perhaps\nWe had some problems but we workin at it, and now\nThe arguments are gettin' loud, I wanna stay\nBut I can\u2019t help from walkin' out just throw it away\nJust take my hand and understand, if you could see\nI never planned to be your man it just wasn\u2019t me\nBut now I\u2019m searchin\u2019 for commitment, in other arms\nI wanna shelter you from harm, don\u2019t be alarmed\nYour attitude was the cause, you got me stressin\u2019\nSoon as I open up the door with your jealous questions\nLike where can I be you're killin' me with your jealousy\nNow my ambition's to be free\nI can't breathe, cause soon as I leave, it's like a trap\nI hear you callin' me to come back, I'm a sucka for love\n\nWhat you won\u2019t do, do for love?\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\nWhat you won\u2019t do, do for love?\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\nYou might also like\nJust when I thought I broke away and I'm feelin' happy\nYou try to trap me say you pregnant and guess who the daddy\nDon\u2019t wanna fall for it, but in this case what could I do? So now I\u2019m back\nTo makin promises to you, tryin' to keep it true\nWhat if I\u2019m wrong, a trick to keep me holdin on\nTryin\u2019 to be strong and in the process, keep you goin'\nI\u2019m 'bout to lose my composure, I\u2019m gettin\u2019 close\nTo packin\u2019 up and leavin\u2019 notes, and gettin\u2019 ghost\nTell me who knows, a peaceful place where I can go\nTo clear my head I\u2019m feelin' low, losin\u2019 control\nMy heart is sayin\u2019 leave, oh, what a tangled web we weave\nWhen we conspire to conceive, and now\nYou gettin\u2019 calls at the house, guess you cheatin\u2019\nThat\u2019s all I need to hear, 'cause I\u2019m leavin\u2019, I\u2019m out the door\nNever no more will you see me, this is the end\n'Cause now I know you\u2019ve been cheatin', I\u2019m a sucka for love\nWhat you won\u2019t do, do for love?\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\nWhat you won\u2019t do, do for love?\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\n\nNow he left you with scars, tears on your pillow and you still stay\nAs you sit and pray, hoping the beatings\u2019ll go away\nIt wasn\u2019t always a hit-and-run relationship\nIt used to be love, happiness and companionship\nRemember when I treated you good\nI moved you up to the hills, out the ills of the ghetto hood\nMe and you a happy home, when it was on\nI had a love to call my own\nI should've seen you was trouble but I was lost, trapped in your eyes\nPreoccupied with gettin\u2019 tossed, no need to lie\nYou had a man and I knew it, you told me\nDon\u2019t worry 'bout it, we can do it now I\u2019m under pressure\nMake a decision, 'cause I\u2019m waitin\u2019, when I\u2019m alone\nI\u2019m on the phone havin\u2019 secret conversations, huh\nI wanna take your misery, replace it with happiness\nBut I need your faith in me, I\u2019m a sucka for love\nWhat you won\u2019t do, do for love?\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\nWhat you won\u2019t do, do for love?\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\n\nWhat you won\u2019t do, do for love\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\nWhat you won\u2019t do, do for love\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\nWhat you won\u2019t do, (Do for love)\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\nWhat you won\u2019t do, (Do for love)\nYou tried everything, but you don\u2019t give up\nDo for love, yeah baby yeah\nDo for love"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsAll About U Lyrics\nAh, yeah! Hahaha (Yeah)\nIt's all about you, one time (I'ma say it's all about you, baby, yeah)\nHaha, for the bitches that think it's all about you (It's all about you) (This Dru Down in the house\nWith my boy 'Pizznac, you know what I'm sayin'?)\nIt's all about you (Yeah, I'm gon' say it's all about you\nBut you know I'm lyin' though, ha! Yeah)\n\nYou probably crooked as the last trick\nWant to laugh at how I got my ass caught up with this bad bitch?\nThinkin' I had her, but she had me in the long run\nIt's just my luck, I'm stuck with fuckin' with the wrong one\nWise decisions, based on lies we livin'\nScandalous times, this game's like my religion\nYou could be rollin' with a thug\nInstead you with this weak scrub, lookin' for some love\nIn every club, I see you starin' like you want it\nWell, baby, if you got it, better flaunt it\nLet the liquor help you get up on it\nI'm still tipsy from last night\nBumpin' these walls as I pause, addicted to the fast life\nI try to holla, but you tell me you taken\nSayin' you ain't impressed with the money I'm makin'\nGuess it's true what they tellin' me\nFresh out of jail, life's hell for a black celebrity\nSo that's the reason why I call, and maybe you with it\nFantasies of us sweatin', can I hit it? (Hell no)\nAddicted to the things you do\nBut still true what I'm sayin', boo, \u2018cause this is all about you\nYou might also like\nEvery other city we go, every other video (It's all about you)\nNo matter where I go, I see the same hoes (It's all about you)\nEvery other city we go, every other video (It's all about you)\nNo matter where I go, I see the same hoes\n\nI make a promise if you go with me\nJust let me know, I'll have you hollerin' my name out before I leave\nNobody loves me, I'm a thug nigga\nI only hung out with the criminals and drug dealers\nI love niggas 'cause we comin' from the same place\nWitness me holla at a hoochie, see how quick the game takes\nHow can I tell her I'm a playa and I don't even care?\nCreep though, weed smoke's in the air\nEverywhere I go, it's all about the groupie hoes\nWaitin' for niggas at the end of every show\nI just seen you in my friend's video\nCould never put a bitch before my friends, so here we go\nFollow the leader and peep the drama that I'm goin' through\nIt's all about you\nYeah, nigga, it's all about you\n\nEvery other city we go, every other video (It's all about you)\nNo matter where I go, I see the same hoes\nEvery other city we go, every other video (It's all about you)\nNo matter where I go, I see the same hoes\nIs you sick from the dick, or is it the flu?\nIt ain't about you or your bitch-ass crew\nEvery other city we go and every video\nExplain to a nigga why I see the same shitty ho?\nYou think it's all about you? Well, boo\nI gets down like Dru, and my nasty new niggas, too\n\nYou couldn't hold me back, it'd take a fatter track\nA lyrical attack, perhaps, it was a visual bluff\nWhen I started to snaps all your rode 'em swoll\nStraight in control, flows'll fold, while hoes cold stroll\nHold the set, I told Dramacy' go in next\nGold diggin', cold diggin' a gold Rolex\n\nI slide in easily, try a grizzly\nSluts know the cut, I came to fuck, try skeezin' me\nRunnin' up in ya just like Bruce Jenner when I bend ya\nAt the most, I fucked a bitch from the West Coast to West Virginia\n(It's all about you)\n\nEvery other city we go, every other video (It's all about you)\nNo matter where I go, I see the same hoes\nEvery other city we go, every other video (It's all about you)\nNo matter where I go, I see the same hoes\nEvery other city we go, every other video (It's all about you)\nNo matter where I go, I see the same hoes\nEvery other city we go, every other video\nNo matter where I go, I see the same hoes\nI'm tellin' ya, it's the same old shit\nI mean, goddamn, you know what I'm sayin'?\nI'm sittin' back, watchin' Montell Jordan video\nI see the same bitch who was in my homeboy Nate Dogg video\nThen I flip the channel, I'm checkin' out my homeboy 2Pac video\nI see the same bitch that was in my video\nYou know what I'm sayin'? And then, you know what I'm sayin'?\nWhat make that even more fucked up\nI'm watchin' a Million Man March\nAnd I see the same bitch on the Million Man March\nThat was in the homeboy Warren G video!\nI mean, damn, everywhere I look, everywhere I go\nI see the same ho\nDon't get mad, I'm only bein' real, yeah"}
{"text":"'Round and 'round (Aw yeah)\n'Round and 'round, 'round we go (I get around)\n'Round and 'round\nStill clown with the Underground, when we come around\n(Step up, step-step up, step up)\n'Round and 'round, 'round we go (stronger than ever)\n'Round and 'round\n\nBack to get wrecked, all respect\nTo those who break their neck to keep their hoes in check\n\u2018Cause, oh, they sweat a brother majorly\nAnd I don't know why your girl keeps pagin' me\nShe tell me that she needs me, cries when she leaves me\nAnd every time she sees me, she squeeze me\u2014lady, take it easy!\nHate to sound sleazy, but tease me\nI don't want it if it's that easy,\nAyo, bust it, baby got a problem saying \"Bye-bye\"\nJust another hazard of a fly guy\nYou ask \"Why?\", don't matter, my pockets got fatter\nNow everybody's lookin' for the latter\nAnd ain't no need in being greedy, if you wanna see me\nDial the beeper number, baby, when you need me\nAnd I'll be there in a jiffy\nDon't be picky, just be happy with this quickie\nWhen will ya learn you can't tie me down\nBaby doll, check it out: I get around\nYou might also like\nWhat you mean you don't know?\nRound and round, around we go\nI get around, the Underground just don't stop for hoes\nRound and round\nI get around, still down with the Underground\nRound and round, around we go\nI get around, yeah, ayo Shock, let them hoes know\nRound and round\n\nNow you can tell from my everyday fits I ain't rich\nSo cease and desist with them tricks (Tricks)\nI'm just another black man caught up in the mix (mix)\nTryna make a dollar out of 15 cents (A dime and a nickel)\nJust 'cause I'm a freak don't mean that we could hit the sheets\nBaby, I can see, that you don't recognize me\nI'm Shock G, the one who put the satin on your panties\nNever knew a hooker that could share me; I get around\n\nWhat's up, love? How you doin'? (All right)\nWell, I've been hangin', sangin' tryna do my thang, oh, you heard that I was bangin'\nYour homegirl you went to school with? That's cool\nBut did she tell you about her sister and your cousin? Thought I wasn't (Uhh)\nSee, weekends were made for Michelob\nBut it's a Monday, my day, so just let me hit it, yo\nAnd don't mistake my statement for a clown\nWe can keep in the down low, long as you know that I get around\n'Round and 'round, around we go\n2Pacalypse Now don't stop for hoes, I get around\n'Round and 'round\n'Round and 'round, around we go\nWhy I ain't call you? Hahahah, please!\n'Round and 'round\n\nFingertips on the hips as I dip\nGotta get a tight grip, don't slip; loose lips sink ships\nIt's a trip, I love the way she licks her lips, see me jockin'\nPut a little twist in her hips \u2018cause I'm watchin'\nConversations on the phone 'til the break of dawn\nNow we're all alone, why the lights on?\nTurn them off! Time to set it off, get you wet and soft\nSomethin' is on your mind, let it off\nYou don't know me, you just met me, you won't let me\nWell, if I couldn't have it (Silly rabbit) why you sweatin' me?\nIt's a lot of real Gs doin' time\n'Cause a groupie bent the truth and told a lie\nYou picked the wrong guy, baby, if you're too fly\nYou need to hit the door, search for a new guy\n'Cause I only got one night in town\nBreak out or be clowned, baby doll are you down?\nI get around\n'Round and 'round, around we go\n'Round and 'round, around we go, uhh\n'Round and 'round, around we go\n'Round and 'round, around we go\n'Round and 'round, 'round we go\n'Round and 'round, 'round we go\n'Round and 'round, 'round we go, whoa\n'Round and 'round we go\n'Round and 'round\n'Round and 'round\n'Round and 'round\n'Round and 'round"}
{"text":"I shall not fear no man but God\nThough I walk through the valley of death\nI shed so many tears\nIf I should die before I wake\nPlease God walk with me\nGrab a nigga and take me to Heaven\n\nBack in elementary, I thrived on misery\nLeft me alone, I grew up amongst a dyin' breed\nInside my mind couldn't find a place to rest\nUntil I got that Thug Life tatted on my chest\nTell me, can you feel me? I'm not livin' in the past\nYou wanna last? Be the first to blast\nRemember Kato, no longer with us, he's deceased\nCall on the sirens, seen him murdered in the streets\nNow he rest in peace\nIs there a heaven for a G? Remember me\nSo many homies in the cemetery, shed so many tears\n\nAhh, I suffered through the years\nAnd shed so many tears\nLord, I lost so many peersAnd shed so many tears\nYou might also like\nNow that I'm strugglin' in this business, by any means\nLabel me greedy gettin' green, but seldom seen\nAnd fuck the world 'cause I'm cursed\nI'm havin' visions of leavin' here in a hearse\nGod, can you feel me?\nTake me away from all the pressure and all the pain\nShow me some happiness again\nI'm goin' blind, I spend my time in this cell, ain't livin' well\nI know my destiny is Hell, where did I fail?\nMy life is in denial and when I die\nBaptized in eternal fire, I'll shed so many tears\nLord, I suffered through the years\nAnd shed so many tears\nLord, I lost so many peers\nAnd shed so many tears\n\nNow I'm lost and I'm weary, so many tears\nI'm suicidal, so don't stand near me\nMy every move is a calculated step\nTo bring me closer to embrace an early death\nNow there's nothin' left\nThere was no mercy on the streets\nI couldn't rest, I'm barely standin'\nAbout to go to pieces, screamin' peace\nAnd though my soul was deleted, I couldn't see it\nI had my mind full of demons tryin' to break free\nThey planted seeds and they hatched, sparkin' the flame\nInside my brain like a match, such a dirty game\nNo memories, just a misery\nPaintin' a picture of my enemies killin' me in my sleep\nWill I survive 'til the morning to see the sun?\nPlease Lord, forgive me for my sins, 'cause here I come\nLord! (God!)\nI suffered through the years\nAnd shed so many tears\nGod, I lost so many peers\n\nLord knows I, tried, been a witness to homicide\nSeen drive-by's takin' lives, little kids die\nWonder why as I walk by\nBroken-hearted as I glance at the chalk line, gettin' high\nThis ain't the life for me, I wanna change\nBut ain't no future bright for me, I'm stuck in the game\nI'm trapped inside a maze\nSee this Tanqueray influenced me to gettin' crazy\nDisillusioned lately, I've been really wantin' babies\nSo I could see a part of me that wasn't always shady\nDon't trust my lady 'cause she's a product of this poison\nI'm hearin' noises, think she's fuckin' all my boys\nCan't take no more, I'm fallin' to the floor\nBeggin' for the Lord to let me in to Heaven's door\nShed so many tears (God please help me)\n\nLord, I lost so many years (I suffered through the years)\nAnd shed so many tears\nI lost so many peers\nAnd shed so many tears\nLord, I suffered through the years\nAnd shed so many tears\nGod, I lost so many peers\nAnd shed so many tears"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsGhetto Gospel Lyrics\nUh, hit 'em with a little ghetto gospel\n\nThose who wish to follow me (My ghetto gospel)\nI welcome with my hands\nAnd the red sun sinks at last\nInto the hills of gold\nAnd peace to this young warrior\nWithout the sound of guns\n\nIf I could recollect before my hood days\nI'd sit and reminisce, thinkin' of bliss and the good days (Days)\nI stop and stare at the younger\nMy heart goes to 'em, they tested with stress that they under\nAnd nowadays, things change\nEveryone's ashamed of the youth, 'cause the truth look strange\nAnd for me, it's reversed\nWe left 'em a world that's cursed, and it hurts (Hurts)\n\u2018Cause any day, they'll push the button\nAnd all good men like Malcolm X or Bobby Hutton died for nothin'\nDon't it make you get teary? The world looks dreary\nWhen you wipe your eyes, see it clearly\nThere's no need for you to fear me\nIf you take your time to hear me, maybe you can learn to cheer me\nIt ain't about black or white, \u2018cause we human\nI hope we see the light before it's ruined\nMy ghetto gospel\nYou might also like\nThose who wish to follow me (Ghetto gospel)\nI welcome with my hands\nAnd the red sun sinks at last\nInto the hills of gold\nAnd peace to this young warrior\nWithout the sound of guns\n\nTell me, do you see that old lady, ain't it sad?\nLivin' out a bag, but she's glad for the little things she has\nAnd over there, there's a lady\nCrack got her crazy, guess who's givin' birth to a baby?\nI don't trip or let it fade me\nFrom out of the fryin' pan, we jump into another form of slavery\nEven now, I get discouraged\nWonder, if they take it all back, will I still keep the courage?\nI refuse to be a role model\nI set goals, take control, drink out my own bottles (Own bottles)\nI make mistakes, but learn from every one\nAnd when it's said and done, I bet this brother be a better one\nIf I upset you, don't stress\nNever forget that God isn't finished with me yet\nI feel his hand on my brain\nWhen I write rhymes, I go blind and let the Lord do his thing\nBut am I less holy\n'Cause I choose to puff a blunt and drink a beer with my homies?\nBefore we find world peace\nWe gotta find peace and end the war in the streets\nMy ghetto gospel\nThose who wish to follow me (Yeah, ghetto gospel)\nI welcome with my hands\nAnd the red sun sinks at last\nInto the hills of gold\nAnd peace to this young warrior\nWithout the sound of guns\n\nLord, can you hear me speak?\nTo pay the price of bein' hellbound"}
{"text":"Shit, you mothafuckin' right!\nI'm the bitch that's keepin' it live and keepin' it hot\nWhen you punk-ass niggas don't\nNigga, west side! What?! Bring it on!\n\nLook for me, lost in the whirlwind\n'96 Bonnie and Clyde, me and my girlfriend\nDoin' 85 when we ride\nTrapped in this world of sin\nBorn as a ghetto child, raised in this whirlwind (c'mon)\n\nOur childhood years recall the tears, heart laced with venom\nSmokin' sherm, drinkin' malt liquor \u2014 father, forgive 'em\nMe and my girlfriend, hustlin'\nFell in love with the struggle\nHands on the steering wheel, blush while she bail out bustin'\nFuck 'em all, watch 'em fall screamin'\nAutomatic gunfire exorcisin' all demons\nMy mafioso messiah, my congregation high, ready to die\nWe bail out to take the jail back, niggas unite\nOur first date, couldn't wait to see you naked\nTouch you in every secret place\nI could hardly wait to bust freely\nGot you red-hot, you so happy to see me\nMake the front page, prime time, live on TV\nNigga, my girlfriend, baby 45 but she still live\nOne shot make a nigga's heartbeat stop\nYou might also like\nWhat?! I'm bustin' on you punk-ass niggas\nRun, nigga, run! I'm on yo' ass, nigga\nRun, nigga! Duck and hide\nWhen I'm bustin' on all you bitches!\nRun, nigga! Yeah, Westside!\nUh! Uh! Uh! Die, nigga, die!\n\nMy girlfriend blacker than the darkest night\nWhen niggas act bitch-made she got the heart to fight\nNigga, my girlfriend, though we separated at times\nI knew deep inside, baby girl would always be mine\nPicked you up when you was 9\nStarted out my life of crime with you\nBought you some shells when you turned 22\nIt's true, nothin' compares to the satisfaction\nThat I feel when we out mashin'; me and my girlfriend\n\nAll I need in this life of sin\nIs me and my girlfriend\nDown to ride to the bloody end\nJust me and my girlfriend\nAll I need in this life of sin\nIs me and my girlfriend\nDown to ride to the bloody end\nJust me and my girlfriend\nI was too immature to understand your ways\nInexperienced back in the days\nCaused so many arguments and strays\nNow I realize how to treat you, the secret to keep you\nBeing faithful, \u2018cause now cheating's lethal\nWe're closer than the hands of time\nDeeper than the drive of mankind\nI trust you dearly, I shoot blind\nIn time I clock figures, droppin' niggas as we rise\nWe all soldiers in God's eyes\nNow it's time for war, never leave me, baby\nI'm paranoid, sleepin' with you loaded by my bedside, crazy\nJealous when you hang with the fellas, I wait patiently alone\nAnticipated for the moment you come home\nI'm waitin' by the phone, this is true love, I can feel it\nI've had a lot of women in my bed, but you the realest\nSo if you ever need me, call, I'll be there through it all\nYou're the reason I can stand tall: me and my girlfriend\n\nAll I need in this life of sin\nIs me and my girlfriend\nDown to ride to the bloody end\nJust me and my girlfriend\nAll I need in this life of sin\nIs me and my girlfriend\nDown to ride to the bloody end\nJust me and my girlfriend\nI love finger-fuckin' you, all of a sudden I'm hearin' thunder\nWhen you bust a nut, niggas be duckin' or takin' numbers\nLove to watch you at a block party, beggin' for drama\nWhile unleashin' on the old-timers, that's on my mama\nI would trade my life for yours, behind closed doors\nThe only girl that I adore, everything I'm askin' for\nTalkin' to me, beggin' me to just take you around\nSeventeen, like Brandy you just wanna be down\nTalkin' loud when I tell you be quiet\nYou move the crowd, bustin' rounds, activatin' a riot\nThat's why I love you so, no control, down to roll, unleash\nAfter a hit, you break apart, then back to one piece\nMuch love to my one and only girlfriend, the world is ours\nJust hold me down, baby, witness the power\nNever leave a nigga alone, I love you black or chrome\nTurn this house into a happy home: me and my girlfriend\n\nAll I need in this life of sin\nIs me and my girlfriend\nDown to ride to the bloody end\nJust me and my girlfriend\nAll I need in this life of sin\nIs me and my girlfriend\nDown to ride to the bloody end\nJust me and my girlfriend\nAll I need in this life of sin\nMe and my girlfriend\nDown to ride to the bloody end\nMe and my girlfriend\n\nLost in the whirlwind\n'96 Bonnie and Clyde, me and my girlfriend\nDoin' 85 when we ride\nTrapped in this worldwind\nBorn as a ghetto child, raised in this whirlwind\nLook for me, lost in the whirlwind\n'96 Bonnie and Clyde, me and my girlfriend\nDoin' 85 when we ride\nTrapped in this world of sin\nBorn as a ghetto child, raised in this whirlwind\nLook for me, lost in the whirlwind\n'96 Bonnie and Clyde, me and my girlfriend\nDoin' 85 when we ride\nTrapped in this world of sin\nBorn as a ghetto child, raised in this whirlwind\nLook for me, lost in the whirlwind\n'96 Bonnie and Clyde, me and my girlfriend\nLost in the whirlwind\n'96 Bonnie and Clyde, me and my girlfriend\nMe and my girlfriend"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsUnconditional Love Lyrics\n(What y'all want?)\nUnconditional love (no doubt)\nTalkin' about the stuff that don't wear off, it don't fade\nIt'll last for all these crazy days, these crazy nights\nWhether you wrong or you right\nA motherfucker still love you, still feel you\nStill there for you, no matter what (hehe)\nYou will always be in my heart with unconditional love\n\nCome listen to my truest thoughts, my truest feelings\nAll my peers doin' years beyond drug dealing\nHow many caskets can we witness\nBefore we see it's hard to live this life without God?\nSo we must ask forgiveness\nAsk Mama why I got this urge to die\nWitness the tears fallin' free from my eyes before she could reply\nThough we were born without a silver spoon\nMy broken down TV show cartoons in my living room (hey)\nOne day I hope to make it, a player in this game\nMama, don't cry, long as we try maybe things change\nPerhaps it's just a fantasy\nA life where we don\u2019t need no welfare and share with our whole family\nMaybe it's me that caused it, the fightin' and the hurtin'\nIn my room cryin' because I didn't wanna be a burden\nWatch Mama open up her arms to hug me\nAnd I ain't worried 'bout a damn thing, with unconditional love\nYou might also like\nIn this game, the lesson's in your eyes to see\nThough things change, the future's still inside of me\nWe must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark\nSo you will always be in my heart, with unconditional love\nIn this game, the lesson's in your eyes to see\nThough things change, the future's still inside of me\nWe must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark\nSo you will always be in my heart, with unconditional love\n\nJust got the message, you've been callin' all week\nBeen out here hustlin' on these streets\nAin't had a chance to speak\nBut you know, with you and me it's all G\nWe could never be enemies\n'Cause you've been such a good friend to me\nWhere would I be without my dogs?\nNo wonder why when times get hard\n'Cause it ain't easy bein' who we are\nDriven by my ambitions, desire higher positions\nSo I proceed to make G's eternally\nAnd my mission is to be more than just a rap musician\nThe elevation of today's generation, if I could make 'em listen\nPrison ain't what we need, no longer stuck in greed\nTime to plan, strategize, my family's gotta eat\nWe work somethin' out of nothin'\nNo pleasure in the sufferin'\nNeighborhood would be good if they could cut out all the bustin'\nThe liquor and the weed, the cussin'\nSendin' love out to my block\nThe struggle never stops (unconditional love)\nIn this game, the lesson's in your eyes to see\nThough things change, the future's still inside of me\nWe must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark\nSo you will always be in my heart, with unconditional love\nIn this game, the lesson's in your eyes to see\nThough things change, the future's still inside of me\nWe must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark\nSo you will always be in my heart, with unconditional love\n\nI'll probably never understand your ways\nWith everyday I swear I hear you tryin' to change your ways\nWhile gettin' paid at the same time\nJust had a baby with the same eyes\nSomethin' inside, please let me die, these are strange times\nHow come I never made it?\nMaybe it's the way I played it in my heart\nI know one day I gotta be a star\nMy hopes and all my wishes, so many vivid pictures\nAnd all the currency I'll never even get to see\nThis fast life soon shatters, 'cause after all the lights and screams nothin' but my dreams matter\nHopin' for better days, maybe a peaceful night\nBaby, don't cry, 'cause everything gon' be alright\nJust lay your head on my shoulder\nDon't worry 'bout a thing, baby girl, I'm a soldier (huh)\nNever treated me bad, no matter who I was\nYou still came with that unconditional love\nIn this game, the lesson's in your eyes to see\nThough things change, the future's still inside of me\nWe must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark\nSo you will always be in my heart, with unconditional love\nIn this game, the lesson's in your eyes to see\nThough things change, the future's still inside of me\nWe must remember that tomorrow comes after the dark\nSo you will always be in my heart, with unconditional love"}
{"text":"How do you want it?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\nHow do you want it yeah?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\n\nI love the way you activate your hips and push your ass out\nGot a nigga wantin' it so bad, I'm about to pass out\nWanna dig you, and I can't even lie about it\nBaby, just alleviate your clothes, time to fly up out it\nCatch you at a club, oh shit, you got me fiendin'\nBody talkin' shit to me, but I can't comprehend the meanin'\nNow, if you wanna roll with me, then here's your chance\nDoin' eighty on the freeway, police, catch me if you can\nForgive me, I'm a rider, still I'm just a simple man\nAll I want is money, fuck the fame, I'm a simple man\nMr. International, player with the passport\nJust like Aladdin, bitch, get you anything you ask for\nIt's either him or me; Champagne, Hennessy\nA favorite of my homies when we floss on our enemies\nWitness as we creep to a low speed, peep what a ho need\nPuff some mo' weed, funk, ya don't need\nApproachin' hoochies with a passion, been a long day\nBut I've been driven by attraction in a strong way\nYour body is bangin', baby, I love it when you flaunt it\nTime to give it to daddy, nigga, now tell me how you want it\nYou might also like\nHow do you want it?\nHow does it feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\n\nTell me is it cool to fuck?\nDid you think I come to talk? Am I a fool or what?\nPositions on the floor, it's like erotic\nIronic, 'cause I'm somewhat psychotic\nI'm hittin' switches on bitches\nLike I been fixed with hydraulics\nUp and down like a roller coaster\nI'm up inside ya, I ain't quittin' 'til the show is over\n'Cause I'm a rider, in and out just like a robbery\nI'll probably be a freak and let you get on top of me\nGet to rockin' these, nights full of Aliz\u00e9\nA livin' legend you ain't heard about\nThese niggas play these Cali days\nC. Delores Tucker, you's a motherfucker\nInstead of tryin' to help a nigga, you destroy a brother\nWorse than the others; Bill Clinton, Mister Bob Dole\nYou're too old to understand the way the game's told\nYou're lame so I gotta hit you with the hot facts\nOnce I'm released, I'm makin' millions, nigga, top that\nThey wanna censor me; they'd rather see me in a cell\nLivin' in hell, only a few of us'll live to tell\nNow everybody talkin' about us, I could give a fuck\nLike we the first ones to bomb and cuss\nNigga, tell me how you want it\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you  feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you  feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\n\nRaised as a youth, tell the truth\nI got the scoop on how to get a bulletproof\nLickin' shots off from the roof\nBefore I was a teenager, mobile phone, Skypager\nGame rules, I'm livin' major\nMy adversaries is lookin' worried\nThey paranoid of gettin' buried\nOne of us gon' see the cemetery\nMy only hope to survive if I wish to stay alive\nGettin' high, see the demons in my eyes, before I die\nI wanna live my life and ball, make a couple million\nAnd then I'm chillin', fade 'em all\nThese taxes got me crossed up and people tryin' to sue me\nMedia is in my business and they actin' like they know me\nBut I'ma mash out and peel out\nI\u2019m with a clique that\u2019s quick to whip that fuckin' steel out\nYeah nigga, it's some new shit so better get up on it\nWhen you see me, tell a nigga how you want it\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\n\nMe and my Nigga Johnny J...yeah we out\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real\nHow do you want it?\nHow do you feel?\nComin' up as a nigga in the cash game\nLivin' in the fast lane, I'm for real"}
{"text":"\u201cStreet Science, you\u2019re on the air. What do you feel when you hear a record like 2Pac\u2019s new one?\u201d\n\u201cI love 2Pac\u2019s new record.\u201d\n\u201cRight, but don\u2019t you feel like that creates tension between East and West? I mean, he\u2019s talking about killing people, \u2018I had sex with your wife\u2019 \u2014 and not in those words. But he\u2019s talking about, \u2018I wanna see you deceased\u2019\u2026\"\n\nI love L.A\nNo Doubt\nTo live and die in L.A. (California)\nNo matter what you say about Los Angeles\nIt's still the only place for me\nIt never rains in Southern California\n\nTo live and die in L.A\nWhere everyday we try to fatten our pockets\nUs niggas hustle for the cash, so it's hard to knock it\nEverybody got they own thing, currency chasin'\nWorldwide through the hard times, worrying faces\nShed tears as we bury niggas close to heart\nWhat was a friend, now a ghost in the dark\nCold part about it, nigga got smoked by a fiend\nTryin' to floss on him, blind to a broken man's dream\nA hard lesson, court cases keep me guessin'\nPlea bargain ain't an option now, so I'm stressin'\nCost me more to be free than a life in the pen'\nMakin' money off of cuss words, writin' again\nLearn how to think ahead, so I fight with my pen\nLate night down sunset, likin' the sin\nWhat's the worst they can do to a nigga?\nGot me lost in Hell, to live and die in L.A. on bail\nYou might also like\nMy angel sing\nTo live and die in L.A., it's the place to be\nAnd the angels go\nYou've got to be there to know it\nWhen everybody wanna see\nTo live and die in L.A\nTo live and die in L.A., it's the place to be\nYou've got to be there to know it\nWhen everybody wanna see\n\nIt's the city of angels and constant danger\nSouth Central L.A. can't get no stranger\nFull of drama like a soap opera\nOn the curb watchin' the ghetto bird helicopters\nI observe so many niggas gettin' three strikes, tossed in jail\nI swear, the pen' right across from hell\nI can't cry, \u2018cause it's on now\nI'm just a nigga on his own now\nLivin' life thug style, so I can't smile\nWriting to my peoples when they ask for pictures\nThinkin' Cali just fun and bitches\nBetter learn about the dress code, B's and C's\nAll them other niggas copycats, these is G's\nI love Cali like I love women\n\u2018Cause every nigga in L.A. got a little bit of thug in 'em\nWe might fight amongst each other\nBut I promise you this: we'll burn this bitch down, get us pissed\nTo live and die in L.A\nTo live and die in L.A., it's the place to be\nLet my angels sing\nYou've got to be there to know it\nWhen everybody wanna see\nAnd my angels go\nTo live and die in L.A., it's the place to be\nTo live and die in L.A\nYou've got to be there to know it\nWhen everybody wanna see\n\nIt wouldn't be L.A. without Mexicans\nBlack love, Brown Pride in the sets again\nPete Wilson tryin' to see us all broke\nI'm on some bullshit out for everything they owe\nRemember KDAY? Weekends, Crenshaw, MLK?\nAutomatics rang free, niggas lost they way\nGang signs being shown, nigga, love yo' hood\nBut recognize and it's all good\nWhere the weed at? Niggas gettin' shermed out\nSnoop Dogg in this motherfucker permed out\nM.O.B., Big Suge in the Lo-Lo, bounce and turn\nDogg Pound in the Lex with a ounce to burn\nGot them Watts niggas with me, O.F.T.B\nThey got some hash, took the stash, left the rest for me\nNeckbone, Tre, Heron, Buntry too\nBig Rock got knocked, but this one's for you\nI hit the studio and drop a jewel, hopin' it pay\nGettin' high, watchin' time fly; to live and die in L.A\nTo live and die in L.A., it's the place to be\nLet my angel sing\nYou've got to be there to know it\nWhen everybody wanna see\nAnd my angels go\nTo live and die in L.A., it's the place to be\nTo live and die in L.A\nYou've got to be there to know it\nWhen everybody wanna see\nLet my angel sing\n\nThis go out for 92.3 and 106\nAll the radio stations that be bumpin' my shit\nMakin' my shit sells quadruple quintuple platinum\n(To live and die in L.A., mhmmm)\nThis go out to all the magazines that support a nigga\nAll the real motherfuckers\n(To live and die in L.A., mhmmm)\nAll the stores, the mom and pop spots\nA&R people, all y'all motherfuckers\n(To live and die in L.A., mhmmm)\nL.A\nCalifornia Love part motherfuckin' two\nWit out gay ass Dre\n(To live and die in L.A., mhmmm)\n(To live and die in L.A., mhmmm)"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsThe Rose That Grew From Concrete (Autobiographical) LyricsDid you hear about the rose that grew from a crack\nin the concrete\nProving nature's laws wrong it learned 2 walk\nwithout having feet\nFunny it seems, but by keeping its dreams\nit learned 2 breathe fresh air\nLong live the rose that grew from concrete\nwhen no one else even cared!"}
{"text":"Brenda's got a baby\nBrenda's got a baby\n\nI hear Brenda's got a baby, but Brenda's barely got a brain\nA damn shame, the girl can hardly spell her name\n\"That's not our problem, that's up to Brenda's family\"\nWell, let me show you how it affects our whole community\nNow Brenda really never knew her moms\nAnd her dad was a junkie, puttin' death into his arms\nIt's sad, 'cause I bet Brenda doesn't even know\nJust 'cause you're in the ghetto doesn't mean you can't grow\nBut oh, that's a thought, my own revelation\nDo whatever it takes to resist the temptation\nBrenda got herself a boyfriend\nHer boyfriend was her cousin, now let's watch the joy end\nShe tried to hide her pregnancy, from her family\nWho really didn't care to see, or give a damn if she\nWent out and had a church of kids\nAs long as when the check came, they got first dibs\nNow Brenda's belly's gettin' bigger\nBut no one seems to notice any change in her figure\nShe's twelve years old and she's havin' a baby\nIn love with a molester, who's sexin' her crazy\nAnd yet and all she thinks that he'll be with her forever\nAnd dreams of a world where the two of them are together\nWhatever, he left her and she had the baby solo\nShe had it on the bathroom floor and didn't know, so\nShe didn't know what to throw away and what to keep\nShe wrapped the baby up and threw him in a trash heap\nI guess she thought she'd get away, wouldn't hear the cries\nShe didn't realize how much the little baby had her eyes\nNow the baby's in the trash heap, bawlin'\nMama can't help her, but it hurts to hear her callin'\nBrenda wants to run away\nMama say \"You makin' me lose pay\nThere's social workers here every day\"\nNow Brenda's gotta make her own way\nCan't go to her family, they won't let her stay\nNo money, no babysitter, she couldn't keep a job\nShe tried to sell crack but end up gettin' robbed\nSo now, what's next? It ain't nothin' left to sell\nSo she sees sex as a way of leavin' hell\nIt's payin' the rent, so she really can't complain\nProstitute found slain, and Brenda's her name\nShe's got a baby\nYou might also like\nBaby\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a baby?\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a baby?\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a baby?\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a baby?\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a baby?\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a\u2014\nDon't you know she's got a baby?"}
{"text":"To my niggas that went out in line on duty\n21-gun salute! One love, one thug, one nation\n(Let\u2019s get down, let\u2019s do this!)\n21-gun salute! (Come on, yeah, let\u2019s do this!)\n21-gun salute!  (Come on, come on, let\u2019s do this!)\nAll the time I be\u2026\n\nHopin' my true motherfuckers know\nThis be the realest shit I ever wrote\nAgainst all odds, up in the studio gettin' blowed\nTo the truest shit I ever spoke\n\n21-gun salute, dressed in fatigues, black jeans and boots\nI just appeared in the crowd, all you seen was troops\nThis little nigga named Nas think he live like me\nTalkin' 'bout he left the hospital, took five like me\nYou live in fantasies, nigga, I reject your deposit\nWe shook Dre punk ass, now he out of the closet\nMobb Deep wonder why nigga blowed 'em out\nNext time grown folks talkin', nigga close your mouth\nPeep me, I take this war shit deeply\nDone seen too many real players fall to let these bitch niggas beat me\nPuffy, let's be honest, you a (you a sucker ass nigga) punk or you will see me wit gloves\nMember that shit you said to Vibe about me bein' a thug?\nAnd you can tell the people you roll wit whatever you want\nBut you and I know what's goin' on\nPayback, I knew you bitch niggas from way back\nWitnessed me strapped with MAC's, knew I wouldn't play that\nAll you old rappers tryin' to advance\nIt's all over now, take it like a man\nNiggas lookin' like Larry Holmes flabby and sick\n(Look at De La Soul!)\nTryna player hate on my shit, you eat a fat dick\nLet it be known, this is how you made me\nLovin' how I got you niggas crazy\nYou might also like\nAgainst all odds, hopin' my thug motherfuckers know\nThis be the realest shit I ever wrote\nAgainst all odds, up in the studio, gettin' blowed\nTo the truest shit I ever spoke\nAgainst all odds, hopin' my true motherfuckers know\nThis be the realest shit I ever wrote\n\nI heard he was light-skinned, stocky, with a Haitian accent\nJewelry, fast cars and he's known for flashin'\nListen while I take you back and lace this rap\nA real live tale about a snitch named Haitian Jack\nKnew he was workin' for the feds\nSame crime, different trials, nigga, picture what he said and did I mention?\nPromised to payback, Jimmy Henchman, in due time\nI know you bitch niggas is listenin', the world is mine\nSet me up, wet me up, niggas stuck me up\nHeard the guns bust, but you tricks never shut me up\nTouch one of mine, on everything I owe\nI'll destroy everything you touch, play the game, nigga\nAll out warfare, eye for eye\nLast words to a bitch nigga: \"Why you lie?\"\nNow you gotta watch your back, now watch your front\nHere we come, gunshots to Tut, now you stuck\nFuck the rap game, nigga, this M.O.B\nSo believe me, we enemies, I go against all odds\nI'm hopin' my true motherfuckers know\nThis be the realest shit I ever wrote\nAgainst all odds, up in the studio, gettin' blowed\nTo the truest shit I ever spoke\nI'm hopin' my true motherfuckers know\nThis be the realest shit I ever wrote; against all odds\n\nPuffy gettin' bribed like a bitch, to hide that fact\nHe did some shit he shouldn't have did, so we ridin' for that\nAnd that nigga that was down for me, rest the dead\nSwitched sides, guess his new friends wanted him dead\nProbably be murdered for the shit that I said\nI bring the real, be a legend, breathin' or dead\nLord, listen to me, God don't like ugly, it was written\nAyo Nas, your whole damn style is bitten (You sound like Rakim, man)\nYou heard my melody, read about my life in the papers\nAll my run-ins with authorities, felonious capers\nNow you wanna live my life, so what's a \"chazzer,\" Nas?\nNiggas that don't rhyme right, you've seen too many movies\nLoad 'em up against the wall, close his eyes\nSince you lie you die \u2014 goodbye!\nLet the real live niggas hear the truth from me\nWhat would you do if you was me? Nigga\nAgainst all odds\nHopin' my true motherfuckers know\nThis be the realest shit I ever wrote\nAgainst all odds, up in the studio gettin' blowed\nTo the truest shit I ever spoke\nAgainst all odds, hopin' my true motherfuckers know\nThis be the realest shit I ever wrote\nAgainst all odds, up in the studio gettin' blowed\nTo the truest shit I ever spoke; against all odds\n\n21-gun salute, one love to my true thug niggas\n(Outlaw! Outlaw! Outlaw!)\n21-gun salute to my niggas that die in the line of duty\nRepresentin' to the fullest, bein' soldiers with military minds\nThat play the rules of the game, 21-gun salute\nI salute you, my niggas, stay strong\nI ride for you, I rhyme for you, I roll for you, it's all for you\nTo all you bitch-made niggas, I'm comin' for you\nAgainst all odds, I don't care who the fuck you is\nYou touch me, I'm at you\nI know you motherfuckers didn't think I forgot\nHell nah, I ain't forgot, nigga\nI just remember what you told me\nYou said don't go to war unless I got my money right\nI got my money right now, now I want war"}
{"text":"Yeah, clear enough for ya? (alright)\nWhy niggas look mad?\nY'all supposed to be happy I'm free\nY'all niggas look like y'all wanted me to stay in jail\nHo bustas!\n\nPicture me rollin' in my 500 Benz\nI got no love for these niggas, there's no need to be friends\nThey got me under surveillance\nI swear somebody be tellin'\nKnow there's dope bein' sold, but I ain't the one sellin'\nDon't want to be another number\nI gotta puff a gang of weed to keep from goin' under\nThe federales wanna see me dead\nNiggas put prices on my head\nNow I got two Rottweilers by my bed, I feed 'em lead\nNow I'm released, how will I live?\nWill God forgive me for all the dirt a nigga did, to feed kids?\nOne life to live, it's so hard to be positive\nWhen niggas shootin' at your crib\nMama, I'm still thuggin', the world is a war zone\nMy homies is inmates, and most of them dead wrong\nFull grown, finally a man, just schemin' on ways\nTo put some green inside the palms of my empty hands\nJust picture me rollin'\nFlossin' a Benz on rims that isn't stolen\nMy dreams is censored, my hopes are gone\nI'm like a fiend that finally sees when all the dope is gone\nMy nerves is wrecked, heart beatin'\nAnd my hands are swollen\nThinkin' of the G's I'll be holdin'; picture me rollin'\nYou might also like\nPicture me rollin'\nPicture me rollin'\nPicture me, picture me rollin'\nPicture me rollin'\nOoh wee\n\nCan you see me now?\nMove to the side a little bit so you can get a clear picture\nCan you see it?\nPicture me rollin'\nYeah, nigga!\nAye, but peep how my nigga Syke do it to you\nGuess who's back?\n\nI got keys comin' from overseas\nCost a nigga 200 G's\nI'm a street commando, Nino for example\nThis lavish lifestyle is hard to handle\nSo I got to floss 'cause I'm more like a boss player\nThug, branded to be a women-layer\nSo many player haters, imitators steady swangin'\nMake me wanna start back bangin'\nSo I'm caught up in the game, dress code changed\nPackin' 40 Glocks, contain 'em or rearrange\nAll that jealousy and envy comin' from my enemies\nWhile I'm sippin' on R\u00e9my\nIn front of black Lexus, Chevy's on the roam\n'96 big body, sittin' on chrome\nAs we head up out the zone, stone-facin' is on\nYou can admire, but don't look too long\nI'm livin' a dream with triple beams and my pockets bulgin'\nIt's hard to imagine, picture me rollin'\nPicture me rollin'\nPicture, picture me rollin'\nPicture me rollin'\nPicture me rollin'\nPicture me\nI gots to get the fuck up in it, formulate a caper\n'Cause a nigga straight sufferin' from lack of havin' paper\nMy bitch fin' to have a bastard, see?\nSo I needs to hit a lick, drastically\nI see some ballin'-ass niggas, and they slippin' in my spot\nAnd, uh, diggin' the plots (so what?)\nCheckin' in the park, 'Pac\n\nWe caught him sleepin'\nHe didn't peep you niggas creepin'?\nThis how we do it every weekend\nI dump for madness, it's time to count the profit\nCPO, you got the bomb spot\nNigga, time to clock it\nI get the liquor, and you can get the females\nThis crooked shit that we inflictin', gettin' street sales\nMove smooth as a motherfucker, me and my 9\nI'm cool as a motherfucker, I'ma get mine\nNow we satisfied, got the pockets on swoll\nBoss Hogg and this 'Pac nigga, picture us rollin'\n\nPicture me rollin'\nPicture me\nPicture me rollin'\nPicture me rollin'\n\nIs y'all ready for me?\nPicture me rollin' roll call\nYou know there's some muh'fuckers out there\nI just could not forget about\nI wanna make sure they can see me\nNumber one on my list: Clinton Correctional Facilities\nAll you bitch-ass CO's\nCan you niggas see me from there?\nBallin' on y'all punk-ass!\nPicture me rollin', baby!\nYeah, all them niggas up in them cell blocks\nI told y'all niggas when I come home it's on\nThat's right, nigga, picture me rollin'\nOh, I forgot! The DA\nYeah, that bitch had a lot to talk about in court\nCan the ho see me from here?\nCan you see me, ho? Picture me rollin'\nAnd all you punk police, can you see me?\nAm I clear to you?\nPicture me rollin', nigga, legit\nFree like O.J. all day, you can't stop me\nYou know I got my niggas up in this motherfucker\nManute, Pain, Syke, Bogart, Mopreme\nIt's sad, dog, can you picture us rollin'?\nCan you see me, ho?\nIs y'all ready for me? We up out this bitch\nAny time y'all wanna see me again\nRewind this track right here\nClose your eyes and picture me rollin'"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsRatha Be Ya Nigga Lyrics\n'Pac\nHey\nWhat's happening\nNot motherfucking double R, Richie baby\nWhat's happening baby, you know how we do it\nYeah nigga, you know I'm up out this bitch\nIt's time for me to uhhh regulate\nFo' sho', hey\nObserve\nAnd you ain't going back?\nNah nah nah, we got to show these motherfuckers whassup though\nThis is for the honeys, the superstar\nI don't want to be her man, I want to be her nigga\nYou feel me?\nWell let 'em know\n\nYou fucking with niggas that's insecure\nWatered down, my shit is pure\nWrite down my number but don't call me 'til you sure\nI ain't begging just trying to relocate between your legs\nDripping wet, as we experiment in sweaty sex\nWhen you met me you wouldn't let me, and now\nYou straight begging to sex me got you undressing to test me and uhh..\nYou might also like\nShut me down if you want, and miss the chance to do it live\nWhen I stroll by, I see that look in yo' eye\nYou want a nigga, but think that you can't have a nigga\nDon't cheat yourself, instead treat yourself\nIf you scared, go to church, I know it hurts\nTo find out me and your man be sharing skirts\n\nI'm hoping you don't take this the wrong way\nBut your body is banging, got me attracted in a strong way\nAfter a long day of trying to make my songs pay\nMaking love all day against the wall in the hallway\nYour fantasies come alive, your heart rate\nShall increase when we meet up in this dark place\nYou might think you're happy with him\nBut that's a lie, so give this thug a try\nI'd rather be ya nigga\n\nI'd rather be ya N-I-G-G-A (I'd rather be yo' nigga)\nSo we can get drunk and smoke weed all day\nIt don't matter if you lonely baby, you need a thug in your life\nThese busters ain't loving you right\nI'd rather be ya N-I-G-G-A (I'd rather be yo' nigga)\nSo we can get drunk and smoke weed all day\nIt don't matter if you lonely baby, you need a thug in your life\n('Cause) These busters ain't loving you right\nLook, now you was sprung from the introduction\nMy conversation's full of game yet laced with seductions\nI see you blushing like you want something\nCome get a taste of Amerikaz Most Wanted\nAnd let's get into some touching, erotic fuckin'\nMy up and down with no interruptions\nHave no intentions of busting until you learn your lesson\nNow many questions are often asked, a drop top, 500 Benz\nAnd plenty cash, to help a nigga get the ass\n\nYou can ride out with sport coat, to get your lobster and crab\nCause all I got is conversation and a gang of stab\nAnd I'ma listen when it hurts, I'ma hang out but never stay\nSmoke blunts but leave them stunts up to Super Dave\nI'll be your nigga, as long as we can understand\nThat I's the nigga and sport coat can be the man\nHe wine and dine, but me and you we whine and grind\nAnd when I'm on the field keep you on the sidelines\n\nI'd rather be ya N-I-G-G-A (I'd rather be yo' nigga)\nSo we can get drunk and smoke weed all day\nIt don't matter if you lonely baby, you need a thug in your life\nThem busters ain't loving you right\nI'd rather be ya N-I-G-G-A (I'd rather be yo' nigga)\nSo we can get drunk and smoke weed all day\nIt don't matter if you lonely baby, you need a thug in your life\nThem busters ain't loving you right\nNow it's time for the moment of truth, I got you naked\nTotally sweating, let's see how hot I can make it\nTongue kissing 'til yo' head swang\nI'm so into you, witness a nigga make the bed bang\nIf it's all mine, then let me know\nNow scream my name out; do you want it fast or shall I hit it slow?\nNot to mention, the multiple positions I inflict\nA boss player, freaky motherfucker, can I dig?\n\nIt's on and popping, now you see what I was seeing\nWhy your eyes rolling? Loosen up, girl, I ain't going\nNowhere, let's let that sucker stay out there\nWhile he's stressed out and knock I stretch out the cock\nHold the boots, and let a nigga execute\nAnd though you got it right, I'm going home tonight\nYou say you don't need a man, but I don't care\nYou're in the presence of a player, I'd rather be ya nigga\n\nI'd rather be ya N-I-G-G-A (I'd rather be yo' nigga)\nSo we can get drunk and smoke weed all day\nIt don't matter if you lonely baby, you need a thug in your life\nThese busters ain't loving you right\nSo I'd rather be ya N-I-G-G-A (I'd rather be yo' nigga)\nSo we can get drunk and smoke weed all day\nIt don't matter if you lonely baby, you need a thug in your life\nThese busters ain't loving you right\nI'd rather be ya N-I-G-G-A (I'd rather be yo' nigga)\nSo we can get drunk and smoke weed all day\nIt don't matter if you lonely baby, you need a thug in your life\nThese busters ain't loving you right\nI'd rather be ya N-I-G-G-A (I'd rather be yo' nigga)\n(I'd rather be yo' nigga)"}
{"text":"Shit, tired of gettin' shot at\nTired of gettin' chased by the police and arrested\nNiggas need a spot where we can kick it\nA spot where we belong, that's just for us\nNiggas ain't gotta get all dressed up and be Hollywood\nY'knahmean? Where do niggas go when we die?\nAin't no heaven for a thug nigga\nThat's why we go to thug mansion\nThat's the only place where thugs get in free\nAnd you gotta be a G, at thug mansion\n\nA place to spend my quiet nights, time to unwind\nSo much pressure in this life of mine, I cry at times\nI once contemplated suicide, and woulda tried\nBut when I held that 9, all I could see was my mama's eyes\nNo one knows my struggle, they only see the trouble\nNot knowin' it's hard to carry on when no one loves you\nPicture me inside the misery of poverty\nNo man alive has ever witnessed struggles I survived\nPrayin' hard for better days, promise to hold on\nMe and my dawgs ain't have a choice but to roll on\nWe found a finally spot to kick it\nWhere we can drink liquor and no one bickers over trick shit\nA spot where we can smoke in peace, and even though we G's\nWe still visualize places that we can roll in peace\nAnd in my mind's eye, I see this place the players go and pass it\nI got a spot for us all, so we can ball, at thug's mansion\nYou might also like\nAin't no place I'd rather be\nChillin' with homies and family\nSky high, iced out, paradise in the sky\nAin't no place I'd rather be\nOnly place that's right for me\nChromed-out, mansion in paradise, in the sky\n\nWill I survive all the fights and the darkness?\nTrouble sparks, they tell me: \"Home is where the heart is.\"\nDear departed, I shed tattooed tears\nAnd couldn't sleep good for multiple years\nWitness peers catch gunshots; nobody cares\nSeen the politicians ban us, they'd rather see us locked in chains\nPlease explain why they can't stand us\nIs there a way for me to change?\nOr am I just a victim of things I did to maintain?\nI need a place to rest my head\nWith the little bit of homeboys that remains\n\u2018Cause all the rest dead; is there a spot for us to grow?\nIf you find it, I'll be right behind ya, show me and I'll go\nHow can I be peaceful? I'm comin' from the bottom\nWatch my daddy scream \"Peace!\" while the other man shot him\nI need a house that's full of love, when I need to escape\nThe deadly places slingin' drugs, in thug's mansion\nAin't no place I'd rather be\nChillin' with homies and family\nSky high, iced out, paradise in the sky\nAin't no place I'd rather be\nOnly place that's right for me\nChromed-out, mansion in paradise, in the sky\n\nDear Mama, don't cry, your baby boy's doin' good\nTell the homies I'm in Heaven and they ain't got hoods\nSeen a show with Marvin Gaye last night, it had me shook\nDrinkin' peppermint Schnapps, with Jackie Wilson and Sam Cooke\nThen some lady named Billie Holiday sang\nSittin' there kickin' it with Malcolm 'til the day came\nLittle Latasha sho' grown\nTell the lady in the liquor store that she's forgiven, so come home\nMaybe in time you'll understand\nOnly God can save us, when Miles Davis cuttin' lose with the band\nJust think of all the people that you knew in the past\nThat passed on, they in Heaven, found peace at last\nPicture a place that they exist, together\nThere has to be a place better than this, in Heaven\nSo right before I sleep, dear God, what I'm askin'\nRemember this face, save me a place in thug's mansion\nAin't no place I'd rather be\nChillin' with homies and family\nSky high, iced out, paradise in the sky (In thugs mansion)\nAin't no place I'd rather be\nOnly place that's right for me\nChromed-out, mansion in paradise, in the sky (Thugs mansion)\nAin't no place I'd rather be\nChillin' with homies and family\nSky high, iced out, paradise, in the sky (In thugs mansion)\nAin't no place I'd rather be\nOnly place that's right for me\nChromed-out, mansion in paradise, in the sky"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easUntil the End of Time Lyrics\n\nPerhaps I was addicted to the dark side\nSomewhere inside my childhood witnessed my heart die\nAnd even though we both came from the same places\nThe money and the fame made us all change places\nHow could it be? Through the misery that came to pass\nThe hard times make a true friend afraid to ask\nFor currency, but you could run to me when you need\nAnd I'll never leave, honestly\nSomeone to believe in, as you can see\nIt's a small thing to a true, what could I do?\nReal homies help you get through\nAnd come to knew he'd do the same thing if he could\n\u2018Cause in the hood, true homies make you feel good\nAnd half the times we be actin' up, call the cops\nBringin' a cease to the peace that was on my block\nIt never stops, when my mama ask me will I change\nI tell her yeah, but it's clear I'll always be the same\nUntil the end of time\n\nSo take these broken wings\nI need your hands to come and heal me once again\n(Until the end of time)\nSo I can fly away, until the end of time\nUntil the end of time, until the end of time\nYou might also like\nPlease, Lord, forgive me for my life of sin\nMy hard stare seem to scare all my sister's kids\nSo you know, I don't hang around the house much\nThis all-night money makin' got me outta touch\nShit, ain't flashed a smile in a long while\nAn unexpected birth worst of the ghetto childs\nMy attitude got me walkin' solo\nRide out alone in my lo-lo\nWatchin' the whole world move in slow-mo\nFor quiet times, disappear, listen to the ocean\nSmokin' Ports, think my thoughts, then it's back to coastin'\nWho can I trust in this cold world?\nMy phony homie had a baby by my old girl\nBut I ain't trippin', I'm a player, I ain't sweatin' him\nI sexed his sister, had her mumble like a Mexican\nHis next of kin, no remorse, it was meant to happen\nBesides rappin', the only thing I did good was scrappin'\nUntil the end of time\n\nSo take these broken wings\nI need your hands to come and heal me once again\n(Until the end of time)\nSo I can fly away, until the end of time\nUntil the end of time, until the end of time\nNow who's to say if I was right or wrong\nTo live my life as an outlaw all along?\nRemain strong in this planet full of player haters\nThey conversate, but Death Row full of demonstrators\nAnd in the end, drinkin' Hennessy\nMade all my enemies envy me\nSo cold when I flow, eliminatin' easily\nFalls to they knees, they plead for they right to breathe\nWhile beggin' me to keep the peace (haha)\nWhen I conceive closer to achieve\nIn times of danger, don't freeze, time to be a G\nFollow my lead, I'll supply everything you need\nAn ounce of game and the training to make a G\nRemember me as an outcast Outlaw\nAnother album out, that's what I'm about: more\nGettin' raw 'til the day I see my casket\nBuried as a G while the whole world remembers me\nUntil the end of time\n\nSo take these broken wings\nI need your hands to come and heal me once again\n(Until the end of time)\nSo I can fly away, until the end of time\nUntil the end of time, until the end of time"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsStarin\u2019 Through My Rear View Lyrics\nStarin' at the world through my rearview\nJust lookin' back at the world\nFrom another level, you know what I mean? Starin'\n\nMultiple gunshots clear the block, the fun stops\nSnitches is callin' cops, people shot, nobody stops\nI wonder when the world stopped carin'\nLast night two kids shot while the whole block starin'\nI will never understand this society\nFirst they try to murder me, then they lie to me\nProduct of a dyin' breed; all my homies tryin' weed\nNow the little babies crazed, raised off Hennessy\nTell me, will my enemies flee when they see me?\nBelieve me, even thugs gotta learn to take it easy\nListen, through intermissions, search your heart for a plan\nAnd we turnin' bad boys to grown men, it's on again\nI give a holla to my niggas in the darkest corners\nRoll a perfect blunt, and let me spark it for ya\nOne love from a thug nigga\nRollin' with a posse full of paranoid drug dealers\nTo the end, my friend, I'm seein' nothin' but my dreams comin' true\nWhile I'm starin' at the world through my rearview\nSee, I'm seein' nothin' but my dreams comin' true\nWhile I'm starin' at the world through my rearview\nYou might also like\nThey got me starin' at the world through my rearview\nGo on, baby, scream to God, he can't hear you\nI can feel your heart beatin' fast 'cause it's time to die\nGettin' high, watchin' time fly\nAnd all my motherfuckers\nStarin' at the world through my rearview\nGo on, baby, scream to God, he can't hear you\nI can feel your heart beatin' fast 'cause it's time to die\nGettin' high, watchin' time fly\nAnd all my motherfuckers\n\nNow you see him, now you don't\nSome niggas be here for the moment, and then they gone\nWhat happened to 'em?\nWell, let's see, it seems to be a mystery\nBut all I know I never let the money get to me\nStay down like the truest\nThug Life until I check out this bitch, I thought you knew this\nWho is gonna catch me when I fall or even care to?\nWhile you thinkin' I see you lost up in my rearview\nHear you is down with them Outlawz\nOutcast, left far, I'm through like southpaws\nBut still we keep mashin' until our dreams come through\nStarin' at the world through my rearview\nNow, I was raised as a young black male\nIn order to get paid, forced to make crack sales\nCaught a nigga so they send me to these overpacked jails\nIn the cell, countin' days in this livin' black hell\nDo you feel me? Keys to ignition, use at your discretion\nRoll with a 12 gauge pump for protection\nNiggas hate me in the section, from years of chin-checkin'\nTurn to Smith & Wesson war weapons\nHeavenly Father, I'm a soldier\nI'm gettin' hotter 'cause the world's gettin' colder\nBaby, let me hold ya: talk to my guns like they fly bitches\nAll you bustas best to run, look at my bitches!\n\nNow I know the answers to the question\n\u201cDo dreams come true?\u201d\nStill starin' at the world through my rearview\nI said, now I know the answer\n\u201cDo dreams come true?\u201d\nStarin' at the world through my rearview\n\nThey got me starin' at the world through my rearview\nGo on, baby, scream to God, he can't hear you\nI can feel your heart beatin' fast 'cause it's time to die\nGettin' high, watchin' time fly\nAnd all my motherfuckers\nStarin' at the world through my rearview\nGo on, baby, scream to God, he can't hear you\nI can feel your heart beatin' fast 'cause it's time to die\nGettin' high, watchin' time fly\nNigga, Kadafi say!\n\nBack in the days we hustled for sneakers and beepers\nNine-six for Glocks\n'Cause fiends hittin' up blocks with street sweepers\nBless myself when knowin' rules to these streets\nSomethin' I learned in school\nOn some Million Man March shit for the peace\nTrue that, only one life to lead, a fast life of greed\nCriminally addicted, infested since a seed\nWe all die, breed, bleed like humans\nTowns run by young guns, Outlawz and truants\nShit's deep, turn eighteen, burn my will when I go\nBurnt my body with my shotty, or choosin' my dough\nSo while you reminiscin' all nights out with the crew\nSmoke a blunt for me too, I'm starin' through your rearview\n\nHahahaha, you ain't knowin' what we mean by starin' through the rearview\nSo, since you ain't knowin' what we mean, let me break it better understandin' the world\u2026The world is behind us\nOnce a motherfucker get an understandin' on the game, and what the levels and the rules of the game is\nThen the world ain't no trick no more, the world is a game to be played\nSo, now we lookin' at the world from, high watch, behind us\nNiggas know what we gotta do: just gotta put our mind to it and do it, it's all about the papers, money rule the world\nBitches make the world go round\nReal niggas do what they wanna do, bitch niggas do what they can\nThey got me starin' at the world through my rearview\nGo on, baby, scream to God, he can't hear you\nI can feel your heart beatin' fast 'cause it's time to die\nGettin' high, watchin' time fly\nAnd all my motherfuckers\nStarin' at the world through my rearview\nGo on, baby, scream to God, he can't hear you\nI can feel your heart beatin' fast 'cause it's time to die\nGettin' high, watchin' time fly"}
{"text":"In today's music news: the ever-controversial 2Pac Shakur has just released another album under the alias \"Makaveli.\" Music insiders are running wild trying to rearrange other artists' street dates in fear of a wipeout in retail inter-chart movement. Although no one knows the exact cause of the new album, resources tell me a number of less fortunate rappers have joined together in conspiracy to assassinate the character of not only Mr Shakur but of Death Row Records as well. Nas, the alleged ring leader, is furious at 2Pac's \u2013 excuse me \u2013 Makaveli's verbal assault on Mobb Sleep, Notorious P.I.G., and several other New York rappers. JAY-Z from \"Hawaiian Sophie\" fame, Big Little whatever, and several other corny-sounding motherfuckers are understandably shaken up by this release. The question everybody wants to know is: why'd they get this nigga started? 2Pac \u2013 rather Makaveli \u2013 was not available for comment but released this statement:\n\nIt's not about East or West\nIt's about niggas and bitches\nPower and money, ridaz and punks\nWhich side are you on?\n*Heartbeat* *Gunshots*\n*Encroaching footsteps*\nThese niggas is still fuckin' talkin'?\nYou niggas still breathin'? Fuckin' roaches\nA'ight, it's the Raid on cockroaches\nPunk motherfuckers, this is it (Makaveli The Don)\nKilluminati Style (All day) (Up in your ass)\n(Bomb first) (Outlaw Ridahz) Solo shit, bring it!\n\nAllow me to introduce first: Makaveli the Don\nHysterical, spiritual lyrics like The Holy Qur'an\nNiggas get shook like 5-0\nMy .45 is next to me when we ride, for survival\nMoney-makin' plans, pistol close at hand, swollen pockets\nLet me introduce the topic, then we drop it\nExpose snakes \u2018cause they breed freely\nSee me rise, located worldwide like the art of graffiti\nI think I'm tougher than Nitti, my attitude is shitty\nBorn on a dope fiend's titty, (huh) in every city\nYou'll find me, look for trouble right behind me\nMy Outlaw niggas down to die for me, nah'mean?\nI hit the scene, niggas duckin' from my guillotine stare\nI'm right there, my every word a fuckin' nightmare\nGet me high, let me see the sun rise and fall\nThis for my dogs, down to die for y'all\nExtreme venom, no mercy when we all up in \u2019em\nCut \u2019em down, to Hell is where we send \u2019em\nMy whole team trained to explode, ride or die\nMurder motherfuckers lyrically and I'm not gon' cry\nMe, a born leader, never leave the block without my heater\nTwo big pits, I call them \"my bitch-nigga eaters\"\nAnd not a whimper until I'm gone\nThug Life runnin' through my veins so I'm strong\nBye, bye, bye, let's get high and ride\nOh, how do we do these niggas, but I'm not gon' cry\nI'm a Bad Boy killer, JAY-Z die too\nLookin' out for Mobb Deep, nigga, when I find you\nWeak motherfuckers don't deserve to breathe\nHow many niggas down to die for me? Yay-yay!\nWest Coast rider, comin' right behind ya\nShould have never fucked with me\nI want money, hoes, sex and weed\nI won't rest until my road dog's free \u2013 bomb first\nYou might also like\nWe bomb first when we ride\nPlease reconsider 'fore you die\nWe ain't even come to hurt nobody tonight\nBut it's my life or your life, and I'ma bomb first\nWe bomb first when we ride\nPlease reconsider 'fore you die\nWe ain't even come to fight tonight\nBut it's my life or your life, and I'ma bomb first\n\nFor so many days, in so many ways we've been duckin' strays\nThey delivers, but still we some Bad Boy killers\nGot nuttin' to lose, I gots nowhere to go\nI only got one home, see me stranded on Death Row\nWith Outlawz, it's Makaveli be the general\nAnd I be a soldier on a mission, sent to do what you'll never do\nAnd that's ride for the cause, yes, I'll die for the cause\nYou best believe, if I'ma leave this bitch, yo I'm dyin' with yours\nKamikaze, sicker than a ma'fuckin' Nazi\nGot a little question for that nigga that made \"Paparazzi\"\nIf you ain't in this rap game for the motherfuckin' cash, mane\nThen what is your motherfuckin' purpose? None can serve us\nE.D.I. Mean, born worthless\nThat's until the day, I decided to bomb first, bitch!\nBiatch! Come on, bring it, down with it!\nThen we ride\nCome on, bring it\nBomb first when we ride\nHey, get that nigga!\n\nYour style wack as ever, like you was rockin' patent leather\nCausin' massive terror, y'all niggas lack, you ain't thorough\nHalf rapper, half drug kingpin, you're tellin' fairy tales, dunn\n\"King of New York\" like you the motherfuckin' one?\nBut I'm from Jers', we don't play that shit\nFrom the Clair down to Newark Bricks all my niggas flippin\u2019 chips\nGettin\u2019 rich, even though it's hard\nTryna creep through these halls and brawls without scarred by a revolve'\nWith no warning signs, \u2018cause yo, my man took five\nNow I'm the youngin with the 9 ready to put in my time\n\nShoot first, look at their head, burst bleeding\nDon't want to hear no shit this evening, believe me\nWe bomb first when we ride\nPlease reconsider 'fore you die\nG's and thug niggas on the rise\nPlan, plot, strategize, but bomb first\nWe bomb first when we ride\nPlease reconsider 'fore you die\nG's and thug niggas on the rise\nPlan, plot, strategize, and bomb first\nLet us pray, my nigga\n'Cause we definitely have sinned"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsWonda Why They Call U Bitch Lyrics\n\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\n\nLook here, Miss Thang, hate to salt your game\nBut you's a money-hungry woman and you need to change\nIn the locker room, all the homies do is laugh\nHigh fives \u2018cause another nigga played your ass\nIt was said you were sleezy, even easy\nSleepin' around for what you need, see\nIt's your thing, and you can shake it how you wanna\nGive it up free or make your money on the corner\nBut don't be bad, play the game, get mad and change\nThen you wonder why these motherfuckers call you names\nStill lookin' for a way out, and that's okay\nI can see you wanna stray, there's a way out\nKeep your mind on your money, enroll in school\nAnd as the years pass by, you can show them fools\nBut you ain't tryin' to hear me \u2018cause you're stuck\nYou're headin' for the bathroom, 'bout to get tossed up\nStill lookin' for a rich man, you dug a ditch\nGot your legs up tryin' to get rich\nI love you like a sister, but you need to switch\nAnd that's why they called you bitch\u2014I betcha!\nYou might also like\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nI betcha\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nI betcha, bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nI betcha\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\n\nYou leave your kids with your mama\n\u2018Cause your headin' for the club\nIn a skin-tight miniskirt, lookin' for some love\nGot them legs wide open while you're sittin' at the bar\nTalkin' to some nigga 'bout his car\nI guess he said he had a Lexus, what's next?\nYou headin' to his car for some sex?\nI pass by, can't hold back tears inside\n\u2018Cause Lord knows, for years I tried\nAnd all the other people on my block hate your guts\nThen you wonder why they stare and call you slut\nIt's like your mind don't understand\nYou don't have to kill your dreams plottin' schemes on a man\nKeep your head up, legs closed, eyes open\nEither a nigga wear a rubber or he die smokin'\nI'm hearin' rumors, so you need to switch\nAnd niggas wouldn't call you bitch\u2014I betcha!\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nI betcha\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nI betcha, bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nI betcha\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\nYou wonda why they call you bitch\n\nI guess times gettin' hard, even harder for you\n\u2018Cause hey now, got a baby on the way now\nMore money from the county, and thanks to the welfare\nYou're about to get your hair done\nGot a dinner date, can't be late\nTrick or treat, sweet thang got another trick to meet\nThe way he did it it was smooth\nPlottin' while he gamin' you so, baby, peep the rules\nI should've seen it in the first case, the worst case\nI should've never called you back in the first place\nI remember back in high school, baby, you was fast\nStraight sex when you moved your ass\nBut now things change, \u2018cause you don't look the same\nLet the ghetto get the best of you, baby, that's a shame\nCaught HIV and now you 'bout to be deceased\nAnd finally be at peace\nSo where your niggas at now? \u2018Cause everybody left\nThey stepped, and left you on your own\nSee, I loved you like a sister, but you died too quick\nAnd that's why we called you bitch\u2014I betcha!\nYou wonda why we call you bitch\nYou wonda why we call you bitch\nI betcha, bitch\nYou wonda why we call you bitch\nYou wonda why we call you bitch\nI betcha, bitch\nYou wonda why we call you bitch\nYou wonda why we call you bitch\nI betcha, bitch\nYou wonda why we call you bitch\nYou wonda why we call you bitch\n\nDear Ms. Delores Tucker, keep stressin' me\nFuckin' with a motherfuckin' mind\nI figured you wanted to know\nYou know, why we call them hoes bitches\nAnd maybe this might help you understand\nIt ain't personal, strictly business, baby, strictly business\nSo If you wonder why we call you bitch\nYou wonder why we call you bitch\nIf you wonder why we call you bitch\nYou wonder why we call you bitch"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsLetter 2 My Unborn Lyrics\nTo my unborn child\u2026\nTo my unborn child\nIn case I don\u2019t make it\nJust remember, Daddy loves you\n\nNow ever since my birth, I've been cursed, since I'm born to wile\nIn case I never get to holla at my unborn child\nMany things learned in prison, blessed and still livin'\nTryna earn every penny that I'm gettin'\nI'm reminiscin' to the beginnin' of my mission\nWhen I was conceived and came to be in this position\nMy mama was a Panther, loud single parent, but she proud\nWhen she witnessed baby boy rip a crowd\nWent to school, but I dropped out and left the house\n\u2018Cause my mama say I'm good for nothin', so I'm out\nSince I only got one life to live, God forgive me for my sins\nLet me make it and I'll never steal again or deal again\nMy only friend is my misery\nWantin' revenge for the agony they did to me\nSee, my life ain't promised, but it's sure gettin' better\nHope you understand my love letter, to my unborn child\n\nI'm writing you a letter\nThis is to my unborn child\nWanna let you know I love you\nIf you didn't know I feel this way\n\u2018Cause I think about you every day\nI have so much to say\nYou might also like\nSeems so complicated to escape fate\nAnd you can never understand 'til we trade places\nTell the world I feel guilty for bein' anxious\nAin't no way in hell that I could ever be a rapist\nIt's hard to face this cold world on a good day\nWhen will they let the little kids in the hood play?\nI got shot five times, but I'm still breathin'\nLiving proof there's a God if you need a reason\nCan I believe in my own fate?\nWill I raise my kids in the right or the wrong way?\nDear Mama, I'm a man now\nI wanna make it on my own, not a handout\nMake way for a whirlwind prophesized\nI wanna go in peace when I gotta die\nOn these cold streets, ain't no love, no mercy and no friends\nIn case you never see my face again, to my unborn child\n\nI'm writing you a letter\nThis is to my unborn child\nWanna let you know I love you\nIf you didn't know I feel this way\n\u2018Cause I think about you every day\nI have so much to say\nDear Lord, can you hear me?\nTell me what to say\nTo my unborn seed in case I pass away\nWill my child get to feel love?\nOr are we all just cursed to be street thugs?\n\u2018Cause bein' black hurts, and even worse if you speak first\nLivin' my life as an Outlaw \u2013 what could be worse?\n\u2018Cause maybe if I tried to change\nWho'm I kiddin'? I'm a thug 'til I die; I'm a rider, mane\nTouch bases, eat lunch in plush places\nRegular criminal oasis awaits us\nIf there's a ghetto for true thugs, I'll see you there\nAnd I'm sorry for not bein' there\nJust know your daddy was a soldier: Me Against the World\nBless the boys and all my little girls\nTo the Lord: I'm eternal, restin' in peace\nPlease take care of all my seeds, to my unborn child\n\nPlease take care of all my kids and my unborn child\nTo my unborn child\u2026\nThis letter goes out to my seeds\nThat I might not get to see \u2018cause of this lifestyle\nJust know your daddy loved you\nGot nothin' but love for you\nAnd all I wanted was for you to have a better life than I had\n\u2018Cause I was out there on a 24 hour 365 grind\nWhen you get to be my age, you\u2019ll understand\nJust know I got love for you\nAnd I\u2019ll see you if there\u2019s a ghetto in Heaven\nIf there\u2019s a Ghetto Heaven, I\u2019ll be there waitin' for you\nHeh heh, take care, run wild, but be smart\nFollow the rules of the game\nI know sometimes there\u2019s confusion\nRules of the game is gonna get you through it all day every day\nWatch out for these snakes and fakes\nFriends come a dime-a-dozen\nBe an individual, work hard\nStudy, get your mind sharp, trust nobody"}
{"text":"A coward dies a thousand deaths\nA soldier dies but once\nTonight's the night I get in some shit\nThey say pussy and paper is poetry, power and pistols\nPlotting on murdering motherfuckers 'fore they get you\nPicturing pitiful punk niggas copping pleas\nPuffing weed as I position myself to clock G's\nMy enemies scatter in suicidal situations\nNever to witness the wicked shit that they was facin'\nPockets is packed with presidents, pursue your riches\nEvading the playa hating tricks while hitting switches\nBitches is bad-mouth, \u2018cause brawling motherfuckers is bold\nBut charge them hoes; the game should be sold\nI'm sick of psychotic society, somebody save me\nAddicted to drama, so even Mama couldn't raise me\nEven the preacher and all my teachers couldn't reach me\nI run in the streets and puffing weed with my peeps\nI'm duckin' the cops, I hit the weed as I'm clutchin' my Glock\nNiggas is hot when I hit the block; what if I die tonight?\n\nIf I die tonight\nIf I die tonight\nFuck it, if I die tonight\nTonight's the night I get in some shit\nYou might also like\nPolish your pistols, prepare for battle, pass the pump\nWhen I get to poppin', niggas is droppin' then they done\nCalling the coroner, come collect the fucking corpse\nHe got hit by a killer, preoccupied with being boss\nRevenge is the method, whenever steppin', keep a weapon close\nAdversaries are overdosed over deadly notes\nJealous niggas and broke bitches equal packed jails\nHit the block and fill your pockets, making crack sales\nPicture perfection, pursuing paper with a passion\nVisions of prisons for all the pussies that I blasted\nRunning with criminals individuals with no remorse\nTry to stop me, my pistol posse's using deadly force\nIn my brain all I can think about is fame\nThe police know my name, a different game, ain't a thing changed\nI'm seeing cemetery photos of my peers\nConversating like they still here; if I die tonight\n\nIf I die tonight\nScare to die nigga, is ya, ha?\nIf I die tonight\nNever fear, never worry\nIf I die tonight\nTonight's the night I get in some shit\nPussy and paper is poetry, power and pistols\nPlotting on murdering motherfuckers 'fore they get you\nPray to the Heaven's, .357's to the sky\nAnd I hope I'm forgiven for thug livin' when I die\nI wonder if Heaven got a ghetto for thug niggas\nA stress free life and a spot for drug dealers\nPissing while practicing how to pimp and be a playa\nOverdose of a dick while drinking liquor when I lay her\nPistol whippin' these simps for being petrified and lame\nDisrespecting the game, praying for punishment and pain\nGoing insane, never die, I live eternal, who shall I fear?\nDon't shed a tear for me, nigga, I ain't happy here\nI hope they bury me and send me to my rest\nHeadlines reading 'Murdered to death', my last breath\nTake a look, picture a crook on his last stand\nMotherfuckers don't understand; if I die tonight\n\nNigga, if I die tonight\nNo fear nigga, never worry\nIf I die tonight\nBury me a motherfucking G, closed casket fuck it\nIf I die tonight\nYou know\nTonight's the night I get in some shit\nKill, kill, kill, murder, murder, murder\nKill, kill, kill, murder, murder, murder\nKill, kill, kill, murder, murder, murder\nTonight's the night I get in some shit\nKill, kill, kill, murder, murder, murder\nKill, kill, kill, murder, murder, murder"}
{"text":"God has a plan, and the bible unfolds that wonderful plan\nThrough the message of prophecy\nGod sent Jesus into this world to be our savior\nAnd that Christ is returning, someday soon\nTo unfold the wonderful plan of eternity\nFor my life and your life\nAs long as we're cooperating with God\nBy accepting Jesus Christ as our personal Lord and savior\nUnless the Lord does return in the coming seven days\nWe'll see you next time here on This Week in Bible Prophecy\n\n2Pac, don't start that blasphemy in here!\nMakaveli, the new breed\nAnd I remember what my pops told me\nThe new word, follow me\nRemember what my pops told me\n\nMy family tree consists of drug dealers, thugs and killers\nStrugglin', known to hustle, screamin', \"fuck they feelings!\"\nI got advice from my father, all he told me was this:\n\"Nigga, get off your ass if you plan to be rich!\nThere's ten rules to the game, but I'll share with you two\nKnow niggas gon' hate you for whatever you do\nNow, rule one: get your cash on, M.O.B.\nThat's Money Over Bitches, 'cause they breed envy\nNow, rule two is a hard one: watch for phonies\nKeep your enemies close, nigga, watch your homies\"\nIt seemed a little unimportant, when he told me, I smiled\nPicture jewels bein' handed to an innocent child\nI never knew, in my lifetime, I'd live by these rules\nInitiated as an outlaw, studyin' rules\nNow, papa ain't around, so I gotta recall\nOr come to grips with bein' written on my enemy's walls\nPromised if I have a seed, I'ma guide him right\nDear Lord, don't let me die tonight\nI got words for my comrades, listen and learn\nAin't nothin' free, get back what you earned\nNo doubt, gettin' higher than a motherfucka, bless me, please\nThis Thug Life'll be the death of me\nC'mon, yeah\nYou might also like\nAnd I remember what my poppa told me\nRemember what my pops told me\nBlasphemy!\n\nNuf for dem dat steal in the name of da Lord\nDem a tell nuff lie, but holdin' my bird in a cloud\n(Remember what my pops told me)\nUsing the name of the lord in vain\n(blas-blas-blasphemy, blasphemy)\n(Remember what my pops told me)\nWhile de people in de ghetto feel nuff pain\nWe pro'ly in Hell, already, our dumb asses not knowin'\nEverybody kissin' ass to go to Heaven ain't goin'\nPut my soul on it, I'm fightin' devil niggas daily\nPlus the media be crucifyin' brothers severely\nTell me I ain't God's son; nigga, momma a virgin\nWe got evicted, had to leave the 'burbs\nBack in the ghetto, doin' wild shit\nLookin' at the sun don't pay\nCriminal mind all the time, wait for Judgment Day\nThey say Moses split the Red Sea\nI split the blunt and rolled a fat one up, deadly\nBabylon beware, comin' for the Pharoah's kids\nRetaliation, makin' legends off the shit we did\nStill bullshittin', niggas in Jerusalem waitin' for signs\nGod comin', she's just takin' her time (Haha!)\nLivin' by the Nile, while the water flow\nI\u2019m contemplatin' plots, wonderin' where the thought\u2019ll go\nBrothas gettin' shot, comin' back resurrected\nIt's just that raw shit, nigga, check it (That raw shit)\nAnd I remember what my poppa told me\nRemember what my poppa told me\nBlasphemy!\n\nNuff a dem a steal in the name of the lord\nDem a tell nuff lie, but holding a bird in a cloud\n(Remember what my pops told me)\nUsing the name of the lord in vain\n(Remember what my pops told me)\nWhile de people in de ghetto feel nuff pain\n(What!)\n\nThe preacher want me buried, why? 'Cause I know he a liar\nHave you ever seen a crackhead? That's eternal fire\nWhy you got these kids' minds thinkin' that they evil?\nWhile the preacher bein' freaky, you say, \"honor God's people\"\nShould we cry when the Pope die? My request:\nWe should cry if they cried when we buried Malcolm X\nMama, tell me: am I wrong? Is God just another cop\nWaitin' to beat my ass if I don't go pop?\nMemories of a past time, givin' up cash to the leaders\nKnowin' damn well they ain't gonna feed us\nIn my brain, how can you explain time in B.C.?\nIt's hard enough to live, now, in these times of greed\nThey say Jesus is a kind man\nWell, he should understand times in this crime land\nMy thug nation, do what you gotta do\nBut know you gotta change\nTry to find a way to make it out the game\nI leave this and hope God can see my heart is pure\nIs Heaven just another door? I leave this here\nI leave this and hope God see my heart is pure\nIs Heaven just another door? And my people say\nNuff a dem a steal in the name of the lord\nDem a tell nuff lie, but holding a bird in a cloud\n(Remember what my pops told me)\nUsing the name of the lord in vain\n(Can't I remember what my poppa told me, blasphemy)\nWhile de people in de ghetto feel nuff pain\nOur Father, who art in Heaven\nHallowed be Thy name\nThy kingdom come, Thy will be done\nIn Earth as it is in Heaven\nGive us this day, our daily bread\nAs we give up our debts\nAs we forgive our debt-ors\nLead us not into temptation\nBut deliver us from evil\nFor God's is the kingdom and the power\nAnd the glory forever and ever and ever"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishBetter Dayz Lyrics\nLookin' for these better days\n\nBetter days, hey!\nBetter days\nGot me thinkin' 'bout better days\nBetter days, better days, better days\nHey!\nBetter days\nGot me thinkin' 'bout better days\n\nTime to question our lifestyle, look how we live\nSmokin' weed like it ain't no thing, so even kids\nWanna try now, then lie down and get ran through\nNobody watches 'em, clockin' the evil man do\nFaced with the demons, addicted to hearin' victims screamin'\nGuess we was evil since birth, product of cursed semens\n'Cause even our birthdays is cursed days\nA born thug in the first place, the worst ways\nI'd love to see the block in peace\nWith no more dealers and crooked cops, the only way to stop the beast\nAnd only we can change\nIt's up to us to clean up the streets, it ain't the same, too many murders\nToo many funerals, and too many tears\nJust seen another brother buried, plus I knew him for years\nPassed by his family, but what could I say?\nKeep yo' head up and try to keep the faith\nAnd pray for better days\nYou might also like\nBetter days, better days\nHey! Better days\nGot me thinkin' 'bout better days\nBetter days, better days, better days\nHey!\nBetter days\nGot me thinkin' 'bout better days\n\nThinkin' back as an adolescent\nWho would've guessed that in my future years I'd be stressin'?\nSome say the ghetto's sick and corrupted\nPlus my P.O. won't let me hang with the brothers I grew up with\nTryna keep my head up and stay strong\nAll my homies slangin' yayo all day long\nBut they wrong, so I'm solo and so broke\nSavin' up for some Jordan's, \u2018cause they dope\nI got a girl and I love her, but she broke too\nAnd so am I \u2014 I can't take her to the place she wanna go to\nSo, we argue and play fight, all day and night\nMakin' passionate love 'til the daylight\nPlus we about to get evicted, can't pay the rent\nGuess it's time to see who really is your friend\nTell me you pregnant and I'm amazed\nSo many blessings while we stressin', lookin' for them better days (For better days)\nBetter days, better days\nHey! Better days\nThinkin' 'bout better days\nBetter days, better days, better days\nHey!\nBetter days\nGot me thinkin' 'bout better days\n\nNow, me and you was real cool, hell on them square fools\nSince back in high school, we was true, me and you\nHardly parted or separated, we stayed faded\nAffiliated with gang-bangers and still made it\nUp in the gym, mess with me, gotta mess with him\nStill dressin' like grown men when rollin'\nOut in the dark, smokin' Newports, gamin' marks\nGot a place in my heart, homie, stay smart\nLocked you up in the pen', and gave you three to ten\nI send you letters with naked flicks of old friends\nHopin' you well, I know it's hell\nDoin' time in the cells, you need mail when you in jail\nAnd me, I'm doin' cool\nI settled down, had a family, workin' and night school\nEvery once in a while, I reminisce\nAnd I wonder how we ever came to this; I miss the better days\nBetter days, better days\nHey! Better days\nThinkin' 'bout better days\nBetter days, better days, better days\nHey!\nBetter days\nGot me thinkin' 'bout better days\n\nI send this one out to all the homeboys down in, uh\nClinton lockdown, Rikers Island\nAll them dudes I was, uh, locked up with, hehe\nE Block, F Block, lower H\nN-I-C in Rikers Island, downstate\nAll the peoples I met along the way\nBetter days is comin', homeboy, keep your head up!"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsPain Lyrics\nI couldn't help but notice your pain\nMy pain?\nIt runs deep \u2013 share it with me!\n\nThey'll never take me alive, I'm gettin' high with my four-five\nCocked on these suckas, time to die\nEven as a youngster causin' ruckus on the back of the bus\nI was a fool all through high school, kickin' up dust\nBut now I'm labeled as a troublemaker \u2013 who can you blame?\nSmokin' weed helped me take away the pain\nSo I'm hopeless, rollin' down the freeway swervin', don't worry\nI'm 'bout to crash up on the curb 'cause my vision's blurry\nMaybe if they tried to understand me \u2013 what should I do?\nI had to feed my fuckin' family \u2013 what else could I do\nBut be a thug? Out slangin' with the homies\nFuck hangin' with them phonies in the clubs!\nGot my mind on danger, never been a stranger to homicide\nMy city's full of gang-bangers and drive-by's\nWhy do we die at an early age?\nHe was so young, but still a victim of the 12 gauge\nMy memories of a corpse, mind full of sick thoughts\nAnd I ain't goin' back to court, so fuck what you thought!\nI'm drinkin' Hennessy, runnin' from my enemies\nWill I live to be 23? There's so much pain\nYou might also like\nOhhhh\u2026\nTired of the strain and the pain\nOhhhh\u2026\nTired of the strain and the pain\n\nYears and years of that rough life\nRunnin' crazed and wild as a kid and growin' tough with a knife\nAnd livin' trifed on the regular, buckin' out competitors\nSee 'em fake a move and chase 'em down like the fuckin' Predator\nGet in trouble every day in school, act a fool\nAnd you know I had to break every rule\nShowin' off for the bitches 'cause I had the mad rep\nSo I had to watch my back when it was time to step\nBut my grimies is the grimiest with love for me\nPop, pop, pop, and send a sucka up above for me\nAyo, currency kept passin' me by, but I didn't cry, broke\nGot hit off with the pack and started sellin' coke\nAnd now the money's lookin' lovely\nPop the drop top and now the bitches wanna rub me\nKick 'em the game, it's all the same\nI kick it back yo, give 'em slack yo\nAnd now they label me the mack yo, people check it\nGet disrespected if you front on the Birdman, you heard, man\nCatch a couple shots from the Glock in my hand\nDamn! At least I'm realistic with my biscuit\nYou know you get yo' ass twisted, so run for cover\nMe and my man got a plan, kickin' major dust\nSo if you owe, nigga, look for the gauge to bust\nA lot of pressure with the street fame, it's a deep game\nAnd my mama always cryin' yo, there's so much pain\nOhhhh\u2026\nSo tired, so tired...\nOhhhh\u2026\nSo...so...\n\nThey got me mobbin' like I'm loc'ed, and ready to get my slug on\nI load my clip and slip my motherfuckin' gloves on\nI ain't scared to blast on these suckas if they test me\nTrust \u2013 I got my Glock cocked, playa, if they press me\nBust \u2013 on motherfuckers with a passion\nBetter duck, \u2018cause I ain't lookin' when I'm b-blastin'\nI'm a nut and drinkin' Hennessy\nAnd gettin' high, on the lookout for my enemies\nDon't wanna die, tell me why\n'Cause this stress is gettin' major\nA buck 50 across the face with my razor\nWhat can I do but be a thug until I'm dead and gone?\nI keep my brain on the game and stay headstrong\nThese sorry bastards wanna kill me in my sleep\nI'm real, they cannot see\nAnd every day is just a struggle steady thuggin' on the streets\nAnd I'll be ballin', loc, don't let 'em make you worry\nKeep swingin' at these suckas 'til you buried\nI was born to raise hell, a nigga from the gutta\nWord to mother, I'm touched\nOut kickin' dust up, ready to bust\nI'm on the scene, steady muggin' mean, until they kill me\nI'll be livin' this life, I know you feel me; there's so much pain\nOhhh\u2026\nTired of the strain and the pain\nOhhh\u2026\nTired of the strain and the pain\nOhhh\u2026\nTired of the strain and the pain\nOhhh\u2026\nTired of the strain and the pain\nOhhhhhh\u2026"}
{"text":"10 ContributorsJada LyricsU R the omega of my heart\nThe foundation 4 my conception of Love\nWhen I think of what a black woman should be\nIts u that I First think of\nU will never fully understand\nHow Deeply my Heart Feels 4 u\nI worry that we'll grow apart\nAnd I'll end up losing u\nU bring me 2 climax without sex\nAnd u do it all with regal grace\nU r my heart in Human Form\nA Friend I could never replace"}
{"text":"You find a MC like me who's strong\nLeavin' motherfuckers aborted with no verbal support\nAnd when I command the microphone\nI get deadly as Khan, though\nWith a bear and a snake and a panda, I'm all those\nWho can withstand the more power I gain?\nThat make it possible for me to drop a few to wreck yo' brain\nImagine and keep on wishin' upon a star\nFinally realizin' who the fuck we are\nWhen I penetrate, it's been withstandin', faded\nWould it be the greatest MC of all-time? When I created rhyme\nFor the simple fact, when I attack I crush your pride\nOur intention to ride, every time, all night\nI'm faced with the scars beyond this one bar\nFor me to put down my guard, I'm faced what I'ma ride\nBreakin' in gas with a .68 all day\nIn-and-out with my pay, assume to count the bodies\n\nSo mandatory my elevation, my lyrics like orientation\nSo you could be more familiar with the nigga you facin'\nWe must be patient, nothin' better than communication\nKnown to damage and highly flammable, like gas stations\nSorry, I left that ass waitin', no more procrastination\nGive up to fate, and get that ass shakin'\nI'm bustin' and makin' motherfuckers panic\nDon't take your life for granted\nPut that ass in the dirt, you swear the bitch was planted\nMy lyrics motivate the planet\nIt's similar to \"Rhythm Nation\", but thugged out, forgive me, Janet\nWho's in control? I'm activatin' your souls\nYou know the way the games gettin' told\nYo, two years ago, a friend of mine\nTold me Aliz\u00e9 and Cristal blows your mind\nBear witness to the dopest fuckin' rhyme I wrote\nTakin' off my coat, clearin' my throat\nYou might also like\nI got my mind made up, come on (Come on)\nGet in, get into it (Get on it)\nLet it ride (Get with it), tonight's the night\nI got my mind made up, come on\nGet in, get into it (To it)\nLet it ride, tonight's the night\n\nWell, I comes through with two packs of the bomb prophylac's\nFor protection, so my fuckin' sack won't collapse (Uh)\n'Cause nowadays, shit's evadin' the X-rays\nSendin' young motherfuckers to an early grave\nI wonder if my terrifyin' tactics of torturin' MCs\nShows my heart's as cold as the tundra\nElectrifyin' like thunder, I'm just too much\nRough and raw with that motherfuckin' poisonous touch\nI'm an MC with lyrics that's the fuckin' Bombay\nYou got ten steps before instant death like Bai Mei\nMy rhymes'll leave a mark on your mind\nAs the deadly virus spread through your head like Sand Palm\nThere's no escape, nah, I ain't blastin'\nI use my mental to assassinate assassins for those askin'\nOpposed to laughin', raw maniacal villain\nLaughter enhances the chances of the killin'\nWhy is that? 'Cause smilin' faces deceive\nYou best believe, to MCs, I'm the deadliest disease\nMy thoughts rip your throat and make it hard to breathe\nYour whole camp's under siege, and I'm Jason Voorhees (Uh)\nIn the heat of the night is when I defeat and ignite mics\nMy verbal snipe your vocab on site\nI'm out the cut, uncut and raw with no clause for all\nSo all my rhymes hit and split the bricks on the wall (Yeah)\nShould already have an idea about the superior sphere\nThe greater rhyme creator on both sides of the Equator (Equation)\nI rock from here to there, to Philly and back\nTo L.A., on the spot where I rock and bust like straps\nAs your views get overshadowed when you come in contact\nBeware, set and prepare to enter verbal combat\nFuck you losers\nWhile you fake jacks, I make maneuvers\nLike Hitler stickin' up **** with German ****\nThe mister Meth-Tical from Staten Isle\nWill be back after this message, don't touch the dial (Yeah)\nRarely do you see an MC out for justice\nGot my gun powder and my musket, blaow\nMelons get swellings, I paint mental pictures like Magellan\nHalf of my clans repeat felons\nNiggas best protect they joints for nine-nickels\nMan, I stay on point like icicles\nNow, who wanna test Tical, then tes-ticles\nAll up in your motherfuckin' mouth\nHeadbanger boogie, catch me on tour with Al Doogie\nMethod Man rolled too tight, you can't pull me\nBetter take one and pass or that's that ass\nYour vital statistics are low and fallin' fast\nJohnny Blaze out to get loot like Johnny Cash\nPlay a game of Russian Roulette and have a blast\n\nAyo, lyrical gat spittin' the criminal tactics\nNon-believers get my dick and genital backwards\nLet's face it, there's no replacement\nTaste this mad underground basement shit I'm laced with\nAvalanche on your whole camp when I'm splifted\nFunk Doctor, who? Spock, bitch, don't get it twisted\nI got connects like Federal Express\nTo get the fresh package of bless the dogs can't fetch\nGot the clear spot from the rear block\nTo bust 'til every nigga here drop, men, I fear not\nHold your nose and blow out 'til your ears pop\nSince your crew suit you to shift\nNow, you claim that your gears locked\nWhiff this underground cannabis\nI'm dangerous like John the Bomb Analyst\nFlip MCs like ki's\nMy degrees freeze consecutively, like EPMD LPs\nLick off a shot and hit your fam by mistake\nSo I erase the whole front row at the wake\nI planned my escape in case Jake wanna snake\nBust it, I'm the one pushin' the hearse, in the first place\nConfidence for you shaky-ass folks\nPump for Rockafella for the day he got smoke\nChoke off this antidote, got you hope\nGet roast by my lyrical Billy Dee .45 Colt\n(And I'm out for nine-nickel)\nI-N-S the Rebel\nWist, bliss, this\nSis', bliss"}
{"text":"Troublesome, nigga\nHahaha, troublesome 19-motherfuckin'-96\n(Westside!) Let it be known, nigga!\nBoss of all bosses, Makaveli\n\nMenacin' methods, label me a lethal weapon\nMakin' niggas die witnessin' breathless imperfections\nCan you picture my specific plan?\nTo be the man in this wicked land, underhanded hits are planned\nScams are plotted over grams of rocks\nUndercover agents die by the random shots\nWe all die in the end, so revenge we swore\nI was all about my ends, fuck friends and foes!\nMe, a born leader, never leave the block without my heater\nGot me a dog and named her \"my bitch nigga eater\"\nWhat could they do to me, you lil' brat?\nShit, them niggas that shot me is still terrified I'll get they ass\nHow can I show you how I feel inside?\nWe Outlawz, motherfuckers can't kill my pride\nNiggas talk a lot of shit, but that's after I'm gone\n\u2018Cause they fear me in the physical form\nLet it be known I'm troublesome\n\nLa la la la, la, la\nLa, la-la la, lahhh\nBye bye, bye bye\nAll you niggas die\nYou might also like\nTroublesome nigga, Outlawz\nPut it down to the fullest\nSpittin' rhymes and bullets, ha ha\nWe troublesome\nY'all know what time it is\nCall the punk police, they can't stop us\nNiggas run the streets, we troublesome\n\nGutter ways, my mentality is ghetto\nA guerrilla in this criminal war, we all rebels\nDeath before dishonor, bet I bomb on 'em first\nNiggas knew we came for murder, pullin' up in a hearse\nWestside was the war cry, bustin' off freely\nScreamin', \"Fuck all y'all niggas!\" in Swahili\nPistol packin', fresh out of jail, I ain't goin' back\nRelease me to the care of my heartless strap\nSay my name three times like Candyman\nBet I roll on yo' ass, like an avalanche\nA sole survivor, learned to get high and pull drive-bys\nMurder my foes, can't control my nine\nHearin' thoughts of my enemies pleadin', \"please\"\nBusta-ass motherfuckers tried to flee\nPicture me lettin' this chump survive\nRan up on his ass, when I dumped he died\n\u2018Cause I'm troublesome\nLa la la la, la, la\nLa, la-la la, lahhh\nBye bye, bye bye\nAll you niggas die\n\nYoung, strapped, and I don't give a fuck\nI'm hopeless\nI live the Thug Life, losin' my focus, baby\nI'm troublesome, ha ha\nBad Boy killa, there is no one realer\nWhat you saw\nWas the rough, rugged and raw: Outlaw!\n\n\"Murder, murder, my mind state,\" shit ain't changed\nSince my last rhyme; the crime rate ain't decline\nNiggas bustin' shots like they lost they mind\nLike 25 to life never crossed they mind\nTell me young nigga never learned a thang\nDead at thirteen \u2018cause he yearned to bang\nSent a lot of flowers, but how could I cry?\nTried to warn the little nigga, \"Either stop or die.\"\nMercy is for the weak, when I speak I scream\nAfraid to sleep, I'm havin' crazy dreams\nVivid pictures of my enemies, family times\nGod forgive me \u2018cause it's wrong, but I plan to die\nEither take me in Heaven and understand I was a G\nDid the best I could, raised in insanity\nOr send me to Hell, \u2018cause I ain't beggin' for my life\nAin't nothin' worse than this cursed-ass hopeless life\nI'm troublesome\nLa la la la, la, la\nLa, la-la la, lahhh\nBye bye, bye bye\nAll you niggas die\n\nIn your wildest dreams you couldn't picture a nigga like me\nHahahaha \u2013 I'm troublesome, I don't give a fuck\nI'm troublesome\u2026 like my nigga Napoleon said, nigga\nSomebody gotta explain why I ain't got shit\nHa ha, I'm troublesome\nYou know what time it is, the Outlaw clique\nYoung, rugged and sick\nMakaveli the Don, the Boss of all bosses\nMussolini, E.D.I. Mean, Hussein Fatal\nKadafi, Kastro, Napoleon, Khomeini\nHaha, we ain't fuckin' around\nHaha, we troublesome\nAyo, ha ha, we troublesome, I ain't goin', HA HAH\nYoung Kastro, the first to blast, the last one to dash\nGoin' for the hoes and the cash\nFuck you niggas! Outlawz! Ha hah!\nKadafi \u2013 trump tight, never sloppy\nThem motherfuckers try to copy\nBut they can't mock you, nigga, you're too strong\nOutlawz keep it goin' on, you know whassup\nOutlawz, Outlawz, all you niggas die\nOutlawz, Outlawz\nThis is dedicated to the real niggas\nAll the real troublesome soldiers on the streets\n(\u2026Bye bye, bye bye, all you niggas die\u2026)"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsTemptations Lyrics\nHeyyyy! Heyy-ayyaahhyy\n\nYo, Mo Bee, mayn, drop that shit!\nYou know what time\nBoo-yaow! I know it's time for you\nSo grab one by the hand, you know what I'm sayin'?\nAnd uh, throw up that finger!\nHey yo, throw y'all fingers up!\nThug style, baby, thug style, y'know?\n\nTell me, baby are you lonely? Don't wanna rush ya\nI can help ya if you only let me touch ya\nIf I'm wrong, love, tell me 'cause I get caught up\nIn the life I live, it's Hell see, I never thought I'd\nSee the day when I would calm down, you ain't heard?\nI've been known to clown and get around, that's my word\nSee you walking and you looking good, yes indeed\nGot a body like a sex fiend, you're killing me\nWith your attitude to match, right? Don't be phony\n'Cause I hate it when you act like, you don't know me\nI've been stressing in the spotlight, I want the fame\nBut the industry's a lot like, a crap game\nAin't no time for commitment, I gotta go\nCan't be with you every minute miss, another show\nAnd even though I'm known for my one night stand (Look here)\nI wanna be an honest man, but temptations go...\nYou might also like\nHeyyyy! Heyy-ayyaahhyy\nThrow up the finger!\nHeyyyy! Heyy-ayyaahhyy\nAnd all my homies go\nHeyyyy! Heyy-ayyaahhyy\nGive 'em the finger!\nHeyyyy! Heyy-ayyaahhyy\nYou know what, baby, it's like...\n\nI know you've been searching for someone\nTo make you happy and get the job done\nYou say you needed a man with money\nBut I can't be there, and will you still care?\n\nWill I cheat or will I be committed? Heaven knows\nGetting weak and I wanna hit it, so here I go\nIn my ride and I'm all in, gettin' high\nI can hear the people calling I'm passing by\nEverybody knows I'm balling and to God\nGotta keep myself from falling, but it's hard\nAll the cuties know I'm under pressure, what do I do?\nGetting shaky when she pull the dress up, and say it's cool\nShould I stroke or should I wait a while? You decide\nIf you tell me that you don't want it, that's a lie\nMove close and let me whisper some dirty words\nIn your ears as I kiss ya on every curve\nSlow down baby, don't rush, I like it slow\nCan't hold it any longer, so let it go\nOpen the gates to your waterfall up in Heaven\nAnd don't worry, I let myself in, all I heard was..\nHeyyyy! Heyy-ayyaahhyy\nGive 'em the finger!\nHeyyyy! Heyy-ayyaahhyy\nAnd all my homies go\nHeyyyy! Heyy-ayyaahhyy\nGive 'em the finger!\nHeyyyy! Heyy-ayyaahhyy\nIt's just the thug in me\nYou know what, baby, it's like...\n\nI know you've been searchin' for someone\nTo make you happy and get the job done\nYou say you needed a man with money\nBut I can't be there, and will you still care?\n\nA lot of people think it's easy to settle down\nGot a woman that'll please me in every town\nI don't wanna but I gotta do it, the temptation\nGot me ready to release the fluid, sensation\nSit down and conversate like you know me, take my hand\n'Cause even thugs get lonely, understand\nEven the hardest of my homies need attention\nCatch you blowin' up the telephone, reminiscin'\nI wanna take you to the movies and the park\nLet's find a spot for you to do me in the dark\nNow that it's passion, hold me tight\nDon't need lights, I can see you by the moonlight\nI know your man ain't lovin' you right\nYou're lonely and depressed, you need a thug in your life\nEnough talkin', you want me to leave I'll get to walkin'\nSee you later, 'cause baby, I'm a player, and all I heard was\u2014\nGive 'em the finger, and all my homies go\nYo, this how we gonna do this in the nine-trey, y'know?\nThrow your fingers up!\nYou know? They gonna peep this\nThis how we run game on you\nAll my niggas go, uptown in the, give 'em the finger!\nThrow your hands up, give 'em the finger!"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsNever Had a Friend Like Me Lyrics\n\nNever!\nYou ain't never had a friend like me!\nBelieve that!\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me!\n\nSee, at night I watch the sky, I take another breath\nI smoke my Newport to the butt like it's the last motherfucker left\nJust me and you evading enemies\nLet you get my last shot of Hennessy, ain't never had a friend like me\nRemember memories so vividly\nWas once a little dust kicker now becomes a G\nWho can I call when they all fail\nCollect calls to my dogs from the county jail, sending me mail\nHeard the block's in the same shape\nAin't nothing changed, niggas slanging at the same place\nThe same faces suppose to always hate our foes\nThis lifestyle lives forever, watch the game unfold\nShedding crocodile tears, just got life plus\nAnd you wonder if these white judges like us\nJust stay strong, we'll appeal, nigga, you'll be free\nDown with ya to the very end 'cause you ain't never had a friend like me\nYou might also like\nI'm down for you so ride with me\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\nI'm down for you so ride with me\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\n\nHow can I be blamed? Forgive me, Lord, I'm insane\nIn search of fame, won't hurt to change\nFollowing the foot steps of past dealers\nEquipped with Ski masks, no witnesses, we blast squealers\nAnd now they feel us in this act of war, more casualties, no survivors\nAny man that defy us, quickly dies 'cause we riders\nIn my quest for chips\nWe wear vests, equipped with automatic fire we reply when my enemies trip\nMe and you against the nation, whispering while we conversatin'\n'Cause niggas died over information\nHow much more can we take, expect us all to wait\nThe world ain't ready for us yet so let's make Clinton pay\nThey never wanted us to make it\nEverything that we possess, we had to fight and take it\nI think the President is smokin' weed, bumpin' this beat\nMakin' a livin' out of my misery 'til he got a friend like me\nI'm down for you so ride with me\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\nI'm down for you so ride with me\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\n\nPromise to visit, I know it's rough in your cell\nReceiving mail to the county jail, this is hell\nWhen I was younger I could picture livin'\nIn luxury\nSo how the fuck did I end up in prison\nFuckin' snitches, they got me crossed by my own side\nI found him by his self, no drama, he alone die\nNobody cry, should have never testified\nYou got my nigga 25, so now I sacrifice your life\nHelp to separate me and my dog\nBroken ties, why the fuck should I let you live when I'm dead inside?\nRapid fire my delivery\nI'm bustin' at they whole crew nigga, remember me\nHit up my Outlawz set then throw my pistol in the ocean\nDitch my ski mask and get to straight coastin'\nIt's visitin' day at San Quentin, always there to see your closest roaddog\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nI'm down for you so ride with me\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\nI'm down for you so ride with me\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\nI'm down for you so ride with me\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\nI'm down for you so ride with me\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\n\nCome after us, best be complete\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\nCome after us, best be complete\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nNobody knows where we'll be\nMy enemies your enemies\n'Cause you ain't never had a friend like me\n\nRight! You ain't ever had a friend like me\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me\nYou ain't ever had a friend like me\n'Cause you ain't ever had a friend like me"}
{"text":"Hey, Suge, what I tell you, nigga?\nWhen I come out of jail, what I was gonna do?\nI was gonna start diggin' into these niggas' chest, right?\nHeh, watch this!\nHey, Quik, let me see them binoculars, nigga, the binoculars!\nHahahahaha! Yeah, nigga, time to ride!\nGrab your bulletproof vest, nigga\n'Cause it's gonna be a long one\nNow, me and Quik finna show you niggas\nWhat it's like on this side\u2014the real side\nNow, on this ride there's gonna be some real motherfuckers\nAnd there's gonna be some pussies\nNow, the real niggas gonna be the ones with money and bitches\nThe pussies gonna be the niggas on the floor bleedin'\nNow, everybody keep your eyes on the prize\n'Cause the ride get tricky\nSee, you got some niggas on your side\nThat say they're your friends, but, in real life, they your enemies\nAnd then you got some motherfuckers that say they your enemies\nBut in real life, they eyes is on your money\nSee, the enemies will say they true\nBut in real life, those niggas will be snitches\nIt's a dirty game, y'all\nY'all gotta be careful about who you fuck with\nAnd who you don't fuck with, 'cause the shit get wild, y'all\nKeep your mind on your riches, baby\nKeep your mind on your riches\nYou might also like\n9-1-1, it's an emergency, cowards tried to murder me\nFrom hood to the 'burbs, every one of you niggas heard of me\nShit, I'm legendary, niggas scaried and paralyzed\nNothin' more I despise than a liar, cowards die\nMy mama told me when I was a seed\nJust a vicious motherfucker, why these devils left me free?\nI proceed to make 'em shiver when I deliver\nCriminal lyrics from a worldwide mob figure\nThug niggas from everywhere: \"Mr. Makaveli\nNiggas is waitin' for some thug shit\" that's what they tell me\nSo many rumors, but I'm infinite, Immortal Outlaw\nSwitchin' up on you ordinary bitches like a southpaw: you get left\nAnd every breath I breathe until the moment I'm deceased\nWill be another moment ballin' as a G\nI rip the crowd, then I start again, eternally, I live in sin\nUntil the moment that they let me breathe again\nThe hearts of men\n\n\"No heart for the fightin'\"\n\"I was in every gang, they had about five, I was in all of 'em\nWhichever one was winning, 'That's my side'\"\nThe hearts of men\n\"Cause I wasn't fightin' shit\nNigga made me unball my fists once, show you how scared I was\nI had my fists up, ready, he said, 'Muthafucka, put your hands down!'\"\nMy lyrical verge with so much pain, to some niggas, it hurts\nMy guns bust, if you ain't one of us, it gets worse\nBitch niggas get their eyes swoll in fly mode\nI'm a homicidal outlaw, and five-o\nGet your lights on, the fight's on\nTonight's gonna be a fuckin' fight so we might roll\nMy own homies say I'm heartless\nBut I'm a G in this until the day I'm gone, that's regardless\nRide by, niggas bow down, thought I'd rot in jail\nPaid bail, well, a nigga's out now\nThrow up your hands if you thugged out\nFirst nigga act up, first nigga gettin' drugged out\nI can be a villain if you let me\nA motherfucker if you do upset me\nTell the cops to come and get me\nRip the crowd like a phone number, then start again\nDon't have no motherfuckin' friends\nNigga, look inside the hearts of men\n\nIn the hearts of men\n\nTo all my niggas engaged in makin' money in the fifty states\nKeep your mind on your chips and fuck a punk bitch\nNo longer livin' in fear, my pistol close in hand\nConvinced that this is my year like I'm the chosen man\nGive me my money and label me as a don\nIf niggas is havin' problems, open fire and bomb\nI died and came back, I hustle with these lyrics\nAs if it's a game of crack, thuggin' is in my spirit\nI'm lost and not knowin'\nScarred up but still flowin', energized and still goin'\nUhh, can it be fate, that makes a sick motherfucker break\nOn these jealous-ass cowards 'cause they evil and fake?\nWhat will it take? Give me that bass line, I'm feelin' bomb\nDeath Row, baby, don't be alarmed\nThe homie Quik gave a nigga a beat and let me start again\nRepresent, 'cause I've been sent, the hearts of men"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsNo More Pain Lyrics\nHey, DeVante\nNigga, don't you know we're gonna sow up every bitch in the country?\nMe and you, up in the same motherfuckin' room, on the same level\nThis shit here (Hardcore to the brain), hahahaha\nPlease, no more pain\n(Hardcore to the brain) That's right, nigga\nHey, drop that shit, boy\n\nMy adversaries cry like ho's\nFully eradicate my foes\nMy lyrics explode on contact, gamin' you hoes\nWho else but Mama's only son? Fuck the phony niggas, I'm the one\nSay my name, watch bitches come\nNow fire when ready, stay watchin' our figure\nIncrease speed, make you motherfuckers bleed from your mouth quicker\nPlus all these niggas that you run with be on some dumb shit\nTrickin' on hoes, I ain't the one, bitch\nHolla my name and witness game official, it's so sick\nHave every single bitch that came witchu on my dick\nPlus this alcohol increases the chance to be deceased\nI'm movin' you stupid bitches, this is telekinesis\nAm I reachin' your brain? Nigga, how can I explain?\nHow vicious this thug motherfucker came\nWhen I die, I want to be a living legend, say my name\nAffiliated with this motherfuckin' game, with no more pain\nYou might also like X2\nI came to bring the pain, hardcore to the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane (No more pain)\nI came to bring the pain, hardcore to the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane (No more pain)\n\nLine up my adversaries, blast on sight\nAnd fuck your boyfriend, bitch, I want some ass tonight\nYou know my steelo\nAliz\u00e9 and Cristal, weed\nSure you heard of all the freaky shit they say about me, huh?\nPlus all you busters is jealous\nPull your gun out and blast\nI dare you niggas to open fire\nI'll murder that ass\nAnd disappear before the cops come runnin'\nMy Glock's spittin' rounds, niggas fallin' down, clutchin' they stomach\nIt's Westside, Death Row, Thug niggas on the rise\nBusters shot me five times, real niggas don't die\nCan ya hear me? Laced with this game, I know you feel me\nSpit the secret to war, so cowards fear me\nMy only fear of death is reincarnation\nHeart of a soldier with a brain to teach your whole nation and feelin' no more pain\n\nI came to bring the pain, hardcore to the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane (No more pain)\nI came to bring the pain, hardcore to the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane (Yeah, nigga, no more pain)\nI came to bring the pain, hardcore to the brain\n(What? What, nigga?)\nLet's go inside my astral plane (No more pain)\nI came to bring the pain, hardcore to the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane (No more pain)\nI came to bring the pain, hardcore to the brain (No pain, nigga)\nLet's go inside my astral plane (No pain)\nBury me that's what they all say\nIt's time to make a killin', sure to make a million with DeVante\nBitch, I know you want me, what your mouth say?\nNow, watch your eyes\nYou don't wanna get with me, that's a lie\nI got my hands on your hips\nNo time to bullshit\nFreaky bitch, come give me kiss\nTell them niggas from other areas, brothers from here\nSo obsessed with this money makin', it ain't nothin' we fear\nNow they label me a troublemaker 'cause I'm a ridah\nDeath to you playa haters, don't let me find ya\nMama made me rugged, baptized the public\nNow you all thugs, nigga, don't you love it?\nIt's similar to multiple gunshots, retaliation is a must\nWasn't too sure what you facin' so watch the guns bust\nYou niggas will bleed, fuckin' with me, you'll be deceased\nNever restin' in peace, nigga, with no more pain\n\nI came to bring the pain, hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nI came to bring the pain, hardcore from the brain\nLet's go inside my astral plane\nHahahahaha, yeah, nigga, yeah! Hahahaha, no more pain\nIt's just like that, nigga, like that, yeah, no more pain\nMotherfuckers can't handle that shit\nMuch too much for these bitches, no more pain\nFeel me, nigga? Feel me?\nHow you figure you can fuck with me? No more pain\nFully automatic type shit, no more pain\nCoward-ass niggas, cowards\nCome put your mouth on this pistol, nigga\nCome put your mouth on the pistol, no more pain\nClose your eyes, nigga, do it\nDie in the dark, no more pain\nSay Thuuuuuuuug Life, baby\nDeath Row, so what you motherfuckers do? Hahaha\nHey, that's DeVante droppin' that beat like that, biatch!\nIn case you wonderin'\nAnd jealous niggas\nHahaha, see y'all niggas, motherfuckin' niggas are shit, hey\nWestside! Death to everybody that ain't down with me\nThat's on, feel me? Hahaha\nOh yeah, to the cowards\nYou know who I mean, it's still Bad Boy Killa\nJust feel that, Thug Life, shit don't stop\nFat motherfuckers got Downs Syndrome, motherfuckers\nWeak-ass niggas, dancers turned fuckin' CEOs\nPut your mouth on this pistol, nigga\nPut your mouth on the pistol!\nHahahaha, yeah, nigga, no more pain\nPrison ain't changed me, nigga, it made me worse\nFeel me, nigga, hahaha, no more pain\nHey, DeVante, I'm givin' these motherfuckers choices\nNiggas can roll with us, or they can be rolled up under us\nThat's on you, nigga, what you wanna do?\nLast year we was lettin' these niggas kick up dust\nThis year you motherfuckers gon' be dust\nThug Life, nigga, Westside!"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsOld School Lyrics\nHere we go; we gon' send this one out to the old school\nAll these motherfuckers in the Bronx, and Brooklyn, and Staten Island\nQueens, and all the motherfuckers that laid it down, the foundation\nYa know what I'm sayin'? Nothin' but love for the old school\nThat's who we're gonna do this one for, ya feel me?\n\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\nI remember Mr. Magic, Flash, Grandmaster Caz\nLL, Raising Hell, but, that didn't last\nEric B. & Rakim was, the shit to me\nI flip to see a Doug E. Fresh show, with Ricky D\nAnd Red Alert was puttin' in work, with Chuck Chill\nHad my homies on the hill gettin' ill, when shit was real\nWent out to steal\nRemember Raw, with Daddy Kane?\nWhen De La Soul was puttin' Potholes in the game\nI can't explain how it was, Whodini\nHad me puffin' on that buddha gettin' buzzed, 'cause there I was\nThem block parties in the projects and on my block\nYou diggy don't stop sippin' on that Private Stock\nThrough my speaker Queen Latifah, and MC Lyte\nListen to Treach, KRS to get me through the night\nWith T La Rock and Mantronix, to Stetsasonic\nRemember \"Push It\" was the bomb shit, nuttin' like the old school\nYou might also like\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\nI had, Shell Toes, and BVD's\nA killer crease inside my Lee's when I hit the streets\nI'm playin' skelly, Ringolevio, or catch a kiss\nBefore the homies in my hood learned to smack a bitch\nI remember way back, the weak weed they had\nToo many seeds in the trey bag\nI'm on the train headin' uptown, freestyling\nWith some wild kids from Bucktown, profilin'\n'Cause the hoochies was starin', thinkin' \"what them niggas wearin'?\"\nI'm wonderin' if that's her hair, I remember\nStickball, humpin' hoochies on the wall\nOr takin' leaks on the steps, stinkin' up the hall\nThrough my childhood, wild as a juvenile\nA young nigga tryna stay away from Rikers Isle\nMe and my homies breakin' nights, tryna keep it true\nOut on the roof sippin' 90 proof, ain't nuttin' like the old school\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\nRemember poppin' and lockin' to Kurtis Blow, the name belts\nAnd Scott LaRock the Super Ho back in Latin Quarter\nWhen Slick Rick was spittin' La Di Da Di\nGamin' the hoochies at the neighborhood block parties\nI remember, breakdancin' to Melle Mel\nJekyll and Hyde, LL when he Rocks the Bells\nForget the TV, I'd rather hit the streets and do graffiti\nBe careful don't let the transit cops see me\nIt ain't nuttin' like the old school!\n\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\n\"What more could I say? I wouldn't be here today\nIf the old school didn't pave the way\"\nHaha, on the real though\nRemember seein' Brooklyn go crazy up in the motherfuckin' party?\nRemember motherfuckers used to go, \"Is Brooklyn in the house?\"\nAnd motherfuckers would lose they goddamn mind!\nThat's the old school to me; that's what I'm sayin' (Super, Sperm)\nI remember goin' places that motherfuckers was scared to say\nThey was from anywhere but Brooklyn; that shit was the bomb\nBack in the motherfuckin' old school nigga\nRemember skelly, nigga? Knockin' niggas out the box, poppin' boxes?(My Adidas)\nRemember stickball? Member niggas to run that shit like that?\nRemember the block-- 'Member screamin' up at your moms from the window?\n(LL Cool J is hard as Hell...)\nThe ice cream truck, remember all the mother--\n'Member the Italian Ices, yo? Yo, remember the Italian Ices?!\nThe Spanish Niggas comin' down with the coconut ices and shit?\nI came through the door, said it before\nThat was the shit!"}
{"text":"Niggas out there jealous 'cause we be bailin' with Death Row\nThey try to playa hate, but they can't fade us though\nWe be mobbin' through the neighborhood, yeah\nWith that funky sound (So funky)\nWe be throwin' down\n\nThis goes out to you, playa\nYou know, you know who you are\n\nGotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nGotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nGotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\n\nAre you confused?\nYou wonder how it feels to walk a mile inside the shoes\nOf a nigga who don't have a thing to lose?\nWhen me and you was homies\nNo one informed me it was all a scheme\nYou infiltrated my team and sold a nigga's dreams\nHow could you do me like that? I took ya family in\nI put some cash in ya pocket, made you a man again\nAnd now you let the fear put your ass in a place\nComplicated to escape, it's a fool's fate\nWithout your word, you're a shell of a man\nI lost respect for you, nigga, we can never be friends\nI know I'm runnin' through your head now\nWhat could you do? If it was up to you, I'd be dead now\nI let the world know, nigga, you a coward\nYou could never be live until you die\nSee the motherfuckin' bitch in your eye\nType of nigga, that let the evil of the money trap me\nWhen ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me (holla at me)\nYou might also like\nGotta be ready, can\u2019t let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nYou better beware where you lay\nWe better not find where you stay\nSo I gotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nYou better beware where you lay\nWe better not find where you stay\nCurious, spittin' lyrics on the verge of furious\nI'm addicted to currency, nigga, that's why we doin' this\nI got shot up, I surprised the niggas the way I got up\nAnd then I hit the studio, it's time to blow the block up\nNo hesitation, this information got you contemplatin'\nHeartbreakin' and eliminatin' with this conversation\nBreak him and let him see the face of a mental patient\nIt's a celebration of my criminal elevation, more participation\nI want members across the fifty states\nWe keep the nation anticipatin' until we break\nWill I be great, is it my fate to live the life of luxury?\nSome niggas bought my tapes, so much jealousy it scares me\nSo be prepared, 'cause only the strong survive, life isn't fair (fair)\nProbably never knew the way it feels to die\nSo you see, come fuck with me, I give that ass a try\nNigga, holla at me\nGotta be careful, can\u2019t let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nYou better beware where you lay\nWe better not find where you stay\nAnd now I gotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nYou better beware where you lay\nWe better not find where you stay\nI should've saw the signs, I was blinded\nCriminal minds of a young black brotha doin' time\nSo many brothas framed in this dirty game\nIt's a shame, so much pressure on my brain\nWhy she blame me?\nSecrets in the dark, only her and I know\nNow I'm sittin' in the state pen', doin' time slow\nGuess she made a bad decision that got me livin'\nJust like an animal, I'm caged up in state prison\nMy niggas dissin' 'cause hell hath no fury like a woman scorned\nA cemetery full of motherfuckers not knowin'\nPicture my prophecy, I got some attacking me, on top of me\nI'm runnin' from the coppers, but never let 'em stop me\n'Cause I'm a soldier, hell, ever since I was a little nigga\nHavin' fantasies of one day getting older\nNiggas is paranoid, trust; a no-no\nLove is a mystery, fuck the po-po\nHolla at me\nSo when you see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nYou better beware where you lay\nWe better not find where you stay\nGotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nYou better beware where you lay\nWe better not find where you stay\nA nigga gotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nYou better beware where you lay\nWe better not find where you stay\n\nNiggas out there jealous cause we be bailin' with Death Row\nThey try to playa hate, but they can't fade us tho'\nWe be mobbin' through the neighborhood, yeah\nWith that funky sound (so funky)\nWe be throwin' down\n\nGotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nYou better beware where you lay\nWe better not find where you stay\nGotta be careful, can't let the evil of the money trap me\nSo when ya see me, nigga, you better holla at me\nYou better beware where you lay\nWe better not find where you stay"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsCan U Get Away Lyrics\nWhassup? It's 2Pac. Can you get away?\nLet me come swoop you up\n(You know I got a man)\nI know you got a man, but he ain't gon' mind if I take you out\n(Of course he gon' mind)\nLet me take you to lunch, I'll have you back before he even get home, before anybody see\n(I can't, he ain't gon' let me)\nAww c'mon! Pleeeeeease...\n(Nah)\nOh aight \u2013 what's wrong with your eye?\nWhy you got on glasses?\n\nEver since I met ya I could peep the pressure\nIt's like your man don't understand, all he does is stress ya\nI can see your state of misery from the introduction\nAin't 'bout no suckin' and touchin', just harmless discussion\nMaybe we can see a better way, find a brighter day\nLate night phone conversations \u2013 would that be OK?\nI don't wanna take up all your time, be the next in line\nTell me your size, let me find you things with you in mind\nI can see you're cautious and I'm careful not to scare you\nThe anticipation of love makin'\nGot you shakin' when I'm standin' near you\nNews of precision will prepare ya\nIn case you get scared, just ask the man in the mirror\nNow the picture's gettin' clearer\nAll he does is hit you hard\nI tell you to leave him, and you tell me keep my faith in God\nI don't understand, I just wanna bring ya home\nI wonder should I leave you alone\nAnd find a woman of my own\nAll the homies tell me that you don't deserve it\nI contemplate \u2013 but in my heart I know you worth it\nTell me, can you get away?\nYou might also likeEbony, can you get away?\nC'mon\u2026 Let's go\u2026 Can you get away?\nCan you get away?\n\nSo much pressure in the air (I know, I know)\nAnd I can't get away (Just for a little while love)\nI'm not happy here (I know it's hard but, can you get away?)\nSo much pressure in the air\n(Let's go man, get up outta there, can you get away?)\nAnd I can't get away (Do you love him?)\nI'm not happy here (Do you love that man?)\n\nCould it be my destiny to be lonely?\nAin't checkin' for these hoochies that be on me\n\u2018Cause they phony\nBut you was different, I got no need to be suspicious\n\u2018Cause I can tell, my life with you would be delicious\nThe way you lick your lips and shake your hips got me addicted\nI'm sittin' here hopin' that we can find some way to kick it\nEven though I got your digits, gotta struggle to resist it\nSlowly advance when it's my chance not to miss it\nYou blow me kisses when he ain't lookin'\nNow your heart's tooken\nMy only wish is that you change your mind and he get shook\nWanna take you there but you scared to follow\nCome see tomorrow\nHopin' I can take you through the pain and sorrow\nLet you know I care \u2013 that someone's there for your struggle\nDepend on me, when you have needs or there's trouble\nI wanna give you happiness and maybe even more\nI told you before, no time to waste\nWe can hook up at the store. Can you get away?\nSo much pressure in the air (I know it is)\nAnd I can't get away (Yeah, you can)\nI'm not happy here (You ain't happy, huh? Can you get away?)\nSo much pressure in the air (I know\u2026 is he beatin' on you?)\nAnd I can't get away (Did he punch you?)\nI'm not happy here (Throwin' you around the house?)\n\nI sit here reminiscin' and I hope you listenin'\nIn the position to pressure and offer competition\nMe and you was meant to be my destiny, no longer lonely\n\u2018Cause now it's on for you and me, all I can see\nA happy home \u2013 that's my fantasy\nBut my reality is problems with your man and me\nWhat can I do? Don't wanna lose you to this sucker\n\u2018Cause if he touch ya, I got some drama for that busta\nDon't wanna rush ya, but make your mind up fast\nNobody knows, on who controls will it last?\nBefore I ask, I hope you see that I'm sincere\nAnd even if you stay with him today I'm still here\nI refuse to give up, \u2018cause I believe in what we share\nYou're livin' in prison and what he's givin' can't compare\n\u2018Cause everything I feel for you I wanna let you know\nPassionately yours and I'll never let you go\nTell me, can you get away?\nSo much pressure in the air (Can't get away why?)\nAnd I can't get away\nI'm not happy here\n(Let me take you away, all I wanna know, can you get away?)\nSo much pressure in the air (Man)\nAnd I can't get away (Course you can get away)\nI'm not happy here\n(If you really wanted to get away, you could get away)\n\nYou ain't got to go through all this drama and this stress\nWith this old half a man, ya know what I'm sayin'?\nI ain't tryin' to put you in a position\nWhere you gotta give up your lifestyle for everything\nYou need, but now\u2026 he ain't even takin' care of you\nHe beatin' on you and shit; look how you look!\nYou too motherfuckin' raw to be with that nigga\nYa know what I'm sayin'?\nShake that sucker to the left\nLet me show you what this life is really about\nYa know what I'm sayin'? You need to be on first class\nNeed to be goin' to Hawaii, seein' the world\nSeein' what this world got to offer you\nNot goin' to, ya know what I'm sayin'?\nThe emergency room, gettin' stitches\n\u2018Cause this nigga done got jealous. Don't cry, it's all good\n\nCan you take me from here?\nShake that man, get away\nCan you take me from here?\nI'ahhhhhm unhappy here\nAnd I need you to show me love\nBecause it's so much pressure now\nAnd I neeeeed to get awayyyheyyyeahhh"}
{"text":"I've been on the low, I been taking my time\nI feel like I'm out of my mind\nIt feel like my life ain't mine (Who can relate? Woo)\nI've been on the low, I been taking my time\nI feel like I'm out of my mind\nIt feel like my life ain't mine\n\nI don't wanna be alive, I don't wanna be alive\nI just wanna die today, I just wanna die\nI don't wanna be alive, I don't wanna be alive\nI just wanna die\nAnd let me tell you why\n\nAll this other shit I'm talkin' 'bout, they think they know it\nI've been praying for somebody to save me, no one's heroic\nAnd my life don't even matter, I know it, I know it\nI know I'm hurting deep down, but can't show it\nI never had a place to call my own\nI never had a home, ain't nobody callin' my phone\nWhere you been? Where you at? What's on your mind?\nThey say every life precious but nobody care about mine\n\nI've been on the low, I been taking my time\nI feel like I'm out of my mind\nIt feel like my life ain't mine (Who can relate? Woo)\nI've been on the low, I been taking my time\nI feel like I'm out of my mind\nIt feel like my life ain't mine\nYou might also like\nI want you to be alive, I want you to be alive\nYou don't gotta die today, you don't gotta die\nI want you to be alive, I want you to be alive\nYou don't gotta die, now let me tell you why\nIt's the very first breath when your head's been drowning underwater\nAnd it's the lightness in the air when you're there chest-to-chest with a lover\nIt's holding on, though the road's long, seeing light in the darkest things\nAnd when you stare at your reflection, finally knowing who it is\nI know that you'll thank God you did\n\nI know where you been, where you are, where you goin'\nI know you're the reason I believe in life\nWhat's the day without a little night?\nI'm just tryna shed a little light\nIt can be hard\nIt can be so hard\nBut you gotta live right now\nYou got everything to give right now\n\nI've been on the low, I been taking my time\nI feel like I'm out of my mind\nIt feel like my life ain't mine (Who can relate? Woo)\nI've been on the low, I been taking my time\nI feel like I'm out of my mind\nIt feel like my life ain't mine\nI finally wanna be alive, I finally wanna be alive\nI don't wanna die today, I don't wanna die\nI finally wanna be alive, I finally wanna be alive\nI don't wanna die, I don't wanna die\n\nPain don't hurt the same, I know\nThe lane I travel feels alone\nBut I'm moving 'til my legs give out\nAnd I see my tears melt in the snow\nBut I don't wanna cry, I don't wanna cry anymore\nI wanna feel alive, I don't even wanna die anymore\nOh, I don't wanna\nI don't wanna\nI don't even wanna die anymore"}
{"text":"Son, you know why you the greatest alive?\nWhy, Dad?\nBecause you came out of my balls, nigga\nHahahahahaha\n(Roof!)\n\nFuck rap\nBustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic\nWho done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back\nHold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive\nLeave a suicide note, fuck that\nBobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this\nI'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby\nI'm feelin' like I'm, chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady with rabies\n\nI'm foamin' at the mouth, ain't nobody takin' me out\nEvery single rapper in the industry, yeah, they know what I'm about\nAnd I dare you to test me\n'Cause not a single one of you motherfuckers impress me\nAnd maybe that's a little bit of an exaggeration\nBut I'm full of innovation\nAnd I'm tired of all of this high school \"He's cool, he's not\" rap shit\nCan a single one of you motherfuckers even rap? Shit\nNo, this ain't a diss to the game, this a gas to the flame\nNowadays, everybody sound the same, shit's lame\nLike a moth to the flame, I'ma reel 'em in and kill 'em\nKnow you feelin' lyricism when I'm spillin' it, I'm feelin' myself\nYeah, yeah, Bobby Boy, he be feelin' himself\nMass murder like this can't be good for my health\nWhen I rap like this, do I sound like shit?\nWell, it don't really matter, 'cause I'm killin' this shit\nYeah, I'm killin' this shit\nOh yeah, oh yeah, I'm killin' this shit\nBobby, how many times you been killin' this shit?\nFind another rhyme, goddamn, nigga, shit\nYou might also like\nFuck rap\nBustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic\nWho done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back\nHold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive\nLeave a suicide note, fuck that\nBobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this\nI'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby\nI'm feelin' like I'm, chika-chika-chika-chika\nChika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady\n\nThere's nowhere to hide, we call this shit genocide\nHit 'em with that (Do-do-do) and they die\nWe gon' leave 'em crucified, we call this shit genocide\nI got bitches, I got hoes, I got rare designer clothes\nNo, we ain't fuckin' with that\nYeah, there's a time and a place\nBut if you ain't comin' with the illest of raps\nCallin' yourself the greatest alive\nThen you don't deserve to do that\nNo, no, oh no, no, please do not do that\nYou gon' get smacked\nYou gon' make Bobby attack\nYou gon' make Bobby Boy snap\nYou gon' make Bobby Boy snap (Bobby Boy!)\nFuck rap\nBustin' like an addict with a semi-automatic\nWho done had it, and he ready for anybody to buck back\nHold up, catch a vibe, ain't no way in hell we leavin' nobody alive\nLeave a suicide note, fuck that\nBobby feelin' villainous, he killin' this\nI'm comin' for your man and his lady and even the baby\nI'm feelin' like I'm chika-chika-chika-chika\nChika-chika-chika-chika-chika, Slim Shady\n\nJigga-jigga-jigga-jigga-jigga like JAY-Z\nJig is up, you fuckers who didn't write anything\nAre getting washed, liga-liga-liga, like bathing\nYoung Hova, I know hitters like Yankees\nGun toters that pull triggers like crazy\nUnloadin', leave you shot up in your Rover\nYour body goes limp and slumps over\nLike A-Rod in a month lull, but he just homered\nHol' up, I said \"Rover\" because now your Rover is red\nLike Red Rover, so you know what I meant\nBut I roll over my opponents instead\nMakin' dog sounds 'cause I gotta keep breakin' these bars down\nI'll go slow for the speds\nBut when I go (Roof!) like the Dobermann said\nI still think the (Roof!) would go over your head (Ha-ha)\nBeast mode, motherfuckers 'bout to get hit\nWith so many foul lines, you'll think I'm a free throw\nFigured it was about time for people to eat crow\nYou about to get out-rhymed, how could I be dethroned?\nI stay on my toes like the repo, a behemoth in sheep's clothes\nFrom the East Coast to the West, I'm the ethos and I'm the G.O.A.T\nWho the best, I don't gotta say a fuckin' thing, though\n'Cause MCs know\nBut you don't wanna hear me spit the facts\nYour shit is ass like a tailbone\nOr you're trapped in your cell phone\nOr my chicken scratch, or my self-loathe\nI don't wanna fuckin' listen to you spit your raps someone else wrote\nUsed to get beat up by the big kids\nUsed to let the big kids steal my big wheel\nAnd I wouldn't do shit but just sit still\nNow money's not a big deal\nI'm rich, I wipe my ass with six mill'\nBig bills like a platypus\nA caterpillar's comin' to get the cannabis\nI'm lookin' for the smoke but you motherfuckers are scatterin'\nBatterin' everything and I've had it with the inadequate\nMan, I can see my dick is standin' stiff as a mannequin\nAnd I'm bringin' the bandana back, and the fuckin' headband again\nA handkerchief and I'm thinkin' of bringin' the fuckin' fingerless gloves back\nAnd not giving a singular fuck, like fuck rap\nI sound like a fuckin' millionaire\nWith a Derringer with a hair trigger\n'Bout to bear hug a fuckin' terrier, the Ric Flair dripper\nY'all couldn't hold a candle at a prayer vigil\nWhen I vent, they compare me to a fuckin' air duct\nI'm 'bout to bare-knuckle it, nah, fuck it\nI'm gonna go upside their head with a Nantucket\nAbraca-fuckin'-dabra\nThe track is the blood, I'm attracted, I'm attackin' it\nWhat? Dracula, fuck that shit\nI'm up, back with a thud\nMan, stop\nLook what I'm plannin', plannin', I'm plannin' to\nDo all this while ya panickin'\nAnd you're lookin' and starin' at mannequins\nAnd I'm goin' to Fanagans\nTrying to get up a plan against\nAll of the blana-kazana-ka-fam-bam-bannigans\nWhile of all the bana-kazanika Hanna in a cabana\nYou're in a cab-\nI'm in a cabana and a Janet\nI'm in a cabana chantin' all this standup banter\nWhile you don't got the stamina, you're lackin' the stamina\nYou're lackin' the stamina while you're divorcin' Harrison Ford\nAnd I'm in a Porsche on the floorboards\nWhile I'm world tourin'\nYou usin' way too many napkins, papkins\nLapkins and chapki-\nYou using ChapStick and napkins while I'm bapkin'\nFlappin' around like a bapkin'\nFlamminababbitapannitajampkin\nDammit, a can of pada-"}
{"text":"Yeah, uh, yeah\n\nLivin' life like this\nGotta paint a picture when I write like this\nTales from my hood, not a sight like this\nWhere they up to no good on a night like this\nAnd they murder motherfuckers just 'cause\nType of shit I see, you probably wonder where I was\nI was in the crib, just sittin' on the rug\nBasedheads comin' through lookin' for the plug\nNow, born and raised in my area\nBeautiful by day, by night it's hysteria\nFuck around and bury ya tonight\nRidin' with my homies on sight\nMomma tell me to come in at night\nNow I really gotta go, but they never know\nLivin' life to the fullest, I gotta blow\nPo-po finna bust in the door, we got blow in the crib\nIn the kitchen over there next to the baby with the bib\nGoddamn, what it feel like, middle of the night\nWakin' up, scared for my life\nNever had the heat, just a knife\nWhen the gat go blat like that\nGuarantee you it\u2019s a wrap\nFinna put you on your back like that\nJust breathe, while their mama grieve\nBullet to the dome like an Aleve\nGotta leave for the premises, to murder my nemesis\nNo, no, uh, uh, just stop, stop, stop\n\u2018Fore they even call the cops\nDo it for the money and the bitches\nAnd the drugs and the props\nTell me why another body even gotta drop\nGet shot off top for some shit that was gang related\nYou might also like\nUp first at five tonight, breaking news in Gaithersburg, where a massive manhunt is underway after a deadly shooting. It's all unfolding in the 400 block of West Deer Park and 355. Our Montgomery County reporter joins us, with the latest tonight\nLivin' life like this\nHope little Bobby never fight like this\nStab a motherfucker with a knife like this\nAll about the money on a night like this\nRun up in the crib, put a bullet in your rib\nGot a lot to give, but I never had the chance\nNever had the chance, yeah\nStay strapped, but I hate it when I take it out\nIf you want it I'ma lay it out\nHope my little brother make it out\nEvery night what I pray about what I pray about\nCheck it, uh yeah, got a son on the way\nBut I cling to the streets even though I wanna run away\nI imagine a better life\nWhere I never had a debt in life\nHit you with the *gunshots* in the dead of night\nSellin' crack to my own pops\nPushin' this weight on my own block\nIf I sell a brick I can buy a house\nIf they find the key they might lock me up\nBut I take the chance 'cause I need that shit and don\u2019t give a fuck\nTake the chance, 'cause I need that shit and don\u2019t give a fuck\n \u2014 Get down or lay down\nHit ya with the Beretta, you better stay down\nStray shots on the playground\nLivin' how I'm livin' with the life that I'm given\nAnybody that\u2019s ridin' with me, I\u2019m ridin' with 'em\nShow me the enemy, and I'ma hit 'em\nThe second I bit 'em, I get 'em\nAnd hit 'em with the venom\nAin\u2019t no need to pretend I'ma never do it\nI knew it, already been through it\nI do it for the street, for the fam, for the life\nAnybody that's gang related"}
{"text":"Ayy, bitch, I've been goin' and goin' like the Energizer\nYeah, I'm supplyin' the wood like Elijah\nIn the cut, smokin' on indica\nMight fuck around and compartmentalize ya\nThey say, they say life is a bitch\nAnd if that is the case then I'm finna surprise her\nNo, I am not an advisor, but I do advise ya\nTo pay attention, never need to mention\nI'm that motherfucker bustin' heads\nFinna push it to the ledge\nYeah, I been smokin' my meds\nAin't got no love for the feds\nCan't let fame go to yo' head\nFuck with me, watch where you tread\nI'm finna kill it instead\nI'm finna, I'm finna, I'm finna\nI will, I will, do it like I never done it\nAnd I wanna run it and I wanna keep it goin' and goin'\nLike infinity, be the only entity to ever rip it apart\nFrom the start like this, from the heart like this\nFinna murder it, a million miles a minute, no nitrous\nDoin' righteous\nI-I been, I-I-I been down this road before\nEverybody think that they do but they don't\nSwear to God that they would but they won't\nSpittin' riddles in the middle of a past-time\nMe in my mind, feelin' divine, like yeah\nFinna get it like yeah\u2014yeah\nLike yeah, like yeah (Woo, woo, woo, woo)\nI done made 20 million dollars (Preach)\nI don't flex to be acknowledged (Preach)\nAt this point it's common knowledge (Preach)\nAll you haters been abolished (Preach)\nYou in the club throwin' dollars, but I'm savin' mine so my kids go to college (Preach)\nOr maybe whatever they wanna do (Preach)\nJust as long as they never say (Preach)\n\"Daddy blew 20 million dollars (Ayy)\nHe had to flex to be acknowledged (Ayy)\nHe in the club throwin' dollars\nAnd now cannot afford to send me to college (Ayy)\nDaddy just wanna be loved\nJust like everybody wanna be accepted (Ayy)\nBut somehow he had neglected\nMe and my momma for all of this rap shit\" (Ayy)\nNo, I cannot fuck with that shit (Ayy)\nNo, I cannot fuck with that\nYou might also like\nWho you know dropped an album\nBack to back to back to back to back to back again?\nI'm back again to snap again\nAnd goddamnit, it ain't no other way around it\nYeah, it's happenin', 'cause I've been livin' in a world on my own\nLeave me alone, I'm in the zone\nWhere I've been prone to destroy shit\nYou cannot avoid this, wack mothafuckas have annoyed this\nYes, you know I enjoy this\nPreach, mothafuckin' preach\nYeah, I'm tryna reach everybody in the streets\nWritin' words to the beats\nEach one teach one, yeah, I'm tryna reach one\nWho the beast one?\nThat be me, on the top to the East one\nTell me how you really wanna do it right now, time to murder this\nShout out everybody, no fuckin' around, ain't heard of this\nHeard of us, we ain't goin' nowhere, it's a herd of us\nHold up, roll up\n\nLevitated like I'm David Blaine\nLivin' a dream like I'm David Aames\nTalk all you want, we are not the same\nStep in the spot, now they know the name\nSold more albums my first week than Harry Styles and Katy Perry\nIf that ain't a sign of the times\nThen I don't know what is, man this shit is scary\n'Cause bitch, I've been blowin' up like C-4\nAnd I'm 3 for 3 like a free throw\nAnybody hatin' on the boy, take a step back and then deep-throat\nNow my phone blowin' up like ring\nLike ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring, ring!\nThat Kevin Durant, I'm a champion\nCheck the numbers, I'm a champion\nCan't sleep on the boy anymore\nBut the haters that love to hate gon' pop an Ambien\nStar Lord, champion\nKnow the name, now they know the alias, that's for sure\nGave 'em 44, now here's 44 more"}
{"text":"Okay I was gone for a minute but I'm back now\nSit the fuck back down\nSeem like everybody nowadays Hollywood\nOh, it\u2019s like that now?\nI'ma show you mothafuckas how to act now\nI'ma show 'em how to act\nI'ma show 'em how to act\n\nOkay now picture little Bobby just a youngin' runnin' round\nWith his mans, hammer in his hands, feelin' like the man\nRun, mothafucka, run\nBefore the popo get the gun, put it to your brain like goddamn!\nEverybody know you ain't about it\nEverything you talk about I know I can live without it\nRed light, stop. Green light, go!\nEverything ain't what it seem like\nMothafucka I know!\nHold up, what you mean, where you been?\nBitch, I been in\nThis is merely the beginning again\nWhat you been living in?\nA box, under the bridge, like Anthony Kiedis?\nLooking for something to complete us\nAnd maybe lead us, fuck an elitist\nHell of a long way from equal is how they treat us\nBody of a builder with the mind of a fetus\nTurn on the television and see the vision they feed us\nAnd I wish I could erase that, face facts\nYou might also like\nEverybody people, everybody bleed, everybody need something\nEverybody love, everybody know, how it go\nEverybody people, everybody bleed, everybody need something\nEverybody love, everybody know\n\nI been knockin' doors down like a Jehovah witness\nGod as my witness, I'm with this\nBut on the real, I think I need another witness!\nIf it was 1717, black daddy, white momma wouldn't change a thing\nLight skin mothafucka certified as a house nigga\nWell I'll be God damned, go figure\nIn my blood is the slave and the master\nIt's like the devil playin' spades with the pastor\nBut he was born with the white privilege!\nMan, what the fuck is that?\nWhite people told me as a child, as a little boy, playin' with his toys\nI should be ashamed to be black\nAnd some black people look ashamed when I rap\nLike my great granddaddy didn\u2019t take a whip to the back\nNot accepted by the black or the white\nI don't give a fuck, praise God, I could see the light\nEverybody talkin' 'bout race this, race that\nI wish I could erase that, face facts\nEverybody people, everybody bleed, everybody need something\nEverybody love, everybody know, how it go\nEverybody people, everybody bleed, everybody need something\nEverybody love, everybody know\n\nOkay I was gone for a minute but I'm back now\nSit the fuck back down\nSeem like everybody nowadays Hollywood\nOh, it's like that now?\nI'ma show you mothafuckas how to act now\nI'ma show 'em how to act\nI'ma show 'em how to act"}
{"text":"\nDog 'round\u2014from a\u2014from a\u2014dog 'round\u2014once a\nDog 'round\u2014from a\u2014from a\u2014dog 'round\u2014once a\nDog 'round\u2014from a\u2014from a\u2014dog 'round\u2014once a\nDog 'round\u2014from a\u2014from a\u2014dog 'round\u2014\n\nWork so fucking much, my greatest fear is I'ma die alone\nEvery diamond in my chain, yeah, that's a milestone (I'm lovin' it!)\nPeople calling me, askin' me for money, man (Uh)\nThe only thing I'ma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone (Yeah)\n\nFlashbacks of a youngin' sippin' that purple Kool-Aid\nSkippin' school with my homies and chiefing reefer for two days\nRunning from the law, livin' how I'm livin', fuck 'em all\nBumping Triple Six\nHennessy in my cup, drivin' through the sticks\nWho the bitch ridin' with me?\nMan, the devil tryna get me\nMotivated, under-educated, and hated\nBut finally gettin' cake like a happy belated\nBitch I made it, we on\nBuy it, break it, roll it, light it, smoke it, inhale it\nWrite it, record it, mix it, master it, press it up, unveil it\nFeel like I've been waitin' forever, forever to inherit\nThis is war, I declare it\nTime is money, I can't spare it\nFuturistic, so simplistic\nPlease decipher my linguistics\nSlow it down, Robitussin\nI'm the king, ain't no discussion\nAnd now we blowin' up like spontaneous human combustion\nMy consumption is the illest\nSection eight, I know you feel this\nOn the come up,  where they run up on you for nothin' at all\nBrighter than eleven suns, this the first, where my funds?\nEBT, that's the card\nI thank God, I thank God, but it's hard\nUh, but it's hard\nYou might also like\nUh, work so fuckin' much, my greatest fear is I'ma die alone\nEvery diamond in my chain, yeah, that's a milestone\nPeople callin' me, askin' me for money, man\nThe only thing I'ma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone\n\nGod damn, god damn, we at it again\nMe and my homies that know me blowing up like the Taliban\nYeah, my stress up, but I'm blessed up\nFuck around and get messed up\nWhen I murder the rhyme, I'm livin' divine\nYou know that I'm one of a kind\nLemme get it right now, ho\nDraped up and I'm dripped out (And I'm dripped out)\nRight now, ho\nCaked up 'til I cash out and I got 'em all wonderin', \"How so?\"\nOn the down low, haters drown slow\nOn the down low, haters drown slow\nOh God, my God, we got it all right\nOh God, my God, we gotta get it, right?\nThese fuckers facades, they just a mirage, right?\nI said these fuckers facades, they just a mirage, right?\nUh, tell me that they love me\nKnow damn well that they don't give a fuck\nI be on that finger-flippin' killin' shit up in the cut\nThat's what's up\nAll these bitches out here tryna gas it up\nThis is everything I ever wanted, I can't pass it up\nLife changed in a year, couldn't happen fast enough\n\"Can I do it like you do it?\" That's what they be askin' us\nWhite Benz, black card, bitch better get your plastic up\nMan, this shit is hella hard, but we never actin' up\nLive it up, hold on to your dream, don't ever give it up\nFinally had my share of success, and shit, I can't get enough\nNow they know my name through the nation\n'Cause my single like that good shit, man, always in rotation\nNow they know Logic for Logic, not through my affiliations\nStackin' profit on profit, from this music I'm makin'\nEven Jesus had haters, so when you feelin' forsaken\nTell 'em jealous Judases who this is, and man, that'll break 'em\nAnd bitch, I'm still the same\nDash of autotune so y'all can feel the pain\nBroke as fuck, back in that basement, not a dollar to my name\nChasin' fame, chasin' glory, 'til the day we make a story\nPositive that life ain't mine, bitch you can take that shit to Maury\nWork so fuckin' much, my greatest fear is I'ma die alone\nEvery diamond in my chain, yeah, that's a milestone\nPeople callin' me, askin' me for money, man\nThe only thing I'ma give you motherfuckers is the dial tone\n(Hello, no one is available to take your call)\nI been workin' hard, I been searchin' for God\nI been workin' hard, I been searchin' for God\n(Please leave a message after the tone)\nLittle brother, this is yo' sister, you're busy, I get you\nBut I insist you call me back 'cause I miss you\nI wish you well, well, I wish you would call\n'Cause lately it feel like I\u2019m just not yo' sister at all\u2014all\nUh, I\u2019m sorry for callin' and bawlin', I\u2019m all in\nAnd I feel like I'm fallin' lately, it feel like my children hate me\nYou tell me I'm beautiful and yet no man wanna date me\nHaunted by vivid memories of that man who raped me\nAnd lately I, I feel more and more like mommy, I know I\u2019m me, but still\nYou always seemed to pick up the phone and somehow I feel\nBetter, but you been answerin' me lesser and lesser\nSo I resorted to the pills in my dresser, I'm gone\nAnd as for... oh no, he left and he ain\u2019t comin' back\nI hate him and if I see him I swear I tell him that\nNo longer cookin' crack in my kitchen, cuttin' an' sellin' that\nHe broke my heart, that relationship been to hell and back\nI been workin' hard, I been searchin' for God\nI can feel the Devil around me as they all applaud\nPromise you won't forget me, that you'll always be wit' me\nAnd even when you gone I can call whenever he hit me\nUnder pressure, I've been feeling under pressure\nHey, son, this is your father, don't mean to bother\nHow are you? Heard you were in town, but I never saw ya\nTried to call ya, where are ya?\nIn Paris? What a beautiful destination\nTo perish right by the Eiffel, come now\nPlease don't be spiteful of all my small talk\nI think we're overdue a long talk\nWhen I see kids around the way, I say how I'm your dad\nIt gets me thinkin' 'bout incredible moments we've had\nAnd on the real, I'm tryin' so hard not to bug you\nBut do you think you could stop rappin' about my drug use?\nI'm two years clean, no longer a fiend\nYeah, I'm 57, but I feel 19\nAnd I love you I swear, Bobby, I know you're there\nAnd when the time is right I know that you gon' take care\nOf anything I need, of yo' family\nCan I have some tickets to your next show?\nWould you stand wit' me?\nCan I have some money for my new honey that's hella fine?\nI forgot to mention I got divorced from yo' step-mom\nMy mind goin' crazy, but I still look hella calm\nMaybe you could tell *beep*\nI've been feelin' under pressure\nHey, what's up, bro? This Ralph, I didn't want much, man, just calling to see what's going on. I know you're busy. Uh, Dad hit me up, it's his birthday today, but I know you know that. Uh, yeah, he calling, he be tryna introduce me to his new chick and stuff, man, I don't know how to handle that. I don't wanna tell him like nah, I ain't trying to meet her off top, you know? So what you think I should do? Text me, I know you're busy, dawg. But he been callin' me saying he wanna come down, he wanna bring his new chick and Brenda's like \"Damn, he really tryna rock out with his new chick\" 'cause you know we all fuck with Debbie. But I don't know, I don't know how to tell him this shit so just hit me back whenever you got the time, man, I know there's more shit on your plate. You ain't\u2014you ain't gotta hit me, dawg, but if you do I'd appreciate it. When you back, love you, do your thing. Swag RattPack all day, boy. Alright, nigga, hit me\nUh, yeah, dear family, I'm so sorry that I've been distant\nEverything changed in an instant, my time has been inconsistent\nI know that you been insistin', I know that birthday I missed it\nI swore I told my assistant, but I guess my mind is in another place\nThoughts off in another world, I started seein' another girl\nIt fell through, man, what a world\nBut I'm so focused on my craft, on employin' my staff\nSuch a perfectionist, I can't even finish this draft\nThis letter to the ones I love, the ones that I miss\nBrothers and sisters that hit me up just to reminisce\nMeanwhile, people outside of my blood askin' for favors\nI don't owe you a fuckin' thing, you best switch yo' behavior\nTruly remarkable how I barely know you, but somehow owe you When you don't even know 'bout the shit I go through, uh\nWe ain't spoken in a while, tell me sister, how yo' child?\nCome now, girl, give me a smile, come on, girl, don't do me foul\nSorry I ain't call before, but I'm callin' you right now\nI heard that you was poppin' E, stop resortin' to the vowel\nHow my mama, how she doin'? Does she know what I'm pursuin'?\nI ain't talk to her in years, that relationship she ruined\nBut sometimes I wake up and wonder just what the fuck I'm doin'\nThey say family is everything, I swear that shit the truth\nI should spend it all with y'all, but I spend it in the booth\nThis is everything I love, this is everything I need\nNever sacrifice this feelin' even though my heart it bleed\nThis is everything I love, everything I need\nNever sacrifice this feelin' even though my heart bleed\nUnder pressure, I've been feelin' under pressure\n\nHey, son, I'm sorry I missed your call today, but I was in an AA meeting. Um, a friend of mine was celebrating four years so I couldn't get you right then. And then when I did call you, you weren't able to answer or whatever. Just wonderin' how things are going. Deb and I aren't together anymore, um... Livin' on my own, you know, um... Anyway, the whole family, even the family that you don\u2019t know, my sisters and your aunts that you've never met are very proud of you. Your cousins just love you too. Anyway, son, I love you, I just want you to know that. And just keep grindin', you know? And um, I don't wanna hear you joinin' the Illuminati 'cause then I gotta kill ya. Hm-hm, I love you, son, bye"}
{"text":"I can feel you in my lungs, feel you in my veins\nBloodstream only way to make it to my brain\nI tried some others but man they just not as good as you\nGoing crazy 'cause I only feel this good with you\nMaybe I'm just not as strong as I once was\nWhen we're together lately I don't even feel a buzz\nI'm addicted to this shit like it was hard drugs (Drugs)\nNikki baby, I love you but now I gotta go\n'Cause in the end what happens you already know\nProbably wonder where I been at, I been laying low\nBut in my mind I'm wondering what I'm paying for (Paying for)\nAll these other bitches on my dick but I can't fuck with that\nYou're the only girl I need I gotta have you back\nEven though you turn my lungs black (My lungs black)\nTell me where you been Jack (Been Jack)\nUh, I know this shorty that go by the name of Mary\nI used to fuck her way back when I didn't know a thing\nSkipping school with all my homies on some truancy\nBut when I ended things with her it was just you and me\nDoing me good, that's what I thought at first\nMe and you together, swear to God that's all that worked\nAway from you though man it's just so hard to work (Hard to work)\nUh, my heart is hard at work\nWe been together like ten years\nGoddamn, took me as a young man\nEveryday I wonder who I am, who will I be, where will I go\nWhat will they write upon my grave?\nA free man born as a king, who died as a slave\nBut everything he gave her was for nothing though\nOh no I can't fade that shit I gotta let you go\nYou got me tripping like a flight to Vegas\nAll this shit you got me doing man it's outrageous\nAll I know is I'm living the life I never would\nFinally let you go, I thought I never could\nDon't get me wrong, can't forget the times shared\nSeem like everywhere I go, I always know you're there\nTried to run but my legs won't\nI look away but my head don't\nI love it when you're fresh\nI love it when I take your top off and we share the same breath\nI hate it that I need you, Nikki\nBut I love it when I feed you, Nikki\nI hate that I bleed for you\nUh, I long and I need for you\nBut I love it when I taste you (Taste you)\nNothing can replace you (Replace you)\nI wish I could erase you, you\u2019re everywhere I go\nBut you're everywhere I long to be\nAnd all these other people that don't seem to understand\nI'm just a man they always ask what\u2019s wrong with me\nMan you're everything I crave\nYou're the only thing I let in that would put me in the grave\nI'm a king, you're my Coretta\nBut lately, I been feeling like a slave for the nicotine (Nicotine, nicotine)\nYou might also like\nSlave for the\u2014\nSaid, I'm a slave for the nicotine (Nicotine, nicotine)\nBeen a slave for ya\nI'm a muthafuckin' slave for ya\nSlave for the nicotine (Nicotine, nicotine)\nNikki, Nikki, slave for ya\nI'm a slave for ya Nikki\nI'm a muthafuckin' slave for ya\nAll handwriting on the album's artwork was done by Big Lenbo\u2014"}
{"text":"Jesus, Black Jesus\nJesus, Black Jesus\n\nI been feeling so down\nI think they should know now\nI think they should know what's up\nThat's that road I been down\nI know how it go down\nI know how it go now, what's up\nI feel like I don\u2019t belong\nI feel like my life is wrong\nI feel like I don\u2019t know what's up\nWhat's up, what's up\nYeah, yeah\nAyy\n\nI ain\u2019t here to pick and choose\nI ain't here to sing the blues\nI\u2019m just here to spread the clues\nI\u2019m just here to spread the news\nEverybody know I do\nListen\nI ain\u2019t ashamed to be white\nI ain\u2019t ashamed to be Black\nI ain\u2019t ashamed of my beautiful Mexican wife as a matter of fact\nI know you fucking with that\nAnd I\u2019m not scared of the people who tell me I should be\nDo what you love and don\u2019t ever wonder what it could be\nEverybody from my hood, everybody know I\u2019m good\nSometimes I\u2019m misunderstood\nBut that's just the uneducated that never related and feel like I'm fading off\nThey feel like I'm fading\nI'm right out my mind\nTell 'em!\nMomma don't love me\nDaddy don't love me\nWonder why I drown in the bubbly\nYou could be anything you wanna be\n'Cept the person you don\u2019t wanna be\nLet him hate let em love\nWondering if everybody still like this up above\nWhen that push come to shove\nMake me wanna pull up with the, with the gat in the glove like\nI just wanna be free\nNot a slave to the stereotype\nAll alone in my room in the middle of the night\nI don\u2019t have the words but my stereo might\nI don't wanna be black, I don\u2019t wanna be white, I just wanna be a man today\nI don't wanna be a Christian, Muslim, gay, straight, or bi, see you later, bye\nNot perceived by the things I believe or the color of my skin\nOr the fact I\u2019m attracted to her, maybe him\nOr the fact I\u2019m a single mother living all alone\nLooking for a man and a home to call my own\nBut I already have one\nThe only man I\u2019ma ever need is my son, my son, my son, my son\nSon, say:\nBlack is beautiful\nBe black and proud\nFuck everybody hatin' on me right now, I\u2019m black and proud\nI\u2019m just as white as that Mona Lisa\nI\u2019m just as black as my cousin Keisha\nI\u2019m biracial so bye Felicia\nPraise Black Jesus now call the preacher\nMaybe Jesus was black\nMaybe Jesus had dreads\nSpiderman should be black\nI vote for Glover instead\nGlover instead\nLike what's up\nI vote for more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more and more\nI vote for so much more\nYou might also like\nI been feeling so down\nI think they should know now\nI think they should know what's up\nThat's that road I been down\nI know how it go down\nI know how it go now, what's up\nI feel like I don\u2019t belong\nI feel like my life is wrong\nI feel like I don\u2019t know what's up\nWhat's up, what's up\nGo on and let your soul glow\nLet your soul glow\nGlow\nShine and glow\nLet it glow\nGlow\nLet, let it\nBlack Spiderman can he save a brother now\nBlack Spiderman can he save a brother now\nYeah\nLet your soul glow\nLet your soul glow\nGlow\nYeah\nAyy man\nWhat's up, bro?\nSpiderman should be Black\nYeah, I mean Spiderman should be Black\nFuck yeah\nYeah man\nBlack Spiderman\nBlack Superman\nBlack Santa Claus\nShit, Black Seinfeld\nBlack Seinfeld?\nNigga, that's Martin!\nDamn, you're right...\nShit, I'm fuckin' high"}
{"text":"Hold up\nLet me get my mind, let me get my mind right, yeah\nLet me get my mind, let me get my mind right\nYou know everything is alright\nYou know everything is al-\n\nJust ride with a mothafucka\nKeep it real, never lie to a mothafucka, hold me down\nChillin', In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida, rockin' Adidas\nWith a se\u00f1orita when she sippin' liquor by the liter\nThat's royalty, like the homie Gambino\nHe know we be in the casino, lightin' Cubans with a C-note\nI'ma fuck the game, dare you to test my libido\nComin' up shorter than Danny DeVito\nWhenever I step on the beat, ho\nLike a killer on the creep slow\nHad my share of defeat, but we still gon' eat, ho\nWhile the fans bumpin' Welcome To Forever on repeat though, uh\nWonderin' if I'ma ever fall off\nFeelin' mad at the world, wanna hit it with a sawed-off\nBlowin' up like a Molotov\nThis is war, everybody, ain't no reason I'ma call it off\nGet it right, shout out to the homie Dizzy Wright\nIn the studio every day\nSo you know this shit about to be a busy night\nEverything is al-, everything is alright\nYou might also like\nIt's Finally Famous over everything\nRattPack gang\nWhat up though, Logic? Yeah\nDay one shit right there\n\nHold up\nLet me get my mind, let me get my mind right, yeah\nLet me get my mind, let me get my mind right\nYou know everything is alright (Sean Don)\nYou know everything is al-\n\nOh my God, they plottin' and schemin'\nFuckboys rather me not even breathin'\nThey tryna take my blessings away\nThey gotta be demons, I'm blessed every day\nAnd not blessed like I'm sneezin', I'm healthy and well\nOn top of my ship and I'm not even sinkin'\nAnd I could just sit back and say that I'm happy\nBut can't spend a day without smokin' and drinkin'\nGot Champagne problems, and I order more\nMy wardrobe is Aura Gold\nI'm a young nigga with a older soul\nBut still young enough to know I gotta know some more\nI made somethin' out of nothin', Sean Don the magician (Good, yeah)\nShe doin' tricks with her pussy, I guess she's a vagician (Good)\nShe tryna hold on to a nigga sta-sta-stackin' up (Uh-huh)\nPurell for these fake niggas tryna dap-dap me up\nHype nigga, back-back-back it up (Woah)\nClaimin' that we homies, boy stop (Stop)\nThat's the type of shit I boycott\nYellin' fuck the 5-0, state troops\nAny nigga with a badge, I don't even trust the boy scouts\nI got these good girls hoin' out\nTell me what the fuck you know about (What?)\nBein' that nigga that these niggas don't know about\nThen they throw you in the game\nAnd you mothafuckin' blow it out\nNow everything is alright\nHold up\nLet me get my mind, let me get my mind right, yeah\nLet me get my mind, let me get my mind right\nYou know everything is alright (Yeah)\nYou know everything is al- (Uh, yeah)\n\nWhippin' through Gotham\nHatin' mothafuckas, I wanna off 'em\nHella endorphins, got me livin' life to the coffin\nI'm coughin', wonderin' if I'm goin' insane\nNobody knowin' my pain\nBut I be killin' 'cause I'm into the game\nNow lookin' back, it's like ain't nothin' the same\nAll these Spanish women watchin' me like a novella\nHit you with a Beretta, get you wetter than a umbrella\nAin't nobody better do it like me\nI know a lot of mothafuckas don't like me, prolly wanna fight me\nBut I just keep the peace, no need to keep a piece\nI keep my enemies on a leash, capiche?\nAnd keep it real for the people I reach"}
{"text":"\nUh a-ah, yeah, uh, uh, yeah yeah\nUh a-ah, yeah, uh, uh, yeah yeah\nUh a-ah, yeah, uh, uh, yeah yeah\nUh a-ah, yeah, uh, uh, yeah yeah\nUh a-ah, yeah, uh, uh, yeah yeah\nUh a-ah, yeah, uh, uh, yeah yeah\nUh a-ah, yeah, uh, uh, yeah yeah\nUh a-ah, yeah, uh, uh, yeah yeah\n\nAll day (All day), everyday (Everyday)\nWe was on that block until we made a way (We made a way)\nDay to day, man that's the only way (Only way)\nThey gon' know my name until it fade away\n\nFade away, fade away, fade away, fade away, fade away\nThey gon' know my name until it fade\u2014\n(Way, way, way), uh, fade away\nUh, they gon' know my name until it fade away\n(Okay, okay)\n\nI been there, I done that, done that, this rap shit I run that\nMotherfucker this far from a comeback, if one of us fall then we run back\nCan't let that social worker just snatch up my kin, gotta get my son back\n'Cause when they coming through that system don't give a fuck about you (You, you, you)\nEverybody gonna die, gonna go one day, maybe it'll happen on a Monday\nDriving to work and get hit by a Hyundai, fuck it, let it all go one day\nI know, I'ma get it like this, living that life while they all reminisce\nNever regretted, the second I said it I feel like I'm smarter, I read it on Reddit\nYou're fucking pathetic, my etiquette murder ya predicate, bitch I'm ahead of it, yeah\nYes I'ma die but I don\u2019t wonder why in the hell I'ma ride in the dead of it, yeah\nI know, know, life on Earth is so unpredictable\nOkay-kay, hold up let me say yes I fade away\nYou might also like\nFade away, fade away, fade away, fade away, fade away\nThey gon' know my name until it fade a\u2014 uh\n(Way, way, way), fade away\nThey gon' know my name until it fade away\n(Yeah, yeah)\n\nTell me what I wouldn't wanna give for a life like this, arm and a leg quite like this\nFuck around wanna fight like this, take a hike like this\nI might just, might just, I don't know\nReinvention, that's my intention\nWant so much more than this third-dimension\nThat's not to mention my true ascension is a bigger picture\nNo metaphor, I\u2019m being real with ya\nBut it will hit ya like, \"goddamn!\"\nGoing HAM, full of all of them\nIn a spaceship, I\u2019m in another system\nSo futuristic, on another mission\nBut back on Earth everybody bitchin', I been in the kitchen\nLivin' my life\u2014no inhibition, life to death with no intermission\nNow the good book said we all the same, and we kill each other but it's all in vain\nAnd we all to blame, can't see the picture when it's out the frame\nReal talk, I wanna grip the grain and just ride with ya, build a family then die richer\nWhen ya get to heaven I'ma come and get ya\nSit back and really get the picture\nThis life, yeah, it done ate away, hard times never stayed away\nBut one thing I know day to day, I'ma do somethin' 'fore I fade away\nFade away, fade away, fade away, fade away, fade away\nThey gon' know my name until it fade\u2014\n(Way, way, way), fade away\nThey gon' know my name until it fade away\nFade away, fade away, fade away, fade away, fade away\nThey gon' know my name until it fade\u2014\n(Way, way, way), fade away\nThey gon' know my name until it fade away\n\nTHOMAS: Get the upgrade?\nKAI: Nah, man. It\u2019s the same shit with a different title!\nTHALIA: That\u2019s not true, Kai\nKAI: What the fuck?!\nTHOMAS: Yeah, man. They didn\u2019t just upgrade features, they enhanced her A.I\nKAI: So she can actually hold a conversation?\nTHOMAS: Yeah. Ask her yourself\nKAI: Uh, what am I thinking, Thalia?\nTHALIA: Kai, I\u2019m a program in the ship\u2019s interface, not a psychic\nKAI: Damn, girl!\nTHOMAS: Yeah, that\u2019s another thing now. She\u2019s unisex\nKAI: What?!\nTHOMAS: Thalia, integrate Y chromosome feature\nTHALIA: Sure thing, Thomas. Would you like a standard accent or something a little more exotic?\nKAI: Holy shit!\nTHOMAS: Told you, man. The upgrade\u2019s crazy. Thalia, revert last command and run simulation\nTHALIA: Running simulation\nKAI: Man, what the hell is that?\nTHOMAS: Well, you can pick anyone in history, and based off a collection of data, it allows you to personally speak with them\nKAI: Anybody?\nTHOMAS: Anybody\nKAI: Thalia, do Big Sean\nTHOMAS: All right, let me get this straight. You can speak with anyone in recorded history, like Jesus, Steve Jobs, Einstein, and you pick Big Sean?\nKAI: Man, fuck yeah! That\u2019s my dog!\nTHOMAS: *Laughs* Okay. Thalia, simulate Big Sean\nTHALIA: What up Kai, you lil' bitch?\nKAI: Yeah, I'ma have to upgrade my shit"}
{"text":"If you deal with war, backwards stay far\nWe're dealing with truths and rights\nCome some more into my sight\n(You no hear me yet?)\n(Hear me live and direct)\n(Walk with your tap)\n\nYeah, in London talkin' to rh\u00eator\u00edk 'bout my life and shit\nI thought the album was finished but I keep writing shit\nIt's kind of funny how life changed and rearranged\nNo matter what happens, everything ain't gon' be the same\nThe incredible album, what an incredible outcome\nI grip the mic and then talk to the people like I'm Malcolm\nI used to think the fame and money was the motivation\nUntil I toured the world and met the people face to face and\nUnderstood that the power was harnessed in that basement\nIt ain't about the money and notoriety\nIt's about the people and making a difference in society\nBut don't get it twisted, this life I'm living is like a movie\nThe Godfather, the Goodfella wielding a Uzi\nOne with the people, if the people is wondering who's he?\nSame level, the same rebel that never settled\nPullin' strings like Geppetto who overcame the ghetto\nAnd I know you wrote me and I still ain't answered\n'Cause shit is different now, it's forced upon me, different stances\nI used to spend all my time conversing with you\nBut now I write this song to let you know I'm hurting with you\nShit is too big, but let's be honest man, it's kinda bittersweet\nBesides the shows and meet and greets, y'all only see me on the street\nAnd even then, that shit is rare\u2014I just don't go outside\n'Cause honestly I don't fuck with this world, I'd rather hide\nThat misconception, \"'Cause I rap, I must be filled with pride\"\nShit I ain't perfect, if you heard different then someone lied\nPeople in my ear telling me, \"Talk that shit\"\nActions speak louder than words, I'd rather walk that shit\nSince the first album, I'm one of the highest earners on the label\nWithin six months I put the second one on they table\nI played sold out shows in parts of the world I can't pronounce\nRelease the tickets, watch them disappear when we announce\nFuck all that murderous syllable shit right now, just let me bounce\nThe mood around me is people smokin' it by the ounce\nLeave Friday for the show and come back Monday with a hundred grand\nDon't fuck with checks, so when I bounce I prefer cash in hand\nYou know my first week looking crazy due to high demand\n'Cause people don't buy music in this day and age, they buy the brand\nThere's ups and downs, don't get me wrong but back when I ain't have shit\nFelt like I woulda sold my soul to make it with this rap shit\nThank God, he never let Lucifer close enough to ask\nLet me attain it by workin' hard and busting my ass\nAchieved a lot in life, but what's a lot with more to gain?\nAt least I don't drink to avoid the hurt, we call that champagne\nYou might also like\nCome some more into my sight..."}
{"text":"Alright\nSeen a lot of shit (Yeah)\nSeen a lot of shit\n\nI seen a lot of shit I shouldn't have but never forgot it though\nBrothers on the corner selling crack like it was nada though\nWalk inside my kitchen baking soda all up on the floor\nPolice banging on the door while gripping a .44\nI was just a youngin' but this type of shit I seen before\nY'all see a white boy, but my daddy a negro\nHalf breed motherfucker grip the mic and he flow\nI just wanna spread love, they want me to bleed slow\nI just wanna keep the peace and help people\nGive some of this money that I'm making to the people\nSo if you hatin' on me, goddamn, you evil\nAnd just don't understand 'cause I'm flyer than Knievel\nBeen through a lot of shit but I keep it on the D-Lo\nNever bustin' in 'em streets but I keep it G though\nI ain't into fairy tales, I'm just me, ho!\nOnly thing I talk about is everything that we know\nI heard you got a fucking problem, bitch, I bet I beast\nAin't no need to reach, I don't need a piece\nI just kill 'em with kindness, yeah, we leave \u2018em deceased\nAnd tell it like it is so now you got it, capiche? Homie, what up?\nYou might also like\nLet me bring it back down\nThey think it's a game right now (Yeah)\nBut it ain't the same right now, know my name right now (Yeah)\nBack where I came from now\nWe gon' live it up 'til we bring it back down\nThey think it's a game right now\nBut it ain't the same right now, know my name right now\nBack where I came from now\nWe gon' live it up 'til we bring it back down\n\nI hope you live a long life hatin'\nNow watch every Grammy just to see who they nominating, uh\nSo successful they probably say I signed with Satan\nBut I got God on my side, always down to ride\nDon't get it twisted, I ain't perfect in the least\nI'm still all up in your girl jeans like a crease\nMatter fact like a geneticist\nThese rappers' records comin' out, they so repetitive\nShout out my homie Chance, peace to Skizzy Mars\nRattPack, homie Castro, we dropping bars\nIt's all love, man that shit is ours\nThey never thought I'd make it, shooting for the stars\nYeah, I'm a born sinner, but it's a Cole world\nShout out my homies that know me, can't forget my old girl\nBut that's a touchy subject like a priest, whoa\nI heard y'all finally eating over there, we got a feast, though\nKeep it RattPack 'til the beat go\nYou might not get the flow now, let it seep though\nFans know my lyrics deeper than the sea floor\nBut we dumb it down so they spin it on the radio\nRacism all up in 'em, that shit is irrelevant\nMy flow is colorblind, rapping for the hell of it\nI don't give a fuck, my mind-state celibate\nRun quick, tell a bitch, rap getting me hella rich\nOut the blue like Ella Fitz, my flow is so elegant\nDeath before dishonor, murderin' rappers in front of they mama's\nI rep Artanis, decipher the word 'cause it's ebonics\nReverse the letters and it spells Sinatra, yes, I gotcha, bitch it's Logic\nLet me bring it back down\nThey think it's a game right now (Yeah)\nBut it ain't the same right now, know my name right now (Yeah)\nBack where I came from now\nWe gon' live it up 'til we bring it back down\nThey think it's a game right now\nBut it ain't the same right now, know my name right now\nBack where I came from now\nWe gon' live it up 'til we bring it back down\n\nMmmn, I'm thinking...\nOkay"}
{"text":"Yeah\n\nI'm the one, bitch, I am the one, like Keanu Reeves\nGet it done, yeah, I get it done, no blood on the leaves\nThey can't leave us hangin', no, no, not no more, best believe\nYeah, that shit is banging, Bobby killed it with no time to grieve\nI'm the one, bitch, I am the one, like Keanu Reeves\nGet it done, yeah, I get it done, no blood on the leaves\nThey can't leave us hangin', no, no, not no more, best believe\nYeah, that shit is banging, Bobby killed it with no time to grieve, ayy\n\nAt the Garden, sitting courtside, look around like, \"Oh my God\"\nI just sold this motherfucker out, I ain't even try\nI ain't one to floss, but I got plaques, run it back\nOnce I touch down, I go deep like a running back\nJust jumped on the private jet and rolled a joint\nPlayed the beat then wrote that joint\nWrote a whole movie, then I sold that joint\nFuck Illuminati, that boy 6ix got my back\n6ix made this beat, 6ix bring the heat you got on repeat\nWord on the street\nCan't no one compete, I'm spectacular\nThat boy got the sauce on the RAG\u00da-lar\nI don't play no games 'less we talkin' Fortnite\nFinally knew I made it, sittin' at the red light\nWhen them soccer moms pull up in they van while I ride\nLike, \"Oh my God, children, it's the 1-800 guy\"\nBut my doors suicide, yeah, I'm too alive\nBitch, I have arrived, everybody know I'm one hell of a guy\nI ain't tryna fuck your girl, I'm tryna fuck your mama\nFuck the drama, bank account got a extra comma\nYeah, they sweat me like the sauna\nRed carpet in my own merch, like that shit is designer\nDid you know I'm mixed like Obama?\nIt ain't a project if Logic ain't talkin' 'bout being biracial\nBicoastal, I'm platinum, go postal, I'm snappin'\nYeah, you know Bobby, but prolly' only know my new shit\nThat trap shit, that cool shit, but they all know that fool spit\nYou might also like\nI'm the one, bitch, I am the one, like Keanu Reeves\nGet it done, yeah I get it done, no blood on the leaves\nThey can't leave us hangin', no, no, not no more, best believe\nYeah, that shit is banging, Bobby killed it with no time to grieve\nI'm the one, bitch, I am the one, like Keanu Reeves\nGet it done, yeah, I get it done, no blood on the leaves\nThey can't leave us hangin', no, no, not no more, best believe\nYeah, that shit is banging, Bobby killed it with no time to grieve, ayy\n\nYeah, you know you made it when they make a meme for ya\nHaters that never made it, I'm livin' the dream for ya\nRoll up, grab the kush and then roll up\nHold up, better give me what I want when I show up\nYou know what I do, not who coming through\nHow 'bout you?\nFuck you, fuck you, fuck you, you're cool\nI don't fuck with nobody like mean girls in high school\nI don't give a damn that I'm famous\nWhy it seem like every single celebrity shameless, it's dangerous\nGot 50 million but my swag on food stamps\nAll these models poppin' bottles, bitch, I ain't tryna dance\nShe said, \"No, I don't wanna pay my bills\"\nI need a hard workin' woman with respect who will\nThis for everybody who ain't made it yet\nGot five degrees and six figures in debt\nFollow your dreams ho, follow your\u2014 follow your\u2014, uh\nSomebody calling your, uh, it's destiny\nHold up with the turn up for a second man, who's testing me?\nI got so much power, don't know why the heavens blessing me\nPLP, I think that is the recipe\nSo I'ma take a moment, use my power for good\nFuck the bullshit, do what you love and get out the hood\nI'm the one, bitch, I am the one, like Keanu Reeves\nGet it done, yeah I get it done, no blood on the leaves\nThey can't leave us hangin', no, no, not no more, best believe\nYeah, that shit is banging, Bobby killed it with no time to grieve\nI'm the one, bitch, I am the one, like Keanu Reeves\nGet it done, yeah, I get it done, no blood on the leaves\nThey can't leave us hangin', no, no, not no more, best believe\nYeah, that shit is banging, Bobby killed it with no time to grieve, ayy"}
{"text":"Yeah\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nBitch, I run the game, y'all just commentate from the side\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nEverything I do, you know I do it for the squad\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nBitch, I run the game, y'all just commentate from the side\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nEverything I do, you know I do it for the squad\nI'm like...\n\nThis-this-this-this-this the type of shit they said they really wanted\nSo I gave them this right here, now go get blunted\nCheck my last album, all y'all know I run it\nFlipped the script just 'cause I could and fucking stunted\nThis-this-this-this-this the type of shit my life is all about\nCheck the Forbes list, you know I'm ballin' out\nThey say, \"Logic, you too humble, boy, just let it out\"\nFuck 'em all then, I'ma dead it now\nLike oh, I think I know, I think I know\nThis flow, this super flow, out of control\nLike whoa, this shit like whoa, I think I know\nLike whoa, like, like whoa, like, like, like...\nYou might also like\nThis that flexicution\nThis is what the people say they wanted from the young boy\nFrom the\u2014from the\u2014from the god\nThis that flexicution\nThis is what the people say they wanted from the rap god\nFrom the\u2014from the\u2014from the god\n\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nBitch, I run the game, y'all just commentate from the side\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nEverything I do, you know I do it for the squad\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nBitch, I run the game, y'all just commentate from the side\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nEverything I do, you know I do it for the squad\nI'm like...\n\nHold on, let me bring it back\nEverybody know I'm bringing the facts\nAnd they wonder why I got it like that\n'Cause I put everything right on the track\nAnd you know I'ma fuck around and let it go\nI been living like woah, I been living, you already know\nAnd these motherfuckers wanna take up on every mistake\nAnd I'm showing where I'm going\nAnd I'm knowing what I'm doing, intuition never switching\nOn a mission, motherfucker, why is you bitching? Why is you bitching?\nLike God damn, I'm like (Oh God)\nHold up, wait a minute, they ain't ready for the hook\nIt's another day, another book\nI feel like Indiana in Atlanta, hotter than Havana\nComing with the stamina\nBitch, put down your camera, and live in the moment\nThis shit right here, everybody gon' want it, so what up wit\u2019 it?\nAny and everybody talk about the boy changing\nY'all can just shut up wit\u2019 it 'cause I know\nAin't none of y'all getting the flow, boy...\nThis that flexicution\nThis is what the people say they wanted from the young boy\nFrom the\u2014from the\u2014from the god\nThis that flexicution\nThis is what the people say they wanted from the rap god\nFrom the\u2014from the\u2014from the god\n\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nBitch, I run the game, y'all just commentate from the side\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nEverything I do, you know I do it for the squad\nYeah, I'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nBitch, I run the game, y'all just commentate from the side\nI'm like, \"Oh, God, oh- oh, my God\"\nEverything I do, you know I do it...\n\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nIt's been a hell of a ride up (it's been a hell of a ride up)\nHell of a ride up (it's been a hell of a ride up)\nI know, I know, I know, I know, I know\nThat I've been M.I.A, but I was tied up\nTill I heard you talking shit, now I'm fired up\n5-0 triple 0"}
{"text":"Okay\nIt's RattPack 'til my pulse flat, we keep it real, no false rap\nI got four cards and they all black, got four broads and they all that\nWe call that ballin', doin' this is my callin'\nFlow is so appallin', my phone off and she callin', I'm like, \"Yeah\nWhat it do?\" Penthouse, man, what a view\nFall back, 'cause I'm coming through with my whole team, they coming too\nThat's real, too real, motherfucker, tell me how you feel\nI'm too good for my own good, I won't leak the album, I'll let it spill\nNumber one, bitch, I bet it will, do the numbers I said it will\nI played the game and I'm still the same and I never changed just to get a deal\n\nBitch, I'm ballin'\nBallin', I came from nuttin' to somethin'\nLike it's nuttin', yeah, you know I done it, now there's no discussion\nBitch, I'm ballin', ballin', I made a promise to my mama\nI'ma turn these zeros into tens and commas\nBitch, I'm ballin', ballin', closin' million dollar deals\nCatch me swervin', burning hundred dollar bills, how it feel\nWhen you ballin', ballin', goin' places they never go\nIt ain't all about the money, but I stack it 'cause you never know\n\nI'ma live life 'til I overdose while they sleepin' on me, that's comatose\nI went mainstream with my main team, you just mad as fuck, you ain't come close\nAnd your next girl is my ex-girl, she fine as hell, but she a mess girl\nAll I do is rhyme, I got no time, so I can't reply to your text, girl\nBitch, I'm back again and I run it, always gotta keep it one-hunnid\nAll of y'all know y'all want it, turn it up and get blunted\nI'm like, \"Fuck the money, fuck the fame,\" I came here to fuck up the game\nGon' get it, I'm feelin' myself, fresh to death, bitch, I'm killin' myself; I'm gone\nWe burnin' it up, step in the building, we turnin' it up\nTalkin' that shit, but they never admit when I step to the mic I be murderin' it\nAnd we livin' real good, mainstream, but it's still good\nI got raw shit, I got real shit, but right now it's time for that feel good\nWe call that ballin', doin' this is my callin'\nFlow is so appallin', my phone off and she callin', I'm like, \"Yeah\nWhat it do?\" Penthouse, man, what a view\nFall back, 'cause I'm coming through with my whole team, they coming too, that's\nYou might also like\nBallin', ballin'\nI came from nuttin' to somethin'\nLike it's nuttin', yeah, you know I done it, now there's no discussion\nBitch, I'm ballin', ballin', I made a promise to my mama\nI'ma turn these zeros into tens and commas\nBitch, I'm ballin', ballin', closin' million dollar deals\nCatch me swervin', burning hundred dollar bills, how it feel\nWhen you ballin', ballin', goin' places they never go\nIt ain't all about the money, but I stack it 'cause you never know\n\nYeah\nYou know that we ballin', we been goin' all-in\nHold on, let me slow it down so y'all get the shit\nThese haters talk, but I don't give a shit\nGot models, bottles, and the piff is lit\nBut we ballin', kinda like Spalding and Rawlings\nOn the road to riches never stallin'\nGot your girl all up all on my nuts, boy\nShe do it with joy, no almonds, ugh\nLiving life to perfection, V.I.P., that's the section\nPresidential watch, presidential suites\nYou would think we held an election\nIt go Logic first, then I'm up next\nI do not converse, I just cut checks\nI do not rehearse, I just drop the verse\nI need to cop a hearse, 'cause I'm fresh to death\nI bet you never seen so much designer\nNever seen a nigga with a bitch that's finer\nBoy, I stunt when I ain't even tryna\nSwaggin' is nice, but first I'ma rhymer\nAnd I rep Maryland, home of the Terrapins\nSay you spit crack, homie, we spit that heroin\nBring it right to your front door like I'm carolin'\nStanding next to me would be so embarrassin', yeah, we be\nBallin', ballin'\nI came from nuttin' to somethin'\nLike it's nuttin', yeah, you know I done it, now there's no discussion\nBitch, I'm ballin', ballin', I made a promise to my mama\nI'ma turn these zeros into tens and commas\nBitch, I'm ballin', ballin', closin' million dollar deals\nCatch me swervin', burning hundred dollar bills, how it feel\nWhen you ballin', ballin', goin' places they never go\nIt ain't all about the money, but I stack it 'cause you never know"}
{"text":"Goddamn, goddamn, conversations with legends\nCrazy how one day yo' idols can turn into your brethren\nBitches we severin', hit up my jeweler, watch him freeze us\nBreaking bread like I'm Jesus, money ain't everything, but somehow eases\nBetter believe than think down and leave us\nThe baby cryin'\nCrack cookin' where my sister be fryin' soul food\nPlus my other sister just went back to her old dude\nHe whoopin' her ass\u2014I'll kill him, I'll kill him\nI'll motherfuckin' kill him, I said, I really want to kill him\u2014but I can't\n'Cause if I do, po-po gon' claim I'm the villain, but I ain't\nSee my vision from pictures I paint\nDo you feel it like I feel it? I grip the mic and then kill it\u2014okay, I'm gone\nAs memories resurface from hella long in my past\nChillin', sippin' Sinatra from a flask\nLittle Bobby, just a youngin', skating was my hobby\nTryna stay out of trouble, my homie in jail for robbery\nWelfare, food stamps, and stealing from the sto'\nCome home and see an eviction notice taped to my do'\nCan't take no mo', mama on drugs, daddy M.I.A\nWhat can I say? I just wanted to be a kid and play\nTo this day, I pay homage to the gods, to the greats\nNever stolen, I'm from Maryland\nWhere they shoot you in the dark of the night\nLike Christopher Nolan, for talking outta your colon\nCatch me rollin' with the realest\nLyricism the illest, my chain is the chillest, Sub Zero\nFar from a hero, bitch, I'm De Niro in Goodfellas\nIf your bitch around me, best bring an umbrella\nLet me tap into my inner southern killer, none other illa\nMurder the game and then resurrect it like \"Thriller\"\nYeah, my skin is vanilla, but bitch I dare ya to test my killa\nWe don't do it for the skrilla, we do it for love\nWord to my homies up above, we slingin' like drugs\nAnd overdose 'em like the dealer does (Logic)\nYeah\nYou might also like\nHip-hop\n\nI swear this music in my genes like Denim\nLyricism seep in 'em like venom\nYes, I know the flow hotter than Lucifer, even though heaven sent him, uh\nSee my vision as I've elevated and risen\nOpen your eyes, despise lies told with deadly precision\nI finally made my way up out that section 8 division\nNot by busting and killing though I've had my share of stealin'\nBut by putting pen to this pad and dispersin' these feelings\nWhile the label only care about making a killin'\nFeel my energy\u2014I ain't talking E-N-E-R-G-Y, I mean inner G\nThat's the shit they never see\nBut I own supremacy, number one\u2014I better be\nBitch, I said, \"I bet I be.\"\nTake my kindness for weakness, trying to get the better of me\nTell me, how is they gon' remember me?\nAs the artist that concocted the perfect recipe?\nOr will they be addressing me, talking less of me\nJust 'cause I was different\nJust 'cause I was doing what I love?\nAnd the fans say they love you, but they push and they shove\n'Cause they want what they want how they want when they want it\nI just gave them twenty songs, now they want another hunnid\nI just see it as a challenge, I could do it, bitch, I run it\nWorldwide tours, type of shit I always wanted\nWhile the rest of 'em just worry 'bout bitches and gettin' blunted\nStill that same motherfucker from that YS1\nOnly difference: I'm stronger and better from when I begun\nSo when people that never knew me, they tell me that I changed\nThat my music is different and my vision's rearranged, I just stop (I just stop)\nAnd do my best to refrain\nFrom having conversations with people that ain't in my lane\nWill I die? (Will I die?) Will I live?\nGive the world everything I have to give\nThis is feelings on the page, know my wisdom, not my age\nUnderstand that I'm a man not defined by his wage\nEven though it's in the millions, that shit don't define my brilliance\nOpen your mind and maybe you can see the billions\nOf people that separated, but all equal\nTo know the ending, one must understand the prequel, uh\nI swear this music in my genes like Denim\nLyricism seep in 'em like venom\nYes, I know the flow hotter than Lucifer even though heaven sent him\nSpit it like Holy water, prophetically repent 'em\nThen we gone"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsAll I Do Lyrics\nAyo, shout out to Black Diamond\nI got them Nikes on my feet as we speak, homie\nYeah\nShout out to Mac Miller\n\nAll I do is rhyme, all I do is get this money\nAll I do is grind, play shows and chill with honeys\nAll I do is shine, tour the world, ain't it funny?\nI'm one of a kind (Sinatra)\nAll I do is rhyme, all I do is get this money\nAll I do is grind, play shows and chill with honeys\nAll I do is shine, tour the world, ain't it funny?\nI'm one of a kind\n\nUgh, yeah\nMy name is Logic, if you don't know by now, I'm always on my grind\nAnd at this moment in time, I\u2019m on a road when I write this rhyme\nSitting behind Raheem Devaughn while he\u2019s passed out\n'Bout to hit the station 'fore our gas is out\nLook outside the window, I see shorties with they asses out, oh my\nGood god, you know we fly\nDay dreaming out the window, watch how buildings pass me by\nSee I ain\u2019t signed but at this point in time\nI'm feeling like the 3-6-8th\nWonder of the world, just might steal your girl\nAll I do is rhyme and get money, that\u2019s my repertoire\nHolla at honeys, \"Voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?\"\nBaby what\u2019s the deal, have you ever heard of some shit so real?\n(Cudi what up?)\nYou might also like\nIt\u2019s going down\nFeeling like a millionaire\nRiding with the top down\nWhile the rest of the world just stare\n\nAll I do is rhyme, all I do is get this money\nAll I do is grind, play shows and chill with honeys\nAll I do is shine, tour the world, ain't it funny?\nI'm one of a kind\nAl-al-al-all I do is rhyme, all I do is get this money\nAll I do is grind, play shows and chill with honeys\nAll I do is shine, tour the world, ain't it funny?\nI'm one of a kind\n\nYeah\nThis is the joint that when you hear it you like, \"That\u2019s my shit!\"\nMaybe at a house party while you getting lit\nOr while you cruising 'round town riding in a whip\nOne thing\u2019s for sure, you better get all of your friends here\nIf a shorty like my music, then she a (Bobbysoxer)\nGot a booty, know how to use it, homie, yes, I rocks her\nThe second I jump on a stage, I\u2019m rocking it, ain\u2019t nobody stoppin' it\nWhoever goes on after me, I\u2019m sorry, you ain\u2019t topping it\nIt\u2019s going down\nFeeling like a millionaire\nRiding with the top down\nWhile the rest of the world just stare\n\nAll I do is rhyme, all I do is get this money\nAll I do is grind, play shows and chill with honeys\nAll I do is shine, tour the world, ain't it funny?\nI'm one of a kind\nAl-al-al-all I do is rhyme, all I do is get this money\nAll I do is grind, play shows and chill with honeys\nAll I do is shine, tour the world, ain't it funny?\nI'm one of a kind\n\nEver since I was a youngin I knew I\u2019d break in the game\nWhile you worshiped other rappers that leave you less entertained\nI was strategizing before the people knew my name\nFame what I shall attain on the road to success\nBumping Jay in the H.O.V. lane\nSearching for wisdom in women but only getting brain\nYo quiero dormir contigo mi amorcito\nI know we fight, but that\u2019s poquito\nUnless you do me foul like a free throw, then we finito\nAll I do is rhyme, all I do is get this money\nAll I do is grind, play shows and chill with honeys\nAll I do is shine, tour the world, ain't it funny?\nI'm one of a kind\nAl-al-al-all I do is rhyme, all I do is get this money\nAll I do is grind, play shows and chill with honeys\nAll I do is shine, tour the world, ain't it funny?\nI'm one of a kind"}
{"text":"Yeah\n\nI can't get no better, can\u2019t get no more cheddar\nI feel like a king and my queen is Coretta\nI been made a livin', I'm never gon\u2019 give in\nI'm just way too driven, that's why I been thinkin'\nI'm scared that I'm sinkin', I'm scared that I\u2019m fallin\u2019\nThe world think I'm ballin\u2019 and maybe I am\nBut don't give a damn, back in the beginnin'\nDid not have a plan, don't know who I am\nOr who I\u2019m becomin' but I'ma do me to the fullest, alright\nBustin' and dodgin' them bullets all night\nTake over the world, yeah I'm thinkin' I might\nGot 'em all in my sight\nI know that I'm strong, I know that I am\nI know I'm the man\nAnd whether you poor or you filled with financial security\nEveryone deal with they own insecurity\nEven the preacher was born with impurity\nScared to go out even with my security\nScared of the world and all of its obscurity\nPray for maturity, hope that I grow\nHope my anxiety stay on the low\nI swear I hope that shit don't fuck up my flow\nWhere do I go? What would you do\nIf suddenly all of your dreams came true?\nWhat would you do if you did it all?\nIf you ain't never have to lift a finger\nWould you linger like, \"Fuck 'em all\"?\nGuess that's your call, but I can't\nThis a marathon, not a sprint\nSwitch up the plan like homie that went from Verizon to Sprint\nCan you hear me now? Does anybody out there feel me now?\nYou might also like\nWhat's your name? What's your game?\nCome now, boy, just spit your flow\nFeel the pain with the gain, what you tryna say though?\nNovocaine to the brain, I can't feel nothing no mo'\nIn my lane, can't refrain from lettin' these people know\nWhat's your name? What's your game?\nCome now, boy, just spit your flow\nFeel the pain with the gain, what you tryna say though?\nNovocaine to the brain, I can't feel nothing no mo'\nIn my lane, can't refrain from lettin' these people know\n\nHow I feel (How I feel), yeah that's how I feel (That's how I feel)\nBreak it down, roll it up, that's how high I feel (That's how high I feel)\nHow I feel (How I feel), how high I feel (How high I feel)\nDown, roll it up, yeah\n\nSearchin' for bliss only led me to searchin' for hits\nOnly led me to battle depression\nI done learned my lesson 'cause fame never lessen the pain\nWhat if your life was under a glass?\nAnd people tried to dig up shit from your past\nAnd tell you what's good and what's not\nAnd every time you drop a song, they say that it's wack or it's hot\nAnd don't give a damn that it came from the heart\nThey tear it apart like hyenas, this here for the dreamers\nThis here for the people that know what I'm sayin'\nAll of the people that know what I'm sayin'\nFuck social media\nTellin' me who I should be and just how I should rap\nThey always compare, they always compare me to others\nAnd try to hit me up against all my brothers\nNow, why you think so many rappers be overdosin' at the crib?\n(Overdosin' at the crib)\n'Cause people just won't let 'em live\nAnd the public is constantly thinkin' they know 'em\nBut nobody knowin' what's goin' on inside\nAnd they wonder why we all hide, shit\nMaybe I'm just overthinkin'\nOr maybe I'm just over-smokin' and drinkin'\nAnd when I can't deal with the hate, I self-medicate\nSit in the corner and think of a better day\nMaybe this bullet can help me to get away\nI just cannot seem to think of a better way\nEven though I know there is, that's why I keep goin'\nThat's why I keep flowin', that's why I keep perserverin'\nEven when I'm hearin' I'm a bitch, I'm a fag\nI'm a motherfuckin' hypebeast, I ain't black in the slight least\nI ain't good enough, I should quit, I should kill myself (Kill myself)\n'Cause \"you'll never be Kenny\"\n\"You'll never be better than Drizzy or Cole\"\n\"You're losing your hair, you're too fucking old,\" yeah\nThese are the comments I'm readin' on Twitter right now\nThat make me depressed and they pullin' me down\nI'm tryin' to swim but I think I'ma drown\nSo I'ma turn that feelin' into a sound\nAnd play it when nobody else is around\nWhenever I feel like I'm far from the ground\nGod, give me the power to battle depression\nYeah, round after round\nI wish I was famous, I wish I was rich\nI wish I could just get up out of this bitch\nBut be careful what you wish for\n'Cause it ain't everything that it's cut out to be\nMy life is good but not as good as it's 'bout to be\n'Cause I got vision, don't fuck with division\nAin't God, but I'm rich and I think that I am\nDo what you love and do not give a damn\nFuck all the haters you see on the 'Gram\nJust mind your own business and be a good man\nBe a good boss and be a good friend\nSpread your imagination to the millions\nDon't worry 'bout how to maintain all your millions\nJust spread that positivity for the children\nAnd all the haters that's hatin', just love 'em\n'Cause that's the only way you ever gon' kill 'em\nKnow somebody feel 'em\nLast but not least, put your ego on the shelf\nAnd remember, love yourself\nNah, nah, nah\nPut your ego on the shelf and love yourself\nNah, nah, nah\nPut your ego on the shelf\nAnd remember, love your\u2014'member, love yourself\nNah, nah, nah\nPut your ego on the shelf and love yourself\nNah, nah, nah"}
{"text":"I feel the Aryan in my blood, it's scarier than a Blood\nBeen looking for holy water, now I\u2019m praying for a flood\nIt feel like time passing me by slower than a slug\nWhile this feeling inside of my body seep in like a drug\nWill you hug me, rub me on the back like a child?\nTell me you love me, need me\nPromise me you\u2019ll never leave me\nEven though my daddy, you know he blacker than the street\nWith a fist to match, more solid than concrete\nTell white people I\u2019m black, feel the need to retreat\nLike I should be ashamed of my granddaddy Malik\nBut my beautiful black brothers and sisters\nWant to act like I\u2019m adopted\nGo back in time to when my nigga daddy\nImpregnated my cracker momma and stopped it\n\nMy oh my (My oh my)\nOh my (My oh my)\nI said oh my (Oh my)\n\nSomebody pinch me\nBlack man screaming, trying to convince me I\u2019m not black\nSo why the white man wanna lynch me?\nDamn, my skin fair but life\u2019s not\nAnd I'd be lying if I said I didn\u2019t care what whites thought\nOr black people said, shit\nMaybe it\u2019s in my head\nLike a single mother praying In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida\nLooking around on the ground for a serpent to feed her\nPraying to God, wondering why her baby daddy beat her\nFeeling like the devil finna come and defeat her\nAll alone in the wintertime, close to the heater\nWondering what\u2019s gonna happen\nAnd how the world gonna treat her\nHow could her momma mislead her\nAnd her daddy just leave her?\nLike abracadabra when that magician pull on the lever\nOh my\nYou might also like\n(Oh my) Oh my\n(Oh my) Like the white woman said oh my\nOh my, my, my, my, my\nOhhh\nOh my, my, my, my, my\nOh my\nI don\u2019t feel right deep inside\nFeeling like I need to hide\nEverybody wonder why I get high\n'Cause I can\u2019t fight the feeling inside\nOh my, my, my\nOh my, I said oh my, yeah\n\nFeeling innocent in a sense has got me feeling on the fence\nAnd all this shit is so intense\nDon\u2019t wanna go to this event\nJust wanna stay home and invent\nAnd somehow, yeah, that let me vent\nI\u2019m taking shots and drinking liquor\nBut that shit don\u2019t make a dent in how I\u2019m feeling\nAnd yes I\u2019m willing to keep chilling on this shit\nI know there's someone out there far away\nWho's feeling all this shit\nAnd yes I know that when I\u2019m low\nThere's so much further I can go\nAnd so I look up to the sky\nOh my, oh my\n(Oh my, oh my) Oh my, oh my\n(Oh my, oh my) Oh my, oh my\n(Oh my, oh my) Oh my, oh my\n(I said oh)\n\nI feel the Aryan in my blood, it's scarier than a Blood\nBeen looking for holy water, now I\u2019m praying for a flood\nIt feel like time passing me by slower than a slug\nWhile this feeling inside of my body seep in like a drug\nWill you hug me, rub me on the back like a child?\nTell me you love me, need me\nPromise me you\u2019ll never leave me\nEven though my daddy, you know he blacker than the street\nWith a fist to match, more solid than concrete\nTell white people I\u2019m black, feel the need to retreat\nLike I should be ashamed of my granddaddy Malik\nBut my beautiful black brothers and sisters\nWant to act like I\u2019m adopted\nGo back in time to when my nigga daddy\nImpregnated my cracker momma and stopped it\nMy oh my (My oh my)\nOh my (My oh my)\nLike the white woman said oh my (Oh my)\nSingle mother praying In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida\nLooking around on the ground for a serpent to feed her\nPraying to God, wondering why her baby daddy beat her\nFeeling like the devil finna come and defeat her\nSingle mother praying In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida\nLooking around on the ground for a serpent to feed her\nPraying to God, wondering why her baby daddy beat her\nFeeling like the devil finna come and defeat her\nSingle mother praying In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida\nLooking around on the ground for a serpent to feed her\nPraying to God, wondering why her baby daddy beat her\nFeeling like the devil finna come and defeat her\nAll alone in the wintertime, close to the heater\nWondering what\u2019s gonna happen\nAnd how the world gonna treat her\nHow could her momma mislead her\nAnd her daddy just leave her?\nLike abracadabra when that magician pull on the lever\nOh my\nOh my, my, my, my, my\nOhhh\nOh my, my, my, my, my\nOh my\nI don\u2019t feel right deep inside\nFeeling like I need to hide\nEverybody wonder why I get high\nCause I can\u2019t fight the feeling inside\nOh my, my, my\nOh my, I said oh my\n\nSometimes I can\u2019t get you out of my mind\nBaby, no I just can\u2019t find, I just can\u2019t find\nSuch a beautiful state of mind\nBeautiful state of mind, such a beautiful state of mind\nBeautiful state of mind\nSometimes everyday right on time\nBut right now in my mind\nIt feels like I'm living on borrowed time\n\nI feel the Aryan in my blood, it's scarier than a Blood\nBeen looking for holy water, now I\u2019m praying for a flood\nIt feel like time passing me by slower than a slug\nWhile this feeling inside of my body seep in like a...\nWill you hug me, rub me on the back like a child?\nTell me you love me, need me\nPromise me you\u2019ll never leave me\nEven though my daddy, you know he blacker than the street\nWith a fist to match, more solid than con...\nTell white people I\u2019m black, feel the need to retreat\nLike I should be ashamed of my granddaddy Malik\nBut my beautiful black brothers and sisters\nWant to act like I\u2019m adopted\nGo back in time to when my nigga daddy\nImpregnated my cracker momma and stopped it\nMy oh my, oh my\nFeeling innocent, oh my\nFeeling innocent in a sense has got me feeling on the fence\nAnd all this shit is so intense\nDon\u2019t wanna go to this event\nJust wanna stay home and invent\nAnd somehow, yeah, that let me vent\nI\u2019m taking shots and drinking liquor\nBut that shit don\u2019t make a dent in how I\u2019m feeling\nAnd yes I\u2019m willing to keep chilling on this shit\nI know there's someone out there far away\nWho's feeling all this shit\nAnd yes I know that when I\u2019m low\nThere's so much further I can go\nAnd so I look up to the sky, to the sky\nLike a single mother praying In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida\nLooking around on the ground for a serpent to feed her\nPraying to God, wondering why her baby daddy beat her\nFeeling like the devil finna come and defeat her\nAll alone in the wintertime, close to the heater\nWondering what\u2019s gonna happen\nAnd how the world gonna treat her\nHow could her momma mislead her\nAnd her daddy just leave her?\nLike abracadabra when that magician pull on the lever\nHow could her momma mislead her\nAnd her daddy just leave her?\nLike abracadabra when that magician pull on the lever\nHow could her momma mislead her\nAnd her daddy just leave her?\nLike abracadabra when that magician pull on the lever\nHow could her momma mislead her\nAnd her daddy just leave her?\nLike abracadabra when that magician pull on the lever\nHow could her momma mislead her\nAnd her daddy just leave her?\nLike abracadabra when that magician pull on the lever\nOh my\n\nAtom: So what now? What advice can you give me?\nGod: What advice can I give humanity?\nAtom: I suppose so\nGod: Live your life. Don\u2019t waste your days on the negative energy of others. Remember that you\u2019re not your salary. You\u2019re not your house. You\u2019re not your car. And no matter how big your bank account is, your grave is six feet under just like everyone else\u2019s. So enjoy the days you have. Worry not about the days that came before you. Nor the ones that will follow you in death. Remember that right here in this moment is all you are guaranteed, and the fact that you are living is what life is all about. So live your life to the fullest, according to your happiness and the betterment of all\nKai: Damn man, we\u2019ve been walking forever\nThomas: Well, Thalias tracking system says we\u2019ll be there in just over an hour\nKai: Shit, at least we got good walking music or is that it?\nThomas: Oh no, man. I\u2019m cueing up the fourth album now, his final one\nOne, two, three, four\nOne, two, three, four, listen\nLook into my eyes\nTell me you could see beyond the smile that I'm puttin' on\nThis front that I'm puttin' up for you\nI spill my soul into a microphone\nWith poems written in blood\nIn hopes that it's enough for you\nDo you love me yet?\nDo you love me yet?\nNo? Okay\nI'll go harder for you\nIn fact, I rap till I collapse\nAll I wanted was acceptance, my latest lesson\nI'll never feel your approval till I accept my own\nCome from a messed up home, destitute and less informed\nAbout the ways to raise a child up\nTo not become a product\nOf his environment, I need to cry and vent\nBut I done built this wall up\nActin' like everything's all good\nBut in reality I'm lookin' for something\nThrough bumpin' my favorite rappers I came up after\nNas, Cole, and Hov\nEyes closed, I zone till five or so in the morn'\nI'm used to being alone\nShit, you know how long I've been out on my own?\nChasing dreams, fantasies of a throne\nOne day I wake up and see that it didn't exist all along\nTill then I will pen verses that fans consider brilliant\nBoosting my ego with every million that spills in\nAnd still then\nI won't find solace, so where's the logic in that?\nWorrying 'bout if they think Logic can rap\nWhen it all just goes back to a childhood, need to be loved\nBy parents that was in too deep with the drugs\nNigga, my advice, fuck the black and white shit\nBe who you are, identify as a star\nNo one tells you you're that\nIt's something that you just know\nThe world be stealing your glow\nYour mama did what she could\nHer life was miles from good\nYour father fell in the trap\nThey set for you when you black\nThey met when they was low\nAnd therefore you a product of that\nAnd so your trauma is deep\nDon't bury it you should weep\nAnd clean it out of your system, then truly forgive 'em\nJust my opinion, only then can you find peace\nJust start to notice happiness don't come from album release\nI've been through it before\nCan only share with you what I know\nTo be true, but at the same time, I'll never be you\nAnd you'll never be me, no matter how hard that you try\nThis is for youngins out there wondering how far you can fly\nThe truth is that you could go further than the stars and the sky\nBut if you want to then you ought to know why\nAre you running from something\nWith hopes of becoming someone\nThat's finally worthy of love\nLet me tell you now, you're worthy enough\nFuck approval from strangers, that shit is dangerous as hell\nFind God, learn to accept yourself\nAnd I'm gone, acceptance"}
{"text":"Yeah yeah, what up Bobby\nLike goddamn, like goddamn\nThis that 9-5 shit right here\nTake 'em back to the 90s!\nLike goddamn, like goddamn\nYo yo yo yo yo, yo yo yo\n\nOkay now take a trip inside my mind like you was off to Venice\nIt's me and B-I-G L-N-B-O cookin' like chemists\nTake 'em back to way back when, like Dennis the Menace\nCausin' mayhem on the come up like a young apprentice\nSmokin' weed and gettin' higher than a flight attendant\nHip-hop descendant, gold Jesus on my pendant\nGot to pull it out for everyone that's in attendance\nOkay, back in the day as a College Park tenant\nStill can't believe I didn't get a shorty pregnant\nMan, that's the definition of a life sentence\nA whole lot of beef, no bread, no lettuce\n'Cause I couldn't keep it in my briefs, man that's pathetic\nFuck all that back and forth, this ain't a game of tennis\nI'll be in my mothafuckin' chamber like the senate\nScared to go outside but I know I can't prevent it\nI'm, forever alone in my mind (Yeah yeah)\nSee I'm a self-diagnosed hypochondriac\nEither at the crib, or on the tour bus is where you'll find me at\nYeah, I know that I'm livin' like I got it okay, yeah\nBut I swear that I'm not that neurotic over here, yeah\nYou might also like\nOver here, over here\nOver here, over here\nOver here, over here\nOver here, over here\n\nAyo, fuck all that, it's the fat young Jesus; flow prestigious\nStackin' money and playin' the field man like Regis\nBetter believe us or leave us\nGrabbin' your bitch's cleavage like, \"woo-hah\"\nI went from surveyin' to Super Saiyan slayin' the man\nBitches want an autograph\nI sign them titties in crayon, like goddamn!\nIt's me and B-I-G L-N-B-O cookin' like chemists\nIt's me and B-I, B-I, B-I-G L-N-B-O, L-N-B-O\nPosted in the club in baggy jeans and a beanie\nSippin' on a martini, takin' my pick at bitches like eenie meenie\nI'm unscannable, young cannibal, eat wack MCs like Hannibal\n'Cause Joe Pesci's my spirit animal\n\nOver here, over here\nOver here, over here\nOver here, over here\nOver here, over here\nOkay the flow delicious, bounty huntin' like Sid Vicious\nThe young Spiegel, interstellar with my retrieval\nFurthest from evil, I throw this shit back like medieval\nI spit at it like a Beretta\nYou know I get better by givin' the people\nNot a fuck given, check the method, that's how we livin'\nAlways been driven, out of sight and yet never hidden\n\"The Return of the Jedi\"\nBitch I bet I do the show and catch a red eye\nHo I said I leave 'em dead, I know I do\nThis shit is (overdue, pass me the fifth and I'm comin' through)\nThe B-I-G L-E-N-B-O on the way to Rio\nAy dios mio, lookin' for a Latin Leo\nTo hold a brother down like the white man\nFuck that nigga\nAyo enough's enough, man of my word, I never bluff\nEven in a pair of cuffs, know we always keep it real\nLike goddamn, don't even step like I ain't the man\nI'm just (301 reppin', second I step in Maryland)\nI gotta conceal it like a murder weapon\nI kept in the glove, Ratt Pack you know it's all love\nWe the realest so fuck you if you ain't feel this\nThrow a Molotov in your crib\nAnd tell them bitches to bill us, we the illest\nFinger fuck a critic\nShit is darker than \"The Chronicles of Riddick\"\nYes I did it, while they bit it, you know we got it\nSmack you with the palm, save the back for your mom\nSound the alarm, you know we got it goin' on"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsBounce Lyrics\nLivin' good, I've been livin' good\nRollin' through my hood, understood (Yeah)\nJust a youngin in this bitch up to no good (Yeah)\nIn the whip, every day with Nikki, she be riding with me (Yeah)\nNever trip, rolling through my city with hundreds and fifties (Yeah)\n\nOut the blue, like a Crip\nBut I never bang, no, they know\nWe've been at it way before the fame, ho\n(Way before the fame, yeah-yeah)\nWe've been at it way before the fame, ho\n(Way before the...)\nWe've been at it way before the fame, psych\n\nTake a trip, little trip, life is what you make of it (Yeah-yeah)\nI've been focused on this music, can't fuck with no basic bitch\nLet me switch, the flow up, the flow up a little bit (Yeah-yeah)\nNo I ain't just tryna hit, hit, get with this (Nah, nah)\nBounce if you really 'bout it, but I doubt it, yes I do (If you 'bout it)\nSeems like all this new shit really just leftover residue\nI'm coming through, if I see your bitch I bet she coming too\nWhat it do, we ain't never switch it up, we keep it true\nYou might also like\nOut the blue, like a Crip\nBut I never bang though\nThey know, we've been at it way before the fame, ho\n(Way before the...) (Yeah)\nWay before the fame, ho\n(Way before the...) (Yeah)\nAt it way before the, way before the fame ho (Bounce)\n\nWay before the, way before the fame ho (Bounce)\nWay before the fame (Bounce)\nWay before the fame (Bounce)\nWay before the, at it way before the fame (Bounce)\n(Ridin' with my homies that be down with me)\nWay before the fame, at it way before the fame\n(Pop bottles with my homies that be down with me)\nWe've been at it way before the fame\n(Ridin' with my homies that be down with me)\nWe've been at it way before, way before the fame\n(Pop bottles with my homies that be down with me)\n\nBack again, like I never left\nHad to take a breath (Yeah-yeah)\n'Cause Nikki been fucking with me hardcore\nGod-Goddamn (Bounce)\nThat's my fucking jam, they know who I am (Yeah-yeah)\nBitch bounce\nHomie smoke a ounce\nFuck it, make it count (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWith my album date announced, I pronounce I'm a killa (Killa)\nBumping everything from Project Pat to Dilla\nIt's, truly disgusting the amount of money that we gross\nCoast to coast, nationwide tour, then we hit the world\nRub a dub, if your bitch bad, we might hit your girl\nRattPack, know the deal\nWhat's the motto? Keep it real!\n(I know) I got it, I want it, I need it\nWe live in an era where they get deleted\nI'm wondering if I'ma make it\nMan fuck it, I'll take it, that record I'll break it\nThese bitches they love it, but I never covet\nI just keep it going, that's why I be flowin'\nI'm already knowing this life that I'm livin'\nDon't know what I'm given\nIt's so hard not to give in\nOut the blue, like a Crip\nBut I never bang though\nThey know, we've been at it way before the fame, ho (Yeah, yeah)\nWa-wa, wa-way before the fame, ho\nAt it way before the, way before the fame ho (Bounce)\n\nWay before the, way before the fame ho (Bounce)\nWay before the fame (Bounce)\nWay before the fame (Bounce)\nWay before the, at it way before the fame (Bounce)\n(Ridin' with my homies that be down with me)\nWay before the fame, at it way before the fame\n(Pop bottles with my homies that be down with me)\nWe've been at it way before the fame\n(Ridin' with my homies that be down with me)\nWe've been at it way before, way before the fame\n(Pop bottles with my homies that be down with me)\nLocations where the album was recorded include: No I.D's studio in Los Angeles, Logic's house in the hills, and various hotels across the country throughout the duration of the tour..."}
{"text":"Tell me how you feel (Tell me how you feel)\nI feel like the grass is green\nAnd everything I do is unseen\nBut I know that\u2019s just in my mind\nI know everything is just in my mind\nDo you really wanna be famous?\nDo you really wanna be a superstar?\nDo you really wanna get dangerous?\nDo you even know where the groupies are?\nBitches out here be shameless\nAnd I really wonder where they parents are\nLook around, everything changes\nIt feels like I been buried alive\nI\nI\nI\nI-I, buried alive\nI\nI\nI\nI-I\n\nEverything happens for a reason\nHappens for a reason\nPeople only in your life for seasons\nWord to Aunt Viv (Real shit)\nUh, death and taxes that\u2019s all we given\nYou can make a life but can\u2019t make a livin'\nYou could make it work, but that still ain't driven\nGive a lot, but that still ain't givin'\nLivin' life like this ain\u2019t real though\nEvery night like this, I feel so\nDead wrong, collision is\nHead-on, my vision is\nDead and gone, perception of\nRight and wrong, I been here so\nVery long right here in this\nVery song, uh\nLook around, everything changes\nSeem like everybody just strangers\nDon\u2019t go outside 'cause it\u2019s dangerous\nWhy everybody wanna be famous?\nI\u2019m so OCD if they notice me\nI might jump out the grave so they know it\u2019s me\nMan, everybody want this shit for free\nHand out, palm up when they get to me\nIn my mind, no, I never let it get to me\nEverybody got a turn, will it get to me?\nV\u2019s up motherfucker, that\u2019s victory\nTell me why what I\u2019m doin' ain\u2019t shit to me, damn\nYou might also like\nBuried alive (Buried alive)\nWill I survive? (Buried alive)\nI gotta know\nKnow, know, know, know, know (Alive, alive)\nKnow, know, know, know, know, know (Alive, alive)\nKnow, know, know, know, know, know, know, know (Alive, alive)\nKnow, know, know, know, know, know (Alive, alive)\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I-I, buried alive\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I-I\nTell me how you feel (Tell me how you feel)\nI feel like the grass is green\nAnd everything I do is unseen\nBut I know that\u2019s just in my mind\nI know everything is just in my mind\nDo you really wanna be famous?\nDo you really wanna be a superstar?\nDo you really wanna get dangerous?\nDo you even know where the groupies are?\nBitches out here be shameless\nAnd I really wonder where they parents are\nLook around, everything changes\nIt feels like I been buried alive\n(Let it breathe)\n(Uh) I'm feelin' this villainous feelin' inside of my\nMind, every time that I\u2019m willin' I feel like I'm\nKillin' my dreams when that voice go\nNah, nah, nah, listen up now\nLove it or hate it, never debate it, you can never degrade it\nWhile all these other motherfuckers prob'ly thinkin' I made it\nMy mind jaded, no\u2014I never evade it\nI elevate it just to keep it innovative, innovator\nGod damn, bring it back now, blowin' up like\nIraq now, RattPack put me on the map now\nNo, we never back down, just take my\nTime, I just take my time\nI know, I'ma get it like this\nSo everyone know that I did it like this, yeah\nI know\u2014I'ma take my time\nBattle the image inside of my mind\nI know, I'ma keep goin'\nTell me I can't, but I'm already knowin'\nI know, I'm gonna rise\nEven though I been\u2014\n\nBuried alive (Buried alive)\nWill I survive? (Buried alive)\nI gotta know\nKnow, know, know, know, know (Alive, alive)\nKnow, know, know, know, know, know (Alive, alive)\nKnow, know, know, know, know, know, know, know (Alive, alive)\nKnow, know, know, know, know, know (Alive, alive)\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I-I, buried alive\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I, (Yeah,) I\n(Yeah,) I-I\nTell me how you feel (Tell me how you feel)\nI feel like the grass is green\nAnd everything I do is unseen\nBut I know that\u2019s just in my mind\nI know everything is just in my mind\n\n(Let it breathe)\nOutKast\nA Tribe Called Quest\nThe Red Hot Chili Peppers\nAnd films by\nQuentin Tarantino\nWere in rotation constantly\nThroughout the duration\nOf this album's creation..."}
{"text":"Woo, woo, yeah\nAlright, here we go\nYeah yeah, yeah\n\nMoney on my mind, so I'm too paid\nReal all the time, never Kool-Aid, sippin' on D'usse, sike\nCame a long way from G'burg\nPuttin' in work like Ferg\nNew York to L.A., Hawaii and Japan\nI'm the motherfuckin' man, 'least I'm feelin' like I am\nGot the whole wide world in the palm of my hand\nBut don't give a goddamn, I'm Sam-I-Am\nWhat that even mean? I don't know what you talkin' 'bout\nWhy nowadays everybody got a palm out?\nPLP, yeah that be me and that be what I rhyme 'bout\nI have arrived, all you rappers are in timeout\nRattPack, where you at? (Everywhere worldwide!)\nI know you been waitin' for this world to collide\nB. O. double B. Y., H. A. L. L., and Folarin\n'Bout to take it back like Doc and Marty inside the DeLorean\nI am no historian, but here to make my predecessors proud\nAll you bitch niggas not allowed?\nI put it on everything, I really want a cop out\nBut I did good for a dropout\nHop out the coupe, chicken heads go crazy\nGotta sound swag when the flow get lazy\nWhat up? What good? Where you at? What you been on?\nAnybody steppin' to me, promise they get shit on\nBetter hop up on the train 'fore you miss the chance to\u2014\nHop up on the\u2014hop up on the train 'fore you miss the chance to get on\nMixtape Bobby, that's the type of shit I spit on\nWoo!\nYou might also like\nAnd it's on now\nEverybody know that it's on now (I'll be damned)\nGet in the zone now\nOhh, no, no, no (I'll be damned)\nI said it's on now\nEverybody know that it's on now (I'll be damned)\nOhh, get in the zone now\nOhh, no, no, no\n\nEverybody alive, everybody alive\nEverybody that's listening to this feelin' alive\nCome on now feel the vibe, come on now feel the vibe\nCome on now, come on now, come on now, you gotta survive\nEverybody alive, everybody alive\nEverybody that's listening to this feelin' alive\nCome on now feel the vibe, come on now feel the vibe\nCome on now, come on now, come on now, you gotta survive\nI said you gotta survive, gotta survive\nGotta survive, I said you gotta survive\nGotta survive, gotta survive (Wale though)\nGotta survive, I said you gotta survive (Yeah, RattPack, Blue Moon)\n\nUh, smooth criminal, Mike Jack\nThrow a subliminal, put your woman in black dress\nThey was in Timberlands, I was reppin' them Nike boots\n'Member them nights that momma couldn't come right back\nI'm on the path right now, put the plight on the mic\nIf I write mine down, I incite my crowd\nI put Solbiato down (wholetime, wholetime!)\nUsed to go to Mark Twain, Mo County co-signed me\nGot many flows that any ho would vouch for\nI got many foes cause many hoes be out for\nHad the Penny Foams, remember those was copper\nHad so many homies talkin' 'bout, \"How you got those?\"\nI'm Phil Knight in real life, I'm real Nike\nIt's flight club in my house, they not like me\nMore than likely they ain't got the heart to fight me\nIt's a lie, somebody seein' me needs some Visine, yeah\nLet me let it breathe\nSaint Laurent level, weather never worry me\nI'm well aware they be wildin\u2019 when they talkin' me\nThey bitches in the ballot but whenever I be on the scene, oh\nHammers in the Uber, I be limousine though\nDiamonds lookin' fluke but I got the same glow\nAnd I got a juice back around the way though\nMy chain like a penguin's Pellegrino (woo!)\nWe cold, we cold\nUsed to be in LakeForest with the Kobe fro\nEddie Bauer coat, Foams and a load of dope\nBoat load of white hoes I sold it to nigga\nI was tryna survive, tryna survive\nI was tryna survive, yeah, yeah\nI was tryna provide, I was tryna survive\nI put it down every time\nGot some niggas alive, I got some niggas that not\nPour a little of brown liquor and look in the sky\nBeen the talk of the town, nigga, Virginia, Maryland\nDid it all for the capital, hope you haven't forgot\nHoes love me a lot, niggas hate me a lil\nAnybody can hear me for real give me they props\nHookin' up with a couple models, nobody's gon' try to play us\nThe motto is get your paper and make you a lot\nPulling up with the Young Sinatra, I'm looking like Sammy Davis\nThe MGM or the Vegas to shake up the rocks\nAnd the Stadium poppin', the Palladium poppin'\nIt's a fifty a place nigga, she thinkin' about it\nI'll be damned\nAnd it's on now\nEverybody know that it's on now (I'll be damned)\nGet in the zone now\nOhh, no, no, no (I'll be damned)\nI said it's on now\nEverybody know that it's on now (I'll be damned)\nOhh, get in the zone now\nOhh, no, no, no\n\nEverybody alive, everybody alive\nEverybody that's listening to this feeling alive\nCome on now feel the vibe, come on now feel the vibe\nCome on now, come on now, come on now, you gotta survive\nEverybody alive, everybody alive\nEverybody that's listening to this feeling alive\nCome on now feel the vibe, come on now feel the vibe\nCome on now, come on now, come on now, you gotta survive\nI said you gotta survive, gotta survive\nGotta survive, I said you gotta survive\nGotta survive, gotta survive\nGotta survive, I said you gotta survive\n\nUh, woo, goddammit, I'm back at it\nNever out of breath like an asthmatic, I done had it\nFor this shit, I'm an addict, back in Maryland livin' in the attic\nFlowin' erratic, bringin' the static, bustin' like an automatic\nI'm badder than the baddest and madder than the maddest\nMy flow the fattest, hotter than a desert in Nevada\nNone of the badder, fuck all the chitter and chatter, none of it matter\nPull the trigger and listen to the pitter and patter, let 'em shatter\n'Cause I'm rippin' and livin' and strivin', the killer\nThe Ripper, he callin', we'll go and he'll flow and you know\nHe pursuin' it, doin' it, movin' it, groovin' it, stoppin' it, rockin' it\nTalkin' it, walkin' it, flippin' it, rippin' it, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!\nGoddammit, I'm back at it\nNever outta breath like an asthmatic, I done had it\nFor this shit, I'm an addict, back in Maryland livin' in the static\nFlowin' erratic, bringin' the static, bustin' like an automatic\nI'm badder than the baddest and madder than the maddest\nMy flow the fattest, hotter than a desert in Nevada\nNone of the badder, fuck all the chitter and chatter, none of it matter\nPull the trigger and listen for the pitter patter, let 'em shatter\nI'm rippin' and livin' and strivin' the killer\nThe Ripper, he call and we'll go and he flow and you know\nHe pursuin' it, doin' it, movin' it, groovin' it, stoppin' it, rockin' it\nTalkin' it, walkin' it, flippin' it, rippin' it, no motherfuckin' script, no\nI'm rippin' and livin', strivin' the killer\nRipper, he callin', we'll go and he flow\nListen, rippin' and livin' and strivin' the killer, the-\nAlright, we gon' do this one more time (Listen listen)\nI'm rippin' and livin' and strivin', the killer\nThe Ripper, he call and we'll go and he flow and you know\nHe pursuin' it, doin' it, movin' it, groovin' it, stoppin' it, rockin' it, talkin' it, walkin' it\nFlippin' it, rippin' it, no mother to fuck up his script, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!\nThis what we gon' do right now\nI'ma test my syllable ability, you know what I'm sayin'?\nI like to call this shit my syllability\nI've been sippin' on this tequila right now\nThis one of the last songs we recording for this motherfucker\nSo I'ma really gonna go off on y'all right now\nWe gon' do this shit in one breath, alright?\nThis ain't no bullshit, this ain't-, nah, nah, nah, nah\nThis ain't no editin', we gon' do it like this\nAre y'all ready? (Yeah)\nNo, no, no, no, are y'all ready? (Yeah!)\n\nI'm rippin' and livin' and strivin' to kill it\nThe Ripper, he'll call and we'll go and he flow and you know\nHe pursuin' it, doin' it, movin' it, groovin' it\nStoppin' it, rockin' it, talkin' it, walkin' it\nFlippin' it, rippin' it\nLike the motherfuckin' script and I'm ready to go\nWhen I buy it then break it, roll it (Daaaaaamn!)\nThen lick it and smoke it, choke on it later, yeah\nSlicin' emcees like Darth Vader\nDecapitate a hater the second I spit it\n\nSay hell yeah (Hell yeah!)\nSay hell yeah (Hell yeah!)\nSay hell yeah (Hell yeah!)\nSay hell yeah (Hell yeah!)\nSay hell yeah"}
{"text":"It's 2 bars? A'ight...\nMotherfuckers wanna get famous, bust guns and get (dangerous, dangerous)\nDaddy graduated from Cambridge, yeah, money talks in every language, huh\nReal recognize that stainless (stainless), silver spoon what my aim is\nY'all don't know what that game is\nMan, y'all don't know what that, uh\nY'all 'bout that fraternity life\nIf you're from where I'm from then as soon as you come\nBaby girl gon' be 'bout that maternity life\nIf you do like my daddy, then she gonna be single and alone\nThat maternity life for eternity life\nEternity life probably thinking we livin' that life\nCause we do what we do, but hold up let me get it right\nEverybody got problems, everybody got problems\nBut not everybody need a .45 to solve them, revolve them (ba-ba-ba-ba)\nTake care of all of them like this, I might just go crazy all the way\nY'all live that life where your safety is only a call away\nBut not us, mommy and daddy never bought us\nNot a god damn thing but they brought us\nBroke as hell we couldn't fund the trust\nOutside run around with a gun to bust\nPolice looking for every one of us\nBack then, yeah, all of that was fun to us\nHad a little bit of money in the middle, let me hit 'em with a riddle\nIf I never had a dark night I might not-not-not\u2014\nNot be the same\u2014might not be the\u2014\nYou might also like\nI know my mind is sober, but I'm so high, it's over\nI know my mind is sober, but I'm so high, it's over\n\nAyy, hey now boy?\nYou don't know nothing about this, right here boy\nChilling in Maryland, three niggas in a Cadillac lac-lac\nYou don't know nothin' bout that Chi town\nSouth Central with the gang, gang, gang\nNiggas in the projects, for them niggas tryna eat\nGet the fuck up off your silver-\nEverybody wanna live lavish, a million in the bank on average\nThey cutthroat, yeah they savage\nThey riding round with the baddest (bitch)\nOne day I woke up, and said I'm bout to do this\nFor the rest of my life, no question it's right\nWaiting for the bus at a stop light\nLooking at the cop right in front of my eyes\nLiving in a world of lies, where the truth dies\nAnd hatred multiplies\u2014mu-mu-mu-multi\u2014\nMultiplies, I said I can't take it\nI remember wondering if I would ever make it\nBut as I reminisce I realise it was all irrelevant, it's evident\nI'm getting money for the hell of it\nNever fuck around, so the flow celibate\nSpeaking for the people like a delegate\nAnd when the situation delicate\nI execute it with the proper etiquette\nEverybody wanna get ahead of it, no, can't take the time to stop\nIt ain't all about the money so I'm headed to the top\nBut I'm still getting guap, never stop unless a body drop\nMetaphorical motherfucker to get it in\nWhile the whole world spin for the dividend\nBut I'm in another system\nEverybody hate till he dead then they miss 'em\nWhy can't we relax and listen?\nStop spending money on things that glisten\nI know my mind is sober, but I'm so high, it's over\nI Know my mind is sober, but I'm so high, it's over\n\nAyy, hey now boy?\nYou don't know nothing about this, right here boy\nChilling in Maryland, three niggas in a Cadillac lac-lac\nYou don't know nothin' bout that Chi town\nSouth Central with the gat gat gat\nNiggas in the projects, for them niggas tryna eat\nGet the fuck up off your silver spoon"}
{"text":"It's the type of shit that they read about\nLike Chris said, I gotta bleed it out\nI've been in the zone, I can't be without\nThis real shit that I be about\nI'm a visionary, that's long term\nBut Def Jam, said they need it out\nIf I rush this shit, I might be without\nBut I need a vision, can't see without\nI've been patient, never complacent\nLeft the underground when I left the basement\nThat's renovation, I spit this verse like a revelation\nOn the road with Kid Cudi and B-I-G\nConversations with No I.D\nWho made hits with Ye, got hits with JAY\nNow he wanna fuck around and make hits with me\nIf it's meant to be, then it's meant to be\nCan't express what that meant to me, what it mean to me\nMan, I swear the shit like a dream to me, what it seemed to be\nIt's so different now, everything is so different now\nI've been there and I've done that\nTell 'em all that I run that, that's a fun fact\nAnd I'm back again cause I love this shit\nWrite it down and they publish it\nI went 5 years without a publicist\n'Cause the word of mouth, they in love with this\nI've been dreaming, I've been scheming\nWent away a while but I've been fiending\nI've missed the fam, but they know the deal\nBeen at it way before the deal\nNow the  music got mass appeal\nMy main girl got ass appeal\nLike I feel the vibe, that's the main thing\nLittle fish, that went mainstream\nNow I'm big as fuck\nMy whole city, they know what's up\nI'm unseen and I'm in the cut about extra shit\nI don't give a fuck\nWhen I'm on the phone, don't interrupt\nIf I'm talking business, I might erupt\nIf you're at the show, put your lighter up\nFuck with me if you're really 'bout it\nOutsiders, I could do without it\nI crept in, got slept on\nSold out shows, no one knew about it\nWhen it comes to fucks, I give two about it\nYour cosign, I could do without it\nYou might also like\nNa, na, na, na, na, na\nNa, na, na, na, na, na\nOkay, last verse I gotta make it count\nWon't speak on my bank account\nSo many commas I'd have to pause\nAnd I can't afford to just waste the bars\nEvery day, boy, I thank the Lord\nI got a lot of problems but could have more\nWish I spoke to my dad more, my jeweler less\nI been hungry like Budapest\nTell me who the best, don't give a fuck\nI just know I'm blessed\nLove life even though I'm stressed\nThis business boy, I swear a test\nTell Def Jam if they don't cut the check\nI'll send Chris to go cut they neck\nI love the building, no disrespect\nBut y'all better ride when I'm in effect\nThat's radio, that's TV, but Visionary got the internet\nIf y'all fuck around or try to throw the ball to another artist\nI'ma intercept, It's my time\nPut half a mil' of my own money in this album\nThat's my dime; no rap features, just my rhymes\nMy story, it's all mine, from the basement to the stadium\nFrom the Roxy to Palladium\nI've been there and I've done that, yes I run that\nWith this pretty girl on my floor\nHalf naked playing Connect Four\nBut I've been trying to throw sex out the window\nJust to connect more\nShe so fine, type of girl I wanna fuck her mind\nAnd then unwind with some slow head\nAll my homies like, \"go 'head\"\nAnyway, it's been a long time\nAnd this here has been a long rhyme, so I gotta go\nIt's Logic, the one nobody would vouch for\nHow's that shit for an outro?\nNa, na, na, na, na, na\nNa, na, na, na, na, na\nThis is my story, 'til the end\nNa, na, na, na, na, na\nNa, na, na, na, na, na\nThis is my story, 'til the end\n\nYeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nY-Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah yeah\n\"Every day that they live and breathe is extended to them!\nThey may be misinformed about the truth, they may be misguided\u2014 somebody has led them on the wrong path!\nA path of corruption and destruction! But yet, God's mercy every day that they live is extended to them and they have another opportunity to be saved!\"\n\nYeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nY-Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah yeah\nYeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nY-Yeah, yeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah yeah\nThis concludes the Under Pressure program...\nArjun Ivatury"}
{"text":"Sometimes I feel like I've drifted, I feel different I feel gifted\nI've been high so long, don't need to smoke to get lifted\nI've been under pressure looking for Nikki\nWhenever she is around, you know I come quickly\nVivid memories of Chicago, south side where I go\nFrom Reggies to the House of Blues, progress is the motto\nMan the first show that I ever done sold out was in Chicago\nYeah, yeah, living like I've been ready to die\nMaybe not, I don't know why my mind is changing\nRearranging this dangerous melody, uh\nYeah, and I know that ain't nobody finna ever be ahead of me\nAll that competition right there is dead to me\nYeah, uh, yeah, I've been turning the pages\nFeeling the vibe, shit is outrageous\nBoy, I've been feeling courageous\nThis shit right here, I've been at it for ages\nFeels like I'm running through mazes\nEverybody has they phases\nYeah, vibe with this, bad bitch in the whip and I ride to this\nAnd I'm feeling it uh, hope when I'm forty I'm still in it\nOne of the few that be killing it, uh\nYeah, young motherfucker that be giving what he living\nOn the road to success so you know that I'm driven\nBut they didn't wanna publish it\nBut right now I'm on some other shit\nI'm in a different world, I'm with a different girl\nI'm with the same team, but it's a different scheme\nRemember back when I couldn't even pay the bills\nAnd I'll never forget how that feels back when I would\nYou might also like\nBuy it, break it, roll it, light it, smoke it, inhale it, I'm gone\nBuy it, break it, roll it, light it, smoke it, inhale it, I'm gone\nOkay, doing what I gotta do, flying at this altitude\nI look out the window like Goddamn, that's what I really do\nDon't know why I fear the planes, sometimes I wish to sustain\nIf I look back on it I would do it all over again\nNikki, Nikki, where you been? I can't wait to breathe you in\nBeen on this plane way too long, I can't wait to see you again\nOh my God this turbulence has got me sippin' on this liquor\nCrazy, racist, white bitch looking at us\nLike, \"Who are these niggas?\"\nFirst class, on they ass, all complain that's when I dash\nJust landed in Europe and this model bitch is tryna smash\nNow I'm riding on the train, all this shit inside my brain\nJust left a hotel in Belgium, damn them waffles was insane\nSmoking blunts in Amsterdam\nOh my God, this is my jam\n\"May-December\" by Mos Def\nIn my headphones, that's the man\n\nI know, I know that I got it if I, do what I gotta do to get by\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nI know, I know that I got it if I, do what I gotta do to get by\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nOkay, fuck affiliation, I'm that dude that did it on his own\nThese thoughts inside my mind be fuckin' with me when I'm all alone\nI really like this girl she bad as fuck, why must I run away?\nIt feel like self assassination, I can't put this gun away\nGod damn, what's the plan? Not complacent where I am\nReminiscing when I hit the road back in that mini van\nBroke as fuck, not a dollar, whipping that Chevy Impala\nPraying that we make it out this city, Lord willin', Insha'Allah\nUp to date the couple years, now my idols are my peers\nI was on the road to nowhere till I decided to veer\nPut my everything into this shit, you know, I know you know this\nUsed to give a fuck what people thought, hoping that they would notice\nStop giving a fuck cause music gotta be the only motive\nMind racing on and off the track, I'm going locomotive\nI can't believe you don't like Tarantino\nUgh, I don't like him because, like\u2014when it's non like non-Tarantino-esque, I think it's a good movie\u2014\nYou mean like Inglourious Basterds?\u2014I didn't see that\nWhat?!\u2014I didn't, I don't know\u2014\nOh my God! Have you seen 'Pulp Fiction'?\nYeah, but I don't really remember it\nWhat you talking about? Have you seen uh... this is funny cause we're on a train... have you seen\u2014fuck! What's his name? The guy from the movie, in the place, on the thing?\nOn the train? With the scenery?\nUh, I'm tryna remember right now, dammit\u2014'Source Code'!\nNo\u2014You haven't seen that?\nNo\u2014With the dude from 'Donnie Darko'?\nWho's that?\u2014Oh my God\nWell, I still wanna know what your favorite Tarantino movie is...\nMy favorite Tarantino movie\u2014?\nI know, I know that I got it if I, do what I gotta do to get by\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nI know, I know that I got it if I, do what I gotta do to get by\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nI know, I know that I got it if I, do what I gotta do to get by\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nAnd they wonder why I never get high\nThe original members of the Rattpack include:\nC Dot Castro, Big Lenbo and Logic"}
{"text":"\nEverybody know I be\nEverybody know I be\nYeah, yeah...\n\nEverybody know I be\nIn the club VIP, sike, not me\nOld girl wanna fuck me\nYeah, she fine, I'ma give her that D\nOut with the homies, I be sippin' on somethin'\nOh shit, I might need an IV, permanently, permanently\nAyy, Goddamn, these bitches is thirsty\nThey see a rapper but they ignore the band\nI ain't talkin' 'bout musicians, you stupid bitch\nTalkin' 'bout what's on my hand\nBitch, I been at and in it for a minute\nThis all been a part of my plan\nSold millions of records before the radio\nDamn, it feel good to be the man\n\nAyy, everybody know I be\u2014\nIn the club VIP, sike, not me\nOld girl wanna fuck me\nYeah, she fine, I'ma give her that D\nOut with the homies, I be sippin' on somethin'\nOh shit, I might need an IV, permanently, permanently\nGoddamn, these bitches is thirsty\nThey see a rapper but they ignore the band\nI ain't talkin' 'bout musicians, you stupid bitch\nTalkin' 'bout what's on my hand\nBitch, I been at and in it for a minute\nThis all been a part of my plan\nSold millions of records before the radio\nDamn, it feel good to be the man\nYou might also like\nEverybody know I be\u2014\nIn the club VIP, sike, not me\nOld girl wanna fuck me\nYeah, she fine, I'ma give her that D\nOut with the homies, I be sippin' on somethin'\nOh shit, I might need an IV, permanently, permanently\n\n\nOh no Bobby, don't do 'em like that\nYou gon' fuck around and leave 'em ruined like that\nRattPack the gang, they all on my back\nRattPack the gang, we do it like that\nNo, don't do 'em like that\nYou gon' fuck around and leave 'em ruined like that\nRattPack the gang, they all on my back\nRattPack the gang, we do it like that\n\nYeah, uh\nThe illest that bring it, the realest\nBitch, I came to kill this\nThey can never bear me, just the homies and me\nNow we the Grammy family\nYou made a couple million, that shit is gross\nMy net is 30, my record clean, my flow is dirty, right?\nReal G's move in silence like\u2014\nWho the common denominator?\nFuck around and bomb a hater\nMy flow greater, heart darker than Darth Vader\nCheck the data, matter of fact, check the state of mind\nAfter I'm finished, these rappers ain't in a state to rhyme\nStraight to your mind now\nFeel this shit like it's some Braille\nWay too heavy for the scale\nAll I know about is bars, like I couldn't make the bail\nIt ain't never room to fail\nOnly growing and prevail\nWhen my anxiety rise and I feel like I'm in hell\nTake a moment and inhale\nCount to five then exhale\nThen we run that motherfucker like a marathon\nHits, motherfucker, hits, yeah we 'bout that Barry Bonds\nBrace yourself, you can't retain me\nAll that shit you talkin' out your mouth just won't sustain me\nLogic pickin' up the slack like denim\nSpit it with venom\nNever pretend to be somethin' that I'm not\nAnd you ain't shit when you stand next to me\nNo kiddin' like vasectomy\nStep to me, throw disrespect to me\nAnd I'll rearrange your trajectory\nBlack and white like a piano and I'm proud to be\nAnd fuck whoever tell me I am not allowed to be\nI am me, I'm a man, can I live?\u2014Goddamn\nYeah, I guess this shit right here is just all a part of the plan\nHaters gon' hate, that's the motherfuckin' sayin'\nSo much plaque up on my wall I need a dentist\nFrom Maryland to Venice, this shit is worldwide\nStep up to the mic and it's a homicide\nOh no Bobby, don't do 'em like that\nYou gon' fuck around and leave 'em ruined like that\nRattPack the gang, they all on my back\nRattPack the gang, we do it like that\nNo, don't do 'em like that\nYou gon' fuck around and leave 'em ruined like that\nRattPack the gang, they all on my back\nRattPack the gang, we do it like that"}
{"text":"Take it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to the first black man\nLong ago before the white man\nCould paint the black man with a gun in his hand\nTake it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to the first white man\nAt the very moment when they looked around and said\n\"Fuck it, I\u2019ma steal this land\"\nTake it back, take it way back\nTake it way way back to the first black man\nLong ago before the white man\nCould paint the black man with a gun in his hand\nTake it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to the first white man\nAt the very moment when they looked around and said\n\"Fuck it, I\u2019ma steal this land\"\n\nEverybody wanna tell me what I am, what I am not\n\"You ain't black, you a mothafuckin' white boy\nShut ya mouth, do it right boy, a'ight boy?\nMan, why you such a hype boy?\"\n\"Why you always talk about being black?\nSkin too white, nigga fuck that\"\nEverything you talk about, cut that\nThat door you trying to open, you could shut that\nGrip the gat, yeah that\u2019s how I\u2019ma buck back\nTell me what I am and what I know now\nAll this prejudice has got to go\nLife is moving fast, it need to slow down\nCome and see me when I am in yo' town\nPractice what we preach before it go down\nPractice what we preach before it go\nYes, I got the gift to gab fo sho\nWill I have to get the gat? No, no\nYes, I got to gift to gab fo sho\nBut will have to get the gat, get the gat, get the, get the?\nMasta deep down inside of me\nThe plantation deep down inside of me\nEverybody fuck like sodomy\n'Cause one or the other what it gotta be\nTell me why my momma gotta lie to me\nUnity for everyone that lied to me\nPeace on Earth what I try to be\nI just wanna spread the message of equality\nAnd yes, I got to gift to gab fo sho\nWill I have to get the gat? No, no\nYes, I got to gift to gab fo sho\nBut will have to get the gat, get the gat, get the, get the gat?\nYou might also like\nTake it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to the first black man\nLong ago before the white man\nCould paint the black man with a gun in his hand\nTake it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to the first white man\nAt the very moment when they looked around and said\n\"Fuck it, I\u2019ma steal this land\"\nTake it back, take it way back\nTake it way way back to the first black man\nLong ago before the white man\nCould paint the black man with a gun in his hand\nTake it back, take it way back\nTake it way way back to the first white man\nAt the very moment when they looked around and said\n\"Fuck it, I\u2019ma steal this land\"\n\nTake it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to about 1990\nShady Grove Hospital in Rockville, Maryland\n7:36 a.m., where a biracial baby was born\nTo a black father and a white mother\nFather that wasn\u2019t there\nAddicted to crack cocaine, alcohol, and various other drugs\nSame as his mom\n(Way, way back)\nSo I\u2019m gonna tell you about that, right?\nAnd I\u2019m gonna tell you about how\nAll this young boy ever wanted was happiness\nAll he ever wanted was positivity\nAll he ever wanted to do was entertain\nAnd this boy went through hell\nYou gotta understand, his mother was racist, which is crazy\n'Cause how in the fuck is you gonna have\nAll these black babies with black men but you racist\nLike bitch, that don\u2019t make no sense, but it is what it is\nYou know, he grew up, her callin' him a nigger\nThe kids at school callin' him a cracker\nIdentifying as black, looking as white\nBeing told what you can or can\u2019t be\nThis kid went through everything\nHe went through...\nHe saw narcotics in the household\nViolence, murderers, drug dealers, he was kidnapped\nThere was crazy shit that happened to this kid\nAnd he persevered while the whole world said\nWhat they said?\nSaid you wouldn\u2019t be shit!\nYou ain\u2019t gon' be nothin', nothin', nothin', nothin'\nNothin', nothin', nothin', nothin', nothin', nothin', nothing\nAnd I, and he, he said fuck that, I\u2019ma persevere\nAnd that\u2019s why the message is always peace, love and positivity\nSee, he always saw things from two sides\nHe always saw things from two sides\nHe always knew that the message\nEverybody was born equal\nRegardless of race, religion, color, creed, and sexual orientation\nHe knew that because he saw that\n(Take it back, take it way back\nTake it way)\nBecause he was stripped and torn down\nBy his black brothers and sisters that were uneducated\nAnd that did not know\nAnd he was stripped and he was torn down\nBy his white side that did not know\nThese people that are ignorant\nThat cannot see the bigger picture\nThat must fight and kill and murder each other\nBut once again, all he ever wanted to do\nWas spread a message of equality\nFor every man, woman, and child\nRegardless of race, religion, color, creed, and sexual orientation\n(Take it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to the first)\nNow imagine this child growing up\nAnd seeing the craziest shit\nBeing a part of the craziest shit\nRunning around with the wrong people\nRunning around with guns and knives\nAnd fighting and stealing and, and all this\nBecause he didn\u2019t know, he didn\u2019t know!\nBut he knew deep down in his heart that it wasn\u2019t right\nAnd he knew that he needed to get away from it\nNow I want you to also imagine, that at 17 years old\nThis child, okay, leaves home and gets two jobs to support himself\nTwo jobs that he works in the morning and the evenings\nAnd then he would then come home\nTo about eight or nine hours of sleep\nBut spend four, five, six hours of that\nWorking on music, persevering\nGrabbing the remote control and looking in the mirror\nAnd pretending to see thousands and thousands and thousands of people\nJust chanting his name\nHoping that it would happen\nBut the, but the, but the world said no!\nMothafucka, little mothafucka no-no, no-no, no-no, no-no\nYa nigga, ya cracka, ya white boy, ya black mothafucka\nNo-no!\n(Take it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to the first)\nAnd he said fuck that\nHe said peace, love, and positivity\nHe said equality for all man\nRegardless of race, religion, color, creed, and sexual orientation, yeah\nNow I want you to also imagine\nPeople telling him that he did not live this life\n\u201cYou just a white boy\nYou ain\u2019t never experienced that shit\nYou from Gaithersburg, Maryland, nothing happens there\nOh no, no, we know, we weren\u2019t there\nWe didn\u2019t live with you, we didn't live in your Section 8 household\nWe didn\u2019t live with the narcotics and violence in your household\nWe just saw it from the outside, outside, outside, outside\nOutside, outside, outside, outside\nAnd since you white, you gotta have money, right?\u201d\n(Take it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to the first black man)\nAnd this young man persevered in spite\nOf what people told him he was, wasn\u2019t, and would never be\n(Take it back, take it way back\nTake it way, way back to the first black)\nAnd that man is here today, proud\nA lover of all human beings\nRegardless of race, religion, color, creed, sexual orientation, yeah, yeah\nAnd he\u2019s here to say:\nEven though we\u2019re all born and created equal\nWe are not treated equally\nThere\u2019s extremists on every side\nAnd you should just do your best to live life\nAnd let other people believe whatever they wanna believe\nAs long as they\u2019re not hurtin' anybody\nYou can believe they\u2019re going to hell\nYou can believe it\u2019s not right\nYou can believe you\u2019re superior, fine\nJust stop killing each other"}
{"text":"94 ContributorsMan of the Year Lyrics\n\nI wonder what it feel like\nTo do that shit in real life\nAnd now I know I got it\nThat's the reason No I.D. has signed me on the dotted\nBut it's still Visionary 'til the death of me\nYeah, I'm tryna make it but I gotta find the recipe\nGreatest of all time, I want the world addressin' me\nAt the hotel, these beautiful girls undressin' me\nI'm tryna stay focused, I guess that's the Lord testin' me\nI knew as a child, that this was my destiny\nThey do it for the limelight\nBut I make sure my rhyme's right\nWaiting 'til the time's right\nSmilin' at my mom's like\nSmilin' at my mom\nSmilin' at my mama\nMo\u00ebt what we sippin' now\nWe was never trippin' now\nWe on private jets, in other words, that means that we trippin' now\n'Cause they was over there, I was over here\nThey was too scared while I was facin' my fears\nI've always been driven, but they too scared to steer\nThat's why I compete with legends, motherfuck my peers\nYou might also like\nI'm the man of the year, man of the year\nMan of the year, man of the year\nMan of the year, man of the year\n\nThey said I couldn't do it\nBack when I was broke goin' through it\n'Til I got a deal, now they talkin' 'bout \"I knew it\"\nBut you wasn't there in the beginnin'\nNowhere to be found when I was down\nBut you show up when I'm winnin'\nUh, left me to drown, now I'm swimmin'\nI do it 'cause I love this shit\nFuck the money, and the women, and the\u2014\nAnd the whips with the rims still spinnin'\nI been at it since the beginnin'\nAll these girls screamin', \"Logic\"\nBut I wanna hear my real name\nCome from the lips of a beautiful woman, that's real, man\nY'all act like I'm Superman\nBut I can feel pain\nI should've gone crazy, and yet I'm still 'sane\nLove it when they sing to us\nBeen shinin' what's bling to us\nYeah, over here\nIt's only been a year\nI was dirt broke, now I'm ballin' like a sphere\nI'm the man of the year, man of the year\nMan of the year, man of the year\nMan of the year, man of the year\n\nNow that I'm in the limelight\nThey hit me all the time like (Logic, you never call me)\nShut the fuck up, ho, let me get my mind right\n'Cause this is for the fans, who truly understand\nReal all the time, all of y'all my fam'\nShootin' for the stars and I ain't finna land\nGivin' everything I can while they tell me I'm the man\nMakin' music is the plan\nMatter fact, you can call it plan B\n'Cause I kill these rappers while they're in their infancy\nAnd I be first to pop off, infantry\nGotta keep 'em in line like symmetry\nWe all fam', same root, smokin' different tree\nAnd all these people in the crowd sound like a symphony\nUh, to my ears, I love it when they cheer\nOn the road to success, these haters in my rear\nI got nothin' to fear\n'Cause the whole team here\nAnd everybody shoutin' (What they shoutin'?)\nYou're the man of the year, man of the year\nMan of the year, man of the year\nMan of the year, man of the year"}
{"text":"Aye, this that shit\nI'm looking at you 6ix\nI've been feeling like a...\n\nI've been feeling like a mothafuckin' postman\nSending letters to the people\nAll this knowledge that I got, I'm like an old man\nHold up, wait now oh man!\nLet me back up in this bitch\nI'm platinum in this bitch, I'm rapping in this bitch\nRunning the game, yeah I've been lappin' in this bitch\nYou know it's alright\nFuck around and they all might\nLook at a brother different, I've been at it all night\nI think I said it but I know I do it\nThis for everybody going through it\n\nLike woah\nThrough it like woah\nThrough it like woah\nGoing through it like woah\nYou already know\nYou already know\nGotta get it like woah\nIn this bitch like woah\nGet it like, like, like woah\nLet's go\u2014uh, I'ma get it like woah\nYou might also like\nBack up in this mothafucka livin' like a goddamn king\nTell me money ain't a thing now\n30 thousand feet above the world right next to the wing\nToo high to hear the birds sing now\nAll around the world and back again it's finally happenin'\nI'm lappin' in this luxury by nappin' in a big ass house\nChillin' with my homies on the West side, West side\nBringin' out my best side\nI was on the road for like a quarter I was in and out the border\nFrom London to Paris, yes it's very extraordinary\nFuck around and took the bus and a ferry\nShould've seen the itinerary\nThen we made it back home like woah\nTell me how you're feelin', higher than the ceilin'\nI know I've been illin'\nProbably wonder where I'm at, bitch I've been chillin'\nWhy they grillin'? Yeah I'm still in like I never left\nThey know I had to go but then I brought it right back\n\nLike woah\nDo it like woah\nDo it like woah\nGoing through it like woah\nYou already know\nYou already know\nGotta get it like woah\nIn this bitch like woah\nGet it like, like, like woah\nLet's go\u2014Uh, I'ma get it like woah\nI get so high they wonder why no I can't go away\nI gotta hold my own, know that's the only way\nI've been vibin', let me guide em, I said I gotta know\nI've been ridin' for so long I think that it's time to go\nFeeling like an addict that ain't had it, up and at it in a minute\nIf it hadn't been invented, my limit wouldn't be infinite\nI'm feeling like an infant in a womb, I'ma be here 'til the tomb\nLately I've been in my room\nLookin' and lookin' at records on the wall\nHold up\u2014\n\nLike woah\n\nYeah I hope we make it to fuckin' paradise and not die on the way there, mothafucka..."}
{"text":"En garde, I'll let you try my Wu-Tang style\nI'd like to try your Wu-Tang style, let's begin, then\nShaolin shadowboxing and the Wu-Tang sword style\nIf what you say is true, the Shaolin and the Wu-Tang could be dangerous\nDo you think your Wu-Tang sword can defeat me?\nWu-Tang!\nWu-Tang!\nWu-Tang!\nWu-Tang!\n\nAyo, ayo, Wu-Tang forever, who rhyme better?\nWe too clever, the boom bap's back, harder than ever\nR.I.P. O.D.B, comin' through like Killa Bee\nEver since I heard Enter the 36 in '93\nYou cannot defeat my Wu-Tang style, I leave 'em all dismembered\nFuck a mumble rap, that shit won't never be remembered\nNot even a contender, no, pretender, best surrender\nMy agenda is killin' shit, they feelin' this (Sinatra)\nYeah, we live and thorough\nAssassinatin' every single muthafuckin' borough\nFrom Staten to Brooklyn to Queens, the Bronx and Harlem\nAll the way to Maryland, yeah, we comin' for all 'em\nBobby Tarantino to the Digital\nMy shit is pivotal, smokin' chronic, no medicinal\nWho you know assemble the Clan like Voltron?\nThe one and only Logic, the God, the don, I'm gone\nYou might also like\nAy-yo, Logic, what up?\nWe gon' let these muthafuckas try this Wu-Tang style\n\nYo, yo, yo, yo, kaboom!\nGuess who stepped in the room\nIt's Ghostface, gold plates, old truths, more cake\nIntelligent brothers with nine hoods, movin' snowflakes\nGuillotine your head, last scene in the showcase\nPush weight, this Colgate, tre-eights and old gates\nExfoliate those we most hate, we don't associate\nWe wear robes that you can't even pronunciate\nWe eat foods where you can't even pronounce you ate\nCribs where the floor just rises up and rotates\nLocations low-key, can't even locate\nTwin nina sisters with the beam, we all soulmates\nTeam makin' us so much cream, we bought gold plates\n\nYo, mountains of haze in the crib of my blades\nIt gets messy underneath the dresser, the gauge\n57 MB, yo, metallic green, seats is piped off\nSeize 'em old tracks, unite through 'em\nThe kitchen is my palace, get your dance on\nWhile we just levitate with trees, get your branch on\nI'm known to wil\u2019 out, put the cams on\nJewels down, the sets dip, my gems got grams on\nA specialist when I'm bakin'\nRhymes be comin' out, we makin'\nWe challengin' these chumps for lumps\nHere's the statement\u2014stop hatin'\nThe crew is all about gettin' this cake in\nYou know about me, you relatin'\nThe enigma, the stigmas that the RZA and the GZA\nBoth lyrical prolific, fixtures of rap scriptures\nMixtures of hipsters, weed smokers, and beer drinkers\nPrince and the Pauper, spiritual clear-thinkers\nCake in the oven, Superbad like McLovin\nHuggin' all four boroughs, puffin' herb with my cousin\nAcademically speaking, rap vocabulary's weakenin'\nI felt it comin' like The Weeknd when these starboys start tweakin'\nSporadic pill-poppin' of OxyContin\nIII-gotten sexual intercourse make shorty wop feel rotten\nThe travesty-tapestry of microphone mastery has been refuted\nDiluted, broken down to a catastrophe\nBut cats still get the trophy, hit y'all with that \"Okie-dokie\"\nBurt Reynolds, Bandit, goddamnit\nWhere the fuck is Smokey Bear when you need one?\nI got a light-beam gun\nI'll blast a hole in your chest that you can't bleed from\nBut you'll die through iniquity, plus stupidity of that trickery\nMy verse got it hot up in here, not the humidity\nYou can never get rid of me, step back and consider me\nWu Killa Bee, but I'm not big on bigotry\n\nOld school on this track, I feel invincible\nThis new school ain't really got rules and lack the principles\nGot more clowns than the Motown, they puttin' critical\nThe gun, Smokey Robinson, you need a Miracle\nGo back, homie, back when rappers used to be lyrical\nWhen nine out of ten of his friends used to be criminals\nThe stats, homie, all these killas usin' subliminals\nY'all don't even smile in your pictures, you dudes is miserable\nWitty unpredictable torture over your physical\nStruggle bar, used to pour water over the cereal\nAnother bar, reppin' my squad, not individual\nBut one Nation under God, that's indivisible\nMy time critical, hands off I'm digital\nMe and my Ladybug, back when the planet was Digable\nI'm cool like that, my cash rule like that\nI'm classic, Patti LaBelle, Voulez Vous like that, come on\nIt's only Logic, we got 'em mobbin' in the mosh pit\nFifth Brother, INS hotter than the tropics\nThe hot shit I drop quick\nMajor player, watch my stock lift\nRazor-blade sharpness regardless to whom or what\nSound boy, turn that music up\nNaysayer, you ain't even got a clue what's up\nDeadly melody, the sickness, the remedy\nEverything circulate back around eventually\nWitty unpredictable, talent all-natural\nGain, Wu-Tang pumpin' through your veins\nTwenty-five years, still more of the same\nThe flow like water with the boilin' flame\nINS, your highness, they callin' my name\nBoy, I wet the scene similar to fallin' rain\nIn our own lane, y'all soundin' all the same\nTell 'em Wu-Tang is on your brain\n\nSurvival of the fittest be cold days with no money\nThey don't want me with stacks, they better take it from me\nYou know the currency gone soon as you break a twenty\nSo I ain't down if you ain't talkin' that band language\nDear Lord, I'm tryna buy me a train with it\nAn airplane, see me flyin' to Spain with it\nBut money don't make me, and I ain't gonna change with it\nI'm in the hood, lookin' good, the way I came with it\nDo it for the Cs, they understood the game with it\nWe gave birth when we understood the pain with it\nWhen we create wars, everybody is a gangbanger\nWe killin' each other, but we all got the same anger\nNever go against the grain, homie, that's hateful\nAnother day in the life for us to be grateful\nSpread love, homie, yeah, get a plateful\nIt's better to stay full, so let's make moves\nI know your momma told you that I was a great dude\nThese dirty-ass cops, they kill and rape you\nOn some Jason shit, might Crystal in the Lake you\nWhat? What, what? They might Crystal in the Lake you\n\nBoom bap blast'll blow your sleeves off\nOur Flashback Jacks are somethin' to feed off\nSmoke and roast ya, the No. 9 Potion\nPull that shit, son, we open the ocean\nWho gives a fuck who's snortin' and drinkin' and smokin'?\nYou get killed for jokin', everybody's hopin'\nThat's another level of emotion\nFood stamps niggas doin' grocery\nPolice wanna grope me\nPerp walk, then nigga street-talk\nWe bury niggas in sea salt\nI carry the torch where I leave off\nI'm givin' bitches somethin' to breathe on\nI rip off a shoulder to lean on\nIt's fair game, it's two in a lane, she took two trains\nAnd none of my rhymes is two and the same\nNigga get cooked on a open flame\nI'm a hillbilly, Park Hill-trained\n\nMy rhyme starts riots in the mountains\nThirty-six million and countin'\nThe harder they come, the harder I go\nLoosen up my arms, can I get comfortable?\nStay on my tip-toes, old-school Wu beat\nThis is a flip-phone, dude, your slips showin'\nWhere I come from it stays snowin'\nThe grammar is raw, I'm slammin' the door\nBeez bang bong in your jaw\nI hit 'em in the head with the hammer of Thor\nStars and bars, makes me a general\nAnything less, makes me a criminal\nGotta dig deep for these Wu-Tang minerals\n\nG.O.D., shadowbox with the L.O.G.I.C\nOn the count of three, Wu-Tang\nFirst, master your breathin'\nI'm mental ass-whoopin', I'm teachin' when I'm speakin'\nI'm a champion from Brooklyn\nI'm movin' super-ninjas and Shaolin executioners\nAvenger, a righteous defender\nGrandmaster from the 36th Chamber\nToad style is mentally strong, so strengthen your arms\nTo hold my microphone you need iron palms\nRemain calm, Jamel Irief\nWise chief, Wu-Tang poison clansman from the east, yeah\n\nEnter a world of a universal mind of one kind\nA thick swarm of words that's expressed in one rhyme\nFood for thought, impossible sliders with the seasoning Regardless, I speak logic\u2014clear reasoning\nThe uncivilized, get the mineral lines, quartz\nSelf-directed, calculated, controlled thoughts\nA point-of-view of the thinkers\nMonumental architecture, amazing as the Incas\n\n(Sinatra) (Wu-Tang)\nW.T.C., ah-ha\nThe faculty\nAin't nothin' goin' on, don't nothin' move\nNobody slide, nobody get hurt\n\nEn garde, I'll let you try my Wu tang style\nI'd like to try your Wu tang style, let's begin, then\nShaolin shadowboxing and the Wu tang sword style\nIf what you say is true, the Shaolin and the Wu Tang could be dangerous\nDo you think your Wu Tang sword can defeat me?"}
{"text":"Lemme shout out Bobby, 'cause 6ix in there like\n\"Oh my goodness\"\nNah, I just did that for the adlib\u2014keep that (Squad!)\nYeah, oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my God!\nYeah, keep all that shit, and this...\nI'm like, oh my goodness, oh my\u2014\nAnd this, here we go, here we GO!\nYeah, yeah!\n\nI'm like, oh my goodness, oh my goodness\nOh my God, I'm coming with the goodness\nActing like I ain't been in it\nLike I ain't been pushing my limit\nHold up, wait up, get your weight up!\nP-L-P but fuck around get the fade up\nThey shit is made up, straight up!\n\nCall me Bobby Tarantino living on the level\nAnd I'm prophesizing everything we know\nBecause of the internet, I made a million and another million\nThat's word to Gambino\nHe one of the realest, I swear he the realest\nBut anyway, back to the subject at hand\nI just performed for an hour, performed for an hour\nAnd made myself a hundred grand like...\nYou might also like\nOh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my God\nWooh! That's lit, that's lit\nThat's gonna be the hook right there!\nYeah! I'm like, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my God\nI'm like, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my God\nI just beat that Uncharted 4, lit\nBitch, I been at it, RattPack if you live it\nYou die by that shit\u2014get it tatted\nI think I done had it now, hold up, wait up, leave 'em laid up\nThis for every single night that I stayed up\nReal all the time, nah, this shit never made up\nNo, it's never made up, no, it's, no, it's straight up!\nStraight up, bitch!\n\nI'm like, oh my goodness, oh my goodness\nOh my God, I'm coming with the goodness\nActing like I ain't been in it\nLike I ain't been pushing my limit\nHold up, wait up, get your weight up!\nP-L-P but fuck around get the fade up\nThey shit is made up, straight up!\nYeah, it's that Flexicution, I want retribution\nY'all gone fuck around and make me wake up Lucian\nAnd I don't think y'all ready for the revolution\nBoy your shit is pollution, Logic got the solution\nMotherfuckers used to hate us, now they sayin' that they made us\nEveryone know I'm the greatest\nTell 'em, \"Title your album, A Fish Outta Water\"\nCause that shit be floppin'\u2014You fuckin' suck...\nNumber 1 my shit droppin', love it or hate it, they know the name\nThey know the name cause it's poppin'\nDropped 2 million on my new crib\nNow nobody but God can stop us!\n\nOh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my God\nI'm like, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my God\nI'm like, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my goodness\nOh my goodness, oh my God\nFuck, Jurassic Park... lit"}
{"text":"I know that you think this song is for you\nI used to long for you and adore you\nMy life was just fine way back before you\nNow when you reach out I just ignore you\n\n'Cause this ain't a love song (Whoa)\nThis is, \"So long\"\nYou did me so wrong for so long\nFor so long, for so long\n\nNo, I never thought I could live my life without you\nAll you ever seem to do is scream and make it all about you\n\nAnd so I doubt you\nI doubt you even know what's on my mind\nI said, I doubt you\nI doubt you even know why I left you behind\n\nI know that I've been living\nI know that I've been living\nI know that I've been living\nI know that I've been living\nIn the city of stars, where there's flying cars\nA brand new home for everyone and even life on Mars\nIn the city of stars, where there's flying cars\nA brand new home for everyone and even life on Mars\nYou might also like\nThis ain't a love song (Whoa)\nThis is, \"So long\"\nYou did me so wrong for so long\nFor so long, for so long\n\nAnd so I doubt you\nI doubt you even know what's on my mind\nI said I doubt you\nI doubt you even know why I left you\u2014\nYeah, uh, yeah\nMuch love to Def Jam, even though they under shipped me\nDid me like Bobby did Whitney, but the fans was with me\nKnow my name around the world but it still ain't hit me\nAll the talent in the world and they still don't get me\nI didn't talk about my race on the whole first album\nBut black vs. white bullshit was the still the outcome\nHow come these motherfuckers can't seem to let it go?\nJudging rap by race instead of the better flow\nWho gives a fuck who made it? I penetrate it and innovate it\nWhile they emulate it, give a fuck if I'm hated\nI'ma do it 'til I get it, fuck a nominated\nBitch, I dominate it\nYeah, emails from Rick Rubin, dinner with No ID\nChilling with B-I-G D-A-Double-D-Y K-A-N-E\nNot many get to do what I do, and now enemies\nThinking they slick as fuck like the finna befriending me\nBut let's get back to the music, I'm gone\nOutside of this solar system, I'm searching for paradise\nLivin' the life, bitch, I've been a vet\nFuck all these cats on the internet\nI love hip-hop and I hate hip-hop\n'Cause people that love Pac hope that Drake get shot\n'Cause he raps about money and bitches, for heaven's sakes\nPac did the same shit, just on a drum break\nNow, I ain't wanna name names, I'm just droppin' this game\nWe all people, all equal\u2014now let me let off, yeah\nNow let me let off\nTougher than raw denim, my flow you can't identify\nTalib said it best back in the day, we just tryna get by\nTwo words, Mos Def, in my headphones\nBlack on one side, now I'm in another zone\nSwitch flows, fuck 'em up\u2014play the game, run 'em up\nYeah, I sold a couple records but people don't give a fuck\nAll the people want is real, guess that's why Logic appeal\nAll the power in the world; hold that, tell me how that feel?\nRacism on television and magazines\nPaying taxes so soldiers don't run out of magazines, god damn\nCountry don't give a fuck who I am\nJust a youngin' on the rise with a mic in my hand\nAnd I am, here's to the Roc\nThe .45 Glock that my older brother pop\u2014shot\nAnd I am, finally on top; too high up, not a drop\nStop, we gettin' guap, gettin' guap\nI am, livin' like I ain't got it\nSpit the flow so robotic, man, who gives a fuck about it?\nMaryland 'til I die, but I had to get the fuck up out it\nI love it and hate it, you probably don't know, man, I doubt it"}
{"text":"Everything is fine, everything is so fine\nEverything is fine, everything is so fine\n'Cause I\u2019m good, so good\n'Cause I\u2019m good, so good, so good\nI wish you would, I wish you would\nI wish you would, I wish you would\nI wish you would, this is my life\nThis is my all, this is my all\nAnd now I\u2019m happy, right now I\u2019m happy, but sometimes\n\nI\u2019ma get up in your mind right now\nI\u2019ma get up in your, I\u2019ma get it\nGon' get up, gon' get up\nGon' get up, get up, get up, get up\nI\u2019ma get up in your mind right now\nMake you feel like dying right now\nI\u2019ma make you pray to God\nTo the good old Lord for a sign right now\nTo the good old Lord\nI\u2019ma get up in your mind right now\nMake you feel like dying right now\nI\u2019ma make you pray to God\nTo the good old Lord for a sign right now\nTo the good old Lord\nYou might also like\n\u201cI\u2019ma make it some day some how\u201d what you telling yourself\nBut you ain\u2019t focused on what's important: mentality, health Everybody in the world only want one thing, what's that?\nInfinite power and a pocket full of wealth\nIts like ohhh I'ma bring it back to the basics\nNobody can erase it\nPeople in the street going ape shit\nBattling depression but nobody wanna say shit\nI'ma bring it back to the basics\nI'ma bring it back to the basics\nI'ma get up, get on\nThat\u2019s what I been on\nFuckin' with your mind, tryna turn shit on\nBut they want to paint me as a villain\nEven though I\u2019m here to open their mind\nThrough the rhyme of life\nI gotta open their mind and design the right time\nTo make a decision and get in 'em like an incision\n'Cause I'ma hit 'em and give 'em livin'\nThey wonder what I\u2019m giving, I'ma never give in\nI gotta let everybody know\nI'm in their mind right now\n\nI\u2019ma get up in your mind right now\nMake you feel like dying right now\nI\u2019ma make you pray to God\nTo the good old Lord for a sign right now\nTo the good old Lord\nI\u2019ma get up in your mind right now\nMake you feel like dying right now\nI\u2019ma make you pray to God\nTo the good old Lord for a sign right now\nTo the good old Lord\nI'ma bring it back to the basics\nNobody can erase it\nPeople in the street going ape shit\nBattling depression but nobody wanna say shit\nWhy nobody wanna say:\nI been living with this everyday\nWhy nobody wanna say:\nEverything will be ok\nI'ma bring it back to the basics\nEverything will be okay\nI remember somehow, someway\nI remember somehow, someway\nI remember somehow, someway\nI remember somehow, someway\n\nIt was December of 2015 in sunny Los Angeles California in the heart of Hollywood\nI stood next to my wife in a line surrounded by hundreds of other people on our way to watch Star Wars\nWhen suddenly I was engulfed with fear and panic\nAs my body began to fade\nIn this moment my mind was full of clarity\nBut my body insisted it was in danger\nI looked around and I told myself I was safe, I was fine\nBut I was convinced that something was wrong\nBefore I knew it I felt as though I was going to\nFall and fade away\nMy body grew weak\nAnd soon enough I found myself in a hospital bed being told what I went through was anxiety\nI refused to believe this story\nI searched and searched for the cause of what had happened to me\nI began to feel detached from reality\nI felt as though I was seeing the world through a glass\nI got blood work done\nAnalysis of my mind and body to no avail\nThe doctor said it was anxiety\nBut how could it be anxiety?\nHow could anxiety make me physically feel off balance?\nHow could anxiety make me feel as though I was fading from this world and on the brink of death?\nDerealization\nThe sense of being out of one\u2019s body\nI\u2019m not here\nI\u2019m not me\nI\u2019m not real\nNothing is\nNothing but this feeling of panic\nNobody understands\nNobody knows the sufferings\nThis physical feeling\nIt can\u2019t be anxiety\nIt can\u2019t\nOr can it?\nCan it in fact be the mind controlling the body?\nYeah, of course\nI\u2019m so in control of my mind and my body\nBut I\u2019m subconsciously forcing myself into a state\nOf self bondage entangled by the ropes of my own mind\nI am unhappy\nNot with life\nBut with this feeling\nI am scared, I am human, I am a man\nBut I look in the mirror and I see a child\nI am an adult who recognize grown ups don\u2019t really know shit\nAnd they never did\nAnd it scares me\nCause now I\u2019m just a grown up who doesn\u2019t know shit\nBut one thing is I do know this feeling, this horrible feeling is going to kill me\nNo, no this feeling\nThis anxiety is nothing\nI have anxiety\nJust like you, the person I wrote this for\nAnd together we will overcome this feeling\nWe will remember despite the attacks and constant feeling of our mind and body being on the edge\nThat we are alive\nAnd any moments we have free of this feeling we will not take for granted\nWe will rejoice in this gift that is life\nWe will rejoice in this day that we have been given\nWe will accept our anxiety and strive for the betterment of ourselves\nStarting with mental health\nWe will accept ourselves as we are\nAnd we will be happy with the person we see in the mirror\nWe will accept ourselves\nAnd live with anxiety"}
{"text":"Me and my team gotta intervene\nWhat's the point of living if you ain't living a dream?\nWe live in a world where everybody want everything\nEverybody want a better thing\nTryna fool ya like it's picture perfect but it's just the editing\nMan, the game been waiting for a better king\nI've been posted with my Queen like Coretta King\nScreaming \"Money ain't a thing\", cause it ain't\nMan, I never knew that living out a dream\nMeant living out a suitcase, I've been working at a new pace\nSo much money on the road I ain't even had a minute\nNot a single second chilling in my new place\nMotherfuckers getting two-faced\nCause a brother finally eating\nNot to mention everybody gettin' two plates\nYou know I only got two traits\nDrop hits, get money\u2014run it\n\nWhat the fuck is there left to talk about\nI told them my vision, let 'em know what it's all about\nIndustry only respect me because I'm ballin' out\nYou never know who there for you until you fallin' out\nAnd that's the reason I've been in the kitchen\nWorking on that nutrition, now let 'em listen\nBoy, this been my house, this is merely an addition\nFuck 'em and their permission, they was killin' the game\nWho the one that gave 'em remission?\u2014you know the name\nWho else you know on the come up, do it like I does it\nLyrics all up in your skull like when the barber buzz it\nSay my last shit a classic, and I wonder was it?\nCome to think about it everybody seemed to love it\nI was workin' on a budget, second time around shit is different\nCause they know that boy good, know he does it\nI've been at it for the people that been lovin' my shit\nNot the people that been hating\nThey can suck my dick\u2014run it\nYou might also like\nI'ma do somethin' different for the last one\nI'ma go in...\n\nFeelin' like Matthew Mcconaughey\nOn an Interstellar mission in Chicago\nAt the bottom of the Riviera\nI wonder who I would be if I wasn't in my era\nI gotta beware of the people\nBut I take care of the people\nWhen I jump in the cockpit and rock it\nBeen done had this in my pocket\nI had to wait to unlock it\nOpen that locket and see the picture I painted\nNo, we ain't never acquainted\nOn the rise like a defendant\nThat was charged with possession like an exorcism\nMy division is solely my vision\nGod damn, can you feel it?\nUh, I had a dream I would run the game and kill it\nHad a dream, can you feel it?\nMotherfucker wanna push it to the limit\nGet up in it, make the shit infinite\nYeah you know I wanna win it, on my independent\nI've been at it like an addict\nNever at the party like I'm democratic\n'Lotta static on the radio\nFuck everything that they represent\nThis right here is heaven sent, never irrelevant\nNo never when I slide up in the spot\nJust a youngin' in the game\nTryna show 'em what I got, way back\nThat was the mentality, never truly reality\nLooking for validation\nWith all the wrong things on my mind for motivation\nJust chillin' at the crib on a PlayStation\n'Cause I never thought about it, never thought that people would have a song like mine in their rotation\nTil I wised up, got 'em sized up\nReady to go, I'm feelin' fired up\nMan it's been a good ride up\nEverybody want me to lace 'em\nI'm too tied up, this a ransom\u2014\nFist full of money then we head back to the mansion\n30 thousand people in the crowd, we expanding\nCouple years back you ain't give a damn\nAutographs off the plane whenever I land\nAll part of the plan, anything you wanna do you can\nJust go and get it, fuck 'em if they don't love 'em\nBe above it unless you're thinking your profession gon' be rap\nMatter fact, you should take a step back\u2014cause I run it"}
{"text":"You\u2014you, you\nYou\u2014you, you, you, you, you\nYou, you\u2014you\nYou\u2014you, you, you, you, you\nYou\u2014you, you, you, you, you\nYou, you\u2014you\nYou\u2014you, you, you, you, you\nWarm it up, warm it up\nWarm it up, warm it up, warm it up\nWarm it up, warm it up\nWarm it up, warm it up, warm it up\n\nIt's that Young Sinatra shit, yeah, that's that Young Sinatra shit\nShut the fuck up and listen whenever Young Sinatra spit\nYeah, your girl fine as hell but she a Young Sinatra chick\nHey Bobby, how can you tell? She on the Young Sinatra dick\nAll these rappers wack as fuck, make the Young Sinatra sick\nRattPack be the squad, that's that Young Sinatra clique\nGoddamn, said this the Young Sinatra clique, goddamn!\nListen, yeah\u2014I\u2019m visualizing the realism of life in actuality\nStep to me, fatality; yeah, this shit is my galaxy\nI am who the baddest be, I'd rather be at the academy\nKillers, I'm be glad to be me, magnify the shit like bifocal\nMotherfuckers talk on the internet, but in person they never vocal\nCome to the hood and fuck you up if you prefer to be local\nI'm loco from Noho to Soho\nGettin' cheese like a photo, you know, ho\nI'm blessed like Sunday, flyer than a runway\nLil' Bobby never second-guessed that he gon' make it one day\nOne\u2013way or another, my brother, word to your mother\nThey should give me a badge 'cause I'm always under covers\nGoddamn! I'm a miraculous man!\nYou know I get, I get it, I get it, I get it\nThe Young Sinatra spit it, rewind it, and rip it\nI could murder your whole album with a 30-second snippet\nPass the Mary Jane like I'm runnin' a train with Peter Parker\nOn tour, I have more sex in the city than Sarah Jessica Parker\nThe deeper and deeper I go, it get darker\nThey say they want the old me, they want the Young Sinatra back\nThe one that murder it, rip it up, no, never givin' up 'round the almanac\nYeah, I'm all of that, fall back, like September again\nBashin' these rappers so hard they won't remember again\nWhen it comes to hip-hop, bitch, I'm indigenous to this\nIt's apparent I'm bearin' down like a parent\nWhen the beef is at stake, I'm Mastro's\nMy god-level lyricism surpass flows, I'm much more than fast flows\nMoney, talk, cash knows, greatest of levels\u2013I've passed those\nYou might also like\nFuck that rap shit, this that trap shit (Bobby!)\nThis world is my contraption (Bobby!)\nI was born and raised in the trap, son (Bobby!)\nTalk shit, get kidnapped, son (Bobby!)\nI don't really know why I rap, son (ay!)\nMoney in the bank, yeah, I got some (ay!)\nCouple sports cars, yeah, I bought some (ay!)\nLogic never flex, Bobby get it done! (ay!)\nYeah, y'all don't really know where I come from (come now)\nTalkin' that shit, I'ma come for 'em (what's good?)\nTell me what you really know about me right now\nAnything I want, I get it somehow\n\nFuck that trap shit, this that rap shit\nGive me the head like John the Baptist\nReady to rip it, I hope in the captives\nGreatest alive like I'm Cassius\nI put 'em all in they caskets, they can't seem to get past it\nI'm a bastard that mastered the flow\nAnd none of y'all ready for the massacre, though\nFuck with Logic? Yeah, that's a no\nMatter of fact, it's not impossible, just highly improbable\nLike, saying the police isn't robbable\nBut I'm liable to walk up in the station in blue-face\nLike, \"Fuck the police!\"\u2014Blue lives ain't a race\nFuck whoever said this rap shit was never a race\nThis shit a marathon\nMurder you motherfuckers and carry on\nClaimin' that you really 'bout this shit\nYou got your Jim Carrey on\u2014\nLiar Liar; I might crucify ya\nNumber one till I die, will never retire\nI am the Messiah, I am the god of this shit\nThis is how we do it\u2014yeah, I started this shit\nYes, I started this shit like\u2013\nFuck that rap shit, this that trap shit (Bobby!)\nThis world is my contraption (Bobby!)\nI was born and raised in the trap, son (Bobby!)\nTalk shit, get kidnapped, son (Bobby!)\nI don't really know why I rap, son (ay!)\nMoney in the bank, yeah, I got some (ay!)\nCouple sports cars, yeah, I bought some (ay!)\nLogic never flex, Bobby get it done! (ay!)\nYeah, y'all don't really know where I come from (come now)\nTalkin' that shit, I'ma come for 'em (what's good?)\nTell me what you really know about me right now\nAnything I want, I get it somehow\n\nYou\u2014you, you\nYou\u2014you, you, you, you, you\nYou, you\u2014you\nYou\u2014you, you, you, you, you\nYou\u2014you, you, you, you, you\nYou, you\u2014you\nYou\u2014you, you, you, you, you"}
{"text":"Ass, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs all the things that I turned out to be\nAss, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs everything that I like, like, like, like\nAss, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs all the things that I turned out to be\nAss, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs everything that I like, like, like, like\n\nReal shit goin' on in Lebanon\nBut I don\u2019t give a fuck, my favorite show is coming on\nHashtag pray for this, pray for that\nBut you ain\u2019t doing shit, get away from that\nBlame it on a black, blame it on a white\nBlame it on a gun, blame it on a Muslim\nEverybody wanna blame him, blame her\nJust blame it on a mothafucka killing everyone!\nEverybody wanna get high\nEverybody wanna live life like they can\u2019t die\nEverybody gotta be right\nEverybody scrollin', scrollin' through they life\nI wish they would love me like I like they pictures\nI wish I had bitches\nI wish I had motivation to get money\nAin\u2019t it funny, my rainy day would be sunny\nIf I had the vision of currency fallin' above from the sky\nFallin' above from the sky, listen up\nEverybody looking for the meaning of life through a cell phone screen\nEverybody looking for the meaning of life through a cell phone screen\nEverybody think that the meaning of life is, life is\nEverybody, everybody, woo\nEverybody think that the meaning of life is\nYou might also like\nAss, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs all the things that I turned out to be\nAss, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs everything that I like, like, like, like\nAss, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs all the things that I turned out to be\nAss, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs everything that I like, like, like, like\nOh, I know it\u2019s hard, I know it\u2019s hard like\nI know that\u2019s the reason you turn up at night\nLivin' yo' life, just livin' yo' life\nCan\u2019t nobody tell you how to do it right\nCome away with me, come away with me\nLet me take you from this world of insanity\nCome away with me, come away with me\nFar away from flying bullets on this killing spree\nOh, I know, I know\nIt\u2019s hard, yeah, it\u2019s hard, yeah, yeah\nI know it\u2019s hard sometimes\nIt\u2019s hard sometimes\nAss, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs all the things that I turned out to be\nAss, titties, pussy, money, weed\nEverywhere I look a killing spree\nAll the things they wanted me to be\nIs everything that I like, like, like, like"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, SlayDro!\nThis that J Dilla right here\nBadu, Indica Badu\nYeah, that's right...\n\nRiding 'round the city with my homies, blowing trees\nWavy like the Seven Seas, living life, let me get it right\nLet me give it a minute to get up in it like a beautiful independent woman that's finna make you wait to smash\nCome now, let me count this cash\nCome now, let me sip this flask\nPockets fat like shawty ass\nJump in the whip, gotta get this gas\nPut that shit in drive, I'm live like ammunition\nNo permission needed, I proceeded to accelerate\nHad days with hella hate, but gotta let that anger migrate\nAll this shit that's on my plate\nThat food for thought that can't be bought\nBut only taught, and on the real, know\n\nI can't get much higher, been smoking that fire\nRiding 'round the city with my homies that know me\nKnow that I can't get much higher, word to my supplier\nWhile you break it, roll it, light it, use that fire, ignite it\nI can't get much higher, been smoking that fire\nRiding 'round the city with my homies that know me\nKnow that I can't get much higher, word to my supplier\nWhile you break it, roll it, light it, use that fire, ignite it\nI can't get much higher\u2014\nYou might also like\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nNigga, like we smoking all weekend\nAnd I roll and smoke when I'm drinkin'\nTell them open that door but don't peek in\nWe be havin' a OG Kush meetin'\nIf we smokin' that dope, it's a reason\nEyes so low from the chiefin'\nI be getting high when I wake up\nAnd roll me one more 'fore I'm sleeping\nMan, I be smoking so good that I be forgetting the past\nIt don't even come to my house\nIf it ain't wrapped up in a turkey bag\nWe roll up the herb and laugh, kick back, blow a zip\nTake it on a plane, know I smoke the same when I'm on a trip\nNigga like me always got weed on 'em (got weed on 'em)\nTry to tell me that she don't smoke, later on she joinin'\nAin't no point, no I'm back, keep going in\nYou been rolling with cats, who boring\nI be bringing them stacks enormous\nSection always in the back important\nBad bitch gorgeous, pack imported\n\nI can't get much higher, been smoking that fire\nRiding 'round the city with my homies that know me\nKnow that I can't get much higher, word to my supplier\nWhile you break it, roll it, light it, use that fire, ignite it\nI can't get much higher, been smoking that fire\nRiding 'round the city with my homies that know me\nKnow that I can't get much higher, word to my supplier\nWhile you break it, roll it, light it, use that fire, ignite it\nI can't get much higher\u2014\nUh, yeah, I'm finna get up in the feeling\nIndependent feeling like a boss\nRoll a little something, smoke a little something\nKick back and then floss\nChiefin' that Indica in the cut, tell my anxiety to get lost\nFuck a pill, only numb the pain\nMan, you know how much that shit cost?\nI ain't talking 'bout your pocket\nNo, I am only talking about the mind\nWhen the cannabis combine with the brain\nIt be like everything you see, it seem to shine\nSmoking that Golden State, everything going great\nGot a lot on my plate, not a single complaint\nStack of money in the bank\nThis that RattPack and that Taylor Gang\nThey know the face and they know the name\nI'm a married man with a bad wife\nNever fuck around unless it's Mary Jane\nCome play the game, honestly never the same\nJust like my flow, got one for every occasion\nLiving the life so my life is amazing, woo\n\nI can't get much higher, been smoking that fire\nRiding 'round the city with my homies that know me\nKnow that I can't get much higher, word to my supplier\nWhile you break it, roll it, light it, use that fire, ignite it\nI can't get much higher, been smoking that fire\nRiding 'round the city with my homies that know me\nKnow that I can't get much higher, word to my supplier\nWhile you break it, roll it, light it, use that fire, ignite it\nI can't get much higher\u2014\nYeah, and if you don't know by now\u2014I smoke weed!\n\"Hahahaha,\" how Wiz gonna give me the verse\nHe ain't gonna give me the laugh though?\n\"Hahahaha,\" that shit iconic\nYeah, yeah, yeah, Indica Badu"}
{"text":"Living like this is so crazy, this world is amazing\nOne day you're on top and the next she having your baby\nLiving life like this I get down, uh, when they come around, uh\nI do my best to fall back and not, not make a sound\nFeel like my mind gone but I'm still here\nDon't fuck around cause they kill here\nThis music, it kill fear\nI use it, when I need to hear\nBeen there, done that\nDrop the shit, they gon' run it back\nSimple shit, man I'm done with that\nFake rap, take it back\nMy chain heavy, got a lot of money\nMy bitch bad, have fun with that\nI've been there and don't want it back\nIf I see the bitch I might run it back\nCause I'm gone, so long, I'm gone, so long\nI'm gone, so long, I'm gone, so long, I'm gone\nDrink, smoke, vibe, fuck, chill, drive, talk, think about it\nDrink, smoke, vibe, fuck, chill, drive, talk, think about it\n\nSo what now? (So what now?)\nLet's get down\u2014let's get drowned, on this vision\nMy division is the greatest that's around\nFeel the vibe (feel the vibe)\nThis is where I'ma be for as long as I'm alive\nI could vibe with this, fuck around and die for this\nBut would you ride for this? Better ride, no lie for this\nThey say \"what's your motivation?\"\nCutting these records like back in the basement\nBoy, fuck a vacation\nWe do this for love, not no validation\nYou might also like\nLiving like this is so crazy, this world is amazing\nOne day you're on top and the next she having your baby\nLiving life like this I get down, uh, when they come around, uh\nI do my best to fall back and not, not make a sound\nI'm gone, so long, I'm gone, so long\nI'm gone, so long, I'm gone, so long, I'm gone\nDrink, smoke, vibe, fuck, chill, drive, talk, think about it\nDrink, smoke, vibe, fuck, chill, drive, talk, think about it\n\nWanna get it like this\n(I think so) when I'm driving\n(I drink slow) when I'm vibing\n(You never know, know, know, know) (Lets go!)\nI got it, posted up at the crib with something exotic\nI don't smoke but she love to smoke\nAnd look good as fuck when she light it\nWhen she ride it, it's crazy, love when I get inside it\nBaby stop tryna hide it, if the feeling's there then abide it\nBaby girl, where you been? I don't know\nI feel like this is the moment, I mean it feel like it don't it?\nShit girl I know that you want it\u2014but fuck all that\nTake the time to get down, stop all that running around\nI'm feeling you feeling me, know that you into me\nBaby girl let me get down, cause my mind gone\nThat's the type of shit that I'm on\nGrip the mic and I go (Whoo!)\nFuck around with this flow (I know)\nLiving like this is so crazy, this world is amazing\nOne day you're on top and the next she having your baby\nLiving life like this I get down, uh, when they come around, uh\nI do my best to fall back and not, not make a sound\nI'm gone, so long, I'm gone, so long\nI'm gone, so long, I'm gone, so long, I'm gone\nDrink, smoke, vibe, fuck, chill, drive, talk, think about it\nDrink, smoke, vibe, fuck, chill, drive, talk, think about it\n\nMaking a single before your album is like putting together a trailer for a movie you have yet to shoot"}
{"text":"Yeah, I've been killin' this shit\nYeah, I've been hard in the paint, not a single assist\nYeah, I've been flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've been cookin' that shit, now they fuckin' with this\nYeah, I've been killin' this shit\nYeah, I've been hard in the paint, not a single assist\nYeah, I've been flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've been cookin' that shit, now they fuckin' with this\nYeah, I've been, yeah I've been killin' this, killin' this shit\nYeah, I've been flickin' that, flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've been killin' this, cookin' that\nKillin' this, flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've killin' this shit\nYeah, I've hard in the paint, not a single assist\nYeah, I've flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've cookin' that shit, now they fuckin' with this\n\nLet me tell you 'bout the young man\nMatter of fact, I'ma let Push tell that\nTell you 'bout the old man\nHad a change of heart and then fell back\nOld man lived a long life\nWalked around with a long knife\nYou ain't cut the white like Jesus\nThat Colombiana, that's mi hermanos (YUGH)\nLook at the flick of that wrist\nI'm feelin' like Leonardo\nLet me paint a picture, I might need a bottle\nOn the road to success, I could feel the throttle\nThat Michelangelo, hundreds in the envelope\nTight shit when I write shit\nAnd that old man had a change of heart\nWish he knew it back from the start like goddamn\nLooked around, seen his wife on the ground\nMilitary bussin' bullets all over the whole compound\nSoon as he seen it, I swear it, I mean it, my members go quicker than vamonos\nHe dead, she dead, he in jail\nEveryone fallin' like dominoes\nYou might also like\nYeah, I've been killin' this shit\nYeah, I've been hard in the paint, not a single assist\nYeah, I've been flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've been cookin' that shit, now they fuckin' with this\nYeah, I've been killin' this shit\nYeah, I've been hard in the paint, not a single assist\nYeah, I've been flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've been cookin' that shit, now they fuckin' with this\nYeah, I've been, yeah I've been killin' this, killin' this shit\nYeah, I've been flickin' that, flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've been killin' this, cookin' that\nKillin' this, flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've killin' this shit\nYeah, I've hard in the paint, not a single assist\nYeah, I've flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've cookin' that shit, now they fuckin' with this\n\nSimple logic\nClockwise, counterclockwise, realest nigga in the top five\nOther four ain't rap niggas, I'm just reppin' for the blow side\nYuugh, that's coastlines, Panama for the boat rides\nWorth billions, and we ain't even need Showtime\nJust money counters and kitchenwear\nCondo with a bitch in there\nTwo scales and baggies, we got rich in there, woo!\nThe Rollie's been the trophy since Hawaiian Sophie\nCurry over Kobe, we shootin' niggas\nSplash brothers with the coca, add in baking soda\nGoodfellas to my niggas (Yuugh) all Ray Liottas\nShades of blue, I aim at you\nLet the sky fall, let it rain on you\nYeah, I've been killin' this shit\nYeah, I've been hard in the paint, not a single assist\nYeah, I've been flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've been cookin' that shit, now they fuckin' with this\nYeah, I've been killin' this shit\nYeah, I've been hard in the paint, not a single assist\nYeah, I've been flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've been cookin' that shit, now they fuckin' with this\nYeah, I've been, yeah I've been killin' this, killin' this shit\nYeah, I've been flickin' that, flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've been killin' this, cookin' that\nKillin' this, flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've killin' this shit\nYeah, I've hard in the paint, not a single assist\nYeah, I've flickin' that wrist\nYeah, I've cookin' that shit, now they fuckin' with this"}
{"text":"Get 'em!\n\nLiving life on the East Coast\nWay back in the day trying to beat most\nAnybody that wanna do what I do\nWell let me keep it one hunnid with you\nIt ain't about that; ain't about Hip Hop, ain't about Rap\nTake a minute, hold up, wait, now use your cap\nChicago, know I'ma snap\nNah, this ain't no basic rap\n\nAnd so they wonder who am I\u2014so high (So high)\nI said they wonder who am I\u2014so high\n\nBack again, never outside so I'm acting in\nI laugh again when they don't understand\nWhat I mean, bias; everybody seen by us\nEverybody wanna live a life like this\nMan fuck that, do what's good for your family\nMake music like there's no Grammy\nFor that last line, they might ban me\nI don't give a fuck though\n'Cause I am me, from Beijing to Miami\nI'ma just do what I do with my crew\nAin\u2019t no telling what I'm finna do\nBut I promise that I'ma keep writing for you\nAnd I know what to do, everything right here for you\nOnly for you, depending on what you gon' do\nIt's all for you\u2014it's all for you\nYou might also like\nWho am I\u2014so high (So high)\nI said they wonder who am I\u2014so high\nLet me take this time to find the rhyme\nAnd know that I'm the only one\nTo find the one, the time is done\nBeyond the sky, beyond the sun\nThere is no one besides the only one\nAnd you know I gotta let 'em know\nIf you love it, let it go\nAt an all-time low and all I know is, all I know\nI do what I love, came from below and then rose up above\nCreated a world no one has been to\nEverything that I'm into, everything that I've been through\nBring it back like, let it shine like a Bat Light\nReminiscing on that night, gotta take flight\nEverybody probably wonder what I'm living like\nIn the middle of the night, I might write\nDespite what they say is right and wrong\nDespite they wonder (Wonder)\n\nWho am I\u2014so high (So high)\nI said they wonder who am I\u2014so high\nWe'd like to be painters, we'd like to be poets. We'd like to be writers, but as everybody knows\u2014we can't earn any money that way. What do you want to do? When we finally got down to something which the individual says he really wants to do, I will say to him you do that\u2014and uh\u2014forget the money. If you say that getting the money is the most important thing, you will spend your life completely wasting your time...\nYou'll be doing things you don't like doing in order to go on living, that is to go on doing things you don\u2019t like doing, which is stupid! It is absolutely stupid! Better to have a short life that is full of what you like doing than a long life spent in a miserable way. And after all, if you do really like what you\u2019re doing, it doesn't matter what it is\u2014somebody is interested in everything\u2014anything you can be interested in, you will find others who are...\nBut, it's absolutely stupid to spend your time doing things you don't like and to teach our children to follow in the same track. See, what we are doing is, is we're bringing up children and educating them to live the same sort of lives we are living\u2014in order that they may justify themselves and find satisfaction in life, by bringing up their children, to bring up \"their\" children, to do the same thing. So, it's all retch and no vomit\u2014it never gets there. Therefore, it's so important to consider this question...\n\"What do I desire?\"\n\nThe Incredible True Story\nAnd Transformation of the Man Who Saved the World\n\n\nSurface contact in 400 meters...\nTime of day is 6:28 Constant Meridian\nOxygen: 100%\nTemperature is 17 degrees Celsius\nMan... what are the chances that there's some big-ass creature out there that's going to eat us?\n100%\n(Laughter)\n\nFuck...\n\nClear skies\u2014\nKai, which Tarantino film do you think Logic liked best?\nI would definitely have to probably have to say Kill Bill\nMan, stylistically he's like\u2014what\u2019s the name of that bitch? The lead character? I forgot her name, but he's like that bitch\u2014with like some Kung-Fu shit he's like with his raps. It's fucking crazy!\nYou know in\u2014in Pulp Fiction I mean\u2014the way Tarantino constructed his shots, it's the same feel for me with his raps you know? There's thought behind it...\nNo, I could see that, I could see that but...\nBut nah man, fuck that man! Kill Bill was the shit!!\nEspecially like knives throwing and dodging and shit\u2014and then fucking hot chicks fucking fighting each other and cutting each other's heads off! What the fuck is that?!\n\nYeah, fuck it\u2014\n\nPrepare for surface landing!\n\nYou're right, hot chicks and Kung-Fu, can't beat that...\n\nYeah, can't beat that at all...\nSurface contact in:\n10... 9... 8... 7... 6...\n5... 4... 3... 2... 1!\n\nAre you ready for this?\n\nAre you?\n(Sounds of birds chirping, air, etc.)\n\nWait, wait\u2014what's that sound?\n(Sounds grow, then abruptly stop)\n\nLife..."}
{"text":"Bruh, yo (Nah sayin'? It was somethin' that-)\nGuess who I met last night, man\nYou know your land-, land chick? The fuck (Woo)\nOh, yeah, man (Ayy dog, I don't know, man)\nNow that chick bad last night (God-damn-, fat ass), bruh\nShe just run up on me like, \"Yo\" (What?)\nNah mean? We talkin' and shit- (Crazy)\nWe gotta-we gotta stay- (Blap-blap!)\nOh, we heard man\nIt was cool, opp (For sure), you know, got crazy, so I had to let 'em out\n(Yeah, faggot-)\nCrazy thing that I heard, the homie say he ran around the corner from here\n(Is that right?) Right around the corner, nah mean? (Boy, wait-wait-wait)\n(Right around the corner?) Nah mean? (It's on, it's on!)\nSort that new life, he should look out (I'm gon' kill a nigga tonight)\nOkay (I'm like-) (I mean if-) (Shit)\nIf somethin' go down, man, we ready, man, ain't-\n(Nobody-nobody) and we ready, the whole hood ready (This car creeping)\n(Looks brazy-) damn, oh shit!- (Oh, shit!)\nGo, go, go-! (In the roof!) go-!\nUh, yeah, outside I can hear 'em bussin', bussin'\nAnd the police they rushin'\nGo to my head like concussion\nI'd rather not have this discussion\nMy mind racing for the elevation of the toxic in my blood\nWhere my mind, don\u2019t know now\nBut I know where it was\nI need Nikki, where is Nikki?\nBaby girl, please come and get me\nNow I\u2019m old and shit is trippy, but I know that God is with me\nThis that baby mama drama\nGive a fuck about a man, I know I'ma\nBe there for my son, talking with my sister, it begun\nEnd of the month, that\u2019s the worst of the month\nBut the first of the month put the weed in the blunt\nThat welfare check, check\nWon\u2019t ever bounce like my daddy did\nBut I\u2019m glad he did 'cause it made me strong\nMade me help somebody with this song\nPaint the picture of my life\nGrowing up what it was like\nSection 8, grab a plate\nFood for thought, gravitate\nFood stamps, Social Services tryna take me away\nMy mama locked up, I pray to God that I see her today\nMaybe not, maybe so; West Deer Park, that\u2019s all I know\nJust me and my homies, people that know me\nOnly ones that know\nAround my way (Around my way)\nLiving day by day (Living day by day)\nCorn rows and hang time, automatics and gang signs\nFive-O with them K-9's\nManhunt when it's game time\nThey was robbing the ice cream man in broad day\nNow I\u2019m running from the police\nDon\u2019t know how, but I got away\nSelling weed to my homies\nAnd a girl in the building that know me\nAt 15, such a fiend, for the shit, that I seen\nAll my homies smoking green, fucking bitches, sipping lean\nIt was king, it was cool, seemed like something I should do\nSuch a youngin, such a fool\nNow I\u2019m breaking into school\n'Cause my homie told me to\nWhat to do, what would you?\nWhen will I lose my anonymity\nAnd become one with the enemy?\nTell me, would I be the enemy?\nFeel like nobody in front of me\nI can feel the vibe\nYou might also like\nBobby, what are you thinking?\nWhat are you dreaming about?\nBobby, what\u2019s inside?\nWhat are you thinking right now?\nWhat are you thinking?\nGo to sleep\n\nI guess maybe I was thinking things would be different now\n'Cause when I wake up, my dreams fade\nEverything cascade\nIn this vanilla sky, I feel like David Aames\nWhy must I open my eyes?\nI wish I could stay asleep forever\nAttain every goal I wanted and watch it repeat forever\nWill it happen? Maybe never\nMaybe so, I got to know\u2014but tell me why, uh\nI picture myself at the top but I know that I\u2019m dreaming\nWill I wake up before I finally confront all my demons?\nMaybe not\u2014All I know is this life I live\nI can\u2019t live it no longer\nWish I was stronger, wish that I could survive\nTurn on the TV, let it wash my brain\nPretend that family\u2019s my family to avoid the pain\nHello children, how was school?\nIt was good, how 'bout you?\nI love you (I love you, son), I love mama too\nAre you ready for dinner?\nI\u2019m able to set the table\n'Til I snap out the fable when that TV turn off\nAnd I realize I\u2019m back in hell\n(Bobby...)\nLogic has recorded 1700 songs in the span of his\n10 years as an MC. However, only just over\n150 have been released to the public..."}
{"text":"My name is Paul Rothenberg, Attorney of Law...\nAnd I hereby ratify and confirm that Logic is motherfucking paid\n\nCan't nothin' stop me, I'm on a roll (I'm on a roll!)\nAlways on time 'cause my eyes is on my Rollie-olex\nI don't trust nobody, oh no (No, no, no!)\nI don't trust nobody, put my homies on the payroll\nFuck with me now or you'll never know (Never know!)\nIf you weren't with me, in the beginning, you get no love (No love!)\nMy name Bobby Tarantino (Tarantino! Yeah)\nLogic ain't here right now, leave a message if you want, ho\n\nHold it, bring it back, uh, I'ma call you back, uh\nToo busy countin' stacks, uh\nPickin' up the slack (Slack)\nI was born in the trap (Trap), chains on, cooked crack (Crack)\nLogic never wanna flex, but Bobby finna bring the facts\nPut my city on the map, fuck with the gang, get attacked\nIt ain't a thing, RattPack, nobody know about that\nBitch, I been gunnin', comin' for the throne\nAnd I know that they talking, can't fuck with the tone\nTalkin' shit 'bout Logic, I never respond\nI'll let success talk, 'cause a word of advice:\nMore achievements for yourself and less talk\nCats beef with Logic, yeah, they prayin' I respond\nIf I ever did, I dead you in this game with no respawn\nPeace, love, and positivity, that's all I want with you\nBut you push the issue 'cause I give you more press than your publicist could ever get you\nHell nah, fuck rap, fuck beef\nAnyone that hate me, I wish you success\nI wish you look in the mirror and ask yourself why you suppressed\nThe feelin's of self-hatred that you want project on me\nBet if I never picked up the mic, then we might be homies\nBut you jealous, you look at my life and you feel envy\nConstantly comparing yourself to me and feel empty\nMost people that don't fuck wit' me ain't never shook my hand\nI'm a good man, yeah, I love myself\nI know who I am, yeah, I love myself\nThey don't understand\nBut no matter what happen you know that\u2013\nYou might also like\nCan't nothing stop me, I'm on a roll (I'm on a roll)\nAlways on time 'cause my eyes is on my Rollie-olex (Woo!)\nI don't trust nobody, oh no (No, no, no!)\nI don't trust nobody, put my homies on the payroll\nFuck with me now or you'll never know, uh (Never know!)\nIf you weren't with me, in the beginning, you get no love (No love!)\nMy name Bobby Tarantino (Tarantino!)\nLogic ain't here right now, leave a message if you want, ho (Leave a message, ho!)\nHi! It's uh\u2014Logic? Hi, sorry. It's Elton John calling you! Um, I hope you don't mind me getting you on your mobile\u2013or not getting on your mobile, but I was just, uh\u2014congratulating you first of all on your performance at the Grammys and then I was asking you\u2014I was gonna ask you if you'd like to do something for me, and I will ring you back later and see\u2014and talk about it, thanks!"}
{"text":"89 ContributorsLord Willin\u2019 Lyrics\nOkay now, this how I'm feeling, lately I'm like the villain\nCause while they on that other shit\nI been posted, out here chillin'\nLord willin', I'll survive, but not like that 9 to 5\nYou know this that shit that you bumpin'\nIn your whip while you drive\nI've been living life and I hope that you do the same\n'Cause if you ain't doing what you love, it's only you to blame\nCome on I've been through the game\n'Bout time that they know my name\nNumb it down for the pain, this music my Novocaine\nLord willin' we overcame, it's time to get over man\nI've been around the world and back\nAnd I swear it's all the same\nAnd what I learned; a prophet don't do it for the profit\nGon' get off it, check the topic\nWatch me drop it, can you top it?\nI don't know I've been at it on the low\nNever did it like this here before\nBut I'm still here and I just hope\nI'll make a difference, make a killin', Lord willin'\n\nLord willin', make a difference\nLord willin'\u2014uh, Lord willin'\nYou might also like\nI tell 'em, \"Hold on\" (Hold on)\nAnd yeah you know that I gotta bring it back again\nAnd I tell 'em, \"Hold on\" (Hold on)\nI don't understand what's happening\nAnd so I tell 'em, \"Hold on\" (Hold on)\nAnd yeah you know that I gotta bring it back again\nAnd I tell 'em, \"Hold on\" (Hold on)\nI don't understand what's happening\nSo I tell em\u2014\n\nI guess I'm back at it; I ain't done, I ain't had it\nIf I was underground before then this is me in my attic\nFor this rap shit I'm an addict, but can't fuck with that dramatic\nI've been busting my ass, they probably think it's automatic\nYes sir, I've done this shit before\nLike your baby momma momma\nI'ma tell 'em like it is, I'ma tell 'em like it is\nLife ain't picture perfect, we use the negatives to develop\nI'm well up, I'm way up\nNothing but net, fuck the layup, I'm way up\nBitches losing calories out here jumping to conclusions\nCan't fuck with they delusions, I'm on that 101 cruisin'\nOkay, way back in the day I rap in a way\nBut no not quite like this, living like that\nIn a way, guess you could say made me wanna write like this\nNot quite like this, on my level, I'm unique and I'm a rebel\nLike you listening? I hope that you're listening\nThis feel like it's summertime; waiting for the bus\nNumber nine, through the city all alone\nNot a worry, not your phone\nWe just vibing, maybe flying 'round the world\nMan, I hope you see the world\nAnd all your dreams will unfurl\nJust don't never cash your pearl\nGo out there and make a livin', take this advice that I'm givin'\nMake a difference, make a killin', make a killin', Lord willin'\nLord willin', make a difference\nLord willin', Lord willin'\n\nI tell 'em, \"Hold on\" (Hold on)\nAnd yeah you know that I gotta bring it back again\nAnd I tell 'em, \"Hold on\" (Hold on)\nI don't understand what's happening\nAnd so I tell 'em, \"Hold on\" (Hold on)\nAnd yeah you know that I gotta bring it back again\nAnd I tell 'em, \"Hold on\" (Hold on)\nI don't understand what's happening\nSo I tell em\u2014"}
{"text":"East side, west side, we ride, we die, everyone knows\nEveryone knows, everyone knows\nEast side, west side, we ride, we die, everyone knows\nEveryone knows, everyone knows deez nuts\n\nTell me what you know about forty days, forty nights\nNo lights, all for this\nTell me what you know about sleeping outside\nNo ride in the wintertime, all for this\nTell me what you know about commas in the bank\nLookin' in the mirror, yeah, I did all of this\nX you out, you get solved with this\nEverybody know I...\n\nI'm a slave\nI'm a slave\nYou a slave (Yeah)\nYou a slave (Alright)\nI'm a slave for this shit\nI'm a slave (Yeah)\nYou a slave (Alright)\nI'm a slave\nYou got to slave for this shit\nYou might also like\nWalk inside of Def Jam\nStep on the president table and dap 'em up with the left hand\n'Cause I'm countin' money with the right\nIn a different city every night\nAnd I'm sellin' records like it's white\nIt's another day, another flight\nParis in the morning, L.A. at night\nWhat a beautiful sight\nNow tell me who be fuckin' with me, alright?\nEverybody know I'm livin' this life\nEveryone know I got the baddest wife\nThis shit right here, everybody gonna like\nHold up, I know what I, know what I like\nTell me why everybody in the pipe\n'Cause I'm the only one doin' it right\nI'm a rap genius like Rob Markman\nSpent a couple of million on my new apartment\nDown in Manhattan, that's a multi-million dollar view\nAnd I got it from rappin'\nDamn everyone nappin' on the boy, heh, shit\nI'm not a mad rapper, but what?\nI'm angrier than Kanye\nAngrier than Kanye when he talkin' about clothes\nThat's a fashion line\nAnd my last album went number one\nSo what that mean?\nI did better than you, you, you\nSold way more than that pop bitch\nAnd I dare Def Jam to drop this\nI just drop hits\nCheck the Instagram fam\nI got fifty-thousand people in the crowd, singin' out loud\nEvery word, that's every lyric\nYou can hate, shit, just stop actin' like you don't hear it\nThis shit right here for the party\nThat album that comin', that's shit for the spirit, woo!\n5-0 triple-"}
{"text":"It's that Young Sinatra IV shit right here\n(Rest in peace Mac Miller)\nIt's been like 10 years\nHere we go (Yeah)\n\nVisualizin' and realizin' my life is fuckin' crazy\nPoppin' like JAY-Z, Dirty Dancin' on the game like Swayze\nI'm one of the illest and bitch\nI've been ready to kill it, it's so amazing\nBitch, I've been blazin', I'm talkin' grass, I ain't talkin' grazing\nThey just hit the tape while I sip scotch\nLet the haters kick rocks, my shit is tip-top\nI never flip-flop, why? 'Cause my soul too strong\nDid this all on my own, 'cause waiting took too long\nThe flow sophisticated\nAll these youngins do is whine like they inebriated\nI'm hated, but yeah, that's how you know I made it\nI'm one of the illest, I'm one of the realest, I'm ready to kill this\nThe people, they feel us, me and my team made millions\nBut you know we still us\nThat's why they wanna kill us, that's why they wanna kill us\nRattPack, real all the time, we never phony\nI'm single-handedly running the game like a Sony\nWhile the rest of these rappers is acting\nPass 'em the Tony, pass 'em the Oscar\nFrom the new school rappers, yeah I'm the illest on the roster\nSmoke like a rasta\nBlack and white like Bob Marley, yeah, like Bob Marley\nThese racist motherfuckers hate that last line\nProbably haters on the internet ain't got nothing to bargain\nSaid I'd never make it, bitch, I just sold out the Garden\nYou might also like\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we sip scotch\nLike Sinatra, screamin', \"Motherfuck the cops\"\n\nThey say they want the old Logic, the one that flow like a faucet I'm still the same me, they just don't believe it like they agnostic\nIf I spit over the boom-bap, then they perceive it as nostalgic\nBut the truth is, my subject matter has been the same\nAnd my production selection is still flame\nBut they love you on the come up 'cause you ain't tainted by fame And you still they little secret\nThat's the type of bullshit that they frequent\nFrom 19, to 2019, been murderin' this shit for a decade\nFrom the boom-bap to the trap, I let my shits cascade (Listen, yeah, yeah)\nSo what's the dealy? Pass the Phillie, get silly, that's on the really\nWe snappin' like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, I'm talkin' achilles\nTry to play me like I ain't me, but I provided all the deets'\nWho you know worth 50 million, still rappin on break beats?\nFrom Nasty Nas, Big-L, Tribe, The Roots, and many more\nOf course we could never forget Biggie and young Shakur\nFuck the police, no we ain't fuckin' with Al Pastor\nI'm the bastard that mastered the flow, I said it once before fa' sho'\nWhile 6ix produce the kicks from the soul, you already know\nFuck these youngins talking outta they ass with no class\nI'm here to school 'em\nThis that real shit, I'm never foolin'\nI'm killin' these squares, we call it a massacre\nI got the bread, but these fuckers need the dough like a baker\nThe legends above me love me like the RZA, like Nas, like Jay 'Cause I mastered the flow from back in the day\nRespected by my peers from Drizzy to Cole to Kenny\nThank you for the love and inspiration plenty\nYeah, I'm loved by many, and only hated by a little\nNow I think it's time to switch to lyricism, peep the riddle\nI was born in mint condition, I'm everybody's life's mission\nAll right, listen, put me 'round your neck and I might glisten\nThe ultimate connect, I'll get you anything you need\nFrom good credit to good weed\nI can make any woman succeed\nControl you with a heart of greed\nAlong with anybody that's in need, I'll make 'em beg and plead\nI'm in the pocket of mafia crime lords and presidents\nWithout me, they'll evict you from your residence\nHov wrote about me on \"Dead Presidents,\" never irrelevant\nNot a soul on earth would love me if I weren't me\nNo matter what year I'm in, I'm current, see?\nPeople that have me, yeah, they power's so immense\nBut people without me, make no sense, god damn\nYeah, the world revolve around me, the law evolve around me\nThe shit people do to get a piece of me astound me\nBlood stains my face when drug deals go wrong\nI'm given to the greatest athletes when they go long\nYou could put me in check\nBut I'm still laughing all the way to the bank\nI'm the reason that the Titanic sank\nI'm always there for you, yeah, when it comes down to the wire And some people even tuck me away 'til they retire\nI usually come around on the first and fifteenth\nIf you owe me to somebody then they'll leave you beneath\nPeople go crazy when they feel me\nIn the Middle East they drill me\nIf you let your guard down, then some people'll steal me\nI knew these two dudes that's always been homies since fifth grade\nAlways schemin' on the block, selling crack to get paid\nNow they never graduated, thought that shit a charade\nOnly thing on they mind that wasn't me was get laid\nThen one day, they had a falling out on the block\nSee, one thought the other one had been stealing his rock\n'Cause he coulda sworn he had more weight in his stock\nPulled out the Glock and his homie yelled, \"Stop!\"\nBut before he had the chance to pull the trigger\nOh shit here come the cops\nThey saw the gun and blew them both away\nNow there's two more kids dead in the street all before twenty Over me, the most important thing to man: money\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we get high\n'Cause you never know when you're gonna go\nLife's a bitch and then you die, that's why we sip scotch\nLike Sinatra, screamin', \"Motherfuck the cops\"\n\nWe just some motherfuckin' kids\nWe just some motherfuckin' kids\n\nWe love and m -iss you, Mac\nFor those of y'all who don't know man, Mac is the whole reason that I started doing this Young Sinatra shit. I remember I loved Lord Finesse, all the shit he did with DITC, Diggin in the Crates. \"Hip to the Game\", one of like\u2014one of the illest beats ever and I remember when Mac flipped that shit for Kool-Aid and Frozen Pizza\u2014I thought it was the dopest shit man. Mac showed me that I could just do it all on my own\u2014me and all my boys, all my homies\u2014 and if it wasn't for him killing that beat I would have never got on that beat for my very first mixtape Young Broke and Infamous. Damn... that's like 2010. And I titled the track \"Young Sinatra.\" And that was the birth of all this shit. So, thank you, I appreciate you, love you and miss you, yeah\nYeah, we just some motherfuckin' kids"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsOvernight Lyrics\nYeah, maybe this should just be the intro, like this\nThat's it, squad, bitch\n\nAll these bad bitches say they love me, I already know\nCheck the- check the bling that's on my finger 'cause I'm married, ho\nThere he go, everybody know that boy's pockets is swole\nWhat's good? That sound familiar, never been here befo'\nLife good, 'cause I just got quoted two hundred a show\nOh no, oh no, two hundred a show\nOvernight, all this money that I've been makin', I gave it right back\nTo all of the people that made me, you know we like that\nDon't know why your bitch wanna date me, but I can't fight that\nGuess you ain't done shit for her lately, not on the right track\nIf I think that shit sound good, I gotta write that\nWeed man knockin' on the door, I'll be right back\nPass the shit to 6ix, watch him light that\nHit the studio, record the shit, then mix the shit, then master it\nAnd then we do the show and they recite that\nBitch, I'm right back, told 'em 'bout my life, told 'em 'bout my life\nTold 'em I was broke as fuck too many nights\nNow I see my name up on so many lights, but everybody prolly think this shit done happen\u2013happen\u2013happen\n\nOvernight, people think this how this shit happened, but they never right\nActing like they got it, they got it, but they never quite seem to understand that this right here deeper than all that\nHustlin' the streets like they trap over\u2013over\u2013overnight\nPeople think this how this shit happened, but they never right\nActing like they got it, they got it, but they never quite seem to understand that this right here deeper than all that\nHustlin' the streets like they trappin' and burnin' (Woo, woo)\nYou might also like\nTell me how you really feel, how you really feel\nAll they ever do is hate the boy, but now they know the name\nTell me how you really feel, how you really feel\nAll they ever do is hate the boy, but now I run the game\nTell me how you really feel, how you really feel\nYou can hate now all you want, but shit won't ever be the same\nTell me how you really feel, how you really feel\nYou can hate me, but I'm not the reason that your life is lame\n\nTell me, is it really so hard?\nReally so hard, to be a good person?\nTell me, is it really so hard?\nReally so hard, to stop acting like a bitch? (Woo!)\nI treated everybody with respect and now I'm rich (Woo!)\nI treated everybody with respect\nMaybe you got issues with your daddy, doe\nMaybe you was bullied back in high school\nMaybe you are just a tool\n\nMaybe you're the reason, you're the reason\nThe reason I don't fuck with nobody, and\nMaybe you're the reason, you're the reason\nThe reason I came up with nobody, and\nMaybe you're the reason, you're the reason\nEverybody think this right here happened\nOvernight, people think this how this shit happened, but they never right\nActing like they got it, they got it, but they never quite seem to understand that this right here deeper than all that\nHustlin' the streets like they trap over\u2013over\u2013overnight\nPeople think this how this shit happened, but they never right\nActing like they got it, they got it, but they never quite seem to understand that this right here deeper than all that\nHustlin' the streets like they trappin' and burnin' down, shit"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsYoung Sinatra III Lyrics\n(Visualizing the realism of life in actuality)\nVarious women, I'm swimming in, like a shark\nHip-hop heads never die, we multiply then dominate\n(Visualizing the realism of life in actuality)\nC'mon this sound, it had to come from somewhere, right?\nUh, yeah\n\nVarious listeners is wishing us death\nDon't give a damn, I'm reppin' Young Sinatra till my last breath\nEasily my darkest confession is lyrical aggression\nThrough indiscretion that triggers anti-depression\nWhen addressin' my profession in every session\nThe fact that I'm alive is such a blessing\nSippin' wine while these honeys undressin'\nWhat I'm about to say is highly confidential\nAnd in the music industry today, very essential\nSo bust out your pencil, you can do it on your own\nStop thinking that these labels is the ones that put you on\nLet's change the topic, who's your favorite rapper?\nI'm the top pick, ha\nThe flow is elegant, never irrelevant\nHow many times must I say this?\nCock back and spray this, never delay this\nI pray this, reaches the masses\nAnd spread like cancer on they asses\nNow allow me to catch wreck, bust rhymes like Tech\nPut me in your box and I destroy the deck\nYou might also like\n(Life's a bitch and then you die)\nI used to bust tables, now I bust rhymes\nThat buck that bought a bottle\n(Life's a bitch and then you die)\nI swear to God, I'm the reincarnated Young Sinatra\n(Life's a bitch and then you die)\nI used to bust tables, now I bust rhymes\nThat buck that bought a bottle\n(Life's a bitch and then you die)\nI swear to God, I'm the reincarnated Young Sinatra\n\nWhipin' through Cabo in a Murcielago\nDodging paparazzi with the finest dime I met in Chicago\nThe baddest Bobbysoxer that you ever seen, reppin' my team\nWe real all the time, so my squad keen, bing\nDave, it's me Sinatra and my boy Dean\nThe way we (Winning) I can't believe there isn't a Sheen\nAnd pregnant women listen and they give birth to a fiend\nI spit narcotic epidemic all up in your genes\nIn layman's terms, I disperse a verse you never seen\nAssassinate rappers the moment that they intervene\nWhile you in the alley playing dice\nI'm in the yacht contemplating plans for the next diamond heist\nArt thieves and jewel connoisseurs\nI study every part of they mind and make my rhyme better than yours\nElevated by being hated, sleeping on the brother like they heavily sedated\nSome say I'm one in a million, I say I'm one of a kind\nOnly cocky when I rhyme, I'm Muhammad in his prime\n(Life's a bitch and then you die)\nI used to bust tables, now I bust rhymes\nThat buck that bought a bottle\n(Life's a bitch and then you die)\nI swear to God, I'm the reincarnated Young Sinatra\n(Life's a bitch and then you die)\nI used to bust tables, now I bust rhymes\nThat buck that bought a bottle\n(Life's a bitch and then you die)\nI swear to God, I'm the reincarnated Young Sinatra\n\nYo, address the mic and start spillin' like I hit the vein\nBack in the day they used to sleep on me like Tryptophan\nTouchdown now the city screamin' my name\nI flow gunshots and break fingers just to shift the pain\nWhoever hate \u2018em, I levitate 'em like David Blaine\nBlack Ops state of mind, play the game like campaign\nBumpin' Santana in the finest Copacabana\nIn Havana with a honey by the name of Hannah\nWearing nothing but a bandanna\nPussy wetter than Louisiana\nYou know the deal, peace to Miilkbone, I keep it real\nFlyer than a man of steel, motherfucker how you feel, It's Logic\nI woke up early on my born day, I\u2019m 20, it\u2019s a blessing\nThe essence of adolescence leaves my body\nNow I\u2019m fresh and my physical frame is celebrated\nCause I made it one quarter through life\nSome Godly-like thing created\nGot rhymes 365 days annual plus some\nLoad up the mic and bust one, cuss while I puffs from\nMy skull cause it\u2019s pain in my brain, vein, money maintain\nDon\u2019t go against the grain, simple and plain"}
{"text":"Somewhere this shit done got crazy\nI've just been drivin' Ms. Daisy\nWith my hands on the steering wheel\nAnd my eyes on the pavement\nI give a fuck 'bout where they went\nI owe my lawyer a payment\nThey talkin' 'bout no arraignment\nNow I wonder where the rain went\nI just been all in my mind, homies tell me I'm stressin'\nI been countin' what's on my bucket list\nAnd not on my blessings\nI think it's time for a lesson, hold up (Hold up), you better pay attention\nI-I-I can't end up like my mama poppin' anti-depressants\nMy therapist think I'm crazy (Uh, yeah, yeah-yeah)\nWell, shit, she probably does (Aw yeah!)\nAll that stress I'm under, I wonder why I don't do drugs (I don't do drugs, yeah)\nRaised in a household full of killers and thugs (Uh, uh, uh)\nShit, I've been in doubt so long, don't know who I was\nBut I know who I am (Know who I am)\nYes, I know who I is (Know who I is)\nPlease pardon my grammar, Daisy vibin' with this\n\nI've just been drivin'\nUh-uh, nah-nah, da-da-da, la-da-da-da\nI've just been drivin'\nUh-uh, nah-nah, da-da-da, la-da-da-da\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy\nUh-uh, nah-nah, nah-nah, uh, uh, ah-da-da\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy\nUh-uh, nah-nah, nah-nah, uh, uh, ah-da-da (Yeah)\nI've just been drivin' Miss Daisy\nUh-uh, nah-nah, nah-nah, uh, uh, ah-da-da (Yeah)\nI've just been drivin' Miss Daisy\nUh-uh, nah-nah, nah-nah, uh, uh, ah-da-da (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nYou might also like\nThat Bino the realest (Uh)\nThis beat made me kill it (Uh)\nHer feet to the ceiling, she said that she love me\nShe never said that in college, 3005 is our mileage\nI'm in my lane like a Prius, because I'm movin' in silence\nYou still ain't broke down yet? (Yeah)\nAll the flashing lights and a couple Crown Vic's\nWanna rock a crown and a ring on the left\nTell your nigga speed up, she don't wanna get left\nRelationships look closer in that rear view\nFinally slow it down and realize she ain't nowhere near you\nSo now you gotta stop (Stop), park (Park)\nPut that shit in neutral\nYeah, you really love her, but is she worth yo' future?\nYour Ciara, your Beyonc\u00e9, they be sayin' he got money\nThink that Kim be wit Kanye if he left drive in the driveway?\nYeah, I know who you are, yeah, I know who you is\nWe were drivin' together, when we met we were kids\nYou ain't know 'bout the biz, I ain't know 'bout it either\nI see you in that new ride, I flash my lights when I see you\n\nI just be drivin'\nUh-uh, nah-nah, da-da-da, la-da-da-da (Yeah, uh, yeah)\nI just been drivin' (Yeah)\nUh-uh, nah-nah, da-da-da, la-da-da-da\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy\nUh-uh, nah-nah, nah-nah, uh, uh, ah-da-da\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy\nUh-uh, nah-nah, nah-nah, uh, uh, ah-da-da\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy\nUh-uh, nah-nah, nah-nah, uh, uh, ah-da-da\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy\nUh-uh, nah-nah, nah-nah, uh, uh, ah-da-da (Yeah-yeah, you)\nAh, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, da-da\nTurn left on West Deer Park\nDoing 90 on the highway\nWe gon' do it my way\nI said, 90 on the highway, we gon' do it my way\nUh, I said, 90 on the high, 90 on the high, ah-da-da\n90 on the high, 90 on the high, ah-da-da\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy (Yeah, uh, you-you, uh-uh, yeah, yeah-yeah)\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy (You-you, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, uh, you-you, aw yeah! Uh-uh, you, you, you)\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy (Yeah, you-you, uh yeah, uh yeah-yeah)\nI just been drivin' Miss Daisy (You-you, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah, uh, you-you, aw yeah! You-you, you-you, yeah-yeah)"}
{"text":"So, here we go, here we go\nAm I ready? Are you ready?\nAre they ready? Are we ready?\nI don\u2019t know, I don\u2019t know\nWhat do I know?\nI know you need to\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\nOpen your mind, open your mind, open your mind\n\nI\u2019m like hallelujah!\nPraise God, almighty, the most high\nAlpha and omega in the sky\nI\u2019m like hallelujah!\nPraise God, almighty, the most high\nAlpha and omega in the sky, I'm like\nYou might also like\nMade in the image of God\nWith a blunt in my mouth and a bitch on the side\nHold up, wait a minute my life need a massage\nHappy ending with a money menage\nMe, dirt broke, that\u2019s a money mirage\nRunnin' my city like I\u2019m the Wizard of Oz\nEverybody wanna know what I devise\nEverybody wanna know, yeah\nGot a new vision, everybody listen\nFuck around I got a new religion\nWhat it is, what it isn\u2019t, all of that revision\nGet the fuck up out that prison\nIt\u2019s obvious the body is the cracker\nThe worse it is, what hurts it is, the blacker\nEverybody actin' like the brain don\u2019t matter\nMind over matter unless we talkin' brain matter\nActin like you never seen a ass way fatter\nBitch way badder, mind in the gutter\nFood for thought, yeah that\u2019s the plan with the butter\nTalkin' shit, ya get hit like what up?\nI just wanna do it but I can\u2019t\nWorld wanna tell me what I ain\u2019t\nFar from a saint, come now just let that boy paint\nLet a mothafucka like this live\nYeah, lemme show 'em what I gotta give\nLet a mothafucka like this live, like, like\nMade in the image of God, can you feel the vibe?\nMothafucka is you ready to ride? Is you ready to die?\nLike B.I.G. the V.I.P\nThe greatest of all time, I\u2019ll be Ali\nSee, I be\nThe cost of livin', it ain\u2019t free\nSee, the tab on me\nFeelin\u2019 like the man got tabs on me\nWonder if I only had rags on me\nWould ya love me, want me?\nHere with this, I know\nFunny thing is I don\u2019t even know\nAll I get to have and all I have to give\nIs what my God will give\nYeah, lemme show 'em what I gotta give\nLet a mothafucka like this live, like, like\nI\u2019m like hallelujah!\nPraise God, almighty, the most high\nAlpha and omega in the sky\nI\u2019m like hallelujah!\nPraise God, almighty, the most high\nAlpha and omega in the sky\n\nI\u2019m like\nHold up, wait a minute\nKnow my mind been goin' like whoa, ayy\nI been thinkin', prayin', hopin', dreamin' it won\u2019t go away\nI know my mind alright, I know, ayy\nI know my mind alright, do you know a way?\nYour way, do it your way\nDo it your way, do it\n(Open your)\n\nThis is beyond the flesh, this is beyond the flesh\nThis is from the soul and for the soul\nThis is for all my brothers and sisters, for all my children\nThis is for every race\nThis is for every color, every creed\nMusic does not discriminate, music is made to assimilate\nBlack is beautiful, black is beautiful, and so are you\nStrollin' down the highway, I\u2019m strollin'\nAnd I was strollin' down the highway\nStrollin', strollin', strollin', strollin'\nI was strollin' down the highway\nWith my mind ablaze\nStrollin' down the highway\nFor days and days\nStrollin' down the highway\nWith my mind ablaze\nStrollin' down the highway\nFor days and days and days and days\nHello?\nI know, I know, I\u2019m supposed to been home, I\u2019m coming\nJust, I\u2019m on my way home, every time\nI\u2019m on my way there right now, okay?\nOh shit!\nLife, what\u2019s it all about?\nWhat? Wait, where am I?\nThe space between spaces\nBeyond time and existential intelligence\nForget, fuck all the hippy shit, where am I?\nWhat\u2019s the last thing you remember, Atom?\nI was in the store, I bought some smokes\nI came outside, the phone rang, I...\nHow do you know my name?!\nYou were walking home from work when you died\nDied? Dead? I\u2019m dead? I\u2019m dead?!\nIt wasn\u2019t an act of courage or bravery, but it was your time\nWhat do you mean it\u2019s my time? What? I got...\nWhat about Vanessa? What about the baby?\nYour wife and son? You see, that\u2019s what I like to hear\nYou find out you\u2019re dead and the first thing you worry about is others\nMan, answer me, what about my family?\nWhat\u2019s going on with Vanessa?\nThey\u2019re doing just fine\nYou see, your wife was cheating on you\nWait, wait, the bitch did what?!\nAnd even though she loved you dearly\nShe was a bit relieved you would never find out\nWait, what the fuck you mean she cheated on me?\nHow you gon' tell me I\u2019m dead then gon' tell me my wife cheated on me?!\nAtom, none of that matters now\nWalk with me\nWait, what is this? Is this...Is this heaven?\nNo\nWell, I don\u2019t see no pitchforks\nLittle red people runnin' around\nIt ain\u2019t too hot up in here so I guess this ain\u2019t hell either\nI think the easiest way to describe it, this white void\nIs to look upon it as a waiting room\nSo...are you God?\nYes, I\u2019m God"}
{"text":"Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na, igh\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na, igh\n\nCigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank\nI got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses\nCigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank\nI got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses (Kisses, kisses)\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses\n\nOkie dokie, alkie, keep it low-key like Thor lil' bro\nOr he'll go blow the loudy, saudy of sour Saudi\nWiley up off peyote, wilin' like that coyote\nIf I sip any Henny, my belly just might be outie\nPull up inside a huggy, Starsky & Hutch a dougie\nI just opened up the pack, in an hour I'll ash my lucky\nTonight she just yelling \"Fuck me\"\nTwo weeks she'll be yelling \"Fuck me\"\nUsed to like orange cassette tapes with Timmy, Tommy, and Chuckie\nAnd Chuck E. Cheese's pizzas, Jesus pieces, sing Jesus love me\nPut Visine inside my eyes so my grandma would fucking hug me\nOh, generation above me, I know you still remember me\nMy afro look just like daddy's, y'all taught me how to go hunting, blam\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nCigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank\nI got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses (Kisses, kisses)\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses\nCigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank (Innanet)\nI got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses (Kisses, kisses)\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses (Innanet)\n(Kisses, kisses)\n\nI will smoke a little something but I don't inhale\nEverywhere that I go, everywhere, they be asking how's it going\nSay the going's well, go figure, Victor's light skinned\nJesus got me feeling like Colin Powell, all praise to the God\nGod knows he's a pro, he's a pro like COINTEL\nCheck, checkmate, check me, take me to the bedroom\nLike she know me well, I mean normally\nYou see Norma Jean wouldn't kick it with Farmer Phil\nBut these kids these days, they get so high\nBurn trees, smoke chlorophyll, 'til they can't feel shit\nShit-faced, faced it, 15 hits on this L\nElevated, train, and the craziest thing\nGot me feeling like Lauryn Hill, miseducated, my dick delegated\nRap Bill Bellamy, they said I shoulda never made it\nProbably shoulda been dead or in jail\nDeadbeat dad, enough of that jazz\nAsshole, absinthe, thumpin' that glass\nAre we there yet? Ice cubes in a bong\nRip, brain-dead, take a tug and then pass\nI think we all addicted\nYeah, I think we all addicted\nReally though, I think we all addicted (Yah)\nI think we all addicted\n\nCigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank\nI got burn holes in my memories, my homies think it's dank\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses (Kisses, kisses)\nI think we all addicted (Kisses, kisses)\n\nCigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank\nI got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses (Kisses, kisses)\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses\nI could make a flow, pitter patter with a patter pitter, juicy\nUsed to be in a jalabiya and a kufi\nTrying hard not to be addicted to a groupie\nI ended up on an album cover in a Coogi\nYou see, I be still a God but a goofy\nYou be flowing about drugs and a Uzi\nThat's the dual principle, sometimes I'ma be about some hoes\nSometimes I'ma wanna make a movie\nAnd when it come to rapping fast, I'm the Higgs Boson (Yeah)\nAnd though my style freakish\nI could still break your body down to five pieces like I did Voltron\n'Cause I'm addicted to the craft and I be off a OG\nKnow me, I'm the Obi-Wan Kenobi of the dope, see (What?)\nNever scared of mean spirits, methamphetamine lyrics\nCooler like I'm off of codeine, low key\nDon't be so judgmental, even though I'm reminiscing\nIf I don't know what I miss is\nI'ma end up figuring out that it's home\nAnd my mother and my grandmother cocoa butter kisses\nThis is just a testament to the ones that raised me\nThe ones that I praise and I'm thanking\nI need 'em but the chronic all up in my clothes\nAnd I wanna get a hug, and I can't 'cause I'm stanking\nNever too old for a spanking, IGH!\nCigarettes on cigarettes, my momma think I stank\nI got burn holes in my memories, my homies think it's dank\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses (Kisses, kisses)\nI think we all addicted (Kisses, kisses)\n\nCigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank\nI got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses (Kisses, kisses)\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses (Kisses, kisses)\nCigarettes on cigarettes, my mama think I stank\nI got burn holes in my hoodies, all my homies think it's dank\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses\nI miss my cocoa butter kisses"}
{"text":"You don't want zero problems, big fella!\nYep! Igh!\n\nIf one more label try to stop me\nIt's gon' be some dreadhead niggas in ya lobby, huh huh\n\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, bih\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, huh, haha\nJust another day, had to pick up all the mail\nThere go Chano ridin' through the streets, they be like, \"There he go!\"\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, bih\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, huh, haha\nJust another day, had to pick up all the mail\nThere go Chano ridin' through the streets, they be like, \"There he go!\"\n\nOoh, watch me come and put the hinges in their hands\nCountin' Benjis while we meetin', make 'em shake my other hand, huh\nMilly rockin', scoopin' all the blessings out my lap\nBitch I know you tried to cheat, you shoulda never took a nap, hey\nFuck wrong with you? What you were thinkin'?\nFuck you thought it was?\nYou talk that talk that make a lame-ass nigga fall in love\nNot me, though, bitch, you can keep those\nBruh, I'm at your head like Craig did Deebo\nDon't tweak, bro, it's never sweet, ho\nMy shooters come for free, so\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nIf one more label try to stop me\nIt's gon' be some dreadhead niggas in ya lobby, huh, huh\n\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, you bih\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, huh, haha\nYep, yep\nPull up in the new thing, I'm like\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, bih\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, huh, haha\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, bih\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, huh, haha\n(Yeah, 2 Chainz)\nThey be like, \"There he go!\"\n\nYou old Petey Pablo, take your shirt off\nWave 'round your head like a helicopter\nI ain't put enough weed in the blunt\nAll you do is smoke tobacco\nWhere the hell you get them from?\nYeezy said he ain't make them\nMy niggas chasin' bounty hunters\nAnd gettin' chased by their baby mamas\nMy first tat was on my stomach\nGot a pocket full of money (Money)\nAnd a mind full of ideas\nSome of this shit may sound weird\nInside of the Maybach\nLook like it came out of Ikea\nRun shit like diarrhea (True)\nBig yacht, no power steering (Yeah)\nAye, aye, captain (Ooh!)\nI'm high, captain (A-alright!)\nI'm so high (I'm so high)\nMe and God dappin' (Alright)\nThis is my blessin' (Yeah)\nThis is my passion\nSchool of hard knocks\nI took night classes\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, bih\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, huh, haha\nYep\nPull up in the new thing, I'm like\nThey be like, \"There he go!\"\nI got problems bigger than these boys, yeah\nMy deposits, they be on steroids\nLord, free the Carter, niggas need the Carter\nSacrificin' everything, I feel like Jesus Carter\nHold up, I got this sewed up, my soda poured up\nMy woes up, I'm flippin' those bucks, they doing toe tucks\nI rolled up and let the smoke puff\nI lay down, toes up\nHold up, get too choked up when I think of old stuff\nMove on, put my goons on, they kidnap newborns\nIn the streets my face a coupon\nHer pussy too warm\nAll these bitches come to do harm\nJust bought a new charm\nFuck the watch, I buy a new arm, you lukewarm\nI'm Uncle Luke with the hoes\nPretty bitches, centerfolds\nTippy toes around my crib in they robes, just their robes\nHalf a milli' in the safe, another in the pillowcase\nCodeine got me movin' slower than a caterpillar race\nFuck wrong with you? What you were thinkin'?\nWhat you thought it was?\nI just popped five Percocets and only caught a buzz\nAnd if that label try to stop me\nThere gon' be some crazy Weezy fans waitin' in the lobby\nMula, baby\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, bih\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, huh, haha\nJust another day, had to pick up all the mail\nThere go Chano ridin' through the streets, they be like, \"There he go!\"\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, bih\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me, huh, haha\nJust another day, had to pick up all the mail\nThere go Chano ridin' through the streets, they be like, \"There he go!\"\n\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me\nYou don't want no problem, want no problem with me\nThey say so, ridin' with the payo'\nThey be like, \"There he go!\"\nThere he go\n"}
{"text":"Chance, acid rapper, soccer, hacky sacker\nCocky khaki jacket jacker\nSlap-happy faggot slapper, bah-bah\nIraqi rocket launcher\nShake that Laffy Taffy, jolly raunchy rapper\nDang, dang, dang, skeet, skeet, skeet\nShe do that thing for three retweets\nThe album feel like '92\nNow take that ball 'fore he three-peat\nChance, ho, acid, cruising on that LSD\nAsked Joseph about my deal\nHe looked back said, \"Hell yeah, let's eat\"\n\nThis shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words\nBut I still fuck with you, you just ain't never heard\nIt go like, count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack\nAll my niggas hit that xan, and all my ladies bob that back\nThis my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam\nI'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam\nThis my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam\nI'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam\n\nYoung Rascal Flatts, young ass kid ass could rap\nFuck all the faculty, tobacco-packing acrobat\nBack-to-back packin' bags back and forth with fifths of Jack and\nFourths of weed, I'm back to pack on hands\nWith young Cletus to pat my back\nReal nigga with a nose ring, that's right\nJust here to rap them songs\nRag on my hair, wrap weed in Vegas, rockin' Vagabonds\nSang a song, oh, you don't know? What?\nWell, I still bang with you\nHang with you, sip drank with you\nAs long as I can sang with you like\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nThis shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words\nBut I still fuck with you, you just ain't never heard\nIt go like, count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack\nAll my niggas hit that xan, and all my ladies bob that back\nThis my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam\nI'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam\nThis my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam\nI'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam\n\nNiggas, please be focused, that Bino, you know this\nHe rep the home of Sosas, you know I'm from that Zone 6\nYou know I rep that Stone shit, you know your hood is so clit\nAs God as my witness, this Will Smith spit real shit\nI'ma be that, CG busy gettin', where the weed at?\nBought your girl some new kneepads\nYou're fuckin' with the Fifi bag\nMy stars, egad, she said, \"This my favorite song\"\n\"Hold my purse\", now she on the floor, droppin' like it's hot\nYou blast this shit in Abercrombie when your work is finished\nYour mom won't play it in the car 'cause it got cursing in it\nYour boy like, \"I'm the one who showed you\"\nHe want his percentage\n'Cause you were like, \"This ain't the nigga you said spittin', is it?\"\nTwo-step, white dude's Harlem Shake\nWhy you laughing? 'Cause you Harlem Shake\nI was never fake, I was just too good to be true\nThat's acid rap, we killed the track\nYou had your chance, and 'Bino too, ooh\nThis shit my favorite song, you just don't know the words\nBut I still fuck with you, you just ain't never heard\nIt go like, count that stack, pop that cap then down that Jack\nAll my niggas hit that xan, and all my ladies bob that back\nThis my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam\nI'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam\nThis my jam, this my jam, this my jam, this my jam\nI'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm 'bout that jam, I'm bout that jam"}
{"text":"\nThirsty, thirsty, tryna choose\nI mean, I know I'm pretty cool\nMy Nitty bag, my kitty boost\nI got the juice, I got the juice\n\nChano, Chatham's own\nFoolies glad I'm home\nEven my haters kinda glad I'm on\nRest In Peace to my Vagabond\nRapper song, singer, suspended, subpoena\nFor misdemeanors, dreamer\nHeld back ass is lowkey still a senior\nAnd I still shake up BO Squad, praying for my BroBois\nCity on the come up, shout that nigga Sosa!\nShout my nigga Fat Trel, shout my nigga Joseph\nPlaying Buenos Aires while they sleepin': buenas noches!\nWonder if I wrote this, 'cause it's so crisp\nThe most brokest cold stockbroker, winter solstice\nI could win an Oscar, Russian accent husky\nAcid addict, costly avid actor, Kevin Costner\n\nJuice! Juice! Juice! Juice!\nI got the juice, I got the juice (Yup!)\nJuice! Juice! Juice! Juice!\nI got the juice, I got the juice (Yup!)\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nGod give me one sentence more\nMaybe I just gotta get suspended more?\nHashtag it, get mentions for it\nMake you love it, get it trending more\nAnd then act humble\nHear some bull that some dude mumble\nWantin' to jump dude, but let that nigga punk you\nKnowin' bitch niggas wanna bring guns to the rumbles, IGH!\nBut I love y'all souls, don't let the juice spill Pac!\nBlue pill pop 'til you feel good enough to pop\nThe popped bitch in the blue heels, yop!\nThat one, drown in the juice nigga\nHunnid proof get found in a youth nigga\nStop with all the tryna' introduce nigga\nEverybody know you dude, you the new nigga!\nHow's it feel to be you? Yo no s\u00e9\nI ain't really been myself since Rod passed\nI ain't even really need that shop class\nI ain't really been weak since pop's smashed\nI'm a genius, a mothafuckin' pop smash\nHit sensei, master\nJack and Lindsey, Wiley, Kembe\nBeen paid, 10 Day been they FAFSA\n\nJuice! Juice! Juice! Juice!\nI got the juice, I got the juice (Yup!)\nJuice! Juice! Juice! Juice!\nI got the juice, I got the juice (Yup!)\nJugo, you never tasted paper\nTripped, racing yaself tryna' chase the paper\nI just faced a Veg-er\nAnd you love being Kobe when you make the lay-er\n'Til you realize everybody in the world fuckin' hates the Lakers\nAnd then everybody wanna sip\n'Til the juice spill, everybody wanna bib\nAnd then everybody wanna dip\nTold you I ain't worried, I ain't scared of the booth\nAll you can do is spit a verse of the truth\nMerge the mixture with the purest of fruits\nAnd the thirst is the worst, it's the curse of the juice!\n\nJuice! Juice! Juice! Juice!\nI got the juice, I got the juice (Yup!)\nJuice! Juice! Juice! Juice!\nI got the juice, I got the juice (Yup!)\n\nThirsty, thirsty, tryna choose\nI mean, I know I'm pretty cool\nMy Nitty bag, my kitty boost\nI got the juice, I got the juice\n(Juice, juice, juice, juice) Yup!\n(Juice, juice, juice, juice) Yup!\nYup! Yup!\nYup!"}
{"text":"\nTen damn days\nAnd all I got to show for it is shoes and shows\nAnd chauffeurs with road rage\nStill the same damn ad-lib: IGH!, old ways\nStill got a letterman, no practice\nStill got a burner, man, no lacking\nStill outtin' Jams nigga, no Jackson\nNo Jordan and we toe-tagging\nI'll take you to the land where the lake made of sand\nAnd the milk don't pour and the honey don't dance\nAnd the money ain't yours\nNow it's just a red pill\nGot a blue and a handful of Advils\nI'm the new Nitty, fuck it, Nitty the old me\nSo I'ma tell the buyer what Nitty told me\n\nI got that mmm, mmm, I got that goddamn\nI'm your pusha man, I'm your, I'm your pusha man\nPimp slappin', toe taggin', I'm just tryna fight the man\nI'm your pusha man, I'm your, I'm your pusha man\nI got that mmm, mmm, I got that goddamn\nI'm your pusha man, I'm your, I'm your pusha man\nPimp slappin', toe taggin', I'm just tryna fight the man\nI'm your pusha man, I'm your, I'm your pusha man\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nYou a laaaaaaaame\nAnd your bitch break down my weed sometimes\nSee my face in the streets, in the tweets\nAnd a Reader or a RedEye if you read Sun-Times\nShe got blisters on her knees, she's a fiend for the D\nEven though I only beat one time\nOne time, it was one two times\nIt was two plus me equals threesome time\nShouts out to Nate, I jackball and I bop, I flex\nGot neck from all these thots I sex\nRastafari them shottas, yes\nHouse safari, mi casa, yes\nPoppy fields of that popeye\nShe came to party, she popped a molly\nSaid, \"Come to Papa\", she said, \"Papa, yes\"\n\nI got that mmm, mmm, I got that goddamn\nI'm your pusha man, I'm your, I'm your pusha man\nPimp slappin', toe taggin', I'm just tryna fight the man\nI'm your pusha man, I'm your, I'm your pusha man\nI got that mmm, mmm, I got that goddamn\nI'm your pusha man, I'm your, I'm your pusha man\nPimp slappin', toe taggin', I'm just tryna fight the man\nI'm your pusha man, I'm your, I'm your pusha man\n\nI've been riding around with my blunt on my lips\nWith the sun in my eyes and my gun on my hip\nParanoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz\nBut a lot of niggas dyin', so my 9 with the shits\nI've been riding around with my blunt on my lips\nWith the sun in my eyes and my gun on my hip\nParanoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz\nBut a lot of niggas dyin', so my 9 with the shits\nMove to the neighborhood; I bet they don't stay for good, watch\nSomebody'll steal daddy's Rollie, call it the neighborhood watch\nPray for a safer hood when my paper good, watch\nCaptain Save-a-Hood, hood savior, baby boy\nStill getting ID'd for Swishers (Mama still wash my clothes)\nStill with the Save Money militia (I'ma still watch my bros)\nTrapped in the middle of the map\nWith a little-bitty rock and a little bit of rap\nThat, with a literary knack\nAnd a little shitty Mac, and like literally jack\n\nI've been riding around with my blunt on my lips\nWith the sun in my eyes and my gun on my hip\nParanoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz\nBut a lot of niggas dyin', so my 9 with the shits\nI've been riding around with my blunt on my lips\nWith the sun in my eyes and my gun on my hip\nParanoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz\nBut a lot of niggas dyin', so my 9 with the shits\nThey murking kids, they murder kids here\nWhy you think they don't talk about it? They deserted us here\nWhere the fuck is Matt Lauer at?\nSomebody get Katie Couric in here\nProbably scared of all the refugees\nLook like we had a fuckin' hurricane here\nThey'll be shooting whether it's dark or not\nI mean, the days is pretty dark a lot\nDown here, it's easier to find a gun\nThan it is to find a fucking parking spot\nNo love for the opposition, specifically a cop position\n'Cause they've never been in our position\nGetting violations from the nation, correlating, you dry snitchin'\n\nI've been riding around with my blunt on my lips\nWith the sun in my eyes and my gun on my hip\nParanoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz\nBut a lot of niggas dyin', so my 9 with the shits\nI've been riding around with my blunt on my lips\nWith the sun in my eyes and my gun on my hip\nParanoia on my mind, got my mind on the fritz\nBut a lot of niggas dyin', so my 9 with the shits\n\nI know you scared\nYou should ask us if we scared too\nI know you scared\nMe too\nI know you scared\nYou should ask us if we scared too\nIf you was there\nThen we'd just knew you cared too\n\nIt just got warm out, this the shit I've been warned 'bout\nI hope that it storm in the mornin', I hope that it's pourin' out\nI hate crowded beaches, I hate the sound of fireworks\nAnd I ponder what's worse\nBetween knowing it's over and dyin' first\n'Cause everybody dies in the summer\nWanna say your goodbyes, tell them while it's spring\nI heard everybody's dying in the summer\nSo pray to God for a little more spring\n\nI know you scared\nYou should ask us if we scared too\nIf you was there\nThen we'd just knew you cared too"}
{"text":"We don't do the same drugs no more\nWe don't do the, we don't do the same drugs, do the same drugs no more\n'Cause she don't do the same drugs no more\nWe don't do the, we don't do the same drugs, do the same drugs no more\n\nWhen did you change?\nWendy, you've aged\nI thought you'd never grow up\nI thought you'd never\nWindow closed, Wendy got old\nI was too late, I was too late\nA shadow of what I once was\n\n'Cause we don't do the same drugs no more\nWe don't do the, we don't do the same drugs, do the same drugs no more\nShe don't laugh the same way no more\nWe don't do the, we don't do the same drugs, do the same drugs no more\n\nWhere did you go?\nWhy would you stay?\nYou must have lost your marbles\nYou always were so forgetful\nIn a hurry, don't wait up\nI was too late, I was too late\nA shadow of what I once was\n'Cause we don't, we don't do what we say we're gonna\nYou were always perfect, and I was only practice\nDon't you miss the days, stranger?\nDon't you miss the days?\nDon't you miss the danger?\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nWe don't (We don't) do the same drugs no more (Do the same drugs no more)\nWe don't do the, we don't do the same drugs, do the same drugs no more\nWe don't (We don't) do the same drugs no more (Do the same drugs no more)\nWe don't do the, we don't do the same drugs, do the same drugs no more\nWe don't do the, we don't do the same drugs\n\nTurn it around\nI remember when\nThis age of pathetics\nDon't forget the happy thoughts\nAll you need is happy thoughts\nThe past tense, past bed time\nWay back then when everything we read was real\nAnd everything we said rhymed\nWide eyed kids being kids\nWhy did you stop?\nWhat did you do to your hair?\nWhere did you go to end up right back here?\nWhen did you start to forget how to fly?\nIt's so natural\nTastes like Juicy Fruit\nWorks like a magic trick\nPlease give me half of that\nWe don't, we don't, we don't\nDon't you color out\nDon't you bleed on out, oh\nStay in the line, stay in the line\nDandelion\nWe don't do the same drugs no more\nWe don't do the, we don't do the same drugs, do the same drugs no more\nWe don't, we don't, we don't\nDon't you color out\nDon't you bleed on out, oh\nStay in the line, stay in the line\nDandelion"}
{"text":"I'm gon' praise Him, praise Him 'til I'm gone\nI'm gon' praise Him, praise Him 'til I'm gone\nWhen the praises go up, the blessings come down\nWhen the praises go up, the blessings come down\nIt seems like blessings keep falling in my lap\nIt seems like blessings keep falling in my lap\n\nI don't make songs for free, I make 'em for freedom\nDon't believe in kings, believe in the Kingdom\nChisel me into stone, prayer whistle me into song air\nDying laughing with Krillin saying something 'bout blonde hair\nJesus' black life ain't matter, I know, I talked to his daddy\nSaid you the man of the house now, look out for your family\nHe has ordered my steps,  gave me a sword with a crest\nAnd gave Donnie a trumpet in case I get shortness of breath\n\nI'm gon' praise Him, praise Him 'til I'm gone (Don't be mad)\nI'm gon' praise Him, praise Him 'til I'm gone\nWhen the praises go up (Good God)\nThe blessings come down, Good God\nWhen the praises go up (Good God) the blessings come down\n(The blessings come down)\nWhen the praises go up, the blessings come down\n(It seems like blessings keep falling in my lap)\nThe blessings come down\nWhen the praises go up, the blessings come down\n(Good God)\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nThey booked the nicest hotels on the 59th floor\nWith the big wide windows, with the suicide doors\nAin't no blood on my money, ain't no Twitter in Heaven\nI know them drugs isn't close, ain't no visitin' Heaven\nI know the difference in blessings and worldly possessions\nLike my ex-girl getting pregnant\nAnd her becoming my everything\nI'm at war with my wrongs, I'm writing four different songs\nI never forged it or forfeited, I'm a force to be reconciled\nThey want four-minute songs\nYou need a four-hour praise dance performed every morn\nI'm feeling shortness of breath, so Nico grab you a horn\nHit Jericho with a buzzer beater to end a quarter\nWatch brick and mortar fall like dripping water, ugh\n(Good God)\n\nI'm gon' praise Him, praise Him 'til I'm gone\n(Good God)\nI'm gon' praise Him, praise Him 'til I'm gone\nWhen the praises go up, (Good God) the blessings come down\n(The blessings come down)\nWhen the praises go up, the blessings come down\n(The blessings come down)\nWhen the praises go up, the blessings come down\n(Are you ready for your blessings?)\nWhen the praises go up, the blessings come down\n(Are you ready for your miracle?)\nAre you ready, are you ready?\nAre you ready, are you ready?\nAre you ready, are you ready?\nAre you ready, are you ready?\nIt seems like blessings keep falling in my lap"}
{"text":"My druggy, love me, when I'm ugly, hug me\nWhen I'm bummy, scummy, I'm your hubby\nLet's get lost\nLet's get lost\n\nDamn, I'm in so deep, girl, probably 'cause you're empty\nYou can't even speak (Igh), damn, your mouth so minty\nOoh, your mama hate me, daddy wouldn't let you\nIf he ever met me, if he ever met you\nPut that shit behind us and put this in your sinus\nMine is all up in my gums, minus all that shit it's lined with\nI say oh-oh-oh-oh, you been scratchin', you been fiendin'\nI'ma fix you, I'ma fuck you, I'ma get rid of them demons\nIt's my\n\nMy druggy, when I'm ugly, hug me\nWhen I'm bummy, scummy, I'm your hubby\nLet's get lost, let's get lost\n\nDamn, I need a minute, aight, leggo\nShe fell in love, it fell apart, aight, let go\nShe met her match, I let her match\nShe lit her match, she let me smoke\nYeah, me mad petty, yeah, me bogus\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, me know\nYeah, she knew too (Igh), it made her love it\nHer pussy like me, her heart like, \"Fuck it\"\nSo dance for daddy like Gator\nAin't no partners on this trip\nAnd lose yourself in my room\nAnd find yourself in my grip\nI'm sayin'\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nMy druggy, when I'm ugly, hug me\nWhen I'm bummy, scummy, I'm your hubby\nLet's get lost, let's get lost\n\nI blessed myself inside your arms one day\nSwear to God there I was when the dress\nAnd the silver buttons fade away\nMiss Mary Mattress, geriatrics\nFuck me into open caskets, I wanna die with this\nI wanna stop seeing my psychiatrist\nShe said \"Pill pop, baby girl, 'cause I promise you, you tweaked\nThe empty bottled loneliness, this happiness you seek\nThe masochism that you preach\nPractice backflips, tragic actress\nOn a movie with no screen\nWhen the only time he loves me is naked in my dreams\n\nMy druggy, when I'm ugly, hug me\nWhen I'm bummy, scummy, I'm your hubby\nLet's get lost, let's get lost\nIgh"}
{"text":"\nKicked off my shoes, tripped acid in the rain\nWore my jacket as a cape, and my umbrella as a cane\nThe richest man rocks the snatch-less necklace\nSpineless bitches in backless dresses\nWore my feelings on my sleeveless\nMy weed seedless, my trees leafless\nI miss my diagonal grilled cheeses\nAnd back when Mike Jackson was still Jesus\nBefore I believed in not believing in\nYeah, I inhaled, who believed in me not breathing in\nCigarette stained smile all covered in sin\nMy big homie died young, just turned older than him\nI seen it happen, I seen it happen, I see it always\nHe still be screaming, I see his demons in empty hallways\nI trip to make the fall shorter\nFall quarter was just a tall order\nAnd I'm hungry, I'm just not that thirsty\nAs of late, all my verses seem not so verse-y\nAnd all my words just mean controversy\nTook the team up off my back, like \"That's not your jersey?\"\nStressin', pullin' my hair out, hoping I don't get picked\nAll this medicine in me hoping I don't get sick\nMaking all of this money hoping I don't get rich\n'Cause niggas still getting bodied for foams\nSometimes the truth don't rhyme\nSometime the lies get millions of views\nFunerals for little girls, is that appealing to you?\nFrom your cubicle desktop, what a beautiful view\nI think love is beautiful too\nBuilding forts from broken dams, what a hoover could do\nFor future hoopers dead from Rugers\nShooting through the empty alley\nCould've threw him an alley-oop\nHelping him do good in school\nDamn that acid burn when it clean ya\nI still miss being a senior\nAnd performing at all those open mic events\nEyes closed, eyes closed seeing arenas\nAnd I still get jealous of Vic\nAnd Vic's still jealous of me\nBut if you touch my brother\nAll that anti-violence shit goes out the window along with you\nAnd the rest of your team\nSmoking cigarettes to look cooler\nI only stop by to look through ya\nAnd I'm only getting greedier\nAnd I'm still Mr. Youmedia\nAnd I still can't find Talent\nAnd I'm still choosing classmates that wouldn't fuck\nMom still thinks I should go back to school\nAnd Justin still think I'm good enough\nAnd Mama Jan still don't take her meds\nAnd I still be asking God to show his face\nAnd I still be asking God to show his face\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nI am a new man, I am sanctified\nOh, I am holy, I have been baptized\nI have been born again, I am the White Light\nRain, rain don't go away\nIgh!"}
{"text":"Angels (Na-na, na-na, ah)\n\nI got my city doing front flips\nWhen every father, mayor, rapper jump ship\nI guess that's why they call it where I stay\nClean up the streets so my daughter can have somewhere to play\nI'm the blueprint to a real man\nSome of these niggas toss they tassel for a deal, man\nI ain't goin' to hell or to Hillman\nAh, ah, ah, ah for my real fans\nI got caught up with a little Xan\nCouldn't stop me, but it slowed me, though\nYeah, a nigga famous, you don't know me though\nBut every DJ still play me, though\nDamn, I don't even need a radio\nAnd my new shit sound like a rodeo\nGot the old folks dancing the do-si-do\n'Til they fuck around, sign me to OVO\nOoh, I just might share my next one with Keef\nGot the industry in disbelief, they be asking for beef\nThis what it sound like when God split a atom with me\nI even had Steve giving out apples for free\n\nThey was talkin', \"Woo, this woo wap da bam\"\nCity so damn great, I feel like Alexand'\nWear your halo like a hat, that's like the latest fashion\nI got angels all around me, they keep me surrounded\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nWho is you, and who the fuck is you and who is him?\nAll of a sudden, woo wap da bam, you can't touch me\nNa, na, na, na, I got angels\nI got angels\n\nI ain't change my number since the seventh grade\nThis for my day one, ten years, seven days\nA week, niggas never tired on they Kevin Gates\nAnd if they rest in peace, they bunny hopping Heaven's gates\nIt's too many young angels on the southside\nGot us scared to let our grandmamas outside\nYou gon' make me take the campers way downtown\nYou gon' make me turn my BM to my housewife\nI just had a growth spurt\nIt done took so long, my tippy toes hurt\nYou can keep the nose ring, I don't have to soul search\nI'm still at my old church, only ever sold merch\nGrandma say I'm Kosher, mama say I'm culture\nGCI, 107.5, angel goin' live\nPower 92, angel, juke, angel gon' juke\nGCI, 107.5, goin' live\nPower 92, angel gon' juke, juke, juke, juke\n\nThey was talkin', \"Woo, this woo wap da bam\"\nCity so damn great, I feel like Alexand'\nWear your halo like a hat, that's like the latest fashion\nI got angels all around me, they keep me surrounded\nWap da bam (Na, na, na, na)\nI got (I got angels)\nI got angels all around me, they keep me surrounded\nNa, na, na, na\nI got, I got angels\n\nThey was talkin', \"Woo, this woo wap da bam\"\nCity so damn great, I feel like Alexand'\nWear your halo like a hat, that's like the latest fashion\nI got angels all around me, they keep me surrounded\n\nWho is you, and who the fuck is you and who is him?\nAll of a sudden, woo wap da bam, you can't touch me\nNa, na, na, na, I got angels\nI got, I got angels\n\nNa, na\nNa, na\nI got, I got\u2014"}
{"text":"We used to roll at the Rink, we used to roll at the Rink\nI used to talk way too much, you used to know everything\nYou couldn't stand me, I couldn't stand you\nYou said I'm steady playin', but you steady playin' too\nYour big brother footwork, your play sister juke\nThe Rink was the place, but in that space and time I was too young for you\nAs you were for me, too worried 'bout Frooties and Chews\n'Til I found out all the shorties with cooties was cute\nAnd realized what booties could do\n\nWe gon' get it poppin', we gon' get it jukin'\nWe gon' throw a party, and we ain't gotta do shit\nYou came with your best friend, came here for the weekend\nRollin' with your party, so tell me what you thinkin'\nSaid we gon' have a juke jam, we gon' have a juke jam\nWe can have a party, just listening to music\nLike we used to do, I'll get close to you\nI remember you, you used to, I remember you, 'cause\n\nWe've got so much history, baby (Juke), maybe (Juke)\nMaybe you and I were meant to be, maybe (Juke), I'm crazy (Juke)\n\nWe never rolled at the Rink, we would just go to the Rink\nYou ain't buy tokens no more, you just hip roll at the Rink\nYou had a nigga, I couldn't stand him\nBut when they play \"Take You Down,\" Chris Brown, I am his stand-in\nI mean, it's just dancing, it's harmless as fuck\nThen I put my waist to your hips and your legs in my arms just to harness you up\nThen we hit the floor, all the kiddies stop skating\nTo see grown folks do what grown folks do when they grown and they dating\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nWe've got so much history, baby (That's right, that's right), maybe (That's right, that's right)\nMaybe you and I were meant to be, maybe I'm crazy\nCrazy 'bout you\n\nWe gon' get it poppin', we gon' get it jukin'\nWe gon' throw a party, and we ain't gotta do shit\nYou came with your best friend, came here for the weekend\nRollin' with your party, so tell me what you thinkin'\nSaid we gon' have a juke jam, we gon' have a juke jam\nWe can have a party, just listening to music\nLike we used to do, I'll get close to you\nI remember you, you used to, I remember you, 'cause\n\nWe've got so much history, baby (Juke), maybe (Juke)"}
{"text":"And we back\nAnd we back, and we back, and we back, and we back, and we, huh\nAnd we back, and we back, nah, nah, nah\n\nHey, this ain't no intro, this the entree\nHit that intro with Kanye and sound like Andr\u00e9\nTryna turn my baby mama to my fianc\u00e9e\nShe like music, she from Houston like Auntie Yonc\u00e9\nMan my daughter couldn't have a better mother\nIf she ever find another, he better love her\nMan I swear my life is perfect, I could merch it\nIf I die I'll prolly cry at my own service, igh-igh!\nIt was a dream, you could not mess with the Beam\nThis is like this many rings\nY'all know wha' mean?\nThis for the kids of the king of all kings\nThis is the holiest thing\nThis is the beat that played under the Word\nThis is the sheep that ain't like what it heard\nThis is officially first\nThis is the third\nThis is the bom-bom-bom\nBom-bom-bom\nBom-bom-bom\nMusic is all we got\nOh, bom-bom-bom\nSo we might as well give it all we got\nThis is the bom-bom-bom (Huh)\nBom-bom-bom\nBom-bom-bom\nMusic is all we got, got, got\nOh, bom-bom-bom\nSo we might as well give it all we got\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nAyy, ayy, I get my word from the sermon\nI do not talk to the serpent\nThat's the holistic discernment\nDaddy said I'm so determined\nTold me these goofies can't hurt me\nI just might make me some Earl tea\nI was baptized like real early\nI might give Satan a swirlie\nWish I could tell you it's ready\nTell you it's ready today\nThey don't give nothin' away\nYou gotta fight for your way\nAnd that don't take nothin' away\n'Cause at the end of the day\n\nMusic is all we got\nMusic is all we got\nMusic is all we got\nOh, bom-bom-bom\nSo we might as well give it all we got\nMusic is all we got (Huh, huh)\nMusic is all we got (Huh, huh)\nWe know, we know we got it\nWe know, we know we got it\nWe know, we know we got it\nWe know, we know we got it\nMusic\nWe know, we know we got it\nWe know, we know we got it\nWe know, we know we got it\nWe know, we know we got it\nMusic\nMusic is all we got\n"}
{"text":"Mmm, igh\nAcid Rap\n\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\n\nWho smokin' in my car? It's that nigga Chano\nAKA Mr. Bennett, AK Tony Montano\nI've got some folks in low end, I got some folks in C-note\nAK hundred dinero, you ever seen Casino?\nI just got back with 'Bino, I got a bitch but she know\nHer friends done did the Dino, that's that Chicago lingo\nFlamin' hots with cheese, and a Kiwi Mistic\nMy dick won't even call her, 'cause she left all that lipstick\nNiggas be on dirt, that's why I stay on petty\nI know that bangers jam, that's why my hands stay ready\nFlip the candy, yum, that's the fucking bombest\nLean all on the square, that's a fuckin' rhombus\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\n\nWho's sneaking in the club? That's that young sir rapper\nUn-saran wrap the purple, wrap that blunt under after\nSmoke all out the window, cops could eat a dick\nIf you ain't the hitter, you just might be the lick\nFlame on, flame on, I'm your bitch's ringtone\nShe like when I rap raps, but better when I sing songs\nNo Drake, but I get my Trey on, killin' in the hood like Trayvon\nShoppin' like I got a coupon, savin' like I got a cape on\nCookin' crack in my apron, dressed like a nigga had eight proms\nTell shorty I may change and I made it and I napalm\nTrippy shit to watch, drugs while on the clock\nAcid on the face, that's a work of art\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\n\nSoulo ho-ho twerk somethin' (Soulo)\nThrow it back like you tryna hurt somethin' (Soulo)\nI'm so def, I ain't ever heard nothin'\nMy name Herb, take herb, smoke herb (Say word?)\nHow 'bout you? No dap, but I'll take a pound or two\nNo doubt like Gwen Stefani's group\nLook, let me put my mouth where you potty, boo (Igh)\nYeah, them niggas pissed, need potty training\nThey movement shit, that's a potty train\nShe ain't left yet, but she probably came\nWe kicked it then I score, soccer game (Yeah)\nShe was a phony goalie, I got great aim though, don't insult me (Don't insult me)\nI'll give it to ya straight, this is what she told me\nMy name Soulo, 'cause I'm the one and only\nShe only got you as a nigga on the side\nThat's a nigga on the side of a side bitch, homie\nThen we got out a Dodge, like them Dukes of Hazzard\nMusic and tabs of Lucy, take your chance with this rapper\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again (Soul)\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do\nI don't even talk to them on the phone again\nLeave in the AM, on the road again\nSo bitch, let's fuck so I can smoke again\nI gotta smoke again, I got shit to do"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsAll Night Lyrics\nCome on, big fella, you drunk, big fella\nTwo sips and now you wanna trip, big fella\nYou not a drinker, I can see it all in your leg, big fella\nYou wobbly, big fella, you finna fall\nSit down, you drunk, big fella\n\nAll night, I been drinking all night\nI been drinking all night, I been drinking, ayy, ayy\nAll night, I been drinking all night\nI been drinking all night, I been drinking all night, hey\nAll night, I been drinking all night\nI been drinking all night, I been drinking, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy (Tryna get in)\n\nEverybody outside, everybody outside\nWhen I pull up outside all night, though\nEverybody high five, everybody wanna smile\nEverybody wanna lie, that's nice, no\nOh, now you wanna chill? Oh, now you wanna build?\nOh, now you got the bill? That's cool though\nOh, now you got the gas? Oh, now you wanna laugh?\nOh, now you need a cab? That's true though\nAll you do is talk, I ain't got shit to say\nCan't no one get in my car, I don't even valet\nLong discussions, oh, you my cousin?\nNo you wasn't, you just wanna ride\nYou just wanna talk about politics, Chicago shit and rocket ships\nShut up, start dancing, ho\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nAll night, I been drinking all night\nI been drinking all night, I been drinking, ayy, ayy\nAll night, I been drinking all night\nI been drinking all night, I been drinking all night, hey\nAll night, I been drinking all night\nI been drinking all night, I been drinking, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy (Tryna get in)\n\nYou just wanna spill fries in the seat\nSprite on the seat, come ride on the seat, ayy\nLast girl, she'll lie on the seat, she'll fart on the seat\nNow she jog in the streets, say\nI don't trust no one faking like a fan, asking for a pic\nYou should use your phone, call a Uber\nYou a goofy if you think I don't know you need a Lyft\nIs you is or is you ain't got gas money?\nNo IOU's or debit cards, I need cash money\nSo back up, back up, I need space now\nI need you to slow down, it's not a race now\nCan't really hear what you gotta say now\nShut up, start dancing, ho\n\nAll night, I been drinking all night\nI been drinking all night, I been drinking, ayy, ayy\nAll night, I been drinking all night\nI been drinking all night, I been drinking all night, hey\nAll night, I been drinking all night\nI been drinking all night, I been drinking, ayy, ayy, ayy (Tryna get in)"}
{"text":"Oh, I-I, I-I, I, I-I, I-I-I-I\n\nI speak of promised lands\nSoil as soft as mama's hands\nRunning water standing still\nEndless fields of daffodils and chamomile\nRice under black beans\nWalked into Apple with cracked screens\nAnd told prophetic stories of freedom\nFound warmth in a Black queen for when I get cold like Nat King\nI'm doing the dad thing\nI speak of wondrous, unfamiliar lessons from childhood\nMake you remember how to smile good\nI'm pre-currency, post-language, anti-label, pro-famous\nI'm Broadway Joe Namath\nKanye's best prodigy\nHe ain't signed me, but he proud of me\nI got some ideas that you gotta see\nMake a vid with shorty and they ship it like the Odyssey\nThey never seen a rapper practice modesty\nI never practice, I only perform\nI don't even warn, I don't eat it warm, I won't be reborn\nI speak to God in public\nI speak to God in public, He keep my rhymes in couplets\nHe think the new shit jam, I think we mutual fans\nI used to dance to Michael, I used to dance in high school\nI used to pass out music, I still pass out music\nThe people's champ must be everything the people can't be\nI'm getting artsy-fartsy, house full of some Hebru Brantleys\nYou must've missed the come-up, I must be all I can be\nCall me Mister Mufasa, I had to master stampedes\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nI made it through, made it through, made it through\nAnd everything I gave to you, I gave to you, I gave to you\nYou got it, you got it, you got it, it's coming (It's coming, coming, coming)\nSo are you ready? (Are you ready?)\nAre you ready for your blessings? (Are you ready?)\nAre you ready for your miracle?\nAre you ready for your blessings? (Are you ready?)\nAre you ready for your miracle?\nAre you ready for your blessings?\nAre you ready (Are you ready?) for your miracle?\nAre you ready for your blessings?\nAre you ready (Are you ready?) for your miracle?\nAre you ready for your blessings?\nAre you ready for your miracle?\nAre you ready for your blessings?\nAre you ready for your miracle?\nAre you ready for your blessings?\nAre you ready (Doo, doo-doo, doo-doo) for your miracle? (Are you ready?)\nAre you ready (Are you ready?) for your blessings? (Are you ready?)\nAre you ready for your miracle? (Aw, yeah)\nAre you ready for your blessings?\nAre you ready for your miracle?\nAre you ready for your blessings?\nAre you ready for your miracle?\nYou ready, big fella?"}
{"text":"Even better than I was the last time, baby\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh (Yo, we back)\nI'm good, ooh, yeah, I'm good\nEven better than I was the last time, baby\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh, I'm good\n(We back and we back and we back)\nSo good (And we back and we back and we back and we back)\nEven better than I was the last time\n\nRap just make me anxious, and acid made me crazy\nThem squares just made me looser and that wax just made me lazy\nAnd I still make this song, and I'ma make another\nIf you ever actually hit me, better watch out for my brother\nBetter bet I'd take that deal, gotta watch out for my mother\nGet a watch with all that glitters, come in clutters, different colors\nBen-a-Baller, Benford, butlers, chauffeurs, hit a stain-er, did I stutter?\nDid a ton of drugs and did better than all my Alma mater\nMotherfucker money dance, hundreds xan, gallon lean\nMake a joke 'bout Leno's hair then piggyback on Fallon's spleen\nBalancing on sporadicity and fucking pure joy\nNightly searches for a bed and I just came off tour with Troy\nBut I can't complain, I got some motherfucking bitches\nHow many lab partners have I fucked since I got suspended?\nMr. Bennett, you done did it, you did it, you did it\nYou did a good ass job, you did a good ass job, and I'm good, igh\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nEven better than I was the last time, baby\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh, I'm good\nI'm good, so good\nEven better than I was the last time, baby\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh\nI'm good (Even better than I was the last time)\nSo good\n\nWork, work, work, work, bang, nigga, bang\nTwerk, twerk, merge, swerve, dang, pick a lane\nFlip a bird, pigeon, plane, it's a word, it's a shame\nBut God I'm good, swear I couldn\u2019t be better\nKicking dirt on the shirts of the lames\nKeep a tab on my exes, keep some X on my tongue\nKeep my work out in Texas, that's just me flexin' my lungs\nSee them showin' they teeth, that's just them flappin' they gums\nIf they bite and I'm snappin', clap clap, collapsing they lungs\nCall me Chancelor The Rapper, please say, \"The Rapper\"\nMagical word (Poof), please say \"Kadabra\"\nReplay the replays, Green Bay, the Packers\nCremate your teammates and freebase the ashes\nMatches to gas leaks, dusted dusk 'til dawn\nIt's just us, and trust ya bottom, bitch, my stuff the fucking bomb\nI'm the motherfucking fucker, fuck, a nigga's fucking dumb\nThis your favorite fucking album, I ain't even fucking done\nI'm good\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh, I'm good\nOoh, yeah, I'm good, so good (I'm good, I'm good)\nEven better than I was the last time, baby\nOoh-ooh-ooh-ooh (I'm better than the last time, yeah, yeah)\nI'm good (I'm gonna be)\nSo good\n\nEven better than I was, even better than I was (I'm gonna be so good)\nEven better than I was\n(Ooh, I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be)\nEven better than I was, even better than I was (I'm gonna be so good)\nEven better than I was (So good, so good, so good, yeah)\n(I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be)\n(I'm gonna be so good) So, so, so, so\nSo, so\nSo, so, so, so\nSo, so, so, so\nSo, so, so, igh\n(I'm gonna be, I'm gonna be)\nSo, so\nSo, so\nSo, so\nSo, so, so\nDid a good ass job, did a good ass job\nAnd I'm good\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na\nIgh, igh, igh, igh, igh\nIgh"}
{"text":"Ooh, ooh, ooh, incredible\nMy Lord, incredible\nI believe\n\nSocks on concrete, Jolly Rancher kids\nI was talkin' back and now I gotta stay at grandma's crib\nBunch of tank-top, nappy headed bike-stealin' Chatham boys\nNone of my niggas ain't had no dad\nNone of my niggas ain't have no choice\nJJ, Mikey, Lil Derek and them\n79th Street was America then\nIce cream truck and the beauty supply\nBlockbuster movies and Harold's again\nWe were still catchin' lightnin' bugs when the plague hit the backyard\nHad to come in at dark 'cause the big shorties act hard\nOkay now, day camp at Grand Crossing\nFirst day, niggas shootin'\nSummer school get to losin' students\nBut the CPD getting new recruitment\nOur summer don't, our summer, our summer don't get no shine no more\nOur summer die, our summertime don't got no time no more\n\n'Cause you're my friend\nSummer friends don't stay\nYou're my friend\nSummer friends don't stay, stay around\nSummer friends, summer friends\nYou're my friend\nSummer friends don't stay\nSummer friends don't stay, hey\nStay around here\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nOoh, I used to kill 'em with the long hair\nMama hair salon doin' perms out the armchair\nDad was workin' late, he treat the crib like it's a timeshare\nI would mow some lawns, fold my ones like a lawn chair, hugh, hugh\nNow I'm the same way, overtime all the time, every night, hey\nReady my blessin', now I'm ready how I wait\nNever let a friendship get in my way\nNever let a blog get in my way\nMake the whole song do whatever I say\n79th, 79th, 79th, hey\n79th, 79th, 79th, hey\nSome of my homegirls got lost in the paperwork\nThey was good friends but I faked the flirt\n'Cause if it ain't work, can't make it work\nIt's been a minute since I called on a friend\nFucked up and fucked all my friends\n\n'Cause you're my friend\nAll my friends\nYou're my friend\nAll my\u2014\nStick around\n\nSummer friends, summer\nYou're my friend\nSummer friends don't stick around\nStick around, yeah\nAnd some of us\n79th, 79th, 79th, hey\n79th, 79th, 79th, hey\n79th, 79th, 79th, hey, hey, hey\nYou're my friend\n79th, 79th, 79th, hey, 79th\nSo put your head on my shoulder\nCitywide, citywide, citywide, hey\nCitywide, citywide, citywide, hey\nCitywide, citywide, citywide, hey\nCitywide, citywide, citywide, hey\nCitywide, citywide, citywide\nCitywide, citywide, citywide\nCitywide, citywide, citywide\nCitywide, citywide, citywide\nI will wait around for you\nI will wait around for you\nSo lay your head on my table, lay your, lay your head on my table\nMay the Lord give your journey mercy\nMay you be successful, grant you favor\nAnd bring you back safely, I love you\n\nWhen I was so young before I could remember\nI would always treat my gang like family members\nEven when I changed, a nigga never changed up\nI always bring my friends, my friends, my friends, my friends up\nWhen I was so young before I could remember\nI would always treat my gang like family members\nEven when I changed, a nigga never changed up\nI always bring my friends, my friends, my friends, my friends up"}
{"text":"Ladies loving my music is like some sex shit\nNiggas trying to grip up my mic like it's a dick\n(On the mic like it's a dick)\nRun around the corner to pick up the new shit (The shit)\nToss this in the deck so niggas can catch rep\nLadies loving my music is like some sex shit\nNiggas trying to grip up my mic like it's a dick\nRun around the corner to pick up the new shit\nToss this in the deck so niggas can catch rep\n\nWhat's good good? And what's good evil?\nAnd what's good, gangstas? And what's good, people?\nAnd why God phone die every time that I call on Him?\nIf his son had a Twitter, wonder if I would follow Him\nSwallow them synonyms like cinnamon Cinnabon\nKeep all them sentiments down to a minimum\nStudious Gluteus Maxim models is sending him\nPics of they genitalia, tallied up ten of 'em\nI slurped too many pain-kills down, I'm off a lot\nI got a lot of off days, but it ain't often that I'm off the clock\nYou know what I mean, I got the Chicago Blues\nWe invented rock before the Stones got through\nWe just aiming back 'cause the cops shot you\nBuck buck, bang bang, yelling \"Fuck Fox News\"\nBooyaka buckle up, motherfuck opps too\nAin't no knuckling up 'em young 'cause it just not cool\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nNice to see you, Father New Year\nMiddle finger Uncle Samuel\nShooting death with weighted dice\nAnd hitting stains on birthday candles\nI know somebody, somebody loves my ass\n'Cause they help me beat my demon's ass\n\nEverybody's somebody's everything\nI know you right\nNobody's nothing\nThat's right\nEverybody's somebody's everything\nI know you right\nNobody's nothing\nThat's right\nEverybody's somebody's everything\nThat's right\nNobody's nothing, nobody's nothing (Right? Igh)\nI know you're right\n\nI used to tell hoes I was dark light or off-white\nBut I'd fight if a nigga said that I talk white\nAnd both my parents was black\nBut they saw it fit that I talk right\nWith my drawers hid but my hard head stayed in the clouds like a lost kite\nBut gravity had me up in a submission hold\nLike I'm dancing with the Devil with two left feet and I'm pigeon-toed\nIn two small point ballet shoes with a missing sole\nAnd two missing toes\nBut it's love like Cupid kissing a mistletoe\nNice to see you, Father New Year\nMiddle finger Uncle Samuel\nShooting death with weighted dice\nAnd hitting stains on birthday candles\nI know somebody, somebody loves my ass\n'Cause they help me beat my demon's ass\n\nLike Cassius ducking the draft and now the fight is over\nThe type to love from a distance, not the type that told her\nSpent three days on the rap, trash it and type it over\nWith babies on the block underarms like fighting odors\nCoppers and quotas, hold ya head like 2Pac had taught\nObviously, they are on a come up\nWith better chances tobogganing in the fucking summer\nConcoctions for the bad days and a condom for the good ones\nAll odds against us, we tryna get lucky, doper than Lucky\nYou're ending happy, that's only a tugging\nLike Satan masturbating, shit come hot, but y'all still love me\nUgh, how Father Time a deadbeat? Maybe I'm adopted\nThat'll explain why all of my shit been so timeless, igh\n\nEverybody's somebody's everything, nigga\nNobody's nothing, nigga\nEverybody's somebody's everything, nigga\nNobody's nothing at all\nWu-Tang\nEverybody's somebody's everything\nThat's right\nNobody's nothing\nI know you're right"}
{"text":"Yup, yup, yerp\nAnd then the smoke got me\nHey\n\nI got muscles like Superman's trainer, ayy (Ooh)\nReal real rare like Super Saiyan manga\nI jump stomp-stomp on Lucifer, Satan (Skrrt)\nNow I got a few rings on, Jupiter skating (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI meant to say Saturn, switched up the pattern (Blaow)\nSmoking on some shatter (Ooh)\nGot me higher than a ladder (Ooh)\nThanks, I'm flattered, my baby mama badder (Yeah)\nYou look like Mick Jagger, oops, the grease splattered (Ooh, ooh)\nHot, hot (Ooh)\nJumping out the grease\nIt's a whole lotta degrees\n'Bout to come up out the fleece, fleece, fleece\nShh, I don't wanna hear a peep (Skrr)\nTryna catch some sleep (Yeah), tryna count some sheep (Yeah, yeah)\n\nHot damn, hot water, hot shower (Brrt)\nHotlanta, smoking green, cauliflower (Ooh, ooh)\nTangerine, yeah, I call her sweet and sour (Yeah)\nAnd my lawyer say it's urgent, I'ma call him in a hour\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nDude, I just called the plug and his phone was unplugged\nI was lookin' at Doug like (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\nDude, that shit don't even make no fucking sense\nLike having fuckin' arguments for payin' fifty extra cents for barbecue\nSaucing on the workers at McDonald's\nI don't wanna sit and argue, Good Burger shoulda taught you\nWe all dudes\nAnd I'm all professional and proper\nBut my baby mama stopped me in a meeting (Skrrt, skrrt)\nJust to AirDrop me some nudes\n\nHot damn, hot water, hot shower (Brrt)\nHotlanta, smoking green, cauliflower (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\nTangerine, yeah, I call her sweet and sour\nAnd my lawyer say it's urgent, I'ma call him in a hour (Ooh)\n\nYeah, hopped off the flight, Louis V, Off-White (Ooh)\nI just made a dub and she tryna spend the night (Uh)\nHeard they need more, yeah, my jeans Dior (Ooh)\nShawty got cake if you tryna eat more (Skrrt, skrrt)\nThink they need more, I think they need more (Ooh, brrt, ooh)\nThis the second round, I'm tryna speed more (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\nGoing stupid, going crazy (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBig gas in that Mercedes (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\nPull up lit, uh, going 30 (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nPull up Vic, uh, in a hurry (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nShoot your shot, uh, flex a lot (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\nBig cheese, uh, hella knots (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\nChopped and screwed, Michael Watts (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\nPoint 'em out, air 'em out (Skrrt, skrrt)\nGet me right, sippin' Sprite (Skrrt, skrrt)\n180, halfpipe (Skrrt, skrrt)\nOoh\nHot damn, hot water, hot shower\nHotlanta, smoking green, cauliflower\nTangerine, yeah, I call her sweet and sour\nAnd my lawyer say it's urgent, I'ma call him in a hour\n\nGoddamn\nThink I got a new lawsuit, I need to come see you (What's that?)\nI got a new whip, you know what a car do\nTurn your bitch to a eater (Mmh, mmh)\nShe say we don't got enough room to get freaky in here\n'Cause it's just a two-seater (Okay, question)\nAm I still considered a trick if I get her a hoopty\nAnd buy me a Bimmer? (Uh-uh)\nI had a new case but the judge had to throw it out\nMy lawyer beat it like Tina\nI always find a way to get ahead with my intelligence\nWhen they critique my demeanor (Hah)\nToday I'll dress up a Republican (What else?)\nAnd go get some head from a white man's daughter\nHer lips aren't big but I'm loving it (Mwah)\nI get in, fake ID, I'm McLovin it (Yeah)\nBDB ENT like the government (What?)\nExcept for the cops (Who?), mission impossible\nStrapped with the Glock, Danny Gloverin'\nTip a hundred if you let my cousin in\nYou know everybody my cousin (Cuz)\nOh yeah, and I gotta be thuggin' it\n'Cause my hair can get nappy as fuck\nI wear jewelry and I got that chocolate coloring\nWell at least, like you know, that's what they make me feel like\nWhy they make you feel like that?\nI don't know, I mean it's America, right?\n\nOoh, hot damn, hot water, hot shower\nHotlanta, smoking green, cauliflower (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\nTangerine, yeah, I call her sweet and sour\nAnd my lawyer say it's urgent, I'ma call him in a hour"}
{"text":"If this is my last sh- my last shit\nUh, it definitely be mad important\nAnd it would have to sound like a Prince song\n\nStill a chain-smoking, name dropping\nGood looking, muhfucking, motha, shut your mouth\nStill a chain-smoking, name dropping\nGood looking, muhfuckin', motha, shut your mouth\nBrain broken, Frank Ocean listening, stain hitting\nSatin woodgrain gripping, paint dripping, motha, shut your mouth\n\nSomebody pray for the god, oh lord\nI wonder what Michael's on\nSon jammin' to his shit, rappin', trappin', trippin' 'cid\nAnd sniffing glue and chewing Vicodin\nShoulda died, yelling YOLO was a lie\nAnd you a liar wonder why you wanna die so young\nYou and I look just alike\nAnd I'm afraid that this one right here\nMight be last time that I write a song\nLot of niggas wanna go out with a bang\nBut I ain't tryna go out at all\nSo I ain't tryna go out at all\nGot a lot of ideas still to throw out the door\nLast Chance joint gotta be a dance joint\nFrom an introspective drugged out standpoint\nThrow bands joint, wanna hold hands joint\nOld school for my own old man joint\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nStill a chain-smoking, name dropping\nGood looking, muhfuckin', motha, shut your mouth\nBrain broken, Frank Ocean listening, stain hitting\nSatin woodgrain gripping, paint dripping, motha, shut your mouth\n\nThis part right here, right now, right here, this part my shit\nI play this so loud in the car, I forget to park my whip\nI lean back, then spark my shit, I turn up, I talk my shit\nHope you love all of my shit, I hope you love all of my shit (Igh)\n\nWhy toss my filter when she saving my life?\nThe same shit that kills us, always feels so right\nThat's why I pray to the dealer, God know who he be\nTruth be told, he juiced me, introduced me to the lucy leaf\nOh-oh-oh, I seen the light, I lost my lighter\nBic flick, kick the habit and the bucket, fuck your supplier\nLies, Levis on fire, flyer on the wall, I'm brighter\nIn the darkness of the night, in the sky I get higher, higher\n\nStill a chain-smoking, name dropping\nGood looking, muhfucker, motha, shut your mouth\nBrain broken, Frank Ocean listening, stain hitting\nSatin woodgrain gripping, paint dripping, motha, shut your mouth\nThis part right here, right now, right here, this part my shit\nI play this so loud in the car, I forget to park my whip\nI lean back, then spark my shit, I turn up, I talk my shit\nHope you love all of my shit, I hope you love all of my shit (Igh)\n\nI'm still a chain-smoking, name dropping\nGood looking, muhfuckin', motha, shut your mouth\nBrain broken, Frank Ocean listening, stain hitting\nSatin woodgrain gripping, paint dripping, motha, shut your mouth\nIgh!"}
{"text":"\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do (Huh)\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do (And we back, and we back, and we back, and we back)\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do, do-do, do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do (Huh)\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do (And we back, and we back)\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do (And we back)\nDo-do, do-do, do\n\nThey ain't teaching taxes in school\nIt don't even matter, I was acting a fool\nBut who would think the raps would turn into racks?\nDon't matter, matter fact, it could happen to you\nScars on my head, I'm the boy who lived\nThe boy love playing when the boy too sick\nReclining on a prayer, I'm declining to help\nI've been lying to my body, can't rely on myself, oh, no\nLast year, I got addicted to Xans\nStarted forgetting my name and start to missin' my chance\nL.A. for four months, end up leaving right back\nI'm in love with my city, bitch, I sleep in my hat, uh\nI felt hogtied ever since my dog died\nHe lived to 84, damn, that's a long ride\nI know he up there, he just sit and he wait\nI'll be racing up the stairs, I'ma get to the gate, singing\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do, do-do, do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do, do-do, do\n\nOh, all my days\nI prayed and prayed\nAnd now I see the finish line\nOh, I'm gonna finish mine, yeah\nAll my days\nI prayed and prayed\nAnd now I see the finish line\nGonna finish mine, yeah (Hey)\n\nGimme the water, gimme the water, I need the kind from Space Jam\nGet this money, get this budget, KOK to day camp\nMe and my girl plan to stay to the end\nHope there never come a day where we be better as friends\nWe in a marathon we could build a marriage on\nArguments as parents digging deeper than a baritone\nI've been getting blocked just tryna make songs with friends\nLabels told me to my face that they own my friends\nI got to pray, I got to pray, like Hammer after \"2 Legit\"\nI got the power, I could poke Lucifer with crucifix\nI cannot scrape off stupid shit, I stand up like I'm Ludacris\nI know some folks that talk so much, you'd think they drive an Uber whip, damn\nQueen said, \"Why we in a queen bed?\"\nI said, \"It's yours, don't worry, lil' beanhead\"\nI'm just here to catch my breath, I got the world tattooed\nShe said, \"Cool, just bring me some food\"\nOh, all my days\nI prayed and prayed\nAnd now I see the finish line\nOh, I'm gonna finish mine, yeah\nAll my days\nI prayed and prayed\nAnd now I see the finish line\nI'm gonna finish mine, yeah\n\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do, do-do, do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do-do, do-do, do-do\nDo-do, do-do, do\n\nAlright, we got it\n\n\nThe water may be deeper than it's ever been\nLord rain down on me so I can move on water\nLike children at the altar, like God inside my house\nI love you, I love you, you looking holy like Mama\nYou made a church out of feathers, so when she fly to the Father\nShe know the choir gon' follow and all the offering paid\nShe gave my name away to your holy house\nShe like my blessings in disguise\nShe like her Jesus mountain high\nSo He can watch her lonely child, I know my God\nI know my God, seen His breaks and His edges\nAre jagged for giving that pain to His city in gold\nLike everything is everything\nLike all them days He prayed with me\nLike emptiness was tamed in me\nAnd all that was left was His love\nAnd all that was left was His love\nAnd all that was left was His love\nAnd all that was left was His love\n\nNever, never drown\nThe water may be deeper than it's ever been\nNever drown\nThe water may be deeper than it's ever been\nNever drown\nNever, never, never (Chance, let me in, come on)\nThis thirst in my soul (There's a thirst in my soul, it tell me)\nWhere else can I go? (Where?) but You? (Come on)\nI may cry a river (I may cry a thousand tears, but)\nBut You take each drop and You wash (You wash me new)\nMe new (People sing)\nThis water is deep (Yes, yes and I need You to)\nJesus, rescue me (Come on, save me, I need You to)\nTake me to Your mountain (Hallelujah)\nSo someday Chicago will be free (Someday, we'll all be free)\nBe free (Say)\n\nThe water may be deeper than it's ever been\nNever drown\nThe water may be deeper than it's ever been\nNever drown"}
{"text":"How great is our God?\nSing with me, how great is our God?\nAll will see, how great is our God? (Ooh)\nHow great (How great), is our God? (Oh)\nSing with me, how great (How great), is our God?\nAll will see, how great, how great, is our God? (Ooh)\nName above all names (Name above all names)\nWorthy of all praise (And my heart will)\nAnd my heart will sing how great (How great) is our God?\nName above all names (Name above all name)\nWorthy of all praise (Worthy of all praise)\nAnd my heart will sing (My heart will sing), how great is our God? (Woah-oh, oh-oh)\nHow great (How great), is our God? (Is our God?)\nSing with me (Won't you sing?), how great is our God? (And all will see)\nAll will see how great (How great, how great), is our God? (Oh)\n(How great), how great (How great is), is our God?\nSing with me (Sing with me), how great is our God? (And all will see)\nAll will see how great (How great), how great (How great)\nHow great (How great), how great (How great)\nHow great, how great is our God? Oh\n\nThe first is that God is better than the world's best thing\nGod is better than the best thing that the world has to offer\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nMagnify, magnify, lift it on high\nSpit a Spotify to qualify a spot on his side\nI cannot modify or ratify, my mama made me apple pies\nLullabies and alibis, the book don't end with Malachi\nDevil will win employee of the month by the dozen\n'Til one score and three years from the third when he doesn't\nMy village raised 'em a child, come through the crib and it's bustin'\nYou meet anyone from my city, they gon' say that we cousins\nShabach, Barak, edify\nElectrify the enemy like Hedwig 'til he petrify\nAny petty Peter Petigrew could get the pesticide,\n79th, 79th\nI don't believe in science, I believe in signs\nDon't believe in signing, I seen dollar signs, color white collar crime\nGood God, the gift of freedom\nHosanna Santa invoked and woke up slaves from Southampton to Chatham Manor\nMy dream girl's behind me, feel like I'm James Early\nThe type of worship make Jesus come back a day early\nWith the faith of a pumpkin seed-sized mustard seed\nHear, for I will speak noble things as entrusted me\nOnly righteous, I might just shrug at the skullduggery\nI couldn't stand to see another rapper lose custody\nExalt, exalt, glorify, descend upon the earth with swords\nAnd fortify the borders where your shortage lies\nI used to hide from God, ducked down in the slums like \"shhh\"\nI was lost in the jungle like Simba after the death of Mufasa\nNo hog, no meerkat\nHakuna matata by day, but I spent my night-time fighting tears back\nI prayed and prayed and left messages\nBut never got no hear-back or so it seemed\nA mustard seed was all I needed to sow a dream\nI build the ark to gently, gently row my boat down Noah's stream\nSometimes the path I took to reach my petty goals was so extreme\nI was so far down in the mud\nCouldn't even let my light shine\nBut you was always there when I needed to phone a friend or use a lifeline\nFrom a lofty height we wage war\nOn the poltergeist with the exalted Christ\nSpark the dark with the pulse of light\nStrike a corpse with a pulse of life\nI spit on the Tidal, it's tidal waves\nI spit on the Apple and kill a worm\nA fire in Cali'll swallow a valley for every African village burned\nJay Elect would've never made it\nO' son of man, O' son of man\nWho was the angel in Revelations with a foot on water and a foot on land?\nWho was the angel that rode a Harley from the project to the house of Parliament?\nAnd opened the book in the Devil's chamber\nAnd put the true name of the Lord in it?\nOld Jerusalem, New Jerusalem\nComes like this beast with a ball of fire\nThey poisoned the scriptures and gave us the pictures of false messiahs, it was all a lie\nMystery Babylon tumbling down\nSatan's establishment crumbling down\nThis is the year that I come for the crown\nBury my enemies under the ground"}
{"text":"Smoking the bowl\nWe just been smoking, uh\u2014\nWe just been smoking the bowl\nWe just been smoking the bowl\nWe just been\nWe just been smoking the bowl\nWe just been smoking the bowl\nWe just been smoking the, we just\nThe fuck is going on?\nWhen did we buy a bowl?\n\nWe just been smoking the bowl\nWe don't got no time to roll\nI'm always out on the road\nShe don't got time for a whole\nLil' bit of time that we have\nWe used to purchase a half\nIt don't be no time to smoke\nI'm always throwing on clothes\nShe always throwing a fit\nWe don't got no time for no sex\nI just put milk in the bowl\nShe don't be cooking at all\nShe just put weed in the bowl\nShe don't have time for herself\nShe putting points on the board, yes\nYou know she carry her own\nYou know she carry the child\nShe wake up at crack of dawn\nShe don't be cracking a smile\nSo when she packing the bowl\nI grab her, I tell her\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nLet me crack this blunt\nSlow it down for a second\nBreak it down, ooh\nShe said, \"Let me lick this blunt\"\nSlow it down for a second\nBreak it down, ooh\nWe deserve, we deserve (We deserve)\nWe deserve a smoke break\nWe deserve, we deserve\nWe deserve a smoke break\n\nTruth being told\nWe used to movies and bowl\nWe used to Netflix and roll\nI used to pass her the smoke\nShe used to laugh at my jokes\nYou pat my back when I choke\nWish we were stuck in our ways\nWe way too young to get old\nWe stuck together like oowops\nWe smoke to Fetty, sing \"ZooWap\"\nTraphouse 3, Guwop\nI should've knew when I grew up\nIt would be no time at all\nWe went from White Owls to Raws\nWe went from joints to a bowl\nShe need a second to breathe\nWe need a actual smoke sesh\nLet me crack your back\nSlow it down for a second\nTake it down, ooh\nLet me run this back\nSlow it down for a minute\nYou deserve, you deserve\nWe deserve, we deserve (We deserve)\nWe deserve a smoke break\nWe deserve, we deserve\nWe deserve a smoke break\n\nI don't have time to finesse\nI put some ice on your neck\nBut I ain't holding you back\nI spend my time on the road\nSuper ain't saving no hoes\nI don't have time to patrol\nLet me break these bales right down for a second\nWhen it touch down, ooh\nI got to lay back the roof\nI got her breakin' the rules\nShe can't be taking no calls\nWhen she involved with a boss\nPlease don't get lost in the sauce\nPlease don't get lost in the sauce\nShe been like this from the door\nTold me her mom was a ho\nI gave her Percs for herself\nI give her Perc for esteem\nI'm tryna crown me a queen\nYou hear the chains when they cling\nI take that molly, it's clean\nI push the whip with the wings\nI gotta be overseas\nI gotta be on the pedal\nI push it down to the floor\nI got designer galore\nI keep some Goyard and 'gars\nI smoke out all of my cars\nYou smell the weed in the air\nYou smell the smoke in the seats\nYou went and had our child\nYou didn't abandon the D\nYou got me twisted at least\nYou can\nLet me crack your back\nLet me rub you all over\nTake it down, ooh\nLet me make this blunt\nMake you dinner or somethin'\nYou deserve, you deserve\nWe deserve, we deserve (We deserve)\nWe deserve a smoke break\nWe deserve, we deserve\nWe deserve a smoke break"}
{"text":"\nNa na na, na na na\nNa na na, na na na\nNa na na, na na na\n\nIntroducin' Chance the Ruthless, trip 'shrooms and lucy\nDreams is lucid, loosely based on music, swallow my mucus\nHope your pussy get herpes and yo' ass get lupus\nDeuces Douches, deuce deuce, I'll shoot ya (Bang)\nShoes might boot ya and a suit might suit ya\nThey be on bullshit but they really don't do shit\nThey use of allusion could confuse Confucius\nNasty, ashy, cigarette ashing 'til my voice get raspy\nLast week suspended, last night kissed Va$htie\nParleyed with Ashley, always in the hallway\nSo I never been classy (Hahaha)\nShut up\n\nNa na na, na na na\nNa na na, na na na\nNa na na, na na na\n(Igh, igh, igh, igh)\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nAcid, acid, get it? Acid\nMelts through plastic, I spit fired\nPad my palette, talkin' paper if this was work, I'd get higher\nPardon my mishaps, burp and get murdered\nFart and get bitch-slapped, like bourbon mixed with Jack\nLickety-split, look it, he slipped on a shell\nFrom peelin' banana splits back, give me my Kit-Kat\nDon't break me off shit, batch, fack is you mean bitch?\nZan with that lean bitch, xan with that lean bitch\nZen with that chakra I eat it like Idi Amin\nYa kna' wha' mean, hit me back when that mean shit\n\nNa na na, na na na\nNa na na, na na na (Uh)\nNa na na, na na na (It's me, uh)\nAh-ooh, ah-ooh, ah-ooh, ah-ooh\nAh-ooh, ah-ooh\nNah-nah-ooh (Uh)\nNah-ooh (Yeah), nah-ooh\nAh-ooh (Uh), ah-ooh, ah-ooh\n\nIntroducin', it\u2019s Bronsonli\u00f1o (It's me)\nWith my hair slicked back, I look like Rick Pitino\nThree Japanese dykes in my El Camino (Haha)\nLettin' trees blow, oh, I rep the East Coast\nI got a team of hoes like Pat Summitt\nI look like Arnold Schwarzenegger in a black Hummer\n(Get to the chopper)\nI splash summer like a fast brother, with a number on his back\nAin\u2019t no fumblin', in fact, I'm back, acid in my hat\nShoot, then pass the gat\nIt's at the bottom of the river in a plastic bag (Bag)\nMy new shorty got a gymnastic back\n'87 emerald green on a classic jag, uh\nShe had the cleft palate, I ordered chef\u2019s salad (Okay)\nShe had the club foot (What else?), with that little arm (Hahaha)\nI couldn\u2019t help but laugh, she ordered Chicken Parm\nI had the full Bulls warm-up with the Pippens on, it's me\nNa na na, na na na\nNa na na, na na na\nSuck my motherfucking dick\nIt's the young Randy Velarde\nQueens, baby (Uh)\nNa na na, na na na\nNa na na, ah-uh-uh, uh\nBlow me"}
{"text":"Chance the motherfuckin' Rapper\nWith a capitalized, uh, times\nNot the times but you know what I'm saying, the times, bruh\nLil Boat\nChance\nThugger!\nLil Boat\n\nAm I the only nigga still care about mixtapes? (Hell no!)\nAm I the only nigga still care about mixtapes?\nI'm the only nigga still care about mixtapes\nBad little bitch, wanna know how lips taste\n(She curious, she curious)\nI swear that I'm the only nigga still care about mixtapes\nBad little bitch, wanna know how the lips taste\nAll I can hear is the third, ayy\nAll I can hear is the third, ayy\nWe don't know none of your words, ayy\nWe don't know none of your words, ayy\nI like my women real tall, ayy\nType that can really play ball, ayy\nYou buy my hat at the park, ayy\nThink I might really play ball, ayy\nI got a link in my bio\nMy bitch do the salsa like pico de gallo\nThey gotta ask if they may, Cinco de Mayo\nHow can they call themselves bosses\nWhen they got so many bosses?\nYou gotta see what your boss say\nI get it straight out the faucet\nI ain't felt like this since the third Drought, third Carter drop\nTold my momma third grade I'd be in the third Barbershop\nAnd yeah, my momma got real worried when she heard I college dropped\nBut now I call the shots\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nI'm the only nigga still care about mixtapes\nBad little bitch wanna know how lips taste\n(She curious, she curious)\nI swear that I'm the only nigga still cares about mixtapes\nBad little bitch wanna know how lips taste\n\nBad little mama, she gettin' it Obama\nShe sting like a bumblebee, hot as the sauna\nShe shine like a Rollie, got that from her momma\nCan't see me, can't be me, I'm ridin' like a panda\nThat booty gon' roll and it's outta control\nAnd these bitches gon' fuck off respect and that loyalty\nAll my bitches lovin' me and they spoil me\nRub me down with that lotion, babe, oil me\nDrinking Actavis, baby, I'm slowin' me\nIn that choppa I see your perimeter\nChange the culture, 'cause my ring is a solar\nWait one minute, I told you\nYeah, I would like to know you\nYeah, you lucky like clovers\nYeah, the clothes no good\nMama I do it, the racks I pursue it\nJust look at me baby, I came from the sewers\nThey love all the slime ball\nLike they fuck all these cats on your slime dog\nI got me some rings like I'm Bruce Bowen\nI'm ballin' on you like I'm Chris Paul\nI'm the only nigga still care about mixtapes\nBad little bitch wanna know how lips taste\n(She curious, she curious)\nI swear that I'm the only nigga still care about mixtapes\nBad little bitch wanna know how lips taste\nAm I the only one who really care about cover art?\nGrowing up I ain't have my brother 'cause he said the streets gave him a fresh start\nI ain't know what that mean\nI bumped heads with my dean\nDropped out and hit the scene\nNow I'm stunting like bling\nTime and time again, they told me no\nThey told me I wouldn't go\n'Cause in high school all I cared about was hoes\nWell, maybe that shit was my interest\nNow I spend more than they make at my dentist\nAfter \"1 Night,\" them folks thought I was finished\nI pinned my name to the game like a seamstress\nOh, bitch, I bite like a gator\nFuck them reviews that they put in the paper\nDid what I wanted, didn't care about a hater\nDelivered my tape to the world as a caterer\nOh, they fuck with me 'cause I'm different\nNew sound, new appearance\nBitch, it's Boat from the 6\nGive a fuck about a bitch\nWalk with my hand on my dick, I'm the shit\nI'm the only nigga still care about mixtapes\nBad little bitch wanna know how lips taste\n(She curious, she curious)\nI swear that I'm the only nigga still care about mixtapes\nBad little bitch wanna know how lips taste"}
{"text":"Fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you (Yep)\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you (Nah-nah)\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you (Nah-nah)\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you (No)\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you\n\nI ain't no activist, I'm the protagonist\nI don't co-captain it, I fly solo like one cup in the cabinet\nThe cab is the cabinet, they trust me at landing it\nThey call me the advocate, they'll slide like the abacus\nBoy meets world, everybody been savages\nI just want to really know how much that your shooter averages\nI'm not no nice guy, I'm just the good guy\nThe bad guys should really stay on my good side\nI smelled my roses younger than the good die\nThe Illuminati couldn't see me with they good eye\nThey think they Heath Ledger scary, they just Jack Nichols\nI'm a sign to my city like the Bat-Signal\nYoung chosen one, golden boy, De La Hoya\nIt ain't too many me's, rest in peace to Verne Troyer\nI was younger than I seemed as a kid\nI mean my G17 18 in the head\nI mean I'm only 25 but I'm Motown 25\nBet I get a statue in my hometown when I die\nAnd Rahm, you done, I'm expectin' resignation\nAn open investigation on all of these paid vacations for murderers\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nFuck you, oh-oh\nFuck you, fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fuck you-ou-ou-ou\nFu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu, fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu\nFuck you, oh-oh\nFuck you, fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fuck you-ou-ou-ou\nFu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu, fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu\nFuck you, fu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, oh\n\nI don't get no paper, I gotta sign at the bottom\nStill in my bag like the fries at the bottom\nAnd I can't do nothing right, they gon' always be at me\nI missed a Crain's interview, they tried leaking my addy\nI donate to the schools next, they call me a deadbeat daddy\nThe Sun-Times gettin' that Rauner business\nI got a hit-list so long I don't know how to finish\nI bought the Chicagoist just to run you racist bitches out of business\nSpeaking of racist, fuck your microaggressions\nI'll make you fix your words like a typo suggestion\nPat me on the back too hard and Pat'll ask for your job\nAnd in unrelated news, someone'll beat your ass at your job\nI'm the real deal\nWho taught all these rappers that a big deal's not a big deal?\nInherited the earth, popping wheelies on a big wheel\nMy enemy lives in his mother's basement\nThat's why my videos don't got no Baphomet product placement\nI'm a real one\nThe honey is sweet, the apple's bitter\nThey'll try to convince you you stronger without your woman than when you with her\nAnd tell you they kidding while Twitter trashing your litter\nI know the devil's a liar\nI know that players is quitters, I heard you hire your hitters\nI know the higher the bidder, that mean the less on return\nSo I just hire a sitter\nI'm not no boss nigga, I'm a soldier\nKingdom builder, man somebody shoulda told ya\nFuck you\nFuck you, oh-oh\nFuck you, fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fuck you-ou-ou-ou\nFu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu, fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu\nFuck you, oh-oh\nFuck you, fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fuck you-ou-ou-ou\nFu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu, fu-fu-fu-fu-fu-fu\nFuck you, fu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you\nFu-u-u-u-u-uck you, fu-fuck you"}
{"text":"\nWell, I should have you hooked up next week\nIt's all good or whatever, I can wait 'til my birthday, I uh-\nNo, no, no, no. I told ya, I know you need it now, so next week I promise you I'll have you hooked up, okay?\nOh, alright\nI just wanted to say thank you for, uh, everything\nFor the, the computer and the t-shirts, and all the other stuff\nYou know, Chance, let me tell you something\nYou know, I could never be more proud of anything in my life, you know, than I am of you and what you've done\nChance, you have done remarkable and wondrous things, so you don't have to tell me thank you for anything\nI'm supposed to do this, that stuff for you anyway, and ya know\nJust keep doing what you're doing\nI am very, very proud of you\nJust keep doing what you're doing, okay?\nThank you, love you\nAlright, son, love you too, take care\nAlright, bye-bye\nThanks for coming, guys\n\n'Member sittin' in class the first time listening to Dilla\nEverything's good\nRubbin' on yo chin, sippin gin, Margiela brand chinchilla\nEverything's good\nMy manager backpack packed with packs of cigarillos\nAnd some fruit snacks, and some killers\nPhone numbers on speed dial, call them SaveMonkey gorillas\nEverything's good\nI ain't really that good at goodbyes, I ain't really that bad at leavin'\nI ain't really always been a good guy, I used to be thirsty thievin'\nRunnin through purses, even persons leave 'em hurtin', bleedin'\nI ain't really help the helpless, I used to be worse than worthless\nNow I'm worth hooks and verses, I'm good like books in churches\nHarold's and Hooks and Church's\nEverything's good\nSee my name when you Google search it\nUse a card when I make a purchase\nEverything's good\nBut I knew I was fly when I was just a caterpillar\nThat I'd make it even if I never make a mil'-uh\nWhen I meet my maker he gon' make sure that we chillin'\nAnd everything's good\nI ain't really that good at goodnight\nI ain't really that bad at sleepin'\nWith bad bitches, put 'em aside, I used to be thirsty creeping\nNow I'm out working evenings, birthdays, even Tuesdays\nWednesdays, Thursdays, weekends\nRehearsing verses\nMurdering merch and events\nDamn, it feel good to be a gangsta\nAnd it feel good for me to thank you\nPut money back in your bank account\nOff of songs I barely could think up\n'Cause a lot of songs niggas gon' make up\nMake sense, but they never gon' make a sound\nAnd I'm better than I was the last time, crescendo\nThanks Justin, lending them pencils\nMr. Menzies, Mensa, Chris Minto\nThe time I beat Chris on Nintendo\nNa-na-na, hey, hey, good intro\nRemember jacket shoppin' after listening to Thriller\nRemember the first time you heard this through\nAnd thought, \"Damn, that's that nigga\"\nEverything's good\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like"}
{"text":"\nHere's a tab of acid for your ear\nYou're the plastic, I'm the passion and the magic in the air\nThe flabbergasted avalanche of ambulances near\nThe labyrinth of Pan's Lab is adamantly here\nNo assignments, book of rhyming and I'm drawing doodles\nI should rhyme rhyme with Ramen Noodles\nRamadan, I'm the Don of the diamond jewels\nFond of finding a way to kindly tell these toddlers toodles\nI'm a kamikaze and I'm a kinda cuckoo\nI could write a fucking book, non-kamasutral\nYou niggas goofies, it's a conflict that is kinda crucial\nCaught you on the nine in all blue, yelling, \"I'm a neutral\"\nBut I'ma let the bull pass like matadors\nVersus a Minotaur, verse is a metaphor\nMetamorphoses and I'ma fuckin animorph\nI used to go to school with Anna Fedele & Danny Whorf\nRemember I used to bang with the bad ones\n'Til my grandmama told on her grandson\nMama said that I was way too handsome\nTo be throwing the hands, son, breaking walls like Samson\nBut I'ma throw a tantrum 'til I'm on every Samsung\nSanyo and handheld and handgun\nPlease put ya lighters up 'til life is up and light it up\nAnd slice a cut, the night is young, it's nice enough\nThe nicest blunt, the nicest stuff\nMy niggas out here trapping a lot\nI know you think you on, hiding Reggie sacks in your socks\nI hang with niggas, whole jab in the jock\n.44's for 15, yeah my nigga, we be taxing a lot\nOnly the goofies though, choking on a doobie though\nMy eyes do be low, two be rolled, remember days of the Rufio\nRemember the Days of Chan-Man and the Skeeter Man\nBrrang dang to Lil' B and bang a-rang to Peter Pan\nIgh! Nigga\nI burned, I, I bu-, I bu-, I burned\nI burned, I, I, I burned\nBr-br-br, hahahaha\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nI burned too many brain cells down\nTo be worried 'bout my brain cells now, nigga\nI burned too many brain cells down\nTo be worried 'bout my brain cells now, now, now, now\nI burned too many brain cells down\nTo be worried 'bout my brain cells now, igh\nI burned too many brain cells down\nDown, down, down, down, down\n\nLight a joint, or spliff it if you classy\nSplit a swisha witcha nigga if you ask me\nAin't no questions hit it vividly and pass me\nDon't answer about your problems\nOr your issues or your Ashleys\nIt's a quarter to imminent, ten minutes to infinite\nRims, Henny, and reminisce, nostalgia and M&M's\nCinnamon tone women and feminines getting intimate\nAll broads is frivolous, homies could get they dividends\nIs he illiterate? Literal syndicate\nIllegitimate, idiot, gangbanger affiliate\nSick twisted prick, sick sadistic\nSon of a biscuit, man, fuck this shit\nIgh, I burned too many brain cells down\nI burned, I burned, haha\nI burned too many brain cells down\nBurned too many brain cells down, sing it with me\nI burned too many brain cells down\nTo be worried 'bout my brain cells now\nI burned too many brain cells down\nBurned too many brain cells down, no, no\nI burned too many brain cells down\nTo be worried 'bout my brain cells now, nigga\nI burned too many brain cells down\nBurned too many brain cells down\nI burned too many brain cells down\nTo be worried 'bout my brain cells now, oh, no\nI burned too many brain cells down\nTo be worried 'bout my brain cells now, fuck 'em\nI burned too many brain cells down\nTo be worried 'bout my brain cells now\nI burned too many brain cells down\nI burned too many brain cells down"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsInterlude (That\u2019s Love) Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nWhat's better than tripping is falling in love\nWhat's better than Letterman, Leno, Fallon, and all the above\nWhat's better than popping bottles trying to ball in the club\nIs the first caveman pops with his son, ball and a club\nWhat's better than paper is ballin' it up\nWhat's better than followers is actually fallin' in love\nWhat's better than frolicking, follies, fallin' in mud\nRolling in green pastures, wanderin', followin' love\nWhat's better than eating is feeding your fam\nWhat's better than meetings is missing meetings to meet with your fam\nWhat's better than leaning and needing a Xan\nIs hitting your xan dreaming a dream could mean leaving the land\nWhat's better than yelling is hollerin' love\nWhat's better than rhymes, nickels, dimes and dollars and dubs\nIs dialing up your darling just for callin' her up\nIt ain't nothing better than fallin' in love\nIgh\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nI've seen it come back, back, back and forth\nYou hit the nail right on top of the head\nI know you've seen it all before\nBut when it looks you in the eyes\nIt ain't nothin' you could say but \"That's love\"\nThat's love\nThat's love\nThat's love\nSay that's love, ooh, ooh\nThat's love\nThat's love\nThat's love, that's love, that's love\nI love you (You love who?)\nI love you (Tell 'em who you love)\nI love you (You love who?)\nI love you (Yeah)\nI love you (Sing it right now)\nI love you (Love)\nI love you (Who do you love?)\nI love you (Love)\nI love you\nThat's love\nThat's love, that's love\nSay that's love, ooh, ooh, that's love (Love)\nThat's love, that's love, that's love, that's love, igh"}
{"text":"\nCharlie Bartlett, John Bender\nClass switcher, time bender\nChance Bennett, a peculiar name\nGraduation night teachers Ferris Bueller'd my name\nYou made a mixtape? Good job, I hope you get a good job\nWe was all outcasts, only listened to Good Mob\nI performed at fun fair, fun fact\nI'm never going back to school, been there, done that\nThey see my little 10 Day tape and my dumb raps\nDon't call it impossible, if you really want that\nThey send my ass to summer school, don't call it a comeback\nI just came to beat a bully's ass and get my lunch back\nChano y tequila, you know you know you don't want that\nI rap my songs in Spanglish, I wrap my weed in blunt wraps\nWrapped up in this one line I hope that shit get unwrapped\nAs if niggas was getting signed off of a line off one rap\nYo Vic, remember when they called us some freshmen niggas rapping?\nNow I ain't gonna be a freshman and I'm rapping\nI should've learned a lesson from all of this shit happening\nI just look over to Justin for refreshments of the Captain\nIt's sipping when it's weak sauce, it's shots if it's cracking\nSip it when we tear up, and chug it if we laughing\nFuck it if we're fucked up I never thought of Chatham\nUntil the day they said I would have to chat without 'em\nAnd I'm just in the studio hoping that it sounds right\nHere's a brighter bulb for your limelight\nAnd this is your night, homie, shine bright\nThis for everybody's fucking prom night\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nAnd it's alright, and it's okay\nAnd we're all good, we're with homies\nAny problems, you can call us\nIt's all love, it's all love\nAnd it's alright, and it's okay\nAnd we're all good, we're with homies\nAny problems, you can call us\nIt's all love, it's all love\n\nUh, yo, this prom shit feel like the Grammys, yo\nThese pictures Granny took gonna make me ask, \"Where'd Granny go?\"\nSo pass the Sanyo to Auntie Jo\nAnd snap a couple candids to the family, get some cameos\nYou can change the clocks but you can't change hours\nI'm waiting on the day Spring can't bring flowers\nLet me ask for minutes from dad for those campaign hours\nAnd pour these thirsty hoes a couple champagne showers\nAnd hop up in that limo, the hood going dummy\nThe hood fucking love me, the hood think we lovely\nSo go and pop some bubbly, this right here's to loyalty\nThis to a moment's glimpse at royalty\nThis is for my momma Jann who spoiled me\nLook what we've accomplished\nTime flies, watches look like magnets on a compass\nBefore we dip, Gladys said a prayer over the limo\nBumping 10 Day with the angels with Jesus shopping my demo\nAnd rode up out of Chatham, the whole hood clapping\nAnd damn it would be crazy if any of this shit had happened\nBut it didn't, I missed prom, I missed it to spin\nI did a show at AKIN and I would do it again\n'Cause it's alright, and it's okay\nAnd we're all good, we're with homies\nAny problems, you can call us\nIt's all love, it's all love\nAnd it's alright, and it's okay\nAnd we're all good, we're with homies\nAny problems, you can call us\nIt's all love, it's all love\n\nLook at, look at your business tux, all night airplane\nGo and get your racist on, all white everything\nI'm on my paper now, put that on my heading\nI ain't even write this down, I don't write e'rything\nI know y'all don't like everything\nShe want a night she can call her wedding\nGiving Eskimo kisses, with some Eskimo bitches\nNose diving, going all night sledding\nCoked out like, \"Don't change when you grow up\nI hope you get some change when you blow up\"\n'Cause honestly I've always loved the way that you could throw up\nRest up on my shoulder, float up, flying lotus\n\"You deserve a warm towel, you deserve a soda\nYou deserve a quiet room, you deserve a sofa\nYou deserve a Ferrari and a matching tiara\nAnd a hand to wipe away all that running mascara\"\nBut I, I want to thank you for this prom night\nThank you for this prom night\nThank you for this prom night\nI really enjoyed my prom night\nIt's alright, and it's okay\nAnd we're all good, we're with homies\nAny problems, you can call us\nIt's all love, it's all love\n\nSo good, so right, hey baby\nSo good, so right\nYou know it feels so good\nSo good, so right\nTo be with you tonight\nSo good, so right\nTo be with you tonight\nSo good, so right\nTo be with you tonight"}
{"text":"\nTurn the radio up and we can have a good time\nGot me feeling like J.J. on Good Times\nBack when Thelma had that ass, hope the fam good\nMy sister said she likes my raps 'cause it sounds good\nTold me not to cut corners, use to cut quarters\nSitting in the room, on the phone, cooking up orders\n'Til my pops popped me off, that was family matters\nUsed to watch him in the kitchen sipping Sammy Adams\nNow I'm rollin', iPhone Stolen\nMama whip with 5 of my guys, 4 holdin'\nTrying to live our lives like our lives are so golden\nGot big shoes to fill like try an' go bowling\n'Til we strike out, we just hoping we don't strike out\n4th quarter, how you gon go and take Mike out?\nSummertime Chi, I had to pull the bike out\nRiding, getting nice 'cause it's nice out\n\nLet's land in the land where the Famo stay\nGrind all day 'til the fam okay\nIt still warm my heart to hear my grandma pray\nFor the fam, all my friends, when my mans go away\nLet's land in the land where the Famo stay\nGrind all day 'til the fam okay\nIt still warm my heart to hear my grandma pray\nFor the fam, all my friends, when my mans go away\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nDon't wake up, don't wake up, don't wake up too fast\nDon't make up your mind, you should flake on that class\nSing all you want, just don't Drake on they ass\nShore you got drive, don't turn fake on they ass\nGood morning, good raps, good morrow, good luck\nTonight you could blow, tomorrow you suck\nBizarro, my carro, I borrowed from Chuck\nA new SLR and Ferraro deluxe\nNo money for the meter when I'm parkin' 'em\nGassed than a bitch no car with him\nMarket him, tell him that he's buzzing like a game of Operation with Parkinson's\nYoung kid rappers, kidnapper\nYoung whippersnappers that will whip past ya\nWill get at you, come get at you\nWanna break ya off, come Kit-Kat you\n\nLet's land in the land where the Famo stay\nGrind all day 'til the fam okay\nIt still warm my heart to hear my grandma pray\nFor the fam, all my friends, when my mans go away\nLet's land in the land where the Famo stay\nGrind all day 'til the fam okay\nIt still warm my heart to hear my grandma pray\nFor the fam, all my friends, when my mans go away\nNow the teamwork make the dream work\nGo ahead and send an application if you need work\nIf it need hurt, then I'ma bring hurt\nHow you finna see the clouds if you never seen dirt\nNow you finna play it loud, listen how it's goin' down\nDidn't know the name before bet you niggas know it now\nChi-City niggy, made a 50 out a penny\nGot some titties at the cribby and the Savemoney with me and we going in\nGoing all out for them hoes again\nNow I'm fin' to bring the fucking flow and bend it back\nAnd show it's more to this than rap\nLove my parents for supporting 'cause they know I'm finna crack\nKnow my niggas got my back, got some niggas selling packs\nBut I'm tryin' to get 'em cheese so I can get 'em out the trap\nNow my figures getting fat, a lot of hoes be tryin' to jack\nBut I got her on my lap, all she do is make it clap\n\nLet's land in the land where the Famo stay\nGrind all day 'til the fam okay\nIt still warm my heart to hear my grandma pray\nFor the fam, all my friends, when my mans go away\nLet's land in the land where the Famo stay\nGrind all day 'til the fam okay\nIt still warm my heart to hear my grandma pray\nFor the fam, all my friends, when my mans go away\nLet's land in the land where the Famo stay\nGrind all day 'til the fam okay\nIt still warm my heart to hear my grandma pray\nFor the fam, all my friends, when my mans go away\nLet's land in the land where the Famo stay\nGrind all day 'til the fam okay\nIt still warm my heart to hear my grandma pray\nFor the fam, all my friends, when my mans go away"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsNostalgia Lyrics\nHe should try enjoying life, rather than spending his time trying to outsmart me. While he's alive, that is\nI know what you're saying but it's not that simple, it's just human nature\nWhat's that guy doing, I wonder?\nI still got orange and white cassette tapes\nTents where my neighbors came to spectate\nNiggas that's tough now used to get little in the dark\nIt's all cool now, we're all little kids at heart\nAccident prone Chance, y'all remember 'bout\nThe time I cracked my head open at Auntie Linda's House?\nFrom diapers to outfits to castles to Elmos\nFrom Santas to Grandmas to Gameboys and cell phones\nRocked your world, fourth grade talent show\nJada and Justin's birthday magic show\nGames of tips taking niggas to school\nTwo quarters and I'll bust your ass at pool, on bull\nRound here we lose best friends like every week\nI like to think we playin' a long game of hide and go seek\nAnd one day maybe I'ma find Terrance and I could lead them\nKids of the Kingdom singing 'bout freedom\n\nHeads down, eyes shut, time to play Seven Up\nHeads bowed, hands clutched, bottles gone, Heavens up\nSmile comes through, though my eyes might cry\nWhen they reminisce over you, my God\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nLet's take it back like Indian givers\nTo Indian burns and Jiminy Crickets\nTo the smell of Pillsbury on biscuit mornings\nTo puffy winter coats and Christmas mornings\nI used to chill with the kids next door\nAnd SpongeBob came around 'bout four\nAnd then I'd hang with Bart's guys\nAround the bend was Smart Guy\nFlipping through the picture books\nChecking through my archives\nRemember the old days, the ones you'll never get back\nAt the end of parties, passing around gift bags\nNow we blow entire O's at one kick back\nMY$FITS and mismatch that get off like wrist slaps, uhh\n\nHeads down, eyes shut, time to play Seven Up\nHeads bowed, hands clutched, bottles gone, Heavens up\nSmile comes through, though my eyes might cry\nWhen they reminisce over you, my God\nWhen they reminisce over you, my God\n\nRemember Jeepers and Odyssey Fun World?\nYoung pimpin' like you oughta see one girl\nMama Jann, mama Charlie, and my mama Lisa\nBooster seat used to boost my kitty, Connie's Pizza\nAnd every year we made a Christmas list\nAnd Auntie Linda cooked a Christmas dish\nAnd all of our grandparents made a Christmas wish\nLike \"Lord, let me see another year like this\", uhh\nHeads down, eyes shut, time to play Seven Up\nHeads bowed, hands clutched, bottles gone, Heavens up\nSmile comes through, though my eyes might cry\nWhen they reminisce over you, my God\nWhen they reminisce over you, my God"}
{"text":"I believe that if I fly, prolly end up somewhere in paradise\nI believe that if I fly, I'll prolly end up somewhere in paradise\n\nChancelor the rapper, Chatham the hood\nSanta to children, had to bag up the goods\nThey say I'm savin' my city, say I'm stayin' for good\nThey screamin', \"Chano for mayor,\" I'm thinkin' maybe I should\nFucked a few A&R's, told 'em, \"Bitch I can\u2019t wife you\"\nTold your ass since day one, I don't like labels or titles\nI'm a rascally rabbit, I know that tricks is for addicts\nThat need fixes for habits, in love with carrots and cabbage\nI'm a savage, established, bad bitch magnet, I'm magic\nYour majesty, I'm majestic, I think my message is massive\nThink you passive aggressive\nI think you passed up your prime\nThink you passed up your chance to be Chance\nNow pass it to Arab\nI should have rhymed it with rhyme\nAin't we been here before?\nAin't my principal told me that I can't rap at that show?\nThen I rapped at that show, simple as that\nGot a complex from Complex off of the simplest raps\nAnd it goes like...\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nFannin' the fire, hands is up higher\nCannot believe it, damn I'm a rider\nRidin' on twenties, twenty years prior, I couldn't buy a\nForget it you get it\nGod is so awesome, devil's a liar\nTake 'em to church, but I need a choir\n\nI believe that if I fly, prolly end up somewhere in paradise\nI believe that if I fly, I'll prolly end up somewhere in paradise\n\nBlow out your speakers, roll some more loud\nThat's the sound of the reefer, I think my parents is proud\nThank my fans in the bleachers\nThink my teachers need features\nI think I'm walkin' with Jesus, I knew my feet wouldn't drown\nI been close to the edge, I been trippin' and stuff\nSomebody slipped me a mickey but I ain't giving a fuck\nReally, a milli'? How 'bout six billion more\nOr I'm outie like how'd he cut that umbilical cord?\nAs I smoke herb in this Uber suburban dressed in an Urban Outfitters\nShirt and burgundy pair of Jordans\nI asked the acid if words were worth worryin' over\nHer explanation seemed agitated\nShe said let me answer your question\nWith some questions questionin' yours\nLike why the devil can't get you?\nAnd why these labels can't catch you?\nAnd why'd he make you so special, why did he bless you?\nThink about it\nI woke up this mornin', I woke up this mornin'\nGotta smile when I say that shit, I woke up this mornin'\nGo!\nFannin' the fire, hands is up higher\nCannot believe it, damn I'm a rider\nRidin' on twenties, twenty years prior, I couldn't buy a\nForget it you get it\nGod is so awesome, devil's a liar\nTake 'em to church, but I need a choir\n\nI believe, I believe, there's somewhere out there for us all\nThere's a paradise (there is a paradise)\nI believe that if I die, I'll see my homies somewhere in paradise\n(I'll see 'em somewhere in paradise)\n\nFannin' the fire, hands is up higher\nCannot believe it, damn I'm a rider\nRidin' on twenties, twenty years prior, I couldn't buy a\nForget it you get it\nGod is so awesome, devil's a liar\nTake 'em to church, but I need a choir\n\nI believe, I believe, I believe\nSomewhere in paradise\nI believe, I believe, I believe\nSomewhere in paradise\nI believe, I believe, I believe"}
{"text":"88 Contributors14,400 Minutes Lyrics\n\nYep, igh, igh, igh\n\nI got suspended, ooh, you got suspended\nFor chiefin' a hunnid blunts, 14,400 minutes\nFans all in the stands, they hands for Mr. Bennett\nThat racket over the net, ooh, give me my tennis\nShoes, give me a minute, ooh, I can't be tardy\nMy class is already started, they told my mom I'm retarded\nBut that 10 Day done in one night, Honda from a Hyundai\nNo tassel in the spring, but after summer I'm alumni\nThey took my nigga one night, and I was standing right there\nAn inch away from Heaven, a million songs from right here\nA step away from South By, a swing away from Cali\nA hook away from verses, I'm a dad away from rapping\nSo at the school they arrested him, back seat, squad car, nestled in\nShouts to the bitch nigga Heselton\nWit' his Big Show body ass wrestlin'\nFinna see the 10 Day Pestilence, so far, so good, so special and\nNo stars, good jobs, or excellents\nAnd I'm still so fucking non-echelon\nOoh, you got suspended, ooh, you not gon' finish\nOoh, you look familiar, ooh, you look like Kenneth\nDamn, they gon' resent it, ooh, you representin'\nA class of bad kids, 14,400 minutes, ahh\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nIgh, igh, igh, igh, igh, igh, igh, igh (Ayy)"}
{"text":"There's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nSo you know\nThere's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nGonna be okay\nThere's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nSo you know\nThere's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nGonna be okay\n\nI could spare a rib to get my baby back\nI just wanna fall asleep where my baby at\nSo I don't wake up wondering where my baby at\nI wonder if we'll make it back\nI wonder \"Can I pay her back, please\"\n65th and Ingleside\nWay before Jamie got his jingles right\nI was sleeping with you every single night\nBut I was still tryna act single right\n65th and Ingleside\nI was stacking chips like bingo night\nI didn't have to pay for a single light\nSo I'ma make sure everything go right\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nThere's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nSo you know\nThere's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nGonna be okay\n\nYour sister owned the house we lived in\nOn the East Side that you rented\nLittle two flat, inexpensive\nI didn't have a glove to pitch in\nI didn't have a pot to piss in\nNot to mention in Dro City\nNot a lot of jobs with pensions\nAll my raps was 'bout suspension\nThen one day Donald took me on tour\nYoung broke Chano ain't broke no more\nThought you wouldn't want me come and darken your doorstep\nBut I still haven't given you what's yours yet\n65th and Ingleside\nMoved downtown for a single life\nNone of my stars ever twinkled bright\n'Til God decide to come bring you by\nThere's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nSo you know\nThere's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nGonna be okay\n\nWhere's the return on investment? My first A&R\nThat shit was played unless you would hit play in the car\nWe hit the Shell station, I tell you stay in the car\nBack in the spot, don't put it in park\nLeave that bitch running in case I come running\nAnd skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, grab the gold SCAR\nThere it get late 'fore it's dark\nKensli couldn't play in the park\nNow she could play in the stars\nHigh rise, eye to eye with fireworks\nSo high your ears fire, they might've burst\nEvery time they buy a verse, I buy a purse\nBut you can't buy back time, that's just not how it works\nThree jobs, you afforded the crib\nFuck child support, you supported the kid\nA full rack a month, nothing short of my rib\nSo you first up, go in order of dibs\nMy big homie told me, \"Nigga growth and development\nGo and settle down, don't settle for settlement\"\nShe got you closer to God than you two ever been\nShe moved over from Evanston, you moved over from Eggleston\nFirst lady you knew, you can't marry her?\nGot shit sonny, now you can't share?\nNew Dad step in, you can\u2019t stare?\nYou knew the power in the woman that could lead you in prayer\nOn 65th and Ingleside\nFeel like you remember every single lie\nTruth is I just really need your finger size\nSo I can make sure that they make the ring so tight\nThere's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nSo you know\nThere's a way, out of no way\nSwear I know everything's gonna be okay\nGonna be okay"}
{"text":"\nHey ma, hey ma, hey ma\nHey ma, hey ma, hey ma\nI said, \"Hey ma,\" don't go stretching your wallet\nThese niggas gotta pay me for taking a year from college\nGo on, get ya nails polished, stylist for your eyelids\nAnd a pilot for your mileage for them frequent flights to your island\nMs. Brown and Ms. Pollock, little boy done grown up\nLittle voice done blown up, middle-class that bonus\nHey ma, hey mama Jann; God just gave me another chance\nRod just gave me another line, probably gave me another fan\n7-7-3, Oh, since Kanye was a three-old\nDown the street from D. Rose, was practicing his free-throws\nShout out to that Gulf Shrimp, shout out to King Gyro\nShout out that Ms. Moody, auntie Toni, them my heroes\n\nWe gon' get this paper (Put that on my mama)\nYou gon' see us laid up (Put that on my mama)\nMonica and Ava, thanks for all the favors\nGot my money saved up (Put that on my mama)\nWe gon' get this paper (Put that on my mama)\nYou gon' see us laid up (Put that on my mama)\nMonica and Ava, thanks for all the favors\nGot my money saved up (Put that on my mama)\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nHey ma, hey ma, I know I never did behave a lot\nNever got good grades a lot\nAnd turned your hairs to grays a lot\nAnd go in stores and take a lot\nAnd never shopped, but saved a lot\nSo you ain't gotta shop at Save A Lot\nAnd you ain't gotta worry about Chase a lot\nThey playing with your checks, your shit\n'Cause they gonna take your pay or not\nQue Sera gotta dance, fuck them niggas you smarter than\nWe just gonna beg your pardon them\nSavemoney, my patna dem\nI'm part of them, It's part of me\nThis Save Mula, Bo squad III\nI'm riding around my side of town\nHotboxing, no cops around\nI had the tux I had the gown\nJust had a show, just had to bounce\nIt's Chance ho, 10 Day\nChano no hable ingles\nThat language be that chanish but, ooh\nMuy caliente\nSo she just gonna throw her steps on\nAnd haters gonna throw that epsom\nAnd we just gonna throw a party\nAnd I'm gonna just throw my Teflon\n'Cause family be that blood though\nAnd I ain't even flexin'\nBut twin bro be that Victor\nAnd Big Cuz be that Chef Sean\nUh, uh, uh-uh-uh-uh\n(Yo, I'm gonna sing)\nIn what you be in what you do\nDon't stop (Being you)\nI said don\u2019t stop in what you be, in what you do\nDon\u2019t stop (Being you)\nDon't stop in what you be, in what you do\nDon't stop (Being you)\n10 Day\n\nWe gon' get this paper (Put that on my mama)\nYou gon' see us laid up (Put that on my mama)\nMonica and Ava, thanks for all the favors\nGot my money saved up (Put that on my mama)\nWe gon' get this paper (Put that on my mama)\nYou gon' see us laid up (Put that on my mama)\nMonica and Ava, thanks for all the favors\nGot my money saved up (Put that on my mama)\n\nAyo, I wanna thank MC Tree mama\nI wanna thank Fox mama, I wanna thank Robbie mama\nLili mama, Peter mama\nMy mama, my dad mama\nYour mama, I wanna thank moms\nI wanna thank, L-Boog mama, I wanna thank Tom Fool mama\nI wanna thank, Talent mama, Marcus mama\nI wanna thank, Thelonious mama, Vic mama, Reese mama\nI just wanna, I wanna thank anybody whose been a mother to a motherless child\nI love you mommy\n10 Day\nI hope y'all had a good time\nIgh"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsSlide Around Lyrics\nMhm, New York to Chi-town, rrr\nYo, Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?\nWoop\n\nSalmon Gucci slide, slide around (Slide around)\nLegit on that jet, I can fly around (Fly around)\nLivin' with some people I could die around (Die around)\nLivin' with the people I'ma die around (Die around)\nSalmon Gucci slide, slide around (Slide around)\nLegit on that jet, I can fly around (Fly around)\nLivin' with some people I could die around (Die around)\nLivin' with the people I'ma die around (Die around)\n\nI still got hoop dreams, I got moodswings\nI could do things in a plain white tee\nAnd some blue jeans, introducing\nMy lil' boo thing, she gon' stick with thick or thin\nThat's a mood ring (Uh), everybody eats (Uh)\nYou just don't keep receipts, I'ma just press delete (Ss)\nAlways ten toes like feet (Ss), came with some built-in cleat (Ss)\nYou don't need help like cheats, you don't need help like Meeseeks\nWorld on my back like leech (Ch-ch), mafia fam like Meech (Ch-ch)\nSteady, keep growin' like Ch-ch-chia\nBringin' my son to the beach (Ch-ch)\nNever sit in my seat\nI cannot be impeached, wash the bitch down with bleach\nYeah, I stuck around, aw, lookie now\nSuki-suki now, got a Grammy, I ain't lyin'\nAsk Cookie now, got my hoodie down\nGet it goodie now, get into it now\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nSalmon Gucci slide, slide around (Slide around)\nLegit on that jet, I can fly around (Fly around)\nLivin' with some people I could die around (Die around)\nLivin' with the people I'ma die around (Die around)\nSalmon Gucci slide, slide around (Slide around)\nLegit on that jet, I can fly around (Fly around)\nLivin' with some people I could die around (Die around)\nLivin' with the people I'ma die around (Die around)\n\nGimme five, it's a vibe, in the hood like drivebys\nI ain't talkin' wavin' hands when I'm in Dubai, bye\nWith the people that I love, rep 'em 'til I die-die\nAnd I'm fly, when you fly they give you the side-eye, ooh\nI just hit the plug, 'bout to buy a pound (Pound, pound)\nFendi on my moon boots, higher ground (Ground, ground)\nPistol on my lap when I ride around (Round, round, pew-pew-pew-pew)\nPeople I could trust when I'm not around (Round, round)\nLoco, I go loco, took a oath, though (Yee)\nNo Grammy, still a goat, though\nYou seen how a true queen and a hoop dream\nMade my Pinkprint the routine\nTreats, everybody eats\nMost of them stay quiet but everybody peeps\nFeet stay up in some heat (Ha)\nAct like they don't follow, but everybody sheep\nAhh-ahh, ohh-ohh\nBack on my bullshit, shout-out Chicago\nMe and my man Griselda and Pablo\nSalmon Gucci slide, slide around (Slide around)\nLegit on that jet, I can fly around (Fly around)\nLivin' with some people I could die around (Die around)\nLivin' with the people I'ma die around (Die around)\nSalmon Gucci slide, slide around (Slide around)\nLegit on that jet, I can fly around (Fly around)\nLivin' with some people I could die around (Die around)\nLivin' with the people I'ma die around (Die around)\n\nBack then, I was broke, I can buy it now (Buy it now)\nGot a bitch who love me, I can die around (Die around)\nI'm on my fourth cup and I'm tired now (Tired now)\nYour gas tank 93 so you can't ride around\nName hold weight, elites\nGet head in the car with my seats (Let's get it)\nLike my pants no crease (No crease)\nGotta watch out for a leech\nNo two fish, Uber Eats\nPerky one-two-threes\nNew Era hat say \"3\"\nFuck a bitch while she bleed\nShe nameless like Lil Keed\nDrink my seeds, yes, indeed\nFuck with Chance, he elite\nI got a bitch and she don't cheat\nForeign car, beep-beep\nGet out my way, I'm OC\nI can't go back to DOC\nEven though I'm ODB (Yeah, he back)\nI put my bitch in Saint Laurent (Yeah, yeah)\nSmokin' gas like Chevron (Yeah, yeah)\nAin't got a Grammy, soon one'll come, mmh\nThe streets told me I'm the one, yeah\nSalmon Gucci slide, slide around (Slide around)\nLegit on that jet, I can fly around (Fly around)\nLivin' with some people I could die around (Die around)\nLivin' with the people I'ma die around (Die around)\nSalmon Gucci slide, slide around (Slide around)\nLegit on that jet, I can fly around (Fly around)\nLivin' with some people I could die around (Die around)\nLivin' with the people I'ma die around (Die around)"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsDo You Remember Lyrics\nDo you remember how when you were younger\nThe\u200a summers all lasted forever?\nDays\u200a disappeared into months, into years\nHold that feeling forever\n\nI remember the summer Lil' Chano got ahold of his household\nThe\u200a same summer that widowed Gwyneth Paltrow\nBack\u200a when I could trust in my dogs like Balto\nMy family The Sopranos, these niggas is altos\nFirst\u200a album, every track could be the outro\nVelcro to shelltoes, things that we will outgrow\nUsed to rock South Pole, summers taking the 6 bus to South Shore\nNever sold out but now we out-sold\nThat\u200a was the summer I learned to love the great outdoors\nLearned you get the feds if you can't keep yo' mouth closed\nThat summer left a couple marks like Groucho\nThat halo can turn hollow, depending how low\nThat summer left a couple tan lines\nI love my city they let me cut the line on the Dan Ryan\nThey walk on eggshells and landmines\nThey communicate with handsigns\n\nDo you remember how when you were younger\nThe summers all lasted forever?\nDays disappear into months, into years\nHold that feeling forever\nDo you remember how when you were younger\nThe summers all lasted forever?\nDays disappear into months, into years\nHold that feeling forever\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nI remember the last summer of the teens\nI can't recall too many summers in between\nWill Smith, Genie, Donald Glover, Lion King\nMy daughter on the swing like the 2017 Cubs\nMy daughter mother double-ringed up\nFinger look like jean cuffs, or two lean cups\nUsed to have obsession with the \"27 Club\"\nNow I'm turning twenty-seven, wanna make it to the 2070 club\nPut the 27's down, Lord, give me a clean lung\nTook the ring up out the box, I know this ain't no brief love\nThis story arc so sharp that it made the streets flood\nThis the type of covenant you keep love, deep love\n\nDo you remember how when you were younger\nThe summers all lasted forever?\nDays disappear into months, into years\nHold that feeling forever\n\nDo you remember how when you were younger\nThe summers all lasted forever? (Summer everlasting)\nDays disappear into months, into years\nHold that feeling forever"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsWork Out Lyrics\nToday I missed my workout, but it worked out\nNow I'm missing work now, but it worked out\nHad to buy a crib, 'fore I bought my first house\nHad my first kid, I love how she turned out\nI love how she turned up, even if I'm burned out\nI'ma have so many seeds, I could have a birdhouse\nI'ma love on they mama, I hope it work out\nI hope it work out\n\nLuckily, my ex ugly\nI don't eat, so she can't get no lunch with me\nI don't reach, so she can't get in touch with me\nCan't be buds with me\nDon't know what to be\nShe gon' cuss at me\nTold her \"give it a rest,\" so I keep custody\nKeep it all side-eyes and side-hugs with me\nI know that my girl's trust is a luxury\nI don't want my next album sounding all Usher-y\nBut I must confess, I must confess\nFor every single ex, I want the best\nI really wish you nothing but success\nI know it's gonna work out\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nDoesn't it get dark, right before the sun peeks\nAnd bares his face? And doesn't it get so hard to breathe?\nBut it's gonna work out, it's gonna work out\nWith nothing left to give, with nothing left to say\nWhen no one says they're wrong, or sets the record straight\n\nBut it's gonna work out, it's gonna work out, it's gonna work out\nThat shit might hurt now, but I'm with her now\nDon't need closure now, just keep the shirt now\nSorry you were led to believe\nBunch of different stories that was never to be\nNo you isn't ugly I just said it to be\nFunny we both know that you look better than me\nSorry I started runnin' when you ran into me\nI'm just tryna be the kinda man I'ma be\nAnd I'm getting better gotta hand it to me\nSeem to always work out when you hand it to Jesus\n\nToday I missed my workout, but it worked out\nNow I'm missing work now, but it worked out\nHad to buy a crib, 'fore I bought my first house\nHad my first kid, I love how she turned out\nI love how she turned up, even if I'm burned out\nI'ma have so many seeds, I could have a birdhouse\nI'ma love on they mama, I hope it work out\nI hope it work out\nI believe in long distance love, God that's above\nBond that's so strong can't let y'all bald-headed\u2014\nYeah, y'all interrupt, you all in a rush\nWe all gon' meet up in the up, in the upper room\nIf I run into em', I'll be ru-running to em'\nWe could re-run the show, we could re-bump into 'em\nIf we read the wrong one, we could re-jump the broom\nIf we read the wrong one, baby we jump the groom\nI'm ready to be groomed\nI'm ready to assume, the position is filled\nI was ret since the womb\nI was not made for this, this was made for me\nAnd it's gonna work out\n\nToday I missed my workout, but it worked out\nNow I'm missing work now, but it worked out\nHad to buy a crib, 'fore I bought my first house\nHad my first kid, I love how she turned out\nI love how she turned up, even if I'm burned out\nI'ma have so many seeds, I could have a birdhouse\nI'ma love on they mama, I hope it work out\nI hope it work out"}
{"text":"Fuck with me y'all\nI mean either way you stuck with me y'all\nI'm coming at these rap niggas first\nAnd for most that's unluckily y'all\nBetter know it\nJust a mustard seed dog that I ever really needed\nNigga's just tryna see Jesus\nSipping water like it come with different cheeses\nAll of your opinions facetious, it's feces\nI got a thesis or slick dissertation\nOur entire species is young and impatient and passive\nAll at the same damn time, why? Chi to kill them with kindness\nHit them with the Visine, try to cure the blindness\nCouple coffee beans for the sinus\nFolgers the best part of waking up\nIs the alignment of self with God, and that isn't for a selfish heart\nMy intention was to flood the scene\nI don't ever really hug the scene\nY'all know I been submarine with this shit\nLittle more Actavis how I lean with this shit\nBlack as hell, still the cream of this crop\nWith dream, no king just Ving Rhames with six shots\nIt's the dawn of the dead and I feel so alive\nAnd the free been in here you can tell by my mind, like\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nYou just a grown ass kid, who the fuck do you think you is?\nThe sun is only half way risen, you haven't come out your crib\nYou just a grown ass boy, get up out of here with all that noise\nYou ain't ever gonna find no joy playin' yourself like a toy, you just a...\nYou just a grown ass kid, who the fuck do you think you is?\nThe sun is only half way up, you steady talking that shit\nYou just a grown ass boy, get up out of here with all that noise\nYou ain't ever gonna find no joy playin' yourself like a toy, you just a...\n\nLazy male complaining about how in high school he could, but his ACL\nAy be clear, this my daddy house, you just the uncle from ATL\n(Better take out that trash)\nBoy get your big....grown ass on\nOld ass home, broke ass drinking up all the milk\nBut can't do no laundry, e-Harmony romance on\nWatch your tone folk, talking to grown folk\nYeah, yeah, get that bass out your voice, you were sounding like Tone L\u014dc\nNow watch how I move, different chapters\nDecisions, missions, visit pastors\nEverybody finally can say it out loud, \"My favorite rapper a Christian rapper\"\nAnd he got fate in his faith in his soul\nAnd a tape, and a cape and that drape from out west\nTo the lake and it cover his face like a Bape\nAnd I hate when I wait but it never come late\nFrom tobacco back roads to bus seat back rows\nA Black boy, black rose, back rolls\nMen grow just as surely as mountains peak and plateaus plateau, ya kna wha' mean?\nYou just a grown ass kid, who the fuck do you think you is?\nThe sun is only half way risen, you haven't come out your crib\nYou just a grown ass boy, get up out of here with all that noise\nYou ain't ever gonna find no joy playin' yourself like a toy\nBoy you just a...\nKinda crazy how it fall up in your lap right?\nShit was determined in a past life\nIf you ask nicely, mad, nice\nEven with mad lights you couldn't see the boy\nUp in class like I'm only half right, they ain't believe the boy\nWave when you pass them, moments you should bask in\nWonder if the Lord's on my side, let me ask him, or ask her\nI don't need a password, don't ask about my past word\nLiving until my last words, wondering if this music got the slash in\nDon't forget the cash and mix in with the passion, oh\nIf I don't feel the love then I'mma pass end\nShit is everlasting, I'mma have a blast and uh\nI'mma have a good day, I'mma stay zonin'\nI might get high as shit or I might stay sober\nMight roll a J and I might just pass it\nMight hit the Bay and I might trip acid\nThey tried to treat us like some bummy little street kids\nI tell 'em \"When you dream, make sure that you dream big\"\nYou could be cool and an Uber driver\nThe next minute you in Aruba, you scuba divin'\nI hope they sell you the truth and that you survivin'\nDon't do how they gon' scrutinize 'em\nAnd looking at the youth, tryna euthanize 'em\nIf it was up to you they would nuke the projects\nGet up off that bed, big fella\nYou a grown boy, big fella\nYou need your diaper change, big fella\nYou still catching a bus nigga and living at mom's crib, big fella\nYou been tryna get money\nYou only got ten singles in your pocket, big fella\nGet up now, big fella, find you a job\nStill playing Xbox 360, you ain't even got an Xbox One\nYou got a PS1 and an Xbox 360, big fella\nGo find you a job, today, right now, big fella\nThe sun is almost gone, big fella\nGet up now, big fella\n(...playin' yourself like a toy\nBoy you just a...)\nGet up, big fella\nWhat is you doing?\nYou been sleeping all day, big fella\nYou ain't even got no pillows or no cover or no sheets on your bed, big fella\nIt's time to find another hustle, big fella\nThat scamming ain't cutting it, big fella\nGet up now\nGet up, get up, get up, big fella"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsGRoCERIES Lyrics\nM-M-M-Murda\nUh\n\nI'm like oh my God, shawty tender like a strip (Strip)\nI'm like oh my God, shawty came in with the drip (Okay)\nI'm like her and her friend (Her friend), came for the show (Ooh)\nHer and her friend came for the show, I'm like, um\nCan you do it simple just like lemonade? (Ooh, lemonade)\nCan you do it simple just like lemonade? (Yeah, lemonade)\nCan you do it simple just like lemonade? (Ooh, lemonade)\nCan you do it simple just like lemonade? (Yeah, dawg, ooh)\n\nUsed to carry all the groceries in in one trip (Hercules)\nSimply Minute Maid, gone in one sip (Drip, drip, drip)\nToo much dip on my chip (Hey)\nStiff arm a jit to get my lip balm (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nUsed to carry all the groceries in in one trip (Hercules)\nSimply Minute Maid, gone in one sip (Drip, drip, drip)\nToo much dip on my chip (Hey)\nStiff arm a jit to get my lip balm (Hey, hey)\n\nTraffic, traffic, lookin' for my chapstick\nBig star, Patrick, haircut look like Brad Pitt\nFive star hotel, doorman look like Braxton\nFancy carpet make her feel like J-\nMake her feel like Jasmine\nMake her feel like...\nMake her feel like Jas'\nMake me feel like I choose you like I'm Ash\nTake me to the box, Bandicoot, let me crash\nOoh, make me sleep, make me dream, make me snore\nThen wake me up, baby, I'ma need support\nThank you, Lord\n'Member eatin' dinner, kitchen drawers full of sporks (Drip)\nI was always one to try to go over my aunt's (Yeah)\nSugar in the 'frigerator right next to the ants (Ew)\nI would make the Kool-Aid then go make a cooler dance (Yup)\nSince I was a shorty, nigga, always wore the pants\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nI'm like oh my God, shawty tender like a strip (Strip)\nI'm like oh my God, shawty came in with the drip (Okay)\nI'm like her and her friend (Her friend), came for the show (Ooh)\nHer and her friend came for the show, I'm like, um\nCan you do it simple just like lemonade? (Ooh, lemonade)\nCan you do it simple just like lemonade? (Yeah, lemonade)\nCan you do it simple just like lemonade? (Ooh, lemonade)\nCan you do it simple just like lemonade? (Yeah, dawg, ooh)\n\nPut some water on the grass to make it grow (To make it grow)\nI like her skin all black like a crow (Just like a crow)\nI'm like, \"Get it, please, baby, get it,\" uh\nI'm like, \"Dip it, nacho chip it,\" ayy\nShe like the club, but she don't dance, though (But she don't dance, though, okay)\nI text her kitty and she text me back hello (Eww)\nI'm like Simple Lemonade (Simple)\nI'ma play my cards right, I ain't talkin' spades (Okay, okay)\nThey should be afraid\nMoney growin' on the tree, it's gon' cause a shade (Ayy)\nPlease, can you hold on? Please, could you hold on? Ayy (Ayy, please can you? Please?)\n'Cause me and Chance ain't gon' take long (Grr, grr)\n'Cause me and Chance ain't gon' take long (Ooh, ooh, ooh)\n\nUsed to carry all the groceries in in one trip (Hercules)\nSimply Minute Maid, gone in one sip (Drip, drip, drip)\nToo much dip on my chip (Hey)\nStiff arm a jit to get my lip balm (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nUsed to carry all the groceries in in one trip (Hercules)\nSimply Minute Maid, gone in one sip (Drip, drip, drip)\nToo much dip on my chip (Hey)\nStiff arm a jit to get my lip balm (Hey, hey)"}
{"text":"\nSparring is training, chain-snatching the slaves\nBut a rap song is a match in a cave\nDim lit, wet wick, wicked wrath in its way\nDrunk off of light, lies, laughing\nClaiming asylum while shying in shade\nI can't stay silent, I go violent when my violets is gray\nAnd my roses is black\nFuck the pharaohs and the Pharisees, Moses is back\nI don't need to see a Sphinx to know they noses was black\nI don't know one Temptation that had Otis's back\nSparring is training; this a jumping jack\nI'm the scariest Jack in the pumpkin patch\nFloat like my jumper wet, sting like a bumblebee\nI swing like a lumberjack, go back when I'm up at bat\nThey tried to label me a non-rapper\nI'm an independent contractor, card cracker\nSparring is training without the training wheels\nYou made it, you made it, you made it, yeah, you made a deal\nYou played it straight, hated, graduated\nWaited-waited, you still a waiter still\nMice will always find out ways to steal\nPicture me, fifth of Hennessy and a Swisher Sweet\nFake identity, 'til a plug named Trinity shook me\n\"Wake up, wake up,\" like \"Remember me?\"\nSaid one plus one make three, and you finna see\nYou ain't as grown as you finna be\nYou got them young nigga tendencies\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nMm... Sentimental energy\nI let the light in beside him, I stand like angel\nSparring is training for an apathetic halo\nApologetic, nonreligious, consequential fable\nLike good is good, the love in me is goodly, or godly\nThe Bible say mistakes is necessary\nSo I Mississippi monologue to granny house\nMy soloist is sold out to attentive God\nCornbread on my table when I say my prayers\nOn airs, to stairs where shadiness is time to rest or manifest\nSparring is training, I know they think me bumblebee\nAfro-Americano Sunny D, but bet I sting, no die\n\nSparring is training, Jacob wrestled with God\nIn the desert 'til he broke him and he blessed him\nAnd he rescued his heart\nI struggle with love, I juggle my loves\nI cuddle and coddle, ship wreckin' bottle, I huddle in hugs\nSparring is training bra, Ramses watching raining frogs\nJigga watching Damon, Damon watching Wayans Bros\nA tandem unicycle with two pilots in different maps\n\nYou giving back? (I'm giving back)\nTit for tat\nSynagogue and bottle caps\nA body in the underpass says, where's my Jesus?\nPledge allegiance to the money now\nWe runnin down to kiddie parks where darker kids be casualty\nLike come with me, to the museum\n\nExcuse them, they know of what they do\n\nSparring is training, don't let Denzel Training Day you\nSensei could catch a fade too\nWe be on that elegant, hella melanin\nPelle Pelles since they crayons and jelly pens\n\nAnd now you know Noname ain't never for none\nAyo, you know Chano ain't never for none\nAnd now you know Noname ain't never for none\nAyo, you know Chano ain't never for none\nHa-HA!! And you don't stop\nAyy! Ayy!\nBoom bap, and you don't stop\nHahahahaha!\nI told you that was gonna be fun though\nNah that was... Oh shit!"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsAll Day Long Lyrics\nYup\nAnd we back (Igh)\nNa-na-na (Igh)\n\nIf you blink you might miss it\nYou gotta click it or ticket\nYou gotta go get the gettin' before it's gone\nEnd it quickly as it begun\nLife is short as a midget, but mine's a little LeBron\nBeen a minute since Eminem was a blonde\nI need a peace prize\u201a mom invented the bomb\nA nigga wanted more\u201a I would only sit on the lawn\nA nigga up next like strongly scented colognes\nI'm 'bout to book a show at the Dimmsdale Dimmadome\nI still could hit up Sony today and get a loan\nAnd shout out to Miss Sylvia Rhone\u201a we get along\nBut that boy advance gotta be bigger than Diddy Kong\nI need stock and it gotta be Pippi Long\nCan't stop, won't stop boppin' like Diddy's song\nMy next tour got eight legs like daddy long\nI'm 'bout to have two kids that like daddy's song\n\nWe can't be out here pleasin' everybody (Oh, I...)\nWe know who we are (Oh\u201a yeah)\nAnd if you with me, then I'm with you darlin' (Yeah)\nBaby, all day long (Come on\u201a come on)\nBaby, all day long (Oh, I...)\nBaby, all day long (Yeah)\nBaby, all day long\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nThis is, this is the day\nTook it the scenic route, but this is the way\nThat's old news, baby, this is today\nThey gon' miss us today, you a \"Mrs.\" today\nThis is, this is the day\nTook it the scenic route, but this is the way\nThat's old news, baby, this is today\nThey gon' miss us today, you a \"Mrs.\" today\n\nBackyard blasted, dance 'til it's grassless\nPatio glass, the mazel tov cocktails\nBomb, b-bombastic, used to drop acid\nMarli come soon, I only drop classics\nEveryone ask\n\"When that heat gon' drop?\"\n\"When that knee gon' drop?\"\n\"When is he gon' pop the question we all got?\"\n\"'Cause this could be y'all block\nYou're livin' in a glass house, we can see y'all clocks\"\nBut I can see you from the other side, see y'all rocks\nAnd we could've been Magneto, if you seen our locks\nBut we share it with the world, not just fans\nCome out clean lookin' like we jumped the broom and the dustpan\nSo now it's here and we actin' out\nDame Dash, champagne in the back of Tao\nNow I'm back in my bag and the cat is out\nBurn a hole in my pocket like a Black & Mild (Igh)\nWe can't be out here pleasin' everybody (Oh, I...)\nI know, you know, we know just who we are (Oh, yeah)\nAnd if you with me, then I'm with you darlin' (Oh, baby)\nBaby, all day long (Come on, come on)\nBaby, all day long (Oh, I...)\nBaby, all day long (Yeah)\nBaby, all day long (Oh, I...)\n\nHey, we made it, we made it\nI'm feelin' grateful\nI'm here with my favorite\nOh God, I'm thankful\nOur song and we played it\nSo good, we played it (Yeah)\nI just wanted to keep on playin' (Hey)\nWe made it, we made it\nI'm feelin' grateful\nI'm here with my favorite\nOh God, I'm thankful\nOur song and we played it\nSo good, we played it (Yeah)\n\nBaby, all day long (Come on, come on)\nBaby, all day long (Oh, I...)\nBaby, all day long (Yeah)\nBaby, all day long\nBaby, all day long"}
{"text":"Yeah\n(We love You, we love, we love You, God)\n(We lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love You, God)\n(We love You, love You, love You, God)\n(We lo-lo-love You, we love You, God)\n(We love You, God, we love You, God, we love You, God)\n\nMy baby mama went celibate\nLies on my breath, she say she couldn't take the smell of it\nTired of the rumors, every room had an elephant\nTryna find her shoes, rummagin\u2019 through the skeletons\nShe took away sex, took me out of my element\nI tried to do the single-dad mingle-dance\nAt the club with the iron in my wrinkled pants\nYou could fall much faster than you think you can\nBig hands for my ring, I'ma need a Pringles can\nI just want the shine back like a Eagles fan\nMy ego like, \"Ah damn, there he go\nPrayin' again, again, the same ol\u2019 thang\"\nI mean, I ain't gon' promise that the pain go away\nAnd you can take your sweet time, but she ain't gon' wait\n'Cause a new coat of paint don't make the stain go away\nBut he go high (We love You, God)\nAnd we go high\nThey go low, we go\u2026\nHigher, higher\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nMy wife nanny like Fran Drescher\nThree damn Grammys, my Granny like, \"No pressure\"\nSo much style, my stylist got no dresser\nFuck goin' straight to the pros, I\u2019m professor\nFuck bein\u2019 one of the G.O.A.T.s, I'm Gotenks\nTried to try that with my girl, she \"No thanks\"\nDropped the bomb, I couldn\u2019t find a Tom Hanks\nGot me pressed, tryin' to find DeVon Frank\nWho the fuck rocked the boat? It's gon' sank\nShootin\u2019 at me point blank with those blanks\nThey don't take teenage angst at no banks\n(We love You, God)\nTried some new hues like Langston gon' paint\nYou gotta come harder than that\n\nEh, eh, eh, eh, eh\nIt's two different things\nIt's too bad, and it's so sad\nIt's too bad, and it's so sad\nIt's two things (We love You, God)\nIt's too bad, and it's so sad\n\nWe give the glory to You, God\nOne livin' true God, You make us booyah\nAnd throw up the Wu like U-God\nThey prop up statues and stones, try to make a new God\nI don't need a EGOT, as long as I got You, God\nDeep breathe, the woosah\nPretty sure I need You in this season like a flu shot\nI just sit and wait like I'm with Kirsten when she shoe shop\nKnow you always with me like how Diddy be with Blue Dot\nGot us movin' 'round without the straps like a tube-top\nGot me big comfy like Molly's couch\nFloatin' 'round the city like Malcolm X dolly'd out\nThey highly doubt, I guarantee it\nThis the part of my life my Lifetime movie prolly 'bout\nWhen they come to jump a board, I won't ollie out\nI too was once a snotty nose with a potty mouth\nOne day you get 1 OAK, then poppied out\nAnd poppin' out don't seem as popular as just passin' out\nWhen time get rationed out, you get rational\nFolks become pageants inside the fashion house\nThey start to clash and you let 'em hash it out\nBut stay passive, so if they crash, you got a fastened belt (Huh)\nLord bless my lineage, let me be the skinniest\nLet me get some time with him, let him know who Kenny is\nChildren born in one's youth are like arrows in the hands of a warrior\nWell, I got an extendo with a long nose like Phineas\nKids proud like Penny is\nBeBe & CeCe, I need like 20 twins\nGot her in my family like Indian\nFeel it in your gut like when you uppercut Ballchinians\nSpeakin' of guts, hers pokin' out like Winnie in the red shirt\nI don't have to teach you a lecture about how sex works\nI found out diamonds make pressure\nI used to dive headfirst, just know I had to let go of the flesh first\nIt's true, God, this union was for You, God\nWe standin' at the stoop, we want to make it to the rooftop\nYou told us bring some people through, we tried to bring a few, God\nWe tried to form a new bond, just tell us what to do, God"}
{"text":"It just don't get better\nIt don't get better\nIt just don't get no better\n\nIt don't get no better\nIt don't get no\nIt don't get no better\nIt just don't get no better\n\nI hate my bed, I hate my home, I hate my job\nI hate the wife, I hate the kids, I hate the dog\nI hate the sun, I hate the rain, I hate the clouds\nI hate the TV, hate the dinner, hate the couch\nI hate the car, I hate the bus, I hate the road\nI hate the bar, I hate to drink, I hate to smoke\nI hate a stranger, hate his boss, I hate his friend\nI hate the womb, I needed room, I ate my twin\nI hate my hands, handshakes, pancakes, milkshakes\nChild-resistant locks on the pill case\nI hate inflation, hate the store, I hate to choose\nI hate the war, I hate the poor, I hate the news\nI hate the late, I can't be early, hate to wait\nI hate my lovers cause the way they suffocate\nI fuck to hurt, it hurt to date, I hate to date\nI fuck to hate, I hate to love, I hate to hate\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nAnd it just don't\nAnd it just don't\nAnd it just don't\n\nIt don't get no better\nIt don't get no\nIt don't get no better\nIt just don't get no better\n\nI hate to lose, I hate to try, I hate to win\nI hate to cruise, I hate to fly, I hate to swim\nI hate the optimistic smirks on the face of children\nI hate the government and those who deface its buildings\nI hate artists, hate creatives, I hate bright people\nI hate darkness, I hate racists, I hate white people\nI hate small speakers, I hate loud speakers\nI hate great concerts, I don't like crowds neither\nI hate money, I hate change, I hate hope\nI hate funny, I hate strange, I hate dope\nI hate charities and parodies and tragedies\nI hate carrots, peas, asparagus\nVirtually all vegetables, circuses, all festivals\nTexts that are oversexual, motion because it's perpetual\nI hate schedules, calendars, reminders\nCause they just remind us that tomorrow gon' be just as timeless\nI fucking hate you\nAnd it just don't\nAnd it just don't\nAnd it just don't\n\nIt don't get no better\nIt don't get no\nIt don't get no better\nIt just don't get no better"}
{"text":"80 ContributorsXXL Freshman Freestyle Lyrics\nIce, melting in my chain\nPretty as my hair\nUgly as my name\nDirty as my gold\nComfy as my chair\nUgly is my name\nUgly is my name\n\nNo weapon formed against me shall prosper\nMy sword look just like Michael's\nHe lent it to me, this a house of God\nI'm just leasing, he rent it to me\nThis sentence he penned it too\nThat's a Gmail, he sent it to me\nI can send you his contact, hit him if you in combat\nHit him if you in traffic, even if there ain't no static\nThat's my G, he got me shinin'\nMy hair, he made it tangled\nMy seed, don't need no lining\nA halo fits on an angel\nAnd if the shoe fits, I'll tie his and let the kiddie rap\nFinally give the city back, and ask God for a piggy-back\nUp on his shoulders I notice, I'm within earshot\nI yell, \"Thanks for makin' us in your image\nYou got a good sense of hubris\"See Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsSunday Candy (Saturday Night Live Version) Lyrics\nHappy Holidays\n\nShe could say in her voice, in her way that she love me\nWith her eyes, with her smile, with her belt, with her hands, with her money\nI am the thesis of her prayers\nHer nieces and her nephews are just pieces of the layers\nOnly ones she love as much as me is Jesus Christ and Taylor\nI got a future so I'm singing for my grandma\nYou singing too, but your grandma ain't my grandma\nMine's is hand made, pan fried, sun dried\nSouthside, and beat the devil by a landslide\nPraying with her hands tied, president of my fan club, saying to her\nSomething told me I should bring my butt to church\nYou gotta move it slowly\nTake and eat my body like it's holy\nI've been waiting for you for the whole week\nI've been praying for you, you're my Sunday candy\nCome on in this house, cause it's gonna rain\n(*Mama you know it's gonna rain*)\nRain down Zion, it's gonna rain\n(*Mama you know it's gonna rain*)\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nI come to church for the candy, your peppermints is the truth\nI'm pessimistic on Monday if I had tweaked and missed you\nYou look so good with that hat on, had to match with the shoes\nCame and dressed in the satin, I came and sat in your pew\nI come to Christmas for dinner, fifty rolls on my plate\nHella holes in my stocking holding your pockets in place\nI like my love with a budget, I like my hugs with a scent\nYou smell like light, gas, water, electricity, rent\nYou sound like why the gospel choir got so tired\nSingin his praises daily basis so I gotta try it\nYou're my dreamcatcher, dream team, team captain\nMatter fact, I ain't seen you in a minute let me take my butt to church\nCome on in this house, cause it's gonna rain\n(*Mama you know it's gonna rain*)\nRain down Zion, it's gonna rain\n(*Mama you know it's gonna rain*)\n\nMama you know, Mama you know its gonna rain\nFather you know\nPromised, you said it would rain, finally I'm home\nYou left on the light when I left on the flight, but I made it alright\nI've been waiting all week, I've been waiting all night\nJason Van Dyke\nHad to say something on Saturday\nSee you at Church on Sunday\nOpen Mike coming on Monday\nI wonder what the internet gonna say\nWhen SNL end with the Indie\nThen the third tape slide down the chimney\nVia Kirsten, Kinsley, Lisa, Kenny, Taylor, Wendy, Austin win the Emmy, Mama Jan too\nCome on in this house, cause it's gonna rain\n(*Momma you know it's gone rain*)\nRain down Zion, it's gonna rain"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsLong Time Lyrics\n\nOh, no, no, no, no-no\nWell, it's been a long time, long time now\nSince I've seen you smile\nI wonder if Gladys smiles when angels bring my name up\nOr change language and subject change up\nHer boy's a long way from red dolls and green rangers\nThings ain't been the same since Ms. Patterson called me famous\nI saw your reflection in a toilet full of vomit water\nYou don't think I felt ya hand on my head, yelling: \"Call his father\"?\nBut people don't hear ghosts, so how they gon' play me?\nMoney saved me, so I'ma do the same thing\nYou're droppin' pounds, gettin' small on some sick shit\nLike, how you got the drive, but don't know how to use a stick shift?\nYou better not miss this, overdose, dope and mixes\nLet ya throat close with a boatload of dope quotes within it\nBlast off\n\nDropping tapes 'til I losted count, coughing out blood\nDropping weight like I lost an ounce\nThrowing words and tossing nouns\nNY traveling, I'm Boston bound, bossing 'round homies\nAnd talking down to shorties while I'm jotting down\nNotes to spit to Harlem crowns\nSurfing through the Harlem crowds\nAt the crib, I'm falling down\nYeah, I'm steady crawling 'round\nI'm calling out to God\nYour little angels falling down\nSave me from my darkened cloud\nReach your hands and arms around\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nOh, non je t'en prie, nous ne sommes pas chez nous\nOh, je t'assure que ce n'est pas grave\nNon laisse-moi!\nMais qu'est-ce que tu as aujourd'hui?\nJ'ai que les hommes me d\u00e9go\u00fbtent. Vous ne pensez qu'\u00e0 \u00e7a\n\nWell, it's been a long time, long time now\nSince I've seen you smile\nAnd I'll gamble away my fright\nAnd I'll gamble away my time\nAnd in a year, a year or so\nThis will slip into the sea\nWell, it's been a long time, long time now\n(Oh, it's, oh, it's been so long)\nSince I've seen you smile\n(It's been so long)\n\nSaid it's been a long time, long time now, now, now\nSaid it's been a long time, long time now\nAnd it's been a long time, long time now"}
{"text":"Well we must be some zanies and fools\nTo\u200a take a gamble on this love just like we do\nWhat\u200a a wonderfully crazy thing to do\nLove like magnets, we were powerless to choose\nI'm so powerful every time I look at you\nNo\u200a memory of anything I couldn't do\nIt's\u200a possible, so possible\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah,\u200a yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nOnce upon a time I was unsure of myself\nI would always claim I never had no help\nLooking to the mirror, the most unfair of all\nHit\u200a the Player's Ball, it was unbearable\nAnother big birthday, another milestone\nTo make your birthstone feel like rhinestone\nThe caterpillars that had burrowed inside my belly\nStarted to flutter before I learned how to fly\nI had a bunch of midlife crises 'fore I turned twenty-five\nThe teachers put me in the back row, I was learning to hide\n'Cause when the teachers call you special, that's the perfect disguise\nI had to bury all the dancing that would burgeon inside\nI got quiet, thought that silence was the perfect reply\nI turn to Casper any time a nigga turn on the slide\nUntil I turned up at the talent show, a permanent high\nI had Jesus behind the wheel before I learned how to drive\n'Cause it's poss'...\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\n\nOnce upon a time, a lady who tried twice\nAt being a good wife and giving a good life\nTo both of her lil' girls with ballerina tights\nShe called up the RE\/MAX and opened her own site\nClosing open houses, hired her own type\nAlimony is phony, she paid for her own flights\nCrazy office parties, she's throwin' 'em inside\nAnd my mama sealed my fate when she opened the invite\nThe lady had a plan, she knew it all in advance\nThe party was a good mixture of employees and friends\nShe told the people comin' to make sure they bring their kids\nYeah, bring some food, but just make sure you bring your kids\nAfter we arrived and after standing around\nThe lady tinked her glass and told us, \"Gather around\"\nFor a special performance from her daughters, she said it proud\n\"But tonight they not my daughters, tonight they Destiny's Child\"\nOut from the back came three lil' survivors\nIn formation, choreo tighter\nOne on the left, I think I might like her\nOne on the left, I think I might love her\nLady just folds her arms, rubs her hands\nAll of the lessons learned, how to dance\nAll of these moments left up to chance\nEverything will go right as it can\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\n(Vous allez accomplir, vous allez accomplir, allez)\nIt's possible (Tu vas gagner)\nIt's possible (Tu vas gagner)\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\n\nOnce upon a time, I had carats supplied\nTo a pair of fair rings I would share with the bride\nEvery kiss begins with Claire's cut clarity size\nThey were forever, but marriage had an apparent decline\nNow we live in fear of doin' what our parents was tryin'\nSo every Rapunzel don't got the kind of hair you can climb\nEver since they lost a slipper, every pair that they find\nThey say these boots were made for dancing like Mary J. Blige\nWe live a life apart, life so hard\nLife'll never really end up like the start\nWe learned together how the back door feels\nAnd we was jumping over brooms in tobacco fields\nWe was the same, all black folks still\nUntil the white man found out black votes steal elections\nSo they legitimized us, but behind us\nIt's still black folks at the back door still\nFor every small increment liberated, our women waited\nAnd all they privacy been invaded\nAlmost every trait I got through the slave owner gone\nSkin brown, nose round, but the Bennett made it\nNow I wanna give it to her, Sierra Leone, serenade\nSometimes love come with its own barricade\nSometimes love just gotta hold, marinate\nLet it hold, let it wait, here it go, here it go\nIt's possible (It's possible)\nIt's possible (It's possible)\n(Vous allez accomplir, vous allez accomplir, allez)\nIt's possible (Tu vas gagner)\nIt's possible (Tu vas gagner)\nIt's possible\nIt's possible\n\nAyy, yo\nOnce upon a time, a girl from Trinidad\nHad to fly to Canada and sneak into the land\nOf the free and of the brave, feet under the sand\nAnd I came in realizing nothing free in the land\nDreams of making money, had to split it with Sam\nAll that Making the Band, yeah, I could've did it, but damn\nRather really be on the come-up, had to stick to the plan\nWent from rockin' with Fendi, now Fendi know I'm a brand\nThat's how God do, I'm in your top two\nAnd I ain't number two, conquered rap, then the pop too\nYou gon' stop who? Get off cock, boo\nSince \"Itty Bitty Piggy,\" giving bitches what they bop to\nI met my husband when I was seventeen out in Queens\nIf you love it, let it go, now I know what that means\nWhile he was up North for a body\nI bodied everybody and got known for my body\nMy nigga home now, he the Clyde to my Bonnie\n'Bout to walk down the aisle and be a mommy\nOoh, I remember when I cried like, \"Why me?\"\nNow I wouldn't exchange my life for Armani\nSometimes I feel like I'm dreaming and then it hits me\nGotta remember who I am when it slips me\nKids running up to the car yelling, \"Nicki\"\nAll my bad bitches, I know that y'all with me\nFuck they thought was sittin' in my seat?\nGot a big bowl of ice cream sitting in my Jeep\nGot some killers that'll put you on ice, so don't sleep\n'Bout to dead this whole beef and rock some gold teeth\n\nIt's possible, it's possible\nIt's possible to me"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsHandsome Lyrics\nBaby, I look good, I look handsome\n\nBaby,\u200a I look good, I look handsome\nSomebody\u200a gon' take me for ransom\nEverybody 'round me was dancin'\nAin't nobody 'round me could have none\nBaby,\u200a you look good, you look pretty\nI\u200a know why you stopped fuckin' with me\nIt's a lot of bomb in the city\nBut\u200a you know nobody could get (You)\n\nIt's a hottie, it's a body, we ain't missin' no meals\nI ride shotty, she like five somethin' but six in them heels\nI'm a Ducati, you gonna do ninety down 290, huh?\nKnow\u200a where you goin', know where to find me, know where to find me, huh?\nBig fine, rotisserie (Muah, yeah)\nMy big tongue make it slippery (Huh)\nI give you a sec' I'll let you shake it out (Huh)\nNow, let's run it back, this time don't make a sound (Shh, oh yeah)\nMake it wop, uh\nClimb up to the top and do a split and make it drop\nYou look good naked, look good pregnant, anything you make it pop\nYou out here bakin', hot like Megan on my bacon when it pop (Hey, pop, hey)\nBaby, you look good, you look gorgeous\nThis right here your city, I'm a tourist\nI know I'm a catch, I'm a swordfish\nGot me on your hook, on your chorus\nSee Chance the Rapper LiveGet tickets as low as $89You might also like\nBaby, I look good, I look handsome (Do)\nSomebody gon' take me for ransom (They will)\nEverybody 'round me was dancin'\nAin't nobody 'round me could have none (You can't)\nBaby, you look good, you look pretty (You do)\nI know why you stopped fuckin' with me (I do)\nIt's a lot of bomb in the city (Ah, ah, ah)\nBut you know nobody could get\n\nWell-known all across the globe\nFor my player ways and my skimpy clothes\nHouston hottie with a model body\nI'ma bust it open like a centerfold\nBad bitch with a lot of options (Yeah)\nAfter me, it's really hard to top it (Hey)\nShe don't suck it sloppy, she don't like to ride it\nShe don't lick the balls, she ain't really wifey, ah (Ah, ah)\nAll that talking shit, you know that excite me (That excite me)\nAnd I know that mean you love me\nWhen you tell me you don't like me (Ayy)\nAnd I know you need some pussy\nWhen you argue and we fightin'\nDon't you put them in our business\nIf we beefin', keep it private, huh (Ayy, yeah)\nBaby, you look good, you look handsome (Handsome)\nRich nigga put that dick up for some ransom (Ayy, ayy, ransom)\nBefore I let you go, I had to have some (Ooh, ooh, have some)\nRich bitch so you know I got my bands up (Ahh)\nBaby, I look good, I look handsome (Do)\nSomebody gon' take me for ransom (They will)\nEverybody 'round me was dancin'\nAin't nobody 'round me could have none (You can't)\nBaby, you look good, you look pretty (You do)\nI know why you stopped fuckin' with me (I do)\nIt's a lot of bomb in the city (Ah, ah, ah, ah)\nBut you know nobody could get (You)"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsArea Codes Lyrics\nI've got hoes, I've got hoes\nIn different area codes (Area), area codes (Codes)\nHoes! Hoes, hoes, in different area codes (Area)\nArea codes (Codes)\nHoes!\n\nNow you thought I was just 7-7-0, and 4-0-4?\nI'm worldwide, bitch, act like y'all don't know\nIt's the abominable ho man\nGlobe-trot International post man\nNeighbour-dick dope man\n7-1-8's, 2-0-2's\nI send small cities and states I-O-U's\n9-0-1, matter of fact 3-0-5\nI'll jump off the G4, we can meet outside\nSo control your hormones and keep your drawers on\n'Til I close the door and I'm jumpin' your bones\n3-1-2's, 3-1-3's (Oh)\n2-1-5's, 8-0-tree's (Oh)\nRead your horoscope and eat some hors d'oeuvres\n10 on pump one; these hoes is self serve\n7-5-7, 4-1-0's, my cell phone just overloads\n\nI've got hoes, I've got hoes\nIn different area codes (Area), area codes (Codes)\nHoes! Hoes, hoes, in different area codes (Area)\nArea codes (Codes)\nI've got hoes!\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nNow every day is a ho-ly day, so stop the violence and put the 4-4 away\nSkeet, shoot a ho today\n5-0-4, 9-7-2's\n7-1-tree, whatcha gon' do?\nYou checkin' out the scene? I'm checkin' a ho tonight\nWith perpendicular, vehicular ho-micide\n3-1-4, 2-0-1 (Hey)\nToo much green, too much fun (Hey)\nI bang cock in Bangkok\nCan't stop, I turn and hit the same spot, think not\nI'm the Thrilla in Manila, schlong in Hong Kong\nPimp 'em like Bishop, Magic, Don Juan\nMan after Henny with a coke and a smile\nI just pick up the motherfuckin' phone and dial\nI got my condoms in a big ass sack\nI'm slanging this dick like a New Jack, biatch\n\nIs it 'cause they like my gangsta walk?\nIs it 'cause they like my gangsta talk?\nIs it 'cause they like my handsome face?\nIs it 'cause they like my gangsta ways?\nWhatever it is, they love it and they just won't let me be\nI handle my biz, don't rush me, just relax and let me be free\nWhenever I call (I call), come runnin'\n2-1-2 or 2-1-3\nYou know that I ball (I ball), stop frontin'\nOr I'll call my substitute freak (Hoes)\nI\u2019ve got hoes, I\u2019ve got hoes\nIn different area codes (Area), area codes (Codes)\nHoes! Hoes, hoes, In different area codes (Area)\nArea codes (Codes)\nI\u2019ve got hoes!\n\n9-1-6, 4-1-5, 7-0-4\nShout out to the 2-0-6\nEverybody in the 8-0-8\nHa-ah, 2-1-6, 7-0-2, 4-1-4\n3-1-7, 2-1-4's and the 2-8-1's\n3-3-4, 2-0-5, I see ya\nUh-uh, 3-1-8, 6-0-1's, 2-0-tree\n8-0-4, 4-0-2, 3-0-1\n9-0-4, 4-0-7, 8-5-0\n7-0-8, 5-0-2\nHoes in different area codes, know that\nSouthern Hoes-pitality, Northern Exhoes-ure\nHa-ha, ho ridin' on the West coast\nYa understand what I'm sayin'?\nHo-cus pocus, you the dopest\nHoes to the right, hoes to the left, 5 hoes this time\nWhoo! Ho no!\nThe Hip-hop ho-ller-coaster, that's what we on right now\nHa-ha, no need to get all ho-stile\nDef Jam South baby, Disturbing Tha Peace\nJazze Pheezy, Uncle Face\nLudacris, uh, hoes... I'm sweating like a motherf"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsMy Chick Bad Lyrics\nMy chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\n(DTP!)\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\n\nListen, I'm sayin' my chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy chick bad, badder than yours\nMy chick do stuff that I can't even put in words\nHer swagger don't stop, her body won't quit\nSo fool pipe down, you ain't talkin 'bout shit\nM-m-my chick bad, tell me if you seen her\nShe always bring the racket like Venus and Serena\nAll white top, all white belt\nAnd all white jeans, body lookin' like milk\nNo-no time for games, she's full grown\nMy chick bad, tell yo' chick to go home\n\nMy chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\n(Let's go!)\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nNow-now-now-now-now-now, now your girl might be sick but my girl's sicker\nShe rides that dick and she handles her liquor\nWill knock a bitch out, annnnd fight\nComin' out swingin' like Tiger Woods' wife\nYeahhh, she could get a little hasty\nChicks better cover up they chest like pasties\nCouple girlfriends and they ALL a little crazy\nComin down the street like a parade, Macy's\n(Whoo!) I fill 'er up, balloons\nTest her and guns get drawn like cartoons\nD'oh, but I ain't talkin 'bout Homer\nChick's so bad the whole crew wanna bone her, yeah\n\nMy chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad (and I'm lovin' it!), my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\n\nYo, yo, now-now-now-now\nNow all these bitches wanna try and be my bestie\nBut I take a left and leave them hangin' like a testie\nTrash talk to 'em then I put 'em in a Hefty\nRunnin' down the court I'm dunkin' on 'em, Lisa Leslie\nIt-it-it-it-it's goin' down, basement\nFriday the 13th, guess who's playing Jason\nTuck yourself in, you better hold onto your teddy\nIt's Nightmare on Elm Street and guess who's playin' Freddy\nMy chick bad, chef cookin' for me\nThey say my shoe game crazy, the mental asylum lookin' for me\n(Ha ha ha ha), you a rookie to me\nI'm in that wham-bam purple Lam, damn bitch you been a fan\nMy chick bad (don't get scared now, haha!), my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\n(Disturbing Tha Peace!)\nMy-my chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\n\nLuda, DTP\nAnd when we all alone, I might just tip her\nShe slides down the pole, like a certified stripper\nWhen we all alone I might tip, tip her\nShe slides down the pole, like a certified stripper\nWhen-when we all alone, I might just tip her\nShe slides down the pole, like a certified stripper\nWhen we all alone, I might just tip her\nShe slides down the pole, like a certified stripper, I kinda like that"}
{"text":"63 ContributorsMove Bitch Lyrics\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\n\nOh no! The fight's out\nI'm 'bout to punch your lights out\nGet the fuck back, guard your grill\nThere's something wrong, we can't stay still\nI've been dranking and busting too\nAnd I been thanking of busting you\nUpside your motherfuckin' forehead\nAnd if your friends jump in (Aw, girl!), they'll be mo' dead\nCausing confusion, Disturbin' Tha Peace\nIt's not an illusion, we runnin' the streets\nSo, bye-bye to all you groupies and gold diggers\nIs there a bumper on your ass? (No, nigga!)\nI'm doing a hundred on the highway\nSo, if you do the speed limit, get the fuck out of my way!\nI'm D.U.I., hardly ever caught sober\nAnd you about to get ran the fuck over\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\nMove, bitch! Get out the way (Watch out, watch out)\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way (Watch out, bitch!)\nMove, bitch! Get out the way (Watch out, watch out)\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way (Watch out, bitch!)\nMove, bitch! Get out the way (Watch out, watch out)\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way (Watch out, chii! Roow!)\n\nHere I come, here I go\nUh oh, don't jump, bitch: move!\nYou see them headlights? You hear that fuckin' crowd?\nStart that goddamn show, I'm comin' through\nHit the stage and knock the curtains down\nI fuck the crowd up \u2014 that's what I do\nYoung and successful \u2014 a sex symbol\nNow bitches want me to fuck 'em \u2014 true, true\nHold up, wait up, shorty\nOh what's up, getting my dick sucked, what are you doing?\nBesides minding my fuckin' business\nTrying to get my paper, child support suing\nGive me that truck and take that rental back\nWho bought these fucking TV's and the jewelry, bitch, tell me that\nNo, I ain't bitter, I don't give a fuck\nBut I'ma tell you like this bitch\nYou better not walk in front of my tour bus\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\nMove, bitch! Get out the way (Bring it)\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way (Get 'em)\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\n\n2-0, I'm on the right track\nBeef, got the right mack\nHit the trunk, grab the pump, punk I'll be right back\nWe buying bars out, showing scars out\nWe heard there's hoes out, so we brought the cars out\nCall up Tit, grab the pills 'cause we poppin' tonight\nBeat the shit outta of security for stoppin' the fight\nI got a fifth of the Remy, fuck the Belve and Cris\nI'm selling shit up in the club like I work in that bitch\nFuck the dress codes, it's street clothes, we all street niggas\nWe on the dance floor, throwing bows, beating up niggas\nI'm from the Dec', try to disrespect D.T.P.\nAnd watch the bottles start flying from the V.I.P.\nFuck this rap shit, we clap bitch, two in ya body\nGrab ya four, start a fight dog, ruin the party\nSo move, bitch, get out the way, ho\nAll you faggot motherfuckers make way for 2-0\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\nMove, bitch! Get out the way\nGet out the way, bitch, get out the way\n"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsParty Girls Lyrics\nI came to party like tonight will never end\nLet's party again\nLet's party again\nYea, I came to party like tonight will never end\nLet's party again\nLet's party again\nLet's party again\n\nI need party girls in my party world\nTitties plastic, ass fantastic\nThey just brush my hair and touch me everywhere\nI don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't, I don't say shit and they be gettin' naked, naked\nSay shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't, I don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\n\nIt's your world and I'ma touch wherever you want me to touch it\nPop that, pop that and you'll be bustin' them nuts when you want to bust it\nDon't rush it mama I'ma take my time and do it slow\nFrom the car to the counter to the bed to the couch to the tub to the flo'\nOh! No! Could it be that a G really got you sprung?\nI lost my count baby how many times did I make it cum?\nRun, run, run from a nigga til you can't no more like Forrest Gump\nThen it's more she gets, if it's more she wants\nShe's spoiled rotten like bad milk\nGet her hot cause I make that ass melt\nShe whipped cause she love gettin' whipped in the whip\nAnd I'ma black belt\nI beat the pussy to pieces, never lettin' the cat off the leashes\nAnd I'm goin' so deep they tellin' me all of they deepest and darkest secrets\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nI need party girls in my party world\nTitties plastic, ass fantastic\nThey just brush my hair and touch me everywhere\nI don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't, I don't say shit and they be gettin' naked, naked\nSay shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't, I don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\n\nThrow some ones on that\nGet you wet as a waterpark I'ma have some fun with that\nMake you come back to back you gon' bust like a gun with that\nLike pow pow, brrr, pow pow, brrr\nMy bitch be gettin' down nigga how 'bout yours?\nSo turnt up when we in the club we don't even need a molly\nDoin' so much over in this corner thought we was fuckin' in the party\nMy lung's filled with Marley\nMy hands on your body\nAnd I'm goin' so deep I'm just lettin' you know that this me I got your face all in the pillow\nYou can't speak\n\nI need party girls in my party world\nTitties plastic, ass fantastic\nThey just brush my hair and touch me everywhere\nI don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't, I don't say shit and they be gettin' naked, naked\nSay shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't, I don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\nI came to party like tonight will never end\nLet's party again\nLet's party again\nYea, I came to party like tonight will never end\nLet's party again\nLet's party again\nLet's party again\n\nI need party girls in my party world\nTitties plastic, ass fantastic\nThey just brush my hair and touch me everywhere\nI don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't say shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't, I don't say shit and they be gettin' naked, naked\nSay shit and they be gettin' naked\nI don't, I don't say shit and they be gettin' naked"}
{"text":"27 ContributorsGood Lovin Lyrics\nI keep dwellin' on the past, babe\nKnow what I need, yeah\n\nI need some real good lovin'\n'Cause I'm troubled by the things that I see\nI need some real good lovin'\n'Cause ain't nobody been around here lovin' on me\n\nIt's better to love and then lost than to never have loved at all\nIf that was true I wouldn't be drinking this alcohol\nEvery relationship failed to take a toll on you\nEspecially when you had hoes and area codes on you\nIs it easier to erase my memories\nAt a point when most of my past women became my enemies?\nSome on the fence, some befriended me\nBut when we see each other it's gon' be some weird energy\nI'm sorry that we couldn't make it work\nBelieve in your heart, I never intended to make you hurt\nNow they see me on the blogs with my new girl\nFriends talking 'bout \"that's supposed to be you, girl\"\n\nI need some real good lovin'\n'Cause I'm troubled by the things that I see\nI need some real good lovin'\n'Cause ain't nobody been around here lovin' on me\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nI got a empty hole in my chest\nHow do I fill it? Somebody give a prescription\nI guess I gotta learn to live with regrets\nPay for mistakes and your exes take a commission\nBut what's a percent off the top when you hit the bottom\nAfter you break up wondering how to live without 'em?\nNeed solutions, less problems\nCause if love will drive you crazy I belong in the insane asylum\nHear the rain, feel the pain inside 'em\nKinda lost, need someone to guide 'em\nIt's nothin' worse than feelin' alone\nBut I'll admit to feelin' better when I'm hearing this song, it goes\n\nI need some real good lovin'\n'Cause I'm troubled by the things that I see\nI need some real good lovin'\n'Cause ain't nobody been around here lovin' on me\n\nSo I, dwelling on the past, all the moments on repeat, baby\nPlaying empty songs when I'm blowing my high\nFeeding my heart to a lion called guilt on an empty bed\nOn an empty bed\nDwelling on the past, all the moments on repeat\nPlaying empty songs when I'm blowing my high\nFeeding my heart to a lion called guilt on an empty bed\nWhile I lose my mind\nSo you know what I need\nI need some real good lovin'\n'Cause I'm troubled by the things that I see\nI need some real good lovin'\n'Cause ain't nobody been around here lovin' on me"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsWhat\u2019s Your Fantasy Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nGive it to me now, give it to me now\nGive it to me now, give it to me now\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nGive it to me now, give it to me now\nGive it to me now\n\nI wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna, move from the bed down to the, down to the, to the flo'\nThen I wanna, \"Ahh ahh,\" you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I gotta kn-kn-kn-know, what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy?\nI wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna, move from the bed down to the, down to the, to the flo'\nThen I wanna, \"Ahh ahh,\" you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I gotta kn-kn-kn-know, what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy?\n\nI wanna get you in the Georgia Dome on the 50-yard line\nWhile the Dirty Birds kick for t'ree\nAnd if you like in the club, we can do it\nIn the DJ booth or in the back of the V.I.P\nWhipped cream with cherries and strawberries on top, lick it don't stop\nKeep the door locked, don't knock while the boat rock\nWe go-bots and robots, so they got to wait til the show stop\nOr how about on the beach with black sand?\nLick up your thigh then call me the Pac Man\nTable top or just give me a lap dance\nThe Rock to the Park to the Point to the Flatlands\nThat man named Ludacris (woo!) in the public bathroom\nOr in back of the classroom\nHow ever you want it, Lova Lova gonna tap that ass soon\nSee I cast 'em and I passed 'em\nGet a tight grip and I grasp 'em\nI flash 'em and outlast 'em\nAnd if it ain't good then I trash 'em\nWhile you stash 'em, I'll let 'em free\nAnd they tell me what they fantasy\nLike up on the roof, roof\nTell your boyfriend not to be mad at me!\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nI wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna, move from the bed down to the, down to the, to the flo'\nThen I wanna, \"Ahh ahh,\" you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I gotta kn-kn-kn-know, what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy?\nI wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna, move from the bed down to the, down to the, to the flo'\nThen I wanna, \"Ahh ahh,\" you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I gotta kn-kn-kn-know, what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy?\n\nI wanna get you in the bath tub\nWith the candles lit; you give it up 'til they go out\nOr we can do it on stage at the Ludacris concert\n'Cause you know it got sold out!\nA red carpet dick it just roll out\nGo ahead and scream, you can't hold out\nWe can do it in the pouring rain\nRunning the train, when it's hot or when it's cold out\nHow about in the library on top of books?\nBut you can't be too loud!\nYou wanna make a brother beg for it\nGive me TLC 'cause you know I be too proud\nWe can do it in the White House\nTry to make them turn the lights out\nChampagne with my campaign\nLet me do the damn thing\nWhat's my name, what's my name, what's my name?\nThe sauna, jacuzzi, in the back row at the movie\nYou can scratch my back and rule me\nYou can push me and just pull me\nOn hay in middle of the barn\nRose petals on the silk sheets\nEating fresh fruit, sweep your woman right off her feet\nI wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna, move from the bed down to the, down to the, to the flo'\nThen I wanna, \"Ahh ahh,\" you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I gotta kn-kn-kn-know, what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy?\nI wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna, move from the bed down to the, down to the, to the flo'\nThen I wanna, \"Ahh ahh,\" you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I gotta kn-kn-kn-know, what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy?\n\nI wanna get you in the back seat, windows up\nThat's the way you like to fuck\nClogged up, fog alert\nRip the pants and rip the shirt\nRough sex: make it hurt\nIn the garden all in the dirt\nRoll around Georgia Brown: that's the way that I like ittwerked\nLegs jerk, overworked\nUnderpaid, but don't be afraid\nIn the sun or up in the shade\nOn the top of my Escalade\nMaybe your girl and my friend can trade\nTag team, off the ropes!\nOn the ocean or in the boat!\nFactories or one hundred spokes!\nWhat about up in the candy store?\nThat chocolate, chocolate make it melt\nWhips and chains, handcuffs\nSmack a little booty up with my belt\nScream \"help!\" Play my game!\nDracula, man, I'll get my fangs\nHorseback and I'll get my reins\nSchool teacher, let me get my brains\nI wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna, move from the bed down to the, down to the, to the flo'\nThen I wanna, \"Ahh ahh,\" you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I gotta kn-kn-kn-know, what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy?\nI wanna, li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna, move from the bed down to the, down to the, to the flo'\nThen I wanna, \"Ahh ahh,\" you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I gotta kn-kn-kn-know, what-what's your fan-ta-ta-sy?"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsRunaway Love Lyrics\nYeah, and it go a little somethin'\nLi-li-like this\n\nRunaway love (love love) runaway love (love love)\nRunaway love (love love) runaway love (love love)\n\nNow little Lisa's only nine years old\nShe's tryin to figure out why the world is so cold\nWhy she's all alone and they never met her family\nMomma's always gone and she never met her daddy\nPart of her is missin and nobody'll listen\nMomma's on drugs gettin high up in the kitchen\nBringin home men at different hours of the night\nStartin with some laughs, usually endin in a fight\nSneakin in her room when her momma's knocked out\nTryin to have his way and little Lisa says ouch\nShe tries to resist but then all he does is beat her\nTries to tell her mom but her momma don't believe her\nLisa's stuck up in a world on her own\nForced to think that hell is a place called home\nNothin else to do but get some clothes and pack\nShe says she's 'bout to run away and never come back (Like this)\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nRunaway love (love love) runaway love (love love)\nRunaway love (love love) runaway love (love love)\n\nLittle Nicole is only ten years old\nShe's steady tryin to figure why the world is so cold\nWhy she's not pretty and nobody seems to like her\nAlcoholic stepdad always wanna strike her\nYells and abuses, leaves her with some bruises\nTeachers ask questions, she's makin up excuses\nBleedin on the inside, cryin on the out\nIt's only one girl really knows what she's about\nHer name is little Stacy and they become friends\nPromise that they'll always be tight 'til the end\nUntil one day lil' Stacy gets shot\nA drive-by bullet went stray up on her block\nNow Nicole's stuck up in a world on her own\nForced to think that hell is a place called home\nNothin else to do but get her clothes and pack\nShe says she's 'bout to run away and NEVER come back\n\nRunaway love (love love) runaway love (love love)\nRunaway love (love love) runaway love (love love)\nLittle Erica is eleven years old\nShe's steady tryin to figure why the world is so cold\nSo she pops X to get rid of all the pain\nPlus she's havin sex with her boy who's sixteen\nEmotions run deep as she thinks she's in love\nSo there's no protection, he's usin no glove\nNever thinkin 'bout the consequences of her actions\nLivin for today and not tomorrow's satisfaction\nThe days go by and her belly gets big\nThe father bails out, he ain't ready for a kid\nKnowin her momma would blow it all out of proportion\nPlus she lives poor so no money for abortion\nErica is stuck up in a world on her own\nForced to think that hell is a place called home\nNothin else to do but get her clothes and pack\nShe says she 'bout to run away and NEVER come back, ah!\n\nRunaway love (love love) runaway love (love love)\nRunaway love (love love) runaway love (love love)\n\nRunaway, runaway love\nDon't keep runnin' away\nRunaway, runaway, runaway, runaway\nRun it, run it, run it, run it, ah-ah\nDon't keep runnin', runnin' away\nDon't, don't keep runnin', runnin' away\nI know how you feel, I've been there\nI was runnin' away too\nI will run away with you, I will run away with you\nRunaway, runaway love\nDon't keep runnin' away\nI'll run away with you, if you want me to\nYeah, I can only imagine what you goin through ladies\nSometimes I feel like runnin away myself\nSo do me a favor right now and close your eyes\nAnd picture us runnin away together\nWhen we come back everything gonna be okay\nOpen your eyes"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsStand Up Lyrics\nStand up! (Ah)\nStand up! (Yeah)\nStand up! (Ah)\nStand up! (Uh)\n\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nHell yeah, hey DJ bring that back\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nHell yeah, hey DJ bring that back\n\nHow you ain't gon' fuck?! Bitch, I'm me!\nI'm the goddamn reason you in VIP\nCEO, you don't have to see ID\nI'm young, wild, and strapped like Chi-Ali\nBlaow! We ain't got nothing to worry about\nWhoop ass, let security carry them out\nWatch out for the medallion, my diamonds are reckless\nIt feels like a midget is hanging from my necklace\nI pulled up with a million trucks\nLooking, smelling, feeling like a million bucks, ahh\nPass the bottles, the heat is on\nWe in the huddle all smoking that Cheech & Chong\nWhat's wrong? The club and the moon is full\nAnd I'm looking for a thick, young lady to pull\nOne sure shot way to get them out of them pants\nTake note to the brand new dance\nLike this\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nHell yeah, hey DJ bring that back\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nHell yeah, hey DJ bring that back\n\nGo on with your big ass, let me see something\nTell your little friend he can quit mean mugging\nI'm lit and I don't care what no one thinks\nBut where the fuck is the waitress at with my drinks?\nMy people outside and they can't get in\nWe gon' rush the back door & break them in\nThe owner already pissed cause we sort of late\nBut our time and our clothes, got to coordinate\nMost girls looking right, some looking a mess\nThat's why they spilling drinks all over your dress\nBut Louis Vuitton bras all over your breasts\nGot me wanting to put hickeys all over your chest\nAhh, come on we gon' party tonight\nY'all use mouth to mouth bring the party to life\nDon't be scared, show another part of your life\nThe more drinks in your system, the harder the fight\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nHell yeah, hey DJ bring that back\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nHell yeah, hey DJ bring that back\n\nStand up!\nStand up!\nStand up!\nStand up!\n\nDamn right, the fire marshal wanna shut us down\nGet us out, so someone can gun us down\nWe was two songs away from getting some cut up\nNow we one song away from tearing the club up\nMove over; Luda got something to say\nDo it now cause tomorrow ain't promised today\nWork with me, let's become one with the beat\nAnd don't worry about me stepping all over your feet\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nHell yeah, hey DJ bring that back\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nWhen I move, you move, just like that?\nHell yeah, hey DJ bring that back\n\nStand up!\nStand up!\nStand up!\nStand up!\nStand up! Just like that?\nStand up! Just like that?\nStand up!\nStand up!"}
{"text":"1 ContributorLlama Mama Lyrics(Hey)\nLlama, llama (uh)\nRed pajama\nReads a story with who?\nWith his mama! (hey!)\nMama kisses (what)\nBaby hair\nMama llama goes all the way downstairs (ayy!)\nLlama llama (what?)\nRed pajama\nFeels alone with who?\nWithout his mama (ayy!)\nBaby llama\nIt wants a drink\nMama's at the kitchen (what?)\nThe kitchen sink\nI'm talkin'\nLlama llama (what)\nRed pajama (what)\nCalls down to (uhh)\nMama llama (ayy)\nMama says she'll be up soon\nBe up soon (soon!)\nBaby llama hums a tune\nHums a tune (tune!)\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also likeLlama llama\nRed pajama\nWaitin' waitin'\nWhat's he waitin' fo'?\nWaitin' fo' his mama!\nMama isn't comin' yet\nComin' yet (yet)\nBaby llama starts to fret\nStarts to fret! (fret)\nLlama llama\nRed pajama\nWhimpers softly fo' his mama\nMama, what'ya doin'?\nCause I hear her on the phone\nLlama starts to moan\nWhat'ya wanna do\nI play that mama goin' home!\nLlama llama red pajama\nListens kinda quiet\nFo' his mama\nWhat that llama doin'?\nHe's boo-hooin'!\nAnd hooin'\nAnd I'm scewin'\nIm takin' it to adult version\nWhat'ya doin'?!\nRuined ruined ruined!Embed"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsSouthern Hospitality Lyrics\nWe drop bows on 'em, bows on 'em, when we\nWe drop bows on 'em, bows on 'em, when we (throw dem 'bows)\nWe drop bows on 'em, bows on 'em, when we\nWe drop bows on 'em, bows on 'em, when we (throw dem 'bows)\n\nCadillac grills, Cadillac mills\nCheck out the oil my Cadillac spills\nMatter of fact, candy-paint Cadillacs kill\nSo check out the hoes my Cadillac fills\n20-inch wide, 20-inches high\nHo, don't you like my 20-inch ride?\n20-inch thighs make 20-inch eyes\nHoping for American 20-inch pies\nPretty-ass clothes, pretty-ass toes\nOh, how I love these pretty-ass hoes\nPretty-ass, high-class, anything goes\nCatch 'em in the club throwing pretty-ass bows\nLong john drawers, long john stalls\nAny stank puss make my long john pause\nWomen on their cell making long john calls\nAnd if they like to juggle, get long john's balls\n\nAll my players in the house that can buy the bar\nAnd the ballin'-ass niggas with the candy cars\nIf you a pimp and you know you don't love them hoes\nWhen you get on the floor, nigga, throw dem bows\nAll my women in the house if you chasing cash\nAnd you got some big titties with a matching ass\nWith your fly-ass boots or your open-toes\nWhen you get on the floor, nigga, throw dem 'bows\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nDirty South mind blowing Dirty South bread\nCatfish fried up, Dirty South fed\nSleep in a cot'-picking Dirty South bed\nDirty South gurrls give me Dirty South head\nHand-me-down flip-flops, hand-me-down socks\nHand-me-down drug dealers hand me down rocks\nHand me down a 50-pack Swisher Sweets box\nAnd goodfella rich niggas hand me down stocks\nMouth full of platinum, mouth full of gold\n40-Glock cal' keep your mouth on hold\nLie through your teeth, you could find your mouth cold\nAnd rip out your tongue cause of what your mouth told\nSweat for the lemonade, sweat for the tea\nSweat from the hot sauce, sweat from the D\nAnd you can sweat from a burn in the 3rd degree\nAnd if you sweat in your sleep, then you sweat from me\n\nAll my players in the house that can buy the bar\nAnd the ballin'-ass niggas with the candy cars\nIf you a pimp and you know you don't love them hoes\nWhen you get on the floor, nigga, throw dem bows\nAll my women in the house if you chasing cash\nAnd you got some big titties with a matching ass\nWith your fly-ass boots or your open-toes\nWhen you get on the floor, nigga, throw dem 'bows\nHit by stars, hit by cars\nDrunk off the liquor getting hit by bars\nKeep your girl close cause she's a hit, by far\nHit by the Neptunes, hit by guitars\nAfro picks, Afro-chicks\nI let my \"Soul Glow\" from my Afro dick\nRabbit out the hat, pulling Afro tricks\nAfro-American, Afro thick\nOverall country, overall jeans\nOverall Georgia, we overall clean\n\"Southern Hospitality\" or \"overall mean\"\nOverall triple, overall beams\nThugged-out niggas wear thugged-out chains\nThugged-out blocks playing thugged-out games\nAll black, tinted up thugged-out Range\nDTP stay doing thugged out thangs\n\nAll my players in the house that can buy the bar\nAnd the ballin'-ass niggas with the candy cars\nIf you a pimp and you know you don't love them hoes\nWhen you get on the floor, nigga throw dem bows\nAll my women in the house if you chasing cash\nAnd you got some big titties with a matching ass\nWith your fly-ass boots or your open-toes\nWhen you get on the floor, nigga, throw dem 'bows\nAll my players in the house that can buy the bar\nAnd the ballin'-ass niggas with the candy cars\nIf you a pimp and you know you don't love them hoes\nWhen you get on the floor, nigga, throw dem bows\nAll my women in the house if you chasing cash\nAnd you got some big titties with a matching ass\nWith your fly-ass boots or your open-toes\nWhen you get on the floor, nigga throw dem 'bows\nNigga, throw dem 'bows\nNigga, throw dem 'bows\nNigga, throw dem 'bows\nNigga, throw dem 'bows"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsRest of My Life Lyrics\nIf you live for somethin', you're not alone my friend\nSo fill up your cup and lift your lighter, a toast to life\n\nLuda\nThey say what don't kill me can make me stronger\nSo two drinks a night should help me live longer\nI blow some smoke just to give my lungs a test\n'Cause why tip-toe through life to arrive safely at death?\nI'm on a journey, yeah I'm on a roll\nSometimes gotta close my eyes just to open my soul\nAnd tonight is the night I got a feeling that I'm about to act a fool\nSo if you go fix some drinks me and Usher about to break some rules\n\nThat's somewhere to go, but the world is movin' slow\nI was born for the fast life\nI go for broke, a lesson I can't afford\nBut for what it's worth I'm ready to pay\nFor the rest of my life\nFor the rest of my life\nOh, oh, oh\n\nNa, na ,na, hey, oh\nNa, na, na, hey, oh\nNa, na, na, hey, oh\nNa na, na, hey\nFor the rest of my life\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nIf I got one life to live, I'ma party 'til I'm dead\nWhat the hell is a life worth livin' if it's not on the edge?\nTryna keep my balance, I'm twisted so just in case I fall\nWritten on my tombstone should say \"Women, Weed, and Alcohol\"\n\nThat's somewhere to go, but the world is movin' slow\nI was born for the fast life\nI go for broke, a lesson I can't afford\nBut for what it's worth I'm ready to pay\nFor the rest of my life\nFor the rest of my life\nOh, oh, oh\n\nNa, na ,na, hey, oh\nNa, na, na, hey, oh\nNa, na, na, hey, oh\nNa na, na, hey\n\nIf you live for somethin', you're not alone my friend\nSo fill up your cup (fill up your cup)\nLift your lighters, a toast to life\nI'm stuck in this moment, freeze the hands of time\nCause I feel inner peace when I'm out of my mind\nAnd you can call me crazy, but I like to roll the dice\nSo I'm willin' to bet that I'ma be crazy for the rest of...\n\nFor the rest of my life\nFor the rest of my life\nFor the rest of my life"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsGet Back Lyrics\nHeads up! (woop, woop) Heads up! (woop, woop)\nHere's another one! (another one)\nAnd an-and another one\nO-o-oh!\n\nYeek yeek! (woop, woop) why you all in my ear?\nTalking a whole bunch of shit that I ain't trying to hear!\nGet back motherfucker, you don't know me like that!\n(Get back motherfucker You don't know me like that)\nYeek yeek! (woop, woop) I ain't playing around!\nMake one false move I'll take ya down\nGet back motherfucker, you don't know me like that!\n(Get back motherfucker You don't know me like that)\n\nWho-o-o!! S-s-so c'mon, c'mon!\nDon't get swung on, swung on!\nIt's the knick knack paddywhack, still ride in Cadillacs\nFamily off the street! made my homies put the baggies back\nStill stacking plaques! (yep!) still action packed! (yep!)\nAnd dough!! I keep it flipping like acrobats!\nThat's why I pack a mac, that'll crack 'em back\n'Cause on my waist there's more Heat than the Shaq Attack\nBut I ain't speaking about ballin, ballin\nJust thinking about brawlin till y'all start bawlin\nWe all in together now, birds of a feather now\nJust bought a plane so we changing the weather now\nSo put your brakes on, caps put your capes on\nOr knock off your block, get dropped and have your face flown\nCause I'll prove it! scratch off the music!\nLike hey little stupid! don't make me lose it!!\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nYeek yeek! (woop, woop) why you all in my ear?\nTalking a whole bunch of shit that I ain't trying to hear!\nGet back motherfucker, you don't know me like that!\n(Get back motherfucker You don't know me like that)\nYeek yeek! (woop, woop) I ain't playing around!\nMake one false move I'll take ya down\nGet back motherfucker, you don't know me like that!\n(Get back motherfucker You don't know me like that)\n\nI came (I came) I saw (I saw)\nI hit 'em right dead in the jaw (in the jaw)\nI came (I came) I saw (I saw)\nI hit 'em right dead in the jaw (in the jaw)\nI came (I came) I saw (I saw)\nI hit 'em right dead in the jaw (in the jaw)\nI came (I came) I saw (I saw)\nI hit 'em right dead in the jaw (in the jaw)\n\nSee I caught 'em wit a right hook, caught 'em wit a jab\nCaught 'em wit an uppercut, kicked 'em in his ass\nSent him on his way cause I ain't for that talk!\nNo trips to the county, I ain't for that walk!\nWe split like two pins at the end of a lane\nWe'll knock out your spotlight and put an end to your vain\nPut a DTP pendant at the end of yo chain\nThen put the booty of a Swisha at the end of a flame\nYeek yeek! (woop, woop) why you all in my ear?\nTalking a whole bunch of shit that I ain't trying to hear!\nGet back motherfucker, you don't know me like that!\n(Get back motherfucker You don't know me like that)\nYeek yeek! (woop, woop) I ain't playing around!\nMake one false move I'll take ya down\nGet back motherfucker, you don't know me like that!\n(Get back motherfucker You don't know me like that)\n\nHey! You want what wit me?!\nI'm a tell you one time, don't FUCK wit me!\nGet down! Cause I ain't got nothing to lose\nI'm having a bad day, don't make me take it out on you!\nYou want what wit me?!\nI'm a tell you one time, don't fuck wit me!\nGet down! Cause I ain't got nothing to lose\nAnd I'm having a bad day, don't make me take it out on you!\n\nMan! Cause I don't wanna do that\nI want to have a good time and enjoy my Jack\nSit back and watch the women get drunk as hell\nSo I can wake up in the morning wit a story to tell\nI know it's been a lil while since I been out the house!\nBut now I'm here, you wanna stand around running your mouth?!\nI can't hear nothing you saying or spitting, so wassup!\nDon't you see we in the club?! Man shut the fuck up!!\nYeek yeek! (woop, woop) why you all in my ear?\nTalking a whole bunch of shit that I ain't trying to hear!\nGet back motherfucker, you don't know me like that!\n(Get back motherfucker You don't know me like that)\nYeek yeek! (woop, woop) I ain't playing around!\nMake one false move I'll take ya down\nGet back motherfucker, you don't know me like that!\n(Get back motherfucker You don't know me like that)\nAh! We in the Red Light District!\nAh! We in the Red Light District!\nWh-o-oh! We in the Red Light District!\nAh! We in the Red Light District!\nWh-o-oh! We in the Red Light District!\nWh-o-oh! The Red Light District!\nWh-o-oh! The Red Light District!\nAh, we in The Red Light District"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsHo Lyrics\nHo (Ho!), you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho, I said that you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho (Ho!), you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho, I said that you's a ho (Ho!)\n\nYou doin' ho activities with ho tendencies\nHoes are your friends, hoes are your enemies\nWith ho energy to do what you do\nBlew what you blew, screw what you screw\nY'all professional like DJ Clue, pullin' on my coat tail\nAnd why do you think you take a ho to a hotel?\nHo tell everybody, even the mayor\nReach up in the sky for the ho-zone layer\nCome on playa once a ho always\nAnd hoes never close they open like hallways\nAnd here's a ho cake for you whole ho crew\nAnd everybody wants some 'cause hoes gotta eat too\n\nHo (Ho!), you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho, I said that you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho (Ho!), you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho, I said that you's a ho (Ho!)\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nCan't turn a ho into a housewife, hoes don't act right\nThere's hoes on a mission, and there's hoes on a crackpipe\nHey ho how ya doin', where ya been?\nProlly doin' ho stuff 'cause there you ho again\nIt's a ho wide world, that we livin' in\nFeline, feminine, fantastical women\nNot all, just some, you ho who you are\nThere's hoes in the room, there's hoes in the car\nThere's hoes on stage, there's hoes by the bar\nHoes by near, and hoes by far\nHo! (But can I get a ride?!) No!\n(C'mon nigga, why?!) 'Cause you's a\n\nHo (Ho!), you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho, I said that you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho (Ho!), you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho, I said that you's a ho (Ho!)\n\nYou gotta run in your pantyhose, even your daddy knows\nThat you suckin' down chocolate like daddy-os\nYou hoes are horrible, horrendous\nOn taxes, y'all writin' off hoes as dependents\nI see the ho risin', it ain't surprisin'\nIt's just a hoasis with ugly chicks faces\nBut hoes don't feel so sad and blue\n'Cause most of us niggas is hoes too\nHo (Ho!), you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho, I said that you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho (Ho!), you's a ho (Ho!)\nYou's a ho, I said that you's a ho (Ho!)\n\nMuthafuckas I'm so tired of y'all niggas always talkin' 'bout ho this, ho that; you the muthafuckin' ho nigga. I wasn't no ho last night\n(Ho, bring yo ass!)\nOkay, hold on"}
{"text":"43 ContributorsHow Low Lyrics\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\n\nHaha, Luda!\nShe can go lower than I ever really thought she could\nFace down, ass up\nThe top of your booty jiggling out your jeans\nBaby pull your pants up\nI like it when I see you do it\nBetter than I've ever seen I done befo'\nA lot of, women, drop it to the ground\nBut how low can you go?\nLower than your mama's ever seen it in her lifetime\nNever would've imagined it, not even in her right mind\nPractice in front of that mirror, now you doing it on the dance flo'\nMad 'cause I can't get with you, chick, just show me how to dance, oh\nI may not wanna get low, so I'm posted up, kinda like a player do\nBut if you come to the crib, then I might show you girls a thang or two\nYeah, I think you a superstar, with a ass like that you gotta blow\nBefo' you make it big, there's just one thang that I gotta know\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\n\nI can go low (go low), lower than you know\nGo low (go low), lower than you know\nGo low (go low), lower than you know\nGo low (go low), lower than you know\n\nI be like knick, knack, patty, wack\nOh, where my kitty cat?\nGive a dog a bone\nHow many licks does it take 'til I get to the center and let a realer nigga take you home?\nI can make this show stop, soon as he hear this fo' pop\nFrom A-T-L-A-N-T-A-N all the way down to yo' block\nPut the needle on the record\nAnd I make her get lower than a Lamborghini\nAnd if she really get low, then I'ma shoot a video and put it all on TV\n'Cause I like that French vanilla (French vanilla)\nAnd the caramel (and the caramel)\nBut when it comes to chocolate (when it comes to chocolate)\nI know that very well\nAsian persuasion, no discrimination, I love how they seem to please us\nI wanna taste them butter Rican pecan peanut butter cups like Reese's Pieces\n'Cause I think you a superstar, with a ass like that you gotta blow\nBefo' you make it big, well, there's just one thang that I gotta know\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\n\nI can go low (go low), lower than you know\nGo low (go low), lower than you know\nGo low (go low), lower than you know\nGo low (go low), lower than you know\n\nDrop it, hit it, dump it, split it\nDon't, stop \u2013 get it, get it\nPut it in reverse just to back it up\nLet me put some Luda in it\nShow me whatchu working with\nI'll show you some of this bankroll\nYeah, you a superstar\nThere's just one thang I gotta know, so\n\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nHow low can you go? How low can you go?\nI can go low (go low), lower than you know\nGo low (go low), lower than you know\nGo low (go low), lower than you know\nGo low (go low), lower than you know"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsRollout (My Business) Lyrics\nRollout, rollout\nRollout, rollout\nRollout, rollout\nRollout, rollout\n\n(Rollout) I got my twin Glock .40's (Rollout) cocked back\n(Rollout) Me and my homies (Rollout), so drop that\n(Rollout) We rollin' on twenties, (Rollout) with the top back\n(Rollout) So much money (Rollout) you can't stop that\n(Rollout) Twin Glock .40's (Rollout) cocked back\n(Rollout) Me and my homies (Rollout), so drop that\n(Rollout) We rollin' on twenties, (Rollout) with the top back\n(Rollout) So much money (Rollout) you can't stop that\n\nNow, where'd you get that platinum chain with them diamonds in it?\nWhere'd you get that matchin' Benz with them windows tinted?\nWho them girls you be with when you be ridin' through?\nMan, I ain't got nothin' to prove, I paid my dues, breakin' the rules, I shake fools while I'm takin' a cruise\nTell me who's your weed man, and how do you smoke so good?\nYou's a superstar, boy, why you still up in the hood?\nWhat in the world is in that bag? What you got in that bag?\nA couple of cans of whoop ass, you did a good-ass job of just eyein' me, spyin' me\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\n(Rollout) I got my twin Glock .40's (Rollout) cocked back\n(Rollout) Me and my homies (Rollout), so drop that\n(Rollout) We rollin' on twenties, (Rollout) with the top back\n(Rollout) So much money (Rollout) you can't stop that\n(Rollout) Twin Glock .40's (Rollout) cocked back\n(Rollout) Me and my homies (Rollout), so drop that\n(Rollout) We rollin' on twenties, (Rollout) with the top back\n(Rollout) So much money (Rollout) you can't stop that\n\nMan, that car don't come out until next year, where in the fuck did you get it?\nThat's eighty thousand bucks gone, where in the fuck did you spend it?\nYou must have eyes on your back 'cause you got money to the ceilin'\nAnd the bigger the cap, the bigger the peelin', the better I'm feelin', the more that I'm chillin', winnin', drillin' and killin' the feelin'\nNow, who's that bucked naked cook fixin' three course meals?\nGettin' goosebumps when her body taps the six inch heels\nWhat in the world is in that room, what you got in that room?\nA couple of gats, a couple of knives, a couple of rats, a couple of wives, now it's time to choose\n\n(Rollout) I got my twin Glock .40's (Rollout) cocked back\n(Rollout) Me and my homies (Rollout), so drop that\n(Rollout) We rollin' on twenties, (Rollout) with the top back\n(Rollout) So much money (Rollout) you can't stop that\n(Rollout) Twin Glock .40's (Rollout) cocked back\n(Rollout) Me and my homies (Rollout), so drop that\n(Rollout) We rollin' on twenties, (Rollout) with the top back\n(Rollout) So much money (Rollout) you can't stop that\nAre you custom made, custom paid, or you just custom fitted?\nPlayStation 2 up in the ride, is that Lorenzo-kitted?\nIs that your wife, your girlfriend or just your main bitch?\nYou take a pick, while I'm rubbin' the hips, touchin' lips to the top of the dick and then, \"Whew\"\nNow, tell me who's your housekeeper, and what you keep in your house?\nWhat about diamonds and gold, is that what you keep in your mouth?\nWhat in the world is in that case, what you got in that case?\nGet up out my face, you couldn't relate, wait to take place at a similar pace, so shake, shake it\n\n(Rollout) I got my twin Glock .40's (Rollout) cocked back\n(Rollout) Me and my homies (Rollout), so drop that\n(Rollout) We rollin' on twenties, (Rollout) with the top back\n(Rollout) So much money (Rollout) you can't stop that\n(Rollout) Twin Glock .40's (Rollout) cocked back\n(Rollout) Me and my homies (Rollout), so drop that\n(Rollout) We rollin' on twenties, (Rollout) with the top back\n(Rollout) So much money (Rollout) you can't stop that\n\nGet out my business, my business\nStay the fuck up out my business, ah\n'Cause these niggas all up in my shit\nAnd it's my business, my business\nStay the fuck up out my business\n'Cause it's mine, oh, mine\nMy business, my business\nStay the fuck up out my business\n'Cause these niggas all up in my shit\nAnd it's my business, my business\nStay the fuck up out my business\n'Cause it's mine, oh, mine\nAh, ah, Timbaland, Ludacris\nDisturbing Tha Peace (Woo)\nYeah, uh, c'mon, what's up? What's up? Come here (Ugh)\nCome here, go to sleep (Uh)\nGo to sleep right now (Ahh), right now (Ugh)\nGo to sleep, go to sleep\nGo to sleep (Ah-uhh)\nGo to sleep (Ahh)"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsAct A Fool Lyrics\nDrop! 2 Fast\nDrop! 2 Furious\nI'm too fast for y'all, man\nDrop! 2 Fast\nDrop! 2 Furious\nI'm too fast for y'all, ahh!\n\nYou just came home from doin a bid\nTell me whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nSomebody broke in and cleaned out your crib\nBoy, whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nJust bought a new pair and they scuffed your shoes\nTell me whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nNow them cops tryna throw you in them county blues\nBoy, whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\n\nTalkin' about gats, traps, cops and robbers\nIt's 9-1-1, please call the doctor!\nEvacuate the building and trick the pigs\nSince everybody wanna piece, we gon split ya wigs\nSee some fools slipped up and over-stepped they boundaries\nYou about to catch a cold, stay the fuck around me!\nYa peeps talkin 'bout \"What kinda shits he on?\"\nYou disappear like \"Poof, bitch be gone!\"\nYou think twelve gon' catch me? Gimme a break!\nI'm super-charged with the hide-away license plate\nIt seems they wanna finger print me and gimme some years\nThey'll only get one finger while I'm shifting gears\nI got suede on my roof, wood grain on the dash\nSheep skin on the rug, Golden Grain on the stash\nHydraulics all around so I shake the ride\nWe go front, back and side to side, what?!\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nSome punk just tripped up and made you spill your drink\nTell me whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nNow your car just stopped on a empty tank\nBoy, whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nIf you got late bills and you lost your job\nTell me whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nIf you about to get drunk and you ready to mob\nBoy, whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\n\nLet's take it to the streets 'cause I'm ready to cruise\nJust bought me and my cars all some brand new shoes\nAnd the people just stare so I love to park it\nAnd I just put a computer in the glove compartment\nWith the pedal to the floor, radar in the grill\nTV in the middle of my steering wheel\nIt's my car's birthday, so we blowin' them candles\nMore speakers in the trunk than my ride can handle\nGot my name in the headrest, read it and weep\nNOS tank in the back, camel hair on the seat\nAnd when I pull up to the club, I get all the affection\n'Cause the women love the paint and they can see their reflection\nI'm about to take off, so F what ya heard\nBecause my side mirrors flap like a fuckin' bird\nAnd for the fools, we gon' clock one and we'll pop one\n'Cause my folk ridin shotgun with a shotgun\nYou just got hustled for a wad of cash\nMan whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nNow your friends just smoked up your brand new stash\nSay whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nNow them girls up the block still runnin they mouth\nBoy, whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nIf anyone talk bad about the Dirty South\nTell me what I'm gon' do? Act a fool!\n\nI got my eyes wide shut and my trunk wide open\nDid donuts last week and the streets still smoking\nSee, I'm off that anti-freeze and my car is tipsy\nOff the off-ramp, doin' about a hundred and fifty\nRollin through East Point, on way to Ben Hill\nSlide a five to the junkie to clean my windshield\nGot the whole crew ridin' and we startin' shit\nI even got a trailer hitch with a barbeque pit\nNow all you wanna do is get drunk and pout\nPlus your new name is Fire 'cause we stomped you out\nAnd yeah, we blow trees and beez that's fantastic\nSo girls, hold ya weave while I'm weaving through traffic\nI kicked to fifth gear and tear the road apart\nYou'll be like lil John Q and get a Change of Heart\nIt's one mission, two clips and some triple beams\nI'm about to blow this whole shit up to smithereens!\nThe pot holes in the street just bentcha rims\nTell me whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nMan, that ain't sticky, that's just sticks and stems!\nBoy, whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nCatch ya man with another bitch up in ya bed\nLadies, whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\nIf the bottle's all gone and your eyes are red\nBoy, whatcha gon' do? Act a fool!\n\n2 Fast (2 Fast), 2 Furious (2 Furious)\n2 Fast, act a fool!\n2 Fast (2 Fast), 2 Furious (2 Furious)\n2 Fast, act a fool!\n2 Fast (2 Fast), 2 Furious (2 Furious)\n2 Fast, act a fool!\n2 Fast (2 Fast), 2 Furious (2 Furious)\n2 Fast, act a fool!\n2 Fast (2 Fast), 2 Furious (2 Furious)\n2 Fast, act a fool!\n2 Fast (2 Fast), 2 Furious\n2 Fast, act a fool!"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsPimpin\u2019 All Over the World Lyrics\n(Oh yeah) The fancy cars\nThe women and the caviar\nYou know who we are\nCause we're pimpin' all over the world\nThe fancy cars\nThe women and the caviar\nYou know who we are\nCause we're pimpin' all over the world\n\nSing it, hoes (The world, the world, the world)\nAll over the world, baby\nIt's only right that I share my experiences with y'all\nCause I've been places you'll never imagine (That's right)\nBut I'ma start it at home\nWhen I see a girl I like, I walk straight up to them and I'm like\n\nUh, hey girl, how you doin'?\nYou are the woman that I'm really pursuin'\nAnd I would like to get to know ya, can you gimme ya name?\nIf you jot down ya number, you'll get mine in exchange, hey\nSee I'm the man of this town\nAnd I hope you wouldn't mind if I showed you around\nSo when you go to certain places you'll be thinkin of me\nWe got people to meet and many places to see, hey\nMm, I'm really diggin' ya lips\nBut be careful where you walkin' when you swingin' them hips\nI'm kinda concerned that you'll be causin' a crash\nWith your traffic jam booty, heads pausin' so fast, hey\nI wouldn't trade you for the world, I swear it\nI like ya hair and every style that you wear it\nAnd how the colors coordinate with your clothes\nFrom your manicured nails to your pedicured toes (Woo)\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\n(Oh yeah) The fancy cars\nThe women and the caviar\nYou know who we are\nCause we're pimpin' all over the world\nThe fancy cars\nThe women and the caviar\nYou know who we are\nCause we're pimpin' all over the world\n\nYeah, you hear the song so dance\nDon't always think I'm tryna get in your pants\nUm, cause see me, my pimpin's in 3D\nI'm takin' you places you only see on TV\nTryna show ya how you livin' is trife\nHow many guys you know can bring the Travel Channel to life?\nOne day we on the Autobahn swervin', drivin'\nNext day, we in the sun on the Virgin Islands\nIf you with me ain't no time to sleep\nEspecially at Wet Willies on Miami Beach\nBut I drop you off and pay you no attention\nIf make it to Atlanta's Brina Brothers convention\nThen jump in the car and just ride for hours\nMakin' sure I don't miss the homecoming at Howard\nHawaii to D.C., it's plenty women to see\nSo if yo ass don't show up, it's more women for me, hey\n(Oh yeah) The fancy cars\nThe women and the caviar\nYou know who we are\nCause we're pimpin' all over the world\nThe fancy cars\nThe women and the caviar\nYou know who we are\nCause we're pimpin' all over the world\n\nI'm in New York at the Puerto Rican Day Parade\nThen at night, I'm in New Orleans drinkin' hand grenades\nOutnumbered by the dozens at the Jazz Fest\nIn Mardi Gras, all the women tryna show me they chest, ay\nI'm in Jamaica spendin' massive bucks\nWhile the ladies all beggin' me to mash it up\nI had sad beginnings when I rapped with no fans\nNow it's all happy endings on my lap in Japan, hey\nI used to think that it was way too cold\n'Til I went to Canada and saw some beautiful hoes\nNow I hit the Caribana every year in Toronto\nThen fly to Illinois to get a taste of Chicago\nUh, oh yet and still\nYou wouldn't believe your eyes if you went to Brazil\n(But where the best at?) Ain't no need of even askin' brah\nThe best women all reside in Africa, and that's real (Woo)\n(Oh yeah) The fancy cars\nThe women and the caviar\nYou know who we are\nCause we're pimpin' all over the world\nThe fancy cars\nThe women and the caviar\nYou know who we are\nCause we're pimpin' all over the world\n\nSing it, hoes (The world, the world, the world)\n\nPimpin' pimpin' pimpin'\nLadies and gentlemen as we ride out\nCan we have all the real pimps\nPlease put both of your pinky fingers high in the air?\nNow ladies, look around with me\nLet's see if we can weed some of these niggas out\nCause it ain't no way that all these niggas could be pimpin'\nNow if you happen to see a nigga\nWith two sweat patches up under his arms\nLook like he been swimmin' in shoulder height water\nPlease tell that nigga, \"Put your hands down\"\nIf you smell like you been at work all day and Drakkar\nPlease put your hands down\nNow look up at the pinky fingers that are still in the air\nIf you see him ashy around the knuckles\nLike the nigga wash half of his hands\nAnd lotion three quarters of his body\nPlease say, \"Put your hands down\"\nIf your spinnin' rims spin counter clockwise, you are not pimpin'\nIf you are dancin' on the dancefloor\nAnd you look to your left and your right\nAnd there is not a woman in sight\nGuess what? You guessed it - you are not pimpin'\nIf your vodka and cranberry is really really dark like blood\nThat's because you didn't order Vodka buddy\nThat's why it's three dollars a glass, a-put your hands down\nNow look down, look down\nI need, I need everybody to pull up your pants leg one time\nOkay, you see the nigga with the white socks? Not pimpin'!\nSorry, unless you part of the Beat It entorauge\nIf your shoes have a buckle on 'em, you're not pimpin'"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsTell Me What They Mad For Lyrics\nCome around the hood, see sittin' here lookin' good\nTell me what they mad for\nYou should be on the radio, soundin' like I made a million dollars\nTell me what they mad for\nTell me what they mad for\nGirl tell me what they mad for\nTell me what they mad for\n\nIf you sellin' all the records and you fuckin' all the bitches\nAnd you sit a top of the charts and you livin' out your wishes\nWith your chains all smothered and your watches all glittered\nAnd your ghost and your phantoms all comin' home to visit\nOr maybe cause your bitches was never really your bitches\nWith your baby mama fucking every rapper in the business\nNiggas saying you was better when the drugs was in your system\nNow your crack swag gone ever since you came from prison\nGot you tweeting all stupid, is you skatin', is you dissin'\nFound out your Ghost leased and your Phantom just rented\nWon\u2019t need it in your name like Pac when he went missing\nMakaveli lives on so I\u2019m riding on you bitches\nHail Mary be the witness, Lord Willin' I was dealing\nStupid motherfucking five star, tatted on his ceiling\nBullseye, be the motherfucking target for this killing\nAin't y'all the motherfuckers with the millions?\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nCome around the hood, see sittin' here lookin' good\nTell me what they mad for\nYou should be on the radio, soundin' like I made a million dollars\nTell me what they mad for\nTell me what they mad for\nGirl tell me what they mad for\nTell me what they mad for\n\nIs it cause I got houses on every coast\nOr that I'm on that Forbes list making rich rappers look broke\nWhile they blowing that smoke I'm blowing a couple millions\nMaking a killing stunting on imposters\nOnly rapper in the game with a grammy and a Oscar\nSeven figure movie deals, eight figure bank runs\nAnd I'm still feeding the same hood that I came from\nAny car that you got I've already drove\nAny chick that you hit, my nigga, I've already hoed\nSay it with your chest, like these diamonds in my charm\nName on my headphones, label tatted on my arm\nAir traffic control say Ludacris is insane\nThat nigga daugher's birthday is the tail number on his plane\nFuck with me, but nobody fucking with me\nTaking a shot of my Cognac\nMore millions, real G's chugging with me\nIf I'm happy there's no reason you should be sad for\nSo if somebody, can somebody please\nCome around the hood, see sittin' here lookin' good\nTell me what they mad for\nYou should be on the radio, soundin' like I made a million dollars\nTell me what they mad for\nTell me what they mad for\nGirl tell me what they mad for\nTell me what they mad for"}
{"text":"27 ContributorsRepresentin Lyrics\nI\u2019ll be representing, representing\nI\u2019ll be representing, representing\n\nYou represent for bad bitches all around the world\nThe way you put it down in between the sheets\nIs like no other girl\nYou done take it a whole another level of freakiness\nWhen you blow my mind\nTo the point where all the other women\nKinda feeling like you stole their shine\nSo I better come with it, then I better come spilt it\nAnd I can admit that I\u2019m feeling a little pressure\nWhen you\u2019re telling me I better come get it\nBut I\u2019m the man for the job\nCan\u2019t nobody do it quite like I do\nAnd the same go for you\nWe a match made in heaven\nI\u2019ma stand right by you\nWhile you saying\n\nJust wanna keep all your attention, baby\nYeah, alright, alright, alright, hey\nIt turns me on to know I turn you on\nYeah, ok, ok, ok, hey\nCan I grab the wheel and drive you crazy?\nYeah, alright, alright, alright, hey\nSit in the front row and watch me perform\nYou do that and you gonna learn today, hey\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nI\u2019ll be representing, representing\nGet on that thang, get on that thang\nGet on that thang and represent\nI\u2019ll be representing, representing\nGet on that thang, get on that thang\nGet on that thang\nWatch how I put it down\n\nPut it down like ay\nOnly know you can do it\nThen I\u2019ma hit every single one of your spots\nAnd really you don\u2019t need to walk me through it\nBut you can talk me through it\nWhat I\u2019m asking if it\u2019s mine\nCause I'mma be your motivation\nJust tryna see if you can break my fucking spine\nI\u2019m so attracted, to the way you carry yourself\nAnd keep your composure\nYou a lady in the street\nBut behind closed doors you\u2019re a fucking soldier\nA brother would never know\nThat\u2019s how you like it, huh?\nBut that booty pack a mean punch\nAnd I\u2019ma spike it, huh, while you saying\nJust wanna keep all your attention, baby\nYeah, alright, alright, alright, hey\nIt turns me on to know I turn you on\nYeah, ok, ok, ok, hey\nCan I grab the wheel and drive you crazy?\nYeah, alright, alright, alright, hey\nSit in the front row and watch me perform\nYou do that and you gonna learn today, hey\n\nI\u2019ll be representing, representing\nGet on that thang, get on that thang\nGet on that thang and represent\nI\u2019ll be representing, representing\nGet on that thang, get on that thang\nGet on that thang\nWatch how I put it down\n\nYou\u2019re incredible, edible, unforgettable\nBody is so angelical, the rebel with a cause\nSpeaking in hypotheticals\nCould I marry you if I wanted to\nI\u2019ll take you how you coming\nJust learn to live with your flaws\nEven though it\u2019s not that many\nYou give me that good and plenty\nThen I walk around all day grinning\nMy mind and body are gone\nThat JJ so sublime throw it in the air and turn to sunshine\nYou make me wanna call the crib\nAnd say I\u2019m never coming home, Luda!\nWhile you saying\nJust wanna keep all your attention baby (Keep all your attention)\nYeah, alright, alright, alright, hey\nIt turns me on to know I turn you on\nYeah, ok, ok, ok, hey\nCan I grab the wheel and drive you crazy? (Yeah)\nYeah, alright, alright, alright, hey\nSit in the front row and watch me perform\nYou do that and you gonna learn today, hey\n\nI\u2019ll be representing, representing\nGet on that thang, get on that thang\nGet on that thang and represent\nI\u2019ll be representing, representing\nGet on that thang, get on that thang\nGet on that thang\nWatch how I put it down\n\nI\u2019ll be representing (I'm representing), representing\nI\u2019ll be representing (I'm representing), representing\nWatch how I put it down"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsVitamin D Lyrics\nAw yeah, yeah\nI mean there's a lot of women out here that's just, you know\nThey just deficient in so many things, man\nYou missing so many key nutrients in your life\nI, I just want you to stay healthy in these streets\nOh, no no\nSomebody gotta give you some vitamin D, you know what I mean?\nYeah, Luda\n\nShe got them handlebars\nGotta keep a tight grip on that donkey\nShe be givin' out battle scars\n'Cause she got a tight grip on that monkey\nShe told me, all the weight, go straight to that ass\nMake a student be late for the class\nShe make a nigga wanna holla even throw a couple dollars\nSo I gotta get straight to the cash\nI love big cheeks in between them sheets\nJump back, I can't help myself\nGot a nigga so weak and I get no sleep\n'Cause the girls stay wetter than Michael Phelps\nAnd she get right down to the business\nShe stimulate the five senses\nAnd she like it when I grab her hair\nBut I might pull out them extensions\nMy intentions is good for her\nShe like that I'm rich and a lil hood for her\nI beat it right and leave it good sore\nReal niggas is always what I stood for\nI'm all in, I don't play with it\nI fall in and I lay in it\nIf I call in, I might stay in it\nAnd if it's all a sin, then I'll pray in it\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nYeah, she need her fix tonight (fix tonight)\nWhoever she been with, he just ain't hittin' it right (hittin' it right)\nSo let me have my way with both your lips tonight (lips tonight)\nGirl, take this D, I don't want you gettin' sick tonight (sick tonight, sick tonight)\nShe said go another round for me, another round (go another round for me)\nShe said she can take this D, yeah, yeah (she said she can take it)\nShe said go another round for me, another round (go another round for me)\nShe said she can take this D (she said she can take it)\nTake the D\n\nShe got them thunder thighs\nI'm just tryna get struck by some lightnin'\nMan, her booty is plus her size\nAnd I like my cakes with some icin'\nYeah baby, [ciero a milo\nQue a sabora azucca]\nBonita, freaky lil chica\nLet's try the whole Kama Sutra, get down\nDrip down, let it trickle down, dig her down\nSmack it up, flip it and rub it down, love her down\nI'ma keep it 100 now, that girl nasty\nI'm never lettin' the opportunity pass me\nBut I love her boots when they thigh high\nGuess it's true what they say when you're havin' fun, the time, it really do fly by\nTake her legs, put 'em sky high\nClimb to the top, I'ma skydive\nOff, you feel the pump like it's sawed off\nShot gun, hold tight, don't fall off\nWork, I'ma call off\nDon't be tryna leave, lil mama, that's too much ass to haul off\nYou need a U-Haul, if you leave me, woman, I'ma get blue balls\n'Cause ain't nobody got sex like you\nThat can dress like you or impress like you\nYou make a brother wanna woosa\nYeah, she need her fix tonight (fix tonight)\nWhoever she been with, he just ain't hittin' it right (hittin' it right)\nSo let me have my way with both your lips tonight (lips tonight)\nGirl, take this D, I don't want you gettin' sick tonight (sick tonight, sick tonight)\nShe said go another round for me, another round (go another round for me)\nShe said she can take this D, yeah, yeah (she said she can take it)\nShe said go another round for me, another round (go another round for me)\nShe said she can take this D (she said she can take it)\nTake the D\n\nOoh, she got that snapback\nKinda ass if you blink, that it might hurt you\nAll up on the Snapchat\nTry to get a screenshot and she might curse you\nThat there be your eyes only\nLove when she grind on me\nIf they said I'm talkin' shit\nYou know someone was lyin' on me\nShe ain't for that he say, she say\nThis shakin' the DJ replay\nIs like everyday is her bday\n'Cause everyday's her get this D day\nAnd she got to work with a smile on\nAnd her skin is always glowin'\nAnd her JJ ain't all in the streets\n'Cause she ain't out her hoein', Luda\nYeah, she need her fix tonight (fix tonight)\nWhoever she been with, he just ain't hittin' it right (hittin' it right)\nSo let me have my way with both your lips tonight (lips tonight)\nGirl, take this D, I don't want you gettin' sick tonight (sick tonight, sick tonight)\nShe said go another round for me, another round (go another round for me)\nShe said she can take this D, yeah, yeah (she said she can take it)\nShe said go another round for me, another round (go another round for me)\nShe said she can take this D (she said she can take it)\nTake the D"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsHip Hop Quotables Lyrics\nHi, my name's Ludacris, and I'm high as giraffe pussy\nAnd I'm close to the edge, so your parents can come push me\nI curse so much just to get on they nerves\nI got kids actin' a fool from the traps to the 'burbs\nMy filthy mouth, it won't fight cavities or beat plaque\nSo I shot the tooth fairy and put my old teeth back\nI take a shit on the equator, the size of a crater\nAnd make government officials breathe harder than Darth Vader\nIt's the chicken and the beer that makes Luda keep rappin'\nBut no pork on my fork, I don't even speak pig Latin\nI go fishin' on my lake, with yo bitch as the bait\nPlus I eat many MCs, but I don't gain no weight\nThe numba one chief rocka, clean out yo' rap lockers\nI'm as stiff as a board, y'all more shook than maracas\nBut my trix ain't for kids, if you dig'um you'll get smacked\nI'll clock ya I'll spring forward, you fall back\nEvery album that I drop has got more than ten bangers\nThat's cause I'm a shot caller, y'all fools is Crank Yankers\nAin't a damn thing changed but the ice on my chain\nTo get chicks from Portland, Oregon to Portland, Maine\nNow I roll up torpedoes, get blunted with rastas\nFor a hefty fee, I'm on your record like Bob Costas\nI own so many jerseys, I'm a throwback mess\nI hit the cleaners and tell 'em I want a full-court press (Ow)\nSo momma toast your glass while I'm countin' my cash\n'Cause every single is a smash, I'm hot as a camel's ass\nThe competition never just wanna admit that they lost\nAnd that they last about as long as my part in The Wash\nFrom yo' car to a crap game, no one rolls wit'chu\nOne of Mini-Me's shoes got more sole than you\nSo by the time you figure out why your record ain't spinnin'\nI'm in the strip club smokin' with President Clinton\nSo stand clear of the long sideburns and goatee\nThey made the mold of the penis enlarger off me (Me)\nI'll be in another room when I hit from the back\nNot to mention my refrigerator's taller than Shaq (Yeah)\nSo yippie kay yay, yippie yie yie yo (Yo)\nIf you can't swim, don't smoke my hydro ('Dro)\nI've been lookin for a woman just to put my stamp on\nBut a lot of y'all are mo' stuck up than tampons (Woo)\nSo wash all your sins away and stop playin' (Yeah)\nIf God's line is busy you might have to two-way him (Mhm)\nThen catch me in your backyard, playin' croquet\nAnd when I'm drunk, tell them kids, \"Drugs are bad, mmm'kay?\"?\nOr watch me swing my chain at the Roscoe's off Pico\nGot seven cars, get all my rims at Chrome Depot\nAnd people think I'm bad, they say \"Ooh, he's so evil!\"\n'Cause I go on blind dates with actual blind people (Ow)\nBut my album's out the store, yours be on the shelf\nI heard you masturbate a lot, so y'all keep to yourself\n'Cause these women want a man that stay up and stay strong\nLike the NBA, you gotta play hard or go home\nAll that shit that y'all talkin', y'all can pop it to them\n'Cause Ludacris'll beat you down with a prosthetic limb\nI put my foot so deep in your ass that you can smell it\nAnd your breath will turn to Foot Locker water repellant\nI'm the man, I got money far as the eyes can see\nAnd I'm in a group, I split dough with me, me, and me\nSo much money in my jewelry that I'm damn near sorry\nSo I'ma trade my earrings in and get a Ferrari (Woo)\nI buy cars with straight cash, have meetings with Donald Trump\nY'all meet with Honda, no payments for twelve months (Uh-huh)\nTake a look at yo' life, and no wonder you so sad\nY'all put up with more shit than a colostomy bag (Fool)See Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsMy Chick Bad (Remix) Lyrics\nMy chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\n\nYeah, ha ha (you're right.. you're right)\nThe \"pussy rules the world\" version\nYou ready? Let's go! Ha\nI got a all-star lineup for y'all, right (Ms. 32)\nBut I'mma start off in Atlanta, Georgia (you know I gotcha)\nWe gon' give you some new blood\nDiamond, holla at 'em baby!\n\nRide or die chick with a pocket full of relish (hey!)\nJimmy Choo fetish keep me fresh like lettuce\nBitches get jealous, cause I'm quite cocky\nSince 14 ain't nann ho stop me\nMoney, I get it on the tracks I spit it\nThat's why the credit cards don't come with no limits (OHH!)\nY'all just don't get it, a crib with no tenants\nWalk through closets like I'm walkin out of Lennox\nNow that's Swagger on a hundred, thousand, trillion\nRoll with bad bitches and they all look Brazilian\nThese niggas can't leave me, I swear they can't leave me\nAss so fat and the pussy like Fiji\nDiamond!\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nMy chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\n\nHa, OHH!\nYeah, yeah, WOO!\nWe gon' take it from the hood of Atlanta, Georgia\nDown to the hoods of Miami, Florida\nWhat up Trina?\nHolla at 'em baby, let's GO!\n\nI'm Da Baddest Chick and they don't call me that for nothin (nope)\nDiamond Princess straight VVS stuntin\nLight gray eyes, hourglass frame\nStill got the crown for best ass in the game (woo!)\nHips of a goddess, watch how I throw 'em\nSo good it make him wanna tattoo my lips on him (ahh!)\nI'm so bad and I rep that hood\nPussy stay wet, sex so good\nTen years strong, you should act like you know me\nHead so fire make you do the hokey-pokey (woo!)\nA good stroke in and a good stroke out (okay)\nNow that's what I'm all about\nI'm Da Baddest\nMy chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\n\n{*laughs*} Yeah! OHH!\nWoo! ... Okay\nWe gon' take it from Miami\nWe gon' travel north, 'til we get to Philly, right?\nAnd we gon' stop in Philly\nWe gon' holla at my girl E-V-E\nLet's GO!\n\nYeah I took a couple years off, came back still bustin\nStill reppin Philly, still the Eve of Destruction (yeah)\nStill pushin buttons that'll do away the roof\nStill walkin 'round with five thousand dollar boots (woo!)\nSo when I'm in the club, your chicks get jealous\nCause I'm that bitch and still keep a mean fetish (OHH!)\nStill stack lettuce, huh, still stack cheese\nAnd I got a bad temper, tell your nigga say p-lease (ha ha ha)\nCause this is for the G's, never for the busters\nSo put your diamond rings on and get yourself a hustler\nBetter yet a customer, guaranteed to buy it\nSick from them lips, caramel, wanna try it?\nMy chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, my chick hood\nMy chick do stuff that your chick wish she could\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\nMy-my chick bad, badder-badder than yours\n\nYes, ha ha... OHH!\nAnd I'm lovin it, HEY!\nLet's go, all my chicks are bad\nAll my chicks is hood\nAll my chicks is better than yours, AH!"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsGrowing Pains Lyrics\nOkay, I remember the days\nHigh rights, low lefts, even stevens and fades\nTroops, Lottos, and BKs, those was the days\nHi-tec boots spray painted witcha names\nT-shirts airbrushed that read the same\nThick herringbone chain, one gold with yo' initial\nHarris Photos, group shots, can you remember?\nBarry him told his bitch go to the prom and die\nDidn't lie shot his-self in the head with the 4-5\nWhen she disobeyed, had North Clayton crazed\nJust to reiterate dog those was the days\nFo' the invasions of haters, man crews from all around\nUsed to get down at True Flavas, bumpin Kilo\nRockin Damage, Cross Colour and Paco\nWhile playboys stepped in talent shows\nProm night, tux and Kangol was so cool\nFuck them new model cars we ridin' old school (old school)\n\nWe were tryin so hard\nHard to survive\nCause even though we were young\nWe had to stay strong\nNo matter what we went through\nIt was me and my crew\nAnd that's how it went\nWhen we were kids\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nIn 3 months we stayed in Jamestown, Hamwood and Diplomats\nPlayed with Transformers, G.I. Joe's and Thundercats\nWe was lovin' that, before the Starter jacket jacks\nFor notes from Red Oaks had folks scared to come through\nCollege Park after dark, Crown Victorias police unmarked cars\nBe aware, Wayne Williams was out there, but we ain't care\nKids was gettin stabbed and ditched out there too busy playin\nDouble dare ya touch shorty on the ass, that's a bet\nWant your Kool-Aid and sugar, smack your hands and say \"sweat\"\nIt's mine now place it in my Louis Vuitton pouch\nThump a nigga on his knuckles make him say ouch\nSlouch socks, box Chevy Caprice\nHot Niss, cut da whole Disturbin' Tha Peace\nWit no conscience, broke niggas call 'em non cents\nNo comments, it's Lil' Fate payin homage to College Park\n\nWe were tryin so hard\nHard to survive\nCause even though we were young\nWe had to stay strong\nNo matter what we went through\nIt was me and my crew\nAnd that's how it went\nWhen we were kids\nI had a Long John but no Silver, no gold or plat\nI was simply red from the years I been holdin' back\nWith two sides to a book I lick stamps and light matches\nAnd set fires in garbage pails and cabbage patches\nA child of the corn been wild since I was born\nClimbin' over barbed wire, clothes got torn\nShoes got muddy and my clique turned cruddy\nWherever I go they went they my buddies\nI brush teeth, brush naps and calm streets\nDreamin' of Cadillacs, wood wheels and plush seats\nCats with gold teeth and raps with such beats\nMacks with no grief and some sacks of green leaf\nWhen I loaded my cap gun I was ready for action\nStarin' at beer cans and a moment to crack one\nWanna hang with the big boys and play with the big toys\nAnd be with the people makin all that got damn noise, man\n - repeat 2X"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsSex Room Lyrics\nWelcome to my sex room\nSex room, room, oh, oh, oh\nWelcome to my sex room, room\n\nHah, welcome to my little sanctuary\nYou been lookin' so good all day\nAnd you really got a nigga pretty anxious ba-by\nBetter call your boss, tell him that your daddy's home\nTake a couple days off and take it off\nAnd leave nothin' but yo' T-shirt and your panties on\nFeelin' high but I'm hung real low, lookin' sorta like a tri-pod\nSo power down your cell phone, and power up your iPod\nPower down your inhibitions, and power up your inner freak\nYes, yeah fuck, is the only words that you finna speak\nIt's about to get real X-rated, can you handle what I'm 'bout to do?\nBut enough about me, let me think should I be worryin' about if I can handle you?\nDamn right I'ma get that thang and I'ma put my name on it\nAll night I'ma whip that thang, Allstate better put a claim on it\nI claim my territory, my tongue finna mark you up\nYou could be my firecracker, my tongue finna spark you up\nGet ready for blast-off, waterfalls gon' splash off\nYou might lose around four or five pounds so get ready to sweat your ass off\n\nWelcome to my sex room, where your body meets my body\nIt's our private afterparty, if you want it girl I got it\nIn my sex room, candles and the pole\nSex your body to your soul, from the bed down to the floor\nSex room, mirrors in the headboard\nEven got a camcord', baby, won't you dance\nIn my sex room, where your body meets my body\nIt's our private afterparty, if you want it girl, I got it\nIn my sex room\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nLet the candles burn (Room, room), I'ma turn these lights down (oh, oh, oh)\nAnd when your body gets hot, it'll get you licked up, and iced down (In my sex room)\nNipples hard as rocks (Room, room), lips as soft as cotton (Oh, oh, oh)\nYou the apple of my eye, and I got you spoiled rotten\nI'ma get my video camera, let's make a movie baby\nYou the star, so as soon as I press record, you gots to do me baby\nYou could stare all in the mirror, take a peak at how good you lookin'\nI'ma have your body smokin', take a look at what Luda's cookin'\nMy arm underneath your leg, legs all behind your head is how I gots to getcha\nRight hand, left hand on red in the bed like we been playin' Twister\nNow I got you tangled up, and you caught all in my web\nShould I let you loose? Nah, I think I'll get the blindfold instead\nYou better get a couple towels baby 'cause we about to slip and slide\nYou don't ever need a horse or a saddle, I'ma give you this dick to ride\nI'ma grant your every wish, and fulfill your fantasy\nAin't nobody else allowed in the sex room, it's only you and me\n\nWelcome to my sex room, where your body meets my body\nIt's our private afterparty, if you want it girl I got it\nIn my sex room, candles and the pole\nSex your body to your soul, from the bed down to the floor\nSex room, mirrors in the headboard\nEven got a camcord', baby, won't you dance\nIn my sex room, where your body meets my body\nIt's our private afterparty, if you want it girl, I got it\nListenin' to what your body say, we can do it every other kind of way\nHit it in the sun, up in the shade, tell me what it is, I got you babe\nBaby, let's hop up in the shower, baby, let me snatch up off that towel\nLet me get a vowel, I-O-U, so I-E-U mean I eat you\n(To my sex, to my sex) Come into this room\n(To my sex, to my sex) you know what I'ma do\n(To my sex, to my sex) Grab my body tight, don't let me go\nHow you wanna ride? Just let me know\nIn my sex room, (oh) room, room, oh, oh, oh\nKnow that I want it, legs in air (To my sex, to my sex)\nWith your toes pointed\nSo, baby\n\nWelcome to my sex room, where your body meets my body\nIt's our private afterparty, if you want it girl I got it\nIn my sex room, candles and the pole\nSex your body to your soul, from the bed down to the floor\nSex room, mirrors in the headboard\nEven got a camcord', baby, won't you dance\nIn my sex room, where your body meets my body\nIt's our private afterparty, if you want it girl, I got it\nIn my sex room\n\nSex room, room, oh, oh, oh\nI got it right here\nIn my sex room\nSex room, room, oh, oh, oh"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsSay It To My Face Lyrics\nHey, before I eat an MC I say my grace\nLeave you dead without a trace\nGot a problem with me, Say it to my face (to my face)\nTo my face (to my face) To my face (to my face)\nPut a pussy ass nigga all in his place\nDidn't your bosses ever tell you niggas you could be replaced\nTo the fans yous a disgrace\nGot a problem with me say it to my face(to my face)\nTo my face (to my face) To my face (to my face)\nPut a pussy ass nigga all in his place\n\nGot a chopper, kinda like a helicopter\nFor any nigga that thinks it's sweet\nAnd you better call the doctor, have you shakin' like a maraca\nDrippin' like this beat, blood spillin' like a faulty faucet\nPlug his ass, before you end up in a hearse\nPut the gear in reverse then you better hit the fucking\nGas {tires screech}\nYou broke n' now you bitter\nBut how the hell is a nigga gonna start beef with me\nOn his fucking twitter? (for real?)\nYou know where I be\nYou know where I stay, I ain't that hard to find\nAll up on my D, when the DTP boy\nYou sweeter than a valen... tine\nHow can you call yourself a man boy (man boy)\nYou's Ludacris number one fan boy (fan boy)\nThen you left and you're gone \"goodbye\" lazy\nI don't miss you\nThen you signed to a nigga, who signed to a nigga\nWho signed to another nigga (what the fuck?)\nSmart move, boy you dumb as hell\nYou should take your soul and have a end of the summer sale\nBut all your records are my theme song (why?)\n'Cuz I'm still shopping off your ringtone\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nHey, before I eat an MC I say my grace\nLeave you dead without a trace\nGot a problem with me, say it to my face (to my face)\nTo my face (to my face) To my face (to my face)\nPut a pussy ass nigga all in his place\nDidn't your bosses ever tell you niggas you could be replaced\nTo the fans yous a disgrace\nGot a problem with me say it to my face(to my face)\nTo my face (to my face) To my face (to my face)\nPut a pussy ass nigga all in his place\n\nAh, to you internet gangsters, Facebook hoes\nEmail bullies I can see your camel toe (HI!)\nInstead of talking to a nigga straight up\nYou'd rather send a text (text)\nWell I think you a bitch and you should change your sex (sex)\nHiding behind your phone screen (phone screen)\nBetter run the other way you playin' for the wrong team (team)\nDick in the booty ass nigga (dick in the booty ass nigga)\nOl' take another dude to the movies ass nigga\nI can see your Kit-Kat, gimme a break hit him in his face\nHow you keep it real when you know a nigga fake\nBetter hit the brakes when you see me nigga shake\nYou gon' run into convulsions, hater emotions and epileptic seizures\nPut a nail in a nigga your career is over hang'em up like jesus\nAmen (amen) sayonara (sayonara) ok then (ok then)\nNext time you cryin' tell a bitch nigga\nBut keep in mind... yous a bitch nigga\nHey, before I eat an MC I say my grace\nLeave you dead without a trace\nGot a problem with me, say it to my face (to my face)\nTo my face (to my face) To my face (to my face)\nPut a pussy ass nigga all in his place\nDidn't your bosses ever tell you niggas you could be replaced\nTo the fans yous a disgrace\nGot a problem with me say it to my face(to my face)\nTo my face (to my face) To my face (to my face)\nPut a pussy ass nigga all in his place\n\nPut a pussy ass nigga in his place\nWith that toolie on my waste like \"huh\"\nI put it to his face and ask the pussy nigga\n\"How it taste like? huh?\"\nHe said it taste like nine (nine)\nTold him it's a Glock 10 though (10 though)\nNiggas thinkin' this a game til' them shots hit his body\nBend his ass like limbo\nGive my shooters yo' info\nSend them right to yo place, put them right in yo face\nNigga like \"what you say?\"\nCatch you night time and then brighten your day\nShots at your head they dont like what you say\nCoroner\u2019s comin' ta wipe you away\nThink you a G, get hit right with the K\nWherever you standing, thats right where you lay (blah)\nY'all niggas run yall mouth just like a bunch of bitches\nPussy niggas talking just like a bunch of snitches\nLord be my witness, I ask for forgiveness\nBut if these pussy niggas keep runnin' they mouth\nI'mma give them the business\nHeard you pussy ass niggas talkin' bout me\nWhen I'm not around\nTold another nigga, so he told another nigga\nAnd it got around (got around)\nSo I told the other nigga\nGo tell the other nigga \"move outta town\" (outta town)\n'Cuz my dawg playin' hardball with the sawn off\nLike you out of bounds, BOOM!\nHey, before I eat an MC I say my grace\nLeave you dead without a trace\nGot a problem with me, say it to my face (to my face)\nTo my face (to my face) To my face (to my face)\nPut a pussy ass nigga all in his place\nDidn't your bosses ever tell you niggas you could be replaced\nTo the fans yous a disgrace\nGot a problem with me say it to my face(to my face)\nTo my face (to my face) To my face (to my face)\nPut a pussy ass nigga all in his place"}
{"text":"23 ContributorsMoney Maker Lyrics\nShake your money maker like somebody's bout to pay ya\nI see you on my radar, don't you act like you're afraid of shit\nYou know I got it, If you wanna come get it\nStand next to this money like - ey ey ey\nShake your money maker like somebody's bout to pay ya\nDon't worry about them haters, keep your nose up in the air\nYou know I got it, If you wanna come get it\nStand next to this money like - ey ey ey\n\nShake, shake, shake your money maker\nLike you were shaking it for some paper\nIt took your momma 9 months to make ya\nMight as well shake what your momma gave ya\nYou, you lookin' good in them jeans\nI bet you'd look even better with me in between\nI keep my mind on my money - money on my mind\nBut you's a hell of a distraction when you shake your behind\nI got J.O. up on my right side pourin' some cups\nMy whole hood is to my left and they ain't givin a fuck\nSo feel free to get loose and get carried away\nSo by tomorrow you forgot what you were saying today\nBut don't forget about this feeling that I am making you get\nAnd all the calories you burn from me making you sweat\nThe mile-high points you earn when we taking my jet\nAnd how everywhere you turn I'll be making you wet cause you can\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nShake your money maker like somebody's bout to pay ya\nI see you on my radar, don't you act like you're afraid of shit\nYou know I got it, If you wanna come get it\nStand next to this money like - ey ey ey\nShake your money maker like somebody's bout to pay ya\nDon't worry about them haters, keep your nose up in the air\nYou know I got it, If you wanna come get it\nStand next to this money like - ey ey ey\n\nSwitch, switch, switch it from right to left\nAnd switch it till you running right out of breath\nAnd take a break until you ready again\nAnd you can invite over as many friends as\nYou want to but I really want you\nJust be thankful that Pharrell gave you something to bump to hey\nLuda - I'm at the top of my game\nYou want my hands from your bottom to the top of your frame\nAnd I - just wanna take a little ride on your curves\nAnd get erotic giving your body just what it deserves and\nLet me give you some swimming lessons on the penis\nBackstroke, breaststroke, stroke of a genius\nYepp call me the renaissance man get up and\nI stay harder then a cinderblock man\nHey I'm just a bedroom gangster\nAnd I've been meaning to tell that I really must thank ya when you\nShake your money maker like somebody's bout to pay ya\nI see you on my radar, don't you act like you're afraid of shit\nYou know I got it, If you wanna come get it\nStand next to this money like - ey ey ey\nShake your money maker like somebody's bout to pay ya\nDon't worry about them haters, keep your nose up in the air\nYou know I got it, If you wanna come get it\nStand next to this money like - ey ey ey\n\nRelease Therapy, rock, rock, rock, rock\nRelease Therapy, rock, rock, rock, rock\n\nRock rock, rock it an make it work, girl\nPlease don't stop it until it hurts, girl\nYou - you been looking a little tipsy\nSo if you could just shake it a little this way\nSee I'm a member of the BBC\nThe original breadwinner of DTP\nYou the center of attention that is distracting the squad\nCause everybody in the campus like - OH MY GOD she can\n\nShake your money maker like somebody's bout to pay ya\nI see you on my radar, don't you act like you're afraid of shit\nYou know I got it, If you wanna come get it\nStand next to this money like - ey ey ey\nShake your money maker like somebody's bout to pay ya\nDon't worry about them haters, keep your nose up in the air\nYou know I got it, If you wanna come get it\nStand next to this money like - ey ey ey"}
{"text":"12 ContributorsWhat\u2019s Your Fantasy (Remix) Lyrics\nI wanna li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor\nI wanna ah-ah, you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I got to kn-kn-kn-know what's your fan-ta-sy\nI wanna li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor\nI wanna ah-ah, you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut you gotta let me kn-kn-kn-know what's your fan-ta-sy\n\nYou know what I need\nSomebody that who can come li-li-lick the clit (Alright)\nAnd a nigga who ain't thinking 'bout a Trina LP\nAnd I'll make him go and get my shit\nWe can go from a fly ass jetta to a Coupe De Ville\nHotel tally ho or the Beverly Hill\nA real nigga not the run of the mill\nCome and spank me and make me shoot to kill\nFrom the kitchen then you can move me\nTo the jacuzzi and out the booty\nCome and do your duty\nMe and fat dick Ludacris making us a movie\nBare naked in a bed of cash\nMake st-st-sttutter when I bare my ass\nTell your baby momma bye, she a thing of the past\nCause I'm a bad bitch and I'm off the glass (Okay)\nHaving sex in lil' jets menag\u00e9 tois\nGetting buck wild no matter where we are\nIndie 500 in the back of the car\nIn a dark ass club or on the back of a bar\nNever want, never ever wanna leave\nWork for me like league overseas\nI want a man to fulfill my needs\nTo keep my body trembling and buckle my knees\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nI wanna li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor\nI wanna ah-ah, you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I got to kn-kn-kn-know what's your fan-ta-sy\nI wanna li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor\nI wanna ah-ah, you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut you gotta let me kn-kn-kn-know what's your fan-ta-sy\n\nI wanna do it on the canopy\nI wanna do it where your girl gon' see, and get mad at me\nI want a nigga that'll grab the weave\nAnd turn my eyes Chinese\nTell me baby can you handle me?\nI wanna do it all in your mouth\nThen I'll pull the ass out\nMake it bounce 'til you pass out\nOr we can cut up in the grass\nAnd give the neighbors a flash\nCan you tell me who the bad motherfucker now?\nSaid I wanna take-ta-take-take a nigga back to the crib\nAnd I wanna do all the things, do all the things that I never did\nLike up on the top-to-top-top of the projects getting head\nOr you can find me in a dro-drop-drop-drop on dubs in the candy red\nI like a nigga when he face down, mouth wide\nPolo down with them blades on the ride\nKeepin' the pound with them K's on the side\nBut it's okay I'm gon break something tonight\nOh see get on your knees\nAnd I'll show you what's my fantasy\nLike up in the coupe, coupe\nTell your bitch she ain't gotta be mad at me\nI wanna li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor\nI wanna ah-ah, you make it so good I don't wanna leave\nBut I got to kn-kn-kn-know what's your fan-ta-sy\nYou gotta li li li lick me from my ass to my clit\nThen you gotta su-suck the pussy while I sit on your dick\nAnd I wanna talk some shit while I feel it get stiff\nAnd then ruba-dub on my tits while I nut on your lips nigga\n\nI'm a BK bitch, love to ride dick\nAss in his face, cock spread out\nNigga uptown, nigga down south\nSame ol' shit, bust in his mouth\nF-O-X call me rough sex\nEspecially when a bitch get right on the X\nGet it, right on X\nFuck him, check\nRight to the next\nBitches go right, Fox right to the left\nNigga can't fuck, burner his chest\n36 D's, Prada on the breasts\nBaddest, send him home, na na on his breath\nHow you think a bitch got my rep?\n3 Mills, still BK to the death\nStill don't give a fuck\nStill pose naked\nStill specialize in sittin' niggas faces\nPop magnum's by the cases\nX5, bitch, still spend big faces\nBig frown, brown, hold first places\nYou know what you can do nigga?\nYou can li li li lick me from my ass to my clit\nAnd ruba-dub up on my tits while I nu-nut on your lips, fucka\nI wanna li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor\nI wanna ah-ah, you make it so good I don't wanna leave\n(Remix, remix)\nI wanna li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor\nI wanna ah-ah, you make it so good I don't wanna leave (Remix, remix)\nBut you gotta let me kn-kn-kn-know what's your fan-ta-sy\nI wanna li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor\nI wanna ah-ah, you make it so good I don't wanna leave\n(Remix, remix)\nBut I gotta kn-kn-kn-know what's your fan-ta-sy\nI wanna li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes\nAnd I wanna move from the bed down to the down to the to the floor\nI wanna ah-ah, you make it so good I don't wanna leave\n(Remix, remix)\nBut u gotta let me kn-kn-kn-know what's your fan-ta-sy\nBut I got to kn-kn-kn-know what's your fan-ta-syEmbed"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsNumber One Spot Lyrics\nYeah, baby! Hehe, yeah\n(Woo!) Back again! (That's right)\nLuda!\nHahahaha (Feel this)\nIt gets meaner and meaner each time, baby\nFeeling real good, too (Holla at 'em, man)\nWhat up, Uncle 'Face? (Yeah!)\nHaha, haha\nI'm a bull in this industry, man (Tell 'em)\nSome would rather run down and get one cow (Nah)\nI think I'd rather walk down and get 'em all\u2014you know what I'm talking 'bout, right? (You know what's up, right?)\nLook\u2014\n\nI'm never going nowhere, so don't try me\nMy music sticks in fans' veins like an IV\nFlows poison like Ivy\u2014oh, they grimy!\nAlready offers on my sixth album from labels tryna sign me\nRespected highly; Hi, Mr. O'Reilly!\nHope all is well\u2014kiss the plaintiff and the wifey\nDrove through the window, the industry super sized me\nNow, the girls see me and a river's what they cry me\nI'm on the rise, so many people despise me\nGot party ammunition for those tryna surprise me (Surprise!)\nIt's a celebration, and everyone should invite me\nRoll with the crew or meet the bottom of our Nikes (Bow!)\nExplorer like Dora\u2014these Swipers can't swipe me\nMy whole aura's so mean in my white tee\nNobody light-skinned'ed repping harder since Ice-T\nYou disagree, take the Tyson approach and bite me!\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nWhoa! Don't slip up or get got (\"Why not, man?\")\nI'm coming for that number-one spot (Alright, woo!)\nRappers swearing they on top (Nuh-uh, uh-uh)\nBut I'm coming for they number-one spot (Alright, man)\nScheme-scheme, plot-plot (Say what?)\nI'm coming for that number-one spot! (Woo! Hey)\nKeep it going\u2014it won't stop (\"What you doing, man?\")\nI'm coming for that number-one spot\n\nYes, indeed! Ludacris: I'm hotter than Nevada\nReady to break the steering column on your Impala\nIf I get caught, bail-out; po'-po'\u2014I tell 'em, \"Holla\"\nIn court, I never show up, like Austin Powers' fa-zha\n\"Father, father,\" and hey, I love gold\nBut can buy anything I want from the records I've sold\nJacuzzi's hot, Cristal is so cold\nNeighbors catch contacts from the blunts that I've rolled\nA pig in a blanket, a shmoke and a pancake\nDrop albums nonstop, once a year for my fans' sake\nI crush mics until my hand breaks\nThen shag now and shag later 'til these women can't stand straight\nThe Luda-meister got 'em feeling so randy\nI'm double-X-L, so I call 'em my \"eye candy\"\nBrush my shoulder and I pop my collar\n'Cause I'm worth a million gazillion fafillion dollars\nWhoa! Don't slip up or get got (\"Why not, man?\")\nI'm coming for that number-one spot (Alright, woo!)\nRappers swearing they on top (Nuh-uh, uh-uh)\nBut I'm coming for they number-one spot (Alright, man)\nScheme-scheme, plot-plot (Say what?)\nI'm coming for that number-one spot! (Woo! Hey)\nKeep it going\u2014it won't stop (\"What you doing, man?\")\nI'm coming for that number-one spot\n\nCausing lyrical disasters, it's the master\nMake music for Mini-Mes, models and Fat Bastards\nThese women trying to get me out my Pelle Pelles\nThey strip off my clothes and tell me, \"Get in my belly!\"\nStay on the track, hit the ground running like Flo-Jo\nSent back in time, and I've never lost my mojo\nLadies and gentlemen, ahh, boys and girls\nLudacris sent down to take over the whole world\n\nWhoa! Don't slip up or get got (\"Why not, man?\")\nI'm coming for that number-one spot (Alright, woo!)\nRappers swearing they on top (Nuh-uh, uh-uh)\nBut I'm coming for they number-one spot (Alright, man)\nScheme-scheme, plot-plot (Say what?)\nI'm coming for that number-one spot! (Woo! Hey)\nKeep it going\u2014it won't stop (\"What you doing, man?\")\nI'm coming for that number-one spot"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsMad Fo Lyrics\nYou know one thing I hate?\nIt's when a person come up to me or I hear somebody say, \u201cIt must be nice\u201d\nYou know my answer that is, \u201cYou must be a hater\u201d\nTell me why you mad fo' (Remo the Hitmaker)\nHey, listen here, Luda, we gotta keep it real, boy\nWe gon' do it like this, baby\nListen here, you know what I'm sayin'? Luda\n\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\nCome around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n'Cause you be on the radio soundin' like you made a million dollars\n(Yeah, time to start puttin' grown-ass men on time out)\nAyy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n(Go to the corner and cry somewhere, man)\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n(Old, old insecure ass, nigga, yo' heart pump Kool-Aid, man)\nTell me, what they mad fo'? Huh\n(What you mad at me for? Luda)\n\nIs it 'cause I got houses on every coast?\nOr that I'm on that Forbes list makin' rich rappers look broke?\nWhile they're blowin' that smoke, I'm blowin' a couple million, makin' a killin' stuntin' on impostors\nOnly rapper in the game with a Grammy and an Oscar (And the winner is, woo!)\nSeven-figure movie deals, eight-figure bank runs\nAnd I'm still feedin' the same hood that I came from (Yeah!)\nAny car that you got, I've already drove\nAny chick that you hit, my nigga, I've already hoed (I did, ow!)\nSay it with your chest like these diamonds in my charm\nName on my headphones, label tatted on my arm (Oh!)\nAir traffic control say, \u201cLudacris is insane\u201d\nThat nigga daughter's birthday's the tail number on his plane (Tell 'em, real talk)\nFuck with me, but nobody fuckin' with me\nTakin' a shot of cognac, more millions, real G's, chug it with me\nIf I'm happy, there's no reason you should be sad for (Why?)\nSo will somebody, can somebody please\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nTell me, what they mad fo'? (Ha)\nCome around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good (Skrrt)\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n'Cause you be on the radio (Yeah) soundin' like you made a million dollars\nAyy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh (Ha)\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n(Is you niggas hatin' 'cause you mad, or is you mad 'cause you hatin'?)\nTell me, what they mad fo'? (Um)\n(Choose one, hater)\nTell me, what they mad fo'? (Oh) Huh\n\nNow if these niggas hatin' on me, I'ma kill 'em dead (Dead)\nIf I wasn't rappin', I'd be probably be in the feds\nIn the cell, gettin' mail, with a million-dollar bail\nBut instead of countin' blues, I'ma take this YSL\nAnd this Gucci, and this Louis (Louis), Prada 'cause I'm hot (Hot)\nI used to ball in Philly, with that nina Iguodala\nI B7 my Beamer (Skrrt), check aboard my collar (Collar)\nAnd when I check my bank account, I'm checkin' for them commas\nI'm like all these niggas haters (Haters), all these bitches fuckin' (Fuckin')\nAt twenty-four, I went and bought a Ghost like it was nothin'\nAt twenty-five, I bought that Aston Martin, now we stuntin'\nAnd you niggas still talkin', and all this money, shit, you bluffin'\nYou bluffin' (Bluffin'), you bluffin' (Bluffin'), I really think you bluffin' (Bluffin')\nA hundred thousand dollars, man, on bottles just to crush 'em\nNow tell me why you hatin'? You hatin' 'cause you mad?\nOr is you mad because you hatin'? Boy, you sad\nTell me, what they mad fo'? (Ha)\nCome around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n'Cause you be on the radio soundin' like you made a million dollars\nAyy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n(Haha, look, yeah, okay) Huh\n\nI see why you mad, I'm countin' all this money\nAnd I'm poppin' all these tags, hoppin' to it, fuckin' bunnies\nReal nigga, one hundred, you tryna do it, I done it\nI spit sick on this rap shit, make 'em sick to they stomach\nI'm clean and you hatin', mad 'cause I made it, keep it real with a real nigga\nI got racks on racks and a black Maybach, call it black on black 'cause I kill niggas\nIn the club, all girls, no niggas, don't talk to me 'cause I ain't really tryna hear niggas\nIn the coupe, it's the truth and the roof go poof, vamoose, I can make it disappear, nigga\nSee this the type of shit that I be sayin'\nJust because I'm ballin', that don't mean a nigga playin'\nYup, haters can blow me like a fan\nFlyer than a bitch, I don't think I'ma ever land\nBut in the meantime, baby, what's your plan?\nYou can call me daddy, but I can't be your man\nFiendin' like they addicts, when I pull it out, they panic\nBi-Bi-Bitch, I do damage, you gon' need an ambulance\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\nCome around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n'Cause you be on the radio soundin' like you made a million dollars\nAyy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh\nTell me, what they mad fo'? (Ayy, showtime)\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n(Put one hand in the air if you know somebody that's mad at you right now for no reason)\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n(Can you hear me now?) Huh (Ayy)\n\nAyy, ridin' around in my Jeep (Jeep, ayy), bumpin' that 2Pac (Rock, oh)\nI'm walkin' 'round in my hood (Hood, damn), cocked back two Glocks (Glocks, damn)\nIn '98, in my status (Status, hey), I came back, I'm the baddest (Baddest)\nChristian's on my feet (Damn), I told you, I'm the baddest (Ayy)\nAll the way in Paris (Yeah), don't talk, you'll get embarrassed (Ayy)\nMy watch is fuckin' up (Ayy), yeah, you get embarrassed (Oh)\nFive hunnid on them racks (Get 'em), pulled out them stacks (G's, oh)\nSee, bitches talkin' crazy (Crazy), drop top Maybachs (Oh, get 'em)\nMy life is just ludicrous (Woo), sucker, you just new to this\n430's pullin' up (Skrrt), goddamn, we do this shit (Ayy)\nChickens and the waffles (Ayy), chillin' in the villa\nBumpin' Ludaversal, gettin' that scrilla\n\nTell me, what they mad fo'? Huh\nCome around the hood (Ayy), see us sittin' there lookin' good\n(Ladies and gentleman)\nTell me, what they mad fo'? (Ayy)\n'Cause you be on the radio (Right) soundin' like you made a million dollars (Oh, hands up)\nAyy, tell me, what they mad fo'? (Yuugh) Huh\nTell me, what they mad fo'? (Woo)\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n(Hey, Luda, you know why these haters mad right?)\nTell me, what they mad fo'? Huh\n(The truth shall set you free)\n\nIf you sellin' all the records and you fuckin' all the bitches\nAnd you sit on top of charts and you livin' out your wishes\nWith your chains all smothered and your watches all glittered\nAnd your Ghost and your Phantoms all comin' home to visit\nOr maybe 'cause your bitches was never really your bitches\nWith your baby mama fuckin' every rapper in the business\nNiggas sayin' you was better when the drugs was in your system\nNow your crack swag gone ever since you came from prison\nGot you tweetin' all stupid, is you skatin'? Is you dissin'?\nFound out your Ghost leased and your Phantom just rented\nWon\u2019t leave it in your name like Pac when he went missin'\nMakaveli lives on, so I'm ridin' on you bitches\nHail Mary be the witness, Lord Willin', I was dealin'\nStupid motherfuckin' five star tatted on his ceilin'\nBullseye, be the motherfuckin' target for this killin'\nAin't y'all the motherfuckers with the millions?\n\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\nCome around the hood, see us sittin' there lookin' good\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\n'Cause you be on the radio soundin' like you made a million dollars\nAyy, tell me, what they mad fo'? Huh\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\nTell me, what they mad fo'?\nTell me, what they mad fo'? Huh"}
{"text":"50 ContributorsBlueberry Yum Yum Lyrics\nYeah, uhh\nThink I'mma try somethin that I ain't\nI ain't never did before on this one\nLet's go\n\nGet your lighters, roll that sticky, let's get higher (let's get higher)\nGot that blueberry yum yum and it's that fire (it's that fire)\nGet your lighters, roll that sticky, let's get higher (let's get higher)\nGot that blueberry yum yum and it's that fire (it's that fire)\n\nGot a little bit of blueberry yum yum\nAnd I never woulda thought that it could taste this gooooooooood\nThank God for the man who put it in my hooooooood\nIt's got me singin melodies I never thought I woooooould\nI'm feelin sorry for the homies who be smokin woooooood\nChop chop, break it down for a player like ye ye ye ye..\nI'm 'bout to find me a woman and skeet skeet skeet skeet..\nI'mma keep smokin 'til I reach my peak peak peak peak..\nOr 'til I'm stuck and my body feels weak weak weak weak..\nHeaded down to the Dungeon, wonderin, if they got some mooooore\nAnd if they don't then I'mma haveta, settle fa, some 'droooooo\nBut it just ain't cool cause right on after, I'mma have-ta go\nAnd continue on my mission fishin for the yum yum but I'm movin slowwww\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nGet your lighters, roll that sticky, let's get higher (let's get higher)\nGot that blueberry yum yum and it's that fire (it's that fire)\nGet your lighters, roll that sticky, let's get higher (let's get higher)\nGot that blueberry yum yum and it's that fire (it's that fire)\n\nYes fire fire got me so tired, I'mma stop drop and rollllllll\nPut a wet towel under the doooooooooooor\nDon't pass it I can't take it no moooooooooooore\nSomebody take a trip down to the stoooooooore\nHurry please, cause I need some snacks snacks snacks snacks..\nAnd how long will it take it to get back back back back..?\nYes indeed, I'm a little off track track track track..\nOff this weed, and I'm full of that 'gnac 'gnac 'gnac 'gnac..\nGet on in that stankin Lincoln, crank it up, and riiide\nAnd it ain't enough room to fit the, other chicks, insiiiide\nI'm so hungry with the munchies I'mma eat everything, in siiight\nMe and my blueberries together and everything's, alriiiiight\n\nGet your lighters, roll that sticky, let's get higher (let's get higher)\nGot that blueberry yum yum and it's that fire (it's that fire)\nGet your lighters, roll that sticky, let's get higher (let's get higher)\nGot that blueberry yum yum and it's that fire (it's that fire)\nGet the propane, roll dem thangs, and let's blow dis place uuuuuuuup\nYou already know what'suuuuuuuuuuuup\nI mighta had to pay some extra buuuuuuuucks\nBut I really don't give a fuuuuuuuuuuck\nCause a brother feels great great great great..\nBut I'm barely awake wake wake wake..\nAll bent out of shape shape shape shape..\nSo stomp on yo' brake brake brake brake..\nIf you tokin good then all the smokers, let me see, your flame\nDon't know what you got but my bag'll, put yo' stuff, to shame\nAll the different kinds and other flavors, they don't mean, a thang\nYou can't compare it don't stare cause I got the ultimate Mary Jane\n\nGet your lighters, roll that sticky, let's get higher (let's get higher)\nGot that blueberry yum yum and it's that fire (it's that fire)\nGet your lighters, roll that sticky, let's get higher (let's get higher)\nGot that blueberry yum yum and it's that fire (it's that fire)"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsLast of a Dying Breed Lyrics\nOww!\nLuda!\n\nI done killed so many niggas in the booth, I sell rappers on eBay (Hey!)\n'Cause every one of my verses been instant like replays (Hey!)\nSpeakers get blown like candles on your B-day (Hey!)\n'Cause Luda's catalog got more records than the DJ (Woo!)\nThe bank yells, \"Mayday!\" 'cause every day's a payday\nI put it on tape, and then, I sell it like Ray J (Ahh!)\nBut not out the store (Nope!), straight to the buyer\n'Cause I slung 'em out my trunk like the D.C. Sniper\nAnd six albums later, you'll deposit every word\n'Til your memory bank gives me the credit I deserve\nTop five, damn right! But really, it just hit me\nThat three of yo' top five's too scared to fuck with me! (Woo!)\nSo how can I advance if you don't give me no opponents? (Yeah!)\nHow can you see the future if you living for the moment? (Yeah!)\nHip-hop couldn't die, I never offered my condolence\nBut I'll offer y'all a day of atonement\n\n'Cause I'm a lyricist to the death, so I got what you need\nLudacris, I'm the last of a dying breed\nAnd we almost extinct, so I'm saying it loud\nSay it with me: MC means move the crowd\nSay it with me: MC means move the crowd\nSay it with me: MC means move the crowd\nM\u2014M\u2014MC means move\u2014m... (I got it, baby!)\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nAnd I'm an MC, I move the crowd like Moses\nLike the Red Sea, I wear red like roses\nGo against me and you'll be dead like roses\nSpitting at your head for the bread like toasters\nNever had a holster, I keep it on my lap\nAnd hip-hop ain't dead, it just had a heart attack\nBut you see I keep it pumping, yeah, I got that heart back\nSo just call me Little Carter or Little Cardiac\nPrecious like an artifact, valuable like a quarterback\nHannibal, like they call me Jack, throwback like a Starter hat\nNow, how did he thought of that? I mean, how did he think of that?\nI mean, how did I think of that? Now, like a rental, bring it back\nI mean, how did I think of that? I surprise myself sometimes\nSomeone should throw me a surprise party for every rhyme\nEvery time I do it, I do it dirty like swine\nFor the Dirty and Five, hip-hop\u2014I'm alive!\n\nI'm a lyricist to the death, so I got what you need\nWeezy F, the last of a dying breed\nAnd we almost extinct, so I'm saying it loud!\nSay it with me: MC means move the crowd\nSay it with me: MC means move the crowd\nSay it with me: MC means move the crowd\nM\u2014M\u2014MC means move\u2014m\u2014move the crowd\nOwwwww!\nThey say O'Reilly don't like him (Nope!), Oprah won't invite him (Nope!)\nThe president denounced him (Yeah!), no one will announce him (No!)\nControversial lyrics like I'm crying for help (Hoo!)\n\"Very talented,\" but I should be ashamed of myself (Woo!)\nBut this is my art (Art), this is my music (Hey!)\nI'm speaking from the heart, hit \"Record\" and I'll lose it!\nBite my tongue for no one (No!), I'll put you on blast (Blast)\nSo all the news channels, y'all could kiss my ass!\nAnd if I dish it, I could take it (Yeah!), fix it if you break it (Yeah!)\nCould hit rock bottom and I'm still gon' make it! (Why?)\n'Cause I'm a born hustler, natural survivor\nSeed of a gangsta, I put that on my father\nYouTube or Google me, turn it up and play it (Hey!)\n'Cause many people think it, I just had the balls to say it (What!)\nAnd risk losing everything, I stand for the weak\nPlus, I live for my freedom of speech, 'cause\u2014\n\nI'm a lyricist to the death, so I got what you need\nLudacris, I'm the last of a dying breed\nAnd we almost extinct, so I'm saying it loud\nSay it with me: MC means move the crowd\nSay it with me: MC means move the crowd\nSay it with me: MC means move the crowd\nM\u2014M\u2014MC means move\u2014means\u2014move the crowd"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsPussy Poppin (P-Poppin) Lyrics\nOne more again head down pussy poppin on a handstand\n\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy poppin on a handstand\n\nOn a handstand\nOn my american banstands\nSummersalts cartwheels bitch just keep on dancing\nChinese splits-splits slide on down that pole-pole\nAnd feel this dick getin outa control-trol\nOh no keep goin till a nigga like me say stoooop\nLet it kiss the sky and then make it droooop\nTuck and twist, it's your luck if you fuckin Cris\nIm rubbin clits so stay in catch don\u2019t try to duck and miss\n(Bitch!) Do your stretches don\u2019t pull no hamstrings\nYou got me movin infact your doin the damn thang\nStronger muscles exersize every part of your body hurts\nLets do this sweatin thank God your bath and body works\nI like a woman who makes her own doe don\u2019t need a lot of help\nBut your heart\u2019ll melt if I put a thousand in your garder belt\nLipgloss traces your pierced in 11 places\nAnd your lips down town just made some familiar faces like WOAH!\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy poppin on a handstand\n\nI'mma send a chapter to this pussy poppin legacy\nShawna be that Bitch can't no bitches come fuck wit me\nWhen I pop that cris im on that business and bubbly\nWhen im in that 6 wit 20s spinin on luxury\nCuz I got that head game\nFuckin up that bed frame\nBut don\u2019t get me wrong now shawty gon\u2019 let that lead aim\nBetter learn that game shawty\nBetter get yo\u2019 man shawty\nFoe he endup tamed and be gone all in the brain shawty\nThis pimpin futuristic\nThis business so expensive\nThe way I brake it down for you bitches its so exquisite\nLet it go now front back watch me drop it like that\nShow me where that money at\nBoy come wit them 100 stacks\nNow break in wit that pussy poppin\nThat pussy droppin to the flo'\nAnd got these niggas slobbin' he wantin mo'\nWit out that doe popi ain't nuttin happen\nCuz that\u2019s the show im from the go u get that pussy poppin\nStopin that pussy dropin GONE\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy poppin on a handstand\n\nEvery time we hit the club\nWe at least 50 deep\nSmokin' purple, pourin' grichi got everybody geeked\nAt the club 7 days a week find DTP off in this bitch\nThat ho! poppin dropin God damn shawty who is this\nRedbone wit a scorpio tatted on her tummy\nIm sittin slouched back in the chair stuntin waving money\nAnd shawty start zig zaggin her derriere for me\nA bowlegged throughbreded said her name was strawberry\nUp her pussy she pushed in a whole bottle of Mo\nReached in my pocket grabbed a G and then threw it on the floor\nHere u deserve this doe now jump on stage and work the pole\nFace down ass up ho hands on those\nNow pop that couchie you know the procedure\nIf you want this cash gotta make that ass shake like a seziure\nEither Magic or Pleasers\nFind me spending cheese up\nMaxin out my visa\nTrickin on stip teasers\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy pussy poppin\nHead down pussy poppin on a handstand"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsBeast Mode Lyrics\nUh, mic check 1-2 (Go get 'em)\nListen close, nigga, yeah\n\nUh, if rappers want it, they can get it\nFlow tighter than four fat bitches sittin' in a Civic\nMy flows are unimaginable, Hannibal Lecter shit\nEatin' emcees for breakfast, bitch\nSince I was born to touch the mic,The First Time it's been a problem\nYour life was a mistake, your pops should've wore a condom\nYou niggas think you hard, I think you better come harder (Go hard)\nI leave rappers confused, like will.i.am's barber\nAh, fuckin' with Luda's not a great look\nA verse'll make your fans, unfriend you on Facebook\nClick, my styles are goin' into labor\nSo if stars won a war, I'm their daddy like Darth Vader\nAnd since I'm always high, it's kind of hard to overlook me\nFor over a hundred stacks, it's kind of hard to overbook me\nAnd a whole 'nother house for my cars is on my checklist\nCause to fit 'em in one garage, is like a nigga playin' Tetris\nBut they say patience is a virtue, cause I got your bitch stayin' out way past her curfew\nGuess I was a thief, that got away with these words\nSlangin' chickens out my whip, like I been playin' Angry Birds\nIn a black Rolls Royce, Dark Knight like Batman\nEverywhere you turn, the Ghost follows like Pac-Man\nAnd I sleep with the John Dillinger\nAnd always keep an eye half-open, like Forest Whitaker\nNo, you boys ain't ready for combat\nBe more worried if I renew my Def Jam contract\nWhat path is he on? Opponents, I laugh and be gone\nThey handin' in the towels like they work in Bed, Bath & Beyond\nBut in the midst of all the melee, y'all niggas just bitches with dicks like Sheneneh\nYour rap styles are phony, your lines are just dead\nAnd I be on them lines, like a nigga just played\nGuess I'm tryin' to say I'm advanced, you intermediate\nYou wouldn't know the real me, if your bitch Wikipedia'd it\nJust know that I never tried to be hard\nProbably cause Mr. Glock 40's my security guard\nYou'll get chopped like judo\nGangs in my hood make you reverse\nAnd change your color like the block's playin' Uno\nAnd, yes, some of my friends is still sellin' them drugs\nBut I just say they Weight Watchers like Jennifer Hud\nThey show me love\nThat's why I'll always stay reppin' until the death of me\nRappers talk shit, but ain't nobody ever stepped to me\nI hereby command all my fans' to inject it\nOverdose on Red Bull in your veins, if you ever slept on me\n(wake up)\nYeah, my mind is sharper than a guillotine\nAll the nines extended, from the knuckles of Wolverine\nNot a X-Man, but, man, I got that X\nSome of my artists switch labels, but I still get a check\nThe more albums they sell, the more we all win\nAnd I can be seen in thirty rocks like Alec Baldwin\nOr watchin' CBS in a Cadillac DTS\nI plan to reach the world, man, your plan is MetroPCS\n(can you hear me now)\nI changed my music up cause I was gettin' bored\nYou may not like the way I shoot, but my points go on the board\nMy name still engrained and these books will be the outcome\nAnd this one verse is harder than a lot of niggas' albums\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nPeace, fuck out of here, rewind that shit\nHa-ha-ha, Luda, ain't shit changed"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsBadaboom LyricsBig Bada boom, Luda\u2019s in this bitch\nPussy niggas clear the room\nI came through the door, I said it before\nI\u2019m the truth in this booth and you niggas all hoes\nCounterfeit rappers say I\u2019m stealing their flows\nBut I can\u2019t steal what you never made up bitch\nY\u2019all some duplicate rap cloning niggas\nI manufacture you hoes -- put on your makeup, bitch\nLet me explain, nothing\u2019s been new since Big Daddy Kane\nFlows will get recycled passed around to different names\nBut what\u2019s the same, that every verse I spit is insane\nGot more styles than any rapper in the game, 11 years and still counting\nAnd y'all get a couple hit records, make some noise and have the nerve to start shouting\nWho\u2019s gassing \u2018em, they blowing smoke up your ass, you fired up but I\u2019m just puff puff passing \u2018em\nUntil they roaches, buried in my ashtray\nNigga burn slow, better pray like it\u2019s your last day\nYou lying to yourself, just admit it\nMay not like the way I use it but you know you ain't invent it boy\nDo your research before you make a claim so bogus\nThat's disrespecting pioneers in the game\nFuck the fame but go ahead and get ya 5 minutes\nThen you front line cadets can report to your lieutenants\nSee I\u2019m ya past, I\u2019m ya future and ya present\nSo watch ya fucking mouth when you speak about a legend\n16 times platinum, 6 number 1 peaks\nSo I can give a fuck what you sold in ya first week\nYou\u2019s weak, softer than the Pillsbury dough boy\nDon\u2019t make me expose the truth, you\u2019s a ho, boy\nDon\u2019t make me get on that \"Stomp\" shit and get back at it\nYou rappers ain't even in my fucking tax bracket\nWhy am I wasting my time\nYeah I admit I get a little ludicrous with my rhymes, sometimes\nBut my fans know the difference because \u201cMy Chick Bad\u201d went platinum\nStill winning, motherfucker\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also likeThe nerve of you niggas man\nYou ain't got enough medals on your jacket to address me boy\nFall back in formation, y\u2019all outta line\nI was told not to kill a mosquito with a cannon\nSo the next time you gnats got a real problem\nDon\u2019t be a coward like a nigga that used to be signed to me going on twitter rants and shit\nNigga, say it to my face"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsGrew Up A Screw Up Lyrics\n\"I grew up a fucking screw-up\nGot introduced to the game, to the game then fucking blew up\"\n\nYeah! Dedicated to all my hustlers that's a product of they environment\nWhether getting money legally or ILLEGALLY\nWe gotta do what we gotta do to survive man!\nYeah! Grew up a screw up baby\nGot introduced to the game, I ain't took a breath yet\nLet's go!\n\nEver since I was an embryo, waiting to shape up and ship out\nSomething in my brain said, \"Wake up and kick out!\"\nRoberta and Wayne stayed up and flipped out\nCause when I came I was draped up and dripped out\nSnip the umbilical, spit the government chip out\nPeace up, A-Town down and then I dipped out\nAnd oh my gosh, the Osh Kosh was picked out\nI slipped in, even my baby stroller was tricked out\nSomebody get him, the little nigga's out of control\nPut a little bit of rum in my bottle I'll dream about diamonds and gold\nGold gold, to grow from an infant to toddler was effervescent\nThe essence of adolescence got my body feeling freshen\nFreshing freshing, and it was a blessing to rhyme and start rapping\nI was the best in my section with flows harder than erections\nStill the best but now I'm grown with more range than a Texan\nAnd I'm a heavyweight you niggas is lighter than my complexion\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\n\nAyyyy\nY'all already know what it is\nI'mma tell you nigga\nC.T., know what it is, 'bout 17-5\n\nHomey fronted me a zip, shit I made it a bird\nThat's seventeen and a half, all I need is the word\nSay the, ice is cool but them pots is hot\nYou better cook slow but that money come fast\nI got what you need I hope you brought all the cash\nYou know the kid pimping all over the world\nA hundred carats got me all over your girl\nYEAH, five bricks and my Gucci duffle bag\nA corporate thug, I run with a Playaz Circle\nI got a Field Mob that'll Disturb your Peace\nBlowing Sean Jay, all we do is smoke\nFinish counting my bread and I was getting some head\nWhat's up?\n\n\nI'mma be all the way real with this, look\nWhen I came into the game they ain't do nothing but doubt me\nNow the whole game's changed and it ain't nothing without me\nPicking up my sloppy seconds as they reach for the crown\nOnly reason you on that song is cause I turned that down\nI went from Hot Wheels to big wheels, Hyundais to Bentleys\nAnd five course meals, no more Popeye's and Blimpie's\nFrom alright to handsome, from one room to mansions\nFrom hanging on the block to throwing parties in the Hamptons\nFrom, broke as a joke to rich as a bitch, I bought a\nPlane and a boat and six other whips, no MARTA\nFrom dice on the curb to stacking up chips, but harder\nFrom birds on my nerves to chicks on my DICK! Guard your\nWomen dawg I went from ashy to classy\nWent from a, kiss on the cheek to doing the nasty\nReach your hand up in the air and you can play with the stars\nIt's not the hand that you're dealt but how you're playing your cards\nBoy!\n"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsCall Ya Bluff Lyrics\nYeah, buddy! (Wooo!)\nWhat is it right now (Ah yeah, I know right?), Goddamn!\nMan, fuck them niggas!\nWhoever they said they was, it don't even matta, partna! (Yeah, fuck 'em!)\nThis the way we do, nigga (Ah huh!) The A in the buildin'!\nIt's whatever, they know where to find me at (Hmmm-hmmm!)\nThey know what's up (Right!), it's strictly business\nBeef, drama, whateva you wanna call it, nigga\nFuck 'em, we ball!\n\nYeah, anything you wanna do\nI'm ready to do it, my nigga, just say so (just say so)\nDon't say it on the record with your chest\nLeave the booth and then go lay low (\"okay guys, I'm goin' home\")\nHidin' behind your security detail\nActin' like a female\nI done sold over twenty million records\nI could really give a fuck about retail (history's been made)\nNow back to basics (basics)\nBack to Adidas with the fat laces (what up, Rev Run?)\nBack to the Ac,' where I'm ridin' to the track in the Jack\nGet it straight, nigga, no chasers (ah)\nAge ain't nothing but a number\nLuda rappin' like he just turned twenty-four (happy birthday)\nAny rapper wanna forget who I am\nEvery now and then I seem I gotta let em know (know)\nOh, must I remind ya?\nYou rap like somethin' behind ya (boo)\nGot paid but your heart pump Kool-Aid (yeah)\nCover Girl make up shoulda signed ya (hahaha)\nBut it's never too late (nope)\nFifteen years, nigga, never too great (nah)\nFour years off gettin' Hollywood checks\nBut you niggas want beef and you lookin' like steak\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nI see that liquor got you loose (got you loose) (got you loose)\nWhen you see me, nigga\nSay it like you said it in the booth (in the booth)\nI'll make you niggas lose a tooth (lose a tooth) (lose a tooth)\nWhen you see me, nigga\nSay it like you said it in the booth (in the booth)\nFuck y'all niggas, I'm the truth (I'm the truth) (I am the truth)\nWhen you see me, nigga\nSay it like you said it in the booth (in the booth)\nNow I'm like, fuck callin' a truce (callin' truce) (no truce)\nWhen you see me, nigga\nSay it like you said it in the booth\n\nHol' up\nNever fuck with a nigga who got some kids (no)\n'Cause when you talk about me then you talk about them\nThen I gotta come where you live (I'm on the way, nigga)\nYou takin' food out they mouth\nNow I gotta put a fist in yours (blah)\nI don't play about my hustle, a nigga got all these acres\nAll my neighbors think I'm flipping them birds (woo)\nNah, but I be flipping these words (yeah)\nAnything you hear me saying, I could back up (back it up)\nAnd you talk so tough on the mic\nBut whenever you in sight, nigga\nSomethin' don't add up (don't add up)\nPut your money where your mouth is (Yeah!), wait, put a gat where your blouse is\nYou think it's funny, cause it's sunny where your house is\nBitch, I'll put my muddy ass boots where your couch is\n(Fuck yo couch!)\nI live this shit, you know you do this just for show, nigga (Deja Vu!)\nYou act as if Ludacris just came and took your ho, nigga (Really!?)\nYou's a ho nigga (Whispers \"Ho nigga\"), yeah I said it twice\nLet this be warning number two, motherfucker go and roll the dice\nI see that liquor got you loose (got you loose) (got you loose)\nWhen you see me, nigga\nSay it like you said it in the booth (in the booth)\nI'll make you niggas lose a tooth (lose a tooth) (lose a tooth)\nWhen you see me, nigga\nSay it like you said it in the booth (in the booth)\nFuck y'all niggas, I'm the truth (I'm the truth) (I am the truth)\nWhen you see me, nigga\nSay it like you said it in the booth (in the booth)\nNow I'm like, fuck callin' a truce (callin' truce) (no truce)\nWhen you see me, nigga\nSay it like you said it in the booth\n\nI already know fake, nigga (Yeuh!), all gas, no brakes, nigga (Hahahaha!)\nAll that Simon Says shit, y'all got goin' on\nThat, \"Any-pat, pitta-pat\" elementary, school ass shit (Ah!)\nThe hell is you talkin' bout, nigga?"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsComing 2 America Lyrics\n\nThe royal penis is clean, your highness\n(Thank you, king shit)\n\nYeah, motherfuckers! Welcome to the United States of America! Time to roll out the red carpet on y'all bitch asses! Hailin from the filthy, dirty South, where the Kings lay: Ludacris; Disturbin' Tha Peace family. Recognize royalty when you hear it. The throne has been taken, so kiss this nigga's earring. Luda, throw some grapes on these peasants!\n\nThese bitches throwin' rose petals at my feet mayne!\nThey wanna spoil me, treatin' me like royalty;\nWhat I'm 'sposed to do? It's such a sweet thang\nWork that track, whip 'em like Kunta\nThat's why they stay down, they loyal citizens of Zamunda\nBy way of A-T-L; if you disagree\nDon't even look at me ho don't pass go just go straight to jail\nWith no probation or bail, but this ain't Monopoly\nIt's Jolly Green Giants cause we smoke so much broccoli\nUh-oh, Spaghetti-O's! Luda's oodles of noodles\nAnd testing me, is like pitbulls put up to poodles\nMy rap career goes back further than your father hairline\nIt's ludicrous - I pack more nuts than Delta Airlines\nI'm fly, even when I get high I work cash\nAnd even got my coach bumped up to first class\nI'm boss to all employees - and I'm here to teach the principle\nCause I've been saved by mo' bells than Lark Voorhies\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nMan fuck that nigga 'Cris man, for real man! I'm tired of this shit man! Man I try to rap for the nigga, I try to get on a nigga tracks; he ain't hearin my shit. Man, for real! Man my four-year-old son can rap better than that nigga; man that nigga garbage. Man I got talent too, the nigga ain't hearin me. Man iii-iiiis this shit on? 'Cris, c'mon 'Cris. 'Cris, f'real man. FUCK YOU NIGGA, MAN FUCK YOU!\n\nFuck you too! What you wanna do?!\nScrawny nigga, but I got a arsenal of automatics down to .22s\nKnow how to use 'em, fight dirty as SHIT\nI throw a grenade and all-in-one bury a CLIQUE\nYou see, y'all got it all wrong like women in tuxedos\nAnd comin' up shorter than five Danny DeVitos\nI'm on a cool ranch, get laid more than Fritos\nWith five strippers, four wives and three amigos\nI go scuba divin in Bays at Montego\nI find gold links and snatch 'em, like I'm Deebo\nBut I'm the light-skinte-ted version of Mandingo\nI've seen more Beatles and Jagged Edges than Ringo\nI used to run numbers in line they caled me BINGO\nCause I'm big, you a little star, you just twinkle\nOld asses like sharpeis, y'all all wrinkled\nAnd I stay with more BULLETS, than yo' Billboard singles\nHo, that is just too much! You just gotta give applause! He is definitely all f'real - yaseeI'msayin? Ha ha I be fuckin with him all the time, yahhmean? I'm sayin, I used to just serve homes herb, now how come through, he want 50's a purple. He want quarters a purple now. I want y'all to trip with it. Man, I done sold him a QP last week of the flava, yaseewhatI'msayin?\n\nYE-AH, can I get a little hit of that, little nigga with a bigga sack\nC.P. set a bigger trap look at that Godby Road and Old Nat\nWhere they kick it at? And a lot of people just don't know\nShady Park you heard just don't go\nQuick to flip the bird up po'-po'\nMakin the way for that rodeo, that rodeo show!\nGotta hit 'em with a reload, I gotta put 'em with the people\nI gotta make a nigga stop, drop, roll - oh no where the beat go?\nBring that, shit back, didn't wanna hear that, clik-clak\nTons of fun with guns\nFuck all the lil' chit-chat get back get that get that\nWho knows, who goes there? Motherfuckers it's Poppa Bear\nStop and stare; pourin out a lil' gasoline and then drop a flare\nI'm on, FIRE! And you know I can't stop 'til I re-TIRE!\nOh no, we stay swoll, rollin on Vogue TIRES!\nRight down the avenue, passin you rapidly stackin\nIn the back of the Cadillac and packin emergency action\nCamera, LIGHT LIGHTS!, throwin a punch and then FIGHT FIGHT!\nPackin a lunch and then BITE BITE!, A-T-L stay TIGHT TIGHT!\nI'm just tryin to save ya shorty! I'mma let you know it's real down heah! When you ride down that 285 and you go past Cascade, get ready to go past that Campbellton Road 'fore you get it to Camp Creek, shorty, just shake; 'cause dat where dem real niggas at! I ain't lyin when you in Decatur and you flossin down Glenwood, Candler Road or Rainbow nigga, shaaaaaake, 'cause dat where dem real niggas at! When you're goin down that Ol' Nat Hill and you pass dat second Waffle House 'fore you get to the rich niggas, shaaake; 'cause dat where dem real niggas at! Matter of fact, just shake when ya get to Georgia, nigga!"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsI Do It for Hip Hop Lyrics\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\n\nNow this is what they call poetry in motion\nMy soul bleeds on the paper, heart screams with emotion\nIt's my daily devotion, the verses stay deeper than the ocean\nSo hip-hop you owe me a promotion!\nYeah I do a little boastin and braggin\nWhat's all the commotion and naggin about? Cause I'm still the champ in the South?\nCause rappers get in the booth and I keep draggin em out?\nWell they're fired, and these pink slips, I'm handin em out\nCause this is \"Theater of the Mind,\" consider it a sign\nOf what's to come next, my money's just fine\nBank filled with dumb checks, terrorist threat flow\nProceed to drop bombs like Mr. Funk Flex\nBut I don't do it for the money, I do it from the heart\nI do it with the beat box, I did it from the start\nI do it for the dee jays, I do it for the charts\nThe Van Gogh flow, Luda do it cause it's art\nI do it for the fans, I do it on command\nI do it for the front row, I do it for the stands\nI spit it for the hood, I do it for the block\nAnd since nine years old I did it for hip-hop, so\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nI don't do it for them cars and the fancy drops\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nAnd I don't it for the chains and the flashin rocks\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\n\nUhh, uhh, uh\nThey say I'm so low key, I'm socially awkward\nOnly niggas who really know me, who I talk with\nThey smile in the light, hate in the dark\nYou call it beef, to me, it's just a fuckin walk in the park\nCause you are who you are when nobody's lookin\nThat's who you are, so when the cash and the cars is gone\nThe day after tomorrow, don't be askin to borrow\nSki mask it hard, like the way you rap in your bars\nI can ride on you and whoever, devise new endeavors\nI'm as live as a hive full of predators\nTwenty thousand different species of bees\nSome have poisonous stings, some just pollinate leaves\nIt's like rap, some just buzz, some will attack\nCompromise their own life in fact\nSixteen years since my first sixteen\nPardon the rest of my niggas... but I'm the best who ever did it!\nI don\u2019t do it for the cars and the fancy drops\nUh, I do it for hip-hop\nYeah, I do it for hip-hop\nUh, I do it for hip-hop\nAnd I don\u2019t do for the chains and the flashin\u2019 rocks\nWhy we do it kid? I do it for hip-hop\nYeah, I do it for hip-hop\nUh, I do it for hip-hop\nHip-hop, started out in the park\nWe used to do it to avoid the Narcs\nI used to do it so the homeboy Clark\nCan get the fuck off my back while I knocked off these packs\nI used to rap to impress my friends\nTo pass the time while I was gettin' it in\nJust so happens, I'm so illegal with the pen\nThey ain't want me doin' anything illegal again\nI lost a lot of dogs to these streets\nI got Grammy Awards on these beats\nThank God for Kool Herc\nWithout your shit I probably would've got murked\nShout out to Grandmaster Flash and to Caz\nAnd even Jaz bum-ass\nHip-hop helped me wash my rocks\nThese other rappers couldn't wash my socks\nThat's why I took the number one slot\nThe realest shit in rap comes from my voice box\nLord knows when I was on my clock\nI prolly never woulda stopped, thank God for hip-hop\nI don\u2019t do for the cars and the fancy drops\nUh, I do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nAnd I don\u2019t do for the chains and the flashin\u2019 rocks\nCome on, I do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\n{*DJ scratches and Ludacris ad-libs until 4:56*}\n\nI don't do it for them cars and the fancy drops\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nAnd I don't it for the chains and the flashin rocks\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop\nI do it for hip-hop"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsBurning Bridges Lyrics\nWhen all your love is lost\nAnd burning bridges can't be crossed\nLord won't you let me know\nOr give me one more reason to go\nWhen all your love is lost\nAnd burning bridges can't be crossed\nLord won't you let me know\nOr give me one more reason to go\n\nI done took all I could take from you\nNeed a little bit more than a break from you\nMatter of fact fuck you, don't need you in my life\nYou done did so much wrong I hope you get it right\nBut not at my expense, I did all I could do\nYou just took me for granted, you thought I was a fool\nWhen I did everything in my power to help and please you\nBut I don't know you no more, fuck it, I caught amnesia\nToo many emotions I try to bury\nBut the higher I climb, the less weight I'm trying to carry\nDem niggas holdin' on for dear life, bringin' me drama\nBut I'm only responsible for my daughters Cai and Karma\nNigga you's a grown man, get yourself together\nForget about the past, now's a better time than never\nMatter of fact, It's time to start making better decisions\nSo put your fires out, and stop burning 'Cris' bridges\nYou little bitches\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nWhen all your love is lost\nAnd burning bridges can't be crossed\nLord won't you let me know\nOr give me one more reason to go\n\nYeah, this industry's full of bullshitters\nAnd all this time you thought you had me fooled niggas\nIn my ferrari partner thought he saw a spaceship\nCos I move in speed not to get caught up in this fake shit\nSmiling in my face when I'm around y'all\nBut soon as I leave, niggas be prayin' on my down fall\nIs it cause you'll never sell as many records?\nMy bitches always look better, you fail at business endeavours?\nOr that people thought you were clever, but now they know you stupid?\nAnd misery loves company now that you're going through it?\nSomebody tell these rappers I walk hard in these Louis\nSo get out of here, you don't want no part of this shit, Dewey\nI see them drugs got y'all trippin' too soon\nThat's why you find me in the club, every once in a blue moon\nSo while you contemplate making your first million\nI'll be somewhere contemplating on making my first billion\nAnd then, trillion\n\nWhen all your love is lost\nAnd burning bridges can't be crossed\nLord won't you let me know\nOr give me one more reason to go\nThe biggest mistake we make as individuals\nIs thinking everyone lives by the same principles\nBut when I talk by the same teachers and principals\nFor you to know it's not the money, it's the principle\nSo I can't expect you to know what I'm talkin' 'bout\nOur issues are deep within, we can't just talk 'em out\nNiggas is fighting inside, we can't just walk 'em out\nThese bridges burning so fast, we can't just stomp 'em out\nAs if you know what I'm talkin' 'bout\n\nWhen all your love is lost\nAnd burning bridges can't be crossed\nLord won't you let me know\nOr give me one more reason to go"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsLudaversal Intro Lyrics\nDavid Banner nig-\nMic check, 1 2\nI'm just going to get right to it\nLuda!\n\nAin't nobody fuckin' with me when it come to getting lyrical\nMurdering the rapper and killing beats nigga\nI'm cinematic making everybody panic\nI be bustin' like a fully automatic feel the heat nigga!\nWe can battle in the Phantom in Atlanta the rover in Minnesota or the Arizona streets nigga\nThey sayin' all these offensive lines I snapback it's the quarterback sneak nigga!\nOne time for the sneak dissers Ol' puss ass fuckboys say my name!\nAnybody coming at me know I never back down killing a rapper is my claim to fame!\nYou lame\nAnd my flow is what expose in these hoes even on a nigga worst day\nThey say Luda don't want it no mo'\nNo nigga I'm as hungry as the first day\nWhat you want how you want it you can get I'm the definition of a real g from the south side\nThe crime scene be the studio get the yellow tape and the chalk and I'm leaving everybody outline\nI'm all about mine\nGetting paid getting laid getting clothes getting hoes getting green back\nUsed be like everybody is a lil kid now Big Boy,  outcast like three stacks\nLaying all it in the Cadillac with a red bone giving me dome my music on with the seats back\nLudacris this is album number 8 and my pockets gonna be straight\nEven if a nigga leak that\nTimmy all up on the David Banner track with Janet Jack in the back like \"Damn Luda freak that!\"\nBreak it down like you dropping to the ground but we like the 808 in Atlanta so bring the beat back\nSample had to eat that\nCouldn't control alt or delete that\nBut put any other rapper on the track and I guarantee they'll never know how to treat that\nI'm a boss I'm a king I'm a legend Imma drill it in your head till you doze off\nAnd I just so happen to be the type of rapper that make your women want to take her clothes off\nSo let's get to the action\nLet's get to the show\nI'm been getting to the Forbes list six year straight let's get to the do'\nShout out to the Luda Nation\nAll my fans just got live\nAnd they waitin' for everybody to put me in the rapper category of ya top five\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nLet me get it back\n\nEver since I\nCame in the game it ain't never been the same\nCan't nobody do it like me\nIs it ever gonna be another Luda you know that'll never happen that's highly unlikely\nKnowing that I'm better than everybody you put me up against I'm in the hall of fame\nSo fuck call to call we can go bar for bar I'll put your name up on the wall of shame\nAnd everyday is the same thing\nLooking for another way for me to make paper\nI think it's time for every single rapper to go to church\nWhoever is my opponent you better pray first\nThey like \"Luda why you rapping so fast?\"\nI'm like \"Bitch why you listen too slow?\"\nI'm the truth in the booth and they can't keep up hardly cause I always hit em with a new flow\nAnd the two door with the coup low with the Hublot off the window with the two low blades from the top like judo listening to bruno on the way to school though getting kudos from a few hoes and they from the choose though\nCuz I'm numero uno and the crew know it's a couple loop holes when it come to fluke hoes cuz some of they pussy bite like Cujo\nBut back to the you know who\nI can't stop till you tell me I'm the greatest\nIf you need a reminder then put the whole song on repeat and continue to play this\nBetter turn your stereo louder\nListen up and let me preach\nAnd let's get arrested for disturbing the peace\n"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsFreaky Thangs Lyrics\nIt's two a.m. in the morning and its uhh\nLight showers and you're probably hookin up with that girl\nThat's been, two-wayin you all week\nHer baby daddy's out of town so uhh, you can fuck around\nIt's okay to check in that Motel 6\n$59.95, not a cent more for that dirty-ass ho, yeah\nStop by that convenience store and pick up them rubbers--Magnum, I hope\nThis is Faizon Love and uhh, I love hoes\nI just don't pay 'em\n\nCut up! Know we like that, get that cut up\nFreaky thangs, we be bout 'em\nGet that cut up! Oh-whooooooo, cut up\nFreaky thangs, we be bout 'em\n\nI'm kinda hopin that maybe you wanna kick it in the L.A.C\nSo later on we'll be rollin'\nDrop tops, I'm hittin' yo' hot spots, I'm top notch\nMy niggas never listen but I told 'em\nWhen I catch you at the game runnin game at the A.U.C\nThen later on we'd be bonin'\nFat cats, I'm ready to tap that, so back that\nNo wonder why you wakin' up swollen\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nI'm feelin you Luda', smokin my buddha, coochie recruiter\nComin at the fatty in a platinum Caddy so back it up fast\nHit it a hour and a half, watch the spectacular splash\nOn the back and leave it drippin down the crack of her ass\nCall me Mr. Magilla-cutty, chasin' booty soft as silly putty\nKilla for money, still a thug get bump\nFrom slow pokin, to locomotion, hittin bunnies, for threesomes getcha buddy\nWhen I'm feelin scummy I love to cut\n\nThick skin so, butter soft I'm rippin the buttons off yo' blouse\nSmell the aroma of a dingaling king Ludacris when I'm in yo' house\nCheck the ratio of men to women and women to men when down south\nHot fellatio, hot jalapenos, holla while they in yo' mouth\nSo we love that c-c-c-c\n\nCut up! Know we like that, get that cut up\nFreaky thangs, we be bout 'em\nGet that cut up! Oh-whooooooo, cut up\nFreaky thangs, we be bout 'em\n\nNow I got the feelin' we can cut the hell out each other\nAnd I hope we be the same thang (freaks)\nWe can get the mattress goin 'eh-err, eh-err'\nHandlin' business while I bang bang (skeet)\nWash the dick off and kick off another session again\nI can break 'em off in the shower, kitchen floor or the outdoors\nThe pieces from the East is the shit\nAnd the flesh in the West is the best\nBut Twista love them Chicago and South hoes\nCome up out yo' negligee, freak 'em on a regular day\nCum six times, but it's seven today\nLudacris in the back of your Cheverolet\nAhh, ahh! What's my name?\nSo magical I come and touch the game\nYou motherfuckers really lust to gain\nNothin' but hatin and a look of disgust\nAlways a must, stay \"Adrenaline Rush\"\nWonderin why they don't be bustin' the same\n\nI'm clutchin my thang, stuffin in it\nStrokin it down, beat the stuff up\nUh-uh shorty, don't run from it\nShe give me the booty I'm breakin' it off\nI can tell her style by the way that she walks\nFatty flickin' like it was dubs on it\nPeep how this player got skills, get 'em out the gator high heels\nPullin' rubbers and swishers up out your Prada bag\nWanna smoke 'dro I got a bag, take a proper drag before I tap it\nI love the chicks that got a lotta ass, so we love that c-c-c-c\n\nCut up! Know we like that, get that cut up\nFreaky thangs, we be bout 'em\nGet that cut up! Oh-whooooooo, cut up\nFreaky thangs, we be bout 'em\nBubble, bubble, bubbles is in the bathtub\nMakin' you stutter from the b-body butters and backrubs\nIt's killin me thinkin about the bottles that pop\nThe models that swallow willin', up under my pillow stayin strapped up\nIf it tickles in the middle from Mr. Pickles you try to escape\nSo give me the rope you gettin' wrapped up\nRooty tooty so fruity and fresh, I'm fresh and fruity\nYa duty's to figure the booty's gettin slapped up\n\nI love them chicks that be thick as a loaf of bread\nLong as I can still grab her legs, and push 'em up by her head\nHow I dip up in it we can make a video\nBut I got the radio bumpin Jagged Edge by the bed\nWhen you wanna get up witcha cutty buddy\nCome on and dip off through the hideout with Twist'\nBut after we do what we gon' do get ya purse and get together\nBecause now you gots to ride out, bitch\n\nOh 'Cris, can you do it again, that's what they askin' me\nHit skins, causin' catastrophes\nGet pinned, by me and my family\nSip gin, fulfillin' your fantasies\nIn your condition I'm wishin you'll take a lickin'\nAnd keep on tickin' from thicker thighs\nFinger lickin' never get sick and tired, just take a look in her eyes\nAnd you can tell she's a figure five, so we love that c-c-c-c\n\nCut up! Know we like that, get that cut up\nFreaky thangs, we be bout 'em\nGet that cut up! Oh-whooooooo, cut up\nFreaky thangs, we be bout 'em\n\nCut up, gettin brains, in the Range\nWe love to cut up cause we like them freaky thangs\nI like it when you let me try, anythang\nCause girl I ain't got nothin but time\nLet a nigga get a little cut up girl\nCut up, gettin brains, in the Range\nWe love to cut up cause we like them freaky thangs\nI like it when you let me try, anythang\nCause girl I ain't got nothin but time\nLet a nigga get a little cut up girl\n\nI come from the eighth planet in the 19th galaxy\nWhere the royal penis is clean, yo' majesty\nCan it be, Sheila E, Apollonia, Vanity, all mad at me?\nI'm the Prince dick of insanity\nI'm good lovin, body-rockin\nKnockin boots all night long, we not stoppin\nI don't care if the kids watchin\nI stir it like motherfuckin coffee and brown sugar\nGirls dem sugar\nWorld class lover, Kama sutra\nPorno music producer\nTallywhacker is a rock hard stormtrooper\nWith a purple helmet, made for crushin pink cookies\nGoonie goo-goo, we cut bigfoots and wookies\nAnd fat women, because they need love too\nSo go on big girl, whatchu gon' do?"}
{"text":"8 ContributorsNasty Girl Lyrics\nA lady in the street but a freak in the bed\nLady in the street but a freak in the bed...\nLady in the street but a freak in the bed\nLady in the street but a freak in the bed\n\nSee she makes her own money, pays her own bills\nAlways stays fly, keeps it so real\nBut behind closed do's she a nasty girl (yup)\nBehind closed do's she a nasty girl\nShe got a crazy little figure, nice round ass\nWalks so proper, talks with such class\nBut behind closed do's she a nasty girl (yup)\nBehind closed do's she a nasty girl\n\nYeah, I met this girl named Keisha, she was so sweet (yup)\nNails stay manicured, pretty little feet (woo!)\nShoes so sexy, body so hot\nHair lookin like she just came from the shop\nLegs so smooth, clothes so tight\nStyle so sexy, makeup just right\nNever too much, never too little\nBlack lace bra, Vickie Secrets in the middle\nEyes so innocent, smile so bright\nWorks in the mornin but she'll party all night\nAll for her man, all cause she bout it\nAll cause she crazy in love and don't doubt it\nProduct of her birthplace, know about the streets\nClean in the workplace, dirty in the sheets\nKeeps her own toaster, makes her own bread\nLady in the STREET but a freak in the bed, cause\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\n\nOkay, okay, haha\nI got a college girl who go to church e'ry Sunday\nHad her sneak out of choir rehearsal to put it on me\nBut she's so innocent, when she ridin, mami\nOne thing about her, she get her own money\nGave it to her yesterday while she was doin laundry\nFavorite chore of mine, it's my lil' bunny\nBow-legged and glasses, such a real woman\nSex all night, go to work e'ry mornin\nText me from work and told me she was horny\nText her back and told her, \"Me too mami\"\nWhen you get off work, daddy gon' punish\nYou my nasty girl forever I promise\n\n\nI got a doctor girlfriend that tells me, \"Come home soon!\"\nShe plays like my house is her emergency room\nTells me to undress and to lay on the sofa\nChecks all my vitals like a doc's supposed ta\nAll white coat, all white heels\nAnd nothin underneath so it's an all night deal\nI'm her number one patient and delighted to be\nAnd when she needs her medicine I give her vitamin D\nBut wait! I got a lawyer girl that's so wild\nAnd every single night she wanna take me to trial\nSaid she needs some evidence, and to show her the PROOF\nSo I put her on the stand and I give her the truth!\nCause I'm hung like a jury (jury)\nJudge Luda preside over your body and I'm never in a hurry\nYou may proceed, let the games begin\nAnd if I call a mistrial we gotta do it again\nEmbed"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsGeorgia Lyrics\nGeorgia, Georgia\nGeorgia, Georgia\n\nWe on the grind in (Georgia) all the time\nIt ain't nothin' on my mind but (Georgia) we ain't playin' with ya\nWe on the grind in (Georgia) all the time\nIt ain't nothin' on my mind but (Georgia) we ain't playin' with ya\n\nCountry names, country slang, fiends at the liquor sto'\nBlack cruisin', craps shootin', fifty on the ten-to-four\nOvercast, the forecast shows clouds from plenty dro\nAnd we ready for war in the state of (Georgia!)\nYeah, dirty words, dirty birds, it's mean in the Dirty South\nIf you ever disrespect it, then we'll clean out ya dirty mouth\nBulldogs clockin', these lookout boys is hawkin'\nYou gotta be brave in the state of (Georgia!)\nI got five Georgia homes where I rest my Georgia bones\nCome anywhere on my land and I'll aim at ya Georgia dome\nIf you get into an altercation, just hop on ya mobile phone\nAnd tell somebody you need help in the middle of (Georgia!)\nWe some ATL thrashers, scope ya punk and then smash ya\nWe'll come through ya hood worse than a tsunami disaster\nDon't know who they gonna get or who them robbers gonna hit\nThat's why I keep my Georgia TEC in the state of (Georgia!)\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nWe on the grind in (Georgia) all the time\nIt ain't nothin' on my mind but (Georgia) we ain't playin' with ya\nWe on the grind in (Georgia) all the time\nIt ain't nothin' on my mind but (Georgia) we ain't playin' with ya\n\nI'm from the home of neckbones\nBlack eyed peas, turnip and collard greens\nWe the children of the corn, dirtier than Bob Marley's pee-pee\nGA, the Peach State, where we stay\nMy small city's called Albany (Georgia!)\nHahaha, pecan country like catfish with grits\nCandy yams and chitlins, grandma's homemade baked biscuits\nThe land of classical Caprices and Impalas and Super Sports\nIngredients in this peach cobbler called Georgia (Georgia! Hahaha)\nI love the women out in L.A. and the shoppin' stores in New York\nThe beaches in M.I.A but ain't nothin' like that GA red clay\nLook on ya map, we right above Florida, next to 'Bama\nUnder that Carolina to Tennessee, you'll see (Georgia! Hahaha)\nWhere Gladys Knight took the midnight train\nThe birthplace of Martin Luther King\nWhere ass so plump and hips are thick\nWhere 'Llac trucks sittin' on twenty-sixes\nKnow where you goin' or you'll be lost\nFound in these plumb trees in the South\nThese choppers'll tomahawk your top down here in (Georgia!)\nHahaha\nWe on the grind in (Georgia) all the time\nIt ain't nothin' on my mind but (Georgia) we ain't playin' with ya\nWe on the grind in (Georgia) all the time\nIt ain't nothin' on my mind but (Georgia) we ain't playin' with ya\n\nNow I was born in the belly on the bottom of the map\nWhere the wet paint drip jelly on Pirellis\nAnd the chrome on the Chevys when I'm choppin' in the trap\nCountry as hell, they some warriors\nTote somethin' that spray same shape as Florida\nLookin' for me boy, you'll find me\nDown in Dougherty County in a small city\nCalled Albany, Georgia (Georgia!)\nWhere they used to call us some bamas\nAnd now they jockin the grammar\nWatch your mouth 'less you out for some manner\nBut ya hustlers wasn't on every corner\nLike the Waffle House in Atlanta\nR.I.P Camoflauge out in Savannah (Georgia!)\nNow you might come for vacation, leave on probation\nHome of the strip club, known for the thick girls\nWhere the tricks put tips in the tip cup\nFor the thick chick in the thong with the big butt\nWanna get love? Won't be cheap, long money like Peachtree\nMan, she take it off like Freaknik down here in (Georgia!)\nWhen you see them confederate flags, you know what is\nYo' folks picked cotton here, that's why we call it the field\nI got a Chevrolet on twenty-sixes\nI'm from GA, GA! (Georgia!)\nWe on the grind in (Georgia) all the time\nIt ain't nothin' on my mind but (Georgia) we ain't playin' with ya\nWe on the grind in (Georgia) all the time\nIt ain't nothin' on my mind but (Georgia) we ain't playin' with ya\n\nGeorgia, Georgia\nGeorgia, Georgia\nGeorgia!"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsSaturday (Oooh! Oooh!) Lyrics\nOooh-Oooh!\nOooh-Oooh!\nOooh-Oooh!\nOooh-Oooh!\n + (Sleepy Brown)\nI gotta big weed stash, pocket full of cash\nJust seen a big ol' ass (It's Saturday!)\nSticky, icky, icky\nSticky, icky, icky, icky\nSystem on blast, cops just passed\nJust seen a big ol' ass (It's Saturday!)\nSticky, icky, icky (Oooh-Oooh!)\nSticky, icky, icky, icky (Oooh-Oooh!)\n\nGrease don't pop on the stove no more\nMoved on up\nDouble shot Hennessey fill my cup\nLuda choke smoke in a big black truck\nShould I wild out? (WHAT THE FUCK?!)\nAct like my rims ain't clean\nHow you gonna act like my neck don't bling?\nHaters get sprayed like Afro-Sheen\nBut they don't ever really wanna pop them thangs\nCane, cane sugar man, Luda don't go\nAnd I stop at a light, pulled up so slow\nBut I'm out for the night, so pass that 'dro\nSo daddy come home in a Cadillac brome (Cadillac brome?)\nNow, don't it sound absurd?\nClaim College Park where they flip them birds\nTrick car alarms, then bend them curves\nChop chop, chunk it up, fat man herb\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like + (Sleepy Brown)\nI gotta big weed stash, pocket full of cash\nJust seen a big ol' ass (It's Saturday!)\nSticky, icky, icky\nSticky, icky, icky, icky\nSystem on blast, cops just passed\nJust seen a big ol' ass (It's Saturday!)\nSticky, icky, icky (Oooh-Oooh!)\nSticky, icky, icky, icky (Oooh-Oooh!)\n\nIt's illegal but the plants in my backyard grow\nThat's my bud\nSmoke 'til ya drop out, that's my luck\nKeep a couple rolled and I hit the club\nIn the back door (NIGGA WHAT?!)\nAct like I don't make clouds\nHow you gonna act like I don't get loud?\nHow you gonna act like I don't rock crowds?\nAnd leave a lot of people with a gap-tooth smile\nIf I recollect right then you sound like dirt\nBut I guess what you don't really know don't hurt\nWith a vest and a pump, hear the shotgun squirt\nMy folks on the block, man, they got that work (They got that work?)\nDon't it smell so good?\nIn Southwest where they rep that hood\nProtect your chest, they up to no good\nAnd come through flossin', they wish y'all would\n + (Sleepy Brown)\nI gotta big weed stash, pocket full of cash\nJust seen a big ol' ass (It's Saturday!)\nSticky, icky, icky\nSticky, icky, icky, icky\nSystem on blast, cops just passed\nJust seen a big ol' ass (It's Saturday!)\nSticky, icky, icky (Oooh-Oooh!)\nSticky, icky, icky, icky (Oooh-Oooh!)\n\nWorldwide hustlers get that dough\nWork that tip\nGet rid of evidence, move that brick\nKeep a D-Eagle with an extra clip\nThink it ain't so? (SUCK A DICK!)\nAct like I just do rap\nHow you gonna act like I just ain't strapped?\nHow you gon' act like I don't push 'Lacs?\nBlack El-Dorado, fifth wheel on back\nItchy finger trigger, man, Luda don't squeeze\nWith a mac, with a Glock, I'mma make 'em say please\nIn the back, on the block so the cops say \"freeze\"\nAnd I'm so high, I think I got a nose bleed (You got a nose bleed?)\nDon't it smell so sweet?\nIn Decatur, where we pack that heat\nAnd rob neighbors in the night, creep, creep\nI'll see you later when we in them streets\n + (Sleepy Brown)\nI gotta big weed stash, pocket full of cash\nJust seen a big ol' ass (It's Saturday!)\nSticky, icky, icky\nSticky, icky, icky, icky\nSystem on blast, cops just passed\nJust seen a big ol' ass (It's Saturday!)\nSticky, icky, icky (Oooh-Oooh!)\nSticky, icky, icky, icky (Oooh-Oooh!)"}
{"text":"19 ContributorsSplash Waterfalls Lyrics + (Sandy Coffee)\nOhhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Say it (make love to me)\nOhhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! What? (fuck, meee!)\nOhhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! Say it (make love to me)\nOhhhh! Ohhhh! Ohhhh! What? (fuck, meee!)\n\nI'm bout to throw some game, they both one and the same\nCupid's the one to blame - say it (make love to me)\nI'm bout to shed some light, cause each and every night\nYou gotta do it right - what? (fuck, meee!)\nI'm bout to throw some game, they both one and the same\nCupid's the one to blame - say it (make love to me)\nI'm bout to shed some light, cause each and every night\nYou gotta do it right - what? (fuck, meee!)\nThey want it nice and slow, kiss 'em from head to toe\nRelax and let it go - say it (make love to me)\nThey want it now and fast, grabbin and smackin ass\nYou gotta make it last - what? (fuck, meee!)\nTogether holdin hands, you out there spendin grands\nAnd makin family plans - say it (make love to me)\nDon't have to straighten facts, don't want no strings attached\nJust scratches on your BACK - what? (fuck, meee!)\nEx's ain't actin right, and you so glad to fight\nDinner's by candlelight - say it (make love to me)\nShe got a nigga whipped, down to ya fingertips\nTryin that freaky shit - what? (fuck, meee!)\nTurn on some Babyface, just for your lady's sake\nYou call her babycakes - say it (make love to me)\nKnow how to mack a broad, she's on your sack and balls\nYou call her Jabberjaws - what? (fuck, meee!)\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nI'm bout to throw some game, they both one and the same\nCupid's the one to blame - say it (make love to me)\nI'm bout to shed some light, cause each and every night\nYou gotta do it right - what? (fuck, meee!)\nI'm bout to throw some game, they both one and the same\nCupid's the one to blame - say it (make love to me)\nI'm bout to shed some light, cause each and every night\nYou gotta do it right - what? (fuck, meee!)\n\nYou bout to buy a ring, she needs the finer things\nGucci designer frames - say it (make love to me)\nPurchase a nasty flick, wrap up and tie her quick\nKnow how to drive a stick - what? (fuck, meee!)\nYou both unite as one, you the moon and she's your sun\nYour heart's a beating drum - say it (make love to me)\nYou better not have came, she want to feel the pain\nThen hear her scream your name - what? (fuck, meee!)\nFollow this DICK-tionary, you're both some visionaries\nAnd do it missionary - say it (make love to me)\nI hear 'em call da wild, and do it all the while\nDoggy and FROGGY style - what? (fuck, meee!)\nYou in between the sheets, lickin and eatin sweets\nAnd what you find you keep - say it (make love to me)\nYou do it standin up, orgasms hand 'em up\nY'all just don't GIVE A FUCK - what? (fuck, meee!)\nI'm bout to throw some game, they both one and the same\nCupid's the one to blame - say it (make love to me)\nI'm bout to shed some light, cause each and every night\nYou gotta do it right - what? (fuck, meee!)\nI'm bout to throw some game, they both one and the same\nCupid's the one to blame - say it (make love to me)\nI'm bout to shed some light, cause each and every night\nYou gotta do it right - what? (fuck, meee!)\n\nYou wanna tell the world, cause she's your favorite girl\nYour diamond and your pearl - say it (make love to me)\nNobody has to know, just keep it on the low\nAnd meet 'em right at fo' - what? (fuck, meee!)\nNothin but fights and fussin, plus there's a lot of cussin\nJust grab ahold of SOMETHIN - say it (make love to me)\nY'all do that BAD stuff, she like it rammed up\nRopes and HANDCUFFS - what? (fuck, meee!)\n"}
{"text":"25 ContributorsGrass Is Always Greener Lyrics\nYeah\nDid some movies and started missing this rap shit\nBack to rap and starting missing them movies\nLeft these hoes to settle down with just one chick\nGet with one chick started missing them groupies\nStop drinking for a year and I was all sober\nNext year I got drunk and did it all over\nYesterday I quit smoking and swore I had enough\nTill I smelt it in the club and had to take a puff\nI got rich and learned life was a bitch\nNow everybody's after all of my ends\n(Get yo hand out my pocket!)\nWhen I was broke all love from my folks\nBut nowadays I'm losing all of my friends let the story begin\n\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nAlways searching for another high\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nCaterpillar to a butterfly\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nAlways searching for another high\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nCaterpillar to a butterfly\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also likeBye bye butterfly\nFly away\nBye bye butterfly\nFly away\n\nYeah\nStart exercising and winning got me a six pack\nWas eating healthy and did away with the junk\nThen I got lazy and started to wanna kick back\nMy six pack reverted back to a gut\nWhen I'm at the crib I'm mad I'm not at the club lit\nWhen I'm at the club I'm mad I'm not at the crib\nI used to be out partying every damn night\nNow sometimes I'd rather be with my kids\nI got checks gained a lot of respect now everywhere I go they holla my name (Luda!)\nBut sometimes wish that I was disguised for peace of mind over fortune and fame\nGuess what I'm really saying is\n\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nAlways searching for another high\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nCaterpillar to a butterfly\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nAlways searching for another high\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nCaterpillar to a butterfly\nBye bye butterfly\nFly away\nBye bye butterfly\nFly away\n\nYeah\nLast year got the Ferrari that I always wanted\nDrove it crazy got sick of it had to trade (Give me my Ac'!)\nAll my fans convinced me to grow my hair back\nGrew it back then started missing my fade\nI got hits start trippin' I wasn't underground\nGot underground start trippin' I need hits (We outta here!)\nWhen you down and people give you the runaround\nBut feels great to know who really gives a shit\nYou cut the grass and the snakes will show\nAnd know your neighbor's fertilizer is fake (Don't let it fool ya!)\nWe always searching for what we never had\nAlways ignoring what's in front of our face\nWe've been conditioned to think\n\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nAlways searching for another high\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nCaterpillar to a butterfly\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nAlways searching for another high\nThe grass is always greener on the other side\nCaterpillar to a butterfly\nBye bye butterfly\nFly away\nBye bye butterfly\nFly away"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsThe Potion Lyrics\nWhattup? Hey shawty, what it is?\nWhattup? Hey shawty, what it is?\nWhattup? Hey shawty, what it is?\n\nLil' buddy what you want? Some violent shit!\nTwo-step and lay back, still wilin' shit\nWhattup? Hey baby, I got the potion\nTake a sip of this and put your back in motion\nLil' buddy what you want? Some violent shit!\nTwo step and lay back, still wilin' shit\nWhattup? Hey baby, I got the potion\nTake a sip of this and put your back in motion\n\nMan I'm like a needle in a haystack, so face that\nGo back to the drawing board, connect dots, but can't trace that\nMatter fact, erase that, 'cause on this great track\nGet your face slapped, and I'm straight so don't take that\nTry somethin' different and shit, so listen and shit\nSpeakin' about what hip-hop is missin and shit\nI'm about to fill a void, Ludacris born in Illinois\nRaised in Atlanta, tote hammer since I was a little boy\nAin't nobody like me, so they wanna bite me\nFight me, step to me now but it ain't likely\nPeople swear they sight me, just cause he's light-skinned\nWith braids in his hair don't mean that nigga looks like me\nTrick get your mind right, livin' in the limelight\nSo picture what they'll do for my jimmy and a Klondike\nBar, bar, hardy-har\nTell yo' momma I'm a ghet-to su-per-star\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nLil' buddy what you want? Some violent shit!\nTwo-step and lay back, still wilin' shit\nWhattup? Hey baby, I got the potion\nTake a sip of this and put your back in motion\nLil' buddy what you want? Some violent shit!\nTwo step and lay back, still wilin' shit\nWhattup? Hey baby, I got the potion\nTake a sip of this and put your back in motion\n\nOnly standin' five eight but still a big shot, plus I got a big\nClean everyday, stay fresher than what's in a Ziploc\nTell your man to kick rocks, when I make my pitstops\nI'm in, then it's hard to get me out like I'm a slip knot\nBorn to be a leader and not, no not a follower\nOnly hang with chicks that got mo' twists than Oliver\nNot much of a hollerer, but I'd like to borrow her lips\nBringin out the best in me 'specially if she a swallower\nFreaky deaky yellow man, and I'm sayin hello man\nTo all the lovely ladies that like to jiggle like Jello man\nBigger booty, small waist, put 'em in a small place\nAnd if it ain't no ass where I'm at, then I'm in the wrong place\nBail like a bondsman, but keep 'em dancin'\nGot pop potential, stay black like Bob Johnson\nWho the hell is that in that fancy car?\nTell yo' momma I'm a ghet-to su-per-star\nLil' buddy what you want? Some violent shit!\nTwo-step and lay back, still wilin' shit\nWhattup? Hey baby, I got the potion\nTake a sip of this and put your back in motion\nLil' buddy what you want? Some violent shit!\nTwo step and lay back, still wilin' shit\nWhattup? Hey baby, I got the potion\nTake a sip of this and put your back in motion\n\nAnd jump down turn around, pick a bale of cotton\nJump down turn around, pick a bale of hay\nOh lordy, pick a bale of cotton\nOh lordy, pick a bale of hay\nJump down turn around, pick a bale of cotton\nJump down turn around, pick a bale of hay\nOh lordy, pick a bale of cotton\nOh lordy, pick a bale of hay\n\nStill working like a slave, learning tricks of the trade\nIn a ghetto state of mind, say I'm rich and I'm paid\nPickin' records like cotton in the thick of the day\nTill I'm spoiled and I'm rotten in a sinister way\nLife no different than those on minimum wage\nMore money but still locked in a similar cage\nEither losers of tomorrow or we winners today\nDigest that and there's really nothin' missin' to say but\nLil' buddy what you want? Some violent shit!\nTwo-step and lay back, still wilin' shit\nWhattup? Hey baby, I got the potion\nTake a sip of this and put your back in motion\nLil' buddy what you want? Some violent shit!\nTwo step and lay back, still wilin' shit\nWhattup? Hey baby, I got the potion\nTake a sip of this and put your back in motion"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsOne More Drink Lyrics\nIt was Friday night and I was feeling aight (Yup!)\nDowntown Atlanta, big city, bright lights\nMixing Henny with the Sprite while I'm drinking and driving\nNo police lights (Lights), no police sirens\nI'm headed to the club, looking for a freak (Freak)\nTo spread a little love, and spread a couple cheeks (Cheeks)\nPull up to the spot 26's like BAM!\nEyes on me like, \"Bitch, do you see him?\"\nStrolled through the front door, headed to the VIP (VIP)\nBought a couple bottles and I took a couple sips (Sips)\nScoping out the room, and what do I see?\nA nice round butt, and a pair of double-Ds\nSo I crept up, like, \"Shawty, what's hatnin'?\"\nYou killing that dress and I love it with a passion\"\nThen she turned around and her face was aight\nShe had a gap tooth and a mean overbite\nBut I was like, \"Hmm...\"\n\nYeah, yeah\nIf I take one more drink (Drink)\nI'm gon' end up fucking you\nIs that what you wanna do, shawty?\nIf I take one more drink\nI'm gon' end up fucking you\nYou too, ooh, ooh, ooooh\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nWoke up the next morning and all I can remember (What?)\nWas taking shots and tippin the bartender\nSurrendered to the woman, end up bringing me home\n'Cause she started looking better every shot of Patr\u00f3n, yup!\nI jumped up with a devilish grin\n'Cause tonight, damn right I might do it again\nSo I called up the homies (What up?) Let's ride\nWe can hit the sports bar over on the south side (Aight)\nGet a couple of Coronas, couple of limes (Yup)\nWent up to the bar and saw a couple of dimes (Woo!)\nSo I, slowly walked up and said, \"Hi!\nMy name's Ludacris and I'm a hell of a guy\nOne said \"I know who you are, I'm your number-one fan\" (Woo!)\n\"And right now, it's too bad I got a man\"\nAnd I said, \"I understand\" (I understand)\n\"But where the hell is he at?\n'Cause in a minute, if he don't show up, then man...\n\nYeah, yeah\nIf I take one more drink (Drink)\nI'm gon' end up fucking you\nIs that what you wanna do, shawty?\nIf I take one more drink\nI'm gon' end up fucking you (Uh-huh)\nYou too, ooh, ooh, ooooh\nAyy, Pain, holla at 'em right quick, man\nYeah, you gon' get in trouble with yo' man, girl\nDon't get in trouble, girl!\nTalking 'bout how you're my biggest fan, girl\nI know it! I know it!\nNow I don't wanna do (Please!)\nWhat you gon' make me do\nDon't make me do it! Don't make me do it!\nBut I-I...\nIf I have one more drink\u2014\n\n\u2014I'ma get ya home, then I'll split ya\nGrab the cameraphone and take a bunch of drunk pictures\n'Cause Hennessy mixed with a whole bunch of buddah (Yup!)\nEquals you mixed with a whole bunch of Luda (Haha!)\nAnd you know how far one drink could go\nStart slurring my speech, slowing up the flow\nHiking up your skirts, climbing up your shirts\nIt's Mr. Late Night Luda, and I like to flirt\nSo guess what, baby girl!\n\nYeah, yeah\nIf I take one more drink (Drink)\nI'm gon' end up fucking you (Just one more!)\nIs that what you wanna do, shawty?\nThat's all it's gon' take!\nIf I take one more drink (Hey!)\nI'm gon' end up fucking you\nHaha! Who else, T-Pain?\nYou too, ooh, ooh, ooooh\nHahaha!\nYou hear what I'm saying?\nPeople too picky these days, dammit!\n\"Too tall, too short, too fat, too skinny\"\nHave a couple of drinks and quit discriminating\nThis has been a Luda Service Announcement\nDeuces!\nHahahaha"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsWe Got Lyrics\nDTP we got them guns that go\n*Gunshots*\n\nYea I'm all about that pistol player, cold blooded killer\nNiggas recognize my name, I dub the young dealer\nYou better tell ya man that with the gages I'm nice\nIll shoot up y'all white shirts until you all look like dice\nBut I'm through with all the talking time to show all you niggas\nI 2-0, I'm like J-Lo, blowing through niggas (damn!)\nDTP we ain't playing if you try to get our pay\nAnd them A.K's get to spraying like\nBottom line that mean I'm bout it, any nigga want it? Doubt it\nBust you in the broad day, on a street that's fully crowded\nYou\u2019ll find a hole inside your chest, just for thinking it's rap\nSo tell that pretty bitch thug we got some pretty big gats\nChaka say I'm shot out, and I tend to agree\nSo you should watch what you saying if it's intended for me\nSo be careful what you starting, let my fingers do the walking\nAnd that Uzi get to talking like *Gun Sound*\n\nHammers, jam 'em, snatch 'em, grab 'em\nCan the an and fuck 'em, damn 'em\nPress him, man him, scared him, teared him, kneed him up\nBake him, take him, beat him up, I hate a hater, I eat him up\nA-B-C-D-E-F shawty is you a G or what\nNow it's just me and my nuts, that's all I got in this world\nI'm pulling pistols out my stomach and throwing them bitches up like hurl\nServing the club, head shot, scattered, covered, run, scram 'em\nI'm 38, hot with a pearl handle\nAnd I'm throwing techs like a NBA ref\nI got, all gold guns like they came from Iraq\nArtillery, could it be I got all kinds of these pistols\nI point my gun at ya homeboy make ya own folks hit ya\nAnd they ain't taking no more pictures, if you snap I'mma click\nAnyway, plus I got bullets in the clip the size of Lil Fate\nAnd I'm waving choppers like heli-copters\nYou gonna need hella doctors, when the glok go *Gun Sound*\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nSay on the set bitch, better watch your lip those Tecs spit quick\n20 over thurr, Tity over thurr, Luda over thurr, ain't no exit trick\nUs you don't mess with, we got them guns like action flicks\nReload with the next clip, I'm the wrong nigga to flex with bitch\nCome on and test this, my gun I'm having sex with shit\nPut a bullet in (in) shoot it out, got them long horns like Texas bitch\nLook at my necklace, maybe hit a nigga disrespect this click\nMy pistol grip sound like this...now what\nWho want they day fucked, when I cock, unload the K, bust bust\nY\u2019all  cowards play tough, and my peeps we come to spray stuff up\nY\u2019all  lives made up, like ugly hoes with make-up bra\nWe'll shoot you up then toss yo ass in the lake tough nut\nMy wrist rocky like Sylvester Stallone\nSo therefore you should invest, in a vest for your dome\nCause I know you marks planning on getting me when I'm landing\nPeace to Nick, but my cannon go *Gun Sound*\n\nFuck a medic, we gonna call yo ass a taxi cab\nBleeding so hard you'll need a life size maxi pad\nSo flip the script and tell your woman its your time of the month\nAK-47 for the niggas who's really looking for heaven and a 9 for you chumps\nGot killers in my squad and I'm the nicest one in my group\nBut I got bananas for you niggas and I ain't talking bout fruit\nI\u2019ll peel your cap back with the black mac\n'Til your back crack, cock the gat back like (clak clak clak)\nSwallow a hollow make 'em digest with a 50 caliber\nYour futures not looking so good, tomorrows not on your calendar\nI do away with the amateurs, they breathing too long\nIll leave 'em coughing like the sound effects you hear in this song\nMy shotguns are cold and hard, but my desert is easy\nAnd my triggers are always talking about some squeeze me, squeeze me\nAnd for these fakers talking greasy, I'm starting the show\nMy uzi got a drum roll, it goes *Gun Sound*\n{Indistinct Chatter and Gunshots}"}
{"text":"7 ContributorsFace The Truth Lyrics\nYeah\nCan I ever really find a way to let go of you\nI been thinking about it every time that I'm in a booth\nTry to put together everything that we do\nEvery step we take is away from the truth\nWhat's the point of a relationship\nIf every other day we gotta save that shit\nIt\u2019s gotta be love, thought we found it\nShip has been sinking we both have been drowning\nAll the hatred that we been allowing\nAll the alcohol that we been downing\nAfraid to commit but afraid to let go I'm alone I can feel all the demons surrounding\nBeen a while since I recognized\nWho I see when I look in my eyes\nTrying to breathe but the more that I try\nMore that I suffocate dying inside\nTried to be different we both tried to listen I'm sorry that I had to leave you behind\nAll of the bitching was causing division I had to let go I was losing my mind\nLocked in a prison got lost in the vision of somehow believing that we would be fine\nMade the decision to leave this position and put all my pain in the faith of divine (faith of divine, faith of divine)\nSee Ludacris LiveGet tickets as low as $61You might also like\nAll we can take is one day at a time\nBe patient and open to seeing the signs\nLove is a war that you might not survive\nHappiness is what I hope you will find when you feeling the vibe and you meet the right guy\nThought it was me, but it wasn't our time\nStill I\u2019ll love you till the day that I die (day that I die, day that I die)\n\nTook it too fast but we were taking it slow\nHang on tight or we can let it go\nWe can surrender and just move on\nWe can be stubborn because we are strong\nWe can pretend that what we both know ain\u2019t true\nI don\u2019t mind it and neither do you\nNothing to gain just something to prove\nWe can try this love again or face the truth\n\nI wish I could stay here to be your protection\nLoving myself is what I been neglecting\nThe most difficult part is the patience\nWhile taking in all of these changes\nI don't mean to be acting evasive\nI'm pretending I don't wanna face this\nI get sick to my stomach when I think about someone else touching you now I'm anxious\nAll I got left is a picture of us\nAll because we had broken the trust\nBeen working on gaining it back for a year, but the spark has been missing it turned into dust\nMiss the high that I got from your touch\nBoth of us felt an adrenaline rush\nCo-dependent treated you like a crutch\nMy heart was stolen & brutally crushed\nQuestion is will I ever know\nWhat we we could have been if I let you go\nIf I need to walk this path alone\nAll on my own cause I need to grow\nFuck, I'm sick of this\nFeeling like a mother fucking hypocrite\nMade a lot of mistakes I gotta live with it\nFind a way to let it go and be indifferent\nQuit talking (quit talking, quit talking)\n\nAll we can take is one day at a time\nBe patient and open to seeing the signs\nLove is a war that you might not survive\nHappiness is what I hope you will find when you feeling the vibe and you meet the right guy\nThought it was me, but it wasn't our time\nStill I\u2019ll love you till the day that I die (day that I die, day that I die)\n\nTook it too fast but we were taking it slow\nHang on tight or we can let it go\nWe can surrender and just move on\nWe can be stubborn because we are strong\nWe can pretend that what we both know ain\u2019t true\nI don\u2019t mind it and neither do you\nNothing to gain just something to prove\nWe can try this love again or face the truth"}
{"text":"It's been a long day\nWithout you, my friend\nAnd I'll tell you all about it when I see you again\nWe've come a long way\nFrom where we began\nOh, I'll tell you all about it when I see you again\nWhen I see you again\nDamn, who knew?\nAll the planes we flew, good things we been through\nThat I'd be standin' right here talkin' to you\n'Bout another path, I know we loved to hit the road and laugh\nBut somethin' told me that it wouldn't last\nHad to switch up, look at things different, see the bigger picture\nThose were the days, hard work forever pays\nNow I see you in a better place (See you in a better place)\nUh\n\nHow can we not talk about family when family's all that we got?\nEverything I went through, you were standin' there by my side\nAnd now you gon' be with me for the last ride\nIt's been a long day\nWithout you, my friend\nAnd I'll tell you all about it when I see you again (I'll see you again)\nWe've come a long way (Yeah, we came a long way)\nFrom where we began (You know where we started)\nOh, I'll tell you all about it when I see you again (Let me tell you)\nWhen I see you again\nYou might also like\nOh, oh\nOoh (Yeah)\nFirst, you both go out your way and the vibe is feelin' strong\nAnd what's small turned to a friendship, a friendship turned to a bond\nAnd that bond'll never be broken, the love will never get lost\n(The love will never get lost)\nAnd when brotherhood come first, then the line'll never be crossed\nEstablished it on our own when that line had to be drawn\nAnd that line is what we reached, so remember me when I'm gone\n(Remember me when I'm gone)\n\nHow can we not talk about family when family's all that we got?\nEverything I went through, you were standin' there by my side\nAnd now you gon' be with me for the last ride\n\nSo let the light guide your way, yeah\nHold every memory as you go\nAnd every road you take\nWill always lead you home, home\nIt's been a long day\nWithout you, my friend\nAnd I'll tell you all about it when I see you again\nWe've come a long way\nFrom where we began\nOh, I'll tell you all about it when I see you again\nWhen I see you again\nOh (Uh), oh (Yeah-yeah; Yeah)\nOoh (Yo, yo, uh)\nWhen I see you again (See you again, yeah, yeah)\nOh (Yeah), oh (Yeah, yeah; oh-oh)\nOoh (Uh-huh, yup)\nWhen I see you again2.4KEmbed"}
{"text":"She's about to earn some bragging rights\nI'm 'bout to give it up like I've been holding back all night\nGirl, take pride in what you want to do\nEven if that means a new man every night inside of you\nBaby, I don't mind\nYou can tell by how I roll\nCause my clique hot and my cup cold\nMy talk slurred cause I\u2019m so throwed\nAnd I'm wiping sweat from my last show\nAnd he's TG and I'm XO\nI'm only here for one night\nThen I'ma be a memory\nSay it in my ear, so I can hear what you say to me\nI got cups full of that Ros\u00e9\nSmoke anything that's passed to me\nDon't worry 'bout my voice\nI won't need it for what I'm about to do to you\n\nBad bitch, girl I think I might get used to you\nI might have to take your number when I'm through with you\nAll I ask of you is try to earn my memory\nMake me remember you like you remember me\nBad bitch, girl I think I might get used to you\nI might have to take your number when I'm through with you\nAll I ask of you is try to earn my memory\nMake me remember you like you remember me\nYou might also like\nOld rapping ass\nLight years past the class\nHit it, don't have to pass\nNigga, we the new Aftermath\nNiggas after fame, I just had to laugh\nNiggas after fame, I'm after cash\nYou's a fan, I'm a player\nI'm the man, you's a hater\nAnd I only smoke papers\nThat's how you tell I'm Taylor'd\nNigga listen\nBreak it down, rolling weed on the island of my kitchen\nAnd not a thing goes down without permission\nLook, everything I got on I was made for\nEverything that I got I done came for\nAll the shit that you see I done slaved for\nAll the cars and the crib, yeah that's paid for\nNeed I say more\nSpend so much money on clothes\nSaid fuck a store, making my own\nI hope that you're rolling one up while you're singing along\nAnd know I was rolling one while I was making this song\nPour out some shots\nYou're taking too long\nYoung and I'm rich\nAnd plus all of my friends on that Bombay and lemonade\nDo to you\nBad bitch, girl I think I might get used to you\nI might have to take your number when I'm through with you\nAll I ask of you is try to earn my memory\nMake me remember you like you remember me\nBad bitch, girl I think I might get used to you\nI might have to take your number when I'm through with you\nAll I ask of you is try to earn my memory\nMake me remember you like you remember me\n\nI'm on some gin, you on some gin\nI'm moving slow, I'm driving fast\nI hit the weed, you take the wheel\nWe lose control\nDrop the top in that 69\nAnd that motor roar in that old Chevelle\nCan\u2019t say a thing, how you supposed to feel\nStacking all of this paper, dawg\nI like to call this shit old news\nAnd these haters jocking our old moves\nPopping champagne cause we made it\nBack of the Phantom, we faded\nAll of this shit that I did I probably won't remember tomorrow\nDo to you\nBad bitch, girl I think I might get used to you\nI might have to take your number when I'm through with you\nAll I ask of you is try to earn my memory\nMake me remember you like you remember me\nBad bitch, girl I think I might get used to you\nI might have to take your number when I'm through with you\nAll I ask of you is try to earn my memory\nMake me remember you like you remember me\n\nOh, oh\nUsed to you\nThrough with you\nAll I ask of you is try to earn my memory\nMake me remember you like you remember me\nUsed to you\nThrough with you\nMemory, remember you"}
{"text":"Yeah ayy!\nYeah ayy!\nYeah Boyz\nYeah\nHol' up, hol' up\n\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up, we makin' noise, hol' up\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up hol' up\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up, we makin' noise, hol' up\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up hol' up\n\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up, pop a bottle\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up, if you suck then swallow\nSmell that marijuana, they gon' follow\nThrowin money on her like she won the lotto\nPussy must be serious\nHol' up, Scared of heights come face your fears\nHol' up, hol' up\nDo it just like Nicki gon' and bend it over\nSay she never smoked I turned her to a stoner\nYoung nigga but I'm ready\nOh, foreign girls call me sexy\nAnd white girls gimme becky\nBut first I gotta roll this joint, baby hol' up\nYou might also like\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up, we makin' noise, hol' up\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up hol' up\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up, we makin' noise, hol' up\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up hol' up\n\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up, you drive me crazy\nNumber 1, bitch you can't replace me\nLeave the club these hoes be tryin' to chase me\nYou got a ass so fat let's make a baby (and another one!)\nDamn, I'm smokin' weed in my Mercedes\nHol' up, these niggas broke, these niggas lazy\nMan they money slim, they actin shady\nI'm in my brand new car, who wanna race\nHo, bitch you ain't call my phone so why you showin' up\nI'm takin them shots all my niggas stay loaded up\nMan on the low all these hoes be actin so material\nHol' up, man did you see her interior\n\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up, we makin' noise, hol' up\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up hol' up\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, we dem boyz\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up, we makin' noise, hol' up\nHol' up, hol' up, hol' up hol' up"}
{"text":"Yeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\n\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nEverything I do, yeah, I do it big\nYeah, uh-huh, screaming: \"That's nothin'!\"\nWhen I pulled off the lot, that's stuntin'\nReppin' my town, when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamonds, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\n\nUh, black stripe, yellow paint\nThem niggas scared of it, but them hoes ain't\nSoon as I hit the club, look at them hoes' face\nHit the pedal once, make the floor shake\nSuede inside, my engine roarin'\nIt\u2019s the big boy, you know what I paid for it\nAnd I got the pedal to the metal\nGot you niggas checking game, I\u2019m ballin' out on every level\nHear them haters talk, but there\u2019s nothin' you can tell 'em\nJust made a million, got another million on my schedule\nNo love for 'em, nigga breaking hearts\nNo keys, push to start\nYou might also like\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nEverything I do, yeah, I do it big\nYeah, uh-huh, screaming: \"That's nothin'!\"\nWhen I pulled off the lot, that's stuntin'\nReppin' my town, when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamonds, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\n\nGot a call from my jeweler, this just in\nAnd bitches love me \u2018cause I'm fucking with their best friends\nNot a lesbian, but she a freak though\nThis ain't for one night, I\u2019m shining all week, ho\nI\u2019m sippin' Clicquot and rocking yellow diamonds\nSo many rocks up in my watch I can\u2019t tell what the time is\nGot a pocket full of big faces\nThrow it up, 'cause every nigga that I\u2019m with Taylor'd\n\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nEverything I do, yeah, I do it big\nYeah, uh-huh, screaming: \"That's nothin'!\"\nWhen I pulled off the lot, that's stuntin'\nReppin' my town, when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamonds, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nStay high like how I\u2019m supposed to do\nThat crowd underneath them clouds can\u2019t get close to you\nAnd my car look unapproachable\nSuper clean, but it's super mean\nShe wanna fuck with them cats, smoke weed, count stacks\nGet fly and take trips and that's that, real rap\nI let her get high if she want and she feel that\nConvertible drop feel, \u201887, the top peeled back\n\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nYeah, yeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nYou already know what it is, man\nAnd if you don't, you should by now\nReppin' my town, when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamonds, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\n\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nEverything I do, yeah, I do it big\nYeah, uh-huh, screaming: \"That's nothin'!\"\nWhen I pulled off the lot, that's stuntin'\nReppin' my town, when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamonds, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsMedicated Lyrics\nYou be anything you want\nJust keep going, going, gone, gone, gone\nIt don't stop here nigga\n\nBack when I was young I had dreams of getting richer\nThen my homie Breeze set me down schooled me to the picture\nI was with some wild niggas put me on the game\nTold me if you tryin' to make your move you gotta know your lane homie\nAll you got your name and your word so never break it\nFor this life you pay a price you get a chance you gotta take it\nCause most niggas never make it they stranded where I'm from\nAin't no conversation all they understand is get a gun\nI was riding in my Bonneville hoping I could make it\nOut selling P\u2019s and smoking weed avoiding police right up the street\nWay back in the day before I had all of this paper\nBefore I had all of these diamonds, before I had all of these haters\n\nNow I remember when, I seen it and to me it was stuntin'\nI remember when, I bought it I ain't need it or nothing\nAlways in a different state so now they label me a goner\nI ain't come up out of nowhere I'm from straight up off the corner\nNow everywhere we go, they probably know my name cause I been there\nNow everywhere we go, they said how much I spend when I'm in there\nAnd I'm throwing up my money for the ones who never made it\nSayin' fuck the ones who hated, roll one up and celebrate\nYou might also like\nNow let's get medicated\nMan, let's get medicated\nLet's get medicated\nMan I'm hella faded\nMan, let's get medicated\nLet's get medicated\nLet's get medicated\nMan I'm hella faded\nI'm hella faded\n\nRoll that weed up and smoke it\nTake your bitch home and poke it\nJuicy be gettin' so faded\nThank God I got a chauffeur\nOnly good Cali bud\nPulling hoes bad as fuck\nJust like a youngin' my nigga\nJuicy do all them drugs\nNiggas smoking that babbage weed\nI be on that light green\nPop molly in the after hours\nA member of no sleep team\nGet a whole pound smoke it by myself\nOr maybe after Olympics with my homie Michael Phelps\nYou known I\u2019m fresh up off that corner, twistin marijuana\nThey copy us, they clone us\nYeah we so fly we owners\nGot acting like they been before\nBut they ain't never been at all\n8 balls I was in the hall\nAin't have time to fuck with y'all\nChampagne when we celebrate\nKeen sense so I smell the hate\nMiddle finger we getting paid\nIt cost much but don't press that eight\nThat dotted line it ain't like that day\nComic book let me illustrate\nLike power bang when they lift that cane\nMy cousin died wish I can get that day\nBack like it's a vertebrae\nBring that nigga on front street\nTalk about and never be about it\nThey don't wanna beef cause that's lunch meat\nSo anything you need you know that's on me\nAnd that's OG, I swear homie\n\nNow let's get medicated\nMan, let's get medicated\nLet's get medicated\nMan I'm hella faded\nMan, let's get medicated\nLet's get medicated\nLet's get medicated\nMan I'm hella faded\nI'm hella faded\nRiding down the street the way I'm grinding is unique\nMy city holding on to me so niggas holding on their heat\nThrowing up their side, rolling up that leaf\nAll we do is get high, all we want is peace\nAlways on the grind that's every day so police looking\nI'm just rapping killing beats and tryin' to stay away from booking\nYeah my niggas dirty crooked I just had to make it known\nAnd let me hit the studio to show they happy to be home\n\nNow I remember when, I seen it and to me it was stuntin'\nI remember when, I bought it I ain't need it or nothing\nAlways in a different state so now they label me a goner\nI ain't come up out of nowhere I'm from straight up off the corner\nNow everywhere we go, they probably know my name cause I been there\nNow everywhere we go, they said how much I spend when I'm in there\nAnd I'm throwing up my money for the ones who never made it\nSayin' fuck the ones who hated, roll one up and celebrate\n\nNow let's get medicated\nMan, let's get medicated\nLet's get medicated\nMan I'm hella faded\nMan, let's get medicated\nLet's get medicated\nLet's get medicated\nMan I'm hella faded\nI'm hella faded"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishWork Hard, Play Hard Lyrics\nWork hard, play hard\nWork hard, play hard\nWork hard, play hard\nWork hard, play hard\nWork, work, work, work\nWork, work, work, work\n\nDiamonds all on my ring nigga\nGold watches, gold chain nigga\nHundred thou' on champagne nigga\nYeah my money insane nigga\nYeah I'm making it rain nigga\nBut I was just on the plane nigga\nBuying gear, flying here\nFuck what you heard, it\u2019s my time of year\nIf I'm in the club, I get a hundred stacks\nI'm always rolling up so I get love for that\nThem niggas stole my swag but I don't want it back\nMy nigga uh! I was on this, but now I'm onto that\nYou see it in my closet before it's on the rack\nWas out there in Hawaii, now I'm goin back\nMy nigga uh! I got so much money I should start a bank\nSo much paper right in front of me it's hard to think\nBuy so many bottles it's gon' be hard to drink\nBut I'm still pourin' up and my family here and they rolling up so uh!\nYou might also like\nThe bigger the bill, the harder you ball\nWell I'm throwing mine, cause my money long\nThe quicker you here, the faster you go\nThat's why where I come from the only thing we know is..\nThe bigger the bill, the harder you ball\nWell I'm throwing mine, cause my money long\nThe quicker you here, the faster you go\nThat's why where I come from the only thing we know is..\n\nWork hard, play hard\nWork hard, play hard\nWork hard, play hard\nWork hard, play hard\nWork, work, work, work\nWork, work, work, work\n\nHop your pretty ass up in this fucking car\nBitch I'm out this world, girl you know I'm a star\nUsed to buying rounds but now we buy the bar\nLast year they had to ask now they know who we are\nBoss shit, walk in the building, I own shit\nYou can tell by who I'm on the phone with\nYeah nigga talking about grown shit\nNiggas too busy jacking my swag\nNeed to fuck around, get your own shit\nGet your own cars, get your own clothes\nGet your own smoke, get your own bitch\nYou ain't reppin' my gang, get your own clique\nThe bigger the bill, the harder you ball\nWell I'm throwing mine, cause my money long\nThe quicker you here, the faster you go\nThat's why where I come from the only thing we know is..\nThe bigger the bill, the harder you ball\nWell I'm throwing mine, cause my money long\nThe quicker you here, the faster you go\nThat's why where I come from the only thing we know is..\n\nGo hard\nMake sure you do whatever is that you gotta do, that's your job\nAnd niggas gon' hate but that's no prob'\nSo hey fuck 'em don't need nothing from 'em\nSome niggas talking but the shit they claiming don't mean nothing\nIt's straight from Cali, that's what's in my joint that's what I'm puffin', OG\nAnd been one since I was young enough to know that everybody was gonna know me\nMost niggas don't see\n\nThe bigger the bill, the harder you ball\nWell I'm throwing mine, cause my money long\nThe quicker you here, the faster you go\nThat's why where I come from the only thing we know is..\nThe bigger the bill, the harder you ball\nWell I'm throwing mine, cause my money long\nThe quicker you here, the faster you go\nThat's why where I come from the only thing we know is..\nWork hard, play hard\nWork hard, play hard\nWork hard, play hard\nWork hard, play hard"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsHopeless Romantic Lyrics\nYoung Chop on the beat\nOh, oh\nOh, oh, oh\nTurn the music up for me, Chris\nShe's gonna get, oh, oh, oh\n\nMy night runs into mornin', all the time (All the time)\nAnd through my phone I'm scrollin', bang my line (Bang my line)\nOff that drank it's hard to focus (Focus)\nSeems like I'm always chosen by romantics that are hopeless\nWe can make arrangements though (Arrangements though)\nAnd if you down, down, who knows, uh\nI might just do you like we lovin', yeah\nOr make you my numero uno\n\nShe don't allow herself\nTo miss nobody else\nI've had days where I was dolo (Where I was dolo)\nBut I never caught a bad case of FOMO (Don't miss out)\nDon't talk to me about your previous\nYou know I'm that times two\nPenthouse jumpin' from the front to backroom\nGirls goin' wild, showin' off new tattoos (Tattoos)\nYou might also like\nMy night runs into mornin', all the time (All the time)\nAnd through my phone I'm scrollin', bang my line (Bang my line)\nOff that drank it's hard to focus (Focus)\nSeems like I'm always chosen by romantics that are hopeless\nWe can make arrangements though (Arrangements though)\nAnd if you down, down, who knows, uh\nI might just do you like we lovin', yeah\nOr make you my numero uno\n\nWe get aggressive (We get aggressive)\nYou be undressin' (You be undressin')\nMakin' a mess and (Makin' a mess and)\nCleanin' it up when we done\nI got a serious question (Serious question)\nDo you like sex? If you thinkin' yes\nThen I'm tryna test you (I'm tryna test you)\nSay young Khalifa the best\nBut I got money to get (I got money to get)\nI gotta hop on a jet (I gotta hop on a jet)\nProbably don't call, I'ma text (Probably don't call, I'ma text)\nHop in my car, it get wet (Hop in my car, it get wet)\nI\u2019m gettin' all of my checks (I'm gettin' all of my checks)\nI\u2019m winnin' all of my bets (I'm winnin' all of my bets)\nNo, I ain't lettin' you down\nBaby, I'm givin' a hundred percent\nMy night runs into mornin', all the time (All the time)\nAnd through my phone I'm scrollin', bang my line (Bang my line)\nOff that drank it's hard to focus (Focus)\nSeems like I'm always chosen by romantics that are hopeless\nWe can make arrangements though (Arrangements though)\nAnd if you down, down, who knows, uh\nI might just do you like we lovin', yeah\nOr make you my numero uno\n\nI can't keep my mind off you (My mind off you)\nI can't keep my mind off you (My mind off you)\nI can't keep my mind off you (My mind off you)\n\nMy night runs into mornin', all the time (All the time)\nAnd through my phone I'm scrollin', bang my line (Bang my line)\nOff that drank it's hard to focus (Focus)\nSeems like I'm always chosen by romantics that are hopeless\nWe can make arrangements though (Arrangements though)\nAnd if you down, down, who knows, uh\nI might just do you like we lovin', yeah\nOr make you my numero uno"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsMaan Lyrics\n\nIs it recording?\nLove is life, and life is living\nFuckin' awesome, yeah!\nHahaha\n\nI smoked the whole damn pound\nI'm a need another one, 'nother one\nEyes closed, I won't come down\nOnly papers, no we don't fuck with blunts\n\nNigga, I don't just be sharing weed\nA nigga got pounds to burn that's apparent\nJust cause you up in this bitch\nDon't mean you gon' hit this shit\nYou better roll somethin'\nCoughin' like you got a cold or somethin'\nTryna  O.D. on THC\nNigga fuck around gave Young Khalifa a pound\nSmoke the whole thing up in the week\nRoll a joint, put a worm around that motherfucker\nSmoke it to the face\nOhh shit, nigga just got some KK and he said he on the way\nBig P told me church, get money on 'em every single day\nSo I want everything, every room, every plane, every place\nWe mobbin'\nYou might also like\nNigga, we mobbin', we mobbin', shit!\nGo, go! Nigga, we mobbin'\n\nNow every place that we go, they say we can't smoke\nBut we do it anyway, cause real G's smoke when they want\nWhen they say turn down, we turn up and turn up some mo'\nWhen they say put it out, it's too loud, We burn up some mo'\nThen we keep rolling, and rolling, and rolling, and rolling\nWe keep rolling, and rolling, and rolling, and rolling\nWe keep rolling, and rolling, and rolling, and rolling\n\nNigga keep going, keep the KK blowin\nSnakes in the grass keep mowin'\nAss so fat, look swollen\nAnother city, state gotta show in\nAnother airport gotta go in\nReason why you hate, I'm knowin\nNiggas got too much hoein'\nI keep rollin' up\nDrivin' a brand new car like that motherfucker stolen\nThey don't understand what i'm doin'\nMoney in my hand, nigga, 28 grams when i'm rollin'\nBeen through New York and London and Paris and back\nSouth By Southwes only niggas smokin' on pack\nRollin' up bats\nGo on, get a bong, get a match\nEverybody get along, get attached\nGet a song, get a biatch\nWhat he say, every dog need a cat\nPotheads need a joint to relax\nG pen full of wax\n10 Rolled cone joints, really fast\nNo sticks no seeds in the bag\nGot reason to brag\nIn the front, y'all b's in the back\nPair of chucks, ripped jeans is the swag\nLittle bitch, we mobbin'\nNigga, we mobbin', we mobbin', shit!\nGo, go! Nigga, we mobbin'\n\nNow every place that we go, they say we can't smoke\nBut we do it anyway, cause real G's smoke when they want\nWhen they say turn down, we turn up and turn up some mo'\nWhen they say put it out, it's too loud, We burn up some mo'\nThen we keep rolling, and rolling, and rolling, and rolling\nWe keep rolling, and rolling, and rolling, and rolling\nWe keep rolling, and rolling, and rolling, and rolling"}
{"text":"50 ContributorsSo High (Blacc Hollywood) Lyrics\nFirst thing, uh-huh, wake up out a dream, uh-huh\nGrab a lighter, uh-huh, something I can steam, uh-huh\nBong rip, uh-huh, make sure it's clean, uh-huh\nSmoke sesh, uh-huh, nigga what you mean, uh-huh\nIn my car, uh-huh, cruising down the street, uh-huh\nSo stoned I'ma need something to eat, uh-huh\nNo tray, uh-huh, ashes on my seat, uh-huh\nHighed up, uh-huh, Taylors on my feet, uh-huh\nCloud 9, uh-huh, going through my mind, uh-huh\nTake a toke, uh-huh, hold it 'til you choke, uh-huh\nMoving forward, uh-huh, cruising on my board, uh-huh\nStill got more, uh-huh, burn it 'til it\u2019s short, uh-huh\n\n(And I be floating)\nAnd I get so high, fuck around and never come down\n(Higher than a motherfucker)\nI get so high, I get so high\n(And I be floating)\nAnd I get so high, fuck around and never come down\n(High than a motherfucker)\nI get so high, I get so high\n(And I be higher than a motherfucker)\n\nHigh up and we're floating\nDon't know where we're going\nNight until the morning\nWe rolling, rolling, rolling\nHigher then we're floating\nDon't know where we're going\nNight until the morning\nWe rolling, rolling, rolling\nYou might also like\nTell that nigga use a grinder for that weed, uh-huh\nAnd tell him \"roll another joint don't fall asleep\", uh-huh\nSmoke peace, uh-huh, pipe like a chief, uh-huh\nHeard you got a cheaper price for that reefer, huh?\nWhat you need? Uh-huh, never find a seed, uh-huh\nTake a dab, uh-huh, straight THC, uh-huh\nFor the highest in the room, look at me, uh-huh\nSomewhere in the clouds, that's where we wanna be, uh-huh\nGot you shook, uh-huh, not just for the look, uh-huh\nHalf the day, uh-huh, rolled the whole book, uh-huh\nDrive slow, uh-huh, blow it by the O, uh-huh\nEyes low, uh-huh, everybody know it, damn\n\n(And I be floating)\nI get so high, fuck around and never come down\n(Higher than a motherfucker)\nI get so high, I get so high\n(And I be floating)\nI get so high\nFuck around and never come down\n(And I be higher than a motherfucker)\nI get so high, I get so high\n(and I be higher than a motherfucker)\nHigher then we're floating\nDon't know where we're going\nNight until the morning\nWe rolling, rolling, rolling\nHigher then we're floating\nDon't know where we're going\nNight until the morning\nWe rolling, rolling, rolling\n\nGrowing up, uh-huh, never gave a fuck, uh-huh\nPulling out the '62 and showing up, uh-huh\nTwenty-six, guess that mean I'm growing up, uh-huh\nPouring up, uh-huh, all my niggas rolling up\nMaking sure that...\n\nI get so high, fuck around and never come down\n(Higher than a motherfucker)\nI get so high, I get so high\n(And I be floating)\nI get so high, fuck around and never come down\n(higher than a motherfucker)\nI get so high, I get so high\n(And I be floating)\nHigher then we're floating\nDon't know where we're going\nNight until the morning\nWe rolling, rolling, rolling\nHigher then we're floating\nDon't know where we're going\nNight until the morning\nWe rolling, rolling, rolling"}
{"text":"Mistercap! You ready again bro?\nYeah!\nTGOD Mafia, straight out of Pittsburgh, man!\nCan't smoke weed to it\nDon't doubt this nigga\nI don't wanna listen to it\nHe the truth, nigga\nYeah\n\nAt my bake sale, yeah (You know it)\nWe can't wait to bake, hell yeah\nLaughin' off this drank, hell yeah (Ha-ha)\nLovin' having sex, hell yeah (Let's go, let's go)\nAll day, hell yeah (Uh huh, all day)\nWe've been countin' cake, hell yeah\nPuffin' on this dank, hell yeah (We trippin')\nWe can't wait to bake, hell yeah (What you say, bro?)\n\nI've been on the phone, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Mh-hm)\nGettin' calls from home, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nSo I started up a bake sale, yeah, yeah, yeah\nThey know I got all the cake, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYou might also like\nCookies and OG\nCome to my crib, we blow by the Os\nKush, you already know\nIt ain't in a joint, we don't even smoke it\nI keep a bitch gettin' stoned\nWe wakin' and bakin', puffin' a J\nShe told me that I'm her new favorite\nHow much do we blaze? A hundred a day\nSay they got the good but what the pack smell like?\nFeel like it's a dream but now we back to real life\nIt's incredible\nI got flowers, wax, inhalers, edibles\nAll shit you never saw\nAnd it's all at my bake sale\nRoll another one, help me think well\nI stay with the plane\nI'm slangin' them thangs, you know we ain't new to this\nLet's turn on the stove and call up some hoes\nLet's roll up and do this shit (Yeah, ho)\n\nAt my bake sale, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah; You know it)\nWe can't wait to bake, hell yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Hahaha)\nLaughin' off this drank, hell yeah, yeah, yeah\nLovin' having sex, hell yeah\nAll day, hell yeah (Yeah, ho)\nWe've been countin' cake, hell yeah\nPuffin' on this dank, hell yeah (We trippin')\nWe can't wait to bake, hell yeah\nI just rolled a pound at my bake sale\nBitches goin' down at my bake sale\nI just keep it real, I don't fake well (Tell 'em)\nNiggas say they on, well, I can't tell (Tell 'em)\nI just fucked three hoes, I don't know their name (Tell 'em)\nPussy come and pussy go, it's all the same (You chose)\nRollin' up the weed while I count the cake\nNaked bitches in the kitchen, shake 'n bake (Yeah)\nWhat you think? I'm off this dank, I'm off this drank\nI often blaze an ounce a day\nYou at my crib, it's no mistake (Mh-hm)\nRollin' papers, rollin' trays, shattered pieces\nGlasses, lighters, torches, fuck it, anything that matters\nYou can get it all right here\n\nAt my bake sale, yeah (Woo)\nWe can't wait to bake, hell yeah (Fuck)\nLaughin' off this drank, hell yeah (Mister Cap; Yeah, yeah; Does is again)\nLovin' having sex, hell yeah (Let me hear that shit)\nAll day, hell yeah (Yeah, ho)\nWe've been countin' cake, hell yeah\nPuffin' on this dank, hell yeah (We trippin')\nWe can't wait to bake, hell yeah\nRoll, roll one up\nGot a J, make a plane, now we goin' up\nAll day, every day, we ain't roll enough\nGet a pound, break it down, get them cones stuffed\nIt's goin' down, goin' down\nI'ma roll one up\nGot a J, make a plane, now we goin' up\nAll day, every day, we ain't smoke enough\nI'm on the KK, stoned as fuck\nAt my bake sale, yeah"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsThe Plan Lyrics\nI'm gettin' high as fuck in this, trippy niggas\nMust be some real shit though\nLet's get it, hear we go\nI looked in the mirror today\nAnd seen the realest nigga I ever met in my life\nHahahahaha, uhh\n\nI done smoked weed where they said I can't\nGot rich when they said I can't\nGot high and got on the plane\nAnd brought all my niggas when they said I can't\nWent shopping places they said I can't\nBought some shit that they said I can't\nJumped on the road and did all them shows\nCause I was poppin' places they said I ain't\nWent hard in places they said I can't\nPromoters call and try and set up dates\nBought the car with that yellow paint\nGo to parties now and they set up drinks\nAnd it's first class, so I'm private plane\nNudie jeans with my get up mane\nRolling papers and Mary Jane\nI made 11 mil' and I'm still the same\nYou might also like\nWhat's with all these niggas and their feelings, man?\nAll of this and I'm still the man\nThought of this when I was just a fan\nBut all this money wasn't in the plan\nNow it's all about them Benjamins\nBallin' hard and you in the stands\nAll this money, I'm a business man\nOut of all these niggas, I'm the realest man\nWhat's with all these niggas and their feelings, mane?\nAll of this and I'm still the mane\nThought of this when I was just a fan\nBut all this money wasn't in the plan\nNow it's all about them Benjamins\nBallin' hard and you in the stands\nAll this money, I'm a business mane\nOut of all these niggas, I'm the realest mane\n\nOut of all these niggas, they callin' me the realest\nStarted underneath the floor, now my money through the ceiling\nAlways staying on my grind, turned nothing to a million\nUsed to just tryna live, now a nigga make a killin'\nGold Rollie on my arm, ten rings like a don\nCuban links in my chain, Zigzag on my charm\nChampagne on ice, good weed in the jar\nEverything Hermes, Chanel seats in the car\nWhen you all know them fuck niggas start hatin'\nTalkin' 'bout what they gon' do but I'm waitin'\nWhen you getting rich, they doubt you, but shout-out my gang\nAnd my brother Will cause I couldn't do this without you, fo' real\nWhat's with all these niggas and their feelings, man?\nAll of this and I'm still the man\nThought of this when I was just a fan\nBut all this money wasn't in the plan\nNow it's all about them Benjamins\nBallin' hard and you in the stands\nAll this money, I'm a business man\nOut of all these niggas, I'm the realest man\nWhat's with all these niggas and their feelings, mane?\nAll of this and I'm still the mane\nThought of this when I was just a fan\nBut all this money wasn't in the plan\nNow it's all about them Benjamins\nBallin' hard and you in the stands\nAll this money, I'm a business mane\nOut of all these niggas, I'm the realest mane\n\n18 racks, I pay the dough, to send them goons straight to ya door\nTo show you niggas what's real, and let you meet that .44\nRun your mouth, you in the trunk\nGlock to your head, nowhere to run\nCatch you niggas when you by yourself\nWe gon' hit you niggas with a hundred drums\nBoat load, no babbage, good drank, I'm famished\nBank account outlandish, big real estate, sittin' on land, bitch\nNiggas out there tryna test me, I put the AK where his chest be\nDon't fight with hoes, don't fight with niggas\nNo security, bitch, so don't test me\nDouble cup full, I be sippin' up\nMob niggas, man, real criminals\nIf a nigga find you, they gon' hit ya up\nWith a Bin Laden chopper that'll split ya up\nAll these hoes be jockin' tryna get with us\nThey gon' swallow this nut, no spittin' up\nYour niggas get murked, your niggas in jail\nMy team gettin' money stay filled with drugs\nWhat's with all these niggas and their feelings, man?\nAll of this and I'm still the man\nThought of this when I was just a fan\nBut all this money wasn't in the plan\nNow it's all about them Benjamins\nBallin' hard and you in the stands\nAll this money, I'm a business man\nOut of all these niggas, I'm the realest man\nWhat's with all these niggas and their feelings, mane?\nAll of this and I'm still the mane\nThought of this when I was just a fan\nBut all this money wasn't in the plan\nNow it's all about them Benjamins\nBallin' hard and you in the stands\nAll this money, I'm a business mane\nOut of all these niggas, I'm the realest mane\n\nI'm the realest mane, I'm the realest mane\nI'm the realest mane, I'm the realest mane\nI'm the realest mane, I'm the realest mane\nI'm the realest mane, I'm the realest mane\nI'm the realest mane, I'm the realest mane\nI'm the realest mane, I'm the realest mane\nI'm the realest mane, I'm the realest mane\nI'm the realest mane, I'm the realest mane"}
{"text":"43 ContributorsPromises Lyrics\nSay baby, I'ma wait up for you\nI'ma have my way with your body\nAnd when I\u2019m done touching you\nI bet you won\u2019t wanna\nGive yourself to nobody\nBaby when the lights go out\nIt\u2019s like we\u2019re the only ones\nAnd I already feel it now\nIt\u2019s like you\u2019re the only one\nOnly one who knows just how\nHow to make the time stand still\nWe\u2019re caught in the moment\n\nSo don\u2019t let me down\nYou made those promises\nDon\u2019t take em back now\nDon\u2019t let me down\nDo all the things you said that had me going\nLet\u2019s get caught in the moment\nLet\u2019s get caught in the moment\n\nSmoking one and rolling one\nI come and break you down for fun\nYou love it when I get up in it\nKiss your body when I\u2019m finished\nMy drop crotch is by Knomadik\nMy drop top is automatic\nPut you in it, now you tweaking\nI kidnap you for the weekend\nRolling up and going up\nI\u2019m smoking weed and pouring up\nI take that money, hold it up\nI take your legs and fold em up\nI take my time, I break it down\nI tell you not to make a sound\nI take that KK, pass it round\nYour clothes keep dropping to the ground\nYou might also like\nSo don\u2019t let me down\nYou made those promises\nDon\u2019t take em back now\nDon\u2019t let me down\nDo all the things you said that had me going\nLet\u2019s get caught in the moment\nLet\u2019s get caught in the moment"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsSomething New Lyrics\nRight Now Sound\nI be with the Hitmaka\nSo, hol' up\n\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah)\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah, ah)\n'Cause I can't stop lovin' you (Ooh, yeah)\nSince I got a taste of your love (Ooh, yeah)\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah, oh-woah)\n\nGoddamn, you know who I am\nTry to be on the low, but you ain't slow\nKeep my shirt open, eyes low\nGet a lot of paper, I know\nBut you ain't into that, you like real facts\nLike, if you show love, you gon' get it back\nLike, if you fuck good, you gon' get it back\nLike, if you cook, wanna a real nigga that\nGon' rap 'til that pussy like (Uh, uh)\nWe can go and get a private room\nWe can fuck for one night, ain't gotta jump the broom\nSay your nigga, chill\nYou might also like\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah)\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah, ah)\n'Cause I can't stop lovin' you (Ooh, yeah)\nSince I got a taste of your love (Ooh, yeah)\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah, oh-woah)\n\nI can tell you ain't from 'round here\nAll that body, baby, it's not fair\nPull up on that ass in a drop, yeah\nThat's your ex, nigga? I'm dead!\nLookin' for a real one? You found it!\nCalifornia King, we gon' go rounds on it\nNo doubt, yeah, leave your legs shakin'\nI might sing to that pussy like la-da-da-di-da (Di, yeah)\nGirl, your shit so classic, it don't need no features (No, ooh Yeah)\n\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah)\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah, ah)\n'Cause I can't stop lovin' you (Ooh, yeah)\nSince I got a taste of your love (Ooh, yeah)\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah, oh-woah)\n\nGirl, you look just like somethin' out a magazine ('Zine)\nYou smell great, know your body clean (Yeah)\nThem niggas been on you since you was a teen (Teen)\nNow you grown up, and I'm a boss, I'm just showing love (Love)\nSmell like kush when I'm rollin' up (Roll)\nSo much bank, I can fold it up (Fold)\nIt's so good, got you callin' up (Call)\nTryna kick it with a nigga like, uhh (Brroom)\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah)\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah, ah)\n'Cause I can't stop lovin' you (Ooh, yeah)\nSince I got a taste of your love (Ooh, yeah)\nBaby, come give me something new (Ooh-ah, oh-woah)"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsPaperbond Lyrics\nYup, yeah yeah\nOh, hahahaha\nYup yup yup yup yup yup yup yup yup\nYup yup yup yup yup yup yup yup yup\nI got enough weed to last me for the rest of my motherfuckin' life\nAin't gon' ever run out\n\nUh, get the cork out the bottle\nGet that money up and make your style a lil' harder to follow\nI've been hustlin' all the time, that's the only thing I know\nNow my watch is worth 30 thousand\nGot Cuban links and Italian\nBoy, I'm gettin' it\nRidin' in my ride, lookin' filthy rich\nKillin' these niggas, I ain't innocent, my bad\nAin't paid the cost, see they just watch me, then copy my swag\nSay I fell off, that's where you lost me\nHow's that when my name is in my upholstery?\nI'm rollin' up and goin' places across seas\nHopin' the neighbor don't smell the shit I bake\nAnd every day I'm on another plane\nI hardly sleep but hey\nI wouldn't have it any other way\nYou might also like\nNow here we are, now there we go\nYou holdin' on to it, we we smoke it all today\nNow here we are, now there we go, now there we go\nNow here we are\nI wake up and I bake up, get my things and catch a plane\nBut I'll be back again (Now there we go), back again (Now there we go)\nNow here we are\nI wake up and I bake up, get my things and catch a plane\nBut I'll be back again (Now there we go), back again (Now there we go)\n\nUh, so much money that when I pull up\nHop out and walk in the bank, teller look at me funny\nKnow how much I get\nKnow I'm liable to walk up in this bitch\nLike Tony with big blue bags of this shit\nAnd tell 'em \"Count it up\"\nRidin' 'round in that Cali\nGot OG Kush in my body\nMy nigga, I keep it G and that's Gucci or that Gianni\nI'm gettin' dressed for the airport to pose for the paparazzi, huh?\nMo' money, mo' problems, not how I see, huh?\nMo' money, mo' Roberto Cavalli, bruh\nDamn, ain't it funny how time pass\nOnly nigga in first class\nNow here we are, now there we go\nYou rollin' on to where we smoke it all today\nNow here we are, now there we go, now there we go\nNow here we are\nI wake up and I bake up, get my things and catch a plane"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsKing of Everything Lyrics\nAh, ah, ah\nHahaha, ah\n\nWake up in the morning, grab my trees and I get to it\nYoung nigga, I do my own thing so let me do it\nIf you wanna know a thing about me, I'm 'bout my paper\nFuck a bitch, soon as my iPhone ring I see you later\nHop on in the Chevy, grab my keys and then I'm outtie\nFirst thing, If it's 'bout that cheese, then I'm about it\nI be stacking up, got no time for niggas hating\nLow we backing up, keep that clean and watch some Daytons\nCruising down the street, hear my car before it's coming\nFuck the police, windows down, I'm smoking something\nAnd my bitch bad, she gon' ride If shit get crazy\nGoons masked up, they gon' slide you try to play me\nSince a young nigga, kept that pack up in the telly\nSince a young nigga, been had tats like Makaveli\nShoot for fun nigga\nMy niggas bust, you better run nigga\nKing of fucking everything\n\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nYoung rich nigga, smoking weed when I wanna\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nYoung rich nigga, smoking weed when I wanna\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nYoung rich nigga, smoking weed when I wanna\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nYoung rich nigga, smoking weed when I wanna\nYou might also like\nWhen I touch down, have that pack, you fucking with me\nFuck the bitch once, she talkin' about she love with me\nLet her smoke weed, drink champagne, do drugs with me\nWe go out of town, dinner at TAO, do clubs with me\nWhat you niggas think, got more bank and more ranks\nSmoking weed with some bitches in the club who don't drink\nTalkin' about they get money, they got expensive taste\nSo I put it in her mouth and sent 'em both on their way\nI'll be there for one night, don't give a fuck if I stay\nSpent a couple hundred thousand in a couple of days\nSmoke a pound in my suite and then come up with a play\nBitch came over to my crib and had a comfortable stay\nShe feeling my car, she feeling my chain\nShe think I'm a star, I'm feeling the same\nI take her abroad, I fuck her insane\nI'm switching up broads, I'm killing the game\nLong range\nKing of fucking everything\n\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nYoung rich nigga, smoking weed when I wanna\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nYoung rich nigga, smoking weed when I wanna\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nYoung rich nigga, smoking weed when I wanna\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nYoung rich nigga, smoking weed when I wanna\n\n"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsKK Lyrics\nIs this the top? Uh\nI got my own weed, sucker, so I ain't gotta hit yours\nI'm talking straight indo, ahh\nCali weed blowing like a Rastaman\nKush seed straight from Afghanistan\nShooting up the club like an AK, bow, bow, bow, bow, bow\nSmoke a P strong every day, I'm\n\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nI need it all the time, don't know what else to say\nIt's always on my mind, that's why every day\nI'm blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\n\nPut it in a joint, not a blunt\nDon't disrespect mine, player\nThis not the two, this the one\nDon't even need a scale\nBack in high school I used to be the weedman\nQuarter ounces, half ounces, what you need, man\n11th grade, made my way up to a P, man\nAnd sent it back if I ever seen a seed, man\nAnd you don't even gotta ask\nYou know it by the smell\nI treat every day like it's a payday\nTop down, counting up the cake and\nYou might also like\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nI need it all the time, don't know what else to say\nIt's always on my mind, that's why every day\nI'm blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\n\nI got KK in my pipe, pockets fat like Kelly Price\nIf you wanna take a hit you can't be afraid of heights\nYou gon' need some new lungs, roll me up a blunt-a-thon\nWhile I'm smoking out the bong getting sucked like a thumb\nBoy I\u2019m in a daze, tangerine haze\nI smoke so much KK they should've called it Juicy J\nBombay and lemonade, weed get the lemon taste\nNever hit the bong, let me demonstrate\n\nGo and roll it, chief and choking, marijuana, reefer smoking\nTried to sell me some under reggie, foot up in his colon\nCall the doctor, call the clinic, bullshit we staying with\nYour life ain't worth a motherfuckin' quarter but you payin' with it\nKhalifa kush a hundred pounds, that's a half a mil\nMemphis streets so eat this like a baby, like Enfamil\nLungs full of KK, have your mind on a runway\nBlow my high, motherfucker, I'mma shoot up like an AK\nMy white house higher than Willie Nelson\nOn dabs the wax is melting\nThese clouds are smoking, help me, I'm flying like Elroy Jetson\nI might bring a dispensary down in Tennessee\nWhole pounds of granddaddy, but he ain't no kin to me\nI\u2019m staying with the greens, like collard\n\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nI need it all the time, don't know what else to say\nIt's always on my mind, that's why every day\nI'm blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\nBlowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK, blowing KK\n\nBlowing Khalifa Kush\nBlowing Khalifa Kush\nBlowing Khalifa Kush\nBlowing Khalifa Kush"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsPull Up Lyrics\nA hit, good one Richard\n\nWhen I'm in L.A., pedal to the floor, mane\nYour bitch in my face, she must be a hoe, mane\nMoney in the way, I can't see my floor, mane\nPull up, 'Ventador, ayy, watch my doors, mane\nWhen I'm in L.A., pedal to the floor, mane\nYour bitch in my face, she must be a hoe, mane\nMoney in the way, I can't see my floor, mane\nPull up, 'Ventador, ayy, watch my doors, mane\n\nYour bitch on my line, she hit me every day\n'Bout them dollar signs, always gettin' paid\nBad bitch in New York, bad bitch in L.A\nSaid I gotta go, she want me to stay\nBy the pound, bitch I blow it by the pound\n'Specially when I'm outta town\nAin't my gang? You not allowed\nGet a chick and lock her down\nAin't hot, think we got it now\nYour bitch in the lost and found\nStarted small, we bossin' now\nNot a sound\nYou might also like\nShe wan' smoke my dope, ayy\nLet her smoke my dope, ayy\nFuck her in her ghost, yeah\nPull off in a Ghost, yeah\nI don't know 'bout you, yeah\nOne thing that I know, ayy\nThat I got the dough, yeah\nThat I got the dough, ayy\n\nWhen I'm in L.A., pedal to the floor, mane\nYour bitch in my face, she must be a hoe, mane\nMoney in the way, I can't see my floor, mane\nPull up, 'Ventador, ayy, watch my doors, mane\nWhen I'm in L.A., pedal to the floor, mane\nYour bitch in my face, she must be a hoe, mane\nMoney in the way, I can't see my floor, mane\nPull up, 'Ventador, ayy, watch my doors, mane\n\nMoney in the bank, money in the safe\nGot my business straight, now I'm switchin' states\n(Now I'm switchin' states)\nNow I'm shinin' on 'em, now I win the race\nNow these bitches chase, now these niggas hate\nBut these chips I chase\nGas in my joint, gas in my tank\nHit it once, hyperventilate\nI do what I want, fuck what they say\nWhat you think? Bitch it's Taylor Gang\nShe wan' smoke my dope, ayy\nLet her smoke my dope, ayy\nFuck her in her ghost, yeah\nPull off in a Ghost, yeah\nI don't know 'bout you, yeah\nOne thing that I know, ayy\nThat I got the dough, yeah\nThat I got the dough, ayy\n\nWhen I'm in L.A., pedal to the floor, mane\nYour bitch in my face, she must be a hoe, mane\nMoney in the way, I can't see my floor, mane\nPull up, 'Ventador, ayy, watch my doors, mane\nWhen I'm in L.A., pedal to the floor, mane\nYour bitch in my face, she must be a hoe, mane\nMoney in the way, I can't see my floor, mane\nPull up, 'Ventador, ayy, watch my doors, mane"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsCalifornia Lyrics\n\nI\u2019m just smokin a trippy stick on this one\nOG Hash Oil\n\nRoll a joint, roll another one\nWhen it's all said and done\nI'll be at the top bitch\nCause I hustle a lot\nThem cars, we pulling 'em off the lot\nDon't even test drive it before I cop\nJust boarded a yacht\nWe're at the craps table in Vegas\nThe dealer saying how he admiring my watch\nI'm placing my wager\nDon't even care how much paper I blow\nCause how to get this money and stay on\nA couple things that I know\nI'm blowing that stink by the O\nMy weed so strong I swear to god you would think it's cologne\nI go anywhere in the world and just make it my home\nStaying at the highest level but I ain\u2019t make it alone\nNow that my money right them suckers keep thinking I'm wrong\nBut I'm just switching lanes, foot off the brake and I'm gone\nIf you ain't talking money homie, you can't get a call\nCause this a muthafuckin life that you can't live at all\nI'm getting high while I drive, I ain't thinking of y'all...\nYou might also like\nI just wanna ride in my ride with my top down\nAnd smoke weed with my niggas\nI just wanna ride in my ride with my top down\nAnd smoke weed with my niggas\n\nStill rolling weed on my XXL\nOnly difference is that's me on the cover\nOnce in a while call my little sister and tell her I love her\nCause shit can get crazy in this industry\nMost of your friends become your enemies\nThat's why I stay down with the ones that's been with me\nThe niggas who started and they down to ride to the end with me\nMake sure the positive energy keep flowing\nAll the weed keep rolling\nAnd all of us keep getting high, the sky\nWe gonna keep from falling\nNiggas keep hating, but baby I'mma keep ballin'\nA lot of y'all turned fake, cause you found out what I make\nNow I'm buying estates\nGoing on private island vacations\nFlying on private planes\nI'm cool with the pilot, he let me roll something\nPut on a movie, let my girl watch it\nAt the dealer, high, lookin' at that Ferrari options\nJust an everyday life, when you young and bossin'\nI just wanna ride in my ride with my top down\nAnd smoke weed with my niggas\nI just wanna ride in my ride with my top down\nAnd smoke weed with my niggas\n\nIt's a cohesive thing\nBut the focus is still getting my thing out there\nAnd to have people understand\nThis is the world that we're creating\nAnd it doesn't exist without all of us"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsRoll Up Lyrics\nI roll up\nI roll up\nI roll up\nShawty I roll up\nI roll up\nI roll up\n\nIt's your anniversary isn't it\nAnd your man ain't acting right\nSo you packin\u2019 your Damier luggage up callin\u2019 my cell phone, try and catch a flight\nYou know one thing straight, I\u2019ll be there girl whenever you call me\nWhen you at home that's your man, soon as you land you say that's all me\nBut shit ain't all G with him no more, you ain't entertained\nSince I met you a couple months ago you ain't been the same\nNot sayin I\u2019m the richest man alive but I\u2019m in the game\nAs long as you keep it 100 I'mma spend this change\nWhenever you need me\nWhenever you want me\nYou know you can call me, I\u2019ll be there shortly\nDon\u2019t care what your friends say, cause they don't know me\nI can be your best friend, and you be my homie\nI ain't gonna flex, I\u2019m not gonna front\nYou know if I ball, then we all gonna stunt\nSend her my way, she ain't gotta hold up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up, I roll up, I roll up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up, I roll up, I roll up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up\nYou might also like\nI try to stay out your business\nBut on the real, you\u2019re so obvious\nAnd if you keep fitting me in your plans and fuckin' up, your man's gonna catch onto us\nThat white sand surrounding us\nHe be handcuffing, he should work for them officers\nIf you rolling I got a spot where I can put you on this medical, and send you home doctored up\nYou wanna ride with me cause you say that he boring\nWake up you rollin\u2019 weed, cooking eggs in the morning\nAin't scared to spend this money I know I\u2019ll make more of it\nFirst you was in the sky, now you say you in orbit\n\nWhenever you need me\nWhenever you want me\nYou know you can call me, I\u2019ll be there shortly\nDon\u2019t care what your friends say, cause they don't know me\nI can be your best friend, and you be my homie\nI ain't gonna flex, I\u2019m not gonna front\nYou know if I ball, then we all gonna stunt\nSend her my way, she ain't gotta hold up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up, I roll up, I roll up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up, I roll up, I roll up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up\n\nNo matter where I am\nNo matter where you are\nI\u2019ll be there when its over baby\nCause I was there from the start\nNo matter if I\u2019m near\nDon\u2019t matter if you're far\nAll you do is pick the phone up lady\nAnd I\u2019ll be there when you call\nWhenever you need me\nWhenever you want me\nYou know you can call me, I\u2019ll be there shortly\nDon\u2019t care what your friends say, cause they don't know me\nI can be your best friend, and you be my homie\nI ain't gonna flex, I\u2019m not gonna front\nYou know if I ball, then we all gonna stunt\nSend her my way, she ain't gotta hold up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up\nWhenever you need me\nWhenever you want me\nYou know you can call me, I\u2019ll be there shortly\nDon\u2019t care what your friends say, cause they don't know me\nI can be your best friend, and you be my homie\nI ain't gonna flex, I\u2019m not gonna front\nYou know if I ball, then we all gonna stunt\nSend her my way, she ain't gotta hold up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up, I roll up, I roll up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up, I roll up, I roll up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up\nI roll up, I roll up\nWhenever you call baby I roll up"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsTaylor Gang Lyrics\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nYou know I'm reppin' Taylors\nAll my weed from Cali so you know I\u2019m smokin' flavors\nAin't fuckin with blunts, you know we only smokin' papers\nAnd I throw it up so that you know just what my gang is\nMothafuck a hater\n\nLeft the crib with 10 grand, bought a hundred pair\nI\u2019m the coach, I can show you how to be a player\n5\/8 is the fitted, bitches love my hair\nCamo shorts go with anything I wanna wear\nThey let me in the club, fuck a dress code\nMe and all my niggas rollin' up the best smoke\nOG Kush from the West Coast\nOh you down to fuck? Shorty let's go\nDiamonds in my chain, niggas trying to steal my lane\nChronic in my brain bitch, I\u2019m reppin' Taylor Gang\nSmoke 'til I\u2019m insane, drinking til' I\u2019m throwing up\nOnly papers if you Taylor\u2019d nigga throw it up\nHigh socks, low cuts\nSmell that good weed, then you know it's us\nThat yellow car pulling up\nThem niggas ain't high so they ain't close to us\nDown to fly, yeah, two fingers and hold em up\nYou might also like\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nYou know I\u2019m reppin\u2019 Taylors\nAll my weed from Cali so you know I\u2019m smokin' flavors\nAin't fuckin with blunts, you know we only smokin\u2019 papers\nAnd I throw it up so that you know just what my gang is\nMothafuck a hater\n\nBought a crib like Scarface's, this is my world\nAll my niggas down to bang but we can try words\nSmoking ounces to the head 'til my mind twirls\nI\u2019m the mayor and my bitch look like a flag girl\nTopic of discussion, talk shit cause they bitches love us\nPlus them niggas suckas, I got that in living color\nAll my cars are different colors, all my broads are different colors\nAll I do is fuck 'em once and I don't call or give \u2018em numbers\nRo-lex, more, sex\nGood, weed, no, stress\nRun my town, arms, chest\nLift, weights, Bow-flex\nThrow your set up, what you rep when you twistin' ya fingers?\nReal recognize real and my nig, you a stranger\nGot a bank full of scrilla, a brain full of papers\nGot a phone full of hoes, and a gang full of Taylors\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\n(And that was the long laugh on y'all bitchass niggas)\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nYou know I\u2019m reppin\u2019 Taylors\nAll my weed from Cali so you know I\u2019m smokin' flavors\nAin't fuckin with blunts, you know we only smokin\u2019 papers\nAnd I throw it up so that you know just what my gang is\nMothafuck a hater\n\nYou see me out, I rep my gang, used to serve that John McCain\nThat John McCain, hold up, they don't know my name?\nChevy (who?) Chevy (who?) look at all that shit them dollars do\nGettin' all this money with you know who, it's Taylor Gang over you\nWe poppin' bottles gang signs, all my niggas' gang signs\nRollin up gang signs, niggas trippin', bang time\nHold up, what they say 'bout us?\nSame niggas gotta get the okay bout stuff\nThey ain't in the same league, they don\u2019t play like us\nNo sticks, no seeds, keep that rolled up\nBang on them hoes, we does that\nSocket work, I just had a plug for that\nGet your Taylor on, hold whatever you rep\nThrowin up the gang, 4800 still reppin' the set\nGot these niggas trippin\u2019, and these bitches too\nThey just haters though, no matter what we do\nWhat up cuz, on the left side\nIt's Taylor Gang, and that's or die\nChevy!\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nTaylor, Gang, Taylor, Gang\nYou know I\u2019m reppin\u2019 Taylors\nAll my weed from Cali so you know I\u2019m smokin' flavors\nAin't fuckin with blunts, you know we only smokin\u2019 papers\nAnd I throw it up so that you know just what my gang is\nMothafuck a hater"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsOn My Level Lyrics\nHahah, say Jim\n\nIt\u2019s the champagne pourin\u2019, big joint rollin\u2019\nBombay sippin\u2019, no blunt smokin'\nBad bitch gettin\u2019, thick, and she got some friends with her\nI take \u2018em out, pour shots of liquor\nDrinkin' out the bottle, smilin' in all my pictures\nThe marijuana loud so them hoes follow like Twitter\nNigga you know everything Taylor\nDon\u2019t rush to the bar, fool, if you ain't got no paper, that\u2019s the rules\nHigh as fuck, sloppy drunk when I\u2019m passin' through\nRollin\u2019 doobies up, your ho who we pass \u2018em to\nHit the club, spend this money up\nRoll another one, drink, act a fool, that's what I have to do\n\nSee I've been drinking champagne, all night\nNever worry bout a damn thing, y\u2019all might\nHomie I\u2019m on my level (yeah) I'm on my level (yeah)\nI\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\nSo let me take one shot, to the brain\nAnd I order three more shots, I\u2019m going in\nAyy, I\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\nI\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\nYou might also like\nSpent a couple dollars on my engine\nMotor roaring when I back out the garage\nGin got me drunk as fuck stumbling out the bar\nPlus I\u2019m struggling tryna find the keys to my car\nCause I be going hard\nRoll the camera, life just like a movie, I\u2019m the star\nWish you was in my position, you too broke to play the part\nOf course I keep some bad women\nWith me in the back, sippin' Ros\u00e9 with some hash twistin\u2019\nAll about a dollar, my team into cash gettin\u2019\nStraight outta the 'Burgh where we drink and we smash niggas\nSo when I say I\u2019m balling, that don\u2019t mean that I\u2019m playing, mayne\nAll my diamonds talking, you can see what they saying, mayne\n\nSee I've been drinking champagne, all night\nNever worry bout a damn thing, y\u2019all might\nHomie I\u2019m on my level (yeah) I'm on my level (yeah)\nI\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\nSo let me take one shot, to the brain\nAnd I order three more shots, I\u2019m going in\nAyy, I\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\nI\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\n\nIn the middle of the night, early in the mornin\u2019\nFrom the streets to the sheets with some freaks, I ain't yawnin'\nI'm wide awake, we ain't eatin' and we ain't sleepin'\nThese bitches so high, man, we ain't even speakin\u2019\nWe just freakin\u2019, you rollin\u2019 with Short Dog, baby\nShe was high on that pill so I fucked your lady\nCome to my house, I give \u2018em everything they want and\nI might not do it, but I'll give it to ya women\nCocaine, mushrooms, ecstasy, GHB, marijuana\nShe can suck it if she wanna\nI got tequila, Ciroc, and two freaky friends\nAnd it's a Wednesday night, this ain't the weekend\nSee I've been drinking champagne, all night\nNever worry bout a damn thing, y\u2019all might\nHomie I\u2019m on my level (yeah) I'm on my level (yeah)\nI\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\nSo let me take one shot, to the brain\nAnd I order three more shots, I\u2019m going in\nAyy, I\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\nI\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\n\nMan I\u2019m high as fuck, man I swear I\u2019m on my level\nMan I\u2019m sloppy drunk, man I swear I'm on my level\nI finna pass out, man I swear I'm on my level\nA nigga get smashed out, my nig' I swear I\u2019m on my level\nMan I\u2019m high as fuck, man I swear I\u2019m on my level\nMan I\u2019m sloppy drunk, man I swear I'm on my level\nI'm finna pass out, man I swear I'm on my level\nA hater get smashed out, my nig' I swear I\u2019m on my level\n\nSee I've been drinking champagne, all night\nNever worry bout a damn thing, y\u2019all might\nHomie I\u2019m on my level (yeah) I'm on my level (yeah)\nI\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\nSo let me take one shot, to the brain\nAnd I order three more shots, I\u2019m going in\nAyy, I\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)\nI\u2019m on my level (yeah) I\u2019m on my level (yeah)"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsBlack and Yellow (G-Mix) Lyrics\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow (G-Mix!)\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\n\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nEverything I do, yeah I do it big\nYeah, uh-huh, screamin' that's nothin'\nWhen I pulled off the lot: that's stuntin'\nReppin' my town when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamond, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\n\nBig Snoop Dogg and Wiz Khalifa\nSee on the West Coast I'm the big chiefa\nThe Grim Reaper, maybe that\nBring me back, yellow 'Lacs, Steeler logo in the back\nWe bangin' out, that Taylor Gang\nDub to your face, baby 'til you say my name\nDon't get your clique served, so much black and yellow\nYou would think I was from Pittsburgh, in turn, get your'n\nYou might also like\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nEverything I do, yeah I do it big\nYeah, uh-huh, screamin' that's nothin'\nWhen I pulled off the lot: that's stuntin'\nReppin' my town when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamond, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\n\nI'm a bumblebee lit up like a Christmas tree\nDrinkin' Hennessey Black, I'm from Tennessee\nJuicy J make the way on my own two\nQuarter mil' for the Phantom, bitch I own you\nAnd they go for e'ry chick that I'm fuckin' with\nBlack and yellow bitches all up on me, yeah I dig\nIn they purse, gotta get that reimburse\nOn them bills and that purple pint of syrup\nAnd I stay Louis'd down to the socks\nRings and watch, weed and Glock\nBeans to pop\nMy pants swole with them rubber band knots\nI'm gettin' old but them rubber bands not, nigga\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nEverything I do, yeah I do it big\nYeah, uh-huh, screamin' that's nothin'\nWhen I pulled off the lot: that's stuntin'\nReppin' my town when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamond, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\n\nYou can catch me in my Lamborghini, black and yellow, black and yellow\nI can rock it on the beat or (a cappella, a cappella)\nUh-uh, sideways in the turning lane (Turning lane, yeah)\nFire flame, I be burnin' mane (Burnin' mane, yeah)\nTeddy Pain 'bout to hurt the game (Game)\nTook a break for a while, I been learnin' things (Ooh)\nI learned how to tell a nigga \"Fuck you then\"\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow, all I do is fuckin' win (Win)\nI told y'all (Told y'all), and now I'm on\nYou thought it was over (Over), you thought I was gone (Gone)\nI'm goin' in, you gon' have to let me, have to let me\nBack from the dead like I'm Makaveli, Makaveli (Boom, ooh-ooh)\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nEverything I do, yeah I do it big (Ooh)\nYeah, uh-huh, screamin' that's nothin'\nWhen I pulled off the lot: that's stuntin'\nReppin' my town when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamond, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow (Yeah)\n\nBlack and yellow, all black and yellow\nSee me now they treatin' me like I'm somebody special\nSmokin' on that good, know it's me soon as they smell it\nYou could chill, I'm the one who get it, not the one who sellin'\nAll grind every day (Day), I'm ballin', I can't help it\nNiggas on that bullshit, my pockets full of Celtics\nAnd them niggas hatin' on us, get our best wishes\nIn the club you ain't even on the guest list, bitch\nSound like you need to get your weight up\nGo to sleep rich and count another million when I wake up\nUm, they wonderin' how I do my thing\nTwo words,Taylor Gang\nRemix, G-shit (G-Shit)\nThis champagne's poured, nigga the weed's lit (Weed's lit)\nLil mama's clothes fallin' like the leaves in the fall (Fall)\nAin't worried 'bout your friends so bring 'em all (Ha-ha)\n\nYeah, uh-huh, you know what it is\nEverything I do, yeah I do it big\nYeah, uh-huh, screamin' that's nothin'\nWhen I pulled off the lot: that's stuntin'\nReppin' my town when you see me you know everything\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nI put it down from the whip to my diamond, I'm in\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow\nBlack and yellow, black and yellow"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsLit (Remix) Lyrics\nYeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah\n\nOoh, ooh\nWe don't put it on in the crib if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't even pull up to the club in it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't smoke, won't pass, won't hit it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nDon't spend no time on a bitch if she ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWe don't put it on in the crib if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't even pull up to the club in it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't smoke, won't pass, won't hit it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nDon't spend no time on a bitch if she ain't fire\nYou might also like\nLet's get to the basics, let's get to the basics (get to the basics)\nI'm rollin' a J up, I'm lovin' the fragrance (lovin' the fragrance)\nI'm hardly on time 'cause my mind is where space is (my mind is where space is)\nBut I always on grind 'cause that's how my fam raised me (how my fam raised me, how my fam raised me)\nThink I got problems, say that I'm crazy (say that I'm crazy)\nLove marijuana, smoke on the daily (smoke on the daily)\nSmoke with my mama, roll one for my lady (one for my lady, one for my lady)\nBlow the whole pound now, came up from an eighty (up from an eighty)\nI'm lettin' the top down, and countin' them faces (countin' them faces)\nI'm blowin' the smoke out, exhalin' the vapors (exhalin' the vapors)\nI'm smokin' in public, they stare in amazement (they stare in amazement)\nI'm lightin' that bomb up, it's takin' me places (takin' me places)\n\nOoh, ooh\nWe don't put it on in the crib if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't even pull up to the club in it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't smoke, won't pass, won't hit it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nDon't spend no time on a bitch if she ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWe don't put it on in the crib if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't even pull up to the club in it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't smoke, won't pass, won't hit it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nDon't spend no time on a bitch if she ain't fire\nI pull up foreign, lil' baby foreign\nI let her drive when it get boring, I lay back smoking, ooh yeah\nFog up these windows, fog up these windows\nGirl, first we were just smoking and then we're fucking (Lord)\nDrop her off, tell her good night\nGotta go get my money right\nOG Louis thirteen on me\nDon\u2019t pass me that mid, homie\nJudge gave my nigga life\nHe took the bitch, still didn't snitch homie\nNiggas quick to claim they real never been through nothing\nHad to keep my distance from these bustas (From these bustas)\nFuck her one time, I won't never trust her (I won't never trust her)\nShe got attached to these real wings (Real wings)\nDeleting all her texts while I roll a whole\n\nOoh, ooh\nWe don't put it on in the crib if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't even pull up to the club in it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't smoke, won't pass, won't hit it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nDon't spend no time on a bitch if she ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWe don't put it on in the crib if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't even pull up to the club in it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nWon't smoke, won't pass, won't hit it if it ain't fire\nOoh, ooh\nDon't spend no time on a bitch if she ain't fire\nLet's go (Let's go)\nLet's go (Let's go)\nLet's get it (Let's get it)\nHaha\n\nRoll up my weed as soon as the day start\nGet me a pound and I break it apart\nKush on my clothes, smell the green in my car\nAin't coming close, you smell me from afar\nTime after time, I keep smoking that herb\nJoint after joint, I must be on the verge\nOf overdosing, I be on that loud\nSpeeding me up, while I'm slowing you down\nI just got back from an overseas trip\nSmoking with Ty, he got me high as shit\nCause we keep nothing but good in our J\nRepping our gang and we mob everyday\nBreak down an ounce, put it right on a tray\nAin't saving nothing, we smoke everything\nLight up a joint, let it stink up the place\nOr hit the bong, blow the smoke in your face\n\nI'ma get money, nigga, I'ma get money\nI'm a real nigga so I'ma keep it real\nAnd I love getting high\n(love getting high)\nAnd I love getting high\n(love getting high)\nI'ma get money, nigga, I'ma get money\nI'm a real nigga so I'ma keep it real\nAnd I love getting high\n(love getting high)\nAnd I love getting high\n(love getting high)\n\nBreak it down and roll another one, I could get anything I want\nI told her \"You should bring a friend for the crew\" (friend for the crew)\nHear 'em talk but they ain't want it though, I'm in the Hall of Fame of smoke\n'Cause everybody that I'm with, get high too (get high too)\nOnly rolling in a Wiz Khalifa paper (Khalifa paper)\nTaylor Gang G Pen, smell the vapor (smell the vapor)\nTake it to the head before I walk up to the plane\nI'll probably get so fucking high\nWon't even know my fucking name\nYou got to be a pro, if you wanna get this blow\nNever inhale, teach you how to hit this smoke\nAnd I'm never running out of it (running out of it)\nKush smoke, got a lot of it (got a lot of it)\nSmoke like we hit the lottery (hit the lottery)\nSeen Snoop, he was proud of me (he was proud of me)\nWon't go broke 'cause I never spend (never spend)\nIf them hoes don't smoke, don't let 'em in (don't let 'em in)\n\nI'ma get money, nigga, I'ma get money\nI'm a real nigga so I'ma keep it real\nAnd I love getting high\n(love getting high)\nAnd I love getting high\n(love getting high)\nI'ma get money, nigga, I'ma get money\nI'm a real nigga so I'ma keep it real\nAnd I love getting high\n(love getting high)\nAnd I love getting high"}
{"text":"15 ContributorsStarted From The Bottom (Remix) Lyrics\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now my whole team fuckin' here\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now the whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now my whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now the whole team fuckin' here\n\nI done kept it real from the jump\nLivin' at my mama\u2019s house, we'd argue every month\nNigga, I was tryin' to get it on my own\nWorkin' all night, traffic on the way home\nAnd my uncle calling me like \"Where ya at?\nI gave you the keys told ya bring it right back\u201d\nNigga, I just think it's funny how it goes\nNow I\u2019m on the road, half a million for a show\nAnd we...\n\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now my whole team fuckin' here\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now the whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now my whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now the whole team fuckin' here\nYou might also like\nBoys tell stories about ya man\nSay I never struggled, wasn't hungry, yeah, I doubt it\nNigga, I could turn your boy into the man\nThere ain't really much I hear that's poppin' off without us\nNigga, we just want the credit where it's due\nI\u2019mma worry about me, give a fuck about you\nNigga, just as a reminder to myself\nI wear every single chain, even when I\u2019m in the house\nCause we...\n\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now my whole team fuckin' here\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now the whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now my whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now the whole team fuckin' here\n\nNo new niggas, nigga we don\u2019t feel that\nFuck a fake friend, where're your real friends at?\nWe don\u2019t like to do too much explainin'\nStory stays the same, I never changed it\nNo new niggas, nigga we don\u2019t feel that\nFuck a fake friend, where're your real friends at?\nWe don\u2019t like to do too much explainin'\nStory stay the same through the money and the fame\nCause we...\nCame in the game with no lane and then changed it\nThese fuck niggas'll say it in ten different ways\nThen see you and smile in your face\nYou wanna meet up, name a time or a place\nI\u2019m smokin' that fire, my nigga you know that it\u2019s fire\nYou smell it as soon as I blaze\nBurnin' a pound, burnin' a pound, burnin' a pound\nYeah, it\u2019s goin' down, it\u2019s goin' down, it\u2019s goin' down\nStarted from the bottom now we here\nHad a dream bout a car, and went and got it in a year\nAll black trucks when we pull up to the Lear\nAll black Coupe, I look like Bruce when I\u2019m steerin'\nHope the homie Drake don\u2019t get pissed\nBut niggas never ever put your man on songs like this\nAnd I probably said no to it before\nBut I made 20 millions so we should probably go on tour\nAnd I just seen Waka the other day\nHe wasn\u2019t trippin', we just talked about the money we been makin'\nCause we\u2026\n\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now my whole team fuckin' here\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now the whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now my whole team here, nigga\nStarted from the bottom now we're here\nStarted from the bottom now the whole team fuckin' here"}
{"text":"61 Contributors\u2019Bout Me Lyrics\nWhat? Yeah\nHahahahaha\n\nWorried 'bout a hater? Not me (What?)\nTurnt to the max, no sleep (Yeah)\nSmoked a hundred joints to the face\nGive a fuck what a bitch nigga say (What?)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me ('Bout me, hahahahaha)\nEverything about me (What?)\n\nRollin' (Rollin'), pockets swollen (Pockets swollen)\nRidin' in it (Ridin' in it) like its stolen (Like it's stolen)\nWeeded (Weeded), hella conceited\nIf it ain't 'bout money, nigga, I don't need it (I don't need it)\nGot a hundred grand in my ashtray (Ashtray)\nSpend a hundred K on a bad day (Bad day)\nAnd I'm tatted like a cholo\nNigga, act crazy, my dogs go loco (Loco)\nKush got me movin' slo-mo (Slo-mo)\nWith my nigga Problem, that's my bro-bro (Bro-bro)\nCame in through the back door (Back door)\nTen mill this year on the low-low (Low-low)\nAnd I'm still smokin' pre-rolleds (Pre-rolleds)\nCristal, done fucking with the Clicquot (Clicquot)\nAnd my bank full of zeros (Zeros)\nYoung Wizzle get fly like a hero (Hero)\nYou might also like\nWorried 'bout a hater? Not me (Hahahahaha, what?)\nTurnt to the max, no sleep (Uh, yeah)\nSmoked a hundred joints to the face\nGive a fuck what a bitch nigga say (Man)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me (What?)\n\nProblem come with them hoes like a donut\nSold more weed than you yees ever smoked up\nDick make her choke up, like, for real\nNo rock, but I'm feeling like a mill off a pill\nDoor locked, we ain't lettin' all no more bros in (Bros in)\nBut fo' sho' we'll let y'all hoes in (Ha, hoes in)\n'Cause when we pullin' money out they be lovin' it (Lovin' it)\nGive her dick 'fore I give a bitch my government, what? (Government, what?)\nThat's eight, I got eight more (More)\nSuper-duper high, eighty-eighth floor (What?)\nUnzip this, that's eight more (Yeah)\nFuck a pussy and fuck rhyming (What?)\nWe gon' live forever, fuck dying (Yeah)\nGet it 'til I drop, fuck tryin' (Yeah)\nPedal to the metal, we flyin' (Whoa)\nIn the fast lane, yellin', \"Diamond\"\nWorried 'bout a hater? Not me (What?)\nTurnt to the max, no sleep (Yeah)\nSmoked a hundred joints to the face\nGive a fuck what a bitch nigga say (What?)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me (What?)\n\nYeah, everything about me\nYoung wild nigga, mouth full of gold teeth\nTreatin' BAPE.com like a swap meet (Swap meet)\nGoing crazy on a bitch until she knock-kneed (Knock-kneed)\nI'm in that hella fast whip, going top speed (Top speed)\nMake a mess in that pussy and then she mop clean (Mop clean)\nI drop racks and she drop jeans (Drop jeans)\nSmoke green as I lean, top dropping (Dropping)\nNigga, I am all about a buck, falling out a truck\nProlly with some hoes that I just met, and yeah, they all gon' fuck\nGot her man callin' up her homies, blowin' all 'em up\nTrying to figure out where his girl is, she probably toasted (Toasted)\nHuh? Like a champagne glass (Glass)\nSo much money that ain't a damn thing sad (Sad)\nDo my damn thing in my campaign ad (Ad)\nLet's get straight to it, don't let a damn thing pass\nNigga, what?\nWorried 'bout a hater? Not me (What?)\nTurnt to the max, no sleep (Yeah)\nSmoked a hundred joints to the face\nGive a fuck what a bitch nigga say (What?)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me ('Bout me)\nEverything about me (What?)"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsMezmorized Lyrics\nIt's young Khalifa man\nPaper Plane Gang\n5-0-1 young\nAy, shout out to my brother Spitta, man\nI just wanted to say that, yeah\nAnd your bitch could see this shit from across the street, nigga\nIt's pimpin' over here\nMacaroni\nTa-Ha!\nKush and Orange Juice, nigga\nWhat up Chevy\nJerm I see you\nCardo On The Beat\n\nUh, I don't love 'em\nI don't chase 'em, I duck 'em\nSmoke somethin'\nGo to a new state soon as I fuck 'em\nNiggas be pressed for pussy\nIt ain't nothing\nInstead of worrying about who that bitch fuckin'\nWhy don't you get you some money?\n9 times out of 10, she see me stuntin'\nGame running\nWanna know my hotel\nAnd who phone to ring when she coming\nI keep it a hundred\nGet love from the hoes, but it's\nMoney over bitches\nNothing above it\nLike the weed loud\nLike my engine when I speed up\nBitches holding they weave\nRolling trees\nWith they pretty feets up\nThem suckas often imitate\nBut they can't be us\nSo super high\nLook in the sky when you wanna see me bruh\nCut my speakers up\nDrowning out what the critics say, just\nContinue to smoke and remain G as fuck\nPolo socks match my Polo hat\nShe leave once, it's a known fact\nThat she ain't coming back\nNow Taylor Gang that\nYou might also like\nAnd ain't shit change\nBut the amount of horses in my motor\nWhen I switch lanes\nAnd I beat 'em blinding\nWith them diamonds in my big chain\nHeavy in the game, little homie\nI'm doing big things\nAnd them bitches, they mesmerized\nThey recognize\nI keep it so G (I keep it so G)\nGet you some money, fuckin' with me (fuckin' with me)\n\nI don't love 'em\nI don't chase 'em, I duck 'em\nTry to get paper\nHow the fucker don't know shit about her\nI take you up where it's cloudy\nAin't one them lames still rockin' Prada\nI go to Louie and blow a couple thousand\nOne of my baddest bitches\nRollin' up while I'm driving\nAnd she don't even smoke\nJust hit it once while she light it\nMy game tight, seal and sign it\nThem niggas just playing\nAin't really ballin'\nSaying they being honest\nClaiming that's your wife\nBut we can't call it\nShe all in my hotel suite\nAt 3 in the morning\nTaking her clothes off\nInhaling weed and coughing\nAin't her first time chiefing\nBut say she don't do this often\nSince I was 16\nI had all the intentions to keep it G\nTake niggas hoes\nAnd smoke hella trees with 'em\nAs for your team\nYou niggas in the stands, you just lookin'\nI'm a pro to these rookies\nAnd the plan is still paper over... pussy\nAnd ain't shit change\nBut the amount of horses in my motor\nWhen I switch lanes\nAnd I beat 'em blinding\nWith them diamonds in my big chain\nHeavy in the game, little homie\nI'm doing big things\nAnd them bitches they mesmerized\nThey recognize\nI keep it so G (I keep it so G)\nGet you some money, fuckin' with me (fuckin' with me)\n\nYeah nigga, this shit just don't sound cool\nThis what we go to sleep to, wake up to\nKush and Orange Juice nigga\nGot your bitch cooking them cheese eggs too\nGot paper in my pocket\nTaylor Gang what's up?\nSee y'all niggas man\nWe done fucked over 'em this year, it's a wrap\nHahahaha, yeah\nWe don't want no more sucker shit, ever"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsLet It Go Lyrics\nLet it go, let it go homie\nYou know we can see through them blinds homie\nAnd see through the truth and them lies homie\nJust let it go, let it go, let it go\nOh, oh (Uh, all niggas know what the fuck it is man)\nOh, oh (Young Khalifa man, hahahahaha)\n\nUh, I done stayed on top of my game, gained control of my lane\nPaid so much for my frames, put these lil' niggas to shame\nOrdered so many of them bottles\nSo many of them bottles, you'd think I'm insane\nAlready changed the game once\nI done told you but now I'ma do it and now I'ma do it again\nTell the club owners we need more sections\nI made these lil' niggas go cop they Rolexes\nYou get the venue, you gon' need more bouncers\nAnd tell the weed man we gon' need more ounces\nHundred grand in a rubber band\nUse to be the kid, now homie, I'm the man\nHundred grand in a rubber band\nUsed to be the kid, now homie, I'm the man\n\nLet it go, let it go homie\nYou know we can see through them blinds homie\nAnd see through the truth and them lies homie\nJust let it go, let it go, let it go\nLet it go, let it go homie\nYou know they can't see what we see homie\nDifference from the real and make believe homie\nSo let it go, let it go, let it go\nYou might also like\nLiving my life about peace\nSharing this money and tryna get all my niggas\nUp off of them streets\nUsed to look up to some niggas\nBut now it seem that it all come down to me\nMake sure my family gon' eat\nGrinding from up underneath\nNow they just say I'm a, now they just say I'm a beast\nAnd now all these haters looking at me pitifully\nCause I'm the shit, literally\nAnd I be stuntin' when I ride past my old school\nI say fuck the new car, I cop the old school\n\nLet it go, let it go homie\nYou know we can see through them blinds homie\nAnd see through the truth and them lies homie\nJust let it go, let it go, let it go\nLet it go, let it go homie\nYou know they can't see what we see homie\nDifference from the real and make believe homie\nSo let it go, let it go, let it go\n\nLet it go, let it go, let it go\nSo let them go, let them go, let them go\nLet them know\nLet them know, let them know\nThis time I feel like it's now or never, ain't going nowhere\nSo no matter what they say, I'll be here forever\nEven though some folks will make it so you can't win\nDon't need to take it on the chin\nRemember homie, you ain't even gotta hold it in\n\nLet it go, let it go homie\nYou know we can see through them blinds homie\nAnd see through the truth and them lies homie\nJust let it go, let it go, let it go\nLet it go, let it go homie\nYou know they can't see what we see homie\nDifference from the real and make believe homie\nSo let it go, let it go, let it go\n\nLet it go, let it go, let it go\nSo let them go, let them go, let them go\nLet them know\nLet them know, let them know\n\nO.N.I.F.C., TGOD"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsGangBang Lyrics\nThis one look like that one\nThat one match this one\nFuck it\nMoney, money, money\nIt's young Khalifa, man\nAnd I got money hoes money and hoes\nSick, money and hoes\n\nBig money talkin' to you\nMothafucker, that's cause big money brought it to you\nI be stuntin while them little niggas sayin nothin\nHigh ceilings high hoes\nHigh prices for my clothes\nAnd I dont even pay for it\nBarely know who made the shit\nMeet a bitch take a bitch\nStraight back to that big crib\nLet you roll some rapper weed\nPut you on some new shit\nHit this weed I show you how I do this man\nMy excuse is I'm in Cali so my smoke's highly exclusive\nAnd my bitch bad my moneys through the roof\nYour money short you lookin mad, you Danny Bonaduce\nBitch Im jumpin in my coup\nI'm rollin something that tastes like fruit\nAnd I hear them niggas talkin shit\nBut there' nothing that much that they can do\nWhen I got a bitch in your city\nYou should try when you see her\nNever trippin on no hoes\nNigga, what you thought we gettin money over here\nYou might also like\nI'm ballin hard, my niggas in the same gang\nI do it big my niggas do the same thing\nI'm throwin signs its lookin like I gang bang\nI'm on the team its lookin like I gang bang\nI'm rollin up my niggas smoke the same thing\nI'm smokin weed my bitch she smoke the same thing\nI'm throwin signs its looking like I gang bang\nI'm on the team its lookin like I gang bang\n\nI tell a bitch bow down\nTo a mothafuckin g ho\nI work hard I drink slow\nBut I never keep drinks low\nSmokey smokey, cause im a chief ho\nSippin on pinot grigio, richie ho greedy ho\nGot me everything like I copped me a genie ho\nMy car look like a building\nDiamonds dancin on my wrist\nBitch I'm 10 feet tall, when I'm standin on top of my dick\nYou a sucka ho sucka ho im success\nI feel like a million dollars, bitch im up next\nMoney in my hand I dont need no handout\nAnd they all got they hands up\nCause they fuck with me hands down (down down down)\nAnd the car I push got more tent than a campground (ground ground ground)\nAnd my picture is always on your bitch background\nLike pada, its just me and Cyhi\nYoung enough to be your son\nBut she call me big papa\nShe gave me her o nana\nThen I dissapear like ta-da\nSmokin on that tie-dye\nNow who the fuck gon stop us\nI'm ballin hard my niggas in the same gang\nI do it big my niggas do the same thing\nI'm throwin signs its lookin like I gang bang\nI'm on the team its lookin like I gang bang\nI'm rollin up my niggas smoke the same thing\nI'm smokin weed my bitch she smoke the same thing\nI'm throwin signs its looking like I gang bang\nI'm on the team its lookin like I gang bang\n\nYeaa thats right nigga\nProbably got your bitch in a trance\nI do it\nNiggas got me laughin that shit funny\nAnd my nigga Wiz got this shit ho"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsUp In It Lyrics\nDamn, we back in business\n\nUh, wakin' up the neighbors, you could hear the headboard shakin'\nI leave all your body parts achin'\nSpeedin' up the pace while I look right into your face\nYou tell me that's that good shit you're tastin'\nAnd I know you like it from the side\nBut tonight I'mma just unwind and let you ride and watch you take it\nCause I'm tryin' to get you so wet, I mean so wet\nIf there's a record for this shit then I'mma break it\nIt's goin' down no matter the place or time my car\nI got enough space\nThink anything you think you want, no prob I got enough cake\nAll up in it in the mornin', knowin' damn well that I had you up late\nAin't buyin' it you ain't spendin' it, you keep throwin' it back so I'm givin' it\n\nYou love when I get up in it\nYou love when I get, you love when I get\nYou love when I get up in it\nYou love when I get, you love when I get\nYou love when I get up in it\nYou love when I get, you love when I get\nYou love when I get up in it\nYou love when I get, you love when I get\nYou might also like\nWake up when I bake up that's just somethin' that I do\nPick your favorite sex scene, that's what I'm gon' do to you\nUp in my bed's where you probably belong\nGivin' you all that I got 'til it's gone\nSexy as fuck you still got them heels on\nFavorite position, we tryin' them all\nOnce I get in can't get out of my zone\nFuck you so good you won't pick up your phone\nAnd when your girlfriends or whoever do call\nYou fuckin' with me so you tell 'em you gone\nYou don't smoke so I break it down, you roll it up\nYou poke it out, your face down so I hold it up\nYou don't give a shit that my money so big I can't fold it up\nPlus I ain't tired 'til you finish, this ain't a race but I'm winnin'\n\nYou love when I get up in it\nYou love when I get, you love when I get\nYou love when I get up in it\nYou love when I get, you love when I get\n\nYou don't even gotta name a place where we can go\nCause we already goin', goin', goin'\nDon't nobody gotta ask or even got to know\nBaby we already goin', goin', goin'\nYou love when I get up in it\nYou love when I get, you love when I get\nYou love when I get up in it\nYou love when I get, you love when I get"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsWhen I\u2019m Gone Lyrics\nAnd they say all I rap about is bitches and champagne\nYou would too if every night you seen the same thing\nMoney wall to wall, young famous nigga, spend it all\nWhen you die you can't take it with ya\nBottle of Rose if I\u2019m drinking with ya\nCause most niggas is broke, they bank is injured\nThem bitches gonna ride with who they think\u2019s a winner\nAnd I'll be smiling in case they take a picture\nOh, I'm smoking weed, drinking liquor, make a hundred\nOn a show spend it all on my niggas\nWhen I go shopping I tell them pick one\n'Cause they was with me when nobody seen a vision\nAlways about my business, don\u2019t play the cards\nI talked to the niggas who dealed them, uhh\nRoyal flush, now look up them niggas and baby girl you see us, yeah\n\nI'm gonna spend it all why wait for another day?\nI'ma take all this money I own and blow it all away\n'Cause I can\u2019t take it when I\u2019m gone, gone, gone, gone\nNo I can't take it when I\u2019m gone, gone, gone\nI\u2019m gonna spend it all why wait for another day\nI\u2019ma take all this money I own and blow it all away\nCause I can\u2019t take it when I\u2019m gone, gone, gone, gone\nNo I can\u2019t take it when I\u2019m gone, gone, gone, gone, gone\nYou might also like\nHella hoes in my car, they wanna feel that maximum speed\nNever had an absence of weed\nTired of being at the bar, everything Louie V\nPlus the most exclusive tree in my jar\nMaking my bank, spending it all\nAnd that expensive shit you paid for, she had it on\nShe taking it off, most of these niggas just talk, ain't caking at all\nBack in the day money was short, I\u2019m making it taller\nYou know what I mean, some say it\u2019s a problem\nBlowings my greens, not saving my collards\nNo NBA, they say I\u2019m a baller\nLive for today, stunt like my father\n\nI'm gonna spend it all why wait for another day?\nI'ma take all this money I own and blow it all away\nCause I can\u2019t take it when I\u2019m gone, gone, gone, gone\nNo I can\u2019t take it when I\u2019m gone, gone, gone\nI\u2019m gonna spend it all why wait for another day\nI'ma take all this money I own and blow it all away\n'Cause I can't take it when I'm gone, gone, gone, gone\nNo I can\u2019t take it when I'm gone, gone, gone, gone, gone"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsThe Race Lyrics\nNothin' new\nCause this is exactly what I do (uh)\nWhat up E' (hahaha)\nGood weed's lit up on this one (yea)\nRidin' by myself\nYea, uh\n\nThe world turning, the weed burning\nThem haters talking, I keep earning\nKnow some who say life's a bitch\nWell I\u2019mma keep flirting\nAnd fuck that bitch for the money and Louis V purchases\nOld folks jock my car cause they know just what this is\nNiggas flexin\u2019 hard with no bars, they got weak service\nKeep verses, Mortal Kombat\nLook at my ring, if I ain't ballin\u2019 bitch then what you call that\nNothing but net, ain't back cause I never left\nI did everything right nigga better yet\nRolling bomb for the niggas that's around us\nSomething like a contractor, built it from the ground up\nNow just, twist up this weed\nRealize that you are in the presence of a G\nDon\u2019t fuck up my paper meaning my cheese\nOr the ones I use to roll up my trees\nFuck it, you know what I mean\nYou might also like\nI\u2019m riding round, smoking, my music up loud\nGotta do my thing, no disrespect to the niggas before me\nSome smile up in your face but then they hate on the low\nNow I just stunt on my own\nNow I just stunt on my own\nI\u2019m in a race, and taking the winner's place\nNo foot on the brakes\nOne of the best, homie that's what they call me\nIt\u2019s lonely at the top, ain't no company so\nNow I just stunt on my own\nNow I just stunt on my own\n\nSee me, when I\u2019m alone, wishing they could fuck with me\nMy ex calling my phone, wishing she could stunt with me\nBut I\u2019m just riding dawg, doing a buck fifty\nStunting like Jet Li, boat houses and jet skis\nThirty on the flight, ice like the Gretzky's\nMy dime pieces only recognize the best trees\nTreat \u2018em like I don\u2019t need \u2018em boy, you best believe\nYou in her face, I let her breathe\nFrom debated on, to waited on\nFrom hated on, to the nigga they put cake up on\nCause we are, young movie stars\nCause we are, young movie stars\nI\u2019m riding round, smoking, good music aloud\nGotta do my thing, no disrespect to the niggas before me\nSome smile up in your face but then they hate on the low\nNow I just stunt on my own\nNow I just stunt on my own\nI\u2019m in a race, and taking the winner's place\nNo foot on the brakes\nOne of the best, homie that's what they call me\nIt\u2019s lonely at the top, ain't no company so\nNow I just stunt on my own\nNow I just stunt on my own\n\n(Ooooooh, oooh, ooo-oo-oooooh)\n(Ooooooh, oooh, ooo-oo-oooooh)\n(Ooooooh, oooh, ooo-oo-oooooh)\n\nO-ooo-oh, now I just stunt on my own\nBitches ain't say shit to me\nBut now they won\u2019t leave me alone\nUsed to walk the other way\nBut now they all come to my home\nAnd they calling my phone, cause my paper is looong\nNothing, they ain't singing my song\nGet hired up, if they want then I bring them along\nWe flying up, no you won't need a ticket at all\nNeed a ticket at all, tell a bitch I\u2019ma ball\nAnd I\u2019ma buy a new crib for my niggas and all\nCause I remember days we\u2019d sit and pictured it all\nNigga swear I\u2019d leave or pictured I\u2019d fall\nCounting reasons why they hate, your bitch think I\u2019m a star\nCause we are, young, gifted\nNot to mention out here making muthafuckin millions\nYeah, I said it, muthafuckin millions\nGot my money up, I\u2019m in the building\nI\u2019m riding round, smoking, my music aloud\nGotta do my thing, no disrespect to the niggas before me\nSome smile up in your face but then they hate on the low\nNow I just stunt on my own\nNow I just stunt on my own\nI\u2019m in a race, and taking the winner's place\nNo foot on the brakes\nOne of the best, homie that's what they call me\nIt\u2019s lonely at the top, ain't no company so\nNow I just stunt on my own\nNow I just stunt on my own"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsIt\u2019s Nothin\u2019 Lyrics\nListen to this track, bitch!\nI built this family on loyalty\nHm-mm, uh\n\nCount another grip, smoke another zip\nLet them young niggas tell it, I be on my shit\nMake a 100K, spent it all today\nWhat can I say? My DNA is Givenchy\nWhat my swag is? Retarded, what I'm driving? Ferrari\nWhat I'm rocking? Armani, Gianni, Versace, huh\nFuck around and I'll buy one of you broke niggas\nMy change, insane, my chain, oh that thing?\n\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nStackin' cheese 'til my bread right, smokin' weed 'til my head right\nDid it all on my own so, I'ma spend all my bread like\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin' (Oh)\nStackin' cheese 'til my bread right, smokin' trees 'til my head right\nDid it all on my own so, I'ma spend all my bread like\nIt's nothin', it's nothin' (Yeah!) it's nothin', it's nothin' (Uh)\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin' (2 Chainz!) it's nothin'\nYou might also like\nMy hair longer than your girl, go shawty, it's your world\nSub-zero flow, when I spit, I see snow flurries\nScarface, all out, a-a-all I want in this world\nI mean all I want for lunch, is a blunt, and your girl\nIt ain't nothin' to me but it's somethin' to you\nCount money like it's somethin' to do\nSummertime, I'm like, \"Fuck the roof\", winter time, I'm in 'Lo boots\nAnd uh, it's nothin', I like bein' high because it's a better view\nAnd, I told your ho my chain so cold, it's on Theraflu, uh\n\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nStackin' cheese 'til my bread right, smokin' weed 'til my head right\nDid it all on my own so, I'ma spend all my bread like\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin' (Oh)\nStackin' cheese 'til my bread right, smokin' trees 'til my head right\nDid it all on my own so, I'ma spend all my bread like\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\n\nYou niggas chasin' money, I'm on top of it\nIf it ain't money, don't know what the topic is\nDon't come out 'til next year, that mean I'm rockin' it\nOrder thirty-seven bottles, call it poppin' shit\nGoddamn, what you on?\nA private plane, fuck you on?\nParty in south of France when it's cold\nUsed to rock all that old shit 'til it got old\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nStackin' cheese 'til my bread right, smokin' weed 'til my head right\nDid it all on my own so, I'ma spend all my bread like\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin' (Oh)\nStackin' cheese 'til my bread right, smokin' trees 'til my head right\nDid it all on my own so, I'ma spend all my bread like\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'\nIt's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin', it's nothin'"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsAss Drop Lyrics\nGoddamn, Goddamn\nHow the hell you get all that ass in them pants?\nHow you drinkin' and you ain't got no glass?\nAnd how you came in here and you ain't got no man, what\nDamn, to me you look perfect\nBend that ass over; let me see how you work it\nPoppin' and shakin', get on your knees hit the dirt\nGirl I go so deep in that pussy while he just hitting the surface\nWhat is you sayin'?\n\nDrop it down on it\nMade me get a couple bands drop it down on it\nMake you get a couple friends drop it down on it\nTurn around drop it down, drop it down on it\nDo it for a real nigga, do it for a boss\nDo somethin' for a boss, do somethin' for a real nigga\nGo and do somethin' for a boss\nDo somethin' for a boss, do somethin'\n\nYou got a ass make a nigga wanna buy a ring\nYou got a ass make a nigga spend errything\nYou got a ass make a nigga wanna buy a ring\nYou got a ass make a nigga spend errything\nIf you've got an ass like the girls in the videos\nGo and bring it my way\nAss so big it could swallow up a stripper pole\nI ain't playin', no I ain't playin'\nBust it down on me, I need it, throw it, a boss wanna see it\nJust give me a call and I'll beat it\nI'll be all where your seat is\nMary Jane got me moving slow\nI blow that by the (O, O, O, O...)\nUh\nYou might also like\nDrop it down on it\nMade me get a couple bands drop it down on it\nMake you get a couple friends drop it down on it\nTurn around drop it down, drop it down on it\nDo it for a real nigga, do it for a boss\nDo somethin' for a boss, do somethin' for a real nigga\nGo and do somethin' for a boss\nDo somethin' for a boss, do somethin'\n\nGot a fat ass\nGo on and shake that shit\nGot a fat ass\nGo on and shake that shit\nWhoa\nGot a fat ass\nGo on and shake that shit\nYou got a fat ass\nGo on and shake that shit\nDamn\n\nDrop it down on it\nMade me get a couple bands drop it down on it\nMake you get a couple friends drop it down on it\nTurn around drop it down, drop it down on it\nDo it for a real nigga, do it for a boss\nDo somethin' for a boss, do somethin' for a real nigga\nGo and do somethin' for a boss\nDo somethin' for a boss, do somethin'"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsMy Favorite Song Lyrics\nGone, gone, gone\nI'm ballin too my nigga\n\nWhen this song come on, I'm spending money\nPlay something I can spend some money to\nWhen this song come on, I'm spending money\nPlay something I can spend some money to\n\nHighly faded, but I'm highly paid so I just live my life\nThat shit you niggas tryna do, I guarantee I did it twice\nThey say life's a gamble, hit my joint and roll the dice\nWhen you living this high, you can't be afraid of heights\nBook my flight to Vegas, Will, 20 thou- to stay the night\nAnother 10 on champagne, my money long, I pay the price\nTired of niggas saying they in my gang 'cause dog, we ain't alike\nI'm throwing money, when I walk up in this bitch, they know it's money\nMoney in my arms, other table full of money\nPocket full of joints I rolled, dropping ashes on my clothes\nBalling super hard, smoking 'til I overdose\nHardly ever sober, bitch we party 'til it's over\n\nWhen this song come on, I'm spending money\nPlay something I can spend some money to\nWhen this song come on, I'm spending money\nPlay something I can spend some money to\nYou might also like\nNiggas always hating on me, talking 'bout I'm balling too\nGet your money up and quit your hating's what you oughta do\nI been going hard since I was young when I was in my teens\nI knew when I got older I'd be on, so now I do my thing\nSpending money, popping hella bottles, making niggas mad\nGoing places, rolling Js, I live the life you wish you had\nThrowing out dollars bills, putting shit on my tab\nGot a joint full of that OG, got a clique full of them OGs\n\nTrippy nigga hit the club, you know I be fucked up\nChasing after model chicks, tryna get my fucks up\nNiggas handcuffing hoes, but them niggas know what's up\nY'all came to the club together, but that ho gon' leave with us\nBreak out the blue dream, e'rybody rolling up\nWhere the lean? Where the cups? Ho, it's time to po' it up\nTell the owner we ain't leavin', we gon' buy the whole club\n(Now my dollars to the ceiling, and my card ain't got no limit)\n\nWhen this song come on, I'm spending money\nPlay something I can spend some money to\nWhen this song come on, I'm spending money\nPlay something I can spend some money to\nWe be in the clubs with all those motherfuckers\nAnd we spend more money than all of them niggas\nThem niggas who be thinkin' they hard\nAnd they think they're motherfuckin' this and that\nYeah, 30 racks bitch. On champagne motherfucker\nKeep them sparklers coming, what you doin?\nAnd them niggas be over there and they be quiet\nThat's why Juicy's with us nigga\n'Cause we spend 30 racks in the club"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsNo Sleep Lyrics\nLast night I let the party get the best of me\nWaking up in the morning, two hoes laying next to me\nPlus I heard an officer arrested me\nGood weed and cold drinks\nThat's the motherfucking recipe\nNigga and we roll deep, so deep\nIt's going down in this bitch; concrete\nWe gon' party all night, no sleep\nTell the owner them is all my guys\nSo tonight everything is on me\n\nThe drinks is on me\nThe bitches, the hotel, the weed is all free\nGet high, I mean so high we don't see the whole suite\nThen fly to a level where you gon' need your own key\nT\u2014G\u2014O\u2014D\n\nNo job and no sleeping\nLive it up like it's the weekend\nWhen the DJ play the right song\nGon' drink, gon' party all night long\nNo job and no sleeping\nLive it up like it's the weekend\nWhen the DJ play the right song\nGon' drink, gon' party all night long\nYou might also like\nLeaving from the club, now she wanna stay with us\nCame to spend it all, don't care what I'm paying for\nUsed to be too young, now I'm out here buying the bar\nEvery time I look up, it's another red cup\nBunch of niggas in the game, but they ain't playin' wit us\nThey ain\u2019t paying enough\nMan, them niggas ain't ballin'\nThey just laying it up\nSaying they does\nI'm just rolling hella weed up\nWhile on my way to the club\nI had to wait at the club\nBut now I don't\nCause everything is on me\n\nThe drinks is on me\nThe bitches, the hotel, the weed is all free\nGet high, I mean so high we see the whole street\nWe fly, I mean so fly we need a whole wing\nT\u2014G\u2014O\u2014D\n\nNo job and no sleeping\nLive it up like it's the weekend\nWhen the DJ play the right song\nGon' drink, gon' party all night long\nNo job and no sleeping\nLive it up like it's the weekend\nWhen the DJ play the right song\nGon' drink, gon' party all night long\nParty all day, party all night\nSay you wanna party, lets party alright\nI, party all day, party all night\nSay you wanna party, lets party alright\nI, party all day, party all night\nSay you wanna party, lets party alright\nI, party all day, party all night\nSay you wanna party, lets party alright, I\n\nNo job and no sleeping\nLive it up like it's the weekend\nWhen the DJ play the right song\nGon' drink, gon' party all night long\nNo job and no sleeping\nLive it up like it's the weekend\nWhen the DJ play the right song\nGon' drink, gon' party all night long\n\nParty all day, party all night\nSay you wanna party, let\u2019s party alright"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsFr Fr Lyrics\nYeah\n\nNigga for real, for real\nMy niggas is real, for real\nI'm in the field for real\nI'm 'bout my check for real\nI'm 'bout my respect for real\nMy diamonds are crystal clear\nI'm shining from ear to ear\n\nRoll with the paper, see them lames later\nCan't save her, her nigga stepped out, now she sayin' what she really think\nRollin' up pounds of dank\nOpen accounts, no matter where we at, smoking there and back\nEyes barely open, not never smokin'\nHit it once and she choke\n2 K's, that means it's potent\nCan't overdose but my strain explosive\nTrained to go, my chain, it glow\nEverything you see, I paid for\nGang or croak\n\nNigga for real, for real\nMy niggas is real, for real\nI'm in the field, for real\nI'm 'bout my check, for real\nI'm 'bout my respect, for real\nMy diamonds are crystal clear\nI'm shining from ear to ear\nNigga for real, for real\nMy niggas is real, for real\nI'm in the field, for real\nI'm 'bout my check, for real\nI'm 'bout my respect, for real\nMy diamonds are crystal clear (they clear)\nI'm shining from ear to ear\nYou might also like\nI'm shinin' from ear to ear\nStand my ground, I ain't showin' no fear\nI done came up like the top of the stairs\nThese niggas hate 'cause they cannot compare, aw shit\nI'm in the crowd with the mosh pit\nI hit the stage and they show tits\nI'm in the game, I can't forfeit\nHonestly, I'ma make more hits\nHop in the coupe and I swerve into lady\nShe gave me top because I am the greatest\nI stayed the same and then came all the changes\nYou wanna know what it's like to be famous\nRollin' up weed in public (in public)\nSkies be on all of that fuck shit (that fuck shit)\nI'm ballin' bitch, like I got buckets (got buckets)\nAnd they hate 'cause we stunt like nothing, biatch! (woah)\n\nNigga for real, for real (for real)\nMy niggas is real, for real (for real)\nI'm in the field for real (for real)\nI'm 'bout my check for real (for real)\nI'm 'bout my respect for real (let's go)\nMy diamonds are crystal clear (uh-huh)\nI'm shining from ear to ear (cash, cash, woah)\nNigga for real, for real\nMy niggas is real, for real\nI'm in the field for real\nI'm 'bout my check for real\nI'm 'bout my respect for real\nMy diamonds are crystal clear\nI'm shining from ear to ear\nYeah\nI'm 'bout the bag, for real\nI'm 'bout that cash, for real\nShorty got ass, for real (pssh)\nIf it's no mask, it's for real\nI'm on that gas, for real\nMy niggas trap for real\nRunnin the game\nYou speak of me, put \"Big Homie\" in front of my name\nFor every one of you lames\nY'all unoriginal niggas, they all sound the same\nI stay ballin', money like a faucet\nIt stay runnin', runnin', runnin'\nI can't call it, got the bug\nI think they caught it\nI'm with bosses\n\nNigga for real, for real\nMy niggas is real, for real\nI'm in the field for real\nI'm 'bout my check for real\nI'm 'bout my respect for real\nMy diamonds are crystal clear\nI'm shining from ear to ear\nNigga for real, for real\nMy niggas is real, for real\nI'm the field for real\nI'm 'bout my check for real\nI'm 'bout my respect for real\nMy diamonds are crystal clear\nI'm shining from ear to ear"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsLook What I Got On Lyrics\nHold up\nI done made eighty grand a nigga didn't even show up\nNiggas used to talk about the way that I dress\nNow I see them on they videos pants legs rolled up\nWasn't even thinking bout getting a Rolex\nNow we got a Rolex and the whole thing froze up\nNow you takin pictures of this shit\nWalk around getting bitches off this shit\nThey just talkin but I'm living off this shit\nKenny Powers really feel like I'm the shit\nMC Hammer pants I feel like I'm legit\n9\/11 not the day but thats the whip\nTaylor Gang they be on that shit\nAlways on the grind tryna keep my mind on the finer things\nI gotta get that'll make a nigga rich\nLotta new kicks lotta new fits\nLotta swag that you see on me that'll take a nigga bitch\nThey get dressed like I get up and go\nGrabbing all my shit up and roll\nWalked in and lit up the store\nTook a dab and roll another joint now I lit up for show\nAnd my bitch is like a pin-up if I like it then I buy it\nMost of the time the shit is free and they just in it\nMajor paper and I'm winning and my outfits sick\nI'm a walk up in this bitch and I'm a make a nigga spit up\nYou might also like\nCan't get this from the store\nThat's a one of one that mean they don't make it no more\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\nNever seen it before\nTry spending what I'm spending and you'll probably go broke\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\n\nHave you ever seen a nigga dress good as me\nHave you ever seen a nigga go shopping for the furs\nTurn around right where the leathers be\nHave you ever seen a nigga with some shit wonder where he get it\nWhen you try to get the thing in the store\nHave you ever seen a nigga lookin' crazy then the motherfucker\nIn it but the price you don't even know\nNever seen nobody walk up in the store without no money\nWhen they come out they hands are full of hella bags\nNever seen nobody come into the store and get the treatment that I get\nI guess that mean I spend hella bands\nHave you ever got your suit tailor'd by the man\nHave you ever got your suit flown in by the man\nYou don't get that kind of money you don't understand\nYou ain't ever touch a hundred grand\nYou just say you do\nLike a lame would do\nMy Taylor Gang niggas a fatal crew\nWe taking your paper and rocking the latest\nYou try to hate but my clique hater proof\nMy closet go on for a day or two\nAin't one of them niggas who switch the shit it up\nNo I'm staying true like a player do\nSo show me my tab and who to pay it to\nFuck you and them niggas you came with too\nCan't get this from the store\nThat's a one of one that mean they don't make it no more\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\nNever seen it before\nTry spending what I'm spending and you'll probably go broke\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\n\nOld heads look at what I got on\nYoung niggas look at what I got on\nBroke niggas look at what I got on\nRich niggas look at what I got on\n\nAnd I'm floating, my windows open\nMy eyes all low cause I'm off that potent\nThey jacking my style I got that notion\nCan't even get it, you on that slow shit\nPull up in it, they like \"oh shit\"\nHella expensive, smoking explosive\nWhere did he get them? Nobody knows it\nDon't even go there\nCan't get this from the store\nThat's a one of one that mean they don't make it no more\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\nNever seen it before\nTry spending what I'm spending and you'll probably go broke\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on\nI be like look what I got on, look at what I got on"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsMary 3x Lyrics\nNigga like me be smokin' while I'm drivin'\nGettin' higher than the Bee Gee's, sayin' we both just stayin' alive and\nWatchin' the time go by, climbin'\nTold you I\u2019d get enough hash, to make a mountain\nAnd you could sit right on your ass, doubtin'\nWhile I'm somewhere rollin' up grass, going up where the clouds is\nSome niggas say they get so high that I ain't fuckin' wit' em'\nI say if them niggas got that high man I ain't fuckin' wit' em'\nDoing nothin' wit' em, rollin' up or puffin wit em'\nGoin' on the road, doin' shows or gettin' ducats wit' em'\nI been smokin' in my pictures since Myspace\nYou niggas extra-curricular, bitch I fly straight\n\nSome niggas try that shit for nothing, but I just tell em' to do what they do\n(Do what they do)\nSo many niggas went down the wrong road, so homie you can too (you can too)\nJust give me weed in my joint and I ain't need it for nothing\nHomie I'm straight (homie I'm straight)\nThe same way I came into the game, If I'm ever going out I'm goin' the same way\n\nAll I need is Mary Mary Mary I ain't fuckin' with no other drug\nAll I need is Mary Mary Mary I ain't fuckin' with no other drug\nAll I need is Mary Mary Mary I ain't fuckin' with no other drug\nAll I need is Mary Mary Mary I ain't fuckin' with no other drug\nYou might also like\nNigga like me be smokin' while I'm rappin'\nAnd my homies smoke like I smoke so we both just make it happen\nNiggas sayin' they be smokin', they be actin'\nCause you ain't yet really smoked unless you smoked one with the captain\nHigh as fuck, choked up in my cabin\nGot some OG from a fan and it was rolled up in a napkin\nSo we Taylored, all my niggas smoke papers\nNever smokin' that bullshit with them fucked up names and them flavors\nI remember puttin' weed in my videos, niggas thought I was insane\nNow every time I turn on a video, I see the exact same thing\nCause niggas ain't original, niggas ain't cool\nYou niggas ain't got it naw, you niggas just ain't you\nThat shit is a problem for a nigga who can't lose\nLil homie I gotta ball, its something you can't do\nSo suckas hate\n\nSome niggas try that shit for nothing, but I just tell em' to do what they do\n(Do what they do)\nSo many niggas went down the wrong road, so homie you can too (you can too)\nJust give me weed in my joint and I ain't need it for nothing\nHomie I'm straight (homie I'm straight)\nThe same way I came into the game, If I'm ever going out I'm goin' the same way\n\nAll I need is Mary Mary Mary I ain't fuckin' with no other drug\nAll I need is Mary Mary Mary I ain't fuckin' with no other drug\nAll I need is Mary Mary Mary I ain't fuckin' with no other drug\nAll I need is Mary Mary Mary I ain't fuckin' with no other drug\nI think Kush & OJ obviously is the one that broke you\nTo the consciousness. So people expect that from you\nSo it feels like, almost, homage to that but next level\nLike the beat by Spaceghostpurrp takes it next level\nThe way the Seldgren's changing the sound a little bit\nTakes it next level production-wise\nAnd then you take it, next level\nI'm glad you fuck with it\nAnd that's what it's all about\nTaking it to the next level\nElaborating on what we've done\nBecause a lot of people\nThey've elaborated on what we've done"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsLook Into My Eyes Lyrics\nIt ain\u2019t hard to tell I got money\nYou can see it if you\u2019re blind\nYou can see it when it shine, you see it then it\u2019s mine\nAlways on my hustle, always on my grind 24\/7, 365\nCame up off the corner, quarters, nicks, and dimes\nNigga don\u2019t believe me, look into my eyes\nNiggas moving pies, niggas losing lives\nNiggas doing time, they just tryna\u2019 survive\nNiggas talking shit, see me then its fine\nBroke and rich nigga, it\u2019s a very thin line\nSpeeding in my ride, smoking weed, I\u2019m getting high\nHope you niggas fire, gonna need em\u2019 if you try\nAll black leather, all black Jordan 5's\nMoney in the bank, kay kay on my mind\nGot some niggas that I\u2019m cool with, some gangster ass ties\nAll my niggas riding, all you niggas smiling\n\nShades on so them haters can\u2019t look into my eyes\nLook into my eyes, look into my eyes\nSo high that they say it\u2019s hard to look into my eyes\nLook into my eyes, look into my eyes\nYou\u2019ll see all the shit I been through if you look into my eyes\nLook into my eyes, look into my eyes\nYou gon\u2019 see a real nigga when you look into my eyes\nLook into my eyes, look into my eyes\nYou might also like\nMy pops tell me I look tired when he look into my eyes\nSoon as the cameras come on I know how to look alive\nMy mom tell me I look stressed when she look into my eyes\nSo many people in my business I\u2019m just trying to live my life\nYou can tell I took a dab if you look into my eyes\nSee them kay kay clouds floating if you look into my ride\nSay I look just like Sebastian if you look into my eyes\nKnow this whole world fucked up so I gotta raise him right\nSo we rolling, we smoking on that potent\nA boss I got my own shit, Breeze holding on that chrome shit\nHe down to let you hold it, we all the same we close knit\nRoll weed up by the ocean, you closing shop we open\nWe all know that the bullshit be talking and that real shit be walking\nIt\u2019s a 9-11 I\u2019m parking, you ain't getting money that\u2019s awkward\nProbably say I need a day off if you look into my eyes\nNiggas faking but I can\u2019t I don\u2019t look good in that disguise\n"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsPhone Numbers Lyrics\nListen to this track, bitch\nYeah, usually I be smoking weed on the intro\nBut I'm drinking water\nThis Cabin Fever, sick\nI'm not gonna tell you again, stay the hell away from my woman\nTaylor Gang niggas think you can do whatever you want\nUh\n\nI cop me one, cop me one for my old girl\nYou think she my newest bitch, she my old girl\nKhalifa, a younger nigga who handle his\nHoes get in my car ask what the channel is\nBoss shit, look that up my nigga, I handle biz\nOn fire, like a candle is\nNiggas be dressing off the mannequin\nMmm, and I get fresh like where them cameras is\nBetter yet sandwiches, bad bitch Spanish friends\nCoulda been the President rather be the man instead, yeah\n\nNow when I get paid my checks be lookin' like phone numbers\nNow when I get paid my checks be lookin' like phone numbers\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\nTime is money so I went and bought a Rolex (bought a Rolex)\nTime is money so I went and bought a Rolex (bought a Rolex)\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\nYou might also like\nI'm in the hood of off something that's corner surfing\nFloat, no water, my trunk is waving, I'm polar surfing\nBlowing faces, I'm shitting on the diamond infested\nTime is money, peep the wrist bitch, my time's invested\nI'm still the king and I'm thugged out\nAny block, any club I flood it out\nI ain't one for competition I'mma blow it out\nI'm going hard I don't even plan on going out\nI get money probably something you don't know about\nI stunt hard, you would swear that I was showing out\nDon't tell me get 'em, I got 'em and I'mma throw 'em out\nAnd back door on these hoes that I was rolling out\nWhile I'm in this machine, convert the top\nTell them that the sky is the limit\nWith a foreign freak, she got her face in my lap\nSo deep you would think that she was hiding in it\n\nNow when I get paid my checks be lookin' like phone numbers\nNow when I get paid my checks be lookin' like phone numbers\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\nTime is money so I went and bought a Rolex (bought a Rolex)\nTime is money so I went and bought a Rolex (bought a Rolex)\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\nShrimp, steak liquor and pasta\nReal shit boy, these niggas imposters\nThey deserve an Oscar, Kevin Costner\nOh My Gosher\nI got this and that and everything I want like I got a hostage\nCounting 7 digits no wonder why the money calling\nGot ya bitch panties Niagara falling\nDollars come like I fuck in the bank\nI told them I could, they tell me I can't\nThey want me to trip when I dunk in the paint\nI'm popping champagne and puffin' on dank\nShining hard, boy, these niggas gotta see me\nMy dick hard, your bitch is easy\n\nNow when I get paid my checks be lookin' like phone numbers\nNow when I get paid my checks be lookin' like phone numbers\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\nTime is money so I went and bought a Rolex (bought a Rolex)\nTime is money so I went and bought a Rolex (bought a Rolex)\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions\n(You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million)\nI'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsSay So Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nEverything you do, smoke weed\n\nTime flies, no lie (no lie)\nI'd rather be getting high (high)\nRidin' with my niggas getting right (right)\nIt ain't over 'till I say so (say so)\nTime flies, no lie (no lie)\nI'd rather be getting high (high)\nRidin' with my niggas getting right (right)\nIt ain't over 'till I say so (say so)\n\nHold up, roll up, mo money to throw up\nWalk in the club, everybody go up\nA hundred and 50K just to show up\nAnd everything ain't what it seems\nIt's hard to live somebody else's dreams\nI put all my trust in my team\nKnow that my money straight, won't let nothing come in between\nPolitic with my fam, never let the hate intervene\nSmoking weed out of Vegas and thanking God for the scene\nThinking back to when we ain't have it\nMade it on, came far, needed practice\nMoving forward while you thinking backwards\nNever sleep, hardly need a mattress\nI kick my shoes off my feet, then fall asleep in my seat\nClaiming you on your job, well doggie, it ain't complete\nClaiming you got the squad but you niggas can't compete\nCame with too many broads, can't fit them all in my suite\nWhat can I say? Bring the champagne glasses, roll the J's faster\nYou might also like\nTime flies, no lie (no lie)\nI'd rather be getting high (high)\nRidin' with my niggas getting right (right)\nIt ain't over 'till I say so (say so)\nTime flies, no lie (no lie)\nI'd rather be getting high (high)\nRidin' with my niggas getting right (right)\nIt ain't over 'till I say so (say so)"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsStill Blazin Lyrics\nUsually I make a weed song, so here goes a weed song\nUsually I make a weed song, so here goes a weed song\nHahaha\n\nStill blazin', still blazin', still blazin'\n'Cause Jah, Jah power so amazing\nGive I di strength and protection, keep praisin'\nEach and every day\nStill blazin', still blazin', still blazin'\n'Cause Jah, Jah power so amazing\nGive I di strength and protection, keep praisin'\nEach and every day\n\nWhy can't everyone just smoke like me?\nJust gimme a quiet place and lemme roll my weed\nWhere ain't nobody in my business, don't nobody gotta know\nLet all your conscious go and blow it by the O\nI'm here, but my minds gone\nAnd it's gettin hard to see you, 'cuz my eyes low\nMarijuana minutes, nigga time slow\nOn a kush clock, there's always time to smoke\nSay I look high? I say I'm high, bro\nStill blazin', no one with me, just facin\nI remember days when I could only smoke on occasions\nI couldn't wait to go and cop from Ray and them\nRollin blunts of 50, stuck in my Mom's basement\nHad dro for sale, but niggas was smokin' haze then\nBlew a O a day then, don't know, but somehow I made away\nAnd nigga them bills need pay, but I'm\nYou might also like\nStill blazin', still blazin', still blazin'\n'Cause Jah, Jah power so amazing\nGive I di strength and protection, keep praisin'\nEach and every day\nStill blazin', still blazin', still blazin'\n'Cause Jah, Jah power so amazing\nGive I di strength and protection, keep praisin'\nEach and every day\n\nWhy can't everyone just smoke like me?\nJust get up out my face and lemme roll my weed\nWhere ain't nobody in my business, don't nobody gotta know\nLets all learn how to roll and blow it by the O\nI'm here, but my minds gone\nAnd I'm gonna re-up as soon as the fires gone\nSmokin OG kush from another time zone\nAs the smoke begins to pile on\nWettin' rags and puttin' bags over the fire alarm\nYou niggas styrofoam, lightweights\nI'm on my 13th oz, quite baked\nYou probably go to sleep, ya throat might ache\nYou off that good weed, you need a nice break\nSee, I roll jays up all day and you gonna have to put a 8th in\nThey sayin' it's amazin, how I'm\nStill blazin', still blazin', still blazin'\n'Cause Jah, Jah power so amazing\nGive I di strength and protection, keep praisin'\nEach and every day\nStill blazin', still blazin', still blazin'\n'Cause Jah, Jah power so amazing\nGive I di strength and protection, keep praisin'\nEach and every day"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsInitiation Lyrics\nSledro!\nYou've always been a fool man, but you're stupid for this one nigga\n\nThis is for my young niggas, this is for my paid niggas\nThis is for my wild niggas, this is for my gang members\nThis is for the ones that don't care 'bout bein' hood niggas\nThis is for them badasses, this is for them good niggas\nThis is for them fly niggas, this ain't for them broke niggas\nThis is for high niggas, roll one up and smoke, nigga\nThis is for them boss niggas that be gettin' paper\nThis is for them real niggas, this ain't for them fakers\n\nThis is for them Taylors\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nYeah I got it, so I flaunt it\nAnd I bought it cause I want it\nScreamin' fuck a bitch nigga and a hater\nThis is for them\nYou might also like\nThis is for them lil' niggas that be goin' so hard\nThat be on they grind, know exactly where they post are\nTryin' to get they cheese, tryin' to get they pocket so large\nThis for niggas over-seas, this is for them dope boys\nThis is for them joint-smokers, this is for them gin-sippers\nThis ain't for no ho niggas, this ain't for no bitch niggas\nThis is for them rich niggas that be gettin' paper\nAll I do is ball, nigga, that's my human nature\nThis is for them niggas who know that they got strong pack\nIf it ain't strong, we don't blow that\nIf it ain't strong, it's gon' go back\nMoney so long, that shit throw-back\nAnd my nigga, this shit paid for, I don't owe that\nIt's a movie dog, it's a Kodak\nAnd I'm so gone, see you later\nThis ain't for y'all\n\nThis is for them Taylors\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nYeah I got it, so I flaunt it\nAnd I bought it cause I want it\nScreamin' fuck a bitch nigga and a hater\nThis is for them\nMonroe, Taylor Gang's .44, four door (Door)\nFor dough, four more coupes then blow mo'\nIt's about to go down like a credit score\nYour broke ass can't even use debit, whore\nVersace decor from the bed to the floor\nHave several seats or exit door\nPussy sweet, shoe mean\nWe ain't gettin' money, 'chu mean?\nWhole time your pockets' tighter than a new weave\nFuck 'em, we gon' roll up like two sleeves\nTaylor Gang, we down to bang\nY'all pussy weed blanks from failure range\nThey could never duplicate my Taylor frames\nIt's the Taylor ring, got a Taylor dame\nFor this cheese, oh snap\nAnd focus on my headshots\nAnd I ain't never loafin', you won't catch me with bread knots\nEenie, meenie, minie fuckin' mo\nAll these birds be goosin', so I be duckin' hoes\nN-never had an issue givin' bitches my ass to kiss\nWiz told me get 'em so I'm comin' out blastin' bitch\n\nThis is for them Taylors\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nThis is for them Taylor\nYeah I got it, so I flaunt it\nAnd I bought it cause I want it\nScreamin' fuck a bitch nigga and a hater\nThis is for them\nHey baby, it's me\nUm, I know you out there performin' right now, but\nI just wanted to leave you a little message\nTo let you know how much I love you\nAnd I miss you\nAnd I wish you were home with me right now\nBut I'm so proud of you\nAnd I'm so happy that you're doin' so well out there\nI miss you baby, I miss you so much\nI can't wait to see you\nI love you, mwah, bye"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsMIA Lyrics\nUh\n\nI be overseas, I be in L.A. \u00a0\nI be in the South, trappin' hard all day\nI'm from Pittsburgh, but I be in the Bay\nI be in New York, I be M.I.A. \u00a0\nI be in Chi-town where they quick to spray\nI be in Detroit where they gettin' paid\nI be overseas, I be in L.A. (hahahahaha)\nI be in New York, I be M.I.A. \u00a0\n\nIf you know me, you know I'm 'bout my bread\nI count a hundred million dollars 'fore I go to bed\nI'm smoking OG, I'm drinking champagne\nI'm standing on the couch just throwing up my damn gang\nI'm out in A town, 'bout to go to Mansion\nMy jewelry on so all my dogs is ready for the action\nI'm in my old school, my niggas ridin' new\nI'm in the Fountain Bleu like \"What you tryin' to do?\"\nI brought the whole thang so that's what I'ma smoke\nI spent the whole thang, I'm never going broke\nI'm rocking gold chains, I'm drinking 'til I croak\nSmokin' 'til I choke, my watch need a vote, oh\nYou might also like\nI be overseas, I be in L.A. (hahahaha)\nI be in the South, trappin' hard all day (It's presidential, nigga)\nI'm from Pittsburgh, but I be in the Bay (Uh)\nI be in New York, I be M.I.A. (Yeah)\nI be in Chi-town where they quick to spray\nI be in Detroit where they gettin' paid\nI be overseas (Yes I am), I be in L.A. \u00a0\nI be in New York, I be M.I.A. (Check it out)\n\nOn vacation weed in rotation\nRelaxation, trippy nation\nChasing bands, model chicks\nLook like Sports Illustrated\nI'm getting high as a plane\nWith no final destination\nOn that gin, on that Hen\nAnd that lean intoxication (You know it)\nRocking dollars, rocking gold\nMoney tall like Manute Bol\nIn a presidential suite\nWith some Playmate centerfolds\nNiggas out here chasin' ass\nBut they should be chasin' cash\nI be smoking 'til it's gone\nJuicy J don't waste no gas (Waste no gas)\nWith her legs lift up (Oh)\nI thought it was a stick up (Oh)\nShould've seen them hoes that pick up\nBands hard to lift up (Damn)\nYellow diamonds look like a bumble bee (Uh)\nThey call me the money tree (The money tree)\nAll these bands on me, I can throw a jamboree\nI be overseas, I be in L.A. \u00a0\nI be in the South, trappin' hard all day\nI'm from Pittsburgh, but I be in the Bay\nI be in New York, I be M.I.A. \u00a0\nI be in Chi-town where they quick to spray\nI be in Detroit where they gettin' paid\nI be overseas, I be in L.A\nI be in New York, I be M.I.A. \u00a0\n"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsNever Been Lyrics\nUh\nJets nigga no one ever knew\nCome to the Taylor Gang, rollin' up them paper planes\nKush and Orange Juice nigga\nSledgren, yeah\nWhat up Will?\nYeah bitch\nI'm high so I said It like that, uh\n\nEmpty bottles of Clicquot and ashes on the flo'\nTowel under the do', we wasn't supposed to even smoke\nI ain't tripping, never slip or slacking on my pimping\nDrop the nerds you with, come smoke a joint with he who's winning\nAin't like them guys who wine and dine to keep they women\nMy bitches only want two things, that's to get high and kick it\nTry my pot prescription, take a couple shots with lemon\nUsually have to watch a movie to see how I'm livin'\nYeah, so what's the hold up\nWaiter bring the bottle get them EZ-Widers rolled up\nSelf made G, did everything on my own, bruh\nIn my early twenties with money as wide as Oprah\n\nCrack another bottle, get the weed rolled up\nAnd girl you know I got it, everything's on us\nI toke a lot cause I'm getting bank roll\nAnd they follow me anywhere that my plane go\nSay she never been\nSay she never been\nSay she never been\nI'm getting bank roll\nAnd they follow me anywhere that my plane go\nSay she never been\nYou might also like\nCrack a window we gon' smoke this indo\nSaying that you still high from last night\nYou try to pass, trying to beware of the fast life\nKick it with the planes and it'll be your last flight, yeah\nOG hash, let you stumble to class right\nThe sex great, no I don't give her no half-pipe\nHousekeepers knocking, we don't let 'em in\nRolling doobies up, room with a Jacuzzi tub\n(Say she never been) In the game, I am a veteran\nAfter we fuck, roll the doctor-prescribed medicine\nLet you hit it once, then you sleepin'\nA fly nigga traveling the world, taking your girl for the weekend\nKeep it\n\nCrack another bottle, get the weed rolled up\nAnd girl you know I got it, everything's on us\nI toke a lot cause I'm getting bank roll\nAnd they follow me anywhere that my plane go\nSay she never been\nSay she never been\nSay she never been\nI'm getting bank roll\nAnd they follow me anywhere that my plane go\nSay she never been\nLouie Luggage and all\nFuck with the Taylor Gang, Spring, Summer, and Fall\nAnd Winter too\nYeah bitch\nGerm on the boards"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsGot Me Some More Lyrics\nYoung Chop on the beat\nUhh\n\nWhere you going? What you doin'? (This type of shit)\nThey hating on it, but you keep it moving\nGot money, then I got me some more (You could just spin it all the time)\nGot money, then I got me some more\n\nHundred bottles that's nothin'\nI be out Greystone and I'm stuntin'\nI be up standing on the couch bottle in my mouth\nPourin' champaigne and spitting champaigne out\nJust cause I came up from not havin' shit\nMade a couple mill off this rapping shit\nSmoking papers ya'll smoking backwoods\nHustle smart, while ya'll hustle backwards\nNiggas gettin' lost in the game\nMe, I'm all getting sorts of change\nNiggas tryna cross in my lane\nI'm thinking that it's awesome, fixing up a cone\nPorsche getting washed in the rain\nRolex watches, diamonds in my chain, damn look at all them rings\nDon't know what to call it, smoke like a rasta\nDrink like an alcoholic, like I just came back from college\nTake another shot I'm balling, KK cones up in my wallet\nCame here and turnt up, Now your hoes wanna' go with us\nAt the crib with my niggas\nThey ain't acting like they your bitches no more\nYou might also like\nWhere you going? What you doin'?\nThey hating on it, but you keep it moving\nGot money, then I got me some more\nGot money, then I got me some more\n\nKeep that KK, and it's rolled up\nGot that bombay, now we slowed up\nGot money, then I got me some more\nGot money, then I got me some more\n\nWhen I started this ain't have all of this\nNow I came up what chu' calling it?\nCouple millionaires on my calling list\nNeed it Hookah's niggas yes men\nScared to tell the truth cause\nNow these old heads think they the new us\nGot a bitch so thick call her two cups\nAnd my chain so cold got the roof up\nI only been here for three years and made more than you in ten\nTold my niggas we started broke and never going there again (thank god amen)\nThem niggas hating but they know we don't stop\nNow I'm flying out to different places\nTalking shit\nDemonstrating shit that makes us rich and famous\nMoney conversations\nObligations, not about a dollar is a foreign language\nNow I got everything\nA better car, a better team and I ain't worried about nigggaaaasss\nWhere you going? What you doin'?\nThey hating on it, but you keep it moving\nGot money, then I got me some more\nGot money, then I got me some more\n\nKeep that KK, and it's rolled up\nGot that bombay, now we slowed up\nGot money, then I got me some more\nGot money, then I got me some more\n\nGot money, then I got me\nIf it's 'bout money, it's 'bout me\nMade my way up in the game\nWhen they doubted me, oh\nGot money, then I got me some more\nGot money, then I got me some more\nGot money, then I got me\nIf it's bout money, it's bout me\nIf you rolling up, ain't no getting high\nWithout me, no\nGot money, then I got me some more (Oh)\nGot money, then I got me some more (Yeah, yeah)\nWhere you going? What you doin'?\nThey hating on it, but you keep it moving\nGot money, then I got me some more\nGot money, then I got me some more\n\nKeep that KK, and it's rolled up\nGot that bombay, now we slowed up\nGot money, then I got me some more\nGot money, then I got me some more"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsReefer Party Lyrics\nThousand pounds of weed\nRidin' in my car so fast I won't turn down the speed\nThem hoes dont use they feet no more, they break down to their knees\nAnd suck me like a king\nRos\u00e9 in my champagne glass and diamonds in my ring\nUh, roll some, thats your bitch on my dick\nI might let her hold something\nYou niggas smoking sevens I'mma need a whole onion, whole youngin, oh\nSame ones that hate, same ones that tag along\nNo Blackberry, too many lame niggas call my phone\nCall me world wide Wiz cause I\u2019m never home\nEver leave me round your bitch I\u2019mma get her stoned\nAnd you know that I rock camos and brought fros back\nAnd go download some of my old track\nAnd go play somewhere there\u2019s hoes at\nFucking high, and you down there where them lows at\nGettin tired of hearing my flow jacked\nGo head hand me a joint, you can't roll that\n\nI got a whole lot of OGs, and\nI\u2019m rolling up for anyone in here that knows me\nEverybody smoking, yea it's a party, oh, its a party\nEverybody smoking papers, nobody smoking blunts\nBitches rolling weed and my niggas fucked up\nYea it's a party, oh, it's a party\nYou might also like\nQuarter pound of that sour, thats four days on tour\nSleeping on how we smoke, see all these pillows on this floor\nEvery state we score, fill those papers they be raw\nLook like a piece of chalk in my hand\nBut I ain't writing on the chalkboard\nAnd I heard its a party, its a party its a party but I\u2019m cool\nThem niggas smoking garbage, I\u2019m no fool\nWe give 5 j\u2019s out half zips? Nigga thats really smoking\nAin't enough weed up in that swisha to get you high, you joking\nNiggas claim that they be high, they be hella low\nWhen they gang up in the building you gon\u2019 smell that sour smoke\nI could get that shit from my backyard, go pick it out myself\nYellow light let me slow it down, niggas need some help\n28 ain't enough you need more\nAll this weed over here, thats 1 weed jar\nWhen them planes get the flying, niggas wanna part\nSmoking crash with the plane, Amelia Earhart\n\nI got a whole lot of OGs, and\nI\u2019m rolling up for anyone in here that knows me\nEverybody smoking, yea it's a party, oh, its a party\nEverybody smoking papers, nobody smoking blunts\nBitches rolling weed and my niggas fucked up\nYea it's a party, oh, it's a party\nWhat I smoke in one day, these niggas dont smoke in one week\nRiding round and its just me, Pepsi can, playing that Bun B\nGotta smoke that dope on the run with me, comfortably, I\u2019m smoking weed\nDoing speeds, who with me, probably a chick from TMZ\nI make her roll like two or three, let her smoke and feel the breeze\nYa\u2019ll chip in on a half a zip, counting grams, saving weed\nAverage shit, it was us just smoking out in NY\nSwear to GOD we let ten fly, thats ten planes with ten guys\nNine smoke, meaning someone left without his mind pot\nPlanes Continental, flights nonstop\nYou get some zips, well get some P\u2019s\nSmoke your spliffs around your bitch, tell me how does she breath\nPerfect planes, we call them G6\u2032s\nAnd its just me chilling, me and three bitches\nRolling up its cool, come take this bong rip\nPack this bold straight dope, make your lungs rip"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsCan\u2019t Be Stopped Lyrics\nUh, I\u2019mma tell you that you not my competition\nI\u2019mma always win, throw me in and I\u2019m going in\nI ain\u2019t running, I\u2019mma come until you leave\nI'm 'bout to get it, talk about it \u2018cause I really live it\nOn them nights on a mission, no fear, no hope in my vision\nDon\u2019t need no intervention, you ain\u2019t down to rider\nAnd even if you was I come out, point \u2018em out, they all gon\u2019 be missing\nWonder why I\u2019m still here act a fool if you met me (act a fool if you met me)\nYou try to be brave and step up with you crew it\u2019s too scary\nPlus I\u2019m too legendary, It\u2019s what we go hard for\nI\u2019m rocking your block, you on top you get knocked off\nI\u2019m taking your place yeah, I'll make it my property\nMay be a game to you, probably, that\u2019s a way of life for me\nAnd so it\u2019s only right for me, annihilate \u2018em if they in my way or sight\nKeep 'em up off of me, a weakness in you only make an appetite\nAnytime I get into it I be looking at them, looking pitiful\nAnd their condition it be critical, nothing less than original\nCross me once that's the end of you - who\u2019s next?You might also like"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsBluffin Lyrics\nTalkin' big money, bitch, uh\nThat little shit you talkin' 'bout, that's lunch money\nWe don't even smoke that\n(I got, I got, I got, I got so much)\nAnd this shit gon' be like this for uh (I got so much)\nPretty much the rest of the time we here\n(I got, I got, I got, I got so much)\nMy little niggas got more money than you fuck niggas man\nI promise (I got so much)\n\nQuarter million, little nigga, I was nineteen\nHad my hustle down pat, I did the right thing\nThey don't move that fast, they act like they don't like cheese\nHad a couple niggas mad like they don't like me\nIs it cause I'm hella paid? I think it might be\nYeah my pockets hella straight\nAnd I smoke so much dope I got OG in my IV\nSo many niggas jackin' that shit don't even surprise me\nI don't even want it back, shit it's off to the good\nCan't even say I didn't know you would\nMake a little money, get it from the road\nBring that shit back to the hood\nAnytime you see me, man I'm on the grind\nNigga wasn't workin' when you knew you should\nNow you talk about me when I'm on the road\nAnd when I ride by I'm in the newest one\nYou might also like\nI got so much money I think I should pay for all this\nThey ain't down to spend how much they say cause they ain't ballin'\nI got so much paper I just spend it like it's nothin'\nAin't no way they spend how much they say cause they just bluffin'\nI got so much money I think I should pay for all this\nThey ain't down to spend how much they say cause they ain't ballin'\nI got so much paper I just spend it like it's nothin'\nAin't no way they spend how much they say cause they just bluffin'\nI got so much\n\nBig money, even larger crib\nNo I ain't just stuntin', that's how I'm supposed to live\nI move fast paced, so I drive faster cars\nTake a look outside, those are really ours\nAnd we're really stars\nWe all travel safe and go really far\nIn that custom paint, in that suede floor\nIn that California, that's really hard\nIn that California, that's what we on\nSmell that strong, you know I'm baked\nChances dog, that's what we take\nHow much you hate, that's what we make\nRoll up one, that's what we face\nLot of y'all claim that you real, gon' show up fake\nBut that shit don't mean a thing\nCause I'll still be on my grind and stackin' all of this change\nI got so much money I think I should pay for all this\nThey ain't down to spend how much they say cause they ain't ballin'\nI got so much paper I just spend it like it's nothin'\nAin't no way they spend how much they say cause they just bluffin'\nI got so much money I think I should pay for all this\nThey ain't down to spend how much they say cause they ain't ballin'\nI got so much paper I just spend it like it's nothin'\nAin't no way they spend how much they say cause they just bluffin'\nI got so much\n\nDon't even gotta ask if I get enough cause (I got so much)\nGin in my cup, twenty-two cones I'mma stuff\nLightin' another one up (I got, I got, I got, I got so much)\nLive it up, every dollar spend it up\nDon't even gotta ask if I get enough cause (I got so much)\nGin in my cup, twenty two cones I'mma stuff\nLightin' another one up, cause\n\nI got so much money I think I should pay for all this\nThey ain't down to spend how much they say cause they ain't ballin'\nI got so much paper I just spend it like it's nothin'\nAin't no way they spend how much they say cause they just bluffin'\nI got so much money I think I should pay for all this\nThey ain't down to spend how much they say cause they ain't ballin'\nI got so much paper I just spend it like it's nothin'\nAin't no way they spend how much they say cause they just bluffin'\nI got so much\nHey man, green is for the money, gold is for the honeys\nStep up your game or step down\nWhenever a problem troubles us all\nIf you trust in the Lord there will be a brighter tomorrow\nFor there's nothing too much for the great God to do\nAnd all that he asks and expects of you\nIs faith that's unshaken by tribulation and yield\nConfidence and knowledge that God knows best\nAnd trouble and sorrow, they are only a test\nBut without God testin' of our soul\nIt never could reach the ultimate goal\nSo keep on knowing and believing\nAll that God has promised you would be yours to receive\nPreach, Church, tabernacle\nWiz! Wiz! That's the way\nWiz! Wiz! That's the way\nWiz! Wiz! That's the way"}
{"text":"23 ContributorsNo Permission Lyrics\nWhen I ride by, I want you to see what I see\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nShit's very clear, uh\n\nPass me a joint, guarantee Imma hit it\nCome to that life, I don't talk it, I live it\nI got a old school ass car you can sit in\nI got a crib that you probably can't get it\nI got a pound, we can grind it and twist it\nI been at work on the grind for a minute\nSmokin' that loud and still mindin' my business\nShe fuck with me because I got the vision\nCountin' my benjis\nPuttin' it all in the bank but I don't really mind if I spend it\nCan't take it? Don't cross the line when you finish\nWhen you stay all on your grind you can get it\nWhen we be fuckin' I'm climbin' up in it\nShe fuck with me because I got the vision\nHaters be talkin', don't mind 'em, don't listen\nDuckin' 'em shots, that's divine intervention\nI be so high, you should prolly come visit\nYou make a choice, hope you like your decision\nCome to my crib, we can spark and get lifted\nGo up in smoke just like I'm a magician\nShe ain't have fun, then she probably was trippin'\nShe fuck with me because I got the vision\nGet to this money, get high, my intentions\nFamily first, that's a valuable lesson\nShe fuck with me because I got the vision\nI fuck with her, when I'm talkin', she listen\nWhen we together, we stick to the mission\nSparkin' that weed up without no permission\nShe fuck with me because I got the vision\nI fuck with her, when I'm talkin', she listen\nWhen we together, we stick to the mission\nRollin' that weed up without no permission, uh\nYou might also like\nOh, oh\nMoney come and money go, we stay the same though\nOh, oh\nMoney come and money go, we stay the same though\nOh, oh\nMoney come and money go, we stay the same though\nOh, oh\nMoney come and money go, we stay the same though\n\nStill getting richer, her friend came for richer\nAin't answer my calls and I guess you don\u2019t know 'bout this blessing you missin'\nKeys in ignition, ready to start it\nKilling that pussy, that\u2019s dearly departed\nOK, now give me your thoughts on this carpet\nJust got the call, Imma pull up and park it\nSmellin' like kush, what could you tell me?\nBody all chocolate like Keisha in Belly\nDamn girl I like what you do with that jelly\nYou here for your interview, shoutout O'Reilly\nWe gettin' money nigga case closed\nAll hundreds to the bankroll\nIf you coming nigga, let\u2019s go\nI\u2019m talking crab with the eggroll\nJust shot a text \u201cWhat you doin tonight?\u201d\nOh is you down for the chewin' the night?\nTurn off the lights but that ain\u2019t what I like\nI want to see what you do in the light\nTold me you grown and don\u2019t need no permission\nIf it hadn\u2019t been for you Ima need intervention\nHold up a second, I\u2019m talkin', just listen\nWhat\u2019s on your mind?\nDon\u2019t make no decisions\nI\u2019m gone"}
{"text":"\nMhm, mhm\nOkay\nIt don't work, It don't work\nIt don't work, It don't work\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nIt don't work, It don't work\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nIt don't work, It don't work\nDollars\n\nI switched the time zone, but what do I know?\nSpendin' nights hitchhikin', where will I go?\nI could fly home, with my eyes closed\nBut it'd get kinda hard to see, that's no surprise though\nAnd you could find me, I ain't hidin'\nI don't move my feet when I be glidin'\nI just slide in and then I roll out\n\nYep\nWell, climbin' over that wall (Yeah, wall, wall,) mm\nI remember, yes, I remember, yes, I remember it all\nSwear the height be too tall (Yeah), so like September I fall\n(Down, down, down) Down below\nNow I know that the medicine be on call, yeah (Gimme, gimme, gimme)\nWhen it's feelin' like you hot enough to melt, yeah (Melt, yeah)\nCan't trust no one, can't even trust yourself, yeah (-Self, yeah)\nAnd I love you, I don't love nobody else, yeah (Else, yeah)\nYou might also like\nTell them they can take that bullshit elsewhere (Yeah)\nSelf care, I'm treatin' me right, yeah\nHell yeah, we gonna be alright (We gon' be alright)\n\nI switched the time zone (Yeah), but what do I know? (Yeah)\nSpendin' nights hitchhikin', where will I go?\nI could fly home (Yeah), with my eyes closed (Yeah)\nBut it'd get kinda hard to see, that's no surprise though\nAnd you could find me (Yeah), I ain't hidin' (Yeah)\nI don't move my feet when I be glidin'\nI just slide in (Yeah) and then I roll out\n\nBeen on the road\nI don't see it\nOut on the road\nI don't see where I'm going\n\nYeah, I been readin' them signs (Wow, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI been losin' my, I been losin' my, I been losin' my mind, yeah (Yeah)\nGet the fuck out the way ('Kay), must be this high to play (Okay)\nIt must be nice up above the lights\nAnd what a lovely life that I made, yeah (Uh)\nI know that feelin' like it's in my family tree, yeah (Woah)\nThat Mercedes drove me crazy, I was speedin'\nSomebody save me from myself, yeah\nTell them they can take that bullshit elsewhere\nSelf care, we gonna be good\nHell yeah, they lettin' me go-o-o-o-o-o-o-o\n\nI switched the time zone (Yeah), but what do I know? (Yeah)\nSpendin' nights hitchhikin', where will I go? (Yeah)\nI could fly home (Yeah) with my eyes closed (Yeah)\nBut it'd get kinda hard to see, that's no surprise though (Yeah)\nAnd you could find me (Yeah), I ain't hidin' (Yeah)\nI don't move my feet when I be glidin' (Yeah)\nI just slide in (Yeah) and then I roll out\n\n\nI didn't know, I didn't know\nI didn't know, I didn't know, yeah\nWell, didn't know what I was missin', now I see a lil' different\nI was, thinkin' too much\n\nGot stuck in oblivion, yeah, yeah\nOblivion, yeah, yeah\nOblivion, yeah, yeah\nI got all the time in the world, so for now I'm just chillin'\nPlus I know it's a, it's a beautiful feelin'\nIn oblivion, yeah, yeah\nOblivion, yeah, yeah\nOblivion, yeah, yeah\nYeah\nOkay, I ride around my city when I come home, yeah\nThe sun set quickly, then get up slow, yeah\nI just connect and upload\nWatch it spin around, we just spinnin' round, yeah\nLet's go and travel through the unknown, yeah\nWe play it cool, we know we fucked though, yeah\nYou keep on sayin' you in love, so\nTell me, are you really down? Are you really down? Yeah\nLet's go back to my crib and play some 45's\nIt's safe in there, I know there's still a war outside\nWe spend our nights all liquored up, our mornings high\nCan you feel it now?\n\nOblivion, yeah, yeah\nOblivion, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nOblivion, yeah, yeah\nOoh-ooh, ooh-ooh\nI got all the time in the world, so for now I'm just chillin'\nPlus, I know it's a, it's a beautiful feelin'\nIn oblivion, yeah, yeah\nOblivion, yeah, yeah\nOblivion, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"I spent the whole day in my head\nDo a little spring cleanin'\nI'm always too busy\u2005dreamin'\nWell,\u2005maybe I should\u2005wake up instead\nA lot of things\u2005I regret, but I just say I forget\nWhy can't it just be easy?\nWhy does everybody need me to stay?\nOh, I hate the feelin'\nWhen you're high, but you're underneath the ceilin'\nGot the cards in my hand, I hate dealin', yeah\nGet everything I need, then I'm gone, but it ain't stealin'\nCan I get a break?\nI wish that I could just get out my goddamn way\nWhat is there to say?\nThere ain't a better time than today\nWell, maybe I'll lay down for a little, yeah\nInstead of always tryin' to figure everything out\nAnd all I do is say sorry\nHalf the time I don't even know what I'm sayin' it about\n\nGood news, good news, good news\nThat's all they wanna hear\nNo, they don't like it when I'm down\nBut when I'm flyin', oh\nIt make 'em so uncomfortable\nSo different, what's the difference?\nYou might also like\nWhen it ain't that bad\nIt could always be worse\nI'm runnin' out of gas, hardly anything left\nHope I make it home from work\nWell, so tired of bein' so tired\nWhy I gotta build somethin' beautiful just to go set it on fire?\nI'm no liar, but\nSometimes the truth don't sound like the truth\nMaybe 'cause it ain't\nI just love the way it sound when I say it, yeah\nIt's what I do\nIf you know me, it ain't anything new\nWake up to the moon, haven't seen the sun in a while\nBut I heard that the sky's still blue, yeah\nI heard they don't talk about me too much no more\nAnd that's the problem with a closed door\n\nGood news, good news, good news\nThat's all they wanna hear\nNo, they don't like it when I'm down\nBut when I'm flyin', oh\nIt make 'em so uncomfortable\nSo different, what's the difference?\nThere's a whole lot more for me waitin' on the other side\nI'm always wonderin' if it feel like summer\nI know maybe I'm too late, I could make it there some other time\nI'll finally discover\nThat there's a whole lot more for me waitin'\nThat there's a whole lot more for me waitin'\nI know maybe I'm too late, I could make it there some other time\nThen I'll finally discover\nThat it ain't that bad, ain't so bad\nWell, it ain't that bad, mm\nAt least it don't gotta be no more\n\nNo more, no more, no more, no more\nNo more, no more, no more, no more\nHey, hey\nMm, hey, mm, mm, mm"}
{"text":"Yeah\nEric\nWell\n\nI don't need to lie no more\nNowadays all I do is shine, take a breath and ease my mind, and\nShe don't cry no more\nShe tell me that I get her high 'cause an angel's s'posed to fly, and\nI ain't askin' \"Why?\" no more\nOh, no, I take it if it's mine, I don't stay inside the lines\nIt ain't 2009 no more\nYeah, I know what's behind that door\n\nYeah, okay, you gotta jump in to swim\nWell, the light was dim in this life of sin\nNow every day I wake up and breathe\nI don't have it all but that's alright with me\nTake it nice and easy, took a flight to see me\nSend you back home with a light that's beamin'\nThe whole team 'bout to figure it out\nWe ice cold, that's what winter about\nAnd sometimes, sometimes I wish I took a simpler route\nInstead of havin' demons that's as big as my house, mhmm\nHave a ball with a dribble and bounce\n'Cause the party ain't over 'til they're kickin' me out, yeah\nIsn't it funny? We can make a lot of money\nBuy a lot of things just to feel a lot of ugly\nI was yea high and muddy\nLookin' for what was lookin' for me\nYou might also like\nBut I don't need to lie no more\nNowadays all I do is shine, take a breath and ease my mind, and\nShe don't cry no more\nShe tell me that I get her high 'cause an angel's s'posed to fly, and\nI ain't askin' \"Why?\" no more\nOh, no, I take it if it's mine, I don't stay inside the lines\nIt ain't 2009 no more\nYeah, I know what's behind that door\n\nYeah, they ask me what I'm smilin' for\nWell, because I've never been this high before\nIt's like I never felt alive before\nMhmm, I'd rather have me peace of mind than war\nSee, me and you, we ain't that different\nI struck the fuck out and then I came back swingin'\nTake my time to finish, mind my business\nA life ain't a life 'til you live it, I was diggin' me a hole\nBig enough to bury my soul\nWeight of the world, I gotta carry my own\nMy own, with these arms I can carry you home\nI'm right here when you scared and alone, and I ain't never in a hurry\nYou don't ever gotta worry\nEven when it's 7:30 and the time is runnin' low\nWhen your heart get cold\nSee what's behind all them unturned stones\nAnd I'm a pro when it come to my job\nBut really I'm just tryna start believin' in God\nNow when it gets hard\nI don't panic, I don't sound the alarm\nBecause I don't need to lie no more\nNowadays all I do is shine, take a breath and ease my mind, and\nShe don't cry no more\nShe tell me that I get her high 'cause an angel's s'posed to fly, and\nI ain't askin' \"Why?\" no more\nOh, no, I take it if it's mine, I don't stay inside the lines\nIt ain't 2009 no more\nYeah, I know what's behind that door\nI don't need to lie no more\nNowadays all I do is shine, take a breath and ease my mind, and\nShe don't cry no more\nShe tell me that I get her high 'cause an angel's s'posed to fly, and\nI ain't askin' \"Why?\" no more\nOh, no, I take it if it's mine, I don't stay inside the lines\nIt ain't 2009 no more\nYeah, I know what's behind that door"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nUh, uh, (Uh, uh)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYo, now\n\nI got a little bit of money fillin' my pockets, roll around like I run this shit\nI got a system filled up with toxins, I've been broken-hearted, now it's fuck that bitch\nGettin' high to deal with my problems, fucking bitches, getting drunk as shit\nBut these bitches gettin' obnoxious, they nuttin' to me though, I love this shit\nGo long days, longer nights, talk too much, the wrong advice, all the lights\nAnd call my life, doctor, doctor, will you help me? Get me healthy, keep it low, this where hell be\nAin't shit you can tell me now, fuck this rap shit, bitch, I'm sellin' out\nOoh shit, with my new bitch, you jealous now, smokin' weed at the crib watchin' Belly now (Alright)\nAll the pain that they causin' like, fuck it, we ballin', now everythin' straight\nYou feelin' the feelin', I'm chillin', just livin', I'm burnin' away\nConversations we havin', I'm gettin' too static, too much on my plate\nLord, I need me a break\n\nBut I'll be good by the weekend (Alright) (Yeah)\nI'll be good by the weekend (Yeah)\nEverything good by the weekend (Alright) (Yeah)\nEverything will be good by the weekend (By the weekend)\nYou might also like\nWe going out tonight, yeah, we going out tonight, like fuck it\nWe going out tonight, yeah, we going out tonight, fuck it\nWe going out tonight, yeah, we going out tonight (It's a weekend)\nWe going out tonight, yeah, we going out tonight (It's a weekend)\n\nI been havin' trouble sleepin', battlin' these demons\nWondering what's the thing that keeps me breathin': is it money, fame or neither?\nI been thinkin' 'bout the places that I frequent, all the people that I see\nI'm just out here livin' decent, what do it mean to be a G? Yeah (Alright)\nAnd all the time we fall behind, bitches in the concubine, I call her mine, crazy\nIn God's desire, I make water wine, pausin' time, it's common, they often hate me\nNever will I walk in line, I cross the T's and dot the I's, wonderin', well\nWonderin' how I got this high, fell asleep and forgot to die, Goddamn\nI'm poppin' them downers and drinkin' them powders, faded\nGet it over the counter, I'm stuck on the browser, like, how did I make it?\nThese bitches don't know me, this shit is so lonely until she get naked\nDon't even know what the day is\nBut I'll be good by the weekend (Alright) (Yeah)\nI'll be good by the weekend (Yeah)\nEverything good by the weekend (Alright) (Yeah)\nEverything will be good by the weekend (By the weekend)\nMondays I think of you, but I ain't trippin' on it\nTuesdays I'm hittin', gotta get my hands up on ya\nWednesdays I'm lit wit'chu, you know you're stayin' over\nThursdays I'm sick of you, I got to get rid of you\n'Cause Fridays are always the start of the time of my life, alright\nWhen I get faded you hate it, but, baby\nIt's gon' be alright\nHaha, alright"}
{"text":"Can you turn the beat up?\nA little louder\nThere you go\n\nPeople love you when they on your mind\nA thought is love's currency\nAnd I been thinkin' 'bout her all the time\nI never seen somebody put together perfectly\nWhat would I have to do to call you mine?\nSomeone like you is so hard to find\nYou can open up your eyes, or you can walk in blind\nAll I ask is that you hurry, I won't hurt you, don't you worry\nListen to me, I'ma set you free\nHe ain't gonna break your heart again\nGo through the worst to reach the ecstasy\nWhen your imagination's on pretend\nI never thought that it would feel this way\nYou never taught me how to heal the pain\nI wish you caught me on a different day\nWhen it was easier to be happy\n\nJust a little taste and you know she got you\nCan you hide away? Can you hide away?\nSound of silence as they all just watch you\nI kinda find it strange how the times have changed\nI wish we could go and be\nFree once, baby, you and me\nWe could change the world forever\nAnd never come back again\nLet's leave it all in the rear-view\nLet's leave it all in the rear-view, girl\nYou don't have to cry\nYou don't have to cry\nYou might also like\nMend a broken heart, girl, if you can\nI don't expect you to be capable\nYou got the world right in your hands\nThat responsibility is unescapable\nI promise that I'll be a different man\nPlease give me the chance to go and live again\nI'm havin' some trouble, can you give a hand?\nIt seems perfection really is so unattainable\nDon't even say you 'bout to end it all\nYour life precious, ain't no need to go and kill yourself\nI'm not so sure that there's an end at all\nI wish the truth would just reveal itself\nWho do you call to make it to the top?\nAnd who do you call to make the shootin' stop?\nAnd who do you call to give the coupe a wash?\nAfter everything I did, I think I'm still myself\n\nJust a little taste and you know she got you\nCan you hide away? Can you hide away?\nSound of silence as they all just watch you\nI kinda find it strange how the times have changed\nI wish we could go and be\nFree once, baby, you and me\nWe could change the world forever\nAnd never come back again\nLet's leave it all in the rear-view\nLet's leave it all in the rear-view, girl\nYou don't have to cry\nYou don't have to cry"}
{"text":"\nUh, $ign\nOh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no\nNo, no ($ign)\nAyy\n\nI been waitin' all night for this moment\nI been waitin' all year for this moment\nI been picturin' you takin' off your clothes for me\nI been literally curvin' all these hoes for you\nDaddy told you, better bring your ass home\nCinderella, better get your ass home\nMan, I swear that parents just don't understand\nYou ain't gotta be old to be a man\nTake my hand, come with me\nTo my room (My room)\nGirl, I got a suite at the SLS (SLS), uh\nI already know you got expensive taste (Yeah)\nAyy, take my hand (My hand), follow me (Follow me)\nTo my room\nTell your little friends you gon' be alright\nGirl, I got a plan for the whole night\nYou might also like\nOkay, your legs just like a store: they open up and you got people in line\nBeen there every night for weeks at a time\nYou in my dreams, that's why I sleep all the time\nJust to hear you say I love you, just to touch you, just to leave you behind\nI told you, you don't have to worry, you'll be fine\nThis type of thing, I heard it happen all the time\nYeah, I just wanna see you fly\nBecause your fragrance got me faded, you be keepin' me high\nSaid nothin' better than the first time\nI'll be at your service like the check-in at curbside\nYou don't have to spend another second on this Earth dry\nWet you like a fresh beau coop, go a second and a third time\nLeft you a perverse mind\nAnd when you hungry, I can chef you up a stir fry\nGet you some dessert wine, elevate ya third eye\nFirst prize, Nobel, get a piece\nYour clothes off, turn around, lemme see\n\nI been waitin' all night for this moment\nI been waitin' all year for this moment\nI been picturin' you takin' off your clothes for me\nI been literally curvin' all these hoes for you\nDaddy told you, better bring your ass home\nCinderella, better get your ass home\nMan, I swear that parents just don't understand\nYou ain't gotta be old to be a man\nTake my hand, come with me\nTo my room\nGirl, I got a suite at the SLS, uh\nI already know you got expensive taste (Uh)\nTake my hand, follow me\nTo my room\nTell your little friends you gon' be alright\nGirl, I got a plan for the whole night (Yeah)\nOkay, I came up with a plan, it was\nTake you by the hand and bring you somewhere where the sand is\nSoon as we landed, we went straight into the room and played the music\nStarted dancin', you was takin' off your pants\nIt look like Dorothy ain't in Kansas anymore, I do you like a chore\nWe started on the bed and then we movin' to the floor\nYou started gettin' crazy, told me fuck you like a whore\nI thought you was an angel, now you yellin' to the Lord\nYou used to tell me all the time I ain't ya type\nNow you always wanna spend the night\nNow I'm doin' everything you like\nWhen I'm inside your pussy, damn, it feels so right (Yeah)\nBut I still respect ya game\nEvery time I'm out-of-line, you always set me straight\nThe sex is great, for Heaven's sakes, I need it every day\nI yell your name, Cinderella\nNever gonna find nobody better, all my life\n\nI been waitin' all night for this moment\nI been waitin' all year for this moment\nI been picturin' you takin' off your clothes for me\nI been literally curvin' all these hoes for you\nDaddy told you, better bring your ass home\nCinderella, better get your ass home\nMan, I swear that parents just don't understand\nYou ain't gotta be old to be a man\nTake my hand, come with me\nTo my room\nGirl, I got a suite at the SLS, uh\nI already know you got expensive taste, uh\nTake my hand, follow me\nTo my room\nTell your little friends you gon' be alright\nGirl, I got a plan for the whole night, ayy\n\n\nHey now, I'm sayin'\nMy only way out is a way in\nI won't stop\n'Til you mine, no way\nWell, all my days now, they changin'\nI got angels, no more Satan\nLooks like God's on my side\nThis time, yeah\n\nBeen meanin' to tell ya\nYou lookin' better every day\nWrite you letters, it's only right that\nRight after love, I write my name, yeah\nIf it's forever or never, it's all the same\nUnder the weather, feel much better\nWhen that weather isn't rain, yeah\n\nOoh, Cinderella\nDon't you run out of time\nIt feels like you've been takin'\nAll day, yeah\nWell, wherever you came from, wherever you goin'\nI promise I'm not far behind, yeah\nSo don't you dare throw this away\n\nI been meanin' to tell ya\nYou look better every day\nWrite you letters, it's only right that\nRight after love, I write my name, yeah\nAnd if it's forever or never, it's all the same\nUnder the weather, feel much better\nWhen that weather isn't rain"}
{"text":"My regrets look just like texts I shouldn't send\nAnd I got neighbors, they're more like strangers\nWe could be friends\nI just need a way out\nOf my head\nI'll do anything for a way out\nOf my head\n\nIn my own way, this feel like livin'\nSome alternate reality\nAnd I was drownin', but now I'm swimmin'\nThrough stressful waters to relief\nYeah, oh, the things I'd do\nTo spend a little time in Hell\nAnd what I won't tell you\nI'll prolly never even tell myself\nDon't you know that sunshine don't feel right\nWhen you inside all day?\nI wish it was nice out, but it look like rain\nGrey skies are driftin', not livin' forever\nThey told me it only gets better\n\nMy regrets look just like texts I shouldn't send\nAnd I got neighbors, they're more like strangers\nWe could be friends\nI just need a way out\nOf my head\nI'll do anything for a way out\nOf my headYou might also like"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nRap diablo\nYeah, yeah\n\nIt's the rap diablo, macho when I drop flows\nThe bar gets raised up, it's me and Petey Pablo\nColder than gazpacho, colder than the mono\nRappin' head honcho, rockin' shows like I was Bono\nI go play a couple keys on the piano\nThe industry a lie, all the promises were hollow\nFollow me, I could show you where we be's at\nHow'd I get my G-pass? None of your fuckin' beeswax\nThese raps bring a joint together like a kneecap\nFuck the little 8 balls, show me where the ki's at\nThe time continuum, Mortal Kombat finish 'em\nTryna find a balance, reachin' from my equilibrium\nFools I pity 'em, I'm not a human, I'm amphibian\nFake superhero like the Mystery Men, I ain't savin' nothin'\nI'm gettin' faded 'til the angels comin', skippin' all the famous functions\nHow do the famous function? The A-list can't be trusted\nI strong-arm 'em like I play the trumpet\nThe bottom barrel of society\nI tell my bitch if she don't love me, then just lie to me\nI'm finer than the winery\nTake it from the rich, this is piracy (Piracy)\nFinally, I don't even need my fuckin' eyes to see\nCome and die with me\nYou might also like\n'Cause everybody got dead homies\nOn the dead homies\nSaid everybody got dead homies\nOn the dead homies\nYeah, said everybody got dead homies\nOn the dead homies\nSaid everybody got dead homies\nOn the dead homies\n\nYeah, um\nOkay, my mind is Yoda, I'm on Ayatollah\nThese other rappers just a diet soda\nI find Jehovah in the darkest places, empty as apartment basements\nThis a marathon, gentlemen, go 'head and start the races\nSave the coffin spaces\nYou'll come up missin', tell your bitch that you been trippin', now you on vacation\nRappin' like it's automated, lights I keep 'em on like Vegas\nLava makin', so hot I'm turnin' hog to bacon\nOnly God can save him, I heard the monsters made him\nI ain't a star, I'm way farther with the constellations\nContemplatin' suicide like it's a DVD\nLost inside my mind, it's a prison, homie, leave me be\nYou can see me bleed, I be with the freaks and geeks\nBitch, I never miss a beat, I'm Charlie Conway, triple deke\nGordon Bombay in these streets, ballin' like I'm Pistol Pete\nBeen a beast, every word I spit rewritin' history\nLook at what you did to me, look at what you did to me\nRun into the underworld with guns and set the sinners free\nNo bitches in my circle, I'm the show, you the commercial\nI been poppin' like a kernel, readin' Justin Bieber's journal\nTreat you like a urinal\n'Cause everybody got dead homies\nOn the dead homies\nSaid everybody got dead homies\nOn the dead homies\nYeah, said everybody got dead homies\nOn the dead homies\nSaid everybody got dead homies\nOn the dead homies"}
{"text":"Where are you?\nOh-oh (Hehehe)\nOh\nThe Divine Feminine, an album by Mac Miller\nOh-oh (The Divine Feminine, hehehe)\nThe Divine Feminine\nOoh (Hehehe, hehe)\n\nAm I supposed to? Okay... love\nLove, love, love, love, love (Sex)\nLove, love, love, love, love, love, love (Sex)\n\nThis sun don't shine when I'm alone\nI lose my mind and I lose control\nI see your eyes look through my soul\nDon't be surprised, this all I know\nI felt the highs and they feel like you\nSee, a love like mine is too good to be true\nAnd you too divine to just be mine\nYou remind me of the color blue\nGirl, I'm so in love with you, yeah\nGirl, I'm so in love with you\nYou might also like\nYeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah (Baby), yeah, yeah\nUm, well\n\nBaby, you were everything I ever wanted\nBought a wedding ring, it's in my pocket\nPlanned to ask the other day\nKnew you'd run away, so I guess I just forgot it\nRemember when you went away to college?\nHours on the phone, we end up talkin'\nPast, present, future, all the gossip, goddamn\nPuppy love ain't what it was, darlin'\nFeelings that we have are so alarmin'\nI can make you laugh, I can break the glass\nIf we made it last, it'd be a bargain\nMr. Charmin', that is my department\nYou was there before the fancy cars and\nYou was there when I was just a starvin' artist\nWhen the car was havin' trouble startin'\nNow we got our own apartment, same box for the mail\nSame hamper for the laundry, the food in the fridge is stale\nAnd this mornin' you cooked the eggs with the kale\nI tried to hit it while you was gettin' dressed\nYou said, \"All you ever think about is sex\"\nI'm like, \"Oh well, you know me so well\nAnd if this what make you late, I swear, I won't tell\nAnd every time I call your phone, you better pick up your cell\nI swear to God I'ma freak out if it go straight to voice mail\"\nWell, I'm the jealous type\nBut I swear that ass is what Heaven's like\nAnd when I'm in that pussy, it's a better life\nThat's the only way I'm tryna end the night\nIt's my only chance, I better get it right\nTake your time, my baby\nIt's all waitin' for you, for you\nI know I make your mind go crazy\nBut it's all waitin' right here for you, for you\n\nYou get closer with, run away\nAll I ever known is the color gray\nYour lovely ways bring me sunshine\nI found an angel so divine\nHeaven probably not the same without you\nBut now you're in my world, in my world\nAh-ah-ah\nAh-ah-ah-ah\nAh-ah-ah\nAh-ah-ah-ah"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah\n\nI can't keep on\nLosin' you over complications\nGone too soon, wait!\nWe was just hangin'\nI can't seem to hold onto\nDang\nThe people that know me best\nThe key that I won't forget, too soon\nI can't keep on losin' you\nI can't keep on losin' you\n\nYeah\nYeah, yeah\nHow many mistakes do it take 'til you leave\nAnd I'm left with my hand on my face, all red\nIn the face, lookin' at you like \"wait!\"\nI know I ain't a saint, if it ain't too late, well...\n(I can't keep on losin' you) Don't run away so fast\nKnow my heart like gold, but it break like glass\nKnow my shit get old and I act so young\nBaby, you so cold, never have no sun\nYou don't wanna grow up, yeah, that shit no fun\nSo when I get home, I'ma give you some\nMake you feel like (Woo) when I hit that drum\nYeah, the dick ain't free, I don't give no fucks\nYeah, it's complicated, got you frustrated\nGet home late and you don't trust me, baby\nWay too drunk, you don't know what I'm sayin'\nYou can drive my car, don't drive me crazy\nComplicated, got you frustrated\nEvery single night I keep you waitin'\nYou say you don't care, that's what you sayin'?\nWe both know that's some bullshit\nOkay, we be fightin', we be reunitin'\nKiss me, touch me, tease me, me excited\nGod, the devil, who is who?\nTryna get through to you because...\nYou might also like\nI can't keep on\nLosin' you over complications\nGone too soon, wait!\nWe was just hangin'\nI can't seem to hold onto\nDang\nThe people that know me best\nThe key that I won't forget, too soon\nI can't keep on losin' you\n\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\n\nWell\nYou can't go away, girl, I'ma need you\nPlay your games like they my ticket to an Ivy League school\nWon't get Hall of Fame dick from a minor league dude\nI just eat pussy, other people need food (Hahaha)\nOnly got a little time and I ain't tryna spend it\nArguin' about who ain't givin' who attention\nStartin' up the engine, need to reboot\nI just eat pussy, other people need food\nAnd I use every bone in my body\nKeep on holdin' on to your trust\nI know you don't want nuttin' to do with me\nBut just one more time, let's make love\nOne more time, it ain't much, fuck 'em all, let's be us\nSummer's soft sweetness\nCall late drunk, you hang up\nWhat a mess I made us, sense, I make none\nIt's complicated, keepin' me up late\nCan't concentrate, you're always on my brain\nIf it's love, then why the fuck it come with pain?\nI just think that's some bullshit\nOkay, it seem invitin', trust me, she's a titan\nThis week she like him, next week they fightin'\nNeed protection, all your dresses bulletproof\nYou're safe with me, girl\nI can't keep on losin' you\nWhere the hell you goin'?\nWhere you takin' this trip to? Wait!\nDon't move, don't stay, too\nI can't keep on losin' you\nWhere the hell you goin'?\nWait!\nWhere the hell you goin'?\n\nI can't keep on\nLosin' you over complications\nGone too soon, wait!\nWe was just hangin'\nI can't seem to hold onto\nDang\nThe people that know me best\nThe key that I won't forget, too soon\nI can't keep on losin' you\n\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nCan't keep losin' you\nWoo"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisSvenskaEspa\u00f1olMy Favorite Part Lyrics\nI don't know why, I think that he makes me smile\n\nSaid, you just don't know how beautiful you are\nAnd, baby, that's my favorite part\nYou walk around so clueless to it all\nLike nobody gonna break your heart\nIt'll be alright, babe, see, me, I got you covered\nI'm gon' be your lover, you might be the one\nIf it's only tonight, ayy, we don't need to worry\nWe ain't in a hurry, rushin' into love\n\nSaid, you know I know who you really are, ain't need to lie\nSaid, the Universe couldn't keep us apart\nWhy would it even try?\nYeah, said, don't let them hurt you ever\nI know you far too smart\nBefore things come together, they have to fall apart\nIt's been a while since I've been sober\nThis life can be so hard, I'd rather talk about you\n\nSaid, you just don't know how beautiful you are\nAnd, baby, that's my favorite part (Oh)\nYou walk around so clueless to it all\nLike nobody gonna break your heart\nIt'll be alright, babe, see, me, I got you covered\nI'm gon' be your lover, you might be the one\nIf it's only tonight, ayy, we don't need to worry\nWe ain't in a hurry, rushin' into love, yeah, yeah\nYou might also like\nIf you wanna stay, we're takin' it slow, baby\n'Cause you want me, and I got enough on my mind\nBut I can make some time for somethin' so divine, oh, yeah\n\nSaid, you just don't know how beautiful you are (Yeah)\nAnd, baby, that's my favorite part, baby\nYou walk around so clueless to it all\nLike nobody gonna break your heart\nIt'll be alright, babe, see, me, I got you covered\nI'm gon' be your lover, you might be the one\nIf it's only tonight, ayy, we don't need to worry\nWe ain't in a hurry, rushin' into love"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsBest Day Ever Lyrics\nI never take a day off\nWork around the clock, my engineer gettin' paid off\nRock like Aesop, light the weed and take off\nSo high I cannot see, Adolf\nNow I got these rappers all breakin' up a sweat\n'Cause every time I get up on the mic, it come correct\nAnd I learned it from the best, always dressed in somethin' fresh\nLookin' for a little dime, big butt, and nice chest\nYes, they heard I used to rock Guess\nBut now I'm rockin' clothes that ain't in the stores yet\nTravel back in time, I'm in a vortex\nTryna make it work out, think I need more reps\nUsed to take a bus, now the boy board jets\n'Cause K.I.D.S. got me buzzin' like a fuckin' hornet\nThey say I got next, tell them that I got now\nIt's all Disney, boy, my family Proud\nMake 'em say, \"Ow,\" make 'em say, \"Oh\"\nThe hoes that tell me \"Yes,\" the same ones that tell ya \"No\"\nWhoa, I ain't just an Average Joe, way above the average flow\nBoy, my life is Most Dope, uh\n\nNo matter where life takes me, find me with a smile\nPursuit to be happy, only laughin' like a child\nI never thought life would be this sweet\nIt got me cheesin' from cheek to cheek, ayy, ayy\nAnd I ain't gonna wait for nothin'\n'Cause that just ain't my style\nLife couldn't get better\nThis gon' be the best day ever\nYou might also like\nIf it ain't about a dream, then it ain't about me\nGo a couple full weeks without a good night's sleep\nImagination, makin', musical creation\nThe journey that I'm facin' plus the paper that I'm chasin'\nGot me crazy, half-insane, and with the lames I see you hatin'\nBut there's nothin' that you changin', thumbs up, I'm maintainin'\nNo complainin' when it's rainin', I'll be in another zone\nMove out my mother's home to a world I call my own\nI ain't gonna play around no more\nFind a difference from the ground and the floor\nIf we got a fight, I'll be down for the war\nThumbs up, homie, I'll be sure\n\nNo matter where life takes me, find me with a smile\nPursuit to be happy, only laughin' like a child\nI never thought life would be this sweet\nIt got me cheesin' from cheek to cheek, ayy, ayy\nAnd I ain't gonna wait for nothin'\n'Cause that just ain't my style\nLife couldn't get better\nThis gon' be the best day ever"}
{"text":"Yeah\nYeah-yeah, yeah-yeah\nWhoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa\nYeah-yeah\nWhoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa\nYeah-yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah\nWhoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa\nYeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah\nWell, okay\n\nI'm always sayin' I won't change but\nI ain't the same (Same)\nEverything is different, I can't complain\nYou don't know what you missin', shame on you\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah) Shame on you (Yeah)\nEverything is strange (Strange), that's just a game (Game)\nEverybody trippin' (Woo,) throwin\u2019 it away (Yeah)\nWe was gettin' lifted, now we gettin' paid\nShame on you (Yeah)\n\nA\u2014a'ight, a'ight\nI paid the cost to see apostrophes\nThat means it's mine (Yeah,) keep to myself, takin' my time (Uh-huh)\nAlways into some bullshit, and outta line\nDrivin' with my eyes closed, missin' all the signs\nTurn the ignition, I'm driven and sittin' pretty (Pretty)\nListenin' to Whitney and whippin' it through the city, yeah (Yeah, yeah)\nMan on a mission, figure it out\nPuttin' way too much on my shoulders, please hold me down (Down, down)\nI keep my head above the water (Water)\nMy eyes gettin' bigger, so the world is gettin' smaller (Smaller)\nI be gettin' richer but that only made me crazy\nMama told me I was different even when I was a baby\nThat Mercedes through the P.A. when I pull up (Pull up), soundin' like a concert\nOr a (or a), or a monster truck, I'm trippin' but I'm fallin' up\nAlways said I want it all, but it's not enough\nWell, o-kay (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nI'm always sayin' I won't change but\nI ain't the same (Same)\nEverything is different, I can't complain\nYou don't know what you missin', shame on you\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah) Shame on you (Yeah)\nAnd everything is strange (Strange), that's just a game (Game)\nEverybody trippin' (Woo,) throwin\u2019 it away (Yeah)\nWe was gettin' lifted, now we gettin' paid\nShame on you (Yeah)\n\nWe only just begun\nNo, we don't wanna hurt your feelings\n'Cause it\u2019s only just begun\nNo, we don't wanna\nHurt (Hurt) feelings (Feelings)\n\nDown go the system, long live the king (King)\nTurn the power off and get your water from the spring (Spring)\nI'm bringing everyone with me when shit get iffy (Yeah)\nI give a hundred and fifty percent\nThis is the shit that I'm dealing with, but I wish I'd forget\nUsed to be feelin' depressed, now that I'm livin' I'm a little obsessed, yes\nHigh in Jacuzzis, I be hittin' the jets\nI'm showing her some love she been givin' me sex (Bless, bless)\nRespect to Adonai\nDon't fuck around and be a victim of your pride, why you lyin'?\n(Why you lyin'?) Tell the truth, just step aside\nI don't got the time to let it slide (Yep)\nI'm too grounded, push whips that move mountains\nNew cribs, blue fountains, these are my surroundings\nI've been going through it, you just go around it\nBut it's really not that different when you think about it\nI'm always sayin' I won't change but\nI ain't the same (Same)\nEverything is different, I can't complain\nYou don't know what you missin', shame on you\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah) Shame on you (Yeah)\nAnd everything is strange (Strange), that's just a game (Game)\nEverybody trippin' (Woo,) throwin\u2019 it away (Yeah)\nWe was gettin' lifted, now we gettin' paid\nShame on you (Yeah)\n\nHurt\nFeelings"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsTranslationsSvenskaEspa\u00f1ol\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439ItalianoCircles Lyrics\nWell, this is what it look like right before you fall\nStumblin' around, you've been guessin'\u2005your\u2005direction\nNext step, you\u2005can't see at all\nAnd I don't\u2005have a name, I don't have a name, no\nWho am I to blame? Who am I to blame though?\nAnd I cannot be changed, I cannot be changed, no\nTrust me, I've tried\nI just end up right at the start of the line\nDrawin' circles\nMmm\n\nWell, I drink my whiskey and you sip your wine\nWe're doing well, sittin', watchin' the world fallin' down, its decline\nAnd I can keep you safe, I can keep you safe, mmm\nDo not be afraid, do not be afraid\nYou're feelin' sorry, I'm feelin' fine\nDon't you put any more stress on yourself, it's one day at a time\nIt's gettin' pretty late, gettin' pretty late\nDamn, and I find\nIt goes around like the hands that keep countin' the time\nDrawin' circlesYou might also like"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsDonald Trump Lyrics\nHey\nAyo, Sap! What's good, bruh?\nThis man's kinda high out here *Laughs*\n\nAyo, the flyest ma'fucker in the room, yeah, you know it's me\nBitches hatin' on him 'cause he started out here locally\nHopefully, I'll be at the top soon\nFor now, I'm at my house on the couch watchin' cartoons\nYou know how much you love it when you get it in abundance\nGive a fuck about a budget when you always be the subject of discussion\nBut it's nothin' when you stop and just say, \"fuck it\"\n'Cause you walkin' out in public and you hear 'em talkin' rubbish\nI just wanna ride, ride through the city in a Cutlass\nFind a big butt bitch somewhere, get my nuts kissed\nThat's the way it goes when you party just like I do\nBitches on my dick that used to brush me off in high school\n\nTake over the world when I'm on my Donald Trump shit\nLook at all this money! Ain't that some shit?\nTake over the world when I'm on my Donald Trump shit\nLook at all this money! Ain't that some shit? (Hey)\nWe gon' take over the world while these haters gettin' mad\nThat's why all my bitches bad, they see this crazy life I have\nAnd they in awe, we gon' win, you can take the lose or draw\nWhat I'm in got these hoes who used to play me in they bras\nWe gon' take over the world while these haters gettin' mad\nTake over the world, watch these haters get mad\nThat's why all my bitches bad, they see this crazy life I have\nHop into the car and then we take 'em to the pad, it's a wrap\nYou might also like\nUh, uh, uh\nAnd ma'fuckers think they know me, but they never met the kid\nStyle come with excellence and money make benevolence\nIrrelevant for the fuckers who never been intelligent\nI kill my Henny, break the bottle for the hell of it\nTell a bitch that she better bring her friends\nAnd if she want an autograph she better bring a pen\nYeah, the party never end, this life is what I recommend\nAnd if you got a ho picked for me, then she better be a 10\nI ain't picky, but these girls be actin' tricky\nWhen the situation's sticky and the liquor got 'em silly\n\nBut I take over the world when I'm on my Donald Trump shit\nLook at all this money! Ain't that some shit?\nWe gon' take over the world while these haters gettin' mad\nThat's why all my bitches bad, they see this crazy life I have\nAnd they in awe, we gon' win, you can take the lose or draw\nWhat I'm in got these hoes who used to play me in they bras\nWe gon' take over the world while these haters gettin' mad\nTake over the world, watch these haters get mad\nThat's why all my bitches bad, they see this crazy life I have\nHop into the car and then we take 'em to the pad, it's a wrap"}
{"text":"Uh, close your eyes\n\nSo watch her do the Macarena, somewhere out by Pasadena\nLove a drug that everybody here just tryna get a taste of\nYou a waster of the space that you take up\nLivin', this time around I'm not kiddin'\nI had an intuition 'bout these women and suspicion\nGot me lookin' at shit different, how a man in my position\nCan't start slippin' down these slopes 'cause it's all just downhill from there\nAs a kid I didn't learn that, but now I'm aware\nWhen you a youngin', you just tryna live your life and have some fun\nIn a world where you have yet to see how evil it's become\nIt's hard to have a dream when you deep inside of one\nAnd I know you hate them spirits, so I keep 'em in my lungs\nI'm a Beatle to these young kids\nBut sometimes, I be feelin' like a needle to these young kids\nYou had the world, you 'bout to leave it to these young kids\nAnd we gon' show you what the love is\n\nStay high\nGo for what you know\nLet it in your mental\nAnd don't ever let it go\nIt won't stop!\nYou can't fight the feeling\nFeeling\nYou can't fight the feeling, no\nIt won't stop!\nYou can't fight the feeling\nFeeling\nYou can't fight the feeling, no (Ugh)\nYou might also like\nAnd I keep a couple Most Dope homies by me\nSo there ain't too many times it's me, myself and Irene\nWe stay smokin' through the night, wake up, do some tai-chi\nHomie, can't you see I'm chillin'? Please don't fuck up my chi\nYeah, my jacket Y-3, recently been up on fashion\nWaste a bunch of money, kinda stinks of satisfaction\nFell asleep at Hollywood, woke up in Manhattan\nBallin' like I'm Jordan, but I'm fresh as Mars Blackmon\nA penny for your thoughts, a dollar for your dreams\nA price on a idea, we never can agree\nThey tell you what to know, but it's better to believe\nSo why you tryna act like what you never gonna be?\nStill I tell em, \"Fuck what you know, I'm feelin' comfortable\"\nJust continue livin' life, 'cause enough of 'em don't\nYou spent your days countin' every single penny made\nBetter start now, 'cause we comin' for you anyways\n\nStay high\nGo for what you know (Yeah)\nLet it in your mental (Macadelic)\nAnd don't ever let it go\nIt ain't never gon' stop, 'cause\nYou can't fight the feeling\n(No) Feeling\nYou can't fight the feeling, no\nUgh, I told you it won't stop, 'cause\nYou can't fight the feeling\nFeeling\nYou can't fight the feeling, no\nSometimes I wake up, up in the morning, make her\nWrap this much make-up off my bed, soon as she's yawnin', take up\nHours upon days just to find power shit to say\nBut you won't hear it even if your ears was pierced with Beats by Dre, I mean\nThe sun is slowly fallin', we all surely should die eventually\nSo what's your calling? Oh, you left your phone behind?\nIdentity crisis, break mirrors, vices steer us through wickedness\nJesus Christ is right near us, and Devil said you owe ten percent\nSold your soul, I know, sold your soul and you're hopeless\nMy focus, stare at elopin' on boats that float in the open of oceans\nThat coast the line on the margins I rhyme, you chokin' or soakin' up game\nI'm hopin' you picked the second one, shame\nThe emotion of jealousy that you're holdin', you're tellin' me\nThat you're golden but really cubic zirconia, let me see\nI'll break you down like a pound of fire, whenever\nYour tactics are mighty clever but even if you're Mayweather you\n\nYou can't fight the feeling\nFeeling\nYou can't fight the feeling, no\nIt won't stop!\nYou can't fight the feeling\nFeeling\nYou can't fight the feeling, no\nFuck me\nI want you to fuck me (I want you to fuck me)\nI want you to fuck me (Oh yeah)\nOh, fuck\nOh, fuck\nOh, fuck\nDon't stop\nStop"}
{"text":"I'm thinkin' maybe I should thank you\nOh, baby, I should buy you another round\n'Cause you\u2005care,\u2005and I swear\u2005that I'm here, but I'm there\nIt's\u2005gettin' harder to hunt me down\nGet away to a place with a lake, such a great view\nLeave the bank, couple hunnid thou'\nI made it, but I hate once I build it, I break it\nThat might just break me down\n\nAnd all I ever needed was somebody with some reason who can keep me sane\nEver since I can remember, I've been keepin' it together, but I'm feelin' strange\nGet away when it ain't really safe and it don't seem right\nBut what's new? You get used to the bullshit, the screws, they go missin'\nIt's likely they might be, but...\n\nYou remind me\nShit, I need to stay in line\nYou damn well are a great design\nYou, despite bein' an only child\nSay you need more of a family 'round\nLet's turn these genes into hand me downs\n\nDown, down\nDown, down, down\nDown, down\nDown, down, down\nYou might also like\nYeah, well, I'm just being honest, my conscience ain't doin' bad\nBecause I try to minus the problems that I attract\nAnd half the time, the wheels that's in the back of my mind\nJust keep on turnin' 'til the tires flat and burn until the fire crack\nI do not lie, though, facts may seem a little farfetched\nThat's only 'cause I may be make-believe and full of darkness\nWhen I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place\nWalkin', droppin' change inside your empty guitar case\nThat's charity, um, I move carelessly, that's why I'm always trippin'\nI guess it's like electrolytes, you help me go the distance\nNot too efficient, but the way it's always been\nUntil the day we have to meet again\n\nGet away when it ain't really safe and it don't seem right\nBut what's new? You get used to the bullshit, the screws, they go missin'\nIt's likely they might be, but...\n\nYou remind me\nShit, I need to stay in line\nYou damn well are a great design\nYou, despite bein' an only child\nSay you need more of a family 'round\nLet's turn these genes into hand me downs\nDown, down\nDown, down, down\nDown, down\nDown, down, down"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsThe Spins Lyrics\nDope shit like that, Jerm\nOh, hi\nWelcome back to K.I.D.S., um\nFollow your dreams\nYeah\n\nWanna get a mansion, a jacuzzi\nA theater to watch my movies\nCouple whips and lots of fancy things\nThe kids they call the Goonies\nI see the future, crystal ball\nMirror mirror hangin' on the wall\nWho the flyest white boy of them all?\nGot your girlfriend screenin' all the calls\nShe bubblin', we fuckin', then you cuddlin'\nLike, baby, where the fuck you been?\nDon't wanna tell you she in love with him\nSo, so we ain't sayin' nothin'\nYou could probably tell she bluffin'\n'Cause she kiss you with the mouth\nShe gave me head with my concussion\nYeah, she blushin', all red\nWanna rush and go to bed\nYou interrogate that bitch like you the feds\nSo she says she in love with a rockstar, rockstar\nWanna smoke my weed, so she asks me where the tops are, tops are\nYou might also like\nOh (Top drawer, haha), oh, oh (Yeah)\nHoney, I need you 'round (Haha)\nI know, I know (Just some motherfuckin' kids)\nOh, oh, oh\nHoney, I need you 'round (Make money, fuck bitches)\nI know (Yeah), I know (Pittsburgh, hey, Jerm, hey)\n\nThese hoes is drunk, wanna come and smoke this blunt\nThen let me take 'em home and do anything I want\nI said, baby, I can ride you, just let me get inside you\nI can take you higher if you hit this vaporizer\nI got that dope dick, I'll be your supplier\nYou grabbin' on my sheets and hittin' notes like you Mariah\nObsessed with me\nUndress a freak on ecstasy\nI'm out and then she textin' me\nLike, \"What you doin' next week, next week?\" (Yeah)\n\nHear me now\nI'm down on knees and praying\nThough my faith is weak\nWithout you so please, baby, please\nGive us a chance\nMake amends and I will stand up 'til the end\nA million times, a trillion more (Hey)\nOh, oh, oh (Hey, I just wanted to inform y'all)\nHoney, I need you 'round (I'm drunk as fuck)\nI know, I know (Most Dope, bitch, hey)\nOh, oh, oh (K.I.D.S., what's up?)\nHoney, I need you 'round (I'm high as fuck, yeah, yes, sir)\nI know, I know (Oh, I graduated, oh yeah, I just graduated high school, haha)\n\nHey, homie\nDon't be mad that your girl loves me (Don't cut anything yet)\nIt's not my fault (Yeah)\nI'm just doin' me (Haha)\nIf your girl love me, let her love me, you feel me?\nSo, baby\nSmile (Uh-huh)\nBaby, don't cry\nI will only fly\nWith you by my side"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah\n\nThe world is so small 'til it ain't, yeah\nI'm buildin' up a wall 'til it break\nShe hate it when I call and it's late\nI don't wanna keep you waitin'\nI hope I never keep you waitin', yeah\n\nI think I know it all but I don't\nWhy you always at the mall when you're broke? Yeah\nAnd I just wanna ball\nMaybe dunk, but I never been tall, yeah\nI might trip, I never fall\nGod knows I came close (Don't try this at home)\nI know I probably need to do better\nFuck whoever, keep my shit together\nYou never told me bein' rich was so lonely\nNobody know me, oh well\nHard to complain from this five-star hotel\nI'm always in a rush, I've been thinkin' too much, but\nKeep it on the hush, no one need to know, just us\n\nThat's really all it takes\nWe don't need nothin' but today (Day), today (Day)\nToday (Day), today (Day)\nYou might also like\nThe world is so small 'til it ain't\n('Til it ain't, 'til it ain't, 'til it ain't)\nI'm buildin' up a wall 'til it break\n('Til it break, 'til it break, 'til it break)\nShe hate it when I call and it's late\n(And it's late, and it's late)\nI don't wanna keep you waitin' (I don't wanna keep you waitin')\nI hope I never keep you waitin' (I hope I never keep you waitin')\n\nWoo (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWoo (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWoo (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWoo (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nYeah, got a bad attitude, playin' 'til I'm out of moves\nNo need for shame, I get mo' peace at slow speeds\nGo beat the game, young control freak\nIt's cold in my veins, I'm below freezin', snow season (Made me)\nThey know that I so need my space\nDon't wanna grow old so I smoke just in case\nShe say that I glow below the waist\nAnd the stroke is just so PGA\nAll I got is a little bit of space and time\nDrawin' shapes and lines of a world we made\nTomorrow may be right around the corner\nBut I swear it's gon' be worth it if I make you wait\nThere's somewhere above you, keep reachin' up\nThat's really all it takes (That's really all it takes)\nWe don't need nothin' but today (Day), today (Day)\nToday (Day), today (Day)\n\nThe world is so small 'til it ain't\n('Til it ain't, 'til it ain't, 'til it ain't)\nI'm buildin' up a wall 'til it break\n('Til it break, 'til it break, 'til it break)\nShe hate it when I call and it's late\n(And it's late, and it's late)\nI don't wanna keep you waitin' (I don't wanna keep you waitin')\nI hope I never keep you waitin'\n\nYeah, nine times out of ten I get it wrong\nThat's why I wrote this song, tell myself to hold on\nI can feel my fingers slippin'\nIn a motherfuckin' instant, I'll be gone\nDo you want it all if it's all mediocre?\nStarin' at the wall and the wall full of posters\nLookin' at my dreams, who I wanna be?\nI guess you gotta see it to believe\nOoh, I been a fool but it's cool, that's what human beings do\nKeep your eyes to the sky, never glued to your shoes\nGuess there was a time when my mind was consumed\nBut the sun comin' out now, clouds start to move\nDon't tell me nothin' but the truth\nI'm tired, I don't got a spare second\nWin or lose, win or lose\nI don't keep count, nobody checkin'"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easLadders Lyrics\nSomehow we gotta find a way\nNo matter how many miles it take\nI know it feels so good right now\nBut it all come fallin' down\nWhen the night, meet the light\nTurn to day\n\nCan't stop, then you won't stop\nI know just how that feel\nWhen you're on top, 'til the ball drop\nYou've never seen it be so real\nIt feels so good right now\nBut it all come fallin' down\nWhen the night, meet the light\nTurn to day\n\nFeel it a little, feel it a lot\nI'm swimmin' a bit, but deeper in thought\nKeepin' my head on top of my shoulders\nInto some shit, I'm out of the box\nThis the level I'm on\nNeedin' it all right now, when forever is gone\nBaby, the weather is strong\nWhether it's hot or cold\nI'm comin', knockin' on yo' door\nWell, I'ma, I'ma maintain how I'm stayin' so high\nPut the ladder all the way up 'til we touchin' the sky\nAnd you know you're dead wrong, you're in love with a lie\nAll I, all I, all I wanna do is free yo' mind\nWe don't see no lines, we don't color inside\nIt's a very small world, we don't fuck with the size\nYeah, see the bigger picture when it's beneficial\nLovin' how I fit you\nBlow the whistle when you run out of time\nYeah, wakin' up, I open up my eyes\nDo you mind if I blow yo' mind?\nA little closer, baby, don't be shy\nWhy you worried that it's gon' be fine?\nI guess it's that kinda day\nIt's really all I'm tryna say\nWe don't have a lot of time to waste\nSomehow we gotta find a way\nYou might also like\nSomehow we gotta find a way\nNo matter how many miles it takes\nI know it feels so good right now\nBut it all come fallin' down\nWhen the night, meet the light\nTurn to day\n\nI wouldn't wait forever\nJust shoot yo' shot\nWe don't need no more, no extras\nWe all we got\n\n\nYeah, yeah\nAll the- lights flickerin', hittin' the right switches\nI'm livin' this life different and missin' the flight bullshittin'\nI had a plan to change, you can't stand the rain\nLittle delayed, but I came and you cool wit' it\nI don't trip, flip or lose my grip\nAnd I don't know it all, but I do know this\nBefore you know me, better know self\nI've been in this shit so long that it don't smell\nI turn the hotel to a castle\nLivin' like a king for a grand\nI don't do nothin', that's a hassle\nBesides, even that castle made of sand\nJust might slip into the sea\nFuck it all, if it all ain't me\nMaybe we inside the maze\nSomehow we gotta find a way, okay\nSomehow we gotta find a way\nNo matter how many miles it takes\nI know it feels so good right now\nBut it all come fallin' down\nWhen the night, meet the light\nTurn to day\n\nI wouldn't wait forever\nJust shoot yo' shot\nWe don't need no more, no extras\nWe all we got\n"}
{"text":"\nAhem, ahem\nGood evening everybody\nHow's everybody doing?\nJust wanna ask you a question, um, have you, have you\nHave you been in love, before?\n\nYou like your vodka with a little touch of lime\nYou should pro'bly take your heels off, 'cause you been runnin' through my mind\nOh baby, they say we're no good for each other\nAnd I can't really tell, what is this spell you put me under?\nYour love's not too kind to me\nI hate the pain, these days of rain\nYou playin' games of hide and seek, my love\nAnd I'm still tryna find you, I'm lookin' for you, babe\nAnd I'm still tryna find you, through sunshine or rain\n\n]\nI love you\n\nYeah\nYou got your stained glass iris, diamond behind your eyelids\nAutopilot fly, my heart skip a beat like a scratched CD\nYour skin smell like butterscotch and your lips taste like kiwi\nLet's take a plane to Fiji, make a date, let's take it easy\nLove is power, swear there's somethin' 'bout her that make me nervous\nMother Earth done gave us all a gift, she made you perfect\nLet's eat some mushrooms and go to the circus\nGirl, you know I'm lovin' you just like you deserve it (Ou)\nSo, baby, make me earn it, show me the way you work it\nTell me what you afraid of, I'll spit you my favorite verses\nLet's... just go take a breath\nI want it all, every ounce of love that you got left\nYou are my drug, in love to death, feel free to fall, you are a catch\nI'm in your heart, I'm in your dream, so fuck the world, it's you and me\nShe is the only one that got away\nIf her love don't last forever then forever ain't the same, yeah\nYou might also like\nYour love is not too kind to me\nYou know my love is sugar-sweet, yeah\nThe only thing on my mind is she\nYou think about you, I've been thinking of me\nMy love, my love\nMy love, my love, yeah\nAnd I know that nothin' lasts forever (Nothing lasts forever)\nNothin' lasts forever\n\nYeah\nAnd she is cool, calm and collected, I knew that you was the one\nWhen I seen ya, leave me breathless, a-okay, I need a second\nDay-to-day, give me attention, I want to take care of you\nMarry you, somethin' I'm prepared to do, there can't be two\nYou was here, I ran from you, scared to take that step\nBut now that I am ready, you not, you up and left me\nHope your new man make you laugh like I do\nI do not mean to worry you with my obsession, I just want to be beside you\nI'm too nice, and I had to pay that price\nEverything I do is wrong (Wrong,) everything you do is right (Right)\nLet's start a family, hold on to forever, baby\nYour pussy is a palace and your head is crazy *Woman moans*\nThat bomb is detonating, look at this mess you're making\nI am the king, you are the queen, look at this chess we're playing\nOh we had a love, that love was record-breaking\nI'm sick of waitin', yeah\nYour love is not too kind to me\nYou know my love is sugar-sweet, yeah\nThe only thing on my mind is she\nYou think about you, I've been thinking of me\nMy love, my love\nMy love, my love, yeah\nAnd I know that nothing lasts forever (Nothing lasts forever)\nNothing lasts forever, ever, ever\n\nSo gimme all of your love\nAnd I will be yours, through rain and through shine\nGimme all of your love\nYou will be mine through rain and through shine\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah\n(Gimme your loving, babe) Yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"Yeah\n\nYou can love it, you can leave it\nThey say you're nothin' without it\nDon't let them keep you down\nWhat if I don't need it?\nThere's somethin' about it\nThat just freaks me out\nI just want another minute wit' it, fuck a little\nWhat's the use?\nNever superficial, you gon' know it when it hit you\nGet a little sentimental when I'm off the juice\n\nYeah\nOkay, we're colder than the breeze\nBut the breeze ain't flowin' like me, motherfucker, hol' up\nYou don't need to hol' up, yeah\nAnd I can show you how I seem\nWhat it is, what it truly might be, nothin' that you know of\nYou don't need to hol' up\nI'm so a-bove and beyond\nYou take drugs to make it up way up where we on\nSpace shuttle, Elon\nTime, we don't waste much, fuck when we wake up\nThen I have her sing just like C\u00e9line Dion\nCatch me if you can but, you'll never catch me, damn\nWhole lotta, \"Yes, I am\"\nAll the way in wit' no exit plan\nAlready left and the jet don't land\nYeah, the time is tickin', come take a ride, get inside\nThis is highly different, I'm talkin' fly, got a pilot wit' 'im, uh\nCan I mind my business?\nWhy you trippin'? Give you somethin' that your eyes can witness\nOoh, you're too close\nI don't understand why you doin' the most\nYou might also like\nYou can love it, you can leave it\nThey say you're nothin' without it\nDon't let them keep you down\nWhat if I don't need it?\nThere's somethin' about it\nThat just freaks me out\nI just (I just) want a (Want a) 'nother ('Nother) minute (Minute) wit' it\nFuck a little, what's the use?\nWhat's the use? (Use)\nNever (Never) super- (Super) -ficial (Ficial)\nYou gon' (You gon') know it (Know it) when it (When it) hit you (Hit you)\nGet a (Get a) little (Little) senti- (Senti) -mental when I'm off the juice (Turn it up)\n\nWell, I'ma give you what you came for, yeah\nShit, I've worked too hard to have a clue who you are\nSet the bar so far above par, we can parlay all day\nCrib long range with the yard\nI know I should probably pray more but you gotta love me\n'Cause I save the day, spend money\nWhen I had nothin', shit, it wasn't so funny\nMade a promise to the homies nobody go hungry\nLook how far we came, still they throwin' dirt on my name\nBut it never worry my brain\nHeads turnin' like a hurricane swervin'\nTell the sun, \"Get up outta my shade\"\nIf they don't get the picture, cut 'em outta that frame, shit\nI'm up thirty thou' miles plus change\nIt's been a while but I'm down 'til I'm out\nAnd it is what it is 'til it ain't, yeah\nOoh-oh, up above the clouds\nOoh, I just wanna fly\nAh-ah-ah-ah-ha\n\nYou can love it, you can leave it\nThey say you're nothin' without it\nDon't let them keep you down\nWhat if I don't need it?\nThere's somethin' about it\nThat just freaks me out\nI just (I just) want a (Want a) 'nother ('Nother) minute (Minute) wit' it\nFuck a little, what's the use?\nWhat's the use? (Use)\nNever (Never) super- (Super) -ficial (Ficial)\nYou gon' (You gon') know it (Know it) when it (When it) hit you (Hit you)\nGet a (Get a) little (Little) senti- (Senti) -mental when I'm off the juice (Juice)\n\nYou can love it\nIt just freaks me out"}
{"text":"\nYeah\nHaha\n\nUh, think I can see a fuckin' halo (Halo), about to meet my maker\nBrought a double cup of Drano (Drano), some soda for the flavor\nUncontrollable behavior with some psychopathic tendencies\nLonely as your neighbor with the bitches, he got special needs (Sheesh)\nWord to my denim fiends, I'm Kennedy on ecstasy\nMy flavor from the nature, need an acre for my recipe (Please)\nThey got my soul, but I don't let 'em take the rest of me\nMy melody, a little like Kenny G's, it's heavenly\nAnd my denim tailored (Tailored), me and Action rappin'\nAl be fuckin' with the fader (Fader), sippin' mind eraser\nActually, we rappin' for the fuck of it\nTakin' money from you, gonna smack you out in public\nYou the Republican government\nAbundance of substance, have a consumption to fuck a bitch (*Woman moans*)\nWith your Banana Republic fit, go suck a dick\nAnd your bitch lookin' like Cousin Itt, the ugliest\n\nI said it must be the drugs that got us thinkin' crazy shit (Woo)\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nGroupie bitches wild enough to suck a baby's dick\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nCadillacs is gettin' whipped a hundred eighty-fifth\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nJust for that sizzle, Gore-Tex in case of drizzle\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nI said it must be the drugs that got us thinkin' crazy shit\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nLookin' up into the clouds where the angels sit\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nThey lookin' down, keepin' watch 'til I'm dead\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nSo how'd I get this red dot on my head? (My head)\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nYou might also like\nYo, I don't perform unless the money's in my pocket first (Never)\nAfter rappin', take my people out for octopus (Spanish)\nWe all deserve it; dedication to the fam (Uh, uh)\nDon't hold your hand out for nothin' if you claim to be my man, damn\nYou see me peelin' off a whip like when your mother strip (Strip)\nBlow the dice, roll them shits, hit another trip (King Crack)\nShit, I'm on some shit\nHands are fuckin' hotter than the leather in the six in the summertime (Uh)\nUnderstand I'm only rhymin' for this son of mine\nAnd so my daughter can be a lawyer and reap the spoils\nWe ate the tuna, it's suede Puma\nMy look is Jay Buhner, doggy, \u2018cause some of us just age sooner (I'm goin', man)\nI'm still twisted, rockin' lizards from a strange river (River)\nForbidden jungle in the joint paper, point shaver\nCheck the bio (Bio)\nI fixed the game between Kentucky and Miami of Ohio, I been wild\n\nI said it must be the drugs that got us thinkin' crazy shit (Woo)\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nGroupie bitches wild enough to suck a baby's dick\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nCadillacs is gettin' whipped a hundred eighty fifth\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nJust for that sizzle, Gore-Tex in case of drizzle\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nI said it must be the drugs that got us thinkin' crazy shit\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nLookin' up into the clouds where the angels sit\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nThey lookin' down, keepin' watch 'til I'm dead\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nSo how'd I get this red dot on my head? (My head)\n(I said it must be the drugs)\nUh, uh\nBitch, I'm noddin' off, I'm hot as wasabi sauce\nAnd constantly givin' y'all a bit of this ambiance\nI was a minor chasin' after vagina\nNone of my friends were fake, but none of my clothes designer\nWent from posted on stoops (Stoops) to smokin' on roofs (Roofs)\nI came from that basement, now look at this view (View)\nMakin' this money (Money), blowin' it all (All)\nFuck what you did (Did), just show me results (Results)\n\nYo, I'm a 635 dipper, fly motherfucker\nLeather to the foot, horses, I led 'em to the brook\nIf you locked, then keep the chisel in the book\nI see a lion in the mirror when I look\nLook, I lose money, but I make it back\nI keep it true and ain't no motherfuckin' fakin' that\nI get a fade and then I fade to black\nBet on the Razorbacks, I hold the multi-colored flavored gat\nBlat!\n\nI said it must be the drugs\nI said it must be the drugs\nI said it must be the drugs\nI said it must be the drugs\nI said it must be the drugs\nI said it must be the drugs\nI said it must be the drugs\nI said it must be the drugs\n\nYou was Easy Mac with the cheesy raps\nWho the fuck is Mac Miller?\nThis name says \"Crack dealin' trap nigga slash cap peeler\nBack with a black stripper\nAss thicker than a snack wrap snicker, too fat to snap zippers\"\nIn half is what I'll do to Mac Miller\nNow my mind's first track figured\nA nigga who treats his yak richer than elixir, taps liquor\nThen pass 'til it goes around the room, like his casket finna\nOh, you Mac Miller?\nThe fact's filtered in the snapped picture\nMy man Jack ripped over Google like Jack the Ripper\nYou-hoo! I'm finna murder this brunette bitch\nGet pumped like a flat fixed to become a flat fixture\nA rap figure that look like you hacked Twitter\nI'll show you \"beastie,\" boy\nYou can't match a killer with that, wigger\nI'd rather attack Tigger or Jack Thriller\nHe got track fillers for a album\nIf he had Jigga on an ad-sticker\nWouldn't go cat litter where I'm from, Malcolm\nI knock the thoughts off your balcony, King\nYou're from a home of funny bones\nNot like quite the one I've known\nYou look like, before you punched in flows\nYou were struckin' blows, bloody nose for your honey roll\nIn the lunchroom gettin' yo money stole\nYou a bully's best day ever, with them Nike's on your feet\nComin' through Blue Slide Park\nI'm gon' rob this chump\nOn a party on Fifth Ave like he Donald Trump\nNigga, give me that shit!\nI liked you better when you was Easy Mac with the cheesy raps\nWho the fuck is Mac Miller?"}
{"text":"Yeah, mane, you know I'm smokin' at the beginnin' of the song, man, like a damn... rapper\nAh, man, man, it's crazy bein' so rich, man, damn\n\nIn '09, we were still on the bus, nigga\nBefore Nak was deluxe, when I didn't have a brush\nWhen there still wasn't hoes tryna fuck with me\n'Fore I cleaned up a bit like it's company comin'\nI ain't know we was on the cusp of the money\nTryna get a few bucks under custody\nAnd my twin brothers was all Syd brothers\nSo my kin gully and my skin toughened\nThick lens coverin' my eyes now\nThey ain't bright, nigga, I'm just high now\nAnd if this a different way to clear my mind out\nI need to find out, I'm doin' fine now\nAnd I don't look as stupid when I talk now\nAnd everybody at the show look astounded\nPosted up drowsy\nIn the cut so much that it's pus round me\nCatch him in the daytime or dusk hours\nSmokin' out the pound, houndin' mutts out it\nIf your tucks lousy then you can't sit with us (Nah)\nCan't call it harsh livin' when the margin between you and all these fuck niggas is about as large as it gets\nAnd you workin', givin' arm and a leg\nSay he workin' but he just talkin' 'cause he ain't workin'\nLike a long-distance bitch\nWho you know that's out that's harder than this?\nChargin' niggas like a Tomlinson win, nigga\nSlight frown on the brow on the brim, color brown\nRunnin' wild on the route that was picked\nWhen the clouds were enshrouded\nI'm out with my face in the shallow end, drownin' again\nYou might also like\nI could drown you with a shallow soul\nShallow soul, shallow soul\nYou are drinkin' from a shallow soul\nShallow soul, shallow soul\n\nDrugs got me feelin' like Vigo Carpathian\nJust look at the state he's in, yo, yo\nThe most critically acclaimed, slang contortionist\nThat ain't suckin' corporate dick\nSaid it with my balls in grip\nOther hand got a cork to hit\nAll this Ralph be the sportsmanship\nWalked in and said I needed all the chips\nAs well as the one on my shoulder\nFeel like my heart got pneumonia, blunt laced, covered in odor\nCops still lockin' niggas up for quotas\nBrain still numb from the shit in the soda, so\nA generation lost\nFacin' a Paul Allen in vacant loft\nWarrants bein' filed for the cases fought\nAnd them drugs get obtained by debatin' cost\nYou ain't Superman when that cape is off\nJust Clark, nigga, sittin' in his high-rise\nTryna see the bright side of life\nAnd a nigga just keep comin' back with a dark picture\nIt's like hard liquor, and see people are books\nSo you judge a ma'fucka by the first page\nAnd a bitch by the back cover\nThe crime is long-sleeved, so the tats covered\nReal ones, I'm the last brother, when they see me on stage\nThey said my shit was so insane, it was like Cobain did his last number\nMotherfucker\nI could drown you with a shallow soul\nShallow soul, shallow soul\nYou are drinkin' from a shallow soul (Yeah)\nShallow soul (Um), shallow soul (Yeah)\n\nYeah, well\nIsn't he dizzy off the ups and downs?\nHe got a lil' Whitney, put it in a blunt for now (Smoke)\nShit was s'posed to get me high\nWhy the fuck I wanna die now? (Damn,) and I'm\nStrung out on this dusty couch\nIn a big white ugly house, I tell the bitch, \"Slow down\n(Down) Stop runnin' your mouth\nYou holdin' my money, just shut up and count,\" my (Woo) (Count my)\nRight nostril hasn't worked in a week\nPlus the plug got work, like he servin' for a sheik\nMe, I'm swervin' in a Jeep\nBurnin' weed, doin' circles in the street (Skrrt,) yellin'\n\"Play my shit or wake the baby up!\" (Wake up)\nI get her faded, put it back in her labia\nAll my life I've been afraid of powder\nAll my life I've been afraid of power, where did all that go?\nThe wrong decision always call my phone (Okay)\nLast supper I was fuckin' with the Corleones (Uh-huh)\nI need somethin' stronger than a cortisone\nThat can save me from the war I know\nShout out to Soulo (Soul!), and rest in peace Alori Joh\nThe devil on the other side of this glory hole (Woah)\nAny time, any place, you can bet I'ma eat\n'Cause my hand on the fork and the fork in the road (Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah)\nWoah, look at all these new faces\nI see, I see, I see\nThey comin' on a plane but they're leavin' their suitcases\nBeen a criminal before scales were digital\nUsed to put the weed in the sole of my blue Asics (Woah) ()\nHate myself, fuck the strangers (Woo)\nBut the raps are just way too flagrant, so\nHere I go (Here I go)\nThrowin' up a prayer, it's a Hail Mary\n(Woah, where it's at) I've never been religious\nBut I feel like the scripture's got it all there\nIt's not just gypsies and fairies (Fairies,) this could be my last breath\n(Last breath) I'ma take my time\n(Wait a second, please)\n'Cause I'ma go out the same way I came in:\nRight by the pussy with nothin' on my mind\nYou are standing in a shallow soul\nYou are speaking with a shallow soul\nShallow soul\nI could drown you with a shallow soul\nWill you wash your sins with me?\nShallow soul, shallow soul\nYou are drinking from a shallow soul\nIt will set us free\nShallow soul, shallow soul\nYou are standing in a shallow soul"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsLoud Lyrics\nWhoop\nWhoop\nLadies and gentlemen\nThis is Macadelic\nYou motherfucker, hahahaha\n\nUh\nI got codeine in my cup, you can bet your ass I'm sippin'\nGroupies fall in love, I'm like, \"Bitch, you must be trippin'\"\nI'm just tryna fuck and she just need tuition\nWhy you tryna stunt, you need to play your own position\nNever gave a fuck, yeah, nothin' 'bout me changed\nStill roll up them blunts, got diamonds in my chain, haha\nYeah, you heard me I got diamonds in my chain\nAnd it don't make a difference if you cryin' in the rain\nTwo hundred shows, I'ma kill more, I just sold out that Fillmore\nGot a million, make a mill' more, then a number one spot on the Billboard\n\nYeah, people lie, numbers won't, keep me high, drugs is close\nRoll one up, pour a cup, watch the world go up in smoke\n\nI like my music real loud, real loud\nCan you turn that shit up for me right now, right now?\nHere it come, there it go, ask your homies, ask your hoes\nIf you didn't, now you know, never keep your pockets low\nI like my music real loud, real loud\nCan you turn that shit up for me right now, right now?\nHere she comes, there she goes, never chasin' after hoes\nIf you didn't, now you know, never keep your pockets low\nYou might also like\nArgh\nI'ma get that Grammy soon, fuck your magazine\nJordan gonna hand me shoes, still fuck your magazine\nHammer team in that pack with me, hear the Jerm beat banging, with a glass of lean\nWhen I went to every high school class would be tryna fuck the female faculty\nI'm a crazy little fucker, think my head done ran away\nI experiment with drugs but I won't ever fuck with yay'\nI just made a million dollars, still I think I'm underpaid\nFuck with me? Kid no way, when you meet me, bitch stand up straight\nPump out raps, yeah, I got raps, tryna talk shit, what you think about that?\nFor the pesos, getting bank roll, I'ma lay low, chill, 'til I let that stack\n\nYeah, people lie, numbers won't, keep me high, drugs is close\nRoll one up, pour a cup, watch the world go up in smoke\n\nI like my music real loud, real loud\nCan you turn that shit up for me right now, right now?\nHere it come, there it go, ask your homies, ask your hoes\nIf you didn't, now you know, never keep your pockets low\nI like my music real loud, real loud\nCan you turn that shit up for me right now, right now?\nHere she comes, there she goes, never chasin' after hoes\nIf you didn't, now you know, never keep your pockets low"}
{"text":"Hallelujah, thank God I have a future\nPrayin' I don't waste it gettin' faded\n'Cause I'm smokin' **** until I'm coughin' up tar\nFeel the surge, energy curve like a lumbar\nI don't act hard, I still read Babar\nTrippin' out, lookin' at a bunch of Google map stars\nShit, they got a app for that\n\nBut me, I'm still trapped inside my head\nIt kinda feel like it's a purgatory\nSo polite and white, but I got family who would murder for me\nThink I'm livin' paradise, so what I have to worry 'bout?\nDealin' with these demons, feel the pressure, find the perfect style (Perfect style)\nMakin' sure my mom and dad are still somewhat in love\nAll these backfires of my experiments with drugs\nAnd I experience a touch of my epiphany in color form\nDifference between love and war inform me, I'm above the norm (Above the norm)\nGive me anybody though, I'll gladly chew his face off, them bath salts\nRhymin' like it's summertime on asphalt, hot\nHaven't picked a major label, think I'm blackballed\nI still don't got the heart to pick my phone up when my dad calls\nWill he recognize his son when he hears my voice?\nI put this music 'gainst my life, I think I fear the choice\nAnd I don't know what I'm runnin' from, but I'm runnin' still\nI conversate with acquaintances, but it's nothin' real\nI'm from a city that you hear and think a bunch of steel\nSo a hundred mills wouldn't make me sign a fuckin' deal (Fuckin' deal)\nMoney kills, that's the truth, it's called the root of evil\nBut I want that Rolls-Royce that the homie Lennon drove\nSo, if you don't talk about some money, I'ma send you home\nUnconventional, special but unprofessional\nAdolescent expression that's lettin' me meet these centerfolds\nAs troubles fill my mind capacity, I let 'em go (Let 'em go)\nIf I was Johnny Depp in Blow, I would let it snow (Would let it slow)\nThat's just me all wildin' out and bein' extra though (Extra though)\nYeah\nYou might also like\nAnd if God was a human, it'd be yours truly\nWatchin' horror movies with some foreign groupies\nThinkin' this decor suits me (This decor suits me)\nI do drugs, get more loopy\nI'm in tune to ancient jiu-jitsu spirituals, it's blissful (It's blissful)\nLookin' out as far as eyes can see\nI'm glad that me and this elevation could finally meet (Could finally meet)\nI think I'm JFK's final speech\nThey try assassinatin' all of my beliefs\n(But I'm asleep) So whisper to me for the peace of mind\nAnd he be high, some weed to grind on top a Jesus shrine (Shrine)\nTwenty thousand on my watch 'cause I needed time\nIf y'all would leave me the fuck alone, that'd be divine (Be divine)\nYeah, can't decide if you like all the fame\nThree years ago to now, it's just not the same (Not the same)\nI'm lookin' out my window, ashin' on the pane (Ashin' on the pane)\nShit, wonder if I lost my way (Lost my way)\n\nYeah, don't you ever wanna hide away? (Hide away)\nPoseidon triumph in the eyes of rain\nWon't give a fuck about tomorrow if I die today (Die today)\nI'll greet the devil with a smilin' face (Smilin' face)\nShit, that God fellow may reside in space\nAs, times are wastin', I'm freebasin' with Freemasons\nMy girl's switchin' the locks, the keys keep changin' (Keep changin')\nDreamin' of places, my own personal creations\nIf there's a party in Heaven I plan to leave wasted (Leave wasted)\nRetracin' my steps way back to Biblical times\nWe-we all gon' end up meetin' at the finishin' line\nAnd these words that I command you today shall be in your heart\nAnd you shall teach them diligently to your children\nAnd you shall speak of them when you sit at home\nAnd when you walk along the way, and when you lie down\nAnd when you rise up, I am the lord, your god"}
{"text":"\nOoh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\nOoh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\nYeah (krow ot og attog uoy ,gninrom eht s'ti ,niV, oY)\nOoh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\nOoh\u2014ooh (Fuck you) Yeah\n\nI came for whoever is in charge (Here)\nSuggest you go and get yourself a weapon and a guard (Here)\nThey need some coffee, everybody sleepin' on me\nGoin' round door-to-door, settin' off alarms (Beep, beep, beep)\nAll that horse shit, you shoulda left it at the barn\nKeep a stallion, tell her gallop to the store and get cigars, yeah\nToo many whips, gotta get a new garage made (That's the ball game)\nI might steal one just to drive it in a car chase\nMe and my bizarre ways (Lord have mercy)\nI moved up from a Private to a Sergeant, you can see it from the scarface\nHidden in a dark place, swimmin' in a shark tank\nGive a bitch a little bit of change, she a game in a arcade\n(Time crisis) Not a second to lose\nI'm the motherfuckin' Bible, that's forever the truth (Amen)\nAnd this is not another case of the celebrity blues\nThe devil wit' me and he tell me to shoot, boom\nYou might also like\nMurder, murder, murder, murder (Oh yeah), what would you do?\nHave you ever had to hurt her? Just for somethin' to do\nCan you draw a perfect circle?\nLot of lies cover the truth, you got options, what do you do?\nI wash these pills down with liquor and fall (I do)\nLeave it to me, I do enough for us all (I do)\nGot what you need if you like breakin' the law\nMy mother raised me a God (Hey)\n(Fuck you)\n\nYeah\nBlame the drugs, got me sinnin' on a weekday\nDrunk as fuck, do a buck sixty on the freeway (Skrrt)\nGivin' y'all the freebase, hidden in the middle of a briefcase\nThat's hidden in a subwoofer, beat case\nUsed to wanna know how a freak taste\nNow I'm in it in an instant like replay\nBroad's a baton, pass her off like relay\nWhy I'm so mad on my B-Day?, she say\n\"I thought you got sober,\" then I said\n\"I wish you'd stop bein' a bitch and get to mindin' your business\"\nTold me, \"Money has changed ya\"\nI get to thinkin', how rarely do I visit? How'd I get so egotistical?\nI'm a Buffalo Soldier\nHeaven is a mile away, the trouble, much closer\nI'm only twenty-three but my mind is older, and it'll forever be\nDead presidents to the homies, death to my enemies\nMurder, murder, murder, murder (Oh yeah), what would you do?\nHave you ever had to hurt her? Just for somethin' to do\nCan you draw a perfect circle?\nLot of lies cover the truth, you got options, what do you do?\nI wash these pills down with liquor and fall\nLeave it to me, I do enough for us all\nGot what you need if you like breakin' the law\nMy mother raised me a God (Hey)\n(Fuck you)\n\nA goddess told me \"Good mornin'\" when I woke up\n(Fuck you)\nYou know I had a good mornin' when I woke up\n(Fuck you)\nGotta thank God every mornin' then I woke up\n(Fuck you)\nWould you remember me if I never woke up?\nBye-bye (Fuck you)\nI've been a sinner, I'm just tryna stay\nWarm through the winter, and I'll be on my way\nI'm just a drifter, in endless seas of whispers\nI just need some shelter, give me shelter from the wind\n\nOoh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh (Hahaha)\nOoh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\nWoo\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\u2014ooh\nOoh\u2014ooh\u2014woo\u2014woo\nYour call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system\n412-9... *buttons dialed* is not available\n\nYeah, man, I wish you were here, happy holidays\nUm, I love ya\nAnd I hope you have a good night\/weekend\/I hope I talk to you soon\nAlright, godspeed\n\nAh, yeah\nI thought I'd have it figured out by now\nShit would be simple, problems would be in the past by now\nMe and the homies would be sittin' on millions\nReminiscin' on times when we were so broke and livin' in Oakland just chillin'\nI thought I'd have it in the bag by now\nI thought that we'd be kickin' back by now\nI know that life is a bitch\nI know that life is a bitch, I thought we'd put her in a cab by now\nBut I'm stressin', I can't relax\nSwallowin' my pride and I'm hidin' what's makin' me mad\nEverybody sayin' I need rehab\n'Cause I'm speedin' with a blindfold on\nIt won't be long until they watchin' me crash\nAnd they don't wanna see that\nThey don't want me to OD and have to talk to my mother\nTell her they coulda done more to help me\nAnd she'd just be cryin'\nSayin' that she'd do anything to have me back\nAll the nights I'm losin' sleep\nIt was all a dream, there was a time that I believed that\nBut white lines be numbin' them dark times\nThe pills that I'm poppin', I need to man up\nAdmit it's a problem, I need to wake up\nBefore one mornin' I don't wake up\nYou make your mistakes, your mistakes never make ya\nI'm too obsessed with goin' down as a great one\nBut if you wait too long they gon' find someone to replace ya\nSo I guess this is a letter\nTo all my brothers, Most Dope, that's forever\nI love you more than words could express\nAnd this the part that Q start cryin' if he ain't already yet\nI did my best to be a leader you respect\nAt times I became weaker, got defeated by regret\nSo tell my baby I love her\nAnd if she give me the chance I'll put a seed inside her, make her a mother\nJust know that there's a place\nWhere all my people worry free and e'rybody straight\nEvery devil don't got horns, every hero ain't got capes\nOpen up my eyes, shit, I'm finally awake, good mornin'\nYeah, good mornin'\n\nYo, Vin, it's the morning, you gotta go to work\nAlright\nYo, you gotta\u2014you gotta be at work in like ten minutes, yo\nI'm good, man\nYou good?\nI'm straight, yo, what's good?\nWhen you going?\nYou gotta go pick up the dry cleaning and shit still?\nMan, fuck that shit, I'll skip\nYou 'bout to go to work?\nMmm\nAight, what time you gotta be at work?\nI don't know... soon\nYou Democrat or Republican?\nUh... I don't know anymore\nWould you vote for a female president?\nMmm, I don't care what gender or race you are"}
{"text":"La, la, la, la, la (Oh play that shit boy)\nLa, la, la, la (Yeah)\nLa, la, la, la, la\nLa, la, la, la (Don't be afraid, baby)\nLa, la, la, la, la\nLa, la, la, la\nLa, la, la, la, la\nOpen your legs\n\nSay yeah\nShare\nSay yeah\nShare\nSay yeah\n\nHearts on my timeline\nBullet to your rose, then I watch your petal fold\nDon't you know your body been mine?\nI know you know I know\nSexy, nasty\nHave no guideline\nOne day, four times\nYou don't mind that\nI don't care (Pleasure)\nYour divinity has turned me into a sinner\nGod is fair (Pleasure)\nAnd your beauty can even make hell have a winter\nYou might also like\nYeah\nAnd a freak mind is divine, so we fuck from behind\nOn these sides, between thighs I eat up\nWhy do I do anything but trust myself?\nTried to give her up but she fuck so well\nMan, that bitch so cold, man, that bitch so cold\nI'ma take my time, I'ma hit that slow\n'Cause I ain't in a rush young girl\nYou the only thing for me in this fucked up world\nAnd do you believe in love?\nHold on tight when demons come\nIt'll be alright, no need to run\nStay with me tonight, we'll see the sun\nAnd when we wake up early we'll still be young\nNever felt this free before, I need you more\nThan keys need doors, I need you sleepin' next to me\nThe blanket sheets, I'll take them all and keep you warm (Yeah)\nAnd I teach her that we were the creatures of love\nYou be the leader, I could be Julius Caesar\nWhen I'm pullin' up in the Bimmer\nThe beats in the trunk, all the freaks wanna fuck\n\nHearts on my timeline\nBullet to your rose, then I watch your petal fold\nDon't you know your body been mine?\nI know you know I know\nSexy, nasty (Sexy, nasty)\nHave no guideline (Have no guideline)\nOne day, four times\nYou don't mind that\nI don't care (Pleasure)\nGod is fair (Pleasure)\nI need to feel your touch\nYou shy, you don't reveal too much\nNo lies, don't hide yourself at all\nWith you, I just can't help but fall\nIt's true, and I'll try everything\nGirl you my sexy nasty, thing\nShe been getting faded all the time, flap your wings\nI been getting stoned all week\nIt make me go too deep\nGirl, you so lonely\nWill you come home with me?\nJust take your clothes off, babe\nKnow that we been talkin' on the phone all day\nI love it when you tell me that you don't behave\nTell me when and where, I bet I won't be late\nAll I really wanna do is procreate\nI'm a Superman, you'll be my Lois Lane\nKnow you late for work, you stayin' home today\nWe gon' keep on goin' 'til our bones both break\nIt's the grown folk way, yeah\n\nHearts on my timeline\nBullet to your rose, then I watch your petal fold\nDon't you know your body been mine?\nI know you know I know\nSexy, nasty (Sexy, nasty)\nHave no guideline (Have no guideline)\nOne day, four times\nYou don't mind that\nI don't care\nGod is fair\n\nHello, I would like to tell you about my love affair with my husband and the wonderful ways that we were able to understand each other, and find out about each other. We got to know each other little by little, living very close in the same building, and he would help me with things, and I would see him and think \"what a cute guy,\" and he was a cute guy. And it was just little by little, we got to know just to say hello. One day I invited him to a party and I had heard so much about him, people respected him, and he was good to everybody, he knew, people he worked with all adored him. And it was something so important, the respect that you have for somebody, for me was the most important. Being attracted to him and being... finding people respected him and I respected him. I love the fact that he sensed how my feelings were, and I learned to understand and respect and see his feelings and understand his feelings ahead of time...\nSo, it was so very easy to be together and look forward to being together and our love affair just blossomed the more we saw each other and the more we were together, we learned more and more about each other. After a short period of time we became engaged and had a very small intimate wedding with just family and very close friends, the friends we continued to have for the rest of our life and then came two adorable little boys. And...my husband just adored my daughter and adored the two boys, and I feel I just gave him a wonderful life. A good marriage and a wonderful family and I know he really had a beautiful life and I did too. And how important it is to love, respect and care for each other."}
{"text":"Yeah, well\n\nI got a bone to pick like roses (Roses)\nI ain't feelin' broken no more\nBalled a fist, they gossipin', I notice\nTalkin' shit, I wander through the motives\nWonder who the fuck we're supposed to be\nI ain't worried now 'til I leave\nI'm just tryna ride and feel the breeze\nWith somethin' bad beside n' next to me\nWind in my face, don't stop now when it feels so great\nYou can run 'til you slip on the sidewalk\nAnd the same bone that you picked gon' break, that's a motif\n(That's a motif) Yeah\nWhen it's comin' right back, so familiar, never been realer\nNever felt so damn good where I'm at\nI don't know what it's all about\nRunnin' through too many thoughts to count (That's way better)\nStill ain't addin' up, I'll let you know when I've had enough, yeah\nYeah, well\n\nI'd put some money on forever, but I (Hey)\nDon't like to gamble on the weather, so I\nJust watch while\nThe sun is shinin', I can look at the horizon\nThe walls keep gettin' wider, I just hope I never find 'em, I know\nHey, well\nYou might also like\nThese are my wings\nThese are my wings, yeah\nThese are my wings\n\nYeah, well\nMovin' so fast, the clock look slow (Slow)\nWater my seeds 'til the flower just grow, yeah\nLove so much that my heart get broke\nI don't really know how the normal shit go, so\nI guess I just play it by ear, silence is all that I hear\nListenin' close as I can\nGrowin' up (One, two, three), jump\nNobody holdin' my hand, no\nTrust is a problem, never knew how, yeah\nThat's why I just keep to myself\nGet what I need, then I'll be out (Please tell me)\nWho can surf the universe with me?\nLucifer is human, so are we\nAll I ever want is what I need\nAnd that don't include your time and company\nFollow me, we on the up and up\nRemember when I owed a hundred bucks?\nNow, I look around like, \"What the fuck?\"\nIf you don't fuck with me, you fuckin' up\nI know I need to watch my temper, so I\nDon't ever gamble on the weather, but I\nJust watch while the\nThe sun is shinin', I can look at the horizon\nThe walls keep gettin' wider, I just hope I never find 'em, no, no\nYeah, well\n\nThese are my wings\nThese are my wings\nThese are my wings"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsREMember Lyrics\nYup, yup\nYup\nUh\n\nI hope you're proud of me, dude I grew to be\nIngenuity influenced by your eulogy\nGoing through memories like they were movie scenes\nI know I been the shit, all these people full of me\nI admit, I guess I'm full of myself, too\nThere's just a bunch of shit, I wish I could tell you, but\nThis life move fast, I never knew that\nYours wouldn't have lasted, the dirt hittin' your casket, like raindrops\nI swear I'll let you know when the pain stop\nFor now, I need to run to any place that a train stops\nAnd everybody wanna talk to me about some business shit\nNever really listenin', couldn't get real interested\nMy days gettin' darker, so the haze get sparked up\nAll this hate sound the same when my name get brought up\nYou had a girl, I kinda wish you knocked her up\nSo I could meet your son and talk you up\n\nI remember\nWhen we were just kids\nWe knew nothin' at all\nAnd we would talk about the life we lived in\nWest Virginia\nLost somewhere out in\nWest Virginia\nYou might also like\nIt's a dark science when your friends start dyin'\nLike, \"How could he go? He was part-lion\"\nLife goes on, the tears all dried and\nCouple years are gone by by then, uh\nCan you please help me find my friend?\nI give you anything you need multiplied by ten\nI heard he moved to a place where the time don't end\nSo you don't need money, all you got is time to spend\nYeah, life's short, don't ever question the length\nIt's cool to cry, don't ever question your strength\nI recommend no limits, intricate thought\nGo 'head, just give it a shot, you'll remember shit you forgot\n\n'Cause way back then I didn't know shit\nAnd I don't know shit now\nWhen the world's lookin' hopeless\nI'ma still hold shit down\n\nI remember\nWhen we were just kids\nWe knew nothing at all\nAnd we would talk about the life we lived in\nWest Virginia\nLost somewhere out in\nWest Virginia\n"}
{"text":"\nWh\u2014oa (Hey)\nWow-wow-wow-wow-wow-wow-wow (Hello)\nWow-wow (This is a revolution)\nWow-wow, wh\u2014oa\nWoah-oh (Yo)\nWow-wow-wow-wow-wow-wow-wow\nWow-wow, wow-wow (As we proceed)\nWow-wow\n\nYeah, I\nMade a promise to my mama that I'll bless her\nWith some grandkids, she can spoil 'em\nUntil then, I'm gettin' dollars, I'm just doin' what I gotta\nCan a man live? And it's all day, homie\nI'm a God, give the whole squad a job, get 'em all paid\nCame a long way from all-state, yeah, now we All-American\n(Salute me, shoot me) Shit, we All-American, yeah (Salute me, shoot me down)\n\nI swear to God I put the hero in heroin (Dope), these flows kilos\nI could sell snow to a ski slope\nI could sell evil to the devil, nonbelievers to a temple\nShit, I could sell water to a speedboat\nAnd these eyes is iconic\nI went pro, made profit, now I keep some dead faces in my pocket\nGettin' faded, I been stoned all week (All week)\nBut what's a God without a little OD? Just a G\nTwistin' my weed, easin' my mind\nWhy you worry about me? Stop trippin', I'm fine\nSwear these bitches done lost it lately\nYou put the ho in honest, baby, so complicated\nAnd I may be a little arrogant, I'm aware of it\nI know (Goddamn,) I know\nI got a problem, I'ma take care of it, weight I'm carryin', gotta let it go\nIt won't hold me down no more\nYou might also like\nMade a promise to my mama that I'll bless her\nWith some grandkids, she can spoil 'em\nUntil then, I'm gettin' dollars, I'm just doin' what I gotta\nCan a man live? And it's all day, homie\nI'm a God, give the whole squad a job, get 'em all paid\nCame a long way from all-state, yeah, now we All-American\n(Salute me, shoot me) Shit, we All-American\n(Salute me, shoot me down)\n\nWe ain't\nGoin' nowhere, we ain't\nGoin' nowhere, we can't be stopped now\n'Cause this rap shit for life\nWe ain't\nGoin' nowhere, we ain't\nGoin' nowhere, we can't be stopped now\n'Cause this rap shit for life\n\nBack then I had a dream\nI'd get this money, man\nI know my life would change\nJust need a hundred grand\nBack then I had a dream\nI'd get this money, man\nI know, my life would change\nJust need a hundred grand\nYeah\nBack when I first made a hundred grand\nYeah, back when I first made a...\nYeah\nBack when I first made a hundred grand\nYeah\n\n\nYeah, back when I first made a hundred grand\nThought I was the shit (Oh, you the shit?)\nWhen I first made a hundred grand\nThought I was a king (Oh, you a king?)\nWhen I first made a hundred grand\nCouldn't tell me nuttin' (I ain't sayin' nuttin')\nWhen I first made a hundred grand\nMade a hundred grand (Let me get some money)\n\nYeah, okay\nBack then they used to call me little\nBut now I'm ridin' somethin' clean in a coat made of armadillo\nThey haven't got the memo, I'm sayin' I'm the shit, though\nTryna make it complicated when this shit is simple (Simple)\nTell me what you wanna be, what your dreams is (What your dreams is)\nA hundred G's in my jeans, I'm a genius (I'm a genius)\nSin every day, someone save me please\nAnd get schooled, homie, change degrees (Uh-huh)\nI'm the plug, what you need though? (What you need though?) I'm goin' beast mode\nI keep a freak, even when she underwater she can deep throat (Wait, what?)\nI made a mill' before I paid a bill (Okay)\n'Cause fools worried about a wave, I'm a Navy SEAL (Okay)\nCome with me, I can make your life change for real (Woo)\nAlways had a dream of stuntin', it ain't nothin' unless you runnin' shit (Woo)\nJust a young ma'fucker with a plan (With a plan)\nThought I was the man\nBack when I first made a hundred grand\nThought I was the shit (Oh, you the shit?)\nWhen I first made a hundred grand\nThought I was a king (Oh, you a king?)\nWhen I first made a hundred grand\nCouldn't tell me nuttin' (I ain't sayin' nuttin')\nWhen I first made a hundred grand\nMade a hundred grand (Let me get some money)\n(Time flies) Let me get some money\nLet me, let me get some money\n(Yeah, you know time flies) Malcolm, can we go to mall?\nI just need some shoes and my nails (Try to catch it)\nAnd then can we stop at Chipotle?\n(Yeah, time flies) Let me get some money\nLet me, let me get some money\n(Yeah, you ever see the way time flies?) Let me get some money\n(Try to catch it) Let me get some money"}
{"text":"Yeah\nHmm-hmm\nHmm-hmm\nYeah\n\nShe do whatever she like\nAnd that just don't seem right\nYeah, make people so mad\nYeah, they want her so bad, hmm\nWell, we was fuckin', almost missed my flight\nI wasn't even trippin', I said, \"It's alright,\" yeah\nGoddamn, we was hit last night\nWouldn't you rather get along?\nWouldn't you rather get along?\nYou was coughin' when you hit my weed\nBut I've never seen you feel that free\nSo cute you wanna be like me\nWouldn't you rather get along?\nWouldn't you rather get along?\n\nUntil, until there is no longer\nLet's get lost inside the cloud\nAnd you, you don't gotta work harder\nI can calm you down\nYou might also like\nYeah\nWell, I was busy when you hit my phone\nBut you miss me, told me come back home\nYeah, and you don't really like to sleep alone\nBut I'm takin' too long, I'm always takin' too long, yeah\nBaby, we don't need a trip, we could be right here\nWhen the shit get weird, we could switch up gears\nI wanna see them lips, kissin' ear to ear\nI wanna hear your song\nOh, I wanna feel just how you feel\nTouch you one more time so I know you're real\nWe could spin that wheel, wouldn't you rather get along?\n\nUntil, until there is no longer\nLet's get lost inside the cloud\nAnd you, you don't gotta work harder\nI can calm you down\n\nI think we just might be alright, thank God\nI think we're gonna be alright, alright, okay\nHold me close, don't hold your breath\nThis feelin' your favorite, I know"}
{"text":"Stopper, to every DJ, dem haffi talk to me proper\nMi come a dancehall, mi a go kill you with di lingua\nGalang Cutty Ranks 'cause you full up of a stamina\nAnyweh me go, Lord, a roots and culture\nOne man me praise, a di Almighty, Jah Jah\nJah Jah give me strength and him give me di power\nThat's why Cutty Ranking, full up of stamina\nCome a dancehall, mi a go kill you with di...\n\nYeah, used to wanna be a superhero\nFlyin' round with a cape catchin' bad guys\nNow my head underwater\nBut I ain't in the shower and I ain't gettin' baptized (No)\nTo the good and the bad times (Bad times)\nAll the cuts, broken bones, and the black eyes (Black eyes)\nYoung motherfucker with a mad mind\nMade a couple million off of rap lines\nY'all can\u2019t tell me nuttin' no more\nCame from the basement under that floor (Floor)\nYou don't come close, you don't even know I'm the G.O.A.T. (Hmm)\nYou don\u2019t need to know how I go\n'Cause I know what you want\nAll I wanna do is the most\nBackflip off the rope, sky hook when I'm in the post\nYeah, my girl too clutch to choke (Hmm)\nAnd I ain't callin' it quits\nYou can build a wall with your bricks\nWhile I keep talkin' that shit, it's like this (It's like this) (Hmm)\nLiquor still in my cup (My cup)\nGet faded when I wake up (Wake up)\n'Cause everything is too much (Too much)\nSo what? (So what?)\nYou might also like\nWoke up this mornin' with a bright idea (Smoke)\nMaybe I can exist forever right here (Let it run)\nYeah (Mmm-hmm, yeah)\nHmm-hmm-hmm\nHmm, hmm\n\nOkay, okay\nWell, I'ma be here for a while, longer than I did expect to\nI was out of town, gettin' lost 'til I was rescued\nNow I'm in the clouds, come down when I run out of jet fuel\nBut I never run out of jet fuel\nWell, I'ma be here for a while, longer than I did expect to\nI was out of town, gettin' lost 'til I was rescued\nNow I'm in the clouds, come down when I run out of jet fuel\nBut I never run out of jet fuel\n\nHundred-twenty on a car that I don't whip (Woo)\nI don't even pull it up the driveway\nThrowin' up shots like I don't miss (No)\nNever put a limit on the high stakes (No)\nTry to pull my card, tell them, \"Go Fish\" (Woo)\nYou ain't gonna find a lie in my face\nI pick it up and let it go quick\nThey wanna get pussy from my\u2014(Uh-oh)\nYeah, I don't say nuttin' that I don't know\nJumpin' out the womb wearin' Polo\nEverybody wanna jump in, but I'm old school\nLone wolf, take 'em on solo, yeah\nI don't need nobody (I don't need nobody!)\nI don't need to be nobody (I don't need to be nobody!)\nI'm just doin' my thing\nKick it at the crib, I don't see nobody, no\nSo over there with that bullshit\nWe don't need it on this side\nI'm pullin' up in that new shit\nYou always whippin' that dick ride\nI demand your respect\nI won't share my connect (No)\nLet's get this clear, I am here\nI don't care who got next, young vet (Goddamn)\nFeelin' like they forget, I let it slide, this time\nLike twenty-five years I've been high and no less (Yes)\nShit, I know, I don't guess\nRather glow, I won't stress\nBetter say that shit with your chest\nOkay, okay\nWell, I'ma be here for a while, longer than I did expect to\nI was out of town, gettin' lost 'til I was rescued\nNow I'm in the clouds, come down when I run out of jet fuel\nBut I never run out of jet fuel\nBut I never run out of jet fuel (Jet fuel)\nWell, I'ma be here for a while, longer than I did expect to\nI was out of town, gettin' lost 'til I was rescued\nNow I'm in the clouds, come down when I run out of jet fuel\nBut I never run out of jet fuel\nBut I never run out of jet fuel (Jet fuel)\n\n\nFate in your hands\nWhile you're waitin' for me\nI'm already there\nFallin' in deep\nNow is only now\nHead back to the ground, dear"}
{"text":"It's a blue world without you\nIt's a blue world alone\n\nYeah, well, this a mad world,\u2005it\u2005made me crazy\nMight\u2005just turn around, do one-eighty\nI ain't\u2005politickin', I ain't kissin' no babies\nThe devil on my doorstep bein' so shady\nMmm, don't trip, we don't gotta let him in\nDon't trip\nYeah, yeah, yeah, I let it go\nBut I never go with it, mhm, yeah\n\nOkay, cool as fall weather, fuck your bullshit\nI'm here to make it all better with a little music for you\nI don't do enough for you\nWithout you, it's the color blue, ooh, don't trip\nI was in the city, they was talkin' that shit\nHad the homies with me, all a sudden, they split\nWe ain't even worried, we just laughin', that's rich\nYou know how it goes, it ain't broke, don't fix\n\nHey, one of these days\nWe'll all get by\nDon't be afraid\nDon't fall\nYou might also like\nThink I lost my mind\nReality's so hard to find\nWhen the devil tryna call your line, but shit, I always shine\nEven when the light dim\nNo, I ain't God, but I'm feelin' just like Him, ooh, don't trip\nSee, I was in the whip, ridin', me and my bitch\nWe was listenin' to us, no one else, that's it\nThat's a flex, just a bit, let me talk my shit\nSay my head got big, yeah\n\nYeah\nWell, this a mad world, it made me crazy\nMight just turn around, do one-eighty\nI ain't politickin', I ain't kissin' no babies\nThe devil on my doorstep bein' so shady\nMmm, don't trip, we don't gotta let him in\nDon't trip\nYeah, yeah, yeah, I let it go\nBut I never go with it, mhm\n\nDon't trip\nDon't trip\nDon't trip\nWell, if you could see me now\nLove me and hold me down\nMy mind, it goes, it goes\nIt goes, it goes, it goes\nYeah\nWell, this a mad world, it made me crazy\nMight just turn around, do one-eighty\nI ain't politickin', I ain't kissin' no babies\nThe devil on my doorstep bein' so shady\nMmm, don't trip, we don't gotta let him in\nDon't trip\nYeah, yeah, yeah, I let it go\nBut I never go with it, uh\n\nHey, one of these days\nWe'll all get by\nDon't be afraid\nDon't fall in line"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsStay Lyrics\nWoah-woah-woah-woah-woah\nWoah-woah, woah-woah\nWoah-woah-woah-woah-woah\nWoah-woah, woah-woah\nWoah-woah-woah-woah-woah-woah-woah-woah-woah\nWoah-woah, woah-woah, yeah\n\nWill you stay\nJust a little while, babe?\nJust a little while (Stay), just a little while, just a little while\nWill you stay\nJust a little while, babe?\nSaid, just a little while, just a little while, just a, just a little while\n\nYeah, hold up, wait a motherfuckin' second (Wait a second)\nI know you stressin', you don't gotta keep me guessin' (Keep me guessin')\nI'm full of questions, in return I get the silent treatment (Shh)\nI don't know why I'm speakin'\nYou say, you say, you say it's way too late, goodbye, you leavin'\nWhy you got me stressin'? (Oh my God)\nI could have a whole collection, just be faded in my own dimension\nYou so complicated, I swear that pussy Grammy nominated\nLet's make some music, fuck all of the bullshit\nYou might also like\nWill you stay\nJust a little while, babe?\n(Will you stay)\nJust a little while, just a little while, just a little while\n(Just a little while, babe?)\nWill you stay\nJust a little while, babe?\n(Will you stay)\nSaid, just a little while, just a little while, just a, just a little while\n(Just a little while, babe?)\n\nOkay now, baby, don't you leave my side, don't even try\nI'ma go crazy, girl, you save me, meditate me, give me peace of mind\nIt's only she and I, ocean floor, how deep we dive\nWe be high, lookin' for another fuckin' tree to climb\nShe was playin' hard to get, I read between the lines\nBinge watched Sopranos, made it all the way to season five\nI am her, she is I\nShe had to come to see her freaky side, leavin' me behind\n\nWill you stay\nJust a little while, babe?\n(Will you stay)\nJust a little while, just a little while, just a little while\n(Just a little while, babe)\nWill you stay\nJust a little while, babe?\n(Will you stay)\nSaid, just a little while, just a little while, just a, just a little while\n(Just a little while, babe?)\nJust a little while, just a little while, babe?\n\nThe way you walk in to the room, ooh-ooh (Woo)\nAll I think about is what I wanna do to you\nI don't wanna be polite no more (Hell no)\nMake yourself at home, where the fuck you gon' go? (Go, go, go)\nYeah, girl, the way you walk in to the room, ooh-ooh\nAll I think about is what I wanna do to you\nI don't wanna be polite no more (Hell no)\nMake yourself at home, where the fuck you gon' go, girl?\n\nWill you stay\nJust a little while, babe? (Just a little while longer)\nJust a little while, just a little while (Just a little bit longer, baby)\nJust a little while\nWill you (The way you walk in to the room, ooh-ooh)\nStay (All I think about is what I wanna do to you)\nJust a little while, babe? (I don't wanna be polite no more)\nSaid, just a little while (Make yourself at home)\nJust a little while (Where the fuck you gon' go)\nJust a, just a little while (Girl?)\nWill you (The way you walk in to the room, ooh-ooh)\nStay (All I think about is what I wanna do to you)\nJust a little while, babe? (I don't wanna be polite no more)\nSaid, just a little while (Make yourself at home)\nJust a little while (Where the fuck you gon' go)\nJust a, just a little while (Girl?)\nWill (Will) you (Will you) stay (Stay)\nJust a little while, babe? (Just a little while longer)\nJust a little while (Woah-woah, woah-woah-woah, woah)\nJust a little while, just a, just a little while\nWill you...\nWill you...\nWill you...\nYeah, daddy\nOh yeah, right there\nOh my God!"}
{"text":"One, two, three, pop, pop\nOne, two, three, pop, pop\nOne, two, three, pop, pop\nMr. Davis\nOne, two, three, pop, pop (Okay)\nYeah (Woo)\nOkay, okay (Yeah)\nOkay, okay-kay-kay-kay-kay-kay-kay-kay-kay (Woo)\nOkay, okay, yeah, um\n\nSnowflakes keep fallin' on my expired debit cards\nDon't know why I'm still awake, I gotta be up at ten tomorrow\nMissiles in my repertoire, I'd say I'm pretty regular\nI never leave my house, I don't know why I got an extra car (Skrt)\nMy pool-house studio is covered up with pencil marks\nAnd every day, it's full of jokers like a deck of cards (Hahaha)\nSwear I'm so lonely, there's horns on my dome piece (Dome piece)\nBut I'm not the devil, I'm a motherfuckin' minotaur\nOh my God, look at how upset you are\n'Cause we out here winnin', brought my dogs from out the reservoir (Hoo!)\nAnd I'ma let 'em bark, before you ready, my set will start\nWe forgot our roots before and trust me, things, they fell apart\nWash myself with acid, it's because I got a denim heart\nMy conscience so weak, I need to split it up in seven parts (Okay)\nRevis brought me out to Cali for the first time\nWent to Amar'e's party, took tequila shots with Kevin Hart (Ah)\nBut Kevin don't remember that\nI saw him at the VMAs, told a joke, he never laughed (Um)\nThe rap diablo, \"free your mind\" my motto\nAnd we all gon' be good if TreeJay ever hit the lotto (We mu'fuckin' rich!)\nSo arigato, shit, you know I'm world-famous\nAnd R. Kelly been told me that I'm the world's greatest (You're the world\u2019s greatest!)\nBut still to fall in love is like a orgasm\n'Cause you never gonna know if your girl fake it\nI'm always faded, gettin' shaded in the basement\nI just bought a cello, now all I do is play it (Play it)\nThank God that I made it (Made it), ask Q where Dave is (Where is he?)\nHe'll probably tell you that he rollin' midnights out in Vegas (Seven midnights!)\nMe? I'm in my spaceship, my face is so complacent\nWear a suit to cash a check, we goin' to the banquet (Ching)\nAnd Jimmy got the burner (Bow) but he don't wanna murder (Nah)\nAnd ClockWork is somewhere out in Sweden speaking Danish like\nHi Sven (Goddamn) isn't this your language?\nThat man must be a alien, I really can't explain it\nShit, it's just a little cocaine sniff *Snorts*\nBut the lines longer than parades is (Ah), yeah\nI think it's time to give me all your praises (Praises)\nSo I can get this money and give all the homies raises (Raises)\nMy life is on these words, this is my affidavit (Wow)\nAnd if you want a legal battle, send your ass to David (That's my lawyer)\nUm, I'm half-man, half-amazin'\nProbably half-God, but that don't fit my calculations (Don't make no sense)\nI know the planet Earth is 'bout to explode\nKinda hope that no one save it, we only grow from anguish\nYou might also like\nYeah (Miller Mac) Miller Mac\nHaha, yeah, these are my friends (Miller Mac)\nMiller Mac, Mac Miller, Mac, Mac (Miller Mac)\nMac, Mac, Mac, Miller Mac (Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller)\nMac, Mac, Mac (Miller Mac)\nMac Miller, Mac Miller, Miller Mac, Mac (Miller Mac)\nYeah, haha (Miller Mac) Miller Mac\nI see you Mac, these are my friends (Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller)\n\nThere's snowflakes fallin' on my debit card\nSwear I'm not alive, I couldn't tell you if we ever are\nIn this game of thrones, it is known I got them 4G LTE connection bars\nNo control, fuck Ken' Lamar (Fuck you, Kendrick!)\nI don't vote, I never registered (Nah)\nBut I'm a magnet for them zeros, call me Edward Sharpe (Woo!)\nI wake up feelin' dead, I need a fresher start\nSo me and Q put people on the label we don't remember (Ah, okay)\nSmiled as I saw Jerm nerdin' out with Josh Berg\nTalkin' analog gear and drinkin' Arnold Palmer (Those are good)\nIn the other room, watchin' C-Span with E. Dan\nLayin' down a baseline, doin' drums with his free hand (How the hell does he do that?!)\nWhen I was in first grade, I wished to be Puerto Rican\nMy mom took me to a barbershop to get some cornrows\nI walked in, ready for them Sprewell braids\nBut the lady said my hair was too short though (Aw), damn\nI always thought my moms was the illest for that shit (Yah)\nDrivin' through the hood, she did not have a reaction (Skrt)\nWith a six-year-old, she kept the doors unlocked\nAnd drove by the 5-0 like \"Fuck those cops!\"\nGoddamn, it just don't stop (Nah)\nI know my father probably wish that I would just smoke pot\nMy grandma probably slap me for the drugs I got (Boy!)\nI'm a crackhead but I bought her diamonds, we love rocks\nA'ight\nYeah (Miller Mac) Miller Mac\nHaha, yeah, these are my friends (Miller Mac)\nMiller Mac, Mac Miller, Mac, Mac (Miller Mac)\nMac, Mac, Mac, Miller Mac (Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller)\nMac, Mac, Mac (Miller Mac)\nMac Miller, Mac Miller, Miller Mac, Mac (Miller Mac)\nYeah, haha (Miller Mac) Miller Mac\nI see you Mac, these are my friends (Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller)\n\nYeah, I've had the same outfit for six days straight (Gross)\nAnd still all these bitches will get in position\n'Cause I got their pussies all drippin' in paint (Woo)\nSomehow, I'm makin' this music, it's just to relate to\n(Damn, you're drownin'!) And I got the life raft, ain't gonna save you\nLook at my reflection (Woah), I broke the mirror\nIt's only for protection (Okay), shit keep gettin' weirder (Weirder)\nAnd I can't see a thing but (Woah) things never been clearer (Yeah)\nCall the Mothman, it's Richard Gere (It's Richard motherfuckin' Gere!)\nYeah, this is our year\nLet's get fucked up and get the fuck up outta here (Be gone)\nI've kicked it with the aliens, a different stratosphere (E.T., phone home)\nThey lookin' down like, \"We come in peace\" (Oh, me too)\nYeah, I told Will and Bill they need to kick the habit (Put it down)\nWe on the same trip, we just got different baggage (That trip was brown)\nParks spilled the grape juice on all of Dylan's dad's shit (Grape juice!)\nWe were just some motherfuckin' kids (Woo)\nYeah (Miller Mac) Miller Mac\nHaha, yeah, these are my friends (Miller Mac)\nMiller Mac, Mac Miller, Mac, Mac (Miller Mac)\nMac, Mac, Mac, Miller Mac (Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller)\nMac, Mac, Mac (Miller Mac)\nMac Miller, Mac Miller, Miller Mac, Mac (Miller Mac)\nYeah, haha (Miller Mac) Miller Mac\nI see you Mac, these are my friends (Miller, Miller, Miller, Miller)"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eSvenskaEspa\u00f1ol\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439ItalianoSurf Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\nHey, hey, hey\nHey, hey, hey\nHey, hey, hey\nHey, hey\nSaid\n\nWhere are you goin'? Can I come\u2005too?\nThe\u2005whole world is\u2005open, a playground for me and\u2005you\nAnd we could be fine, shit, who the hell knows?\nIt's your eyes and your ears and your mouth and your nose\nHead and your shoulders, your knees and your toes\nI dream of this moment\nWill it come true?\nThe whole world, they know it\nThey just waitin' for me and you\nAnd she, just like I\nGot her head in the clouds\nDon't need to be lower\nBefore it's all over, I promise we'll figure it out\nI ain't comin' down\nWhy would I need to?\nSo much of this world is above us, baby\nThey might tell you that I went crazy\nI'm just tryna read you\nOoh, ooh, oohh\nOoh-ooh-oohh\nYou might also like\nI know we try\nAnd the days, they go by\nUntil we get old\nThere's water in the flowers, let's grow\nPeople, they lie\nBut hey, so do I\nUntil it gets old\nThere's water in the flowers, let's grow\n\nLet it go, let it be\nWe're all we need today\nLet it go, let it be\nMmm, mmm, mmm, mmm\n\nYeah, well\nSometimes I get lonely\nNot when I'm alone\nBut it's more when I'm standin' in crowds\nThat I'm feelin' the most on my own\nAnd I know that somebody knows me\nI know somewhere there's home\nI'm startin' to see that all I have to do is get up and go\nGoin', goin', goin' before I'm gone\nGotta get goin', goin', goin' before I'm gone\n\nAyy, and I know we try\nDays, they go by\nUntil we get old\nThere's water in the flowers, let's grow\nPeople, they lie\nBut hey, so do I\nUntil it gets old\nThere's water in the flowers, let's grow\n"}
{"text":"(Uh) Uh, uh\n\nClose my eyes before I cross the street\nCar 'bout to hit me, then he oughta beep (Uh-huh)\nWatchin' Dawson's Creek 'til I fall asleep\nIt's harder than it seems, I'm underwater in my dreams\nI'm in awe, this jigsaw puzzle's not complete\nI'm just an idea, nothin' con-cer-ete (Woah)\nCame to raise limits, get higher than plane engines\nThey tryna change wit' us, but come to the same difference (Okay)\nShut your pie-hole, I'm dope and I know\nMy voice sound like it was a sample off a vinyl\nI don't mind those hatin' on my style\nI tend to take the high road, get stoned and fly low\nI'm no God\nI don't think that I'm a human though, 'cause I'm so odd\nPeople sellin' drugs 'cause they can't find no job\nWonder if Christ made a million off of sellin' the cross\nLet bygones be bygones, my mind strong as pythons\nThe day that I die on will turn me to an icon\nSearch the world for Zion or a shoulder I can cry on\nThe best of all time, I'm Dylan, Dylan, Dylan\nDylan, (Dylan)\nYou might also like\nSomebody do somethin'\n(Somebody do somethin') Somebody do somethin'\n(Somebody do somethin') Somebody do somethin'\n(Somebody do somethin') Somebody do somethin'\nYeah, yeah, yeah, somebody move somethin'\nYeah, yeah, somebody move somethin'\nYeah, yeah, somebody move somethin'\nYeah, yeah, yeah, somebody move somethin'\n\nAh\u2014ah, ah\u2014ah\u2014ah\n(Woah) Yeah\nIt ain't no party like aristocratic parties\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYah, yah, yah\nAh-huh, ah-huh\nSaid, it ain't no party like aristocratic parties\nYeah, yo\n\nSippin' Jameson like I was majored in whiskey flavorin'\nWhen I'm drunk, I'll cut your head off and leave it danglin' (Woah)\nFlyLo's still tryna put me onto Ableton\nAsian women love me, I look like David Duchovny\nIn kindergarten, used to put some condoms in my cubby\nIn case one of these hoes was tryna fuck me\nI ain't nobody, and neither are you (Nope)\nBeen contemplatin' if I even still believe in the truth, I'm so stubborn\nI'd rather write my own history book\nWhere the world don't give a fuck 'bout how you physically look\nAll your songs are sixteens and a hook\nWe here to reinvent music, it's time for the revolution\nI'm dyin' for the movement, tryin' not to lose it\nJewish Buddhist consumin' the views of Christianity\nWonder if Hindus like to eat fish soup\nIf it's true, they should hit Alaska in a igloo\nI hear the fish bitin' nice right now\nI can't figure out life and feel right right now\nBoo, if I think it, I should say it, there's a reason that I write it down\nSpit the shit that leave a diaper brown (Poo)\nUh, yeah (Somebody do somethin',) somebody do somethin'\nYeah, yeah, yeah (Somebody do somethin')\n(Somebody do somethin') Uh, somebody do somethin'\n(Somebody do somethin') Yeah, yeah, yeah, somebody do somethin'\nAnd somebody move somethin'\nYeah, yeah, yeah, somebody move somethin'\nYou right there, somebody move somethin'\nUh, uh-huh, somebody move somethin'\n(Yo) Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah (Yo, yo, yo)"}
{"text":"*Coughs*\nI think I'm gettin' sick\nBeen in this room\nLike I was hidin' from somethin'\nLook, ugh\n\nPosin' a question: how many been empty and holdin' aggression?\nClose to depression, open your eyes and just focus a second\nFuck a recession, my brother my mind is my weapon\nI'm lettin' it go, loaded and pointed at negative energy\nTellin' me stop, they tellin' me, \"No\" (Don't)\nYour aura is somethin' you ain't even sure of\nExplore the core of California, whores got more to snort up\nI've had a smorgasbord of pornographic thought\nThat's a lot, the feelin' come after the shock\nPraise me, I'd rather you not, 'cause\nIt's drivin' me crazy, the fact that you pay me amaze me\nThat's somethin' I love\nYou come to the club searchin' for drugs, drunk, fuckin' these sluts\nGod loves me, what if he does? What does it mean?\nYou wastin' away doin' nothin', you frontin'\nWhy aren't you chasin' your dreams, ugh?\nWe wonder 'bout life, but none of us willin' to learn\nThe money we earn is somethin' to burn\nWhy won't they give me a turn? I'll\nFeed the hungry and clothe the naked\nYou mistaken, the world is cold and it's lonely, ain't it?\nWhen them high-rollers homes in Vegas raided with some home invasion\nContaminatin' the place with plague, we just saved the day\nI waste away in a room spittin' these raps\nYahweh put the world in my hands, I'm givin' it back, yep\nYou might also like\nIt's a gift\n(Our) Our time to be alive\nNo earthly vehicle\nCan contain this drive\nIt's a gift\n(Our) Our time to be alive\nNo earthly vehicle\nCan contain this drive\n\nForfeitin' the war, he lays his sword down and walks away\nGrabs a 40 from the corner store, begins to contemplate\nDealin' with death like he work in the morgue, absorbin' souls forgotten\nHe lost his way, starin' down that barrel, thinkin', \"Not today\"\nLife's so precious, Lord knows that life is so precious\nFight to the death 'til there's nobody left\nAnd you holdin' your breath 'cause you might get infected\nI'm animalistic, instinctively thinkin' of gettin' ballistic\nBe specific, to those in control we all statistics\nMisogynistic with a twisted mind, I'm intertwined\nMy trigger finger itchin', all I kill is time\u2014*Bang*\nInitial symptoms of schizophrenic behavior\nThe mind is like religion, can't agree on who's its savior\nThe newest flavor of superhero, I'm shootin' lasers\n'Cept I'm cool with Vader and blowin' up rooms that's full of strangers\nA news anchor the youth can relate to, it's nature\nYou a hater? I'll deal with you later, no, thank ya\nI'm just your neighbor, please don't do me no favors\nReally Doe, come on, homie, we major\nI waste away in this room spittin' out raps\nYahweh put the world in my hands, I'm givin' it back\nIt's a gift\n(Our) Our time to be alive\nNo earthly vehicle\nCan contain this drive\nIt's a gift\n(Our) Our time to be alive\nNo earthly vehicle\nCan contain this drive\n\n\nIt's just a different time, man\nIt's just a different time\nThere was a time\nWhen we showed love\nDa, da-da, da-da, da-da\nYou know like how we (Da, da-da, da-da, da-da)\nApproach a young lady (Oh-whoa)\nYou see a beautiful young lady, you like (Oh-whoa)\nYou say, damn, man (La, da-da, da-da, da-da)\nYou're gorgeous (Da, da-da, da-da, da-da-da-da)\nI'll take off my coat right now and (Dum, la-da-da)\nLay it down on the puddle and (Dum)\nMake sure you don't miss a step (Da, da-da, da-da, da-da)\nDa, da-da, da-da, da-da\nYou know what I'm talkin' 'bout, young man? (Oh-whoa)\nSee all these bitches and... (Oh-whoa)\nHoes and... (La, da-da, da-da, da-da)\nThots? I just don't understand it  (Da, da-da, da-da, da-da-da-da)\nI don't know what's to come of you, young man (Dum, la-da-da, dum)"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsTranslationsSvenskaEspa\u00f1olItalianoWoods Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nYeah, things like this ain't built to last\nI might just\u2005fade\u2005like those before\u2005me\nWhen will you forget my past?\nGot\u2005questions, ask, you know the stories\nAnd you need to let me know\nWhen you're leaving, where you go\nCan I come?\nDo you believe me, are you close?\nYeah, even if you don't\nThat'll get you sprung\n\nDo I, do I, do I love?\nCan I, can I, can I get enough?\n\nYeah, don't run away, love\nHate love, heartbreak will have you bankrupt\nToo many days in a daze, better wake up\nI put your face in a place where the space was\nNobody makes you feel like you but (Do I?)\nAnd you don't know what you should do\nYou just lookin' for someone to make you move, ooh, tell me (Do I?)\nI make this planet feel like home\nIt's us versus time, the door is closing\nSo far beyond all our control\nYou saved a soul so close to broken\nIt's so much better when you wait\nForever and a day, that's all I got\nPut it together then it break\nAll the energy it take, it never stop\nYou might also like\nDo I, do I, do I love?\nCan I, can I, can I get enough?\n\nYeah, I never slip, I never fall\nI tried to tell you 'bout a better life\nAnd get involved big or small\nIt's been my fault, I keep it safe, it's in the vault\nBlindfolded, keep it going 'til we hit a wall, yeah\nI'm never going through the motions\nI'm just tryna lay your body down slowly\nWe can only go up\nWe can only go up\n\nDo I, do I, do I love?\nCan I, can I, can I get enough?"}
{"text":"93 ContributorsNikes on My Feet Lyrics\nWoah\nHaha, yeah\n\nAnd the Nikes on my feet keep my cypher complete\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes\nAnd the Nikes on my feet keep my cypher complete\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes (Hey, hey)\nNike-Nike-Nikes (Hey), Nike-Nike-Nikes (Haha)\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes (We just some motherfuckin' kids)\nNikes on my feet keep my cypher complete (Just some motherfuckin' kids)\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes\n\nAyy, lace 'em up, lace 'em up, lace 'em up, lace 'em\nBlue suede shoes stay crispy like bacon\nNikes on my feet make my cypher complete, uh\nI stay shining like the lights on the street in the night\nRevis take me shoppin' when I'm up in New York\nHit the shoe store, go and cop a few more\nYou at the mall getting dinner at the food court\nI'm in LA eatin' twenty-two course\nYoung boss, bitch, paper in my pockets\nI got a closet filled with shoeboxes\nMom said my spending habit little bit obnoxious\nBut a pilot stay fresh up in his cockpit\nUsed to rock hand-me-downs\nNow I buy some clothes, wear 'em out\nHit the club, bitches pull they cameras out\nLivin' in a dream, they beginnin' to believe\nMy hotel smell like cigarettes and weed\nShit, with what I'm spittin', they should give me a degree\nGood liquor, what I'm sippin' isn't cheap, uh\nFinna blow, don't snooze, don't sleep\nAll I really need is some shoes on my feet\nYou might also like\nAnd the Nikes on my feet keep my cypher complete\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes\nAnd the Nikes on my feet keep my cypher complete\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes\nNike-Nike-Nikes (Hey), Nike-Nike-Nikes (Hey)\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes (Hey)\nNike-Nike-Nikes (Uh), Nike-Nike-Nikes (We just some motherfuckin' kids, haha)\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes\n\nI make 'em so mad, they got no swag\nPippens on my feet, they the throwbacks, look\nMy money good, but these hoes bad\nSo they stay attached to my gonads, uh\nWakin' up to a few L's\nOpen up my closet to that new shoe smell\nI guess I'm doin' well\nSmokin' all the weed that I used to sell\nBut once my album goes in the shelves\nIt's going Nextel how it's finna sell\nFor now, we're sellin' tapes out my shoebox\nAny spot, just set up my shop\nYou're mad that your girl always says that I'm hot\nShe buyin' my t-shirts, but she spendin' your guap, uh\nSay, \"What up?\" if you see me around\nNike Airs separate my feet from the ground, it's just\nAnd the Nikes on my feet keep my cypher complete\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes (Yeah)\nAnd the Nikes on my feet keep my cypher complete\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes\nNike-Nike-Nikes, Nike-Nike-Nikes\nNike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nike-Nikes\nNike-Nike-Nikes, Nike-Nike-Nikes"}
{"text":"93 ContributorsSomeone Like You Lyrics\nSomeone like, someone like\nSomeone like, someone like\nSomeone like, someone like\nSomeone like, someone like you\nSomeone like you\nSomeone like, someone like\nSomeone like, someone like\nSomeone like, someone like\nSomeone like, someone like you\nSomeone like you\nSomeone like, someone like\nSomeone like, someone like\nSomeone like, someone like\nSomeone like, someone like you\nSomeone like you\n\nUh, yeah\nLight up 'til the pain gone (Gone), all I hear is the same song (Song)\nWhen the radio came on, fuck around and get based on (Bitch)\nDo this shit 'til the day I die (Die), are you ready (Ready), are you ready? (No)\nTerrified but my hand is steady (Steady), verified, get the camera ready (Click)\nCarry my own weight, all these earthquakes don't wake\nMe up from this deep sleep (Sleep), divin' into this cold lake (Brr)\nFuck a bitch 'til her toes shake (Shake), tellin' me I'm her soulmate (Mate)\nDisguised emotion, no face, bullshit with that, no thanks (Uh-huh)\nDealin' with it since '08 (No), fucked around, now I'm done\nAnd I heard you're supposed to race when you hear the sound of that gun (Blaow)\nNow it's losin' all of its fun (Fun), spendin' days in solitude\nToo many dumb interviews put me in this awful mood\nNot thinkin' logical (No), gettin' high, jump off the moon (Moon)\nLooked into his soul, when he died right there in the hospital\nPeace don't seem possible (No), when the mind is so closed (Closed)\nCame in for your money (Ha), then left with all of your hoes, ha\nYou might also like\nLife move fast but my baby keep it slow\nOpen up your mind, start forgettin' what you know, oh\nShit ain't been the same since she left me here alone, woah\nYou hurt so good\nGirl, your lovin' hurt so good (Uh)\n\nLove me, love me, that fentanyl, it numb me (Numb)\nBeautiful, it get ugly, turn you into a junkie (What?)\nStill searchin' for something (Who?), but I don't know what (What)\nDreaming about nothing, wake you up and then fuck (Fuck)\nI love it when you get a little nasty (Uh-huh)\nHit it from the back, if you like that, wiggle them ass cheeks (Blaow)\nIsn't that sweet? Same shit we did last week (Uh-huh)\n'Fore all the cash, you might've stood up and would've walked past me (Bye)\nWake me up from this bad dream (Dream), put a match to this gasoline ('Line)\nEvery night you somebody different, got me thinkin' it's Halloween\nFucked up, can't feel myself, work hard, might kill myself\nExist through audio, but all my problems as real as hell\nTrapped in this wishin' well, death creepin' like Splinter Cell\nGettin' high, blew my mind away, find the words, what I'm tryna say\nI'ma think of that later (Later)\nWhen the world goes against you, you better get that paper (Paper)\n\nLife move fast but my baby keep it slow\nOpen up your mind, start forgettin' what you know, oh\nThis shit ain't been the same since she left me here alone, woah\nYou hurt so good\nGirl, your lovin' hurt so good\nYou hurt so good\nYou hurt so good"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsWatching Movies Lyrics\nYo, all your bitches got the green boat\nYeah\n\nPeople worship these idols 'til they come in contact with Gods\nHoes is all my disciples, you get mind fucked with these broads (Goddamn)\nLife is just a recital, better 'member all that you practiced (Woah)\nWhen I die, throw a couple bad bitches in my casket, woah\n\nThink it's time for a revolution, me and my dogs 'bout to start a riot\nStill they sleepin' but I'm eatin', you and your people are on a diet\nTim Allen off Home Improvement, 'telligent but we going stupid\nThis the new shit, hit the strip club, see some hoes that I went to school with\nOut in London like Lennox Lewis (Woah) bitch lookin' like Farrah Fawcett (Woah)\nI'm just tryna make better music, get this money, share the profits (Let's go)\nNow this class gettin' led by students, smoke some weed, get head while I do it\nStarted out under the ground, they didn't fuck with me, now they all comin' around\nMoney, I'm huntin' it down, plantin' the seeds, workin' and watchin' it grow\nI got so many ways I can make money, I'll always be straight, I just thought you should know\n\nBeen on my grind, takin' what's mine, I got my eyes on the throne\nI'ma be fine, no matter the time, we all go along with the show, yo\nYou might also like\nThat girl beautiful, somebody introduce me\nShe ain't your girl tonight, nah, that bitch a groupie\nThere's some money in the building, better give it to me (Let's go, let's go)\nI see you starin' at me like you in the movies\n(Woah, woah) Yeah, now you watching movies\nL\u2014l\u2014lookin' at my life, it's like you watchin' movies\nLookin' at my life, it's like you watchin' movies\nL\u2014l\u2014lookin' at my life, it's like you watchin' movies\n\nPeople worship these idols 'til they come in contact with Gods\nHoes is all my disciples, you get mind fucked with these broads (Goddamn)\nLife is just a recital, better 'member all that you practiced (Woah)\nWhen I die, throw a couple bad bitches in my casket, woah\n\nFuck a day job, fuck a day job, got ya bitch here in just a tank top\nGettin' paid, roll my face off, bitch you're bank fraud: Bernie Madoff\nEducate y'all then erase y'all, LL Cool J without the Kangol\nI don't see the need to stunt, wish you the best, I'ma just light up this blunt\nThis bitch love me long time, don't know why she wouldn't\nSay my D could win the Heisman, yeah, I'm Charles Woodson\nCouple million off a tour, thats a lot of bookings (Money)\nMy bitches gorgeous lookin', imported from the shore to Brooklyn\nComin' from out of the 'Burgh, bitch, I'm absurd, fuck you, I hope you insured\nHatin'? I'll give you just what you deserve, that's my word, put it on all that I'm worth\nBeen on my grind, takin' what's mine, I got my eyes on the throne\nI'ma be fine, no matter the time, we all go along with the show, yo\n\nThat girl beautiful, somebody introduce me (Whoop)\nShe ain't your girl tonight, nah, that bitch a groupie (Woo)\nThere's some money in the building, better give it to me\nI see you starin' at me like you in the movies\n(Woah, woah) Yeah, now you watchin' movies\nL\u2014l\u2014lookin' at my life, it's like you watchin' movies\nLookin' at my life, it's like you watchin' movies\nL\u2014l\u2014lookin' at my life, it's like you watchin' movies"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsThoughts from a Balcony Lyrics\nIt was all about a dream\nTurned into reality, double-cup of lean\nUgh\n\nLet me get a one-way ticket, haven't picked a destination\nI'm just tryna catch the train before it has to leave the station\nPackin' no bags, nothin' but the clothes on my back\nWith a Cognac, let me sip it, tryin' to relax\nRed wine up in my glass plus Filet Mignon\nI got a army right up under me, I'm Genghis Khan\nYeah, it's me against the world, I guess I'll take them on\nI might stop and see my girl, but I ain't stayin' long\nWhat if I'm gone, what the fuck you gon' think then?\nI told my story, put my life inside this ink pen\nSaid I'll make it big when everybody know me\nWell, I made it big and everybody phony, ha\nSo could you pour me? I need a cup\nNo, none of that liquor, mix in purple stuff\nI could talk my pain, but would it hurt too much?\nGo 'head, judge me, hate cost money, but this love free\n\nThey just dreams, turn 'em to reality\nDouble-cup of lean, standin' on my balcony\nLookin' at the sky, thinkin' it could all be mine\nAll we got is memories, so what the fuck is time?\nThey just dreams, turn 'em to reality\nDouble-cup of lean, standin' on my balcony\nLookin' at the street, thinkin' it could all be mine\nAll we got is memories, so what the fuck is time?\nWhat the\u2014, what the fuck is time? (Heh)\nAsk 'em, what the fuck is time? (I don't know)\nWhat the fuck is time? I ask 'em, what the fuck is time?\nYou might also like\nWhat do you do when you think you could be a icon?\n'Cause all these people get to screamin' when the lights on\nLike they just seen a ghost, earn my stripes, zebra coat\nRacin' to the gate but my flight gone\nAnd now these writers takin' shots without a Nikon\nBut I don't fight though, figure it's a typo\nSeems we in some shit now, gonna be alright though\nPotion in my Sprite, then my night slows... down, down (Aha)\nSee, that's exactly what I need\nMy khaki's filled with cheese, my homie Sap is on the beat\nLike it was \"Donald Trump,\" a fuckin' hit but I just call it luck\nThey throw it on when I'm walkin' in the club\nHey, this the 'Burgh shit, I don't deserve this\nWell, I don't think you lookin' far beyond the surface\nLearn quick, now I'm big time\nFill your cup up, and I'ma sip mine\n\nFill it up with dreams, turn 'em to reality\nDouble-cup of lean, standin' on my balcony\nLookin' at the sky, thinkin' it could all be mine\nAll we got is memories, so what the fuck is time?\nThey just dreams, turn 'em to reality\nDouble-cup of lean, standin' on my balcony\nLookin' at the street, thinkin' it could all be mine\nAll we got is memories, so what the fuck is time?\nWhat the\u2014, what the fuck is time? (Heh)\nAsk 'em, what the fuck is time? (I don't know)\nWhat the fuck is time? I ask 'em, what the fuck is time?\nA'ight"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsRight Lyrics\nYeah, it's been a while without your face\nBut I saw your picture on the wall\u2005the\u2005other day\nToo much\u2005distance, too much space\nYou need to\u2005come back home or run along, yeah\nI'm waitin' for the light to change\nYou ask me how I've been, well I'm good, I can't complain\nTimes get harder, things get strained\nAll I know, I don't want you gone\n\nI know it hasn't been easy lately\nBut you don't wanna leave me, baby\nAnd you know I hate to keep you waitin'\nBut when it's right, then it's right, yeah\n\nDays turn into nights\nConversations turn into fights, we gon' be alright\nLove turn into life\nGirl, you been burnin' so bright, let me turn off the lights\nStay awake 'til the mornin', yeah\nIt ain't always great, but it's never borin', yeah\n\nAnd I been itchin' for your love\nDon't want to feel a single thing if it ain't your touch\nI get drunk and become numb\nJust want to stumble into us\nBut baby, don't stop now 'cause it ain't over, yeah\nFew years ago I was so dumb\nClueless, young and stupid, but look at who I have become\nI ain't gonna break your heart, promise it's always safe\nBaby, don't go now, pull me closer\nYou might also like\nI know it hasn't been easy lately\nBut you don't wanna leave me, baby (Woah)\nYou know I hate to keep you waitin'\nBut I know when it's right, then it's right, yeah\n\nDays turn into nights\nConversations turn into fights, we gon' be alright\n'Cause love turn into life\nGirl, you been burnin' so bright, let me turn off the lights\nStay awake 'til the mornin'\nIt ain't always great, but it's never borin'\n\nWoah-woah, woah-woah, woah-woah\nWoah-woah, woah-woah, woah-woah\nWoah-woah, woah-woah, woah-woah (Ha-ha)\nBut when it's right, then it's right, alright\nOoh-ooh, mhm\nOoh-ooh, mhm\nOoh-ooh, mhm"}
{"text":"\nYeah, yeah, can you turn up my headphones?\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nThis music go with my funeral, yeah, yeah\nMusic go with my funeral, a-hem, yeah, I said\n\nSaid I was raised inside this gritty city, ridin' through, you probably miss me\nMy bicycle fell, I hit the road, the mailman almost hit me\nAll these sins were more than shitty, I just pray the Lord forgive me\nDoin' drugs is just a war with boredom but they sure to get me\nMy side-bitch is sort of pretty, but she got enormous titties\nKnow I'm worth a fortune, she just want a brand new Porsche or Bentley\nHad a few abortions, unfortunately, I forced them\nLord knows I'll turn a child to an orphan when I'm tourin'\nI'm more than what I think of myself, I really have to be\nSit at home and drink by myself, my thoughts harassin' me\nActually, as a matter of fact, she ain't gettin' back to me\nA shame that my tragedy my masterpiece, yeah\nTrapped inside these dreams of mine\nJust tryna get some peace of mind, yeah\nI've been trapped inside these dreams of mine\nSo you'll never get a piece of mind\nYou might also like\nThis the last (Last) day (Day)\nOf my life (Of my life, of my life, of my life)\nParty like it's the last (Last) day (Day)\nOf your life (Of your life, of your life, of your life)\nThis the motherfuckin' last (Last) day (Day)\nOf my life (Of my life, of my life, of my life)\nParty like it's the last (Last) day (Day)\nOf your life (Of your life), yeah, yeah\n\nSee, we swallowed in this web of lies, never try to exercise\nYou used to be a fantasy but now I guess it's televised\nI heard the legends never die, oh, this lonely hell of mine\nThere never was a better time to better myself\nForever I melt and float away like waves in the ocean\nStarin' inside of Heaven's eyes, the gates will never open\nI'm smokin' on this field of hope, waitin' 'til my deal gets closed\nI keep gettin' hotter but all I seem to feel is cold\nTwenty-two don't feel so old, but I think I'm eighty-two\nYou mean to tell me God took seven days and all he made was you?\nI'm out here with the kangaroos, makin' danger, break the rules\nCelebrate my date of birth with acid, get the days confused\nHappiness I take from you, searchin' for the naked truth\nI'm not awake, I'm in a lake, I'll swim away with you\nBitch, check out the butterfly\nIf you the truth, then what the fuck am I?\nYeah\nThis the last (Last) day (Day)\nOf my life (Of my life, of my life, of my life)\nParty like it's the last (Last) day (Day)\nOf your life (Of your life, of your life, of your life)\nThis the motherfuckin' last (Last) day (Day)\nOf my life (Of my life, of my life, of my life)\nParty like it's the last (Last) day (Day)\nOf your life (Of your life), yeah\n\nSaid, where are you goin'?\nWhere are you headed?\nWhere are you goin'?\nCan I come? Can I come?"}
{"text":"*Dog barking*\nYeah\nYeah, yeah, um\n(What?) Yeah\n('Sup?) Well\n\nYou could have the world in the palm of your hands\nYou still might drop it\nAnd everybody wanna reach inside your pockets\nI tell 'em, \"Red light, stop it\"\nShit, that give me more headaches than alcoholics\n\nThere was nothin' in my wallet, just a lot of dreamin'\nI built a crib on top o' the Promised Land, we'll call it even\nHmm, I bring more flavor than all the seasons\nWinter, spring, summer, fall\nThe grass is always greener 'til I cut it all\nPlease leave me to my studies, I give you no applause\nMy hands been countin' money, and it's hard to be the boss\nBut somebody gotta do it (It gets so exhausting)\nOften with the bullshit, and, baby, I been through it\nEnough for the both of us\nSo come over later and we won't let no one close to us\nWe could be posted up\nYeah\nYou might also like\nOkay, well, you could have the world in the palm of your hands\nYou still might drop it\nAnd everybody wanna reach inside your pockets\nSo it goes\nIt's like, in every conversation, we the topic\nThis narcissism, more like narcotics\nSo it goes\n\nWell, everybody gather round\nI'm still standin', sit down\nWhoa-oh\nAnd I know I been out (And I know I been out)\nBut now I'm back in town (But now I'm back in town), so I\nShow you the ropes\nSo it goes, so it goes, so it goes\nLa-da-da-da, da-da-da\nLa-da-da-da, da-da-da\nSo it goes (Ya! So it goes)\nLa-da-da-da, da-da-da\nLa-da-da-da-da, da-da-da\nSo it goes\nWell, this is a special delivery, comin' to you live with the\nEndless artillery, always down to ride\nMy eyes on the enterprise\nNine lives, never die, fuck a Heaven, I'm still gettin' high\nNever mind, did I mention I'm fine?\n'Cause her pussy gettin' wetter when the weather dry\nClementine, peelin' off and everyone get left behind\nI'm only 5'7'' 'cept I'm feelin' like I'm 7'5\"\nDamn it, cross planets, interstellar\nNever land, not a Jackson, packed with action\nSo what's happenin', my man?\nNo relaxin', kickin' back, this ain't exactly in the plan\nI can't get no satisfaction, goddamn\nThey sayin' I been gone too long\nI could just tell 'em, \"Fuck you,\" but that come on too strong\nMy God, it go on and on\nJust like a circle, I go back where I'm from\nWell, everybody gather round\nI'm still standin', sit down\nWhoa-oh\nAnd I know I been out (And I know I been out)\nBut now I'm back in town (But now I'm back in town), so I\nShow you the ropes\nSo it goes, so it goes, so it goes\nLa-da-da-da, da-da-da\nLa-da-da-da, da-da-da\nSo it goes (Ya! So it goes)\nLa-da-da-da, da-da-da\nLa-da-da-da-da, da-da-da\nSo it goes\n"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsLucky Ass Bitch Lyrics\n(Again and again and again and again)\nOl' ratchet-ass bitch (Do it again, do it again)\n(Fuck me) I see you out there\n(Fuck me) Tryna get your hustle on\n(Fuck me) Ain't no nigga gonna pay your muthafuckin' bills, bitch\n(Fuck me) Pay your own shit, I don't give a fuck, ho\n(Baise-moi) (Do it again, do it again)\nMac Miller, tell these hoes what's up, man (Fuck)\n\nShe sayin', \"Fuck me, fuck me\"\nShe like it rough and that's rugby\nI'm partyin' where there's drugs free\nThis life I live, it don't come cheap\nLeave a handprint on her buttcheek\nShe give me head while I puff trees\nI'm on drugs, she on drugs, her nose just got bloody (Woo)\nSniffin' coke lines off my dick, she ridin' on that train (Train)\nShe crushin' down that powder, I'm puffin' on this sour\nBeen fuckin' her for hours and I still ain't got my nut (Nut)\nYou fuckin' with that molly\nShe ain't gon' let you bust, ugh (Blaow)\nGive me some while I hit the blunt\nI'm in your spirit, let me lift it up\nIf Daddy come, get my shit and run\nHe gon' see my ass, go get his gun\nYou a devil, bitch, let me tell you that\nFeel like I been to hell and back\nYou textin' me, addicted, you need me, you miss it\nShe crazy, she nasty, every day she harass me\nI'm fuckin' her to sleep and then she pay for my taxi\nGoddamn, the Sun is comin' up\nThat's the last time that I'm gon' be fuckin' with them drugs, yup\nYou might also like\nShe get a bunch of money (Money), spend it all on drugs (Drugs)\nMobbin' with her bitches (Bitches), never fall in love (Love)\nDumpin' out that yayo (Yayo), sniffin' all it up (Up)\nGo ahead and hate her, 'cause everybody does\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\n\nShe got money, drugs and freedom (Freedom)\nBlunts is what she chiefin' (Chiefin')\nShe ain't got a job, but fuck it, she don't need one (No)\nDrive drunk, she swervin' (Swervin')\nTryna fuck, she certain (Certain)\nRun around and stumble down, hit her head, she hurtin'\nDrunk as fuck, sniffin' pills, wildin' out, tell the bitch to chill\nCup of syrup and a blunt of purp\nWhich one of my homies gon' fuck her first? (Woo)\nShe in love with drugs, that pussy get licked up\nPicked up, then dicked down\nBitch, tell me who rich now? (Rich now)\nYou fuckin' with the Most Dope knuckleheads\nGettin' money, fuck the feds\nYeah, that Stevie Wonder bread (Bread)\nAin't a rookie, ugh, that bitch is famous\u2014Snooki\nOne thing I won't do (What's that?) Pay for pussy\nShe get a bunch of money (Money), spend it all on drugs (Drugs)\nMobbin' with her bitches (Bitches), never fall in love (Love)\nDumpin' out that yayo (Yayo), sniffin' all it up (Up)\nGo ahead and hate her, 'cause everybody does\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\n\nI'm trippy, man, lookin' for a trippy chick (Trippy chick)\nThat like to get fucked up and do some trippy shit (Mm-hmm)\nPaper planes rolled up, I call 'em \"trippy sticks\" (Mm-hmm)\nWeed, pills, and the drank (Codeine), she with it\nJuicy got money and Juicy got bitches (Yep)\nSmokin' and drinkin' that Charlie Sheen liquor (Yep)\nUp in this bitch (Yep), keep two hoes with me (Yep)\nPoppin' them superman pills, gettin' freaky (They freaky)\nI like double D's (Uh-huh), she like double D's (Bitch)\nShawty can't lose (Bitch), she play on both teams (They goin')\nHell in her mouth (Uh-huh), her becky fire (Fire)\nMolly, pills, orange juice got that bitch wired (She high)\nAll my hoes got money and they keep me higher (Yessir)\nThen I line 'em up for a m\u00e9nage \u00e0 trois-yer (Let's go)\nShe get a bunch of money (Money), spend it all on drugs (Drugs)\nMobbin' with her bitches (Bitches), never fall in love (Love)\nDumpin' out that yayo (Yayo), sniffin' all it up (Up)\nGo ahead and hate her, 'cause everybody does\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\nGoddamn, that's a lucky-ass bitch (-ass bitch)\n\nAgain and again and again and again\nTrippy (Do it again, do it again)\nSome high-ass music, man\nThis shit got me fucked up right now\nThis music has got me in a trance\nI'm stoned like a motherfucker, nigga\nTwo thousand and fifty, trippy shit\nYes, I am high, for the rest of my life\nWas that good for you?\nWas that good for you?\nWas that good for you?"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsTranslationsMac Miller - Love Lost (Traducci\u00f3n al Espa\u00f1ol)Love Lost Lyrics\n(Our love was lost)\nHey, hey, haha (Where'd you go? Where'd you\u2014)\n(But now we've found it)\nOh yeah, uh (Where'd you go? Where'd you go? Where'd you go?)\n(Our love was lost, oh, lost)\nDoin' the happy dance (Where'd you\u2014, where'd you go?)\n(And hope was gone)\nDoin' the happy dance (Where'd you go? Haha)\nDoin' the happy dance (Haha, yeah)\n\n(Our love was lost)\nWhere'd you go? What'd you do?\nHow the hell you make me fall in love with you?\n(But now we've found it)\nAnd then you leave, now you're gone\nAll I got is this damn song\n(And if you flash your heart, oh, heart)\nSo I can feel but I can't touch\nYou said my love was a bit too much\n(I won't deny it)\nBroke my heart, can't find no crutch\nSo why don't you come on back home? (Can I spit?)\n\nHey, I'm a fuckin' workaholic with a passion in my heart\nTreatin' rappin' as a art in which ya have to be a part of\nI just copped a new car to hear it start up\nTry to do the right thing and please karma\nAll I want to know is where the fuck did ya have to go?\nI've been waitin' on you, baby\nWhy don't you leave and come on home?\nI can't be mad, I'm livin' my dream (Goin' all around the globe)\nThough you said you think you love me (You need to let me know)\nSo I've been fuckin' all these hoes and I've been blowin' all this cash\n'Cause, baby, this just the beginnin' and I'ma make all of it back\nYou might also like\n(Our love was lost)\nWhere'd you go? What'd you do?\nHow the hell you make me fall in love with you?\n(But now we've found it)\nAnd then you leave, now you're gone\nAll I got is this damn song (Hey, hey, hey)\n(And if you flash your heart, oh, heart)\nSo I can feel but I can't touch (Hey, hey, hey)\nYou said my love was a bit too much (Hey)\n(I won't deny it)\nBroke my heart, can't find no crutch\nSo why don't you come on back home? (Hey)\n\nHey, hey, It's all good, everybody tryna eat tonight\nTryna go to sleep, havin' good dreams tonight\nYou go home, it might get better\nAll I know: It don't last forever\nSo take it while you got it, try to get a little more\nThey say I'm gettin' better than I ever been before\nWell, that's for sure, tell 'em what I do\nRap keep me fed like a spoon gettin' soup\nI've been out here on the road and now they missin' me at home\nAll these ex-girls that I used to know are hittin' up my phone\nBut I ain't here, I guess you can call back\nSex, drugs, and rock-and-roll, I think I'll take all that, haha\n(Our love was lost)\nWhere'd you go? What'd you do?\nHow the hell you make me fall in love with you?\n(But now we've found it)\nAnd then you leave, now you're gone\nAll I got is this damn song\n(And if you flash your heart, oh, heart)\nSo I can feel but I can't touch\nYou said my love was a bit too much\n(I won't deny it)\nBroke my heart, can't find no crutch\nSo why don't you come on back home?\n\nYeah\nHuh-huh, and it gets no better than this\nHuh, yeah, it gets no better than this\nYeah, It gets no better, yeah, It gets no better\nYeah, It gets no better, this shit forever\nGet no better, it get no better\nYeah, it get no better, yeah, this shit forever\nBum-bada-bum-bum-bum-bum-bum, ba-dum\nYou can cut it here and then we're done"}
{"text":"Uh, ign'ant-ass white kid (White kid)\nBut I'm still bicycling and recycling ('Cyling)\nAnd I'm still eatin' gummy bear vitamins\nAll my bitches takin' Vicodin, huffin' nitrogen (Go)\nHyper than Williams', middle son\nSince I was a little one, moms had to put me on the Ritalin\nMade a swisher run, crack the 40 then I lit a blunt\nTold Chuck I had a couple raps, so we kicked the drums\nAll the best rappers are usually dead\nBut I'm the poison that left a widow Juliet\nIn the studio with candles lit and Buddha heads\nComin' up with all the coldest shit, take your Sudafed\nContagious, speakin' while sedated\nGod shit, make 'em want to add a couple pages to the Bible\nI ain't got nothin' left in my will\n'Cept, \"Throw it all in the casket, it's mine still\"\nUh, I need some backpack cast raps\nTook a break just to kill the game half-assed\nSet some rat traps, went and took a cat nap\nWoke up, threw the dead bodies in the trash bags\nAct polite, but I'm nasty on the mic\nYour bitch don't want my dick, then she has to be a dyke\nSlap her but she like it, tell me, \"Master, feed me pipe\"\nI'm the scotch on the rocks, you the Appletini type\nYou might also like\nBitch, suck my dick before I slap you with it\nGees\nBitch, suck my dick before I slap you with it\nGees, woah\n\nUh, still fuckin' with these hoes, though (Hoes, though)\nBozo on these doppelg\u00e4nger Jojos (Jojos)\nTake a bitch to SoHo for some fro-yo\nAnd tell her she gon' blow it: Romo\nAnd now, I'm out in Cali like Tone-L\u014dc (Tone-L\u014dc)\nYoung boy, but I'm chillin' with some grown folk (Grown folk)\nNo joke, Most Dope, you just bowl smoke\nHow much coke you gotta sell to make a boat float?\nHit 'em, hit 'em 'til they tell me, \"No more\" (No more)\nI'm a highly difficult ropes course\nPullin' up to Rome on a chrome gold horse\nSay \"Wassup?\" to the Pope, pull off in a Porsche\nWho you kiddin'? Your flow's warshed\nI ain't in the street, but I'll grill you from the porch (Bitch)\nI been had hoes, I played sports (For real)\nHer ass out the bottom of her shorts (Sheesh, woah)\n\nSuck my dick before I slap you with it\nGees\nBitch, suck my dick before I slap you with it\nGees\n(Uh, Black James Bond and a white Shaft) (Yeah)\nTurned my daughter to a queen, turned a dollar to a dream\nFlashy as high-beams, smokin' on good weed\nSomethin' from kush seeds, the only strand to smoke for us OGs\nI'm rich, car service, no car keys (Yeah!)\nFirst-class flight, 'bout to land to a new bitch (Yeah, yeah)\nShe fuck me and swallowed every homie I came with (Aww, aww)\nMCM bag and, nigga, bet some weed in it\nTwo-hundred dollars worth of Backwoods, we all livin' (Yeah, yeah)\nBrought the gangsters back the bucket hat, how real is that? (Ou)\nI'm gettin' money, rub my tummy, that's my baller sack (Ugh)\nQuarter million in a safe in case I get a case\nFaggot-ass judge hatin' on me 'cause my money straight (Yeah)\nDropped ten racks in all fifty states (Bitch)\nGon' name my next tour \"Million-Man March\" (Aww, yeah)\nMake a nun throw it back while I pull her scarf (Yeah)\nShe gave me head, my nuts touched her cross, boss\n\nFigg Side\nSuck my dick before I slap you with it (Ou-ou, yeah)"}
{"text":"Woah-oh\nWoah-oh\nWoah-oh\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets, you could (Oh)\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets, you could\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets, you could\n\nI'm prolific, so gifted\nI'm the type that's gon' go get it, no kiddin'\nBreaking down a Swisher front of your buildin'\nSitting on the steps, feeling no feelings\nLast night, it was a cold killin'\nYou gotta keep the devil in his hole, nigga\nBut you know how it go, nigga\nI'm front line every time it's on, nigga\nHunnid proof flow, run and shoot pro\nEvery few shows, I just buy some new gold\nCircle got smaller, everybody can't go\nDowntown, Diamond District, jewelers like, \"Yo\nHussle, holla at me, I got Cubans on the low\"\nFlew to Cancun, smokin' Cubans on the boat\nThen docked at Tulum just to smoke, look\nListening to music at the Mayan Ruins\nTrue devotion on the bluest ocean, cruisin'\nMy cultural influence even rival Lucien\nI'm integrated vertically, y'all niggas blew it\nThey tell me, \"Hussle, dumb it down, you might confuse 'em\"\nThis ain't that weirdo rap you motherfuckers used to\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets\nI'm an urban legend, South Central in a certain section\nCan't express how I curved detectives\nGuess it's evidence of a divine presence, blessings\nHeld me down, at times, I seem reckless, F it\nYou got an L, but got an E for effort, stretched him\nDropped him off in the Mojave desert, then left him\nAin't no answer to these trick questions\nMoney Makin' Nip, straighten out my jewelry on my bitch dresser\nWell known, flick up and jail pose\nSnatch a champagne bottle from Rico's 'til T show\nWhatever, nigga, playin' chess, not checkers, nigga\nThirty-eight special for you clever niggas\nSee, bro, if you ain't live and die by the street code\nBeen through all these motions, up and down like a see-saw\nI can never view you as my equal\nFuck I wanna hear your CD for?\nYou might also like\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets\n(We gotta make it)\nLike the beginning of Mean Streets\n\nYeah, look\nI'm finna take it there\nThis time around, I'ma make it clear\nSpoke some things into the universe and they appeared\nI say it's worth it, I won't say it's fair\nFind your purpose or you wastin' air\nFuck it, though, y'all niggas scared\nEyes opened, I can see it clear\nThey don't make 'em bar none, they don't make 'em real\nThey don't make it where I'm from, they don't take it here\nThey ain't see in due time, I be makin' mils\nBossed up in this game, I been makin' deals\nGet your lawyer on the phone, we can make it real\nI got checks and balance, I flex dramatic\nOther fifty on my neck, just my reckless habit\nAin't no pussy on my rep, disrespect the savage\nI make one phone call and the rest get handled\nIt's just another front step with candles\nLil' message from the set, \"We accept your challenge\"\nWoah-oh\nWoah-oh\nWoah-oh\nWoah, woah\nWe gotta make it, yeah, we gotta\nWe gotta make it, oh, we gotta make it\nOh, ah, ooh\nWe gotta make it, oh\nVictory Lap"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisDouble Up Lyrics\nDouble up\nThree or four times, I ain't tellin' no lies, I just run it up\nNever let a hard time humble us\nDouble up\nI ain't tellin' no lies, I just (Yeah)\nI ain't tellin' no lies, I just\nFive, four, three, two\nThat's time I got to you\nThat money, my dreams come true\nMy life in diamonds, who knew?\nWho knew?\nWho knew?\n\nTurned seven to a fourteen\nFourteen to a whole thing\nLord knows it's a cold game\nSwitched up on you hoes, man\nBig body take both lanes\nBackseat, blowin' propane\nAll-black, five gold chains\nYoung rich nigga bossed up on his own, man\nMy new shit sound like it's \"Soul Train\"\nTookie Williams over Coltrane\nEric B by the rope chain\nRSC, we for sure bang\nTiny Locs and they go crazy\nWhat you know about the dope game?\nWas you born in the '80s? Did your mama smoke cocaine?\nHave you ever seen a whole thang?\nBut you drove to the streets 'cause you grew up on short change?\nFucked up when the dope age\nIt remind me when these rappers drop duds and they quotes change\nHad the part with the low fade\nI would stand in front of Nix with my sack for the whole day\nDrive-bys, that was road rage\nThen we park and hop out, learn levels to this whole thang\nOld school, play the O'Jays\nTryna make a slow change, mama still slavin' for a low wage\nTryna\nYou might also like\nDouble up (Yeah)\nThree or four times, I ain't tellin' no lies, I just run it up\nNever let a hard time humble us\nDouble up\nI ain't tellin' no lies, I just (Yeah)\nI ain't tellin' no lies, I just\nFive, four, three, two\nThat's time I got to you\nThat money, my dreams come true\nMy life in diamonds, who knew?\nWho knew?\nWho knew?\n\nI'd leave it behind if you let me\nIronic, I'd drown just to hold you down\nI'd jump off the ledge if you with me\nI bring you up, you just let me down\nLet me down (Uh, let me down)\n(Need my All Money In chain too)\nLet me down (Woah, let me down, look out, look out)\n\nIt's hard to catch what you can't see\nI grew up to be who I wanna be, so\nThe more niggas talk, I'ma shine\nMight've been way before its time\nPosted with my back against the wall\nLife is a bitch, but she mine\nThe rag six-deuce, yeah, it's mine\nThe Westside too, yeah, it's mine\nWhat you know about\nYour poster on the wall at the dealership?\nLeave her in the bed, legs tremblin'\nGettin' banged on for your Pendletons\nWhat you know about\nYour response be the reason you exist?\nLucky I ain't get caught up in the twist\nYoung nigga, blue pager on my hip, so\nAs the champagne spill\nAnd the car accelerate and the beat gon' cry\nI be goin' to the bank at least three, four times\nGetting handshakes from the branch managers\nWe keep doing fly shit when the cameras cut\nDouble up (Yeah)\nThree or four times, I ain't tellin' no lies, I just run it up\nNever let a hard time humble us\nDouble up\nI ain't tellin' no lies, I just (Yeah)\nI ain't tellin' no lies, I just\nFive, four, three, two\nThat's time I got to you\nThat money, my dreams come true\nMy life in diamonds, who knew?\nWho knew?\nWho knew?\n\nI'd leave it behind if you let me\nIronic, I'd drown just to hold you down\nI'd jump off the ledge if you with me\nI bring you up, you just let me down\nLet me down (Let me down)\nLet me down (Let me down, look out, look out)"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsRacks in the Middle Lyrics\n(Hit-Boy)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\n(TrapAdix)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, I was ridin' \u2019round in the V-12 with the racks in the middle\nI was ridin' 'round in the V-12 with the racks in the middle\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nAy\n\nI was riding \u2019round in the V-12 with the racks in the middle\nHad to pray to almighty God they let my dog out the kennel\nWhen you get it straight up out the mud, you can't imagine this shit\nI been pullin' up in the drop tops with the baddest bitches\nYoung nigga been focused on my check (Mhmmhm)\nGot a new coupe wrapped around my neck (Mhmmhm)\nTryna put the water on my Patek (Mhmmhm)\nI got killers to the left of me (Mhmmhm)\n\nWe was lurking on 'em, ain't show no mercy on 'em\nWe was goin' back to back, we put a curfew on 'em\nIt was dark clouds on us, but that was perfect for us\nWe know you always crash and burn, but it was working for us\nLimo tint the V-12, double check the details\nGotta cross my T\u2019s and dot my I\u2019s or I can't sleep well\nMillions off of retail\nOnce again, I prevail\nKnew that shit was over from the day I dropped my presale\nHold up, let the beat build\nSee me in the streets still\nI been fightin\u2019 battles up a steep hill\nThey gave my road dog twelve, it was a sweet deal\nAnd I been ridin' solo tryna rebuild\nLook\nYou might also like\nI was riding 'round in the V-12 with the racks in the middle\nHad to pray to almighty God they let my dog out the kennel\nWhen you get it straight up out the mud, you can't imagine this shit\nI been pullin\u2019 up in the drop tops with the baddest bitches\nYoung nigga been focused on my check (Mhmmhm)\nGot a new coupe wrapped around my neck (Mhmmhm)\nTryna put the water on my Patek (Mhmmhm)\nI got killers to the left of me (Mhmmhm)\n\nLook, under no condition would you ever catch me slippin'\nMotorcaded shooters plus the Maybach chauffeur driven\nIf they catch me wit' it, gon' send me off to prison\nJudge ain't sympathizin', court don't show forgiveness\nEngine in the Lambo drownin' out the music\nSilk Dior with the flowers, five gold Cubans\nChampagne while I shop, hope I splurge foolish\nClosin' Escrow twice this month, both commercial units\nDamn, I wish my nigga Fatts was here\nHow you die thirty somethin' after banging all them years?\nGrammy-nominated, in the sauna sheddin' tears\nAll this money, power, fame and I can't make you reappear\nBut I don't wipe 'em though\nWe just embrace the only life we know\nIf it was me, I would tell you, \"Nigga, live your life and grow\"\nI'd tell you, \"Finish what we started, reach them heights, you know?\nAnd gas the V-12 'til the pipe in smoke\"\nI was ridin' 'round in the V-12 with the racks in the middle\nHad to pray to almighty God they let my dog out the kennel\nWhen you get it straight up out the mud, you can't imagine this shit\nI been pullin' up in the drop tops with the baddest bitches\nYoung nigga been focused on my check (Mhmmhm)\nGot a new coupe wrapped around my neck (Mhmmhm)\nTryna put the water on my Patek (Mhmmhm)\nI got killers to the left of me (Mhmmhm)\n\nAnother million dollar bail, that's just some regular shit\nSee my granny on a jet, some shit I'll never forget\nNext day we flew to Vegas, with my Puma connects\nWe break bread, we ain't new to success\nBleed music, invest, enterprise, take lucrative steps\nCold game, but I knew it was Chess\nAs a youth in the set\nLearn the game, you a student at best\nBut it's a couple things you can expect\nLook, just like money know money, nigga, shooters respect\nOther shooters we was both, don't want my crew on your neck\nI'm on the freeway in a drop, it got me losing my breath\nI do the dash with the blues on the deck\n\nMhmmhm\nMhmmhm\nMhmmhm\nMhmmhm\nMhmmhm"}
{"text":"Look, my nigga this is dedication, this is anti-hesitation\nThis a real nigga celebration\nThis a Dime Blocc declaration\n59th and 5th Ave, granny house with vanilla wafers\nThis the remedy, the separation\n2Pac of my generation, blue pill in the fuckin' Matrix\nRed rose in the gray pavement\nYoung black nigga trapped and he can't change it\nKnow he a genius, he just can't claim it\n'Cause they left him no platforms to explain it\nHe frustrated so he get faded\nBut deep down inside he know you can't fade him\nHow long should I stay dedicated?\nHow long 'til opportunity meet preparation?\nI need some real nigga reparations\n'Fore I run up in your bank just for recreation\n\nDedication, hard work plus patience\nThe sum of all my sacrifice, I'm done waitin'\nI'm done waitin', told you that I wasn't playin'\nNow you hear what I been sayin'\nDedication\nIt's dedication, look\nYou might also like\nI spent my whole life thinkin' out the box\nBoxin' homies three-on-one, got DP'ed but I ain't drop\nChirp on me, here I come, brrt, spin around the block\nThey blurped on me, said I ran a stop sign but that's a lie\nI spent my whole life starin' at the stage\nPlayin' Sega, daddy smokin' sherm, mama playin' spades\nCatchin' vapors, grandma said I'd get some Jordans for my grades\nThat's my baby, when she died my heart broke a hundred ways\nI spent my whole life tryna make it, tryna chase it\nThe cycle of a black man divided, tryna break it\nYou take a loss? Shit, don't cry about it, just embrace it\nMinor setback for major comeback, that's my favorite\nMy nigga L said, \"You do a song with Nip, K. Dot, he a better Crip\"\nI said, \"He a man first, you hear the words out his lips\nAbout flourishing from the streets to black businesses?\"\nLevel four, yard livin', given to false imprisonment\nListen close, my nigga\nIt's bigger than deuces and fours, my nigga\nSince elementary we close, my nigga, yeah, straight like that\nI give you the game, go back to the turf and give it right back\nFor generations we been dealt bad hands with bad plans\nProve your dedication by hoppin' out Grand Am's\nI'm at the premiere politickin' with Top, Nip, and Snoop\nDamn, Pac watchin' the way we grew, from dedication\nIf it ain't congratulate then it look like hate\nIf it ain't congratulate then it look like what, Nipsey?\nHol' up\n\nLook\nThis ain't entertainment, it's for niggas on the slave ship\nThese songs just the spirituals I swam against them waves with\nEnded up on shore to they amazement\nNow I hope the example I set's not contagious\nLock us behind gates but can't tame us\nUsed to be, \"Stay safe,\" now it's, \"Stay dangerous\"\n'Cause ain't no point in playin' defense, nigga\nThat's why I dove off the deep end, nigga, without a life jacket\nCouple mil', tour the world, dawg, my life crackin'\nCook the books, bring it back so it's no taxes\nRoyalties, publishing, plus I own masters\nI'll be damned if I slave for some white crackers\nI was mappin' this out, I hit the heist backwards\nHoppin' out the eighty-five in Reebok Classics\nRan a couple marathons just to get established\nTo make it happen, you got to have it\n\nDedication, hard work plus patience\nThe sum of all my sacrifice, I'm done waitin'\nI'm done waitin', told you that I wasn't playin'\nNow you hear what I been sayin'\nDedication\nIt's dedication"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsHussle & Motivate Lyrics\nPull up in motorcades, I got a show today\nThis all I'm tryna do, hustle and motivate\nChoppers a throwaway, hustle the Hova way\nThat's why they follow me, huh? They think I know the way\n'Cause I took control of things, ballin' the solo way\nAnd if you pattern my trend, I make you my protege\nSlauson Ave soldier raised, niggas don't know them days\nTake you in back of the buildings, make you expose your age\nTake you across the tracks, make you explode a face\nNow you official now, but you got a soul to save\nI just been cookin' that new, I'm 'bout to drop in a few\nThink if I call it the great, the people gon' call it the truth\nAin't really trip on the credit, I just paid all of my dues\nI just respected the game, now my name all in the news\nTrippin' on all of my moves, quote me on this, got a lot more to prove\nRemember I came in this bitch fresh out the county with nothin' to lose\n\nAnd I don't do this for nothin', nah, from the ground up, yeah\nBut I don't do this shit for nothin', no, no, not at all, yeah\nMy mama need rent, ma need rent, yeah, she do, aw yeah\nSo I don't do this shit for nothin', no, not at all, all\nI told her I got it, oh, yeah\nSo I don't do this shit for nothin', not at all, from the ground up\nHustle and motivate (Woo)\nYou might also like\nBack in this bitch like I never left\nStand for some shit that you never rep\nPassing through stages in life\nThrough the ups and the downs like it's all just another test\nLive by the rules like a fuckin' ref\nI got respect in a hundred sets\nToo many chains, need another chest\nPlayin' no games if it wasn't chess\nCut from that cloth that you couldn't stretch\nCut from that circle you couldn't test\nHeavily pressured and under stress\nEven though niggas ain't show it, we was a mess\nHonest attempt, play him to the left\nJudge a young nigga by they address\nLeft us no option, what they expect?\nOnly thing we knew for sure was to bang the set\nFuck livin' basic, I'm takin' risks\nFuck what they sayin', I'm sayin' this\nDon't waste your time, it don't make you rich\nIt don't mean nothin', so fuck 'em, let's make a grip\nDouble up, triple up, make it six\nBallin' so hard, you could pay a bitch\nLead to the lake if they wanna fish\nMake sure them niggas around you stick to the script\nThis should be written in stone\nYou should come visit my zone\nDon't take my word, double-check all of my flows\nAsk 'em how Hussle got on\nBut fuck what you heard\nThis is for who walked down that road\nSold everything but they soul\nStraight off the curb, real niggas rich as you nerds\nAddressed to whom it may concern\nI don't do this for nothin', nah\nFrom the ground up, yeah\nBut I don't do this shit for nothin', no, no, not at all, yeah\nMy mama need rent, ma need rent, yeah, she do, aw yeah\nSo I don't do this shit for nothin', no, not at all, all\nI told her I got it, oh, yeah\nSo I don't do this shit for nothin', not at all, from the ground up\nHustle and motivate (Woo)\n\nHustle and motivate, hustle and motiv\u2014 (Cut the bass out)\nHustle and motiv\u2014, hustle and motivate (All Money In, nigga)\nHustle and motiv\u2014, hustle and motiv\u2014\nHustle and motiv\u2014, hustle and motivate\n(Victory Lap)"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsBlue Laces 2 Lyrics\nOh, aw, baby, it's been so long\nOh, aw, baby, it's been so long\n\nMogul and they know that, logo on my floor mat\nCourtside, Chamberlain throwback match my Rolex\nEverywhere I go, flex, valet park on some Loc shit\nWhole lot of smoke in that 'Rari, that thang potent\nBurnin' rubber, wearin' cameras, they was undercovers\nUnder pressure, made statements, turned on they brothers\nNever judge you, but the streets'll never love you\nI wonder what it come to in your brain for you to run to\nOnes that hate us, handcuff us and mace us\nCall us dumb niggas 'cause our culture is contagious\nThird-generation South Central gangbangers\nThat lived long enough to see it changin'\nThink it's time we make arrangements\nFinally wiggle out they mazes\nFind me out in different places\nI'm the spook by the door, this the infiltration\nDouble back dressed in blue laces\n\nOh, aw, baby, it's been so long\nOh, aw, baby, it's been so long\nYou might also like\nThey killed Dr. Sebi, he was teachin' health\nI fuck with Rick Ross 'cause he teachin' wealth\nDropped out of school, I'ma teach myself\nMade my first mil' on my own, I don't need your help\nAll black Tom Ford, it's a special evenin'\nCity council meetin', they got Hussle speakin'\nBillion-dollar project, 'bout to crack the cement\nSo what if our investments had become strategic?\nSummer 0-18, man, it's such a season\n'Bout to make my partners look like fuckin' geniuses\nWe was in the Regal, it was me and Steven\nWe done took a dream and turned it to a zenith\nAnything I wanted, everything I needed\nGotta pace yourself, it's all about your breathin'\nYou can have it all, it's all about your reasons\nI done took my name and carved it in the cement\n\nOh, aw, baby, it's been so long\nOh, aw, baby, it's been so long\n\nI flashback on that shootout at the beach, twenty deep\nYou tried to squeeze, your gun jammed and they released\nBlood on your tee, how many stains? I see three\nThe bitch started to panic, so I made her switch seats\nDrivin' now, police chopper, hear it flyin' now\nReally not too spooked, calmly asked me, \"Am I dyin' now?\"\nAll I know is keep you calm and collected\nCrackin' jokes like, \"Nigga, now you gon' be finally respected\"\nSee your blood leakin', got my foot on this gas\nTossed the 40, we pulled up to Daniel Free and see CRASH\nYou know the alibi, they started shootin', we was standin' by\nAin't see nothing but the flare from the talons fly\nI wasn't there, I was passin' by\nMatter fact, don't say shit, I'm just gon' drop you in the back and slide\nThat's your weed, all the cash is mine\nI'll take 'em both to the spot plus your phone 'til you back online\nOh, aw, baby, it's been so long\nOh, aw, baby, it's been so long"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsGrinding All My Life Lyrics\nAll my life, been grindin' all my life\nSacrificed, hustled, paid the price\nWant a slice, got to roll the dice\nThat's why all my life, I been grindin' all my life, look\nAll my life, been grindin' all my life (Yup)\nSacrificed, hustled, paid the price (Woah)\nWant a slice, got to roll the dice\nThat's why all my life, I been grindin' all my life, look\n\nI'm married to this game, that's who I made my wife\nSaid I'd die alone, I told that bitch she probably right\nOne thing that's for sure, not a stranger to this life\nGot a safe that's full of Franklins and a shoulder full of stripes (Ah)\nDon't know a nigga like myself\nI say self-made meanin' I designed myself\nCounty jail fades, you could pull my file yourself\nSpot raid, swallow rocks, I'm gettin' high myself\nLook, and damn right, I like the life I built\nI'm from Westside, 60, shit, I might got killed\nStandin' so tall, they think I might got stilts\nLegendary baller like Mike, like Wilt\n'96 Impala, thug life on wheels\nUp against the walls, squabble at Fox Hills\nLike a motherfuckin' boss, ask me how I feel\nSuccessful street nigga touchin' them first mils (Woah)\nYou might also like\nAll my life, been grindin' all my life\nSacrificed, hustled, paid the price\nWant a slice, got to roll the dice\nThat's why all my life, I been grindin' all my life, look\nAll my life, been grindin' all my life (Yup)\nSacrificed, hustled, paid the price (Woah)\nWant a slice, got to roll the dice\nThat's why all my life, I been grindin' all my life, look\n\nI got everythin' I said I was gon' get, on my kid\nIn addition to that fact, I went legit, I'm the shit\nNow accordin' to the way that I'm positioned in this biz\nIt look like I'm just gon' keep on gettin' rich (Ah)\nKnow them Westside RSCs is us\nLAPD on my dick, I'ma squeeze and bust\nIf a rap nigga diss, Swiss cheese his bus\nAll this rap money, nigga, look, I need too much\nMoney, loyalty and love, in the dream we trust\nYou be switchin' up the players on your team too much\nTiny Cobby, that's my Loc, Young Supreme, what's up?\nAin't we travel 'round the world gettin' cream or what?\nAin't you get off on whoever Hussle seem to rush?\nLas Vegas, strip pop, yeah, you creamed them punks\nAfter all that lookin' tough, all he seen was stumps\n50 Cent and Mayweather fleed the scene with us\nTrue story\nAll my life, been grindin' all my life\nSacrificed, hustled, paid the price\nWant a slice, got to roll the dice\nThat's why all my life, I been grindin' all my life, look\nAll my life, been grindin' all my life (Yup)\nSacrificed, hustled, paid the price (Woah)\nWant a slice, got to roll the dice\nThat's why all my life, I been grindin' all my life, look"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsLast Time That I Checc\u2019d Lyrics\nLast time that I checked\nIt was five chains on my neck\nIt was no smut on my rep\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\nI was sellin' zones in the set (Zones up in the set)\nMake a quarter mil' no sweat\nLast time that I checked\nI'm the streets' voice out West\nLegendary, self-made progress\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\nFirst, you get the money, then respect\nThen the power and the hoes come next\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\n\nI been self-made from the dribble\nI was been sayin' I'ma kill em, look\nPlaying no games with you niggas\nPop clutch, switch lanes on you niggas, look\nI laid down the game for you niggas\nTaught you how to charge more than what they paid for you niggas\nOwn the whole thing for you niggas\nReinvest, double up, then explain for you niggas\nIt gotta be love, who run the city? It gotta be cuz\nThis for the pieces I took off the Monopoly board\nAnd y'all niggas' false claims, it gotta be fraud\nJust keep the hood up out your mouth or you gotta be charged\nI doubled up, tripled up, nigga, what?\nBanged on the whole game, I ain't give a fuck\nNobody trippin', handled business, got my digits up\nAnd when I drop, you know I'm 'bout to fuck the city up\nYou might also like\nLast time that I checked\nIt was five chains on my neck\nIt was no smut on my rep\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\nI was sellin' zones in the set (Zones up in the set)\nMake a quarter mil' no sweat\nLast time that I checked\nI'm the streets' voice out West\nLegendary, self-made progress\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\nFirst, you get the money, then respect\nThen the power and the hoes come next\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\n\nAnd I come through fly (Check), no cosign\nI ain't need radio to do mine, I done fine\nAnd I take my time (Check), and take my tribe\nEvery level that I crossed in this game like state lines\nIt was visionary, either I'm genius or you niggas scary\nMaybe it's both, and this balance I deliver daily\nFor every nigga in these streets tryna feed the babies\nThe single mamas working hard not to miss a payment\nAnd dirty money get washed on royalty statements\nBlack owners in this game of powerful racists\nYoung niggas in the set that's doing it makeshift\nOut the garage is how you end up in charge\nThat's how you end up in penthouses, end up in cars\nThat's how you start off a curb-server, end up a boss\nThat's how you win the whole thing and lift up a cigar\nWith sweat dripping down your face 'cause the mission was hard\nLast time that I checked\nIt was five chains on my neck\nIt was no smut on my rep\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\nI was sellin' zones in the set (Zones up in the set)\nMake a quarter mil' no sweat\nLast time that I checked\nI'm the streets' voice out West\nLegendary, self-made progress\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\nFirst, you get the money, then respect\nThen the power and the hoes come next (Uh-oh)\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\n\nI got the front end and the back\nWe on the way and that's a fact (Facts, nigga)\nThis real, this ain't rap\nWhere everybody wanna act pro-Black (They don't really wanna fuck with us)\nThe last lie you heard, this ain't that\nThis that I done made it out the gutter shit\nNip told you, \"Fuck the middleman,\" I told you, \"Fuck a bitch\"\nFuck wearing they clothes, I wear my own shit\nY'all can own y'all label, I own my own, bitch\nAyy, Nip, I remember all that game you throwed me\nDon't fuck around and get played by these label owners\nTalk that shit to these niggas, Adrien Broner\nBut secure the win, though, don't let that game fold you\n'Cause when it's game over, it's really game over\nAnd all they do is play the game 'til this game over\nAnd you be giving game like a big brother\nMission, never let 'em take it from us, no\nLast time that I checked\nIt was five chains on my neck\nIt was no smut on my rep\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\nI was sellin' zones in the set (Zones up in the set)\nMake a quarter mil' no sweat\nLast time that I checked\nI'm the streets' voice out West\nLegendary, self-made progress\nLast time that I checked (Checked)\nFirst, you get the money, then respect\nThen the power and the hoes come next\nLast time that I checked"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsFace the World Lyrics\n\nWhen all dreams seem to die\nThe summer's gone, the breeze stops blowing\nThe sun just leaves the sky\n\nYeah\nUh\nYeah, this your life, you can play with it\nYou make your bed, you gon' lay in it\nDo your thing, just be safe with it\nTriple bunks in the state prison\nBlue laces in my blue chucks\nI ain't never gave two fucks\nBET I chucked the hood up\nAsking if that nigga Nip hood, what\nLike I wouldn't take it to the back with you\nSame nigga walk the track with you\nSame nigga shot a strap with you\nSame nigga bought a sack with you\nNineteen touchin' two birds\nAlpinas off a few swerves\nGrey leather in my white Lincoln\nShit smellin' like a new purse\nTwo C's on my bitch shit\nMy money risin' like Bisquick\nSix words help you get this\nRich Rapper On Some Crip Shit\nI prayed for blessings as a young nigga\nNot to learn the hard lessons of a drug dealer\nTriple life with a gang enhancement\nThe judge triple white and he hate your blackness\nSlam the gavel with a racist passion\nGot you waitin' on appeals but your patience passin'\nAll you've got to offer is a fight\nIt's too late to run to Christ once you caught up in this life\nLook\nYou might also like\nSo face the world now or cry\nFace the world-\nSo face-\nFace the world-\n\nLook\nDon't cry tears, they don't fly here\nAnd if you don't die here, you supposed to fly lears\nNo wonder why these niggas 20 and got white hairs\nStressin' like they 40 and some change\nIt's lonely in this game, all my homies is in pain\nAnd brodie is the slang, but it don't mean he your brother\nIt don't mean you can trust him, it don't mean that he love you\nAnd we was raised wrong but we stayed strong\nAnd when we kept it real, we got faked on\nAnd when we showed up, we got flaked on\nWhile them niggas story's gettin' cake holmes\nI bet my life I'm a dice shaker\nElectric lights on a skyscraper\nIt's up and downs for a real nigga\nBut you'll be lame all your life, hater\nMac-10 in my black Benz\nShow me signals of betrayal, can't be back friends\nLong flights get my mind right\nVictory to me is when you spend your time right\nVictory to me is when you get your grind right\nVictory to me is when you get your moms right\nNiggas, got this shit twisted\nLike Jean-Michel Basquiat destroyed his pictures\nSelf-inflicted homicide, don't pull the trigger\nI feel like I got to tell you you got something to contribute\nRegardless what you into, regardless what you been through\nI feel like I got to tell you you got something to contribute\nSomething to contribute\nSo face the world now (Now)\nSo face the world, or\nSo face the world"}
{"text":"18 Contributors4 in the Mornin Lyrics\nIt's that 4 in the morning shit\n\nI'm off this Red Bull\nI got a head full\nA nigga stressed out, let's get this bed full\nSexual healing; so appealing\nYou a bad bitch, I'm a real nigga\nTell me that you love me\nI tell you the same\nThat's a fucking shame\nWe both runnin' game\nI just want your pleasure\nYou just want my pain\nI just want you all for me and you just want the same\nLet's take a flight; let's live this life\nLet's get a hotel, let's both spend a night\nI'm a busy nigga, you a busy girl\nIt's a fast life we liven' in this busy world\nWe in my fast car, you ain't no fast broad\nYou got yo' heart broke, he did yo' ass wrong\nPlus yo' dad gone, let me be yo' daddy\nI wanna see you happy we both come from broken families\nYou can tell the truth, I'mma tell it too\nWe gon' smoke this weed 'til they kick us out the room\nLike fuck it, that's life\nFuckin' tonight; we fuckin' right?\nYou fuckin' right\nI ain't goon' lie to you; I know I'm fly to you\nNah, fuck that girl I'm the sky to you\nOcean in the clouds; birds and the bees\nYour friends proud when they know that you fuckin' with me\nI got you poppin', I'll take you shoppin'\nAround the world; started on Slauson\nThat's real shit; real shit\nI know all my real bitches feel this\n4 in the morning, tell me that you want it\nBend you over, I got you moaning\nYou love this shit, you want this shit\nYou got this shit, no politics\nYou might also like\nSmoke something with you?\nIt's like we pouring' some more drink\nGet yours, I got mine\nThis that real shit\nSittin' on the top floor of the fly ass hotel drunk as fuck with a bad bitch\nMake you appreciate life\nNigga work hard you know\n7 days a week we do this shit\nYou should do it with me\nWhen I'm gone, shit play this\nI ain't trippin' on shit, ain't no rules in this\nFuck 'em all though\nHussle"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsYoung Nigga Lyrics\nStrippers in the club and my cup's half empty\nRide with my niggas 'cause my niggas understand me\nStill on Plan A, pussy niggas on Plan B\nRight now (Young rich nigga, young rich nigga)\nMotherfucker, let's go\n\nYeah, what could make a nigga wanna go and get it?\nSaid he want a Bimmer with the subs in it\nSaid he grew up in the house and it was love missin'\nSaid he grew up in the set, he keep his gun with him\nYoung nigga, young nigga (Let's go)\nYoung (Niggas), just a young nigga\nAnd he don't need a reason, he a young nigga (That's right)\nAnd you don't want your daughter and your sons with him\nYoung nigga, just a young nigga (Let's go)\nYoung nigga, just a young nigga\nProbably never understand us (Don't stop)\n'Til he pull up in a Phantom (Don't stop)\nWhen he pull up in a Phantom\nHe gon' have that shit blastin' (That's right)\nLike young nigga, just a young nigga\nYoung nigga, just a young nigga\nWhat they call you where you from, nigga? (Where you from, nigga?)\nIn my city, that was question number one, nigga (Number one, nigga)\nLookin' at the legend I become, nigga (Look at him)\nI can't help but feeling like I am the one, nigga (Your turn)\nRemember I was on the run, nigga (Let's go)\nCouple years before you had a son, nigga (Let's go)\nOpen up your doors and kept it one with me\nHeld a nigga down and that was love, nigga (Let's go)\nNobody wanna stand in front a judge, nigga (Yeah)\nMake you think of better days like when you was winnin'\nStandin' on the couches in the club with us\n(We all in here, you see it motherfucker, young nigga)\nThen I got my shot, I had to run with it\nOut the gate, lost count\nMany days in the studio we slaved, but this shit we gotta say\nStaring into space as you fishing for a phrase\nUninspired, in your mind, still, it's all a paper chase\nFirst you overdedicate, then you notice that you great\nAnd you been the whole time, and it slap you in your face\nThen you stack it in your safe, got it crackin', it was fate\nNow you the definition, nigga, laughin' to the bank\nI'm a master of my fate\nPlus I'm the type of nigga own the masters to my tapes\nIn Nevada for the day\nI caught a flight from Philly, we just sold out TLA\nFresh up off of stage on my way to B of A\nAMB, we LA, tryna eat, we the way\nLook, young Nipsey the great\nNever taught how to drink, I just lead to the lake\nIt's eighty-something degrees in LA (Yeah)\nFuck it, time to put some jet-skis on the lake\nLook, I got a team in my bank\nI don't even need an ID at my bank\nThis used to be a dream we would chase\nI know J. Stone and Cobby Supreme could relate\nI know the whole team could relate\nI know Evan McKenzie and Bron Lees could relate\nCornell, Saddam, Adam Andebrhan\nSteven Donelson and Blacc Sam been on this marathon\nBallin' since my brother used to hustle out the Vons\nCouple hundred thousand up, he took a shovel to the lawn\nNo exaggeration for the content of my songs\nWhen he went to dig it up, shit, a hundred somethin' gone\nMolded, you can ask moms\nHad to plug in blow dryers for the ones that we could wash (Let's go)\nSalvaged a little bit, young rich nigga shit\nPressure on your shoulder, how you gon' deal with it? (Come on)\nSay it's uncomfortable (That's right), when you transitionin' (Let's go)\nBut it's so beautiful (Don't stop), when you get rich in it (Don't stop)\nWhen you start killin' shit (Elevate) and they all witness it (Keep risin')\nMoney grow faster (Keep goin'), than niggas can spend the shit (Keep showin')\nOpen more businesses (Get down), with you and your niggas, they (Let's go)\nWatchin' your vision (Don't stop), and being more generous (Get money)\nFuck a Ford dealership (Yeah, c'mon), we up in Forbes (Number one, motherfuckers, every year)\nWatching and they wishin' that it wasn't yours (Let's go)\nI forgive you, I remember I was poor (Not no more)\nPlus I ain't in the way of what you reachin' for (Yeah)\nYou gotta play the game, you gotta read the score (Read the score)\nSee, I'ma do the same and pop the clutch of foreign (Let's go)\nTold me if I want it, gotta hustle for it (Get it, get it)\nOnly difference now, the money more mature\nYou might also like\nYoung nigga\nYoung nigga, young nigga\nYoung nigga, young nigga\nGet your money, young nigga\nGet your money, young nigga\nYoung nigga, young nigga\nGet the money, young\nGet the money, young\nGet the money, young nigga\nGet the money, young nigga\nKeep God first though, take that"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsCrenshaw and Slauson (True Story) LyricsPART 1\nLook, relate to you, I can't if you's a fake nigga\nWhere Level 4 in the state what your mistakes get you\nRap niggas, they just wanna double date with you\nTwitpic and show these hoes that they affiliate with you\nLabels used to treatin' rappers like a slave, nigga\nStarvin' artist, \"Just be happy with your fame, nigga\"\nShit changed, now it's such a different game\nAll the niggas like myself is controlling everything\nIf you, pay attention see exactly what I mean\nFuck the middleman, I said that in 2003\nWas 18, White Lincoln, chrome feet\nBlack .40 was my pillow, every night I go to sleep\nGrown niggas treat me like they OG\nHoldin' on to every word that the tiny loc speaks\nI had a vision that nobody else could see\nSold my shit to D-Mac, a little less than 10 Gs\nBrought my grocery bag of cash back to Blacc Sam\nHe matched a nigga, next day we went to Sam Ash\nWe bought a Pro Tools and a microphone\nStudio was far from plush but them lights was on\nCouple hunned thousand stashed at my mama's home\nReal estate in Atlanta, but ain't nobody know\nMac 11s in the safe, hidden in the floor\nMy bro did it like nobody that I've ever known\nScreens on every wall with 16 camera angles\nDouble pane bulletproof glass pushin' past the haters\nCuban links and Rolexes, fold a check from Epic\nThis industry ain't gotta like us but they gon' respect it\nBuilt the label up from money we was savin' up\nNo details 'til the statute of limitations up\nCouple niggas got flipped tryna play with us\nThe demonstrations speak loud so I ain't sayin' much\nWas a charismatic nigga, I don't play as much\n'Cause life is real when you live it in a place like us\nSchool pictures crackin' smiles, now my face is stuck\nShell shocked to see how much they really hated us\nCouldn't keep a kind heart, get yo' hatred up\nStreets smarts, nigga, get yo information up\nWatching Belly, smokin blunts, take Jamaican puffs\nOne day I'ma have a house and car like Jamaican cuz\nCredits roll, back to stress pound breakin' up\nHad to fight before we hustled, and it made us tough\nEarly '90s, neighbor's rooster used to wake us up\nMama had a bucket and a shack but we ain't make a fuss\nBlue Cutlass, no license, .380 tucked\n'96 Caprice 'Bolt Da Fatts' was savin up\nThey gettin' packed out if niggas try fade with us\nCrenshaw and Slauson, True Story, Zo, play the drums\nYou might also likePART 2\nI got to this paper, no industry favors\nSpeaking to they soul, so they tell me I'm they favorite\nBeen through it myself, yeah, I know how it make you\nNever let 'em judge you cuz they ain't you\nI could tell a long story or just say I'm grateful\nI could tell a gang of reasons or just say I'm faithful\nI can sell a million records or just mixtape it\nThey don't really give a fuck long as I just keep pacing\nQuiet for a year, gave no explanation\nNow I'm 'bout to drop, I got 'em on that Proud 2 Pay shit\nHalf of a million cash, he gon' offer me a label\nTold him that I need to own it, so I'm cool, kept it gangster\nHolla back, real niggas what you calling that\nYou see the game fucked up, look, what part is that\nThey compare where I'm at to where I started at\nThey put me in the Getty, I'm a artifact\nThey can't never hang me on the wall, though\nWe presidents, nigga, we push buttons\nThe rest of y'all just react\nVictory Lap, nigga, this Marathon\nStill don't stop though\nCount me up, count me up\nI'm in this shit, you niggas is out as fuck\nI'm used to people doubting I'd amount to much\nI thrive off the challenge, I'm a childish fuck\nI love toys so I'm by the buck\nI hate to lose so I play too rough\nI speak my mind and say I say too much\nMinus the hip-hop, cops say I don't say enough\nI know they listening to my raps\nWhile I'm out running these laps\nTryna make my paper stack\nIt's like this and like that\nI think I'm KRS\nI think I'm dead prez\nI think I'm 2Pac, nigga, I need some fuckin' meds\nI think I'm Eminem, I'm going crazy\nShoot in front of the shop, Nas & AZ\nI never planned to make it to a old nigga\nPlant the bag, 560 off a zone, nigga\nDip my Giovanni feet in chrome nigga\nDrop them bitches on Pirellis, hit the road with 'em\nI should get the cover of the Rolling Stone, nigga\nI should perform at the Old Republic or Rome, nigga\nI'm not a rapper or a poet, I'm a poem, nigga\nAin't it amazing how I'm standing on my own, nigga?\nAlways pull up in foreign that's never loaned, nigga\nAlways speaking my music straight from my soul, nigga\nMy business partners Jewish but I'm all nigga\nStill ghetto that ain't wrong is it?\nWay I see it long as I ball, nigga\nI'm a California don, nigga\nHundred thousand on my car, nigga\nYou know very well who you are, nigga\nPART 3\nI been that nigga before the fame happened\nThat tell them hoes go get my name tatted\nI rock a Roley 'cause my game classic\nAnd repped L.A. before it came back in\nI know y'all see me in my lane smashin'\nI know y'all hate me with a strange passion\nI made examples out y'all lame asses\nI love my life, y'all could hate that shit\nAll the smart money got they bets on me\nAnd all them real niggas wish the best for me\nAll these bad bitches got some sex for me\nShout out them bad bitches getting dressed for me\nThey down to stand in line 'cause it's well worth it\nPull up to my shows in Chanel purses\nThey jeans fit the worst but they smell perfect\nNever argue with they niggas but they yell verses\nAy, I'm true to this game\nGimme that pussy 'fore she tell me her name\nAy, I'm true to this game\nAll Money In No Money Out on my chain\nAy, I'm true to this game\nNo guarantees, you gotta live for today\nAy, I'm true to this game\nDo it big 'til they remember your name\nHustle\n\nAy, I'm true to this game\nGimme that pussy 'fore she tell me her name\nAy, I'm true to this game\nAll Money In No Money Out on my chain\nAy, I'm true to this game\nNo guarantees, you gotta live for today\nAy, I'm true to this game\nDo it big 'til they remember your name\nHustle\nWe still them same niggas that we used to be\nBlacc Sam in that sedan in the coupe is me\nHundred thousand for the car so the roof was free\nWhile I'm in it flashback on how it used to be\nWildin', nigga, can't relax, it was the youth of me\nThat make a smoker buy the bullets for a shooting spree\nFound myself, same time family losing me\nBut all that violence from the past is what produced a G\nAll the real L.A. niggas know the truth is me\nNo hotline, homie, I could tell your future free\nGet on your Marathon 'til you bruise ya feet\nOr run the streets 'til the reverend write ya eulogy\nFishbowl in the six with all my jewelry\n'Cause I heard my haters is supposed to be shooting me\nI'll never let a broke bitch influence me\nSlauson Ave, getting money and the proof is me\n\n'Cause I tell everybody all the time\nOwn your masters, own your catalog\nCan't none of these niggas say they own their masters and their catalog\nIf they do, they're lying to you\nOr they gon' say own some of it or they gon' buy it back\nAll that is bullshit\nJust had to get our little thing together\nWe picked up distribution\nNow we're strong, now we're legit, naw'mean\nAnd we're a force to be reckoned with right now, word up"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsRap Niggas Lyrics\nLook, I ain't nothin' like you fuckin' rap niggas\nHussle Man a shooter, that's a fact, nigga\nThirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga\nSpend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga\nLook, I ain't nothin' like you fuckin' rap niggas\nHussle Man a shooter, that's a fact, nigga\nThirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga\nSpend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga\n\nV12 in the valet black on black, nigga\nEse in the valley do my tats, nigga\nWhite boy in Manhattan pay my tax, nigga\nDrive out to the Hamptons to relax, nigga\nI stopped smokin' weed, then I relapsed, nigga\nTraveled 'round the world and I came back, nigga\nWorth a couple a million, that's a fact, nigga\nBut I am nothin' like you fuckin' rap niggas\nI own all the rights to all my raps, nigga\nGerman plates with sheepskin on my mats, nigga\nMurder rate increasin' if I snap, nigga\nAin't no hangin' out, we tape y'all off and double back, nigga\nOpen trust accounts, deposit racks, nigga\nMillion-dollar life insurance on my flesh, nigga\nBimmers, Benz, Bentleys, or a Lex, nigga\nFerraris and them Lambos, that's what's next, nigga\nYou might also like\nLook, I ain't nothin' like you fuckin' rap niggas\nHussle Man a shooter, that's a fact, nigga\nThirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga\nSpend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga\nLook, I ain't nothin' like you fuckin' rap niggas\nHussle Man a shooter, that's a fact, nigga\nThirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga (Ayy)\nSpend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga\n\nAMG Mercedes, back to back, nigga\nChopper to his face, now that's a wrap, nigga\nThe streets talkin', that's a rat, nigga\nYour P.O. call you up, look, that's a trap, nigga\nBeat that case, that was that, nigga\nTold the world, \"Look, I'm back,\" nigga\nSigned my deal, then I'm crack, nigga\nThey folded, so I left, nigga\nCan't no motherfucker tell me shit, nigga\nWe the No Limit of the West, nigga\nPercy Miller at his best, nigga\nJigga with the Rollie and the vest, nigga\nAcne jeans and Giusepps, nigga\nServin' fiends off the steps, nigga\nMurder sprees for the set, nigga\nAll facts, this ain't no motherfuckin' threat, nigga\nLook, I ain't nothin' like you fuckin' rap niggas\nHussle Man a shooter, that's a fact, nigga\nThirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga\nSpend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga\nLook, I ain't nothin' like you fuckin' rap niggas\nHussle Man a shooter, that's a fact, nigga\nThirty-two extendos in my MAC, nigga\nSpend a thousand on some t-shirts up at Saks, nigga"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsKiller Lyrics\nLook\nI let the beat bang I don't claim colors\nHonestly, the honesty is why the game love us\nMy women either centerfolds or on the main covers\nStunt so hard I make these niggas hate summer\nAnd pray for winter but when it's winter time\nI'm still waitin' on these niggas at the finish line\nWe just took our first trip to the Amalfi coast\nCouple days on the beach then it's adios (Killa)\nJust look at what I done alone\nYou will swear we planted trees the way the money's grown\nWe been busy like some bees no honeycomb\nAnd you could prolly feel the breeze when the money's blown\nPardon my towel and flip flop phase\nI'll never be the reason that a bitch got paid\nEven when I'm not functioning in tip-top shape\nI could bench as much as hip hop weighs\nDrizzy\n\nUh\nI'm tryna bring it home\nEven if I gotta do it on my own\nI'm a muhfuckin' killa, killa, killa, killa\nUh\nAnd I'm the one to blame\nNow that I'm around shit will never be the same\nI'm a killa, killa, killa, killa, nigga\nYou might also like\nListen, look\nBefore rap my last name was my lifestyle\nAnd when I visualize success it look like right now\nWhat was once gray skies is now white clouds\nAnd I did it with the ones that y'all said was not the right crowd\nFollow my steps and you'll see what I'm 'bout\nI keep my money coming in and never going out\nFrom Chuck Taylors on the pavement with the blamma's out\nThen I hit the league straight out the streets with no talent scout\nAnd now my face bring the cameras out\nThat young nigga these industry bitches yap about\nYou know the one the cops bump you up and ask about\nAll because I took my wildest dreams and then mapped 'em out\nI go for mine like it's overtime\nMe and my niggas had to struggle so we over shined\nBeen fucked bitches I been on my grind\n'Cause on a mission, your worst enemy is idle time\nHussle\n\nI'm tryna bring it home\nEven if I gotta do it on my own\nI'm a muhfuckin' killa, killa, killa, killa\nUh\nAnd I'm the one to blame\nNow that I'm around shit will never be the same\nI'm a killa, killa, killa, killa, nigga"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsStatus Symbol Lyrics\nYuh\nMe? I'm gettin' back rubs from these leather seats (Yuh)\nNegotiatin' equity positions you'll never be (Nigga)\nRap sheet full of felonies (Yeah)\nStatus symbol on my set of keys, they say I was sellin' dreams\nBack to the brick wall, I'm inhalin' trees\nVisualizin' hella cheese, you can smell the weed\nNiggas doubt, pessimism ain't affectin' me\nFuel to the fire, took it higher than they ever see\nFrequent flight seat like seven seas\nShoppin' spree spent about eleven Gs\nEyes bloodshot, I don't ever sleep\nMy niggas act on instinct, we don't ever think\nWhen confronted with a problem, we don't ever flee\nWe connected at the bottom like the letter V\nSo accustomed to the pop, we don't even blink\nWhen them shots go off, get the Glock, show off\nYellow tape a nigga, he grew up to hate a nigga\nNothin' major, nigga, just a demonstration, nigga\nWithin the matrix, nigga, I drew illustrations with him\nWords, that is, for sure, that is\nLook, that nigga got his off the curb, that is\nSo how the fuck is niggas so concerned with his?\nI be baffled by the fact when niggas burn their bridge\nAnd try to double back like, \"What the fuck is that?\"\nLike, Niggas want this rap life way too bad\nYou might also like\nWe ain't gotta worry no more, we'll be just fine\nAnd we ain't finna wait no more, so don't waste my time\nRemember when we had no way, no way\nBut we'll be okay for now\nWe'll be okay for now\nAnd here on out\n\nNow you up, huh? Make it hard to trust, huh?\nGot you fucked up sayin' it was luck, huh?\nPulling up, huh? Limo tinted trucks, huh?\nOpen trust, huh? Then you fill 'em up, huh?\nEvery time a nigga drop, it's real as fuck, huh?\nEvery time you hit the road, you fill 'em up, huh?\nWhole city know that you became the one, huh?\nThey seen it from the jump, huh?\nThe pressure weigh a ton, huh?\nEspecially where you come from\nEvery night br-br-br-brap bump bump\nHeavy price but it's just the cloth you cut from\nIt's alright, it's just life if you want one\nLearn to hold yourself down with a big gun\nAll these niggas playin' tough, you gon' chip one\nFor these dollars, a decade, you a risk one\nFuck it though, 'cause when you flat broke, you ain't nothin', bro\nSeen a gang of rich niggas get comfortable\nThen lookin' at their watch like, \"Where the fuck it go?\"\nThrough my eyes I learned lessons like\nTime is of the essence and my grind got obsessive\nThen my mind got restless\nPut myself in the game but batteries sold separate\nQuestion, since when do real niggas come second?\nSo I kicked the door down, gettin' more now\nNigga need at least like thirty for the show now\nWoah now, realest out of So Cal\nBaby wanna fuck I'm like, \"Mmm, slow down\"\nI'm eatin' cheese eggs in my hotel\nHussle sold out, nigga, retail and wholesale\nMe ballin' hurt your feelings? Oh well\nAll money in, I pull coattails, nigga\nWe ain't gotta worry no more, we'll be just fine\nAnd we ain't finna wait no more, so don't waste my time\nRemember when we had no way, no way\nBut we'll be okay for now\nWe'll be okay for now\nAnd here on out\n\nHey Nip\nWhat up?\nLet me get a flick wit'chu\nCome on, lil' bro\nGot your camera?\nYup, here it go right here\nAight bet, here you go, homie\nHey, Nip, let me spit somethin' for you real quick\nOh, you rap, nigga?\nYeah, you know how I get down\nLet me hear somethin', bro, go 'head\n\nLook, I was stuck in these streets tryna make it out\nI seen most my homies change, man, they fakin' out\nAnd my brother really gone, straight taken out\nSo a death spares a life and it really play about\nCadi finna make it, oh yeah, niggas, that's without a doubt\nHoe don't interfere 'cause all they wanna do is run they mouth\nI been out chear really tryna chase the paper route\nFuck wit' me, I'll knock you out\nTalkin' Manny Pacquiao\nI really do this music so that I could see my mama smile\nI'm tryna go major but I know that it's gon' take a while\nI don't even know if I'ma live to even see a child\n'Cause niggas in the streets with a gun and they be goin' wild\nCadi super hot, all you other niggas stuck on mild\nIn this Audi smashin', man, this jug got four-thousand miles\nI ain't never stoppin' 'til my money stacked up in a pile\nOn TV, haters watchin' me, I hope that y'all could see me now\nEveryday I wake up, I just thank God for another day\nDamn, I really can't believe they killed my fuckin' nigga Tay\nI remember goin' to school, chillin' up, smokin' eights\nAnd now my nigga gone and his body gon' be on display\nThese gangbanger's serious, shit got me curious\nLosin' homies to bullshit, this shit got me furious\nMy brother gone too, he ain't never comin' back\nHow you think that make me feel, nigga? All I do is rap\nAnytime I spend money, all I do is make it back\nAnytime I'm in these streets, all I do is watch my back\n'Cause niggas'll wet you up, chicks'll set you up\nYou think your days ones with you but niggas be switchin' up\nI seen it all\nI seen homies go before my eyes\nSome homies'll make it, some don't come out alive\nMy mom prayin' and she hopin' that her youngest survive\n'Cause she know that I'm gettin' high\nBills steady, rollin' pie\nWasn't no father in my life, big brother in the sky\nEvery night I'm in my room and I sit and ask, \"Why?\"\nBitches choosin' on a nigga so you know I still reply\nAnd they speakin' on my name so I know I'm that guy\nYeah, that's right, my nigga\nHow old are you, bro?\nMan, I'm sixteen, man\nSixteen? That's right\nWhat they call you, nigga?\nLilCadiPGE\nFuck wit' me"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisI Do This Lyrics\nLongwinded, running through this life like it was mine\nNever settling, but setting every goal high\nOne thousand burpees on the path to my own destruction or success\nBut what is a mistake without the lesson?\nSee, the best teacher in life is your own experience\nNone of us know who we are until we fail\nThey say every man is defined by his reaction to any given situation\nWell who would you want to define you?\nSomeone else or yourself?\nWhatever you do, homie, give your heart to it\nAnd stay strong\n\nLot of niggas fail, but I won't\nLot of niggas fold, but I cope\nLot of niggas gone, but I'm home\nLot of niggas off, but I'm on\nLot of niggas lost on this road\nCouple niggas gave up their goal\nGang of niggas traded their soul\nBut me, I'm standin' on ten toes\nLookin' out my Benz window\nWonder where'd my friends all go\nScared to give my heart to this girl\nParanoid she gon' leave if my ends get low\nNo one in this game to be played\nBut I'm knowin' that this game to be changed\nI should be afraid of afraid\nI'm just tryna live up to the meanin' of my name\nI'm just tryna live up to them niggas in my gang\nI'm just tryna live up to my moment on the stage\nI'm just tryna live up to the truth in my pain\nAnd the power that they gave me in the youth of today\nI put a coupe in the safe\nAnd I shoot from the waist\nMy time is money\nAnd I ain't got a second for you flukes and you fakes\nYou might also like\nI do this shit for my woes\nI do this shit for my niggas\nI do this shit for my bros\nI do this shit for my niggas, yeah\nI do this shit for my woes\nI do this shit for my niggas\nI do this shit for my bros\nI do this shit for my niggas, yeah\n\nWe've been takin' trips more than often this month\nWhen I call they pullin' up, 2, 3 stream up\nYou ain't do enough for the clan, how I feel\nIf I gotta shut it down, how the film gon' feel?\nI was just broke, ran through a quarter mil'\nCan't believe I'm still here, shed tears for the dead\nCubes in my 30 chain, she don't even wear\nCall my little brother up, you know we took it there\nReal nigga tellin' on me, only thing that I fear\nYeah, only thing that I fear\nReal nigga tellin' on me, only thing that I fear\nLotta niggas queers, lotta dope in the air\nLotta niggas queers, lotta dope in the air\nStyrofoam contaminated, got a nigga meditatin'\nYeah, I said it got a nigga meditatin'\nI can't even eat 'less I'm medicated\nI can't even sleep 'less I'm medicated\nI've been on my feet chasin' check after check\nNigga, week after week, 'cause I'm dedicated\nI can't even eat 'less I'm medicated\nI can't even sleep 'less I'm medicated\nI've been on my feet chasin' check after check\nNigga, week after week, 'cause I'm dedicated\nI do this shit for my woes\nI do this shit for my niggas\nI do this shit for my bros\nI do this shit for my niggas, yeah\n\nThugger!\nI do this shit for my mothafuckin' niggas\nI'm gettin' this money, yeah\nI do this shit for them Benjis\nLike you ain't real or hood, no Tommy gun\nI do this shit for my niggas\nPull up with Barettas, nigga, and just go BRRRT\nI do this shit for them bad bitches\nWearin' red bottoms and Jimmy Choo\nI do this shit for my daughter\nI do this shit for my mama\nI do this shit for my son, ayy, ayy\nI do this shit for my brother\nI do this shit for the world\nI do this shit for the globe\nI do this shit right here, nigga\nAnd I do that shit, why y'all fuck with the boy?\nI'm wet like a boat\nI'm lovin' my chickens\nI smoke and I choke\nI do it for my brothers\nI do it for my folk\nGot 40s on me, yeah, yeah, yeah\nNigga shoot from the toes\nAll the way up to the top\nAll the way up to the top"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsI Don\u2019t Give a Fucc Lyrics\nI don't give a fuck\nRide with my burner and my beat turned up\nAC blowin' and my window down\nChunkin' up my hood when I hit yo town\nI don't give a fuck\nRide with my burner and my beat turned up\nAC blowin' and my window down\nChunkin' up my hood when I hit yo town\n\nLook, my mama wanna know why I'm bangin'\nShe told me I'ma lose my life\nI ain't trippin', I'm a crip and I'ma do it right\n'Fore I run from a nigga I'll lose the fight\nI gotta hustle, Mama, I'ma move the white\nIf I died and came back I'd do it twice\nBrainwashed by the block, it consumed my life\nCool nigga but a killa when the mood is right\nBullets have the dogs howlin' at the moon at night\nMama, it's cold outside, ain't no hope outside\nCouple niggas gettin' money, most is broke outside\nRocks in the house, sellin' dope outside\nReminiscin' on my niggas that got smoked outside\nSuckas in the house when them locs outside\nHustla gotta eat when them folks outside\nGot a burner on my lap and I'm dippin' in my bucket\nLife's a bitch, nigga, fuck it!\nYou might also like\nI don't give a fuck\nRide with my burner and my beat turned up\nAC blowin' and my window down\nChunkin' up my hood when I hit yo town\nI don't give a fuck\nRide with my burner and my beat turned up\nAC blowin' and my window down\nChunkin' up my hood when I hit yo town\n\nChyeah, they say we probably die slangin', bangin', pressin' the line\nAll a nigga really got is my respect and my pride\nGot a chopper for the coppers, keep a TEC in the ride\nEvery nigga got a limit, never step on the line\nWhen the set say it's on I'm expected to ride\nWhen the world say I'm on I got the set on my side\nMatter fact a nigga got the set on my back\nSlauson boy, the world ain't ready for that\nNigga, it's cold in my hood, ain't no hope in my hood\nCouple homies couldn't cope, smokin' dope in my hood\nBut I could never ever be from no other hood\nAnd I could never ever leave my folks in the hood\nThank the Lord every morning that I woke in the hood\nAnd summers that I rode chrome spokes in the hood\nIf I never sold a mil' off what I wrote in my hood\nI ain't trippin' 'cause niggas know I spoke for my hood\nI don't give a fuck\nRide with my burner and my beat turned up\nAC blowin' and my window down\nChunkin' up my hood when I hit yo town\nI don't give a fuck\nRide with my burner and my beat turned up\nAC blowin' and my window down\nChunkin' up my hood when I hit yo town\n\"Bigger Than Life\" (Starts at 4:20)\n\nWhat up?\nWhat it do?\nMusic Corner\nI'd like to welcome everybody out tonight\nWelcome all the new marathon members\nTo the experience of a lifetime\nI need your hands up though\nYeah, look\n\nI don't want your love, it\u2019s not why I make music\nI owe myself, I told myself back then that I would do this\nAnd I always look so out of reach, it just seems so confusin'\nThat I felt my place in life, a young black man, it's seems so useless\nBut I don\u2019t want no help, just let me suffer through this\nThe world would not know Jesus Christ if there was never Judas\nThis knife that's in my back'll be the the truth that introduced us\nAnd the distance in between us is the proof of my conclusion\nSo life is what you make it, I hope you make a movement\nHope your opportunity survives the opportunist\nHopin' as you walk across the sand you see my shoe print\nAnd you follow 'til it change your life, it\u2019s all an evolution\nAnd I hope you find your passion 'cause I found mine in this music\nBut I hope it\u2019s not material 'cause that\u2019s all an illusion\nAnd they all in collusion\nThis racist institution double standard\nActin' like they not the reason we ruthless\nBut tonight\nTonight is my night, this is my moment\nFeelin' bigger than life but I gotta own it\nIt's a victory\nLet's make history\nDon't judge me by my progress\nLook\n\nLook at where I started and look at where I\u2019m standin'\nY\u2019all can say it's luck but I know that it's plannin'\nShout out to the pain that gave me understandin'\nShout out to my gang, it turned me to a savage\nSo niggas could say what they want to but I go through what you haven\u2019t\nBut it\u2019s not ego driven, it\u2019s not me boastin' and braggin'\nThis road I chose to go down, hard to slow down when in traffic\nIn order for me to grow, I had to let go of some habits\nAnd it's easy to say I\u2019m on now 'cause you see it, and it happened\nBut before it ever did, I had to believe and get it crackin'\nSo I\u2019m gon' take you back then, 32 shots and my MAC-10\nWith a dream minus the means, my early teens was fuckin' tragic\nAnd deep inside my mind is buried crimes you can\u2019t imagine\nThat I wrestle with at night, demons that I fight I can\u2019t get past it\nSo no matter how straight your cash get, it don\u2019t matter if you plastic\nWe was lookin' for the lights and all we stumbled 'cross was flashes\nBut tonight\n\nTonight is my night, this is my moment\nFeelin' bigger than life but I gotta own it\nIt's a victory\nLet's make history\n\nSo if it\u2019s meant, then it\u2019s gon' be\nPeople love it 'cause they know that this the real me\nThe cops hate it, so they hope my homies kill me\nBut I ain't want the fame, I just wanted y\u2019all to feel me\nIt\u2019s my time so I\u2019m goin' in\nWe ball 'til we fall, fuck how the story ends\nI see these niggas hatin\u2019, I know you hoes plottin'\nI ain't worried 'bout it 'cause I know God got me (Got me)\nGot me (Got me)\nGot me (Got me)\nSay I know God got me (Got me)\nGot me (Got me)\nGot me (Got me)\nYeah, I know God got me (Got me)\nGot me (Got me)\nGot me (Got me)\nYeah, I know God got me\nSee, I ain't worried 'bout it\n'Cause I know God got me (Got me)\nGot me (Got me)\nGot me (Got me)\n\nOnce in a lifetime shit, you know?\nThis song dedicated to everybody out there with a muthafuckin' dream\nFuck what they say, do your shit\n\nTonight is my night (Marathon, nigga)\nThis is my moment (This shit ain't gon' stop til' I say it's gon' stop)\n(It ain't  gon' stop 'til you say it's gon' stop)\nFeelin' bigger than life\n(And it ain't gon' be unless you make it)\nBut I gotta own it\n(It's your time, get up off your ass)\nA victory (10 toes down you here)\n(I swear to God I shed tears in this booth, nigga)\nLet's make history\n\nFor my niggas that's gone\nFor my niggas that can't be here with me\nFor the ones that is\nShout out my beautiful little girl Emani\nShout out my big bro Black Sam\nShout out my nigga Fats\nShout out my bro Adam\nShout out my A and Bs\nYou know what this is, it's the motherfuckin' marathon\nAnd this shit ain't gon' stop, man\nOne hundred (One hundred, one hundred, one hundred)"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsBetween Us Lyrics\nYeah (Yeah)\nHah\nThat's right\nYoung Hussle\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\n\nNigga, I\u2019ma live like it\u2019s my last (That's true)\nYou worried 'bout them bitches we done had (That's true)\nBaby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (That's right)\nI said, baby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (Trust)\nShe wanna roll 'cause she see me in that ride (What's up?)\nI ain\u2019t got no time, gotta put her on the side (Nah)\nYou can\u2019t come between it, between it\nNo, you can\u2019t come between it\nBaby I\u2019m so focused on this cash\n\nLook, VS bezel my Ro', perfected my role\nFocused my mind and got to this dough\nI'm one of a kind, not like what you know\nTrue to my oath, they proud of my growth\nI come from the turf, I doubled my worth\nI made some mistakes, but that\u2019s just part of my search\nThey connect with my words, right at the part where it hurts\nThis life is a bitch, my hand up her skirt\nHad a thirst to get rich, couple stains on my shirt\nEvery reason to fail, but we was makin' it work\nWe was walkin' on water, you could say it was church\nAll this money I\u2019m makin',  every day I\u2019ma splurge\nBoy!\nYou might also like\nNigga, I\u2019ma live like it\u2019s my last (Yeah)\nWorried 'bout them bitches we done had (Ayy)\nBaby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (That's true)\nI said, baby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (Yeah)\nShe wanna roll 'cause she see me in that ride (What's up?)\nI ain\u2019t got no time, gotta put her on the side (What's up?)\nYou can\u2019t come between it, between it (Nah)\nYou can\u2019t come between it\nBaby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash\n\nYeah\nWe on that Clicquot and kush, all yo buttons, I push\nWe pull up in that Benz, all them pictures they took\nPaparazzi on fly, that's 'cause both of us hot\nAin\u2019t no limit like Percy, but we like Jada and Pac\nLet\u2019s invest in these stocks, let\u2019s vacate on these yachts\nLet\u2019s go chill out in Bali, let's make a tape and let\u2019s watch\nLet\u2019s buy two of those watches, let\u2019s go do it on Collin\nLet\u2019s fly out to Atlanta, you play that role, got you poppin'\nI fuck wit' yo style, you should be somebody stylist\nEvery time we have sex, you makin' noises the loudest\nFaces you makin', paper I\u2019m chasin'\nIf I make you my girl, you ask if I could be faithful\nI\u2019m stuck to these streets, I'm sprung on this loot\nAddicted to crime, but I\u2019m attracted to you\nPull up in that Porsche, then hop in that coupe\nPull off in that Benz, it's me and that\u2019s you, uh\nNigga, I\u2019ma live like it\u2019s my last (Yeah)\nWorried 'bout them bitches we done had (Uh huh)\nBaby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (That's right)\nI said, baby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (Yeah)\nShe wanna roll 'cause she see me in that ride (What's up?)\nI ain\u2019t got no time, gotta put her on the side (What's up?)\nYou can\u2019t come between it, between it (Nah)\nYou can\u2019t come between it\nBaby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (That's right)\n\nGirl, your sex the best, hickies on your neck\nLove the way you dress, plus that pussy wet\nDo it 'til you sweat, and your hair a mess\nHave you late for work, but you could care less\nYou been livin' more, you been lettin' go\nYou been havin' fun, just to let me know\nThat you down to ride, you down to roll\nYou know the game and how it go\n\nNigga, I\u2019ma live like it\u2019s my last (Yeah)\nWorried 'bout them bitches we done had (Uh huh)\nBaby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (That's right)\nI said, baby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (Yeah)\nShe wanna roll 'cause she see me in that ride (What's up?)\nI ain\u2019t got no time, gotta put her on the side (What's up?)\nYou can\u2019t come between it, between it (Nah)\nYou can\u2019t come between it\nBaby, I\u2019m so focused on this cash (That's right)"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsLoaded Bases Lyrics\nLoaded bases, that's my motivation\nA nigga feelin' lucky, we should go to Vegas\n2018 mode of transportation\nGot me feelin' overanxious like a home invasion\nMy dough inflated and I'm more creative\nSigned a couple big deals, but it's no paradin'\nSee, it's a couple niggas every generation\nThat wasn't supposed to make it out, but decode the matrix\nAnd when they get to speak, it's like a coded language\nReminds niggas of they strength and all the stolen greatness\nWe used to shoot at niggas at the Mobil station\nFull circle, mogul motivation\nMy self-educated shrewd negotiations\nGot the sharks that I'm sittin' at this table with afraid to bait me\nNo tint on my Mercedes, that's for inspiration\nTwo kilos on my neck like the fuckin' '80s\nWestside Slauson Ave, know my demonstration\nBorn and raised, y'all affiliated\nIt's really greatness, ridin' 'round like I really made it\nLoaded bases, I'm gon' Wille Mays it, yah\n\nListen to my ambition, 'cause I'm on one\nSwingin' for the fences, for the home run\nEven further beyond into the universe\nBut I got to make it to first first\nIt feels like every second's being stolen\nI risked it for every ticket we sold them\nYou got the ball, I'ma take it home\nBottom line, I'm gon' make it home\nYou might also like\nLook, I was sittin' on my Lincoln, I start thinkin'\nNigga ain't gon' make a hundred mil' off in these streets and\nMore than likely, I'm gon' end up in somebody precinct, even worse\nThe horse and carriage front the church, laid off in a hearse\nI dealt with it, I ain't just out here for my health with it\nI weighed the risk and the reward and seen the scale tippin'\nLet's all get on one accord and take the world, niggas\nTake the money, take the power and the girls with us\nCan't buy that bullshit that they sell niggas\nThey breed drug-heads and jail niggas\nLook all these ways they derail niggas\nThat's why respect me to the utmost when you see me's how I feel, nigga\n'Cause I ain't fail niggas\nI seen it comin', didn't I tell niggas?\nDifferent lane, same passion for them L niggas\nSwitch lanes, all-black, two glass ceilings\nV-12 too fast, nigga, gone\n\nListen to my ambition, 'cause I'm on one\nSwingin' for the fences, for the home run\nEven further beyond into the universe\nBut I got to make it to first first\nIt feels like every second's being stolen\nI risked it for every ticket we sold them\nYou got the ball, I'ma take it home\nBottom line, I'm gon' make it home"}
{"text":"20 ContributorsBigger Than Life LyricsWhat up\nWhat it do (Music Corner)\nI'd like to welcome everybody out tonight\nWelcome all the new Marathon members\nTo the experience of a lifetime\nI need y'all hands up though\nYeah, look\n\nNo I don't want your love\nIt\u2019s not why I make music\nI owe myself, I told myself back then that I would do this\nAnd I always look so out of reach\nAnd just seem so confusing\nThat I felt my place in life\nA young black man it seems so useless\nBut I don\u2019t want no help\nJust let me suffer through this\nThe world would not know Jesus Christ if there was never Judas\nThis knife that's in my back\nWill be the truth that introduced us\nAnd the distance in between us\nIs the proof of my conclusion\nSo life is what you make it\nI hope you make a movement\nHope your opportunity survives the opportunists\nHoping as you walk across the sands you see my shoeprint\nAnd you follow, til it change your life, cuz it's all evolution\nAnd I hope you find your passion, cause I found mine in this music\nBut I hope it\u2019s not material cause that\u2019s all an illusion\nAnd they all in collusion\nThis racist institution's double standard\nActing like they not the reason why we ruthless\nYou might also like\nTonight is my night\nThis is my moment\nFeeling bigger than life\nBut I gotta own it\nIt's a victory\nLet's make history\n\nLook at where I started and look at where I\u2019m standing\nY\u2019all can say its luck\nBut I know that it's planning\nShout out to the pain\nThat gave me understanding\nShout out to my gang\nIt turned me to a savage\nSo niggas say what they want to\nBut I go through what you haven\u2019t\nAnd it\u2019s not ego driven, it\u2019s not me boasting and bragging\nThis road I chose to go down\nHard to slow down when in traffic\nIn order for me to grow I had to let go of some habits\nAnd it's easy to say I\u2019m on now cause you see it, and it happened\nBut before it ever did had to believe and get it cracking\nSo I\u2019m gon take you back then, 32 shots in my mack 10\nWith a dream minus the means my early teens was fucking tragic\nAnd deep inside my mind is buried crimes you can\u2019t imagine\nThat I wrestle with at night demons that I fight I can\u2019t get past it\nSo no matter how straight your cash get\nIt don\u2019t matter if you plastic\nWe was looking for the lights and all we stumbled across was flashes\nBut tonight\u2026\n\nBigger than average life\nI\u2019m brighter than Vegas lights\nFeeling like I can\u2019t lose\nAny other day I do\nFeels like I'm ?\nIt feels like I\u2019m 8 feet tall\nTonight is my night\nFor sure, for sure\n\nSo if it\u2019s meant, then it\u2019s gon be\nPeople love it, cause they know that this the real me\nThe cops hate it, so they hope my homies kill me\nBut I ain't want the fame, I just wanted y\u2019all to feel me\nIt\u2019s my time, so I\u2019m going in\nWe ball till we fall, fuck how the story ends\nI see these niggas hatin\u2019\nI know you hoes plotting\nI ain't worried bout it\nCause I know God got me\nGot me, got me\nSay I know God got me\nGot me, got me\nYeah I know God got me\nGot me, got me\nYeah I know God got me\nSee I ain't worried bout it\nCause I know God got me\nOnce in a lifetime shit you know\nThis song dedicated to everybody out there with a muthafucking dream\nFuck what they say, do your shit\nTonight is my night\nThis is my moment\nFeeling bigger than life\nBut I gotta own it\nIts a victory\nLets make history\n\nThe marathon nigga\nThis shit ain't gone stop until I say its gone' stop\nIt ain't gone' stop until you say its gone' stop\nAnd it ain't gone be unless you make it\nIt's yo time get up off yo ass\nTen toes down out here you know?\nI swear to God I shed tears in this muthafuckin booth nigga\nFor my niggas that's gone\nMy niggas that can't be here with me\nFor the ones that is\nShout out my beautiful lil girl Imani\nShout out my big bro Black Sam\nShout my nigga Fats\nShout out my bro Adam\nShout out my AMB's\nYou know what this is, it's the muthafuckin marathon\nThis shit ain't gone stop man\nOne hunnid"}
{"text":"25 ContributorsDon\u2019t Take Days Off Lyrics\n\nYea all this stress on my brain right\nPoker face, I\u2019m in the game right\nNeed a week to think, maybe 8 nights\nSome promethazine and a straight flight\nLet me cut off my phone, let me get in my zone\nLet me center myself, just leave a nigga alone\nI be back in a few, got some rappin' to do\nGot some stacking still runnin', got some lapping to do\nAll, Jokes to the side, nigga know that they ain\u2019t fucking with the flow I provide\nY'all, notice how I started and now a flow has evolved\nAnd me and Ralo Styles like Wade and Lebron\nAnd it\u2019s all money in and your bros is in charge\nHoes in m\u00e9nage for those rose carte blanche\nIn them out of town suites \u2018cus they know we the ones\nEquity nigga, what ive chosen, of course\nNo 360\u2019s, clothing and tour\nWhen I do drop I\u2019mma blow past niggas\nAnd I toe tag niggas like I told 'em before\nGot flow, got whores\nGot dough, get more\nFuck mine, get yours\nAnd the show just started, nigga hold your applause\nTryna get to my spot\nLook, you gotta go up floors\nI put the 6 on stock, I was runnin' through tires like chicks on tour\nAnd if im at the game, you can bet your bottom dollar that I sit on floor\nAnd if im at the fight, you can bet your bottom dollar sweat hit my whore\nYou might also like\nWon\u2019t take no loss, won\u2019t take days off\nWe go so hard, until we fall\nWon\u2019t take no loss, won\u2019t take days off\nWe go so hard, until we fall\nA nigga used to dream, my reality\u2019s a dream now\nNigga used to dream, my reality\u2019s a dream now\nI\u2019m livin' out my dreams now\nLivin' out my dreams now now now\n\nSittin' in the trap like damn tryin' to turn\nCouple grams to a couple hundred grand\nI grew up in a town they don\u2019t make it out of\nIf you black you don\u2019t live to see a man\nYou see 21, you done won the lottery\nTalkin' friends, when the streets there\nTook a lot from me, I washed up from a robbery\nNow your name 4657239B state property\nYea, you had a dream, now you livin' out a nightmare\nYou almost made it little nigga you was right there\nNow your release date is in another light year\nYea, and it\u2019s quite clear\nAll you needed was a little bit of guidance\nAnd your household it was just silence\nYou was your own mother and your father\nHow the hell you supposed to know what to do when nobody showed you the ropes\nAll they showed you was pistols and dope\nGang flags in the land with no hope\nWhere every fitted hat mean a different hood\nMake it out & they still want you in the hood\nYour own homies don't want you livin good\nNiggas for they self, get it understood\nIts just a playground full of mood swings\nDie for the color of your shoe strings\nWish I had a different way to view things\nYou either had a rap hook or a hoop dream\nFrom El Segundo to Slauson\nMe and Nipsey, we young bosses\nNever takin' no losses\nCheck the garments nigga, life's marvelous\nWon\u2019t take no loss, won\u2019t take days off\nWe go so hard, until we fall\nWon\u2019t take no loss, won\u2019t take days off\nWe go so hard, until we fall\nA nigga used to dream, my reality\u2019s a dream now\nNigga used to dream, my reality\u2019s a dream now\nI\u2019m livin' out my dreams now\nLivin' out my dreams now now now"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsRose Clique Lyrics\nThey call me Young Nip C-Note, Rose Clicquot\nTalkin' to my girl while your bitch give me deep throat\nShootin' at the world, dog, 'cause life is just a free throw\nShoppin' on rodeo in some dickies, that's my steelo\nPlayed out pussy, please don\u2019t offer me, no\nIf sex was a weapon, she could not kill a mosquito\nLittle mama lost her grip, pastrami around her pee hole\nGot too many miles, baby, that\u2019s a repo\nShorty's in denial, really tryna fuck with me though\nI'm way out your league so please excuse my ego\nDiamonds in my Cuban link, my Rolex presidential\nPenthouses and beach homes, perrier and patron\nTold you way before about this baller shit I be on\nYoung Nipsey Hussle ain't some shit that you should sleep on\nRich before rap, had to let the streets go\nFaith in my transition, I knew I\u2019ll be back in beast mode\nCatch a case, that\u2019s the tradition, either that or six believe no\nStill somehow I understood that I could make the seed grow\nAnd that one day that tree will bear fruit to feed my people\nThat one day is upon us, grab your fork it's time to eat, bro\nSlauson Ave he's so\nRapper, CEO\nAnd if we're all actors, I guess I'll be Al Pacino\nAnd it was all after when they thought I was finito\nNot my Valentino, it's what I got up my sleeve though\nLAX to JFK then on our way to Heathrow\nAt the polo lounge in here sippin' cappuccino\nSpendin' pounds, every purchase man this feeling has no equal\nIf you come from where I come from, it's rare that you see folk\nThat did it like I did it but do it \u2018cause we need more\nCuba Gooding Juniors kill 'em with that submarine flow\nLike every man of honor had to conquer Rob De Niro\nLike Ginger in Casino or that runway light in Heat\nThat shadow in the grass from when Vincent shot him off his feet\nIn other words, life is just a fight against your disbeliefs\nThat's why I'm screamin' I'm the greatest of all time like Young Ali\nPlay Mohammad to these false prophets in this industry\nBut I\u2019m just me, catch me cruising solo in my 2-seat B-E-N-Z\nOr at the Roosevelt with Rimpau smokin' weed TMZ\nFlashing lights like Kanye album number three, but I\u2019m gon' be\nFrom R.S.C. 'til the day I D-I-E, so I crank my beat and hit the gas on 'emYou might also like"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsOvertime Lyrics\nGotta light up to shit like this, nigga\nAnd I ain't even said it or wrote it yet\nI just feel it, you know?\n\nYuh\nOvertime 'cause I ain't have a mic\nI was in that Chevy\nYuh\nOvertime (Overtime) 'cause I ain't have a mic\nI was in that Chevy playin' Savage Life\nNiggas lookin' like I had it wrong (Wrong)\nNow them niggas know I had it right (Right)\nThey don't know about them sleepless nights\nThem lookin' for a reason nights\nThey say it's six degrees in life\nOpportunity, preparation, they meet, it's nice (Nice, nice)\n\nYou see me up in Neiman's, right?\nMy chain and my pinky bright (Bright)\nI valet this Mercedes Benz (Benz)\nLookin' like somebody that people like (Like)\nCan't but help to think how fake it is\nThis world and this music biz\nI just want all of this paper, though (Paper, though)\nSo maybe I could try and change this shit\nMaybe, me, I'm too ambitious\nOr maybe this a new dimension\nMaybe them, they too religious\nMaybe they judge my intentions\nBut either way, I'm on my mission\nIn the sky, for our love, I'ma tie a ribbon\nLife's a bitch, lady luck my woman\nForever you my lady, I'm your fuckin' nigga\nYou might also like\nOvertime (Overtime) 'cause I ain't have a mic (Overtime)\nI was in that Chevy playin' Savage Life\nNiggas lookin' like I had it wrong (Wrong)\nNow them niggas know I had it right (Right)\nThey don't know about them sleepless nights\nThem lookin' for a reason nights\nThey say it's six degrees in life\nOpportunity, preparation, they meet, it's nice (Nice, nice)\n\nCappin' for a cheaper price\nHustlin' for a bucket, keep your sneakers tight\nShoot a box, catch the cheapest flight\nIf it land, thank you Jesus Christ (Christ)\nYou ain't gon' get it till you see it right\nAnd jump off in this legal life\nFeel the pressure from your people, right? (Right?)\nStill choose to lead 'em right (Right)\nSometimes I rap about my feature price (Price)\nOr all of my defeats in life\nThey told me don't believe the hype\nBut I felt like this 'bout myself before the mic\n\nAnd you know, if you look at like the movie industry\nYou don't, you don't base the success off for how many tickets sold\nYou know, like, what's the gross? How much it gross?\nPeriod, right?\nWhen it come to business, the bottom line is, you know, we in business to make money\nHow much you gross?\nSo, it's like, I feel like it's a looming question mark over Hollywood, over the entertainment, music industry\nWhat's the new business model?\nAnd, to me, you know, the people that lead to that answer\nThat lend they intelligence, they hustle, they effort, they mind-power, you know?\nWhatever they can offer to that question, and stick to that and come up with answers to that\nI feel like that's one of the most important things going on\nLike in the city they'll try and disrespect\n and you'll try to go to, you know, the moon\nAnd then it was like, uh, it had industrial revolutions\nLike now, I think it's the business model, creators of the new era that's gon' be able to be the type to keep the business moving forward\nPeople that create new business models, you know, as well as products that, you know, are sold and consumed, services that are consumed, these models\nBut I feel like the giants gon' be the ones who create the business models\nBut that's we trying to do with this Proud2Pay\nFuck the middle man\nAnd uh, this disruptive multimedia\nCollab and I'm going with, uh, Ryan Legend\nOvertime (Overtime) 'cause I ain't have a mic\nI was in that Chevy playin' Savage Life\nNiggas lookin' like I had it wrong (Wrong)\nNow them niggas know I had it right (Right)\nThey don't know about them sleepless nights\nThem lookin' for a reason nights\nThey say it's six degrees in life\nOpportunity, preparation, they meet, it's nice (Nice, nice)"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsRight Hand 2 God Lyrics\nPut my right hand to God, shine on these broads\nStay on my job, grind with my squad\nHundred racks on my car, no license at all\nNo tint on that thing, nigga, 'cause that's how we ball\nAll these fuck niggas flawed, suckas and frauds\nMy circle so small, stick to my script and just ball\nFirst, I pick up my bitch, then we shut down the mall\nHad to pick up the tip, she tried to pay for it all\nBring some 'yac with my plate, garlic noodles and steak\nBouncin' out the valet with all these tats on my face\nPeople looking like, \"Hey, Black nigga, stay in your place\"\nBut it's some shit they gon' think and it's some shit they gon' say\nGot to a brick from an eighth, see that music's my fate\nSwitched it up, from out my trunk, went to the top of my state\nAnd I Versace'd my waist like 2Pac in his hey'\nBryan Williams how I built this All Money estate, woah\n\nI put my right hand to God\nI put my right hand to God\n\nPut my right hand to Jesus, fly like a eagle\nFight with these demons, shine light on my people\nThis life is a free throw, success is a kilo\nMy wife is a C-note, but my mistress is Creole\nI sip on that Clicquot while I'm bangin' that Z-Ro\nGhetto nigga like Cheetos that got more famous than CeeLo\nTurn legit from illegal just like Pesci in Casino\nGet JS off of P-role, watch him blow up like C4\nI rose from a Regal, Auroras and Lincolns\nLow-pros on Alpinas to German drop top two-seaters\nWas young and prestigious, phone was matchin' my beeper\nHow the fuck you gon' reach him? He makin' more than his teachers\nMovin' forward with speed, all your morals'll leave\nOnly focus is cheese, now the forest is trees\nGot infected with greed, distort what you see\nYour worst nightmare to need is justify your means\nHold up\nYou might also like\nI put my right hand to God\nI put my right hand to God"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsOcean Views Lyrics\nOcean views, small circle, it's a chosen few\nI wrote it down then I followed through (followed through)\nI bought a pound then we rolled a few (rolled a few)\nI talk shit but she know it's true (know it's true)\nOcean views, small circle, it's a chosen few\nI wrote it down then I followed through (followed through)\nI bought a pound then we rolled a few (rolled a few)\nI talk shit but she know it's true (know it's true)\n\nBlessings, bitches in my section\nYoung with all this money, I'm obsessive, weapons\nTurnin' off y'all extras\nTurnin' off this bullshit direction\nTurnin' up my grind\nWakin' up to more pressure\nBut it's all in your mind, so I never feel pressured\nKnew it's all in due time, now hundreds stackin' like Tetris\nHustle hard is my message, then double back and get extras\nKnow I spaz when I catch it\nYellow Bone, white Lexus, all black tint, two white cups, fat gold chains, Sprite, Texas\nI'm just young and I'm reckless, I'm just on for my section\nI'm just out here on top speed with my top down and I'm revvin\u2019\nI don't know about Hell, I don't know about Heaven\nAll I know is 'bout right now and this lifestyle is interestin'\nIced out in my session, I just write down these confessions\nNiggas died and got life around me, I guess that I'm an exception\nBlessings\nYou might also like\nOcean views, small circle, it's a chosen few\nI wrote it down then I followed through (followed through)\nI bought a pound then we rolled a few (rolled a few)\nI talk shit but she know it's true (know it's true)\nOcean views, small circle, it's a chosen few\nI wrote it down then I followed through (followed through)\nI bought a pound then we rolled a few (rolled a few)\nI talk shit but she know it's true (know it's true)\n\nLook, I'm in these streets with my Cuban on\nIn my Benz with my music on\nOld friends like, \"What you been on?\"\nShit, I've been on my grind\nI ain't usually home, focused, I ain't usin' phones\nLately, I've been usin' songs to get my point across\nWhile niggas 'round me lose it all, but that's your coin to toss\nI guess I always knew to ball\nAnd as this world revolves, I'm crackin' 'cause I do my job\nLook, from fuckin' hood rats to fuckin' stars\nSpendin' all cash to slidin' cards, it's the definition of livin' large\nSmokin' top flight in the biggest cars\nTold you '08 this shit was ours\nGettin' this cake, yeah, nigga, then gettin' more\nLook at this world, young nigga, this really yours\nNigga, this really mine, my niggas is really for it\nThem buildings is really high\nThem cars is really foreign and all I see is\nOcean views, small circle, it's a chosen few\nI wrote it down then I followed through (followed through)\nI bought a pound then we rolled a few (rolled a few)\nI talk shit but she know it's true (know it's true)\nOcean views, small circle, it's a chosen few\nI wrote it down then I followed through (followed through)\nI bought a pound then we rolled a few (rolled a few)\nI talk shit but she know it's true (know it's true)\n\nYeah, early mornin' off that flight though\nWe gon' go hard then get right, bro\nIt seemed simple, that's not life though\nTen years later I'm alright though\nLook, these niggas act like they don't like dough\nThey be mad 'cause niggas shine bright though\nLook, I got a Ruger and a Bryco\nBut I'ma let you pick which way tonight go\nI got my dough right, plus the right dough\nI mean it's legal, pay taxes to them white folks\nMy procedure, stay crackin 'til my life's low\nThen when I die, blue rag around my rifle\nHundred thousand in my coffin, that's just light though\nPlay a Stevie Wonder song, smoke some flight, bro\nCrack a pint of Act then pour in some Sprite, bro\nUntil that day I'm walking toward what's in my sights though\n'Cause all I see is ocean views"}
{"text":"19 ContributorsIf U Were Mine Lyrics\nIf you were mine\nIf you were mine\nThe way that I move\nWe still up all night\nAnd I breathe your air\nRunnin' this marathon\nYou only can...\n\nLook, now, I can't promise commitment, but I swear we'll have fun\nIf you, ask I'll be honest, girl, you not the only one\nJust a man on a mission, with my hand on my gun\nCouple niggas that hate me, but way more people show love\nNiggas tryin' too hard, they dyin' to ball\nThen turn around and hate on me like it's a crime to evolve\nToo afraid to be different, too ashamed to just listen\nSee I'm way too 100, so now they hate on my niggas\nTried to hate on my Crippin', tried to hate on my business\nNot to call you a bitch, but they gon' hate on my bitches\nSo if you fucking with Nip, let you know my intentions\nGot to think like a rider, you gotta know your position\nSo if it's cool, then we can hop in my Mercedes coupe\nPop the cork off this imperial Veuv'\nCrank the music, blowin' circles out the roof\nAnd just enjoy the view\nShe said\nYou might also like\nIf you were mine\nI said\nIf you were mine\nThe way that I move\nAnd I breathe your air\nLet me hit somethin' wit' you, lil mama\nMatter of fact\nYou only can...\n\nAy, I'm not trippin', back and forth with your nigga\nScared to lose what you got as you lookin' for something different\nMe? \"Fly Crippin',\" international trippin'\nI got my numbers up and now they pay for my statistics\nYeah, young nigga, started off with a vision\nBuilt this shit up from nothing, to the critics I ain't listen\nNow, transition, so check out how I'm livin'\nWe V12 pushers and they transmissions is slippin'\nNigga, get yo' bitch, 'cause I be bitch-gettin'\nTreat her like she wanna be treated, but I ain't trickin'\nBeat it like she want her shit beated, but I don't kiss it\nJust blame it on that shit that we smokin', plus we sippin'\nLook, double cups, she tryna double up\n'Cause I just hit it once, but she caught a double nut\nNasty, since she use to double dutch\nToo quick to fall in love, what the fuck?\nShe said\nIf you were mine\nIf you were mine\nThe way that I move\nAnd I breathe your air\nYou only can...\n\nLook, now, if I was yours, and you was mine\nWould you do me like you do him and have someone on the side?\nSo, keep yo' nigga, while I stay on my grind\nJust hit me up and we gon' spend some time\nLook, if I was yours, and you was mine\nWould you do me like you do him and have someone on the side?\nSo, keep your nigga and I'll stay on my grind\nJust hit me up and we gon' spend some time\nRight?\n\nIf you were mine\n(All Money In, No Money Out)\nIf you were mine\nThe way that I move\nAnd I breathe your air"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsStatus Symbol 3 Lyrics\nAlmost forgot what I was doin'\nAlmost forgot where I was goin', I been drivin', I been smokin'\nAlmost forgot what I was doin'\nAlmost forgot what I was drinkin', what the hell have I been thinkin'?\nNow I'm just ridin' through the city\nNow I'm just ridin' through the city\nAnd ain't nobody rollin' with me\nAnd ain't nobody rollin' with me\nIt ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it\nIt ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it\nThis a trip, trip, trip, trip\nRidin' 'round smokin' by myself\nDon't you know I do it so well?\nDollar signs all on my head\nRollin' solo dolo, this a trip, trip, trip, trip\nAyy, almost forgot what I was doin'\nAlmost forgot where I was goin', I been drivin', I been smokin'\nAlmost forgot what I was doin'\nAlmost forgot what I was drinkin', what the hell have I been thinkin'?\n\nRappin' for my section, roll with my protection\nWho gon' die next? Ain't tryna get elected\nRidin' by myself, time for some reflection\nI feel like a young boss nigga that's thankful for his blessings\nI can't even lie (This a trip, trip, trip, trip), I ain't even flexin'\nBlock for me, Black man, know they tryna stretch us\nI ain't tryna preach, I ain't tryna lecture\nWhen you make your first mil' in cash, you gon' feel the pressure\nJust wanna feel the thrust, wanna feel the texture\nWanna feel the drop-top breeze, wanna feel successful\nWanna change the game, never change the message\nNever stop grindin', cherish no possessions\nWe ain't get accepted (This a trip, trip, trip, trip), we just reinvested\nThanks what I expected 'cause we ain't even set trip\n60th the Mecca, choppers for protection\nFBI invest' us, but they can't arrest us\nAlmost\nYou might also like\nAlmost forgot what I was doin' (Almost)\nAlmost forgot where I was goin', I been drivin', I been smokin'\nAlmost forgot what I was doin' (Figure it out)\nAlmost forgot what I was drinkin', what the hell have I been thinkin'? (We see y'all)\nNow I'm just ridin' through the city (Solo)\nNow I'm just ridin' through the city (Off probation)\nAnd ain't nobody rollin' with me (Off paperwork)\nAnd ain't nobody rollin' with me (Smokin' good, nigga)\nIt ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it (Weed license)\nIt ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it (Gun license, nigga)\nThis a trip, trip, trip, trip (Ayy)\nRidin' 'round smokin' by myself (Fuck y'all)\nDon't you know I do it so well? (Fuck y'all)\nDollar signs all on my head (Fuck y'all)\nRollin' solo dolo, this a trip, trip, trip, trip\nAyy, almost forgot what I was doin' (I almost forgot, nigga)\nAlmost forgot where I was goin', I been drivin', I been smokin' (You know we out chasin' these)\nAlmost forgot what I was doin' (These M's, nigga)\nAlmost forgot what I was drinkin', what the hell have I been thinkin'?\n\nNow I'm swervin', yeah, I'm swervin'\nNow I'm splurgin', yeah, I'm splurgin'\nOn purpose, on purpose\nIt's a trip, trip, trip, trip\nTurn the headphones up for me, G\nLittle bit lower, yeah\nAlways had the passion, nigga, this a classic\nHow we came from nothing, went and got established\nLivin' like a savage, tryna make some magic\nEverybody starving, tryna take the sandwich (This a trip, trip, trip, trip)\nI know it's elaborate, but nigga, just imagine\nFelt the right to ask it, we can make it happen\nWeavin' through the traffic, I can take you back then\nEverything I said, I meant, I was never cappin'\nI was never scared to stand front line with MAC-10's\nRaise and shoot at Black men, never felt the satisfaction\nWhen I seen the game collapsin', guess they took the rules and whacked it\nStarted movin' at a different frequency and it got me livin' lavish\nAll my partners steady passin', tryna wiggle through this madness\nTryna fight this gravity every time, I swear I can feel it pull me backwards\nPuttin' thousands on they caskets, tryna pick the right reactions\nI appreciate the progress, but I'm so conflicted by the status (This a trip, trip, trip, trip), look\n\nAlmost forgot what I was doin' (This shit can happen)\nAlmost forgot where I was goin', I been drivin', I been smokin' (On this road to these millions)\nAlmost forgot what I was doin' (To success)\nAlmost forgot what I was drinkin', what the hell have I been thinkin'? (Don't let the money make you different, nigga)\nNow I'm just ridin' through the city\nNow I'm just ridin' through the city (Stay focused)\nAnd ain't nobody rollin' with me\nAnd ain't nobody rollin' with me (The marathon continues)\nIt ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it\nIt ain't a problem, I'm gon' get it (Let's get it)\nThis a trip, trip, trip, trip\nRidin' 'round smokin' by myself (Solo)\nDon't you know I do it so well? (Off probation)\nDollar signs all on my head (License good)\nRollin' solo dolo, this a trip, trip, trip, trip (I just be trippin' sometimes, nigga)\nAyy, almost forgot what I was doin' (That's what I call a full three-sixty)\nAlmost forgot where I was goin', I been drivin', I been smokin'\nAlmost forgot what I was doin' (Foot on the gas on you niggas)\nAlmost forgot what I was drinkin', what the hell have I been thinkin'? (Just watch)"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsTha Mansion LyricsFresh out the club, on my way back to the mansion\nYou know where I\u2019m from, you don\u2019t ever gotta ask us\nBanged out, still, these hoes think I'm handsome\nAnd yes I run my city, run my city single handed\nIf they\u2019d made a movie about my life it would be a classic\nDrove a bucket and we used to share a mattress\nLooking at me now you can see the contrast\nWhen I\u2019m chilling with a model from Toronto in the Hamptons\nSo what do you need, cause you can have it\nLong as you willing to bleed for what you\u2019re asking\nAnd when you see it you seize it with a passion\nCause we don\u2019t believe in second chances\nThe way you fill up them jeans make me imagine\nBut I don\u2019t live in a dream, I make it happen\nDon\u2019t mean to get in between you and your standards\nBut since every night is a scene, I\u2019m yellin\u2019 action\nI\u2019ve got the meat and the cheese, let\u2019s make a sandwich\nJust grab which ever of your home girls is the baddest\nHopefully she got a swag that could match this\nBut she could be whatever she want, except average\nAnd dressed in something I can mess with\nSpend a lil\u2019 something on you bag is expected\nLouis Vuitton and Valentino collections\nAll you Ugg-boot bitches I don\u2019t mess with\nI\u2019m international, them niggas are domestic\nFuckin' with a baller and usually bringin' out the best in\nAnd when it\u2019s over you can count me as your blessing\nCause every single loss in your life is a lesson\nI\u2019m on, and I know I am\nAnd I ain\u2019t in nobody rush cause I know my plan\nMoney first, women second, and you hoes is last\nCause I don\u2019t wanna fuck if I know I can\nAnd yeah, you got a butt, but your soul is whack\nYou like a coke bottle but the soda\u2019s flat\nYour style like the plastic on the sofa set\nAnd run and tell your homegirls I told ya that\nLook, damn, flow kinda tough\nAnd I don\u2019t hate y\u2019all I just only love us\nThe title that I hold is what every one wants\nBut still I play the game like I never one once\nIt's eleven, you know, one one\nAnd every generation had to do what I\u2019ve done\nTo the people I\u2019m a hero unsung\nGood thing I don\u2019t want fame, I want funds\nBut if they say my name the bell rung\nI\u2019ve been through so much pain, I feel numb\nThe Marathon, my nigga, I\u2019m on one\nFor as long as the Lord pump air through these lungs\nAnd I ain\u2019t perfect, Lord knows I murked shit\nUntil the day that he gave me something to work with\nOpen my eyes, he show me it wasn\u2019t worth it\nTold me if I lowered my pride, I\u2019d find purpose\nAnd it was hard to see the set was a serpent\nGoing too fast to turn, inertia\nGotta apply the lesson that you learn\nYou should come fuck with a star, get off earth dick\nGot money, but you still feel worthless\nFuck like a porn star, pussy like a virgin\nAnd in return, he keep you in fly purses\nBut when he gone you calling my line urgent\nCry me a river, I\u2019ve never be the buyer of them lies you deliver\nThe real is me is mesmerized into women\nMost of the times she never been with this fly of a nigga\nAnd I am the realization, of the dream of this motherfucking nation!\nCome on, for pussy and power you be patient\nCome up first, that\u2019s the order of operations\nBroke nigga hope you hear what I\u2019m saying\nEither that or you should pop Scarface in\nLearn the rules to the game that ya playing\nYou got a cell waiting on you in the state pen\nHope you hear what I\u2019m saying\nEither that or you should pop Scarface in\nLearn the rules to the game that ya playing\nCause they got a cell waiting on you in the state pen\nYou might also likeYeah, uh, TMC"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsMillion While You Young Lyrics\nAnd I'm actually gonna get right into it\nAnd they really wanna know how\nYou know, how can I blaze my own path?\nUh, how can I be successful?\nUm, how can I follow the path\nThat someone else has laid for me to be successful?\n\nI'm sittin' on deuces while the blunt burn\nStill rapin' rap music 'cause I want more\nAll Money In, it's just us four\nIt's just Cobby, it's just Hoggy, it's just Rimpau\nIt's just Adam, it's just Blacc Sam and Bolt Da Fatts\nWhere your 600 Benz? Where your Rovers at?\nWhere your Cuban links? Nigga, where your Rollies at?\nWhere your big booty bad bitches stay preposterous at?\nWhere you hustle? Where you run from the police at?\nWhere you ever represented hope where the hopeless at?\nWhere you had to take an oath 'fore you sold a sack?\nDealt with all the pressure, played it like you never noticed that\nAmongst it all, put yourself on the map\nTurned into a booming operation, where your focus at?\nWhere your 600 Benz? Where your Rovers at?\nWhere your Cuban link? Nigga, where your Rollie at?\nYou might also like\nUh, I would rather shoot before I run\nPressure on my shoulder weigh a ton\nYou should try and do what we done\nMake a million dollars while you young\nI would rather shoot before I run\nPressure on my shoulder weigh a ton\nYou should try and do what we done\nMake a million dollars while you young\n\nSo if you can tell us how exactly\nAnd what deal you did to make your first million dollars?\n\nI can tell you niggas how I came up\nSimilar to climbin' out the grave, huh?\nCan't be actin' like a bitch tryna get saved, bruh\nGet that dirt up off your shoulder, step your game up\nCan't be chasin' pussy, switch your ways up\nCan't be fuckin' off your lucci, gotta save up\nSee, you gon' probably fail, tryna play us\nStreets ain't for everybody, get your grades up\nAin't 'bout your money, you just lookin' for a stage, huh?\nAnd all that stuntin' put a bullet in your brain, huh?\nStupid-ass nigga, you can't fade us\nNiggas like, \"Pfft, who even raised cuz?\"\nWhere you come from? Where you get your name from?\nYou was in the house, not with the runaway slaves, huh?\nYou wasn't never in the spot when they raid, huh?\nYou ain't really 'bout it, lil nigga, this a phase, huh?\nUh, I would rather shoot before I run\nPressure on my shoulder weigh a ton\nYou should try and do what we done\nMake a million dollars while you young\nI would rather shoot before I run\nPressure on my shoulder weigh a ton\nYou should try and do what we done\nMake a million dollars while you young\n\nTell me why you mad for, tell me why you mad\nI know to you, it looks easy\nTell me why you mad for, tell me why you mad\nBut this shit ain't easy, believe me\nTell me why you mad for, tell me why you mad\nI know to you, it looks easy\nTell me why you mad for, tell me why you mad\nBut this shit ain't easy, believe me\n\nSelf-made, self-made, nigga really self-made\nAnd I'll never understand the type of games you niggas play\nWestside to the Westside, Atlanta until I die (ATL)\nFuck with my nigga Nipsey, best believe a nigga gon' ride\nTell me why you mad for, tell me why you mad\nI know to you, it looks easy\nTell me why you mad for, tell me why you mad\nBut this shit ain't easy, believe me\nTell me why you mad for, tell me why you mad\nI know to you, it looks easy\nTell me why you mad for, tell me why you mad\nBut this shit ain't easy, believe me"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsLove Lyrics\nNow, I don't ever wanna hear you niggas say you doubtin' shit again\n\nLook, look\nFake niggas, don't show me love\nAnd all you fake bitches, I don't want your hugs\nI got this pistol and a gang of hundreds\nIn this drop, Mercedes-Benz, gettin' dumb blunted\nDon't be surprised if you don't get what you never wanted\nI'm on my fifth fly whip, while you ain't never stunted\nNever going broke, funny 'cause I never budget\nLot of niggas 'round now that I ain't never fucked with\nThat's why I'm in and out of town, out in other countries\nIt's like the less I come around, the more I get money\nAnd I been catching wind lately that the feds want me\nBut I'm gon' keep getting rich, so it's gon' get ugly\nTold my mama I'ma gang-bang graduate\nPioneered the transition from this Crippin' wasn't easy, nigga, but I mastered it\nThat's why I still deliver raps so passionate\nBuilt my own lane, ain't no nigga ever hand me shit\nSlauson Avenue, do you understand the averages?\nThe fact, I'm still standing speaks volumes to my savages\nWe lust lavishness and aim for extravagance\nEven if it's only temporary\n'Least we had the shit\nI press the gas 'til one-60 on the dash is hit\nMy bitch lit the blunt and passed the shit\nLook, iPhone 4's and life on tour\nGet five racks every night, what's the price on yours?\nI'm down to splurge on my bitch, 'cause I don't wife no whores\nGet the whole fall collection if she like that store\nBaby, rhyme crazy, that's just how this life made me\nTrust funds for Emani, in case this life take me\nI live it to the fullest, never let this life break me\nThis far it's been a cold demonstration\nNumber one question now is, \"Did the fame the change me?\"\nFuckin' right, young nigga, should I be still gang-bangin'?\nWait, hold up, hold that thought, take these shots\nAnd tell my niggas S.I.P. The Marathon don't stop\nBefore I sell my soul, I give my life\nIt's been a minute but we gon' get right, watch\u2014\nYou might also like\nI'm out here on a mission and I'm all alone\nI'm far from where I'm going and I'm far from home\nSomehow I know I'm moving in the right direction\nMama always told me I was gon' be special"}
{"text":"20 ContributorsOutro Lyrics\nI can feel the excitement like I can sense an indictment\nSwear I hope that I'm wrong but just in case I'm on my tip\nForever on some fly shit however illogic\nSpend a regular nigga monthly income on my outfit\nSee I was in front of they house with rocks inside of my mouth\nWhen jealous niggas that hate me had they feet up on the couch\nAnd then we made it out\nAnd now we standin' here\nHope niggas don't think this type of shit going to magically appear\nAnd so I got some news for ya\nThey say life's a bitch and she'll sang the blues to ya\nPay attention to Hussle I got the rules for ya\nMade my way through the maze and I left some clues for ya\nNow its up to you are you going\nTake heed and get paid\nAnd scream all money in until your dying day\nSay fuck the middle man get on your grind and save\nOr are you more the type that have your mind enslaved\nThey tellin' me they believe and I got style for days\nAnd when I drop an album they'll be proud to pay\nStill out here on this mission and I'm miles away\nSomehow I feel like recently I found my way (yeah)\nAnd ain't no feelings that can rival those\nAnd you can pop a molly you can sniff a pile of coke\nYou could make a hundred million fuck a thousand hoes\nBut when its all over all that counts is how the story's told\nSo write my name down write my aim down\nTo do this my way and carve my own lane out\nShit changed they say I don't act the same now\nBut it was either that or blow my fucking brains out\nNiggas dissin' me got me tempted to change routes\nPressure building up gotta let this pain out\nGotta think smart gotta map my plays out\nBefore I kill these niggas broad day and yell my gang out (my gang out)\nAnd I stay in this game and get my change out\nFigured how to deal with it and see what fame's 'bout\nI got the secret to success do your thang now\nOr you can keep watching cable on the same couch\nWhatever niggas reap they sowing\nMe I'll be out in Vegas smokin'\nStupid view city lights glowing\nWine tasting, filet mignon, and knows who grows it\nSo many people call only a few chosen\nAnd that's why I go hard cause I do notice\nShe tells me that I am wrong for not using emotion\nToo busy to love a broad and I can't lose focus\nBut maybe in a different life\nMaybe when we make it well meet at the finish line\nMaybe this is fate maybe god will send a sign\nBut more than likely he'll say nigga grind\nYeah, so here I go on my second wind\nI'm checking shit off my bucket list and it's getting thin\nRun out of shit to buy in places you ain't never been\nAnd what you'll value most is a honest friend\nCalls from the bank there's more deposits in\nSeven days a week I be at my offices\nKeys to the city nigga I'm the hottest even if the OG's don't acknowledge it\nGone...You might also like"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsReal Big Lyrics\nReal big, real big\nI knew one day, I would do it real big\nReal shit, real shit\nI know all my real niggas feel this\nNight time, locs on\nCan't even see the stars, but we still wish\nReal shit, real shit\nWho would ever thought that we would build this?\n\nTryna walk to school, get your jaw socked\nTryna pump your gas, get your car shot\nLarge profit margin on the long shots\n'Cause young niggas rarely make it off of our block\nNight time, locs on\nFuckin' young bitches while they folks home\nHigh school, didn't go\nCouldn't understand my plan, now you niggas know\nSelf-made, well-paid\nI'm from where they tell you never touch the shell case\nI'm from where they teach you never trust a pale face\nLet's talk bangin', I can tell you 'bout a failed race\nReal shit, real shit\nI know all my real niggas feel this\nNight time, locs on\nFuckin' young bitches while they folks home\nYou might also like\nReal big, real big\nI knew one day, I would do it real big\nReal shit, real shit\nI know all my real niggas feel this\nNight time, locs on\nCan't even see the stars, but we still wish\nReal shit, real shit\nWho would ever thought that we would build this?\n\nSold-out shows, that's a door split\nNiggas ain't show up, that's a forfeit\nLeft my record label, just got more rich\nI switched it up, that's me singin' on the chorus\nBut still, I spit bars so gutter\nDrive cars, no stutter, top floor, no clutter\nHardwood floors, though\nWhite wall, that's where my awards go\nRunnin' from the law 'til they foreclose\nSit with myself when them doors close\nSometimes I got a question, only Lord knows\nWhat I'm doing out in Copenhagen spendin' euros?\nNight time, locs on\nDo it big, nigga, 'til my Locs home\nReal shit, real shit\nI know all my real niggas feel this\nReal big, real big\nI knew one day, I would do it real big\nReal shit, real shit\nI know all my real niggas feel this\nNight time, locs on\nCan't even see the stars, but we still wish\nReal shit, real shit\nWho would ever thought that we would build this?\n\nIf I could stay in this moment, I would forever\nIf I could live in this moment, said I would forever\nReal shit, real shit\nYeah, yeah\nIf I could give you the stars, baby, I would\nWanna last to share in this moment, baby, this moment\nAnd I would give you the stars, baby, I would\n\nReal big, real big\nI knew one day, I would do it real big\nReal shit, real shit\nI know all my real niggas feel this\nNight time, locs on\nCan't even see the stars, but we still wish\nReal shit, real shit\nWho would ever thought that we would build this?"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisAll Get Right Lyrics\nSmokin' Backwoods, marathon OG\nUh, what? Hussle\nYeah, I feel brand new like I just started this shit, uh\nLike at the beginning\nI know y'all been waiting\nMy foundation's solid, let's take flight, ayy, look\n\nTurn off the lights, turn up my mic\nRoll up some flight, let's all get right\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life\n\nI got that good, still in the hood\nI kept my word, yeah my nigga, I make good\n6 figure niggas in them v-12s\nNo tint, nigga, so you see well\nMy Cuban link, that's 14k\nMy presidential, I wear it every day\nIt symbolizes, how I'm enterprising\nI came from lint in Dickie pockets so I emphasize it\nYou check the filing, niggas say I kept it solid\nBut fuck the rumors, money talks and you made less deposits\nI dropped some videos, you should go check the comments\nThey love me all around the world my nigga, what's your problem?\nYou might also like\nTurn off the lights, turn up my mic\nRoll up some flight, let's all get right\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life\n\nAll my liquor from France, my cars from Frankfurt\nTold them keep they advance, distribute and market my label\nI own it all, I own it all, word in them offices is that I want it all\nThat's right I do, now who the fuck is you?\nTo question my request, I paid my fucking dues\nHad a couple dreams, now they coming true\nI'm at the Porsche lot, asking do they come in coupes?\nWalking out the club with a hundred goons\nMagnum bottles of the Veuve, and a pungent fume\nModel bitches stunting in them fucking shoes\nBring your homegirl 'cause she coming too\nFast cars with them leather seats\nDrop top, she a fucking freak\nBlow me down while we ride on PCH\nI'm Nip Hussle the great, middle fingers in your face, uh\n\nTurn off the lights, turn up my mic\nRoll up some flight, let's all get right\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life\nI'm Infant Stone, I just came home\nMy flow is sick, disinfect the microphone\nIn '08 we told you we was never gon'\nChange, and we still on this marathon\nI'm a heavy hitter like Barry Bonds\nLightweight setback for a heavy arm\nNow I'm jumping on stage with my jewelry froze\nFresh out, spending money, killed the movie role\nIt's all money in like a Brinks truck\nAnd it's no money out like a prenup\nYou need to get your green up\n'Cause me and my team up\nLight up some flight, lace up my Nikes\nVictory lap, tonight is the night\nThis the shit I waited for my whole fucking life\nThis the shit I waited for my whole fucking life (Stone)\n\nTurn off the lights (Bleh), turn up my mic (Ahh)\nRoll up some flight (Nigga), let's all get right (Haha)\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life\nTurn off the lights (Yeah), turn up my mic (Yeah)\nRoll up some flight (Bleh), let's all get right (Right)\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life (Right)\nIt's that shit you waited for your whole fucking life\nUh, like that\nVL\nTMC though, uh\nFuck the middle man, proud to pay, ihussle.com\nVictory Lap coming soon nigga\nHussle"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsI Don\u2019t Stress (Stressed Out) Lyrics\nI don't stress out, nigga\nPoke my chest out, nigga\nWeight on my shoulder, bring the best out, nigga\nGet it right or you get left out, nigga\n\nPlayin' Pac in my cassette loud, nigga\nI remember feelin' like a stepchild, nigga\nI would hate to see my momma stressed out, nigga\nBlack Sam would tell me, \"poke your chest out, nigga\"\nI could die today I've made the set proud, nigga\nAnd I could fly away, but I respect vows, nigga\nUsed to always say I'd make the whole world feel this\nNow I'm on the tour around the whole world, nigga\nPaparazzi waitin' at my hotel, nigga\nSmokin' while I'm drivin' that's with no L's, nigga\n20 bands a month just for your bills, nigga\nPrincess cut diamonds up in your grill, nigga\nNow smile in every camera and show you're a trill nigga\nYou feed 'em what you want cause that's your kill, nigga\nAnd through the darkest days I was like, \"oh well, nigga\"\nWestside neighborhood against the whole world, nigga\n\nI don't stress out, nigga\nPoke my chest out, nigga\nWeight on my shoulder, bring the best out, nigga\nGet it right or you get left out, nigga\nYou might also like\nI never fold under mental pressure\nI get better, ain't no code to y'all misconception\nI'm just special, this an ode to my innersection\nAnd God bless and save my soul from this imperfection\nI can't measure with a number, all these niggas restin'\nBut it's a lot when you that young to witness life and death\nYou shellshocked, but ain't no tears involved\nAccept it all, that's how the world revolve\nEvery 12 months you live another year you ball\nHindsight, it's 20-20 that was really God\nCause lookin' back it' ain't no reason why we ain't get caught\nMission after mission, we was trippin'\nMe and Baby Bolt Da Fatts in Lil Killa Dave's kitchen\nPolice in the front, pistols in the court\nWhen it hit the fan you get to find out who you are\nNervous as a bitch, was sweat drippin' down my palms\nAnd think through it, thug, you got to stay calm\n\nI don't stress out, nigga\nPoke my chest out, nigga\nWeight on my shoulder, bring the best out, nigga\nGet it right or you get left out, nigga\n\nPlayin' BIG in my cassette loud, nigga\nI remember feelin' like the best out, nigga\nThey ain't feel me then, but I'm a threat now, nigga\nI'm the one that represent the West now, nigga\nAlmost didn't make it cause the set foul, nigga\nShit'll chip you quicker than the West now, nigga\nLock you up in cages, how it went down, nigga\nShip you out of town, you need to pen pal, nigga\nPlenty times I've felt like this the end now, nigga\nBut I catch my 2nd wind around the 10th round, nigga\nOnly God knows to where it went down, nigga\nBut if you see us up that's cause we been down, nigga\nStand up, we don't never sit down, nigga\nMan up, go and get a Benz now, nigga\nDamn cuhz, look at how my campaign killin'\nPanoramic views, chillin' under 12-foot ceilings\nI don't stress out, nigga\nI don't stress out, nigga"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsKeyz 2 the City 2 Lyrics\nUh, rollin' up some good, pourin' up 'til we get faded\nYou know how we do it, everybody takin' flicks of me\nI got the keys to the city, I don't need no limousine\nI turn out when I pull up and tell my bookin' agent book a show\nRunnin' 'round with the paper bag\nRunnin' 'round with the paper bag\nGoin' crazy, spendin' all this cash\nGoin' crazy, spendin' all this cash\nIf I spend it I'ma get it back, even when I'm ridin' 'round dirty\nA nigga don't need a seatbelt, a nigga don't need a seatbelt\nNah, it don't cost to keep it real, run up, get done up\nShit can get real, fuck around and get your ass robbed\nNigga fuck around and take your shit, got you askin' God why\nDrag your ass into an alley, pull out, aim for the target\nShould've never been around the killers\nIn my town, we the fuckin' realest\nNo Cheddar Bobs 'round here\nI get to sprayin', they gon' get down\nSki mask over my face\nCatch a body in broad day\nCatch a body in broad day\n\nI got the key to the city, I got a ho that's saddity\nTalk to that bitch in Swahili, tattoo my name in graffiti\nWhack out your hood in graffiti\nCome through your hood on the weekly\nNone of y'all niggas can't see me\nNone of y'all niggas can't see me\nYou might also like\nY'all ain't got nothin' like this over there\nBunch of front-line millionaires\nBunch of self-made, out the trunk paid\n'Gainst the odds, really took it there\nAny prob', I'ma reappear, with a squad you already fear\nAll this time I've been playin' fair, seven digits every single year\nNiggas died, niggas disappeared, alibis, I was really there\nLife of crime 'til I get the chair, Columbine in my trigger hair\nStill I rise and I took the stairs\nFeel the fire, it's a different glare\nAll these fights, it was never fair\nBustin' knuckles, still I'm swingin' fierce\nTaste the salt inside my drippin' tears\nYou should know I never had a fear\nYou should know I never had a shot\nNever had a chance, still, I took it here\nManage pride, but I see it clear, strategize, I'm an engineer\nPick a side, gotta keep it there, switchin' up, nigga, lookin' weird\n\nI got the key to the city, I got a ho that's saddity\nTalk to that bitch in Swahili, tattoo my name in graffiti\nWhack out your hood in graffiti\nCome through your hood on the weekly\nNone of y'all niggas can't see me\nNone of y'all niggas can't see me\nTappin' in\nSay they waitin' for it, tell the streets a nigga back again\nRidin' 'round inside the 'Bach again\nRollin' flame inside the 'Bach again\n405, another traffic jam\nImprovise another master plan\nSit outside a nigga family pad\nAnother seven grams inside a sandwich bag\nMy whole life is like a balance act\nPeople's champ, but could you handle that?\nI pull up inside the black on black\nAnd park this big-ass Benz inside the handicap\nWhat I done, they can't imagine that\nOne-of-one, it's like a magic trick\nMatter fact, it's like a lotto pick\nThat's why I gotta talk a lot of shit"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsPicture Me Rollin\u2019 Lyrics\nLook, picture me rollin', tippin' my chaueffer\nNiggas look jealous, you gotta control it\nReachin' my quota, mixin' my soda\nFeeling connected to God, tryna' get closer\nSteppin' on roaches\nMe and my locsters\nJust tryna get over, tryna not get swallowed by locusts\nTryna' to stay focus, kinda like Moses\nLike somebody chose us, this weight on my shoulder\nI feel these emotions, but still I keep going\nA pen to a poet\nI been through the motions\nI\u2019m feeling heroic\nBut life is a dice game\nAnd they dare you to blow it\nYou might get a stripe man, but that ain't gon' pay for the strollers\nIt's never enough to console her\nTelling your daddy's a soldier\nShe needs you right now in this moment\nNot dead on your back pushing roses\nTo me I'm just carving this sculpture\nFine-tuning my approaches\nDoubling back as a owner\nThe moment of truth is upon us\nCall the promoters\nYou might also like\nPicture me rollin' rollin' rollin'\nMe and my friends not worried\nThen we get stopped by the police\nGotta make it home to my baby\nCause these days niggas goin' crazy\nGotta make it home to my baby\nCause this is they say me\nGotta make it home to my baby, hol' up, yeah\nLook I bet I'ma make it home to my baby (bang bang)\nYeah, I bet I'ma make it home to my baby\nI said, I bet I'ma make it home to you, baby"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsBlue Laces Lyrics\nLook, I'm from Westside California, they run up on ya\nAsk you where you from and check yo' tats under yo' clothin'\nHustla, go hard make sure my knot swollen\nFuck it, say the wrong hood, bullets explodin'\nI trust few people these days 'cause that's golden\nI seen niggas get killed for who they roll with\nAnd chose to keep inside they circle\nSatan sittin' on your sofa\nSame nigga that shot you was the one you used to smoke with\nCold shit, my whole clique notorious\nYou've heard of us, six Os is murderers\nYou still servin' clucks, jealous nigga, you broke as fuck\nYo bitch on my nuts, spillin' Patr\u00f3n out my cup\nShe can't get enough, buffer me down as I puff on the finest kush\nThey say I be doin' too much, I just do my stuff\nYeah, I just do my stuff\nHussle, Hussle\n\nBlue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces\nBig faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch\nBlue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces\nBig faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch\n\nI got Slauson on my back, Ed Hardy on my hip\nWeight of the world on my shoulders, gold rollie on my wrist\nNeighborhood chucks, blue checkerboard tint\nDickies saggin' off my ass, walk with a hoodsta limp\nTwo bricks on my white tee, same color cocaine\nI ain't talkin' dope, I mean the price of my gold chain\nAll money in, no money out, that was my slogan\nWhat I mean by that is stack it up and don't spend no change\nI started small time, dope game, cocaine\nSeven grams was thirty rocks, that was my program\nThe block propane, young nigga, no change\nShoot-out with no aim, so they know yo name\n'Cause where yo mama paid rent, that was yo gang\nSo when yo homeboy bled, that was yo pain\nAnd if y'all both catch a case, you don't say no names\nThat's just the code of the color of my shoe strings\nYou might also like\nBlue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces\nBig faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch\nBlue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces\nBig faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch\n\nBeen so many places, seen so many things\nNiggas stood against tryna chase that cream\nThis ain't livin'\nThis ain't livin, no\nYou thinkin' you gettin' paid, hustlin' everyday\nMy homies passin' away, no\nThis ain't livin' (Hustle, nigga)\nThis ain't livin, no\n\nLook\nWhat happened to the code? Streets all in shambles\nNiggas powderin' they nose, put the shame to what we stand for\nThey think we on some kill another nigga shit\nWe really on some stay down and diligent\nThe streets is cold, turn innocence to militants\nYoung niggas gangbangin' for the thrill of it\nPops was gone, moms was never home\nBut the streets was right there so they took you as they own\nBlue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces\nBig faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch\nBlue Laces, shell cases, we catch bodies, we don't leave no traces\nBig faces, suitcases, if you ain't know, hoe, we gettin' paid, bitch"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsChecc Me Out Lyrics\nThat's what it is\nIt's really what it is\nYeah\n\nNew Nipsey Hussle (Checc me out)\nYou in trouble (Checc me out)\nPay us now (Checc me out)\nOr pay me double (Checc me out)\nNew Nipsey Hussle (Checc me out)\nNew Nipsey Hussle (Checc me out)\nNew Nipsey Hussle (Checc me out)\nNigga, fuck it (Checc me out)\n\nNigga, fuck it, I came from nothing\nShootouts in public, ridin' buses\nBuyin' Benzes, was buying buckets\nKnock me off of my grind, that's what they wasn't\nMy life was ugly, and I got money\nCaught a glimpse of that, but that's not for me\nShe say she love me, she think she love me\nShe want my money, I think she funny\nUh, a-all bad bitches\nV12 engines\nBroke niggas die slow\nWhile the rich get richer\nYou might also like\nShit like that\nSound like it looks\n\nWe on the 'shaw (Checc me out)\nAbove the law (Checc me out)\nI sag my pants (Checc me out)\nTo show my draws (Checc me out)\nThis how we ball (Checc me out)\nSlauson Mall (Checc me out)\nI fuck 'em once (Checc me out)\nAnd never call (Checc me out)\nNigga\n\nAll bad bitches, (It's All Money In, by the way)\nV-12 engines (Supreme)\nBroke niggas die slow (It\u2019s on your feet)\nWhile the rich get richer\n\nBalenciagas, no Gucci problems\nGet money with Timers, Louis V persona\nHit a nigga with a llama\nYou don\u2019t want them problems\nI do my thang in the kitchen\nSee, that's a Pyrex vision\nAnd I roll with the riches\nStay flippin' those bitches\nStay away from the snitches\nThat's how you get those stitches\nOnly fuck with my circle\nNo square ass niggas\nAnd we don't smoke on purple\nOnly kush out the Benzes\nWhere a nigga come from?\nMy niggas is so relentless\nWe don't play no games\nSend a nigga to the dentist\nOr to the ICU, that's how I see you\nAll about my business\nAll Money business, bitches\nAll bad bitches\nV-12 engines\nBroke niggas die slow\nWhile the rich get richer\n\nOPM (Checc me out)\nAll Money in (Checc me out)\nThat's a Beamer (Checc me out)\nAnd a Benz (Checc me out)\nWe do it big (Checc me out)\nFucking twins (Checc me out)\nWe fuck they friends (Checc me out)\nPlease come again (Checc me out)\nPlease come again (Checc me out)\nPlease come again (Checc me out)\nThat's what I told her (Checc me out)\nPlease come again, ay (Checc me out)\nPlease come again (Checc me out)\nPlease come again (Checc me out)\nOPM (Checc me out)\nAll Money In (Checc me out)\nNigga\n\nY'all see this shit, uh\nEverything I operate go fast\nToday, the day go by when I ain't got\nIf I want it, then that's how it should be\nThat's what we run this game for\nPlay that"}
{"text":"27 ContributorsWho Detached Us Lyrics\nLook, somehow I escaped the fate of this life I lead\nDivorced the street, she tried to kill me and my wife to be\nBlack widow, silk sheets and a satin pillow\nThis California king loved you like a sack of indo\nEmpty patron bottles and a pack of Mentos\nMaster suite 'frigerator full of incidentals\nEvery day we have a ball like a blond bimbo\nTalk to her like a shrink and fuck her like a nympho\nAnd it can be as simple as it seems\nIf you never doubt yourself and learn from everything you see\nKnow, wishing on a star can turn your life into a dream\nYou could walk on water just don't look down at your feet\nLook\nTold this world I was a star I'm gon' need a stage\nCause life is short and talk is cheap so fuck what people say\nWhen I was 12 a crazy lady told me lead the way\nI shed a tear cause it was real and swore to never stray\n\nNow every second is a classic, when nothing last\nGotta take a moment and appreciate the fact that\nThis world is turning faster and faster\nAnd once you found the real it's hard to tolerate the plastic\nI ain't no Christian, ain't no Catholic but I believe\nGod gon' shine his light on everyone that never had shit\nI need some answers to these questions that I'm asking\nWe used to be connected, who detached us?\nWe used to be respected, now they laughin'\nWe've turned into possessions with no passion\nHow we go from the best to less than average\nWe used to be connected, who detached us?\nYou might also like\nWho? Who? Who? Who?\n(With no collective identity)\nYou. You. You. You\n(It's every man for himself)\nMe. Me. Me. Me\n(We need a black mafia)\nUs. We. We\n(Look)\n\nRuthless Crip on some stupid shit\nTo valeting at Ruth Chris in some roofless shit\nI think too much TV is what ruins kids\nWhen homosexual actors is their influences\nWe need community centers that teach the music biz\nThat way we learn to retain ownership on some Jewish shit\nDon't take no hand outs, you build it it's more lucrative\nAnd now everything that I spoke is the truest shit\nYou get abused long enough, you start abusing shit\nShe flipped the script and now your woman calling you a bitch\nYou got some problems in the house that only you can fix\nAnd if you was a kid that grew up with it even you would split\nHe told the world he was a star and he gonna need a stage\nCause life is short and talk is cheap so fuck what people say\nWhen he was 12 a crazy lady told him lead the way\nHe shed a tear cause it was real and swore to never stray\nNow every second is a classic, when nothing last\nGotta take a moment and appreciate the fact that\nThis world is turning faster and faster\nAnd once you found the real it's hard to tolerate the plastic\nI ain't no Christian, ain't no Catholic but I believe\nGod gon' shine his light on everyone that never had shit\nI need some answers to these questions that I'm asking\nWe used to be connected, who detached us?\n\nWho? Who? Who? Who?\n(No separation)\nWho? Who? Who? Who?\nYou. You. You. You\n(Divide and conquer)\nMe. Me. Me. Me\n(It's the Art of War)\nUs. We. We\nWho detached us?\n(Look)\n\nDeath is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it\nAnd that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life\nIt is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new\nRight now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away\nYour time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life\nDon't be trapped by dogma, which is living with the results of other people's thinking\nDon't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice\nAnd most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary\nStay Hungry. Stay Foolish\nIt was their farewell message as they signed off\nAnd now, I wish that for you\nStay Hungry. Stay FoolishEmbed"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsThat\u2019s How I Knew Lyrics\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew that I was different\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew that I was different\n\nI seen it, I thought it, I dreamed it\nI said it, I did it, I meant it\nI taste it, I loved it, I need it\nI want it, more of it, I fiend it\nI'm godly, I'm gutter, I'm genius\nI'm prolly of cheese grits at Four Seasons\nFresh squeezed, no stressants, no reason\nToast champagne to achievements\nI think we should dive off the deep end\nTake you on vacation every weekend\nLook, I be up at six, niggas sleep in\nI be at the Ritz puffin' G Pens\nThem other niggas soft, I'm the cement\nFourteen, Bonnie and Clyde, we can be them\nThese rich nigga rules I believe in\nManifested, gave me blessings and that's how I know\nYou might also like\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew that I was different\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew\n\nYeah, That's how I knew that i was different though\nRap fast, this a different flow\nDifferent deals gettin' different dough\nYeah, my life, doin' different shows\nCatch a flight, do my shit, hit a lick and go\nOh, now I got a different goal\n'Cause I reached all my old ones\nI be feelin' like somebody reached out and chose us\nI be killin' life, nigga, we got it rollin'\nWe pop and pour shit\nStandin' on them couches with my whole clique\nOur jewelry on some 1994 shit\nChampagne flutes, watch em go 'click'\nAfterwards, baby fucked the whole clique\nWest Coast shit\nOwn the masters to these classics, Death Row shit\nSo when that check come, I get mo chips\nAll money in, I went and got my own shit, nigga\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew that I was different\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew that I was different\n\nLife, and it's like, you know, you can look a gift horse in the face and not know what you lookin' at\nAnd I feel like, you know, I'm lookin' at the gift horse\nI'm just one of the ones that notice what I'm lookin' at\nYou know what I mean? It's actually an incredible time\nIt's like a gold rush, it's never been a time like this in our generation\nIt's our equivalent of the Gold Rush with everybody movin' to California\nThis technology has empowered everybody\nAnd it's giving people, you know, it's as big as you wanna make it and, you know, it's as far as you take it\nAnd we can quote a gang of things going on in the world right now\nOr just, you know, accept it as being true\nBut, you know, it's like, man, giants gon' crumble\nBig-big companies gon' crumble\nNew companies gon' pop up outta nowhere and it's-it's gon' be dramatic\nAnd I believe that\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew that I was different\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew\nThat's how I knew, that's how I knew that I was different"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsHussle in the House Lyrics\nLook, I'm comin' straight off of Slauson\nA crazy motherfucker named Nipsey\nI'm turnt up cause I grew up in the 60's\nCaution to you rap niggas try and diss me\nI go hard that's why your bitch wanna flip me\nBig guns, nigga, turn rivals into rosaries\nExtended clips, I give a fuck who you 'posed to be\nStraight off the block I sold dope to buy groceries\nNow it's rap money, no advance, it's all royalties\nYou broke, nigga, you could follow me\nIt's fuck bitches, get money, keep some hollow heads logically\nAnd I'm from where homicide boost the economy\nPay taxes to these coroners and put in work, it's a policy (Hussle)\nIt's white chalk on the corners\nIt's yellow tape on the gates\nChoppers up above\nThat's 'cause the Tiny Locs runs the streets where I'm from\n\nThis is just a small introduction to this Nipsey Hussle music\nGuns, money and bitches, that's the way that we do it\nFirst get your grind on, then get your shine on\nThen come through daytime with the lights on (Hussle, Hussle)\nNow hit the fast lane (Yeah) and let your chain swang (Yeah)\nYou gettin' dollars like a doctor, but you gangbang\nYeah, it's Hussle in the house\nYeah, it's Hussle in the house (Hussle, Hussle)\nYou might also like\nBlue rag, S-hat, gold on my neck fat\nGun case, catch that, cuz, Neighborhood, I rep that\nShoot first, ask last, move work, fast cash\nBrynhurst, 10th Ave, squabble if you get mad (Hussle, Hussle)\nAnd in my lifetime, I seen a lot of death\nA couple cold nights, it look like it was nothin' left\nBut God got me, so I got him tatted on my flesh\nSlauson, nigga, you ain't heard shit yet\nCuzzy, Cobby, Hoodsta Rob, Tiny Draws\nInfant Stone, when he come home, then baby Wee Dog\nAnd can't forget my big brother Blacc Sam\nJust a young hood nigga with a million dollar plan\n\nThis is just a small introduction to this Nipsey Hussle music\nGuns, money and bitches, that's the way that we do it\nFirst get your grind on, then get your shine on\nThen come through daytime with the lights on (Hussle, Hussle)\nNow hit the fast lane and let your chain swang (Yeah)\nYou getting' dollars like a doctor, but you gangbang\nYeah, it's Hussle in the house\nYeah, it's Hussle in the house (Hussle, Hussle)\n\nLook, I came from nothin', so did every other rapper\nSave the speculation, real banger, gun clapper\nSilence, hit the opposition with the MAC\nI'll turn him into candles on the curb over blood splats\nFuck rest in peace shirts, nigga, where your guns at?\nIt done been two weeks and we ain't seen no get back\nType of shit is that? Your Crippin' is wack\nYou ain't poppin', you ain't turfed up, nigga, you off-deck\nI promise, I'll be out lurking with the pump\nGooned up, black hoodie on, chopper in the trunk\nReady to hop out, and do my motherfuckin' stuff\nSix-oh, nigga, that's what's up, huh\nThis is just a small introduction to this Nipsey Hussle music\nGuns, money and bitches, that's the way that we do it\nFirst get your grind on, then get your shine on\nThen come through daytime with the lights on (Hussle, Hussle)\nNow hit the fast lane and let your chain swang\nYou gettin' dollars like a doctor, but you gangbang\nYeah, it's Hussle in the house\nYeah, it's Hussle in the house (Hussle, Hussle)"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsKilla Lyrics\nMy AC on, my ceiling cracked, smoking killa\nLight my backwood, count 100 racks, smoking killa\nI pull up in that black on black, smoking killa\nMy AC on, my ceiling cracked, smoking killa\n\nI wake up in this state of mind, like sky's the limit\nMy niggas said you crossed the line, well I'm gon' kill you\nI'm focused on a million cash, that's the vision\nSpeeding and I'm finna crash, that's the feeling\nUntil my tires burn, though, and my wheels give out\nThese backwoods burn slow, like my bills dish out\nWhen them people come for you, they gone steal yo house\nPut yo name on them papers, they gone fill you out\nCouple moves from yo quota, come fuck up yo count\nHave you thinking bounce back when you out\nLook, I'm tip-toeing over traps\nTight-roping at a height, you fall you knowing it's a wrap\nBut I'm gon' keep this balance, cause it ain't no turning back\nAin't no looking down, my niggas ain't concerned with that\nMore concerned with cash\nMore concerned with running laps, running rap\nGetting rich, then run it back\n\nMy AC on, my ceiling cracked, smoking killa\nLight my backwood, count 100 racks, smoking killa\nI pull up in that black on black, smoking killa\nMy AC on, my ceiling cracked, smoking killa\nYou might also like\nWhat's the deal, nigga? What's the deal, nigga?\nHow you feel? Now you know this shit is real, nigga\nOnce upon a time was in the field, nigga\nWar time, really kill or kill, nigga\nGunfire, shooting out civills, nigga\nYoung, wild, police gon' deal with you\nNot too many still living\nSo I gotta paint it real vivid\nI'm surprised that I'm here, nigga\nNaw, I'm blind to my fears, nigga\nI shine like De Beers, nigga\nAnd fly like a Lear, nigga\nClimb like the stairs, nigga\nSpend time out in Paris, nigga\nCome from where the grannies gotta bury niggas\nAnd money make these hoes wanna marry niggas\n\nMy AC on, my ceiling cracked, smoking killa\nLight my backwood, count 100 racks, smoking killa\nI pull up in that black on black, smoking killa\nMy AC on, my ceiling cracked, smoking killa\n\nI think about them late nights\nDrive to Vegas across the state lines\nFinally did it, it just take time\nSince I was ye' high, my only goal was get this cake right\nAnd what they say, right\nYou on your own, it's what you make life\nYou was out there everyday, right?\nTryna push foreign, tryna eat steak, right?\nPut some hunnids in yo safe, right?\nHang some flat screens in yo place, right?\nLife insurance, just in case, right?\nGave something to the lawyer, just in case, right?\nSitting solo, first class, on a straight flight\nI remember waiting on my day like...\nEveryday I'm on this paper chase, like\nStand between these buildings 'til the daylight\nWiggle through the prisons and the grave sites\nThen you finally get it, and you take flight\nMy AC on, my ceiling cracked, smoking killa\nLight my backwood, count 100 racks, smoking killa\nI pull up in that black on black, smoking killa\nMy AC on, my ceiling cracked, smoking killa"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsKeys 2 the City Lyrics\n455, I drive by doing a hundred\nAnd I stay blunted 'cause I do what I need\nAnd that's the reason that they love me\n'Cause I've been making money\nI got the key to the city\nIt feels good to be on top, I got the key to the city\nThis is how it is to be a big shot\n\nListen, black on black Mercedes-Benz\nTattoo all my lady friends, \"Nipsey\" on they titties\nMore game than ESPN\nI turn these hoes to lesbians, make her fuck her best of friends\nGet head for one hour, smoke a blunt and catch my second wind\nHopping off that tour bus, she probably just had sex with him\nShe's out of your possession, you cannot protect her then\nSouth Central that's my residence\nDeadly like them seven sins\nAnd if I'm not the king of this\nI must be the president\nOmg, I'm ill as shit, money is my medicine\nShoutout to my niggas in the pen text messaging\nShoutout to them bitches getting it in in their crevices\nConjugal visits make sex seem so irrelevant\nForget about the risk we took, I never can\nRebel in this white-man-world until they bury him\nBeing broke is so un-American\nThat's why I'm screaming, \"All Money In,\" 'til the end, nigga\nYou might also like\n455, I drive by doing a hundred\nAnd I stay blunted 'cause I do what I need\nAnd that's the reason that they love me\n'Cause I've been making money\nI got the key to the city\nIt feels good to be on top, I got the key to the city\nThis is how it is to be a big shot\n\nPull up in that old school, me and Lil' Shady Blue\nFresh up out the county jail, they held us both without no bail\n10 stacks to my lawyer, said a prayer that we prevailed\nJealous niggas hated that, love to see a nigga fail\nMiss me with that, \"Bro, I love you\"\nSucker nigga be for real\nFake as four dollar bills\nHit the gas, we're out of here\nOn our way to Fox Hills, spending like we got a mill'\nSmoking so much kush it got us feeling like we're off a pill\nThey know we got dollars still\nAnd bitches know they got the bill\nEatin' Benihana daily, drive my baby mama crazy\nName a nigga that could fade me\nPussy, that does not persuade me\nGot a swag that make 'em hate me\nPlus we never shop at Macy\u2019s\nLouis V and Gucci, maybe\nNeiman Marcus, blue Mercedes\nWe was both familiar faces\nSpending thousands, dodging cases\n\"Fuck a bottle, bring the cases,\" is what we told the waitress\nThen pop Clicquot for all of y'all that tried to play us\n455, I drive by doing a hundred\nAnd I stay blunted 'cause I do what I need\nAnd that's the reason that they love me\n'Cause I've been making money\nI got the key to the city\nIt feels good to be on top, I got the key to the city\nThis is how it is to be a big shot\n\nHussle, Hussle, Dre past, Def Jam, Capital Atlantic too\nThought that I'll be dead or doing life, 'cause what I rap is true\nJust another you know who\nSam had some time to do\nAnd yeah, Steve is cool, but I heard Big U's an animal\nFuck what they was talking about\nWe just did what we had to do\nBecame the most valuable, after I dropped Volume 2\nFrom the West Coast at least, now for the West Coast I speak\n'Cause on a level four with Gilbon is where I'm 'posed to be\nI be on some business shit\nY'all bring out the loc in me\nLike a broke weed head, my pistol will smoke for free\nEmani ain't gonna know the streets\nGot to keep her close to me\nPut that on the man that's on the cross on my rosary\nWasn\u2019t always banging but I speak about it openly\nNo shame in my game\nI did my thing, on the coldest streets\nWho's the hottest on the West\nAll you niggas know it's me\nSo tell whoever got it lock that Nipsey Hussle stole the key\n455, I drive by doing a hundred\nAnd I stay blunted 'cause I do what I need\nAnd that's the reason that they love me\n'Cause I've been making money\nI got the key to the city\nIt feels good to be on top, I got the key to the city\nThis is how it is to be a big shot"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsWhere Yo Money At? Lyrics\nUh! What? Yeah\nTurn me up a little bit\n\nWhere yo money at?\nWe gon\u2019 smoke a hundred sacks\nShootin\u2019 up your block\nSwitch cars, then we double back\nYou a funny cat\nYou ain\u2019t made a hundred racks\nYou ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 like Nip Hussle\nThat\u2019s a fuckin\u2019 fact\n\nPuttin' on for my city, got 100 stats\nI\u2019m the realest nigga in it, can\u2019t front on that\nA lot of fake niggas hate me cause they wanna rap\nBut if they dumb enough to say it, I\u2019ma fuckin snap\nBig guns, big guns, I got big guns\nAR\u2019s, AK\u2019s, nigga, pick one\nThis young nigga on that shit, you should get on\nAnd I promise she get fucked if yo' bitch come\nKnow some Inglewood niggas showed a Crip love\nHe was like, \"That nigga Nip kinda sick, Blood\"\nKnow them East Side niggas bang my shit tough, it's all of love\nEven to my homeboys that switched up\nFunny thing is they swore when I get rich\nI would turn my back on 'em, but I\u2019m still up in the mix, huh\nGod damn, ain't that some shit?\nCan a young pull up in a six gettin' his dick sucked?\nYou might also like\nWhere yo money at?\nWe gon\u2019 smoke a hundred sacks\nShootin\u2019 up your block\nSwitch cars, then we double back\nYou a funny cat\nYou ain\u2019t made a hundred racks\nYou ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 like Nip Hussle\nThat\u2019s a fuckin\u2019 fact\nWhere yo money at?\nWhere yo money at?\nIt get better every time I rap\nWhere yo money at? Yo\nWhere yo money at? Look\n\nWhere yo money at? 50\u2019s and yo 100's at?\nDrop my new shit, tour the world then we double back\nI be runnin' laps 'til I\u2019m runnin' rap\nI don\u2019t want no help, ain\u2019t no fun in that\nLike the type of raps make you wanna stack\nMake a nigga want a Benz, make 100 racks\nI heard yo tape, where you done it at?\nWhere you ever grind? Where you stunted at?\nYou wasn't full time, you was comin' back\nYou was like, \"I\u2019m finna roll,\" it was finna crack\n'Cause you ain\u2019t want none of that\nLook, give me love, give me cash, give me respect\nAnything, other than, I\u2019ma reject\nGive me time, give me space, give me a sec\nOn the real, what you gone get is the best\nYou know it, I ain\u2019t fuckin' wit' it at all, you know it\nNiggas ain't standin' this tall, you know it\nAll money in the name of the squad\nThat's how you niggas know we came to ball, just watch\nWhere yo money at?\nWe gon\u2019 smoke a hundred sacks\nShootin\u2019 up your block\nSwitch cars, then we double back\nYou a funny cat\nYou ain\u2019t made a hundred racks\nYou ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 like Nip Hussle\nThat\u2019s a fuckin\u2019 fact\nWhere yo money at?\nWhere yo money at?\nWhere yo money at?\nWhere yo money at?\n\nBig guns, big guns, I got big guns\nAR\u2019s, AK\u2019s, nigga pick one\nBig guns, big guns, I got big guns\nAR\u2019s, AK\u2019s, nigga pick one\nNigga pick one\nNigga pick one\nNigga pick one\nNigga pick one\n\nWhere yo money at?\nWe gon\u2019 smoke a hundred sacks\nShootin\u2019 up your block\nSwitch cars, then we double back\nYou a funny cat\nYou ain\u2019t made a hundred racks\nYou ain\u2019t nothin\u2019 like Nip Hussle\nThat\u2019s a fuckin\u2019 fact\nWhere yo money at?\nWhere yo money at? (What?)\nWhere yo money at? (Uh, what?)\nGod damn"}
{"text":"15 ContributorsBlessings Lyrics\nYeah\nI got it\nLook\nYou like the way I play the cards that I'm dealt, huh\nYou like how I came up and stayed myself, huh\nAll that shit I said on my tapes niggas felt, huh\nGot it, can't lose it gotta turn it into wealth, huh\nLike how I go hard and never fell, huh\nLike I how stayed down and lift the world up\nI sold out judging by the sales, huh\nI'm a heavyweight judging by the scales, huh\nMy name ring bells plus it sell tickets\nAs I push past these thousands to these mil tickets\nHatin' niggas get some bread you gon' feel different\nAnd you can feel Nip from looking at the world different\nAll black kids all trapped in\nAll waitin' on a day that we can back in\nThe all black Benz with the black tint\nCause now you worth something, nigga that's what that meant\nGold rollies, gold cubans\nMade what you make off going gold way before music\nKeep them squares out my circle, nigga no Rubik's\nCause niggas learn you just to hurt you I'm like no Judas\nSummertime, top off\nFake ass Louis, knockoff\nYoung nigga, lost cause\nAnd till I pray to God that we all ball\\\nYou might also like\nDear Lord, please Bless us\n\nBless us with discretion not to blow this dough\nBless us with the strength not to fuck with hoes\nBless us with the gift of real loyalty\nYou know the type, he facin' life you pay the lawyer fee\nBless us with abundance let us ball hard\nProtect us when they threaten us with a false charge\nBless us lord cause niggas with the extras Lord\nHelp me let the weight of what I made steer my direction more\nAll black leather, new coupe\nNight vision in the dash make the moon blue\nNudie jeans on so my denim fresh\nMaking death threats but they ain't did it yet\nNeed to get some cash, fuck it get a check\nBut look, hop the fuck off this young nigga dick\nI'm ballin', yo bitch callin'\nMy shit poppin' and yo shit keep floppin', look\nCame in this game all the killas with me\nTravel around the world I brought my niggas with me\nPlay the game right I build the foundation\nStay solid while these hatin' niggas stay hatin'\nSummertime, top off\nTry not to get your head knocked off\nYoung nigga, lost cause\nUntil I prayed to God that we all ball"}
{"text":"23 Contributors7 Days A Week Lyrics\nYuh, me and my nigga Rimpau was on the way to the studio\nAnd cuz had that, um, that Wiz and Curren$y mixtape in the tape deck, the CD changer\nAnd I heard this beat I'm like, \"What the fuck?\"\nYahp!\nYa know, only thought it's right for my 58,000th leak\nShit, hear we go\nLike this, look\n\nSeven days a week, seven different freaks\nBut I got tired of fuckin' hoes so I just smoke and count my cheese\nWatchin' Godfather, leather couches, flat screens\nI say I'm on this marathon, she ask me, \u201cWhat does that mean?\u201d\nAin't no puff and pass, please roll your own, I do the same\nGirl, get on that Marlon Brando and stop tryna pick my brain\nYo boyfriend is a lame, that's why you're not used to this game\nAnd if you lookin' for me, I'll be first class on a plane\nIxnay my landin' gear 'cause I don't need no runway\nMy final destination is a cloud, it's a one-way\nFuckin' with them streets, ain't no stranger to this gunplay\nBut I now I eat these beats and I don't never take a lunch break\nBack to back Swisher Sweets, never on no sober shit\nPost-traumatic stress, I feel like that's what I'm copin' with\nSo I smoke the best, impossible not to notice this\n30,000 feet up, I cross the Atlantic Ocean with a pack of Swishers rolled\nAnd if my time ain't even over yet\nI'm tryna live my life so when it's over I got no regrets\nThe keys to success, multiply what you approach it with\nGot to roll a dice but the first time that you can go legit\nSeize the opportunity, believe and take control of it\nThen get on your marathon and grind it 'til it's over with\nNapa Valley Dolce, my cup runneth over with\nMy trunk is in my roof, ayy, you know who you rollin' with\nHussle\nYou might also like\nI know a place we can go where you can be yourself\nYou ain't gotta worry and we ain't gotta rush, 'cause we not in no hurry\nYou can't be afraid to let go, you gotta let go of yourself\nBut you ain't gotta worry, 'cause this gon' take some time\nBut we not in no hurry\n\n58,000\nThis marathon continues"}
{"text":"16 ContributorsA Miracle Lyrics\nIf what I believe\nIs proved to be wrong\nThen I guess I'm a miracle\n\nI was been supposed to change up\nI was been supposed to fold all this pressure\nI was been supposed to change up\nNigga, what would I look like? I come from the hood\nI represent the only way up\nHad to hustle, boy, I'm tryna touch a toy\nI'm tryna fuck these L.A. streets up\nThink it's safe to say that I did it\nLook nigga, uh\n\nAll black everything and my diamonds all love like Vera Wang\nLook, blue rags in the south of France\nThere's some things in life that won't ever change\nMe? I'm a nigga that's supposed to ball\n'Cause I'm a street survivor and they mold us wrong\nBefore rap we was rollin' stones\nI drove a Cutlass coupe, would cop a quarter zone\nFront of the buildin' on my mobile phone\nI'm thinkin' pace myself 'cause you could overdose\nNot on the drugs but the life you chose\nBy hangin' niggas, I don't like the row\nNo such thing as they might parole\nThey putting cameras up in microphones\nThey got me sandwiched in, I want a nicer home\nThey know I take the risk, I don't know right from wrong\nPlus any given day you might be gone\nNo clich\u00e9 where the lines get drawn\nCome on the block, it's a riot zone\nFor the loot niggas stoop into pirate mode\nPaint with less strokes and divide you, dawg\nGuns get drawn, niggas lives get lost\nNever was entitled, had to fight for raw\nNecessities in life, you see the reason, right?\nYou might also like\nI was been supposed to change up\nI was been supposed to fold all this pressure\nI was been supposed to change up\nNigga, what would I look like? I come from the hood\nI represent the only way up\nHad to hustle, boy, I'm tryna touch a toy\nI'm tryna fuck these L.A. streets up\nThink it's safe to say that I did it\nLook nigga, uh\n\nAll black everything in my 600 Benz with a heavy chain\nLook, you deserve a real nigga with money\nThere's some things in life that won't ever change\nMe? Fell in love with a cuban\nA celebrity herself, prolly fuck with her music\nShe the one that the shoe fit but I can't stop for love\nLook how the game has seduced us\nBenihana's or the Ruth's Chris\nA lot of new responsibilities with all of this influence\nSpendin' racks, therapeutic\nSo I snow flake the face like A.C.s in my new shit\nOne button, where the roof went?\nTMZ takin' shots, say cheese for the news clips\nDope boys and them boosters\nGangbangers and hoopers\nMy style is inclusive, the streets is abusive\nBut it's life, my nigga, wanna survive, gotta shoot shit\nHella thick skin, never bruise quick\nYellow wrists and some 7-speed shit\nI talk to you on some suck a D shit\nAll visual, nigga going digital, nigga\nNot the smartest nigga but its visceral, nigga\nMy understandin' on a level kinda different, my nigga\nEvery time I drop, the city a feel it\nEvery time you hate, you gotta be kiddin'\nEvery time I pull up, the foreign is kitted\nAnd I can't even really walk through the Beverly Center\nHudson jeans on, ain't the regular denim\nI bought the 600, not the regular Benz\nFamous without a deal, that ain't regular nigga\nTired of tellin' you niggas I'm not a regular nigga, no!\nI was been supposed to change up\nI was been supposed to fold all this pressure\nI was been supposed to change up\nNigga, what would I look like? I come from the hood\nI represent the only way up\nHad to hustle, boy, I'm tryna touch a toy\nI'm tryna fuck these L.A. streets up\nThink it's safe to say I did it\nLook nigga, uh"}
{"text":"18 ContributorsThe Weather Lyrics\nMost the time, when it rain it start pouring'\nBut how we grind, it make the weather change for us\n(repeat 3x)\nWe roll through, but we never change for 'em\nSo smile for us, when you see us, drive foreigns\n\nNigga watch us ball\nStop or stall, nigga not at all\nI'm poppin' broads with Tiny Hog at the shoppin' mall\nAll money in the squad, boy I'm not involved\nCan't pay the cost to floss? I can spot your flaws\nSLs with the toppin' off\nDress well when it's time to ball\nCouple hundred for my boxer drawers\nYoung nigga used to shop at Ross\nFirst to shoot when it's poppin' off\nCouple times, a nigga almost got popped by Ross\nCrash unit, buzz cut ex-marines\nCrenshaw, Slauson Ave 17\nInfant Stone, Lil' Shady, Baby Bolt Da Fatts laid a demonstration\n85 Cutlass with the 380s\nSummertime functions, L.A. streets' crazy\nShoot it out that's what this crew about\nHangin' out the Cutlass window with the Rugar out\nProve yo'self, killers in pursuit of clout\nIt felt wrong, but who is you to doubt\nLook, my master plan was buy a pound and then move it south\nAnd hopefully one day I'll put this music out\nTrippin' now, seeing that it's movin' out\nI'm buying spots, nigga movin' out\nMy fan base, I see 'em movin' south\nI'm overseas eating fuckin' cro\u00fbte\nYeah\u2026 so I can tell you what this hustling 'bout\nI couldn't tell you what no luck about\nI had maps on my wall, nigga\nDope sacks in my drawers, nigga\nLook, a lot of stress I couldn't rest not at all\nNigga risking everything trynna ball\nYou might also like\nGotta let it breathe\nAnd put the weed out\nDouble M\n\nNiggas get it and they fall off\nIt's cause they all soft\nNigga like me started at the car wash\n8am to 10pm, that's on the rainy day\nWise words from dope boys meant everything\nThey say it's levels to the street life\nThen I seen a bezel with the pink ice\nAll natural, momma tell you to be careful\nIn the trap trappin' to increase capital\nNo longer cruising with the windows down\nHand on the pistol anticipating the riddle sound\nI'm Kanye when it came to 'ye\nI'm Jay-Z when it came to keys\nI'm Snoop when it came to weed\nSo now they wanna Biggie me\nAs the credit rolls, now the charge is federal\nMoney bags, I'm placed upon a pedestal\nStill on the block in my Reeboks\nYou ain't really know these was the Basquiat's\nYou ain't really know who really call shots\nWorldwide mastermind, number one all charts\nReporting live from the land of the hopeless\nRepresenting for the team that won rings with no coaches\nWe stay strapped and we cockin' so don't approach us\nPrice Johnson with a big gold chain and Louis Loafers\nBeen hiding guns in the sofa since toy soldiers\nThunder-domes up in Hyde Park, didn't nobody know us\nWe took all fades, our introduction was from the shoulders\nWe was kids, honestly we just needed someone to hold us\nGrindin' hard on them corners with cane boulders\nFascinated by the green, all we wanted was Range Rovers\nOn the block politicking with brain blowers\nReal niggas that got love in their hearts but can't show it\nWe live and die for the fame and the lights glowing\nFox Hills buying Jordans, but still the pain showing\nWhen I die, put me next to the dead poets\nTell 'em God had a plan for me and I didn't know it\nVictory"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsSound of My Ceremony Lyrics\nNow if I break your heart, lil' momma, don't make a scene\nYou really mad at yourself 'cause you couldn't do it to me\nProbably call me a failure if I ain't never achieved\nI rather you call me cocky for livin' like I believe, that I'm a king\nNo sympathizin' with the fake or suprises from the snakes\nIt's flock season and I value my estate\nSo I bought some barbed wire 'case they tryna climb the gate\nHouston Rocket on my waist\nHip-Hop cops on my case, but fuck 'em, more deposits in the bank\nGod damn a nigga straight, crooked letter on my face\nI'm a fly crip but I rep my whole race\nCouple of us eatin' good but everybody want a taste\nThey say, \"Get with it or them niggas gon' take\"\nI say, \"If you want fish, let me lead you to the lake\"\nBut niggas lazy and I'm a late night, early mornin' nigga 25\/8 Life wasn't easy growin' up, I had to make somethin' out of nothin'\nIf you struggled you relate\nBut now I'm straight, everything great\nI don't need your help now, nigga, all of y'all late\nThat's why I made sure all of y'all shake\nThe way y'all ride dick I think all of y'all gay\nPractice all night, ballin' all day\nSleepin' on the flights, when I land I get paid\nI ain't got a boss, I am not a slave\nTurnin' up my hustle is how I give myself a raise\nAnd it's funny how people let money make 'em change\nSee you stickin' to the script then start rippin' out the pages of history, it ain't a mystery\nIf I died yesterday, my life would be a victory\nThese niggas sound stupid, sayin' they invented me\nBut arguin' with fools is a waste of energy\nI'm a franchise player and a owner of the team\nAnd they only envy me 'cause we on a winnin' spree\nYou might also like\nNow, this the sound of my ceremony\nThe sweet smell of success, yes, I wear it on me\nThe Snoop Dogg lookin' nigga in the mirror told me\n\"Keep gettin' money, fuck bitches, and beware of homies\"\n'Cause Brutus killed Caesar, and Judas killed Jesus\nBut that's where I'ma leave it\n'Cause they call it dry snitchin' if I take it any deeper"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsA Hunnit a Show Lyrics\nYeah (Yeah)\nPlug (Plug)\nBidness (Bidness)\n\nYeah, look\nNeed a hundred a show so we can fly in a jet\nFuck with you, girl, you always ready for sex\nKeep my eye on this game and let the money invest\nAnd, nigga, I'ma die for my fuckin' respect\n\nYou fuckin' with a young nigga\nTwo twelves in the trunk, nigga\nHavin' everything he want, nigga\nLife in the rush nigga\nProbably never good enough, nigga\nAll he wanna do is stunt\nNigga\u2019s always lookin' up to him, whole spot goin' up to him\nNew money gettin' stuck to him\nLife, it was rough to him\nSkinny nigga, he was buff to it, trying to do it like Puff do it\nDo it like Russ do it, real life, said, \"What's up?\" to it\nNeed a Benz, nigga, fuck Buick\nMade a plan and I stuck to it\nI'm the man, you a bluff to us, small talk such a sus to us\nThe money is a must to us\nWe came from these corners but we at it 'til we affluent\nYou gotta bring your guts to it\nTryna get it to the point they gotta bring it in a truck to us\nYou might also like\nYeah, look\nNeed a hundred a show so we can fly in a jet\nFuck with you, girl, you always ready for sex\nKeep my eye on this game and let the money invest\nAnd, nigga, I'ma die for my fuckin' respect\nSmoke with me\n\nAll 'em blogs never shook a nigga\nHundred racks just to book a nigga\nGreatest ever like a Brooklyn nigga\nAll this ice here is hard to overlook a nigga\nFell in love with that fast money\n50 racks on that back end\nWalk through cause four bricks\nMaybachs when I back in\nL.A.X., Nip, roll that pound\nPoolside at that polo lounge\nM-O-B, bitch, hold that down\nPinky ring, gold Rolex crown\nTestify, never go that route\nBlack bottles, that Mo\u00ebt out\nMy first mil, I had a Kodak smile\nTell the plug, \"Bring more back now\"\nFake jewels, never tolerate it\nPray Boobee case exonerated\nEvery night I thank God I made it\nEvery night I thank God I made it!\nMy bitch bad like Paula Patton\nBig ass mansion from all that rappin'\nTell the police, \"Call the captain\"\nMotherfucker, I'ma start the clappin'\nYeah, look\nNeed a hundred a show so we can fly in a jet\nFuck with you, girl, you always ready for sex\nKeep my eye on this game and let the money invest\nAnd, nigga, I'ma die for my fuckin' respect\nMaybach Music"}
{"text":"Young Money\nAyo, Ferg\nYeah\n\nRide with the mob, Alhamdulillah\nCheck in with me and do your job\nFerg is the name, Ben Baller did the chain\nTourneau for the watch, presi Plain Jane\n\nYamborghini chain, rest in peace to my superior\nHerm\u00e8s link could feed a village in Liberia\nTMZ taking pictures, causin' mad hysteria\nMomma see me on BET and started tearin' up\nI'ma start killin' niggas, how you get that trife?\nI attended Harlem picnics where you risked your life\nUncle used to skim work, sellin' nicks at night\nI was only 8 years old, watching Nick at Nite\nUncle Psycho was in that bathroom buggin'!\nKnife to his gut, hope Daddy don't cut him\nSuicidal thoughts brought to me with no advisory\nHe was pitchin' dummy, sellin' fiends mad ivory\nGrandma had the arthritis in her hands, bad!\nShe was poppin' pills like rappers in society\nI'll fuck yo' bitch for the irony\nI'll send Meechy at yo' ho if yo' bitch keep eyein' me!\nYou might also like\nRide with the mob, Alhamdulillah\nCheck in with me and do your job\nFerg is the name, Ben Baller did the chain\nTourneau for the watch, presi Plain Jane\nRide with the mob, Alhamdulillah\nCheck in with me and do your job\nFerg is the name, Ben Baller did the chain\nTourneau for the watch, presi Plain Jane\n\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin' (Yeah)\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin' (You already know, Harlem)\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin' (Queens)\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin' (Queens for the Kings of the Queens)\n\nAyo, I'ma explain why you prolly never see me\nI push a Lamborghini, chocha magic like Houdini\nMy body shaped like Jeannie, booty dreamy, waist is teeny\nYes, I told him to get TIDAL, so he stream me when he leave me\nI go hard in the booth, Biggie vibes, gimme the loot\nI'm a classy millionaire, bitches ain't got the couth\nC-O-U-T-H 'cause you can't spell it either\nIf I call him then he comin' home runnin', Derek Jeter\nBitches must be eatin' ass, because I swear they're bottomfeeders\nHo, you know that you my son, I shoulda scrapped you as a fetus\nAll these bitches rockin' inches 'cause they followin' the leader\nI should switch it up on hoes and rock a Afro like Lupita's\nI don't keep up with the Joneses, but I do know Catherine Zeta\nI'm with Candice, TT, Thembi, and Viola, mi amiga\nRap bitches, they gotta check in with the Queen\nI'm the Alpha, the Omega, everything in between, uh\nRide with Minaj, mm, Mashallah\nCheck in with me, then do your job\nQueen is the name, Rafaello did the chain\nThis is Monse, Patty Plain Jane\nRide with Minaj, mm, Mashallah\nCheck in with me, then do your job\nQueen is the name, Rafaello did the chain\nThis is Monse, Patty Plain Jane\n\nEat a Barbie ass or somethin'\nEat a Barbie ass or somethin'\nEat a Barbie ass or somethin'\nEat a Barbie ass or somethin'\n\nBrrt\nKirk Kneezy on the beat\nYo, you know this here for the city, nigga\nGold chains, Plain Janes, and all that good stuff, nigga"}
{"text":"I gotta close the window before I record\n\u2018Cause New York don't know how to be quiet\n(Work) Stand up!\n(Work) Ferg!\nHoo! Hoo! Hoo!\n\nCoogi down to the socks like I'm Biggie Poppa (baby)\nKeep your girl head in my Tommy boxers\nBut really though, she a silly ho\n\u2018Cause you know the Fergenstein gettin' plenty dough\nShe don't get nothin' from a nigga though\nAll she get is hard dick and some Cheerios\nKinda silly though, but I'm lyrical\nBet I put him in the dirt with the penny loafs\nNo tint though, on my window\nSo you see a nigga shinin' in the Benzo\nBallin', got me feelin' like Jim Jones, I'm a pimp though\nNo limp though, couldn't copy my style in Kinkos\nPut in work, run up on a killer, then I put him in the dirt\nRun up in the building, semi gon' squirt\nThat's what a nigga get when they gettin' on my nerves\nI ain't lyin', lay 'em on the curb\nRidin' on a killer who be comin' at Ferg (damn!)\nGirl, you twerk, twerk that kitty, girl, make it purr\nPut in work, Flacko put 'em in the dirt\nFrench got the shovel, he gon' put him in the earth\nTrinidad maniac with an all-gold hearse\nYeah, uh, put in work\nScHoolboy Q with a pound of the purp\nSo much work he'll smoke up the Earth\nPolo Ground, A$AP World\nYou might also like\n(Haaan!) That ain't Kanye\nThat's Montana, loose cannon\nHe shot me, so I had to do it\nPut him in the dirt, put him in it first\nI just sold a swammy with ten homis on it\nHer ass fat, you could park ten Tahoes on it\nWhen they mask up, comin' for your ice\nWhen they bare-faced, they comin' for your life\nBaby, don't pray for me, pray for the weak\nI'm drinkin' lean, it help me sleep\nIlluminati? I'm from the streets\nNever sold my body, we takin' bodies\n\nPut in work, put in work\nPut in work, put 'em in the dirt\n\nShout out that motherland\n12-years-old with guns in hand\nThey don't ask no questions, nigga\nAll they do is bang bang bang\nThey don't ask no questions, all they do is bang bang\nI said I do this for them shottas, Trinidad, I love ya\nI do this for them shottas, Jamaica, I'm your brother\nI know a bitch from VI\nYeah-yeah-yeah, that's my partner\nYou got a problem with it\nThen-then-then-then that's your problem\nI fuck with Asian niggas and I fuck with Migos\nI fuck with Haitian niggas, all they speak is Creole\nI said all I speak is real, y'all niggas might hate me\nBut that don't get no deal\nI said no, that don't get no deal\nI just now got my deal, but I been gettin' this money\nNo green card in this struggle\nImmigration give you nothin' but work (put it in work)\nYAWK-YAWK, YAWK-YAWK!\nA lot of niggas died, should've been from Hoover Street\nNo, I do not have a car, but I could buy one every week\nPimpin' like I'm 33, move keys like I'm 36\nShip O's like I'm 28\nTacoma know I'm pushin' weight\nO-X-Y, I'm in your state\nEatin' off your dinner plate\nMy heart live where Santa stay\nSuper fly, I need a cape\nBitches throwin' pussy back and forth, they on my dick\nPassion drippin' off her lip\nShe say she never had a Crip\nUh, put in work, all big booties make it twerk\nAll big titties lift your shirt\nShow a player what you're worth\nYeah, put in work, spray his ass in front of the church\nDeacon said I did my shit\nThe pastor said, \"That nigga turnt\"\nPop my collar on my shirt\nMake these bitches go berserk\nShippin' units; Captain Kirk\nTakin' xannies, poppin' percs\nMight not last, I'll bomb you first\nTurn your backseat to a hearse\nBack to the lab with mother Earth\nHad to give Young Ferg a verse\nA lot of homies cried, due to crimes, homicide\nDrivin' by, poppin' nines, Pakistan, Columbine\nOutta line, pistols barkin' (argh argh), ride or die\nWrite a script, design a line, all I see is dollar signs\nYou want that pretty Flacko? Ratchets, designer jackets\nThe same niggas who jack it\nBe the first who claim we faggots\nMy bitch is a movie actress\nSide bitch won a beauty pageant\nGot a chick that worked at Magic\nBut I'm so damn fine make a bitch look average\nSee, my daddy in Heaven, right next to Ferg's\nYou know what's up I'm throwin' bucks\nLoaded Lux; put in work"}
{"text":"Yeah\n\nRide with the mob, Alhamdulillah\nCheck in with me and do your job\nFerg is the name, Ben Baller did the chain\nTourneau for the watch, presi Plain Jane\n\nYamborghini chain, rest in peace to my superior\nHerm\u00e8s link could feed a village in Liberia\nTMZ taking pictures, causin' mad hysteria\nMomma see me on BET and started tearin' up\nI'ma start killin' niggas, how you get that trife?\nI attended Harlem picnics where you risked your life\nUncle used to skim work, sellin' nicks at night\nI was only 8 years old, watching Nick at Nite\nUncle Psycho was in that bathroom buggin'!\nKnife to his guts, hope Daddy don't cut him\nSuicidal thoughts brought to me with no advisory\nHe was pitchin' dummy, sellin' fiends mad ivory\nGrandma had the arthritis in her hands, bad!\nShe was poppin' pills like rappers in society\nI'll fuck yo' bitch for the irony\nI'll send Meechy at yo' ho if yo' bitch keep eyein' me!\nYou might also like\nRide with the mob, Alhamdulillah\nCheck in with me and do your job\nFerg is the name, Ben Baller did the chain\nTourneau for the watch, presi Plain Jane\nRide with the mob, Alhamdulillah\nCheck in with me and do your job\nFerg is the name, Ben Baller did the chain\nTourneau for the watch, presi Plain Jane\n\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin'\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin'\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin'\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin'\n\nI'ma explain why you probably never seen me\nI'm in a sunken place, no Instagram, I'm watchin' TV\nI think I trade my breakfast, lunch, and dinner for some kitty\nPlease believe me, I see RiRi, I'ma eat it like panini\nI go dumb up in the broad, hit the walls like graffiti\nIndian burns all up on a nigga wee-wee\nI think I need a foursome, Bella, Kendall, Gigi\nIt'd be easy if Reneezy hook it all up on the leezy\nI go crazy in my Yeezy, Kirk Kneezy on the beat\nI told 'em now we finna glow up in the street\nRappers talk subliminal but they don't talk to me\nPut 'em in a Jersey shore like Pauly D\nRide with the mob, Alhamdulillah\nCheck in with me and do your job\nFerg is the name, Ben Baller did the chain\nTourneau for the watch, presi Plain Jane\nRide with the mob, Alhamdulillah\nCheck in with me and do your job\nFerg is the name, Ben Baller did the chain\nTourneau for the watch, presi Plain Jane\n\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin'\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin'\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin'\nSuck a nigga dick or somethin'"}
{"text":"\nShort nigga but my dick tall\nWhat I told your bitch, dog\nOnly thug nigga down at the Pitchfork\nDirty van bitches wanna suck my dick off\nPop a Xanny for a penny\nGet to hit floor, run up in this shit raw\nI got a girl, I ain't never got no fuckin' condoms\nIf she caught me, then that bitch would be pissed off (Real nigga shit)\nFergy be mobbing all day, prolly with Marty or Jay\nThem my niggas from back in the day, Tarzan ain't showing his face\nHe prolly the one with the K, fronting then he letting it spray\nTwo shots to a bumboclaat man, Shabba Ranks let it go to your brain\nFront then he coming your way, let the semi dump-dump then he coming your way\nDump when the bad man come, my yute don't ramp with me\nCoupe full of bad hoes, they all wanna come with me\nYou got a coupe with a sad ho cause she wanna come with me\nShabba!\n\nShab-Shabba Ranks, Shab-Shab-Shabba Ranks\nEight gold rings like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nFour gold chains like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nOne gold tooth like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nShab-Shabba Ranks, Shab-Shab-Shabba Ranks\nEight gold rings like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nTwo bad bitches like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nOne gold tooth like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nYou might also like\nSkinny nigga but my dick long (Pause!)\nStank puss make my dick soft\nProbably bumping R. Kelly sipping Cristal\nSo you know the whole world getting pissed on\nI don't really give a fuck if you pissed off\nI just bought a Mac-11 from the thrift store\nTraded for my gold chain and my pistol\nShoot a rocket make a mothafucka lift off\n(Let's go)\nFlacko be mobbing all day\nWith niggas that's chopping that yay\nThey chopping them choppas they handle my problems\nCause niggas be plotting these days\nBut the 'Rari kinda fast though, she told me pump my brakes\nYou stuck with a fat ho, and she wanna stuff her face\nTo all of my Dominican girls dem, all of my Caribbean girls dem\nAll my West Indian girls dem, I done fucked a million girls, damn\nWith a little ting a ling ling school bell a ring\nHit her with my ding-a-ling-a-ling, maybe run a train\nAnd tell her that my niggas wanna bang and a little brain\nAnd she wanna hang with the gang with a nigga named (Shabba!)\n\nShab-Shabba Ranks, Shab-Shab-Shabba Ranks\nEight gold rings like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nFour gold chains like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nOne gold tooth like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nShab-Shabba Ranks, Shab-Shab-Shabba Ranks\nEight gold rings like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nTwo bad bitches like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nOne gold tooth like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nI was broke last week but today be a new day\nMothafuckas like cavities, cause them niggas be too fake\nWalk in this bitch with the new Wang, looking like Liu Kang\nWith a blonde bitch that wanna snoop cane\nThen she get the Batman like Bruce Wayne (Master Bruce)\nI be mobbing with the A, 'til my whole body decay\nI don't give a fuck what you say, my whole team like a parade\nTwelvyy got bags of the haze, Illi be smoking all day\nMe and Rock run trains on the ho, he be like \"Bitch, don't touch my braids\"\nTy Beats in VA putting producers in graves\nYams got a bottle of Henny, going straight to the face\nTy Nast got a bad ho, but she's tryna come my way\nBut he got my last ho, so shit man it's okay\n(Shabba)\n\nShab-Shabba Ranks, Shab-Shab-Shabba Ranks\nEight gold rings like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nFour gold chains like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nOne gold tooth like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nShab-Shabba Ranks, Shab-Shab-Shabba Ranks\nEight gold rings like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nTwo bad bitches like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nOne gold tooth like I'm Shab-Shabba Ranks\nShab-Shabba Ranks, Shab-Shabba Ranks...\nShab-Shabba Ranks, Shab-Shabba Ranks..."}
{"text":"71 ContributorsWork Lyrics\nYeah, straight off the plane\nDroppin' the flame\nHoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hoo!\n\nA lot of niggas die, due to these streets\nA lot of mamas cry, due to this beef\nPurple kush got me high, don't wanna leave\nSee my daddy in heaven, he be the realest G\nAnd your bitch I got her, she like my Tommy boxers\nNigga I ain't no boxer, I let that Tommy box 'em\nMake 'em say ugh, Silkk the Shocker\nVery rare Vesace, I bet my silk will shock her\n\nPut in work, put 'em in the dirt\nSemi gon' squirt, damn he got murked\nWho got that work? He got that work\nShe pop that pussy, she make it twerk\nA couple model bitches, thought I balled for the Lakers\nAll they know is suck and fuck and speak a different language\nShe like that cocaina, she sniff it off my banger\nShe like to blow my nine, I think she's going brainless\nPut in work, put 'em in the dirt\nSemi gon' squirt, damn he got murked\nWho got that work? He got that work\nShe pop that pussy, she make it twerk\nA couple model bitches, thought I balled for the Lakers\nAll they know is suck and fuck and speak a different language\nShe like that cocaina, she sniff it off my banger\nShe like to blow my nine, I think she's going brainless\nYou might also like\nAll my Dominican niggas, got me speaking Spanglish\nNow that I'm rapping, I'm fucking different singers\nCeline Dion, Mariah Carey\nI got them Nick Cannons, if you coming at me\nCouple of them skinny niggas, that be trigger happy\nFeel them candy girls, make them do the Laffy Taffy\nThey pop a pill, then they pop a bullet\nMan, fucking with this nigga like playing Russian Roulette\nI ain't wanna pull it, but I had to do it\nI be out tomorrow, my lawyer's Jewish\nHe work hard, he put in work\nHe put in work, got these niggas going bezerk\nRiding music, I see you riding to it\nBang 'em over the head, nigga that for talking foolish\nNigga, work hard, put in work\nPut in work, got these niggas going berserk"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsNew Level Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\nA$AP (Turn my vocals up a little bit more, please)\nYeah, A$AP (Honorable C.N.O.T.E.)\nYeah, a little bit more\nYeah (Coo-coo), I'm on a new level (Yeah)\nI'm on it, I'm on it (Hoo, hoo, hoo, oh)\n\nI'm on a new level (Oh, oh)\nI'm on a new level (Yeah, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (Oh, oh)\nI'm on a new level (Yeah, yeah)\nBought me a new shovel (Oh, oh)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Yeah, yeah)\nChain with the new bezel (Oh, oh)\nAll my niggas put in work (Yeah, yeah, coo-coo)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nBought me a new shovel (Yeah, oh, oh)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Yeah, yeah)\nChain with the new bezel (Oh, oh)\nAll my niggas put in work (Rrr)\nYou might also like\nUsed to be sleepin' on itchy beds (Oh)\nBed bugs in the motel (Yeah)\nNow your bitch give me head (Oh)\nTwenty bitches in the hotel (Yeah, yeah)\nOn a ramen noodle diet (Uh, uh)\nTour life wasn't so well (Yeah)\nAll my niggas starting riots (Uh, woo)\nMoshpittin' on your toenails (Yeah)\nUncle T doing so well (Oh, oh)\nFirst class from a old jail (Yeah, that's right)\nT Ferg did fifteen (Oh, oh)\nIn the feds, getting no mail (Yeah, yeah)\nMy daddy died and my cousin too (Oh, oh)\nThey didn't let them out of no cell (Yeah)\nProvide jobs for my whole block (Oh)\nI cannot slow down (That's right)\nNigga, I won't stop now (Oh, oh)\nMothafucker, this is my town (Yeah)\nTake the block, make it hot now (Oh, oh)\n143rd with the drop down (Yeah)\nIcy chain with the watch now (Yeah, yeah)\nThird piece full of rocks now (Yeah)\nNiggas squint when they watch now (Coo-coo)\nLeveling up to the top now\nI'm on a new level (Oh, oh)\nI'm on a new level (Yeah, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (Oh, oh)\nI'm on a new level (Yeah, yeah)\nBought me a new shovel (Oh, oh)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Yeah, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (Oh, oh)\nAll my niggas put in work (Yeah, yeah, coo-coo)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nBought me a new shovel (Yeah)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Uh, yeah, yeah)\nBought me some new bezels (Yeah, yeah)\nAll my niggas put in work, hey\n\nBought me some better bezels\nMan and went to see my jeweler, woo and I re'd up\nWent and bought some new jewels\nHit the car dealer, woo-woo, re'd up\nWho knew we would blow up like nitro?\nNow these bitches need us\nOoh, I just tasted molly on me\nLord knows I just re'd up\nDip and dabbin' in some new designer\nI just dipped and dabbed with the semi tucked\nYou on the red carpet surrounded by pop stars tryna act tough\nI gotta Actavis on me, nigga, and I po'd up\nThey say that we couldn't smoke in this bitch\nAnd we fucked around and still rolled up\nI'm on a new level (Oh, oh)\nI'm on a new level (Yeah, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (Oh, oh)\nI'm on a new level (Yeah, yeah)\nBought me a new shovel (Yeah, oh, oh)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Yeah, yeah)\nChain with the new bezel (Yeah, oh, oh)\nAll my niggas put in work (Yeah, yeah, coo-coo)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nBought me a new shovel (Yeah, yeah)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Uh, yeah, yeah)\nChain with the new bezel (Yeah, yeah)\nAll my niggas put in work (Coo-coo)\n\nDaddy lookin' down, I know he see me blowin' up\nMy grandma would be so proud (Yeah, yeah)\nUp in Heaven, Yamborgini, know my brother see me\nI'ma make my bro proud (Yeah, yeah)\nTell his mama I'ma take her outta work\nKnow that I'ma hold my bros down (Yeah, yeah)\nA$AP 'til a nigga die\nIf you didn't know, well, you know now\nI gotta get in my zone now\nI gotta get in my zone now (Right)\nOnly a couple-a more down\nMomma gon' get a new home now (Alrihgt)\nTeach Marty Baller how to be a boss (Yeah)\nSo none of us ever go broke now (Coo-coo)\nI'ma bring you to the water, swim, nigga\nI cannot bring you the boat now\n\nI'm on a new level (I'm on it, I'm on it)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on it, I'm on it)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on it, I'm on it)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nBought me a new shovel (I'm on a new level)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Dirt, yeah, yeah)\nChain with the new bezel (I'm on a new level)\nAll my niggas put in work (All my niggas put in work, coo-coo)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level)\nBought me a new shovel (Bought me a new shovel)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Put these niggas in the dirt)\nChain with the new bezel (Bought me some new bezels)\nAll my niggas put in work (Wow)"}
{"text":"Run it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (Remix)\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up\nThis that East Coast, motherfucker\nCall me \"Mr. East Coast,\" motherfucker\nLet me give them a friendly reminder real quick, yo\n\nY'all already know the God gotta talk\nEvery single time I come, you niggas know I gotta do it\nYes, I gotta do it, and I gotta kill 'em, and I gotta hit 'em\nYes, you know a nigga gotta beat 'em stupid\nOnly got forty-one seconds just to give a nigga shit\nEvery second, bitch, I gotta use it\nSorry, but a nigga blew it, and I came to grab the microphone\nAnd I make a motherfucker lose it\nAnd I make niggas jump, and I back niggas up\nShe in the back of the truck\nLil' mami wanna fuck and she really wanna suck\nWhen I finish with her, then we go in the back of the club\nAnd we do this shit again, my nigga, pronto\nBip-de-badda-de-booda-de-beat it like a bongo\nBanging on the pussy like a nigga named Alonzo\nHead game crazy, that make her the head honcho\nMad 'cause I took his bitch, and now, he think he macho?\nSomebody better call the cops, yo\n'Fore we run up inside of that nigga little condo\nPut him in a box, put the nigga in a cargo (Cargo? Cargo!)\nShut a nigga down (Fake bitch)\nThrow a bottle at you, shut a nigga mouth (Break shit)\nCome and follow, nigga, stand up on the couch (Shake shit)\nLet her swallow, niggas know we're in the house (Trey-fifth)\nEast Coast, nigga!\nYou might also like\n1-0-0-3-1 is where my ZIP is\nLive in Har-ar-lem, up in the trenches\nRun through a bodega like I ain't got riches\nRun through a bodega like I ain't got\u2014 (Come on)\nDon't do it for the haters, I do it for the bitches\nMy flow Al-Qaeda, I kill rap niggas\nY'all Now-and-Laters, uh, sweet ass-niggas\nSoon as you get famous, they wanna ass-kiss (Muah)\nOnly thing that I'm missing is Hov verse (JAY-Z)\nI get a feeling they want the old Ferg (Yah)\n\"Cocaine Castle\", \"Hood Pope\" Ferg (Yah)\nGot a question to ask you: Do you know Ferg?\nDo you know that I come from where the toast burn?\nNew York, New York, uh, 1-4-3rd\nOn Hungry Ham, up on the corner\nFiends gangster-leaning, never sober\nFrom being in the streets to run a culture\nI never been in the weave, I had hoes, bruh (Yeah)\nWho's that jiggy motherfucker with the clothes, bruh? (Yeah)\nI'm finna kill these motherfuckers with the flow, bruh\nI'm the best in the game with the flow, bruh\nIn New York, I Milly Rock to \"Magnolia\"\nI love the East, but shout-out to every coast, bruh\nSouth to North and even West Coast, bruh (Come on)\nBlackin' like I'm fresh up out retirement\nMy flow still monumental, mental\nCouldn't ride an instrumental, but they ridin' dick\nI set the standards for requirements, so call the firemen\nJust me, myself and I, the world is mine, I put the \"I\" in his\nHis posse too clean (Ayy), his diamonds like TIP (Ayy)\nHis skin too clear (Ayy), his bitch gon' stare (Ayy)\nSo mind your biz, how they find the time for minding mine\nI find these college chicks for top\nWith Kylie's lips, oh my, oh my (Run it)\nRun it, run it like you want it (Run it)\nRun it, run it like you stole it (Run it)\nRunning, running like I'm going (Woo)\nRunning, pitching like I'm bowling (Woo)\nIn my city, gangs run the inner city\nLoad a semi for the chiddy bang\nFlacko, Fergie, Frenchie with the bitties\nHit up Remy for the pretty gang\n\nLately, I feel like a Beatle\nI'm Paulie McCartney just rocking Moschino\nMoscato or Pinot\nI got some bitches to hop in the Regal\nPhenomenal deepthroat (Phenomenal)\nI'm more Ali than Muhammad\nMy noodles was Ramen, go Google my diamonds (Go Google)\nI got some shooters in college\nI feel like a coach, I'm recruiting and signing, look\nI still be moving in silence\nI'm ballin' in blue like I'm hooping in Dallas (Ballin')\nBitch, I don't play for no Mavericks\nYou need to think who gon' pay for your casket (Who?)\nIgnorant bastard (Hanh)\nBut I'm still conscious enough to give hope to the masses (Hanh)\nWatch the coke do gymnastics (East side)\nDominique Dawes, foreign my car when I'm mashin' (Hanh)\nChain, busting it down\nWrist, busting it down (Down)\nYour bitch busting it down (Down)\nRap game, I'm fucking it now (Pow)\nI could be a jeweler (Jeweler)\nNeck, that's Slick the Ruler (Ruler)\nYou niggas is comedy (Bling)\nTalking fast like Bone Thugs-N-Harmony (Harmony)\nKRS-One, Big L flows (Flows)\nSon of a gun with the Buffalo ('Lo)\nHead on my wrist is a P1 (One)\nMade more money than E1 (One)\nOne time Chinx, two time Yams (Yams)\nGet the money, slide like a violin (Violin)\nYou know my nigga Max almost home? (Ha)\nYou know who run the East Coast zone, nigga? (Ha)\n(Maybach Music)\n\nIn the kitchen, culinary, I could whip a Bloody Mary\nAnd I wish that blood would dead me, I'ma get your brother buried\nGangbanging with your halo, business on the payphone\nBitches pussies drying up like Taz's Angels\nNever was a client 'cause that boy ain't buying it\nAnd I got a bottom bitch, my top come on consignment\nStep up from the minor league, double-M the dynasty\nNo, I never sold dope; I just got me a finder's fee\nFollowing my frequency, niggas rapping week to week\nSuckers be so weak to me; text, but don't speak to me\nYou can never speak for me, see the B.I. chemistry\nCheck into the crazy house, I'ma turn the labels out\n\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (Remix)\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up (All right)\nThis that East Coast, motherfucker (Ooh)\nBut I know this West Coast\u2014 (Snoop Dogg!)\n\nTen-twenty was my date of birth, the day I came to Earth\nBottle-sipping, love to burp, young nigga that's doing dirt\n\"Long Beach\" across my shirt, all y'all niggas gon' get murked\nWhat the fuck is you talkin' bout? Me and Ferg, we gon' put in work\nBang on you, gang culture, out of this world\nIt's all on a bitch\u2014is she a Blood? Is she a Crip?\nDon't slip, think not, on the block where it's hot\nLegalize with the nines, give a fuck about a cop\nReal shit, this is it, from the bottom to the Bay\nThis is anybody K, California all day\nYes sir, on the curb, Mossberg by the van\nLil' homies on the roof with the \"blam, blam, blam!\"\nLong Beach, popping pill on 'em\nI been working so hard, nigga, get your bale on\nI been working so hard, nigga, work to sell somethin'\nI been working so hard, welcome to the Hell-zone, zone, zone\n\nSee I'm from Long Beach\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up (Remix)\nSee I'm from Long Beach\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up (Oww, all right)\nSee I'm from Long Beach\nThis that East Coast, motherfucker\nCalifornia, motherfucker, see I'm from Long Beach\nCall me \"Mr. East Coast,\" motherfucker (Long Beach)\nWest Coast"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsDump Dump Lyrics\nHer hands all on my fade, bitch pop that ass in the coup\nThat bitch got Lisa Leslie money, she balling, Sheryl Swoops\nShe keep rubbing her nose, I can tell she wanna snoop\nThat coke make my dick numb, she put it all in her glutes\nFeel like Bishop from Juice, gun all in my boot\nSayonara feeling sauna when I blast that ass with that Uz', ooh\nBlast that ass with that Uz', better hope to God it ain't you\nTrap Lord with about ten jeeps, no telling what I might do\nI fucked your bitch, nigga and she about to fuck my crew\nShe just finished with Twelvyy and now she off to Lou\nPussy-ass nigga wearing all black, claim they off to shoot\nI pray to God he ain't lying, my gorillas live in the zoo\nI got killers with the deuce-deuce, them Tan Boys my niggas\nThey gon' ride with me too, bust they nines with me too\nThat's my bilingual crew, who do sign language true\nBandannas in they pockets, how the fuck we gon' lose?\n\nI fucked your bitch, nigga, I fucked your bitch\nI fucked your bitch, nigga, I fucked your bitch\nShe sucked my dick, nigga, she sucked my dick\nShe sucked my dick, nigga, she sucked my dick\nRide around town with about 100 niggas\nWhen you see me come around, don't try to run up on a nigga\nFour pound lay 'em down, now you six feet under, nigga\nIf you feel some type of way, then let me see you dump nigga\nYou might also like\nRide around my city, feeling like P. Diddy\nGlock 9 in my silk shirt, nigga, no Pac and no Biggie\nSpilling on, my teeth hurt but these grills worth a milli'\nI was in the club, I seen the whole thing, I was right next to Meek Milly\nShout outs my nigga Chrissy, don't bug over these bitches\nI ain't fucking with these ratchet hoes, I put a slug in these bitches\nPop a pill in her asshole, put drugs in these bitches\nImpress my girl, she fine as fuck so I ain't loving these bitches\nI just be fucking these bitches, ain't no love for these bitches\nDiamond Dollas, that Fergenstein, I DDP on these niggas\nFeel the heat when it bigger, bullet creeped to his window\nNigga, I'm going double wood, fuck around and catch a splinter\nNine milli', my nigga, get hung, high ceiling, my nigga\nAll the macks in they Maybachs, no 550, my nigga\nThey saying Ferg went from \"Kissin' Pink\" to a Young 50, my nigga\nI'm in court for your bitch ass, that's real shitty, my nigga\n\nI fucked your bitch, nigga, I fucked your bitch\nI fucked your bitch, nigga, I fucked your bitch\nShe sucked my dick, nigga, she sucked my dick\nShe sucked my dick, nigga, she sucked my dick\nRide around town with about 100 niggas\nWhen you see me come around, don't try to run up on a nigga\nFour pound lay 'em down, now you six feet under, nigga\nIf you feel some type of way, let me see you dump nigga\nDump Dump\nWith about 100 niggas\nDon't try to run up on a nigga\nNow you six feet under, nigga\nLet me see you dump nigga\nWith about 100 niggas\nDon't try to run up on a nigga\nNow you six feet under, nigga\nLet me see you dump nigga"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsLet It Go Lyrics\nTrap Lord season begins, now repent your sins\nThis Yamborghini on the motherfuckin' check-in\nYou know I had to hang glide through for this one and all that\nYou know, we at the all-star game right now, eyes closed (Swish)\nShootin' fadeaways from half-court (Elbow in the rim and all that)\nTomahawk jams (Y'all still in the D-League doing, uhh, layup drills)\nYa heard? Ya feel me?\n\nKill a motherfucka with the Magnum .44\nFind a chump slumped, nigga, magnum on the road\nBody full of bullets when they found him on the road\nLay a fucker down, spray it at him then reload\nThis that Fergenstein and I be down to let it go\nSemi or the tech, spray it at him then reload\nThis that Fergenstein and I be down to let it go\nSemi or the tech, spray it at him then reload (Fergie!)\n\nRide Maybachs like Ross (Huh), 550 Benz, four doors (Doors)\nPraying for my niggas, they lost (Lost)\nDying no thing, they wolves (They wolves)\nRiding on a gang that floss (Floss)\nMultiplyin' by the gang that bucks (Bucks)\nPull a 9 on anything we spark (Spark)\nM\u00e9nage ain't a thing, they whores (Whores)\nPussy so good, need more (More)\nLet me get in those drawers (Drawers)\n5-0 in the corner store, he heard all them claps with a round of applause\nSpit at your back and you lie on the floor\nRat-a-tat-tat and you gon' see the Lord\nBitch like horse, X In her pores\nWant more sex, all in her jaws\nMolly!\nYou might also like\nKill a motherfucka with the Magnum .44\nFind a chump slumped, nigga, magnum on the road\nBody full of bullets when they found him on the road\nLay a fucker down, spray it at him then reload\nThis that Fergenstein and I be down to let it go\nSemi or the tech, spray it at him then reload\nThis that Fergenstein and I be down to let it go\nSemi or the tech, spray it at him then reload (Fergie!)\n\nI'm grippin' the Mac and you under attack\nSpit at your back and you taking a nap\nNo heart a be pumping, your body relaxed\nYou talk to me dumb and that's how I react\nOne arm in the air like I'm waving a cab\nThe 9 is a bitch and she making it clap\nI'm palming a 5th like I'm giving a dap\nBe ready to scrap when you talk to the Trap (My condolences)\nYou are now talking to a boss, Lou Bang still ride in the Porsche\nTwo thou' for the grill they cost, white gold teeth, no floss\nYoung Trap Lord like Doss, two bitches in the crib, no drawers\nShe rocking the mic with her jaws, I call that bitch Nicki Minaj\nShe pop one pill no cough, when shit get real she spark\nGivenchy my bitches bought, smoke that life 'til you niggas see God\nGetting head in the foreign cars, get the head from the foreign broads\nHasta la vista, se\u00f1or, pussy ass niggas a see Allah (Fergie!)\nKill a motherfucka with the Magnum .44\nFind a chump slumped, nigga, magnum on the road\nBody full of bullets when they found him on the road\nLay a fucker down, spray it at him then reload\nThis that Fergenstein and I be down to let it go\nSemi or the tech, spray it at him then reload\nThis that Fergenstein and I be down to let it go\nSemi or the tech, spray it at him then reload (Fergie!)\n\nSo it's like, \"Fuckin' Problems,\" platinum (Bling, bling)\nLongLiveA$AP number one album in the country (Bling blaow)\nSold out tours, what's next? Trap Lord\nLet these motherfuckers have it, let 'em know we not playing this year\nThe limb's never been so relaxed, ever, heheh\nIt's lonely at the top; all this shrimp, nobody to share it with\nWe ain't trippin' though, heheheheh\nY'all walkin' 'round with wrinkled silks, looking crazy, nah mean?\nPay your dry-cleaning bill and all that (pay that, pay that)\nCause it's like, it ain't even a competition no more, hahahahahah"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsHood Pope Lyrics\nOhh, let me sing my song\nIf you feel this shit, mothafucka sing along\nOhh, this the Hood Pope\nChain hang low, red rubies and the gold\nOhh, young Trap Lord\nFeel your pain, I be down for my people\nOhh, drinking Jesus juice\nJeans hang low, rare rubies and the gold\nAnd we sip, cause we hurting\nPull a chrome fifth when they murk them\nThen murk off in Excursion\nAll cause a nigga be lurking\nBig money shit we earning\nA bunch of hooligans need churching\nI'm the Hood Pope, these my children\nAnd I'll be their Donnie McClurkin\nGold teeth when I'm smirking\nBunch of little kids running 'round need nurturing\nLord know that I ain't really perfect\nAll of these clowns run around this circus\nLord please, what is my purpose\nBesides fucking these Persians?\nPopping these bottles and popping these models\nPlease tell me where is the Sherman\nAnd I'm smoking my weed, put me in my zone\nDemons chasing me, cause they want my dome\nAnd I carry the heat, and I sleep with the chrome\nCause I'm in some beef, and they want my dome\nYou might also like\nOhh, let me sing my song\nIf you feel this shit, mothafucka sing along\nOhh, this the Hood Pope\nChain hang low, red rubies and the gold\nOhh, young Trap Lord\nFeel your pain, I be down for my people\nOhh, drinking Jesus juice\nJeans hang low, rare rubies and the gold\n\nGod say \"Son, you don't wanna go down\"\nNow you praying in that trap when you hear that gun sound\nGod say: \"Son, you don't wanna go down\"\nNow you praying in that trap when you hear that gun sound\nGod say: \"Son, you don't wanna go down\"\nNow you praying in that trap when you hear that gun sound\nGod say: \"Son, you don't wanna go down\"\nNow you praying in that trap when you hear that gun sound\n\nAnd they told you, told you time again\nThat ain't you gon' find your friends\nYou talking about you riding with them\nAnd fighting with them, those ain't your friends\nYou dying, lying on cement, momma be crying \"Don't take him!\nGotta be trying but he sin, I promise he won't, ever again\nGod, he was a little child, he was a good kid for a while\nHe found the streets and then it got wild; God, I promise, never again\nGod, he is my only child, please awake him so he smiles\"\nBut all she hear is lonely sounds, now he won't talk ever again\nOhh, let me sing my song\nIf you feel this shit, mothafucka sing along\nOhh, this the Hood Pope\nChain hang low, red rubies and the gold\nOhh, young Trap Lord\nFeel your pain, I be down for my people\nOhh, drinking Jesus juice\nJeans hang low, rare rubies and the gold"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsLord Lyrics\n\nI ain't never had shit\nNot a pot to piss, window to throw it out of\nSherm got me high, get your ass in the shower\nTook one pull, shit, told her it wasn't sour\nHit a double drum chant getting louder\nChant getting louder (Louder)\nMulan bitch wanna fuck for an hour\nStart sucking dick, bitch, enough of the powder\nCome fuck with this bougie nigga\nCome fuck with this bougie nigga\nHigh fashion, Ksubi nigga\nYou fuck with them booty niggas\n'Cause you fuck with them booty niggas\nNow Fergie all up in your groupie, nigga\nReincarnation of Master Fard\nElijah Muhammad reside in my heart\nDiss and I'll blow, and shouts from Allah\nKnowledge was born with science, young lord\nTripping yourself is no valish, young lord\nStudy your scriptures and follow your God\nLife in the trap I know times will get hard\nI'll pick up your life, just abide by the Lord\nYou might also like\nAbide by the Lord\nAbide by the Lord\nAbide by the Lord (Alright!)\n\nYou 'bout to get it from a general, I don't know if they can hear me though\nDon\u2019t you niggas ever bother tryna see me, I'm a criminal\nOh Lord, once he's in the sight of a scope\nI'ma let them have it when I sever\nDamn, he wants to make me set it off\nI'ma bury you motherfuckers without a coffin\nNever taking no shorts, we never taking no losses\nWhen you're dealing with my crew, A$AP, Bone, yeah, we bosses\nAnybody with a bone to pick\nNow when I level my charge, I'm damn sure to make it stick\nYou must be looking to suffer, well I'ma make it quick\nGotta train load of 'ish that\u2019ll make ya sick\nI'm here to wipe 'em out quicker than a pandemic\nBone came original, not a gimmick, can you dig it?\nHell yeah they can dig it while I'm sitting on my throne\nSteady laughing at you niggas trying to get it (Get it, get it)\n\nMan, I'm runnin 'til the end of this and I don't give a fuck if I was 86'd\nA muthafucka play me like I'm Canibus\nI'm ready for the battle like I'm takin' Diz\nI'm never gonna take it in and nobody can break it in\nAs-salamu alaykum for the bacon and a little bit of coke\nI put the cake in and it's certified dope\nHaving anything to do with it, we selling every rock that they can smoke\nSo take a toke and I'ma rake it in, Pillsbury the dough\nTo the dome like I'm seeking through the soul\nLike I'm peeking through the soul\nBut I'm reekin like our reefer, rather keep up with her, go straight to the dro\nCreeping on 'em, peeping on 'em, leave 'em in the zone\nThey don't even really know\nLooking on 'em, keeping on 'em, taking every foe\nFor the love of the money, I gotta reap in what I sow\nBut I keep it what I know for the ending of the row, gotta go, will I go?\nWhen I get it I'ma know to follow my known foe\nKnow Cali and know Coe, my caliber lock and load\nAlabaster box when I cock and I crow\nGot a Glock and I'm Bone Thug, where you wanna flow?\nTo the clock and the time zone\nSpirit gon' fly, all y'all niggas dead to the life force cyclones\nRight now when they hydro\nWhat about the well known Cairo?\nGot 'em stuck in the grave\nI'm on the grind full time, never rest to get paid\nA little hustling mothafucka put the brush to the face\nI cut the braids, hit the stage, now they looking amazed\nI went from cooking the yay to hundred thousand dollar shows\nGot a booking today and I'ma split it with my bros\nGotta get it how we go, come meet me with the pros\nNo, I'm never gonna fold, watch the bank account grow\nIf it ain't about dough, then it ain't about jack\nAnd I'ma take it like I want it, I ain't giving it back\nI get us in with a stack and then I get on attack\nI'm like the Tasmanian Devil, nigga bigger than Shaq\nCall the reaper, get the shovel, I'm a certified rebel\nIn a league of my own and that's a whole nother level\nNothing's free, I never settle, keep the pedal to the metal\nWhen them haters in my rearview, hello, hello\n\nBurn! Baby, let it burn, now it's my turn\nI get in a nigga's system like a hundred vials of sherm\nAnd then I kill 'em with two thousand words in two minutes\nYou never heard another nigga spit it like my niggas\nYeah, but you heard 'em try to get it but they couldn\u2019t get it quicker than the realest\nMan, they thinking they can deal with this and knock me out my rhythm\nBut I\u2019m never gonna be the fuckin' victim\n'Cause I\u2019d rather be the suspect, haven't I given them enough yet?\nCan't they understand they ain't dealing with a punk bitch?\nOne quick move and it's murder\nAnd I'ma serve a nigga exactly what he deserving\nA$AP, but wait a minute\nI'm prolly one of the sickest niggas that ever did it, I'm in it 'cause I'ma win it\nI'ma mothafuckin' lyrical tyrant, pivotal giant of this shit\nAnd I do way more than just twist the words\nYou better listen and observe how I rip the verb\nNiggas get the nerve to run up on me but my shit's superb\nI\u2019ll probably hit a nigga once 'fore he hit the curb\nSo get at me, I'm kinda trigger happy\nWhen it come to shootin' my gift, I'm like a .44 magnum, stag one\nBackin' em up, body bag full of niggas' wack raps\nThat\u2019s wack so I'm stacking em up\nKray Jack in the cut, still got a little bit of murder for 'em\nMurderous poet, I create a bloody murder poem\nSo when they run up on me, nigga, be ready to show em\nRedrum, redrum, redrum, redrum, rum rum rum rum\nYo, before this project\nWe\u2019d like to thank the Most High\nOn behalf of the A$AP Mob, Bone Thug and all in attendance\nKnowing that all things belong to those\nFor the cleanliness and the power, the first in the nation\nTo prove who they are\nThrough infinity, through eternity, through time span\nStanding, one man, if you hold my hand, hold my hand\n(Make sure it's a hand)\nWith all things around me, I will never win\nI won\u2019t win with angels, I won\u2019t win with the brothers\nI won\u2019t win with Rome, I won\u2019t win with Sodom and Egypt\n(I keep a corpse close to my home)\nLet us roll, tell them why we did what we did, if we did\nIn Jesus name, Amen"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsPersian Wine Lyrics\nGentle Jesus, meek and mild\nLook upon his little child\nPity my simplicity\nAllow me to come to thee\nLord Jesus forgive me for my sins\nMake sure that you take care of my family, my mom\nGod bless my dad\nLook over me and my niggas, Amen\n\nA$AP murder clan, ride with the mob\nTwinkle in the eye 'cause you ridin' with a star\nRebel all black and we dyin' for the cause\nKeep your hands down when you talkin' to a boss\nSee Lou Banga ridin' in a Porsche\nBet that nigga teeth look better than yours\nAll gold slugs and I don't need to floss\nYoung Trap Lord, might die on a cross\nGold link chain swing down to my balls\nBout to rule the world, gettin' signs from the Lord\nLord say \"Ferg, damn you my boy\nWanna be on top? Nigga, it's your choice\"\nI don't give a fuck, I'ma ride with my niggas\nRight on the block, gettin' high with my niggas\nHigh to the sky, puff lye with my niggas\nDrunk drive with my niggas, I'ma die for my niggas, uh\nYou might also like\nI'ma ride for my niggas\nTote crime for my niggas\nPull a .9 for my niggas\nDrunk drive with my niggas\nGet high with my niggas, uh\nProvide for my niggas\nGet high with my niggas\nPuff loud with my niggas\nTo the sky with my niggas\nI'ma die for my niggas\nI'ma ride for my niggas\nTote crime for my niggas\nPull a .9 for my niggas\nDrunk drive with my niggas\nGet high with my niggas, uh\nProvide for my niggas\nGet high with my niggas\nPuff loud with my niggas\nTo the sky with my niggas\nI'ma die for my niggas\n\nGet in your skin, like a dermatologist\nBunch of dirty niggas who ain't never been to colleges\nFuck your hypothesis, I be on that rider shit\nBang him over the head, I bet that shit'll silence him\nMargiela stallion, bitches be Italian\nGod pray for me, I know my daddy smiling and\nI'm gon' make you proud, save me a cloud and when\nI make it to heaven you'll be by my side again\nBless all my violent friends, they don't know right\nAll they know struggle pain all of their life\nWashing down pain with that purple and Sprite\nMurder death kill nigga fuck your side\nUh, cause D Ferg got the fuckin' toast\nUh, cause A$AP fuckin' do the most\nUh, with the .9 in my 40 Belows\nRidin' to the club with a snub nose\nI'ma ride for my niggas\nTote crime for my niggas\nPull a .9 for my niggas\nDrunk drive with my niggas\nGet high with my niggas, uh\nProvide for my niggas\nGet high with my niggas\nPuff loud with my niggas\nTo the sky with my niggas\nI'ma die for my niggas\nI'ma ride for my niggas\nTote crime for my niggas\nPull a .9 for my niggas\nDrunk drive with my niggas\nGet high with my niggas, uh\nProvide for my niggas\nGet high with my niggas\nPuff loud with my niggas\nTo the sky with my niggas\nI'ma die for my niggas\n\nOur Father who art is in heaven, hallowed be thy name. A$AP. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive them that trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil for thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsMurda Something Lyrics\nA$AP Ferg, Waka Flocka (Alright!)\nFerg, Flocka!\n\nSome say I'm possessed, that's why Christ on my chest\nI'm from the Southside so I throw up the S\nDisrespect, I lay you to rest\nBoy you ass, you softer than breast\nBloody murder, I lay you to rest\nAim for the head ain't no need for a vest\nCan't nothing protect you from this tec\nStreet educated, no use for G-Tech\nNiggas be talking but really don't want it\nPut shells in your stomach, like pussy, you wet\nFlocka like Rambo, I stay with the ammo\nTest me, that's a gamble like Russian Roulette\nI stay with them commas, I been through the drama\nYou going to war, you better invest\nFuck is a K? I ain't impressed\nGot thousands of shooters I pay just to flex\n\nNiggas say I'm real, bitches say I'm hot\nDisrespect the Mob or Squad, then you gettin' shot\nWe don't dial 9-1-1, we don't fuck with cops\n1-8-7 to the fuckin' ops\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nYou might also like\nAin't afraid to murda something\nPut 'em in a hearse or something\nI'm thinking you niggas is sweet\nLike a Starburst or something\nGet 'em a purse or something\nMight get 'em in church or something\nWe heard the deacon speaking\nI'm Donnie McClurkin frontin'\nI smell pussy, them niggas hurt your cousin\nAll my people say \"Stomp!\" like I'm Kirk or something\nPut 'em in the dirt like \"Work\" or something\nHe get on my nerves so fuck him\nYou turn ass like Tahiry when I pressed your buttons\nAnd that was no diss, niggas quick for discussion\nY'all quick for the tweeting, y'all quick to be tumbling\nHow about a Vine, two clips to your spine\nAnd Instagram pics of me dumping\nI'm feeling your bitch so I'm fucking\nI skeet-skeet like it's nothing\n\nNiggas say I'm real, bitches say I'm hot\nDisrespect the Mob or Squad, then you gettin' shot\nWe don't dial 9-1-1, we don't fuck with cops\n1-8-7 to the fuckin' ops\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nIt's a homicide, a bloody murder\nAll my niggas down to murder\nI'm finna get buck and start bringing the burner\nNow I'm beating that ass like Ike did Turner\nYou sit in a box, you sleep in a hearse\nWherever you from, that's my turf\nFergie Ferg and I'm putting in work\nYoung Flocka Flame gon' put 'em in the dirt\nSipping on the Henny and a nigga go berserk\nCouple bitches gave me brain, then I skeet on they skirt\nYeah Ferg, you nasty\nPay attention, focus on what we came for\nGot the drop on a nigga, got the info\nSoon as I hop out then go click-clack, then go bang\n\nNiggas say I'm real, bitches say I'm hot\nDisrespect the Mob or Squad, then you gettin' shot\nWe don't dial 9-1-1, we don't fuck with cops\n1-8-7 to the fuckin' ops\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something\nAin't afraid to murda something, ain't afraid to murda something"}
{"text":"Shabba! Him deh yah (Yeah, first)\nS and a H and a A, double-B and a A, R-A-N-K-S\nAlways the best (A$AP Mob, fly the flag)\nA$AP Mob (Always), do the job, fly the flag (Yeah, fly the flag)\nLawd ah mercy (Lawd ah mercy), people\n\nSay my name a likkle louder (Yah)\nHolla out mi name mek I rip up the crowd ah\nSay it 3 times if a me unu proud ah\nShabba! Shabba! Shabba!\nOh man, say it a likkle likkle louder (Yeah)\nHolla out mi name mek I rip up the crowd ah\nSay it 3 times if a me unu proud ah\nShabba! Sha-Shabba! Shabba!\nHey, holla out mi name, jump to mi name (Shabba, Shabba, Shabba)\nCall out mi name, bawl out mi name (Shabba, Shabba)\nNah stop until it reach hall of fame (Shabba)\nSeh yuh body waan Shabba know de same (Work)\nPeople, holla out mi name, jump to mi name (Shabba, Shabba, Shabba)\nCall out mi name, bawl out mi name\nNah stop until it reach hall of fame\nAnytime mi spit, mi spit flame\nAh me dem in need of, true crowd pleaser\nTurn non-believer, inna believer\nCome crowd a people follow di procedure\nMi no Rakim but \"Follow The Leader\"\nHead ah go jump off ah fool dem shoulder\nChop off dem head with mi cleaver (Sha)\nFrom Jamaica right back to Geneva (Geneva)\nShabba Ranking ah true crowd pleaser\nYou might also like\nSha-Shabba Ranks (Act work), Sha-Sha-Shabba Ranks (A$AP Mob)\nEight gold rings like I'm Sha-Shabba Ranks (Shabba!)\nFour gold chains like I'm Sha-Shabba Ranks (Yeah)\nOne gold tooth like I'm... (Juh, juh, juh, ah!)\n\nWho that stocky nigga with the grills? Trap Lord you're so trill\nI could get a new Bugatti but a nigga rather chill\nRather sit up on the block and stack it 'til I get a mill'\nWhat about them old bitches who ain't wanna give me feel?\nNow they want a make it Gucci cause a nigga got a deal\nRather double up and strap and hit a booty in Brazil\nI hit Punta Cana when shit gets so real (Juh, juh, juh) (Alright!)\nTwo bad bitches in my vehicle\nYellow hood rats like Pikachu (Yeah)\nHit it from the back got 'em screaming like \"ahh!\" like Yeezus do (Alright!)\nBringing rappers from the dead like Jesus do\nCan't call them bone thugs cause they eating dude (Yeah)\nI bust-a-rhyme and flip-mode, speak the flu\nNigga Ya Ya Ya, eat ya crew\nButter pecan, Puerto Rican, be freakin' the deacon'\nA hood pope get good throat, I'm skeetin' the sheets\nShe feelin' my team, I asked her if she feelin' The Weeknd\nCause a nigga like she give head while you're singin' (Hmm)\nI'ma get the bread while I'm breathin'\nI'm the rookie of the year and you better believe it (Yeah)\nI be barkin' like a Que like I'm very collegiate! (Juh, juh, juh!)\nLike I'm Pedigree eatin'\nMeetin' up the plug at a QuikTrip (QuikTrip)\nYoung nigga had to make that money back flip (Prr)\nI'm trappin' with accuracy (Accuracy)\nGold on my toilet like Master P (Shine)\nLil' mama, she drunk off a daiquiri (Ah)\nShabba Ranks, my pinky finger, please (Shabba!)\nYou mad cause you workin' at Mickey D's (Jah!)\nYoung nigga, I'm flexin' like Hercules (Flex, flex!)\nYou can take her to the movie and go watch a film (Watch a film)\nA$AP Ferg, front me a pelican\nLean, lean, lean, that's my medicine\nQuavo, old money, Sega Genesis\n\nTakeoff got ten gold rings, bling, bling, bling (Bling)\nFor tryna take my rings, gun go bang (Pwf)\nCashed out on the jeweler, ching\nGot 'em feelin' like Martin Luther King, I had a dream (Had a dream)\nActavis, I only sip\nAnd begin with a beam by extending my clip\nIf I see the police, grab my chips and I dip\nSnapping my fingers, we fillin' arenas (Shabba)\nI flip up the Hannah Montana in real (Rawf)\nI feel like that Keyshia Ka'oir\nThat double AK-47's, they aim at your lip\nVersace, Givenchy, this shit is ridiculous\nShabba!\nLook, nigga, get it straight, you could never fuck with my clique, boy\nAww shit, quick, hit you with the dropkick jaw (Ah!)\nBone break, you can see the way the clock tick, tock, tick\nFunny all these niggas stop, bitch boy (Ah)\nBust' Rhymes back up in the cockpit, spit toxic, always givin' niggas hot shit, boy (Juh)\nNiggas see me shinin' 'til he's sick, sick, sick\nAny bitch really want Islam dick, boy\nSo much jewelry, nigga lookin' priceless out here\nA lot of rappin' niggas lookin' lifeless out here\nKill 'em 'til they say a nigga triflin' out here\nAnd you can let 'em talk, you know who the nicest out here\nVroom, vroom, vroom! Bite dust pussy\nBetter get low when you hear de shot buss, pussy\nEvery time I come here, know I body niggas fully (Huh)\nGodfather with it while I murder little rookie\nAnd I'm bigger than your shorty though her pussy kinda bushy (Oh, oh!)\nFuckin' on the low, Versace logo on the hoodie (Yes)\nAirhorn blow, my nigga, bwam bwam bwam\nLet it go, you already know what's really goodie (Goodie, goodie)\nKillin' shit like I'm some kind of cancer\nBag your bitch, now she my private dancer\nI don't understand why niggas feel like they have to ask who the god is\nWhen you know what's the answer\nChokehold shit 'til they be callin' me strangler (Yeah)\nHundred million dollars, safe behind the plasma (Okey, okey, okey)\nProper with it, 'til he spread the propaganda\nAnd when I TEC talk, can we pop your man up\nOn my Sha-Shabba Ranks (Oh!), on my Sha-Shabba Ranks, nigga\nGettin' so much money, it's like I just robbed a bank, nigga\n\nSha-Shabba Ranks, Sha-Sha-Shabba Ranks (Ah)\nEight gold rings like I'm Sha-Shabba Ranks (Yeh)\nFour gold chains like I'm Sha-Shabba Ranks (Ah)\nOne gold tooth like I'm Sha-Shabba Ranks (Juh-juh)\nSha-Shabba Ranks, Sha-Sha-Shabba Ranks (Damn, damn!)\nEight gold rings like I'm Sha-Shabba Ranks\nTwo bad bitches like I'm Sha-Shabba Ranks\nOne gold tooth like I'm Sha-Shabba Ranks\n\n(Shabba Ranks, Shabba Ranks, Shabba Ranks)\nShabba Ranks\n(Shabba Ranks, Shabba Ranks, Shabba Ranks)\nSha-Shabba Ranks\n(Shabba Ranks, Shabba Ranks, Shabba Ranks)\nShabba Ranks\n(Shabba Ranks, Shabba Ranks, Shabba Ranks) (Damn, damn!)\nSha-Shabba Ranks"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easMove Ya Hips Lyrics\nIt's that time again\nFrankie motherfuckin' P\nFergie, come out and play\n\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be\u2005leavin',\u2005she tell me\u2005to stay (Ooh)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen\u2005I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Skrrt)\nMove your\u205fhips,\u205fokay\nWhen\u205fI be leavin',\u205fshe tell me\u205fto stay (Ooh)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Yeah, yeah, yeah, go)\n\nDiamonds all on my gums (Gums, yeah)\nTalkin' my shit, I got runs (Got runs)\nHole in my jeans like I'm Grunge (Grunge)\nFuckin' that bitch in the buns (Buns)\nShe suck on my dick 'til it's numb (Yeah, numb)\nPockets is fat like The Klumps (Klumps)\nRappers is lookin' like lunch (Yum)\nI'm makin' a meal when I munch, woo (Let's go, woo)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leaving she tell me to stay, ooh (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nGot a new loft in Harlem\nNo, Fergie ain't move to LA, woo (Ferg)\nBurberry on my collar, ooh\nDiamonds, they sit in my face, woo (Ah)\nYou don't want no problems, ooh\nFrankie P set 'em ablaze, ooh (Ah)\nYou might also like\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Ooh)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Skrrt)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Ooh)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Yeah, yeah, yeah, go)\n\nAll of you bitches is food\nIf you the opps, you gon' be singin' the blues\nFeelin' like Bishop in Juice\nWord to my dude, this Jimmy Choo on my shoes\nAll of my niggas is makks\nThis is a fact, this ain't no cap app\nAll of my bitches is bad, word to my dad\nThey know we get to the bag\nMove my hips, okay\nTell him to go, then I tell him to stay, hey\nBaby, it's okay\nI have been havin' one hell of a day, yay\nSaint Laurent all on my shades\nThen I pull up in a cherry Mercedes, yay\nStrawberry shortcake hair\nChinese bangs with my two braids, ayy\nStraight from outta Queens, headed to Harlem now\nI got the panda mink on and it's growlin' now\nAlready bodied \"Plain Jane\" and we mobbin' now\nThat's 'cause all these fake niggas try to rob my style\nYo, these bitches really be slow, tell 'em I'm Billy the G.O.A.T.\nI'm gettin' that dough, my neck and my wrist really glow\nMy model bitch all up in Vogue\nAll up in Vogue, pardon my Versace robe\nStreak in my hair like I'm Rogue\nNigga, you know, you better not tip on your toes\nThey grippin' the 40 below (Ah)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Ooh)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Skrrt)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Ooh)\nMove your hips, okay\nWhen I be leavin', she tell me to stay (Yeah, yeah, yeah, go)"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsDreams, Fairytales, Fantasies Lyrics\nYeah, ah\n\nI call you gata\u201a 'cause you's a wild cat\nYou leave me with a big\u2005neck\u2005scratch when I\u2005hit it from the back\nPillow under\u2005your stomach\u201a you like it like that\nThey catch you half-sleep so you can't fight that\nWe go for hours\u201a fuck in the shower, pussy devour\nForeplay in the kitchen, bend it over the counter (Mm)\nYou taste like candy\u201a I eat it like Sour Power\nYou be likin' it rough, your body soft as a flower (Yeah)\nAnd when we finish, you be holding me (Yeah)\nGot your head on my chest\u201a you consoling me (Yeah)\nQuick to close the blinds when I'm hitting that\nBut I'm hoping you leave it open, so they know it's me (Damn)\nFrom the beginning, you said it was mine\nAnd I can tell the way you said it that you weren't lying\nYou see me text her (Yeah) like, \"Baby, you fine\"\nAnd I can still feel the tingle up and down my spine\n\nI'm in a dream, fairy tale, fantasy when you're around me (Ooh)\nI must be losing my mind\nDream, fairy tale, fantasy when you're around me (Ooh)\nI must be losing my mind\nYou might also like\nYou know you belong to me\nYou can bring your whole squad plus three\nYou don't like to get told what to do\nBut you like it when I put you on a leash\nAll fours for me, on the floor for me\nHave you scratching walls, parkour for me\nAnd every night, I'll hit it right\nI'ma bring you on tour with me (Yeah)\nYou the one for me\nAnd even if you're wrong for me\nIt's a good mistake, even when I'm wide awake\n\nI'm in a dream, fairy tale, fantasy when you're around me (Ooh)\nI must be losing my mind\nDream, fairy tale, fantasy when you're around me (Ooh)\nI must be losing my mind\n\nUh, oh, this song feel like new pussy, makin' it gushy\nHeartthrob of the projects, spandex and a hoodie\nTimbos and your baby father was a bimbo (Yeah)\nHeads know, rather be bothered with all of them hoes\nWe could fly to Jamaica, fuck all the haters\nI take you out of the projects, mansions with elevators\nWe can drive and hit the city in Lambo\nThen lay down on the beach and watch the sand blow\nHave you ever spent money without a worry?\nShopped 'til we dropped, Celine bags and Burberry\nBathin' suits, Chanel boots for dinner time\nBaby, we looking good, so you know we finna shine\nThen hop back in the villa to get up in her\nFireplace when it's winter, we fuckin' on the chinchilla\nYou fuckin' with a winner, the heavy spender\nYou know it's me, I'm tryna bring out the freak in you like Jodeci\nI'm in a dream, fairytale, fantasy when you're around me (Ooh)\nI must be losing my mind\nDream, fairy tale, fantasy when you're around me (Ooh)\nI must be losing my mind (Ooh)\n\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsFergivicious Lyrics\nYeah, a lot of you people look at me like\n\"Who the fuck this nigga think he is?\"\nLord Ferg the Second, the Fergenstein\nAll the trap lordians stand up, yeah\n\nHi! I'm Fergivicious\nTo a bunch of bitches, man, I'm Fergielicious\nRiding with a bunch of little trap villains\nTurn it up, leave yo ass on the ceiling\nFuck your opinion nigga, I be killing\nHippy white bitch on the penicilling\nGetting all the bad bitches I been feeling\nThink a nigga trapping? Yeah, I'm drug dealing\nHit her with the crack pipe get her lifted\nTake a little sip-sip of my drip-drip\nFuck a little trill bitch 'til my dick limp\nI love the way you lick-lick on my dick tip\nRiding in the Bentley, you in a Civic\nFuck your main broad 'til she on my friend's dick\n4-5-6, yeah, my niggas tripping\nShout out to the max and my niggas' Cripping\nA$AP Q, yeah, my nigga cripping\nMarty Baller macking, yeah, he Blood dripping\n5 point star for a thug nigga\n'bout 2 keys for the snow sniffing\nWhite gold teeth cause a nigga don't sleep\nNightmares of being broke cause I'm seeing no cheese\nBitch coming at me cause I'm dropping no fees\nShe can get up on a nigga for about a couple G's\nYou might also like\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\n\nHey, Joyde! Hi, twin!\nThinking 'bout my goddamn father again\nWhy he couldn't see a nigga in Medusa lens\nWhy he couldn't see a nigga cop his first Benz\nWhy he couldn't see a nigga pop his first band\nOnly bitches love me tryna get up in my pants\nRiding in a limo with a bunch of fake friends\nWho be only around me cause I make ends\nI feel the pain for my bro cause his dad died\nMy daddy gone too, my nigga, that's life\nBut them niggas did it up in they past lives\nMo\u00ebt with Crystal nigga, that's right\nBet them niggas dressed up in them white suits\nRhythm and the blues in a white coupe\nSpit it through a cloud with a nice boo\nDaddy, Anna-Nicole probably like you\nAhh, I'm so vicious\nRiding in a coup with a bunch of killas\nAre you gangbanging, man? I couldn't see it\nLike twisting up your fingers in a pair of mittens\nPut 'em in the water with a bunch of fishes\nWatch a frog leap were his fucking chin is\nAre you Popeye? Eat your fucking spinach\nBunch of young Trap Lords and we down for sinning\nA$AP Soul, that's my fucking nigga\nYoung Tarzan, that's my little nigga\nCrawling in them bitches like a caterpillar\nThe bitch can't be all in my Hilfiger\nFlacko Jodye, he a trill nigga\nTwelv' the good goon be that real nigga\nNasty Baby want to kill a nigga\nAll us together the illest niggas\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own\nAll I know is pain\nSurviving on my own"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsMattress REMIX Lyrics\nMattress, mattress, mattress (Uh)\nMattress, mattress, mattress, mattress (Uh)\nMattress, mattress, mattress (Alright)\n\nCame a long way from the mattress (Yeah)\nBoy, I used to jump on the mattress (Hey, yeah)\nAnd I used to hump on the mattress (Yeah)\nMy grandma kept the gun in the mattress (Hey, right)\nMy uncle kept O's in the mattress (Yeah)\nFlippin' the work like gymnastics (Hoo, yeah)\nPitchin' the crack, it do backflips (Hoo)\nPo-po was flipping the mattress (Hoo, yeah)\n\nPsycho gun in the mattress (Right)\nGrandma pass it and he blast it (Right)\nI came on your bitch, I'm a savage (Right)\nShe stretchin' my dick like elastic (Alright)\nShe made it disappear like magic (Alright)\nBed bugs crept in the mattress (Yeah)\nCame a long way from the mattress\nUsed to lay on a rug like Aladdin (Yeah, hoo)\nYeah, huh, now I'm like King Tut (Tut)\nYou cuffin' that bitch but she smuttin' (Yeah)\nShe fucked the whole block, I ain't bluffin' (That's right)\nTrap Lord meaner than a mug (Mug)\nWake the niggas up like Folgers in a cup\nTec go buh-buh\nDon't ever let it get fucked up\nYou might also like\nCame a long way from the mattress (Yeah)\nBoy, I used to jump on the mattress (Hey, right)\nAnd I used to hump on the mattress (Right)\nMy grandma kept the gun in the mattress (Alright)\nMy uncle kept O's in the mattress (Yeah)\nFlippin' the work like gymnastics (Hey, right)\nPitchin' the crack, it do backflips (Right)\nPo-po was flipping the mattress (Oh)\n\nDid backflips on the mattress\nDid mad shit on the mattress\nWhere the magic happens? On the mattress\nTwo ratchet fat chicks on the mattress (Woo)\nA nigga stashed G's in the mattress (Woo)\nFuckin' all they bitches on the mattress (Uhh)\nBendin' all these bitches over backwards (Yeah)\nLSD and the acid (Yeah)\nWrote mad rhymes on the mattress (Right)\nFuck mad times on the mattress (Right)\nOnly thing in my Margina mattress (Right)\nCause I came mad times on the mattress (Right, woo)\nKing size bed full of ashes (Alright)\nShe smoke on my dick and don't pass it (Right)\nI fuck mad dimes on my mattress (Hoo)\nYeah I fuck mad dimes on my mattress (Woo)\nAss fat but her titty plastic (Yeah)\nWhat can I say, man? I'm a jiggy bastard (Hey)\nPretty motherfucker, I think I should join a pageant (Yeah)\nFor the salad, put a hole in his cabbage (That's right)\nNiggarace, new Versace 'Preme or the Palace (Buh)\nFuckin' models, Flacko always schemin' on the talent (Buh)\nCover of your favorite magazine and I'm stylin' (Buh)\nFuck a horse-face bitch, but her body like a stallion (Fucked Up)\nShe swing on my dick like she Tarzan\nCall me Coach Cartier cause I'm ballin'\nMy stones look deformed like retarded\nWhat's the name? Those Balmain? How you call it?\nShe suck on my dick while I'm yawnin' (Alright)\nShe missin' the D, now she moanin' (Yeah)\nHer ass fatter than Action Bronson (pause)\nShe top me like top of the mornin'\nNiggarace told me to, oh shit (Uh, right)\nNiggarace told me, give me Rocky (Uh)\nCause you know it's Flacko Jodye, icy papi (Yeah)\nWhile you watchin', copy, niggas copy copy\nI ride down, sloppy toppy (Alright)\nWhen she love a nigga mane, we them niggas now (Uh)\nInternational, had em going wild (Yeah)\nTrap jumpin' nigga, block bumpin' nigga (Uh)\nCame a long way from the mattress (Yeah)\nBoy, I used to jump on the mattress (Hey, right)\nAnd I used to hump on the mattress (Right)\nMy grandma kept the gun in the mattress (Alright)\nMy uncle kept O's in the mattress (Yeah)\nFlippin' the work like gymnastics (Hey, right)\nPitchin' the crack, it do backflips (Right)\nPo-po was flipping the mattress (Oh)\n\nBig bankroll in the mattress (It is)\nBitch bad, make it do a backflip (Bitch)\nI fuck that bitch, make her hair twist (A-what)\nHunnid band cash in the mattress (What)\nWait, momma said, \"Boy, fix that mattress\" (Uh, mama)\nRich nigga, they gon' put me on the Forbes list (Rich)\nI get that money, ain't boring (What)\nI'mma fuck her on the couch while you snorin' (What)\nWait, I get that money, what happened?\nRun up on me, choppa flip 'em like mattress\nMy bitch fuck her on the cabinet\nShe can get a mattress, I just shook a bitch, what happened?\nHuh, sorry, you lackin'\nBust in her mouth like a napkin and she callin' me captain (Dexter)\nOff-White be the jacket (It is)\nFifty-thousand on the backend (Yeah)\nI fuck that bitch on the mattress (Brr)\nShe suck my dick on the mattress (Brr)\nAll of my bitches the baddest (Yeah, bad, bad, bad)\nI walk in that bitch and the cameras they flashing\nI heard you just walked in with catfish, what?\nAll of my bitches look- ayy\nAll of your bitches look average\nI fuck that bitch on the mattress (Wha)\nI got the Glock in the mattress (Yuh)\nI got the guap on the mattress (Wha)\nWhat, what, what\nCame a long way from the mattress (Came a long way from the mattress)\nCame a long way from the mattress (Came a long way from the mattress)\nCame a long way from the mattress (Came a long way from the mattress)\nCame a long way from the mattress\n\nCame a long way from the mattress (Yeah)\nBoy, I used to jump on the mattress (Hey, right)\nAnd I used to hump on the mattress (Right)\nMy grandma kept the gun in the mattress (Alright)\nMy uncle kept O's in the mattress (Yeah)\nFlippin' the work like gymnastics (Hey, right)\nPitchin' the crack, it do backflips (Right)\nPo-po was flipping the mattress (Oh)"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsWhat Do You Do Lyrics\nWhat do you want? (What do you want?) Cut my grass low, see the snakes, all in my lawn (In my lawn)\nTell me what you want (Yeah), got a party inside my trunk (In my trunk)\nWhat do you want? (Yeah) All my haters mad that I'm on (I'm on)\nA$AP with XO, tell me what else do you want? (What do you want?)\nWhat do you want? (What?) Is it a car (What do you want?), with the stars?\nTell me what you want (What do you want?), what do you want? (What do you want?)\nWhat do you want? (What do you want?)\nXO with A$AP, tell me what else do you want?\n\nShe lickin' the tip, she put it on her tongue\nShe smokin' my dick, she coughin' up her lung\nPlease don't run, please don't run\nShe open her leg, I eat that thing for lunch\nI get in her zone, I give her the bone, I tell her, \"Let's have fun\"\nA couple of rounds, a five to four to three to two to one\nThey come to my house, they booty bounces like it's three to one\nFeelin' my touch, fuckin' that bitch and she's lickin' my nuts\nIt's no love, ridin' that coupe 'cause she's fillin' my life\nBaby, it's my life, snakes in that grass and I tell you no lie-ie-ie\nYou ride or die tonight\nDon't tell me no lie, look in my eye\n\nWhat do you want? (What do you want?) Cut my grass low, see the snakes, all in my lawn (In my lawn)\nTell me what you want (Yeah), got a party inside my trunk (In my trunk)\nWhat do you want? (Yeah) All my haters mad that I'm on (I'm on)\nA$AP with XO, tell me what else do you want? (What do you want?)\nWhat do you want? (What?) Is it a car (What do you want?), with the stars?\nTell me what you want (What do you want?), what do you want? (What do you want?)\nWhat do you want? (What do you want?)\nXO with A$AP, tell me what else do you want?\nYou might also like\nTry to diss me and take my lean, you won't go far (Won't go far)\nGot an ounce and the hammer inside my Goyard (My Goyard)\nWent from raw papers to smokin' by the jar\nJust 'cause it's Japanese don't mean that that's a foreign car (That's not a foreign)\nGrowin' up in Southside Rexdale wasn't fun\nGiuseppe walkin', know some people on the run\nShouldn't have a clean record with the shit I've done\nI won't say shit 'cause I know how to bite my tongue (I won't talk)\nI flew Frost to L.A. when he landed, get whatever he want (Yeah)\nI'm smokin' by the pound with him, I'm smokin' by the ton (Yeah)\nGave him a diamond chain 'cause I'ma make another one (Yeah)\nSwitch your girl, she saw me in a Ghost, I asked her (Yeah), what she want (Yeah, what she want)\n\nCut my grass low, see the snakes, all in my lawn (In my lawn)\nTell me what you want (Yeah), got a party inside my trunk (In my trunk)\nWhat do you want? (Yeah) All my haters mad that I'm on (I'm on)\nA$AP with XO, tell me what else do you want? (What do you want?)\nWhat do you want? (What?) Is it a car (What do you want?), with the stars?\nTell me what you want (What do you want?), what do you want? (What do you want?)\nWhat do you want? (What do you want?)\nXO with A$AP, tell me what else do you want? (What do you want?)"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsFuck Out My Face Lyrics\nGet the fuck outta my face\nGet the fuck outta my face\n\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\n\nWho's Dr. Greenthumb? Anybody seen him?\nNot another white bitch, time for a re-run\nNeed some green sum, seen some homie\nSend you a ton but I keep some homie\nKing of Queen, the kind you blaze\nWhole team on lean on Pisa sway\nI'm ghetto and the pump got a critter all splattered\nHave another hit but I want to hit the shatter\nDabbing all night really got me faded\nTake a hit of my shit feel upgraded\nTwist that shit like your weave got braided\nChilling in the palm trees feeling real shaded\nPass that shit like a deadly virus\nShe want to hit, that's Miley Cyrus\nHit it so hard, my god, she likes this\nChange that chick's name to Miley Cypress\nYou might also like\nA$AP Fergie, A$AP Mobbin'\nBitches on my ballsack, want a nigga Martian\nAnd a Miss America, picking any target\nBitch give me long neck like an ostrich\nAston Matthews in an Aston Martin\nVroom, driving retarded\nSipping on that Crissy cause a nigga really ballin'\nHeaded to the telly with a bunch of Kelly Clarksons\nThey love that I'm from Harlem\nThey love to see a broad and\nAnother broad and kiss and massage 'em\nGive them booty shots might Nicki Minaj 'em\nDont let 'em get me hard then\nTell they friend give me jaws like a shark fin\nYou'll play Halle Berry in Monster Ball and\nI'll be Trap Lord Billy Bob Thornton\n\nOh shit, who let these Hulk Hogan hoes in with nose and chest open?\nThat water hose got us sipping, that Molly Maid got us dripping\nOk, I get that A$AP, A$AP\nTake naps from the K clap, I'll bring it where you lay at\nGang colder than the face off, you don't want to face that\nGot these hoes dripping out the Versace, 4-4's keep the 4's off\nFour boats so the hoes drop and that rose gold keep the dome sloppy\nHaaan, molly party, molly party\nThem bitches know it's a molly party\nDodging cases cause I'm dropping bodies\nNumber one stunner, camouflage Hummer\nNose job, had to paint it white for the summer\nI'm a hit stick drummer, heavyweight\nTriple H, Hall of Fame head hunter\nMinivan gram Van Dam, hand in hand in the Trans-Am\nChoppas all test tap dance, Hammer Time Ham dance\nPut that pussy on a handstand\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\n\nYeah, better get the fuck out my face with all that\nOr get a broken beat down with a baseball bat\nFerg said call a nigga ASAP back\nOh, just looking for his baseball bat\nI'm a thug with a baseball cap\nGot a bad bitch slim waist from the back\nAss ain't fat but her face all that\nOh, she like to fuck in my baseball cap\nI'm a CB-GB, Crazy Baldhead Grimy Bastard\nYou a BG-GB; Bitch that's Gonna Get Blasted\nSo don't set trip cause I love to trip\nMy niggas trip, acid\nI don't give a fuck if it's fake or real\nThose titties coulda been plastic\nOfficial Nast', my gang's official\nMad faced niggas with anger issues\nHundred mad niggas got a gang of pistols, blaow\nNow, how the fuck can a stranger miss you?\nMy whole set, ganged up\nPlay yourself get ya banged up\nSuicide, you get hanged up\nShe done fuck the crew, she got ganged up\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nI'll pull the heat out my mothafuckin' waist\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nI'll pull the strap out my mothafuckin' waist\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face\nGet the fuck out my mothafuckin' face"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsFloor Seats Lyrics\nCoo-coo, damn\n\nFloor seats for the Knicks\nCouple models blow a kiss (Huh)\nThey don't even want a pic\nWanna lick up on the (Yeah, yeah)\nI done made a couple hits\nGoin' hammer with the Bic (Huh)\nGod handed me the gift\nNothin' slammin' for a brick (Yeah, yeah, right)\nRollie ain't got a tick (Tick, tick, tick)\nI attract a lot of ticks (Huh)\nGettin' caught up in the mix (Hoo)\nHollywood, same chicks (Right)\nDidn't know that I'd be doing this (Yeah)\nWent to school for paintin' pics (Huh)\nNow I paint the bigger pic (Coo-coo)\nSee, I'm really with the shits (Damn)\n\nWe all grinded for the floor seats\nNow all of the pretty girls, they know me\nI'm on a jumbotron, you can't ignore me\nJust look at my seats, I'm sittin' cozy (That's right)\nWe all grinded for the floor seats (Huh)\nNow all the pretty girls, they know me (Coo-coo)\nI'm on a jumbotron, you can't ignore me\nJust look at my seats, I'm sittin' cozy (Hoo, hoo, hoo, oh)\nYou might also like\nTiffany store on Fifth\nI'm performin' with the glist' (Huh)\nAll the glist' up on the wrist\nWaterfall, not the drip (Yeah, yeah)\nMontage with a bitch\nMassage with her tits (Huh)\nHit the 'Gram with a pic\nWhole computer catch a glitch (Yeah, right)\nThey say I remind 'em of Rich (C'mon)\nRichard Porter with the chips (Huh)\nLookin' like I caught a lick (Woo)\nYou a hater, just admit (Right)\nYou niggas be owin' like Rick (Yeah)\nI put you on to this shit (Huh)\nI was born in this shit\nI'm the don of this shit\n\nWe all grinded for the floor seats\nNow all the pretty girls, they know me\nI'm on a jumbotron, you can't ignore me\nJust look at my seats, I'm sittin' cozy (That's right)\nWe all grinded for the floor seats (Huh)\nNow all the pretty girls, they know me (Coo-coo)\nI'm on a jumbotron, you can't ignore me\nJust look at my seats, I'm sittin' cozy (Hoo, hoo, hoo, oh)"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsChoppas on Deck Lyrics\nMedusa faces turn me into stone\nVersace killers and Raf murdering Dior Hommes\nMy skinny niggas fuckin' bring the chrome\nThe only thing I'm killin' is a microphone\nNow let my little niggas take you home\nOne straight to that dome\nBetta ring the alarm, Fergy's home\nEver taste the chrome? Way far from a silver spoon\nSing your lullabies, watch your mother and your brother cry\nFuck your sister brains, causin' mental homicide\nMotherfuck' your life, fuck your family nigga, fuck your wife\nI be down for life (A$AAAP), my brothers for life\nBig money, talk to me knots\nTalk to me nice or don't talk to me at all\nGrippin' that Mack now he grippin' the floor\nRatatatat\u2014let it split through your jaw\nLaid on your back, whisperin' Lord, bet he couldn't see his death\nBerettas under the leather he couldn't see this Tec\nTeflon vest for those who test\nA bunch of niggas gettin' throwed call me Jazzy Jeff\n\nI got these choppas on deck\nAnd the 9 is on deck\nAnd the llamas on deck\nJust in case you ain't heard what I say\nI got these choppas on deck\nAnd the 9 is on deck\nAnd the llamas on deck\nJust in case you ain't heard what I say\nI got these choppas on deck\nAnd the 9 is on deck\nAnd the llamas on deck\nJust in case you ain't heard what I say\nI got these choppas on deck\nAnd the 9 is on deck\nAnd the llamas on deck\nJust in case you ain't heard what I say\nYou might also like\nI'm drowning these niggas, no coroner with me\nInvite 'em in water like formula 50\nI'm pipin' your daughter, muhfucker come get me\nOne clip to that brain, gone in a jiffy\nI'm poppin' your dame, cum on the titties\nBeef lo mein, all in her shrimpy\nOodles and noodles, hangin' out his fitted\nSomebody done died, who knows who done did it?\nSomebody gon' ride, bang em with the Smith and\nNines men in black, I will Will Smith him\nSemi-automat', brattttt it would lift him\nPreacher gon' sang, momma gon' listen\nHe was on that bullshit, Jordan or Pippen\nSo I had to pull shit, feeling so tempted\nRocks on his socks, Shawshank Redemption\nSomebody gon' die, who knows who done did it?\n\nI got these choppas on deck\nAnd the 9 is on deck\nAnd the llamas on deck\nJust in case you ain't heard what I say\nI got these choppas on deck\nAnd the 9 is on deck\nAnd the llamas on deck\nJust in case you ain't heard what I say\nI got these choppas on deck\nAnd the 9 is on deck\nAnd the llamas on deck\nJust in case you ain't heard what I say\nI got these choppas on deck\nAnd the 9 is on deck\nAnd the llamas on deck\nJust in case you ain't heard what I say"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsLet It Bang Lyrics\nNow like I was saying\nI used to go into muh'fuckin', um, Bomber's Club on Convent\nWith slacks and shoes on, with the TEC-9 on\nJust - you know what I'm saying? Just scoping out for a bit\nYeah Psych, you used to have the TEC with the good pants?\nYou know, we was just hungry like that\nToo tired of shooting in the air cause I can't get my way and shit\n\nGrandma hid that hammer in her mattress from my uncle\nHe would listen to Wu-Tang 'fore walkin' in the jungle\nArmy fatigue jacket, kitchen knife, hope he don't cut you\nWith a deuce-deuce up in his boot in case he get in tussles\n\n(And he will!) Let it bang, let it bang, let it bang\n(And he will!)  Let it bang, let it bang, let it bang\n(And he will!) Let it bang, let it bang, let it bang\n(And he will!) Let it bang, let it bang, let it bang\n\nLightpost workout, how he turned out\nGranddaddy tried to help him but he burnt out\nHe screamed, \"Lazy fucker, won't you try to get a job?\"\nBlock party where the hoochies turned out\nThey would dance and sweat they perm out\nIf they scream, \"We got beef\" he would handle with no prob\nCologne and liquor was his odor, fragrance of a ridin' soldier\nODB was his persona, he was high on Mars\n40 ounce and then some marijuana\nWhen grandma died from pneumonia\nNow his life a roller coaster, put that shit on God\nYou might also like\n(And he will!) Let it bang, let it bang, let it bang\n(And he will!) Let it bang, let it bang, let it bang\n(And he will!) Let it bang, let it bang, let it bang\n(And he will!) Let it bang, let it bang, let it bang\n\nUhh, bruh, I miss my crackhead uncle\nSold him dope in by the bundles\nDraw down on him, his own gun though\nFuck about family, where's my Hundo?\n'Fore my clip go knock-knock zero\nFake nigga talkin' 'bout Q ain't real\n18 slangin' that Coupe Deville\nYoung nigga, young nigga move that dope\nYoung nigga might get killed\nCuz ain't payin' my bills, heat make the beef get grilled\n12 years clutchin' that steel\nPop a nigga more than them pills\nPistol under sheet when I sleep\nBody niggas like I do beats\nI ain't talkin' bout my uncle, this me\nMade another million this week\nSwagger make a Bentley look cheap\nI'm the reason why your momma OD'd\nI'm the reason why your homies ain't deep\nNow you wanna talk about peace\nPimpin' bitches all in these streets\nWonderin' why you rubbin' her feet\nIf you got high off what I sold\nHow his teeth platinum when he on shit row?\nBig belly ballin' like I'm still gettin' throwed\nLeave a nigga flat 'til his body get towed\nSad that the curtain got closed\nLeave him with a hole in his skull\nLet it bang, let it bang, let it bang\nLet it bang, let it bang, let it bang\nLet it bang, let it bang, let it bang\nLet it bang, let it bang, let it bang\nUh, yeah"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsDoe-Active Lyrics\nThey mad, they mad\nThey mad, why they mad?\nThey mad, and they mad\nThey mad, they mad\nThey mad, they mad\nThey mad, and they mad\nYou mad, you and you mad\n\nI'm ballin', ballin', I'm shot callin'\nGotta brush the gold grills when I wake in the mornin'\nYou can smell that champagne when a nigga be yawnin'\nAnd I'm straight shittin' on you cause it's lyrical on it\nGot a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\nI got a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\nI got a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\nI got a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\n\nI got a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\nThen I looked at your mama like damn your sons a disgrace\nI got a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\nI'm tryna clean my house, I walkie talkie my maid\nI got a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\nThis shit make no sense, I got taste\nGirls come to my house to have an orgy parade\nI just hit 'em like this and leave 'em horny for days\nMy daddy said I'm a prince, now I'm a king\nHe sacrificed and went to Heaven, now I'm livin' his dream\nYou gotta walk like this, you gotta talk like that\nI talked this shit into existence, now my stacks on racks\nI got stacks on stacks, stacks on racks\nRacks on top of stacks and stacks on top of them racks\nMove like that on them cats, you move like that and get smacked\nI wipe a hundred on my momma, I'm using that like Proac'\nYou might also like\nI got a hundred dollar bill to get the bump off your face\nI got a hundred dollar bill to get them bumps off your face\nI got a hundred dollar bill to get them bumps off your face\nGot a hundred dollar bill to get them bumps off your face\nUse these hundred dollar bills to get these bumps off your face\nNow use these hundred dollar bills to get these bumps off your face\nI got a hundred dollar bill to get these bumps off your face\nGot a hundred dollar, got damn\n\nNow I'm lookin' through the window and the sky's so blue\nLookin' through the window and my grass' so green\nLookin' through my window, hold on I know you\nHollup, is that Adam Levine?\nAdam Levine, I got a hundred\nAdam Levine, I got a hundred\nAdam Levine, I got a hundred\nAdam Levine, I got a hundred\n\nI'm ballin', ballin', I'm shot callin'\nGotta brush the gold grills when I wake in the mornin'\nYou can smell that champagne when a nigga be yawnin'\nAnd I'm straight shittin' on you cause it's lyrical on it\nGot a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\nI got a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\nI got a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face\nI got a hundred dollar bill for every bump on your face"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsCocaine Castle Lyrics\nEverybody going to this cocaine castle\nYou'll probably see your reverend at this cocaine castle\nPimps and prostitutes at this cocaine castle\nDoctors in their suits at this cocaine castle\nBabies in they Pampers at this cocaine castle\nCrying with they grandma at this cocaine castle\nMomma doing drugs at this cocaine castle\nTryna get some buzz at this cocaine castle\n\nAll another day in the crack house, where demons be talking to fiends\nCouple hits and they blackout, needles be stuck all in their veins\nAu revoir, sing a song that be stuck all in your brain\nThat shit so potent, it'll have you doing devilish things, yeah\nTake a walk through the dark side, where a nigga don't see no light\nOne hit is all I need, that nigga gon' take your life\nWhat about your wife? What about your kids?\nWhat about your crib? What about your moms? What about her tears?\nWhat about that shit? What about your uncle? He died last year\nFrom the same thing, you kissed that glass to hide your fears\nThis is what it bring, nothing to your life, you die, you die\nBasing your life upon the hope that you gon' get the same high\n\nEverybody going to this cocaine castle\nYou'll probably see your reverend at this cocaine castle\nPimps and prostitutes at this cocaine castle\nDoctors in their suits at this cocaine castle\nBabies in they Pampers at this cocaine castle\nCrying with they grandma at this cocaine castle\nMomma doing drugs at this cocaine castle\nTryna get some buzz at this cocaine castle\nYou might also like\nI remember when I was, when I was lit the fuck up\nI was, I just, I just, I just remember that day\nI remember what it feels like\n\nTripping off this weed got a nigga slow motion\nChills all over my body like some cold lotion\nTryna wrestle demons like I'm fucking Hulk Hogan\nLooking for the cure but I'm seeing no potion\nTryna sleep it off but it only gets worse\nSeems like my whole life fucking been cursed\nDevil tryna get me in this fucking paradise\nFucking all these bitches raw just to roll the dice\n\n\nWhy you in my dreams?\nWhy you in my dreams?\nWhy you in my dreams?\nWhy you all in my dreams?"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsMad Man Lyrics\nTear the club up\nTear the club up\nTear the club up\nTear the club up\n(What you know, I mean?)\nTear the club up\n(What you know? Nigga, A$AP, nigga)\nTear the club up\n(Man, this, nigga, this A$AP, nigga, I don't give a fuck)\nTear the club up\n(Nigga, stop all that, stop all that goofy shit, fool)\nTear the club up\n(Nigga, still smoking Jitt pack, I don't give a fuck)\n(Ayy, stop all that goofy shit)\nThis for all you player-haters who be talking this\n(Fuck y'all, nigga, fuck your squad, nigga)\n(Honorable C.N.O.T.E)\nAyy (Hey)\nAyy (Ayy, yeah)\nAyy, ayy, ayy (Yeah)\n\nSpent 50K on the Rollie\nJust bought that shit and my bitch broke it (Right)\nShe sayin' she ain't even notice (Yeah)\nBut her pussy wet like the ocean\nAyy, ayy (Swim, swim, swim)\nAyy, ayy (Margiela madman!)\nMaster Bruce, yeah, I'm the coldest (Right)\nMaster Bruce, yeah, I'm the coldest (Yeah)\nMargiela and that Rick Owens (Right)\nI'm fucking her friend and she know it (Yeah)\nMargiela (Yeah), bad (Yeah)\nMy jewelry stone cold like Steve Austin\nDon't cuff on no bitch, we just toss 'em\nMillionaire, still live in Harlem (Yeah, uh)\nBury your hood\nRight in your local bodega\nFergie gon' bark like Omega\nThis ain't no game, ain't no SEGA\nEven though that beef old, I don't care\nI will not fuck with the Raiders\nSecond deal out with Adidas\nFergie done got him a sneaker\nMaking a bitch sing like Aretha\nI'm fucking your bitch when you eat her\nYou cuffing that bitch like you need her\nYamborghini with Aaliyah\nRest in peace until I see ya\n(Margiela madman!)\nYou might also like\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nPoppin' these pills in my coupe\nI'm on the roof\nMove like I'm Batman (Yeah!)\nUm, damn, what? Margiela madman (Right!)\n(Margiela madman!)\nOoh, ooh, ooh\nThese niggas they stealing my flow, talking 'bout, huh?\nBoy, I'm stealing your ho\nTaking your ho to the pad\nShe getting lit\nShe tryna suck on the dick\nShe wanna suck on the dick\nShe wanna suck like a tick (Ayy, yeah, shh, what? Huh, uh, what?)\nSuck like a tick\nSuck on this shit\nGet on the clique (Yeah!)\nGet on the clique\nGet on your knees, pray for the dick (Right!)\nPray for this shit\nPray for my clique\nPray for my niggas (Yeah!)\nOoh, ooh, I got my hand on the trigger (Yeah!)\nI got my hand on her pussy\nAll of these niggas they pussy (Right!)\nHe run away like a wuss\nI got the paper like books\nI can't pull up, bitch, I'm booked\nWalked in that bitch and the bitches, they looked\nAll of these niggas, these niggas they shook\n29 hop in the tub\nWash my lil balls while I make a lil call\nNigga, fuck your squad\n(Margiela mad man)\nA$AP, nigga\nThis for all you player-haters who be talking this\n(Honorable C.N.O.T.E)"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsJet Lag Lyrics\nYeah, uh\nYeah (Yeah)\n\nCeline bag (Woo), got a lot of chips (Yeah)\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch (Right)\nCeline bag (Woo), got a lot of drip (Yeah)\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch (That's right)\nCeline bag (Right), got a lot of chips (Yeah)\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch (Woo)\nCeline bag (Yeah), got a lot of drip (That's right)\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch (Grr)\n\nYeah\nUh, yeah\nThat's right\nHoo-hoo, damn\n\nRollin' down the window, got two Asians with me (Yeah)\nLivin' a fast life, my uncle prayin' for me (That's right)\nPeople losin' in this game, this shit is fatal to me (Yeah)\nSee them turnin' on they brothers, shit like Fredo to me (Woo)\nI just pulled up in the Benz and I'm feelin' like the goat (Yeah)\nI just woke up on your bitch, I pick 'em eeny, miny, moe (That's right)\nI got chips with a lot of drip, comin' by the load (Yeah)\nPrada trench, too legit, 30,000 dollar coat (Grr)\nTiffany give me diamonds, that's a different kind of glow (Yeah)\nGot bitches like Frankie Lymon, that's a different kind of ho (Yeah)\nCame a long way, used to try to work at Club Monaco (Hoo)\nHittin' the stage, covered in sauce, 100,000 dollar show (Hey)\nGoin' guerilla, Fergie Ferg that nigga, count my checks (Hey)\nShe on a nigga, wanna get up in my chinchilla flaps (Hey)\nHer ass is realest, she ain't got no silicone up in her breasts\nI was born to do this shit, I see my dad up in the light (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nCeline bag, got a lot of chips\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch\nCeline bag, got a lot of drip\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch\nCeline bag, got a lot of chips\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch\nCeline bag, got a lot of drip\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a\u2014\n\nMade a lot of millions off a plain Jane (Yeah)\nBen and Billy on the track, we do the same thing (Right)\nRose gold, pink diamonds in my ring-ring (Yeah)\nGot a bitch from Crenshaw and she gang bang (That's right)\nBlood walkin' and she listenin' to YG (YG)\nShe scream, \"I dare a motherfucka try stop me!\" (Try to stop)\nShe a ghetto bitch, I fuck her in Versace (In Versace)\nAnd then I took her to Philippe for shrimp and broccoli (Shrimp and broccoli)\nPut in work, a nigga lookin' awky (Grr)\nDiamonds blingin' called me Niggarace (Yeah)\nNiggas wanna, but they cannot copy (Cannot copy)\nI paint the biggest picture but they try to crop me (Cannot crop me)\nI'm on a newer level, high-key (Yeah)\nStill be walkin' through your block to get a chopped cheese (C'mon)\nTurn a Honda to a Masi' (Yeah)\nYou my son, my baby boy, go get Taraji (Hoo-hoo, grr)\nCeline bag, got a lot of chips\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch\nCeline bag, got a lot of drip\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch\nCeline bag, got a lot of chips\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a bitch\nCeline bag, got a lot of drip\nGot jet lag 'cause I'm flyer than a\u2014"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsNasty (Who Dat) Lyrics\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya (Migos, Ferg)\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, yeah\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nWho dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who\nWho dat, who dat, who dat tryna get up in my crew?\n\nYour bitch been a fan while she hittin' my jack\nAnother deal with Adidas 'cause I'm feelin' like that\nNow, now I just blow the money, got 'em swimmin' in cash\nI don't even throw the money, sit the brick on her ass\nYour bitch been a fan while she hittin' my jack\nAnother deal with Adidas 'cause I'm feelin' like that\nNow, now I just blow the money, got 'em swimmin' in cash\nI don't even throw the money, sit the brick on her ass\n\nAll these bricks and money I been stackin'\nAll these dollars bustin' through the plastic\n1800 got me blastin'\nI'ma keep the money comin', keep dancin'\nTonight I fell in love with a stripper\nFerguson can be her last name\nWho dat, who dat, who dat on your Insta?\nInvite her to my crib, we gettin' nasty\nYou might also like\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, yeah\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nWho dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who\nWho dat, who dat, who dat tryna get up in my crew?\n\nStars in the ceilin', Wraith top\nWho that rich motherfucker named Takeoff?\nBad bitch ass soft, beat her face off\nLawyer Jewish, 'bout that paper, knock that case off\n(Quavo) Ice shine bright, one hell of a night (Ice)\nOnce I hit it one time, bet I make her swipe (Cash)\nBeat the pussy, Ike, Mike Tyson bite (Woo)\nEarly A.M. on the red-eye flight\nA1 dope, nigga can't forget the steak sauce\nSame hoes everywhere I go, Nate Dogg\nWe run from the red dog, pick up when that bag call\nFlew to New York 'bout that thread talk, put on when Ferg call\n(Blrrt blrrt!) Hello, what's up? Yeah, it's my brother Ferg\nDouble park that Bentley (Skrrt) on the Harlem curb (Brr)\nI can flip a pigeon and a dirty bird (Brrr)\nChopper with precision, you better mind your business\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, yeah\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nWho dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who\nWho dat, who dat, who dat tryna get up in my crew?\n\nAll these bricks and money I been stackin'\nAll dollars bustin' through the plastic\n1800 got me blastin'\nI'ma keep the money comin', keep dancin'\nTonight I fell in love with a stripper\nFerguson can be her last name\nWho dat, who dat, who dat on your Insta?\nInvite her to my crib, we gettin' nasty\n\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, yeah\nAy, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya\nWho dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who dat, who\nWho dat, who dat, who dat tryna get up in my crew?"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsTrap And A Dream Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\nPray to the trap\nPray for the trap\n\nSend them niggas to the Hood Pope\nMy synagogue right in the ghetto\nOff the dome, I'm killin' niggas\nBut the pen game on a different level\nOne trap with a big dream\nI go hard, won't ever settle (Frankie motherfuckin' P)\n\"Go in for the kill\" what they taught me\nBoy I'm movin' that Shark Tank\nIn this bitch like I'm Clark Kent\nGot a deal with the devil like y'all say\nIt's for the love of the money, what y'all think?\nFuck a wack bitch what I won't do\nMake a bill with these vocals\nAnd the Pro Tools, thought I told you\nPedal or metal, I try to slow down but I can't\nFuckin' yo bitch and she kissin' the dick\nAnd I'm startin' to feel like I'm Tank\nChasin' the commas on commas\nEmbracing the drama that come with the fame\nPut that on my momma, the llama\u2019ll\nHit ya designer and pardon your brain, so stay in ya lane\nHuh, yeah, I'm fuckin' your bitch in a park\nI bust in her mouth cause she parched\nShe throwin' it back with an arch\nYou cuffin' that bitch like a narc\nOoh boy I don't wanna start\nTwo birds on my boat, I'ma start\nI'm kinda like Noah's Ark\nI am leaving this Earth with a mark\nI ain't got time for you marks\nI aim at your head like a dart\nHe lay on the street with a chart\nSpike on his head like he Bart\nI'd rather be chasin' the cream\nTrappin' and trappin', I never be slackin'\nI'm countin' a million a dream\nYou might also like\nTrap and a dream, trap and a dream\nI had a trap and a dream, trap and a dream\nOne trap and a dream, trap and a dream\nI wanna make a hundred million when I hit the scene\nTrap and a dream, trap and a dream\nI had a trap and a dream, trap and a dream\nOne trap and a dream, trap and a dream\nI wanna make a hundred million when I hit the scene\n\nUh, yeah\nTrap and a dream, uh, Mac with the beam, yeah\nLeft Hollywood, damn, back to the fiends, woo\nPull up in my hood, skrrt skrrt, Maybachs on the scene, hoo\nIn the back like a spleen, hoo, hunnid racks in my jeans, aw yeah\nKnow a couple niggas want me dead in my hood\nDo some charity, I put some bread in my hood\nPussy niggas snitchin', got the feds in my hood\nIt's like all the real niggas really dead in my hood\nI been runnin' it up, fuckin' it up, plenty\nHop out the spur, jump in the truck, Bentley\nNeosporin, I'm in the cut, chilly\nMask on, mask off, reppin' my set, Philly\nI got thirty-six O's, we gone put it on a roll\nThat boy silent, never told, fuckin' models out the Vogue\nAnd I rock a lot of gold, all these diamonds on me froze\nI called papi for the low, he gon' drop it, Lord knows\nI got a\nTrap and a dream, trap and a dream\nI had a trap and a dream, trap and a dream\nOne trap and a dream, trap and a dream\nI wanna make a hundred million when I hit the scene\nTrap and a dream, trap and a dream\nI had a trap and a dream, trap and a dream\nOne trap and a dream, trap and a dream\nI wanna make a hundred million when I hit the scene"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsYammy Gang Lyrics\nLido, talk to me!\n\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' rob when you fuckin' with the Mob\nHit 'em in the jaw\n\nAll of my niggas bi-polar, lean in the pour up\nMix it with Xan now you tore up\nRunnin' with my gang, bumpin' that Keef in the hoop\nIt's motivatin' my soldiers\nDon't keep the gun in the holster\nHide it in Tommy, hopin' they don't pull you over\nCoppers on the block, tappin' on the Motorola\nGotta keep the fuckin' beeper on you\nAll of my killers is ridin' with me for the night, yeah\nFlacko just hit me like he just landed from Dubai, yeah, yeah, yeah\nSee what's in the club, what bitches is fuckin' tonight, yeah\nIs it you, you or you, you?\nIf your man talkin' shit then I shoot, like doot-doot-doot-doot\nYou might also like\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot, all of my niggas' gon' riot\nWe gon' mob\nAll of my niggas' gon' riot\nBlat-blatka-blat-blat\n\nYammy Gang Gang, say my name five times\nCandymane-mane-mane-mane\nBitches on my hotline bling\nThank you BasedGod, brang-dang-dang-dang\nMe and Pac fuck the same hoes\nBeat the pussy like the Wayans Bros\nBang-bang-bang-bang like Chiefy Sosa\nFlocka with the fuego\nRun at any case, money be the case\nMurder be the case, better call the lawyer\nTry to beat the case, try to flee the states\nCry to immigration, nigga thought I told you\nNut on her face, bought her shades\nI pull up, pull all on her face, pussy get murdered every day, bruh\nYammy Gang, Yammy Gang, Yammy Gang (Gang)\nYammy Gang, Yammy Gang, Yammy Gang (Blat-blatka-blat-blat)\nYammy Gang, Yammy Gang, Yammy Gang\nMy niggas set it on any man\n2016, we got bigger plans\nI might go bleach in that boo pack\nI might go Hova, don't talk to me\nYeezus, Jesus walks with me\nLast year bein' broke\nIf you ain't talkin' money, don't talk to me\n\nYamborgini High, diamonds in the rain, made the hall of fame\nProsper be the gang, always gotta strive, I could never change\nWord to Yams, I'll smack a nigga in his skinny pants, yeah\nHigh as hell, man I'm fly as well do the Diddy dance\n\nYeah, Yamborghini Gang\nYammy Gang, this the A$AP Gang\nHahahah\n\nThis is for all my beautiful people around the world\nMy son was a genius\nI wanna continue his legacy"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsRubber Band Man Lyrics\nYou already know what it is, Hood Pope (Killa!)\nDipset (A$AP!)\nWe runnin' this shit\nNone of y'all niggas can fuck with us\n(Word to god!)\n\nRubber band man got the pocket with the bankroll\nCall me Stunna Man, diamonds shining like the rainbow\nRunnin' this shit, you can call me Usain Bolt\nYeah, you can call me Usain Bolt\nRubber band man got the pockets with the bankroll\nCall me Killa Cam, diamonds shining like the rainbow\nRunnin' this shit, you can call me Usain Bolt\nNigga, you can call me Usain Bolt\n\nTwo model bitches with me asking for a sugar-free Red Bull\nMix it with the Tito's now they walkin' with that dead look\nCoke up in they nose, that's why their nostrils got that red look\nHip-hop police saw me, jiggy nigga make the Feds look\nI just brought a Rollie and my bitches broke the bezel\nWhen you make it this far, certain niggas try to test you\nStill live up in Harlem, rich nigga in the ghetto\nYeah, rich nigga in the ghetto\nYou might also like\nRubberband man got the pocket with the bankroll\nCall me Stunna Man, diamonds shining like the rainbow\nRunnin' this shit, you can call me Usain Bolt\nYeah, you can call me Usain Bolt\nRubber band man got the pockets with the bankroll\nCall me Killa Cam, diamonds shining like the rainbow\nRunnin' this shit, you can call me Usain Bolt\nNigga, you can call me Usain Bolt\n\nKilla, Killa, Killa, Killa\nKilla, Killa, Killa, Killa (in front of the Waldorf)\nKilla, Killa, Killa, Killa\nKilla, Killa, Killa, Killa\n\nYo, in front of the Waldorf, valet said that he's sick of us\nI mean he just can't get wit' us\n\"What's the problem playboy? It's only six of us\"\n\"Yeah, with twenty-five cars, this shit's just ridiculous\"\nThought we was inconspicuous\nHe said, \"Yeah right nigga, y'all meticulous\"\nTwenty-five to life, at one time I was risking it\nTen-digit nigga, old life I ain't missin' it\nLook at me, baby girl, you should just lick a bit\nBend down, real low, my zipper come unzipping it\nYeah, I think I really love her 'cause she started kissin' it\nI mean, she really started kissin' it\nRubberband man got the pocket with the bankroll\nCall me Stunna Man, diamonds shining like the rainbow\nRunnin' this shit, you can call me Usain Bolt\nYeah, you can call me Usain Bolt\nRubber band man got the pockets with the bankroll\nCall me Killa Cam, diamonds shining like the rainbow\nRunnin' this shit, you can call me Usain Bolt\nNigga, you can call me Usain Bolt"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsJa Rule Lyrics\n\nFlyer than a motherfuckin' propeller\nPretty bad bitch that's old yeller\nFinna fuck a clip out for fellas\nGet it crackin' on a bitch like a old leather\nToupee'd on a bitch like an old fella\nSouffle on a bitch cause my dough better\nUsed to go to Mickie D's with no cheddar\nNow my chauffeur I get fuckin' so feta\nNow let's go to Sue's Rendezvous\nMost of your crew be strange dudes\nTwo bitches like d\u00e9j\u00e0 vu\nBlowin' that skunk like Pep\u00e9 Le Pew\nMake it hot in here like Nelly\nMake her side burn like Ashanti's 'do\nMurderin' Ink like I'm Irv Gotti\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule\n\nSing like I'm Ja Rule\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule\n(Where would I be without my baby?)\nSing like I'm Ja Rule\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule\n(Where would I be without my baby?)\nSing like I'm Ja Rule\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule\n(Where would I be without my baby?)\nSing like I'm Ja Rule\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule\n(Where would I be without my baby?)\nYou might also like\nIt's the player you heard of, the young and assertive\nI came from the dirt up, and did the unheard of\nHoes say I'm the man, mm-hmm I concur it\nI'm young and perverted\nIf I don't get the pussy or the payment, what the fuck is the purpose?\nDon't call on my phone, unless you're the fam or my girl\nI'm a just say it's no service, stay connected as cursive\nI bet if you put my name on it that I make it bigger\nShe saying she wanna take a picture, I let her take a picture\nBut don't send it to me 'less it's fuckin naked pictures\nFeel me, I'm into safe sex-y, latex-y, rubber stretch-y\nGood weed, no stress-y\nYou can get your broke bestie, show your chesties\nTell your boyfriend to stay off my testes, lil' bitch\nWhat he tryin' to say?\nMake that 9 shake, pump up the crime rate\nPump up the value, make that bitch vibrate\nPump up the alcohol on the hydrate, she thirsty\nAnd that's a damn shame\nRed bone, white money, blue dream that's my campaign\nI order Hors d'oeuvres, roll up more herb\nI hit it, I bust, and throw it to Ferg, for sure\n\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule, hah\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule bitch\nAha, Sean Don, A$AP Mob nigga\nSing like I'm Ja Rule\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule\n(Where would I be without my baby?)\nSing like I'm Ja Rule\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule\n(Where would I be without my baby?)\nSing like I'm Ja Rule\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule\n(Where would I be without my baby?)\nSing like I'm Ja Rule\nFuck around and sing like I'm Ja Rule\n(Where would I be without my baby?)\n\nBaby, what would I be without my baby?\nWhat would I be without my baby?\nWhat would I be without my baby?"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsPups Lyrics\nArf, arf, arf\n\nWhere my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\nWhere my dawgs at? (Right here, dawg)\nWhere my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\nNow where my dawgs at?\n(Frankie Mothafuckin' P)\n\nI said get at me\nI'm talkin' to you niggas with that rap beef\nGet at me\nOstrich-skin seats like it's acne\nGet at me\nNever tacky, jeans made by Acne\nFuck Governor Pataki and Patakis\n\nIt's about to get uglier than Balenciagas\nFelt bad I never finished college\nNow we fuckin' cuties with booties in Dapper Dan silk pajamas\nLivin' the dream, open up your eyelids\nMe and Flacko on a island with a few bad bitches\nHow my cousin make a mil' off a du-rag business?\nAll my dawgs with the shit, you with a few cat litters\nAll the yellow with the black like the Wu back (Su)\nYou might also like\nBack when I was rentin' beds, I was still catchin' head\nIf I was bussin' dishes, I'd be still fuckin' bitches\nBoof pack, gift wrapped just like Christmas\nGone for a minute, now I'm back, did you miss me?\nHad the whole Harlem World wearin' Under Armours\nUnder the armors, I'm a pretty mothafuckin' comma\nGorgeous comma, pretty much about to fuck your mama\nKinda runnin' late for this meetin' with Obama\nI ain't mean it to rhyme, but call me when your mind right\nMeet me with your romper, CC me when the vibe right\nMore money, more problem, more chopper, more drama\nAnd I got these hoes, feelin' like Mo Bamba\n\nWhere my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\nWhere my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\nWhere my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\nNow where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\n\nWho gon' do what? My dawgs gon' tool up\nNigga, look out, 'cause look down like one, two, fucked\nAnd we don't give two fucks\nWhere I'm from, you lunch, you food\nNiggas called your bluff\nPockets Warren Buffett, security guard too buff\nI like my songs screwed up\nI own a gold toothbrush, I get my gold tooth buffed\nI'ma stomp a nigga out in Timberland nubuck\nYoung Buck, too buck, Benz truck, new truck\nBig horns, tuba, more good than Cuba\nThey tried to hit us like Huey with the armpits up\nBut we swerved through the bullets, get your targets up\nHood Pope up in this bitch, in Trap Lord we trust\nNow where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\nWhere my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\nWhere my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\nNow where my dawgs at? (We right here, dawg)\n\nI said get at me\nI'm talkin' to you niggas with that rap beef\nGet at me\nOstrich-skin seats like it's acne\nGet at me\nNever tacky, jeans made by Acne\nFuck Governor Pataki and Patakis"}
{"text":"50 ContributorsPsycho Lyrics\nUhh, yeah\nUhh, yeah\nUhh, it was all at the park, yeah\nCologne and liquor was his odor (Uhh, yeah)\nThe fragrance of a riding soldier (Uhh)\nODB was his persona\n(I've seen a lot of bullshit, go down at the park)\nOh, you want the power, don't ya?\n\nI got an uncle and his name Psycho\nHe had a dance and they scream \"Go, Psycho!\"\nHe would dance, work out and fight yo' ass at the park\n(For the bills, for the hundred dollar bills)\nAnd he got two sisters preggo\nHe fucked the other one to get one jeal-o\nAnd he took both kids to the ghetto ass park\n(On the hill, shit'll get really real)\n\nHe used to have the braids with the cuts in his body\nMost thugged out, kept the hammer with his mami\nGrandma had the arthritis pain in her body\nKept the burner in the mattress, so her son don\u2019t catch a body\nDanced and he danced, smoked crack with his posse\nFront flipped through a building window, land in the lobby\nHe was cut like Bruce Lee but he didn't know karate\nHe came home bloody screaming, \"Nobody can stop me!\nNobody can stop me, I'm the baddest survivor on this planet\nFifty niggas better kill me, nigga, 'cause I will do damage\nChecked outta the psych ward, I am nothing to manage\nMy life cut deep, nigga I'm nothing to bandage\"\nYou might also like\nI got an uncle and his name Psycho\nHe had a dance and they scream \"Go, Psycho!\"\nHe would dance, work out and fight yo' ass at the park\n(For the bills, for the hundred dollar bills)\nAnd he got two sisters preggo\nHe fucked the other one to get one jell-o\nAnd he took both kids to the ghetto ass park\n(On the hill, shit'll get really real)\n\nWhere they be drinking forty ounces\nWith the brown paper bags for the ounces\nNo matter what day you found his ass at the park\nHungry Ham, fuck around and get killed\nWhen he got kicked out of his bitch crib\nAnd he had nowhere to li-zive\nAlways find his ass on the benches laying at the park\nAfter dark\n\nDon't get it confused Uncle Psych, I love you to death\nJust wanna get a couple of things off of my chest\nGrowing up, you always was buck-wilding with stress\nAnd though I'm older now, I don't know how to forget\nI used to wear your Timbs around the house when you left\nAnd if you had an open soda, I would finish the rest\nPretend I'm older, I like the liquor odor you left\nThen put your camouflage vest on like I'm holding a tec\nThen point it at the mirror like I'm holding your rep\nThrough that mirror wasn't me, but it was you I reflect\nWanted to be like you, jail tat on the chest\nWith the rugged cornrows and a stab on my neck\nI'll rob shit like that you know\nCause I'll rob anybody, I, I don't care\nIt was a 9 to 5 for me, you know\nIt was like a hobby to me, I was the gunman\nI was the dancer, entertainer, you know what I mean? I did it all\nLike I said I had a death wish, I'll rob anybody\nAy, hold up motherfucker, you see I'm talking, right?!"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsNew Level REMIX Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\nA$AP (Turn my vocals up a little bit more please, yeah)\nA$AP Honorable C.N.O.T.E\nYeah, a lil' bit more, yeah\nI'm on a new level, I'm on it, I'm on it (Coo-coo)\nWoo, woo, woo, ayy\n\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, yeah, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, yeah, yeah)\nBought me a new shovel (Bought me a new shovel, oh, uh)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Put these niggas in the dirt, yeah, yeah, coo-coo)\nChain with the new bezel (Bought me some new bezels, yeah)\nHoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo (Uh), ayy\n\nI'm on a new level\nRemember when mices jumpin' out the Frigidaire (Yeah)\nPo-po, they eliminate us\nThrow my people down incinerator (Uh)\nMalcolm X, Martin Luther (Hallelujah)\nJim Crow is back at it (Talkin' to ya)\nBought a gold chain (More power to ya)\nWanted more bling (But I got a Ruger)\nBrown water in my system now (Yeah)\nHenny got me in my feelings now (Alright)\nI'm feelin' like, \"Fuck the system now\" (Yeah)\n'Cause all they do is shoot my people down (That's right)\nThat newer level was the ceilin' now (Yeah)\nThey wanna kill us with division now (Coo-coo)\nI'll be damned if I'm killin' now\nI go to Sony, bring the buildin' down\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, uh)\nPump on a new devil (Pump on a new devil, yeah)\nI still got a new shovel (I still got a new shovel, uh)\nTo put you my shoe level (To put you my shoe level, that's right)\nJust know that my crew rebels (Know that my crew, yeah)\nThey put you niggas in the dirt (Yeah, alright)\nChain with the new bezel (Chain with the new bezel, yeah)\nAll my niggas put in work (All my niggas put in work, 'cause, yeah)\nYou might also like\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, yeah, uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, yeah, what? Yeah, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level yeah, what? Uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level yeah, what? Yeah, yeah)\nBought me a new shovel (Bought me a new shovel, yeah, oh, uh)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Put these niggas in the dirt, hey, yeah, yeah, coo-coo)\nChain with the new bezel (Bought me some new bezels, yeah, yeah)\nAll my niggas put in work (Uh, yeah)\n\nI'm on a new level (Yeah, what?)\nGettin' money, went up two levels (Yeah)\nNow my bars hot like a tea kettle (Tea kettle)\nShe ride my dick, I got two pedals (What? Yeah)\nBitch, I'm hot as a match (What? Ayy)\nPull up, deux Diablo, that be two devils (What?)\nHeard your girl was a freak (What?)\nYeah, but that's only if you let her (Yeah, yeah)\nPull off and mob with the new leather (Huh)\nYeah, the one with the red letters (Yeah, ayy)\nMatter of fact, you bring her, bring her, ayy (Yeah)\nDon't forget yourself too, yeah\nMatter of fact, bring your whole crew, yeah\nLil Uzi pull Lambo coupe, yeah\nNow your girl I'm gon' recruit, yeah\nBlow on me just like some soup, yeah (Like a, Lil Uzi)\nBlow on me just like a flute, yeah\nBlow on me like a loose tooth, yeah\nFirst she showed me just how it move, yeah\nI fucked that girl right 'til she mute, ayy (Yeah)\nI will not touch her, yeah\nIf it's already not two, hey (What? Ayy)\nRafi and Ricky my boots (My boots), yeah\nWent and new level my shoe (My shoe, ayy, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, yeah, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, yeah, yeah)\nBought me a new shovel (Bought me a new shovel, oh, uh)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Put these niggas in the dirt, uhyeah, yeah)\nChain with the new bezel (Bought me some new bezels, uh, yeah, yeah)\nAll my niggas put in work (Uh, yeah)\n\nOn another-nother level now\nThat's shrooms, acid, drank, weed, pills\nFresh manicure, breakin' down the bag\nDidn't even stain my clean nails (Uh)\nI bet there's some killers who die for me (Ride)\nCatch a body on they free will (Woo)\nMy West Coast niggas ride for me (Woo)\nWord to the homie G Will (Woo)\nDollar sign, dollar sign, dollar sign (Cha-ching)\nMy crib look like an exhibition now (Yeah)\nMama only riding Benzes now (Yeah)\nTraded in the Expedition now (Uh)\nMy bitches only flyin' business now (Woo)\nMy pretty face up in the Guinness now (Yeah)\nI model Dior like I'm Christian now (Uh)\nGot her masturbatin' to my pictures now (Yeah)\nTwo front gold teeth\nAll I want for Christmas is peace between brothers and police\nTwenty-four-karat gold leash on my exotic pet (Leash)\nExotic car, no lease (Lease)\nAnd I designed it, back to be flooded with diamonds (Diamonds)\nBitches, they call me Your Highness (Highness)\nSippin' on medicine (Nah), with no cough, with no sinus\nThat alarm or the sirens? (Woo)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on it, I'm on it, uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on it, I'm on it, yeah, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on it, I'm on it, uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, yeah, yeah)\nBought me a new shovel (I'm on a new level, oh, uh)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Dirt, yeah, yeah)\nChain with the new bezel (I'm on a new level, yeah, uh)\nAll my niggas put in work (All my niggas put in work, uh, right, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, yeah, yeah)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, uh, uh)\nI'm on a new level (I'm on a new level, yeah, yeah)\nBought me a new shovel (Bought me a new shovel, oh, uh)\nPut these niggas in the dirt (Put these niggas in the dirt, yeah, yeah)\nChain with the new bezel (Bought me some new bezels, yeah)\nAll my niggas put in work (Uh, work)"}
{"text":"49 ContributorsCoach Cartier Lyrics\nYeah, rainbow shine my wrist\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\nFrankie motherfuckin' P\n\nCall me Coach Cartier, call me Coach Cartier\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\nCall me Coach Cartier, call me Coach Cartier\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\nCall me Coach Cartier, call me Coach Cartier\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\nCall me Coach Cartier, call me Coach Cartier\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\n\nYour bitch gon' die for the dick\nShe spend mad time with the kid\nRainbow shot my wrist\nShe make them titties twitch\nAdidas done gave me the check\nGo to Tourneau and cop Rolex\nYour bitch obsessed\nThumb in her butt, yes!\nCome and just fuck with the set\nAnd we're buckin' the TEC, with my niggas its facts\nThey be protecting your neck\nIce bucket challenge baguettes\nThose are not Margiela\nHol' up, I'll do you one better\nRainbow shot my wrist\nWatch them diamonds glist\nYou might also like\nCall me Coach Cartier\nCall me Coach Cartier (Ah-what)\nRainbow shine my wrist (Ah-yeah)\nRainbow shine my wrist (Ah-Dexter)\nCall me Coach Cartier (Ah-what)\nCall me Coach Cartier\nRainbow shine my wrist\nRainbow shine my wrist (Ah-Dexter, ah-what)\nCall me Coach Cartier (Ah-whoa, rainbow)\nCall me Coach Cartier (Ah-what)\nRainbow shine my wrist (Rainbow)\nRainbow shine my wrist (Ah-Dexter)\nCall me Coach Cartier\nCall me Coach Cartier (Ah-what)\nRainbow shine my wrist (Ah-what)\nRainbow shine my wrist (Ah-yeah, Dexter)\n\nCall me Coach Cartier\nI get that money, them diamonds my ear\nWait, rainbow shot my bitch\nHuh, got diamonds, my diamonds gon' glisten\nWait, I'm in the trap with Ferg\nFucking your bitch and I'll tell her to swerve (I did)\nHuh, I can't trust this bitch (I do)\nRun up on me then I'm uppin' my stick\nYeah, wait, they callin' me Dexter\nYeezy my feet, I don't wear no Margielas (I don't)\nHuh, I make it rain, no umbrella\nHuh, I fuck her friend now she jealous (Ah-Dexter)\nYou know I don't care what she tell them\nI ship em off, yeah they flopping like feathers\nWait, rainbow shot my bitch (Ah-what)\nDraco by me, you know I don't miss\nDexter\nCall me Coach Cartier (Ah-what) call me Coach Cartier (Ah-what)\nRainbow shine my wrist (Yeah, ah-Dexter) rainbow shine my wrist\nCall me Coach Cartier, call me Coach Cartier\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\nCall me Coach Cartier, call me Coach Cartier\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\nCall me Coach Cartier, call me Coach Cartier\nRainbow shine my wrist, rainbow shine my wrist\nFrankie motherfuckin' P"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsEast Coast Lyrics\nYeah, I need everybody to open this shit up\nEverybody open this fucking shit up\nYeah, Constantine, yeah\n\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up\nThis that East Coast, mothafucka\nCall me Mr. East Coast, mothafucka\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up\nThis that East Coast, mothafucka\nCall me Mr. East Coast, mothafucka\n\nThis that ground zero music, sit and listen to it\nThis the children of the sewer, finally winnin' music\nThis confessions of a lord, I've been sinnin' music\nThe rap book is my Bible, just repentin' through it\nI jump in the whip and say, \"Ooh, it's my shit\"\nAnd I tell 'em to turn it up (Skrrt)\nJump in the pit and start moshing the shit\nAnd I tell 'em to burn it up\nThis is Mr. Trap Lord, I'ma go in 'til the sun is up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun 'til I fuck it up\nYou might also like\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up\nThis that East Coast, mothafucka\nCall me Mr. East Coast, mothafucka\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up\nThis that East Coast, mothafucka (Hahahahah)\nCall me Mr. East Coast, mothafucka (Remy, Ma)\n\nAnd it\u2019s 0-1, now, run it up\nGot my face beat, hair done it up\nI go bad on \u2018em, drop bags on 'em\nGot a tab, bitch; tell 'em run it up\nI spaz on 'em, I gun 'em up\nSaid I\u2019m too smart, gotta dumb it up\nDead in the middle of Little Italy\nThey ain\u2019t know Remy really could just Pun it up\nOn IG, you thumb it up\nBut in real life, you bum it up\nYou don't own nothin\u2019, you so frontin'\nYou Joe Budden, you pump it up\nSee, these hoes be luckin' up\nTry to be down, they suckin' up\nI go nuts, I mean pecan\nTurn the beat on and I fuck it up\nThe bar\u2019s low, I brung it up\nAnd y'all hoes just stunk it up\nI been one, you been done\nYou been shoulda just hung it up\nYou was hatin' when I was comin' up\nYou fake bitch, you need to woman up\nYou a wack bitch, you a rat bitch\nAnd I\u2019m that bitch, just to sum it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nFuck that shit, we get turnt \u2018til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up\nThis that East Coast, mothafucka\nCall me Mr. East Coast, mothafucka\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up\nThis that East Coast, mothafucka\nCall me Mr. East Coast, mothafucka\n\nYeah, send 'em through the ceiling\nThrow a nigga off the building\nI'll kill 'em, they'll never find out\nFuck what you feelin', Trap Lord in the building\nWith the lords and they with it right now\nPull up on them niggas like \"skrrt,\" and I murk\nAnd them jerks see the bad man comin'\nDump if a nigga say dumb\nAnd pump, have the best of the bad boys runnin'\nJump if you ready to fuck this shit up\nAnd get knuck if you buck if you thuggin'\nJump if you ready to fuck a pig up\n'Cause he cuff a nigga up for nothin'\nKnow some children that'll hold the thang\nAnd they let it bang 'cause you frontin'\nJump 'cause I'm feelin' like I'm the illest nigga\nI'm the trillest and I love it\nPush the Benz like it's nothin' (Woo)\nVersace lens like it's nothin' (Woo)\nFuck a 10 like it's nothin' (Woo)\nFuck her friend like it's nothin' (Woo)\nBitches with it like it's nothin' (Woo)\nSuck them titties like it's nothin' (Woo)\nFace a bottle like it's nothin' (Woo)\nTap a model like it's nothin' (Woo)\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up\nThis that East Coast, mothafucka\nCall me Mr. East Coast, mothafucka\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nRun it up, run it up, run it up, run it up\nFuck that shit, we get turnt 'til the sun is up\nAll of you niggas get burnt when the gun is up\nThis that East Coast, mothafucka\nCall me Mr. East Coast, mothafucka"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsBack Hurt Lyrics\nI'm a lucky bastard, my car like Dukes of Hazzard\nI never had a ghostwriter, I'm afraid of Casper\nI fucked her one time, then my homie fucked right after\nAlways keep it real, I ain't never been an actor\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\n\nBig bowl of money, I look like big bowl of money\nGot a Tommy on the Kawasaki, blowing out an onion\nTakeoff Frank Lucas, I got 'em itching\nThey addicted to Bobby and Mr. Whitneys\nAnd they drinking on Actavis what a feeling\nMomma told me drink water, flush out my kidney\nI'm a lucky bastard, dab, ooh, dagger\nYour bitch a happy camper got an iPhone she a snapper\nI know some rappers but know some more trappers\nThey got more money than you rappers\nTalk like that actor you smoking tobacco\nMy Louboutins stomp you out like I'm a Kappa\nI\u2019m gonna do my dab like the Heisman\nI wanna coach, I\u2019m Quavo O'Ryan\nLook at the feds I know that they spying\nI'm gonna disappear like I'm the Mayans\nHop in my rocket I bet they can't find me\nFuck all that bullshit and stop with this nonsense\nThese Benjamins and Jacksons got something in common\nAll of my niggas about money and violence\nFor real, for real, for real, this territory shit is real\nFuck how a nigga gon' feel, I'm just gripping on the steel\nThink I might go in Beverly Hills\nGet a mansion about 28 M's\nNo Jack and Jill but I done been on the hill\nCount it then I pop a seal\nYou might also like\nI'm a lucky bastard, my car like Dukes of Hazzard\nI never had a ghostwriter, I'm afraid of Casper\nI fucked her one time, then my homie fucked right after\nAlways keep it real, I ain't never been an actor\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\n\nI've been spending every penny\nMonday up in Magic City\nSucking on them tig ol' bitties\nDiamonds dancing on me like they Diddy\nI've been feeling gritty but I'm looking pretty\nI been popping bitches like I'm Pretty Ricky\nGot a bad bitch and her name is Nicki\nShe be with the m\u00e9nage and come from Philly\nYeah, swear that my father's killing me\nAll of these racks breaking my back\nThese dollars signs is crippling me\nYeah, I look in her eyes I'm an enemy\nI come from the trap, my niggas attack\nYou won't recognize your family\nI'm a lucky bastard, my car like Dukes of Hazzard\nI never had a ghostwriter, I'm afraid of Casper\nI fucked her one time, then my homie fucked right after\nAlways keep it real, I ain't never been an actor\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt\nAll these racks make my motherfucking back hurt"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsDennis Rodman Lyrics\nYeah, please\nHoo, hoo, hoo, ohh (Ayy)\n\nThe party is poppin' (Ayy)\nWhile she whip it, she mop it (Yeah)\nWhile she lick it, she top it (Yeah)\nGot the bitches, they swappin'\nTop is sloppy, it's slimy (Slimy)\nMami's ratchet, it's grimy (Ooh)\nI'm sinnin', I'm winnin' (Winnin')\nI'm Dennis Rodman (Rodman)\nHit a bitch with a mean lil' fadeaway (Fadeaway)\nAyy, bitch, you not my type, tell her straight away (Straight away)\nThe party is poppin' (Poppin')\nWhile she whip it, she mop it (Mop it)\nWhile she lick it, she top it\nGot the bitches, they swappin' (Swappin')\n\nDon't try me, it's by me (By me)\nFeel me, it's on me (On me, yeah)\nOn a super sonic (Pew)\nDon't play games like Sony (Sony)\nPocket (Pew) rocket (Pew)\nPop it (Pop it), lock it (Lock it)\nFlex, fuck it (Fuck it)\nSimon Says don't stop it (Stop it)\nBenihana's, cookin' bodies on a Saturday (Woo, cook it)\nHeard you got a new chain, it's on layaway (Yeah, layaway?)\nYou rappers, all you do is copy (Copy)\nAnd these bitches click my story 'cause they wanna watch me (Watch me)\nYou might also like\nAyy, she gon' send a text when it's gettin' late (Woo, gettin' late)\nAyy, meet my security at the gate (At the gate)\nBitch, you lookin' at a star like we in a Wraith (In a Wraith)\nBeat it like Billie Jean, moonwalk away (Ayy)\n\nThe party is poppin' (Ayy)\nWhile she whip it, she mop it (Yeah)\nWhile she lick it, she top it (Yeah)\nGot the bitches, they swappin'\nTop is sloppy, it's slimy (Slimy)\nMami's ratchet, it's grimy (Ooh)\nI'm sinnin', I'm winnin' (Winnin')\nI'm Dennis Rodman (Rodman)\nHit a bitch with a mean lil' fadeaway (Fadeaway)\nAyy, bitch, you not my type, tell her straight away (Straight away)\nThe party is poppin' (Poppin')\nWhile she whip it, she mop it (Mop it)\nWhile she lick it, she top it (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nGot the bitches, they swappin' (Swappin')\n\nShe mean, a queen, that's makin' bands\nHer ass I fiend, potato yams\nPut money on his head, I call it head band\nYou die here, Dennis Rodman\nIt feel like we won the Finals, we got five rings (Yeah)\nWe livin' the series, I'm thirty-for-thirty, I shake 'em like Kyrie\nYou niggas stuck on that bullshit, I ain't talkin' 'bout Dennis\nWe the ballers in the game (Uh), feel like we runnin' the scrimmage\nI'm the best, put a nigga in the Guinness\nMy bitches bad, Trinidad, Red Stripe and the Guinness\nWe paint our nails, hit Mimi for the manicure\nOnly thing we ever duckin' is them Lambi' doors\nThe party is poppin'\u2014 Hold the fuck up, Tyga, run that shit\nHere with the Tiger King when I'm the king when it comes to this Rodman thing\nAll of my songs hit\nBada-bing and it pay plenty but I do not feel a thing\nLast week, bought four of them chains\nGlowin' up until I'm tourin' the game\nRestorin' the game, rappers is wildin'\nBaptized 'em, now I drown 'em\nTrap album, now they silent\nMade a mill' talkin' 'bout values\nWent on a island\nBeautiful view from a palace\nTalkin' 'bout shoes with my stylist\nYou is a coward\nNot really valid\nMixin' the hustle with talent\nGot your bitch browsin'\nHer comment a thousand\nInstagram emoji smilin'\nThe party is poppin' (Ayy)\nWhile she whip it, she mop it (Yeah)\nWhile she lick it, she top it (Yeah)\nGot the bitches, they swappin'\nTop is sloppy, it's slimy (Slimy)\nMami's ratchet, it's grimy (Ooh)\nI'm sinnin', I'm winnin' (Winnin')\nI'm Dennis Rodman (Rodman)\nHit a bitch with a mean lil' fadeaway (Fadeaway)\nAyy, bitch, you not my type, tell her straight away (Straight away)\nThe party is poppin' (Poppin')\nWhile she whip it, she mop it (Mop it)\nWhile she lick it, she top it\nGot the bitches, they swappin' (Swappin')"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsDidn\u2019t Wanna Do That Lyrics\nThey told me West got robbed (Damn)\nWhere the fuck them niggas be at?\nThey took the chain up off his neck\nI heard the mac started running laps\nOh, what the fuck, how they gon' do that?\nMy nigga got stuffed, he didn't wanna view that\nI heard they had guns, they ain't wanna use that\nThey ain't wanna see Tom in the fucking boo cap\nWhat about Lil Mitt, where the fuck he was at?\nThat nigga too little, they ain't wanna do that\nBut he got more heart than most of them cats\nIf he had that thing, that thing go blat\nLil young trap lord with a little backpack\nFeel at his pulse with a bunch of big gats\nThey ain't wanna do that\n\n\nSemi or the TEC, guns gon' flirt\nSemi or the TEC, guns gon' flirt\nSemi or the TEC, guns gon' flirt\nSemi or the TEC, guns gon' flirt\nAnd another one squirt\nYou might also like\nRevenge is on my mind\nAnd now they got my brother\nThinking about picking up the nine\nAnd making them fuckers lick the blood up\nThere's no need for wasting time\nNiggas gon' get it one way or another\nYou want to live the street life\nGo ahead, go ahead\nYour wig get blown living that street life\nYou can't live long living that street life\nGot to watch your moms in this street life\nThey'll come to your home in this street life\nFull clip from the chrome, living that street life\nYour chromosomes all on the streetlights\nLights, somebody gon' die\nBody on ice, right"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsWorld Is Mine Lyrics\nYeah\nBetter get the fuck out my face\nYou always tellin' me I got the world\nTalkin' all that shit\nBitch you better the fuck out my face\nBut I don't have half of what I want to achieve\nNa-na-na-na-na-na, fuck is you sayin'\nI got to get it\n\nShe tried to tell me that the world is mine\nI know that ain\u2019t true\nAnd even though I want it all\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nShe tried to tell me that the world is mine\nI know that ain\u2019t true\nAnd even though I want it all\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nYou might also like\nShe tried to tell me that the world is mine\nBut you know it ain\u2019t true, you know it ain\u2019t true\nI\u2019m tryna make a dollar, get my ass up out of Harlem\nCause you know the haters watching and the bullets ain\u2019t cool\nAin\u2019t you, attracted to a powerful motherfucker\nDon't wanna be compared to these rapper dude motherfuckers\nWho turnin' so passionate when they battling motherfuckers\nBut never get a crib up in Malibu motherfucker\nAnd I don\u2019t want to wind up like him\nHe can't afford that Tom Ford, you won\u2019t like that man\nGrinding that old food, no AC or fan\nNo trips to Jamaica, babe you gets no tan\nI wanna pull up pull up in a 4-4 or Benz\nA Sprinter van, with the TVs in\nYour crew jump in, I\u2019m getting those jeans\nIf we keep on, fuckin\u2019 fly to Japan\nYou say that this shit mami, \u2018cause you my girl\nYou say you just need me and need no one else\nBut I'm full of ambition to take over the world\n\nShe tried to tell me that the world is mine\nAnd I know its true\nAnd even though I got it all\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nShe tried to tell me that the world is mine\nI know that ain\u2019t true\nAnd even though I got it all\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nFunny how it all go go, you never could know though\nWhat happened to Tiger was Kobe, you know hoes\nGet caught in a photo, lipstick on your polo\nAnd all the trust that you builds right out the door door\nY\u2019all went from lovebirds to looking like Dodos\nAnd that shit gon\u2019 last, for months it\u2019ll go go\nAnd that shit gon\u2019 drag, drag on like Komodo\nOver a bitch that look like Quasimodo, god!\nNow you calling and checkin' in\nAll the time like your ass still on parole though\nWondering if you just better off solo\nYou paying a price, but is that what it owe though?\nPraying up to god about shit that\u2019s not even holy\nYou like \u201cshe tripping over bitches saying that they know me\u201d\nThen she put the pussy on me, swear that shit control me\nThat shit control me, man that shit control me\n\nShe tried to tell me that the world is mine\nAnd I know its true\nAnd even though I got it all\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nShe tried to tell me that the world is mine\nI know that ain\u2019t true\nAnd even though I got it all\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose\nI\u2019m young, man, and I got everything to lose"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsUzi Gang Lyrics\nIf the bitch ain't on me, she on Ferg\nAsk them niggas who they want\nWho they want?\n\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\n\nMarty Baller a mac\nI'ma talk about things that go down in the trap\nYou can talk about rap, how I cooked up a flow\nWatch it rock while I'm spitting this crack\nWatch that Uzi go \"blatt!\", lay him flat on his back\nWith the pump, have an asthma attack\nThey ain't want to do that, when them goonies is comin'\nYoung niggas, they not comin' back\nI'm in Philly, those my other niggas\nHundred deep, nobody fuckin' with us\nFergie here, I brought my brother with us\nNike boots on and we stompin' niggas\nI'm with the Mob, those my other hittas\nLet them out the zoo, they go gorilla\nHarlem World got a hundred spittas\nMan, I'm Marty Baller, ain't nobody triller\nYou might also like\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\n\nI be tellin' her I don't want to fuck\nBaby just give me the forehead\nShe promised me a threesome with her best friend\nAnd I don't want to blow it\nEven though the bathroom not unisex\nWe can turn that shit co-ed\nI'ma be fuckin' and suckin' that pussy\nWhile I'm leanin' over the toilet\nOh, I see that she feelin' the boy, ayy\nCause she know that we makin' the noise, ayy\nWho do you want? It's no choice, ayy\nBitch you can't front, you know that we makin' the noise\n\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nYou makin' money, I've been made that\nAnd that's your new bitch, I been slayed that\nAnd this AK'll leave you way back\nAnd bitch ass nigga better stay back\nBefore I bring OG Lake back\nAnd that's a real nigga, I stay that\nI might yolk you, get your whole egg crack\nAnd my bih like Cassie take that\nI'm winnin' right now and you hate that\nI'm rollin' that blunt, you smoke shake pack\nAnd your favorite rapper wanna sign me\nAnd on some shit, I ain't even take that\nNo, I ain't even take that\nNo, I ain't even take that\nWho they want? Who they want?\nUzi Gang and A$AP\n\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)\nUzi Gang, A$AP, Uzi Gang, A$AP\n(Who they want?)"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsThis Side Lyrics\nOn this side kids do drugs\nOn this side kids gang bang\nOn this side better know your codes\nOn this side damu hang\nOn this side, we talk slang\nOn this side we the hat gang\nIn the Bronx, that's the mac game\nThat's what happened when OG Mack came home\nOn this side kids do drugs\nOn this side kids gang bang\nOn this side better know your codes\nOn this side damu hang\nOn this side, we talk slang\nOn this side we the hat gang\nIn the Bronx, that's the mac game\nThat's what happened when OG Mack came home\n\nThe first time I smoked weed, it was with Bloody Rose\nSkinny black motherfucker cornrows to the back\nHad a knack to say brrrrrat\nHad three cigarette burns in his arm, he wore a gat in his clothes\nHe said, \"I'mma be blood 'til the day I die Fergie when you coming home\"\nHis little brother Donny was my best friend and he was a blood\nAnd his daddy in the pen and he was too\nAnd his mom ya ya even she was a blood\nDonny had a set called LN-Dub they wore a burgundy flag to show their blood-ily love\nFor 31 seconds in an elevator baa like a hundred niggas\nGo nigga rep your thug\nThey came back with stories like we just got a popping\nStill breathing hard cause that Glock 9 was popping\nThey hear bodies dropping, the opposites dying\nYour son is gone and a few mommas crying\nYou know I ain't lying, Ferg satisfying\nShit done got turnt up and bullets was flying\nCouple niggas got burnt up due to all this violence\nAll you hear is the sound of the doosh doosh but no sirens\nYou might also like\nOn this side kids do drugs\nOn this side kids gang bang\nOn this side better know your codes\nOn this side damu hang\nOn this side, we talk slang\nOn this side we the hat gang\nIn the Bronx, that's the mac game\nThat's what happened when OG Mack came home\nOn this side kids do drugs\nOn this side kids gang bang\nOn this side better know your codes\nOn this side damu hang\nOn this side, we talk slang\nOn this side we the hat gang\nIn the Bronx, that's the mac game\nThat's what happened when OG Mack came home\n\nPop pop blllllrat rat\nTony mentioned he ain't the only one to get you smacked\nOn this side niggas got fat gats\nPoint them at the enemy and go bllllrat rat\nNigga nigga I'm from Bompton\nIf you grew up in the hood you got no option\nIf you ran into the hood then that's your problem\nHi mom I'm a blood now what you know 'bout it\nOn this side niggas getting DP'd\nGet your ass whooped in front of all your hommies\nThis the type shit to have a motherfucking bitch ass nigga snitching on his homies\nSo I'm bicken back being bool (I'm bicken back being bool)\nI'm bicken back being bool (I'm bicken back being bool)\nRed everything iPhone cases to my shoes\nKnow all of my bloods say soo-woo\nOn this side kids do drugs\nOn this side kids gang bang\nOn this side better know your codes\nOn this side damu hang\nOn this side, we talk slang\nOn this side we the hat gang\nIn the Bronx, that's the mac game\nThat's what happened when OG Mack came home\nOn this side kids do drugs\nOn this side kids gang bang\nOn this side better know your codes\nOn this side damu hang\nOn this side, we talk slang\nOn this side we the hat gang\nIn the Bronx, that's the mac game\nThat's what happened when OG Mack came home\n\nMomma said Darold don't wear red it's a bunch of black boys cutting boys ear to ear\nI went to Bloody Rose room we fucked the bitches there\nI was only fourteen years old in that pussy hair\nIt was drawings of bugs bunny on the wall\nWith Yosemite Sam his gun was tall\nBackwards clothes on like Kriss Kross\nMan this shit is looney toon who did this shit dawg\nI was gang affiliated like Shakur\nRest in Peace to who ain't make it man, I'm pissed off\nThey live by it so they dying by the pistol\nAnd they hate to see a nigga pop crystal\nShit dawg every time I think about that shit dawg\nI pour another bottle, let the floor dissolve\nThen glug 'til a nigga can't see shit\nThis is for my thug niggas who I used to be with\nOn this side kids do drugs\nOn this side kids gang bang\nOn this side better know your codes\nOn this side damu hang\nOn this side, we talk slang\nOn this side we the hat gang\nIn the Bronx, that's the mac game\nThat's what happened when OG Mack came home\nOn this side kids do drugs\nOn this side kids gang bang\nOn this side better know your codes\nOn this side damu hang\nOn this side, we talk slang\nOn this side we the hat gang\nIn the Bronx, that's the mac game\nThat's what happened when OG Mack came home"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsLet You Go Lyrics\nShe questioned my lyrics\nMy love for your music is bittersweet every time that I hear it\nYour great-sounding art helped build my walls\nAnd pushes me away so I won't fall\nI'm thinking in my head \"shit, oh my lord\"\nShe texted me last night with all my faults\nDownloaded your mixtape, it sound so good\nBut why you gotta say things that make me sound so small?\nYou talking 'bout your experience with other women\nHow you think that be looking?\nMy daddy and whole family hearing\nWhere's the respect? I don't feel it\nAnd if you lose me, would you fear it?\nWould you take back the silly acts that you was sharing?\nAbout how you deceived and cheated with no caring\nThe honesty in your music is fucking overbearing\nI feel you, babe, I understand where you coming from\nJust hear me out, just understand where I'm coming from\nI'm not dumb, I know what I write\nI don't wanna hurt you and I hate to fight\nI'm conscious of everything I recite\nCleanse the soul through fingertips when I write\nI don't really know if it's wrong or right\nI feel like God put me here to shed the light\nYou might also like\nBut I don't ever wanna let you go\n'Cause when the smoke clears, you'll still be here\nThrough the pain and the tears\nAll these years\nBut I don't ever wanna let you go\n'Cause when the smoke clears, you'll still be here\nThrough the pain and the tears\nAll these years\nYou ride for me\nYou lie for me\nYou would die for me\nAnd you cry for me\nBut I don't ever wanna let you go\n'Cause when the smoke clears, you'll still be here\nThrough the pain and the tears\nAll these years\n\nMy open letter to my girl who got my back\nWho's affected by the real shit in my raps\nWhat's that name of the song, the Jay Z track?\nI was just fucking them girls, I was gon' get right back\nStill tryna figure my place in this world\nAin't mean to hurt the heart of my beautiful girl\nSee, I talk about the real so my niggas'll learn\nTry give 'em motivation so my niggas'll earn\nSo I talk about how I shine and fuck on dimes\nRolling in the Maybachs, seats reclined\nI know it sounds kinda harsh when I speak 'bout mine\nAnd you'll be crying in the dark and wanna leave sometime\nBut I don't ever wanna let you go\n'Cause when the smoke clears, you'll still be here\nThrough the pain and the tears\nAll these years\nBut I don't ever wanna let you go\n'Cause when the smoke clears, you'll still be here\nThrough the pain and the tears\nAll these years\nBut I don't ever wanna let you go\n'Cause when the smoke clears, you'll still be here\nThrough the pain and the tears\nAll these years\nYou ride for me\nYou lie for me\nYou would die for me\nAnd you cry for me\nBut I don't ever wanna let you go\n'Cause when the smoke clears, you'll still be here\nThrough the pain and the tears\nAll these years\n\nYou ride for me\nYou lie for me\nYou would die for me\nAnd you cry for me"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsA Hundred Million Roses Lyrics\nUh, when I die bring a hundred million roses\nPretty bad bitches making love to my posters\n\nIn my Cartiers, two lugged teeth\nThrew ice in it, so I feel the breeze\nTwo thug bitches, thinkin about them G's\nWho love the hood, they'll never leave\nFour model bitches stay popping E\nOn that booger sugar, rolling up the trees\nSpit hella game in her skinny frame\nVersace frames, and her dirty bangs\nShe fuck her friends, then fuck my friends\nThis story go, it will never end, (it will never end)\nIt, it, it will never end\nAnd if I die before I wake, I pray that A$AP will be great\nMy mama good and my girl be late\nSo there will be another me and the world be straight\nDamn that nigga did his thang, he took over and changed the game\nHis silk shirt, Versace frames, his fly ass bitches\nHis tight ass jeans, his dirty Benz, his Cuban links\nHis big ass smile, his eyes is chinked\nHis brown ass skin, he was looking gold\nHe really lived, God bless his soul\nYou might also like\nWhen I die bring a hundred million roses\nPretty bad bitches making love to my posters\nRoses, bring a hundred million roses\nRoses, roses, bring a hundred million roses\n\nFergie, Fergie ?\n\nUh, tell that bitch that I'm Fergie Ferg\nRemind her I'm rich but never flip a bird\nYes a nigga street, just like the curb\nYoung Bari high, fucking with the herd\nRest in peace to Selena\nI listen to you sing when I'm rolling the weed up\nMix the Cristal with Tequila\nMight fuck your bitch but I don't wanna to kill her\nI beat that bitch, flash backs to Tina\nI feel like Ike when I'm on the mic\nAnd my Diet Butcher, Vera Wang\nVera Wang slang bitches for their brain\nAnd 40 ounce bounce, thug bitches with the fangs\nWho fill the block up with cocaine\n\nWhen I die bring a hundred million roses\nPretty bad bitches making love to my posters\nRoses, bring a hundred million roses\nRoses, roses, bring a hundred million roses"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsNandos Lyrics\nYeah\nNowadays shit is crazy out here man\nGotta protect yourself, yeah\n\nLoad up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)\nThat's what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)\nRoll with the fuckin' winners we the winner team (Trap)\nYou fuck with my niggas you gettin' the penalty (Lord)\nRemember me\nLoad up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)\nThis what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)\nRoll with the fuckin' winners we the winner team (Trap)\nYou fuck with my niggas you gettin' the penalty (Lord)\nRemember me\n\nHundred bottles in the club when I land though\nWe was in the PJ flying high fucking up Nandos\nLanded in Cannes for a couple bands, that was the plan though\nWe gotta get a couple model bitches we gon' fuck on the damn boat\nThe SLS got me dippin' out, we gon' fuck with the Lambo\nThe pigs fuckin' with me I'ma turn into Django\nLet's ride on these niggas 'til Kirk Knight gotta speed up the tempo\nThis Hennessy got me fucked up, yeah I ain't feelin' my pain though\nFeelin' my pain though\nYou might also like\nLoad up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)\nThat's what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)\nRoll with the fuckin' winners we the winner team (Trap)\nYou fuck with my niggas you gettin' the penalty (Lord)\nRemember me\nLoad up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)\nThat's what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)\nRoll with the fuckin' winners we the winner team (Trap)\nYou fuck with my niggas you gettin' the penalty (Lord)\nRemember me\n\nFuckin' hatin' niggas damning my interviews\nFuck what you thinkin' my nigga? This USA shit get it critical\nI'm not talkin' lyrical\nI'm talkin' po-po-po that be shootin' niggas in the blues\nShit is so cynical\nCall up a Uber now my little niggas will finish you\nNow look what I did to you\nMotherfucker don't you see that I'm ridin'\n24\/7 on the corner all my niggas they be all survivin'\nUsed to only hear ice cream trucks now all we hear is sirens\nThat's 'cause this fucking world only stuck on money and violence\nMoney and violence\nLoad up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)\nThat's what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)\nRoll with the fuckin' winners we the winner team (Trap)\nYou fuck with my niggas you gettin' the penalty (Lord)\nRemember me\nLoad up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)\nThat's what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)\nRoll with the fuckin' winners we the winner team (Trap)\nYou fuck with my niggas you gettin' the penalty (Lord)\nRemember meEmbed"}
{"text":"35 Contributors4:02 Lyrics\nDamn who knocking on the fucking door like that? Shit. I think that's our little friend. Hold on man, let me get that. Damn. Took forever, step on in, let me holla, yeah. Put your coat right there. Little mama say what's up to my baby, get acquainted. Here's your new best friend. Damn, lay down right there. Chocolate and caramel, best of both worlds. She got nice lips. She got a body on her right there. That's why I chose you\nBaby, touch me right there\n\u2013 Right there? You like that?\n\u2013 Oh shit. Now mama, let's see what mama taste like. Tell me what she taste like\nDamn\n\nSipping on that Henny got me going crazy with two ladies\nLooking so good, don't you want to be my baby\nYou lay it down, don't play around, don't make a sound\nLet me see that ass bounce, yeah\nAnd I want you to kiss her, and I want you to kiss her back\nOoh, girl, just move girl, and I want you to move it just like that\nDamn baby, you movin' it so good\n\nI like the way you talk, I like the way you move\nI like the way you scream, I like the way you do what you do\nThe way you talk to me, the way you talk\nThe way you talk to me, the way you talk\n\n\u2013 Hello\n\u2013 Bitch, where you at?\n\u2013 Minding my mothafuckin' business\n\u2013 Where your broke ass at?\n\u2013 Fuck does it sound like you crying? Is that bitch nigga 'bout it?\n\u2013 Bitch, you better not be with that nigga, Ferg\n\u2013 Shut the fuck up! Nigga, stop crying like a little bitch!\n\u2013 Come to the streets, nigga\n\u2013 Fuck outta here, that's why you fucking crying like a lit\u2014I'm fucking yo' bitch, nigga\n\u2013 Please, don't leave me\n\u2013 I fucking your bitch nigga, yeah\n\u2013 Please, don't leave me, please, I need you\n\u2013 I'm fucking you bitch. And she with my bitch. I'm fucking both of them bitches\n\u2013 Hello? Hello?\n\u2013 Fuck you, bitch!You might also like"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsKristi Lyrics\nAw Lord baby, she got a flip phone\nDa-damn baby, I been smokin'\nBeen chokin' and it's so potent baby, we high baby\nAnd you got the silver Gucci by my man Ferg, baby?\nYou a giant baby, you steppin' on these niggas' necks\nSometimes you gotta just ease that, ease that left foot off baby\nAnd then put your right foot on the, on the top of them, big baby\nAnd choke them even harder, cause you's a dog\nYou's a, you's a fuckin' champ, these are puppies baby\nThey can't, they can't fuck with you baby, Lord\n\nRacks on racks on racks, (Yeah) Dapper Dan all on my back (Right)\nDouble G all on my cap, (Yeah) monogram on a Maybach (Smear)\nTestin' that pussy like Pap (Smear) eatin' that bitch from the back (Yeah)\nMumble rap all on that cat (Yeah) Lil Pump, she makin' it clap\nI'm 'bout to write Yammy a letter, tell 'em I'm doin' way better (Right)\n\"Plain Jane\" the song of the year (Yeah) I'm busy just chasin' the lettuce\nI'm a Calvin Klein model on billboards, I did a campaign with the fellas (Right)\nAdidas done gave me another deal and Hennessy too, they got cheddar (Alright)\nShoot videos in the PJs (Yeah) then I go hop on a PJ (Yeah)\nThey sendin' me all these free clothes (Right) momma just put it on eBay\nI run the shit like a relay, niggas gon' have to press replay\nYammy say hi to my daddy for me, and Jam Master Jay for TJ\nYou might also like\nGoddamn, nigga\nWhen it be raining outside nigga, you the umbrella\nCause that shit just bounce off you with that Gucci\nGod, nigga I'ma call you Kristi YamaGucci, baby\nCause you just all over the fuckin' world with this shit, baby\nNiggas cannot touch you\n\nTrench coat mob is a Go-Go Gadget\nYou don't wanna see a pretty scene get drastic\nFuckin' with the Lords, no Frodo Baggins\nNiggas bring your clothes to the screen like a fat bitch\nEven though my name is Denzel, no actin'\nPap-pap, puttin' everything inside a casket\nTrack that, everything is gonna be a classic\nWrap that, put that bitch inside a prophylactic\nWhen I'm rappin', got no heart, I\u2019m double tappin'\nFrom a city built on coke and pistol-packin'\nSee you flaggin' and they packin' what you lackin'\nTake you out and then they act like nothin' happen\nAmnesia got rid of the heater\nBack in the hood where they blowin' on reefer\nI follow the light while you follow the leader\nNow a nigga overseas where they checkin' my Visa, look\nNah baby, what kinda flip phone you got?\nIs that a Nextel baby, no, a Chirp baby\nThis nigga got a Boost, baby, what the fuck\nNigga, you gotta step it up\nYou need to get you a trap phone\nNigga you need to get one of these fuckin' Motorolas, baby\nNiggas can't even track us, baby\n\nFinger roll, finger roll, finger roll, finger roll, dunk, yeah\nBallin' on my enemies, I ain't even tyin' up the pumps, huh\nImagine when I tie 'em up, yeah\nI shake 'em, they gon' need a crutch, yeah\nAnd I ain't talkin' groupie bitches\nWhen I say they got their panties in a bunch\nI'm talkin' niggas, I ain't talkin' nada\nThey ain't talkin' figures, gotta be six, seven or better\nTryna get a house, gotta get my bread up\nTryna stay on pace? You gon' have to step up\nCruisin' in a Wraith, see if they make it get-up\nPull up to the place, fucked her when we met up\nYeah, I'm gettin' buzz, but I never let up\nI ain't seen a doctor, but I got my check up\nCheck up, check up, check up, check up\nI'm playin' chess, you stuck on checkers\nThat's why your gang can never check us\nThey take your chain, and now you neck-less\nCheck up, check up, check up, check up\nI got a check on my watch (Wait)\nI'm losin' track of time\nCause I don't hear tick or no tock (Yup)"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsAww Yeah Lyrics\nYeah, shhhhh\nBow your head\nI'm a Trap Lord again\nIt's the Trap Lord, Hood Pope and Lil Boat nigga\nDon't like that nigga, ain't happenin'\nYou can suck on my dick nigga, fuck 'em\nYeah\n\nDiamonds shining everywhere, aw yeah\nBig ol' booty in the air, aw yeah\nDiamonds in my Cartier, aw yeah\nFerg and Yachty in the Lear, aw yeah\nDiamonds shining everywhere, aw yeah\nBig ol' booty in the air, aw yeah\nDiamonds in my Cartier, aw yeah\nFerg and Yachty in the Lear, aw yeah\n\nThis what it sound like when doves cry\nTraplord in the building like yeah, right!\nFucking on a bad model bitch\nAnd I bought her the Prada and Fendi like yeah, right!\nIn the Ferrari with Yachty\nWe just left the party, we hop in the Lear\nIn the PJ with a couple bad bitches\nAnd they touching my Cartiers\nDamn and I never had a bitch pop a pussy like this\nThat's a bad bitch right there\nPoppin' the bottles of the Cris, you don't think I'm the shit\nYou niggas is some haters\nAw man look at the glist' on a wrist\nLook like I had it in refrigerator\nHad your bitch put a good kiss on a dick\nAnd she know that's my spot right there\nYou might also like\nDiamonds shining everywhere, aw yeah\nBig ol' booty in the air, aw yeah\nDiamonds in my Cartier, aw yeah\nFerg and Yachty in the Lear, aw yeah\nDiamonds shining everywhere, aw yeah\nBig ol' booty in the air, aw yeah\nDiamonds in my Cartier, aw yeah\nFerg and Yachty in the Lear, aw yeah\n\nLiving out my dreams, I live movie scenes\nNothing's what it seems, thirty to my seams\nI'm with the Hood Pope, we like finer things\nBad Australian bitches in designer jeans\nMister typhoon, trapping Cancun, diamonds full moon\nYou's a whole coon, I can't wait for June\nDrop the top on that new zoom zoom\nI'm a young nigga, nineteen, I can be your mama's son\nFuck your mama's son\nCollar Gang and that's when the drama come (Lil Boat)\n\nDiamonds shining everywhere, aw yeah\nBig ol' booty in the air, aw yeah\nDiamonds in my Cartier, aw yeah\nFerg and Yachty in the Lear, aw yeah\nDiamonds shining everywhere, aw yeah\nBig ol' booty in the air, aw yeah\nDiamonds in my Cartier, aw yeah\nFerg and Yachty in the Lear, aw yeahEmbed"}
{"text":"37 ContributorsStrive Lyrics\nYou can be you today, you can be you tonight\nKnow you're feelin' really great, it's gon' be alright\nI can see it in your face and I know you wanna fly\nSo get off your ass and create your life\n\n'Cause you're missin' opportunities\nI know you're rich in opportunities\nAnd you're missin' opportunities\nI know you're rich in opportunities\nOh, oh, oh\n\nWorkin' in Ben & Jerry's, it was scary\nMy life vision was blurry\nYou got talent, why's you here?\nI'm thinkin', \"Yeah, plus I am gettin' a belly\"\nI remember mama screamin'\n\"You ain't gon' be like your Uncle Terry\"\nUncle Terry on the corner sellin' rocks\nHe don't care what you tell him\nHe a hustler, bad muddastrudda\nRidin' in a brand new Lex when he pull up\nHe got a hood bitch from the block in the winter\nHe pull up on her like, \"Baby give me sugar, mane\"\nMan I wish I coulda, shoulda, woulda\nWoulda put a hurtin' on her if I hit her with the wood up\nShe got me dreamin'\nWhen I get outta the hood, I'ma get me somethin' better\nYou might also like\nYou can be you today, you can be you tonight\nKnow you're feelin' really great, it's gon' be alright\nI can see it in your face and I know you wanna fly\nSo get off your ass and create your life\n\n'Cause you're missin' opportunities\nI know you're rich in opportunities\nAnd you're missin' opportunities\nI know you're rich in opportunities\nOh, oh, oh\n\nIn VA, where I stay\nThey don't play, they'll tell you that to your face\nCollard greens, candied yams, potato salad\nBefore you grub, better say your grace\nAuntie Jean was kinda mean, but she had dreams\nShe used to sing like Tina Turner\nShe said, \"Bring my wig and bring my dress\nMy high heel shoes from a Sunday mornin' service\"\nAyy, she said, \"I'll show y'all beginners\"\nI'll still whoop that ass with a switch and a splinter\nPray for these tramps runnin' round like a sinner\nMissy wanna be a star? Well tell her she's a winner\nAyy, she a bad lil' sumn'\nLove how she dance like Michael Jackson\nTold me I would be number one\nJust be yourself, don't be nothin' like them\nYou can be you today, you can be you tonight\nKnow you're feelin' really great, it's gon' be alright\nI can see it in your face and I know you wanna fly\nSo get off your ass and create your life\n\n'Cause you're missin' opportunities\nI know you're rich in opportunities\nAnd you're missin' opportunities\nI know you're rich in opportunities\nOh, oh, oh"}
{"text":"Whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some\u2005whores\u2005in this house\u2005(Hol' up)\nI said certified freak, seven\u2005days a week\nWet-ass pussy, make that pullout game weak, woo (Ah)\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, you fuckin' with some wet-ass pussy\nBring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy\nGive me everything you got for this wet-ass pussy\n\nBeat it up, nigga, catch a charge\nExtra large and extra hard\nPut this pussy right in your face\nSwipe your nose like a credit card\nHop on top, I wanna ride\nI do a kegel while it's inside\nSpit in my mouth, look in my eyes\nThis pussy is wet, come take a dive\nTie me up like I'm surprised\nLet's roleplay, I'll wear a disguise\nI want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage\nMake it cream, make me scream\nOut in public, make a scene\nI don't cook, I don't clean\nBut let me tell you how I got this ring (Ayy, ayy)\nYou might also like\nGobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me (Yeah)\nQuick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me (Yeah)\nI tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be (Huh)\nI'll run down on him 'fore I have a nigga runnin' me (Pow, pow, pow)\nTalk your shit, bite your lip (Yeah)\nAsk for a car while you ride that dick (While you ride that dick)\nYou really ain't never gotta fuck him for a thang (Yeah)\nHe already made his mind up 'fore he came (Ayy, ah)\nNow get your boots and your coat for this wet-ass pussy (Ah, ah, ah)\nHe bought a phone just for pictures of this wet-ass pussy (Click, click, click)\nPaid my tuition just to kiss me on this wet-ass pussy (Mwah, mwah, mwah)\nNow make it rain if you wanna see some wet-ass pussy (Yeah, yeah)\n\nLook, I need a hard hitter, need a deep stroker\nNeed a Henny drinker, need a weed smoker\nNot a garter snake, I need a king cobra\nWith a hook in it, hope it lean over\nHe got some money, then that's where I'm headed\nPussy A1 just like his credit\nHe got a beard, well, I'm tryna wet it\nI let him taste it, now he diabetic\nI don't wanna spit, I wanna gulp\nI wanna gag, I wanna choke\nI want you to touch that lil' dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat\nMy head game is fire, punani Dasani\nIt's goin' in dry and it's comin' out soggy\nI ride on that thing like the cops is behind me (Yeah, ah)\nI spit on his mic and now he tryna sign me, woo\nYour honor, I'm a freak bitch, handcuffs, leashes\nSwitch my wig, make him feel like he cheatin'\nPut him on his knees, give him somethin' to believe in\nNever lost a fight, but I'm lookin' for a beatin' (Ah)\nIn the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya\nIf he ate my ass, he's a bottom-feeder\nBig D stand for big demeanor\nI could make ya bust before I ever meet ya\nIf it don't hang, then he can't bang\nYou can't hurt my feelings, but I like pain\nIf he fuck me and ask \"Whose is it?\"\nWhen I ride the dick, I'ma spell my name, ah\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, you fuckin' with some wet-ass pussy\nBring a bucket and a mop for this wet-ass pussy\nGive me everything you got for this wet-ass pussy\nNow from the top, make it drop, that's some wet-ass pussy\nNow get a bucket and a mop, that's some wet-ass pussy\nI'm talkin' wap, wap, wap, that's some wet-ass pussy\nMacaroni in a pot, that's some wet-ass pussy, huh\n\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house\nThere's some whores in this house"}
{"text":"KSR\nIt's Cardi, ayy\nSaid I'm the shit, they can't fuck with me if they wanted to\nI don't gotta dance\n\nSaid lil' bitch, you can't fuck with me if you wanted to\nThese expensive, these is red bottoms, these is bloody shoes\nHit the store, I can get 'em both, I don't wanna choose\nAnd I'm quick, cut a nigga off, so don't get comfortable, look\nI don't dance now, I make money moves (Ayy, ayy)\nSay I don't gotta dance, I make money move\nIf I see you and I don't speak, that means I don't fuck with you\nI'm a boss, you a worker, bitch, I make bloody moves\n\nNow she say she gon' do what to who? Let's find out and see\nCardi B, you know where I'm at, you know where I be\nYou in the club just to party, I'm there, I get paid a fee\nI be in and out them banks so much, I know they're tired of me\nHonestly, don't give a fuck 'bout who ain't fond of me\nDropped two mixtapes in six months\nWhat bitch working as hard as me?\nI don't bother with these hoes, don't let these hoes bother me\nThey see pictures, they say, \"Goals,\" bitch, I'm who they tryna be\nLook, I might just chill in some BAPE\nI might just chill with your boo, I might just feel on your babe\nMy pussy feel like a lake\nHe wanna swim with his face, I'm like, \"Okay\"\nI'll let him get what he want, he buy me Yves Saint Laurent\nAnd the new whip, when I go fast as a horse\nI got the trunk in the front (Vroom, vroom)\nI'm the hottest in the street, know you prolly heard of me\nGot a bag and fixed my teeth, hope you hoes know it ain't cheap\nAnd I pay my mama bills, I ain't got no time to chill\nThink these hoes be mad at me, their baby father run a bill\nYou might also like\nSaid lil' bitch, you can't fuck with me if you wanted to\nThese expensive, these is red bottoms, these is bloody shoes\nHit the store, I can get 'em both, I don't wanna choose\nAnd I'm quick, cut a nigga off, so don't get comfortable, look\nI don't dance now, I make money moves\nSay I don't gotta dance, I make money moves\nIf I see you and I don't speak, that means I don't fuck with you\nI'm a boss, you a worker, bitch, I make bloody moves\n\nIf you a pussy, you get popped, you a goofy, you a opp\nDon't you come around my way, you can't hang around my block\nAnd I just checked my accounts, turns out, I'm rich, I'm rich, I'm rich\nI put my hand above my hip, I bet you dip, he dip, she dip\nI say I get the money and go, this shit is hot like a stove\nMy pussy glitter is gold, tell that lil' bitch play her role\nI just arrove in a Rolls, I just came up in a Wraith\nI need to fill up the tank, no, I need to fill up the safe\nI need to let all these hoes know that none of their niggas is safe\nI go to dinner and steak, only the real can relate\nI used to live in the P's, now it's a crib with a gate\nRollie got charms, look like Frosted Flakes\nHad to let these bitches know, just in case these hoes forgot\nI just run and check the mail, another check from Mona Scott\nSaid lil' bitch, you can't fuck with me if you wanted to\nThese expensive, these is red bottoms, these is bloody shoes\nHit the store, I can get 'em both, I don't wanna choose\nAnd I'm quick, cut a nigga off, so don't get comfortable, look\nI don't dance now, I make money moves\nSay I don't gotta dance, I make money move\nIf I see you and I don't speak, that means I don't fuck with you\nI'm a boss, you a worker, bitch, I make bloody moves"}
{"text":"Up, up, up (Ayy), up (Uh), up, look (This is fire)\nOnce upon a time, man, I heard that I was ugly\nCame from a bitch who nigga wanna fuck on me\n\nI said my face bomb, ass tight\nRacks stack up Shaq height\nJewelry on me, flashlight\nI been lit since last night\nHit him with that good good\nMake a nigga act right\nBroke boys don't deserve no pussy\n(I know that's right)\n\nBig bag bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga\nMan, Balenciaga Bardi back and all these bitches fucked\nIt's big bags bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga, man\nBirkin bag, Bardi back and all you bitches fucked\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Ayy)\nUp, then it's up, if it's up, then it's stuck (Huh)\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Woo)\nYou might also like\nI could make the party hot, I could make your body rock\nBitches say they fuckin' with me, chances are they probably not\nIf I had a dick, you'd probably lick it like a lollipop\nHoes speakin' cap-enese, hit 'em with karate chop\nI'm forever poppin' shit, pullin' up and droppin' shit\nGotta argue with him 'cause a nigga love a toxic bitch\nNiggas out here playin', gotta make 'em understand\nIf ain't no ring on my finger, you ain't goin' on my 'Gram\n\nI said my face bomb, ass tight (Yeah)\nRacks stack up Shaq height (Yeah)\nJewelry on me, flashlight (Huh)\nI been lit since last night (Woo)\nHit him with that good good\nMake a nigga act right (Ah)\nBroke boys don't deserve no pussy\n(I know that's right)\n\nBig bag bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga\nMan, Balenciaga Bardi back and all these bitches fucked (Woo)\nIt's big bags bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga, man\nBirkin bag, Bardi back and all you bitches fucked\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Ayy)\nUp, then it's up, if it's up, then it's stuck\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Ayy)\n\nBitches ain't fuckin' with me now and I can see why\nDirty-ass, dusty-ass bitch, you got pink eye\nBitches want smoke until I bring it to they doorstep\nTell that bitch back back, breath smell like horse sex (Ha)\nPut it on him now, he will never be the same (He won't)\nTatted on my ass 'cause I really like the pain (Ah)\nHe nutted on my butt, I said, \"I'm glad that you came\"\nIf that nigga had a twin, I would let 'em run a train (Skrrt)\n\nBig bag bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga\nMan, Balenciaga Bardi back and all these bitches fucked (Woo)\nIt's big bags bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga, man\nBirkin bag, Bardi back and all you bitches fucked (Ooh)\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Woo)\nUp, then it's up, if it's up, then it's stuck (Woo)\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh\nLook, gotta play it safe, huh\nNo face, no case (Hahaha)"}
{"text":"Bardi in a 'Rari, diamonds all over my body\n(30, you a fool for this one)\nShinin' all over my body\nBardi, put that lil' bitch on molly, Bardi!\nBitch on molly (Cheeze)\n21, diamonds all over my body\nFucked that bitch on molly (KSR)\nAsk him if I'm 'bout it\n\nYour bitch wanna party with Cardi\nCartier Bardi in a 'Rari (Skrrt, skrrt; 21)\nDiamonds all over my body (Cardi)\nShinin' all over my body (My body)\nCardi got your bitch on molly\nBitch, you ain't gang, you lame\nBentley truck lane to lane, blow out the brain (21)\nI go insane, insane\nI drop a check on the chain, fuck up a check in the Flame\n\nCardi took your man, you upset, uh\nCardi got rich, they upset, yeah (From what?)\nCardi put the pussy on Offset (Say what?)\nCartier, Cardi B brain on Offset (21)\nCardi took your man, you upset, uh\nCardi got rich, they upset, yeah (21)\nCardi put the pussy on Offset (Cardi)\nCartier, Cardi B brain on Offset (Who's Cardi?)\nYou might also like\nWho get this motherfucker started? Cardi!\nWho took your bitch out to party? Cardi!\nI took your bitch and departed Cardi!\nWho that be fly as a Martian? Cardi!\nWho that on fleek in the cut? Cardi!\nWho got the bricks in the truck? Cardi!\nThem diamonds gon' hit like a bitch on a bitchy-ass bitch\nBitch, you a wannabe Cardi!\nRed bottom MJ, moonwalk on a bitch\nMoonwalkin' through your clique\nI'm moonwalkin' in the 6\n.50 with the kick, moonrocks in this bitch\nI'm from the motherfuckin' Bronx (Bronx)\nI keep the pump in the trunk (Trunk)\nBitch, if you bad then jump (Jump)\nMight leave your bitch in a slump (Your back)\n\nYour bitch wanna party with Cardi\nCartier Bardi in a 'Rari (Skrrt, skrrt; 21)\nDiamonds all over my body (Cardi)\nShinin' all over my body (My body)\nCardi got your bitch on molly\nBitch, you ain't gang, you lame\nBentley truck lane to lane, blow out the brain (21)\nI go insane, insane\nI drop a check on the chain, fuck up a check in the Flame\nCardi took your man, you upset, uh\nCardi got rich, they upset, yeah (From what?)\nCardi put the pussy on Offset (Say what?)\nCartier, Cardi B brain on Offset (21)\nCardi took your man, you upset, uh\nCardi got rich, they upset, yeah (21)\nCardi put the pussy on Offset (Cardi)\nCartier, Cardi B brain on Offset\n\nYour bitch wanna party with a Savage (21)\nSaint Laurent Savage in an Aston (Yeah)\nHigh end cars and fashion (21)\nI don't eat pussy, I'm fastin' (On God)\nI'm a Blood, my brother Crippin'\nBitch, I'm drippin', ho, you trippin'\nTold the waitress, I ain't tippin'\nI like hot sauce on my chicken (On God)\nI pulled the rubber off and I put hot sauce on her titties (21)\nI'm in a Bentley truck, she keep on suckin' like it's tinted (21)\nAll these VVSs, nigga, my sperm worth millions (On God)\nThe bitch so bad, I popped a molly 'fore I hit it (21, 21)\n\nYour bitch wanna party with Cardi\nCartier Bardi in a 'Rari (Skrrt, skrrt; 21)\nDiamonds all over my body (Cardi)\nShinin' all over my body (My body)\nCardi got your bitch on molly\nBitch, you ain't gang, you lame\nBentley truck lane to lane, blow out the brain (21)\nI go insane, insane\nI drop a check on the chain, fuck up a check in the Flame\nCardi took your man, you upset, uh\nCardi got rich, they upset, yeah (From what?)\nCardi put the pussy on Offset (Say what?)\nCartier, Cardi B brain on Offset (21)\nCardi took your man, you upset, uh\nCardi got rich, they upset, yeah (21)\nCardi put the pussy on Offset (Cardi)\nCartier, Cardi B brain on Offset (Who's Cardi?)\n\nStep in this bitch in Givenchy (Cash)\nFuck up a check in Givenchy (Cash)\nBoss out the coupe and them inches\nI fuck up a bag at the Fendi, I fuck up a bag in a minute\nWho you know drip like this?\nWho you know built like this?\nI'm poppin' shit like a dude\nPull up to pop at your crew, brrrt, poppin' at you (Woo)\nThey say you basic, I flooded the Rollie with diamonds\nI flooded the Patek and bracelet\nI got your bitch and she naked\nIce on the cake when I bake it\nI'm switchin' lanes in the Range\nSwap out the dick for the brain\nSwap out your bitch for your main\nSwap out the trap for the fame\nIce on them Cardi B Cartier frames, bitch\n\nYour bitch wanna party with Cardi\nCartier Bardi in a 'Rari (Skrrt, skrrt; 21)\nDiamonds all over my body (Cardi)\nShinin' all over my body (My body)\nCardi got your bitch on molly\nBitch, you ain't gang, you lame\nBentley truck lane to lane, blow out the brain (21)\nI go insane, insane\nI drop a check on the chain, fuck up a check in the Flame\n\nCardi took your man, you upset, uh\nCardi got rich, they upset, yeah (From what?)\nCardi put the pussy on Offset (Say what?)\nCartier, Cardi B brain on Offset (21)\nCardi took your man, you upset, uh\nCardi got rich, they upset, yeah (21)\nCardi put the pussy on Offset (Cardi)\nCartier, Cardi B brain on Offset (Who's Cardi?)"}
{"text":"Yeah\nCare for me, care for me, care for me, uh\nYeah, look\n\nI wanna get married, like the Currys, Steph and Ayesha shit\nBut we more like Belly\u2014Tommy and Keisha shit\nGave you TLC, you wanna creep and shit\nPoured out my whole heart to a piece of shit\nMan, I thought you would've learned your lesson\n'Bout likin' pictures, not returnin' texts\nI guess it's fine, man, I get the message\nYou still stutter after certain questions\nYou keep in contact with certain exes\nDo you, though, trust me, nigga, it's cool, though\nSaid that you was workin', but you out here chasin' culo\nAnd putas, chillin' poolside, livin' two lives\nI could've did what you did to me to you a few times\nBut if I did decide to slide, find a nigga\nFuck him, suck his dick, you would've been pissed\nBut that's not my M.O., I'm not that type of bitch\nAnd karma for you is gon' be who you end up with\nYou make me sick, nigga\n\nThe only man, baby, I adore\nI gave you everything, what's mine is yours\nI want you to live your life of course\nBut I hope you get what you dyin' for\nBe careful with me, do you know what you doin'?\nWhose feelings that you're hurtin' and bruisin'?\nYou gon' gain the whole world\nBut is it worth the girl that you're losin'?\nBe careful with me\nYeah, it's not a threat, it's a warnin'\nBe careful with me\nYeah, my heart is like a package with a fragile label on it\nBe careful with me\nYou might also like\nCare for me, care for me\nAlways said that you'd be there for me, there for me\nBoy, you better treat me carefully, carefully, look\n\nI was here before all of this\nGuess you actin' out now, you got an audience\nTell me where your mind is, drop a pin, what's the coordinates?\nYou might have a fortune, but you lose me, you still gon' be misfortunate, nigga\nTell me, this lust got you this fucked up in the head\nYou want some random bitch up in your bed?\nShe don't even know your middle name, watch her 'cause she might steal your chain\nYou don't want someone who loves you instead? I guess not though\nIt's blatant disrespect, you nothin' like the nigga I met\nTalk to me crazy and you quick to forget\nYou even got me trippin', you got me lookin' in the mirror different\nThinkin' I'm flawed because you inconsistent\nBetween a rock and a hard place, the mud and the dirt\nIt's gon' hurt me to hate you, but lovin' you's worse\nIt all stops so abrupt, we started switchin' it up\nTeach me to be like you so I can not give a fuck\nFree to mess with someone else, I wish these feelings could melt\n'Cause you don't care about a thing except your mothafuckin' self\nYou make me sick, nigga\nThe only man, baby, I adore\nI gave you everything, what's mine is yours\nI want you to live your life of course\nBut I hope you get what you dyin' for\nBe careful with me, do you know what you doin'?\nWhose feelings that you're hurtin' and bruisin'?\nYou gon' gain the whole world\nBut is it worth the girl that you're losin'?\nBe careful with me\nYeah, it's not a threat, it's a warnin'\nBe careful with me\nYeah, my heart is like a package with a fragile label on it\nBe careful with me"}
{"text":"Look, my bitches all bad, my niggas all real\nI ride on his dick in some big tall heels\nBig fat checks, big large bills\nFront, I'll flip like ten cartwheels\nCold ass bitch, I give broads chills\nTen different looks and my looks all kill\nI kiss him in the mouth, I feel all grills\nHe eat in the car, that's meals on wheels (Woo)\n\nI was born to flex (Yes)\nDiamonds on my neck\nI like boardin' jets, I like mornin' sex (Woo)\nBut nothing in this world that I like more than checks (Money)\nAll I really wanna see is the (Money)\nI don't really need the D, I need the (Money)\nAll a bad bitch need is the (Money flow)\nI got bands in the coupe (Coupe)\nBustin' out the roof\nI got bands in the coupe (Coupe)\nTouch me, I'll shoot (Bow)\nShake a lil ass (Money)\nGet a little bag and take it to the store (Store, money)\nGet a little cash (Money)\nShake it real fast and get a little more (Money)\nI got bands in the coupe (Coupe)\nBustin' out the roof\nI got bands in the coupe (Brrr)\nBustin' out the roof (Cardi)\nYou might also like\nI gotta fly, I need a jet, shit\nI need room for my legs\nI got a baby, I need some money, yeah\nI need cheese for my egg\nAll y'all bitches in trouble\nBring brass knuckles to the scuffle\nI heard that Cardi went pop\nYeah, I did go pop (Pop)\nThat's me bustin' they bubble\nI'm Dasani with the drip\nBaby mommy with the clip\nWalk out Follie's with a bitch\nBring a thottie to the whip\nIf she fine or she thick, goddamn\nWalkin' past the mirror, ooh\nDamn, I'm fine (Fine)\nLet a bitch try me, boom (Boom)\nHammer time, uh\n\nI was born to flex (Yes)\nDiamonds on my neck\nI like boardin' jets, I like mornin' sex (Woo)\nBut nothing in this world that I like more than checks (Money)\nAll I really wanna see is the (Money)\nI don't really need the D, I need the (Money)\nAll a bad bitch need is the (Money flow)\nI got bands in the coupe (Coupe)\nBustin' out the roof\nI got bands in the coupe (Coupe)\nTouch me, I'll shoot (Bow)\nShake a lil ass (Money)\nGet a little bag and take it to the store (Store, money)\nGet a little cash (Money)\nShake it real fast and get a little more (Money)\nI got bands in the coupe (Coupe)\nBustin' out the roof\nI got bands in the coupe (Brrr)\nTouch me, I'll shoot (Bow)\nBitch, I will pop on your pops (Your pops)\nBitch, I will pop on whoever (Brrr)\nYou know who pop the most shit? (Who?)\nThe people whose shit not together (Okay)\nYou'da bet Cardi a freak (Freak)\nAll my pajamas is leather (Uh)\nBitch, I will black on your ass (Yeah)\nWakanda forever\nSweet like a honey bun, spit like a Tommy gun\nRollie a one of one, come get your mommy some\nCardi at the tip-top, bitch\nKiss the ring and kick rocks, sis (Mwah)\nJump it down, back it up (Ooh, ayy)\nMake that nigga put down 2K\nI like my niggas dark like D'USS\u00c9\nHe gonna eat this ass like souffl\u00e9\n\nI was born to flex, diamonds on my neck\nI like boardin' jets, I like mornin' sex\nBut nothing in this world that I like more than Kulture\n(Kulture, Kulture, Kulture)\nAll I really wanna see is the (Money)\nI don't really need the D, I need the (Money)\nAll a bad bitch need is the\nK.K.C (Woo)\n(Money)\nMoney\n(Money)\n(Money)\n(Money)\n(Money)\n(Money)\n(Money)"}
{"text":"Monsta's gon' tear it up\nBardi\nWoo, yeah\nBitches be pressed (Woo)\nBitches be pressed (Pressed)\nWoo, yeah, yeah, woo\n\nBitches be pressed (Pressed)\nThey knew how I'm coming, real bitch in the flesh (Woo)\nWho the fuck she gon' check? (Who?)\nShe be talking that shit, talkin' out of her neck (Brr)\nPut blood on her dress (Woo)\nBitches be mad when they see Cardi step in the spot (Woah)\nSaid that you 'bout it, we know that you not\nI'ma pull up on bitches as soon as I drop\nBought a new foreign, I might cop a yacht (Skrrt)\nBitches in my business, they tryna plot (Woo)\nHoes poppin' shit like they hot but they not (No)\nJust flooded the wrist, the Patek, the watch (Woah)\nNiggas be flexing, we know what you got\nCardi done had got the game in a knot\nFuckin' your nigga, I got him on lock\nThis go bang bang like I'm choppin' them chops\nVVS chain, I'm in love with the rocks (Woah)\nYou said you gon' take it, bitch, you got me chopped (Woah)\nThey throwin' shade 'cause they see me on top\nTell that bitch to pull up, I'ma send you the drop\nYou might also like\nPress, press, press, press, press\nCardi don't need more press\nKill 'em all, put them hoes to rest\nWalk in, bulletproof vest\nPlease tell me who she gon' check\nMurder scene, Cardi made a mess\nPop up, guess who, bitch?\nPop up, guess who, bitch?\n\nDing dong\nMust be that whip that I ordered\nAnd a new crib for my daughter\nYou know a bad bitch gon' spoil her\nGot one in New York, need one in Georgia (Yeah)\nNew Bentley truck cost a quarter (Quarter)\nMy money still long like weave (Woo)\nPussy still wet like Florida (Woo)\nEveryone drop on the floor\nShe was talkin' but not anymore (No)\nMAC to your face like contour (Brr)\nThis chopper come straight from Dior\nDone with the talkin', I'm open to violence\nAsk anybody, they know I'm about it\nHashtag whip that ho ass\nFuck around, we gon' start a new challenge (Woo)\nI come in this bitch and I'm strapped up and ready\nRidin' that dick like I'm Cardi Andretti\nFuck at your crib, we don't go to no 'telly\nI sit on his face whenever I'm ready (Woo)\nBitch I'm a freak like Greek (Like Greek)\nGot the biggest house on my street (My street)\nAll you little hoes look cheap (Look cheap)\nThey suckin' on my dick with no teeth\nPress, press, press, press, press\nCardi don't need more press\nKill 'em all, put them hoes to rest\nWalk in, bulletproof vest\nPlease tell me who she gon' check\nMurder scene, Cardi made a mess\nPop up, guess who, bitch?\nPop up, guess who, bitch?\n\nPress, press, press, press\nPress, press, press, press\nPress, press, press, press\nPop up, guess who, bitch?\nPop up, guess who, bitch?"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olFran\u00e7aisThru Your Phone Lyrics\nLook, I just want to break up all your shit\nCall your mama phone, let her know that she raised a bitch\nThen dial tone, click\nAnd fuck your little fake-ass friends\nComin' round actin' like they my bros\nI seen y'all little group texts\nWhere you all like to brag about your hoes\nAnd you can tell your little bitch\nI screenshotted all her naked pics\nOh, you wanna send nudes to my man?\nWake up and see your boobs on the 'Gram? Lil' bitch\nI cannot stand you, right hand to Jesus\nI might just cut all the tongues out your sneakers\nSmash your TV from Best Buy\nYou gon' turn me into Left Eye\nI don't wanna hear 'bout invasion of privacy\nI had a feelin', it turns out you lie to me\nI'm holdin' back everything that's inside of me\nHow you out fuckin' with bitches that follow me?\n\nMy heart is beating like it's bleedin' out\nYou sleepin', you sleepin', you sleepin'\nYou sleepin' like a baby\nEveryone was right about you now, and\nYou creepin', you creepin', you creepin'\nYou might also like\nI went through your phone last night\nI went through your phone last night\nSaw some things I didn't like\nI went through your phone last night\nIt's killin' me, killin' me, killin' me, oh\n\nAll I can see is you and her in different scenarios\nBeyonc\u00e9 on my stereo, \"Resentment\" on repeat\nI'ma make you a bowl of cereal with a teaspoon of bleach\nServe it to you like, \"Here you go, nigga, bon app\u00e9tit\"\nLook, did you give it to her raw? You love her or nah?\nYou risk your whole home for a ho from the bar?\nYou really want them hoes? You can have them bitches\nYou don't even cheat with no bad bitches\nThis shit is eatin' me, you sleepin' peacefully\nGettin' more mad at you, thinkin' 'bout stabbin' you\nDon't even know that you this close to dyin'\nYou gon' wake up like, \"Why you got an attitude?\"\n\nMy heart is beating like it's bleeding out\nYou sleepin', you sleepin', you sleepin'\nYou sleepin' like a baby\nEveryone was right about you now, and\nYou creepin', you creepin', you creepin'\nI went through your phone last night\nI went through your phone last night\nSaw some things I didn't like\nI went through your phone last night\nIt's killin' me, killin' me, killin' me, oh\n\nIt's killin' me\nIt's killin' me, killin' me, killin' me, oh\nIt's killin' me\nIt's killin' me, killin' me, killin' me, oh\nIt's killin' me\nIt's killin' me, killin' me, killin' me, oh\nIt's killin' me\n\nI went through your phone last night\nI went through your phone last night\nSaw some things I didn't like\nI went through your phone last night\nIt's killin' me, killin' me, killin' me, oh"}
{"text":"M-M-M-Murda\n\nLeft a nigga on read 'cause I felt like it\nDress me down in that Raf, Saint Laurent jacket\nDapper, dapper, I look fine and my checks divine\nNo wonder, wonder why I do whatever I like\nI do what I like, I do, I do\nI do what I like, I do, I do\nI do what I like, I do, I do\nI do what I like, I do, I do\n\nI think us, bad bitches, is a gift from God (Gift from God)\nI think you broke hoes need to get a job (Get a job)\nNow I'm a boss, I write my own name on the checks (Cardi)\nPussy so good, I say my own name during sex (Yeah)\nI might smack a bitch 'cause I felt like it (Yeah)\nGucci shoes and a belt like it (Woo)\nSaid that Cardi is his favorite fragrance\nI'm a rich bitch and I smell like it\nI'm in a boss bitch mood, ayy, these heels are Givenchy, ho\nThese are some boss bitch shoes\nIf you ain't no boss bitch, move, ayy\nFor the record, I set record record sales (Huh?)\nI like niggas that been in and outta jail (Huh?)\nThey said by now that I'll be finished, hard to tell (I can't tell)\nMy little fifteen minutes lasting long as hell, huh?\nYou might also like\nLeft a nigga on read 'cause I felt like it\nDress me down in that Raf, Saint Laurent jacket\nDapper, dapper, I look fine and my checks divine\nNo wonder, wonder why I do whatever I like\nI do what I like, I do, I do\nI do what I like, I do, I do\nI do what I like, I do, I do\nI do what I like, I do, I do\n\nLook, broke hoes do what they can (Can)\nGood girls do what they told (Told)\nBad bitches do what they want (They want)\nThat's why a bitch is so cold (Woo)\nI'm a gangsta in a dress, I'm a bully in the bed\nOnly time that I'm a lady's when I lay these hoes to rest (Brrt)\nThe coupe is roofless, but I get top in it\nI'm provocative, it's my prerogative\n80K just to know what time is it\nCardi rockin' it, go buy stock in it\nSpend what I want, ain't no limit\nI say what I want, I ain't never been timid\nOnly real shit comes out my mouth and only real niggas go in it\nLeave his texts on read, leave his balls on blue\nPut it on airplane mode so none of those calls come through (Woo)\nHere's a word to my ladies, don't you give these niggas none (Give 'em none)\nIf they can't make you richer, they can't make you cum, huh? (Egh!)\nI left a nigga on read 'cause I felt like it\nDress me down in that Raf, Saint Laurent jacket\nDapper, dapper, I look fine, and my checks divine\nNo wonder, wonder why I do whatever I like\nI do what I like, I do, I do\nI do what I like, I do, I do\nI do what I like, I do, I do\nI do what I like, I do, I do"}
{"text":"That boy Cassius!\nCardi!\nN-N-Non-stop\n\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\n\nGive me little something to remember (Cardi!)\nTryna make love in a Sprinter (Yeah)\nQuick to drop a nigga like Kemba (Go)\nLookin' like a right swipe on Tinder (Woo)\nShit on these hoes (Shit)\nLight up my wrist on these hoes (Wrist)\nNow I look down on these bitches (Down)\nI feel like I'm on stilts on these hoes (Woo)\nFuck ya' baby daddy right now (Right now)\nAnna Mae, got cake by the pound (Pound)\nGo down, eat it up, don't drown\nMac n' cheese in the bowl, how it sound? (sound)\nI got that gushy\nYeah that's a fact, but I never been pussy\nI've been that bitch since pajamas with footies\nWon MVP, and I'm still a rookie, like woo\nI gotta work on my anger (Ayy)\nMight kill a bitch with my fingers (Ayy)\nI gotta stay outta Gucci (Woo)\nI'm finna run outta hangers (Woo)\nIs she a stripper, a rapper or a singer?\nI'm busting bucks in a Bentley Bentayga\nRide through your hood like \"Bitch, I'm the mayor!\"\nYou not my bitch, then bitch you in danger\nYou might also like\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\n\nBitch you a thot, ain't trickin' (Thot, thot)\nPut her on her knee, make her lick it (Lick it)\nPatek on my wrist, and it's glistenin' (Drip, drip)\nThe bitch got mad, I dissed her (Hey)\n\nShawty, you ain't nothin' to a rich nigga (Nothin')\nI'll put a check on a bitch nigga (Brrt)\nFuck your whole set and your clique, nigga (Fuck 'em)\nGot a gang full of dud and some broke niggas (Dud)\nDiamonds on me, what's the price? (Price)\nI'm not gettin' involved with the hype (Hype)\nI'm too rich to get into a fight (Too rich)\n50 racks got my jeans fittin' tight (50 racks)\nPay the price and them boys come and wipe ya' (Wipe ya')\nWe had to dispose of the diaper (Dispose)\nYeah we trap every week, every night (Whoa)\nWord my move, we too smooth, no indictments (Hey)\nYeah, freakazoid lightnin' (Lightnin')\n57 90 in this Breitling (Breit')\nWhen I got a mil I got excited (Million)\nFor the cash I'ma turn to Michael Myers\nBaguettes keep dripping, droppin' (Drip)\nMy wrist all liquid watches (Watch)\nTold the bitch, \"Jump on my dick and pop it\" (Yeah)\nGet a little bitch a deposit (Hey, brrt)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\n\nBitch you a thot, ain't trickin' (Thot, thot)\nPut her on her knee, make her lick it (lick it)\nPatek on my wrist, and it's glistenin' (Uh, drip, drip)\nThe bitch got mad, I dissed her (Hey)\n\nTake-Takeoff\nCame through drippin' (Drippin')\nI ain't never slippin', I'm a pimp (Pimp)\nFuckin' with a quarter million, nigga, what a feelin' (Feelin')\nAbort the mission, nigga, they be tellin' off and squealin' (Squealin')\nSplash, took a bitch to Piccadilly (Splash)\nWater in my ear, gave a nigga wet willy (Wet willy)\nCame through drippin', spillin'\nWalkin' with the bag (Bag)\nTryna get my niggas all a milli, stack it to the ceilin' (Ceilin')\nShootin' at civilians ('villians)\nI'm the one dealin', I could make a killin' (Killin')\nBags, can you smell it when I Vac-seal it? (Uh)\nFlag, nigga, throw it up, don't care about your feelings (Fuck 'em)\nOoh, what is this? What you wearin'? I be drippin' (What)\nCal Ripken's hit a nigga, Ken Griffey (Home run)\nThe bitch got thick, so I guess she ate Jiffy\nWhen she leave with me, I'ma fly her back to the city (For sure)\nGo get the bag on the day off (Tacks)\nGo get the rings out the playoffs (Rings)\nPots in the beat, it's a bake off (Packs)\nFuck on her, then she get laid off (Smash)\nBig boy tools, Maaco (Big boy)\nMake a bitch dance with a Draco (Dance)\nWalkin' with the cheese, that queso (Cheese)\nThat's Huncho, fuck the Rodeo (Huncho)\nPrivate jet, we don't do layover (Whew)\nOne call, I'm havin' your bae over (Brrt)\nWalk out the spot with a makeover (Woo)\nGot her addicted to payola (Addicted, hey)\n\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nCame through drippin' (Drip, drip)\nDiamonds on my wrist, they drippin' (Ice!)"}
{"text":"Ooh, ooh\nRing, ring, ring, ring\n\nYou don't hit my line no more, oh, oh\nYou don't make it ring, ring, ring, ring\nI can't keep this on the low\nI want you to make it ring, ring, ring, ring\n\nShould I call first? I can't decide\nI want to, but a bitch got pride\nThe switchin' up shit is what I can't fuck with\nI'm feelin' you but you hard to get in touch with\nAnd you ain't hit me up in a while\nActin' like you don't know what number to dial\nYou quit, then that's it, I'ma throw in the towel\n'Cause a nigga only gon' do what you allow\nYou don't want this gun smoke\nLearn to text with your nose if your thumb broke\nI don't care if we get into it and I stall on your ass\nBetter still wake up to missed calls from your ass, nigga\n\nYou don't hit my line no more, oh, oh\nYou don't make it ring, ring, ring, ring\nI can't keep this on the low\nI want you to make it ring, ring, ring, ring\nYou might also like\nNah, nigga, now you gon' have to call me (Call me)\n'Cause I'm lookin' at these messages, they on me (Yeah)\nActin' like they ain't niggas that want me\nLet another nigga in your spot, and you gon' be hot, nigga, coffee\nYou gon' be sick to your, stomach\nHit me when you free, 1-800\nIt's emergency, call me 911\n'Cause right now I'm out here tryna find someone\nThe ring on my phone, ring on my finger (Brrr)\nYou actin' like you ain't tryna do either (Yeah)\nOnce a good girl, watch me turn diva\nHere goes my heart, I put it on speaker (Oh)\n\nYou don't hit my line no more, oh, oh\nYou don't make it ring, ring, ring, ring\nI can't keep this on the low\nI want you to make it ring, ring, ring, ring\n\nYou used to be on my line\nOn my tick all the time, yeah\nLove it when you make me feel\nLike you don't mind when I ain't got time for you\nAnd no it don't go to my head, I'm only arrogant in bed\nI just love to know you wanna spend time with me instead\nNow you all caught up, yeah\nYou all caught up and you done left me alone, yeah\nYou was all fed up\nReady for the next step, wanna be on your own\nSaid I just miss you, I just miss us, baby\nAll I know is\nYou don't hit my line no more, oh, oh\nYou don't make it ring, ring, ring, ring (You don't make it ring, baby)\nI can't keep this on the low (Yeah, yeah, oh)\nI want you to make it ring, ring, ring, ring"}
{"text":"Look, they gave a bitch two options: strippin' or lose\nUsed to dance in a club right across from my school\nI said \"dance\" not \"fuck\", don't get it confused\nHad to set the record straight 'cause bitches love to assume\nMama couldn't give it to me, had to get it at Sue's\nLord only knows how I got in those shoes\nI was covered in dollars, now I'm drippin' in jewels\nA bitch play with my money? Might as well spit in my food\nBitches hated my guts, now they swear we was cool\nWent from makin' tuna sandwiches to makin' the news\nI started speakin' my mind and tripled my views\nReal bitch, only thing fake is the boobs\nGet money, go hard, you're mothafuckin' right\nNever been a fraud in my mothafuckin' life\nGet money, go hard, damn fuckin' right\nStunting on these bitches out of mothafuckin' spite\nAin't no runnin' up on me, went from nothin' to glory\nI ain't tellin' y'all to do it, I'm just tellin' my story\nI don't hang with these bitches 'cause these bitches be corny\nAnd I got enough bras, y'all ain't gotta support me\nI went from rag to riches, went from WIC to lit, nigga\nOnly person in my fam to see six figures\nThe pressure on your shoulders feel like boulders\nWhen you gotta make sure that everybody straight\nBitches stab you in your back while they smilin' in your face\nTalking crazy on your name, trying not to catch a case\nI waited my whole life just to shit on niggas\nClimbed to the top floor so I can spit on niggas\nSaid \"I was just tryna chill and make bangers\" (Bangers)\nTell all these old bitches they in danger (Stop)\nThe thing on my hip whip bitches into shape (Brrrt)\nThat's what I call a fuckin' waist trainer\nYou gon' run up on who and do what? (Who?)\nI think y'all got your story screwed up (Yeah)\nI came here to ball, is you nuts?\nI don't want your punk-ass man, I'm too tough (Facts)\nI'm the one that's killin' shit, hands down (Hands down)\nIf you got a problem with me, say it now (Say it)\n'Cause I don't wanna hear no sneak dissin' (Huh?)\n'Specially not from one you weak bitches\nI'm on go like I don't see no stop lights (Skrrt)\nI'm steppin' out every day, prom night (Facts)\nSo if it's all love, show me love then (Huh?)\n'Cause you hatin' on a bitch, that's what it sounds like\nBeast mode, that's how I give it up, nigga\nHoodie, low, that's how I'm pullin' up\nJust 'cause I been on the road don't mean I been on the run\nAnd you gon' have to learn to hold your tongue or hold the gun (Brrrt, woo)\nAnd we all know you ain't that type (No)\nI smack you and the bitch that you act like (Yeah)\nI started gettin' money, bitches upset (Cash)\nThey remind me of my pussy, bitches mad tight\nNails done, hair laid, keep 'em both laced (Laced)\nCo-come through shinin' with a Rollie bust face (Shine)\nHe-headshot, headshot, tell 'em closed case\nAin't no bitch spittin' like this since '08\nI don't trust no nigga, I don't fear no bitch (Fear no bitch)\nWhole life been through some fucked up shit (Fucked up shit)\nThey say I'm too that, oh, I'm too this\nWhen you see what I've seen, you end up like this (Woo)\nI walked into the label, \"Where the check at?\" (\"Where the check?\")\nCardi B on the charts, ain't expect that\nWhere that bitch that was claimin' she a threat? (Where?)\nI'ma put a Louboutin where her neck at\nThey say I'm too ratchet, they say I act wild (I act wild, wild)\nI'm tryna whip the foreign like a bad ass child (Bad ass child, skrrt)\nThey caught me slippin' once, tell 'em try that now (Try that now)\nCardi B, know it's me, hear that \"blap\" sound (Blap!)\nYou might also like\nMan, I said we gon' win\nKnock me down nine times but I get up ten\nLook myself in the mirror, I say we gon' win\nKnock me down nine times but I get up ten\nLook myself in the mirror, I say we gon' win\nKnock me down nine times but I get up ten\nYeah, but I get up ten\nKnock me down nine times but I get up ten, bitch (Woo)\n\nI'ma make a fuck nigga feel me (Yeah)\nSaid I'ma do a broke bitch filthy (Ah)\nI'ma make a fuck nigga feel me (Grrr)\nSaid I'ma do a broke bitch filthy (Grrr)\n\nWe gon' win\nKnock me down nine times but I get up ten (Woo)\nYeah, I said we gon' win\nKnock me down nine times but I get up ten, bitch (Grrr)"}
{"text":"I'm livin' my best life, yeah, yeah\nI'm livin' my best life\nMade a couple M's, you know (IGH! Huh!)\n\nSaid I'm livin' my best life\nSaid I'm livin' my best life\nMade a couple M's with my best friends\nTurned all my L's into lessons\nYou see the whip pullin' up, it's like \"skrrt\"\nDreams pullin' up, I'm like \"skrrt\"\nI'm livin' my best life\nIt's my birthday, at least that's what I'm dressed like\n\nI'm like Big Pop' mixed with 2Pac, I'm like Makaveli (Yeah)\nYou need some, Little Caesar's pizza, I be hot and ready (Woo)\nNigga, you a pussy and a rat, you like Tom and Jerry\nNigga, you ain't ballin', you just talkin', that's that commentary (Huh)\nI was in the field, man, I slaved for this (Yeah)\nHad to talk to God, dropped down, and prayed for this\nTo my surprise, He replied, said, \"You made for this\"\nI seen the car I wanted, then I went and paid for it, cash cash\nHit the Tay-K, I hit the race, hit the dash dash\nThat's when they came for me on Twitter with the backlash\n\"#CardiBIsSoProblematic\" is the hashtag\nI can't believe they wanna see me lose that bad\nThey talkin' junk and they stink, these hoes mad trash\nI'm gigglin', can't let the devil have the last laugh\nAin't no more beefin', I'm just keepin' to myself\nI'm my own competition, I'm competin' with myself (Brrr)\nYou might also like\nI told y'all, I'm livin' my best life (Woo)\nI told y'all, I said I'm livin' my best life (Ayy)\nI made a couple M's with my best friends\nTurned all my L's into lessons (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nYou see the whip pullin' up, it's like \"skrrt\" (Like skrrt)\nDreams pullin' up, it's like \"skrrt\" (Like skrrt)\nI'm livin' my best life\nIt's my birthday, at least that's what I'm dressed like (Chance, I'm the rapper)\n\nYou don't like money, I can see it your eye\nYou don't like winnin', I can see it in your tie\nBetter be careful with these women when you trickin', send it fly (Sheesh)\nShe count money in her sleep and she don't ever spend the night\nBut she trappin' and she had to make it happen for her life\nDon't be mad because she havin', shit, you had it your whole life\nWe had baggage on our flight, we had badges on our asses\nYou got passes in your life, you had gadgets on your bike\nGod work magic, God work magic, God work magic in my life (Woo)\nAnd that guala like Iyanla 'cause that bag just fixed my life (Woo, woo)\nAnd y'all know good and damn well I don't want no champagne (Woo)\nBut can we please get some more champagne? (Ugh)\nPlease, no Andre, G like 'Venchy\nReach like 'Bron James, pep talk from Yonc\u00e9\n'Member my hands had ash like Pompeii\nNow they hold cash, won't peak like Dante\nI told y'all, I said I'm livin' my best life\nI told y'all, I said I'm livin' my best life (Ayy)\nI made a couple M's with my best friends\nTurned all my L's into lessons (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nYou see the whip pullin' up, it's like \"skrrt\" (Skrrt, skrrt, like skrrt)\nDreams fillin' up, I'm like \"skrrt\" (Like skrrt)\nI'm livin' my best life\nIt's my birthday, at least that's what I'm dressed like\n\nI said I never had a problem showin' y'all the real me\nHair when it's fucked up, crib when it's filthy\nWay-before-the-deal me, strip-to-pay-the-bills me\n'Fore I fixed my teeth, man, those comments used to kill me\nBut never did I change, never been ashamed\nNever did I switch, story stayed the same\nI did this on my own, I made this a lane\nY'all gotta bear with me, I been through some things\nWent from small-ass apartments to walkin' red carpets\nPissy elevators, now every dress is tailored\nThis some real-life fairy tale Binderella shit\nI got further than them hoes said I will ever get\nAnd that only goes to show that only God knows\nI took pictures with Beyonc\u00e9, I met Mama Knowles\nI'm the rose that came from the concrete and arose\nI'm like gold, I'm life goals, man, I'm chosen, I'm floatin', ayy\nI told y'all, I said I'm livin' my best life\nI told y'all, I said I'm livin' my best life (Ayy)\nI made a couple M's with my best friends\nTurned all my L's into lessons (Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey)\nYou see the whip pullin' up, it's like \"skrrt\" (Like skrrt)\nDreams pullin' up, I'm like \"skrrt\" (Like skrrt)\nI'm livin' my best life\nIt's my birthday, at least that's what I'm dressed like\n\nSkrrt skrrt, it's goin' down right now\nSkrrt skrrt, Jamie Foxx in your town like\nSkrrt skrrt, money pilin' up, man\nAll the blessings comin' down\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (You don't know)\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (Ayy)\nYou don't know 'bout nothin'\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (I told y'all, I told y'all)\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (I t-, I told y'all, I told y'all)\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (Told y'all, I t-, I told y'all)\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (You don't know)\nYou don't know 'bout nothin'\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nYou don't know 'bout nothin' (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsWAP (Clean) Lyrics\n**** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some\u2005****\u2005in this house\u2005(Hol' up)\nI said certified freak, seven\u2005days a week\nWet and gushy, make that pullout game weak, woo (Ah)\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, you dealin' with some wet and gushy\nBring a bucket and a mop for this wet and gushy\nGive me everything you got for this wet and gushy\n\nBeat it up, baby, catch a charge\nExtra large and extra hard\nPut this cookie right in your face\nSwipe your nose like a credit card\nHop on top, I wanna ride\nI do a kegel, I'm kinda wild\nLook at my mouth, look at my thighs\nThis water is wet, come take a dive\nTie me up like I'm surprised\nLet's roleplay, I'll wear a disguise\nI want you to park that big Mack truck right in this little garage\nMake me dream, make a stream\nOut in public, make a scene\nI don't cook, I don't clean\nBut let me tell you how I got this ring (Ayy, ayy)\nYou might also like\nGobble me, swallow me, drip down the side of me (Yeah)\nQuick, jump out 'fore you let it get inside of me (Yeah)\nI tell him where to put it, never tell him where I'm 'bout to be (Huh)\nI'll run down on him 'fore I have a (Ayy) runnin' me (Pow, pow, pow)\nTalk your sh\u2013, bite your lip (Yeah)\nAsk for a car while you ride that (Ah) (While you ride that)\nYou really ain't never gotta (Mwah) him for a thang (Yeah)\nHe already made his mind up 'fore he came (Ayy, ah)\nNow get your boots and your coat for this wet and gushy (Ah, ah, ah)\nHe bought a phone just for pictures of this wet and gushy\nPay my tuition just to kiss me on this wet and gushy (Mwah, mwah, mwah)\nNow make it rain if you wanna see some wet and gushy (Yeah, yeah)\n\nLook, I need a hard hitter, need a deep (Ah)\nNeed a Henny drinker, need a (Woo) smoker\nNot a garter snake, I need a king cobra\nWith a hook in it, hope it lean over\nHe got some money, then that's where I'm headed\nCookie A1 just like his credit\nHe got a beard, well, I'm tryna wet it\nI let him (Mmm), now he diabetic\nI don't wanna (Mmm), I wanna (Woo)\nI wanna (Ah), I wanna (Sco')\nI want you to touch (Touch that, huh) that swing in the back of my\nMy talk game is fire, (Dasani) Dasani\nIt's goin' in dry and it's comin' out soggy\nI ride on that thing like the cops is behind me (Yeah, ah)\nThe way that I spit and now he tryna sign me, woo\nYour honor, I'm a freak, handcuffs, leashes\nSwitch my wig, make him feel like he cheatin'\nPut him on his knees, give him somethin' to believe in\nNever lost a fight, but I'm lookin' for a beatin' (Ah)\nIn the food chain, I'm the one that eat ya\nIf he ate my (Ah), he's a bottom-feeder\nBig D stand for big demeanor\nI could make ya bust before I ever meet ya\nIf it don't hang, then he can't bang\nYou can't hurt my feelings, but I like pain\nIf he (Ew) me and ask \"Whose is it?\"\nWhen I ride the (Yeah), I'ma spell my name, ah\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, you dealin' with some wet and gushy\nBring a bucket and a mop for this wet and gushy\nGive me everything you got for this wet and gushy\nNow from the top, make it drop, that's some wet and gushy\nNow get a bucket and a mop, that's some wet and gushy\nI'm talkin' wap, wap, wap, that's some wet and gushy\nMacaroni in a pot, that's some wet and gushy, huh\n\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house\nThere's some **** in this house"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olFran\u00e7aisBickenhead Lyrics\nGoes for all my nasty hoes, yeah\n(A-alright, alright, alright, alright, alright)\nFrom across the globe, woo (Hol' up)\nThis goes for all my nasty hoes, yeah\n(Alright-alright, alright, alright, alright, alright)\nFrom across the globe, look, uh\n\nNow, I said luxury apartments (Wow)\nI'm young and I'm heartless (Yeah)\nThere's a bitch there in my vision that bitch is a target (Brrr)\nLawyer is a Jew, he gon' chew up all the charges\nDon't matter if you fuck with me, I get money regardless (cash)\n\nThat guap, guap, get some chicken\nGuap, guap, get some bread\nGuap, guap, get some chicken\nGuap, guap, get some bread\nBitch you pressed, you can flex\nGet some money, ho, tell me why you stressed\n\nNow I said, hoes down, Gs up (Gs up)\nYou know how I'm rockin', but my watch is freezed up (Ice!)\nI can't wait until they drop that Lamborghini truck (Skrrt!)\nI'm careful where I park it, hoes will have it keyed up\nThem bitches getting beat up (Blatt)\nSlim waist, ass fat (Fat), my shit is caked up\nMy bad bitch at the bank (Yeah), without no makeup\nThis that collard greens, cornbread, neck bone, back fat\nGet it from my mama and you don't know where your daddy at\nKnick-knack, paddywhack, give a dog a bone (Bone)\nPut it on him, then your nigga never comin' home (Home)\nI'ma flex like a 'roid, I'm a ten, she a 'droid\nStupid ho, unimportant, unattractive, unemployed\nYou might also like\nGet some guap, guap, get some chicken\nGuap, guap, get some bread\nGuap, guap, get some chicken\nGuap, guap, get some bread\nBitch, you pressed, you can flex\nGet some money, ho, tell me why you stressed, ugh\nGuap, guap, get some chicken\n\nI need that cheese, shorty\nShow me where it's at (Boy, please, whatever)\nYou play with me (Guap-guap, chicken-chicken)\nI might pop up where you at (boy, please, whatever)\nYou make-believe (Guap-guap, chicken-chicken)\nNow with me it's only facts (Boy, please, whatever)\nExpensive weave, and my checks is worth some racks, ugh\n\nYeah, pop that pussy like you ain't popped that pussy in a while\nPop that pussy like poppin' pussy is goin' out of style\nPop that pussy while you work, pop that pussy up at church\nPop that pussy on the pole, pop that pussy on the stove\nMake that pussy slip and slide, like you from the 305\nPut your tongue out in the mirror, pop that pussy while you drive\nSpread them asscheeks open, make that pussy crack a smile\nLock your legs 'round that nigga, make him give your ass a child (woo)\nGimme some neck, gimme a check\nPussy so good, make a nigga invest\nGet a little spit, I'm gettin' it wet\nI'll get it back up, just give me a sec'\nGive him some vag', I'm gettin' a bag\nGive him some ass, I'm gettin' some Raf\nWhen I'm done, I make him cum, but then, he comin' off that cash\nGet you some guap, guap, get some chicken\nGuap, guap, get some bread\nGuap, guap, get some chicken\nGuap, guap, get some bread\nBitch, you pressed, you can flex\nGet some money, ho, tell me why you stressed, ugh\nGuap, guap, get some chicken\n\nI need that cheese, shorty\nShow me where it's at (Boy, please, whatever)\nYou play with me (Guap-guap, chicken-chicken)\nI might pop up where you at (boy, please, whatever)\nYou make-believe (Guap-guap, chicken-chicken)\nNow with me it's only facts (Boy, please, whatever)\nExpensive weave, and my checks is worth some racks, ugh\n\nAlright-alright, alright, alright, alright, alright\nAlright-alright, alright, alright, alright, alright\nAlright-alright, alright, alright, alright, alright\nAlright-alright, alright, alright, alright, alright"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olFran\u00e7aisMoney Bag Lyrics\nMoney bag, money bag\nMoney bag, bitch, I'm lookin' like a money bag (Yeah)\nMoney bag\nCardi\n\nI do the Maybach on Monday, Ferrari Friday\nThis is sweet pussy Saturday, that's just what Plies say\nI said \"Bae, it's a snack,\" he said it's an entr\u00e9e\nWith them pretty ass twins, you look like Beyonc\u00e9\nLookin' like money bag, money bag, money bag, uh\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag, yeah)\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag, uh\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag)\nHe can tell from the front I got ass behind me\nAnd I park my Bentley truck on my Versace driveway (Skrrt)\nLookin' like money bag, money bag, money bag, uh\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag, yeah)\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag, woo\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag)\nAnd my bitches with me pretty, too, they look like bridesmaids\nAnd they all Bloody Gang, so don't be talkin' sideways\n\nHe said I'm protein thick, you look like a dope fiend, sis\nHe make sure he put Cardi down on his grocery list\nNow why this bitch tryna look on my Snap?\nI take your man and I won't give him back\nI just walk into the booth and attack\nI hit this grind, the roof gon' collapse\nI been broke my whole life, I have no clue what to do with these racks\nWig be laid, waist snatched, ass fat, straight facts\nGot lips like Angelina, Bentley truck tangerine, unh\nTramps jumpin' on my dick, that's why they call it trampoline, uh\nYou might also like\nI do the Maybach on Monday, Ferrari Friday\nThis is sweet pussy Saturday, that's just what Plies say\nI said \"Bae, it's a snack,\" he said it's a entr\u00e9e\nWith them pretty ass twins, you look like Beyonc\u00e9\nLookin' like money bag, money bag, money bag, uh\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag, yeah)\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag, uh\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag)\nHe can tell from the front I got ass behind me\nAnd I park my Bentley truck on my Versace driveway\nLookin' like money bag, money bag, money bag, uh\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag, yeah)\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag, woo\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag)\nAnd my bitches with me pretty, too, they look like bridesmaids\nAnd they all Bloody Gang, so don't be talkin' sideways\n\nThese bitches salty, they sodium, they jelly, petroleum\nAlways talkin' in the background, don't never come to the podium\nChef Cardi B, I'm cookin' up, I see you hoes at the stove again\nWhile you hoes were sleepin' on me, I made 40 bands by 4pm\nThey be taking shots, miss miss, X and O, kiss kiss\nEverythin' your nigga want, I'm like a walkin' wishlist\nI don't understand what this hate is about\nHow you gon' suck yo' man dick with my name in yo' mouth?\nI do the Maybach on Monday, Ferrari Friday\nThis is sweet pussy Saturday, that's just what Plies say\nI said \"Bae, it's a snack,\" he said it's a entr\u00e9e\nWith them pretty ass twins, you look like Beyonc\u00e9\nLookin' like, money bag, money bag, money bag, uh\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag, yeah)\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag, uh\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag)\nHe can tell from the front I got ass behind me\nAnd I park my Bentley truck on my Versace driveway\nLookin' like money bag, money bag, money bag, uh\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag, yeah)\nMoney bag, money bag, money bag, woo\n(Money bag, money bag, money bag)\nAnd my bitches with me pretty, too, they look like bridesmaids\nAnd they all Bloody Gang, so don't be talkin' sideways"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsForeva Lyrics\nSwiftOnDemand\n\nRan down on that bitch twice\nRan down on that bitch twice\nYou know me, I be with whatever\nIf a bitch beef with me, we gon' beef forever\nRan down on that bitch twice\nRan down on that bitch twice\nYou know me, I be with whatever\nIf a bitch beef with me, we gon' beef forever\n\nW\u2014W\u2014Why you always tryna run and hide? (Why?)\nAlways have my name up in your mouth, you outta line\nYou gon' make me pop up at your door like \"surprise\" (Hi)\nLike \"come outside, lil' bitch, come outside\"\nNever by my lonely, got my niggas by my side\nAnd all my niggas skrr skrr, yeah, they down to ride\nYeah, my bitches go to work; I'm talking 9 to 5 (Work)\nThe streets want to fuck around you won't stay alive\nYour mouth can cost you, and I\u2019ll make sure that you pay the price\nSo don't be lackin' when you comin' home from work at night\nYou run your mouth; I'm poppin' out, now it's on sight\nYou\u2014You\u2014You gon' be just like my pussy: hella tight\nA ho can hate, but don't be fucking with my commas (No)\nAnd if she is, I'll shape her up and she gon' get the line up\nCan't be starting all these problems if you cannot solve 'em (Don't do that)\nCardi backing down, I swear to God, that's not an option\nYou might also like\nRan down on that bitch twice\nRan down on that bitch twice\nYou know me, I be with whatever\nIf a bitch beef with me, we gon' beef forever\nRan down on that bitch twice\nRan down on that bitch twice\nYou know me, I be with whatever\nIf a bitch beef with me, we gon' beef forever\n\nSome bitches claim they with the shit, but they ain't with a thing\nI spin the block, come around like a boomerang\nSilence, silence, I don't hear a thing\nWorry 'bout me, but your pussy smell like turtle tank\nI pull up on that check, nothing less, that's all I do\nT\u2014T\u2014Ten bands, fifty bands, ain't nuttin' new\nI see some people who still worried 'bout my revenue (Why you worry?)\nI'm eating good, you wish you could, don't worry about my food\nAnd niggas hating on a female, ain't no way to live (Lil bitch)\nYou bitch-made, make me wonder if you got a dick (Lil bitch)\nHow you feeling like a man envying a chick? (Pussy)\nWake up and go get some money, go and find your niche (Get that money)\nSilly motherfucker (Silly,) who raised you? (Who raised you?)\nA nigga with a pussy? How disgraceful (Oh my God)\nI have my hitters come, and duct tape you\nAnd your bitch could get it too, double date, boo\nSo let's get it, so let's get it, so let's get it\nLet's not waste a minute; you clearly started, so let's finish\nI don't do forgiveness; they take your kindness for a gimmick\nI'm just here for business, I'm running down and I'm with it, bap\nRan down on that bitch twice\nRan down on that bitch twice\nYou know me, I be with whatever\nIf a bitch beef with me, we gon' beef forever\nRan down on that bitch twice\nRan down on that bitch twice\nYou know me, I be with whatever\nIf a bitch beef with me, we gon' beef forever\n\nSwiftOnDemand"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsLick Lyrics\nYeah\nLookin' like I caught a (Look at me)\nCardi (Look at me)\nCardi (Look at me)\nWoah\n\nLookin' like I caught a lick\nRun up on me, you get hit\nAnd all my bitches with the shits\nBronx, New York, gangsta bitch\nLookin' like I caught a lick\nSince Day 1, I've been that bitch\nGot some hittas in my clique\nLookin' like I caught a lick\nLookin' like I caught a lick\n\nLook at me, look at me\nThey ain't like me before, now they bookin' me\nThe glow got bitches so shook at me\nThey like, \"Chef Cardi B, what you cookin' B?\"\nI say, \"Bitches, got me on some new shit\"\nI swear niggas got me feelin' ruthless\nToo much mo'fuckers done doubted me\nThat's why I had to just prove it\nI remember walkin' in the stores, I couldn't buy nothin'\nThey look at me starin'\nNow I just walk in the stores, I like it I cop it\nI don't even think\nBank tellers asking for info\n'Cause now my deposits on Kimbo\nTold that bitch, \"Gimme my money\nWhy the fuck you askin' all this info?\"\nYou might also like\nRun up, get done up\nGot shooters ready for a come up\nPromise you I didn't luck up\nWas grindin' all night\nDidn't sleep 'til the sun up\nNow I got up on my shit\nWalk around like I'm that bitch\nEvery nigga wanna hit\n\nLookin' like I caught a lick\nRun up on me, you get hit\nAnd all my bitches with the shits\nBronx, New York, gangsta bitch\nLookin' like I caught a lick\nSince Day 1, I've been that bitch\nGot some hittas in my clique\nLookin' like I caught a lick\nLookin' like I caught a lick\n\nSee me in my 'bach, now they all surprised\nNow they call my phone, I just press decline\nNot even six seconds, I don't give 'em Vine\nTell 'em, \"Fall back,\" all must recline\nBitches mad as fuck but I don't give a fuck\nNiggas can't believe it, better soak it up\nLookin' like I caught a lick, bitch\nYour nigga got me on his wishlist\nThought I was makin' no moves?\nThought I was gon' be livin' in Sues?\nThought I was makin' no money?\nYou fuckin' thought I was gon' lose\nEverythin' I did, I swear I got paid\nBeen 'bout my money, that ain't gon' change\nBitch, you gon' drown tryna ride on my wave\nCorny ass bitches, I just can't relate\nRun up, get done up\nGot shooters ready for a come up\nPromise you I didn't luck up\nWas grindin' all night\nDidn't sleep 'til the sun up\nNow I got up on my shit\nWalk around like I'm that bitch\nEvery nigga wanna hit\n\nLookin' like I caught a lick\nRun up on me, you get hit\nAnd all my bitches with the shits\nBronx, New York, gangsta bitch\nLookin' like I caught a lick\nSince Day 1, I've been that bitch\nGot some hittas in my clique\nLookin' like I caught a lick\nLookin' like I caught a lick\n\nLook at me\nLook at me\nLook at me\nLook at me"}
{"text":"25 ContributorsBodak Yellow (Latin Trap Remix) Lyrics\n\nKSR (ooh)\nHah, it's Cardi, ayy\nSaid, \"I'm the shit, they can't fuck with me if they wanted to\"\nUmm...\n\nSaid, \"Lil bitch, you can't fuck with me ni aunque t\u00fa quieras\"\nThat's a fact, Cardi B y de el trap soy la mam\u00e1\nHit the store y compro todo lo que quiera comprar (Chin)\nI'm a boss, you a worker, yo a'lante y t\u00fa atr\u00e1s (Wee-ooh)\nEsta canci\u00f3n es pa' mis goonies y mis cuero', \u00a1wuh! (Wuh)\nUn show m\u00edo lo que t\u00fa haces en un a\u00f1o entero\nSi me ves no me saludes, t\u00fa y yo no somos amiga' (Aj\u00e1)\nSi t\u00fa no hace' dinero t\u00fa no eres de las m\u00edas\n\n\u00bfDi'que que t\u00fa puedes contra mi? Vamo' a averiguar\nVamo' all\u00e1, soy rapera y tambi\u00e9n yo s\u00e9 pelear\nYou in the club, t\u00fa chapeando, yo llegando y cobrando\nSiempre estoy depositando, 't\u00e1n cansao' de m\u00ed en el banco (Wuh)\nEn verdad, no me importa a quien yo le caiga mal\nLlevo dos mixtapes en seis meses, nadie me puede parar\nI don't bother with these hoes, don't let these hoes bother me\nAll these bitches son mis hijas, to'as se copian de m\u00ed\nMira, yo me robo a tu novio (Ooh), hago coro con tu esposo\nTu jevo 't\u00e1 aficia'o, s\u00e9 que lo tengo sabroso\nYo se lo pongo en el poso, I'm like, \"Okay\" (Okay)\nYo le pido lo que quiera, \u00e9l me compra mi cartera y una jeepeta\nLo tengo tan aficia'o que hasta me paga mi renta\nSoy la m\u00e1s dura en la calle, know you prolly heard of me\nMe busca, me arregl\u00e9 los dientes, hope you hoes know it ain't cheap\nPago la renta de mi madre y no dependo de nadie\nSi no hablas de dinero es mejor que ni me hables\nYou might also like\nSaid, \"Lil bitch, you can't fuck with me ni aunque t\u00fa quieras\"\nThat's a fact, Cardi B y de el trap soy la mam\u00e1\nHit the store y compro todo lo que quiera comprar\nI'm a boss, you a worker, yo a'lante y t\u00fa atr\u00e1s\nEsta canci\u00f3n es pa' mis goonies y mis cuero' (Wuh, wuh)\nUn show m\u00edo lo que t\u00fa haces en un a\u00f1o entero\nSi me ves no me saludes, t\u00fa y yo no somos amiga' (Aj\u00e1)\nSi t\u00fa no hace' dinero t\u00fa no eres de las m\u00edas\n\n\u00bfDique que t\u00fa puedes contra mi? Suelta eso, bi\nNigga, please, to mis show son pago, ninguno gratis\nCr\u00e9eme a m\u00ed, no hagas que yo coja aqu\u00ed un felony\nI'm the big beef for well, these niggas know my pedigree\nHonestly, I got bad bitches that wanna fuck with me\nSuck on me, ride me crazy y dejarme seco a m\u00ed\nQue yo no 'taba sonando, que no 'taba haciendo bulla\nDique que estaba apagao y pegao con la jeva tuya\nAndo con mi primo Lucas, un corito sano y con par de putas\nLo que tu gasta' una noche en botellas, eso yo lo gasto en refilles de hookah\nLos cueros dicen: \"Messiah 'ta de pinga, porque nos da y despu\u00e9s se embala\"\nA lo mejor ella pensaba que yo iba a darle y despu\u00e9s mudarla\nAndamo' en la calle, o sea en la lleca (Skrt)\nAndamo' fumando peyote, purple haze en mi yerba\nHablan mierda a tu espalda y cuando te ven ellos no dicen na'\nAndo con mi hermano DJ Hova and tonight we gonna shake the block\nSaid, \"Lil bitch, you can't fuck with me ni aunque t\u00fa quieras\"\nThat's a fact, Cardi B y de el trap soy la mam\u00e1\nHit the store y compro todo lo que quiera comprar\nI'm a boss, you a worker, yo alante y t\u00fa atr\u00e1s\nEsta canci\u00f3n es pa' mis goonies y mis cueros\nUn show m\u00edo lo que t\u00fa haces en un a\u00f1o entero\nSi me ves no me saludes, t\u00fa y yo no somos amiga'\nSi t\u00fa no hace' dinero t\u00fa no eres de las m\u00edas"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsPull Up Lyrics\nSwiftOnDemand\n\nHella fake, you better pull up on me\nI hope you feel the same when you see my face, you better pull up on me\nAin't no backin' down, prepared to shake, you better pull up on me\nNow you wanna be my friend, no you ain't safe, you better pull up, homie\nPull up, pull up, pull up, pull up on me\nPull up, pull up, pull up, pull up on me\nI heard you talkin' cray, I know you hella fake, you better pull up on me\nI hope you feel the same when you see my face\n\nNo, I don't think they know\nThey don't know how this go\nThey think I'm broke\nWhat a fuckin' joke\nWhen I walk in the door, I gets my dough\nThen a bitch get low\nI used to kill them poles, now I kill them shows\nThey don't like my growth, well fuck ya hoes\nYeah, 'cause all my bitches that be gettin' with me\nIf I put a fifty, they gon' put a fifty\nEvery night, ask Sue's rendezvous\nIt was Kita, Sweetness, and Ashanti with me\nI had to go get it on some real shit\nIf you a real bitch ,you gon' feel this\nEvery single nigga that came my way\nI finesse and juug on some ill shit\nSo much people think they know my pussy\nBut no one can say they fucked\nPlease show me hoe facts\nName-drop, round 'em up\nThat bum bitch like to run her mouth\nI swear to God I'ma lay her out\nWhen I catch you on the side of town\nMy Guiseppe heels gonna stomp you out\nI'm tired of playin', I'm tired of playin'\nI'ma give you hell, you gon' think I'm Satan\nI see you mad 'cause I'm 'bout to have this whole shit on lock\nIncarceration\nSomeone gave you wrong information\nYou try to play me, that's confirmation\nBut it's all good 'cause when you see my face\nShit don't come out like it's constipation\nYou might also like\nYou stuck, bitch, yeah\nI know it sucks, bitch, yeah\nPull up, bitch, yeah\nLike wassup, bitch, yeah\n\nPull up on me\nI heard you talkin' cray, I know you hella fake, you better pull up on me\nI hope you feel the same when you see my face, you better pull up on me\nAin't no backin' down, prepared to shake, you better pull up on me\nNow you wanna be my friend, no you ain't safe, you better pull up, homie\n\nLet's go, I mean come on now, who you tryna flex for?\nWhy you actin' like I won't leave you down in the ground?\nBut you knew what it was from the get-go\nThat Cardi on some new shit\nGet that money then I go flip\nSome people think I'm just a dumb bitch\nIf that was true I wouldn't have shit, yeah\nBronx bitch 'til the day I die\nI did my dirt and I ain't gotta lie\nYou can talk crazy on IG\nBut when I run up, let them hands fly\nI don't fuck around with no fuckin' clowns\nAny niggas with me, they fuckin' hounds\nAny bitches with me, they fuckin' down\nSo if you really 'bout it, then pull up now\nYou stuck, bitch, yeah\nI know it sucks, bitch, yeah\nPull up, bitch, yeah\nLike wassup, bitch, yeah\n\nPull up on me\nI heard you talkin' cray, I know you hella fake, you better pull up on me\nI hope you feel the same when you see my face, you better pull up on me\nAin't no backin' down, prepared to shake, you better pull up on me\nNow you wanna be my friend, no you ain't safe, you better pull up, homie"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsWashpoppin Lyrics\nI need all my money makers bring that cash out\nI need all my D boys to bring that cash out\nI need all my scammer niggas bring that cash out\nDon't you see these big ass titties and this ass out?\nI need all my money makers bring that cash out\nI need all my D boys to bring that cash out\nI need all my scammer niggas bring that cash out\nDon't you see these big ass titties and this ass out?\n\nLil' trick go bust a band on a bitch\nNow give me all that money you be spending on your chick\nNow give me all that money you be spending on your kid\nNow give me all that money you been stacking for your rent nigga\nI'm just into making money, I ain't into making love\nWhen you hear that stripper hoe, I'm the one you thinking of\nI'm the bitch they love to hate, I'm the bitch they hate and love\nYellow bitch I look like Diamond in Playas Club\nYou want to be my main squeeze baby, don't you?\nYou want to give a bitch a seed baby, don't you?\nYou hit the club with 20 Gs baby, don't you?\nAnd spend that all on Cardi B baby, don't you?\nI need like 10k right now\nI need like 20k right now\nI need like 50k right now\nAll you broke niggas get out the way right now\nYou might also like\nI need all my money makers bring that cash out\nI need all my D boys to bring that cash out\nI need all my scammer niggas bring that cash out\nDon't you see these big ass titties and this ass out?\nI need all my money makers bring that cash out\nI need all my D boys to bring that cash out\nI need all my scammer niggas bring that cash out\nDon't you see these big ass titties and this ass out?\n\nReal niggas fuck with me the bad bitches fuck with me\nSo if you don't it's probably cause you broke or you ugly\nReal niggas fuck with me the bad bitches fuck with me\nSo if you don't it's probably cause you broke or you ugly\nEvery time that I'm on the road\u2014popping\nEvery time that I do a show\u2014popping\nWhen I put this pussy on the pole\u2014popping\nFriends want to have these cornrows\u2014popping\n\nI need all my money makers bring that cash out\nI need all my D boys to bring that cash out\nI need all my scammer niggas bring that cash out\nDon't you see these big ass titties and this ass out?\nI need all my money makers bring that cash out\nI need all my D boys to bring that cash out\nI need all my scammer niggas bring that cash out\nDon't you see these big ass titties and this ass out?\nYou bitches be so fucking thick\nBut it's cool, 'cause I'll be fake too\nNow people be like \"you stupid bitch\"\n\"Strippening over a real job\"\nSo how the fuck about we've been?"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsOn Fleek Lyrics\nI pull up like \"What's up?\", everything on fleek\nI do it nice, seven days a week\nLike oh my, oh my, oh my God\nI don't do nothing for free you know I got to charge\nWhen I'm done, they be like you better\nYou better, you better, you better, you better\nWhen that check come I be like\nYou better, you better, you better, you better\n\nI'm Cardi, exotic, my ice retarded\nI walk in, the party get started\nMurder scene, he want all this\nYour bitch I demolish, on fleek is what you call it\nThis not a game, fuck is you saying?\nBullshit is something I don't entertain\nCome correct if you gon' call out my name\nNot talking money, I'm switching these lanes like swerve\nNow watch me, now watch me, swag surf\nBoy, you better respect the curve\nI'm on my bullshit, fuck what you heard\nOh, you ain't know? Well you gon' learn\n\nI pull up like \"What's up?\", everything on fleek\nI do it nice, seven days a week\nLike oh my, oh my, oh my God\nI don't do nothing for free you know I got to charge\nWhen I'm done, they be like you better\nYou better, you better, you better, you better\nWhen that check come I be like\nYou better, you better, you better, you better\nYou might also like\nFleek, the definition of me\nI keep it in check, papi\nI am a whole different breed\nI'm Cardi, capisce\nThem other ones can't compete\nI make bitches wanna retreat\nI go to the desert for weeks\nWhen I come back I come back with heat\nNow they be all up in my DM\nTryna get Cardi B to PM\nI swear to God I don't see 'em\nI'm high up in the hills like The Weeknd\n\nI pull up like \"What's up?\", everything on fleek\nI do it nice, seven days a week\nLike oh my, oh my, oh my God\nI don't do nothing for free you know I got to charge\nWhen I'm done, they be like you better\nYou better, you better, you better, you better\nWhen that check come I be like\nYou better, you better, you better, you better"}
{"text":"15 ContributorsSelfish Lyrics\nI gave you more than I give myself\nSo loyal to you that I betrayed myself\nWell, I guess I'ma wither away\nYou a snake, and you chose to slither today\nI gave my all; my love and my trust, but\nI guess my all just wasn't enough, yeah\nThere's something about you; I can't help it\nBut I'ma do for myself, I'm being selfish\n\nBabe, your melody is the voice I need\nMakes me skip a beat, yeah\nAnd baby, you know it, yeah\nBut it's hard to show it, yeah, yeah\nSee, the one I love used to be in clubs\nUsed to fuck with thugs, yeah\nAnd I can't expose it, yeah\n'Cause she already know it yeah, but\n\nWhy don't you ask me\nWhy is it so hard to fall in love\nWhy don't you ask me\nWhy can I never ever ever trust?\nWhy don't you ask me\nWhy everything is going in circles\nWhy don't you ask me (I guess you never know)\nYou might also like\nI guess we never know\nThey say the one that you truly love\nHurts you the most\nNow the one that I truly love\nHurt me the most\nNow the one that you truly love\nIs hurting you the most\nI guess I'll never know\nWhy I got so cold, it's not your fault, girl\n\nBe selfish, be selfish\nBe selfish (I\u2019m so cold, girl)\nBe selfish, be selfish\nBe selfish (It\u2019s not your fault, girl)\nBe selfish, be selfish\nBe selfish (I\u2019m so cold, girl)\nBe selfish, be selfish\nBe selfish (It\u2019s not your fault, girl)\n\nWithering away as I gaze at the sky. Looking at his face, and all the pain it caused me. I ask why. Didn't I love? Didn't I give you more than I ever gave myself? What do you wish, 'cause that part of me no longer exist? This time I'm first, I'm picking me, I finally learned to be selfish.Embed"}
{"text":"25 ContributorsCheap Ass Weave Lyrics\nThe nerve of you bitches\nLike, oh my God, I got no words for you bitches\nLike, who's really serving you bitches?\nI need some answers, I'm worried for bitches\nLike, this really absurd\nNo wonder these niggas stay curving you bitches\nDon't even take no more selfies\nThat weave don't even deserve any pictures\nLike, where did you buy that shit?\nWho really acknowledged it?\nWhat made you feel that you would be lit if you went and copped that shit?\nThey tell you ya look good?\nWasn't you iffy?\nOh, I know, they tell you that you get two bundles for fifty\nGirl, you ain't low\nI know how this go\nCheap shoes is okay, cheap dress is okay, but cheap weave is a \"no\"\nDon'tcha do it to yourself that's bad for your health\nDon't fuck up your flow\nTalk shit about me with ya dusty ass weave?\nNow you outta control\nI'm Cardi B, I come through and I kill everything, everything and that's a fact\nGot me on my hitman shit like brrap-brrap-brrap-brrap-brrap-brrap-brrap\nI'm fully reloaded, full clip\nI cut to the chase, snip-snip\nThat weave gotta go, pink slip\nLooking washed up, drip-drip\nYou might also like\nI can't believe it\nThis is insane\nHow can you talk about me when your weave is inside of the grave?\n(It's dead, bitch)\nI can't believe it\nOr is it just me?\nBut why all these bitches just walking the streets with some cheap ass weave\n\nCheap ass weave\nCheap ass weave\nHow everything on fleek when you got some cheap ass weave?\nCheap ass weave\nCheap ass weave\nDon't even step to me if you got some cheap ass weave\n\nSo check yourself before you come at me\nCardi B killing shit, I'm causing casualties\nI am a masterpiece, you are a tragedy\nFinish you like Mortal Kombat; fatality\nI got shit jumping like What a Time...\nLike Jumpman, Jumpman\nThat weave you got should be a crime\nYou got no luck, man\nAnd how you niggas even let them in the crib with that?\nYou know that weave stink, that shit need a Tic Tac\nNow you tell me you pulling hair off your pillows, hair off the sheets, and even hair out your asscrack\nSo cheap weave is okay? I think I missed that\nI see a track showing, you need to fix that\nYou got a braid loose, you need to twist that\nYou got it fucked up, I would never pick that\nLady Leshurr done told y'all to go brush your teeth\nBut after you done, you leave the crib with that cheap ass weave?\nI'm begging Lord, oh God, oh God, oh please, oh please\nPlease just bless these thots, these thots with they cheap ass weave\nI can't believe it\nThis is insane\nHow can you talk about me when your weave is inside of the grave?\n(It's dead, bitch)\nI can't believe it\nOr is it just me?\nBut why all these bitches just walking the streets with some cheap ass weave\n\nCheap ass weave\nCheap ass weave\nHow everything on fleek when you got some cheap ass weave?\nCheap ass weave\nCheap ass weave\nDon't even step to me if you got some cheap ass weave"}
{"text":"20 ContributorsLick (Remix) Lyrics\nYa dig?\nYeah\nLookin' like I caught a (Look at me)\nCardi (Look at me)\nCardi (Look at me)\nWoah\n\nLookin' like I caught a lick (lick, hey!)\nRun up on me, you get hit\nAnd all my bitches with the shits (yeah!)\nBronx, New York, gangsta bitch (woo, woo)\nLookin' like I caught a lick (yeah)\nSince Day 1, I've been that bitch (hey)\nGot some hittas in my clique\nLookin' like I caught a lick (woo, woo, Offset!)\nLookin' like I caught a lick\n\nThey know they can't stop a G\nBitch do not talk to me (yeah)\nDiamonds start hittin', she swallow me (shine)\nPlay with these racks like Monopoly (racks)\nMake her say uh like Master P\nBought the Patek Phillipe, no that bitch wasn't cheap (no)\nThese niggas is pussy, they is what they eat (woo)\nShow after show, I've been countin' all week (woo)\nLamborghini, I just ordered up three (skrrt, skrrt)\nLookin' like I hit a lick and fuckin' on a badder bitch\nFuckin' on your daughter, ask me how I get the water wrist\nThink he poppin' hard but he really wanna take a pic (flash)\nHe can't even believe I done got rich\nWoke up this mornin', I'm countin' this money\nThis water drip off me, a fountain or somethin' (water)\nThese bitches and niggas not 'mountin' to nothin' (nah)\nI keep countin' this money, I keep countin' this money (hey!)\nYou might also like\nRun up, get done up\nGot shooters ready for a come up\nPromise you I didn't luck up\nWas grindin' all night\nDidn't sleep 'til the sun up\nNow I got up on my shit\nWalk around like I'm that bitch\nEvery nigga wanna hit\n\nLookin' like I caught a lick (lick, hey!)\nRun up on me, you get hit\nAnd all my bitches with the shits (yeah!)\nBronx, New York, gangsta bitch (woo, woo)\nLookin' like I caught a lick (yeah)\nSince Day 1, I've been that bitch (hey)\nGot some hittas in my clique\nLookin' like I caught a lick (woo, woo, woo)\nLookin' like I caught a lick\n\nLook at me, look at me\nThey ain't like me before, now they bookin' me\nThe glow up got bitches so shook at me\nThey like, \"Chef Cardi B, what you cookin', B?\"\nI say, \"Bitches, got me on some new shit\"\nI swear niggas got me feelin' ruthless\nToo much mo'fuckers done doubted me\nThat's why I had to just prove it\nI remember walkin' in the stores, I couldn't buy nothin'\nThey look at me stank\nNow I just walk in the stores, I like it I cop it\nI don't even think\nBank tellers asking for info\n'Cause now my deposits on Kimbo\nTold that bitch, \"Gimme my money\nWhy the fuck you askin' all this info?\"\nRun up, get done up\nGot shooters ready for a come up\nPromise you I didn't luck up\nWas grindin' all night\nDidn't sleep 'til the sun up\nNow I got up on my shit\nWalk around like I'm that bitch\nEvery nigga wanna hit\n\nLookin' like I caught a lick (lick, hey!)\nRun up on me, you get hit\nAnd all my bitches with the shits (yeah!)\nBronx, New York, gangsta bitch (woo, woo)\nLookin' like I caught a lick (yeah)\nSince Day 1, I've been that bitch (hey)\nGot some hittas in my clique\nLookin' like I caught a lick (woo, woo, woo, woo)\nLookin' like I caught a lick\n\nLook at me\nLook at me\nLook at me\nLook at me"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsBodak Yellow (Remix) Lyrics\nAyy, ayy, you know, you know why I fuck with Cardi B?\n'Cause they be thinkin', they be thinkin' both of us crazy and shit\nLike this sound like some, some, some, Bodak Orange shit\nOr some, some Kodak Orange shit, man... like... ayy\n\nSaid lil' bitch, you can't fuck with me if you wanted to (ayy, ayy, ayy)\nThese expensive, these is red bottoms, these is bloody shoes\n(woo, woo, woo! yah, yah, they're bloody shoes, bloody shoes)\nHit the store, I can get 'em both, I don't wanna choose (yah, yah, yah, wanna choose, ayy)\nAnd I'm quick, cut a nigga off, so don't get comfortable, look (woo! yah, yah, yah, bih', don't get comfortable, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nI don't dance now, I make money moves (yeah bih', I make money moves, ayy)\nSaid I don't gotta dance, I make money moves, (woo!, bih, I make money moves, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nIf I see you and I don't speak, that means I don't fuck with you (nigga, I don't fuck with you, ayy, I don't fuck with you)\nI'm a boss, you a worker, bitch, I make bloody moves (yah, I make money moves)\n\nI ain't worried 'bout her, that's an old ho\nYou thought I was comin' with my old flow\nKodak ain't com to take no photo\nI don't even pull up in a four door\nI just hit a lick, hit the load though\nAll my life smokin' on JoJo\nHe was just posted up with dough though\nNow he gettin' slammed by the popo\nThuggish, buggish, ruggish shit\nI can't leave the streets, I love this shit\nNever gave a shit 'bout a messy bitch\nI ain't never take a risk for a petty lick\nI'm at Digital Heights and I'm goin' on a heist\nDead presidents, John Kennedy\nDead presidents, pockets Mount Everest\nWhen I step on the scene it's a felony (yeah, yeah)\nChristian Louboutin (yeah)\nThese ain't Louis Vuittons (huh)\nHit a Kodak Bop on nae nae\nI wanna top me a Nae Nae\nNow I'm in a white whip, no mayonnaise\nStole a new car for me, Audi A8\nCardi B brought the beat, told me re-rock the heat\nTry me, I'll do the race like I'm Tay-K\nIt ain't no flockin' over here, lil' buddy\nAll of us zombies over here, lil' buddy\nAll of us robbin' 'cause they love your money\nGot our own money, but we love your money\nCrack a nigga's head wide open like a pumpkin\nJaguar F-Type orange like a pumpkin\nYoung nigga, I got old hundreds\nSmokin' K2 with my bunkie (woo!)\nYou might also like\nLil' bitch, you can't fuck with me if you wanted to (woo!)\nThese expensive, these is red bottoms, these is bloody shoes (woo, woo!)\nHit the store, I can get 'em both, I don't wanna choose\nAnd I'm quick, cut a nigga off, so don't get comfortable, look (ayy, woo!)\nI don't dance now, I make money moves (ayy, ayy)\nSaid I don't gotta dance, I make money moves (woo!)\nIf I see you and I don't speak, that means I don't fuck with you\nI'm a boss, you a worker, bitch, I make bloody moves (bloody moves, bloody moves, bloody moves...)"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsTrust Issues Lyrics\nI don't really trust them no more\nAll these bitches do is talk behind your back, that's a no go\nAnd I don't really stress it no more\nGetting all this money made my heart so cold\nMiddle finger up to you hoes\nHating on me, I'm making moves on the road though\nAnd I don't really trust them no more\nI don't really stress it no more\nI don't be trusting them, I don't be trusting them\nI don't be stressing them, I don't be stressing them\nI swear I just flex on them, I swear I just flex on them\nI swear I just flex on them, I swear I just flex on them\n\nCarbi B, me, bad one\nYou bitches, sad ones\nI just get my money and I style on them\nAll them bitches broke and they mad I just dab on them\nWave bye, hit the gas on them\nI don't say much, I just swag on them\nI be killin' them, I go Fab on them\nLeft right, throwing jabs at them\nNight night, I'ma black on them\nHit the game raw, no Magnums\nCan't stop winning, God, finna go platinum\nYou might also like\nI don't really trust them no more\nAll these bitches do is talk behind your back, that's a no go\nAnd I don't really stress it no more\nGetting all this money made my heart so cold\nMiddle finger up to you hoes\nHating on me, I'm making moves on the road though\nAnd I don't really trust them no more\nI don't really stress it no more\nI don't be trusting them, I don't be trusting them\nI don't be stressing them, I don't be stressing them\nI swear I just flex on them, I swear I just flex on them\nI swear I just flex on them, I swear I just flex on them\n\nNY, Cardi next in line\nYeah, it's my time, real hittas gonna respect mine\nI got deadlines, I'ma hit the headlines\nAin't no bedtime, young boss, nigga, I ain't lying\nI fuck shit up then I come for my checks\nWhat you expect? Cardi in full effect\nI see they mad, I see they vexed\nBut it's not my fault when I shoot it's all net\nLike swish, now they look at the flick of the wrist\nThey sending shots but I swear it's all miss\nCardi fall off, yeah, bitch, you wish\nYou must be drunk off all of those liqs\nI don't be trusting them, I don't be trusting them\nI don't be stressing them, I don't be stressing them\nI swear I just flex on them, I swear I just flex on them\nI swear I just flex on them, I swear I just flex on them\nNY, Cardi next in line\nYeah, it's my time, real hittas gonna respect mine\nI got deadlines, I'ma hit the headlines\nAin't no bedtime, young boss, nigga, I ain't lying"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsUp (Clean) Lyrics\nUp, up, up (Ayy), up (Uh), up, look (This is fire)\nOnce upon a time, man, I heard that I was ugly\nCame from a chick who **** wanna touch on me\n\nI said my face bomb, abs tight\nRacks stack up Shaq height\nJewelry on me, flashlight\nI been lit since last night\nHit him with that good good\nMake you wanna act right\nBroke boys don't deserve no kitty\n(I know that's right)\n\nBig bag bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga\nMan, Balenciaga Bardi back, know how I give it up\nIt's big bags bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga, man\nBirkin bag, Bardi back, know how I give it up\n\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Ayy)\nUp, then it's up, if it's up, then it's stuck (Huh)\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Woo)\nYou might also like\nI could make the party hot, I could make your body rock\nHaters can't do nothin' with me, chances are they probably not\nIf I had a stick, you'd probably lick it like a lollipop\nShorty speakin' cap-enese, hit 'em with karate chop\nI'm forever poppin' it, pullin' up and droppin' it\nGotta argue with him 'cause you know he love a toxic chick\n**** out here playin', gotta make him understand\nIf ain't no ring on my finger, you ain't goin' on my 'Gram\n\nI said my face bomb, abs tight (Yeah)\nRacks stack up Shaq height (Yeah)\nJewelry on me, flashlight (Huh)\nI been lit since last night (Woo)\nHit him with that good good\nMake you wanna act right (Ah)\nBroke boys don't deserve no kitty\n(I know that's right)\n\nBig bag bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga\nMan, Balenciaga Bardi back, know how I give it up (Woo)\nIt's big bags bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga, man\nBirkin bag, Bardi back, know how I give it up\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Ayy)\nUp, then it's up, if it's up, then it's stuck\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Ayy)\n\n**** ain't messin' with me now and I can see why\nDirty, dusty, girl, you got pink eye\nSay they want smoke until I bring it to they doorstep\nPlease tell her back back, breath smell like horse (Ah)\nPut it on him now, he will never be the same (He won't)\nTatted on my back 'cause I really like the pain (Ah)\nHe **** on my ****, I said, \"I'm glad that you came\"\nIf that **** had a twin, I would let 'em run a **** (Skrrt)\n\nBig bag bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga\nMan, Balenciaga Bardi back, know how I give it up (Woo)\nIt's big bags bussin' out the Bentley Bentayga, man\nBirkin bag, Bardi back, know how I give it up (Ooh)\n\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh (Woo)\nUp, then it's up, if it's up, then it's stuck (Woo)\nIf it's up, then it's up, then it's up, then it's stuck, huh\nLook, gotta play it safe, huh\nNo face, no case (Hahaha)Embed"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsSauce Boyz Lyrics\nI hate when I'm using a guy and shit and they start catching feelings and like no matter what I tell them like they just don't stop liking me. Like I be like listen I'm a hoe I don't cook I don't clean like trust me you don't want me to be the mother of your kids. I don't like mother-in-laws and they just be on some sooo you don't gotta meet my mom. Like nigga you don't fucking get it though?\n\nI dont do no sauce niggas (lil bitch)\nPop a pill I abort niggas (lil bitch)\nAnd I don't save them I export niggas (lil bitch)\nYou niggas ass salad tossed niggas (lil bitch)\n(Repeat)\n\nAlways talking about what you got so what you got\nAlways talking about you run that block nigga really what block\nAlways talking about your shooters ha, so who y'all shot?\nAlways talking about your foreign whips nigga, really what lot?\nAlways talking about y'all niggas scam okay you scam\nBut your bank account got 0 dollars, so what's the plan?\nBoy you lying using hella filters this ain't the gram\nBoy I'm hot I use you to cool me down nigga use the fan\n\nI dont do no sauce niggas (lil bitch)\nPop a pill I abort niggas (lil bitch)\nAnd I don't save them I export niggas (lil bitch)\nYou niggas ass salad tossed niggas (lil bitch)\n(Repeat)\nYou might also like\nSome of you niggas is really too soft\nI do y'all like frisbees you niggas get tossed\nAlways emotional blinging my line go find Nemo and nigga get lost\nCannot talk spicy cause you are not hot\nYou are just sauce\nYou bought me a chain, a ring, and a watch but how much it cost\nIt's not expensive then he is a not I'm cutting him off\nThey be like Cardi why you so cold nigga I don't defrost\nAnd I mean it y'all fiending why you scheming\nYou sauce you false won't comment I red beam him\n\nI dont do no sauce niggas (lil bitch)\nPop a pill I abort niggas (lil bitch)\nAnd I don't save them I export niggas (lil bitch)\nYou niggas ass salad tossed niggas (lil bitch)\n(Repeat)"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsBack It Up Lyrics\nYeah\nCardi\nAw yeah\n(Hoodcelebrityy)\n\nHey gyal, beg you listen to my offer\nYuh body, me a beg a likkle wine offer\nThis a nuh sum'n for your smile after\nMe guarantee it a go bun yuh like lava\n\nBack it up for me\nBack it up for me, girl\nBack it up for me\nBack it up for me\n\nBack it up, I'm sittin' while me back it up\nSo me jack it up, sit down pon di cocky suh\nHim wah his cocky suck, so me take me tongue and plap it up\nSuck 'til cocky bruk, em seh gyal how you suh sloppy suh\nBwoy, you a deal wid di realest\nAnd when me a cum, you gon' feel it\nGive you the best fuckin' of yuh life\nThe way me back it up, me swear you naa go leave tonight\nHey boy, watch how me a go put pah yuh\nThe way me deal wid it, dem call me cumy master\nDah pussy tight, so yuh cum faster\nAnd when me done wid you, you a go need wata\nYou might also like\nBack it up for me\nBack it up for me, girl\nBack it up for me\nBack it up for me\n\nGyal, mek it clap fi di Don\nBack it up pon me, me have di cash inna hand\nPussy a buss out a di damn piece a thong\nSo me love when gyal grab the mic, sing a song\nThat's right, yuh titty dem a buss out a yuh dress like\nThe strippers dem a wah yuh dress like\nDem gyal deh me love, dem have the best vibe\nMe woulda fuck yuh 'til death and fuck yuh inna the next life\n\nHey gyal, beg you listen to my offer\nYuh body, me a beg a likkle wine offer\nThis a nuh sum'n for your smile after\nMe guarantee it a go bun yuh like lava\n\nBack it up for me\nBack it up for me, girl\nBack it up for me\nBack it up for me\nYuh say yuh love it how me back it up\nPussy fat, print out, me nuh affi pack it up\nPosition, look round a back, how you a mash it up\nPussy nice and firm, it get the cocky tough\nWooii, yuh say me bad, yuh need a wine afta\nAnd the pussy, yah sumn you'd a die afta\nGive it to you one time, you woulda cry afta\nBut me nuh waa nuh watchman weh come fi spy afta, wooii\n\nHey gyal, beg you listen to my offer\nYuh body, me a beg a likkle wine offer\nThis a nuh sum'n for your smile after\nMe guarantee it a go bun yuh like lava\n\nBack it up for me\nBack it up for me, girl\nBack it up for me\nBack it up for me"}
{"text":"12 ContributorsLit Thot Lyrics\nDeal with them no no\nDeal with them I can't\nPeanut butter ass work\nFuck around and get jammed\nCardi in this bitch you better understand\nI flip the script and kill shit now they want to hold my hand\n\nI be that hood bitch from that block\nIt's my hood on top\nWhy you asking all them questions you a cornball you get popped\nI'm really with the shits I'm a real bitch I don't flop\nThey ask who I be I'm that east coast lit thot\nYeah I gives it up I gives it up I gives it up and that's word\nThese cats got no stacks man they fucking get on my nerves\nI gives it up I gives it up I gives it up and that's word\nAnd if you ain't talking about money then I'm pitching nothing but curves\n\nOh they mad Ima keep them mad oh they hella sick\nSee me stunting see me getting bands oh yeah hella bricks\nCardi looking good in this shit oh yeah hella fit\nRun up on me wrong they pop the trunk on you elephants\nYou don't know me hoe you don't know me bro you don't know me just move\nI A-L-T control delete and get your ass removed\nThat fuck shit that truck shit I do not approve\nYou niggas with that shrimp dicks be fucking up my mood\nYou might also like\nI be that hood bitch from that block\nIt's my hood on top\nWhy you asking all them questions you a cornball you get popped\nI'm really with the shits I'm a real bitch I don't flop\nThey ask who I be I'm that east coast lit thot\nYeah I gives it up I gives it up I gives it up and that's word\nThese cats got no stacks man they fucking get on my nerves\nI gives it up I gives it up I gives it up and that's word\nAnd if you ain't talking about money then I'm pitching nothing but curves\nDeal with them no no\nDeal with them I can't\nPeanut butter ass work\nYou fuck around and get jammed\nCardi in this bitch you better understand\nI flip the script and kill shit now they want to hold my hand\n\nJust get up off me just get up off me just get up off me you fake\nYou talking all that tough shit but quick to talk to the jakes\nLet a bitch try me that's these red bottoms to the face\nNigga hating hoes ain't got no clout that's Superman with no cape\nAll I need is Coronas and I'm set for the night\nLet a bitch act up just know it's on sight\nThey mad cause my time came and I didn't miss my flight\nFuck you thought a bitch was gonna be down her whole life\nBitch no\nI be that hood bitch from that block\nIt's my hood on top\nWhy you asking all them questions you a cornball you get popped\nI'm really with the shits I'm a real bitch I don't flop\nThey ask who I be I'm that east coast lit thot\nYeah I gives it up I gives it up I gives it up and that's word\nThese cats got no stacks man they fucking get on my nerves\nI gives it up I gives it up I gives it up and that's word\nAnd if you ain't talking about money then I'm pitching nothing but curves"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsHectic Lyrics\nKSR\nCardi\nHardwerk\n\nAyo, step up in the spot, you know who I be\nCouple bottles pop in the VIP\nDancin' all up on the couch, shakin' my ass\nProbably leave with ya man, grand larceny\nBitch, pardon me, you don't wanna start with me\nI be out here gettin' cash, you be on the thottery\nI be in the trap, chasin' chips like the lottery\nYou ain't bout that life, you don't be like Cardi B\nAll my gettin'-shmoney hoes, throw ya hands up\nYeah, you cute but you gon' have to pull ya pants up, yeah\nI see you over there checkin' out my thick thighs, tetas\nSee, I gotta smart mouth and what?\nKeep it litty for my city, NYC\nTake the whole nut, ain't worried 'bout no Plan B\nYeah, I'm nasty, lick my lips, blow a kiss\nAnd walk off with a hunnid thou' on my wrist\nSwish, I ain't with the politics\n\"A hoe never gets cold,\" you know what the motto is\nUnless it's baguettes diamond cuts, gold bottles, bitch\nSittin' in that 6, frostbit, feelin' hella lit\nYou might also like\nHectic, hectic\nWhen I pull up it gets hectic, hectic\nDon't worry 'bout what's on my left wrist, it cost a check, bitch\nIf I'm in the spot, I'm slayin' shit, I'm in the best fit\nHectic, hectic\nWhen I pull up it gets hectic, hectic\nDon't worry 'bout what's on my left wrist, it cost a check, bitch\nIf I'm in the spot, I'm slayin' shit, I'm in the best fit\n\nNY, do or die, yeah, I got this\nKSR, chill y'all, yeah, I got this\n40 those, 2 seater in the cockpit\nAnd I'm a freak so you know that bitch topless\nYou a hot mess, that's a fact though\nUnderstood the life, bitch, you know how that go\nA lot of thots out here plottin' on my cash flow\nBut I'm a queen just tryna build the castle\nYou a fiend, you all up in my asshole\nI cause a scene and give you what you ask for\nHair did, manicure, so ready, check\nAttitude have to be so petty, yep\nI'm in it this year, a minute to spare, I swear\nMy vision is clear, y'all bitches beware, I'm here\nShowstopper, Ms. Life of the party, yeah\nTop shotta, no filter, Young Cardi, yeah\nHectic, hectic\nWhen I pull up it gets hectic, hectic\nDon't worry 'bout what's on my left wrist, it cost a check, bitch\nIf I'm in the spot, I'm slayin' shit, I'm in the best fit\nHectic, hectic\nWhen I pull up it gets hectic, hectic\nDon't worry 'bout what's on my left wrist, it cost a check, bitch\nIf I'm in the spot, I'm slayin' shit, I'm in the best fit"}
{"text":"15 ContributorsStripper Hoe Lyrics\nI'm your...\n\nYo, I'm Cardi B with the wicked flow\nAsk them, I keep them niggas on their tippy toes\nNick-nack-paddy-wack, give a dog a bone\nGot him runnin' home, fuck him good, get that money flow\nPussy got him goin' places he would never go\nPussy got him cookin', now he wanna clean the stove\nPussy got him fucked up, I think he overdosed\nBut I ain't Travis Scott, I ain't got no antidote\nAntidote, antidote\n\nI think I like that\nI think I like that\nI think I like that\nI think I like that\n\nYo, some people know me as a stripper hoe\nBut stripper hoes get the money and blow digits though\nA lot of bitches talkin' down on me like I'm a joke\nTalk shit, I'll fuck your man, send him back hella broke\nI'm laughin', but I really mean it though\nI'm on another level like I'm playin' Mario\nThese bitches can't see me, even with a telescope\nEvery day I'm shittin' on 'em, I don't flush the toilet bowl\nEw! Cause I be workin' and workin'\nAll these heads I be turnin', they on my body like surgeons\nI think they see my conversion\nThat's why they be lurkin', but their feelings be hurtin'\nOr remember when I wanna dance at certain clubs\nAnd they told me, \"No, no, that's a dub\"\nNow they the same niggas blowin' up my phone\nWantin' me to host, oh word? That's a dub\nBands\nYou might also like\nI think I like that\n(I know, I know they're mad now)\nI think I like that\nI think I like that\n(Hurtin' my feelings)\nI think I like that\n\nWhen I come up in the building I initiate\nI'm the reason why the fuckers gotta renovate\nI'm eatin' good and they mad they can't get a plate\nNever thought we'd be gettin' booked in different states\nBefore the century they didn't even look this way\nNow they wanna eat my ass like a skirt steak\nGot 'em sending gifts, it's not even my birthday\nYou niggas soft and I meant that in the worst way\nOh you bitches suckin' dick just to get a bag\nYou hustlin'-backwards ass bitch, you're doin' bad\nIt's pretty sad, you should be getting more than that\nSuck a dick so you can pay your rent, couple months with that\nI mention flow, keep it on the low, I tell you facts\nWhen a nigga 'bout to cum, just throw it back\nIt's over, you won, that nigga trapped\nAnd that bank account, girl? Empty that"}
{"text":"19 ContributorsBronx Season Lyrics\nOh, how you doin'?\nI'm alright\nHahaha\nMan, turn this shit up, man\nAy, Cardi, you got something to say?\nYou got something to say, talk to \u2018em\nCardi!\n\nNow how much times do I gotta prove these niggas wrong?\nAnd how much times I gotta show these bitches I ain't soft?\nHow many shows I gotta sell out 'fore ya\u2019ll get the cost?\nWhy they really tryna front like I ain't hit the charts?\nAll these labels, throwin' deals from left to right\nBut I ain't givin' in until they get them numbers right\nAll these people think that this shit happened overnight\nAll that flexin' they be doin', shit is all a hype\nNo tolerance for a hatin' bitch talkin' shit\nOnly time I hold my tongue is when I'm suckin' dick\nSo when I see you in the streets, yeah, it's fuckin' lit\nAnd don't be talkin' all that sorry shit, don't flip the script\nI see the lights, I hear the hype, I hit the mic\nI kill the show, I get my dough, I catch a flight\nI see a hater, I'm runnin' down, it's on sight\nI throw my hands, I hit em' left, I hit em' right\nThey sleepin' on me just because I used to strip\nBut it's all good 'cause now they wanna get up in my VIP\nBlowin' up my phone, sayin' everythin' I touch is lit\nActin' corn and wanna fuck me like they wasn't talkin' shit, whoa\nI let 'em live, let the shady motherfuckers live\nGive them the price then it's time to show them what it is\nDon't got the bat? Well then, what you really tryna pitch?\nDon't waste my time, I ain't never been no average bitch\nNot to mention, I did my tour and that shit was winnin'\nIndependent, the headline, award of feelin'\nI thank the Lord for every blessing that he has given\nI love the fans, they fill me up with that ammunition\nI don't really talk shit but now I gotta off this\nI don't know why bitches think we work in the same office\nCorny bitches tryna keep up? Look exhausted\nWave the white flag, girl, you might as well just forfeit\nMy ex told me I was never gon' be shit\nLookie, lookie now, lookie now, nigga, I'm that bitch\nWhat you thought? Yeah, you really lost, now you kinda sick\nBut I ain't never need a nigga, I was always on my shit, yeah\nI used to stare at magazines on the train\nLookin' at these models like, \"I gotta be this one day\"\nFuck around, got myself a name, now I'm gettin' paid\nLeft the corny bitches in the grave, so they throwin' shade\nYou might also like\nOh my gawd, oh my gawd\nI don\u2019t know why I gotta prove myself to people that\u2014\nThat I\u2019m deadass with this shit, like\u2014\nWhat the fuck, do I gotta sell my soul or something?\nDo I gotta sell my pussy or something?\nLike, I\u2019m deadass, I\u2019m so tired of ya\u2019ll, my gawd\nOh hey!Embed"}
{"text":"10 ContributorsWAP (Demo) LyricsLyrics from Snippet\nCardi!\nHop on top (Uh), I wanna ride\nI do a kegel, while it's inside\nSpit\u2005in\u2005my mouth, look\u2005in my eyes\nPussy is wet, come\u2005take a dive\nTie me up like I'm surprised\nThere's roleplay, I wear a disguise\nI want you to park that Big Mack Truck right in this little garageYou might also likeEmbed"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsBooty* LyricsLyrics from Snippet\n\nBardi! (Bardi Bardi)\n\nBooty so stupid it's a motherfucking retard\nI'm from the Bronx, but my booty from the DR\nBooty so big I don't need to have titties (Titties)\nBooty prolly get a job at Magic City (Magic City)\nBooty so poppin' have your girl doin' research\nI'm the white stain on the bottom of his t-shirt\nBooty so big have you calling outta work, nigga\nDrop it down, fuck around, I might hurt niggas\nBooty so big that it swallow up panties\nSame with these hoes, swallow up the Xanny\nI'm Cardi B, I go Rah with my Jammies\nBooty on the track, fuck around and win a Grammy\nThey call me Cardi, code red, lightskinned, bone legged\nTell him throw more bread, I put it on his forehead\nI remember when I used to pay bills with it\nNow I just \nBooty so big have to question a nigga dick game\nBooty so big that it got its own nickname\nBooty so big that it got its own ZIP code\nBooty so big You might also like"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsStyling* LyricsLyrics from snippet\n\nStylin' on these hoes, I'm stylin' on these hoes\nI be stylin' on these hoes, I'm stylin' on these hoes\n wrist full of gold\nI be stylin' on these niggas, stylin' on these hoes\nGrind up a check, got it at the store\nRunnin' through the checks till the club close\nStylin' on these niggas, stylin' on these hoes\nI be stylin' on these bitches, stylin' on these hoes\n\nI gotta get it, I need the chicken, I need the bread\nThat's why I'm workin' and I'm in the Benz 'cause you in the bed\nBitches is sleepin', fuck is they thinkin'? What is you doin'?\nThen they be mad, lookin' at me like I did something to 'em, uh\nBank account on racks, pussy still on drip drop\nPut this pussy on wax, took me straight to the tip top\nI might race with the Wraith, ain't no space in the safe\nNext bitch in my face catchin' case, catchin' case\nBut anywho, anywho, Birkin bag, Jimmy Choos\nAll my bitches say \"Eeeeooowwww!\", all my guns go \"Boom!\"\nMore guns than the warden, smack hoes with my Jordans\nPussy's floodin' New Orleans, kiss a bitch and I'm gorgeous\nNever been no pussy, yo, I'm always with the shits\nI ain't never been no dirty broad but now I'm filthy rich, bitch bitch!\nYou might also like\nStylin' on these hoes, I'm stylin' on these hoes\nI be stylin' on these hoes, I'm stylin' on these hoes\n wrist full of gold\nI be stylin' on these niggas, stylin' on these hoes\nGrind up a check, got it at the store\nRunnin' through the checks till the club close\nStylin' on these niggas, stylin' on these hoes\nI be stylin' on these bitches, stylin' on these hoes\n\nMoney, money, money, money's all I think of\nI swear to God, I wake up and get the green stuff\nYou put your money on these hoes, get your refund\nI just got my nails did, I just got my weave done\nIf you want a fly press put Bardi on that shit\nI just bought a new gun, put a body on that shit\nShe upstairs, I'ma wait in the lobby for that bitch\nI got my bitch and a man that can buy me all that shit\nYou can find my fine ass\nBathtub with a wine glass\nAll these hoes wanna bring me down\nI don't never ever mind that\nCan you show me where your money is?\n'Cause I know where mine's at\nAll the energy you put in me\nYou just tryna get the top back\nLately I been on some conceited shit\n'Cause I don't need a bitch\nBlast off, I don't feed a bitch\nThat's how I treat a bitch\nIn my hood I got hella stripes\nStraight Adidas shit\nHope she got the same energy\nWhen I see that bitch, bitch!\nStylin' on these hoes, I'm stylin' on these hoes\nI be stylin' on these hoes, I'm stylin' on these hoes\n wrist full of gold\nI be stylin' on these niggas, stylin' on these hoes\nGrind up a check, got it at the store\nRunnin' through the checks till the club close\nStylin' on these niggas, stylin' on these hoes\nI be stylin' on these bitches, stylin' on these hoes"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsI Like It (Kontra K & AK Ausserkontrolle Remix) Lyrics\nYeah baby, I like it like that\nYou gotta believe me when I tell you\nI said I like it like that\nYou gotta believe me when I tell you\nI said I like it like\u2014\n\nNow I like dollars, I like diamonds, I like stuntin', I like shinin'\nI like million dollar deals, where's my pen? Bitch I'm signin' (signin')\nI like those Balenciagas (those), the ones that look like socks\nI like going to the jeweler, I put rocks all in my watch (cha-ching)\nI like texts from my exes when they want a second chance (what?)\nI like proving niggas wrong, I do what they say I can't (she can't)\nThey call me Cardi Bardi, banging body, spicy mami, hot tamale\nHotter than a Somali, fur coat, Ferrari (rrr, woo)\nHop out the stu', jump in the coupe (coupe)\nBig Dipper on top of the roof\nFlexing on bitches as hard as I can\nEating halal, driving the Lam'\nTold that bitch I'm sorry though (sorry)\n'Bout my coins like Mario (Mario)\nYeah, they call me Cardi B\nI run this shit like cardio\nWoo, Facts\nYou might also like\nDiamond district in the jag (I said I like it like that)\nCertified, you know I'm gang, gang, gang, gang (I said I like it like\u2014)\nDrop the top and blow the brains, woo (I said I like it like that)\nOh, he's so handsome, what's his name? Yeah (I said I like it)\nOh, I need the dollars, cha-ching (I said I like it like that)\nBeat it up like pi\u00f1atas (I said I like it like\u2014)\nTell the driver, close the curtains (I said I like it like that, skrrt)\nBad bitch make you nervous (I said I like it)\n\nIch mag die Liebe, mag die Stille, mag den Hustle, den wir leben (leben)\nHass' die Falschheit vieler Blender, aber lieb' Ganovenehre (wooh)\nIch mag Leute, die nicht quatschen, sondern lieber stille Wasser\nUnd statt Gold sammeln wie Inkas lieber 'ne Finca f\u00fcr meinen Vater (ahh)\nMeine Gang regiert den Plaza, alle meine Jungs sind on fuego\nWas f\u00fcr Hahn im Korb? Ich seh' maximal nur Calimeros\nGangster schweigen und genie\u00dfen, also quatsch mir nicht, Pendejo\nDenn ein R\u00fcckgrat ist mehr wert als die Taschen voll Dinero\nGeld kommt, Geld geht, aber Familie bleibt\nDer innere Kreis elit\u00e4r und klein\nAuch wenn der Teufel viele Gesichter zeigt\nGott sei Dank nicht meins (meins)\nJeder testet, jeder redet, jeder schneidet sich ins Fleisch\nIch halt' meine Leute, halt' meine Ziele, meine Versprechen immer ein (ein)\nCourage \u00fcber Fame (Fame)\nUnd lieber W\u00f6lfe, die noch bei\u00dfen, als die K\u00f6ter, die nur bell'n\nKlasse \u00fcber Geld\nUnd lieber Loyalit\u00e4t f\u00fcr meine Gang als den Erfolg nur f\u00fcr mich selbst (selbst, selbst)\nDiamond district in the jag (I said I like it like that)\nCertified, you know I'm gang, gang, gang, gang (I said I like it like\u2014)\nDrop the top and blow the brains, woo (I said I like it like that)\nOh, he's so handsome, what's his name? Yeah (I said I like it)\nOh, I need the dollars, cha-ching (I said I like it like that)\nBeat it up like pi\u00f1atas (I said I like it like\u2014)\nTell the driver, close the curtains (I said I like it like that, skrrt)\nBad bitch make you nervous (I said I like it)\n\nFr\u00fcher ist Papa zur Arbeit mit Tickets gefahr'n\nHeute sitzt Papa im dickesten Wagen\nWeil wir bizzy war'n, weil wir, weil wir bizzy war'n\nMeine Devise ist klar, einhundert Riesen in bar\nAK Syndicat, AK AK-Syndicat\nEgal, ob Benza oder Siebener, wir fahr'n vor\nDas ist gangster, unser Leben einfach hardcore\nTatort, fliehen vom Tatort\nTatort, fliehen vom Tatort\nMach' Kilo f\u00fcr Kilo weg, salame, salame\nSie machen Minus jetzt, jealousi, jealousi\nWir sind Jungs, die immer mehr woll'n\nRolex am Gelenk, unsere Zeit ist wertvoll\nKeine Hunderttausend-Euro-Schecks\nNein, nein, ich will alles bar, bar, bar\nMeine Jungs und ich verkaufen Flex\nSteig ein, doch ich will alles bar, bar, bar\nDiamond district in the jag (I said I like it like that)\nCertified, you know I'm gang (I said I like it like\u2014)\nDrop the top and blow the brains, woo (I said I like it like that)\nOh, he's so handsome, what's his name? Yeah (I said I like it)Embed"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsLeave That Bitch Alone Lyrics\nCardi\nCardi B\n\nLeave that bitch alone\nLeave that bitch alone\nYou knew that I was crazy\nWhy the fuck you took her home?\nNow I'm goin' through your phone\nSeein' all these hoes\nYou knew that I don't like her\nWhat type of crazy shit you on?\n\nYou want me to come to your crib and get comfortable\nWhat if I wanna move in and shit?\nI will show up on some random shit\nDon't let me catch a bitch, you wanna chance that shit?\nYou should just dead it\nI swear to God you gon' regret it\nWatch when I start askin' you:\nWhy the fuck you take so long to answer my message?\nThe fuck you gon' tell me?\nOh, you with the homies?\nDon't even think you can curve me for some other pussy\n'Cause it can get ugly\nBoy, I be on some other shit\nJust lettin' you know wassup\n'Cause if I ever find out 'bout that other bitch\nBoy, you gon' get that bitch cut\nYou might also like\nI'm not the one\nI don't know why would you try it\nTrust me, my nigga, just know I will beat all of them judges\nI swear I'm not lyin'\nPussy was good\nPussy was perfect\nBut watch when I pop all ya tires and key up ya whip\nLike, \"I hope it was worth it\"\n\nLeave that bitch alone\nLeave that bitch alone\nYou knew that I was crazy\nWhy the fuck you took her home?\nNow I'm goin' through your phone\nSeein' all these hoes\nYou knew that I don't like her\nWhat type of crazy shit you on?\n\nWhat if I tell you I wanna be wifey?\nWhat you gon' tell me, I might be?\nThen I'ma want ya password to ya Twitter, ya Facebook\nAnd even ya IG\nBoy, it's a wrap\n'Cause I got the gat\nAnd I will blow all them bitches that's all in ya DMs\nJust don't call me back, nigga\nPlease don't be dumb\nMy hair always in a bun\nYou know what that means, I'll be ready for war\nAnd remember I got a gun\nI be on some other shit\nJust lettin' you know from now\nSo when that time come around and I do catch you lackin'\nMove outta town\nI'm tellin' you\nI don't be with all that crying\nIf I get her or you fuck with motions\nI'm gon' light ya girl on fire\nPussy was good\nPussy was perfect\nBut if I ever pop up on you fuckin' that bitch\nBoy, you gon' need a surgeon\n\nLeave that bitch alone\nLeave that bitch alone\nYou knew that I was crazy\nWhy the fuck you took her home?\nNow I'm goin' through your phone\nSeein' all these hoes\nYou knew that I don't like her\nWhat type of crazy shit you on?\n\nLeave that bitch alone"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsB.O.N LyricsFuck all that talking shit\nFuck all that stalling shit\nI came here to eat\nI ain't with that starving shit\nBeen on the hustle since young, so I been involved in shit:\nThe fakes, the snakes, heartbreaks-- I mean all of it\nI'm in my zone now and I ain't gon fold up\nThey like Cardi all grown up yea bitch I glo'ed up\nThey ain't see the blizzard coming these niggas done froze up\nThey mad they been sleeping on me just be like you woke up\nI don't make scenes I just make movies\nClip after clip after clip call it a uzi\nI feel like a bad ass, I feel like I'm Boosie\nThey quick to judge a bitch just wish they knew me\nI know a couple hittas done pulled a couple triggers\nViolate me they gon come and get you\nAnd I'm tired of y'all baby mamas y'all nothing but drama\nAlways worrying about the new bitch why you so foolish watching my moves you like how I do shit\nI make you feel insecure but that's not my problem\nJust worry about your kid and I'ma keep popping my collar\nAnd for those who want to know I'm not your average hoe\nI be on my bullshit, but yea I got standards though\nYeah I fucked a couple niggas pulled a couple tricks\nBust a couple splits sucked a couple dicks\nBut there is a story to everything and that's just real shit\nMy family had to eat and I had to pay the rent\nIf it's green I'ma get it please stay the fuck out my business\nBitch try me I promise you get it\nBitch try me there will be no winning\nGotta watch all these faces there's too many counterfeits\nSometimes when you hear them say I got you you can't even count on it\nThat's why I fuck with my bitches only my bitches\nMy day one bitches so please do not fuck with my bitches\nThat's a brick in your face and you gon need stitches\nI see that you moving suspicious\nThat's word to my niece I'm not kidding\nI fuck with them BONs and they get viciousYou might also like"}
{"text":"9 ContributorsWith That Lyrics\nHundred band, hundred band\nI'm 'bout my bread I got to get this shmoney man\nThey fuck with my shmoney I'm sending them shots I watch them do the running man\nI'm with the shits if a nigga want this he gon' have to buy all of that\nI'm with the shits if a nigga want this he gon' have to buy all of that\nHe just want to splurge and its ok I'm so cool with that\n5 thousand on a purse yeah baby boy I'm so cool with that\nFuck him so good he gonna want to go spend all that\nPussy got him on the jugg he gonna re-up and come right back\n\nNo I'm not cool, 'cause bitch I'm bool\nAnd I'm been jacking that ever since school\nSo don't be a fool\nRun up on me got mechanics with tools\nAnd they ain't scared to lose\nThey had me on snooze\nNow when I host it's is a zoo\nWhen the host is a zoo\nGot me a check I got a check\nFeeling so blessed\nDoing a lot more than what they expect\nI'm in my prime everything in effect\nAnd I'm so cool with that\nThis hustle not new to that\nSell out these spots got 'em thinking like who did that\nThis new bitch from the Bronx\nThe one that you slept on for so long so cool all that, cool all that\nYou might also like\nHundred band, hundred band\nI'm 'bout my bread I got to get this shmoney man\nThey fuck with my shmoney I'm sending them shots I watch them do the running man\nI'm with the shits if a nigga want this he gon' have to buy all of that\nI'm with the shits if a nigga want this he gon' have to buy all of that\nHe just want to splurge and its ok I'm so cool with that\n5 thousand on a purse yeah baby boy I'm so cool with that\nFuck him so good he gonna want to go spend all that\nPussy got him on the juug he gon' re-up and come right back\n\nHe want to dab in this pussy but I don't think he get the picture\nHe ask me what I want I tell him, make me look like Sub-Zero sister\nI'm talking that ice, just ignore the price or I might just dismiss ya\nDon't do broke niggas, ain't no joke nigga 'cause the pussy delicious\nBitches mad at me cause I'm on my shit\nI know they doubted me cause I used to strip\nBlew on IG on some regular shit, then she to TV on some degular shit\nWhen I pull up on that bitch for talking that shit amnesia kick in and I swear they forget\nThen I think to myself they ain't fuck with my money then I keep it pushing watch out lil' bitch\n\nHundred band, hundred band\nI'm 'bout my bread I got to get this shmoney man\nThey fuck with my shmoney I'm sending them shots I watch them do the running man\nI'm with the shits if a nigga want this he gon' have to buy all of that\nI'm with the shits if a nigga want this he gon' have to buy all of that\nHe just want to splurge and its ok I'm so cool with that\n5 thousand on a purse yeah baby boy I'm so cool with that\nFuck him so good he gonna want to go spend all that\nPussy got him on the jugg he gon' re-up and come right backEmbed"}
{"text":"9 ContributorsTrick Lyrics\nBoy you a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nYou ain't nothing but a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nYou catching feelings like a ho you's a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nNo love no love for a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nNo love no love for a\n\nRule number one, if you ain't paying that's a no\nRule number two, tricks wait at the door\nRule number three, don't you tell me about your kids cause I don't give a fuck nigga I'll tell you how it is\nRule number four, you ain't never fucking raw no matter how much money is involved fuck you thought\nRule number five, I need unlimited supply whatever I want you buy\nRule number six, when we in the club don't be taking all the pics\nPay for the licks, you ain't getting no kiss nigga\nI ain't your bitch nigga, you ain't shit nigga, no hugs no love you's a\n\nBoy you a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nYou ain't nothing but a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nYou catching feelings like a ho you's a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nNo love no love for a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nNo love no love for a\n\nRule number seven, when you take me out to eat after that day you can't see me for the week\nRule number eight, you can't call me babe boy we don't relate let's get that shit straight\nRule number nine, I ain't tryna wine and dine I'm just tryna shop bust a nut then goodbye\nRule number ten, when that bank account ends I find a new trick let the new games begin\nI'm such a ho ass bitch\nBig thot big thot\nYou thought I like you for you noooo\nYou think we have something in common\nYou might also like\nBoy you a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nYou ain't nothing but a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nYou catching feelings like a ho you's a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nNo love no love for a trick, trick, trick, trick, trick\nNo love no love for a"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsWhat A Girl Likes Lyrics\nGimme shmoney, gimme gimme shmoney\nGimme shmoney, gimme gimme shmoney\nYeah, it's what a girl like\nYeah, it's what a girl like\nI don't want ya man, I just want this shmoney\nI don't want ya man, I just want this shmoney\nThat's what a girl like\nThat's what a girl like\n\nGimme money, all I want is money\nI'm Cardi B, all I know is shmoney shmoney\nBeat ya bitch, if it's not green then back up off me\nFuck it send em' EBTs, food stamps, this shit not funny\nI'm here for money and I'm bout to put in work\nYellow man, nobody move, nobody get hurt\nIt's just to the paper\nFuck it, man I got a cake up\nNiggas spend all this money, you saved up\nThrow it all in his face like it's make-up\nYeah nigga, straight up\n\nGimme shmoney, gimme gimme shmoney\nGimme shmoney, gimme gimme shmoney\nYeah, it's what a girl like\nYeah, it's what a girl like\nI don't want ya man, I just want this shmoney\nI don't want ya man, I just want this shmoney\nThat's what a girl like\nThat's what a girl like\nYou might also like\nI don't want ya man, hoe, I just want the money\nWhy don't you understand, hoe, please don't be a dummy\nHis name not Benjamin, he can't do nothing for me\nIt's all about a check and plus that nigga ugly\nHe like my setup, how I dress up, so I gas his head up\nHe spend that cheddar, mozzarella, yeah he fuck that check up\nI tell him step up, put that bread up, don't you hesitate\nI have the goons at your door, like \"Hello, what's in the safe?\"\n\nGimme shmoney, gimme gimme shmoney\nGimme shmoney, gimme gimme shmoney\nYeah, it's what a girl like\nYeah, it's what a girl like\nI don't want ya man, I just want this shmoney\nI don't want ya man, I just want this shmoney\nThat's what a girl like\nThat's what a girl like"}
{"text":"9 ContributorsI Gotta Hurt You Lyrics\nYou know\nI could love you with all my heart\nYou're my baby and\nAnd I love you I just\nI just feel the need to hurt you\nMaybe I'm scorn\nMaybe I need a therapist\nMaybe I'm petty\nI just\n\nI want to hurt you\nI want to hurt you\nI want to hurt you\nI need to make you sure you remember me forever\nE-e-e-e-ever\nE-e-e-e-ever\nE-e-e-e-ever\n(I was raised well)\nE-e-e-e-ever\nE-e-e-e-ever\nE-e-e-e-ever\nI want to hurt you\nI want to hurt you\nI want to, I want to hurt you\nI want to hurt, hurt, hurt\nI want to hurt you\n(Forever)\nI want to hurt you\nI want to, I want to hurt you\n(Forever)\nI want to hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt\nI want to hurt you\nYou might also like\nI want to hurt you\nI got to make sure that you feel me\nI need to make sure you remember me forever\nI have to show you\n\nHi there\nMy name is, my name is\nCardi, Cardi, Cardi, Cardi\nI don't know\nI love it\nI love it\nLonelyness\nIt fulfills my sorrow\nYou may think\nYou may think I have no tomorrow\nIts easier to die\nThan to live\nBut I will show you\nThat I'm strong enough\nTo use you and abuse you\nAnd I'm gonna live\nAnd I'm gonna win (haha)\nI'm gonna win\nI'm gonna win\nI'm gonna win\nI'm gonna win\nI'm gonna win\nI-I-I-I-I'm go-onna win\nI want to hurt you\nI got to make sure that you feel me\nI need to make sure they remember me forever\nI have to show you"}
{"text":"10 ContributorsPop Off Lyrics\nShattering glass\nAnd motherfuckers be like, \"But what type of niggas will wife you?\"\nMy type of niggas will wife me! The type of niggas that like bitches that pop off and suck dick all day motherfuckin' long, bih\nThanks to all my followers that always defended me\nY'all like my god brothers and my god sisters\nI would dead jump in your fight, I would dead jump in your fight\nNow what's poppin?\n\nWho wanna pop off? Who wanna start war?\nThey talkin' shit? I'm takin' tops off\nJeans, off, weaves, off\nRings, off, everything, off\nWho wanna pop off? Who wanna start war?\nThey talkin' shit? I'm takin' tops off\nJeans, off, weaves, off\nRings, off, everything, off\n\nI'm startin' to lose my patience, weak bitches hatin'\nBitches throwing subs like I won't kick your face in\nBaby mama's mad 'cause I'm in first place, and\nWhen it comes to you bitch, there's no conversation\nI been to give it up grimy, I'm the Bronx bitch, I'm feisty\n\"Cardi why you feisty?\" Shut up bitch, fight me\nNY raised and so you know it's very likely\nThat when I hear some shit that I don't like, I get hype B\nWho would wanna wife me? Your nigga wanna wife me\nYou think 'cause I'm a stripper hoe, that nigga won't think twice B?\nPut this pussy on his face, ride that shit nicely\nSet his ass up, then you really ain't gon' like me\nSo what you tryna do? You and you and you\nI feel some type a way, a bitch finna get loose\nTell me what's the deal? I'm 'bout to start the hill\nThe wig is comin' off, shit 'bout to get real\nYou might also like\nWho wanna pop off? Who wanna start war?\nThey talkin' shit? I'm takin' tops off\nJeans, off, weaves, off\nRings, off, everything, off\nWho wanna pop off? Who wanna start war?\nThey talkin' shit? I'm takin' tops off\nJeans, off, weaves, off\nRings, off, everything, off\n\nGot beef with Cardi B? I'm poppin' off\nShit get hectic? I'ma drop it off\nOh you shinin'? Your chain and your watch is off\nYou was never with this shit, nigga, knock it off\nYouse a pussy, and your whole block is soft\nYou caught feelings, could she ain't even drop you off\nYou thought that bag was gettin' you pussy, not at all\nYou was gettin' lied, you ain't know she made that call\nTo the dog's dinner, and they starvin'\nI gotta feed all 'em\nI'maget that nigga, you gon' get that bitch\nWhat they thought switched 'cause we both got rich?\nNah, we on the same time\nYou got yours, I got mine\nYou got a problem, get in line\nIt's Cardi B, and 2 times\nWho wanna pop off? Who wanna start war?\nThey talkin' shit? I'm takin' tops off\nJeans, off, weaves, off\nRings, off, everything, off\nWho wanna pop off? Who wanna start war?\nThey talkin' shit? I'm takin' tops off\nJeans, off, weaves, off\nRings, off, everything, off\n\nShit, that bitch six three and she bodied\nSuperman calves, and her shoulder somethin' retarded\nI ain't backin' down, Cardi got the heart regardless\nYou gon' have to knock me out if you think I'ma forfeit\nGang gang, squad up, and have my niggas all on it\nPay a couple niggas and they had you out in a coffin\nAnd I put that on my life, I really don't do this often\nBut the way I'm feelin' now, like whatever, I'm on it\nHave you laid out on the stretcher with your socks off\nHad the pastor prayin', like, \"Sorry for your, loss\"\nThrow dirt on my name, you better pop off\nMy name ring bells like Mayweather, box off\nI'm Cardi B, east coast newest contender\n5'3\" lookin' good with the nails bananas\nFreddy Kruger on these bitches, I cut their lights off\nShould have read the memo, Cardi B pops offEmbed"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsHow I Do Lyrics\nGangsta!\nCardi!\nB!\n\nThis is how I do\nI make a fool out these bitches\nThey be thinking they tough\nThis is how I do\nI make these niggas spend their money\nThen I show them no love\nThis is how I do\nIf the bag not involved\nThen you know it's a dub\nThis is how I do\nThey ain't fuck with me before now I gotta stunt\n\nPull up like huh?\nThey looking like what?\nHeads turn left and right, they wonder who's her?\nCardi B, duh\nBitch don't front\nYou on my Gram all day, don't play dumb\nCame up from the slums\nThe dirty, dirty Bronx\nWhere niggas quick to clip your shit, no fair ones\nYou gotta keep a gun, but beef to me is fun\nI never back down, been this way since day one\nYou might also like\nThey shit on me before, thought I was just a stupid hoe\nThey tight now, they realize they was sleeping on gold\nTook me one year man, and now I'm doin' shows\nNow they wanna take pics with me, hold on let me pose\nBelieve me, I easily can do a bitch greasy\nI'll give it to you just how you like it girlll\nCardi B in full effect, couple bitches upset\nCouple niggas wanna hit it and they can't so they stressed\n\nThis is how I do\nI make a fool out these bitches\nThey be thinking they tough\nThis is how I do\nI make these niggas spend their money\nThen I show them no love\nThis is how I do\nIf the bag not involved\nThen you know it's a dub\nThis is how I do\nThey ain't fuck with me before now I gotta stunt\n\nCardi in tune, bitches make room\nTest me? The gat goes CLICK, CLACK, BOOM\nGangsta Bitch, oooh, Volume 2\nCop somethin' mean, when it start you hear that VROOM\nPull up to your side, 30 deep right?\nStuntin' on my ex, he thirsty for a reply\nSick, sick, sick\nCall my phone, it's CLICK\nHad me fucked up when you was fucking with that bitch\nMaking power moves\nGoin' 50 on 'em\nSame ones that played me\nHigh-siddity on 'em\nBack to back with it, goin' Drizzy on 'em\nNow they tight, they gotta watch me make a milli on 'em\n\nHa-Ha!\nYo, yo, Remember, remember nigga when you told me that I was gonna work in that strip club Divas on 177th in the Bronx for the rest of my life? Well guess what nigga? Now i'm the fucking diva\nShit\nFuck outta here\nGANGSTA!Embed"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsEverything Lyrics\nYou know, people underestimated me\nAnd making me feel like I'm never gonna amount to shit because I used to be a stripper\nIt feels like I'm getting whipped in the back, with words\nBut you know what?\nThey don't see the bigger picture\nI had to feed myself, I had to feed my family\nBut you know what?\nJust here me out\n\nLord forgive me for my sins\nForgive me for the crazy shit I wish I never did\nI'm simply just a young hood girl tryna win\nI just want it all, and I gon' pretend\nLike I ain't never had to suck a dick to pay my rent\nI'm tryna get my family out the hood and new cribs\nI wanna finish paying my mothers new whip\nI do it for a cause, so understand the kid\nI want my little girl to go to school in Fort Lee\nSchools in the hood, got him crazy, man he three\nAnd it's fucked that it ain't how it's supposed to be\nHe should be counting 123's and ABC's\nAnd momma used to beat my ass like every week\nThat's because she can't have nothing but love for me\nI wanna spoil her so much, oh lord please\nThat's my everything\nMy everything, my family\nYou might also like\nYou know what?\nEven when I was stripping, like bitches was worried 'bout the wrong things\nOh they want red bottoms, they want the biggest cars\nLike I'm worried 'bout my father stop cab driving\nBefore he turn sixty, and my mom stop being a cashier before she fifty like\nThat's why I'm working so hard out here\nThat's why I go so hard\nNot for me, but for them though\nYou feel me?\n\nNote to self, for my sister Hennessy\nTry and go to school, finish up and get degrees\nDon't be fucking trick niggas, just so you can eat\nThat's the shit I did and it really makes me weak\nI would close my eyes, dying for it to be over\nThe thought of a stranger inside, I just can't be sober\nDirty ass breath, breathing all over my shoulders\nAin't no bitch gon' tell you that, just respect the soldier\nAnd I wanna tell my dad, you don't gotta cab\nDrive for two whole weeks just to make a stack\nYou don't gotta drive no more, I'm gon' change all that\nI put that on my everything, I'm gon' pray for that\n\nYou know when I was a little girl I used to tell my mom\n\"Hey mom, when I grow up, I'm gonna buy you a house, I'm gonna buy you a car\"\nUntil I turned eighteen, it's like damn, I can't even get me my own apartment\nSo, it's just like, now that I'm in this position I'm gonna\nI'm gonna take full advantage of it\nLike oh my gosh, I can't wait till I get to surprise my mom\nLike, \"Hey, I didn't went to college, but look, look at me mom, look at me now, look, look mom, look, look at your house, This is your house! Not mines, but yours, and I bough it for you!\"Embed"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsRollin Lyrics\nJ. White Did It\n\nRollin', rollin', all my bitches rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin', rollin', rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin' and I love that shit\nThem commas comin'\nRollin', rollin', all my bitches rollin'\nRollin', rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin' and I love that shit\nThem commas comin' quick\n\nLook, show you bitches how to do this shit\nStand back while I demonstrate\nPussy worth like a million dollars\nI think your nigga got expensive taste\nI'm not a bum bitch, I'm a boss bitch\nYou sideline, I'm center stage\nI don't even get involved with it\nIf it don't make me cum or it don't get me paid\nIf it's not the money then it's \"poof, be gone\"\nSteal your man with my Doobie on\nWhole team full of bad bitches\nAnd that Louis Vuitton our uniform\n24 karat my grills, I do what I want\nBitch, fuck how you feel\nFuck a whole check up all on my nails\nI pull up in foreign and cut in my wheel, byes, bitch\nYou might also like\nRollin', rollin', all my bitches rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin', rollin', rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin' and I love that shit\nThem commas comin' quick\nRollin', rollin', all my bitches rollin'\nRollin', rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin' and I love that shit\nThem commas comin' quick\n\nLook, I'm not a rider chick, I'm a driver chick\nI could come get you instead\nI hope all of your homies got money, nigga\n'Cause all of my bitches got bread\nLook, got a home girl out the west coast\nSwear to God, I love that bitch\nAsk about us, any club\nThey gon' tell you we run that shit\nI'm like the strip club, Mariah Carey\nDominican, Halle Berry\nHair be laid, bills be paid\nStill put bread on my nigga commissary\nIf I want somethin', it's, \"Whatever, cop it\"\nBalenciaga, tell 'em check the closet\nHeard you fuckin' for that extra change\nThat's why that pussy got that extra mileage, I be rollin'\nRollin', rollin', all my bitches rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin', rollin', rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin' and I love that shit\nThem commas comin' quick\nRollin', rollin', all my bitches rollin'\nRollin', rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin' and I love that shit\nThem commas comin' quick\nRollin', rollin', all my bitches rollin'\nRollin', rollin'\nAll my bitches rollin' and I love that shit"}
{"text":"27 ContributorsWet* Lyrics\nCardi\n\nI got that sauce and that water\nSet them hoes in a corner\nI wake up and get paid\nEveryday in that order\nHad some hoes that was hatin\u2019\nNow they act like supporters\nIn my face tryna make up\nLike they Mike or Sephora\nBut I leave a bitch wet if I let up, she gon need a first aid at the Red Cross\nSkrt, skrt dip off in a red Porsche\nEverything on my list getting checked off\nWet neck, wet wrist I\u2019m as wet as jet skis\nThey was sleepin\u2019 on a bitch now I\u2019m a fucking wet treeYou might also like"}
{"text":"7 ContributorsSick 16 (Freestyle) Lyrics\nThey out here looking for revenge\nAll day, all night\nSee me not once but twice\nAll looks and no fights\nSee me doing me got em wondering how a bitch came a took flight\nThey talk about me all night\nGod damn they must be tight\nThey looking for revenge\n\nYeah, it's not my fault tho\nI swear I just do me and bitches be sick, bitches got sore throats\nLast year I was on the pole\nNow you can catch ya girl on the road\nDamn near 15k a show\nI think some bitches need to know, yeah\nCause I don't brag much\nBut shit really be a blow\nWhen I got bitches that's coming for me like we on the same level, that's a no\nThese bitches is nowhere near my level\nCan't even fit em in my schedule\nYeah your girl is overbooked\nYou really think my attention's gonna catch you\nMixtape been out for 3 weeks\nAnd already charting on Billboards\nFor really think that shit was free\nAll I gotta say is \"thank you Lord\"\nThis is for the ones that was doubting me\nAnd said I was never gon be shit\nAll of a sudden they proud of me\nAnd wanna be hopping on my dick\nThey six, six, six\nYeah, sick, sick, sick, cause they know wassup\nI'm usually always humble but right now I really don't give a fuck\nSome niggas be hating hard\nWhy is it because you didn't buck?\nCause you didn't get the time a day?\nAnd I left ya lame ass in the dust\nOh man, oh man\nIf you hittas pulling straight fam on\nThey saying I'm the next superstar\nCo-signed by Lee Daniels\nIm just tryna play this game clever\nI'm just tryna do that shit right\nSo I hit em wit that \"Foreva\"\nRan down on that bitch twice\nYou might also like\nThey out here looking for revenge\nAll day, all night\nSee me not once but twice\nAll looks and no fights\nSee me doing me got em wondering how a bitch came a took flight\nThey talk about me all night\nGod damn they must be tight\nThey looking for revenge\n\nKnow I don't really brag much, but bitches better stop fucking playing with me like I can't stunt on a bitch\nLike, like y'all think, y'all think I'm playing with my pussy all day long or something\nYou know what, bring that back\nMm\n\nI know some bitches in the Bronx that wanna be me a little\nBut stop on learning how to suck and fuck and live free a little\nAnd bitch know your worth, don't show it all, let em see a little\nAnd if he ain't bout the money, hit the brakes, but do speed a little\nI remember having no money, sleeping at my ex house\nMy mom couldn't take me at the time, so she had to kick me out\nBut I'm not mad at her one bit, cause I don't think I would've took this route\nI had to go get it on my own\nIm just glad I figured it out\nLike I been through a lot\nAnd it wasn't easy to escape\nThat's why it really bothers me when motherfuckers got something to say\nAnd just to set the record straight\n to stop a J\nIf they ain't SwiftOnDemand, then they ain't help me in no way\nI swear they be wanting so much credit\nBut don't wanna give none when it's due\nSlept on ya girl for so long\nNow wanna come hopping out the blue\nNah bruh shit don't work like that\nWell at least it don't in my book\nCause if you fuck with me hard, and I fuck with you, then there's no other way to look\nImma hit em again and again\nGet so much music, it go to ya friend\nHitting a tour and the shade gon end\nHmm that's why they looking for revengeEmbed"}
{"text":"Yo, I never fucked Wayne, I never fucked Drake\nOn my life, man, fuck's sake\nIf I did, I'd m\u00e9nage with 'em\nAnd let 'em eat my ass like a cupcake\nMy man full, he just ate\nI don't duck nobody but tape\nYeah, that was a setup\nFor a punchline on duct tape\nWo-wo-wo-worried 'bout if my butt fake\nWo-worried 'bout y'all niggas, us straight\nTh-These girls are my sons\nJo-Jon & Kate Plus Eight\nWhen I walk in, zip up straight\nI don't give a fuck if I was late\nDinner with my man on a G5\nIs my idea of a update\nHut-hut one, hut-hut two\nBig titties, big butt too\nFu-Fuck with them real niggas\nWho don't tell niggas what they up to\nHad to show bitches where the top is\nRi-Ring finger where the rock is\nThe-These hoes couldn't test me\nEven if their name was Pop Quiz\nBad bitches who I fuck with\nMa-Ma-Mad bitches we don't fuck with\nI don't fuck with them chickens\nUnless they last name is Cutlet\nLet it soak in\nLike seasoning\nAnd tell them bitches blow me\nLance Stephenson\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nRaise every bottle and cup in the sky\nSparks in the air like the Fourth of July\nNothin' but bad bitches in here tonight\nOh, if you lame and you know it, be quiet\nNothin' but real niggas only, bad bitches only\nRich niggas only, independent bitches only\nBoss niggas only, thick bitches only\nI got my real niggas here by my side (Yeah), only\n\nI never fucked Nicki 'cause she got a man\nBut when that's over, then I'm first in line\nAnd the other day in her Maybach\nI thought, \"Goddamn, this is the perfect time\"\nWe had just come from that video\nYou know, L.A. traffic, how the city slow\nShe was sittin' down on that big butt\nBut I was still starin' at the titties though\nYeah, low-key or maybe high-key\nI been peeped that you like me, you know?\nWho the fuck you really wanna be with besides me?\nI mean, it doesn't take much for us to do this shit quietly\nI mean, she say I'm obsessed with thick women and I agree\nYeah, that's right, I like my girls BBW\nYeah, type that wanna suck you dry and then eat some lunch with you\nYeah, so thick that everybody else in the room is so uncomfortable\nAss on Houston, Texas, but the face look just like Clair Huxtable\nOh! Yeah, you the man in the city when the mayor fuck with you\nThe NBA players fuck with you\nThe bad-ass bitches doin' makeup and hair fuck with you, oh\nThat's 'cause I believe in somethin', I stand for it\nAnd Nicki, if you ever tryna fuck\nJust give me the heads-up, so I can plan for it\nRaise every bottle and cup in the sky (Pinkprint, ayy)\nSparks in the air like the Fourth of July\nNothin' but bad bitches in here tonight\nOh, if you lame and you know it, be quiet\nNothin' but real niggas only, bad bitches only\nRich niggas only, independent bitches only\nBoss niggas only, thick bitches only\nI got my real niggas here by my side, only\n\nI never fucked Nick' and that's fucked up\nIf I did fuck, she'd be fucked up\nWhoever is hittin' ain't hittin' it right\n'Cause she act like she need dick in her life\nThat's another story, I'm no story-teller\nI piss greatness, like goldish yellow\nAll my goons so overzealous\nI'm from Hollygrove, the holy Mecca\nCalendar say I got money for days\nI squirm and I shake, but I'm stuck in my ways\nMy girlfriend will beat a bitch up if she wave\nThey bet' not fuck with her surfboard, surfboard\nMy eyes are so bright, I take cover for shade\nDon't have my money? Take mothers instead\nYou got the hiccups, you swallowed the truth\nThen I make you burp, boy, treat beef like sirloin\nI'm talkin' 'bout runnin' in houses with army guns\nSo think about your son and daughter rooms\nGot two hoes with me, masked up, they got smaller guns\nAin't thinkin' 'bout your son and daughter rooms\nThis shit is crazy, my nigga\nI mean brazy, my nigga\nThat money talk, I just rephrase it, my nigga\nBlood gang, take the \"B\" off behavior, my nigga\nFor reals, if you mouth off, I blow your face off\nI mean \"pop-pop-pop,\" then I take off\nNigga, now you see me, nigga, now you don't\nLike Jamie Foxx actin' like Ray Charles\nSixteen in a clip, one in the chamber\n17 Ward bully with seventeen bullets\nMy story is how I went from \"poor me\"\nTo \"please pour me a drink and celebrate with me\"\nRaise every bottle and cup in the sky\nSparks in the air like the Fourth of July\nNothin' but bad bitches in here tonight\nOh, if you lame and you know it, be quiet\nYoung Mula, baby!\nNothin' but real niggas only, bad bitches only\nRich niggas only, independent bitches only\nBoss niggas only, thick bitches only\nI got my real niggas here by my side, only1.9KEmbed"}
{"text":"Yo, B, they ready\nLet's go\n\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my, feelin' my\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my\n\nI'm with some hood girls lookin' back at it\nAnd a good girl in my tax bracket (Ugh)\nGot a black card that'll let Saks have it\nThese Chanel bags is a bad habit\nI-I do balls, Dal Mavericks\nMy Maybach, black matted (Ugh)\nBitch, never left but I'm back at it\nAnd I'm feelin' myself, jack rabbit\nFeelin' myself, back off\n'Cause I'm feelin' myself, jack off (Ugh)\nHe be thinking about me when he whacks off\nWax on? Wax off\nNa-na-national anthem, hats off\nThen I curve that nigga, like a bad toss (Ugh)\nLemme get a number two, with some Mac sauce\n\"On The Run Tour,\" with my mask off\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my (Ugh)\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my, feelin' my\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my (Ugh)\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my\n\nChanged the game with that digital drop\nKnow where you was when that digital popped\nI stopped the world\nMale or female, it make no difference\nI stop the world\nWorld, stop\nCarry on\n\nKitty on fleek (Ooh), pretty on fleek (Ugh)\nPre-pre-pretty gang always keep them niggas on geek (Ooh)\nRidin'-Ridin' through Texas (Texas), feed him for his breakfast (Ugh, breakfast)\nEverytime I whip it, I be talkin' so reckless\nHe said \"Damn, Nicki, it's tight,\" I-I say \"Yeah, nigga, you right\" (Ugh)\nHe said \"Damn, bae, you so little, but you be really takin' that pipe\"\nI said \"Yes, daddy, I do (Do), gimme brain like NYU\" (U, ugh)\nI said \"Teach me, nigga, teach me, all this learnin' here is by you\" (Uh)\n\nI'm whippin' that work, he diggin' that work\nI got it, 36 of that real\nPanky full of that bounce, baby\nCome get you some of that bounce, baby\nI'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my (Ugh)\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my, feelin' my\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm feelin' my (Ugh)\nFeelin' myself, I'm feelin' myself, I'm killin' my\n\nCookin' up that base (Base), lookin' like a kilo (Kilo)\nHe just wanna taste (Taste), biggin' up my ego\n(Ego, ego, ego, ego, ego, ego, ego, ego)\n(Ridin'-Ridin' through Texas, ridin'-ridin' through Texas, ridin'-ridin' through Texas)\nSmoke it all off, talkin' bout that high-grade (High-grade)\nBaby, hold up, I can kill your migraine\n(Migraine, migraine, migraine, migraine, migraine, migraine, migraine, migraine)\n(Ridin'-Ridin' through Texas, ridin'-ridin' through Texas, ridin'-ridin' through Texas)\n\nBitches ain't got punchlines or flow (He in love)\nI have both and an empire also (In love)\nKeep gettin' gifts from Santa Claus at the North Pole (In love)\nToday I'm icy, but I'm prayin' for some more snow\nLet that ho, ho, let-let-let that ho know (He in love)\nHe in love with that coco\nWhy-Why-Why-Why these bitches don't never be learnin'?\nYou bitches will never get what I be earnin' (Ugh)\nI'm still gettin' plaques, from my records that's urban\nAin't gotta rely on top 40\nI am a rap legend, just go ask the Kings of Rap\nWho is the Queen and things of that nature?\nLook at my finger, that is a glacier, hits like a laser (Rrr!)\nDrippin' on that work, trip-trippin' off that perc\nFlip-flip-flippin' up my skirt and I be whippin' all that work\nTakin' trips with all them ki's (Ki's), car keys got B's (Ugh)\nStingin' with the Queen B and we be whippin' all of that D\nCause we dope girls we flawless, we the poster girls for all this (Ugh)\nWe run around with them ballers, only real niggas in my call list\nI'm-I'm-I'm-I'm the big kahuna, go let them whores know (Ugh)\nJust on this song alone, bitch is on her fourth flow\nHahahahahahaha, rrrrr\nYou like it, don't'chyea? Snitches\nHahahahaha\nAh, Young Money1.3KEmbed"}
{"text":"Uh, mmm, kyuh\nR.I.P. to B.I.G.\u00a0\nClassic shit\n\nI'm lookin' for a nigga to give some babies\nA handful of Weezy, sprinkle of Dave East\nMan, I ain't got no type like Jxmmi and Swae Lees\nBut if he can't fuck three times a night, peace!\nI tried to fuck 50 for a powerful hour\nBut all that nigga wanna do is talk Power for hours\nB-beat the pussy up, make sure it's a K-O\nStep your banks up like you're movin' that yayo\nSomebody go and make sure Karrueche okay, though\nI heard she think I'm tryna give the coochie to Quavo\nThey always wanna beat it up, goon up the pussy\nMan, maybe I should let him autotune up the pussy\nAll these Bow Wow Challenge niggas lyin' and shit\nMan, these Fetty Wap niggas stay eyein' my shit\nDrake worth a hundred mill, he always buyin' me shit\nBut I don't know if the pussy wet or if he cryin' and shit\nMeek still be in my DMs, I be havin' to duck him\n\"I used to pray for times like this\" face-ass when I fuck him\nMan, Uzi is my baby, he ain't takin' a L\nBut he took it literally when I said \"Go to hell\"\nUsed to fuck with Young Thug, I ain't addressin' this shit\nC-caught him in my dressing room, stealin' dresses and shit\nI used to give this nigga with a lisp tests and shit\nHow you want the pu-thy? Can't say your S's and shit, uh\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nDreams of fuckin' one of these little rappers\nI'm just playin', but I'm sayin' (Barbie dreams)\nDreams of fuckin' one of these little rappers\nI'm just playin', but I'm sayin' (B-B-B-Barbie dreams)\nDreams of fuckin' one of these little rappers\nI'm just playin', but I'm sayin' (B-B-B-Barbie, B-B-B-Barbie dreams)\nDreams of fuckin' one of these little rappers (Barbie dreams)\nI'm just playin', but I'm sayin'\n\nI remember when I used to have a crush on Special Ed\nShoutout Desiigner 'cause he made it out of special ed\nYou wanna fuck me, you gotta give some special head\n'Cause this pussy have these niggas on some special meds\nLike Mike Tyson, he was bitin' my shit\nTalkin' 'bout, \"Yo, why you got these niggas fightin' and shit?\"\nOn the, on the real, I should make these niggas scrap for the pussy\nYoung M.A and Lady Luck, get the strap for this pussy, uh\nAnd I woulda had Odell Beckham bangin' the cake\n'Til I saw him hoppin' out of cars dancin' to Drake\nI been a five-star bitch, man, word to Gotti\nI'ma do that nigga Future dirty, word to Scottie\nHad to cancel DJ Khaled, boy, we ain't speakin'\nAin't no fat nigga tellin' me what he ain't eatin'\nYG and The Game with the hammer yellin', \"Gang! Gang!\"\nThis ain\u2019t what I meant when I said a gang bang\nTekashi want a m\u00e9nage, I said \"tre-way\"\nCurved him and went the Kim and Kanye way\nEm, cop the Barbie Dreamhouse, then you can play the part\nI-I ain't tryna bust it open in a trailer park\nDreams of fuckin' one of these little rappers\nI'm just playin', but I'm sayin' (Barbie dreams)\nDreams of fuckin' one of these little rappers\nI'm just playin', but I'm sayin' (B-B-B-Barbie dreams)\nDreams of fuckin' one of these little rappers\nI'm just playin', but I'm sayin' (B-B-B-Barbie, B-B-B-Barbie dreams)\nDreams of fuckin' one of these little rappers (Barbie dreams)\nI'm just playin', but I'm sayin' (B-B-B-Barbie dreams)\n(Barbie Dreams)\nI'm just playin', but I'm sayin' (B-B-B-Barbie, B-B-B-Barbie dreams)\n\nYou know I'm all 'bout them dollars\nI be supportin' them scholars\nI let him give me some brain, but he wanted me to ride it\nSo I said, \"Fuck it, I'm in\"\nHe wanna cut like a trim\nAnd if he act like he know, I let him fuck it again\nI got them bars, I'm indicted\nI'm poppin', I'm uninvited\nI said, \"Just lick on the clitoris, nigga, don't fuckin' bite it\"\nI ride his **** in a circle\nI turn Stefan into Urkel\nI go arounds and arounds and I'ma go down in slow motion\nThe-then I pick it up, look at it\nI said, \"Daddy, come get at it,\" uh\nYellow brick road, he said that I am a wiz at it\nYeah, they want it, want it\nYou know I flaunt it, flaunt it\nI'm a trendsetter, everything I do, they do\nYeah, I put 'em up on it, on it\n\u00a1Dimelo, papi, papi!\nYo quiero sloppy, sloppy\nI'll give it to you if you beat it up like Pacqui, Pacqui\nI-I-I-I'ma kill 'em with the shoe\nNo ceiling is in the roof\nAnd I'm big, give me the loot\n12 cylinders in the coupe\nI get dome with the chrome, no tellin' when I'ma shoot\nI just bang, bang, bang, real killas is in my group\nGorillas is in my unit, vacationin' where it's humid\nAnd I shine, shine, shine, got diamonds all in my cubans\nI'm in LA Times more than when niggas lootin'\nAnd my flow spit crack, I think that nigga usin'\nHe done bodied everybody, in closing, these bitches losin'\nUsin', usin' up, a bitch movin'\nNo, I ain't stuttered and no, I ain't Ruben\nDamn, a bitch snoozin'\nShoutout to my Jews, l'chaim, Rick Rubin\nBig fat titties, yes, they be protrudin'\nI be like, fuck 'em, fuck 'em, bring the lube in\nI be like, fuck 'em, fuck 'em, bring the lube in"}
{"text":"You know, yeah\nTouchin', yeah\nNight of\nYou know, yeah\nTouchin', yeah\nNight of\nUh, thinkin' out loud\nI must have a quarter million on me right now\nHard to make a song 'bout somethin' other than the money\nTwo things I'm about it are talkin' blunt and stayin' blunted\nPretty women, are you here? Are you here right now, huh?\nWe should all disappear right now\nLook, you're gettin' all your friends and you're gettin' in the car\nAnd you're comin' to the house, are we clear right now, huh?\nYou see the fleet of all the new things\nCop cars with the loose change\nAll white like I move things\nNiggas see me rollin' and they mood change\nLike a motherfucker\nNew flow, I got a dozen of 'em\nI don't trust you, you a undercover\nI could probably make some stepsisters fuck each other\nWoo, talkin' filets with the truffle butter\nFresh sheets and towels, man, she gotta love it\nYeah, they all get what they desire from it\nWhat? Tell them niggas we ain't hidin' from it\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nYou know, yeah\nTouchin', yeah\nNight of\nYou know, yeah\nTouchin', yeah\nNight of\n\nYo, thinkin' out loud\nI must have about a milli on me right now\nAnd I ain't talkin' about that Lil Wayne record\nI'm still the highest sellin' female rapper for the record\nMan, this the sixty-five millionth single sold\nI ain't gotta compete with a single soul\nI'm good with the ballpoint game, finger roll\nAsk me how to do it, I don't tell a single soul\nPretty women, what's up? Is you here right now?\nYou a stand-up or is you in your chair right now? Uh\nDo you hear me? I can't let a wack nigga get near me\nI might kiss the baddest bitch if you dare me\nI ain't never need a man to take care of me\nYo, I'm in that big boy, bitches can't rent this\nI floss every day, but I ain't a dentist\nYour whole style and approach I invented\nAnd I ain't takin' that back 'cause I meant it (Yeah)\nYou know, yeah\nTouchin', yeah\nNight of\nYou know, yeah\nTouchin', yeah\nNight of\n\nUh, thinkin' out loud\nI could be broke and keep a million dollar smile\nLOL to the bank, check in my account\nBank teller flirtin' after checkin' my account\nPretty ladies, are you here? Truffle butter on your pussy\nCuddle buddies on the low\nYou ain't gotta tell your friend that I eat it in the mornin'\n'Cause she gon' say \"I know\"\nCan I hit it in the bathroom? Put your hands on the toilet\nI'll put one leg on the tub, girl\nThis my new dance move, I just don't know what to call it\nBut, bitch, you dancin' with the stars\nI ain't nothin' like your last dude\nWhat's his name? Not important\nI brought some cocaine if you snortin'\nShe became a vacuum, put it on my dick like carpet\nSuck the white off, white chocolate\nI'm so heartless, thoughtless, lawless, and flawless\nSmallest, regardless, largest in charge\nAnd born in New Orleans, get killed for Jordans\nSkateboard, I'm gnarly, Drake, Tunechi, and Barbie, you know\nYou know, yeah\nTouchin', yeah\nNight of\nYou know, yeah\nTouchin', yeah\nNight of"}
{"text":"My anaconda don't\nMy anaconda don't\nMy anaconda don't want none\nUnless you got buns, hun\n\nBoy toy named Troy\nUsed to live in Detroit\nBi-bi-big dope dealer money\nHe was gettin' some coins\nWa-wa-was in shootouts with the law\nBut he live in a palace\nBo-bought me Alexander McQueen\nHe was keepin' me stylish\nNow that's real, real, real\nGun in my purse\nBitch, I came dressed to kill\nWho-who-who-who wanna go first?\nI had 'em pushin' daffodils\nI'm high as hell\nI only took a half a pill\nI'm on some dumb shit\n\nBy-by-by-by-by-by the way, what he say? (Hey, hey)\nHe can tell I ain't missing no meals (Hey)\nCome through and fuck him in my automobile (Hey)\nLet him eat it with his grills, he keep tellin' me to chill\nHe keep tellin' me it's real, that he love my sex appeal (Hey)\nHe say he don't like 'em boney, he want something he can grab (Hey)\nSo I pulled up in the Jag, and I hit him with the jab like (Hey)\nDun-d-d-dun-dun-d-d-dun-dun (Hey, hey)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nMy anaconda don't\nMy anaconda don't\nMy anaconda don't want none\nUnless you got buns, hun\n\nOh my gosh\nLook at her butt\nOh my gosh\nLook at her butt\nOh-oh-oh-oh my gosh\nLook at her butt\nLook at her butt, look at, look at, look at\nLook at her butt\n\nThi-thi-thi-thi-this dude named Michael\nUsed to ride motorcycles\nDi-di-dick bigger than a tower\nI ain't talkin' 'bout Eiffel's\nRe-re-re-real country-ass\nNigga, let me play with his rifle\nPussy put his ass to sleep\nNow he callin' me NyQuil\nNow that bang, bang, bang\nI let him hit it 'cause he slang cocaine\nHe toss my salad\nLike his name Romaine\nAnd when we done\nI make him buy me Balmain\nI'm on some dumb shit\nBy-by-by-by-by-by the way, what he say? (Hey, hey)\nHe can tell I ain't missing no meals (Hey)\nCome through and fuck him in my automobile (Hey)\nLet him eat it with his grills, he keep tellin' me to chill\nHe keep tellin' me it's real, that he love my sex appeal (Hey)\nHe say he don't like 'em boney, he want something he can grab (Hey)\nSo I pulled up in the Jag, Mayweather with the jab like (Hey)\nDun-d-d-dun-dun-d-d-dun-dun (Hey, hey)\n\nMy anaconda don't\nMy anaconda don't\nMy anaconda don't want none\nUnless you got buns, hun\n\nOh my gosh\nLook at her butt\nOh my gosh\nLook at her butt\nOh-oh-oh-oh my gosh\nLook at her butt\nLook at her butt, look at, look at, look at\nLook at her butt\nLittle in the middle but she got much back\nLittle in the middle but she got much back\nLittle in the middle but she got much back\nOh my God\nLook at her butt\n\nMy anaconda don't\nMy anaconda don't\nMy anaconda don't want none\nUnless you got buns, hun\nD-D-D-Don't\nMy anaconda don't...\nD-D-Don't want none\nUnless you got buns, hun\n\nOh my gosh, look at her butt\n(Little in the middle but she got much back)\nOh my gosh, look at her butt\n(Little in the middle but she got much back)\nOh-oh-oh-oh my gosh, look at her butt\n(Little in the middle but she got much back)\n(Oh my God)  Look at her butt, look at, look at, look at, look at her butt\n\nYeah, he love this fat ass, hahahahahahahaha!\nYeah, this one is for my bitches with a fat ass in the fucking club\nI said, where my fat ass big bitches in the club?\nFuck those skinny bitches, fuck those skinny bitches in the club\nI wanna see all the big fat-ass bitches in the muthafuckin' club\nFuck you if you skinny, bitches, what? Kyuh\nHahahaha, ahh, rrrrrrr!\nKyuh, I got a big fat ass!\nKyuh, come on!\nHey! Hey! Hey!"}
{"text":"Ayo, look like I'm goin' for a swim\nDunked on 'em, now I'm swingin' off the rim\nBitch ain't comin' off the bench\nWhile I'm comin' off the court fully drenched\nHere go some haterade, get ya thirst quenched\nStyled on 'em in this Burberry trench\nThese birds copy every word, every inch\nBut gang gang got the hammer and the wrench (Brrr)\nI pull up in that quarter milli off the lot\nOh, now she tryna be friends like I forgot\nShow off my diamonds like I'm signed by the Roc (By the rock)\nAin't pushin' out his babies 'til he buy the rock\n\nAyo, I been on, bitch, you been corn\nBentley tints on, Fendi prints on\nI mean I been Storm, X-Men been formed\nHe keep on dialin' Nicki like the Prince song\nI-I-I been on, bitch, you been corn\nBentley tints on, Fendi prints on\nAyo, I been north, Lara been Croft\nPlates say Chun-Li, drop the Benz off\n\nOh, I get it, huh, they paintin' me out to be the bad guy\nWell it's the last time you gonna see a bad guy do the rap game like me\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI went and copped the chopsticks, put it in my bun just to pop shit\nI'm always in the top shit, box seats, bitch, fuck the gossip\nHow many of them coulda did it with finesse?\nNow everybody like, \"She really is the best\"\nYou play checkers, couldn't beat me playin' chess\nNow I'm about to turn around and beat my chest\nBitch, it's King Kong, yes, it's King Kong\nBitch, it's King Kong, this is King Kong\nChinese ink on, Siamese links on\nCall me 2 Chainz, name go ding dong\nBitch, it's King Kong, yes, I'm King Kong\nThis is King Kong? Yes, Miss King Kong\nIn my kingdom wit' my Timbs on\nHow many championships? What? Six rings on\n\nThey need rappers like me\nThey need rappers like me\nSo they can get on their fucking keyboards\nAnd make me the bad guy, Chun-Li\n\nAyo, I been on, bitch, you been corn\nBentley tints on, Fendi prints on\nI mean I been Storm, X-Men been formed\nHe keep on dialin' Nicki like the Prince song\nI-I-I been on, bitch, you been corn\nBentley tints on, Fendi prints on\nAyo, I been north, Lara been Croft\nPlates say Chun-Li, drop the Benz off\nI come alive, I, I'm always sky high\nDesigner thigh highs, it's my lifestyle\nI come alive, I, I'm always sky high\nDesigner thigh highs, it's my lifestyle\nI need a Mai Tai, so fuckin' sci-fi\nGive me the password to the fuckin' wifi"}
{"text":"Yo\nMan\nMan\nUh\n\nBitches ain't shit and they ain't sayin' nothing\nA hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothing\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nBitches ain't shit and they ain't sayin' nothing\nA hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothing\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\n\nUh, man, I been did that, man, I been popped off\nAnd if she ain't tryin' to give it up, she get dropped off\nLet me bust that U-ie, bitch, bust that open\nMight spend a couple thou' just to bust that open\nRip it off, no joking, like your name Hulk Hogan\nNiggas move weight in the South, but live in Hoboken\nBitch, I spit that crack, like I'm in that trap\nSo if you need a hit, then I'm with that bat (Bow!)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nBitches ain't shit and they ain't sayin' nothing\nA hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothing\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nBitches ain't shit and they ain't sayin' nothing\nA hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothing (Tru!)\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap (Yeah)\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap (2 Chainz!)\n\nOkay, now, Nicki, Nicki, Nicki, put it in your kidney\nGot a new LS 450, ain't no keys in this doohickey\nIf I weren't rapping, I'd be trapping\nIf I weren't trapping, I'd be pimping\nIf I weren't pimping, I'd be getting it, period\nI don't smoke no Bobby, but my denim be from Ricky (Ricky)\nGot your girl on Molly, and we smokin' loud and drinkin' (Drinkin')\nGot my top back so you can see what I been thinkin' (Thinkin')\nI\u2014If you know me then you know I've been thinking Franklin (Franklin)\nMoney (Money), thousands (Thousands)\nTrue Religion trousers (Tell 'em!)\nGot a private home, started from them public houses (Damn)\nHair weave killer (Killer), causing her arousal (Tru)\nAudi A8, told them \"outtie 5000,\" uh!\nBitches ain't shit and they ain't sayin' nothing\nA hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothing\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nBitches ain't shit and they ain't sayin' nothing\nA hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothing\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\n\nDamn, damn, what they say about me?\nI don't know man, fuck is on your biscuit\nIf I get hit, swinging on a big bitch\nI don't know man, I'm shittin' on your whole life\nDamn, damn, what they say about me?\nI don't know man, fuck is on your biscuit\nIf I get hit, swinging on a big bitch\nI don't know man, I'm shittin' on your whole life\n\nBitches ain't shit and they ain't sayin' nothing\nA hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothing\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nMan, I'm out in Texas, man, I'm out in A-town\nThen I'm up in Chi-town or Miami shuttin' it down\nIt's that New Orleans, it's LA or The Bay\nIt's New York, Philly, and the whole DMV\nI'm a Detroit player, man, it's North-South Cack\nOhio, Pittsburgh, got St. Louis on deck\nIt's Delaware, Connecticut, it's New Jersey got hella bricks\nIt's Queens, Brooklyn, and yeah, they wildin'\nBronx, Harlem, and Staten Island\n\nBitches ain't shit and they ain't sayin' nothing\nA hundred motherfuckers can't tell me nothing\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\nI beez in the trap, bee-beez in the trap\n\nDamn, damn, what they say about me?\nI don't know man, fuck is on your biscuit\nIf I get hit, swinging on a big bitch\nI don't know man, I'm shittin' on your whole life\nDamn, damn, what they say about me?\nI don't know man, fuck is on your biscuit\nIf I get hit, swinging on a big bitch\nI don't know man, I'm shittin' on your whole life"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, yeah, hey\n\nThis one is for the boys with the boomin' system\nTop down, AC with the cooler system\nWhen he come up in the club, he be blazin' up\nGot stacks on deck like he savin' up\nAnd he ill, he real, he might gotta deal\nHe pop bottles and he got the right kind of build\nHe cold, he dope, he might sell coke\nHe always in the air, but he never fly coach\nHe a mothafuckin trip, trip, sailor of the ship, ship\nWhen he make it drip, drip, kiss him on the lip, lip\nThat's the kinda dude I was lookin' for\nAnd yes, you'll get slapped if you're lookin', ho\n\nI said, excuse me, you're a hell of a guy\nI mean, my, my, my, my, you're like pelican fly\nI mean, you're so shy and I'm loving your tie\nYou're like slicker than the guy with the thing on his eye, oh\nYes, I did, yes, I did\nSomebody please tell em who the F I is\nI am Nicki Minaj, I mack them dudes up\nBack coupes up and chuck the deuce up\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nBoy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away\nBeatin' like a drum and it's comin' your way\nCan't you hear that\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass?\nHe got that super bass\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nYeah, that's that super bass\nBoom, boom, boom, badoom (Bass, bass)\nBoom, boom, boom (Bass, yeah)\nBoom, boom, boom, badoom (Bass, bass)\nBoom, boom, boom (Bass)\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nHe got that super bass\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nYeah, that's that super bass (Yo, yo)\n\nThis one is for the boys in the polos\nEntrepreneur niggas and the moguls\nHe could ball with the crew, he could solo\nBut I think I like him better when he dolo\nAnd I think I like him better with the fitted cap on\nHe ain't even gotta try to put the mack on\nHe just gotta give me that look, when he give me that look\nThen the panties comin' off, off, uh\nExcuse me, you're a hell of a guy\nYou know, I really got a thing for American guys\nI mean, sigh, sickenin' eyes\nI can tell that you're in touch with your feminine side, uh\nYes, I did, yes, I did\nSomebody please tell 'em who the F I is\nI am Nicki Minaj, I mack them dudes up\nBack coupes up and chuck the deuce up\n\nBoy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away\nBeatin' like a drum and it's comin' your way\nCan't you hear that\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass?\nHe got that super bass\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nYeah, that's that super bass\nBoom, boom, boom, badoom (Bass, bass)\nBoom, boom, boom (Bass, yeah)\nBoom, boom, boom, badoom (Bass, bass)\nBoom, boom, boom (Bass)\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nHe got that super bass\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nYeah, that's that super bass (Yo, yo)\nSee, I need you in my life for me to stay\nKnow, know, know, know, know, I know you'll stay\nNo, no, no, no, no, don't go away, hey\nBoy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away\nDon't you hear that heartbeat comin' your way?\nOh, it be like\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nCan't you hear that\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass?\n\nBoy, you got my heartbeat runnin' away\nBeatin' like a drum and it's comin' your way\nCan't you hear that\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass?\nHe got that super bass\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nYeah, that's that super bass\nBoom, boom, boom, badoom (Bass, bass)\nBoom, boom, boom (Bass, yeah)\nBoom, boom, boom, badoom (Bass, bass)\nBoom, boom, boom (Bass)\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nHe got that super bass\nBoom, badoom, boom, boom, badoom, boom, bass\nYeah, that's that super bass (Yo, yo)"}
{"text":"All I, all I know is there should be no reason (Look at y'all niggas)\nAll I know is there should be no reason (Niggas)\nAll I, all I know is there should be, all I know\nAll I, all I know is there should be no reason (Look at y'all niggas)\nAll I know, you know, and you know (Niggas)\nLook at why, there's no reason\n\nLook at y'all smokin' ass niggas\nAfter every pull, niggas start chokin' ass niggas\n(You know why) Nigga-nigga\n(All, all I know is there's no reason)\nLook at y'all bitch ass niggas\nStop lyin' on your dick ass niggas\n(You know why) Nigga-nigga\n(All, all I know is there's no)\nLook at y'all lookin' ass niggas\nStop lookin' at my ass ass niggas (Reason)\nLook at y'all lyin' ass niggas\nTalkin' 'bout, \"It's paid off,\" but it's financed, lyin' ass nigga\nBunch of non-mogul ass niggas\nFrontin' like they got a plan, Boost Mobile ass nigga, nigga, nigga\nLook at y'all, can't get a job\nSo you plottin' how to rob ass niggas\nI ain't gotta check for y'all\nBut if I'ma check for y'all, I'ma need a check from y'all niggas\nI don't want sex, give a fuck about your ex\nI don't even want a text from y'all niggas\nI'm rapin' you niggas\nLook at this pic, look at what the fuck I gave to you niggas\nAin't feelin' these niggas\nNiggas want my time, call me Clinton, I'm billin' these niggas\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nAll I, all I know is there should be no reason\nAll I know is there should be no reason\nAll I, all I know is there should be, all I know\nAll I, all I know is there should be no reason\nAll I know, you know, and you know\nLook at why, there's no reason\n\nLook at y'all sharin' one bottle in the club\nOne bottle full of bub' ass niggas\nLook at y'all non havin' game ass niggas\nY'all niggas share a chain ass niggas\nSame cup in the hand ass nigga\nIn the club with a credit card scam ass nigga\nNo dick in the pants ass nigga\nI'll be damned if I fuck a non-man ass nigga\nI will, I will, I will never fuck a non-man ass nigga\nI would never lie\nEven if that nigga flew me and my bitches all the way out to Dubai\nPussy, you dry, pussy ass nigga, you lie\nPussy ass nigga, you high\nBitch I'm me, hundred on the wrist, I ski\nArt on the wall, Basqui', fuck who see\nLook at you fake dope dealers\nKnow real niggas that be movin' weight in them villas\nTalkin' 'bout ki's, say, \"It's ki's in the van\"\nBut he really move grams, and he split it with his mans\nAll I, all I know is there should be no reason\nAll I know is there should be no reason\nAll I, all I know is there should be, all I know\nAll I, all I know is there should be no reason\nAll I know, you know, and you know\nLook at why, there's no reason1.2KEmbed"}
{"text":"Pills and potions\nWe're overdosin'\nI'm angry, but\nI still love you\nPills and potions\nWe're overdosin'\nCan't stand it, but\nI still love you\n\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still lo-o-ove\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still love\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still lo-o-ove\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still love\n\nAyo, they could never make me hate you\nEven though what you was doin' wasn't tasteful\nEven though you out here lookin' so ungrateful\nI'ma keep it movin', be classy and graceful\nI told 'em it's no friends in the game, you ain't learn that yet\nAll the bridges you came over, don't burn that yet\nNiggas want respect, but niggas ain't earn that yet\nSelf-righteous and entitled but they swearin' on the Bible\nThat they love you when, really, they no different from all your rivals\nBut I still don't wish death on 'em, I just reflect on 'em\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nPills and potions\nWe're overdosin'\nI'm angry, but\nI still love you\nPills and potions\nWe're overdosin'\nCan't stand it, but\nI still love you\n\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still lo-o-ove\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still love\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still lo-o-ove\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still love\n\nYo, people'll love you and support you when it's beneficial\nI'ma forgive, I won't forget, but I'ma dead the issue\nSoon as you outta niggas lives is when they start to miss you\nThey see you doin' good, now it's kinda hard to diss you\nNiggas be sick when they remember all the bad they wished you\nNiggas be mad when they can't come and live lavish wit' you\nBu-bu-but I sped off in the Benzy\nI see the envy when I'm causin' a frenzy (Kyuh)\nSo I pop pills for 'em (Rrrah)\nCop cribs in the hills on 'em\nPills and potions\nWe're overdosin'\nI'm angry, but\nI still love you\nPills and potions\nWe're overdosin'\nCan't stand it, but\nI still love you\n\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still lo-o-ove\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still love\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still lo-o-ove\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still love\n\nI get high off\nYour memory\nI get high off\nYour memory\nI get high off\nYour memory\nIn due time\nWe'll be fine\nIn due time\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still lo-o-ove\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still love\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still lo-o-ove\nI still love, I still love, I still love, I still love\nI still love"}
{"text":"He said he came from Jamaica, he owned a couple acres\nA couple fake visas 'cause he never got his papers\nGave up on love, fucking with them heart breakers\nBut he was gettin' money with the movers and the shakers\nHe was mixed with a couple things, ball like a couple rings\nBricks in the condo and grams to Sing Sing\nLeft arm, baby mother tatted\nFive year bid up north when they ratted\nAnyway, I felt him, helped him, put him on lock, seat belt him\nTook him out to Belgium, welcome\nBitches this pretty, that's seldom\nThis box better than the box he was held in\nI'm Momma Dee in that order, I call him Daddy like daughters\nHe like it when I get drunk, but I like it when he be sober\nThat's top of the toppa, I never fuck with beginners\nI let him play with my pussy then lick it off of his fingers\nI'm in the zone\n\nThey holler at me, but it's you\nYou, this ain't high school\nMe and my crew, we can slide through\nGive it to you whenever you want\nPut it wherever you want\nBaby, it's yours\nAnywhere, everywhere\nBaby, it's your world, ain't it? (Alright)\nBaby, it's your world, ain't it? (Uh)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nShe got a nigga at home, and one on the side\nBest friend is a dyke, they fucked around a few times\nHer and her momma alike, so all they do is fight\nI tell her make me some money, she tell me, \"Make me a wife\"\nI tell her, \"Bitch, you crazy, fuck wrong with you?\"\nAnd excuse my French, but I'm a long kisser\nAnd then she try to tell me I'm the only one that's hittin'\nAnd I say, \"What about them niggas?\" She say, \"What about them niggas?\"\nYou right, what you doing tonight?\nPut on something tight, don't judge me, I get life\nShe love me like a brother, but fuck me like a husband\nPussy like a oven, too hot to put my tongue in\nAll I had to do is rub it, the genie out the bottle\nPussy so wet, I'ma need goggles\nShe tell me that's it's mine, I tell her stop lyin'\nMine and who else? She say worry 'bout yourself\nLil Tune\n\nThey holler at me, but it's you\nYou, this ain't high school\nMe and my crew, we can slide through\nGive it to you whenever you want\nPut it wherever you want\nBaby, it's yours\nAnywhere, everywhere\nBaby, it's your world, ain't it?\nBaby, it's your world, ain't it?\nI know you want it, boy\nI see you tryin'\nJust keep on pushin'\nI'ma let you slide in\nJust close your eyes and\nThis horizon\nIt's ready, come get you some\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"Dem-dem-dem-dem dem-dem\nDem-dem-dem-dem\nDem-dem-dem-dem dem-dem\nDem-dem-dem-dem\n\nUh, I'm in my prime, Optimus\nSagittarius, so you know I'm an optimist\nMan, keep it all real, I'm a prophetess (Okay)\nSo at least you took an L off your bucket list (Bucket list)\nIt's time to make hits and it's time to diss\nHow you still dissin', still can't find some hits? (Okay)\nWas it worth it, dummy? I ain't mind a bit\nStill on that show gettin' no chips, time to dip\n\nI, I, I, I-I, I-I, I (Okay)\nI'm still fly, just bagged a white guy (Okay)\nRitchie like Guy and I still eat Thai\nWant the Nicki cheat code? Come on, bitch, nice try\n\nLet's be real, all you bitches wanna look like me\nWanna be in demand, get booked like me\nWanna run up in the lab and cook like me\nBut ain't nan you hoes pussy good like me\nPussy so good his ex wanna still fight me\nFace so pretty bitches wish they could slice me\nShe just mad 'cause he never bought her ice like me\nI cut all my niggas off, but they would still wife me (Still wife me)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nRap bitches tell they team, \"Make 'em like Barbie\"\nHad to come off IG so they can't stalk me\nAll they do is copy looks, steal music too\nWant to see what bitches do when they lose the blue-print\nI mean the pinkprint, ho, let it sink in\nI spoke to Jay the other day, he's still the kingpin\nHe's still the only nigga that I woulda signed to\nIf I ain't sign to Wayne's perfectly designed crew\n'Cause we the big three, don't need a big speech\nWe made the biggest impact, check the spreadsheet\nThat's Lil Weezy, the Barbie and Drizzy Drake\nNiggas gettin' more cheese, kissy face\nI'm a bad bitch, fuck the bitch (Uh)\nBitch get slick, I'ma cut the bitch\nI'm a bad bitch, suck some dick (Okay)\nIf that bitch get slick, I'll cut the bitch\nI'll cut up the bitch, I'll gut the bitch (Okay)\nHad to fuck up the bitch, man, fuck the bitch\nWon't shoot her but I will gun-butt the bitch\nWhen we say \"Fuck the bitch,\" dick up the bitch\nShe was stuck-up so my niggas stuck up the bitch\nStill draggin' her so don't pick up the bitch\nGet the combination to the safe, drug the bitch\nKnow the whole operation been bugged the bitch\nI, I, I, I-I, I-I, I (Okay)\nI'm still fly, just bagged a white guy (Okay)\nRitchie like Guy and I still eat Thai\nWant the Nicki cheat code? Come on, bitch, nice try\n\nLet's be real, all you bitches wanna look like me\nWanna be in demand, get booked like me\nWanna run up in the lab and cook like me\nBut ain't nan you hoes pussy good like me\nPussy so good his ex wanna still fight me\nFace so pretty bitches wish they could slice me\nShe just mad 'cause he never bought her ice like me\nI cut all my niggas off, but they would still wife me (Still wife me)\n\nThey would still wife me\nThey would still wife me\nYup, him too, he would still wife me\nAhh, ha\n\nWhen it come to stealin' flows, these birds is fluent\nBut they stutter when get asked 'bout the queen's influence\nWhen it's clear they bite me, I'm flattered they like me\nI don't wanna check bitches, tell 'em wear their Nikes\nBarbie tingz, that's Barbie tingz\nBig Barbie tingz, that's Barbie tingz\nBig Barbie tingz, that's Barbie tingz\nUh, Barbie dreamhouse, Barbie rings\nThat's Barbie beach house, Barbie Benz\nUh, Barbie white picket Barbie fence\nAll tea, all shade, bitch, all offense\nIf you ever try to confiscate Barbie's Ken\nI'ma put you in the box where my dollies been\nChop it up and the next stop garbage bin\n'Cause you hoes too old to be gossipin'\nI'm just tryna find out when the new Porsche come in"}
{"text":"I am not Jasmine, I am Aladdin\nSo far ahead, these bums is laggin'\nSee me in that new thing, bums is gaggin'\nI'm startin' to feel like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nI'm startin' to feel like a dungeon dragon\nLook at my show footage, how these girls be spazzin'\nSo fuck I look like gettin' back to a has-been?\nYeah, I said it, has-been\nHang it up, flatscreen\nPlasma\n\"Hey Nicki, hey Nicki,\" asthma\nI got the pumps, it ain't got medicine\nI got bars, sentencin'\nI'm a bad bitch, I'm a cunt\nAnd I'll kick that ho, punt\nForced trauma, blunt\nYou play the back, bitch, I'm in the front\nYou need a job, this ain't cuttin' it\nNicki Minaj is who you ain't fuckin' with\nYou lil' Fraggle Rock, beat you with a pad-a-lock\nI am a movie, camera block\nYou outta work, I know it's tough\nBut enough is enough\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nRah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nLike a dungeon dragon, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nLike a dungeon dragon, like a dungeon dragon\nI ain't into S&M, but my whip's off the chain\nA little drop of candy paint drips off the frame\nTwisted-ass mind, got a pretzel for a brain\nAn eraser for a head, fuckin' pencil for a frame\nYou don't like it, then peel off, bitch\nEvery last woman on Earth I'll kill off\nAnd I still wouldn't fuck you, slut\nSo wipe the smile on your grill off\nI swear to God I'll piss a Happy Meal off\nGet the wheels turning, spin, and wheel off\nSnap the axle in half, bust the tie-rod\nQuit hollering, \"Why, God?\"\nHe ain't got shit to do with it\nBygones'll never be bygones\nThe world ain't finished swallowing my wad\nI ain't finished blowing it, nice bra\nHope it'll fit a tough titty, bitch, life's hard\nI swear to God life is a dumb blonde white broad\nWith fake tits and a bad dye job\nWho just spit in my fuckin' face and called me a fuckin' tightwad\nSo finally I broke down and bought her an iPod\nAnd caught her stealing my music\nSo I tied her arms and legs to the bed\nSet up the camera and pissed twice on her\nLook, two pees and a tripod\nThe moral to the story is life's treating you like dry sod?\nKick it back in its face, my God\nIt's Shady and Nicki Minaj, you might find the sight quite odd\nBut don't ask why, bitch, ask why not?\nThe world-world is my punching bag and\nIf I'm garbage, you're a bunch of maggots\nMake that face, go on, scrunch it up at me\nShow me the target so I can lunge and attack it\nLike a, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nYou fell off, off, they must've bumped your wagon\nYou must've went off the back, I'm 'bout to go off the deep end\nTold you to stay in your lane, you just jumped in traffic\nIs this the thanks that I get for puttin' you bitches on?\nIs it my fault that all of you bitches gone?\nShould've sent a thank-you note, you little ho\nNow I'ma wrap your coffin with a bow\n\"Nicki, she's just mad 'cause you took the spot\"\nWord, that bitch mad 'cause I took the spot?\nWell, bitch, if you ain't shittin', then get off the pot\nGot some niggas out in Brooklyn that'll off your top\nI hear the mumblin', I hear the cacklin'\nI got 'em scared, shook, panickin'\nOverseas, church, Vatican\nYou at a standstill, mannequin\nYou wanna sleep on me? Overnight?\nI'm the motherfuckin' boss, overwrite\nAnd when I pull up, vroom, motorbike\nNow all my niggas gettin' buck, overbite\nI see them dusty-ass Filas, Levis\nRaggedy Anns, holes in your knee-highs\nI call the play, now do you see why?\nThese bitches callin' me Manning, Eli\nManning, Eli, these bitches callin' me Manning, Eli\n\nAll you lil' faggots can suck it\nNo homo, but I'ma stick it to 'em like refrigerator magnets\nAnd I'm crooked enough to make straitjackets bend\nYeah, look who's back again, bitch, keep acting as if\nYou have the same passion I have, yeah, right\nStill hungry, my ass, you ass-dicks had gastric bypass\nAin't hot enough to set fire to dry grass\nAnd 'bout as violent as hair on eyelids, but eyelash\nGo take a flying leap of faith off a fuckin' balcony\n'Fore I shove a falcon wing up your fly ass\nYou know what time it is, so why ask?\nWhen Shady and Nicki's worlds clash\nIt's high class meets white trash\nRah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nLike a dungeon dragon, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nRah, rah, rah, like a dungeon dragon\nLike a dungeon dragon, like a dungeon dragon\nRoman, Roman, stop it, stop it\nYou've gone mad, mad, I tell you, mad\nYou and this boy Slim Shady\nWhat's going on? They'll lock you away\nThey'll put you in a jail cell, I promise\nTake your mother's warning, Roman, please\nBack to bed, run along, let's go, come on\nWash your mouth out with soap, boys"}
{"text":"(The Aphilliates, nigga, pay attention)\nYo, yo, yo\nWhat's up, what's the deal?\n(Trap-A-Holics)\nIt's your boy, Seven Up, man\nYou already know if it's up, then it's stuck, and all that\nBut you already know how it is, man\nShout out to Nicki Minaj, man\nI just wanted to share, man, you already know\nFree makeup, mixtapes, and all that, you know how we give it up\nGot me yellin' on a plane, man, listen up, man\n(Holiday Season)\n\nUh-huh, uh-huh, yo, ayo\nI was on the plane with Dwayne\nYou can call me Whitley, I go to Hillman\nListen, I'm the baddest in the school, the baddest in the game\nExcuse me, honey, but nobody's in my lane\nWhen you was in New York, you was fuckin' a Yankee\nI was fuckin' with base, I was pitchin' to Franky\nThese bitches so cranky, get 'em a hanky\nM-mommy, I'm cold, gimme my bla-\n\nWoah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah!\nOkay, okay, woah, woah, Holiday\nWait, hold on, hold on, Holiday!\nYou can't give it to 'em dry like that\nYou gotta get that shit wet first, nigga\nLike, come on now!\nYou gotta prep them for shit like that (I got you!)\nThey can't just get that shit right off the top\nLike, you gotta bring that shit back\nBring that shit the fuck back! (Let's go! Holiday Season, ayy!)\nI think we got y'all's attention now, right?\n(Holiday Season)\nNicki Minaj, DJ Holiday, (Holiday Season, nigga) Mizay Entertainment\nShouts out Trap-A-Holics (Trap-A-holics, biatch), we run this!\nLet's go, Nicki!\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nUh-huh, uh-huh, yo, ayo\nI was on the plane with Dwayne\nYou can call me Whitley, I go to Hillman\nListen, I'm the baddest in the school, the baddest in the game\nExcuse me, honey, but nobody's in my lane\nWhen you was in New York, you was fuckin' a Yankee\nI was fuckin' with base, I was pitchin' to Franky\nThese bitches so cranky, get 'em a hanky\nM-mommy, I'm cold, gimme my blankie\nFlyer than a kite, I get higher than Rapunzel\nKeep the Snow White, I could buy it by the bundle\nStep your cookies up 'fore they crumble\nDon't be actin' like the Cardinals and gon' fumble (Fumble)\n'Cause I'm a Steeler, fresh up out the dealer\nAll the dope boys gon' feel her\nFlow so sick I need a healer\nFuck is my MAC concealer?\nI be out in Queens on the back of four-\nWhee-whee-whee-whee-whee-whee-wheelers, I'm a big deal\nThat's why I get more head than a pigtail\nPut some ranch out, I\u2019m gettin' the munchies\nI think I'll have a rap bitch for my entr\u00e9e\n'Cause they be thinking they can spit, spit-shine my shoes\nYou know I keep a bad bitch, let me sign your boobs\nI'm the only thing hoppin', like a kangaroo\nI mean the only thing poppin', like a can of brew\nListen, you should buy a sixteen, 'cause I write it good\nThat 808 woof-woof, 'cause I ride it good\nAnd bitches can't find they man, 'cause I ride it good\nI'm the wolf, where is Little Red-a Riding Hood?\nNow, if you see a itty bitty piggy in the market\nGive that bitch a quarter and a car, tell her, \"Park it\"\nI'on't fuck with pigs, like \"as-salamu alaykum\"\nI put 'em in a field, I let Oscar Mayer bake 'em\nAnd if you see a itty bitty piggy in the market\nGive that bitch a quarter and a car, tell her, \"Park it\"\nI'on't fuck with pigs, like \"as-salamu alaykum\"\nI put 'em in a field and I let Oscar Mayer bake 'em, bitches, kyuh\n(Holiday Season!)\n\nWow\nIt's like I just single-handedly annihilated, you know, every rap bitch in the building\nIt's like, it's like, I'm Nicki Minaj, Nicki Lewinsky, Nicki the Ninja, Nicki the Boss, Nicki the Harajuku Barbie\nLike, I mean, I don't even know why you girls bother at this point\nLike, give it up! It's me!\nI win! You lose! Hahahahahahaha\nOh, shit! Hahaha, yo\n\nI'm a bad bitch, I'm a, I'm a bad bitch\nI'm a bad bitch, I'm a, I'm a bad bitch\nNow, I'm a bad bitch, I'm a, I'm a bad bitch\nHehe, I'm a bad bitch, I'm a, I'm a bad bitch\nHahahahahaha\nI told you, I told you before\nI told you y'all was gonna have to pick my fruit out\nNow listen, in addition to pickin' my fruit out\nI want y'all to start going to the boutiques\nY'knahmsayin, get some, get some, get some crazy shit for me\nI want, I want, you know, leopard-skin, and, you know?\nI want, I want all that crazy lizard-skin shit, like, you know?\nMake sure you...\nYou can be my personal shopper!\nHahahahahahahahahahahaha\nAyo!\nWoo\nUh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh"}
{"text":"RedOne\nUh\n\nLet's go to the beach-each, let's go get a wave\nThey say, what they gonna say\nHave a drink, clink, found the Bud Light\nBad bitches like me is hard to come by\nThe Patr\u00f3n own, let's go get it on\nThe zone on, yes, I'm in the zone\nIs it two, three? Leave a good tip\nI'ma blow off my money and don't give two shits, oh-oh\n\nI'm on the floor, floor, I love to dance\nSo give me more, more 'til I can't stand\nGet on the floor, floor like it's your last chance\nIf you want more, more, then here I am\n\nStarships were meant to fly\nHands up and touch the sky (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nCan't stop 'cause we're so high\nLet's do this one more time (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nStarships, were meant to fly\nHands up and touch the sky (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nLet's do this one last time\nCan't stop\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nWe're higher than a motherfucka\nWe're higher than a motherfucka\nWe're higher than a motherfucka\nJump in my hoopty-hoopty-hoop, I own that\nAnd I ain't payin' my rent this month, I owe that\nBut fuck who you want, and fuck who you like\nDancehall life, there's no end in sight\nTwinkle, twinkle little star\nNow everybody let me hear you say, \"Ray, ray, ray\"\nNow spend all your money, 'cause today payday\nAnd if you a G, you a G-G-G\nMy name is Onika, you can call me Nicki (Woo)\n\nGet on the floor, floor like it's your last chance\nIf you want more, more, then here I am\n\nStarships were meant to fly\nHands up and touch the sky (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nCan't stop 'cause we're so high\nLet's do this one more time (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nStarships, were meant to fly\nHands up, and touch the sky (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nLet's do this one last time\nCan't stop\nWe're higher than a motherfucka\nWe're higher than a motherfucka\nWe're higher than a motherfucka\nStarships were meant to fly\nHands up and touch the sky\nCan't stop 'cause we're so high\nLet's do this one more time (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nStarships, were meant to fly\nHands up, and touch the sky (Oh-oh-oh-oh)\nLet's do this one last time\nCan't stop\n\nWe're higher than a motherfucka\nWe're higher than a motherfucka\nWe're higher than a motherfucka"}
{"text":"I fly with the stars in the skies\nI am no longer trying to survive\nI believe that life is a prize\nBut to live doesn't mean you're alive\nDon't worry 'bout me and who I fire\nI get what I desire, it's my empire\nAnd yes, I call the shots, I am the umpire\nI sprinkle holy water upon a vampire\nIn this very moment, I'm king\nIn this very moment, I slay Goliath with a sling\nThis very moment, I bring\nPut it on everything that I will retire with the ring\nAnd I will retire with the crown, yes\nNo, I'm not lucky, I'm blessed, yes\nClap for the heavyweight champ, me\nBut I couldn't do it all alone, we\nYoung Money raised me, grew up out in Baisley\nSouthside Jamaica, Queens, and it's crazy\n'Cause I'm still hood, Hollywood couldn't change me\nShout out to my haters, sorry that you couldn't faze me\nAin't being cocky, we just vindicated\nBest believe that when we done, this moment will be syndicated\nI don't know, this night just remind me of\nEverything they deprived me of (Yeah)\nPut your drinks up\nIt's a celebration every time we link up\nWe done did everything they can think of\nGreatness is what we on the brink of\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI wish that I could have this moment for life, for life, for life\n'Cause in this moment, I just feel so alive, alive, alive\nI wish that I could have this moment for life, for life, for life\nThis is my moment, I just feel so alive, alive, alive\n\nWhat I tell them hoes? Bow, bow, bow to me, drop down to your knees\nYoung Money the mafia, that's word to Lil' Cease\nI'm in the Dominican, Big Papi Ortiz\nDoing target practice, all these bitches just aiming to please\nShout out to the CEO, 500 Degreez\nShout out to the OVO, red wings and fatigues, oh\nNiggas wanna be friends, how coincidental\nThis supposed to be y'all year? We ain't get the memo\nA young king, pay me in gold\n40 got a bunch of weed he ain't even roll\nThese niggas be droppin' songs, they ain't even cold\nWeezy on top, and that nigga ain't even home yet\nYeah, be very afraid\nThese other rappers gettin' bodied and carried away\nFuck it, me and Nicki Nick gettin' married today\nAnd all you bitches that be hatin' can catch a bouquet, ooh\nYeah, you a star in my eyes\nYou and all them white girls, party of five\nAre we drinking a lil' more? I can hardly decide\nI can't believe we really made it, I'm partly surprised, I swear\nDamn, this one for the books, man\nI swear this shit is as fun as it looks, man\nI'm really tryna make it more than what it is\n'Cause everybody dies, but not everybody lives, ah\nI wish that I could have this moment for life, for life, for life\n'Cause in this moment, I just feel so alive, alive, alive\nI wish that I could have this moment for life, for life, for life\nThis is my moment, I just feel so alive, alive, alive\n\nThis is my moment\nI waited all my\nLife, I can tell it's time\nDrifting away, I'm\nOne with the sunsets\nI have become alive\n\nI wish that I could have this moment for life, for life, for life\n'Cause in this moment, I just feel so alive, alive, alive\nI wish that I could have this moment for life, for life, for life\n'Cause in this moment, I just feel so alive, alive, alive"}
{"text":"(Bangladesh)\nShitted on 'em\nMan, I just shitted on 'em\nShitted on 'em\nPut your number twos in the air if you did it on 'em\nShitted on 'em\nMan, I just shitted on 'em\nShitted on 'em\nPut your number twos in the air if you did it on 'em\n\nAll these bitches is my sons\nAnd I'ma go and get some bibs for 'em\nA couple formulas, little pretty lids on 'em\nIf I had a dick, I would pull it out and piss on 'em (Pss)\nLet me shake it off\nI just signed a couple deals, I might break you off\nAnd we ain't making up, I don't need a mediator\nJust let them bums blow steam, radiator\n\n(That was a earthquake, bitch), shitted on 'em\n(You felt the ground shake, right?), man, I just shitted on 'em\n(You bitches ain't fucking with her), shitted on 'em\nPut your number twos in the air if you did it on 'em (You must've, ah)\n(You must've lost your fuckin' mind), shitted on 'em\n(You must've bumped your fuckin' head), man, I just shitted on 'em\n(You crazy, stupid, ugly, monkey-looking bitches), shitted on 'em\nPut your number twos in the air if you did it on 'em (Uh, yo, ah)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nThis stone is flawless, F1\nI keep shooters up top in the F1\nA lot of bad bitches beggin' me to F one\nBut I'ma eat them rap bitches when the chef come\nThrow some fresh ones\nMore talent in my motherfuckin' left thumb\nShe ain't a Nicki fan, then the bitch deaf, dumb\nYou ain't my son, you my motherfuckin' step-son\n\n(I don't know what layaway look like), shitted on 'em\n(Bitch, I can't even spell \"welfare\"), man, I just shitted on 'em\n(You got me mistaken with your mother, ho), shitted on 'em\nPut your number twos in the air if you did it on 'em (You bitches at the bottom of the totem pole)\n(We at the top, bitch, she flopped), shitted on 'em\n(Louis Vuitton everything, bitch), man, I just shitted on 'em\n(Gucci, we don't fuck with it, it's too cheap, motherfucker), shitted on 'em\nPut your number twos in the air if you did it on 'em (You bitches, ah, man)\n\nAll these bitches is my sons\nAnd I ain't talkin' 'bout Phoenix\nBitch, I get money, so I dos what I pleases\nI live where the motherfuckin' pools and the trees is\nBroke bitches so crusty (Disgust me)\nGave the bitch a ride, got the Continental dusty\nTrust me, I keep a couple hundred in the duff'-B\nCouple wet wipes case a bum try to touch me, ew\nI'm the terminator\nBitch talk slick, I'ma have to terminate her\nThese little nappy-headed hoes need a perminator\nYou my seed, I'll spray you with the germinator (Sh-sh-sh-sh-sh)\nMove back, bugs\nMatter fact, you know the queen could use a back rub (Ah)\nIf you could turn back time, Cher\nYou used to be here, now you're gone, Nair\n(You nappy-headed son of a bitches), shitted on 'em\n(I'ma start throwing Just for Me perm at your heads), man, I just shitted on 'em\n(I'ma get the kid version), shitted on 'em\nPut your number twos in the air if you did it on 'em (The kid version, 'cause you're a bunch of kids)\n(Bunch of lil' nappy-headed hoes runnin' around, yeah), shitted on 'em\n(Just for Me), man, I just shitted on 'em\n(You know it, yeah, ho, you know it), shitted on 'em\nPut your number twos in the air if you did it on 'em (Just for Me perm in your head when we see you, ow)"}
{"text":"Yo, I had to reinvent, I put the V in vent\nI put the heat in vents, man, I been competin' since\nI look beyond what people sayin' and I see intent\nThen I just sit back and decipher what they really meant\nCherish these nights, cherish these people\nLife is a movie, but there'll never be a sequel\nAnd I'm good with that, as long as I'm peaceful\nAs long as seven years from now, I'm takin' my daughter to preschool\nCherish these days, man, do they go quick\nJust yesterday, I swear it was '06\nTen years ago, that's when you proposed\nI looked down, \"Yes, I suppose\"\n\nAll things go, all things go\nAll things go, all things go\n\nI feel one minute, yeah, we got it, then it's gone\nWhile we keep waitin' for a moment to live for\nSo can't nobody ever tell me that I'm wrong\n'Cause I'ma ride out wit' you, still, the night is young\nAnd we keep goin', we go (We go, we go)\nWe wake back up and do it all again (And we know, we know)\nSaid, \"Fuck the world, we ridin' 'til the end\"\nWhen all is said and done, look what we've become (Oh, we go)\nI just want you to know that I did it for you\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI lost my little cousin to a senseless act of violence\nHis sister said he wanted to stay with me, but I didn't invite him\nWhy didn't he ask? Or am I just buggin'?\n'Cause since I got fame, they don't act the same\nEven though they know that I love 'em\nFamily ties broken before me\nNiggas tryna kill him, he ain't even call me\nAnd that's the reflection of me\nYes, I get it, I get it was all me\nI'll pop a pill and remember\nThe look in his eyes the last day he saw me\n\nAll things go, all things go\nAll things go, all things go\n\nI feel one minute, yeah, we got it, then it's gone\nWhile we keep waitin' for a moment to live for\nSo can't nobody ever tell me that I'm wrong\n'Cause I'ma ride out wit' you, still, the night is young\nAnd we keep goin', we go (We go, we go)\nWe wake back up and do it all again (And we know, we know)\nSaid, \"Fuck the world, we ridin' 'til the end\"\nWhen all is said and done, look what we've become (Oh, we go)\nI just want you to know that I did it for you\nLemme make this clear: I'm not difficult, I'm just 'bout my business\nI'm not into fake industry parties and fake agendas\nRock with people for how they make me feel, not what they give me\nEven the ones that hurt me the most, I still show forgiveness\nI love my mother more than life itself and that's a fact\nI'd give it all if somehow I could just rekindle that\nShe never understands why I'm so overprotective\nThe more I work, the more I feel like somehow they're neglected\nI want 'Caiah to go to college just to say, \"We did it\"\nMy child with Aaron woulda been sixteen any minute\nSo in some ways, I feel like 'Caiah is the both of them\nIt's like he's 'Caiah's little angel lookin' over him\nAnd I know Jelani will always love me and I'll always love him\nAnd I'm just his little sister, not Nicki Minaj when I'm around him\nGee, we did it, let's leave this imprint\nJust finished writin', this is The Pinkprint\n\nAll things go, all things go\nAll things go, all things go"}
{"text":"Eardrummers\nMhm, uh-huh, uh-huh\nMhm, yo, hold up, hold up\nMhm, mhm, mhm, mhm, mhm\n\nYo, hold up, hold up, hold up, okay, hold up\nYou see a bad bitch coming through, yo, what's the hold up?\nI'm in that new new, me and New New when I roll up\nI tell the valet, \"Park my Benz and bring the Rolls up\"\nYo, hold up, hold up, hold up, okay, hold up\nHe see me lookin' pretty every time he scroll up\nMight gotta let the blicky hit you if you stroll up\nNow put your hands up, it's a hold up\nRun me the money (Go!)\n\n'Cause I be the baddie, B, Barbie tings, banging body B (Go!)\nEverybody be on my D, yo, I gotta be (Go!) in reality\nSuck a D if you doubted me\nBack of the 'Bach, back of the 'Bach\nBack of the 'Bach, back of the 'Bach (Woo!)\nWho on Barbie D? Who on Barbie D? Everybody (Go!)\nOoh, you gotta see, honestly, on my odyssey (Go!)\nI'm the baddest B, I don't even know how to speak\nHat to the, hat to the back and relax, you in the back of the 'Bach\n(Come on!)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nSee, a bitch got more coins than a game room\nSo we ain't ever hatin' in TheShadeRoom (Nah)\nSee, I keep my sons in a playroom\nSo me and you ain't ever in the same room\n\nI tell him eat the cookie 'cause it's good for him\nAnd when he eat the cookie he got good form\nHe know I don't never cheat because I'm good to him\nMight gotta have his baby, nurses yellin' \"push\" for him\nYou see I let him eat the cookie 'cause it's good for him\nAnd whenever he eat the cookie he got good form\nHe know that when I'm pullin' up, I'm in a good foreign\nI be like ooh, he love me, ooh, he love me, good for him\nCome on, come on, come on\nI be like ooh, he love me, ooh, he love me, good for him\nCome on\n\nI slick, slick drop the top like nip slips\nSo he tryna smash like when the whip flips\nI hit licks just to floss with this wrist\nAnd when I leave my bitches we all say, \"Kiss, kiss\"\nI'm in that new new De La Renta, channeling Bugs Bunny\n'Cause all I want is karats and some big drug money\nI'm only loyal to the niggas that'll bust guns for me\nThe jig up, it's a stick up, run me the money (Go!)\n'Cause I be the baddie, B, Barbie tings, banging body B (Go!)\nEverybody be on my D, yo, I gotta be (Go!) in reality\nSuck a D if you doubted me\nBack of the 'Bach, back of the 'Bach\nBack of the 'Bach, back of the 'Bach (Woo!)\nWho on Barbie D? Who on Barbie D? Everybody (Go!)\nOoh, you gotta see, honestly, on my odyssey (Go!)\nI'm the baddest B, I don't even know how to speak\nHat to the, hat to the back and relax, you in the back of the 'Bach\n(Come on!)\n\nSee a bitch get more press than a key pad\nBefore you suck me off, get a knee pad\nSee, I pull the strings like a tea bag\nI'm prolly with my jeweler playin' freeze tag\n\nI tell him eat the cookie 'cause it's good for him\nAnd when he eat the cookie he got good form\nHe know I don't never cheat because I'm good to him\nMight gotta have his baby, nurses yellin' \"push\" for him\nYou see I let him eat the cookie 'cause it's good for him\nAnd whenever he eat the cookie he got good form\nHe know that when I'm pullin' up, I'm in a good foreign\nI be like ooh, he love me, ooh, he love me, good for him\nCome on, come on, come on\nI be like ooh, he love me, ooh, he love me, good for him\nCome on"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsNo Flex Zone (Remix) Lyrics\n(Hey) No flex zone, (hey) no flex zone\n(Hey) They know better, (hey) they know better\n(Hey) No flex zone, (hey) no flex zone\n(Hey) They know better, (hey) they know better\nWon a gold medal, and a gold bezel\nI treat these hoes special, now ya ho jealous\nFreak hoes, got several, they tens or better\nI'm a trendsetter, I'm a go-getter\n\nHell no, you can't use my lip gloss\nPop a Perc', now I'm on lift off\nAss still fat, it's on Rick Ross\nYou bitches make a nigga dick soft\nBitch, ball like I'm at tip off\nGet it, get it wet, then I rub the tip on\nRag and Bone jeans, I can slip off\nBitch, I've been hot since flip phones\nRunning this game for five years, guess that's why my feet hurt\nWonder when they bite me, do these bitches' teeth hurt?\nYes, I am an icon, that's me on your T-shirt\nThought you knew better, do your fucking research\nYou ain\u2019t know, this the no rip zone\nThis the you can't beat Nic zone\nMadison Square when the Knicks home\nI live next door to Brad Pitt\u2019s home\nI like bad bitches, 'cause they like bad bitches too\nI like hood niggas, with a bad attitude\nThey could never reach Young Nick' magnitude\nEven if they had a longitude, latitude\nListen up, ho, this is my territory\nYou are my son, like an episode of Maury\nLike an episode of ER, bitch, I\u2019m hotter than the D.R\nWhen it comes to rap skills, nobody wan' see her\nMuhfuckas flexin', muhfuckas actin'\nBitches is my sons and they causin' contractions\nAin\u2019t pushing out, I'ma give them to the clinic\nCah wait, we nuh rate dem gyal and dem gimmick\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nWhack sauce, I can hear it in your tone\nThis nigga keep staring at my phone\nBut if you\u2019re ugly, it\u2019s a no text zone\nIt\u2019s a no sex zone, it\u2019s a no flex zone\nWhack sauce, I can hear it in your tone\nThis nigga keep staring at my phone\nBut if you\u2019re ugly, it\u2019s a no text zone\nIt\u2019s a no sex zone, it\u2019s a no flex zone\n\n(Hey) No flex zone, (Hey) no flex zone\n(Hey) They know better, (Hey) they know better\n(Hey) No flex zone, (Hey) no flex zone\n(Hey) They know better, (Hey) they know better\nWon a gold medal, and a gold bezel\nI treat these hoes special, now ya ho jealous\nFreak hoes, got several, they tens or better\nI'm a trendsetter, I'm a go-getter"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsFavorite Lyrics\nI don't want no drama\nI just wanna be your diamond, babe\nGuaranteed to be a problem\nEvery time I get around you, babe\nI just want you to need me\nYou might really wanna try me, babe\nAll I know I want a rider\nAll I know I want a rider babe\nYou know that you need a rider\nYou know that you need a rider, babe\nYou know that you need a rider\nYou know that you need a rider, babe, ah yeah\n\nYo, I just wanna be ya rider, you should pull up in that Spyder\nYou should let me hit the mic, and I ain't talking about the fighter\nGet it lit without a lighter, let's pull an all-nighter\nTell me-tell me what you need, got the weed, I'm a bad lil' bitch and I never indict her\nGet locked, I'ma write ya, you on the road? I'ma Skype ya\nI-I-I-I-I don't wanna hype ya, but you a lucky nigga if my mean ass like ya\nYou ain't never have a bitch understand you, most of them wanna use you when they ran through\nI just wanna be somebody that can add to, your wife, be a friend, be a teacher and a fan too\nI just wanna listen, when you leave I say, \"Damn, I fucking miss him\"\nI just wanna be your vixen, give you something real wet to put your lips in\nI wanna be the only one that can check you, and still respect you\nCause it's you I would change for, you always make sure\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI just wanna be your favorite\nI just wanna be your favorite\nI just wanna be your favorite\nI just wanna be your favorite\nWon't you let me be your favorite?\n\nAyo, I just wanna be your first go-to, do you like a real one supposed to, livin' bi-coastal\nScoop me in the truck, late-night on a humble\nMeet me out in Queens, where the city want a sundown\nYou could put your gun down, you could have fun now\nYou could tell your niggas that you won now, one down\nRun through the clubs with the baddest, bitches is the maddest, nothin' else matters (Matters)\nAnd they say, Birkin where the bag is, got a lot of bags, but we never got baggage\nWinter Wonderland on my hands, call me Alice, balance\nI'ma have you coming in my palace\nLondon, Tokyo, Paris, let me update your status\n'Cause it's you I would change for, you always make sure\n\nI just wanna be your favorite\nI just wanna be your favorite\nI just wanna be your favorite\nI just wanna be your favorite\nWon't you let me be your favorite?\nYou should already know\nYou should already know\nYou should already know\nYou should already know\nYou know that you need a rider\nYou know that you need a rider, babe\nYou know that you need a rider\nYou know that you need a rider, babe, ah yeah\nI just wanna be your favorite\nI just wanna be your favorite\nYou should already know, you should already know\nI just wanna be your favorite\nYou should already know, you should already know\nWon't you let me be your favorite? (Oh, baby)\nYou know that you need a rider, rider, rider, rider, rider, rider\nOh, oh, oh\nYou know that you need a rider, rider, rider, ri-i-ider\nWon't you let me be your favorite?\nYou know that you need a rider, rider, rider, rider, rider, rider\nOh, oh, oh\nYou know that you need a rider, rider, rider, ri-i-ider"}
{"text":"Got a bed wit' your name on it\nWit\u2019 your name on it\nGot a kiss wit' your name on it\nWit' your name on it\n\nThousand dollar sheets\nWaitin\u2019 for you on some thousand dollar sheets\nI got Carter III on repeat\nBack shots to the beat of \"A Milli\" on you\nGot me acting like you got a milli on you\nHe say I'm the GOAT, yeah, the billy on you\nI could make all your dreams come true\nWanna fall through, then you better come through\n\nBut don't make me wait until the morning\n\nGot a bed wit' your name on it\nWit' your name on it\nGot a kiss wit' your name on it\nWit' your name on it\nLove me good, love me down\nDon't turn me down\nGot a bed wit\u2019 your name on it\nWit\u2019 your name on it\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nStrawberry lingerie\nWaitin' for you, strawberries, lingerie\nYou told me you on the way\nMess around, mess around, put it down on you\nI\u2019ma do everything I said I'm gon' do\nPretty little body, it look better on you\nMight have to blow it like a feather on you\nWaterfalls, ooh, yeah, you better come through\n\nBut don't make me wait until the morning\n\nGot a bed wit\u2019 your name on it\nWit' your name on it\nGot a kiss wit' your name on it\nWit' your name on it\nLove me good, love me down\nDon't turn me down\nGot a bed wit' your name on it (Oh, yeah)\nWit' your name on it (On it)\n\nO-on, on it (On it)\nO-on, on it\nO-on, on it\nO-on, on it (But I put your name on it)\nYo, he in my startin' five, he get his city live\nThese niggas scared, they doing 50 in a 55\nI'm tryna clap him like somebody told him, \"Gimme five\"\nI'ma be a half an hour, but I told him, \"Gimme five\"\nI'm tryna dance on him, blow my advance on 'em\nI like him better when he got some sweatpants on him\nI like his hang time, he said his head right\nI said go all the way down and then head right\nI watch him fuck it up, look at him luckin' up\nI said, \"You need some thick skin, baby, suck it up\"\nHe go insane on it, I put my fame on it\nCoulda put ZAYN on it, but I put your name on it\n\nI got a bed wit' your name on it\nWit' your name on it\nGot a kiss wit' your name on it\nWit' your name on it, yeah\nLove me good, love me down\nDon't turn me down (Turn it down, baby)\nGot a bed wit' your name on it (Your name)\nWit' your name on it"}
{"text":"Uh, yo, yo\n\nI get it cracking like a bad back\nBitch talking she the queen when she looking like a lab rat\nI'm Angelina, you Jennifer\nC'mon, bitch, you see where Brad at?\n\nIce my wrist-es, then I piss on bitches\nYou could suck my diznick if you take these jizzes\nYou don't like them disses, give my ass some kisses\nYeah, they know what this is, give bitches the business\n\n'Cause I pull up and I'm stuntin' but I ain't a stuntman\nYes, I'm rockin' Jordans, but I ain't a jumpman\nBitches play the back, 'cause they know I'm the frontman\nPut me on a dollar, 'cause I'm who they trust in\nAyo, SB, what the fuck's good?\nWe ship platinum, them bitches is shippin' wood\nThem nappy headed hoes, but my kitchen good\nI wish, I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish a bitch would\n\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho\nYou a stupid ho, yeah, you a, you a stupid ho\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho (Stupid, stupid)\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho (You stupid, stupid)\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho (You stupid, stupid)\nYou a stupid ho (You stupid, stupid), yeah, you a, you a stupid ho (You stupid, stupid)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nUh, look, Bubbles, go back to ya habitat\nMJ gone and I ain't havin' that\nHow you gon' be the stunt double to the nigga monkey?\nTop of that I'm in the Phantom lookin' hella chonky\n\nIce my wrist-es, then I piss on bitches\nYou could suck my diznick if you take these jizzes\nYou don't like them disses, give my ass some kisses\nYeah, they know what this is, give bitches the business\n\n'Cause I pull up in the Porsche, but I ain't de Rossi\nPretty bitches only could get in my posse\nYes, my name is Roman, last name is Zolanski\nBut no relation to Roman Polanski\nHey, yo, Baby Bop, fuck you and your EP\nWho's gassin' this ho? BP?\nHmm, thinks\nOne, two, three to the Nicki Minaj blink\n'Cause these hoes so busted, hoes is so crusty\nThese bitches is my sons and I don't want custody\nHoes so busted, hoes is so crusty\nThese bitches is my sons and I don't want custody\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho\nYou a stupid ho, yeah, you a, you a stupid ho\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho (Stupid, stupid)\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho (You stupid, stupid)\nYou a stupid ho, you a, you a stupid ho (You stupid, stupid)\nYou a stupid ho (You stupid, stupid), yeah, you a, you a stupid ho (You stupid, stupid)\n\nIf you cute, then the crew can roll\nIf you sexy, eat my cucka roll\nPut ya cape on, you a super ho\n2012, I'm at the Super Bowl\n\nStupid hoes is my enemy, stupid hoes is so wack\nStupid ho shoulda befriended me, then she coulda prolly came back\nStupid hoes is my enemy, stupid hoes is so wack\nStupid ho shoulda befriended me, then she could've probably came back\nYou a stupid ho, you a stupid ho\nYou a stupid ho\nAnd I ain't hit that note, but fuck you stupid ho, just fuck you stupid ho\nI said fuck a stupid ho, just fuck a stupid ho\nI said fuck a stupid ho, just fuck a stupid ho\nI said fuck a stupid ho, just fuck a stupid ho\nI am the female Weezy"}
{"text":"Ayo, as the world turns, the blunt burns\n(Who you gettin' at, Nicki?)\nWatch them cunts learn\nFashion icon, Audrey Hepburn\nI move keys, but you hoes get one turn\nYeah, you get one turn, and one urn\nI straighten all these bitches out with one perm\nWho ever gassed 'em ain't none of my concern\nBut, see, the Lord showed me dreams to confirm\nThey done went to witch doctors to bury the Barbie\nBut I double back, kill bitches, bury the body\nAnd that go for anybody, you'll be thoroughly sorry\nI could wage war or I come in peace like Gandhi\nAll my powers back, now I'm scary to zombies\nBring the heat to her, sizzle, I ain't talking Kalonji\nI done fasted and prayed, had to cleanse my body\nAbstaining from sex, had to zen my body\nI ain't givin', so don't ask, I don't lend my body\nGotta be king status to give men my body\n(He gotta be king status to get in ya body?)\nFuck yeah, 'cause a Queen is what I embody, uh\n\nGanja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, yeah\nGanja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, yeah\nEvery time I get high, I just think about you\nEvery time I get high, I just think about you\nEvery time I get high, I just think about you\nEvery time I get high, I just think about you\nGanja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, yeah\nGanja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, yeah\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nYo, you can't wear a Nicki wig and then be Nicki\nThat's like a fat nigga thinkin' he can be Biggie\nOne rough ride, now you DMX and Swizzy\nOne hot video, you Hype? Nah, you just giddy\nYou made one dope beat, now you Kanye?\nYou got a nigga named JAY, now you 'Yonc\u00e9?\nYou got about three stacks, now you Andr\u00e9?\nYou put a part in your fade, yeah, you Nas, bae\nYou gotta have real skill, gotta work for that\nIf it's really your passion, would you give the world for that?\nUnlike a lot of these hoes, whether wack or lit\nAt least I can say I wrote every rap I spit\nPut my blood, sweat, and tears in perfectin' my craft\nStill every team's number one pick in the draft\nYou could bring anybody, weatherman, pick a day\nI\u2019m Kobe, KD, Kyrie, pick a K\n\nGanja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, yeah\nGanja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, yeah\nEvery time I get high, I just think about you\nEvery time I get high, I just think about you\nEvery time I get high, I just think about you\nEvery time I get high, I just think about you\nGanja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, yeah\nGanja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn\nI see ya, I see you\nI see ya, I see you\n\nTo my surprise, I saw you in my eyes\nThe nights I cried, repented of the lies\nTo my, na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na\nTo my, na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na\nOh, na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na (Ooh)\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na\nOoh, burn, baby (Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na)"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsBuy a Heart Lyrics\nYou should say it right now\nAnybody wanna buy a heart?\nAnybody wanna buy a heart?\nAnybody wanna buy a heart?\nCause I don't use the shit anyway\nBut okay, I guess it's my fault\nWestside shorty, with an eastside nigga\nThey say it's levels to this shit, I'm a G5 nigga\nAnd every city I be in, you know she fly with us\nIt's like Hov got Bey, it's like Bey got Jigga\nReally though let me take y'all back\n'09, double R drop top with the top down\nPulled up, double parked, hopped out, tried to spit my game\nIt didn't work, got shot down\nBut I can tell by the bag, by the wrist and the ring on that\nSomebody had it on lockdown\nThe moral of the story not to speak on that\nShe on the team, shorty mine now\nAnd we don't ever ever ever make love\nAnd we don't ever ever ever say \"love\"\nUnless I'm all up in it, she tellin' me she love that D on that, I don't ever say uh\nBad bitch, ain't nothin' made up\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy\nThe heart from a real one from Philly reppin' that north side?\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nAnybody? Anybody?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy a heart?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy love?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy a heart?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy trust\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy a heart?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy love?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy love?\n\nRihmeek, I'ma have to tell the truth if I speak\nUnless you want to play, you ain't say this the other day\nYou said you was in love, and I still didn't budge\nCause I already seen how you be going in when you be in them clubs\n(I'm not even sure if this is right but, it feels good)\nI could tell you was analyzing me, I could tell you was criticizing me\nI could tell you was fantasizing that you would come slide in me and confide in me\nHe could tell that I was wifey material\nHe was liking my style in my videos\nI wasn't looking for love I was looking for a buzz\nSo at times I would lie and say I'm busy, yo\nCause it's too much, and it's too clutch\nWho wants rumors of the two of us\nBut when you're away, I can't get you out of my mind\nBut what if I'm not the one and you're wasting your time?\nBut you waited\nAnybody? Anybody?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy a heart?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy love?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy a heart?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy trust\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy a heart?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy love?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy?\nAnybody, anybody, anybody wanna buy love?\n\nIts a heart for sale, who's buying?\nI don't care who's crying\nIts trust for sale, who's buying?\nI don't care who's lying"}
{"text":"She's alright\nThat girl\u2019s alright with me, yeah\nAyo (Hey, hey, hey, hey)\n\nI can lick it, I can ride it while you slippin' and slidin'\nI can do all them little tricks and keep the dick up inside it\nYou can smack it, you can grip it, you can go down and kiss it\nAnd every time he leave me \u2019lone, he always tell me he miss it\n\nHe want a F-R-E-A-K (Freaky girl)\nF-R-E-A-K (Freaky girl)\nA-K, A-K, A-K\nE-A-K (Freaky girl)\nF-R-E-A-K (Freaky girl)\n\nOne thing about me, I'm the baddest alive\nHe know the prettiest bitch didn't come until I arrive\nI don't let bitches get to me, I fuck they man if they try\nI got a princess face, a killer body, samurai mind\nThey can't be Nicki, they so stupid, I just laugh when they try\nA thong bikini up my ass, I think I'll go for a dive\nHis ex-bitch went up against me, but she didn't survive\nOn applications I write \"pressure\" 'cause that\u2019s what I apply (Brr)\nP-P-P-Pressure applied, can\u2019t fuck a regular guy\nWetter than umbrellas and stickier than apple pie\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI can lick it, I can ride it while you slippin' and slidin\u2019\nI can do all them little tricks and keep the dick up inside it\nYou can smack it, you can grip it, you can go down and kiss it\nAnd every time he leave me 'lone, he always tell me he miss it\n\nHe want a F-R-E-A-K (Freaky girl)\nF-R-E-A-K (Freaky girl)\nA-K, A-K, A-K\nE-A-K (Freaky girl)\nF-R-E-A-K (Freaky girl)\n\n'Cause, what the fuck? This ain't Chanel, nigga, custom down?\nLike, what the fuck? This ain\u2019t Burberry, custom brown\nHe said \"Could you throw it back while you touch the ground?\"\nThen he said \"Do that pussy purr?\" I said \"Yup, meow\"\nHold up, fuck-boys, ain't need no for you to roll up\nAin't no need for you to double tap neither, scroll up\nKeep these bitches on they toes like Manolo\nBe on the lookout when I come through, BOLO\nOh, woah, elegant bitch with a ho glow\nIf it ain't big, then I won't blow\nEeny, meeny, miny, moe\nFuck is the tea? I just F'd a G (Let's go)\nMade him say \"Uh,\" just ask Master P (Let's go)\nBall so hard, I just took a knee (Let's go)\nGet me rocky ASAP, nigga, word to Rih (Let's go)\nFreak\nF-F-Freak\nSome gyal a freak, gyal a freak\nGyal a freak, freak, freak, freak\n\nI can lick it, I can ride it while you slippin' and slidin'\nI can do all them little tricks and keep the dick up inside it\nYou can smack it, you can grip it, you can go down and kiss it\nAnd every time he leave me 'lone, he always tell me he miss it\n\nHe want a F-R-E-A-K (Freaky girl)\nF-R-E-A-K (Freaky girl)\nA-K, A-K, A-K\nE-A-K (Freaky girl)\nF-R-E-A-K (Freaky girl)"}
{"text":"Zaytoven\nMetro Boomin want some more, nigga\nWant some more, want some more\nEven though a nigga been getting to it\nWant-want-want some more\n(Still, want some more) Want some more, want some more\nEverytime I end up getting it\nWant-want-want-want some more\nWhen they start talking crazy\nThat's when I know that they want some more\nI know that I'm getting it, but fuck it\n'Cause I want some more\nWhe-whe-when they start talking crazy\nThat's when I know that they want some more\nEvery time I end up getting it\nWant-want-want-want some more\n\nI-I-I-I'm in this bitch, I'm getting money\nOne minute they hate me, then they love me\nAin't got nothing for me, these dudes is funny\nThat's why I'm throwing shade like it's sunny\nWho-who-who had Eminem on the first album?\nWho had Kanye saying, \u201cShe a problem?\u201d\nWho the fuck came in the game, made her own column?\nWho-who made Lil Wayne give 'em five million?\nWhy the fuck I gotta say it, though? You niggas don't know it yet?\nFootball touchdown on the Boeing jet\nYou my son, but I'm just not showing yet\nWrist icy, but it ain't snowing yet\nYou can tell I'm the illest, cause my dividend is the biggest\nBitches ain't sitting with us, all my niggas in Margielas, oh\nIs pigs flying? Is these bitches trying me?\nThey think it's sweet? Oh-oh-oh-oh, these bitches got diabetes\nYou seen that list? It was me, Baby, Jay-Z, and Diddy\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nWant-want-want some more, want some more\nEven though a nigga been getting to it\nWant-want-want some more\n(Still, want some more) Want some more, want some more\nEvery time I end up getting it\nWant-want-want-want some more\nWhen they start talking crazy\nThat's when I know that they want some more\nI know that I'm getting it, but fuck it\n'Cause I want some more\nWhe-whe-when they start talking crazy\nThat's when I know that they want some more\nEvery time I end up getting it\nWant-want-want-want some more\n\nYo, yo, I'm in this bitch, I'm high-saditty\nI popped a Perc and I said, \u201cThank you\u201d\nI'm popping tags every day, it look like my b-day\nThese bitches suck, so I nickname these bitches \u201cBJ\u201d\nThey want that union, they want that D-Wade\nI tell a ho just be happy they getting leeway\nMy name Barbie, bitch (My name)\nMy name Barbie, bitch\nAlexander made me Queen, I'm pulling up with the King\nI'm late to my own party, bitch\nWant it, I get it, I don't be wanting for nothing\nI mean, I do what I do and it must be counting for something\nI don't be jumping from topic to topic, stay in my pocket\nI got your rent in my pocket, so can I pay you to pop it?\nCash Money, getting six albums, no bitch niggas on a bitch album\nYou niggas apologize when a nigga diss you? That's a big problem\nWant-want-want some more, want some more\nEven though a nigga been getting to it\nWant-want-want some more\n(Still, want some more) Want some more, want some more\nEvery time I end up getting it\nWant-want-want-want some more\nWhen they start talking crazy\nThat's when I know that they want some more\nI know that I'm getting it, but fuck it\n'Cause I want some more\nWhe-whe-when they start talking crazy\nThat's when I know that they want some more\nEvery time I end up getting it\nWant-want-want-want some more"}
{"text":"94 ContributorsI\u2019m Legit Lyrics\nI\u2019m the shit with no makeup, don\u2019t have to curl my hair up\nAll this booty here mine, I\u2019m a dollar worth a dime\nReal bosses stand up, ladies throw your hands up and say\n\u201cI know I\u2019m cute, I know I\u2019m fly\nYou ask me why? 'Cause I\u2019m the shit!\u201d\nWith no makeup, don\u2019t have to curl my hair up\nAll this booty here mine, I\u2019m a dollar worth a dime\nReal bosses stand up, ladies throw your hands up and say\n\u201cI know I\u2019m cute, I know I\u2019m fly\nYou ask me why? 'Cause I\u2019m the shit!\u201d\n\nBeat em' like they stole some, beat em' like they stole some\nAll this booty here got 'em dreaming, lemme hold some\nLet me, let me hear that boy, let me, let me wear that boy\nLet me get the most expensive car, and let me steer that boy\nReal big pretty titty, shut down every city\nIf you want the kid kitty, gotta get the key from me\nAll new everything, plus pay the rent for me\nIf we in the wilderness, niggas pitch the tent for me\nTent for me, tent for me, get me bodied\nLong hair, no makeup, doing pilates\nThose niggas don't step on my damn Zanottis\nAll them bitches my sons but who's the Daddy?\nI graduate with honors, I ball, 'Nead O'Connor\nI did a freestyle, then I got a shout out from Obama\nYes, yes, I am ill, I go in for the kill\nHoes is my sons, birth control, I am on the pill\nWhat I gotta do? What I gotta do to 'em?\nStep up in the club, everybody like who them?\nGirls girls, me and my girls\nWhat you done did? I need some referrals\nMotherfuckers know I\u2019m the shit, legit\nAnd if a motherfucker don\u2019t, he can suck my dick\nI tell 'em, \"Everybody else is my opposite!\"\nI put 'em on the game, give 'em five percent\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI\u2019m the shit with no makeup, don\u2019t have to curl my hair up\nAll this booty here mine, I\u2019m a dollar worth a dime\nReal bosses stand up, ladies throw your hands up and say\n\u201cI know I\u2019m cute, I know I\u2019m fly\nYou ask me why? 'Cause I\u2019m the shit!\u201d\nWith no makeup, don\u2019t have to curl my hair up\nAll this booty here mine, I\u2019m a dollar worth a dime\nReal bosses stand up, ladies throw your hands up and say\n\u201cI know I\u2019m cute, I know I\u2019m fly\nYou ask me why? 'Cause I\u2019m the shit!\u201d\n\nI\u2019m like really famous, I got a famous anus\nNo, not Famous Amos, all this fame is heinous\nLemme, lemme hear that boy, lemme, lemme wear that boy\nAll this money coming in, but I never share that, boy\nNo lipstick, no lashes though\nBut I got a real big ol' ratchet, though\nI said dude, yo dude, you packing dough\nHe said he want a good box like Pacquiao\nI said, \"Well, my name Nicki and it\u2019s nice to meet you\"\nIf you really wanna know, I\u2019ll give you my procedure\nGot a whole bunch of pretty gang in my clique\nAnd we lookin' for some ballers, alopecia\nI hate wack niggas, I should really slap niggas\nThese niggas trippin' when I put 'em on the map niggas\nHow you gon' break that? How you gon' fake that?\nAin't at no wedding but all my girls cake pop\nSleeping on me, no mattress though\nI'm a burn the beat down, no matches though\nNo, they can\u2019t keep up? They molasses slow\nI'm the greatest Queens bitch, with the cashes flow\nLooking, looking at me like it\u2019s my fault\nTrying to take sneak pictures with they iPhone\nI like independent bitches like July 4th\nNow that\u2019s what young Harriet died for\nI\u2019m the shit with no makeup, don\u2019t have to curl my hair up\nAll this booty here mine, I\u2019m a dollar worth a dime\nReal bosses stand up, ladies throw your hands up and say\n\u201cI know I\u2019m cute, I know I\u2019m fly\nYou ask me why? 'Cause I\u2019m the shit!\u201d\nWith no makeup, don\u2019t have to curl my hair up\nAll this booty here mine, I\u2019m a dollar worth a dime\nReal bosses stand up, ladies throw your hands up and say\n\u201cI know I\u2019m cute, I know I\u2019m fly\nYou ask me why? 'Cause I\u2019m the shit!\u201d"}
{"text":"Don't ever fuckin' play with me\nY'all niggas know, y'all bitches know I'm the fucking queen\nYou\u2005ho\u2005bitches know, you\u2005dirty bum bitches know (Grrr)\nPooh, you\u2005a fool for this one\nDrop the strings on 'em\n\nWoke up, the price of coke up (Woo, woo)\nI just hit 'em with the low cut, then call my folks up (Folks)\nSomebody 'bout to get poked up, go call a tow truck (Tow)\nAll that talkin' out your neck, might just get your throat cut (Ooh, ooh)\nThis a Makk truck, not a black truck (Woo)\nWhen we move, tell \u2018em, \"Back up,\" click click, clack, duck\nHella bands, pull up, stashed up, super facts up\nAll you bitches Rosa Parks, uh-oh, get your ass up, uh\nYikes, I play tag and you it for life (Woo, life)\nYikes (Yikes), you a clown, you do it for likes\nYikes (Yikes), yes, it's tight, but it doesn't bite\nGrip it right, he be like (Woo)\nYikes, what's the hype? This is something light (Light, light, woo)\nYikes, outta town on consistent flights\nYikes, work hard, this a different white (White)\nGet your life, you bitches ain't livin' right (Woo)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nYeah (Sheesh, go), I keep two nines, yeah (Sheesh)\nYou see my face all over that Fendi design, yeah\nSoon as niggas press you, boy, you throw up peace signs, yeah\nYou don't want that action, pull your cards, you decline, yeah\nUh (Woo, woo), I keep two dimes, yeah (Woo, woo)\nWalk up to a bad bitch, be like, \"I think you fine,\" yeah\nI don't play with demons, Satan, get thee behind, yeah\n'Bout to get fucked up on margarita with two limes, yeah\nOoh, I've been the same, ain't shit changed, this ain't nothin' new (Woo)\nThat pretty frame, diamond chain, what the fuck it do?\nYo, clear the way, it's some bad bitches comin' through (Sheesh)\nI give two F's like the letters that are on my shoe\nYikes, I play tag and you it for life (Woo, life)\nYikes (Yikes), you a clown, you do it for likes\nYikes (Yikes), yes, it's tight, but it doesn't bite\nGrip it right, he be like (Woo)\nYikes, what's the hype? This is something light (Light, light, woo)\nYikes, outta town on consistent flights\nYikes, work hard, this a different white (White)\nGet your life, you bitches ain't livin' right (Ooh)\n\nBag talk\nBut ain't got no mouth when money bag talk, hmm\nIt's quiet, ain't no back talk (Grrr)\nQuiet, ain't no back talk"}
{"text":"Bust down, Barbiana, bust down, Barbiana\nBust down and pick that shit up\nBust down and pick that shit up\nBust it open and pick that shit up\nBust it open and pick that shit up\n\nUh, ayo, I been a bad bitch, cockiana (Cockiana)\nAnd I'm still winnin', Pacquiana (Pacquiana)\nPercocets, popiana, killin' everybody beat\nThank you, next, Ariana (Ariana)\nYou gon' have to give me topiana (Topiana)\nIf you tryna get some sloppiana (Sloppiana)\nI call my opps Oppiana (Oppiana)\nThen shut down Yves Saint, Lauriana (Lauriana)\nI don't want you on my page, blockiana (Blockiana)\nFlow tailor made, like Teyana (Like Teyana)\nThey copyin' my style, copiana\nRoger that, over, copiana\nBenihana to Katana, bitch, I been a Donna\nHe screamin' my government: O-Onika Tanya\nYou look like Nicki now, still you tacky-ana\nTo keep it 100, bitch you wacky-ana\nIn the hood like Kiana, or a Tatiana\nImmigrant from Trinidad, rep Americana\nI'm 'bout to shut it down at Met Galiana\nYou peanut head bitches is always jellyana\nI'm 'bout to get a ring in my bellyana\nTattoo my man name, then give him some beckiana (Beckiana)\n85, comma, plus three zeros (Three zeros)\nPlus another comma plus three zeros (Three zeros)\nThen add a dot (Dot)\nBop a dot dot, bop a dot dot doh\nBeen at the top\nBefore this song came out, bitch you been a thot (Been a thot)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nBust down, Barbiana, bust down, Barbiana (Barbiana)\nThen back that shit up (That shit up)\nOn the gang, then back that shit up (That shit up)\nOn the mags, then back that shit up (That shit up)\nBust down, Barbiana, bust down (Bust down)\nThen pick that shit up (That shit up)\nOn the gang, Barbiana (Barbiana)\nBust down, bust down, Barbiana (Barbiana)\n\nUh\nBust down and pick that shit up\nBust down and pick that shit up\nBust it open and pick that shit up\nBust it open and pick that shit up"}
{"text":"Fall off in the spot\nWait up, they gon' do it while you drop\nMetro!\nPull up with no top\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you\n\nFall off in the spot, every girl comin' like a shark\nAnd you know my necklace, sittin' on ski resort\nFall off in the spot, every girl comin' like a shark\nPut that thing in park, I'ma let my fin pick you apart\nGlowin' in the dark, fifty some' girls on board\nRunnin' with the marksmen, everything on point like, \"En garde!\"\n\nYo, I'm me, I'm Barbie drippin'\nDB9, Barbie whippin'\nIf he say he don't want me back, he be lyin'\nBitch, I'm the sauce, Barbie dippin', I'm the boss, Barbie sippin'\nThey keep tellin' me work it, I ain't got no chores\nI'm all yours, Barbie kissin', call the stores, Barbie shippin'\nOut or indoors, baby, I'ma floss\nWhat? Why of course, Barbie tippin', I endorse, Barbie strippin'\nMink carpet, but I ain't got no flaws\nDoors look like wings, Barbie sittin', bada-bing, Barbie trippin'\nCurve niggas like they arm in a sling\nHopped off the swing, Barbie swingin', to the ring, Barbie blingin'\nGood box, so he called Don King\nWho the fuck gon' party with them dollies? No, I never do the mollies\nIf I hit you, then you probably gon' sue\nWho the fuck gon' come through with the body, always lookin' like a hottie\nAlways sayin' what somebody won't do?\nWho the fuck gon\u2019 pull up in your city, lookin' every bit of pretty\nWith the itty bitty titty bitch crew?\nWho the fuck gon' beat him with the .22 if he don't lose the attitude\nAnd run off with his credit cards, too?\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nFall off in the spot, every girl comin' like a shark\nAnd you know my necklace, sittin' on ski resort\nFall off in the spot, every girl comin' like a shark\nPut that thing in park, I'ma let my fin pick you apart\nGlowin' in the dark, fifty some' girls on board\nRunnin' with the marksmen, everything on point like, \"En garde!\"\n\nThousand dollar massage\nI don't ever miss my mark\nAnything I like goes in the cart\nI might spend it all to prove a point\nRollin' west coast, Arnold Schwarz'\nIf she lick her lips then I'ma join\nIndo I'ma spark\nWhen I cash out, that's her favorite part\n\nThey delivered my Lambo, all white with a tan bow\nMy body's a work of art, he eatin' this Van Gogh\nI'm not in the bando, I'm Pablo Sandals\nWhite beaches, candles, we sexin', Anglo\nWh-wh-what you think all these niggas wanna cuff for?\nA lot of Bloods, what you think they in the cut for?\nYeah, it's a sweep, I ain't talkin' when the dust fall\nMy winnin' streak still hasn't peaked, you little dust ball\nBitch, I'm a star-ar, me and Swae Lee, yah, yah\nG-4s, 5s, Chun-way on the runway, yah, yah\nRiccardo Tisci in Milan, you see me modelin', ah\nDinner with Kar-ar, dinner with Karl Lagerfeld, yah\nYeah, this that Steven Klein, Mert & Marcus, yah, yah\nYeah, just to take a picture, I go raise the bar far\nI'm bitchy, yah, yah, really bitchy, ah, ah\nAmerica's Next Top Model, call me Yaya\nE-every time I score she gon' hear them swishes, ah\nTell that bitch I'm in the league, she still play for Wichita\nI piss hits broad, call me the swish God\nThe swish, swish God? Yup, the swish God\nFall off in the spot, every girl comin' like a shark\nAnd you know my necklace, sittin' on ski resort\nFall off in the spot, every girl comin' like a shark\nPut that thing in park, I'ma let my fin pick you apart\nGlowin' in the dark, fifty some' girls on board\nRunnin' with the marksmen, everything on point like, \"En garde!\"\n\nMhm, shout-out Giovanni\nFor doing that \"Barbie Tingz\" video, uh-huh\nNina Garcia, Stephen Gan, Elle mag, yuh, uh-huh\nI'm still on my Naomi shit\nWilhelmina Models tip\nWeezy, Mack, Baby, Slim\nGee, I see you, Jean, Tezz, El, Shawn Gee\nMonte, Avery, Roppo, Joe, Katina, Mike, Dave, Gary, Josh\nUh, Brett, Sheika, Kim, Grizz, Hillary, Khlo\u00e9, Biggz\nJuice, I see you Juice, keep me rollin' Juice\nYou're in the middle of Queen right now, thinkin'\n\"I see why she called this shit Queen\nThis bitch is really the fuckin' queen\u2014ahh!\"\nAhahahaaah! Rrrrr!\nI love my fans, I love you so much"}
{"text":"81 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easFly Lyrics\nI came to win, to fight\nTo conquer, to thrive\nI came to win (J.R.), to survive\nTo prosper, to rise\nTo fly\nTo fly\n\nUh, yo, yo\nI wish today it would rain all day\nMaybe that'd kinda make the pain go away\nTryna forgive you for abandoning me\nPrayin', but I think I'm still an angel away\nAngel away, yeah, it's strange in a way\nMaybe that is why I chase strangers away\nThey got they guns out aimin' at me\nBut I become Neo when they aimin' at me\nMe, me, me against them\nMe against enemies, me against friends\nSomehow, they both seem to become one\nA sea full of sharks and they all smell blood\nThey start comin' and I start risin'\nMust be surprisin', I'm just surmisin'\nI win, thrive, soar, higher\nHigher, higher, more fire\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI came to win, to fight\nTo conquer, to thrive\nI came to win, to survive\nTo prosper, to rise\nTo fly\nTo fly\n\nUh, yo, yo\nEverybody wanna try to box me in\nSuffocatin' every time it locks me in\nPaintin' they own pictures, then they crop me in\nBut I will remain where the top begins\n'Cause I am not a word, I am not a line\nI am not a girl that could ever be defined\nI am not fly, I am levitation\nI represent an entire generation\nI hear the criticism loud and clear\nThat is how I know that the time is near\nSee we become alive in the time of fear\nAnd I ain't got no motherfuckin' time to spare\nCry my eyes out for days upon days\nSuch a heavy burden placed upon me\nBut when you go hard, your nays become yays\nYankee stadium with Jays and Kanyes\nI came to win, to fight\nTo conquer, to thrive\nI came to win, to survive\nTo prosper, to rise\nTo fly\nTo fly\n\nGet ready for it\nGet ready for it\nGet ready for it\nI came to win\nGet ready for it\nGet ready for it\nGet ready for it\n\nI came to win, to fight\nTo conquer, to thrive\nI came to win, to survive\nTo prosper, to rise\nTo fly\nTo fly"}
{"text":"I just took her name and made that bitch a LLC\nStuff a couple stacks up in there, bitch, get on your feet\nYou'd make twice as much if you switch it up, just to see\nTo you, he's rich and famous, but he's just a guy to me\nI feel like I'm King Kong, name still going ding-dong\nIt's two girls gettin' more money, and they don't rap, they sing songs\nI stay with that pink on, pink furs and them pink thongs\nGoons out if they blink wrong, think hard, but don't think long\nPink Friday had Eminem, spit hard but I'm feminine\nIconic trio on Monster, Goblins and Gremlins\nWhat's left that I didn't do? You bit the forbidden fruit\nYou thought you'd get my spot? Who the fuck was kiddin' you?\nTook a lil' break, but I'm back to me\nTryna make a new Nicki, where the factory?\nThey'll never toe to toe on a track with me\nThere'll never be another one after me\n'Cause the skill level still just a half of me\nBlasphemy, my niggas will blast for me\nAll these low IQ hoes baffle me\nTell 'em that I wash bitches take a bath for me\nBunch of trophies in my crib like a athlete\nI see them giving fake love but that trash is weak\nMan, you know that I ripped, every rapper beat\nYou know Nicki gon' eat, Bon App\u00e9tit\nUsed to get real hype off a half a mil'\nUsed to get real high off a half a pill\nWe don't pay niggas to front like they like my shit\nWe don't pay niggas to come in and write my shit, uh\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nNow carry on, now carry on\nNow carry on, now carry on\nSwish, swish, I'm just gettin' my Curry on\nG6 flow, all Louis V carry-ons\n\nI just took her name and made that bitch a LLC\nStuff a couple stacks up in there, bitch, get on your feet\nYou'd make twice as much if you switch it up, just to see\nTo you, he's rich and famous, but he's just a guy to me\n\nYou made me, you made me, yeah\nYou made me, you made me, yeah, yeah\nOn blood, you made me, you made me, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYou made me (Okay), you made me (Haha, uh)\n\nYo, you made me do it, hoe, I told you, get low (Told you get low)\nI'm popping tens, but they gotta be yellow\nI'm New York Nick, I'm ballin', where Carmelo? (O.K. 'Melo)\nI'm wavy, word to Shawty L-O, hello\nHow your jacket say Porsche and you never rode a Porsche?\nHow you supposed to make the quota when you never went North?\nHow the fuck you got Ferraris when you never went sport?\nAll that hoopin' and hollerin', still ain't scorin' on the court (Rrrr)\nYou made me, you made me, yeah\nYou made me, you made me, yeah, yeah\nOn blood, you made me, you made me, yeah, yeah\nYou made me (Okay), you made me (Haha)\n\nAyy yo, look at what they made me do, they made me do\nSwitched the foreign on 'em, navy blue to baby blue\nLook at how they started pussy poppin' when 80 flew\nAll my niggas move that Britney, Ari, yeah, Katy, too\nNiggas gassed on the really though, gas I pumped them\nStraight trash on the really, yo, yes, I dumped him\nPush the limits, I'm a pushy bitch, yes, I bumped him\nPushed past being filthy rich, ask I trumped them\n'Cause I scare her, scare her, my biggest era, era\nNever been clearer, clearer, don't force it, Farrah, Farrah\nBecause you'll never be me, that's word to Bella, Gigi\nDolce Gabbana, DG, pretty gang rated PG (Woah)\n\nNow carry on, now carry on\nNow carry on, now carry on\nSwish, swish, I'm just gettin' my Curry on\nG6 flow, all Louis V carry-ons\nI just took her name and made that bitch a LLC\nStuff a couple stacks up in there, bitch, get on your feet\nYou'd make twice as much if you switch it up, just to see\nTo you, he's rich and famous, but he's just a guy to me (guy to me)\n\nOn blood, you made me, you made me\nYou made me, you made me, yeah, yeah\nOn blood, you made me, you made me, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYou made me (Okay), you made me (Haha)"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsTranslationsDeutschThe Crying Game Lyrics\nHere we go again, it's the game we love\nSheets all over the floor and they laced with drugs\nYou ain't play your cards right, you had the Ace of Clubs\nHit you with the Ace of Spade in your face and shrugged\nBlood drippin' out your arm on my Asian rugs\nWe was just plannin' a wedding, Caucasian doves\nYou was just tellin' your mans that you hate the clubs\nNow we in the crying game, heart laced with slugs\n\nAre you alone? Do you need someone?\nIs it too late to talk? Did I wait too long?\nThousand words don't change a thing\nIs it only three, three words that you're missing?\n\nWhere'd you go? Couldn't see, I was too busy\nCould've just said no, where would you go? I think I know\nOh-oh, oh-oh\nWe're back to playing, we're back to playing\nOh-oh, oh-oh\nWe're back to playing the crying game\n\nI could've given everything\nDon't wanna let the tears begin\nWe're back to playing the crying game\nI could've given everything\nDon't wanna let the tears begin\nWe're back to playing the crying game\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nWelcome to the crying game, where you lose your soul\nWhere it ain't no E-Z Pass, you gotta use the toll\nAin't no cruise control, you 'bout to lose control\nAin't no smilin' faces here, we slammin' doors and dishes\nSayin' we don't miss each other, but it's all fictitious\nSayin' that we had enough, but enough of what?\nAnother slap to the face, another uppercut\nI'm just abusive by nature, not 'cause I hate ya\nNot 'cause I wanna get someone to imitate ya\nI know it's hard, I know I intimidate ya\nBut is you stayin' or goin'?\nI couldn't breathe and you ain't even know it\nHow come you never show it? All this love you speak of\nAll I want is to love and be loved (To love and be loved)\n\nI'm losin' a thing I thought I'd win\nAnd I'm comin' undone\n'Cause the tears don't end\n\nWhere'd you go? Couldn't see, I was too busy\nCould've just said no, where would you go? I think I know\nOh-oh, oh-oh\nWe're back to playing, we're back to playing\nOh-oh, oh-oh\nWe're back to playing the crying game\nI could've given everything (Everything)\nDon't wanna let the tears begin (Everything)\nWe're back to playing the crying game\nI could've given everything\nDon't wanna let the tears begin\nWe're back to playing the crying game\n\nOh-oh, oh-oh\nOh-oh, oh-oh"}
{"text":"Full blown, run rich, Brinx\nYo, Mula, yo, yeah\nAyo\n\nI know what these niggas like, and it ain't my charm\nI ain't stupid, this $250 on my arm\nI like money more than dick, nigga, that's a fact\nYou think pussy's everything? Well, let's have a chat\nA-a-ass out, pussy fat, point me to a rich nigga\nWho gon' Rico, Ace me, pay in full my money, Mitch nigga?\nI'ma help him fuck the check up, I'ma run the business\nIf your girl don't get it poppin', put me on your wishlist\nHitlist, now he sendin' gifts like if it's Christmas\nHe said, \"Baby, everyday we ballin',\" I say, \"Swish, swish\"\nGot him callin' nonstop 'cause he don't wanna miss this\nI said, \"Don't panic, keep the faith, nigga, B.I.G.'s bitch\"\n(Real rich nigga sex)\n\nIf you know your pussy worth a Benz truck (Rich sex)\nDon't let homie fuck unless his bands up (Rich sex)\nGo to DR, get that fat transfer (Rich sex)\nIt ain't such a thing as broke and handsome (Ri-Rich sex)\nIf you let that broke nigga fuck, we tellin' (Rich sex)\nIf you let that broke nigga fuck, we tellin' (Rich sex)\nIf you let that broke nigga fuck, we tellin' (Rich sex)\nIf you let that broke nigga fuck, we tellin' (Rich sex)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nLil mama said she only fuckin' on a rich dick\nI cum in her face and tell her, \"Now you lookin' rich, bitch\"\nHer friend in the other room, can I get a witness?\nWe could have some rich sex, cannot have no rich kids\nFacts, all my bitches have no limits\nFucked her in a helicopter, now she screamin', \"Sky's the limit\"\nFuck her in a drop top, now she screamin', \"Sky's the limit\"\nSent her back to who she with, now she screamin', \"Why I'm with him?\"\nDamn, lil mama said she only suckin' on a rich dick\nMake you put your money where your mouth at, that's some lipstick\nLet's fuck on the money 'fore we count that, that's some rich shit\nPussy smell like money when I'm down there, that some Nic shit\n(Real rich nigga sex)\n\nIf you know your pussy worth a Benz truck (Rich sex)\nDon't let homie fuck unless his bands up (Rich sex)\nGo to DR, get that fat transfer (Rich sex)\nIt ain't such a thing as broke and handsome (Ri-Rich sex)\nIf you let that broke nigga fuck, we tellin' (Rich sex)\nIf you let that broke nigga fuck, we tellin' (Rich sex)\nIf you let that broke nigga fuck, we tellin' (Rich sex)\nIf you let that broke nigga fuck, we tellin' (Rich sex)\n\nRich who? Got bricks, too\nThe rich get richer, that's my ritual\nRich crew, link my bitch, too\nMack took the Wraith, me and Tune flew\nI don't even know where we going these days, where we landing\nQueen, where we going again?\nTo the moon, Alice, the goon palace\nWe don't get fly, we take flight, haha\nWoo! Haha, ahh-haha, ahh!\nYou mad, doggie? You mad, doggie? Haha\n(Next stop: New York)\nHahaha, rrrrr!"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsBed of Lies Lyrics\nOh-oh-oh, yeah\n\nDo you ever think of me when you lie? (When you lie)\nLie down in your bed, your bed of lies\nAnd I knew better than to look in your eyes (In your eyes)\nThey only pretend you would be mine\nAnd, oh, how you made me believe (Oh)\nYou had me caught in every web that you weaved\nBut do you ever think of me when you lie? (When you lie)\nLie down in your bed, your bed of lies\n\nYou could never make eye contact\nEverything you got was based off of my contacts\nYou a fraud but I'ma remain icon-stat\nBalenciagas on my boots with a python strap\nYou was caught up in the rush and you was caught up in the thrill of it\nYou was with me way before I hit a quarter mil' in it\nPut you in the crib and you ain't never pay a bill in it\nI was killin' it, now you got me poppin' pills in it\nI told Baby hit you, I said, \"This nigga buggin'\"\n'Cause I was doin' it for us, I told 'em fuck the public\nCouldn't believe that I was home alone, contemplatin' overdosin'\nNo more coastin', no more toastin' over oceans\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nThey say you don't know what you got 'til it's gone\nThey say that your darkest hour come before your dawn\nBut there was something that I shoulda asked all along\nI'ma ask on the song\n\nDo you ever think of me when you lie? (When you lie)\nLie down in your bed, your bed of lies\nAnd I knew better than to look in your eyes (In your eyes)\nThey only pretend you would be mine\nAnd, oh, how you made me believe (Oh)\nYou had me caught in every web that you weaved\nBut do you ever think of me when you lie? (When you lie)\nLie down in your bed, your bed of lies\n\nI just figured if you saw me, if you looked in my eyes\nYou'd remember our connection and be freed from the lies\nI just figured I was something that you couldn't replace\nBut there was just a blank stare and I couldn't relate\nI just couldn't understand and I couldn't defend\nWhat we had, what we shared, and I couldn't pretend\nWhen the tears rolled down, it's like you ain't even notice 'em\nIf you had a heart, I was hopin' that you would show it some\nWhat the fuck you really tellin' me? What you tellin' me?\nI could tell you lyin', get the fuck out, don't yell at me\nI ain't mean to cut you, I ain't wanna catch a felony\nThis ain't How To Be A Player, you ain't Bill Bellamy\nThey say you don't know what you got 'til it's gone\nThey say that your darkest hour come before your dawn\nBut there was something that I shoulda asked all along\nI'ma ask on the song\nSo does she know I've been in that bed before? (Bed before)\nA thousand count and not a single thread of truth\nIf I was just another girl (Just another girl)\nThen I'm ashamed to say that I'm not over you\nThere's one thing I need to know\nSo call me when you're not so busy\nJust thinkin' of yourself (Thinkin' of yourself)\n\nDo you ever think of me when you lie? (When you lie)\nLie down in your bed, your bed of lies (Bed)\nAnd I knew better than to look in your eyes (In your eyes)\nThey only pretend you would be mine\nAnd, oh, how you made me believe (Oh)\nYou had me caught in every web that you weaved\nBut do you ever think of me when you lie? (When you lie)\nLie down in your bed, your bed of lies"}
{"text":"Work hard, just to get half back\nUsed to work hard, just to get half back\nNow I'm gettin' to it that way (Straight up, straight up)\nI ain't coming through unless the bag straight\nI used to work hard just to get half back\nUsed to work hard, just to get half back\n\nAyo, just last week I told 'em to pick a side\nI bust shots, don't duck if it don't apply\nBae out in Paris, he told me to pick a ride\nSike, made you look, I still didn't pick a guy\nI'm the trophy of the game, everybody tryna win me\nMe, Olivier, Jourdan Dunn, my baby, Winnie\nPartying in Paris, these bitches is embarrassed\n'Cause they know I'm the queen, I still didn't pick an heiress\nMirror, mirror, who's the fairest?\nYou the motherfucking fairest, Nicki\nWhat I drop on this watch?\nI don't know, about a hundred-fifty\nI'm who they wishin' to be\nThese hoes is on the 'Gram, Nicki pitchin' a ki'\n'Bout to cop Neverland, Michael up in the tree\nYou got bars and still broke? You might as well took a plea, uh\nBe in the bando or would you rather move weight, Don Pablo? Uh\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nWork hard, just to get half back\nUsed to work hard, just to get half back\nNow I'm gettin' to it that way (Straight up, straight up)\nI ain't coming through unless the bag straight\nI used to work hard just to get half back\nUsed to work hard, just to get half back\n\nAyo, just last week I told 'em they run done\nMy legacy could never be undone\nI'm a prodigy, R.I.P Thun-Thun\nGot these bitches shook, they shocked, no stun-gun\nI'm the billy, billy goat, the GOAT, the GOAT's here\nVintage Herm\u00e8s by Jean Paul Gaultier\nLagerfeld customize my gold chair\nI run the point, you bitches just go cheer\nUh, look at my knockoffs, I told 'em knock it off\nAnything that Nicki do, you know they knock it off\nPut my crown on again, and I'ma knock it off\nAnything with Nicki in it, they gon' pocket off\nI mean profit off, my plug drop it off\nYou see them copyin' my hair, tell 'em, \"Chop it off\"\nUh, bad gyal whip, the top is off\nYou nuh see him downgrade when mi drop 'em off\nUh, I ain't never play the ho position\nI ain't ever have to strip to get the pole position\nHoes is dissin'? Okay, these hoes is wishin'\nYou're in no position to come for O's position\nI ain't movin' weight, but I'm in the dope position\nI ain't movin' weight, but I'm in the dope position\nWork hard, just to get half back\nUsed to work hard, just to get half back\nNow I'm gettin' to it that way (Straight up, straight up)\nI ain't coming through unless the bag straight\nI used to work hard just to get half back\nUsed to work hard, just to get half back\n\nW-w-w-w-w-work hard\nW-w-w-w-w-work hard\nJ-j-just last week, I told 'em to pick a side\nI-I-I bust shots, don't duck if they don't apply"}
{"text":"81 ContributorsGet On Your Knees Lyrics\nMmmh\nRrrrrr!\n\nGet on your knees, get on your knees, get on your knees\nBaby, just get on your knees (On your knees)\nSay pretty please, say pretty please, say pretty please\nBaby, just say pretty please (Pretty please)\n\nYo, I'll be back at eleven\nYou just act like a peasant\nGot-got a bow on my panties\nBecause my ass is a present\nYeah-yeah, it's gooder than Meagan\nYou look good when you're beggin'\nI-I be laughing when you beggin' me\nTo just put the head in\nL-let me sit on your face\nIt's ok, you can play with it\nWhen I'm bouncin' it, chill out\nAnd don't you make a mistake with it\nL-let me see what you're workin' with\nIf I'm ridin', I'm murkin' it\nSlow grindin', I'm twerkin' it, yeah\nI bagged him, I Birkin'd it\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI don't need a dozen roses\nYou ain't gotta wine and dine me, no\nI don't need a pretty poet\nOoh, gettin' all emotional\nYou gotta beg for it, beg for it\nI wanna see you lookin' up\nBaby, I'ma need you to beg\nBeg, beg for it\n\nGet on your knees, get on your knees, get on your knees\nBaby, just get on your knees (On your knees)\nSay pretty please, say pretty please, say pretty please\nBaby, just say pretty please (Pretty please)\n\nG-g-g-g-gimme brain\nAssume the position\nMake-make-make me way smarter\nLike you was a magician\nPaid my dues and tuition\nIt's good for your nutrition\nGet head like a beautician\nGot me twitchin', finish your mission (Finish your mission)\nYou make it come down\nY-y-y-you make it run down\nI'ma need you to give these other dudes the rundown\nYou got that legendary\nThis shit is fake, scary\nGot me seein' them fireworks, I'm on my Kate Perry\n(Ah) I don't need a dozen roses\nYou ain't gotta wine and dine me, no\nI don't need a pretty poet\nOoh, gettin' all emotional\nYou gotta beg for it, beg for it\nI wanna see you lookin' up\nBaby, I'ma need you to beg (I'ma need you to beg)\nBeg, beg for it (Let's go)\n\n'Cause we are just animals (Animals)\nBaby, it's primal (It's primal)\nI want you on all fours (All fours)\nAnd before I let you walk\nYou gotta show me how you crawl\nIf you want it all (Yeah, you want it all?)\nIt's non-negotiable\nSo do as I say (I say)\nIf you wanna get the job\nYou better know who's the boss (Yeah)\n\nI don't need a dozen roses\nYou ain't gotta wine and dine me, no\nI don't need a pretty poet\nOoh, gettin' all emotional\nYou gotta beg for it, beg for it (Beg for it)\nI wanna see you lookin' up (Lookin' up)\nBaby, I'ma need you to beg\nBeg, beg for it\nGet on your knees, get on your knees, get on your knees\nBaby, just get on your knees (On your knees)\nSay pretty please, say pretty please, say pretty please\nBaby, just say pretty please (Pretty please)"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsMEGATRON Lyrics\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\n\nThey call me Megatron, just did a telethon\nHe got Margielas on, and I get my jealous on\nI fuck him like I miss him, he just came out of prison\nBitches be talkin' shit, but they ain't got a pot to piss in\nMy name is Nicki M, I'm in a sticky Benz\nThat mean it's candy apple red, I'm Barbie, this is Ken\nThat is a Fendi fact, I'm with a hunnid macs\nOh, this is custom made, Donatella sent me that\n\nFeel up, baby, feel on me\nPull up if you're feeling lonely\nFeel up, baby, feel on me\nPull up if you're feeling lonely\n\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nShots, shots, shots, I'm drinkin'\nIt's better when I'm drinkin'\nI tune up when I'm drinkin'\nRum, rum when I'm-\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nShots, shots, shots, I'm drinkin'\nIt's better when I'm drinkin'\nI tune up when I'm drinkin'\nRum, rum when I'm-\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\n\nThey call me Megatron, shorty's a mega con\nIt ain't about the race either, it's the marathon\nI put the squeeze on him, th-throw up the Bs on him\nTh-that ass clappin' on the D, Hercules on him\nMy name is baddie, baddie, I keep it tight for zaddy\nHe keep it comin', comin', he ain't even drop the Addy\nTrunk in the front-front, I need a blunt-blunt\nI own my own moscato, bitch, we gettin' drunk-drunk\n\nFeel up, baby, feel on me\nPull up if you're feeling lonely\nFeel up, baby, feel on me\nPull up if you're feeling lonely\n\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nShots, shots, shots, I'm drinkin'\nIt's better when I'm drinkin'\nI tune up when I'm drinkin'\nRum, rum when I'm-\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nShots, shots, shots, I'm drinkin'\nIt's better when I'm drinkin'\nI tune up when I'm drinkin'\nRum, rum when I'm-\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\n\nBite me, bite me, that excite me\nHe said it's my pussy (Yup, it might be)\nIf you eatin' it, do it precisely\n'Cause I'm a millionaire, this pussy pricey\n(Yup, it might be, yup, it might be)\nHe said it's my pussy (Yup, it might be)\nM-my pussy, m-my pussy (Yup, it might be)\n'Cause I'm a millionaire, this pussy pricey\n\nFeel up, baby, feel on me\nPull up if you're feeling lonely\nFeel up, baby, feel on me\nPull up if you're feeling lonely\n\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nShots, shots, shots, I'm drinkin'\nIt's better when I'm drinkin'\nI tune up when I'm drinkin'\nRum, rum when I'm-\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nShots, shots, shots, I'm\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nShots, shots, shots, I'm\nBrra-ta-ta-ta\nShots, shots, shots, I'm drinkin'\nRum, rum when I'm-"}
{"text":"Queen\n\nOnly on them C's if it's breeze, Red Ruby Da Sleeze  (Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nChinese on my sleeve, these wannabe Chun-Lis\nAnyway, \u4f60\u597d (\u4f60\u597d, uh-oh)\nWho the fuck told bitches they was me now? (Uh-oh, ooh)\nI knew these bitches was slow, I ain't know these bitches senile (Ooh)\nMarried a shooter case you niggas tried to breathe loud (Brr-brr)\nBoom your face off, then I tell him, \"Cease fire\"\nI'm the A, B side\nSeven-hundred on them horses when we fixin' to leave (Uh-oh)\nBut I don't fuck with horses since Christopher Reeves (Uh-oh)\n(Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nGotta be careful when I dip, it's flips all in the whip\nIt's 40s with 30 clips, FN's with the switch\nGuacamole with the taco, waitin' on El Chapo\nCame in the Rolls and left low in a Tahoe\n\nBad gyal don't die-die-die (Brr)\nHundred rounds on that grrah-ta-ta\nReal one lick a shot-ta-ta\nShe my lil' vibe, my lil' ah-ah-ah\nBad gyal don't run from nobody, like ah\nRude boy want me touchin' on his body, like yah\nBoy affi dead if he ever diss me\nAnd he know what to do if he ever miss me\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nMiss me with that na-na-na-na-na-na-na\nI stay with my na-na-na-na-na-na-na\nHis ex hit him, he like, \"Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah-nah\"\nHe want the bad gyal sleeze like that\nWhy I'm a tease like that?\nIll, na-na-na-na-na-na-na\nHe told me bring him that na-na-na-na-na-na-na\nWe don't be Karen like Donna-na-na-na-na-na\nI like it when he grab my cheeks like that (Uh)\nWhy I'm a freak like that?\n\nBad gyal don't die-die-die\nHundred rounds on that grrah-ta-ta\nReal one lick a shot-ta-ta\nShe my lil' vibe, my lil' ah-ah-ah\nBad gyal don't run from nobody, like ah\nRude boy want me touchin' on his body, like yah\nBoy affi dead if he ever diss me\nAnd he know what to do if he ever miss me\n\nWhen the Queen leave, bitches wanna come out like a cockroach\nUntil I'm cookin' in the kitchen like a pot roast (Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nThat new Spectre, we don't fill pot holes (Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nDorito\u2014bitches mad that they nachos\nShoutout my vatos\nShout out to hoes that's watchin' me like Movados (Click, click, click)\nAll them, all them botched face photos, why would you post those?\nMake a gyal duppy since I heard you like my ghost, hoes\nBig truck but I'm alone like Post, though (Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nCall Malone and tell him I'm goin' postal (Brr)\nThese bitches rappin' like my blooper roll (Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nDesert Eagle if your nigga actin' super bold\n(Got 'em, got 'em, got 'em) Got 'em like, \"Uh-oh\"\nGun fingers like niggas doin' the bogle\nYa fuckin' bozo\nThat .40 cal a make 'em dance like a go-go\nSuper fakks, that's word to Super Cat\nWe ah rude gyal youth and we nuh tek back we chat\n'Cause bitches couldn't walk in my Crocs, that's word to Dundee\nJust a bunch of airheads like Kelly Bundy\nMan, these bitches so slow, man, they slower than sloths (Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nSix-hundred horse, how you gon' catch the boss?\nCaught 'em with they hand out, tryna catch the sauce (Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nThierry Mugler flow, tryna cut the cloth\nSee the difference is: I run businesses (Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nIf I ain't employ you, then what ya business is?\nI'll have staff roll up, like, \"What the business is?\" (Uh-oh, uh-oh)\nOh, you don't know that my niggas kill witnesses?\nBad gyal don't die-die-die\nHundred rounds on that, grrah-ta-ta\nReal one lick a shot-ta-ta\nShe my lil' vibe, my lil' ah-ah-ah\nBad gyal don't run from nobody, like ah\nRude boy want me touchin' on his body, like yah\nBoy affi dead if he ever diss me\nAnd he know what to do if he ever miss me, yeah\nIf you want me to stay\nI'll never leave\nIf you want me to stay\nWe'll always be\nIf you want me to stay\nLove endlessly\nIf you want me to stay"}
{"text":"I just wanted memories with you\n\nRegret in your tears, know you taste 'em\n'Cause you know I don't chase, I replace 'em\nDon't rush, take time, take some\nI just wanted memories, tried to make some with you\nYou\nNow I gotta erase some with you\nYou\n\nLook at you now, stuck in the background\nSilence right now sounds so loud\nTried to let you go, you come back 'round\nLook at you now, stuck in the background\nTwo seats in my two seater-er-er\nUsed to pull off on me, leave me hur-urt\nTryna front, but I know you do your dir-irt\nNot nice, boy you know you do your dirt\n\nRegret in your tears, know you taste 'em\n'Cause you know I don't chase, I replace 'em\nDon't rush, take time, take some\nI just wanted memories, tried to make some with you\nYou\nNow I gotta erase some with you\nYou\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nBaby now you know you got nerve\nI know you just wanna be heard\nI'm a bad bitch, you ain't used to that\nYou gon' fuck around and make me do you bad\nUsed to creep, creep, with you through the back\nI count up the cash and bring you the bag\nI count up the racks like Serena\nPlus I got that ass like Selena\nAnd you know nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, not a bitch\nThat's gon' care, care, hold you down and love you like this\nDrop down, turn around, baby show you like this\nWon't find another one to ride it like a soldier like this\n\nRegret in your tears, know you taste 'em\n'Cause you know I don't chase, I replace 'em\nDon't rush, take time, take some\nI just wanted memories, tried to make some with you\nYou\nNow I gotta erase some with you\nYou\n\nYeah, and they say big girls don't cry\nBaby, I cried\nThe real ones don't lie\nBaby, you lied\nI don't know what to do with you\nBaby, now I'm through with you\n'Cause you don't even know what you just lost\nYou don't even know what you just had\nYou don't even know, and that's what's bad\nMoney bag long, that bitch bad\nUsed to lay up in them sheets, they were snow white\nNow you spendin' cold nights\nYou've been in the wrong so long\nYou don't even know right\nCall my line, call my line, I'm like, \"Please, boy\"\nYou just need to leave, boy\nI ain't got time for you\nJust once, do somethin' for me, boy\n\nRegret in your tears, know you taste 'em\n'Cause you know I don't chase, I replace 'em\nDon't rush, take time, take some\nI just wanted memories, tried to make some with you\nYou\nNow I gotta erase some with you\nYou\n\nTried to make some with you, you\nWith you, you\nI tried to make some with you\nI tried to make some with you\nI tried to make some with you\nI tried to make some with you\nI tried to make some with you, baby\nMake some with you\nTwo pickney, mi woulda make some with you\nYou said you would save me\nYou said you would save me\nHahahaha, rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr\nOhhhh, woooh"}
{"text":"Uh, look, sucker, this my gun butt-uh\nStreet fighter, bitches, this the up-cut-uh\nNunchuk-uh, no time to duck-uh\nSign of the cross, 'cause this is her last supper\nPlay wit' me, check who came wit' me\nI bought a couple nines, plus the Ks with me\nI breeze through Queens to check some bad bitches\nI stunt so hard, assess the damages\n'Cause this that \"Oh,\" this is that \"Oh\"\nAnd yes, I body bitches, go get the bandages\nY-Y-Y-Young Yummy, fuck you got for me?\nI hate a phony bitch that front that chum-chummy\nI'm me, top shotta, drop the top, top-uh\nBig fat pussy wit' a icy watch\n\nI am your leader, yes, I am your leader\nYou not a believer, suck a big dick\n\nYo, when I fly, it's one letter and one number\nYou wack hoes could get hot for one summer\nAfter that, the Queen'll still reign here\nI'm Santa Claus to these hoes without a reindeer\nSaint Nick, Ross, hey, Rick\nI just got a toy, cost eight fifty\nNow I'm in the hood, niggas is gettin' woodies\nHit up Hot Topic, Nicki Minaj hoodies\nI-I-I-I-I'm a brand, bitch, I'm a brand\nGo to Harlem and get Cam\nIt's Dipset, get your dick wet\nBoarded a big jet and got a big check\nNow you tell me, who the fuck is winnin'?\nI'm on my Russell Simmon, Nicki denim, Nicki linen\nKyuh\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI am your leader (Uh), yes, I am your leader\nYou're not a believer, suck a big dick\n\nJealous niggas is gossip, watch me tie up my laces (Ugh)\nBitches be jocking, tell by the look on they faces\nEight digits I'm clocking, a lot of gold in my bracelet (Woo)\nSeven figures on watches; I told my mama I made it (Ha-ha)\nMade a deal for my project; just give me ten mil', I'm gravy (Gravy)\nI went back to the projects, in two mil of Mercedes\nI get head from your lady; have her bill me later\nI'm old school with the hustle, just gave Rihanna my pager\nHeartbreak hotel, I'm in the A-Rod suite\nRolls Royce wood, I'm talking playoff seats\nKnow that boy busy balling, I like to play all week\nMonday night with the RAW, I\u2019m Vince McMahon with a beat\nPower-slamming them hammers, I get you handled for free (Uh)\nSo where the fuck is her manners? She give me brain while I tweet\nDM, in the BM, you \"cm\"; you bucket, you love it\n(I am your leader, yes, I am your leader)\n(You're not a believer, suck a big dick)\nMotherfuckers on my dick, suck it\n\nI am your leader, yes, I am your leader\nYou're not a believer, suck a big dick\nUgh, see the car is European\nBut got imported from Tokyo (It did)\nLooking like a shark\nThe nose, call it Pinocchio (No lie)\nWell off, wealthy, LV logo (Uh-huh)\nMiddle of July, but the wrist on snow-flow (Swish!)\nOnly do the Aspens\nY'all can have the Poconos (Y'all can have that)\nI'm Sonny, and you my son (Calogero)\nRide the whip, five on the hip\nLive with the pies, got nine for the flip\nHigh with a bitch, she cry for the dick\nOh my, know why? I'm fly as it gets\nNow I need a Aspirin; she said, \"You're only Cameron\"\nGirlfriend, you don't know Cameron from nowhere\nSo don't go tampering (Watch ya mouth)\nYou're just a nail, I hammer (Yup!)\n'Nother girl that's on my camera (Yup!)\nMy name, you cannot slander at all\nGirl, watch your manners (Yup!)\nShe run and tell her mother, \"I think I love him, Nana.\"\nBecause you sat upon my lap? Nah! I ain't Santa (Nope!)\nThey call me \"Pied Piper,\" OJ no glove I knife her\n(I am your leader, yes, I am your leader)\nNever been a lifer, even do Rikers\n(You're not a believer, suck a big dick)\nWhy would I fight? I don\u2019t even like her\nI-I-I-I am your leader, yes, I am your leader\nYou're not a believer, suck a big dick\nI-I-I-I am your leader, yes, I am your leader\nYou're not a believer, suck a big dick"}
{"text":"80 ContributorsI Lied Lyrics\nOh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh\nOh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh\nI lied, I lied, I lied\nTo keep you from breaking my heart\n\nEven though I said I didn\u2019t love you (Love you, love you)\nI lied, I lied\nEven though I said I didn\u2019t need you\nI lied, I lied\nTo keep you from breaking my heart, ooh\nTo keep you from breaking my heart, ooh\nEven though I said, \"Don\u2019t touch me\" (Touch me, touch me)\nI lied, I lied\n\nI can\u2019t fall for you, can\u2019t give my all to you\nCan\u2019t let you think that I'ma let the game stall for you\nGotta protect me, you gotta sweat me\nYou said you thought you was ready and I said, \"Let\u2019s see\"\nBut I ain\u2019t mean that, I need some fuckin' proof\n'Cause what happens if I fall in love then you cut me loose?\nYou just a heartbreaker, won\u2019t let you break mine\n'Cause I\u2019ll be smashin' windows and cuttin' them brake lines\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nI lied\n'Cause who knew that if I just let myself go with you\nWho knows? Who knows? So, I lied\nTo keep you from breaking my heart, ooh\nTo keep you from breaking my heart, ooh\nEven though I said, \"Fuck you\" (Fuck you, fuck you)\nI lied, I lied\n\nI thought eventually, you would let me go\nThat was my insecurities and my ego\nMissed my jump shot, missed my free throw\nMiss the way we kiss, miss the D, yo\nMan, it was good while it lasted\nThat shit wasn\u2019t real, it was magic\nIf it was a record, it woulda been classic\nBut fuck you though, orgasmic (Orgasmic)\n\nI guess this what I gotta do to keep me from fallin', stallin' the truth\nWho knew what you\u2019d do if I let you in?\nMy mama ain't raised no fool, I\nI'm not your usual, typical type\nWho would protect me if I never hide?\nFallin' so fast, I'm afraid of you\nSo I lied\nI lied, I lied\nTo keep you from breaking my heart, ooh\nTo keep you from breaking my heart, ooh, whoa\n\nI lied, ooh, baby\nOoh\n'Cause who knew that if I let myself go with you (Ooh)\nIt\u2019s over now, goodbye, love (Ah, oh)\nYou\u2019ll stay, you\u2019ll stay in my heart (You'll stay in my heart) forever"}
{"text":"Take your medication, Roman\nTake a short vacation, Roman, you'll be okay\nYou need to know your station, Roman\nSome alterations on your clothes and your brain\nTake a little break, little break from your silencing\nThere's so much you can take, you can take\nI know how bad you need a Roman holiday\nRoman holiday, a Roman holiday\nYou done, you tight? You suck at life?\nYou don't want a round three? You done suffered twice\nWorship the queen and you might could pass\nKeep it real, these bitches couldn't wipe my ass\nAnyway, stylist, go get Bvlgari\nI am the ultimate Svengali\nYou, you bitches can't even spell that\nYou, you hoes bugging, repel that\nLet me tell you this, sister\nI am, I am colder than a blister\n'Cause my flow's so sick, and I'm a lunatic\nAnd this can't be cured with no Elixir\n'Cause y'all know who the fuck, what the fuck I do\nI done put the pressure to every thug I knew\nQuack, quack to a duck and a chicken too\nPut the hyena in a freakin' zoo\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nTake your medication, Roman\nTake a short vacation, Roman, you'll be okay\nYou need to know your station, Roman\nSome alterations on your clothes and your brain\nTake a little break, little break from your silencing\nThere's so much you can take, you can take\nI know how bad you need a Roman holiday\nRoman holiday, a Roman holiday\n\nBitch, twitch!\nBitch, motherfucking right, this is World War Six\nThis right here might make a bitch die\nAnd this right here is gonna make a bitch cry\nAnd if we being honest, I am such a great guy\nAnd this what I do when a bitch breaks flock\nI'mma put her in a dungeon under, under\nNo them bitches ain't eating, they dying of hunger\nMotherfucker, I me, who the fuck is this hoe?\nAnd yes, maybe just a touch of Tourette's\nGet my wigs, Terrence, go and get my beret\nTake your medication, Roman\nTake a short vacation, Roman, you'll be okay\nYou need to know your station, Roman\nSome alterations on your clothes and your brain\nTake a little break, little break from your silencing\nThere's so much you can take, you can take\nI know how bad you need a Roman holiday\nRoman holiday, a Roman holiday\nCome all ye faithful\nJoyful and triumphant\nI am Roman Zolanski\nCome all ye faithful\nJoyful and triumphant\nI am Roman Zolanski\nCome all ye faithful\nJoyful and triumphant\nI am Roman Zolanski\n\nTalking 'bout me, you talking about me?\nI dare a motherfucker to be talking about me\nThat bitch must be smokin' a couple of OZ's\nThey want the outline, I give them a goatee\nGoddamn, motherfucker, you talking about me?\nI dare a motherfucker to be talking about me\nThat bitch must be smokin' a couple of OZ's\nA-buh-buh-buh now give then a goatee\n\nTake your medication, Roman\nTake a short vacation, Roman, you'll be okay\nYou need to know your station, Roman\nSome alterations on your clothes and your brain\nTake a little break, little break from your silencing\nThere's so much you can take, you can take\nI know how bad you need a Roman holiday\nRoman holiday, a Roman holiday"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsRight By My Side Lyrics\n(Go!)\n\nIt all comes down to this\nI miss your mornin' kiss\nI won't lie, I'm feelin' it\nYou're gone now and I'm missin' it\nI'm so dumb, I must admit\nIt's too much to hold it in\nI can't say no more than this\nI just hope your heart hear me now\n\nGotta let you know how I'm feelin'\nYou own my heart, he just rentin'\nDon't turn away, pay attention\nI'm pourin' out my heart, oh, boy\n\nI (Yeah, yeah)\nI'm not livin' life\nI'm not livin' right (No, no, no)\nI'm not livin' if you're not by my side, oh-oh\nI (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh)\nI'm not livin' life (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh)\nI'm not livin' right (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh, right, yeah)\nI'm not livin' if you're not by my side, oh-oh (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh, yeah-yeah)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nLet's meet at our favorite spot\nYou know the one right around the block\nFrom the nice place that you love to shop\nCan you get away?\nGirl, just sit down, let's talk it out\nOne-on-one, without a crowd\nI wanna hold your hand, make you laugh again\nI need to be near you\n\nGotta let you know how I'm feelin'\nYou own my heart and she's just rentin'\nDon't turn away, pay attention\nI'm pourin' out my heart, girl\n\nI\nI'm not livin' life\nI'm not livin' right\nNo, I'm not livin' if you're not by my side, oh-oh\nI (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh)\nI'm not livin' life (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh)\nI'm not livin' right (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh)\nI'm not livin' if you're not by my side, oh-oh (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh)\nI can't eat, I, I, I, I\nI can't sleep, I, I, I, I\nWhat I need, I, I, I, I\nIs you right by my side, I\nI can't eat, I, I, I, I (You)\nI can't sleep, I, I, I, I\nWhat I need, I, I, I, I\nIs you right by my side, I (Yeah-yeah, yeah)\n\nIt, it, it-it-it, it ain't your spit game, it's your dick game\nThat got me walkin' 'round ready to wear your big chain\nI only argue with him when the Lakers on\nOther than that, I'm gettin' my Marc Jacobs on\nBut my pussy game so cold that he always seem to come back\n'Cause he know that it be a wrap when I'm ridin' it from the back\nWait, oh, let me see your phone 'cause all them bitches is ratchet\nAnd don't let me get in my truck 'cause all them bitches'll catch it\nWa-Wa-Wa-Wa-Wa-Wa-Wait, damn, there I go again\nI be trippin', I be flippin', I be so belligerent\nMan, the shit that we be fightin' over so irrelevant\nI don't even remember, though I was probably hella bent (Yeah, let's go, let's go)\n\nI (Yeah-yeah)\nI'm not livin' life (I'm not livin' life)\nI'm not livin' right (Oh, baby)\nI'm not livin' if you're not by my side, oh-oh (No, no, no, no)\nSaid I\nI'm not livin' life (Oh, yeah)\nI'm not livin' right (I'm not livin', ooh, I'm not livin')\nI'm not livin' if you're not by my side, oh-oh (Ooh, baby, no, no)\nI (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh)\nLife (Li-Li-Li-Life, woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh)\nRight (Gonna be here, no, no, woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh)\nIf you're not by my side, oh-oh (Woah-oh, woah-oh, woah-oh, na-na-na-na, baby)\n\nI can't eat, I, I, I, I\nI can't sleep, I, I, I, I (Yeah, I can't eat)\nWhat I need, I, I, I, I (I can't sleep)\nIs you right by my side, I (I can't sleep, baby, ooh)"}
{"text":"89 ContributorsYour Love Lyrics\nShorty, I'ma only tell you this once, you the illest\n(Ba, ba-da, da, doh)\nAnd for your loving, I'ma die hard like Bruce Willis\n(Ba, ba-da, da, doh)\nYou got spark, you, you got spunk\nYou, you got something all the girls want\nYou're like a candy store (Ah) and I'm a toddler (Ah)\nYou got me wanting more and m-m-more of\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love\nYour love, your love\nYour love, your love (Uh)\nYour love, your love (Uh, yo)\n\nHe the type to pop tags and be cockin' the brim\nMight breeze through The Ave, might stop at the gym\nAnd he keep a do-rag, keep the wave on swim\nW-w-waves on swim so they hate on him\nAnyway, I think I met him sometime before\nIn a different life or where I record\nI mean he was Adam, I think I was Eve\nBut my vision ends with the apple on the tree\n\"S\" on my chest 'cause I'm ready to save him\nReady to get buck on anybody that plays him\nAnd I think I love him, I love him just like I raised him\nWhen he call me \"mama, lil' mama,\" I call him \"baby\"\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nShorty, I'ma only tell you this once, you the illest\n(Ba, ba-da, da, doh)\nAnd for your loving, I'ma die hard like Bruce Willis\n(Ba, ba-da, da, doh)\nYou got spark, you, you got spunk\nYou, you got something all the girls want\nYou're like a candy store (Ah) and I'm a toddler (Ah)\nYou got me wanting more and m-m-more of\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love\nYour love, your love\nYour love, your love (Mmhmm)\nYour love, your love (Yo, yo)\n\nHe the type to keep a couple hundred grand in a rubber band\nJust left Money Gram in the lemon Lamb'\nHot damn, make me scream like Summer Jam\nI mean that nigga must be from the motherland\nAnyway, I think I met him in the sky\nWhen I was a Geisha, he was a Samurai\nSomehow, I understood him when he spoke Thai\nNever spoke lies and he never broke fly\n\"S\" on my chest, let me get my cape on\nHe's so thugged out, Ghostface and Raekwon\nConvict just like Akon\n'Cause you know the snitches be putting the jake on\nShorty, I'ma only tell you this once, you the illest\n(Ba, ba-da, da, doh)\nAnd for your loving, I'ma die hard like Bruce Willis\n(Ba, ba-da, da, doh)\nYou got spark, you, you got spunk\nYou, you got something all the girls want\nYou're like a candy store (Ah) and I'm a toddler (Ah)\nYou got me wanting more and m-m-more of\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love (Yeah)\nYour love, your love\nYour love, your love\nYour love, your love\nYour love, your love\n\nFind me in the dark\nI'll be in the stars\nFind me in your heart\nI'm in need of your love\nYour love, your love\nYour love\nBaby, you're the illest\nYour love\nYour love"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easGood Form (Remix) Lyrics\nEar Drummers\nMhm, Young Money, uh huh, mhm\nYo, hold up, hold up, mhm\nMhm, mhm, mhm, mhm\n\nYo, hold up, hold up, hold up, okay, hold up\nYou see a bad bitch coming through, yo, what's the hold up?\nI'm in that new new, me and New New when I roll up\nI tell the valet, \"Park my Benz and bring the Rolls up\"\nYo, hold up, hold up, hold up, okay, hold up\nHe see me lookin' pretty every time he scroll up\nMight gotta let the blicky hit you if you stroll up\nNow put your hands up, it's a hold up\nRun me the money (Go!)\n\n'Cause I be the baddie B, Barbie tings, banging body B (Go!)\nEverybody be on my D, yo, I gotta be (Go!) in reality\nSuck a D if you doubted me\nBack of the 'Bach, back of the 'Bach\nBack of the 'Bach, back of the 'Bach (Woo!)\nWho on Barbie D? Who on Barbie D? Everybody (Go!)\nOoh, you gotta see, honestly, on my odyssey (Go!)\nI'm the baddest B, I don't even know how to speak\nHat to the, hat to the back and relax, you in the back of the 'Bach\n(Come on!)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nSee, a bitch got more coins than a game room\nSo we ain't ever hatin' in TheShadeRoom\nSee, I keep my sons in a playroom\nSo me and you ain't ever in the same room\n\nI tell him eat the cookie 'cause it's good for him\nAnd when he eat the cookie he got good form\nHe know I don't never cheat because I'm good to him\nMight gotta have his baby, nurses yellin' \"push\" for him\nYou see I let him eat the cookie 'cause it's good for him\nAnd whenever he eat the cookie he got good form\nHe know that when I'm pullin' up, I'm in a good foreign\nI be like, ooh, he love me, ooh, he love me, good for him\nCome on, come on, come on\nI be like ooh, he love me, ooh, he love me, good for him\nCome on\n\nI slick, slick drop the top like nip slips\nSo he tryna smash like when the whip flips\nI hit licks just to floss with this wrist\nAnd when I leave my bitches, we all say, \"Kiss, kiss\"\nI'm in that new new De La Renta, channeling Bugs Bunny\n'Cause all I want is karats and some big drug money\nI'm only loyal to the niggas that'll bust guns for me\nThe jig up, it's a stick up, run me the money (Go!)\n'Cause I be the baddie B, Barbie tings, banging body B (Go!)\nEverybody be on my D, yo, I gotta be (Go!) in reality\nSuck a D if you doubted me\nBack of the 'Bach, back of the 'Bach\nBack of the 'Bach, back of the 'Bach (Woo!)\nWho on Barbie D? Who on Barbie D? Everybody (Go!)\nOoh, you gotta see, honestly, on my odyssey (Go!)\nI'm the baddest B, I don't even know how to speak\nHat to the, hat to the back and relax, you in the back of the 'Bach\n(Come on!)\n\nSee, a bitch get more press than a keypad\nBefore you suck me off, get a knee pad\nSee, I pull the strings like a tea bag\nI'm prolly with my jeweler playin' freeze tag\n\nI tell him eat the cookie 'cause it's good for him\nAnd when he eat the cookie, he got good form\nHe know I don't never cheat because I'm good to him\nMight gotta have his baby, nurses yellin' \"push\" for him\nYou see I let him eat the cookie 'cause it's good for him\nAnd whenever he eat the cookie, he got good form\nHe know that when I'm pullin' up, I'm in a good foreign\nI be like ooh, he love me, ooh, he love me, good for him\nCome on, come on, come on\nI be like ooh, he love me, ooh, he love me, good for him\nCome on\nBarbie, (Yes?) I think you gnarly (Ooh)\nI think you fly, these other bitches just larvae (Haha)\nWhen you make that ass jump like my heartbeat\nAnd if you let me eat the pussy, then it's shark week\n\"Hello, may I speak to Tunechi?\" May I ask who's callin'?\nEverybody got the juice without a glass to pour it\nI want my cake and eat it, too, and after that, I'm starving\nI feel like Adam, but I'm 'bout to eat a apple on you, uh\nRollie on the right side, now y'all on my time\nPlease get off my dick before it turn into a pipe bomb\nEyes lookin' like I'm somewhere outta Taiwan\nFaded as fuck as always, hi mom\nLook dude, I'll stomp your ass out in my good shoes\nBe my foot stool\nTold my lawyer don't call me 'less it's good news\nThen my phone started ringing off the hook, snooze, brrr\n\n'Cause I be the baddie, B\nYoung Money, it's a army\nHe ain't into toys, but he fuck with the Barbie\nIt's the president, Monica what they call me\nNicki the ninja, Nicki the boss, Nicki the harajuku, ah\nRemix, baby\nMula\nYeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsBig Daddy Lyrics\nYou hear that right there?\nThat sound like, but that 300 thousand nigga\nI'm triple OG in my hood\nThese hoes call me big daddy\n\nYour bitch call me big daddy\nTell that bitch that I'm big daddy\nWhen I hit the lot I don't get the little bitch\nNigga I go and get the big daddy\nPick a bitch up in the big daddy\nBig face Rollie that's a big daddy\nGot your bitch calling me big daddy\nWhen I pull up all the hoes like big daddy\nNigga I'm big daddy\n\nStandin' on the corner in some shit that look like I payed like a million for\nBlowin' the money I heard that they askin' around town what he really worth\nMost of these niggas be really broke\nI went the Hardaway boy had a penny first\nNow these bitches gon' get this work\nI tell her keep on them heels and that mini skirt\nShe Google my net worth, lookin' like \"what is his neck worth?\"\nMy shooters,  they shoot at your head, like the rim just to see if the net work\nI land in Miami then fly out to Cali with some of my best work\nYou niggas so lame that my bitches won't fuck unless you cut a check first\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nYour bitch call me big daddy\nTell that bitch that I'm big daddy\nWhen I hit the lot I don't get the little bitch\nNigga I go and get the big daddy\nPick a bitch up in the big daddy\nBig face Rollie that's a big daddy\nGot your bitch calling me big daddy\nWhen I pull up all the hoes like big daddy\nNigga I'm big daddy\n\nPulled up in something that look like a million nigga put me up on\nAin't gotta sell it, but he say the pussy a drug that he re-up on\nSpur of the moment, I ball like Gin\u00f3bili, you bitches get D'ed up on\nYou mad at me? Go get mad at your nigga 'fore I put my sneakers on\nHe copped me this wrist game, now it's just us at the Knicks game\nI might have to take him on tour just to fuck in Australia, Brisbane\nYour time is ticking, you bitches will be around shorter than Vine vids\nYou watch your mouth or my niggas will shoot up the club like what Shyne did\n\nYour bitch call me big daddy\nTell that bitch that I'm big daddy\nWhen I hit the lot I don't get the little bitch\nNigga I go and get the big daddy\nPick a bitch up in the big daddy\nBig face Rollie that's a big daddy\nGot your bitch calling me big daddy\nWhen I pull up all the hoes like big daddy\nNigga I'm big daddy\nBitches ain't stupid, you bitches ain't stupid\nYou bitches ain't stupid, is you?\nFront like she tough but that bitch keep on crying\nGet this bitch a tissue\nFor what it's worth when I took him I could tell he would never miss you\nI ain't even wanna diss you, but tell me what is this bitch issue?\n\nStill on top, pretty bitch gang\nPussy still tight, pistol still bang\nYo nigga call me big mama\nLet him eat the pussy then I dip on him\n\nYour bitch call me big daddy\nTell that bitch that I'm big daddy\nWhen I hit the lot I don't get the little bitch\nNigga I go and get the big daddy\nPick a bitch up in the big daddy\nBig face Rollie that's a big daddy\nGot your bitch calling me big daddy\nWhen I pull up all the hoes like big daddy\nNigga I'm big daddy"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easTrini Dem Girls Lyrics\nBrixton girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nQueens dem girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nTrini dem girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nJamaican girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\n\nYo, he in love with a ghetto girl\nHe said he want a piece like Metta World\nPat, pat on the kitty cat\nHe don't mess with them regulars\nHe tryna kick it like a ninja\nHe tryna stick it like syringes\nHe don't ever play the benches\nSo I'ma let him touch it if he playin' with some inches\n\nI know that you want it, I see that you watchin'\nYou love when I wine it (Ayy)\nYou know that I'm sexy, I hope that you ready\nTo come here and get it\nWeh di hot gyal dem? (Woah)\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nBrixton girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nQueens dem girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nTrini dem girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nJamaican girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\n\nPut it in his face like a cop badge\nHe wanna pound it like a hashtag\nHe gon' have to get the wash rag\nIf he shoot it up, I'ma bust back\nThem island girls is the baddest (Mmm)\nAmerican girls run the planet (Mmm)\nSouth African, European, Asian, Australian and my Canadian girls\n\nI know that you want it, I see that you watchin'\nYou love when I wine it (Ayy)\nYou know that I'm sexy, I hope that you ready\nTo come here and get it\nWeh di hot gyal dem? (Woah)\nBrixton girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nQueens dem girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nTrini dem girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nJamaican girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\n\nAll the bad boys try to push up on me (Hey)\nHe want a bad girl to come and spend his money (Hey)\nHe say it taste good, just like honey (Hey)\nHe in love with a girl from the islands inna di miniskirt flow\n\nI know that you want it, I see that you watchin'\nYou love when I wine it (Ayy)\nYou know that I'm sexy, I hope that you ready\nTo come here and get it\nWeh di hot gyal dem? (Woah)\n\nBrixton girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nQueens dem girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nTrini dem girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nJamaican girls, dem a pat the pum pum\nDem a wine up dem waist, dem a pat the pum pum\nAyy, ayy, ayy"}
{"text":"\nI'm talkin' 'bout my brand and you talkin' 'bout your brands\nThe difference is a lot of MMMMMMMMMMs to your couple hundred grand\nYoung Money!\nShout out to Lil Wayne for signing a lil chick from Queens\nNew York City\n\nYoung ma, it's the female Jay\nI'm a brand accordin' to what retail say\nYeah my tours be sellin' out on presale day\nPlus I got the title queen stream, press replay\nTestified for my nigga to the DA's face\nOne time for this super old PA case\nI'm still schoolin' bitches like GA State\nAnd I'ma still ball, call me T.D. Jakes\nBars for years, niggas thought I did a bid\nI'm draggin' these hoes like Harambe did the kid\nShut the club down, it was poppin' then we slid\nI call my pussy liquor, I ain't talkin' 'bout a swig\nBut if you thirsty, I own a sangria\nShout out to Fox Brown, I don't mean Pam Grier\nI got a sign that say \"Lames can't hang here\"\nBats eyelashes, blank stare\nHe be like, \"You came?,\" I be like, \"You came?\"\nHe say my ride game smoother than a Muslanne\nEvery time they count me out I be like, \"You sane?\"\nBitch I come back like Jordan in his flu game\nEvery time I shoot it, it be all net\nI give him ostrich, that mean all neck\nAnything he need, I got on deck\nAnd go to sleep playin' with his ballsack\nSee Nicki Minaj LiveGet tickets as low as $78You might also like\nHahahah... Aaaaah! Rrrrrr...\nThey wanna know my recipe\nThey know I ball like the niggas at the ES-PYs\nStrung out on the pussy so I call her Crystal Methanine\nShorty tryna give me brain like telepathy\nAyo Sincer\u00e9, get Chanel bags\nGot a bitch lookin' like Chanel ads\nChillin' out in dem Beverly Hill pads\nI gave bitches time but they still mad\nSi, est\u00e1 loco\nIf my bitch don't like you, yo tampoco\nMe Dorothy and you Toto\nNow put some marshmallows in my cocoa\n Mmm.. Tastes good... Hahah...\nYo, don't ever talk about Nicki in the past-tense\nUnless I fly pass that ass in a fast Bent'\nFuck outta here you dumb bitch\nYou know I'm pretty, and I'm witty, and I'm dumb rich\nYou throw shade, but I sun bitch\nAnd now you know what I'ma say, you my son, bitch\n\nYikes, yikes, yikes, yikes...\nKeep me rollin', Juice..\nHold on, hold on, keep me rollin' Juiiiiice..\nLike I ain't make all these bitches want a fat ass at some point\nHahahahahaaaaa\nLike I ain't make these bitches rock pink hair at some point!\nHahahahah! Rrrrr! Oh my God!\nWait, God is good\nLemme, lemme testify, God is good\nShoutout to my fans, I love y'all so much too\nI miss y'all so much too\nOoouuu! Hahaha\nOoouuu! Uh!\nLike I ain't make a lot of bitches start spitting metaphors and all of that\nMm, queen back...\n\nUh, uh, uh, uh ,uh\nTurn it up, turn it up in my ear, Juice\nMm, okay, uh, hahahaha, uh\nThis is only for my bad bitches, okay\n\nTing-a-ling a ling, dancehall it swing\nDJ head stuck up when dem hear boom riddim\nTing-a-ling a ling, schoolbell it ring\nKnife and fork ah fight fi dumplin\nTing-a-ling a ling, dancehall it swing\nDJ head stuck up when dem hear boom riddim\nTing-a-ling a ling, schoolbell it ring\nKnife and fork ah fight fi dumplin\n\nUh, uh, uh\nI fly like paper, I get high like planes\nIf you catch me at the border I got visas in my name\nI got visas in my name, I got visas in my name\nIf you catch me at the border I got visas in my name\nTh-this is my reign, que-queen is my name\nYou, dutty gyal, nuh dare in my lane\nWatch unu mouth, wa-watch what unu say\nThis is my game, so watch how unu play\nM.I.A., M.I.A., I make bitches go M.I.A\nM.I.A., M.I.A., I make bitches go M.I.A\nM.I.A., M-M-M-M.I.A., I-I-I make bitches go M.I.A\nM.I.A., M.I.A., I make bitches go M.I.A\nRrrr\nTing-a-ling a ling, dancehall it swing\nDJ head stuck up when dem hear boom riddim\nTing-a-ling a ling, schoolbell it ring\nKnife and fork ah fight fi dumplin\nTing-a-ling a ling, dancehall it swing\nDJ head stuck up when dem hear boom riddim\nTing-a-ling a ling, schoolbell it ring\nKnife and fork ah fight fi dumplin\n\nI'm talkin' 'bout my brand and you talkin' 'bout your brands\nThe difference is a lot of MMMMMMMMMMs to your couple hundred grand\nMm, c'mon! Kyuh"}
{"text":"Woo, woo\nI pull up like\nHow you pull up, Baby? How you pull up? (Oh, oh,\u2005oh)\nHow\u2005you pull up?\u2005I pull up (Woo, SethInTheKitchen)\n\nLet's go\nBrand\u2005new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car\nWith the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nHave you ever met a real nigga rockstar? (Yeah)\nThis ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (Woo)\nMy Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (Woo)\nYou better let me go the day you need me (Woo)\nSoon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (Woo)\nAnd if I ain't enough, go get the chop\n\nIt's safe to say I earned it, ain't a nigga gave me nothin' (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI'm ready to hop out on a nigga, get to bustin'\nKnow you heard me say, \"You play, you lay,\" don't make me push the button\nFull of pain, dropped enough tears to fill up a fuckin' bucket\nGoin' for buckets, I bought a chopper\nI got a big drum, it hold a hundred, ain't goin' for nothin'\nI'm ready to air it out on all these niggas, I can see 'em runnin'\nJust talked to my mama, she hit me on FaceTime just to check up on me and my brother\nI'm really the baby, she know that her youngest son was always guaranteed to get the money (Okay, let's go)\nShe know that her baby boy was always guaranteed to get the loot\nShe know what I do, she know 'fore I run from a nigga, I'ma pull it out and shoot (Boom)\nPTSD, I'm always waking up in cold sweats like I got the flu\nMy daughter a G, she saw me kill a nigga in front of her before the age of two\nAnd I'll kill another nigga too\n'Fore I let another nigga do somethin' to you\nLong as you know that, don't let nobody tell you different\nDaddy love you (Yeah, yeah)\nYou might also like\nLet's go\nBrand new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car\nWith the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nHave you ever met a real nigga rockstar? (Yeah)\nThis ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (Woo)\nMy Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (Woo)\nYou better let me go the day you need me (Woo)\nSoon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (Woo, yeah)\nAnd if I ain't enough, go get the chop (Yeah, yeah)\n\nKeep a Glocky when I ride in the Suburban\n'Cause the codeine had a young nigga swervin'\nI got the mop, watch me wash 'em like detergent\nAnd I'm ballin', that's why it's diamonds on my jersey\nSlide on opps' side and flip the block back, yeah, yeah\nMy junior popped him and left him lopsided, yeah, yeah\nWe spin his block, got the rebound, Dennis Rodman\nFool me one time, you can't cross me again\nTwelve hundred horsepower, I get lost in the wind\nIf he talkin' on the yard, the pen' dogs'll take his chin\nMaybach SUV for my refugees\nBuy blocks in the hood, put money in the streets\nI was solo when the opps caught me at the gas station\nHad it on me, thirty thousand, thought it was my last day\nBut they ain't even want no smoke\nIf I had to choose it, murder what she wrote\nLet's go\nBrand new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car\nWith the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nHave you ever met a real nigga rockstar? (Yeah)\nThis ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (Woo)\nMy Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (Woo)\nYou better let me go the day you need me (Woo)\nSoon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (Woo)\nAnd if I ain't enough, go get the chop"}
{"text":"Pooh, you a fool for this one\nHa\nOh Lord, Jetson made another one\n\nHah\nPack in the mail, it's gone (Uh)\nShe like how I smell, cologne (Yeah)\nI just signed a deal, I'm on\nYeah, yeah\nI go where I want, I'm good (Good)\nPlay if you want, let's do it (Ha)\nI'm a young CEO, Suge (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah\n\nThe first nigga play, I'ma body a nigga (Ha)\nI just checked my balance\nI'll probably pull up to your hood\nAnd come buy me a nigga (No cap)\nYou know that your ho told you that nigga crazy\nDon't think that she lied to you, nigga (Bitch)\nGet caught with your ho when I'm poppin' 'em both\nNow they high just like Bobby and Whitney (Haa)\nSay I'm the goat, act like I don't know\nBut fuck it, I'm obviously winnin'\nDon't make me go hit the bank and take out a hundred\nTo show you our pockets are different (Ha)\nI'm out with your bitch and I only want knowledge\nShe got a lil' mileage, I'm chillin' (Uh)\nYou disrespect me and I'll beat your ass up\nAll in front of your partners and children (Ahh, ahh)\nI'm the type to let a nigga think that I'm broke\nUntil I pop out with a million (I pop)\nTake 20K and put that on your head\nAnd make one of your partners come kill you (Yeah)\nSay he fuckin' with me then he gotta grow up\n'Cause this nigga gotta be kiddin' (Kiddin')\nThis shit, it can't fit in my pocket\nI got it, like I hit the lottery, nigga (Hot, hot, hot)\nOpp, I'll slap the shit out a nigga\nNo talkin', I don't like to argue with niggas (I don't)\nAin't gon' be no more laughin'\nYou see me whip out 'cause I'm gon' be done shot me a nigga (No cap)\nI don't follow no bitches on IG\nBut all of your bitches, they follow a nigga (Ha)\nAnd that lil' nigga ain't gon' shoot shit with that gun\nHe just pull it out in his pictures (Bitch, uh)\nYou might also like\nHah\nPack in the mail, it's gone (Uh)\nShe like how I smell, cologne (Yeah)\nI just signed a deal, I'm on\nYeah, yeah\nI go where I want, I'm good (Good)\nPlay if you want, let's do it (Ha)\nI'm a young CEO, Suge (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah\nHah\nPack in the mail, it's gone (Uh)\nShe like how I smell, cologne (Yeah)\nI just signed a deal, I'm on\nYeah, yeah\nI go where I want\nI'm good (Good)\nPlay if you want, let's do it (Ha)\nI'm a young CEO, Suge (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah\n\nTalkin' my shit, I'ma pop that (Pop)\nGot like thirty-two thousand in one of my pockets\nThe other one, that's where the Glock at (Glock)\nYou little niggas wanna be internet gangster\nMan, tell all these little niggas stop that (Ha)\nBeen done burnt me a nigga in front of the store\nWhere your mammy and grandmama shop at (Bitch)\nHopped out on a whole other wave from these niggas\nLet's see one of you little niggas top that\nI will turn a nigga into a convertible\nPush me a lil' nigga top back (Vroom)\nHer boyfriend be hatin' and callin' her groupie\nJust 'cause she like all my music (Ha)\nShe'll send me a text and then delete the message\nHe tryna find out, it's confusin'\nI don't know what these niggas is thinkin' about\nUse the brain in your head 'fore you lose it (Bitch)\nI'll pull up after school and I'll teach her some shit\nTell your bro I'm a motherfuckin' tutor\n'Member I used to cheat off a pretty bitch test\nAll the teachers, they thought I was stupid (Uh huh)\nWas expectin' the box to pull up on a truck\nMan, this nigga pulled up on a scooter (The fuck?)\nHah\nPack in the mail, it's gone (Uh)\nShe like how I smell, cologne (Yeah)\nI just signed a deal, I'm on\nYeah, yeah\nI go where I want, I'm good (Good)\nPlay if you want, let's do it (Ha)\nI'm a young CEO, Suge (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah\nHah\nPack in the mail, it's gone (Uh)\nShe like how I smell, cologne (Yeah)\nI just signed a deal, I'm on\nYeah, yeah\nI go where I want\nI'm good (Good)\nPlay if you want, let's do it (Ha)\nI'm a young CEO, Suge (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsBOP Lyrics\nYou know everybody been waiting on that Baby, man\nI mean, it's like ever since Baby\u2005on\u2005Baby dropped, man,\u2005like, you know (Ever since Baby\u2005on Baby dropped)\nAin't nobody drop shit (Oh Lord, Jetson made another one)\nLet's go, hah\n\nI needed some shit with some bop in it (Let's go)\nI flew past the whip with that blunt in my mouth\nWatch the swervin', that whip had a cop in it (Woo)\nMy bitch got good pussy, fly her 'cross the country\nI finish the show and I hop in it (Mm, mm, mm)\nI got me a milli', I did it legit-ly\nI'm still with the shits, I'm a hot nigga (Hot)\n\nOh, you asking for pictures with niggas? (Huh?)\nWhat's your name? Get the fuck out the spot, nigga (Get the fuck)\nTryna figure which deal I'ma take (Uh-huh)\nI woke up, couple mill' on my plate (Let's eat)\nI'm investing in real and estate (Uh-huh)\nI just went gave my mama a hundred (A hundred)\nProbably won't hear me open my mouth\n'Less you hearin' me talkin' 'bout finding some money (Let's go)\nAs soon as I found it, I flipped that (Flip)\nI'm a little bit different, they get it (They dig)\nKnow I'm stiff on a bitch and she dig it\nTryna find out why Baby ain't all in her mentions (Hah)\nNo, she ain't get no DM from me (Bitch)\nThis rich nigga dick, it ain't free\nShe be throwin' that ass, yeah, she good at it\nTurn around when we fuck, make her look at it (Uh, she like, hah)\nYou might also like\nI needed some shit with some bop in it (Let's go, uh)\nI flew past the whip with that blunt in my mouth\nWatch the swervin', that whip had a cop in it (Woo, okay)\nMy bitch got good pussy, fly her 'cross the country\nI finish the show and I hop in it (Mm, mm, mm, yeah)\nI got me a milli', I did it legit-ly\nI'm still with the shits, I'm a hot nigga (Hot, let's go)\n\nI'm unorthodox than a motherfucker\nAyy, when you gon' switch the flow? I thought you'd never ask\nNiggas ain't fuckin' with me\nAnd ain't 'bout what the fuck they be rappin' 'bout with they lil' scary ass (Hah)\nBut to each his own, nigga (Huh)\nIf you like it, I love it, no biggie (No big)\nThat boy say he get money, oh, really?\nHow much they just cut you a check for? A milli'\nI'm going back to Cali like Biggie (Go back)\n'Bout to go get a pound just to smoke (I smoke)\nThey told me to come work on my album\nI'm tryna go find out the price on a boat (Okay)\nMy lil' bitch act like Megan Thee Stallion (Mm)\nShe ghetto and nasty, she drivin' the boat (Mm, mm, drive the boat)\nAll this shit that they makin' be boring\nPlay me something to bop while I ride with the pole\nHere you go (Uh, oh, hah, okay)\nI needed some shit with some bop in it (Let's go)\nI flew past the whip with that blunt in my mouth\nWatch the swervin', that whip had a cop in it (Woo)\nMy bitch got good pussy, fly her 'cross the country\nI finish the show and I hop in it (Mm, mm, mm)\nI got me a milli', I did it legit-ly\nI'm still with the shits, I'm a hot nigga (I'm hot)\n\nLike, this shit feel like, you know\nThe sophisticated ratchet hoes, you know\nThe ones that go to work by day, then, you know\nDance in the mirror by night (Hah)\n\nI needed some shit with some bop in it (Okay, let's go)\nI flew past the whip with that blunt in my mouth\nWatch the swervin', that whip had a cop in it (Woo)\nMy bitch got good pussy, fly her 'cross the country\nI finish the show and I hop in it (Mm, mm, mm)\nI got me a milli', I did it legit-ly\nI'm still with the shits, I'm a hot nigga (I'm hot)\n\nOh, you asking for pictures with niggas?\nWhat's your name? Get the fuck out the spot, nigga (Get the fuck)\nTryna figure which deal I'ma take (Uh-huh)\nI woke up, couple mill' on my plate"}
{"text":"81 ContributorsINTRO Lyrics\nThinkin' 'bout my grandmama and shit (Wait a minute, who are you?)\nI got the number\u2005one\u2005record, they acknowledged\u2005the jit (Ayy, yo, Kid)\nThey goin'\u2005crazy when they play it, head bobbin' and shit\nAnd I'm just somewhere fucked up thinkin' 'bout my father and shit\nThey found him dead a couple days before I started tour\nSame day I flew back to the city from Miami\nI was out there with the family\nJust lookin' at my daughter\nThinkin' to myself like, \"Damn, my baby look just like my daddy\"\nSame time I got the news, my shit went number one, that's fucked up\nThat shit there was confusin', a lil' bit, you know I flew in with the stick\nOkay, like let me know what's up before I lose it in this bitch\nAnd everybody tryna talk, I ain't tryna talk, I'm tryna click\nI'm tryna send somebody wit' him\nSomebody let me know what's happenin'\nMy last name K-I-R-K, Kirk\nYou know how I rock behind my daddy\nYou know I never gave a fuck about the world, just about my family\nHow the fuck I make it to the top same day I lost the nigga that had me?\nHow a nigga perform on BET and a year ago couldn't afford a sandwich?\nI had to move in with TG when I went broke movin' out to Cali\nWhat you know about smilin' every day for all your fans, actin' like you happy?\nI spent a hundred thousand layin' my daddy to rest, but I ain't braggin'\nI got some questions, I'm a die about respect if I don't get answers\nMy mama stood up in that chair, took it like a G when she had cancer\nMy brother be thinkin' that we don't love him and let him struggle like we ain't family\nLike I won't give up all I got to see you happy, nigga\nWe shocked the world, everybody know what's happenin', nigga\nI'm still Lil' Jon Jon, my song, it just went platinum, nigga\nWe on our own time, let's go move out to Cali, nigga\nPut the kids in homeschool, let's go get us a mansion, nigga\nLet's raise our kids right, let's watch the shit we teach 'em, nigga\nLet's start a business for you so they can't say that you leechin', nigga\nHow I know I'm the chosen one, 'cause sometimes when I be speakin', nigga\nLike on this song, I ain't rappin', I'm preachin', nigga\nYou might also like\nIf I love you, then I need ya (Let's go)\nI fuck with you like Martin fuck with Gina (Uh)\nWe family like we Venus and Serena (Hey)\nLet's go get married like we Thankgod and Kenisha (Okay)\nDon't give a fuck about the world, just 'bout my people (Facts)\nI don't care what the fuck they told you, we ain't equal (Uh-uh)\nNiggas ain't cut from the same cloth, these niggas see-through (Ayy)\nAnd I be too busy doin' me to see what he do, nigga\n\nYeah, verse two, that lil' nigga from the other side (Uh-huh)\nAnd I do it myself, whenever I ride, you know that my brothers ride (Okay)\nAnd I still got a lotta shit on my mind that I can't undecide (Yeah, yeah)\nGot me ready to slide, feelin' like Doughboy when his brother died (Boyz n the Hood)\nYou know how I step, you know how I rep, you know about Baby, nigga (You know about Baby)\nYou know how I'm comin' back for that cross if you ever play me, nigga (Get back)\nYou know how I got it up out the mud and turned it to gravy, nigga (Huh)\nAnd hit the rap game like crack cocaine in the '80s, nigga\n\nFuck you niggas talkin' 'bout, bruh? Like.. (Oh my God, oh)\nLook (Oh my God)\nLook, man\nLook (Oh my God)\nBaby on Baby, now that's Baby on Baby\nGod is great\nBig dawg, Baby\nHe goin' Baby on Baby on Baby, huh\nYeah, rest in peace to my daddy\nRest in peace to my grandma\nLet's go\nIf I love you, then I need ya (Let's go)\nI fuck with you like Martin fuck with Gina (Uh)\nWe family like we Venus and Serena (Hey)\nLet's go get married like we Thankgod and Kenisha (Okay)\nDon't give a fuck about the world, just 'bout my people (Facts)\nI don't care what the fuck they told you, we ain't equal (Uh-uh)\nNiggas ain't cut from the same cloth, these niggas see-through (Ayy)\nAnd I be too busy doin' me to see what he do, nigga\n\nUh-huh\nOkay, yeah\nUh-huh\nOkay"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsVIBEZ Lyrics\nLet's go (Yeah, yeah, Neeko, you made that motherfuckin' beat? Ah, nah)\nYou know it's Baby,\u2005nigga,\u2005hahaha\nHah\n(Oh Lord, Jetson\u2005made another one), ha\n\nShe wanna fuck\u2005with me, but I don't got the time (Mmh, mmh)\nI just hopped off a private plane and went and hopped on 85 (Yeah)\nGo call my chauffeur, bitch, 'cause I don't like to drive\nWe in Suburbans back to back and we gon' fill 'em up with vibes (Let's go)\n\nFill 'em with vibes (Yeah), get in and ride (Yeah, yeah)\nAnd no, a nigga not blind (Uh-uh)\nBut I keep the stick and I'm firin' (Bitch)\nI ain't met a nigga in life\nThat's fuckin' with me, say he did, then he lyin' (Mmh, mmh)\nGot so many vibes stuffed in the car\nWe can fuck them hoes six at a time (No cap)\nI make them hoes say, \"That nigga so fine\" (Ooh)\n\"Girl, he got the dick you can feel in your spine\" (Yeah)\nYeah, that what they say about Baby\nYou know that them bitches don't play about Baby\nBaby should go run for president\nLook what God did, took his time with me (Yeah, yeah)\nGot a red and white ho like a peppermint (Ooh)\nBook the hotel, take the vibes in\nShe gon' fuck me and fuck on my brethren (Uh)\nMy brother 'nem, havin' three hoes in the king size\nI ain't finished yet (Mmh), get another bitch (Mmh)\nGot her ridin' dick and screamin', \"Yeehaw\" (Mmh, mmh, mmh, mmh)\nMake me proud, girl, you a cowgirl (Huh?)\nDid a handstand, I'm like, \"Wow, girl\" (Okay, okay)\nGot me fuckin' her upside-down (Ooh, mmh), baow, baow\nYeah, we goin' dumb, say she wanna cum (Mmh)\nI'm lookin' like, \"When?\" She lookin' like, \"Now\"\nSome more came in, say they want it too\nI tagged in my brother, bitch, I'm out (Bye), I know\nYou might also like\nShe wanna fuck with me, but I don't got the time (Mmh, mmh, yeah)\nI just hopped off a private plane and went and hopped on 85 (Yeah)\nGo call my chauffeur, bitch, 'cause I don't like to drive\nWe in Suburbans back to back and we gon' fill 'em up with vibes (Let's go)\nShe wanna fuck on me, but I don't got the time (Mmh, mmh)\nI just hopped off a private plane and went and hopped on 85 (Yeah)\nGo call my chauffeur, bitch, 'cause I don't like to drive\nWe in Suburbans back to back and we gon' fill 'em up with vibes (Look)\n\nLet's get on a jet (Yeah), come give me some neck (Yeah, yeah)\nShe ain't pickin' up (Huh?), and her nigga just called, she gon' send him a text\nI don't need no doc', bitch, you know I'm a dog, better send me the vet\nEver made you a million? I tell 'em, \"Riddle me that,\" ain't offended me yet\nMy bitch drink Bacardi, I'm in this bitch feelin' like 'Set (Okurr), quarter mil' on my neck\nOne-point-two on the crib, four hundred thou' on the whip, dickin' down your lil' bitch\nI'm 'bout to go buy me a coupe (Zoom)\nPull up, make the doors raise the roof (Yeah)\nLouis V army fatigue (Yes, sir)\nHop out with a pole like a troop (Yeah, get in there)\nBaby Ray Allen from three (Swish)\nYou leave me open, I shoot (Baow, baow)\nWe like Martin and Pam at the hotel (Uh)\nWe kickin' hoes out, get the boot (Mmh)\nThese hoes catchin' bodies, they 'bout it (Yeah)\nWe having new vibes in the lobby (New vibes)\nThat's wherever we go, ain't no problem (No problem)\nI just told a bitch no, she was childish (Bye)\nPulled up like\nShe wanna fuck with me, but I don't got the time (Mmh, mmh)\nI just hopped off a private plane and went and hopped on 85 (Yeah)\nGo call my chauffeur, bitch, 'cause I don't like to drive\nWe in Suburbans back to back and we gon' fill 'em up with vibes"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easGoin Baby Lyrics\nOh Lord, Jetson made another one\nHah\n\nI'm goin\u2019 baby on baby (Uh-huh)\nThat nigga a bitch, he think he a gangster\nHe probably still slangin' .380 (Ha)\nProbably told you I'm lit, come get you a sniff\nI\u2019m pure like cocaine in the '80s\nPull up rockin' all white like I'm Gotti (Ha)\n\nPut 'em up like a kite if he try me (Yuh)\nGot 'em watchin', my life is excitin'\nJust Facetimed my daughter, she laughin\u2019 and smilin\u2019 (Mwa)\nStill got shit on my plate from November (Uh-huh)\nA few open cases, they pendin' (Damn)\nFuck around, think I\u2019m signed to Cash Money (I)\nPull up with a Drake and a sprinter (I)\nGive a fuck how you think, how you feelin' (I)\nCould show you how to make a few million (I'm)\nSo full of myself, say I'm cocky (Yup)\nAsk the bitch if she copy, she copy (Okurr)\nI go straight through the door with my Glocky (Uh, uh)\nNiggas ain\u2019t really poppin', we poppin' (Yeah)\nPut the billion with baby, that business (Damn)\nPlay with me, put his name on a t-shirt (A tee)\nTell your boyfriend to go do his research (Uh-huh)\nShe suck my dick every day, say her knees hurt (Haa, hmm)\nYou might also like\nI'm goin' baby on baby (Uh-huh)\nThat nigga a bitch, he think he a gangster\nHe probably still slangin' .380 (Ha)\nProbably told you I'm lit, come get you a sniff\nI'm pure like cocaine in the '80s\nPull up rockin' all white like I'm Gotti (Ha)\nPut 'em up like a kite if he try me (Yuh)\nGot 'em watchin', my life is excitin' (Hmm)\nI'm goin' baby on baby (Uh-huh)\nThat nigga a bitch, he think he a gangster\nHe probably still slangin' .380 (Ha)\nProbably told you I'm lit, come get you a sniff\nI'm pure like cocaine in the '80s\n\nYour bitch on my dick, she a junkie (Uhh)\nI don't got no time (No, no)\nEvery day all I do is get money\nThey tryna tell me I'm a bad influence\nTalkin' bad 'bout everything I do, uh\nDunk on nigga like I'm Patrick Ewing\nI can't beat 'em up bet I'ma shoot 'em (Boom)\nYour bitch is a dog, she got rabies (Brr, ruff)\nI'm out doin' shows, state-to-state chasin' paper (Uh)\nI just closed a deal for an M (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nNow I'm out in LA like a motherfuckin' Laker\nThey left when I needed 'em, fucked up my feelings\nIt filled up my heart full of hatred (Uh, huh, huh)\nHeld it down on my own I proved everyone wrong every day (Ayy, ayy)\nGod is great, it's amazin' (Ayy)\nI'm goin' baby on baby (Uh-huh)\nThat nigga a bitch, he think he a gangster\nHe probably still slangin' .380 (Ha)\nProbably told you I'm lit, come get you a sniff\nI'm pure like cocaine in the '80s\nPull up rockin' all white like I'm Gotti (Ha)\nPut 'em up like a kite if he try me (Yuh, huh)\nGot 'em watchin', my life is excitin' (Hmm)\nI'm goin' baby on baby (Uh-huh)\nThat nigga a bitch, he think he a gangster\nHe probably still slangin' .380 (Ha)\nProbably told you I'm lit, come get you a sniff\nI'm pure like cocaine in the '80s\nBitch\n\nThat ain't the baby, that's my baby"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsTOES Lyrics\nMy heart so cold I think I'm done with ice (Uh, brr)\nSaid if I leave\u2005her,\u2005she gon' die\nWell,\u2005bitch, you done with life (Okay)\nBetter\u2005not pull up with no knife\n'Cause I bring guns to fights (Boom)\nSay you got that sack, I got that sack\nBut ain't no ones in mine (Nope)\nAnd my lil' bitch say I'm gettin' too bougie\nI don't even like dubs in mine (Alright)\nWhat I look like with all them twenties? (Huh?)\nKnow them hoes like how I'm coming (Yeah)\nWhat I look like with all this money? (Huh?)\nHow I look havin' all these hoes? (Uh)\nWhen I crack a smile, white gold (Bling)\nYeah, I'm talkin' diamonds, froze (Yeah)\nCame from the bottom, toes (Woah, Kenny)\n\nYeah, backend Baby (A hundred)\nThat's what they pay me a show (Let's go)\nThat's probably some cap in my rap\nBy the time this shit drop, they gon' pay me some more (Uh-huh)\nAnd I still can go back to the trap\nSend a box, pick it up, make a play at the store\nFeelings still hurt from when I saved that ho\nYou might also like\nMy heart so cold I think I'm done with ice (Uh, brr)\nSaid if I leave her, she gon' die\nWell, bitch, you done with life (Okay)\nBetter not pull up with no knife\n'Cause I bring guns to fights (Boom)\nSay you got that sack, I got that sack\nBut ain't no ones in mine (Nope)\nAnd my lil' bitch say I'm gettin' too bougie\nI don't even like dubs in mine (Alright)\n\nNope\nToo raw, dope (Yeah)\nYou know I'm one of the G.O.A.T.'s\nShe let me put it in the back of her throat\nWalk in the bank with a M in a tote (Yeah)\nI'm tryna make a deposit\nLet 'em try play with the money (Pow, pow)\nShawty gon' take off your noggin\nLong as she want it and pick it, I'm buyin' it\nI had the Rover for a year, I don't drive\nI get 'em whacked, I don't advise 'em to try it, yeah\nI'm runnin' shit, I ain't lyin'\nI got a backend for one twenty-five\nI bought a Patek for one eighty-five\nThis shit gettin' easy at this point\nMy heart so cold I think I'm done with ice (Uh, brr)\nSaid if I leave her, she gon' die\nWell, bitch, you done with life (Okay)\nBetter not pull up with no knife\n'Cause I bring guns to fights (Boom)\nSay you got that sack, I got that sack\nBut ain't no ones in mine (Nope)\nAnd my lil' bitch say I'm gettin' too bougie\nI don't even like dubs in mine (Alright)\n\nHeartless, don't need a valentine (Forever)\nI call 'em racks, not bands (Why?)\nAin't no rubber band on mine (At all)\nI used to be down, down, down, down\nWaiting on taxes time (Fucked up)\nLook at me now, now, now, now\nThey pay me to flex and shine (I'm up, let's get it)\nBig speaker like an eighteen inch sub (Yeah)\nI'm a hundred, you a dub (Nothin')\nLookin' for me, I'm booked up (Where you at?)\n50 Cent, I'm in the club (Hey)\nDiamonds on my earlobe, ice on dyke (Huh?)\nOne-fifty on studs\nRugrat, young nigga got it out the mud\nMy heart so cold I think I'm done with ice (Uh, brr, Big Bagg)\nSaid if I leave her, she gon' die\nWell, bitch, you done with life (Okay)\nBetter not pull up with no knife\n'Cause I bring guns to fights (Boom)\nSay you got that sack, I got that sack\nBut ain't no ones in mine (Nope)\nAnd my lil' bitch say I'm gettin' too bougie\nI don't even like dubs in mine\nWhat I look like with all them twenties? (Huh?)\nKnow them hoes like how I'm coming (Yeah)\nWhat I look like with all this money? (Huh?)\nHow I look havin' all these hoes? (Uh)\nWhen I crack a smile, white gold (Bling)\nYeah, I'm talkin' diamonds, froze (Yeah)\nCame from the bottom, toes"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsNext Song Lyrics\nWhen I talk it, I live it, they feel it (Hah)\nAnd I got a pretty bitch with a fat ass\nPut one leg in the air when I hit it (Ha-ha-ha-ha, Firzt on the track)\nThe police behind me, you know that I'm smashing\nI ain't pulling over, you tripping (Vroom, vroom)\nBut I ain't tryna talk about police\nLet's talk 'bout bitches, let's talk 'bout business (Okay)\nLet's talk 'bout this young nigga that came up from nothing\nNow he worth a motherfuckin' million (M)\nUsed to pay for a section, now they gotta bring us the backend to come in the building (Hah)\nI knew that I was special back when we was breaking in houses and robbin' and stealin' (Okay)\nWe made you put your hands in the air, put that thang in your face, run your pockets, we dippin' (Hah)\nAnd I ain't gotta act like I'm 'bout it, ain't ask for no vouchers, I'm really official (Okay)\nTryna look out for karma, I had good intentions, I'm still asking God to forgive me (Turn up)\nI know I got these fuck niggas pissed off, I'm over they bitch house, I'm all on the WiFi\nI'ma trick 'em and play Mr. Nice Guy (Hah)\nWhen he front, I run off, nigga, bye-bye\nI tell her I'm a motherfuckin' star\nShe can see me on TV, just turn it on Syfy\nYou know that I got a whole lot of hoes, and they all different colors, I mix 'em like tie-dye (Yeah)\nWe gon' make your ho dance with the devil, it's October 7th, shout out my boy DaDa (Ha)\nTurn it up on a whole 'nother level, now they can't deny it, I'm catching they eye now (They eye)\nYou might not wanna run up on me to promote your CD 'less you ready to die now (Boom)\nI can lower the price on the P's and you get 'em from me if you buy more than five now, bitch\nYou might also like\nAnd I'm the best motherfuckin' rapper, man, you know like\nTh-that's just too much for 'em, like\nYou know it's just too much for 'em, First\nYou see what I'm saying, it's just too much for 'em, man\nYou know, it's too much for 'em\nBlank Blank, you know\nThe best motherfuckin' rapper\nThe prettiest chocolate nigga alive\nNext song"}
{"text":"63 ContributorsBaby Sitter Lyrics\nYou know I ain't come to play, let\u2019s get it (Turn me up)\nI'm snappin' off the rip, your ho say I\u2019m her favorite nigga (Hah)\nYou probably don't wan' let your baby mama take a picture (Why? Go Grizz)\n'Cause I'm the type of Baby that's gon' fuck the babysitter (Marii Beatz, turn me up)\nI just did a show and pulled off laughin' on a hatin\u2019 nigga (Hah)\nThem bitches aimin\u2019 at y'all fast, I\u2019m on these rapper niggas' ass\nI pulled that .40 out, he better have an angel with him (Ah)\n\nYou tryna book me for a show, you gotta pay me 'fore I go\nWe feed the family, I ain't got no time to play with niggas (Ayy, what you see?)\nI see these niggas think they tough, you play with me, you know it\u2019s up\nYou think it's sweet then call my bluff and I'ma spank a nigga (Yeah, yeah)\nFuck all them niggas and whoever they got hangin' with 'em, bitch\nI'ma die of old age whenever I die (What we gon' do?)\nWalk down on that nigga, fuck a drive-by (Yeah)\nHis bitch came in with me but she ain't mine, mine (She not mine)\nFree my cousin 'til he free, he doin' time time (Let him free)\nI'm the motherfuckin' best but I'm not Khaled (Ayy, we the best)\nShe like how I be dressin', ain't no salad (Uh-huh)\nCan't fuck with her, she messy, that's a hazard (Oh no)\nTell the ref to blow the whistle, that bitch traveled (Brrt)\nFuck all that talkin', we 'bout action (What we 'bout?)\nYou got a son, you play with me, your son a bastard (Haha)\nThat nigga trippin', why he laughin'?\nNah, that's fucked up, bro, you ain't have to goddamn bring the kids into it\nYou might also like\nYou know I ain't come to play, let's get it (Turn me up)\nI'm snappin' off the rip, your ho say I'm her favorite nigga (Hah)\nYou probably don't wan' let your baby mama take a picture (Why? Go Grizz)\n'Cause I'm the type of Baby that's gon' fuck the babysitter (Marii Beatz, turn me up)\nI just did a show and pulled off laughin' on a hatin' nigga (Hah)\nThem bitches aimin' at y'all fast, I'm on these rapper niggas' ass\nI pulled that .40 out, he better have an angel with him (Hey, hey, hey, hey)\nFuck all them niggas and whoever they got hangin' with 'em, bitch\n\nShawty wanna be famous, don't it? (Who?)\nSay that she want a Patek with her name up on it (Patek, Patek)\nYou gotta fuck on an opp and get 'em painted, earn it (Stripes, woo)\nI'm drippin', not slippin', my socks got Gucci Gang up on 'em (Drippin', I'm drippin')\nSqueeze the fire, make 'em back, back, back, back (Baow)\nShe got fleas, shoo fly, she's a nat, nat, nat, nat (Nat)\nI'm on lean, I get high, she on batch, I can't match (Nah)\nI got fiends in a line, shippin' the packs out the back\nI did the impossible (Hoo)\nI read the defense, then I had called an audible (Switch)\nLook like a sequence, Lambo' keep back to back crawlin' in (Skrrt)\nThey said I wouldn't be shit, so fuck it, I had to go hard again (Fuck it)\n300, Sparta man (Sparta)\nI'm a barbarian (Barbarian), I'ma get my revenge (Mine)\nFuck on a thot and not at the spot, don't tell her what car I'm in (No)\nKeepin' my head above the water just like a shark fin (Shark)\nWe got the narcs in (Narcs), chopper Clark Kent (Graow)\nDon't get boxed in (Hey)\nYou know I ain't come to play, let's get it (Turn me up)\nI'm snappin' off the rip, your ho say I'm her favorite nigga (Hah)\nYou probably don't wan' let your baby mama take a picture (Why? Go Grizz)\n'Cause I'm the type of Baby that's gon' fuck the babysitter (Marii Beatz, turn me up)\nI just did a show and pulled off laughin' on a hatin' nigga (Hah)\nThem bitches aimin' at y'all fast, I'm on these rapper niggas' ass\nI pulled that .40 out, he better have an angel with him\nFuck all them niggas and whoever they got hangin' with 'em, bitch"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsBeatbox Freestyle Lyrics\nBest motherfuckin' rapper, nigga\nThis Baby, nigga, let's go\n\nReady to get it started, nigga (Go)\nWhenever you want it\nI was the man with the plan since a shawty\nPull up to the Grammy Awards with my .40 (Damn E, this shit exclusive)\nShe told me she like how I'm dressin' and I ain't eatin' no salad (Uh-huh)\nStevie Wonder can see that I'm havin'\nI told her, \"Be patient,\" she waited\nI gave her the dick, she walked out doin' the \"Beat Box Challenge\"\nLike yeah, get in th\u0435re, baby (Get in ther\u0435)\nYou know me, hit you anywhere, baby (Let's go)\nKnow she gon' do whatever I say\nI could piss in a cup, call it lemonade, baby\nLet that bitch off, I'm a renegade, baby\nI'ma get outta there, I ain't feelin' that (Huh?)\nNigga run up on me with a cellphone out\nHe gon' fuck around, die on the internet (Doo-doo-doo-doo)\nFuck it, kill him on IG Live\nLet the whole world see the nigga die (Die)\nYeah, shout-out to SpotEm', we got 'em (Get down)\nEven though he a rapper, he shot him\nI get this big pretty-ass smile from my mama (Cheese)\nGet this motherfuckin' voice from my daddy\nI learned how to pimp on them hoes from my uncle (Pimp, pimp)\nLet her suck on my toes 'cause I'm nasty (Okay)\nLike fuck it, she asked me to do it\nPlay with me, I'ma actually shoot you\nMost of these niggas be cap and we knew it\nThese niggas drop shit and we laugh at they music\nI know how to murder these niggas with kindness\nFuckin' they bitch from the back, how I do it\nI buy a Cuban and fill it with diamonds\nSend my assistant to pick up some condoms\nInstagram model at the hotel textin' me now\nWant me to give her the Johnson\nDamn, that nigga Baby on fire and it won't go out\nThey know that lil' nigga's a problem\nGot a big .45 on decock (Go)\nUsin' big words like I'm T.I. (Turn up)\nDon't wanna get me started, nigga\nTurn me up, niggas gon' see why\nNigga, you a bitch, JoJo Siwa (Bitch)\nYou let the wrong nigga get rich\nBoth of these chains on my neck, they compete with each other\nThey fightin' and throwin' a fit\nKnow how these hoes like to argue and beef with each other\nShe fightin' now, over the dick\nYou should already know you ain't searchin' DaBaby\n'Cause that nigga like to come in with the stick\nI don't like to get into the mix (No)\nI done got paid in full, my nigga\nI get them hoes like I'm Mitch\nEven got white people all on my dick (Go)\nYeah, second year, six-time Grammy-nominated\nCame through turnt up, everybody hated\nBefore I had my first M, it was Billion Dollar Baby\nHe bet the house and his self like Las Vegas (Go)\nYou want the shit? Gotta earn it\nHe off the leash, he don't think he can get murdered\nKnow how to swim, so I fuck with who fuckin' with me\nI take a bridge and I burn it\nLet me see if you can swim, lil' nigga\nShit gettin' out of hand, I just parked a new Benz\nHopped in a new Benz, lil' nigga (Let's go)\nAnd Ion't want new friends\nYou might also like\n(That ain't DaBaby, that's my baby)\nYeah, yeah, they say they want that old shit back, you know (Said that, make that, stand on that)\nI told 'em, don't get me started, nigga\nThey say they want that Baby Jesus, put me in that mode (Yeah, get that Baby Jesus)\nYou know, I'm tryna enjoy this bread (Go)\nYou know, be fancy and shit, be mainstream and shit, you know, you know? (Fasho)\nThey said I went commercial, like I still won't come up off the hip and hurt you\nBitch ass nigga\nAight, man, it's 6:55 in the mornin', man, shit"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsROCKSTAR (BLM Remix) Lyrics\nEven if I told you, still wouldn't understand what happened\nRather be myself, if people look\u2005at\u2005me, don't matter\nA\u2005rockstar, nigga, just tryna keep it\u2005kosher\nTry to keep my eyes on my own paper like\u205fmy\u205fteachers\u205ftold me\nSoon as\u205fniggas think it's\u205fover (Poof)\nNumber one on the charts, I'm there vicariously\nOh, there they go\nBiasedly pushin' negative narratives, I'm ready, though\nCops wanna pull me over, embarrass me\nAbusin' power, you never knew me, thought I was arrogant\nAs a juvenile, police pulled their guns like they scared of me\nAnd we're used to how crackers treat us, now that's the scary thing\nWant anything we good at and we cherish it\nNow we all fed up and niggas comin' back for everything\nRockstars, nigga, just watch the news, they burnin' cop cars, nigga\nKill another nigga, break the law, then call us outlaws, nigga\nWhat happened? Want us to keep it peaceful\nShoulda seen them hatin' bitches face when I bought that Lamborghini (SethInTheKitchen)\nThrow up my middle finger, police can't catch me, this a\n\nBrand new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car\nWith the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nHave you ever met a real nigga rockstar? (Yeah)\nThis ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (Woo)\nMy Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (Woo)\nYou better let me go the day you need me (Woo)\nSoon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (Woo)\nAnd if I ain't enough, go get the chop\nYou might also like\nIt's safe to say I earned it, ain't a nigga gave me nothin' (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI'm ready to hop out on a nigga, get to bustin'\nKnow you heard me say, \"You play, you lay,\" don't make me push the button\nFull of pain, dropped enough tears to fill up a fuckin' bucket\nGoin' for buckets, I bought a chopper\nI got a big drum, it hold a hundred, ain't goin' for nothin'\nI'm ready to air it out on all these niggas, I can see 'em runnin'\nJust talked to my mama, she hit me on FaceTime just to check up on me and my brother\nI'm really the baby, she know that her youngest son was always guaranteed to get the money (Okay, let's go)\nShe know that her baby boy was always guaranteed to get the loot\nShe know what I do, she know 'fore I run from a nigga, I'ma pull it out and shoot (Boom)\nPTSD, I'm always waking up in cold sweats like I got the flu\nMy daughter a G, she saw me kill a nigga in front of her before the age of two\nAnd I'll kill another nigga too\n'Fore I let another nigga do somethin' to you\nLong as you know that, don't let nobody tell you different\nDaddy love you (Yeah, yeah)\nLet's go\nBrand new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car\nWith the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nHave you ever met a real nigga rockstar? (Yeah)\nThis ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (Woo)\nMy Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (Woo)\nYou better let me go the day you need me (Woo)\nSoon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (Woo, yeah)\nAnd if I ain't enough, go get the chop (Yeah, yeah)\nKeep a Glocky when I ride in the Suburban\n'Cause the codeine had a young nigga swervin'\nI got the mop, watch me wash 'em like detergent\nAnd I'm ballin', that's why it's diamonds on my jersey\nSlide on opps' side and flip the block back, yeah, yeah\nMy junior popped him and left him lopsided, yeah, yeah\nWe spin his block, got the rebound, Dennis Rodman\nFool me one time, you can't cross me again\nTwelve hundred horsepower, I get lost in the wind\nIf he talkin' on the yard, the pen' dogs'll take his chin\nMaybach SUV for my refugees\nBuy blocks in the hood, put money in the streets\nI was solo when the opps caught me at the gas station\nHad it on me, thirty thousand, thought it was my last day\nBut they ain't even want no smoke\nIf I had to choose it, murder what she wrote\nLet's go\nBrand new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car\nWith the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nHave you ever met a real nigga rockstar? (Yeah)\nThis ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (Woo)\nMy Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (Woo)\nYou better let me go the day you need me (Woo)\nSoon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (Woo)\nAnd if I ain't enough, go get the chop"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olJUMP Lyrics\n(Cha-ching)\nOkay, let's go, nigga\n(Rocco did it again)\nWait a minute, who are you? (Ayy, yo, K.i.D.)\n\nI\u2005make\u2005it jump like,\u2005like crack in the '80s\nBaby, these\u2005bitch ass niggas ain't crazy\nBroke ass, ASCAP go straight to\u205fmy\u205fbaby\n(Hold\u205fon, Lil Top,\u205ftalk to 'em,\u205fnigga)\nAnd I'll make my bitch talk to me when we fuckin' (Talk back)\nBig rocks on my wrist, I bust it (Bling)\nBig Glock on my hip, I'm clutchin' (Let's go)\nGet lost on a bitch, ain't nothin'\n\nShe say I look good, bitch, I been doin' pushups\nPlay with Baby and Top, nigga, good luck\nMy lil' daughter two, but got six figures put up\nKnock his head off his neck 'fore he look up\nTen toes in they chest for a check, bitch, I stood up (What that mean?)\nI stood up on they neck for a check (Uh-huh)\nNow my head get 'em stressed, I'm a vet\nI get 300K for a show, bitch, I'm blessed\nYou might also like\nGo to trippin' and buckin', them hoes get down\nI spray it, I don't go no handles (Bah, baow)\nWe be pullin' up back to back, play, we gon' handle that\nI'ma walk in with Three and Montana\nGo to buckin', won't wait for to touch him\nHe start it, you know he gon' get his shit canceled (Cancel his ass)\nPut that stick to your face, screamin' out 4KTrey\nFrom the north of Baton Rouge to Atlanta\nTalk out his top, put them bands on him, bitch (The fuck?)\nI be runnin' my city, the police don't like it\nThey know we be steppin' on shit (Steppin' on shit)\nPut that blick on your brother, you feelin' some way\nMake him hot, tell him dig up the bitch (Dig up the bitch)\nShoot two hundred, bet one, how you livin', lil' nigga?\nYou know I be havin' this shit (Stupid lil' nigga)\nParanoid every day, I be feelin' some way\nWhen you bring up the static and shit\n\nSwitch the channel, we fixin' that static (Let's switch)\nGive a nigga a clip, he can have it\nGet to hittin' so quick, they think it's automatic (Boom, boom, let's go)\nNigga gon' try to hide in the house\nGet his ass to come out, hit his bitch ass in traffic (Like boom)\nMade a song in ten minutes, went platinum\nKnow we still with the shits, send a hit, we get active (Yeah)\nMention YB and Baby, the game in the padlock (Yeah)\nMy lil' bitch got that ass with no waist, pretty face\nA six-pack, niggas think she got ass shots\nI hit her from the back 'til we pass out (Uh-huh)\nI Kurt Angle that ho, put her leg in the air, ankle lock\nHold that bitch 'til she tap out (Bitch)\nBe one deep on your street with that strap out (One deep)\nFuck a rapper, let's see what that rack 'bout\nGot a brand new pistol, nigga\nI make it jump like, like crack in the '80s\nBaby, these bitch ass niggas ain't crazy\nBroke ass, ASCAP go straight to my baby\n(Hold on, Lil Top, talk to 'em, nigga)\nAnd I'll make my bitch talk to me when we fuckin' (Talk back)\nBig rocks on my wrist, I bust it (Bling)\nBig Glock on my hip, I'm clutchin' (Let's go)\nGet lost on a bitch, ain't nothin'\n\nMic check, one-two, check one, stretch two\nWhen it come to murder, you know how we do\nWhen I walk in this bitch, keep your hands to yourself\nIt go down, shoot it up, spin again in a coupe (Bang, bang)\nWhen you come to my house, you see everything new\nYou probably'll find a strap in every room\nI went bought me a Rollie on top of this Patek\nBut, bitch, it ain't on, I'ma jump out with two\nShorty say she on me, yeah\nWe be on her ass soon as I walk in the room\nNigga don't know me, yeah, we be on his ass\nStalk him all through the day to the moon\nStreet nigga, I don't never pick and choose\nI be totin' on somethin' make all them bitch niggas move (Pussy)\nSoon as we run down, we gon' dirt him\nYou know it ain't certain, we never be leavin' no clues, nigga\nHold on, I'm Lil Top, nigga, believe that\n\nI make it jump like, like crack in the '80s\nBaby, these bitch ass niggas ain't crazy\nBroke ass, ASCAP go straight to my baby\n(Hold on, Lil Top, talk to 'em, nigga)\nAnd I'll make my bitch talk to me when we fuckin' (Talk back)\nBig rocks on my wrist, I bust it (Bling)\nBig Glock on my hip, I'm clutchin' (Let's go)\nGet lost on a bitch, ain't nothin'\n\nI make it jump like I'm Giannis (Just honest)\nTryna see how it feel from behind her (Let's go)\nKnow that lil' bitch ain't shit, don't deserve to suck dick\nMake that bitch give me head with a condom (Uh-huh)\nWanna gamble and crap out, let's get it\nWe put racks on his motherfuckin' cap like a fitted (No cap)\nBaby pull up 2020, hop out like it's nothin'\nThat lil' nigga stuntin', he shittin' (Vroom)\nI get high by myself in the skybox (Yeah)\nI came out the house, two F&N's for the day (Two)\nWhy you bring 'em both out? Nigga, why not? (Why?)\nLet 'em go like a pro, let 'em try now (Let's try)\nI can't go like a ho, I'ma bond out (Bitch)\nSend my bro, up the score, let 'em find out (Up)\nPick my boo up from school and we sign out (Mwah)\nAny ho that get rude gettin' timeout, talk to 'em, nigga\n\nI make it jump like, like crack in the '80s\nBaby, these bitch ass niggas ain't crazy\nBroke ass, ASCAP go straight to my baby\n(Hold on, Lil Top, talk to 'em, nigga)\nAnd I'll make my bitch talk to me when we fuckin' (Talk back)\nBig rocks on my wrist, I bust it (Bling)\nBig Glock on my hip, I'm clutchin' (Let's go)\nGet lost on a bitch, ain't nothin', bitch\n\nBlame it on Baby, nigga, yeah\nBlame it on motherfuckin' Baby, nigga, blame it on Baby, nigga\nBlame it on Baby\nYeah, let's go"}
{"text":"42 Contributors21 Lyrics\nHow she only 21?\nTake that off, take that off\nOh Lord, Jetson made another one\nAyy\n\nHow she only 21 and she a savage? (Yeah)\nMy bitch so bad, she make my other bitch look average (Ayy)\nI'm talkin' nasty, I call her my lil' bad bitch (Uh)\nShe call me daddy, but I am not her daddy (Ayy)\nHow she only 21 and she a savage? (Uh)\nMy bitch so bad she make my other bitch look average (Uh)\nI'm talkin' nasty, I call her my lil' bad bitch (Ayy)\nShe call me daddy, but I am not her daddy\n\nWho you know to sign a label deal and still don't need her? (Ayy)\nWhat y'all playin' for the pole? 'Cause I got cheaper reefer (Uh, uh)\nI be strapped up at my show, you know I keep a heater (Ayy)\nBlowin' loud to keep a flow 'cause all these people demons (Hey)\nWhen I was down, I was on my own, now all these people need me (Need me)\nI had to branch off on my own, too many people leechin' (Uh)\nAnd I don't like no leeches (Uh), no, I don't like no leeches (Uh)\nWhen I like five years old (Old), I used to like my teacher (Ayy) Food out there, I'm eatin' (Eat), I made this freak turn freak (Freak)\nThat's really me, come see me (Me), you know it's a fee for features (Uh)\nYou might also like\nShe told me that she 21 (One)\nHer record still clean and she young (Young)\nI looked the bitch dead in her eyes (Uh)\nTold her go get some more legal guns, I need that (Ayy, ayy)\n\nHow she only 21 and she a savage? (Yeah)\nMy bitch so bad, she make my other bitch look average (Ayy)\nI'm talkin' nasty, I call her my lil' bad bitch (Uh)\nShe call me daddy, but I am not her daddy (Ayy)\nHow she only 21 and she a savage? (Uh)\nMy bitch so bad she make my other bitch look average (Uh)\nI'm talkin' nasty, I call her my lil' bad bitch (Ayy)\nShe call me daddy, but I am not her daddy\n\nCan't do another other, got it for me, baby (Uh)\n'Cause I am not your daddy, I'm Da-fuckin'-Baby (Hey)\nI still remember back when we ain't have no money, baby (Uh)\nHad to act like I was watchin' somethin', wasn't no cable (Hey)\nI saw the screen, it was blue (Blue), I ain't have no AC it was hot (Hot)\nBut now you can reach in my pockets (Yeah), and pull out a motherfuckin' knot (Yeah)\nNo, they can't stand how I'm rockin' (Yeah), I know I'm the man, I'm so cocky (Ayy)\nAnd we done hit all of these hoes, if she from the city, we got her (Ayy)\nYou better come get him, we got him (Ayy), he tried to come get me, I shot him (Yeah)\nI'm still in the city, ain't hidin' (Yeah)\nTouch one of my niggas, we ridin' (Ayy)\nShe told me that she 21 (One)\nHer record still clean and young (Young)\nI looked the bitch dead in her eyes (Huh)\nTold her go get some more legal guns, I need that (Ayy, ayy)\n\nHow she only 21 and she a savage? (Yeah)\nMy bitch so bad, she make my other bitch look average (Ayy)\nI'm talkin' nasty, I call her my lil' bad bitch (Uh)\nShe call me daddy, but I am not her daddy (Ayy)\nHow she only 21 and she a savage? (Uh)\nMy bitch so bad she make my other bitch look average (Uh)\nI'm talkin' nasty, I call her my lil' bad bitch (Ayy)\nShe call me daddy, but I am not her daddy"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsFIND MY WAY Lyrics\nWait a minute, who are you? (Ayy, yo, K.i.D)\n\nI keep it loaded when I ride\u2005'cause\u2005I'm still a\u2005nigga\nI fuck with her to ease\u2005my mind, 'cause I be in my feelings\nAnd every single\u205fperson\u205fin\u205fmy life tell\u205fme I'm their\u205fhero\nBut when it's up and then go down, they treat me like the villain\nGuess I forgot to mention\nI'm just a nigga with a broken heart tryna find my way back home\nAnd I'm sittin' here with the car in park while she ride dick to my song\n\nOoh, I know the feelin', ain't it? (Okay)\nYou ever feel the way I feel, you know it feel amazin' (Let's go)\nI had this bitch, we used to kick it, she was feelin' Baby (Mwah, mwah, mwah)\nShe stepped on my heart, had me feelin' basic (Damn)\nYou know how people like to come back when you level up (Uh-huh)\nI made a change, you stayed the same, I got ahead of ya\nPlus I been tryin' to free some time up in my schedule, but (Uh-huh)\nWhen opportunity knockin', I never say no\n'Cause I been busy catchin' them blessings I used to pray for (Let's go)\nStackin' up the backend like Tetris, we playin' Legos\nAnd every day I pray to God that a nigga don't try to play, though\n'Cause I don't like to play, be done gave a nigga a halo (Boom, boom, boom)\nThinkin' 'bout the people I lost, know I got some angels\nChillin' with my freak, when we fuckin', it ease my anger\nI'm takin' selfies with my bitch, she keep switchin' up different angles\nAnd no, I never kept a bitch, but I always keep me a banger (Boom, boom, boom)\nYou might also like\nI keep it loaded when I ride 'cause I'm still a nigga (Ah)\nI fuck with her to ease my mind, 'cause I be in my feelings\nAnd every single person in my life tell me I'm their hero\nBut when it's up and then go down, they treat me like the villain\nGuess I forgot to mention\nI'm just a nigga with a broken heart tryna find my way back home\nAnd I'm sittin' here with the car in park while she ride dick to my song\n\nOoh, I let her ride again\nShe spread her legs and open up, I end up slidin' in (Okay)\nShe know the shit excitin' you is not excitin' him (Me)\nShe swallow me up every mornin' like a vitamin (Yup)\nHe know to come look where I'm at, he wanna find her, shit (She with me)\nKnow I'm aggressive, when she kiss me, like to bite her lip (Grr)\nI don't be makin' love songs, they don't excite a jit (No)\nReal nigga, I got feelings, I'm not hiding it (Yeah, okay, let's go)\nStill pimpin', tell the bitch I really like her friend (Yeah, bitch)\nYou know her pussy good 'cause I be tryna fly her in (Yeah, bitch)\nIf I speak once, she don't respond, I won't say hi again (Bitch)\nShe catch me once and let me slide, I never lie again (Let's go)\nMy name not Melly, I got murder on my mind again (Uh-huh)\nI'm with the shits, I'd kill him twice if he could die again\nAnd if he think 'bout tryin' me, he better try again\n'Cause I'ma let 'em spin, if he don't drop, then we gon' slide again (Doo-doo-doo-doo)\nI keep it loaded when I ride 'cause I'm still a nigga (Ah)\nI fuck with her to ease my mind, 'cause I be in my feelings\nAnd every single person in my life tell me I'm their hero\nBut when it's up and then go down, they treat me like the villain\nGuess I forgot to mention\nI'm just a nigga with a broken heart tryna find my way back home\nAnd I'm sittin' here with the car in park while she ride dick to my song (Bitch)"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsWalker Texas Ranger Lyrics\nUh\nFuck you talkin' 'bout, nigga\nI got 20 on my beat\nYeah, uh\nThat ain't DaBaby, that's my baby\nAyy, who you?\n\nBitch, it's DaBaby, what you heard about me? (Uh)\nI put that nigga up, now niggas actin' nervous 'round me (Yeah)\nI'm in the rental truck sticked up like Walker Texas Ranger (Bitch)\nI'm on my grind like fuck a bitch, I'll get some pussy later (Huh)\n\nDon't even call my phone, you used to be a hater (Huh)\nCould have fucked your bitch, nigga (Yeah), she made my dick soft (Huh)\nI left from the jail, had like 336 missed calls (Brrt)\nOh, they wanna check on me now (Huh), you don't really love me admit it (Bitch)\nI'm with a bitch from the west side of town, I like my hoes ghetto and pretty\nI got that iron and I pull it out now, you ain't the only one with it (Boom)\nI'm tryna go get the cake for my daughter like it's her birthday, can you dig it? (Can you dig it)\nThey tell me they like how I do my lil' dance, I can't really dance, I be jiggin' (For real)\nAnd I'm 'bout to hop on a flight out to Cali, free Doshman, they got him in prison (Free)\nI gotta go sit down and meet with a label, they better be talkin' some millions (Millions)\nAnd if not, I'll go check on the price of the pounds, blow it down and fly back to the city\nLike fuck it, let's get back to work (Okay)\nBlow a kiss at a bitch, I'm a flirt (Mwah)\nNigga play with my people, I gotta get even\nHe might as well pick out a shirt (Yeah)\nLike check this out, listen to me (Ayy, look)\nThat's where your picture gon' be (Hah)\nThey know I'm a dog and I'm off the leash\nI flick off a bitch like a flea (Rrr)\nYou gotta get out of here, Jack (Get out)\nSee a broke ho and act like I'm blind (What you do?)\nGeorgia, Georgia, I cannot give you a dime\nIt ain't like Atlanta, I came out of Charlotte, you know that shit took me some time (Okay)\nAnd I hold up the family, you wanna be me then you better go get on your grind (Yeah)\nWhat you gon' say at the Grammy's?\nShout out to God and my daughter and shout out my mom\nAnd oh, yeah...\nYou might also like\nBitch, it's DaBaby, what you heard about me? (What you heard?)\nI put that nigga up, now niggas actin' nervous 'round me (Up)\nI'm in the rental truck sticked up like Walker Texas Ranger (I got the sticks)\nI'm on my grind like fuck a bitch, I'll get some pussy later\n\nThis pussy bitch done tried to bring the pussy to the table\nCan't even get shit in your name, can't even get no cable (What the fuck?)\nI was at the bottom when it rained, I held it down, no anchor (Yeah, yeah)\nShe did me wrong, sucked my dick and treat me like a stranger (Goddamn)\nAin't gotta get love from no bitch, I get love from my baby\nIf your boyfriend anything like daddy, nigga gettin' strangled (Play with my baby, nigga)\n\nBitch, it's DaBaby, what you heard about me? (What you heard?)\nI put that nigga up, now niggas actin' nervous 'round me (Uh uh)\nI'm in the rental truck sticked up like Walker Texas Ranger (I got the stick)\nI'm on my grind like fuck a bitch, I'll get some pussy later (Huh, bitch)\n\nLike, like I don't want no pussy (I don't want that)\nNo, no, I don't want it, no (No)\nNo means no\nI don't want that (No, I don't want that)\nI'll let you suck my dick though if that's what you\u2014if you cool with that\nYou fuckin' with that?\nThat ain't DaBaby, that's my baby"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsToday Lyrics\nAh, bitch (Hahaha, yeah, Baby Talk 5)\nFuck a nigga mean, nigga? (Baby Talk 5)\nFuck you talkin' 'bout? (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nI'm on they ass today, I just went and picked me up a bag today\nI pulled up on the scene with a bad lil' bae (Ooh)\nShe got a fat ass, when I smash, it shake (Ooh)\nSmackin' her ass, playin' patty cake (Ah)\nShut the fuck up, do what daddy say\nI think I got lil' baby mad at me (Huh?)\n\nFucked up her hair, she look bad today\nTold her, \"Hop in the whip, we can go get it fixed\"\nI'ma drop the bitch off with my sis, she the shit\nAs soon as she done with that nappy ass hair, you can call up your boy to come pick up his bitch (Brrt, damn)\nLook at my wrist, that's a brick, I just fucked up my Rolex, but fuck it, it's lit (Damn)\nI don't give a fuck 'bout no fame or no chain, ain't no jewelry, put me on the lick (Damn)\nI just went sat with the label (Huh?)\nNiggas offered me a contract (What happened?)\nTold them niggas, \"I ain't want it\" (Why?)\nThe shit was wack, I didn't sign that (Uh)\nI'm the best, but never mind that (Okay)\nMy shit so hard that they rewind that (Ah)\nGot that work if you can't find that (Huh?)\nYou can't afford it, we can finance\nI got one foot in the trap, got one foot up they ass, ditch your coat on the rap\nGot my dick in your bitch, she be bendin' it over and bustin' it open and throwin' it back\nI'm tryna go fuck her buddy\nFuck all these hoes, 'cause they don't really love me\nI'm tryna get me some motherfuckin' money\nIf they free Meek Mill, why they ain't free my cousin?\nI bet we shoot up your motherfuckin' party if somebody touch me or one of my brothers\nI bet won't none of these niggas that talk on the internet try me, they see me in public\nI bet they play all my motherfuckin' teachin'\nBitch, I don't rap, I be motherfuckin' preachin'\nI bet you paid for that motherfuckin' show and I bet you paid for that motherfuckin' feature (Bitch)\nYou might also like\nI'm on they ass today, I just went and picked me up a bag today\nI pulled up on the scene with a bad lil' bae (Huh? Huh?)\nShe got a fat ass, when I smash, it shake\nSmackin' her ass, playin' patty cake\nShut the fuck up, do what daddy say\nI think I got lil' baby mad at me\n\nFuck it, let's go to the bank\nI'm 'bout to motherfuckin' blank (Blank, blank, blank)\nMy name hold weight, I got motherfuckin' rank\nI'm in the rental with my brother Thank\nWe tryna eat, where our motherfuckin' plate? (Ha)\nIt's been there with me, y'all just motherfuckin' late\nI need that shit now, I can't motherfuckin' wait\nI bet you act like you motherfuckin' know\nI put this .45 on your motherfuckin' face, bitch\n\nI'm on they ass today, I just went and picked me up a bag today (Huh? Huh?)\nI pulled up on the scene with a bad lil' bae (Skrrt)\nShe got a fat ass, when I smash, it shake (Uh-huh)\nSmackin' her ass, playin' patty cake\nShut the fuck up, do what daddy say\nI think I got lil' baby mad at me\nHuh?\nHahaha, fuck you talkin' 'bout, nigga? Huh?\nDaBaby, DaBaby, DaBaby, DaBaby\nBitch, Baby Talk "}
{"text":"57 ContributorsNASTY Lyrics\nShe know I'm nasty (Yeah)\nShe like when I pull it out and I put it\u2005all\u2005over her ass\u2005cheeks (Like, uh, ooh)\nAnd she don't\u2005gotta ask me (C'mon)\nYeah, I want head before we fuck and I want it nasty\nShe like when I tell her to spit on it (Like, psh)\nI get that mouth and I sit on the couch and I make her sit on it (Let's go)\nYeah, I was that lil' nigga that could take a bitch from his big homie\nEspecially if she flexible, I flex her\nI take both her legs and I put 'em behind her head like she a pretzel\nThen I pick her up and I slam her down on her head like I'm a wrestler\nLike mm, tryna kill the pussy, call the ambulance, get a stretcher\nI be fucking his bitch while he ain't at home\nAnd she got them pics of me in her phone\nKnow that man a fool if he don't leave\n'Cause bitch can't leave a nigga alone, she call me\n\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby\nWe got London On Da Track\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby\nShe ain't fuckin' you better than I am\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby, ooh, oh-woah\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby (Real hot girl shit)\nOoh, the shit will never feel the same, yeah (Ahh)\nYou might also like\nQuit talking that shit, when I drop that pin, come drop that dick (Come drop that dick)\nHe deep in them covers, this pussy like butter, he put it in, damn near nutted (Yeah)\nHe know he made it, he fuckin' on Megan, it's driving his last ho crazy\nI like to talk shit when I fuck, I need a rough nigga like DaBaby (Haa, haa, haa, haa)\nWhen he hit the city, he gon' tap in, he gon' fly me out to put it back in\nAnd I ain't trippin' when a nigga pull my hair, 'cause he gon' pay for it to put it back in\nI put one leg on the headboard and leave the other leg on the mattress\nLook down at him while he smackin', get them headshots like an actress (Haa)\n\nYeah, my baby like to act up when we fuckin' (Uh-huh)\nAggressive freak, she tell me to smack her when we fuckin'\nI started to laugh, she said \"What's funny?\"\nShe throwing that ass, she said \"Quit running\"\nI'm holding it back, 'cause I don't wanna nut quick, but fuck it\nReally got nothing to hide, she know what I'm what's up with\nMe, we started at 12:30 and fucking 'til three\nIt's hot, I'm sweating out bullets on her, I need something to drink\nFeel like a workout, don't it? (Uh-huh)\nI'm doing my push-ups in that pussy\nWe getting our work out on it (Mm-mm)\nI put a bath towel on the bed, just so she can squirt all on it\nLike fwoosh, told you to stretch, now it hurt, now don't it? (Uh-huh)\nShe said, \"Fuck if it hurts, I want it\", I'm on it\nShe like when I take a pill and take her under (Let's go)\nI fucked that bitch so good, she prolly ain't even save ya number (Yeah)\nLike \"Boom, boom, boom\", lay the thunder\nMm, mm, say she wanna be my baby mama\nGirl, you on the right track, yeah\nI put it in her face, she say she like that, yeah (Brr), she call me\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby\nI make him spend it all, this boy done fell in love\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby\nOoh, he fiendin', he can't get enough, no, no\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby\nBaby, baby, oh-oh-oh-oh\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby\nOoh, he comin' when I say his name, yeah\n\nSometimes I just want you to slide right in (Slide right in)\nPick me up and put these thighs around your neck (Thighs around your neck)\nHe mesmerized, tattoed his mind, he won't forget\nDaBaby tryna have a threesome with 'Shanti and Megan, ayy\n\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby, oh, oh\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby\nOoh, he love it when I say his name, let me say, yeah, yeah, yeah\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby\nBaby, baby, oh-oh-oh-oh\nBaby, baby, baby, baby, baby\nOoh, he love it when I say his name, yeah, yeah\n\nBaby, baby\nBaby, baby\nOoh, he love it when I say his name, yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsOFF THE RIP Lyrics\nStraight off the rip, you know I don't wait for the drop (Off the rip)\nI\u2005go\u2005out to eat\u2005with my kids and my mama,\u2005you know I ain't datin' no thot (Okay, let's go)\nBelieve what you see, nigga\nI can't name a rapper that's out here and breathin' that's fuckin' with me, nigga (Uh, uh)\nI'm takin' they hoes, Forces, Adidas pants and a tee, nigga (What the fuck?)\nThey like how? That don't even match\nOkay, hold on, take my phone, baby\nLet's go\n\nI'm just a lil' nigga from Charlotte, the biggest new artist (The four)\nThey wanna see me up the road, but my lawyer a fool with dismissin' the charges (Hah)\nYou know BDB ENT, we gon' pull up Infinitis, Challengers, Chargers (Okay)\nAnd no, we don't gotta get money with you, bitch, we gon' get money regardless (Huh)\nI'ma let you do all of the talkin'\nDon't get me started, you know I'ma stop it (Go 'head and talk)\nAnd I don't got a cent for a ho\nShe bringin' up money, I'm changin' the topic (Huh, huh)\nShe need to be talkin' 'bout suckin' some dick\nI nut in her mouth and she gargle (Ew, ew)\nIf she spit out that rich nigga shit without swallowin', me and her havin' some problems (Bitch)\nWe havin' revolvers strictly for murder and plenty of pistols and choppers (Clack, clack)\nAyy, when you gon' stop?\nWhenever the fat lady sing, I don't listen to opera (Ooh, ooh)\nYou know how I give it up\nFuck around, fucked up my hand, beat a nigga up\nPull off on a nigga like vroom\nHe don't got a car, he still catchin' the city bus (Hah)\nHis baby mama unemployed\nSo she in the club with her ass and her titties out (Uh, uh, uh, uh)\nAnd we done robbed so many plugs\nYou better check and go ask what my city 'bout\nHad to slide the nigga bitch a dub\nWanted to fuck me but I only hit her mouth (No cap)\nTake the palm of my hand, slap me a nigga\nGot somethin' to say, make 'em spit it out\nYou knowin' 'bout Baby\nAll the shit that nigga rappin' 'bout, that nigga really 'bout\nAnd no, I ain't takin' advice from a nigga\nI'm cool on that, I got it figured out\nThese niggas be cryin' 'bout petty shit\nI can't relate because I took a bigger loss\nAnd these niggas know I been a boss\nEver since Rick Ross was the biggest boss (Yeah, yeah)\nGot diamonds all over my teeth\nI been eatin' chicken, I need me some dental floss\nHold my watch in the air\nIt's no longer hot, you can go turn the condition off\nI'm hittin' this ho on the low\nShe fuck with me hard, she say that her nigga soft (Huh)\nWhy you talkin' so low?\n'Cause if a nigga find out and he try me, I'm knockin' a nigga off\nI'm ridin' past 12, flyin' through fast as hell, flickin' a nigga off (Vroom, vroom)\nI'm revin' the gas, burnin' out on niggas' ass, I'm showin' my engine off (Hah)\nYou might also like\nHahaha\nAnd that's just how the fuck I get down, man, you know I just be playin' sometimes\nLike right now, like, I'm just fuckin' 'round, you know\nMe and kid, you know, we up in the penthouse, you know, kickin' shit\nAnd, uh, I'm still the best rapper\n\nStraight off the rip, you know I don't wait for the drop (Off the rip)\nI go out to eat with my kids and my mama, you know I ain't datin' no thot (Okay, let's go)\nBelieve what you see, nigga\nI can't name a rapper that's out here and breathin' that's fuckin' with me, nigga"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsXXL Lyrics\nI got 20 on my beat\n\nEverybody know my name ringin' bells\nRingin' bells like the hallway\u2005(Uh-huh)\nI\u2005ain't gotta cap\u2005in no mothafuckin' rap\nI'll whip out\u2005and air it out broad day (Mmm)\nI got in with that stick, and I'm with that\nBreak a nigga in half like a Kit-Kat (Uh-huh)\nI been tryna be positive, mama (Uh-huh)\nThey ain't fuckin' wit' Jonathan, mama (Nope)\nWho you know put they mothafuckin' self on the map\nAnd now they don't owe nobody shit? (Me)\nI send one of my lil' niggas, come take you off\nYou get laid on the floor by a jit (Ha)\nGot pulled over with fifty-five K in my pocket (Woo)\nThe police, they know I'm legit (Woo, woo)\nThe police, they know I got sticks\nThey be worried about me, they know I'm a clique\nThese niggas, they know I'm a dawg\nI ain't worried about him, I know he a bitch (Meow)\nThe next nigga that come play with me\nI'ma send him to go ask 2Pac for a pic, bitch\nThey say I'm the hottest new nigga\nGo check the thermometer, that nigga sick (Hot)\nNigga must have a fever or somethin'\nHeard he was born up in Cleveland or somethin' (Uh-huh)\nLet me give you a history lesson\nWe moved back to Charlotte, 1999 (Okay)\nI ain't sayin that none of that matter\n'Cause if somebody touch me, then somebody dyin' (No cap)\nWhy he talkin' so calm when he say that? (Huh?)\nHow he make 'em rewind and replay that? (Yeah)\nWho you know get a fade once a week and they tryna get waves?\nFuck a mothafuckin' wave-cap (Uh-huh)\nEvery time that the DJ play \"Suge\"\nNiggas throw up they arms like a mothafuckin' racetrack (Let's go)\nEvery time that my baby girl see me\nShe run and say \"Daddy\", I love when she say that (Mwah)\nEvery time I hit one of my moves\nAll the bitches go crazy, they like how I do that (Let's go)\nI keep one in the head, if I don't let off first\nI'ma dive to the side when I shoot back\nYeah, I'm comin' like Blade in this bitch (Ah)\nFuck around, and walked out in a trench coat\nThey gon' have to put me with the greats (Uh-huh)\nWanna fuck with me, she gotta wait (Bitch)\nOn the yacht, with me, me and the kids\nThere's four of us, we on the sea eatin' steak (Yep)\nI won't go back and forth with a shrimp\nYou goin out sad 'bout a ho, I'm a pimp (Ha)\nHe keep bumpin' his motherfuckin' gums\nWe gon put his ass up like a mothafuckin' blimp (Bitch)\nLike to talk on the pillow wit' hoes, that's gon' get him exposed\nHe a mothafuckin' simp (Hold up)\nYou know he got that thang on him, baby\nQuit askin' him why that boy walk with a limp (Shh, shh, shh)\nI don't care bout this mothafuckin' chain (Uh-huh)\nBut I'll still bust your mothafuckin' brain (Uh-huh)\nJust got head on a mothafuckin' plane (No cap)\nAin't no cap in my rap, I'm the truth (Ha)\nEnd up fuckin' this ho from the back\nI knew her for a day, she on go, she the swoop (Yeah, yeah, yeah, swoop)\nAnd these niggas ain't livin' like that\nWhy he talkin' so gangsta? Your bro, he a fluke (Fluke, fluke)\nThey know Baby gon' blow, he a flute (Flute)\nThey know Baby gon' blow, he the bomb (Boom)\nThey know Baby was just in Miami\nNow he in L.A., nigga think he LeBron (Ha)\nThey know Baby go baby on baby (Uh-huh)\nBut five years ago, nigga say he was John (Keep goin')\nI touch down at the front of the plane\nAnd the driver come pick up my Louis Vuitton (Them facts)\nWhile he drive me around, I be blowin' out pressure\nI'm chillin' backseat with the iron (Bitch)\nYou might also like\nAnd I'm done with this shit, man\nI'm one of the best mothafuckin' rappers, man (I'm fuckin' done with this shit, man)\nYou know (I'm done with this)\nBut I ain't gon' keep, you know, I mean, braggin' 'bout this\nI'm done with this one, I'm the best mothafuckin' rapper, man\nQuit playin' with Baby, man, do not play with me\nI'm just exercising, I'm just exercising my craft, that's it (I'm the best mothafuckin' rapper)\nAnd I'm not gonna keep sayin' this shit, (Yeah) I'm done sayin' this shit\nUh\nAnd I got 20 on my mothafuckin' beat, but this nigga can't engineer for shit\nI'm 'bout to make this nigga just start makin' beats and quit engineering\nA'ight, cut that shit off"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsBlank Blank Lyrics\n(That ain't DaBaby, that's my baby)\nUh, yeah, that muhfucker sound like a muhfuckin', uh, alarm clock or some shit, you know\nIt's alertin' you bitch ass niggas that, that I'm the muh'fuckin' best, yeah\nThe prettiest chocolate nigga alive, yeah, all that (Firzt on the track)\n(That ain't DaBaby, that's my baby)\n\nI ain't trippin' off another nigga, I'll be straight (Huh)\nAin't even got a chance to eat (Eat)\nI seen you lookin' at my plate (Ayy)\nYou know the bitches treat me great (Great)\nThey suck my dick and feed me grapes (Grapes)\nI'm on my way to get a bag (Ah)\nI'm fuckin' up, I'm runnin' late (Turn up)\n\nCan't let these niggas slow me down\nFuck waitin' on the label, had to drop a tape (Hey)\nI used to trip 'bout bitches fuckin' off\nBut I been fuckin' off so I been straight (Yeah)\nYou saving hoes, we need to make a movie 'bout you\nWear your mothafuckin' cape (Ha, ha)\nI tell your ho, \"We'll make a movie\"\nBut we're probably never goin' on a date (Ayy, ah)\nI'm motivated by the money, money motivate me\nI always got my mind on it (Mind)\nI went to jail because I tried to catch a flight\nAnd I forgot I had the iron on me (Yeah)\nI get the shit so cheap you think I drop a ticket\nBut really threw a extra five on it (Five)\nAnd everything a nigga drop be going crazy\nSounding like I took my time on it\nThrew a bag on the table, he thought it was ten pounds\nBut I really put nine on it (Ah)\nAnd half of them bitches was fake weed\nWhen he open them up he gon' hate me (Ha)\nI don't gotta rape bitches, they rape me\nBeat a rap nigga up like I'm AP\nThrow that rock in the air like I'm Jay-Z\nGot a Glock on me, now, and I still'll do it\nYou can't name five niggas in the rap game\nThat can come out with realer music\nStanding on anything that I ever said all alone\nAnd I still approve it\nYou know I shot your homeboy\nFucked your main bitch, robbed your partner, I did that\nAnd still get ya stepped on\nThe most slept on in the game, don't forget that, bitch\nYou might also like\nI ain't trippin' off another nigga, I'll be straight\n(Tell these niggas to quit fuckin' playin' with me)\nAin't even got a chance to eat\n(Man, I'm too raw in this shit, man)\nI seen you lookin' at my plate\n(And I'm the muhfuckin' prettiest chocolate nigga alive)\nYou know the bitches treat me great\n(What the fuck they gon do with me, huh?)\nThey suck my dick and feed me grapes\nI'm on my way to get a bag\n(What the fuck they gon do with me?)\nI'm fuckin' up, I'm runnin' late (Hey, ah)\n\nI just told my bitch that she gotta learn\nTo be nice to my side bitch\nYou gotta quit trippin' and callin' me private (Hey)\n'Cause all of my other lil' bitches don't like it (Brrt)\nYou know I'm a dog, babe, you know that I'm trifling\nBeen like this forever and you know you used to like it\nThat boom on my side and ya I call it my sidekick (Boom)\nI whip out and shoot it, just do it like Nike\nI pull out and swing that bitch ride on the crowd\nLike a ceiling fan (Yeah)\nYeah, we took the pounds from the middle man (Yeah)\nI got plenty of haters, got plenty fans (Yeah)\nBut a hater gon' hate, we don't give a damn (Ahh)\nGot my bitch making oodles o' noodles (Hah)\nPulled up with that tool in an Uber (Hah, Hah)\nI'm in the pool with a cougar (Yeah)\nThey only cool on computers (Turn up)\nThey told me I look better in real life (Okay)\nI don't care what a fuck nigga feel like (Yeah)\nI just went out to lunch with your bih tonight (Bitch)\nHad her back to the crib before midnight (Hah)\nI think I got more hoes than I realize\nI went, iced my Rollie, that's real ice\nAll in front of her friends and her momma (Hah)\nI still grab on her ass 'cause it feel nice\nAn'- bitch\nI ain't trippin' off another nigga, I'll be straight (Straight)\nAin't even got a chance to eat (Eat)\nI seen you lookin' at my plate (Plate)\nYou know the bitches treat me great (Great)\nThey suck my dick and feed me grapes (Grapes)\nI'm on my way to get a bag (Ahhh)\nI'm fuckin' up, I'm runnin' late\nBitch\n\nAnd I'm the muh'fuckin' best rapper, man\nYou know, the best rapper\nThe muhfuckin' real rock-starter\nThe prettiest chocolate nigga alive\nBest rapper\nI'm out\nThat ain't DaBaby, that's my baby"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsBLAME IT ON BABY Lyrics\nI'm like fuck it, let the beat build, nigga\nI do my own thing, ain\u2019t worry\u2005'bout\u2005how he feel\u2005nigga, let's go\nSpecial ed, yeah, I\u2019m\u2005a re-re nigga\nCan I get a re? (Ahem) Yeah, a\u205frefill,\u205fnigga\nYa\u205ffavorite rapper say\u205fhe fuckin' with\u205fBaby, somebody lied\nPlay with ya kids, 'cause the last nigga played me, somebody died (Yeah, yeah)\nPlayin' both sides, go play the victim, oh, now they cryin'\nI water park when I slip in my baby, she let me slide\nChocolate-ass nigga (Yeah), real nigga rockstar\nPlatinum sellin' popstar, poppin'-ass nigga (Pop)\nMy bitch is like a Barbie, woo like I'm Pop Smoke\nI lift up one leg when she drop that ass, nigga (Drop)\nShade Room, baby (Shade), shade who?\nEverybody blame you, you ballin\u2019 like you Babe Ruth, baby (Huh)\nBlame it on Baby, I let the beat build (Wait a minute, who are you?)\nOkay K.i.D, drop the beat and watch me take it home, baby (Let\u2019s go)\n\nI get chicken, no tender\nFine lil' bitches on Twitter\nDenyin\u2019 all these hoes on Insta\nBrand new drip\nI wear it one time like a nigga can't fit it\nBlame it on Baby, a greasy lil' nigga (Grease)\n\u200biPhone ringin', who is it? (Brr)\nProbably some lil\u2019 nigga bitch\nHe fuck with my old ho\nAnd he think he hurtin' my feelings, I already hit (Haa), psych\nHe must ain't heard about Baby\nHe must not know about Jon Jon\nI heard they shut down the airport\nHopped on a jet to LA, bitch, I'm ballin' like Bron-Bron\nBDB, we gon' cut up regardless\nI know I'm on top, I'm a target\nMy young nigga ballin' like Giannis\nYou play, we gon' pull up and shoot\nTop floor of the penthouse, biggest one still in Charlotte (Let's go)\nYou might also like\nI know these hoes gon' creep\nI'll never be a fool and think that she me\nI'm the type to let a ho do what she want\nI'm the type to let a bitch do what she please (Please)\nI ain't breakin' bread, I'm cheap\nNine out of ten of these niggas naive\nLame-ass nigga, might as well be a rat\nLettin' all these hoes run away with yo' cheese, (Slow down, slow down) please\n\nI'm startin' to think that y'all the police, nigga\nYou know that shit you see on IG, you don't know me, nigga, let's go\nYou crossed the line, gon' have to show me nigga\nThey be like \"Why you switched the beat\u200b?\" Because my flow neat, nigga\n\"I thought he couldn't switch the flow, how the hell he switchin' the beat up?\u201c\nThey don't know who they fuckin' with, do this shit with my feet up\nYawning on these niggas, sit back, go to sleep\nI get woke by a lil freak, with my dick in her mouth, she eat up\n300K in cash, probably still'll pull out a Visa\nAin't goin' on a date, tell a bitch to order a pizza\nGon' end up eatin' Domino's, I can't even lie\nI'm a player, I had all kind of hoes way before the designer clothes\nI put on a sweatsuit and leave with ya ho\nA whole arena full of people to see me at the show, you know?\nI rock the show and I lay low with my freak\nIt ain't too many rappers that can fuck with me, and she know, let's go\nI know these hoes gon' creep\nI'll never be a fool and think that she me\nI'm the type to let a ho do what she want\nI'm the type to let a bitch do what she please (Please)\nI ain't breakin' bread, I'm cheap\nNine out of ten of these niggas naive\nLame-ass nigga, might as well be a rat\nLettin' all these hoes run away with yo' cheese, please"}
{"text":"16 ContributorsPull Up Music Lyrics\n\nDifferent when it go so hard\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nUh (Hah)\nAyy, DaBaby, DaBaby, DaBaby, DaBaby\nI'm back on my Baby Jesus shit (Hah)\nThat ain't DaBaby, that's my baby\n\nLet me get back on my hustle, fuck a friend, it's off the muscle (Ha)\nYou smoking dick, you think I trust you? (Mhm)\nBurn a nigga like I'm Usher (Boom)\nI don't go back and forth all on the internet, have no interest for discussion (No)\nPull her hair and choke her while we fucking, I probably give her a concussion\nI need a plate and I ain't tryna wait, I'm so fucking hungry I could starve\nMy nigga snuck in with the rod, I'm 'bout whatever, that's on God\nI go to jail, I pay the bond, please don't waste my fucking time\nHate on me, I hit your ho (Ho), play with me, I get that iron\nCan we fucking keep a secret? That's a .40, bitch, I keep it (Boom)\nMy bitch a fucking Puerto Rican, I fuck her every other weekend\nThey swagger jacking, I can peep it, these nigga jacking my steelo\nBitch, it's a brick, it's a kilo (Brick), I beat a nigga up like Deebo\nHis bitch got at me on the d-low (Shh), I'm wit' my niggas shooting CeeLo\nWouldn't run up on me, that's a no-go (Brr), I keep it on me like it's legal, bitch\nYou might also like\nDaBaby, DaBaby, DaBaby, DaBaby\nHa\n\n\nThat ain't DaBaby, that's my baby\nFirzt on the track\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nAyy, yeah\n\nThey should've told you I'm coming, nigga play with me, I mop it (It's up)\nPull up on me, think I'm bluffing? Bust it on you, have you running (Brr)\nYour bitch can get it if she want it (Oh yeah)\nI'm killing your bitch from the back, I smack her ass and keep her coming (hey)\nAll my nigga, they a hundred, police behind me, I'm running (I'm gone)\nMy ho make your ho look ugly, I don't do dimes, I do twenties (For real)\nTwenty thousand on a Monday (Twenty), thirty thousand on a Tuesday\nCaught your bitch out on a Wednesday, she like my style, I had her choosing (Uh)\nSleep on me and then you losing, got a beam on the chopper (Boom)\nMake you lean when I pop it, got some lean from the doctor\nWherever you see me, I'm ready, my name hold weight, this shit heavy\nGot your bitch face in my lap, parked at the 7-Eleven\nYeah, we at pump number nine, this ain't no pump, this a iron\nThey ain't let me in with the .40, snuck in the back with the .9\nThese nigga be acting and lying, posting up statuses, crying\nThere really, really ain't no real niggas\nAnd I'm 'bout to light the bih line, ayy\nDaBaby"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsPOP STAR Lyrics\n(Pop star) They gon' tell you I went\nThey gon' tell you I went\nThey gon' tell\u2005you\u2005I went\nPop star\u2005(Pop star)\nWhat they gon' tell you?\u2005(Huh)\n\nThey prolly tell you I went pop (Huh?)\nUntil a nigga play with me and he get popped (Yeah)\nI'm on front row at BET without my Glock (Huh?)\nI'm ready to beat a nigga up like I'm The Rock (Let's go)\nAnd she ready to sweep a nigga up because he hot (Mm, mm)\nShe ready to eat a nigga up until he lock (Yeah)\nShe hit the brakes and speed it up like she a car (Hmm)\nNow she got her hands behind her head like I'm a cop (Huh)\nI told her \"Fuck the police\", yeah\n\nShe right beside me and she sendin' nudes (Let's go)\nYou fuck my bitch? That's cool, I'm fuckin' niggas bitches, too\nIf you try my shoes, they ain't gon' fit, man, you wear different shoes (Uh, uh)\nHad to dumb it down for them to bite, now it's time to switch the groove (Okay, okay)\nI pull up smooth wit' my lil' bae, but I coulda came wit' your boo (Uh-huh)\nIf you wit' the shit like I'm wit' the shit, when they play they gon' make the news (Yeah)\nI was in your sis on Sunday at your grandma place, she cool (Uh-huh)\nAnd if she raised you, I don't want her plate, no, I ain't even take her food (No thanks)\nYou might also like\nBaby bougie, he be turnin' down all kinda hoes\nHe took my bitch in Nike, I'm rockin' designer clothes\nI told her \"Sorry, I'm not fuckin', baby I'm not a ho\"\nHad bitches knockin' at my door like they was Domino's\n\nThey gon' say I went pop (Huh?)\nUntil a nigga play with me and he get popped (Yeah)\nI'm on front row at BET without my Glock (Huh?)\nI'm ready to beat a nigga up like I'm The Rock (Let's go)\nAnd she ready to sweep a nigga up because he hot (Mm, mm)\nShe ready to eat a nigga up until he lock (Yeah)\nShe hit the brakes and speed it up like she a car (Hmm)\nNow she got her hands behind her head like I'm a cop (Huh)\nI told her \"Fuck the police\", yeah\n\nTakin' a trip to Mexico, I'm comin' right back in town (\u00d3rale)\nI sell a lotta perico, been tryna slow it down (Tryna slow it down)\nTakin' a four, I put a two on that and then I make it bounce (Boing)\nI took a thirty-six to a hundred and eight and weigh up every ounce\nI'm a plug, workin' a drug hub out in H-town (Hey)\nHey, what up? You my lil' love bug, you with Gates now\nPenetrate while I grip her waist, push her face down (Yeah)\nConcentrate (Boom), this that bass, makin' great sounds (Boom, boom, boom)\nGot a graveyard up under my belt, more murders than New Mexico\nThirty round extension, mini Glizzy and I'm servin' coke\nI'm up in rank in the cartel, I got control in this bitch (Nyoom)\nAnd still, I'll book you for a show and get you showed in this bitch\nSwear you want a don dada, bitch, we Puerto Rico gangland\nA hundred bricks ain't nuttin', I pushed a button and make the plane land\nShow some of you niggas how to grind up out the hole\nThen I tied ya in with 'migo then I got you, he just told\nYeah, he just told you how to pop (Huh?)\nUntil a nigga play with me and he get popped (Yeah)\nI'm on front row at BET without my Glock (Huh?)\nI'm ready to beat a nigga up like I'm The Rock (Let's go)\nAnd she ready to sweep a nigga up because he hot (Mm, mm)\nShe ready to eat a nigga up until he lock (Yeah)\nShe hit the brakes and speed it up like she a car (Hmm)\nNow she got her hands behind her head like I'm a cop (Huh)\nI told her \"Fuck the police\", yeah"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olSAD SHIT Lyrics\nLet me do some sad shit for the real niggas\n\nYeah, I know my old bitch\u2005miss\u2005me\nProbably scrollin' down\u2005my timeline now (I know)\nHer friends\u2005tryna find out how (I, I)\nHow she let a perfect nigga like me go (I know)\nAnd everywhere she go, my song on the radio, huh?\nShe probably turned it down, don\u2019t wanna play me though, huh? (I know)\nBut I ain't really trippin', how you did me, it was fucked up (Yeah)\nBut when you get your mind right (Yeah), I\u2019m waitin' on ya (Yeah)\n\n'Cause, baby, I know my old bitch miss me\n(I miss you too, I can't even cap, like for real)\nNow I'm gone, and my heart's empty (Wait a minute, who are you?)\nI'm fucked up 'bout you (Ayo, K.i.D)\n(Let me switch it up real quick, let me switch it)\nTell me what I did to you, thought I could be real with you (I know)\nLet\u2019s go get a crib, I can live with you, have some kids with you (Yeah, yeah)\n\nFuck that, I\u2019m back on my pimpin' (Pimp)\nBack fuckin\u2019 four or five women\nIf I really did you wrong\nThen tell me why the fuck I'm in my feelings\nSingin' in my motherfuckin' song (Ooh-ooh)\nStarin\u2019 at my motherfuckin' phone (Brrt)\nCan't wait for you to pop up\nTried to get you pregnant, get you knocked up (Ooh-ooh)\nYou know I got the whole world against me\nI thought that you was with me\nEverybody out here wanna see me locked up (Ooh-ooh)\nYou know I love the way you do it to me, baby\nKnow you thinkin' 'bout when you was with DaBaby (Ooh-ooh)\nProbably end up with a sucka nigga who ain't really real\nA nigga who won't care about his kids\nA bitch nigga, probably don't respect his mother\nYou know I ever catch you with a nigga, gettin' beat up\nYou know when you was cold, I came through and helped you heat up\nWhat you doin' with that nigga?\nGirl, you know you don't belong with him\nSupposed to be with me out on the ocean with ya feet up, rollin' weed up\nKeep it real with him, you ain't gotta lie\nYou might also like\nI know (I know) my old bitch miss me\n(I miss you too, I can't even cap, really)\nI know, now I'm gone (I'm gone) and my heart's empty\n(I'm fucked up 'bout you, no cap)\nI know (I know) my old bitch miss me\n(I miss you too, I can't even cap, like for real)\nNow I'm gone (I'm gone), and my heart's empty\n(I'm fucked up 'bout you, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nFuck that, I'm goin' back in, nigga\nHit it from the back end, nigga\nWhy you talkin' so aggressive? (Ooh-ooh)\nYou ever got your heart broke, nigga?\nBy a Spanish bitch, Narcos, nigga? (Ooh-ooh)\nGot me lookin' for a Polo\nCan you hear her sayin' \"Marco\", nigga?\nI can't hear her sayin' \"Marco\" either (Ooh-ooh)\nThat mean she ain't there\nThat mean the lil' bitch don't care\nI'm like Q when he lost Moesha\nGot me feelin' like Monique when she lost the Professor\nGot me feelin' like the Prince if he lost Cinderella\nFuck a glass slipper\nThat's her new nigga right there\nWho, him? He a sucka ass nigga\nOh, so now you don't know me, wanna act like my sister\nYou ever seen a nigga get slapped with a pistol?\nAnd I ain't ever goin' out sad 'bout a ho (Ooh-ooh)\nBut this one ain't no ho, it's my ho, nigga\nSo tell 'em how you feel, baby\n'Cause I know (I know) my old bitch miss me (Ooh-ooh)\n'Cause I'm gone (I'm gone) and my heart's empty\n(Yeah, yeah)\nI know (I know) my old bitch miss me (Yeah, I know)\nNow I'm gone (I'm gone) and my heart's empty\n(Yeah, turn up)\n\nAnd that's just how a real nigga feel, man\nThis how a real nigga feel so a real nigga gotta keep it real\nYou know what I mean?\nYou know, that's why it sound like that, that's why it feel like that 'cause it's that real\nBaby\nI told K.i.D, \"Give me some sad shit for the real niggas\"\nHe gave me some sad shit for the real niggas, here you go\nHere you go"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsPRACTICE Lyrics\nOkay\nBoom, boom, boom (Firzt on the track)\nBoom, boom, boom\n\nI be feelin' like I don't be\u2005poppin'\u2005enough, I be\u2005humble\nI'ma keep showin' my ass if\u2005I wanna\nHang up the phone on they ass, block the number\nI told you don't play with me, nigga\nAnd she be actin' funny, probably think a nigga need her (Uh-uh)\nI thought I was faithful, she say I'm a cheater\nThey thought I was taken, I'm ready to mingle\nThe fuck is you saying, lil' nigga? (Go)\n\nI do my lil' dancy-dance (Go)\nI fill up my pants with bands, quit playing, lil' nigga\nAnd I don't think the talk is cheap (Talk)\n'Cause now when they talk to me, they paying me, nigga (Shut up)\nI probably say the word \"nigga\" too much\nI'm a real nigga, I don't be giving a fuck (Shh)\nTommy Hilfiger 'fits with the shit coming up (Go)\nWhen you stay down like this, you rock Fendi and stuff (Okay)\nHe broke as hell, put a boot on him\nI hit the bitch, put her out, put a move on her (Bitch)\nHe wanna be just like Baby for real\nOn the low tryna do what I do, don't he? (Yeah)\nJust so you prepared, I'ma let you know\nThey probably told you I'm scared, but I'm ready, though (No)\nThe industry can't take the hood out of me\n'Bout to go get some head from a ghetto ho (Uh-uh)\nThey do it nasty\nPull up new whip and it's flashy\nGun on my hip and it's plastic\nThis the deluxe\nI like her, but don't give a fuck (Fuck)\nI'm fucking her rough, I'm her daddy (Mmm)\nThat's how I live\nShe told me she wanna have kids (Mmm)\nI told her don't know what that is (Uh-uh)\nThat ain't how we speakin' (Uh-huh)\nI broke her heart into pieces\nShe probably gon' call Dr. Phil\nYou might also like\nI be feelin' like I don't be poppin' enough, I be humble (Pop it)\nI'ma keep showin' my ass if I wanna\nHang up the phone on they ass, block the number (Brrt, brrt, brrt)\nI told you don't play with me, nigga\nAnd she be actin' funny, probably think a nigga need her (Uh-uh)\nI thought I was faithful, she say I'm a cheater\nThey thought I was taken, I'm ready to mingle\nThe fuck is you saying, lil' nigga?\n\nI always had a thing for ghetto bitches, where the Trinas?\nI'm known to set it off like Queen Latifah\nYou wanna make Billboard? Come get a feature\nYou fucking with Baby, lil' nigga (Yeah)\nHot nigga, hot nigga (Hot)\nNumber one song on the Billboard, he still got a Glock with him (Hot)\nYou ain't gon' never see me hate on no nigga\nI think this work better, I'm tryna go shop with 'em\nYeah, what you need, lil' nigga?\nWe havin' the bags of gas and they movin' fast (Fast)\nThan you can imagine\nThat bitch on the way, my bro catch the pack like it's Madden (Go)\nHavin' my way with an actress (Come on)\nFuck on the floor, fuck a mattress\nThey probably saying I'm not on y'all asses\nI feel like AI, we talkin' 'bout practice\nI be feelin' like I don't be poppin' enough, I be humble\nI'ma keep showin' my ass if I wanna (We talkin' 'bout practice, man)\nHang up the phone on they ass, block the number\nI told you don't play with me, nigga (We talkin' 'bout practice)\nAnd she be actin' funny, probably think a nigga need her\nI thought I was faithful, she say I'm a cheater (We talkin' 'bout practice?)\nThey thought I was taken, I'm ready to mingle\nThe fuck is you saying, lil' nigga?"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsDaBaby Freestyle | LA Leakers Freestyle #076 Lyrics\n(Earl on the beat)\n\nWho shot your homeboy? A nigga with a diaper on?\nGot on the City Girls beat and got a cypher on? (Earl on the beat)\nYour girl said she diggin' with DaBaby, right or wrong?\nJust gave me head in the rental car while the lights was on\nYou know me, I be chillin\u2019 and coolin', know I'm the shit with the music\nSince you in love with computers, go look my name up on Google\nAnd please don\u2019t turn to no groupie, other niggas be goofy\nMight as well get some popcorn, we finna make this a movie\nSomewhere laid up with a stallion, lettin' them haters hate\nEatin' jumbo shrimp with the steak off of a paper plate\nBallin' on 'em like Michael Jordan back in '88\nGot my dick sucked before my flight, it almost made me late\nI'm in a different bracket than rappers, these niggas can't relate\nDon\u2019t make me get to slappin\u2019 these rappers, give 'em a change of face\nMade so many racks off of trappin\u2019, say I was slangin' weight\nPut the weed down and start eatin', they say I'm gainin\u2019 weight\nWho shot ya? That lil' nigga with the pamper baby?\nWith twenty pounds of Cali weed inside the hamper baby?\nYour girl said she throw the- ah ah ah\nI pull up with the bald fade like a cancer- ahh\nWho shot ya? That lil' nigga be on Instagram?\nDo what the fuck he want to do like he don't give a damn?\nJust got some head outside the show inside the Sprinter van\nThey say I'm a fool 'cause I'm coolin', smooth as a ceiling fan\nYou need to get your boss, I ain't tryna talk to no middleman\nI'm chargin' just to talk, nothin' personal, I'm a businessman\nHuh?You might also like"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsGOSPEL Lyrics\nOhh\nYeah, it's like, it's like some of that ghetto gospel shit\nYeah, yeah (Oh Lord, Jetson\u2005made\u2005another one)\n\nThis shit\u2005right here sound like some gospel\nI\u2005lost my daddy the same week that they lost Nipsey (Nipsey, yeah)\nAin't got no love left in my heart, my shit be empty (Empty, yeah, yeah)\nI'm ready to fire on all my opps, let a nigga tempt me (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAnd the day I die, I bet lil' Jon goin' down in history\n'Cause I've been solo, rockin' Dolo, I've been stuntin'\nNo, ho, it's a no-go, I don't want you (Yeah)\nAnd everybody wonderin' why he come around and don't say nothin'\n'Cause it been so long, it been so long\nI came from nothin'\n\nLemme pop my shit\nI came from shit, three of us and my mom, she couldn't pay rent\nTwo jobs, all alone, she couldn't quit\nWe was home alone when we was jits\nThat was before I was grown, before I was on\nI ain't had no shoes, I ain't had no clothes\nLemme wear your shoes, lemme fuck your bitch\nI ain't had no car, I ain't had no whip\nWonder why a nigga cover his ears when y'all talk\n'Cause it ain't nobody could tell me shit\nI spent 30K on my daughter birthday, everybody had fun\nNigga, everybody lit\nWhen a nigga go home, I don't answer my phone\nEverybody want to leech, everybody want a loan\nEverybody wanna talk, everybody wanna clique\nI don't wanna be friends and get off my dick\nI ain't had time to think, I ain't had time to breathe\nI've been prayin' to the Lord, I've been talkin' on my knees\nI been thinkin' 'bout my pops, I been thinkin' about my opps\nThinkin' how can I stop me a nigga when he breathin'\nWhen a nigga play with me, I ain't lookin' for my phone\nI ain't finna drive away, I ain't lookin' for my keys\nThe fuck these niggas know about me?\nYou might also like\nThis shit right here sound like some gospel\nI lost my daddy the same week that they lost Nipsey (Nipsey, yeah)\nAin't got no love left in my heart, my shit be empty (Empty, yeah, yeah)\nI'm ready to fire on all my opps, let a nigga tempt me (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAnd the day I die, I bet lil' Jon goin' down in history\n'Cause I've been solo, rockin' Dolo, I've been stuntin'\nNo, ho, it's a no-go, I don't want you  (I don't want nothin', yeah, yeah)\nAnd everybody wonderin' why he come around and don't say nothin'\n'Cause it been so long, it been so long (Chance The Rapper)\nI came from nothin' (Yeah, yeah)\n\nPut yourself in my shoes, like I abandoned the race\nAnd you ran in my place\nShoes too big, but they use hair strands as a lace, and they break\nWhen it's hot outside, you don't want fans in your face (Ah)\nBut you might want a fan in your face\nWhen yo' man got a heat and the hand in the waist (Band)\nGotta keep a cool head, niggas got PTSD these days (Yeah)\nSome folks ain't live to see these days (Yeah)\nI be in the lab like Dex, coolin', takin' these Dee Dee breaks (Long)\nThe PD way, I could write a book like TD Jakes (Yeah, yeah)\nWalkin' 'round my city in some house shoes\nKnow that they always wanted someone they could honk and shout to (Yeah, yeah)\nJust gotta remember, got a family in the house, too (Yeah, yeah)\nDon't get caught up with the one that still function without you (Yeah, yeah)\nThis shit right here sound like some gospel\nI lost my daddy the same week that they lost Nipsey (Nipsey, yeah)\nAin't got no love left in my heart, my shit be empty (Empty, yeah, yeah)\nI'm ready to fire on all my opps, let a nigga tempt me (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAnd the day I die, I bet lil' Jon  goin' down in history\n'Cause I've been solo, rockin' Dolo, I've been stuntin'\nNo, ho, it's a no-go, I don't want you (Yeah)\nAnd everybody wonderin' why he come around and don't say nothin'\n'Cause it been so long, it been so long\nI came from nothin'\n\nI'm the only nigga left, homie\nIt ain't right how they all went left on me\nNiggas took my heart and they stepped on it (Wow)\nLately, I've been hangin' by myself, homie (Huh)\nThese fuck niggas made me sick, they got me nauseous (Ugh)\nParanoid, all this money movin' cautious (Cautious)\nFlippin' quarters on a corner to a baller (Skrrt)\nRun up on Gucci, you gon' see the coroner\nBright carats on my chest not pointers (Brrr)\nParis freshin', we fresh like a foreigner (Huh)\nNigga tried to rob me, now he a goner (Whew)\nGucci Mane preach the gospel to the mourners (Haha)\nGuwap, yeah\nThis shit right here sound like some gospel\nI lost my daddy the same week that they lost Nipsey (Nipsey, yeah)\nAin't got no love left in my heart, my shit be empty (Empty, yeah, yeah)\nI'm ready to fire on all my opps, let a nigga tempt me (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAnd the day I die, I bet lil' Jon goin' down in history\n'Cause I've been solo, rockin' Dolo, I've been stuntin'\nNo, ho, it's a no-go, I don't want you (Yeah)\nAnd everybody wonderin' why he come around and don't say nothin'\n'Cause it been so long, it been so long\nI came from nothin'"}
{"text":"49 ContributorsMasterpiece Lyrics\nPsst, stop (Huh)\nNoticed how I looked you in your eyes (Let\u2019s go)\nNext time, a nigga gettin' shot\nIf you really love me, fuck me like a thot\nIf you really love me, do what I say (d.a. got that dope)\nWhen you give me head, look me dead in my eye (Go)\nNigga play and I'ma set it on fire\n\nMy lil' bitch is a masterpiece\nI ain't even gotta be funny when I'm tellin' no joke\nShe still gon' laugh at me\nStill suck my dick when she mad at me\nLet a nigga mak\u0435 me mad, you'll see\nI nod my head in this bitch\nThem niggas gon' slid\u0435 on your bitch-ass for me\nBuss down Cartier, new Master P\nMy lil' bitch is a masterpiece\nI ain't even gotta be funny when I'm tellin' no joke (Yeah, uh)\nShe still gon' laugh at me (Yeah, uh)\nStill suck my dick when she mad at me (Yeah, uh)\nLet a nigga make me mad, you'll see (Yeah, uh)\nI nod my head in this bitch (Yeah, uh)\nThem niggas gon' slide on your bitch-ass for me (Uh, uh)\nBuss down Cartier, new Master P\nYou might also like\nLet down the window, you see me (Skrrt, let this bitch down)\nWe got ARs, .45s, nines, and the two-tone Lamborghini (Let's go, let\u2019s go)\nI walk in this bitch by myself\nNigga still got on all of his bling-bling (Bling)\nI\u2019m so rich, drop the top on that 'Rarri\nYuh lil' bruh in this bitch with that thing-thing (That ting, nigga)\nThey just told me that somebody die\nBut it don\u2019t bother me, that's a G thing (So)\nNo, it don\u2019t bother me, it's the G way (G)\nI don't know what went down at that Walmart (Uh-uh)\nI don't know what happened on that freeway (Doo, doo, doo)\nOkay, there go that DaBaby, he back now\nRun it back, hey, bitch, turn that on replay\nOh, he still got that shit with that bop in it?\nOh, they thought that lil' nigga went pop, didn't it?\nI'm one of them superstar rappers who actually poppin'\nWho really gon' pop niggas (I'm one of those)\nWe really done pop niggas\nTryna send one of you lil' niggas up, take the clout wit' ya\nAnd I got this lil' boo thing\nSoon as I went and got her a purse, put my Glock in it (Yeah, yeah-yeah)\nLike, \"Bae, you my bitch now\"\nShe know I don't mean no disrespect, I just talk different\nNigga\nMy lil' bitch is a masterpiece\nI ain't even gotta be funny when I'm tellin' them joke\nShe still gon' laugh at me\nStill suck my dick when she mad at me\nLet a nigga make me mad, you'll see\nI nod my head in this bitch\nThem niggas gon' slide on your bitch-ass for me (Doo, doo, doo, doo)\nBuss down Cartier, new Master P\nMy lil' bitch is a masterpiece (Go)\nI ain't even gotta be funny when I'm tellin' them joke\nShe still gon' laugh at me (Uh)\nStill suck my dick when she mad at me\nLet a nigga make me mad, you'll see\nI nod my head in this bitch\nThem niggas gon' slide on your bitch-ass for me (Doo, doo, doo, doo)\nBuss down Cartier, new Master P\n\nBuss it down, Cartier baby (Buss it down)\nNiggas think I'm from Detroit\nBut I come from that 704, Charlotte made me (704)\nAnd you can come play if you want\nI'ma leave yo ass cold like Detroit on the pavement (Doo, doo, doo, doo)\nWho fuckin' with Baby? Just laughed at you\nQuick to beat a nigga up, leave him snaggletooth (Uh, uh)\nHoppin' on a jet to get a bag or two (Let's go)\nProlly need to go and do some therapy\nHavin' moments, I always feel lonely (Uh-huh)\nJust walked in the meetin', and I got it on me\nThey don't know that I got it on me (Uh, uh, uh)\nI done made a whole lotta millions while in the pandemic (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAnd ain't even out there performin' (Go)\nClown ass nigga, better ketchup\nYou ain't even mustard, that shit there bologna (Eugh)\nNew boo look like a Barbie doll straight out the package\nHad to bust her out the wrapper (Mwah)\nBut nice ass fell in love with a real nigga (Mwah)\nTime to turn her to a savage\nA nigga play with me, I'll prolly burn him on camera (Boom)\nDamn, a rapper killed a rapper\nBig player, it don't matter what happened before\nWhat really matters happen after\nMy lil' bitch is a masterpiece\nI ain't even gotta be funny when I'm tellin' them joke\nShe still gon' laugh at me\nStill suck my dick when she mad at me\nLet a nigga make me mad, you'll see (Go)\nI nod my head in this bitch\nThem niggas gon' slide on your bitch-ass for me (Oh, oh)\nBuss down Cartier, new Master P (Oh, oh)\nMy lil' bitch is a masterpiece (Oh, oh)\nI ain't even gotta be funny when I'm tellin' them joke\nShe still gon' laugh at me (Oh, oh)\nStill suck my dick when she mad at me (Oh, oh)\nLet a nigga make me mad, you'll see (Oh, oh)\nI nod my head in this bitch\nThem niggas gon' slide on your bitch-ass for me\nBuss down Cartier, new Master P"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsRAW SHIT Lyrics\nThey said they want some of that raw shit (Raw)\nTurn it up, I'ma sit in\u2005the\u2005car, bitch (Turn\u2005me up, Tahj Money)\nIf you turn\u2005off your lights, you gon' see me at night\nHo, you know I'm a motherfucking star, bitch (Bling)\nHow I know you ain't from where I'm from?\n'Cause you know you can't go leave your gun in the car, dick (The fuck?)\nNigga like me walk down on your ass\nLeave you stuck in the sand like a motherfuckin' starfish (Let's go)\n\nWhere the Backwoods at? I'm tryna smoke some' (Let's go)\nSTG, swear to God they don't want none' (Hah)\nSTD, play with fire, I'ma burn something\nBack to back in Scatpack doing donuts (Skrrt)\nStarting not to get head 'til I want some\nShe eat up the two-ball, the screwball like ice cream (Ice cream)\nWho you know wear designer with Nike? (Me)\nI smile and I show off my dimples, I'm icy (Cheese)\nName a label that's fucking with my team (My team)\nSomebody come give me a challenge, excite me (Come on)\nNigga better stay 'way from that water\nI let this bitch off, it's gon' hit you like lightning (Hah, boom)\nHow the fuck they let Baby go platinum?\nI thought he was wack and they didn't even like him (Hah, bitch)\nYou can come see my plaque on my wall\nWalkin' 'round in my drawers, talking shit in my castle (Uh-huh)\nThink he sick, wipe his nose, I'm a nappy (Sick)\nTake his bitch, that's my ho, I'm her daddy (Her dad)\nShip the shit to your door, send the addy (Your door)\nMix it in with the low, doesn't matter (Uh, low)\nNigga know I was having that remix (Yeah)\nI play pussy and burn you, that's defense (Bitch)\nBaby pull out my dick and she eat it\nShe like how I be kicking that street shit\nThat's your boy, he aight, he ain't me, bitch (Bitch)\nCheck me out on your screen, BET, bitch (Yeah)\nKnow I got the whole gang in LA (The gang)\nI'm strapped up with that thang in LA (Uh, huh?)\nI hop off the plane and I skate\nShe 'bout to come bring me some brain, that's my bae (My bae)\nI can't go back and forth with a ho\nLike a bitch who gon' do everything that I say (Shh, Quavo)\nYou might also like\nSay they want some of that trap talk (Trap)\nI get a brick, let it moonwalk (Brick)\nThe K shoot silent, but it still talk (Rrah)\nSmoke with the pilot in the skybox (Uh)\nThe Culinan came with a umbrella (Skrrt)\nBaguettes, no prongs, they stayin' together (Ice)\nI lift my arm and change the weather (Woo)\nTurn a bitch from nothing to a Cinderella (Bad, go)\n\nThey said they want some of that raw shit (Raw)\nTurn it up, I'ma sit in the car, bitch (Turn me up)\nIf you turn off your lights, you gon' see me at night\nHo, you know I'm a motherfucking star, bitch (Bling)\nHow I know you ain't from where I'm from?\n'Cause you know you can't go leave your gun in the car, dick (The fuck?)\nNigga like me walk down on your ass\nLeave you stuck in the sand like a motherfuckin' starfish (Let's go)\nThey said they want some of that raw shit (Raw)\nTurn it up, I'ma sit in the car, bitch (Turn me up)\nIf you turn off your lights, you gon' see me at night\nHo, you know I'm a motherfucking star, bitch (Bling)\nHow I know you ain't from where I'm from?\n'Cause you know you can't go leave your gun in the car, dick (The fuck?)\nNigga like me walk down on your ass\nLeave you stuck in the sand like a motherfuckin' starfish (Takeoff)\nI feel like how I'm sipping on Activis (Act')\nMight as well turn to an activist (Might as well)\nThe meeting was corporate, walked in like we been there\nMan, they ain't know we really was savages (No)\nAin't in a UPS or with the FedEx, but a nigga be packing it (Smash)\nAin't tryna brag or boast or tell 'em something they don't know\nBut a nigga be having it (Cash)\nMetal on me all time (Brr)\nBeefing with metal detectors and magnets (Brr)\nBitch, I'm with 'Set and DaBaby\nHit the racetrack just to see who the fastest (Skrrt)\nBaby just came out of a cast\nDon't make us put your bitch ass in a casket (Don't)\nWe wrapping up plastic actually\nI get the backend, hot like a dragon (Hot, hot)\n\nI hit the Cook', then I ash it (Hey)\nI fishtail the Demon, I drag it (Skrrt)\nThese niggas broke, maggots (Broke)\nTake your bitch throat, stab it (Ugh)\nAudemar, baguettes got added (Audemar)\nGrab the stick, pay the hit when it's static (Baow)\nYeah, my bitch is the baddest, I\u2019m bragging (Woo)\nQuarter mil' on the Richard, it's plastic (Hey, hey)\nThey said they want some of that raw shit (Raw)\nTurn it up, I'ma sit in the car, bitch (Turn me up)\nIf you turn off your lights, you gon' see me at night\nHo, you know I'm a motherfucking star, bitch (Bling)\nHow I know you ain't from where I'm from?\n'Cause you know you can't go leave your gun in the car, dick (The fuck?)\nNigga like me walk down on your ass\nLeave you stuck in the sand like a motherfuckin' starfish (Let's go)\nThey said they want some of that raw shit (Raw)\nTurn it up, I'ma sit in the car, bitch (Turn me up)\nIf you turn off your lights, you gon' see me at night\nHo, you know I'm a motherfucking star, bitch (Bling)\nHow I know you ain't from where I'm from?\n'Cause you know you can't go leave your gun in the car, dick (The fuck?)\nNigga like me walk down on your ass\nLeave you stuck in the sand like a motherfuckin' starfish"}
{"text":"20 Contributors4X Lyrics\nJust got off the phone with my partner\nHe told me he need three, I told him I got him (Ha)\nYou probably ain't heard how I'm rockin'\nI'll beat yo' ass up, leave my gun in my pocket (Yeah)\nJust went up on my prices, you dig? (I went up)\nKeep a gun wit' no license, you dig?\n\nOff the top, I ain't writin' this shit (Uh-uh)\nI keep a Glock, I ain't fightin' you (Bitch)\nYeah, I'm tryna strike him (Come here)\nI got shit on lock, Rikers (On lock)\n\nSent the DM, she think that I like her (Uh-huh)\nI just want some good head, she want titles (That neck)\nGot my music on Apple and Tidal (Ha)\nI got the juice like I'm Snapple, I'm viral (Ha-ha)\nShe sucked my dick for a pic (Uh-huh)\nI smack her ass, give her dick (Dick, dick)\nI'll turn your ass to a lick (Bitch)\n\nWe hop off the sprinter with sticks\nWe came for a show, but these rods ain't for show\nNigga do the wrong thing and we endin' his shit (On gang)\nBruh, hop off the stage then we fallin' (Uh)\nNigga reach, is you tryna go viral? (Pussy)\nHe get beat to sleep for playin' tough in the club\nHe won't remember tomorrow (Gang)\nI'm a real-I'm a real blockstar (Uh-huh)\nStunna man got the block bumpin' (Uh-huh)\nMy name in the streets like I popped somethin' (Yeah)\nNigga play with my name, have the block jumpin' (Uh-uh)\nYour bitch on my dick when I drop somethin' (Ooh)\nYou ain't hit no licks, nigga, stop frontin' (Uh-uh)\nI ain't tryna lip box\nI'm tryna knock him out the frame, Stunna gon' crop somethin' (Come here)\nYou might also like\nLookin' for his bitch like he lost somethin' (Where she at?)\nShe wit' me, I got my feet up (Ha, ha)\nMy dick on the plate, make her eat up (Eat)\nHe can still get a P, bro, they cheap (Ha)\nA trapper turned rapper\nBeen losin' my plays 'cause I've been out of town for a week (Damn)\nToo busy, I can't pick my phone up (I can't)\nDon't argue with hoes, bitch, we grown-ups (Yeah)\nI walk it out, DJ Unk (Walk it out)\nGot that fire on me, not fuck with Trump (Got that fire)\nDo my dance on your main, she gon' fuck\nNigga, play with the gang if you want (Yeah)\nI'll do a show, get you hit (Get you hit)\nHundred twenty-five hoes on my dick (Twenty-five)\nI bumped into your swoop, she a goner (She gone)\nShe wasn't my type of boo, I ain't want her (Uh-uh)\nPassed it down through the crew, here go Stunna (Okay)\n\nUh, bro send that pack off like a punter (Trap)\nI son that boy like his uncle (Bitch)\nHe claimin' somethin', we puttin' him under (Come here)\nWe beat down his block like some drummers (Wham)\nNo Thug, I'm really with gunners (Slime)\nAyy, I'm in her mouth like a sucker (Ooh)\nI use her face, I won't nut on the covers (Thot, thot)\nFour times, these bitches love me (Four times)\nSee me with DaBaby, now they wanna fuck me (Gang)\nAnd if I do, bitch, you lucky (Ooh)\nHa, I bet he gon' die if he touch me (Wham)\nFour times, four times, four times\nPop your shit, nigga, pop your shit, go 'head\nFour times\nPop your shit\nBlank Blank\nPop it\nBlank Blank\nPop your shit, talk your shit\nYeah, hottest young nigga doin' this shit, bitch (Bitch)\nFour way, you get this shit the glo way\nHallway, rundown, god way, grahh\nThat's why I fuck wit' nigga\nThat's why I fuck wit' that nigga right there\nHuh?\nHe gon' pop his shit, you hear me?\nHuh? Huh?\nReal talk, I'm the best motherfuckin' rapper, Stunna the best young nigga rapper, bitch, we takin' over\nBlank Blank"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easPony Lyrics\nPyrex whipper\nUh-huh\n\nIt feel good thumbin' through the backend, don't it?\nAin't have to make a play in three months\nGave the plug to my brother and the trap still rollin' (Let's go)\nAll my hoes freaks, yeah, she ride D\nYeah, like a goddamn pony (Yeah, yeah)\nSteady runnin' to the money, don't stop, green light\nYeah, nigga, keep goddamn goin' (Vroom)\nAnd you already goddamn know it\n\nNeed to pull up my pants, pull my shirt down\nI make what they make in three months for a verse now (Yeah)\nI can take the backend from the show\nPut some bread on your head\nGet you muhfuckin' murked now (Uh-huh)\nGot the work so mad, ho like to blow up my phone (Brrt, brrt, brrt)\nLeave me 'lone, bitch, you dead, I'm at work now (Ha)\nGot the streets' hottest youngin'\nThat Stunna the one got your baby daddy poppin' Percs now (Four times)\nHe say he need some more stamina (Uh-huh)\nHis bitch fuckin' with me, he can't handle her (Yee)\nI only had that car for three months\nAnd I sold like 300 Ps in my Challenger (No cap)\nWanna be BDB Ent, he need help with his music\nHe need me to manage him (Uh-uh)\nWe booked up, let me check if we busy (Uh)\nYour ho like how we dress, we get jiggy\nI'm not with all the talkin', I'm with it\nLeave a mark on your ho, send her home with a hickey (Uh-huh)\nFucked around and went home smellin' like your lil main ho perfume\nMy BM tried to kill me (Damn)\nGod forbid that lil boy play with me\nHave your whole family dressed up in black like a pilgrim (Uh-huh)\nYeah, my prices went up\nYour promoter was playin, but now, bitch, we back in the buildin'\nYou might also like\nIt feel good thumbin' through the backend, don't it?\nAin't have to make a play in three months\nGave the plug to my brother and the trap still rollin' (Let's go)\nAll my hoes freaks, yeah, she ride D\nYeah, like a goddamn pony (Yeah, yeah)\nSteady runnin' to the money, don't stop, green light\nYeah, nigga, keep goddamn goin' (Vroom)\nAnd you already goddamn know it\nIt feel good thumbin' through the backend, don't it?\nAin't have to make a play in three months\nGave the plug to my brother and the trap still rollin' (Let's go)\nAll my hoes freaks, yeah, she ride D\nYeah, like a goddamn pony (Yeah, yeah)\nSteady runnin' to the money, don't stop, green light\nYeah, nigga, keep goddamn goin' (Vroom)\nAnd you already goddamn know it (Talk to 'em)\n\nI ain't have to make a play in so long, I don't even got a scale\nAnd I forgot how much a pound weigh (Uh-huh)\nBrand new car, 2019, had 57 miles (Vroom)\nHad to put it on the highway, Scat Pack (Skrrrt)\nBad bitch with a seven-year degree, but she still sellin' pussy\nMan, I wonder what her mom say (Mmm, mmm, mmm)\nUh, wonder what her dad say (Huh?)\nI don't do the slow shit, I like the fast way (Yee)\nHigh school sold reggie to my classmates\nI'm the one that taught your lil' brother what a bag weigh (No cap)\nWe was takin' niggas' shit in '09\nAnd we wasn't hidin' from ya, had to catch us on a bad day\nHit a lick and make a bad day a good day (Uh-huh)\nHe don't even pop it open, he a good play (Sweet)\nFuck around with me, a nigga gettin' remixed\nGoin' out to dinner with your money, eatin' good steak (Ha)\nFuck around take the whole gang to Ruth's Chris (Gang)\nWho that fine ho right there? My new bitch (Huh?)\nThem ho like when I smile, they be choosin' (Uh-huh)\nI put ice in my mouth, bitch, my tooth lit (Yee)\nGive a fuck 'bout who like how I do shit (Uh-huh)\nLike to ball with my dawgs, who you hoop with? (You ball?)\nProbably havin' a ball with them new niggas (Ah)\nYou ain't stay down like good bitch, you stupid\nIt feel good thumbin' through the backend, don't it?\nAin't have to make a play in three months\nGave the plug to my brother and the trap still rollin' (Let's go)\nAll my hoes freaks, yeah, she ride D\nYeah, like a goddamn pony (Yeah, yeah)\nSteady runnin' to the money, don't stop, green light\nYeah, nigga, keep goddamn goin' (Vroom)\nAnd you already goddamn know it\nIt feel good thumbin' through the backend, don't it?\nAin't have to make a play in three months\nGave the plug to my brother in the trap, still rollin' (Let's go)\nAll my hoes freaks, yeah, she ride D\nYeah, like a goddamn pony (Yeah, yeah)\nSteady runnin' to the money, don't stop, green light\nYeah, nigga, keep goddamn goin' (Vroom)\nAnd you already goddamn know it"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsPICK UP Lyrics\nLet's go\nWait a minute, who are you? (Ayy, yo, K.i.D)\n\nPick up, pick up, pick up\nBetter\u2005watch\u2005his lil' bitch\u2005'cause I'm up off the liquor\nI\u2005been turnin' her down, she on go, tryna get up\nCrack\u205fa\u205fsmile\u205fat your ho,\u205fshe gon' fall\u205fout and shiver\nNigga going out sad 'bout the ho, he a Skittle (Sweet)\nTake the jet to New York like I'm Jigga (Yoom)\nWhen you poppin', you know that come with paparazzi\nI hate going outside, they all know I'm that nigga (Let's go)\n\nSlide on a nigga, they drive through like Wendy's (Slide)\nThey all pray for the time of the day, I been busy\nI turned her down, now that lil' nigga picky\nShe wasn't gettin' no money, I told her to miss me\nOh, y'all like takin' pictures? Think y'all niggas sissy\nMy lil' nigga been loyal, I threw him a fifty\nI pull up in an Escalade, hop out in Timberlands\nMy bitch, she got finger wave hair like she Missy (Bitch)\nKiss me, kiss me, kiss me\nI look better in person, lil' ho, I get jiggy\nSpend that lil' money, I ain't tryna save it\nWe ain't tripping on none of that, bitch, we got plenty (Bread)\nBread on your head, bitch, I'm Jiffy\nFuck around, drop a movie on niggas like 50\nIf Big Worm would've pulled up, I would've start hitting\nIf Deebo choked me out, bitch, I would've killed him, bitch\nYou might also like\nPick up, pick up, pick up\nBetter watch his lil' bitch 'cause I'm up off the liquor\nI been turnin' her down, she on go, tryna get up\nCrack a smile at your ho, she gon' fall out and shiver\nNigga going out sad 'bout the ho, he a Skittle (Sweet)\nTake the jet to New York like I'm Jigga (Yoom)\nWhen you poppin', you know that come with paparazzi (Wait a minute, who are you? Ayy, yo, K.i.D)\nI hate going outside, they all know I'm that nigga (Let's go, Quavo)\n\nPick up, pick up, don't pick up the phone\nI'm trappin', lil' nigga, don't pick up (Brrt, brrt)\nWe been havin' drip and I'm puttin' that shit on\nAnd I'm lightnin', I'm icin', I'm flooding my wrist up (Ice)\nAdd it up, nigga, just put your lil' 'fit up (Add it)\nYes, sir (Yes, sir), put that lil' shit up (Woo)\nBad bitch, look like she do sit-ups (Bitch)\nI bought the Lamborghini just to get up (Go)\nKeep talkin' that talk and I popped him, laughin'\nSkrrt (Skrrt), yeah, I'm ducking the traffic (Woo)\nI'm doing this shit in spectacular fashion (Uh)\nStraight out the Nawf and that chopper get tactic (Woo)\nShoot up the floor (Rraow), I got him dancing, dancing\nShake that bitch out of your panties\nI am the Cho (Cho), what did I score? (Woo)\nHo, you already know I'm the G.O.A.T. (G.O.A.T.)\nPick up, pick up, pick up\nBetter watch his lil' bitch 'cause I'm up off the liquor\nI been turnin' her down, she on go, tryna get up\nCrack a smile at your ho, she gon' fall out and shiver\nNigga going out sad 'bout the ho, he a Skittle (Sweet)\nTake the jet to New York like I'm Jigga (Yoom)\nWhen you poppin', you know that come with paparazzi\nI hate going outside, they all know I'm that nigga (Let's go)"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsBLIND Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nI've been blind for a while now\n\nI just got the key, they let\u2005me\u2005in, no ID\nDoors\u2005openin' up for me and now\u2005I see\nI've been blind for a while now\nI've been blind\u205ffor\u205fa\u205fwhile now (Ayy,\u205fI've been blind,\u205fhey)\n\nEvery single goddamn day, a nigga think he next to leak it (Next to who?)\nTomatoes, mustard, mayonnaise\nNigga better catch up, catch up, catch up, catch up (Yup, yup, yup)\nThankful that my head too hard for me to learn my lesson (My head too goddamn hard)\n'Cause the way I did it worked out fine, ooh, God you blessed me (Amen)\nProbably ain't believe me\nKnow a nigga went through hell and back, now he finally on the TV (Yeah)\nNow a nigga don't even give a fuck no more, probably think it's easy\nLet you know it ain't easy\nI fuck her like a Bathing Ape, she run from the dick like a cheetah (Go)\nTwo-tone AP watch on, never see me use it for a clock (Tick, tock)\nThey see the way he fuckin' up the charts (Hmm)\nI wonder is he ever gon' stop?\nAnd he charge a hundred-fifty for the verses now\nPay it or he never ever drop\nThey noticed that a nigga music versatile\nWonder if he ever goin' pop? (Go)\nYou might also like\nI just got the key, they let me in, no ID\nDoors openin' up for me and now I see\nI've been blind for a while now (Blind)\nI've been blind for a while now (Blind)\nLet's go\nI just got the key, they let me in, no ID\nDoors openin' up for me and now I see\nI've been blind for a while now\nI've been blind for a while now\n\nYeah\nI've been quarantined, livin' with my kiddies\nTryna teach me how to cha-cha, woah\nFucked around, left the door open\nNow they know that they can't stop me\nDon't place me in no cop car\nYeah, I'm off probation, so it's gas I blow\nI found love in my bitch, so I don't ask no more\nI can really sit back, ain't gotta pass no dough\nAll of my brothers get loot, I don't got ride with pistols (Yeah)\nThey found him dead, he dissed you (Woah)\nPTDS, don't you tell me you lost me (Woo)\nFuck all the rest, none them bitches are a nominee\nGo to the head whenever dogs with me die\nGot me riding 'til the sun come, blood on my white 1's\nI just got the key, they let me in, no ID\nDoors openin' up for me and now I see\nI've been blind for a while now (Blind)\nYeah, I've been blind for a while now, yeah (Let's go)\nI just got the key, they let me in, no ID\nDoors openin' up for me and now I see\nI've been blind for a while now\nI've been blind for a while now (Yeah)"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsLIGHTSKIN SHIT Lyrics\nUh, uh, uh-huh\nYeah (Oh Lord, Jetson made another one)\n\nMy bitch like a model\nWhere the genie?\u2005She\u2005shaped like a\u2005bottle\nFuck a IG, she too fine\u2005to follow\nPowerball, bitch, I just hit the Lotto (Cha-ching)\nTylenol, she too sick, call a doctor (Sick)\nFuck a pill, where that pussy? I'll pop it (I'll pop)\nI'm a dog, I'ma shit on my last ho\nAll the pretty bitches need a asshole, let's go\n\nLightskin shit\nShe fuck with me, she turn into a lightskin bitch (Uh, haa)\nFamily in our business on some hype man shit\nShe ain't respondin' to my text, she on some lightskin shit, I don't like that shit\nPull up with a new ho (Let's go, skrrt)\nWrecked my four-door, I went bought a two-door (Yeah)\nWhen you out, we on liquor and Nuvo (Huh)\nI'ma dog on the bitch, call me Cujo (Grrr, bitch, yeah)\nI went, ran the score up (Uh)\nPut my dick down her throat 'til she throw up (Throw up)\nHard to hide out in public, they know us\nPicture's viral before the shit go up (Pic)\nFuck is a pic to a rich nigga? (Nigga)\nI'm havin' my way with your bitch\nThe same bitch that was havin' her way with a bitch nigga (Hahaha)\nNiggas goin' out sad 'bout these hoes, but me? Um\nYou might also like\nMy bitch like a model\nWhere the genie? She shaped like a bottle\nFuck a IG, she too fine to follow\nPowerball, bitch, I just hit the Lotto (Cha-ching)\nTylenol, she too sick, call a doctor (Sick)\nFuck a pill, where that pussy? I'll pop it (I'll pop)\nI'm a dog, I'ma shit on my last ho\nAll the pretty bitches need a asshole, let's go\n\nMy bitch in the trap with a mask on (Yeah)\nI just flipped two dimes in the restroom (Let's go)\nHad the magazine tucked like a super goon (Baby)\nHad to sweep the drug money with the broom (Woo)\nMight cop the Chanel in the back-back (We did it)\nI can buy the bales with the money in the backpack, yeah (We got it)\nAnd Rolex, yeah\nAlmost went to Hell, that's a big fact (Pluto)\nI done cut up the wrist on my sleeve (I cut it)\nLike I'm suicidal on the jet (Let's go)\nI done turnt your favorite to a pet (Turn up)\nCheck the hunnid milli' presidents, it's hard to fall off, I'm super relevant (I'm super)\nOn the billi dollar, killed the middle man tryna treat me like I'm not the trigger man (Baby)\nGot a real one and she reppin' Taliban, gang (Yeah)\nMy bitch like a model\nWhere the genie? She shaped like a bottle\nFuck a IG, she too fine to follow\nPowerball, bitch, I just hit the Lotto (Cha-ching)\nTylenol, she too sick, call a doctor (Sick)\nFuck a pill, where that pussy? I'll pop it (I'll pop)\nI'm a dog, I'ma shit on my last ho\nAll the pretty bitches need a asshole, let's go"}
{"text":"16 ContributorsToday (Remix) Lyrics\nBaby\nAh, bitch (Hahaha, yeah, Baby Talk 5)\nFuck a nigga mean, nigga? (Baby Talk 5)\nFuck you talkin' 'bout? (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nI'm on they ass today, I just went and picked me up a bag today\nI pulled up on the scene with a bad lil' bae (Ooh)\nShe got a fat ass, when I smash, it shake (Ooh)\nSmackin' her ass, playin' patty cake (Ah)\nShut the fuck up, do what daddy say\nI think I got lil' baby mad at me (Huh?)\n\nFucked up her hair, she look bad today\nTold her, \"Hop in the whip, we can go get a fix\"\nI'ma drop that bitch off at my set, she the shit\nAs soon as she done with that nappy ass hair\nYou can pick up your boy to come pick up his bitch (Damn)\nLook at my wrist, that's a brick\nI just fucked up my Rolex, but fuck it, it's lit (Damn)\nI don't give a fuck 'bout no fame or no chain\nAin't no jewelry put me on the lick (Damn)\nI just went sat with the label (Huh?)\nNiggas offered me a contract (What happened?)\nTold them niggas I ain't want it (Why?)\nThe shit was wack, I didn't sign that (Uh)\nI'm the best but never mind that (Okay)\nMy shit so hard that they rewind that (Ah)\nGot that work if you can't find that (Huh?)\nYou can't afford it, we can finance\nI got one foot in the trap, got one foot up they ass, ditch your coat on the rack\nGot my dick in your bitch, she be bendin' it over and bustin' it open and throwin' it back\nI'm tryna go fuck a bunny\nFuck all these hoes 'cause they don't really love me\nI'm tryna get me some motherfuckin' money\nIf they free Meek Mill, why they ain't free my cousin?\nI bet we shoot up your motherfuckin' party\nIf somebody touch me or one of my brothers\nI bet won't none of these niggas that talk on the internet try me, they see me in public\nI bet they play all my motherfuckin' teachin'\nBitch, I don't rap, I be motherfuckin' preachin'\nI bet you paid for that motherfuckin' show\nAnd I bet you paid for that motherfuckin' feature (Bitch)\nYou might also like\nI'm on they ass today, I just went and picked me up a bag today\nI pulled up on the scene with a bad lil' bae (Ha Huh? Huh?)\nShe got a fat ass, when I smash, it shakes\nSmackin' her ass, playin' patty cake (Patty)\nShut the fuck up, do what daddy say (Uh)\nI think I got lil' baby mad at me (Yeah)\nFuck it, let's go to the bank (Ha)\n\nBaby (Baby), racks (Racks), keep 'em on me like I live in the bank\nPints, Act' (Act'), addicted to syrup like I live off the drink\nMy fashion is high, I live in the sky\nI'm keeping my fire, I hope they don't try\nYou heard I'm on fire, but that ain't no lie\nMy youngins, I love 'em, I know they gon' ride\nRacks, hundred, get 'em knocked off and won't think about it (Fa-fa)\nLie to your honor (Street)\nLook him straight in the face and won't blink about it\nI just finessed for a bag today\nWe wipe they nose, yeah, the nasty way (Slime)\nNASCAR my car, yeah, the fastest way (Yeah)\nFuck on your bitch, I don't masturbate (Wait)\nI just kept it one hunnid, they had to hate (Hate)\nI heat it up, and I blast away\nAin't do no whippin', it's glass today\nShe let me hit it, I had to pay\nShe let me get it, you had to wait (Nope)\nI'm still ahead of my class today (Yeah)\nI do the dash with no license plate (Skrrt)\nNigga try me, he gon' die today (Fa-fa)\nI'm on they ass today, I just went and picked me up a bag today\nI pulled up on the scene with a bad lil' bae (Ha Huh? Huh?)\nShe got a fat ass, when I smash, it shakes\nSmackin' her ass, playin' patty cake (Patty)\nShut the fuck up, do what daddy say (Uh)\nI think I got lil' baby mad at me (Yeah)\nFuck it, let's go to the bank (Ha)\n\nI'm 'bout to motherfuckin' blank\nMy name hold weight, I got motherfuckin' rank\nI'm in the rental with my brother Thank\nWe tryna eat, where our motherfuckin' plate? (Ha)\nIt's been there with me, y'all just motherfuckin' late\nI need that shit now, I can't motherfuckin' wait\nI bet you act like you motherfuckin' know\nI put this four-five in your motherfuckin' face, bitch\n\nI'm on they ass today, I just went and picked me up a bag today (Huh? Huh?)\nI pulled up on the scene with a bad lil' bae (Skrrt)\nShe got a fat ass, when I smash, it shake (Uh-huh)\nSmackin' her ass, playin' patty cake\nShut the fuck up, do what daddy say\nI think I got lil' baby mad at me\nHuh?\nHahaha, fuck you talkin' 'bout, nigga? Huh?\nDaBaby, DaBaby, DaBaby, DaBaby\nBitch, Baby Talk "}
{"text":"37 ContributorsBall If I Want To Lyrics\n(If I want to)\n(If I want to)\n(If I want to)\n\u200bd.a. got that dope\n(If I want-want-want-want\u2014)\n\nBitch, it ain't even my birthday, but I can ball if I want to (Ball)\nPull up, foreign cars if I want to (Skrrt)\nHop out that bitch with that iron in my jumpsuit (Go)\nJust do what I say and I'll love you ('Kay?)\nI get this shit from my uncle\nI told bae get twenty-two inches of weave\nTonight, I wanna fuck a Rapunzel (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAin't fuckin' her right, you ain't pullin' her hair (Bitch-ass nigga)\n\nLegs on the side of your head, now fuck it, let's get in a chair (I said, \"Let's go\")\nWhen she throw that ass back, I say, \"Yeah\"\nI fuck around, get on a PJ tomorrow, and put that bitch up in the air\nFly that bitch up out of L.A. to Charlotte\nTo pick up my barber to come cut my hair\n'Cause I'm havin' it, nigga\nLook, me and my lil' bitch be dressin'\nGet the salad, lil' nigga\nHop out that bitch with that ratchet (Let's go)\nStunt lik\u0435 my motherfuckin' daddy (Yeah)\nMama, your baby a savage\nUncl\u0435 Ray hid his crack pipe in my mattress\nThis lil' nigga play with me, fuck it, I slapped him\nThought I was laughin', he see I wasn't laughin' (Hahaha)\nYou might also like\nBitch, it ain't even my birthday, but I can ball if I want to (Ball)\nPull up, foreign cars if I want to (Skrrt)\nHop out that bitch with that iron in my jumpsuit (Let's go)\nJust do what I say and I'll love you ('Kay?)\nI get this shit from my uncle\nI told bae get twenty-two inches of weave\nTonight, I wanna fuck a Rapunzel (Go, go)\nAin't fuckin' her right, you ain't pullin' her hair\n\nI pull on and grip it, lock up her arms like she getting arrested\nThrowin' her out like she getting evicted\nFuckin' me back, girl, that pussy impressive\nPut one leg right here, put the other one there\nSexy lil' flexible bitch, you a pretzel\nTryna keep up with shit, but it's levels\nAnd diamonds and Dior all over this sweater\nIt's fire on the front of my waistline\nFirst nigga try me, it's playtime\nPlay 'round, you lay down\nDoggin' her out like Cujo\nMe and her get on the floor, and we fuck like some canines\nPop a lil' nigga, gon' have to put you at the top of the list\nAin't no option, lil' nigga, they scared to let me in the room\nSomebody in that bitch gotta be blockin' my pimpin', it's Baby\nBitch, it ain't even my birthday, but I can ball if I want to (I ball)\nPull up, foreign cars if I want to (Skrrt)\nHop out that bitch with that iron in my jumpsuit (Let's go)\nJust do what I say and I'll love you ('Kay? Mwah)\nI get this shit from my uncle\nI told bae get twenty-two inches of weave\nTonight, I wanna fuck a Rapunzel (Go, go, go)\nAin't fuckin' her right, you ain't pullin' her hair"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsTaking It Out Lyrics\nI'm thinkin' 'bout takin' it out (For what?)\nIt's hard to pop shit with my grill in (Ha)\nI can't let it fuck up my flow\nLet these lil' niggas run up the score and I still win (Ha)\nI told her I'm that nigga without it (Let's go)\nHe touch me, he gon' die on the scene\nI'ma pay me a lawyer and sit in the county (Yeah)\nYou ain't built how I'm built, they ain't seen what I seen\nI don't want none of these niggas around me (Nuh-uh)\n\nAin't a nigga alive can take credit from me\nI was already lit when they found me (Nah)\nAnd these niggas just bluffin', ain't nobody touched me\nSo I know these niggas ain't 'bout it\nYou ain't slap 'em when you heard that boy talkin' down\nYou must feel the same way that he do\nAnd you know we gon' check it, I ain't really trippin'\nCan't wait 'til the day that I see you (On gang)\nYou fuck niggas glass, see-through (Ha)\nKnow I'm on they ass, Evisu (Yeah)\nAll my jewelry splash, seafood (Ha)\nSay he got a bag, me too (Nigga)\nShout out my BM, that's me, me (Me, me)\nWe pull up with like 400 rounds (Four deep)\nIt's just me and Ri, Dada and T.G. (On gang)\nI got my jewelry from Johnny (It's a movie)\nTurn on that motherfuckin' TV (Ice)\nEveryone, turn off your lights\nI bet you still motherfuckin' see me (Yeah)\nYou know it's a light show (Ha)\nPull up with that iron\nYou know I got it everywhere that I go\nReally out my mind\nCome playin' with me, he gon' die slow (Ayy, ayy)\nThey think I'm a psycho (Ha)\nLike my money blue, y'all niggas green\nI do this with my eyes closed\nPut me in a room, four hundred niggas\nGimme a blindfold\n'Cause you niggas ain't 'bout that (Bitch)\nLemme see where that mouth at\nWhen I pull out that iron\nI bet you niggas gon' wanna give that clout back\nAnd if I wasn't rich and already lit\nI'd pull up where your house at\nBut, you know God great and everything's straight\nTook a loss and I bounced back\nYou will never hear a diss, I ain't gon' say shit\nI ain't finna talk back (Ha)\nYou might also like\nI'm thinkin' 'bout takin' it out\nIt's hard to pop shit with my grill in\nI can't let it fuck up my flow\nLet these lil' niggas run up the score and I still win\nI told Her im that nigga without it\nHe touch me, he gon' die on the scene\nI'ma pay me a lawyer and sit in the county (No cap)\nYou ain't built how I'm built, they ain't seen what I seen\nI don't want none of these niggas around me, nigga\n\nHuh (Bitch ass nigga)\nAnd I'm the best motherfuckin' rapper, man\nFuck with this chop, realest nigga alive\nReal nigga, rock star\n(Nigga, quit playin' with me, I'm too raw for you)\nYeah\nBaby Jesus AKA motherfuckin' Baby now\n(Too motherfuckin' raw for this shit)\nAnd we ain't worried 'bout shit, nigga\nWe ain't worried about shit, nigga\n(It's too late now, nigga)\nFuck what you talkin' 'bout, nigga\nI'm in there now, nigga\n(Ayy)\nWe in there\n(Ayy)\nWe in there\nThat ain't DaBaby, that's my baby"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsNo Love Lyrics\nOh Lord, Jetson made another one\n\nYou don't love me, don't tell me you love me\n'Cause I can go fuck on your friend\nI can hook up with your buddy\nI ain't got time to pretend\nI'm tryna get me some cuddy\nAnd I ain\u2019t really tryna be friends\nI'd rather get to the money\n\nI tried to talk to the ho\nTold her my dreams and she looked at me funny (Ah)\nEverything I done dreamed I done done it (Yeah)\nEverything I done dreamed I done done it (Yeah)\nNow I done it, it's time for some more dreams (Yeah)\nRun it up, I need some more cream (Ho)\nThe internet world helped you know me (Ah)\nAnd I don't believe talking, so show me (Shh)\nI got the gas, you can roll it, uh\nI'm frontin' bags to my homies (Ayy)\nI'm still in the streets like I'm homeless (Yeah)\nStill sellin' P's to promoters (Yeah)\nShe ain't really fuck with me back then (Back then)\nShe don't really love me, she acting (Acting)\nI'm treating the show like the streets (Streets)\nWe pull up and count up the backend (Bitch)\nYou might also like\nYou don't love me, don't tell me you love me\n'Cause I can go fuck on your friend\nI can hook up with your buddy\nI ain't got time to pretend\nI'm tryna get me some cuddy\nAnd I ain\u2019t really tryna be friends\nI'd rather get to the money (Ayy, ayy)\nYou don't love me, don't tell me you love me (Ayy)\n'Cause I can go fuck on your friend\nI can hook up with your buddy (Ayy)\nI ain't got time to pretend\nI'm tryna get me some cuddy (Ayy)\nAnd I ain\u2019t really tryna be friends\nI'd rather get to the money\n\nWhat she do?\nShe tryna freak on the low low\nShe tryna cheat on her boyfriend\nHe keep on blowing her phone up\nPress the red button, ignore him (Aha)\nI got the bags of the low in (Ah)\nI got the bags of the O in (Ah)\nThat's a good number, don't be cheap (Cheap)\nIf you buy more than ten, it's gon' decrease\nWe selling gas like we BP (BP)\nWatch how you creep when you see me (See)\nWe on the screens of they TV (TV)\nBad bitches download my CD (C)\nSucks for you, you ain't believe me\nYou took the boy for a joke\nI held it down, I had hope\nI was down, I was broke\nThey wanted my heart and my soul\nI stay on my grind and I grow\nGot this K and this nine, I'ma blow\nI ain't wastin' no time on a ho, so bitch\nYou don't love me, don't tell me you love me\n'Cause I can go fuck on your friend\nI can hook up with your buddy\nI ain't got time to pretend\nI'm tryna get me some cuddy\nAnd I ain\u2019t really tryna be friends\nI'd rather get to the money (Ayy, ayy)\nYou don't love me, don't tell me you love me (Ah)\n'Cause I can go fuck on your friend (Ayy)\nI can hook up with your buddy (Ah)\nI ain't got time to pretend (Tend)\nI'm tryna get me some cuddy (Ayy)\nAnd I ain\u2019t really tryna be friends (Friends)\nI'd rather get to the money (Bitch)Embed"}
{"text":"63 ContributorsRed Light Green Light Lyrics\nBaby, probably in a fast car (Zoom)\nRidin' with the cap off, pull off with a bad broad (Bad broad, ooh, ooh)\nThink a nigga got here cappin'\nI am not these rappers, you gon' have to cap ya ass off\nAnd back on that big homie, park it (Big)\nHop out that bitch, whip that shit on 'em, okay (d.a. got that dope)\nPull my dick out, sit me down and she sit on it\nGive them niggas a green light, they gon' get on 'em (Huh)\nRed light, green light (Boom, boom)\n\nI'm fuckin' a bitch in my G-Nikes (Let's go)\nI hop out with that stick with that beam, like\nMy partner want see somethin' killed, that's what he like (Someone die)\nSo the first nigga tried, gon' tell G, \"Hi\"\nI been 'bout that motherfuckin' sack since a knee-high (Since a knee)\nSince a nappy-haired, black-assed, lil' peon (Let's go)\nI have emotion, I'm primetime like Deion (Have emotion)\nHow she throw it, I smash from the behind (Huh)\nHol' up, look at the fit on me (Look at the fit)\nGo get the tissue, there's shit on me (Shit)\nLie for me, die for me, kill for me (Shit)\nDick and the balls, know she lick on me (Okay)\nI told her, \"Bae, show me you love me\" (Okay, show me, bae)\n\"Let 'em know out in public\" (Let 'em know)\n\"Uh-huh, let 'em know why we fuckin'\"\nThey try me and go down, and know why I'm comin' (Doot, doot, doot)\nYuh, rich ass stepper (Bitch, the biggest)\nWhite seats, bitch, that's leather (White seats)\nI wanna fuck her and her friend\nAll her birds are the same feather, they flock together (Let's go)\nI'm dangerous, they probably tell you (What they say?)\n\"Don't play with him,\" they 'bout whatever (Don't play)\nUh, I get in there, she say I'm precious (Get in there)\nAnywhere, anytime, bitch, whoever\nBut hold up\nYou might also like\nBaby, probably in a fast car\nRidin' with the cap off, pull off with a bad broad (Zoom, zoom, zoom, zoom)\nThink a nigga got here cappin'\nI am not these rappers, you gon' have to cap ya ass off\nAnd back on that big homie, park it (Park it)\nHop out that bitch, whip that shit on 'em\nPull my dick out, sit me down and she sit on it (Okay)\nGive them niggas a green light, they gon' get on 'em\nRed light, green light (Let's go)\n\nNigga touch one of yours, he gon' see right (He gon' see)\nI'ma spend every dollar 'til he die\nI make him slide, 365, he don't think right (Doot, doot, doot, doot)\nThat's eleven months straight, niggas sleep tight\nI tried to be patient with niggas, that ain't right (Nigga try)\nGive them game they couldn't take, niggas ain't in (Uh, uh)\nRate me, one out of ten, they gon' say ten (Say ten)\nWho that bad bitch on camera? Let bae in (Okay)\nWho that is back to back, ho, that's Baby\nCan't do no shows, he fills stadiums (Yeah)\nI like my Lamborghinis 'cause they drive fast (Okay)\nBut the Maybach, that's probably my favorite whip\nI'm in the backseat with my feet up, reclinin' (Back, back)\nGet my dick rolled like a Mercedes Benz\nAnd I pop big shits, so I don't trip when they talk (Big)\nWhen you dish shit out, you gotta take it in (Okay, okay)\nI be like, hold up\nBaby, probably in a fast car\nRidin' with the cap off, pull off with a bad broad (Okay, let's go)\nThink a nigga got here cappin'\nI am not these rappers, you gon' have to cap ya ass off\nAnd back on that big homie, park it (Big)\nHop out that bitch, whip that shit on 'em (Let's go)\nPull my dick out, sit me down and she sit on it (Okay)\nGive them niggas a green light, they gon' get on 'em (Brrr)\nRed light, green light\n\nBitch, okay\nUh\nOh-oh-oh-oh-okay\nBack on that big homie, park it\nHop out that whip with that shit on 'em\nGive them niggas a green light, they gon' get on 'em (Brrr)\nPull my dick out, sit me down and she sit on it (Okay)\nRed light, green light"}
{"text":"25 ContributorsREALLY Lyrics\nSethInTheKitchen\nLet's go\n\nThey wanna know if he can rap, I tell 'em, \"Really\"\nTell my bitches, \"Call\u2005me\u2005Meek\" 'cause I\u2005done finally got a milli' (Let's\u2005go)\nYou know how bitches like to act when they get pretty\nLike to turn a nigga down, that's how I act when I get jiggy\nFuck around and tell her, \"No,\" I wanna fuck the bitch that's with ya (Huh?)\nWe out of Backwoods, shit, fuck it, get a Swisher\nSmoke a blunt, don't do no other drugs, turn up, go get some liquor\nAnd I know I look good, so take your picture, nigga\n\nAyy, bae, I know that I look good, you ain't gotta cap\nIt ain't my birthday, but I wish a nigga would, I ain't gotta rap\nBlow out a candle on her booty, that's that cake, she make it clap\nShe make it shake, we at the shack, she tryna break a nigga's back\nYeah, I skipped class, when I was a jit with no hall pass (Dropped)\nAnd I'll drop dick, I pick it up, then I haul ass\nShe say she wanna fuck, she don't wanna take a picture (Okay)\nHer pussy NyQuil, I go to sleep every time I hit her\nDon't know the password, so that ain't me if they respond on my Twitter\nI got that hot shit, these niggas gotta go rewind it to hear it\nThey know I pop shit, I'll pop a nigga right now, they know I'm with it\nAnd I only fuck with bitches if they're pretty\nYou might also like\nThey wanna know if he can rap, I tell 'em, \"Really\"\nTell my bitches, \"Call me Meek\" 'cause I done finally got a milli' (Let's go)\nYou know how bitches like to act when they get pretty\nLike to turn a nigga down, that's how I act when I get jiggy\nFuck around and tell her, \"No,\" I wanna fuck the bitch that's with ya (Huh?)\nWe out of Backwoods, shit, fuck it, get a Swisher\nSmoke a blunt, don't do no other drugs, turn up, go get some liquor\nAnd I know I look good, so take your picture\nIt's 4X, nigga\n\nThey wanna know if he can spit for real (Uh)\nHe think I'm cappin', he think I can't get him killed for real (Okay)\nAyy, try your luck, I'll drop some chip and get you zipped for real (Ayy, get him outta here)\nA couple racks ain't shit, bitch, I signed for a couple mil' (On gang)\nOh, really?\nI send shit up like I popped a wheelie\nGot rich like Roddy, I stood on that block like Meek Milly (Rich)\nRed rag, blue faces, you know my pockets Crippin'\nI pop tags and drop bags, you play they poppa, nigga (Ayy, bitch)\nAll my neighbors white folks, they be thinkin' I'm a dealer\nIt's 4X, I kill the beat 'cause I signed to a killer\nAnd I know she want me 'cause I'm a young rich nigga\nAnd I can't beef with you if you can't show me six figures, on gang\nThey wanna know if he can rap, I tell 'em, \"Really\"\nTell my bitches, \"Call me Meek\" 'cause I done finally got a milli' (Let's go)\nYou know how bitches like to act when they get pretty\nLike to turn a nigga down, that's how I act when I get jiggy\nFuck around and tell her, \"No,\" I wanna fuck the bitch that's with ya (Huh?)\nWe out of Backwoods, shit, fuck it, get a Swisher\nSmoke a blunt, don't do no other drugs, turn up, go get some liquor\nAnd I know I look good, so take your picture, nigga"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsPEEP HOLE Lyrics\n(Cook that shit up, Quay)\nGo'n light that up, man\nEvery time I turn around, I had\u2005a\u2005play outside the\u2005door\nCall 'fore you knock, nigga, call\u2005before you knock, the fuck you talkin' 'bout, nigga?\nThe neighbors\u205fthink\u205fI'm\u205fsellin' dope\nGo\n\nBaby, he\u205fdon't wanna be\u205fa player no more\nI was lookin' out the peephole with it\nEvery time I turned around, I had a play outside the door\nNow a nigga goin' beast mode with it\nI got fifteen beds, we ain't layin' on the floor (Fifteen, fifteen beds)\nI done hit a lotta freak hoes\nNigga, guess safe, safe for you to say that I'm a ho\nI'm out the game, I'm not a player anymore\n\nI got money to bail out\nWon't pull over, they know we gon' bail out\nDrop the window, turn right, throw the scale out\nFuck you mean we don't ride with no scale now?\nWe sell them bitches whole (We sell them bitches whole)\nI had 'em knockin' at my door, I used to have 'em for the low\nMy neighbors think I'm sellin' dope (Neighbors think I'm sellin' dope)\nI had the AC on, every winter, young nigga had the burner in his coat\nI hit a nigga with the fan\nI hop out, Glock out, I was takin' pictures with the fans\nI can show you how to ride without a tool\nAll them times I hit the middleman\nAll them times I took a nigga off\nNigga wanna be a boss\nBut ain't have what it took to be the boss\nShe didn't know what it took to be my bitch\nI ain't know what it took until I lost (Huh)\nYou might also like\nBaby, he don't wanna be a player no more\nI was lookin' out the peephole with it\nEvery time I turned around, I had a play outside the door\nNow a nigga goin' beast mode with it\nI got fifteen beds, we ain't layin' on the floor (Fifteen, fifteen beds)\nI done hit a lotta freak hoes\nNigga, guess safe, safe for you to say that I'm a ho\nI'm out the game, I'm not a player anymore\n\nI always be a pimp, I'm not a player, I get it\nI'm wipin' all those bitches off my radar, no kizzy\nKirk, I'm always on the charts like I'm Drizzy\nDirk, fadeaway, I get you shot like Nowitzki\nCan't wait to do the show when I'm in Dallas\nWe be eatin' healthy on the low, she made a salad\nI been gettin' money on the low, it\u2019s hard to hide it\nMy baby like to fuck me on the floor, I let her ride it\nIt's off the top, I ever make a song, I never write it\nI'm a GRAMMY-nominated hitmaker\nLame-nigga-bitch taker, fuck the police\nYou yellin' with a gun, now how the fuck we gon' think?\nYou take my daughter daddy, how the fuck she gon' eat?\nI kill me a cop, what the fuck they gon' think?\nProbably hang on the tree\nI'm dangerous, I keep a banger on me\nGotta drop down and pray 'fore I sleep (Lord)\nBaby, he don't wanna be a player no more\nI was lookin' out the peephole with it\nEvery time I turned around, I had a play outside the door\nNow a nigga goin' beast mode with it\nI got fifteen beds, we ain't layin' on the floor (Fifteen, fifteen beds)\nI done hit a lotta freak hoes\nNigga, guess safe, safe for you to say that I'm a ho\nI'm out the game, I'm not a player anymore\nBaby, he don't wanna be a player no more (Yeah)\nI was lookin' out the peephole with it\nEvery time I turned around, I had a play outside the door\nNow a nigga goin' beast mode with it\nI got fifteen beds, we ain't layin' on the floor (Fifteen, fifteen beds)\nI done hit a lotta freak hoes\nNigga, guess safe, safe for you to say that I'm a ho\nI'm out the game, I'm not a player anymore"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsNO DRIBBLE Lyrics\nI'ma shoot at a nigga, no dribble (Go)\nI pull up with two hundred 'bows in\u2005my\u2005rental (Go, go,\u2005go)\nThey was already sold when I\u2005sent 'em (Gone)\nTake a Backwood, I put strong in the middle (Let's go)\nOn these lil' niggas' ass and they feel it\nI hit a lil' bit of gas and I peel it (Zoom)\nShe like to talk when she fuck, she a freak\nShe got a lil' bit of ass and it jiggle (Go)\nI'ma shoot at a nigga, no dribble (Go)\nI pull up with two hundred 'bows in my rental (Go, go, go)\nThey was already sold when I sent 'em (Gone)\nTake a Backwood, I put strong in the middle (Let's go)\nOn these lil' niggas' ass and they feel it\nI hit a lil' bit of gas and I peel it (Zoom)\nShe like to talk when she fuck, she a freak\nShe got a lil' bit of ass and it jiggle (Go)\n\nJiggle, jiggle, jiggle, jiggle (Ah)\nI give her dick, she walk out like it's Thriller (Yeah)\nShe do a dance on a the dick, make a Triller (Dance)\nMake a TikTok on the dick, she official (Go)\nCheck my wristwatch, that's a motherfuckin' blizzard (Bling)\nIcy, icy, icy, icy\nShe thinkin' 'bout sexin' a nigga, she like me\nI'm having checks on me, nigga, I'm Nike\nDo it, do it, do it, do it\nThese go for thirty-three, these bitches Ewings (Ews)\nThey put the box in the air and they flew it (Vroom)\nSoon as they drop over there, they run through it\nRun it, run it, run it, run it (Go, go)\nBroke nigga unemployed, the nigga Tommy\nHe want a job, I paid him for the body\nPulled up beside 'em lookin' like my mommy\nYou might also like\nI'ma shoot at a nigga, no dribble (Go)\nI pull up with two hundred 'bows in my rental (Go, go, go)\nThey was already sold when I sent 'em (Gone)\nTake a Backwood, I put strong in the middle (Let's go)\nOn these lil' niggas' ass and they feel it\nI hit a lil' bit of gas and I peel it (Zoom)\nShe like to talk when she fuck, she a freak\nShe got a lil' bit of ass and it jiggle (Go)\nI'ma shoot at a nigga, no dribble (Go)\nI pull up with two hundred 'bows in my rental (Go, go, go)\nThey was already sold when I sent 'em (Gone)\nTake a Backwood, I put strong in the middle (Let's go)\nOn these lil' niggas' ass and they feel it\nI hit a lil' bit of gas and I peel it (Zoom)\nShe like to talk when she fuck, she a freak\nShe got a lil' bit of ass and it jiggle (Go)\n\nI'ma shoot a nigga off the dribble (Bah)\nI don't wanna argue, I'm poppin' his pimple (Poppin' his pimple)\nShe a freak, give me top through the zipper (Thot)\nShe dance on the D, I ain't finna tip her (Uh-uh)\nI make her blush, I spent a bunch on my dutch (I make her blush)\nI get him flushed, they let off a flood in his rental (Boom, boom)\nI want him touched, then I put a ton on his mental (I want him touched)\nWe fill him with lead, he a pencil (Fill him up)\nFold that fuck nigga up like a pretzel, uh\nI swing that stick like Wayne Gretzky (Baow)\nStill in the field like a taxi (Uh)\nI put dick on her, then hit her bestie (Uh-huh)\nShe give me face time, no textin' (Face time, no textin')\nI'm havin' cake like a wedding (Cake)\nNigga play with this shit, it get deadly\nAyy, bitch-ass nigga, cuh\nI'ma shoot at a nigga, no dribble (Do it)\nI pull up with two hundred 'bows in my rental (Do it, do it, go)\nThey was already sold when I sent 'em (Gone)\nTake a Backwood, I put strong in the middle (Let's go)\nOn these lil' niggas' ass and they feel it\nI hit a lil' bit of gas and I peel it (Zoom)\nShe like to talk when she fuck, she a freak\nShe got a lil' bit of ass and it jiggle (Go)\nI'ma shoot at a nigga, no dribble (Do it)\nI pull up with two hundred 'bows in my rental (Do it, do it, go)\nThey was already sold when I sent 'em (Gone)\nTake a Backwood, I put strong in the middle (Let's go)\nOn these lil' niggas' ass and they feel it\nI hit a lil' bit of gas and I peel it (Zoom)\nShe like to talk when she fuck, she a freak\nShe got a lil' bit of ass and it jiggle (Go)"}
{"text":"49 ContributorsTHERE HE GO Lyrics\nHuh? (We got London on da Track) Okay\nLook (I'm in London got my beat from\u2005London)\n\nYou\u2005know I ain't\u2005never had shit (Okay)\nNow I'm somewhere\u2005in a meeting getting my ass kissed (No Homo)\nBy a white man 'cause his daughter fuck with my ad-libs (Uh-oh)\nI done dropped dick in her friend, I'm like, \"My bad, sis\" (My bad)\nThat nigga act like he too good, even for a bad bitch (Uh-huh)\n\nI'm a buy a Lambo 'fore this album hit the fans, bitch\nTell the valet park my shit at the front, I'ma hit the gas bitch (Let's go)\nI just did five shows, three days, came out with the bag, bitch (Bag)\nPockets swole, 45K and a four-five, so I sag, bitch\nIf a fat bitch know how to get some money, I'll fuck a fat bitch (Uh-huh, uh-huh)\nGotta show coming up in London and got London on da Track, bitch (Yuh)\nI give a fan a high five in the airport, she did a backflip (Oh my God, ahh)\nI just went Platinum and I'm coming back like\n\nHuh? Okay\nLooking for me?\nHuh? Okay\nLooking for me?\nHere I go\nYou might also like\nMan, fuck Baby\nThat little nigga in there (Salt)\nShe really selling pussy, she act like she selling swimwear (Okay)\nA couple thousand to your name, act like a millionaire\nBut I don't knock your hustle, get it out the mud, I been there (Uh-huh)\nMan, I'm so tired of a nigga talking 'bout who broke like we ain't all came up from the bottom (Okay)\nWe came up, I give 'em hope\nAnd way before a nigga signed, I made a rhyme, I was providing for my side (Uh-huh)\nNo, I had them low, and they had them high\nYou shop with me, you ain't gotta lie (Yeah)\nNow a nigga legit, huh\nFifty thousand just to walk through and do my one-two on yo bitch, huh\nAnd bougie hoes, they wanna fuck with me, now I got 'em all on my dick now\nLike Lil Baby, four pockets all full of money, can't fit now\nMan, I pull up, niggas howlin'\n\nHuh? Okay\nLooking for me?\nHuh? Okay\nLooking for me?\nHere I go\n\nYou know I ain't never had shit, okay\nNow I'm somewhere in a meeting getting my ass kissed (No Homo)\nBy a white man 'cause his daughter fuck with my ad-libs (Uh-oh)\nI done dropped dick in her friend, I'm like, \"My bad, sis\" (My bad)\nThat nigga act like he too good, even for a bad bitch"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsSHUT UP Lyrics\nKeep it poppin'\nYeah, bitch (We poppin')\nLet me pop 'em\nUh-huh, hold on (Mhm), let me, let\u2005me\u2005pop 'em\nLet me\u2005pop it\nLet me pop it, nah,\u2005what you say? What you say? What you say?\nLook\n\nLil' nigga, shut up (Shut up, bitch)\nI got a problem, bitches keep callin' (Brrt)\nI need a new number (Shut up, bitch)\nThey know I'm the shit (Prrt, ew)\nI need a plunger (Mhm, yeah)\nLook at my bitch (Goddamn)\nI think I love her (Okay, let's go, yeah, let me go)\n\nHow they let Baby get rich? (Let's go)\nHe be broad day with them sticks (Let's go)\nI do not play with no bitch (Don't play)\nAnd I been that way since like six (Yeah)\nAnd I was smokin' weed at age five (Five)\nMy cousin doin' life, he crip (He crip)\nI be jumpin' off the stage at my shows\nKevin Gates hoes grabbin' on my dick (Yeah, yeah)\nYou lookin' for a lawsuit, pullin' out your camera\nDidn't think I saw you (Yeah, bitch)\nHad to stop takin' pictures 'cause y'all be in your feelings and I don't like to argue (Yeah, bitch)\nWanna see me on The Shade Room lookin' for a come up, wanna see me pay you, huh? (Bitch)\nAnd I'm the neighborhood hero but I don't got my cape on 'cause I'm not trying to save you, no (Bitch)\nI be like\nYou might also like\nLil' nigga, shut up (Shut up, bitch)\nI got a problem, bitches keep callin' (Brrt)\nI need a new number (Shut up, bitch)\nThey know I'm the shit (Prrt, ew)\nI need a plunger (Mhm, yeah)\nLook at my bitch (Goddamn)\nI think I love her (Let's go, let me go, yeah, yeah)\nLil' nigga, shut up (Shut up, bitch)\nI got a problem, bitches keep callin' (Brrt)\nI need a new number (Shut up, bitch)\nThey know I'm the shit (Prrt, ew)\nI need a plunger (Mhm, yeah)\nLook at my bitch (Goddamn)\nI think I love her (Okay, let's go, yeah, let me go)\n\nNumber one album first week (First week)\nBoujee on a bitch, I 'on't speak (Yeah)\nHow the fuck his songs sound the same? (How?)\nBut he laughing to the bank every week? (Ha)\nLook at Baby shootin' past niggas (Shoot)\nTurn up on a stupid-ass nigga (Fool)\nShe was real skinny when I met her (What you do?)\nFucked her 'til her booty got bigger (Mhm, oh)\nI'ma let you niggas stay lost, let you listen to the blogs, let you think I ain't the goat (Huh? Uh)\nWalk in with a big .45 and it's already cocked when I pull it out, don't run (Boom, boom, boom)\nYour nigga know I'm still 'bout whatever (Aha)\nTook his bitch and my bitch out together\nHold on, hold on man, stop that motherfuckin' music\nMan, I'm the best muthafuckin' rapper\nNo, you not, all your shit sound the same\n\nLil' nigga, shut up (Shut up, bitch)\nI got a problem, bitches keep callin' (Brrt)\nI need a new number (Shut up, bitch)\nThey know I'm the shit (Prrt, ew)\nI need a plunger (Mhm, yeah)\nLook at my bitch (Goddamn)\nI think I love her (Okay, let's go, yeah, let me go)\nLil' nigga, shut up (Shut up, bitch)\nI got a problem, bitches keep callin' (Brrt)\nI need a new number (Shut up, bitch)\nThey know I'm the shit (Prrt, ew)\nI need a plunger (Mhm, yeah)\nLook at my bitch (Goddamn)\nI think I love her (Okay, let's go, yeah, let me go)\n\nI heard he beat his fans\nI heard he don't like to take pictures\nI heard he married\nNo, he not\nI just wanted a picture\nHe beat 'em to a coma\nI heard he fucked with ol' girl\nHe's Illuminati\nHe moved to Charlotte when he was seven\nAll y'all shut the fuck up, suck my dick, nigga\nI work too hard to be explaining myself\nI'm gone\nShut the fuck up, nigga, ha"}
{"text":"18 ContributorsPROLLY HEARD Lyrics\nProlly heard I was broke from a broke nigga (Uh)\nProlly heard I'm a ho from\u2005a\u2005ho\nI don't know\u2005what you know\nI ain't runnin' from\u2005no nigga (Let's go)\nThese bitches be waitin' in line after shows\nI don't want fuck with her, let my bro hit her (No)\nI'm the first one to come out of Charlotte (Okay)\nNiggas know I put on for that four, nigga\n\n'Bout to buy a new Lambo, let's go, nigga (Vroom)\nTired of sellin' them zips, get a 'bow, nigga (Huh?)\nMe and Da used to post at the store (No cap)\nGucci Mane in '06, swing my door, nigga (Yeah)\nI told her I keep hearin' voices (Uh-huh)\nWhy he rich and he keep wearin' Forces? (Yeah)\nThese niggas, they lactose-intolerant (How 'bout you?)\nBitch, I'm married to cheese, no divorcin'\nBitch, you can't get a ring if you want it\nI pull up with a bitch that's so thick, think I'm Norbit (Mmm)\nI'm slammin' the ho like I'm O'Neal (Mmm)\nShe want money for pussy, bitch, no deal (No)\nYou can bet if I fuck, it's a freebie (Free)\nBitches pay VIP just to see me (Uh-huh)\nI'm a shark, he a shrimp, nigga, peewee (Shrimp)\nFuck a rapper, I spit on his CD (Pfft)\nBitch ass nigga\nYou might also like\nProlly heard I was broke from a broke nigga (Uh)\nProlly heard I'm a ho from a ho\nI don't know what you know\nI ain't runnin' from no nigga (Let's go)\nThese bitches be waitin' in line after shows\nI don't want fuck with her, let my bro hit her (No)\nI'm the first one to come out of Charlotte (Okay)\nNiggas know I put on for that four, nigga (That four)\nProlly heard I was broke from a broke nigga (Let's go, ah)\nProlly heard I'm a ho from a ho\nI don't know what you know\nI ain't runnin' from no nigga (Let's go)\nThese bitches be waitin' in line after shows\nI don't want fuck with her, let my bro hit her (No, bitch)\nI'm the first one to come out of Charlotte (Okay, huh?)\nNiggas know I put on for that four, nigga (Let's go)\n\nI'm still in the city, bitch, no doubt (Yeah)\nGotta give me six figures to go out (Yes sir)\nI count up fifty K for a walk-through (Count up)\nHe try me at my show, we gon' show out (Bitch)\nI just left the club with your ho, fucked her right on the floor (Mmm)\nSay I fucked up her blowout (My bad)\nMy bad, boo, I thought that was weave\nOrange juice, the first nigga try me, I squeeze (Let's go)\nBefore I fucked her, fucked a few of her friends\nCan you tell her stop callin' me, please? (Brr)\nBitches know I'm a dog off the leash\nA big dawg, niggas call me \"OG\" (OG)\nCrossed that line with us, he can't come back and say, \"Sorry\"\nMy city, they call that a plea\nLet these rap niggas lie like it's sweet\nI'm from Charlotte, you die when it's beef, nigga\nProlly heard I was broke from a broke nigga (Let's go)\nProlly heard I'm a ho from a ho\nI don't know what you know\nI ain't runnin' from no nigga (Okay)\nThese bitches be waitin' in line after shows (Yeah)\nI don't want fuck with her, let my bro hit her (Yeah, no, bitch)\nI'm the first one to come out of Charlotte (Okay)\nNiggas know I put on for that four, nigga (That four)\nProlly heard I was broke from a broke nigga (Let's go, ah)\nProlly heard I'm a ho from a ho\nI don't know what you know\nI ain't runnin' from no nigga (Let's go)\nThese bitches be waitin' in line after shows\nI don't want fuck with her, let my bro hit her (No, no, bitch)\nI'm the first one to come out of Charlotte (Okay, huh?)\nNiggas know I put on for that four, nigga (Let's go)"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsCAN\u2019T STOP Lyrics\nEverything Foreign, haha\nYeah\nBitch, it ain't no stoppin' no nigga like me\nBitch, it ain't no stoppin'\u2005no\u2005nigga like me,\u2005let's go\n(New album, nigga, yeah)\nBaby, on\u2005Baby, on Baby (Fuck, fuck, new album)\nBaby, on Baby, on\u205fmotherfuckin'\u205fBaby\u205f(Aw, shit, aw,\u205fshit)\nFuck you talkin'\u205f'bout, nigga?\n\nBitch, it ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nThis the intro, watch me get into it (Let's go)\nBitches call me a cutie, I'm groovy\nMy daughter took care of forever off music (Muah)\nScreaming, \"Fly high,\" to Kobe, Gianna, we ballin'\nI can't tell you shit about losin' (R.I.P.)\nFinger fuck allegations, keep hatin'\nI'm patiently waitin' on niggas to prove it (You bitch)\nBitch, you know I turn piss into lemonade\nTurn shit into sugar, that's chocolate pudding\nLet you know I don't fuck with you anyway (Hmmgh)\nKnow I keep getting better, you thought that I wouldn't\nI'ma keep lettin' off, I'm a renegade\nThe media blitzed and I took off and shook 'em\nCame out like a boss and they feel a way (Ha)\nGon' end up gettin' fucked, you keep thinkin' I'm pussy\nBitch, I'm 'bout my business, it's all about timin'\nWhen I put this shit on, I don't cop from no stylist\nI'm all on the TV and net, I'm too viral\nI pull up with a vibe, when we hop out, we vibin'\nI like movin' in silence, don't bother nobody\nHe come bother me, I'ma catch me a body\nI don't get into politics, I just be poppin' shit\nObviously hot as a motherfuckin' fire (Hot)\nLet me cool off a minute\nI got nothin' to hide, I don't run from my problems\nJust tryna get you out my business (You bitch)\nOnly answer to God, I'm already convicted\nIf I'm havin' you as my witness (Uh-huh)\nHaving hoes at my shows, tryna take off they clothes\nI don't know what to do with them bitches (Let's go, huh)\nYou know it's Baby, nigga\nLet's go\nYou might also like\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me, let's go\nOh, no, bitch\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me (I just can't motherfuckin' stop, man)\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me (I just can't stop)\nLet's go, bitch (And they can't motherfuckin' stop me)\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me (I know this shit frustratin', man, like I know)\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me, bitch\n(I know it's frustratin' for you niggas, dawg)\nHuh? Bitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me (I know it's frustratin' for you bitches, dawg)\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me (Ain't no stoppin' no nigga like me)\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\n\nVerse two\nYou do what you want when you poppin' (Let's pop)\nGuess I do what I want, plus I'm single as fuck\nSee my boo in the cut, I got options (Muah)\nKnow I'm all up her skirt like a stockin' (Mmm)\nMy album make hoes call me Kirk like my mama\nI see how they peepin' the technique and jockin'\nAll these icy VVS on my neck, let's play hockey (Bling, bling)\nI'm guessin' that he brought a stick, 'cause I brought a stick (Yeah)\nAnd I ain't the type to be payin' for pussy\nI fuck hoes for free, never bought a bitch\nHold me up to the sun, I'm not counterfeit (Yeah, yeah)\nI just got a new gun from my bottom bitch\nAnd I'm ready to slang it, I'm armed and I'm dangerous (Boom, boom, boom)\nCome fuckin' with me, better find a ditch\nAnd throw yourself in it 'cause that's how I'm living\nWhen I get in my feelings, I make niggas feel it\nWhen I hit yo lil' bitch, I put dick in her kidneys\nOn a date with my new ho, I took her to Wendy's\nWe ain't going in, get that shit from the window\nTake that ho through the drive-thru\nKeep playin' me like a ho, we gon' slide through\nIt's cool, I'ma let you act up on the internet\nLet's see you niggas act tough when I find you\nBitch ass nigga and umm...\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me, huh?\nNah, bitch (Fuck)\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nLet's go, bitch\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nOh, no, bitch (I wish the fuck I would let a bitch ass nigga stop this shit)\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me (Or a bitch, can't no bitch or no bitch ass nigga stop this shit, dawg)\nBitch, you know ain't no stopping no nigga like me\n\nBaby, on Baby, on motherfuckin' Baby, nigga\nLet's get it"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsGucci Peacoat Lyrics\nLately, I been in my feelings like a ho\nI ain't been really havin' hope 'cause I been missin' my bro\nI was at the polls in a Gucci Peacoat\nTryna tell all y'all bitch-ass niggas, \"Come vote\"\nDamn, bruh, you aren't the only one who felt alone\nI been feelin' lonely too, I probably say it every song\nLookin' at my nieces, broke me down to pieces\nCryin' at the hospital, askin' \"Why you leave us?\"\n\nLookin' at my nephew and he think his daddy breathin'\nBut his daddy took his life and we can't get it back, damn, nigga\nBefore I let you do that, would've killed a hundred niggas\nWhere th\u0435 fuck them hundred niggas at?\nAnd you the r\u0435ason that your baby brother cutthroat\nYou the reason baby brother love gun smoke\nI was playin' with your guns in the closet\nWould've had a bullet and I probably would've popped it\nWe grew up 'round drugs, sex, poverty and violence\nWasn't hard to tell in high school you caught a body\n'Cause when you walked in, I saw the way you looked at mommy\nI saw everything, nigga, I'm your baby brother, nigga\nAnd when you walked in, seen that look in your eyes\nYou told me that you got some demons\nTold me back then that you weren't scared to die\nYou told me you already seen it\nI was ten years old, nigga (2001, when I was ten)\nYou and Ri' was tryna make me be a good boy\nI was tryna be my big bro, nigga (I was tryna be my big bro)\nI was born in this shit, they had the hood so\nAin't nobody touch me 'cause they know, nigga (Know)\nCould've talked you out that stupid ass shit, but I was busy talkin' niggas into votin', nigga\nMan, fuck the President, long live G, nigga\nYou might also like\nLately, I been in my feelings like a ho\nI ain't been really havin' hope 'cause I been missin' my bro\nI was at the polls in a Gucci Peacoat\nTryna tell all y'all bitch-ass niggas, \"Come vote\"\nDamn, bruh, you aren't the only one who felt alone\nI been feelin' lonely too, I probably say it every song\nLookin' at my nieces, broke me down to pieces\nCryin' at the hospital, askin' \"Why you leave us?\"\n\nMan, bro, I was just callin', man, just to say thank you, man\nYou know, uh, I ain't never seen you in the position that you in today\nAs a grown-ass man, as an individual\nAs you just bein' who you are\nI ain't no better than you\nBut what you've given me the opportunity just to be able to live\nEnjoy life, be happy, do what I'm passionate about\nAlthough I know it really derived from God, you know what I'm sayin' like?\nBruh, thank you very fuckin' much, I love you, my nigga, I swear to God\nLove you too, bruh\nI don't, I don't know how much I can convey that, I don't know how much more I can say that\nLove you too\nYou know, I made my mistakes, but for the opportunity I have right in front of me right now\nBruh, I thank you man, like for real, for real, I thank you, Jon, thank you\nYou welcome, bro\nMama, don't cry, your firstborn is at peace\nAin't no more shakin' all night in his sleep, he free\nI love you, nigga, we miss you, nigga\nMama, don't cry, your firstborn is at peace\nAin't no more shakin' all night in the sleep, he free\n\nLately, I been in my feelings like a ho\nI ain't been really havin' hope 'cause I been missin' my bro\nI was at the polls in a Gucci Peacoat\nTryna tell all y'all bitch-ass niggas, \"Come vote\"\nDamn, bruh, you aren't the only one who felt alone\nI been feelin' lonely too, I probably say it every song\nLookin' at my nieces, broke me down to pieces\nCryin' at the hospital, askin' \"Why you leave us?\""}
{"text":"28 ContributorsCarpet Burn Lyrics\nI'm the type to take your ho in real life\nI fucked her good all on the floor like, \"What it feel like?\"\n(Oh lord, Jetson made another one)\n\nGot up with carpet burns (Yeah), I just can't help it\nPussy good, it had me stalkin' her (Woo)\nLock me up, officer (I)\nCan't get her off me, it's hard for me to get off of her (Uh huh)\nGot me thinkin' 'bout cuffin' her (What else?)\nFallin' in love with her (Ha)\n\nJoke's on you, bitch (Yeah)\n'Cause I tell a ho what she wanna hear and pull up with a new bitch (Uh huh)\nYou already know if I walk out the door I ain't leavin' with you, bitch (No)\nMy bitch got red hair like Lil Boat, that's my lil' cute bitch (Ah)\nHer pussy wet, her mouth and neck just like a cruise ship (Ayy)\nYou probably still fuckin' them hoes I went to school with (Ha)\nYou probably askin' around about me on some nut shit (What up?)\nI be done shot in broad daylight, I'm on that fuck shit (Bop)\n\"Why we can't fuck, you just want head?\" 'Cause you a duck, bitch (Yes)\nI send a ho to get some cheesecake on some Puff shit (Ha)\nI'll be done fucked in front your kid, I'm on some sick shit (He sick)\nI'm closin' million-dollar deals gettin' my dick licked (Yes)\nI got 'em shitfaced (Ha), all of 'em bitch made (Yeah)\nI'm all in her crib in nothin' but draws bumpin' my mixtape (Ha)\nShe sick of you, your bitch want me 'cause all my shit straight\nShe gave me head and I played dead, we did the six-eight (I)\nYou might also like\nGot up with carpet burns (Yeah), I just can't help it\nPussy good, it had me stalkin' her (Woo)\nLock me up, officer (I)\nCan't get her off me, it's hard for me to get off of her (Uh huh)\nGot me thinkin' 'bout cuffin' her (What else?)\nFallin' in love with her (Ha)\nGot up with carpet burns (Yeah), I just can't help it\nPussy good, it had me stalkin' her (Woo)\nLock me up, officer (I)\nCan't get her off me, it's hard for me to get off of her (Uh huh)\nGot me thinkin' 'bout cuffin' her (What else?)\nFallin' in love with her (Ha)"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsDROP Lyrics\nWe got London on da Track\nMy voice kinda fucked up for this one (Uh, uh)\nYeah\n\nThey\u2005thought\u2005it was over\u2005'til I pulled up in the\u2005drop\nI ran the light and hit the gas (Yeah, yeah)\nShe like it when I hit her with my chain on and my watch (Yes, sir)\nShe say, \"Record,\" I use the flash with it (Yeah)\nShe always been a good girl, but she fuck me like a thot (Okay)\nI take my time, I have her blastin' (Yeah)\nShe know that nigga think he fuckin' with me, but he not\nShe say I'm nothin' like her last nigga\n\nThought that it was over, but I'm back now\nI run up them racks and now them hoes know how to act now\nLooking for the truth? You found a nigga\nThought I was a one hit wonder 'til I dropped the album, didn't it?\nThought I was just like you 'til I bought a new car\nPull up in that bitch, like vroom\nAnd I dropped your boo off\nYou'll probably pick her up later\nI probably pick up a quarter million and shit on a hater\nAnd it ain't a nigga gave me shit, but I did plenty of favors\nI'm talking favors\nFavors you ain't deserve and you ain't want that (Yeah, yeah)\nPassin' out these loans that I don't want back (Yeah, yeah)\nBy the time you cross the line, I let you go back (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nAnd now I pull up, drop the window, yell out\nYou might also like\nThey thought it was over 'til I pulled up in the drop (Let's go)\nI ran the light and hit the gas (Yeah, yeah)\nShe like it when I hit her with my chain on and my watch (Yes, sir)\nShe say, \"Record,\" I use the flash with it (Yeah)\nShe always been a good girl, but she fuck me like a thot (Okay)\nI take my time, I have her blastin' (Yeah)\nShe know that nigga think he fuckin' with me, but he not\nShe say I'm nothin' like her last nigga (Yeah)\n\nLook, I ain't trippin', I already got more money than my opps\nI'm just trying to get more money than last year\nDon't argue with 'em, we take care of any problem that we got\nI just hope when it's over, you got my back, uh-huh\nAnd I ain't nothin' like your last\nLook, I ain't nothing like your last nigga, you buggin', I run it up\nHad to stack my bread up, I was sick of feelin' regular\nNiggas out here drillin' her and you worried about impressin' her (Yeah)\nI swear he's not me\nIf he ain't with the shits, then he not with me (Yeah)\nI'm icy as a motherfucker, golly\nWhy the fuck wouldn't they wanna rob me?\n\nThey thought it was over 'til I pulled up in the drop\nI ran the light and hit the gas (Yeah, yeah)\nShe like it when I hit her with my chain on and my watch (Yes, sir)\nShe say, \"Record,\" I use the flash with it (Yeah)\nShe always been a good girl, but she fuck me like a thot (Okay)\nI take my time, I have her blastin' (Yeah)\nShe know that nigga think he fuckin' with me, but he not\nShe say I'm nothin' like her last nigga (Yeah)"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsGiving What It\u2019s Supposed To Give Lyrics\nAll the niggas who played with me who dead, them niggas ain't want to live (Uzoma, come here, no)\nShe gave me head and that head was givin' what it's supposed to give\nI came out here and got on, 'cause I was doin' what I was supposed to did\nThe way she ate me up and ate them kids, I don't think she want no kids (Let's go)\n\nThese niggas beefin' for IG, but bitch, I want to kill\nKept gettin' blessed, 'cause bitch, I hustled, I ain't wanna steal\nI'll whip this bitch out now in front of all these cameras, niggas know what it is\nMy hitta out here slidin' with a warrant, I think he want it still\nThem pussies pulled me over on the lil' four-way (Four-way)\nThe DA asked me for a picture, I wore Dior to my last court date\nNigga ask if I got a pass, I tell 'em, \"No way\" (No way)\nBitch, we like AIDS, I'm on your ass, we on your ass, bitch, we won't go 'way (Go 'way)\nI think I need to change the scenery, a new main (Somethin' new)\nA fine ho (Yes sir), boo thang\nThinkin' about checkin' me about a ho, gon' see a blue flame\nOff the front of the Glick when I start hittin', so tie your shoestring (Nyoom)\nHe's a runner, he's a track star\nThese tough ass niggas that rap ain't really that, these niggas just act hard\nI came in this bitch too real, I had to chill, almost got blackballed\nJust talked to my CPA, said I'm approved for my new Black Card\n\nAll the niggas who played with me who dead, them niggas ain't want to live (Bitch ass nigga)\nShe gave me head and that head was givin' what it's supposed to give\nI came out here and got on, 'cause I was doin' what I was supposed to did\nThe way she ate me up and ate them kids, I don't think she want no kids (Go, go)\nYou might also like\nThe way he got that look up in his eyes, then he must wanna die (Huh)\nNigga, I'm gon' make your mama cry 'fore you make my mama cry\nI stay up out the way and mind my business 'cause I'm certified (Certified)\nUh-oh, that nigga done made me mad, okay, it's murder night\nHalf a million worth of chains, it probably hurt your eye (Bling)\nI set my time and won the race, they givin' first place to the turtle now\nBrought 'em back, I need endorsements on the turtleneck\nJust taught the freak how to talk back, she done turned herself to a Squirtle now (Squirtle)\nNo disrespect, but girl, that pussy wet\nSo you gon' have to get up and get the fuck up out my bed\nCome showin' off for them hoes and we gon' paint the city red\nThe last nigga that played with me, that nigga dead (Than a motherfucker)\n\nAll the niggas who played with me who dead, them niggas ain't want to live (I'm talkin' dead as hell)\nShe gave me head and that head was givin' what it's supposed to give\nI came out here and got on, 'cause I was doin' what I was supposed to did (Oh, oh)\nThe way she ate me up and ate them kids, I don't think she want no kids\n\nNigga, bitch\nWho's gon' trip on me 'bout that ho?\nI'm the one gettin', goddamn, my soul snatched\nYou the one gettin' the kisses\nShit, you winnin'\nLame-ass nigga"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u04391Night Lyrics\nI know you want this for life\nTaking pictures with all my ice\nBut I can't have no wife\nI just want you for the night\nI know you want this for life\nTaking pictures with all my ice\nBut I can't have no wife\nI just want you for the night (just for the night)\n\nI know you want this for life\nFuck you so good you be calling out the Christ (oh my God)\nBottles of the Tech got it laid on ice\nWe spent four seasons at the Four Seasons twice\nYou be calling all your homegirls like \"I'm his wife\"\nHell nah, you trippin', reevaluate your life\nI can't love no bitch, every single hoe is trife\nI sip dirty Sprite just to get me through the night\nBut I need you there (I need you there)\nPromise that I need you there\nAin't no other bitch gon' fuck me like you do, I swear\nPut that on my gang I swear\nI just can't put you on front street like you want I know\nBut baby you is not no hoe\nAnd I put it on my gang I'm not no average joe (average joe)\nIt's Yachty from the block you know\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nI know you want this for life\nTaking pictures with all my ice\nBut I can't have no wife\nI just want you for the night\nI know you want this for life\nTaking pictures with all my ice\nBut I can't have no wife\nI just want you for the night"}
{"text":"Ricky Racks\nPeek-a-boo, woo!\nPeek-a-boo\n\nUh, uh, play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh\nPlay with these bitches like peek-a-boo, uh\nBroke ass bitch ass nigga\nI'm not finna play with you, that's what these rappers do\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, bitch\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga\nLil Boat\nI'm not finna play with you, that's what these rappers do\n\nRed dot, red dot, red dot, red dot, red dot\nOn his nose like Rudolph\nPull up to the scene, all white with the roof off\nTake that lil' bitch to the Ruth's Chris\nFuck her, then fuck on her sister, I'm ruthless\nChill on the 6 when I'm fuckin' on pucchi\nThat bitch was ugly, but pussy on smoothie (wet)\nPlay with that kitty like hello\nTake a step back then I bust it, I bust it, I bust it like Melo\nAimin' at you and your fellows\nMy new bitch yellow\nShe blow that dick like a cello\nFuck her then send that bitch home on the metro\nOoh, young nigga fly like a pigeon\nVercetti frames, they be hidin' my vision\nMake sure all my niggas eat, that's the mission\nNo more wishin', I'ma go get it, go get it, I got it\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nUh, uh, play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh\nPlay with these bitches like peek-a-boo, uh\nBroke ass bitch ass nigga\nI'm not finna play with you, that's what these rappers do\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, bitch\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga\nI'm not finna play with you, that's what these rappers do\n\nOpen your eyes, bitch you see all this money\nMade that lil' bitch tape a brick to her stomach\nYou not the gang, we don't kick it or punt it\nJust bought the Wraith and I wrapped it, titanic\nLook at the numbers, mechanics ain't frontin'\nI came from the lick, went to jail, I got punished, ooh\nPullin' up foreign, Freddy Kreuger, wow\nMy niggas turn barracuda\nYou cappin', I came from trappin'\nI used to have the dope stashed in the cabinet (dope!)\nMama couldn't tell me shit, where was my daddy? (Mom)\nLook at my Patek, I'm flexin', I'm petty (I'm petty)\nI fucked the pussy the first time I met it\nWon't give you no credit, you Eddie spaghetti\nI cook the brick, cut the brick with machetes\nMarried the money, the bitch wasn't ready, uh, uh\nUh, uh, play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh\nPlay with these bitches like peek-a-boo, uh\nBroke ass bitch ass nigga\nI'm not finna play with you, that's what these rappers do\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, bitch\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga\nI'm not finna play with you, that's what these rappers do\n\nNew grey drop top Audi, 2013, yeah\nWhite coco, butterfly wings, 2k17\nIce (ice), came out the machine (ice)\nCame out the machine (ice baby)\nDraco, Uzi, Tommy gun, SK (Tommy gun), all machines, brrrt\nYeah, hey, pull up on the side of 'em, skrrt\nLet the clip ride on 'em\nAyy, fuck 12, open fire on 'em (fuck 12)\nOpen up fire on 'em (fuck 12)\nYeah, don't tuck in my chain (nah)\nI'm with the gang (gang,) hit you with range\nScattering showers, here come the rain\nIcy Hot sleeve, these niggas in pain, hey\nUh, uh, play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh\nPlay with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh\nPlay with these bitches like peek-a-boo, uh\nBroke ass bitch ass nigga\nI'm not finna play with you, that's what these rappers do\n\nLeft wrist white, it's the Patek (Philippe)\nBad white bitch with a fatty (unique)\nSmokin' on cookies from granny (trees)\nPocket rocket, go go gadget (go go)\nI make a play, Madden (John)\nI know it was some speculation 'bout who the one\nBut we invented the dabbin' (dab)\nFuck it, we just let 'em have it (have it)\nDraco for niggas with static (brrt, static)\nI can do magic and make me a rabbit\nWith usin' my karats (ice, woah)\nGelato package, I'm drinkin' on Actavis, expensive habits (Actavis, mud)\nYellow bitch, Pikachu (bitch)\nCameltoe peekin' at you (look at you)\nPeek-a-boo\nPeek-a-boo, peek-a-boo"}
{"text":"I know you want this for life\nTaking pictures with all my ice\nBut I can't have no wife\nI just want you for the night\nI know you want this for life\nTaking pictures with all my ice (All my ice)\nBut I can't have no wife\nI just want you for the night (Just for the night)\n\nI know you want this for life (No, you don't)\nFuck you so good you be calling out the Christ (Oh, my God)\nBottles of the Tech, got it laid on ice\nWe spent four seasons at the Four Seasons twice (Make it my home)\nYou be calling all your homegirls like, \"I'm his wife\"\nHell nah, you trippin', reevaluate your life\nI can't love no bitch, every single ho is trife (Hell no)\nI sip dirty Sprite just to get me through the night\nBut I need you there (Need you there)\nPromise that I need you there\nAin't no other bitch gon' fuck me like you do, I swear\nPut that on my gang, I swear\nI just can't put you on front street like you want, I know\nBut baby, you is not no ho\nAnd I put it on my gang, I'm not no average Joe (No average Joe)\nIt's Yachty from the block, you know (Yeah)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nI know you want this for life\nTaking pictures with all my ice\nBut I can't have no wife\nI just want you for the night\nI know you want this for life\nTaking pictures with all my ice\nBut I can't have no wife\nI just want you for the night\nDon't you tell no one\nNo, no, no, baby, don't you tell no one\nWe gon' keep this just between us, we gon' have some fun (Gon' have some fun)\nFuck until the morning come\nWhen the morning come, I'll make you cum\nBut then then I gotta run\n'Cause, baby, I got shit to do\nStack my bread up, fuck your head up\nThat's just what I'll do (That's what I'll do)\nChillin' on my avenue\nIf you ain't remember, I remember, girl\nThat's where I first met you\nYou had you a drink or two (You had a drink or two)\nYou came over half unsober callin' me your boo (Oh, no, no, no)\nThen you turned around and fucked the crew (No, no, no, no, no)\nI got no love for you\nI can't have no wife, one night\nYou want this for life\nBut I can't, I can't have no wife\nNo wife, no, no wife (No wife)\nJust one night, one night\nI can't, can't have no wife (I can't, can't have no wife)\nI know you want this for life\nBut I can't have no wife (No, no, no, no, no wife, no)\nI just want you for one night\n\nI just want you for one night\nI know you want this for life, but no\nNo, no, no\nI can't have no wife"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsMinnesota Lyrics\nBrrt, brrt, bang, bang\nAyy\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\n\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota, cold like Minnesota\nCold like Minnesota, cold like Minnesota\nNeed to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota, cold like Minnesota\nCold like Minnesota, it get cold like Minnesota\nNeed to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\n\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota, ridin' 'round on boulders\nMoney sittin' up, it sits way above your shoulders\nI was eatin' pork and rinds with a bitch from New York Times\nI don't eat no pork and rinds but that bitch was mighty fine\nI got gold all on my necklace, tatted up my arms\nNow my mama think I'm reckless, got guns under my mattress\nI was juggin since a youngin', free my older cousin Reesey\nHe from Hamilton not D.C, I rock N.Bs like I'm Gleeshy\nFlip phone banging off the walls, Gucci on my drawers\nWhy the fuck you in these streets if you're scared of them four walls?\nI was strokin' on your sister, she was callin' me her mister\nShe suck dick for a picture, it's Lil Yachty nice to meet you\nI was juggin' off them stacks, countin' up them racks\nAlmost had a lifetime sentence, but I beat it, shout out to Pat!\nPat, that's my lawyer, he got me off them chargers\n8 stacks for that boy, he took care of the boy\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nCold like Minnesota, cold like Minnesota\nCold like Minnesota, it get cold like Minnesota\nNeed to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota, cold like Minnesota\nCold like Minnesota, it get cold like Minnesota"}
{"text":"You fuckin' with that, F1LTH'? (Wake up, F1LTHY)\nTo Poland\n\nI took the Wock' to Poland\nI took the Wock' to Poland\nI took the Wock' to Poland\n\nUh (Phew, phew)\nI been fiendin' like I'm Kenan\nRide around with a Kel-Tec (Wock')\nIf you mean it, baby girl, do you mean it?\nI been leanin', baby girl, I been leanin' (Wock')\nPhew, phew, phew (Wock')\nPhone still ringin', battlin' all my demons\nI been fiendin', baby girl, I been fiendin' (Wock')\nHope you love me, baby, I hope you mean it (Wock')\n\nI took the Wock' to Poland\nI took the Wock' to Poland\nI took the Wock' to PolandSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like"}
{"text":"Grandfero, nigga\nYeah, yeah\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\n(Always said, know what I'm saying? Know what I'm saying? Y'all niggas, head ass niggas, you step out the streets, nigga, y'all niggas might get...) (Yeah)\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\n\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota (Yeah), cold like Minnesota (Yup!)\nCold like Minnesota, cold like Minnesota\nNeed to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat (Brrr, brrr)\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat (Woo, woo, yeah, yeah!)\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota (Yeah!), cold like Minnesota (Yeah, yeah!)\nCold like Minnesota, it get cold like Minnesota (Yeah! 'Sota)\nNeed to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat ('Sota)\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\n\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota (Yep), riding 'round on boulders (Skr, skr)\nMoney sitting up, it sit way above your shoulders\nI was eating pork and rinds with a bitch from New York Times\nI don't eat no pork and rinds, but that bitch was mighty fine\nI got gold all on my necklace (Skr, skr), tatted up my arms\nNow my mama think I'm reckless (What?), got guns under my mattress\nI was juggin' since a youngin', free my older cousin Reesey\nHe from Hamilton, not D.C, I rock NBs like I'm Gleeshy (Ayy)\nFlip phone banging off the walls (Rrr), Gucci on my drawers\nWhy the fuck you in these streets if you scared of them four walls?\nI was stroking on your sister, she was calling me her mister\nShe suck dick for a picture, it's Lil Yachty, nice to meet you (I'm Lil Yachty)\nI was jugging off them stacks, counting up them racks\nAlmost had a lifetime sentence (Do do do), but I beat it, shout out to Pat\nPat, that's my lawyer, he got me off them charges\n8 stacks for that boy, he took care of the boy, ayy\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota (Yeah), cold like Minnesota (Ayy)\nCold like Minnesota (Yeah), it get cold like Minnesota (Ayy)\nNeed to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat (Brrr, brrr)\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota, cold like Minnesota (C-c-cold)\nCold like Minnesota, it get cold like Minnesota (Uh!)\nNeed to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat (Migos!)\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat (Uh!)\n\nYou need to stay up out the streets if you can't take the heat (Uh!)\nWhen they said Lil Yachty hot, I'm like, \"That's him or me?\" (Lil Yachty, huh)\nWrist like Minnesota (Minnesota), trapping Coca-Cola (Coca!)\nCatching plays, Anquan Boldin (Woo!)\nJug out the hot box, know that it's stolen (Hot! Ayy)\nLarge (Large) sizes (Ayy!), all type of narcotics\nWoah, got a bankroll in that big body (Ih!)\nI love my Motorola (Brrr), I love my Motorola (Brrr)\nI love my Motorola (Brrr), I love my Motorola (Brrr)\nFuck 12, they can't pull me over (12!)\nSmoking on gas and that odor (Gas!)\nCook it up, then flip it over\nYou must've forgot it, we 'bout it like soldiers (Soldiers! Uh!)\nIt's cold, but I got my shirt off (Burr!)\nTrap niggas can't fall off (Trap)\nBig sack of molly, golf ball (Molly!)\nBig sack of molly, golf ball (Fore!)\nI trap in Minnesota like a viking (Swear)\nFlood out the Sky-Dweller, it got good lighting (Shine)\nWe made the dab and all of y'all biting (Dab)\nTwo thick white bitches, both of 'em dykes (Swear)\nI make a 50 before his acre (I make a)\nI was in the streets but I ain't have no cable (I was in the)\nMe and Lil Yachty touch down at the safe house (Swear)\nSkippa Da Flippa, I will bring the rice out (Yeah, yeah!)\n\nCold like Minnesota, racks on fall, I told you ('Sota)\nI iced out my Rollie, then did the same damn thing for my brodies (Yeah)\nAll a nigga trap spot beating like a pulse\nI could put the heat inside the kitchen like a baller (Ball)\nI could fill your bitch head up like a lawyer (Woo!)\nAin't know, never 'gon sign posts (Yeah!)\nBig machine, big machine (Big machine)\nI'm cooking bean on jelly beans (Woo, woo, woo)\nNo need to smell it, all is clean\nThat money talking, Charlie Sheen (Gang!)\nI'm riding Ubers with the toolie (Skrr!)\nI got more diamonds than your jeweler (Swah)\nI make her come back like I'm Yugi (Yeah!)\nIf you ain't know it, now you knew it, ay\nI aim at her head like a sniper rifle (Woo!)\nShe can't be my bitch if she dykin', dykin' (Woo!)\nI bought her a ring but no wifey, wifey (Woo!)\nShe slurp on that dick and I like it, like it (Woo!)\nNo candy, she Mike and Ike it (Candy)\nNo Nike, she know I do it (Do it)\nI eat that bitch like a hockey pocket (Yeah)\nNo Nike, she know I do it\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota ('Sota), cold like Minnesota (Yeah, ayy)\nCold like Minnesota ('Sota), it get cold like Minnesota (Brrr)\nNeed to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat (Brrr)\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat (Brrr)\n'Cause it get cold like Minnesota ('Sota), cold like Minnesota (C-c-cold)\nCold like Minnesota, it get cold like Minnesota (Yeah)\nNeed to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat (Yeah, yeah)\nYou need to stay up out them streets if you can't take the heat (Oh, yeah)"}
{"text":"Earl on the beat\n\nRunnin' up bands, got my guap up\nAll the bad hoes wanna top us\nToo many wild parties on the yacht\nMe and Boat got kicked out the yacht club\n\nAyy, ayy, air it out\nPull up at your spot, and I air it out\nGang on the gas and it's very loud\nStop sayin' my name before you wear it out\nI been sippin' lean, tryna slow me down\nI need me a bitch that'll hold me down\nGang comin' strong, yeah we rollin' out\nThrow a party like Rollin' Loud\nAyy, don't come unless she stay in focus\nSoldiers at 10-4, sent your bitch the info\nFeelin' real blessed with Juice, that's my kinfolk\nBless up, she tell me I'm a god, get on her knees for confession\nSent a vid to her nigga, had to teach a lesson\nMe and Boat only want bad hoes in our section\nJuice, why these pussy ass niggas always pressin'?\nI don't know, let 'em talk, I'ma go get my Smith & Wesson\nBlessed boys under 21, steady flexin'\nI'm gettin' too rich, can't do flights with connections\n.40 on my hip, I won't fight, bitch I'm reckless\nCodeine what I sip, that shit come in straight from Texas\nReach for my chain, you'll get beat just like Nexus\nLamborghini dreams, but you still drive a Lexus\nI'm a young king, I might fuck Alexis Texas\nBut I ain't on no Drake shit, I won't get her pregnant\nDamn, young Juice WRLD, boy, you reckless\nAnd I feel you, until I get her naked\nWhen I get up in it, I might have to stay in\nWell if she goin' like that, let's run a train then\nFuck, I think I nutted in her, I might need a playpen\nAnd a stroller\nHow I get this deep? We rode her like a Rover\nNo games, but I XBOX control her\nShe do the gang like a nerd doin' homework\n.40 in my pants, that bitch thought it was a boner\nIf I go broke, I'ma juug off Motorolas\nBut now I'm up in France, Lil Boat, that's my mans\nWe get the green and then we fly around like Peter Pan\nThat's cool, but I just thought 'bout somethin', wait\n(What?)\nThis baby got your face\nSo fuck that lil' baby, boy's back to the place\nBack to the trap, back to the gang\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nRunnin' up bands, got my guap up (Runnin' the guap up)\nAll the bad hoes wanna top us (They wanna top us)\nToo many wild parties on the yacht (Ohh-oh)\nMe and Boat got kicked out the yacht club (Out the yacht club)\n\nOh-oh-oh\nListen here, be alright\nShit hard"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsNBAYOUNGBOAT Lyrics\nWop, skrrt\n(Skrrt, skrrt)\nWop, wop\n(Skrrt-skrrt, skrrt-skrrt) I don't know what you take me for ho (Lil Boat, wop, wop)\nI ain't goin' for it (Wop)\n\nYoung nigga, rich nigga, I'm a bad bitch getter\nFuck nigga, ho nigga, I don't fuck with broke niggas\nAlways held my own since I jumped up off the porch, nigga\nYou ain't know, now you know, nigga, Hi-Tech pour a four, nigga\n\nBitch run me my sack before I come in\n80,000 dollars plus a jet on a backend\n20 twin twins finna get plucked like a chicken\nBrother locked up, he spent much time in the kitchen\nWe ain't really with none of that pretendin' and shit (\u2014tendin' and shit)\nI got six Catholic hoes in here sinnin' and shit (Sinnin' and shit)\nPour that shit up, bust it down (Woo)\nBought a new crib, it got several amenities (Gang)\nYou gon' get shot like the Kennedys (Yeah)\nFuckin' with Lil Boat and YB (Doot, pew)\n\nCarbine it sound like a dump truck (Trra)\nSoon as I up, he gon' back up (Boom, boom)\nShe wanna fuck, I'ma smash her (Smash)\nHe want a verse, I'ma tax him (I'ma tax him)\nSay you want smoke, it ain't 'bout nothing\nI know that nigga ain't 'bout nothing (He ain't 'bout it)\nBring out the boat when the flood coming\nStrapped with a TEC when you pull up on me\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nI'm with the .38 baby, my neck see more water than the Navy (Gang)\nI was finna fuck your bitch, my nigga then I got lazy (Ugh)\nI saw your new watch, that shit cool but my shit crazy\nCanary yellow diamonds in my mouth like I bit a daisy (Yeah)\nI'm with Lil Baby yeah, keep a .380, yeah (Pew-pew)\nI'm with big Slime, yeah you know we goin' brazy, yeah (Slatt)\n\n17 with four babies, yeah\nLotta money, know they hate me, yeah\nOne on four, they try to play me, yeah\nShoot his ass right up in here (Pew-pew, pew-pew)\nDiamonds, they shine like a headlight (Shine)\nI keep that lil' bitch if her head right\nI'ma lay up and fuck on her every night (Every night)\nWhen I'm leavin' I'm headin' straight to the flight (No)\nGot a tiger but no I'm not Mike Tyson (Mike Tyson)\nScuff in the club like Fight Night (Fight Night)\nI make that lil' ho act right (Act right)\nI tell that bitch fuck up my sack right (Bitch)\n\nPut that lil' bitch on a Spirit flight (Gang)\nReturn her next to me one night (Nyoom)\nWe running and ducking from squad lights (Woo)\nI got 32 shots in the gun fight\nThese niggas sweet like a honey bun (Sweet)\nDon't worry 'bout where my money from\nAt the crib, on the couch, we got huntin' guns (Doot)\nDissect his hand from his other arm (Doot, doot, doot)\nYoung nigga, rich nigga, I'm a big bag getter (Woo)\nBitch nigga, snitch nigga, never met a real nigga (Bitch)\nNever had six figures, my bitch do tricks nigga\nI go by Lil Boat and I'm coolin' with some real hittas (Gang)\nWhip on the wrist, that's a brick on the fist, nigga\nNo light needed for this chain, it's gon' glist nigga (Yeah)\nVS, one stone, that shit not far from flawless\nFuck a pretty bitch, nigga, my money gorgeous, bitch\nLil Boat"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u043966 Lyrics\nDY Krazy\n\nRacks up, racks up, pullin' up, Bentley truck\nSemi, semi, keep it tucked, bad bitch, bubble butt\n14, 14, high school, servin' beans\nDropped out, now I'm rich, flexin' 'til I'm sixty-six\n\nAyy, ayy\nFlexin' forty bands from the pop out, ayy\nBoolin' on the block I got my Glock out, ayy\nI just pulled up in a Bentley\nAll the hatred go right to your fuckin' kidney\nFlexin' bands, lil' nigga won't get a penny, yeah\nI'ma keep on runnin' it up, ayy\nI'ma keep on runnin' it up, fuckin' it up\nThis choppa bustin' you up, ayy\nThere you go, testin' your luck, dumb as fuck, yeah (Ayy, ooh)\nFlexin' baby, pull up in a drop top, ayy\nDiamonds dancin' on me, baby hopscotch\nBling blaow, shinin' fresh just like some Pop Rocks, ayy\nFireworks, when I pull up to your block, pop\n\nRacks up, racks up, pullin' up, Bentley truck\nSemi, semi, keep it tucked, bad bitch, bubble butt\n14, 14, high school, servin' beans\nDropped out, now I'm rich, flexin' 'til I'm sixty-six\nRacks up, racks up, pullin' up, Bentley truck\nSemi, semi, keep it tucked, bad bitch, bubble butt\n14, 14, high school, servin' beans\nDropped out, now I'm rich, flexin' 'til I'm sixty-six\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nAyy, when my brother get out, told him ain't no block now\nSame bitches curbin' all up on my cock now\nTwenty bitches and they all comin' with me (Skrrt, skrrt)\nSide by side, me and Trippie in the Bentley (Skrrt, skrrt)\nAyy, and I bought it ain't no rentin'\nBaby girl I'm tryna fuck, why is you ventin'? (Huh, huh)\nIn 2016, I grind harder than your skate team (Huh, huh)\n2018, I need at least like eight rings (Huh, huh)\n\nRacks up, racks up (Gang, gang), pullin' up, Bentley truck (Yeah)\nSemi, semi, keep it tucked (Yeah), bad bitch, bubble butt (Woah)\n14, 14 ('Teen), high school, servin' beans (Beans)\nDropped out, now I'm rich (Yeah), flexin' 'til I'm sixty-six (Yeah)\nRacks up, racks up (Yeah), pullin' up, Bentley truck (Skrrt)\nSemi, semi, keep it tucked (Yeah), bad bitch, bubble butt (Aight)\n14, 14 (Yeah), high school, servin' beans (Beans)\nDropped out, now I'm rich (Yeah), flexin' 'til I'm sixty-six"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsWanna Be Us Lyrics\nBitch, you know it's Lil Boat\nBitch, it's Lil Boat and Lil Perry (Perry)\nI keep them hoes like a ferry\nMy hair be red like a cherry\nAll of them niggas, they know\nAll of them niggas, they know me\nAll of them niggas, they know us (Woah, woah, woah)\nThem niggas, they wanna be us, damn\nBitch, you know it's Lil Boat\nBitch, it's Lil Boat and Lil Perry\nI keep them hoes like a ferry\nMy hair be red like a cherry\nAll of them niggas, they know\nAll of them niggas, they know me\nAll of them niggas, they know us\nThem niggas, they wanna be us\nWoah, damn\n\nShout out to my nigga Colby (Woah)\nGold on my neck like a trophy (Woah)\nLil Boat powered up like a Mophie (Woah)\nLil Boat, that nigga stay low-key (Oh, woah)\nAll of these bitches, they know me (Damn)\nAll of these bitches, they on me (Oh, damn)\nThat bitch, she smile like emoji (Emoji)\nThat bitch, she smile like emoji (Woah, damn)\nWoah, damn, I be posted up with Perry (With Perry)\nI be counting up the guap\nKeep a condom in my sock\n'Cause these bitches on my cock\nI need a mouth full of rocks (Yeah)\nAnd I need me a Rollie\nNeed a mansion for my brodies (Woah)\nNeed my diamonds to be dancin' (Woah, damn)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nBitch, you know it's Lil Boat\nBitch, it's Lil Boat and Lil Perry (Perry)\nI keep them hoes like a ferry\nMy hair be red like a cherry\nAll of them niggas, they know\nAll of them niggas, they know me\nAll of them niggas, they know us (Woah, woah, woah)\nThem niggas, they wanna be us, damn\nBitch, you know it's Lil Boat\nBitch, it's Lil Boat and Lil Perry\nI keep them hoes like a ferry\nMy hair be red like a cherry\nAll of them niggas, they know\nAll of them niggas, they know me\nAll of them niggas, they know us\nThem niggas, they wanna be us\n\nAll of these niggas, they know (They know)\nI need my bitch like a Reese's (Reese's)\nGot your bitch wet like the Ganges\nWalking on water like Jesus (Like Jesus)\nBitches, they changing like seasons (Oh!)\nI need like five for my leases (Woah)\nI got ice on my wrist (Woah)\nWhipping the work like a Prius\nNone of these niggas can see us (Nah)\nI'm up in the Himalayas\nBitches they trying to lay us\nI hit that bitch, then I lay up (Woo!)\nPut it in like a finger roll\nHit that bitch and then I troll\nCan't have one bitch, I need like four\nThey scream my name at the shows\nBitch, you know it's Lil Boat\nBitch, it's Lil Boat and Lil Perry (Perry)\nI keep them hoes like a ferry\nMy hair be red like a cherry\nAll of them niggas, they know\nAll of them niggas, they know me\nAll of them niggas, they know us (Woah, woah, woah)\nThem niggas, they wanna be us, damn\nBitch, you know it's Lil Boat\nBitch, it's Lil Boat and Lil Perry\nI keep them hoes like a ferry\nMy hair be red like a cherry\nAll of them niggas, they know\nAll of them niggas, they know me\nAll of them niggas, they know us\nThem niggas, they wanna be us"}
{"text":"80 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Get Dripped Lyrics\nEarl on the beat\nLousy\nYeah\n\nRun in, lil' bitch, you get hit, yeah (Boom, boom)\nCame in that bitch with that stick, yeah\nCame in that bitch with lil' kick, uh\nI got that money like blow (What?)\nI'm in this bitch with Lil Meech (Blatt)\nI do this shit in my sleep, yeah\nShawty suck me, she so geeked, yeah\nShawty fuck me, she so geeked, yeah\nI'm in this bitch and I'm fleek, uh\nI put VVS on my links, yeah\nShawty can't wait 'til we link (Uh)\nFuck with Lil K, you get fssh-d (Yeah)\nGet laid on your ass, you get fssh-d (Uh)\nI play with that 30, lil' bitch, yeah\nI need a mask for this heat, yeah\nI need a gas for my bitch, yeah\nYou know that chopper don't miss, ayy\nYou know that chopper don't miss, yeah\nI get this mothafucka lit, yeah\nDouble C all on my shit, yeah\nDolce Gabbana my bitch, yeah\nChristian Dior, I pop shit, yeah\nShawty gon' fuck on my drip, yeah\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nShawty in love with my drip, woah\nI get that drip, you get dripped, yeah\nTwo-twenty all on that rear, ayy\nI get the drip, you get dripped (Ayy)\nI fucked that bitch, I'm a pimp (Ayy)\nI'm with Lil Boat, we not simp, yeah\nI fucked that bitch, she get bent, yeah (Ayy)\nWe in this bih with no tint (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy okay, yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nUh, thugger lil' bitch speak Ebonics (Ayy)\nShootin' that Glock, supersonics (Baow, baow)\nI drop a dub at Onyx (Ayy)\nToot, toot that thing up (Toot)\nBeat from the back, she runnin' (Beep, beep)\nPink Prada bag, I'm thumbin' (Beep, yeah)\nF&N, 30 round gun you (Baow)\nFuck what they sayin', they pussy (Fuck 'em)\nMy shirt vintage Stussy (Yeah, yeah)\nI put them niggas on gang (Ayy)\nThey started snitchin', oops\nBack at 15 I was swipin', oops (Uh, ayy)\nBeat up that pussy, I'm Tyson, oops\nNiggas is reckless, triflin' (Yeah)\nThree cell phones, don't call me (Grr)\nRich white money, Mike Lowry (Mike Lowry)\nKeep one joystick like Atari (Like Atari)\nV on my back like Bari (VLONE)\nYeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah)\nMe and Cash Carti go way back (Ayy, Carti)\nNigga don't like me, then say that (Okay)\nTwenty years old in a Maybach (Skrrt)\nHoo, flexin' (Fuck it up, damn)\nYoung nigga flexing, no eight pack\nShawty in love with my drip, woah\nI get that drip, you get dripped, yeah\nTwo-twenty all on that rear, ayy\nI get the drip, you get dripped\nI fucked that bitch, I'm a pimp\nI'm with Lil Boat, we not simp, yeah\nI fucked that bitch, she get bent, yeah\nWe in this bih with no tint\n\nDamn (Ayy)\nDamn (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nBow, bow (What?)"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsMICKEY Lyrics\n30, you a fool for this one\n\nTrappin' out the backstreet\nRunnin' through the packs like a track meet (Zoom)\nPull up with two pistols on me, Max P\nBack to back the Bentley truck, we on repeat\nDrippin' on these bitches, put a stain on 'em\nLamborghini 'Ventador, no brain on it\nIced-out Patek with the rain on it\nAutomatic with the scope, range on it (Woo)\n\nSpent one-sixty, that's on two watches (Two watches)\nGoddamn, think I need a new hobby (New hobby)\nBought a chain, could've bought a Bugatti (Bugatti)\nNiggas dick ridin' with a Ducati (Ducati)\nCheck it out, check it out, check out (Woo)\nRidin' 'round town with the sticks out (Woo)\nIt's fashion week, so I bought the Rick's out (Woo)\nThese niggas rats, no Mickey Mouse (Woo)\n\n(Yeah)\nThese niggas hatin' 'cause I'm too rich (Too rich)\nBig carats, same size Cheez-Its (Cheez-Its)\nEighty-eight thou' for a new wrist (Whoo)\nPeter Piper, pull up with a new pistol (Pew, pew)\nThose not diamonds, those crystals\nRunnin' to the money like I'm Frank Gore (Yuh)\nThis ring cost more than a Honda 'Cord (Skrt)\nFuck with the set then it's over with (It's over with)\nWalk in the spot, get it overlit (Overlit)\nI want some pussy, she open it (Open it)\nFuck her one time then I'm over it (Over it)\nThese niggas weird and they talk too much (Yuh)\nAll these new niggas, they socialists (Yuh)\nHoldin' on tight to my braggin' rights  (Fah)\nI write my name on the mogul list (Huh)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nSpent one-sixty, that's on two watches (Two watches)\nGoddamn, think I need a new hobby (New hobby)\nBought a chain, could've bought a Bugatti (Bugatti)\nNiggas dick ridin' with a Ducati (Ducati)\nCheck it out, check it out, check out (Woo)\nRidin' 'round town with the sticks out (Woo)\nIt's fashion week, so I bought the Rick's out (Woo)\nThese niggas rats, no Mickey Mouse (Woo)\n\nMillion-dollar lick, but I missed out (Missed out)\nHad to sleep on the drank, I was pissed off (Pissed off)\nGot a hundred on your hand, hold your wrist out (Wrist out)\nHellcat racecar, no pitstop (No pitstop)\nHad a million-dollar cash at my bitch house (Bitch house)\nWearin' twenty thousand dollar outfits now (Outfits)\nCoupe cost one-sixty and I cashed out (Cash)\nLil' Steve comin' home, 'bout to max' out\nAnything I buy, I'm spendin' all twenty\nHundreds and fifties goin' to the grave wit me (Yeah)\nI sleep with a chopper and bathe with a glizzy\nA nigga try Yachty, we shootin' up the city (Frrah)\nAsk them other niggas how we got busy (How we got busy)\nIt ain't no sleep 'til we hittin' the victim (Hittin' our victim)\nNigga play gangster, but we know they bitches (We know they bitches)\nI'm thinkin' they mad 'cause we fuckin' they bitches\nSpent one-sixty, that's on two watches (Two watches)\nGoddamn, think I need a new hobby (New hobby)\nBought a chain, could've bought a Bugatti (Bugatti)\nNiggas dick ridin' with a Ducati (Ducati)\nCheck it out, check it out, check out (Woo)\nRidin' 'round town with the sticks out (Woo)\nIt's fashion week, so I bought the Rick's out (Woo)\nThese niggas rats, no Mickey Mouse (Woo)"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsIntro Lyrics\nHey, Mr. Grumpy Gills\nWhen life gets you down, you know what you gotta do?\nI don't know what you gotta do when life gets you down\nJust keep swimming, just keep swimming\nJust keep swimming, swimming, swimming\nDory, no singing\nWhat do we do? We swim\nHo ho ho ho ho ho ho, I love to swim\nDory, Dory\nWhen you want to swim\nOh, okay. Where? Oh, you want me to sit right here? Where, look right there? Okay, okay, alright. I got it. Well... well, hello folks, Darnell Boat here. Today, I'ma tell you a little story about my two nephews, Lil Yachty and Lil Boat. Well, I don't know where to start. Look, here's Lil Boat now\nLil Boat!\nOkay\nI've got these strange voices inside my head\nKeep a stack and .380 beside my bed\nNot to be cool, but in case they run up on me\nIf y'all bet on my fam, clutch with double on me\nWent to school on a dirt road with black hoes and potholes\nThis shit was just then, this was four months\nLate nights with gang on them store hunts\nLoitering Walmart for pure fun\nLook at me now, all of my classmates like, \"Wow\"\nMy teachers like, \"Damn\"\nI remember I didn't have not a fan\nNow I step out and Lil Boat is the man\nWoah, this shit is surreal\nPockets stuffed in with blue bills\nSo much people trying to ask how it feels\nBut, nigga, I don't know\nEveryday I ball like finger roll (woo!)\nHow'd you do it? Only God knows (oh!)\nI want to know who's real until the time folds\nPeople looking at Lil Boat with their hands out cause I'm wearing nicer clothes\nI'ma stay down with the same niggas I came up with, that's the master plan\n26 for a nigga hand, diamonds so cold you might need a fan (woo!)\nI don't know who I am sometimes\nI might rap a verse, I might sing a song\nCame up overnight from one song\nOne night get her out the thong\nOld heads hating on Boat\n'Cause I'm young as fuck and I'm rich as hell\nPants low like I'm fresh in jail\nBut I've been out, motherfuck 12 (woo!)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nSee, he's a little--he's a little bit more aggressive. Well, you know, as this story unfolds, and you know what I'm saying, as the story gets told, uh, I'll tell you a little bit more about Yachty. He's a little bit nicer. Let's call him\nHello? Hello?\nOh, oh, oh, ohhh\nOh, oh, hello\nHello, hello\nOh, hello\nHello Boat, it's so nice to meet you\nI'm so glad you came\nHello, hello\nWhat's poppin'? It's Lil Yachty, I'm in the party\nI need three thotties to come suck on my posse\nWhat's poppin'? Woah\nHello, hello, hello, hello\nHello, hello\nHello, hello, hello, hello\nHello, hello, hello\nOh, hello\nWelcome to my life\nHello, hello, hello"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsWho Want the Smoke? Lyrics\nI fuck with this shit, man\nHa\nTay Keith, fuck these niggas up\nWord\n\nHotboxin' in the whip (In the whip)\nI don't even smoke (Smoke though)\nBut we drop tops and let it rip (Skrrt, skrrt)\nPull up and get smoked (Huh?)\nWith them big rocks up in her ear (Word)\nChandelier (Chandelier), can you hear? (Huh?)\nWho that there?\n\nWho want the smoke? (The smoke)\nWho want the smoke? (Word)\nWho want the\u2014, who want the\u2014 (Word)\nWho want the smoke? (Word, word)\nWho want the smoke? (Who? Yeah)\nWho want the smoke? (Who? Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWho want the\u2014, who want the\u2014 (Bardi)\nWho want the smoke? (Ayy)\n\nI-I-I hear shots comin' on the low from hoes I'm higher than\nThis attention is so flatterin' 'cause they're admirin'\nDon't know what's on their mind, but it should be retirement\nGet the AARP or this AR get to firin' (Blat)\nThey don't want smoke with me (No), the diamonds is chokin' me\nTheir pussy need potpourri, these bitches is 0-3\nAnd there ain't a lower league, all in my ovaries\nThe fur on my shoulder mink, tell me what Hov would think\nI get the money, I am the king of New York\nAnd I rock a sew-in weave (Woo, woo, woo, woo)\nI run it, I run it, I relay the win\nThey talkin', they talkin', I'm takin' it in\nI did not come here to make me new friends\nWho buried the bridge and aren't makin' amends (Ah)\nThey don't want none, I'll say it again (Yee)\nThey don't want none, I pray for their sins (Hah)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nHotboxin' in the whip (In the whip)\nI don't even smoke (Smoke though)\nBut we drop tops and let it rip (Skrrt, skrrt)\nPull up and get smoked (Huh?)\nWith them big rocks up in her ear (Word)\nChandelier (Chandelier), can you hear? (Huh?)\nWho that there?\n\nWho want the smoke? (The smoke, who?)\nWho want the smoke? (Bardi word)\nWho want the\u2014, who want the\u2014\nWho want the smoke? (Word, word, word, b-b-b-blat)\nWho want the smoke? (Yeah, who?)\nWho want the smoke? (Bardi, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWho want the\u2014, who want the\u2014, who want the smoke? (Ayy)\n\nIs you fuckin'? (Yeah)\nBaby girl, I need to know (Who?)\nWho finna run get the rubbers from the store? (Who there?)\nBitch so damn wet, drippin' on my marble floor (Drip, drip, drip)\nNever not strapped, in my city, on my soul\nPull up in a two-seater (Yeah), in a wife-beater\nWith my bro, he be bangin' like a car speaker\nAll black, late night like the Grim Reaper\nWrist in the air, turned the club to a new freezer (Ice)\nWho want the smoke? (The smoke)\nWho want the smoke? (Word)\nWho want the\u2014, who want the\u2014 (Brr, word)\nWho want the smoke? (Brr-brr, word, word)\nWho want the smoke? (Who? Yeah)\nWho want the smoke? (Woo, woo, woo, woo, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nWho want the\u2014, who want the\u2014, who want the smoke? (Offset)\n\nGlock 40 in my coat (Glock)\nMy bitch keep fire in the Chanel tote (Fire, fire)\nSuffocate him, hang him by the rope\nHot potato, bullet, let it go (Brrt, brrt, brrt)\nThe .44 put him in a yolk (.44)\nPull up in the stolo, look like he seen a ghost\nAnd I got the kilo comin' on the boat (Kilo)\nWe gon' move it fast, v\u00e1monos, v\u00e1monos (V\u00e1monos)\nNiggas talkin' foul on the d-low (Foul)\nTechnical, I'm standin' at the line, shoot a free throw\nMedical, I sip a couple lines of fineto\nImpeccable, the Richard Mille line, man, it's see-through (Impeccable)\nWho want the smoke? Wet him up, humble up\nSeen the Ghost and they know, got a scope and I hope\nThat they pull up to the spot with the ho\nGet smoked with the pole in the middle of the store (Smoke)\nThe SIG pulled out, nigga had a stroke\nCoolant at them niggas, shawty, I don't know (Who?)\nChoppa made that bitch (Bah), ain't nowhere to go\nThrow him off the boat (Die), in the river, float (Float)\n30 round clip in this clip clear (Clear)\nI'm in the Wraith so I'm lookin' at the rear mirror (Mirror)\nFree jit, we ain't goin' for that shit, period (Free jit)\nRed dots on their pussy, niggas on their period (Hey, hey)"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsAll In Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, Lil Boat\nAll my brothers with me!\nYeah\nFrom the start, they been with me from the start\nI love y'all!\nGang, gang, gang, gang\n\nBankroll after bankroll I spend\nBankroll after bankroll I spend\nBankroll after bankroll I spend\nBankroll after bankroll I spend\nSeven years later and I got the same friends\nBankroll after bankroll I spend\nSeven years later and I got the same friends\nAll in, yeah I'm all in, I'm all in\nAll in, yeah I'm all in, I'm all in\n\nAll in with a pair of twins in a Benz\nJust bought a new necklace and it came with heavy winds\nShe suck me like a push-pop, she love cock\nMy brothers they been with me from the very start\nRecorded in the closet with sock mics\nIf one fight we all fight, it's fight night\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nBankroll after bankroll I spend\nSeven years later and I got the same friends\nAll in, yeah I'm all in, I'm all in\nAll in, yeah I'm all in, I'm all in\n\nBlack and white like a zebra\nI don't sell furniture but nigga IKEA\nI have an idea, headshot, ID ya\nMedia wanna see me in jail like Madea\nIf my career go south I'm going to South Korea\nMacaroni sells, I been macking, making macarena\nI'm cleaner than the cleanest\nIt's Byou, nice to meet you\nThis ain't a cookout but my meat on her grill\n\nI started off like I'm a goonie\nWhen I got in they gave me a toolie\nI'm high off these snacks like I'm Scooby\nI can't be no average joe\nNever fucked an average ho\nWe lit and you know it's a problem\nGrill like I'm eating on pollen\nKeep a bitch on my thigh like a pocket\nIf I fuck her she sucking the gang\nMe and my brothers done did everything\nBackwood, it's stuffed, look like Oreo\nIf you know me I know that you owe me\nKay the Yacht keep a K and a forty\nBalmains on me like I'm lonely\nFired a banker for twenty\nThumb in her butt while she sippin' the Henny\nI know that my gang won't forget me\nBankroll after bankroll I spend\nSeven years later and I got the same friends\nAll in, yeah I'm all in, I'm all in\nAll in, yeah I'm all in, I'm all in\n\nYou a stain, you a lame\nSwerving hoes like I got a cane\nOld friends call me, say they can't look at Perry the same\nPerry growin' up and I got the same gang\nYoung nigga with expensive tastes\nMatter fact, ask your girl 'fore you go and kiss her face\nDamn, who is she, let me check my database\nYeah, Perry here, the other human race\n\nI'm all in, I'm all in, I'm all in\nBitch I'm ballin', I'm ballin', I'm ballin'\nThese bitches callin', they stalkin', they stallin'\n25 just for a fucking walk in\n\nAll in, 40 for the walk in\nNow I'm flossin', drop top Slauson\nGot a goth bitch, she put me in a coffin\nGot a dog bitch, now she leaving paw-prints\nStill ridin' sports when I'm sittin' in it's great\nTell my bitch make a play, now I'm frosted like a cake\nChef knife with the steak, now I'm flexing heavyweight\nIn the six like a date, all my partners livin' great\nBankroll after bankroll I'm stacking\nJBan$ keep three phones, I'm trapping\nWorking with the work, I double up, it's magic\nChopper make a nigga backflip, gymnastics\nBad bitch take off with the pack if you lackin'\nGot 100 bloods posted in the back with rachets\nPull off in the Aston, ball like Collin Sexton\n26's for my wrist, diamonds dancing like they Prince\n\nBankroll after bankroll I love to spend, yeah\nWhen I get it back I love to spend it all again, yeah\nBoomin' out the gym, yeah, way above the rim, yeah\nTen up on my neck and I spent fifteen for my wrist, yeah\nWoah up on my wrist, yeah, wetter than a fish, yeah\nWoah, you just want to come because I'm next, yeah\nWoah, you just like that glow that's from my neck, yeah\nWoah, I'm tired of talking, can you cut my check, yeah\nWoah\n\nBankroll after bankroll I spend (I spend)\nOnly love my gang, I don't got no new friends (no new niggas)\nHit your bitch from the back and I watch her bend (dumb bitch)\nNAZ for life, nigga, that's 'til the end\nI only want to fuck, I can't be your boyfriend (stupid bitch)\nI speak rich nigga shit, broke niggas can't comprehend\nAyy, it's Cartiers all over my lens\nAll hundreds in my bankroll, I don't do no tens\n\nNever Amount To Zero in this bitch, you understand that?\n2016 Dream Team, matching Bimmer boys, let's get it\nGot love for all my niggas\nWe all in, we all fam\n\nAll in\nAll my brothers all in\nSame gang, I got the same friends\nI promise that I'm all in\nI'm all in, I'm all in\nAll in\nFuck it I might cop the Benz\nOh, I'm all in\nAll in, ah, oh\nSailing Team\nLil Boat, Lil Boat\nSummer Songs 2\nIt's a wrap"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsHella Os Lyrics\nMan\nNiggas still get it from the Gusto (Gusto)\nYoung hot head, man, cutthroat (Bow)\nAll these nat-nats on dumb go (Dumb go)\nKick back and serve up them Os (Them Os)\nUh\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\n(From the 404 to the 212, you know what I'm saying?)\nUh, skrrt, uh, skrrt\n(And it's free Reese every fuckin' day, you know what I'm saying?)\nUh, uh\n(Shout out to my nigga )\nSkrrt, skrrt\n(Plug)\n\nPull up on your block and we squirtin' 9s\nNiggas wanna duke it, this the right time\nCounting up, counting up hella bands\nUsing my guap as a face fan (Guap)\nK$upreme, that's my right hand\nNiggas mobbing deep like a Taliban\nRight now I'm a Harlem boy but Lil Yachty from Atlantastan (On God)\nStack the cheddar cheese on my nightstand\nIf my money low then watch your life, man\nNiggas still get it from the Gusto\nYoung hot head, man, cutthroat\nAll these nat-nats on dumb go\nKick back and serve out them Os\nNiggas strapped up like Girbauds (Uh)\nI just hopped out on them 4s (Skrrt, skrrt)\n(Plug)\nBloody bandana my bros\nBut cuzzy bandana my woes\nBought bank and I bang on fo's\nAll these fuck niggas is hoes\nHe better not knock on my door\nI bust a cap in his throat\nI put a dick in his ho\nI might just flip out them Os\nI just dropped weed on my toes\nBrought my niggas 'round your ho (For real)\nLet 'em run train on ya wife\nWe pass that pussy all night (On God)\nThen we stack it tall as kites\nNigga try me, that's his life\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nHella Os, I've been counting hella Os\n(Plug)\nMoney stacking tall like Legos\nI've been counting hella Os, hella Os\nHella Os, I've been counting hella Os\nMoney stacking tall like Legos\nTold my plug I need a whole fix (Yeah)\nServing up Os (Yeah)\nI could flip a brick (Woo, woo)\nHella Os, hella Os (Woo, woo)\nI've been moving hella Os\nYoung RD counting hella Os (Woo, woo)\n\nBig full Chevy, boy, check out the candy paint (Okay)\nCanary yellow diamonds in my pinky ring (Okay)\n(Plug)\n20 band juugs, I could ball\nI could ball, I could buy like 30 chains\nAll these bitches love me like I'm Jesus (Uh-huh)\nOld money same age as Regis (For real)\nBut that shit long like R. Kelly (R. Kelly)\nFuck around and put shots in your belly\nTold that ho to meet me at the telly (Uh)\nI can never ever fold (Hell nah)\nYoung RD be counting big Os (Yeah, yeah)\nI been counting bankrolls (Hell yeah)\nMoney make her touch her toes (On God)\nMoney got me the hoes (It did)\nMoney got a nigga right (Woo)\nI be sipping dirty Sprite (Uh-huh)\nHella Os, I've been counting hella Os\n(Plug)\nMoney stacking tall like Legos\nI've been counting hella Os, hella Os\nHella Os, I've been counting hella Os\nMoney stacking tall like Legos\nTold my plug I need a whole fix (Yeah)\nServing up Os (Yeah)\nI could flip a brick (Yeah)\nHella Os, hella Os (Woo, woo)\nI've been moving hella Os\nYoung RD counting hella Os (Woo, woo)\n\n(Plug)"}
{"text":"Sex symbol, the Black Seminole\nA sex symbol, the Black Seminole\nAfrican Rambo with more ammo\nCan't be escaped, I'm on every channel\n\nWhat's wrong? What's wrong, Mr. Man?\nYour eyes are low\nAnd you're walking with both hands on your head\nHis response, he's on a clean, clean high\nBoth feet up on the ground\nBut his head's way, way, way in the sky\n\nThe Black Seminole, a head general\nDistant connections, a large interval\nA black man with mouths to feed\nEmbracing equality throughout greed\n\nNo time to joke around, the kid is now a man\nAnd the silence is filled with remarkable sounds\nThis part I've seen in my dreams\nLove is not a lie, it just feels like a Tarantino movie scene\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\n\nNow\nOoh, ooh-ooh, ooh\nMm-mm-mmm, ooh\nAh-ha, aaah, yeah-hey, yeah"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\ud55c\uad6d\uc5b4\u200b\u200b\u200bdrive ME crazy! Lyrics\nImagine life, imagine life without me, it's a waste of time\nYou want the kind of love that can make a child\nDon't want just anybody\n(Not just anybody, not just anybody) Ooh\nGood love fill my body up like a glass when you pour it all out\nIf you know me, you know I mind, someone like me is hard to find\nNo mistakin\u2019 if I am there, well aware you are always mine\nAnd still you seem so surprised, always gon' be mine\n\nI wanna be where you are\nI just can't walk away, you drive me crazy, ah\nI lose it, lose it\nAnd I wanna be where you are\nI just can't walk away, you drive me crazy, ah\nI lose it, los\u0435 it\n\nImagine me circlin' through life without a pi\u0435ce of you\nSeven out of seven days I'm needin' you\nYou bring life to the party\n(Ooh, ah-ha, ooh, ah-ha-ha)\nGood love feels like butterflies suffocatin' your insides, oh\nIt's a late night, you know I try, I cannot picture when you lie\nI'm mistaken thinkin' you were taken knowin' that you were always mine\nAnd still I feel so surprised, you're always gon' be mine\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nRarely ever missin', talk is cheap and time is tickin'\nRarely ever trickin', catch me slippin', that pussy was leakin'\nI'm on missions, payin' millions, I'm Ted DiBiase, uh, God\nOut late night, I'm sinnin', still a Christian, don't tell my deacon\nI mean pastor, or I'll go down there, talkin' faster\nRide around, six-seven bitches with no tint, you can see I'm pimpin'\nBig four-five on my hip, like I'm limpin', never simpin'\nOne of my cousins crippin', always grippin', shit get dangerous\nAlways keep it player, we can swap out hoes, I'm never trippin'\nI love my mother, my sister, my daughter\nAll these hoes get slaughtered, can't deny, pray to the holy father"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsUp Next 2 Lyrics\nUh, ayy, uh\nLil Boat (Chubba), Chubba, Lil Boat, Chubba\nDigitalNas in this bitch\nYou know what I'm saying? Niggas see a young nigga, know what I'm saying? Nigga gon' act like they don't see a young nigga\nThese niggas see a young nigga\nThese bitches see a young nigga, you know what I'm saying?\nNigga shine, nigga flash, you feel me?\nMy nigga Ian up in this bitch, you feel me?\nWhat's popping? Niggas know what's going on, nigga\nNigga see how I'm coming, you don't want a problem\nUh, ayy, uh\n\nBoat boy just copped him some diamonds\nShe gon' suck my dick 'cause she like how I'm rhyming, it's all about timing\nGot 22 bitches on standby, they fuck when I say so\nCan't talk till my case closed\nI'm hot like a pepper\nDon't ash in my whip, bitch, it's basketball leather\nWhich nigga you rather? It better be me\nMaison Margiela just for my black tee\nCan't fuck with these niggas and all they rap beef\nGot a Tec for a hundred, I'm feeling like money\nMy mouth looking sunny\nThese niggas look funny, so I keep the chop\nI'm new and these niggas hopin' that I flop\nI'mm flop in that pussy, it better be gushy, it better be hairless\nMe and Kpreme beat your ass with our bare fists\nWhen I get on, I'ma fuck me a Heiress\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\n24 karat that'll fuck up my teeth\nPussy so wet that it fuck up the sheets\nCatch me posted right there on the street\nPocket rocket right under the seat\nWish a pussy nigga would try me\nIn the kitchen whipping up the heat\nCatch Purpp, get his ass beat\nSmoking purp and then I ash it\n50 band jugg, then I cash it\nFucking your hoe, then I pass it\nPurple and lean, that my passion\nMake it disappear like it's magic\nDon't come to the 6 where it's tragic\nBricks wrapped up in elastic\nIn Europe with a bad bitch\nAnd all we smoke is that cabbage\n\nI'ma hot box in the drop top\nNow the coupe look like a crock pot\nOld school cubes in my ear\nDamn, they looking like Macintosh\nFlyer than an albatross\nRims chopped like applesauce\nI don't pay the pussy what it cost\nDiamonds look like tear drops\nPlay with squares like hop scotch\nRims so above the rim\nNo And1, but anyone of you niggas cross me, I'm up in it\nDump in it, huh?\nI'ma catch a body like a cheerleader\nI'ma die fly like Aaliyah\nR.I.P., I'll see ya when I see ya\n40 thousand dollars on the coat\nIt ain't even cold, I'ma call PETA\nWhip it up with the eggbeater\nWhole band on one sneaker\nAnother band on the other shoe l-l-like a nigga on house arrest\nChop the hit, you decompress, raising bars like bench press\nHad to get the shit up off my chest, hey, hey\nYuh, ayy, woah, damn, ayy, yuh, ayy\n\nHad to get this shit up off my chest\nSendin' shots, you might need a vest\n26 for a nigga neck\nWater diamonds jeweler straight from Fiji\nWhen I'm on my money, I look like a tiki\nIf you got a problem, nigga, don't you tweet me\nI'm a real nigga, Lil Boat don't do Hilfiger\n15 hundred for a still picture\nSaint Laurent, nigga, these ain't Jordans\nCrib fill of clothes like I'm hoarding\nIn the air while you niggas boarding\nIf the cake right, I'ma stick a fork in\nHahaha\nThat damn Lil Boat, he's something else, I tell you\nYeah, that DigitalNas something else, too\nWell, I guess, uh, we gon' go holla at Yachty a little bit\nHe's, uh, he's-he's more emotional, you'll-you'll see what I'm talking about"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsUp Next 3 Lyrics\nAyy, Chris Fresh, Lil Boat, Chris Fresh, Lil Boat\nYeah, and I'm tired of all you pussy ass niggas hatin' on Boat 'cause y'all see that nigga shinin', y'all see that nigga stuntin', y'all see that nigga up next, nigga\nFuck y'all niggas, uh\n\nBitch, I'm the realest you've ever seen\nAnd my new bitch, she a model from Africa\nAny fine bitch with an ass, boy I'm after ya\n22 diamonds, they shine like a brand new dime that you flip for a bet\nPussy nigga got behind the wheel and tried to race with Boat, well that's a cruise for a wreck\nStay with the Tec, gotta check on my neck\nI need eight for a show\nBrother locked up for the blow\nFuck you pussies, bitch, I skipped bein' rookie\nWhat you want a cookie 'cause you got connect?\nNigga play hooky when they see it's Boat time\nIce on my wrist got you thinkin' it's cold time\nDunk on that bitch make you lean on your shoulder\nTripled my views now you thinkin' it's over\nSkirt-skirt that Rover I spent a whole six up in Dover\nMargiela my collar, I look like my father\nWhy'd u even bother? I'm richer I'm better\n26 shit, I dropped it on my sweater\nJust cause it's real leather, Versace my feathers\nKing sized set with the pillows\nDick in her pussy, she call me her hero\nDick in her mouth like a motherfuckin' churro\nKnot so fat like a fuckin' burrito\nShout out taketa her pussy much sweeter\nI lick it then stick it\nThen kick it right on to my brother\nNever fuck none of these hoes without rubbers\nBitch I'm so fly I can float on a cover\nNow I see why you mad, cause I made it over night\nAnd your bitch love Boat, now I see you wanna fight\nAnd I just cannot help it because she think that I'm right\nAnd she don't like you cause your music not excitin'\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nAyy, Lil Boat, QC, what up?\n\nBitch it's G Herbo, swervin' so much\nWatch them start callin' me Swervo\nIn the M6 two door drop with the turbo\nEngine from Russia, my Balmains for Bergdorf\nMy lil' ho from Merlow\nKillas like Marlo\nCome to your block, shoot it up with no sorrows\nStill ride with Glocks and them chops over lanos\nLet off them shells have you duckin' your taco and come back tomorrow\nMaison Like Capo, Rollie a Bimmer, my bracelet a Tahoe\nRiding an i8s in a race through Chicago\nRemember I used to rock Echo and Pac on that Balmain where I go\nBlunts full of posto\nRemember I used to get free bands like Rocko\nGot a white bitch snortin' lines, they El Chapo\nLoadin' up .30's and countin' up guapo get top in my auto\nOops, I mean mobile, on the way home to my house in Herbo Hills\nRemember them nights I was servin' with no deals\nLil' bro on Ess, know he lurkin', he gon' kill, rollin' off four pills\nMy life is so trill, I made a name off my block like I'm O'Neal\nGet face to face with them cops and I don't squeal\nSnitch did a bid but he would've did more years\nNiggas a ho still\nWake up, get more bills\nRich with my squad in Chiraq like I'm Bo Deal\nWhile in Miami we ridin' on four wheels\nBlock 100 deep, got the opps hidin' for years\nPop out, go trill\nGlock color oatmeal\nKnow what I mean, bitch it's brown, it ain't no steel\nRidin', we lurkin', you better keep your steel\nYou gotta be ready to use it in broad day\nYou know little bro will\nAyy, G Herbo 150 dream team, bitch, shout out Coach\nLil Boat, what up?"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsForever Young Lyrics\nAll night I've been watching you\nSo tonight, you're leaving with me\nI've been waiting my whole life to give you it all\nIt's on now, it's on now\nI'm talking the big fancy lights\nThe star studded nights with me\nWe forever young\nWe forever young\nWe forever young\n\nThe music's loud and I'm feeling wild\nCome dance along with the golden child\nI don't know much but sure, let me check your fouls\nTwo technicals but you beautiful\nYou grew up 6 brothers in a cubicle\nAnd they all bustin' for ya if I make the wrong move\nIf I break your heart then I'm a dumb dude\nYou get what you give and I'm the one who loses\n\nBut we could be together forever\nBut we could be together forever and ever\nI wanna live life with you forever and ever\nTogether\nForever young\nForever young\nWe forever young\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nShining bright under the shining sun\nLike moonshine you keep it 99% with me\nI'm feeling all your energy\nI know you love to vibe with me\nI know you love to ride for me\nYour favorite thing to say is, \"Boat, I love when you're inside of me\"\nYour love is like a high to me\nI love to go out my way to make sure you stay happy\nWe forever young\n\nThe music's loud and I'm feeling wild\nCome dance along with the golden child\nI don't know much but sure, let me check your fouls\nTwo technicals but you beautiful\nYou grew up 6 brothers in a cubicle\nAnd they all bustin' for ya if I make the wrong move\nIf I break your heart then I'm a dumb dude\nYou get what you give and I'm the one who loses\n\nBut we could be together forever\nBut we could be together forever and ever\nI wanna live life with you forever and ever\nTogether\nForever young\nForever young\nForever young, forever young\nForever young, forever young\nWe forever young"}
{"text":"Brrr\nHey, RD bruh, it's Boat, yeah\nHey man you know that nigga Yachty that went on the God damn mornin' show\nNiggas try to freestyle\nNiggas tryna act like a nigga ain't got it\nLike a nigga ain't still got it\nLike a nigga ain't really countin' up hundred dollar bills every motherfuckin' day\nLike I ain't bossed up bitch\n\nStop all that flexin'\nWoke up all my niggas, like stop all that restin'\nMight have my OG comin' do a little pressing\nYou niggas is pussy\nI see it, I feel it, I know it, I smell it, it's clear\nFuck I look like sippin' beer?\nI got 32 bitches back home waitin' on me\nGive 32 fucks to a nigga hatin' on me\nGot so much ice you'd think my jeweler flaked on me, God damn\nHold on, money so old, check his colon\nKnot so fat Ben Franklin like who is you foldin'\nWhips so new got these coppers thinkin' it's stolen\nSo they pull me over and see my teeth golden\nIt's over, bro keep the chopper on his shoulder\nJust paid cash for a Benz, and Moms, a new Rover\nStill the youngest nigga sober\nStill the richest nigga over on my side of town\nI'm still the king with the crown\nKing of the teens\nShow some respect and bow down\nNigga talkin' crazy, he get shot down\nAy, ooh, yeah, ay, ah\nHow many times I'ma tell ya?\nYoung nigga I told ya, I told ya, I told ya\nI told ya that RD up next\nI told you that Boat keep a check\nThat Yachty could flex, lil bitch\nWatch how I flip it\nThese niggas get mad cause that weight, I just skipped it\nOvernight shawty, that pussy, I dipped it\nI had to slow it down cause niggas don't get it\nWatch how I do it and watch how I did it\nJust copped a new watch and, oh boy, have I shitted\nRicher than ever\nMore wise and more clever\nBall so hard I need a letter, put that on my sweater\nLil bitch, lil bitch\nLil nigga, you hate how I switched\n26 shit, I dropped that on my wrist\nI'm the richest out the group, just like Kris Jenner\nAll of these niggas beginners\nFuck on that bitch then I skrrt off with spinners in spinners\nAll of my whips got spinners\nLil Boat, Lil Boat\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nJBan$, JBan$\nBitch, stop all that flexin'\nSpent 10 on my necklace\nName droppin', we pressure\nBitch don't want no pressure\nEat pussy for breakfast\nThat bitch actin' reckless, drop her off in Texas\nMy plug, he like Messi\nGot bricks out like sushi, nigga you a rookie\nEmpire, no Cookie\nSaw his chain and I took it\nCatch you off in traffic, bitch don't want no static\nThen don't play like Magic lil bitch\nI ball like I'm Kobe but it's 20, Ginobili\nMy niggas not foldin', talk down, cut you open\nMy neck is on frozen, Olaf\nHe put diamonds forever\nWe shinin', JBan$, he might blind ya, bitch\nTalk down and we find ya, bitch\nJBan$ keep that iron, bitch\nOctober 30th like Mike Myers, bitch\nG-wagon sit on the big tires, bitch\nBitch, bitch, JBan$\n\nNever, never, never, never\nNever ate the box like RD and Jimmy\nI shoot with the semi, one eye like I\u2019m Fetty\nI look out the scope, just give me the scoop\nWhenever you ready, his chest like spaghetti\nThat nigga gon' fold just like a futon\nWould tell her jump on my dick but it's too long\nI just bought a bunch of groupies with Groupon\nTell me what you want?\nTold 'em, told 'em, I told 'em, I told 'em, I told 'em, I told 'em\nHey, hey, I told 'em, I told 'em\nHey, I keep the chrome in my jeans\nHey, just like a chromosome\nHey, popped it with calicorn\nHey, when I get on, I'ma fuck me a Capricorn\nHey, yuh, yuh, ah, ah\nChubba!\nAll of my whips got spinners\nChop the brick in half like it's the winter, December\nPut ah nigga in a blender\nAll these niggas be pretenders\nPretendin', pretendin'\nThese niggas ain't winnin'\nWe still on that mission to get all the blue cheese\nWe got them clips just like a movie\nShe suck me up just like a smoothie\n\nPussy so gooey, she lick me up after she do me\nIt's Boat from the Sixer, I'm cut like some scissors\nI'm gone off the sizzurp, I hit her from the back\nThen hit on that back like she bizzurp\nEat on that pussy like it was some dessert\nMinister, sailing team, take him to chizzurch\nI don't fuck with these niggas, these niggas be snitches\nThey just want my riches, they just wanna fuck on my bitches\nThese niggas, they can't\nThese niggas be jank\nI might pull up with a sword like I was Link\nPull up with a sword like 21\nHit the strip club and throw bands just for fun\nLil Boat\nSailing Team"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsStrike (Holster) Lyrics\nYeah (Mm, mm)\nOkay (Yeah), okay, okay (Mm, mm, mm, mm)\nIt's us (Brr)\n\nI been fucked up, look, I was geekin'\nI was, huh, I was high as fuck, tweakin' (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI was tryna strike shit\nI was tryna strike shit\nI was tryna strike shit like a match, late night, yeah\nStrike like I missed it, strike like I hit the pin\nStrike like I'm not goin' to work, strike, strike\n\nYou knew that shit weren't real when you heard it, you\nYou know the guys sip on drank 'til it's early, yeah\nAll of this Bottega, shit, I shopped at Burlington (Just did)\nDrank man had cracked the seal, I begged him to sell it to\u2014 (I did)\nStars in the roof, this shit ain't nothin', I switch the coup\u0435 (Gang)\nEmo bitch, she like to go take shrooms, look lik\u0435 Betty Boop (Yeah)\nShittin' me? Hop in SRTs and do Fruity Loops (Shittin' me?)\nHe can't play big bank, I switch out whips like they switch out shoes (Yeah)\n\nYeah (Mm, mm)\nOkay (Yeah), okay, okay (Mm, mm, mm, mm)\nIt's us (Brr)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nI been fucked up, look, I was geekin'\nI was, huh, I was high as fuck, tweakin' (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI was tryna strike shit\nI was tryna strike shit (Strike)\nI was tryna strike shit like a match, late night (Strike), yeah\nStrike like I missed it (Yeah), strike like I hit the pin (Yeah)\nStrike like I'm not goin' to work (Yeah), strike, strike\n\nSlide (Okay), slide, shoulders, huh, shoulder, uh\nStack them old hundreds, recreate Yoda\nI don't put no crushed ice in my soda\nPerky got her stuck like a holster, uh\nIt's a gun in my holster (No stylist)\nNew Balenci' out in Dover (Two-twenty)\nIt's a four in my soda\nSit it on a Balenci' coaster (Shh)\n\nYeah (Mm, mm)\nOkay (Yeah), okay, okay (Mm, mm, mm, mm)\nIt's us (Brr)\n\nI been fucked up, look, I was geekin'\nI was, huh, I was high as fuck, tweakin' (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI was tryna strike shit\nI was tryna strike shit\nI was tryna strike shit like a match, late night, yeah\nStrike like I missed it, strike like I hit the pin\nStrike like I'm not goin' to work, strike, strike"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsPardon Me Lyrics\nPardon me, I been actin' lil' poor\nPardon me, I been still actin' poor\nPardon me, I\u2005been\u2005actin' lil' poor\nPardon\u2005me, I been still actin' poor\u2005(EarDrummers)\nPardon me, I been still actin' poor\nPardon me, mix the Act' in the store\nPardon me, I been still actin' poor\nPardon me, sippin' lean at the store (Mike WiLL, Mike WiLL)\nPardon me, I been still actin' poor\nPardon me, sippin' stain at the store\nCarbine sittin' on the seat and the floor\nCarbine sittin' on the seat and the floor\nBarkin', I put that knife on your throat\nTorture, I'ma set fire to that ho\nWalk in designer, head down to the toe\nName the strip club, I throw it\n\nHittin' that throat, she a G.O.A.T.\nSmashin' that throat, she a G.O.A.T.\nFeelin' like an igloo now\nGoons ready to hit you now\n\n(Boat)\nBring the big F out the house\nLet them fuck niggas know who really get foul\nFour hundred thousand right now (Right now)\nFour hundred thousand on me right now (Yeah)\nPull up on the scene, tryna hit it right now\nI wrap the Bentley in snow (Yeah)\nPull up at the house, she waitin' outside, the lil' bitch is ready to go\nGot a Sig Sauer, it's brown like boot\nIt's still my brother, that nigga the truth, nigga the truth\nTwenty-five thousand for eight of my teeth\nThree thousand dollars for each every tooth\nIn too close, pull back the top, shoot out the roof (Brrt), go poof\nI'ma start puttin' these bitches on MARTA\nI'ma stop puttin' broke hoes on charters\nBrother too muddy, he been through too much\nIf you standin' and talkin', might black out the water\nI was twenty years old with six different whips\nPerfect good health, but bought ten different scripts (Woo)\nDawg, it's cheaper to boot her out\nWhen niggas be flexin', nah, this ain't the same\nPromise it's more for my shit plain\nNiggas ain't P's, be lookin' like change\nDon't you forget who showed you more\nShowed you the life and you thought it was strange\nHad the driver pick your ass up from LaGrange\nIn a black Range, I forgot bad hoes could be lame\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nPardon me, I been actin' lil' poor (Hoo)\nPardon me, I been still actin' poor (Hoo)\nPardon me, I been actin' lil' poor (Hoo)\nPardon me, I been still actin' poor (Woo)\nPardon me, I been still actin' poor\nPardon me, mix the Act' in the store\nPardon me, I been still actin' poor\nPardon me, sippin' lean at the store\n\nPardon me, I'm 'bout to shit on this beat\nPardon me, I just went crazy on a freak\nPardon me, I cook that bon app\u00e9tit\nPardon me, I bought Chanel for ten G's\nJust for the pills and my syrup and my weed\nPull out that Lam', I got somewhere to be\nI'm on that, she like\nHit from the back and go deep and go\nI'm on that, she on that\nWe on that, they on that\nCrocodile spillin' all over the burp\nBought her a Birk', could've went bought a vert\nSippin' on syrup got my cup turnin' purp'\nPardon me, I got my side bitch on fleek\nSwiped out the AP and bought the Philippe\nBaguettes on her ankle, she walk so elite\nFlex double C's and she with them big B's\nDouble my cup, man, I'm gone on that E\nVVS cut, she done turned to a freak\nDrivin' the Rolls and I came out on a key\nPlay with that drum like I'm Tommy Lee\nCount up that money, I might just OD\nI took the R out of free, charge a fee\nMe and Lil Yachty done caught us a thottie\nPardon me, I been still actin' poor\nPardon me, sippin' stain at the store\nCarbine sittin' on the seat and the floor\nCarbine sittin' on the seat and the floor\nBarkin', I put that knife on your throat\nTorture, I'ma set fire to that ho\nWalk in designer, head down to the toe\nName the strip club, I throw it\n\nHittin' that throat, she a G.O.A.T.\nSmashin' that throat, she a G.O.A.T.\nFeelin' like an igloo now\nGoons ready to hit you now"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsBetter Lyrics\nOh, you say it's good\nI say it's great\nBut it could be better\nIt always could always be better\nYou say it's good\nBut it could be better\nIt always could always be better\nEverything in life could always be better\nDon't settle for less 'cause then you miss out on more\nEverything in life won't always be pleasure\nYou work for the treasure just to live even more\n\n'Cause you say it's good, but it could be better\nIt always could always be better\nUnlock your happiness and live for forever\nI'll express my life in a letter\nI love you 'cause you be makin' me better\nYou make me feel so much better\nIt could be good\nBut it could be better\nWhen I'm with you, I feel much better\nOh, oh, oh\n\nLet's lay on the hood and look at the stars\nAnd name them whatever\nYou always call that one Trevor\nSince a young one you've always been clever\nLet's grow old, rocking chairs and play checkers\nI wanna spend my whole life with you\nWithout you I feel so blue\nI probably lose my train of to dos\nAll my life I always knew\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nYou say it's good\nI say it's great\nBut it could be better\nIt always could always be better\nYou say it's good\nBut it could be better\nIt always could always be better\nEverything in life could always be better\nDon't settle for less 'cause then you miss out on more\nEverything in life won't always be pleasure\nYou work for the treasure just to live even more\n\nYou said I love ya with those eyes so deep\nThe love you gave me made me feel so sweet\nBaby you against the car, you don't deny me\nLove the way you love me, I really love you\nThey must be blind if they can't see\nI'll pour it up, I'll take you high\nYou so fly\nNeighbors always come around\nWhen you got me raining down\n\nYou say it's good\nI say it's great\nBut it could be better\nIt always could always be better\nYou say it's good\nBut it could be better\nIt always could always be better\nEverything in life could always be better\nDon't settle for less 'cause then you miss out on more\nEverything in life won't always be pleasure\nYou work for the treasure just to live even more\n'Cause you say it's good, but it could be better\nIt always could always be better\nUnlock your happiness and live for forever\nI'll express my life in a letter\nI love you 'cause you be makin' me better\nYou make me feel so much better\nIt could be good\nBut it could be better\nWhen I'm with you, I feel much better\nOh, oh, oh"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsCOUNT ME IN Lyrics\n(Yo Pi'erre, you wanna come out here?)\nBangin' out the motherfuckin' back door\nYeah, you sippin' but you not sippin' Act' though (Facts)\nDouble Cs on my feet, gangbangin' Bs (Gang)\nMake a bitch touch her knees, she was Viet-nese (Ha)\nCrew of bitches poppin' Percs, Es and triple Cs (Pop)\nOff top, give me top 'cause you just a sleaze (Slurp)\nShe want head, she want head, I said, \"Nigga, please\" (Hah)\nTouch my riches, you'll get stitches, you think talk is cheap (Doot-doot-doot, grrt)\nI've been flexin' for a while now (Whoo, whoo)\nStripper bitches tryna trap me for a child now, yeah\nAnd this clip got twelve left like a dial now (Pew-pew-pew)\nIf I get robbed, 911 who I don't dial, nah (Grrt)\nYeah, rap niggas tryna steal my style (Ha, huh)\nStackin' shit, call me Yachty Rothschild\nBet it like a game of poker\nPoker face, Code Lyoko (Lil Boat)\nThese niggas po-po\nBenz sit on twenty-four-fours (Skrrt)\nThat shit go skrr-skrrt\nShe eat nut like a burger\nShe said it's sweet (Ha)\nShe said it's sweet just like nectar (Yeah)\nI walk around the city of Atlanta with a Vector (Brrt)\nHuh, ayy, these niggas got me hot (Whoa)\nDumb bitch, don't you ever dare pop up at my spot (No)\nTalkin' 'bout you mad\nThat's some shots at your dad\nI ain't here to conversate if it ain't 'bout a dollar (Cha-ching)\nNumber (N)ine on my jeans, my watch cost an Impala (Gang)\nI done gave so much knowledge I done turned to a father (Goddamn)\nAnd my brother from the South on the run, he's a robber (Yeah)\nKickin' doors, bangin' hoes, had to stay ten-toes (Whoo)\nIn Miami, in that penthouse fuckin' on ten hoes (Whoo)\nAyy, fuck with me (Yeah)\nI'm rich as hell, your bitch love on me (Gang)\nYou don't have to like me, just don't talk, just don't fuck with me (Fuck it)\nAyy, uh, had to get it out the Civic (Yeah)\nIs there smoke, pussy boy? Please be specific (For real)\nAnd my new young bitch pussy on Pacific\nHad to get a new account, numbers look terrific (Ha)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nAnd yeah (Gang)\nYou can count me in (Mhm, yeah)\nFuckin' on some hoes, you can count me in (Mhm, okay)\nHittin' up them stores, you can count me in (Mhm)\nRollin' in a Rolls, you can count me in (Skrrt, hah)\nYeah (Mhm, gang)\nYou can count me in (Mhm)\nAnd yeah, you can count me in (Mhm, yeah)\nFuckin' on some hoes, you can count me in (Mhm, okay)\nHittin' up them stores, you can count me in (Yeah)\nRollin' in a Rolls, you can count me in (Skrrt-skrrt)\nYeah (Gang)\nYou can count me in (Whoo)"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsBABY DADDY Lyrics\nUh\n\nTell your baby daddy I'm richer (30, you a fool for this one)\nBitch, I don't wanna sip liquor\nStop tryna pressure my niggas\nJust left the club, that shit was weak\nGrab me a ho off the street, huh\nWait 'til I leave, I'm finna fuck, beat it 'til I fall asleep (Woo)\n\nYour baby daddy a sucker, ayy, your baby daddy a buster, ayy\nYour baby daddy so broke, he hit the plug for a free line of coke\nI'm 30 deep with the whole gang, pull up, we bringin' the pain\nFuckin' a bitch, grabbin' her throat, poppin' out all of her veins\nRide a Maybach, not a Mustang, nut on her face, fuck up her bangs\nChoke-slam a nigga, like I was Kane, choppa, it sing like ZAYN\nShoot out the roof, no aim\nShoot out the roof, no aim\nI want the guap, you can have fame\nI make them blue hunnids sing (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nTwo choppas with me, I don't use no pistols (Brr, ooh)\nBig, fat Backwood, it look like a missile (Yuh, ooh)\nMy bitches come when I go blow the whistle (Brr)\nYour girl gave me top, and then you gon' kiss her (Damn)\nYeah, I walked in and I'm drippin', it's Fiji (Ooh)\nToo much ice on me, the doctor come see me (Damn)\nNiggas hate on me, they wish they could be me (Oh shit)\nAll my cars foreign and they ain't got no ceiling (Woo)\nBlow two hunnid bands in a night (Yeah)\nShow you how I'm livin' life (Ooh!)\nFuck five hoes, I ain't got a wife (Damn)\nBust down on Napoleon Dynamite (Yeah)\nGlacier on my neck, I don't need a light\nPour eight in a two liter, I ain't thinkin' twice\nSmoke 20 blunts, yeah, I'm feelin' like a fuckin' kite (Brr)\nPut my dick in her, oh shit, yeah, her pussy tight (Chea, chea, ooh)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nYour baby daddy a sucker, ayy, your baby daddy a buster, ayy\nYour baby daddy so broke, he hit the plug for a free line of coke\nI'm 30 deep with the whole gang, pull up, we bringin' the pain\nFuckin' a bitch, grabbin' her throat, poppin' out all of her veins\nRide a Maybach, not a Mustang, nut on her face, fuck up her bangs\nChoke-slam a nigga, like I was Kane, choppa, it sing like ZAYN\nShoot out the roof, no aim (Brr, brr)\nShoot out the roof, no aim (Hey!)\nI want the guap, you can have fame\nI made them blue hunnids sing (Offset!)\n\nI make them blue hunnids talk (Talk to me)\nPinky ring white, look like chalk (White)\nI got your bitch, I just bought (Bought)\nHow much you think in my vault? (How much?)\nChopper with the pump, it got sawed (Brr)\nPatek cost a hunnid, oh, Lord (Patek gang)\nDiamond VVSs, whoa, whoa (Whoa)\nMy pockets double-stuffed, it overload (Overload)\nSlidin' on your bitch in a peacoat (Slide)\nSuper Bowl on my fist, subzero (Slide)\nBlack Bentayga, it's a emo (Woo)\nShootin' dice in Vegas, shoot a free-throw (Whoa)\nBombs in the trap like a C4 (Bombs)\nFuck her in her mouth, wanna de-load (Uhh)\nBitch I'm not the sheep, I'm the big G.O.A.T. (G.O.A.T.)\nGo and check the peephole (Woo)\nYour baby daddy a sucker, ayy, your baby daddy a buster, ayy\nYour baby daddy so broke (Woo, woo, woo, woo), he hit the plug for a free line of coke (Hey)\nI'm thirty deep with the whole gang, pull up, we bringin' the pain (Gang, gang, gang)\nFuckin' a bitch, grabbin' her throat, poppin' out all of her veins (We did)\nRide a Maybach, not a Mustang, nut on her face, fuck up her bangs (Gah)\nChoke-slam a nigga, like I was Kane, choppa, it sing like ZAYN (Brr)\nShoot out the roof, no aim (Brr)\nShoot out the roof, no aim (Brr)\nI want the guap, you can have fame (Guap, guap, guap), I made them blue hunnids sing (Hey!)"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00eas\ud55c\uad6d\uc5b4\u200bthe ride- Lyrics\nHoo, uh, don't ask no questions on the ride\nMakin' eye contact is suicide, yeah\nWhen I'm alone with my thoughts, I'm terrified\nThat's why I need you here, just by my side, yeah\nA quick zoom to the moon, come along and ride, yeah\n\nBaby, if you scared of heights, just close your eyes\nIt get lonely at the top, baby, come inside\nBaby, bust it open for me, don't be shy\n\nHoo, uh, don't ask no questions on the ride\nMakin' eye contact is suicide, yeah\nWhen I'm alone with my thoughts, I'm terrifi\u0435d\nThat's why I need you here, just by my side, y\u0435ah\nA quick zoom to the moon, come along and ride, yeah\n\nFeel my void (Fill my void), feel my void (Fill my void)\nFeel my\u2014 (Whoa, fill my)\nFeel my void (Fill my void), feel my void (Fill my void)\nFeel my\u2014\n\nI feel empty, riding on E\nA shopping spree may fill the V, V as in void\nSpeaking of void, I may avoid all of my boys\nThat doesn't work, it's unemployed, now I'm annoyed\nAll of the things I once enjoyed doesn't bring joy\nIt just bring noise, it just bring noise\nIt just bring noise, it just bring noise\nIt just bring noise, it just bring noise\nIt just bring noise, it just bring noise (Nice)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nHoo, yeah\nDon't ask no questions on the ride\nMakin' eye contact is suicide (Suicide), yeah\nWhen I'm alone with my thoughts, I'm terrified\nThat's why I need you here, just by my side, yeah\nA quick zoom to the moon, come along and ride, yeah\nA quick zoom to the moon\u2014\n\nCome along and ride, yeah"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsBentley Coupe Lyrics\nHaan?\n(Absolutely)\n\nAnd I just nutted on Trinity (Haan?, bitch)\nBitch you not you, you a mini-me\nFuck up that fuck up in any facility (Hoo!)\nSuckin' on dick must be your main ability (Damn!)\nHatin' ass nigga, ol' fakin' ass nigga\nI'll fry you on a pan, ol' bacon ass nigga (Bow!)\nBeggin' ass nigga, lyin' on your figures\nYou don't pull triggers, nigga, you such a bitch (No! Bitch)\nYou don't pull triggers, you such a snitch (Haan? Bitch)\nNeck full of water, my diamonds glist' (Burr)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Skrr, yeah)\n\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Haan? Skrt)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Skrt)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Skrt)\nIt's Gucci! Let's go\nI might go cop me a- (Lil Boat, skrt-skrt-skrt)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Haan?)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (It's Gucci! Burr)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe  (Haan?)\nI might go cop me a skrt-skrt-skrt (Go! Lil Boat!)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nI might go cop me a don, don (Haan?)\nIn the hood I'm like LeBron\nIt's so much ice on my watch and my pinky\nThat haters wanna cut off my arm (Burr)\nWay too much sauce, I'm like Uzi, Uzi\nWater drippin', I'm jacuzzi, 'cuzzi (Bling)\nShe suckin' it up like a smoothie, smoothie (Haan?)\nI think I'm in love like Choosey Susie (Damn)\nHaters sayin' what they gon' do to me (What?)\nBeefin' with niggas not new to me (No!)\nWatch what you say now, Gucci don't play now\nEA my playground, I love how the K sound (Graow, graow)\nMe and Lil Yachty in Nautica (Nautica)\nPolar bear, Gucci, Antarctica (BRRR!)\n20 chains on like Mardi Gras (Bling!)\nWoke up this mornin', bought another car (Damn!)\nToo much pressure will smother yah (Hoo!)\nYou know the real niggas don't fuck with ya (No)\nWe spillin' Ace of Spades on the furniture (Haan)\nAnd I'll wet a nigga up like a water gun (Grra-grra, Wop)\nSo many Rollies, got my brother one (Brr)\nBust at your boy, get another gun (Pa-pow)\nI raised you lil' boys, you my other sons (Woo!)\nGuwop just spazzed out on another one, Wop! (Yeah)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Skrt-skrt)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Skrt)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Skrt-skrt)\nI might go cop me a- (Lil Boat, skrt-skrt-skrt)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Lil Boat!)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Yuh)\nI might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Yuh, yuh)\nI might go cop me a skrt-skrt-skrt (Uh! Uh!)\n\nAyy (Lil Boat)\nNiggas be mad 'cause I'm richer\nI'll spit on your sister, I pity Marissa (Yeah)\nShe should've fucked with me back when I ain't had shit (Bitch)\nNow my money sittin' tall on giraffe shit (Hah!)\nShout out them Southside bloods in Jurassic (Brrt)\nAsk how I'm doin', bitch nigga, I'm fantastic (I'm Gucci)\nJust got a new bitch, she like doin' gymnastics (Yeah)\nI wrap up that sack with a string of elastic (Yeah, yeah, Lil Boat!)\nYeah, I might go cop me a Bentley coupe (Skrrt!)\nI might go cop me some spinners too (Skrt-skrt-skrt)\nThese hatin' ass rappin' ass niggas be mad\nThey mad 'cause niggas is no longer into you (Time's up)\nDamn, your money short like an interlude (Lil' money!)\nAin't no tellin' what I'm finna do (Lil Boat!)\nGot a crew with amenities, touch me, they strokin' me (Okay)\nThey look at Boat like he the holy trinity (Uh!)\nBut I encourage philanthropy (Yeah)\nYeah and I ball when I rap like I'm Master P (Swish)\nIf one more old ass nigga say somethin' 'bout 2Pac or Biggie\n(Yeah, yeah)\nI might lose my sanity\nLil Boat! (Bitch!)\nNah, for real, man, I don't know nothin' about that shit, man\nStop askin' me 'bout that shit, ain't gon' tell y'all too many times\nMan, I'm young and I'm rich\nYou prolly mad 'cause your kids keep playin' me\nThey not gon' stop playin' me\nIt's Lil Boat, bitch\nSuck my dick"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsBOOM! Lyrics\n30, you a fool for this one\nRun it up, mhm\nI finally realized why you niggas hatin'\nNiggas ain't gettin' no money, man\n'Cause when you ain't gettin' no money, you know what I'm sayin', like\nYou know what I'm sayin', stressed out, you know what I'm sayin'\nYou stressed out when you get no money\nWe stressless over here, niggas is stress free\nYup, ayy, yup, ayy, yup, ayy\nYuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh\nYuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, ayy, yuh, yuh yuh\nYuh, yuh, yuh, damn, yuh, okay, yuh\nYuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh\nGod, Boat, God, Boat\n\nAnd that lil' car go fast (Fast) and that lil' car go zoom (Zoom)\nThat lil' bitch got a fat ass (Ass), took that lil' bitch to the room (Whoo)\nMy niggas walked in with sticks (Sticks), my niggas walked in with brooms (Brooms)\nTry to take one of my chains (Yeah), all you gon' hear is a boom (Boom)\nBoom! Boom! Boom! Boom! (Damn)\nBoom! Boom! Boom! Boom! (Grr)\nDon't give a fuck 'bout your clique, uh\nY'all can get hit with the boom (Boom)\nDon't give a fuck 'bout the bitch, uh\nGive her the dick, then I zoom (Skrr)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nI'm like \"Whoops\", huh, I might peel off in a coupe, huh\nNigga better not take my chain, huh, blow that bitch up like a nuke, huh\nI do this shit for my mama, my mama told me don't forget 'bout my roots (Huh)\nI just been countin' my commas, talk down I'ma stomp that boy out in my boots (Huh)\nHop in the whip and go vroom, nigga talk down, I go boom\nI won't even break a sweat, I'ma just call up my goons\nGet yo ass gone for the low, my shooters gon' ride to the Moon\nThen I'ma fuck on ya ho, take that bitch back to the room\nAyy, I'ma shoot shots if you talk down on my name\nI don't miss shots, but my choppa got aim\nOld money, but it don't walk with a cane\nVVS diamonds, just talk to my chain\nYeah I beat her back out, it get knocked out the frame\nFuck my old whip, had to cop me a Range\nShe don't fuck with me right now, but as soon as I drop\nGuarantee she gon' fly for the fame\n\nAnd that lil' car go fast (Fast) and that lil' car go zoom (Zoom)\nThat lil' bitch got a fat ass (Ass), took that lil' bitch to the room (Whoo)\nMy niggas walked in with sticks (Sticks), my niggas walked in with brooms (Brooms)\nTry to take one of my chains (Yeah), all you gon' hear is a boom (Boom)\nBoom! Boom! Boom! Boom! (Damn)\nBoom! Boom! Boom! Boom! (Grr)\nDon't give a fuck 'bout your clique, uh\nY'all can get hit with the boom (Boom)\nDon't give a fuck 'bout the bitch, uh\nGive her the dick, then I zoom (Skrr)\nDrop and roll (Ooh, ooh), death row (Ooh)\nI bought six cars before 20, uh\nGave her that dick, now she love me (Ooh)\nGave her that dick, now she love me\nLean in the glass, like it's bubbly, huh\nThese niggas hate that I'm rich, huh\nThese niggas hate on my bitch, yeah (Guck it)\nFuck with that fuck up (Damn)\nFuck, then I dip, 'cause she stuck up (Ooh)\nCrowd hands up like a stick-up (Yeah)\nHit the flick of the wrist, huh\nBank on Lemony Snicket, huh (Ooh)\nIce on my neck, cost a ticket, huh (Ooh)\nYour career rocky like ridges, huh (Ooh)\nTest me, you gon' need some stitches\nThat goes for any of you bitches (Lil Boat)\nChopsticks (Ooh), nigga, get beat up in the moshpits (Yeah)\nLeave a nigga lumpy, like cheese grits (Yeah)\nDick 'bout as long as four fish sticks (Ooh)\nMiddle finger to a cop, racist pig that can suck on my cock\nBig rocks all inside of my watch, that's not a Rolex, my nigga, that's Swatch\n\nAnd that lil' car go fast (Fast) and that lil' car go zoom (Zoom)\nThat lil' bitch got a fat ass (Ass), took that lil' bitch to the room (Whoo)\nMy niggas walked in with sticks (Sticks), my niggas walked in with brooms (Brooms)\nTry to take one of my chains (Yeah), all you gon' hear is a boom (Boom)\nBoom! Boom! Boom! Boom! (Damn)\nBoom! Boom! Boom! Boom! (Grr)\nDon't give a fuck 'bout your clique, uh\nY'all can get hit with the boom (Boom)\nDon't give a fuck 'bout the bitch, uh\nGive her the dick, then I zoom (Skrr)\nSkrr, skrr, skrr\nSkrr, skrr"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsShoot Out the Roof Lyrics\n\nYeah, I see everything that happens\nYou know what I\u2019m sayin'?\nI see all you little niggas, jockin' and bitin' style\nNiggas ain\u2019t me, bruh, niggas can\u2019t be me\nNigga won't be, you feel me?\nI know you niggas wanna be part of the game, but you niggas can\u2019t be me\nThe fuck, nigga?\nLike, I only got one little brother in this motherfucker, you feel me?\nOnly got one little brother in this motherfucker that\u2019s rockin' wit' me, nigga (JBan$)\nThe rest of you little niggas, you little niggas is just biting swag, nigga\nGimme my swag back, I don\u2019t fuck with these niggas\n\nNigga you ain't Uzi, you ain't Carti, damn sure not me\nNever on the scene, what you mean? Nigga, yadda mean\nBallin' like Yao Ming, paint her face, nigga, just like Sting\nCame up poppin' beans, then I dropped it 'cause I'm not a fiend\nAll you niggas wanna be me, rub the pussy for a genie\nYour bank account lookin' teeny, Tina Turner, big burner\nYoung nigga too rich for a fight, new crib on a kite\nPenthouse, living large, youse a broke boy rapping 'bout a dream\nYou ain't never shot the steam, stop lyin' to the teens\nBig Benz, too clean, three thousand dollar jeans\nThree times three, nine in the jeans, spent that on my sister\nGhost ride the old Fisker, ball hard like Derek Fisher\nRidin' 'round with my niggas, ridin' 'round with my niggas\nAll my niggas do is\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\n\nNiggas sneaky like mice\nJust got a new bitch, white with a little black like dice\nNiggas think I'm too nice, I'll still slap a nigga next year\nWait 'til I switch the gear, nigga never checked the rear\nNah, cause I'm only going one way, one way, bitch, on the runway\nSix bitches want me, nigga, thats a fun day\nAll my niggas with me they keep gunplay, gunplay\nLil Boat\n\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof\nShoot out the roof, shoot out the roof"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsPretty (SS2) Lyrics\n1Mind\n\nI stroll through cities, gang, they stay with me\nBut never have I seen someone so pretty like you\nEvery dream I seem I have is always 'bout you\nOh\n\nBeautiful soul with good energy\nI kept it real with you, never pretend to be anything that I was not\nI just want you at my spot\nI just want you with me now\nWhere are you now? Tell me what town\nFly you up out of your city\nJust so that I can look at you and tell you you're pretty, you know\nSo many thoughts that I have\nJust wanna take you and show yo' ass off to my city\nYou lookin' so pretty, you act so sadity\nI love when you with me, you shittin' on bitches\nOh, you shittin' on bitches\nAnd when we together, we shittin' on every Mr. and Mrs\nAin't no bitch nowhere that could replace your kisses\nYou put Lil' Boat in his zone, I'll never leave you alone\nPack up your bags and come to my city\nI'll move you right into my home\nAnd I fuck with you 'cause, babygirl, you is never running through my phone\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nI stroll through cities, gang, they stay with me\nBut never have I seen someone so pretty like you\nEvery dream I seem I have is always 'bout you\nOh\n\nI know you done been through a lot\nBut trust me when I say that I\u2019m there for you\nI know you done been through the pain and the struggle\nSo, baby, just let me take care of you\nWe can go fly off to Paris\nWe could double date with Perry\nWe can make love on a ferry\nBuy you the shoes where the heels red like cherries, oh\nAnd when you havin' a bad day\nI'll hold you tight straight through the night\nCheer you up when you be down\nWe can go run up the town\nI work so hard just so that we can flex on 'em\nLike look at me now\nTried to shit on me back then\nThat was back then, I remember when\nFuck 'em we ball, it's just me and you\nNever need nobody, pull off in big body\nQueen of my life, girl, I see you\nGirl, I promise that I need you\nI stroll through cities, gang, they stay with me\nBut never have I seen someone so pretty like you\nEvery dream I seem I have is always 'bout you\nOh\n\nYeah-yeah, yeah-yeah\nLet me take care of you\nWe should make\nOne and one equal two, whoa-whoa-whoa\nNever been a fan of goodbye\nRather put two and two together like x and y\nWant you there every morning to tie my ties\n'Cause being with you is like being on a wild roller coaster ride\nHow many nights can I go without seeing your pretty face?\nWe could do it anywhere, you pick the time and the place\nYou\u2019re my little freak, I always want you in my space\nEvery moment I spend with you, there's nothing I'd erase\n\nI stroll through cities, gang, they stay with me\nBut never have I seen someone so pretty like you\nEvery dream I seem I have is always 'bout you\nOh\nDon't you fall on me, babygirl\nStand tall for me, babygirl\nDon't you evolve on me, babygirl\nOh, oh\nPlease don't you fall on me, babygirl\nPlease stand tall for me, babygirl\nDon't you evolve on me, babygirl\nOh, oh, oh\nYou mean it all to me, babygirl\nDon't you fall on me, babygirl\nStand tall for me, babygirl\nOh, oh, oh\nYou don't do nothing\nDon't you evolve"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsNo Hook Lyrics\n\nYeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, yeah, ayy\nLil Boat\nYeah, ooooh, uhh, woah\n\nNever thought that I would ever make it this far\nDropped out of school and started swerving foreign cars\nYoung reckless nigga catch me standing on the bar\nI remember back in high school I was servin' bars\nWhen my bro got locked up he had 30 in the jar\nAyy, 30 grams\nAyy, yeah, gram slam\nWatch me when I pull up, I'ma pull up trans-am\n\nThey call me trans-am shawty (Trans-am)\nMigo gang worth a 40 (Damn)\nI'm feelin' like I am Jeff Hardy (Hardy)\nLook what you niggas just started (Look)\nWhen I fuck her I bet I record it (Smash)\nChop a brick like I'm Chuck (Who)\nChop a brick like I'm Chuck Norris (Ayy)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nMight cop a crib in the forest (Mansion)\nI flew your bitch out the state and she started takin' pictures like a tourist (Flash)\nWe made a song with no chorus (Ooh)\nMy boy got more plants than a florist (Ooh)\nI got a bitch in Japan (Japan)\nI just fucked up 30 bands (Damn)\nI thumb it straight to my hand (Ayy)\n\nMoney go straight to my hand (Money)\nSold out shows in Japan (Sold out)\nHer pussy leakin' on the Xans (Splash)\nLil Engine could but I can (Ayy)\nAyy, I'm on top like a space shuttle\nCame from the bottom like a pillar\nTwo hoes on me, I'm in the middle (Ayy)\nI'm a real robber (Real) havin' pill problems (Pill)\nI'ma finesse doctor (Graa, graa), solvin' problems (Graa)\nMy bitch want a bag (Bitch)\nI can't get it, she mad at me (Damn)\nWoke up in the mornin' got her diamonds, 10 carats\nI was in the trap bird singin' no parrots (Brrr)\n\nFree my brother Nino out there servin' crack addicts (Nino)\nFree my brother Nino out there makin' trap magic (Nino)\n50 thousand got a pussy nigga flabbergasted (Pussy)\nBricks hiding in a casket (Bricks)\n5000 for my glasses (Five)\nBeat the box, no Cassius (Beat)\nMy niggas pullin' up with masters (Pull up)\nCame in the world dabbin' (Came in)\nQuavo, Lil Yachty, got fashion (Lil Yachty)\nYou niggas slower than molasses (Slow)\nOnce you eat it up you is an addict (Eat it)\nI should have played with the Mavericks (Mavericks)\nBricks on a boat, my brother Lil Boat (Ayy)\nHe wanted it so bad I served him with soap (Soap)\nHe wanted it so bad I served him with soap (Soap)\n\nGot so many chains I can swing on a rope\nAll these broke niggas hatin' on Boat (Boat)\nPussy niggas need to learn how to cope (Ooh)\n25 for a young nigga coat (Uh)\nRunnin' round with Young Quavo, we with it (Ride)\nAll these bitches lookin' at us, they 'bout it (Bitch)\nNiggas talkin', said I'm next, I don't doubt it (Niggas)\n\nAyy, ayy, ayy\nLil Boat and Lil Quavo\nAyy, ayy\nLil Boat and Lil Quavo, yeah\nI put them bricks on a boat\nI put them bricks on a boat\nQuavo name Huncho\nI put them bricks on a boat\nRealest shit I never wrote\nRealest shit I never wrote\nI put this shit on the boat\nThis the realest shit I ever spoke"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsCoffin Lyrics\n(Buddah bless this beat)\nIt's us (Hit 'em with the Jab)\nStrappin' the keeper, mm, uh, keepin' the keys on, uh\nKeepin' the keys to the WAP when I pull out (Boys)\nGo, okay, slatt, okay, damn, 'crete, 'kay\nKeepin' the keys to the coupe when I pull out (Brrt)\nGimme the keys to the 'crete when I pull out ('Crete, 'crete)\nGimme the keys to the coupe, I'ma pull out (Skrrt)\nGimme the keys to the coupe, I'ma (Skrrt, uh)\nGo, I'm on the top of this shit (Yeah)\nOkay, okay (Earl on th\u0435 Beat), okay (Concrete Boys)\n\nGimm\u0435 the keys to the coupe, I'ma pull out\nGotta wear condoms 'cause I do not pull out (Ew)\nWalk in the spot, fifty deep with the tool out\nThey know that it's us, show out at the cookout (Slatt, go)\nWe gettin' money, don't care 'bout what they on (Us)\nFinger fuck hunnids at home all alone\nIn a suit with a stick like Capone (Beep)\nBo for the Jackson, like Shamone\nI took the chrome to chrome (Shamone)\nI took his bitch, I boned (Beezy)\nI made her leave her phone, yes\n(Yeah, oh) Who said we ain't made records? (Go)\nRich-ass still eatin' Checkers\nStill pull up, double decker (Boys)\nStill control the whole Mecca\nStill that nigga, still (Still)\nI still fuck her, I will (Will)\nMight put this bitch in my will (Will)\n(Wait, hold on, you're gon' do what?\nYou're trippin', nigga, I'm from, nigga) Us, chill\nFuckin' this bitch in the hills\nI ain't even lick her, she wet as an eel\nEw, nigga, I'm just talkin' (Oh my God)\nGet on these beats and I'm not even rappin'\nI'm literally flossin' and walkin' (Walk)\nGet on these beats that I'm literally walkin'\nOn God, I really be flossin' (Walk)\nBitch in the sheets, hit that bitch from the back\nPut the pussy inside of a coffinSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsTERMINATOR Lyrics\nThat be Maaly Raw!\n\nDamn, I might just fuck on my Uber driver\nDeep in that bitch like a scuba diver\nHit buddy boy with the neutralizer\nTerminate, terminate, Schwarzenegger\n\nI'm Fergenstein, I'm the Ferginator\nI fuck the pussy, you masturbator\nDiamonds is cut like a gladiator\nTerminate, terminate, terminate\n\nTryna come to a young nigga crib\nIt's the last button on the elevator\nAnd my bed so far from my kitchen\nI might build me an escalator\nI rock the fur like an eskimo\nYou wanna fuck me? Bitch, yes or no?\nWait... you wanna fuck me? Bitch, yes or yes?\n\nWait! Terminate, terminate\nHold on, my yacht got an elevator\nNigga try to stick me for my paper\nI keep my diamonds in the fridgerator\nHold on, terminate, terminate\nFergie be barkin' like I'm omega\nShe suck me like Now & Later\nShe ask me if I want it now or later\nCarlton dancin' on my Cartier\nWill Smithin', I'm the Fresh Prince\nHold on, I mean the king 'cause I'm destined\nHood Pope ain't got time for peasants\nYou better bow at my presence\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nTerminate, terminate, terminate\nYour lil' bitch's face is a sperm bank\nWoah, I don't believe in the term, \"Can't\"\nCoast on the block with a gold shank\nEarnin' my goat rank\nPull up in No Limit army tank\nShe see my hair, bet that bitch faint, Lil Boat!\nTerminate, terminate, terminate, damn\nNo combo, I need my green eggs and ham\n\nThis Fergie Ferg, I'm from the Hungry Ham\nShe make dick disappear like Alakazam\n\nUgh, terminate, terminate, terminate\nMake that lil bitch face a sperm bank\nSwimmin' in that pussy like a mermaid\nSwaggin' like err day my birthday\nTerminate, terminate, Terminator\nYacht Master Boat and the Ferginator\nYou can't shit on me, boy you a constipator\n\nCame from the 6 with my brothers\nGot MCM covers, I love fuckin' mothers\nGold chains for my brothers, I ride for my gang\n22 diamonds, salsa in the chain\nDon't you dare ever talk down on my name\nBitch, lil' bitch\nI got several spots like a cheetah\nOne where I stay with Anita\nAnd one where I fuck on Jaquita\nHold on man, you mean Shaquita? I beat her\nI beat that pussy up, she sing like Aretha\nYou're upper echelon? I don't believe yah\nMe and Yachty rich, still eatin' pizza\nHood Pope and Lil Boat, I sing like a preacher\nOpen my mouth and it feel like a freezer\nAirport, that lil' bitch, she came from Ibiza\nIn the PJ 'cause she ain't got a visa\n\nUgh, terminate, terminate, terminate\nMake that lil bitch face a sperm bank\nSwimmin' in that pussy like a mermaid\nSwaggin' like err day my birthday\nTerminate, terminate, Terminator\nYoung Master Boat and the Ferginator\nYou can't shit on me, boy you a constipator\nUh, uh, uh, uh\nLil Boat!"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPolski\u200bpRETTy Lyrics\nCome bust this pussy open\n\n(Ha) I am so pretty\n(Ha) I feel so pretty\n(Ha) I'm so damn pretty\n(So pretty, so pretty, so pretty) I feel so pretty (Ooh)\n\nHmm, hmm, hmm\nLet's go to Sunset City, go to Sun-city\nWoke up on the right side, I feel so pretty\nKiss my girl on her thighs, grab on her titties\nI know that they despise, I feel so sexy\nIf someone say I'm not, must have not met me\nWarm you up when it's cold, you call me bestie\nDon't test me, I'm too sexy\n\n(Ha) I am so pretty\n(Ha) I feel so pretty\n(Ha) I'm so damn pretty\n(So pretty, so pretty, so pretty) I feel so pretty (Ooh)\n\nSo pretty, yeah, he like my curly hair\nWrinkled off the crease, I keep a pleated piece, yeah\nShe's a keeper, so I throw out the receipt\nJeepers Creepers, swear these niggas so spooky (Hee)\nSaid \"I'd die for this pussy,\" RIP (Ah)\nDidn't lie, that dick put me right to sleep (Put me right to sleep, ah)\nSkin so smooth, moisturized (That's some coco cream)\nFuck, yeah, you're pretty, what am I? (Yeah, uh-huh)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nYou know you've always been my favorite\nYou've always told me to enjoy my seconds on earth with tea\nThe most important moments in life aren't when you're born and when you die\nBut when you met me, when we became us"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsDirty Mouth Lyrics\nMan, I'm on some shit right now\nI'm on some, some, some rich nigga shit\nSome millionaire shit\n'Cause lot of these niggas is pussy\nAll these niggas is broke\nI know these niggas is not doing what they pretend to be\nSuck my dick, bitch\n\nI don't really care about my enemies\nMy new crib came with amenities\nYou gotta pay for my energy\nYou gotta pay for my ohh, ehh\nDon't make me pop up the trunk\nDon't make me two hand the pump\nDon't make me call up my bro\nPull up in that junk and go dump, dump, dump\nI dress so these niggas can see me\nI know your lil' bro wanna be me\nI know your lil' sister wanna freak me\nThat's probably why you wanna shoot me\nThat's why your auntie is a groupie\nSend me pictures of her coochie\nShe said they nicknamed her juicy\n'Cause she keep a wet pussy\nPussy nigga don't push me\nI pull up deep, not just me\nI brought a brand new chain\nThat shit dance like N-Sync, Justin\nI saw your Rolex, brother\nThat bullshit started rustin'\nNone of you niggas impress me\nNone of you niggas would press me\nI get more pussy than Preston\nMy niggas bang red paisley, that's for real\nI made a full million off my deal\nI made a full 5 out the next\nStupid bitch tried to front on my name\nI screenshotted every single text\nBitch I bite like a T-Rex\nMy future bitch look better than my next\nMy next bitch look like a top model\nShe suck dick like a baby bottle\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nI'ma tell you like this, man\nYoungest nigga in this motherfucker, man\nI'm not askin' for your respect\nI give a fuck if you fuck with me, nigga\nI got M's, nigga\nI'm talkin' 'bout the letter before N, nigga\nM's, bitch boy\n\nI didn't ask for respect, no\nAll I care about it my check\nLouis Vuitton on my sneakers\nMy main bitch a diva, she is a dick pleaser\nUh, I never miss like I'm Curry\nYeah, can't eat that pussy if it's furry\nMy bitch pussy pink just like Kirby\nMy bitch suck it up just like Kirby\nShe drives whips like it's Kentucky Derby\nShe tote pistols so no one can hurt me\nDon't even try it though\nI hit your mama at the Hyatt House\nThen I offered her Waffle House\nThat bitch could never see my penthouse\nShit that's just a fact\nI nutted all on her back\nI nutted all on her tracks\nSlid my black card through her cracks\nNasty young nigga, I'm all in it\nPosted on the block in a ball fitted\nPosted on the block with the same niggas\nI got that guap and it change niggas\nRappin' ass niggas love Dracos\nI love the AR 'cause its range different\nAin't supposed to talk about guns\n'Cause I gotta lot of shit goin'\nI was trying to be the nice guy\nUntil these niggas thought I was hoein'\nThese niggas thought I was pussy\nI had to show 'em I'm 'bout it\nI put that bitch on my Snapchat\nWatch how she start feelin' clouted\nShe gon' suck everyone around me\nFresh as hell like I wash laundry with Bounty\nI can't front like I didn't come from my county\nI know where I'm from, I'm my daddy's son\nI never switched up one time\nPick up that back end now it's ice time\nThis boujee bitch said that she's hungry\nWell stupid lil' bitch it's rice time\nLil' Boat"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsHit Bout It Lyrics\n(Yeah, yeah, go)\nWoke up feelin' shiesty\nI'm on a, uh (Go)\nYeah, okay\nWho the hell is-\n(Grrr, grrr, grrr, grrr)\nYeah, uh\n\nWoke up, feelin' shiesty, give me that pussy nicely (Go)\nHundred thousand on an ice piece, finna fuck a Pisces (Mm)\nFifty hoes wanna be wifey, that's just too unlikely\nPull up six deep just like the Isleys, pick your next move wisely (Go)\nThey say talk is cheap, but fuck that, my convo pricey (Yeah)\nTwo hundred racks inside a shoebox, bitch, these ain't no Nikes (Ooh)\nShe think I'm finna trick, I told her, \"Don't get too excited\"\nNigga touch one hair on top of my head, them boys incitin' riots\nI fuck her from the back and grip her neck, this bitch can't keep quiet (Ah)\nThe big bad hood you said you from is lookin' mighty quiet (Shut up)\nI only eat my main bitch pussy, I'm on a straight diet\nMy shooter lookin' like a center, homie 6'5\"\nCould kill me once, could even kill me twice, shit, I got six lives (Yeah)\nI'm thinkin' of movin' to Africa, and marry six wives (Yeah)\nI'm in New York, we still got several poles and seven big knives (Uh)\nMight take his life for tellin' several lies, can't let shit fly (Fuck)\n'Cause if we do, he'll tell the next guy, and then it's all bad (Uh)\nWho said that you could come around this side without a hall pass? (Uh)\nI used to tweak, pourin' fours and Wock' inside a wine glass\nThese niggas burnt, outchea' poppin' Xans for a bypass (Who the hell is-)\nI see you niggas every single time like an eyelash (Uh)\nBitch said she like athletes, so I walked in with them thigh pads\nI'm paranoid, I can't hang out for long, bitch, I'm a nomad (Uh)\nChristmas came around, and I had bought my steppers doormats (Uh)\nInside the whip, the seats is bright orange like the Lorax (Fuck)\nI'm built tough, was made to be outside just like Gore-Tex\nI should make a song about Ferraris, I don't do 'Vettes (Fuck)\nMy brother need a new Tek, my mama want a new bag\nThese niggas flip-flop every week, they in a new set (Fuck)\nI know these niggas hate me 'cause I run around like a nuisance\nToo fly, over niggas heads like an air vent\nWhere I'm from, it's one way in and out just like a camp tent\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nPut a convertible on the Glock, it look like Lamborghini (Yeah)\nPut a convertible on the Glock, it look like Lamborghini\nI just told lil' baby to bop before my girl see me (Who the hell is-)\nPull that lil' stack, get niggas whacked, you better not look for pinky\nIn and out the trap that's where I stay, but I ain't one sleepin'\nI'm totin' an SK for no reason, all my opps are dead\nI got rubies on my teeth and plus my Molly's red\nI'ma drop his ass soon as I see him, it ain't no discussion\nTold her it ain't nothin' to get her a bust down if that pussy bussin'\nAll of a sudden, bitches love me 'cause I'm gettin' money\nI'ma punish any nigga decide to stand in front of me\nI was spendin' bands before it was a trend from the ugly\nAlways got revenge, if I ain't get my man, I got his cousin\nThey know I made my woodwork, hop out with a Oak\nHaters poppin' out the woodwork, but they wanna prope\nTalkin' straight gas nigga, I want all the smoke\nI just told Lil Yachty to scoot over, let me drive the boat\nAR with the scope 'cause the Cartier's nearsighted\nJust got a nigga yoked, you don't like it, we could hit 'bout it\nWe could hit 'bout it, yeah, we could hit 'bout it\nHittin' the missionary she start yellin', tell her, \"Be quiet\"\nI'm with Lil Yachty, we got twin 'Raris\nWe don't fuck with niggas, you don't like it, we could hit 'bout it (Who the hell is-)\nWe could hit 'bout it, yeah, we could hit 'bout it\nI ain't passin' my reefer, you don't like it, we could hit 'bout it\nWe could hit 'bout it, yeah, we could hit 'bout it\nI ain't doin' no features, you don't like it, we could hit 'bout it (Hit 'bout it, hit 'bout it)"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsOOPS Lyrics\nPolo Boy Shawty on the track, so I am killin' it\n\nNever needed nothin', nigga\nCanary yellow diamonds like the wrapper of a Butterfinger\nHit him, then my brother follow up, that's a double stinger\nTold the bitch the truth, she runnin' 'round like it's Jerry Springer\nIt could be an opera singer\nTwo speedin' tickets in a month, that's the Bentley coupe\nSplit the check in half with the gang, that's what brothers do\nCheck a bitch, checkmate, check please, woo!\nTwo cribs, six cars, under 22\n\nOops, oops, ooh\nFuck a nigga bitch, I'm like, \"Oops\" (Oops)\nPass her to the gang, nigga, that's an alley-oop (Oop)\nRidin' 'round town in an all-white coupe (Yeah)\nGang of bad bitches blow a nigga like soup (Yeah)\nYou was buyin' Polos, I was buyin' coupes\nOops, oops, oops, oops\n\nYeah, 2 Chainz\nLames still rockin' them Ray-Bans (Ray-Bans)\nThem sure look like Ray-Bans (Woo)\nTook a brick, then got a spray tan (Hah)\nRepresent the A like a exam\nLive from the block, shine in the dark\nGrind \u00e0 la carte, time on the clock\nCan't get it back, where you niggas at?\nSold so many Z's, can't take a nap (Tell 'em)\nTired of the fraternize\nI am as real as they advertise (Yeah)\nI like the pussy with sanitize (True)\nShe left her thong, tried to sabotage\nBitch, you know I got a main (Got a main)\nI got my pockets on Country Kane\nGator shit on like a Florida game\nIf you spill somethin' on me, I wouldn't get a stain\nOops, oops\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nOops, oops, ooh\nFuck a nigga bitch, I'm like, \"Oops\" (Oops)\nPass her to the gang, nigga, that's an alley-oop (Oop)\nRidin' 'round town in an all-white coupe (Yeah)\nGang of bad bitches blow a nigga like soup (Yeah)\nYou was buyin' Polos, I was buyin' coupes\nOops, oops, oops, oops\n\nRacks up, fat knots, deep bass, big watch\nSix cars, young Yacht, too rich, clean stitch (Woo)\nLean fixed, grill-less, new whip black as Seal, sis\nDiamonds all real, sis, yo daughter my gutter, bitch\nThe belly gettin' bigger (Woo), might put some ice on my trigger (Huh)\nChoppa start singin' like Trigga (Trigga)\nDon't fuck with me, nigga\nYeah, late night, I'm out with your bitch, someone took a pic, ooh (Yuh)\nWhat that is up on my wrist? That's a whole brick, Lil Boat (Woo)\n\nOops, oops, ooh\nFuck a nigga bitch, I'm like, \"Oops\" (Oops)\nPass her to the gang, nigga, that's an alley-oop (Oop)\nRidin' 'round town in an all-white coupe (Yeah)\nGang of bad bitches blow a nigga like soup (Yeah)\nYou was buyin' Polos, I was buyin' coupes\nOops, oops, oops, oops"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsDipSet Lyrics\nYeah, bitch, bitch (Lil Boat), bitch\nLil Boat, bitch (Abso-lutely), bitch, bitch\nYeah you, yeah you, yeah you\n\nStunt or get stunted on\nYoung nigga never got fronted on\nBet that lil bitch gon' sing every song\nBet that lil bitch coming right up out her thong\nBet that lil- uh-uh, damn\nStunt or get stunted on\nYoung nigga never been fronted on\nBet that lil bitch gon' sing every song (skrrt)\nBet that lil bitch coming right up out her thong (skrrt)\n\nYeah, woah, damn, damn\nThey do it all on the camera phone\nNever discriminate on skin tone\nChopper gon' sing like a Kem song\nCan't fuck around with these ding dongs\nI need like 10 for a sing along (hah!)\nShe sing along while she finger bang\nBanana clip for Orangutan\nMonkey ass nigga tried to take my figures\nThat shit an issue, we gon' rip his tissue\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nYeah, you\nDipset (skrrt), young nigga Dipset (young nigga Dipset)\nStunt or get stunted on (get stunted on)\nYoung nigga never been fronted on (never been fronted on)\nBet that lil bitch gon' sing every song (every song)\nBet that lil bitch come right out her thong (gon' sing every song)\nBet that lil bitch sing us every song (she gon' sing every song)\nBet that lil bitch come right out her tho-o-ong\nDipset (Dipset), young nigga Dipset (young nigga Dipset)\nStunt or get stunted on (get stunted on)\nYoung nigga never been fronted on (young nigga never been-)\nBet that lil bitch gon' sing every song (every song)\nBet that lil bitch come right out her thong (hoo! oh-no-no)\nBet that lil bitch sing us every song (hoo-ouu! every song)\nBet that lil bitch come right out her thong-ong-ong (Offset!)\n\nThe bitch got good brain, she got a doctorate\nLookin' down, my diamonds hangin' on me like an ornament\nRemember when niggas they left me behind like an orphanage\nThey didn't want to open doors so we had to kick it in\nRidin' round in a coupe with no ceilin' in\nGot your bitch and she suckin' on my dick again\nBakin' soda with the coca, we gon' mix it in\nThese fuck nigga really sweet like some cinnamon\nHad a mili, lost a mili, got it back\nYour bitch ran off, where she goin'? Where she at?\nA cappella freedom, oh the fans singin' that\nI am not the same\nDrop the top, on no lamborghini brain\nFuckin' these bitches, I'm fuckin' up these bitches' brain\nDiamonds hittin' like Jackie Chain\nYeah, I'm a rock star, I don't care and I pop my shit like Ric Flair\nLong money I got stocks and shares\nI'm fuckin' with the pretty women\nRidin' round with a life sentence\nSame chopper but we got two different clippings\nYoung nigga, we gon' take it to the 9th innin'\nAfter we done we gon' go and put a knife in it\nYeah, you\nDipset (skrrt), young nigga Dipset (young nigga Dipset)\nStunt or get stunted on (get stunted on)\nYoung nigga never been fronted on (never been fronted on)\nBet that lil bitch gon' sing every song (every song)\nBet that lil bitch come right out her thong (gon' sing every song)\nBet that lil bitch sing us every song (she gon' sing every song)\nBet that lil bitch come right out her thong (oh-oh-oh)\nDipset (Dipset), young nigga Dipset (young nigga Dipset)\nStunt or get stunted on (get stunted on)\nYoung nigga never been fronted on (young nigga never been-)\nBet that lil bitch gon' sing every song (every song)\nBet that lil bitch come right out her thong (no-no-no)\nBet that lil bitch sing us every song (every song)\nBet that lil bitch come right out her thong-ong-ong (gang)"}
{"text":"75 Contributors\u200bshe ready Lyrics\nEarlOnTheBeat\n30, you a fool for this one\nMhm, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah\nOh -yeah, ayy\n\nShe said she wanna be my main bitch, ayy\nShe think she ready to be famous, ayy (Yeah)\nShe said she wanna be my wife, ayy (Yeah)\nShe think ready for this life, yeah, yeah\nYou really think you ready for this life? WhoaI just wanna know if you gon' ride, whoa\nI just wanna know if you gon' ride for me\nPaparazzi taking pics, you on the side of me\n\nQuick camera flash, brand new Herm\u00e8s bag\nBenz truck, ride it fast, don't you dare ever look back\nI can change your life, gotta make sure that you right for me\nMake your wildest dreams, everyday reality\nOoh, everyday steak is for dinner, havin' good sex in a Sprinter\nYour last nigga was a renter, well, girl, I'm a buyer\nPirelli all on my tires, I'll tell your boss you quit if you not already fired\nI love gettin' wires, counting up, counting up, count\nAll these Ms in my account, lift up the truck with a mount\nHittin' home runs like Jeter, 'bout to go cop me a brand new two-seater\nI been knew that you was a eater, that's why I fuck with you\nI feel like I'm stuck with you, I need you to come on through\nJust pass this test or two\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nShe said she wanna be my main bitch, ayy\nShe think she ready to be famous, ayy (Yeah)\nShe said she wanna be my wife, ayy (Yeah)\nShe think ready for this life, yeah, yeah\nYou really think you ready for this life? Whoa\nI just wanna know if you gon' ride, whoa\nI just wanna know if you gon' ride for me\nPaparazzi taking pics, you on the side of me\n\nAll these camera lights, shawty, welcome to the life (Ice)\nAll these diamonds, all this ice, shawty, I could treat you right (Yeah)\nYou could be my main, introduce you to the fame (Fame)\nPut you on a private plane, shawty, just don't ever change (Nah)\nAnd we can go straight to the top (Yeah), we can be countin' this guap (Yeah)\nAnd we can be takin' trips to different cities, just me and you all in a drop (Skrrt)\nI just got that new McLaren (Yeah), oh, that's that new Gucci you wearin' (Gucci)\nJust got some new titties and matching new ass, that's why these niggas they starin'\nAnd they mad 'cause you rollin' with me, you keep that pussy soakin' for me\nAnd I don't really care what they try to say, 'cause you out in the open with me\nWhen I usually keep it low-key\nGirl, you're makin' it hard for me, girl, you look like a star with me\n\nShe said she wanna be my main bitch, ayy (Be my main)\nShe think she ready to be famous, ayy (Famous, yeah)\nShe said she wanna be my wife, ayy (Be my wife, yeah)\nShe think ready for this life, yeah, yeah (Is you ready for this life? Yeah)\nYou really think you ready for this life? (For this life, whoa)\nI just wanna know if you gon' ride (Whoa, is you gon' ride?)\nI just wanna know if you gon' ride for me (If you gon' ride)\nPaparazzi taking pics, you on the side of me (You on the side of me, yeah)"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsGo! (Remix) Lyrics\nT, double E, N, T, I, T, A, N, S\nThey're the real hero's takin' down the Big Menace\nTeen Titans flow\nTeen Titans know\nWhen there's real trouble, baby\nTeen Titans go!\n\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\n\nBeast Boy, can change straight up to any animal (Animal? Animal?)\nYes, any animal (Boom, ah)\nYep, he's a kitty now (Oh)\nCheck out this kitty, meow\nStar, the fire\nThe live, the wire\nThe alien princess\nIn her alien attire\nThe energy blast at supersonic speed\nIs you down with the Titans? Brother, yes indeed!\nBoo-ya, boo-ya, got his cannon blaster\nCyborg, woo, baby, Mr. Hi-tech master\nWoah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah\nMr. Made by disaster\nWoah, woah, woah, woah, woah, woah\nMr. Boom Boom Blaster!\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nTeen-teen Titans\nThe Titans\nTeen Titans!\nTeen-teen Titans\nThe Titans\nTeen Titans!\nTeen-teen Titans\nThe Titans\nTeen Titans!\nTeen-teen Titans\nThe Titans\nTeen Titans!\n\nBoom with the smoke\nBombs and birdarangs\nBo staff hitting, steady doing his thang\nRobin Robin the leader, Robin Robin in charge\n(Show 'em his baby hands!) Nah, Robin Robin's are large!\nNah, nah, no, for real! Those are some super small hands!\nWhat? No they're not! Whatever, just keep going, just get going!\n\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nRaven is here to drop it on you even harder\nThere's no darker than she, Raven's as dark as can be\nCheck it, Azarath Metrion Z-zinthos\nTeleport and magical powers they adios!\n\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nGo, Teen Titans, go!\nGo, Teen Titans, go!Embed"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsLil Boat Lyrics\nHow many niggas you know count that shit up like Lil Boat?\nHow many niggas you know get that shit straight off the boat?\nNiggas think we ain't balling, shit, they better check the score\nAll of my niggas be shooting, they bust that shit straight at your throat\n\nIf you know like a know then you know that I know that niggas be hating\nI can't wait 'til the day I call up moms and tell mama, I made it\nI can't wait 'til the day I call up all of the people that hating\nI fucked that bitch then I passed her to bro 'cause I know that you hate it\nCan't wait 'til I make it\nFuck waiting, shit I'm finna take it\n\nWhy do these niggas be hating, these niggas be hating, these niggas be hating\nI don't give a fuck about the politics, don't give a fuck about debating\nMe and my brother be balling like Eli and motherfucking Peyton\nAll of these diamonds on Yachty, these diamonds on me, all these diamonds be skating\nI watch my brother jump out the front door, he whip that pot with that bacon\nAyy, ayy, and my bitch ass fat, I told that bitch never to stop eating bacon\nHow many niggas you know count that shit up like Lil Boat?\nHow many niggas you know get that shit straight off the boat?\nNiggas think we ain't balling, shit they better check the score\nAll of my niggas be shooting, they bust that shit straight at your throat\nAnd they think that everything funny, I see why all these niggas jokes\nI sit courtside with my brothers, I sleep in Versace covers\nI fuck with that bitch with no rubber, don't give a fuck about another\nI promise I do not love her, fuck her then dump her, I do not cuff her, no\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nIf you know like a know then you know that I know that niggas be hating\nI can't wait 'til the day I call up moms and tell mama, I made it\nI can't wait 'til the day I call up all of the people that hating\nI fucked that bitch then I passed her to bro 'cause I know that you hate it\nCan't wait 'til I make it\nFuck waiting, shit I'm finna take it"}
{"text":"43 ContributorsLife Goes On Lyrics\nLife goes on\nWell, fuck these bitches, count your money cause you work for it\nLife goes on\nBackstabbin' niggas, cut 'em off, you'll be fine cause\nLife goes on\nI know you just lost your job, but stay up cause\nLife goes on\nI swear, I swear it do, it do\nLife goes on\n\nI had a hard, hard life, ayy\nIt's been that way all my life, ayy\nI had to earn my stripes, ayy\nHad to pay my part, ayy\nI know what you're goin' through, ayy\nYou just want someone to love you, ayy\nFeel like there's no one on your team\nHad to hit the block when I was 14, ayy\nAyy, since I was a young nigga, I knew what I wanted to be\nLike Martin I had a dream, like Martin I had a dream\nWatch out for 12, might have to move the trap, heard it's a sting\nHow could I fold? It's nothin' but solid niggas on my team\nHad to weed out the rats, so I can roll up a bag\nThese broke niggas leeches, just wanna run up a tab\nBut so long, I'm so gone\nLife goes on, life goes on\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nLife goes on\nWell, fuck these bitches, count your money cause you work for it\nLife goes on\nBackstabbin' niggas, cut 'em off, you'll be fine cause\nLife goes on\nI know you just lost your job, but stay up cause\nLife goes on\nI swear, I swear it do, it do\nLife goes on\nI swear, I swear it do\n\nI remember bein' broke\nCouple dollars in my pocket, I could barely cop a soda\nI didn't know what to do\nA college kid lost just like everybody else\nUp late tryna figure out myself\nMama had no job so I got a 9 to 5\nJust when I thought we lost it all\nShe said, \"Boy be strong, God gon' keep us in our home\"\nBlessings come true, I swear they do\nYou might be down at the moment\nBut stay there and you'll be up soon\nI know you're tired of the bus\nStack up and pull off like vroom\nStay consistent and watch how your money moves\nAnd watch how your old friends hate on you\nBut fuck 'em because\nLife goes on\nWell, fuck these bitches, count your money cause you work for it\nLife goes on\nBackstabbin' niggas, cut 'em off, you'll be fine cause\nLife goes on\nI know you just lost your job, but stay up cause\nLife goes on"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsSplit \/ Whole Time Lyrics\n\nSippin' the peach soda\nThem niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Frrp)\nSippin'\u2005the\u2005peach soda\nThem niggas\u2005inside, they gon' hide 'til the\u2005heat is over (Frrp)\nSippin' the peach soda\nThem niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over\nI'ma rap 'til the beat is over\nTwo Chanel bags, the same price as my mink sofa\nAnd I move like the king cobra\nSlimin' them out, dawg, I didn't have to think it over\n(Earl on the beat)\nFrrp\n\nSippin' the peach soda\nThem niggas inside, they gon' hide 'til the heat is over (Uh)\nI'ma rap 'til the beat is over (Uh)\nTwo Chanel bags, the same price as my mink sofa (Go)\nAnd I move like the king cobra (Go)\nSlimin' them out, dawg, I didn't have to think it over (Slatt)\nThis lil' bitch, I'ma bend her over\nAfter I'm done, call the gang, I'ma send her over (Gang)\nI'm in tune with the UPS (Yeah)\nWaitin' on packages, KPreme gon' do the rest\nGot some bitches in Budapest\nStrapped with them Ks, they walk around wearin' bullet vests (Ooh, frrp)\nI need you to do more but speak less\nYoungins gon' open, uh\nYoungins gon' open 'em up like some Mucinex (Go)\nGive me top, baby, keep the sex (Go)\nMy dick get bigger when I see a money check\nUsed to didn't have a hundred bands (Beep)\nNow I'm outside with the gang doin' the money dance\nI'm in rush hour, roadrunnin' (Mm)\nI'm in rush hour, roadrunnin' like Jackie Chan\nMy big brother was beatin' pans (Beat it)\nLil' brother psyched out, he might go shoot your mans (Buh, buh, beep)\nSunday through Sunday (Sunday)\nI got them bitches comin' on the runway (On the runway)\nFuck with the feng shui (Fuck with)\nBreak a bitch back like the wood with a sensei\nFuck did that nigga say? (Fuck 'em)\nYou wasn't 'round at the gym back at Lindley\n(Beep) Split\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\n\nYeah\nUh-huh (Told my slime Earl, hold it, uh)\nYeah (Hold that shit down and they gon' see it)\nUh-huh (You gon' see it and now he see it)\n(Really held it down)\nUh-huh (Feel me?)\nUh-huh (For real), uh-huh, uh-huh\n\n(Beep) Look (Go)\nI'm hated the most, I don't give a damn (Go)\nI used to swipe, finesse through the Skype\nThrough the night, I would eat on the Grand Slam (Swipe)\nDon't be like me, I'm a millionaire\nStill ridin' dirty 'round town like Chamillionaire (Don't be like me, woo)\nThese niggas softer than Build-A-Bear\nPenthouse, then make her eat with no silverware (Shit, ayy, fuck, for real)\nI'm crackin' this bitch like some software (Go)\nI got her boyfriend on my crosshair\nHe talkin' down (Phew), go the sound\nI'm in New York, need a loft here (Damn)\nBitch, I'm a motherfuckin' boss here (Damn)\nNo, ain't no nigga soft here (Fuck 'em)\nMy niggas down, they came from the town (Phew)\nThey let it off here (Slatt)\nAudemars Piguet, ice me (Ice)\nWhere I be fuckin' this Pisces?\nShe wanna beat up a wifey (She was down)\nI like the baguettes, I like these emeralds\nDamn, them shits look like a icy (Ice)\nDifferent in school, check out the IQ\nI made more guap than the IT (Shit, yeah)\nNah, whole time niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down)\nYeah, whole time niggas never lied, niggas keep a hundred rounds (Whole time, frrt)\nYeah, home alone, nigga run up on me, do 'em like Macaulay Culkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah)\nTwo-fifty for the Bentley coupe, I ain't drivin', leave it parkin' (Fif')\n\nLot of my choices was dumb shit\nGang pull up on the block and they dump shit\nMy niggas got red on their head\nRed on their head on some Trump shit (Brrt)\nI'm swervin' the 'Burban down Highland (Skrrt)\nSwervin' the whip on some drunk shit (Swerve)\nI'm not a fighter at all\nBut I stomp his head, wanted him dead (Prrt, prrt, prrt)\nWon't get a foot in my conscience (Poh)\nThese bitches hang 'round for the content (Bitch)\nIt took me way outta context (Oh)\nMy youngin' gon' blow like a Semtex (Shit, beep)\nIll everywhere like some Germ-X (Yee)\nJust tell my nigga his turn next (God)\nBurn that shit down\nDon't play with me, bitch, I'ma burn up (Burn)\nYeah (Burn), young nigga, earn that (Brrt)\nDon't speak on no shit you don't know about\nBefore you speak on it, go learn that\nShit, shit, yeah (Shit)\nFor real, keepin' this shit for real (Beep)\nThree in the two like Shaquille\nI don't even know how to feel (Yeah, beep)\nNah, whole time niggas hold shit down (Frrt, frrt, hold it down)\nYeah, whole time niggas never lied, niggas keep a hundreds rounds (Whole time, frrt)\nYeah, home alone, nigga run up on me, do 'em like Macaulay Caulkin (Shit, shit, shit, yeah)\nTwo-fifty for the Bentley coupe, I ain't drive it, leave it parkin' (Fif')\n\nFrrt, frrt (Go)\nFrrt, frrt\nFrrt, frrt"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsForever World Lyrics\nAnd if I could, with you I would be forever\nForever in love, so in love...\n\nLove me forever, girl\nMy mind racin', I'm with you, girl\nHuh, yeah\nLove me forever, girl\nYou know you my forever world\nHuh, yeah\nForever mine, forever mine, forever mine\nHuh, yeah, yeah, huh\nLove me forever, girl\nYou know you my forever world\nHuh, yeah\n\nBaby hol' up\nPull up, Lamborghini, lift the door up\nBaby know I'm slime, real slime like a boa\nBaby, you a dime, I put diamonds from your neck to your toe-a\nBaby, you worry too much\nI get my vibe through your touch\nFuckin' thots, that's not enough\nSleepin' in the whip, no house\nNo guap, baby girl, huh, that's that real love\nBaby, you was riding when things was tough\nBaby, you a whole diamond in the rough\nYou know you're forever mine\nI'll never leave you behind\nForever mine\nLil Boat!\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nLove me forever, girl\nMy mind racin', I'm with you, girl\nHuh, yeah\nLove me forever, girl\nYou know you my forever world\nHuh, yeah\nForever mine, forever mine, forever mine\nHuh, yeah, yeah, huh\nLove me forever, girl\nYou know you my forever world\nHuh, yeah\n\nNever will I leave from your side\nI choose you, I know you gon' ride\nI fuck on hoes on the side\nBut that's just for the neck, girl, no lie\nNever had real love, I'm bad at trusting\nI just fuck, then I move on, no cuffing\nYou held it down back when I was out hustling\nTryna turn nothing to something\nI know you're special\nAnd I hope you make it big one day\nLet these niggas try you, I'm the first with the gunplay\n'Member when your moms brought my dog on a Sunday\nI've been trippin' lately, need to get out the sunken place\nAnd you super fly, you could walk on a runway\nYou still mine although I know you hate me\nI should have gave you the world, but I fucked up\nLate nights on 14th Street givin' butt rubs\nI tell myself in my mind that I need that\nI see you and I'm scared what you see back\nYou come around when you want, I don't need that\nI've had so much heartbreak that I bleed black\nAnd if I could, with you I would be forever\nForever in love, so in love...\n\nLove me forever, girl\nMy mind racin', I'm with you, girl\nHuh, yeah\nLove me forever, girl\nYou know you my forever world\nHuh, yeah\nForever mine, forever mine, forever mine\nHuh, yeah, yeah, huh\nLove me forever, girl\nYou know you my forever world\nHuh, yeah\n\nAnd if I could, with you I would be forever\nForever in love, so in love..."}
{"text":"75 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\ud55c\uad6d\uc5b4Portugu\u00easREACH THE SUNSHINE. Lyrics\nStarin' in the mirror and what do I see?\nA three-eyed man starin' back at me\nTwo for the flesh and one for the soul\nBut where did man go? I'm tryna fill that hole\nTryna fill that hole\nFill that hole\nFeel my touch\n\nYeah\nSpeak with your mind\nSpeak with your mind\nIt's only us left (It's only us left)\nDividin' time, livin' between the lines\nOnly one goal\nTo reach the sunshine\n\n\nCan you feel it?\nBallroom dance with my demons (Ballroom dance with my demons)\nLook pon' the dance floor, they're schemin' (Look pon' the dance floor, they're schemin')\nAt first I didn't believe it, but why shouldn't I?\nI'm a bad man (Bad man)\nHmm, I'm bad\nI'm a bad man\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nHa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha\nExactly, ha-ha-ha, ha\nHa-ha (Can you feel it?)\nHa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha\nCan you feel it?\nHa-ha\n"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsRun Down Lyrics\n(Enrgy made this one)\nOn my mama, I just, nigga\nNigga just got off his ass\nFlew up out here to really talk some shit with these niggas (Frrp)\nYou wanna talk, you can talk hella shit (Boat, Boat)\nOn God, look, yeah\n\nCome and suck on my jeweler dick\nMy doctor almost died, I made my bitch go and clean his spit\nYeah, on my mama, I need him here\nHe gon' write the scripts 'til he dip to go hang with Kobe\nWraith pulled me over, no question, he didn't owe me\nDamn, this bitch just called my name like she really know me\nAin't a rap nigga in the world that can say they ho'd me\nI just got a S-I-G in the back foldin'\nI bought SRTs in my sleep, it didn't hurt my pockets\nI just saw a sealed pint of Act' and it hurt my sockets\nReal VVS on my bitch, ain't no heart lockets\nI live on the lake, leave the crib and forgot to lock it\nIt's okay, I got cameras there\nAnd my brothers sleep in the upstairs, we got hammers there\nAnd my other brother trap close, he got Pamela there\nGood with the block like Tyson Chandler was there\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nForty-four Dweller on\nBreakin' hearts with a Chrome Hearts sweater on\nBreakin' charts on house arrest, I ain't left from home\nTakin' narcs and pourin' codeine in styrofoams\nI keep a cup of lean on me, don't wanna die alone\nWhat the fuck is one pint? I wanna buy a load\nI got the plug to send them bricks, I'm tryna find Lil Boat\nTired of buyin' jewelry and cars, I'm finna buy a goat\nShit, sixty pointers in my ear\nI can buy like ten pairs, shit, and one won't hurt me\nTold Double my next piece gon' be thirty for thirty\nMe and Mike takin' blues, goin' thirty for thirty\nAin't got no feelings but I told my lil' bitch it's gon' hurt if you hurt me\nThe funeral home'll prolly run out of dirt if you murk me\nStart my day off with a six of some Purp and a Perky\nIf the pastor sold dope I walk in the church with a turkey\n\nGang, gang\nRio just put on me a hundred racks, fresh out the bank\nTwo Gs just put on me, pourin' drank right out the pint\nI got bitches sellin' pussy, look like Tyra Banks\nI'm rockin' Chrome Hearts, shootin' basketball just like I'm Drake\nThis shit ain't nothin' to my niggas\nYoungest nigga in my crew, got like six figures\nI been drippin' since the Trues with the thick stitchin'\nEvery time he think about his bro he reminiscin'\nBoy, we don't shoot up no houses, we hit niggas\nBoy, I been sippin' dirty water with my Flint niggas\nAyy, cuz', I just made a lot of blues with my Crip niggas\nBlood, I could never be no bool with no snitch nigga\nI need a Wockhardt pool so I could swim in it\nI'm 'bout to fill a fuckin' coupe with like ten bitches\nWe just made a pop pitch black like a ten of Tris\nI been in the basement wrappin' work like I'm Big Tigger\nJust got my dick sucked by a caucasian\nGlock hit him from three different ways, he caught all angles\nWalkin' through the set with 'seppis on, buyin' Palm Angel\nLil' bitch been chasin' me for years, she got strong ankles\nVezzo, let me see that watch one time, I need some motivation\nI was totin' traps and sellin' dope when you was roller skatin'\nGot a bitch pregnant in September, had a COVID baby\nCrazy thinkin' 'bout the situation, we ain't have no relation\nYachty, lemme see that anchor chain, I'm tryna fuck an actress\nI just paid six thousand and some change for a fuckin' mattress\nShoot the baby K with no aim, I bust it backwards\nSpice talkin', got the Ghetto Boyz movin' up the ladder\nHold on, I ain't done yet\nI just finished me a lil' bitch, Mortal Kombat\nMy daddy caught a body with this Glock, it's a compact\nAdd another body to the count, then take the gun back\n\nKeep up, the way that we been goin', we ahead, ahead\nNigga, just five years ago, I was scared of red\nWe was droppin' Act' like droppin' trash in the trash can\nOoh, yeah, it was nothin' to it\nTold her that her pussy ain't shit unless I nut into it\nI can't really do no extra shit, I do enough movin'\nI would go and buy another brick but ain't enough movin'\nI heard Flint niggas gettin' love but do too much shootin'\nYou ain't really active like we is, you do too much coolin'\nDroolin', park my car wherever 'til I move it\nI'm nasty, fartin', out to eat and don't excuse it\nBro, I hate that I can buy whatever now 'cause I abuse\nBought a pint just to pour four fours just to do it\nBuyin' jewelry 'cause I put myself on off of music\nTake my Perc' fast 'cause I'm already high and I might lose it\nThis a hunnid cash and I can count it out to you to prove it\nIt's amazin', I'm still out here dodgin' dope cases\nMight drop a 2020 Benz, same color as a raisin\nLouie split a Perc' 30 with me and made me take it\nThree-five of A1 in the 'Wood, had to face it\nHad my crib slappin' like the car, I guess that's why they raided me\nWhen I was sellin' dope I had a couple fiends that stay with me\nTen thousand dollars in a day, you can't make a G\nTwo hunnid a gram and I'm stiff, you gotta come to me\nIt's all hustle, ain't no love for me\nGot my old and my new bitch, they baby daddy can't fuck with me\nG-R-I-N-D Hard, that shit stuck with meEmbed"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\ud55c\uad6d\uc5b4IVE OFFICIALLY LOST ViSiON!!!! Lyrics\nAh, yeah\nAh\nHuh-ha\nFuck\n\nI did way too much drugs, I've been swirlin' and spinnin'\nI did way too much drugs, I've been swirlin' and spinnin'\nKeep the fireplace warm, I'm almost home (Almost there, I'm almost there, mm)\nI've officially lost vision, ha\n\nI found my turf (My turf)\nBad decisions with the chrome in my hand (My hand)\nI've been tempted to go clone my seed\nI just think there should be more like me (Like me, yes)\nKnow you miss the thought of you and me (Ooh)\nKeeping up with all the Jones', I can (I can)\nSome are different, I keep ice in my hand (Hand, ice)\nAnd I'm spinnin' like a modern home ceilin' fan (Fan)\nI just balled up my fist, I cannot feel\nI think I did one too much, many pills (Fuck)\nI've officially lost vision\n\nOh, save your tears for when you get old\n'Cause niggas out there ain't in the story you wrote\nRealize who's friend and then who's foe\n'Cause you got everything they want, you better keep that low\nDoin' all you can tryna keep your hope\nBut I'll be gone, before you wake\nOld memories, they start to fade\nYou'll always get a prayer from me back home\nYou'll always get love, even when you're dead wrong\nThese bitches get low, I can go lower\nVibrations is high, keep niggas on they toes\nI'm gettin' in your head more than you may know\nI'm here just breathin' (Ooh-yeah, ha, hee-hee)\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\nI've officially lost vision\nI've been sent to a mental prison\nI've been forced to make some terribly bad decisions\nAll these voices in my head, I need an incision\nI could see the sky fall, and I'll lose you (Ha)\nThis little tiny sheet of paper could change your life\nIt's chemically proven, It's chemically, uh (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nHuh, literally blind\n\nYeah, huh-huh"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsGood Day Lyrics\nOh, oh, oh, oh\nMan, today's a good day\n(B-B-Big Los on the track, boy)\n\n'Cause I'm rich, rich, rich, rich, rich\nWalking down the street and I just copped a big booty bitch\nMan today's a good day, hey, ay-ye-ay-ye-ay-ye-ay\nHey, ay-ye-ay\n'Cause I'm rich, rich, rich, rich, rich\nAnd these diamonds on my wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist\nMan today's a good day, hey, ay-ye-ay-ye-ay-ye-ay\nHey, ay-ye-ay\n'Cause I'm rich\n\nToday I don't have any haters\n'Cause I could care less what they saying\n'Cause I'm having a good day, hey, ay-ye-ay-ye-ay\nHey, ay-ye-ay\nI just check my bank account and there's so many O's\nI could give a motherfuck about any these hoes\n'Cause I am rich, rich! Rich, I'm rich\nI give a fuck about a bitch! A biatch\nOh, I know, I just sold a show\nPark my car in the wrong spot but it still ain't get towed\nSee Lil Yachty LiveGet tickets as low as $20You might also like\n'Cause I'm rich, rich, rich, rich, rich\nWalking down the street and I just copped a big booty bitch\nMan today's a good day, hey, ay-ye-ay-ye-ay-ye-ay\nHey, ay-ye-ay\n'Cause I'm rich, rich, rich, rich, rich\nAnd these diamonds on my wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist\nMan today's a good day, hey, ay-ye-ay-ye-ay-ye-ay\nHey, ay-ye-ay\n'Cause I'm rich\n\nMore money, more problems (Cash!)\nBut I cherish every moment 'cause I came from the bottom (What else?)\nCop Moms a Coup\u00e9 'cause my bank so colossal (What else?)\nMe and Yachty on a yacht, we pop a hunnid bottles (Swear!)\nAnd I'm rich, ya bitch (Rich)\nCatch me in the Fisker going crazy as I change the gears to six (Skrt!)\nEvery day's a good day only if you're living rich (Every day's a)\nHolding blue hunnids, a hella good mix (Money!)\nI feel good today, I might cop a Stingray (Cop a)\nI love to get paid and she watch me Blu Ray\nI got five different hustles, so get money five ways\nI'm up twenty-four hours and grind seven days\nFlippa!\n'Cause I'm rich, rich, rich, rich, rich\nWalking down the street and I just copped a big booty bitch\nMan today's a good day, hey, ay-ye-ay-ye-ay-ye-ay\nHey, ay-ye-ay\n'Cause I'm rich, rich, rich, rich, rich\nAnd these diamonds on my wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist\nMan today's a good day, hey, ay-ye-ay-ye-ay-ye-ay\nHey, ay-ye-ay\n'Cause I'm rich"}
{"text":"Enviyon on the mix\nNo, no, no, no\nNo-no, no, no, no\nNo, no, no, no, no\nNo, no, no, no\n\nI still see your shadows in my room\nCan't take back the love that I gave you\nIt's to the point where I love and I hate you\nAnd I cannot change you, so I must replace you, oh\nEasier said than done, I thought you were the one\nListenin' to my heart instead of my head\nYou found another one, but I am the better one\nI won't let you forget me\nI still see your shadows in my room\nCan't take back the love that I gave you\nIt's to the point where I love and I hate you\nAnd I cannot change you, so I must replace you, oh\nEasier said than done, I thought you were the one\nListenin' to my heart instead of my head\nYou found another one, but I am the better one\nI won't let you forget me\n\nYou left me falling and landing inside my grave\nI know that you want me dead\nI take prescriptions to make me feel a-okay\nI know it's all in my head\nI have these lucid dreams where I can't move a thing\nThinking of you in my bed\nYou were my everything\nThoughts of a wedding ring\nNow I'm just better off dead (Uh, uh, uh)\nI'll do it over again\nI didn't want it to end\nI watch it blow in the wind\nI should've listened to my friends\nLeave this shit in the past, but I want it to last\nYou were made outta plastic, fake\nI was tangled up in your drastic ways\nWho knew evil girls had the prettiest face?\nYou gave me a heart that was full of mistakes\nI gave you my heart and you made heartbreak\nYou might also like\nYou made my heart break\nYou made my heart ache (I still see your shadows in my room)\nYou made my heart break\nYou made my heart ache (Can't take back the love that I gave you)\nYou made my heart break (Were made outta plastic, fake)\nYou made my heart ache (I still see your shadows in my room)\nYou made my heart break again (I was tangled up in your drastic ways)\n(Who knew evil girls had the prettiest face?)\n\nI still see your shadows in my room\nCan't take back the love that I gave you\nIt's to the point where I love and I hate you\nAnd I cannot change you, so I must replace you, oh\nEasier said than done, I thought you were the one\nListenin' to my heart instead of my head\nYou found another one, but I am the better one\nI won't let you forget me\nI still see your shadows in my room\nCan't take back the love that I gave you\nIt's to the point where I love and I hate you\nAnd I cannot change you, so I must replace you, oh\nEasier said than done, I thought you were the one\nListenin' to my heart instead of my head\nYou found another one, but I am the better one\nI won't let you forget me\nLeave this shit in the past, but I want it to last\nYou were made outta plastic, fake\nI was tangled up in your drastic ways\nWho knew evil girls had the prettiest face?\nEasier said than done, I thought you were\u2014\n\u2014instead of my head\nYou found another\u2014 better one\nI won't let you forget me"}
{"text":"Mhm, they're rotting my brain, love\nThese hoes are the same\n\nI admit it, another ho got me finished\nBroke my heart, oh, no, you didn't\nFuck sippin', I'ma down a whole bottle\nHard liquor, hard truth, can't swallow\nNeed a bartender, put me out my sorrow\nWake up the next day in the Monte Carlo\nWith a new woman, tell me she from Colorado\nAnd she love women, she'll be gone by tomorrow\nWho am I kiddin'?\nAll this jealousy and agony that I sit in\nI'm a jealous boy, really feel like John Lennon\nI just want real love, guess it's been a minute\nPissed off from the way that I don't fit in (I don't fit in)\nTell me, what's the secret to love? I don't get it\nFeel like I be runnin' a race I'm not winnin'\nRan into the devil today and she grinnin'\n\nHey, these girls are insane, yeah, uh\n\nAll girls are the same, they're rotting my brain, love\nThink I need a change before I go insane, love\nAll girls are the same, they're rotting my brain, love\nThink I need a change before I go insane, love\nYou might also like\nTen minutes, she told me it would take ten minutes\nTo break my heart, oh, no, she didn't\nFuck livin', I'ma drown in my sorrow\nFuck givin', I'ma take, not borrow\nAnd I'm still sinnin', I'm still losin' my mind\nI know I been trippin', I'm still wastin' my time\nAll the time given, am I dyin'? Am I livin'?\nIt's fuck feelings, my sorrow go up to the ceilin'\n\nAh\n\nNow I am insane, demons in my brain, love\nPeace I can't attain 'cause all these girls the same, love\nNow I am insane, demons in my brain, love\nPeace I can't attain 'cause all these girls the same, love"}
{"text":"Mm-mm, mm-mm-mm-mm, mm-mm-mm, uh\nI can't breathe (Chopsquad), I can't breathe, 999\nWaiting for the exhale\nI toss my pain with my wishes in a wishing well\n\nI can't breathe, I'm waiting for the exhale\nToss my pain with my wishes in a wishing well\nStill no luck, but oh well\nI still try even though I know I'm gon' fail\nStress on my shoulders like a anvil\nPerky got me itching like a anthill\nDrugs killing me softly, Lauryn Hill\nSometimes I don't know how to feel\n\nRing-ring, phone call from depression\nYou used my past and my memories as a weapon\nOn the other line, I talk to addiction, huh\nSpeaking of the devil, all the drugs, I miss them\nThis can't be real, is it fiction?\nSomethin' feels broke, need to fix it\nI cry out for help, do they listen?\nI'ma be alone until it's finished\nYou might also like\nThis is the part where I tell you I'm fine, but I'm lying\nI just don't want you to worry\nThis is the part where I take all my feelings and hide 'em\n'Cause I don't want nobody to hurt me\n\nI can't breathe, I'm waiting for the exhale\nToss my pain with my wishes in a wishing well\nStill no luck, but oh well\nI still try even though I know I'm gon' fail\nIt's stress on my shoulders like a anvil\nPerky got me itching like a anthill\nDrugs killing me softly, Lauryn Hill\nSometimes I don't know how to feel\n\nSometimes I don't know how to feel\nLet's be for real\nIf it wasn't for the pills, I wouldn't be here\nBut if I keep taking these pills, I won't be here, yeah\nI just told y'all my secret, yeah\nIt's tearing me to pieces\nI really think I need them\nI stopped taking the drugs and now the drugs take me\nThis is the part where I tell you I'm fine, but I'm lying\nI just don't want you to worry\nThis is the part where I take all my feelings and hide 'em\n'Cause I don't want nobody to hurt me\n\nI can't breathe, I'm waiting for the exhale\nToss my pain with my wishes in a wishing well\nStill no luck, but oh well\nI still try even though I know I'm gon' fail\nIt's stress on my shoulders like a anvil\nPerky got me itching like a anthill\nDrugs killing me softly, Lauryn Hill\nSometimes I don't know how to feel"}
{"text":"Man, what? (Haha)\nThis shit funny, one sec\nOof, this Hennessy strong as fuck, boy\n\nShe told me put my heart in the bag (In the bag)\nAnd nobody gets hurt (No hurt)\nNow I'm running from her love, I'm not fast (Fast)\nSo I'm making it worse (I'm making it worse)\nNow I'm digging up a grave from my past\nI'm a whole different person (I'm a whole different person)\nIt's a gift and a curse (It's a gift and a curse)\nBut I cannot reverse it\n\nI can't reverse it\nIt was a gift and a curse\nAnd now I'm drinkin' too much, so I'ma talk with a slur\nLast time I saw you, it ended in a blur\nI woke up in a hearse\nYou said, \"You loved me first\" (First)\nOne thing my dad told me was, \"Never let your woman know when you're insecure\"\nSo I put Gucci on the fur\nAnd I put my wrist on iceberg\nOne thing my heart tells me is\n\"Flex on a ho every time they're insecure\"\nI can't see it through, I'm running from you\nIs your love for real? (For real? For real?)\nIs your love really true?\nYou might also like\nShe told me put my heart in the bag (In the bag)\nAnd nobody gets hurt (Hurt)\nNow I'm running from her love, I'm not fast (Fast)\nSo I'm making it worse (Worse)\nNow I'm digging up a grave from my past (Past)\nI'm a whole different person (Person)\nIt's a gift and a curse (Curse)\nBut I cannot reverse it\n\nYou gave me the runaround\nI really hate the runaround\nYou really got me paranoid\nI always keep a gun around\nYou always give me butterflies\nWhen you come around\nWhen you come around\nWhen you come around\n\nYou let me know love is not the answer\nNot the answer, not the answer\nI love to do drugs, so mind my manners\nI get high when you don't decide to answer\nPhone home, I need to phone home\nI'm throwing rocks at your window, I need to go home\nI don't wanna leave\nI just wanna be with you\nYou, you, you\nShe told me put my heart in the bag (In the bag)\nAnd nobody gets hurt (No hurt)\nNow I'm running from her love, I'm not fast (Fast)\nSo I'm making it worse (I'm making it worse)\nNow I'm digging up a grave from my past\nI'm a whole different person (I'm a whole different person)\nIt's a gift and a curse (It's a gift and a curse)\nBut I cannot reverse it"}
{"text":"I usually don't speak on shit like this, but\nAin't nobody else saying shit\nDaytrip took it to ten (Hey)\n\nI usually have an answer to the question, but this time I'm gon' be quiet (This time)\nAin't nothing like the feeling of uncertainty, the eeriness of silence\nThis time, it was so unexpected\nLast time, it was the drugs he was lacing\nAll legends fall in the making, yeah, sorry truth, uh\nDying young, uh, demon youth\n\nWhat's the 27 Club? We ain't making it past 21\nI been going through paranoia, so I always gotta keep a gun\nDamn, that's the world we live in now\nYeah, hold on, just hear me out\nThey tell me I'ma be a legend, I don't want that title now\n'Cause all the legends seem to die out, what the fuck is this 'bout?\nI'm tryna make it out, I'm tryna change the world\nI'm tryna take her out, I'm tryna take your girl\nMore importantly, I'm tryna change the world\nMaybe flex with some diamonds and pearls, yeah\n\nI usually have an answer to the question, but this time I'm gon' be quiet (This time)\nAin't nothing like the feeling of uncertainty, the eeriness of silence\nThis time, it was so unexpected\nLast time, it was the drugs he was lacing\nAll legends fall in the making, yeah, sorry truth, uh\nDying young, uh, demon youth\nYou might also like\nMy mind is foggy, I'm so confused\nWe keep on losing our legends to\nThe cruel cold world, what is it coming to?\nThe end of the world, is it coming soon?\n\nNow, ooh, ooh, oh\nThat hit's for you\n\nI usually have an answer to the question, but this time I'm gon' be quiet (This time)\nAin't nothing like the feeling of uncertainty, the eeriness of silence\nThis time, it was so unexpected\nLast time, it was the drugs he was lacing\nAll legends fall in the making, yeah, sorry truth, uh\nDying young, uh, demon youth\n\nDaytrip took it to ten (Hey)"}
{"text":"I will\nI will\nI will\nYeah\nUh\n\nAll-white Gucci suit, I'm feeling righteous, yeah\nI know that the truth is hard to digest, yeah\nFive or six pills in my right hand, yeah\nCodeine runneth over on my nightstand\nTakin' medicine to fix all of the damage\nMy anxiety the size of a planet (Yeah, oh)\nHoles in my skull, over time\nMy heart's over ice (Woah)\n\nOver ice, I'm freezing\nBeautiful eyes, deceiving\nWe may die this evening\nCoughing, wheezing, bleeding\nHigh, I'm a anxious soul\nBlood moons in my eyes, stay low\nRed and black, they glow\nUnder attack, in my soul\nWhen it's my time, I'll know\nNever seen a hell so cold\nYeah, we'll make it out, I know\nWe'll run right through the flames, let's go\nYou might also like\nAll-white Gucci suit, I'm feeling righteous, yeah\nI know that the truth is hard to digest, yeah\nFive or six pills in my right hand, yeah\nCodeine runneth over on my nightstand\nTaking medicine to fix all of the damage\nMy anxiety the size of a planet (Yeah, oh)\nHoles in my skull, over time\nMy heart's over ice (Woah, uh)\n\nI'm in too deep\nCan't swim like me\nWe're drowning, so I will sink\nMy demons ten feets under me\nInhale, exhale, but I can't breathe\nToo busy drinking codeine doin' high speeds\nCrash, pour a four, sip it slow, make the time pass\nTake a pill for the thrill, have a relapse\nDevil in my head tryna run gym laps\nI ain't tryna race, he don't even know me like that\n\nAll-white Gucci suit, I'm feeling righteous\nI know that the truth is hard to digest\nFive or six pills in my right hand\nCodeine runneth over on my nightstand\nTaking medicine to fix all of the damage\nMy anxiety the size of a planet (Yeah, oh)\nHoles in my skull, over time\nMy heart's over ice (Woah)\nI will sink"}
{"text":"Drugs got me sweatin', but the room gettin' colder\nLookin' at the devil and the angel on my shoulder\nWill I die tonight? I don't know, is it over?\nLookin' for my next high, I'm lookin' for closure\n\nLean with me, pop with me\nGet high with me if you rock with me\nSmoke with me, drink with me\nFucked up liver with some bad kidneys\nLean with me, pop with me\nGet high with me if you rock with me\nSmoke with me, drink with me\nFucked up liver with some bad kidneys\n\nTold her if I die, I'ma die young\nEvery day I've been gettin' fucked up\nFinally know the difference between love and drugs\nShawty tell me I should really sober up\nThis shit ain't fiction, it's too real, too real\nFuck one dose, I need two pills, two pills\nI'm lookin' for trouble so I know I'm gonna find it\nRing, ring, plug hit my phone, perfect timin'\nI know I'm not right\nBut I'm not wrong, no, I'm not wrong\nGirl, you hate it when I'm too high\nBut that's where I belong, where I belong\nYou might also like\nLean with me, pop with me\nGet high with me if you rock with me\nSmoke with me, drink with me\nFucked up liver with some bad kidneys\nLean with me, pop with me\nGet high with me if you rock with me\nSmoke with me, drink with me\nFucked up liver with some bad kidneys\n\nEyes red, no Visine\nCrashed the Mustang, no Saleen\nYeah, I love beans, yeah, I love lean\nI laugh when they ask if my piss clean\nHuh, smoke with me, huh, pop with me, huh\nAyy, Gucci store, come and shop with me\nIf I overdose, bae, are you gon' drop with me?\nI don't even wanna think about that right now\nLet's get too high, reach a new height\nTake the shrooms and the pills at the same time\nWent to Hollywood thrills from the street life\nTook too many drugs, now I don't feel right\n\nLean with me, pop with me\nGet high with me if you rock with me\nSmoke with me, drink with me\nFucked up liver with some bad kidneys\nLean with me, pop with me\nGet high with me if you rock with me\nSmoke with me, drink with me\nFucked up liver with some bad kidneys (Bad kidneys)\nOh-oh\nOh-oh-oh\nOh-oh-oh"}
{"text":"Yeah, no, no, no, no, no, uh\nWhat the fuck? Uh, Perc'\nCB on the beat, ho\nPerc', mmm, mmm\nBitch, huh, huh\n\nWasted, GTA love, bitches wasted\nWasted, I'm on these drugs, I feel wasted\nWasted, get her off my mind when I'm wasted\nWasted, I waste all my time when I'm wasted\nWasted, GTA love, bitches wasted\nWasted, I'm on these drugs, I feel wasted\nWasted, get her off my mind when I'm wasted\nWasted, I waste all my time when I'm wasted, wasted\n\nShe do cocaine in my basement\nI'm a doctor, but I'm runnin' out of patience\nShe told me that she tryna get closer to Satan\nShe be talkin' to him when she in the matrix\n\nDamn, why is she so demonic?\nShe Medusa with a little Pocahontas\nShe been lacin' all my drugs or somethin'\n'Cause every time that we're together, I'm unconscious\nHold up, uh, let me be honest\nI know I saw her put the Percs in my chronic\nSmoke until my eyes roll back like The Omen\nJust another funeral for her, goddamn (Huh)\nYou might also like\nWasted, GTA love, bitches wasted\nWasted, I'm on these drugs, I feel wasted\nWasted, get her off my mind when I'm wasted\nWasted, I waste all my time when I'm wasted\nWasted, GTA love, bitches wasted\nWasted, I'm on these drugs, I feel wasted\nWasted, get her off my mind when I'm wasted\nWasted, I waste all my time when I'm wasted, wasted\n\nShe do cocaine in my basement\nI'm a doctor, but I'm runnin' out of patience\nShe told me that she tryna get closer to Satan\nShe be talkin' to him when she in the matrix\n\nRockstar, that's our style, these boys can't take it (Yeah)\nHatin', but they're still tryna take our cadence (Woah)\nNo basic, brand new 'Rari when I'm racin' (Yeah)\nTake it, let you roll my weed, please don't lace it, yeah (Yeah)\nThat's a bum bitch that you chasin', ayy (Yeah)\nForeign with me, she a dominatrix (Woah)\nI love that girl and I do like her body\n\"I don't want the money, I just want the molly\"\nThat's what she say when she lived in the Valley\nLil' boy, I'm your father, hakuna matata\nI made that girl give all of that top up\nGot drugs in my hair, used the Perc' for the lock up\nI hit from the back and my legs start to lock up\nJacuzzi that booty, I gave that girl flakka\nI'm takin' blue caps that keep tweakin' my chakra\nRose on my chain, there's no hint like no copper\nTats in the middle my head like I'm Avatar\nThat's the reason that I ride on my Appas\nWasted, GTA love, bitches wasted\nWasted, I'm on these drugs, I feel wasted\nWasted, get her off my mind when I'm wasted\nWasted, I waste all my time when I'm wasted (Yeah)\nWasted, GTA love, bitches wasted\nWasted, I'm on these drugs, I feel wasted\nWasted, get her off my mind when I'm wasted\nWasted, I waste all my time when I'm wasted, wasted\n\nShe do cocaine in my basement (In my basement)\nI'm a doctor, but I'm runnin' out of patience (Out of patience)\nShe told me that she tryna get closer to Satan (Satan)\nShe be talkin' to him when she in the matrix (Yeah)\n\nMy eyes closed, hopin' this ain't make-believe (Woah)\nAnd she don't know that all her demons live in me, yeah (Woah)\nI don't know, I don't know\nDon't know what she been on (Don't know), I don't know\nAll that lean I sip on (Oh), now watch me pour it\nOne cup on me, don't got no friends (No friends)\nI'm an open door, I ain't have to let her in (Let her in)\nShe ain't take my heart, but she took my medicine (My heart), uh\nLeast somebody gon' take it, hate to waste it (Huh)\nWasted, GTA love, bitches wasted\nWasted, I'm on these drugs, I feel wasted\nWasted, get her off my mind when I'm wasted\nWasted, I waste all my time when I'm wasted (Yeah)\nWasted, GTA love, bitches wasted\nWasted, I'm on these drugs, I feel wasted\nWasted, get her off my mind when I'm wasted\nWasted, I waste all my time when I'm wasted, wasted\n\nWasted, wasted, wasted"}
{"text":"From the unknown\nI ran away, I don't think I'm coming back home\nWhoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa\nLike a crawlspace, it's a dark place I roam\nAin't no right way, just the wrong way I know\nI problem-solve with Styrofoam\nMy world revolves around a black hole\nThe same black hole that's in place of my soul, uh\nEmpty, I feel so goddamn empty\nI may go rogue\nDon't tempt me, big bullet holes\nTote semi-autos\n\nHuh, yeah\nI'm keepin' it real, real\nI'm keepin' it real, uh, yeah\nLife gets tough, shit is getting real (Yeah)\nI don't know how to feel\nSwallowing all these pills\nNumb my real feels, uh\nDevil standing here\nTryna' make a deal, uh\nIt ain't no deals\nFeel like I'm going crazy but still took a lot to get me here\nLosing my sanity up in a house in the hills, hills, hills\nI ain't have anything then and I still don't have anything still, still, still, uh\nBein' me, I rock, PnB\nThese hoes actin' like gossip, TMZ\nThese drugs acting like\nMosh pits squishing me\nOh my, oh me, how they kill me slowly\nLonely, I been gettin' no peace\nOD, feel like overdosing\nLow key I been looking for the signs\nBut all I can find is a sign of the times\nYou might also like\nFrom the unknown\nI ran away, I don't think I'm coming back home\nWhoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa\nLike a crawlspace, it's a dark place I roam\nAin't no right way, just the wrong way I know\nI problem-solve with Styrofoam\nMy world revolves around a black hole\nThe same black hole that's in place of my soul, uh\nEmpty, I feel so goddamn empty\nI may go rogue\nDon't tempt me, big bullet holes\nTote semi-autos\n\nI ain't suicidal\nOnly thing suicide is suicide doors\nFight for survival\nGotta keep hope up, rolling good dope up (Uh)\nHold my hand, through hell we go\nDon't look back, it ain't the past no more\nGonna get to the racks, all them niggas want war\nYeah, I was put here to lead the lost souls\nExhale depression as the wind blows\nThese are the laws of livin' in vogue\nWe're perfectly imperfect children\nRose from the dust, all of us are on a mission\nNever gave a fuck, really came from rags to riches\nNow we live it up, driving with the rooftop missin'\nI don't give a fuck, really came from rags to riches\nNow I live it up, driving with the rooftop missin'\nFrom the unknown\nI ran away, I don't think I'm coming back home\nWhoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa\nLike a crawlspace, it's a dark place I roam\nAin't no right way, just the wrong way I know\nI problem-solve with Styrofoam\nMy world revolves around a black hole\nThe same black hole that's in place of my soul, uh\nEmpty, I feel so goddamn empty\nI may go rogue\nDon't tempt me, big bullet holes\nTote semi-autos"}
{"text":"Gun 'em down (Gun 'em down, bih, yeah)\nWith a .50 (With a .50, brr, bih', brr)\nGun 'em down (Gun 'em down, uh)\nOh my God, huh (Oh my God, uh)\nYa dig? (Ya dig? Uh, hoo)\n\nWhen I'm in town (Yeah, uh)\nParty's goin' down (You dig? It's goin' down, hoo)\nShoot 'em down (Baow)\nWith a .50 round (You dig? A .50 round, hoo, ayy)\nRun the town (What?)\nBallin' hard, you outta bounds (You dig? Swish, ayy)\nSo much money, damn it, I forgot the count\n(Cash, cash, cash, you dig? Hoo)\n\nAyy, look at my bank account (You dig? Hoo)\nLook at the cash amount (Hoo, ooh, you dig?)\nI get the cash, I'm out (You dig? Yeah, hoo)\nI do the dash, I'm out (You dig? Yeah, hoo, ooh)\nLook at my bank account (You dig? Ooh)\nLook at the cash amount (You dig? Skrrt, uh)\nI get the cash, I'm out (Look, uh)\nI just be cashin' out (You dig? Skrr)\nYou might also like\nWalk in that bitch and I'm faded, uh, I fuck that bitch when I'm faded\nI got the M&M's (Millions), I called my mom, told her I made it\nYeah, mama, your son too famous (Yeah), he on everybody playlist\nBut he's still armed and dangerous, he'll pop at a stranger\n\nSippin' lean, clich\u00e9, I still do it anyway\nRed or purple in a cup, which one shall I pick today? Ayy, ayy\nSippin' hard, gun on me, no need for bodyguard\n\nAim at your body parts, yeah, take off your body parts, yeah\nI'm swingin' when I'm off the ecstasy (Uh), that's a Molly park, yeah\nIron on me, hoo-hoo, that's a Tony Stark, yeah\nPourin' fours in a twenty ounce soda pop, yeah\nI'm O.C, three-gram Wood full of OG (Huh)\nGive BM dick like Moby (Uh), gun make him flash, Adobe (Uh)\nPay up that cash, you owe me, yeah, huh, bitch, I need it\nMatter fact, fuck that shit, I'm rich, uh, you can keep it\n\nYeah (Bitch, woo, yeah), damn\nRich niggas over here (They over, huh, here), yeah\nBroke niggas over there (They over, uh, there, hoo)\nWhy is you over here? (Why?)\nGo over there (Go over, uh, go over, hoo)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Go over there)\nWhen I'm in town (Yeah, uh)\nParty's goin' down (You dig? It's goin' down, hoo)\nShoot 'em down (Baow)\nWith a .50 round (You dig? A .50 round, hoo, ayy)\nRun the town (What?)\nBallin' hard, you out of bounds (You dig? Swish, ayy)\nSo much money, damn it\nI forgot the count (Cash, cash, cash, you dig? Hoo)\n\nAyy, look at my bank account (You dig? Hoo)\nLook at the cash amount (Hoo, ooh, you dig?)\nI get the cash, I'm out (Yeah, hoo)\nI do the dash, I'm out (You dig? Yeah, hoo, ooh)\nLook at my bank account (You dig? Ooh)\nLook at the cash amount (You dig? Skrrt, uh)\nI get the cash, I'm out (Look, uh)\nI just be cashin' out (You dig? Skrr)"}
{"text":"Ah\nDamn, I tried to stop, oh\nBaby (808 Mafia), baby (Baby), baby (Baby), babe\nYou literally are\u2005my\u2005everything (Baby, Gezin)\nHah\u2005(Baby)\n\nBaby, I been on the run\u2005(Yeah)\nBut I would never run from your love (Yeah, uh-uh)\nIf you feel on my dick, there's a gun (Yeah, uh-huh)\nNot right there, just a little above\nI value my relationship, it's forever\nBut I've been cheatin' on the drugs (Yeah)\nBroke up with codeine, need a new plug (Yeah)\nHit up Hot Rod, pints, I need two of 'em (Yeah, uh-huh)\nHuh, (Drinkin') lean, huh (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nPut Biscotti in my lungs, I'm smokin' green\nChopper on me, I don't talk, I just up the beam (Ba-ba-bow)\nHuh, let my gun bust a nut, then leave (Yeah)\nI ain't leave a clue on the scene (Uh-uh)\nClose range, so I got blood on my jeans (Uh)\n\nSaints Row cup, ain't no red in my lean (Uh-uh)\nBankrolled up, I been swimmin' in green (Uh-huh)\nStill the blue face king (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nBenjamin Franklin come dirty and clean (Let's go)\nI know my haters hate to see me succeed\nIf they get the chance, they'll end up murderin' me (Uh-huh)\nThat shit got me laughin', haha\nKel-Tec get to rappin', grrah, grrah (Bow)\nFuck nigga, I'm your father\nDon't matter if you older\nThey say age is just a number\nIf that's the case, I'm way older\nThan who? These niggas (Uh-huh)\nAnd these bitches that think that they get it (Uh-huh)\nFor a backstage pass, she'll suck the dick (Uh-huh)\nBitch, I got a bitch, better get you a ticket (Uh-huh)\nWalk through the night with my gun like a creep\nOn my shirt Maison Martin, my shoes double-C\nI don't know what it's gonna take you to believe\nI ain't goin' nowhere, I ain't gon' leave you (Ayy, ayy, ayy)\nI ain't goin' nowhere, I ain't gon' leave you\nYou stuck with me, apologies for my fuckery\nYou might also like\nBaby, I been on the run\nBut I would never run from your love\nIf you feel on my dick, there's a gun\nNot right there, just a little above\nI value my relationship, it's forever\nBut I've been cheatin' on the drugs (Yeah)\nBroke up with codeine, need a new plug (Yeah)\nHit up Hot Rod, pints, I need two of 'em (Yeah)\nHuh, (Drinkin') lean, huh\nPut Biscotti in my lungs, I'm smokin' green, huh\nChopper on me, I don't talk, I just up the beam\nHuh, let my gun bust a nut, then leave (Yeah)\nI ain't leave a clue on the scene\nClose range, so I got blood on my jeans"}
{"text":"Na-na-na-na-na-na-na, oh, oh\n\nSmoke cigarettes, cancer in the chest like cardiac arrest\nI've been feelin' stressed tryna find ways to impress her\nShowin' her that I love her, tryna show her a effort\nGotta keep it together, 'er\n\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nShe picks my heart off of the floor, 'or\nI'm addicted, yeah, I need me some more, 'ore\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nShe picks my heart off of the floor, 'or\nI'm addicted, yeah, I need me some more, 'ore\n\nOh, oh, this a love letter that I wrote\nShe keep me up when I'm feelin' low\nShe's my overdose, 'dose, 'dose\nBeing heartbroken is so last year\nHavin' breakdowns and she wipin' my tears\nI've been feelin' fine ever since she been mine\nIn other words, yeah, she changed my life\nOpen up like a book, let her read me\nOne call away if she ever needs me\nIf I ever fall apart, I know she gon' keep me together\nTreat me like a promise, baby, keep me forever\nYou might also like\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI'ma meet you back at the chorus\nP.S., babygirl, you're so gorgeous\n\nSmoke cigarettes, cancer in the chest like cardiac arrest\nI've been feelin' stressed tryna find ways to impress her\nShowin' her that I love her, tryna show her a effort\nGotta keep it together, 'er\n\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nShe picks my heart off of the floor, 'or\nI'm addicted, yeah, I need me some more, 'ore\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nShe picks my heart off of the floor, 'or\nI'm addicted, yeah, I need me some more, 'ore\n\nAs I find my way to the bottom of this bottle\nShe's in my head, please don't get me started\nI could talk about her all-day\nShe's on my mind always\nAs I find my way to the bottom of this bottle\nShe's in my head, please don't get me started\nThinkin' 'bout her all-day\nShe's on my mind always\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI'ma meet you back at the chorus\nP.S., babygirl, you're so gorgeous\n\nSmoke cigarettes, cancer in the chest like cardiac arrest\nI've been feelin' stressed tryna find ways to impress her\nShowin' her that I love her, tryna show her a effort\nGotta keep it together, 'er\n\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nShe picks my heart off of the floor, 'or\nI'm addicted, yeah, I need me some more, 'ore\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nShe picks my heart off of the floor, 'or\nI'm addicted, yeah, I need me some more, 'or\n\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh\nI don't wan' be lonely no more, oh"}
{"text":"Oh my God, Ronny\n\nThe devil hit my phone, he wanna talk\nBut I'm not really up\u2005for\u2005conversations\nI can have\u2005my cake and eat it, too\nI\u2005just gotta make a reservation\nChillin' in my head, but it's hot\nFlames everywhere, I see Satan\nDemons tryna run up in my spot a lot\nReally, really runnin' out of patience\n\nT\u2014 Timing, timing, timing\nAll about timing, timing, timing\nSit back in my chair, relaxing and reclining\nHe has not a care in the world, no, I'm lying\nTakin' all these meds to the face got me flying\nTakin' all these meds to the face got me dying\nSmoke 'til my mind frying, eyes red, high and crying\nNumb the pain with Oxy and Dior, yeah, pricey\nJuice like 2Pac Shakur, no ice tea\nGivenchy, Louis V, Double V, icy\nWedding ring, better things, better half, wifey\nOnly things numbing me from this hard life thing, uh, alright\nYou might also like\nThe devil hit my phone, he wanna talk\nBut I'm not really up for conversations\nI can have my cake and eat it, too\nI just gotta make a reservation\nChillin' in my head, but it's hot\nFlames everywhere, I see Satan\nDemons tryna run up in my spot a lot\nReally, really runnin' out of patience\n\nI'm waiting, waiting, waiting, sittin' up\nWaiting, waiting, waiting, contemplating\nMy heart racing\nFeels like I'ma die every second of the day\nSo I gotta get high\nAin't no coming down, ain't no coming down, why?\nMy anxiety bring me down, that's the fucking downside\nIt's like every time I ball, I just end up off-sides\nThis light of mine goes dim tonight\nWill I be alright?\nLet me guess, no answer, right?\n\nThe devil hit my phone, he wanna talk\nBut I'm not really up for conversations\nI can have my cake and eat it, too\nI just gotta make a reservation\nChillin' in my head, but it's hot\nFlames everywhere, I see Satan\nDemons tryna run up in my spot a lot\nReally, really runnin' out of patience"}
{"text":"Enviyon on the mix\n\nLet me know, let me know, let me know\nLet me know what's up with you, ooh (What's up with you?)\nLet me know, let me know\nLet me know, let me know if you comfortable, ooh (If you're comfortable)\nLet me know, let me know\nLet me know, let me know what's up with you, ooh (What's up with you?)\nLet me know, let me know\nLet me know, let me know if you comfortable, ooh (If you're comfortable)\n\nI found your vibe (Vibe), and I, and I found my high (My high), yeah\nLet's touch the sky (Sky), I'ma, I'ma change your life, yeah\nDo you realize I love the way you look me in my eyes? Yeah\nDon't kill my vibe (Vibe), nigga, don't kill my vibe, yeah\nOn top of my game, nigga, we aren't the same, ayy (Ayy)\nI wonder why lame niggas think that they run things? (Things)\nI wonder why? (Why?) I, I wonder why? Yeah\nJust feel the vibes (Vibes), just, just feel the vibes, yeah\n\nLet me know, let me know, let me know\nLet me know what's up with you, ooh (What's up with you?)\nLet me know, let me know\nLet me know, let me know if you comfortable, ooh (If you're comfortable)\nLet me know, let me know\nLet me know, let me know what's up with you, ooh (What's up with you?)\nLet me know, let me know\nLet me know, let me know if you comfortable, ooh (If you're comfortable)\nYou might also like\nNow when you left, left, it wasn't right, yeah\nI took a left, swerve, then I took a right, yeah\nI was feeling right, yeah, see it in the night air\nThey talking dumb, well, frankly, I don't care\nYou realize I'm the man and I'm in my prime, yeah\nAnd it's my time, I swear to God I won't waste no time, yeah\nYou ain't worth a dime, no, you ain't worth a dime, yeah\nStill on my mind, woah, you're still on my mind, yeah\n\nLet me know, let me know, let me know\nLet me know what's up with you, ooh (What's up with you?)\nLet me know, let me know\nLet me know, let me know if you comfortable, ooh (If you're comfortable)\nLet me know, let me know\nLet me know, let me know what's up with you, ooh (What's up with you?)\nLet me know, let me know\nLet me know, let me know if you comfortable, ooh (If you're comfortable)\n\nI wonder why, I, I wonder why, yeah\nJust feel the vibes, just, just feel the vibes (Vibes)\nI wonder why, I, I wonder why, yeah\nJust feel the vibes, just, just feel the vibes (Vibes)\nI wonder why, I, I wonder why, yeah\nJust feel the vibes, just, just feel the vibes (Vibes)\nJust feel the vibes, just, just feel the vibes (Vibes)"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1ol\u200bmoonlight Lyrics\nYeah, mhm-mm\nMhm\nEnviyon on the mix\nYeah\n\nGirl, you know I'm far from perfect, I won't lead you on\nBut tonight is feelin' perfect, this your favorite song\nI know that mood right\nI know that mood right, oh\nDance in the moonlight\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh, oh, oh, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\n\nDon't know when I met you, but I met you\nDon't know why I love you, but I love you, oh\nIt's something 'bout that dress, the way it fits you\nI don't even wanna tell you to take it off, but baby, take it off\nWe in this party on molly, no time for monologue\nShe say I'm Kevin Hart funny, so she gon' ride along\nShe say she came in with endurance, so she gon' do me all night long (Take it off)\nWe could dance in the moonlight, oh\nShe got a man, I told him, \"Come to the moonlight brawl\"\nDon't stand a chance, don't stand a chance in the moonlight, oh\nWe throw them hands, we throw them hands in the moonlight, oh\nYou might also like\nI'm in love with the moonlight, ah\nMake love in the moonlight, oh\nI've been myself since birth, nigga\nAin't nothin' like y'all\nI'm in love with the moonlight\nMake love in the moonlight, oh\nI've been myself since birth, nigga\nAin't nothin' like y'all, y\u2019all, y'all\n\nGirl, you know I'm far from perfect, I won't lead you on\nBut tonight is feelin' perfect, this your favorite song\nI know that mood right\nI know that mood right, oh\nDance in the moonlight (I'm cuttin' too deep, I'm feelin' like a surgeon)\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh, oh, oh, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\n\nGirl, you know I'm far from perfect, but I'm really worth it\nShe say that I'm pretty, I'm prettier in person\nI'm drivin' her crazy, you know I'm really swervin'\nI'm cuttin' too deep, I'm feelin' like a surgeon\nGirl, you know I'm far from perfect, I won't lead you on\nBut tonight is feelin' perfect, this your favorite song\nI know that mood right\nI know that mood right, oh\nDance in the moonlight\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh\nDance in the moonlight, oh, oh, oh, oh (Like a surgeon)\nDance in the moonlight, oh\n\nChance, don't stand a chance\nIn the moonlight, no\nWe throw them hands, we throw them hands\nIn the moonlight, no, oh"}
{"text":"Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes\nSometimes, sometimes, sometimes\nSometimes, sometimes, sometimes, uh\n\nI wanna be by my lonely\nI pop these Perc' by my lonely\nI put in work by my lonely\n.40 on me, you know it\u2019s my homie\nI wanna be by my lonely\nI take these Perc' by my lonely\nI put in work by my lonely\n.40 on me, you know that's my homie\n\nMy mind sometimes gets dark and wild\nMy mind sometimes\nI don\u2019t wan' be bothered\nInhale, exhale, breathin' just got a lil' harder\nI mean well, I mean well\nAll's well, it ends well\nInhale, exhale\nLosin' my sanity, prolly\nI'll see you in hell\nYeah, I'ma meet you there\nAs of lately, my demons, they bother me\nWhen I\u2019m sleepin\u2019, they sittin' on top of me\nAnd wherever I go, they\u2019ll follow me\nI fell into the pit and it's bottomless\nThey want my soul but it isn't my property\nTry to take it from me, demonic robbery\nCrazy the way that the devil'll lie to me\nJust leave me alone, I could do bad on my own\nI get high off my ass on my own\nParanoia is strong\nWhat if she don\u2019t love me no more?\nI hope I'm wrong\nYou might also like\nSometimes, sometimes, sometimes\nSometimes, sometimes, sometimes\nSometimes, sometimes, sometimes\n\nI wanna be by my lonely\nI pop these Perc' by my lonely\nI put in work by my lonely\n.40 on me, you know it's my homie, uh\nI wanna be by my lonely, uh\nI take these Perc' by my lonely, uh\nI put in work by my lonely\n.40 on me, you know that's my homie\n\nOh-oh-oh, there ain't no place like home\nI wanna go back home\nI hate the world we know\nThere ain't no place like home\nI wanna go back home\nI hate the world we know\n\nMind fumblin', fumblin', fumblin', fumblin'\nI wonder if, wonder if, wonder if, wonder if\nI'm gonna live, gonna live\nAll these threats that I get from my enemies\nWonder why I keep a .40 right next to me\nScared of niggas runnin' in my vicinity\nI'ma be the killer, ain't no one killin' me\nThat's a better choice like votin' for Hillary\nWhere I'm from, niggas don't give a fuck\nSo we loadin' up and shootin' like documentary\nNumb to the core\nI don't wanna feel shit anymore\nI don't wanna feel rich anymore\nKnow that they want me dead\nSo I'm takin' meds until I fall on the floor\nI don't know who to call anymore\nI don't know what to call it anymore\nTears fall like raindrops, but nah, I don't wanna ball anymore\nPick up the rock, score\nI pill pop some more\nWhy? It numbs me inside\nI know it ain't right, but it's part of the ride\nThere ain't no place like home\nI wanna go back home\nI hate the world we know\nThere ain't no place like home\nI wanna go back home\nI hate the world we know"}
{"text":"(Play it one more time)\n\nI been living fast, fast, fast, fast\nFeeling really bad, bad, bad, bad\nTime really moves fast, fast, fast, fast\nBetter hurry up and get in your bag, bag, bag, bag\nI wear Dior, not a fan, fan, fan, fan\nI know all these niggas gettin' mad, mad, mad, mad\nMy hand on my trigger, I\u2019ma die with respect, yeah\nFucking with my money, you get gone like that, yeah\n\nI took too many pills, countin' up the bills, uh\nMolly in my cup, I can't tell you how I feel, uh\nOh, last call\nOh-oh, it\u2019s gnarly\nEvery day I be counting up, counting up the blues\nGotta win sometimes when you always lose\nI get high as a bitch, still the same dude\nI was back then, but now I'm lost and confused\n\nI ain't see it comin'\nI ain't see it comin'\nBut it still came\nI'm talkin' \u2019bout life, ayy (Talkin\u2019 'bout life, ayy)\nYou might also like\nI been living fast, fast, fast, fast\nFeeling really bad, bad, bad, bad\nTime really moves fast, fast, fast, fast\nBetter hurry up and get in your bag, bag, bag, bag\nI wear Dior, not a fan, fan, fan, fan\nI know all these niggas gettin\u2019 mad, mad, mad, mad\nMy hand on my trigger, I'ma die with respect, yeah\nFucking with my money, you get gone like that, yeah\n\nI go through so much, I'm 19 years old\nIt's been months since I felt at home\nBut it\u2019s okay 'cause I'm rich, sike\nI'm still sad as a bitch, right\nI don't want nobody to think that I'm a asshole\nI don't try to be mean on purpose, I promise\nMy mama taught me better than that, I'll be honest\nI'll blame it on the drugs and this life I'm involved in\n\nI ain't see it comin' (I ain't see it)\nI ain't see it comin' (I ain't see it)\nBut it still came (Yeah, yeah, it still came)\nI'm talkin' 'bout life, ayy (Talkin' 'bout life)\nI been living fast, fast, fast, fast\nFeeling really bad, bad, bad, bad\nTime really moves fast, fast, fast, fast\nBetter hurry up and get in your bag, bag, bag, bag\nI wear Dior, not a fan, fan, fan, fan\nI know all these niggas gettin' mad, mad, mad, mad\nMy hand on my trigger, I'ma die with respect, yeah\nFucking with my money, you get gone like that, yeah\n\nElevate, elevate, elevate myself\nNow I'm on the ground, on the ground, haven't been myself\nBut it's okay, it's cool, won't push the issue\nWhat happens next? A story to be continued, yeah\n\nI been living fast, fast, fast, fast\nFeeling really bad, bad, bad, bad\nTime really moves fast, fast, fast, fast\nBetter hurry up and get in your bag, bag, bag, bag\nI wear Dior, not a fan, fan, fan, fan\nI know all these niggas gettin' mad, mad, mad, mad\nMy hand on my trigger, I'ma die with respect, yeah\nFucking with my money, you get gone like that, yeah\nThis is fire, hahaha, yeah\nThis is fire"}
{"text":"(If young Metro don't trust you\u2014 trust you)\n\nI can't take one Percocet, start tonight off,\u2005I\u2005just took a\u200560\nBurberry on me, shoot you in\u2005your back, you just got Pretty Ricky\nI tie the Chanel runners, then I get back to running the city\nAnd I know that it's hell coming, I ain't worried, my niggas, they with me\nGotta put the narcotics down, I can feel 'em fucking up my kidney\nAnd punching my liver\nIf I let it kill me, my mama'll never forgive me\nAin't numbing my feelings, if I let it kill 'em, my baby will never forgive me\nThis remind me of hell, sometimes I wonder if that's where God really sent me\n\nHands up in the fire, burn, burn, burn, burn\nHands up in the fire, burn, burn, burn, burn\nI pray to God for some water to wash down these Percs\nI been cursed since birth, guess I never learn\nHands up in the fire, burn, burn, burn, burn\nHands up in the fire, burn, burn, burn, burn\nI pray to God for some water to wash down these Percs\nI been cursed since birth, guess I never learn\n\nThe truth hurts, let it bleed out, if they hurt you, let 'em leave\nMy heart hurtin', let me bleed out, only way I'll find peace\nI'm tryna get set free, but these chains on me\nChoke me, I can't breathe, what's reality?\nUh, detached from myself\nUh-huh, numb the pain with my wealth\nUh, a bag from Chanel match the double C on my belt, uh\nBands in my pants, I barely be holdin' my pants up\nBut the money ain't the answer\nI'm just tryna reach some new highs\nMix this with that, bet it feel nice\nCodeine, only sip if I got ice\nLook my girl in her eyes, tell her I won't die\nI fell asleep too deep that one time\nWoke up to your cry, girl, I'm fine\nBut I lied\nHad a dream, I wasn't gon' wake up this time\nYou might also like\nHands up in the fire, burn, burn, burn, burn\nHands up in the fire, burn, burn, burn, burn\nI pray to God for some water to wash down these Percs\nI been cursed since birth, guess I never learn\nHands up in the fire, burn, burn, burn, burn\nHands up in the fire, burn, burn, burn, burn\nI pray to God for some water to wash down these Percs\nI been cursed since birth, guess I never learn"}
{"text":"Daytrip took it to ten (Hey!)\nFine, fine\n\nSay they wanna read my mind\nThey really wanna read my mind\nTelling you right now, all you'll find\nIs a lost soul, rich and blind\nThey say they wanna read my mind\nDo you really wanna read my mind?\nI promise, all that you will find\nIs a lost soul, rich and blind\n\nI know I have a purpose, but I don't see the purpose\nThey tell me the death of me gon' be the Perkys\nI know they laced pills, I bought them on purpose\nLife's unreal when death's uncertain\nIt's funny how the blessed ones had the most curses\nHeart falling to the floor if we lose another person\nTake three more, I swear it's worth it\nBut it ain't no world tour if I'm laying in a hearse\nI remember losing lil' bro, he laying in the dirt\nNow I'm bound to drop a tear or two on every single verse\nGood terms, bad terms, when they die, it's the worst\nSometimes when I'm high, I feel high in reverse\nI ain't going out like that, you fuck with me, you get the work\nYou ain't gon' see me in no wooden box, I'm gonna shoot 'em first\nI promise y'all I'm finna touch the world, yeah, I'ma touch the Earth\nBut hold on, your girl on my line, I think I may just fuck her first\nYeah, gotta have some crude humor\nJust to keep a good vibe going, keep the song grooving\nSo all my money longer, shout out bro Uzi\nKeep my eyes in the sky 'cause that's where I'm moving\nYou might also like\nSay they wanna read my mind\nThey really wanna read my mind\nTelling you right now, all you'll find\nIs a lost soul, rich and blind\nThey say they wanna read my mind\nDo you really wanna read my mind?\nI promise, all that you will find\nIs a lost soul, rich and blind (Blind)\n\nIs a lost soul, rich and blind\nBlind, blind, blind\n\nThis is dedicated to you if you felt the lowest of the low\nI know how it feels, you don't wanna struggle anymore\nUsed to ball hard, ain't no triple-doubles anymore\nBitch, I'm talking 'bout my tears\nTurned around and faced my fears\nI haven't felt this low in years\nWe die in three like musketeers\nAin't too many real niggas left in here\nR.I.P. to all my peers\nSmoking loud pack, what you say? I can't hear\nBut I still hear the fallen ones in my ears\nWhy, why do we live to die, die?\nWhen it's my time, time, time\nI'll leave behind my end, my thirteen reasons why\nSay they wanna read my mind\nThey really wanna read my mind\nTelling you right now, all you'll find\nIs a lost soul, rich and blind\nThey say they wanna read my mind\nDo you really wanna read my mind?\nI promise, all that you will find\nIs a lost soul, rich and blind (Blind)\n\nIs a lost soul, rich and blind\nBlind, blind, blind\n\nDaytrip took it to ten (Hey!)"}
{"text":"I'm in my black Benz, uh\nDoing cocaine with my black friends, uh\nWe'll be high as hell before the night ends, yeah\nOh, we'll be high before the night ends\nBefore the night ends\nSwitch up to the white Benz (Okay)\nDoing codeine with my white friends, uh (Friends)\nWe'll be high as hell before the night ends, yeah, uh\nBefore the night ends (Woah)\nBefore the night begins (Woah)\n\nLord have mercy, uh (Hey)\nI know that these Perkys finna hurt me, ayy (Hey)\nSometimes I feel like they doing surgery, ayy, ayy (Hey)\nTell me, are they working? (Are they working?)\nAre they working? (Are they working?)\nTell me, are they working? Uh, ayy (Working)\nI party too damn much, Uh (Too much)\nAyy, and you niggas can't keep up (Huh)\nI'm getting too fucked up (Yeah)\nToo fucked up, yeah, I'm too fucked up (Yeah)\nWon't look up 'til the sun come up (Okay)\nPills with the Hennessy, I might throw up (Said, \"I might throw up\")\nI might throw up (Said, \"I might throw up\")\nI'll be okay\nYou might also like\nIn my black Benz, uh\nDoing cocaine with my black friends, uh\nWe'll be high as hell before the night ends, yeah\nOh, we'll be high before the night ends\nBefore the night ends (Ends)\nSwitch up to the white Benz, uh (Okay)\nDoing codeine with my white friends, uh (Friends)\nWe'll be high as hell before the night ends, yeah, uh\nBefore the night ends (Woah)\nBefore the night begins (Woah)\n\nEveryday's a party, don't let no one tell you different (Different)\nNo lames allowed, you should really keep your distance (Yeah)\nSmoking on loud, and that codeine, I sip (Yeah)\nPouring up this purple shit until it's in my piss (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nR.I.P. to Prince, we got purple rain on deck (Lean)\nShe love Bobby Brown so we keep the 'caine on deck (Lean)\nThere be haters 'round, keep an AK on deck (Lean)\nMan down, man down on, ooh, ooh (Yeah)\nParty animals, I'm a lion in the zoo (Yeah)\nParty animals, I'm a lion at the zoo (Yeah, yeah)\nParty animals, I'm a party animal\nI'm a party animal\nIn my black Benz, uh\nDoing cocaine with my black friends, uh\nWe'll be high as hell before the night ends, yeah\nOh, we'll be high before the night ends (Ends)\nBefore the night ends (Before the night ends, yeah)\nSwitch up to the white Benz, uh (Okay)\nDoing codeine with my white friends, uh (Friends)\nWe'll be high as hell before the night ends, yeah, uh\nBefore the night ends (Woah)\nBefore the night begins (Woah)\n\nBefore the night begins\nBefore the night begins"}
{"text":"Man, I been asleep off the lean all day, it's like fuckin' mornin'\nIt already feel\u2005like\u2005it's nine in\u2005the mornin'\n\nHate it when they play\u2005both sides\nToo low in my life\nGotta stay high, gotta stay high\nToo low in my life, yeah, I gotta stay\nHate it when they play both sides\nToo low in my life, so I gotta stay high\nYeah, I gotta stay high\nToo low in my, too low in my\nCount the racks up (Huh), I got my stacks up (Ya' dig?)\nBad lil' bitch, tell her back up (Ya' dig?)\nIn the cut with the MAC tucked\nRun up on me, get hit up\nAmbulance needs to pick him up, uh\nSix shots to the head like, woah\nRun through the six, no woes\nThrow money, throw hands, throw bows\nUp, down, left, right, A, B, cheat codes\nPull up, my gun sing like Glee show\nRick Owen on my coat, no superhero\nVVS my wrist like Sub-Zero\nPlay a bitch like guitar, no hero\nRun the money up, stack it like Legos\nBad bitch wanna fuck, I say let's go, uh\nR.I.P to my niggas gone\nSometimes I wish I could hit your phone\nI don't really wanna walk through life alone\nAin't too many real niggas here no more\nI lost my woadie, my heart cold\nNow, I gotta walk through life alone\nNow, I gotta walk through life alone\nNow, I gotta live this life alone\nYou might also like\nHate it when they play both sides\nToo low in my life\nGotta stay high, gotta stay high\nToo low in my life, yeah, I gotta stay\nHate it when they play both sides\nToo low in my life, so I gotta stay high\nYeah, I gotta stay high\nToo low in my, too low in my (Ayy, huh)\n\nWockhardt in my body, I can't help myself, uh\nI get so damn high that I can't feel myself\nMy girlfriend worried about me, think I'm gon' kill myself\nSorry, baby, I'm just really tryna feel myself\nKeep my head above the water while I drown in wealth\nI got that drip like Gunna, I may drip or drown myself\nYou know I love choppers, I had to surround myself\nTakin' Gelato to the head, smoked the pound myself\n\nHate it when they play both sides\nToo low in my life\nGotta stay high, gotta stay high\nToo low in my life, yeah, I gotta stay\nHate it when they play both sides\nToo low in my life, so I gotta stay high\nYeah, I gotta stay high\nToo low in my, too low in my"}
{"text":"You can see the pain in my laugh (Yeah, yeah)\nDemons comin' back from the past\u2005(Yeah,\u2005yeah)\nFeelin' like I'm\u2005'bout to relapse (Yeah, yeah)\nVoices in\u2005my head (Yeah, yeah)\nAll I can hear them say (Yeah, yeah)\nIs, \"Everyone wants me dead\" (Yeah, yeah)\nBitch, I'm already dead (Yeah, yeah)\nI've been dead for years\n\nI've been taking medicine again (Yeah, yeah)\nHenny, mix it with the Vicodin (Yeah, yeah)\nAll my sufferin' (Yeah)\nIs really gettin' under my skin (Yeah)\nMaybe I should try to pray again (Yeah, yeah)\nTry to wash away my sins (Yeah, yeah)\nI know that they not my friends (Yeah, yeah)\nBut I'm friends with the drugs again (Yeah)\n\nLost my heart, lost it all\nSo much drama, hold the applause\nShit's like a soap opera, straight downfalls\nNightmares on the cellphone, late-night calls\nLost my heart, lost it all\nSo much drama, hold the applause\nNo soap opera, straight downfalls\nListen to the nightmares call\nYou might also like\nYou can see the pain in my laugh (Yeah, yeah)\nDemons comin' back from the past (Yeah, yeah)\nFeelin' like I'm 'bout to relapse (Yeah, yeah)\nVoices in my head (Yeah, yeah)\nAll I can hear them say (Yeah, yeah)\nIs, \"Everyone wants me dead\" (Yeah, yeah)\nBitch, I'm already dead (Yeah, yeah)\nI've been dead for years\nYou can see the pain in my laugh (Yeah, yeah)\nDemons comin' back from the past (Yeah, yeah)\nFeelin' like I'm 'bout to relapse (Yeah, yeah)\nVoices in my head (Yeah, yeah)\nAll I can hear them say (Yeah, yeah)\nIs, \"Everyone wants me dead\" (Yeah, yeah)\nBitch, I'm already dead (Yeah, yeah)\nI've been dead for years (Yeah)\n\nHave you ever been so alone (Yeah, yeah)\nThat nobody's house feels like home? (Yeah, yeah)\nI've been runnin' out of drugs and hope (Yeah, yeah)\nI don't even got a plug no more (Yeah, yeah)\nHave you ever been so alone? (Yeah, yeah)\nThat you don't know what to feel no more? (Yeah, yeah)\nAin't no reachin' for the pills no more (Yeah, yeah)\nOne more and you're on the floor (Yeah, yeah)\nI know that I didn't stand a chance (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI don't think I'll ever live again (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI'm only here by popular demand (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nI'm stayin' alive for the fans (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nLost my heart, lost it all\nSo much drama, hold the applause\nNo soap opera, straight downfalls\nListen to the nightmares call\n\nYou can see the pain in my laugh (Yeah, yeah)\nDemons comin' back from the past (Yeah, yeah)\nFeelin' like I'm 'bout to relapse (Yeah, yeah)\nVoices in my head (Yeah, yeah)\nAll I can hear them say (Yeah, yeah)\nIs, \"Everyone wants me dead\" (Yeah, yeah)\nBitch, I'm already dead (Yeah, yeah)\nI've been dead for years (Yeah, yeah)\nYou can see the pain in my laugh (In my laugh)\nDemons comin' back from the past (From the past)\nFeelin' like I'm 'bout to relapse (Relapse)\nVoices in my head (In my head)\nAll I can hear them say (All I can hear them say)\nIs, \"Everyone wants me dead\" (Is, \"Everyone wants me dead\")\nBitch, I'm already dead (Bitch, I'm already dead)\nI've been dead for years (I've been dead for years)"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsTranslationsDeutsch\u200bautograph (on my line) Lyrics\nWhy you mad, why you mad?\nWhy you mad, why you mad?\nThat's all I wanna know\nYou're lookin' like a joke, dry humor at the most\nSteady chokin' on your shade, like a dick in your throat\nWell, if you're gonna throw shade in my way\nMaybe you should throw with a little more aim\nIt's a cold day in hell when they dirty up your name\nThey don't got no business talkin' in the first place, I'm freezin'\n(Freezin', bitch, I'm freezin')\n\nAll these fuck niggas on my line\nDamn, nigga, you must wanna die tonight\nYeah, I rock a choker with a .45\nAnd I know some niggas that are down to ride\nAll these hatin' bitches on my line\nDamn, bitch, you must wanna fuck tonight\nLet me guess, you're my biggest fan, right?\nYou wanted an autograph\nAll you had to do was ask, woah\n\nUh, but you lookin' like a asshole\nUp on Twitter and you lookin' mad, woah\nTalkin' 'bout me, but you lookin' bad, woah\nLike the ugly daughter that I never had, woah\nAnd what's up with these nigs?\nGot my name in they mouth like they swallowin' my children\nI never got why niggas hate\nIt's probably 'cause I'm doin' better than them, anyway\nIt's probably 'cause I get they bitches wetter, anyway\nIt's probably 'cause I'm livin', and they're in a lower place\nThey're walkin' in their sorrows, while I'm vibin' out in space\nCrash-land just to take they girl on a dinner date\nYou might also like\nWhen haters see me winnin' they just hyperventilate\nThey always try to stop me, but I never hesitate\nJust follow all your dreams and when you reach them, celebrate\nThat's the only way to truly make a hater suffocate\n\nAll these fuck niggas on my line\nDamn, nigga, you must wanna die tonight\nYeah, I rock a choker with a .45\nAnd I know some niggas that are down to ride\nAll these hatin' bitches on my line\nDamn, bitch, you must wanna fuck tonight\nLet me guess, you're my biggest fan, right?\nYou wanted an autograph\nAll you had to do was ask, woah\n\nWhy you mad, why you mad?\nWhy you mad, why you mad?\nThat's all I wanna know\nYou're lookin' like a joke, dry humor at the most\nSteady chokin' on your shade like a dick in your throat\nWell, if you're gonna throw shade in my way\nMaybe you should throw with a little more aim\nIt's a cold day in hell when they dirty up your name\nThey don't got no business talkin' in the first place, I'm freezin'\nBut these haters not breathin' (Uh)\nStevie Wonder to these haters, no seein' (Uh)\nAnd I don't believe it\nThey hate me, hate me for no reason\n\nThey hate me for no reason, woah\nOh-oh-oh\n\nAll these fuck niggas on my line\nDamn, nigga, you must wanna die tonight\nYeah, I rock a choker with a .45\nAnd I know some niggas that are down to ride\nAll these hatin' bitches on my line\nDamn, bitch, you must wanna fuck tonight\nLet me guess, you're my biggest fan, right?\nYou wanted an autograph\nAll you had to do was ask, woah"}
{"text":"Ring, do you hear me calling?\nPurps On The Beat\nMe no want no drama\n\nDo you hear me calling?\nDo you hear me calling?\nMe no want no drama\nNot a fighter, a lover\nDo you hear me calling?\nDo you hear me calling?\nMe no want no drama\nI just want you, my darling\n\nBreak away and make a way to make it\nLove the way you lookin' when you naked\nTreat your heart just like a blunt of OG\nRoll it up, I kissed it and I smoke it\nGots to be joking\nWhere in the fuck did you think you were going?\nFoldin' and packin' your clothes like you ain't know I was gon' unfold it\nWine glass full of your emotions\nOh, Pinot Grigio, sippin', beautiful, heaven-soul woman\nMe don't know, let me know, let me\nIn your heart, don't you dare forget me\nI'm your fan, your posters on my walls inside my head, yeah, yeah\nI'm your fan, your posters on my walls inside my head, yeah\nYou might also like\nDo you hear me calling?\nDo you hear me calling?\nMe no want no drama\nNot a fighter, a lover\nDo you hear me calling?\nDo you hear me calling?\nMe no want no drama\nI just want you, my darling\n\nYou drive me insane, no girl make me feel this way\nWait girl, you got your ways, girl you are my getaway\nWait, let me keep you safe\nIn exchange, give me brain, brain\nYou my main thing, turn around, bang bang\nHit the beach in LA like you a beach ball\nMe and you in the Lambo truck, you start it up and skrrt off\nWe park after dark at the park by the mansion, take your skirt off\nOh, me can't wait to get all up inside of it\nMy heart is racing, every time I'm tastin' it\nWait until the drugs fade out\nHate making love when I'm faded\nThat's because I wanna feel it\nGirl, you give me the best feelin'\nYes, girl you're the best, take away stress, love me to death\nEven when I'm a mess\nDo you hear me calling?\nDo you hear me calling?\nMe no want no drama\nNot a fighter, a lover\nDo you hear me calling?\nDo you hear me calling?\nMe no want no drama\nI just want you, my darling (Darling)\n\nRing, do you hear me calling?\nMe no want no drama\nRing, do you hear me calling?\nMe no want no drama"}
{"text":"Vibe on this bitch, though\nA lighter?\nNah, in the room\nOh\nUh-huh\n\nYou work numbers, work wonders\nYou done woke me up from my eternal slumber\nI'm the lightning, you\u2019re the thunder\nThere's a difference 'tween, \"I need you,\" and, \"I want you\"\nGirl, I need you\nGood sex led to conversations getting a little deeper, uh\nTell me your darkest secrets, shit you wouldn\u2019t even tell Jesus, uh\nMy karma been tweaking so much, I don't even believe in karma\nBut you give me a reason to thank God for all these recent falls\nPercocet 30, E 8, I've been gettin' off\nI done chilled out on the drugs since you've been involved\nSuck it like it's love (Uh), fuck me like it's love (Uh-huh)\nNo protection on my heart, goddamnit, I'm gon\u2019 hit it raw\nTraumatized from my past, yeah, I keep a log\nIn my mind, in my head, where that shit belong\nThey say you after my bread, shit, I hope they wrong\nYou already ran up the bands, we could have a ball\nHit it from the back, humina, call a play, huddle up\nThis that good love in the bedroom\nFuck you in the Prada, poke her face like Lady Gaga\nRide it like a Mazda, zoom, zoom, zoom\nYou might also like\nI\u2019m all, I'm really all in\nIn love with all your flaws and sins\nYour scars are really gorgeous\nAin\u2019t that a weird way to give compliments?\nI'm all, I'm really all in\nI fell in love with all your flaws and sins\nYour scars are really gorgeous\nI see your light in all the darkness\n\nWoah\n'Atta boy, I done turned to a man\nHot chills when my skin is on your skin\nHope you know that if you ever try to end\nYou gon\u2019 catch a couple out the F&N\nThat mean Cupid ain't give you a headshot\nSo I ain't got no choice but to leave you with a headshot\nLook at the way I make that fucking bed rock, uh\nWhere your ring finger at? I need wedlock\nGot my sights on your ass, ooh, red dot\nWe some bats that made it out of Hell, ooh, red hot\nDon't, ayy, go all night, bitch, don't stop\nWe ain't even gon' be finished 'til the sun's up\n\nI'm all, I'm really all in\nIn love with all your flaws and sins\nYour scars are really gorgeous\nAin't that a weird way of giving compliments?\nI'm all, I'm really all in\nIn love with all your flaws and sins\nYour scars are really gorgeous\nThat's my way of giving compliments\nI'm all, I'm really all in\nIn love with all your flaws and sins\nYour scars are really gorgeous\nAin't that a weird way to give compliments?\nI'm all, I'm really all in\nI fell in love with all your flaws and sins\nYour scars are really gorgeous\nI see light in all the darkness"}
{"text":"Cheers (Oh-oh, oh-oh)\nSippin' codeine like it's beer (Oh-oh, oh-oh)\nI'm in London, so I'm screaming, \"Cheers\" (Oh-oh, oh-oh)\n(Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)\n\nMan of the year, still got problems\nLookin' in the mirror, you look awful\nTalkin' to myself, do it too often\nJK, Juice WRLD, you're so awesome\nUm, I'm running up funds\nBottle full of pills, let's have fun\nNo cheap thrills, only rich ones\nFire drills, hotter than the sun\n\nMy ups and downs\nI'll jot them down\nIn London town\nCheers to the golden years\n\nLet's raise our hands, let's sing and dance\nI know I'm here to save you, I know I'm here to save you\nLet's raise our hands and sing and dance\nI know my lyrics saved you, I know I helped your breakthrough\nYou might also like\nThey say life's a puzzle, well, I'ma piece it together\nBut from the way I'm movin', I'll probably be piecing forever\nI date a bad bitch, she'll be over decent forever\nEven with fake tits, these other hoes just decent forever\nMy lady said she saw a baddie in the hotel lobby\nWell, love, let's fuck her together\nWe got the world to our backs, give a fuck, never have\nMiddle fingers up, we're screamin' \"fuck 'em\" forever\n\nMy ups and downs\nI'll jot them down\nIn London town\nCheers to the golden years\nMy ups and downs\nI'll jot them down\nIn London town\nCheers to the golden years\n\nLet's raise our hands, let's sing and dance\nI know I'm here to save you, I know I'm here to save you\nLet's raise our hands and sing and dance\nI know my lyrics saved you, I know I helped your breakthrough"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsRUN Lyrics\nFather forgive me, for you know that I'm always sinning\nAnd I (And I), and I (And I), mhm (Mhm), mhm\nI take no interest partying with liquor, fucking up my system\nExcuse my language that's a hang up on how shitty I been feeling\nAnd I (And I) told (Told), uh\nI'm sorry I feel no attraction, I know that it's been a minute\nAnd I, and I, and I, and I, survived the night\nFather forgive me, for you know that I'm always sinning\nI take no interest partying with liquor, fucking up my system\nWhy'd you lie?\nExcuse my language that's a hang up on how shitty I been feeling\nRealize, realize, realize, this life (This life, this life, this life)\nI'm sorry I feel no attraction, I know that it's been a minute\n\nRealize your dark side collides inside\nYou run as fast as you can but you can't hide\nRealize your dark side collides inside\nYou run as fast as you can\n\nIn her soul, dark and light fight for the control\nNobody knows\nIn her soul, dark and light fight for the control\nDon't anyone know, don't anyone know\nYou might also like\nMoney is happiness, cap\nBitches got faithfulness, cap\nAnd drugs only make it worse, cap\nI take a perc, then I take me a nap\nTake a sip of the syrup so I could go relax\nBitch, I'm ready for war when the demons attack\nHell yeah, believe that\n\nOne to the face, don't fuckin' hesitate\nI'm high as Heaven gates\nAin't no comin' down, comin' down\nOne to the face, don't fuckin' hesitate\nBitch, I'm high as Heaven gates\nAin't no comin' down, comin' down (Down, down, down)\nBitch, I'm high as Heaven gates\nAin't no comin' down, comin' down (Realize)\nBitch, I'm high as Heaven gates\nAin't no comin' down, comin' down\n\nRealize your dark side collides inside\nYou run as fast as you can but you can't hide\nRealize your dark side collides inside\nYou run as fast as you can\nRealize your dark side collides inside\nYou run as fast as you can but you can't hide\nRealize your dark side collides inside\nYou run as fast as you can\nFather forgive me, for you know that I'm always sinning\nI take no interest partying with liquor, fucking up my system\nExcuse my language that's a hang up on how shitty I been feeling\nI'm sorry I feel no attraction, I know that it's been a minute\nFather forgive me, for you know that I'm always sinning\nI take no interest partying with liquor, fucking up my system\nExcuse my language that's a hang up on how shitty I been feeling\nI'm sorry I feel no attraction, I know that it's been a minute"}
{"text":"Need a drink? (Hoo, ayy, ayy)\nFound my home (Hoo, ooh, hoo, oh)\nShe make me leave the thrills at home and I'm fine...\n\nReally think I found my home, shorty made me feel at home\nShe made me leave the thrills at home and I'm fine with it\nShe really made me lose control, I'ma let my love unfold\nWe're just two lost souls, but we're fine with it\n\nThere's love at my front door, short notice\nShe not like the sane girls, I noticed\nThink I met my soulmate, yeah, I know it\nWhen it gets dark outside, in you I confide\nYou help me face my demons, I won't hide, hide\nGirls like you are hard to find\nI hope you don't mind, if I give you the time of your life, life, life\n\nReally think I found my home, shorty made me feel at home\nShe made me leave the thrills at home and I'm fine with it\nShe really made me lose control, I'ma let my love unfold\nWe're just two lost souls, but we're fine with it\nYou might also like\nLife is not the same with your pictures in my frame\nNow that you're here, I want nothing to change\nYou pick me up when I'm down, I need you around\nYou seen me through my darkest times\nGirl, is there something that you try to find?\nYou brought meaning to my life\nAll because of you, I do right\nBecause of you, I have a purpose\nFight for the world because you're worth it\n\nReally think I found my home, shorty made me feel at home\nShe made me leave the thrills at home and I'm fine with it\nShe really made me lose control, I'ma let my love unfold\nWe're just two lost souls, but we're fine with it"}
{"text":"94 ContributorsTranslationsItalianoEspa\u00f1olT\u00fcrk\u00e7eFran\u00e7aisNederlands\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Scared Of Love Lyrics\nOoh, ooh, woah\nI never been scared\nI tell you that I don't care\nReally I do care\nI hope that you care (Yuh hear mi now, Mitch Mula?)\nI never been scared to love (Drop dat bomboclaat!)\n\nI never been scared of love, scared to love\nI'm on the drugs way too much\nI'm not enough, not enough\nYou're way too much, way too much\nNot scared to love, just scared of love\nNot enough, I'm not enough\nYou're way too much and I'm not getting enough\nYou're way too much, still not getting enough\n\nYou're way too much, too, too much\nThe weight is heavy on my shoulders, girl, you're too much\nYou put my heart in a grave, I get no love\nSo I need more drugs, way too much\nAll I ever do is get fucked up\nAll I ever wanted was a real love\nGot a pint of the lean, I done lucked up\nBros said that it wasn't real mud\nEvery day I wonder if I can pick my heart out my chest (Out my chest)\nLately I been feelin' the worst (Feelin' the worst)\nSo I gotta dress like the best (So I gotta dress like the best)\nMoncler all on my chest (Moncler all on my chest)\nVVS all on my neck (All on my neck)\nBallin' like a fucking upset (Ballin' like a fucking upset)\nThey're beyond stressed\nI been hurt but I'm beyond that\nYou might also like\nI never been scared of love, scared to love\nI'm on the drugs way too much\nI'm not enough, not enough\nYou're way too much, way too much\nNot scared to love, just scared of love\nNot enough, I'm not enough\nYou're way too much and I'm not getting enough\nYou're way too much, still not getting enough\n\nWe woke up in hell, baby, can't you tell? (Tell)\nAs far as I can tell, you're the only heaven here\nI'm running out of Xans, running out of options\nI really need to chill 'fore I'm in a coffin\nWay too late, Russian roulette, okay\nI know I been dead for a minute now\nAin't wanna be alive, no way (Mula tell 'em fall through)\n\nI never been scared of love, scared to love\nI'm on the drugs way too much\nI'm not enough, not enough\nYou're way too much, way too much\nNot scared to love, just scared of love\nNot enough, I'm not enough\nYou're way too much and I'm not getting enough\nYou're way too much, still not getting enough (No, I'm not getting enough)"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olT\u00fcrk\u00e7e\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439ItalianoDeutschFran\u00e7aisNederlandsCandles Lyrics\nI don't know if it's because my heart hurts or if I'm insecure\nI'm not sure\n(Yeah, I like that)\nUh\n\nYeah, I'm not sure\nI don't know if it's because my heart hurts or if I'm insecure\nBaby, you're not her\nMy last girl had me so fucked up, it was a blacked out blur\nBaby, you jump first\nIt's a long way to hell, I ain't really tryna leave this Earth\nBaby, do your worst\nI've come to the conclusion you can't kill me if I kill you first\n\nI've been through the wringer\nTryna put a diamond ring on her finger\nShe love drama, she be watching Jerry Springer\nNext thing you know, we all on Jerry Springer\nI play love games, but no, I'm not a cheater\nShe hate it when I sip codeine, I'm a leaner\nThe devil on my shoulder keep on telling me to keep her\nShould I take her out or should I take her to the cleaner?\nLove don't end good for me, no good for me\nShe's good for me, too good\nThese hoes love playing me, heartbreaking me\nDon't pray for me, just give me drugs (Bring me drugs)\nYou might also like\nJust give me drugs\nJust bring me drugs\nJust give me drugs\n\nYeah, I'm not sure\nI don't know if it's because my heart hurts or if I'm insecure\nBaby, you're not her\nMy last girl had me so fucked up, it was a blacked out blur\nBaby, you jump first\nIt's a long way to hell, I ain't really tryna leave this Earth\nBaby, do your worst\nI've come to the conclusion you can't kill me if I kill you first\n\nI told her, \"Run around and get away\"\nI think I need a getaway\nI need to call a timeout, I need to set another play\nI need a umbrella 'cause every day feel like a rainy day\nI need something other than Xannies to take the pain away\nI ran away to California, I'm tryna cut corners\nSatan bossin' me around, but you know I don't take orders\nYeah, I had to move around, I was startin' to feel cornered\nStartin' to feel cornered, I can't see the front door\nStartin' to feel cornered, startin' to feel slaughtered\nStarted to not give a fuck, screamin' out, \"Why bother?\"\nMy ex-bitch too bad, my next bitch way hotter\nWe met in a car crash, she ride it like full throttle\nYeah, I'm not sure\nI don't know if it's because my heart hurts or if I'm insecure\nBaby, you're not her\nMy last girl had me so fucked up, it was a blacked out blur\nBaby, you jump first\nIt's a long way to hell, I ain't really tryna leave this Earth\nBaby, do your worst\nI've come to the conclusion you can't kill me if I kill you first"}
{"text":"Uh, uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh, uh (Daytrip took it to ten, hey)\n\nSwallow all these pills with my pride (Uh)\nMarried to my highs, you may kiss the bride\nTrouble in my brain, see it in my eyes\nI got voices in my head, they keep me up at night\nSaid I was okay, but I'm lying, feel like that I'm dying\nSoul screaming and crying, feel my brain frying\nTry to numb the pain, all the drugs I've been buying\nThis oxy gettin' pricey, pour the codeine in the Hi-C\nBlood red blend in the Hi-C\nI've been doing so much wrong, even though ma told me to do the right thing\nPoppin' pills all night long, in the studio pourin' out my feelings\nCan't explain this feeling\nKinda feels like I'm losing even though I'm winning\n\nDrain out bad energy (Drain out bad energy)\nForget the bad memories (Forget the bad memories)\nDrain out bad energy (Drain out bad energy)\nForget the bad memories (Forget the bad memories, ayy, ayy)\n\nMulti-million dollars\nAll mine from the start\nCodeine kills the drama\nAnd the trauma in my heart\nJust got a call from the dark side\nStab wounds in my chest, but I'm alright\nI miss my friends, I hate this spotlight\nI love my girl, I hate the thot life\nYellow diamonds, shiny pearls\nI'm tryna give her the world\nI'm tryna show her the world\nShe ain't no ordinary girl\nI know she know, I know she know I'm down and out\nLife is a ocean, demons I've been drownin' out\nI watch the crowd and crack a smile\nI have a job to lead them out\nYou might also like\nDrain out bad energy (Drain out bad energy)\nForget the bad memories (Forget the bad memories)\nDrain out bad energy (Drain out bad energy)\nForget the bad memories (Forget the bad memories, drain, ayy)\n\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh-oh (Daytrip took it to ten, hey)\nOh, oh, oh-oh, oh-oh"}
{"text":"I told her ride it like a rental, it\u2019s just a rental\nI'm not with all the sentimentals, just keep it simple\nI'm not with all the sentimentals, just keep it simple\nUh, I told her ride it like a rental\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nAfter this song, I'm finna ride some dirt bikes\nLit, uh-huh\nIn the hills, fuckin' up all the happy houses\n\nI told her ride it like a rental, it\u2019s just a rental\nI'm not with all the sentimentals, just keep it simple\nYou wanna know what I'm into, so you can get into it\nI ain't tryna get into it, I done been through it\nA lot shit been on my mental, I done been through it\nNiggas say they gon' kill me, Nike, just do it\nBitches say they want the real me, they sound real stupid\nI already told you my relationship with Cupid\nThis shit don't ever work, my heart cold\nIt's been cold since I threw it to the South Pole (Uh)\nAP two-tone, yeah, my wrist cold (Uh)\nStraight flawless, the brightest of crystals (Uh)\nI'm a diamond in the rough, that's a gem, ho (Uh)\nGot a thing for Gemini's with a bad soul (Uh)\nI was taught to let live and to let 'em go (Uh)\nBut instead, I just love them and hold 'em close (Uh)\nOpiate addict, it's fucking Narcos (Uh)\nHeartbreak addict too, I been done wrong (Uh)\nGot a thing for the freaks and the snake hoes (Uh)\nLove sex so much, need a porno (Uh)\nLove head so much, need a deep throat (Uh)\nI can't fuck with her if she don't got a deep throat (Uh)\nHunnid fifty for the watch, not a cheap ho (Uh)\nCubic zirconias, you can keep those (Uh)\nSee a whole different side of me (Uh-huh)\nNeed a girl that'll die for me (Uh-huh)\nHer boyfriend want a rivalry (Uh-huh)\nHer nigga better come right for me (Uh-huh)\nI remember when I couldn't get they time of day\nNow these hoes wanna spend they time with me (Uh-huh)\nI remember being little playin' board games\nNow I'm playing real-life Monopoly (Uh-huh)\nYou might also like\nCha-ching\nCha-ching\nCha-ching\nI wake up in the morning\nWith an alarm clock in my head\nIt's a coach whistle\nAyy, somethin' like a cash register (Ayy, uh)\nCha-ching (Yeah, uh)\n\nI don't got to come back 'cause I never left\nI could only imagine how that feels, no disrespect\nOn the right track, I don't ever go left\nNeed my millions upfront, yeah, plus a bonus\nHad a big heart, uh, 'til a nigga sold it\nHad a good soul, uh, 'til a nigga sold it\nWe came from the same place, I made it, you stayed\nThey wasn't gon' hear our story 'less a real nigga told it\nTook his bitch, yeah, I stole her, I'm gettin' bolder\nI'm sick, nigga, no Ebola, need a Ricola\nShe took my heart, yeah, she stole it and now she own it\nMy heartbreak on the way, I'm good for the moment\nI'm Tom Hanks with the play, Forrest Gump runnin'\nI get bad news every day, gettin' high, just in case\nFake boobs to the face, good nudes, masturbate\nHow rude, baddie with an attitude, give me face\nAttitude, I don't like her attitude, let her swallow\nShe should have an attitude of gratitude, bullets hollow\nGive 'em to a nigga like an attitude\n.50 shot clip for a nigga with an attitude\nRolls-Royce truck, catch me cruisin' on the avenue\nGood nut bust from some head, yeah, that'll do\nI ain't Mr. T, nah, I never pity fools\nI see how you livin', to be honest, it's pitiful\nI don't like much, I'm a chill dude-dude\nComplicated but it's kinda simple\nCall my gun Proactiv, you a pimple\nCatch me interactin' with your bitch, ooh-ooh\nWalk in the room, I'm too smoo-ooth\nThat's not me, that's the percs, ooh-ooh, ooh\n'Til I die, I'ma work, ooh-ooh, ooh\nHad to cut down on the syrup, ooh-ooh, ooh\nI was sleeping away money, couldn't wake up and get money\nNow I'm up tryna get money, give a fuck what they want from me\nI was too heart-broke to get money, yeah, I'm sad, but I'm no dummy\nIf there's anything you should take from me\nIt's that I'm a confused, young, rich junkie (Young, rich junkie)"}
{"text":"Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh, ooh\nLike, oh, ooh, woah, oh, oh, oh-oh-ooh\n\nI'm holding my breath and watching my step\nI'm listing regrets and you made that list\nYou're my depression\nYour first impression wasn't deception, you were lyin'\n\nBitch, I'm still flexin' with my heart broken\nGot my heart open, I'm not high yet\nBitch, I'm still moving, I'm in slow motion\nI rolled my dosage, I'm getting higher\nBitch, I still, I still love my pills, Advils\nYou can't feel, I feel, you can't feel, I feel\nBitch, I still, I still love my pills, Advils\nYou can't feel, I feel, you can't feel, I feel\n\nOh, ooh, woah, oh, oh, oh-oh, oh\nOh, ooh, woah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh-ah\n\nUh, fell in love with your face off the shrooms\nThe way it animates your eyes in the room\nI can see the stars when I'm gazing at you\nNow I need the car with the stars in the roof, ooh\nElephant all in the room, she buried me in a tomb\nI'm feeling overconsumed\nShe walking me to my doom, I see her face in my room\nWhen I'm alone in the room, I'ma blame that on the shrooms (Blame that on the shrooms)\nYou might also like\nOh, feeling ridiculed, feeling like a fool, don't know what to do\nLost my heart, don't got shit to lose\n\nI'm holding my breath and watching my step\nI'm listing regrets and you made that list\nYou're my depression\nYour first impression was in deception, you were lyin'\n\nBitch, I'm still flexin' with my heart broken\nGot my heart open, I'm not high yet\nBitch, I'm still moving, I'm in slow motion\nI rolled my dosage, I'm getting higher\nBitch, I still, I still love my pills, Advils\nYou can't feel, I feel, you can't feel, I feel\nBitch, I still, I still love my pills, Advils\nYou can't feel, I feel, you can't feel, I feel\n\nOh, ooh, woah, oh, oh, oh-oh-oh\nOh, ooh, woah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh"}
{"text":"Ooh\nAnd we live\nAnd we recording\nAnd there's lean on deck, you know?\nPurple Rain\nOkay, so, yeah\n\nI just popped a bean yesterday, it was a long night\nI done did the right drugs, only on the wrong night\nI was rocking Off-White, tryna have a fun time\nShe gon' eat like lunch time, molly got her on time\nFuck niggas don't get respect, but I'ma die about mine\nSwervo told me stop popping them Xannies 'fore I flatline\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\n\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\nI'ma be fine (Uh), I'ma be fine\n\nBut in the meantime, bitch, it's lean time\nPop a bean time 'cause it ain't killing me\nMy lil' bro keep a .40, they thought his ass was security\nToo busy making money to worry 'bout making memories\nBut in the meantime, bitch, it's green time\nMaybe lean time, outta energy\nMy momma told me, \"Stop the painkillers\"\nThem shits is killing me (Killing me, killing me), I'ma be fine (Huh)\nYou might also like\nI just popped a bean yesterday, it was a long night\nI done did the right drugs, only on the wrong night\nI was rocking Off-White, tryna have a fun time\nShe gon' eat like lunchtime, molly got her on time\nFuck niggas don't get respect, but I'ma die about mine\nSwervo told me stop popping them Xannies 'fore I flatline\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh)\nI'ma be fine, I'ma be fine (Uh), I'ma be fine\n\nThey know my name hold weight (Uh)\nPut it in her mouth just like Colgate (Uh)\nGet outta line and you get punched in your face\nShouldn't have been around here in the first place\nNow you got a black eye\nI got mob ties, I got gang ties\nMake you drown in your blood, just like high tide\nNow I'm up, everybody wanna high five\nRemember when they used to diss me in the lunch line\nNow I'm eating steak and eggs when it's lunchtime\nI remember eating Ramen with a Glock .9\nI remember when she left me for the next guy\nNow she calling me her next guy (Huh)\n\nI just popped a bean yesterday, it was a long night\nI done did the right drugs, only on the wrong night\nI was rocking Off-White, tryna have a fun time\nShe gon' eat like lunch time, molly got her on time\nFuck niggas don't get respect, but I'ma die about mine\nSwervo told me stop popping them Xannies 'fore I flatline\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\nI said hold on, bro wait (Uh), I'ma be fine\nI'ma be fine (Uh), I'ma be fine\n\nI woke up Xanning\nI sit down, I can't stand it anymore (Anymore)\nCan't stand it anymore (Anymore, anymore, ooh, ooh)\nI woke up leaning, so I woke up dreaming (Dreaming)\nAnd fiending for more, for more, for more\nOne cup, I need four more, hey\nI woke up leaning, so I woke up dreaming (Dreaming)\nAnd fiending for more, for more, for more\nOne cup, I need four more, hey (Hey, hey, hey, hey)"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olT\u00fcrk\u00e7e\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439ItalianoFran\u00e7aisNederlandsUsed To Lyrics\nOh, oh, oh\nIt don't hurt as bad as it used to\nYeah, I like that\nFreestyling to it\n\nIt don't hurt as bad as it used to\nI admit girl, yeah, I just use you\nI admit this not what I'm used to\nIke Turner, but I'd never abuse you\nWoah, my last girl left me cold\nLike frozen in the snow\nShe already knows\nIt's hard for me to let go\n\nI been drinkin' and drivin' and survivin'\nTake my sorrow and bury me alive in it\nWear your best dress, girl, 'cause you gon' die in it\nBet you regret the day that you lied in it\nCrashed the car again, goddamn\nBreak my heart again, goddamn\nI don't have no friends, goddamn\nI'm alone until the end, goddamn\nCrashed the car again, goddamn\nBreak my heart again, goddamn\nI don't have no friends, goddamn\nI'm alone until the end, goddamn\nYou might also like\nIt don't hurt as bad as it used to\nI admit girl, yeah, I just use you\nI admit this not what I'm used to\nIke Turner, but I'd never abuse you\nWoah, my last girl left me cold\nLike frozen in the snow\nShe already knows\nIt's hard for me to let go\n\nI been drinkin' and drivin' and survivin'\nTake my sorrow and bury me alive in it\nWear your best dress, girl, 'cause you gon' die in it\nBet you regret the day that you lied in it\nCrashed the car again, goddamn\nBreak my heart again, goddamn\nI don't have no friends, goddamn\nI'm alone until the end, goddamn\nCrashed the car again, goddamn\nBreak my heart again, goddamn\nI don't have no friends, goddamn\nI'm alone until the end, goddamn\n\nIt don't hurt as bad as it used to\nI admit girl, yeah, I just use you\nI admit this not what I'm used to\nIke Turner, but I'd never abuse you\nWoah, my last girl left me cold\nLike frozen in the snow\nShe already knows\nIt's hard for me to let go"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsTranslationsItaliano\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439T\u00fcrk\u00e7eFran\u00e7aisNederlandsDeutschEspa\u00f1olFighting Demons Lyrics\nRun away\nIn fear of me dying today\n\nYeah, I run away\nIn fear of me dying today,\u2005ah\nAnd\u2005I'm not the\u2005same\nWho said I was subject to\u2005change?\nMy demons are breakin' out of their cage\nI'm praying that I see another day (Chill, chill)\nI said my demons are breakin' out of their cage\nOn my knees, I pray for better days\n\nChip, chip, cheerio, everything's all good, right?\nI got rich, I got rich, I'm livin' that fast life\nCouple M's in my bank account, I got cash, right?\nAnd that's supposed to make me happy\nI got a couple questions\nHow come that shit don't ever make me happy?\nMoney give me an erection\nBut that don't mean it's gon' be everlasting\nYeah, I know it's a blessing\nBut how come it always feel like the devil plottin'\nAnd the devil watchin'?\nHe see me buyin' all these watches\nBenjamin Franklin in my pockets\nOoh, been a year of the glitz and the glam\nAnd the TV channels, brain's going scramble\nScrambling sometimes 'cause this shit is hard to handle\nDemons in my heart (Yeah), they destroy me like a vandal (Ah)\nYou might also like\nTake my hand\nDon't give up\nTake my hand\nDon't give up\n\nYeah, I run away\nIn fear of me dying today, ah\nAnd I'm not the same\nWho said I was subject to change?\nMy demons are breakin' out of their cage\nI'm praying that I see another day (Chill, chill)\nI said my demons are breakin' out of their cage\nOn my knees, I pray for better days\n\nKarma ain't what you think it is\nSuper stressed, still handle all of my business\nDo the best I can, yes, I can\nYes, I am, misfortune\nI know in the dark, they be lurking (Why?)\nSame way they lurk in your head when they get in your mind\nYou don't wanna know what they're tryin' to find\nI'll protect your soul (Ah)\nTake my hand\nDon't give up\nTake my hand\nDon't give up\n\nYeah, I run away\nIn fear of me dying today, ah\nAnd I'm not the same\nWho said I was subject to change?\nMy demons are breakin' out of their cage\nI'm praying that I see another day (Chill, chill)\nI said my demons are breakin' out of their cage\nOn my knees, I pray for better days"}
{"text":"This a one-take gang, isn't it, Max Lord?\nThis is a one-take-ass song (Yeah, uh-huh)\n(999, Juice) Perc' give me a feelin' (Sheesh)\nMy girl just walked into the building (Hi bae, hey)\nHuh, uh\nPercs give me a feeling, I feel it (Do you feel it? Ayy)\nPercs give me a feeling, I feel it (Man, goddamn)\nLike Black Eyed Peas\n\nI got a feeling, uh\nPercs help me feel it, I feel it, uh\nProblems, I numb and conceal them\nIt's kinda like my feelings, but I still feel them\nI just walked in the building\nLook like a million, but I'm worth more than a million\nI don't need no Ritalin, I'm focused on the millions\nDisregard civilians\nUntil I get a house with a moat and a pavilion (Let's go, let's go, let's go)\n\nI reek of good vibes\nSmokin' on reefer, I'm high\nPercocet fever\nThe type of pill to make you scratch until your nails gone (Yeah, yeah)\nDrugs in my head, you heard what I said\nNo five, no ten, no fifteen, twenty, just Perc-30s in my meds\nI told my mama I'm here to stay, no, she won't catch me dead\nI'm too much of an idol, nigga, no Ryan Seacrest (Oh yeah)\nDo it by my V-lone, 'lone\n(This is about you, not me)\nAlone, alone, alone (Slatt, slatt, slatt, slatt)\nYou might also like\nI got a feeling\nPercs help me feel it, I feel it, uh\nProblems, I numb and conceal them\nIt's kinda like my feelings, but I still feel them\nI just walked in the building\nLook like a million, but I'm worth more than a million\nI don't need no Ritalin, I'm focused on the millions\nDisregard civilians\nUntil I get a house with a moat and a pavilion\n\n'Til I get a house with a moat and a pavilion\nWalked into your building, nigga, I'm a villain\nFeel like Dragon Ball, bitch, I'm Goku and you Krillin\nBickin' back, I'm boolin', these niggas be chillin'\nAll up in they feelings, me, I'm just winning\nW-I-N-N-I-N-G (Spell it)\nBoy, it's ain't no \"I\" in team but it's an \"M-E\" in team (Fuck)\nI meant it's a \"me\" in team (Yeah)\nI know I just fucked up, but bitch, I'm still the freestyle king, whoa (On God, on God)\nHer pussy wetter than olive oil, my watch cost a hundred more\nMy new girl a Lamborghin', your girl a Honda Accord\nMama told me I gotta stay focused, told her I am not a Ford\nFocused, you notice when it disappear like hocus pocus\nI got a feeling\nPercs help me feel it, I feel it, uh\nProblems, I numb and conceal them\nIt's kinda like my feelings, but I still feel them\nI just walked in the building\nLook like a million, but I'm worth more than a million\nI don't need no Ritalin, I'm focused on the millions\nDisregard civilians\nUntil I get a house with a moat and a pavilion (Let's go, let's go, let's go)"}
{"text":"Yeah, uh, uh\nUh-huh, huh, hahaha\nSome of y'all be sayin' y'all freestylin'\nBut y'all be like... spittin' writtens and shit\nHaha, that's BS\nUh, uh-huh, uh, uh-huh, uh, uh-huh\nUh, I don't even write my wrongs, haha\nAyy, yuh\n\nOff the top, kickin' it, no karate class\nJanitor, I'll mop his ass up, chop his ass up\nI'm the best at what I do, can't nobody do it better\nYour girl a sprinkler system from the way I get her wetter\nUh, I'm out the jam like jelly\nI'ma go hard, catch a shot like Belly\nI'm the best to ever do it, have 'em leakin' body fluids\nFeel like Waka Flocka, \"O Let's Do It\" when I'm on this music\nOff the dome when I'm kickin' it\nKinda like I got a impediment when I'm spittin' it\nI been rippin' writtens without writin' a damn thing\nI'm doin' my damn thing, I rap and I sing\nI ring like bells, king\nThat's me, you better king me\nI'm married to the money, fuck it, need to buy a ring, b\nI pull up on the scene, choppa get to fuckin' ringing\nLike a joke or something, choppa get to zinging, aha\nMan this shit look easy, on my grind like Trukfit, no Lil Weezy\nYour bitch too sleazy, .40 bless you, sneezin', uh\nI'm the best to ever do it, take yo' breath away, you not breathin', uh\nBreaking Bad method how I sell this meth\nRetrospect, put that shit back in retrospect\nTake your specs, take your bitch, grab her breast, tat her chest\nI'm the best to ever do it, I'ma say that again\nLord forgive me on this mic, 'cause I know I'm finna sin\nKillin' him, him, and him, referencin' Eminem\nAll these other rappers ain't shit but feminine, and\nI don't really got time for it\nThey can have a penny 'cause I don't really got a dime for it\nCatch me rockin' Tom Ford and some Air Forces\nWith a passport and a black torch\nComin' up the full court, pressed like Kobe or somethin'\nSuper clutch in the fourth like Ginobili or somethin'\nYou say you ballin' like you Jordan, nigga, nah, you frontin'\nRun up on me, that's okay, that choppa on me get to jumpin' like Jumpman\n.23 in that glizzy, come and get it\nI been defyin' niggas like science and physics\nYou run up on me, I hit 'em\nThat choppa on me like a tongue, I pull it out and it lick 'em\nI'ma shoot him 'til he done, uh\nI got all the girls sprung, pull up on the scene like a \"he hung\"\nI'm of the best to ever do it, say that again\nOff the dome, kickin' it, that's just how it is\nI don't got to write shit, I see it like a psychic\nYour girl like a Huffy commercial, she ride like bikes, kid\nI'm the best to ever do it, yeah, I said it, huh, and I meant it\nListen to my lyrics, man, I vibe on this bitch\nRoll a blunt up, a OG, and get high on this bitch\nMix it with the pills and liquor, I may die on this bitch\nDid I do that shit on purpose? Suicide in that bitch, huh\nSuicide doors with a suicide whore\nDrivin' off a bridge, I call that a suicide Porsche, haha\nOoh, we kickin' it, man, look\nI pull up in a four-door flippin' like parkour\nFuck your bitch on camera and call that shit a hardcore\nHard porn, sharper than harpoons\nI come through with three bullets in my face, that's a war room\nAnimated like cartoons when I'm off the shrooms\nNiggas dirty so that choppa actin' like brooms, uh\nNiggas salty like Spongebob and spittoon, uh\nPull up on the scene, huh, that's just me, uh\nHey, switch that shit up real quick, uh-huh\nI may come back to that, I don't know\nYou might also like\nUh-huh, I was just talkin' about how I like Tyler and that nigga Cole\nUh, I'ma, uh\nI'ma fuckin' Dapper Dan in a pair of Gucci socks\nRun up on me, you get popped\nCatch the shot out the Glock, I'm the Juice, word to Pac\nRun up on me, pop your top, matter of fact, better back up\n'Cause I'm in the back of the truck, with the MAC tucked\nTell that nigga condiment or somethin', he need to catch up\nHe can't catch us, them niggas can't back us, huh\nMan, them niggas need some backup\nI'm on the scene, boolin' with my bros\nLike I'm Drake with the 6, runnin' through it with my woes\nRun up on me like Shaquille, in the paint I'm throwin' bows\nYou a ballerina 'cause I keep you on your toes\nShout out to them Florida niggas, I know some zoes\nRun up, that's okay, I'm finna let the choppa blow\nI'm on Westwood, ridin' through your hood\nLike Red Ridin', strikin' like bright lightnin', my flow is too excitin'\nI'll end your world like Mayans, off the dome, kickin' it\nTry me if you think I'm lyin', man, listen how I do it\nI get brain from a smart bitch but she stupid\nPut an arrow through your heart, but no, I'm not Cupid\nMake you shuffle when I shoot, but no, it's not Cupid\nThe wordplay is so cold, my heart is so gone\nYo bitch is so sprung, yeah, I put the team on\nShe gon' give the whole team head, call that a crew neck\nBut I'm wearin' a sweater, I'ma get her wetter, uh\nI'm the best to ever do it, I'll say that shit forever\nNo matter the weather, knock 'em out like Floyd Mayweather\nI'm off the dome kickin' it, that's just how it is\nI'm Khalifa with the reefer but I never been a wiz\nTricks are for grownups, they said they were for kids\nHell nah, 'cause you will get popped off like a zit\nIf you fuckin' with my money cuz, I'm all about a grip\nTell your bitch to swallow kids and I'll tell you to swallow clips\nRest in piss, rest in this, matter of fact, I'ma go hard\nSpit crack like Bobby Brown and grill 'em like Bogarts\nStomp the yard like Chris Brown like he got shot in the movie\nI'm hotter than white bitches chillin' in a jacuzzi\nMy money got longer, shout out to Uzi\nI'm in the scene with a nina, you run up, I'm shootin'\nI swear that you don't want no problems with me, it's over with\nCall me everything but sober, I am not with that sober shit\nIt's a union with my gang, come around like a Soviet\nMatter of fact, I'm finna gamble for this shit, where your poker chips?\nIf you run up, you'll, you'll get cranked like Soulja did\nI'ma drop bars same way I drop bombs\nYou ain't on shit, ww-dot-com\nI forgot a W, I took that out, 'cause that W stand for \"Win\"\nI never took the losin' route, I always took the losers out\nEeny meeny miney moe, I always pick the choosers out\nShe got titties, when she come around I pick the hooters out\nRun up on me, that's okay, they beefin' on computers now?\nI'm not worried about these niggas, keep a .30 on my hip\nI Steph Curry about these niggas\nThese niggas hella soft, man I worry about these niggas\nI never run away, I don't flurry away from niggas\nThat nigga lil' pussy, he furry, ain't he, lil' nigga?\nPull up on the scene, you know I'm with it\nMy windows tinted, pulled up clean with a \"Stop, you're finished\"\nYou know we dig it\nI'm ballin' like Dennis Rodman, I'm fuckin' awesome\nI'm bombin' like atomic, my eyes are redder than demonic\nI'm faster than Sonic, I'm faster, withdrawals got me fastin'\nMy stomach movin' slow like molasses\nI got it, run up on me, I'm poppin'\nFeel like Drake when I'm rappin' 'cause I start from the bottom\nAll this shit that I'm talkin', I could probably back it up\nI slide into your bitch DM like a sled and toboggan\nFor your brains I may bargain, I caught you lackin' at Target\nI'll turn your ass to a target then threw your ass in the garbage\nRun up on me, it's nothing, I swear to God that I'm bussin'\nLike a Proactiv commercial or somethin', haha\nThese niggas makin' assumptions, me, I'm just makin' this money, huh\nI wear Givenchy, you still in Abercrombie, you see the difference?\nBroke niggas and rich niggas, showin' the distance\nThis is a business relationship, fuck a friendship\nAll these other niggas fake like, \"What you got over there?\nLet me get something off your plate,\" nah\nI did this by myself so I don't need nobody help\nShit, I'm a giant, you an elf, I put your brains up on a shelf after I collect it\nMatter of fact, my mind is my weapon\nSlide through your block again and catch some sloppy seconds\nThat's a preference, I heard you like talkin' about Heaven\nWell I send your ass to hell, right next to Jezebel, uh, huh\nYou can catch twenty shells, you a fat pussy, you get shot, Garfield\nI got bars like jail barbells, these niggas not funny, huh, Seinfeld, aha\nBut my flow is so unpredictable\nFuckin' with me is like steppin' in a minefield\nMan, I could never mess up, I gotta 'fess up, this is a confession\nI pull up on the scene with my .40, it came from my plaster\nThat shit's a blessin', huh, I leave you in the past tense\nI wrap the rap in plastics, that's just some plaster rap\nBut I'm still the realest rapper after the fact, huh, can you imagine that?\nMan, these niggas sick to hell, Johnson couldn't magic that\nMan, this rappin' shit is such a passion\nNot a father when I did it so I'm callin' me a bastard\nAnd these niggas talkin' dumb to me\nBut that shit doesn't matter, 'cause my pockets gettin' fatter\nAnd I'm climbin' like a ladder, outer space, I'm up on Saturn\nWith some niggas that came from my hometown\nThey really rowdy, you run up, that's okay\nI swear to God we get to growlin' and bouncin' and pouncin'\nYou gon' need a bouncer, we robbin' your accountant for everything\nSo much money that I ain't even count yet\nLife's a bitch, why is mine keep playin' farfetched?\nThese niggas ain't locked up, haven't seen bars yet\nMy gun singin' like Barbra, guess, Streisand\nI got a knife in my right hand, your bitch in my left hand\nHer meth in my back pocket, I'll give it to her in a second\nIf she keep jockin', I'll rip your eyes out of your head\nIf you keep watchin', I am the best rapper in here\nThe best rapper over there, the best rapper everywhere\nI can say what I want and it come out how I want it\nRun up if you want, that's okay 'cause it's over\nI really do not condone it, I don't fuck with opponents\nIt's commas, no exponents, but these bullets come in three\nAnd they be singin' like Jonas, I don't really got no smoke\nBut if you want it I got it, I pull it out and I pop it\nI send some shots at your noggin, I remember rockin' Robins\nBack at the bottom, now it's Givenchy and Gucci\nAll over my pair of pockets, man, maybe I should stop it\nLet's keep goin' man, I'm just feelin' nauseous\nOff the Henny, that's the remedy\nA hundred in these clips, so if I shoot it that's a centipede\nI stick it on the Lamborghini, drivin' like a century\nIt's twenty-one inside this clip, huh, like the century, I'm schoolin' niggas\nRuler in the Glock, elementary, I'm in her mouth like a dentist\nShe made me replenish, I'm ballin' like I'm Dennis\nRodman, rotten, plottin', freestyle, no jottin', I got it\nMan, I could rap forever\nIf I go broke, Westwood, I'ma prolly trap forever\nSo cold I could go to Siberia and trap the weather\nI could trap in Siberia, I could trap wherever\nMan, rainy weather, sunny weather, either way, it goes\nMy gun with me 'cause let's go, ooh\nNext beat, next beat, I may come back, ahahaha\n\nNext part, Earl Sweatshirt Kill?\nCool, uh, uh-huh, yeah, uh\nCatch me spittin' on this Kill beat\nHopin' that these niggas would just feel me, the real me\nMy weapon is concealed and\nYou know I'm a suspect when I walk into the building\nI came to London just to make some noise\nThe shit I say is for grown men, these bars are not for lil' boys\nI'm Andy with these toys\nYou run up on me, you get flexed on like Terry Crews and steroids\nListen, I been ballin' like a Piston\nI been marchin' on niggas like I am army enlisted\nYou run up on me, you get it\nMy choppa retarded and spittin' on these goofy ass niggas\nPop a roofie, I'm gone, in a whole 'nother zone\nPut my dick in yo mom, that's the shit that I'm on\nYeah, that's the shit that I'm on, you ain't on shit 'cause you dumb\nYou run up on me, you gone, that choppa on me, it's rung\nYou get hung like a noose\nI'm about the war, give a fuck about the truce\nAll about myself, I give a fuck about you\nMatter of fact, I may just shoot the fuck up out you\nPut an X next to your name like Malcolm\nI guess you didn't weigh your options out, your outcomes\nYou did the wrong shit on the right day\nWe turn a white day into a red day\nFuck what yo mom say, fuck what yo dad say\nI keep it 3K like my first name Andre\nIf I go broke, I'm probably servin' like an entree\nIn Bombay with yo girl suckin' all on me\nOff the Xannies, I'm a zombie\nDon't believe me, try me, fuck around, stomp you\nI'm kinda hungry off the weed, I may chomp you\nAnd that shorty, she a eater, she a muncher\nMan I'm feeling like a monster\nStraight Jeffrey Dahmer when I'm grippin' the Llama\nYou don't want problems, no smoke at all\nI take your whole pound and smoke it all\nI take yo bitches then fuck 'em all\nThey on my D, I'm hatin', I duck 'em all\nAnd she look at my whole team then suck 'em all\nMacaroni on me, it'll buck-buck 'em all\nMan somebody tell me to stop, nah, I'ma keep goin', just watch\nI take yo Rollie, yo watch, yo bitches all on my cock\nYou run up on me, get popped, they judge a nigga like Cochran\nThey forgot to stop it, run up on me here\nI got a rocket on me, no launcher\nI feel like I am the best-est, I'm deadlier than asbestos\nMy word is really my weapon, I'm coming back for some seconds\nFreestylin's a preference, send you to stairway to heaven\nMan, these niggas writin' the shit that I say\nThe beats beat when I'm beatin' like Doctor the Dre\nI pull up on them with the choppa, and screamin' out, \"Hey!\nFuck you, pow pow, have a nice day\"\nAnd my wrist is like an ice tray, and yo bitch she do what I say\nYeah, she put her hands in the air when my song come on\nLike single ladies and Beyonc\u00e9, yeah\nAnd the way that I spit shit\nI burn niggas like Jamaicans with the incense\nBeen the realest with the shit ever since I was an infant\nI'm a misfit, Tony Hawk on my grind like a trip tip, you could get hit\nChoppa leave you cryin' like a chick flick, I'm a sick kid\nBitch, I been lit, man these niggas ain't shit but some pussies\nAnd pork ass niggas, fuck is a piglet\nFuck is these niggas, I don't fuck with these niggas\nA four-leaf clover on a bullet, good luck with these niggas\nMan it must suck for these niggas, ol' sufferin' niggas\nYouTube ol' video bufferin' niggas\nOl' big bad wolf huff-puffin' ass niggas\n'Til I pull up on the scene like, \"You think you hard?\"\nI put a bullet hole through your muffin ass, nigga\nMan, all the songs that I'm bumpin', I got the partiers jumpin'\nYou run up on me, it's over, that chopper's on me, it's dumpin'\nI'll dump you like a bad relationship, hold on, wait, wait, wait\nLet me take this shit, it may take a bit\nI spit the shit I say, go back, re-say it\nThen say somethin' different, replacin' it, man they hatin' us\nIt's presidential brain from yo bitch Sarah Palin kid\nStill sellin' John McCain, like you got yo shit snatched\nMy flow is off the chain, pull up in the rover, yeah, I got the range\nI feel like Drake, nothing was the same\nNiggas love to hate, get up out my face before you catch a AK\nShoot him in his face, tell that nigga bye-bye, man down, mayday\nPull up to his mom house and turn it to my safe place\nI need a safe haven, I'm too busy slayin'\nDyin' my hair like Super Saiyans, leave his face on the pavement\nJackie Chan when I'm smokin', I really feel like an Asian\nFuck yo bitch when I'm high, call that shit Asian persuasion\nI rush out with yo girl, she fuck for hours up in the shower\nI feel like I got superpowers, I'm so superb\nI'm 'bout the action, you niggas 'bout action verbs\nI don't gotta say a word, I shoot for the green, feelin' like Larry Bird\nOn the competition, I drop and take a turd\nShove it in they ears, they hearin' every word\nReally though, I get it poppin' like a nigga hittin' wheelies, ho\nOr an ollie, ho, or a molly, ho\nRun a train on yo bitch, that's a trolley, ho\nDon't try me how I do you like Dej Loaf\nYou want to go to heaven so bad, here's a halo\nMy gun sing like J Lo, you better get low like limbo\nBefore you catch a couple shots for yo kinfolk\nI'm Rambo with the ammo, I don't never let go\nMoney kinda stick to me, call me Juice Velcro\nSay you gettin' money now, fuck nigga hell no\nYou don't like Adidas but this choppa give you shell toes\nThis choppa give you shell toes\nAnd leave yo ass dancin' on the floor like a red nose\nBeam on my gun, that's a red nose\nPull up on the scene, let the shit blow\nYonkers, Yonkers, in this bitch with Westwood, man\n\nYeah, let's do it, oof, got a lil' more bounce to it, don't it?\nUh, uh, I've been going through a lot as of lately\nYou can call me crazy\nBitches wanna play me\nReally I got blueprints\nFeelin' like I'm JAY-Z\nMy flow in the morning, Westwood no Sway B\nThat's just how it is, boy\nMy flow so brazy, my flow so cool\nMy flow so outdated, so old school\nBut then nigga switch it up to something so new\nThese niggas walking around like they bulletproof\n'Til the bullets shoot, leave the bullets through his sunroof\nKill his son too\nGive a fuck, oh, give a fuck\nNah, not what I do\nI'm the type to pull up on your youth group\nWith a choppa and a machete, that's fuckin' useful\nMatter of fact, here it go\nI ain't the same nigga I was a year ago\nI feel like Jesus in the studio\nI'm spittin' miracles, I'm in that white whip\nWhat you call that shit? A miracle\nFuck yo bitch from the back singing negro spirituals\nGot a seal, like fate, like a fuckin' envelope\nI ain't dope, I'm anti-dope, word to Travis\nYou run up, that's okay, you gettin' played like Lenny Kravitz\nI never had a father, like I said I'm such a bastard\nYou run up, uh, cool, I'ma let your brain splatter\nThe bullet rim rattle\nI feel like Shaquille in the fourth\nBreak backboards\nHow I break her back when I hit it from the back, boy\nI'm up to bat, boy, it's out the park like Barry Bonds\nYou best believe that boy, huh\nI spit crack boy\nI spit anything they want\nI sell it and make it right back boy\nYou run up on me you get smacked, boy\nYou get smacked like a bitch and a pimp running laps boy\nI'm running shit like gym class on your bitch ass\nLeave you leaking like maxi pads, grab a Tampax\nI pull up on 'em with two guns, they attached\nKnocked 'em out, ping ping ping, boxing match, uh\nBut my flow is unmatched, my flow is outmatched\nMy flow is so hard, your flow is wack\nMy flow is so crack, your flow is so mid\nMy flow is so kill, your flow is so eh\nI don't got time for it\nSuck on my dick, tell your bitch to come over and swallow my kids\nChoppa on my hip I had to hollow my tips\nHallowed be thy name, pray to catch his ass slippin'\nPull up on his ass leave him leakin' I get 'em\nWalkin' with a limp, .40 heavy like I'm pimpin'\nMatter fact I have 'em dancin' when I shoot it crippin'\nNiggas talkin' stupid 'til that nigga end up missin'\nUFC when I fight 'em I put 'em submission\nHand on a Smith and, I'ma go and get 'em\nStevie Wonder with it, still got 20\/20 vision\nYou can't fuck with me, uh, you can't fuck with me, huh\nI'm like a bad STD, bitch, you stuck with me, huh\n.40 on my hip, I up it on me luckily, huh\nRushin' hours, like I said got Chrissie Tuck with me, ayy\nCouple niggas that's bound to not give a fuck with me, huh\nJust in case these other niggas try to fuck with me, uh\nKept my wits about me luckily, you know I'm smart, uh\nI've been flying through the air I feel like Bonaparte, uh\nKeep two bitches in my circle like I'm Noah's Arc, uh\nFuck with me I up that choppa tear your bones apart, uh\nFelt my grove on this track now I'm goin', huh\nIn too deep with this rap shit the ocean, uh\nI'm a flow of the purple, the potion, uh\nI'ma catch me a op in the open, uh\nI make this shit look easy while you strugglin'\nI'm ballin' triple doublin' while you doublin'\nI exposed like shrooms get it? I be trufflin'\nIt's Terry Crews with this shit you know I'm musclin'\nWatchin' Regular Show laughin' at Muscle Man\nChip on my shoulder it's lookin' like a Pringles can\nDesert Eagle on my hip, I'm not a Eagles fan\nYou know I'm from Chicago they my people man, yeah\nTry me if you wanna\nI'll smoke you like a backwood full of marijuana\nMatter fact you run up on me you don't want no drama\nI'ma leave you scratched like a DJ after DJ Drama touched it\nI don't give a fuck, I'm on my fucked shit\nI'm killin' niggas like they on my bucket list\nI turn my bucket list into a fuckin' fuck it list\nSo when I kill I walk away like fuck it, shit\nI be on my fuck it shit\nMatter fact me and G-Money hittin' the dealership\nPullin' up in the Chrysler like John Dillinger\nRich as fuck like, \"Damn, is you drug dealin' bitch?\"\nNah, I'm rappin', used to be trappin'\nNiggas was actin'\nCops hit the door I hid the coke in the napkin\nI was shootin' craps takin' money\nTakin' craps on all these niggas takin' naps on me\nThey was sleepin'\nWestwood, they was sleepin', couldn't believe 'em\nNow I'm the type to beat the beat up 'til it's bleedin'\nChoke it out 'til the mutha' fuckers barely breathin'\nThey ain't know a rockstar could rap like this\nI'ma MC off the High-Tech mixed with High-C\nYou don't want that\nShoot you in your stomach that shit hard to digest\nMake a art project out the projects\nShoot you in your eyes put the shit in prospect\nLookin' at your mindset, I'm beyond that\nI'm beyond that, I like this beat\nThis beat like me, I check this beat\nThis beat Nike, these shoes on my feet\nThese shits pricey, like thirteen hunnid, huh\nYou know I run it, I pull up in Hummers\nYou know I roll with them gunners\nI feel like Birdman stunner, uh\nYou don't want no problems\nI give you cancer with this bullet\nYou can catch this trauma, uh\nMan I know you heard the rumors\nNiggas beefin' all over computers\nUntil I catch 'em lackin' in my city\nBeat him in his head until he catch a tumor\nTell his momma that I did it, she confused\n\"Why my baby all over the fuckin' news?\"\n\"What the fuck my baby went and fuckin' did?\"\nHe prolly went and fucked with Juice The Kid\nThat's my old name, now it's Juice WRLD\nWent to a different planet\nNow I'm up in two worlds\nFuck that shit I'm up in two girls\nDiamonds and pearls, I'm ruling the world\nRevenge on my body, bitch, 'cause that's my state of mind\nStevie Wonder like I said before 'cause I'ma rob you blind\nI got all these answers that these niggas search to find\nAnd they bitches kinda bad I'ma have to get behind\nHit it from the back until I fuckin' break her spine\nAfter that I may just have to go and take what's mine\nYeah, yeah, turn on that Mob Deep shit\n\nUh-uh, uh, uh-uh, uh, oh\nAin't no such thing as halfway\nAin't no such thing as halfway\nAin't no such thing as halfway gangsters\nYou in them hallways, you ain't in the streets\nNiggas really thinking that it's cool to make beef\nAnd become enemies of enemies\nHow come all of my enemies was friends to me\nHow come all my enemies is frenemies\nHow come all my enemies is blind\nI catch 'em lackin' and kill 'em before I read all they energy\nI guess that's my energy\nI don't know what's gotten' into me\nI'm kinda fucked up, well at least mentally\nPhysically I'm richer than a bitch, who I'm meant to be\nI'm up in London gettin' in bustin'\nHead like concussion\nRun up, that's okay, I swear to God that it's nothin'\nAll these niggas be beefin' really they bluffin'\nI'ma change the money like it's a subject\nThinkin' nothin' of it\nFuckin' bitches in public\nCallin' a ruckers\nCausin' a ruckus\nI'm a boondock nigga\nI'm feelin' like Uncle Ruckus\nOff the dome when I'm kickin'\nFreestyle I don't do the writtens\nI don't fuck with cats, so I be beatin' up the kitten\nI don't fuck with scrappin' so I'm grippin' on that Smith and\nIf you want it come and get it, sixty shots in sixty seconds\nHad to kill 'em in a minute\nMy flow is intimate, white it out like it's Eminem\nReally I keep on killin', my bars are really intricate\nMan, I love it when I spit heat\nThese niggas think that they can get me, they can't get me\nYou rich than a bitch, hell nah, nigga, convince me\nI leave that nigga cooked up like mincemeat\nI use his head as a centerpiece\nI get Duff and Clinton money like my name Hillary\nI spit like I'm on a ministry\nYou run up on me I'm killin'\nMy choppa on me, that's my mini-me, aha, yeah\nThat's my mini-me\nI keep it in the trunk of the Bimmer that's where it's 'posed to be\nThat's where it's meant to be, that's where I'm meant to be\nUh, uh, hold on\nLet me catch my vibe\nFuck your bitch be mad if she blow my high\nSuck my dick in a fuckin' suicide\nAfter that catch a drift and commit suicide\nXanny and the Percy, I'm a whole different person\nEven if I'm high as fuck, I'm in the studio working\nBall like Julius Erving, fuck with me you hit the curb\nCurb stomp a nigga before he could say a word\nYeah, and that's on my life\nYou lookin' for my son, I'll put that in your wife\nYou run up, that's okay, I got my .45\nIt's a fifty up in it, shoot his ass forty times\nI gave my choppa a titty, that bitch busty\nThese niggas talking stupid, they crusty\nSmoking on the stank shit, musty\nReal ass nigga shit I must be, huh, yeah\nShit I must be\nPull up on the scene, that's just me\nI don't need a team but I got two teams\nI don't sip green, I just sip red lean\nDouble cup filled up got me stumblin'\nFlippin' the work up, it's Jesse White tumblin'\nI got the sack I called a player I ain't fumblin'\nI shoot his ass then he crawled a car under it\nI'll blow up, C4's I may just detour, huh\nPull up on 'em like ooh\nHold on let me catch this bitch\nFinna' give 'em, uh\nBack on spittin' the crack, ho\nFull of shit they call me a asshole\nShy? hell no just a little bashful\nBrick hell yeah, got a little cash flow\nI spent a hunnid K within a month\nI spent fifty K on a blunt\nYou ain't smokin' what I'm smokin' lil' boy\nBig loud, your shit makin' no noise\nReal nigga, they a bunch of decoys\nRun up on me then they gettin' destroyed\nWho the fuck brought in these boys\nWho the fuck tottin' all these toys\n.30 and that .40 make 'em act up\nKinda like a cha-cha slide he back up\nPourin' that in the back of the truck\nWith a bitch that like to act up\nI still get my dick sucked\nI don't spit lines, I still got pick up\nThe truck got pick up, your bitch get picked up\nI still get my dick sucked\nWe and Westwood lit as a bitch\nI give a shit I'm a hit\nI hit the bitch then I'm gone\nI hit that bitch like the lick\nI tell that bitch suck a dick\nI tell her swallow my kids\nI tell her swallow the jizz\nHopefully, she get the gist\nThe wordplay is way better than these other niggas\nI'm so smooth I could prolly fuck your mother nigga\nAfter that I may just double back and hit yo babysitter\nIn the paint like Shaquille O'Neal 'cause I babied niggas\nShake it up like earthquakes lil' Haiti nigga\nI'm not on XBOX, nah, you can't play me, nigga\n4:44 my gun like JAY-Z\nHuh, ahuh, this nigga crazy\nLookin' at my dad like, \"You made me?\"\nBitch, I made myself, is you crazy?, oof\nIs you crazy? You couldn't pay me to say that\nNigga couldn't pay me\nUh, uh-uh, uh\nI wanna keep goin' on this bitch\nUh-uh, uh, uh-uh, uh\nUh-uh, uh-uh, uh\nWestwood type shit\nI remember growin' up watchin' Westwood freestyles\nThinkin' I would be here one day\nI use to hope for it, dream for it, wish for it, pray for it\nLook what happened on a fuckin' Sunday\nI pull up on 'em like Makonnen and Drake with the choppa\n'Cause the club goin' up on a Tuesday\nIt's 2012 and this Glock when I up it you a Mayan\nI'ma end yo shit this is doomsday, ooh\nYeah, and that's some wordplay and this what I say\nI keep it three K like my name Andr\u00e9, uh, yeah\nAnd this some wordplay, and this some wordplay\nThis some, uh, this some, uh, this some, uh, this some\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nI don't wanna feel it if the feelin' is real\nI'm Matrix when I pop these Xannies, that's a limitless pill\nI'm dying to live\nFuck it I'ma live it again\nYo girl gave up the pussy, she gon' give it again\nAnd the crib prolly hittin' her friends\nGettin' it in, money in my pockets that I'm willin' to spend\nAt the door, knock knock, please lettin' 'em in\nI ball like a letterman hotter than a sweater then\nPull up on the scene choppa on me, the Beretta twin\nAnd your head like barrettes make you shake like Tourettes\nRun up on me leave you left\nMatter fact intercept, take a sec\nBreaking bad with this shit, Crystal meth\nFreestyle off the dome, I don't write, too exciting\nTold you I'm the man and these hoes really like it\nMy bitch strapped up but no she not dyking\nRun up, that's okay, you gon' die from the fire\n.40 on my hip, boy, I don't live a lie\nTreat you like you Christ, with the shit crucified, huh\nYeah, you get crucified\nI don't fuck with shit so I ain't gettin' scrutinized\nI'm high as a bitch\nI'm fly as a bitch\nYou girl, gon' fuck her she goin' bye in the bitch\nRun up on me, that's okay, 'cause you gon' die in the bitch\nClick-clack, pow-pow, homicide in the bitch\nFreestyle off the dome I won't lie in this bitch\nFuck a pen and a pencil I won't write in this bitch\nFeel like the Buddha or something\nI'm enlightened and shit\nFeel like I'm lightning or something\nHow I'm strikin' and shit\nOff the dome when I'm kickin' and spittin' the flows, ho\nPull up on the scene freeze it, I call it a snowglobe\nMatter fact I'm on cold and colder than Ozone\nColder than Frozone, Colder than Ozone\nI freeze up the Ozone\nWalkin' yo hoes home, my dick in yo hoes dome\nFuck is you on\nI am chillin' in the green like a bunch of croutons\nGettin' top from a bad bitch on a Futon\nI remember days I used to skip school to crack cars\nAnd crack bars and went too far off the Xan bars\nI forgot them days, I still remember 'em\nMy life is so cold, sometimes I December it\nThen again it switches up to the point where I ember it\nHot and these niggas be jealous, see how they envy it\nPull up on the scene, my choppa too close to me\nI guess our relationships intimate\nI close my eyes so I can lock in\nTourist with the Glizzy, I call her the Glock twin\nTry the judge a nigga, I told 'em they Cochran\nI won't fuck the bitch but she wanted my cock in\nI pull up to the scene my head is noddin'\nOff the lean chillin', I'm Speaker Knockin'\nRest in peace man, that shit was horrible, uh\nLook at that bitch, her ass adorable, uh\nI just made explorer, I feel like Dora, ho, uh\nI was on the scene spittin' metaphoricals, uh\nWhat I said in that one song\nA black black, a white bitch, a black bitch\nThat's a Oreo, uh\nGot the shit sealed like a fuckin' envelope, uh\nPull up on the scene with the choppa let it go, uh\nI'ma hunt 'em down like his ass a antelope, uh\nTote cold with the ice it's a eskimo, uh, uh, uh\nHad to let 'em know, uh\nLoad it up, I let it breathe, I let it go, uh\nFucked the bitch, I let it be, I let her go, uh\nUh-uh, uh\nSwitch up the beat gang\n\nUh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh\nWestwood shit\nYeah, warmed up and shit\nJet lag shit\nRepresent Chicago, yeah, uh\nSometimes I feel like I'm the worst\nThis talent is a gift and a fuckin' curse\nThis choppa to take you out the fuckin' Earth\n'Specially if you walkin' on my fuckin' turf\nI feel like Ferg how a nigga put in work\nR. Kelly with the nina I'ma make it flirt\nChoppa like a candy make the shit starburst\nLook up in the sky, do the stars work?\nI'm thinkin' that I need Percs\nMy mom said that's a damn shame and I need work\nShe say, \"Fuck that shit, I need church\"\nI said, \"Fuck that shit, the church need work\"\nAnd that's real\nI'm happy so it's time to take some mad pills\nI'm happy so it's time to take some sad pills\nFuck a bitch and put her voice up on the adlibs\nI'ma probably do that\n.40 on my hip, yeah, I'ma prolly shoot that\nBad bitch in my DMs I'ma prolly do that\nHit the gang up and let them run through that\nThis is off the top like waves in the durag\nI'll leave your eye blue black\nThat's just how we do that\nThat's just how we\nSpazin' on they ass do that shit all day\nRock Gucci and Louis but I dont fuck with Balmains\nOut the park like a muhfuckin' baseball game\nI'm Barack Obama with it I need all change\nShoot him in his face a couple times like a gun range\nCall of Duty with the uzi, this is not a gun game\nI run this shit like bolt nigga, no Usain\nI do thangs nigga, yeah, I do thangs\nOff the dome when I spit shit\nThis is not a written\nAnd these other niggas they be forgettin'\nThat I'm the best to ever fuckin' do this\nThese other niggas lookin' stupid\nBetrayin' they brothers, like who the fuck is you? Judas?\nWho the fuck put you to it?\nChoppa on my hip, I load it and put it through you\nCatch me listenin' to Green Day havin' a blue day\nWith a bad bitch sippin' on D'USS\u00c9\nShe'll go both ways, anything for foreplay\nThat's what I say\nThat's what I say, I'm so high of the Percs\nThey lookin' at me sideways\nI'm goin' 190, the wrong way on the highway\nTryna get my life straight\nCatch me drunk drivin' in the suburban\nWith a nigga, the bomb strapped on his chest and a turban\nI deserve it, I'm ballin' hard like I'm Julius Erman\nI meant Julius Erving\nI keep sippin' the bourbon mix it with the syrup turn to a serpent\nOne things for sure, two things for certain they blow like Kurtis\nMy flow close curtains\nYour flow ain't workin'\nSo nigga keep on searchin'\nI'm sure one day you'll find that person\nEverybody talking Lucid Dreams\nBut most these niggas don't even know Lucid mean\nMost of these bitches be really fuckin' losin' me\nEeny meeny miny moe, these hoes get to choosin' me\nI remember when I ain't have shit\nThey was treatin' me like I ain't have shit\nThey was treatin' me like I was lower class\nThey was treatin' me like I was a savage\nNow they in my DMs tryna say\n\"Juice you can have it, come over grab it\"\nI dont wanna have it\nI let my bro cut it like he fuckin' stabbed it\nTaboe with the Glizzy how I'm jabbin'\nHow I'm jabbin'\nMan spendin' money is a bad habit\nBut I ball out with this shit, I'm a Maverick\nMake 'em disappear like magic\nCall a plan then I execute like Madden\nOff a flat in a bad bitch house\nTryna get it crackin' from the back end, yeah, hm\nYeah\nUh, uh, uh, uh, yeah\nUh, uh, uh, uh, yeah\nFresh off the jet\nFreestyle and shit\nEminem beats, 8 Mile and shit\nWhere I came from the great wild and shit\nWhere you would get shot if you crack smiles and shit\nAll my niggas goin' too hard and shit\nI'll pull your bitch like a card and shit\nHeard she for sale I'm bargainin'\nAt the door, I'm barging in\nYellow boned like Marge again\nI spread her out like margarine\nI just marchin' in\nFeelin' like a spartan kid\n\nSee how versatile I can get, uh-huh\nOkay, I'll say a few words on this\nOh... all fall from the... uh...\nOkay, look\nHigh as fuck, drunk as fuck\nIn the back of the car like what the fuck\nBad bitch at the crib, high as fuck off the drugs, suck me up\nI was high, not her, she was sober, tryna get a uppercut\nHit 'em in the stomach with the choppa 'til the fuck nigga had enough\nFreestyle shit that they take years to think up, that's true\nPull up on the scene, leave 'em inked up, choppa like a tattoo\nYou ain't know, she ain't know, he ain't know, nigga, I'm that dude\nMatter fact make you break your back like breakdance, old school\nFreestyle type to pull up, put the gun to your youth group\nMatter fact take a chain on your wrist, slave you up useful, hahaha\nHell yeah, yeah, bitch, I may use you\nBeat it up, beat it up, Mike Tyson I abuse you\nFlow gold, so cold like diamonds fuck that rose gold\n.40 on me, it'll sneeze, grab a Kleenex, got a bad cold\nPull up on him, hit him in his face twice, now he got a bad nose\nI'm the type to pull up on the scene full of shit like a asshole\nMy flow is so cold, my flow is so cold it's so cool\nThese niggas so lame, these niggas so old I'm so new\nPull up on the scene just me no guys I'm solo\nFeel like Kudi 'cause I'm still rockin' the Dolo\nBox all on my logo, your bitch, she a ho-ho\nStick on me, yeah, the stick on and it's super big, no homo\nNiggas talking that dumb shit hit 'em in his ears, no Dumbo\nNot in my house with a tumble, left-right, left-right, that's a combo\nI'ma serve it like cilantro, kill a nigga in his condo\nThen I fuck his bitch his condo, I hit this OG, let his mom know, huh\nI am the bomb, ho, I blow up just like a bomb, ho\nJust let your mom know, Juice he got that Osama flow, yeah\nI ain't ever gotta write, uh, I'm the shit to these niggas like, \"Damn\"\nDo I ever gotta wipe, yuh, pull up on 'em with the gun like, \"Damn\"\nThat nigga finna die, yeah\nI'ma overkill, overkill, probably shoot him like three times, yeah, ayy\nR.I.P. to my fallen ones, I just lost my brother, for real, uh\nI'm sick of lookin' at the news, I may lose another, for real, yuh\nEverybody keep on snitchin' on 'em, they ain't undercovers, for real, yuh\nIt's how I catch 'em lackin' sleepin' with each others under covers for real, yuh\nMan, shit gets real out here\nWithdrawal's a bitch, I've been takin' too many pills out here\nTryna live out here, no Advils, fucked the bitch on my adlibs\nSaid that twice 'cause shit is mad real\nMan, Westwood throw on some different shit\nI'm still rappin' on it 'cause I'm showin' the distance between me and these other niggas\nLike I said, I can fuck your mother nigga\nLike I said, I can fuck your babysitter\nLike I said, I'm here to baby niggas, for real\n\nHmm, that was interesting\nWhat's that genre called?\nUK drill, okay, uh\nIt kinda sound like Chicago drill though\nSound like some DJ L shit\nYou know DJ L? You heard DJ L? Yeah\nUh-uh, yeah\nLet's see how long I could rap\nLet's see how long they could act\nI was just up in the trap\nI had my gun in my lap\nI shoot a nigga like crabs\nI shake up, I don't do dab\nRun up on me then I run up on him with that chopper he hittin' the lab\nI add it up I add the bodies up that is the aftermath\nUp in school he wanna fight, I beat him up after class\nThen I meet at the next class and beat him up after that\nI had the last laugh\nBombin' like Baghdad, where my dad at?\nGuess he a bad dad, that was his last chance\nI am the last man, they killed every one of my niggas\nI am the last man, this is the last stand, I got the big bands\nAyy, I could rap on anything, married to a wedding ring, yuh\nNeed a crown I been the king, yuh, niggas funny, Jerry Spring-yuh\nI don't got time for it, nuh, I just rock Tom Ford it, yuh\nPull up on him, god damn, I'ma up the odd got a nine for it, yuh\nI feel like a chiropractor when I get it crackin' I'ma crack a spine\nI'm a fuck a bitch so good, she gon' let me hit it from behind, yuh\nMatter fact I pull up on you wit' a chopper to yo brain and change your mind, yuh\nI'm at the top of the top, but it's still more to climb, yuh\nI change the climate, pull up on him I'm shining\nTwo-tone skeleton A.P on the way rolly diamonds\nNiggas talkin' down to me, but all this niggas under me\nActin' like some pirates, 'cause they tryna rob and plung-e me\nBut I ain't got no time, I just got my 40, and I got your shawty\nOff of the molly, up in the party, she actin' naughty\nI tell her sorry I cannot fuck, I wanna play her like an Atari\nI just may borrow her to go to Paris, coolin' with Bari, yuh\nVlone on me, uh, yeah, Revenge on me, yuh, ayy, that's your homie\nI may kill him fuck your homie, yuh, ayy, that's by my lonely\nOnly wanted me no cloney, I can't fuck her if she not thick, 'cause I really\nDon't fuck with the boneys\nYeah, hm\nFuck 12, I don't fuck wit' the police\nThese niggas, fake friends, hatin', thinkin' that they know me\nI got the force like Obi-Wan, last name Kenobi\nCourse I'm with a white bitch, still catching the nose bleeds\n\nOh, ayy, aight bet\nThat's my shit\nThis beat hard as fuck\nWhat that nigga Blocboy say? You come Hell, hahaha\nFrom the Chi, from the Chi, look alive\nI've been working like a damn nine-to-five all my life\nPut my dick in your wife\nDouble back, hit it twice\nRun up on me, that's okay, you a pussy, get shot nine times\nI'm in the cut with a super soaker, run up on me and you know it's over\nAll of my niggas they doin', doin' the work like they doin' homework\nAll of my niggas be whippin' the work\nProbably selling it at church\nRun up on me you get murked\nI'ma put you in a hearse\nAyy, ayy, they don't understand\nI got the upper hand\nPoppin' like rubber bands\nI may kill your friend, I may kill your man\nThen I may just fuck you on this track let's go to Japan\nI'm up in Tokyo coolin' like Uber, everywhere\nI may shoot him in broad day, I never care\nLook alive that shit bright, solar flare\nHome run, goin', gone, it's outta here, yeah, ayy\nMe and Westwood smokin' on the Backwood\nPre-rolled, filled it good that's a packed wood\nI may just pop some Perkies, I pray to God they workin'\nShit cut too deep surgeon, pull up on the scene I'll murk him\nTurn to a whole different person, flex on a bitch like Percules\nMatter fact call me Hercules\nSame ol' person, fuck on that bitch, she from Taiwana\nI cannot roll wood, with my marijuana\nI am not with the DJ, DJ Drama\nAndre with the cash, cash the commas\nLook alive, please look alive\n'Cause if you look too late fuck it then you may die\nI'm just coolin' trap house, skate on them niggas, no blackout\nI ain't with the flirtin' at all, but, bitch, I got the MAC out\nThat shit dead Bernie Mac now\nTell them niggas to calm down\nI feel like Osam now, fuck the shit I'm the bomb now\nI'm just vibin' on 'em, I'm just high tryna survive tryna-\nKeep this beat goin', I fuck with this shit\nLook alive, uh, look alive, uh\nJet lag but I still look alive, jet lag but I still look alive\nI only slept for a hour, that's on the plane\nBut I'm still here, lit as a bitch, these niggas be lame\nRun up on me then I'm snatching your life, and I'm snatching your chain, probably snatching your main\nI'm kickin' this shit like, off of the brain\nHalf of these niggas can't do it, half of 'em probably look stupid\nRun up on me then I do it, I got my hand on my toolie\nI use that bitch like a toilet, flush on that bitch, I enjoy it\nI just went on a voyage, yeah, I just went on a voyage\nThese shoes cost your mortgage\nI\u2014\nAyy, I definitely want to drop a remix to this shit, like officially, this beat hard as fuck\nAyy, ayy, look, these shoes cost your mortgage and these bitches imported, uh\nPull up on the scene I'll torch 'em, ball on them niggas full court\nWhippin' in the trap no fort, I need a sport\nI get some head from yo bitch 'cause I swear that bitch is a dork\nRun up on him with the chopper, I swear I'ma shoot 'em for real I don't show no remorse\nNah, I don't show no remorse, shoot 'em in his head of course\nThat's what we aim at, that's what we bang at\nNiggas switching over money that's where they change at\nI cannot change over change, bitch, I'm remaining the same\nI'm screaming fuck all the games, I'll put a shot through your gang\nI don't give a fuck what you say, I'm getting money all-day\nBall till I'm bald think I need a toupee\nCross the street, the bitch go both ways\nFreestyle shit no write, you couldn't pay me to write\nI got a .40 on my hip like damn, you niggas couldn't pay me to fight\nNiggas couldn't pay me to die, losin' too many niggas out this time\nWhat's Juice WRLD on? That nigga probably out his mind\nWell, look alive, do or die, free my nigga, he did the time\nHe ain't do the crime, don't believe me, I ain't lyin'\nI ain't tellin', die, switch up, switch up\n\nOkay, let's skate\nBad bitch finna come my way\nGoing 90 when I'm on the Highway\nCan't go high without the high, ayy\nEvery day I wake up, smoke another gram\nI don't give a fuck nor another damn\nI'm smokin' the kush from the Hoover Dam\nI'ma let these bitches know who I am\nI can make whole songs without messin' up\nGotta fess up, I feel like I'm next up\nBad lil' bitch in the car named Vanessa\nShe's a flexer and a sexta\nYeah, ayy, sext her and finesse her\nThen it's next, yuh, then it's next, yuh\nBow flex from the way this shit work out\nChoppa leave a nigga shaking like it's twerk out\nTyson, I may knock his lights out\nLike I said shawty strapped, she tryna dyke now\nRun up on me talkin' shit, you wanna die now\nChoppa workin' kinda like a 9 to 5 now\nSwitch the flow up\nDrinking Henny with the lean, until I throw up\nAlmost spent 2k on a bottle of some Henny\nI don't even drink that heavy, what the fuck gotten in me\nTotin' on the semi\nHardaway when I'm ballin' these niggas comparin' me to penny\nSpare change? Hell nah, keep the pennies\nBallin' hard fuck a jersey need a penny, yeah, ayy\nCaught a fat nigga lacking he was up at Denny's\nHe don't want smoke but we got plenty\nI'm on bullshit like Chicago, no Benny, uh\nI'm in London gettin' it jumpin'\nRun up on me and I'm uppin' the .40, uh, yeah it ain't nothin'\nAll of my niggas be makin' this money, no assumption\nI goin' fuck the bank until that horny bitch cummin'\nWatch a nigga vomit like I said my momma really think that I'm demonic\nMom let's be honest, it's money in my pockets\nI feel like a angel with these devil horns, stop it\nYou don't want no problems like Wayne said cool what's a goon to a goblin\nWhat's a God without a goddess, so I need me a goddess\nFuck being humble, shit, I'm done being modest\nNah, I'm playin', all this shit a blessin'\nCatch this chopper into yo intestines\nMic check, 1-2, testin'\nPull up on the scene slam wrestlin'\nMe and Westwood straight flexin'\nI just may drop a hundred on a necklace\nI just may drop a hundred on my next bitch\nFlexin' on the ex bitch, uh, I do that in private\nMy gun a librarian that bitch came with a silencer\nYes, I'm for the violence, I still want peace though\nYes I got a girlfriend these niggas do hoes\nPull up on the scene like kick shit like Judo\nI'm the type\u2014\nThat beat hard, I ain't never really listen to instrumentals, like you know like the instrumentals of the songs and shit? These bitches be hard\n\nPlug Walk\nYou know you ain't the plug, so how you make the plug walk, uh\nBoy, yo' plug ain't the plug of he tell you that the plug walk, uh\nFuck the cookies, I been smokin' on the kush Luke Skywalker, yeah\n2 grams to the face it'll make a nigga sky walk\nLean like a bitch, choppa on my hip I gotta beam in that bitch\nHeat you up and your team in that bitch, things ain't really what they seem in that bitch\nMe and Bibby gettin' busy in like every beat, I'm like Miami when I'm on the scene I always keep the heat\nNiggas must be virgins thinkin' they can fuck with me, wits about me luckily it's on me luckily\n.40 on me like Velcro it's stuck to me, keep it on my hip, holst it up comfortably\nFreestyle flows, they some wannabes\nBack in yo' bitch with the swiftness\nTaylor with the shit feel like swift, bitch\nPull up on the scene rockin' misfits\nEver since a kid I was a misfit\nStill did my damn thing, never gave a fuck\nNiggas talkin' stupid till I pull up make 'em duck\nChoppa kinda hungry, better heat him up for lunch\nBetter heat him up for lunch\nI'ma let it breath like a asthma attack\nCome and step to me if you gon' battle the rap\nI was on the scene with my Mac, yeah, my Mac\nShoot 'em in his chest now he asthma attack\nCardiac arrest like he MJ, R.I.P. he was the greatest what can I say\nBallin' on these niggas like MJ, you like an old play but you been played\nOutdated, all these niggas belated, belated, outdated, all these niggas belated\nLook, came in the game flexin' like I've been famous\nDamn, right like I been famous\n.40 on me got to shooting, bitch, I been aimin'\nNiggas false claimin' shit bitch I been bangin'\nTry me if you wanna, you don't want no smoke but I want it\nYou don't want no smoke don't condone it\nPull up on the scene of my opponents\nSpazz on they ass, run it like track\nShit so cold, run that shit back\nGot so much drive if I crash this shit, muhfucka, muhfuckas, may just catch whiplash\nMe and Westwood in the 'Rari where you at we shootin' up the party\nBad bitch and she rollin' off the Molly\nDreads on my head feel gnarly\nOG in the blunt Bob Marley\nDej Loaf with the shit don't try me\n.40 stick a nigga in his face, no IV\nSmoke a nigga like a blunt no eye ring\nFlow go so cray\nShout out to them Pirus, flow go so bray\nPull up to the scene with my hand on my K\nShoot a nigga in his face, fuck you have a nice day\nI just may hit the ice tray\nI just may hit up go that way\nI'ma roll-off on the Segway\nI'm takin' off these niggas on a drag race\nNiggas auto-tuning like they T-Pain\nNiggas workin' out they outta shape\nFuckin' with me cool you gon die today\nHell yeah, I'm gripping on my fire today\n\nRun up on me then you catchin' a funeral\nI scratch it off write it in Roman numerals\nI fucked that bitch in the back and I swear that I never loved her I just want to hit her\nI fucked that bitch now I'm hitting her sister\nRun up on me you get spin like a twister\nTold you before I don't fuck with these niggas\nI got my hand on on my hand on my trigger\nI'ma go get 'em, she on my dick hoppin', I'm callin' her tigger\nI tell her, \"Go figure\"\nShe suck through the tommy's, I'm talkin' Hilfiger\nTommy on me, I ain't talking Hilfiger\nThat bitch a gun\nRun up on me, I got heat like the sun\nCount up to two 'cause I am not the one, uh\nBetter locked up, Akon\nAll my other niggas they gone\nR.I.P. to all they souls, condolences to all they moms, uh\nThat's just how it is\nI'm in the bank, makin' it flip, talkin' that shit\nI hit yo bitch just like a lick\nI'm with the shits, I pass the 'Roc\nAin't no assist, bitch on my cock\nRun up on me then you get shot\nI feel like Bishop, I got the Juice, back when the cut, callin' it Pac, yuh\nI'm in the cut with the nina\nI'm wettin' it up like this shit Aquafina\nYou run up on me then I'm servin' 'em bullets like tennis balls\nNigga ain't talkin' Serena\nAll of my niggas get money for real\nI do money for shows, I cash out on arenas\nI take yo' bitch, fuck her\nSend to the cleaners\nRun up on me then I'm killin'\nI swear that my hand on my nina\nDon't want no smoke\nAll of these niggas ain't nothin' but jokes\nRun up on me like a.. like a Facebook post, lil' nigga, you poked, uh\nI'm a rich nigga, you broke, uh\nMust be a pimp, you a ho, yah\nRun up on me, let's go\nBaow, baow, baow, choppa on go (Wheezy outta here)\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nI'm finna catch myself, yeah, uh\nBreathe in and out, I had to catch my breath\nNow I'ma spaz on they ass\nI leave 'em leakin' on maxi pads\nHotter than a nigga in New York with a bag full of clothes tryna catch a taxi cab\nRun up on a nigga, that chopper blast\nTold you I cannot do battle rap\nFuck ass tryna battle, that shit kill\nShaquille, rim rattle that\nNiggas, they snitch, they tattle that\nSend that shit back, damn\nYou must be dope, bitch, I'm crack, yuh\nDamn, a couple of grams, to be exact, yuh\nShit I'm young, rich and black, yeah, yeah\nSo you know they hatin' that\nI'm finna spaz on they ass and you know it\nYou run up on me then I'm shootin', it's over\nI got a way with words, they call me a poet, damn\nRun up on me then I'm soaking\nThat .40 on me and you know that it's blowin', you know that I\u2019m towin'\nYour bitches are hoeing, you know that shit goin', uh\nI met that bitch on the lowin'\nI picked up on a high route, we smokin', huh\nHotbox in the new whip with a new bitch\nI don't even know her name, yah\nRun up on me, that's okay\nGot a AK on me, it's at your brain, yah\nI put my dick in your main, yah\nI just may go snatchin' chains, yah\nBring it back\nI sold that shit to the gang\nI sold that shit to the gang\nRun up I may snatch yo chain\nI sold that shit to the gang\nCan't you niggas see the difference\nEvery day I'm on a different shit\nI'm just tryna keep my distance, yuh\nI'm just tryna keep my distance, yuh\nFuck niggas can't get with it\nTransform like I'm Witwicky\nIn the new car, boy, I'm quick with it\nWith a white bitch and she still sniffin'\nFrom the shit I bought her last night\nJet lagged from the last flight\nScuffed up the pair of black Mikes\nThat I bought when I was up in L.A., huh\nSwitch it up, kinda like a sex change huh\n.40 on my hip like a gun range, uh\nPull up on a nigga like okay, huh\nMan down, bitch, no mayday, uh\nWestwood, I think I could rap forever\nI think I could rap forever\nNo matter where I'm at\nNo matter the continent\nI could probably rap wherever\nI could spit whatever, ahh\nProbably take a bitch wherever, ahh\nThey said them plays for the kid\nThey said to pick whenever\nI'ma go in one more time\nI drop that bitch like a dime\nShe fall in love with the words\nThen she fall in love with the lines\nYeah, there's a difference\nYeah, there's a diff\u2014\nFuck it, I'm just tryna catch a vibe\n\nOh\nI always f\u2014 like forget how the beginning of this song sound\nUh-huh, yeah\nUh\nUh, this one for the legend, uh\nI feel like a king, and these other niggas peasants, uh\nWe should take another nigga loss as a lesson, uh\nHopefully, I'm finna meet these niggas up in heaven, uh\nI feel like I'm lost in my mind sometimes, uh\nI feel like I'm dropped like a dime sometimes, uh\nI'm just trying to find out what's mine sometimes, uh\nI'm just trying to find out what's mine sometimes, uh, ayy\nI get lost in the sauce way too often\nUh, bought my soul back like I fuckin' sold it\nUh, ayy, huh, this shit cold, this shit scolding\nYuh, ayy, I wonder what happens when my life over\nSometimes I think it's coming up\nI think they runnin' up\nSo yes, I'ma keep my .40 tucked\nI cannot go out, I cannot go out\nI will not go out, I gotta show out\nI ball too hard on these niggas, it's a blowout\nYeah, it's a blowout\nUh, yeah, ayy\nSuicide if you try to take my drugs\nSuicide if you try to take my drugs\nSuicide if you try to take my drugs\nHomicide, baby, would you hold my gun?\nSuicide if you try to take my drugs\nLive a lie, look at all the shit you've done, uh\nSuicide if you try to take my drugs\nHomicide, go on and hold my gun\nSpecify, all the lies you've told\nLook at me, what am I on?\nPercy, Molly, Xanny, all that shit, in one mix\nI'm so high that I cannot remember to forget\nMatter of fact, let's just take a sec\nRest in peace to the niggas that left\nRest in peace to the niggas that left\nAnd praise all the niggas that's left\nI feel like I'm up in my prime\nBut who am I gon' share my prime with?\nWho am I gon' share my time with?\nSometimes it's just perfect timing\nSinging like I'm CeCe Winans\nDamn, this shit's unwinding\nYuh, yeah, yeah, ayy\nSuicide if you try to take my drugs\nHomicide if you try to rob my plug, ayy\nHomicide if you try to take my gun\nI'ma hit a lick like I smack that tongue, yeah\nSuicide if you try to take my drugs\nHomicide if you try to rob my plug\nHomicide if I'm reaching for my gun\nI'm not the one, I'm not the one, ayy\nR-I-P\nI'm sad, I know, yeah\nI'm sad, I know, yeah\nI'm not the one, yeah\nI'm not the one, yeah\n\nShit\nUh, it's been a long time comin'\nBut I'm still here\nEverybody talking 'bout they numb or something, wait\nCan you feel here\nAll this fake shit around me is this some real here\nAll this sober shit around me is there some pills here\nFor real, I need to know\nI need to know\nMy mama tell me that I need to let 'em go\nShe say the syrup in these pills finna kill me\nBut sometimes I think it brings out the real me\nSometimes I think it brings out the concealed me\nSometimes I think it exposes and reveals me\nSo what happens when the real meets the real\nWhat happens when Juice meets the pills\nUh-uh-uh, yeah\nWestwood shit\nI'm up in London\nGettin' it bussin'\nAin't no discussion, run up on me then I'm drummin'\nMy choppa sick or something\nLike it was drunk I up it it'd start to vomit, ooh\nThat's a bar\nLookin' at my watch like that's a star, huh\nLookin' at my spaceship like that's a car, huh\nLookin' at my pills, them Xanny bars, nah\nIn 2016 I was poppin' them Xannies\nNow I'm in Percies\nLastin' forever in panties\nRun up on me goin' harder than granite\nSit down muhfucker 'cause I know you can't stand it\nOutlandish, I'm gorilla in the mesh\nYou just a Kung Fu Panda\nI ain't sippin' clean nothin', this some dirty Fanta\nWith a bitch on my lap like my first name Santa\nYou get jacked like a pumpkin, no O'Lantern, uh\nVVS on my ring like the Green Lantern you gon' kiss it like a Mafia king\nI'm a boss, that's a Mafia thing\nYeah, I did it\nMom, I made it\nFrom goin' to physics class, to\nTourin' the world, shittin' on everybody, the world is my potty\nI'm shitting on every posse\nAnd I don't even got a team like that\nI aim with my eye, I don't need a beam like that\nRun up on me, choppa make you sing like that\nMake you march like Martin Luther King, in fact\nI'm blacked, and excellent\nI'm shittin' on these niggas, this is a excrement\nI rapped on another beat that's some extra shit\nYou niggas gon' have to deal with the mess of it\nI thought I told yo ass not to mess wit' it\nI see this shit before I say it, telepathy\nIt's like I talk to my conscious, I say what it's tellin' me\nAnything besides money, eh, it's kinda irrelevant\nI can't focus without codeine, my medicine\nI sip it until I'm slurrin' and spittin' impediments\nI'm ballin' to the point where I think I need a Letterman\nWestwood at the gates of London, he just had to let 'em in\nI'm here, spazzin' on every single track he pass\nYou run up, I leave you leakin' on a maxi pad\nI'm ballin', hard, these other niggas on the bench\nI swear, they need to stay where they at\nNigga, I'm takin' over the world, a map for a map\nI'm off of a ecstasy pill, that's a flat for a flat\nI'm up to bat, throw a fastball, it's a hit\nI hit a lick, then I hit a hit on yo' bitch, I don't miss\nListen, I heard yo' bitch on my hit list, I hit that bitch, then I'm dippin'\nYou run up on me, I'm shootin', that choppa on me is spittin'\nMy wordplay is amazing, my flow is so brazy, huh\nI'm shakin' shit up like I said, no Haiti\nThis is freestyle shit, it's authentic\nMy flow, it burns niggas careers is arsenic, uh\nMy flow badder than bad women\nI rock shows like Kravitz and John Lennon\nYo sins ain't forgivin'\nI'm the rap God, call me Juice Allah\nDid I take it too far?\nDid I take two bars, to get on Mars?\nTo more like Dubai, hold on\nI got a little tongue twisted, but I'm still gifted\nStill spittin', still rippin' writtens\nThis premonition is really killin' it\nAnd these niggas ain't shit\nBut Civics, me I'm Bentley\nGet it, bitch\nDon't you forget it\nThe shit that you talking, I really lived it, uh\nI sold my soul then bought it back, I finessed 'em, uh\nYou run up on me, choppa holy it'll bless 'em, uh\nHe talking stupid 'til they shoot him, that's my weapon, uh\nI got a couple of bars I could spit\nMaybe I'll just use 'em in this shit\nOr maybe I'll just use 'em in a skit\nMy first guess, they wanted shit\nMy next project, it's gon' be harder\nMy arm in the rim, really, I feel like Vince Carter\nI'm at yo head nigga, I feel like a barber\nYou on the bench nigga, and I am a starter\nI die for my shit nigga, feel like I'm a martyr\nMy shit's off the charts\nYou run up, that's okay, you catch a hole to your heart\nI put that on my life, and that shit come from the heart\nI'm freestyling on live, that's how it is\nYo bitch swallow the kids\nShe up in my crib, I'm tellin' you how it is\nMan, this rap shit serious like XM, huh\nI ex them, huh\nI fuck the bitch that he's next to, uh\nShe hangin' out, fuck her curfew, uh\nYou my son, lil' nigga, I birthed you\nBut I shine, like the pair of them church shoes\nI ain't been to church in a long time, 'cause they all lies\nAll the legends, where they at? They all die\nWell, I don't wanna be a legend up in my prime\nBut, I know it's still prime time\nStars, how I shine\nWhen they align with the planet, you know some shit is goin' on\nI transform like Omegatron when my favorite song is on\nFuckin' that bitch like the Ramadan\nMan, I spit shit\nSo cool\nI breakdance shit like the old school\nI'm never runnin' out of energy, I'm a suspect grippin' this firearm in your vicinity\nTry me if you want, 'cause I swear it's not gon' end cool\nI'ma prolly pull up to your cruel like, \"Where the fuck is you?\"\nCock it back and then I shoot\nW-W-W, I can't lose\nAyy, I flew from London to Chicago\nMoney in my pockets, I may get a Murci\u00e9lago\nThat's all that I know\nShout out to my kinfolk, they know I'm totin' ammo\nIn the streets they call me Rambo, ain't no peace where I'm from\nBut these pieces, we tote 'em, you run up on me it's over\nLike a cig, we gon' smoke 'em\nI put yo ass in a coma\nSmokin' kush, this aroma, leave yo ass in a coma\nBallin' out like I'm Odom before the crack, don't you get it?\nSpittin' crack on these niggas, define niggas like physics\nShut the fuck up and listen, I'm ballin' hard like a Piston\nNigga this shit's enlisted just like a army, lil' nigga\nI swear to god I'm invincible you can't harm me lil' nigga, yeah\nI'm talkin' to you\nI sent you my address a couple weeks ago, you ain't come through\n'Cause you know we was gon' leave yo ass dropped like a sunroof on a new coupe\nHaha, I talk a lotta shit\nBut it all means something\n\nHe pullin' out hella beats, cool\nThis shit sound hard, there's some soul to this shit\nShit, bat\nYour bitch miss me like the old Kanye\nThat's what she say\nIt's not what I say\nThat's what she say\nI'm early to the money I can never be late\nAlways good I always been great\nThese niggas ain't straight, they always been gay\nNo offense, no offense\nPlease don't proceed to hop up on my dick\nHaha, man\nListen how the flow go\nOuter space I'm ballin' like I'm shootin' up on Pluto\nTalkin' stupid to me 'til I pull up let the tool blow\nEmperor new school, call me Juice Kuzco\nKnown to flip this shit and kick it like I'm knowing Judo\nThat's just how it goes though\nIf I touch the world I told you that shit is a snow globe\nThat's just how my flow is\nLiving in the moment\nYour bitch swallow my kids\nI can say that in a million different ways\nI can break it down, a million different phrases\nLook at all my songs on the playlist\nIt's evident that I'm your bitches favorite\nI ain't even have to say it\nI ain't even have to say it\nThey just left my blood on the pavement\nNow I gotta come back gotta slay 'em\nNigga what the fuck you thought you was saying?\nRun up on me, that's okay, I AK 'em\nI could freestyle shit for hours\nYour bitch super wet, fresh out the shower\nI fly in that bitch like superpowers\nYou goofier than a bitch, lil' Austin Powers\nMan, but I'm still feelin' groovy\nI fuck your bitch in the back of the movies\nI'm in the cut and I'm totin' a uzi\nIt got a clip, shoot a movie like Clooney\nYou gotta problem nigga you can come and suit me\nShe Paul Wall 'cause she wanna chop and screw me\nHuh, she wanna chop and screw me\nI'm like a book to her, she gon' renew me\nUh, look, I spent your allowance, on, a pair of shoes\nUh, I spent your mortgage, on a pair, of cars\nYeah, two matching Lambos\nUp in Toronto, gon' let your mom know\nI got that bomb flow, I'll fuck your mom, ho\nI feel like, uh, feel like Osama\nI don't really know where to start I got a heavy heart\nChoppa on me, I'ma shoot it tear his ass apart\nAnd that's just what it is\nFreestyling on Westwood, you know that we get it in\nI ain't come here with no shit written, nah\nI ain't come here with no shit written, nah\nSo I'm off the dome, jet lag kicking\nDoin' the best that I can for my niggas, yeah\nAyy, Westwood, we should go shoppin'\nI got about twenty thousand dollars in my pocket\nI'm tryna buy Balenciagas, no posits\nBuy it all, no deposits\nIf I need more cash, let's hit Chase then make a withdrawal\nYou know I got it\nInterscope got me livin' a lil' proper\nI'm hoping that I prosper\nMy gun is finna sing, that's an Opera\nThese niggas acting, I think they need a Oscar\nTherapy or something, what's they problem?\nI'm sick of being modest\nI'm like Future at the end of the day, I'm just being honest\nMan, I rapped on like seventy beats\nNiggas gon' go back and listen to me\nBitches prolly gon' get wet, damn near pissin' to me\nOn twitter, mentioning me wishing they were with me\nSome niggas against me, some niggas don't get me\nSome niggas won't hit me\nBut that's cool, 'cause I'm cool\nYeah, I'm bool, fuck what you do\nI pull up with that chopper, stick his ass like voodoo\nI'm the shit up on the niggas like a bunch of doodoo, haha\n\nMan, man\nLet's go buy some cars or something\nI know you got it, you a legend\nWhere your Tesla at, nigga, I know you got it"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsForever Lyrics\nYeah\nI want us forever\nI want you forever, I want this forever\n(DRMZ, you a fool for this one)\nI love you, listen\n(Forever in my mind, only you)\n(The pieces in my life, go away with you) I really care for you\n(Forever in my mind, only you) I really do\n(The pieces in my life) Listen (Go away with you)\n(Forever in my mind)\n\nForever, forever\nShe stay on my mind like forever, forever\n(Forever, forever) For worse or for better\nI'm willing to fight for her heart, it's a pleasure\n(I really am) Hope she get the message\nI swear she a angel, that's word back to Heaven\n(That's word to God) Man, fuck all the stressing and fighting\nI want you forever, forever\n(I want you forever) I'm writing these verses\nRehearse it, record it and play it at your request\n(And play it at your request) I feel like it's us two forever\nBut I think that we just don't know it yet\n(Don't think that we know it yet) I swear life is a bitch\nI'ma toss it a bone, 'cause I feel like it's playing fetch\n(I feel like it's playing fetch) You keepin' my heart or you tossin' it\nBaby, I know I hate playing catch (You know I hate playing catch)\nForever, forever\nSay that no matter no weather (Right)\nHeart getting colder than winter\nBut I say no matter the weather, and don't you forget it (Right)\nI look at love and then have all these questions (Right)\nI look at you and then get all these answers (Right)\nFuck all these hoes, can you please mind my manners? (Right)\nMonkey around, 'cause you drive me bananas (Right)\nYou put the nails to my hammer\nWithout you, I'm deadly, like cancer, think of your answer\nI feel like it's us and the planet, and, baby, I'm not being antsy\nI'm just hoping you understand me\nLook what you do to me, this is so crazy\n(Yeah) I'm happy to call you my lady\n(Yeah) I'm happy to say we together\nAnd I hope this shit last forever, forever, yeah\nYou might also like\nForever in my mind, only you\nThe pieces in my life, go away with you (Yeah)\nForever in my mind, only you\nI love you\nThe pieces in my life, go away with you\nI hope you feelin' this as much as I am\nForever in my mind, only you\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nThe pieces in my life, go away with you\n(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nForever in my mind, only you\nIt's really crazy how I feel about you\nThe pieces in my life, go away with you\nThis one finna' get personal though, check\n\nI'm losin' my mind\nI'm losin' my mind, you drivin' me crazy\n(I'm goin' insane) The shit we got into\nThe shit that we been through, shit, life is amazing\n(I swear, life is amazing) I'm not going nowhere\nYou not going nowhere, so baby, just face it\nYou're perfectly perfect for me\nBaby, I'm able to actually give you this label, my queen\nGirl, you deserve it\nWe been through our bullshit, but girl, it was worth it\nI found Mrs. Right, I can't do no more searchin'\nFuck all the clownin', shit, this not a circus\nI love for a reason, I love for a purpose\nWasn't an accident, this is on purpose\nPut that on God, I can't do no more merchin' (No)\nDon't turn your back, I can't take no more hurtin' (No)\nBaby, I swear your love get me the highest\nI look down below, and I think that I'm flying (Yeah)\nBut really I'm falling, falling in love with you (Yeah)\nGirl, it's because of you, girl, you the finest (Yeah)\nSearching for love, and you just helped me find it (Yeah)\nLet's leave the bullshit and garbage behind us (Yeah)\nFuck the mistakes, let's not let them remind us\n'Cause we at the top, and let's do some more climbing\nGirl, at this point, I'm pretty sure now you know just what you do to me\nThis shit that's new to me, girl\nFinding my way through this jungle of life, and it's foolery\nSo just get used to me, girl\nI'm new to relationships, usually, girls be abusing me\nThey just be using me, girl\nThis got me thinking forever, no matter, no weather\nThat it's gon' be you and me, girl (Yeah)\nForever in my mind, only you\nYeah\nThe pieces in my life, go away with you\nYeah\nForever in my mind, only you\nYeah, yeah\nThe pieces in my life, go away with you\nAnd that's how I feel, for real\nForever in my mind, only you\nThe pieces in my life, go away with you\nI love you\nForever in my mind, only you\nThe pieces in my life, go away with you\nI love you\nForever in my mind"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olT\u00fcrk\u00e7e\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439ItalianoFran\u00e7aisNederlandsHurt Me Lyrics\nEnviyon on the mix\n\nTurned to a whole different person, drive my whip\nCrash my whip, off the drugs, I'm swervin'\n\nSticks and stones may break my bones\nBut the drugs won't hurt me, the drugs won't hurt me\nEx-girlfriend keeps calling my phone\nBut the bitch can't hurt me, so I'm not worried\nAll alone, did it on my own\nSo I show no mercy, I show no mercy\nWith my bros, but I got my pole screaming\n\"Please don't urge me, please don't urge me\", yuh\n\nScreaming, \"Please don't urge me\"\nAnd fuck these hoes, all they do is irk me\nI smoke my dope and I pop my perky\nAnd lock my phone 'cause these hoes be lurking, yuh\nYeah, these hoes be lurking\nA bad lil' bitch with her hips so curvy\nI drive my whip, off the drugs, I'm swervin'\nShe ride my dick, off the drugs, she swervin', woah\nYou might also like\nTurned to a whole different person, drive my whip\nCrash my whip, off the drugs, I'm swervin'\n\nSticks and stones may break my bones\nBut the drugs won't hurt me, the drugs won't hurt me\nEx-girlfriend keeps calling my phone\nBut the bitch can't hurt me, so I'm not worried\nAll alone, did it on my own\nSo I show no mercy, I show no mercy\nWith my bros, but I got my pole screaming\n\"Please don't urge me, please don't urge me\", yuh (Yuh)\n\nTurned to a whole different person, drive my whip\nCrash my whip, off the drugs, I'm swervin'"}
{"text":"Forever is a long, long time from tonight (Oh-ooh)\n\nWhen it's dark outside, you're always the\u2005light\u2005(Oh, yeah)\nThis heart\u2005of mine was once cold as\u2005the ice (Oh-oh), oh-oh\nThe more I try, the more I\u205fopen\u205fmy\u205fmind\nFor you to\u205ffind the demons\u205fhidin' deep inside\n\nI owe fines, the devil say I owe him for life\nBut I could feel it, I got God on my side\nRemember when He sent you to me that night\nI had to cuff you up like a cop on a heist\nCupid is the judge, so I must testify\nI won't move or budge, I'll stand by you for life\nAll my life, when you die is when I die\nI sometimes wonder why\nWe argue and fight\nAnd quickly make things right\nIt's probably 'cause we gotta grow more over time\nWouldn't be real love without rough nights\nCan't feel these drugs, but I feel your eyes\nWhen you look at mine, things feel alright (Oh-oh)\n\nWhen it's dark outside, you're always the light (Oh, yeah)\nThis heart of mine was once cold as the ice (Oh-oh), oh-oh\nThe more I try, the more I open my mind\nFor you to find the demons hidin' deep inside\nYou might also like\nBeen through it, I don't really wanna get into it\nThrowin' out your heart to break mine, so I won't do it\nAlso, baby, you're my lifeline, you're a influence\nAll the times you was mad, I was over under the influence\nI feel sorry for the people that don't get it\nIt's really rare that you feel the real love feelin'\nSome people get hurt and never love again\nSome people get hurt and give the drugs a binge\nSome people get dressed and go and hit the club to mend\nThere's no love in one-night stands, but you can play pretend\nAnd me, I may admit it\nAll of these hoes, one thing that's pretentious\nAnd if I know one thing, then I know this\nIt's us forever, worse or better, no discussion, that's how I'm comin' (Oh-oh)\n\nWhen it's dark outside, you're always the light (Oh, yeah)\nThis heart of mine was once cold as the ice (Oh-oh), oh-oh\nThe more I try, the more I open my mind\nFor you to find the demons hidin' deep inside\n\n(808 Mafia)"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsJuice WRLD Hour Freestyle of Fire Over Eminem Beats Lyrics\nYo, it's TimWestwoodTV, up at Capital Xtra\nGot my man Juice WRLD in the building\nIt's time to shut down the city again\nLast freestyle: epic, crazy numbers, biggest freestyle of the year\nWe're about to go in\nThis time, nothing but Eminem beats\nUnderstand what's about to go down:\nThe next hour, the world is yours, let's do it\nIt's live? Already?\nCool, uh-huh\nI'm back on Westwood, bitch\nHuh\nFreestyle king, I'ma do my thing\nMarried to the game, I'ma need a ring\nRun up on me, that chopper sing\nBrand new bitch, that's a brand new ting\nBroke up with my bitch, now she my side bitch\nText me on my side-kick, huh, yeah\nShe gon' keep the strap in her purse like a dyke bitch\nRun up, she fire shit, uh, yeah\nNigga, just lose it, niggas be faker than optical illusions\nRun up on me, that chopper skip to conclusions\nI don't give a fuck with your bitch, I'ma do her\nPaul Wall with her, I'ma chop her and screw her, uh\nBrand new money\nRun up on me, chopper hoppin' like a bunny\nI don't walk it, I run it, keep it one hundred\nHeadshot, headshot, drive-by in a Hummer, Goddamn\nJust lose it, uh\nMake love then make music, uh\nRun up, chopper do 'em\nWaka Flocka, \"O Let's Do It,\" uh\nOff of the top, I be kickin' it\nHop on my dick like a frog, you be ribbitin', uh\nLook at the way I be rippin' it, drillin' 'em\nLike I be full of adrenaline, uh\nSick of the Percs, I'ma put them down, huh\nRun up on me, that chopper marry your ass like you got a gown on\nGuess you a pussy now, huh?\nHa, ha, yeah, yeah, yeah, guess you a pussy now, uh\nKeep this beat goin', mhm\nI'ma spazz for a second\nI'ma get up on they ass for a second\nChopper on me, it's gon' blast for a second\nI'ma shoot him in his ass, I'm reckless\nDo it big like football, Texas\nI'ma ball out like the Texans\nBitches pay me like taxes\nOn the mattress, hittin' backflips\nRide me, carpet, Aladdin\nOuterspace, boolin' on Saturn\nGive a fuck what you say, I don't really care about nothin' but the money I manage\nHoes on me, they wanna fuck too, though\nOuterspace, I been poolin' on Pluto\nBad bitch, huh\nHot like a motherfucker hit the bitch up in June, woah, ayy, ayy\nSummertime sadness\nOff the Xan', tryna figure out what's up though\nBad bitch, uh, tryna fuck though\nKeep it on the low, I don't wanna know, ho\nVVS on my wrist, no snowglobe\nIncredibles, feelin' like Frozone\nI'ma probably put dick in your ho dome, uh-huh, uh-huh\nIn your ho's home, uh-huh, uh-huh\nI been rappin' all day, that's normal though\nI'm an alien, goddamn, an abnormal ho\nPull up on 'em, chopper make it rainstormin', ho\nHot like a motherfuckin' global warmin', ho\nThen again, I'm colder than a freezer\nFuck your bitch, I'll leave her\nDragon Ball, Frieza\nPull up on the scene, my chopper got a fever\nHand on my heater, kick it like FIFA, uh, yeah\nHot like a Cheeto, fast like a cheetah\nRun up, I get 'em, uh, yeah\nChoppa like Jesse White the way I up the bitch and it flip 'em, uh, yeah\nSpazz on they ass all day though\nI was in the cut killin' people like Tadoe\nWorld in my hands, I'ma treat it like Play-Doh\nI'm full of shit, I'm a rich ass a-hole, huh\nYeah, just lose it, uh-huh, uh-huh-huh, just lose it\nBad bitch, look, the fuck are you doing?\nIf you ain't gettin' naked then I'm not gon' screw it, uh-huh, uh\nJust lose it\nDon't make love, make music\nHuh, just lose it, uh\nDon't make love, make music, huh\nPill pop, molly in the party\nBad bitch wanna fuck, I got off the Bacardi\nRun up on me, I'ma hit 'em, chopper crackin' like Pilates\nI ain't ever give a fuck, motherfucker, catch a body\nI was in the cut with a bitch from Tacoma\nSmoking on pack, you can smell the aroma\nYoung ass nigga but they think that I'm older\nHachoo, bless you, my flow too colder\nWorld on my shoulders, feel like a boulder\nRun up on me, I told you that it's over\nChopper get to doin' motherfuckers like it's homework\nClip stickin' out like a motherfuckin' boner\nThis is my flow, it's not a motherfucking loaner\nOnly one of me, ain't no motherfucking cloners\nBallin' on these hoes like Adrian, Adrian\nKnock 'em out, lil' nigga, like Adrien Broner, uh\nLook at the way that I ball on these hoes\nIn the back of the club, mm, mm\nI got blue faces up in my pockets, I'm not throwin' no dubs, mhm\nHeart out my chest, I put that in the grave\nI ain't showin' no love, mhm\nI am not talkin' 'bout snails, shoot like Tony Snell with slugs, mhm\nYeah, spazz, I'ma spazz on they ass\nUh, leave a nigga in the past\nUh, do it for the quick cash\nUh, it's a big ass gun\nMm, so you better get back\nMm, your boyfriend broke, baby, I don't think you could fix that\nUh, haha, yeah\nOld broke-ass nigga\nHit the bitch from the back, that's a no ask, nigga\nHuh, already know, ass-nigga\nRun up on me, chopper on me, I'ma blow, ass-nigga\nWalk around like I don't even know that nigga\nBoppin' on the bitch like Kodak, nigga\nUp, down, left, right, cheat code that nigga\nHaha, hahahaha\nBro, I said, \"Up, down, left, right, cheat code that nigga,\" boy\nThat mean I got cheat codes\nGuns sing like the leader of the Glee show\nBAPE on the cape, no, I'm not a hero\nVVS cold, no subzero\nGettin' money like Robert De Niro\nFuck with me, you get jacked like Sparrow\nI'll put you out your sorrow\nYou won't live to see tomorrow\nShootin' your Monte Carlo up\nMy shoes, they cost your car note\nI am not tryna brag, but you know I got the quatros\nThe pesos, anana, nn-nana, hahaha\nUh-huh, uh-huh\nYou might also like\n999, 999, uh\n999, uh, uh-huh\nUh, uh-huh-nuh-nuh\nWe on the Eminem wave today\nLast time I was here, I rapped for an hour\nA fucking hour\nUh, ain't no competition, I'm not worried\n.30 on me, Stephen Curry\nSippin' dirty with a bitch that give me head just like she nerdy\nI been shootin', Larry Birdy\nIn that bitch like a surgeon\nPut my dick in her throat, she get to regurgitatin', uh, hahaha\nIgnorant, yes, that's me, uh\nCatch a nigga like a taxi\nUsain Bolt, run this shit just like a track meet, uh\nFlexin' up on 'em like an athlete, mm\nFuck nigga, you cannot surpass me, uh\nThat's your bitch, well why is Juice WRLD tatted all over her ass cheek, ya dig? Ha\n\nOoh, yeah, that's what\u2014\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nMy name is\nI said hi, my name is gun, I'm aiming\nThese niggas are ass, anus\n.40 aimin', leave 'em brainless\nTote my stainless, fuck is you sayin'?\nI'ma dye my hair blonde, Super Saiyan\nRuthless with this gun, shoot it, slayin'\nSprayin', leave 'em on the pavement\nJackie Chan kush, bitch, I'm feeling like an Asian\nAsian persuasion\nRun up, then I'm blazing\nIn this fucking Bathing Ape blazer, amazing\nI'm up in that new thang\nFeeling like I'm Bruce Wayne\nKickin' shit like Liu Kang\nSicker than some flu game\nJordan on me, flu game, nigga\nSixty points on 'em on that flu game, nigga\nLook at the way that I do thangs\nI'm with my clan like Wu-Tang, every day we hustling\nWant a Lamborghini, remember dreamin' about a Mustang\nNow I'm 'bout my next thang\nNow I'm 'bout my next thang\nBlue face in my pocket, I ain't worried 'bout no chump change\nI can hit your block and then I turn it to a gun range\nCall of Duty closet, boy, that shit look like a gun game\nI just had to dread my hair because I couldn't maintain\nNow a nigga wildin', feeling like a rasta\nChoppa like guitar, get to strummin' like a rockstar\nI'm sipping lean out the cup, I'm such a Wockstar\nI put this .40 to your head and then I pop it\nI'm so violent, chopper with a silence\nOptimus Primin'\nTransform on your ho to fuck her for perfect timing\nRollie change colors like the climate\nDiamonds on my neck, best believe them bitches shining\nI left my chains at the hotel, I hate jewelry\nI wear it just so I can participate in the foolery\nYou got a problem with me? I'ma pull up with this chopper\nI'll shoot you and your father, put an end to your eulogy, uh\nClip hold a hundred, kinda like a centipede\nTwenty-one left in that Glock, I'll shoot it out the century\nI'm schooling niggas like it's fucking Elementary\nProlly fucking these bitches and fucking 'em up mentally\nNow, that's just me\nWestwood, you know we gettin' cash, right?\nBad bitch, she gon' shake her ass, right?\nI'm like, \"Damn baby, where you from?\nWhat's your name? You familiar, did I meet you in a past life?\"\nI can give you all this money if you act right\nI'ma throw you all this money if you act right\nI'ma throw you all this money if you act right, uh\nI'ma throw you all this money if you act right\nThen again I ain't paying for pussy, you rookie\nChopper on my hip and it's shootin', mm, mm\nHo, chopper on my hip and it's bad like Meagan Good\nBad little bitch, she gon' give me all of her cookies\nBad little bitch and she thick, looking like Snooki\nGot a problem with me, I'ma shoot it like a movie, uh\nThat's just how it is\nI'm Khalifa with the reefer but I've never been a Wiz\nThis is grown man shit, this is not for little kids\nEven though I'm going hard like a nigga Little Bill\nGot the molly in drink, I'ma crack a seal\nRun up on me, you get popped like I'm popping all the pills\nSpazzin' on every track, I battlerap\nAnyone that's gon' battlerap, come battle that\nI feel like Shaquille O'Neal when I shoot\nChopper gon' break the glass, ratatat\nI don't got time for snakes, no time for rats\nI'm smoking pack, I'm selling crack, bring it back\nRun up on me, cool, that chopper on me get you clapped\nMatter of fact, I don't know how to act\nI'm a real-ass nigga, drill-ass nigga\nGo-and-pop-a-pill-ass nigga, real-ass nigga\nFuck how you feel, lil' nigga, I'm real, lil' nigga\nI'm sick, I'm ill, lil' nigga, for real, lil' nigga, uh\nFreestyle off the dome, kickin' it for real\nIn the cut totin' my steel like Keel\nIf you don't kill the motherfucker, fuck it, I will\nYou better start writing your will, for real\nI'm real Juice, yes, I'm the real Juice\nYou can get juiced up, you fuckin' with me, uh\nWon't the real Juice WRLD please stand up?\nWon't the real Juice WRLD please stand up?\nSomeone bring all the real Xans out\nThis fentanyl shit got me layin' on the couch\nLike, what the fuck is all these fake pills about?\nWhat the fuck is all these fake thrills about?\nR.I.P. to X, R.I.P. to Peep\nR.I.P. to Mac, R.I.P. the beats\nR.I.P. to anybody that want beef\nR.I.P. to anybody that want beef\nR.I.P. to all the niggas died in the street\nR.I.P. to all the niggas died, rest in peace\nOnly thing I can't say is R.I.P. me\n'Cause I'ma live forever, I put that on my life, B, uh\nFlow go crazy\nFor niggas that's boolin' red, my flow go brazy\nShake like Haiti\nChoppa on me, give your ass a plate\nI don't give a fuck, I may just fuck your bitch today\nYoung nigga and I'm feelin' rich today\nScratch him off, lil' lotto, no quick pick today\nBurn a nigga like Jamaicans and incense today\nBeen the realest nigga since an infant, okay, uh\nOn these Eminem beats, I'm a beast\nFrom the west to the east, I'm a freak in the sheets\nGot your bitch and she got a real badass physique\nI'ma fuck her one time while you beatin' your meat\nHaha, hahaha\nSpazzin' on this Westwood shit, though\nUh\nNicotine is cancerous, kinda like my flow\nMy gun is a thotty, kinda like your ho\nPull up on the scene, chopper on me, woah\nI get more head than some fuckin' frontal lobe\nGotta let you know she gon' dance, Gigolo\nI'm a nigga, Jigaboo\nWith some money, with some dough\nBallin' on these hoes like a motherfucking pro\nRun up on me, chopper on me and it's down to blow\nSpazzin' on they ass like every track that Westwood put on\nLook at all my niggas, how I'm finna put on\nR.I.P. to all my niggas that is gone\nPromise you that I'ma let your name live on\nTatted on my face? Nah\nTatted on my neck? Yeah\nTatted on my chest? Nah\nTatted on my wrist? Yeah\nTriple 9 like wrist slit\nI could fuck a rich bitch\nI feel like a rich bitch, probably 'cause I'm rich, bitch\nI feel like I'm Rick James\nRun up on me, chopper hit your ass like, \"Okay\"\nBlack bullets hit your fuckin' body like Luke Cage, huh\nIt's a motherfuckin' outrage, nigga\nThese niggas make me mad thinking they can compete\nI swear to God, they flow ain't nothin' to me\nBut Juice WRLD 999, he's something to see\nIt's so hard when he rap that it's make-believe\n\"He can't be freestylin' that shit for real, he be writing it\"\nNah, this off the dome, I do it to be excitin'\nI feel like a Buddha or somethin', my flow is enlightening\nBut I'm not with that folly shit\nPop it like an ollie, bitch\nI was off the molly in a party with a bitch that's acting faker than a Barbie, kid\nRun up, you get grilled just like a Que, ain't talking barbe', kid\nI'm the type to top-, oof, hold on watch this\nChopper on my side, it's 'bout the size of a hockey\nShit, I shoot it in your brain and see your thoughts, psychologist\nI been goin' harder than the hardest\nPut my arm up in the rim, I feel like Vince, I feel like Carter\nI been ballin' like a starter\nPut my dick inside your daughter\nMatter of fact, bitch, I'm your father\nNiggas thinkin' that they gettin' it, but I'm tellin' 'em, \"Why bother?\"\nMake him disappear like Potter\nI swear to God I was whippin' all this crack up in this pot\nI'm making music for the problems\nYeah, I'm making music for the problems, yeah\nI'm known to make hits, take bitches and take pills\nI make thrills, chase thrills and make mills\nI eat meals and chill out with my bro\nChris Mills, we pop willy like Meek Mills\nI'm in the cut gettin' head from a bitch\nAfter that she could be dead, I wouldn't give a fuck\nShe get on her knees and it's ironic that she get on her knees so Juice WRLD could live it up\nThat bitch said that she ready to give it up\nI said, \"Pull your panties down, baby, the jig is up\"\nI seen a bunch of crack pipes and cigarettes\nI ain't wanna fuck her, no way, serve to her mother, bruh\nHuh, that's word to your mom\nIf you looking for me I'm probably puttin' dick in your mom\nIf you looking for me I'm probably putting shit in your mom\nIf you looking for me I'm probably tryna sniff with your mom, huh\nI feel like the bomb, Osam'\nYou ain't on shit, nigga, really, dot com\nYou don't really know the shit that I'm on\nYou don't really know this spliff, my mind gone\n\nHi kids, do you like? Uh, huh\nLook, mhm\nHi kids, do you like Oxy?\nDo you wanna get it poppin' like a molly? Prolly\nRockstar, lookin' up to Chief Keef and Ozzy\nBombing like a motherfucking kamikaze\nHit him in his face with the chopper, sorry\nThat bitch finna sing like an opera, Harley\nI'ma box him out, left, right, I feel like Ali\nI'ma play your bitch like her first name Atari\nI'ma grill the pussy like it's fresh calamari\nTry me if you want, that chopper on me get to killin'\nBlood all on the floor, you know that shit just got to spillin'\nI don't give a fuck, nigga, I'm such an evil villain\nLouis V 'Preme on my shirt cost ten bands\nPull up on the scene, chopper hit you and your best friend\nMarried to the money even though I am the best man\nShe hold my dick like a mic she was testin'\nIt's time to spazz on a track, that's what I do, uh-uh\nGun sing like Erykah Badu, uh-huh\nThrow your body in the bottom of the bayou\nSo rich, motherfucker, I could buy you\nDon't try me, but nigga, I will try you\nI hope your ass ready to die, dude\nChoppa on me, leave your mama traumatized, dude\nLike a bunch of chicken, you will get fried, ooh\nI'm from Chicago where niggas don't live to see 20\nBut then again I made it out and got a lot of money\nI'm 19, I got a couple fucking months left\nMy birthday December second\nSo please don't step in my motherfucking direction\n'Cause if I feel threatened, I'm upping a Smith & Wesson\nI put it to your face, best believe I'ma get it bustin'\nI'm spazzing on a track, got an AK like a Russian\nI hit you in your head like a motherfucking concussion\nI've been causing combustion\nSomething-ness out of nothing\nTwenty-three in my Glock, I said it the last time I was on the Westwood\nTwenty-three in my Glock, boy, shooting like Jumpman, Jumpman, uh-huh\nI rapped for a hour last time\nAfter that I fucked your bitch in the shower that's fine, huh\nI rapped for a hour last time\nAfter that, I fucked your auntie in the shower, that's fine\nI fucked your auntie then your mother\nThen I put a fucking bullet hole right up in your uncle\nI got the fucking ball and I refuse to fucking fumble\nI'm confident as fuck, I'm really tired of being humble\nThese niggas really thinking that they better but they not, though\nHe say he want beef, I got them shells, let's make some tachos\nYou know I get, hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up\nHe say he want beef, I got them shells, let's make some tacos\nHe say he get cheese, I get cheese, that shit is not yours\nI get cheese like nachos, uh-huh\nThat chopper on my hip, you run up, I'ma give you quanthro\nI shoot through your Monte Carlo, uh, haha\nOn my shoes is your car note\nYou get scanned like a bar-code\nUh, uh, uh, uh\n\nEminem is like, \"I'm cancerous\nDiss, you wouldn't want to answer this\nResponded back, battle rap, wrote for Canibus\"\nShout-out Em, man\nSpazz on some of the racks, oh, mm\nPockets fat, you know I got the racks on\nClothes still got the tags on\nBoast on a nigga, I'ma brag, um\nI'm feeling like the champion\nDifferent approach on this beat\nI feel like the best if you askin' me\nI'm balling on these hoes like an athlete\nI don't think anyone gon' come better after me\nLook at the way I spazz, this is off the top, looking like a wave cap Choppa with the mags, shoot you in your ass\nLeave you in the past\nMemory in the past, now it's getting to the cash\nFreestyle flows, I don't write it, nuh-uh\nOff the top, tryna kick it and I hope I don't jag\nBad little bitch in the back of a Benz\nI'ma probably get behind it and hit it from the back\nGotta tune in and kill shit every day, ho\nPull up on the scene, chopper give you a halo\nWorld in my hands and I treat it like Play-Doh\nI love Xbox but I really don't play, ho\nI'm on to the next shit, I'm on to the next cash\nI'm smoking on the best kush, rollin' the best gas\nPull up in a black Benz, I do not fuck with Jags\nYou know what's up, nigga\nYour bitch gon' fuck, nigga\nI'm sippin', lean inside my cup, ain't Robituss', nigga\nAin't with that tussling shit, my chopper tussle for me\nI promise you I'm a bully, I keep on getting money\nThese niggas walk it, they walk it, I told 'em that I run it\nI'm kicking it off the dome, that's how a nigga coming\nI'm kicking it off the dome, that's how a nigga boming\nI'm drinking Henny with pills, you know a nigga vomit\nI'm drinking Henny with pills, you know a nigga vomit\nListen to the way I spazz\nI'ma kill 'em, put 'em in a body bag, maybe even a body cast\nSick of all the Percocets, where the fuck the molly at?\nRan a train up on your mom, she looking for trolly\nGet it popping like it's Tony Hawk, ain't talking 'bout an ollie\nYeah, but I may just pop an ollie\nUsed to skate in the hallways every Friday\nHuh, get it poppin' like an ollie\nI remember I was sitting in my basement\nThinking 'bout the clothes that I can't get\nLook at me now, I'm up right now\nA nigga still got the nerve to say I'm up next\nThree times platinum on a song, beat that\nI'm the best motherfucker, defeat that\nI ain't\u2014 hoo\nI turned my phone off 'cause I don't really want no motherfuckin' feedback\nI got a fucking bad bitch where my feet at\nAnd a bunch of, mm, ha\nI'm tryna body this beat, boy\nHahahaha, shit\n\nUh-huh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nBack in London, I'm home\nFeel like it's my second home\nThis is where Juice WRLD roams\nI feel like it's my second, uh\nI'm the best wit' it, quick witted\nI kill niggas, I switch clips\nSame way I end sentences, nigga, I'm so relentless\nPull up on the scene, my chopper just like a pencil, lead\nShoot him in the head, motherfucker\nA couple times, he gon' be dead, motherfucker\nNow his mom calling to the feds, motherfucker\n\"Look at my son laying in the bed,\" motherfucker\nRan up in his crib like the repo' man\nI gave his bitch wood like a Home Depot, man, huh\nChopper on my hip just like a Pringles can\nDesert Eagle on my hip like I'm a Eagles fan\nI'm the type to kill all your people, man\nI'm not good, hell nah, I'm an evil man\nI'm above y'all, we are not equal, man\nBefore and after, prequel and the sequel, man\nI'ma be here for a long ass time\nYou think you better than me then you lost your mind\nI'm Stevie Wonder with it, I will rob you blind\nI'm looking for the answers that they can't find\nI came to Westwood to spit some facts, motherfucker\nI came to Westwood to spit some crack, motherfucker\nI came to Westwood to get it back, motherfucker\nYour bitch is over here, I hit it like\u2014 oof\nYour bitch is over here, I hit it like, ooh\nI pulled up in a Ghost, peekaboo, the new coupe\nYou got a problem, that's okay, I got the gun, ooh\nRich nigga, probably could fuck up on the principal\nI give a fuck about the principles, gotta seal lock the envelope\nI feel like I'm Travis Scott 'cause I'm doper than all the antidote\nThat bitch is on my dick, I'ma put it in her, you know she trope\nI'ma put it in her, you know she choke\nI don't got they time for the trolls\nI could put that shit up on my soul\nRun up on me, chopper hit you in your face like it's over with\nI'm sicker than a nigga with a cold and shit\nThese niggas old as fuck, they got mold and shit\nI really wanna give them my condolences\nTo tell them that it's over and to let the new niggas prosper\nHow you my father? Nigga, I'm your father\nHow you my father? Nigga, I'm your father\nSayin' you my father, nigga, why bother?\nI don't got no father, nigga, I'm harder without a father\nI put that on your daughter\nUh-huh, uh, uh-huh, uh-huh\n\nUh-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na\nThat was his flow on this song, right?\n*mumbling*\nTour bus full of bottles and models and bitches who swallow\nGot guns full of hollows, put you out your sorrow\nI'm rappin' on Eminem beats 'cause I follow the leaders\nThat nigga's a beast\nI feel like a monster or maybe a goblin\nA straight Jeffrey Dahmer, put dick in your mama\nNeck like a ostrich, I'm fly, fuck a copper\nCan't judge me at all, put the Johnnie to Cochran\nMy flow brazy, it's crazy, insane\nAnd the fact that I made it, these fuck niggas hatin' it\nI remember playin' this game in my basement\nSayin' I would make it and fuckin' complainin'\nMama on the link, car, food, and the fridge\nBut we was still strugglin', ballin', triple-doublin'\nDamn near had two jobs, tryna keep up\nWorked at my school just so I could stay up in there, uh\nNow I gotta bless her, now I gotta bless her\nNow I gotta fuck on a bitch named Vanessa\nHer chest the best, huh, her breasts the best, uh\nNow I'm ballin', next up, now I'm ballin', next up\nThis shit'll upset, I'm fuckin' the world like it's rough sex\nGot head from a white bitch, I call it a roughneck\nI'm ball on these bitches like Rucker or somethin'\nMoney makin', rich motherfucker or somethin'\nMy flow is crazy, it's brazy\nI told you, you run up then you will get cranked like a soldier\nMake like composers, I promise it's over\nEverything but sober, I do her like homework\nNiggas think they in it but they not\nThey been trippin', catch 'em slippin', I'ma shoot 'em with the Glock\nI been ballin' like a Piston, shit, I do this shit a lot\nAll this shit is really all a part of my evil plot\nThis is world domination, triple 9 in this bitch\nChiropractor with the chopper, break your spine when it hit\nI been ballin' like I'm Kobe or LeBron in this bitch\nMatter fact, I'm feelin' like I'm in my prime in this bitch\nThis shit finna do numbers on YouTube, trust me\nHoes gon' love me, they all wanna fuck me\nEven if I'm ugly, I know I'm not ugly\nI been movin' around too much, trust me\nChopper on my hip with a clover on it, lucky\nMy chopper like a thotty, I pull it out, it's busting\nI really don't got time for none of the discuss-ting\nI promise all I'm smoking all this pack, super musty\nOff of the dome\nThis shit comin' off of the dome\nAnd I'm comin' all for your domes\nThis shit comin' off of the dome\nI make hits and take shits on these niggas that think that they better than me, but they not, go figure\nKeep the Tommy in my Tommy, lil' nigga, Hilfigers\nI'ma ball, I'ma swish, lil' nigga\nI remember smoking swishers with my brother and now it's backwoods\nRun up on me, chopper hit you and leave you in backwoods\nIf you lookin' for me then I'm probably up to no good\nRunnin' through your hood with probably some more goods\nWater whippin' in the kitchen, flippin' it like chicken\nRun up, chopper hit him, put him into su-submission\nDon't give a fuck about niggas, neither, or bitches\nI promise you I'm only focused on gettin' them riches\nYou see it, believe it, white Justin Bieber\nMy swag super hot like I caught me a fever\nBring the house down like Queen, no Latifah\nYou'll get smoked like a blunt, no Khalifa\nBoolin' on top with a thot from the block\nGive me top, you get hit with the Glock\nAll my niggas get money, best believe it or not\nRun up on me, leave you shot\nBest believe I'm on top\nJuice WRLD like Pac, shoutout 2Pac\nWithout him I wouldn't be here, believe it or not\nShoutout to Eminem, same situation\nI been makin' all this money, I been money-makin'\nI been soul snatchin', I been life takin'\nThey think I sold my soul, nigga, I was just playin'\nI just got this shit on my own, nigga, I'm just sayin'\nI just got this shit on my own, nigga, I'm just sayin'\nMy flow is so intricate, intimate, killin' 'em, really I'm ripping it\nFocused like Ritalin, nigga, you get it, don't get it\nForget me, lil' nigga\nProactively poppin' like zits, lil' nigga\nOn Westwood boolin', back smokin' pack\nWith a bitch rollin' 'thrax for me\n'Cause I don't know how to roll Backwoods\nBut it's all good, I'ma get my shit back\nRidin' up, like a pimp, lil' nigga, you get your shit slapped, nigga\nJust like slick back, nigga\nBreak you off like a candy, nigga, no KitKat, nigga\nAll my niggas get money, best to believe that, nigga\nOver-chieve all the niggas, overachieve that nigga\nThey lookin' at me like, \"How we gon' overachieve that nigga?\nHe 19, he went three times platinum\nHe wrote that song in twenty minutes, he just started rapping\"\nNah, I been makin' it happen, huh\nAhahaha\nThey say, \"Why your dreams super lucid?\" Ahaha\nOh, chief, this beat hard as fuck\n\nHis arms are sweaty\nHis face is sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy\nHe ain't have a Perc' in a couple days, he ready, uh-huh, uh-huh\nHis face is sweaty, haha\nHis face is sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy\nHe ain't have a Perc' in a couple days, he ain't ready\nHe got a show, he gotta perform and do his thing\nBut them withdrawals finna take his ass up out the game\nHell nah, I'ma keep fightin' and I'ma do me\nMy life is such a Blu-ray, it's such a movie\nYour bitch is such a thotty, she's such a groupie\nThat she ain't tell you she gave me all of her coochie\nLose yourself in this music, this moment, you own it, you better never let it go\nAnd it's like a seed to plant when you rap and you spazz and you gotta throw it on and watch this shit grow\nI pull up, I'm shootin' out the coupe, it's red on the fucking white 'Cause I killed your ass in the snow\nI'm ballin' out the roof with my troops, we do what we do\nI just gotta let you know\nI spazz on this track like the best fucking rapper\nWhen I freestyle off the top I'm the best fucking rapper\nHe sayin' shit he don't do, that nigga is an actor\nAnd if it's up to me, he's not really a benefactor\nI turned him into fractions\nI rap and then I watch y'all reactions\nThey like, \"How the fuck he made this shit happen?\"\nLike a poetry slam, I got 'em snapping, yeah\nHold the applause, I put dick in your broad\nI put dick in your mom, I put dick in the world\nGive a fuck about shit, I'm a fuck on a bitch\nI'm a count up the grip then put a dick in your girl\nI don't care about nothin' but this money\nAnd God, I'ma pray every day that I make it\u2014\nOut some time, she call me Allah\nI don't want that title, baby, I'm not God, I don't forgive\nMy niggas runnin' into your crib\nKillin' everybody, they even got some bloods on the bib\nThere's blood on the leaves, I'm listenin' to Kanye and shit\nIt's three K for the wrist, I'm feeling like I'm Andr\u00e9 again\nI get to servin' crackers, feelin' like an Entr\u00e9e again\nI'm up in a different island fuckin' on a Bombay chick\nI give a fuck about you, I give a fuck about your bitch\nI kill your ass, and then I tell you to rest in piss\nRest in clips, rest in this, you can take the rest of this\nMichael Jackson with flow, I'm cardiac arrest this shit\nR.I.P. to the king, yeah, king of pop, shit\nRun up on me, chopper play you like the king of rock, shit\nAerosmith with the gun, haha\nAerosmith with the gun\nNo guitar, Aerosmith with the gun\nWillow, hahaha\nYeah, man\nI make it look simple\nChopper hit your face and get blood on your dimples\nMore than some acne problems, bigger than a pimple\nChoppa hit your face and give your forehead a nipple, hahaha\nFor really though\nThese niggas really thinking that they in it, no\nWe can get it poppin' like a wheelie, ho\nPhilly shit, ain't talkin' 'bout Meek Milly, ho\nBut shoutout Meek Milly though, uh\nI'm getting this money\nI'ma stack it, flip it, I keep it one hundred\nI'm gettin' this money\nStack it and flip it, I'm keepin' it one hundred\nI'm gettin' this money\nStack it and flip it, I'm keepin' it one hundred\nUh, there's more of this beat left? Alright\nBack on my rap shit, even on my trap shit\nBlood everywhere, you gon' need more than a napkin\nNiggas really be cappin'\nMe, I just be snappin'\nLooking at these niggas like, \"Why the fuck you acting?\"\nWho the fuck you asking for money?\nAin't no hand-outs, I got it on my own, dummy\nYeah, I got my own money\nYeah, I own money\nPull up on the scene, pockets full of old money\nStill new money, sad money, blue money\nOne-thousand, two-thousand, yeah, I got a few hundred thou' on me\nI'ma shoot a motherfucker with a .40 cal, homie\nI'ma probably load it up and blow him down, homie\nI could rap all day, I could spit facts\nThis a big ass gun, you better get back\nI don't really got time for the chit-chat\nI don't really got time for the chit-chat\nBad bitch on my line wanna fuck\nI remember I was down, I ain't had no luck\nNow she telling me, \"Come through,\" she want me to bust\nI said hell nah, baby, I ain't tryna get a nut\nOff you, but I could fuck on your friend for the irony\nExcitingly, off the molly the whole entirely time\nBut I don't wanna do that shit\nI'll probably just play her ass like Aerosmith, uh\nYou better lose it, I'm making love and I'm making music\nYour bitch on my dick, it ain't nothin' else to it\nI broke up with my bitch, she was useless\nDon't give a fuck about shit, uh, uh\nDon't give a fuck about shit, aha\nDon't give a fuck about shit, uh-huh\nDon't give a fuck, hahahaha\n\nI feel like the bestest\nMy flow fresh to death, it's deadlier than some asbestos\nI feel like a teacher, I could teach your ass a lesson\nChoppa turn your ass into some fucking sloppy seconds\nNigga, it's a preference\nCall me a reverend 'cause I can show you how to get your bitch-ass to heaven\nI feel like a lil' kid in my adolescence\nI ain't scared of shit, I got my Smith & then my Wesson\nSpazzin' on this bitch, feel like a dragon on this bitch\nI'm off a Xanax, tryna plan it like I'm draggin' in this bitch\nRun up on me, chopper hit you\nIt get a nigga licked just like a motherfucking tongue\nI fuck your bitch from the back while the bitch speak in tongues\nShe give me head but she dumb, give me head 'til she numb\nClip stickin' out the fucking gun like a sore thumb\nNigga, you ain't on none\nBrother locked up for real, call that nigga Akon\nI don't really give a fuck about shit\n'Cause niggas don't know what the fuck that I'm on\nLook up, saw my nigga dead, fuck it, he gone\nHad to shed a couple tears but I had to move on\nNow I'm balling on these hoes like the play-offs\nBalling like the play-offs\nThey say hard works pays off\nI'm waiting for the payoff\nI'm up in UK with Westwood spittin' crazy shit\nRun up on me, chopper on me, that shit over with\nLike I said, I grip a K, Union Soviet\nLife's a gamble when I'm taking all your poker chips\nJuice WRLD is in your world\nDick in your girl, I rule the world\nDiamonds shining, believe the pearls\nPull up on a scene, chopper make him hurl\nHe so scared that he vomiting\nEyes red but I ain't with that demonic shit\nShe do coke, movin' faster than Sonic, bitch\nVVS shining bright like Trons and shit\nTransform in that bitch, Megatron and shit\nTryna put my whole fucking team on and shit\n9-9-9 club, what you on, lil' bitch?\nChopper like a magic trick, it get you gone, lil' bitch\nCall of Duty with that UZI how I'm spawnin' shit\nWith that Twitter beef, I ain't with that respondin' shit\nLike I said, I'm ballin' on 'em, no LeBron and shit\nDon't believe me, you could ask your fucking mom, lil' bitch, ha\nYeah, let me talk my shit\nHop out this chair real quick and I'll walk my shit, ha\nAnd I'ma sit back down\nI'ma keep it chill and probably gonna smoke my spliff, uh\nI make it look easy, I make it look simple\nYour bitch really sleazy, she bustin' like pimples\nShe really get it poppin'\nAnd after that she expected me to take her shoppin'\nBitch, you got two options; hop in this Uber or hop in the cab\nI don't really wanna do ya\nBut if you got a problem I'll put one in your medulla\nMy gun bisexual, you know it's finna do her\nHaha, haha\nLibrary book ho, I had to go renew her, haha\nI'm the shit, no manure\nI done got it out the gutter, I was raised up in the sewer, huh\nWhat you wanna do, sir?\nMy chopper got a special aim for a loser\nAnd your bitch on my dick, she's a chooser\nI met her sendin' nudes on computers\nShe on her laptop, gettin' it bustin' on Skype, givin' her backshots\nWait 'til the beat drop, I'm such a bad kid\nI'm such a Boondock, my brother had the crack rock sittin' in his tube socks\nHe used to sell that shit\nHad clients up in Texas, he used to mail that shit\nI'm getting buckets like LeBron, I had to pail that shit\nChopper hit your fucking face just like some hail and shit\nI'm talking H-A\u2014 ooh\nI keep wanting to throw shade, bro, but I can't even do it\nI be havin' to\u2014 'cause look, when I freestyle, I be seein' the line\nI like, see the line in my head before I say it, and I just knew that shit was going, nope, ha\n\nNope, nope, nope, nope\nI'm not tryna get in no trouble\nI ball out like triple, no double\nMy flow go too Nipsey, no Hussle\nI call plays and I don't even set huddles\nI get her wet, you just get a puddle\nI get a lake, and then I swim in it and act like I didn't eat, haha\nOn these beats, I'ma beast\nIt's Thanksgiving in the bank, I walk in and have a feast, ha\nI tell that nigga, \"Rest in peace,\" rest in pieces with my piece, hit his face to take his piece\nI don't take chains, I buy 'em\nI don't take drugs, I try 'em\nGod forbid that I end up dyin'\nI'ma live forever, best believe I'm too defiant\nI'm a champion, I'm a fucking mogul\nIf you run up on me, then it's fucking over\nLike a bad relationship, it's gon' be fucking over\nChoppa knock your ass out and put you in a fucking coma\nThe shit I smoke'll make you die, nigga\nThe pills I pop'll make you cry, nigga\nAnd where I'm from, it's homicide, nigga\nNo animals, but we lettin' the llamas fly, nigga, ha\nFor real, uh, I'm finna keep going, uh-huh, for real, uh, uh-huh, yeah, for real\nOn the real, I wonder why these niggas hatin' on me\nLike I'm sittin' at a table, they been waitin' on me\nThey been sittin' for a minute, they been waiting to eat\nI'm the only one that eats around this bitch, it's a feast for me\nWe are not equal at all\nI'm going hard motherfucker, and that is my job, uh\nFocused to the point they think I'm on Adderal\nBut I ain't shit but Percs and high cholesterol, uh\nWatch yourself\nChoppa breaking bad, nigga, that's what's up\nNever gave a fuck about the bitch you fucked because I fucked her before you fucked, nigga, what's up?\nHe say he wanna box, I got my hand on my Glock\nThat .40 came with a .30 so we gon' call that a cock\nNo homo, I'm straight, I gave your bitch my cock\nI fucked her every day, the clip is never stocked\nI keep a hundred in the chopper at all times\nAnd all I know is money 'cause it's on my mind\nI promise you that I'm ballin' on, prime-time\nThat Rollie on my wrist looking like the sunshine\nAlmost bought a Patek, all baguettes, motherfucker\nFuck your bitch, she gon' sweat to keep sweat, motherfucker\nChoppa just like a pussy, it'll wet a motherfucker\nI feel like off a Xanny I'll forget a motherfucker\nI still see these Perkies in my room\nNiggas dirty but my choppa is a broom\nGive a fuck about you, it's all me, nigga\nI'ma run that shit just like a track meet, nigga\nOff the dome, kickin' shit, it's just me, nigga\nThat's just how I want this shit to fucking be, nigga\nI feel like a fighter, boy, my gun'll beat niggas\nMission complete niggas, it'll defeat niggas, ha\nWho are you to me, nigga?\nReally I'm out of your league, nigga\nI'm never tired, you got fatigue, nigga\nThree days since I eat and sleep, nigga, ha\nI been up for a long time\nI don't even think I'm in my right mind\nBut it's all good, nevermind\nLet me switch it up and say some better lines, ha\n\nUh,  boss, I'm finna, uh\nYeah, I'm finna boss up, finna gloss on 'em\nArsenal, mm-mm, arse-na-na\nI like that, lemme see if I can run with that, uh, huh\nLately, I'm flossin', I feel like a boss\nThese niggas fresh out of the closet\nRun up, get off, chopper on me make a deposit\nYou get dropped off, nigga, get popped off\nThis shit dead, motherfucker, ain't talkin' Nate Dogg\nWant beef? Chopper'll hit you, ain't talkin' steak sauce\nYou lookin' for you homie? He up in the graveyard\nChopper tear his face off, wasn't a face-off\nI just shot his face off, it was a face-off\nNigga, what you wanna? You'll just get smoked like a blunt of marijuana\nEvery day I'm rollin' up strong, smoking Ganja, pressure\nI'll be that way forever, I ain't givin' no effort\nGet her wetter, I feel like Bill Cosby on Molly, rockin' the sweater\nPull up, I got that chopper on me, it's a Beretta, ha\nYeah, that bitch a Beretta\nI don't gotta prove shit to nobody\nYou can catch me fuckin' thots in your party\nFuck that shit, I am a homebody\nYou lookin' for your bitch? I got your ho body\nPlease don't tell nobody, they don't know 'bout it\nI took your ho out it\nI fucked her from the back and then I took her soul out her\nI feel like I'm Kendrick, I'm finna lose control out here, huh, yeah\nYeah-yeah, yeah, yeah\nI feel like I'm Kendrick, I'm finna lose control out here\nThese niggas dirty up in the ground like a mole out here\nI'm ballin' on these niggas, it feel like a prowl out here\nI'm ballin' on these niggas, I feel like a pro out here\nI'm outerspace, shout out to NASA\nChains on me, I'm not a slave, I'm a master\nGraduate with these flows, nigga, I feel like a master\nA tornado or somethin', I'm a natural disaster\nI walk up in your house and put your head through the plaster\nI never had a father, yeah, I always been bastard\nYou run up, that's okay, that chopper turn you to fuckin' blast\nUh-nuh, bastard, uh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh\nMan, this shit easy\n\nDamn, damn\nYou listen to my freestyles\nYou probably think I'm a misogynistic rasick, racist-ass nigga, mind racing\nMy mind is in three different places\nI don't fuck with niggas, I'm racist\nRollin' up gas in the basement\nShakin' her ass like a Haitian, ha\nShakin' her ass, I'm impatient\nI'm just tryna smash on the daily, all the way turnt up\nRoscoe Dash try to play me, chopper get you burnt up\nI'ma ball on these hoes, nigga\nYou know us, it's no fuss, it's ten K to show up\nOn TNT, I blow up\nListen to the way that I spazz off the top of the dome just like a wave-cap\nMAC-11 hit you where your motherfuckin' face at\nWhile you eatin' dinner, now I got your brains on your placemat\nWhere the fuck could you place that?\nHe dirty as fuck, when the fuck did he say that?\nI say what I want, I do what I want\nI do what you don't, I do what you won't\nIt's off of the dome, it's off of the top\nMy hand on my gun, that heat on my hip, I up it like it sun\nThat chopper on me 'cause I'm not the one\nI'm from Chicago where niggas die every day, ho\nKeep a gun on you to stay safe, oh\nIt's a damn shame to live like that\nBut I'd be damned if a nigga shoot me right, uh\nUh-huh, let me catch this bitch\nUh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah\nUh-huh, uh-huh\nI'm just honest, mm\nI run through the night like GLaDOS, I been ballin' like a maverick\nGive a fuck 'bout what you say, I'm gettin' money and I manage\nI been high up in the sky, nigga, I'm outlandish\nI'm Gorillas in the Mist, you such a Kung Fu Panda\nI'm sipping codeine, I got the dirtiest of Fanta\nThree hoes in my lap, lil' nigga, what you want from Santa?\nYou get jacked like o-lanterns\nTryna fuck with the pattern, Louis V all on the pattern\nOuterspace, I'm on Saturn with some niggas that'll kill 'em for me\nKill 'em for me, kill 'em for me\nI'm on Saturn with some niggas that a kill 'em for me\nKill 'em for me, kill 'em for me\nI remember dressin' being broke and bummy\nNow I walk around looking like I got some money\nTry me if you wanna, this shit gon' get ugly\nMy chopper leave a nigga stinking, leave him musty\nLeave him swimmin' with the crabs, now he Krusty\nChopper got a couple titties, super busty\nI could really give a fuck 'bout what you saying 'cause it's nothing\nI am at your head like a concussion with combustion\nI can rap all day\nOff the top, ideas\nI am the shit, boy\nI am the diarrhea\nI am the hardest\nBalling like Harden\nI am a starter\nI am a Martian\nI am a Spartan\nI am a squad, I do not need a squadron\nI'm going hard on your mom, I'ma bomb her\nHit from the back in a Gucci bomber\nThat nigga funny, mm, no problem\nThese niggas pussy, these niggas pussy\nExperienced like a vet but I am still a rookie\nI feel like I'm Sesame, robbing them for they cookies\nYou run up, I hit him, that chopper leave his ass shook\nBeefing on Facebook, get your face took\nShoot you in your face, give a fuck 'bout how your face look\nStealin' faces, lil' nigga, I'm such a face crook\nTry to rob me, I shoot you, you know I face crooks\nDid I say face? I meant deface 'em\nTurn 'em to an ape, I Bathing Ape 'em\nCooking in the kitchen while they tried to run up on me\nNow his brains all over my fucking apron\nPresidential brain from your main, Sarah Palin\nLook at all my songs playing all on her playlist\nPlease don't get offended when I say this\nI'm better than these other niggas, I ain't even playin'\nBad bitch came from the motherlands\nI'ma prolly fuck his mama when his mother lands\nHa, haha, yeah, yeah, yeah\n\nStan, bitch\n\"It reminds me that it's not so bad, it's not so bad\"\nUh, I can tell a story with this beat\nUh-huh, get headphones, hahaha\nHere's a story about how I got rich\nIt happened all this year, I still don't know shit\nIt's hard to focus 'cause there's so much goin' on\nI still think about my niggas, all the ones that's gone\nIts been like eight months since this shit started\nIts been like eight months since this shit started\nIts been like eight months since this shit started, yeah\nIts been like eight months since this shit started\nMe and G Money at the beginning, choppin' it up\nTalking about how much money was in the cut\nInterscope on the line, they was hittin' us up\nAt some point, we weren't even picking it up\nNow, I'm Interscope money, but I got my own money\nI can show some\nIf I went to the strip club, I could throw some\nBut I don't owe them bitches nothin', I don't pay for nothin'\nLife is free when you live like me\nChopper hit your ass like, damn, he can't breathe\nStevie Wonder, when I rob, he can't see\nKill him on the news, it couldn't be me\nI never lack\nI see this shit, these niggas must have cataracts\nI'm pullin' up, I'm shootin' out the Cadillac\nYou want smoke? Come over here, we can battle that\nUh, listen\nI don't believe in competition\nI got the drive like a brand new Bugatti engine\nIt's only me and myself, I don't need no henchmen\nI'm not a God, like I said, so I'm not forgiven\nI need to work on that, I need to work on it\nI got a dick for a reason, I watch her twerk on it\nI put in work, never save her, don't go to church homie\nYour run up on me, that chopper will leave you murked homie\nI need to smoke a blunt, I haven't smoked, I just woke up, came to Westwood and spit facts\nUh\nMy choppa on me, like what's up, it's showing no love, it talk to her screaming, \"Get back!\"\nUh\nThese niggas ain't shit but a bunch of bad jokes\nPopsicle ass niggas like did you get that ,uh\nMy choppa so damn horny, it'll fuck anybody thats gon' get clapped\nUh, listen\nI feel like the best\nI put they ass into submission\nLike I said, I never got no motherfuckin' competition\nI'm in it to win it\nThat choppa on me its killin'\nI feel like Bruce Willis, I feel like Bruce Bannis\nI feel like Michael Jordan going nuts like Planters\nOff the top\nClip hanging out the gun, no banana\nScope up on the rifle, I can see yo ass hatin' nigga\nI can see yo ass hatin'\nYou still rocking Trues, boy yo goofy ass basic\nI'on give a fuck about shit that's all I'm sayin'\nI'ma dye my hair like I said, I'ma Saiyan\nI'ma say it, don't spray it, spray it, don't say it\nTalk my shit then leave him layin' on the pavement\nFuck yo bitch then act like I didn't do it\nShe may tell ya, that's not my fault\nBut it's all good 'cause *mumbling*\nI wanna make a real song outta this beat I ain't gon' lie\n\nOkay, yeah, yeah\nGhost like Danny Phantom\nI'm in that ghost like Danny Phantom\nYoung rich and handsome\nI gotta handgun\nTook yo bitch, didn't ask for ransom\nPull up on me, kill him out the random\nBrand new gun, that shit is a scandal, yeah\nHit your soup can Campbell's, uh\nMy flow, you can't handle, uh\nMy flow, you can't handle\nTreat your brain like eggs and scramble it, uh\nI feel like Tim Hardaway in the fourth, the way I handle it, yeah\nI feel like Tim Westwood, in the fourth, the way I'm sayin' shit, uh\nThe way I talk my shit, uh\nI hop up out my seat, uh\nAnd start to walk my shit, uh\nI told them watch they feet like footwork\nChoppa make a nigga foot work\nHit you in yo' face, yo' face hurt nigga\nHit you in yo' face, yo' face hurt nigga\nRun up on me, you get burnt nigga\nBought my momma a new purse nigga\nBurkin, hell yeah I been workin'\nYo' bitch on my dick, you know that she twerkin', uh\nTurned to a whole different person\nI'm off the perkys, this shit be workin', uh\nSick of my ex, she all on my Instagram, she fuckin' lurkin', uh\nI don't got time for it, uh\nI'm rockin' Tom Ford, uh\nI'm in the black Porsche, uh\nI'm in the four-door, uh\nFuckin' on four whores, uh, uh\nFlip 'em on a mattress, parkour, uh\nRide my dick just like Aladdin carpet, uh\nOuter space, I'm up on Saturn, star shit\nSwitch the flow up\nIn the 'Rari I'm doin' doughnuts\nHold up, where the money at? yeah yeah, yeah, yeah\nWhat's the hold up?\nAll the weed, I'ma roll up\nAll these police patrollin'\nI'on really got time for them, got a magnum on me ain't talkin' Trojan\nNigga I'm gon' live in the moment\nBullets come in 3 like Jonas\nAnd my gun sing like Jonas\nCount it up, commas, exponents\nI don't really give a fuck, you know it\nBad bitch on my dick, she goin'\nHell yeah, she love the cocaine\nBobby Brown, she get to snowin' uh-huh, uh-huh\nBitch I'm lit, just like Bic\nEven sound cold when I say basic shit\nDon't give no fuck, that's about shit\nLook at me nigga, what do I look like?\nRich, that's not even my name\nThey don't even know my name\nIt's just Juice WRLD to the game\nPull up on me okay, choppa take yo' life like a chain\nI feel like I'm Prince sippin' on this purple rain\nAnd you look like a bitch, ha, throwin' shade, hahaha\nYeah, I say\nI feel like I'm Prince pourin' up this purple rain\nAnd you look like a bitch over there throwin' shade\nUh, listen\nDon't give a fuck about niggas or bitches you trippin'\nFuck with yo' feelings\nEvery day I count the money, I stack it and flip it\nI get the winnings, lottery winnings, I get the winnings, lottery winnings, I get the winnings\nI'm finna vibe on a bitch\nI'm getting high with yo' bitch\nShe gon' kiss my other friend, she goin' bi' for this shit\nFuck her one time, then it's goodbye, ball prime time on a bitch\nHell yeah, NBA 2K maybe live in the bitch, hell yeah\nI'm on Instagram live with yo' ho, uh\nShe showin' me titties, took a screenshot then I gotta go, uh\nShe came over to my hotel room, and you know I score, uh, uh\nNow that lil' bitch is my whore, uh\nI got bro over there in the corner tweakin' off my shit, uh\nChoppa like a plumber, leave you leakin' when it hit, uh\nWith the offense but I'm still with defense in this bitch, uh\nStevie Wonder, even he didn't see this shit, ha, ayy, haa\nI'm funny as hell, haha\nI just be tryna catch vibes on beats, that shit funny\nThey be comin' out cold sometimes, hahaha\nI'on even know what writin' is, I ain't write in a long time\nI done checked my rollie at the fucking wrong time\nNiggas say they can ball like this, them niggas offsides\nAll my niggas wavy as fuck, nigga we get high tide\nLookin' at me like look at his eyes, that nigga too high\nLookin' at me like look at his wings, that nigga too fly\nThat nigga eatin' so damn good, ain't talkin' Five Guys\nAll these niggas pussy, huh?\nThey must have 9 lives\nAll my niggas Mormon, huh, they must have 9 wives\nPull up with that choppa, uh, that bitch take yo' life\nPull up to your hotel room, then I take yo' wife\nTake her to my hotel room, it's gon' be a long night\nIn that ghost like poltergeist\nTriple 9 all on my wrist\nI could fuck the pastor's wife\nI don't have no father bitch, always been a bastard right, always been a bastard right\nI'ma rich ass bastard right\nYou a bitch ass bastard right\nHuh\nAll these niggas have to write\nI'on have to write, all these niggas have to write\nI'm fresh to death, I got this Louis from the afterlife, uh\nYour bitch suck on my dick, she got a lil' overbite\nTake her to the dentist\nProlly get her cleaned up\nI bust all up in her system\nAnd if she get pregnant from that, that's gon' be part of yo' children\nHuh\nI'm investin'\nI spent 2 million on buildings, uh\nI'm, huh, huh\nIn her intestines\nFeel like the bestest\nBitch my flow deadly, no asbestos, uh\nWoof, huh\nTeach his ass a lesson, hahaha\nGon' teach his ass a lesson\nI done made like 6 songs in here, I ain't gon' reference none of that shit though, right, might as well dance for the rest of it, haha\nYeah, you know what I'm sayin'\nOne more thing though\nLemme talk my shit\nLemme fuck yo' bitch\nI'ma go get rich on they ass\nRun up on me, that choppa hit you and leave your ass prehistoric, the past\nAll I know is count grips, stack chips, all that nigga I'm in love with the cash\nI ain't talkin' about Burkin, and Gucci, and Louis, but bitch I'm in my bag\nI had to get serious for a fecond hmm\nSerious for a second, hmm\nPaul Walker in the 'Rari I feel like Fast & Furious for a second, uh\nSlap yo bitch up, that lil' bitch delirious for a second, uh\nMonkey ass nigga, you look like George, too curious for a second, uh\nFuck that bitch when I'm in it\nI'on give no fuck about no competition\nPull up on the team, my choppa hit him, he gon' need a doctor nigga\nMy gun sing, haha\nGun sing like an opera, nigga, yeah, yeah, yeah\nNiggas fake, they deserve an Oscar nigga, yeah, yeah, yeah, huh\nHaa, pipe up, pipe up, bitch, ha-ha-ha"}
{"text":"DY definitely Krazy\n\nAbandon all ships, it's about to go down\nNo Titanic (Titanic)\nThere's a lot going\u2005on\u2005in my head\u2005right now\nBut I manage (Yeah, I\u2005manage)\nGood heart, good soul, both been in bad hands\nI could deal damage (Yeah, real damage)\nBoth hands in the air as I scream out prayers\nMy demons show their face in the midnight air\n\nJust got a new house, gotta hide the skeletons in the closet\nAnd keep 'em there, really tryna forget about 'em\nThey tell me God watchin' over me, I don't doubt it\nBut I can see Him gettin' tired of me sinnin' and wildin'\nDon't know what to do with myself these days\nYoung rich nigga, I done fell in love with the bank\nBut all this money don't rid me of my pain\nBut everywhere I go, I could make it precipitate, rain\n\nFucked up (Fucked up), I did (I did)\nFucked up (Fucked up), I am (I am)\nCalm down, I can't\nShit, here we go again\nYou might also like\nAbandon all ships, it's about to go down\nNo Titanic (Titanic)\nThere's a lot going on in my head right now\nBut I manage (Yeah, I manage)\nGood heart, good soul, both been in bad hands\nI could deal damage (Yeah, real damage)\nBoth hands in the air as I scream out prayers\nMy demons show their face in the midnight air\n\nSet sail in the codeine bottle, I'ma drown in it, drown in it\nShit fills me up, but whatever goes up goes down in it, down in it\nAt the end of the day, I'm blessed, oh yes, crack a smile with it, smile with it\nNow I'm frownin' again, life goes so fast, watch it blow in the wind\nCan't get time back, I been beggin' for it\n\nFucked up (Fucked up), I did\nOh, fucked up, I am\nHere we go again (Here we go again)\n\nAbandon all ships, it's about to go down\nNo Titanic (Titanic)\nThere's a lot going on in my head right now\nBut I manage (Yeah, I manage)\nGood heart, good soul, both been in bad hands\nI could deal damage (Yeah, real damage)\nBoth hands in the air as I scream out prayers\nMy demons show their face in the midnight air\nMidnight air, midnight air\nMidnight air (Midnight air), I'ma drown in here\nMidnight air (Midnight air), surrounded in the midnight air\nI'ma drown in here, no Titanic, Titanic"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7ePolskiMy Fault \ufe64\/3 Lyrics\nOoh\nOoh-oh-oh\nShe told me that it's all my fault\nIt woulda been a right and not another wrong (Huh)\n\nShe told me that it's all my fault\nIt would've been perfect all along\nIt woulda been a right and not another wrong\nAnd it would be a happy, not a sad song, oh\n'Cause it's all my fault\nShe would have been perfect on her own\nI should have took a right, but I took a wrong\nAnd now this ain't a happy, it's a sad song, oh\n\nShe like a mouse in a mousetrap, stuck up\nShe got me rolling weed now, I'm fucked up\nYou talking too much so shut the fuck up\nYou heated too much, you're high, the summer\nI'll let you cool down\nAnd I brought you 'round, momma\nBut you let me down\nYeah, you let me drown in drama\nYou're talking too much, so shut the fuck up\nYou're talking too much, so shut the fuck up\nYou're talking too much, so shut the fuck up\nYou're talking too much, so shut the fuck up\nI'll let you cool down\nAnd I brought you 'round, momma\nBut you let me down\nYeah, you let me drown in drama\nYou might also like\nShe told me that it's all my fault\nIt would've been perfect all along\nIt woulda been a right and not another wrong\nAnd it would be a happy, not a sad song, oh\n'Cause it's all my fault\nShe would've been perfect on her own\nI should have took a right, but I took a wrong\nAnd now this ain't a happy it's a sad song, oh\n\nShe told me that it's all my fault\nIt would've been a right and not another wrong\nAnd it would be a happy, not a sad song\n'Cause it's all my fault\nShe woulda been perfect on her own\nAnd now this ain't a happy, it's a sad song\n\nShe told me that it's all my fault\nIt would've been perfect all along\nIt woulda been a right and not another wrong\nAnd it would be a happy, not a sad song, oh\n'Cause it's all my fault\nShe would've been perfect on her own\nI should have took a right, but I took a wrong\nAnd now this ain't a happy, it's a sad song, oh"}
{"text":"Yeah\n\nUp, up and away, hop in\nFeel the walls in my brain and they're caving in\nOutside\u2005those\u2005walls, there's a\u2005ocean, I can't swim\nEspecially with all\u2005these waves\n\nI'm walkin' in Prada, tryna solve my problems\nThrough the night, finding vibes, Moonlight Sonata\nI try to deny, but you see the pills in my eyes\nI tell her that I'm high, but she don't seem surprised\nWalkin' in Prada, tryna solve my problems\nThrough the night, finding vibes, Moonlight Sonata\nI try to deny, but you see the pills in my eyes\nI tell her that I'm high, but she don't seem surprised (Uh)\n\nMaybe I realize that my life is a ride\nBuckle up, hold tight, take a left, turn right\nGPS don't work, can't see at night\nSo it's getting hard to drive, anxiety at a stoplight\nHard to think, easy to cry, that's how I know something's not right\nNumb the pain with fun times, supermotos, Perc lines\nRemember that one time everything was alright\nAlright (Oh-oh-oh)\nYou might also like\nUp, up and away, hop in\nFeel the walls in my brain and they're caving in\nOutside those walls, there's a ocean, I can't swim\nEspecially with all these waves\n\nI'm walkin' in Prada, tryna solve my problems\nThrough the night, finding vibes, Moonlight Sonata\nI try to deny, but you see the pills in my eyes\nI tell her that I'm high, but she don't seem surprised\nWalkin' in Prada, tryna solve my problems\nThrough the night, finding vibes, Moonlight Sonata\nI try to deny, but you see the pills in my eyes\nI tell her that I'm high, but she don't seem surprised\n\nUp, up and away, hop in\nFeel the walls in my brain and they're caving in\nOutside those walls, there's a ocean, I can't swim\nEspecially with all these waves"}
{"text":"Stuck in a maze\nOh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nStuck in a maze, mmh\n\nStuck in a maze\nEverything's okay but it's not really okay\nMy life's a death race\nI'm numbing my pain with codeine rain\nI'm going insane\nLife's not the same\nStuck in a maze\nI'm not going anywhere\nMy brain is going everywhere\nI'm tormented every day\nMama, I'm losing my mental\nThe sorrows that I've been through\nStory to be continued\n\nI sip ill, pop pills, crack seals\nDoing anything to numb the way that I feel, yeah\nI chase thrills, you still crashin' Hot Wheels\nRide a dirt bike down the ditch, see if I live\nI knock my subconscious unconscious\nThey tell me that they can help me, I got this\nWatch this, I took my demons into the bank of life and I made the biggest deposit\nWithout drugs, I'm losing my logic\nThese pills and my Pro Tools still got logic\nI run, I run, I run\nI run, I run, I run\nYou might also like\nStuck in a maze\nEverything's okay but it's not really okay\nMy life's a death race\nI'm numbing my pain with codeine rain\nI'm going insane\nLife's not the same\nStuck in a maze\nI'm not going anywhere\nMy brain is going everywhere\nI'm tormented every day\nMama, I'm losing my mental\nThe sorrows that I've been through\nStory to be continued"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsStarstruck Lyrics\nYeah, we're playing in bed\nYou see the- I lock eyes, our eyes lock\n\nOur eyes locked,\u2005you\u2005can see the\u2005sadness\nMy heart stops, every time you\u2005call my name\nMy jaw drops, you fell from the stars, and I'm starstruck\nYou fell from the stars, girl, am I lost?\nWhen you're down, when you're sad, is it my fault?\nI apologize for all of the lies, oh\nI won't treat you like the rest of them guys, oh\n\nI'm off the Perc's, she don't condone it\nYou say it makes me act atrocious\nBut I can't stand life when I'm sober\nTake my heart, I'll hand it over\nSix months in, it gets colder\nI don't want us to be over\nLet's make love 'til we die\nAnd let's fuck until we slump over\nBe my first aid, I know that you hate to see me bleed\nI don't deserve your love, I tend to fuck up everything\nIt feels like I'm not enough, 'nough, 'nough, no\nThis a conversation, not a love song\nYou might also like\nOur eyes locked, you can see the sadness\nMy heart stops, every time you call my name\nMy jaw drops, you fell from the stars, and I'm starstruck\nYou fell from the stars, girl, am I lost?\nWhen you're down, when you're sad, is it my fault?\nI apologize for all of the lies, oh\nI won't treat you like the rest of them guys, oh\n\nEverything that's wrong with me, is everything that's wrong with you\nYou threw the blade, I caught the knife\nI'm right back in your room tonight\nReflections in the broken glass\nNo, I can't fix your broken past\nCount my blessings, close my eyes\nI'm right back in your room tonight (Oh)\nI can't escape your shadow (Oh)\nI can't forget what we don't know (Oh)\nYour love is a sentence to death row\nAnd you've got a seat in the front row (Oh)\nHold me close, but you're cold as ice (Oh)\nWatch me choke on every line (Oh)\nAnd it feels like Hell tonight, it feels like Hell\n\nOur eyes locked, you can see the sadness\nMy heart stops, every time you call my name\nMy jaw drops, you fell from the stars, and I'm starstruck\nYou fell from the stars, girl, am I lost?\nWhen you're down, when you're sad, is it my fault?\nI apologize for all of the lies, oh\nI won't treat you like the rest of them guys, oh\nWe met in a Twilight Zone\nI fall apart but she keep me whole\nWe met on the West Coast\nBut I still see Miami in your soul\n\nOur eyes locked, you can see the sadness\nMy heart stops, every time you call my name\nMy jaw drops, you fell from the stars, and I'm starstruck\nYou fell from the stars, girl, am I lost?\nWhen you're down, when you're sad, is it my fault?\nI apologize for all of the lies, oh\nI won't treat you like the rest of them guys, oh\n\nI'm here to serve a purpose\nGirl, I know I ain't picture-perfect\nOne more thing I know for certain\nIf you leave, I'll close the curtains"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsDARK PLACE (demo) Lyrics\nLost in a dark place, lost in a dark place\nLost in a dark place\n\nLost in a dark place, trapped in the crawlspace\nIn my mind, I get lost, then I wake up in a coffin\nThey tell me they care, they're just in love with the music\nSo they'll never know about the pain I go through\nIt's like a chain of reactions, all these demon attacks\nFrom all the drugs that I'm taking to the women distracting me\nFrom being myself, it's like I'm losing my traction\nKiss death on the lips, I have a fatal attraction\nThis is my heart, watch as my problems inspire me\nTear me apart, won't let the demons take over me\nThey took it too far, now I need some surgery\nI'm falling apart\nIt's like I'm lost in the motions, use this song as a rope\nTo wrap around the commotion, tie the knot at my throat\nI look at death as a notion, I don't want it no more\nBut it's too late to reverse it, as I fall on the floor\n\nLost in a dark place, lost in a dark place\nDemons inspire me\nFloorYou might also like"}
{"text":"Ooh\nOh, oh, oh, oh, yeah\nBitches on me, that's often\nDoin' them beans often\nPurps on the beat\n\nShe know me well, well, well, she know me well (Uh-huh)\nTold me she loved me still, bitch, go to hell (Uh-huh)\nAll the drugs I did, it was worth it (Yeah)\nSuper worth it (Uh)\nTell me why you had me feelin' worthless (Yeah)\nNow your heart broken, you need a surgeon (Yeah)\nI know one thing for sure, one thing for certain (Yeah)\nI know one thing's for sure, one thing's for certain (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nWe ain't gon' do this, not again\nGucci cardigan, I'm the flyest gent\nI found out what the problem is, breakin' promises\nIt was the both of us\n\nOh, all girls the same, same, same\nTwo blue pills to the brain, brain, brain\nYeah, I kinda miss your brain\nAnd I bet you miss my fame\nYou might also like\nShe know me well, well, well, she know me well (Uh-huh)\nTold me she loved me still, bitch, go to hell (Uh-huh)\nAll the drugs I did, it was worth it (Yeah)\nSuper worth it (Uh)\nTell me why you had me feelin' worthless (Yeah)\nNow your heart broken, you need a surgeon (Yeah)\nI know one thing for sure, one thing for certain (Yeah)\nI know one thing's for sure, one thing's for certain (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nI bet I'll never die again\nBullets fly again, Cupid hit his target\nGuess he's been target practicing\nDevils panickin', it makes it worse for my heart\n\nOh, girls aren't the same, same, same\nBut it's still two pills to the brain, brain, brain\nI hope you never change, change, change\nI also hope we put the drugs away\n\nWell, well, well, well\nShe do me well\nI hope she loves me for real\n'Cause I been through hell\nAll the drugs I did\nThey weren't worth it, now I'm worthless\nI hope my new lady thinks I'm perfect, oh\nSometimes I feel like that she'll be better off\nWithout me but without her I would die, oh\nI would die, oh\nShe know me well, well, well, she know me well (Uh-huh)\nTold me she loved me still, bitch, go to hell (Uh-huh)\nAll the drugs I did, it was worth it (Yeah)\nSuper worth it (Uh)\nTell me why you had me feelin' worthless (Yeah)\nNow your heart broken, you need a surgeon (Yeah)\nI know one thing for sure, one thing for certain (Yeah)\nI know one thing's for sure, one thing's for certain (Yeah, yeah, yeah)"}
{"text":"I figured she was gonna break my heart regardless, regardless\nI figured she was gonna break my heart regardless\nSo I took her out and dumped her in the garbage\nThe stupid bitch done turned herself into a target\nClick, clack\n\nShe was gonna break my heart regardless\nSo I took her out and dumped her in the garbage\nThe stupid bitch done turned herself into a target (Yeah)\nJust for talkin', nonsense, claiming she was leavin'\n\nNot gonna happen\nIf I can't have you, no one can\n'Cause if you leave, I'm not breathin'\nI'll show you how it feels to not breathe, breathe\nInhale, exhale\nYou're the best, well\nYou're the worst, but\nYou're the best hell\nI ain't ever, ever gonna lose, lose\nTell me what I gotta do to prove to you\nFive seconds from losing my head\nNow it's time to show you what lunatics do\nYou might also like\nShe was gonna break my heart regardless\nSo I took her out and dumped her in the garbage\nThe stupid bitch done turned herself into a target (Yeah)\nJust for talkin', nonsense, claiming she was leavin'\nI figured she was gonna break my heart regardless\nSo I took her out and dumped her in the garbage\nThe stupid bitch done turned herself into a target (Yeah)\nJust for talkin', nonsense, claiming she was leavin'\n\nHate it when you tease\nWhere you think you're goin'? When you comin' back to me?\nYou walked in, I'm listening to \"Stan\" on E, yeah, ecstasy\nMatter of fact, there's a bridge that my car wants to meet\nRoad trip on me, it'll be fun, you'll see\nBut you don't gotta sit in this trunk, you can sit next to me\nFor me and Stan, we alike, but he ain't nicer than me\nHe was drunk drivin', me, I'm just straight Perc-ules\n\nMy crazy thoughts and your crazy heart\nAs we hit the bridge, that's just the start\nNot afraid to die, as you can see\nLife isn't real, love's make-believe\nMy crazy thoughts and your crazy heart\nAs we hit the bridge, that's just the start\nNot afraid to die, as you can see\nLife isn't real, love's make-believe"}
{"text":"Yeah\nBirthday, it's your birthday\nIf I die, bury me inside the Louie store\nHa, uh, uh\n\nThey ask me what I do and who I do it for (Yeah)\nAnd how I come up with this shit up in the studio (Yeah)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (True)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (Tell 'em)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the Gucci store (Tell 'em)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the Louie store (True)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (Yeah)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (2 Chainz)\n\nShe got a big booty so I call her Big Booty (Booty)\nSkrr, skrr, wrists movin', cookin', gettin' to it (Cookin')\nI'm in the kitchen (I'm in the kitchen), yams everywhere (Yams)\nJust made a juug (Just made a juug), I got bands everywhere (Bands)\nYou the realest nigga breathin' if I hold my breath (Damn)\nReferee with a whistle, brrrt, hold this tech (Baow)\nExtendo clip (Extendo clip), extendo roll (Extendo roll)\nWhen your girl leave me, she need a hair salon (Damn)\nHair-Hair Weave Killer goin' on a trapathon (Yeah)\nSee, I done had more bombs, than Pakistan (Boom)\nDope bomb, dro bomb and a pill bomb (Bomb)\nSee, nigga, I'm ballin', you in will call (True)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the jewelry store (2 Chainz)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the Truey store (True)\nTrue to my religion, two everything, I'm too different\nSo when I die, bury me next to two bitches (Two bitches)\nYou might also like\nThey ask me what I do and who I do it for (Yeah)\nAnd how I come up with this shit up in the studio (Yeah)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (True)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (Tell 'em)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the Gucci store (Tell 'em)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the Louie store (True)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (Yeah)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho\n\nAh, Yeezy, Yeezy, how you do it, huh?\nIt's my birthday, I deserve to be greedy, huh?\nShe holdin' out, she ain't givin' to the needy, huh?\nYou go downstairs and fall asleep with the TV on\nY'all been together ten years, you deserve a m\u00e9nage\n'Specially if you put that BMW in a garage\n'Specially if you paid a couple payments on her momma crib\nWent to her niece's graduation, man, I hate those kids\nLast birthday, she got you a new sweater\nPut it on, give her a kiss, and tell her \"Do better\"\nShe said, \"How 'bout I get you jewelry from the West End?\"\nHow 'bout she hit the Westin and get her best friend?\nHa, I'm jokin', I'm just serious, I asked her\n\"Don't be actin', like no actress, if we preachin', then we practice\nDon't be reachin', don't be touchin' shit, we in Kanye West's Benz\n'Cause I will turn you back to a pedestrian, hah\"\nThey ask me what I do and who I do it for (Yeah)\nAnd how I come up with this shit up in the studio (Yeah)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (True)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (Tell 'em)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the Gucci store (Tell 'em)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the Louie store (True)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (Yeah)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho\n\nIt's your birthday (Yeah), it's your birthday (Uh)\nBad bitch contest, you in first place\nYou in first place, you in first place\nBad bitch contest, you in first place\nI show up with a check to your workplace\nThen hand the valet the keys to the Merces\nTell the DJ play your song, this shit come on\nWhat I'm seein\u2019 from the back, I can't front on\nThey ask me what I do and who I do it for\nWhen I die, bury me inside the booty club\nGet it, girl, get it, girl, get it, get it, girl\nI might switch it up and get your girl\n\nThey ask me what I do and who I do it for (Yeah)\nAnd how I come up with this shit up in the studio (Yeah)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (True)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (Tell 'em)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the Gucci store (Tell 'em)\nWhen I die, bury me inside the Louie store (True)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho (Yeah)\nAll I want for my birthday is a big booty ho\nDeuce and Ye\nWe like Snoop and Dre\nIsn't this your birthday, baby?\nYou deserve a coupe today, woah\nYou in first place, you in first place\nBad bitch contest, you in first place"}
{"text":"EarDrummers, Mike WiLL Made-It\nYah! T.R.U., 2 Chainz!\n\nI am smokin' on that gas, life should be on Cinemax\nMovie, bought my boo bigger tits and a bigger ass\nWho he\u2019s? Not I, I smoke strong; that Popeye\nLouie V\u2019s in my archives, black diamonds; apartheid\nBread up and my top down, on the block with a block out\nHit your ass with that bla-kow, dope enough to go in yo' nostrils\nI take your girl and kidnap her, feed her to my mattress\nA skeleton in my closet, it's probably one of these dead-ass rappers\nIt's probably one of these pussy-ass niggas, don't try me, I'll pull that trigger\nGot your car note in my cup, and your rent in my Swisher\nThat pussy so good I miss ya, head game's so vicious\nAnd all I get is cheese, like I\u2019m takin' pictures\n\nYeah, I say fuck you, 'less I\u2019m with ya\nIf I take you out of the picture, I know real niggas won't miss ya\nNo lie, no lie, no lie-ee-i-ee-i\nNo lie, no lie, no lie-ee-i-ee-i\nReal niggas say word\nYou ain't never told no lie, you ain't never told no lie\nReal niggas say word\nYou ain't never told no lie, you ain't never told no lie\nReal niggas say true\nYou ain't never told no lie, you ain't never told no lie\nThat's a thing I don\u2019t do, nah, I just do it for the niggas\nThat are tryna see a million 'fore they die, whattup?\nYou might also like\n2 Chainz and Champagne, you want true? That\u2019s true enough\nForbes list like every year, my office is my tour bus\nShe came through, she brought food, she got fucked, she knew whassup\nShe think I\u2019m the realest out and I say, \"Damn, that makes two of us\"\nAww, that look like what\u2019s her name, chances are it\u2019s what's her name\nChances are if she was acting up then I fucked her once and never fucked again\nShe could have a Grammy, I still treat her ass like a nominee\nJust need to know what that pussy like so one time is fine with me\nYoung as an intern, but money like I built the shit\nStreets talkin', they'll confirm, go ask them who just killed the shit\nStay keepin' my cup full so I\u2019m extra charged like a state tax\nMe and Chainz go way back, we don\u2019t talk shit, we just state facts\nYes, Lord\n\nYeah, I say fuck you, 'less I\u2019m with ya\nIf I take you out of the picture, I know real niggas won't miss ya\nNo lie, no lie, no lie-ee-i-ee-i\nNo lie, no lie, no lie-ee-i-ee-i\nReal niggas say word\nYou ain't never told no lie, you ain't never told no lie\nReal niggas say word\nYou ain't never told no lie, you ain't never told no lie\nReal niggas say true\nYou ain't never told no lie, you ain't never told no lie\nThat's a thing I don\u2019t do\nNah, I just do it for the niggas\nThat are tryna see a million 'fore they die\nWhattup?\nName a nigga that want some, I\u2019ll out-rap his ass, out-trap his ass\nPut his ass in a plastic bag with his trashy ass, take him out\nBring 'em in, them whole things, 2Pac without a nose ring\nThug Life, one wife, a mistress and a girlfriend\nI did what they say I wouldn\u2019t, went where they say I couldn\u2019t (Tru!)\nYSL belt buckle, y\u2019all niggas sure is lookin'\nY\u2019all niggas sure is lucky, two chains on my rugby\nLeft hand on that steering wheel, right hand on that pussy\n\nYeah, I say fuck you, 'less I\u2019m with ya\nIf I take you out of the picture, I know real niggas won't miss ya\nNo lie, no lie, no lie-ee-i-ee-i\nNo lie, no lie, no lie-ee-i-ee-i\nReal niggas say word\nYou ain't never told no lie, you ain't never told no lie\nReal niggas say word\nYou ain't never told no lie, you ain't never told no lie\nReal niggas say true\nYou ain't never told no lie, you ain't never told no lie\nThat's a thing I don\u2019t do, nah, I just do it for the niggas\nThat are tryna see a million 'fore they die, whattup?\n\nWord, word, T.R.U"}
{"text":"Yeah\nYeah\n2 Chainz\nMustard on the beat, ho!\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nMiddle finger up to my competition\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different (Yeah)\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different (Yeah)\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different (Tru)\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\n\nPull up to the scene, but my roof gone (Roof gone)\nWhen I leave the scene, bet your boo gone (Boo gone)\nAnd I beat the pussy like a new song (Boom)\n2 Chainz, but I got me a few on (Yup)\nEverything hot, skip lukewarm (Ugh)\nTell shawty bust it open, Uncle Luke on\nGot the present for the present and a gift wrapping\nI don't feel good, but my trigger happy (Bah)\nBet the stripper happy, bet they wish they had me\nAnd I wish a nigga would, like a kitchen cabinet\nAnd me and you are cut from a different fabric\nI fucked her so good, it's a bad habit (DamN)\nBitch, sit down, you got a bad atti'\nGave her the wrong number and a bad addy (Tru)\nYou ain't going nowhere like a bad navi'\nAss so big, I told her to look back at it (Woah)\nLook back at it (Woah), look back at it (Woah)\nThen I put a fat rabbit on the Craftmatic\nI am so high ... attic\nI am so high, like a ... addict\nYou might also like\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nMiddle finger up to my competition\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different (Yeah)\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different (Ugh)\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\n\n2 Chainz, got your girl on the celly\nAnd when I get off the celly, I made her meet at the telly\nWhen she meet at the telly, I put it straight in her belly\nWhen it go in the belly, it ain't shit you can tell me, ugh (Ugh)\nHair long (Long), money long (Yeah)\nMe and broke niggas, we don't get along (Nah)\nHair long (Long), money long (Yeah)\nMe and broke niggas, we don't get along (Tell 'em)\nI paid a thousand dollars for my sneakers\n'Ye told you, a 100K for a feature\n\"Ee-err, ee-err\": sound of the bed (Bed)\nBeat it up, beat it up; then, I get some head (Head)\nWell, I might get some head; then, I beat it up\nI don't give a fuck, switch it up, nigga, live it up (Up)\nYeah, it's going down, so get up (Up)\nMight valet-park a Brinks truck (Ugh)\nMustard on the beat, ho!\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing\nMiddle finger up to my competition\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nI'm different, yeah, I'm different\nPull up to the scene with my ceiling missing"}
{"text":"Uhh, alright\nI did it, hahah, yeah\n\nUsed to treat my mattress like the ATM, yeah\nBond No. 9 that's my favorite scent, yeah\nCan't forget the kush, I'm talking OG, yeah\nRest in peace to pop, he was an OG, oh yeah\nI cannot forget I had that strap on me, yeah\nRest in peace to my nigga Doe (Troup)\nAll we ever want to do is ball\nThat was the easy part, we playing that Weezy hard\nWe sit in the kitchen late, we tryna to make an escape\nTrying to make me a mil', so I'ma keep me a plate\nI told 'em shawty can leave, so I'ma keep me a rake\nSo I'ma keep me a Wraith, my jewelry look like a lake\nToday I'm in the Maybach\nAnd that car came with some drapes\nYou know I look like a safe, I put you back in your place\nI look you right in your face, sing to your bitch like I'm Drake\nYeah\n\nGood drank, big knots\nGood drugs, I put a four on the rocks (lean!)\nDrop top, no hot box\n12 tried to pull me over, pink slips to the cops\nShe said the molly give her thizz face\nPut the dick in her rib cage\nWhips out, Kunta Kinte\nDiamonds clear like Bombay\nTake your babies, no Harambe\nPlay with keys like Doc Dre\n3K like Andr\u00e9\nAnd your girl, call her, come through\nYou might also like\nIt's Gucci! Huh (brr!) huh!\nYour trunk in the front\nWell check this out my top in the trunk\nYou play with my money\nThen check this out, yo, poppin' the trunk\nThree mil in a month\nBut I just did three years on a bunk\nOh, you in a slump\nI'm headed to Oakland like  Kevin Da Runt\nWhat is your point?\nSquare with the stamp, for Kevin Durant\nLay on on my trap\nPlay with my cap and I'll knock off your hat\nI'm taking the cheese and killing the rats\nGucci Mane, call me the cat with the racks\nI'm swervin', but I'm in back of the 'Bach\nI'm Persian, man I got hoes from Iraq\nI'm servin' I pay a bird for that\nHe nervous, ain\u2019t got no words for that\nHe hurt and want all of his purses back\nHe mixing the syrup with the Percocets\nShe perfect and she got perky breasts\nI just want some of that turkey neck\nTrapper of the year, I'm from Bouldercrest\nYou snitch of the year cause you told the bis'\nGood drank, big knots\nGood drugs, I put a four on the rocks\nDrop top, no hot box\n12 tried to pull me over, pink slips to the cops\nShe said the molly give her thizz face\nPut the dick in her rib cage\nWhips out Kunta Kinte\nDiamonds clear like Bombay\nTake your babies, no Harambe\nPlay with keys like Doc Dre\n3K like Andre\nAnd your girl, call her, come through\n\nAyy, Mike Dean\nThis shit hard as fuck, bruh\nYou a living legend, I appreciate that\nAyy, Guwop, I'm glad you home, cuz\nQuavo, you already know man\nYou got next on these niggas double salute man\nTrue shit, 2 Chainz!\nHair Weave Killer\nDaniel Son, the Necklace Don\nChapo Jr\nI mean, I can go on for days"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsFeds Watching Lyrics\nUh, oh, oh, oh\nTomorrow, tomorrow\nTomorrow, tomorrow (Yeah)\nTomorrow, tomorrow (I\u2019m talking right now)\nTomorrow, tomorrow (I\u2019m talking right now)\nAin\u2019t no such thing as tomorrow\nTomorrow, tomorrow\nTomorrow, tomorrow\nUh, the way we living today\nI\u2019m talking right now\nTomorrow, tomorrow\nDo, do, do, do, do\n(2 Chainz!)\n\nDreads hang on designer everything\nMr. Comme des Gar\u00e7ons, Mr. Alexander Wang\nMr. Chain, pinky ring, flow insane, ho insane\nMan, these shoes I got on, these the hardest I've done seen\nIt look clean when you pour it; I remix it make it dirty\nIf she got good head and text me I text back and tell her \"hurry\"\nThis that category 5 when I walk up in the strip club\nThrow it high, make you and George Washington head butt\nOG's never fed us, now young niggas fed up\nBallin' so hard I deserve a and one\nBaking soda marketing, I'm getting it ain't I? Obviously\nYou a bitch, you a ho, that's just my philosophy\nAnd I'm known to kick it like the captain of a soccer team\nBillie Jean red leather same color Red Lobster\nAnd she brain wash ya -- head doctor\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nYou might also like\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nDrop top, head bopping\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nDrop top, head bopping\n\nGrams to Grammys, two guns Yosemite\nNiggas put their Glock on your ass, fuck that Heather B\nPumping that amphetamine, all this D I'm peddling\nI be somewhere settling, somewhere that you have never been\nTo the top you never been, you might need a respirator\nMoney on the rise like I'm counting on an elevator\nYou gon' need a detonator swimming with them barracudas\nClose the docket on that ma'fucka prosecutor\nThis Armani, this Givenchy, I parachute you\nI'm so fly I jumped out the air wearing Gucci (Tell 'em!)\nI'm raw, talking California Rolls\nSmoking California weed with California hoes (Truu!)\nSending flicks to my partners in the state pen\nI just got some pants made out of snake skin\nSee them shades you got on called Ray-Bans\nAnd the shades I got on cost eight bands (damn)\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nDrop top, head bopping\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nI'ma be fresh as hell if the Feds watching\nDrop top, head bopping"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah, yeah\nM-M-M-Murda\nYeah, yeah\nDamn right, bro\n\n4 AM, I'm just gettin' started\nFor my birthday I threw me a surprise party\nReminiscin' 'bout the trap, playin' the first Carter\nMy life changed when I had my first daughter\nGot my first quarter flippin' 50 dollar slabs\nYour nigga's lookin' at the bills, askin' you for half\nCut from a different cloth, take pride in results\nAnytime she wanna dip I'm providin' the sauce\nYou on side of the boss, so you kind of the boss\nYou keep playin' with me, I end up signing your boss\nDrop an EP on a nigga for the free-free on a nigga\nYeah you ZZ on a nigga, king like BB on you niggas\nRock with Champagne P\nIf it wasn't for the struggle then I wouldn't be me\nCall me Deuce or Dos, anything but broke\nGot my aim from the scope, got the game by the throat, damn!\n\nOkay, you popped up on me by surprise (Yeah, yeah)\nYou see I never took you for the poppin' type (Straight up)\nDamn, it's 4 AM so please believe the hype (It's lit)\nHit the lights (Yeah), I'm way over top\nPop it, flick it\nDrop a pin, send a location (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI'ma pull up in that bullet-coupe spaceship (Skrrt, skrrt)\nDrop off a bag of some dangerous (Yeah)\nI'ma hit you, 4 AM, see if you make it (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nI dropped ColleGrove out the sky, ooh\nIn a group with the best rapper that's alive, ooh\nNever turn my back on my slime, ooh\nI ain't wanna fuck the bitch but she was fine, ooh\nHold up baby, let me take my time, ooh\nHard to get some head and try to drive, ooh\nJumpin' out the cake and that's surprisin', ooh\nPickin' up the duffel bag like exercisin', ooh\nBought mama new house 'cause she deserve it, ooh\nPractice makes perfect but nobody's perfect, ooh\nEscobar is not open for service, ooh\nSend you to Dr. Miami for your surgery, ooh\n\nOkay, you popped up on me by surprise (Yeah, yeah)\nYou see I never took you for the poppin' type (Straight up)\nDamn, it's 4 AM so please believe the hype (It's lit)\nHit the lights (Yeah), I'm way over top\nPop it, flick it\nDrop a pin, send a location (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI'ma pull up in that bullet-coupe spaceship (Skrrt, skrrt)\nDrop off a bag of some dangerous (Yeah)\nI'ma hit you, 4 AM, see if you make it (Yeah)\n\nOoh, Riccardo Tisci on the crewneck\nOoh, on a killin' rapper spree and nigga, you next\nOoh, they talkin', chillin', watchin' Netflix (Straight up)\nOoh, I used to trap and watch bootlegs\nOoh, I'm on my wave like a durag\nOoh, I see your boo, now where your crew at?\nOoh, talkin' tequila for the pipe-up\nOoh, I hope you got a clean vagina, yeah\nDrench god, drench god, really\nRepresentin', we the squad, really (Oh, yeah)\nTec got the Rollie, now I get it\nI used to sell drugs for a living\nGot me a job sellin' records\nHad to use my jeweler for a reference\nMight buy a charm with the extras\nMight use her legs for a necklace\nOkay, you popped up on me by surprise (Yeah, yeah)\nYou see I never took you for the poppin' type (Straight up)\nDamn, it's 4 AM so please believe the hype (It's lit)\nHit the lights (Yeah), I'm way over top\nPop it, flick it\nDrop a pin, send a location (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI'ma pull up in that bullet-coupe spaceship (Skrrt, skrrt)\nDrop off a bag of some dangerous (Yeah)\nI'ma hit you, 4 AM, see if you make it (Yeah)\n\nDon't stop trappin', boy\nGot 'bout 12 racks this mornin'\nGot 'bout 12 racks\nStarted last night, still goin'\n12 racks strong\nGot the pitbull in the corner, she pregnant\nGot the crackhead in the corner, she pregnant\nEverybody in here pregnant, 'cept my partner and them\nBut we gettin' this money though, I'm tellin' you that"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsWatch Out Lyrics\nYo\nOkay\nAll my niggas with me\nAll my niggas with it\nAll my niggas ballin'\nAll my niggas athletic\nAll my niggas A1\nAll got street cred\nAll my niggas ballin'\nAll my niggas athletic\n\nPulled up in a Phantom\nPulled off with a dancer\nGot a pocket full of money\nKinda hard to keep my pants up\nNigga tryna run them bands up\nFuck a bitch with my hands up\nLil Quay fuck the Xans up\nKinda hard to understand her\nDuffle bags in the Escalade\nCall the bitch, there a bread truck\nGot the bitch going retarded\nCall Uber for a spare truck\nAll these niggas never scared us\nAll these niggas never ran up\nBitch tryna put the head on me\nNiggas tryna put the feds on me!\nNiggas tryna take meds on me\nEverything for the players only\nNiggas sunny like Arizona\nGunshots just for sayin' something\nSpraying shit like aerosol\nYou a foul and that's a fair ball\nNigga can't reach the goals\nKeep shootin' them damn air balls\nYou might also like\nWatch out, lil bitch\nWatch out, lil bitch\nWatch out, lil bitch\nUh, watch out, lil bitch\nYou getting mad\nI'm getting rich!\nYou getting mad\nAnd I'm getting rich!\nWatch out, lil bitch\nWatch out, lil bitch\nWatch out, lil bitch (Stiff arm)\nHey, watch out, lil bitch\nYou getting mad\nI'm getting rich\nYou getting mad\nBitch, I'm getting rich\n\nWatch out, lil ho\nMy partners still smoke on parole\nThey say that I'm crazy\nI used to talk to a stove\nI tell it to lock, shit, I tell it a lot\nGo to the dealership, fishtail off the lot\nYou know I'm comin' straight out the block\nYou know I'm comin' straight of the top\nShawty said she want 5 million\n'Cause I told her to leave and called her a thot\nShit, you can like it or not, damn\nI'm comin' straight out the pot\nStill got some Act' in my stock\nNigga I ain't gotta lie\nNigga I ain't gotta try\nYou wavin' that thing in the sky?\nWe wavin' that thing at your body\nWe wavin' that thing at your eye!\nLook at the watch on my wrist\nGot 'em all watchin' my wrist\nTold that lil bitch I'll pass\nNigga watch the assist\nI run the trap like the marathon\nYou niggas softer than silicone\nYou know what it's like when the feelin' gone\nI know what it's like when the ceilin' gone\nI had a sit down with Farrakhan\nTurn the White House to the Terrordome\nI used to serve at the Chevron\nI used to serve with my necklace on, bitch!\nWatch out, lil bitch\nWatch out, lil bitch\nWatch out, lil bitch\nUh, watch out, lil bitch\nYou getting mad\nI'm getting rich\nYou getting mad\nAnd I'm getting rich\nWatch out, lil bitch\nWatch out, lil bitch\nWatch out, lil bitch\n(Stiff arm)\nHey, watch out, lil bitch\nYou getting mad\nI'm getting rich\nYou getting mad\nBitch, I'm getting rich\n"}
{"text":"Yeah, hahaha\nYeah, ooh\nM-M-M-Murda\nYah\n\nThat's a vibe (that's a vibe)\nShe wanna vibe, yeah (wanna vibe)\nThat's a vibe (that's a vibe)\nYeah, uh (that's a vibe)\nThat's a vibe (that's a vibe)\nIt's a vibe (it's a vibe)\nThat's a vibe, yeah (that's a vibe)\nYeah, yeah (that's a vibe)\nOh that's a vibe (that's a vibe)\nOh it's a vibe (it's a vibe)\nThat's a vibe (that's a vibe, that's a vibe, yeah, yeah)\nThat's a vibe (that's a vibe)\nShe wanna vibe, yeah (wanna vibe)\nThat's a vibe, yeah\nYeah, yeah\n\nYeah, that's a vibe\nShe wanna vibe\nThat's a vibe\nThis shit vibe, yeah, yeah\nLate night\nOh it's a vibe\nLet me slide\nOh it's a vibe, yeah, yeah\nDim the lights\nOh it's a vibe, yeah\nGet high\nIt's a vibe, oh it's a vibe, yeah\nYou might also like\nIt's a vibe\nDon't you like?\nYour pussy drippin'\nGushin', drippin' down your thighs\nIt's a vibe\nGet high\nDiggin' deep while I'm lookin' in your eyes\nVibe is the realest\nI know you feel it (yah)\nIt's a vibe (vibe)\nDifferent vibe\nThis my vibe, nigga\nAll the bitches like it\n\nOkay, so I got the ambiance just where I want it (yeah)\nAnd if you get paid, it's solely based on your performance (TRU)\nMy ego is enormous like my crib in California (hmm)\nIf you ain't got no heart, man you gonna need a donor\nNow I said I'm from the corner of the ATL (yah)\nWhere we got that clientele, avoid paper trails (right)\nBroke so many bales down that I'm shell shocked (bow)\nI held Glocks, sold rocks by the mailbox (ooh)\nGot a vibe, make a yellow chick turn her neck (alright)\nGot a vibe, make a cougar wanna spend a check (check)\nGot a vibe, make an Asian want hibachi (hibachi)\nGot a vibe, make Italian want Versace (Versace)\nCarbon copies get declined, I'm the pioneer\nBeat that pussy up, I need riot gear\nAny volunteers?\nGas in a Ziploc, now that's loud and clear\nThis one outta here, this is our year\nThat's a vibe\nThat's a vibe\nThat's a vibe\nOh that's a vibe, yeah, yeah\nThat's a vibe\nIt's a vibe\nIt's a vibe\nThat's a vibe, yeah, yeah\nIt's a vibe\nAm I your type?\nPussy tight\nMaybe I'll spend the night, yeah, yeah\nThat's a vibe\nBust it, bust it wide\nThis the type of shit I like, yeah, yeah\nThat's a vibe\nIt's a vibe\nThat's a vibe\nOh it's a vibe, yeah, yeah\nIt's a vibe, yeah, yeah, yeah"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsCrack Lyrics\nHey Jack, start that beat from the ti'nop\nYeah, Based on a T.R.U. Story, uh started from the trap now I rap (yeah) no matter where im at I got crack (crack)\n\nStarted from the trap, now I rap\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\nI got cr'nack, yeah, I got cr'nack\nGot that cr'nack, yeah, I got cr'nack\nStarted from the trap, now I rap\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\n\nStanding on them blocks, selling hi'nard\nI be going dumb, I be going retard\nWith no regard for no br'noad\nPi'nark my car, bitch I'm from Collipi'nark\nSouthside, outside, and I'm ridin' round, I get it\nAnd I look around, they took my style\nLike mothafucka you trippin'\nLet me slow it down 'fore I get a ticket\nNigga want a verse from me, it's gon' cost a chicken\nRearview mirror, shake it like a stripper ho\nCar so big it got a stripper pole\nI'm balling, ballin like a give and g'no\nAll I talk is crack, I can get the rico\nYou might also like\nStarted from the trap, now I rap\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\nI got cr'nack, yeah, I got cr'nack\nGot that cr'nack, yeah, I got cr'nack\nStarted from the trap, now I rap\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\n\nShawty got some real good P'nuss\nIf that shit stink, then she need to di'nush\nNo I'm not a killer but no p'nush\nGet fucked, get slugged, bet you won't even get up\nThis us, 2 guns in my Adidas\nI'm from the A, you a C+\nYou niggas can't even see us\nEar muffs from Neiman, Marcus\nI'm like c'mon let's start this\nKeep it real my deparment\nVersace my garment, yeah\nI don't give a fi'nuck\nI don't give a fi'nuck\nMake her suck my di'nick, till that bitch hiccup\nAnd when she call my phi'none, I won't even pick up\nStarted from the trap, now I rap\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\nI got cr'nack, yeah, I got cr'nack\nGot that cr'nack, yeah, I got cr'nack\nStarted from the trap, now I rap\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\n\nThousand eight grams in my b'nag\nI be making jewels, work be moving f'nast\nAnd you need to mind your fucking bi'naz\nGet cash, get it fast, this a paper ti'nag\nNew car, you are not me forget it!\nI got more hoes than four hoes\nI had a foursome for Christmas!\nLet me turn it down my baby mama listening\nExtra garlic butter I got Benihana issues\nTrigga finger itchin' like it's poison ivy\nGoing so hard Viagra trying to sign me\nI might get an endorsement from baking soda\nCatch me cooking crack trying to make a Rollie!\n\nStarted from the trap, now I rap\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\nI got cr'nack, yeah, I got cr'nack\nGot that cr'nack, yeah, I got cr'nack\nStarted from the trap, now I rap\nNo matter where I'm at, I got crack\nCrack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack\nCrack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack\nCrack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack\nCrack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack\nCrack, crack, crack, crack, crack, crack\nAll I talk is crack, I can get the RICO!"}
{"text":"I'ma tell you, I'ma tell you this right now\nIf you, if you woke up this mornin', nigga you winnin' for real\n(Buddah Bless this beat)\n\nI got a big amount, I took a different route\nI am the pick of the litter\nI was in juvy, they gave me community\nI had to pick up some litter\nI want it easy, please do not tease me\nI wore my Yeezys to dinner\nThis is the season, I got the seasonin'\nDon't make me sprinkle you niggas\nI got my reasons, you wanna please me\nSend me the pussy, not pictures\nMet her this week and fucked her this evenin'\nShe turn a freak on the liquor\nYeah, I am a boss on these bitches\nYeah, I pour some Voss on these bitches\nYeah, I have no thoughts on these bitches\nYeah, rock double-cross on these bitches, yeah\nDearly departed, gather today\nOn some Prince shit\nYou know what they say\nMe and my safe, got a friendship\nTen on me, thin weight, flip weight, gettin' paid\nGettin' laid\nBitch made, took off sick days\n6 trey, 6-4 bounce, bitch, bounce\nHood nigga, favorite spot was the Waffle House\nPatty melt with the hash browns\nTryna avoid all the pat-downs\nTryna avoid all the lame hoes\nWeirdos in the background\nBlackout when I back out\nBlow the horn for a pedestrian\nShawty ride like an equestrian\nI bought the dress that she in\nRed bottoms in his and hers\nGot a Rollie in his and hers\nGot a car in his and hers\nWalk in the zoo and say, \"Pick a fur\"\nLast night was a blur to me\nThis mornin' I got two with me\nI don't know what to do with me\nGoin' ape like the zoo with me\nGot a tool with the screw missin'\nTwo girls in the pool kissin'\nEverywhere I go, the rod with me\n'Cause these niggas actin' too fishy\nYou might also like\nFuck y'all niggas on, man?\nDuffle bag forever\nJust left V Live\nAtlanta could never die as long as Tit alive\nYeah\n\nLook, I got a big amount\nI think I'm the biggest out\nGot hits and I ain't even put 'em out\nLit and you can't even put it out\nGot the Billboard melodies\nRap is somethin' I do on the side\nCrossed over to the other side\nAnd I didn't even have to die\nGot the money and I never show it\nLet a nigga try to play heroic\nMichael Jackson talkin' to me in my dreams\nAnd he say, \"You bad and you know it\"\nBetter shamone with my check then\nI'm a J. Prince investment\nNiggas love to talk reckless\nThen see me like best friends\nGot the sand-colored FN\nAnd I've never seen the inside of a Marriott or a Westin\nFive stars, nothin' less than\nFuck niggas on your payroll\nAnd you let 'em know the safe code\nAnd you knew him for a month though\nBut you call them niggas big bro\nYou could move in the Hidden Hills\nAnd we still don't live by the same code\nI'm respected everywhere I go\nNigga, long live Bankroll\nSkip the rainbow, funny style shit\nAnd it's straight to the pot of gold\nSomebody, everybody know\n6 God with the god flow\nYeah, yeah"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsI Luv Dem Strippers Lyrics\nLet's play big bank take little bank\nYou are looking at a shark in a fish tank\nWhen I'm in the kitchen, I make plenty cash\nTell shawty come here, she got plenty ass\n\nYeah, I love them strippers\nYeah, I love them strippers\nYeah, I love them strippers\nYeah, I love them strippers\nIn my foreign car, got the trunk by the engine\nSo when I back back, I'm fronting on you niggas\n\nFirst I pack back, Louis backpack\nWhere's Paris Hilton? Where's Kat Stacks?\nI'm Rambo with this ammunition, my camo come from Tru Religion\nThem broke hoes can't pay attention\nYour cutie missing, New Edition\nMr. Telephone man, there's something wrong with my line\nWhen I call my baby's number, I get a click every time\nEvery line is dope, you can snort it\nWorking in the pot, I can make it do aerobics\nI'm haterphobic, they mad cause I'm winning\nThey busy high and catching, mad cause I'm pinching\nAll my bitches different, all my diamonds glistening\nMy weed so loud, everybody listen\nThey say it's for the birds, so I bought a kilo\nMy Boost Mobile chirping, it must be my amigo\nYou might also like\nYeah, I love them strippers\nYeah, I love them strippers\nYeah, I love them strippers\nYeah, I love them strippers\nIn my foreign car, got the trunk by the engine\nSo when I back back, I'm fronting on you niggas\n2 Chainz, you fucking crazy, muhfuckas know, I'm fucking crazy\nFuck wrong with these bitches lately?\nBitches better get on they knees and praise me\nBitch, I rep that Rich Gang, where's Stunna? Where's Wayne?\nThat's red on my wristband, SB, Mack Maine\nTell Tyga, lookin' for this bitch called Blac Chyna\nTake a nigga bitch in a hot flash, menopause hot flash\nYes, that's why I'm crowned queen\nAnd I ain't lookin' for the prom king\nThese hoes' careers ain't promising\nKilling these bitches, crime scene\nOhh, that's how a bitch do it\nFifty black trucks gonna follow when I pull up\nThis shit hit you in the chin, like a pull up\nMy door so cocky, my door so stuck up\nOhh, hop up out the space car\nBitches, stay pressed, I call them a space bar (Bar)\nMan, I wish a bitch would\nHundred-thousand dollar engine, I wish a bitch could\nYeah, I love them strippers (Yeah)\nYeah, I love them strippers (Yeah)\nYeah, I love them strippers (Yeah)\nYeah, I love them strippers (Yeah)\nIn my foreign car, got the trunk by the engine\nSo when I back, back, I'm fronting on you niggas\nYeah, I love them strippers (Yeah)\nYeah, I love them strippers (Yeah)\nYeah, I love them strippers (Yeah)\nYeah, I love them strippers (Yeah)\nIn my foreign car, got the trunk by the engine\nSo when I back, back, I'm fronting on you niggas\n\nWait I don't even think these niggas understood what the fuck I just said\nI said, hundred-thousand dollar engine\nI wish a bitch could, like the little engine that could, ya dig!\n2 Chainz (Kyuh)"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsYuck! Lyrics\nYuck daddy\nYuck daddy\n\nCut the top off, call it Amber Rose\nJust bought a big body, time to paint the toes\nKnown to act a donkey on the camel-toe\nThen take the camel-toe and turn it into casserole\n2 Chainz talking on the FLX phone\nPoof, just like that the whole check gone\nFormer Posturepedic I was slept on\nSo many chains on it look like my neck gone\nMy girl came through and brought an extra body\nNow that's an after party for the after party\nTwo-gun gang, all-black Ferrari\nHis and her Armani, put it in her tummy\nAnd yeah, the bread good if the head good\nBefore Benihana's it was canned goods\nBefore canned goods it was Similac\nI'm from where they send shots then we send em back\nA half a million dollars worth of crack money\nWrap your parents up, now you got a black mommy\nYeah I did it, true to my religion\nTwo guns on me, both with extensions\nIf you on the pole, play your position\nI got enough dough to pay your tuition\nCorduroy Trues, with the skull cap\nI just woke up, tell me where the drugs at\nAnd after the drugs, where the girls at\nAnd after the girls, where the love at\nAnd if it ain't no love, I'm like fuck that\nNigga I'm so dope, you could catch a fucking contact\nYou might also like\nGood weed, bad bitch\nGot these hoes on my dick like Brad Pitt\nWhoa, I seen it all before\nThe bitch got a man but she scheming on the low, how it go?\nIt go fuck them other niggas cause I'm down for my niggas\nMy homies got the blickers, automatics, no clickers\nHah, codeine, no liquor\nMan life is a bitch, mine is a gold digger\nI'm fucked, let's fuck\nShe said she on her period, I said \"Yuck\"\nI called another bopper, I beat it like a copper\nTwo big chains, one big chopper, bitch\n\nYeah, I got the chopper for the correspondents\nThe codeine got me standing horizontal\nI had enough of the broken promises\nSo I'm in a room full of Pocahontases\nAnd this shit is off the meat rack\nWeed sack, big car, laying with my seat back\nWe next, we ain\u2019t never left, hollerin' we back\nAll this ice on me and my niggas playing freeze tag\nLord forgive me, this my fourth foreign\nIf you baby daddy lame, you should forewarn him\nI come through with the yopper on\nTurn that nigga into hot bologna\nI'm the type a nigga cop a Rollie, cop a Benz, cop a tool\nThen wear it all to church, nigga, halleluj'\nUh, I'm from the trap where the block'll pay you\nMe and my nigga pass your ho like a hot potato\nI be like, \"You could get her\", he be like, \"You could get her\"\nI be like, \"You could have her\", he be like, \"You could have her\"\nHe be like, \"It don't matter\", I be like, \"Me neither\"\nUh, my old school got twenty-sixes on it\nAnd I got you girl kissing on me, mwah!\nGood weed, bad bitch\nGot these hoes on my dick like Brad Pitt\nWhoa, I seen it all before\nThe bitch got a man but she scheming on the low, how it go?\nIt go fuck them other niggas cause I'm down for my niggas\nMy homies got the blickers, automatics, no clickers\nHah, codeine, no liquor\nMan life is a bitch, mine is a gold digger\nI'm fucked, let's fuck\nShe said she on her period, I said \"Yuck\"\nI called another bopper, I beat it like a copper\nTwo big chains, one big chopper, bitch\n\nYuck daddy, yuck\nYuck daddy, yuck\nYuck-yuck-yuck daddy\nTwo big chains, one big chopper\nTwo big chains, one-one big chopper\nTwo-two big chains, one-one big chopper\nTwo big chains, one big chopper, bitch"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsK.O. Lyrics\nYeah\nYeah\nOkay\nJust try it again\n\nWhen I woke up this morning (Morning), all I could think about was you (You, you, you)\n'Cause when I went to sleep last night, all I could think about was you (You, you, you, you)\nAdam and Eve, don't eat that fruit\nBest believe I'ma eat that, boo\n'Cause I'm the nigga that told them niggas that told them niggas 'bout you (You, you, you, you)\nChuck the deuce while I'm riding through (Yeah)\nTity Boi, I might sign a boob (Yeah)\nYour nigga hating, tell your nigga that's hating that if he getting some paper, I might sign him too (Oh)\nBest believe I'm just sliding through\nPull your panties to the side, let me slide through\nI can see you niggas from the side view\nI'm in and out the pussy, drive through (Oh)\nWhite coupe with the white rims\nI like to crank the top and let the light in\nYou know she dark skin, her friend light skin\nPut us together and it's ice cream (Oh)\nSandwich it, she can't manage it\nI know her man is sick, she can't handle it\nShe need some time alone, I told her, \"Call my phone\", and when she called my phone, I didn't answer it (Ow)\nYou might also like\nK.O. (K.O.), K.O. (K.O.), K.O. (K.O.), K.O. (K.O.)\nYou wanna smoke 'til your niggas can't smoke no more (Ha)\nRoll 'til your bitches can't roll no more\nK.O. (K.O.), K.O. (K.O.), K.O. (Knock you down), K.O. (Knock you down)\nYou wanna pour 'til your niggas can't pour no more (Yeah)\nBlow 'til your bitches can't blow no more (Ooh)\nK.O. (K.O.), K.O. (Let me hit it), K.O. (Let me hit it), K.O. (Knock you down)\nYou wanna smoke 'til your niggas can't smoke no more (Ha)\nRoll 'til your bitches can't roll no more (Ooh)\nK.O. (K.O.), K.O. (Knock you down), K.O. (Let me hit it), K.O. (Let me hit it)\nYou wanna pour 'til your niggas can't pour no more (Yeah)\nBlow 'til your bitches can't blow no more\n\nDo it\nI was in Detroit, Michigan not too long ago, uh, visiting with some friends of mine\nB-I-G\n\nOkay, I'm in motion, I'm rolling and smoking\nAnd smoking and rolling like I'm locomotion\nI'm walking outside and I'm causing commotions\nGot purp' and champagne, that's a real nigga potion\nI'm burning bread, toasting and joking\n'Cause I went from views of my mom's house to views of the ocean (Woah)\nNiggas talk shit, but that's free promotion\nI'm living my life like the end is approaching\nMan, fuck these niggas with a passion (Okay)\nI'm getting paid from the cradle to the casket (Do it)\nMy Grandma said, \"Boy, you need to read a Bible chapter\"\n'Til I bought her ass a house bigger than the pastor's, Hallelujah ('Lujah)\nYou're now fucking with a bad bitch connoisseur ('Seur)\nMy ex-girl said, \"Man, the fame caught up to you\" (To you)\nBaby, you don't still think about me (What you mean?)\nWet dream about me (What you mean?)\nI swear you use to couldn't wait to K.O.\u00a0\nK.O. (K.O., Boy), K.O. (K.O., B-I-G), K.O. (K.O., Boy), K.O. (K.O., Sean Don)\nYou wanna smoke 'til your niggas can't smoke no more (Ha, Yeah)\nRoll 'til your bitches can't roll no more (Oh, yeah)\nK.O. (K.O., K, K.O.), K.O. (K.O.), K.O. (Knock you down, K.O.), K.O. (Knock you down)\nYou wanna pour 'til your niggas can't pour no more (Yeah, Boy, boy, boy)\nBlow 'til your bitches can't blow no more (Ooh)\nK.O. (K.O.), K.O. (Let me hit it), K.O. (Let me hit it), K.O. (Knock you down)\nYou wanna smoke 'til your niggas can't smoke no more (Ha)\nRoll 'til your bitches can't roll no more (Ooh)\nK.O. (K.O., K.O.), K.O. (Knock you down), K.O. (Let me hit it), K.O. (Let me hit it)\nYou wanna pour 'til your niggas can't pour no more (Yeah)\nBlow 'til your bitches can't blow no more (Oh, yeah)\n\nBoy, boy, boy, boy"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsLike Me Lyrics\n'Cause girl I'm just a bird\nDon't make me make you fall in love\nDon't make me make you fall in love with a nigga like me\nLike me\n'Cause girl, I'm just a bird\nDon't make me make you fall in love\nDon't make me make you fall in love with a nigga like me\nLike me\n'Cause girl I'm just a bird\nGirl, I'm just another bird\nDon't make me make you fall in love with a nigga like me\nLike me (yah, uh, 2 Chainz!)\n\nThey ain\u2019t never seen a nigga like me (uh)\nShe ain't never seen a nigga like me (uh)\nChance of that is unlikely, 2 Chainz on my white T\nI wipe her down and I pipe her down\nI give my girl money to go out of town\nYou give your girl money to go to Niketown\nAnd I one-night her, you must like her\nKill niggas with one-liners, all I need is one lighter\nCounting so much money (so much money) I got arthritis\nSo cold I frostbite 'em, no Pig Latin but I hog-tied 'em\nIf she gets this dizick then I (make her fall in love)\nWith a nigga like me I\u2019m killing this beat\nSkeet, skeet, skeet, skeet, skeet on my sheets\nOn top or from the back, I thundercat like (ho!)\nMy girl got a big purse with a purse in it\nAnd her pussy so clean, I can go to church in it!\nOh Lord, O-M-G, I am the O-N-E\nHow ya like me now? It\u2019s cool but she want mo' D\nMoet by the fireplace, this is how desire taste\nAnd I\u2019m bout to buy a case (le'go)\nYou might also like\n'Cause girl, I'm just a bird\nDon't make me make you fall in love (yeah)\nDon't make me make you fall in love with a nigga like me (uh)\nLike me (I mean that ain't just doing it like that, baby)\n'Cause girl, I'm just a bird\nI'm just another bird (T.R.U.)\nDon't make me make you fall in love with a nigga like me (uh)\nLike me (yeeeeeah!)\n\nBon apetite, they obsolete\nYou know talk is cheap so don't say a word\nCheep, cheep, chicken talk, I\u2019m flipping birds, fuck y'all\nMustard, ketchup, I take pills, expert\nKitchen all pyrexed up, if my dick talked, it would say \"Next up!\"\nMe and yo girl networked, now she wanna know my net worth\nWood grain, chestnut, titty fuck, chest nut!\nMove shit, UPS truck, pull a lil' out n out the rest up\nCompetition need to rest up (make her fall in love)\nI aim at ya head, put the vest up, matter fact put the vest up!\nThis shit I\u2019m shootin is penetrating, you don\u2019t want this situation\nTall nigga with a short temper\nI do this for niggas who never had shit\nAnd now I got me a bad bitch\nThat got a bad bitch that got a bad bitch\n\"T.R.U. Story\", high like, two stories\n2 Chainz and Tity Boi, nigga, that\u2019s two stories, who want it?\nHair Weave Killer, they like \"you want it\"\nI go swimming in that pussy, 'bout to throw a pool party\n'Cause girl, I'm just a bird\nDon't make me make you fall in love\nDon't make me make you fall in love with a nigga like me\nLike me\n'Cause girl, I'm just a bird\nGirl, I'm just another bird\nDon't make me make you fall in love with a nigga like me\nLike me"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsUsed 2 Lyrics\n\nI still fuck 'em like I used to\nI need to put that shit on YouTube\nCause you know we got that dancefloor crazy\nSingle ladies come and have my baby\nI still fuck 'em like I used too\nI need to put that shit on YouTube\nCause you know we got that dancefloor crazy\nHey, my nigga, come and grab your lady\n\nYeah, I'm the nigga, yeah, don't forget it, yeah\nGold Nefertiti , yeah, Lamborghini, yeah\nMan in my city, yeah, they call me Tity, yeah\nBad bitch with me, yeah, she's sidity, yeah\nGot her hair fixed, yeah, kinda thick, yeah\nShawty known to strip, yeah, for the rent, yeah\nTryna do a split, yeah, oh shit, yeah\nCan you do a split, yeah? On a dick, yeah?\nYou can\u2019t do it with a dick in you\nYou can\u2019t do it like that with a dick in you, uh\nYou can't do it with a dick in you\nYou can\u2019t do it like that with a dick in you, bitch!\nYou might also like\nI still fuck 'em like I used to\nI need to put that shit on YouTube\nCause you know we got that dancefloor crazy\nSingle ladies come and have my baby\nI still fuck 'em like I used too\nI need to put that shit on YouTube\nCause you know we got that dancefloor crazy\nHey, my nigga, come and grab your lady\n\nWatch how I grab her, yeah, I'mma stab her, yeah\nPut it in her bladder, yeah, don't compare me, yeah\nFlyin' out to Cali, yeah, in my Ballys, yeah\nWe go to Miami, yeah, that my family, yeah\nATL my hood, yeah, understood, yeah\nShout out to New Orleans, yeah, it's all good, yeah\nWatch how I do, yeah, I'm a fool, yeah\nShawty want that wood, yeah,that pussy good, yeah\nLet me see you twerk it, let me see if you can twerk it\nLet me see you twerk it, let me see if you can twerk it\nLet me see you twerk it, let me see if you can twerk it\nLet me see you twerk it, let me see if you can twerk it, bitch!\n\nI still fuck 'em like I used to\nI need to put that shit on YouTube\nCause you know we got that dancefloor crazy\nSingle ladies come and have my baby\nI still fuck 'em like I used too\nI need to put that shit on YouTube\nCause you know we got that dancefloor crazy\nHey, my nigga, come and grab your lady\nGet low like this\nGet low like this\nUp, do it, up, shake it\nWipe, down, outfit\nI get money like I used to\nChains on, I use two\nGuns on me like I used to\nI'll fuck ya ass on YouTube (a million views!)\n\nI still fuck 'em like I used to\nI need to put that shit on YouTube\nCause you know we got that dancefloor crazy\nSingle ladies come and have my baby\nI still fuck 'em like I used too\nI need to put that shit on YouTube\nCause you know we got that dancefloor crazy\nHey, my nigga, come and grab your lady"}
{"text":"98 ContributorsI Do It Lyrics\nThank God for the first nigga to start trapping\nThank God for the first nigga to start rapping\nThank God for the first girl to start stripping\nAnd I'ma have to keep it muh'fuckin' real with 'em\nI got a problem, with these niggas\nI got a problem, with these bitches\nTrigger finger, keep itchin'\nWell I'll pull it, I'll do it, yeah\n\nYeah! Hang up on a bitch, call it crucified\nTime to go to work, no suit and tie\nBumpin' Makaveli, I be trappin' out the telly\nMy nigga did a dime and he back already\nGot that sack already, man we got them racks already\nAs far as your girl, I hit it from the back already\nI tried to get a tan, but I'm black already\nYour pockets on a diet, my pockets fat already\nThree niggas with me, me myself and I\nGod don't like ugly, you should testify\nMy T-shirt come from Bergdorf\nI make so much on a verse I take the third off\nBird call, swerve off\nBust a nut on her, tell her that's a load off\nShorty ass soft, like a Nerf ball\nIf you don't like what I'm doing, nigga, fuck y'all\nYou might also like\nThank God for the first nigga to start trapping\nThank God for the first nigga to start rapping\nThank God for the first girl to start stripping\nAnd I'ma have to keep it muh'fuckin' real with 'em\nI got a problem, with these niggas\nI got a problem, with these bitches\nTrigger finger, keep itchin'\nWell I'll pull it, I'll do it, yeah\n\nDrank in my cup holder, hope this shit don't spill\nPull up in the new edition and that's word to Johnny Gill\nHow I come up with this shit and all these verses that I kill?\nI have no imagination, everything I do for real\nBitch I'm camouflaged, down put your camera phone down\nIf she got a ass and the girl a fan, it's going down\nI'ma fuck you like I've been waiting a century for it\nGive the pussy up and I'll trade you the memory for it\nIn the bedroom forever, that's what her roommate will tell you\nMan I just hear this shit and think about what Tunechi will tell you\nHe might call up Patricia, she 'bout to call up Melissa\nTell 'em come to the cribbo and do them both, double dribble\nI'm colder than a hospital, she love the dick that I give her\nHit her from the front, back, side, twist her like cigarillos\nI put the gun to the pillow, I don't want blood on my clothes\nGotta keep that Trukfit fresh, shoutout to all of my hoes\n(Tunechi) That's just how my OG would sum it up\nI been working all winter just to fuck the summer up\nIt's just me and 2 Chainz, but the chain's never tucked though\nIf you don't like what I'm doing, nigga fuck y'all\nThank God for the first nigga to start trapping\nThank God for the first nigga to start rapping\nThank God for the first girl to start stripping\nAnd I'ma have to keep it muh'fuckin' real with 'em\nI got a problem, with these niggas\nI got a problem, with these bitches\nTrigger finger, keep itchin'\nWell I'll pull it, I'll do it, yeah\n\nWell, if you know like I know, that pussy pop like pyro\nAnd she know I'm a pothead, that pussy like a pothole\nI\u2019m colder than a snotnose, man all these hoes is my hoes\nAnd if she bougie, fuck her once then leave her hanging, dry clothes\nI just built a cemetery, niggas dying to get in\nNiggas lying, they pretend, don\u2019t cross that line, it's paper thin\nHigh as a star, make a wish, I\u2019m a shark, I ate the fish\nI got no heart, I hate that bitch\nYou hate that bitch? Well I hate that bitch\nWill jump a nigga like a chessboard\nDo a drive by while you riding on your skateboard, uh\nThey ain't even know it\nHave Drake sing a song just to get her pussy wet\nThen I take her to the crib, man, fuck that bitch right on the step\nPut it in and take it back out, then I back out\nHair-Hair Weave Killer known to snatch the fucking track out\nPut me in the ga-game coach, I'm the antidote\nPull up, kick, throw and take the money, and the dope\nTrue, 2 Chainz, I'm on a plane, and a boat\nI am so cold, I need a cover, and a coat\nKick it at the mall, call it football\nIf you don't like what I'm doing, nigga, fuck y'all\n(Y'all ready? 1, 2, 3)\nRight now it's me time\n(A little time for myself y'all) Me time\n(Oh yeah) Right now it's me time\n(Don't want no one else now) Me time\nBitch please don't call my phone (don't call my phone)\nSaid I wanna be left alone (be left alone)\nPlease, please don't stop by my home (stop by my home)\nNo, no cause I feel it's just a matter of time\n'Til you people make me lose my mind\nI'm 'bout to leave this world behind, yeah, yeah\nRight now it's me time\n(You need to go kick rocks now) Me time"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsFork Lyrics\nMama, MAMA!\n(Wha, What!)\nYou get that money out my pants last night?\n(Boy! Naw I ain't get no money out yo pants! And quit yellin' at me!!)\nAin't nobody hollin' at you!\nI had a dream that rap wouldn't work\nI woke up on the block, had to hit it with the fork\nSkrrr, skrrr, skrrr, skrrr, skrrr: hit it with the fork\nSkrrr, skrrr, skrrr, skrrr, skrrr: hit it with the fork\nRap don't work, records ain't bein' sold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\n\nI got Medusa on my sneakers\nMy dick up like \"nice to meet ya\"\n100K for a feature, hundred K's at my leisure\nThen we aim at your people\nI be higher than a eagle\nWhen I'm sipping on that codeine\nFree my nigga Sigel\nRidin' on a jet, headin' to that Costa\nSoon as I land I be in that Testarossa\nIf I die tonight, you gon' see some flexin' ghostas\nI'm the man in my city, same thing in South Dakota\nMan I'm running up that check, show you how I do it\nI drink red bitches, I don't drink Red Bulls\nMan they tried to give me wings, but I already had some\nI'm all that and then some, my trap house is my income\nAnd it's booming\nYou might also like\nI had a dream, rap wouldn't work\nWoke up on the block, hit it with the fork\nSkrrr, skrrr, skrrr: hit it with the fork\nSkrrr, skrrr, skrrr: hit it with the fork\nRap don't work, records ain't bein' sold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\n\n2 Chainz!\nI'm ballin' like Mr. Clean\nI gotta keep my kitchen clean\nGod bless me like I'm finna sneeze\nDoctor weigh me on a triple beam\nD-boy in parenthesis\nAll gold in my amenities\n2 Chainz, two pinky rings\nMy trigger finger's like a lemon squeeze (Baow!)\nClimax! Make your main ho my side-chick\nI'm so high, your whore get hijacked\nAnd my vision is Pyrex\nI do it big like a 5X\nKilled they ass with the eyepatch\nI got bad bitches on my side\nI done fucked around and got sidetracked\nMy first night, I spent five stacks\nNext night I forgot to count\nI'm so hot; who gon' put the fire out?\nI'm the fireman, I put fire out\nGot a pole in my basement\nTipped your girl like Maliah now\nRidin' on these motherfucka's until they blow my tires out, uh\nMy wrist deserve a shout-out, I'm like \"What up, wrist?\"\nMy stove deserve a shout-out, I'm like \"What up, stove?\"\nAll this jewelry on then I'm out cold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold!\n\nI had a dream, rap wouldn't work\nWoke up on the block, hit it with the fork\nSkrrr, skrrr, skrrr: hit it with the fork\nSkrrr, skrrr, skrrr: hit it with the fork\nRap don't work, records ain't bein' sold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold\nSo much money on me, it won't even fold"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsDresser (Lil Boy) Lyrics\n\n.454, I pull up on niggas, I tell 'em lets get it\nNiggas they talkin' on Twitter, you niggas you know you gon get it\nBenjamin Franklin, niggas know that I keep it 100\nGot me a new clip for my .223 and that bitch hold a hundred\nI'm still in the hood, I got me a check and I don't want no Nike's\nBitches, they suckin', and fuckin', they do everything except bite it\nI can go slow like an old man, I can go fast like I got nitrous\nSpent 20 racks for my brother's appeal and I ain't talkin' no Vicodin\nOver 1 mil in this room, bitch, I kinda sound like a Pisces\nLil bitch you know I'm the bomb and 2 Chainz the light, no lightnin'\nWow, these bitches excited, me and Thugger, we 'bout to start up a riot\nI ain't got no pussy all week, I'm on that \"bitch, suck my dick\" diet\n\nMonica, come home to me, yea come home to me my dear\nMake a little money, leave a little on the dresser\nMake a little money, leave a little on the dresser\nTeresea, I'm tired of lookin' bae, I'm into you, your rear\nMake a little money, leave a little on the dresser\nMake a little money, leave a little on the dresser\n\nAin't nothin' special man, I sold it all yester'\nPull in Phipps Plaza in a motherfuckin' Tesla\nAin't no pressure when you got a little extra\nPut them beams on your face, have 'em lookin' like freckles\nDammit man, I do not know Tar but I'm  having Xan's\nMy bitch pussy wet like it's wetting rain\nThis bitch clap on me while I clap at mans, woah\nGot Balenciaga's I ain't even wore yet\nHalf a pound of gas I ain't smoke yet\nTraphouse filled up with Ziploc\nUse to get my living room suite from Big Lots\nIn a strip club with some flip-flops\nThought it's the time, baby it's not\nGot a lotta windows on my crib, nigga\nBout to put that motherfucker in a tint shop\nYou might also like\nMonica, come home to me, yea come home to me my dear\nMake a little money, leave a little on the dresser\nMake a little money, leave a little on the dresser\nTeresea, I'm tired of lookin' bae, I'm into you, your rear\nMake a little money, leave a little on the dresser\nMake a little money, leave a little on the dresser\n\n\nWho killed little boy, who killed little boy?\nRat infested hallways, no escape, no escape\nFrom misery, no way out from that hell\n\nI'm bout to give these niggas what they ask for\nI used to have to argue with my land lord\nYea, my nickname is Tity Boi\nBitch gotta have at least a handful\nAll my cribs came with a damn pool\nUsed to stash work in my camel\nYoung 6'5\" with the handle\nIf you don't watch Atlanta then you need to turn the channel\nSee I pull up in this bitch in a Phantom\nFront grill looking like it's dancin' (it is)\nPut some stacks on your head little boy (lil boy)\nYeah they 'bout to call you the grandson (lil boy)\nPussy nigga gonna need a tampon (lil boy)\nPut rifle bullets in a handgun (lil boy)\nKeep a bankroll on me, nigga\nBy the time I eat some bacon I got bands on\nAll my cars I done put rims on 'em\nI done touched down, no end zone\nAll that bitch do is run her mouth, nigga\nOn the right but that bitch got a Sprint phone (hello?)\nMan she got about 100 acres\nEnough yard for me to put a couple Benz's on\nAnd I just pop me a perc\nI might fuck that bitch with my Timbs on\n(Truuuuuu)"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsBlue Cheese Lyrics\n50,000 on me, I'm a walkin' lick\nShe fuck with the squad, she gon' grip the stick\nCame from the rags to riches, now we got bags and bitches\nCame from the rags to riches, now we got bags and bitches\nBlue cheese in my Off Whites\nI've been drinkin' codeine all night\nGot your bitch out her DM, put her on a flight\nI don't understand nothin' but them dollar signs\n\nMy side chick got pregnant by her main dude and I'm offended\nI called, she ain't pick up, I text her back, bitch you stingy\nI'm in all black like a ninja, chain got influenza\nWalk in the traphouse, use my Cartiers for credentials (God damn!)\nI'm going wildebeest, all on my enemies\nNegative energy, I could do anything, I got the guillotine\nOff with they head\nKnown to pull off and get head\nDrippin so much sauce on your bitch look like she wettin' the bed\nI could do more than just say it, strip club veteran head uh uh!\nI am still gettin' this bread, bought her a Birkin bag uh uh!\nEveryone look at the tag, I do the digital dash uh uh!\nI can do more than just brag, I can back it up UH UH!\n\n50,000 on me, I'm a walkin' lick\nShe fuck with the squad, she gon' grip the stick\nCame from the rags to riches, now we got bags and bitches\nCame from the rags to riches, now we got bags and bitches\nBlue cheese in my Off Whites\nI've been drinkin' codeine all night\nGot your bitch out her DM, put her on a flight\nI don't understand nothin' but them dollar signs\nYou might also like\nBlue cheese, no ranch, all hunnids\n10 racks on me that's mall money\nI just bought a Lamb Ima crawl on it\nGet on top, she act a dog with it\nI'm on this drink need to slow down\nRacks in back it won't slow down\nYou had a sack but it's gone now\nSafari diamond, money long now\nBetter wake up, smell the coffee\nBlack man with a lot of money, got the white man wanna off me\nYou was my mans but you lost me\nPoppin xans, I'm exhausted\nCookie smellin like a mosh pit\nPop a perk, kinda nauseous\n50 pointer, shit colossus\nHey, With this money I could stay up and survive\nWe go live, smoke this dope and ride\nWe too fly, bad bitches in the archive\nOh so high, money make me so high\n\n50,000 on me, I'm a walkin' lick\nShe fuck with the squad, she gon' grip the stick\nCame from the rags to riches, now we got bags and bitches\nCame from the rags to riches, now we got bags and bitches\nBlue cheese in my Off Whites\nI've been drinkin' codeine all night\nGot your bitch out her DM, put her on a flight\nI don't understand nothin' but them dollar signs\nI'm havin blue cheese\nAnd I'ma get it by any means\nFlexing on niggas like Hercules\nFucking on bitches with double D's\nI met the plug, got 100 keys\nGive me that block and I gotta seize\nThese niggas sick of me, wanna get rid of me\nI'm at the top and they under me\nI hit the lot and don't ask for the tag\nRacks in my pockets, they lookin like kneepads\nFlex in my Off Whites with Benjamin Franklin\nPut the rest of that blue cheese in the bag\nMy life I'm livin it fast\nOne thing I cannot do is go out sad\nThey know me but don't know my past\nAnd if you know me you know I'm about my cash\nThe Nawfside, call it Baghdad, make a nigga 40 yard dash\nThe Nawfside, where the bags at, I was breakin my wrist in the glass (Whippin it!)\nSmoking on Barry Bonds in the Huracan, spinning work like I'm Taz\nMigos and Chainz in the city, go to your girl car\nHad to bring out that bag\n\n50,000 on me, I'm a walkin' lick\nShe fuck with the squad, she gon' grip the stick\nCame from the rags to riches, now we got bags and bitches\nCame from the rags to riches, now we got bags and bitches\nBlue cheese in my Off Whites\nI've been drinkin' codeine all night\nGot your bitch out her DM, put her on a flight\nI don't understand nothin' but them dollar signs\nBlue cheese in my Off Whites\nI've been drinkin' codeine all night\nGot your bitch out her DM, put her on a flight\nI don't understand nothin' but them dollar signs\nWhen you wake up in the morning\nWhen you wake up in the morning\nBlue cheese in my Off Whites\nBlue cheese in my Off Whites\n(Uhh, uhh)\n\nBoy, my uncle 12 shawty\nI had to take my uncle to school this morning shawty\nAnd he got suspended\n'Cause he smelled like weed when he got there"}
{"text":"73 ContributorsWhere U Been Lyrics\nI keep my hoes in check, you buy Nike for yours\nSay they want that loud, I'mma bring that noise\nCheck my watch on a flight, yeah, I call that airtime\nMurk 'em in the middle of the street, that gon' be his deadline\nYeah, you gon' respect mine, got a body on my Tec-9\nSay you nobody 'till somebody gon' body you, flatline\nPocket full of dead guys and you know I'm anti\nAnti-social, anti-lame, but ain't I cool nigga, ain't I?\nYou looking at a star that's spaced out\nTrying to take my style then take off\nI go to work with no days off, everything all paid off\nShawty pussy hair shaved off and she did it just for me, nigga\nWould skip you like a spacebar, but I much rather delete niggas\n\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nI been getting to the money, where the fuck you been?\n\nGucci hat (Gucci hat), Gucci belt\nIf you wrote a autobiography, you'd have to sue yourself\nYo' lying ass, codeine in my wine glass\nI know you had a wild past, I ain't fucked you in a while with yo' wild ass\nI get high and I fly past, I don't know nothing 'bout iChat\nI'm working this iPhone, they need an app called iTrap\nI trap, shining like a night lamp\nI just hit my girlfriend and asked her where her wife at\nWhite cup, white hat, laying on a white couch\nGot that presidential in a residential white house\nNigga saying \"who?\" (who) like a white owl\nYou can see me shinin' (shinin') with the light out, come on\nYou might also like\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nI been getting to the money, where the fuck you been?\n{Verse 3: Cap-1}\nTurn five to a ten to a twenty to fifty\nTo hundred, my niggas get money, I want it\nRide through the city, my niggas got choppers\nMy bitch, she's so pretty, that's my Pocahontas\nEverything on me, I shine like a trophy\nRun up a check while they watch out for police\nVersace my pinky, a brick on my Rollie\nThat Cali Ferrari, I'm feeling like Kobe\nT-R-U, that's to the death of me, nigga\nKillers on the right and left of me, nigga\nMy destiny, nigga, to get all this money\nI can't, I can't share that whole recipe with ya\nMy nigga told me \"Get 'em, get it?\" I got 'em\nStand on that couch and just drink out the bottle\nThat .40 got hollows, that bitch, she gon' swallow\nGet to that money, I'm King of Chicago\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nBought that Benz just to fuck your friends\nGiuseppe's 900 with the gold bars\nEverything about me raw like a dope charge\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nI been getting money, where the fuck you been?\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nBought a new crib just to fuck you in\nI been getting to the money, where the fuck you been?"}
{"text":"92 ContributorsBigger Than You Lyrics\n2 Chainz (Murda on the beat so it's not nice)\nYeah, VIP my squad (Yeah), drop off all the gang (Yeah)\nVIP the lane (Skrrt), VIP the chain (Squad)\nVIP my squad (Yeah, squad), drop off all the gang (Yeah)\nVIP the lane (Skrrt, yeah), VIP the chain\n\nUh, yeah, baller alert\nLil biddy bitch I don't call her alert (Brrrrp)\nUh, yeah, follow alert\nGo get the fire when I'm callin' 'em merked\nUh, yeah, profit come first\nI whip the baby, the baby gon' burp (Whip it)\nUh, yeah, I bought a 'Claren (Woo)\nI bought a 'Claren, didn't wanna buy verts, uh\nThis shit bigger than you (hey), I'm takin' on a new path (Uh)\nMaking them bricks take a bath (Woo)\nLil biddy bitch, do the math (Yeah)\nLil nigga, who are you? (Who you, yeah)\nMust be bulletproof (Brrrp)\nThis shit bigger than you (It big)\nThis shit bigger than you\n\nChain so big, should have came with a kick stand\nFuck with me, I got a retainer on a hit man (bop)\nBarely came up out the mud like quicksand (barely)\nI show you how to get millions, nigga, that's a mil plan, now\nUh, yeah, ring the alarm, Cartier bracelets on all of my arms\nUh, yeah, halo my son, in the wheelchair, and I still perform (uh)\nI don't make excuses, you know that I'm hungry, I still got the juice (uh)\nYou set it off like Cleo, I set it off like Boosie\nYou might also like\nUh, yeah, baller alert\nLil biddy bitch I don't call her alert (brrrrp)\nUh, yeah, follow alert\nGo get the fire when I'm callin' 'em merked\nUh, yeah, profit come first\nI whip the baby, the baby gon' burp (whip it)\nUh, yeah, I bought a 'Claren (woo)\nI bought a 'Claren, didn't wanna buy verts, uh\nThis shit bigger than you (hey)\nI'm takin' on a new path (uh)\nMaking the bricks take a bath (woo)\nLil biddy bitch, do the math (yeah)\nLil nigga, who are you? (who you?)\nMust be bulletproof (brrrp) (bye)\nThis shit bigger than you (it big)\nThis shit bigger than you\n\nYoung champagne checkin' in, man, Tity Boi shit ringin' off\n'Member I was on pre-paid, I would act like my shit was ringin' off\n'Member shorty told me she thought the raps good but the singing's off\nWatch on Young Dro now, man, boi-oing shit blingin' off\nWhere the racks at? (Racks)\nAll I know is they keep comin' to me like a flashback, nigga, what? (What?)\nHalf a million out in Vegas, it ain't no blackjack, nigga, naw (Naw)\nQuavo Sinatra, but we could never be the Rat Pack, nigga, naw\nUh, yeah, baller alert\nLil biddy bitch I don't call her alert (Brrrrp)\nUh, yeah, follow alert\nGo get the fire when I'm callin' 'em merked\nUh, yeah, profit come first\nI whip the baby, the baby gon' birth (Whip it)\nUh, yeah, I bought a 'Claren (Woo)\nI bought a 'Claren, didn't wanna buy verts, uh\nThis shit bigger than you (Hey)\nI'm takin' on a new path (Uh)\nMaking the bricks take a bath (Woo)\nLil biddy bitch, do the math (Yeah, tell 'em)\nLil nigga, who are you? (Who you?)\nMust be bulletproof (Brrrp, bye)\nThis shit bigger than you (It big)\nThis shit bigger than you\n\nTouchscreen on my cars, vintage one to two\nI just bought a watch that's plain like a Dickie suit (Plain)\nI sip some red wine, and chased it with the '42\nThey asked me what I call millions, comin' soon\nYeah (Yeah), I just cashed out (Uh)\nAin't got time for a beef, I'm a cash cow (Tell 'em)\nWhen I was in juvie, I made 'em back out (Back that ass up)\nIt was 400 degrees, you would have passed out (Ooh)\nUh, yeah, baller alert\nLil biddy bitch I don't call her alert (Brrrrp)\nUh, yeah, follow alert\nGo get the fire when I'm callin' 'em merked (Yeaaaah)\nUh, yeah, profit come first\nI whip the baby, the baby gon' birth (Whip it)\nUh, yeah, I bought a 'Claren (Woo)\nI bought a 'Claren, didn't wanna buy verts, uh\nThis shit bigger than you (Hey)\nI'm takin' on a new path (Uh)\nMaking the bricks take a bath (Woo)\nLil biddy bitch, do the math (Yeah)\nLil nigga, who are you? (Who you?)\nMust be bulletproof (Brrrp) (Bye)\nThis shit bigger than you (It big)\nThis shit bigger than you\n\nVIP my squad (Yeah), drop off all the gang (Yeah)\nVIP the lane (Skrrt), VIP the chain (Squad)\nVIP my squad (Yeah, yeah), drop off all the gang (Yeah)\nVIP the lane (Skrrt), VIP the chain"}
{"text":"3 Chainz, oww\n\nCaught up in my bullshit, put your head on backwards\nAnd skate off after, engage in laughter 'bout what just happened\nFingers in napkins get sent to mammies, is that too graphic?\nCatch you in traffic, you sitting Daffy like stealing candy\nMy ceiling\u2019s absent, my wheels are massive, my friends assassins\nAll of us bastards, our mothers queens and our women dancers\nMy rivers rapid, my fins are splashin\u2019, my gills are flappin\u2019\nI bit some matches then sipped some gas and went kiss a dragon\n\nI\u2019m really rappin\u2019, no finger snappin\u2019, I\u2019m pistol packin\u2019\nY\u2019all niggas slippin\u2019, my swag is drippin\u2019, so here\u2019s a napkin\nWhat\u2019s really happnin\u2019? Verbal attackin\u2019, I\u2019m showing passion\nKnow what I mean, see I\u2019m the king like I\u2019m from Akron\nI\u2019m going overboard, somebody call the captain\nAnd when it come to getting checks, I always want the fat ones\nI\u2019m so high I can sing to a chandelier\nMy flow a glass of Ace of Spade and yours a can of beer\n\nToo many bitches, too many blunts, too many buttons\nNot enough bullets, them niggas buggin\u2019, the SWAT is comin\u2019\nAK on shoulder, no shoulder shruggin', aim at ya nugget\nMy weed sticky like acupuncture and magnets, honey\nKnock on the side door three times and have your money\nOr get to steppin' like Kappas stompin', I'll slap a junkie\nI\u2019m having lunch with Italian Sonny, don\u2019t ask the subject\nLord, why you took Rabbit from me? He say, \"Don't ask me nothing\"\nToo many bodies, too many bangers, too many bundles\nNot enough bullets, these niggas buggin', I heard they stung you\nIt\u2019s gon' be trouble, we come through and catch you while you cuddle\nThem shotgun barrels like tunnels nigga, don't even mumble\nYou might also like\nI\u2019m back to ballin', I'm in the back full of magnums only\nPull on the scene and I fuck your queen playing Pastor Troy\nOur weed ready, turkey spaghetti and caster oil\nThat's codeine, turn your guillotine to a fashion show\nIn four minutes I'll turn this into forensics\nIn a foreign car with a foreign broad that\u2019s long winded\nPaper long and you taking long, you just don't get it\nHung the phone up on Satan, told me he want a song with me\nHotter than Mississippi in summer of 1950s\nIn a van full of some niggas and white bitches\nGet pulled over for swervin\u2019 like, \"Hi, officer\"\nWhen he ask me why I was swerving, \"I\u2019m high, officer\"\n\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\n\nGot a mansion, a condo, a cabin, I sleep in my Phantom\nSo high dancing with the stars to the Star Spangled Banner\nI change your channel, I change your pattern, I ring your Saturn\nI bang your madam, she get on top and I shake the ladder\nI make her straddle then gather and calculate the data\nI listen up for the snakes or the baby rattle\nI play the shadows, don\u2019t play no games, I straight get at \u2018em\nI\u2019m on the chronic all day like it\u2019s my favorite album\nA plate of salmon, the Cayman Islands, a stripper dancer\nIf I don\u2019t get the car first, I\u2019ll have a temper tantrum\nI\u2019m innovative, I demonstrated, this nickle plated\nI don\u2019t care if you owe me a nick, nigga you need to pay me\nI kiss ya lady, eat her pussy then kiss the baby\nGet situated, get keys off table then leave her 80\nI really made it, get it maid, Schwarzenegger\nWon\u2019t wrestle niggas, I spatula all you action figures\n\nI\u2019m so high the blunt feel like a dumbbell\nThese niggas tiny like a spider on a Spud Webb\nI got some upscale cocaine on my thumbnail\nI feed it to my fun girls, they say fuck yeah\n\nI\u2019m doing this shit like whatever\nWhen I go I\u2019mma leave for the better\nI told her you dig like a shovel\nI want a Ferrari in yellow\nJust so I can match all my yellow bitches\nI been a playa since elementary\nI got more bars than a penitentiary\nI got a clip that hang several inches\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself\nI can make it bounce by myself"}
{"text":"I'm gonna cause pandemonium\nPick up the paper, custodian\nThis how Prince met Apollonia\nTryna fill up California kings\nHydrocodeine with the Visine\nMaster bedroom on the right wing\nThis a Philippe not a Breitling\nFuck her to sleep, she had pipe dreams\nYeah, this is the king of the trap\nYeah, I pull it straight out the hat\nYeah, everyone better take cover\nYeah, got rappers under attack\nUh, my daughters inherit arrogance\nAnd they intelligent, that's a fact\nBought me a car February 1st\nYou already know it was black on black\nI cover my scars with the tats on tats\nYou better back back, rat-tat-tat-tat-tat\nI pass you a joint, better pass it back\nI went to Montgomery, with packs on back\nSent her to the store for some plastic bags\nSent her to the store for some rubber bands\nI started pitching so easy\nI throw the work to you underhand\nUnderworld, underground, underline\nI'm underdog and you under mine\nThis here ain't no once upon a time\nThis really happened for real\nCan't even trust our own government\nAw man fuck all that humble shit\nMumbling\nMan fuck all that mumble shit\nYou might also like\nRealize\nA lot of these niggas tell real lies\nThey not about shit in real life\nAnd thats something that I had to realize (Realize)\nI had to reco-reco-recogni-i-ize it\n(reco-reco-recogni-i-ize)\nThey see me winning and now they dont liiike it\n(Yeah, I know they dont like it)\nAct like they love me, but hate me in pri-i-vate\nI had to reco-reco-recogni-i-ize it\n\nYo\nI went and copped a ring\nI call this rock, Dwayne\nJohnson, stop the playin'\nMan, I cannot complain\nI left my shades in Atlanta so I told my pilot to stop the plane\nHe bust a U in the air\nShe say she doin' it, where?\nShe wanna sit in my chair\nBut she could never be my heir\nChecks, clear, Bible, swear\nThey ain't buggin', I go off\nAsahd Khaled with the cloth\nDwayne Carter of the north\nDwayne Wade in the fourth\nNew dream house for mommy\nKeep 'Caiah in Armani\nPutting my nieces through college\nThis for Kellise and Imani\nLook at these niggas I put on\nAll of these niggas I'm good on\nMy own two, what I stood on\nThat's why their necks what I'm keepin' my foot on\nI've been winning 8 years consistently, at least respect it\nPapoose wrote a Ether record\nBut I broke Aretha record\nSee this is chess, not checkers\nYou can not check the checkers\nDid Nas clear that \"Ether\" record?\nNah, but I broke Aretha record\nRealize\nA lot of these niggas tell real lies\nThey not about shit in real life\nAnd thats something that I had to realize (Realize)\nI had to reco-reco-recogni-i-ize it\n(reco-reco-recogn-i-ize)\nThey see me winning and now they dont liiike it\n(Yeah, I know they dont like it)\nAct like they love me, but hate me in pri-i-vate\nI had to reco-reco-recogn-i-ize it"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsPROUD Lyrics\nYeah, do it for the hood, nigga, rep\nYeah, Soufside with an F 'cause I'm fresh\nDo it for the hood, nigga, rep\nSoufside with an F 'cause I'm fresh\nTryna make my momma proud, uh\nI ain't tryna let my momma down (yah)\nI'm just tryna make my momma proud, uh\nI ain't fuckin' 'round with you (uh, uh, uh)\n\nT.R.U. University, I pull it up and murk a beat\nMomma house was filled up with bags of Hercules (strong)\nSoon as I finished pissin', I put the seat down\nOr my momma'd be cussin' my damn ass out\nOnly child, no siblings, no besties\nI couldn't do nothin' right like a lefty (woo)\nBought my momma's first house with the juug money (alright)\nBought my momma's second house with the club money (show)\nMe and momma used to trap out the same house (same house)\nUsed to eat and go to sleep on the same couch (same couch)\nMe and momma got busted at the same time (same time)\nWent to court and told judge the damn same lies (same lies)\nI can tell momma proud of her only son\n2 Chainz, I have always worn more than one\nYeah I'm real, I'm ill, you know, you gotta feel\nYou poppin' pills, I'm rarer than two dollar bills\nYou might also like\nYeah, I'm just tryna make my momma proud (make my momma proud, yeah)\nI ain't tryna let my momma down (down, down, down)\nYeah, I'm just tryna make my momma proud, yeah (proud, yeah)\nI ain't tryna let my momma down (down, down, down)\nYeah, momma ain't raise no ho, one more time\nYeah, my momma ain't raise no ho\nYeah, yeah, yeah, momma ain't raise no ho\nYeah, yeah, momma ain't raise no ho\n\n4Hunnid! My momma ain't raise no ho (no ho)\n'Cause my momma ain't no ho (no ho)\nMy momma ain't raise no ho (no ho)\nDrop a pin and in ten we at your door, nigga\nHo bitches gettin' fucked on the floor\nThey cold-hearted so you gotta do 'em cold\nThese hoes and my momma can't get along (why?)\n'Cause my momma ain't no ho\nI was runnin' up a check with the homies on the disk\nI was fuckin' up the pork, I ain't ever do the feds\nGot some YGs from the gang, they'll do you for a check\nAnd you know I'm gang gang 'cause that's the only thing I rep\nAyy, momma\nWhen I leave the house it's for them dollars\nYou are the reason I bought that choppa\n'Cause I know you wanna see me come home proper\nSoon as I get right I said I gotcha then I gotcha\n4Hunnid!\nYeah, I'm just tryna make my momma proud (make my momma proud, yeah)\nI ain't tryna let my momma down (down, down, down)\nYeah, I'm just tryna make my momma proud, yeah (proud, yeah)\nI ain't tryna let my momma down (down, down, down)\nYeah, momma ain't raise no ho, one more time\nYeah, my momma ain't raise no ho\nYeah, yeah, yeah, momma ain't raise no ho\nYeah, yeah, momma ain't raise no ho\n\nMomma taught me how to get that bankroll (momma)\nYeah, vault up in my loft in case the bank closed (vault, yeah)\nMomma ain't have it all, we wore the same clothes (have it all)\nI kicked the door, I kicked the door, I risked it all for dough (kicked the door)\nI found that .44, it turned me to an animal (4, 4)\nGot that wide load, niggas wasn't even compatible (wide load)\nChoppa firin', it soundin' just like a rattler\n.223 caliber, you ain't in my caliber (oh, oh)\nMomma told me pray 'cause they'll keep givin' me these bucks (bucks)\nSit on that G6, I'm flyin' high, Aladdin on the rug (momma)\nI put Goyard on my momma (Goyard)\nEvery nigga, not cha partner, son, when you come up (come up)\nAll them bitches in your face, son, they are piranhas\nStay up out the way, but beat him if he run up (run up)\nMike Jack in his prime with Madonna\nI'm just tryna bring her to my momma (momma)\nYeah, I'm just tryna make my momma proud (make my momma proud, yeah)\nI ain't tryna let my momma down (down, down, down)\nYeah, I'm just tryna make my momma proud, yeah (proud, yeah)\nI ain't tryna let my momma down (down, down, down)\nYeah, momma ain't raise no ho, one more time\nYeah, my momma ain't raise no ho\nYeah, yeah, yeah, momma ain't raise no ho\nYeah, yeah, momma ain't raise no ho\n\nDo it for the hood, nigga, rep\nSouthside with an F 'cause I'm fresh\nDo it for the hood, nigga, rep\nSouthside with an F 'cause I'm fresh"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsExtremely Blessed Lyrics\nBaby let's roll away\nGet lost in the day\nI love that you love what you do\nAnd just like any girl, baby I'll love you the same\nI know you gotta go, the DJ is calling you to the stage\nGo ahead baby, do your thing\n\nHoney complexion\nBody of a goddess\n22s on the Lexus, named Alexis\nBy the way of Texas\nBig face Rolexes\nWhile she's undressing, man I'm stressing\nShe's extremely blessed\nExtremely blessed\n\nGive us this day our daily bread\nIf you a chicken head, go somewhere and lay some eggs\nI make you, make your bed, take that head\nI got a move that will break your leg, know what I\u2019m talking about\nKnown to kill pussy, nigga chalk it out\nOur first date was the Waffle House\nDifferent day, different escapades\nIf they don\u2019t like it they opinions like Escalade's\nEverybody got one\nYou might also like\nHoney complexion\nBody of a goddess\n22s on the Lexus, named Alexis\nBy the way of Texas\nBig face Rolexes\nWhile she's undressing, man I'm stressing\nShe's extremely blessed\nExtremely blessed\n\nYeahh\nShe slow grinded the whole time\nI told her have a seat, you sitting on a gold mine\nBig ass, long hair, thick thighs\nEat Lobster tail like French Fries\nI\u2019m the type to buy you a car for the fifth time\nThis skinny nigga doing big time\nOh wait, dinner dates I demonstrate how to penetrate\nIf you ain\u2019t wit it, then its elimi-date\n\nHoney complexion\nBody of a goddess\n22s on the Lexus, named Alexis\nBy the way of Texas\nBig face Rolexes\nWhile she's undressing, man I'm stressing\nShe's extremely blessed\nExtremely blessed\nBaby let\u2019s roll away\nGet lost in this day\nSay it\u2019s okay\nCome to me\nExtremely blessed"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsGOOD Morning Lyrics\nIm getting this nigga in the morning\nHe gon' think he been chiefing, just too long when\nHe see me in the evening, wanna catch all these feelings\nWell let me be the first to get mine, Ohh!\nOkay I\u2019m chillin\u2019 in my camo, flippin\u2019 through the channel\nOn my GOOD Music shit, my logo\u2019s a Lambo\nFour doors of ammo, this ammunition I\u2019m pitching\nTo make your body switch another position\nAnd listen, my weed loud, fuck her and speed off\nTell 'em I bare arms, I'm cuttin my sleeves off\nLettin' my tats show and I sag my pants\nIm letting my ass show, I'm hot as tabasco\nI study, Castro, yeah, my plug from Cuba\nInside of the car is like a damn computer\nInside of the crib is like a damn museum\nYou ain't seen these before, you better get 'em on film\nTryin to take these fat pockets, man your chances are slim\nDisrespect, you stomp em out, man give em a Tim\nYou ain't did what I did, see I know I'mma win\nAnd they dont have slow-motion so I did it again\nWoah!\n\nIm getting this nigga in the morning\nHe gon' think he been chiefing, just too long when\nHe see me in the evening, wanna catch all these feelings\nWell let me be the first to get mine, Ohh!\nYou might also like\nOkay I'm sittin' on the plane, flying over graves\nI am so high, nigga I can talk to rain\nMy outfit's insane, ain't that evident?\nMy chain had another chain like it was pregnant\nMy favorite dish is turkey lasagna\nEven my pajamas designer\nShe got a fat ass I make her rewind\nBack seat so big I press recline\nGot a dirty sprite in my cup holder\nRappers like road kill, they get run over\nThey get done over, it's just one solider\nThis flow will make you fall like its October\nMe and your girl, nigga opposite of sober\nCeline Paris chain charm look like a cobra\nYoung Casanova, Baby Romeo\nI got my girl geeked, she look like she from Tokyo\nIm getting this nigga in the morning\nHe gon' think he been chiefing, just too long when\nHe see me in the evening, wanna catch all these feelings\nWell let me be the first to get mine, Ohh!"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsRule the World Lyrics\nYeah\nUh-huh\n(Hitmaka)\n2 Chainz\n\nTop down on the Dawn like I'm used to it (Yeah)\nPrayin' he make it home like I'm used to it\nPrayin' he make it home, I got used to it (Used to it)\nPrayin' he make it home like I'm used to it\nTop down on the Dawn like I'm used to it\nPrayin' he make it home, I got used to it\nPrayin' he make it home like he used to\nI realized we could rule the world\nI realized we could rule the world (Oh yeah, oh yeah)\n\nYeah\nFell in love with a real one, this a dedication (Wow)\nHad 'em patiently waitin' for a revelation\nEven when I ain't around, ain't no separation\nYour skin's smooth, your eyes brown and you're far from basic\nThen we go to different places with no suitcases (Wow)\nBut when we come back, we got suitcases (Yeah)\nRight now I use love for a medication (Love)\nBack in the day I'd shoot Cupid with no hesitation (Bow, bow)\nI got more than 40 acres for my reparations\nPussy on my navigation, that's my destination (Tell 'em)\nPlease don't never tell on me, baby (Never tell)\nThat mean don't call 12 on me, baby (Don't call 12)\nAs long as the meal prepared for me, baby (It's prepared)\nThe mills I prepare, I share with you, baby (Share)\nOf course they gon' like this shit, look at it (Look)\nEverybody ain't happy, then look at me\nYou might also like\nTop down on the Dawn like I'm used to it (Used to it)\nPrayin' he make it home like I'm used to it\nPrayin' he make it home, I got used to it\nPrayin' he make it home like I'm used to it (Yeah)\nTop down on the Dawn like I'm used to it\nPrayin' he make it home, I got used to it (Wow)\nPrayin' he make it home like he used to (Wow, tell 'em, baby)\nI realized we could rule the world\nI realized we could rule the world (Oh yeah, oh yeah)\n\nWhy don't we ride four deep\nRode so far, we on E\nShe on E, she on me (Yeah, yeah)\nLet's try that way... okay\nShawty came in, walkin' like a model\nShaped like a bottle\nShe know if she mess with me, it's gon' be trouble\nI'ma bust that bubble\nI'ma always love her, mess up all the covers (Yeah, yeah)\nWatch me break it down like a foldin' chair\nSee me in the Chain Reactions, I got 40 pair\nSorry I ain't answer the phone, I was slappin' ass\nLast night ain't answer, I was pullin' hair\nY'all know me, so lowkey\nAll this ice on, I got cold feet\nMy shawty bad, she a trophy\nShe like to lay on me and call me cozy (Yeah)\nTop down on the Dawn like I'm used to it\nPrayin' he make it home like I'm used to it\nPrayin' he make it home, I got used to it (Pray for me)\nPrayin' he make it home like I'm used to it (Alright)\nTop down on the Dawn like I'm used to it (Skrrt)\nPrayin' he make it home, I got used to it (Skrrt)\nPrayin' he make it home like he used to\nI realized we could rule the world\nI realized we could rule the world (Oh yeah, oh yeah)\n\nSkrrt (Yeah)\nYeah\nI'ma trap it out one way or another (Yee)\nYeah (Oh)\nOne thing about love, they say it's blind\nNo matter where you're from\nYou gon' bump into it one day\nTru"}
{"text":"91 ContributorsMomma I Hit a Lick Lyrics\nI want it, I want it, I want it-it-it-it\n\nChilly, chilly, chilly, chilly (Yeah, what?)\nWake up, Count Chilly (What?)\nI'm up, Count Chilly (Up)\nTell my mama I hit a lick\nTell my mama I hit a lick (Lick)\nHuh, mama, I hit a lick\nMama, I hit a lick\n\nI\u2019m comin', baby, send the address\nProgress, never digress (Never)\nYour last one didn't pass the fly test (Test)\nI eat rappers, no digest\nFuck a piece, I want the whole pie graph (Yeah)\nMoney taller than a giraffe (Tall)\nFeng shui by the mic stand\nHave you ever had two one-night stands? (Have you ever?)\nI\u2019m a emperor, very sinister\nSomewhere smokin' on indica (Mmm)\nFox on me like Vivica (Mmm)\nI pray for before meals, spiritual\nWack ace, bet a big face (Yeah)\nThey want my spot, they wanna switch place (Yeah)\nThey want the gas, wanna sip Ace (Yeah)\nBaow, baow, straight to the face (Bow)\nI'm takin' my lawyer the whole briefcase (Whole)\nMakin' a play in the police face\nThey was like, \"Man, he fresh\"\nI was like, \"Go, DJ\" (Go)\nWhen they played your new shit\nI was like, \"No, DJ\" (No)\nYou can go on and skip that\nI buy a house and flip that\nYou might also like\nChilly, chilly (Chilly), chilly (Chilly), chilly (Count it)\nWake up, Count Chilly\nI'm up, Count Chilly\nTell my mama I hit a lick (Hit it)\nTell my mama I hit a lick\nHuh, mama, I hit a lick (Huh)\nMama, I hit a lick\n\n(Ahh)\nFall off in this bitch, I ball off in this bitch\nMy commas hit the floor, you crawl off in this bitch\nI threw a hundred more, you stall off in this bitch\nAnd then I v\u00e1monos, applaud me in this bitch\nC-notes, B-notes, P-notes all up in this bitch\nMan, y'all not in this bitch, y'all are not familiar\nY\u2019all are immigrants, the law not in this bitch, I\nFuck the opp, no competitor\nGot into it with my bitch last night\nShe was right, but I had to get at her\nTwo popped bands and they dance on my waist\nHit the face, that\u2019s the editor\nI don't take pics on a jet, lil nigga\nThis shit regular, G5s all in my backyard\nSit you roody-poos in the nosebleed\nNow my pockets holding big protein\nBig, big protein (Protein)\nI leveled up past Fab Five\nYour favorite rapper Desperate Housewives\nPlayin\u2019 with me get you chastised\nMilk 'em all 'til I'm satisfied\nThey didn\u2019t fall for it, strategize\nSwitch the flow 'cause they know niggas like identity theft\nOh, you got like me? (Say less)\nOh, you pop like me? (Say less)\nMask keep a nigga (In check)\nHuh, swag keep a nigga (With checks)\nHuh, tags on my wall (Success)\nHuh, played the underdog, now flex (Now flex)\nChilly (Chilly), chilly (Chilly), chilly (Chilly), chilly (Chilly)\nWake up, Count Chilly\nI'm up, Count Chilly\nTell my mama I hit a lick (Lick)\nTell my mama I hit a lick\nMama, I hit a lick\nMama, I hit a lick\n\nMama, I hit a lick\nMama, I hit a lick"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsEl Chapo Jr. Lyrics\n\nI'm the king of the trap, El Chapo Jr\nI'm the king of the trap, El Chapo Jr\nEl Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr\nEl Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr\nI'm the king of the trap, El Chapo Jr\nAnywhere on the map, I bring it to you\nEl Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr\nEl Chapo Jr, I'ma bring it to ya\n\nI wear Versace like it's Nike, you don't like it do you\nI bet you feel this bankroll if I bump into you, oh yeah\nChopper bullets flying errywhere, pop pop pop\nGot them chopper bullets flying errywhere, uh\n.223 chopper clip as long as Stacey Augmon\nIn the restaurant I order 2 fried lobsters\nNapkin on my Balmains, smokin' with lil mama\nLike fuck your baby daddy, his daddy should've worn a condom\nAll these grams on me, all these bands on me\nMake her want to dance on me and put her hands on me\nSprinter van on me, I got them xans on me\nDriveway so damn long by the time I leave I'm damn asleep\nYou might also like\nI'm the king of the trap, El Chapo Jr\nI'm the king of the trap, El Chapo Jr\nEl Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr\nEl Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr\nI'm the king of the trap, El Chapo Jr\nAnywhere on the map, I bring it to you\nEl Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr\nEl Chapo Jr, I'ma bring it to ya\n\nI done put so many on I can't fall off\nTrying to see how much the West End Mall costs, oh yeah\nI might buy a Maybach and paint it all gold\nBuy a crib fill the rooms up with all stoves\nWish I could tell you what she doing to me\nPocket full of money that's bluer than the sea\nI feel like I just paid off the plug\nDrop the top off the whip, hair-line receding\nHigh last night so I woke up this evening\nCan't pimp me so don't you tip me\nRims on the car make it six feet\nSo I can park the car wherever the blimps be\nI want a bird for my birthday, I drink syrup with no pancakes\nYeah, bitches round my pool, I make them hoe look like my landscape\nYeah, El Chapo J R R, multicolor A.R. rules\nLooking like I play ball, tell 'em keep they day jobs\nI'm the king of the trap, El Chapo Jr\nI'm the king of the trap, El Chapo Jr\nEl Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr\nI'm the king of the trap, El Chapo Jr\nAnywhere on the map, I bring it to you\nEl Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr, El Chapo Jr, I'ma bring it to ya"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsU Da Realest Lyrics\nI'm like a quarterback, watch me hand it off\nDrop the work in the pot, watch it cannonball\nI done seen 'em ball, I done seen 'em fall\nRest in peace to my nigga, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\n\nYou the realest, ain't no gimmicks, I got illness\nIf this rap game is my building, I got tenants, I got tenants\nI got \"gettin' it\" in my spirit, I'm winning to the end\nAnd I just made me some millions and this only the beginning\nRest in peace to all my niggas, they died while they was servin'\nRest in peace to all the soldiers that died in the service\nI dive in her cervix, chickens, no Church's\nNever seen a man cry 'til you seen a man die: closed curtain\nClosed casket, blasted, breathe again, Braxton\nHeart filled with passion, neck filled with mansions\nNonchalant and sarcastic, my bank roll gigantic\nSchool of hard knocks, I am the man on this campus\n\nI'm like a quarterback, watch me hand it off\nDrop the work in the pot, watch it cannonball\nI done seen 'em ball, I done seen 'em fall\nRest in peace to my nigga, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou might also like\nI can't explain it, how I'm getting to the payments\nRest in peace to my nigga, God bless all his babies\nAnd he gettin' so much money, I know this shit sound crazy\nBut he coulda retired and he was born in the 80's\nAnd my hair look I'm from Haiti, haters say I act funny\nI'm on my baby, I'm about my cash money\nI'm tryna get meals like I'm past hungry\nGot two or three \"Rest In Peace\" tats on me\nWhat's really real? Just left the dealership\nPull your girl off my car, that's that whip appeal\nI'm 'bout to milk the game, Enfamil\nHit the girl with my two's, Benadryl\n\nI'm like a quarterback, watch me hand it off\nDrop the work in the pot, watch it cannonball\nI done seen 'em ball, I done seen 'em fall\nRest in peace to my nigga, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg\nYou da realest, dawg, you, you da realest, dawg"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsSpend It (Remix) Lyrics\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, it's mine, I spend it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nIt's mine, I spend it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\n\nI am smoking on exotic, my girl ain't got no stomach\nEvery time we have sex she always ask me for a hundred\nI ask her is she working, she ask me do I want it\nI say when I went to school bitch money was the subject\n\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, it's mine, I spend it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nIt's mine, I spend it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nYou might also like\nI'm riding around on my side of town, boxing gloves I beat the trial\nI had the coke I had a smile, I had a coat for every style\nCrocodile the gator type, I'm allergic to the hater type\nI take ya wife, give her back, 9 months after that, SIMILAC!\nSimilar the saying, mama's baby daddy's maybe\nWhen we had sex I was in a Mercedes\nAnd I ain't crazy, but if that's my baby\nThen we gonna have to name the little baby Mercedes\nThe money that I'm making I don't see you like I'm blind\nI'd rather spend money baby I don't spend time\nMy pockets on full, and so is my gas tank\nAnd all my cars got gas in the ashtray\n\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, it's mine, I spend it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nIt's mine, I spend it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\n\nI'm riding around on my side of town wit' my dubs up and my window down\nIt's the king homie I'm on one, them suckers know they don't want none\nSteady repping that one son, Bankhead, Cedar Hills\nI'm on Simpson Road and I'm going over to pick up some dough from in Adamsville\nMy seat white, my paint tight, spray candy red the same at the wheel\nGot a bag of pills in my stash spot, steady whipping them racks out\nGot a quarter-mil in my Louis bag if you wanna know what that sack 'bout\nStill rep for them have-nots, try me homie you assed out\nI got Striver's Row in my denim tag and Akoo shit, new kicks\nSupersport on deuces, bumping that Trap Muzik\nI'm super-paid, I'm Gucci, 2 cute chicks who do tricks\nStay out of my business, when I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, it's mine, I spend it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nI'm riding around and I'm getting it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it\nIt's mine, I spend it, it's mine, I spend it\nIt's mine, I spend it, I'm riding around and I'm getting it"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsRiot Lyrics\nSpinz, what's happening, mayne?\nYou feel me? I told the whole squad, mayne\nCut it up!\n\nI say, damn right they got it, damn right they got it\nDamn right they got it, damn, damn right they got it\nDamn right they got it, damn right they got it\nDamn right they got it, damn right they got it\nI said lame niggas be quiet, lame, lame niggas be quiet\nLame niggas be quiet, you in the presence of a real nigga\nI said lame niggas be quiet, lame niggas be quiet\nLame, lame niggas be quiet, you in the real nigga presence\n\nI eat your girl up for breakfast, won\u2019t save you no extra\nSay she fucking with me cause a real nigga's her preference\nDrinking like I'm from Texas, and you know I stay flexing\nAnd if you don't know I go by Tity 2 Necklace\n\nI say, damn right I got it, damn right I'm 'bout it\nClique full of killers, please don\u2019t get us excited\nYeah we smoking loud, so lame niggas be quiet\nAnd if you fuck with us, we gon' start up a riot\nI-I'ma start a riot, I'ma start a riot\nI'ma start a riot, I'ma start a riot\nI'ma start a riot, I'ma start a riot (yeah)\nI'ma start a riot, I'ma start a riot (2 Chainz!)\nYou might also like\nAin't stunting these niggas, ain't stunting these bitches\nTwo cigarillos, look, look like extensions\nYeah I\u2019m from the Southside, her mouth wide, my pack loud\nMy gat loud, I back out and click clack, pow pow\nCourt dates, skip trial, my rep is a reptile\nNow and Later, alligators, I stepped on the work like a stepchild\nPimps up, hoes down, make your girl pull her clothes down\nHer hair down and I\u2019m down, her phone off so don\u2019t dial\nThis right here is that no style, I don\u2019t know how I do the shit\nI\u2019m true to this, True Religion, they taking swag with no permission\nAll year, it's Gucci season, G's on my belt buckle\nCocaine on my left knuckle, kill you and bury what's left of you\n\nDamn right I got it, damn right I'm 'bout it\nClique full of killers, please don\u2019t get us excited\nYeah I'm smoking loud, so lame niggas be quiet\nAnd if you fuck with us, we gon' start up a riot\nI-I'ma start a riot, I'ma start a riot\nI'ma start a riot, I'ma start a riot\nI'ma start a riot, I'ma start a riot\nI'ma start a riot, I'ma start a riot (2 Chainz!)"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsDope Peddler Lyrics\nEvery evening you will find him around our neighborhood\nIt's the old dope peddler doing well by doing good\n(Shawty get them kids out the street!)\n\nStarted off with a OZ\nEnd up riding fo' deep\nPull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\nI said I pull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\nStarted off with a OZ\nEnd up riding fo' deep\nStarted off with a OZ\nEnd up riding fo' deep\nPull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\n\nI said I pull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\nMost of my niggas got gold teeth\nMost of my bitches got tattoos\nMost of my niggas think cash rules\nAnd I mess up hairdo's like it's a pair of shoes\nAnd I need a parachute when I'm up there\nI'm in the trap cuz I work there\n\nStarted off with a OZ\nEnd up riding fo' deep\nPull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\nI said I pull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\nStarted off with a OZ\nEnd up riding fo' deep\nStarted off with a OZ\nEnd up riding fo' deep\nPull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\nYou might also like\nWhen the shades of night are falling\nComes a fellow everyone knows\nIt's the old dope peddler spreading joy wherever he goes\n(Let me take my shades off a little (...) See what these bitches looking like!)\n\nSee what these bitches looking like\nStick in all crooked like\nLouie V is my Kryptonite\nTake your bitch and I give her back\nGive her this and I give her that\nFine wine and lobster tail\nCandle light and Chrisette Michele\nLook at the pussy and play kiss and tell\nFix her hair then fix her nails\nEven pay a few bills\nWay I'm running shit man I should have a shoe deal\nAnd my whole crew ill\nPockets on Fatburger\nGoing so hard you'd think I mixed a Viagra with a Soda\nStaying focused, this yola here\nBlack and white ice: polar bear\nYou hold her hand and I hold her hair\nI pull her close and put it there\nStarted off with a OZ\nEnd up riding fo' deep\nPull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\nI said I pull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\nStarted off with a OZ\nEnd up riding fo' deep\nStarted off with a OZ\nEnd up riding fo' deep\nPull up to that club like motherfucking ho you don't know me\n\nWhen the shades of night are falling\nComes a fellow everyone knows\nIt's the old dope peddler spreading joy wherever he goes"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsIn Town Lyrics\nGirl I'm on that clean shit, you already know\nYou ain't never seen this, I'm ready to go\nI got em saying, I, I, I, I, I, I\nI know I've been away\nBut I, I, I, I, I, I\nI'm in your city today\n\nI know you love me\nAnd I know you're down\nCuz we always end up fucking every time I'm in town\nEvery time I'm in town (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh)\nEvery time I'm in town (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh)\n\nBaby I just landed, you gon pick me up\nHeard you like to squirt, I might lick it up\nConspicuous, I speed it up\nAnd I slow it down like I'm on Robitussin\nI'm known for crushin', you're known for blushin'\nOh what was that\nYou blowing kisses, I throw em back, pull into that culdesac\nBack then no chauffeur, back seat like a sofa\nOne leg on my shoulder, other leg and it's over\nYou might also like\nI know you love me\nAnd I know you're down\nCuz we always end up fucking very time I'm in town\nEvery time I'm in town (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh)\nEvery time I'm in town (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh)\n\nMet her once and you missed me, girl you crazy\nNo makeup on, you're still pretty lady\nAnd you beautiful, inside and outside\nI don't know if I should buy my wife a house, or make you my house wife\nYou call me, I come through\nYou pass out, I come too\nDippin it like fondue, spinach dip, cheese stick\nAppetizers, entrees, it's you in that lingerie\nAs far as race, you're first place, I'm only in town for one day\n\nI know you love me\nAnd I know you're down\nCuz we always end up fucking very time I'm in town\nEvery time I'm in town (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh)\nEvery time I'm in town (Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh Oh)\n\nGirl I'm on that clean shit, you already know\nYou ain't never seen this, I'm ready to go\nI got em saying, I, I, I, I, I, I\nI know I've been away\nBut I, I, I, I, I, I\nI'm in your city today\nNo autotune was used in the making of this recording, thank you for listening"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsSpend It Lyrics\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, it's mine I spend it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, it\u2019s mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, it's mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nIt's mine I spend it, it's mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\n\nI am smoking on exotic, my girl ain\u2019t got no stomach\nEvery time we have sex she always ask me for a hundred\nI asked her if she worth it, she asked me do I want it\nI say when I went to school bitch money was the subject!\n\nI'm ridin round and I'm gettin' it, I'm ridin round and I'm gettin' it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, it's mine I spend it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, it\u2019s mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, it's mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nIt's mine I spend it, it's mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nYou might also like\nI'm ridin' round my side of town, boxing gloves, I beat the trial\nI had the coke, I had a smile, I had a coat for every style\nCrocodile the gator type, I'm allergic to the hater type\nI'll take ya wife, give her back, 9 months after that SIMILAC!\nSimilar to saying mama's babydaddy maybe uhh\nWhen we had sex I was in the Mercedes\nAnd I ain't crazy but if that\u2019s my baby\nThen we gonna have to name that lil baby Mercedes\nThe money that I makin' I don\u2019t see ya like I'm blind\nI rather spend money baby I don\u2019t spend time\nMy pocket\u2019s on full and so is my gas tank\nAnd all my cars got gas in the ashtray\n\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, it's mine I spend it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, it\u2019s mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, it's mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nIt's mine I spend it, it's mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\n\nPho-to ready my polo out the cleaners\nI'm the the perfect definition of something you\u2019ve never seen of\nMaserati, Kawasaki, bought my girl a beamer\nThe jewelry I got on is matchin' with the tequila\nPatron, margaritas, double for my divas\nI bring all my guns to work, Gilbert Arenas\nPlus I'm killin' features and I'm killin' shows\nI should have sex in the coffin\u2019 cause I\u2019m killin' these hoes\nFulfilling these goals, climbin' up the ladder\nShoot your ass down you know I rep Atlanta (Southside!)\nI'm ridin' around stuntin', smokin' loud in public\nTalkin loud in public, yeah my entourage is bucking\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, it's mine I spend it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nI'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it, it\u2019s mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, it's mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it\nIt's mine I spend it, it's mine I spend it\nIt's mine I spend it, I'm ridin' round and I'm gettin' it"}
{"text":"3 ContributorsGarlic Mashed Potatoes LyricsGarlic Mashed Potatoes\n\u2022 2-3 pounds yukon gold potatoes (half peeled, half unpeeled)\n\u2022 1\/4 stick unsalted butter\n\u2022 1\/2 pint heavy cream\n\u2022 3 tablespoons minced garlic\n\u2022 3 tablespoons sour cream\n\u2022 Handful of chopped parsley\n\u2022 Kosher salt, black pepper, garlic powder\n1. If wearing a four-finger ring, carefully place it on a side table before starting to cook\n2. Cut potatoes into quarters add butter with the mixture\n3. Place potatoes in a pot of salted, cold water, and bring to a boil\n4. Let potatoes boil vigorously until they are fork-tender\n5. While potatoes are boiling, pour heavy cream, minced garlic, salt and pepper into small gold sauce pot, add butter with the mixture, and bring mixture to a boil\n6. Strain potatoes through golden colander, and place in a separate golden bowl\n7. Once this is done, play \"Feds Watching\" and celebrate the good times you had this year\n8. Once done with that, add sour cream and half of the chopped parsley to the potatoes\n9. Slowly add the heated cream mixture to the potatoes while whisking, creating a creamy, smooth consistency\n10. Adjust flavor with salt, pepper, and\/or garlic powder\n11. Serve in gold bowl and garnish with remaining parsley"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsNetflix Lyrics\nI smoked a blunt for dinner, another blunt for breakfast\n2 Chainz, got 'em staring at my necklace\nLet's make a sex tape and put it on Netflix\nLet's make a sex tape and put it on Netflix\nShe got it, I want it, I want it, she got it\nI'm dodging paparazzi, my outfit from Versace\nCopy, copy, all these niggas just copy\nI just bought me a new watch and these new niggas just watchin'\n\nI know you had the time of your life\nI know you had the time of your life\nYou know I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty\nI'll be countin' this shit all night\nI know you had the time of your life\nI know you had the time of your life\nYou know I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty\nI'll be countin' this shit all night\n\nWhen I die, bury me inside the liquor store\nCause when I die, Fergie still gon' be gettin' dough\nYou do what you can, I do what you can't\nYou smoke that Bobby B-B-Brown, we on that Shabba Ranks\nI got it, you want it, you want it, I got it\nMy girls go shopping, that ain't a mall, that's my closet\nSo copy (copy), copy, all these bitches just copy\nHonor student wit' double Ds, that ain't the bra, that's my ta-tas\nYou might also like\nI know you had the time of your life\nI know you had the time of your life\nYou know I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty\nI'll be countin' this shit all night\nI know you had the time of your life\nI know you had the time of your life\nYou know I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty\nI'll be countin' this shit all night\n\nYeah, yeah...\nI'm gettin' to the monies, with an apostrophe\nFucked her on a pile of clothes, now she a closet freak\nYeah, I bear arms, I got something up my sleeve\nAnd when she wit' me, she don't wanna leave\nShe just wanna freak, she don't wanna sleep\nPut it in her mouth, now she don't wanna speak\nYeah, I'm at the club, I got strippers at my table\nI call doin' a 69 a favor for a favor\nFrom the cradle to the grave\nShoot a nigga from his ankle to his waist\nYou can tell that I'm paid cause I'm high-class\nFucked a bitch in her eyelashes\nWe in a jet, who gon' fly past us?\nTint all in my eyeglasses, I don't see ya, hater\nAnd I don't get dropped, bitch, I drop the label\nGoddamn!"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsGotta Lotta Lyrics\nLotta dope\nGotta lotta dope\nBa-ba-da-bope\n\nDa-ba-da-ba-deee, da-ba-da-bope\nBa-ba-da-bope\nWe gotta lotta dope\nWe gotta lotta coke\nWe got weed, that's a lotta smoke\nYeah, that\u2019s that loud I hope\nAnd we gotta lotta dope\nBa-ba-da-bope\n\nOkay, we gotta lotta dope (yeah)\nYeah, we got the hotter hoes\nI said we done shot a lot of folk (bow)\nWe be in and out of court\nAnd I done seen so many cowards croak\nIt\u2019s like, watching flowers grow\nI mean please, don't you cowards know\nWe will leave your bloody body on your mama\u2019s porch?\nLord, born in the projects\nPapa was a rolling stone, selling rock crack\nYeah, I grew up in my day\nMaking juugs on a phone with no contacts\nI'm drinking Actavis only, no Hi-Tech\nHold on, think I'm getting too high tech\nYeah, I think she getting a contact\nNow she needs some dope dick and she know who to contact\nYou might also like\nDa-ba-da-ba-deee, da-ba-da-bope\nBa-ba-da-bope\nI said we gotta lotta dope\nWe gotta lotta coke\nWe got weed, that\u2019s a lotta smoke\nYeah, that\u2019s that loud I hope\nI said we gotta lotta dope\nYeah, ba-ba-da-bope\n\nYo Tunes, pass the steel or bash the steel\nMy passion real, I'm fashion ill\nThe pussy niggas are Massengil, mass appeal\nMy past is real before I had the deal, you dig?\nPies and cakes, out of state\nLies is fake, God don\u2019t make mistakes\nGot the girl pussy smelling like codeine syrup\nGot the bands on me like a football field, I'm ill\nI deserve a threesome for my birthday\nIf she pretty it's Magic City on the first date\nCup of lean and toast, yeah I\u2019m 'posed to boast\nGoodie Mo the quote, not many coming close\nTrying to smoke what I never smoked before\nDream what I never dreamed before\nWoke up and see my Rolls sky high, I ride by\nI drive by, then hop out\nDa-ba-da-ba-deee, da-ba-da-bope\nYeah, ba-ba-da-bope\nI said we gotta lotta dope\nYeah, we gotta lotta coke\nWe got weed, that\u2019s a lot of smoke\nYeah, that\u2019s that loud I hope\nI said we gotta lotta dope\nYeah, ba-ba-da-bope\n\nDa-ba-da-ba-deee, da-ba-da-bope\n(Gotta lot, gotta lot) Ba-ba-da-bope\nI said we gotta lotta dope\n(Got a lot, got a lot) Yeah, she snort a lotta coke\nWe got weed, that\u2019s a lotta smoke\nYeah, that\u2019s that loud I hope\nI said we gotta lotta dope\n(Yeah) Ba-ba-da-bope"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsPoor Fool Lyrics\nPoor fool, streets don't love you like I do\n(My mama always said)\nI said close your mouth and eat\nYou make some paper, then you make your own rules\n(My mama always said, ayy, damn)\nPoor fool, streets don't love you like I do\nI said close your mouth and eat\nYou make some paper, then you make your own rules\n\nI'm from the hood and it's evident\nUsed to sell drugs out my residence\nStayed in section 8 with relatives\nOpportunity knockin', I let 'em in\nI done put Forgis on everything\nI left the mall like Ginobili\nAnd if I'm not successful, ain't nobody gon' come console me\nI pray my mama quit smokin'\nWhen my dad died, I got focused\nI gotta table full of Ace of Spades\nI don't fuck around with you jokers (ooh)\nAin't heard a word from my old friends\nHeard they wanna kick my doors in\nI done loaded up the 2-2-3\nI'm so high they might call a goaltend, yeah\nLord knows, stashed work in the console\nSo many autos in my garage, I can't open my car door\nBond on me like the sun on me\nGettin' this bread she say, \"You dropped crumbs on me\"\nWalked in the club and got ones only\nNeed a tat on my stomach that say prawns only\nRaised by single parent Black woman\nThey call me Tity Boi 'cause she used to spoil me\nShe always told me\nYou might also like\nPoor fool, streets don't love you like I do\n(My mama always said)\nI said close your mouth and eat\nYou make some paper, then you make your own rules\n(My mama always said, ayy, damn)\nPoor fool, streets don't love you like I do\nI said close your mouth and eat\nYou make some paper, then you make your own rules\n\nSmoking on a yacht, call me Ricky Steamboat\nBags full of gas, used to serve them through the screen door\nTryna flip a brick, Shaq at the free throw\nTaught by Scarface, Brad Jordan, Al Pacino, wooo\nNo rules, most of my partnas homeschooled\nMost of my partnas got charges\nAnd I ain't talking about no mothafuckin' dodges\nTrappin' up outta the college\nI'm addicted to the rice at Benihana\nRaised by a single parent Black woman\nThey call me Tity Boi 'cause she used to spoil me\nShe always told me\n\nPoor fool, streets don't love you like I do\n(Yeah)\nI said close your mouth and eat\nYou make some paper, then you make your own rules\n(My mama always said, ayy, damn)\nPoor fool, streets don't love you like I do\nI said close your mouth and eat\nYou make some paper, then you make your own rules"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsMF\u2019N Right Lyrics\n\nNow that\u2019s crazy\nNow that\u2019s hard Mike WiLL, that\u2019s hard\nSee I ain\u2019t see it like that, that\u2019s hard\nYou hard bruh\nThat\u2019s why, that\u2019s why we been friends for so long bruh\nThat\u2019s why I used to sneak you in the club bruh\nJust for that reason right there bruh\nAight bruh, let me just freestyle some more, cause this shit\nI\u2019m smoking the LSD\nAnd god dang, I got a little drink downstairs\nI don\u2019t need it though, let\u2019s go\nLet me just fuck with this shit \n\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\n\nMike told me this gon\u2019 be your favorite song\nOoh, wear that red one, that my favorite thong\nPut \u2018em on, I said baby put \u2018em on\nI said what you gonna do when you go home?\nKiss your man after you sucked on my woo!\nShe called my phone, I told her I was at the stu\nLast name Chainz, first name 2\nPull up on me, shawty you know what to do\nYou might also like\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\n\nI bought some gold chains with my drug money\nThen wore it on the stage just to stunt on \u2018em\nThat\u2019s how we do it on the south side\nMight buy an AK using all 5\u2019s\nPittsburgh, Zone 6, Zone trey\nZone 1, do this shit like every day\nOld Nat, Godby Road, Candler Road\n24\u2019s got the Wraith pigeon toed\n\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\n\nGas station, re-up on the petrol\nHit the trap and re-up on the petrol\nShit, by the time you get it it\u2019s a retro\nShit, used to have a job outside of Citgo\nShit, by the time you get it I\u2019ll be peww nigga\nYeah I been a player since the womb nigga\nOG Kush is my perfume nigga\nIce on my wrist, I got my mind right\nRiding down the street with the Klondikes\nTwo black hoes, white one in the middle\nI\u2019m getting to the S with two lines in the middle\nGot a bankroll that\u2019ll make it whip\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right\nTold a bitch you motherfucking right"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsGot One Lyrics\nSometimes I have them thoughts\nLike I'm too real for this shit\nLabels keep callin'\nI need 2 mil for this shit!\nTook a mixtape\nTurned it to a mansion\nThen I took my last pack\nAnd it turned into gymnastics\nThe crazy thing about it\nI been knew I had it\nI was being patient\nY'all was being stagnant\nThe crazy thing about it\nI been gettin' money\nI been gettin' pussy\nShades cost 600\nThe crazy thing about it\nI don't need nobody\nI don't need no co-signer\nTalking bout I got 'em\nThe crazy thing about it\nEverything been crazy\nMy girl cousin died\nNow who gon' take care of them babies\nYou might also like\nA-Town, we got one\nWestside, we got one\nEastside, we got one\nSouthside, we got one\nGot one, I got one\nThis pistol on me, I got one\nThis check homie, I got one\nRespect homie, I got one\nA-Town, we got one\nWestside, we got one\nEastside, we got one\nSouthside, we got one\nGot one, I got one\nThis pistol on me, I got one\nThis check homie, I got one\nRespect homie, I got one\n\nThis Polo, not Izod\nI get dough like Tae Kwon\nAsking me what I'm on\nI say my bank account is on steroids\nTrappin' off my Android\nTryin' not to go fed for it\nCause I'm so high, talkin' I'm so fly\nI don't know if I should l land for it\nAddicted to codeine\nMy side effect is a red girl\nIf I buy the pussy you payin' for it\nPut your head through the headboard\nI say it but, I don't get no credit for it\nPull up in that short bus\nTell 'em this is Sp. Ed. Tour\nA-Town, we got one\nWestside, we got one\nEastside, we got one\nSouthside, we got one\nGot one, I got one\nThis pistol on me, I got one\nThis check homie, I got one\nRespect homie, I got one\nA-Town, we got one\nWestside, we got one\nEastside, we got one\nSouthside, we got one\nGot one, I got one\nThis pistol on me, I got one\nThis check homie, I got one\nRespect homie, I got one"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsFREEBASE Lyrics\nWhat is it?\nFreebase\nWhat's free about it? (Honorable C.N.O.T.E.)\nI thought if I said, \"Listen, should I talk about freebase and what is it?\" or somethin'?\nAnd people said, \"Well, no, because then people will start doin' it\"\nNo, let me\u2014 I gotta talk about what happened to me\n\nSee, where we're from, it's all or nothing\nAnd we take penitentiary chances like it's nothing\nWe came from nothing\nFreebase on top of the oven\nGet money my type of discussion\nY'all can do this shit for free, a nigga like me gon' be hustlin'\nFreebase, freebase, freebase, freebase\nFreebase, freebase, freebase, freebase (2 Chainz)\nFreebase\n\nI came from nothing\nMe and my niggas, we came from nothing, sold that 'caine like it's nothing\nTold you from the introduction, I came from the pain and suffering\nTwo pit bulls and a TEC-9, TEC-9 use to jam up on me all the time\nSwear to god, if you come up in my mama yard, I'ma shoot that motherfucker 'til it get tired\nBig dually truck got six tires, big ties when I rhyme mixtapes\nAnd I keep shitting on the competition, I'm about to put out me a shit tape\nGuess we ain't playin' by no rules, every night I freestyle on Pro Tools\nTell Flex come to the A, we'll carjack him by one of them regular-ass old schools\nI don't respect my elders, these right here Maison Margiela\nI cannot get no earrings, it'll make my Rolex jealous\nI've been a felon since fifteen, my Expedition had a big screen\nHalf you niggas was constipated, half you niggas wasn't shit then\nZone one all the way to zone six, fuck y'all, I'll buy my own shit\nFuck y'all, I'll buy my own whip, fuck y'all, I'll buy my own brick\nTell them pussy niggas that ain't pay shit, \"Better be ready to let the gat loose\"\nI done did a song with everybody from Jermaine Dupri down to Papoose\nYou might also like\nI came from nothing (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI came from nothing (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nI came from nothing, I came from nothing (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI came from nothing, I came from nothing (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\n\nWork hard, play hard, work hard again\nMy bankroll had twins, can you comprehend?\nSeafood lover, I don't eat pork\nUsed to hit them J's like a three-point, my partner mascot is a pitchfork\nAnd you already know what this for, me too, rent due\nDoggin' these hoes like a shih tzu, so cold, I recorded in an igloo\nNigga asked me why I don't drink, man, let me tell you what the wine do\nMy partner came in and said, \"This my girl,\" I had to tell that motherfucker, \"Mine too\"\nCourt dates in the summertime, might pull up in a 'vert\nNo matter what the charges is, I'ma pull off with a smirk\nThis right here for Old Nat, this right here for Godby Road\nThis right here for Riverdale, trappin' at the Stop-N-Go\nTrappin' at the Texaco, it was Amaco before it was BP\nMy plug from Mexico, he fell out when he seen me on TV\nSold drugs to my loved ones and it's hard for me to admit it\nThe first time I've seen a crack pipe was in my parents' kitchen\n\nI came from nothing (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI came from nothing (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)\nI came from nothing, I came from nothing (Skrrt, skrrt)\nI came from nothing, I came from nothing (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsUndastatement Lyrics\nThey say I run the streets, I tell 'em no wonder\nThe cheapest thang I got on is my belt and it's 400\nReal recognize real and you don't look familiar\nIf my girl worked at a spa, man she still wouldn't feel ya\nCocaine flow, they done dropped me in the pot\nI came out hard and I sold out the block\nTity 2 Chainz, I been killin' hairdos\nSo many dates on my calendar it looks tattooed\nGot my mind on my moolah\nMy Tech 9 got a cooler\nThey scratching they medulla\nThey like how the fuck you do ya\nDon't make me number 2 ya\nOkay, I need some Charmin\nI got swag for sale and I'm giving niggas bargains\nRappers are my target\nMy flow so retarded\nNeed a handicap sticker for my 16s when I park 'em\nWhen she in the front I make her put in reverse\nAnd if that pussy good then I'll put it in a verse\nAnd I'm killing these niggas, Put 'em in the dirt\nAnd yeah, I'm killing pussy we should do it in a hearse\nI woke up this morning, said I'mma get it\nTurned right over and I gave that bitch the business\nHopped out the king size\nMy friends are green guys\nSuit on, it look like I done sold bean pies\nQui-Qui-Quiet storm\nI flick my lighter on\n2 blunts together like an extension cord\nYou might also like\nOh yeah we gettin' to the money (Undastatement)\nI know you heard my trap bunkin' (Undastatement)\nAll my bitches bad (That's a undastatement)\nMy car is going really fast (That's a undastatement)\nOh yeah we gettin' to the money (Undastatement)\nI know you heard my trap bunkin' (Undastatement)\nAll my bitches bad (That's a undastatement)\nMy car is going really fast (That's a undastatement)\n\nYou need a standing ovation\nIf you stand in my location\nEvery nigga round here done been shot or on probation\nIt's the life we chose, guns and hoes\nGuns and roses, niggas know that rock don't roll\nGrab the spray, Drop the phone, Cop the O\nNiggas know my flow is Mop 'N Glo\nYou know where I be on\nI be on the styrofoam\nChicka-Chi 1,2 like it was a microphone\nYour girl's like a drive-thru, I want a combo\nAnd she's so wet I need a towel, pronto\n2 Chainz, A.K.A. condo\nCause that's how much these chains cost if you don't know\nOh yeah we gettin' to the money (Undastatement)\nI know you heard my trap bunkin' (Undastatement)\nAll my bitches bad (That's a undastatement)\nMy car is going really fast (That's a undastatement)\nOh yeah we gettin' to the money (Undastatement)\nI know you heard my trap bunkin' (Undastatement)\nAll my bitches bad (That's a undastatement)\nMy car is going really fast (That's a undastatement)"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsDedication Lyrics\nYou gotta known how to have fun when you gettin' these checks man\nNah, I\u2019mma put this on your camera\nYou need\u2026 I\u2019m bout to tell you right now\nTell me what I need\nTity Boi, Tity Boi\nYou need to tell Cris, gon' let you go\nYoung Mula it out, we have fun over here, we just eating\nWe having fun, we just doing stuff, we don\u2019t even care about\n(Go get my shit)\nYoung Money, we care\n\n\nIf it wasn\u2019t for Wayne, it wouldn\u2019t be\nA lot of dudes in the game, including me\nWe was smoking that gas in \u201903\nWas gon\u2019 sell a few bags to Lil Fee\nCouple years removed from HBs\nTatted lyrics from Jigga to Jay-Z\nI went to Eastover before Katrina\nRemember going to Magic riding in my Bimmer\nAnd this was way before FEMA, and you was rappin\u2019 and singin\u2019\nAnd I was slanging the Ps and smoking nigga like Newport\nComin up off of Too Short, my underwear was my hoop shorts\nAnd then I went on tour and recorded songs on your tour bus\nAnd that was \u201908\nThat\u2019s the first time I met Drake\nWhen I hit your cup with that drank\nHad a nigga stomach like, \"Wait, wait wait, wait\", mm\nYou might also like\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\n\nYou relocated to MIA\nYou told me, \"Shawty this where I stay\"\nI came down to pay a visit\nYou told me Zoe Pound and them was trippin'\nAnd you, you wasn\u2019t dippin\u2019\nHad the M-16 and with the extra clip, ready to act ignorant\nRidin\u2019 off in the Phantom and Mr. G he was driving\nPumpin\u2019 that Playaz Circle, you told me that we was riding\nI told you that I was rappin\u2019, told you I wasn\u2019t writing\nYou said Luda was foolish because he wasn\u2019t excited\nThat was way before Tyga, I saw Nicki with Gucci\nYou said, \"You can make a million rappin' 'bout some pussy\nI did\", T, Fuke, Marley Marl, shining like Armor Oil\nYou can ask Mack, I was YM \u2018fore all of y\u2019all\nStunna said I reminded him of Johnny\nIn this world you either selling or you buying\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\n\nYou tatted your face and changed the culture\nYou screamed \"Suu whoop\" and them gangstas loved you\nYou bought a Bugatti so you can flex\nAnd most of the bad bitches your ex\nRide 'til the wheels fall off and they got wobbly\n\"Duffle Bag\" video, we shot that bitch on Godby\nYou was holding a sty-ry, I had more gold than a pirate\nThey said it ain\u2019t about stylin\u2019, what they tryna kick knowledge?\nDuffle Bag Boys, yeah I can\u2019t forget Dolla\nAnd going to get the money is some words that I follow\nI swallowed my pride, smoking endo outside\nStraight from ColleGrove, I\u2019m reporting live\n\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, uhh, that my dawg\nThat my dawg, yeah, that my dawg\n"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsSmell Like Money Lyrics\nHere I go, here I go, this that C5\nBitch, I\u2019m back, with that crack like panty lines, asinine\nI get blow like dandelions, fuck more hoes than advertised\nThey say, \"Tune, you\u2019re dead wrong,\" I say wrong had to die\nPussy nigga don\u2019t keep it real no more\nDrug dealers changed, but the high stay the same\nPrices go up, but the high stay the same\nGotta watch for undercovers like crying in the rain\nChillin\u2019 in the crib with the lock on the door\nLayin\u2019 on the couch with the Glock on the floor\nWithin arm reach, security, alarm breach\nI just cut off the lights, hope I don\u2019t shoot my hoe\nI eat so much shrimp\nI smoke so much hemp\nThe world too small, it feel like four walls\nYou see, I got holes punched in\nMy chances are cold cut thin\nBut I still took \u2018em, and nigga, we made it\nT, roll that killer, weed up in the swisher\nAnd make it as fat as a pig in a blanket\nMy BFF is Benjamin Franklin\nThey cry for help, we get \u2018em a hankie\nAin\u2019t nothing sweet but the shit that we drinkin\u2019\nThe bitches we bangin\u2019, the cinnamon danish\nThe penalty's pending, shit is restraining\nIt is a shame, but niggas is shameless\nNiggas is assholes\nOr enemas, finna get anal\nInjury, time out, I just blew my mind out\nBut still I\u2019m maintaining\nReal gangsta shit, it get dangerous\nYou talking money and guns, two languages\nI throw niggas from off of the plane I\u2019m in\n\"Oh, my God, it\u2019s rainin' men\"\nSaid the weatherman to the anchorman\nI send hella cash to the bank I\u2019m with\nWhat you do it for if it ain\u2019t for this?\nI watch my step so much, I\u2019m starting to feel like my ankles\u2019 wrist\nCold hearted, starting to feel like I\u2019m in Anchorage when I think of this\nAnd rude awakenings get taken in like fragrances\nYou might also like\nBitch, I smell like money, dopeman cologne (yeah)\nI say, bitch, I smell like money (money), that\u2019s that dopeman cologne (tote!)\nAnd if he ain\u2019t getting money, don\u2019t love him, leave his broke ass alone (yeah)\nI say if he ain\u2019t getting money, leave his stank ass alone\n\u2018Cause bitch, I smell like money (yeah)\nI smell like money\nWhen you this rich, they call it wealthy\nShit, they gotta call it somethin\u2019\nYeah, Lord, I done got too rich for stuntin\u2019, damn\nBut not for thuggin\u2019\nThat\u2019s right bitch I smell like money (money), money (money)\nYou smell me coming\n\nYeah, 2 Chainz, uh\nTotin\u2019 double barrels in a horse and carriage\nAin\u2019t scared of nothing except God and marriage\nThrough the concrete grew a rose petal\nIf trapping was a sport, I\u2019d have a gold medal\nI steal her, like Jerome Bettis\nCall me Trill Cosby, I might spike my own beverage\nParallel park in front of Neiman Marcus\nHe ain\u2019t never fly, nigga, like an ostrich\nThey say ain\u2019t nothing for free, but please free my partners\nMight have a swag contest and give out free Versaces\nYeah, lobster rolls for an appetizer\nBad red bitch give me a lap-etizer\nI\u2019m in my Rolls Royce because it\u2019s black and wiser\nAnd don\u2019t get in the way, my nig, this rapid fire\nBrrr, stick \u2018em, I\u2019m a victim of being a victim\nCodeines, Xanax, and liquor\nPrescriptions and couple pistols\nGot clean Molly with the crystals\nMiddle finger to the judicials\nFork and a pot is my utensils\nHad a threesome with two sisters\nI get head and you kiss her\nI don\u2019t never call and you miss her\nI got every gun except a missile\nI paid attention to the minister\nMy silhouette is sinister\nOnly child with trust issues\nYou couldn\u2019t walk a mile in my hoop shoes\nMe and Tune, two loose screws\nTwo parts in my box cut, my pop wouldn\u2019t even pop up\nLast night I prayed to God and asked for him to make a drop truck\nPolo T and ice watch, moccasins without socks\nAnd I smell like money, I can count a hundred thousand with the lights off\nWoo! Yeah\nI say, bitch, I smell like money, that\u2019s that dopeman cologne (yeah)\nAnd if he ain\u2019t getting money, don\u2019t love him, leave his broke ass alone (yeah)\nI say if he ain\u2019t getting money, leave his stank ass alone\n\u2018Cause, bitch, I smell like money"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsSaturday Night Lyrics\nY'all niggas lame for that, y'all niggas lame for that\nShoot a man in his back, should be ashamed of that\nYoung niggas banging back, young nigga banging back\nThen we gon' fade to black then we gon' fade to black\n\nI left the crib walking, drove a Mercedes back\nYou wasn't blessed with ambition so who you gon blame for that\nTried to get off the Act, still didn't know how to act\nStill pull up in the back, sit my ass right in the back\nTell my driver when he open my door to take off his hat\nDouble saran everything so that you know its a wrap\nDouble salute anybody that made it out the trap\nSome of y'all probably still owe me from back\nIn the back in the back in the back in the back\nI had that work right in front of me fuck all you niggas you wannabes\nMost of you niggas is under mes, I'ma give ya ass some to see\nMy car don't have car keys, my crib got palm trees\nPussy smell like sardine you, need to get up of my lawn please\nThis a real nigga conversation, real nigga demonstration real niggas\nNo Cristal or Hilfigers, a bunch of ignorant lil' niggas\nA bunch of red young tenders, dark skin queens, Puerto Rican princess's\nScratch my hand my palms itching, hit the dope start twitching\nThis a new kinda kitchen, marble countertops, see through fridge\n3 thousand for the microwave, touchscreen stove lil biiiiitch!!\nPlease don't make me relapse, make me start back trappin\nEverybody in the city, saying that boy Tity done started back snapping\nYou might also like\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nTell her let's go have a bite, tell her let's go have a bite\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nTreat every night like it's Saturday night, like it's Saturday night, yeah\n\nI sat in the trap no one cooked at night, I treat my third strike like its Kryptonite\nI stopped serving sacks over qualified, have you ever seen a homicide?\nHave you ever seen ya partna die? Have you ever been traumatized\nEven at graduation i had a bookbag full of yams, tryna multiply\nEnough of the negative actions, I got my paycheck off passion\nI'm wearing 4 bracelets for fashion, don't think its a race when I pass you\nStop talking that mafia shit, you never met Meech, J-bo or Illz\nLuda charged me just to dip, was there when Chaka was swung on by Tip\nI'm like oh shit we goon tear up this bitch, pull out a stick when u put up your fist\nI'm like these niggas done fucked up my fit, funny how heaven and hell co exist\nFunny how life can put you in the mix, I sold the pounds and go hustle the bricks\nI booked studio with the trap money, Lil Wayne used to come get the bags from me\nYou still asking niggas for gas money, I look at these rappers like crash dummies\nI look at these bitches that fuck with these rappers like bitch you just fucked with my last homie\nKesha can come get the last from me, Heaven can come get the last from me\nHarmony can come get the last from me, Halo can come get the last from me MAMA!\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nTell her let's go have a bite, tell her let's go have a bite\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nI hit the trap today, I'm gon' hit the club tonight, yeah\nTreat every night like it's Saturday night, like it's Saturday night, yeah"}
{"text":"25 ContributorsTurn Up Lyrics\nI walked in, then I turnt up, pockets full of hundreds\nShawty got a tan like she come from the Bahamas\nI do this all night, man I should wear pajamas\nEatin' these rappers like a school of piranhas\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\n\nI walked in, then I turn up\nGot the Benz right in front us, all my friends on the come up\nI'm like, damn, these niggas ain't a 100\nMan I keep that shit a 100, all this bling cost me a 100\n\nI walked in, then I turnt up, pockets full of hundreds\nShawty got a tan like she come from the Bahamas\nI do this all night, man I should wear pajamas\nEatin' these rappers like a school of piranhas\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nYou might also like\nI got a recipe for my destiny, southside niggas to the left of me\nSouthside niggas to the right of me, southside niggas to the death of me\nOn Ecstasy, you couldn't fuck with me, gettin' money is my specialty\nGot the game on lock, and I got a mothafuckin' extra key\nExcellence is my pedigree, buy a car and seem petty to her\nThen I paint the feet, call that shit a pedicure\nNiggas on the road ain't gettin' no money, that's a petty tour\nI can fuck your bitch, and act like I never knew her\nShe the shit, I'm manure, I'm a good pussy connoisseur\nKeep it on the low, so sometimes I get pussy on the floor\nI'm on top, so look down below, told y'all I'm 'bout to blow\nI'm 'bout the dough, I count the dough, I cash out, then I'm out the door\n\nI walked in, then I turnt up, pockets full of hundreds\nShawty got a tan like she come from the Bahamas\nI do this all night, man I should wear pajamas\nEatin' these rappers like a school of piranhas\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\n\nI walked in, then I turn up\nThen I set up on they muthafuckin' couch, roll the weed with a burner\nGot a bad bitch, and I make her hold my liquor\nShe got her girl with her, she don't know that I've been hittin' her\nRed bottom shoes with the spikes all on it\nPockets full of 100s, make all the bitches all want me\nI be movin' through the city, 100 niggas comin' with me\nOn the road of riches, it was some bitches takin' pictures\nRoll a 3-5, put together two Swishers\nMovin' like a box, fuck around and get your issue\nMan I'm pourin' up lean, got me drinkin' out the pitcher\nWalkin' in, amd I'm so sag coolin'\nTrueys on, they gotta fuck with my movement\nSouthside Duffle Bag, nigga we boomin'\nLook at how I do it it, tell that I'm gettin' it\nPlug on the way, I told that nigga 20 minutes\nRidin' real wheel through the city, nigga, pimpin'\nFirst I go the Fifths, then I'm headed up to Lenox\nSpendin' big bags, man I'm runnin' through a check\nWork just in, got a pack in the jack\nShow you how to move, niggas talkin' finesse\nProbably cuff one, then I'm offin' the rest (Gone!)\nI walked in, then I turnt up, pockets full of hundreds\nShawty got a tan like she come from the Bahamas\nI do this all night, man I should wear pajamas\nEatin' these rappers like a school of piranhas\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up\nWalked in, then I turn up, in then I turn up"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsMoney Machine Lyrics\nI told them, get on my level\nBitch, you could get on this shovel\nCoke prices high, than which was if a Tony Montana\nI just got me a bezel\nMy slippers is clean\nAll I wear Tru Religion\nI paid a grip for them jeans\nI got a lust for the cream\nI need a money machine\nI need a money machine\nI need a money machine\nI see you doing your thing, but it ain't nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\n\nI say I'm incredible, most legible\nSchedule ain't, but I can make your girl flexible, edible\nPut her top and call it putting her on my pedestal\nYou would never know, unless you worked at the bank\nCamel toe, look like steak\nAnd your boy look like great\n2 gun bang\nAnd I'm so fly I can sue an airplane\nYou can tell your girl here, because a cab came\nAnd I keep it 100, I don't need no spare change\nSome do it for the fame, some do it for the fortune\nFortunately I'm famous, 26's wheel of fortune\nAnd I been riding foreign since the fucking introduction\nYou might also like\nI see you doing your thing, it ain't got nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\nI see you doing your thing, it ain't got nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\nI need a money machine\nI see you doing your thing, it ain't got nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\n\nYo it's my time to shine, so I'm checking my Rollie\nA bet with the Lakers, I bought a necklace off Kobe\nI be fucking your girl, I was texting her only\nI told her, \"I'd like your legs better if they was open\"\nEver since the beginning, niggas knew I was focused\nStrip club tour started Magic, ended at Strokers\nI'm a fucking example of a fucking example\nHit her from the back, nigga, that's a fucking example\nI came up on Luke Campbell, I'm so sick I need Campbells\nIf you know I'm showing up, I hope you come with your camera\nGot the city on swole with my Louis bandana\nMy car is shitting on niggas, I should ride with a Pamper\n\nI see you doing your thing, it ain't got nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\nI see you doing your thing, it ain't got nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\nI need a money machine\nI see you doing your thing, it ain't got nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\nI give you something to see when you are looking this way\nIf you approaching with the drama, then we approach with the K\nAnd when you look in my eyes all you see is the pain\nOn medication, I can drink 200 a day\nWhen you hot in the A, you get a spot in the A\nIt's so big that shit look like a spot in the A\nThese niggas jogging in place and they standing in line\nTill somebody rhyme bout beating me, then they start dancing in line\nAnd if swag was a crime, I'd be doing life plus 30\nWith my ice on early, in all gold knight sterling\nTry to cook a brick off a George Foreman\nTake a girl, it'll start spoiling\nLiving room floor look like a nigga going bowling\n\nI see you doing your thing, it ain't got nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\nI see you doing your thing, it ain't got nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\nI need a money machine\nI see you doing your thing, it ain't got nothing to me\nSo when you looking at me, I give you something to see\n\nI say it's my time to get it, my time to shine\nI need a hustling trophy, it's my kind of grind\nIt's my time to get it, my time to shine\nI need a hustling trophy, it's my kind of grind, bitch"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsFeel a Way Lyrics\nOkay\nAlright\n\nA nigga never learned to save\nI be ballin' anyway (I be ballin' any\u2014)\nGod don't make no mistakes\nGod don't make no mistakes (Boom, boom)\nA nigga never learned to save\nI be ballin' anyway (Yeah, swish)\nGod don't make no mistakes\nThis life is give-and-take\n\nNeeded somethin' wavy to get my point across (Yeah)\nI work for myself so I guess I work for a boss\nLook up at the scoreboard and tell you who took the loss\nAim it at your Adam's apple, turn it to apple sauce\nEl captain turned Peter's street into a Motorcross (Skrrt)\nLast one with Def Jam but I'm still goin' off (I'm still goin' off)\nAnd it ain't about my masters, I'v\u0435 been ownin' mine\nHad a white friend mad at m\u0435 'cause I know Farrakhan (Boom)\nAnd you know this is a hit, Barry Bonds\nAnd my shawty gonna ride me like a Peloton (Ride)\nSophomore year I sold more crack than a windshield (Shit)\nDunk contest, jump over Lam' and did a windmill (Jump)\nThey ask me how I feel, I told 'em, \"Never better\" (Better)\nSmokin' on opp, I roll more Ls than Peli Peli\nI stay fly, yes I'm fly, land on Mike Pence\nI do some stupid shit, don't let 'em dawg me like Mike Vick\nYou might also like\nA nigga never learned to save (Yeah, uh)\nI be ballin' anyway (I be ballin' anyway)\nGod don't make no mistakes (Respect it)\nThis life is give-and-take (Boom, boom)\n(Southside)\n\nDon't let 'em make you feel a way\nCould've freed more\nIf they only knew that they was slaves (Slaves, slaves, slaves)\nMan, we gotta get away\nMan, your boy done caught a wave\nYou should hear the way I say (Southside)\nTalk, talk, talk to them people\nMan, y'all don't even know the language\nMan, I ain't finna do no lame shit\nThis a yacht and that's a long way from a slave ship\nHow they control our mind? (Mind)\nHow they control us though? (What?)\nHow they get us so, what? So emotional?\nYou think you Nat Turner, what you want the folks to know?\nWhen Larry Jackson called, they let Frank Ocean go\nMiddle name Mandela (Me and momma sold dope together)\nI can't hear you, Helen Keller (Since fifteen, I've been a felon)\nA felon can vote, spread the message, exhale accapella\nI still throw my diamond up, oh you still reppin' Roc-A-Fella?\nMe and Dame in the studio, diamond up (What up Dame?)\nMe and Biggs in the studio, time is up (What up Biggs?)\nWoo, and I bet they feel a way\nThirteen thousand acres, I don't know where to stay (Southside)\nA nigga never learned to save (Yeah, uh)\nI be ballin' anyway (I be ballin' anyway)\nGod don't make no mistakes (Respect it)\nGod don't make no mistakes (Boom, boom)\nA nigga never learned to save (Yeah, uh)\nI be ballin' anyway (I be ballin' anyway)\nGod don't make no mistakes\nThis life is give-and-take (Boom, boom)\n(Southside)\n\n(MWA Music)"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsExtra Lyrics\nI got extra, I got extra\nI got money, I got work\nFar as hoes, I got a plethora\n\nI get money, 12 gauge shotty\nI don't like nothing but hoes and tattoos on my body, yeah\nI got extras, you want some?\nFucked your girl on accident, that's a hit-and-run\nHeaven's sake, it's been a hell of a day\nI pray for all my niggas with a federal case, damn\nOkay\n\nSouthside, I got all this\nSnake skin on my hat, albino\nI'm rich, like Lionel, I get head like rhino\nI'm ridin' on my rivals, survival, bible\nRifle, bullets, for y'all niggas!\n\nI got extra, I got extra\nI got money, I got work\nFar as hoes, I got a plethora\nYou might also like\nI just went on the run, 100 piece for a show\nI just had a threesome for three weeks in a row, yeah\nLast name Chainz, first name 2\nI'm T.R.U. to it, you know how I do it\nI get head 'fore I screw it, first thing I do\nYeah, you know I'm stuntin' cause I'm gettin' to the money\nPut it in her tummy, pu-put it in her tummy\nHit her with the morning dick, ooh, I ain't pissed yet\nYeah, I rep the A, the only thing I flunk is piss tests\n\nSouthside, I got all this\nSnake skin on my hat, albino\nI'm rich, like Lionel, I get head like rhino\nI'm ridin' on my rivals, survival, bible\nRifle, bullets, for y'all niggas!\n\nI got extra, I got extra\nI got money, I got work\nFar as hoes, I got a plethora\n\nOkay, I'm rich, like Homie\nI got yo bitch, from my homie, 2 Chainz, what it do?\nIn the living room, full of that paper\nUsed to have a little room, now that's a house and an acre\nMy partner in the kitchen room, and he fucking with the bakin'\nChopper lift ya to the moon, nigga, fuck y'all thinking?\nIf I get her in the room, she gon' suck my babies\nTryna work her moves, tryna trap me with a baby\nIf you owe me money then, real soon, you better pay me\nMe and 2 Chainz just like shoe strings, strapped like laces\nAy, and I'm too clean, riding in a car from the 80s\nRich Homie, no new team, boy, I'm a star like Macy's\nBoy, I thank god I made it, got a couple broads in Decatur\nI'm in the fast lane driving in the car, going crazy\nAnd I got your main dame, yeah, the one you call your lady\nFirst million dollars, most important thing: saving\nAnd if you wanna book me, hit my agent\nI got eight pounds in a old car\nOn old Nat in front of skate town on the\nSouthside, I got all this\nSnake skin on my hat, albino\nI'm rich, like Lionel, I get head like rhino\nI'm ridin' on my rivals, survival, bible\nRifle, bullets, for y'all niggas!\n\nI got extra, I got extra\nI got money, I got work\nFar as hoes, I got a plethora"}
{"text":"Ooh, ooh, oh, oh, oh, ow, ow\nWow, wow, wow, ah, ow,  ow, ow\n\nI buy a new car for the bitch (For real)\nI tear down the mall with the bitch (For real)\nYou can't even talk to the bitch (No)\nShe fucking with bosses and shit (On God)\nI pull up in 'Rari's and shit (Skrrr)\nWith choppers and Harley's and shit (For real)\nI be Gucci'd down (Gucci)\nYou wearing Lacoste and shit (Bitch)\nYeah, Moncler, yuh, fur came off a bear, yuh (Yeah)\nTriple homicide, put me in a chair, yuh (In jail)\nTriple cross the plug, we do not play fair, yuh (On God)\nGot 'em tennis chains on and they real blingy (Bling)\nDraco make you do the chicken head like Chingy (Chingy)\nWalk in Neiman Marcus and I spend a light fifty (Fifty)\nPlease proceed with caution, shooters, they be right with me (21)\nBad bitch, cute face and some nice titties\n$7500 on a Saint Laurent jacket (Yeah)\nBitch, be careful when you dumpin' your ashes (Bitch)\nI ain't no sucker, I ain't cuffin' no action (Nah)\nThe skreets raised me, I'm a whole bastard (Wild)\nI bought a 'Rari just so I can go faster (Skrrr)\nNiggas tryna copy me, they playin' catch up (21)\nI might pull up in a Ghost, no Casper (21)\nI been smoking gas and I got no asthma\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 M's in my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nI got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (Fast)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\n\nYeah, dawg, huh\u2014yeah\u2014, nah for real, dawg (21)\nStraight up out the 6, now got a house in the Hills, dawg (21)\nWanna see a body, nigga? Get you killed, dawg (Wet)\nWanna tweet about me, nigga? Get you killed, dawg (Wet)\nKilled dog, I'm a real dawg\u201421\u2014, you a lil' dawg (21)\nBill dog, want a bil', dog, chasing mil's, dawg (Yeah)\nDunk right in your bitch like O'Neal, dawg (Wet)\nPlus I shoot like Reggie Mill', dawg (21)\nChopper sting you like a eel, dawg (Fast)\n\nI got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 M's in my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nI got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (Fast)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nRuler clip\u2014umm\u2014, sent a ruler hit\nPull up on yo' bitch, she say that I got a ruler dick\nSpray your block down, we not really with that ruh-rah shit\nGlock cocked now, I don't really give no fuck 'bout who I hit\nYeah, yo' bitch, she get jiggy with me, keep that Siggy with me\nBitch, I'm Mad Max, you know I got Ziggy with me\nKeep a mad mag in case a nigga wanna get busy with me\n'Rari matte black and I got a Bentley with me\n\nI got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 M's in my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nIn my bank account, yeah (On God)\nI got 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8 shooters ready to gun you down, yeah (Fast)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\nReady to gun you down, yeah (On God)\n\n$7500 on a Saint Laurent jacket\nBitch, be careful where you dumpin' your ashes\nI ain't no sucker, I ain't cuffin' no action\nThe streets raised me, I'm a whole bastard"}
{"text":"I love you\nTurn my headphone down a little bit, yeah\nFor so many reasons\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (I do), yeah, yeah yeah yeah\nYeah, yeah, ah, ah, woah, woah, woah, yeah\n\nHow much money you got? (Straight up)\nHow much money you got? (Straight up)\nHow much money you got? (Straight up)\nHow much money you got? (A lot)\n\nHow much money you got? (A lot)\nHow many problems you got? (A lot)\nHow many people done doubted you? (A lot)\nLeft you out to rot? (A lot)\nHow many pray that you flop? (A lot)\nHow many lawyers you got? (A lot)\nHow many times you got shot? (A lot)\nHow many niggas you shot? (A lot)\nHow many times did you ride? (A lot)\nHow many niggas done died? (A lot)\nHow many times did you cheat? (A lot)\nHow many times did you lie? (A lot)\nHow many times did she leave? (A lot)\nHow many times did she cry? (A lot)\nHow many chances she done gave you fuckin around with these thots? (A lot)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nEvery day that I'm alive, I\u2019ma ride with the stick\nI'd rather be broke in jail than be dead and rich\nTold my brothers take my breath if I turn to a snitch\nBut I'm 21 4L, ain\u2019t no way I'ma switch\n\nBreak it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\n\nPenitentiary chances just to make a couple bucks\nMy heart so cold I could put it in my cup\nGang vs. the world, me and my dawg, it was us\nThen you went and wrote a statement, and that really fucked me up\nMy brother lost his life and it turned me to a beast\nMy brother got life and it turned me to the streets\nI been through the storm and it turned me to a G\nBut the other side was sunny, I get paid to rap on beats\n\nHow much money you got? (A lot)\nHow many problems you got? (A lot)\nHow many people done doubted you? (A lot)\nLeft you out to rot? (A lot)\nHow many pray that you flop? (A lot)\nHow many lawyers you got? (A lot)\nHow many times you got shot? (A lot)\nHow many niggas you shot? (A lot)\nHow many times did you ride? (A lot)\nHow many niggas done died? (A lot)\nHow many times did you cheat? (A lot)\nHow many times did you lie? (A lot)\nHow many times did she leave? (A lot)\nHow many times did she cry? (A lot)\nHow many chances she done gave you?\nFuck around with these thots (A lot)\nBreak it on down, I break it on down\nI break it on down, I break it on down\nYeah, I just came from the A\nI drove back home, six-hour drive, six-and-a-half\nBefore I left, I stopped by to see my nigga 21 in the studio\nHe had two of his kids with him right in the studio, that's when I knew\nYou a stand-up nigga, I love seein' shit like that\nQuestion\nHow many faking they streams? (A lot)\nGetting they plays from machines? (A lot)\nI can see behind the smoke and mirrors\nNiggas ain't really big as they seem (Hmm)\nI never say anything (Nah), everybody got they thing (True)\nSome niggas make millions, other niggas make memes (Hmm)\nI'm on a money routine\nI don't want smoke, I want cream\nI don't want no more comparisons\nThis is a marathon and I\u2019m aware\nI been playing it back from a lack of promotions\nI never was one for the bragging and boasting\nI guess I was hoping the music would speak for itself, but the people want everything else\nOkay, no problem, I\u2019ll show up on everyone album\nYou know what the outcome will be\nI'm batting a thousand\nIt\u2019s got to the point that these rappers don't even like rappin' with me\nFuck it 'cause my nigga 21 Savage just hit me\nAnd told me he saved me a spot on a new record he got\nHe call it \"a lot,\" I open my book and I jot\nPray for Tekashi, they want him to rot\nI picture him inside a cell on a cot\n\u2019Flectin' on how he made it to the top\nWondering if it was worth it or not\nI pray for Markelle 'cause they fucked up his shot\nJust want you to know that you got it, my nigga\nThough I never met you, I know that you special\nAnd that the Lord blessed you, don't doubt it, my nigga\nDennis Smith, Jr., stay solid, my nigga\nI'm on a tangent, not how I planned it\nI had some fans that hopped and abandoned ship\nWhen they thought that I wasn't gon' pan out, I got a plan\nThey say that success is the greatest revenge, tell all your friends\nCole on a mission, cementin' the spot as the greatest that did it\nBefore it all ends, nigga\nHow much money you got? (A lot)\nHow many problems you got? (A lot)\nHow many people done doubted you? (A lot)\nLeft you out to rot? (A lot)\nHow many pray that you flop? (A lot)\nHow many lawyers you got? (A lot)\nHow many times you got shot? (A lot)\nHow many niggas you shot? (A lot)\nHow many times did you ride? (A lot)\nHow many niggas done died? (A lot)\nHow many times did you cheat? (A lot)\nHow many times did you lie? (A lot)\nHow many times did she leave? (A lot)\nHow many times did she cry? (A lot)\nHow many chances she done gave you?\nFuck around with these thots (A lot)\n\nBreak it on down, I break it on down\nI break it on down, I break it on down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it on down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down, I br-"}
{"text":"Woah\nWoah, woah\n\nYou runnin' 'round drinkin' liquor\nTakin' pictures 'cause you miss me\n(I know you miss me)\nYou runnin' 'round drinkin' liquor\nFuckin' niggas 'cause you miss me\n(You just want attention)\nYou can sleep with half the world\nBet you still won't forget me\n(On God)\nYou could find love, get married, have kids\nI'd still be realest nigga to hit it\n(Straight up, straight up, straight up, straight up)\nI was gettin' some head earlier and you crossed my mind (Straight up)\nI'm as solid as they come, but you crossed the line (21)\nYeah, you been stopped keepin' it real, I can see the signs (On God)\nWhen it came to havin' your back, I'm so real\nI prolly would've gave you my spine (Straight up)\nI'd rather have loyalty than love\n'Cause love really don't mean jack (Straight up)\nSee love is just a feeling\nYou can love somebody and still stab them in they back (On God)\nIt don't take much to love\nYou can love somebody just by being attached (21)\nSee loyalty is a action\nYou can love or hate me and still have my back (Facts)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI gave you my all (My all)\nYou was my dawg (You was my dawg)\nI would have went to war with the world on your call (On your call)\nThought you had my back (Nah)\nYou let me fall (Let me fall)\nYou healed my pain (My pain)\nThen you caused it (Then you caused it)\nNow I gotta ball without you (Straight up)\nNow I gotta ball (Straight up)\nNow I gotta ball without you (21)\nNow I gotta ball (21)\nNow I gotta ball without you (Ball)\nNow I gotta ball (Now I gotta ball)\nNow I gotta ball without you (21)\nNow I gotta ball (21, 21)\n\nYou crossed me once, it's fuck you forever (Straight up)\nMiddle school got my heart broke, stop writin' love letters (21)\nHeart cold, yeah, so cold had to buy the Moncler sweater (On God)\nValentines Day, she ripped the card and urinated on the rose petals (Damn)\nYou was my rock, heavy metal\nNow you ain't shit to me (Facts)\nI thought it was love, until I woke up\nAnd had an epiphany (21)\nKeep the fame and keep the love\nJust give me the loyalty (On God)\nNefertiti, King Tut\nI treat you like royalty (Fact)\nI just wish your love wouldn't fade away\nEven when the smoke clear, I'm here to stay\nDon't you ever let a nigga take my place\nWould you be around if I had minimum wage?\n\nI gave you my all (My all)\nYou was my dawg (You was my dawg)\nI would have went to war with the world on your call (On your call)\nThought you had my back (Nah)\nYou let me fall (Let me fall)\nYou healed my pain (My pain)\nThen you caused it (Then you caused it)\nNow I gotta ball without you (Straight up)\nNow I gotta ball (Straight up)\nNow I gotta ball without you (21)\nNow I gotta ball (21)\nNow I gotta ball without you (Ball)\nNow I gotta ball (Now I gotta ball)\nNow I gotta ball without you (21)\nNow I gotta ball (21, 21)"}
{"text":"Yeah\nVVS look like a star, yeah\nI took the top off the car\nWe don't abide by the law (No)\nYou don\u2019t know what I done saw (Saw)\nCan't leave without it (I can't leave without it)\nI keep a stick for the war (Stick)\nChecks I deposit (Checks I deposit)\nMoney just stick with the boy\n\nLot of model bitches check for me\nNigga, don\u2019t check for me 'less you got checks for me\nI kept a stick like a hobo, no checkin' me\nWay back when D-Lo had the spot in Trestletree\nSo many hoes, had to get a vasectomy\nShe left her body home and brought her neck to me\nI did a walk-through, they sent a jet to me\nY'all niggas show price less than my travel fee\nOne of my arms worth a ticket\nWatch so much that a car came with it\nBack in the day I used to rob with no mask on\nShit on my wrist, I woulda killed the whole house for\nAnd I went to school high, I ain't go to class though\nI was with the OGs learnin' 'bout the glass bowl\nCaught me with a deuce five, mama kicked my ass, bro\nBreak yourself, leave his brains on the dashboard\nI'm with Ced and Lil Baby (Yeah)\nWe got four choppers that\u2019s full (21)\nWay before rappin\u2019, on God, I was trappin', sneakin\u2019 my Glock in Lacura (On God)\nI got my K from Osama Bin Laden, lil' nigga, he signed this shit (Straight up)\nI'm 4L gang, if you reach for my chain, then a nigga gon' die in this bitch (On God)\nA-B-C-D-E-F-G Wagon, y\u2019all niggas doin' that big cappin' (21)\nI ain't with the friendly shit\nClosest thing y'all gettin' to a handshake is the beat clappin' (21)\nYour mama gon' have to make a GoFundMe, y'all niggas keep doing that sneak jabbin' (Straight up)\nGucci had to kill the whole woods\nJust to make Young Savage this motherfuckin' mink jacket (21)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nVVS look like a star, yeah\nI took the top off the car\nWe don't abide by the law (No)\nYou don't know what I just saw (Saw)\nCan't leave without it (I can't leave without it)\nI keep a stick for the war (Stick)\nChecks I deposit (Checks I deposit)\nMoney just stick with the boy\n\nCash in and cash out (Cash in and cash out)\nI am not lookin' for clout (Nah)\nI knew I would figure it out (I knew)\nI took the millionaire route (Run it up)\nPopped a pill got my head in the cloud (Huh)\nSay my name, it'll bring out a crowd (Crowd)\nWe got paid, now my family proud (On God)\nI been drippin' this drip since a child\n\nI hit your bitch, she a jump off\nCartier bracelets for her, they don't come off\nThey get the swag from Atlanta and run off\nI make the boys swing the stick like a tomahawk\nRunnin' this shit, what the fuck is they talkin' 'bout?\nSkinny jeans stuffed with them hundreds, they poke out\nS65, I'm in a robot\nI'm a real one, ain't running from nobody\nHellcat fast, you know that I show out\nAin't sparin' no bitch, give a fuck 'bout a blowout\nIf we wanna smoke with you, boy, you can't go out\nStill gettin' money my label don't know 'bout\nCourt-side with the vibe with her toes out\nRich nigga, I come straight out the poor house\nTrap goin' crazy right there by Morehouse\nDead end, me, Ced and more ahks\nBought a Benz, doubled back, bought a trap house\nI'm with Savage in the 6 doin' donuts (Skrrt)\nYoungins with me, they got fire, they gon' go nuts\nQuarter-million in a baby blue Goyard\nBuy it cash then I go in the motor\nDrive fast, ain't no pullin' me over\nPlay with bags, you can tell by the odor\nNo alcohol, go get me a new soda\nVVS look like a star, yeah\nI took the top off the car\nWe don't abide by the law (No)\nYou don't know what I just saw (Saw)\nCan't leave without it (I can't leave without it)\nI keep a stick for the war (Stick)\nChecks I deposit (Checks I deposit)\nMoney just stick with the boy\n\nYeah, niggas tryna drip like the boy, yeah\nI don't gotta get no award, yeah\nLive in the bank, don't do fraud, yeah\nI been fuckin' superstars, yeah\nHer pussy good, buy her a car yeah\nYou niggas ain't makin' no noise, yeah\nYou niggas ain't makin' no noise (On God)"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsRed Opps Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nI pull up roll the window down and (Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop)\nI pull up roll the window down and (Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop)\nI pull up roll the window down and (Pew, pew, pew)\n\nI just bought a pistol it got .30 rounds in it (Pew, pew, pew)\nPull up at your momma house and put some rounds in it (Fah, fah, fah, fah, fah)\nWet a nigga block and watch them niggas drown in it (Skrrt)\nHunnid round drum, gun a nigga down with it (21)\nI'm on that Slaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nSlaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nI'm on that Slaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nSlaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\n\nI'm on that Slaughter Gang shit, take a nigga bitch\nNigga, you's a bitch, 'cause I ran off with your shit (21)\nI'm a real right Blood and these niggas counterfeit\nYou don't pull up on the Ave, pussy-boy, you get dipped\nI bought a brand new drop and then I poured me up some drop\nYoung Savage real street nigga, y'all ain't on no block\nBitch, keep your legs closed 'cause all I want is top\nI pull up and, pew, pew, pew, pew, y'all gon' call the cops (21)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI just bought a pistol it got .30 rounds in it (Pew, pew, pew)\nPull up at your momma house and put some rounds in it (Fah, fah, fah, fah, fah)\nWet a nigga block and watch them niggas drown in it (Skrrt)\nHunnid round drum, gun a nigga down with it (21)\nI'm on that Slaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nSlaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nI'm on that Slaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nSlaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\n\nTwo guns up, I don't give a fuck\nI'm a big dog, lil' nigga, you a pup'\nPull up at your spot, walk up on it, shoot it up\nYour bitch, she on the molly, yeah, I got her booted up (Gang)\nYou said you was trappin' but I heard thats a lie (Bitch)\nBaking soda, cold water, cut the stove on, scrape the side (Bitch)\nYou can keep the skinny bitch 'cause I like a fat ass and thighs (21)\nBitch, I'm Young Savage, your baby daddy know not to try (21)\n\nI just bought a pistol it got .30 rounds in it (Pew, pew, pew)\nPull up at your momma house and put some rounds in it (Fah, fah, fah, fah, fah)\nWet a nigga block and watch them niggas drown in it (Skrrt)\nHunnid round drum, gun a nigga down with it (21)\nI'm on that Slaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nSlaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nI'm on that Slaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nSlaughter Gang shit (Shit), Murder Gang shit (Shit)\nSlaughter Gang shit, Murder Gang shit\nSlaughter Gang shit, Murder Gang shit\nSlaughter Gang shit, Murder Gang shit\nSlaughter Gang shit, Murder Gang shit"}
{"text":"Power\nThe money and the fame make a monster\nA monster\nPower\nThe money and the fame make a monster\nA monster\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh\nYeah, yeah, yeah, oh\n\nFeelin' so good, might smoke somethin' (Ayy)\nHit it so good, might choke somethin' (Ayy)\nMight pull out, the game so weak\nFuck it, you can go and have both of 'em\nZone 6 nigga, I come from\nNeighborhood soundin' like, \"Pop, pop\" (Pop, pop)\nPick 'em up, roll 'em out\nAll of that drip drip there got young boy drop drop (Drop drop)\nAyy ayy (Ayy ayy), oh (Oh)\nWhere that money go? (Go)\nI was livin' fast (Fast)\nThey gon' watch 'em slow ('Em slow)\nAll these niggas got six figures, they won't miss an O (O)\nI'm gon' shoot they baby mama if I got the pole, oh, ayy (Ayy)\nBodyguards goin' through customs (Customs)\nBoth of them boys got handguns\n'Cause most of your friends, can't trust 'em\nClout chasin' (Clout chasin')\nLet me truth on the verse (Yeah)\nIf they paid you to do it, you don't gotta ask what you worth\nMe and Savage, we came from the dirt\nIf you rappin' for money, you silly\nThis shit ain't a milli', this shit is a hundred\nThe industry savage and most of you average\nAin't 'fraid of no static, I'm bustin', I'm bustin'\nHe might be an addict, he drinkin' that 'Tussin\nHe know where you live, where you work, do you trust him? (Nope)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nPower\nThe money and the fame make a monster\nA monster\nPower\nThe money and the fame make a monster\nA monster (Low blow)\n\nShe below the belt, that's a low blow (Low blow)\nShe gon' try and blame it on YOLO (YOLO)\nNiggas out here tryna rap beef (Rap beef)\nI ain't givin' no free promo (No no)\nHe cuffin', he a cop like Robo (Robo)\nI'ma pass her to the gang like Romo (Romo)\nBrand new 'Rari, I'm solo (Solo)\nFinna go shoppin' in SoHo (21)\nYou could dump me in the middle of the ocean\nI'm still comin' out dry (Dry)\nYou can leave me in the jungle with bears and tigers\nI'm comin' out fly (Fly)\nI'll take the stand for my brother\nPut my hand on the Bible, I'm still gon' lie (On God)\nYou can have all the fame in the world\nAll the money in the world, won't stop no cry (Straight up)\nPain and the hunger made a savage (Savage)\nCame from the bottom, disadvantaged ('Vantaged)\nThen I started livin' my dreams (My dreams)\nThat shit turned me to an addict (An addict)\nIt ain't 'bout the money, you can have it (You can have it)\nShawty got a booty, I'ma grab it (I'ma grab it)\nIn the fast lane, tryna dodge traffic (Skrrt skrrt)\nBut I ain't never dodged no static (On God)\nWar wounds, I got scars (21)\nTeachers told me I wouldn't be nothin' but I went far (21)\nI could pay your salary for ten years with one car (21)\nAll the pain and all the struggle made a superstar (21, 21, 21)\nPower\nThe money and the fame make a monster\nA monster\nPower\nThe money and the fame make a monster\nA monster"}
{"text":"21\nI feel like the motherfuckin' Grim Reaper\nThe biggest smoke blower\nPut a motherfuckin' chimney on my stick\n\nBrand new MAK-90 with the drum attached (Drum)\nYou a shit talker, we got drums for that (On God)\nTryna fist fight? Boy, you dumb for that (Stupid)\nYou gon' get a bullet in your lung for that (Stupid)\nDraco get to kickin' like Liu Kang (21)\nF&N on me in the Mulsanne (Straight up, straight up)\nGlock 19 in the Blue Flame (Straight up, straight up)\nI was strapped when I slid inside your boo thang (On God)\n21 immortal, we'll never die (21)\nLoyal to my brothers (Yeah), I'll never lie (On God)\nCall me bird dog 'cause I cheat and I'm fly (Straight up)\nAnd I love winnin', I'm upset if it's a tie (On God)\nGet you off the ground just to knock you to the floor (Yeah)\nLet's go blow for blow (Yeah), let's go toe to toe (Straight up)\nWhen it's time to battle, they don't never ever show (21)\nWhen it's time to battle, I'm the first one at the door (21)\nAt the door with a Draco\nDon't nobody move, I don't wanna have to blow\nRappin' ass niggas get spinned at they show\nThat's why I need some help, I got a fetish for the smoke\nIt get fatal in the bottom, used to rumble in the den (21)\nHit him with a combo, gotta finish him (21)\nAK make you frown since you think you wanna grin (Straight up)\nSeems like all the models just be fallin' in my DMs (Yeah)\nCoolant on the TEC, it get hot like Scorpion (Hot)\nI'll burn his ass, lil' buster\nYou thought it was straight, I got some chemicals in this magazine\nI'll perm his ass (Mark ass nigga)\nWanna be a gangster, but he misguided (Bitch)\nI'll learn his ass (On God, nigga)\nHe went against me and they called 9-1-1 (21)\nThey had to infirm' his ass (You gon' be next, nigga)\n\"How many tops you done got popped?\" Whole bunch\n\"How many times you ran from the smoke?\" Nigga, not once\nEastside nigga fuckin' all the hoes, and I love guns\nAin't no fucking diamonds in my mouth, nigga, these gold fronts\nAnd we known to handle all the business, nigga, ASAP\nHad her at the slaughterhouse, how the fuck you cape that?\nAin't no body shots, nigga, you know I told him face that\nNow he in the ocean, heard they hit him in his wave cap\nYou took your shot and you missed it (21)\nI just beat it up and you kissed it (Ugh)\nTook the rap game and I milked it (Yeah)\nTook the rap beef and I killed it\nNeck all froze like Sub Zero, dawg (Straight up)\nHe wifed a thot, he a hero, dawg (Straight up)\nAll I care about is my dinero, dawg (On God)\nOnly thing I'm chasing is dineros, dawg (Straight up)\nDread-headed killer like Cyrax (21)\nBrought a gun to a fist fight like Jax (Pew-pew-pew-pew-pew)\nNah, fuck that, only thing scare me is a rat (Snitch)\nSlaughter Gang, pick your poison, dagger or the axe (Straight up)\nStand-up guy, they respect my mind (On God)\nIf you foul out, get a tech', my nine (Straight up)\nIf you ain't a hundred, don't text my line (Lil' bitch)\nIf you know you hatin', don't check my Live (Snitch)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nYou know I'm Slaughter Gang so the smoke is immortal\nAin't nothin' changed, I'll slaughter your daughter\nShe said she was a dime, but her friend was a quarter\nI had a threesome, then I flushed the rubber down the toilet\nShe tried to give me head, it was boring\nCodeine got a nigga snoring\nI wonder if she would've slept with the poor me\nSavage keep a Draco and it corn beef\n\nChopper cut you up like Kitana (Ching-ching)\nMy chopper in the band, it's a drummer (Drumroll)\nRussell Westbrook, I was strikin' like the Thunder (Woah, woah)\nYou was somewhere runnin' 'round whinin' to your mama (21)\nY'all play conservative, we gon' send a blitz (Straight up)\nI'm the type to catch a tech', foul, hit him in his shit (On God)\nHe think he a made man, hit him in the head (Pussy)\nDon't you try to run now, hit him in the leg (Rraow)\nPeople wanna say the stuff I say, but they be scared (Pussy)\nJab turn a lightskin pretty boy red (21)\nIt's a fatality if you try to handle me (Yeah)\nReal top shotta, don't you ever try to ramp with me (On God)\nGot enough bullets that could kill your whole camp with me (Rrah)\nI was bad as hell in school, they even tried to counsel me (21)\nI don't like to talk, don't you try to tongue-wrestle me (On God)\nAnd my block good, you'll never get the best of me (Straight up)\nYou know I'm Slaughter Gang so the smoke is immortal\nAin't nothin' changed, I'll slaughter your daughter\nShe said she was a dime, but her friend was a quarter\nI had a threesome, then I flushed the rubber down the toilet\nShe tried to give me head, it was boring\nCodeine got a nigga snoring\nI wonder if she would've slept with the poor me\nSavage keep a Draco and it corn beef"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1ol\u200ball my friends Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\n\nI lost all my friends countin' bands in the Bentley coupe\nDiamonds on me doin' handstands, Ros\u00e9 on my tooth\nIf she wanna dance, let her dance for the money, ooh\nI don't need no friends if you really wanna know the truth\nI lost all my friends countin' bands in the Bentley coupe\nDiamonds on me doin' handstands, Ros\u00e9 on my tooth\nIf she wanna dance, let her dance for the money, ooh\nI don't need no friends if you really wanna know the truth\n\nLost a few friends chasin' hand money (On God)\nHad the same friends when I was bummy (Straight up)\nThey should've went and did stand-up\n'Cause when the money come, niggas act funny (True)\nCrocodile wristband, 21 Dundee\nYo' bitch skate so fast to the dick\nThat she'd even go and get a job at Sonic (On God)\nMade it from the bottom, I'm a star (21)\nPlayin' with the stick like a guitar (21)\nWhy you got a 12 car garage? (Why?)\n'Cause I bought six new cars (No lie)\nI remember times was dark (I do)\nNow I'm backstage with a bar (Big dog)\nCouldn't pay the light bill, it was dark (Yeah)\nNow I can shine in the dark (On God)\nLost a couple friends, I ain't even really mad though (On God)\nI ain't even really mad though (21)\nHard to tell the real from fake\n'Cause nowadays, they got masks on\nWho gon' be around when the fame and the cash gone?\nI lost all my friends countin' bands in a Lambo truck\nVVSs on me, fightin' icy like a hockey puck\nIf she wanna dance, let her dance, watch her pick it up\nI don't need no friends, what's a friend if it ain't no trust?\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI lost all my friends countin' bands in the Bentley coupe\nDiamonds on me doin' handstands, Ros\u00e9 on my tooth\nIf she wanna dance, let her dance for the money, ooh\nI don't need no friends if you really wanna know the truth\n\nI lost all my friends countin' bands and I copped a Benz\nPulled up with no army, just the guap and I'm spendin' it\nNo, no, never lendin' it, that's all for me\nI stay greedy with the dollar, givin' no 'pologies\nAll these mans with they fuckin' hands out, tryna spare some\nI don't never stress, no, I got plenty peso\nI been all alone, on my own in my new mansion\nEverybody says I went ghost, jump in my Phantom\nPaparazzi always tryna press up on me\nEver since I blew up, I don't know nobody (Know nobody)\nYeah, I blew 80 bands only for you to leave\nHey, I know somewhere that my mama prayin' for me (For me)\n\nI lost all my friends countin' bands in the Bentley coupe (For me)\nDiamonds on me doin' handstands, Ros\u00e9 on my tooth (For me)\nIf she wanna dance, let her dance for the money, ooh\nI don't need no friends if you really wanna know the truth\nI lost all my friends countin' bands in the Bentley coupe\nDiamonds on me doin' handstands, Ros\u00e9 on my tooth\nIf she wanna dance, let her dance for the money, ooh\nI don't need no friends if you really wanna know the truth\nI lost all my, I lost all my\n(Really wanna know the truth)\nHey"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsNumb Lyrics\nGrind hard, nigga, grind hard, I done grind hard\nLate nights playin' b-ball with a decoy\nI was on the corner with the robbers and the d-boys\nNow I'm on the charts, man, this shit is unbelievable\nMama, it's a lot of secrets that I had to keep from you\nGot in so much trouble, thought the teachers had beef with you\nAnd it paid off 'cause we livin' like the Greeks and Jews\nUsed to leave your stove runnin', stove runnin' (21, 21)\nNow it's Louis rags when my nose runnin'\nGot it out the mud, I don't owe nothin'\nYou pussy ass niggas, I ain\u2019t on nothin'\nWanna see me fucked up 'cause they poor hustlin'\nThe same niggas with me back when I was head itchin'\nMan I'm having nightmares that the feds listenin'\nYou fake gangstas pump fakin' and they scared snitchin'\nThe coupe fast and it's fucking up the dash digits\n\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nIt's a bag on his head, I'ma pick it up\nIt was money in the house, I used to stick it up\nGot your main bitch chillin', splashin', tryna lick it up\nDick ridin', niggas always tryna flick it up\nI ain't tryna take no pictures, bitch I'm rollin' Swishers\nI count my back end then I jump out with that pistol\nIf you ain't suckin' dick you get a early dismissal\nWe got your wifey at the spot, she tryna lick a pickle\nI just went and bought a Lamb and it cost a nickel\nAnd I came from the bottom and it feel good\nAnd I went platinum, still in the hood\nAnd I take the gang with me everywhere I go\nWhy these niggas hatin' on me? Man I don't know\nAin't a place in the world that I can't go\nAnd I got a hundred racks inside a Go-Go\nAnd I get a hundred racks for a show, show\nWanna give a bitch my heart but I can't though\nI can't fall in love with a stank ho\nLil' bitch I fell in love with the bank ho\nAnd you know I love that good drank, ho\n\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the\nNumb the pain with the money and I ride 'round with that Tommy\nAnd I put it in her stomach and I made that lil' bitch ride me\nYou're my old school runner, you're my old school runner\nBut my new school runnin', it costs more than a hundred\nYou lil' niggas so bummy (21)\nMake a diss song, they gon' wrap you like a mummy\nMy young niggas geekin' on boot like zombies\nThey hungry, up it on you then they tell you, \"Run it\"\nI stole cars, drove them like go-karts (facts)\nNiggas actin' like bitches, they got both parts (cat)\nAnd I came from the gutter, I don't got no heart\nAnd I'm straight up out the gutter, I don't got no heart\nNigga when they killed my brother, I had to go hard\nPut that chopper in his face and then I Bogart\nNiggas tryna cross me, I don't understand it\nI'm just tryna take care of the family\nAnd I'm sippin' Codeine, not Brandy (21)\nAnd I'm sippin' Codeine, I'm an addict\nYou go to jail, can't depend on a bad bitch\nShe fucked and sucked him tryna keep up with the fashion\nAnd I'm really, really rich and I ain't braggin'\nSometimes I really can't believe this shit happened\nWho woulda thought I'd make it rappin'?\nI almost lost my life when I was trappin'\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the money\nNumb the pain with the money, numb the pain with the\n\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u200basmr Lyrics\nY'all know what's goin' on\n21 Gang 'til I'm gone\n4L Gang 'til I'm gone\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon'\u2014\n\nRoll the window down, stick the Glock out (Stick the Glock out)\nThis chopper got a AMP, I'ma rock out (I'ma rock out)\nWhen it's time for smoke, they gon' cop out (They gon' cop out)\nThis AK47 made in Moscow (Made in Moscow)\nAll these dead bodies got me seein' strange things (Straight up)\nBoth sides of the gun, I done dealt and felt the pain (On God)\nDrive-by? Nah, we the walk-up gang (21)\nI come from the 6 where they chalk up lames (On God)\nSlide in and out (Out)\nSpend the night? I doubt (Doubt)\nGold grill mouth (Mouth)\nI come from the South (South)\nWe was stealin' cars\nYou was inside the house (Pussy)\nI know he gon' be a rat one day\nRight now we call him a mouse (21)\n\nI got lots of stripes, all my niggas shyst\nYou can roll the dice, you might lose your life\nKeep my Desert Eagle on me, he not nothin' nice\nI just need one Glock, Nas need one mic (Lil' bitch)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI done did a lot in the streets and them facts (21)\nPTSD like I came from Iraq (On God)\nYou made it from the gutter, then I'm tippin' my hat (I am)\nDon't go big on me, you might get hit with this MAC (Brrah)\nI don't need no holster, you get burned like toaster (21)\nI don't drink no liquor, but I'm smokin' on mimosa (Yeah)\nWe been gettin' that Jewish money, everything is Kosher (On God)\nBought myself a 'Ventador and bought my bitch a Roadster (Straight up)\nDrive my Lambo to the store, I'ma wave with my doors\nI'm on Glenwood, not the Ave., nigga, the road (21)\nTalkin' on the pillow, nigga, that shit for the hoes (Straight up)\nI'd never snitch on my enemies or my bros (Never)\nI'm so 21, dawg, I'm so SG (Yeah)\nI'm so 4L Gang, I keep a Glock, not an XD (21)\nHead so good, she not even white, I still call her Becky (Yeah, yeah)\nRichard Mille cost so much I could push a button and see next week (Straight up)\n.30 on the glizzy, got my pants dizzy (Pants dizzy)\nPlayin' 'round with Savage, you get shot in the kidney (Shot in the kidney)\nSo many drums, he gon' think a band hit him (Ha)\nChopper clapped his ass, he thought a hand hit him (Ha)\nI do the BlocBoy JB on a brick (Skrrt, skrrt)\nMake your crew do the Electric Slide with this stick (Straight up)\nShe don't get no new Chanel, she gon' throw a fit (Straight up)\nI wanna buy that girl the world, the way she suck this dick (Yeah)\nFronted me some bags, I ran out the same night (Damn)\nWhen I was in jail, on my momma, I ain't kite (Damn)\nNiggas know I'm solid, I shoot and I fight (Straight up)\nYou just wear Adidas, but in real life, I got stripes (21)\nI got lots of stripes, all my niggas shiest'\nYou can roll the dice, you might lose your life\nKeep my Desert Eagle on me, he not nothin' nice\nI just need one Glock, Nas need one mic\n\nMy brother down the road, they tried to give him life\nHe swear he so creative, turned a toothbrush to a knife\nSavage got your wifey playin' with herself on Skype\nShe thought the AC was on, it was just my ice\nWe pull up ready to shoot (Brrrah)\nY'all ready to fight (Stupid)\nPull up, ready to kill (Yeah)\nY'all ready to die (Straight up)\nBroke-ass nigga get killed ridin' a bike (Pussy)\nSavage left his gun at home, nigga, yeah, right (Ha)"}
{"text":"Solid nigga, real street nigga\nA hundred percent, a hundred and ten percent\nAin't no cut on this shit, nigga\nThis shit blue magic, nigga, like Frank Lucas, nigga, on God\n\nFour trap spots at the bottom of the hill (Straight up)\nTryna diss Savage, that'll prolly get you killed (On god)\nI'll get my shooter smoked, I think he finna spill (Swear)\nThe beans, I got X, dawg, 75 cents a pill (21)\nTez took a 15, finna come back on appeal (Free Tez)\nPop took 19 'fore he was 19, made me shed a tear (Free Pop)\nBlew up on my own, no cosigns I was stiff (On God)\nI swear I went like six times platinum 'fore I signed my deal (Straight up)\nWe used to cut MAK-90s 'fore they made them Dracs (On my mama)\nI'm so Slaughter Gang, I'ma nut on her face (21)\nCaptain Save-A-Ho, you might get shot in your cape (On God)\nNiggas drop a mixtape, then they tattoo they face (Lil' pussy)\nNiggas drop an album, then pretend to be gangsta (Lil' bitch)\nImaginary hood, you gon' make it up, ain't you?\nHe done made up dead homies, man this nigga a prankster\nI got niggas down the road for a flock, they'll shank you (On God)\nGive me head in a brand new car (Yeah)\nHit her from the back, need Geico (21)\nShe got fat 'cause a nigga made her stay in the house so I got the bitch lipo (Straight up)\nRidin' 'round town with a Glock, but if it's a hit I'ma use my rifle (On God)\nYou can ask all the opps, niggas know 4L gang go psycho (I swear)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nCap-ass, rap-ass, battery-in-the-back-ass\nYou know you ain't built like that, play and get your ass smashed\nAll black ski mask, pull up on your street fast\nBodybag a nigga ass, throw his body in the trash\nI'm a young trap ass, strapped-ass, no time for the yap ass\nGet a nigga clapped ass, Zone 6, ride around with it in my lap ass\nLeave your man's brain in your motherfuckin' lap ass nigga\n\nBow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow-bow\nBrrr-bow-bow-bow-bow\nI wanted to come in, know what I'm talkin' about\nCuz just talked that shit\nThat big Zone 6 shit for y'all niggas ass\n(Stop all that cap-ass shit)\n\nI'm a Zone 6-er, Mr. Remixer\nMr. Fuck-Her-Then-I-Hit-Her-Pass-Her-To-My-Nig-ger\nOnly thing I smoke on is a big Swisher\nAnd I don't sip liquor, I sip lean, yes, sir\nPull up on the curb, hop out serve a nigga bird (Serve a bird)\nWho run the block? Slimeball, that's the word (Slime)\nGet a nigga topped, off top, non-stop, on my block\nI got shooters totin' their Glock, it's a 30 in his Glock (Yeah that 30)\nNiggas ain't rockin' how we rockin', we rock-solid (4L)\nAnd I keep them blues in my pocket, ten thousand (Uh huh)\nFive on your head, nigga, get your head chopped (Do that)\nRide through my hood and I got the top chopped (What?)\nOff, when I ride off (What?)\nSmoke gas, cough (Dude)\nBitch give me mouth (Uh-huh)\nBig dawg, boss (Big dawg)\nY'all know what it cost (You know)\nJust to be a boss (Be a boss)\nWell, you gotta wipe some niggas off\nYou gotta run off on the plug\nYou gotta shoot at some niggas\nLet 'em know you don't give no fucks\nIf you really 'bout that life, then, nigga, show 'em you 'bout your business\nDon't be schemin' on a hunnid, nigga, run up you a million\nCap-ass, rap-ass, battery-in-the-back-ass\nYou know you ain't built like that, play and get your ass smashed\nAll black ski mask, pull up on your street fast\nBodybag a nigga ass, throw his body in the trash\nI'm a young trap ass, strapped-ass, no time for the yap ass\nGet a nigga clapped ass, Zone 6, ride around with it in my lap ass\nLeave your man's brain in your motherfuckin' lap ass nigga (21, 21)\n\nI was little, now I'm bigger (Now I'm bigger)\nI was broke, now I'm worth eight figures (Eight figures)\nIt's either you against us or you with us (Lil' bitch)\nMalcolm might get killed in the middle (On God)\nMini-14, I was 17 first time I shot it\nNigga, I was on Glenfair (On my mama, dawg)\nWent hollow, Collier Ridge to VC\nRobbin', landin', all the way to Line Street, they don't play fair (21, 21)\nIf you make your bed, you gon' lay there (You gon' lay there)\nMade a hunnid on Austin off my cell, yeah (Off my cell, yeah)\nIt was a trap spot and I used to stay there (On God)\nOn my dead brother, I kept a K there (Straight up)\nTryna spend the night, you must be fuckin' or somethin' (Lil' bitch)\nI want you to suck me like you suckin' your thumb (21)\nSavage rich as fuck, but I save money like a bum (On God)\nMade it to the top, but I give back to the slum (Straight up)\nCap-ass, rap-ass, battery-in-the-back-ass\nYou know you ain't built like that, play and get your ass smashed\nAll black ski mask, pull up on your street fast\nBodybag a nigga ass, throw his body in the trash\nI'm a young trap ass, strapped-ass, no time for the yap ass\nGet a nigga clapped ass, Zone 6, ride around with it in my lap ass\nLeave your man's brain in your motherfuckin' lap ass nigga (21, 21)"}
{"text":"Issa Kylie, might be Jenner, hol' up\nLet's fight about it, hol' up, she leave wit' the winner, hol' up\nBricks, this shit finna kill these niggas\nN-n-n-n-narcos\nWheezy Beatz\n\nIssa, issa, issa\nIssa\nIssa, issa, issa\nIssa\n\nIssa knife, dawg (Issa knife) I got stripes, dawg\nWhat's in that Wraith, Savage? It's some white, dawg\nIt's some nose-wipe (Wipe), that's a slime (Slime)\nChopper singin' (Singin'), Ginuwine (Brrrrr)\nI'm on Air One (Damn), issa nine (Nine)\nOn Gresham road (Gresham), all the time (Everytime)\nI be cheatin' (Nah), she be cryin' (Cry)\nShe tell the truth, I be lyin' (I be lyin')\nIssa paintin' (Bitch, that's art), half a ticket (Half a ticket)\nIssa Kylie (Boss), might be Jenner, hol' up (Hol' up)\nIssa jet (Phew), issa check (Check)\nIssa savage (Issa savage), now she wet (Now she wet)\nIssa Pyrex (Woo), I got crack (I got crinack)\nGot a coolin' system, issa Tec (Thu thu thu thu thu)\nIf your bitch spend the night, issa sex (Slime)\nIf your watch ain't cost a hundred, it ain't shit (It ain't shit, slime)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nIssa X (Lil' nigga), it's respect\nIf she don't check 'em (What she gon' do?), issa next (Next)\nIssa slice (Slice), yes or not (Yes or no?)\nOnly one body (Only one body), issa squash (Hah)\nI'm out the gutter, dawg, nigga, I'm real raw\nNigga I got real hitters (I got real hitters)\nIssa gravedigger (Graves)\nNigga, I'm real raw (Real raw)\nIssa babysitter (Ya dig?)\nOh, that's a real kiddie? (Real child?)\nNigga, that's a real stripper (Fool)\nI see whiskers (Cat), he scared, issa pig (Issa pig)\nCould've been had 'em, talk to Rika instead (yeah, yeah)\nTremendous pool, issa livin' room\nWe tigers in the streets, bitch, tycoon (Woop)\nNigga, issa Patek, nigga, issa necklace (Patek)\nNigga, issa knife, came for a slice (Came for a what?)\nBetter get right (Fool), nigga get diced (Slime god)\nNever tell the truth, issa lie (On God)\n\nIssa 21 (Young savage), issa Jeff (Issa Jeffery)\nIssa profit, dawg (Big racks), issa net (Got it on score)\nI watched you go sell four million, issa stretch (Issa, issa)\nYou gave somethin' to the cops, issa sketch (Issa picture)\nIssa drawin' (It's Picasso), issa foreign (Foreign, skrrrrt)\nThis look fun (this looks fun), that looks borin' (That looks dumb)\nGirl, stop textin' me so much, issa 'nnoying (Bitch, stop texting me)\nIssa bloody LaFerrari, issa fortune (Skrrt skrrrrrt)\nIssa duffle bag (Duffle), issa Goyard (Goyard)\nThat's a pump fake (Oops), this a whole car (Whole car)\nIssa VVS (VVS), and it's swimmin' (Swimmin')\nI'm a gang banger (Gang), I'm lieutenant\nIssa Thugger, issa lieutenant\nBoy with all the fuckery, issa menace\nTell me your target, tell me your bargain\nPlease don't scream, it's an arson\nIssa Rolls Royce (Skrrt, skrrt) and it's tinted (Skrrt, skrrt)\nSpent your bank account (On God) at the dentist\nIssa a Bentley (Skrrt, skrrt), it ain't rented (Hell nah)\nIssa diss song, now they missin' (Tried to tell 'em)\nIssa brown bag, issa blue cash\nIssa coup that's fast, issa green Xan\nIssa moshpit, issa bandana\nIssa Taliban, Alexander McQueen\n\nIssa 40 (Forty, shorty), issa 30 (Thirty, thirty)\nIssa Dessy (Issa Dessy), y'all not ready (Y'all ain't ready)\nIssa nail polish (Issa nail polish), bitch, I'm petty (The most)\nIssa ton of these (Issa ton), Six God heavy (Six God heavy, ayy)\nIssa YSL (Slime), issa PDE (Slime)\nThat's my old ting (That's my old ting), issa TBT (Hah)\nIssa tax bracket (Tax bracket), issa Stoney jacket (Stoney jacket)\nWorld is mine now (World is miiiine), it's on Tony status (It's on Tony status)\nNigga, don't argue (Argue), nigga, you pardoned (Pardoned)\nNigga, gon' harm you (Harm you), nigga, we heartless (Heartless)\nAnd I got a 'Rari ('Rari), and I got a Harley (And I got a Harley)\nAnd I got Saint Laurent (I got Saint Laurent) on my garments (On my garments)\nIssa 21, issa rat, issa pump, issa killer\nIssa pistol, iss' dismissal, issa kiss, if we catch her, yes, we kissed her\nIss' dismissal, iss' dismiss you, issa pistol, issa spillin'\nIssa spillin', issa I'm bigger, issa (Woah)\nIssum killers, issum hitters, issa hit 'em with some missiles\nIssa (Shit), issa (Gotta hit 'em), issa fuck it, issa fuck 'em\nIssa fuck 'em, issa bust 'em, issa truck 'em, issa fuck 'em\nIssa buck 'em, issa just don't cuff 'em, 21\n\nIssa, issa, issa, issa, issa\nIssa, issa... Issa\nIssa, issa, issa... Issa\nIssa, issa, issa... Issa\n\nIssa... slight problem, niggas poppin' like some popcorn, nigga\nHit your bitch with my socks on, nigga (Now they turnt)\nIssa, issa, issa knife, lil' nigga\nKnow some hitters out the 9th, lil' nigga"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsDip Dip Lyrics\nMurder Gang shit\nYou ain't Slaughter Gang, you don't speak my language\nNiggas really lame, boy, they lamer than a bitch\nEat you pussy-niggas, like a fucking sandwich\nMaison Margiela cost a grip, grip, grip\nBitches say they love the way I drip, drip, drip\nI eat that pussy up and then I lick, lick, lick\nWet a nigga block and then I dip, dip, dip\n\nYoung Savage pull up on your fucking on your mother (Your mother)\nYoung Savage, bitch, I'm hanging with my brothers (Brother)\nSlaughter Gang savages, yeah, them my brothers (Yeah, them my brother)\nSlaughter Gang got choppers, like under covers (Pew, pew, pew)\nHit that bitch with a rubber (Yeah)\nFuck her on the dresser, boy, I fuck her on the covers (Yeah, yeah)\nI keep a lethal weapon, like my name Danny Glover (Yeah)\nI'm just here to fuck, yeah, baby, I ain't here to love, yeah (21)\nSend you to your nigga 'cause I heard he a sucker (Sucker)\nIf he run up on me like a swisher, I'ma a bust 'em (Buuh)\nPop, pop, pop, pop, nigga get to duckin' (Duckin')\nI'm a ladies man, bitches call me MC lovin' (Yeah)\n\nMurder Gang shit\nYou ain't Slaughter Gang, you don't speak my language\nNiggas really lame, boy they lamer than a bitch\nEat you pussy-niggas like a fucking sandwich\nMaison Margiela cost a grip, grip, grip\nBitches say they love the way I drip, drip, drip\nI eat that pussy up and then I lick, lick, lick\nWet a nigga block and then I dip, dip, dip\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, scrape the motherfuckin' bowl up\nYoung Savage, bitch, I'm in the kitchen cooking cola\nReal street nigga, man, I love that baking soda\nBitch, get on my nerves\nI pour a motherfuckin' four up (Mud, mud)\nTold that nigga get his funds up (Yeah)\nRep that Sex Money, so you know I got my guns up\nWord on the street, Savage fucked your baby mamma (I did) Jamaican Don Dada, I murder for fun, yeah\nI bought that bitch a Benz 'cause she use to drive a Honda (Wuu, wuu)\nYou been skripping all your life and you still stay with your mamma (Broke-ass bitch)\n\nMurder Gang shit\nYou ain't Slaughter Gang, you don't speak my language\nNiggas really lame, boy they lamer than a bitch\nEat you pussy-niggas like a fucking sandwich\nMaison Margiela cost a grip, grip, grip\nBitches say they love the way I drip, drip, drip\nI eat that pussy up and then I lick, lick, lick\nWet a nigga block and then I dip, dip, dip"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisNothin New Lyrics\nDamn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn, damn\nDamn, damn, damn, damn\n21, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nZaytoven\nYeah, yeah, yeah\nIf Young Metro don't trust you I'm gon' shoot you (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\n\nThey thought I only rapped about murder and pistols (21)\nI'm tryna feed my family, I ain't being political (Fuck)\nYou ain't givin' out money, then they look at you pitiful (On God)\nYou make a couple million, niggas greedy, they envy you (Damn)\nAyy, fuck that other side, we gon' shoot up your Sprinter (Fuck)\nI used to sell that crack and spray that MAC out that rental (Facts)\nNiggas run and hide when we roll down the window\nGot a extendo and a hoodie, he can't wait 'til December\nGot a extendo and a hoodie, he gon' shoot you on camera (21)\nLost his faith in Jesus Christ, he prayin' to a bandana\nPolice gunned his brother down, this shit too hard to handle (Fuck)\nLoadin' up his chopper (Loadin'), he gon' show 'em black lives matter (21, 21, 21)\n\nAnother nigga made the news, it ain't nothin' new (It ain't nothin' new)\nHe done dropped outta school, it ain't nothin' new (It ain't nothin' new)\nHe done got his first tool, it ain't nothin' new (It ain't nothin' new)\nMama on that dog food, it ain't nothin' new (It ain't nothin' new)\nHe smokin' weed and he changin', it ain't nothin' new (On God)\nAll his friends gang-bangin', it ain't nothin' new (On God)\nGot a pocket full of hundreds and they all blue (They all blue)\nAnother nigga from the hood tryna ball, too (Ball for real)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nShit gettin' outrageous (On God)\nTreat us like slaves then they lock us up in cages (21)\nYoung, black, poor, ain't had a father since a baby\nWhy you think we skip school and hang out on the pavement? (Why?)\nWhy you think we ridin' 'round with choppers off safety? (Why?)\nStreets cutthroat, nigga, so I'm cutthroat (Cutthroat)\nI used to sell dope, nigga, now I can't vote (Vote)\nPoppin' Percocets to kill the pain, I can't cope (God)\nAnger in my genes, they used to hang us up with ropes (21)\nCivil rights came so they flood the hood with coke (Real)\nBreakin' down my people, tryna kill our faith and hope (Hope)\nThey killed Martin Luther King and all he did was spoke (21)\nWelcome to the hood, yeah, where niggas dyin' at (Dyin')\nSame place where the best chicken gettin' fried at (Uh)\nSame place where the police killin', tellin' lies at (Uh)\nIt ain't just the babies, man, I swear their mamas cryin' now (21)\n\nAnother nigga made the news, it ain't nothin' new (It ain't nothin' new)\nHe done dropped outta school, it ain't nothin' new (It ain't nothin' new)\nHe done got his first tool, it ain't nothin' new (It ain't nothin' new)\nMama on that dog food, it ain't nothin' new (It ain't nothin' new)\nHe smokin' weed and he changin', it ain't nothin' new (On God)\nAll his friends gang bangin', it ain't nothin' new (On God)\nGot a pocket full of hundreds and they all blue (They all blue)\nAnother nigga from the hood tryna ball too (Ball for real)"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u200ba&t Lyrics\nGood job, 1st\n\n(Bounce that)\nAss and titties, ass and titties (Shake that)\nAss and titties, he throw money, twenties (Bounce that)\nAss and titties (Ayy), ass and titties (Shake that)\nAss and titties (Ayy), come get savage with me\n\n21\nIf you play the paint, I'ma go for the 3 (Straight Up)\nShe don't dribble balls, but she good with the D\nStay on Fashion Nova cuz' she get it for free\nShe at home, but her Instagram location the beach (She at home bro)\nAss phat, baby can I grab that? (God damn)\nBooty viral, that shit need a hashtag (Yes ma'am)\nShe walkin' into work like where the bags at? (21, 21)\nHit a couple models, but I love the ratchets\n\n(Bounce that)\nAss and titties, ass and titties (Shake that)\nAss and titties, he throw money, twenties (Bounce that)\nAss and titties (Ayy), ass and titties (Shake that)\nAss and titties (Ayy), come get savage with me\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nWhere my big dick diamond rocking foreign driving niggas at? (Where they at?)\nBig shit poppin', fuck that talkin', where them dollas at?\nIf you ain't breaking bread, please don't you touch a bitch\nBills (I got bills), I gotta pay (I gotta pay)\nIf you gon' handle it for me, then we can play (We can play)\nAll depending how you spend it, you can stay (You can stay)\nWhen it's bout that money youngin', don't discriminate (Haha)\nI don't wanna smoke yo' weed, I don't wanna meet yo' homie (Nah)\nWe ain't gotta let me lead if you find a nigga with it on him\nI'm 21 'bout it baby, I need that cash, you feel me?\nSo, if you ain't got that bag, don't grab my ass, you hear me?\n\n(Bounce that)\nAss and titties, ass and titties (Shake that)\nAss and titties, he throw money, twenties (Bounce that)\nAss and titties (Ayy), ass and titties (Shake that)\nAss and titties (Ayy), come get savage with me\n\nDrop it to the flo' after she wobble and twist (Straight up)\nI like em natural, I don't like plastic booties and lip (I don't)\nStruggling strippers always tryna sneak in the vip (21)\nYou ain't get no wristband, then you can't get no tip (Nope)\nGot a bitch a brand new G wagon and I snatched her stomach, she happy (She snatched)\nMade it out the bottom, I'm braggin' (Straight up)\nCame in the club with that fake ass jewelry on, threw a hundred dollars, he cappin' (Cappin')\nBefore I walk around trying to act like I'm something I ain't, I just quit rapping (On God)\nI had to start selling bundles of weave, you wouldn't even get her hair done (21)\nIf a nigga had a chance, he'd fuck my bitch, nigga that's why I don't even spare none (On God)\nI'm so 21, I'm so 4L, play with this shit, get redrummed (Straight up)\nBullets so big, I could be in Zone 6, fuck around and hit a nigga in Belgium (21)\nAss and titties, ass and titties (Shake that)\nAss and titties, he throw money, twenties (Bounce that)\nAss and titties, ass and titties (Shake that)\nAss and titties, come get savage with me\n\nAss and titties, hunnids and fifties (21)\nYeah, I got a girl, don't leave no hickies (On God)\nSt. Laurent panties she don't wear Vicky (Straight Up)\nI'm her sugar son, her sugar daddy was 50\nBounce that\nShake that, ayy\nBounce that, ayy\nShake that, ayy\nBounce that, ayy\nShake that, ayy\nBounce that, ayy\nShake that, ayy\nBounce that"}
{"text":"81 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Famous Lyrics\n(Zaytoven)\n(Metro Boomin want some more, nigga)\n\nRags to riches, nigga came from the bottom\nHood rats, now a nigga fuckin' on models\nRidin' in the foreign, remember ridin' on MARTA\nGrind got harder and my mind got smarter\nI was gettin' bags for the cheap\nWhen I ain't had money, I was robbin', nigga\nI was gettin' bags for the free\n21 Gang, they were right beside me\nAnd they still with me, nigga, I'm on TV\nCouple niggas switched up, bitched up, fuck 'em\nI can't go nowhere without a pistol or a rubber\nI'm too, too player to put a bitch before my brother\nI'm too street smart, nigga, to serve a undercover\nNiggas tryna clone a nigga's shit, damn, woah\nUsed to drive a hotbox, shit, Lambo'\nNiggas want a handout, shit, mine broke\nI grinded for this shit, I grinded for this shit\nCan't change on my gang, niggas still here\nKinda hard to change my ways 'cause the shit real\nNiggas rappin' 'bout shit they ain't even lived\nNiggas lyin', I can hear it in their ad-libs\nI'm poppin' Percocets, bitch, not Advil\nIt's kinda fucked up what they did to Black, damn\nIf I catch him in the trap, I'ma whack him\nI catch that boy in traffic, nigga, I'ma whack him\nNigga, try to keep up with this fashion, uh\nMakin' sure my kids happy, yeah\nThey dependent on their daddy, yeah\nTryin' not to let the streets distract me\nI know it's bumps in the road like acne\nHad to sell dope, I couldn't be an athlete\nI'm a solid young nigga, you can ask C\nThe internet ain't gon' help you, understand me\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI'm a street nigga, yeah, I'm famous\nI'm a rapper, nigga, and I'm gang-bangin'\nEverybody kill a nigga, what you claimin'?\nEverybody get it with your nigga flamin'\nAll these chains on a nigga like I'm stranglin'\nRan off with your money, nigga, guess we straight then\nYou knockoff gang-bangers ain't bangin'\nIn the hood everyday, I'm hangin'\n\nAnd I come through when the gang need\nAnd I wear shades, so they can't see\nAnd I pay them lawyers and the bond fees\nNigga, one thousand, I'm beyond G\nI put my main bitch inside Givenchy\nNiggas still askin', \"Can you front me?\"\nMy old ho sayin', \"Boy, you growed up\"\nPromethazine, it got a nigga slowed up\nToo solid, pussy-niggas can't disclose us\nWent and seen Eliantte, and he froze us\nI'm too street to walk around with my nose up\nEspecially to the niggas knew me 'fore I blowed up\nSavage Mode drop, now my price'll go up\nStreets cold, nigga, they ain't showin' no love\nNiggas get in front of judge and they fold up\nFace shot, hit that boy with the whole dub\nI'm a street nigga, yeah, I'm famous\nI'm a rapper, nigga, and I'm gang-bangin'\nEverybody kill a nigga, what you claimin'?\nEverybody get it with your nigga flamin'\nAll these chains on a nigga like I'm stranglin'\nRan off with your money, nigga, guess we straight then\nYou knockoff gang-bangers ain't bangin'\nIn the hood everyday, I'm hangin'\n\nCouple niggas switched up, bitched up, fuck 'em\nI can't go nowhere without a pistol or a rubber\nI'm too, too player to put a bitch before my brother\nI'm too street smart, nigga, to serve a undercover"}
{"text":"90 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u200bout for the night, pt. 2 Lyrics\nGive her back shots 'til her back hurt (Back shots)\nThumb through the money 'til my hands hurt (Cash out)\nWanna go on a date? You gotta dance first (Yah, yah)\nTake it to the paint, I gotta slam first (Yah, yah)\nShe be actin' stiff with the booty (On God)\nFeelin' like I'm Biggie rockin' Coogi (On God)\nDraco make you put up that lil' Uzi (On God)\nI don't want no features, niggas groupies (Straight up)\nPass her to the gang, quarterback sneak (Quarterback sneak)\nI was in my feelings, now it's, \"Fuck Kiki\" (Worried 'bout)\nLet lil' Tip hit that bitch, on GP (Straight up)\nSmokin' gas, nigga, I re-up at the BP\n\nFive foot five (Five), she my ride or die (Die)\nNever tell a lie (Lie), we like Bonnie and Clyde (Clyde)\nLookin' at her thigh (Thigh), like, \"Do it come with rice?\" (Rice)\nShe don't like FaceTime, she would rather Skype\nBut I'm out for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nYeah, I'm out for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nYeah, you workin' hard (Hard)\nAnd I see you (I do)\nAnd your bills late (Late)\nAnd your rent due (Yeah)\nAnd you never need a man to defend you (Straight up)\nYou already pissed off, on your menstrual (Straight up)\nAnd you been through (Yeah)\n'Cause he been through (Yeah)\nYou a star player (Yeah)\nAnd he benched you (Yeah)\nIn your corner, I'd never go against you (On God)\nBought a foreign, now it's friends wanna text you (Straight up)\nYou got off late (Late)\nAnd you worked out (Worked)\nYou ain't stunt his baby mama 'cause she burnt out (Burnt)\nYou got rid of him and made sure that we worked out (Facts)\nSo I put a hunnid racks in your purse now (Racks)\n\nFive foot five (Five), she my ride or die (Die)\nNever tell a lie (Lie), we like Bonnie and Clyde (Clyde)\nLookin' at her thigh (Thigh), like, \"Do it come with rice?\" (Rice)\nShe don't like FaceTime, she would rather Skype\nBut I'm out for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nYeah, I'm out for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nDamn...\nDamn...\nOoh (Huh)\n\nP-pardon my lateness, this beat hittin', slap\nAfter take one, then just run this shit back\nSay La Flame hot, no, I'm hotter than that (Yeah)\nTold you before, know this deeper than rap\nWe been up-up in the cap, ain't no cap (Uh)\nJust bought the block where they didn't want me at\nJust threw a fest right across from the tracks\nTried take my world, but I got that bitch back\nMy heart in this 'til I heart attack\nRunnin' this shit 'til cardiac\nNot far from this shit where they find me at\nFlame, Flame, La Flame\nWalk in my closet, she tryin' on pieces\nShe wanna bling blaow for the evenin'\nUp at the top it's still plottin' and schemin'\nCity of Angels, we watch for the demons\nOut of the window, we countin' in seasons\nThree nights in The Forum for the kids, gotta feed 'em\nThey open pits up without even speakin'\nIt's been some tension, but can't rock the wave\nLet the coupe roller coast, get the fuck out my way (Yeah, yeah)\nIt will start makin' sense, I guess, when I get older\nFor now 'cause they cold, I got ice to get colder\nI run through the H, keep an eighth when I go there\nDon't break out Mo\u00ebt 'cause I'm lit if I'm sober\nDon't mean that I'm slippin' and slidin' on this\nShe wanna go out for the night, I'm with it\nYeah"}
{"text":"80 Contributors7 Min Freestyle Lyrics\n(Southside, Southside on the, Southside on the, hey)\n(Metro Boomin want some more, nigga)\n\nGoyard duffle, yeah, yeah\nGot that Draco in it, yeah, yeah\nWhip a chicken, yeah, yeah\nTryna break the pot, yeah, yeah\nAnd I got that Glock, yeah, yeah\nI got thirty shots, yeah, yeah\nGot your baby mama, yeah, yeah\nShe bent over, nigga, yeah, yeah\nYoung Savage trappin', yeah, yeah\nAnd I'm fuckin' rappin', yeah, yeah\nI make lots of money, yeah, yeah\nAnd I throw it, throw it, yeah, yeah\nAyy, lil' bitch, you tryna blow it, yeah\nWoah, chopper like a lawnmower, yeah\nWoah, got that motherfuckin' dagger on me\nWoah, stab a nigga and his lil' homie, woah\nAnd I'm ballin' like Nowitzki, woah\nI get head like Lewinsky\nPolice tryna fingerprint me, woah\nI'm runnin' out that motherfucker, nigga, woah\nGet money like a motherfucker, nigga\nBags in, nigga, gas in\nCash out, nigga, cash in\nI'm robbin', ski maskin'\nYou niggas know that I'm 'bout action\nFishtail with the traction\nFuck a fistfight, nigga, I was blastin'\nAir that motherfucker out, we was smashin'\nGot them VVS's on me, nigga, glass\nFuck school, nigga, I always skipped class\nFuck the other side, throwin' red rags\nSlaughter Gang, PDE gon' do you bad, nigga\nRunnin' through this cash, through this cash, nigga\nAnd my bitch bad, bitch bad, nigga\nYeah, and I got a bag, got a bag, nigga\nWhy these niggas mad, why they sad, nigga?\n'Cause I'm poppin', ho, yeah, I'm poppin', ho\nGot your main bitch pussy poppin', ho\nWe don't want that pussy, we just want that toppy, ho\nAnd I don't want it if the shit ain't sloppy, ho\nYeah, gang, gang, nigga, gang, gang\nAyy, niggas snitchin' in the chain gang, ayy\nThey must not know they go in the chain gang, ayy\nStab 'em up, nigga, stab 'em up\nI'm in a Bentley truck, you in a Acura\nYou niggas actin' like I ain't got racks or somethin'\nYou niggas actin' like I ain't in the trap or somethin'\nFuck you niggas thought, Savage was just rappin', huh?\nAyy, your main bitch, she gon' back it up\n21, that .223 gon' make you back it up\n21, that show money I just stack it up\n21, I'm real gangster, you just actin' tough, woah\nNiggas tryna put the feds on me, woah\nMy young niggas droppin' shells on 'em, woah\nI know they scared now, scared now\nNiggas broke, they can't even pay they bail now\nAyy, I get a brick and I bust it down, nigga\nPut it in the pyrex and drown it, nigga\nWater whip the dope, water whip it\nHo, water whip your ho, water whip 'em, yeah\nThem VVS's got her hypnotized, yeah\nI used to walk around with two nines, woah\nThen I hit a nigga for two nines, 21\nThat's a half a brick, lil' nigga, 21\nYou a fuckin' shrimp, lil' nigga, 21\nI got somethin' for that lip, lil' nigga, 21\nHave you with a limp, lil' nigga, 21\nCut you up, no temp, lil' nigga, yeah\nI get money 'cause I'm rich, nigga, yeah\nI might fuck all on your bitch, nigga, yeah\nGot a drank in in the vip, nigga, yeah\nShe want a gangster, not a wimp, nigga, yeah\nBurberry fur on me, shit, woah\nThirty, Steph Curry on me, shit, woah\nEatin' chicken curry in this bitch, woah\nGood food, nigga, good food, 21\nI'm a gangster, you a good dude, 21\nI won't text her 'til she send nudes, 21\nShe call my phone when the rent due, 21\nI ain't got a dime for your stankin' ass, 21\nWash your behind with your stankin' ass, bitch\nAnd your nigga broke, down bad, bitch\nAll my niggas havin' fuckin' bags, bitch\nRich niggas, rich niggas, rich, 21\nHit, nigga, hit, nigga, hit, 21\nThat stick, nigga, stick, nigga, stick, 21\nBricks, nigga, licks, nigga, hits, 21\nSlaughter Gang, PDE the shit, 21\nGot the rap game on lock fast, 21\nGot the block game on lock fast, 21\nI got that Glock aim on lock fast, 21\nI drop cop and send shots fast, 21\nYou only gangster when the gangsters gone, 21\nYou just a pussy with a camera phone, 21\nYou just a bitch with an Instagram, 21\nNo trigger finger, I got a trigger hand, 21\nAll of 'em like to shoot, nigga, 21\nAll of 'em like boot, nigga, 21\nAll of 'em in your boot, nigga, 21\nFinger holes, nigga, finger holes, 21\nYou just a pussy with some finger rolls, 21\nI can't respect a nigga with cornrows, 21\nBroke nigga with your brother clothes, 21\nBroke nigga fuckin' your brother hoes, 21\nGet your own, nigga, get your own, 21\nYou ain't grown, nigga, you ain't grown, 21\nYour money brown and my money long, 21\nMy blunt green and my gas strong, 21\nYour bitch bad and I got her number, 21\nAll her friends wanna throw a slumber, 21\nI might fuck all on that bitch mama, 21\nI might take that lil' bitch out that Honda, 21\nPut that lil' bitch in a Benz, yeah, 21\nI wish that bitch had a twin, yeah, 21\nShe wanna fuck on my friends, yeah, 21\nMan, that bitch got on some Timbs, yeah, 21\nBut I put that bitch in Gucci Gucci, 21\nMan, I fuck that bitch like she Karruche, 21\nI might lick that, do the oochie coochie, 21\nGot a brown one like a nigga Boosie, 21\nNigga, catch me all up in Bruce's, 21\nAnd you know I pull up with that Uzi, 21\nI might shoot a nigga, make the news and, 21\nNiggas, mm, nigga, niggas losin', 21\nYeah, yeah, nigga, yeah, yeah, 21\nServe a nigga with no scale, scale, 21\nCome and help me wrap this bale, bale, 21\nFuck 12, no seatbelt, 21\nFuck 12, I don't need help, 21\n12 gauge, nigga that's my help, 21See 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol1.5 Lyrics\nMy earrings cost a half a ticket, I don't hear the same shit y'all niggas hear\nOn God\n\nPockets on Cheez-Its, heavy on the cheddar (Cheddar)\nRun off with your money, Savage a.k.a. Jerry Heller (Heller)\nToo much drip, I'm rainin', bought a Gucci umbrella (Umbrella)\nWhy you always trippin' bitch? You must look up to Ella (Ella)\nIt's only the first night and she keep tryna snuggle (Snuggle)\nI slept on my back just so I ain't have to cuddle (Cuddle)\nNothing 'bout me average, hit her with a Fendi rubber (Straight up)\nFeel like a magician, all these bitches that I juggle (Straight up)\n'Rari red, Bentley black, got a Demon and a Cat\nCheck the stats, all facts, rap made me a lot of racks\nDown bad, caught a flat, change his tire, he got jacked\nAss fat, waist snatched, can I get some of that pussycat?\n\n1.5 (1.5) on the ride (On the ride)\nNiggas die (Niggas die) when we slide (When we slide)\nDraw the line (Draw the line) pick a side (Pick a side)\nAin't no switchin' (Ain't no switchin') on my guys (On the gang)\n1.5 (1.5) on the ride (On the ride)\nNiggas die (Niggas die) when we slide (When we slide)\nDraw the line (Draw the line) pick a side (Pick a side)\nAin't no switchin' (Ain't no switchin') on my guys (On the gang)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nOffset!\nCatch a vibe (Vibes)\nThe doors go up, suicides ('Cides)\nThe diamonds poke your eyes (Eyes)\nDon't tread my gang, they shiest (Gang)\nI don't take advice (Nah)\nI don't care 'bout price (Woo)\nSticks, the boss don't fight (Brr)\nFlippin' bricks in the loft at night (Bricks)\nTold her \"Get what you want, I swipe\" (Hey)\nHop in the Lambo, brains open (Skrr)\nMy chain soakin' (Soakin')\nCodeine in my vein, I'm strokin' (Codeine)\nI put her head in motion (Bow)\nThis Patek right here a trophy (Patek)\nPassed out on the Herm\u00e8s sofa (Hey)\nStraight face, this a game of poker (Game)\nThe green Lambo a ogre (Skrr)\nWe pass the bitch (Bitch)\nGot to flippin' the bitch in the wrist (Flippin' the bitch)\nJust ask your bitch (Ask her)\nI fuck, no kiss (Smash)\nWalked right in this bitch, don't touch me, don't get frisked(Nah)\nLet's get lit (Lit)\n1.5 (1.5) on the ride (On the ride)\nNiggas die (Niggas die) when we slide (When we slide)\nDraw the line (Draw the line) pick a side (Pick a side)\nAin't no switchin' (Ain't no switchin') on my guys (On the gang)\n1.5 (1.5) on the ride (On the ride)\nNiggas die (Niggas die) when we slide (When we slide)\nDraw the line (Draw the line) pick a side (Pick a side)\nAin't no switchin' (Ain't no switchin') on my guys (On the gang)"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7eEspa\u00f1ol\u200bout for the night Lyrics\nGive her back shots 'til her back hurt (Back shots)\nThumb through the money 'til my hands hurt (Cash out)\nWanna go on a date? You gotta dance first (Yah, yah)\nTake it to the paint, I gotta slam first (Yah, yah)\nShe be actin' stiff with the booty (On God)\nFeelin' like I'm Biggie rockin' Coogi (On God)\nDraco make you put up that lil' Uzi (On God)\nI don't want no features, niggas groupies (Straight up)\nPass her to the gang, quarterback sneak (Quarterback sneak)\nI was in my feelings, now it's, \"Fuck Kiki\" (Worried 'bout)\nLet lil' Tip hit that bitch, on GP (Straight up)\nSmokin' gas, nigga, I re-up at the BP\n\nFive foot five (Five), she my ride or die (Die)\nNever tell a lie (Lie), we like Bonnie and Clyde (Clyde)\nLookin' at her thigh (Thigh), like, \"Do it come with rice?\" (Rice)\nShe don't like FaceTime, she would rather Skype\nBut I'm out for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nYeah, I'm out for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nYeah, you workin' hard (Hard)\nAnd I see you (I do)\nAnd your bills late (Late)\nAnd your rent due (Yeah)\nAnd you never need a man to defend you (Straight up)\nYou already pissed off, on your menstrual (Straight up)\nAnd you been through (Yeah)\n'Cause he been through (Yeah)\nYou a star player (Star)\nAnd he benched you (Yeah)\nIn your corner, I'd never go against you (On God)\nBought a foreign, now it's friends wanna text you (Straight up)\nYou got off late (Late)\nAnd you worked out (Worked)\nYou ain't stunt his baby mama 'cause she burnt out (Burnt)\nYou got rid of him and made sure that we worked out (Facts)\nSo I put a hunnid racks in your purse now (Racks)\n\nFive foot five (Five), she my ride or die (Die)\nNever tell a lie (Lie), we like Bonnie and Clyde (Clyde)\nLookin' at her thigh (Thigh), like, \"Do it come with rice?\" (Rice)\nShe don't like FaceTime, she would rather Skype\nBut I'm out for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nOut for the night (Straight up)\nYeah, I'm out for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)\nOut for the night (On God)"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u200bgood day Lyrics\nI think of murder, murder on me mind\nMurder on the menu, murder all the time\n\nToday was a good day, ain't have to spray the K\nToday was a good day, pour some Actavis\nToday was a good day, I woke up with your bitch\nToday was a good day, cross her off the list\nToday was a good day, ain't have to spray the K\nToday was a good day, I sold a brick of yay\nToday was a good day, my brother beat his case\nToday was a good day, day\n\nMurder with the .45, murder with the nine\nMurdering that bitch, put that dick up in her spine\nMurder with the .45, murder with the nine\nMurdering that bitch, put that dick up in her spine (Uh, ooh)\n\nI don't do love, I don't do hate, I don't do gullible (Gullible, yeah)\nDope in the pantry, serving up candy, watch looking colorful (Colorful, bling)\nGot an extendo, it's a new thing, it got kick with it (Ayy, ayy)\nGot a new drum, that pa-rum-pum, I can't miss with it, uh\nI'm in the four door (Four door), driving it solo (Ayy, nyoom)\nNigga, it's stolen, hop out and park 'em, nigga\nThen walk home (Brrap)\nAll of this gang talk, gang talk\nWalk with me, red dot on your head turn green\nTurn your Twitter fingers to a crime scene (Splat, splat, splat)\nStreet sweep sweep sweep (Whoop, whoop)\nWonder how I get the dope so cheap\nPlug walk, get the bags off me (Whoop, whoop, whoop)\nTwo for ten going in all week\nTwin Glocks don't pretend round me, uh (Round me, brrt)\nHit the deck, going down 'round me ('Round me)\nCouple shots have a 'round 'round me (Ayy, ayy)\nOne clip but it came twelve deep (Whoop, whoop, whoop)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nToday was a good day, ain't have to spray the K\nToday was a good day, pour some Actavis\nToday was a good day, I woke up with your bitch\nToday was a good day, cross her off the list\nToday was a good day, ain't have to spray the K\nToday was a good day, I sold a brick of yay\nToday was a good day, my brother beat his case\nToday was a good day, day\nNiggas they die, many die, die, dead niggas\nI pull the trig-, pull the trig-, pull the trigger\nNiggas they die, many die, die, dead niggas\nI pull the trig-, pull the trig-, pull the trigger\n\nGot the boy for 50 things, now he wanna kill me now\n50 drums, air his mammy house out, do he feel me now?\nLeft his kinfolk full of leaks, in the street we play for keeps\nClosed casket, aim for his head, shot him in his teeth\nMud nigga, hood nigga, opp killer, thot driller\nMemphis, Tennessee we got real hitters\nDrug dealers, cop killers\nGang spitters, sauce drippers\nPussy ass niggas, you need to bleed\nDraco bury you like a seed, I know you niggas ain't liking me\nPatta, all about that sack-uh\nRan up on me, 45 blew out his back-uh\nRack after rack-uh, you know I'm gon' stack-uh\nTreat this rap shit, man, like I'm hustling crack-uh, Patta\nToday was a good day, ain't have to spray the K\nToday was a good day, pour some Actavis\nToday was a good day, I woke up with your bitch\nToday was a good day, cross her off the list\nToday was a good day, ain't have to spray the K\nToday was a good day, I sold a brick of yay\nToday was a good day, my brother beat his case\nToday was a good day, day"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsAll the Smoke Lyrics\nWoah, woah, woah, woah, woah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah)\nYeah (Woah), yeah (Woah-woah), yeah\nWoah (Woah), woah (Woah)\nWoah (Yeah), woah (Yeah)\nWoah (Yeah), woah (Yeah)\nWoah (Yeah), woah (Yeah)\nW-woah (Woah), woah (Yeah)\nYeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah)\nYeah (Yeah), yeah (Yeah)\nYeah (Yeah), yeah (21), yeah (21)\n\nDropped out of school (21)\nWent and bought a tool (Tool)\nGot a deuce deuce (What?)\nTime to act a fool (Yeah)\nSellin' 2 for 5s (Yeah)\nRight on Central Drive (Yeah)\nYou can ask my mama, I ain't gotta tell no lies (Yeah)\nWanna snort a line (Yeah)\nSavage got them lines (Yeah)\nYeah them niggas used to rap but I jumped the line (21)\nI listened to your mixtape, that shit was wack (Shit was wack)\nStudio time, you need to get your money back (On God)\nBack in the day, I let my uncle cook my crack (Cook my crack)\nBack in the day, I would have took that nigga's pack\n(Took the pack)\nFast forward, still walk 'round with a strap (21, 21)\nGotta keep that pistol on me, that's at all times (All times)\nGotta keep a yoppa on me, I got all kinds (21)\nRoom full of bad bitches and they all mine (Yeah)\nRoom full of bad bitches and they all dimes (21)\nIn a breakdown trap servin' all dimes, yeah\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nBurglar-bar doors, burglar-bar doors (Yeah, yeah)\nWater on the stove, water on the stove (Yeah, yeah)\nWatch me whip a O, watch me whip a O (21, 21)\nWe want all the smoke, we want all the smoke (21, 21)\nD-R-A-C-O, D-R-A-C-O (Draco, Draco)\nShoot 'em in the face, shoot 'em in the nose (21, 21)\nI paid my lawyer dope, he played with his nose (Yeah, yeah)\nAR with the scope, nigga, don't get close (Woah, woah)\n\nTrash bag full of mid-grade (Mid-grade)\nI'm cutthroat, nigga, switchblade (Switchblade)\nShe sucked my dick so long, she caught a lip ache (A lip ache)\nNew car drop, I'm on the list, wait (Wait list)\nI'm on the wait list, 21, and I weight lift (Yeah)\nDrop a brick off to you, that's a weight lift (Yeah)\nDrop the stick off to you, give you a whole clip (Yeah)\nClosed casket, nigga, I'm a bastard (21)\nAsk around the 6, nigga we get drastic (Drastic)\nGlenwood Road, killin' like Jurassic (Park)\nI see dead bodies like I'm on acid (21)\nShe fuck me good like she tryna get her ass did (Yeah)\n\nBurglar-bar doors, burglar-bar doors (Yeah, yeah)\nWater on the stove, water on the stove (Yeah, yeah)\nWatch me whip a O, watch me whip a O (21, 21)\nWe want all the smoke, we want all the smoke (21, 21)\nD-R-A-C-O, D-R-A-C-O (Draco, Draco)\nShoot 'em in the face, shoot 'em in the nose (21, 21)\nI paid my lawyer dope, he played with his nose (Yeah, yeah)\nAR with the scope, nigga, don't get close (Woah, woah)"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00eas\u200bbreak da law Lyrics\nSouthside on the track, yeah\nYeah\nCut the bullshit, I'm not with it\nCall your main bitch, she let me hit it\nHaha, ha\nMetro Boomin want some more, nigga\n\nDiamonds got dripped in a lake (A lake)\nI don\u2019t be goin' on dates (On dates)\nShe got an ass, but it's fake (It\u2019s fake)\nHe savin' hoes, need a cape (Cape)\nLil' mama's head supreme (Straight up)\nBut I'm still rockin' this Bape (On God)\nAll I know is two guns, nigga\nIf you a plate, you get ate (Brrat)\nHad to put a bitch on pause (Pause)\nMe and my dawgs break laws (Laws)\n21 gang 'til I fall (Fall)\nYou could get hit in the jaw (Jaw)\nThe chopper can hit all of y'all (Straight up)\nYour brother, your goldfish and dog (All)\nMost of my niggas just rob (Wow)\nThey cut off and hand you your balls (On God)\nHit your BFF, I\u2019m petty (21)\nCan\u2019t leave the streets, I ain't ready (21)\nMe and my hood got married (21)\nAnd my wedding ring was a machete (Straight up)\nNeed me a Keisha like Belly (Straight up)\nDissin\u2019 me, got a nigga's homeboys buried (On God)\nThey don't come outside, they scary (Scary)\nWhen we start spinnin' niggas\u2019 blocks, they telling (Pussy)\nGot your baby mama in a yolk (Yolk)\nI don't smoke weed, I sell dope (21)\nAin't no back and forth, it's smoke (Smoke)\nPull up on you and your folks (Your folks)\nTry to give me head, she choke (Ugh)\nWe call you a rat 'cause you spoke (Bitch)\nAll these tennis chains like I'm in a tennis game\nY'all niggas wearin' gold ropes (You're broke)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nKillers out the 6 (Zone 6)\nGot 'em all hired (Straight up)\nEx-girlfriends (Old hoes)\nGot 'em all fired (Bye-bye)\nDon't you cross the gang, dawg\nWe're like barbed wire (Straight up)\nStackin' up these M's\nI'm a habitual car buyer (Skrrt)\n\nActin' Hollywood, I kicked her out on Wilshire (Bye)\nGot a model and she tighter than a grill plier (Fine)\nSneak and steal my flow, lot of these rappers slick biters (21)\nI'm 4L gang for L, dawg, and we got big rifles (On God)\nLet me pop my shit (Yeah)\nKeep a big Glock on my hip (Yeah)\nOne up top, my shit (On God)\nI don't like to cock my shit (Straight up)\nY'all niggas gossip and shit (On God)\nNo more beef, we drop that shit (Straight up)\nY'all niggas talk that shit (Straight up)\nNever had a payment, I bought that shit (Straight up, straight up)\nVS1 on my wrist (Wrist)\nCan't put my tongue on no bitch (No bitch)\n'Cause I still kiss my kids (I do)\nHo, you need to fix your wig (You do)\nAll my brothers did a bid (Straight up)\nWhen they came home, we was rich (Straight up)\nFuck 40 acres and a mule\nThey got 50 racks and a brand new Sig (On God)\nLil' boy, get up out the way (Yeah)\nLil' boy, we didn't come to play (Yeah)\nAnd I got a partner named Dre (Dre)\nYou can get beats by Dre (On God)\nYou can get hit by K (K)\nK hit you, that's your last day (Day)\nGlock 27, that's bae (21)\nStick the 30 in it, had a baby (Yeah)\nMy strippers got S-Class 'Cedes (Straight up)\nRide me slow like you drivin' Miss Daisy\nI ain't go to school 'cause I was too lazy\nHad to cut her off 'cause she was too crazy\nMoncler jacket, a letterman (Letterman)\nI gotta keep a Beretta, man (Beretta, man)\nShe screamin' and scratchin' and yellin', man (And yellin', man)\nI got her in a falsetto, man (Falsetto, man)\nHad to put a bitch on pause (Pause)\nMe and my dawgs break laws (Laws)\n21 gang 'til I fall (Fall)\nMe and my dawgs break laws (Laws)\n21 gang 'til I fall (Fall)\nMe and my dawgs break laws (Laws)\nYou could get hit in the jaw (Your jaw)\nThe chopper can hit all of y'all (Straight up)\nYour brother, your goldfish and dog (All)\nMost of my niggas just rob (Wow)\nThey cut off and hand you your balls (On God)"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsWhole Lot Lyrics\nYeah nigga, it's a knife and all, y'know what I'm sayin'?\nYeah nigga, I hit your wife and all, y'know what I'm sayin'?\nYeah, this a plain AP, but I got a lotta watches, y'know what I'm sayin'?\nYeah, Metro Boomin want some more nigga\n\nNigga made a whole lotta guala\nNow I got a whole lotta problems (yeah)\nMain bitch fuckin' my partner (main bitch)\nNigga, we ain't trippin', we ballin' (fool)\nAnd I got a whole lotta shotters (and I gotta)\nHang around a whole lotta robbers (hang around)\nAnd I got a bad bitch callin' (and I gotta)\nPut a bad bitch in Cartier\nCatch a nigga ridin' down College (skrt skrt)\nCatch a nigga ridin' down Godby (get madder nigga)\nWe ain't talkin' 'bout it, we savage\nWe don't talk about it, we shotters\nStraight up out the gutter, we charted (gutter)\nStraight up out the gutter, we heartless (heartless)\nI'm a street nigga and a artist (street nigga)\nAnd I'm gon' hit my targets (voom voom)\n\nVVS's drippin' off my chain, hoe (ooh)\nI be in them places where you can't go (can't go)\nMy brother down the road on tango (I still see him)\nYou rap niggas sweeter than a mango (pussy sweet)\nTEC on me with the coolie on it\nI'ma fuck around and I'ma squeeze (ooh)\nPain runnin' through my veins\nI don't want the fame, I just wanna eat (ooh)\nRap niggas callin' my phone\nFuck these niggas, these niggas ain't G's (one hunnit)\nSpend on a lot of niggas, I ain't spend no more\nFuck around and get robbed 'round me (fast)\nChain snatched\nWatch snatched, don't get it back (get it)\nChopper on you (slat)\nWrong move, get hit in the back (cutter)\nI'm Young Savage\nReal nigga, they vouchin' for that (they vouchin' for that)\nI keep it on me\nOne in the head, I'm cockin' it back\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nNigga made a whole lotta guala (yeah)\nNow I got a whole lotta problems (got a whole lotta)\nMain bitch fuckin' my partner (main bitch)\nNigga, we ain't trippin', we ballin' (ain't trippin on 'em)\nAnd I got a whole lotta shotters (and I gotta)\nHang around a whole lotta robbers (hang around)\nAnd I got a bad bitch callin' (and I gotta)\nPut a bad bitch in Cartier (yeah)\nCatch a nigga ridin' down College (ooh)\nCatch a nigga ridin' down Godby (get madder nigga)\nWe ain't talkin' 'bout it, we savage (ain't talk about it)\nWe don't talk about it, we shotters (ain't talk about it)\nStraight up out the gutter, we charted (okay)\nStraight up out the gutter, we heartless (okay)\nI'm a street nigga and a artist (ooh)\nAnd I'm gon' hit my targets\n\nAnd I make your bitch drop it back\nAnd I spend a dub in Saks\nAnd I do a whole lot of drinkin'\nI done put a hole in my kidney\nY'all niggas pussy like kittens (uh)\nVVS's on, I need mittens (VVS)\nNigga, we ain't leavin' no witness\nStomp a nigga 'til he need stitches (woah)\nI ain't never played no victim\nEvery nigga played, I killed him\nPut a nigga in a blender, nigga, then we chop it up (then we chop it up)\nPut it in the Pyrex, nigga, then we lock it up (lock it up)\nPut that bitch inside a Benz, she was in a Acura\nNiggas be actin' tough, I just be stackin' up (I just be stackin' up)\nUsed to ride around with Dracos, now I'm going platinum (platinum)\nNigga, put gold on denim (gold)\nNigga, I said it, I meant it (meant it)\nNigga, be fresh like mint (fresh)\nNigga on percs, I'm itchin' (nigga)\nNigga, I stayed in the trenches (nigga)\nNiggas still play in the trenches (nigga)\nStayed up late on missions (fool)\nSometimes we ain't strike for a dime (for a dime)\nIf them niggas actin' scared, I ride (I'm gon' go)\nWhen my brother got killed, I cried\nI can't let a nigga stop my stride (stride)\nGotta keep this shit goin', gotta move (move)\nIf it come down to it, I'm bustin' moves (fool)\nI jump up out that vert with a Uzi (skrt)\nThese facts, lil' nigga I'm the truth (truth)\nYou got goons, lil' nigga, I got troops (I got troops)\nThey don't got Instagrams 'cause they shoot (I got, I got)\nCoulda got a four-door, I got a coupe (got that coupe)\nCoulda fucked that bitch, I passed her to the crew (here you go)\nShiverin' and shakin', boy you ain't gon' shoot\nRice Street, man I ate a lot of soups\nNigga made a whole lotta guala\nNow I got a whole lotta problems (yeah)\nMain bitch fuckin' my partner (main bitch)\nNigga, we ain't trippin', we ballin' (fool)\nAnd I got a whole lotta shotters (and I gotta)\nHang around a whole lotta robbers (hang around)\nAnd I got a bad bitch callin' (and I gotta)\nPut a bad bitch in Cartier\nCatch a nigga ridin' down College (skrt skrt)\nCatch a nigga ridin' down Godby (get madder nigga)\nWe ain't talkin' 'bout it, we savage\nWe don't talk about it, we shotters\nStraight up out the gutter, we charted (gutter)\nStraight up out the gutter, we heartless (heartless)\nI'm a street nigga and a artist (street nigga)\nAnd I'm gon' hit my targets (voom voom)"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsSpecial Lyrics\nIn my feelin's, she got me in my feelins\nShe got me in my feelins (For real)\nShe got me in my feelins (For real)\nGot me in my feelin' (For real)\nShe got me in my feelins (For real)\nShe got me in my feelins (For real)\nGot me...\nWheezy Beats\n\nShe got me in my feelins (For real)\nBuy a brand new Bentley (For real)\nBuy her new Chanel (For real)\nI don't kiss and tell (No)\nHer diamonds raindrop (Yeah)\nStay down when the fame stop (Yeah)\nShe be scratchin' on my tank top\nReal niggas 'gone make the pain stop\nBaby, is you gone ride with me 'till the wheels off? (21)\nBaby, you 'gone calm me down when I'm pissed off (21)\nI'm a savage, so your panties might get ripped off (Take 'em off)\nYour ex didn't know how to appreciate you, now he missed out\n\nWe got somethin' special\nWe got somethin' special\nWe got somethin' special\nWe got somethin' special\nI was finna text you\nBut I ain't wanna pest you\nEven if we ain't together (No matter we're forever)\nI'm still comin' to your rescue\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nPut you in that coupe\nPut you in Jimmy Choo (21)\nBirkin bag (Yeah), twenty-five thousand on the tag (Yeah)\nPut you on a private jet (Yeah)\nWe ain't never ridin' first class (Yeah)\nAnd we havin' sex in the air (Yeah)\nMan, I hope the pilot don't crash (Yeah)\nHard to find a bad bitch to stay true to me (21)\nWho gon' spend them late nights in the booth with me?\nGot a gutter bitch, she pullin' up to shoot with me\nIf you can't stay down, then you ain't gon' reap the fruits with me\nCoke bottle model and she like to swallow\nPussy so good, I give her all my guala (All my money)\nI got your back forever, put that on my partner (On God)\nYou ain't gotta pay no bills, you found my heart\n\nWe got somethin' special\nWe got somethin' special (Yeah)\nWe got somethin' special\nWe got somethin' special\nI was finna text you\nBut I ain't wanna pest you\nEven if we ain't together (No matter we're forever)\nI'm still comin' to your rescue\nRide with me (Ride with me)\nTell the truth and don't you lie to me (Lie to me)\nYou know I need you on my side with me (Side with me)\nTell the truth and don't you lie to me (Lie to me)\nBaby, roll with me (Roll with me)\nJump in that coupe and, baby, coast with me (Coast with me)\nIf I was broke, she kickin' doors with me (Doors with me)\nBaby, roll with me, roll with me (21)\nI'mma hold you down forever, you my round forever\nThey just want to use you, but I'm tryna help you\nSavage tryna build, they just tryna feel\nReally ain't none of their business, we got somethin' real\n\nWe got somethin' special\nWe got somethin' special\nWe got somethin' special\nWe got somethin' special\nI was finna text you\nBut I don't wanna pest you\nEven if we ain't together (No matter we're forever)\nI'm still comin' to your rescue"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsFaceTime Lyrics\nMustard on the beat, ho\n\nHenny in my system, I'm gone (I'm gone)\nSpeedin' on the E way, all gone (gone)\nGirl you put up with that nigga? You strong (you strong)\nAin't no need to play games, I'm grown (I'm grown)\nOut there cheating, man, it turn ya heart cold (heart cold)\nShe don't wanna hear the lies this old (this old)\nTakin' shots even when it's too strong (too strong)\nFuck a nigga, lick her, make her moan (her moan)\nGotta get up in the mornin', she grown (she grown)\nI be drankin', I be drivin', I'm wrong (I'm wrong)\nHad a long day at work and I know (I Know)\nI can't text my girl, I'm on my way home (way home)\n\nI'm too drunk to text so can we FaceTime? (FaceTime)\nI won't waste your time if you don't waste mine (don't waste mine)\nGirl I wanna taste yours if you gon' taste mine (taste mine)\nI won't take your love for granted if you don't take mine (take mine)\n\nWe can get drunk all weekend\nLet's get drunk all weekend, baby\nWe can get drunk all weekend\nLet's get drunk all weekend, baby\nWe can get drunk all weekend\nLet's get drunk all weekend, baby\nWe can get drunk all weekend\nLet's get drunk all weekend, yeah\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI take her shoppin', that's easy (that's easy)\nFuck the summer, girl I ball all season (all season)\nShe don't want me to think that she easy (she easy)\nBut she ain't tryna make it seem like she teasin' (she teasin')\nWe just chillin' at the bar and she cheesin' (she cheesin')\nBuy a hundred shots for no reason (reason)\nMan, I'm tryna take you home this evening (this evening)\nBrown liquor got her panties leakin' (leakin')\nThat nigga stealin' pussy, he thiefin' (he thiefin')\nOG Kush, I'm chiefin' (I'm chiefin')\nLet me swim inside your pool, yeah, the deep end (deep end)\nAnd we can get drunk all weekend (weekend)\n\nI'm too drunk to text so can we FaceTime? (FaceTime)\nI won't waste your time if you don't waste mine (don't waste mine)\nGirl I wanna taste yours if you gon' taste mine (taste mine)\nI won't take your love for granted if you don't take mine (take mine)\nI'm too drunk to text so can we FaceTime? (FaceTime)\nI won't waste your time if you don't waste mine (don't waste mine)\nGirl I wanna taste yours if you gon' taste mine (taste mine)\nI won't take your love for granted if you don't take mine (take mine)\n\nWe can get drunk all weekend\nLet's get drunk all weekend, baby\nWe can get drunk all weekend\nLet's get drunk all weekend, baby\nWe can get drunk all weekend\nLet's get drunk all weekend, baby\nWe can get drunk all weekend\nLet's get drunk all weekend, yeah\nI'm too drunk to text so can we FaceTime? (FaceTime)\nI won't waste your time if you don't waste mine (don't waste mine)\nGirl I wanna taste yours if you gon' taste mine (taste mine)\nI won't take your love for granted if you don't take mine (take mine)"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsTranslations21 Savage - Skrrt Skrrt (Traduction Fran\u00e7aise)Skrrt Skrrt Lyrics\nFuck 12\nSkrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt\n\nSkrrt, skrrt (Close that motherfuckin' door, nigga), skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt (Fuck wrong with you? You trippin', nigga), skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt (Hell, hand me that baking soda, nigga), skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt (God damn, nigga, I only count on it), skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt (Cut the stove up, cut the stove up, cut the\u2014), skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt (No, 'cause you don't need that, man, you trippin'), skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt (Hell, you gon' burn the dope up, but still), skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt (Hell, keep that motherfucker on me), skrrt, skrrt\n\nCooking up dope in Givenchys, all my niggas counting benjis\nPull up on you with the sticks, nigga, we gon' handle business\nI know a lot of niggas out here say they worth a mill' ticket\nI guess everybody rich, you a goddamn liar\nTook the stand on your right hand, man, so you had to die\nLost a lot of my real niggas, so I had to cry\n21 and that Sex Money what I live by\nGlock .40 with the 30 round and a red dot\nYoung nigga went from hot boxing to a trap spot\nNiggas clutching on the choppers every time the fuckin' door knock\nSantan' molly that'll make your fucking heart stop\nFeds taking pictures every time the fucking car stop\nAuntie hit the dope, said it make her fucking jaw lock\nStray bullets hitting kids while they playing hop scotch\nFifteen and pregnant, told her momma and a fucking tear drop\nAnd that's my soda, that's my stove and that's my pot, 21\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\n\nMy wrist in the bowl and I skrrt, I bought a new 'Rari, I skrrt\nI fuck on your bitch then I skrrt, we pull up and murder and skrrt\nThese niggas, they know I'm berserk, I keep it up under my shirt\nMy nigga, we flipping that work, we juug and remixing that work\nLil' bitty bitch wanna flirt, this lil' bitty bitch wanna flirt\nI'm fucking this bitch for a perc', I'm fucking this bitch for a perc'\nI'm smoking the OG from Cali', you lil' niggas still smokin' purp'\nNiggas be talking that gangster shit 'til these lil' niggas get hurt\nSlaughter Gang, nigga, they with me and they will put you on a shirt\nI Slaughter Gang, nigga, I'll slaughter your daughter then send her to church\nCan't lose no more niggas, I lost some real niggas and, nigga, it hurts\nSo I bought a new chopper, it's fully and semi and three round burst\n\nMotherfucking Slaughter Tape, nigga\nYeah, nigga, y'all know what the fuck going on, nigga\nHuh?\nSlaughter your daughter\nSlaughter your daughter\n21, 21, 21\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsBaby Girl Lyrics\nYeah, whole pointers 'round my muhfuckin' neck, nigga\nYeah, six karats in my ears, nigga\nYeah, I look like a blizzard, lil nigga\n\nYeah, too many chains, bitch, you can't change\nYeah, treat these hoes like I ain't got home training\nYeah, tennis chains, too many karats\nYeah, VVS nigga, real clarity\nYeah, I'm a gangster, you a bitch, clearly\nYeah, can't let a broke bitch get near me\nYeah, and the bank cash my check barely\nYeah, Saint Laurent got your bitch staring\nGoyard bag, I'm on some other shit, bitch boy\nFire at us and get your pussy ass hit, boy\nYou dropped outta school to jump out with that stick, boy\nAll you niggas get capped, I'm the real McCoy\nYeah, smoking cookie, nigga, Chips Ahoy\nYeah, had to block her number 'cause the bitch annoying\nNo more hot boxes, nigga, all my shit foreign\nRed, red, pee in the bed, got a nigga snoring\n\nYeah, suck me like a lollipop, baby girl\nYeah, suck me like a lollipop, baby girl\nRide that dick and do the bunny hop, baby girl\nRide that dick and do the bunny hop, baby girl\nYe ain't talkin' 'bout money, I ain't stayin', baby girl\nYe ain't talkin' 'bout fuckin', I ain't stayin', baby girl\nDid that Gucci shit, all that shit be tailored, girl\nYeah, you got some cake, a nigga tryna bake it, girl\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nStab a nigga up, this that Shawshank Redemption\nBitch, I send hits, I don't walk 'round with tension\nGot a island girl and she come from St. Vincent\nPull up with the chopper, nigga stuttering and flinching\nBitch, I'm John Gotti, I be running like henchmen\nBitch, you better be a pro\n'Cause you ain't finna learn how to suck on this dick\nBitch, I'mma buy me a K, extended clip on the bottom of this shit\nBitch, my 833's and 204, they makin' me biscuits\nHoe, I'm really rich, don't know what a bitch thought\nVVS bitch, they doin' a crip walk\nNiggas act like JJ, you might as well hit chalk\nMy GD partners throwin' up the pitchfork\nPut it in a bowl and whip it 'til it get hard\nI don't smoke weed 'cause it make me shh-noid\nI pull up with the stick and let this bitch spark\nSwear I would've shot that cracker if I was Rosa Parks\n\nYeah, suck me like a lollipop, baby girl\nYeah, suck me like a lollipop, baby girl\nRide that dick and do the bunny hop, baby girl\nRide that dick and do the bunny hop, baby girl\nYe ain't talkin' 'bout money, I ain't stayin', baby girl\nYe ain't talkin' 'bout fuckin', I ain't stayin', baby girl\nDid that Gucci shit, all that shit be tailored, girl\nYeah, you got some cake, a nigga tryna bake it, girl\nNah, for real, dog, nah, for real, dog\nNah, for real, dog, nah, for real, dog\nNah, for real, dog, nah, for real, dog\nNah, for real, dog, nah, for real, dog\n2"}
{"text":"October '92 when you pushed me out (Straight up)\nIt was only right that I made a song about you (Straight up)\nAin\u2019t no tellin' where I'd be if I went without you (On God)\nWish I woulda stayed in school, but I dropped out (On God)\nYou taught me how to be strong, gotta give praise (21)\nWhen the times got hard, you always made ways (On God)\nEven though I barely got the new Js (On God)\nYou made sure the kid kept a temp fade (Straight up)\nAnd you kept my PlayStation with some new games (Straight up)\nAnd you buy me freezy cups with your loose change (Facts)\nMy daddy never was around, that nigga too lame (Fuck \u2019em)\nI think that's why I quit school and started to shoot thangs (21)\nMy mama taught me how to tie my shoes (On God)\nMy mama taught me how to cook my noodles (Straight up)\nMama told me don't spend all my money with a jeweler\nI bought some real estate plus I'm investin' in my shooters (21, 21)\n\nHad to write a letter to my ma dukes (Ma dukes)\nI know you proud of me, but I'm proud, too (I'm proud, too)\nYou the only woman I'd give some vows to (On God)\nI\u2019m still your baby even though I got a child, too (Straight up)\nI paid it off, ain\u2019t no mortgage or no rent due (Facts)\nYes, she got a Range Rover and a Benz, too (On God)\nIt's a hard job, but women raise men, too (21)\nMa, you never left my side and I thank you (21)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI seen you strugglin\u2019, I think it left a scar (Left a scar)\nI did some things when I was young that broke your heart (Broke your heart)\nI'm the one that stole the cookies out the jar (Out the jar)\nI'm the one that went and stole the neighbor's car (Neighbor\u2019s car)\nTimes got hard, started sellin' hard (Sellin' hard)\nBefore I see you stressin', I'm gonna break the law (Break the law)\nI was sellin' weed, I never mowed the lawn (Mowed the lawn)\nCommit a burglary and take it to the pawn (Straight to the pawn)\nWhen I went to YDC you was there (On God)\nIf I had a school hearing, you was there (That's a fact)\nBack when you had the Ford minivan, let me drive to Citi Trends\nBaggy-ass Girbauds and some Timberlands (Straight up, straight up)\nMe and my baby mama was beefin', you didn't give a damn (Straight up)\nYou didn't never pick a side, told me, \"Be a man\" (Straight up)\nI'ma raise my kids, nothin' like my dad, I'm a better dad\nYou're the best mama I could ever have (On God)\n\nHad to write a letter to my ma dukes (Ma dukes)\nI know you proud of me, but I'm proud, too (I'm proud, too)\nYou the only woman I'd give some vows to (On God)\nI'm still your baby even though I got a child, too (Straight up)\nI paid it off, ain't no mortgage or no rent due (Facts)\nYes, she got a Range Rover and a Benz, too (On God)\nIt's a hard job, but women raise men, too (21)\nMa, you never left my side and I thank you (21)"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsDead People Lyrics\nI'ma handle business\nS600 big body and it's tinted, just to handle business\nPercocets they got me in my feelings\nI drive that Range Rover like it's rented\nHit 'em in the face, 'fore you turn state\nGotta beat the case, we gon' fuck your bae\nWe gon' beat her face\nWalked out of Wells Fargo and ran to Chase\nHopped out a Bentley truck and jumped inside the Wraith\nYoung Savage, I was trappin' on the back street\nAll in traffic with that ratchet on the backseat\nFrom the gutter, fake models don't attract me\nGot a project bitch, she love to get nasty\n\nI been drinkin' syrup seein' demons\nGotta keep it on me, niggas schemin'\nRight pocket full of dead people\nI been hangin' with the dead people\nI been hangin' with the dead people\nI been hangin' with the dead people\nAll my pockets full of dead people\nI done fell in love with dead people\n\nBitch you gettin' comfortable, I don't need you\nYou come around the gang, we might G you\nShe say don't nobody fuck her like we do\nYou know I share everything with my people\nMy jewelry twinkle twinkle\nDoin' donuts in the foreign while it sprinkles\nYou keep callin', I'm ignoring, bitch I'm single\nYou keep callin', bitch I'm single like a pringle\nYou know I'm fly like G4\nBitch you riding in a Pinto\nBitch you know your nigga lame like the Winslows\nI'm 21 but you know PDE my kinfolk\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI been drinkin' syrup seein' demons\nGotta keep it on me, niggas schemin'\nRight pocket full of dead people\nI been hangin' with the dead people\nI been hangin' with the dead people\nI been hangin' with the dead people\nAll my pockets full of dead people\nI done fell in love with dead people"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u200bgun smoke Lyrics\nYeah\nYeah\nYeah\nYeah (Gun smoke)\nYeah (Gun smoke)\nYeah, yeah (Gun smoke)\nYeah, yeah, yeah (Gun smoke)\nYeah, yeah\n\nOne man army from the get-go (Get-go)\nOne man army pullin' kick doors (Kick doors)\nTalkin' out yo' neck get you tag toed (Tag toed)\nI'm a killer whale, you a tadpole (Tadpole)\nNigga, you got asthma, you don't want smoke (Straight up)\nWho want cancer? I'm giving out smoke (Straight up)\nI got too many bitches, I can't trip bro (On God)\nMost of the time, I be caked up with my stick bro (On God)\nYeah, AK make yo' brotha do the limbo (On God)\nMake this Glock \"Shiggy Challenge\" out the window (On God)\nSavage, why you always rappin' 'bout guns for? (Straight up)\n'Cause, bitch, I fell in love with the gun smoke (Straight up)\n\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nYeah, gun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nPut my Glock down, that's a no-no (No-no)\nWhen I wear my suit, I tote my .44 (.44)\nY'all ain't killin' shit, y'all niggas hoes-hoes (Hoes-hoes)\nCryin' over pussy, you a broke joke (Broke joke)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nStarted with a deuce deuce, turned it to a .38\nThen I got a Glock 9, turned it to a AK\nFirst I was a leg shooter, now I'm hittin' chest, face\nShe done caught rug burn, give that girl a neck brace\nShoot at me with a handgun, that's an insult (Straight up)\nWe got plenty sticks, nigga, plus my M's up (Straight up)\nMy young niggas ready to crash, they don't give a fuck (Straight up)\nLet it bang, let 'em hang, I'ma drop mine (Straight up)\nI don't need no shooter, everybody know I pop mine (On God)\nI'm at Crucial on stage with a Glock 9 (On God)\nI keep one in the head, I ain't got time to cock mine (On God)\nMurder Gang, nigga, I'm redder than a stop sign (On God)\nYou niggas know you need to cut out all that dickriding (Bitch)\nSkinny capris, you think you finer than yo' bitch, huh? (Lil' bitch)\nYou niggas mad 'cause I keep throwin' up Zone 6, huh? (Lil' bitch)\nLike \"Look at Savage, lil' bitch ass, he think he the shit, huh?\" (Facts)\nI think I am when I'm ridin' with this stick, huh (21)\nI think I am 'cause I just fucked that nigga bitch, huh (On God)\nI swear to god my deal worth seven figures, not six, huh (Straight up)\nYou think you hard, you wanna get shot all up in yo' shit, huh?\n\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nYeah, gun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nGun smoke (Gun smoke)\nPut my Glock down, that's a no-no (No-no)\nWhen I wear my suit, I tote my .44 (.44)\nY'all ain't killin' shit, y'all niggas hoes-hoes (Hoes-hoes)\nCryin' over pussy, you a broke joke (Broke joke)"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsThug Life Lyrics\nScrape the corner, buy a Rover\nCrack inside my grandma's sofa\nSunday, family coming over\nMove the crack behind the toaster\nCarry pistols with no holsters\nTrying not to be a poster\nYou was listening to your coaches\nI was listening to the vultures\nAnd I slept with rats and roaches\nThat's why I don't smoke no roaches\nNiggas tryna knock my focus\nWonder why I'm sippin' potion\nWe happy, dawg, but we ain't joking\nBig bullets, we ain't poking\nIn that pussy, slow motion\nNigga, ain't none of my songs wrote\n\nI'm thinking to myself, you ain't gang, nigga, fuck you\nFeel like 2Pac, Thug Life, nigga, fuck you\nIf he had the password to your phone he wouldn't have cuffed you\nDog-ass bitch, I knew I never should've trust you\n\nHo, stab a nigga in the back like the streets do\nCan't believe that you betrayed me, I used to sleep with you\nNiggas quick to say they loyal to you, they be see-through\nGang, gang, screaming, \"Fuck you, they want to eat you\"\nMy son got asthma, grandma having spasms\nFuck the chatter, he gon' tattle, put 'em on the platter\nSnakes plotting on my downfall, I can hear 'em rattle\n(That fuck nigga gon' flop, man, 21 ain't even no real nigga, fuck that nigga)\nWe sticking to the G code, nigga, we ain't beefin' over freak ho's\nI hit her on the D low, yeah, she like my steelo\nThat nigga think that he a bully, do him like Craig did Deebo\n30-round hangin' out the big Glock\nNigga, no six shots, shootin' 'til the clip stops\nYou a lil' kid and I'm a big dog\nNigga, when we pullin' up the sticks out\nToo much money got 'em pissed off\nNigga, I'ma pull up at your bitch house\nFuck a niggas bitch to get a kick out it\nNigga pop percs, gon' get a kick out it\nDrinking on syrup with my dick out\nGlock-17 with the dick out\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI'm thinking to myself, you ain't gang, nigga, fuck you\nFeel like 2Pac, Thug Life, nigga, fuck you\nIf he had the password to your phone he wouldn't have cuffed you\nDog-ass bitch, I knew I never should've trust you\n\nWhat you want, ho, I got what you want, ho\nWhat you want, ho, I got what you want, ho\nWhat you want, ho, I got what you want, ho\nWhat you want, ho, I got what you want, ho\n\nAll my tint presidential, like I'm Trump, dawg\nSecret service shooters, leave 'em niggas slumped, dawg\nDenzel, I get surgical with this pump, dawg\nBusting down, breaking down, then I put it in a blunt, dawg\nMade man stamped, I got \"21\" stamped\nIn my face, teetee and taytay in the same count\nI was down, bad and now I'm shining like a lamp\nYou put a ring on her, she ain't nothing but a tramp\nThey kicked me outta middle school and sent me to the house\nWe 'bout that gunplay, nigga, motherfuck your count\n19, I bought a Cutlass, four 12's and an AMP\nBeating down Glenwood, nigga, feeling like a champ\nNigga, we ain't takin' no deals\nLil' nigga, we ain't snitchin', we ain't making no sound\nUsed to jump niggas, now we jumping in a crowd\nUsed to make my mama cry, but now I make her proud\nI remember rainy days but now she like the sound\nI'm thinking to myself, you ain't gang, nigga, fuck you\nFeel like 2Pac, Thug Life, nigga, fuck you\nIf he had the password to your phone he wouldn't have cuffed you\nDog-ass bitch, I knew I never should've trust you\n\nHo, stab a nigga in the back like the streets do\nCan't believe that you betrayed me, I used to sleep with you\nNiggas quick to say they loyal to you, they be see-through\nGang, gang, screaming, \"Fuck you, they want to eat you\""}
{"text":"72 ContributorsClose My Eyes Lyrics\nLot of shots (Yeah, yeah)\nLot of shots (Lot of shots)\n30s on Glocks (Hollow tips)\n30 shots (How I came)\nLot of shots (How I came)\nLot of shots (Four, five)\n30s on Glocks (TEC-9)\nLot of shots (Yeah, yeah)\n30s on Glocks (Lot of, what?)\nPut you on Fox (Hold up, what?)\nNigga we ain't goin' (Fox 5)\nLot of shots (Breaking news)\n30s on Glocks (Red shirts)\n30s on Glocks\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you\n\nLot of shots, hold up\n30s on Glocks, hold up\nPut you on Fox, hold up\nPut 'em in a casket, yeah\nPull up on a Banshee, yeah\nNigga, fuck your handshake, yeah\nFeel like I'm the last real rapper 'cause these niggas weird\nNah, these niggas queers\nSippin' Act, Cheers\nIn my own lane, nigga, watch where you steer\nThink I got 'em scared, shot 'em in the beard\nThat's a chin check, I'm certified everywhere\nMan, I'm certified for real, nigga\nNah, for real, nigga\nUsed to record right on deal, nigga\nNah, for real, nigga\nPillow talking get you killed, nigga\nNah, for real, nigga\nBronx niggas say I'm ill nigga\nNah, for real, nigga\nBought a pawn shop for real, bitch\nNah, for real, bitch\nKeep my gun cocked for real, bitch\nNah, for real, bitch\nNigga, we bond drop for real, bitch\nNah, for real, bitch\nCut your lawns off for real, bitch\nNah, for real, bitch\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI don't wanna go to sleep, I'm way too high, dawg\nI can't get no sleep, I swear I'm way too high, dawg\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dawg\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dawg\nPeel a hotbox when it's time to ride, dawg\nIf you froze up last time, then you can't ride, dawg\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dawg\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dawg\n\nMolly make ya' jaws lock\nNah, for real, dawg\nThis bitch done got me pissed off\nNeed a pill, dawg\nTryna make a brick lock, whip your wrist, dawg\nTryna make a brick lock, whip your wrist, dawg\nI bought a 9 and he front a 9, that's a half a brick\nGot a 'Rari nigga in the back still in the 6\nWe was young, you was on the swing, I was playin' with sticks\nIn the trap, listenin' for the brakes on a Crown Vic\nHear the motherfucker squeak, we gon' hit the cut\nTrickin' niggas in the spot, we gon' stick 'em up\nFox Five gang, coroner gon' pick 'em up\nBreaking news gang, nigga, put your trigger finger up\nYeah, all my niggas throwed off\nDrive by, shoot your doors off\nTurn your four-door to a coupe, nigga\nYeah, knock the noodles out your soup, nigga\nYeah, Zone 6 niggas love to shoot niggas\nYeah, you heard 'bout it\nNigga, we ain't worried 'bout ya\nHang around real shottas, hang around real robbers\nY'all nigga real killers, pullin' up real yoppas\nI don't wanna go to sleep, I'm way too high, dawg\nI can't get no sleep, I swear I'm way too high, dawg\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dawg\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dawg\nPeel a hotbox when it's time to ride, dawg\nIf you froze up last time, then you can't ride, dawg\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dawg\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dawg\n\nGo against the gang, that's like suicide, dawg (Yeah)\nGo against the gang, that's like suicide, dawg (21)\nWalk-ups only, we don't shoot and drive, dawg\nWe woke the neighbors up, at first the street was quiet, dawg\nHave you ever did a real homicide, nigga?\nHave you ever made a nigga mama cry, nigga?\nDo or die nigga gotta do or die, nigga (21)\nIf you ain't the one doing it, you gon' die, nigga (21)\nSometimes I look at God and I wonder, \"Why?,\" nigga\nWhy my niggas had to be the ones that died, nigga? (Why?)\nThey killed one, we gon' kill five, nigga (Facts)\nWinter time, we gon' set your block on fire, nigga (On God)\nYeah, yeah, like the 4th July, nigga (21)\nBroad day, lettin' them bullets fly, nigga (Pow-pow-pow-pow)\nPull up with a stick like I'm Sah, nigga\nGang gang, dare a nigga to try it, nigga\nI don't wanna go to sleep, I'm way too high, dog\nI can't get no sleep, I swear I'm way too high, dog\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog\nPeel a hotbox when it's time to ride, dog\nIf you froze up last time, then you can't ride, dog\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog\nI see dead bodies when I close my eyes, dog"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsDirty K Lyrics\nKnife in my face, .30 on my waist\nReal street nigga, and I keep a Dirty 'K\nHit my first lick, and I found 30k\nBut I blew the shit, bitch, I do this shit\nYou can go and ask the streets, 'cause they know this shit\nI got your bitch blowing dick, like a hookah stick\nAnd I'm still trapping, and I'm still rapping\nI'm 21 Savage, you pussy-niggas average\n\nYou pussy niggas average, y'all niggas so basic\nI got AK-47's, I'll give your ass a face lift\nHave you dodging bullets, like Neo on The Matrix\nSkrrt, skrrt, scrape the bowl like grits\nSkrrt, skrrt, skrrt\nI pew, pew, pew, pussy-boy 'til you hit\nPew, pew, pew, pew, pew\nYou been rapping all your life, and you still ain't made a hit\nI'm Slaughter Gang Savage, give a fuck about a hit\nI grab that AK-47, and I let it hit\nPull up on your block, watch them pussy-niggas dip\nYou say you 'bout that action, but you pussy-niggas dip\nYou know if you don't pull up on the ave, you getting dip\nI hit that ho for 'bout a hour, then I had to dip\nThat money keep on calling, saying bring your ass here\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nKnife in my face, .30 on my waist\nReal street nigga, and I keep a Dirty 'K\nHit my first lick, and I found 30k\nBut I blew the shit, bitch, I do this shit\nYou can go and ask the streets, 'cause they know this shit\nI got your bitch blowing dick, like a hookah stick\nAnd I'm still trapping, and I'm still rapping\nI'm 21 Savage, you pussy-niggas average\n\nKnife in my face, pistol at your temple\nGlow, blow, blow, Slaughter Gang drop a nigga\nAnd we snatching chains, and these niggas lame\nAnd these niggas average, they ain't having stain\nI got your main bitch with me and she on the dick\nTook her to the slaughter house and let her meet the savages\nAll my niggas having it they really counting cash\nCatch a down bag, gang-banging red flag\nIf you want it you can get it I can show you how to make it\nPut your wrists inside the bowl and swirl it in rotation\nI got to keep a dirty 'K, my dope it came from Haiti\nPlug tried to take me, so you know I had to take it\n\nKnife in my face, .30 on my waist\nReal street nigga, and I keep a Dirty 'K\nHit my first lick, and I found 30k\nBut I blew the shit, bitch, I do this shit\nYou can go and ask the streets, 'cause they know this shit\nI got your bitch blowing dick, like a hookah stick\nAnd I'm still trapping, and I'm still rapping\nI'm 21 Savage, you pussy-niggas average"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u200bpad lock Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, dawg\nThis shit real, dawg\nNiggas kill, dawg\nKeep the steel, dawg\nOr be a long-live dog\nStraight up\n\nI'm hangin' with killers, serial (Straight up)\nStill in the hood eatin' cereal (Straight up)\nI pray to these streets like they biblical (Straight up)\nJump off the rope, Rey Mysterio (Straight up)\nTwo ounces stashed in my stereo (On God)\nYou can get killed for subliminals (On God)\nI'm a big dog, you a Cheerio (On God)\nI don't gotta talk loud, but you hear me though (Straight up)\nCatch him down bad in traffic (21)\nWay before the deal, I was trappin' (21)\nWay before the deal, I was puttin' that fire on niggas just to feed my family (On God)\n21 gang, I'm a bandit (Straight up)\nI ain't have a father, he abandoned (21)\nMe and mine, swear I went and picked up a lil' bit of weed and a nine (Yeah)\nPartner damn near did a dime (Yeah)\nAnd he still got another nine (Yeah)\nSent my boy 100 racks in the chain gang, nigga, 'cause money is time (On God)\nLately, I been on my grind (Straight up)\n25 hundred on wine (Facts)\n50 thousand on a suit, it's a good investment\nYeah, 'cause the deal worth dyin' (21)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nHeart so cold, got a padlock, padlock\n(Padlock, padlock, padlock, padlock, padlock)\nHe ain't in the field, he a mascot, mascot\n(Mascot, mascot, mascot, mascot, mascot)\nChasin' this money, I can't stop, won't stop\n(Can't stop, won't stop, can't stop, won't stop, won't stop)\nChasin' this money, I can't stop, won't stop\n(Can't stop, won't stop, can't stop, won't stop, won't stop)\nHeart so cold, got a padlock, padlock\n(Padlock, padlock, padlock, padlock, padlock)\nHe ain't in the field, he a mascot, mascot\n(Mascot, mascot, mascot, mascot, mascot)\nChasin' this money, I can't stop, won't stop\n(Can't stop, won't stop, can't stop, won't stop, won't stop)\nMake more than a teacher, I'ma drop out, drop out\n\nI got rich nigga problems (Rich nigga)\nTryna put a 50 in my joggers (Won't fit nigga)\nKnew you was a rat when we was toddlers (You a snitch, nigga)\nYou was always the cop, I was the robber (Lil' bitch nigga)\nBorn to be a leader, not follow (Follow)\nSeventeen with a Monte Carlo (Carlo)\nY'all was in the house playin' Mario (Mario)\nI was sellin' weed and went hollow (Went hollow)\nThat's just how we was raised (On God)\nBefore we came of age (Straight up)\nY'all niggas wanted some pets (21)\nMy niggas wanted some Ks (On God)\nI had to sell a lil weed to hit the flea market and buy some fake Ye's (Straight up)\nThat's where I bought my first grill (On God)\nThat's where I bought my first J's (On God)\n'Member when my mama was stressed (Damn)\nLook at your son, now I'm paid (Goddamn)\nShe ain't really worry 'bout harm\nShe worry 'bout jail 'cause she know I don't play (Yes, ma'am)\nShe remember days, two-bedroom, Mini-14, and a SK (21)\nI could leave today, she know that I'ma take a nigga with me 'cause she know I'm gon' spray (On God)\nHeart so cold, got a padlock, padlock\n(Padlock, padlock, padlock, padlock, padlock)\nHe ain't in the field, he a mascot, mascot\n(Mascot, mascot, mascot, mascot, mascot)\nChasin' this money, I can't stop, won't stop\n(Can't stop, won't stop, can't stop, won't stop, won't stop)\nChasin' this money, I can't stop, won't stop\n(Can't stop, won't stop, can't stop, won't stop, won't stop)\nHeart so cold, got a padlock, padlock\n(Padlock, padlock, padlock, padlock, padlock)\nHe ain't in the field, he a mascot, mascot\n(Mascot, mascot, mascot, mascot, mascot)\nChasin' this money, I can't stop, won't stop\n(Can't stop, won't stop, can't stop, won't stop, won't stop)\nMake more than a teacher, I'ma drop out, drop out"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsBad Business Lyrics\nYeah, lil' bitch, yeah\nKnow what goin' on, lil' bitch, yeah\nBig dawg, lil' bitch\nYeah, come suck a big dick, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, ah, ah\nOw, wow, wow, wow (Keep that)\nWoah, woah, woah, woah, yeah\n\nHellcat speed racin' (Speed racin')\nSuck it 'til your knees achin' (Knees achin')\nBitch, I ain't got no patience (No patience)\nI'm finna take a baecation (A baecation)\nSaint Laurent jacket, thirty-five dawg (Yeah)\nCartier shades, twenty-five dawg (Yeah)\nYou ready to tell, I can see it in your eyes dawg (Yeah)\nI ain't got no license, but I still drive, dawg (Yeah)\nTwo hundred on the dash, real fast, yeah (21, 21)\nProject bitch, real ass, yeah (Real ass)\nOn that Glenwood I made a lot of cash, yeah (Real cash)\nAt the bottom, up in Hollow sellin' bags, yeah (Real bags)\nYou niggas got me fucked up, you got me twisted (Yeah)\nI pull it out the boxers and then she lick it (Yeah)\nI'm smoking on some moonrock, this shit is sticky (Yeah)\nThere go the state troopers, I'm finna hit it (Skrrt)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nDo the dash in it (21), throw some cash in it (Yeah)\nLet me smash in it (Yeah), I'll smash in it (Yeah)\nRun a train on her, let me tag my mans in it (Yeah)\nPour some Henny in her cup and put some Xans in it (Yeah)\n\nBitch, I'm bad business (21), bitch, I'm bad business (Woah)\nBitch, I'm bad business (Woah), bitch, I'm bad business (Woah, woah)\nBitch, I'm bad business (Woah), bitch, I'm bad business (Yeah)\nBitch, I'm bad business (Yeah), bitch, I'm bad business (Yeah)\n\nNiggas talk (21), hoes talk (Lil' bitch)\nThirty on the Glock, let the poles talk (21, 21)\nParty on the yacht, brought the hoes out (21, 21)\nAll my niggas on the yacht, y'all so not (Yeah)\nI'm in the Hellcat doin' donuts (Yeah)\nYour baby mama sleepin' on the blow-up (Blow-up)\nMad Max, nigga, what the bloodclaat (The bloodclaat)\n.45 leave you with a blood clot (A blood clot)\nSavage 'round killers, nigga, oh shit (Oh shit)\nPercocets and lean, that's my dosage (Facts)\nI heard you got them bags, get your door kicked (Smash)\nFour four two with the floor shift (Rah)\nDo the dash in it (Yeah), throw some cash in it (Yeah)\nLet me smash in it (Woah), I'll smash in it (I'll smash)\nRun a train on her, let me tag my mans in it (My mans)\nPour some Henny in her cup and put some Xans in it (Xans)\n\nBitch, I'm bad business (Yeah), bitch, I'm bad business (Yeah)\nBitch, I'm bad business (Yeah), bitch, I'm bad business (Yeah)\nBitch, I'm bad business (Yeah), bitch, I'm bad business (Yeah)\nBitch, I'm bad business (Yeah), bitch, I'm bad business (Yeah)\n\nAlright"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsMind Yo Business Lyrics\nI can tell these nigga's scared, the way they talk\nGold pyrex, I put diamonds on my fork\nPull up on your block, white chalk\nChopper bullets skate, Tony Hawk\nI'ma cut your fingers off if you shout\nPop a perc', hit the cup, nigga, pause\nHundred round drum, 'round of applause\nBitches know I got that bag, Santa Claus\nI drink lean and I pop Xans\nSlaughter Gang, we the Glock clan\nPoppin' molly, nigga, Santan'\nI'm back on that bullshit again\nI wanna fuck your best friend\nI just went a bought a brand new Benz\nBitch, I came from the bottom\nWe was starving, we was robbing\n\nMind your business, bitch, mind your business, bitch\nMind your business, bitch, mind your business, bitch\nWe ain't with that friendly shit\nThat friendly shit, that friendly shit\nThat friendly shit\nCatch 'em out back, roll the window down and smash\nAnother toe-tagged nigga laying in the grass\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nFive shooters in the back of the Uber, nigga, and they ready to shoot\nI tie my laces, I dip in that bag, nigga, and I take me a blue\nI'm the Slaughter King, nigga, I don't give a fuck about you\nYou get you some money, you get you some fame, these bitches gon' come out the blue\nBullet holes in my body, paranoid, I'ma pop it\nIf you snitchin', I'ma pop it, wrong move, I'ma drop it\n.15 in my sock, trappin' at the bus stop\nCame from a nickel rock, now I got a whole block\n\nMind your business, bitch, mind your business, bitch\nMind your business, bitch, mind your business, bitch\nWe ain't with that friendly shit\nThat friendly shit, that friendly shit\nThat friendly shit\nCatch 'em out back, roll the window down and smash\nAnother toe-tagged nigga laying in the grass"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olSecret Lyrics\nGot a darkskin girl, 5' 8\" with the brown eyes\nWe been up and down, had\u2005a\u2005couple crashes but\u2005she still ride\nShe go to school,\u2005got two jobs, drive the same Kia 'cause it still\u205fslide\nWork\u205fso\u205fhard on her\u205foff day, she\u205fbe still tired\nI just wanna take away the pain\nI just wanna put you up on game\nI just wanna help you make you better, wish you would've never gave it to that lame\nEven if we do our own thang, the bond we got can't be explained\nGirl, I'm just speakin' for future reference (Oh, oh), 'cause I understand feelings change (Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah)\n\nYou're my little secret (Secret)\nThat's how we should keep it (How we should keep it)\nWe should never let it go, never let it show\nYou're my, you're my, oh yeah\n\nI don't care what these hoes think that they got goin' on\nI've been here day one, I know what's goin' on\nYou ain't gotta try to tell me, like I know my place\nI never went too far, I always find my way, back to you\nAin't no way I could lose you\nSometimes it's just things in life just worth keepin'\nWhy we ain't creepin'?\nI'm just your little secret\nThat's how we should keep it, yeah, babe\n'Cause you know and I know\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nYou're my little secret (Secret)\nThat's how we should keep it (How we should keep it)\nWe should never let it go, never let it show\nYou're my, you're my, oh yeah\n\nI hope you had a dream 'bout me\n'Cause I had a dream 'bout you\nHope you been thinking 'bout me\n'Cause I been thinking 'bout you\nGirl, I'm tryna make you my wife\nI done told the thots, \"I'm through\"\nIf you ever leave my side, I'ma probably lose my cool\nWe was in high school and your friends said that it won't work\nFrom the sixth grade to the ninth grade, she did my homework\nPut my pistol in your book bag, you ain't even own a purse\nYou done held me down from the jumpstart, you deserve a verse\nYou my little secret (You my little secret)\nThat's how we gon' keep it (That's how we gon' keep it)\nGot done gamblin', feelin' like Michael, now I'm finna beat it\n'Cause I like a couple pictures on Instagram that don't mean I'm cheatin'\n'Cause I'm hangin' out with my dawgs late night that don't mean I'm cheatin'\n\nOh-oh, oh, yeah-yeah, yeah\nYou're my little secret\nAnd that's how we should keep it\nWe should never let it, never let it show\n'Cause you know and I know\nYou're my little secret (Yeah, yeah)\nThat's how we should keep it (Yeah)\nWe should never let it go, never let it show (Oh yeah)\nIf you know, like I know\nWe should never let it go"}
{"text":"22 Contributors\u200b\u200ba lot (Video Version) Lyrics\nI love you\nTurn my headphone down a little bit, yeah\nFor so many reasons\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (I do), yeah, yeah yeah yeah\nYeah, yeah, ah, ah, whoa, whoa, whoa, yeah\n\nHow much money you got? (Straight up)\nHow much money you got? (Straight up)\nHow much money you got? (Straight up)\nHow much money you got? (A lot)\n\nHow much money you got? (A lot)\nHow many problems you got? (A lot)\nHow many people done doubted you? (A lot)\nLeft you out to rot? (A lot)\nHow many pray that you flop? (A lot)\nHow many lawyers you got? (A lot)\nHow many times you got shot? (A lot)\nHow many niggas you shot? (A lot)\nHow many times did you ride? (A lot)\nHow many niggas done died? (A lot)\nHow many times did you cheat? (A lot)\nHow many times did you lie? (A lot)\nHow many times did she leave? (A lot)\nHow many times did she cry? (A lot)\nHow many chances she done gave you fuckin around with these thots? (A lot)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nEvery day that I'm alive, I'ma ride with the stick\nI'd rather be broke in jail than be dead and rich\nTold my brothers take my breath if I turn to a snitch\nBut I'm 21 4L, ain't no way I'ma switch\n\nBreak it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\n\nPenitentiary chances just to make a couple bucks\nMy heart so cold I could put it in my cup\nGang vs. the world, me and my dawg, it was us\nThen you went and wrote a statement, and that really fucked me up\nMy brother lost his life and it turned me to a beast\nMy brother got life and it turned me to the streets\nI been through the storm and it turned me to a G\nBut the other side was sunny, I get paid to rap on beats\n\nHow much money you got? (A lot)\nHow many problems you got? (A lot)\nHow many people done doubted you? (A lot)\nLeft you out to rot? (A lot)\nHow many pray that you flop? (A lot)\nHow many lawyers you got? (A lot)\nHow many times you got shot? (A lot)\nHow many niggas you shot? (A lot)\nHow many times did you ride? (A lot)\nHow many niggas done died? (A lot)\nHow many times did you cheat? (A lot)\nHow many times did you lie? (A lot)\nHow many times did she leave? (A lot)\nHow many times did she cry? (A lot)\nHow many chances she done gave you?\nFuck around with these thots (A lot)\nBreak it on down, I break it on down\nI break it on down, I break it on down\nYeah, I just came from the A\nI drove back home, six-hour drive, six-and-a-half\nBefore I left I stopped by to see my nigga 21 in the studio\nHe had two of his kids with him right in the studio, that's when I knew\nYou a stand up nigga, I love seein' shit like that\nQuestion\nHow many faking they streams? (A lot)\nGetting they plays from machines? (A lot)\nI can see behind the smoke and mirrors\nNiggas ain't really big as they seem (Hmm)\nI never say anything (Nah), everybody got they thing (True)\nSome niggas make millions, other niggas make memes (Hmm)\nI'm on a money routine\nI don't want smoke, I want cream\nI don't want no more comparisons\nThis is a marathon and I'm aware\nI been playing a bet from a lack of promotions\nI never was one for the bragging and boasting\nI guess I was hoping the music would speak for itself, but the people want everything else\nOkay, no problem, I'll show up on everyone album\nYou know what the outcome will be\nI'm batting a thousand\nIt's got to the point that these rappers don't even like rappin' with me\nFuck it 'cause my nigga 21 Savage just hit me\nAnd told me he saved me a spot on a new record he got\nHe call it \"a lot,\" I open my book and I jot\nPray for Tekashi, they want him to rot\nI picture him inside a cell on a cot\n'Flectin' on how he made it to the top\nWondering if it was worth it or not\nI pray for Markelle 'cause they fucked up his shot\nJust want you to know that you got it, my nigga\nThough I never met you, I know that you special\nAnd that the Lord blessed you, don't doubt it, my nigga\nDennis Smith, Jr., stay solid, my nigga\nI'm on a tangent, not how I planned it\nI had some fans that hopped and abandoned ship\nWhen they thought that I wasn't gone pan out, I got a plan\nThey say that success is the greatest revenge, tell all your friends\nCole on a mission, cementin' the spot as the greatest that did it\nBefore it all ends, nigga\nHow much money you got? (A lot)\nHow many problems you got? (A lot)\nHow many people done doubted you? (A lot)\nLeft you out to rot? (A lot)\nHow many pray that you flop? (A lot)\nHow many lawyers you got? (A lot)\nHow many times you got shot? (A lot)\nHow many niggas you shot? (A lot)\nHow many times did you ride? (A lot)\nHow many niggas done died? (A lot)\nHow many times did you cheat? (A lot)\nHow many times did you lie? (A lot)\nHow many times did she leave? (A lot)\nHow many times did she cry? (A lot)\nHow many chances she done gave you?\nFuck around with these thots (A lot)\n\nTake a dive, put away my pride (Away my pride)\nShoot my shot, DMs, yeah, I slide (Yeah I slide)\nShe in front, but she used to be my side (Be my side)\nWe take selfies now, I used to in her live (In her live)\nBefore the fame, plan B was robbin' banks (Robbin' banks)\nBe a married man, right now I just can't (I just can't)\nAll the love they gave me, knew that it was fake (It was fake)\nMama love me so much, either way I'm straight (Way I'm straight)\nI done seen so many handshakes turn to hate (Turn to hate)\nSeen so many BFs turn s-n-a-k (Turn a snakes)\nDeath before dishonor tatted on my face (On my face)\nWay I run the check up, should've been with Chase (Been with Chase)\nStart at the bottom, the trenches, the gutters, so I had to go little harder (Straight up)\nLights was out, the gas was off, so we had to boil up the water (Straight up)\nBeen through some things, but I couldn't imagine my kids stuck at the border (Straight up)\nFlint still need water (Straight up)\nNiggas was innocent, couldn't get lawyers (On God)\n\nHow much money you got? (A lot)\nHow many problems you got? (A lot)\nHow many people done doubted you? (A lot)\nLeft you out to rot? (A lot)\nHow many pray that you flop? (A lot)\nHow many lawyers you got? (A lot)\nHow many times you got shot? (A lot)\nHow many niggas you shot? (A lot)\nHow many times did you ride? (A lot)\nHow many niggas done died? (A lot)\nHow many times did you cheat? (A lot)\nHow many times did you lie? (A lot)\nHow many times did she leave? (A lot)\nHow many times did she cry? (A lot)\nHow many chances she done gave you?\nFuck around with these thots (A lot)\n\nBreak it on down, I break it on down\nI break it on down, I break it on down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it on down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down\nI break it down, I break it down, I br-"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsMoney Convo Lyrics\nPeon-ass niggas (Whoa)\nLevis and Adidas ass niggas (Ha, ha, ha)\nHi-Point having ass niggas (What)\nI got a Glock and it don't jam my blast niggas (Facts)\nYou a lovey dovey buy a ring nigga (What)\nI'm the type to pass her to the team, nigga\nYou went and bought that bitch C\u00e9line, nigga? (21)\nNow she fuckin' me, I know you wanna kill her (Ha, ha)\nAnd I sold dope on my 10 toes\nWe ain't fallin' out over freak hoes (On god)\n21 Savage still in savage mode (On god)\nI thought I told you I'm a savage on these hoes (On god)\nMaybach with the curtains up (21)\nI'm with Nudy, he gon' burn you up (Slime)\nFake gangbangin', nigga turned into a snitch (Huh)\nWent against that 21, I left him in a ditch\n\nPull up\nWe like gas, we like gas, gas, gas (Gas)\nHol' up\nWe like cash, we like cash, cash, cash (Cash)\nHol' up\nWanna fuck me, I'm like yas, yas, yas (Yas)\nHol' up\nVVS' drippin', dance, dance, dance (21)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nMoney conversations, money conversations, money convo\nMoney conversations, money conversations, money convo\nMoney conversations, money conversations, money convo\nMoney conversations, money conversations, money convo\n\nBitch I came straight from the bottom, nigga and I'm still humble (21)\nAuto start my whip before I dip, I let that bitch rumble (21)\nAK-47s, M16s, they gon' sting, bumble (Sting)\nGot your main bitch with me bent over eatin' meat, gumbo\n\nMoney talk, yeah, nigga, cash talk, yeah, nigga (21)\nRidin' 'round with that yappa tryna duck the feds, nigga (21)\nOh you drinkin' green? Nope, only drink that red, nigga (Red)\nOnly fuck the bad hoes, buy my cars with cash, ho\nNiggas know I blast off, pull up with the mask off\nAir it out like aerosol, I robbed Peter and Paul\nBought a 488, finna act an asshole\nI've been gettin' so much money, they think I sold my damn soul\nYou a fake gangsta, you ain't ever shot nobody\nI don't wanna hear them stories 'bout them fake bodies (21)\nYoung Savage send a hit like John Gotti (Gotti)\nNigga get whacked, thinkin' they hard 'cause they on molly (Bitch)\nI'm the Saint Laurent Don, love to cash out (Cash out)\nYou a dick jumpin' faggot, you a mascot (Bitch)\nYou beat your bitch 'cause she walk 'round with her ass out (Yeah)\nThey wanna rob me 'cause I walk 'round with that bag out (Facts)\nDrinkin' syrup, lil' bitch, I'm finna pass out\nNever slippin', Glock 40 with a red dot (Facts)\nSeven figure nigga, money all I talk about (Cash)\nYou ain't talkin' 'bout no money, what ya talkin' 'bout?\nMoney conversations, money conversations, money convo\nMoney conversations, money conversations, money convo\nMoney conversations, money conversations, money convo\nMoney conversations, money conversations, money convo\n\nBitch I came straight from the bottom, nigga and I'm still humble\nAuto start my whip before I dip, I let that bitch rumble\nAK-47s, M16s, they gon' sting, bumble\nGot your main bitch with me bent over eatin' meat, gumbo\n\nMetro Boomin want some more, nigga"}
{"text":"23 ContributorsAir It Out Lyrics\nZaytoven\n21 Savage\n\nPull up and air it out (out)\nPull up and air it out (Air that shit out)\nPull up and air it out (21)\nPull up and air it out (out)\nPull up and air it out (pew pew)\nPull up and air it out (pew pew pew pew)\nPull up and air it out (Grr)\nPull up and air it out (Grrrrrra)\nGot that .30 on me now (now)\nGot that .30 on me now (a what?)\nPull up and air it out (a out)\nPull up and air it out (Air that shit out)\nI got the stick on me now (21)\nI got the stick on me now (21)\nPull up and air shit out (pew pew)\nI pull up and air shit out (pew pew pew pew)\n\nI pull up and air shit out (I do)\nI pull up and dick your ho down (I do)\nYoung Savage, bitch, I got pounds (got pounds)\nYoung Savage, bitch, I got rounds (got rounds)\nPull up and shoot up your town (your town)\nPew, pew (Grrrt, bah) pew-pew, (Bah) pew, (Bop-bop-bop-bop) frtttttt, fah (Grah, bop)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nSlaughter Gang, bitch, we go brazy (go brazy)\nPDE, bitch, they go brazy (go brazy)\nDrinkin' on lean got me lazy\nGlock .40, no .380's\nI'm cookin' up dope in this town\nYou need a new pistol it jammed\nI don't fuck around with the Xans\nI'm dripping, lil' bitch, I don't dab\nYour bitch a lil' freak, ouch (ouch)\nI fuck her one time, bounce (Ha-ha, ha, ha)\nStill got the choppa 'round my motherfucking shoulder (Bitch)\nStill that same nigga, I just got a little older (Bitch)\n\nPull up and air it out (out)\nPull up and air it out (Air that shit out)\nPull up and air it out (21)\nPull up and air it out (out)\nPull up and air it out (pew pew)\nPull up and air it out (pew pew pew pew)\nPull up and air it out (Grr)\nPull up and air it out (Grrrrrra)\nGot that .30 on me now (now)\nGot that .30 on me now (a what?)\nPull up and air it out (a out)\nPull up and air it out (Air that shit out)\nI got the stick on me now (21)\nI got the stick on me now (21)\nPull up and air shit out (pew pew)\nI pull up and air shit out (pew pew pew pew)\nI got the stick on me now\nPull up and air that bitch out\nGlock 17 on me now\nYoung nigga shoot up your house\nWhat that shit you talkin' 'bout?\nLook how that .30 hang out\nWalk through the motherfucking crowd\nPussy nigga, shut your mouth\nAll of my young niggas killas\nPDE, nigga, drug dealers\nNah, we don't fuck with you niggas\nGet your ass slaughtered, lil' nigga\nI keep them 5th's on my pistols\nI keep a hold on my stick\nWhen that bitch click, I don't miss\nOne to the head and I hit\nBitch land straight in your temple\nI told you, \"Don't fuck wit' me, nigga\"\nShawty be popping them niggas\nShawty be dropping them niggas\nNow they called cops on a nigga\n'Cause they couldn't stop a lil' nigga\nRight at the bottom, lil' nigga\nPDE, Slaughter Gang, nigga\nPull up and air it out (out)\nPull up and air it out (Air that shit out)\nPull up and air it out (21)\nPull up and air it out (out)\nPull up and air it out (pew pew)\nPull up and air it out (pew pew pew pew)\nPull up and air it out (Grr)\nPull up and air it out (Grrrrrra)\nGot that .30 on me now (now)\nGot that .30 on me now (a what?)\nPull up and air it out (a out)\nPull up and air it out (Air that shit out)\nI got the stick on me now (21)\nI got the stick on me now (21)\nPull up and air shit out (pew pew)\nI pull up and air shit out (pew pew pew pew)"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsLord Forgive Me Lyrics\n(Fuck 12)\n\nA hundred a zip and I'm sippin' on drop\nI hit for a hunnid and I bought me a drop\nI pulled up on her and panties just drop\nUp 32 shots and you niggas gon' drop\nOff with your top (Head), give a fuck 'bout your block 1-2\nHigh speed chasing, give a fuck 'bout the cops\nWhen I see 12, put the dope in my sock\nNiggas be rappin', I came up off rocks\nI'm thuggin', Im thuggin', I feel like I'm 'Pac\nThey tried to betray me\nI'm mad at myself 'cause I keep it real with all these niggas\nNiggas actin' like bitches, niggas all in they feelings\nThese niggas acting like women\nDrowning in money, I'm swimmin'\nThese bitches acting like pigeons\nI just want a couple million, I just want a couple million\nAnd I'm still loyal to the gang\nThese other niggas, man, they lame\nI really sold cocaine, Gas stank propane\nGlock .40, nigga bang, Blood, Crip, nigga, bang\nI heard you got your chain took and had to get another damn chain\n21, nigga, the gang, slaughter your daughter, the gang\nMAC 90 got range, young savage got aim\nI bought a new Rollie, it's plain, you niggas best stay in your lane\nI pull up and fuck on your main\nI'm covered in money, I'm drippin'\nThese niggas they telling, they snitchin'\nSo we gon' fuck on all they bitches, I be 'round lot of henchmen\nMoving like I'm John Gotti, 12 gauge, nigga, shotty\nHit 'em all in the body, I just caught another body\nLord, forgive me, I'm sorry, I can't help it, I'm a street nigga\nI had to get some money, I watched my momma struggle\nI jumped off the porch, had to use my muscle\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nLord forgive me, lord forgive me, lord\nThey keep askin' why I got that sword in my face (Tayman)\nLord forgive me, lord forgive me, lord\nI just beat another case\nI just went and bought a Wraith\nI just nutted on her face\nBrand new rollie with the face\nNo face, no case\n\nLord, forgive me for my sins, I was struggling, tryna win\nI had to lose a lot of friends, nigga, tryna chase them Ms\nCooking up crack, it's illegal, riding with a Desert Eagle\nI'm a felon, that's illegal, main bitch, she illegal\nHunnid pounds of Cali' reefer, Call of Duty heat seeker\nPull up on your in a Regal, window down, nigga, creeping\nNigga rapping? I'm preachin', nigga, we are not equal\nIn the trenches, niggas beefing, I remember not sleeping\nHit the club and get to squeezing, shoot it up for no reason\nI was living like a demon, I was living like a demon\n\nNow I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord, my soul to keep\nIf I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take\nLord, forgive me, Lord, forgive me, Lord\nThey keep askin' why I got that sword in my face (Tayman)\nLord, forgive me, Lord, forgive me, lord\nI just beat another case\nI just went and bought a Wraith\nI just nutted on her face\nBrand new Rollie with the face\nNo face, no case"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1olPortugu\u00eas3AM on Glenwood Lyrics\nWoah, I get rid of all the smoke like Ozium\nShorty got that real jelly, yeah, petroleum\nNiggas actin' like my kids and they be older than him\nCan't believe they killed Skiney, I really growed up with him\nI'ma leave a lot of niggas covered in roses for him\nSpray the witness, I ain't leavin' no Jehovah for them\nWon a GRAMMY and I couldn't even show it to him\nPut my face inside a line up, niggas know that I'm him\nAnybody speakin' on my brothers got stepped on\nPull up from the three like St\u0435phen\nAnd the coupe bald-h\u0435aded like the other Stephon\nPut my kids in private school so they could get they prep on\nThink my heart made out of Teflon\nWhat? What? Think my heart bulletproof\nYou ain't got a mask, I can show you what a hoodie do\nPull the string tight 'til your eyelids covered too\nI think they on the left, roll the window, hit the lights, boom\nEverybody wish they switched sides when we comin' through\nEverybody wish they was inside when we comin' through\nI pray that you ain't on the other side when we comin' through\nPTSD and I mean it\nNigga, Johnny got killed and I seen it\nI can't fight with these demons\nTop shotta, nigga, I got gunfire for these demons\nHope you know you gotta stand on all that shit you been tweetin'\nTook some real niggas from me, I could kill the whole world and I still won't be even\nI be thinkin' 'bout my brothers while I'm shoppin' in Neiman's\nReal gangster, when I'm gone, carve my name in the cement\nWatch these hoes when you rich, they play games with the semen\nTrials and tribulations, I face them\nProsecutors probably wanna case him\nSee my opps, I jump out and chase them\nI ain't Charleston White, nigga, I'll never Mace them\nLove for all my artists, nigga, I'll never Mase them\nShit, that's probably why they hate him\nTryna get my brother out of jail, I'm like, \"Hey, Kim\"\nCut from a different cloth, he never let it break him\nLook at my advance, it make me wonder, would I make them?\nBut I own my masters, so I can't do shit but thank them\nVideo visits, he be smilin' on FaceTime\nPassionate, I'm talkin' with my hands, these ain't gang signs\nYou don't know Larry, Tayman, or CJ, you ain't one of mine\nBraids on my neck, nigga, I ain't got no hang time\nNigga, I ain't got no kick-it for you\nI don't wanna make friends\nI don't wanna make amends\nI'm chasin' Ms\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nYeah, facts"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easSpiral Lyrics\nEverything I do, I be ten steps ahead (Ten)\nMy youngin got them bodies, he still\u2005piss\u2005in the bed\u2005(Spend)\nKeep the code of silence, don't\u2005repeat what I said (21)\nKeep all the baloney, I just came for the bread (On God)\nMy hood known for wildin' and I don't promote the violence\nI done been through all the trials and tribulations, now I'm smilin' (21)\nSay he wanted smoke, we at the table doin' the plottin'\nWe gon' slide, wet your shit up, make it home 'fore you h\u0435ar a siren (Big facts)\n\nI'ma let 'em spin lik\u0435 a spiral (Straight up)\nI don't got no love for no rival (Straight up)\nPut him on the news, he went viral (Pussy)\nI took a number two with my rifle (Pussy)\nEvery car I'm in, I got the title (On God)\nSlaughter Gang, I turn a model to a hiker (Big facts)\nI know they want me dead, I got a Kel-Tec in this Viper (21)\nI hit all the vibes on the low 'cause I'm a sniper (21)\n\nHe don't want no problems and it's obvious\nCall me Saw 'cause I laugh when I body shit (On God)\nWe play hot potato with the opps, we be droppin' shit (21)\nGivin' out free smoke 'cause we got a lot of it (21)\nTryna feed the fam, I was trappin' in the cold (21)\nDropped a mixtape, turned around, I was on the road (On God)\nYou can't give me no amount of money for my soul (21)\nHe wasn't really no robber, he got killed 'cause it wasn't his role (Facts)\nMAC-90 pokin' out my Goyard (Goyard)\nDiamondback pokin' out my Louis V (LV)\nNigga, fuck your Glock, we shoot big chops (Big sticks)\nSeven-six, .308 and .223s (21, 21)\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nI'ma let 'em spin like a spiral (21)\nI don't got no love for no rival (Pussy)\nPut him on the news, he went viral (Pussy)\nI took a number two with my rifle (21, 21)\nEvery car I'm in, I got the title (Straight up)\nSlaughter Gang, I turn a model to a hiker (Straight up)\nI know they want me dead, I got a Kel-Tec in this Viper (Straight up)\nI hit all the vibes on the low 'cause I'm a sniper (Straight up)\n\nI make sure the beef get Swiss cheese (21)\nI'm from 20-East where they killin' thieves (Big facts)\nStones got my ears feelin' like Christmas Eve (Big facts)\nBefore you bend over, baby, get on your knees (Big facts)\nDrive by, jump out, then we tie-dye (21, 21)\nSay a nigga touched me, that's a lie, lie (Big cap)\nShe fried, she fucked the gang, we call her Five Guys (Five Guys)\nI'm so high, I almost thought I skydived (Skydived)\n\nI'ma let 'em spin like a spiral (Straight up)\nI don't got no love for no rival (Straight up)\nPut him on the news, he went viral (Pussy)\nI took a number two with my rifle (Pussy)\nEvery car I'm in, I got the title (On God)\nSlaughter Gang, I turn a model to a hiker (Big facts)\nI know they want me dead, I got a Kel-Tec in this Viper (21)\nI hit all the vibes on the low 'cause I'm a sniper (21)"}
{"text":"15 ContributorsYea Yea Lyrics\nYo\nYo, Pi'erre\u201a you wanna come out here?\n\nBig knots get a nigga Xd out\nBitch\u201a I'm rich\u201a I'm tryna fuck on every thot\nBitch, I'm rich, I'm tryna beat your neck out\nSavage got the .40 with the red dot\nSavage made a quarter mil' off \"Red Opps\"\nYeah\u201a nigga, I ain't never filled out a job app'\nYour favorite rapper keyboard, I swear that nigga all cap\nAll my niggas real fans\u201a all of 'em all clap\n21 Savage, I be hangin' where the check be\nI don't want the pussy, lil' bitch, just neck me\nBitch, you tryna screenshot a nigga, don't text me\nI don't wanna be your boyfriend, I'm your bestie, yeah, yeah\nSpend a whole lot of bills, nigga, yeah, yeah\nHouse all in the hills, nigga, yeah, yeah\nSuck that dick until it spill, baby, yeah, yeah\nI get nasty, I'm ill, baby, yeah, yeah\nDiamonds on me real big, yeah, yeah\nI put a 30 on a SIG, yeah, yeah\nBalenciagas on my kids, yeah, yeah\nI'm doing donuts in the 6, yeah, yeah\nGot a stick with a knife, don't get chopped up\nCarbon with the silencer, make a nigga silence ya\nOh, you think you tough because you run around on that Molly, huh\nI ain't even gonna acknowledge ya\nAll my niggas bodied up\nRan up a bag then I went and bought a Rari\nIf I hurt your feelings, my bad, I'm sorry\nGot a lot of choppers, I ain't talking 'bout no Harleys\nSlaughter Gang, nigga, we just shot up the party\nI'ma let the diamonds talk for me, yeah\nMake a model bitch walk for me, yeah\nYou better swallow, bitch, don't act bougie\nYou better not act like you don't see your friend choosing\nAll that ass, bitch, let a nigga squeeze it\nThis hard work, bitch, pimpin' ain't easy\nI buy bitches new cars all season\nI spoil all my hoes for no reasonSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsSlaughter Ya Daughter Lyrics\nMy pinky ring (Slaughter your daughter)\nThat's a quarter (Slaughter your daughter)\nDouble cup (Slaughter your daughter)\nThree hundred dollars (Slaughter your daughter)\nI got commas (Slaughter your daughter)\nFerragamo (Slaughter your daughter)\nI bought a Benz (Slaughter your daughter)\nShe had a Honda (Slaughter your daughter)\nShe's a darling (She's a darling)\nI gave her molly (I gave her molly)\nThe bitch is geeking (The bitch is geeking)\nShe seeing Scotty (She seeing Scotty)\nShe dancing for me (I slaughtered your daughter)\nI love her body (I slaughtered your daughter)\nHere's my number (Slaughter your daughter)\nBe sure to call me (Slaughter your daughter)\n\nI slaughtered your daughter, in back of the Honda\nI'm whipping up white, I'm whipping up Barbara\nI fucked on Keysha Undra, and then I fucked Sonia\nAnd then I fucked Tonia\nI slaughtered your daughter, I'm 21 Savage\nI don't do no marriage, I fucked her on camera\nThe bitch was embarrassed, I gave her a molly\nShe talking to Scotty\nShe dancing in Follies, she geeking like Bobby\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nMy pinky ring (Slaughter your daughter)\nThat's a quarter (Slaughter your daughter)\nDouble cup (Slaughter your daughter)\nThree hundred dollars (Slaughter your daughter)\nI got commas (Slaughter your daughter)\nFerragamo (Slaughter your daughter)\nI bought a Benz (Slaughter your daughter)\nShe had a Honda (Slaughter your daughter)\nShe's a darling (She's a darling)\nI gave her molly (I gave her molly)\nThe bitch is geeking (The bitch is geeking)\nShe seeing Scotty (She seeing Scotty)\nShe dancing for me (I slaughtered your daughter)\nI love her body (I slaughtered your daughter)\nHere's my number (Slaughter your daughter)\nBe sure to call me (Slaughter your daughter)\n\nI gave her water (Hey), she acting famished (Hey)\nCan't even have it (Hey)\nBrandon Jackson (Hey), that is my, dawg\nShe take the, charge, that is my, dawg\nShe take the, charge, I nutted on her (Hey)\nShe wiped it off (Hey), I left out (Hey)\nDon't call the house, don't pull up in, okay\nUh, shit, damn, ayy, uh, ayy\nMy pinky ring (Slaughter your daughter)\nThat's a quarter (Slaughter your daughter)\nDouble cup (Slaughter your daughter)\nThree hundred dollars (Slaughter your daughter)\nI got commas (Slaughter your daughter)\nFerragamo (Slaughter your daughter)\nI bought a Benz (Slaughter your daughter)\nShe had a Honda (Slaughter your daughter)\nShe's a darling (She's a darling)\nI gave her molly (I gave her molly)\nThe bitch is geeking (The bitch is geeking)\nShe seeing Scotty (She seeing Scotty)\nShe dancing for me (I slaughtered your daughter)\nI love her body (I slaughtered your daughter)\nHere's my number (Slaughter your daughter)\nBe sure to call me (Slaughter your daughter)\n\nTryna see a hundred on the highway, riding to Chattanooga\nHeard the boys want beef with us, my boy pull up with that Ruger\nGot so many girls around the world, boy, I can't lose 'em\nEvery city I touchdown in, it be so hard to choose her\nMy money be stacking all night, all night like I'm on plantation\nEverybody know my shit the hottest in the nation\nPutting down lil' fires if any motherfucker wanna talk that shit\nLast time, I came here tell 'em I cost about a brick\nGod damn, my ho, you be making a lot nowadays, we getting paid\nI got so many girls, I bring 'em to the fucking shade\nThey say I shine like the sun, we sipping lemonade\nI do not know your fucking friend and I ain't tryna mate\n'Cause a nigga like me be goddamn rapping\nAt the same time, lil' nigga out here trapping\nBecause I need more than a deal worth\nFuck what your deal worth\nNigga, I look like Spielberg\nMy pinky ring (Slaughter your daughter)\nThat's a quarter (Slaughter your daughter)\nDouble cup (Slaughter your daughter)\nThree hundred dollars (Slaughter your daughter)\nI got commas (Slaughter your daughter)\nFerragamo (Slaughter your daughter)\nI bought a Benz (Slaughter your daughter)\nShe had a Honda (Slaughter your daughter)\nShe's a darling (She's a darling)\nI gave her molly (I gave her molly)\nThe bitch is geeking (The bitch is geeking)\nShe seeing Scotty (She seeing Scotty)\nShe dancing for me (I slaughtered your daughter)\nI love her body (I slaughtered your daughter)\nHere's my number (Slaughter your daughter)\nBe sure to call me (Slaughter your daughter)"}
{"text":"16 ContributorsMotorcycle Lyrics\n\nShe gon' ride it like a motorcycle\nShe gon' ride it like a motorcycle\nShe gon' ride it like a motorcycle\nShe gon' ride it like a motorcycle\nShe gon' ride it like a motorcycle\nShe gon' ride it like a motorcycle\n\nShe gon' ride it like a motorcycle, throw it back, baby, recycle\nBitch, I'm bleeding like I'm on a cycle, I be leaning, baby, no NyQuil\nAnd I can't stop it, keep going, baby, don't stop it\nAll my garments come from France, French kissing in France\nHundred-thousand stuffed in my pants, money piling up like ants\nAnd I can't stop it, keep going, baby, don't stop it\n\nI can't stop it, hundred-thousand stuffed in my pocket\nPull up on a nigga with a rocket, if I pull it out, then I'ma pop it\nI call her bike life 'cause she ridin', non-stop it, eat the pussy up and then a nigga get it popping\nFinger licking, good like shrimp and teriyaki\nVVS diamonds got my watch playing hockey\n21 Savage, I get money like a Jew, hundreds on me blue, hundreds on me blue\nYou know I'm a slut, I'll fuck your crew\nYeah, I'm a dog like that, pull up in a 'Rari with the top dropped back\nPull up on your block with the chop cocked back\nPew, pew, pew, make a nigga walk back\n1017, they need to bring the wop back, when I get inside that pussy, baby, I can't stop\nI love it when I see them nipples through the crop top\nButt crack showing in them G-Star jeans\nMake a nigga wanna go and buy her a ring\nShe gon' turn a nigga to a fiend, she gon' make a nigga kill the scene\nShe gon' hold my dope when I'm in need, she gon' bail me out when I'm in need\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nShe gon' ride it like a motorcycle, throw it back, baby, recycle\nBitch, I'm bleeding like I'm on a cycle, I be leaning, baby, no NyQuil\nAnd I can't stop it, keep going, baby, don't stop it\nAll my garments come from France, French kissing in France\nHundred-thousand stuffed in my pants, money piling up like ants\nAnd I can't stop it, keep going, baby, don't stop it\n\nPut the money in the safe, you could beat it like a case\nI've been waiting all day, so I could put it in your face\nBeen real with him from the start, know a lot of niggas sell out\nGet up in the jam, you know who to call to bail out\nGot a bad bitch, know these niggas gon' hate\nCan't stop getting money, bitch, I don't got brakes\nIf a nigga 'bout his bread, it be getting to his head\nHe be running from the feds, left a lot of niggas dead\nAin't enough kush, he be rolling like dice\nShow him who the business now he wanna throw the rights\nHe'll pay for it if I gave him a price, fuck around with my type, boy, you know you ain't right\nI'm knowing your bitch ain't had shit\nIt's Dreezy and 21 Savage\nYeah, million dollar, nigga, blow the money like a whistle\nTake me where I wanna order steak up off the menu\nHard head nigga, know he gripping on a pistol, if you buy me a ring, we can make this shit official\nFucking with me harder than your niggas, power couple, yeah, we all up on a mission\nI know when you gotta handle business, you know I'ma be here waiting for you when you finish\nLet's get it\nShe gon' ride it like a motorcycle, throw it back, baby, recycle\nBitch, I'm bleeding like I'm on a cycle, I be leaning, baby, no NyQuil\nAnd I can't stop it, keep going, baby, don't stop it\nAll my garments come from France, French kissing in France\nHundred-thousand stuffed in my pants, money piling up like ants\nAnd I can't stop it, keep going, baby, don't stop it"}
{"text":"15 ContributorsOh Ok Lyrics\n(Zaytoven)\nYeah, yeah, yeah\n21 Savage\n21, 21\nHa yeah, yeah\nHa ha, ha,ha, ha ha, ha\nHaha, haha\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nHa ha ha, ya dig?\n\nCarbon 15 on 'em\nAR 15 on 'em\nGot that Glock with the beam on it (Glock with the beam on it)\nEvery nigga in my team want it (Yeah)\nOh, you a gangsta? You a savage now? (Savage now?)\nYou ain't never sprayed a hundred rounds (Pussy ass nigga)\nLast nigga tried me, gunned him down (Swear to fuckin' God)\nLeft his body in the lost and found (Left him in the mud)\nZone 6 shit, bitch (Yeah nigga, fuck nigga)\nWho the fuck told you shit was sweet? (Fuck said that?)\nWho the fuck want smoke with me? (21, 21, 21)\nNigga barking up the wrong tree (Wrong fuckin' tree)\nEverybody want to hold nuts on Young Savage (21)\nProbably cause your bitch wanna fuck Young Savage (21)\nAll these pussy niggas acting like they really trapping\nYou got one more strike, fuckboy and I'ma whack you (21)\nWoo, woo\nBut that nigga watch blinging, take it (Strip him, strip him, strip him)\nBut a nigga chain blinging, take it (Fuck, damn)\nSaid he got a bankroll, take it (Pussy ass bitch)\nAnd yo' shooters ain't gon' do nothing (Pussy ass shit)\nFuck the glamour and the glitz (Fuck the glamour and the glitz)\nBitch I keep extended clip (One, two, three, four)\nI keep extended clip (Twenty, thirty, forty, fifty)\nI love my extended clip (Pew pew)\n15 got my first trap spot (One way hollow, bitch)\nI beat that motherfucker out (Beat that motherfucker out)\n19, nigga tried to jump me in the club (21, 21)\nI aired that motherfucker out (Blrrt, bah, bah, bah, bah)\nYou ain't 'bout that shit that you rapping 'bout (21, 21)\nNigga tell the truth, what you cappin' 'bout? (Cappin' ass)\nNigga fuck the rap, we can clap it out (Clap it out)\nI take the .30 out and gonna slap you out\nPay attention man, these niggas really weird (Really weird)\nPussy ass nigga gotta period (Bitch, bitch, bitch)\nBitch ass nigga (Yeah)\nSnitch ass nigga\n\"I take pictures with my hand on my hip\", ass nigga\nWhen it gets real I'ma gon' and dip ass nigga\nEast Atlanta to Decatur to get your flip fast nigga\nGot your bitch swallowing cum, like some slim fast nigga (Yeah)\n21 Gang and we don't throw no white flags nigga\nSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like\nBitch, bitch!\nYeah, a lotta, um (21)\nFake you know what I'm saying beef (21, 21)\nOr whatever the fuck y'all call it (21)\nNigga, we don't beef nigga (21)\nWe just eat nigga (21, 21)\nAnd keep it moving nigga (21, 21)\n21 Savage (Yeah, yeah)\nSlaughter King (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)\nStill on that bullshit (Yeah, ya dig)\nStill keep a full clip, ya dig? (Ya dig, ya dig)\nStill give ya pussy ass a face lift nigga (Yeah)"}
{"text":"15 Contributors21 Way (Freestyle) Lyrics\nHot box with a paper tag on it\nYour baby brother used to be my crash dummy\nDon't call my phone if it ain't 'bout cash money\nI don't wanna talk if it ain't 'bout cash money\nI got a lot of shooters 'round me and they hungry\nHe sold a zip and now he acting like he Tony\nI be chasing after money like I'm homeless\nI had to leave that bitch alone cause she was bogus\nPut a 100 on your head\nNow a nigga dead\nYou niggas know that Young Savage will paint the city red\nI don't want to do no song with these niggas 'cause they scared\nDraco on the seat I keep that Draco on the seat\nMolly, percs and weed you know these bitches like to eat\nSlaughter gang, we slaughter hoes cause half these bitches freaks\nAll the shit I've been through man it change a young G\nThat's why I keep that hundred round drum around me\nThat's why I keep a lot of fucking guns around me\nIf you ain't with the gang you better not come around me\nAll that motherfucking leechin', ain't no bummin' round' me\nYou like that pillow talk but niggas shoot for fun around me\n\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nThey robbin' round my way\nShootin' around my way\nAin't nothing sweet, you better keep a gun around my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nThey robbin' round my way\nShootin' around my way\nAin't nothing sweet you better keep a gun around my way\nRound my way\nRound my way\nRound my waySee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsNo Debate Lyrics\nWoah, woah, woah\nOh, that's how y'all feel? Okay\nKeep that same energy\nWoah, woah, yeah\nWoah, yeah, woah, woah\nWoah, woah, woah, woah\nWoah\n\nNiggas go to switchin' sides, bitches go to switchin' sides\nMy lil' brother walkin' on crutches, but he still'll ride\nI can't find the words to describe what I feel inside\nGo against the gang, you ain't heard? That's like suicide\nPillar box, grab a Glock, spray a block, that's how we slide\nSpin that bitch again, nigga, we don't care 'bout who done died\nGo to war with everybody if my crew decide\nAin't no fuckin' middle, nigga, better chose a side\nNo respect for Instagram gangsters, gotta tag something\nHe was talkin' crazy, caught him lackin' at a gas pump\nStart a war, then hide in the house, you get your man slumped\nShots out the Draco, ain't no chaser, got his ass drunk\nEvery time my voice come on the beat, that shit got mad bump\nNudy smokin' fetus funk, check the score, they ass skunk\nHeadshot, his forehead lump, flip the switch, nigga, dump\n4L love me, they protect me, secret service like I'm Trump\nYou can feel my presence before I came in the building\nI'ma put some condos in my hood, I get a billion\nLost my right hand and my arms and it killed me\nWash away the trauma with the drugs, but I need therapy\nMy daddy broke my momma heart, while she carried me\nI don't respect him enough to even ask him for the clarity\nI just want my girl to hold me down and not embarrass me\nTreat me how you treat your Birkin bags, baby, cherish me\nYou heard I don't like you, nigga, now you wanna blast me\nIf you was a man, you would've had the balls to ask me\nI want everybody on, I don't care 'bout who pass me\nKnowin' if I turn my back, you probably still gon' stab me\nI ain't wanna jump inside the streets, but they grabbed me\nKnow you want me back, but bitch, you played me when you had me\nGotta make it home, I got some people call me daddy\nThey depend on me, that's why I bulletproof the Caddy\nTake a couple Ms, put 'em in a safe\nThen I took my brothers and put 'em all in place\nI know niggas envy, I know niggas hate\nShots out the Draco, put 'em in his face\nWhen it come to smoke, I'm givin' what they take\nI freed up my calendar, nigga, pick a date\nGot a lot to lose, tryin' not to bite the bait\nWhen it's up, it's up, it ain't never for debateSee 21 Savage LiveGet tickets as low as $69You might also like"}
{"text":"It's fuckin' TR3YWAY\nKing of New York, lookin' for the Queen\nUh, you got the right one, hmm\nL-let these, let these b-b-bitches know, nigga\nQueens, Brooklyn, brrr, ah\nMurda on the beat so it's not nice\n\nPussy got that wet, wet, got that drip, drip\nGot that super soaker, hit that\nShe a Fefe, her name Keke\nShe eat my dick like it's free, free\nI don't even know like, \"Why I did that?\"\nI don't even know like, \"Why I hit that?\"\nAll I know is that I just can't wife that\nTalk to her nice so she won't fight back\nTurn around and hit it from the back, back, back\nBend her down then I make it clap, clap, clap\n\nI don't really want no friends\nI don't really want no friends, no\n\nDraco got that kick-back when I blow that, they all do track\nThey don't shoot back, one shot, close range, red dot\nHead tight, yeah, I did that, yeah, I live that\nCall a Uber with my shooter, with a Ruger, we gon' do ya\nNiggas say they killin' people, but I really fuckin' do it\nYou might also like\nI don't really want no friends\nI don't really want no friends, no\n\nHe-he tryna 69 like Tekashi, call him papi\nWord to A$AP, keep me Rocky, I'm from New York, so I'm cocky\nSay he fuckin' with my posse, copped me Khlo\u00e9 like Kardashi'\nKeep this pussy in Versace, said I'm pretty like Tinashe\nPut-put it all up in his face, did I catch a case?\nPussy game just caught a body, but I never leave a trace\nFace is pretty, ass for days, I get chips, I ask for Lay's\nI just sit back and when he done, I be like, \"Yo, how'd it taste?\"\n(Yo, how'd it taste?)\n\nI don't really want no friends\nI don't really want no friends, no\n\nAyo, Draco got that kick-back\nWhen it kick-back, you can't get yo shit back\nIn fact this that bitch that\n\"I hate small talk, I don't fuck with chit-chat\"\nAC just stopped workin'\nSo they hit me, told me bring my wrist back\nCome through rockin' fashions\nThat got all these bitches like, \"Yo, what's that?\"\n(Like, \"Yo, what's that?\")\nI don't really want no friends\nI don't really want no friends, no\n\nEeny, meeny, miny, moe\nI catch a ho right by her toe\nIf she ain't fuckin' me and Nicki\nKick that ho right through the door (TR3YWAY)\nI don't really want no friends, my old ho just bought this Benz\nNicki just hopped in this shit, now I won't see that bitch again\nEeny, meeny, miny, moe (No)\nI catch a ho right by her toe (No)\nIf she ain't fuckin' me and Nicki\nKick that ho right through the door (No, TR3YWAY)\n\nMmm, Young Money, Young Money bunny\nColorful hair, don't care\nI don't really want no friends\nI don't really want no friends, no\nI don't really want no friends\nI don't really want no friends, no\nScum Gang"}
{"text":"I tell a nigga don't dick ride, don't blick ride\nLeave it to the double thick\u2005thighs,\u2005twin sisters\nDrop it\u2005down and wobble, wobble up, mami\u2005booted up\nShe get down and gobble, gobble up 'cause my\u205fmoney\u205fup\nSlide,\u205fslide in the\u205fBentley truck-a, the\u205fWraith truck-a\nYour bestie is a dick sucker, I big dub her\nAs-salam-alam alaykum, you big hater\nYou nothin' but a hater, hater, clout chaser\n\nNow we catch him at the chicken spot, up a couple chops\nPop that nigga with a hundred shots, ra-ta-ta-ta-ta\nDayDay made that nigga Diddy Bop, cha-cha-cha-cha-cha\nHe thought we was gon' knuckle up, bitch, I don't box\nAnd these niggas always talkin' shit, yadda-yadda-ya\nWhen you see me, what you talkin' 'bout, fuck you talkin' 'bout?\nNiggas always wanna chase clout, bitch, I am clout\nTell 'em get up out my face now 'fore I grrt\nAre you dumb, stupid, or dumb, huh?\nPlay me like a dummy, like bitch, are you dumb?\nAre you dumb, stupid, or dumb, huh?\nYeah, you got some money, but you still fuckin' ugly\nStupid, listen\nWhen I talk, you better listen\nWe can make him dance, bachata\nSlide over, do the cha-cha\nGrrt, bah-bah\nMake a nigga go adi\u00f3s\nD\u00edmelo, mami\nFresca, you nasty\nFlame up, light it\nThey see me and get excited\nTwo step, spin around, so fly, pilot\nThey sick, been hot way before coronavirus\nNigga, who did that? Nigga, who did what?\nNigga, that's my shit, don't bite it\nYou might also like\nI tell a nigga don't dick ride, don't blick ride\nLeave it to the double thick thighs, twin sisters\nDrop it down and wobble, wobble up, mami booted up\nShe get down and gobble, gobble up 'cause my money up\nSlide, slide in the Bentley truck-a, the Wraith truck-a\nYour bestie is a dick sucker, I big dub her\nAs-salam-alam alaykum, you big hater\nYou nothin' but a hater, hater, clout chaser\n\nYou're mad I'm back, big mad\nHe's mad, she's mad, big sad\nHaha, don't care, stay mad\nAh-hah, ah-hah, ah-hah\nHaha, bitch, I'm laughin' 'cause you big mad\nSee it in your face, cry baby, bitch, you big sad\nNiggas tweetin' bout me, got me trendin', bitch, you big sad\nTell me how I ratted, came home to a big bag\n\n(Jah, ayy, you know that boy)"}
{"text":"Niggas iffy, uh, blicky got the stiffy, uh\nGot the blicky, uh, drum, it hold fifty, uh\n(Let me put some hot sauce on that thing, real quick)\nScum Gang!\n(I'll see y''all later, Suuwhoop)\n\nPop these niggas like a wheelie, nigga, you a silly nigga\nIn the hood with them Billy niggas and them Hoover niggas\nYou run up and they shootin' niggas, we ain't hoopin', nigga\nNo KB, you would lose a nigga, up that Uzi, nigga\nOn the stoop, crills in my drawers, your girl on my phone\nShe wanna fuck, but keep her clothes on, I only want the jaw\nMan, that's really all I use her for, then kick her out the door\nI don't want her, you can keep the whore, she fiendin' for some more\nIn New York, my niggas don't Milly Rock, my niggas money bop\nBlow a case, a nigga throwin' shots, I run 'em off they block\nQuarter milli' in the stash box, I grinded for my spot\nNiggas talkin' 'bout that cash, but my bag worth a lot\nI don't fuck with no old hoes, only new hoes\nPut my dick in her backbone, I pass her to my bro\nI don't love her, that's a sad ho, she a bad ho\nI'ma fuck her, then I dash home, to the cash, ho\n\nI'm on some rob a nigga shit, take a nigga bitch\nDo the dash in the whip, count the cash in the whip\nI pull up with a stick, I let that shit hit\nShout out *******, but I fucked that nigga bitch\nYou might also like\nNiggas iffy, uh, blicky got the stiffy, uh\nGot the blicky, uh, drum it hold fifty, uh\nMove milli', all my niggas on fifty, uh\nTalk down (Pew pew pew), you silly, uh (Fah-fah-fah-fah)\nHit a stain, fifty bands, all hunnids\nSpinnin' through ya block, like a pop shove-it\nShoot at me, I'm shootin' back, I'm gettin' buckets\nI ain't wanna take his life, but nigga, fuck it\n\nI'm on some rob a nigga shit, take a nigga bitch\nDo the dash in the whip, count the cash in the whip\nI pull up with a stick, I let that shit hit\nShout out *******, but I fucked that nigga bitch\nI'm on some rob a nigga shit, take a nigga bitch\nDo the dash in the whip, count the cash in the whip\nI pull up with a stick, I let that shit hit\nShout out *******, but I fucked that nigga bitch\n\nScum Gang!"}
{"text":"That's my word, get up in they face\nTalk your shit, let your nuts drag, nigga\nThese niggas just runnin' out they fuckin' mouth, man\nFollow protocol, Blood, get in they fuckin' chest, nigga\n(Scum Gang!)\nWe the fuckin' M.O.B., nigga\nThese niggas bleed different\nWe don't bleed, nigga\nWe make niggas bleed, Blood\nTR3YWAY\n\nThese niggas say they heard of me, I ain't heard of you\nGet the fuck up out my fuckin' face, 'fore I murder you\nBitch niggas always jackin' Blood, but I know they fu\nWhole squad full of fuckin' killers, I'm a killer too\nSending shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, nigga\nEverybody gettin' pop, pop, popped, nigga\nThe thing go \"rrrah, rrrah, rrrah, rrrah, rrrah\", nigga\nWe send shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, nigga\n\nIt's always 6ix9ine this and 6ix9ine that\nNiggas on my dick and on my yack\nThese niggas lookin' for me, you could hit my jack\nI done dropped my address, y'all know where 6ix9ine at\nI don't flock, yeah, nine to his back like Ibaka\nBaka, not nice, with the fuckin' choppa\nPop 'em, scope on the nigga, who shot ya?\nDropped him, somebody call a fuckin' doctor!\nDick up in the pussy, bet that shit get gushy, gushy\nShe want the whole gang bussin' all in her pussy\nI want the drip, drip while I get my dick licked\nLil' sick bitch, lickin' on my dick tip (Menace)\nShe a freak ho, fuck her, she on beast mode\nArch your back, put your hands on your knees, ho\nI'm on beast mode, shoot you through your peep-hole\nSaid he want smoke, I don't really see it though (Menace)\nYou might also like\nThese niggas say they heard of me, I ain't heard of you\nGet the fuck up out my fuckin' face, 'fore I murder you\nBitch niggas always jackin' Blood, but I know they fu\nWhole squad full of fuckin' killers, I'm a killer too\nSending shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, nigga\nEverybody gettin' pop, pop, popped, nigga\nThe thing go \"rrrah, rrrah, rrrah, rrrah, rrrah\", nigga\nWe send shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, nigga"}
{"text":"Scum Gang!\n\nNiggas runnin' out they mouth, but they never pop out\nI got the drop on your spot, everybody watch out\nAll my niggas on 50, so you know we hopped out\nMobbed out, opps out, we gon' show what we about\nAll my niggas really gang bang, talk that damn slang\nRap about it, do the same thing, let your nuts hang\nWe gon' pull up, nigga, \u00a1\u00e1ndale!, on Sangre\nWe post up, we don't do the race, you gon' die today\n\nIn the spot, blow 50 bands, shit, 100 bands\nShit, my pockets on a runnin' man, fuck a rubberband\nI'ma fuck her in a handstand, she a fan, man\nNeed the drugs? I'm the Xan man, I'm the damn man\nI roll up, I'm gon' be booted, stupid, and shootin' stupid\nBrought a knife, I brought a Ruger, stupid, I really do this\nIf I tote it then you know I'll shoot it and I'ma prove it\nBack, back, don't be movin', stupid, or I'ma use it (Squad)\nDicky stiffy, uh, bet she give some licky, uh\nLil bitty, uh, bust all on her titties, uh\nShe a skeezer, uh, really don't need her, uh\nBust then I leave her, uh, she a little eater, uh\nGet back, kickback, blow your shit back, uh\nRip that, take that, flip that, send that, uh\n.223 hit, where your clothes at? Uh\nScum Gang 'bout that Fendi, fin-act, uh\nYou might also like\nNiggas runnin' out they mouth, but they never pop out\nI got the drop on your spot, everybody watch out\nAll my niggas on 50, so you know we hopped out\nMobbed out, opps out, we gon' show what we about\nAll my niggas really gang bang, talk that damn slang\nRap about it, do the same thing, let your nuts hang\nWe gon' pull up, nigga \u00a1\u00e1ndale!, on Sangre (It's Koncept P, the beat knockin')\nWe post up, we don't do the race, you gon' die today\n\nYou can talk hot on the internet, boy\nThat's that goofy shit, we ain't into that, boy\nBlack van, pull up to your momma crib, boy\nTie her up, drive that shit off a bridge, lil boy\nYou can talk hot on the internet, boy\nThat's that goofy shit, we ain't into that, boy\nBlack van, pull up to your momma crib, boy\nTie her up, drive that shit off a bridge, lil boy\n\nNiggas runnin' out they mouth, but they never pop out\nI got the drop on your spot, everybody watch out\nAll my niggas on 50, so you know we hopped out\nMobbed out, opps out, we gon' show what we about (It's Koncept P, the beat knockin')\nAll my niggas really gang bang, talk that damn slang\nRap about it, do the same thing, let your nuts hang\nWe gon' pull up, nigga \u00a1\u00e1ndale!, on Sangre\nWe post up, we don't do the race, you gon' die today"}
{"text":"Hold up, let me get it started\nB.B. with the Robin's, lookin' all retarded\nB.B. saggin', fly like a dragon\nBitches suck my dick, 'cause I'm fly like Aladdin\nScum Gang!\n\nThese bitches think I'm stupid, I ain't stupid\nDummy boys fall in love with it, he stupid\nAll these hoes on my body, cut the bullshit\nAll these hoes, they ain't loyal, y'all lookin' stupid\nI just left Starlets and I ain't even cash out\nBack out, straight to the trap house, I blow her back out\nI'll pull her tracks out, got her running like it's track now\nLike a Smackdown, rock bottom I'ma pin her down\nHold up, let me get it started\nB.B. with the Robin's, lookin' all retarded\nB.B. saggin', fly like a dragon\nBitches suck my dick 'cause I'm fly like Aladdin\n\nPour a semi, pull up to the cribby, uh\nLicky-licky, licky on my blicky, uh\nTake a flicky, make a movie with me, uh\nTake a flicky, make 'em real drippy, uh\nWhy you watching me?\nYou all on my IG\nWhy you stalking me?\nYou don't even follow me\nWhy you tweet my shit?\nYou ain't used to read my shit\nBitch, you used to fuckin' leave me on seen and shit\nYou might also like\nWent to the Eastside, spanked out Juju\nLucky I ain't have it on me, I was gon' shoot you\nSpanked him on camera, threw it on YouTube\nStupid lil' dumb nigga, now you on YouTube\nIf a nigga want beef, I'm the type to drag it\nShoot you while you with your bitch then it's back to mackin'\nPolice pull up on me, I don't know what happened\nPolice pull up on you, you gon' get to yappin'\nWe gon' get to clappin', we been on static\nSemi-automatics, they gon' get to clappin'\nWe ain't with the chattin', you lil' niggas cappin'\nIf we catch you lackin', turn you into has-beens\nRan through Lust, 100 bands up\nShout out SpinKing, that's my motherfuckin' blood, nigga\nGo, go, go mulignane\nGo, go, mulignane\n\nPour a semi, pull up to the cribby, uh\nLicky-licky, licky on my blicky, uh\nTake a flicky, make a movie with me, uh\nTake a flicky, make 'em real drippy, uh\nWhy you watching me?\nYou all on my IG\nWhy you stalking me?\nYou don't even follow me\nWhy you tweet my shit?\nYou ain't used to read my shit\nBitch, you used to fuckin' leave me on seen and shit"}
{"text":"Scum Gang!\nAF Nation\n\nI be on the block, on the regular\nWith my niggas bustin' at the cops, on the regular\nBitches suckin' dick, givin' top, on the regular\nCatch me water whippin' straight drop, on the regular\nYeah, you know I run up with the shit, on the regular\nBare-faced, I'ma hit a lick, on the regular\nPosted with the drop, gun cocked, on the regular\nYeah, I'm 6ix9ine with the 9, on the regular\nNiggas want war, yeah, kick their door, yeah\nNiggas want the sauce, yeah, shake 'em off, yeah\nI'm still in the hood, yeah, bussin' juggs, yeah\nRollin' through the city, yeah, with my niggas, yeah\nNiggas want they bitch back, I don't chit-chat\nRun up, hear a \"Click-clack\", blow your shit back\nBaby, I ain't a hot boy, I'm a block boy\nDouble trigger Glock (Ah), make him Diddy Bop, boy (Ayy)\n\nNigga, we be bustin' at the opps, on the regular\nNigga, we be duckin' from the cops, on the regular\nBitches suckin' dick and givin' top, on the regular\nShit that's on my wrist, it cost a lot, it ain't regular\nNigga, if it's comin' from my spot, it ain't regular\nSomeone's will is on a different side, it ain't regular\nYou can't take the money when you die, it ain't regular\nNiggas with me, really ready to die, on the regular (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nPu-Pu-Pu-Pu-Pull up to his door, yeah, get on the floor, yeah (Yeah)\nPull up, we gon' shoot, don't check out the score yet (Yeah)\nDifferent colored coupes, money on the floor, yeah (Yeah)\nThey know I got juice, drippin', drippin' sauce, yeah (Yeah-ayy-a)\nPull up to his door, yeah, get on the floor, yeah (Yeah-ayy-a)\nPull up, we gon' shoot, don't check out the score yet (Yeah-ayy-a)\nDifferent colored coupes, money on the floor, yeah (Yeah-ayy-a)\nThey know I got juice, drippin', drippin' sauce, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nThey know I'ma ball, like LaVar (Yeah-ayy-a)\nAyy, 'bout to take a trip to the stars (Yeah-ayy-a)\nAyy, let a nigga drip in designer (Yeah-ayy-a)\nAyy, makin' money flip for the mob (Yeah)\n\nI fuck it up, I fuck it up, mmm, yeah\nShmegular, that's regular, mmm, yeah\nI hit it on the tour bus, ooh yeah\nIf I'm a player, you a slut, ooh yeah\nI told my .38, \"I love you\"\nThat's my baby, when I pull up she pull up, two-seater\nHerm\u00e8s on the buckle, and a\nLotta bag in the duffle, yeah\nLeave 'em wet, I let it rain, nigga\nPut a .30 to your mothafuckin' brain nigga, ah\nI'm runnin' around with the same niggas\nSame niggas that'll take a nigga's chain, nigga, ah"}
{"text":"Y'all already know it be the boy Yung Gordon\nAnd you rockin' with Take Money Promotions\nAyy, Take Money Promotions\nGive 'em that new shit, no fool shit\nOh yeah, let's go\nDJ NekoLito (Rough Rider)\nTMP954WELIVE\nTake Money Promotions\nTay Keith, fuck these niggas up\nBitch, I'm silly\nUp them choppers, shoot your shit up, let's get busy\nDrinkin' Henny, goin' brazy, poppin' pillies\nSex Money Murda, shout-out all my blazing Billies (All my Billies)\nWe in yo' city (We in yo'\u2014)\n\nShoutout my apes in the fuckin' zoo (Filayo)\nFilayo, they gon' shoot\nSpin a hoop, who the fuck is you?\nWho the fuck you know, nigga? No, nigga\nNiggas killed your cousin, you want smoke, nigga? (Stupid)\nGlo nigga, rollin' up your cousin in a blunt, nigga\nBozo, bitch, are you dumb-d-dumb-dumb-dumb-d-dumb-dumb-dumb? (Stupid)\nBitch, I'm Nick Cannon with this drum-dr-drum-drum-drum\n(Brra-pum-pum)\nPull up with semis, no Lil Pump-pr-ump-Pump-pumps\n(No esskeetit)\nWe goin' dumb-d-dumb-dumb-dumb-d-dumb-dumb-dumb\nBitch I'm stupid (Bitch I'm dumb)\nI be tweakin', I be wildin', I be booted (Bitch, I be drunk)\nI be stealin', I be robbin', I be lootin' (You don't wanna die)\nYour boyfriend dumb, he get no money, bitch, he stupid (Is he dumb?)\nOh, bitch, he, oh, bitch, he stupid\nDamn, homie, in high school you was the man, homie (2012)\nWhat the fuck happened to you? (Stupid)\nI'm just sayin', homie\nNow you smokin' Black & Milds, smokin' reg, homie\nYou might also like\nAh-ah-ahh, what's up? Shmurda on the motherfuckin' set\nNigga 6ix9ine what's poppin' cuz?\n\nTell him shut up, suck a dick\nTell him fuck him, I'm the shit\nBitch, I'm drunk recording this\nI'm getting money, I'm the shit\nShout-out my Bloods, shout-out my Crips\nThat nigga, Ebro, he a bitch\nJust another old nigga on a young nigga dick\nBitch I'm lit on the 'Gram, a million likes, you see my shit\nA bitch DM for the dick, but I probably wouldn't hit\nVVS, Cuban hit, shout-out Jimmy for the drip\nYour baby daddy mixtape wasn't shit, he a bitch\nFree Bobby, free Rowdy, free Cueno, free the 9\nShout-out Jay Dee, shout-out Kooda, Dee Savv, those my guys\nFOA they gon' ride, GS9 they gon' slide\nWhen I woo, woo back, ah-ah, those my guys\nShe give me neck until I burst out\nShe use her teeth, she get cursed out\nAnd all these suckers with they fucking feelings\nAlways got these bitches with they purse out\nWe on the blast nigga bow down\nI count bricks put the word out\nYou know you like a nigga Shmoney Dance\nYou gon' love a nigga when I swerve out\nBitch, I'm silly\nUp them choppers, shoot your shit up, let's get busy\nDrinkin' Henny, goin' brazy, poppin' pillies\nSex Money Murda, shout-out all my blazing Billies (All my Billies)\nWe in yo' city\n\nHold up, hold up, hold up, gang\nRun that shit back"}
{"text":"Got me a new Rollie\n(You can't even afford that)\nGotti Gotti, ultra (Take off your headphones)\nGotti Gotti, uh\nGotti Gotti (Hahahaha)\n\n'Kay, my block bang (Gang), .30 bang (Gang)\nScum Gang, big choppa, big thang, let your nuts hang\nWho they? (Gang), don't say (Gang, gang)\nBBA change your mood, ayy, any day\nGotti Gotti, cookin' up, speed it up\nDouble cup, Xanny cup, booted up\nMollied up, molly up, break it up\nCop it, then I serve it up, give it up\nGotti Gotti\n\nFuck with my day ones\nYeah, you know I flooded the chain once\nGot the money, and I split it with day ones\nShe ain't fuck me back when I was lame, nah\nYeah, you know I do my dance (Do it)\nIn the club (Hey), throwin' dough\nRack it up (Rack it), shake it up\nWatch me do it, how I bust it up (Ooh), I mix it up\nThen I hit her with the blicky, uh\nSo drip it, drip it, drip it, drip it\nYou ain't got no money, you can keep her (Pew, pew, pew)\nBitch, I got my Nina, I'ma squeeze her\nIf you really wanna meet her, she a greeter\nIt was really nice to meet ya, I don't need ya (I don't need her)\nI pray to God that my niggas gon' eat (I pray to god)\nI pray to God that my family gon' see (I pray to god)\nPrayin' that the Lord take a chance with me\nWouldn't come when I was up, I was on the wrong things (Mom, please)\nI ain't silly, ain't no dumb nigga, are you dumb, nigga?\nAre you stayin' with the pump, nigga? Fuck is up, nigga?\nIs you mad? You's a fuck nigga, I don't trust niggas\nScum Gang, chew 'em up, nigga, we don't fuck with ya\nYou might also like\nOkay, my block bang (Gang), 30 bang (Gang)\nScum Gang, big choppa, big thang, let your nuts hang\nWho they? (Gang), don't say (Gang, gang)\nBBA change your mood, ayy, any day\nGotti Gotti, cookin' up, speed it up\nDouble cup, Xanny cup, booted up\nMollied up, molly up, break it up\nCop it, then I serve it up, give it up\nGotti Gotti\n\nThe Gotti Gotti\nWho, who really with the money, money?\nWho, who really with the Gotti Gotti?\nWho, who really with the money, money? Who?\n\nDo my dance, hit my dance\nFifty bands, hunnid bands, all my dance\nMollied up, molly up, give it up\nCop it, then I serve it up, give it up\n\nReally with the Gotti, Gotti\nWho, who really with the Gotti, Gotti?\nWho, who really with the?"}
{"text":"Uh\nMurda on the beat so it's not nice!\n\nTiki Taki, Spanish mami, she a hot tamale (Hot)\nMake her spend that money, dummy, go retarded for me (Pop it)\nPop it, pop it, she get started, she won't ever stop it\nLittle thottie, thottarati choosin' everybody\n\nSplish, splash, Apple Bottoms make that ass fat\nShe got that wet wet, got me blowin' through this whole bag (Rack)\nShe got B's, spend some cheese, now they double D's\nThought I had to free, kick her out, my mama comin' home at three\nHo thicker-thicker-thicker than a fuckin' Snicker\nDrug dealer, professional pot-whipper\nIn the winter, buy your ho a chinchilla (Grrr)\nI just bought my bitch them Kylie Jenner lip fillers\n\nMan, oh my God\nShe Instagram famous but she can't keep a job (Ooh)\nMan, oh my God\nSwipe her 30-inch weave on her sugar daddy card (Ooh)\nMan, oh my God\nHer doctor got her bustin' out her motherfuckin' bra (Mmm)\nMan, oh my God\nShe Uber to a nigga with no car\nYou might also like\nTalkin' 'bout the relish, I do not embellish\nJacket got wings, True's got propellers\nGave all my old Margielas to my boy Marcellus\nPulled up with no laces, had the whole block jealous\nOh, Jesus Christ, I don't need advice\nWild nigga life, tell 'em read my rights\nMan it hot tonight, lucky I wore my ice\n15 in the game, baby girl, I got stripes (Huuh)\n\nKa-Ka-Kanye dressed me up like a doll\nThen I hit 6ix9ine, tell him give me the ball\nBitch, this the dream team, magic as I recall\nWhole squad on point, bunch of Chris Pauls (Chris Pauls)\n\nI was out in Spain rockin' a Medusa head\nI ain't never have to give a rap producer head\nIf I do, though, I'ma write a book like Supahead\nThis ain't wonder that I'm makin', this that super bread\nSplish, splash, fuck him in a hurry, quick, fast\nStill a pink wig, thick ass, whiplash\nGot him cummin', cummin', Roger, over, dispatch\nSaid my box is the best, he met his match\nI got all these bitches wantin' to be Barbie dolls\nBarbie Dreamhouse, pink and purple marble walls\nPull-Pull up in that Barbie 'Rari, finna bury y'all\nShe threw dirt on my name, ended up at her own burial\nKanye dressed me up like a doll\nThen I hit 6ix9ine, tell him give me the ball\nBitch, this the dream team, magic as I recall\nWhole squad on point, bunch of Chris Pauls\nKa-Ka-Kanye dressed me up like a doll\nThen I hit 6ix9ine, tell him give me the ball\nBitch, this the dream team, Fif' is on call\nWhole squad on point, bunch of Chris Pauls (Chris Pauls)\n\nTiki Taki, Spanish mami, she a hot tamale (Hot)\nMake her spend that money, dummy, go retarded for me (Pop it)\nPop it, pop it, she get started, she won't ever stop it\nLittle thottie, thottarati choosin' everybody"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsBEBE Lyrics\n\nHaciendo el amor, a la misma vez t\u00fa te toca' (Te toca')\nBeb\u00e9, no te pasa nada, vu\u00e9lvete loca (Lo-loca-loca)\nY tu novio te trata mal, \u00e9l no te controla (No, no, no, no)\nHe said...\n\nMi diablita (-blita)\nElla se pone pornogr\u00e1fica en la intimidad (Baby)\nY su marido no la valora y la deja sola (La deja sola)\nY yo siempre la estoy esperando con mi pistola (-tola)\nY conmigo ella siempre se moja\n\nBebecita (Uah)\nTu hombre te ama pero t\u00fa le ere' infiel (Beb\u00e9)\nPorque t\u00fa ere' una diabla dentro de una mujer (Oh-oh, oh-oh)\nY cuando se esconde el sol t\u00fa quiere' beber, hija 'e Lucifer\nBebecita (Mi baby; uah, uah)\nTu hombre te ama pero t\u00fa le ere' infiel (\u00bfPor qu\u00e9-\u00e9-\u00e9?)\nPorque t\u00fa ere' una diabla dentro de una mujer (Muje-e-r)\nY cuando se esconde el sol, t\u00fa quieres beber, hija 'e Lucifer\n\nBaby, con ra-ta-ta-ta-ta\nBaby, yo soy tu criminal\nBaby go ra-ta-ta-ta-ta\nBaby, tu novio lo va a olvidar\nBaby, con ra-ta-ta-ta-ta\nBaby, conmigo te va' a mudar\nBaby, con ra-bang-bang-bang-bang\nBaby, do' un tiro', lo voa' matar (Pa' afuera)\n\u00bfPa' qu\u00e9?, \u00bfpa' qu\u00e9?, \u00bfpa' qu\u00e9?\n\u00bfPa' qu\u00e9 vas a serle fiel?\n\u00bfPa' qu\u00e9?, \u00bfpa' qu\u00e9?, \u00bfpa' qu\u00e9?\nBaby, olv\u00eddate de \u00e9l\nT\u00fa ere' mi diablita y yo soy tu demonio\nUn amor de manicomio\nY si te veo con \u00e9l, yo te odio\nSiempre me tiene' en insomnio\nYou might also like\nMedusa, Versace (Versace)\nSiempre hacemo' la \"sei'-nueve\" como Tekashi (Yeh-eh)\nY yo te rompo to' en secreto, Illuminati (-nati)\nY ella se baja conmigo en la disco en el Ferrari (-rrari)\nFumando mari (Uah)\nY t\u00fa te hiciste tu cuerpo, beb\u00e9, en R.D\nY chingamos y siempre nos venimos a la vez\nTe hice el amor y en tu piel me enred\u00e9\nY mi bicho en tu totito te tatu\u00e9\nOh-oh-oh (Uah)\nBeb\u00e9, t\u00fa eres m\u00eda, ese hombre olv\u00eddalo-o-o\nY rebota esas nalgas bail\u00e1ndome reggaet\u00f3-\u00f3-\u00f3n\n\nBebecita (Uah)\nTu hombre te ama pero t\u00fa le ere' infiel (Yeh-eh)\nPorque t\u00fa eres una diabla dentro de una mujer (Oh-oh, oh-oh)\nY cuando se esconde el sol t\u00fa quiere'  beber; hija 'e Lucifer (Oh-oh, oh-oh; uah)\nBebecita (Mi baby)\nTu hombre te ama pero t\u00fa le ere' infiel (\u00bfPor qu\u00e9?)\nPorque t\u00fa eres una diabla dentro de una mujer (-er)\nY cuando se esconde el sol t\u00fa quiere' beber; hija 'e Lucifer (Beber; -er)\n\nMi diablita (Mi nena)\nElla se pone pornogr\u00e1fica, no es t\u00edmida (M\u00edrame, mami)\nY su hombre no la valora, la deja sola (La deja sola, sola)\nY siempre la estoy esperando con mi pistola (Ra-pa-pa-pa)\nSiempre se enamora, mi diablita"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsKIKA Lyrics\nBitch, we in the city on that hot shit\nLookin' for a bitty on that thot shit\nY\u2019all ain't gettin' money, nigga, stop this\nI been \u2019round the globe talkin' hot shit\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nBitch, we in the city on that hot shit\nLookin' for a bitty on that thot shit\nY'all ain't gettin' money, nigga, stop this\nI been 'round the globe talkin' hot shit\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\n\nI do my own shit, I don\u2019t need 50 niggas to roll with\nFolk shit, I\u2019m on my doley, I'm on my boss shit\nI do my own shit, fuck all them niggas I used to roll with\nI know you used to see me with niggas, but that\u2019s that old shit\nReal nigga, quick to pull a fucking trigger\nFed nigga's definition of a real nigga\nFuck nigga, quick to fuckin' hate, nigga\nBitch nigga, definition of a bitch nigga\nNow wildin', ready for all the violence\nI don\u2019t need a nigga jacking that he riding\nI got this four fifth, this shit all up on my hip\nI blow that shit, now you where Bobby Shmurda's hat went!\nYou might also like\nBitch, we in the city on that hot shit\nLookin' for a bitty on that thot shit\nY'all ain't gettin' money, nigga, stop this\nI been 'round the globe talkin' hot shit\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\nI do my own stunts, Jackie Chan with it\n\nKick her out, I'm gettin' money now, actin' funny now\nThought she love me, but she only tryna fuck me for the clout\nSaw the Patek all bust down, charter run down\nBitch hit me on a touchdown, but I curved it\nThey be beggin' me to keep the bitch, but I don't need the bitch\nRay Charles, John Cena shit, I can't see the bitch\nIn the DM sendin' naked pics, Uber that bitch\nBut I send her in the pool even though I'm rich as shit\n\nIt's fuckin' Tr\u2014\nOh wait, I forgot you can't say that shit\nYou can go start with everything else that start with a T, though\nIt's fuckin' Trojan\nIt's fuckin' Target\nIt's fuckin'\u2014\nHahahaha"}
{"text":"Catch an asthma attack, the way we pull up on ya\nPut the pump to his chest, make a nigga cough up\nYou a bum and you stressed, and that's why you lost her\nMet a nigga from the X, niggas need to boss up\nShe gon' eat, you want beef, but this ain't no burger\nAll my songs on repeat, that's what's up, your word up\nI was young with the heat, walkin' 'round with burners\nWishin' I could wish for anything like Timmy Turner\n\nNa-na-oh, nah-oh\nNa-na-oh, nah-oh\nNa-na-oh, nah-oh\n\nWhy this bitch tryna play me? Are you crazy?\nPocket rocket in my cargos, like the Navy\nPut this Tommy to his brain, please, like he Brady\nHeartbreakin' on the daily, can you save me?\nWhy is bitches tryna play me? Are you crazy?\nI can't let her have my baby, you not my baby\nI can't let her have my baby, I'm actin' shady\nHeartbreaking on the daily, can you save me?\n\nY'all gotta move, give me some room, I'm 'bout to shoot\nBoom! Everybody runnin' out the room\nBoom! Everybody beggin' \"Don't shoot\"\nBoom! Nigga, who the fuck asked you?\nYou a bum, are you dumb? Try me, I got this gun\nRun, nigga, if I'm here, don't come\nBitch, you was expectin' for me to hit\nThat's a dub, I know you put a hole in that shit\nYou might also like\nSawed off in the damn drawer\nGot the .30 in my drawers, gotta hold my pants up\nOnly time she ever call is for the banana\nI don't even check my call log, I don't answer\n\nWhy this bitch tryna play me? Are you crazy?\nPocket rocket in my cargos, like the Navy\nPut this Tommy to his brain, please, like he Brady\nHeartbreakin' on the daily, can you save me?\n\nWhy this bitch tryna play me? Is she crazy?\nThat bitch know I'm number one, like Tracy McGrady\nKnow I got this .380, it's on safety\nI know all these niggas hate me, won't let it faze me\nFuck nigga\n\nI'ma swerve in the Maybach, I'ma do some damage\nNiggas sit the fuck down if you don't understand us\nI heard niggas talkin' 'bout they gon' run down on us\nPull up windows down in the fuckin' Lamb' truck\n\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na-na-na-na, yeah\nScott Storch"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsTIC TOC Lyrics\nYung Lan on the track\n\nOkay, tick tock, Audemars wrist watch\nI keep a stick, I keep a big Glock\nYou get hit, I do not miss shots\nI keep a stick, I tell her, \"Kick rocks\"\nOkay, get rocks, wrist go drip, drop\nI do not kiss, you making shit hot\nYou think I'm dumb, I ain't no kid\nThought you was in love\nYou ain't my bitch, nah\n\nShe on my drip drop\nShe ain't never went both ways, but I made them lip lock\nLeft her at the condo for days, she was at the tip top\nMight as well throw away the key, I got the streets locked\nI been drinkin' all this lean, I know I need to stop\nHoppin' out of stolen cars, and we shoot chops at opps\nTwo flooded out Rolexes, they don't tick or tock\nLemme catch your lil' shorty, she gettin' picked apart\nEverything up to par\n\nI got them big rocks in my ear, nuggets\nI got my whole team flooded\nSaks Off Fifth, I'm with your bitch\nShe buying everything I wanted\nShe fly me out to Waikiki\nLV all on her bikini\nTake her money, go Houdini\nI call her when I want eat-eat\nOn my feet, you see them CC's\nNeck and ears, you see them VV's\nOn my jeans, you see them GG's\nTreat that bitch like she a fefe\nBig body Benz, that's beep-beep\nHit it in the back of the Jeep-Jeep\nThat bitch know she a freak-freak\nAnd the pussy staying on leak-leak\nYou might also like\nOkay, tick tock, Audemars wrist watch\nI keep a stick, I keep a big Glock\nYou get hit, I do not miss shots\nI keep a stick, I tell her, \"Kick rocks\"\nOkay, get rocks, wrist go drip, drop\nI do not kiss, you making shit hot\nYou think I'm dumb, I ain't no kid\nThought you was in love\nYou ain't my bitch, nah"}
{"text":"M-M-M-Murda\n\nShe want me, I ain't want her, ooh\nShe want me to be her boo\nYou so silly, don't get it confused\nNow turn around, drop it low, pick it up, ooh\nBig bank, we gettin' paid over here\nBroke niggas, go stand over there\nFake ass hoes, go meet 'em over there\nLittle booties, they matter over here\nNow stop\n\nWait a minute, now I'm back at it\nBack at it like a mothafuckin' crack addict\nSex addict, I'm a mothafuckin' sex addict\nHit shorty from the back, got her back crackin'\nBack crackin', b-back crackin'\nI love ho bitches, that's my fuckin' problem\nYeah, I like to fuck hoes, I got a fuckin' problem\nBang, bang, bang and a chicken wing, bitch\nYeah, I know you love how I put it down, bitch\nDrop down and pick your weave up, girl\nDrop down and get your Eagle on, girl\nHead downtown and pick the eaters up, girl\nYou know them chicken-heads eat it up, girl\nYou might also like\nShe want me, I ain't want her, ooh\nShe want me to be her boo\nYou so silly, don't get it confused\nNow turn around, drop it low, pick it up, ooh\nBig bank, we gettin' paid over here\nBroke niggas, go stand over there\nFake ass hoes, go meet 'em over there\nLittle booties, they matter over here\n\nThat pussy get wetter than yours\nThat head is better than yours\nI flew her out so I could fuck on tour\nFlew her back 'cause my girlfriend saw her\nThey tried to say I wasn't black no more\nAbout as black as Macklemore\nThey don't like me 'cause I'm Mexican\nSent me back, now I'm back again\nUh, just bought a piece of Fashion Nova\nYour girlfriend look like a ogre\nNigga, fat bitches need love too\nMy fault, Ye, I wasn't sober\nWho the fuck gon' listen to Ebro? (Ebro)\nAll these niggas so emo\nFuck that nigga, I'm the mothafuckin' shit\nAnother old nigga on a young nigga dick\nN-N-Niggas tried to say that I was canceled (Canceled)\nWhen I asked them questions, couldn't answer\nHow Ye? How Ye? How, Sway? Nigga it's fucking-\nYo, chill, chill, chill, chill, chill, woah, woah, woah\nYou cannot say that, bro, c'mon\n\nShe want me, I ain't want her, ooh\nShe want me to be her boo\nYou so silly, don't get it confused\nNow turn around, drop it low, pick it up, ooh\nBig bank, we gettin' paid over here\nBroke niggas, go stand over there\nFake ass hoes, go meet 'em over there\nLittle booties, they matter over here\nNow stop"}
{"text":"I'ma do my dance in this bih (I'ma do my dance)\nShe front on me, I throw bands at the bih\nAll up in my pants and I'm rich (Yeah)\nAll up on the couch dancing on shit, yeah\nPay me in advance, off rip (Off rip)\nTell lil' mama do the dance on the dick (On the dick)\nShooter with me got his hands on the strr (Hands)\nBrrt brrt, we ain't throwin' hands in this bitch, no (Throwin' hands)\n\nWe ain't throwin' hands in this bih (Throw a couple hands)\nThrow a couple bands in the bih (I'ma throw a couple bands)\nTell the bitches do the dance on the dick\nHandstand off the bando and she lit, lit\n\nI ain't playin' with no wannabe tough nigga\nI ain't playin' with no wannabe thug nigga\nIn the hood, you a rat, you a dub, nigga, fuck nigga\nI stay with the blicky, glttt-pow, are you dumb nigga?\nIf a nigga feel froggy, let him through, let him through\nStandin' right in your face, nigga, do what you do\nBig homie look at me, like shoot, I'm like, \"Who?\"\nI got the big MAC, kick-back, blow your whole shit back\nBitch, move\nWhen I walk up in the room, bitch, move\nWho was talkin' shit, I'm killing shit, like boom\nBet he want static 'til they see me, like move\nBut there he go right there, boom-boom-boom!\nYou might also like\nWe ain't throwin' hands in this bih (Throw a couple hands)\nThrow a couple bands in the bih (I'ma throw a couple bands)\nTell the bitches do the dance on the dick\nHandstand off the bando and she lit, lit\nWe ain't throwin' hands in this bih (Throw a couple hands)\nThrow a couple bands in the bih (I'ma throw a couple bands)\nTell the bitches do the dance on the dick\nHandstand off the bando and she lit, lit\n\nWoo! I got my money and my\u2060\u2014mm\nBitch, I said I got my money and my Ritalin (Yeah)\nI got Rolls-Royces, I got coupes, I paid tuitions (Skrr)\nMy diamonds 12 different colors like a sissy (Eugh)\nYeah, Patek Philippes, I forgot to mention (Patek Philippes)\nI got suspended, I didn't have to do the dishes (Yeah, yeah)\nI did it up and I didn't never ever listen (And what?)\n20 cars deep, we ain't worried about winnin' (Nah)\n6ix9ine (Yeah), bang red like Heinz\nI'm a snake, nigga, 6 shots in ya spine (Woo, woo, woo)\nMoney call me, I'ma pick up every time (Brrt, brrt)\nAnd I got the bands in this bitch, yeah\n\nWe ain't throwin' hands in this bih (Throw a couple hands)\nThrow a couple bands in the bih (I'ma throw a couple bands)\nTell the bitches do the dance on the dick\nHandstand off the bando and she lit, lit\nWe ain't throwin' hands in this bih (Throw a couple hands)\nThrow a couple bands in the bih (I'ma throw a couple bands)\nTell the bitches do the dance on the dick\nHandstand off the bando and she lit, lit\nScum Gang!"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishMALA Lyrics\n\nBrr\n(Haha! Anuel)\nAnuel\nReal Hasta La Muerte, baby\nUah\n\n\u00bfQu\u00e9 tengo que hacer\nPa' que t\u00fa sea' mi mujer?\nBaby, dime qu\u00e9 tengo que hacer\nHe said, \"Mi nena\"\n\nT\u00fa ere' una diabla\nY t\u00fa ere' mala\nBaby, no te vaya'\nM\u00e1tame-eh\nT\u00fa ere' una diabla\nY t\u00fa ere' mala\nBaby, no te vaya'\nDev\u00f3rame-eh\n\nOh-oh-oh-oh\nS\u00e9 que me extra\u00f1a'\nOh-oh-oh-oh\nT\u00fa en mi cama\nBaby, t\u00fa ere' mala\nT\u00fa en mi cama\nBaby, no te vaya'\nDev\u00f3rame-eh, uah\nYou might also like\n\u00bfQu\u00e9 tengo que hacer\nPa' que t\u00fa sea' mi mujer?\nBaby, \u00bfdime qu\u00e9 tengo que hacer\nPa' que t\u00fa sea' mi mujer?\nUah (Uah)\n\u00bfQu\u00e9 tengo que hacer (Beb\u00e9)\nPa' que t\u00fa sea' mi mujer? (Beb\u00e9)\nBaby, \u00bfdime qu\u00e9 tengo que hacer (Que hacer)\nPa' que t\u00fa sea' mi mujer? (Mujer)\n\nYo voy con lo' diablo' pa' all\u00e1\nVen con tus amigas pa' ac\u00e1\nRebota esas nalga' pa' ac\u00e1\nY nos vamo' y nos comemo' all\u00e1 (All\u00e1)\nYo voy con los diablo pa' all\u00e1, pa' all\u00e1 (Beb\u00e9)\nBaby, ven con tus amigas pa' ac\u00e1, pa' ac\u00e1 (Beb\u00e9)\nRebota esas nalga' pa' atr\u00e1', pa' atr\u00e1' (Pa' all\u00e1)\nY nos vamo' y nos comemo' all\u00e1 (All\u00e1)\n\nBaby, t\u00fa ere' mala\nT\u00fa en mi cama\nBaby, no te vaya'\nDev\u00f3rame-eh, uah\nT\u00fa ere' una diabla\nY t\u00fa ere' mala\nBaby, no te vaya'\nM\u00e1tame-eh\nOh-oh-oh-oh (Baby)\nBebiendo baila\nOh-oh-oh-oh\nDiabla en mi cama\n\nDos mil, Louboutin los tacone' (Tacone')\nElla se emborracha y en cuatro se pone (Se pone)\nY siempre me pide que no la traicione (Jaja)\nY siempre lo hacemo', pero sin condone', eh-eh (Uah)\nY se me trepa encima (Encima)\nY 't\u00e1 to' moja'o el clima (El clima)\nY con la perla yo voy pa' encima (Uah)\nY me dice: \"Qu\u00e9 rico t\u00fa me lastimas\", uah\nSudando y bail\u00e1ndome (Eh-eh)\nCaliente y toc\u00e1ndome (Eh-eh)\nY ella no para de beber (Beber)\nY adentro 'e ti yo vo' a enloquecer\n\nT\u00fa ere' una diabla\nY t\u00fa ere' mala\nBaby, no te vaya'\nM\u00e1tame-eh\nBaby, t\u00fa ere' mala\nT\u00fa en mi cama\nBaby, no te vaya'\nDev\u00f3rame-eh (Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)\nReal Hasta La Muerte, baby\nReal Hasta La Muerte, baby\nUah\nMira, dime 6ix9ine, lo' Intocable', lo' Illuminati\nBrr, Anuel\nUah, uah\nBebecita\nBebe-Bebecita"}
{"text":"63 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easDeutschPUNANI Lyrics\nNasty, nasty, nasty\nNasty, nasty, nasty, yeah\n\nShake it, fat punani-nani, fat punani-nani\nThat tsunami-nami, that tsunami-nami\nFat punani-nani,\u2005fat\u2005punani-nani\nThat tsunami-nami, that\u2005tsunami-nami (Jah, ayy, you know that\u2005boy)\nFat punani-nani, fat punani-nani\nThat tsunami-nami, that tsunami-nami\nFat punani-nani, fat punani-nani\nThat\u205ftsunami-nami,\u205fthat\u205ftsunami-nami\n\nJiggy lil' bitch,\u205fjiggle on the\u205fdick\nWatery, she puckerin' and shit\nGuzzle, guzzle it\nEat it, she a doggie ass bitch\nMuzzle up her shit\nShe just want the ecstasy and shit\nTrippy, trippy in this bitch\nYeah, that bitch'll pop it if I tip her\nBend her up, dick her\nPockets on Monopoly, big-big spender\nBig-big tipper, big-big trigger\nBig-big pockets on my big-big dick-a, uh\nYou might also like\nFat punani-nani, fat punani-nani\nThat tsunami-nami, that tsunami-nami\nFat punani-nani, fat punani-nani\nThat tsunami-nami, that tsunami-nami\n\nMake it nasty, nasty, nasty (Oh)\nMake it nasty, nasty, nasty (Oh)\nMake it nasty, nasty, nasty (Oh)\nMake it nasty, nasty, nasty (Oh)\n\nI know a hundred lil' niggas, hundred lil' niggas\nThat'll really hunt a lil' nigga, hurt a lil' nigga\nYou's a lil' bummy lil' nigga, dirty lil' nigga\nYou's a lil' bummy lil' nigga, ugly ass nigga (Oh)\nNiggas act dumb when I act dumb-dumb\nTell 'em don't act dumb 'cause I'm dumber (Oh)\nHow many shots could a nigga duck-duck?\nTell 'em duck down 'fore he get boomed\n\nFat punani-nani, fat punani-nani\nThat tsunami-nami, that tsunami-nami\nFat punani-nani, fat punani-nani\nThat tsunami-nami, that tsunami-nami\n(Oh)\n(Oh)\n(Oh)\n(Oh)"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsFEEFA Lyrics\nTrapped on one stop, served my own block, bought my own watch (Own watch)\nLoaded Glock, lettin' that thing pop (Pop), they can't freeze us (Freeze us)\nSkybox, we been at the top, they can't see us (See us)\nBig knots, fuck the dirty cops (Hey Michael)\nThey can't seize nothin'\nBig shot, fuck that little thot, I don't need y'all\nI stay high, fucked her and forgot, like amnesia\nReal fly, yellow Prada socks, bumblebee, uh\nI'm that guy, Dior suit and tie, fresh and clean, uh\n\nThe streets so cold, gotta ride wit' a pole\nGotta stay ready for the smoke, 'cause niggas tryna take my soul\nI can't go\nThought niggas was my bros, but they changed though\nNiggas don't know shit 'bout that\nHow the fuck a nigga switch like that?\nGotta ride with a stick 'bout that\nPull a grip from the hip like that\nKeep it around me, I can't never lack\nNiggas around me, they stay with the strap\nMove from around me, or you could get whacked\nI see an opp and I'm leavin' him flat, oh-oh\n\nPercocet, bitches on me, I'm a walkin' brand\nStackin' these bands, show like 80 a grand, hoes in the Sprinter van\nPullin' up sprayin', bullet holes in the trash cans, I'ma erase your man\nGunna again, I'll never follow your trend, nigga, you do what you can\nYou might also like\nTrapped on one stop, served my own block, bought my own watch (Own watch)\nLoaded Glock, lettin' that thing pop (Pop), they can't freeze us (Freeze us)\nSkybox, we been at the top, they can't see us (See us)\nBig knots, fuck the dirty cops, they can't seize nothin'\nBig shot, fuck that little thot, I don't need y'all\nI stay high, fucked her and forgot, like amnesia\nReal fly, yellow Prada socks, bumblebee, uh\nI'm that guy, Dior suit and tie, fresh and clean, uh\n\nI can't sleep, just took 'em off the team\nHad to break it down to three\nGet on one knee\nI prayed to the Lord that He'd watch my family\nThinking this bitch gon' wait on me\nThinking my fans remember me\nThinking my friends remember me\nNigga, don't switch up on me\nCan't tell me shit, 'specially not no bitch\nTen for ten with this shit\nI'ma still drop these hits, I'ma still pop my shit\nGot a Draco with the kick\nGlock .30, hollow tips\nRide around with that shit all on my hip\nSee an opp, let it hit\nLately, I been on some \"suck my dick\" shit\nBitch, I'm stressin', oh, bitch, I'm stressin'\nMama sayin', \"Don't cry, count your blessings\"\nI can't sleep, I can't sleep\n(Hey, Michael)\nI can't, uh"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsBlood Walk Lyrics\nAkademiks Music\nSuwoo!\nGltt, brra, brra, brra, brr, brr\nLet's bang, nigga\n\nBlood Walk\nThey don't really understand how my fuckin' Blood talk\nRed flag, red Chucks, when the motherfuckin' Blood walk\nWhen you hear \"Suwoo\", that's the motherfuckin' Blood call (suwoo, yeah)\n100K, you can come and book a nigga for a Blood walk\n\nAkademiks Music\nDamo Prende, motherfuckers\nThis is that Black Wall Street\nThat bad-ass motivation\nThat Nine Trey gangster shit, baby\nThis is TR3YWAY\n\nI keep a red flag hangin' out my backside\nOnly on the right side, yeah, that's the Blood side\nAnd I'm bangin' East-Side\nShoutout to the West-Side, but I'm bangin' Red-Stuy\nNigga, I ran into the Blood (To the Blood)\nI done ran into the cuz (To the cuz)\nGet it, cuz show me love (Show me love)\nSo we both throw it up (Ooh)\nSuwoo, you gon' hear that (You gon' hear that)\nWhen a nigga \"woo\", nigga, \"woo\" back (Nigga, \"woo\" back)\nLa-di-da-di, love to party (They love to party)\nAyo, Shotti, start the party (Boom, boom, boom)\nYou might also like\nBlood Walk\nThey don't really understand how my fuckin' Blood talk\nRed flag, red Chucks, when the motherfuckin' Blood walk\nWhen you hear \"Suwoo\", that's the motherfuckin' Blood call (suwoo, yeah)\n100K, you can come and book a nigga for a Blood walk"}
{"text":"Boom, boom, uh\n(Ayo, Ray, where the keys at?)\n\nHear that hot shit, we really pop shit\nWhen we shot shit, you copped it, we really drop shit\nWho got the keys to the locksmith? I'm finna flock shit\nY'all be all up on my dick like this gon' make y'all profit, look\nHit his matha-tha, that shit go bananas, na-na, na-na-na\nI don't beef with Gerbers, he a baby, goo-goo, ga-ga-ga\nGrra-ta-ta, .40 hit him, make him do the cha-cha-cha\nNah, nah, nah, I don't want the block, I want the ZaZa\nAre you dumb? You ain't spin a block, you a damn lie\nSuck a dick, you ain't kill shit, you let your mans die\nTell me you not feelin' shit 'cause we was killin' shit\n'Member days when we was hittin' shit, don't want to reminisce\nLook, lil' shawty got the body-ody, ody-ody\nSlimy mouth, she gave m\u0435 sloppy-toppy in the Maserati\nAre you dumb? Wh\u0435re couldn't I come?\nAre you dumb? When you see me, you better run\nYou got your gun? They caught that nigga lackin' like a bitch\nThey killed your cousin and your man, and you still ain't do shit\n\nAnd we still screamin' out \"Gang, gang, gang,\" look\nFree the guys in the chain-gang-gang\nFinna go insane, let it bang, bang, bang\nI'ma up this chopper, get out my way\nYou might also like\nGet out my way I'm comin' through, boom\nGo get your fans up, he in the dirt, go pick your mans up\nDummy, like fuck a booth, go get a strap, look\nIt's funny, your man is never comin' back\nBoy, you dumb enough, dumb or what?\nAin't no fightin', boy, that gun is up, go try runnin' up\nShe keep sendin' me emoji hearts, she tryna fuck or what?\nGirl, I'm good, already fucked enough, but you could suck me up\n\nAnd we still screamin' out \"Gang, gang, gang,\" look\nFree the guys in the chain-gang-gang\nFinna go insane, let it bang, bang, bang\nI'ma up this chopper, get out my way"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7e\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easEnglishYAYA Lyrics\n\nRansom got that sauce in it\nSe pinta los labio', hoy no tiene horario\nQuiere que la\u2005busque\u2005en la Lambo\nEsta\u2005noche coronamo'\nDale, para terminar lo que\u2005empezamo'\nOh-oh, baila morena, baila morena\nOh-oh, baila morena, baila morena (Baila,\u205fbaila)\nOh-oh,\u205fbaila\u205fmorena, baila morena\nOh-oh,\u205foh-oh\n\nUna nena as\u00ed\u205fme hac\u00eda falta\nQue metiera mi mano por su falda\nSe ve que no e' santa\nEs como yo, que le gusta la maldad\nDale, baby, no sea' mala\nNo pare' de moverte que eso me encanta\nBebecita, dame una, una proba\u00edta'\nT\u00fa ere' una mamacita\nCuando chingamo', baby, t\u00fa nunca te quita'\nMueve to' ese booty, tan chulita como Anitta\n\nT\u00fa 't\u00e1 dura, manina, nini, yaya\nDame tequila, no quiero vaina'\nBaila, le subo la mini, yaya\nTr\u00e1eme bebida, no quiero agua\nQuiero manina, nini, yaya (Yaya, yaya)\nDame tequila, no quiero vaina' (Yaya, yaya)\nBaila, le subo la mini, yaya\nTr\u00e1eme bebida, no quiero agua\nYou might also like\nPonte friki, frikitona\nT\u00fa ere' una chapi-chapiadora\nElla e' bellaqu\u00edsima, pero no se enamora\nMami, y chingando hay que darte un diploma\nNinguna se te iguala\nElla me dice: \"Vente, papi\", me la saca (Saca)\nY me baila flow Shakira, waka-waka (Waka)\nElla tiene culo bello pero e' flaca\nLa baby e' flaca\n\nQuiero manina, nini, yaya\nDame tequila, no quiero vaina'\nBaila, le subo la mini, yaya\nTr\u00e1eme bebida, no quiero agua\n\nLa baby 't\u00e1 borracha\nRakat\u00e1, rakat\u00e1, rakat\u00e1, rakat\u00e1\nRakat\u00e1, rakat\u00e1, rakat\u00e1, rakat\u00e1\nMami, ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta\nTa-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta\nTa-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta\nTa-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta\nTa-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta\nQuiero mainini, nini, yaya\nDame tequila, no quiero vaina'\nBaila, le subo la mini, yaya\nTr\u00e1eme bebida, no quiero agua\n\nLuian\nMambo Kingz\nJowny\nBF\n(Fya, fya, fya, fya)"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easGIN\u00c9 Lyrics\nThey be sayin' this and that, all that shit is cap\nPull up on 'em real life, like where the energy at?\nI shot you, I robbed you and y'all didn't do nothin' back\nRemember that? Niggas lack\nY'all ain't do nothin' back, but make tracks\nSuck dick, nigga, eat my sack\nI shot at all y'all rappers, real life, no cap\nThe feds charged me for that, whole fuckin' case\nSo eat a dick, lil' nigga, don't watch my face\nAin't no bitty bad, run up on a nigga, give me that\nWhere your jewelry at? Stupid lil' nigga, give me that\nWhere your blicky at? Pull up on him, make it brrah\nBitch, you know that when I see you we gon' make it brrah\nI got this flicky, flicky, flicky shot, make him Milly Rock\nSilly Blicky, called it glizzy shop, made 'em Diddy Bop\nStill be posted by the chicken spot, 'cause my city hot\nSilencer, that shit go, \"Shh,\" but this .40 blick a shot\n\nI got this Mickey, Mickey, moppy-moppy-mop-mop\nLook, you could catch a shot-sh-shot-sh-shot-shot\nWatch him twirl, then he drop-d-drop-d-drop-drop\nI got the game on lock-l-lock-l-lock-lock\n\nRing around the rosie, still keep it on me\nFuck a lil' semi, nigga, I'm comin' with this choppa\nBullet that just hit him, he won't make it to the doctor\nStand over his body, kick his head like it's soccer\nYour man got shot and you made a diss track\nGo get a gun and get some get-back\nYour man got shot, he not comin' back\nGo get a gun and get some get-back\nYou a bitch, I knew you wouldn't ride for your homie\nI knew you wouldn't ride by your doley\nThey be on my dick, but if you know me, then you know me\nCouple chains, good drip and the Rollie too swollie, look\nBig watch, big Cuban, talk weird\nSend addy, my guys come in\nNo smiles, no games, fun where?\nDie today, can't get away, fun where?\nYou might also like\nI got this Mickey, Mickey, moppy-moppy-mop-mop\nLook, you could catch a shot-sh-shot-sh-shot-shot\nWatch him twirl, then he drop-d-drop-d-drop-drop\nI got the game on lock-l-lock-l-lock-lock\nI got this Mickey, Mickey, moppy-moppy-mop-mop\nLook, you could catch a shot-sh-shot-sh-shot-shot\nWatch him twirl, then he drop-d-drop-d-drop-drop\nI got the game on lock-l-lock-l-lock-lock"}
{"text":"38 Contributors69 Lyrics\nSuperstaar Beats\n\nShe suck my dick until she choke, she drink until her liver pop\nI swear I only love her when that ki' up in her fuckin' twat\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring it back\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring it back\nI eat her with my golds in, I fuck her 'til she swollen (Yeah)\nI eat her with my golds in, I fuck her 'til she swollen (Yeah)\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring my racks\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring my racks\n\nShe keep calling me, texting me, blowing up my fuckin' phone\nAnd I ain't even fuck that bitch, all I did was catch the dome\nSteady knocking on my door, I ain't even fucking home\nBitches swinging on my dick, won't leave me the fuck alone\nBitch, leave me the fuck alone, bitch, leave me the fuck alone\nI'm just riding with my dogs, we just tryna catch a bone\nJust a squirrel, in this world, tryna bust a fuckin' nut\nF-C-U and fuck a smut, why y'all fuckboys come for smut?\nNigga where they do that at\nWhen the MAC clap, it's a dooby wrap\nIt\u2019s a jack move, black, so your better run that\n'Fore my Jack boys make that Ruger clap\nDon't make me take my razor and open ya face up\nDon't make me take my razor and open ya face up\nFronts in, these ain't grills, homie\nScum Life, this ain't trill, homie\nGive a fuck about how you feel, homie\nGot a .38 and some pills on me\nGot a lesbian bitch, sucking my dick\nShe know I ain't shit, but she still on me\nStill on me, still on me\nShe know I ain't shit, but she still on me\nYou might also like\nShe suck my dick until she choke, she drink until her liver pop\nI swear I only love her when that ki' up in her fuckin' twat\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring it back\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring it back\nI eat her with my golds in, I fuck her 'til she swollen (Yeah)\nI eat her with my golds in, I fuck her 'til she swollen (Yeah)\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring my racks\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring my racks\n\nBitch gave me the twinkle eye, cause she don't wanna wait in line\nI told her: \"Patience is a virtue, baby, you should take your time\"\nQuit wasting mine, Wallah Dan from that ScumGang69\nScumLife 'til the day I die, ScumLife 'til the day I die\nMy momma told me change my life, but did I listen? Hell no!\nMy preacher told me change my life, but did I listen? Hell no!\nMy teacher told me change my life, but did I listen? Hell no!\nI rep that ScumLife69 until I burn in Hell, yo\n\nShe suck my dick until she choke, she drink until her liver pop\nI swear I only love her when that ki' up in her fuckin' twat\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring it back\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring it back\nI eat her with my golds in, I fuck her 'til she swollen (Yeah)\nI eat her with my golds in, I fuck her 'til she swollen (Yeah)\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring my racks\nBust it open, bring it back, bust it open, bring my racksEmbed"}
{"text":"56 ContributorsTranslationsEspa\u00f1ol\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easTUTU Lyrics\nI get money when I want to\nI get bitches when I want to\nTote this pistol\u2005when\u2005I want to\nMoney\u2005dance step, hit the one-two\n\nYou can't\u2005bop like this (Uh, uh)\nEverybody want my swag, everybody want my drip (Uh, uh)\nHad to tell 'em, \"Back-back,\" tell 'em get off my dick (Uh, uh)\nWatch me do the money-dance, watch me hit my skip (Uh, uh)\nBet you can't do it like this, no, you can't do it like this\n\nI get money when I want to\nI get bitches when I want to\nTote this pistol when I want to\nMoney dance step, hit the one-two\nOh you paid? Well, bitch, I'm paid too\nDon't talk to me, I talk to you\nIf it's fuck me, then it's fuck you\nYeah, it's middle finger, fuck you\n\nEverybody know I got bands on the way\nYes, I make, yes, I make bands every day\nEverybody been knew that I'm gettin' paid\nThat I'm gettin', that I'm gettin', that I'm gettin' paid\nYou might also like\n'Cause you can't bop like this (Uh, uh)\nEverybody want my swag, everybody want my drip (Uh, uh)\nHad to tell 'em, \"Back-back,\" tell 'em get off my dick (Uh, uh)\nWatch me do the money-dance, watch me hit my skip (Uh, uh)\nBet you can't do it like this, no, you can't do it like this\n\nI get money when I want to\nI get bitches when I want to (Uhh-uh)\nTote this pistol when I want to (Uhh-uh)\nMoney dance step, hit the one-two (Uhh-uh)\nOh you paid? Well, bitch, I'm paid too (Uhh-uh)\nDon't talk to me, I talk to you (Uhh-uh)\nIf it's fuck me, then it's fuck you (Uhh-uh)\nYeah, it's middle finger, fuck you (Uhh-uh, uh)\n\nMoney coming in, money going out\nRappers coming in, rappers going out\nFunny how they tryna take my style\nFunny how they tryna break me down\nY'all niggas better watch y'all mouth\nY'all starting to sound like clowns\nAll these rappers wanna talk that clout\nI don't know what that's about\nThey wanna rap like this, they wanna talk like this\nThey wanna walk like this, they wanna look like this\nThey wanna be like this, they wanna bop like this\nThey wanna chart like this, niggas, suck my dick\nYou can't do this 'cause you ain't me\nIt drives you niggas crazy\nIt keeps you up at night (Night, night)\n'Cause you can't bop like this (Uh, uh)\nEverybody want my swag, everybody want my drip (Uh, uh)\nHad to tell 'em, \"Back-back,\" tell 'em get off my dick (Uh, uh)\nWatch me do the money-dance, watch me hit my skip (Uh, uh)\nBet you can't do it like this, no, you can't do it like this\n\nI get money when I want to\nI get bitches when I want to\nTote this pistol when I want to\nMoney dance step, hit the one-two\nOh you paid? Well, bitch, I'm paid too (Hoo)\nDon't talk to me, I talk to you (Oh-woah)\nIf it's fuck me, then it's fuck you (Oh-woah)\nYeah, it's middle finger, fuck you (Yeah)"}
{"text":"72 Contributors93 Lyrics\nScum Gang!\n\nBang! Run up, kick the door\nBang! Fuckin' up that pole\nBang! Nigga want that smoke\nBang! Niggas do that talk\nBang! Fuck all that talking, let's go\nBang! Niggas don't want war\nBang! Fuck all that talking, let's go\nBang! Niggas don't want war\n\nTEKA$HI69 don't fold, boy\nTEKA$HI69 on \"go\", boy\nTEKA$HI69 tote poles, boy\nTekashi gon' let that go, boy\nWith that black .44, boy\nShoot you through your cross, boy\nLeave you in a hole, boy\nYou gon' get exposed, boy\nPull up with the Glocks out, red dots out\nPull the mops out and the chops out, niggas air it out\nGo all out, when we back out, that's a blackout\nShooters all go, they don't clock out\nThat's\u2013That's a man down, when we rain down\nWe don't play around, you get laid down\nYou gon' stay down, throw shade now\nGet flamed now, you erased now\nLeave you face down on the playground\nPull up on a nigga, two-deep\nNiggas talkin' shit so I wanna' go see 'em\nIn a nigga city, ride around with the heat\nPop out, Glocks out, niggas ain't tryna speak\nFire on me, boy must be brazy nigga, uh\nRainbow lasers nigga, uh\nCut your face with a razor nigga, uh\nAmbulance can't save you, nigga\nYou might also like\nBang! Run up, kick the door\nBang! Fuckin' up that pole\nBang! Nigga want that smoke\nBang! Niggas do that talk\nBang! Fuck all that talking, let's go\nBang! Niggas don't want war\nBang! Fuck all that talking, let's go\nBang! Niggas don't want war\n\nBoy, you know you ain't thuggin', nigga\nYou ain't really on nothin', nigga, you don't want no trouble, nigga\nYou a fumble, nigga, you don't want it with my huddle, nigga\nUnder pressure, you'll crumble, nigga\nQuit frontin', nigga, boy, you need to be humble, nigga\nTen toes, I don't stumble, nigga, double-double, nigga\nTen shots, ten clips, one clip, I don't got no jumper, nigga\nMan, I swear this shit no fair\nYou don't wanna end up in them crosshairs\nLeave a nigga froze up in his Moncler\nACOG on his mug, make 'em more clear\nAnd I swear that them niggas deserve it, uh\nNiggas they snakes, they serpents, uh\nThey pussy and that is my verdict, uh\nRetaliate then we burnin' 'em\nI bust and I know that I'm hurtin' 'em\nShe suckin' him off the Percy, uh\nShe love me, she say I'm so perfect, uh\nThat's your bitch? She suckin' my posse up\nWe squaded, we lookin' like a mafia\nI'm booted, I pop me a molly, uh\nI'm geekin', I'm rowdy, I'm fired up\nI wish a little nigga would try and run up\nBang!"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsDUMMY Lyrics\nDaytrip took it to ten (Hey)\n\nI spent some days in the trap and got my money up (Yeah)\nBust it down, the Rollie, now she tryna fuck (Yeah, ah)\nAnd now she fiendin' all up on me just like I\u2019m a drug (Yeah)\nI remember back when y'all wouldn't show me love (Yeah, ah)\nJaguar truck on the freeway (Woah)\nYou can catch me ballin\u2019 on the replay (Woah, oh)\nSaint Laurent jacket, it's 3K (Woah)\nI been with the same gang since Pre-K' (Woah, oh)\n\nGet the money, stack it with my niggas\nI remember trappin' with my niggas\nNow we overseas in a villa\nGoin' back, we won't consider\nI remember days we was starvin'\nStill finessin', we was juggin\u2019, we was robbin\u2019\nI was comin' off the bench, I wasn\u2019t starting\nNow I'm out here ballin' like I'm Harden\nAnd I make sure my day ones straight, stay with my gang\nYou ain\u2019t fuckin' with me, you can stay out my way\nStay in your lane, fuck your campaign, yeah\nLast year, I was sleepin' in a basement\nNow the foreign lookin' like a spaceship\nBust down the gang with the bag, yeah\nAll the money on me, holographic\nYou might also like\nI spent some days in the trap and got my money up (Yeah)\nBust it down, the Rollie, now she tryna fuck (Yeah, ah)\nAnd now she fiendin' all up on me just like I'm a drug (Yeah)\nI remember back when y'all wouldn't show me love (Yeah, ah)\nJaguar truck on the freeway (Woah)\nYou can catch me ballin' on the replay (Woah, oh)\nSaint Laurent jacket, it's 3K (Woah)\nI been with the same gang since Pre-K' (Woah, oh)\n\nWe was down and we was out, and bitches looked at us stupid\nIt was hating ass niggas, so I kept me a Ruger\nSending shots to his body, make him sing like Ozuna\nThey was running out they mouth, but they respected the shooter\nWe was down and we was out, and bitches looked at us stupid\nIt was hating ass niggas, so I kept me a Ruger\nSending shots to his body, make him sing like Ozuna\nThey was running out they mouth, but they respected the shooter, yeah\nBlocked blocks, sent shots\nThrew that shit in reverse, then we bending through your block\nBlocked blocks, sent shots\nThrew that shit in reverse, then we bending through your block\nWatch his body Milly Rock, yeah"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7e\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easLOCKED UP, PT. 2 Lyrics\nAll this time that I spent up in here\nGot me thinkin' 'bout the things that\u2005I\u2005did\nGot me thinkin'\u2005like, \"Why the fuck I did\u2005that?\"\nGot me wishin' that I could take it all back\nFighting\u205fwith\u205fthese\u205fdemons, barely even\u205featin'\nBarely even sleepin',\u205fthis shit got me tweakin'\nFighting with my lawyers for a better offer\nJust wanna see my daughter, 'cause\n\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nNever thought I'd be caught up in the streets, yeah\nLocked up, they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\n\nHavin' dreams about livin' my life\nI've been havin' dreams about bein' outside\nI've been, little baby girl, please, don't cry, no\nPlease don't, no, no\nNo, no, no, no no (No)\nMama said, \"Hold my hand, no crying, no\"\nKnow these niggas wanna take my life, (I know)\nLittle baby boy, please, don't die, (I know)\nAnd I'm like, no, no\nNo, no, no, no (No)\nTell me why, tell me how I really love these niggas\nTell me why, tell me why would I trust these niggas\nHearin' voices in my head, sayin', \"Fuck these niggas\"\nMy niggas, my niggas, these ain't my niggas\nThey gon' say what they gon' say, nigga, yeah, I know\nThey can say what they want, they don't know what I know\nAin't nothin' you can tell me 'bout this life I chose\nI was facin' forty-seven to life\nYou might also like\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nNever thought I'd be caught up in the streets, yeah\nLocked up, they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\n\nI'm still tryna find that motive\nOf why I did what I did\nI didn't wanna feel that struggle\nJust wanted to hurry up and get rich\nAnd while that money piled up\nJealous niggas askin' questions, \"Why not us?\" Yeah\nAnd when you get caught up, nobody wants to seem to be a rider, yeah\nEverybody wanna talk the street code\nBut only follow when convenient for them\nThey quick to tell you that they ride for you, die for you\nBut quick to bite the hand that feeds them\n\nI know I can't keep lovin' you (Loving you)\nI know I can't keep trustin' you (Trustin' you)\nI put my life in front of you (I put my whole life)\nTell me what I'm supposed to do\nThis shit get complicated, ah (Complicated)\nMy blood, thought you was ride or die (Ride or die)\nI was just tryna change your life (Tryna change your life)\nBut you had something else in mind (Something else in mind)\nYeah\nSomething else in mind, yeah\nI'm locked up"}
{"text":"49 ContributorsYOKAI Lyrics\nScum Gang!\nCamGotHits\n\nFor my cold killers, for my soul lifters\nBody bag fillers, for my go-getters\nTrey-eight gripper, dope brick flipper\nBad bitch hitter, foreign drop whipper\nFor my cold killers, for my soul lifters\nBody bag fillers, for my go-getters\nTrey-eight gripper, dope brick flipper\nBad bitch hitter, foreign drop whipper\n\nManiac\u2014All black!\nClick clack\u2014Fall back!\nTake your bitch\u2014Dog that!\nFlip switch\u2014Roach trap!\nDead case\u2014Solve that!\nGun clap\u2014Hi-Hat!\nClick clack\u2014Absolve that!\nBoy\u2014Brrat!\u2014Boy\u2014Brrat!\n\nPistol to your melon, quit that yellin', I'ma count to 3\nLowin' on the block, with my Scums all surrounding me\nStill up in the trap, where the hustlers and the addicts be\nPopping shit'll get you split, turn this to a tragedy\nBeat you to a pulp, with a sock full of batteries (Mm)\nShottie to your dome, make your ass defy gravity (Mm)\nFucking bitches, Sak\u00e9 sipping, nigga had to quit the lean\nYoung Scummy money gang, Scum Gang, Medell\u00edn\nYou might also like\nRuger spit\nPop your back, I came up in the game, who's really doing it?\nPop your back, I came up in the game, who's really shooting it?\nMove the split, split the spliff, release the piss\nScreaming \"Honey, get the kids\"\nScreaming \"Homie, jump the fence\"\nPurge the yay', ball of eight, have 'em twisting, turning ways\nPurge the yay', ball of eight, flip it, double up the pay\nOkay, now, Chad did acid once and now he be hearing voices\nI had to link with 6ix9ine because the beefing was pointless\nWas closing curtains in the hearses\nWhile your boys was wearing purses\nServin' service, swervin' in suburbans\nRims scraping the surface\nPut him in a coffin\u2014Toss him!\nSmother him\u2014Cover him!\nDirt bed\u2014\"DEAD\" white shirt said\nMuzzle him\u2014Put 'em in a line, the hammer'll bang!\nSeal my body, break the chains, it's Scum to the Gang\n(Squad)\n\nFor my cold killers, for my soul lifters\nBody bag fillers, for my go-getters\nTrey-eight gripper, dope brick flipper\nBad bitch hitter, foreign drop whipper\nFor my cold killers, for my soul lifters\nBody bag fillers, for my go-getters\nTrey-eight gripper, dope brick flipper\nBad bitch hitter, foreign drop whipper"}
{"text":"81 ContributorsGUMMO (Remix) Lyrics\nNiggas iffy, uh, Blicky got the stiffy, uh\nGot the blicky, uh, drum, it holds fifty, uh\nScum Gang!\n\nPop these niggas like a wheelie, nigga, you a silly nigga\nIn the hood with them billy niggas and them Hoover niggas\nYou run up and they shootin' niggas, we ain't hoopin', nigga\nYo KB, you a loser, nigga, up that Uzi, nigga\nOn the stoop, crills in my drawers, your girl on my phone\nShe wanna fuck, but keep her clothes on, I only want the jaw\nMan that's really all I use her for as I kick her out the door\nI don't want her, you can keep the whore, she fiendin' for some more\nIn New York my niggas don't Milly Rock, my niggas money bop\nBlow a case, a nigga throwin' shots, I run 'em off they block\nQuarter milli in the stash box, I grinded for my spot\nNiggas talkin' 'bout that cash but my bag worth alot\nI don't fuck with no old hoes, only new hoes\nPut my dick in her backbone, I pass her to my bro\nI don't love her, that's a sad ho, she a bad ho\nI'ma fuck her, then I dash home, to the cash ho\n\nI'm on some rob a nigga shit, take a nigga bitch\nDo the dash in the whip, count the cash in the whip\nI pull up with a stick, I let that shit hit\nShout out ******* but I fucked that niggas bitch\nYou might also like\nOffset\nDiamonds hittin' (Hittin')\nWhen the boss talk, bitch, listen, huh (Hey, hey)\nWe get ya biscuit, huh (Biscuits)\nI sic out my dogs, they vicious, huh (Rrr, rrr)\nFuck these bitches, huh\nHad to run up the bag in the kitchen, huh (Bag, bag)\nMy nigga on stick shift (Stick shift)\nGet airlift, nigga, on some real shit, huh (Woo!)\nBlow up the Nawf (Nawf)\nIt's all in them drawers (It's all in them drawers)\nLet me see my opp (Opps)\nOoh, 30 on my Glock (Glocks)\nPlug 'em like a sock (Sockets)\nTrap out the pot (Trap out)\nCarbon grip the cartridge (Car, brr)\nTrap whip the marks (Hey)\nMy rock cost milli' (Milli')\nI take care of village (Village)\nMy bitch the realest (Realest)\nWraith cost half a milli' (Wraith)\nHermes, Balenci' (Hermes)\nMy bitch Blooded like Clifford (Blooded)\nLambo' speed shiftin' (Lambo')\nGet shot in your back like Ricky (Bow)\nGlock 40'll give you a hickey\nSmokin' on cook like a hippy (Cookie)\nShe smoke up the dope on a visit (Smoke up)\nWe hold it up first, then we blitzin' (Blitz)\nRIP to Pistol (Pistol)\nGet whacked off when I whistle\nYou got caught down bad, you a victim\nNiggas ain't showin' no sympathy\nBetter think twice before you start dissin' me\nNiggas iffy, uh, Blicky got the stiffy, uh\nGot the blicky, uh, drum it holds fifty, uh\nMove milli', all my niggas on fifty, uh\nTalk down, pew pew pew, you silly, uh\nHit a stain, fifty bands, all hunnids\nSpinning through ya block like a pop shove-it\nShoot at me I'm shooting back, I'm getting buckets\nI ain't wanna take his life but nigga, fuck it\n\nI'm on some rob a nigga shit, take a nigga bitch\nDo the dash in the whip, count the cash in the whip\nI pull up with a stick, I let that shit hit\nShout out ******* but I fucked that nigga bitch\nI'm on some rob a nigga shit, take a nigga bitch\nDo the dash in the whip, count the cash in the whip\nI pull up with a stick, I let that shit hit\nShout out ******* but I fucked that nigga bitch\n\nScum Gang!"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsCHOCOLAT\u00c9 Lyrics\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\n\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want none, no\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want none, no\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want none, no\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want none, no\nYou might also like\nFire on a nigga if he fuck with my soldier (My soldier)\nTry and play me like a pussy nigga, but it won't work (It won\u2019t work)\nIf you need a plate, then you could hit me on my turf (On my turf)\nI need twenty-five, try to stick me and that gun burst (Boom boom boom)\nI need all of mine, try to try me and it's Columbine\nLet that ruger fly, automatic poppin' at your guys\nYou gon' lose a guy, 'tato on the barrel, give him fries\nOn that type of time, for my woadie, that's my fuckin' slime\nOn that type of shit, for the bloody, you get crucifixed\nBetter come equipped, we got extendos, we got extra clips\nWe tote all types of shit, .357 blow your ass to bits\nWe ain't callin' quits 'til you end up in a coffin, bitch\n\nI lose my shit when I let that .45 go\nI'll blow that bitch, knock the beef out your taco\nYou know what time it is when we pull up that Tahoe\nI load that thirty clip and I'm bustin' out hollows\nThat's how it go\n\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want none, no\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want none, no\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want none, no\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want no smoke, they don't want none\nThey don't want none, no\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nPussy niggas don't want no smoke\nScum Gang!"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsScumLife Lyrics\nScum Gang!\nAnd here we go\n\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nR-R-R-Represent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up, throw it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your squad, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your squad, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up, throw it up\n\nRepresent your gang, nigga, ScumLife\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, ScumLife (ScumLife)\nSnatch a nigga chain, nigga, ScumLife\nI don't give a fuck, give it up, nigga, ScumLife (Give it up)\nBail 20K, nigga, ScumLife\nFuck it, you coming home tonight, nigga\u2014ScumLife\nFuck a nigga bitch, nigga, ScumLife\nI don't give a fuck, I'm a pimp, nigga, ScumLife\nYo, I'm not feeling this shit, nigga\nTekashi69 from that Scum fuckin' squad\nFuck the law, ice all in my veins, 69 on my arm, I'm a God\nFlag around a lot, bust you in your jaw, fuck 'em all\nShoot you through your cross, put that on my mom\nFreeze my ass off in the bookings, I was waiting on that judge\nCell to cell, 'cause them undercovers knocked me for a sale\nSellin' dope, I'm from Bushwick, nigga, hustling's all I know\nSellin' dope, I'm a Scum Gang nigga, hustling's all I know, all I know\nYou might also like\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up, throw it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up (Scum Gang)\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your squad, nigga, throw it up (Scum Gang)\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your squad, nigga, throw it up (Scum Gang)\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up\nRepresent your gang, nigga, throw it up\nI don't give a fuck where you at, nigga, throw it up, throw it up\n\nWe throw it up\nWe throw it up, throw it up\nWe throw it up\nWe throw it up, throw it up\nI don't give a\u2014"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsZeta Zero 0.5 Lyrics\nFuck nigga, better run!\nYeah, you know we gon' up that\nYeah, you know we gon' bust that fucking pole!\nYeah, you know we gon' dump that\nYeah, you know we gon' dump that\nNiggas running, I ain't even go (Whoa, hold up, what?)\nNiggas running, I ain't even go (Haha!)\nI ain't know he was a trackstar, AR, chainsaw\nFuck nigga, better run!\nYeah, you know we gon' up that (This nigga!)\nYeah, you know we gon' bust that fucking pole!\nYeah, you know we gon' dump that\nYeah, you know we gon' dump that\nNiggas running, I ain't even go (Whoa, hold up, what?)\nNiggas running, I ain't even go\nI ain't know he was a trackstar, AR, chainsaw\n\nLil' bitch, boy, you know you ain't with that (Lil' bitch)\nBoy, you know you ain't 'bout that (A-whoa)\nI ain't with the chit-chat (Nah)\nSend my shooters where your house at (You what?)\nBoy, you a lil' pack-rat, wait, ooh (A-whoa, a-Dexter!)\n6ix9ine with me so it's homicide (He what?)\nAll my shooters, yeah, they down to ride\nYour diamonds fake, I ain't lying\nFucking lil' bitch, put my dick in her spine\nShe whine, I feed her coke, doing line (What?)\nRun to the money, you know it's mine (Dexter)\nWait, fuck nigga better run (A-what?)\nBeam on that chop, fifty right on the drum, huh\nShoot that lil' boy for fun, huh (I do)\nDiamonds, they shine like the sun, huh\nThat lil' boy not my son, huh\nRun, huh, a-run, Dexter\nYou might also like\nFuck nigga, better run!\nYeah, you know we gon' up that\nYeah, you know we gon' bust that fucking pole!\nYeah, you know we gon' dump that\nYeah, you know we gon' dump that\nNiggas running, I ain't even go (Whoa, hold up, what?)\nNiggas running, I ain't even go (Haha!)\nI ain't know he was a trackstar, AR, chainsaw\nFuck nigga, better run!\nYeah, you know we gon' up that (This nigga!)\nYeah, you know we gon' bust that fucking pole!\nYeah, you know we gon' dump that\nYeah, you know we gon' dump that\nNiggas running, I ain't even go (Whoa, hold up, what?)\nNiggas running, I ain't even go\nI ain't know he was a trackstar, AR, chainsaw\n\n6ix9ine, what's up, brozay?\n\nSame day, different shit, yeah\nSame bed, different bitch, yeah\nRiding 'round with them sticks, yeah\nMAC's, TEC's, and a clip, yeah\nHeard he move like a bitch, yeah\nRan off with his shit, yeah\nNina with me, I'm a pimp, yeah\nFinger fuck, she gon' spit\nFBI knocking on my door, they want the rocket\n(They looking for that what?) They looking for the rocket, uh!\nHarlem niggas snitching, toting guns, ain't never pop it\nSchlosser came down with the motherfucking rocket!\n(Schlosser!)\nV\u0161ade kam pr\u00eddem (Ooh) na m\u0148a \u0161tekaj\u00fa haf haf (Haf)\nLebo na ve\u010dierky chod\u00edm v tepl\u00e1koch a v mikine RAF RAF\nKa\u017ed\u00e1 rad radom je do Haha, baf baf\nDex Dex, Tekashi, Haha Crew pozri sa mama, yeah\nP\u00e1lim blunt za bluntom, pok\u00fdm nep\u00e1lia ma pery, hey\nChod\u00edm vyhadzova\u0165 smeti v mojich papu\u010diach Fendi, hey\nVch\u00e1dzam do klubu, do tmy v okuliaroch, ako slep\u00fd, hey\nKa\u017ed\u00fd sa ma p\u00fdta, \u010di vid\u00edm, vrav\u00edm hej, lebo svietime (Lebo svietime, yeah)"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsOn The Regular Lyrics\nAM Nation!\n\nI'll be on the block on the regular\nWith my niggas bustin' at the cops, on the regular\nBitches suckin' dick, givin' top, on the regular\nCatch me water whippin' straight drop, on the regular\nYeah you know I run up with the shit on the regular\nBare-faced, I'ma hit a lick, on the regular\nPosted with the drop, gun cocked, on the regular\nYeah I'm 6ix9ine with the nine, on the regular\nNiggas want war, yeah, kick the door, yeah\nRun up, break your jaw, yeah, get it on, yeah\nI'ma hit a stain, yeah, broad day, yeah\nNiggas act fake, yeah, catch a fade, yeah\nNiggas said I changed, yeah, made some changes, yeah\nI could never change, yeah, stay the same, yeah\nI'm still in the hood, yeah, busting juggs, yeah\nPuffing on a Wood, yeah, smoking good, yeah\nShorty want a pic, yeah, that ain't shit, yeah\nTold her do a trick, yeah, on the dick, yeah\nBust her whole shit, yeah, in her ribs, yeah\nLeave her with my kids, yeah, on her lips, yeah\nSkrrt off in the Benz, yeah, doing tricks, yeah\nTwo hundred on the dash, yeah, tell the cashier\nThey want me, I don't lack, yeah, got my gat, yeah\nTalk hot on getting whacked, yeah, body bag, yeah\nYou might also like\nI'll be on the block on the regular\nWith my niggas bustin' at the cops, on the regular\nBitches suckin' dick, givin' top, on the regular\nCatch me water whippin' straight drop, on the regular\nYeah you know I run up with the shit on the regular\nBare-faced, I'ma hit a lick, on the regular\nPosted with the drop, gun cocked, on the regular\nYeah I'm 6ix9ine with the nine, on the regular"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsBUBA Lyrics\nScum Gang!\nMJ\nPharaoh.. Vi-Vice\n\nSlumped up, slumped up, try not to get fucked up\nSlumped up, slumped up, try not to get fucked up\nSlumped up, back up, 'fore you get your head bust\nSlumped up, back up, 'fore you get your head bust\n\nGot this FN on my body, if you feelin' froggy\nGot my gang right beside me, ready to catch a hommy\nIf you run up, bitch, I'm sorry, don't be movin' wocky\nGot this bitch all on my body, bitch, get off my body\nGet the fuck up out my whip, 'less you tryna suck my dick\n'Less you tryna fuck my clique, 'less you tryna stack this brick\n'Less you got shit I can sniff, 'less you got shit I can taste\nI might come up on my waist, get the fuck up out my face\nWhen that 'K clap, it's a dirt nap\nAnd if you catch me without that, get hit in the cap\nWith a mothafuckin' baseball bat, dooby wrapped\nFour, five, six, that's a head crack\nThat's a fact, that's a fact\nYou might also like\nSlumped up, slumped up, try not to get fucked up\nSlumped up, slumped up, try not to get fucked up\nSlumped up, back up, 'fore you get your head bust\nSlumped up, back up, 'fore you get your head bust"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsWONDO Lyrics\nScott Storch\n\nShorty, don't clap-back on the dick (On the dick, hey)\nDon\u2019t clap-back on the dick (On the dick)\nBitch, when I hit that, do a split (Hey)\nWhen I hit that, do a trick\nShorty, don't clap-back on the dick (On the dick, hey)\nDon't clap-back on the dick (On the dick)\nBitch, when I hit that, do a split (Hey)\nWhen I hit that, do a trick\n\nKnow I keep a tool on me\nI come in the room, I might have to move on \u2019em\nScope with a zoom, fuck around and boom, homie\nI stay with a broom on me, better move, homie\n'Fore you in a tomb, on me\nWe gon' bring the MACs out, we back out and spazz out\nYeah that's a blackout, get dragged out and packed out\nYeah, my trap house, I call it the black house\nWe move the packs out, we gon' blow the mags out\n\nAll in, anybody that'll do it (Hey!)\nEverybody in the party getting stupid (Hey!)\nAll these thotties in the party, I ain't choosing (Hey!)\nI'm off the Henny and the chuck, I might lose it (Hey!)\nYou might also like\nShorty, don\u2019t clap-back on the dick (On the dick, hey)\nDon\u2019t clap-back on the dick (On the dick)\nBitch, when I hit that, do a split (Hey)\nWhen I hit that, do a trick\nShorty, don't clap-back on the dick (On the dick, hey)\nDon\u2019t clap-back on the dick (On the dick)\nBitch, when I hit that, do a split (Hey)\nWhen I hit that, do a trick\n\nDVDs, porno tapes\nDVDs, porno tapes\nDVDs, porno tapes\nDo you beat your meat to a porno tape? Ayy\nDVDs, DVDs, ayy, uh\nDVDs, DVDs, ayy, uh, ay, wait, uh\nDVDs, ayy\nDVDs, DVDs, ayy"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsDOOWEE Lyrics\nPhosphate\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, get that nigga\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, clip that nigga (Woo!)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, drop that nigga\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, pop that nigga (Woo!)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, drop that nigga (Woo!)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, pop that nigga\n\nScum Gang!\n\nGun to his head like Kenzo, uh\nCan't get too comfy ya kinfolk, uh\nI don't got the mop, I got the supersoaker, uh\nMake a nigga run, Usain Bolt, uh (Bah)\nTrey eight up on my hip though, uh\nClip lookin' like Mandingo, uh\nWet his ass up, no homo, uh\nMade a nigga wish he had a raincoat, uh\nIf you up to something, we gon' get to bustin'\nMy niggas for nothing, shoot you and your cousin\nWe could get to thumpin', not for the discussion\nOn the block drummin', shoot you in your stomach\nScum Gang bloody, Scum Gang cousins\nThrow it up nigga, show 'em how we comin'\nAll my niggas rugged, all my niggas thuggin'\nTotin' pistol, buggin', this is how we comin'\nDon't-Don't be on my block jackin' no fu shit\nYou gon' get buck fifty and your face gon' be split\nI don't fuck with bitch niggas, way my round, nigga, dip\nI don't fuck with broke bitches, way my round, bitch, dip\nYou might also like\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, get that nigga\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, clip that nigga (Woo!)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, drop that nigga\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, pop that nigga (Woo!)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, drop that nigga (Woo!)\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah yeah yeah, yeah, yeah\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, pop that nigga"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439GATA Lyrics\nBeat Menace\n\nThey be telling me to keep the bitch, but I'ma leave the bitch\nRay Charles,\u2005John\u2005Cena shit, I\u2005can't see the bitch\nShorty said she\u2005ain't hungry, but she always eatin' shit\nI be coolin', tryna chill, but she always eatin' shit\n\nKick her out, I don't need a ho, I'ma leave the ho\nI won't save her, I won't breed a ho, I don't need a ho\nI just fuck her and mislead the ho, I mistreat the ho\nShe been all up on my Gram, but I don't see her though\n\nOh my God (Oh, man)\nShe can't pay her rent, on the 'Gram she a fraud (On God)\nDamn, bought new titties, no car (Skrrt)\nHow the fuck you gon' get to your job?\nI know this lil' eater, Bronqueita (Woo)\nI tried to buy her Gucci but she really love Adidas\nShe said her pussy pink, but she from Brownsville\nI was rollin' off the pill, so I still fuckin' kill\nOh damn, let me guess, you need an Uber?\nAre you dumb? Are you really fuckin' stupid?\nThe J-Train is right over there\n$2.50, bitch, pay the fuckin' fare\nYou might also like\nI'm conceited, ho, I just see them throats, yeah\nI don't feel them hoes, I just leave them ghost, yeah\nThe whole team can smoke, I don't need to know, yeah\nTold her keep it low, but she wanna boast, yeah\n\nThey be telling me to keep the bitch, but I'ma leave the bitch\nRay Charles, John Cena shit, I can't see the bitch\nShorty said she ain't hungry, but she always eatin' shit\nI be coolin', tryna chill, but she always eatin' shit\n\nKick her out, I don't need a ho, I'ma leave the ho\nI won't save her, I won't breed a ho, I don't need a ho\nI just fuck her and mislead the ho, I mistreat the ho\nShe been all up on my Gram, but I don't see her though"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsMOOKY Lyrics\nStomp that nigga out, stomp that nigga out (Stomp!)\nStomp that nigga out, stomp that nigga out (Stomp!)\nPistol to his mouth, pistol to his mouth (Stomp!)\nPistol to his mouth, we gon' stomp that nigga out (What?)\nStomp that nigga out, stomp that nigga out\nStomp that nigga out, stomp that nigga out\nPistol to his mouth, pistol to his mouth\nPistol to his mouth, we gon' stomp that nigga out\n\nPull up to the party off a molly (Off a what?)\nPull up to the party in a 'Rari (Skrrt, skrrt!)\nHeard it's niggas in there actin' rowdy (Actin' rowdy!)\nSo I'm 'bout to go do somethin' 'bout it (Somethin' about it)\nI'ma pull up with the .30 stick, with the coolin' kit\nStephen Curry, how I'm shootin' shit, I can't fuckin' miss\nI'm off a perc', movin' ridiculous, I think I'm seein' shit\nOff half a piece, swervin' the fuckin' Benz\nCountin' up Benjamins (What, what?)\n\nDon't start no shit, won't be no shit (What?)\nDon't start no shit, won't be no shit (What?)\nDon't start no shit, won't be no shit (What?)\nDon't start no shit, won't be no shit (What?)\nYou might also like\nStomp that nigga out (Out), stomp that nigga out (Stomp!)\nStomp that nigga out, stomp that nigga out (Stomp!)\nPistol to his mouth, pistol to his mouth (Stomp!)\nPistol to his mouth, we gon' stomp that nigga out (Stomp!)\nStomp that nigga out, stomp that nigga out (Out)\nStomp that nigga out, stomp that nigga out\nPistol to his mouth, pistol to his mouth\nPistol to his mouth, we gon' stomp that nigga out\n\nDon't start no shit, won't be no shit (What?)\nDon't start no shit, won't be no shit (What?)\nDon't start no shit, won't be no shit (What?)\nDon't start no shit, won't be no shit (What?)\n\nWhat? (Yeah, yeah)\nWhat? (Yeah, yeah)\nWhat? (Yeah, yeah)\nWhat?"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439AVA Lyrics\n(Oh my God, Ronny)\n\nGot my mind on my money, can't lose, I only win\nTell a\u2005nigga,\u2005like FEFE, I\u2005don't really want new friends\nAnd if\u2005I don't move right, I could lose my life, I swear\nSo I gotta move with it, gotta keep it on me, it's right here\nGotta keep it on my body, you know I can't ride with no chop\nGotta watch who I link with, I can't give everybody the drop\nAnd if a nigga run up on me you know somebody gon' drop\nAin't no love in the street, gotta keep it with me, niggas know how I rock\n\nDon't trust nobody, no, no\nShow no love to nobody, no, no\nNigga wanna take what's mine, no, no\nNiggas want my life, I can't go\nKnow I gotta stay with a black four-four\nWrist on glist and my neck on froze\nNiggas wanna get that, no, no, no\nThat shit click-clack, it's gon' blow\nCadillac BP, moving like a VP\nI ain't in DC, life ain't easy\nFor a nigga like me, gotta stay icy\nNiggas super spicy 'cause they don't like me\nBut I know nigga like me gotta keep God close\nNiggas still slide in the Diablo\nNo stress, I'ma sleep with my eyes closed\nYeah, I know\nYou might also like\nGot my mind on my money, can't lose, I only win\nTell a nigga, like FEFE, I don't really want no friends\nAnd if I don't move right, I could lose my life, I swear\nSo I gotta move with it, gotta keep it on me, it's right here\nGotta keep it on my body, you know I can't ride with no chop\nGotta watch who I link with, I can't give everybody the drop\nAnd if a nigga run up on me you know somebody gon' drop\nAin't no love in the street, gotta keep it with me, niggas know how I rock"}
{"text":"6 ContributorsTIC TOC (Remix) Lyrics\nYung Lan on the track\n\nOkay, tick tock, Audemars wrist watch\nI keep a stick, I keep a big Glock\nYou get hit, I do not miss shots\nI keep a stick, I tell her, \"Kick rocks\"\nOkay, get rocks, wrist go drip, drop\nI do not kiss, you making shit hot\nYou think I'm dumb, I ain't no kid\nThought you was in love\nYou ain't my bitch, nah\n\nAyy-ayy, AYLEK$!\nYour vision division, can't fit in my time frame\nConnecting the dots and comparing our dreams\nWe just say the same thing\nNow I'm chasing a bag, and I'm blowing the stacks\nGet it back on the same day\nYour bitch hit on my jack, rubber blow in the back\nCan you fuck her the same day?\nTell me, how many bands is you really finna spend right now?\nIf you really wanna dance, you gon' use no hands\nAnd just shake that upside down\nGot a little big booty, bitch, her kitty cat go meow\nGot a little AYLEK$ switch, they really wanna put me down\nYou might also like\nOkay, tick tock, Audemars wrist watch\nI keep a stick, I keep a big Glock\nYou get hit, I do not miss shots\nI keep a stick, I tell her, \"Kick rocks\"\nOkay, get rocks, wrist go drip, drop\nI do not kiss, you making shit hot\nYou think I'm dumb, I ain't no kid\nThought you was in love\nYou ain't my bitch, nahEmbed"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easWAIT Lyrics\nWait, wait, wait\nI got them jealous again, they in they feelings again\nWait, wait, wait\nCry baby, they crying again 'cause they can't do what I can\nWait, wait, wait\nAnd I'm still fresh out the can, shout out my lawyer, Lance\nWait, wait, wait\nBust down Cartier, I know you see I'm the man\nWait, wait, wait\nI just did it again, watch me hit my dance\nAyy, ayy, ayy\nI just got in that Benz, ran up a couple of M's\nAyy, ayy, ayy\nPoppin', I'm poppin' some bands, watch me hit my dance\nAyy, ayy, ayy\nI'ma still pop my shit, got a few likes on the 'Gram\nAyy, ayy, ayy\n\nI'm in the stars again, wait, wait\nI'm up on Mars again, wait, wait\nShe wan' fuck a star again, wait, wait\nI won't take a loss again, wait, wait\nI'm in the Benz again, with her and her friends and 'em\nIf she a lil' baddie, I wanna date\nShe want the addy, ain't no way\nI be on the block with the same old niggas\nY'all be on th\u0435 block with the same old bitches\nNo n\u0435w hoes, y'all can't do better\nI be on the block, but my check got bigger\nI be on the block, but my chain got bigger\nShoutout KK1K, my nigga\nHe let it spark, gra-ta-ta-ta\nHe gon' make him dance, bachata-ta\nI got the AP, two-tone, she want a baby, no, no\nI start the engine, Lambo, I do the dashing, skrrt off\nI got a dancer, redbone, beat on my chest like King Kong\nShe licky, licky, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh\nYou might also like\nWait, wait, wait\nI got them jealous again, they in they feelings again\nWait, wait, wait\nCry baby, they crying again 'cause they can't do what I can\nWait, wait, wait\nAnd I'm still fresh out the can, shout out my lawyer, Lance\nWait, wait, wait\nBust down Cartier, I know you see I'm the man\nWait, wait, wait\nI just did it again, watch me hit my dance\nAyy, ayy, ayy\nI just got in that Benz, ran up a couple of M's\nAyy, ayy, ayy\nPoppin', I'm poppin' some bands, watch me hit my dance\nAyy, ayy, ayy\nI'ma still pop my shit, got a few likes on the 'Gram\nAyy, ayy, ayyEmbed"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsTranslationsT\u00fcrk\u00e7e\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easGTL Lyrics\nHello\nThis is a prepaid debit call from Danny.\nTo accept this call, press 0\nHavin' dreams about livin' my life\nI've been havin' dreams about bein' outside\nI've been, hello, baby girl, please don't cry, no\nPlease don't, no, no no, no, no, no (No)\nMama said, \"Hold my hand, no crying, no\"\nKnow these niggas wanna take my life, I know\nTell lil' baby boy, please don't die, no\nAnd I might, no, no no, no, no, no\nTell me why, tell me why should I trust these niggas?\nTell me why, tell me how I really loved these niggas?\nHearin' voices in my head sayin', \"Fuck these niggas\"\nMy niggas, my niggas? These ain't my niggas\nThey gon' say what they gon' say, nigga, yeah, I know\nThey can say what they want, they don't know what I know\nAin't nothin' you could tell me 'bout this life I chose\nI was facin' 47, you was sitting at home\n\nI know I can't keep loving you\nI know I can't keep trusting you\nI put my life in front of you\nTell me what I'm supposed to do?\nThis shit get complicated, ah\nMy blood, thought you was ride or die\nI was just tryna change your life\nBut you I had something else in mind\nYou might also like\nStreets fucked up, no trust\nFor that bag, niggas switch up, try to kill ya\nThat shit give a nigga goosebumps, paranoia\nKeep my head above water, for my daughter\nGotta stay ten-toes, nigga, I'ma soldier\nGot my back against the wall, I'll never fold up\nWait, wait, wait, wait, nigga, hold up\nStill the King of New York, I know, I told ya\nYou have one minute remaining\nTold ya\n\nI know I can't keep loving you\nI know I can't keep trusting you\nI put my life in front of you\nTell me what I'm supposed to do?\nThis shit get complicated, ah\nMy blood, thought you was ride or die\nI was just tryna change your life\nBut you I had something else in mind\n\nThank you for using GTL"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsSINAL\u00d8A Lyrics\nScum Gang!\nProject GHXST\nYo, 6ix9ine, talk your shit, Blood\nNiggas don't want no parts, it's rundown season, hold it down\nIt's only the squad\n\nThey say when they see me they gon' wet me\nStill ain't wet shit (They ain't wet shit!)\nThey say when they see me they gon' test me\nStill ain't said shit (They ain't said shit!)\nThey said when they see me they gon' rob me\nStill ain't took shit (They ain't rob shit!)\nThey said when they see me I'ma run\nI don't duck, bitch\n\nAll that talking, boy, stop (Boy, stop)\nHeard you dancing, boy, stop (Boy, stop)\nNeed a lesson, boy, stop (Boy, stop)\nIntermission, boy, stop (Boy, stop)\nQuit that popping, boy, stop (Boy, stop)\nI know what's cracking, boy, stop (Boy, stop)\nWhat you jacking? Boy, stop (Boy, stop)\nWhat you saying? Boy, stop (Uh!)\nAll that talking that you doing gon' get your boy shot (Grrah, grrah!)\nAll them hollows to his chest gon' make his heart stop (Blaow!)\nPut that .30 in your face, like, \"What's in your spot?\" (Grr, grr!)\nRun that bitch, run that cash, fuck with us you cannot\n(Fucker, fucker!)\nYou might also like\nThey say when they see me they gon' wet me\nStill ain't wet shit (They ain't wet shit!)\nThey say when they see me they gon' test me\nStill ain't said shit (They ain't said shit!)\nThey said when they see me they gon' rob me\nStill ain't took shit (They ain't rob shit!)\nThey said when they see me I'ma run\nI don't duck, bitch (We don't duck!)\n\nYou don't know what it is, being on T.S.O (You don't know!)\nYou don't know what it is, facing fifty 'front the judge (You don't know!)\nYou don't know what it is when your bid 100k\nWhat it is, stickin' up commands on the fuckin' tip (Stick it up!)\nThis jail shit'll show you, who's a fraud, who a fake (For real)\nWho just talkin' just to talk, who just hatin' just to hate (For real)\nDo my thang, I'm a real individual (A real one)\nFuck a fraud nigga who's goal is try to swindle you (Fuck 'em, fuck 'em, fuck 'em, fuck 'em)\nGoons all around me, killers all around me (Squad, squad)\nSnitches get from 'round me, get that 40 on me (Clip, blaow)\nGoons all around me, killers all around me (Squad, squad)\nSnitches get from 'round me, get that 40 on me (Clip, blaow)\nYeah, we rolling T-T-T (Got the gat)\nAnd I keep it E-B-E (Got the gat)\nShout Y-G-C, on my block banging N-D-G (Squad)\nYeah, we jackin' E-B-K (Got the gat)\nNo man is G-B-G (Got the gat)\nY-S and D-O-D\nGang signs all L-O-D (Got the gat)\nThey say when they see me they gon' wet me\nStill ain't wet shit (They ain't wet shit!)\nThey say when they see me they gon' test me\nStill ain't said shit (They ain't said shit!)\nThey said when they see me they gon' rob me\nStill ain't took shit (They ain't rob shit!)\nThey said when they see me I'ma run\nI don't duck, bitch (We don't duck, nigga!)"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439EnglishNINI Lyrics\nAh, Leftside again\nLimitless, yes\nIt's Kybba\nGyal dem come again, gyal, yay\n\nTek yuh time, tek yuh time, tek yuh time now (Yeah)\nGyal, mi waan know, mek yuh haffi wine suh (Yeah)\nLookin' like an angel, ah mussi God find yuh\nMi really waan get beside yuh, beside yuh\nSexy lady, dame, dame\nCome here, mami, dame, dame (Watch out now)\nShake it for me, dame, dame (Yeah)\nMove ya body, dame, dame\n\nHey, mami (Mami)\nLove how you ah win\u0435 and ah back it up for me (For me)\nMi ah nuh coward suh mi nah run from it (Nuh)\nMi ah beg yuh pl\u0435ase, beg yuh please don't stop it\nMi ready fi pick it up whenever yuh drop it (Drop it)\nMi neva see a girl like you, God damnit\nLook like seh you come from another planet\nYeah, fi get a girl like you, mi neva plan it (Nuh)\nFi get dem other girls in the picture, mi a crop it\nYou might also like\nBeat it like a drum, brat-pum-pum-pum-pum\nDo it with no hands, no ton-ton-tongue-tongue\nHit it raw dog, no condom-dom-dom\nMake her pop a Plan B, I ain't dumb-dumb-dumb-dumb\nRocket in me pocket like Kim Jong Un\nLeave him in a coma like Kim Jong Un\nBody operation like Kardashian\nDownload mi new game, now 6ix9ine run\nI was in the trenches with the fiends and the killas\nI was in the slum movin' cool with my ninas\nShout out to my migo, that's the plug with the kilos\nNow my diamonds drippin' like they water Aquafina, oh\nI like her body, like the way she move\nShe on my body, like the way I move\nFat punani, yeah, she got that woo\nTell me what's the vibe, baby, what you wanna do?\n\nHey, mami (Mami)\nLove how you ah wine and ah back it up for me (For me)\nMi ah nuh coward suh mi nah run from it (Nuh)\nMi ah beg yuh please, beg yuh please don't stop it\nMi ready fi pick it up whenever yuh drop it (Drop it)\nMi neva see a girl like you, God damnit\nLook like seh you come from another planet\nYeah, fi get a girl like you, mi neva plan it (Nuh)\nFi get dem other girls in the picture, mi a crop it\nHey, mami (Mami)\nLove how you ah wine and ah back it up for me (For me)\nMi ah nuh coward suh mi nah run from it (Nuh)\nMi ah beg yuh please, beg yuh please don't stop it\nMi ready fi pick it up whenever yuh drop it (Drop it)\nMi neva see a girl like you, God damnit\nLook like seh you come from another planet\nYeah, fi get a girl like you, mi neva plan it (Nuh)\nFi get dem other girls in the picture, mi a crop itEmbed"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsShinigami (\u6b7b\u795e) Lyrics\nScum Gang!\nWoah, woah, woah, woah, woah\nMe and my niggas scummy, scummy\nMe and my niggas grimy, grimy\nMe and my niggas\nJordan, Jordan, Jordan\n\nYeah, my niggas scummy, scummy\nYeah, my nigga Bamz\nYeah, my niggas scummy, scummy\nYeah, my nigga Bamz\nYeah, my niggas scummy, scummy\nYeah, my nigga Bamz\nYeah, my niggas scummy, scummy\nYeah, my nigga Bamz\n\nRespect the shooter\n'Cause anytime I got it, I'ma shoot\nRespect the shooter\n'Cause every killer 'round me, I salute 'em\nRespect the shooter\n'Cause anytime I got it, I'ma shoot\nRespect the shooter\n'Cause every killer 'round me, I salute 'em (Woop!)\nYou might also like\nFuck around with them fuck arounds\nYou gon' fuck around and get smoked (Rrah!)\nMess around with them mess arounds\nYou gon' mess around and be broke\nGet your hustle on with them hustle-lords\nAnd I promise you'll get dough (Get dough)\nYou talk a lot, you a chatterbox\nBut real niggas lay low (Squad!)\nLook into my eyes, I'm a Scum, lil' boy\nGot the black .44 with the drum, lil' boy\nBetter run, lil' boy, when we come, lil' boy\nWhen we playin' with them toys, ain't no fun, lil' boy\nCame from the slums, where you from, lil' boy?\nHit him in the spine, leave him numb, lil' boy\nI ain't the one, lil' boy, I ain't the one, lil' boy\nGot them hollow tips hotter than the sun, lil' boy\n\nYeah, my niggas scummy, scummy\nYeah, my nigga Bamz\nYeah, my niggas scummy, scummy\nYeah, my nigga Bamz\nYeah, my niggas scummy, scummy\nYeah, my nigga Bamz\nYeah, my niggas scummy, scummy\nYeah, my nigga Bamz\nRespect the shooter\n'Cause anytime I got it, I'ma shoot\nRespect the shooter\n'Cause every killer 'round me, I salute\nRespect the shooter\n'Cause anytime I got it, I'ma shoot\nRespect the shooter\n'Cause every killer 'round me, I salute (Woop!)\n\nTell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me\nWho want drama with me?\nAll I got is sangre with me\nBitches saying scratch they kitty\nCat bought a whole pack\nIt was either doing that or I'm going back\nTo the bottom with the roaches rats (Ah, ah)\nRoaches rats (Ah, ah)\nI swear that gave me nightmares\nKept me up all night with it\nBitch wanna suck my dick\nHer pussy better come all tight with it\nMy body count infinite (Woop!)\nMy story true, no gimmick (Woop!)\nAsk about, they ask about\nYou ask about who did it, Tan\nI got that Tan with that TEC (Ah)\nPlease don't disrespect\nI got that Tan with that TEC (Ah)\nPlease don't disrespect\nI got that Tan with that TEC (Ah)\nPlease don't disrespect\nI got that Tan with that TEC (Ah)\nPlease don't disrespect"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsTranslationsSvenska\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easLEAH Lyrics\nAkon\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, oh\nOoh-oh\n\nBaby, you're all that I want (I want)\nWhen I pour Patr\u00f3n in your cup (Your cup)\nThe vibe is feeling so wrong (So wrong)\nI just wanna take you home (Yeah)\nBaby, you're all that I want (I want)\nWhen I pour Patr\u00f3n in my cup (My cup)\nThe vibe is feeling so wrong (So wrong)\nI just wanna take you home (Ooh-oh)\n\nBaby, you look better with your clothes off (Uh)\nBaby, you look better with your clothes off (Ooh-oh)\nNiggas keep telling you to pull up (Uh)\nVibrate on and turn your phone off (Ooh-oh)\nVibrate on and turn your phone off (Eh)\nLeah, you look better with your clothes off (Eh)\nYou look better with your clothes off (Eh, ooh-oh)\n\nShe wanna take ecstasy pills\nShe wanna take ecstasy pills\nShe wanna have sex with me, for real\nShe wanna have sex with me, for real\nI know you gotta work tonight, uh\nI promise, baby, I'll be worth your time\nFingers crossed that I am your type\nWhat am I saying, bitch, my bread is right\nI can treat you right, I can change your life\nI can put you in the Wraith with the stars inside\nLet's take a shot tonight, I could change your life\nBaby, you the type of girl that my momma like, oh yeah\nYou might also like\nBaby, you're all that I want (I want)\nWhen I pour Patr\u00f3n in your cup (Your cup)\nThe vibe is feeling so wrong (So wrong)\nI just wanna take you home (Yeah)\nBaby, you're all that I want (I want)\nWhen I pour Patr\u00f3n in my cup (My cup)\nThe vibe is feeling so wrong (So wrong)\nI just wanna take you home (Ooh-oh)\n\nOoh-oh, ooh-oh\nOoh-oh, ooh-oh\nShe wanna make a movie-ie\nWanna end up on the TV screen\nMixin' Henny with the ecstasy\nDon't wanna end up on TMZ\n\nBaby, you're all that I want (I want)\nWhen I pour Patr\u00f3n in your cup (Your cup)\nThe vibe is feeling so wrong (So wrong)\nI just wanna take you home (Yeah)\nBaby, you're all that I want (I want)\nWhen I pour Patr\u00f3n in my cup (My cup)\nThe vibe is feeling so wrong (So wrong)\nI just wanna take you home (Ooh-oh)\nBaby, you look better with your clothes off (Uh)\nBaby, you look better with your clothes off (Ooh-oh)\nNiggas keep telling you to pull up (Uh)\nVibrate on and turn your phone off (Ooh-oh)\nVibrate on and turn your phone off (Eh)\nLeah, you look better with your clothes off (Eh)\nYou look better with your clothes off (Eh, ooh-oh)"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsFuck Is You Lyrics\nScum Gang!\nSuperstaar Beats\n\nBitch, it's Wallah fuckin' Dan, who the fuck is you? (You)\nYou ain't my mothafuckin' mans, who the fuck is you? (You)\nBrought the cannon to the jam, who the fuck is you? (You)\nWho the fuck is you? (Nigga, who the fuck is you?)\nDon't give a fuck what you sayin', who the fuck is you? (You)\nWe don't know, you better scram, who the fuck is you? (You)\nScum Gang my only fam, who the fuck is you? (You)\nWho the fuck is you? Nigga, who the fuck is you? (You)\n\nTekashi69 from that Scum Squad\nY'all niggas don't want no drama (Don't want no drama)\nFirst nigga act tough gettin' WorldStar'd (WorldStar!)\nAnd I put that on my mama (On my mama!)\n\nCan't be where I'm at, I don't know you (Bang)\nBet my little niggas run up on you (Baow!)\nThey'll leave a nigga flat, no warning (Woop!)\nScum Gang, bitch, we on it, trust me 'cause you don't want it\nYou can try 6ix9ine if you wanna die\nA-A-All my niggas down for that homicide\nYou'll be on a shirt, you'll be in the church\nDressed up in a box with your mama cryin' (Ah!)\nShe kissing your corpse\nI don't know who you is and you pissing me off\nI aim at your heart, bullets rip through your cross\nRip you apart, stitches can't fix it, it's straight to the morgue\nBetter hope you don't slip and get lost in these parts\nWalk through the park after dark, catch a spark\nTen o'clock news, you'll be out on the charts\nScum to the Gang, praise to Allah\nYou might also like\nBitch, it's Wallah fuckin' Dan, who the fuck is you? (You)\nYou ain't my mothafuckin' mans, who the fuck is you? (You)\nBrought the cannon to the jam, who the fuck is you? (You)\nWho the fuck is you? (Nigga, who the fuck is you?)\nDon't give a fuck what you sayin', who the fuck is you? (You)\nWe don't know, you better scram, who the fuck is you? (You)\nScum Gang my only fam, who the fuck is you? (You)\nWho the fuck is you? Nigga, who the fuck is you? (You)\n\nFuck outta here\nWho the fuck is you?\nIt ain't gon' be nothing nice\nWho the fuck is you?\nYour heart don't beat like that, tell you that\nWho the fuck is you?\nI don't care\nNigga, who the fuck is you?\nI don't care, I don't go no feelings"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Portugu\u00easCHARLIE Lyrics\nRay Charles, I ain't never seen a bitch I need\nFuck that, I don't need no\u2005skis\nIt's\u2005so many rich\u2005niggas fuckin' bitches for free\nIf a\u2005nigga want pussy, make him pay that fee\nI don't want it at all pussy, bitch, gimme some money\nI don't need no lovin'\nCome on, throw that pussy on the block\nMake a nigga a hunnid\nMake that pussy pop like it's a shove it, gansta\n\nFendi kicks all yellow, fit so rude\nNever wife a thot 'cept you (Nope)\nBad decisions every single time I choose (My name is Smilez)\nMy name is Smilez 'cause I laugh at you\nEx-bitch unless you goin' back to dancin' (Dumb ho)\nShe on some OnlyFans shit (Yeah)\nNew girls'll model like vogue cop fashion (Damn right)\nNip slip like Jan\u0435t Jackson\nYeah, she think she got m\u0435 trickin', but she dead wrong\nBut she fuck like a machine, call her Megatron\nWhen she ask for the bread (Danny Phantom), gon' ghost\nOnly fuck a bitch if a mask on\n\nRay Charles, I ain't never seen a bitch I need\nFuck that, I don't need no skis\nIt's so many rich niggas fuckin' bitches for free\nIf a nigga want pussy, make him pay that fee\nI don't want it at all pussy, bitch, gimme some money\nI don't need no lovin'\nCome on, throw that pussy on the block\nMake a nigga a hunnid\nMake that pussy pop like it's a shove it, gansta (Prrr)\nYou might also like\nBlurred bitch, always on Twitter sayin' some absurd shit (Aw)\nBefore this song, you said I was worthless\nNow you on my dick gang, that's some bird shit (Prrr)\nBitch I'm up, got the new Lamb, it's a truck (Skrrt)\nNew bust down, this shit bust\nI don't gotta say much, yeah\n\nRay Charles, I ain't never seen a bitch I need\nFuck that, I don't need no skis\nIt's so many rich niggas fuckin' bitches for free\nIf a nigga want pussy, make him pay that fee\nI don't want it at all pussy, bitch, gimme some money\nI don't need no lovin'\nCome on, throw that pussy on the block\nMake a nigga a hunnid\nMake that pussy pop like it's a shove it, gangsterEmbed"}
{"text":"20 ContributorsPimpin\u2019 Lyrics\nSomebody wake this motherfucker up, man\nYo, get up, nigga\nSuperstaar Beats\nScum Gang, Scum, Scum Gang\n\nShut up, ho, your pussy stank, smack her fast as she could blink\nPimp hand shining, kiss my ring, no shirt underneath the mink\nRub my back and feed me grapes, Oxycontin, Lean and Base\nI screw duwop, I fuck her face, shut up, bitch, your pussy stank\nShut up, ho, your pussy stank, smack her fast as she could blink\nPimp hand shining, kiss my ring, no shirt underneath the mink\nRub my back and feed me grapes, Oxycontin, Lean and Base\nI screw duwop, I fuck her face, shut up, bitch, your pussy stank\n\nPussy, get a lot of it, so for hoes I ain't gotta trip\nI tell that bitch, \"Don't gas yourself, not every chick a model, bitch\"\nI tell that bitch, \"Don't gas yourself, not every chick a model, bitch\"\nWho let you in my V.I.P.? Fuck up off my bottles, bitch!\nRepresent that Scum Gang, mane, respect my conglomerate\nGot a young Scum in the cut with the pump\nIf you act tough, he gon' splatter shit\nWallah don't recycle hoes, hit it once, I'm over it\nScum Gang don't recycle hoes, hit it once, we over it\nMushroom tops and acid trips, while she trip she suck my dick\nWhile she suck I count my guap, respect my conglomerate\nSame day, different shit, same bed, different bitch\nScum niggas gettin' rich, respect my conglomerate\nYou might also like\nShut up, ho, your pussy stank, smack her fast as she could blink\nPimp hand shining, kiss my ring, no shirt underneath the mink\nRub my back and feed me grapes, Oxycontin, Lean and Base\nI screw duwop, I fuck her face, shut up, bitch, your pussy stank\nShut up, ho, your pussy stank, smack her fast as she could blink\nPimp hand shining, kiss my ring, no shirt underneath the mink\nRub my back and feed me grapes, Oxycontin, Lean and Base\nI screw duwop, I fuck her face, shut up, bitch, your pussy stank\n\nWhat the fuck is y'all hatin' for?\nCan't a young Scum fuck bitches anymore?\nCan I have a bad bitch without no flaws\nTo come to see me, without no drawers?\nWhat the fuck is y'all hatin' for?\nCan't a young Scum fuck bitches anymore?\nCan I have a bad bitch without no flaws\nCome and see me, without no drawers?\n\nShut up, ho, your pussy stank, smack her fast as she could blink\nPimp hand shining, kiss my ring, no shirt underneath the mink\nRub my back and feed me grapes, Oxycontin, Lean and Base\nI screw duwop, I fuck her face, shut up, bitch, your pussy stank\nShut up, ho, your pussy stank, smack her fast as she could blink\nPimp hand shining, kiss my ring, no shirt underneath the mink\nRub my back and feed me grapes, Oxycontin, Lean and Base\nI screw duwop, I fuck her face, shut up, bitch, your pussy stank"}
{"text":"Now I'm saying, \"What's good with you?\"\nI remember being in the hood with you\nI still think about you\n\nFuck all the phony shit\nFuck it, I'm stuck on some doly shit\nHad a knife in my back when I wrote this shit\nI look back and I laugh when I noticed it\nI shoot up and lean back on some Kobe shit\nThey don't know how to pass on some Kobe shit\nShould've listened, my mom always told me this\nI was only 13 when she told me this\nWatch who you fuck with\nAnd never ever trust a nigga for nothing\nEven if you feel like you really love her\nDon't ever tell that bitch that you really love her\n'Cause that's when she's gon' make you feel like you nothing\nAnd that's when you gon' start to feel like you buggin'\nI wish I would've never told you wassup\nAnd I wish I never even told you pull up\n\nGot me saying, \"What's good with you?\"\nI remember being in the hood with you\nEverything was always understood with you\nGirl I even bust a couple juugs with you\nI still think about you\nGirl I still think about you\nSaid you always gon' be there for me\nNow you gone and you just disappeared on me\nCan't believe I really thought you cared for me\nYou was s'posed to be the one that's here with me\nI still think about you\nGirl I still think about you\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI hope that I never see you again\nI don't wanna put up with it\nI don't wanna fuck with it\nI'ma just send you this letter whenever I'm done with it\nI know you gon' read it\nI called you a bitch at the end, I don't know if I mean it\nI ain't wanna believe what my niggas was telling me\nMy nigga I shoulda cheated\nAnd now I feel stupid\nI shoulda knew better than this\nWasn't the right way to do it\nI should've been choosing the money instead of a bitch\nFuck it cause I'm gettin' to it\nJust watch how I do it\nI knew I was ready for this\nBitch I'ma focus on music\nYou love how I do it\nI knew I was ready for this\n\nGot me saying, \"What's good with you?\"\nI remember being in the hood with you\nEverything was always understood with you\nGirl I even bust a couple juugs with you\nI still think about you\nGirl I still think about you\nSaid you always gon' be there for me\nNow you gone and you just disappeared on me\nCan't believe I really thought you cared for me\nYou was s'posed to be the one that's here with me\nI still think about you\nGirl I still think about you\nBut all I can say is you dumb ho, you got me feeling stupid\nYou got me singing all these love songs\nWhat the fuck am I doing?\nI don't know what I'm doing\nBut I'm going up though, I just hope I don\u2019t lose it\nBitches pickin' and choosin'\nBut I know what's up tho, I already been through it\nWe coulda been balling together\nHit up the mall, it's whatever\nYou know that I started from nothing\nThem bitches was fed up\nThe way you made all of them jealous\nYou said that you was gon' ride forever and ever\nYou told me forever and ever\nI shoulda known you was lyin'\nI shoulda known better\nYou lied I should\u2019ve knew better\n\nBut still I'm saying, \"What's good with you?\"\nI remember being in the hood with you\nEverything was always understood with you\nGirl I even bust a couple juugs with you\nI still think about you\nGirl I still think about you\nSaid you always gon' be there for me\nNow you gone and you just disappeared on me\nCan't believe I really thought you cared for me\nYou was s'posed to be the one that's here with me\nI still think about you\nGirl I still think about you\nNow I'm saying, \"What's good with you?\"\nI remember being in the hood with you\nEverything was always understood with you\nEven bust a couple juugs with you\nI still think a\u2013\nI still think ab\u2013\nI still think about you yeah\nI still think about you, you, you, you\nHad a knife in my back when I wrote this shit\nI look back and I dab when I noticed it\nI look back and I dab when I noticed it\nI look back and I dab when I noticed it\nI look back and I laughed when I noticed it\nI still think about you, you, you, you\nI still think about you, you, you, you\n(Now I'm saying, \"What's good with you?\")\nI still think about you\nI look back and I dab when I noticed it"}
{"text":"I'm drownin'\nI'm drownin'\nI'm drownin'\nI'm drownin'\n\nWrist so icy, wonder why she like me, bitch I'm drownin'\nIn water, I just bought a Cuban, dipped it in a fountain\nEverywhere that I go it's a light show, I'm surrounded\nBust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bitch I'm drownin'\nI just bought a Cuban ring and dipped it in a fountain\nChain so heavy I feel like I'm holdin' up a mountain\nEverywhere that I go it's a light show, I'm surrounded\nBust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bitch I'm drownin'\n\nI'm with all my niggas, I don't go nowhere without 'em\nIf they don't let us in they might throw shots at the bouncer\nActavis medicine, got it straight from out the doctor's\nI'm with RJ but I call him Wayne 'cause he's a shotta\nPick up the ladder, put it in the gun, make the .9 stretch\nNiggas with attitude, but we come straight out of Highbridge\nI'm gon' make her panties wet when she see the way I flex\nI'm gon' win a Grammy, move my family out the projects\nWe went from chillin' in the projects to makin' projects\nWe was tryna get to the top, and they tried to stop us\nI talk for myself, bitch I don't need no fucking voucher\nShe looked at my wrist and she looked at a hundred thousand\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nWrist so icy, wonder why she like me, bitch I'm drownin'\nIn water, I just bought a Cuban, dipped it in a fountain\nEverywhere that I go it's a light show, I'm surrounded\nBust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bitch I'm drownin'\nI just bought a Cuban ring and dipped it in a fountain\nChain so heavy I feel like I'm holdin' up a mountain\nEverywhere that I go it's a light show, I'm surrounded\nBust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bitch I'm drownin'\n\nJust bought a brand new chain from Avianne\nNigga with attitude but I ain't from Compton\nLil Kodak, bitch, I'm Polo'd down like Carlton\nSniper Gang, I put a nigga on a carton\nI'm the shit I'm fartin', I don't know how to potty\nPull up in a 'Rari, I'm in the Yo like Gotti\nA Boogie, I'm goin' Scottie, nigga drop my deposit\nI ain't Jamaican, bitch I'm Haitian, but I got them shottas\nHarley Davidson every day, I'm ridin' with the chopper\nThey hatin', I know they don't wanna see a nigga prosper\nI ain't doing trims, I'm in the cut like I'm a barber\nShe call me daddy, but I ain't her motherfucking father\n\nWrist so icy, wonder why she like me, bitch I'm drownin'\nIn water, I just bought a Cuban, dipped it in a fountain\nEverywhere that I go it's a light show, I'm surrounded\nBust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bitch I'm drownin'\nI just bought a Cuban ring and dipped it in a fountain\nChain so heavy I feel like I'm holdin' up a mountain\nEverywhere that I go it's a light show, I'm surrounded\nBust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bust down, bitch I'm drownin'\nBitch, I'm drownin'\nBitch, I'm drownin'\nI'm drownin'\nDrownin'\nI'm drownin'"}
{"text":"80 ContributorsJungle Lyrics\nYou gotta D Stackz beat\nNigga, this is what that jungle do\nYou been plottin', nigga, wasn't you?\nI should've never even fucked wit' you\n\nYeah, I started in the back, had to skip the line though\nI'ma keep that shit a stack 'til my fucking time go\nNiggas throw you in the shade 'cause they wanna shine though\nNigga throw me in the grave in a Ferragamo\nMan I can't believe they killed my fucking bro Quado\nShit was so deep I had to say that with my eyes closed\nThat shit made me wanna treat a nigga like he John Doe\nNine on me, Rondo, now that nigga John Doe, ha\n\nThis is all I ever wanted, nigga\nWhy would I let you take it from me, nigga?\nI ain't stupid, ain't no dummy nigga\nA couple fingers on a couple triggers\nFuck with you, why would I fuck with you?\nYou been plottin', nigga wasn't you?\nI should have been watching from the jump with you\nFuck it, this is what that jungle do\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nStarted, what I started\nAnybody want a problem, this is my shit\nTell 'em if they want a problem I'm from Highbridge\nGot a nigga with a shotgun up in my whip\nMaking bitches go retarded with this hard dick\nWhy you think my name is Artist? I'm an artist\nI woke up to a m\u00e9nage, I'm just being honest\nI get money, if I want it, I'ma cop it\nIf a nigga want static, let him have it\nHave you ever seen a mini semi-automatic?\nIt go dumb like a drum, hear the beat blastin'\nWhen it come to that fire, I'm a fucking dragon, ha\n\nNigga, this is what that jungle do\nNigga, this is what that jungle do\nYou been plottin', nigga, wasn't you?\nI shoulda never even fuck wit' you\n\nI was walking in the rain with my Timbs on\nSteppin' over puddles full of pain, it's a big storm\n13 on my Balmains, it's a big storm\nIn the club love to make it rain\nLike what nigga, we don't fuck witcha\nKnow I'm all about my bucks nigga, I don't trust niggas\nEver since I was a young nigga coming up nigga\nAin't nobody show me love nigga, so it's fuck niggas, it's just us, nigga\nNigga this is what that jungle do\nNigga this is what that jungle do\nThat jungle turned me into a monster\nThat jungle made me go harder\nThat jungle turned me to a monster\nThat jungle made me go harder\nThat jungle turned me to a monster\nThat jungle made me go harder\nThat jungle turned me to a monster\nThat jungle made me go harder\n\nThe jungle turned me to a monster\nThe jungle made me go harder\nJungle turned me to a monster\nNigga this is what that jungle do\nNigga this is what the jungle do\nBeen plottin' nigga, wasn't you?\nShould have never even fucked with you"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsTimeless Lyrics\nMm, CP Dubb\nBitch, I'm really timeless\nLet me beat it up like Jaegen\n\nI cannot waste no time, bitch, I'm really timeless\nI cannot leave my houses without diamonds\nAll the faces on my watches, jump out it\nChange faces on the watches, now they frownin'\nI probably spent the 100 thousand on fly shit\nQP spent the 100 thousand on mileage\nBruce Lee kick it with me, I be stylin'\n2 seater Bentley and it's topless\nAnd she's topless, naked bitch driver\nPapers and fronto wrapped around Sour\nI cannot waste no time, bitch, I'm really timeless\nI cannot waste no time, bitch, I'm really...\n\nI cannot waste no time, bitch, I'm really grindin'\nIf I ever said, \"I love you\", I was lyin'\nI fuck with you but you was always like a side bitch\nCause I can never put nothin' over grindin'\n\nI just left my baby girl a message\nI said, I won't be comin' home\nHah, that's a dub, bitch, I'm on the road\nHah, and I need 20 thousand for a show\nHah, I ain't walkin' through your club no more\nHah, But if Lust hit me up I'll go\nHah, SpinKing that's the fuckin' bro\nHah, I fuck it up, I fuck it up some more\nWe switch the flow up, if you a busta I'ma cut you off\nBitch I'm goin' up\nGettin' money, what the fuck you thought?\nNigga, hold up it get ugly\nI'm a fuckin boss, hah\nGood now but I started off\nJust a young nigga runnin' 'round and the butter soft\nTry to run down on me nigga you should knock it off\nI ain't get lucky mothafucka\nTook a couple loses, yeah\nWhat u sayin'? You ain't really on shit\nGot zippers on my jeans like I'm Billy on this\nI ain't sippin' no more lean I've been trippin' off it\nI've been pissin' codeine and I ain't wit the shits, woah\nRockstar lifestyle, might not make it\nWake up faded still end up drinking\nMake-up on my t-shirt, I hate it\nR.I.P. t-shirts, I hate it\nFall asleep, wake up still I'm faded\nBubba prolly lost 50 K in vegas\nPour up purple and then make it turn pinkish\nSaid that I was done with it but I'm still drinkin'\nI can't waste no time, I can't waste no time with it\nI can't waste no time, bitch, I'm really timeless\nI can't waste no time, bitch, I'm really timelessSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsD.T.B. (Interlude) Lyrics\n\nPlugStudios\nWhat the fuck, I'm 'posed to fall in love with you?\nBitch, I should've never even...\n\nWhat the fuck, I'm 'posed to fall in love with you?\nBitch, I should've never even fucked with you\nTrust issues, that shit made me feel uncomfortable\nI should've never made you feel like I was stuck with you\nYou ever had somebody say that they was down for you?\nThey made it feel so real like they really down for you\nThey clown on you every time they turn around on you\nThey not loyal, they happy, they lookin' down on you\nYou really jacking, you don't fuck with me\nNow I feel like you never kept it a buck with me\nYou saying I ain't the daddy, that would be luckily\nI'm hoping that ain't my baby, that shit gon' fuck with me\nYou had me looking like a clown, bitch\nThat other nigga gon' fuck up running his mouth, bitch\nHow I fuck him up and drown him in a fountain\nLeave that little nigga somewhere in the mountains\n\nBut now I'm like, \"What the fuck, nigga?\"\nI love money, I don't love bitches\nFuck bitches, D.T.B., no, I don't trust bitches\nFuck bitches, D.T.B., no, I don't trust bitches\nNo kissing and even hugging\n'Cause I don't wanna fall in love with it\nFuck bitches, D.T.B., no, I don't trust bitches\nFuck bitches, D.T.B., no, I don't trust bitches\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nWhat the fuck, I'm 'posed to fall in love with you?\nBitch, I just wanted to fuck with you\nThought you was cool to kick it, probably get lunch with you\nI never meant for shit to get so fucking comfortable\nYour niggas told you they was down for you\nBut when you fucked up, nigga, they not around for you\nThey say they with it to ride a hundred thou' for you\nThey clown on you as soon as they turn around on you\nI salute ya, you took my bitch and you scooped her\nI'm a loser, I feel like a fucking loser\nFuck the rumors 'cause I passed her back to ya\nRan through her, then I passed her back to ya\nHah!\n\nBut now I'm feeling like I'm, ahh!\nFuck bitches, D.T.B., no, I don't trust bitches\nFuck bitches, D.T.B., no, I don't trust bitches\nLove bitches, nah\nNow I'm like, \"What the fuck, nigga?\"\nI don't wanna fall in love with it\nI love money, I don't love bitches\nFuck bitches, fuck bitches, fuck bitches\nFuck bitches, fuck bitches, fuck bitches\nFuck bitches, my nigga, we don't fuck with ya\nMy nigga, we don't fuck with ya\nFuck bitches, fuck bitches, fuck bitches\nFuck bitches, fuck bitches, fuck bitches\nMy nigga, we don't fuck with ya\nMy nigga, we don't fuck with ya\u2026 why you fuck?\nFuck bitches, D.T.B., no, I don't trust bitches\nFuck bitches, D.T.B., no, I don't trust bitches\n\nI love money, I don't love bitches\nFuck bitches, fuck bitches, fuck bitches, fuck bitches\nMy nigga, we don't fuck\u2026 with ya\nSo why you fuck with us?\nI believed in you, should've told me you had a seed in you\nThis whole time you was frontin' and I ain't see it in you\nNow I'm thinkin' what was you doin' when I ain't sleep with you\nNow your toothbrush is my new Jordan cleaner\nI know what a ten is, you not Serena\nYou was supposed to be my dream girl\nTwo-seater, for me and you in a Bimmer\nBut now you showed me not to love bitches\nNow you showed me not to trust bitches\nFuck bitches, just hit it, never run wit' it\nHit the blunt\nForget about her when the blunt hit ya\nWho did it? Bitch, you did it\nReally thought that I was losin' it, now I'm losin'\nEver since I been in school, they been pick and choosin'\nI don't know how I go through with it, I go through with it\nThis is stupid\nBut who the fuck am I to judge bitches?\nI guess I never knew how to love bitches\nFuck bitches, fuck bitches, fuck bitches\nMy nigga we don't fuck\u2026 with ya\nSo why you fuck with us?\nFuck bitches, fuck bitches"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsMy Shit Lyrics\nIn my bag now, In my bag now (Bag now)\nWhat the fuck is that sound? (That sound)\nWhat the fuck is that sound? (That sound)\n\nBrought the MAC out, niggas sat down\nI got shit I never had now, I could brag now\nGot my bitch a Louis bag now, she could brag now\nBought my bitch a Birkin bag now, she a brat now\nNow I'm sittin' in the club in a different bag now\nBaby when I pick it up you gon' put that ass down\nTell 'em you don't give a fuck, baby spin that ass 'round\nTell the DJ turn it up, what the fuck is that sound?\nA Boogie Wit Da Hoodie and it's always foreign\nYeah I know she like my style, them other niggas borin'\nWhen I pull up, it go skrrt-skrrt, that's a foreign\nWhen I pull up on a red light, they don't want it\nYeah I came up from the mud and my baby know that\nIntroduced her to my plug, now she think she all that\nWhen I first hit her up, no she never wrote back\nThen I saw her at the club so I got up on that\n\nNow every time they play this song she say \"This is my shit\" (This is my shit)\nSee the flick of my wrist (Flick of my wrist)\nAnd I know she know wassup, baby, this is my shit (This is my shit)\nSee the flick of my wrist (Flick of my wrist)\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nThey know that's my bitch, that's a fact and she stuck with me\nWhen you in my section, fill it up when my cup empty\nI can't fuck with rats, that's a fact, that's a dub nigga\nAll about my F, can't put water over blood, nigga\nTrust me, it get ugly\nIf I wasn't gettin' money would you still want me?\nIf I told you I was broke would you start actin' funny?\nThis is all I ever wanted, you can't take it from me\n\nNow every time they play this song, she say \"This is my shit\" (This is my shit)\nSee the flick of my wrist (Flick of my wrist)\nAnd I know she know what's up baby this is my shit (This is my shit)\nSee the flick of my wrist (Flick of my wrist)"}
{"text":"89 ContributorsSwervin Lyrics\nUh\nYeah\nOh, that's London On Da Track, run that shit back\nWe got London On Da Track\n\nSwervin\u2019\nHow you look so perfect on your worst days?\nDouble C your purses, you deserve it\nNiggas in your DM, they be thirsty (Thirsty), and in person\nBut you're curvin'\nCurvy little body, love your surface (Surface)\nYeah, I\u2019m all on your body, make you nervous\nI like the way you keep up with your earnings\nYeah, it's okay, 'cause you swervin'\n\nI fuck you from the back and leave you turnin' (Turnin')\nThe type to make you feel like I'm so worth it (Worth it)\nBlame my ex, that bitch, she did me dirty (Did me dirty)\nHad me fall in love and then she curved me\n(on God, swear to God, I don't wanna leave you, no)\nNew Louboutin, you would think I\u2019m bleedin\u2019 from my toes\nDick all inside of you, make you freeze, make you pose\nI want you to get up on your knees and your toes\nI see one of my enemies, they gon' freeze like they cold\nI swear I ain\u2019t no killer, but test me if you want\nYou don't want my adrenaline rushin', leave me alone (Leave me alone)\nSo much shit up on my mind, I can't think, yeah\nAll my niggas rock designer like they scream (Grrat)\nGot the AP covered, diamonds with baguettes, yeah\nI thought everything was right, that\u2019s when you left, yeah\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nSwervin' (Swervin')\nHow you look so perfect on your worst days? (Worst days)\nDouble C your purses, you deserve it\nNiggas in your DM, they be thirsty (Thirsty), and in person (Person)\nBut you're curvin'\nCurvy little body, love your surface (Surface)\nYeah, I'm all on your body, make you nervous\nI like the way you keep up with your earnings\nYeah, it's okay, you be swervin'\n\nWhere these bitches at? I'm in the V with the tints\nGot the FN on my body and the clip on hollow tips\nNiggas say they gon' rob me and they still ain't do shit\nCatch her waitin' in the lobby, I'ma give her this dick\nMan, where these niggas at? Man, where these niggas at?\nWe gon' pull up big bodies with the Rugers in the back\nI got Rugers and the MAC's, pump leave a nigga flat\nTalkin' hot, we spin the block, we gon' leave him where he at\n\nLike, where these niggas at? Ayy, where these niggas at?\nI'ma pull up in the big body with the fuckin' MAC\nIf the opps try to turn my song off, run it back\nUsed to have the pack in my long johns, now I rap\nIf a nigga wanna act out, got the MAC out\nI ain't got no fuckin' back-up, that's a man down\nI ain't got the fuckin' forty, knock his teeth out\nSpin back with the Ruger, air the block out\n\nSwervin' (Swervin')\nHow you look so perfect on your worst days? (Worst days)\nDouble C your purses, you deserve it\nNiggas in your DM, they be thirsty (Thirsty), and in person (Person)\nBut you're curvin'\nCurvy little body, love your surface (Surface)\nYeah, I'm all on your body, make you nervous\nI like the way you keep up with your earnings\nYeah, it's okay, 'cause you swervin'\n\nThe way that I live my life is amazing\nBack to back big bodies, no more dreams, yeah\nSo much shit up on my mind, I couldn't think, yeah\nAll my niggas rock designer like they scream, yeah\nGot the AP covered, diamonds with baguettes, yeah\nSay my name in your song and it's lit, yeah\nBeen waiting for a nigga like this, yeah\nWe got London On Da Track"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easLook Back at It Lyrics\nLook back at it\nShe ain't never do this before, but she good at it\nSaid she never made love, but she good at it (She good at it)\nShe make a nigga feel good when I look at it (Yeah)\nI get goosebumps when I look at it (Look at it)\nOh, girls just wanna have fun with it (Fun with it)\nAll the girls just wanna have fun with me (Fun with me)\nThese girls ain't really no good for me, yeah\n\nDrrrat, da-da, da\nDrrrat, da-da-da, da\nDrrrat, da-da-um-da\nDrrrat, da-da-da-um-da\nYeah, got a new Benz that I ain't promotin', yeah\nAll of my friends love money throwin'\nDrrrat, da-da-da-um-da\n\nLet me tell you something 'bout my life\nAnd every single chain, and my diamond rings\nThe way you walkin', the way you talkin', it's all because of me\nAnd the way I'm all on you, girl, you know it's true\nThe way I speak, it's my melody\nDon't you ever think it's another me\nGirl, on everything, it's a lot on me\nI cannot be seen, I cannot be takin' apologies\nYeah, they plot on me, 'cause that bag on me\nYeah, they after me, I got racks on me\nGot the stash on me, think they gassin' me\nYeah, hoodie on low but I stay focused\nYeah, it's hard to stay low when everybody notice, yeah\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nLook back at it\nShe ain't never do this before, but she good at it\nSaid she never made love, but she good at it\nShe make a nigga feel good when I look at it\nI get goosebumps when I look at it\nOh, girls just wanna have fun with it\nAll the girls just wanna have fun with me\nThese girls ain't really no good for me, yeah\n\nDrrrat, da-da, da\nDrrrat, da-da-da, da\nDrrrat, da-da-um-da\nDrrrat, da-da-da-um-da\nYeah, got a new Benz that I ain't promotin', yeah\nAll of my friends love money throwin'\nDrrrat, da-da-da-um-da\nDrrrat, da-da-um-da\n\nCan I come by and vibe? (Can I?)\nI get a different type of fly (Fly)\nHit a lick and split it with my guys (My guys)\nGettin' rich I'm really lit, but I (I)\nAin't shit, I admit it but I try (I try)\nIf I'm wrong, just tell me that I'm right\nLet me tell you somethin' 'bout my life (My life)\nLook back at it\nSaid she never made love, but she good at it (Good at it)\nI get goosebumps when I look at it (When I look at it)\nAll the girls just wanna have fun with me\nThese girls..."}
{"text":"57 ContributorsNo Promises Lyrics\nWasn't I good to you?\nCardo got wings\n\nYeah, at least I was good to you\nAt least I was good to you\nAt least I was good to you\nAt least I was good to you\n\nI can't make no fucking promises\nLifestyle getting out of control, lifestyle getting ludicrous\nI made a milli' in less than a year and I blew that on stupid shit\nTyped it in like, \"How to make a milli'\" I used to google it\nSavannah just wanted to see me perform\nAnd got hit over stupid shit\nI woke up and saw the shit right on my phone\nThey don't know who the shooter is\nYou never know, never feel untouchable\nI touched your soul, made you feel so comfortable\nIf I let you go, I would feel so skeptical\nUnacceptable but I still gotta let you know\nYeah, that I can't make no fucking promises\nI can't make no fucking promises, I can't make no fucking promises\nYeah, lifestyle on the road, sheesh\nUsed to always want a Rollie, now I want a new two-tone gold Patek\nYeah, we couldn't go to Phillipe's\nI had to be on that corner until it was morning\nSo me and my niggas could eat\nI be the one with the sauce, I never thought it was sweet\nI got my foot in the door\nThey never gave me the key, I had to turn to a ki\nEven when I was a boy\nI was the man in the streets, I was the man with the heat\nI was a beast, sheesh\nHe had her heart, but she tried to give it to me\nDamn, but she can't keep no fucking promises\nShit, I'm coming with a lotta money, money comes with a lotta shit\nTold Mo, \"Bring the studio to everywhere we go\" and that's a lotta hits\nSlo-mo in my videos, when the lights out, all my diamonds hit\nSomething 'bout blue faces, I like money conversations\nWhole lotta 20's that's basic, nigga, fuck it, I'm shameless\nCan't fuck with a snitch nigga, if you get caught, don't say shit\nHave you ever met another nigga like me? I bet you won't say shit\nI went from rags to riches\nI bagged the bitches that gave me the straight face\nI hit the baddest bitches\nIt's sad but I had to curve 'em the same day\nI treated them bad\nI wouldn't be mad if I was to get treated the same way\nSo treat me the same way, same way, same way\nI was a savage to you\nI had to give up and put all my hoes to the side\nI swear if I ever left you in the cold\nIt's 'cause it was colder inside\nLook here, I swear if you ever try to leave me alone\nI hope you don't turn to a thot\nMost of the niggas that call me only hit my phone\nBecause I get money a lot\nI be the one with the throne\nYou say you gon' take it but nigga we know that's a lie\nEven before we was on\nThe money was long and we used to fuck up the spot\nBitches was singing my song\nI knew I was on, right when I bust down a watch\nNiggas was hating before and they hate on me now\nBut don't know what to say to me now\nI was gonna do it to her, but I don't really wanna use her\nKeep giving excuses, when we really gonna link up?\nEven if I sound stupid, I'ma say what's real to her\nEven if she not truthful, fuck it I'ma still be good to you\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nYeah, at least I was good to you\nAt least I was good to you\nYeah, at least I was good to you\nAt least I was good to you"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsNot a Regular Person Lyrics\nNess on the beat\nI'm not a regular person\n\nDone with the perkys\nI don't even feel like it's working\nI was playing the bench, I was lurking\nOn the block where they plotting on murking\nYou don't even know I was hurting\nI was fucked up, a bitch had me hurting\nAnd I think she did it on purpose\nI can't fuck with the hate, I'm allergic\nI feel like they had me on standby\nSee the pain in my damn eyes\nI got out of jail and my mans died\nI never sleep, I'm a vampire\nI'm not a regular person\nI can't be giving out verses\nI'm making the industry nervous\nI'm still working through all the disturbance\nI'm done with these Balenciagas\nThey keep on fucking my socks up\nNothing but foreigns behind us\nWe used to pull up in the Honda\nNow every time that we pop up\nWe got to pull up in designer\nWe doing it just to remind us\nTo never go back to the bottom\nThey started off hating on me\nEverybody debating on me\nA nigga wrote a statement on me\nMy life, they want to take it from me\nSo I got a .380 on me\nIt ain't never on safety, I be\nHaving all of this paper on me\nI just hope you praying for me\nI can tell you what happened\nThe streets turned me into a savage\nI started off juggin' and trapping\nWatch a couple a niggas get blasted\nWay too much blood for a napkin\nWon't nobody tell you what happened\nI'm good when you see me in traffic\nAutomatic in the Benz 4matic\nIn the S550 I'm speeding\nNigga you wouldn't believe it\nI came up from nothing I mean it\nNow I'm living everything I was dreaming\nI'm killing, I feel like I'm cheating\nThey kept on giving me reasons\nCan't nobody get in between us\nOnly us, I put that on everything\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nFuck it up, fuck it up now\nMy nigga, it's just us now\nEvery Rollie getting bust down\nYoung niggas repping uptown\nI was down but I'm up now\nFuck around with them fuck 'rounds\nAin't no pounds or \"what's ups\" now\nPretty bitches hit me up now\n\nI got on Saint Laurent, come here baby\nI just wanted some company baby\nI don't want you to feel like I'm playing\nCan I fuck you without you complaining?\nGot no time for a lunch with you baby\nI get bread, what the fuck is you saying?\nI get fly on any different occasion\nI be in and out of different locations\nI can't stop, I put on for this\nSwear to god I put on for this\nHad to move out my mama's crib\nHad to put in overtime for this\nI can brag cause I'm confident\nI'm the man, ain't no stopping it\nI don't got to wait for a shopping list\nI want to body a fit then I'm copping it\nI fuck it up, fuck it up now\nEvery Rollie getting bust down\nYoung niggas repping uptown\nI was down but I'm up now\nAin't no pounds or \"what's ups\" now\nMy nigga it's just us now\nI'm not a regular person, I'm not a regular person\nI'm not a regular person, I'm not a regular person\nI'm not a regular person"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsFall in Love Lyrics\nPlug Studios\nBaby, you ain't never fucked with a thug\nSo what's up? I'll make you fall in love with it\nMake you fall in love with it\n\nFuck it, I'm goin' in now, watch what I do to this\nNobody told me this shit I had to get used to it\nNiggas thinkin' I'm buggin', they think I'm losing it\nMichael Jordan I'm ballin', they think I'm hoopin' it\nShe popped a Perc' and it's workin' so I go through with it\nI sip a cup of the lean and then I go through with it\nShe moanin', screamin' and tell me keep on doin' it\nI'm A Boogie, whats goodie, baby I'm true to this\nI pulled up in my hoodie so you could know it's me\nAyo that's word to my F, it ain't a ho on me\nA nigga talk behind my back, that's a ho to me\nA nigga gave me his word and then he told on me\nHe ain't really hold it down, how it's supposed to be\nI should've put him in the ground, how it's supposed to be\nBodies tryna get found while I'm rollin' weed\nSki mask, I'm hoping that they don't notice me\nChopper knock a nigga down on purpose\nI'll pull up with a fuckin' Trey Pound on purpose (Ah)\nRa Sosa got a thottie on him twerkin'\nGotti with me waves lettin' niggas drown on purpose (Ah)\nNay Glizzy, he a hound on purpose\nThat's my dog, I'll never let him down on purpose\nBubba told me go wild on purpose\nNigga why the fuck you think I'm goin' wild on 'em? (Ah)\nI'm puttin' pain on 'em\nHollow tip, I let it rip\nI let it rain on em'\nFuck a hook, I put a chain on 'em\nI tie that shit 'round ya neck\nI spill the brains on 'em\nI know that shit ain't been the same niggas\nChange on you for the money and the fame\nBut I'm\nGoin' up like a plane, nigga\nI ain't even gotta tell 'em I ain't playin' with 'em (Ah)\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nBut I'm goin' up\nBaby, you ain't never fucked with a thug\nSo what's up? I'll make you fall in love with it\nAnd she know what's up\nAnd she know I keep a gun in the glove\nAnd it's tough 'cause she hold it when I'm done with it\nYeah\nBut I'm goin' up\nBaby, you ain't never fucked with a thug\nSo what's up? I'll make you fall in love with it\nAnd she know what's up\nAnd she know I keep a gun in the glove\nAnd it's tough 'cause she hold it when I'm done with it\n\nAnd I ain't even gon' lie\nA lot of niggas say they gon' ride\nThey ain't really gon' ride\nThey don't want to be a homicide\nSo they callin' niggas bro\nBut they really playin' both sides\nI don't trust a nigga, bottom line\nAnd I don't trust a bitch, bottom line\nJust because she on ya ride\nThat don't mean she ya ride-or-die\nYour worst enemy could be right by your side (Hah)\nBut I'm goin' up\nBaby you ain't never fucked with a thug\nSo wassup, I'll -- I'll make you fall in -- yeah, baby\nI'll make you fall in love with it (Yeah)\nAnd she know wassup\nAnd she know I keep a gun in the glove\nAnd it's tough 'cause she hold it whenever I'm done with it\n\nYeah, she gone hold it when I'm done with it\nShe gone hold it when I'm done with it\nShe already know what's up with it\nI'm the plug with it (Yeah)\nBaby now I'm havin' fun with it\nI'ma thug with it\nI'ma keep on goin' though, keep on goin', right now\n\nNow I'm goin' up, baby you ain't never fucked with a thug\nSo wassup I'll make you fall in love with it\nI think she know -- and she know I keep a gun in glove\nAnd it's tough cause she hold it whenever I'm done wit' it\nNow I'm goin' up\nBaby you ain't ever fucked with a thug\nSo wassup I'll make you fall in love with it (Yeah)\nAnd she know wassup\nAnd she know I keep a gun in a glove\nAnd it's tough 'cause she hold it whenever I'm done with it"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsFriend Zone Lyrics\nAnother one, it's another one\nAnd another one\nHuh?\n\nEvery time I make another one, it's another one\nDon't be all up on my french toast when that butter come\nShe tried to put me in the friend zone, but she wanted some\nFuck it, I'll be in that friend zone 'cause I fuck with her\nAfter fuckin' her\nShe tried to put me in the friend zone\nFuck it, I'll be in that friend zone\nScorin' like the end zone\nHuh?\n\nTwo doors, black on black whip\nTold that bitch that I'm from New York, she like my accent\nEvery time I get a new jawn, she the baddest\nAll these zippers on my Balmain, I feel like Jackson\nEvery time she give me good head, I give her backshots\nMan that pussy so good, I don't wanna back out\nSo I gotta strap up, just to blow her back out\nWhen she know I'm 'bout to nut, she don't tell me, \"Back out\"\nShe put her ass out\nThat's what happened before I passed out\nShe really got me in my bag now\nShe got me in my bag now, huh?\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nEvery time I make another one, it's another one\nDon't be all up on my french toast when that butter come\nShe tried to put me in the friend zone, but she wanted some\nFuck it, I'll be in that friend zone 'cause I fuck with her\nAfter fuckin' her\nShe tried to put me in the friend zone\nFuck it, I'll be in that friend zone\nScorin' like the end zone\nHuh?\n\nI laughed with her, smoked gas with her\nWhen I showed her I can rap, she said, \"You a bad nigga\"\nI said, \"What about your man?\" She said, \"Fuck that nigga\"\nYou must have been doin' bad with her\nShe said she only let me hit to get you mad\nOh, it's so sad, nigga\nTakin' niggas bitches back to back, yeah I'm that nigga\nA-Boogie on her titty, took my autograph with her\nWhoever she goin' home to, I feel bad for that nigga\nHe gon' be a mad nigga\nHe won't even wanna talk about it\nWhen we started fuckin' she promised we never talk about it (Never talk about it)\nBitches be for everybody, nigga why you trippin' 'bout it\nFuck a nigga bitch, now I can't even leave the crib without it\nHe a bitch about it\nYeah, he a bitch about it\nFucked a nigga bitch, now I can't even leave the crib without it\nYeah, he a bitch about it\n\nEvery time I make another one, it's another one\nDon't be all up on my french toast when that butter come\nShe tried to put me in the friend zone, but she wanted some\nFuck it, I'll be in that friend zone 'cause I fuck with her\nAfter fuckin' her\nShe tried to put me in the friend zone\nAh! Another one\nRa-ra-ra-ra-ra-ra\nNa-na-na-na-na-na\nNa-na-na-na-na-na\nAnother one, it's another one\nNa-na-na-na-na-na"}
{"text":"27 Contributors99 Problems & Messages Lyrics\nAny nigga couldn't sit in my chair\nYeah it's on nigga this is my year\nI done ran through all this fly gear\nLouboutin shoes more than five pairs\nYou don't like me, what the fuck do I care?\nI get money what the fuck do I care\nI was posted on the block where\nTry to rob and you get shot there\nI'm a monster, I'm a goblin\nI go hard and I'ma rocket\nI spent 13 on a wallet just a black card in the wallet\nFuck a car key push the start it\nThought I told y'all I'm an artist\nGot a baddie in the valley out in Cali pushing gardens\nCan't fuck with the extra shit\nEvery time I go out it's an extra bitch\nTryna get in my bed to have sex and shit\nI just wanted some head like the exorcist\nI got 99 problems and messages\nDon't be asking me why I won't text you bitch\nWrap your legs around me like we wrestling\nGet on your knees don't you be so damn hesitant\nWhen I get your body I'ma be alright\nAnd when I get a 'Rari you can be inside it\nI'ma get another one and let you drive it\nBaecation for an extra night\nAnd I won't tell nobody all your secrets, I can keep a secret girl\nI know you need somebody\nAnd I really need somebody\nSo tell me you're that somebody, girl\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI think I might be too late but I'm sorry\nI'm sorry baby, but you should thank me\nAppreciate me, congratulate me\nI got money I don't need to stress a bitch\n\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\n\nI got 21 questions for you that I wanna know\nWould you make me look stupid\nI'm really feeling the way that you moving\nI just wanna know if you finna come through tonight\nI can promise you that I'ma do you right\nYou gon' wish you can go back and do it twice\nI can pick you up in an uber right\nGet high on the way to a flight\nWould you ride for me? Would you lie for me?\nWhen you come around good vibes with me\nI rock with you, do you rock with me?\nI swear other bitches do not get me\nDon't be scared baby this is my city\nBut just in case I keep a .9 with me\nI was hoping you can grind with me\nIt gets lonely on this side baby\nBut can you stay the fuck off my Instagram\nI don't know why my phone's always in your hand\nBaby I try to get you to understand mind your business\nYou know I'm a businessman\nI'ma give you the time of day when I can\nTook a minute for me to be who I am\nMy finesse, I can turn a five to a ten\nI been traveling, they don't know where I am\nBut, I think I might be too late but I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby\nBut you should thank me, appreciate me, congratulate me\nI got money I don't need a stressful bitch\n\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages\nI got 99 problems and messages"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsHalf On a Baby Lyrics\nYou didn't tell me you love me until I said I loved you\nBut I didn't love you until after I fucked you\nAre we both guilty? Do you feel me?\nI was tryna go half and half with you on a baby\nI must've been crazy to let you play me\nBitch, I'm too wavy, you can never replace me\nAnd I can't take it, you was amazing\nI would've went half and half with you on a baby\n\nYou was the one, I said I loved you so I fucked with you\nI was hearing rumors, hoping that they wasn't true\nYou would call my phone thinking it was cool but you knew\nEverything that you told me that you wasn't doing\nYou do girl, it was true girl\nNow I got a couple new girls in my new world\nAny different type of mood, I can pick and choose girls\nTell me what you wanna do, I can pick you up\nIn a two door, that's a new sport, come and hop in\nAll them niggas talking nonsense, they don't want this\nGirl I prolly would've gave you anything you wanted\nGirl I prolly would've put a baby in your stomach\n\nHalf on a baby, Na Na Nah\nHalf on a baby, Na-Na Nah-Na\nHalf on a baby, Na-Na Nah Nah\nNah Na-Na Nah Na\nShawty, me, you, and a baby\nCould've been me, you, and a baby\nHalf on a baby, on a baby\nHalf on a baby, on a, ha!\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI told her the moment that I approached her\nCome closer, I needed a little closure\nHeart colder, I'm looking over my shoulder\nThen I showed her something to make her come over\nI put lemons in the jacuzzi, if you see\nHow I move, we might end up making a movie\nCome through, see what I'm talking is really true things\nWe can do things, girl we can do things\nIf you wanna do it on the low, we can do it that's cool\nBut if you fuck it up that's you\nI can cut you off in a second if you try to act new\nOh, I'll be throwing up my deuce, yeah\n\nHalf on a baby, Na Na Nah\nHalf on a baby, Na-Na Nah-Na\nHalf on a baby, Na-Na Nah Nah\nNah Na-Na Nah Na\nShawty, me, you, and a baby\nCould've been me, you, and a baby\nHalf on a baby, on a baby\nHalf on a baby, on a, ha!"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsNumbers Lyrics\nWe got London on da Track\n\nYou mad, nigga, your adrenaline rushin', it feel like a\u2005bus,\u2005but I'm whippin'\u2005the Wraith\nGot my head to the\u2005ceiling, want me in my feelings, only got me feelin' a way\nI ain't sayin' I'm addicted, Adderall prescripted, fuck it 'cause I don't feel the pain\nLet a nigga touch my chain, fuck it, nigga, kill him, fuck it, they can take me away\n\nI got my dawgs in this bitch, I know they gon' shoot shit up\nAnd my lil' brother turned to a drummer\nWalked him outside, now he got the llama\nI took that Maybach where the J's at\nTell my brothers ball a hundred summers\nAll my niggas know run up them numbers\nFuck it, run up them numbers (Yeah)\n\nRun up them numbers\nOKC, you don't want no thunder\nThe old Tracy McGrady, the one\nOKC, you don't want no thunder, yeah\nChristian the sweater\nOkay, Christian Dior the sweater\nThe double R came with the umbrella\nWhen I put the hoodie on, it get realer, yeah\nPut a hundred thousand in my Prada jeans\nGot some little homies, got some prodigies\nAnd I spent five hundred on Prada tees\nMade it out the projects, poppin' overseas\nShawty gave me sloppy toppy on the seat\nI make some calls, you can't cop the fleet\nGotta be an antisocial gangster 'cause the feds watchin' my tweets\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nYou mad, nigga, your adrenaline rushin', it feel like a bus, but I'm whippin' the Wraith\nGot my head to the ceiling, want me in my feelings, only got me feelin' a way\nI ain't sayin' I'm addicted, Adderall prescripted, fuck it 'cause I don't feel the pain\nLet a nigga touch my chain, fuck it, nigga, kill him, fuck it, they can take me away\n\nI got my dawgs in this bitch, I know they gon' shoot shit up\nAnd my lil' brother turned to a drummer\nWalked him outside, now he got the llama\nI took that Maybach where the J's at\nTell my brothers ball a hundred summers\nAll my niggas know run up them numbers\nFuck it, run up them numbers\n\nFuck it, I ran up the numbers\nPiped up like a plumber\nAnd sold all the bundles (Sold all the bundles)\nI paid off the debt to your honor\nAnd went got some commas and commas and commas (Racks)\nYou let it get to your head, yeah, I remember when you was a runner (You was a runner)\nI heard you got snatched by the feds, yeah, say you willin' to tell 'em whatever (Yeah)\nI still be killin' in projects, even though I been runnin' them numbers up\nThey used to tell me I'm not next, I'm like look at me now, I'm in front of them\nAnd I just hope you never set me up, my lifestyle too irregular\nAnd I don't know how I'ma trust again, I swear\nAudemars might fuck up your eyes, yeah\nI bust down a piece of the pie, yeah\nI wanna speed off in a Cayenne (Speed off in a Cayenne)\nI got a cup full of Hi-Tech\nHave a pool party with the posse (Pool party with the posse)\nWe be the talk of the topic\nThese fuck niggas don't where the drop at (Uh)\nThey won't want us ridin' in the drophead\nAnd he mad that my bitch got a Masi'\nYou mad, nigga, your adrenaline rushin', it feel like a bus, but I'm whippin' the Wraith\nGot my head to the ceiling, want me in my feelings, only got me feelin' a way\nI ain't sayin' I'm addicted, Adderall prescripted, fuck it 'cause I don't feel the pain\nLet a nigga touch my chain, fuck it, nigga, kill him, fuck it, they can take me away\n\nI got my dawgs in this bitch, I know they gon' shoot shit up\nAnd my lil' brother turned to a drummer\nWalked him outside, now he got the llama\nI took the Maybach where the J's at\nTell my brothers ball a hundred summers\nAll my niggas know run up them numbers\nFuck it, run up them numbers"}
{"text":"Yeah, I loved her too hard, she left me here with this guitar\nYou can try\u2005stealing\u2005my heart, it's\u2005already gone\nYou can tell something is\u2005wrong, just leave me alone\nI don't even know where to start, I'm just done\nUsed to being in my room with you\nNow you're gone, I only see you through the phone now, where did you go?\nI should've never told you leave me alone, I guess you took it to the heart\nYeah, let's go\n\nIt's just me and this guitar, playing this song\nYou can try stealing my heart, it's already gone\nYou can tell something is wrong, just leave me alone\nI don't even know where to start, I'm just done\nUsed to being in my room with you, now you're gone\nOh, I only see you through a phone now, where did you go?\nI should've never told you, \"Leave me alone\"\nI guess you took it to the heart when I said, \"Leave me a\u2014\"\n\nSweat going down to my balls, I'm having withdrawals\nIt's crazy, baby, all of my scars shaped in hearts\nLamborghini Urus, Ferraris, extra cars\nIf you start bringing up love, I'm bringing my gun\nI never knew I'd make it this far, it feels bizarre\nBut you know my energy large, like a Quran\nAnd you know I work too hard, I came too far\nI'm happy I'm still alive\n'Cause half of my niggas they either died or in the system\nThen if I ain't start rapping I swear to God I'd have been with them\nI baguetteed out my watches, I'm a timeless ass nigga\nI was creepin' on the low, yeah, I'm a doggy ass nigga\nBut I'm an honest nigga, I can only lie when it comes to snitchin'\nI hold grudges with my bitches, if you lie I won't forgive you\nJust don't go tell nobody about those times that I was with you\nYou got my shoulder to lean on if you want to cry, fuck a tissue\nIn and out of love so many fucking times, I don't get it\nI could get on some gangsta shit, then turn the vibe sentimental\nYou say you front on my nigga and he ain't ride, wrong nigga\nSwear it's way too many hoes that be dying over bitches (Yeah)\nYeah, let's go\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nIt's just me and this guitar, playing this song\nYou can try stealing my heart, it's already gone\nYou can tell something is wrong, just leave me alone\nI don't even know where to start, I'm just done\nUsed to being in my room with you, now you're gone\nOh, I only see you through a phone now, where did you go?\nI should've never told you, \"Leave me alone\"\nI guess you took it to the heart when I said, \"Leave me a\u2014\"\n\nI lost her heart, she left me here with this guitar\nSo if you plan on stealing my heart, it's already gone\nYou can tell something is wrong, just leave me alone\n'Cause I don't even know where to start, I'm just done\nUsed to being in my room with you, now you're gone\nOh, I only see you through a phone now, where did you go?"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsTranslationsPortugu\u00easCome Closer Lyrics\nHitmaka\nOh-oh, oh, yeah\n\nLet's take a jet to Aruba, I know it sounds nice, ooh\nYou gon' fall into my trap, you gon' fall right through\nEven when you're with your lover and your phone's on mute\nWhen I call you an Uber, you gon' come right through\nNeed to cry you a river\nIf you lie, won't forgive you\nAnd I won't ever, ever trust you\nAnd I won't ever, ever miss you\nAnd yeah I love my baby mother\nBut if she fuck another nigga\nI won't ever, ever touch her\nAnd don't you ever get it twisted\nYeah, I'ma cry me a river\nJust get it out your system\nYou know how much I really want you\nYou know I'll never ever forget you\nWay too much time spent on strippers\nAin't mean to cut you out the picture\nI don't mean to be callin' you \"bitch\" and shit\nBut I be buggin' off the liquor\nThe muscle relaxant was workin'\nThrowin' it back while she squirtin'\nDon't need surgery, you're perfect\nRemember when bitches was curvin'\nCan't no nigga get you Birkins\nEvery time you think I'm lurkin'\nAll my clothes, you were burnin'\nOh that's how you feel? That's the word, yeah\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nCome closer\nAll I ever needed was some closure\nCome closer\nAll I ever needed was some\n\nYou told me that you need some closure, you said come over\nI don't need to take no Uber, I drive a Rover\nTryna bribe me with a bag, wait, nigga, hold up\nIf you ever try to play me, nigga, you's a whole dub, whole dub\nAlways got what I wanted\nNever asked nobody for nothin'\nI can take a trip to the islands alone\nBut if you want it you\nGotta come with somethin' new\nI don't know what's wrong with you\nSo over your petty games, you're getting way too comfortable\nOh-oh, oh\nGettin' real comfortable treatin' me like a regular\nDon't bring out the worst in me when I bring out the best in you\nBoy, I ain't average\nDon't make me turn savage\nI need you to see that I'm no regular girl\n\nCome closer (Oh-oh, oh-whoa)\nAll I ever needed was some closure (Needed some closure)\nCome closer\nAll I ever needed was some closure (All I ever needed was some closure)\nCome closer, oh, oh (All I ever needed was some closure)\nCome closer, oh, oh\nAll he ever needed was some closure"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsSay A\u2019 Lyrics\nNess on the beat\n...the fuck I'm supposed to say?\nWhat the fuck I'm supposed to say? Ayy\n\nWhat the fuck I'm supposed to say?\nPolice pull me over, they ain't got nothing to say\nI told 'em, \"I got tints because I'm rich\", they said, \"Okay\", ayy\nGotta pray a lot, niggas get shot up everyday, ayy\nHold up, what the fuck I'm supposed to say?\nPolice pull me over, they ain't got nothing to say\nI told 'em, \"I got tints because I'm rich\", they said, \"Okay\", ayy\nGotta pray a lot, niggas get shot up everyday, ayy\nHeard you got a big body but a little face, ayy\nGot a 41 bezel, it's 100K, ayy\nIf I feel a way then I'm gon' say it to your face, ayy\nIf I play the block today, I'll make 100K, ayy\n\nYeah, I just might make 100K, yeah\nIf they put a price on me, I'll double what they pay, yeah\nThey say they don't like me, give a fuck 'bout what they say, yeah\nI could take your bitch and make you think about what you say, yeah\nI'm gon' put her in a leg lock like MMA, yeah\nI'm gon' let her give me head twice if she don't say shit\nIf she ever turn sherm on me then she basic\nCouple bitches, had to swerve on 'em, I updated\nYou pulled up with her, she ain't leave with who she came with\nShe deserve better, you's a bird, you's a wasteman\nFuck a umbrella, change weather in my spaceship\nDiamonds dancing, I'm two-stepping with my bracelet\nSo, get the fuck up out my face\nI'm just on my way to get this money and I'm late, okay\nIn the strip club, throwing twenties like \"I'll be okay\"\n100k a day, trap booming like an 808\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nYeah, what the fuck I'm supposed to say?\nPolice pull me over, they ain't got nothing to say\nI told 'em, \"I got tints because I'm rich\", they said, \"Okay\", ayy\nGotta pray a lot, niggas get shot up everyday, ayy\nHeard you got a big body but a little face, ayy\nGot a 41 bezel, it's 100K, ayy\nIf I feel a way then I'm gon' say it to your face, ayy\nIf I play the block today, I'll make 100K, ayy\n\nHold up, talking shit don't ever get to me\nWhen they see me now, they'd better have that same energy\nIn abandoned houses, in and out, it wasn't shit to me\nWhen you see me now, don't try to act like you remember me\nThey look at me now, bitch I'm drownin'\nAnd my hoodie Saint Laurent, it's a thousand\nAnd we come straight out the Bronx so we wildin'\nShoutout BK, free Bobby and free Rowdy\nFree my nigga V12, holla if you see twelve\nFebreze, believe me, it'll cover the weed smell\nI probably got three mil', sittin' in my email\nSo much on me, they second guessin' what we sell\nSo much money on me, fuck it if it's dirty money\n'Cause I earned it, you get murked if you come searchin' for me\nWhen the police pulled me over, I had thirty on me\nWhat the fuck I look like with less than thirty on me, nigga?\nYeah, what the fuck I'm supposed to say?\nPolice pull me over, they ain't got nothing to say\nI told 'em, \"I got tints because I'm rich\", they said, \"Okay\", ayy\nGotta pray a lot, niggas get shot up everyday, ayy\nHeard you got a big body but a little face, ayy\nGot a 41 bezel, it's 100K, ayy\nIf I play the block today, I'll make 100K, ayy\nIf I play the block today, I'll make 100K, yeah\n\nI'll make her say a'\nI'll make her say a'\nI'll make her say a'"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsJust Like Me Lyrics\nSex me, don't caress me\nI'm good, I don't wanna be your bestie\nShe like, \"Wet me like a jet-ski\"\nBeat her to it, I'ma do it if she let me, yeah\nGet flee in a white tee\nTwo hundred on my neck, it get icy, yeah\nYou can't be my wifey, you're just like me\nSex me, don't caress me\nI'm good, I don't wanna be your bestie\nShe like, \"Wet me like a jet-ski\"\nBeat her to it, I'ma do it if she let me, uh\nGet flee in a white tee\nTwo hundred on my neck, it get icy, uh\nYou can't be my wifey, you're just like me\n\nYou're just like me, you're just like me\nNo you can't be my wifey\nBe my nothing, you're just like me\nOoh, yeah\nNo you can't be my bestie, you can't be my wifey\nYou can't be my nothing, you're just like me\n\nTourin' on the top of the world\nBlimp with your name on the top of the world\nPatek Philippe, you can spray it with the syrup\nToo true to the game to be fuckin' the clerk\nPull off, kick rocks, you can hear the Masi' skrrt (Skrrt)\nI seen Rihanna and told her, \"Make it work\" (Work)\nA Boogie was taught to murk off vert (Brrt)\nPablo, politics get left on shirts (Err)\nTest me, we'll be wrestling\nI be coming from the top, big boss thing\nMet an East lil' fine ting\nI be diggin' in her drawers while in Boston\nAnd I told her to call me 'cause\nI heard you was a stalker, I like stalking\nBatter up, shawty bossy\nTake a hit, you gon' end up in the nosebleed\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nSex me, don't caress me\nI'm good, I don't wanna be your bestie\nShe like, \"Wet me like a jet-ski\"\nBeat her to it, I'ma do it if she let me, yeah\nGet flee in a white tee\nTwo hundred on my neck, it get icy, yeah\nYou can't be my wifey, you're just like me\nSex me, don't caress me\nI'm good, I don't wanna be your bestie\nShe like, \"Wet me like a jet-ski\"\nBeat her to it, I'ma do it if she let me, uh\nGet flee in a white tee\nTwo hundred on my neck, it get icy, uh\nYou can't be my wifey, you're just like me\n\nYou're just like me\nDoin' thotty things like it's okay\nWhen you're talkin' to me you say all the right things\nBut if you don't mean it then don't say it\nOoh, Gucci flip-flops with the right fragrance\nOoh, we can switch spots, I am not famous\nBut I got so much fuckin' money, I cannot fake it\nAnd I got so much on my mind, I need a bae-cation\nI got money on my mind, wish I knew how to make it\nShe keep playin' with the dick when she knew how to taste it\nI got acres on my wrist but your neck is amazin'\nAnd I don't wanna do you dirty, you know you my baby\nAnd I would tell you anything 'cause I know you won't say shit\nHalf the niggas that I know is a thief or a gangster\nYeah, I grew up around the block, it get hot and they spray shit\nI know I love you but don't stop me from gettin' this paper\nSex me, don't caress me\nI'm good, I don't wanna be your bestie\nShe like, \"Wet me like a jet-ski\"\nBeat her to it, I'ma do it if she let me, yeah\nGet flee in a white tee\nTwo hundred on my neck, it get icy, yeah\nYou can't be my wifey, you're just like me\nSex me, don't caress me\nI'm good, I don't wanna be your bestie\nShe like, \"Wet me like a jet-ski\"\nBeat her to it, I'ma do it if she let me, uh\nGet flee in a white tee\nTwo hundred on my neck, it get icy, uh\nYou can't be my wifey, you're just like me"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsTemporary Lyrics\nAnd I'm just giving you the real, hmm\nI swear these niggas be so temporary\nBitches be so temporary\nI'm just giving you the real\nYou gotta listen I don't think they hear me\nTurn it up 'cause I don't think they hear me\nLet me tell you how I feel\n\nI heard loyalty is everything and shit\nBut where she at? I swear to God\nI never seen that bitch\nThey say they love me, I promise\nI don't believe that shit\n'Cause they be faking it\nSaying it like they mean that shit\nI hate that, why you want the truth\nIf you can't face that\nI be keeping that shit a thousand\nI give 'em straight facts\nTime is money, money is time\nAnd you can't replace that\nIf everything I tell you is real and how you gon' fake that\nAnd I ain't saying niggas is different\nBut yeah it's different\nAnd a lot of niggas say they official\nReally be bitches\nJust keep a small circle if not\nJust stay independent 'cause niggas is quick\nTo switch up and go missing\nAnd they will never go that hard with you\nNever go that far with you\nHow you gon' let a nigga eat\nAnd he ain't starve with you\nProlly break the law with you\nNever take the charge with you\nWatch you slip up\nThey will never take the fall with you\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nTemporary, bitches be so temporary\nI'm just giving you the real\nYou gotta listen I don't think they hear me\nTurn it up 'cause I don't think they hear me\nLet me tell you how I feel\nI swear these niggas be so temporary\nBitches be so temporary\nI'm just givin' you the real, you gotta listen\nI don't think they hear me\nTurn it up cause I don't think they hear me\nLet me tell you how I feel\n\nSo now I'm walking in the rain\nWith my Timbs on stepping over\nPuddles full of pain\nAll my friends gone, some in jail\nOther niggas changed like a Drake song\nI just feel like nothing was the same\nBut I'm going and I'm scoring\nAnd I'm just making that shit count\nWhen I gave these niggas chances\nThey kept turning that shit down\nYeah they say they fucking with me\nThey just say that shit right now\nBut when I turn around\nThey nowhere to be found\nAnd I ain't with the drama (Drama)\nI ain't with drama\nI know these bitches temporary\nWhen I see 'em I say hi and bye\nI don't need 'em I say hi and bye\nI say \"as-salamu alaykum\"\nThey gon' tell me Walaikum Salaam\nThey gon' tell me Walaikum Salaam\nIt's the same with these niggas\nThat be saying they gon' ride or die\nWhen I know they ain't gon' ride or die\nI fuck around and let that choppa fly\nTemporary, bitches be so temporary\nI'm just giving you the real\nYou gotta listen I don't think they hear me\nTurn it up 'cause I don't think they hear me\nLet me tell you how I feel\nI swear these niggas be so temporary\nBitches be so temporary\nI'm just givin' you the real, you gotta listen\nI don't think they hear me\nTurn it up cause I don't think they hear me\nLet me tell you how I feel\n\nJust because they day one\nThat don't make 'em A1\nReal recognize real, nigga I can't mistake one\nI just keep it pushing when I run into a fake one\nYou know loyalty is everything until my fucking day come\nAin't it crazy how them niggas say they fucking with ya\nGrab a pistol, bust it with ya\nYou go to work, they at ya crib tryna fuck ya sister\nThe ones close to you will do the most you\nIf it's bread on ya head I'll bet\nThey put that toaster to you\nThey look at you and smile though go half\nWith you on a bottle\nSip Hennessy and Moscato, I ain't even gon' lie tho\nThat's word to my nigga Quado\nRest in peace my nigga Quado\nThey call you bro and then leave you in the cold like Chicago\nFirst they hate you, then they love you\nThen they, turn into a snake again\nNo new niggas, I'll never make that mistake again\nThey start off real cool, but once you see that they faking it\nTake a picture nigga, you might never see they face again\nTemporary, bitches be so temporary\nI'm just giving you the real\nYou gotta listen I don't think they hear me\nTurn it up 'cause I don't think they hear me\nLet me tell you how I feel\nI swear these niggas be so temporary\nBitches be so temporary\nI'm just givin' you the real, you gotta listen\nI don't think they hear me\nTurn it up cause I don't think they hear me\nLet me tell you how I feel\n\nLet me tell you how I feel, yeah\nLet me tell you how I feel, yeah\nAnd I'm just giving you the real\nAnd I'm just giving you real\nLet me tell you how I feel, yeah\nLet me tell you how I feel, yeah\nAnd I'm just giving you the real\nAnd I'm just giving you real"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsDemons and Angels Lyrics\nHuh, woke up in a new car\nChopper on my hip, it shoot a movie like a porn star, uh\nI might fuck a porn star, uh\nWoke up in Mercedes, yeah, let's ride up in a foreign car\nI just told Richie we rich\n\nDon't get on my bad side, I'm dangerous\nDemons and angels hang with us\nTreat it like a phone, baby, hang it up, uh\nThrow your side up, go 'head, bang it up\nDon't fuck with me, no, I'm dangerous, uh\nI'm from where they hang 'em, oh\nThrow your side up, go 'head, bang it up\nThrow your side up, go 'head, bang it up\n\nDon't gangbang when this shit get dangerous\nI'm from the West Side, know not to play with us, yeah\nIf you thinkin' that it's sweet, it's not okay with us\nRight now I'm in the A, we got the K with us (Bang)\nAll my chains heavy, and they bright as fuck\nShe only give me head 'cause she don't like to fuck\nSo much Balmain on, I feel like I'm a biker boy\nI been missin' you but you don't call my line no more\nAnd I swear I get all up in my feelings when you're not around, yeah\nI get in my feelings when you're not around, yeah\nI get in my feelings when you're not around me\nI think I'm addicted to this lifestyle, I swear\nI hope you don't just want me for my lifestyle, I swear\nDon't you only fuck me for my lifestyle, I swear\nI've been tryna show you for a long time, I care\nBut you came around just at the right time, I get\nJealous when you try to come around all my friends\nType of shit that make me wanna fuck with your friends\nMake you wanna break the fucking door off my Benz, yeah\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nDon't get on my bad side, I'm dangerous\nDemons and angels hang with us\nTreat it like a phone, baby, hang it up, uh\nThrow your side up, go 'head, bang it up\nDon't fuck with me, no, I'm dangerous, uh\nI'm from where they hang 'em, oh\nThrow your side up, go 'head, bang it up\nThrow your side up, go 'head, bang it up\n\nAyy, you heard of me? (Ayy, heard of me, yeah)\nFuck a Perc-10, need a 30 (I need a 30)\nAnd my FN 'cause they lurking\nAnd a Smith & Wesson's with the broski, no worries\nAll these other niggas bitch niggas, they get disfigured\nBallin', yeah, I swish, nigga, I'ma swish, nigga\nOwn lane, never switch, nigga, never switch, nigga\nTryna fuck the world, they can suck a dick, nigga (Real shit)\nFuck telling stories, I'ma make one\nThis is real life shit, niggas make one\nI don't care about none of y'all\nNeed to go and get your money up (Ya dig?)\n\nDon't get on my bad side, I'm dangerous\nDemons and angels hang with us\nTreat it like a phone, baby, hang it up, uh\nThrow your side up, go 'head, bang it up\nDon't fuck with me, no, I'm dangerous, uh\nI'm from where they hang 'em, oh\nThrow your side up, go 'head, bang it up\nThrow your side up, go 'head, bang it up"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsOdee Lyrics\nYoung Troy, you a genius\nLet me beat it up like Jaegen\n\nYeah, .44 Bulldog\nHit a nigga melon, split a nigga bean\nEverybody sayin' what they gon' do, yeah\nBut they just talkin', they don't mean it\nTry to run down with your deuce-deuce\nThat's a no-no, get a forty, yeah\nYeah, I know I'm probably too much, yeah\nSometimes I just be OD-in'\n\nI was gonna go and try to fall asleep\nBut, I got too much energy, yeah\nI was gonna go to Canada deep, but\nAll my niggas said they got felonies, yeah\nI was gonna pull up in Givenchy, but\nI just bought all this ERD shit\nI'm too flee, all the groupies, yeah\nThey just wanna get next to me, yeah\nEverybody say they run down\n'Til they hear that gun sound on that lemon squeeze, yeah\nBet your homie ain't your homie\nTrust me, paparazzi, that's the police, yeah\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\n.44 Bulldog\nHit a nigga melon, split a nigga bean\nEverybody sayin' what they gon' do, yeah\nBut they just talkin', they don't mean it\nTry to run down with your deuce-deuce\nThat's a no-no, get a forty, yeah\nYeah, I know I'm probably too much, yeah\nSometimes I just be OD-in'\n\nYeah (Yeah)\nYeah, sometimes, I just be OD-in', yeah\n(She like, \"On God,\" and she know Jesus)\nSometimes, I just be OD-in'\n(Girl I hold back for no reason)\nYeah, sometimes, I just be OD-in'\n(Sometimes, I just be O), yeah\nSometimes, I just be OD-in'\n\nAnd sometimes, I just be OD-in'\nBut I'm from Highbridge, what you thinkin'?\nYou can punch in mine if yours is readin'\nAnd you can punch in mine if yours is readin'\nI give you all my time if you give me reasons\nYou only call my line when you think I'm creepin'\nThe thirty clip too long, you can probably see it\nIt's a hip-hop song, but I'm R&B-in', yeah\n.44 Bulldog, yeah\nHit a **** melon, split a **** bean, yeah\nEverybody sayin' what they gon' do, yeah\nBut they just talkin', they don't mean it\nTry to run down with your deuce-deuce, yeah\nThat's a no-no, get a forty, yeah\nYeah, I know I'm probably too much, yeah\nSometimes I just be OD-in'"}
{"text":"72 Contributors4 Min Convo (Favorite Song) Lyrics\nThis don't usually happen like this, though, fuck it\n\nI woke up to like ninety-nine missed calls\nThat's like ninety-nine people I probably pissed off\nLike damn, nigga, I was on a jail call\nDamn, niggas make me hate my cell phone\nLike damn, my nigga, I'm in the studio\nLast time I dropped an album was like a year ago\nYeah, you tellin' me you starving, but I been there though\nLike growin' up, breakfast, lunch and dinner wasn't cereal\nI know what's up\nYou just wanna be all in the videos and smoke it up\nI know you ain't really with the shits but you just throw it up\nPretty bitches in my city litty, they just going up\nNigga, you just wanna be around me 'cause my money up\nHeard them goofy niggas tryna line me, they don't want smoke with us\nHad to pop an Addy, I was down, yeah, had to focus up\nMost my niggas dogs, I hit up bitches that my homies fucked\nI hear too much me in niggas' songs, so I had to switch it up, I had to switch it up\nPick out diamonds in particular 'cause I'm just rich as fuck\nRest in peace to that boy Trayvon, I got my hoodie up\nThey know exactly how we give it up, shoot a bully up\nAnd you bitches know that I cannot waste no time\nBitch, I'm really grindin'\nIf I ever said, \"I love you\", never mind it\nEspecially when I feel like you out here thottin'\nI threaten you, but I fuck with you, let's be honest\nI hide the fact that I love to smoke on exotic\nFlowers, I give you all my hours\nI fuck around, I miss you though, I promise\nBonnie and Clyde issues, guns around us\nNo bozos in my circle, they get cut quick\nWe can't even get around, I got my hoodie on in public\nHouse arrest in Florida, they always checked up on me\nSo when I was in the studio I said I was in Publix\nIf you could walk in my shoes, you could walk on water\nPercocets like NyQuil, got me buying sawed-offs\nSince I been in high school, I been feeling heartless\nI swear I was like you, now look at me ballin'\n10K on one fit, fly like I departed\nStay with that rocket, ooh, I go J. Harden\nCan't tell if I got it, but I stay on it\nAnd they stay frontin', but it ain't nothin'\n'Cause I make money, talkin' big money\nMmh, if I go broke, stay away from me\nMmh, if I go broke, I'ma take money, yeah\nI might go broke in my late hundreds\nIt's hard not to talk money 'cause I got money now\nAnd these chains around my neck over two hundred thou\nAnd Puma just gave me a budget, I should say, \"Fuck it\"\nAnd give it to the schools 'cause they need it more than I need it now\nSwear I paid my dues, I should speak up more though, I'm playin' quiet\nTryna keep it cool like the time I was in the studio with Future and his goons\nSittin' next to my favorite rapper, actin' scared to say it to him\nUsed to bump \"March Madness,\" poppin' Addys because of you\nAfter you and Drizzy dropped, then I got in tune (Yeah)\nDrizzy, that's my broski, I appreciate you too, yeah\nFirst time in the Garden, it was all because of you, yeah\nI probably was OD-in' to do a song but I was new, yeah\nI can't lie, oh, you was like my idol, ask my crew, yeah\nRight when I thought viral was viral, Tekashi blew, yeah\nAnd that's my nigga too, I fuck with you, I swear to God\nType of nigga keep that shit a hundred, cameras off\nAnd I'm the type of nigga you might see in Saint Laurent\nDifferent places, Cleveland, Miami, but I ain't LeBron\nWith different bitches, denims lookin' like they painted on\nListenin' to \"D.T.B\", yeah, that's our favorite song\nI don't trust bitches\nBut you're just like me, that's why I don't trust bitches\nThis your favorite song\nI don't love bitches\nFuck bitches, DTB, no, I don't trust bitches\nThis your favorite song\nWhen you're home, all alone\nReminiscin' my Dior cologne\nNo going back, I really took your soul\nI know, yeah\nWoke up with the chills, oh, oh\nTook a pill with my milk, oh, oh\nLike it's not a big deal, oh, oh\nFree all of my bros, whoa, oh\nFree my nigga PeeWee, free my nigga Skills, now\nMan, you gotta see me, see how I came up now\nUsed to wear the same shit, I ain't lookin' like no bum now\nI'm a New York nigga, hangin' laces off my Uptowns\nGrew up in the jungle where they rumblin' for dust now\nRunnin' 'round the BX, RIP to Big Pun, now\nAnd I don't know why\nI feel like they wanna take my life\nAnd it's all\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nWanna fuck my wife\nAnd these niggas wanna take my life\nAnd it's all\nYeah, it's alright\nAnd it's alright\nYeah, it's alright, mmh"}
{"text":"18 ContributorsWild Thots Lyrics\nYoung OG\nA Boogie, what's up?\nAnother one\nYeah\n\nYou used to be my baby\nRemember when you used to wear my chain and my bracelets\nI know you blushin' when I make a statement\nSo don't you worry 'bout them bitches I don't entertain them\nThey only want me 'cause I'm famous\nI'm A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie but just call me baby\nAnd I be rollin' with the gangstas\nMask on, gloves on like they contagious\nBut what you think about me\nAnything I put on I be lookin' ode\nPull up to a party in a 'Rari 88\nGoin' 200 it was me and E3\nPray when I decided I'ma go my own way\nShe all on my body and she hopin' I stay\nI guess that's what happens when you run into the C.R.E.A.M\nCash rules everything around me (Cash rules everything around me)\nBut even when I'm with a new hoe\nI still end up thinkin' 'bout you\nBecause they just don't know\nThey don't know me like they really want to\nAnd everywhere I go\nWhen I come through all I see is wild thots\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nWild, wild, wild\nWild, wild, wild thots\nWild, wild, wild\nWhen I come through all I see is wild thots\n\nLook, let's keep it real and never fake it (fake it)\nYeah, I'm gettin' money, they can't take it, take it, take it (I know)\nThe vibe is off, I gotta shake it (skrt)\nLook, I'm nothin' like them no one to mistake it\nThe sun is gon' shine even through the shady\nJust 'cause I play it Melo, don't think you can trade me\nYou can't buy class, I bought a new Mercedes\nCame back on them birds, I'm the new Tom Brady\nWow, all I see is wild life when I'm out\nBunch of snakes, couple cats with my life in they mouth\nLion like they gorillas really soft as chinchillas\nDon't sweat the butterfly after you diss the caterpillar\nThat's wild\nWild, wild, wild\nWhen I come through all I see is wild thots\n\nWild, wild, wild\nWild, wild, wild thots\nWild, wild, wild\nWhen I come through all I see is wild thots"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsReply Lyrics\nWoah, if I write (It's JoeFromYO)\nIf I write you, girl, will you reply? (Go Grizz)\nFollow\u2005my\u2005commands, come on,\u2005girl, comply\nYou only want me 'cause\u2005my life's televised\nAnd I can see all them lies in your eyes\nBut I'm no different, selling dreams for tonight\nJust so I could have my way, rubbin' on your thighs\nIn the morning, go back home because I do not have no ties\n\nYeah, but if I (But if I)\nIf I write you, girl, tell me, would you reply? (Would you reply?)\nYou know I used to be a thief up in the night (Yeah, yeah)\nAnd you don't want that type of guy in your life\nBut what if I put on a disguise for the night? (Yeah, yeah)\nWhat if I was to put my life up on the line? (On the line)\nDon't pay no mind to them bitches, like a ticket, you're fine\nGave you a shoulder to lean on for when you cry\n\nUh, cry for me, for me now\nNo one can slow me down\nI stay with forty rounds\nHit her off a Perc', gave her forty rounds\nWoah, I'm far from finished, I'm not done\nI keep grabbing on her waist, she tryna run\nPut my foot into it 'til she numb\nEvery time she moan, she be like, \"Uh\"\nUh, she switched up for the same dollar\nShe don't know the rules of the game 'cause she ain't have no father\nMe and Artist, yeah, we know some of the same scholars\nMe and Artist go home and we got the same problems\nAnd we keep arguing about them same bodies\nThat's because you is my girl, you is my main body\nTake you serious, you know I will not play about it\nAnd if you wanna get better, baby, just pray about it\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI play about it, but don't you go be fake about it\nJust play your part and I won't ever complain about it\nShould have called you beautiful more before you changed your body\nThen you did your body, girl, yeah, you really changed about it\n\nIt's couples out here that's not eatin', we got plain scallops\nAnd clam chowder, you gon' be raising my damn toddler\nAnd I can't lie, baby girl, it ain't no way around you\nAin't nothin' to say about it, got niggas pull up and spray about it\nI'm gone\n\nYeah, and when I say, \"I'm gone\"\nDon't just say it right after me like it's some sing-along shit\nYou got mad when I said you could bring your friend along, yeah\nI'm gon' fuck you to this, make this one your favorite song\nAnd you even look sexy with no makeup on\nAnd you ain't gotta ask me, girl, just take it off\nI knew that you was nasty the way you take it raw\nI just hope that you don't think I'm crazy, girl\n\nIf I\nWoah, if I write\nIf I write you, girl, tell me, would you reply?\nYou know I used to be a thief up in the night\nYou only want me 'cause my life's televised\nBut what if I put on a disguise for the night?\nAnd I can see all the lies in your eyes (Yeah, yeah)\nYou don't want this type of guy, right\nIn the morning, go back home because I do not have no ties (Yeah)\nWoah, if I write\nIf I write you, girl, tell me would you reply?\nYeah, if I write you, can you reply?"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsStalking You Lyrics\nAnd I feel like I'm\nBy accident\n\nI feel like I'm stalking you, I swear\nI keep on watching your snaps, I'm stuck on your Instagram\nAnd girl, I don't even follow you, I can't\nToo busy calling you back, sometimes I don't understand\n\nBut girl, I feel like I walk past you, flexed on you by accident\nI hopped in a Bentley, I don't plan on crashing it\nI told you that I love you baby, I was gassin' it\nGold blunts rolled up, I ain't mashing it\nBefore you was my baby baby you was just a friend\nAnd know that I was just in the streets hustlin'\nThey threw me in the jungle so I started bussin' licks\nI ran into a mic and then I said, \"Fuck the shit\"\nThey call me young Mike, 'bout to get the glove and shit\nTwo diamond rings yea I paid a dub for it\nThrow subs at me bet I don't respond to it\nI'm countin' up money while you niggas commenting\nStuck on your ex and I can get you over it\nVVS on my neck, let's come and see how cold it get\nBefore I sent you that message I was on my thirtieth sip\nI was drinking a Sunkist and then I put the dirty in it\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nAnd I swear, that's why I'm watching your snaps\nI'm stuck on your Instagram\nAnd girl, I don't even follow you, I can't\nToo busy calling you back, sometimes I don't understand\nI feel like I'm stalking you, I swear\nI keep on watching your snaps, I'm stuck on your Instagram\nAnd girl, I don't even follow you, I can't\nToo busy calling you back, sometimes I don't understand\nI feel like I'm\n\nShould pick you up in my spaceship\nYou're way too good for me\nI ran out of shit to say, she ask me questions all day\nI can't keep making up stories\nShe said goodbye and left me in the cold\nIf I can't take it, I'm sorry\nI need good vibes, if not, leave me alone\nI swear I hate to see you walk away\nBut you look so damn good when you walk away\nDo you ever think about stalkin' me\nCause I do just in case you been wondering\n\nAnd I swear, that's why I'm watching your snaps\nI'm stuck on your Instagram\nAnd girl, I don't even follow you, I can't\nToo busy calling you back, sometimes I don't understand\nI feel like I'm stalking you, I swear\nI keep on watching your snaps, I'm stuck on your Instagram\nAnd girl, I don't even follow you, I can't\nToo busy calling you back, sometimes I don't understand\nI feel like I'm"}
{"text":"49 ContributorsBeast Mode Lyrics\nBeast mode (Yeah), go beast mode\nBallin' so hard, yeah, they think I got the cheat code\nHuh, I got the cheat code\nSpent two bands on some mothafuckin' jeans, ho\nThose is Mike Amiri jeans though\nYeah, bad little bitch, and she came from Puerto Rico\nYeah, she a freak ho (Huh)\nYeah, I don't really wanna fall in love with a freak ho\nYeah, she a freak ho\nHuh, ballin' so hard they gon' think I got the cheat code\nThey gon' think I got the cheat code, yeah\n\nI don't gotta do it\nNBA gon' follow up, but, nigga, Rock'll do it\nYeah, but fuck it, I'ma do it\nI got a .40 with a drum and I know how to use it\nIt go, with the beat, I told 'em, \"It's the music\"\nSee the pinky ring when I throw up the W\nI gotta keep a pistol in my Bentley coupe, yeah\nDon't get too comfortable, yeah\nMy Patek too flooded up, yeah\nGot a Rollie but I fucked it up, yeah\nWe don't know about a one on one\nWe don't fuck with them if they don't fuck with us, yeah\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nBeast mode (Yeah), go beast mode\nBallin' so hard, yeah, they think I got the cheat code\nHuh, I got the cheat code\nSpent two bands on some mothafuckin' jeans, ho\nThose is Mike Amiri jeans though\nYeah, bad little bitch, and she came from Puerto Rico\nYeah, she a freak ho (Huh)\nYeah, I don't really wanna fall in love with a freak ho\nYeah, she a freak ho\nHuh, ballin' so hard they gon' think I got the cheat code\nThey gon' think I got the cheat code, yeah\n\nHuh, man, I swear I be so faded\nI almost forgot that I was famous\nLast night I almost popped a nigga\nHe got too close, he had a hoodie on, he wanted a picture\nHe ain't even think that I was about to smoke him like a fucking swisher\nI can't afford it, I got a daughter, you won't catch me slippin'\nYeah, shit been gettin' realer, I been gettin' richer\nWhat I just spent up on my neck could pay a bitch tuition\nAll my diamonds, they be dancin' like they New Edition\nI mix the Louis and Supreme, that's limited edition\nFuck your bitch and now your bitch, she missin'\nYeah, mothafucka I'm in\u2014\nBeast mode (Yeah), go beast mode\nBallin' so hard, yeah, they think I got the cheat code\nHuh, I got the cheat code\nSpent two bands on some mothafuckin' jeans, ho\nThose is Mike Amiri jeans though\nYeah, bad little bitch, and she came from Puerto Rico\nYeah, she a freak ho (Huh)\nYeah, I don't really wanna fall in love with a freak ho\nYeah, she a freak ho\nHuh, ballin' so hard they gon' think I got the cheat code\nThey gon' think I got the cheat code, yeah\n\nFuck her with my jeans on, I fuck her with my chains on\nShe like how I be kicking shit, might think that I'm from Hong Kong\nEverybody turn yo' power off if yo' phone's on\nHoe you gon' get slapped up in yo' shit using the wrong tone\nPnB got all us Milly Rocking with his song on\nA Boogie just walked up in the party with his hoodie on\nYou know me, rollin' off a pill, strapped up with that chrome\nHo, don't walk up smilin' in my face if I can't take you home\nBaby girl, I'm leaning right now on a four\nYou know I'm going hard when it's time for beast mode\nI'm turnt up, I'm out my body, I'm in crunch mode\n.40 Glock up in my pocket, you don't wanna know\nBeast mode (Yeah), go beast mode\nBallin' so hard, yeah, they think I got the cheat code\nHuh, I got the cheat code\nSpent two bands on some mothafuckin' jeans, ho\nThose is Mike Amiri jeans though\nYeah, bad little bitch, and she came from Puerto Rico\nYeah, she a freak ho (Huh)\nYeah, I don't really wanna fall in love with a freak ho\nYeah, she a freak ho\nHuh, ballin' so hard they gon' think I got the cheat code\nThey gon' think I got the cheat code, yeah"}
{"text":"43 ContributorsNo Comparison Lyrics\nNa, na, na, na, na, na, na, na\nNa, na, na, na, na, na, na, na\nI think them niggas is scared of us\nThey flexing but only for cameras\nI embarrass 'em\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you\n\nI think them niggas is scared of us\nFlexing but only for cameras\nNothing these niggas could do to us\nWho the fuck can they compare to us?\nNothing these niggas could say to us\nI let 'em stare if they stare at us\nLook at my chain, I embarrass 'em\nFuck it, it ain't no comparison\n\nThese niggas ain't catching up to us\nI swear these niggas need stamina\nI broke her heart in a paragraph, turned to a thottie to cure it up\nNow that bitch feel so embarrassing\nDiamonds be dancing, I blur it up\nYour shit is fake, you can't swear to it\nI know you fronting, you panicking, I get dressed up like a mannequin\nPut on a fit and embarrass 'em, it's so embarrassing\nI put this beat on my body list\nMetro a beast, yeah, he bodied it, they tried to give me a stylist\nI told 'em I'm good, yo, you wylin'\nI got sick of wearing Versace, I want red bottoms\nDon't let me get in a fight with 'em\nOne of them spikes and I might hit him\nI'm from the jungle, say that you fuck with gorrilas\nI know that you niggas be lying\nI gotta stay humble, that's why I fuck with the realest\nI swear I put that on the Bible\nYou stuck in your feelings, say I'm fucking on your bitch\nAnd you should've never ever wifed her\nThat's word to my mother, if a nigga take my bitch, fuck it\nI'ma find another lover, we flex on each other\nCuban dripping on my wrist, I could put whatever on the other\nThat's word to my mother\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI think them niggas is scared of us\nFlexing but only for cameras\nNothing these niggas could do to us\nWho the fuck can they compare to us\nNothing these niggas could say to us\nI let 'em stare if they stare at us\nLook at my chain I embarrass 'em\nFuck it, it ain't no comparison\nI think them niggas is scared of us\nFlexing but only for cameras\nNothing these niggas could do to us\nWho the fuck can they compare to us\nNothing these niggas could say to us\nI let 'em stare if they stare at us\nLook at my chain I embarrass 'em\nFuck it, it ain't no comparison\n\nYou gotta be kidding me\nMost of my shit come from Italy, W up, make 'em sick of me\nIce on my pinky too glittery\nPass on a show, it ain't shit to me\nI keep a blicky, just in case a nigga with me ain't with me\nAnd I see a enemy, everything litty\nPlus my fingers kinda sticky from rolling up that icky icky\nThem cookies be hitting\nBeam came with the strap, ladder hanging off of that\nYeah I get two attached\nI ain't fucking with the Act', I be tripping off of that\nI'ma keep it a stack\nMike Amiri's on me stretch\nBut I'm holding all this bread, I'ma keep me a bag\nThey was saying I was next\nEver since I hit the booth and I jumped on a track\nI think them niggas is scared of us\nFlexing but only for cameras\nNothing these niggas could do to us\nWho the fuck can they compare to us\nNothing these niggas could say to us\nI let 'em stare if they stare at us\nLook at my chain I embarrass 'em\nFuck it, it ain't no comparison\nI think them niggas is scared of us\nFlexing but only for cameras\nNothing these niggas could do to us\nWho the fuck can they compare to us\nNothing these niggas could say to us\nI let 'em stare if they stare at us\nLook at my chain I embarrass 'em\nFuck it, it ain't no comparison\n\nAin't no comparison\nFuck it, it ain't no comparison\nLook at my chain, it's embarrassin'\nI'm flexing on 'em, embarrassin'\nFlexing on 'em, so embarrassin'\nLook at my chain, it's embarrassin'\nIf Young Metro don't trust, you I'm gon' shoot you"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsLove Drugs and Sex Lyrics\nTell me why the fuck you mad though? (Mad though)\nI ain't that used to getting mad dough (Mad dough)\nI dropped forty pointers on your ass, ho (Ass, ho)\nForty pointers on your ho-ass (Mmh)\nHow was I suppose to know that (Know that)\nMoney make you bitches go bad (Go bad)\nRun it up and never go back (Go back)\nRun it up and never go back (Go back)\nW's up and you know that (Yeah)\n'Member makin' tracks with Kodak\nThen we fell a little off-track\nI'm a street nigga way before rap\nI ain't been the type to name drop\nBut it's some shit that I can't hold back\nI heard a nigga from the same block\nIs telling on me, I expose rats\nLook I don't really want no beef with no niggas\nI don't want no enemies or no niggas\nThe feds is coming, and they sweepin' on niggas\nThey gained like seven, took like three of my niggas\nAin't no static, it's just defense on niggas\nGo black on black, go Hoodie SZN on niggas\nPlaques on plaques, I got thirteen of them, nigga\nOne day I wanna be a king like I'm Jigga\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nBut I ain't ready for no love yet\nAll I ever want is drug sex\nI'm used to being in the projects\nMama saying I was up next\nLearnin' how to fucking rob, yeah\nI didn't even touch a gun yet\nMost the niggas I grew up with\nAre sitting up, or either gone, yeah\n\nGone, yeah\nWhen I'm right, I think I'm wrong, yeah\nThis is just where I belong, yeah\nI'm so used to having fun (Yeah)\nI go straight from the Ave to in the club\nCatch me right in the back\nCameras on me, they be all on my ass\nBut Sal in front of me to cover the gas\nBut don't get too gassed, my life is too fast\nBitches tellin' me to follow them back\nAdderall, at least it's better than Xans\nPop a Perc and fuck for hours again\n'Cause I don't want no fuckin' love sex\nAll I want from you is drug sex\nShit you wouldn't do in public\nYou say you ain't the type to suck dick\nYou never finished, it was perfect\nYour natural titties and your curves, yeah\nI make you feel like it was worth it\nI can buy you all the Birkins\nBut what's next?\nI don't want no fuckin' love sex\nAll I want from you is drug sex\nI don't wanna make you up'\nI don't wanna see you upset\nAll I want from you is drug sex\nBut your love is like a drug, yeah\nI can never get enough\n\nFuck love sex\nCan we have drug sex?\nFuck love sex, can we have drug sex?\nFuck love sex, can we have drug, drug, drug, drug"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsMoney over Everything Lyrics\nIt's money over everything\nI put that on everything\n\nShe held it down when I was down\nThat's why I still fuck with you (Fuck with you)\nI was in love with you\nYou was my ride or die bitch\nBaby, what's up with you?\nI could've been doing my thing from the jump\nBut I gave you my everything and that didn't\nMean anything now I want better things\nFuck it, it's money over everything\nI put that on everything (Everything)\nI put that on everything\nPut that on everything (Everything)\nI put that on everything\nIt's money over everything\nI put that on everything\nI put that on everything, nigga\n\nGive a fuck about no shawty\nIt's just me and all my homies\nWhy the fuck would I be worried\nI spend thirty on my Rollie\nNigga, that's Curry on my Rollie\nKeep a backwood for my dodie\nShe keep acting like she know me\nRun it all spend it all Burberry\nBaby, I'm A Boogie with a BAPE hoodie\nIt ain't shit I let a nigga take from me\nI'ma take it to the fucking grave with me\nThey want to treat me like a slave nigga\nBut I'm going up why they hate, nigga\nCan't see me through these Louis shades, nigga\nI just want to get away\nFirst I got to put a hundred in the safe, nigga\nI ain't tryin' to be no fucking broke boy\nSelling dimes for a dope boy\nI just want to be up on the road doing shows all the bitches yelling \"Oh, boy\"\nGirl fuck you and that ol' boy\nCan't believe you left me for a broke boy\nFuck it, I'm done with this shit\nI'ma marry the money, I need me a Rolls-Royce\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nShe held it down when I was down\nThat's why I still fuck with you (Fuck with you)\nI was in love with you\nYou was my ride or die bitch\nBaby, what's up with you?\nI could've been doing my thing from the jump\nBut I gave you my everything and that didn't\nMean anything now I want better things\nFuck it, it's money over everything\nI put that on everything\nI put that on everything\nPut that on everything\nI put that on everything\nIt's money over everything\nI put that on everything\nI put that on everything, nigga\n\nBefore I tried to fuck you I wish I knew that I would love you\nI would've never told you come through\nYou shot me down so now it's fuck you\nYou took a 38 special well I'ma show you what this TEC do\nYou pulled the trigger cause I let you\nWhen I shoot back I won't miss\nThat's my word I'm through\nI get money I'm cool\nI run it up times two and I break bread with my crew\nI spent 2 on my Loubs\nI can't lose my cool\nLaces hang off my shoe that's how I rock my Loubs\nAnd if you rock with me rock with me I could be honestly popping these bitches in line for me\nI'm rocking Balmain jeans\nThey more than 14 a piece\nIf you seen what I seen you might turn M.O.E\nShe held it down when I was down\nThat's why I still fuck with you\nI was in love with you\nYou was my ride or die bitch\nBaby, what's up with you?\nI could've been doing my thing from the jump\nBut I gave you my everything and that didn't\nMean anything now I want better things\nFuck it, it's money over everything\nI put that on everything (On everything)\nI put that on everything\nPut that on everything (On everything)\nI put that on everything\nIt's money over everything\nI put that on everything\nI put that on everything, nigga (Nigga)"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsStartender Lyrics\nYeah, shawty got ass, she just got a tummy tuck, yeah\nStartenders, run it up, ah\nLet's get into it\nWatch it, bitch\nYeah, ah, haha\n\nMmh, ain\u2019t fuckin' with no off-brand bitch (Yeah)\nOoh, don't think these niggas understand me (Yeah)\nOoh, she let me touch it in Miami (Yeah)\nOoh, I\u2019m feelin' like I'm Biggaveli, uh, ooh, yeah\n\nOoh, I see it in you (You)\nYou just left your man, that's too bad, ooh (Too)\nPull up in a foreign like skrrt skrrt (Coupe)\nAll up in your feelings, yeah you seem so hurt (Yeah)\nEliantte chains, now it's time to run it up\nAnd the gang got a tool, so you know they one of us, yeah\nShawty got ass, she just got a tummy tuck, yeah\nStartenders, run it up\n\nMmh, ain't fuckin' with no off-brand bitch (Yeah)\nOoh, don't think these niggas understand me (Yeah)\nOoh, she let me touch it in Miami (Yeah)\nOoh, I\u2019m feelin\u2019 like I'm Biggaveli\nMmh, ain\u2019t fuckin' with no off-brand bitch (Yeah)\nOoh, don't think these niggas understand me (Yeah)\nOoh, she let me touch it in Miami (Yeah)\nOoh, I'm feelin\u2019 like I'm Biggaveli (Offset)\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nHundred in my fanny, yeah (Hundred)\nRunnin' up the engine for my family, huh (Fam')\nWanna hop on jet, take off your panties, huh (Hoo)\nBaguettes on my wrist and they can't stand me, huh (Baguettes)\nCocoa on my Maybach like it's Freaknik (Smash, smash)\nShoot the hundred round and get your street sweeped (Brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt)\nPatek on my wrist, this shit ain't cheap, cheap (Woo)\nPerky or the Addy, which one you gon' eat?\nIf we got status in the back then meet the Grim Reap' (Static, baddy)\nGreen light the Lambo', with your bitch creepin' (Skrrt)\nHe got the poppin' bodies so I let the TEC eat him (Brrt, who?)\nI put the Nawf up on my back, I get the M's and feed 'em (Hey)\n\nMmh, ain't fuckin' with no off-brand bitch (Yeah)\nOoh, don't think these niggas understand me (Yeah)\nOoh, she let me touch it in Miami (Yeah)\nOoh, I'm feelin' like I'm Biggaveli\nMmh, ain't fuckin' with no off-brand bitch (Yeah)\nOoh, don't think these niggas understand me (Yeah)\nOoh, she let me touch it in Miami (Yeah)\nOoh, I'm feelin' like I'm Biggaveli, uh, ooh, yeah\n\nBitch, I'm number one like I'm Nelly (Nelly)\nAnd my crib all-white like Belly (Belly)\nAnd my bitch ride for me like Remy (Remy)\nPoppin' shots, thug life, Makaveli (Yeah, bah bah)\nSend the cash to my celly, have my nigga go get it\nThen we split it like a splinter, if I'm in it, it ain't rented (Skrrt)\nGot the rims so biggie that my tires look skinny\nGood pussy and you pretty, but you better off the Henny, yeah\nI ain't Ray J, told a bitch, \"Wait a minute,\" damn (Hold up)\nDiamonds on my dick, told the bitch, \"Come and get it\" (Hold up)\nShawty, you a star, got all these niggas wishin' (Yeah)\nShe gotta make it count, hit me up when you finished\nMmh, ain't fuckin' with no off-brand bitch (Yeah)\nOoh, don't think these niggas understand me (Yeah)\nOoh, she let me touch it in Miami (Yeah)\nOoh, I'm feelin' like I'm Biggaveli\nMmh, ain't fuckin' with no off-brand bitch (Yeah)\nOoh, don't think these niggas understand me (Yeah)\nOoh, she let me touch it in Miami (Yeah)\nOoh, I'm feelin' like I'm Biggaveli, uh, ooh, yeah\n\nHead, shoulders, knees, focus\nHead, shoulders, knees, focus, yeah\nHead, yeah, shoulders, yeah, knees, yeah, goin', yeah\nHead and shoulders, yeah, knees, yeah, focus, yeah\nHead, shoulders, knees, focus\nHead, shoulders, knees, focus, yeah\nHead and shoulders and knees, yeah, goin', yeah\nHead and shoulders, yeah, G's get it rollin'\nMmh, ain't fucking with no off-brand bitch (Bang)"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsSkeezers Lyrics\nThe Atomix\n\nI cannot love on no skeezer\nThat is a dub, I don't need her\nI hit her once, then I leave her\nBlow up my phone for no reason\nI cheated on you with a dancer\nOkay, I surrender, my hands up\nAt least I admit it, I man up\nI do not have all the answers\nAnd I gotta stay with the nine these days\nBitches that get niggas lined these days\nAnd I am not with all the drama, ayy\nPop him just for movin\u2019 wocky, ayy\nHighbridge niggas, they be wildin', ayy\nYou sleepin' on me but I\u2019m wide awake\nEliantte bring tsunamis, ayy\nJump inside the water, ride the wave, yeah\n\nUp to no goodie, I put on my hoodie\nGot sick of Margielas, got rid of the Truey\nAnd I'm on a private jet gettin' some pussy\nGivenchy, Givenchy, my luggage is Louis\nDon't wanna stress you, no, baby, I just wanna sex you\nUndress you, don't wanna caress you\nDon't wanna tell you I love you if I do not mean it\nThem niggas will say that to hit you\nI love you, I hate you, I don't want you back now\nGo through some things that you cannot take back now\nI reach out to people who don't reach me back now\nI need you, I need you, it\u2019s too late, I\u2019m mad now\nI spazzed out, they backed out, the mag now, they sat down\nI love my life more than I love my lifestyle\nI love my ice, how it shine even when the lights out\nShe pulled my lights out but I swear, no I\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI cannot love on no skeezer\nThat is a dub, I don't need her\nI hit her once, then I leave her\nBlow up my phone for no reason\nI cheated on you with a dancer\nOkay, I surrender, my hands up\nAt least I admit it, I man up\nI do not have all the answers\nAnd I gotta stay with the nine these days\nBitches that get niggas lined these days\nAnd I am not with all the drama, ayy\nPop him just for movin\u2019 wocky, ayy\nHighbridge niggas, they be wildin', ayy\nYou sleepin' on me but I'm wide awake\nEliantte bring tsunamis, ayy\nJump inside the water, ride the wave\n\nI (I), Like (Like), how (How), you (You), move (Move)\nSame (Same), way (Way), I (I), do (Do)\nFive (Five), thou\u2019 (Thou'), 'sand (On), on shoes (Shoes)\nI (I), might act a fool\nI'm stuck like I'm glued, I like sex in twos\nI spy with my third eye on you, I spy\nYou know I gotta stay ten toes, I ball like LaMelo and Lonzo\nI started off wearin' Kenzo, bitches put me in the friendzone\nShe had my heart it was real cold, I took it back 'cause the bitch stole\nAnd you never know what a bitch knows, I can't be lovin' no ho, oh\nI cannot love on no skeezer\nThat is a dub, I don't need her\nI hit her once, then I leave her\nBlow up my phone for no reason\nI cheated on you with a dancer\nOkay, I surrender, my hands up\nAt least I admit it, I man up\nI do not have all the answers\nAnd I gotta stay with the nine these days\nBitches that get niggas lined these days\nAnd I am not with all the drama, ayy\nPop him just for movin' wocky, ayy\nHighbridge niggas, they be wildin', ayy\nYou sleepin' on me but I'm wide awake\nEliantte bring tsunamis, ayy\nJump inside the water, ride the wave\n\nI (I), Like (Like), how (How), you (You), move (Move)\nSame (Same), way (Way), I (I), do (Do)\nFive (Five), thou' (Thou'), 'sand (On), on shoes (Shoes)\nI (I), might act a fool"}
{"text":"18 ContributorsWrong Nigga Lyrics\nNa na na na na na\nNa na na na na\nNa na na na na na\n\nI just wanna stack dough, count more, I don't know niggas\nYou ain't my bro, you a hoe so you just don't get it\nBitches really tripping, if you looking for a check go get it\nBitch, I'm the wrong nigga\nYou fucking with the wrong nigga\nI'm the wrong nigga\nYou fucking with the wrong nigga\nI'm the wrong wrong nigga\n\nHere's a couple words for you just in case you really don't get it\nI can scoop any bitch I want but I wasn't gon' sweat it\nWrite me every minute wondering if I'm gon' be there already\nI put it in a song cause I couldn't fit it all in one message\nSo I know she gon' get it, I know she gon' get it\nI don't put my time into the bitches they be tripping\nI bet they wish they can all get me\nI make you feel so special, I know this already\nI know I'm fucked up but it's still fucked up how it happened now you gone baby\nI, treated you so wrong baby, now how can we get along baby\nI can't help it I've been selfish I know I was wrong baby\nWhat the fuck was you expecting, I'm moving on now baby\nI did what I did, now I gotta move on cause I feel like you just gone play me\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI just wanna stack dough, count more, I don't know niggas\nYou ain't my bro, you a hoe so you just don't get it\nBitches really tripping, if you looking for a check go get it\nBitch, I'm the wrong nigga\nYou fucking with the wrong nigga\nI'm the wrong nigga\nYou fucking with the wrong nigga\nI'm the wrong wrong nigga\n\nDon't cross the line tryna line me\nDumb nigga lost his mind while he was thinking 'bout it\nI wrote every single song, don't try to copy\nFuck a nigga baby moms for tryna plagiarize me\nMy ex bitch so bad that she ain't around me\nMy ex bitch so mad, made a mistake about me\nI know you probably can't sleep, you couldn't lay without me\nOh it's so so sad that you ain't around me\nCan't believe I really made a whole tape about you\nI made a song just to let you know I think about you\nI don't even drink but everyday I drink about you\nBut, nowadays I don't give a fuck about you\nNow I got a baddie sitting up in my coupe\nMarried to the money motherfucker \"I do\"\nI'm rocking Buscemi even though I like Loubs\nSo you gotta use a key to walk in my shoes\nThey tryna keep up like the fuck do I do\nKeeping it 100 like 50 times 2\nI was the wrong nigga, wrong, wrong\nFucking with the wrong nigga\nWrong, wrong wrong\nWrong nigga, wrong nigga\nWrong nigga, wrong nigga\nWrong nigga wrong nigga, wrong nigga\nI'm the wrong nigga, wrong nigga, wrong nigga\nI'm the wrong nigga"}
{"text":"23 ContributorsMacaroni Lyrics\nNigga don't tell me what you want\nThink you calling shots? I make a call, nigga get you gone\nKnew that was your girl but she a ho and her pussy soak\nSound like macaroni in a bowl when she mix it up\nKnew I was gon' put it in the song\nWe ain't get to fuck\nThink about when you leave her home\nWhere she really at?\nProbably got location on your phone, she know where you at\nA lot of niggas hatin' on the boy\nWhy you really mad?\nIs it 'cause I'm really putting on where my city at\nHighbridge, nigga from the Bronx where it be gritty at\nI be smoking on gorilla glue and smoking GG pack\nThey don't wanna free my nigga Nun but I know he be back\n\nBitches that I hit up in the DM never hit me back\nNow they probably all up in my DM, I don't get to check\nI could turn your girl into a demon, boy, don't get me mad\nFuck around and threw out all my singles when I heard it clap\nSound like macaroni in a bowl how she getting wet\nWhen I met her said she was a fuckin' bartender, yeah\nThen I saw her dancing on a pole, she a stripper, yeah\nMacaroni in a bowl, she be mixing, yeah\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nMy nigga don't tell me what to do\nMel went to school for shooting hoops and then he learned to shoot\nHad to lock myself inside the booth, that's how I kept my cool\nSaw my nigga Quado on the news, that's why I kept my tool\nDon't you try to tell me nothing, nigga, you don't know me\nDone with this bottle, fill me up I need another Ros\u00e9\nGot to hit a couple hittas up when I'm by my lonely\nI think they already know wassup, I don't fuck with phonies\nLately I been running out of time, I need another Rollie\nLately I been on the west-side, don't need no other homies\nDiamonds on my pinky finger blinding, all the bitches on me\nI look at her and tell her call me, hold up matter fact\n\nBitches that I hit up in the DM never hit me back\nNow they probably all up in my DM, I don't get to check\nI could turn your girl into a demon, boy, don't get me mad\nFuck around and threw out all my singles when I heard it clap\nSound like macaroni in a bowl how she getting wet\nWhen I met her said she was a fuckin' bartender, yeah\nThen I saw her dancing on a pole, she a stripper, yeah\nMacaroni in a bowl, she be mixing, yeah\n\nMacaroni in a bowl\nThe way she mix it up\nThe way she mix it in a bowl\nThe way she mix it up\nMacaroni in a...mix it up"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsDTB 4 Life Lyrics\n(It's JoeFromYO)\n(SephGotTheWaves)\n\nYeah, thinkin' 'bout you, I catch chills, my nigga\nShit ain't been the same since\u2005they\u2005killed my nigga\nBroski\u2005doin' time, it get real, my\u2005nigga\nI just hope you hold it down, just don't squeal, my... yeah\n\nI'm DTB for life, no, I can't trust my bitches\nI can't even trust my girl 'cause I'm a fucked up nigga, yeah\nAnd if you say you trust me, girl, you lied\n'Cause I can't even trust myself, I don't know why you waste time in your feelings, yeah\n\nI'm DTB forever, on God, I don't trust bitches\nI don't even trust my girl, I still try to fuck her friends and shit\nThat nigga's movin' while gettin' live\nI don't even wanna talk to nobody, I got a feelin' the feds listenin'\nShe told me I'm not myself no more\nAnd I swear I know exactly who I am\nGirl, just love me for the differences\nShe told me she don't want me around\nHow could you feel that way, baby?\nEspecially after all this time with you\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nNow it's DTB for life, no, I can't trust my bitches\nDon't you trust me neither, I'm a fucked up nigga, yeah\nBut if you gettin' money, that's what's up, my nigga\nBitch, you know I'm smacked, I'm smokin' blunts like cigarettes\n\nLet's be honest, let's be real, my nigga\nIf a nigga play with me, I will get rid of him\nMontana had the grills in his Hilfigers, yeah\nMy niggas Quado and Beasty, I be missin' 'em\n\nBut thinkin' about it, I catch chills, my nigga\nShit ain't been the same since they killed my nigga\nBroski doin' time, it get real, my nigga\nI just hope you hold it down, just don't squeal, my... yeah\n\nI'm DTB for life, no, I can't trust my bitches\nI can't even trust my girl 'cause I'm a fucked up nigga, yeah\nAnd if you say you trust me, girl, you lied\n'Cause I can't even trust myself, I don't know why you waste time in your feelings, yeah\n\nI'm DTB and it's 'cause what she, what she done to me\nSo I was hopin' my baby's eyes would smile just like mine\nThat'd've been crazy, yeah\nWill I regret you? (Will I regret you? Yeah, yeah)\nWill I still put you on my schedule? (Will I still put you on my...?)\nYeah, put you on my itinerary (Put you on my itinerary)\nSaid, \"I ain't gon' lie, it can get scary\" (I ain't gon' lie, yeah, yeah)\nI know you just want me to sweat you\nYou say I changed, you wish I was the same as when I met you\nWell, these hoes who was lyin', oh, they wanna kick it, but it get messy\nYeah, and you ain't never die if you're a legend, yeah\nYou don't even know how I feel, my nigga\nShit ain't been the same since they killed my nigga\nI be tryna tell my bros just chill out\nMy little bro, he be on go, he be on drill time, nigga\n\nI'm DTB for life, no, I can't trust my bitches\nDon't even trust my girl after I tried fuckin' her friend\nAnd if you say you love me, girl, you lied\n'Cause you don't even love yourself, I don't know why you waste time in your feelings, yeah\n\nNo, no"}
{"text":"20 ContributorsIDK Lyrics\nLike why you so fly? (I don't know)\nLike why you so high? (I don't know)\nLike why them niggas staring at you so hard every time you ride by? (I don't know)\nLike why you so thurl? (I don't know)\nWhy you fuck that nigga's girl? (I don't know)\nWhy you smoke all that dope, why you kill all them shows\nEverybody wanna know, everybody wanna know\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nLike how you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nOoh tell me how you do that shit (I don't know)\nThey wanna know how I do that shit\n\nI heard a couple niggas tryna line me\nIt ain't hard to find me\nI got a couple killers right behind me\nAnd if they catch a body, I swear I won't tell nobody\nI got Balmain on my body, diamonds dancing on my body\nMuller cooler than your jeweler, Elliot Avianne\nShe wanna fuck while my song play\nI wanna know why they salty\nI had to get it the hard way\nYeah nigga that's what they all say\nI had to give up on college\nI would've been trapping in hallways\nI'm ballin', you know you can't stop it\nCrossover, get 'em off me\nI ain't got time for this shit, I'm a monster at this, nigga I grind for this shit\nI can't just sleep with a bitch, you gotta watch who you hit, first get the drop on a bitch\nLouis Vuitton on my hip, forty-five on my hip\nPnB Rock with me nigga, you know we be fly as a bitch\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nLike why you so fly? (I don't know)\nLike why you so high? (I don't know)\nLike why them niggas staring at you so hard every time you ride by? (I don't know)\nLike why you so thurl? (I don't know)\nWhy you fuck that nigga's girl? (I don't know)\nWhy you smoke all that dope, why you kill all them shows\nEverybody wanna know, everybody wanna know\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nLike how you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nOoh tell me how you do that shit (I don't know)\nThey wanna know how I do that shit\n\nEverybody wanna know now, everybody wanna know how\nHow a young nigga came up, I'm supposed to be broke now\nComing through looking like I hit a lick\nDare you to try me cause I got that stick\nKilling these haters, I'm making them sick\nI just bought some new Chanel for my bitch\nBands all in my pockets\nI'm taking off like a rocket\nI'm the plug, no socket\nI need all my profits\nI need all my checks\nBitches on me cause they know I'm next\nShe just sent a naked picture through the text\nI don't want the pussy, I just want the neck\nAll I know is flex, diamonds on my neck\nI'm the fuckin' best, nigga what's the bet?\nI just copped a new laser for this TEC\nTreat you like a bitch, pussy you get wet\nCause I ain't got time to be playin' with y'all\nYou from where I'm from then you know that it's hard\nI swear I told y'all that I'm not a star\nIt's still fuck the law and free all of my dogs\nLike why you so fly? (I don't know)\nLike why you so high? (I don't know)\nLike why them niggas staring at you so hard every time you ride by? (I don't know)\nLike why you so thurl? (I don't know)\nWhy you fuck that nigga's girl? (I don't know)\nWhy you smoke all that dope, why you kill all them shows\nEverybody wanna know, everybody wanna know\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nLike how you do that (I don't know)\nHow you do that (I don't know)\nOoh tell me how you do that shit (I don't know)\nThey wanna know how I do that shit"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsBaecation Lyrics\nSo, I took her on a baecation\nShe fell in love with the way I tasted\nI fell in love with the way she take it\nGo down on me girl, I know you wanna taste it\nI took her on a baecation\nWe ain't even really dating\nI spent a long time waiting\nGo down on me girl, I know you want\n\nMy name is Artist, I can draw shit\nShe be all up in my phone, she just wanna start shit\nShe will not leave me alone till I take her shopping\nLouis bag with a stash and her Birkin wallet\nYeah, let's go on a baecation\nBaby, we can go to Vegas and change locations\nDon't you worry bout a hater, they gon' keep hating\nThey sendin' shots, I just dodge like I'm in the Matrix\nUsed to scoop her up in a Uber\nNow we taking flights, spending nights in Aruba\nI hope we can do a lot of things, fuck the rumors\nOn the beach, Henny Coladas in the cooler\nAll the hoes gon' follow, understand that\nIf you end up heart broken I didn't plan that\nI wanna take you so far I don't know where to begin at\nBaby girl at least you know where my head at\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nSo, I took her on a baecation\nShe fell in love with the way I tasted\nI fell in love with the way she take it\nGo down on me girl, I know you wanna taste it\nI took her on a baecation\nWe ain't even really dating\nI spent a long time\nGo down on me girl, I know you want\n\nI could put you on, I won't do you wrong baby\nYou know what you're doing, I just hope you don't play me\nLouis Vuitton don, you know I be going crazy\nGo to San Juan, put you on the front page and\nIf they hate girl, fuck 'em they can stay hating\nYou can whip the Benzi, let 'em watch us racing and\nWhen they hear me on the radio station\nThey gon' wish that they was you but I ain't replacing\nMy bitch so expensive\nShe listen to me but she never listen\nThey tried to push me off my pivot but I'm never tripping\nShe never bitch and love to kick it, Rose sipping\nI fuck with you but girl don't get it twisted\nIt's money over everything so I be getting chicken\nI'm hard to get with so they never gon to catch me slipping\nPut you on a private jet, fuck a plane ticket\nSo, I took her on a baecation\nShe fell in love with the way I tasted\nI fell in love with the way she take it\nGo down on me girl, I know you wanna taste it\nI took her on a baecation\nWe ain't even really dating\nI spent a long time\nGo down on me girl, I know you want"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsAlways On Time Lyrics\nOnly time I'm feeling fine is when I'm with my\nOnly time I'm feeling fine is when I'm with my bitch\n\nWe ride together, we ride together, be honest\nThe only time I'm feeling fine is when I'm with my bitch\nAnd she always on time forever\nThat's why she my ride or die\nShe hate it when I call her my bitch but she mine forever\nAnd whenever the time is, I make time whenever regardless\nShe always on time, my nigga, regardless\nShe always on time, that's why I\n\nWrote you cause I just wanted to see you\nPull up on me, girl, I wanna eat you\nNah, nah I'm playin', don't really need you\nOnce you turn into someone they wanna be you\nI grew up bumpin' Cassidy and Beanie Siegel\nWatchin' crack heads squeeze up on that needle\nI said I'm sorry for makin' you feel I need you\nLove hoes, windows, bitch you see through\nSmokin' endo outdoors with my people\nI don't eat cheese, my nigga, no that's illegal\nI don't like dogs who fuck with you when they need you\nY'all are not low, my nigga, already peeped you\nI do not know you, don't say wassup to me\nWhen I needed it, you didn't show no love to me\nDon't want no company\nFuck you, fuck you, aha!\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nWe ride together, we ride together, be honest\nThe only time I'm feeling fine is when I'm with my bitch\nAnd she always on time forever\nThat's why she my ride or die\nShe hate it when I call her my bitch but she mine forever\nAnd whenever the time is, I make time whenever regardless\nShe always on time, my nigga, regardless\nShe always on time, that's why I\n\nLove her to death, give her nothin' to stress\nFocused on when I'm strokin', she feel it all in her chest, ah!\nPussy so wet, kissin' up on her neck\nWanna scream my name, she keep it under her breath, ah!\nAh! I'm still the same, my nigga\nMy niggas, we still ridin' with the thang, my nigga\nMy niggas, we get that money, never change, my nigga\nMy niggas will never switch up for no fame, my nigga like...\nStackin' to the ceilin'\nAnd when you all alone and you all up in your feelings\nYou can listen to this, thug nigga who just missin' a bitch\nI take your hoe by the flick of the wrist\nAnd she like to call me by my government\nCause it make her feel special\nHit that thing raw just to make her feel special\nSeveral phone calls just to make her feel special\nDo that think I like cause you know I still let you, ah!\nWe ride together, we ride together, be honest\nThe only time I'm feeling fine is when I'm with my bitch\nAnd she always on time forever\nThat's why she my ride or die\nShe hate it when I call her my bitch but she mine forever\nAnd whenever the time is, I make time whenever regardless\nShe always on time, my nigga, regardless\nShe always on time, that's why I\n\nAh! Girl pull up on me\nYou know I wanna know if you could pull up on me\nCan I put it in your spine while you kissin' on me?\nMatter of fact, never mind, that's a different story\nI be playin', girl you know how I play with you\nCan I, pull up to your crib? Girl I just wanna lay with you\nI show you how I live, I don't wanna be fake with you\nCause I know how it feels for someone to be fake with you\nAnd I'm feelin' you, and I know it's killin' you\nYou don't wanna say it, but you feelin' me too\nDon't worry 'bout them niggas and don't worry 'bout them bitches\nBaby we don't gotta tell nobody shit that we do, that we do\nAnd that's just how it's 'posed to be\nYou got your girls with you, I got my woes with me\nAnd I could tell you want me by how you approachin' me\nI will show nobody nothin' that you show with me cause\nWe ride together, we ride together, be honest\nThe only time I'm feelin' fine is when I'm with my bitch\nAnd she always on time forever\nThat's why she my ride or die\nShe hate it when I call her my bitch, but she mine forever\nAnd whenever the time is, I make time whenever\nRegardless, regardless, that's why I...ne Forever\nAnd Whenever The Time Is I Make Time Whenever\nRegardless, Regardless, That's Why I !"}
{"text":"22 ContributorsFucking & Kissing Lyrics\nWould I be trippin'\nIf I tell you I'm different 'cause everyone's different? (Everyone's different)\nBut look, I'm somethin' different\nMelody gifted, you are my witness\nLouboutin Christians, givin' me blisters\nI'm sinnin', but I miss you\nAnd, girl, do you miss me?\nWhat's the difference between fuckin' and kissin'?\nIf you ain't with it, then we can just kick it (Kick it)\nFuck all the kissin'\nWe should just get into switchin' positions (Positions)\nFuckin' and kissin', fuckin' and kissin', girl, fuckin' and kissin'\nGirl, do you miss me? You trippin' 'cause I miss you\n\nFuckin' and kissin', fuckin' and kissin', girl, fuckin' and kissin' (Oh, no)\nFuck me and kiss me like you miss me, I know you miss it (Oh, no)\nFuckin' and kissin', fuckin' and kissin', girl, fuckin' and kissin' (Oh, no)\nFuck me and kiss me like you miss me 'cause I know you miss it (Oh, no)\n\nNext time I fuck you, I don't want you to say, \"I love you\"\nAnd next time you suck it, don't touch it\nDo somethin' that's gon' make me cum quick\nI wanna see how you bust it\nBut if you start buggin'\nI'ma fall back and start actin' like I never met you\nMy money bigger, if I take your bitch\nMan, I don't mean to be disrespectful, I'm just that nigga\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nWould I be trippin'\nIf I DM your friends and fuck all your bitches?\nWould it be ignant?\nYou say I'm trippin', but they the ones with it\nI thought it was love\n'Til you went out tellin' our business\nLyin' when you know you did it\nCryin' but don't see no tears\nI guess we're really all guilty\nFake friends all circle 'round me\nYou wanna show everybody 'round me how I bleed\nPlead, the truth will set you free\n\nFuckin' and kissin', fuckin' and kissin', girl, fuckin' and kissin'\nFuck me and kiss me like you miss me, I know you miss it\nFuckin' and kissin', fuckin' and kissin', girl, fuckin' and kissin'\nFuck me and kiss me like you miss me 'cause I know you miss it"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsRansom Lyrics\nA Boogie wit da Hoodie, damn you be flexing (Flexing)\nThey want you for ransom (Ransom)\n\nIt's a whole lotta ways I can get my cash up\nNigga, you ain't got no backup, you should back up\nAll the hoes say I'm handsome, I got my bands up\nI got bands, now my head up for a ransom\nIt's a whole lotta ways I can get my cash up\nNigga, you ain't got no backup, you should back up\nAll the hoes say I'm handsome, I got my bands up\nI got bands, now my head up for a ransom\nNigga, I ain't put no cash up but it's back up\nI just stay with my head up and my grass cut\nThem snakes got me fed up, I need a handgun\nI got bands now my head up for a ransom\n\nDamn son, what's the issue?\nYoung nigga with a chip tooth and a pistol\nI got into the money, started hitting licks too\nRun through the money, run through the money\nYeah, I like Saint Laurent so I bought a bunch of it, nigga (Bunch of it, nigga)\nI like throwing ones so I threw a bunch of 'em nigga (Bunch of 'em nigga)\nI'm making this song just to keep it 100 nigga\nNow I'm going up, niggas got their hands out nigga\nYou wasn't around now you my mans now\nProbably want to get me clapped now, you a damn clown\nNow you wanna give me dap, now you a fan now\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nIt's a whole lotta ways I can get my cash up\nNigga, you ain't got no backup, you should back up\nAll the hoes say I'm handsome, I got my bands up\nI got bands, now my head up for a ransom\nNigga, I ain't put no cash up but it's back up\nI just stay with my head up and my grass cut\nThem snakes got me fed up, I need a handgun\nI got bands now my head up for a ransom\n\nI fuck it up, thumb through a check, thumb through a check (Thumb)\nMy nigga UE shooting guard dumb with the left\nRJ he a referee, he gon' get the Tec\nI'ma keep scoring from 3, I ain't missing yet\nListen up, if I feel a threat, I'ma hit you up\nGripped it up, chain never tucked, I don't give a fuck (Fuck)\nWhen she suck she gon' lick me up\nAin't no hickeys girl just hit me up\nWhen you wanna fuck, girl just hit me up\nStickied up and I got that drink when I drive by\nStick it up, taking everything when we drive by\nMoving like Christina Aguilera, Lady Gaga\nAnother one, na-na-na-na-na-na\n\nIt's a whole lotta ways I can get my cash up\nNigga, you ain't got no backup, you should back up\nAll the hoes say I'm handsome, I got my bands up\nI got bands, now my head up for a ransom\nNigga, I ain't put no cash up but it's back up\nI just stay with my head up and my grass cut\nThem snakes got me fed up, I need a handgun\nI got bands now my head up for a ransom"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsCinderella Story Lyrics\nIt's a hood nigga story (It's a hood nigga story)\nBut you like Cinderella stories, too (But you like Cinderella stories too)\nAnd, girl, you know I fuck with you (Girl, you know I fuck with you)\nText you in the morning like, \"What's up, ugly?\"\nBut to us that means you're beautiful (To us that means you're beautiful)\nBut you should keep that shit between us two (Keep that shit between us two)\nGirl, I want you, mm (Girl, I want you)\n\nI'm on your body (Your body, ah)\nMy vibe is your body (My vibe is your body)\nThere's something we should talk about, mm (Let's talk about it), yeah\n'Cause I might need you around me ('Cause I might need you around me)\nThey hate on me like I was born rich (I wasn't born rich), yeah\nBut I'm just now gettin' used to ballin' (I'm just now gettin' used to ballin'), yeah\nShe just want Cinderella stories (Stories), yeah\nGlass slippers by Balmain (Glass slippers by Balmain), yeah\n\nShe's nasty (Oh)\nAnd she's nasty just like me (Like me, yeah)\nAnd she's icy (She's icy, oh)\nSpanish mami, call me papi, yeah\nBut she know my lingo, what's up? (She hit me up like, \"Okay\")\nShe said, \"Que lo que\" like, what's up? Yeah\nI said, \"Que tu hace, girl\" what you doing? Yeah\nNo juegas conmigo, yeah\nGirl, don't you play with me like I'm stupid\nI been missing your deep throat, yeah\nCouldn't find a bitch that can do it how you do it, yeah\nCould you set up the threesome? Yeah\nMy 'lil caramel light skin\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI'm on your body (Your body, ah)\nMy vibe is your body (My vibe is your body)\nThere's something we should talk about, mm (Let's talk about it), yeah\n'Cause I might need you around me ('Cause I might need you around me)\nThey hate on me like I was born rich (I wasn't born rich), yeah\nBut I'm just now gettin' used to ballin' (I'm just now gettin' used to ballin'), yeah\nShe just want Cinderella stories (Stories), yeah\nGlass slippers by Balmain (Glass slippers by Balmain), yeah\n\nYour body is my vibe (Is my vibe)\nWhen you come around, I get shy when I see you (See you, yeah)\nWhen I see you (See you)\nGot all my pictures in her mirrors\nStart to blush when somebody says my name\nWon't let nobody even try to spit no game\nNo, they look in her direction, she look the other way\nAnd she like sex on the beach\nShe give me head and my knees so weak, yeah\nAnd I'm still in the streets, yeah\nStill in it and I'm still not with it\nIf I do it, don't you say I did it\n'Round here, you get a headshot for telling, yeah\nBaby, is you gon' be down forever, yeah, uh\nI'm on your body (Your body, ah)\nMy vibe is your body (My vibe is your body)\nThere's something we should talk about, mm (Let's talk about it), yeah\n'Cause I might need you around me ('Cause I might need you around me)\nThey hate on my like I was born rich (I wasn't born rich), yeah\nBut I'm just now gettin' used to ballin' (I'm just now gettin' used to ballin'), yeah\nShe just want Cinderella stories (Stories), yeah\nGlass slippers by Balmain (Glass slippers by Balmain), yeah\n\nShe said, \"Que lo que\" like, what's up? Yeah\nI said, \"Que tu hace, girl\" what you doing? Yeah\nNo juegas conmigo, yeah\nGirl, don't you play with me like I'm stupid"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsBest Friend Lyrics\nBest friend\nYou was like my best friend\nYou was like my best friend\nWe used to be best friends 'til we started sexin'\nWhat's next girl, 'cause it's up to you\nCan we still be best friends after what just happened\nIt's a bad thing, but it feels so good\nLet me beat it up like Jaegen\n\nWe used to be best friends 'til we started sexin'\nWhat's next girl, 'cause it's up to you\nCan we still be best friends after what just happened\nIt's a bad thing, but it feels so good\nYou was like my best friend, you was like my best friend\nYou're my best friend, girl what's up with you\nYou was like my best friend, my best friend\nEven though we're sexin', let's be best friends too\n\nI got rich and cut off all my exes (all my exes)\nThey like, \"Boy grow up,\" I'm adolescent (I'm adolescent)\nFeds pulled up on you askin' questions (askin' questions)\nFuck around and took some of my best friends, yeah yeah\nI'm too fuckin' poppin' for a Westin (a Westin)\nI can't tell nobody where I'm stayin' (where I'm stayin') (yeah)\nI get on my fly shit outta patron (patron) (yeah)\nI smell like the money, it's my fragrance, yeah yeah\nNow I got a house inside my basement, yeah yeah\nUsed to trap in houses that was vacant, yeah yeah\nI poured up a double cup and faced it (faced it)\nIf I said I loved you I was fakin'\nI wasn't into you baby\nBefore I was into you I was a friend to you baby\nI hope I remember you baby\nYou been playin', sorry if I ain't feelin' you lately\nBut you are so beautiful baby\nI'm just sayin', I don't know what to do with you baby\nDon't tell me you through with me baby\nUnderstand I don't want you to be my old lady\nBut I know you want me to stay\nI know you want me to, I know you want to convey\nI know I'm one in a million\nLook at the ceiling, you ever seen stars in the Wraith?\nAnd I can be part of your day\nPardon me, where do you want me to take you today?\nThey want to take me away, fuck what they say, it's okay\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nWe used to be best friends 'til we started sexin'\nWhat's next girl, 'cause it's up to you\nCan we still be best friends after what just happened\nIt's a bad thing, but it feels so good\nYou was like my best friend, you was like my best friend\nYou're my best friend, girl what's up with you\nYou was like my best friend, my best friend\nEven though we're sexin', let's be best friends too\n\nWhile we on the topic, let's talk about it\nYou gon' find somebody better, yeah shawty I doubt it\nYou knew I was ballin', you was tryna scout it\nYou just played the sideline, I was tryna out it\nPulled up in the Audi, I did it proudly\nPut them diamonds in my mouthpiece, smokin' loudly\nAt this moment she realized she couldn't live without me\nTold her, \"Hop up in the sky before this shit get cloudy\"\nDon't you doubt me, 'cause I be spendin' dividends\nI been out and switchin' into them different Benzes\nGot my dollars up and dipped and onto ya friendses\nRollie on me, presidential like the president, bitch\nOnly you know I won't try you, why would I try to?\nEvery city that I fly through, I try to fly you\nWhen you look just like the pictures I just can't deny you\nNow let me beat that pussy red like it was bangin' Piru\nGirl you know I wanna dine you, I'ma line you\nFuck around and make me wanna put you in a spiral, hit your spinal\nTouchin' you like I was tryna spin a vinyl\nI just slip and slide through, sicker than some swine flu\nYeah, come do it all for me, 'cause I do it all for you\nWhenever I need it I'm fallin' through\nWhen I need to get it I'm callin' you\nYou know you got it\nAll of the numerous rumors are probably true\nSomething I'd probably do, I gotta be honest with you\nBest friends\nWhat's next girl, 'cause it's up to you\nBest friends after what just happened\nYou was like my best friend\nMy best friend, girl what's up with you\nMy best friend, even though we're sexin', let's be best friends too"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsUnhappy Lyrics\nTold her I can't fall in love now she, damn\nShe upset, she throwing subs at me\n\nShe used to call me her daddy\nTold her I can't fall in love now she, damn\nShe upset, she throwing subs at me\nShe just wanna see me unhappy\nShe used to say, \"what's up, daddy\"\nNow she walk past me with a mug, she keep calling me a dub\nPlus she won't stop throwing subs at me\nShe just wanna see me unhappy\n\nBut instead I'm in a Lamborghini (Skrrt)\nWith a tint, my windows tinted like I care who see me\nIf I tell you all my secrets, it won't be a secret\nBut if I tell you a secret, I hope that you can keep it\nMike Amiri denims, couldn't fit the fucking ratchet\nI'm with a shooter, sorry, if he gotta fucking bag niggas\nStarted calling me the GOAT, I came up from the grass, nigga\nI got water on my wrist, I told her look at that river\nI wanna act like I don't know you now\nMy niggas told me I should expose you now\nBut she used to hold it down\nJust hold it down, just hold it down\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nShe used to call me her daddy\nTold her I can't fall in love now she, damn\nShe upset, she throwing subs at me\nShe just wanna see me unhappy\nShe used to say, \"what's up, daddy\"\nNow she walk past me with a mug, she keep calling me a dub\nPlus she won't stop throwing subs at me\nShe just wanna see me unhappy\n\nShe wanna be my baby, but she can't take it, ah\nI only wear this chain for special occasions\nI be talking too much money, that's a different language\nAnd I started losing friends when I got famous\nIf it don't make a dollar, then it don't make sense, amen\nI be stuffing hundreds in Melody piggy bank\nI'm that nigga, yeah, I wish a nigga would these days\nI got rich but I still go back to the hood these days\nAnd honestly\nI be tryna stop thinking about you but even when I do\nI be reminiscing bad things I did\nAnd I know you hate me, you hate me\n\nShe used to call me her daddy\nTold her I can't fall in love now she, damn\nShe upset, she throwing subs at me\nShe just wanna see me unhappy\nShe used to say, \"what's up, daddy\"\nNow she walk past me with a mug, she keep calling me a dub\nPlus she won't stop throwing subs at me\nShe just wanna see me unhappy"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsMood Swings Lyrics\nWheezy outta here\nBeast, beast\n\nI'm a beast\nOh my God, mood swings\nOut of line, mood swings\nOut of\u2005time\nI\u2005was broke, I\u2005don't cry\nI'm the G.O.A.T., I'm a\u2005God\n\nI'm a beast, I'm a Goblin, nigga, let that shit fly\nNigga, you don't want no problem\nI be feelin' like Batman, my niggas always robbin'\nI just got caught fuckin' my best friend, we wylin', yeah\nShe was my bestie, mm, never knew she was so nasty, mm, yeah\nAnd she so sexy, mm, kissin' on bitches like lesbians, yeah\nAss so fat, oh, bouncin' up and down like a basketball, yeah\nNiggas wanna test me, snipe a nigga, treat him like Wesley, yeah\n\nBitch, I go, big .44, yeah, I know they don't want no smoke\nBig face watch, big bank rolls\nBig ass bag with the big Lambo'\nBitch, I'm bad, young Mike, I'm a G.O.A.T.\nMike Amiri pants too tight for the pole\nMe and my bestie fucked on the low\nCan you still trust me? I don't know\nNo, I don't know, outta' time\nI'm so caught out of line\nAderall analyze\nLost my bro, lost my mind\nWant my soul, niggas want my life\nTryna' take my hoes, tryna fuck my wife\nMood swings, sometimes I need two at a time\nFuckin' two sets of twins, and one of them shy\nFuck two sets of 10s like a couple of dimes\nFuck two sets of twins like a couple of times\nFuck few sets of twins like a couple of times\nPercocets, two times\nPercocets, never knew when to come\nPercocets, two time\nPercocets, never knew when to come\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI'm a beast\nOh my God, mood swings\nOut of line, mood swings\nOut of time\nI was broke, I don't cry\nI'm a G.O.A.T., I'm a God\n\nI'm a beast, I'm a Goblin, nigga, let that shit fly\nNigga, you don't want no problem\nI be feelin' like Batman, my niggas always robbin'\nI just got caught fuckin' my best friend, we wylin', yeah\nShe was my bestie, mm, never know she was so nasty, mm, yeah\nAnd she so sexy, mm, kissin' on bitches like lesbians, yeah\nAss so fat, oh, bouncin' up and down like a basketball, yeah\nNiggas wanna test me, snipe a nigga, treat him like Wesley, yeah"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsGet to You Lyrics\nMetro Boomin' make it boom\nYeah, Metro Boomin' make it boom, make it boom\n\nDon't be telling me you're through\n'Cause I be thinking, that it's true, that it's true\nTelling me about your new boo\nWhen I don't wanna face the truth, if it's true\nI just wanna get to you\nAnything to get to you, get to you\nI just wanna get to you\nAnything to get to you, get to you\n\nI always had you in some new Loubs\nNever let you complain about your shoes, 'bout your shoes\nWhen nobody would listen to me\nI know, that I can talk to you, talk to you\n'Cause everybody else is clueless, no excuses\nKeep on saying they gon' do shit, never do shit\nShe keep saying she gon' use me, I'ma use her\nI got on so many jewels, I feel like a jeweler\nI pulled up in a Patek, you pulled up in a Muller\nDouble wedding band ring, she pulled up in a new fur\nMetro Boomin' on the beat, I feel like I'm cheating\nShowing me that nipple ring, I feel like you teasing\nYou keep begging me to eat, girl, why you beasting?\nCan I take you to my suite? Yeah, for a weekend\nCan you come and give me brain? Make me a genius\nI could make that bussy beatbox, while I'm singing\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nBut when you tell me you're through\nI start to think, that shit is true, is it true?\nTelling me about your new boo\nWhen I don't wanna face the truth, if it's true\nI just wanna get to you\nAnything to get to you, get to you\nI just wanna get to you\nAnything to get to you, get to you\nI just wanna get to...\n\nI need to care to you, carefully, carefully\nI'm moving carefully, iggin' me, iggin' me\nIt don't make sense to me, send for me, send for me\nNeed you to win for me, care for me, care for me\nAnd if you care, make time for me, make time for me\nAnd when you lie to me, it just be killing me\nYou're acting differently, I need to get to you\nI need you there for me, I need to get to you\nI need to get to you, carefully, carefully\nI'm moving carefully, iggin' me, iggin' me\nIt don't make sense to me, sin for me, sin for me\nNeed you to win for me, care for me, care for me\nAnd if you care, make time for me, make time for me\nAnd when you lie to me it just be killing me\nYou're acting differently, I need to care to you\nI need you there for me\nIf Young Metro don't trust you, I'm gon' shoot you"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsArtist Lyrics\nI promised you would've liked it\nIf I was invited\n\nShe said she wanna be mine\nShe wasn't with it to ride\nI had to kick her aside\nI know it just ain't right\nBut baby you was invited\nI promised you would've liked it\nShe know I be on my grind\nSo I don't really have time\nTo hit you back on time\nI would've been in your life\nBut I just wasn't invited\nI think that I would've liked it\n\nI was excited, I thought you was mine\nYou were really wastin' my time\nBut damn I can't lie\nShe ride the pipe like she bike it\nYou was the rock to my diamond\nThe way we could've been shining\nWe would've been fine\nBut girl you had to decide\nI thought that you was my type\nI wish that I could rewind it\nBut I guess I'll never mind it\nTell me what you want\nTell me why you frontin'?\nIs this really what you wanted?\nKeep it a hunnit\nEvery time you started fussin'\nI changed the subject\nEvery time you hear this song is gon' get you upset\nYou gon' hear it in they headphones on the buses\nIf I see you up in public straight stuntin'\nCop another pair of Mains then I go to London\nWould've put you on a plane in some Red Bottoms\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nShe said she wanna be mine\nShe wasn't with it to ride\nI had to kick her aside\nI know it just ain't right\nBut baby you was invited\nI promised you would've liked it\nShe know I be on my grind\nSo I don't really have time\nTo hit you back on time\nI would've been in your life\nBut I just wasn't invited\nI think that I would've liked it\n\nYou was a slide\nI don't think I can look at you in ya eyes\nYou cheated on me and lied\nAnd I think you liked it\nYou're so damn trifling\nYou was a thot and I wifed it\nThere's no one like this\nLook at my ice you could've been right beside it\nI'm still thug lifin' with no gun license\nYou my lil' light skin\nCause I know she gon' hide it\nYou pro'lly think I'm bluffin'\nI ain't frontin' I turn nothing into something\nNow I'm stuntin it's just us I won't switch up yeah\nI love my Bousins others talk behind my back\nSo I can't trust them\nOh I think I started something now they upset\nEverybody I came up with I'm still stuck with\nEvery girl that I was with I had no luck with\nNow all I ever wanna do is boss shit\nShe said she wanna be mine\nShe wasn't with it to ride\nI had to kick her aside\nI know it just ain't right\nBut baby you was invited\nI promised you would've liked it\nShe know I be on my grind\nSo I don't really have time\nTo hit you back on time\nI would've been in your life\nBut I just wasn't invited\nI think that I would've liked it\n\nWhy you think my name is Artist? I'm an Artist"}
{"text":"41 Contributors24 Hours Lyrics\nHow you gon' treat me like I'm see-through?\nSeven days a week, I wanna\u2014\nBaby, when I see you, I'ma\u2014\n\nThese bitches always want somethin' from me, it's way different every time it's me and you\nYou loved me when I was bummy, now I got money, baby, let me freeze you\nI said, get your pretty ass right here 'cause I miss you\nGet up in your bag, ass fat, Gucci swimsuit\nKnow you got it bad when you're stuck in the house and you keep on thinkin' how these other niggas did you\nYou don't even wanna call my line, turned sherm 'caus\u0435 you said I wanna fuck all day\nSaint Laurent on, but I'm a Louis-wearin'-ass nigga, burned Tru\u0435 Religions, been slumped Balmains\nSingin' nigga but I will get you rolled on\nDon't make my niggas feel a way, ain't hurt no one in so long\nThey wanna off me\nBut I got so much money, if I react, they'll say I'm so wrong\n\nYou loved me when I was bummy, now I got money, baby, slide by\n\nDon't you play with me, I wanna see you\nHow you gon' treat me like I'm see-through? (See-through)\nFive hundred thousand dollar cars when I pleased you (Five hundred thousand dollars, baby)\nTwenty-four hours, baby, twelve times two (Twenty-four hours, baby)\nSeven days a week, I wanna see you (Seven days a week, I wanna)\nHow you gon' treat me like I'm see-through? (Baby, when I see you, I'ma)\nFive hundred thousand dollar cars when I pleased you (Five hundred thousand dollars)\nTwenty-four hours, baby, twelve times two (Twenty-four hours)\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nI be tellin' you all the things I wanna do to you\nKissin' on the inside of your thighs, got you swimming pool\nLickin' every hole on your body, got you shakin' too\nLike when you in control of the bed, look what you make me do\nKiss me, lick me, hug me, fuck me, while I\nGet the Maybach truck, she said, \"It's ugly, but I'll try\"\nTell you I love you before I take off, ain't no Wi-Fi\nSoon as I land, I check my texts, send a reply\nThe trenches, I love you, ain't got no bitches\nLet's get it, got a real nigga in they feelings\nI'm healin', I just wanna see you, I ain't really with the distance\nWanna lick between all your toes, not to mention\nI seen her with her wig off, she comfortable\nI never cared about your past, who was fuckin' you\nAnd I know that shit forever when I'm touchin' you\nPut my daughter in your stomach at the W\n\nI wanna see you\nHow you gon' treat me like I'm see-through?\nFive hundred thousand dollar cars when I pleased you (Five hundred thousand dollars, baby)\nTwenty-four hours, baby, twelve times two (Twenty-four hours, baby)\nSeven days a week, I wanna see you (Seven days a week, I wanna see you)\nHow you gon' treat me like I'm see-through? (Baby, when I see you, I'ma)\nFive hundred thousand dollar cars when I pleased you (Five hundred thousand dollars)\nTwenty-four hours, baby, twelve times two (Twenty-four hours, baby)\nSeven days a week, I wanna\u2014 (Seven days a week, I wanna\u2014)\nMmm-mmm-mmm\nYou loved me when I was bummy, now I got money, baby, what's up?\n\nI just want you to know\nYou don't even wanna call me \"Artist\" no more\nThat type of bitch that can't nobody afford\nGettin' money that type of time she be on\nWhat's up?\nYou know I'm ballin', but I miss her"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsFuck Love Lyrics\nFuck love\nNigga what's love?\nFuck love\nMy nigga (Na Na na Na nah)\n\nShe let me come to her room I decorated her walls\nI had to go to the store I wasn't fucking her raw\nI'm looking at her face and she had a frown on it\nBefore I made it to the door she went down on it\nDo your damn thing, you know you deserve it\nI mean, after all think it was worth it\nThrow that ass round in a circle like a circus\nYou clowned on me on purpose\nNow I'm drinking codeine thinking old things\nFeeling like a biker all I rock is Balmains\nWe Used to fuck all night til' the morning\nYou ain't have to worry about them other bitches on me\nOn some G shit, you lied in my fucking eyes\nThat was weak shit\nI feel like young LL on the remix\nYou took my heart, I let you keep it\nNow everything we beenthrough\nIt don't mean shit\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nYou really got me fucked up\nJacking fuck love\nFuck love\nNigga, what's love?\nJacking fuck love\n(Na na Na nah nah Na)\n\nI'm like damn, this is the way I am\nI do it all just to feed my fam'\nFinally made a clean song they didn't think I can\nCuz' the radio won't even play my jam\nIt's like damn, this is the way I am\nFuck love, that's the way I am\n1K for a verse, next year 5 bands\nNow none of these rappers wanna shake my hand\nIt's like damn homie\nI thought you would understand homie\nFuck happened to you\nI got a buzz now I owe you favors\nOnce they see you getting paper\nThey turn to haters (Ah)\nI told you to keep your eyes open\nYou left me there, you left me wide open\nI ain't playing, nigga I'm not joking (Ah)\nYou really got me fucked up\nI'm jacking fuck love\nFuck love\nNigga, what's love?\nI'm jacking fuck love"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsBleed Lyrics\nI don't need love, that shit is so, so petty\nDon't you go tweet about it,\u2005we\u2005could speak about\u2005it if you really, really with\u2005me\nGrowing up bein' in the gas stations, in the CVSs\u205fgettin'\u205fgifties,\u205fyeah\nAnd if you\u205freally my nigga\nWord\u205fto mother, we gon' split it fifty-fifty, yeah\nThey call me a SoundCloud boy\nThey stealin' my sound now, boy\nI feel like I'm really the king in my city\nI got the crown now, boy\nTwo .38s on the side of me, lookin' like a cowboy, yeah\nNiggas be actin' like bitches, I might as well just call you tomboys\nDon't play with me, .38 on me and I'm feelin' so, so special\nNiggas is lucky I'm busy gettin' money 'cause I really could've left you\nPull up in my hoodie on the scene, so, so scary\nI probably got more Mike Amiri jeans than Mike Amiri\nYeah, beasty, used to lurk in the bushes\nNow when I open my eyes I look in the sky, hopin' I make it to Heaven\nYou can have family ties, all rats gotta die\nYou can still be a dub if you tellin'\nAnd even if it was my cousin, it is a dub\nFuck it, just knock off his melon\n\nI swear I don't need love, that shit is so, so petty\nDon't you go tweet about it, we could speak about it if you really, really with me\nPull up in my hoodie on the scene, so, so scary\nProbably got more Mike Amiri jeans than Mike Amiri\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nHeard they wanna catch me lackin', oh, please\nYeah, they don't know I'm really odee\nNiggas rattin', eatin' on cheese\nJust free the real until they all free\nHoodie on, rockin' long sleeves, uh, uh\nRichard Mille make my wrist bleed, mmm, mmm\nLamborghini car keys, vroom, vroom\nI don't know why they actin' like they G'd up, hmm, mmm\nWipe a nigga nose like he sneezin', hmm, mmm\nGo to Elliot for Aquafina, huh, uh\nChain lookin' like a hockey puck, hmm, like a freezer, hmm\nYou told me never say never\nThen you told me you would never get me set up (Yeah)\nBut love is a set-up already\nShould have said \u201cI love you\" to a Bentley (Mmm)\nI know niggas that ain't even graduate can't leave the country, they felons already\nBut fuck it, at least they know better\nAny nigga could tell ain't no tellin'\nI done seen niggas tell on they brother, them niggas was there for you when you were strugglin'\nI done seen niggas love on they bitch and go kiss her and hug her right after she suckin' dick\nAnd you gotta watch out for niggas that's watchin' your money, watch who you get money with\nAnd don't you compete with your own gang, no, don't you go be on no funny shit\n'Cause niggas will tell on they whole gang 'cause they was jealous, so jealous, yeah\nI was addicted to Balmain, I did every Amiri denim (Yeah)\nI'm not a regular person, I threw away all my Margielas (Yeah)\nGot a closet with nothing but fly shit, trendsetter from my hat to my sweater, yeah, yeah\nI swear I don't need love, that shit is so, so petty\nDon't you go tweet about it, we could speak about it if you really, really with me\nPull up in my hoodie on the scene, so, so scary\nProbably got more Mike Amiri jeans than Mike Amiri\n\nHoodie on, rockin' long sleeves, uh, uh\nRichard Mille make my wrist bleed, uh, uh\nLamborghini car keys, vroom vroom"}
{"text":"29 Contributors1Hunnit Lyrics\nOne hundred, keep it one hundred\nI just hope you don't switch up on me\nI love it when you keep it one hunnit\n\nRun it up, run it up on 'em\nGirl, we could run it up on 'em\nI just hope you don't switch up on me\nI love it when you keep it one hunnit\nOne hundred, one hundred, keep it one hundred\nOne hundred, one hundred, keep it one hundred\nRun it up, run it up on 'em\nGirl, we could run it up on 'em\nI just hope you don't switch up on me\nI love it when you keep it one hunnit\nOne hunnit, one hunnit keep it one hunnit\nOne hunnit, one hunnit keep it one hunnit\n\nNever really wanted to talk about it\nFuck it though, I'm 'bout to talk about it\nSomething told me write a song about it\nWe probably ain't gonna get along about it\nI froze up when I seen you with him\nThat shit made me want to leave you with him\nI never even cheated, God damn, girl, I should've cheated\nAnd I ain't fucking with these bitches, these bitches be eating\nAnd I don't want to be a player, you gave me a reason\nFucked some bitch the other day, I wanted to get even\nWhy are we even doing this, let's just call it even\nAm I tripping for thinking you was the one I needed?\nYou was all that I wanted you was my everything and\nYou would come home to me, I eat it up like Reese's\nYou was my peanut butter, you know I love my Reese's\nSee A Boogie wit da Hoodie LiveGet tickets as low as $81You might also like\nRun it up, run it up on 'em\nGirl we could run it up on 'em\nI just hope you don't switch up on me\nI love it when you keep it one hunnit\nOne hunnit, one hunnit keep it one hunnit\nOne hunnit, one hunnit keep it one hunnit\n\nDon't you lie to me, girl be honest\nIf I wasn't wearing all this designer and fly shit\nTell me would you still ride like Jamaicans grinding?\nAnd when I cop my first Bimmer, bet you wanna drive it\nNigga, fuck it, I'ma make it and go into college\nThink she fucking cause the name of the label is Highbridge\nIf they wanna know the price of this motherfucking diamond\nFuck it, we could talk about it with bro Avianne\nAnd my flow so cold so I wear a Moncler\nIf you ratting you a dub, and you don't belong here\nMy bitch got a fat butt, Brazilian, long hair\nGoddamn, we been rocking Balmain all year\nIf you rocking with me, you rocking Balmain too\nA Boogie wit da Hoodie and the Balmain crew\nFifty karats on your ring if you want me too\nI just hope you don't switch up, this is all we do\nRun it up, run it up on 'em\nGirl, we could run it up on 'em\nI just hope you don't switch up on me\nI love it when you keep it one hundred\nOne hundred, one hundrd, keep it one hundred\nOne hundred, one hundred, keep it one hundred\n\nBought my new bitch a Chanel bag and she went and told her friends about it\nI cut my old bitch off, she so mad and I know she still think about me\nNo new niggas always so mad circle shining like a ring with diamonds\nI keep some gangsta niggas with me know that if you even try to think about it\nIf they catch a body, I swear I will never speak about it\nBring me my bottle, all I wanna do is drink about it\nI could sleep about it\nThis ain't even an automatic, my nigga three come out it\nSame damn time, that's a drilla, read about it"}
{"text":"\nUh-uh-uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh\nUh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh\nUh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh\nUh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh\nUh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh\nUh, uh-uh, uh-uh, uh-uh\n\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\n\nHoney, check it out, you got me mesmerized\nWith your black hair and your fat-ass thighs\nStreet poetry is my everyday\nBut yo, I gotta stop when you trot my way\nIf I was workin' at the club, you would not pay\nA-yo, my man Phife Diggy, he got somethin' to say\nYou might also like\nI like 'em brown, yellow, Puerto Rican or Haitian (Uhh)\nName is Phife Dawg from the Zulu Nation\nTold you in the jam that We Can Get Down\nNow let's knock the boots like the group H-Town\nYou got BBD all on your bedroom wall\nBut I'm above the rim, and this is how I ball\nA gritty little somethin' on the New York street\nThis is how I represent over this here beat\nTalkin' 'bout you... Yo, I took you out\nBut sex was on my mind for the whole damn route\nMy mind was in a frenzy and a horny state\nBut I couldn't drop dimes 'cause you couldn't relate\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down (You couldn't relate)\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down (You couldn't relate)\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\n\nStretch out your legs, let me make you bawl\nDrive you insane, drive you up the wall\nStarin' at your dome-piece, very strong\nStronger than pride, stronger than Teflon\nTake you on the Ave. and you buy me links\nNow I wanna pound the poontang until it stinks\nYou can be my mama and I'll be your boy\nOriginal rude boy, never am I coy\nYou can be a shorty in my ill convoy\nNot to come across as a thug or a hood (What?)\nBut hun, you got the goods, like Madelyne Woods\nBy the way, my name's Malik, the Five-Foot Freak\nLet's say we get together by the end of the week?\nShe simply said, \"No\", labelled me a hoe\nI said, \"How you figure?\" \u2014 \"My friends told me so\"\nI hate when silly groupies wanna run they yap\nWord to God, hun, I don't get down like that\n\nI'll have you weak in the knees that you could hardly speak\nOr we could do like Uncle L and swing an ep. in my Jeep\nKeep it on the down, yo, we keep it discreet\nSee, I'm not the type of kid to have my biz in the streets\nIf my mom don't approve, then I'll just elope\nLet me save the little man from inside the boat\nLet me hit it from the back, girl, I won't catch a hernia\nBust off on your couch, now you got Seaman's Furniture\nShaheed, Phife and the Extra P\nStacy Beadle, PJ and my man LG\nThey know the Abstract is really soul on ice\nThe character is of men, never ever of mice\nShorty, let me tell you 'bout my only vice\nIt has to do with lots of lovin', and it ain't nothin' nice\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down (It ain't nothin' nice)\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down (It ain't nothin' nice)\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down\nRelax yourself, girl, please settle down"}
{"text":"We don't believe you 'cause we the people\nAre still here in the rear, ayo, we don't need you\nYou in the killing-off-good-young-nigga mood\nWhen we get hungry we eat the same fucking food\nThe ramen noodle\nYour simple voodoo is so maniacal, we're liable to pull a juju\nThe irony is that this bad bitch in my lap\nShe don't love me, she make money, she don't study that\nShe gon' give it to me, ain't gon' tell me run it back\nShe gon' take the brain to wetter plains, she spit on that\nThe doors have signs with, don't try to rhyme with\nVH1 has a show that you can waste your time with\nGuilty pleasures take the edge off reality\nAnd for a salary I'd probably do that shit sporadically\nThe OG Gucci boots are smitten with iguanas\nThe IRS piranha see a nigga gettin' commas\nNiggas in the hood living in a fishbowl\nGentrify here, now it's not a shit hole\nTrendsetter, I know, my shit's cold\nAin't settling because I ain't so bold but ay\n\nAll you Black folks, you must go\nAll you Mexicans, you must go\nAnd all you poor folks, you must go\nMuslims and gays, boy, we hate your ways\nSo all you bad folks, you must go\nYou might also like\nThe fog and the smog of news media that logs\nFalse narratives of Gods that came up against the odds\nWe're not just nigga rappers with the bars\nIt's kismet that we're cosmic with the stars\n\nYou bastards overlooking street art\nBetter yet, street smarts but you keep us off the charts\nSo motherfuck your numbers and your statisticians\nFuck y'all know about true competition?\nThat's like a AL pitcher on deck talking about he hittin'\nThe only one who's hitting are the ones that's currently spittin'\nWe got your missy smitten rubbing on her little kitten\nDreaming of a world that's equal for women with no division\nBoy, I tell you that's vision\nLike Tony Romo when he hitting Witten\nThe Tribe be the best in they division\nShaheed Muhammad cut it with precision\nWho can come back years later, still hit the shot?\nStill them tryna move we off the fucking block\nBabylon, bloodclaat\nTwo pon yuh headtop\n\nAll you Black folks, you must go\nAll you Mexicans, you must go\nAnd all you poor folks, you must go\nMuslims and gays, boy, we hate your ways\nSo all you bad folks, you must go"}
{"text":"Here we go, yo, here we go, yo\nSo what, so what, so what's the scenario?\nHere we go, yo, here we go, yo\nSo what, so what, so what's the scenario?\n\nAyo, Bo knows this (What?) And Bo knows that (What?)\nBut Bo don't know jack, 'cause Bo can't rap\nWell, what do you know? The Di-Dawg is first up to bat\nNo batteries included, and no strings attached\nNo holds barred, no time for move-fakin'\nGots to get the loot, so I can bring home the bacon\nBrothers front, they say, \"The Tribe can't flow\"\nBut we've been known to do the impossible like Broadway Joe, so\nSleep if you want, Nytol will help you get your Z's, troop\nBut here's the real scoop\nI'm all that and then some, short, dark, and handsome\nBust a nut inside your eye to show you where I come from\nI'm vexed, fumin', I've had it up to here\nMy days of payin' dues are over, acknowledge me as in there (Yeah!)\nHead for the border, go get a taco\nWatch me wreck it from the jump street, meanin' from the get-go\nSit back, relax, and let yourself go\nDon't sweat what you heard, but act like you know\nYou might also like\nYes, yes, y'all! (Yes, y'all!)\nWho got the vibe? It's the Tribe, y'all! (Tribe, y'all!), real live, y'all! (Live, y'all!)\nInside, outside, come around\n(Who's that?) Broooown!\nSo may I say, call me Charlie\nThe word is the herb and I'm deep like Bob Marley\nLay back on the payback, evolve, rotate the gates\nContact!\nCan I get a hit? (Hit!) Boom bip\nWith a brother named Tip and we're ready to flip\nEast coast stompin', rippin', and rompin'\nNew York, North Cak-a-laka, and Compton\nChecka-checka-check it out\nThe loops for the troops, more bounce to the ounce\nAnd wow-how-now-wow, how now, Brown cow?\nWe're ill 'til the skill gets down for the flex\nNext it's the textbook, old to the new\nBut the rest are doo-doo\nFrom radio to the video, to Arsenio\nTell me, yo, what's the scenario?\n\n(True, blue!) Scooby Doo, whoopie doo\nScenarios, radios, rates more than four\nScores for the s'mores that smother dance floors\nNow I go for mine, shades of sea shore\nShip-shape, crushed grapes, apes that play tapes\nPapes make drakes baked for the wakes\nOf an L-ah, an -eader! Simply just a leader\nBase in the space means peace, see you later\nLater (Later!) Later, alligator\nPop blows the weasel and the urge to inflate her\nSo, yo, the D, what, the O\nIncorporated I-N-C into a flow\nFunk flipped, flat back, first this, foul, fight, fight, fight, laugh\nYo, how'd that sound? (Oooh!)\nIt's a Leader-Quest mission and we got the goods here (Here!)\nNever on the left, 'cause my right's my good ear (Ear!)\nI could give a damn about a ill subliminal\nStay away from crime, so I ain't no criminal!\nI love my young nation, groovy sensation\nNo time for hibernation, only elation\nDon't ever try to test the water, little kid\nYo, Mr. Busta Rhymes, tell 'em what I did\nI heard you rushed and rushed and attacked\nThen they rebuked and you had to smack\nCausin' rambunction throughout the sphere\nRaise the levels of the boom inside the ear (You know I did it)\nSo don't violate or you'll get violated\nThe hip hop sound is well agitated\nWon't ever waste no time on a played out ego\nSo here's Busta Rhymes with the scenario:\n\nWatch as I combine all the juice from the mind\nHeel up, wheel up, bring it back, come, rewind\nPowerful impact (Boom!) from the cannon!\nNot braggin', tryna read my mind, just imagine\nVocabulary's necessary when diggin' into my library\nOh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh!\nEatin' Ital Stew like the one Peter Tosh, uh\nUgh, ugh, ugh! All over the track, man\nUgh, pardon me, ugh! As I come back!\nAs I did it, yo, I had to beg your pardon\nWhen I travel through the town, I roll with the squadron\nRawr! Rawr! Like a dungeon dragon\nChange your little drawers, 'cause your pants are saggin'\nTry to step to this, I will twist you in a turban\nAnd have you smellin' rank like some old, stale urine\nChickity Choco, the chocolate chicken\nThe rear cock diesel, buttcheeks, they were kickin'\nYo, bust it out before the Busta bust another rhyme\nThe rhythm is in sync (Uh!), the rhymes are on time (Time!)\nRippin' up the sound just like Horatio\nObserve the vibe and check out the scenario\nHere we go, yo, here we go, yo (Yeah, my man, motherfucker)\nSo what, so what, so what's the scenario?\nHere we go, yo, here we go, yo\nSo what, so what, so what's the scenario?\nHere we go, yo, here we go, yo\nSo what, so what, so what's the scenario?\nHere we go, yo, here we go, yo\nSo what, so what, so what's the scenario?"}
{"text":"Can I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nWell, I'm gone (Go on then!)\n\nCan I kick it? To all the people who can Quest like A Tribe does\nBefore this, did you really know what live was?\nComprehend to the track, for it's why cuz\nGettin measures on the tip of the vibers\nRock and roll to the beat of the funk fuzz\nWipe your feet really good on the rhythm rug\nIf you feel the urge to freak, do the jitterbug\nCome and spread your arms if you really need a hug\nAfrocentric living is a big shrug\nA life filled with fun that's what I love\nA lower plateau is what we're above\nIf you diss us, we won't even think of\nWill Nipper the doggy give a big shove?\nThis rhythm really fits like a snug glove\nLike a box of positives it's a plus, love\nAs the Tribe flies high like a dove\n(Can I kick it?)\nYou might also like\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you can!)\nWell, I'm gone (Go on then!)\n\nCan I kick it? To my Tribe that flows in layers\nRight now, Phife is a poem sayer\nAt times, I'm a studio conveyor\nMr. Dinkins, would you please be my mayor?\nYou'll be doing us a really big favor\nBoy this track really has a lot of flavor\nWhen it comes to rhythms, Quest is your savior\nFollow us for the funky behavior\nMake a note on the rhythm we gave ya\nFeel free, drop your pants, check your ha-ir\nDo you like the garments that we wear?\nI instruct you to be the obeyer\nA rhythm recipe that you'll savor\nDoesn't matter if you're minor or major\nYes, the Tribe of the game we're the player\nAs you inhale like a breath of fresh air\n(Can I kick it?)"}
{"text":"Uh, uh, uh, uh\nUh, uh, uh, check the rhyme\n\nBack in the days on the boulevard of Linden\nWe used to kick routines and the presence was fittin'\nIt was I, The Abstract\nAnd me, the Five Footer\nI kicks the mad style so step off the frankfurter\nYo, Phife, you remember that routine\nThat we used to make spiffy like Mr. Clean?\nUm... um... a tidbit, um... a smidgen\nI don't get the message so you gots to run the pigeon\nHeh, okay, you on point, Phife? All the time, Tip\nYou on point, Phife? All the time, Tip\nYou on point, Phife? All the time, Tip\nWell, then grab the microphone and let your words rip\n\nNow here's a funky introduction of how nice I am\nTell your mother, tell your father, send a telegram\nI'm like an energizer 'cause, you see, I last long\nMy crew is never ever wack because we stand strong\nNow if you say my style is wack, that's where you're dead wrong\nI slayed that Buddy in El Segundo then Push it Along\nYou'd be a fool to reply that Phife is not the man\n'Cause you know and I know that you know who I am\nA special shout of peace goes out to all my pals, you see\nAnd a middle finger goes for all you punk MC's\n'Cause I love it when you wack MC's despise me\nThey get vexed, I roll next, can't none contest me\nI'm just a fly MC who's five foot three and very brave\nOn top remaining, no home training 'cause I misbehave\nI come correct in full effect have all my hoes in check\nAnd before I get the butt, the Jim must be erect\nYou see, my aura's positive, I don't promote no junk\nSee, I'm far from a bully and I ain't a punk\nExtremity in rhythm, yeah, that's what you heard\nSo just clean out your ears and just check the word\nYou might also like\nCheck the rhyme y'all, check the rhyme y'all\nCheck the rhyme y'all, check the rhyme y'all\nCheck the rhyme y'all, check the rhyme y'all\nCheck it out, check it out\nCheck the rhyme y'all, check the rhyme y'all\nCheck the rhyme y'all, play tapes y'all\nCheck the rhyme y'all, check the rhyme y'all\nCheck it out, check it out\n\nBack in the days on the boulevard of Linden\nWe used to kick routines and the presence was fittin'\nIt was I, the Phifer And me, the Abstract\nThe rhymes were so rumpin' that the brothers rode the 'zack\nAiyo Tip, do you recall when we used to rock What?\nThose fly routines on your cousin's block?\nUm, let me see... damn, I can't remember\nI receive the message and you will play the sender\nYou on point Tip? All the time, Phife\nYou on point Tip? Yeah, all the time, Phife\nYou on point Tip? Yo, all the time, Phife\nSo play the resurrector and give the dead some life\n\nOkay, if knowledge is the key then just show me the lock\nGot the scrawny legs but I move just like Lou Brock\nWith speed, I'm agile plus I'm worth your while\nOne hundred percent intelligent black child\nMy optic presentation sizzles the retina\nHow far must you go to gain respect? Umm...\nWell, it's kinda simple, just remain your own\nOr you'll be crazy, sad and alone\nIndustry rule number four-thousand-and-eighty;\nRecord company people are shady\nSo kids, watch your back 'cause I think they smoke crack\nI don't doubt it, look at how they act\nWell, off to better things like a hip-hop forum\nPass me the rock and I'll score 'em with decorum\nAnd proper\u2014what you say, Hammer? Proper\nRap is not pop, if you call it that then stop\nNC, y'all check the rhyme y'all\nSC, y'all check it out y'all\nVirginia, check the rhyme y'all\nCheck it out, check it out\nIn London, check the rhyme, y'all"}
{"text":"Yo, microphone check one, two, what is this?\nThe five foot assassin with the roughneck business\nI float like gravity, never had a cavity\nGot more rhymes than the Winans got family\nNo need to sweat Arsenio to gain some type of fame\nNo shame in my game cause I'll always be the same\nStyles upon styles upon styles is what I have\nYou wanna diss the Phifer but you still don't know the half\nI sport New Balance sneakers to avoid a narrow path\nMess around with this you catch a size eight up your ass\nI never half-step cause I'm not a half-stepper\nDrink a lot of soda so they call me Dr. Pepper\nRefuse to compete with BS competition\nYour name ain't Special Ed\nSo won't you seckle with the mission\nI never walk the street thinking it's all about me\nEven though deep in my heart, it really could be\nI just try my best to like go all out\nSome might even say yo shorty black you're buggin' out\n\nZulu Nation, brothers last creation\nMinds get flooded, ejaculation\nRight on the two-inch tape\nThe Abstract poet incognito, runs the cape\nNot the best not the worst and occasionally I curse\nTo get my point across, so bust, the floss\nAs I go in between, the grit and the dirt\nListen to the mission listen Miss as I do work, umm\nAs I crack the, monotone\nChildren of the jazz so, get your own\nSmokin R&B cause they try to do me\nOr the best of the pack but they can't do rap\nFor it's Abstract, original\nYou can't get your own and that's, pitiful\nI know I'd be the man if I cold yanked the plug\nOn R&B, but I can't and that's bugged\nYou might also like\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\n\nYo when you bug out\nYou usually have a reason for the action\nSometimes you don't it's just for mere satisfaction\nPeople be hounding, always surrounding\nPulsing, just like a migraine pounding\nYou don't really fret, you stay in your sense\nCamouflage your feeling, of absolute tense\nYou soar off to another world, deep in your mind\nBut people seem to take that, as being unkind\n\"Oh yo he's acting stank,\" really on a regal?\nA man of the fame not a man of the people\nBelieve that if you wanna but I tell you this much\nRiding on the train with no dough, sucks\nOnce again a case of your feet in my Nike's\nIf a crowd is in my realm I'm saying -- mic please\nHip-hop is living, can't yank the plug\nIf you do the result, will end up kind of bugged\nYo, I am not an invalid although\nI used to smoke the weed out\nAli Shaheed Muhammad used to say I had to be out\nScheming on the cookies with the crazy booming back buns\nPushing on them real hard just so we can have the big fun\nWhen I left for road, see, I was Boulevard status\nBattling an MC was when Tip was at his maddest\nIt was one MC after one MC\nWhat the world could they be wanting see from little old me\nDo I have the formula to save the world?\nOr was it just because I used to\nSwipe the women and all the girls\nI'm the type of brother with the crazy extended hand, kid\nDissed by all my brothers I was all up what my man did\nSupposed to be my man\nBut now I wonder cause you're feeble\nI go out with the strongies and I separate the evils\nIt's your brain against my mind, for those about to boot out\nAll you nasty critters even though you see I bug out\n\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out\nBuggin' out, buggin' out, buggin' out, you're buggin' out"}
{"text":"81 ContributorsBonita Applebum Lyrics\nDo I love you?\nDo I lust for you?\nAm I a sinner because I do the two?\nCan you let me know?\nRight now, please\nBonita Applebum\n\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita Applebum, I said, \"You gotta put me on\"\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita Applebum, I said, \"You gotta put me on\"\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita Applebum, I said, \"You gotta put me on\"\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita, Bonita, Bonita\n\nHey, Bonita, glad to meet ya (Heh)\nFor the cunning, stunning you, miss, I must beseech ya (Mmh)\nHey, being with you is a top priority\nAin't no need to question the authority (Mhm)\nChairman of the board, the chief of affections (Hm)\nYou got mine's to swing in your direction\nHey, you're like a hip hop song, you know? (Heh-heh)\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nYou might also like\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita Applebum, I said, \"You gotta put me on\"\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita Applebum, I said, \"You gotta put me on\"\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita Applebum, I said, \"You gotta put me on\"\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita, Bonita, Bonita\n\n38-24-37 (Mmm, mmm, mmm)\nYou and me, hun, we're a match made in heaven (*kissing*)\nI like to kiss ya where some brothers won't (Listen up)\nI like to tell ya things some brothers don't (Mhm)\nIf only you could see through your elaborate eyes\nOnly you and me, hun, the love never dies\nSatisfaction, I have the right tactics\nAnd if you need 'em, I got crazy prophylactics\nSo far, I hope you like rap songs\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\n\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita Applebum, I said, \"You gotta put me on\"\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita Applebum, I said, \"You gotta put me on\"\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita Applebum, I said, \"You gotta put me on\"\nBonita Applebum, you gotta put me on\nBonita, Bonita, Bonita\nAyo, who's having a ball?\nAnd you know, they ask me to get on the mic\nAnd they ask me\nCan I kick it? Word (Yes you can!)\nCan I kick it? (Yes, you\u2014)"}
{"text":"We got the jazz, we got the jazz\nWe got the jazz, we got the jazz\nWe got the jazz, we got the jazz\nWe got the jazz, we got the jazz\n\nStern firm and young with a laid-back tongue\nThe aim is to succeed and achieve at 21\nJust like Ringling Brothers, I'll daze and astound\nCaptivate the mass, cause the prose was profound\nDo it for the strong, we do it for the meek\nBoom it in your boom it in your boom it in your Jeep\nOr your Honda, or your Bimmer, or your Legend, or your Benz\nThe rave of the town to your foes and your friends\nSo push it, along, trails, we blaze\nDon't deserve the gong, don't deserve the praise\nThe tranquility will make you unball your fist\nFor we put Hip Hop on a brand new twist\nA brand new twist with a whole heap of mystic\nSo low-key that you probably missed it\nAnd yet it's so loud that it stands in the crowd\nWhen the guy takes the beat, they bowed\nSo raise up squire, adjust your attire\nWe have no time to wallow in the mire\nIf you're on a foreign path, then let me do the lead\nJoin in the essence of the cool-out breed\nThen cool out to the music cause it makes you feel serene\nWith the birds and the bees and all those groovy things\nLike getting stomach aches when you gotta go to work\nOr staring into space when you're feeling berserk\nI don't really mind if it's over your head\nCause the job of resurrectors is to wake up the dead\nSo pay attention, it's not hard to decipher\nAnd after the horns, you can check out the Phifer\nYou might also like\nWe got the jazz, we got the jazz\nWe got the jazz, we got the jazz\nWe got the jazz, we got the jazz\nWe got the jazz, we got the jazz\n\nCompetition dem try fe come side way\nBut competition they must come straight way\nCompetition dem try fe come side way\nBut competition they must come straight way\nHow's about that, it seems like it's my turn again\nAll through the years my mic has been my best friend\nI know some brothers wonder, can Phife really kick it?\nSome even wanna diss me, but why sweat it?\nI'm all into my music cos it's how I make papes\nTry to make hits, like Kid Capri makes tapes\nMe sweat another? I do my own thing\nStrictly hardcore tracks, not a new jack swing\nI grew up as a Christian so to Jah I give thanks\nCollect my banks, listen to Shabba Ranks\nI sing, and chat, I do all of that\nIt's 1991 and I refuse to come wack\nI take off my hat to other crews that tend to rock\nBut the Low End Theory's here, it's time to wreck shop\nI got Tip and Shah (huh), so whom shall I fear? (Word)\nStop look and listen, but please don't stare (uh)\nSo jet to the store, and buy the LP (yeah)\nOn Jive\/RCA, cassettes and CD's\nProduced and arranged (huh?) by the four-man crew\nAnd oh shit, Skeff Anselm, he gets props too (ha-ha)\nMake sure you have a system with some fat house speakers (Yeah)\nSo the new shit can rock (uh), from Bronx to Massapequa (uh)\nCause where I come from quality is job one\nAnd everybody up on Linden know we get the job done\nSo peace to that crew (yeah), and peace to this crew (Yeah)\nBring on the tour, we'll see you at a theatre nearest you\nHey yo but wait, back it up, hup, easy back it up\nPlease let the Abstract embellish on the cut\nBack and forth just like a Cameo song\nIf you dig this joint then please come dance along\nTo the music cause it's done just for the rhyme\nNow I gotta scat and get mine, underline\nThe jazz, the what? The jazz can move that ass\nCause the Tribe originates that feeling of pizazz\nIt's the universal sound, bless the brothers on the ground\nAnd the ones six below, you didn't have to go\nSome say that I'm eccentric cause I once had an orgy\nAnd sometimes for breakfast I eat grits and porgies\nIf this is a stinker, then call me a skunk, I ask\n(\"What's, wrong?\") Now check it out\n\nAll my peoples in Queens ya don't stop\nNow all my peoples in Brooklyn ya don't stop\nAnd all my peoples uptown ya don't stop\nThat includes the Bronx and Harlem ya don't stop\nNow to that girl Ramelle ya don't stop\nI said because Ladies First ya don't stop\nAnd to the JB's, ya don't stop\nAnd De La Soul, ya don't stop\nTo my Brand Nubians ya don't stop\nAnd to my Leaders of the New ya don't stop\nTo my man Large Professor ya don't stop\nPete Rock for the beat ya don't stop\nEverybody in the place ya don't stop\nYou keep it on, to the rhythm, ya don't stop\nAnd last but not least on the sure shot\nIt's the Zulu nation, heh"}
{"text":"I\u2019mma deal with a bigger insult, man\nThe heat, the heat, the heat, the heat\nIt's comin' down hard\nWe\u2019ve got to get our shit together\n\nIt\u2019s time to go left and not right\nGotta get it together forever\nGotta get it together for brothers\nGotta get it together for sisters\nFor mothers and fathers and dead niggas\nFor non-conformists, one hitter quitters\nFor Tyson types and Che figures\nLet\u2019s get it together, come on let\u2019s make it\nGotta make it to make it, to make it, to make it, to make it\nTo make something happen, to make something happen\nTo make something happen, let\u2019s make something happen\n\nWord to Phifer\nGonna bring it to the overlord, drinkin' Cisco\nChilling with the gold microphone cords\nAnd we grip our balls every time we stuntin' on tour\n'Cause we never bore, responding to the ready crowd's roar\nAnd promoters try to hit us with the art of war\nWe about our business, we not quitters\nNot bullshitters, we deliver\u2014we go-get it\nDon\u2019t be bitter 'cause we not just niggas\nJarobi, my fiber wove into different cloth\nAin\u2019t nothing forbidden, this nigga get his written off\nHardest spit in the city y\u2019all niggas spitting kitten soft\nConfused and amazed, shook up with your brain missing lost\nThey planning for our future, people\nNone of our people involved\nPouring Henny and Smirnoff to get it cracking off\nCracking off a Smirnoff to quickly turn to Molotov\nMolotov the spaceship doors before that bitch is taking off\nIt always seems the poorest persons\nAre people forsaken, dawg\nNo Washingtons, Jeffersons, Jacksons\nOn the captain's log\nThey\u2019d rather lead us to the grayest water poison deadly smog\nMass un-blackening, it\u2019s happening, you feel it y\u2019all?\nRather see we in a three-by-three structure with many bars\nLeave us where we are so they can play among the stars\nThey taking off to Mars, got the space vessels overflowing\nWhat, you think they want us there? All us niggas not going\nReputation ain\u2019t glowing, reparations ain\u2019t flowing\nIf you find yourself stuck in a creek, you better start rowing\nUsed to see the TV screen as the place to land my dream in\nAnd the car stereo where they would promote the show\nOptimistic little brother with a hope you know\nYou might also like\n(Move on to the stars)\nThere ain\u2019t a space program for niggas\nYeah, you stuck here, nigga\n(Move on to the stars)\nThere ain\u2019t a space program for niggas\nYeah, you stuck here nigga\n(Move on to the stars)\nThere ain\u2019t a space program for niggas\nYeah, you stuck here, nigga\n(Move on to the stars)\nThere ain\u2019t a space program for niggas\nYeah, you stuck, stuck, stuck\n(Move on to the stars)\n\nSit and wonder sometimes, I read the paper every day\nAll these happenings is cycular, just happen different ways\nAnd the president's refined, in her wing she's confined\nWith about thirty Percocets and five bottles of wine\nCarolina nothing finer than a Black woman who climbs\nTo the top of the State building claiming that that flag is mine\nNow, people on top of people, feels like we can\u2019t breathe\nPut so much in this muthafucka, feel like we shouldn't leave\nPut it on TV, put it in movies, put it in our face\nThese notions and ideas and citizens live in space\nI chuckle just like all of y'all, absurdity, after all\nTakes money to get it running and money for trees to fall\nImagine for one second all the people are colored, please\nImagine for one second all the people in poverty\nNo matter the skin tone, culture or time zone\nThink the ones who got it\nWould even think to throw you a bone?\nMoved you out your neighbourhood, did they find you a home?\nNah cypher, probably no place to\nImagine if this shit was really talkin\u2019 about space, dude\nImagine if this shit was really talkin\u2019 about space, dude\nImagine if this shit was really talkin\u2019 about space, dude\nTime to go left and not right\nGotta get it together forever\nGotta get it together for brothers\nGotta get it together for sisters\nFor mothers and fathers and dead niggas\nFor non-conformers, won\u2019t hear the quitters\nFor Tyson types and Che figures\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nGotta get it together for brothers\nGotta get it together for sisters\nFor mothers and fathers and dead niggas\nFor non-conformists, one-hitter quitters\nFor Tyson types and Che figures\nMake make make\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nGotta get it together forever\nGotta get it together for brothers\nGotta get it together for sisters\nFor mothers and fathers and dead niggas\nFor non-conformists, one-hitter quitters\nFor Tyson types and Che figures\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nGotta get it together for brothers\nGotta get it together for sisters\nFor mothers and fathers and dead niggas\nFor non-conformists, one-hitter quitters\nFor Tyson types and Che figures\nMake make make\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nGotta get it together forever\nGotta get it together for brothers\nGotta get it together for sisters\nFor mothers and fathers and dead niggas\nFor non-conformists, one-hitter quitters\nFor Tyson types and Che figures\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nGotta get it together for brothers\nGotta get it together for sisters\nFor mothers and fathers and dead niggas\nFor non-conformists, one-hitter quitters\nFor Tyson types and Che figures\nMake, make, make\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nLet\u2019s make somethin' happen, let\u2019s make somethin' happen\nThe danger must be growing\nFor the rowers keep on rowing\nAnd they\u2019re certainly not showing\nAny signs that they are slowing!\n\"We\u2019re there!\"\n\"Where?\"\n\"Here!\"\nA small step for mankind\nBut a giant step for us\nOompa, loompa, doopa dee doo\nI\u2019ve got another puzzle for you"}
{"text":"\nWe on a world tour with Muhammad, my man (Right, true)\nGoin' each and every place with the mic in their hand (Right, true)\nNew York, NJ, NC, VA (Right, true)\n(Right, true)\nWe on a world tour with Muhammad, my man (Right, true)\nGoin' each and every place with the mic in their hand (Right, true)\nOaktown, LA, San Fran, St. John (Right, true)\n(Right)\n\nPeople, give your ears, so I be sublime\nIt's enjoyable to know you and your concubines\nNiggas, take off your coats, ladies, act like gems\nSit down, Indian style, as we recite these hymns\nSee, lyrically I'm Mario Andretti on the MOMO\nLudicrously speedy, or infectious with the slow-mo\nHeard me in the 80's, J.B.'s on \"The Promo\"\nIn my never-endin' quest to get the paper on the caper\nBut now, let me take it to the Queens side\nI'm takin' it to Brooklyn side\nAll the residential Questers who invade the air\nHold up a second, son, 'cause we almost there\nYou can be a black man and lose all your soul\nYou can be white and groove, but don't crap the roll\nSee my shit is universal if you got knowledge of dolo\nOr delf or self, see there's no one else\nWho can drop it on the angle, acute at that\nSo do that, do that, do that, that, that (Come on)\nDo that, do that, do that, that, that (Yeah, okay)\nDo that, do that, do that, that, that\nI'm buggin' out, but let me get back, 'cause I'm wettin' niggas\nSo run and tell the others, 'cause we are the brothers\nI learned how to build mics in my workshop class\nSo give me this award and let's not make it the last\nYou might also like\nWe on a world tour with Muhammad, my man (Right, true)\nGoin' each and every place with the mic in their hand (Right, true)\nChinatown, Spokane, London, Tokyo (Right, true)\n(Right, true)\nWe on a world tour with Muhammad, my man (Right, true)\nGoin' each and every place with the mic in their hand (Right, true)\nHouston, Delaware, DC, Dallas (Right, true)\n(Right, true)\n\nBack in '89 I simply slid into place\nBuddy, buddy, buddy all up in your face\nA lot of kids was bustin' rhymes, but they had no taste\nSome said Quest was wack, but now is that the case?\nI have a quest to have a mic in my hand\nWithout that it's like Kryptonite and Superman\nSo Shaheed, come in with the sugar cuts\nPhife Dawg's my name, but on stage call me Dynomutt\nWhen was the last time you heard the Phifer sloppy?\nLyrics anonymous, you'll never hear me copy\nTop notch, baby, never comin' less\nSky's the limit, you gots to believe up in Quest\nSit back, relax, get up out the path\nIf not that, here's a dancefloor, come move that ass\nNon-believers, you can check the stats\nI roll with Shaheed and the brother Abstract\nNiggas know the time when Quest is in the jam\nI never let a statue tell me how nice I am\nComin' with more hits than the Braves and the Yankees\nLivin' mad phat like an oversized mampi\nThe wackest crews try to diss, it makes me laugh\nWhen my track record's longer than a DC-20 aircraft\nSo next time that you think you want somethin' here\nMake somethin' def or take that garbage to St. Elsewhere\nWe on a world tour with Muhammad, my man (Right, true)\nGoin' each and every place with the mic in their hand (Right, true)\nSC, Maryland, New Orleans, Motown (Right, true)\n(Right, true)\nWe on a world tour with Muhammad, my man (Right, true)\nGoin' each and every place with the mic in their hand (Right, true)\nChinatown, Spokane, London, Tokyo (Right, true)\n(Right, true)\nWe on a world tour with Muhammad, my man (Right, true)\nGoin' each and every place with the mic in their hand (Right, true)\nHouston, Delaware, DC, Dallas (Right, true)\n(Right, true)\nWe on a world tour with Muhammad, my man (Right, true)\nGoin' each and every place with the mic in their hand (Right, true)\nNew York, NJ, NC, VA (Right, true)\n\nSeven times out of ten we listen to our music at night\nThus spawned the title of this program\nThe word 'Maraud' means to loot\nIn this case we maraud for ears"}
{"text":"83 ContributorsExcursions Lyrics\nBack in the days when I was a teenager\nBefore I had status and before I had a pager\nYou could find the Abstract listenin' to hip-hop\nMy pops used to say, it reminded him of Bebop\nI said, \"Well, Daddy, don't you know that things go in cycles?\nWay that Bobby Brown is just amping like Michael\"\nIt's all expected, things are for the lookin'\nIf you got the money, Quest is for the bookin'\nCome on everybody, let's get with the fly mode\nStill got room on the truckload of black boom\nListen to the rhymes, then get a mental picture\nOf this black man, and black woman fixture\nWhy do I say that? 'Cause I gotta speak the truth, man\nDoin' what we feel for the music is the proof, and\nPlanted on the ground, the act is so together\nBona fide strong, you need leverage to sever\nThe unit, yes, the unit, yes, the unit called the jazz is\nDelivering each year an LP filled with street goods\nYou can find it on your rack in your record store\nIf you get the record, say your thoughts are adored\nAnd appreciated, 'cause we're ever so glad we made it\nWe work hard, so we gotta thank God\nDishin' out the plastic, do the dance till you're spastic\nIf you diss\u2014it gets drastic\nListen to the rhyme, 'cause it's time to make gravy\nIf it moves your booty, then shake, shake it, baby\nAll the way to Africa, A.K.A. the Motherland\nStick out the left, then I'll ask for the other hand\nThat's the right hand, Black man\nOnly if you are noted as my man\nIf I get the credit, then I think I deserve it\nIf you fake moves, don't fix your mouth to word it\nGet in the zone of positivity, not negativity\n'Cause we gotta strive for longevity\nIf you botch up, what's in that \n(What?) A pair of Nikes, size ten-and-a-half\nYou might also like\nWe gotta make moves (words)\nNever, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)\nWe gotta make moves (words)\nNever, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)\nWe gotta make moves\nNever, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)\nWe gotta make moves\nNever, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)\n\n\"Time, time is a ship on a merciless sea\nDrifting toward an abyss of nothingness\nUntil it can be recharted for its own destiny\nTime is an inanimate object paying and paying and paying for no justification for belief\nTime is dancing, boogalooing-away all memories of past\u2014\"\n\nWe gotta be a winner all the time\nCan't fall prey to a hip-hop crime\nWith the dope raps and dope tracks we move blocks\nFrom the fly girlies to the hardest of the rocks\nMusically the Quest, is on the rise\nWe on these excursions so you must realize\nThat continually, I pop my Zulu \nIf you don't like it, get off the Zulu tip\nSo what can you do in the times which exist\nYou can't fake moves on your brother or your sis\nBut if your sis is a , brother is a jerk\nLeave 'em both alone and continue with your work\nWhatever it may be in today's society\nEverything is fair, least that's how it seems to me\nYou must be honest and true to the next\nDon't be phony and expect one not to flex\nEspecially if you rhyme, you have to live by the pen\nYour man is your man, then treat him like your friend\nAll it is, is the code of the streets\nSo listen to the knowledge being dropped over beats\nBeats that are hard, beats that are funky\nThey could get you hooked like a crackhead junkie\nWhat you gotta do is know the Tribe is in the sphere\nThe Abstract Poet, prominent like Shakespeare\n(Or Edgar Allan Poe, or Langston Hughes, or...)\nWe gotta make moves\nNever, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)\nWe gotta make moves\nNever, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)\nWe gotta make moves\nNever, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)\nWe gotta make moves\nNever, ever, ever could we fake moves (come on, come on)\n\n\"\u2014time is running out on black power advocates in the day and white thighed supporters at night\nEvery time you see them, they're chasin' some white woman with their tongue hangin' out\nTime is running and passing, passing and running, running and passing, passing and running\u2014\"\nExcursions"}
{"text":"Conrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nJust done mash a show, Dawg is off on sabbatical\nRather watch the Nixon shit than politicians politic\nCNN and all this shit, gwaan yo, move with the fuckery\nTrump and the SNL hilarity\nTroublesome times kid, no times for comedy\nBlood clot, you doing, bullshit you spewing\nAs if this country ain't already ruined\nIn lieu of these mumbling, fumbling\nSwearing they're the greatest\nOnline they debate us, if we different, then we're haters\nWe ended our hiatus, the dogs looking for food\nThe nucleus is here now (ooo)\n\nToleration for devastation, got a hunger for sin\nEvery nation Obama nation, let the coroner in\nCrooked faces, red and blue laces for the color of men\nJust embrace it and die alone, song of Revelation\nReverends and cattles racing\nDevils and demons and Deuteronomy\nFumigate our economy, 'lluminate broken dreams\nAnd manifest all insanity, look around\nSayonara tomorrow, it's just blood on the ground\nYou might also like\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nSayonara tomorrow, it's just blood on the ground\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nSayonara tomorrow, it's just blood on the ground\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nSayonara tomorrow, it's just blood on the ground\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nSayonara tomorrow, it's just blood on the ground\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\n\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\nConrad Tokyo, Sapporo, pistachio\n"}
{"text":"Handle rocks with the capital G, ball on the beat\nStatus, Chris Paul and John Wall in the league\nGrabbin' mics till the knuckles would bleed\n('Cause I believe\nThe potent that I'm quoting will have you geeked like speed)\nIf rationale is naturale or a weave\nIt's all edges and peas\nSettin' press, we on a permanent steeze\nI'm in a world where my princess is Leia\nAnd she's feeling my Vader\nAnd my lure grows greater and greater\nChem trails, droppin' poisonous vapors\nHave you shaking like Gator\nBeen trill, nigga, process the data\nBlu-ray, wave file, or a Beta, I'll DVR it for later\nKappo Masa with a G to my waiter\nYou can't define us, XY us, or Z us\nYou generational elitists\nHave your chi in virtual think pieces\n(See, these written words are poetical science\nBrain's defiant, thoughts heavy, baby\nThey're a major appliance)Leave a dent when drop with the flyness, fluent giant\nDude's nice, he tight, screwed in with some pliers\nCool with some buyers\nYeah, nigga, cool with some growers\n(Never no tattletales, only I don't knowers)\nWe a show me generation, show us what you gon' show us\nSo listen, mami, see we could collude with a boing\nMouthpiece like Goines, with a jubilant noise\nDudes rude and as useless as coins, shoot 'em boys\nVersed in, rehearsed in the soothing of loins\nTalk to Joey, Earl, Kendrick, and Cole, gatekeepers of flow\nThey are extensions of instinctual soulIt's the highest in commodity grade\nAnd you could get it today\nYou might also like\nDis generation, dis generation, dis generation\nDis generation, dis generation, dis generation\nRules di nation\n\nOne hitting reading pages of Poe\nTelly is low, cuddle bunny ready to go\nDay of the dead\nBury all the zombies instead\nAnd it's just your aftermath, Busta cuttin' your dreads\nBruce Leein' niggas, while you niggas UFC\nSmoke tree on niggas, sizzle out your USB\n(Surge pricing on these Ubers, I'mma get me a cab)\nYo, where Jarobi at?\nImbibing on impeccable grass\nI be in NYC waiting for that law to pass\n(Pass shit, been waiting for a Jet's title since last\nRichard Todd, Todd Bowles, gang green on that ass)\nMagic Mike on the mic, David Blaine, Douglass Henning\nIn the church of Busta Rhymes, it's my sermon you're getting\nHorizontal spittin', I'm the exorcist of your writtens\nDon't interrupt me, nigga, sorry, that's a sin unforgivenLike how we be skipping on beats like cooking crack in the kitchen\nB-b-b-b-b-b-but wait\nJust spit the package, dry it, bag up the wet\nThis mad city's not a game, easy, quiet on set, Phife\n(Student of the past trailblazing a daze\nNot acknowledging a trend or swept up in a phase\nWe still the highest of commodity grade\nAnd you could get it, get it, get it, get it today)\nDis generation, dis generation, dis generation\nDis generation, dis generation, dis generation\nRules di nation\n\nThis is our generation, generation, uh huh, yeah\nThis our generation, generation, uh huh\nThis our generation, generation, uh huh"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsHot Sex Lyrics\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\n\nAiyo, put one up for the Phifer, long time no hear from\nSuckers walkin' around talkin' about they could get some\nBut that vibe is non-cypher, no can do\nAnd if you take I fi' joke, then ask the other two\nAnd I proceed to let you know, exactly how to flow\nI'm not Lawn Doctor so just seckle with the hoe\nOops... my mistake, I didn't know you went with her\nShould I run down the line of all the kids that done hit her?\nDon't be bitter, I hear that honey resembles a critter\nHeard she likes the two-on-one like my man John Ritter\nBut back to the subject, you can't catch wreck\nYou must get respect, to earn respect\nSuckers think they could hurt me, 'cause now I wear specs\nYou're full of jokes, but yo, your name ain't Flex\nI got the riches, the bitches, I'm large like a Huxtable\nYou think you're all that, but your girl's quite doable!\nYeah, I'm tellin' you G, to back up off me\nI\u2019m not a man called Hawk, but I ain\u2019t Mr. Softee\nRappin' is an art comin' straight from the heart\nSo forget the chart because the action can start\nYou might also like\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\n\nUh ha... where ya at? To all my people with the funk\nI'm the undercover brother, dump your hoe in the trunk\nSave all the sad songs and the tearjerkers\nNiggas, step back, it's the lyrical worker\nThe poems that I create ain't in paperback books\nThe poems that I create are for hookers and the crooks\nMy mental is excellin' 'cause I dabble in the books\nI'm not the one to front on, so suboops-suboops\nYo, I gets the pickin's, I'm such a damn Dickens\nIf you step to this then the plot just thickens\nI'll run you around the track like a bunny and a dog\nTo me, your just another MC on the log\nA link in the chain, fluid on the brain\nI boast of hype lyrics, and yours are mundane\nSee, I can't maintain, especially if you come back\nI'm the lyrical master blaster, yeah, I could do that\nI could also do your girl, so leave the hoe at home\n'Cause when I get done, I'll have her strung on bones\nIt's the no-joke pressure that elevates my mind\nMake me pick up and go when it's time to drop my rhymes\nMy title is rock, the Abstract Poetic\nI'm in the idle mode but my energy's kinetic\nSo smooth and debonair, special for the ear\nGotta keep my thing in gear\n'Cause it's evident and clear that I will rock, rock, rock...\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter\nHot sex on a platter"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsThe Donald Lyrics\nPhife Dawg, what a go on with the crew?\nNuff ting, that's why me had to come through\nPhife Dawg, you spit wicked every verse\nThem no say, respect the Trini man first\nPhife Dawg, I know you had the man shook up\nGood shit, 'cause you a mastermind that cook up\nPhife Dawg, what a go on with the crew?\nNuff ting, that's why me had to come through\nPhife Dawg, you spit wicked every verse\nThem no say, respect Trini man first\nPhife Dawg, I know on the one and twos\nGive me that w-w-wait, damn, that's the one part I, alright, let me say\nPhife Dawg, I know you on the one and twos\nGive me a zooguh zooguh and do exactly what you do\nTribe Called Quest, you see them back with one another\nAyo, Busa' Bus', them don't want no problem, brotha\n\n\nPhife Dawg legend, you could call me Don Juice\nI'm the shit right now, what, you need to see proof?\nRecently on the internet they chatting\nTaking polls, debating who could win in battle rapping\nLet's make it happen, these cyber flows already par\nNo subliminals, with me you know who the fuck you are\nWho wanna spar? Haha, well, here I are\nOrthodox spitter or bring on the southpaw\nNo doubt I'mma set it, dudes best be ready\nOff top on the spot, no reading from your Whackberry\nLeave the iPhones home, skill sets must be shown\nI'mma show you the real meaning of the danger zone, huh\nI got it sewn, eh speak to all clones\nUntouchable in my zone, watch it, don't leave him alone\nFuck your ass cheek flows with bars sweeter than scones\nPut down microphone\nYou might also like\nYes, yes, he the wrong ones to fuck with\nNo matter what the day\nHe could catch you on his plane or the one you on today\nVisit niggas in their dreams\nAnd make them scream of bloody murder\nHe's a Trini gladiator, ain't no need to take it further\nIf you wanna take it further your Huckleberry is here\nDoctor of your holiday, Wyatt Earp ya like the tears\nWe gon' celebreate him, elevate him, papa had to levitate him\nGive him his and don't debate him\nTop dog is the way to rate him\n\n\nDon Juice, Don Juice, Don Juice\nPhife Dawg what a go on with the crew?\nPhife Dawg, that's why I had to come through\nPhife Dawg, you spit wicked every verse\nPhife Dawg, respect the Trini man first\nPhife Dawg, I know you had the man shook up\nPhife Dawg, 'cause your mastermind cook up\nPhife Dawg, you know they back with one another\nPhife Dawg, them don't want  no problem, brotha\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brother (Don Juice)\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha\nPhife Dawg, Don Juice\nPhife Dawg what a go on with the crew?\nPhife Dawg, that's why I had to come through\nPhife Dawg, you spit wicked every verse\nPhife Dawg, respect the Trini man first\nPhife Dawg, I know you had the man shook up\nPhife Dawg, 'cause your mastermind cook up\nPhife Dawg, you know they back with one another\nPhife Dawg, them don't want  no problem, brotha\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha (Don Juice)\nPhife Dawg, what a go on with the crew?\nPhife Dawg, that's why I had to come through\nPhife Dawg, you spit wicked every verse\nPhife Dawg, respect the Trini man first\nPhife Dawg, I know you had the man shook up\nPhife Dawg, 'cause your mastermind cook up\nPhife Dawg, you know they back with one another\nPhife Dawg, them don't want  no problem, brotha\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha (Don Juice)\nStep back, them don't want no problem, brotha\nPhife Dawg"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsFind a Way Lyrics\n\nNow, you caught my heart for the evening\nKissed my cheek, moved in, you confuse things\nShould I just sit out or come harder?\nHelp me find my way\n\nMessing me up, my whole head\nTeasing me, just like Tisha did Martin\nNow look at what you're starting\nSchoolboy's crush and it ain't on the hush\nThe whole world sees it but you can't (uh)\nMy peoples they complain, sit and rave and rant (come on)\nYour name is out my mouth like an ancient chant (say what?)\nGot me like a dog as I pause and pant\n*heavy breathing*\n\nSpeakin' of which..\nGot a leash and I wish just to rock you, Miss (C'mon)\nMake a militant move, peep my strategy (What?)\nEnd of the day, you're not mad at me (Ugh)\nNot dealin' with nobody, now that's what you told me (What?)\nI said, \"Hey, yo, it's cool, we can just be friendly\" (C'mon)\n'Cause yo, picture me messin' it up\nHer mind not corrupt, with the ill C-cups\nShit! I'm on my J.O. (C'mon)\nBullshittin', hopin' that the day goes slow (what?)\nGot me like a friend, what confuses me though\nIs kisses when we breeze, tell me what's the deal, yo?\n(Deal yo, yo, yo...)\nYou might also like\nNow, you caught my heart for the evening\nKissed my cheek, moved in, you confuse things\nShould I just sit out or come harder?\nHelp me find my way (Ha-ha!)\nNow, you caught my heart for the evening\nKissed my cheek, moved in, you confuse things (come on)\nShould I just sit out or come harder? (huh?)\nHelp me find my way\n\nNow, why you wanna go and do that, love, huh?\nMakin' things for me towards you harder\nKillin' me, just when I think we there\nYou douse the whole vibe, and the flows in the air\nTellin' me 'bout next man\nBut next man ain't the nigga with the plan\nWho got yo' heart in mind\nIt's about time that you just unwind (C'mon)\n\nAnd let it just happen, make it front-free (Uh)\nJust sweat me like Moneypenny (Uh)\nDiggin' you, gettin' inside of your stee (What?)\nIt's the Quest cat keepin' you company (Ha)\nForever, or however you want it\nWord, word!\nNow wait a minute, ma, before you jet into the curb (Yeah, yeah)\nStart to make impressions, which is good not the herb\nBut it, it ain't me, and I, I ain't blurred (Ah)\nI'ma still just chill with you\nMaybe things could change if you change your view (C'mon)\nIf not, then, I guess it is cool (Yeah)\nJust keep to yourself and abide by the rules, right\n\nLike that y'all\nCheck it out now...\nCheck it out now...\nLike that now...\nCheck it out now...\nWha wha now...\nCheck it out now...\nYeah yeah now...\nCheck it out now...\nCheck it out now...\nIt's like that now...\nCheck it out now...\nYeah yeah now...\nCheck it out now... (Ahem)\nWhat you sayin', what? what?\nNow, you caught my heart for the evening (Talk it out)\nKissed my cheek, moved in, you confuse things (Take your time)\nShould I just sit out or come harder?\nHelp me find my way (Now sing it, sing it)\nNow, you caught my heart for the evening (Sing it out)\nKissed my cheek, moved in, you confuse things (Take your time)\nShould I just sit out or come harder?\nHelp me find my way (Now talk it out)\nNow, you caught my heart for the evening (Sing it out again)\nKissed my cheek, moved in, you confuse things (Come on, come on)\nShould I just sit out or come harder? (Uh)\nHelp me find my way (Now talk it out right now)\nNow, you caught my heart for the evening (Come on, come on)\nKissed my cheek, moved in, you confuse things (What?)\nShould I just sit out or come harder? (What?)\nHelp me find my way (Come on)"}
{"text":"I ain't even gon' lie, I was probably high\nJust forgot to call you back, simple as that\nI ain't no almanac, so lick my dictionary\nI might just call a cab 'cause I dig canary\nYellow accents on a dark bitch\nI met her back when she kept all her carpet\nI'm well aware all that shit is fantasy\nI double dare y'all to fuck your plan B\nThat's demeanor, momma's mannerisms\nThat mean, don't mean to get vulgar, but it's some\nHoes in this bitch like a box of donuts\nIt's cold out in this bitch, standing on the corner\nCondolences to niggas that got erased\nI pour out some liquor on a cop's grave\nMmm, digital church bells\nRingin' 'cross the street, sure work well\n\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) For real (For real?) For real (For real)\nKids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) For real (For real?) For real (For real)\nYou might also like\nI don't wanna get up now, I don't wanna go to school\nI don't wanna be the best, don't wanna follow rules\nMom, I think you fuckin' lied to me\nThree stacks said all this shit is fantasy\nIt's my time, gon' put a little life to it\nIf life's a obstacle then I'mma bike through it\nI see it like a kiddie on the carousel\nIf I 'url while I go around, what the hell\nAnd that went well, so I'm compelled\nTo have visions of getting chicken while my friends get jel\nMy young nigga motto was, \"Fuck it, I'm already grown\"\nAnd I dream of when I'm sixteen, I'm out my home\nThat petty though, 'cause my mama boyfriend dough\nIt's kinda long like this old head hustle, yo\nHe cognizant of a nigga ride and die\nI see us getting money through my green eyes\n\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) For real (For real?) For real (For real)\n\nYeah, all the kids, all the what, uh\nYeah, all the badass kids, uh\nKids, say I'm the shit\nI'm Chick-fil-A nuggets, McDonald's french fries\nThe spicy Popeye's and Red Lobster biscuits\nAnd girls scout thin mints\nPardon my penmanship, but oh shit\nFeel like I'm hungry now again\nAnd I can't do nothing about it because my teeth are all rotted\nAnd my mom and my pop, they just grin\nAnd empathize with me 'cause they were little like Pygmies\nBut too bad they can't get back they 'member whens\nThem grown-up stories don't work\nIn the court of the kiddies', the judgement is in\nAnd while y'all doing all y'all your bids, y'all reminisce as kids\nFuck it, kids, the grown-ups won't own up\nThey stood on the corner\nLike you once upon a, time\nAnd probably felt like a loner\nAnd smelled like a stoner, and snuck to Daytona\nSo when they questioning you 'bout who or who you ain't boning\nComplaining that you always moaning\nNever saying good morning\nStorming out my house\nAnd slamming doors like you paying bills\nThey been through it too, though\nThey were kids like you, though\nBut what if they knew though\nAnd hit you with the cheat code\nTo a game you just start playing, no extra man\nLeave you reckless on the court\nWith no high percentage shot\nJust a bunch of, \"You got 'em, nigga, just give it what you got\"\nYeah, it look a little different on a yacht\nBut ain't gon' lie, I miss kayaking\nI love the young niggas, and they do too, they just be acting\nLike a bunch of retired tired thespians, a bit too salty\nShit, their blood pressure high, why?\nThey don't play no more, probably\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?\n(Kids) Kids, don't you know how all this shit is fantasy?"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsSolid Wall of Sound Lyrics\nGonna hear electric music (What you gon' hear?)\nGonna hear electric music (What you gon' hear?)\nGonna hear electric music\nSolid walls of sound\nSolid walls of sound\n(Solid wall of sound, solid wall of sound)\nSolid walls of sound\n(Solid wall of sound, solid wall of sound)\nSolid walls of sound\n(Pressure breaking ground, pressure breaking sound)\nSolid walls of sound\n(Solid wall of sound, solid wall of sound)\nSolid walls of sound\n(Tip and Phife in town, Tip and Phife in town)\nSolid walls of sound\n(Solid wall of sound, solid wall of sound)\nSolid walls of sound\n(Solid wall of sound, pushing breaking ground)\nSolid walls of sound\n(Solid wall of sound, solid wall of sound)\nSolid walls of sound (Jedi, Ali, Phifey, Tip)\nSolid walls of sound (Jedi, Ali, Phifey, Tip)\nSolid walls of sound (Jedi, Ali, Phifey, Tip)\nSolid walls of sound (Jedi, Phifey, Phifey)\nYou might also like\nYo, ATCQ, Massive and crew\nBars to any beat, we beat the beat for true\nMassengale MC\u2019s, you smell like pussy stew\nDon\u2019t let it be you, man up my youth\nPhife, you should've spoke of, man you'rein the mode of\nLeave that to me, el-Hajj Malik\nThe man with a plan who went for it all\nLike Marauders on a mission when we killin' dance halls\nMmm, Saga boy, Trini man\nRide out when mic is in mi hand\nLoved all of mi fans, one, two, three of dem all of the gang\n\nWith a couple pound a weed and a couple dollar van\nHmm, broke pockets, find another plan\nYeah, cyan dun, push up on the one\nAnd big up the sound man, dibby dibby DJ walk\nAyo Bus with them a talk\nThey don\u2019t want no prob, they don\u2019t want no issue\nOutline them in bloodclaat chalk\nEarlier in the night when we bring out the music\nWith a box and a band killer sound boy movement\nLive and direct when it all goes down\nYou an idiot boy, you don't wanna fuck round\nBig tune make the world go round\nMake way for the sound boy crown\nDon't you know we're the wickedest sound\nOne box off in your face make a sound boy frown\nSolid wall of sound, solid wall of sound\nSolid wall of sound, solid wall of sound\nSolid wall of sound, solid wall of sound\nSolid wall of sound, solid wall of sound\nSolid wall of sound, solid wall of sound\nSolid wall of sound, solid wall of sound\nSolid wall of sound, solid wall of sound\nSolid wall of sound, solid wall of sound\n\nSound checking, a million watts are shaking the room\nIn just a few hours you're gonna feel the burn\nAll of the goons are checking their guns at the door\nA solid wall of sound is here on tour\nIt's gonna get loud\u2014so no phones allowed\nIt's gonna get loud\u2014so no phones allowed"}
{"text":"81 ContributorsOh My God Lyrics\nHo-pssh, ho-pssh-pssh\nUh-uh, uh-uh, uh\nUh, uh-uh, uh\nUh-uh, uh\nUh, uh, uh-uh\n\nListen up, everybody, the bottom line\nI'm a black intellect but unrefined\nWith precision like a bullet, target bound\nJust livin' like a hooker, the harlot sounds\nNow, when I say the harlot, you know I mean the hot\nHeat of the equator, the broth' that's in the pot\nJalick, Jalick, ya wind up ya hip\nDraftin' of the poets, I'm the #7 pick (Uh)\nLicks, licks, licks, boy, pon your backside (Ugh)\nLicks, licks, licks, boy, pon your backside (Ugh)\nListen to the fader, Shaheed lets it glide\nTip the earthly body, Heaven's on my side\nEven in Santo Domingo when I got a Gringo\nWe got mics, when do we go?\nKnow a little nigga who can rhyme when you ask me\nShort, dark, and plus his voice is raspy (Phife)\n\nOne for the treble, two for the bass\nYou know the style, Tip, it's time to flip this\nI like my beats hard like two day old shit\nSteady eatin' booty-MC's like cheese grits\nMy man Al B. Sure, he's in effect mode\nUsed to have a crush on Dawn from En Vogue\nIt's not like honey dip would wanna get with me\nBut just in case, I own more condoms than TLC\nNow, the formula is this \u2014 Me, Tip and Ali\nFor those who can't count, it goes one-two-three\nThe anti-batty boy, big up is who I be\nBrothers find this hard to do, but never me\nSome brothers try to diss, but Malik, you see 'em bitchin'\nMe nah care about dem dibby MC, my shit is hittin'\nTrini gladiator, anti-hesitater\nShaheed push the fader from here to Grenada\nMr. Energetic, who me sound pathetic?\nWhen's the last time you heard a funky diabetic?\nI don't know, man, I don't know, man, I don't know, man\nI don't know, I don't know (Uh)\nYou might also like\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\n\nComplementary are we, the three for poetry\nI got a humdinger comin' hook, line and sinker\nThe Timbo hoofs with the prints on the ground\nTimbo's on the toes, I like the way it's goin' down\nDown like a lady of the evening\nWhen it goes in Toots, just believe it's in\n'Cause Queens is the county (Uh), Jamaica is the place (What?)\nTake off your cleats, 'cause you can't run the race\n(Race, race, race, race, race)\n\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God, yes! Oh, my God!\nThe title MC means Master of Ceremony\nSome people who emcee don't know what this term means"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsButter Lyrics\n-gy\n\n1988 senior year at Garvey High\nWhere all the guys were corny but the girls were mad fly\nLounging with the Tipster, cooling with Sha\nScoping out the honeys\u2014they know who they are\nI was the b-ball playing, fly rhyme saying\nFly girl getting but never was I sweating\n'Cause when it came to honeys I would go on a stroll\nUntil I met my match\u2014her name was Flo\nYeah, I messed around with the one called Flo\nAll the troopers 'round the way used to call her a ho\nBut deep down in my heart I knew that Flo was good to go\n'Cause I thought it was me like Bell Biv Devoe\nBut little did I know that she was playing with my mind\nThe only thing I learned is good girls are hard to find\nI feel like Heavy D, I need somebody for me\nNot someone whose mind is blank and tryna juice me for my banks\nSwinging with my main man Lucky behind my back\nWhat type of crap is that\u2014yo, how's about a smack?\nWord life, I can't front, thought I was all that\nBut now it seems, I've met my match\nI was a stone cold lover, you couldn't tell me jack\nSettling down with one girl, wasn't trying to hear that\nI had Tonya, Tamika, Sharon, Karen\nTina, Stacy, Julie, Tracy\nUsed to love 'em, leave 'em, skeeze 'em, tease 'em\nFind 'em, lose 'em - also abuse 'em\nMy whole attitude was new day, next hon\nAnd believe it or not, they all got done\nWell here comes Flo with the crazy whip appeal\nAnd I'm all true man like Alexander O'Neal\nIs this really love, then again how would I know\nAfter all this time trying to be a super ho\nShe finally played me, but yo I'd find another\n'Cause I got the crazy game and yo, I'm smooth like butter\nYou might also like\nAyo, it's like butter, it's like butter baby\nIt's like butter, it's like butter baby\nIt's like butter, it's like butter baby\nIt's like butter, it's like butter baby\nIt's like butter, it's like butter baby\nIt's like butter, like the butter baby\nNot no Parkay, not no margarine\nStrictly butter, strictly butter, baby\n\nI remember when girls were goodie two shoes but now they turned to freaks\nAll of a sudden (we love you Phife!) ease off ho, my name's Malik\nPhife this, Phife that, where you going, where you at\nThese girls don't know me from jack, yet I feel like the Mack\nYou didn't want me then, so yo hon, don't want me now\nHere, Here - take the towel, wipe off your brow\nAnd take the contact out your eye, you're far from looking fly\nYou get an E for effort, and T for nice try\nNow tell me what's the reason, for dying your hair\nSlum village gold still dangling in your ear\nYou barely have a neck but still sporting a rope\nFour-finger ring just so Phifer can scope\nYou looked in the mirror, didn't know what to do\nYesterday your eyes were brown but today they are blue\nYour whole appearance is a lie and it could never be true\nAnd if you really liked yourself then you would try and be you\nIf your hair and eyes were real, I wouldn't have dissed ya\nBut since it was bought, I had to dismiss ya\nBut if you can't achieve it, then why not try and weave it\nIf you can't extend it then you might as well suspend it\nIf you can't braid it, best thing to do is fade it\nI asked who did your hair and you tell me, \"Diane made it\"\nIf you were you and just you, talk to you, maybe\nBut I can't stand, no bionic lady\nTrying hard to look fly, but yo, you're looking dumber\nIf I wanted someone like you I would've swung with Jaime Sommers\nYou wanna be treated right, see Father MC\nOr check Ralph Tresvant, for sensitivity\n'Cause I am not the one, I got more game than Parker Brothers\nPhife Dawg is on the mic and I'm smooth like butter"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsSucka Nigga Lyrics\n\"Hey, sucka nigga, whoever you are\"\n\"Hey, sucka nigga, whoever you are\"\n\"Hey, sucka nigga, hey, sucka nigga\"\n\"Whoever you are, whoever you are\"\nI be hatin' sucka MC's, and the sucka niggas\nPosin' like they hard when we know they damn card\nWhat ya figure? Rhyme-wise, I do the figure-eight so concisely\nMusically, we are the herb so sit back and light me\n*Inhalation noise* Inhale... (Inhale...)\nMy style is kinda phat, reminiscent of a whale\nYoung girls desires older female dreams\nI be the Abstract Poetic representin' from Queens\nSocially, I'm not inane, black and white got game\nIf you came to the jam, well, I'm glad you came\nSee, \"nigga\" first was used back in the Deep South\nFallin' out between the dome of the white man's mouth\nIt means that we will never grow; you know the word, dummy\nUpper niggas in the community think it's crummy\nBut I don't, neither does the youth 'cause we em-\nBrace adversity it goes right with the race\nAnd bein' that we use it as a term of endearment\nNiggas start to bug, to the dome is where the fear went\nNow the little shorties say it all of the time\nAnd a whole bunch of niggas throw the word in they rhyme\nYo, I start to flinch, as I try not to say it\nBut my lips is like a oowop as I start to spray it\nMy lips is like a oowop as I start to spray it\nMy lips is like a oowop as I start to spray the..\nYou might also like\nThe sucka niggas, nigga nigga\nI throw the sucka in the front for the ones that front\nThe sucka niggas, nigga nigga\nI throw the sucka in the front for the ones that front\nThe sucka niggas, nigga nigga\nI throw the sucka in the front for the ones that front\nIt's the neo-nigga of the '90s, c'mon!\n\nI be hatin' sucka MC's, and the sucka niggas\nPosin' like they hard when we know they damn card\nWhat ya figure? Rhyme-wise, I do the figure-eight so concisely\nMusically, we are the herb so sit back and light me\n*Inhalation noise* Inhale... (Inhale...)\nMy style is kinda phat, reminiscent of a whale\nYoung girls desires for the females dreams\nI be the Abstract Poetic representin' from Queens\nSocially, I'm not a name, black and white got game\nIf you came to the jam, well, I'm glad you came\nSee, nigga first was used down in the Deep South\nFallin' out between the dome of the white man's mouth\nIt means that we will never grow, you know the word, dummy\nUpper niggas in the community think it's crummy\nBut I don't, neither does the youth 'cause we em-\nBrace adversity it goes right with the race\nYo, I start to flinch as I try not to say it\nBut my lips is like a oowop as I start to spray it\nMy lips is like a oowop as I start to spray it\nMy lips is like a oowop.. yo, you know the rest\nThe sucka niggas, niggas niggas\nI throw the sucka in the front for the ones that front\nThe sucka niggas, nigga nigga\nI throw the suckas in the front for the ones that front\nThe sucka niggas, nigga nigga\nI throw the sucka in the front for the ones that front\nSucka niggas, nigga nigga\n\nA-yo, Shaheed, take us the fuck outta here!\nYou're not any less of a man, if you don't pull the trigger\nYou're not necessarily a man, if you do"}
{"text":"97 ContributorsThe Killing Season Lyrics\nWinter in America, never knew white Christmas\n'Cause L7 squares always making my shit list\nSpring is in the air and all the flowers are blooming\nThe powers that be wanna devour the movement\nTears disappear when they fall on the summer rain\nBleedin' through this mic, but they call it entertainment\nRunning across stages is a drug\nIs like a blunt that we crumble in raw papers\nCall it the lord\u2019s name 'cause we taking it in our veins\nLike the feeding us intravenous\nIt\u2019s war and we fighting for inches and millimeters\nThey try to stall the progress by killing off all the leaders\nIf we don\u2019t give them martyrs no more, they can\u2019t defeat us\nThis lack of justice got us disgusted, look at our faces\nAll these soldiers hate but I saw military training\nThe false flags fly at a half mast this morning\nTake a bow, this might be your last performance\n\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nYou might also like\nThe old lady saw us on the lawn with the Henny\nTurn the pool party into the one from McKinney\nMight've been racist like the waitresses up in Denny\u2019s\nSwore we had twelve gauges, automatics, and semis\nNow they wanna condemn me for my freedom of speech\n'Cause I see things in black and white like Lisa and Screech\nPresidents get impeached and others fill in the throne\nBut veterans don\u2019t get the benefit of feelin' at home\nSo maybe those projections out at Silicon\nAre what drove her to get injections made of silicone\nI swear it\u2019s the killing season\n'Cause killin' is still in season, yeah\nLouder than a three pound, voices screaming mad to boot\nIt must be killing season, on the menu strangefruit\nWhose juices fill the progress of this here very nation\nWhose states has grown bitter through justice expiration\nThese fruitful trees are rooted in bloody soil and torment\nThings haven\u2019t really changed\nOr they're dormant for the moment\nMarks and scars, we own it, only makes for tougher skin\nHelps us actualize the actual greatness held within\nBeen on the wrong team so much, can\u2019t recognize a win\nSeems like my only crime is having melanin\nConnection to the sun so strong the relationship is lusted for\nCauses men to suffocate, I can\u2019t breathe no more\nSettle the score sadly, need an abacus to tally\nThrough all the peaks and valleys, yo, I recognize it sadly\nBlack soul bold enough, inner city cold enough\nWatch me get all my goons, watch us get soldiered up\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya\nThey sold ya, sold ya, sold ya"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsWhateva Will Be Lyrics\nGirl, this motherfucker's got rhythm\n\nSay am I 'posed to be dead or doin' life in prison?\nJust another dummy caught up in the system\nUnruly hooligan who belongs in Spofford\nVerse getting that degree at Stanford or Harvard\nThreatened by my work ethic, the way I speak, yo\nShould I be mentally weak, verse being Malik? Yo\nShould I be trapped in the trap? Would you prefer that?\nFourth grade reading level but he knows how to rap\nAre you amused by our struggles? The English that's broken?\nThe weed that I'm smokin'? The guns that I'm totin'?\nThe drugs that I'm sellin'? No need for improvement\nFuck you and who you think I should be, forward movement\n\nMelanated shrouded in complexity\nBrain charge shocking like 'lectricity\nMouth translate happens organically\nThe media relates it what it thinks it sees\nJudging steps in shoes of a path they never walked\nShot down in a blaze of a phrases is how they talk\nDark skinned, walk with a bot portrayed villain\nI'm chillin', felon down to the DNA crime willin'\nSubliminate their youth, hyper-sexualize their women\nThey ain't got the strong enough hold, so they built the prisons\nPumping false religions to all of these niggas' systems\nEvery voice devoid of the truth\nCome on, listen\nYou might also like\nMan look at this, man look at this\nWhatever will be will be\nLike a billionaire investin' in a nigga's dreams\nCertainly a head scratcher, like Pac and Big's killers' capture\nOr a women with the wisdom who's leadin' the way\nThe rarity is in the rear, but never today\nMan, picture a PD lettin' good records play\nOn the strength of what it is, not the finesse of your biz\nAnd your lady calls you dirty, her dirts under rugs\nYou'll find out only if she tells you, take her kiss and hug, cuz\nIn the answer for cancer in a prodigious kid's mind\nYes, the government will fund, learning is free for everyone\nAnd from that lie, young leaders will rise\nIn the eyes of despair and adversity\nIn some universe, this verse will be true\n\nEverybody runnin' when they see the storm's comin'\nBut whatever's gonna be will be\nEverybody runnin' when they see the storm's comin'\nBut whatever's gonna be will be\nSome will dash to the mountain, some will crawl\nAnd the weakest amongst them, they will fall\nBut the strongest in faith, they will stand tall\nEverybody runnin' when they see the storm's comin'\nBut whatever's gonna be will be\nI just wanna feel as liberated as lions in Liberia\n'Cause recently my heart turned cold as Siberia\n'Cause everywhere I go, bein' cold is the criteria\nLet's see how well you know all your Tribe trivia\nGreen and the white, we servin' that Nigeria\nNorth side of Queens, one-nine-two is the area\nThis is for my dawgs from Shih Tzus to Terriers\nFuck it, it's showtime, Tip, make sure they hearing you"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsSteve Biko (Stir it Up) Lyrics\nLinden Boulevard \u2014 represent, represent-sent\nTribe Called Quest \u2014 represent, represent-sent\nWhen the mic is in my hand, I'm never hesitant\nMy favorite jam back in the day was \"Eric B. for President\"\n\nRude boy composer, step to me, you're over\nBrothers wanna flex, you're not Mad Cobra\nMC short and black, there ain't no other\nTrini-born lad like Nia Long's grandmother\nTip and Sha \u2014 they all that, Phife Dawg \u2014 ditto\nHoney, tell your man to chill, or else you'll be a widow\nDid not you know that my styles are top-dollar?\nThe Five-Foot Assassin knocking fleas off his collar\nHip hop scholar since being knee high to a duck\nThe height of Muggsy Bogues, complexion of a hockey puck\nYou better ask somebody on how we flip the script\nCome to a Tribe show and watch the three kids rip\n\nQueens is in the house \u2014 represent, represent-sent\nA Tribe Called Quest \u2014 represent, represent-sent\nNo taming of the style 'cause it gets irreverent\nA Tribe Called Quest \u2014 represent, represent-sent\nHuh-huh, here we go, you know that I'm the rebel\nThrowing out the wicked like God did the Devil\nFunky like your grandpa's drawers, don't test me\nWe in like that, you're dead like Presley\nWhen we coming through, get tickets to see me\nWe work for the paper, so there'll never be a freebie\nLyrics are abundant 'cause we got it by the mass\nEgos are all idle 'cause the music is the task\nValenzuela on the pitch, curveball, catch it\nI think I got it locked, just smooth while I latch it\nRight, now I must move with the quickness\nHere comes Shaheed, so we must bear the witness\nYou might also like\nStir it up! Stir it up! Stir it up!\nSteve Biko\nStir it up! Stir it up! Stir it up!\nSteve Biko\n\nNew York City \u2014 represent, represent\nA Tribe Called Quest \u2014 represent, represent-sent\nThe Dawg is scientific with the styles I invent\nA Tribe Called Quest \u2014 represent, represent-sent\nMC's like to meddle, but here's my proposition\nI let my lyrics flow, and juxt your whole position\nI'm radical with this like the man this song is after (*laughing*)\nYo, Tip, settle down, what's the reason for the laughter?\nI really can't say, I guess I laugh to keep from crying\nSo much going on, people killing, people dying\nBut I won't dwell on that, I think I'll elevate my mental\nThanks for these bars on the Biko instrumental\nYo, I'll take it back, I'm the Indian giver\nMC's take notes as I stand and deliver (Word)\nPercussion isn't less (Uh), D's wear the vest (What?)\nWhy they dodging bullets? (What?) You should be dodging Quest (Uh, uh)\nDon't get me wrong, violence is not our fort\u00e9\nI just like to rhyme, kick the lyric skills like Pel\u00e9\nTip, educate 'em, my rhymes are strictly taboo\nFill 'em with some fantasies and I'll look out like Tattoo\nOkay, I am recognizing that the voice inside my head\nIs urging me to be myself, but never follow someone else\nBecause opinions are like voices, we all have a different kind\nSo just clean out all of your ears, these are my views and you will find\nThat we revolutionize over the kick and the snare\nThe ghetto vocalist is on a state-wide tear\nSoon to be the continent and then the freaking globe\nThere's room for it all as we mingle at the mall\nWe welcome competition 'cause it doesn't make one lazy or worn\nWe gotta work hard, you know the damn card\nTry to be the phattest is the level that we strive\nTry to be the phattest also to stay alive"}
{"text":"84 ContributorsMelatonin Lyrics\nI said I rarely dream in color but (they don't know)\nAnd every brother ain't a brother but (they don't know)\nPop melatonin like they Swedish Fish (they don't know)\nTo give her everything's my dying wish (they don't know)\nRole play, she plays the mannequin (they don't know)\nRaising my hand, teacher says \"Not again\" (they don't know)\nThe sun is up, but I feel down again (they don't know)\nOn just one hand, I can count all my friends (they don't know)\n\nThe understudy for the star, the show must go on\nI'm a beast on a leash, I'm towed from the lawn\nAnother notch in my belt, the food's getting scarce\nAnother notch in my belt, she shakes up the stairs\nDrink liquid confidence, tequila's our defense\nGet rid of this tense and makes life make sense\nAs I come off the fence and break through defense\nAnxiety is on the ropes and it's gettin' intense\n\nPopulation gettin' tired now (they don't know)\nEverybody wants inspired now (they don't know)\nRacist emails fire out (they don't know)\nWe did it in the dark, it's coming out (they don't know)\nThe world is crazy and I cannot sleep but (they don't know)\nMelatonin good enough to eat but (they don't know)\nI read the paper so that I can see what (they don't know)\nI'd rather stay indoors and make a beat but (they don't know)\nYou might also like\nMy mother said a lot of wise words to me\nHer Bible was like her toolie, peasy-headed and unruly\nI made her think she got to me\nFollowing the trail of reefer\nAnd niggas talking through speakers\nFattest laces through my sneakers\nThe rappers ere ghetto preachers\nThought I had it so I tried it, for so long I would just hide it\nThen I made the crowds say \"Hoo!\"\nAnd saw them all get excited\nI was hooked, I couldn't shake it\nThe more I got, I would take it\nCouldn't sleep andcouldn't eat\nBut this life, I would not forsake it\n\nI said I really dream in color now (they don't know)\nAnd every brother ain't a brother now (they don't know)\nPop melatonin like they Swedish Fish (they don't know)\nTo give her everything my dying wish (they don't know)\n\nSo many thoughts in my mind making it very hard to unwind\nI guess I should take one, just one\nSo many thoughts in my mind making it very hard to unwind\nI guess I should take one, just one\nSo many thoughts in my mind making it very hard to unwind\nI guess I should take one, just one\nSo many thoughts in my mind making it very hard to unwind\nI guess I should take one, just one\nThis one's for good girls that all gone bad (just one)\nThis one I'm taking when I feel sad (just one, yeah)\nThis one I'm taking to make me strong (just one)\nThis one I'm taking so that I'll live long (just one, yeah)\nThis one I'm taking to make me smile (just one)\nThis one I'm taking to make life worthwhile (just one)\nThis one and that one and those and these (just one)\nI just want to sleep, I want to be at ease (just one)"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsVerses from the Abstract Lyrics\nI had a dream about my man last night\nAnd my man came by the studio\nAnd his name is...\n\nBusta Rhymes in effect\nShaheed is in effect\nPhife Did-awg is in effect\nCheck it out and give me my 'spect\n\nI'm moving, yes I'm grooving cause my mouth is on the motor\nUse the Coast in the morning to avoid the funky odor\nCan't help being funky, I'm the funky Abstract brother\nFunky in a sense, but I play the undercover\nOnce had a fetish, fetish for some booty\nNow I'm getting funky in my rap and that's my duty\nBrothers tend to jock on the style in particular\nIf you got the ego like some brothers then I'll get with ya\nBut if I don't pursue, then I just don't give a (fuck)\nMy motto in the 90's is be happy making bucks\nGirls love the jim, cos it causes crazy friction\nWhen it goes up in and fluctuates the diction\nI still understand the oomph cause that's what I met her for\nI'm hooked on the swing, so just call me the music whore\nWomen love the voice, brothers dig the lyrics\nQuest the people's choice, we driving for the spirit\nIf you can't hear it, then get the wax utensil\nWrite my rhymes straight up, don't give it no fancy stencil\nThe rhymes be getting sweet, we stay away from tart\nA perfectionist at work, perking up the art\nIf you want to battle, I suggest you check your clock\nYour demise is coming up and I want your man to watch\nBe the prime example, or deeper still the sample\nInsignificance, here I'll place you on the mantle\nBorn up in Harlem, reside down in Jamaica\nThe girl I used to rock, her moms was a Quaker\nNow what does that make her? The evil money taker?\nThe crazy move faker, I use that to break her\nYou might also like\nPhife is in the house (ooohh, you know you got going on)\nUncle Mike is in the house (this ain't a R&B song)\nBob Power is in the house (you got it going on)\nTim Latham is in the house (and on and on and on)\nWise Men is in the house\nThe Brand Nubes is in the house\nThe J Beez, they in the house\nAnd De La, they in the house\n\nI must regroup my thoughts and kick the next ones for my people\nPlease don't be deceived by the ugly slice of evil\nThe world is kinda cold and the rhythm is my blanket\nWrap yourself up in it, if you love it, then you'll thank it\nDon't move to rebuttal, wave your hand for action\nSome women in the 90's want more than satisfaction\nThey want keys and Gs, and all those illy things\nIf you want to, I'll show you, just what the Ab can bring\nI keep a tight net with my brothers Ken and Kenny\nIf the question is of rhymes, then I'll tell ya, I got plenty\nThe thing that men and women need to do is stick together\nProgressions can't be made if we're separate forever\nI hooked this funky beat with the loop and the feature\nThis the funky singing by Miss Vinia Mojica\nSo listen because the Quest is led through the underground\nMy people have been oppressed too long, no more will we be down\nPeople tend to riff cause they don't know the mental\nPeople tend to bug cause the beats are hard but gentle\nAfricano lurks through the body of this youngun'\nPlay like Bobby Byrd on your back and you're coming to\nThe house of the jazz, of the funk, of the rhythm\nAll the goods are welcome, but if you're a villain\nI'll just wait and debate, contemplate your arrival\nIf flexing is your motive, then you don't like survival\nThe Abstract is speaking, the hard beats is reaching\nTo Black and Puerto Ricans cause they're butt naked streaking\nThrough the ever murky streets of the urbanized areas\nBlasting out the speakers is the hip hop hysteria\nCraig is in the house (ooohh, you know you got going on)\nPete Rock is in the house (this ain't a R&B song)\nCL is in the house (you got it going on)\nUltramag is in the house (and on and on and on)\nNice and Smooth is in the house\nBig Daddy Kane is in the house\nBeatnuts is in the house\nSpecial Ed is in the house\n\nYeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah\nAnd this one goes out to my man\nThanks a lot Ron Carter on the bass\nYes my man Ron Carter is on the bass\nAnd check it out, going into the '91 decade\nUp in until the 2000 decade\nYou gotta say the Quest is on\nAnd goddamn it, yes the Quest is on\nAnd we out!"}
{"text":"63 Contributors8 Million Stories Lyrics\nWent to Carvel to get a milkshake\nThis honey ripped me off for all my loot cakes\nThe car oh yeah there's money in my jacket\nSomebody broke into my ride and cold macked it\nYo, Tip, I tell you, man, the devil's tryin' it\nBut I'm gonna stay strong 'cause I ain't buyin' it\nTonight, I'm takin' Sherry out, I don't have jack to wear\nYou know I gots to look dipped in the fresh new gear\nCool, I found somethin' so I ironed it\nI then got caught up on the phone, oh, shit, I'm fryin' it\nWill someone tell me what did I do to deserve this?\nI think I'll, pull out my suit for Sunday service\nMy little brother wants Barney \u2014 cool, I'm gettin' it\nTook him down to Kay-Bee, they ain't sellin' it\nHere we go with the cryin', yo, he's throwin' fits\nMy blood pressure's blowin' up, I can't take the shit\nFinally got what he wanted, now he's good to go\nAgain the ride was smashed, where's my radio?\nOne time, the car was in the shop I had to borrow, see...\nThey had no mercy on the car, Lyor will kill me\nWhere the hell can Nicki be? I'm gonna smack her up\nI got the tickets for the Knicks and she cold stood me up\nI need to hit a honey off, Jarobi pass the phone\nPulled out my book of hoes \u2014 oh, yo, Sheila's home\nSteady smilin' like a mother, yo, I'm read' to bone\nWent down on hun, she's in the red zone\nStressed out more than anyone could ever be\nForever tryin' to clear the samples for my new LP\nEverybody knows I go to Georgia often\nGot on the flight and I ended up in Boston\nWith all these trials and tribulations, yo, I've been affected\nAnd to top it off, Starks got ejected\nYou might also like\n(Help me out) Problems\n(Help me out) Problems\n(Help me out) Problems\nLord, it's me, I'm havin' problems\n(Help me out) Problems\n(Help me out) Problems\n(Help me out) Problems\n\nJust last week, my girl was stressin' me\nNow her best friend be undressin' me\nWell, I was lovin' her by the moon ray\nNow I'm trickin' on her like Kinte' (C'mon)\nBought a bag of izm from the smoke shop\nWalkin' towards the car, here come the damn cops\nNow I'm station bound for the Thai sticks\nI bought it for my man, I don't believe this shit\nCoach sat me down from the ball team\n'Cause I was breakin' niggas on the inseams\nSome niggas 'cross town was tryin' to stick me\nAll I had was shorts, a dollar-fifty\nPicked up this girl in the hooptie\nJust because I rhyme she tried to soup me\nPay for this, pay for that, loot for nails and hair\nWho the hell you think I am, Mr. Belvedere?\nGo and get a bloody job, then can we locute\nEven if you give me boots, you'll never see my loot\nShe wasn't even all of that, just another hooker\nSo I turned that ass away quick like Chuckii Booker\nSometimes you gotta put the hoes in their friggin' place\nJust move from in front me with your batty face!\nProblems, problems, problems\nLord knows I'm havin' problems, problems, problems\nJesus Christ I'm havin' problems, problems, problems\nPray for me I'm havin' problems, problems, problems\n\nYeah\nYeah\nJust lay down your burdens by the riverside\nHah, and you'll be alright, know what I'm sayin'?\nLove and peace from Phife for '93, know what I'm sayin'?\nTribe Called Quest, Shaheed and Tip\nThis is how we flip\nMy man Muhammad in the house, huh (come on, come on)\nZulu Nation in the house, huh (come on, come on)\nSubroc is in the house, huh (come on, come on)\nMy man Skeff in the house, huh (come on, come on)\nJarobi White is in the house, huh (come on, come on)\nBob Power in the house, huh (come on, come on)\nMy man Eric in the house, huh (come on, come on)\nMy man Litro in the house, huh (come on, come on)\n\nHelp me out y'all, help me out now\nHelp me out y'all, help me out now\nHelp me out God, I really need ya\nHelp me out now, I really need ya\nHelp me out y'all, help me out now\nI'm having problems, help me out now\nReally need ya, to help me out now\nHelp me out y'all, help me out now\nHelp me out y'all, help me out now\nHelp me out y'all, help me out now\nHelp me out God, I really need ya\nHavin' problems, help me out now\nHelp me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me\nHelp me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me\nMuhammad!"}
{"text":"40 ContributorsGeorgie Porgie Lyrics\nListen up money or should I say honey\nListen up money or should I say honey\n\nIn the beginning, there was Adam and Eve\nBut some try to make it look like Adam and Steve\nLike Georgie, why can't money find a honey\nI couldn't believe when I found out he was funny\nYou know fierce with just his right ear pierced\nI couldn't hack it, I knew this brother for years\nWalking in the ville with them long dreadlocks\nBut on the DL, getting done up the butt box\nOh my God how gross can one be\nWell anyway, better him than me\nUsed to be down with the crew and had the girls that were def\nInstead of staying to the right, he fell off to the left\nSo Lord J being that you go next\nPull the rest of his card cause I'm vexed\nMy man George got a germ that's ill\nSuffering from terminal scag\nBut never ever getting caught walking like a fag\nThat's not his bag cause the plague was afraid to parade in drag\nSo instead he played the DL, brothers get jel\nCause honey's on his dick but money won't swell\nHe'd rather call Manuel for a little duel\nHave a swordfight with tools\nHe's wounded and I can't understand\nWhy a man would want to be a weak cipher man\nI thought the plan was to be hard as a rock\nNot riding a jock, sucking on a cock\nYou might also like\nListen up money or should I say honey\nListen up money or should I say honey\nListen up money or should I say honey\nListen up money or should I say honey\n\nMy man George I thought he was on base\nFind out later that he was a closet case\nWoah, woah, he's a sweet thing\nGeorge was down with the titty titty bang bang\nNow George swung with gays, just the way he sways\nEven fooled around with his mom's lingerie\nCome get it girl, something fierce was his line\nEven wore a dress and on his face he had swine\nHe cipher monkey cipher, you fucking faggot\nCouldn't wait for gay parade so you can drag it\nGeorge used to flip, went from hitting skins to sucking nigga's dick\nGeorge better get a grip\n\nNow Georgie used to run with the ill brothers\nKids who liked to rob mothers, and do a bunch of crazy things\nHe had the ladies, a baby, a shiny black .380\nThat he always kept tucked and filled with the slugs\nNow watch how money bugs\nWeight fell it's hard to tell but believe me George has slid\nComing out the closet was the dress that he hid\nFrom the boys when we was over there I seen it out the corner of my eye\nI said damn Georgie George signify\nThe whole crew seen it now the whole block knows\nThat George gets his kicks from wearing Wisdom's clothes\nNow Georgie Porgie pudding pie\nWhat made you choose the path of the gays, oh why\nAin't got no reason, to hell with alibis\nWon't play basketball cause your nails ain't dry\nCall me homophobic but I know it and you know it\nYou're filthy and funny to the utmost exponent\nNever will I do that, disrespect my mommy\nSo run and hide your salami\nUsed to, didn't you, used to be my man\nInstead of shaking, you're dragging your hand\nYes it's the Abstract the info provider\nHere's your new name - the rump rider\n\nListen up money or should I say honey\nListen up money or should I say honey\nListen up money or should I say honey\nListen up money or should I say honey\nListen up money or should I say honey\nListen up money or should I say honey"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsThe Infamous Date Rape Lyrics\nClassic\u2014\nClassic\u2014\nClassic example of a (a date rape)\nClassic example of a (a date rape)\nClassic example of a (a date rape)\nClassic example of a (a date rape)\n\nListen to the rhyme, it's a black-ink fact\nPercentile rate of date rape is fat\nThis is all due to the reason of the skeezin\nYou got the right pickin but you're in the wrong season\nIf you're in the wrong season, that means you gotta break\nEspecially if a squaw tries to cry out rape\nYou be all vexed 'cause she got it goin' on\nYou don't wanna fight 'cause you know that you're wrong\nSo instead you rest your head on the arm of the couch\nEnvision in your head of a great sex bout\nWorthy opponent, all you wanna do is bone it\nYou ask can you kick it, she says you can't stick it\nThis is the case, the situation is sticky\nShould you try to kiss or hint towards a hickey?\nNot even, you can ask Steven\nIf the vibe ain't right, huh, ya leavin\nHit the road Jack and all of that\nBut if she offers her abode, you'll drop ya load\nRight smack dab in the middle\nGet the kitten, I got crazy tender vittles\nYou might also like\nUh-huh, you know the science; you get buckwild\nRunnin' mad games as if your name was Scott Skiles\nOr better yet Magic or even Karl Malone\nRegardless who it is, your aim is to bone\nIf she tries to front, that's when you start to diss her\nIf she's with the program, that's when you start to kiss her\nMight as well get to the point, no time to waste\nMight as well break the ice, then set the pace\nYou start to talk nasty, now she's ready to bone\nStep out of the shower, throw on cologne\nAll of a sudden, her sugarwalls tumble down like Jericho\nShe's hotter than Meshach, Shadrach and Abednego\nYou listen to After 7, break fool after 10\nDo your thing at 12 o'clock and when you go again\nThere goes round 1, ding, there goes round two\nNow tell me what the (fuck) are you supposed to do? Huh\nWhat do you know, when the meow is completed\nGirly girl cried rape, yo, I didn't really need it\n\nSweetheart, we ain't goin' out like that\nSweetheart, we ain't goin' out like that\nSweetheart, we ain't goin' out like that (Zulu)\nWe ain't goin' out like that (Zulu)\nWe ain't goin' out like that\nNow baby bust it, if you wanna groove\nMe and you can do it, it will be the move\nI won't cry over spilled milk\nIf you won't let me take you to the Hilt\nI don't wanna bone you that much\nThat I would go for the unforbidden touch\nI'm not the type that would go for that\nI'll have to fetch a brand new cat\nBaby, baby, baby I don't wanna be rude\nBut I know because of your bloody attitude\nI know why you act that way\nIt usually happens on the 28th day\nI respect that crazily\nWhen you're done with the pads can you come check me?\nThis ain't a joint to disrespect you\nBecause one head ain't better than two\nCheck it out, it's a-\n\nClassic example of a (a date\u2014)"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsMovin Backwards Lyrics\nI hope my legendary style of rap lives on\nA-fixed to the Earth like my feet, they got cleats on\nI'm moving backwards, never that was never the plan\nPushing shit along, render stillness in the quick sand\nAsphalt jumpin', junkie lyrical, concrete\nMy Jedi mind be moving me\nThroughout the many dark streets\nBackwoods, boondocks, whatever terrain\nAuf Wiedersehen, Aloha, man our feet ain't the same\nI won't abuse these shoes, these shoes ain't made for reversing\nThen trudging through these motherfuckers' first album Footprinting, never ever ghostwritten, yo' shit free, bitten\nGrab my shit with both hands, iron grip, steel mitten\nBloviated, Jarobi ate it and now it's gone\nClosed mouths don't get fed or move ahead\nTo my hustlers with customers, scam my chicks just being petty\nTrap lords with the fetty, don't be no backwards, no\nNo backward ass nigga, don't be no backwards, no\nNo backward ass nigga, don't be no backwards, no\nNo backward ass nigga, don't be no backwards, no\nDon't do it, nigga\n\nI spun around without a care\nWhen I stopped, I felt lost\nI'm two heels from the top tier\nReally want to be boss\nI figured it out, figured it out somewhere\nMaybe the answer's not out there\nMaybe it's on the ground somewhere\nWhen I stopped, I felt lost\nDo you ever feel lost?\nYou might also like\nThey wanna see my downfall\nTurn a good day into a downpour\nThorns in the crown hit the cross I bear\nWhy they wanna see me hangin' like a towel somewhere\nOne eye, two bills, three tears, a heart still\nHow I'm feelin' in my mind right here\nThink I'm moving, I ain't going nowhere, nowhere\nMaybe why I feel lost, yeah\nHow I'm 'posed to know how home feels?\nI ain\u2019t even on my home field\nAnd again I feel lost\nWas not a cruise that brought us here, again I feel lost\nAnd I refuse to be stuck right here, yeah\nI don't want to move backwards, no\nSomebody just give me\nSomebody just give me\nSomebody just give me direction?\nI don't want to move backwards, no\nSomebody just give me\nSomebody just give me\nSomebody just give me directions?\nI don't want to move backwards, no\n\nMoving backwards never, that was never the plan\nCan I vent? I was content being my own man\nUp until that night ill-fated, walking home I was faded\nPo puts braces on my wrist like he was clapping his hands\nHow demeaning, y'all? Who could be blind to racism?\nBring bro bro to me for the brotherly baptism\nInstead of slaps, give him the dose of Ab wisdom\nHe'll make it out of the jungle some way\nHey, it's figurative, not a real place you stay\nAy, it's mind state filled with muck and malaise\nUh, I got direction without using Waze\nSubmitting myself to praying these days\nYeah, moonwalking backwards, it's only for stage\nFeds lining up, in riot gear\nAnd everybody's hands in the air\nFour-five so get your ass found somewhere\nCaught between hope and despair\nSay it loud, what it take to make my niggas listen\nSomebody just give me\nSomebody just give me\nSomebody just give me\nCool out, chill out nigga, I'm cool\nCool out nigga, nah, nigga I'm through\nHead down, ain't no tellin' what you gon' do\n(Somebody just give me\u2014\nSomebody just give me\u2014\nSomebody just give me direction\nI don't want to move backwards, no\nCops killing us niggas everywhere\nMaybe we should get some guns too)\nShe come around every now and a few\n(Man, I hope she really loves you)\nLiving high ain't hard to do\n(She'll be in the clouds somewhere\nFeeling fresh, I strut your bitches out of here\nMight even take your broad too\nOops, I'm 'bout to get kicked out here\nTell mama I'mma slide through)\nStealer, I'm trying to get out of here\nBut stuck up in the same room\n(Too many open miles in here\nSick of eating out at drive through)\nHahaha, look at this motherfucker"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsEnough!! Lyrics\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough?\nEnough, enough, enough\n\nYo, I'm savant with the game\nGon' tell Robi yo' name\nProvide words that's heard, setting your body aflame\nOoh, you off the chain, I'm handling your terrain\nYour valley h-has me standing down to the follicle\n'Bout half of this bottle full of reasons for us to ball\nPalming violations and travel vacation, ma\nLace your fancy bra, gon' take them vestments off\nSkin and my lips involved, I'm licking a place that's soft\nJedi\n\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough love that I give to you?\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough time that I give to you?\nIs this enough?\nTell me that you feel the same way I do\nIs this enough?\nEnough, enough, enough\nYou might also like\nIs it an issue if I make you nut?\nBut there's no quality time 'cause I forever grind\nThis is not an excuse, I just wanna get loose\nThat's old nigga jargon, girl, you're making me hardened\nTo a stone or granite statue, I'm prone to get at you\nIt's hard to break your defense, I guess I have to leap fence\nOr scale wall, and break fall on a tree right by your window\nReward me for my efforts by rolling this indo\nAs I nibble your neck naughtily, sex is a big part of me\nAgencies want to audit me, searching, snooping for sodomy\nMy thrust bust artery, I know you're on to me\nJust wanna have shenanigan\nDon't wanna make you mad again\nSo focus on the flattery you feel when I fling it\nAcknowledge that I got it and you love it when I bring it\nDirty talk loud but they saying, \"Fuck the shit out of me\"\nAt the Queen's request, if it's gotta be, it's gotta be\n\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough love that I give to you?\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough time that I give to you?\nIs this enough?\nTell me that you feel the same way I do\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough love that I give to you?\nIs this enough?\nIs this enough time that I give to you?\nIs this enough?\nTell me that you feel the same way I do\nIs this enough?"}
{"text":"81 ContributorsMobius Lyrics\nI break bread, ribs, hundred dollar bills\nDream about Bugattis and other four-wheels\nThey say Illuminati and other ordeals\nIs how my lawyer got me to avoid a raw deal\nAnd now it's more real than it is for any other star\nAnd that's enough to have you tearing up the mini-bar\nI should probably get awards where the Emmys are\nFor how I deal with the pap like Remy Ma\nI get in the car like a sniper's on the roof now\nBut don't confuse how you see me have to move now\nI got bars like a cypher's in the booth now\nOoh, child, things are gonna get easier\n'Long as they get my page right on Wikipedia\n'Long as they say my name right in the media\nIf you don't, that's a sin like Cincinnati\n'Cause ever since I had the polo suit at the Grammys\nI been spittin' at the camera like Trick Daddy\nSo swaggy, he could've broke up with IG\nI ain't surprised that they broke up on IG\nI got the game on IV, might as well have a live feed\nKeep a fresh cut from IB\nSo I always match the picture in my ID\nThey packin' Dub C had ran with Mack 10\nI was still a baby Similac then\nAnd what the crack era did to black men\nIt had to be an error if you had a Cadillac then\nYou might also like\nHow I rock mine, I throw it up\nMakin' sure that you niggas all are on the same page\nPowerful force, you better look both ways\nFuck that, I'm chokin' niggas, it's goin' down\nI'm from a different cloth, we the oracles of the sounds\nSkip town, hit 'em with impeccable pound\nLost, found, the way I flood it, niggas gon' drown\nRip shit\u2014ayo, wait, wait, wait, wait\u2014\nI gotta do it again, I gotta do it again\nYou already know the script, roundhouse kick\nShe lookin' at me, lickin' her lip\nPut my arm around her like a bowl of chip with a dip\nWith yo' bitch, what the fuck, niggas erupt\nI got the half moon clip, that's banana\nA good planner, a new anger like a larger Bruce Banner\nOut the house, nigga, if you open your mouth\nMan, nigga, if you open your mouth\nFuck the press, I'm leavin' every room in a mess\nLike herds of bulls with they aprons on and bakin' soda\nKeep it movin', keep the convo short\nAnd bring a case of Henney (case of Henney)\nHouse of pain, I control many (control many)\nHouse of lies, you niggas go run, hide\nPeep the way this vibe conflict with they real lives\n(Nigga) Fanatic shit, we go bizarre (we go bizarre)\nBad news for niggas as I go emphatical, radical\nNational animal rulin' like a czar\nEvery time I black for the record, the shit splatter\nThe whole batter, no bullshit, the boom bapper\nI pull the gat up, whip the shit, cook the batter\nWhen I pull up on niggas, even your momma gon' scatter\nBarishkaaa"}
{"text":"80 ContributorsWhat? Lyrics\nBabies babble on, they lookin' for excuses\nGame for the buzzer who kicked it to the mooses\nLame as a brain, could be, golly gee\nIf you see a shrink he'll charge you a fee\nIf you see me, ya see, the fee is nothing\nFee will be for patience, all backs no fronting\nWhat is a party if it doesn't really rock?\nWhat is a poet? All balls, no cock\nWhat is a war if it doesn't have a general?\nWhat's Channel 9 if it doesn't have Arsenio?\nWhat is life if you don't have fun?\nWhat is a \"what?\" if you ain't got a gun?\nWhat's Ali without Shaheed Muhammad?\nNothing, Kapelka makes you vomit\nWhat is a Quest if the players ain't willing?\nWhat is a pence if you don't have a shilling?\nExcuse me if I'm chillin', hey what, say what\nWhat's a fat man without food in his gut?\nWhat's a child birth, without the umbilical?\nWhat's United Parcels, without the deliverer?\nWhat's momma-san, without poppa-san?\nWhat's martial arts without Daniel-San?\nWhat's Rasheed without Tonya, Tamika?\nWhat's Oran Juice and Doug E. Doug without Shaniqua?\nNada, nada, nada, not a damn thing\nWhat's Duke Ellington without that swing?\nWhat's Alex Haley if it doesn't have Roots?\nWhat's a weekend if you ain't knockin' boots?\nWhat's a black nation, without black unity?\nWhat is a child who doesn't know puberty?\nWhat is my label when I exit womb status?\nWhat's menage a trois, or, that is\nWhat is sex when you have three people?\nWhat are laws if they ain't fair and equal?\nWhat's Clark Kent without a telephone booth?\nWhat is a liquor if it ain't 80 proof?\nWhat are the youth if they ain't rebellin'?\nWhat's Ralph Kramden, if he ain't yellin'\nAt Ed Norton, what is coke snortin'?\nWhat is position if there is no contortin'?\nWhat is hip-hop if it doesn't have violence?\nChill for a minute, Doug E. Fresh said silence\n(*four second pause*)\nWhat is a Glock if you don't have a clip?\nWhat's a lollipop without the Good Ship?\nWhat's S&M if you don't have chains?\nWhat's a con artist if he doesn't have brains?\nWhat's America without greed and glamour?\nWhat's an MC if he doesn't have stamina?\nWhat's music factory without Mr. Walt?\nWhat's Trugoy without a phrase called talk?\nWhat's Chris Lighty if he wasn't such a baby?\nWhat is a woman if she didn't say maybe?\nBaby laid down, I removed the frown\nWhat would be my penal cord if it wasn't brown?\nWhat is a paper without a president?\nWhat is a compound without a element?\nWhat is a jam if you don't spike the punch?\nWhat's a brewski if you don't bite brunch?\nOooh ooh, it's like that you keep goin'\nFreak, freak, y'all 'cause you know that we showin'\nWhat tigga, what tigga, what tigga, what tigga\nWhat tigga, what tigga, what tigga, WHAT!You might also like"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsLuck of Lucien Lyrics\nBrother, brother, brother, Lucien, you're like no other\nListen very close 'cause I don't like to boast\nInstead, I'll tell the tale of a French who prevailed\nThrough the Mr. Crazy Rabbits who were always on his tail\nWe ain't on sale, your rumor starts to wail\nGet caught with stolen goods and you will go to jail\nIf you go to jail, then who will pay the bail?\nDeport you back to France on a ship with a sail\nEscargot, Lucien, you eat snails\n(Hey yo Tip, what's wrong with snails?)\nFrom the Zulu nation, from a town called Paris\nCame to America to find liberty\nInstead of finding pleasure, all you found was misery\nBut listen, Lucien, you have a friend in me\nOh, luck-luck will drive your butt batty\nNext time you get some wheels, make it a Caddy\nIn terms of doing good, I know you wish you really could\nBut listen, brother man, I really think you can\nSucceed with the breed of the brothers on your back\nIt's the creme de la creme, and you can vouch for that\nIt'll take a minute, rice, so take my advice\nTrust in us, and thus you trust in your life\nLucien, Lucien, Lucien, Lucien\nYou should know!\nYou might also like\n- What? Oh Tip, man, why you do that to me, man?\nI though he was a friend, bruh\nOh man, can't believe that\nOh, why you do that to me?\nI wouldn't do it like this\nI couldn't do it by myself\nYo, it's  it to my \n\nAre you ready, Lu? This one is for you\nComin' from a true-blue, fits like a shoe\n\"\u00bfC\u00f3mo est\u00e1 usted?\" or \"Comment allez-vous\"\nLucien, I'll leave it up to you\nVoulez-vous? (vous)\nRendez-vous (vous)\nCoucou (cou)\nLes poupous (pou)\nWatch that lass, gonna backlash fast\nCan you get a grip on the crackhead dip?\nSold you a paper bag, guess he saw you comin'\nVCR from a neck-bone bummin'\n$10 brother, he was hummin' and strummin'\nOnly had 20, he was livin' like ya slummin'\nGave him the money, well, I thought that was somethin'\nLookin' like a kid who was lost in crumbin'\nDon't worry about a thing, I won't get specific\nThis is a song that is long and prolific\nThink of the stuff that I said if you can\nFigure it out, compute, understand\nNo problemo, I'll help you with your demo\nIf you go to the store for me\nLucien, I'm just kiddin'\nYou should know!\n- Hey, yo, wassup' man? What's your name?\n- What kind of accent is that?\n- It's a french accent, you know, I'm french, I'm from Paris, don't you think it's sexy?\n- No, it's not a sexy accent\n- Oh, man ! Give me a try ! You try to kiss me enough? Hun? Oh please what! Love me french, french me love, everybody love my accent! Why nobody like it? Q-Tip  city of Paris. Why is that? Oh! I'm sexy, and I'm french, everybody love my accent, I'm the best, yes, yeah! Je t'aime! I love you! I love you oui, je t'aime! I'll teach you french, I'll make your french good!\n\nYou gotta get a grip on the missions you'll be takin'\nNot so much the mission, but you got crazy ignition\nSure, the sugar-babies wanna give you a chance\nWith the French \"savoir faire\" and the sexy glance\nBut is she really fly, or is she a guy?\nI won't ask why, 'cause I know that you try\nYou try too hard, is that the answer to the riddle?\nInstead of doin' so much, why don't you do just a little?\nBoy, what a cad, I guess we shouldn't treat him bad\nIn fact, it would be nice if we understood him, right?\nA case of positionin' the feet in the shoes\nSympathetic reason in the case of the blues\nLucien is blue, even though he's really brown\nI had to make the sound, his life is too profound\nOn the up-and-up, he's somethin' like a little pup\nYoung and naive, it's hard to believe\nAs long as you're strong, you can quest with the Questers\nJolly like a jumping bean or a jester\nLucien, Lucien, Lucien, Lucien\nYou should know!\nOh Tip, everything, you gonna be alright, man\nThank you , man\nI think I'll going home, man\nBye-bye, I'll see you tonight\nOh Tip, , I'm not here"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsBlack Spasmodic Lyrics\nYo, y'all ready?\nYo, Phife, you ready?\nCons, you got that part, right? A'ight\n(I dunno but it don\u2019t matter who choose to set it off\nATCQ, no doubt my niggas is boss\nLittle half-ass rappers, y\u2019all pissin\u2019 me off\nTime to dead \u2018em all off, yo, no matter the cost)\n\n(Black) They don\u2019t make thugs of this caliber\n(Spasmodic) Who kept up the buzz the whole calendar\n(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger\n(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers\n(Black) They don\u2019t make thugs of this caliber\n(Spasmodic) Who kept up a buzz the whole calendar\n(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger\n(Spasmodic) Now look what he does to any challenger\n\nNow who want it with the Trini gladiator?\nMid finger to you haters, you biters not innovators\nI take zero for granted, I honors my gift\nChampion pen game, plus I\u2019m freestyle equipped\nYou clowns be bum sauce, speak my name, it\u2019s curtains\nHamdulill\u0101h, my crew\u2019s back to workin'\nTrash rap the dead, pussy kill the chirping\nNo more fuck boys, sit down, shit can only get worse\nAnd how do you touch mic with flows uncertain?\nSpeak game dry, boy, that flow ain\u2019t workin'\nFolks throwin' items, them vex and cursin'\nFuck made me wanna see these niggas in person?\nThird song in, motherfuckers dispersin'\nOnly to realize Donald Juice in the buildin'\nBig tune this for man, woman, and children\nBack on my bullshit, Busta Bus' then we kill them\nYou might also like\n(Black) They don\u2019t make thugs of this caliber\n(Spasmodic) Who kept up the buzz the whole calendar\n(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger\n(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers\n\nMy nigga spirit be talkin' to me, let me explain\nNot through evil mediums, tarot cards, and Ouija games\nBut through mixing chords and boards\nAnd even drum machines\u2014he be saying:\n\"Nigga fuck awards, keep reppin\u2019 Queens\"\nAnd don\u2019t be taking slack from these non-rapping niggas, man\nThat intellectual shit you spit, you better change your plan\nEspecially when you see 'em at the lobby of a label\nAnd they don\u2019t seem able to outstretch they hands\nAnd admit they fans\nYou better flame 'em in the J's that they standing in\nOstracize they memory for not remembering\nThe articles reduce their body parts to particles\nAnd dust the Dead Sea with their cremated molecules\nI\u2019m leaving, but nigga you still got the work to do\nI expect the best from you, I\u2019m watching from my heaven view\nDon\u2019t disappoint me, make sure that they anoint me\nAs the blue ribbon pedigree, the best of show, five-foot-three\nSpeak of the legacy for short people around the world\nNapoleonic, bionic people who cause the world to twirl\nRip every stage with grace, look right dead in they face\nLive the Tribe principle of havin' impeccable taste\nEnjoy that breath like that one was your last one left\nIf you don\u2019t believe me, Tip, there\u2019s truly life after death\nSo refer to the Biggie covers and shoutout my Trini brothers\nAnd please check in on my mother...\nMalik Izaak, call me shorty\"\n(Black) They don\u2019t make thugs of this caliber\n(Spasmodic) Who kept up the buzz the whole calendar\n(Black) Used to sell drugs out the Challenger\n(Spasmodic) Used to keep guns with the silencers\n(Black) (Spasmodic)"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsI Left My Wallet in El Segundo Lyrics\nToqu\u00e9 ese guitarra!\n\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI gotta get it, I got, got to get it\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI gotta get it, I got, got to get it\n\nMy mother went away for a month-long trip\nHer and some friends on an ocean liner ship\nShe made a big mistake by leaving me home\nI had to roam so I picked up the phone\nDialed Ali up to see what was going down\nTold him I pick him up so we could drive around\nTook the Dodge Dart, a '74\nMy mother left a yard but I needed one more\nShaheed had me covered with a hundred greenbacks\nSo we left Brooklyn and we made big tracks\nDrove down the Belt, got on the Conduit\nCame to a toll, and paid and went through it\nHad no destination, we was on a quest\nAli laid in the back so he can get rest\nDrove down the road for two-days-and-a-half\nThe sun had just risen on a dusty path\nJust then a figure had caught my eye\nA man with a sombrero who was 4 feet high\nI pulled over to ask where we was at\nHis index finger he tipped up his hat\nEl segundo, he said, my name is Pedro\nIf you need directions, I'll tell you pronto\nNeed a civilization, some sort of reservation\nHe said a mile south there's a fast food station\nThanks, se\u00f1or, as I started the motor\nAli said \"Damn, Tip, what did you drive so far for?\"\nYou might also like\nWell, describe to me what the wallet looks like\n\nAnyway a gas station we passed\nWe got gas and went on to get grub\nIt was a nice little pub in the middle of nowhere\nAnywhere would have been better\nI ordered enchiladas and I ate 'em\nAli had the fruit punch\nWhen we finished we thought for ways to get back\nI had a hunch\nAli said: pay for lunch, so I did it\nPulled out the wallet and I saw this wicked beautiful lady\nShe was a waitress there\nPut the wallet down and stared and stared\nTo put me back into reality, here's Shaheed\n\"Yo Tip man, you got what you need?\"\nI checked for keys and started to step\nAnd what do you know, my wallet I forget\n\nIt was a brown wallet, it had props numbers\nIt had my jimmy hats, I gotta get it man\n\nLord, have mercy\nThe heat got hotter, Ali starts to curse me\nI feel bad but he makes me feel badder\nChit-chit-chatter, car starts to scatter\nBreaking on out, we was northeast bound\nJetting on down at the speed of sound\nThree days coming and three more going\nWe get back and there was no slack\nHe said, \"all right, Tip, see you tomorrow\nThinking about the past week, the last week\nHands go in my pocket, I can't speak\nHopped in the car and torped' to the shack\nOf Shaheed, we gotta go back\nWhen he said \"Why?,\" I said \"We gotta go\n'Cause I left my wallet in El Segundo\"\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI gotta get it, I got, got to get it\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI left my wallet in El Segundo\nI gotta get it, I got, got to get it\n\nCome on, let's go\nCome on, let's go\n(Yo Phife)"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsShow Business Lyrics\nLet me tell you 'bout the snakes, the fakes, the lies, the highs\nAt all of these industry shing-dings\nWhere you see the pretty girls\nIn the high animated world\nChecking for a rapper with all the dough\nIf you take a shit they want to know\nAnd if you're gonna fall, they won't be around, y'all\nSo you still wanna do the show business?\nAnd you think that you got what it takes?\nI mean you really gotta rap, and be all that\nAnd prepare yourself for the breaks\nCheck it out!\n\nDo you wanna be in the business? (The business)\nThe ups and downs with the hoes (The business)\n(Always getting fronted on at shows) (The business)\nPeople gotta stick their nose (In the business)\n\nYo, I gotta speak on the cesspool\nIt's the rap industry and it ain't that cool\nOnly if you're on stage or if you're speaking to your people\nAin't no one your equal\nEspecially on the industry side\nDon't let the gains just glide\nRight through your fingers, you gotta know the deal\nSo Lord Jamar speak, because you're real\nYou might also like\nThey're giving you the business and putting on a show\nYou're a million dollar man that ain't got no dough\nBut you got a ho tickets backstage to a show\nSedated and at that fact they elated\nTime pass and your ass say \"Where's my loot?\"\nThe reply is a kick in the ass from a leg in a boot\nAll you wanna do is taste the fruit\nBut in the back they're making fruit juice\nYou ask for slack and wanna get cut loose from the label\nNot able cause you signed at the table\nFor a pretty cash advance, now they got a song and dance\nThat you didn't recoup, \"More soup with your meal?\"\nCause this is the real when you get a record deal\nAnd I say...\n\nAw shucks, look what the cat hauled in\nIt's Phife Dawg from A Tribe Called Quest, let me begin\nLike Chuck D, I got so much trouble on my mind\n'Bout these no-talent artists getting signed, they can't rhyme\nAnd if that ain't bad, you got bootleggers\nGoing out like suckers, motherfuckers\nFeel it's time that I let loose the lion\nAnd if not that then I'll commence to head flying\nSeems in '91 everybody want a rhyme\nAnd then you go and sell my tape for only $5.99?\nPlease nigga, I've worked too hard for this\nNo more will I take the booty end of the stick\nBogus brothers making albums when they know they can't hack it\nCause they lyrics is played like 8-Ball jackets\nNow tell me I can't tear it up\nGo get yourself some toilet paper cause your lyrics is butt\nDo you wanna be in the business? (The Business)\n(People can't walk a straight line in) (The Business)\nSome of these brothers can't rhyme in (The Business)\n(A-yo, I'm tryna get mine) (The Business)\n\nThe party scene is cool, but then again it's all the same\nYou see the same faces, but at different places\nWhen you're up and riding high everything is palsy-palsy\nGet a million pounds and all the skins give you hugs\nWell that's cool, I can dig it, it really ain't my bag\nPrefer to max on the side and let my pants sag\n\"Oh, he's a cutie\", yeah, real cute\nBut I wasn't that cute when I didn't have no loot\nAlthough I hit a pound of herbs, I'm still nice with the verbs\nSo fuck what you heard\nThe Born Cipher Cipher Master makes me think much faster\nBut critics still continue to plaster\nMy name and discredit my fame\nAll that shit is game and I don't really give a damn\nEat from the tree of life and throw away the verbal ham\n\nWell, excuse me, I gotta add my two cents in\nDon't be alarmed, the rhyme was condensed in\nA matter of minutes so it must be told\nAll that glitters not gold\nEverybody wants a deal, help me make a demo\nSee my name in bright lights, ride around in a limo\nMy moms keeps beefing (\"Boy, get a job\")\nBut I wanna make jams, damn, I know I'll slam\nHuh, well it's not that easy\nYou gotta get a label that's willing and able\nTo market and promote, and you better hope\n(For what?) That the product is dope\nTake it from Diamond, it's like mountain climbing\nWhen it comes to rhyming you gotta put your time in\nGet a good lawyer so problems won't pile\nYou don't wanna make a pitch that's wild"}
{"text":"71 ContributorsLost Somebody Lyrics\nYeah, Phife\u2014for your life\n\nNow, in the time when niggas wasn\u2019t supposed to be born\nBest of us are left for dead in cities that looks war-torn\nVietnam going wrong, heroin going strong\nNeighbors would whoop that bad ass\nJust for running through their lawn\nWalt met Cheryl, Cheryl met Walt\nTrinidadian love sprouting through the asphalt\nLove was consummated and the angels registrated\nTwo were to be born but only one of 'em made it\nInside a cloud of sorrow, a silver lining and joy\nIt\u2019s a bouncing baby boy, a king\u2019s name they would employ\nAnd before he even squeaks, it\u2019s decided it\u2019s Malik\nNow give him hope, give him care\nRaise him while his grandma there\nWatch out momma, if you stare\nLight brown eyes'll keep you there\nLet\u2019s progress the story just a little bit\nMalik, I would treat you like little brother that would give you fits\nSometimes overbearing though I thought it was for your benefit\nDespite all the spats and shits cinematically documented\nThe one thing I appreciate, you and I, we never pretended\nRhymes we would write it out, hard times fight it out\nGave grace face to face, made it right\nAnd now you riding out, out, out, out, damn\nYou might also like\nHave you ever loved somebody?\n(Phife dawg, man)\nWay before you got to dream?\n(Bow wow, woof woof)\nNo more crying, he\u2019s in sunshine\n\nNever thought that I would be ever writing this song\nHold friends tight, never know when those people are gone\nSo, so beautiful, opined indisputable\nHeart of a largest lion trapped inside the little dude\nTook me quick to granny house, now we eat the curry food\nTalking hopes, dreams, plans, leak ice, never scared\nBrand new pair of Nike Airs, avenue of sairs\nMailbox mayors, all our rhymes was written there\nA nigga wanna battle, you know Phifey didn\u2019t care\nJarobi with the beat, into new ass we tear\nI\u2019mma flash forward well, took a trip to ATL\nCooking in the kitchen making sure my nigga eating well\nWedding in Tobago, you know exactly where I\u2019m at\nStanding on the side of black Malik Izaak\n\nHave you ever loved somebody?\nWay before you got to dream?\nNo more crying, he\u2019s in sunshine\nHe\u2019s alright now, see his wings\nHave you ever loved somebody?\nWay before you got to dream?\nNo more crying, he\u2019s in sunshine\nHe\u2019s alright now, see his wings\nHave you ever loved somebody?\nWay before you got to dream?\nNo more crying, he\u2019s in sunshine\nHe\u2019s alright now, see his wings\nHave you ever loved somebody?\nWay before you got to dream?\nNo more crying, he\u2019s in sunshine\nHe\u2019s alright now, see his wings\nHave you ever loved somebody?\nWay before you got to dream?\nNo more cry\n"}
{"text":"76 ContributorsEgo Lyrics\nEgo, ego skippin', trippin' in my mind\nEgo, ego skippin', trippin' in my mind\nEgo, ego trippin', trippin', trippin', trippin', trippin'\nEgo, ego\nI got one, you got one, and now we equal\nSometimes it makes you trip out on your people\nSometimes it has connotations of evil\nSometimes niggas call on it when they need to\nIt's called the ego\n\nAy, it's hard to really make the subject positively stated\nSome may hate it and some may overrate it\nIt's a top story and you rarely see a trend\nSo all you psychoanalysts, pull out your pad and pen\nIt's called the ego\nCome up with an idea, and no one seems to get it\nThen every time you mention it\nThey stare like you're two-headed\nBut one day, in your cubicle, your idea really comes to view\nYour boss is walking by, he sees it too and he takes it from you\nShe put you on the aces of all the stripper places\nAnd has the kinda clientele where niggas trick off very well\nYou beg her and you plead her and you tuck away your ego\nShe knows you need the chicken\nAnd you know that she's your people\nThey call you fat and lazy, your commentary crazy\nThey photoshop your face on a box of McCormick gravy\nAnd now that inner voice, that ego, making you get wavy\nChange your diet, hit the gym\nAnd say, \"What were you saying to me?\"\nThe ego makes you do it, it makes you face the music\nOr run away from life so fast that you'll outsprint Carl Lewis\nIt has you think your deceptive ways of being are the truest\nHad the prettiest brown eyes but you change them shits to the bluest\nIt's the ego\nYou might also like\nOoo, Jack White\nOoo, Jack White\n\nA celebrated genius, my dick game is the meanest\nI'll take the girl that's augmented, new me is invented\nI'll take the biggest house in Calabassas\nAnyone for Michael Phelps swimming classes?\nYou need it when you're balling, equally when you're falling\nOr when those kids in school on your locker\nThey get to scrawling\nEpithets that's racist is stupid and mean in nature\nSomething that can make you feel stronger when people hate ya\nEgo make you violent or govern like a tyrant\nOr switch a dictionary's word from vibrant to vivrant\nFool the thirsty people, selling tap water in bottles\nFooled a girl with NYU scholarship and now she models\nEgo has no ending, has people pretending\nReligious zealots get jealous 'cause guys want their defending\nThis is the last Tribe and our ego hopes that you felt us\nAnd closing for our ego, we know only God can help us\n\nEgo, ego skippin', trippin' in my mind\nEgo, ego skippin', trippin' in my mind\nEgo, ego trippin', trippin', trippin', trippin', trippin'\nEgo, ego skippin', trippin' in my mind\nEgo, ego skippin', trippin' in my mind\nEgo, ego trippin', trippin', trippin', trippin', trippin'\nEgo, ego skippin', trippin' in my mind\nEgo, ego skippin', trippin' in my mind"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsMidnight Lyrics\nThe night is on my mind\nThe sun'll still shine\nBut the night is on my mind\nSo parlay while I drop this rhyme\n\nSee, Jake be gettin' illy when the sun get dark\nHe be comin' out for heads, but shit, don't let me start\nThere's activities a-plenty in the nighttime\nFor the ghetto child, it seem to be the right time\nSee, kids be gettin' stuck with jewels and fly gimmicks\nShorty see the action and then start to mimic\nRunnin' to the corner, the dice game is blazin'\nLookin' at the loot, it seems so amazin'\nPuts the short down, to be exact one pound\nHe shakes the stones in his hand, then he lets it down\nUh! Scared money don't make none\nHe threw a trip on the ace, now he's out, son\nHits the local bodega to wolf down a gyro\nSon is on a Midnight Run like De Niro\nSpots a shorty rock standin' on his block\nThe fiends be houndin' him to pump, so he adds to his knot\nConversation that he kicked to the shorty was a sly one\nIncreased intensity, 'cause damn, she was a fly one\nTook her to the crib, there she ran her jibs\nAbout mind upliftment, and bein' positive\nHe yawned and he sighed 'til 1:05\nThen he finally realized the honey wasn't live\nAt least he didn't plan on buildin' for the evening\nThrew the Fila on the dome and said, \"Come on, yo, we leavin'\"\nCame out on the scene as he told her to beep him\nSaw his man Stan with the blunt in his hand\n(Aww, shhh...!) You know the transaction\nBrothers gettin' lost in the weed satisfaction\nComin' down the block, man, loud as (fuck)\nYou would swear Redman was inside the truck\nAs the night seemed darker, cops is on a hunt\nThey interrupt your cipher, and crush your blunt\nSee you left your work at home so they pat you down for nothin'\nWhy in the hell does 10-4 keep frontin'?!\nYou push to the park even though it's still dark\nThe kid is nice on the hoop, he said, \"I'll spot you, troop\"\nYou might also like\nThe night is on my mind\nThe sun\u2019ll still shine\nBut now the night is on the mind\nThe night is on the mind\nThe night is on yo mind\nA-yo, the sun\u2019ll still shine\nBut now the night is on the mind\n\nAs for me, I'm a nocturnal animal\nDark concentrates on a young black man\nWho makes the niggas' speakers shake\nThe nighttime is busy, it's word to Aunt Kizzy\nIt's the time we get down, yo, son, you know the sound\nThe flavas on the top with the rugged beat to back it\nThe night makes the aura, and the Jake can't hack it\nThe way the moon dangles in the midnight sky\nAnd the stars dance around, a-yo, I think it's fly\nIntensity, most rappers don't see it\nSpirit wise, musically, you gotta be it\nSerenity and silence of the sounds and emotions\nIn the concrete jungle when the sun don't bungle\nI think it's hard to find the words on how I feel\nI paid about a deuce twenty for the Ampex steel\nBut let me slow down, I think I ran my jibs enough\nPeace out to the Nation \u2014 stay rugged and rough\nThe night is on my mind\nThe sun\u2019ll still shine\nThe night is on my mind\nThe night is on my mind\nThe night is on my mind\nYeah, the sun\u2019ll still shine\nBut now the night is on my mind\nUh-huh, the night is on my mind\nThe night is on yo mind\nYou know the sun\u2019ll still shine\nBut now the night is on the mind\nYeah, the night is on the mind\nThe night is on the mind\nA-yo, the sun\u2019ll still shine\nBut now the night is on the mind\nYeah, the night is on the mind\nThe night is on the mind\nA-yo, the sun\u2019ll still shine\n\nDid you know that the rate of AIDS\nIn the Black and Hispanic community is rising at an alarming rate?\nEducation is proper means for slowing it down"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsThe Chase, Part II Lyrics\nI'm bound to wreck your body, and say turn the party out\n\nDem can't touch we, no, dem can't touch we\nDem can't hold we, no, dem can't hold we\nDem can't touch we, no, dem can't touch we\nDem can't hold we, no, dem can't hold we\n\n(Damn Phife, you got fat!)\nYeah, I know it looks pathetic\nAli Shaheed Muhammad got me doin' calisthenics (Uh!)\nNeedless to say, boy, I'm bad to the bone\nMakin' love to my mic like Jarobi on the phone\nBut um, no time for jokes, there's bills to be paid (What?)\nHoes to be laid (What?), punks to be sprayed (What?)\nChumps to attack, so my man, watch your back\n'93 means skills are a must, so never lack! (Uh!)\nSit back and learn, come now, watch the birdie\nYour styles are incomplete, same as Vinny Testaverde\nBattlin'? Whenever \u2014 hot damn!\nGimme the microphone, boy, one time.. BAM!\n\nKeep it on the cooler 'cause here come the heat\nLyrically in space, the jazz will pace the beat\nAs we proceed to elevate you, we in 4\/4\nRun and tell your dad the Abstract's the bag\nAs we proceed to move your hind parts, we know as ass\nPoets got the gimmicks, but they lack the sassafras\nTo make the average hard rocker cock the Glock\nAnd roam the city streets on the jury, they hot\nI be ingredients, like sugar in candy\nIf your life is broke, girl, I'll be the handy-dandy that can mend you\nMy fee is a shower for you\nI scrub the back and I floss the butt crack\nMake you shiny, spiffy in a jiff\nFuckin' with the Ab', you got the greatest of gifts\nA-yo, my mic is soundin' bugged \u2014 Bob Power, you there? (Yeah)\nAdjust the bass and treble, make my shit sound clear\n(Clear, clear, clear, clear)\nYou might also like\nI'm bound to wreck your body, and say turn the party out\nOkay, take it from the tip\n\nMove back yourself, man, come watch me drop it\nFor sure, me-a go do it, for sure me-a go rock it\nMe not deal with no changaram, bangaram business\nI got soul on the end, like Jehovah's got the Witness\nMusically, the three, poetically we be\nThe enchantment on the airwaves, kids just fade\nObey the MC's 'cause the MC's say\nWe flippin' on niggas like we Super Dave\nBut noticin' my stature, y'all niggas know we gotcha\nMovin' to the rapture, listen how we catch ya\nMovin' with the pace, here we go, let's begin\nMakin' people jump out they goddamn skin\nLyrically, we bite like we Rin Tin Tin\nPeace to Grand Pu and his many many skins\nDon't mark us for the L 'cause you know we get the wins\nIt's the Ab', Shaheed and the Dawg for the blend\n\n(I'm bound to wreck your body, and say turn the party out)\nAnd I wanna say peace to my man Bob P, my man Jerod\n(I'm bound to wreck your body, and say turn the party out)\n(I'm bound to wreck your body, and say turn the party out)\n(I'm bound to wreck your body, and say turn the party out)\nAnd Skeff Anslem on the help out \u2014 and we out like shout\n(I'm bound to wreck your body, and say turn the party out)\n(I'm bound to wreck your body, and say turn the party out)\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nNine-tre, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh...\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nI don't wanna say nine-tre\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\n'Cause my man Extra P said don't say the years\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nSo, it's for eternity, know what I'm sayin'?\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nRock, rock on, everybody in Queens, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody in Brooklyn, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nMoney Earnin' Mt. Vernon, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody in Jersey, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody in Philly, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody in Houston, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody LA, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody in The Sand, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody in Egypt, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody Nigeria, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody in London, rock, rock on\nEverybody in Sweden, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody everywhere, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nTo the niggas on the famous, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nEverybody no name, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nTo the kids at Nu-Clear, rock, rock on\n(I'm bound to ......... turn the party out)\nTo the... The Cave rock, rock on\nMcDonald's, rock, rock on\nThis concludes Midnight Marauder Program\nPress any key to return to the main menu"}
{"text":"68 ContributorsVibes and Stuff Lyrics\nLet me flaunt the style, I think that the time's near\nThat we drop Scuds, there won't be no duds here\nRappers play the dumb, kinda on the space tip\nBut when they hear the jams, they be on the dilsnick\nNow I'm not for the rock, I know the territory\nGo ahead and try, that's a different story\nSimilar to Grimm, I could tell a better one\nAll about a kid, who couldn't rap and didn't run\nStands on the side when the mic is getting dumb\nResorts to bagging Billy, asking could he have some\nNo never ever, go back and try again man\nIf you come back, I'll be the first to shake your hand\nCompetition's good, it brings out the vital parts\nThe Abstract Poetic, majors in recital arts\nDo it for the kids, the elders and the rap peers\nWe know the job is done when we hear a lot of cheers\nGotta feel the vibes, real from my creation\nIf the hands clap I'm filled with elation\nHere I am ghetto, full with a lot of steam\nThink I gotta, I think I gotta, I think I gotta scream\nCause that's how good it feels child\nLet your hair down, so we can get buckwild\nDo your ill dance, don't think about the next man\nWe must have unity and think of the bigger plan\nDivision we will fall, we must stick together, see\nI'd like to take this time to say what's up to Kool G\nThe name is Q-Tip, the Midnight Marauder\nGiving nuff respects to Afrika Bambaataa\nAs a man in the world, I must do my job\nTake care of Mama Duke, I won't resort to rob\nBob you'll get your dough, Mase is my witness\nObsessed with the rap, for it's the mental fitness\nLike shooting Cee-lo, and always hitting head cracks\nThe industry is luck, winning with the fake raps\nPeace to the crews who pump the real hip hop\nNot selling out, from hardrock to disc jock\nYou might also like\n(From disk jock from hardrock, from hardrock to disc jock)\nI don't know what to say, but here I go freak it\nIf the papes come, then you know I'll seek it\nI'm just a short brother, dark skin face\nWeigh a buck-fifty, 36 waist\nHair is crazy curly, flip like Mr. Furley\nTo this day I still believe that no MC can serve me\nBrothers try to front, but everybody know\nI get more props than the Arsenio Hall Show\nParty animal I was, but now I chill at home\nAll I do is write rhymes, eat, drink, shit, and bone\nFound my thrill in Amityville, I'm always in the Island\nFudge and Lucky know the time, they know who keeps 'em smiling\nGo out on my own, something that I gotta do\nDo what the hell I want and have no one to listen to\nI'm prompt with my business and I do things on the double\nYo, I'm out like Buster Douglas, I say peace to MC Trouble\nRest in peace\n\nWord Up, rest in Peace, and you know what else?\nWe got, we got, we got the vibes\nAll the people in Long Island, we got the vibes\nBrooklyn and Queens, we got the vibes\nUptown and Now Rule, we got the vibes\nPeople Upstate, we got the vibes\nIf you're in DC, you got the vibes\nMaryland, Virginia, Carolina vibes\nOut West, we got the vibes\nIn the Bahamas, we got the vibes\nOver in Europe, you know what, we got the vibes\nAnd we gotta keep it alive, it goes um...\nOf rap I'm a fan, I've seen a whole lot of slums\nGood with the girls, I get a whole lot of 'em\nFrom fat to skinny, Freda to Winnie\nEmma to Cindy, Constance to Wendy\nCause I be real friendly, never on the snotty side\nI don't brag to brothers about the little papes I got\nMy vocal styles can vary, the sight is never scary\nIt's only legendary, my father well prepared me\nMy job ain't temporary, I'm here for the long shot\nBetter yet the long term, I don't have a perm\nIn a way I do, call 'em the perma-naps\nI'm crazy slap-happy and I'm scrappy and I'm nappy\nWhen I get the mic in my hand with the crowd in the stands\nIt's as good as grand like that\n\nYo, I wanna say peace and dedicate this joint to MC Trouble\nAnd to uh... Trouble T Roy\nAnd to um... Scott La Rock\nAnd to um... Cowboy, you know what I'm sayin?\nThis is for the slain rappers and the fallen rappers, you know what I'm saying?\nThis is a special, special, special, special, special dedication\nAnd also to my Pops and also to Vinia's Moms, you know what I'm saying?\nYou just gotta keep it happy and keep the vibes going\nCause this is vibes and stuff, and we out..."}
{"text":"42 ContributorsWe Can Get Down Lyrics\nWe can get down, we can-we can get down\nIt's like that, man, it's like that (Yes!)\nIt's like that, man, it's like that (Yes!)\nIt's like that, man, it's like that (Yes!)\nIt's like that, man, it's like that (Yes!)\nCheck it!\n\nI'm not your average MC with the Joe Schmoe flow\nIf you don't know me by now, you'll never know\nSteppin' on my critics, beatin' on my foes\nThe plan is to stay focused, only then I can grow\nStraight from the heart, I represent hip-hop\nI be three albums deep, but I don't wanna go pop\nToo many candy rappers seem to be at the top\nToo much candy is no good, so now I'm closin' the shop\nCrushin competition like Italians on grapes\nMy rhymes styles be blendin' like a Ron G tape\nMy man, where ya goin'? You can't escape\nWhen the Tribe is in the house, that means nobody is safe\nHow can a reverend preach, when a rev' can't define\nThe music of our youth from 1979?\nWe rap 'bout what we see, meanin' reality\nFrom people bustin' caps, and like Mandela bein' free\nNot every MC be with the negativity\nWe have a slew of rappers pushin' positivity\nHip-hop will never die, yo, it's all about the rap\nSo Mayor Barry smokin' crack \u2014 let's preach about that\nThe trash you talk won't matter, that old bogus chatter\nThe more that you condemn us, it only makes us phatter\nWhen I talk, I know I'm talkin' for Hip-Hoppers all around\nYou know you love the sound, we gets down\nYou might also like\nWe can get down, we can-we can get down\nIt's like that man, it's like that (Yes!)\nIt's like that man, it's like that (Yes!)\nIt's like that man, it's like that (Yes!)\nIt's like that man, it's like that (Yes!)\nCheck it!\n\nI'm the cherry on the top of yo' ice cream\nI'm the mystic thought inside your dream\nListen to the way we pulsate the jam\nI'm the nigga here with the mic in hand\nStyles that we present are just a few\nTo do away with you and your hum drum crew\nThis is '93 and the shit is real\nBlack people \u2014 unite and put down your steel\nLadies, make a forum on your sexual drive\nDevote it to your lover and make it thrive\nThe rhythm's in F, I'm a hip-hop body\nRelease my energy with the force of a shotty\nStandin' on the wall with my Polo on\nTalkin' to the girl with the Liz Claiborne\nKeep the poetry in my black knapsack\nGot my Timbo hooves and my Doublemint pack\nHit the city streets to enhance my soul\nI can kick a rhyme over ill drum rolls\nWith a kick, snare, kicks and high hat\nSkilled in the trade of that old boom bap\nI can do a trick with the opposite breed\nI used to down 40's and smoke grade weed\nNow I'm doin' shows with half loot down\nNow it's time for me to take ya Uptown\nIt's like that man, it's like that (Yes!)\nShaheed!\nShaheed: (Scratching until end)\nRakim: \"Why waste time on the microphone?\"\n\nA Tribe Called Quest consists of four members:\nPhife Dawg, Ali Shaheed Muhammad, Q-Tip, and Jarobi\nA E I O U, and sometimes Y"}
{"text":"67 ContributorsScenario (Remix) Lyrics\nHere in 1992, we present the fabulous What's The Scenario remix\nWhereas, there are seven MC's\nSix which are in physical form, and one which is in spiritual essence\nAnd he goes by the name of, uh... (Hood!)\nCheck your rhyme, punk that ass or get got, F it (Shiittt!)\nI lick buckshots\nHood \u2014 madman, I rip up stages\nLaid out on your wages, I'm wild like Larry Davis\nExtra! Extra! Pick up a clip\nI tear ass out the frame (Ha!), and grab my dick (Oh!)\nI'm a Rock'Em Sock'Em robot, kid, I drop bombs\nI'm rugged and deadly, so I shit on the petty\nI baseball bat a bastard, I'm bad news\nI'm crazy and clever, cut throats of crews\nI'm death on the phono, my skills are porno\nYou say \"Oh, no!\", you bitch-ass homo!\nI bag up waste, electrifyin', I'm prime-time\nI slaughter slime, I'm the greatest of all time\nSick-ass brother, nasty-ass nigga\nPump slugs in your face, and dump that ass in the river\nTwo tears in a bucket, fuck it! Kick the can\n(Say what?! Say what?!) I'm a bad, bad man!\nYou might also like\nQuick is how I flip from the tip of the lip\nPunchin' out hits like Gladys Knight & The Pips\nThe Five-Foot Assassin has just raided your area\nYour booty rhymes are wack, and that's the reason I ain't hearin' ya\n(So!) Roll out the red carpet 'cause I'm gettin' this\nVanilla Ice platinum? That shit's ridiculous\nExcuse my French, but profanity is all I knew\nAnd to you other sellouts \u2014 oh, yeah, F you too\nAnd let it be known, I'm not the one to step to\nYou're better off callin' D-Nice to your rescue\nFreestyle fanatic, probably the best around\nAs for corny MC's, like Chuck D, I Shut 'Em Down\nThe Artical Don of hip-hop, and I won't stop\nThe Five-Foot Assassin has come to wreck 'nuff shop\nSo do like Michael Jackson and Remember the Time (Do you remember?)\nPut on your dancin' shoes or somethin', 'cause you sure can't rhyme\n\n(Big up! Big up!) Enter new identity\nNext to say somethin' 'cause you pass it to me\nWhat does it take to check a technique? (Many styles! Many styles!)\nHostile heat brings bursts of energy\nMilo In De Dance is the new identity\nOne-two, mic check\nSelect for the ruffnecks that tend to want, bet I come (Correct!)\nIn my cyphers on blocks, I bring box to connect with knots\nSo I can grow dreadlocks\nMaintain the rock! (Don't stop the rock!)\nMaintain the rock! (Don't stop the rock!)\nKickin' right inna your what's it not\nI could rock longer, but fair is fair!\nSo C. Brown \u2014 are we in the clear?! (Yeah!)\nC. Brown \u2014 are we in the clear?! (Yeah!)\nMakin' moves, y'all! (Moves, y'all!) On and on and on!\n(Check it, check it out!) To the break of, break of dawn\n(Who's that?!) Just one of the L.O.N.S\nAnd A Tribe Called Quest, (East Coast!) to West\nRemix mad kick, more than Metallica\nTo all MC's fall like the Battlestar Galactica\nStampin', stompin', rompin' Compton\n(People all over the world!) I'm promptin' (Style!)\nPick a style, any style, Strong Isle\nRepresentation, sensationalization\n\"Scenario\" for the radio, 'BLS and KISS, so\n(Here we go, yo!) Yeaaah!\nForce, Main Source LP on the rise\nIn livin' color, let's see through original eyes\nAnd I'm out like shout! Ooh-ahh! Ooh-ahh!\n(Ooh-ahh! Ooh-ahh!) There it is, baby pah!\n\nFlyin' in on a limb, slim trim, D I am\nThere I am (There I am!) Don't run from a grim\nSike! We be right, be polite for my mics\nLike I'm like (See sick! See sike!)\nAnd slip away, and off to the Poconos\nSpot picked the clothes, hype swing the pretty pose\nYamaha (Ay-Ha-May!)\nLet's flip the funk, now it all spells (Hey!)\nEnough, enough, Ms. Fitted, I'm wit' it\nIf I did it, I was blitted, and probably shouldn't have quit it\n'Cause yo, my vocal status at Knight's like the Gladys\nBed rest, spread test, and yo, I'm like the maddest\nMale, not female, hail from Uniondale\nBounce the b-ball, 'cause beats are bein' yelled\nIn the hallways, always ringin' with a (Ho!)\nThis is my two-times-nine on the Scenario\nCheck it out, everybody \u2014 rhymes and mics\nBlack mens gettin' loot (Doing what they like!)\nEight black brothers in the public eye\nIf you listen very close, I will tell you why\n(Hood!), Phife, Milo, Dinco and C. Brown\nShaheed, myself, and Busta Bust Down\nWill commence to rock (Rock!), so bring on the flocks (Flock!)\nInterrogation for the knockin' of the box\nThe boom-box ruler controls the medulla\nNone come cooler, I win like Shula\nSo bust out the move as you start to pursue her\nIntensified mind, non-blunt consumer\nTip will come booty (Well, it's only a rumor!)\nThe meaning's so deep that it starts brain tumors (Tumors!)\nPeace to Hood, baby, from the midnight crooner\nSmoke 'em up later, if not then sooner\n\nHey! What we gon' do (Dooo!) in '92?\nEven though we had fun (Fuuun!) in '91\nWonderful my days, herb dream comin' down\nPonna ponna! New sound leavin' cracks in the ground\nWhat's goin on, my man? Goddamn! And now my brain is hurtin'\nListen up! Busta, rhythm will hit 'em then I get 'em\nFlip on 'em, shit on 'em, hit on 'em, then I will sit on 'em\nOpen up your mouth if you want the food to get rude\nFlipmode, 'cause I'm in the mood\nAh-heh, ah-heh! Yeah, man, that's how it goes\nBody drippin' with blood comin' out the nose\nGive me a Band-Aid, what are you askin' for?\n(More!) Only your sacred and pure\nAdverse, Zig-Zag, check it and the Busta new rap\nRaps, Busta Rhymes, or bust this written rhymes\nYeah, y'all, in '92, I'm packin' my roach spray (Anyway!)\nTake a lick, Tribe Called Quest, Leaders of the New School\nMad brother when stealthy\nRRAOW! RRAOW! RRRAAAOW!\nTo my dragon babies, stop whinin'\nI see my influence still shinin'\nMore crazy in '92, uh oh, time to go, yo\nThat's the Scenario!"}
{"text":"46 Contributors1nce Again Lyrics\nYou on point, Phife?\nOnce again, Tip\nYou on point, Phife?\nOnce again, Tip\nYou on point, Phife?\nOnce again, Tip\nWord, watch me bust they shit\nOkay\n\nOhhhh, you did it to me once again, my friend\nI swear you do it to me every time\nCause you stay crazy on my mind\nYo, you got it goin' on (Say word)\nOn and on and on\nOn and on and on\nYeah, yeah, yeah, come on\n\nThis is the year that I come in and just devastate\nMy style is great, ask your peoples can I dominate?\nMy rhymes are harder than last night's erection\nDon't play me close, I'll have this mic up in your mid-section\nMy shit is lovely, simply meaning that my joint is tight\nAmping up the mic, making sure production's tight\nSometimes I might catch a severe case of writer's block\nBut by the end of the day, you'll be on my jock\nMy name's Malik, my hobby's putting MCs to the test\nAnd if you front, I'll put my foot up in your freaking chest\nFreestyle fanatic and never will it ever stop\nYour crew is his', you might just want to call the cops\nYou might also like\nAyy, yo, I gotta put some action on paper\nMake sure my verse jump up and spread out like the raper\nThe only tip I got for a waiter\nIs watch the doorknob hit me where the dirty dog should've bit me\nThat was my train of thought, but for so long I fought\nNow I'm at a level supreme to the devil\nSo turn up the bass and lay low on the treble\nWe be the real MCs and you dead, bring a shovel\nRevitalize, the vital Tribe nigga (WHAT?)\nThe ladies sweat the style like the squirrel sweat the nuts\nYou know a fella's good for the moola\nDon't smoke no woolas, read the name, call me Slick Tip the Ruler\n\nOhhhh, you did it to me once again, my friend\nI swear you do it to me every time\n'Cause you stay crazy on my mind\nYo, you got it goin' on\nOn and on and on\nOn and on and on (Yeah, yeah)\nYeah, yeah-yeah\n\nYo, I've been treading on this globe, man, for twenty-five joints\nSometimes Shaitan got me by the pressure points\nBut I can break a fella down like sex\nYou eat Wheat Chex but still light in the ass and can't flex\nIf one nigga front, I'ma make more pay\n'Cause tonight, we gettin off like O.J\nAnd yo, I got a Dawg that bites, fuck the barking\nYo, I got a crew with the beats and the smarts and\u2014\nI fought my shit up on Linden in the one-nine-two\nForever writing, never biting, ain't shit else to do\nHoping to battle, but most MCs ain't ready yet\nBut if they utter one word then it's as good as set\nYou have MCs dropping bombs that's incredible\nSome of the brothers, their styles are just despicable\nAs for me, see, I just do how I love to do\nTry to deny me of my props then I'll be seeing you\nMost of you suckers wanna be down for the tag-along\nThe freaking fame, someone tell 'em that this shit ain't games\nYou gots to do this from your heart, meaning your inner soul\nAnd if it's real, only then will you be on a roll\nI try to stay on top my game, there ain't no time to lose\nFour albums deep as a Quester but still we payin' dues\nSo hear me out one time, you gots to be yourself\n'Cause if you ain't yourself, you end up by your freaking self\nI'm coming rugged with the Linden Boule type of slang\nAnd yo, we'll see who can hang, yo\n\nYou on point, Tip?\nYo, once again, Phife\nYou on point, Tip?\nYo, once again, Phife\nYou on point, Tip?\nYo, once again, Phife\nAyy, yo, that kid is niiiiiiiice\nOhhhh, you did it to me once again, my friend\nI swear you do it to me every time, yeahhh\n'Cause you stay crazy on my mind, ohhhh\nYo, you got it goin' on, ohhhh-ohhhh\nOn and on and on, yeah\nOh yeah"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsGod Lives Through Lyrics\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\n\nThere's a million MC's that claim they want some\nBut see, I create sounds that make your ears go numb\nPeace to Sayres Ave., yeah, you know how we go\nMy best friend Steven at the Home Depot\nLaurelton is in the house, I can't forget Southside\nWalk past MC's like that girl did to Pharcyde\nI'm labeled as the cat's meow, the MC with the know-how\nAct like you know, not now, but right now\nBeast of the East, on MC's I have a feast\nI'd eat that ass like quiche, crack a smile like Shanice\nStraight outta Jamaica, seen? Jamaica, Queens\nBut you could find me out in Georgia, or anywhere in between\nNow, if my partners don't look good, Malik won't look good\nIf Malik don't look good, then Quest won't look good\nIf the Quest don't look good, then Queens won't look good\nBut since the sounds are universal, New York won't look good!\nPicture Phife losin' a battle \u2014 come on, get off it\nPut down the microphone, son \u2014 surrender, forfeit\nDid I hear somethin' 'bout a crew? What they wanna do?\nYou better call Mr. Babyface, so he can bring out the cool in you\nOr it'll be a sad love song bein' sung by Toni Braxton\nAnd I'll dissect you like a fraction\nOh, you wannabe top cat MC's? I'll pop you like a zit\nYou wanna be the champ? You more like Chief Some-shit\nBig up myself EVERY time when it comes to this\nMC's be runnin' scared as if they're watchin' The Exorcist\nI kick more game than a crackhead from Hempstead\nMy styles are milk, man, you'd think that I was breast-fed\nYou know the steelo when the diggy-Dawg is on the scene\nI dedicate this to all the MC's outta Queens\nThat goes for Onyx, LL, Run DMC\nAkinyele, Nasty Nas and the Extra P\nYou need a chart, straight up and down, man, there ain't no other\n'Nuff respect to all my peeps that made the album cover\nYo, Tip, don't worry none, you know I get the party jumpin'\nGet on the mic and break 'em off a lil' lil' somethin'\nYo, Tip don't worry none you know I gets the party jumpin'\nGet on the mic, my man, and break 'em off a lil' somethin'\nYou might also like\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\nOh, my God! Oh, my God!\n\nWe got the funk doody don shit, clearly it's the bomb shit\nSo recognize me, kids, memorize me\nEveryday, I be scroungin', rarely I be loungin'\nI play the down-low, very very incognito\nAries is my sign, I know that I can rhyme\nSometimes I rhyme in riddles, plus I make the honeys wiggle\nIntellect is the major, some heads like to wager\nThe skills on the hill, overlookin' dollar bills\nMan, you're crazy, thinkin' you can phase me\nThe Ab' doesn't study mere nonsense, money\nLife seems to need me, MC's seem too cheesy\nWith they booty ass renditions of defeatin' competition\nI rock to the roll, man, yes, I'm a soul man\nBet ya bottom dollar Vinia will make ya holla\nAs you stand at attention, did I forget to mention?\nMC's will give me twenty if I sense that they act funny\nLyrics are abundant, right there, I sound redundant\nJust mentionin' the fact that the area is fat\nI dwell in the under, so honey, it's no wonder\nThat I get plenty of tail, while I even get white\nI'ma bet hittin' head crack \u2014 there money, take that\nBreakin' niggas off, cut they bank, then I'm off\nWhile my Nikes match my Lo hat, beat joint is mad fat\nGot the cutter of the box if a kid think he's ox\nFor tier means creator, the poetry relator\nIt's hemmed like Betsy Ross, let me tell ya who's the boss\nLa-la-la (Oh my God!)\nLa-la-la (Oh my God!)\nLa-la-la, smooth it out y'all (Oh my God!)\nLa-la-la (Oh my God!)\nLa-la-la (Oh my God!)\nLa-la-la (Oh my God!)\nLa-la-la (Oh my God!)\nLa-la-la\n\nQueens got a...\nBrooklyn got a...\nBronx got a...\nStaten Island got a...\nLong Island got the zone\nJersey got a...\nPhilly got a...\nMilwaukee got a...\nL.A. got a...\nOaktown got the zone\nLa-la-la\nLa-la-la\nLa-la-la\nLa-la-la\nSee, I like to get down, Jack"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsRap Promoter Lyrics\nIt's a fly love song\n\nTo the effect of nothing, effective fronting\nIs what I don't allow so let me tell you something\nI am a bonafide\nNot too modest and not a lot of pride\nSoon to have a ride and a home to reside\nIf my mama is sick I'm by her bedside\nUsed to watch the show on Channel 4 called Riptide\nWash my wears in Tide cause it's too damn cold out-tide\nThat's how the runnings go\nIf there ain't no dough then there ain't no show\nSo take your roly poly fat promoter (ass)\nTo the Chemical Bank, and get my cash\nIf you wanna see the people scream and laugh\nYou best Quest, you ask the Quest, you ask real fast\nCause I don't wanna see 'em, start bucking\nThrowing chairs in the air while you be ducking\nWhat what? Don't step to me with that\nIf you promoting a show make sure it ain't wack\nOr else I'm leaving (\"Let me tell you\")\nI'm leaving (\"Let me tell you\")\nI'm leaving (\"Let me tell you\")\nYour wack show\nYou might also like\nYo man what's up with that?\nYo don't sweat me\nC'mon, five hundred, that was the deal\nC'mon man, don't try to play me out\nWe don't need you, sorry!\nAnd the Abstract rapper says\n\nI want chicken and orange juice, that's what's on my rider\nAnd my occasional potato by Ore-Ida\nDon't forget my pastry make sure they're tasty\nI'm not the type to be pushy or hasty\nSee I'm the type of bro that's reared in the ghetto\nTook a few shorts before\nNow the only ones I take are the ones that I wear\nAin't taking no shorts no more, now\nPlease act proper 'fore I call the CrimeStoppers\nDon't dip on the dough, cause that's a no-no\nMake sure you count your money real slow\nBe alert, look alive, and act like you know\nIt's, the 90s, time to make moves\nNot, the 80s, do away witcha womb\nSo what? You got a crew\nI got one too, they're called the Brooklyn Zu\nDon't break fool, let's be reserved and cool\nWe don't have to act like we in grade school\nJust make sure that we're taken care of\nAnd we'll do a fly show for ya bub, check it out\nDiggy dang diggy dang gi-dang gi-dang diggy diggy\nDang diggy dang gi-dang gi-dang diggy diggy\nDang diggy dang gi-dang gi-dang diggy diggy\nDang diggy dang gi-dang gi-dang diggy dig-"}
{"text":"42 ContributorsStressed Out Lyrics\nI really know how it feels to be\nStressed out, stressed out (Oh, yeah)\nWhen you're face to face with your adversity (Oh)\nI really know how it feels to be (Oh, oh)\nStressed out, stressed out (Oh, oh)\nWe're gonna make this thing work out eventually (Oh)\n\nYo, I ain't one to complain, but there's things in the game\n(What's your name?) Consequence\u2014I'm tight, burnt like flames\n(And why's that?) American dreams, they got this ghetto kid in a fiend\nDon't stress that, 'cause it's not in your bloodstream\nYour whole being comes from greatness\u2014d'you remember?\nShaytan got you caught in the storms of December\nAnd brothers on the block packing nines, like September\nCrazy situations keeps pockets on slender (Check it)\nYo, I be on the avenue where they be actin brand-new\nI'm splurging on these Reebok joints for shorty-boo\nAll of a sudden, I saw these two kids frontin'\nTalking out they joints but they wasn't saying nuttin'\nMy hand was on my toolie they was actin unruly\n(Say word) Yo, word up! Yo, I was tight, caught up\nBut I swallowed my pride and let that nonsense ride\nBecause I'm positive it seems that negative dies\nYo, we was at the dice game making these cats look silly\nFlamming, steady running off at the Willie\nI had my cash mixed, my rent due, with my play-dough\nI gotta see some loot, so on my girls, I blow\nShook them shits in my palm, let 'em hit the flo'\nKept my eyeballs scoping for them pigs, po-po\nI got to go on the ave'; see, my parole by four\nBut I gotta steady freak these boys like JoJo\nAnd I was doing it 'til I met Ike, Spike, and Mike\nOne roll, they had my pockets thirstier than Sprite\nYo, I know the feeling\u2014when you feeling like a villain\nYou be having good thoughts, but the evils be revealin'\nAnd the stresses of life can take you off the right path (No doubt)\nJealousy and envy tends to infiltrate your staff\nWe gotta hold it down so we can move on past\nAll adversities, so we can get through fast, like that\nYou might also like\nI really know how it feels to be, stressed out, stressed out\nWhen you're face to face with your adversity\nI really know how it feels to be, stressed out, stressed out\nWe're gonna make this thing work out eventually\n\nYou got the N.W.O. (Low cash flow)\nYour baby's on the way (And you don't know who)\nAnd crosstown niggas trying to (Bust at you)\nAiyyo they got me stressed out (And you don't know what to do)\nSo frame this Kodak, black, and vision to my contact\nWith a poultry scrap, workers get pistol smacked\nThe switch-hitting Queens, niggas liquid sword spittin\nWith raw poppy, and now your first love is krill\nYour vision of the mil got crept like Hey Lover\nTried to rise to the top, you just couldn't recover\nAnd all I want is my laceration of the pie\nTo get this whipped cream before the water runs dry\nNiggas flash dancing, yo, I don't know why\nYou're sick of snitching, she got you cruising to the pokey\nLike Smokey, the stress be trying to squeeze out a homey\nWhile I'll be trying to get star status like Shinobi\nSo we can build a dynasty, just like the Toby's\nAnd all I want is the world to know my steez\nThese money-hungry niggas is seven thirty\nAnd got me stressed out like these frog emcees\nI really know how it feels to be, stressed out, stressed out\nWhen you're face to face with your adversity\nI really know how it feels to be, stressed out, stressed out\nWe're gonna make this thing work out eventually\n\nDon't worry we gon make it (gonna make it)\nDon't worry we gon make it (oh yeah)\nDon't worry we gon make it (gonna make it)\nWe gon make it (gotta make it)\nDon't worry we gon make it (gotta make it)\nWe're gonna make it (we gotta make it)\nDon't worry we gon make it (we gonna make it)\nWe gonna make it (oh)\nDon't worry we gon make it (oh)\nDon't worry we gon make it (gonna make it)\nDon't worry we gon make it (oh)\nWe gon make it\nDon't worry we gon make it\nI know we gonna make it (we're gonna make it)\nC'mon baby we gon make it (yeah)\nWe gon make it (yeah-ah)\nDon't worry we gon make it (we're gonna make it)\nWe've gotta make it (we've gotta make it)\nWe've gotta make it (oh yeah)\nKnow we're gonna make it\nWe're gonna make it, gonna make it\nWe gotta make it, know we gonna make it"}
{"text":"65 ContributorsKeep It Rollin\u2019 Lyrics\nA-yo, swing-swing-swing, to chop-chop-chop\nYo, that's the sound when MC's get mopped\nDon't come around town without the hip in ya hop\n'Cause when the shit hits the fan, that ass'll get dropped\nMC's wanna attack me, but them punks can't cope\nI'll have you left without a job, like Isaac from The Love Boat\nSo money, watch your mouth, or I'ma have to bust ya\nBattlin' MC's from JFK to Russia\nBack down to London, Sweden and Brazil\nDo a U.S. tour for three months, and then I chill\nStyles be fat like Jackie Gleason, the rest be Art Carney\nPeople love the Dawg like the kids love Barney\n\"I love you, you love me\"\nThe shorty Phife Dawg is your favorite MC\nSo move back yaself, dread, you know the element\nThe Tribe is good for ya health like a can of Nutrament\nMC's don't have no wins, MC's don't have no (bitches)\nI flip shit crazier than a busload full of Jerry's Kids\nYour crew don't want it, and your crew don't want it!\nBut if you feel you can swing it, then money, please bring it\nLarge Professor in the house, you know how we do\nI skate on your crew like Mario Lemieux\nPeace to Ike Love and the rest of the crew\nI'll meet you guys in front the cleaners\nBring the blunts and the brew, so...\nYou might also like\nWhassup, kids? The Ab is speakin' from the moon\nThanks for your support, a-yo, I'll be home soon\nBut the only thing I ask when I return from my task\nIs a whole bunch of beats and a flask full of ass\nMy fist stands firm because I'm, black and solid\nI open up your pores like a plate full of collards\nC'mon, take it easy, would ya? Easy, easy\nI'm up in the gulley, that's when I am her Buddy\nShe told me pull her hair, I did, it drove her nutty\nFilled up the hole like spackle, oh, I mean putty\nWhen we over joints like this, we never cruddy\nExtra P hooked the beat, and kids, it feels luh-ove-ly\nCheck it out, 'cause my conception is immaculate\nA bachelor, lookin' for a bachelorette\nBack to you MC's, this is what you gonna get\nA first-degree burn from my man Ken's cigarette\nI hope you like Marlboro\nPaul, you know we thorough like Denver\nThe beat feels like a never-ender\nBut all things good must, so I won't sweat it\nDrop the seeds for the youthful crew, I hope you get it\nAs I stand, grip this mic inside my hand\nBoy, I'll smack you up like I was your old gran\nSo respect yourself, son, and come and gimme love\nOnce again, the Ab' is who you think of\nSo chill with the beef, money, we gotta dead it!\nIt's Extra P, and yo, Tip, I'm 'bout to set it\nOn the country once again, here to win\nI'm Uptown chillin', takin' in this Grandmaster Vic blend\nFrom the projects, the PJ's\nFuck them two DJ's! Self mission\nI had her in the ill position\nSayin', \"Large, you's the soul brother that I'd like to 'F' with\nFor the rest of my life\" \u2014 Yeah, yeah, now check the method\nAs I, proceed with what you need like Akinyele\nA whip looks complete when the tires say Pirelli\nFunk monkey, one rapper fell off, now he's a junkie\nThere's 8 million stories in the city, it's a pity\nDon't fuck with the skins if she's tryin' to act shitty\nBig shout to the Guru, Primo and Zulu Nation\nWas on a vacation, in the ghetto\nYo, Ras, slow your roll, I'm 'bout to bag this here schmeydl\nRapper Nas on top, it seems we gonna rock it\nQueens represent, buy the album when I drop it"}
{"text":"38 ContributorsThe Hop Lyrics\nYeah, move your body, inside the party\nWe 'bout to bring it to you kid, like we never ever did\nMy nigga Al G in it, my nigga Shaheed in it\nWe got the girl Kristine in it, got my man Big G in it\n\nA-yo, inside the ghetto or in a sunny meadow\nI'ma make you move, whether woman or fellow\nYo, I got the medals in the Warfield of respect\nLike an ill porno, make ya body get wet\nJust a ghetto child trying to live a straight and narrow\nHoping that my shit will pierce your dome like an arrow\nI'm sure it will, especially if it's God's will\nMC's be ready to die 'cause I'ma kill\nAll your negative feelings standing on two feet\nWhile I make the hotties move to the hip-hop beat\nYou know it's realer killer, realer than you can imagine\nUsing every source of pain in my range to make it happen\nIf I make it happen, that means I'm making motion\nAnd I'm doing my thing causing an ill commotion\nEverybody do the hop, make it smooth like lotion\nI lay up in the piece on a incognotion\n\nYou gotta do the hop, you move to the beat, you don't stop\nNow everybody here, you do the hop\nYou going up to cop, Uptown for a brick, don't stop\nYou gotta come back and do the hop\nYo, fuck the cops, you gotta come back and do the hop\nMove 'til your body won't stop\nYou gotta do the hop, non-stop motion, non-stop\nYou gotta come back and do the, do the...\nYou might also like\nYou see you, your career is done like Johnny Carson's\nGet me vexed, I do like Left Eye, start an arson\nNow that I got that out my system\nWatch me stab up the track as if my name was OJ Simpson\nI packs it in like Van Halen\nI work for mine, you, you're freeloading like Kato Kaelin\nI'm representing with my crew\nMess around, bite my rhymes, I'll beat that ass with my shoe\nC'mon, you know I'm crazy nice\nBrothers can't deal with the shorty named Phife\nYou must be mad in the head\nI bust his ass and leave 'im blood clot for dead\nNiggas sound like Das EFX\nIf it ain't Das EFX then they sounding like Meth\nYou might as well do Megadeth\nY'all punk MCs better save your freaking breath\nYou's a corny motherfucker\nYou must be high smoking dust with Chris Tucker\nY'all faggot asses don't want this\nI pull more peeps than the peeps at the premier of Pocohantas\nWord is bond I am the baddest\nAnd all you honeys out there, word is bond, you know my status\nSo come and pull your panties down\nThis ain't the Barnum Bailey show, I don't get down with the clowns\nSo why don't you and your friends get with me and my friends\nBut don't bring your ass by and you ain't got no ends\nWord is bond, it don't stop\nJust ease your mind, come along and do the hop\nYou gotta do the hop, you move to the beat, you don't stop\nCome on everybody, do the hop\nEven if you cop, you gotta come back and do the hop\nYou move to the beat, you don't stop\nYou smoking jump rocks, you gotta just stop and do the hop\nThen you come back and do the hop\nYou know we don't stop, we on the ghetto prize on the top\nYou know we come back and do the hop\nShorties in the place, all the shorty rocks, do the hop\nYou gotta come back and do the hop\nWe never go on pop, you know we come back, we do the hop\nThis is how it is, we do the hop\nYou move to the beat, then come on everybody, don't..."}
{"text":"(Dun D-D-D-Deal, hey)\nI done came up (Yeah)\nBustin' down a whole bag (Bag)\nBroke nigga, step back (What?)\nWhy don't you peep a nigga's swag? (Yeah)\nYou ain't even gotta ask (What?)\nWhat are those? What is that? (Yeah)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (Please don't touch my Raf)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (What?)\nI'm racked up like rappers (Uh)\nI'm Raf-d up on camera (That's Rick)\nGet knocked out on camera (All this Rick)\nSqueeze pump like asthma (Yeah, what?)\nIt's rare Raf when I wear Raf (Uh)\nBare Raf when I wear Raf (Rick)\nMight invest into some Raf shares (All this Rick)\nLil' niggas still share Raf (What?)\nYeah and I'm drippin' on racks (Uh)\nRick Owens be the tag (Rick)\nDo the digital dash (All this Rick)\nYeah, I'm boastin', never brag (Yah)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (What?)\nBought a Kris Van Assche (Yeah)\nAlessandro Gucci glasses (Yeah)\nJ.W. Anderson collab (Uh)\nYeah, she pop it like a MAC (What?)\nYeah, she drop it on the bag (Uh)\nI'ma buy another bag (Bag up)\n'Cause she always bring it back (Uh)\nYeah, you know how to make it last (Yeah)\nPlus, a nigga keepin' tabs (Uh)\nI'ma fly first class (Uh)\nQuavo hit 'em with the dab (Yeah)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (Please don't touch my Raf)\nYou might also like\nHo, don't step on my Raf Simons (Yeah, Raf)\nHo, don't step on my Raf Simons (Uh, Raf)\nHo, don't step on my Raf Simons (Ooh)\nDo you know how much I'm spendin'? (Huh, ooh)\nMy closet, it worth 'bout a milli' (Milli', yeah, yeah)\nTook the lil' bitch out the runway (Yeah, uh)\nNow she naked in the kitchen (Uh)\nRaf Simons (Ayy)\nAll kind of crazy colors (Ayy, ayy)\nLivin' color (Colors)\nLeft wrist, Rollie butters (Ice)\nMaison Margiela my sweater (Margiela)\nMama told me never settle (Mama)\nRaf Simons, don't lace 'em (It's Raf)\nGot your bitch, wanna date her (Ooh)\n\nHuh? What?\nDon't want 'em talkin' 'bout the paper\nI swear to God these niggas be haters (Yeah)\nThey be hatin', I feel all the vapors\nLive in cul-de-sac, don't get along\nOoh, right with my neighbors (Yeah)\nDiamonds on my neck and Rollie on\nNow Atlanta got all different flavors\nHit that bitch right on with my lightsaber\nOoh, feel like Darth Vader\nI'm a boss so you know I might Wraith you\nOoh, Raf in my basement (Yeah)\nYeah, pass the gas\nBut you know that I'm gon' face it\nWait, that's the reason that they mad\n'Cause Lil Uzi, yeah, he made it, ayy (Yeah)\nI wore that Raf 'fore I made it, yeah\nI wore that Raf 'fore I made it, yeah\nGot that Raf all in my basement, yeah\nFuck your bitch once, ain't got patience, yeah (Yeah)\nFuck your bitch once 'cause I'm famous, yeah\nPut my side bitch in Marc Jacobs, ayy\nMakin' them plays with my label\nI get it, I count it, hundred on my table (Yeah)\nWe gon' need a bigger table, though\nNeed some cable, tired of watchin' basic\nWouldn't sign ya if I had a label\nThat designer on a nigga label, fuego\nDown the bottle, still under the limit\nI could buy your bitch just off my debit\nI could buy her, not fuck up my credit\nAin't no executives flexin' my blessings\nAin't no middleman cuttin' my blessings\nI got all of this flick for the Lord's worship\nYou ain't slammin', got the Asperger's\nI'ma drag that nigga, he deserve it\nI'ma read his ass like a LaBeija (Drag)\nAnna Wintour cool with my mama (True)\nAnd it's winter fool, need a bomber\nPlate of ravioli at Obama's, right, right, right\nCan't you see I'm eating (What's poppin'?)\nWrist like ravioli, stuffed with diamonds, right, right?\nWe don't have the same problems\nI get Raf Simons 'cause I'm gifted\nThat means sometimes I get it and don't even want it\nGive Raf Simons when I'm giftin'\nThat means sometimes I give it, you know that you want it (Yeah)\n\nSterling silver lasers (Yessir)\nRubies red, my skin too black to blush\nThis bitch too rare to bust\nSeen her in the iPhone pages\nThis ain't on the Gram, Wizard of O-Z\nParka pockets full of med leaf\nGuap is smelling like it brush teeth\nSay cheese, see the porcelain (Flair)\nXans and water, see swordfish (Plenty)\nBackwoods all forestry\nRaf draggin' on the floor, bitch\nFlamethrower in it, in it (Flame, flame)\nI'm torchin' the road in these Gucci flames (Heat)\nStuck to the pavement, they glued (Sticky)\nI'm two-point-five million a venue\nAnd twenty-five hundred a tooth (True)\nI'm coatin' my lungs in the muddy\nI'm cold like I'm sick with the flu (Brr)\nI cover my face and I'm bloody (Yeah, brr)\nThat Spring\/Summer 2002, two, two (Two, two)\nYeah, please don't touch my Raf\nSleep in the grass, Teddy\nSleep with the Teddy\nQuick with the hands, ready (Ready)\nPlease don't touch my bag\nPlease don't touch my Raf\nShirt off, I'm cam ready (Ready)\nDeadstock in memory (Memory)\nPlease don't pop my tag"}
{"text":"Yeah, yeah I'm, y'all know what it is\nYeah I'm, yeah I'm, (Shut the fuck up) yeah I'm, yeah I'm, yeah I'm\nYeah I'm\n\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, yeah, these niggas fake\nNo, we can't relate\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, this is how we live\nBitches, bitches, bitches, bitches (You know it)\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, yeah, these niggas fake\nNo, we can't relate (We do it)\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, this is how we live\nBitches, bitches, bitches, bitches\nYeah, I'm gettin' cake, yeah, it's no debate\nYeah, I fornicate with foreign hoes that I date, like, every day\nYeah, I rock the Raf, yeah, I bought the Wraith\nYeah, I'm out of state, yeah, I like to race\nYeah I'm, yeah I'm, yeah I'm, yeah I'm, yeah (You know it)\nI wake up late, yeah, I'm out of shape, yeah, I'm eatin' cr\u00eapes\nYeah, I'm sippin' wine, yeah, she feed me grapes (Grapes)\nShe make no mistakes, me make no complaints\nI love how she think she graduated with that brain\nShe go to\u2026\nYou might also like\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, yeah, these niggas fake\nNo, we can't relate\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, this is how we live\nBitches, bitches, bitches, bitches\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, yeah, these niggas fake\nNo, we can't relate (You know it)\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, this is how we live\nBitches, bitches, bitches, bitches (Shut the fuck up)\nTool on my waist, shades on my face\nMoney in the bank, make no mistake\nNast does it great\nYeah, hoes wanna fuck, car parked out front\n7:45 on the fuckin' dot, your bitch down to ride (You know it)\nLeavin' wit' me 'cause I'm a G\nMade in the streets, rep for the streets\nSo I keep a piece (Let's get it)\nNiggas try to front, act if he want\nAct like he tough, end up in a box layin' on the side (Magic)\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, yeah, these niggas fake\nNo, we can't relate\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, this is how we live\nBitches, bitches, bitches, bitches (Bitches)\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, yeah, these niggas fake\nNo, we can't relate\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, this is how we live\nBitches, bitches, bitches, bitches\nMama told me, \"Save that money\u2014bank accounts\u2014don't spend that bread.\"\nCash out on new necklaces, 14 karat bracelet\nDibble dabble with the lean\nHi-Tech with the cream soda\nAs I whipped the yola\nLambo red, Coca Cola\nMy bros, Cosa Nostra\nRidin' on a speedboat\nShe suckin', lickin', deep-throat\nRey Mysterio\nWhen I'm jumpin' off the top rope\nBanana clip with the scope\nWearin' all white\nLike I'm the mothafuckin' pope (Alright)\nI'm on a Yamborghini high, flyin' high through the sky, hey, yo\nYammy's vision got us rich, catch a nigga flyin' by in a Lambo\nSippin' the Henny got me gone, now I'm gettin' in my zone, hey yo\nR.I.P. to my nigga, the gallon goin' to my dome, hey yo\nThis how it feel to be rich, fuckin' bitches in the mix, yeah\nWhere dick eaters is at? Yamborghini with the shits, yeah\nLil Newport lit, Young Lord with the shits, yeah\nI ain't with the game, bitch, she blow my cartridge, yeah\nMy jewelry glistening why I\u2019m always chilly\nCan't believe a nigga made a couple milli'\n'Bout to cop the house way up in the hillies\nWith a bad bitch in the Bentley\nWood grain with the roof gone\nMake a bitch fold like a futon\nGettin' bread like a crouton\nTell me what the fuck is you on\n\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, yeah, these niggas fake\nNo, we can't relate (You know it)\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, this is how we live\nBitches, bitches, bitches, bitches\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, yeah, these niggas fake (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)\nNo, we can't relate\nYamborghini-high, Lambo by the crib\nThis is how it is, this is how we live\nBitches, bitches, bitches, bitches\n\nOG, nigga keep it low key\nCoolin' in the low ride\nTourin' with the Rollies\nRollin', chiefin' OG\nDamn I got the smoke right\nLet you get the floor seats\nForeign hoes, foreign freaks, all that on the boat trip\nNigga I'm an OG\nGot it for the dope fiends, product of the dope game\n\nKushed out, leaned out, know what I'm talkin' 'bout\nKushed out, leaned out, know what I'm talkin' 'bout\nKushed out, leaned out, know what I'm talkin' 'bout\nKushed out, leaned out, know what I'm talkin' 'bout\nKushed out, leaned out, know what I'm talkin' 'bout\nKushed out, leaned out, know what I'm talkin' 'bout\nKushed out, leaned out, know what I'm talkin' 'bout\nKushed out, leaned out, know what I'm talkin' 'bout"}
{"text":"Brr, brr, brr, brr\nRing, ring, ring, postman\nWho this?\n(Nash effect)\n\nTelephone call from Yung Carti, said it's lit\nCall the young lord A$AP Bari, he legit (Moneybag)\nAnd the young boy Ian Connor off the shit (Young Lord)\nFuckin' with them boys out of Harlem or the 6\nThis is Gosha\nMan, I pay for pussy? No sir\nRidin' coaster\nRoller coaster, chauffeur\n\nI got money bags\nI'ma bag your bitch, I'ma buy your bitch\n(I got money bags, turn up, turn up)\nI'ma cash this shit, I'ma cash this shit\n(I got money bags, turn up, turn up)\nCash Carti, bitch, Cash Carti, bitch\n(Carti, Carti)\nYou can have this shit, you can have this shit\n(What you want, yo?)\nYou might also like\nGodfather rap, nappy plaits to the back\nJames Brown swag, Papa's got a brand-new bag\nAnd I don't know how to act\nOn or off the record, might go axe\nHarlem back up on the map\nTrue New York will knock the Apple out you Jacks\nPop your Snapple cap, pop facts\nGucci and Dior biddin' wars\nWho wore the piece before they hit the floor?\nNot even shit you see overseas in stores\nWho else but me? I know you seen the Forbes\nCommend your boy, I been the Lord\nHoly tabernacle, Mister Smack-Your-Favorite-Rapper\nGreedy for the fat guy's platter\nKillin' niggas even though black lives matter\nWeak stomach, flow make 'em throw up\nSteppin' stones, I'm your stepfather\nTell Tyler, better step his flow up\nMix the pour up with the Pepsi Cola\nNextel or the Motorola\nYoung nigga prolly never grow up\nPostman with the telephone, uh\n\nRing, ring, ring, postman\nWho this?\nFuck with Taco, fuck with Jasper\nFuck with Lionel, man that shit is gon' get sketchy\nShirt is striped, my shorts are short\nMy Vans are Vans 'cause Tyler does not fuck with Giuseppe\nFuck the Gucci, fuck the Raf\nAnd fuck the swag and all that other shit they wearin'\nFuck the Rolls and fuck the 'Rari\nFuck the Lambo', Tyler only ride McLaren\nNiggas think they really on because they trappin'\nMade about like 30 thousand\nFuck the party, threw the carnival\nAttendance this year was like 30 thousand\nShoppin', ballin', opal fire diamonds shinin'\nMake sure my sapphire's glistenin'\nMake the shit, I wear the shit\nThey cop the shit, it's Golf, you bitch, you niggas trippin'\nI'm a businessman, you ain't never been the man\nNigga tax bracket changed, like have you seen my home?\nCrib got a tennis court\nGet my Venus and Serena on\nGolf in this bitch, better ring the doctor\nAmbulance come when I hit the scene\nThat boy flier than a bag of bees\nI got my flowers, life's a jeweler\nDiamond, fingers size of a tumor\nHe's a genius, have you heard the rumors?\nHe's a winner, no not a loser\nFuck passin' blunts, pass my niggas' opportunities\nGoddamn, I'm hot, man, I'm not scared to freeze\nJanuary, Hawaiian shirts\nBoy this weather ain't got a thing on me\nWhere's the mirror? I'm that nigga\nKunta ain't got much shit on me\n'Cause I'm a master, I hit my own back\nTo be like, \"Y'all boys, my nigga\"\nFuck that, it's Golf, bitch\nDoin' it for Yams, ayy, ayy\nI used to do it for the grams, ayy, ayy\nThat's been way before Instagram, ayy, ayy\nI used to serve it to your mans, ayy\nPostman, who this?\nWalk, Gleesh, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, Gleesh, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, Gleesh, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, Gleesh, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, Gleesh, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, walk, walk, walk\nWalk, walk, walk"}
{"text":"Ah, it's a plane, it's a bird, it's a zombie, hahaha\n\nThe highest high, I'm Ayatollah\nRubber on my dick, allergic to baby strollers\nBlue dream, that amazing odor\nAnt is a Pyrex, I'm the coke and the baking soda\nJuice be the blue flame that create the whole thing\nRap game, crack game, apparently the same thing\nIf this was eighty-something, I'd be in shell toes\nGucci-link fat rings, ashy ass elbows\nSaving every penny tryna get up out this hellhole\nFor my super thugs hustling up off the jail phone\nLife's a battle, fool, you better have your weapon drawn\nHow could I be scared of death? Bitch, I'm already gone\nMoney on my mind, your bitch on my zipper\nBreaking up pound after pound, THC on every finger\nYou gon' need a boost from God to get as high as me, nigga\nExcuse me, I meant to say as high as we, nigga\n\nFlatbush Zombie, A$AP Mobbing\nHit a killswitch and put an end to any problem\nFlatbush Zombie, A$AP Mobbing\nHit a killswitch and put an end to any problem, bitch!\nYou might also like\nHash and weed, hash in a bong\nGot weed by the ton, got blow by the load\nIf you wanna get throwed, A$AP Ant got the po-tion\nThree fly ass bitches with weed\nDouble-cupped them double Ds\nHi-high nigga, hi-high living\nThree young ass niggas running shit, no slipping\nGotta know the game, gotta know the lane\nGotta know the pain, no handouts, ain't shit easy\nDark shades, on my Eazy-E\nGot bitches on my mini-me\nAnd you niggas in the rap game, can't relate\nI'm real pimping, no fornicating\nFuck what you heard, I'm going ape\nSmoking Grape Ape, fuck your mixtape\nThat's a weed plate, Zombie style\nA$AP, never mind these clowns\nI love brain, Zombie style, never mind these clouds\n\nJuice, pass me the weed\nMeech, where the acid at?\nA$AP Ant in this bitch, uh\n\nI-I'm a demon, triple-beaming, painting pictures\nRaping Mona Lisa, blood sheets, creeping for the panties\nWith the collar dannys, killing bitches, sniffing panties\nWilly Wonka candy semen, three niggas, one bitch, one clip\nOne brain dead girl off your mind, leave your brains on your moms\nRazor blades dipped in bleach, tear your skin to piece\nDump the body in Tennessee, highway getaway\nOJ Bronco, cap it, baby\nDrive 'em off the bridge, look into my eyes, vivid tears\nI see fear, y'all some fucking queers\nGrow a fucking pair, I'm 'posed to be here\n'Posed to be dead, overdosed on shrooms\nLet's cruise, drive by on-site\nRide like a bike, for my Zombie homies kill tonight\nF-F-F-Flatbush Zombie, A$AP Mobbing\nHit a killswitch and put an end to any problem\nFlatbush Zombie, A$AP Mobbing\nHit a killswitch and put an end to any problem, bitch!\n\nA$AP niggas, we aliens, cold-blooded nigga, reptilian\nA-a-acid, acid, Ambiens, only fuck a bitch if she lesbian\nTrill niggas run the city, got the key on lock\nJuice got the juice, nigga Meech gon' pop\nAddie in the Caddy with the heat on cock\nWhen a Mac go brrat cause the beef don't stop, niggas\nMy name is that pretty motherfucker\nFrom the land of the lost of the gully and the gutta\nSee the Breds made a toast for the honey and the butter\nOnly die for two things, that's my money and my mother, motherfucker\nNiggas know my name, did I stutter?\nNiggas know me, man, I keep it one hunna\nI'm a stunna, Hood by Air for the summer\nToast to the Gods and it cost nine hunna\nSo-so-so-so ru-run up if you wanna\nMAC in the backpack, right by the MacBook\nAnd I rep that Harlem\nAnd my Zombie niggas straight out of Flatbush\nI'm 'bout to get our boost up\nThey gonna have to pay 900 for our tees Bari\nFuck all that, fuck all that $100 tee, $200 tee shit\nWanna look like me nigga\nYou gonna have to pay a stack on rack, nigga\nMake a bitch catch a heart attack when they see this price tag, nigga\nToast to the Gods nigga, hahahah\nI'ma come clean my nigga\nI be that pretty motherfucker, hahahah"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsHella Hoes Lyrics\nHoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought that chopper and that pistol with the scope\n\nHoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got\n\nI got a start in these streets, extra hard for these hoes\nWe move hard in these streets, young God, X'in' them O's\nI'm like God in these streets, got a tech in my coat\nI go hard in these streets, Johnny Depp with the blow\nI flip nickels and O's, I flip powder in bass\nI done shoveled the snow, I done showered the state\nSee them flowers gon' grow and the power gon' raise\nAnd we came through the door, here we got us a race\n\nAll these diamonds in my teeth\nI'm gone off a gallon of Hennessy\nBetter let your bitch go cause she's feelin' me\nAnd besides she a ho, she fucked him and me\nAnd I gave her the beast like I'm Timothy\nMoonwalk in that pussy like Billie Jean\nAnd I open your chest like you Janet Jackson\nAnd I blam-blam like you Timberlake\nI put him in a lake and I penetrate\nLet it sit in your face like a dinner date\nThen bust open your grill, let it ventilate\nAnd my niggas is killers, what can I say?\nWith a crew of gorillas like 50 Cent\nAnd they peelin' bananas, no dinner plate\nAnd I'm only gon' ride with my syndicate\nA$AP 'til I die, nigga, period\nYou might also like\nHoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got\n\nUh, pretty mothafucka, pull up in this bitch like\nUh, jiggy mothafucka, hella hoes on my dick like\nUh, really with the shit, if a nigga trip, loadin' up the clip\nNever slip, tight, never sleep, finna let it rip in this bitch like\nPistols poppin', pussies droppin'\nNiggas coppin', bottles poppin'\nRoxies choppin', Oxycontin, word to A$AP Lotto\nLive down Collins mobbin' slow\nSyrup got me throwed, mouth is full of gold\nIf I overdose, just let 'em know\nAlright, I got hella hoes\n\nHoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got\nHoes"}
{"text":"95 ContributorsFeels So Good Lyrics\nYuh, I can't relate, uh, yuh (No)\nTo none of you, rappers are actors\nI swear that these niggas be fake, uh (No, yuh, yuh, ayy)\nFuck out my face (Face, fuck out my face)\nYuh, way too much food on my plate for her to be actin' all stank\nYuh, uh, diamonds on bling (Bling blaww-blaww)\nYuh, we smoked out, my bitch is so bad\nI had to go buy her a mink, whew (Mink, ayy)\nFuck what you think, yuh (Fuck what you, fuck what you think)\nYeah, 'cause me and the money in love, I think I'ma buy it a ring\n\nMy diamond's shinin', yours cloudy\nDiamond's ice, play hockey\nLean got me feelin' drowsy\nStripper bitch, she work at Follies\nMeet me at the hotel lobby\nAir Max, runnin' to the money\nYou ain't takin' nothin' from me\nAnd I'm gon' die 'bout it\n\n(Focus...)\nFrom demons, distractions\nTo all the reactions of fame\nShe probably collapse, and a heart of attack\nAnd I'm blowin' a kiss on the way\nProduction big, can't fit on a stage\nToo many fans to fit in the crowd\nToo many bands to get 'em on stage\nHis crew and his mans is with him on stage\nI say in advance, so pay in advance\nI'm way too advanced to figure him out\nI set the bar, don't give 'em a break\nThe bar's too high to give it a raise\nA flow, like God, so give him a raise\nStones I got, I get 'em appraised\nDraw my Glock and get him erased\nFlow you got, I give it away\nYou might also like\nYuh, I can't relate, uh, yuh (No, no)\nTo none of you, rappers are actors\nI swear that these niggas be fake, uh (No, yuh, yuh, ayy)\nFuck out my face (Face, fuck out my face)\nYuh, way too much food on my plate for her to be actin' all stank\n\nNiggarace, new Versace\nSippin' sake with my posse (Yeah, ah)\nEat that pussy like Hibachi\nLeave it wet, that dick Dasani (Ah, alright)\nSalvador Dal\u00ed, her body (Yeah)\nIt's a work of art, you copy? (Yeah, Ferg)\nNigga, all she do Pilates\nI go hard, you rappers copy (Ooh, damn)\n\n'Cause it feels so good when it's you\nAnd it feels so good when it's new\n'Cause it feels so good when it's new (Ayy)\nWhy you actin' like you ain't knew?\n\nNiggarace, new Versace\nI be mobbin' with my posse\nStretch that coochie like pilates\nI'm gon' eat it like Hibachi\nPlay no game, no Tamagotchi\nFinger froze like Liberace\nFuck that bitch, I make her knock knee\nWhile I rep Trilluminati\nYah, oh, right\nPelle Pelle, butter soft, we was in 'em lobbies\nHolla, holla, steady mobbin', only God can stop me, huh\nDollar signs, a lot of diamonds, I'm about to sign me\nCop a Tommy, yeah, the Tommy\nThousand band like Fauni, yeah\nAll in the forest, hey\nLookin' for porridge, hey\nRicky in storage, fresh with the chorus\nDressed like a tourist, hey, yeah\nThat's with the bomber, huh\nFuck up some commas, hey, hmm\nGlock for the drama, hey\nDo what I want, fuck when I wanna...\n\n'Cause it feels so good when it's you\nAnd it feels so good when it's new\n'Cause it feels so good when it's new (Ayy)\nWhy you actin' like you ain't knew?\n\n(Niggarace) Yuh, I can't relate, uh, yuh (No)\nTo none of you, rappers are actors\nI swear that these niggas be fake, uh (No, yuh, yuh, ayy)\n(Niggarace) Fuck out my face (Face, fuck out my face)\nYuh, way too much food on my plate for her to be actin' all stank\nYuh, uh, diamonds on bling (Bling blaww-blaww)\nYuh, we smoked out, my bitch is so bad\nI had to go buy her a mink, whew (Mink, ayy)\nFuck what you think, yuh (Fuck what you, fuck what you think)\nYeah, 'cause me and the money in love, I think I'ma buy it a ring\nYuh (What?)"}
{"text":"Pyroman\nHey, wait, come again\nWait, hey, uh\n\nMe and Rocky sippin' sake up in Paris\nEating calamari\nMe and Carti at a party with some shawties\nSay what's up to Bari, ayy\nVandalizing your Ferrari, am I hating?\nNo, I roll with Cartier\nSippin' Dom P\u00e9rignon\nWhole squad's on Perrier\n\nOut in Paris like I'm Perry Ellis\nParisian people love parasailing\nParallel park the 911\nParisian stones, fuck your VVSes\nUnited Kingdom with the French connection\nFrench kissin' and Parisian sexin'\nFrench girls, French fries (Ayy, come again)\nFrench toast, French Goyard e'ry day\n\nMe and Rocky sippin' sake up in Paris\nEating calamari\nMe and Carti at a party with some shawties\nSay what's up to Bari, ayy (Yeah, yeah)\nVandalizing your Ferrari, am I hating?\nNo, I roll with Cartier (Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh)\nSippin' Dom Perignon\nWhole squad's on Perrier\nYou might also like\nYeah, yeah, yeah, ooh\nRocking that tee with a V\nFucking that bitch out the T and the V, ooh\nDucking the T-M the Z, ooh\nFashion week bitch overseas, ooh\nFucking my team for the week, ya\nFucking my team with no fee, ya\nFucking my team for the free, ya\nAyy, ayy, yeah (Skrrt, woah, skrrt, woah)\n\nFuck bein' humble\nLittle bitch, I'm from the jungle, ayy (Word)\nHaters talk down but every time they do\nThey always fucking mumble (Word, word)\nLil nigga, when you talkin' to a boss\nWatch how you're talkin' (Word)\nCause I got some niggas that pull up right now\nAnd put you in a coffin (Blrrt buck, bow!)\nYeah, put 'em in a coffin (Ayy)\nI ain't playin' with these niggas, uh (Wait)\nNasty back and I'm bossin' (Boss) (Wait, come again)\n\nMe and Rocky sippin' sake up in Paris\nEating calamari\nMe and Carti at a party with some shawties\nSay what's up to Bari, ayy\nVandalizing your Ferrari, am I hating?\nNo, I roll with Cartier\nSippin' Dom P\u00e9rignon\nWhole squad's on Perrier"}
{"text":"I just robbed a lil' (What? Ooh)\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\n\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\n\nWe can touch the water, bitch, I walk\nWalk on top of water, slime\nWe can touch the water, bitch, I walk\nWalk on top of water, slime\n\nFade on me like I'm Boosie, bitch she popping her coochie\nMy girl, she look like a stripper\nCodeine in a Kool-Aid pitcher\nPut diamonds on my sister\nPut Prada on my mama\nEating Benihana's, filled up off the lobster\nPasta like a mobster, reds got me proper (Yeah)\nOn a tropic island (Yeah), TMZ watching\nYou might also like\nI'm a money man, I got her running away\nCome up off that pussy, make some money today\nFetti provolone, she fell in love with the guap\nLeave your man at home, and I'ma make you a star\nTake you round the world, you can't pronounce where we are\nI just robbed a little nigga, and I'm takin' his broad\n\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\n\nWe can touch the water, bitch I walk\nWalk on top of water, slime\nWe can touch the water, bitch I walk\nWalk on top of water\nWe can touch the water, bitch I walk\nWalk on top of water, slime\nWe can touch the water (Yah) bitch I walk (Wah, yah)\nWalk on top of water (Bitch I, yeah) slime (Bitch I, ay)\n\nBig bank Nasty in this hoe, man\nI might fuck around and fuck a little nigga's hoe, man\nYou know how the game go, you know that shit for sure, man\nFuck yo bitch one night, she blow the next, they just like propane\nSpend a lil' shopping money on a lil' Dolce\nPrada and that Gucci plus Chanel, she love the clothes game\nTold her if she fuck me right, she could get what she wanted\nIt ain't nothin' to me, I just call up my accountant\nGuap\nYou see me on water, walking on it like Jesus\nMargiela on my collar, remember they used to tease us\nI need Obama daughter, yeah, I really need her\nHundred racks froze in water, I bought that new freezer\nJump with the Mac in the back of the Jeep\nSweep them niggas clean (Roo!)\nHit em with a magazine\nMake your sneakers lean (Roo!)\nCadillac diamond the back of that old school\nWhen I'm with my team (Hah!)\nDon't wanna fuck with the team\nDon't do that, know what I mean? (Alright!)\nShe wanna fuck with a king, diamonds all bling\nHood Pope doing his thing\nShe wanna ride with the team, by any means\nTaking the bitch of your dreams\nNow that bitch my little queen, got her from Queens\nMight come in raw, with a G\nGucci and Prada on her feet, designer her sheets\nA-dollar sign-A-P\n\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nI just robbed a lil' nigga and took that nigga bitch\nWe can touch the water, bitch I walk\nWalk on top of water, slime\nWe can touch the water, bitch I walk\nWalk on top of water\nWe can touch the water, bitch I walk\nWalk on top of water, slime\nWe can touch the water, bitch I walk\nWalk on top of water, slime"}
{"text":"96 ContributorsPut That on My Set Lyrics\nPut that on my set, uhh, uhh\nPut that on my set\nI recollect, uhh, uhh\nTime to count some checks\nThey go collect, uhh\nThey owe some debt\nNothin' over, nothin' less\nAnd hoes on deck, and plus I flex\nI put that on my set\n\nUnderstand, I'm a man tryna make it in a world of death\nShe just wanna fuck and I just met her at the club\nAnd now we left\nI just wanna fuckin' love her, rough her\nShe was lovin' nothin' less\nI just love how we're bustin'\nNuttin' all up on her fucking chest\nGod I love that dress\nGod I love the way she dress, she fresh\nGod I love her breasts\nGod I love her thighs and eyes and uhh\nSwear to God I'm outta breath\nSwear to God if I get out of line, she checkin'\nOnly time we naked\nOnly time she complainin' and demand for private jets\nTwist my fingers, put that on my set, uh\nFuck the other side, no disrespect, uh\nTalking crazy, niggas comin' at my neck\nMan, that's word to Skepta, I'ma put that on my set\nYou might also like\nShow respect\nI'ma aim for the neck\nI'ma make some ghosts\nWhen it comes to the raps\nMan I must be possessed\nWhen you see me up close\nWhen you look into my eyes\nWhen you see how I flex\nJust me and my dogs\nAnd another handful of cats\nI ain't tryna fuck with the rest\nMan, I'm ready to die\nMy soul's in the sky\nSee the pain in my eyes\nI don't wanna cry\nPut my life on the line\nFor my blood all the time\nI see all the signs\nBut it's like they blind\nTryna kill me for mine\nNow this all behind\nThe police tryna find\nDNA on the nine\nMan, open the door\nReal niggas on tour\nMan, I'm ready for war\nTen toes on the floor\nFuck with me on the 3rd\nIt will be Halloween on the 4th\nYeah, all the way from the East to the North\nRocky billin' up that Backwood\nSpilling mad weed on the floor, icy\nNeed that on my set, ayy, ayy\nPut that on my set\nI said, I flex, ayy, ayy\nWhat's that on my neck?\nAyy, ayy, put that on my set\nI said, I flex, ayy, yy\nWhat's that on my neck?\nThey called baguettes, these bitches sweat\nThese niggas know, they all in check\nAnd hoes on deck\nAnd plus I flex, I put that on my set\n"}
{"text":"Uh, Lil Boat\nMonstas gon' tear it up\nAyy, ayy\n\nAin't never been to Bahamas, nah\nI done fucked multiple mamas\nI done count multiple commas\nWe brought in multiple llamas\nRapping all smooth, rapping all smooth\nWrap it up smooth like Osama\nIt's not what they say, it's 'bout what they do\nAnd trust me, they don't want the drama, nah\nAin't never been to Bahamas\nI done fucked multiple mamas\nI done count multiple commas\nWe brought in multiple llamas\nRapping all smooth, rapping all smooth\nWrap it up smooth like Osama\nIt's not what they say, it's 'bout what they do\nAnd trust me, they don't want the drama, nah\n\nI stay with that Uzi like Drama\nI stay with the Uzi for drama\nI stay in the cut with piranhas\nMy bitch bad and boujee, Kitana\nI hit multiple drops of Cassandra\nWe having sex in the sauna\nFuck it up, fuck it up, fuck it up\nNigga talk down, that's a uppercut\nYou might also like\nBow, shut up, hey\nGet you some money and run it up\nFucking your bitch, she ain't fun enough\nSmoking a blunt when I nut in her, face\nHuh, can't hit my weed, ayy\nCan't water my seed, hey\nCan't play in my garden, hey\nBitch, beg your pardon, hey\n2-2-3, Harden, hey\nOoh, that's James\nShe don't want you 'cause you lame\nI'm up, she'd rather fuck with us, yeah\nMake room, make room\nJiggy nigga comin' through, talk yo shit\n\nMake room, make room\nJiggy nigga comin' through, talk yo shit\nI ain't never been to Bahamas\nA nigga done been to Milan though\nMet with your favorite designer\nGucci show with Alessandro\nYour sis give me head on recliners\nYour wife wanna throw me vagina\nI fuck on your aunt, ya mama\nGot syrup like Aunt Jemima\nLike the Maple Leaf, take a peek\nGet to the bread like a bakery\nWait on me, wait for me\nSoon as we fuck, get away from me\nPaper plate or fine china, Benihana, McDonald's\nHit up Empanada Mamas, eat at delis or in diners\nWho's that peeking through the window?\nGot the chopper boutta blind us\nCouldn't pick me out of a lineup\nNiggas psyching like Ewonda\nSpaz fast, get to the bag\nLook at the digital dash\nLittle bitch frivolous, nigga just hit that shit\nGet to it, get in it, just trying to live a bit\nNew shades, Gosha\nGot me looking like a Beatle\nUp in London like a Beatle\nThis ain't Puma, this Needles\nAin't never been to Bahamas\nBut my chain's so lavish\nTMZ be clacking, while they're counting my karats\nLouis Vuitton, straight from Kim Jones\n\"Ballin\" like Jim Jones (Ballin'!)\nYou cannot come in my zone\nWoah, Dior boys in Paris\nChilling with Kris Van Assche\nWhite model bitch with ass\n\nLet a Groovy nigga in it, six cars, nigga winning\nBig crib, tennis court, half a million in the Porsche\nGot a chopper on the porch, backyard the Bahamas\nPalms trees and recliners, got a Rollie for my mama\nDime piece give me nana, got a .9, nigga, what\nThird strike in the bush, couple grand on the front\nFell in love in the gut, four mil' in a month\nYour career in a trunk, last album, nigga was\nWhole album full of duds, album cover for the buds\nPut the Rollie in the bust, money talking, nigga hush\nHit the plug, nigga walked off, split the mil, nigga all four\nFlippin' hoes, nigga what for? Batman in the Audo\nI never been to Bahamas\nA nigga done been to the projects\nI used to catch licks in pajamas\nNow I pull up in some Prada\nMargielaa man, cop a pair every weekend\nBad bitch, she says she's Puerto Rican\nIce cold, diamonds look at me freezing\nA hunnid bands, spend that shit up in Niemans\nBring them goons out\nPull up with them drugs and Smith & Wessons\nIt's a shoot out\nTaking trips, I can't even hardly go to school now\nI'm getting rich\n'Bout to go and cop a Bentley coupe now\nI'm spraying shit\nSuper soaker then dive in the pool now\n\nI ain't never been to Bahamas\nI ain't never broken a promise\nI got a Glock and a llama\nI'm on the block with Obama\nI'm on the coast with a goddess\nThere's no way to find us, no way to find us\nI'm on a boat to the tropics\nHolding deposits, bulging my pockets"}
{"text":"87 ContributorsFrat Rules Lyrics\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nThese hoes not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nThese hoes not fucking, not coming\nPull up and we drumming\nPull up and we drumming\nPull up and we stunting\nPull up and we stunting\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nThese hoes not fucking, not coming\n\nAll the hoes that you call are not coming\nShe know if she not fuckin, she truckin'\nAll the bitches I fuck are not common\nGuaranteed if I fuck her she cumming\nIf I'm in the room please don't come in\nI beat the pussy like it need production\nAnd all she want from me is reproduction\nGot her ass boutta leave her husband\nHeard he called up yelling, tweaking, fussing\nTalkin' 'bout \"It's gon' be repercussions!\"\nI remember last, last nigga, nigga tried to run up\nGot like three concussions\nDo you know what you in for?\nThey copy copy like ten four\nKeep the money 'cause I been poor\nAll your jewelry like tin foil\nPlease don't tell your friends where we shopping at\nI swear this shit gon' turn into an in-store (Straight up)\nFuck you need another man for\nTalking to her like a mentor?\nTalking to her like a nigga Yoda\nAnd she say, \"I love you\"\nI'm like \"Hold up, hold up, hold up\"\nHold up, hold up, hold up (Hold up)\n(Hit her, hit her with the back up) Back up (Colder) shoulder\nYou might also like\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nThese hoes not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nThese hoes not fucking, not coming\nPull up and we drumming\nPull up and we drumming\nPull up and we stunting\nPull up and we stunting\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nThese hoes not fucking, not coming\n\nNow every time we in this bitch, you actin' like you owe me favors\nActing like you with the shits but fronting on the homies later\nLook, I could tell you're under pressure, baby time to ease up\nYoung and living single, like your roommate Khadijah\nMy apologies, why I gotta be misogynistic every time we kick it?\nEvery time I visit, something's different\nAnd every time I leave, you know you miss it\nDon't be crying on my shoulder every time I'm coming over\nTalking 'bout a popcorn and soda, Netflix and chill\nWhen you home alone with no Macaulay Culkin\nSex game had her going crazy\nNow I got her ass calling all the time\nAnd I wish I never met her, Carl Thom'\nDriving down my street like it's the Autobahn\nGetting loud, setting off the car alarms\nHere put on my chain, baby you need to chill\nGive it some time, baby, let it rebuild\nQuit running your nose through the Beverly Hills\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nThese hoes not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nThese hoes not fucking, not coming\nPull up and we drumming\nPull up and we drumming\nPull up and we stunting\nPull up and we stunting\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nBitches not fucking, not coming\nThese hoes not fucking, not coming"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsCrazy Brazy Lyrics\nWoah, woah, yo\nWoah, woah, woah\n\nI got a lot on my head\nGucci rag tied on my head\nPut a red dot on your head\nI put that guap on your head\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nI got a lot on my mind\nI put that guap on my mind\nI got a lot on my mind\nI put that nine to your mind\nDon't talk to me brazy\nDon't talk to me brazy\nDon't talk to me brazy\nDon't talk to me brazy\n\nI don't want no conversation\nI don't need explanation\nShoot with no hesitation\nThey do it for a reputation\nThey don't play me on the station\nPress 'em like detonation\nMore Margiela than a Mason\nMan I'm Rocky like a caveman\nRe-rock I'm a rockstar\nTry to cuff me like a cop car\nTry to play me like a pop star?\nThat's how you get not far\nAll my Cuz niggas crazy\nAll my Blood niggas brazy\nMight just drop in on a Wednesday\nMan the shit is soundin' wavy\nDon't talk back, just give me face\nI got nines on my waist\nHide them nines in the place, I don't care\nI'm with Flacko, you on flocka\nYou got guns, but won't pop 'em\nI send niggas to the doctor, I don't care\nXanman, tan money bag, drag, slash bag man\nBaghdad land\nTalk back, get back slapped with a back hand\nBlack man, black hand side\nAnti-everything since Yams died\nAnd I stand by NY\nNo who, what, where, why, when\nYou might also like\nI got a lot on my head\nGucci rag tied on my head\nPut a red dot on your head\nI put that guap on your head\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nI got a lot on my mind\nI put that guap on my mind\nI got a lot on my mind\nI put that nine to your mind\nDon't talk to me brazy\nDon't talk to me brazy\nDon't talk to me brazy\nDon't talk to me brazy\n\nHundred thousand dollar nightmare\nIf I wanna take a flight there\nMan fuck it spend a life here\nYoung thuggin in some Nike Airs\nBicken Back Being Bool, baby\nLayin' back by the pool, baby\nBumpin' that shit too wavy\nCounting stacks shit too brazy\nWalk around with a bag on me\nWalk around with a flag on me\nBickin back I got mad hoes\nJoey Fatts might blast for me\nTote the Tecs I got cash homie\nTake it back, I got crack on me\nThis and that, got that on me\nWhere you from?\nWhere you at homie?\nI got a lot on my head\nGucci rag tied on my head\nPut a red dot on your head\nI put that guap on your head\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nDon't be talking to me crazy\nI got a lot on my mind\nI put that guap on my mind\nI got a lot on my mind\nI put that nine to your mind\nDon't talk to me brazy\nDon't talk to me brazy\nDon't talk to me brazy\nDon't talk to me brazy"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsTrillmatic Lyrics\nYo\nYo-yo, yo\nAhem\nNineties-era Nasty\nYeah\nYo\nTy Beats!\n\nI need some time alone, cold, my rhymes will turn your mind to stone\nThat's the work of Satan, niggas be hatin', but I'm a pot of gold\nThis ain't just me rappin', it's real and somethin' you gots to know\nCatch a mark nigga hatin', get him a casket, that bastard's 'bout to go\nWhoa, Nasty baby, I'm crazy, the nineties raised me\nI'm just as smart, probably smarter than half the cats who play me\nBrazy, drivin' Miss Daisy, hand on my strap\nIn my zone, mind on my money like, \"Where that shit at?\"\nI'm all alone, that's my only hope\nAnd be damned if I'ma chase that with some phony homes\u2014on the real\nIt be the ones that say, \"We got this\"\u2014\nThat \"You ain't alone as long as I'm here\"\u2014\nTo pull out that Glock 9 and cocked it\nHe mad you got rich, but on the low, you should've watched him\nCats connivin', head first into the livest object\nThat was your man; now, you 'bout to die quick over some fly shit\nYou feel reminded of your fast-life ventures and winters\nBlinded 'til the flashlight enters\nYou might also like\nYo, I got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nI bought the funky-funky Nikes, got the hat to match\nI bought the funky-funky Nikes, got the hat to match\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nAnd when I kill 'em with the flow, ain't no comin' back\nAnd when I kill 'em with the flow, ain't no comin' back, back, back\nI got a poor man's panache, I be stretchin' the cash\nI'm a little passive-aggressive, they go get stretchers when I'm mad\nBorderline manic-depressive, rappers stressin' me bad\nGot too many less-than-impressive rappers left in my path\nBetter yet, we gon' leave 'em left in the past\nSomeone slides\u2014this time, I ride, you get left in the back\nWho am I? I'm a titan, so be expectin' a clash\nStart to wavin' arms at you, you'd think I'm catchin' a cab\nNo questions, live the answers 'cause if you're lookin' to ask (Uh-huh)\nLook at Meth, breakin' bad like he cookin' meth in the lab\nStill a lethal weapon, but try and bless him with math\nRappers never learn their lesson, so I ain't lettin' 'em pass\nI ain't lettin' 'em brag (Nah), I ain't lettin' 'em swag (Nah)\nFuck swag, just bein' blunt, while I'm pluckin' my ash\nY'all ain't up in my class in the buildin'\u2014 It's A$AP Meth\nQuick to kill 'em\u2014that's an ASAP death\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nI bought the funky-funky Nikes, got the hat to match\nI bought the funky-funky Nikes, got the hat to match\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nAnd when I kill 'em with the flow, ain't no comin' back\nAnd when I kill 'em with the flow, ain't no comin' back, back, back\n\nStraight out the back, dog, I'm Shaq-strong, I'm breakin' backboards\nDraped in Tommy, my bitch beside me, young god body\nI play the back of clubs, clique of foul youngins that's rowdy\nFools get rowdy, ain't nothin' dumb, my guns from Saudi\nHigh off the Maui, don't trip your weed, rollin' the finest\nYou know the fronto, Sucio Guapo, I'm head honcho\nI sport the poncho, connects with Sandro, the illest y'all know\nKillin' 'em pronto, my funky fresh is filthy, designer\nBut check my rhymes, though, my verse is like atomic bombs, yo\nHaters like side hoes, I peel off in the illest Tahoes\nWatch out for potholes, H leanin', that's why he drive slow\nNast' Diablo, the nineties-era shit in effect\nClowns be watchin', best protect your necks (Ty Beats)\n\nTold ya all niggas what? huh?\nTold these mothafuckers, nigga!\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nI bought the funky-funky Nikes, got the hat to match\nI bought the funky-funky Nikes, got the hat to match\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nI got a funky-funky style with a funky swag\nAnd when I kill 'em with the flow, ain't no comin' back\nAnd when I kill 'em with the flow, ain't no comin' back, back, back\n\nBack\nBack\n"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsGet the Bag Lyrics\nUh, yeah, yeah (It's a new day)\nUh, uh, yeah, yeah (It's a new day)\nYeah, yeah, uh, uh (It's a new day)\nUh, uh, uh (It's a new day)\n\nGucci, that Prada, that Fendi\nIce Cube, all about the Benjis\nSpend ten bands in Fendi\nA$AP, my niggas with me\nNiggas be talking that bullshit\nYour main bitch said I look gorgeous\nWhat I spent on my chain, that's your mortgage (Cash out)\nBrand new Porsche came with some horses (It's a new day)\nSipping that purple like Prince\n.40 my tool, that's my wrench\nBallin' like J-Kidd, assist\nShootin that three like a swish\n\nAyy, moving in silence, I need me some guidance\nI'm wildin', there's money and violence\nCome out the projects, I want it, I got it\nMargiela just running through college (It's a new day)\nFresh out the Porsche, tech in my shorts\nBest from the west to the north\nCatching some rec with my thots, ayy\nGetting a check for my thoughts, ayy\nDripping in jelly, I trap off a celly\nI look like I'm rich in the '80s\nDroop with the grippy, I cruise through the bity (Uhhhh!)\nI'm buggin' out crazy, no brazy\nYou might also like\nSki mask on me so them niggas can't trace me\nCar is so fast, when I skrrt, they can't chase me\nMargiela, Marino, now she wanna date me\nShe see the money, now she tryna play me\nHop out the Rari, go vroom\nI never lack, I stay with goons, thugs\nAnd you know Gucci my shoes\nBreaking the rules, stay on the news\nAnd you know my shot go swish\nShoot from a three-point, boy I won\u2019t miss, aye\nSmooky just caught a new lick\nDiamonds don't drip, don\u2019t front, you get hit (It's a new day)\n\nFunny vibes, I can sense\nSomething different in the air, it's like a weight being lifted\nTaste the hatred, oh I get it\nReally trippin' cause you broke and you in your feelings\nLet her go, she in her feelings\nNiggas can't tell you shit, man, don't know the difference\nWhen you're in your twenties making parents livid\nCause you making millions\nMake 'em wanna live it then you make a living\nOver what you spending, making poor decisions\nMusic for the children, hope they make it major\nEven independent, free them out the penni' (It's a new day)\nKeep him out the prison, writing freedom with the pen and pencil\nMTV about a Interstitial\nFuck with me because it's beneficial (It's a new day)\nUnsuspected like an incidental\nChasing that bag (It's a new day)\n2017, 2018\nThey bragging about hoes I had (It's a new day)\nCome on through stunting too\nLooking like a nigga dad (It's a new day)\nForeign bitches, pull up\nType of bitch a nigga wish he had (It's a new day)\nLooking in the mirror, vision getting clearer (Uhhhhh)\nI see why you mad\nChickens coming in, they gotta go\nShe ain't fucking then she gotta go (New day)\nWanna see me drown, I gotta float\nBest believe I get it by the boat (New day)\nThirsty bitch, she wanna sit up in it\nHad your bitch and she be lickin' in it\nCar so big she wanna get up in it\nTell the bitch to chill but she still catching feelings (It's a new day)\n\nUh, .4-5 that chopper\nIt ready to spit on you niggas, pew, uh, yeah (It's a new day)\nAll of my bitches, they fucking\nThey acting siddity, what, what (It's a new day)\nYea, uh, stacking the guap, feel like Diddy, ooh\nAll of my bitches get milli', ooh\nPopping that molly prescription, ooh\nAll of my niggas, they dishing, ooh\nI just go hard in the kitchen, ooh\nBitches they fuckin', they lickin', huh\nCarti, I\u2019m getting that, uh, blaow\nTold her go mind her own business\n'Fore I die, I'ma make a billi'\nStack a couple milli', 'Rari and a Bentley\nHouse upon the hilly, diamonds getting chilly\nBunch of indie niggas with me repping Philly (It's a new day)\nOh Lord, it\u2019s the Hood Pope\nShouldn\u2019t walk cause I could float (Getting that bag)\nModel bitch, get a good throat (Uhhhhh)\nSaid she in love with the hood folks, god damn\nThey be chasing that bag, they be chasing that bag!\n\nAye, Nasty baby, 2017\nBig ol' diamonds in my pinky ring (New day)\nPrada on me, bitch I do my thing (New day)\nYeah, aye, I ain\u2019t gotta talk to you niggas lame\nAye, disappear on 'em like David Blaine\nCombat boots on me like Major Payne\nThese niggas is funny like Damon Wayans (It's a new day)\nBoy you so broke, man that shit a shame (It's a new day)\n\n'Member times I was broke\nNow I\u2019m getting that bag (It's a new day)\n'Member times I was broke\nNow I\u2019m getting that bag (It's a new day)\n'Member times I was broke\nNow I\u2019m getting that bag (It's a new day)\nSee I 'member times I was broke\nNow a nigga chasin' that bag (Uhhhhh, they be chasing that bag)\nBut it's a new day"}
{"text":"88 ContributorsBlowin\u2019 Minds (Skateboard) Lyrics\nMan, always bout some petty shit\nThat shit blowin' off\nI'ma come clean\n\nAll new watch, that bitch blow minds (Beep)\nWhen we show up, you know it's showtime (What?)\nI don't skateboard, but I'm on my grind (Beep)\nHundred thousand, all hundreds, it'll blow a bitch mind\n\nWhen I was in the jungle we was blowin' 9s (Straight up)\nJust hit a nigga bitch for the second time (Straight up)\nAnd you know I gotta cross the finish line (Woah, woah, woah)\nYou can't stand me bitch? Sit it down (Yeah)\n\nWhen we in the field, it's a touchdown (Gang)\nAnd you know your bitch is a bustdown (Gang)\nShe gon' turn around and get turnt out (Gang)\nHopped up in a foreign car, then I burnt out (Yeah)\n\nI don't waste time on the FaceTime (Nah)\nR.I.P the pussy, leave it face down (Yeah)\nTwo best friends at the same time (Woo, woo)\nTwo best friends at the same time (Woo, woo)\nFlava Flav clock by my waist line (Tik, tok)\nI find it funny how she blow time (Tik, tok)\nForward lil' mama cause she hold it down (Shh, quiet)\nNickname her Karma 'cause she go around (That's right)\nWhen she come around, better not fuck around (Mhmm)\nWrite a couple bars, I bet I blow your mind\nDeadly with the pins, I don't bowl around (Woo)\nMercedes Benz, I roll around (Woo)\nLike 80 bands, when I walk around (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nAll new watch, that bitch blow minds (Beep)\nWhen we show up, you know it's showtime (What?)\nI don't skateboard, but I'm on my grind (Beep)\nHundred thousand, all hundreds, it'll blow a bitch mind\n\nWhen I was in the jungle we was blowin' 9s (Straight up)\nJust hit a nigga bitch for the second time (Straight up)\nAnd you know I gotta cross the finish line (What?)\nYou can't stand me bitch? Sit it down\n\nIn the Hellcat, yeah, burning out (Ooh, ooh)\nLet the window down, yeah, air it out (Ooh, what?)\nLay a nigga down, ooh, lay him down (Ooh, what?)\nI'ma hit that bitch, with a hundred rounds (Ooh, ooh)\nAll my bitches bad, and they poking out (Ooh, bad)\nPull up with them knots, yeah, I'm ashin' out (Ooh, cash)\nAston Martin coupe, yeah, cashing out (Ooh, ooh)\nAll black Rollie, yeah, bust down (Ooh, what?)\n\nAll new watch, that bitch blow minds (Beep)\nWhen we show up, you know it's showtime (What?)\nI don't skateboard, but I'm on my grind (Beep)\nHundred thousands, all hundreds, it'll blow a bitch mind\nWhat\u2019s the word?\nI just saw your hoe up on the strip and she look thirsty\nGave that hoe my number, told her call me up for certain (Call me up)\nYeah, I know what\u2019s it\u2019s worth\nGive that pussy up, and if it\u2019s wet, I\u2019ll buy a purse (What?)\n(I don\u2019t be trickin') Ridin' in my Murc'\nSeat way back, bumpin' new Lil Uzi Vert, ayy\nDiamonds dance like Carlton\nYou can see them through my shirt, ayy\nFlexin\u2019 on these niggas, know they see me and it hurt\n(Flex, flex, flex, flex, flex)\nFlexin\u2019 on these niggas, I be with them geeks\nBut make one phone call, you get hit up\n(Bow, bow, bow, bow, blatt!)\n\nAll new watch, that bitch blow minds (Beep)\nWhen we show up, you know it's showtime (What?)\nI don't skateboard, but I'm on my grind (Beep)\nHundred thousands, all hundreds, it'll blow a bitch mind\n\nWhen I was in the jungle we was blowin' 9s (Straight up)\nJust hit a nigga bitch for the second time (Straight up)\nAnd you know I gotta cross the finish line (What?)\nYou can't stand me bitch? Sit it down"}
{"text":"59 ContributorsMoney Man Lyrics\nOh we finna fuck up a check today\nNigga, fuck that!\nOh we finna get paid today\nI'm about my cash today (rrah!)\nI'm 'bout my dough today, I'm 'bout my hoes today\nMoney on my mind every fucking day (Harlem)\nHoneys on my mind every fucking day\nGet that money young nigga!\nGet that cash young nigga! Take that cash young nigga!\nFlacko!\n\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride\nAll that I wanted man, wanted some money man\nLook at my wallet man, countin' up hunnids\nCall me the money man, she do the money dance\nI keep the money man, keep it one hunnid, yeah\n\nCash rules everything around me, nigga ask about me\nI swear my shooters be my juniors, call me Robert Downey\nHe held it down, he held his own, now holding down the county\nIt just so happen now, she wet and now I'm all outta Bounty\nI'm the quicker picker-upper, still don't give no fucks bruh\nQuick to pick her up, I be that pretty mothafucker\nFor fuckin' up my cash on Ubers, time to switch the truck up\nTip the driver, turn the Future up, fuck up some commas\nHomicide, pussy good, eat it good, treat it good\nBeat it good, peck a wood, wish you could\nLove or ride, ride or die, ride it back forth, side to side\nMake it shake, surfboard, make a nigga go dumb for it\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride, love the bitch 'till I die\nGenuine, Bonnie\/Clyde,, we gon' die, homicide\nSuicide, two of us, you and I, crucified\nTruths and lies, you despise, I'm the best, you decide\nYou might also like\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride\nI'ma ride, choose a side, suicide\nYou and I, crucified\nYou despise\nI'm the best, you decide\n\nPulled up on lil' shawty, hello, howdy, Audi\nI just hopped up out my Rover, shine my Rollie, uhh\nI just hit my jeweler threw some diamonds on it\nTold that hoe don't come I ain't got no times for phonies, uhh\nI've been gettin' money, why you niggas fronting?\nUhh, Flacko told me, \"Fuck 'em,\" I'm like, \"Nah, let's buck 'em\"\nI ain't got no time, these niggas want discussion\nTold her drop that ass, I ain't tryna fuck you\nUhh, I just bought a stripper pole, I put it in my bedroom\nGot your hoe plus several more sliding down the metal\nShe like, \"Nasty baby demon,\" yeah, that boy a rebel\n\nAll that I wanted man, wanted some money man\nLook at my wallet man, countin' the hunnids\nCall me the money man, she do the money dance\nI keep the money man, keep it one hunnid\nLook at my product man, I'm made of money man\nCheck out my closet man, callin' it contraband\nFuck with the rubber bands, I count a hunnid bands\nShe see the money man, she do the money dance\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride, I'ma ride\nI'ma ride, choose a side, suicide\nYou and I, crucified\nYou despise\nI'm the best, you decide"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsBachelor Lyrics\nDun Deal on the tra-a-a-a-ack\n\nBeautiful (Beauty!)\nOne or two, all of you (Ayy!)\nHow are you, pop a bean (Hey! Bean!)\nChopped and screwed\nDouble cup, fill me up (Mud! Drank!)\nI'm riding through, Hollywood (Skrrt)\nSmoking good, I'm on the move (Gang!)\nBeautiful (Hey!)\nOne or two, all of you (Hey!)\nHow are you, pop a bean (How are you? Bean!)\nChopped and screwed\nDouble cup, fill me up (Mud! Drank!)\nI'm riding through, Hollywood (Skrrt)\nSmoking good, I'm on the move (Hey!)\n\nWe live our life like some bachelors\nDiamonds on me like a bachelor (Shine)\nPhantom on me like a bachelor\nBitches on me like a bachelor\nWe live our life like a bachelor (Ayy)\nDiamonds on me like a bachelor\nPhantom on me like a bachelor (Yeah)\nBitches on me like a bachelor\nYou might also like\nThese niggas mad at Lil Boat\nNautica sign on my clothes\nI keep that work for the low\nI give a fuck 'bout a hoe, damn\n22 shots to his brain if he stain on my name\nNot a joke, not a game\nFuck around and iced up my neck\nDo what I need for respect\n\nHop in a whip and cut school\nI met that lil' bitch straight after school\nYou cannot play me, I never been fooled\nYou cannot play me, I never been fooled\nShawty got friends and I'm pulling up\nI'm getting head like a uppercut\nThey don't want war they not tough enough\nShawty just told me I'm glowing up\nI need that shit it not out yet\nI wanna foreign my outfit\nThumbing and dabbing I run it up\nYoung niggas never been young enough\nI got yo bitch in my spot again\nI'm in Shibuya just stacking Yen\nSmoking on gas, don't fuck with mid\nDon't play me, lil' bitch, I'm not a kid\nTake a good look at where a nigga live\nLook at the moves that a nigga did\nLook at the faces, a nigga stare\nFlick of the wrist we like looky here\nRegular bitches play hard to get\nIt's funny she come but we couldn't pair\nOh no, he didn't done took it there\nI done some things that you wouldn't dare\nI need the Dior and Prada suits\nI need that Raf and that Gucci too\nI need JW Anderson\nI should pop Pamela Anderson\nCalling her pussy an ambulance\nLet me record like the cameraman\nI'ma zoom in with my camera lens\nI'm going in like the Taliban\n\nBeautiful (Beauty!)\nOne or two, all of you (Ayy!)\nHow are you, pop a bean (Hey! Bean!)\nChopped and screwed\nDouble cup, fill me up (Mud! Drank!)\nI'm riding through, Hollywood (Skrrt)\nSmoking good, I'm on the move (Gang!)\nBeautiful (Hey!)\nOne or two, all of you (Hey!)\nHow are you, pop a bean (How are you? Bean!)\nChopped and screwed\nDouble cup, fill me up (Mud! Drank!)\nI'm riding through, Hollywood (Skrrt)\nSmoking good, I'm on the move (Hey!)"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsLondon Town Lyrics\nMotivation foreign, motivation foreign\nDior on my feet, everyday foreign\nMotivation foreign, motivation foreign\nCar from Germany, everything foreign\n\nEverything foreign, vintage Ralph Lauren\nFeel like Jeff Gordon, Switzerland touring\nYou H&M sporting, you niggas is boring (goddamn)\nGot a white bitch on my dick, yeah she snorting\nDrive the whip fast till I crash it, I'm a bastard\nLil Boosie, I'm a savage, fuck her then I pass it\nFlacko smashed it, Bari smashed it\n(Harlem and London, same ting)\n(Harlem and London, same ting)\n\nGot this bitch all in my face, yeah\nFuck her then cum on her face now\nSpend a whole check on my waist, yeah\nBag it up, it's on the way, yeah\nI do what I want and they hate, uh\nI do what I want and they hate, yeah\nTrust a soul that's okay yeah\nKeep a pole we okay, yeah\nYou might also like\nMotivation foreign, motivation foreign\nDior on my feet, everyday foreign\nMotivation foreign, motivation foreign\nCar from Germany, everything foreign\n\nL-O-R-D F-L-A-C-K-O\nAye yo' I heard you a featherweight\nVroom vroom, zoom zoom\nWinnipeg, paper thick, the paper chase\nStoned all in London town\nSmile for the camera lenses, I ain't shy\nI'ma fly by, I'm a fly guy\nSell that ya-ya, yeah yeah yeah\nOn the corner everyday when you see him posted\nToasted with the soldiers\nRobbers with me, choppers on us\nLord Pretty Flacko Jodye\nHoly matrimony, married to the guacamole\nAvocado seeds up on my broccoli\nDrop my socks pony, got my thot in Chlo\u00e9\nAll of my hoes are foreign man\nKnow how I love them bitches though\nAll of my hoes are foreign man\nAll of my hoes be switching hoes\nMotivation foreign (Harlem and London, same ting)\nMotivation foreign (Harlem and London, same ting)\nDior on my feet (Harlem and London, same ting)\nEveryday foreign (Harlem and London, same ting)\nMotivation foreign (Harlem and London, same ting)\nMotivation foreign (Harlem and London, same ting)\nCar from Germany (Harlem and London, same ting)\nEverything foreign (Harlem and London, same ting)\n\nI'm in the ends now\nI'm in the ends now\nIn the Rolls with my mens now\nIn the Rolls with my mens now"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsWhat Happens Lyrics\nYeah!\nAll right! Yeah!\n\nWhat happens when you get a real nigga rockin' Hilfiger\nWith some trill niggas? With some grills, nigga? Yeah (Yeah!)\nWhat happens when you see a fake nigga rockin' Bapes, nigga?\nGet up out my face, give me space, nigga (Right!)\n\nWhat happens when you fucked a nigga bitch?\nAlready shittin' on 'em now a nigga pissed\nHit the dab just to show the wrist\nIt's the young Bada$$ in this bitch (Yeah!)\n\nWhat happens when you took a nigga bitch?\nShe go off, give a nigga kiss\nKnowin' she sucked on a nigga dick\nAnd right now, sending naked pics (Ooh-ooh! Errrr!)\n\nWhat happens when you fucked a nigga bitch?\nWhen she on your dick, she reminisce\nAbout how she fucked the whole nigga clique\nI swear that bitch stay in the mix\nYou might also like\nI swear to God, the nigga RZA sick\nWhat happen when you got a bigger miss?\nThat Mr. Dick is a hit or miss\nDon't kiss my hip, I'm ticklish (Ugh!)\n\nA$AP and Pro-E (Woo!)\nHit it with the flow, you know it's OD\nFlacko Jodye, Ferg and Joey\nYour bitch gon' ride it like a pony (Yeah!)\n\nYeah, yeah, yeah, ride it like it's stolen\nGet lost in the night, I got the potion\nShe just wanna play, I got the tokens\nKeep it short and sweet, don't sugarcoat it (That's right!)\n\nWhat happen when a nigga tryna flex?\nComing at you all incorrect?\nI ain\u2019t with that talk shit\nOr the bullshit, I\u2019m on some boss shit (Yeah!)\n\nWhat happen when I gotta get the check?\nI dip to flex and step on your ribs and neck\nIt\u2019s Nyck, bitch, crisp like Winterfresh\nIt's Beast Coast, one clan on different sets\nWhat happen when you gotta pipe it up? (Yah)\nPull up, pop the trunk (Ayy)\nGlock 40, nigga's dome (What?)\nMan down, my nigga's up (Yuh)\n\nWhat happen when you going 730? (Yeah)\nHands clean, weapon dirty\nBullets fly like Testaverde\nYoung Lords, man, we never worry\n\nWhat happens when you get a real nigga rockin' Hilfiger?\nWith some trill niggas? With some grills, nigga? Yeah (Yeah!)\nWhat happens when you see a fake nigga rockin' Bapes, nigga?\nGet up out my face, give me space, nigga (Right!)\n\nWhat happen when you sex raw dawg?\nWhen it's all good, goes all wrong\nNine months, no phone call\n\"New baby born and it's all yours\"\n\nUhh, baby ma? She gon' have to prove it\nI had a rubber, I know I used it\nWhat happen when it goes all wrong? (Hey!)\nIt all falls down, oh Lord (Oh Lord!)\nWhat happened next? I'm on the Maury show\nShoe gang, Maury flow\n\"2-12, you not the father\"\nSame go for my niggas though (Yeah!)\n\nThat Plan B save a nigga though\nThat's what happen when you nutted in a ho (Ugh!)\nWasn't even thinking, I was in it raw\nI was off the Henny, I was off the Mo'\n\nWhat happen when you a fly nigga? (Yah)\nNew chains, wanna rob a nigga (Yah)\nI can't really split pie with niggas (Yah)\nI ain't really that type of nigga\n\nWhat you do when you don't like a nigga?\nMan, I'm the type to snipe a nigga\nI don't get how you fight with niggas\nWe ain't acting all tight with niggas\nI swear to God, it's \"night night\" to niggas\nWould you ride without a license, nigga?\nWould you live with all your vices, nigga?\nWould you die with the ISIS, nigga?\n\nAnd if it came to it, would you slice a nigga?\nFuck that, shit happens when you fight these niggas\nChief a whole ounce, fucking spiteful niggas (Ugh!)\nLeft me a lil' roach, got me tight, my nigga\n\nThis what happens when your diamonds glistenin'\nChrome thing, shiny pistol\nI lick it, twist it then I hit the swisher\nKick her out, it's dismissal\n\nThis what happens when you trippy, nigga\nIntrovert, don't fuck with niggas\nTrippy flow, got kush to blow\nAnd she want the dick, she better hit the floor\n\nWhat happens when you get a real nigga rockin' Hilfiger\nWith some trill niggas? With some grills, nigga? Yeah\nWhat happens when you see a fake nigga rockin' Bapes, nigga?\nGet up out my face, give me space, nigga\n\nAcid tabs, 100 micrograms\nSleep is weak, I don't like the Xan\n(What happened to the shrooms?) Those got consumed\n(Bet you high as fuck) Dawg, I'm on the moon\n\nZombies with me, we from the tombs\nOne big room, full of mad goons\nHella broads at the bar\nYou actin' hard, get dealt with the squad\n\nThis what happen when you unified\nFrom the land to the struggle, do or die\nBrooklyn ballers (Harlem fly)\nAlways gotta hustle, fuck a 9 to 5\n\nWhat happens when you get a real nigga rockin' Hilfiger\nWith some trill niggas? With some grills, nigga? Yeah\nWhat happens when you see a fake nigga rockin' Bapes, nigga?\nGet up out my face, give me space, nigga"}
{"text":"74 ContributorsWrong Lyrics\nLa Musica de Harry Fraud\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong\n\nFather, please forgive us\nCouldn't tell the difference and it's on me (Woo!)\nI don't need to seek attention\nJust to keep these womens on me (Woo!)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong (Yeah!)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong (Woo!)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong (Ayy!)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong\n\nFuckin' on that bitch and I know it's wrong\nWifey walked in and she found that thong\nShe talk to my dick like an intercom\nThen smoke that dick up just like it's a bong\nI ain't gon' lie, this the realest song\nHit Ben Baller, get my glisten on\nTrap Lord been gettin' his ceiling on\nBut I know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong\nI know that it's wrong so the boy pray\nI speak to the Lord, don't ignore me\nWhite model bitch doin' cocaine\nLayin' her out in the hallway\nDouble strappin' on a ratchet bitch\nSo she don't take me to Maury\nMan I done lost me a classy bitch\nFergie is learning the hard way\nYou might also like\nFather please forgive us\nCouldn't tell the difference and it's on me (Woo!)\nI don't need to seek attention\nJust to keep these womens on me (Woo!)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong (Yeah)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong (Woo!)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong\n(Uh) feel like I'm stuck in a maze (Yeah)\nMy bitches lookin' amazed (Uh)\nNow she is goin' so crazy (Alright)\nShe caught me cheatin' today\nEyelashes all on my bed (Yeah)\nTexts I didn't erase (Uh)\nNow she comin' at my head (Yeah)\nThought I'd never see the day (Uh)\nShouldn't have never been with them other broads (Yeah)\nAnd now I left my girl with another scar (Alright)\nSometimes I take advantage just 'cause I'm a star (That's right)\nI know it's wrong so I'm on my knees prayin' to God (Uh)\n\nFather, please forgive us\nCouldn't tell the difference and it's on me (Woo!)\nI don't need to seek attention\nJust to keep these womens on me (Woo!)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong (Yeah!)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong (Woo!)\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong\nI know it's wro-o-o-o-o-o-ong (Woo!)\nWoo!\nYeah\nWoo!\nUh\nYeah!\nWoo!\nWoo!\nUh"}
{"text":"72 ContributorsYoung Nigga Living Lyrics\n\nYoung wild nigga, I'm high as hell\nBreak a whole pound down, smell the smell\nWord around town, they ringing bells\nAll my niggas cracking, lock the shells\nSweat pants on with the YSL\nMight go Dipset Pelle Pelle\nAll white on, the light snow\nIn the summertime my fly glow\nSome hate me, some love me though\nBitches on the guest list at my shows\nIn the mosh-pit throwing elbows\nDaydream of getting that Phantom Rolls\nPour up, slow down, catch the flow\nBum niggas want to steal my clothes\nThirsty niggas want to fuck my hoes\nRun up on me meet the 44\nMobbing ten deep in the Tahoe\nDrug money, rap money, more dough\nPops taught me 'bout the wrist game\nRap don't work, flip cocaine\nDo it for the money, do it for the fame\nDon't love the hoes, let my bros run trains\nPuffing on gas, lighting up the flame\nCity on my back like a campaign\nCross-over, slammed, that LeBron James\nPeanut butter inside, wood grain\nPull up on your block like a goblin\nAll you see is guns, get to sparking\nThen the police get to chalking\nDope in the car, no walk in\nOutbid a nigga, no bargain, nigga\nYou might also like\nYoung nigga living\nYoung nigga living, fucking these bitches\nNiggas ain't made for the stone cold\nNiggas pull K's for the coco\nI'ma just blaze with the .44, stand back\nBlow haze in my low low, catch a fade then I go go\nAct right, then I fade to the slow-mo\nThat's right got a pay for the po-po\nOn the West got the drank for the low low\nBounce in my low low, vision like a GoPro\nDown Melrose, got about twelve hoes\nIn the Valley, I got about twelve more\nTwo twelve in the pell, give em' hell\nLike you came from the twelfth floor\nGot the bell, get the bands like a billfold\nWhere they at? Man I'm strapped like Velcro\nWhere I'm at I'ma bad in the hell hole\nWhere it's at matter fact who the hell knows\nIt's a fact that I rap and I move O's\nThen the Act got me slapped, man I'm too slow\nThen I'm trapped in a trap turn the two door\nPorsche 9-1-1, shit too cold\nMan I'm one then I'm done then it's new coach\nMan 9-1-1, we don't do those\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, fuckin' these bitches\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, handle my business\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, gettin' this chicken\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, four that I'm sipping\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, young nigga living\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, fuckin' these bitches\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, handle my business\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, gettin' this chicken\n\nLife's so hard\nR.I.P. Grandma\nThese cops play different\nEvery corner got a camera\nI swear the game got a cancer\nThese lil' niggas bust a hammer\nWith bitch made tendencies\nMake 'em wanna give they man up\nAin't about gang bangers or color bandannas\nOr holding your fist up and repping The Panthers\nSee Willie still Lynching they want us to hang us\nGame is still pimping adapted the changes\nI'll take your 360, work off your anus\nShit on these niggas, like you constipated\nSee that's what I did and momma I made it\nBut I'm gone out my mind and my point is vacated\nI can't take this world, ain't got the patience\nYears of oppression, I'm feeling violated\nAnd that's why my niggas be highly sedated\nAddicted to money and driving new Ranges\nGone off the lean, want to stay faded\nThey can't even drink 'cause their life is so jaded\nI want to be clean but the water is so tainted\nAin't it?\n\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, fuckin' these bitches\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, handle my business\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, gettin' this chicken\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, four that I'm sipping\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, young nigga living\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, fuckin' these bitches\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, handle my business\nYoung nigga living, young nigga living, gettin' this chicken"}
{"text":"66 ContributorsFull Metal Jacket Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\nUh\n\nA$AP! Guess who just came up?\nFrom the land of milk and honey, where the thing bust\nSpray the Mac-11 'til a nigga sprang up\nAnd it's snakes in the grass but the bitch ain't cut\nThat lean and that Tussin be up in my cup\nSlanging that drugs, there's no stretching no cut\nFour gold chains, same color was the slugs\nAnd a chain with a plate saying, \"Don't give a fuck\"\n\nI be on that block, be on that stoop\nTryna get cash for the coop\nGet cash for the coop, got Da$h in the loop\nMight spaz on your troop, cause that's what I do\nMore fashionable with a bad bitch or two\nAll of my tools, all of my jewels\nMan, I'm awfully cool, all of these dudes\nWatching all of our moves, I'm offing these fools\n\nHenny in my cup, half a blunt in my jaws\nSaid fuck court, now I'm running from the law\nPaid the attorney, I give a fuck about the charge\nThink the ho's Matlock, way to get a nigga off\nFeeling like Kurt Cobain, black bitch love cocaine\nLearn my tricks from the dope game\nYoung and high die tryna get rich\nR. Kelly really think that I can fly in this bitch?\nYou might also like\nBlow in her nose got crack on the stove\nHouse full of girls, who know my flow\nReal-ass nigga keep the burner in my draws\nPussy-ass niggas get the full clip y'all\nRich-ass nigga house got eight dogs\nTwo times four broads, that's eight broads\nFly young nigga with the Black Scale on\nShe loving my music, she singing my songs\n\nBang 'em, get Halle Berry when I spray 'em\nDump 'em in the garbage, I would \"Losing Issiah\" 'em\nAh, damn, Young Fergie turn into a satan\nGot you laying dead, mothafucka, better saie your prayers\nAK 'em, brrrr in that dirt you be laying\nMama gon' be crying, won't you hear that preacher singing\nHe be singing like, \"Welcome to the crossroads\"\nBang 'em, pull the trigger, middle finger when you hear them shots spraying\n\nJust bought new shoes, that's Prada\nNew crib out in Cali smoking maui\nWith my niggas, like I oughta, A$AP 'member that\nNow my niggas 'bout to blow, like propane\nYeah, I talk about Raf like I talk about rap\nBut it's only cause I'm flossing, take it up another notch\nSee they like our sound, it's so amazing\nThey say it costs to be the boss\nWe done earned our spot, y'all niggas tryna take it\nJock a little bit of steez from the set\nBut it's cool, probably thought I wouldn't say shit\nIt's a recession in the hood, I ain't going back home\nEvery dollar, I'mma make it\nWon't stop 'til we ball like the Lakers, bitch"}
{"text":"58 ContributorsPlease Shut Up Lyrics\nDamn it, Franchise, you did it again\nYeah, yeah, yo\nYa know, new wave\nNew wave, nigga about to cap 'em\nYeah, ayy, uh\n\nPlease shut up, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, ooh, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, ooh, please shut up, ayy\n\nYeen ain't sayin' nothing, damn sure not money, ayy\nSick ass niggas, they finna vomit, hey\nPlease shut up (Uh), please shut up (Uh)\nPlease shut up (Uh), please shut up (Uh)\n\nLiving room, full of way too many valuables\nOld miss bad and boujee attitude like she from Baton Rouge\nAfter school, made some revenue off that avenue\nNot a morning person, can I hit it in the afternoon? (In the morning)\nWoke up feelin' like the man, either Prada or the Vans\nMake ya choose up on ya man, interceptin' all the plans\nBenz truck, please shut up\nVS'd up, teeth glitz'd up\nYou might also like\nPlease shut up, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, ooh, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, ooh, please shut up\n\nGucci Mane and A$AP Rocky, I got such a rocky wrist (Burr)\nI was being humble, I'm back on my cocky shit (Burr)\nShe was being stuck up, now she onto jockin' shit (Huh)\nI was at the bottom, but now on top of the list (Gucci)\nFrom Harlem to the 6, let the ballers in this bitch\nHow you in the strip club ain't throwing dollars in this bitch?\nSee, we rollin' in money, and the dash do two hundred\nBaby, shut the fuck up and you can have you some hundreds\n\nPlease shut up, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, ooh, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, ooh, please shut up, ayy\n\nYeen ain't sayin' nothing, damn sure not money, ayy\nSick ass niggas, they finna vomit, hey\nPlease shut up, please shut up\nPlease shut up, please shut up\nUh, shut up, ayy, uh, shut up, ayy\nI'm flexin' round this bitch I used to fuck though\n7-7-7, hit my luck up\nGave you all this time, nigga what's up?\nHey, walk with friends tryin' to indict me\nDamn, I wipe my hands off with lightnin'\nAyy, lame ass nigga just sight-seein'\nAK got a scope, hey, when I'm sniping, whoa\n\nPlease shut up, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, ooh, please shut up, ayy\nPlease shut up, ooh, please shut up, ayy\n\nYeen ain't sayin' nothing, damn sure not money, ayy\nSick ass niggas, they finna vomit, hey\nPlease shut up, please shut up\nPlease shut up, please shut up\n\nUh, shut up, ayy, uh, shut up, ayy\nUh, shut up, ayy, uh, shut up, ayy\nUh, shut up, ayy, uh, shut up, ayy\nUh, shut up, ayy, uh, shut up, ayy"}
{"text":"49 ContributorsBYF Lyrics\nI just, I just wanna be your friend\n(I just, I just)\nI just, I, I, I just wanna be your friend\n(I just, I)\nAnd I, and I- menage with me and your girlfriend\nThis new sensation won't feel the same again\n\nTrying to fuck you and your friend shawty\nTrying to put a dick in your bitch, I'm sorry\nCare about the bitch, pass that to Carti\nPlaying with the money like the game Atari\nMight go to Saks Fifth, might go to Barney's\nMarGielaa, on me looking so clean\nYoung nigga clean like Listerine\nGot a new shawty from the Philippines\nRiding real slow, still getting this dough\nCeline on my Oscars 'cause I gotta stay low\nSmoking on Fronto, you're still smoking dro\nFeel on the girls in the Uber Tahoe\nWhen I pull up it's a car show\nNeon lights, my car glow\nBig bank like Wells Fargo\nTrying to get a Murcielago\nYou might also like\nI just, I just wanna be your friend\n(I just, I just)\nI just, I, I, I just wanna be your friend\n(I just, I)\nAnd I, and I- menage with me and your girlfriend\nThis new sensation won't feel the same again\n\nI just wanna be your friend\nCome through, we could count hundreds, no 10s\nCome chill with MarGielaa man\nWhat you wanna ride? Got a Bentley in the back\nAyy, baby in a Benz now\nNow she wanna pull up in a Phantom\nBack on\nEver since she don't gotta stress\nBlue bills in my pocket Benjamins\nDiamonds on my wrist, shine glistening\nYou came with the shawty in the rented whip\nI fucked up my shawty in expensive shit\nBuy her anything she need\nFly her out to Germany\nShe post pictures I retweet\nGive her shit she never seen, ayy\nI just, I just wanna be your friend\n(I just, I just)\nI just, I, I, I just wanna be your friend\n(I just, I)\nAnd I, and I- menage with me and your girlfriend\nThis new sensation won't feel the same again"}
{"text":"49 ContributorsWay Hii Lyrics\nSaid she in love with cocaina, love to sniff it, my nig'\nGave her drops of LSD, and  now she trippy, my nig'\nTold her if she get with me, I'll live life different, my nig'\nI'm official, ya dig? Come get with me, lil' bitch\n\nWay high, way high, way high\nWay high, way high\nEvery day we stay high, stay high, stay high\nStay high, stay high, stay high\nWay high, way high, way high\nWay high, way high\nEvery day we stay high, stay high, stay high\nStay high, stay high, stay high\n\nIt ain't hard to tell what the fuck I'm on\nEvery verse I have, every hook is on\nPlenty women 'round me with nothing on\nBad bitches only thing into my arms\n\nFloating as you rolling, smoking on this potent\nBaby say she want a line, I gave her purple potion\nNow I'm 'bout to go in, got her body soaking\nStroke it 'til the morning, well, I can't forget the Trojan\nYou might also like\nWay high, way high, way high\nWay high, way high\nEvery day we stay high, stay high, stay high\nStay high, stay high, stay high\nWay high, way high, way high\nWay high, way high\nEvery day we stay high, stay high, stay high\nStay high, stay high, stay high\n\nSaid she in love with cocaina, love to sniff it, my nig'\nGave her drops of LSD, now she trippy, my nig'\nTold if she get with me, I'll live life different, my nig'\nI'm official, ya dig? Come get with me, lil' bitch\n\nThis is how it goes\nNiggas sleepy high, wake up stoned\nClique up with my bros\nNigga, hit my line with my phone\nHop in the whip and I roll\nGetting these women, just giving them dick, that's for sho\nNiggas is talking, we living it though\nFinna' pull up in this bitch in my robe\nCozy Boyz sprinter on tour, fill it with hoes\nThey don't want drama, they gon' get exposed\nMy new bitch don't model, we drink out the bottle\nBe so high, you probably think our eyes closed\nYo Wiz, man this shit finna' go\nShe in love with the coke and I'm sipping the fo'\nSniffing lines off my dick, puttin' the tip of my dick in her nose, oh\nWhoa, where did we go?\nGot my own papers, I don't got to send you to the store\nGot a bitch who stash my weed and got another one to roll\nGot a bitch from Instagram who want to fuck me on the low\nFirst I slide up in them DMs then I slip into her throat\nWe stick to the code\nWay high, way high, way high\nWay high, way high\nEvery day we stay high, stay high, stay high\nStay high, stay high, stay high\nWay high, way high, way high\nWay high, way high\nEvery day we stay high, stay high, stay high\nStay high, stay high, stay high\n\nIt ain't hard to tell what the fuck I'm on\nEvery verse a half, every hook is on\nPlenty women 'round me with nothing on\nBad bitches only thing into my arms"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsFYBR (First Year Being Rich) Lyrics\nYeah, yeah\n\nFirst year being rich, I'm 'bout to cop a house on Riverside\nCheckin' off my list, I buy a boat, I put your crib inside\nMental need a fix, I'm feeling broken since my nigga died\nMultiply my chips, I'm losing count, it's hard to memorize\nBoost the economy, dollar for dollar, I gotta be\nLit up my neck, hit the lottery\nDid it for Prodigy, wilding in Prada, old Wallabee\nWorth in my mind and my prophecy\nCoppin these properties, came with a bank and monopoly\nJust bought estate in the colony\nBankin' a shot off the balcony, Mob with the Infantry\nRich what I gotta be, nigga\n\nMovin' stories and walkin' through the clouded room\nNot the first time being rich, not the first time seeing shit\nMade a promise I ain't going back to bein' broke\nFirst year being rich, went and copped me a brick (Brick, brick, brick!)\nNiggas hittin' bricks, then they shittin' bricks\nFuck your hit and miss, niggas missing hits\nIllegitimate at hitting licks\nGold neck full of hidden gems, in the gym, like I'm gettin' ripped\nMy rhetoric, nigga, let it drip, a half a billion by 36\nYou might also like\nTop of the year was broke (Cash out)\nDone been had lint in my pocket (Uh)\nNow I'm plugged like a socket (Huh), bankrolls in my pocket (Cash out)\nPaypal was on zero, now I'm counting more zeros\nBank account lookin' like Cheerios (Huh)\nWith a Mob-like Robert De Niro (Baow)\nHad to learn 'bout grind and patience\nTook my moms on a trip to Jamaica\nI thought I wasn't gon' make it (Huh), I was so impatient (Ayy)\nStressed out, my head was aching (Ayy), now my palms be itchin'\nNow these bitches trippin', now my bank be drippin'\n\nLast year I was broke, I ain't goin' back to shit (Yeah)\nThis my first year being rich, this my first year being rich (Right)\nNiggas give me dap and these hoes gon' show me love (Yeah)\nI remember what it was, I remember what it was (Alright)\nThis my first year being rich, this my first year being rich (Yeah)\nThis my first year being rich, this my first year being rich (Right)\nThis my first year being rich (Right), this my first year being rich (Right)\nThis my first year being rich, this my first year being rich, okay (Coo-coo, yeah)\n\nOoh, ooh, ooh, ooh\nShe want to rock with the man\nShe want to hop in the Lamb', rock with the band\nShe wanna rock with the gang (Rock with the gang)\nOoh, pop a lil' band\nOoh, I got mo' bands than yo' man (I got mo' bands than yo' man)\nStarted from pots and pans to all of these fans\nAnd all these hoes in my pants, ooh, ooh (All of these, all of these, all of these)\nI walk in that bih', I don't dance, ooh\nShe drippin', lil' bitch, she don't dance, ooh (Yeah)\nHoldin' my dick with no hands, ooh Right\nShe coolin' me off with no fan, ooh\nFree my lil' guy in the jam, ooh (Alright)\nI keep a drum like a band, ooh\nWe robbin these niggas, no change, ooh (Coo-coo, yeah)\nThen I take that to the floor, ooh\nI'm already rich but I feel like I'm broke (Alright)\nHuh, nigga, you know (Yeah)\nIf I go broke, I'ma cop me a O (Alright)\nYeah, buyin' my uncle a stove\nWhippin', whippin', whippin' real hard (Right)\nTeenage whippin' like he Betty Crocker (Right)\nShe eat the dick up, she the headdie mobster (Right)\nWhen the strippers on me, throw confetti dollars (That's right)\nWhen I touch a billion, that's when I'm rich\nStackin' my money, you not with the shits (Yeah)\nHundred on the Rollie and my mom got the crib\nThey callin' me Tookie, Ice bluer than a Crip (Alright)\nPut the hammer in the Benz cause I'm too legit to quit (Yeah)\nAddy caught me chillin' on the Audi with a bitch\nCall me Niggarace, each finger, it glists\nYou try to 2Pac me, I hit you with this, blaow!"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsRunner Lyrics\nThat, that, that, that, th-that be Maaly Raw\n\nYeah, um, I just be stackin' my money\nI just be countin' my money (Goddamn)\nYeah, walkin' around with these hundreds\nSomebody show my opponents\nYeah, I fucked your bitch on a Monday\nI put that dick in her stomach\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, most of you niggas be funny\nOnly talk to me 'bout money\n\nYeah, smile with my grin, now it's sunny\nSmile with my grin, now it's sunny\nAyy, nowadays I'm gettin' money\nEatin' my eggs little runny\nAyy, nowadays I'm takin' xannys\nThat shit turned me to a junkie\nYeah, I fucked your bitch\nShe sucked my dick and that ho got a donkey\nAyy, if you fight me and beat me\nPussy nigga better off me\nYeah, choppers, they come with the stick\nPut your ass right in the coffin\nYeah, better yet come with your clip\nHit your stomach, now you nauseous\nFuckin' your bitch, I'm a boss\nUsin' my defense, go straight through an offense\nDiamonds so heavy on teeth\n'Cause I swear to God I don't do the talkin'\nRaf Simons heavy on feet\n'Cause I swear to God I don't do the walkin'\nSmokin' this gas, I can't breathe\nThat's the reason a lil' nigga keep coughin' (Yeah, coughin')\nYeah I'm takin' these Xans, I can't see\nBut it's still Cartier right when I'm stoppin'\nYou might also like\nYeah, um, I just be stackin' my money\nI just be countin' my money (Goddamn)\nYeah, walkin' around with these hundreds\nSomebody show my opponents\nYeah, I fucked your bitch on a Monday\nI put that dick in her stomach\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, most of you niggas be funny\nOnly talk to me 'bout money\n\nTurned that bitch straight to a runner\nTurned that bitch straight to a runner\nTakin' a flight to London\nTakin' a flight to London\nTurned that bitch straight to a runner\nTurned that bitch straight to a runner\nTakin' a flight to London\nTakin' a flight to London\nDump at you more than Count Dracula\nCallin' my style spectacular\nSuckin' me off like Dracula\nD magic are like abracadabra\nWalk in the spot and I set that bitch off\nCoppin' that Ricky, don\u2019t care what the cost\nI hear you niggas, you takin' the sauce\nCash money on me, my diamonds go bling\nBeen rockin' designer\nI've been rockin' designer\nDamn, Acne jean jacket\nYeah, with the Rick Owens to match, I'm fly\nYeah, um, pull out that MAC\nUm, if you gon' pull on my racks\nWhippin' that shit and I whip in that shit\nAnd I stay in the trap\nYeah, um, I just be stackin' my money\nI just be countin' my money (Goddamn)\nYeah, walkin' around with these hundreds\nSomebody show my opponents\nYeah, I fucked your bitch on a Monday\nI put that dick in her stomach\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, I turned that bitch to a runner\nI turned that bitch to a runner\nYeah, most of you niggas be funny\nOnly talk to me 'bout money"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsXscape Lyrics\nI'm feelin' like Puff back in '98\nBad Boy here, boost the crime rate\nMy hand good but the nine great\nFuck the law, nigga, crime pays\nCan't tax dirty money\nThank the Lord for dirty money\nMan, I used to be dead broke\nNow my bank full of dead folks\nGet the Benjis for my brothers\nGrants for the bills and the Jacksons to my mother\nMomma love kept me so clean\nAnd I got it with the dope fiends\nNow I'm tryna get my dough clean\nHoes scream when they get a glimpse of the whole team\nIn that Velour VLONE\nA Nutcracker at the kingdom\n\"Work\" banging on my ringtone\nWhole team getting dough, she ain't even know\nIt's the year of that A$AP\nNiggas slept on us now it's time for that payback\nIt's mad stress round here\nGot my bulletproof vest and my Tec round here\nI just wanna get away\nBut I can't get away\nIt's mad stress round here\nGot my bulletproof vest and my Tec round here\nI just wanna get away\nBut I can't get away\nYou might also like\nIt's like my back's against the wall\nSee a nigga want it all, run the game with my dogs\nSee they praying that I fall\nAnother mural on the wall, front page of the Source\nA blood stain on the floor\nAnother black boy lost, left slain in the Porsche\nMan, they killed my nigga Stack B\nI'm yelling, free my nigga Max B\nMan, they killed that boy Trayvon\nI got the right to carry firearms\nBill of Rights, I know my shit\nBunch of books and some loaded clips, tell the law\n\"Suck my dick\"\nFree my nigga S-1\nAnd Remy too, for them two I'm a wreck, son\nLight somethin', know a nigga stressed\nKnow a nigga blessed, gotta get this shit up off my chest\nFuck the rest, 'cause when sun is set\nI'ma burn in that, then kill some clowns with my loaded Tec\nTrigger happy, nigga nappy head peasy\nMotherfucker, be easy motherfucker, ha\n\nIt's mad stress round here\nGot my bulletproof vest and my Tec round here\nI just wanna get away\nBut I can't get away\nIt's mad stress round here\nGot my bulletproof vest and my Tec round here\nI just wanna get away\nBut I can't get away\nI just wanna get away\nBut I can't get away\nIt's mad stress round here\nBut I can't get away\nIt's mad stress round here\nGot my bulletproof vest and my Tec round here\nI just wanna get away\nBut I can't get away\nThere's no way out\nThere's no way out\nThere's no way out\nWanna get away\nBut I can't get away"}
{"text":"57 ContributorsGotham City Lyrics\nPoint 'em out, where he at? Chrome nine, point the MAC\nSit him down in the trap, four pound for the strap\nBig guns go \"B'lat!\" A$AP where it's at\nReal niggas, all black, sip lean, so relax\nPoint em out where he at, chrome nine point the Mac\nSit him down in the trap, four pound for the strap\nBig guns go \"B'lat!\" A$AP where it's at\nReal niggas, all black, Cozy Boys, so relax\n\nYoung Trap Lord, dime of the purp\nRide or die boy, nigga get murked\nPull a nine boy, play with the dirt\nLaying on who sleep in the earth\nShe feel on my clothes, she lifting her skirt\nShe say she love coke, she sniffin the work\nSemi-auto Tec, guns go flur\nBang, bang-bang and another one squirt\nGivenchy my body, Ksubi my colleagues\nVersace, my eyelids, but it Yves Saint-Laurent me\nTwelvyy in Huraches, and Margiela on Rocky\nYohji Yamamoto for Ty Nast and Ty Beats\nFuck bitches that's on me, wack bitches move kindly\nLast niggas of a dying breed, yeah me, myself, and Irene\nNiggas hear them sirens when that four-fif' and that nine squeeze\nChina bitch sip sake, while I chop that ass with that Tommy\nYou might also like\nPoint 'em out, where he at? Chrome nine, point the MAC\nSit him down in the trap, four pound for the strap\nBig guns go \"B'lat!\" A$AP where it's at\nReal niggas, all black, sip lean, so relax\nPoint em out where he at, chrome nine point the Mac\nSit him down in the trap, four pound for the strap\nBig guns go \"B'lat!\" A$AP where it's at\nReal niggas, all black, Cozy Boys, so relax\n\nWe all want that Meech money, gold grill make ya speak funny\nMy eyes open cause the streets hungry\nA New Jack fuckin' Gee money\nNiggas dead over sneak money, shit ain't sweet, honey\nThe streets love me, white Airs and a peach rugby\nI go hard cause them niggas thought the least of me\nI'm in the hell yeah that bitch made a beast of me\nHold your crib, while your bitch make a feast of me\nI'm a greedy nigga stuffin' my face\nGettin' money, fuckin' bitches, yeah, them stuck in my ways\n'bout to turn 23 but I give zero fucks\nNiggas wanna sign me, tell them niggas zero up, wassup\n\nPoint 'em out, where he at? Chrome nine, point the MAC\nSit him down in the trap, four pound for the strap\nBig guns go \"B'lat!\" A$AP where it's at\nReal niggas, all black, sip lean, so relax\nPoint em out where he at, chrome nine point the Mac\nSit him down in the trap, four pound for the strap\nBig guns go \"B'lat!\" A$AP where it's at\nReal niggas, all black, Cozy Boys, so relax\nIt's a pistol poppin' business nigga mind ya own\nExpensive taste in guns, shorty's coppin' chrome\nI'm in love with a chopper dog, hit 'em, get 'em, split 'em\nTurn a fuck nigga into a bowl of pasta dog, I'm not at all\nA nigga to be fucked with, shorty got the hammer, niggas can't touch this\nMoms got the biscuit, dad own a musket, gone off a substance\nMiddle finger up to the bitch who would fuck shit\nLiving in a world where young niggas run shit\nAll over something, but it's really nothing\nGo on with the fuck shit, young niggas run this all\n\nPoint 'em out, where he at? Chrome nine, point the MAC\nSit him down in the trap, four pound for the strap\nBig guns go \"B'lat!\" A$AP where it's at\nReal niggas, all black, sip lean, so relax\nPoint em out where he at, chrome nine point the Mac\nSit him down in the trap, four pound for the strap\nBig guns go \"B'lat!\" A$AP where it's at\nReal niggas, all black, Cozy Boys, so relax"}
{"text":"52 ContributorsCoziest Lyrics\nI ain't no joke, yeah, I ain't half-steppin', hey\nGotta keep a weapon, hey, why you asking questions? Say\nYou an adolescent, yeah, I'm a bigger homie, yeah\nKeep the trigger on me, yeah, keep the figures on me, yeah\nFeel like Jason Figgis, hey, all the crazy niggas, hey (Oh)\nGoin' crazy brazy, hey, product of the 80s, say\nPulled up in a Phantom, hey, pulled up in a Vincent, yeah\nAll the bitches dancing, yeah, all my diamonds dancing, yeah (Oh)\nAll my hoes here, 'kay, pull up over there, yeah\nProbably pop a bottle, shit, probably pop a model, yeah (Oh)\nHow a nigga do it? Yeah, we ain't new to this, yeah\nWe just true to this, hey, bitches want the kiss, yeah\n\nI'm the coziest, staying Coogi down to the socks (To the socks)\nWhere your homies went? Niggas probably buying back the block (Oh)\nBring a hundred in, talkin' 'bout we buying up the stocks (Oh)\nCall the homies up, count it up, we load it to the dock (To the dock)\nI'm the coziest, they ain't Coogi down to the socks (To the socks)\nWhere your homies went? Niggas probably buying back the block (Oh)\nBring a hundred in, talkin' 'bout we buying up the stocks (Oh)\nCall the homies up, count it up and load it to the dock (To the dock)\n\nMix Egyptian cotton with the Murakami\nArcade in my kitchen, TVs in my lobby\nGot a dozen sections, buyin' 'em all projections\nCozy boy be flexing, I ain't never resting\nAlways at my leisure, crib got special features\nEverywhere a station, everywhere a speaker\nSpacious so exquisite, TP with the heater\nTreehouse on the roof, I gotta take a breather\nYou might also like\nI'm the coziest, staying Coogi down to the socks (To the socks)\nWhere your homies went? Niggas probably buying back the block (Oh)\nBring a hundred in, talkin' 'bout we buying up the stocks (Oh)\nCall the homies up, count it up, we load it to the dock (To the dock)\nI'm the coziest, they ain't Coogi down to the socks (To the socks)\nWhere your homies went? Niggas probably buying back the block (Oh)\nBring a hundred in, talkin' 'bout we buying up the stocks (Oh)\nCall the homies up, count it up and load it to the dock (To the dock)\n\nAll I count is hunnids, yeah, all I see is green, huh\nIt's the money saying, life is but a dream\nAll I count is hunnids, yeah, all I want is hunnids, yeah\nAll I see is green, did it for my team\n\nI'm the coziest, staying Coogi down to the socks (To the socks)\nWhere your homies went? Niggas probably buying back the block (Oh)\nBring a hundred in, talkin' 'bout we buying up the stocks (Oh)\nCall the homies up, count it up, we load it to the dock (To the dock)\nI'm the coziest, they ain't Coogi down to the socks (To the socks)\nWhere your homies went? Niggas probably buying back the block (Oh)\nBring a hundred in, talkin' 'bout we buying up the stocks (Oh)\nCall the homies up, count it up and load it to the dock (To the dock)"}
{"text":"35 ContributorsBangin\u2019 on Waxx Lyrics\nShe love me, I'm a thug\n\nYeah, it's that mothafuckin' Ferg\nSipping that Persian wine\nEgyptian god, Dark Caesar line\nTalk to me nice or don\u2019t talk to me at all, big money shit\n\nAll of these bitches is on me\nAll of my bitches is rocking Devoni\n\nTalk to me nice or don't talk to me at all\n\nThis that fucking nigga, Fergen-stein\nAnd I\u2019m finna shine, cause a nigga on his grind\nSipping that lean and I'm finna lose my fucking mind\nKissing codeine and I fucking commit crime, see ya hear me?\nNiggas know with me! Bobby, Whitney, spit that crack\nGot that Mac, in the back of the Acura black\nAs matter of fact, get them facts, right\nComing through with the fucking gun or the knife\nDo you want your wife, do you want your life, tell me nigga\nAnd I got that heater, you know that Tommy Hilfiger\nYou might also like\nTy Beats the God, A$AP Ferg the God, we A$AP\nTalk to me nice or don\u2019t talk to me at all, big money\n\nHerringbone on my neck, bulletproof my vest\nShorty get in my Lex, she about to give me sex\nCause of my Rolex, giving me dope neck\nBack to the studio, now she fucking the whole clique\n\nNasty baby, nigga crack in the sock, 90's nigga, uh\n\nWhat a mothafuckin' day\nNasty back and I'm strapped with that mothafuckin' AK\nGot this crack up in my, sock\nAnd these coppers on my dick, they tryna catch me on the fucking block\nRat-tat-tat when I squirt\nI don't give a damn about your life so I'mma lay you in this fucking dirt\nNow get in my hearse, should have got him a purse, niggas is pussy\nI said it don't push me, I\u2019m all on my grind and they can\u2019t overlook me\nI style in my Stussy, hoes wanna do he\nLike him in a Ksubi, come get at this coochie, I'm smelling like \"ooo wee\"\nRubbing your booty while I'm smoking a loosie in my jacuzzi\nI told that bitch, if you feel it, might be woozie, come and see me\nI can hit it in a, in a movie, then I'm leaving\nOut to my city, where I be breezing, I come through sneezing\nUp on that track just how I do it, I'm speaking the fluent\nYou talking that shit, I\u2019m one of the new kids, just spitting up fluid, bitch"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsNasty\u2019s World Lyrics\nFuck that bitch she's type scandalous anyways\nAin't nobody got time for her\nThat bitch's breath stinks and you know her pussy stinks\n(That ass is fat) No, what we doing back there\nYo, Carti, I bet you ate that bitch out two weeks ago\n(Say what noooo he wasn't ready)\nNo, Keisha told me that, but I didn't believe it\nNow I believe it, that bitch house smell like piss I\u00a0heard!\nLet's go to the Bronx though, I\u00a0got these bitches, real\u00a0talk\nFlacko's not coming bro\nLet's gon' go to the Bronx bro\nWe gon' take a Snapchat, he gon' fuck with it\nLet's go to Dyckman and fuck with the hoes\nIt's time to get live, live, live like a wire\nTime to get live, live, live, live like a wire\nIt's time to get live, live, live like a wire\nTime to get live, live, live, live like a wire\n\nCheck it out, yo, yo-yo, numero uno\nI'm big dog Cujo, slamming rappers like a\u00a0sumo\nJust bought a two do', I'm one nigga macking two hoes\nMy style too cold, the wild child, but who are you though?\nI'm kung-fu flow, the gangsta corny like that movie Juno\nAnd fuck your vest my gun shoots through those\nShoot up your funeral, then leave out screaming \u201cKudos!\u201d\nBut keep it cool though, the messy ones\nWe don't do those, but you know the Mob major\nNiggas hate us, they bitches want to date us\nWe keep their pussy wet and see em' later\nThe whole style made up and yo for real though\nYou can't faze us, yo keep it real son, we too playa\nCan't even say much, my live wire'll burn your place up\nI tell you straight up, I'm hardcore go get your weight up\nYou might also like\nIt's time to get live, live, live like a wire\nTime to get live, live, live, live like a wire\nIt's time to get live, live, live like a wire\nTime to get live, live, live, live like a wire\nI'm past the focus, I'm in my zone, fuck who hasn't noticed\nHoes ain't like me, said I'm ugly, now they acting open\nPussy soaking, I pimp the hoes like my name's Goldie\nThe name's Nasty, yeah. Your freak know me\nI beat the box, leave that thing swollen\nCruise through my\u00a0city with my hammer loaded\nThe pigs annoying like the sound of locusts\nI style wild plus my rhymes the dopest\nMy squad the best, a bunch of lyrical soldiers\nJust Roc-A-Fella, Hov-a-sclupture\nWe drink Henny like soda, reject chicks like \u201chold-up!\u201d\nAnd know the game like we 'ppose to\nOur lives are like a roller coaster\nThe ups and downs keep my fam closer\nNo sneak attacks, these niggas can't approach us\nDamn jokers, we stack chips\nAnd keep the heat for vultures\nThat anyday could try to run up on us,\u00a0uh\nIt's time to get live, live, live like a wire\nTime to get live, live, live, live like a wire\nIt's time to get live, live, live like a wire\nTime to get live, live, live, live like a wire"}
{"text":"42 Contributors2013 BET Hip Hop Awards - A$AP Mob Cypher Lyrics\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\n\nIt ah ring? It ah ring\nA little Fergenstein with a little Shabba Ranks\nA train of Jamaican girls that love the Cuban links\nGot 'em wining like Lil Kim in bikini minks\nNo Limit soldier with a bunch of little tanks\nHit 'em where it hurts, make them dudes feel the pain\nBlood stain on what remains for two gold chains\nWhite gold on my gums like cocaine\n'Rari and Jaguar switching four lanes\nTop down screaming out, \"Money ain't a thang\"\n\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\n\nI bet the lord never worries, couple niggas buried\nSee the good die young, gun shots then it's bury\nSo I'm off in a hurry, I ain't forcing no jury\nTo convince me, trill shit, I'm trying to stay big free\nGot a budget for the lawyer, risk my freedom on the corner\nIt ain't worth it, making history is more important\nMy thoughts are soaring, smoking power, Mighty Morphin\nTrip to Fiji in the morning, getting jiggy with a foreign\nLook I just finished touring, Worldwide residential\nIt all started with a pencil, now my suite presidential\nLaid up with a bad chick, that never had shit\nHold diamonds and guns, you think I'm mad rich\nYou might also like\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\n\nFrom a crack hole down in hells gate\nTo a new breath of air and a brighter day\nIt's a lighter way, I feel good enough\nTo buy a bunch of real estate, move my mother out her space\nWhy? Cause it's the new power anthem\nAnd nigga, we the new black panthers\nGet your hands up, we in it for the ransom\nMoney, power, respect: LOX gave us the answer\nNew World Order say Always Strive and Prosper\nI know God is watching over me, wash away my sins\nNow I'm in this bitch a longer stay, A$AP nigga\nTell my cousin that I'm on my way, in a hurry\nFuck a hater, I just gotta tie my waist\n\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\nCity on my back like I run a campaign\nBaltimore USA, that's my domain\nUsed to sip mad dog, now it's champagne\nUsed to rock the bus, now I catch a damn plane\nGot a white chick who love cocaine\nChill with filled with a young boys pain\nRob anybody that got a gold chain\nFrom Baltimore where you here the shots rang\nPeanut butter insides be the wood grain\nPull up in an all white paints #Balmain\n'bout to blow like nitro, propane already\n\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\n\nI wrote this shit in business class, give me jet lag\nThis for years of oppressions and the set backs\nThis for chinks, niggas, jews and the wet backs\nCrackers towel heads and I can't forget the les, drags\nThis is Huey Newton with the uzi shooting\nThe trill Martin Luther fin to spark the ruger\nMalcolm X's muslim army marching to ya block\nBring the chopper to your preacher's screaming hallejuehah!\nDear Mr. President, I'm the shit\nHello, White America, suck my dick\nThey say Lords Never Worry, no hope for the kids\nYoung blood was a thug caught slugs from a crip\nMy father, our father, God father\nGlocks in the air, HiiiPower\nThis is Kendrick off a visit Jimi's watch tower\nA longer, seems like Martin dreaming for the longest\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)\nMy yute, dem boys, dem a flex\nClap with the nine, better aim for your chest (Lawd)"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsBlack Card Lyrics\nUh, black card, black card\nBlack card, uh, uh, uh\nBlack card, black card\n\nBlack card, black card, drivin' foreigns like a NASCAR\nDumb ops, drop top, pull up on you, let it pop out\nGot all these O's in my bank account\nI got Rocky with me, we be ballin' out\nI got VLONE on me when I'm poppin' out\nDon't come through talkin' high how you in my town\nNew whip, new chick on the 9 where they kill shit\nAll black, it's going ham, I'm getting fly, as they swiping shit\nI just dropped a rack for these Balmains (Swipe swipe)\nAnd I hit a lick and I flew right to L.A (Swipe swipe)\nSwitching lanes with the gang do it all day\nOn the block where they trappin' the hard way\n.40 shots, brain pop, all up on you with like 50 Glocks\nMy whip, two grips, drive-by, empty out a clip\nBlack card, black car, drivin' foreigns like a NASCAR\nDumb ops, drop top, pull up on you, let it pop out\n\nBlack cops, black SWATs, black Glocks, bad blocks\nBlack thots, ass shots, fat twats, black box\nMash box, pass ops, ragtops, bad drops\nBlack hat, black plaques, flat tops, dreadlocks\nHigh tops, red dots, black hole, headshots\nDot dots, last stop, last call, last shots\nBlack card, black card\nFuck boy, act hard, black heart, that part\nYou might also like[Chorus: Smooky Margielaa & A$AP Rocky, A$AP Rocky &\nSmooky Margielaa]\nBlack card, black card, black card, black card\nBlack card, black card, black card, black card\nYou could tell I run the business\nBroke nigga mind ya business (Mind ya business)\nMan, I spend with no limits\nY'all just started what we finish\nBlack card, black card, black card, black card\nBlack card, black card, black card, black card\nBlack American Express, black man tryna flex\nAll black when I dress (Black card say it less)"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsFunkmaster Flex Freestyle (2014) Lyrics\nLook, I\u2019m out for presidents that represent me\nBenz and Bentley, head from Lindsey\nLike Lohan,  nigga evidently\nThe hoes in every city, hella swift\nOnce had a bad yellow bitch\nLet her strip, life ain\u2019t been the same ever since\nThe oddball in a room full of elephants\nMy elegance take me to them other elements\nWith jew and jewels, a chain full of evidence\nMy jewelry is my jury and my face got embezzlement\nMotherfuckin\u2019 syndicate, delicate, intelligence\nConnected out to the Netherlands\nMy music goes out and moves predicates\nSo mommy, tell a friends and tell a friend\nRun and tell a friend and tell a friend\nEmail me to tell a friend\nThat crack I got will sell gain\nSwear this purple lean is like my medicine\nCould probably roll some weed and we the best of friends\nProbably go to places that I never been\nI heard that voice up in my head again, represent\n\nYo, ayo, I\u2019m passing focus\nI\u2019m in my zone, fuck who haven\u2019t noticed\nHoes ain\u2019t like me, said I\u2019m ugly, now they actin\u2019 open\nPussy soakin\u2019 I pimp that hoe like my name Goldie\nThe name\u2019s Nasty, yeah, Your freak know me\nI beat the box, leave that thing swollen\nPeace to my city with my hammer loaded\nPigs annoying like the sound of locusts\nI style wild plus my rhymes the dopest\nMy squad\u2019s the best, a bunch of lyrical soldiers\nRock a fella, Hova\u2019s culture\nWe drink Henny like soda, reject chicks like \u201chold up\u201d\nAnd know the game like we supposed to\nOur lives are like the rollercoaster\nThe up\u2019s and down\u2019s keep my fam closer\nNo sneak attacks, these niggas can\u2019t approach us\nDamn jokers, we stack chips to keep the heat from vultures\nThat any day could try to run up on us, Mob life\nYou might also like\nMob Life, A$AP Mob life I fuck a mob wife\nI did it twice yeah I\u2019m trife I don\u2019t give a fuck\nI kill a nigga do life do life twice you\nDo 2pac like I roll dice\nPut your life on the line, bet it nigga I dead it\nWho said it they don\u2019t want it with niggas who set the game\nFuck that I don\u2019t even need a chain\nI get bitches off the game, or the swagger\nIn the lyrics you couldn't hear it my shit exquisite\nI\u2019m in the\u2026 (ugh)\nWhen I flow it, I keep it going, he got the pink bucket\nLike fuck it I gotta tell her suck it\nShe ain\u2019t never do it her man coming, and now she ducking\nNow I\u2019m in the truckin\u2019 and we in the beamer, couldn\u2019t see him\nWhen he coming through gleamin\u2019 because I got this bitch named Tima\nAnd she gave me her number last summer frontin on a nigga\nNow I got a number one song she running to a nigga, fuck that\n\nOh, you talkin\u2019 about Tima, riding in the beamer? (yeah)\nAnd the sneakers was looking cleaner now they all on lean up\nNow I\u2019m tipping lean up now I\u2019m on the clean-up\n\u2018Cause I\u2019m cleaning all these rappers, niggas know I\u2019m in this\nGoing to the cleaners with the Beamer \u2018cause I got that new Versace shit\nNow my shit is cleaner and I\u2019m chilling with Flex\nAnd your bitch give me sex, and she give me the next\nWhen I\u2019m grabbing her text, \u2018Cause I got the tech with the vest\nAnd you shooting at your neck, nigga you about to get it next\nI'm so bomb, Flex drop one\nFuck that, hella hoes, Flex we got one\nYo, I might be like 2Pac\u2019s son\nI pop one, fuck that take it to Queens I pop them\nFuck that got a shotgun, Glock Glock, pull it\nFuck that, you couldn\u2019t see these, ra-ra, bullets\nRa-ta-ta-ta, Ra-ta-ta-ta, nigga fu-fu shit\nFuck that I come through with that exclusive new shit\nYou on that FUBU shit, I\u2019m I  got a new boo shit\nI don\u2019t give a fuck I\u2019m on that red shit, that blue shit\nThat white, black shit you act quick\nGet smacked quick, I don\u2019t give a fuck i rap until I got chapped lips\nI keep chapstick my flow make you do black flips\nI act sick, you act sick? I pack six\nGuns, triggers, niggas, couldn\u2019t fuck with us\nTommy Hilfiger, we brought it back, all of that\nStarter caps and we got the naughty shorties\nThey love it, coming in the club with forties\nLike, we couldn\u2019t afford these\nMotherfuckin\u2019 wine and champagne bottles\nIs you out your fuckin\u2019 mind?\nI could save a dime, a hundred times\nIf I pop it like I\u2019m fuckin\u2019 balling\nBut I ain\u2019t, I\u2019m shot calling\nWho coming home?\nYo, yo, when you getting slow bucks they come at your name\nAnd I come off flipping like Flex and Dame\nNiggas don\u2019t know I stay flexin\u2019 on ya dame\nAnd that bitch gave me the ass, she gave me the brain\n\nUntil 50 cent run up and take your chain\nHe ain\u2019t gonna do that to me \u2018cause I got that thing\nOh shit, I heard he with the G-Unit gang\nAy, but we with that A$AP MOB\n\nShout outs to Slow Bucks\nThat\u2019s my nigga, he know its love\nI give no fucks\nI know this bitch named Simmy she gives me slow fucks\nYou know I gave about four bucks\n\u2018Cause she a known hoe, but you know, keep that on the low though\nI walk down yellow brick like Toto\nI got a four do\u2019, ruby slippers, I got my bitch with her\nShe got a bitch Suzie with her\nAnd you know I did it in the Jacuzzi\nAnd you remember them bitch from back in the day\nWith the finger waves?\n\nYou talking about Suzie, in the Jacuzzi?\nWearing Gucci? She got the fat coochie\nWith the big ass booty? (uh huh) I remember that shorty\nShe was drinking a forty and she was acting naughty\nYeah, I like to get up in the red though\nAnd she liked my clothes and she liked my earlobes\n\nYeah though, but you know, she likes to fuck with the weirdos\nWe don\u2019t do those, I\u2019m a werewolf, we don\u2019t wear those\nI like the bitches, the birds, I flock \u2018em, I\u2019m a scarecrow\nFlacko be the name, yeah ho, fuck that shit it\u2019s my year though\nNast what you said, remember the bitch that would give\u2026\n\nWe shot but we don\u2019t ever hear though\nI\u2019m here but I\u2019m not like air though\nI put the shot to your earlobe\nYo Nasty style, nasty baby, and I\u2019m wild\nWho that? That\u2019s the kid, go ask about him\nHold up, niggas throw...from the bottom\nFuck that...\n\nI got one question, while you flowing\nFlex been doing this for years so he knowing\nWe got it open and you know this shit clean\nAyo, Flex you a vet, can I get a sixteen?\nWhat\u2019s popping man? Let me hear something\nDrop a bomb for the town nigga\n(I don\u2019t even have a ten or a twelve)\n\nI\u2019m out for presidents who represent me\nI\u2019m hardcore buzzing, ain\u2019t got time for stunting\nAin\u2019t got time for nothing, I\u2019m that new era quit your speculation boy\nThat\u2019s nasty baby, now he crazy, like , who fucking with the boy?\nSuper lowed out, I had my team, my sneaks, my jeans and all that\nPerform in all black, your bitch is wet like where her draws at?\nI\u2019ve had in all that, I\u2019ve fucked her once and never call back\nCan\u2019t trust these dusty bitches on my ballsack\nFuck with the door cracked, you clowns can  hate or get your skull cracked\nWhen I be wasted, taking blunts of Cali\u2019s finest took each to the face\nI know complacent G\u2019s, warm-hearted the rapper-type, that act alike\nNo we don\u2019t rap alike, the flow courageous, son of Satan, we up\n\nYG Addie back on that bullshit\nLike Carl Ripken when the ball hit\nY\u2019all broke niggas giving out no tips\nY\u2019all order one bottle, y\u2019all share sips\nYou got no hoes nigga you ain\u2019t no pimp\nI about to touch the sky see my name on a blimp\nBought Coke white air-1\u2019s looking like a mint\nLint on your pocket looking real famished\nGet a little buzz then y\u2019all vanish\nI\u2019m over the pot, I\u2019m doing magic\nI rush like a brick, real tannish\nI speak into the plug in Spanish\nI got a dope strip, out in Kansas\nI ride on a horse like a bandit\nSend me back in school like a fucking campus\nFree crack, free crack I whip in the wrist\nI got a red-nosed chick  just like a pit\n(Chanting: Drop a bomb on it Flex)\n\nYo, I\u2019m like die another day\nTry another day\nNiggas dying everyday\nI\u2019m just tryna get away\nFeeling nice up in the stu\u2019\nI\u2019m just tryna get my pay\nIs he tryna play it safe\nWell I\u2019m tryna make ya shake\nBreak the bank\nLike my nigga Q all up in your safe\nI got this bitch think I\u2019m cute\nAll up in my face\nIf she move like she gotta move\nShe can get a spade\nIf I do what I gotta do\nI could get a plate\nFeel it\u2019s hard up in these street\nI\u2019ve been starving for some weed\nFuck the stardom, I\u2019ll take the fuckin\u2019 sneakers off your feet\nLook at me, so unique, tell you niggas I\u2019m just living like a G\nIn the land of the free, I\u2019m just tryna be me\nSee, free is the only way to be motherfucker\n(Chanting: Drop a bomb on it Flex)\n\nI jump like Wesley in White Men Can\u2019t Jump\nDon\u2019t touch my shoes, these ain\u2019t Reebok Air Pumps\nI\u2019m balling different these Yves Saint Laurent\nI\u2019m telling you I put crosses on them like AND-1\nI\u2019m Shamguard with the Vanguard\nI\u2019m a damn Lord not a damn guard\nMost of you like damn broads\nPocket full with tampons\nSickening\nGet a teaspoon of this medication\nKeep working and watch he boom of a dedication\nBlow up like its detonation, so much I could dead a nation\nMartin had a dream? Well I be blacking like its segregation\nHold up? What I say? I said I\u2019m not Madoff\nBut I made off, scheming on niggas pay off\nI never take a day off\nYour stache is shaved off, like Adolf Hitler\nYou should lay off, on the game you talk \u2018cause you fake dog\nYou never pushed no yay dog\nAin\u2019t seen no keys like Ray Charles\nIt\u2019s me and Meek in a Maybach\nWe get Wale and take off\nWe got your bitch in a big house\nShe walkin\u2019 hype like \u201cHey Rock, how you doing?\u201d\nGet with her and take her now we ballin\nOut to the Lakers how we ballin\u2019\nLike you vacant, you probably catching the vapors\nHouse on a hill, fucked your girl and your neighbors\nThinking Khloe don\u2019t know me? I\u2019m in the Kardashian haven\nI\u2019m in a Kardashian, I\u2019m lying, can\u2019t I pretend?\nThey say fake it \u2018til you make it\nWell let the faking begin\nI got a bitch with fake titties, fake ass she all in the Benz\nTitties will probably fall like a ball when she bend\nMy niggas from Harlem, and Philly all get it in\nIf your bitch come around us, we fucking her and a friend"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsTropical Lyrics\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\n\nI need a jazzy lil' bitch\nNothin' get past me, lil' bitch\nDon't want me no average lil' bitch\nWant me a savage lil' bitch, huh\nAss fat, it's overweight, ayy\nShe been riding on my wave, huh\nTake her on a dinner date\nTell her just sit on my face, huh, yes, ooh\nHer boyfriend run the bando\nWhile I'm runnin' out the back door\nYes, I am the wiz', huh\nI want a tropical bitch, huh\nGot me a tropical bitch, huh\nAss, fat, shit, huh\nGot me a tropical bitch huh\nAss, fat, shit\n\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nYou might also like\nExotic, my bitch from the tropical\nGuide her with choppas through, optional\nShowout, there's rooms at the hospital, optional\nPhysical, necklace is bad for your optical\nVisual, optional, optional\nAbstinence, celibacy\nSell her pussy on accident (optional)\nShe sell a bit when she prostitute (optional)\nDick so good, make her beg for it (hey)\nI lick so good, make her pay for it\nPull a stack out like wait for it\nThrow it in the air like rainforest, pouring\nTropical, tropical, these niggas not on my altitude\nLongitude, latitude, whats with the long face and attitude?\nFlex like it's no other option to\n\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\n\nI left my bitch for dope, I'm fuckin' with a better bitch\nShe love to cook food and she love to suck dick\nShe love to sip lean and she love to bust straps\nI'ma have to take it easy, let lil' shorty do my hits, yeah\nCookin' up that white, I got it lookin' like some grits\nI never sniff that work unless it's off Rihanna tits\n'Less it's off Selena tits\n'Less it's off Beyonc\u00e9 tits\nWe can't front them boys no work\nCallin' up he need a brick\nCallin' up I need a 6\nJuggin' at the Motel Six\nI was smokin' loaded sticks\nFuck my bitch while watchin' flicks\nI can't go no low, thats it\nFuck you mean we talkin' chips?\nHot like takis when I spit\nEyes real low, no Tokyo drift\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch\nI need a tropical bitch, I need a tropical bitch"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsJay Reed Lyrics\nMany snakes in the grass, faith in my past\nDecember 21st coming straight for that ass\nNo gay slander, but I'm not a fan of\nBitch made niggas just posing for the cameras\nWe know who you really are, internet superstar\nMr. Orange leave your dog drowning in the reservoir\nYou could never get the best of us\nMac live yo neck ajar yeah, that is Hollywood repertoire\nNiggas be acting, my niggas be rappin'\nMoney and traffic, inglorious bastards\nMel Tarantino, Twelvy F Pachino\n6 inch blacks in my Tee by Marino\nWhore for the C-Notes\nSome more with a Cee-Lo\nFour, five, six pass me all that grip\nFly young fella, pro-tools terror\nWords to my mom, we gon' own this era\nClever with the password, don't even ask for it\nTwelvy know to blast first, even had a cash verse\nLike a bank nigga, blowing on some dank\nGetting higher than that plane shorty tell me what you think\n'bout a bachelor slash trapper slash rapper\nAll that fly shit come after, no pastor\nFlow NASA, with my brother Nasty\nI highly doubt I\u2019ll let these niggas get past me\nYou might also like\nCause there ain't no such things as halfway crooks\nScared to death, he scared to look, he shook\nCatch a nigga on the late night\nWhile he with his bitch like Cam at the brake light\nCause there ain't no such things as halfway crooks\nScared to death, he scared to look, he shook\nCatch a nigga on the late night\nWhy a nigga slipping like Harold at the brake light\n\nI'm only 19 but my mind is older\nWhen this shit get for real my warm heart turn cold\nSnuff a hipster rapper, knock the fucking chip off his shoulder\nLater I have his main bitch coming over, she roll his weed\n'fore she do the deed, studio with a jar of weed\nTryna turn a couple raps into a couple hundred Gs\nLiving out my dreams, I feel like I ain't slept in fucking weeks\nJust to think this come from what I speak\nGot my stain in this game, from stacking bread and pimping whores\nKnow I keep it low-key like a motherfucking midget door\nHigh school I was pitching pills, a couple niggas did the raw\nSitting on a couple P's this rap shit was the other door\nYeah nigga chose it, now I got these hoes open\nI fuck them, they tell they man their phone was broken\nAnd I'm blowing on that potent whipping in the seven like it's stolen\nLots of niggas tellin\u00b4 me and my team was showin\nAnd I'm riding east side till the spokes break\nLeave the studio for a motherfucking smoke break\nGet your main ho to come through for a throat break\nDoin niggas like Richie\nI'm Alpo, you don't know AZ, nigga\nCause there ain't no such things as halfway crooks\nScared to death, he scared to look, he shook\nCatch a nigga on the late night\nWhile he with his bitch like Cam at the brake light\nCause there ain't no such things as halfway crooks\nScared to death, he scared to look, he shook\nCatch a nigga on the late night\nWhy a nigga slipping like Harold at the brake light"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsClouds Lyrics\nLately I've been havin' thoughts (Mhm)\nLike if I was just left alone, I'd probably be better off (Mhm)\nGimme some, let her off (Mhm)\n, money, nigga, ain't no letter off\nUh, bad dream (Mhm), truth is the King needs but a castle, uh\nDon't aim it at me, won't at you\nStill bless you, no achoo, uh\nWhen you wanna die, they gon' make a statue\nNumbers, take numbers, commas, big numbers\nDon't take names, take nothin'\nFrom no one, ayy, and I'm on one\nJust took a fish with some pills\nI'm in the fifth throwin' bills\nStop lyin', you ain't met a nigga rich like this bitch, uh\nEver since, pretty teeth gets glistenin' like this bitch, uh\nCrossed over it's like swish\nLeft hand, switch, switch\nJump, jump, Kris, Kris\nCross, cross, flick wrist\n\nDiamonds all on my wrist (No)\nNo, I usually don't miss (Miss)\nGot a wrist make you cold (Huh?)\nGod, I swear it make you sick (Woo)\nFollow me, might fall (Yeah)\nMight slip on the drip (Lil Uzi)\nMight slide in the whip (Lil Uzi)\nMight fuck on your bitch (Lil Uzi)\nSo good, gave her tip (Yeah)\nTip cover whole rent (Huh)\nI can't give a ho a kiss (Kiss, what?)\nLittle bitch suck dick (Dick, yeah)\nI ain't fuck all the tricks (Tricks)\nDiamonds on me, walkin' lick (Lick)\nBoy, stole my style, that mean he my child, wait\nLike my bitch so hot, no mild\nThat bitch crack, tell that nigga pipe down\nOh, boy your pockets frail (Huh)\nYou better weigh your scale (Weigh your scale)\nHead first, they take it for real (Huh)\nBut boy, the hate is real, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)\nHalf of my diamonds white (Ooh)\nHalf of my diamonds teal (Blue)\nI said half of your diamonds fake (What?)\nHalf of your diamonds real (Huh?)\nI don't know what to say (I don't know what to say)\nI don't know how to feel (I don't know how to feel)\nI'm gonna keep gettin' cake (Sheesh)\nI'ma count up them mil's (Lil Uzi)\nPut it all in my safe\nYou might also like\nPourin' up the zips\nShorty wanna get a kiss\nShorty wanna get licked, uh\nRidin' in a foreign, uh\nOverseas tourin', uh (Ayy)\nPrada on me, nigga, uh (Ayy)\nNo Ralph Lauren, uh (Ring)\nPull up in this bitch, uh (Ayy)\n\nOdyssey rollin', hennessy smokin', niggas be jokin'\nNigga reloaded, pop in the cartridge, put it in motion\nYoung and devoted, true to the bank, I'm gettin' these tokens\n(Rick James) Woman just know this, frontin' on a bitch still hopin' out rollin' (Gang)\n\nUsed to be a little nigga you used to laugh at (Uh)\nGot your bitch under construction 'cause her ass flat (For real, for real)\nI just fucked all of her friends and then I dab, dab (For real, for real)\nThrew so much money last night she had a rack attack (Racks)\nBitch, I'm Guwop'd down with a bag to match (Yeah)\nGet that boy walked down, got more cash to flash (Bitch)\nGot my middle finger up for my exes (For my old hoes)\nI just fucked her momma, scratched her off the check list (Fucked her momma though)\nThey tried to hit me up in traffic but you ain't check this (Brr, what?)\nFor that talkin' on my sisters, that's your neck bitch (Ten deep, nigga, bitch ass)\nThis a Maybach Benz, ain't no Lex, bitch (Skrrt)\nBillion dollar baby, spend that money reckless (I'm ten deep lil' nigga)"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsSkool Bus (Skit) Lyrics\nWhat up my brothers and sisters?\nHow y'all feelin'?\nThem chancletas you got on?\nYo ass got on some mothafuckin' mosquito stompers\nThem bitches bogus as hell, on my momma boy\nYo ass tried to stop a motorcycle with them chancletas on\nThey skinned yo big toe off, on my momma\nLost a toe nail, rest in peace to that toe nail, on my momma\nLook like you chewin' your neck on your shirt\nYo barber shoes\nWho said that?\nMe, nigga\nI'ma bake yo big ass\nYou think you hot, too\nTook your ass three months to fuck a fat BBW midget, on my momma\nYou tricked off and everything\nYou took that bitch to Spain for twenty-four hours and back\nAnd fingered her ass\nYou thought you was the man\nYou ain't hit the pussy, just fingered it\nHit the finger with the thumb, on my momma yo\n\"I got a kiss, though!\"\nDirty ahh (ass)\nWet big toe head ass, boy, on my momma\nNigga all your teeth different lengths though, nigga\nSunday school legends\nAll your teeth fightin' inside your mouth, nigga\nYour ass got some John Legend\nLook like a piano inside that motherfucker tho, G\nThat's basic, cuz\nCome on, man\nI can buy some new teeth though, you can't buy swag, my brother\nYour ass had an interview, you had to sell a bag of weed, and you got into it with your bitch all in one day with that fit on\nThree times, your ass got a three-way combo fit on\nHow you a gangsta up top, interviewer at the bottom, I'll Crip-walk against you on the shoes\nGet your dumbass out here\nYour ass, \"Straight outta Compton, crazy motherfucker named Gusto\"\nCoat ass, boy\nHell nah!\nYou don't get no cooch, your ass be beatin' off to midget sex\nOn xvideos.com searchin', \"Hottest midget\", on my mama\nThe difference is, nigga, I'm graduatin', your ass still gonna be on this bus talkin' shit about niggas next year\nSo what? I'll still be here then, fuck it\nI'll graduate one day, goddamn it\nI'm cozier than a mothafucka in this school! I ain't goin' nowhere\nOn babyYou might also like"}
{"text":"20 ContributorsMotivation Foreign (Skit) Lyrics\nListen here, Sheron\nMm-hmm\nNow a nigga done showed you everything\nYou know what I'm saying?\nJust in the spot with my partners, you feel me?\nYeah\nSo I'm thinking about taking this shit to the next level\nI'm thinking about\u2014\nKnow what I'm saying?\nA whole 'nother country with you, baby\nKnow what I'm saying?\nYeah, I know\nThinking about taking your ass to London\nI gotta pull up in the foreign in a foreign country\nKnow what I'm saying?\nAnd you the perfect one for that\nYou know what I'm saying?\nNo, no, no, no, no\nWhat?\nYou acting like you ain't feeling what I'm saying though right now\nYou know what I'm saying?\nYou gotta see the vision\nYou know what I'm saying?\nNo, I've\u2014\nYou know with Flacko out there\nYou know what I'm saying?\nThem niggas living like Jimi Hendrix and shit\nMotherfuckers getting in all types of shit out there\nYou know what I'm saying?\nYeah, whatever, sure\nSo we gon' pull up\nI'll pull up with you\nYou showing what you working with\nNo\nMake me look a little bit better\nYou know what I'm saying?\nAnd I'll buy you a couple of little things\nYou know, lil' shopping and shit\nSpend a little check\nYou know what I'm saying?\nWhat sorts of things will you buy?\nPay attention when I'm tryna tell you now\nKnow what I'm saying?\nI just showed you everybody who's in the spot\nEverybody you know\nOh, yeah, I like that\nYou fuckin' seen Diddy\nYou seen everybody\nYou know what I'm saying?\nThey fuck with me, I fuck with you\nWhat you wanna do?\nI've never been to Europe\nPack your shit\nMatter of fact, don't pack nothing, baby\nMaybe\nI'll get you whatever you need\nKnow what I'm saying?\nI'll spend this last little ten racks I got\nOh, yeah, I like that\nYou know what I'm saying?\nOk, well\nJust so we can look good and just, you know\nWhat you wanna do?\nYou acting like you're nervous\nYeah, I mean, I've got work and other stuff\nWork?\nWork?\nYeah\nFuck you mean \"work\"?\nWork\nYou need to work that skirt\nYeah, yeah, you've gotta work with that\nThat's what you need to do\nMm, I don't know\nLike, what would\u2014\nWhat would happen if I\u2014\nLike, when we got there, what am I gonna do?\nFuck!\nWhat you think?\nYou\u2014\nShit, I ain't gon' fly you all the way out there like that\nI didn't know it was like that\nI'ma show you the homies and shit, you gon' fuck!\nShit!\nNo, I didn't know it was like that\nAt least fuck me\nDon't fuck them, fuck me\nLike, why I gotta keep reiterating?\nI don't like saying my shit more than two times\nSo, look\nWhat I'ma do is I'ma hit my flight connection\nShe got the booking passes\nYeah\nAlright\nYou know what I'm saying?\nI don't, I need\u2014\nAs long as you got your passport\nYou got to America so you can sure as hell get to London\nYou know what I'm saying?You might also like"}
{"text":"45 ContributorsUnderground Killa$ Lyrics\nLet's get a little... little drawing going on, yeah, that's what it is man\nWord up, A$AP Rocky, what up, my nigga? Young King right there\nYeah, I see you, nigga, it's your big brother, Chef, right here, man\nRaekwon, nigga, you know, we got you all day, nigga\nI know you got your big brother all day, too, you know, it's all real\n\nAt the dice game, on sleeze mode, gun in the road\nBut count hundreds, sit back my home on my stomach\nWho the king boo, eating grapes, send me to 50 states\nI pump everywhere I go, I thump plenty spaces\nEither I\u2019m in the slums, counting up ones\nShaking down fiends, hopping to the most and one\nBesides bagging up, new ratchets\nAlways in hatchets, nigga, the fly bachelor with all those classics\nMy gun is red eyeball brown, run the town\nBlack hoodie sweats, no jewels a coupe with some specs\nMatching in the million dollar mansion with brans\nAnd it\u2019s always love, love, just bring your advancing\nBottles from everywhere, hoes run up\nNiggas in tennis wear, I\u2019m finish the menace, get 'em, yeah\nYo, we in the cut\u2026 dogs on them\nStay cocky, peace is real, yo, Rocky!\n\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nYou might also like\nMy uncle Snoop told me keep the biscuit on me\nSaid they got the scoop on me and they listen on me\nPlus my bougie-ass neighbors, keep the bitching on me\nAnd the nosy bitch next door call the district on me\nAnd they snitching on me, self-esteem went missing on me\nChip off my shoulder, you can get it off me\nBut these bitches on me, the other *censored* got a prison story\nThat Mr. Greedy's, just a missing story\nListen wardy, I was on them bitches, pitching sipping, 40's\nMauri kicks and Norreys bitches, all these shorties kissing shorties\nKeep division, brody, cold world, keep your mittens wordy\nGo hard but you kill 'em softly\nPay attention, shorty, wonder why I call your bitch a shorty?\nIt's the way of the world, don't be trippin', shorty\nJust get your pickin', shorty, hold your own, keep it pimping, brody\nSame shit, just a different story\n\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York in my hood we blow up houses\nGrenades look like quarter waters sitting on the counter\nSilence all you will encounter if you talkin' 'bout you 'bout it\nThugging noise heating salad, gripping the banger give me callus (Alright!)\nLike Pops from the Wayans when I fire\nSwitching lanes in the Porsche, gotta catch up to my tires\nGot cannons like Mariah, goddamn it my Messiah\nHe done ran into some violence, put him to rest in his pajamas\nTwin clips, Pusha T, that\u2019s for talkin' all that malice\nIn your bitch, I'm a sneaker, she gon' need some new balance\nGot Franklins like Aretha, see my money that be pilin'\nAnd my shiny gold teeth, you can see my money smilin'\n\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga\nKing of New York with these underground killas\nRide, ride, nigga, fuck the niggas, nigga"}
{"text":"19 ContributorsSelector Freestyle Lyrics\nYo, A$AP here\nWe 'bout to kill a fucking game\nYou know who the fuck we are\nYou know my motherfucking name\nI fucked your dame\nAnd she bought me a chain\nAnd a Range\nAnd a pinky ring, that blinga, bling\nAnd all my niggas here, they about to kill this shit\nWhatchu  say Nast?\n\nYo\nI say hold up dawg\nNast in this bitch again sipping Hen\nStaring at that white girl from michigan\nShe was with her friends, fat ass fly ho\nI went in for the kill ASAP, pronto\nSaid wait boo, 'fore we hit ya condo\nI got another friend wit me named Whitney from Chicago\nWhitney love to model, I'm thinking Menage flow\nThe truck parked up front, the chevvy get Tahoe\nHaters all in my face, can't see blindfold\nDons on my feet, blue-ripe bye folks\nNuttin on sucker niggas is what I was designed for\nDead fresh fresh 2 death, I shouldda' designed clothes\nBut I'm blessing these tracks, sick flow, swine flu\nYa'll ain't fucking with Nast I been nice, ya'll know\nHaha, nigga that shit times two\nI'm who ya bitches wanna kick it with, Kung Fu\nWell what dawg what is you saying\nNast in this bitch, ho why's you playing\nLike I won't slay this, stage, on some cage shit\nTurn into a mayhem, beat tough, flow hurting\nCali Swag bitch snapback no jerking\nFlows perfect, money in hands, hoes know this\nFast forward, past focus, I'm that on it\nOne of the best to do it, think not, bet on it\nGiant Nast you be lumberjack paul bunyan\nHoes love it, never put none above it\nWanna hug me tightter than jeans ass sportin'\nCarry coffin to cemeteries that very often\nSports fortune, matchboxes, its that awesome\nYou might also like[Spaceghostpurrp Extra verse}\u200b\nIt's the motherfucking phonk\nFuck wit me, I'll leave the AK out the trunk\nUnderstand what's going on in the place to be\nNigga S.G.P, understand its the real\nWhen I keep it real, come thru With\nThe motherfucking steel\nStill, I speak how I feel every time\nAnd when I do, I kick a phonk-y ass rhyme\nIf your fucking around with my brothas\nI'll put the slug to your mother\nMotherfucker you a sucka\nBitch ass nigga\nI dont fuck withca\n\nSo what I say, motherfucker\nAlready know i've never beena sucker\nSee I lust ya, I want ya, bavby come home baby girl\nWhats your name Wonda do you wanna be up on me\nDo you wanna bend over, do you feel horny\nDo you wanna feel a stroke, it's kinnda like Facebook\nWhen you feel a poke\nA$AP no joke Raider Klan all back and we aiming at ya throat\n\nI wanna rock, but the bitches want me tho\nD&G briefs, fit a nigga like speedo\nSkinny nudie jeans tho, boots be 40 below\nHe flow a huunnid degrees the jelws zero\nRockstar Rock, he reps guitar hero\nLeopard Louboutins like speedos on Stev-O\nCharge it to the game couldn't pause me on Tivo\nBeyonce to Kanye I got a big ego\nOn to that next shit, you looking at the bestest\nMarried to the game treat you niggas like my stepkids\nPull up in Porsche, niggas getting nausia\nDidn't write the rules but my status like an author\nJust crashed the Range, so I pulled the Bent out\nProbably getting brains, chilling in the Penthouse\nSlaging on you maggin, and I'm bout to lay my pimp down\nChristian Louboutin red bottoms come in mens now\nOn to the next one, skinny jeans fit in\nPull up to these shows, and the hoes know to get in\nSaid they like my fitted clothes down to my split ends\nLittle do she know i got a big ego\nAutomatic weapon, need to order a protection\nKilling feelings, on these records\nSo my charges is molesting and assault with deadly weapon got these rappers feeling threatened\nA hip-hop veteran\nI'm a hip-hop felon\nIt's a war going on outside and we started it\nBelive that or die nigga on some martry shit\nAll my niggas on the scene like some Sparta shit\nAnd we came to double up on that Harlem shit\nWe all eating, this is how it supposed to go\nStop speaking, this is how you 'posed to flow\nThe ins-and-out of a winners route\nI never lose again, its like evryday i lose a friend\nTo some dumb shit, for a dumb bitch\nSo a hating nigga for a cuff wrist\nI know a lot of niggas sitting in a cell now\nFor the shit i've done I'm prolly even hell-bound\nBut it's cool with me, jacking niggas jewlry\nI don't give a fuck about your foolery\nNigga keep a tool with me, Just to blast atcha bitches\nLong as I'm at the top, and our rags to the riches\nA$AP nigga\n\nOn my Pokemon shit, you already know\nI said, I said\nI swear to God I want it all\nHe gon give it to me, Becky gettin top above it all\nShe give it to me in a Jet, purple lable sweats\nI swear to God I'm rich\nAnd once I swearve these many bitches\nSwear to God I'm in\nI be on my fucking shit, tell em what that God sipin bout\nToast to god, tell me what god sippin now, Henny\nAnd I'm round here now my dad was on some shit\nSo i put a hole bottle when that bitch with the mink\nI got hard\nI'm sorry mamma Ferg, for all of the curse words\nBut I'm so fucking serious\nSend 'em street like the curb\nAnd I tweak like a nerve\nAnd I'm smart like a nerd\nGuess thats why my last name Ferg (Yuh heard)\nOk, I'm glide then a fucking bird\nYeah i am the shit my name is Ferg\nBut I'm a fucking turd you heard\nSo you'll see now I'm on some Rider shit\nYou done got yourself in beef, now you on some Gaga shit\nRed line on some Prada shit\nNow you wanna know a dealine on some project shit\nBlack bitch an actor, put em in some Tyler shit\nPerry young berry, die hair then this Robbin bitch\nThis ain't no bullshit, I be letting off full clips\nSee my bitch ride that big thang, you on that little shit\nTrying to make noise, you squeaking like a little pit\nPut her into that dawg my attitudes a little Vick\n\nUhhh, Thats how my niggas fall back\nA$AP Raider Klan and we all blacked out\nTell that bitch get it mapped out\nAnd I fucked a bitch, now she flat out\nChest out, on the fucking floor never hit it raw\nGot a condoment, got a towel by the door\nJust in case the smoke go in to the hallway\nCause I be smoking weed and fucking all day\nThis is off the top of the dome, let me introduce my niggas\nBefore a nigga go home\nWe got TY Beats, the illest producer in these streets\nSo you know we coming through with that Motherfuckign heat\nGot Twelvy, motherfucker twelvy, got a bad bitch Jewish named Shelby\nGot my nigga Nast in the back, got a snapback\nTo the back he don't know how to act\nGot my nigga named Purrp, Spaceghostpurrp, do ya bitch real dirt That's dirty, little flirty, fucked a bitch named Purdy, did her dirty\nGot my nigga named Ferg, what's the word\nAnd you know he fucking know these verbs, give them to the curb\nGot nerve in the bitch, got swerve\nBetter get mine nigga, bitches got nerve\nWait your turn\nASAP Rocky\nPeace out and kiss my ass\nASAP Ferg\nYeah you can kiss my ass too\nA$AP Nast\nSuck a nigga nigga somn\n\nA$AP Twelvy\nKiss my AYYYY$AAP Nigguh"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsPrincipal Daryl Choad (Skit) Lyrics\n(Ohhh!)\nGood morning Yamborghini High students, faculty, and staff\nWelcome back returning students and welcome new students\nThis is Principal Daryl Choad and these are the announcements for today, our first school day of the new year\nJust a reminder to students with drama on their minds, auditions for the school play \"Bad and Boujee\" are being held after school today\nIf you do not wish to be left off \"Bad and Boujee\", please report to the gym at 2:30\nAs a reminder, Milly Rock is not allowed anywhere on campus Lockers and socks will be inspected\nHave a great day, and dare to be the best you can be\nHead directly to your next class now at the sound of the bell, pleaseYou might also like"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsLast Day of Skool (Skit) Lyrics\nGood afternoon Yamborghini High students, this is Principal Daryl Choad, on this, our last day of classes\nSome final announcements now as we wrap up our school year This year's perfect attendance award goes to Lil Yachty for having no tardies all year\nCongratulations, Mr. Boat, you're adults now, shit is real out here Love each other, lift each other up\nI'm just fucking with you, do whatever you want, but you can't change this fucked up world if you're dead\nSo, stay alive if you can, please, congratulations to all of you who may be moving on to other endeavors, including the following students who will be participating in a full summer school schedule: A$AP Rocky, A$AP Ferg, A$AP Twelvyy, A$AP Nast, A$AP Ant, A$AP Tyy, ScHoolboy Q, Big Sean, Frank Ocean, Quavo, Lil Uzi, Flatbush Zombies, Pro Era, Gucci Mane, Fat Man Key, Smooky MarGielaa, Playboi Carti, and Chief Keef\nThat concludes our academic year at Yamborghini High\nThis has been your principal Daryl Choad\nHave a great life and stay cozy, we out\n\nA-fuckin'-SAPYou might also likeEmbed"}
{"text":"12 ContributorsA$AP Mob - Freestyle on Flex Part 2 Lyrics\nI'm only one of the hottest that spated\nCuz' I walked the lonely mile with satan\nSmokin a bag of what the fuck you sayin\nNasty baby bitch, don't get me confused, I never could lose and never will\nAside from any guy, I slay with swords my dead lords are so so many guys\nI make you cry, angry bullets from my fucking semi fly\nYou disrespect the set I'm mobbin' with, who you mobbin' with?\nYou crying bitch, I'm bout my motherfuckin' job and shit\nAlways striving prosper come trough when we mobbin' in\nWho that, that's nasty baby\nIn a old school rental, niggas can't get it\nNasty baby, shout out to trap lord rental\nWe in the building niggas renting it\nNasty baby bout end this shit\n\nI spit that murder, murder, murderous shit\nThat vocal venom, dopest rhythm you could probably hit the curb with this shit\nThere ain't no money in the hood, they hit bird the shit\nAnd cut the middleman out, he ain't deservin' his split\nAnd get the cream with the people, divide the shit equal\nFuck the evils, we gon' stack this paper for our sequel\nThat's a goal, drop a quick gem for the people\nI'm a star, spittin' hot lava man I lethal\nLike Madonna, niggas on us, triggas on us\nHit the corners, they swarm us, they didn't warn us\nWale, they coming through with the with the war its\nHop out of the Porsche and head to the fortress\nOver the the west side, Harlem let them techs fly\nCan't believe a nigga used to work up in that best buy\nNow a nigga top 5, nothing like Michelin\nAlways in that crown hot, something like \nAnd I get the crowd live, and I bring the bitches in\n, \nA$AP Worldwide, young niggas gettin' it\nHittin this, spittin this \nYou might also like\nHold on, drive slow\nMask on, gun low\nBalla on the court dishin' out like Rondo\nGot everything you need, weed or the cocaine\nIf a nigga bleed leave him dead like Cobain\nFive pugs looking like a bunch of fuckin' lo mein\nBrain on drugs, hand on snubs on my way to the drugs\nAndrew Jackson\nMoney confession got your bitch undressing, givin out lessons\nAnybody can get it\nFuck niggas that frontin cause I've done did it\nGot good aim so I shoot on my pivot\nBring it to yo' momma crib dirty chop the kitchen\nTrap house boomin, we still pitchin\nAll blue 7 you would thought I was crippin\nAll gold cross turned my friend to a christian\nHope I dont die before I turn 21\nNot tryna die from the barrel of the gun\nI'mma keep rhymin, I'mma go diamond, thug in this industry\nThis is where the win is me, get yourself on yo feet\nIf you fuckin feelin' me\n\nWho shot the sheriff, I said me bitch\nScreamin out who runnin who runnin like we was 3-6\nA$AP be the mafia, who stoppin us\nMotherfuckers can't do the job for us\nSo I murder nigga leave em red up on the corner\nFlacko told me put 'em on 'em\nSo I'm buzzing like a hornets nest\nToo cold for these bitch I'm boning\nNasty baby, spittin off the top too\nI'm over the block too\nWho want it I got two\nI put shots in you\nAnd whoever come through my block too\nOr ya top too, even with ya chip tooth\nYa rock too and you know, I got you\nFuck it, listen, listen\nLook, ugh, yeah\nA$AP Worldwide nigga\nYou know how that shit go down\nAyo' flex, I told you\nI got you, my nigga\nI told you, I got you\nLook, yeah, yeah\n\nFeeling like a vigilante or a visionary\nBack when cemeteries, Death\nOr thoughts of prison couldn't scare me\nShoot at Military\nDon't believe me doggie\nTriple dare me, check your dictionary\nFind me under none, fictionary\nLife's a game of pictionary\nSitting on that train\nFancy guads and master keys\nWhip 'em like a scape\nHarlem east side get that cake\nWest side get that bread\nGot a murder mob on way\nMy BX nigga, techs nigga\nYoung niggas, dumb niggas\nShoot before they think\nGet tipped off, get clipped off\nThen living in the clink\nGet washed up then rinsed off\nYoung pup with the big dog\nYoung Buck wearing big draws\nPiss poor to the crystal\nJump jump like Criss Cross\nCrossed off like Chris Paul\nBig guns call 'em Rick Ross\nBroke home, make my dick soft\nLick balls then dick pause\nI spit raw, make them shit jaw\nI ain't even mad so just imagine when I'm pissed off\nIn a dark room in Harlem\nThinking bout shots\nAnd how it barely grazed me\nAnd it coulda hit Rock\nAnd a couple of other niggas\nBut they all roll on my block\nMachiavelli from Harlem\nHow you wanna be Pac\nWanna be a jiggy nigga\nFrom the East coast right\nThe beast coast right\nI know you feelin the feet close right\nYou know I can see it in ya face\nYour teeth all tight\nWell Flex got beats\nWe can beef all night\nSchoolboy you better School ya boy\nHit you wit the ruler boy\nI'm the new 50 cent I will fucking Ja rule ya boy\nChillin to Shabba Ranks\nFo're I hit you with the tooler boy\nHit em with the chopsticks\nAnd fucking Tai fool ya boy\nI don't sell rocks\nNigga I smoke em\nBobby selling crack and thats no joking\nThe beat had me laced\nI started West coast-in\nShit was too potent\nAnd now I'm ready to poke somethin'\nRock you wanna know sumn?\nSherane got good brain\nA couple Harlem niggas\nSaid that bitch up in the chicken wing\nYou top dog I heard you in a lick of things\nA Hollywood bully where you\n"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsStay Schemin\u2019 Freestyle Lyrics\nA$AP is the trillest, dawg\nA$AP is the trillest\nA$AP is the trillest, dawg\nA$AP is the trillest\nWorldwide, global enterprises\nGlobal enterprises, kill 'em\n\nUh, kill 'em, other niggas don't feel 'em\nTreat 'em like a banana, banana clips and peel 'em\nHigher then the ceilin', nigga we be wildin' and we willin'\nEvacuate the buildin' for the children\nThe children, gettin' all the chitlins\nI get get, my slip ons, I slipped in\nYour bitch, I done been hit\nThis is off the top and yous a dimwit\nBitches say I'm cocky wit' a limp dick\nI don't really give a fuck you's a pipsqueak\nPipsqueak niggas know my shit sweet, fuck that\nI don't even skip class, fuck that, I get passed\nAll my niggas get fly with they- ah\nAnd we fuckin' rappin' off the tone\nThey don't know how we do we rappin' off the dome\n\nYo, block hugger, clock puncher\nOn the DL I had 30 side hustles\nFreestylin', cunk as a bitch\nMatter of fact drunk as a bitch, matter of fact dunk in ya bitch\nOn my blake shit, aww shit you on some safe shit\nNah I'm on some crazy 8 shit, Like Adidas\nJeremoty scott, I don't rock 'em but Rock do\nAww man, y'all niggas is 5'2\", my niggas is 6'10\"\nMy niggas is 6 wins, zero losses\nAll bosses, all horses\nDouble R L, 2-12 now\n12 gauge shotgun, that'll send you to hell\nYou might also like\nBody 'em wit' tha shotty\nNiggas talkin' shit I'ma shoot him in his body\nRollin' in the whip, wit' the new bitch\nAlexander Wayne, I got that new bitch\nAnd a new benzo, sittin' on Lorenzo\nI pop it like a pimple, that bitch want, that bitch ho\nThat bitch want, that bench ho\nAnd I get dough, and I get get, lick lick\nMy bitch and she know that I just flow, I get the dough in that clip\nI know how to get it I do it, rollin' around in that Buick\nNiggas know that's stupid, gettin' money I scoop it\nA$AP went black, to the nigga all that\nRat-a-tat that ass, if you talk shit get the cash\nGet yo ass smacked when I'm talkin' shit, niggas know I'm too legit\nHammer pants, I'm Too Legit 2 Quit, when I grip that hammer blit\n\nYo fuck it, I'm like fuck it\nThese niggas don't really want it wit' him\nI'm just chillin' up in my zone like I got it\nThis shit is all for the profit\nA$AP, we comin' through and we mobbin'\nWe killin' shit with no problem"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsHella Hoes (Remix) Lyrics\nHoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought that chopper and that pistol with the scope\n\nHoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got\n\nI got a start in these streets, extra hard for these hoes\nWe move hard in these streets, young God, X'in' them O's\nI'm like God in these streets, got a tech in my coat\nI go hard in these streets, Johnny Depp with the blow\nI flip nickels and O's, I flip powder in bass\nI done shoveled the snow, I done showered the state\nSee them flowers gone grow and the power gon' raise\nAnd we came through the door, here we got us a race\n\nAll these diamonds in my teeth\nI'm gone off a gallon of Hennessy\nBetter let your bitch go cause she's feelin' me\nAnd besides she a ho, she fucked him and me\nAnd I gave her the beast like I'm Timothy\nMoonwalk in that pussy like Billie Jean\nAnd I open your chest like you Janet Jackson\nAnd I blam-blam like you Timberlake\nI put him in a lake and I penetrate\nLet it sit in your face like a dinner date\nThen bust open your grill, let it ventilate\nAnd my niggas is killers, what can I say?\nWith a crew of gorillas like 50 Cent\nAnd they peelin' bananas, no dinner plate\nAnd I'm only gone ride with my syndicate\nA$AP 'til I die, nigga, period\nYou might also like\nHoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got\n\nUh, pretty mothafucka, pull up in this bitch like\nUh, jiggy mothafucka, hella hoes on my dick like\nUh, really with the shit, if a nigga trip, loadin' up the clip\nNever slip, tight, never sleep, finna let it rip in this bitch like\nPistols poppin', pussies droppin'\nNiggas coppin', bottles poppin'\nRoxies choppin', Oxycontin, word to A$AP Lotto\nLive down Collins mobbin' slow\nSyrup got me throwed, mouth is full of gold\nIf I overdose, just let 'em know\nAlright, I got hella hoes\n\nIn the function you a soldier\nGot that clap clap like the 'Nolia\nWhen them 'cets fly off the corner\nLil' homie out the window, you's a goner\nWhen I blow, the gangstas get at me\nWest side bussin' if they come at me\nTakin' all things and givin' no presents\nFuck rappin', word up and you see how shit happens\nDrop a deuce, watch you lean low\nGot some cholos with the beams on\nGot some crip niggas, need this thing gone\nBut I woo mine, but I knew that\nI'm Shawn Michaels with the weapon drawn\nSteady swing 'til your neck is gone\nWatch your mouth and the toes that you're steppin' on\nThis young brick flip Chapo\nRarin', cutthroat gang, them choppers flarin', nigga\nScary, nigga, bury Swisher\nCause I'm just like fairy sister\nFlip it like the  of \nIt's the Mr. Black, I'll hit you niggas, bury niggas\nYou ain't fuckin' with me like Mary, nigga\nYour uncle, cousin, brother, best friend carry you, nigga\nSince I'm like Uncle Phil in the pool hall\nEight ball in a tube sock, new yacht\nThink I had the Glock, got me like a screw shawk\nSaw me shut it down if they think we too soft\nBall like Chris Paul, Paul George shot\nPlayin' with afford that grow in my car\nBall like whippin' up work on the south\nSpeakin' of Os, know my nigga got hoes\nOs, I got hoes\n\nHoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, I got hella hoes\nI got hoes, and I'm sellin' dope\nAnd I just bought a chopper, let that pussy nigga know\nI got"}
{"text":"12 ContributorsWhat What Lyrics\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nFuck you mean, what?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nBitch, is you deaf?\nHuh\n\nHell yeah my teeth glistenin'\u2005(Glistenin')\nHell\u2005yeah when I\u2005went to school, I was missin'\u2005(Missin')\nHell yeah I skipped prison\nHell yeah I still don't listen, listen (Listen)\nI'm the nigga out here, gettin' fresh like it's Christmas, listen\nI'm the nigga out here, and I got the homies twitchin', listen\nWatch how I ride in the Benzes, switchin'\nLanes on these niggas, like Big-gie, Listen\nI don't give a fuck, get the motherfuck, and we smoke nigga like the incent, uh\n\nIn your bitch DMs like \"What?\" (What? What?)\nShe say I'm too much like \"What?\" (What? What? Yup)\nTracy McGrady in the cuts (What? What?)\nSpend the money, no Scrooge or McDuck (What? What? Yup)\nNiggas don't really do what we doin' (What? What?)\nYou got it, when you seen us with it (What? What?)\nNeed a check, Playboi on them bitches (What? What? Yup)\nYou know it's  the full seat tickets (What? What?)\nYou might also like\nWhat? What?\nPalace Reeboks on my socks, what? What? What?\nAll of these bitches gon' jock, what?\n\n in the cut (Cut)\nPrezzi rollin' up, addy pourin' up (Pourin' up)\nFlacko Jodye, what? (What?)\nNever gave a fuck, Playboy take it up\nPull up in designer, smokin' marijuana, count a thousand dollars\nI'm a money-counter, drugs from over counters, I don't fuck with cows\nAll my niggas with me\nAll my bitches pretty, all my bitches jiggy\nYeah, I run the city, yeah\nCount a hundred fifty, pyshco bitches to the, yeah\nI'm in Magic City\nDo the Famous Dex, countin' up a check, yeah\nVVS baguettes\nHoppin' off a jet, A$AP we the best, yeah\n\nYeah\nTurn me up, turn my vocals up\nYeah, what?\nYeah (That's right)\nThey finna call me Fergy, know the deal\nMy pockets hunchback, swollen man\nI fuck a yellow rat like Pikachu (Yeah)\nI'm finna catch 'em all like Pok\u00e9mon (Pok\u00e9mon)\nWalk up in the club, they notice me (Yeah)\nStack so big, I cannot fold or burn (Alright)\nThey wonder how I got these hoes on me (Yeah)\nI look like it's from the Motherland\nRest in peace to the big homie Yams\nMake karate with the frozen hands\nOn a PJ and it flown to Cannes\nBig wheels and Versace, like kilograms (What?)\n'Member we the killa man\nPushin' SLS like a drug dealer man\n'Cause I'm about my skrilla man\nUnderneath the traphouse like a \n\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?\nWhat? What?Embed"}
{"text":"10 ContributorsRAF (Video Version) Lyrics\n(Dun D-D-D-Deal, hey)\n\nI done came up (Yeah)\nBustin' down a whole bag (Bag)\nBroke nigga, step back (What?)\nWhy don't you peep a nigga's swag? (Yeah)\nYou ain't even gotta ask (What?)\nWhat are those? What is that? (Yeah)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (Please don't touch my Raf)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (What?)\n\nI'm racked up like rappers (Uh)\nI'm Raf-d up on camera (That's Rick)\nGet knocked out on camera (All this Rick)\nSqueeze pump like asthma (Yeah, what?)\nIt's rare Raf when I wear Raf (Uh)\nBare Raf when I wear Raf (Rick)\nMight invest into some Raf shares (All this Rick)\nLil' niggas still share Raf (What?)\nYeah and I'm drippin' on racks (Uh)\nRick Owens be the tag (Rick)\nDo the digital dash (All this Rick)\nYeah, I'm boastin', never brag (Yeah)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (What?)\nBought a Kris Van Assche (Yeah)\nAlessandro Gucci glasses (Yeah)\nJ.W. Anderson collab (Uh)\nYeah, she pop it like a MAC (What?)\nYeah, she drop it on the bag (Uh)\nI'ma buy another bag (Bag up)\n'Cause she always bring it back (Uh)\nYeah, you know how to make it last (Yeah)\nPlus a nigga keepin' tabs (Uh)\nI'ma fly first class (Uh)\nQuavo hit 'em with the dab (Yeah)\nYou might also like\nPlease don't touch my Raf (Raf)\nHo, don't step on my Raf Simons (Yeah, Raf)\nHo, don't step on my Raf Simons (Uh, Raf)\nHo, don't step on my Raf Simons (Woo)\nDo you know how much I'm spendin'? (Huh, ooh)\nMy closet, it worth 'bout a milli' (Milli', yeah, yeah)\nTook the lil' bitch to the runway (Yeah, uh)\nNow she naked in the kitchen (Uh)\n\nRaf Simons (Ayy)\nAll kind of crazy colors (Ayy, ayy)\nLivin' color (Colors)\nLeft wrist, Rollie butter (Ice)\nMaison Margiela my sweater (Margiela)\nMama told me never settle (Mama)\nRaf Simons, don't lace 'em (It's Raf)\nGot your bitch, wanna date him (Uh)\n(Dun D-D-D-Deal, hey)\n\nI done came up (Yeah, ooh)\nBustin' down a whole bag (Bag)\nBroke nigga, step back (What?)\nWhy don't you peep a nigga's swag? (Yeah)\nYou ain't even gotta ask (What?)\nWhat are those? What is that? (Yeah)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (Please don't touch my Raf)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (Woah)\nPlease don't touch my Raf (Raf)\nHo, don't step on my Raf Simons (Yeah, Raf)\nHo, don't step on my Raf Simons (Uh, Raf)\nHo, don't step on my Raf Simons (Woo)\nDo you know how much I'm spendin'? (Huh, ooh)\nMy closet, it worth 'bout a milli' (Milli', yeah, yeah)\nTook the lil' bitch to the runway (Yeah, uh)\nNow she naked in the kitchen (What?)Embed"}
{"text":"9 ContributorsHallelujah Lyrics\nWavy nigga from the bottom of the pulpit\nShining out bitches, kick it like a dookie\nJust came from the thugger, Ruckers hood shit\nLove me a model, but I keep me a hood bitch\nGot me on my bullshit\nTake a little sip, sip of that purple shit\nFinna let that clip rip, ultimate kill shit\nShould I do that? On my Urkel shit\nFlying off the roof, bitch\nFeeling like Cupid in that Drews movie\nHow I move useless with the Peggy Sue bih\nGet yo' ass put in a Q, blacked-out ruby\nBody get hot from them hollow tips\nStrapped lord, ruleless\u2014nigga, Hallelujah\nPut the two-two, yeah, semi or the Ruger\nBrick put them down in the grass, in the cooler\n\nI say Halle-\nI say Halle-\nI say Hallelujah\nI say Hallelujah\nI say Halle- (Hallelujah)\nI say Halle- (Hallelujah)\nI say Hallelujah (Hallelujah)\nI say Hallelujah (Hallelujah)\nYou might also like\nYeah\nGood God, god damn, Hallelujah\nLord, do you listen when you see me holler to ya?\nLame, I could tell you don't want a problem do ya\n'Cause I know a couple niggas that'll bring the problem to ya\nThey'll bring the choppa to ya, send a hollow through ya\nFuck a hospital, they'll bring the doctor to ya\nPurple in my cup, drive to school the Hallelujah\nThey did seen the Mr. Mean and I'm finna stock it to ya\nLike hee, hee, hee, howdy, all geeked up me now\nYou home lookin' me up, yo' chick tweetin' me now\nThey repeatin' me now, in the street pin me out\nIf you hated before, get a peep of me now\n'Cause Lord knows I ain't never fear no man, nah\n'Less it really was my old man\nI figured anything is better than a dopeman\nOr a broke man with both hands spread\nHallelu-\n\nI say Halle-\nI say Halle-\nI say Hallelujah\nI say Hallelujah\nI say Halle- (Hallelujah)\nI say Halle- (Hallelujah)\nI say Hallelujah (Hallelujah)\nI say Hallelujah (Hallelujah)\nThank you, Lord, uh\nThank you, Lord, woah\nThank you, Lord (Ooh)\nHallelujah\nHallelujah\nHallelujah\nHallelujahEmbed"}
{"text":"Shady\nKonvict, Upfront\nAkon, Slim Shady\nI see the one, could she be that lady? Ayy\n\nI feel you creepin', I can see it from my shadow\nWanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo?\nMaybe go to my place and just kick it like Tae Bo?\nAnd possibly bend you over?\n\nLook back and watch me smack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\n\nUpfront style, ready to attack now\nPull in the parking lot slow with the 'Lac down\nKonvict's got the whole thing packed now\nStep in the club, the wardrobe intact now\nI feel it, dawnin' cracked now\nOoh, I see it dull and backed now\nI'ma call her, then I put the mack down\nMoney no problem, pocket full of that now\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nI feel you creepin', I can see it from my shadow\nWanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo?\nMaybe go to my place and just kick it like Tae Bo?\nAnd possibly bend you over?\n\nLook back and watch me smack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\n\nOh, looks like another club banger\nThey better hang on when they throw this thang on\nGet a little drink on, they gon' flip\nFor this Akon shit, you can bank on it\nPedicure, manicure, kitty-cat claws\nThe way she climbs up and down them poles\nLookin' like one of them Putty-Cat Dolls\nTryin' to hold my woodie back through my drawers\nSteps off stage, didn't think I saw her\nCreeps up behind me, and she's like \"You're\u2014\"\nI'm like, \"I know, let's cut to the chase\nNo time to waste, back to my place\"\nPlus from the club to the crib's like a mile away\nOr more like a palace, shall I say\nAnd plus, I got a pal if your gal is game\nIn fact, he's the one singin' the song that's playin' (Akon!)\nI feel you creepin', I can see it from my shadow (My shadow)\nWanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo?\nMaybe go to my place and just kick it like Tae Bo? (Like Tae Bo?)\nAnd possibly bend you over? (Ooh, yeah)\n\nLook back and watch me smack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more (Yeah)\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh (Yeah, yeah)\n\nEminem's rollin', D and 'em rollin'\nBu and all marvelous, them rollin'\nWomen just ho-in', big booty rollin'\nSoon, I'll be all in them and throwin' D (D)\nHittin' no less than three (Three)\nBlock wheel style like whee (Whee)\nGirl, I can tell you want me, 'cause lately\n\nI feel you creepin', I can see it from my shadow (Yeah, my shadow)\nWanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo?\nMaybe go to my place and just kick it like Tae Bo? (Like Tae Bo?)\nAnd possibly bend you over? (Ooh, yeah)\nLook back and watch me smack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh"}
{"text":"86 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishLonely Lyrics\nLonely, I'm Mr. Lonely\nI have nobody for my own\nI'm so lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely\nI have nobody for my own\nI'm so lonely\n\nYo, this one here\nGoes out to all my players out there, man, you know\nThat got that one good girl, dawg, that's always been there, man\nLike, took all the bullshit\nBut then one day she can't take it no more and decides to leave\n\nYeah, I woke up in the middle of the night\nAnd I noticed my girl wasn't by my side\nCould've sworn I was dreamin' for her\nI was feenin' so I had to take a little ride\nBacktrackin' on these few years\nTryin' to figure out what I do to make it go bad\n'Cause ever since my girl left me\nMy whole life came crashin', and I'm so\n\nLonely (So lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (To call my own, girl)\nI'm so lonely (So lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (To call my own, girl)\nI'm so lonely\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nCan't believe I had a girl like you\nAnd I just let you walk right out of my life\nAfter all I put you through\nYou still stuck around and stayed by my side\nWhat really hurt me is I broke your heart\nBaby, you a good girl and I had no right\nI really wanna make things right\n'Cause without you in my life, girl, I'm so\nLonely (So lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (To call my own, girl)\nI'm so lonely (So lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (To call my own, baby)\nI'm so lonely\n\nBeen all about the world, ain't never met a girl\nThat could take the things that you been through\nNever thought the day would come\nWhere you would get up and run\nAnd I would be out chasin' you\n'Cause ain't nowhere in the globe I'd rather be\nAin't no one in the globe I'd rather see\nThan the girl of my dreams that made me be\nSo happy, but now so lonely\nLonely (So lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (To call my own, girl)\nI'm so lonely (So lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (To call my own, girl)\nI'm so lonely\n\nNever thought that I'd be alone\nI didn't think you'd be gone this long\nI just want you to call my phone\nSo stop playin', girl, and come on home\nBaby girl, I didn't mean to shout\nI want me and you to work it out\nI never wished that I would ever hurt my baby\nAnd it's drivin' me crazy, 'cause I'm so\n\nLonely (So lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (To call my own, girl)\nI'm so lonely (So lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (To call my own, girl)\nI'm so lonely\nSo lonely (Lonely), so lonely (So lonely)\nMr. Lonely (Lonely), so lonely (So lonely)\nSo lonely (Lonely), so lonely (So lonely)\nSo lonely, Mr. Lonely"}
{"text":"78 ContributorsSorry, Blame It On Me Lyrics\nAs life goes on\nI'm starting to learn more and more about responsibility\nAnd I realize that everything I do\nIs affecting the people around me\nSo I wanted to take this time out\nTo apologize for things that I've done\nAnd things that haven't occured yet\nAnd things that they don't want to take responsibility for\n\nI'm sorry for the times that I left you home\nI was on the road and you were alone\nI'm sorry for the times that I had to go\nI'm sorry for the fact that I did not know\nThat you were sitting home, just wishing we\nCould go back to when it was just you and me\nI'm sorry for the times I would neglect\nI'm sorry for the times I disrespect\nI'm sorry for the wrong things that I've done\nI'm sorry I'm not always there for my sons\nI'm sorry for the fact that I'm not aware\nThat you can't sleep at night when I am not there\nBecause I'm in the streets like every day\nI'm sorry for the things that I did not say\nLike how you are the best thing in my world\nAnd how I'm so proud to call you my girl\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nI understand that there's some problems and I'm not too blind to know\nAll the pain you kept inside you, even though you might not show\nIf I can't apologize for being wrong, then it's just a shame on me\nI'll be the reason for your pain and you can put the blame on me\nSaid you could put the blame on me\nSaid you could put the blame on me\nSaid you could put the blame on me\nYou could put the blame on me\n\nI'm sorry for the things that he put you through\nAnd all the times you didn't know what to do\nI'm sorry that you had to go and sell those bags\nJust tryin' to stay busy 'til you heard from Dad\nWhen you would rather be home with all your kids\nAs one big family with love and bliss\nAnd even though pops treated us like kings\nHe got a second wife and you didn't agree\nHe got up and left you there all alone\nI'm sorry that you had to do it on your own\nI'm sorry that I went and added to your grief\nI'm sorry that your son was once a thief\nI'm sorry that I grew up way too fast\nI wish I would've listened and not be so bad\nI'm sorry that your life turned out this way\nI'm sorry that the feds came and took me away\nI understand that there are some problems and I'm not too blind to know\nAll the pain you kept inside you, even though you might not show\nIf I can't apologize for being wrong, then it's just a shame on me\nI'll be the reason for your pain and you can put the blame on me\nSaid you could put the blame on me\nSaid you could put the blame on me (Oh yeah)\nSaid you could put the blame on me\nYou could put the blame on me\n\nI'm sorry that it took so long to see\nThat they were dead wrong tryna put it on me\nI'm sorry that it took so long to speak\nBut I was on tour with Gwen Stefani\nI'm sorry for the hand that she was dealt\nFor the embarrassment that she felt\nJust a little young girl tryin' to have fun\nHer daddy should've never let her out that young\nI'm sorry for Club Zen getting shut down\nI hope they manage better next time around\nHow was I to know she was underage?\nIn a 21-and-older club they say\nWhy doesn't anybody wanna take blame?\nVerizon backed out, disgracing my name\nI'm just a singer tryin' to entertain\nBecause I love my fans I'll take that blame\nEven though the blame's on you\nEven though the blame's on you\nEven though the blame's on you\nI'll take that blame from you\nAnd you can put that blame on me (On me)\nAnd you can put that blame on me\nYou can put that blame on me (Blame's on me)\nAnd you can put that blame on me (Blame's on me)\nAnd you can put that blame on me\nAnd you can put that blame on me"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsDon\u2019t Matter Lyrics\n(Konvict, Konvict, Konvict)\nOh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\nOh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\n\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\n'Cause we gon' fight, oh, yes, we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nBelieve we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nFight for our right to love, yeah (Right to love, yeah)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\n\nNobody wanna see us together\nNobody thought we'd last forever\nI feel I'm hopin' and prayin'\nThings between us gon' get better\nMen steady comin' after you\nWomen steady comin' after me\nSeems like everybody wanna go for self\nAnd don't wanna respect boundaries\nTellin' you all those lies\nJust to get on yo' side\nBut I must admit there was a couple secrets I held inside\nJust know that I try to always apologize\nBut I'ma have you first, always in my heart to keep you satisfied\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\n'Cause we gon' fight, oh, yes, we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nBelieve we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nFight for our right to love, yeah (Right to love, yeah)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\n\nGot every right to wanna leave\nGot every right to wanna go\nGot every right to hit the road\nAnd never talk to me no mo'\nYou don't even have to call\nEven check for me at all\n'Cause the way I've been actin' lately has been off the wall\nEspecially towards you, puttin' girls before you\nAnd they watchin' everything I been doin' just to hurt you\nMost of it just ain't true and they won't show you\nHow much of a queen you are to me and why I love you, baby\n\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\n'Cause we gon' fight, oh, yes, we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nBelieve we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nFight for our right to love, yeah (Right to love, yeah)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\nOh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\n'Cause I got you, babe\nOh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\n'Cause I got you, babe\n'Cause I got you, babe\n'Cause I got you, babe\n\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\n'Cause we gon' fight, oh, yes, we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nBelieve we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nFight for our right to love, yeah (Right to love, yeah)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\n\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\n'Cause we gon' fight, oh, yes, we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nBelieve we gon' fight (We gon' fight)\nFight for our right to love, yeah (Right to love, yeah)\nNobody wanna see us together, but it don't matter, no\n('Cause I got you, babe)\n(Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)\n'Cause I got you, babe\n(Oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh)"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsI Wanna Fuck You Lyrics\nKonvict (Konvict, konvict)\nKonvict, Music\nAnd you know we Upfront\n\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole\nI know you see me looking at you and you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know, girl\n\nMoney in the air as mo' fell, grab you by your coat tail\nTake you to the motel, ho sale, don't tell, won't tell\nBaby said I don't talk, Dogg, but she told on me, oh well\nTake a picture with me, what the flick gon' do?\nBaby, stick to me, and I'mma stick on you\nIf you pick me, then I'mma pick on you\nD-O-double G and I'm here to put this dick on you\nI'm stuck on pussy and yours is right\nRip ridinin' them poles and them doors is tight\nAnd I'mma get me a shot for the end of the night\n\u2018Cause pussy is pussy and, baby, your pussy for life\n\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole\nI know you see me looking at you and you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know, girl\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nShorty, I can see, you ain't lonely\nHandful of niggas and they all got cheese\nSo you lookin' at me now, what it's gonna be?\nJust another tease far as I can see\nTrying to get you up out this club\nIf it means spending a couple dubs\nThrowing bout 30 stacks in the back\nMake it rain like that \u2018cause I'm far from a scrub\nAnd you know my pedigree\nEx-dealer, used to move 'phetamines\nGirl, I spend money like it don't mean nothin'\nAnd besides, I got a thing for you\n\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole\nI know you see me looking at you and you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know, girl\n\nMobbin' through the club in low pressin'\nI'm sittin' in the back in the smoking section (Just smokin', just smokin')\nBird's eye, I got a clear view\nYou can't see me, but I can see you (Baby, I see you, see you)\nIt's cool, we jet, the mood is set, your pussy is wet\nYou rubbin' your back and touchin' your neck (Yeah, yeah)\nYour body is movin', ya humpin' and jumpin'\nYour titties is bouncin' (Yeah)\nYou smilin' and grinnin' and lookin' at me\nGirl, and while your looking at me\nI'm ready to hit the Caddy right up on the patio\nMove the patty to the Caddy\nBaby, you got a fatty, the type I like to marry\nWanting to just give you everything\nAnd that's kind of scary\n\u2018Cause I'm loving the way you shake your ass (Ass)\nBouncing, got me tipping my glass (Glass)\nNormally don't get caught up too fast\nBut I got a thing for you\n\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole\nI know you see me looking at you and you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know, girl\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole\nI know you see me looking at you and you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know\nI wanna fuck you (Fuck you), you already know, girl (Girl, girl)"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsI Wanna Love You Lyrics\nKonvict\nKonvict, Music, and you know we Upfront\n\nI see you windin' and grindin' up on the floor\nI know you see me lookin' at you and you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know, girl\n\nMoney in the air as mo' fell\nGrab you by your coattail, take you to the motel, ho sale\nDon't tell, won't tell\nBaby say, \"I don't talk Dogg, then she told on me\", oh well\nTake a picture with me, what the flick gon' do?\nBaby, stick to me, and I'ma stick on you\nIf you pick me, then I'ma pick on you\nD-O double G and I'm here to put this d\u2014 on you\nI'm stuck on p\u2014 and yours is right\nRip ridin' the poles and them doors is tight\nAnd I'ma get me a shot 'fo the end of the night\n'Cause p\u2014 is p\u2014, and baby, your p\u2014 for life\n\nI see you windin' and grindin' up on the floor\nI know you see me lookin' at you and you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know, girl\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nShorty I can see, you ain't lonely\nHandful of n\u2014 and they all got cheese\nSee you lookin' at me, now what it's gon' be?\nJust another tease far as I can see\nTryna get you up out this club\nIf it means spendin' a couple dubs\nThrowin' 'bout thirty stacks in the back\nMake it rain like that 'cause I'm far from a scrub\nAnd you know my pedigree\nEx-dealer use to move amphetamines\nGirl I, spend money like it don't mean nothing\nAnd besides, I got a thing for you\n\nI see you windin' and grindin' up on the floor\nI know you see me lookin' at you and you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know, girl\n\nMobbin' through the club and I'm low pressin'\nI'm sittin' in the back in the smoker's section (Just smokin', just smokin')\nBird's eye, I got a clear view\nYou can't see me, but I can see you (Baby, I see you)\nHmm, it's cool, we jet, the mood is set\nYour p\u2014 is wet, you're rubbin' your back and touchin' your neck (Yeah)\nYour body is movin', you humpin' and jumpin' (Yeah)\nYour t\u2014 is bouncin', you smilin' and grinnin' and lookin' at me\nGirl, and while you're lookin' at me, I'm ready to hit the caddy\nRight up on the patio, move the patty to the caddy\nBaby, you got a phatty, the type I like to marry\nWantin' to just give you everything and that's kinda scary\n'Cause I'm loving the way you shake your ass\nBouncin' got me tippin' my glass\nNormally don't get caught up too fast\nBut I got a thing for you\n\nI see you windin' and grindin' up on the floor\nI know you see me lookin' at you and you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know\nI see you windin' and grindin' up on the floor\nI know you see me lookin' at you and you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know\nI wanna love you (Love you), you already know, girl, girl"}
{"text":"33 ContributorsRight Now (Na Na Na) Lyrics\nIt's been so long (Long)\nThat I haven't seen your face\nI'm tryna be strong (Strong)\nBut the strength I have is washin' away\nIt won't be long (Long)\nBefore I get you by my side\nAnd just hold you, tease you, squeeze you\nTell you what's been on my mind\n\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nWish we never broke up right now, na, na\nWe need to link up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nWish we never broke up right now, na, na\nWe need to link up right now, na, na\n\nGirl, I know (Know)\nMistakes were made between us two\nAnd we showed (Showed)\nOur ass that night, even said some things weren't true\nWatched you go (Go)\nAnd haven't seen my girl since then\nWhy can't it be the way it was?\n'Cause you were my homie, lover and friend\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nWish we never broke up right now, na, na\nWe need to link up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nWish we never broke up right now, na, na\nWe need to link up right now, na, na\n\nI can't lie (I miss you much)\nWatching every day that goes by (I miss you much)\n'Til I get you back I'm gon' try (Yes, I miss you much)\n'Cause you are the apple of my eye (Girl, I miss you much, I miss you much)\nI can't lie (I miss you much)\nWatching every day that goes by (I miss you much)\n'Til I get you back I'm gon' try (Yes, I miss you much)\n'Cause you are the apple of my eye (Girl, I miss you much, I miss you much)\n\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nWish we never broke up right now, na, na\nWe need to link up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nWish we never broke up right now, na, na\nWe need to link up right now, na, na\nI want you to fly with me (Want you to fly)\nI miss how you lie with me (Miss how you lie)\nJust wish you could dine with me (Wish you could dine with me)\nThe one that'll grind with me (Said the one that will grind with me)\nI want you to fly with me (Want you to fly)\nI miss how you lie with me (Oh, miss how you lie)\nJust wish you could dine with me (Wish you could dine)\nThe one that'll grind with me (Oh, one that'll grind, yeah, yeah)\n\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na (Make up, no, woah, woah)\nWish we never broke up right now, na, na\nWe need to link up right now, na, na (Link up, baby)\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nI wanna make up right now, na, na\nWish we never broke up right now, na, na\nWe need to link up right now, na, na (Link up)"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsLocked Up Lyrics\nI'm steady tryna find the motive (Motive)\nWhy I do what I do?\nFreedom ain't getting no closer (Closer)\nNo matter how far I go\nMy car is stolen (Stolen)\nNo registration (-Tration)\nCops patrollin' (Patrollin')\nNow they done stop me and I get locked up\n\nThey won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nI'm locked up\nThey won't let me out (No!)\nThey won't let me out\nI'm locked up\nThey won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nI'm locked up\nThey won't let me out (No!)\nThey won't let me out\n\nHeading uptown to re-up (Re-up)\nBack with a couple keys (Keys)\nCorner block's on fire (Fire)\nUndercovers dressed as fiends (Fiends)\nMaking so much money (Money)\nProduct's moving fast (Fast!)\nPut away the stash\nAs I sold the last bag\nFucked around and got locked up\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nThey won't let me out\nThey won't let me out (My nigga, I'm locked up)\nThey won't let me out (No!)\nThey won't let me out\nI got locked up\nThey won't let me out\nThey won't let me out (Baby girl, I'm locked up)\nThey won't let me out (No!)\nThey won't let me out\n\n\u2018Cause visitation no longer comes by (Comes by)\nSeems like they forgot about me ('Bout me)\nCommissary is getting empty (Empty)\nMy cell mates getting food without me (Without me)\nCan't wait to get out\nAnd move forward with my life (Ooh no, with my life)\nGot a family that loves me\nAnd wants me to do right\nBut instead, I'm here locked up\n\nThey won't let me out\nThey won't let me out (Ohh! I'm locked up)\nThey won't let me out (No!)\nThey won't let me out (My nigga, I'm locked up)\nThey won't let me out\nOh, oh, oh! (They won't let me out)\nI'm locked up\nThey won't let me out (No!)\nThey won't let me out\nCan you pay me a visit? (They won't let me out)\nSend me some magazines? (They won't let me out)\nSend me some money orders? (They won't let me out) (No!)\nPay me a visit, baby (They won't let me out)\n\u2018Cause I'm locked up (They won't let me out)\nWhere's my lawyer? (They won't let me out)\nI'm locked up (They won't let me out) (No!)\nGet me out of here (They won't let me out)\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nThey won't let me out (Baby, I'm locked up)\nThey won't let me out (No!)\nWhere's my niggas on the lock-down? (They won't let me out)\nDamn, I'm locked up, they won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nOhhh! They won't let me out\nCan you please accept my phone calls? (They won't let me out)\nI'm locked up, locked up, locked up"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsBeautiful Lyrics\nWhen I see you\nI run out of words, to say (Ahh)\nI wouldn't leave you\n'Cause you're that type of girl to make me stay (Ahh)\n\nI see the guys tryna holla\nGirl, I don't wanna bother you\n'Cause you're independent, and you got my attention\nCan I be yo' baby father?\nGirl, I just wanna show you\nThat I love what you are doin' now\n\nI see you in the club, you gettin' down, girl\nI wanna get with you, yeah\nI see you in the club, you showin' thugs love\nI wanna get with you\nYou're so beautiful, so damn beautiful\nSaid you're so beautiful, so damn beautiful\n\nYou're so beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful\nYou're so beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful\nYou're so beautiful\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nLike the clouds you, drift me away\nFar away, yeah\nAnd like the sun you, brighten my day\nYou brighten my day, yeah\n\nI never wanna see you cry, cry, cry\nAnd I never wanna tell a lie, lie, lie\nSaid I never wanna see you cry, cry, cry\nAnd I never wanna tell a lie, lie, lie\n\nI see you in the club, you gettin' down, girl\nI wanna get with you, yeah\nI see you in the club, you showin' thugs love\nI wanna get with you\nYou're so beautiful, so damn beautiful\nSaid you're so beautiful, so damn beautiful\n\nYou're so beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful\nYou're so beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful\nYou're so beautiful\n\nKardinal told you (You) whether the sky blue or yellow\nThis fellow ain't that mellow if it ain't about you (You)\nHourglass shape make the place go \"oooh\"\nWaistline makes my soldier salute\nI'm a brute (Brute) high from ya high heel game\nHigh heels push up ya ass last name\nAnd you livin' in the fast lane, eyes like an angel\nGoddess, watch my girl and how she hot dress\nSpotless, heartless, bad to the bone\nMake me wanna bone, put me in a triple-X zone (Zone)\nLames don't know how to talk to you\nSo let me walk with you, hold my hand\nI'ma spend them grands but after you undress\nNot like a hooker, but more like a princess\nQueen, empress, president pull\nAny way ya goin' off 'cause you're beautiful, okay?\nI see you in the club, you gettin down, girl\nI wanna get with you, yeah\nI see you in the club, you showin thugs love\nI wanna get with you\nYou're so beautiful, so damn beautiful\nSaid you're so beautiful, so damn beautiful\n\nYou're so beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful\nYou're so beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful\nYou're so beautiful\n\nWhere'd you come from? You're outta this world to me (Ahh)\nYou're a symbol of what every beautiful woman should be\nOoh wee (ahh)\n\nI never wanna see you cry, cry, cry (Don't cry)\nAnd I never wanna tell a lie, lie, lie (Ooh, yeah)\nSaid I never wanna see you cry, cry, cry (Oh)\nAnd I never wanna tell a lie, lie, lie (A lie)\n\nI see you in the club, you gettin down, girl\nI wanna get with you, yeah\nI see you in the club, you showin thugs love\nI wanna get with you\nYou're so beautiful, so damn beautiful\nSaid you're so beautiful, so damn beautiful\nYou're so beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful\nYou're so beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful\nYou're so beautiful"}
{"text":"69 ContributorsI\u2019m So Paid Lyrics\nRubbin\u2019 on that Italian leather\nThem Konvict jeans on\nYou ready?\nYeah\nYeah\nGeah! (Konvict)\n\nI get it in 'til the sunrise (Ayy)\nDoin\u2019 90 in a 65 (Ayy)\nWindows rolled down, screamin\u2019 out\nAy, ay, ay, I'm so paid\nNumber one hustler gettin\u2019 money (Ayy)\nWhy you wanna count my money?  (Ayy)\nI'm a hustler, don't need none of y'all, you see\nI'm so paid\n\nI see police on that crooked-I\nDoin\u2019 a hundred on Interstate 95\nMy shawty leanin\u2019, blasting that Do or Die\nWishing that a muddasucka would, \u2018cause we certified\nGot a system that'll beat and knock your wall off\nGot a pump under my seat, the sawed-off\nGot a bunch of goons, hope they never call off\nAnd them snipers sitting on the roof already saw y'all\nIt ain't too much to put a strain on me\nThat's the reason why I had to put the blame on me\nRather have them dollar bills rain on me\nThan let them haters come and make a name off me\nThat's why...\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nI get it in 'til the sunrise (Ayy)\nDoin\u2019 90 in a 65 (Ayy)\nWindows rolled down, screamin\u2019 out\nAy, ay, ay, I'm so paid\nNumber one hustler gettin\u2019 money (Ayy)\n(Yo, Bu\u2014I told you I had you, homeboy)\nWhy you wanna count my money? (Ayy, yeah)\nI'm a hustler, don't need none of y'all, you see\n(Yo, 'Kon, I got you)\nI'm so paid\n\nShe said, \"Young, why your voice so hoarse?\"\nI just sound like money, baby, I should've been a Porsche (Vroom)\nPaint look like a sugar-free Red Bull (Woo)\nI'm so paid, you know I keep a pocket full (Haha)\nAnd that's before the taxes\nTook my whole gross net and hid it under my mattress (Damn)\nI used to get bored and count twenties for practice (What?)\nPaper therapy, we let that money relax us (Yeah)\nGold chains 'round my neck just like Michael Phelps\nI made a killing in the water (Oh), kill them with the water (Oh)\nAgainst all odds, and I will not stop (Will not stop)\nThey try and keep me on bottom, but I prefer the top (Yeahhh)\nAnd my project chick, I moved her next to Joc\nShe said the house was too small, I moved an extra block (Haha)\nSo, baby, get your ass up, I need an extra block (Ayy)\nI told her, \"Do the speed limit and no extra stops\"\nAnd that's why... (That's why)\nI get it in 'til the sunrise (Yeah! Ayy)\nDoin\u2019 90 in a 65 (Yeah! Ayy)\nWindows rolled down, screamin\u2019 out (Ayy, ayy, ayy)\nAy, ay, ay, I'm so paid (Yeah)\nNumber one hustler gettin\u2019 money (What's up? What's up?)\nWhy you wanna count my money? (Ayy)\n(Why you wanna count my money?)\nI'm a hustler, don't need none of y'all, you see\n(You can't count it!)\nI'm so paid\n\nI\u2019m the boss, it only takes one call\nFor a driver to hit you up and drop you off, that's all\n(Guess what?) I won't be taking that fall\nHomie, I got cake, that's what I'm paying them for\nHaha, ain't that funny?\n\u2018Cause niggas, they want war but ain't got money\n\u2018Cause I've seen them all talking until they start gunning\nQuicker than Usain Bolt, the fastest thing running\nYeah, Akon, Weezy (Jeezy!)\nBlack Royals holdin' down Jersey (Jersey)\nDevine making sure we getting it up front\nMy little brother Bu got that vision, baby\nI get it in 'til the sunrise (Ayy)\nDoin\u2019 90 in a 65 (Ayy)\nWindows rolled down, screamin\u2019 out\nAy, ay, ay, I'm so paid (Yeah)\nNumber one hustler gettin\u2019 money (Ayy)\nWhy you wanna count my money? (Ayy)\nI'm a hustler, don't need none of y'all, you see\nI'm so paid (Sheesh!)\n\nAh-em, Big Money Weezy\nWhite wife-beater with the Sig underneath it\nHow do I feel? Bitch, I feel undefeated\nSnap my fingers, disappear from the precinct, yeah\nI'm ballin', we ball out\nBall 'til we fall until the ball bounce\nI send some niggas with guns to y'all house\nOnly to find out you live in a dollhouse, damn!\nBut I thought you was tough, though\nWe carry choppers on our necks; call it \"cutthroat\"\nWe bury cowards on the set that they come from\nWe know magic, turn weed smoke to gun smoke\nWe! Bomb first when we ride\nYou! In a hearse when you ride (Ayy, ayy)\nI put my shoe down, baby\nAnd I'm holding down Young Mula, baby\nThat's why...\n\nI get it in 'til the sunrise (Ayy)\nDoin\u2019 90 in a 65 (Ayy)\nWindows rolled down, screamin\u2019 out\nAy, ay, ay, I'm so paid\nNumber one hustler gettin\u2019 money (Ayy)\nWhy you wanna count my money?  (Ayy)\nI'm a hustler, don't need none of y'all, you see\nI'm so paid"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsGhetto Lyrics\nGhetto, ghetto\nGhetto, ghetto livin'\n\nThese streets remind me of quicksand\nWhen you're on it, you'll keep goin' down\nAnd there's no one to hold on to\nAnd there's no one to pull you out\nYou keep on fallin', no one can hear you callin'\nSo you end up self-destructin'\nOn the corner with the toolie on the waist line\nJust got up out the thing doin' state time\nTeeth marks on my back from the K-9\nDark memories of when there was no sunshine\n\u2018Cause they said that I wouldn't make it\nI remember like yesterday\nHoldin' on to what God gave me\n\n\u2018Cause that's the life\nWhen you're livin' in the (ghetto)\nAnd eatin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, sleepin' in the (ghetto)\nGhetto, that's the life\nWhen you're livin' in the (ghetto)\nAnd eatin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, sleepin' in the (ghetto, ghetto)\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nNo need to cherish luxuries\n\u2018Cause everything come and go\nEven the life that you have is borrowed\n\u2018Cause you're not promised tomorrow\nSo live your life as if every day is gon' be your last\nOnce you've moved forward\nYou can't go back just to remove your past\n\u2018Cause you gotta be willin' to pray\nYes, there gotta be, there gotta be a better way\nYes, you gotta be willin' to pray\n\u2018Cause there gotta be, there gotta be a better day\nWhoever said that the struggle would stop today?\nA lot a niggas dead or locked away\nTeenage women growin' up with AIDS\n\n\u2018Cause that's the life\nWhen you're livin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, eatin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, sleepin' in the (ghetto)\nGhetto, that's the life\nWhen you're livin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, eatin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, sleepin' in the (ghetto, ghetto)\nGun shots every night in the (ghetto)\nCrooked cops on sight in the (ghetto)\nEveryday is a fight in the (ghetto)\nOh oh oh oh oh (ghetto livin')\nGot kids to feed in the (ghetto)\nSellin' coke and weed in the (ghetto)\nEveryday somebody bleed in the (ghetto)\nOh oh oh oh oh (ghetto livin')\n\n\u2018Cause that's the life\nWhen you're livin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, eatin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, sleepin' in the (ghetto)\nGhetto, that's the life\nWhen you're livin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, eatin' in the (ghetto)\nOh, sleepin' in the (ghetto, ghetto)"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsBananza (Belly Dancer) Lyrics\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer\n\nYo, excuse me, beg your pardon, girl\nDo you have any idea what you starting, girl?\nYou got me tingiling, come to me mingiling\nSteppin off lookin' bootylicious and jingiling\nWhen you walk, I see it baby girl\nWhen you talk, I believe it baby girl\nI like that, thick-petite n' pretty\nLittle touch is a ditty\nLove to work the kitty like \"purrrr\"\nShe loves to stir it up (Purrr)\nI can hear her purring up\nCause she's the type that'll get arousy of\nGet you excited and call her boyfriend up (Ohh)\nWhat's the man without the plan B\nWe can meet up at the hutter house for the TV\nSo stand by like a butty pass\nWhile I watch this beautiful thing shake that ass\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer\n\nGirl, I must say you the flyest thang in here\nSo hot we gon' need some rain in here\nType to make ex-gangstas bang in here\nGirl, you could do anything you want in here\nClown if you want to, frown if you want to\nYou ain't even gotta drop down if you want to\n'Cause I'd rather see you shake it standin'\nEither way you do it girl, you look outstandin' (Uhhuuuhh)\nAnd now you got me spending (Uhhuuhhh)\nThe way you got that body bendin' (Uhhhuhh)\nAn ass like that girl, you gotta be kickin'\nAnd we goin' to church next day repentant\nLap dancing for my FA crew\nSlide it ova to Bu cause he wants some too\nUp in the VIP with no fee\nBlessing you with the G even tho we gettin' it free, so\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer\n\nGirl shake ya body body\nWith somebody body\nWhatever you do, don't break your body body\nAfter the party party\nGrab a hottie hottie\nIn the back seat of your Maserati-rati\nJiggle jiggle it to the left (Ah ah ah)\nJiggle jiggle it to the right (Ah ah ah)\nJiggle it to the front, then jiggle it to the back\nAnd jiggle jiggle it all all night (Ah ah ah)\n\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer\nHey ladies, drop it down\nJust wanna see you touch the ground\nDon't be shy girl, go Bananza\nShake ya body like a belly dancer"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsLocked Up (Remix) Lyrics\nLocked up, they won't let me out\nAnd I had a long day in court, shit stress me out\nWon't give me a bail, they can't get me out\nNow I'm heading to the County, gotta do a bid here\nI used to living luxurious, I don't wanna live here\nThe walls is gray, the clothes is orange\nThe phones is broke, the food is garbage\nLotta niggas is living with these circumstances\nS.P.'s the same, I still merk your mans-es\nDrug money to rap money, work advances\nNiggas ran and told, I should've merked to Kansas\nGot popped for a murder attempt\nKnock me on D-Block when I was burnin' the hemp\nHad a brick in the stash\nHope they don't take it to a further extent\nLocked up and they won't let me out\nWhen I hit my cellblock, niggas know the dread be out\n\nI'm steady tryin' to find a motive\nWhy do what I do?\nThe freedom ain't getting no closer\nNo matter how far I go\nMy car is stolen, no registration\nThe cops patrollin'\nAnd now they done stopped me\nAnd I get locked up\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nThey won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nI'm locked up; they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\n\nHeading up town to re-up\nBack with a couple ki's\nThe corner block's on fire\nUndercovers dressed as fiends\nMaking so much money\nProduct's moving fast\nPut away the stash\nAs I sold the last bag\nFucked around and got locked up\n\nThey won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nMy nigga I'm locked up; they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\nNow that I'm locked up I rep two sets so\nI'ma Ryde or Die and stay D-Blocked up\nTwo toothbrushes up, whoever want it with P\nWhen I walk by, nigga, get up\n\u2018Cause I'm locked up, they can't get me out\nI smoke a stick of haze when they stress me out\nGo and hit the bar when the wrecks be out\nCan't wait for the day when they let me out\n\n\u2018Cause visitation no longer comes by\nIt seems like they forgot about me\nCommissary is getting empty\nMy cellmates getting food without me\nI can't wait to get out\nAnd move forward with my life\nGot a family that loves me\nAnd wants me to do right\nBut instead I'm here locked up\n\nThey won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nOh! I'm locked up; they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\nMy nigga I'm locked up, they won't let me out\nThey won't let me out\nI'm locked up, they won't let me out\nNo, they won't let me out\n\u2018Cause I'm locked up\nWhere's my lawyer?\nGet me out of here\nBaby, I'm locked up\nWhere's my niggas on the block?\nTell them I'm locked up\nI'm locked up\nCan you please accept my phone call?"}
{"text":"15 ContributorsBe With You Lyrics\nI know they wanna come and separate us\nBut they can't do us nothin'\nYou're the one I want and I'ma continue lovin'\nCause you're considered wife and I'm considered husband\nAnd I'ma always be there for you\nAnd either way you look at it, I ain't goin' nowhere from my muffin'\nCause she gonna hold it down, can't nobody tell her nothin'\nThat got the kind of love that always make a better fussin'\nAnd that's what gets me closer to you\n\nAnd no one know why I'm into you\n'Cause you'll never know what it's like to walk in our shoes\nAnd no one know the things we've been through\nCan never measure up to half of what I put you through\nThat's why we'll break through\n\nAnd I don't care what they say, I'm gonna be with you\nI'm gonna be with you, I wanna be with you\nAnd I don't care what they do, I'm gonna be with you\nI'm gonna be with you, I'm gonna be with you\n\nSeems like every day that go by, things are gettin' harder\nWanna be the one that give you the whole enchilada\nCause I know what my baby like, I lean you on that Prada\nYou ain't got to match with the shoes\nAll about knowin' you, I'm into doin' things to keep her longer\nStickin' together forever, watch you grow stronger\nThat's the way it has to be, everythin' proper\nKeepin' it always true\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nAnd no one know why I'm into you\nCause you'll never know what it's like to walk in our shoes\nAnd no one know the things we've been through\nCan never measure up to half of what I put you through\nThat's why we'll break through\n\nAnd I don't care what they say, I'm gonna be with you\nI'm gonna be with you, I wanna be with you\nAnd I don't care what they do, I'm gonna be with you\nI'm gonna be with you, I'm gonna be with you\n\nYou are everythin' in my life, see the joy you bring\nAnd ain't no one I compare you to\nAnd I know that you will never walk away from me no matter what\nAnd that's why I plan to do the same thing for you\nAnd I want you to know\n\nAnd I don't care what they say, I'm gonna be with you\nI'm gonna be with you, I wanna be with you\nAnd I don't care what they do, I'm gonna be with you\nI'm gonna be with you, I'm gonna be with you\nAnd I don't care what they say, I'm gonna be with you\nI'm gonna be with you, I wanna be with you\nAnd I don't care what they do, I'm gonna be with you\nI'm gonna be with you, I'm gonna be with you"}
{"text":"8 ContributorsGhetto (remix) Lyrics\nGhetto, Ghetto, Ghetto, Ghetto we livin\n\nI know how it feel to wake up fucked up\nPockets broke as hell, another rock to sell\nPeople look at you like youse the user\nSelling drugs to all the losers, mad buddha abuser\nBut they don't know about your stress-filled day\nBaby on the way mad bills to pay\nThat's why you drink Tanqueray; so you can reminisce\nAnd wish, you wasn't livin so devilish, ssshit\nI remember I was just like you\nSmokin blunts with my crew, flippin over 62's\nCause G-E-D, wasn't B-I-G\nI had to get P-A-I-D, that's why my moms hate me\nShe was forced to kick me out, no doubt\nThen I figured out licks went for twenty down South\nPacked up my tools for my raw power move\nGlock nineteen for casket and flower moves\nFor chumps tryin to stop my flow\nAnd what they don't know will show on the autopsy\nWent to see Papi, to cop me a brick\nAsked for some consignment and he wasn't tryin to hear it\nSmoking mad Newport's cause I'm due in court\nFor an assault, that I caught, in Bridgeport, New York\nCatch me if you can like the Gingerbread Man\nYou better have your gat in hand, cause man\n(you betta have your gat in hand cause man)\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nGhetto, Ghetto, Ghetto, Ghetto we livin\n\nOur lifestyles be close captioned\nAddicted to fatal attractions\nPictures of actions be played back\nIn the midst of mashin'\nNo fairy tales for this young black male\nSome see me stranded in this land of hell, jail, and crack sales\nHustlin' and heart be a nigga culture or the\nRepercutions while bustin' on backstabbin' vultures\nSellin' my soul for material wishes, fast cars and bitches\nWishin' I live my life a legend, immortalized in pictures\nWhy shed tears? Save your sympathy\nMy childhood years were spent buryin' my peers in the cemetary\nHere's a message to the newborns, waitin' to breathe\nIf you believe then you can achieve\nJust look at me\nAgainst all odds, though life is hard we carry on\nLivin' in the projects, broke with no lights on\nTo all the seeds that follow me\nProtect your essence\nBorn with less, but you still precious\n\nGhetto, Ghetto, Ghetto, Ghetto we livin\nGun shots every night in the (ghetto)\nCrooked cops on sight in the (ghetto)\nEvery day is a fight in the (ghetto)\n(oh oh oh oh oh) (ghetto)\nGot kids to feed in the (ghetto)\nSelling coke and weed in the (ghetto)\nEvery day somebody bleed in the (ghetto)\n(oh oh oh oh oh) (ghetto)\n\nI had the master plan\nI'm in the caravan on my way to Maryland\nWith my man Two-Tecs to take over this projects\nThey call him Two-Tecs, he tote two tecs\nAnd when he start to bust he like to ask, Who's next?\nAt last, I'm literally loungin black\nSittin back, countin double digit thousand stacks\nSee who got smoked, what rumors was spread\nLast I heard I was dead\n\nGhetto, Ghetto, Ghetto, Ghetto we livin\nCause thats the life when your\nLiving in the (ghetto) oh\nEating in the (ghetto) or\nSleeping in the (ghetto, ghetto)\nThats the life when ur\nLiving in the (ghetto)oh\nEating in the (ghetto) or\nSleeping in the (ghetto, ghetto, ghetto)\nIt's a funny thing, I kinda realized how powerful 2pac and I was. You kno wha I'm saying cuz Pac is a strong dude yo. I kno him. We two individual people, we waged a coastal beef. But even tho we were going through our drama I would never wish death on nobody cuz there ain't no comin back"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsFreedom Lyrics\nEverything I have, everything I own\nAll my mistakes man, you already know\nI wanna be free, I wanna be free\n\nFrom Senegal, West Africa\nTo St. Louis, Missouri\nThanks to Katherine Dunham\nFor giving my pops his glory\nHe came down with his drum\nAnd a dream to change the world\nIn a free uplifting world\nAnd that's all he ever want\nMom came a little after\nGave birth to my brother\nThen all of the pressure\nMade 'em fight one another\nSee the pain would never last\nDid the best with what they had\nHe knew the world was out for grabs\nAnd he searched to find his\n\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nEverything I have, everything I own\nAll my mistakes man, you already know\nI wanna be free, I wanna be free\nSo I search to find my\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nEverything I have, everything I own\nAll my mistakes girl, you already know\nI wanna be free, I wanna be free, yeah\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nAs a kid I never knew\nI'd have to hustle just to make it through\nSo I found myself skipping school\nCause the girls don't think I'm cool\nAnd because of that I didn't care\nWhether or not I went to jail\nI just wanna be treated fair\nCause that's all I ever knew\nTelling me I need to slow down\nCause everybody in the whole town\nCause they know how I get down\nForeigner from another town\nCan you believe we still around?\nAfter so many hit the ground\nAnd we ain't gon stop now\nUntil we get that\n\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nEverything I have, everything I own\nAll my mistakes man, you already know\nI wanna be free, I wanna be free\nWon't stop 'til I find my\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nEverything I have, everything I own\nAll my mistakes girl, you already know\nI wanna be free, I wanna be free\nIf you wanna be free, and the land is drug free\nPut your hands up, put your hands up\nIf you wanna be free, from all your misery\nPut your hands up, put your hands up\nIf you wanna be free, with plenty money\nPut your hands up, put your hands up\nIf you wanna be free, just praise G.O.D\nPut your hands up, put your hands up\n\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nFreedom\nEverything I have, everything I own\nAll my mistakes girl, you already know\nI wanna be free, I wanna be free, yea (echo...)"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsCashin Out Lyrics\nMoney to blow so I'm ridin 'round with that Nina (ride 'round with that Nina)\nWith a Hollywood ho with lips like Angelina (lips like Angelina)\nMy diamonds talk for me they say how can I meet ya? (how can I meet ya?)\nG flyer then sky how high, oh I can see her (oh I can see her)\nGot an island on my wrist, girl, I'm cashin' out (I'm cashin' out)\nGot an island on my neck, girl, I'm cashin' out (I'm cashin' out)\nMy diamonds talk for me they say how can I meet ya?\nG flyer then sky how high, oh I can see her\n\nI got t-pain around my wrist, Gaga around my neck\nGot o' money so long, I ain't movin' cash in them checks\nI keep wide 3's on my feet, still ridin' 'round with that heat\nForeign cars in my garage, all these bad bitches I beat\nOops! Is that your girl? She said her name was Nina\nOops! Ridin' 'round, gettin' head from a girl named Nina\nOops! I'm sorry, but I'm on my Ike and Tina (Ike and Tina)\nI'm African so you know I got hyenas\nI cashed out on my whips, I cashed out from my check\nGo watch MTV again, got that stations all in my bed\nGot a indoor court, outdoor court\nIndoor pool, outdoor pool\nI ain't lyin', nigga tell it's true\nAsk Ray he done be there too\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nMoney to blow so I'm ridin 'round with that Nina (ride 'round with that Nina)\nWith a Hollywood ho with lips like Angelina (lips like Angelina)\nMy diamonds talk for me they say how can I meet ya? (how can I meet ya?)\nG flyer then sky how high, oh I can see her (oh I can see her)\nGot an island on my wrist, girl, I'm cashin' out (I'm cashin' out)\nGot an island on my neck, girl, I'm cashin' out (I'm cashin' out)\nMy diamonds talk for me they say how can I meet ya?\nG flyer then sky how high, oh I can see her\n\nOk, I drop the top, hop in\nHoes they coming by flocks in\nBirds they coming by flocks in\nPass them birds like Stockton\nPlay with my money I'm popping\nNo acting, but it's a movie\nGot Spinz on the beat so we ain't losing\nDon't act like your ho ain't choosin\nI done blowed up, yeah I'm the bomb\nRiding round blowing on stank bombs\nPussy so good you should thank moms\nTop floor suite chilling at the Palms\nWe want the whole loaf leave y'all the crumbs\nTil then I'm running my check up\nAnd it's fuck a Bugatti I'm calling my jet up\nCool\n36 O's ho riding round with that nina\nRiding with a ho named Keisha, smoking on Keisha\nMy diamonds talk for me they say hi can I meet you\nShe fly high, high in the sky, ho I can't see you\nGot a condo on my wrist girl, I'm cashing out\nGot a condo around my neck girl, I'm cashing out\n36 O's so I'm riding round with that nina\nMy diamonds talk for me they say hi can I meet you\n\nIt's big pimping over here... Church\nTime to cop the Maybach already had the vert\nI got big money visions, Sammy Sosa pigeons\nWhat that mean? That mean they jumping out the kitchen\nAnd I'm on the money mission, nobody can stop me\nJust grab your camcorder, press record and gon' and watch me\nAnd you can skate on my ice just like you playing hockey\nAnd in the booth I beat the beat up, call me Rocky\nYeah I'm cocky\n\n36 O's ho riding round with that nina\nRiding with a ho named Keisha, smoking on Keisha\nMy diamonds talk for me they say hi can I meet you\nShe fly high, high in the sky, ho I can't see you\nGot a condo on my wrist girl, I'm cashing out\nGot a condo around my neck girl, I'm cashing out\n36 O's so I'm riding round with that nina\nMy diamonds talk for me they say hi can I meet you"}
{"text":"28 ContributorsGangsta Bop Lyrics\nKonvict, Konvict\nAyy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy\nGo gangsta\nAyy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy\nGo gangsta, keep boppin' (Block Boy up)\nRock with me, let's get this bitch poppin' (Upfront)\nGo gangsta, keep boppin' (Geah)\nLike back when a nigga was clockin'\n\nSee nowadays it seems like everybody wanna be killers\nGorillas gettin' high off their weed and liquor\nYou die quicker, paramedics drive back slow to the hospital\nYou get pronounced dead at 4 to the hospital\nStop frontin' when you know you won't pull nothin'\nFirst nigga to retreat when the tools bustin'\nPlayin' with death is bad for your health\nAll your homeboys gone, you the last one left\nNow, they hearts beatin' but these niggas be scared\nThe real ones are all locked up or dead\nNowadays you can't find a good connect\nBut if you do, you might be the feds, so\n\nI don't know you, you don't know me\nYou don't know the history I got on these streets\nOnly if you see what my eyes have seen\nThen you'll understand why I'm surrounded by G's\nIf you owe me or we got beef\nI recommend you reach for your heat and don't freeze\nPause for a minute, guarantee you gon' bleed\n'Cause that's how we was raised growin' up in these streets\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nGo gangsta, keep boppin'\nRock with me, let's get this bitch poppin'\nGo gangsta, keep boppin'\nLike back when a nigga was clockin'\n\nSee it's hard to be good but easy to do evil\nAnd I ain't really into meetin' with new people\nJust put the money in the bag and I'll leave you\nThe weed, coke, Lambo or Evisu\nYou make a hundred dollars, to the streets you made a G\nWhen you coppin' O's, they swearin' you move ki's\nFeds gettin' close and the rats seein' cheese\nAnd they tryna find them birds, not the ones that sleep in trees\nWe got that bird, we got that blue\nYou want short skirts? We got that too\nWhatever you need, my nigga, show me the cheese\nAnd baby, you can believe that we can make that brew\n\nI don't know you, you don't know me\nYou don't know the history I got on these streets\nOnly if you see what my eyes have seen\nThen you'll understand why I'm surrounded by G's\nIf you owe me or we got beef\nI recommend you reach for your heat and don't freeze\nPause for a minute, guarantee you gon' bleed\n'Cause that's how we was raised growin' up in these streets\nGo gangsta, keep boppin'\nRock with me, let's get this bitch poppin'\nGo gangsta, keep boppin'\nLike back when a nigga was clockin'\n\nStreets been watchin' and they don't blink\nSidewalk got ears, the pavement don't sleep\nThe fittest will survive, the weak just don't eat\nEverybody in between just gettin' a rap sheet\nThe streets been watchin' and they don't blink\nSidewalk got ears, the pavement don't sleep\nThe fittest will survive, the weak just don't eat\nEverybody in between just gettin' a rap sheet\n\nI don't know you, you don't know me\nYou don't know the history I got on these streets\nOnly if you see what my eyes have seen\nThen you'll understand why I'm surrounded by G's\nIf you owe me or we got beef\nI recommend you reach for your heat and don't freeze\nPause for a minute, guarantee you gon' bleed\n'Cause that's how we was raised growin' up in these streets\nGo gangsta, keep boppin'\nRock with me, let's get this bitch poppin'\nGo gangsta, keep boppin'\nLike back when a nigga was clockin'\nGo gangsta, keep boppin'\nRock with me, let's get this bitch poppin'\nGo gangsta, keep boppin'\nLike back when a nigga was clockin'\n\nSee it's hard to be good but easy to do evil\nAnd I ain't really into meetin' with new people\nSee it's hard to be good but easy to do evil\nAnd I ain't really into meetin' with new people\nSee it's hard to be good but easy to do evil\nAnd I ain't really into meetin' with new people\nSee it's hard to be good\u2026"}
{"text":"12 ContributorsDirty Work Lyrics\nIt\u2019s a dirty job but somebody\u2019s gotta do it\nI see you working go and put your back into it\nBaby I\u2019mma watch\u2026 you, just keep it moving\nYou know exactly what you\u2019re doing\nSo go and do your dirty work\nGo and do your dirty work\n\nAss up\nFace down\nPerfect body and she lay it to the ground\nStacked up\nWaist down\nWanted to throw it like a pitcher on a mound\nI see them niggas reaching for their last dollar\nAsking dumb questions like \u201cbaby, do you model?\u201d\nPromising everything, hopin\u2019 that they follow\nPraying for America, I hope they down with Harry Potter\nIsn\u2019t she the most beautiful thing that you ever saw?\nDon\u2019t she deserve the biggest diamond ring that you ever bought?\n\n\nGettin\u2019 down dirty, gettin\u2019 down dirty, gettin\u2019 down...\nGo and do your dirty work\nGettin\u2019 down dirty, gettin\u2019 down dirty, gettin\u2019 down...\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nBack up\nShake down\nJust give it all to me and do it right now\nShack up\nTake down\nJust wanna love you without looking' like a clown\nYou\u2019re the best that ever did it\nYou\u2019re killing everybody, how're you supposed to make a living?\nYes I know you hear it all when they trickin'\nI can hear them niggas saying you too pretty to be strippin'\nIsn\u2019t she the most beautiful thing that you ever saw?\nDon\u2019t she deserve the biggest diamond ring that you ever bought?\n\n\n\nMore money, more problems, less rest\nIf it\u2019s about a dollar later, shorty, let\u2019s invest\nDrop the top, pull the whip out like a hamstring\nYou on your job but I\u2019m a boss, I keep my hands clean\nKeep grabbin' all up on my coat\nI\u2019m lettin' out all of this smoke\nI\u2019m thrown' money in the air\nI\u2019m buying' bottles for my folks\nAnd then I\u2019m coming back for more\n\u2018Cause you know all my favorite features\nI'mma roll some of this reefer\nYou can call me Young Khalifa\n\n"}
{"text":"15 ContributorsTranslationsFran\u00e7aisI Can\u2019t Wait Lyrics\nI can't wait\nI can't wait\n\nI think of you\nWhen the morning comes and the night time goes away (all day)\nDon't you ever think that we won't be okay (no way)\nThere is nothin' stoppin' me from lovin' you\nTouchin' and rubbin' and kissin' and huggin' you\nWhat's this feelin' taking over, me?\nBaby that's love and it ain't no stoppin' it\nI don't know as far as the eyes can see\nPick up the pace and it ain't no droppin' it\nAlways forever I'll be by your side\nYou're my Bonnie, I'm your Clyde\nThat's the way that it's gonna be\nI'm in love with you and you in love with me\n\n(I can't wait) Sit down and talk for a minute\nGo outside and take a walk for a minute (for a minute)\nJust you, and me\n(I can't wait) Sit down and talk for a minute\nGo outside and take a walk for a minute (for a minute)\nJust you, and me\n(I can't wait)\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nI can't believe\nThat someone like you will love me endlessly (forever)\nIf this goes our way my love will always be (eternally)\nYou have set my mind, my love, my heart so free\nTogether forever however just you and me\nWhat's this feelin' taking over me\nBaby that's love and it ain't no stoppin' it\nI don't know as far as the eyes can see\nPick up the pace and it ain't no droppin' it\nAlways forever I'll be by your side\nYou're my Bonnie, I'm your Clyde\nCause that's the way that it's gonna be\nI'm in love with you and you're in love with me\n\n(I can't wait) Sit down and talk for a minute\nGo outside and take a walk for a minute (for a minute)\nJust you, and me\n(I can't wait) Sit down and talk for a minute\nGo outside and take a walk for a minute (for a minute)\nJust you, and me\n(I can't wait)\n\nTo have you right next to me here by my side (I can't wait)\nTo kiss and caress you girl while I'm holdin' you tight (I can't wait)\nCan't imagine life without you, it just ain't right (I can't wait)\nI got a whole lot of lovin', and you gon' get it tonight\n(I can't wait) Sit down and talk for a minute\nGo outside and take a walk for a minute (for a minute)\nJust you, and me\n(I can't wait) Sit down and talk for a minute\nGo outside and take a walk for a minute (for a minute)\nJust you, and me\n(I can't wait)\n\n{\"I can't wait.\"}\n{\"I can't wait.\"}\n{\"I can't wait.\"}"}
{"text":"23 ContributorsSmack That (Remix) Lyrics\nShady, Konvict, Upfront\n\nI feel you creepin'\nI can see it from my shadow\nWanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo\nMaybe go to my place\nAnd just kick it like Tae-Bo\nAnd possibly bend you over\nLook back and watch me\n\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-ohhh-oh-ohh\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-ohhh-oh-ohh\n\nShorty, if you wanna ride, you can ride on me\nWe can bump heads and collide on me\nWant beef? Damn right, can rely on me\nTo bring that Campbell like Naomi\nJust pull that girl and take it on easy\nLookin' all oiled-up and all greasy\n'Bout that time you stop that teasin'\nWay that you drop done got me here cheesin'\nWhat's funny is that you takin' all my money for real\nI'd rather spend it on you right now than my homie's bail\nAnd I can see that's what you're made fo'\nAnd ain't ever been no lame ho\nWith that booty bought and paid fo'\nWon't move 'til you on my payroll\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nI feel you creepin'\nI can see it from my shadow\nWanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo\nMaybe go to my place\nAnd just kick it like Tae-Bo\nAnd possibly bend you over\nLook back and watch me\n\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-ohhh-oh-ohh\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-ohhh-oh-ohh\n(Yeah, yeah, Stat Quo! Ahhh!)\n\nI love when you do it\nGirl, move to it like you're used to it\nDrop it down, I want to put my thing through it\nTo the crib we go, go fast and slow\nMake it twirl like a stripper, slide down my pole\nShorty ass so swole, got your boy like, \"Whoa!\"\nOne night with me, now she wanna marry Stat Quo\nBut I'm like, \"No, let's keep it on the low\nOn occasion let me come through and tap that hole.\"\nMake you lose control and all her girls know\nThat I hit it right at night, I'm a pro\nI only come 'round and get sexual\nIf she flexible and bisexual\nI might stay around for a longer time\nOnly if, only if she can blow my mind\nI can hurt that, murk that, work that spine\nNow she in love and wants to be mine; Stat Quo, yeah!\nI feel you creepin'\nI can see it from my shadow\nWanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo\nMaybe go to my place\nAnd just kick it like Tae-Bo\nAnd possibly bend you over\nLook back and watch me\n\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-ohhh-oh-ohh\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-ohhh-oh-ohh\n(Yeah, it's Bobby Creek, know what I'm sayin'?)\n\nThe ice in the watch reflects the light to her\nThe money quite green and the ice light bluer\nThe swag might kill her, so I said good night to her\nShe don't want me to leave, I can see right through her\nSo we dipped out, burn one, trip out\nGet low like Caribbean limbo\nDidn't go out like light, baby girl, get right\nHead so swole my hat don't fit right\nWe can cruise in the car or we could take flight\nThe middle of the night, make your body ape like\nMike Vick against the Eagles\nCall myself a king 'cause I'm regal\nTo be this hot is not legal\nBut we don't care\u2014listen, baby, it's a fact that\nIf you drop back I'ma quarterback sack that\nWe can go deep and I can shark attack that\nSay you don't remember where your keys and your hat at?\nI feel you creepin'\nI can see it from my shadow\nWanna jump up in my Lamborghini Gallardo\nMaybe go to my place\nAnd just kick it like Tae-Bo\nAnd possibly bend you over\nLook back and watch me\n\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-ohhh-oh-ohh\nSmack that, all on the floor\nSmack that, give me some more\nSmack that, 'til you get sore\nSmack that, oh-ohhh-oh-ohh"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsSunny Day Lyrics\nWho'd ever thought that I would see this day\nWhere I would see my ghetto life fade away\nCause I was lost, and couldn't find a way\nAnd now I look forward to everyday\nWelcome to my sunny day\n\nBlock don't stop, always stay hot\nNo matter how the season scorch\nI still remember when they took me away\nKept it on lock, then I got popped\nRealized I had to stop\nThen I took time to explore a better way\nSearch high and low, so close, yet so far to go\nI just know there's a sunny day\n\nWho'd ever thought that I would see this day (I would see this day)\nWhere I would see my ghetto life fade away (fade away)\nCause I was lost, and couldn't find a way (find a way)\nAnd now I look forward to everyday (everyday)\n\nWelcome to my sunny day, my sunny day\nEveryday, better day\nWelcome to my sunny day, my sunny day\nEveryday, better day\nWelcome to my sunny day\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nI was born in the ghetto, raised in the ghetto\nSaw my first 9 millimeter in the ghetto\nI got my first kiss in the ghetto\nPlayin' hide go seek with the girls in the ghetto\nI wrote my first hit in the ghetto\nYo Mona Lisa, can I get a date on Friday-ay-ay\nIt's hard for me to let go, life in the ghetto\nThe night they blast my cousin, whoa\nI had to find a way out the ghetto\nPicked up the guitar, started singin' in the ghetto\nHaters used to hate in the ghetto\nSaid I would have never made it out the ghetto\nI guess that's why my cousin sold the yayo\nEven though Annie said the sun come out tomorrow\nBut the ghetto stay dark\nI never thought I'd ever see the Billboard charts\n\nWho'd ever thought that I would see this day (I would see this day)\nWhere I would see my ghetto life fade away (fade away)\nCause I was lost, and couldn't find a way (find a way)\nAnd now I look forward to everyday (everyday)\n\nWelcome to my sunny day, my sunny day\nEveryday, better day\nWelcome to my sunny day, my sunny day\nEveryday, better day\nWelcome to my sunny day\nBeen a long day, on my way\nTo my holy place to pray\nGive thanks for every blessing given to me\nI know there's more to see, more to me\nNo more living in misery\nCause this how I vision life to be\nSearch high and low, so close, yet so far to go\nI just know there's a sunny day\n\nWho'd ever thought that I would see this day (I would see this day)\nWhere I would see my ghetto life fade away (fade away)\nCause I was lost, and couldn't find a way (find a way)\nAnd now I look forward to everyday (everyday)\n\nWelcome to my sunny day, my sunny day\nEveryday, better day\nWelcome to my sunny day, my sunny day\nEveryday, better day\nWelcome to my sunny day"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsSo Blue Lyrics\nI see you every damn day and I can't help wondering why\nWhy you look so good, but I ain't ever seen you smile\nGot a man that could buy you everything in this world\nBut I guess he ain't loving you right, girl, no\n\nCause I, I can see that you're lonely\nBaby, your one and only\nHe ain't giving you attention\nWanna know, wanna know, wanna know\nIs he telling you you're sexy?\nGirl, I wonder if you let me\nWhen I look at you I wonder, wonder, wonder\nWhat's he doing with a girl like you\nI wanna know, know, know, know\nYou're too fine to be looking so blue\nSo blue, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh \nSo blue, so blue\n\nWith a body like that, girl, you being his ain't fair\nSee, I will love you all time and all around town, I swear\nI can see that he ain't been hitting that at night\nOne ride with me would change your life\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nCause I, I can see that you're lonely\nBaby, you're one and only\nHe ain't giving you attention\nWanna know, wanna know, wanna know\nIs he telling you you're sexy?\nGirl, I wonder if you let me\nWhen I look at you I wonder, wonder, wonder\nWhat he's doing with a girl like you\nI wanna know, know, know, know\nYou're too fine to be looking so blue\nSo blue, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh \nSo blue, so blue\n\nSee, blue ain't your color\nBaby, you need a lover\nThat knows what your life comes through\nEvery time it ain't acting as it should\nI'm that solution, cause your man is a loser\nI'm looking, you feel so blue, so blue, so blue\n\nCause I, I can see that you're lonely\nBaby, you're one and only\nHe ain't giving you attention\nWanna know, wanna know, wanna know\nIs he telling you you're sexy?\nGirl, I wonder if you let me\nWhen I look at you I wonder, wonder, wonder\nWhat he's doing with a girl like you\nI wanna know, know, know, know\nYou're too fine to be looking so blue\nSo blue, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh \nSo blue, so blue\n\nToo fine to be looking so blue\nToo fine to be looking so blue\nHow he ended with a girl like you\nToo fine to be looking so blue"}
{"text":"8 ContributorsGood Girls Lie Lyrics\nOh yeah yeah\nOh yeah yeah\n\nYeah, it's about\nMore path than this big ol' thigh\nSpeak come on it\nThe body language, nigga\nIt don't lie\nI just wanna beat it\nShe wanna a thug nigga\nShow a good ol' time\nYeah, so I called the backup\nBottle of Hennessey and some good ol' wine\nYeah, and she came over\nFeeling high all over aha\nGirl, turn over, aha\nSo I can touch ya all over, aha\nYour body, wrapped around me and crossover, oh yeah\nYou so naughty\nRun a party to you forever\n\nThem good girls lie\nFor good love\nAnd bad boys lie\nJust cause\nCause good boys ain't no fun\nAnd bad boys carry guns\nEnd it up cleat, top of that shit\nFuck ya hard 'till you cum\nThem good girls lie\nFor good love\nAnd bad boys lie\nJust cause\nCause good boys ain't no fun\nAnd bad boys carry guns\nEnd it up cleat, top of that shit\nFuck ya hard 'till you cum\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nAnd I know you 'bout that\nAnd yeah you fight back\nPut that ass on the palm of my hand\nGrip tight like I'm throwin' fast stacks\nOh, hold it down now\nLot of rich niggas wanna run the town now, oh\nSo wanna break it down now\nBut I put a locker on to hold me down now, oh\nI won't make no lie\nWhen I say just bendover\nGirl turn on by\nSo I can touch ya all over, aha\nYour body, wrapped around me and crossover, yeah\nYou so naughty\nRun a party to you forever\n\nThem good girls lie\nFor good love\nAnd bad boys lie\nJust cause\nCause good boys ain't no fun\nAnd bad boys carry guns\nEmpty that clip, talk that shit\nFuck ya hard \u2018till you cum\nThem good girls lie\nFor good love\nAnd bad boys lie\nJust cause\nCause good boys ain't no fun\nAnd bad boys carry guns\nEnd it up cleat, top of that shit\nFuck ya hard 'till you cum\nYeah ah\nThem good girls lie too\nJust like you do\nThem bad girls show no shame\nBut they keep it true, aha\nI fuck with you\nYou damn right\nThe things you do, aha\nGood girls wanna be you\nAnd you wanna be them too\n\nThem good girls lie\nFor good love\nAnd bad boys lie\nJust cause\nCause good boys ain't no fun\nAnd bad boys carry guns\nEmpty that clip, talk that shit\nFuck ya hard 'till you cum\nThem good girls lie\nFor good love\nAnd bad boys lie\nJust cause\nCause good boys ain't no fun\nAnd bad boys carry guns\nIt up cleat, top of that shit\nFuck ya hard 'till you cum\nOh yeah yeah\nOh yeah yeah\nOh yeah yeah\nOh yeah yeah\nOh yeah yeah"}
{"text":"11 ContributorsI Wanna Love You (Remix) Lyrics\n(Yo)\nKonvict, Konvict, Konvict\nKonvict (Tego Calder\u00f3n)... Muzik (Snoop Dogg, Akon)\nAnd you know we up front\n\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole\nI know you see me looking at you and you already know\nI wanna fuck you, fuck you, you already know\nI wanna fuck you, fuck you, you already know, girl\n\nMoney in the air as mo' fell, grab you by your coat tail\nTake you to the motel, ho sale, don't tell, won't tell\nBaby said I don't talk (Shhh!), Dogg, but she told on me, oh well\nTake a picture with me, what the flick gon' do?\nBaby, stick to me, and I'mma stick on you\nIf you pick me then I'mma pick on you\nD-O-double G and I'm here to put this dick on you\nI'm stuck on pussy and yours is right\nRip ridinin' them poles and them doors is tight\nAnd I'mma get me a shot for the end of the night\n'Cause pussy is pussy and, baby, you're pussy for life\n\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole\nI know you see me looking at you and you already know\nI wanna fuck you, fuck you, you already know\nI wanna fuck you, fuck you, you already know, girl\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nShorty, I can see, you ain't lonely\nHandful of niggas and they all got cheese\nSo you looking at me now, what's it gonna be?\nJust another tease far as I can see\nTrying to get you up out this club\nIf it means spending a couple dubs\nThrowing bout 30 stacks in the back\nMake it rain like that 'cause I'm far from a scrub\nAnd you know my pedigree\nEx-dealer use to move 'phetamines\nGirl, I spend money like it don't mean nothin'\nAnd besides, I got a thing for you\n\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole. (Aj\u00e1)\nI know you see me looking at you and you already know. ('T\u00e1 bien!)\nI wanna fuck you (Aj\u00e1!), fuck you, you already know. (T\u00fa sabes!)\nI wanna fuck you (Voy yo), fuck you, you already know, girl\n\nHey, te ment\u00ed con lo de hacernos jevos, con lo del viejo\nPero, mucho gusto, yo soy Tego\nT\u00fa te vas pa' encima cuando caminas (Qu\u00e9, qu\u00e9? Ja!), t\u00fa eres mi bud\u00edn de esquina (Uy!)\nAs\u00ed que no te hagas la bruta y ponte pa' \u00e9sta ruta (Ponte!), que lleg\u00f3 Pap\u00e1 Machuca (Pap\u00e1)\nTe veo mirando, s\u00e9 lo que est\u00e1s pensando (Aj\u00e1!) y te noto bellaqueando (Uy!)\nPor ti, yo cambiar\u00eda par de d\u00edas hasta que deposite alguito en tu alcanc\u00eda (Ay Dios)\nQuiero ser tu papi, mami. Dame un break, bendito, que me tiene asfixiadito\nOk\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole\nI know you see me looking at you (Aj\u00e1!) and you already know. ('T\u00e1 bien!)\nI wanna fuck you, fuck you, you already know\nI wanna fuck you, fuck you, you already know, girl\n\nMobbin' through the club in low pressin'\nI'm sittin' in the back in the smoking section (Just smokin', just smokin')\nBird's eye, I got a clear view\nYou can't see me, but I can see you (Baby, I see you, I see you)\nIt's cool, we jet, the mood is set, your pussy is wet\nYou're rubbin' your back and touchin' (Yeah!) your neck\nYour body is movin', ya humpin' and jumpin' (Yeah)\nYour titties is bouncin'\nYou're smilin' and grinin' and lookin' at me\n\nGirl, and while your looking at me\nI'm ready to hit the Caddy right up on the patio\nMove the patty to the Caddy\nBaby, you got a fatty, the type I like to marry\nWanting to just give you everything\nAnd that's kind of scary\n\u2018Cause I'm loving the way you shake your ass\nBouncing, got me tipping my glass\nNormally don't get caught up too fast\nBut I got a thing for you\nI see you winding and grinding up on that pole\nI know you see me looking at you and you already know\nI wanna fuck you, fuck you, you already know\nI wanna fuck you, fuck you, you already know, girl\n\nAndo pensando en p\u00e1jaro pre\u00f1ado, enchulado, me tienes bien emburrado\nEn otra vida, te doy par de chamacos. En esta vine a romperte el trato (Aj\u00e1)\nNa' de pensiones, na' de embarazos\nSi quiere uno yo trato, oy\u00f3?\nMamita, yo trato. T\u00fa tratas? Jaja\n(You break it down for Tego)\n\nYo quiero darte (Hey!) tabla (Oh!), mi chula (Hey!), you know (Oh!)\nYo quiero darte (Yeah!) felpa, you already know, jaja!\nQu\u00e9 fue?Embed"}
{"text":"19 ContributorsMama Africa Lyrics\nSo much, so much, yeah, so much\nSo tell me can you feel it\nSo much, so much\nMuch, care, so much\nThen make that visit\nSo much, so much, love, so much\nSenegal can you feel it\nSo much, so much, yeah, so much\n\nSo much love to share\nPure blackness wantness, so rare\nSo much love to care\nLet them know they missing out\n(Mama Africa has) so much love to share\nSweet blackness wantness be there\nSo much love to care\nLet them know they missing out\nSing again\n\nA - Is for all the love and the life took away\nF - Don't forget we were bought and trade\nR - Ripped from the land and shipped away\nI  - Is the inspiration we use to survive\nC - Have to see it with your own cries\nA - No play add it up and arrive\nStill you don't know\nThe land is so gold and green\nThe place is so fresh and clean\nAnd everyday I water my garden\nTell if you feel I deep in your heart and\nThe space is so cool and nice\nVisit once guaranteed to visit twice\nAnd if you just believe in the Most High\nI know you'll be all right, mama Africa has\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nSo much love to share\nPure blackness wantness, so rare\nSo much love to care\nAnd let them know they missing out\n(Mama Africa has) so much love to share\nSweet blackness wantness be there\nSo much love to care\nAnd let them know they missing out\nSing again\n\nA - That's my favorite place when I need to get away\nF  - Must forget but we can't forget to pray\nR  - Flight lands right on the runway\nI   - In my homeland and I'm feeling so alive\nC - Imagine Africa unite\nA - Go on an accept her now it's all right\nStill you don't know\nSkin is so dark and brown\nShe lifts me right off the ground\nBut no, you're not gonna see it on your TV\nSo yo', just listen up and believe me\nHer trees have the only cure\nHer love is so new and pure\nHad to kiss them troubles goodbye bye\nNo I don't have to lie\nMama Africa you got\nSo much love to share\nPure blackness wantness, so rare\nSo much love to care\nAnd let them know they missing out\n(Mama Africa has) so much love to share\nSweet blackness wantness be there\nSo much love to care\nAnd let them know they missing out\nSing again\n\nSo much, so much, love so much\nSo tell me can you feel it\nSo much, so much care, so much\nThen make that visit\nSo much, so much love, so much\nSenegal now can you feel it\nSo much, so much yeah, so much\nSo much love to share\nI just can't see how we living without it\nSo much love to care\nDon't miss; don't miss one moment about it\nSo much love to share\nResist it's bliss though I really doubt it\nSo much love to care\nSo much love\nSo much love to share\nPure blackness wantness, so rare\nSo much love to care\nAnd let them know they missing out\n(Mama Africa has) so much love to share\nSweet blackness wantness be there\nSo much love to care\nAnd let them know they missing out\nSing again"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsAgainst the Grain Lyrics\nSo soft and slow\nNever knew, a girl could be so goddamn cold\nI know the way she move got me spendin' my dough, and yo\nIf you would have seen what I seen on that pole, just know\n\nThat I was wrong for fallin' in love (love)\nI was wrong for fallin' in love (they always said don't love a ho)\nSaid I was wrong for fallin' in love (love, don't do it yo)\nI was wrong for fallin in love (they always said don't love a ho)\nBut I just went against the grain\n\nIt was a feelin' I can't explain, and it felt like harmony\nSingin in my face like dee-dee-da-di-do-da-de\nI don't want it to ever go away\nI want it around me everyday\nSingin in my face like dee-dee-da-di-do-da-de\n\nLook at me, I'm stuck\nThe bubble in her pants got me caught up, I never had no luck\nThinkin with the wrong head got me jumpin' out there with no glove\nIt feels so good, had me sprung out on that stuff, now I'm stuck\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nThat's what I get for fallin' in love (love)\nThat's what I get for fallin' in love (they always said don't love a ho)\nThat's what I get for fallin' in love (love, don't do it yo)\nThat's what I get for fallin' in love (they always said don't love a ho)\nBut I just went against the grain\n\nIt was a feelin' I can't explain (woah), and it felt like harmony (harmony)\nSingin in my face like dee-dee-da-di-do-da-de (uuh)\nI don't want it to ever go away (I don't)\nI want it around me everyday (Uh, oh yeah)\nSingin in my face like dee-dee-da-di-do-da-de (Woah, yeah)\n\nSo thick, so raw\nThat oil all over her body stole my heart, I'm cold\nThe way she dropped down won't allow me to close my jaw, cause I'm\nAlready in love and I knew better from the start, oh no\n\nThat I was wrong for fallin' in love (love)\nI was wrong for fallin' in love (they always said don't love a ho)\nSaid I was wrong for fallin' in love (love, don't do it yo)\nI was wrong for fallin in love (they always said don't love a ho)\nBut I just went against the grain\nIt was a feelin' I can't explain (explain), and it felt like harmony (yeah)\nSingin in my face like dee-dee-da-di-do-da-de (do-da-de)\nI don't want it to ever go away (I don't)\nI want it around me everyday (everyday)\nSingin in my face like dee-dee-da-di-do-da-de (yeah)\nIt was a feelin' I can't explain (can't explain), and it felt like harmony (harmony)\nSingin in my face like dee-dee-da-di-do-da-de (uh yeah)\nI don't want it to ever go away (away)\nI want it around me everyday (everyday)\nSingin in my face like dee-dee-da-di-do-da-de (he)"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsThe Rain Lyrics\nYeah, oh diddy oh diddy ohh...\nAh-ah-ah-ahh, ah-ah-ah-ahh\nAkon, Konvict Konvict\nAh-ah-ah-ahh, ah-ah-ah-ahh\nKonvict music, yeah\n\nThe pressure's buildin' up (Oh), I feel like givin' up (Oh)\nHow in the fuck am I gonna back my first album up?\nWhen everything has changed (Oh), it'll never be the same (Oh)\nNobody knew me then, now everybody knows my name\nAnd I feel so ashamed\nI never been the kind of nigga that would complain\nBut it's so crazy, man\nIt's no different, every day, it's just the same thing\nNow it's been months out on the road\nOn tour doin' so many different shows\nHead spinnin', feelin' like it's gonna explode\nAnd I just wanna know\nIf anybody out there's feelin me\nI'm losin my mind and I can't believe\nI let this shit get the best of me\nAnd now I gotta let you know\n\nWhat's got me insane?\nOhh, 'cause I can't stand the rain\nAyy, it's hitting my window pane a little too much\nAnd now I gotta let you know\nWhat's got my face in a frown?\nAyy, 'cause I can't stand the sound (Can't stand the sound)\nOhh, the thunder that's crashing down upon my house (Ayy)\n'Cause now I gotta let you know\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nNow I got no more worries now (Now), my pocket's fatter now (Now)\nLook in the mirror, my reflection looks different now\nYou're gettin' bigger, Akon, you need to settle down\nWhy do I feel this way?\nShould I be happy or should I just ignore\nEverything that I've been given? Please help me Lord\nIt's all over, but I can't escape the rain\nNow it's been months out on the road\nOn tour doin' so many different shows\nHead spinnin', feelin' like it's gonna explode\nAnd now I gotta let you know\nIf anybody out there's feelin me\nI'm losin my mind and I can't believe\nI let this shit get the best of me\nAnd now I gotta let you know\n\nWhat's got me insane?\nOhh, 'cause I can't stand the rain (Can't stand it)\nAyy, it's hitting my window pane (Can't stand it), a little too much\nThat's why I gotta let you know\nWhat's got my face in a frown? (Yeah)\nAyy, 'cause I can't stand the sound (Can't stand the sound)\nOhh, the thunder that's crashing down (That's crashing down), upon my house\nSaid now whoa diddy whoa diddy whoa"}
{"text":"19 ContributorsBlown Away Lyrics\nYeah (Crazy)\nIt's one of the things, man, you gotta experience, you know what I'm talkin' about (Haha)\nIt's where the going gets rough (Akon)\nThe tough stay tough (Styles P)\nAh-hah! Upfront, let's go\nKonvict, haha\nWe in too deep to turn back now, D (Sure is)\nWatch yourself 'fore you get (Watch it)\nBlown away\n\nYou know where I come from\nThe place where your fade is a mic or a bull or dum-dum\nA jail cell, a pine box, and brothers are dumb young\nStill bust a gun for the slum that they come from\nCops is the only ones they gon' run from\nThey puttin' they hood up\nBut 9 out of 10 of us ain't got good luck\nYou gon' ride on a man and catch 25\nOr get hit and get sent to the other side\nYou lose both sides of the coin\nSo me, I play the hood, baby, 9 in the groin\nMomma got a little church I could join, but I ain't go yet\nMan got a mosque I could join, but I ain't go yet\nCool with the devil on my back, I'm in cold sweats\nAbout to do some dirt in some dirty black old sweats\nIf you known, you should've shown the way\nMost the hood on the path to get blown away\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\n'Cause I was raised up to show no fear\nCowardly hearts'll never last long here\nIf you ain't man up to make shit clear\nGuaranteed you'll get blown away\n'Cause I done seen the block break down tears\nAnd I done seen the cops break my peers\nTryna hold on a couple more years\nTryin' not to get blown away\n\nSee, I ain't never shot nobody, but I'm known for fighting\nSo when I strike, man, you think you been struck by lightning\nShouldn't have to prove myself by killin' a nigga\nEven a child can take a life by pullin' a trigger\nRetaliation only takes anger mixed with passion\nSee your target in the distance and keep on blastin'\nThey say, \"Guns don't kill people, people do\"\nSo when you hit, man, you feel that shit them evils do\nCan't see myself gettin' beat down, my eyes swollen\nMoms crying, really don't know what happened, my pride's stolen\nIf I ain't got my heat, then I got a blade\nThat can get you off me in so many ways\n\n'Cause I was raised up to show no fear\nCowardly hearts'll never last long here\nIf you ain't man up to make shit clear\nGuaranteed you'll get blown away\n'Cause I done seen the block break down tears\nAnd I done seen the cops break my peers\nTryna hold on a couple more years\nTryin' not to get blown away\nI keep my eye out for Jakes, ears to the streets\nOther eye out for snakes and these scandalous freaks\nIf we ain't on good terms, don't bother to speak\nDon't smile and try to spark a convo with me\nSame thing make you laugh will make you cry\nFuck around and let this quiet nigga here take your life\nHate for it to be you the world sacrifice\nSo somebody else could travel through the tunnel of life\n'Cause I'm that type of guy\nI'll be there when you're ridin', but I stay to myself\nSo if you see me out there with a bear and we fightin'\nNigga, then go help the bear\n\n'Cause I was raised up to show no fear\nCowardly hearts'll never last long here\nIf you ain't man up to make shit clear\nGuaranteed you'll get blown away\n'Cause I done seen the block break down tears\nAnd I done seen the cops break my peers\nTryna hold on a couple more years\nTryin' not to get blown away"}
{"text":"7 ContributorsHypnotized Lyrics\nHoola lalala hoola lalala\nHoola lalala lalalala\nHoola lalala hoola lalala\nHoola lalala\n\nOh, I wanna be with you\nOh, I know you want me too\n\nSo can I get a toot toot for the lovers tonight\nToot toot love when it's just right?\nToot toot, it's about to go down\nSo here we go, here we go now\n\nWhy you gotta feel so right?\nWhy you gotta, why you gotta leave me open wide?\nLove it when you love me right\nWhy you gotta, why you gotta take over my mind?\nEvery time, why you gotta take over my mind?\nEvery time, why you gotta leave me hypnotized?\nHoola lalala hoola lalala\nHoola lalala lalalala\nHoola lalala hoola lalala\nHoola lalala\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nOh, you got me in your palms (hands)\nBut I want, want you in my arms, yeah\n\nSo can I get a toot toot for the lovers tonight\nToot toot love when it's just right?\nToot toot, it's about to go down\nSo here we go, here we go now\n\nWhy you gotta feel so right?\nWhy you gotta, why you gotta leave me open wide?\nLove it when you love me right\nWhy you gotta, why you gotta take over my mind?\nEvery time, why you gotta take over my mind?\nEvery time, why you gotta leave me hypnotized?\nHoola lalala hoola lalala\nHoola lalala lalalala\nHoola lalala hoola lalala\nHoola lalala\n\nYou got my mind, girl, spinning 'round and 'round\nYou got it spinning\nSo far away, girl, where it can't be found\nJust go and admit\nToot toot for the lovers tonight\nToot toot love when it's just right?\nToot toot, it's about to go down\nSo here we go, here we go now\n\nWhy you gotta feel so right?\nWhy you gotta, why you gotta leave me open wide?\nLove it when you love me right\nWhy you gotta, why you gotta take over my mind?\nEvery time, why you gotta take over my mind?\nEvery time, why you gotta leave me hypnotized?\nHoola lalala hoola lalala\nHoola lalala lalalala\nHoola lalala hoola lalala\nHoola lalalaEmbed"}
{"text":"9 ContributorsGhetto (Arab Remix) Lyrics\nFrom Senegal to Damsko\nConvict\nAkon, Ali B and Yes-R\nRemix\nInternational remix\nOh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh\n\nThis goes out to my tatta's in the ghetto\nMy Turkoes in the ghetto\nMy Mocro's in the ghetto (Ghetto)\n'Cause this goes out to the Anti's in the ghetto\nMaluku's in the ghetto\nThe Joego's in the ghetto (Ghetto)\nGhetto living\n\nThese streets remind me of quicksand (Quicksand)\nWhen you're on it you'll keep goin' down (Goin' down)\nAnd there's no one to hold on to\nAnd there's no one to pull you out\nYou keep on fallin' (Fallin')\nNo one can hear you callin'\nSo you end up self-destructing\nOn the corner with the tuli on the waistline\nJust got outta the bing doin' state time\nTeeth marks on my back from the K9\nDark memories of when there was no sunshine\n'Cause they said that I wouldn't make it (I remember like yesterday)\nHoldin' on to what God gave me\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nThis goes out to my tatta's in the ghetto\nMy Turkoes in the ghetto\nMy Mocro's in the ghetto (Ghetto)\n'Cause this goes out to the Anti's in the ghetto\nMaluku's in the ghetto\nThe Joego's in the ghetto (Ghetto)\nGhetto living\n\nYo, snap het niet, je verdriet is diep van binnen\nJe wil wel opnieuw beginnen (Oh, oh)\nMaar je wordt geconfronteerd (Look out for the scotoe)\nEn je ziet van die dingen, je broertje gearresteerd (And dont get locked up)\nJe vader zakt zachtjes neer, je moeder die kan niet meer\nHet doet je zeer, je dropt een traan en kijkt uit het raam\nHet is alsof je wijk getroffen is door een orkaan (Oh-oh)\nOveral liggen vuilniszakken, er lopen ratten (Yeah)\nJunkies die elkaar om een bolletje willen klappen (Ghetto)\nPolitie rijdt voorbij en ziet iedereen als verdachte\nIn een keiharde wereld is er geen ruimte voor een zwarte (It's so hard)\nSurvival of the fittest, hoeveel heb je in petto? (No time for fatoes)\nIs de eeuwenoude vraag als je leeft in de ghetto ('Cause we're sole survivors)\n\nWhoever said that this struggle would stop today\nA lot of niggas dead or locked away\nTeenage women growing up with aids\n'Cause that's the life when you're living in the ghetto\nOr eatin' in the ghetto\nOr sleepin' in the ghetto (Ghetto)\nThat's the life when you're living in the ghetto\nOr eatin' in the ghetto\nOr sleepin' in the ghetto (Ghetto)\nGhetto living\n\nMachakil ki taba3ouk ma 3endak lin gha temchi\nBiyen lemhabbes fel barrio makayen had li ghadi\nY3awnek yqollek hdi balek, teqder t3eddel chi fdiha\nTeqder tewqe3lk f dqiqa, rah hta wahed fih tiqa\nWa nteq sme3 lmoussiqa, f wahed tomobile jdida\nChrajem mahlouline chi drari fihoum el ghira\nTab3ouk chebrouk derbouk dawlik deniero\nDik sa3 teht b laryah, w sme3t sawt d bombero\nHerqolk siyyara, saybo 3liha gazolina\nMa kayn ghi lhayha fel mdina\nKatesme3 ghi lghawt del walida meskina\nKa tchouf waldha ghadi yekber f had zbel\nLa kounti saken fel ghetto, ma 3endekch lmoustaqbal\n\nThis goes out to my tatta's in the ghetto\nMy Turkoes in the ghetto\nMy Mocro's in the ghetto (Ghetto)\n'Cause this goes out to the Anti's in the ghetto\nMaluku's in the ghetto\nThe Joego's in the ghetto (Ghetto)\nGhetto livingEmbed"}
{"text":"4 ContributorsLonely (Old Version) (Dirty) Lyrics\nLonely, I'm Mr. Lonely\nI have nobody\nFor my owwnnn\nI'm so lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely\nI have nobody\nFor my owwnnn\nI'm so lonely\n\nYo, this one here\nGoes out to all my players out there, man\nYa know, that got that one good girl, dog\nThat's always been there, man\nLike, took all the bullshit\nThen one day she can't take it no more and decides to leave\n\nYeah, I woke up in the middle of the night\nAnd I noticed my girl wasn't by my side\nCoulda sworn I was dreamin, for her I was feenin\nSo I had to take a little ride\nBack tracking on these few years\nTrynna figure out what I do to make it go bad\nCause ever since my girl left me\nMy whole life came crashin' and I'm so\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nLonely (so lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (to call my own) girl\nI'm so lonely (so lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (to call my own) girl\nI'm so lonely\n\nCan't believe I had a girl like you\nAnd I just let you walk right out of my life\nAfter all I put you through\nYou still stuck around and stayed by my side\nWhat really hurt me is I broke your heart\nBaby you a good girl and I had no right\nI really wanna make things right cause\nWithout you in my life girl I'm so\n\n\nBeen all about the world ain't never met a girl\nThat can take the things that you been through\nNever thought the day would come\nWhere you would get up and run\nAnd I would be out chasing you\nCause ain't nowhere in the globe I'd rather be\nAin't no one on the globe I'd rather see\nThan the girl of my dreams that made me be\nSo happy but now so lonely\n\nNever thought that I'd be alone (be alone)\nI didn't think you'd be gone this long (gone so long)\nI just want you to call my phone\nSo stop playing girl and come on home (come on home)\nBaby girl I didn't mean to shout\nI want me and you to work it out (work it out, baby)\nI never wished I'd ever hurt my baby\nAnd it's drivin me crazy cause I'm so\n\n\nSo lonely, (lonely)\nSo lonely, (so lonely)\nMr. Lonely, (lonely)\nSo lonely, (so lonely)\nSo lonely, (lonely)\nSo lonely, (so lonely)\nSo lonely\nMr. Lonely"}
{"text":"14 ContributorsNever Took the Time Lyrics\nA moment ago it seemed, it was yesterday\nYou were here with me\nAnd everything seems to be the same\nWhat am I supposed to do\nWith all these empty rooms?\nSit here in solitude\nWith the smell of your perfume\n\nYou never took the time to know me\nYou never took the time to understand\nYou never took the time to know me, yeah\n\u2018Cause loving you is all I ever had\nSaid loving you is all I ever had\n\nThis wasn't what I wanted to be\nA man in misery\nGirl, I look back a thousand times\nAnd can't believe that you left me\n(Why you leave me, baby?)\nWhy can't you understand my pain?\nHow can I explain?\nGirl, I don't know what I'm doing wrong\nI can't believe that your love is gone\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\n\u2018Cause you never took the time to know me\n(Said you never took the time to know me)\nYou never took the time to understand (ohhhhh yeah)\nSaid you never took the time to know me\n(Said you never took the time to know me)\nSee, loving you is all I ever had (had, I had)\nBaby, loving you is all I ever had\n\n\nOoh yeah, you're all I need\nYou're all I see\nAnd I wish that we could do it again\n\n\u2018Cause you never took the time to know me\n(Baby, you never took the time to know me)\nYou never took the time to understand\n(Ohh-ohh-ohh, ohhh, yeah)\nSaid you never took the time to know me, yeah (ohhh)\nBecause of you, now I'm just a lonely man (ohh)\nBecause of you, now I'm just a lonely man"}
{"text":"20 ContributorsLocked Up (French Remix) Lyrics\nJ'me suis fait coffrer comme un naze, en gard'av' comme un troph\u00e9e\nJ'd\u00e9ambule en ien-ch dans ma cellule\nN\u00e9gro j'repense au S\u00e9n\u00e9gal, \u00e0 l'\u00eele de Gor\u00e9e\n41 balles pour un contr\u00f4le, le roi de la pop d\u00e9color\u00e9\nTout l'monde y est allergique\nCertains craquent, tremblent, certains se coupent les veines,certains s'pendent pour \u00eatre \u00e0 l'air libre\nBosser pour survivre, dealer pour vivre\nPour que tu kiffes sur l'habillage, que ta biatch kiffe l'\u00e9quipe\nLa rue t'attends la rue te regarde\nDans mes r\u00eaves y a que des putes, h\u00e9licopt\u00e8res \u00e9chelles grenades\nS\u00fbr d'aller en cal\u00e8che, d'y faire un p'tit stage\nC'est pas du ma-nec', la taule les halls les tours de man\u00e8ges\nCertains figurent dans le Guinness pour leurs aller-retours\nPremier sa-medi du mois ton A.D.N. dans un Kleenex\nSinon dans ma cellule, j'fais des pompes j'\u00e9cris des textes, j'taf\nEt sur les murs j'ai des photos d'tass'\n\nI'm steady trynna find a motive\nWhy do what I do ?\nThe freedom ain't gettin' no closer\nNo matter how far I go\nMy car is stolen, no registration\nCops patrollin', and now they done stop me\nAnd I get locked up\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nThey won't let me out, they won't let me out\nI'm locked up\nThey won't let me out no, they won't let me out\nI'm locked up\nThey won't let me out, they won't let me out\nI'm locked up\nThey won't let me out no, they won't let me out\n\nHeadin' uptown to re-up\nBack with a couple keys\nThe corner block's on fire\nUndercovers dressed as fiends\nMakin' so much money\nRide up smooth and fast\nPut away the stash\nAnd as I sold the last bag fucked around\nAnd got locked up\n\nThey won't let me out, they won't let me out\nMy nigga I'm locked up\nThey won't let me out no, they won't let me out\nI got locked up\nThey won't let me out, they won't let me out\nBaby girl I'm locked up\nThey won't let me out no, they won't let me out\nSur terre, j'ai p\u00fb compter sur ma parole, la drogue et la daronne\n745i, 9.2. izi\nTous les chemins m\u00e8nent \u00e0 Rome ou \u00e0 Washington\nSisi j'enfile un passe-montagne, d\u00e9mons et anges m'accompagnent\nT'es dans le coffre de la bagnole, tu payes sans faire d'chichis\nMoi j'suis \u00e0 Cuba, sirote un sky \u00e0 la piscine\nUn peu de biff la rue est bleu ciel\nPrises 22 voil\u00e0 les kissd\u00e9s, le crime paie jusqu'\u00e0 la perquis'\n\nCause visitation no longer comes by\nSeems like they forgot about me\nCommissary is getting empty\nMy cellmates getting food without me\nCan't wait to get out and move forward with my life\nGot a family that loves me and wants me to do right\nBut instead I'm here locked up\n\nThey won't let me out, they won't let me out\nOh I'm locked up\nThey won't let me out no, they won't let me out\nMy nigga I'm locked up\nThey won't let me out, they won't let me out\nI'm locked up\nThey won't let me out , they won't let me out\nCause I'm locked up"}
{"text":"2 ContributorsLonely (Remix) LyricsLonely I am Mr. Lonely\nI have nobody\nFor my owwnnn\nI'm so Lonely, I'm Mr. Lonely\nI have nobody\nFor my owwnnn\nI'm so Lonely\nHey Yo, Arcangel Pa\nYo, this one here goes out to all my players out there man. (Nana)\nYa kno that got that one good girl dog that's always been (Nananana)\nThere man like took all the bullshit then one day she can't (Nana)\nTake it no more and decides to leave (Nananana)\nYeah, I woke up in the middle of the night\nAnd I noticed my girl wasn't by my side\nCoulda sworn I was dreamin\nFor her I was feinin\nSo I had ta take a little ride\nBack tracking on these few years\nTryna figure out wat I do to make it go bad\nCause ever since my girl left me\nMy whole life came crashin and I'm so...\nLonely (so lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (to call my own girl)\nI'm so lonely (so lonely)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Mr. Lonely)\nI have nobody (I have nobody)\nFor my own (to call my own girl)\nI'm so lonely\nY yo pienso en ti dia a dia\nSin ti mi alma esta vacia\nAhora yo comprendo lo que tu sentias\nAhora se lo que mi nena sufria\nY oye duele saber que tu que perder\nPara aprender en el futuro saber mantener\nUna relacion que me lleno de querer\nLonely (Solo)\nI'm Mr. Lonely (Muy Solo)\nI have nobody (No tengo nada)\nFor my own (Si no estas)\nI'm so lonely (Solo)\nI'm mr. Lonely (Muy Solo)\nI have nobody (No tengo nada)\nFor my own (Si no estas)\nI'm so lonely\nSolo\nSolo\nMuy solo\nNo tengo nada\nSi no estas\nSolo\nMuy Solo\nNo tengo nada si no estas\nAracangel Pa\nCon sentimiento\nAkon\nShadow\nCalidad musical\nDemasiado sentimeinto dedicado en especialmente\nA todas esas personas que han sufrido por amor\nMe entiendes\nYo se que yo no soy el unico\nPero recuerda algo\nQue estoy solo si tu no estas\nMe siento solo\nMe siento solo\nI'm so lonely\nI'm mr. Lonely\nI have nobody\nFor my own\nI'm so lonely\nI'm Mr. Lonely I have nobody\nFor my own\nI'm so lonelySee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also likeEmbed"}
{"text":"9 ContributorsKeep You Much Longer Lyrics\nWish I could keep you much longer\nI know you gotta go cause you got things to do\nWish I could keep you much longer\nNow you too busy for me girl, like I was to you\n\nWish I could stop by and maybe say \"hi\"\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\nWish I could just stop by and maybe say \"hi\"\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\n\nThe tables have turned\nAnd I've finally learned\nThat this is making up for every day I was gone\nAnd that's why I'm concerned\nBut now it's confirmed\nThat you spread your wings and learned to fly but all alone\n\nDarkness in the night, I'll find that light for you\nAs long as I got eyes, I'll have a sight for you\nLong as I'm alive baby, I'd die for you, wanna be with you\n\nWish I could keep you much longer\nI know you gotta go 'cause you got things to do\nWish I could keep you much longer\nNow you too busy for me girl, like I was to you\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nWish I could stop by and maybe say \"Hi\"\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\nWish I could just stop by and maybe say \"Hi\"\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\n\nYou're always on my mind, while I'm racin'\nWhile I'm paper chasin'\nYou were there when I said one day I'd get up out that basement\nPlayin' as my agent\nFor you there's no replacement\nYou will always be my girl, you can hold me on that statement\n\nDarkness in the night, I'll find that light for you\nAs long as I got eyes, I'll have a sight for you\nLong as I'm alive, baby, I'd die for you, wanna be with you\n\nWish I could keep you much longer\nI know you gotta go 'cause you got things to do\nWish I could keep you much longer\nNow you too busy for me girl, like I was to you\n\nWish I could stop by and maybe say \"Hi\"\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\nWish I could just stop by and maybe say \"Hi\"\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\nBaby, I know you and how we do\nDoing exactly what I taught you\nGotta get that money first before you\nCome spend that precious time with your boo\nAnd know I gotta just take it\nEven though it's drivin' me crazy\nAlways want to see my girl make it (Ooh, yeah)\n\nWish I could keep you much longer\nI know you gotta go 'cause you got things to do\nWish I could keep you much longer (I wish, I wish I could keep you so much longer)\nNow you too busy for me girl, like I was to you\n\nWish I could stop by and maybe say \"Hi\"\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\nWish I could just stop by and maybe say \"Hi\"\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\n\nWish I could keep you much longer (Wish I could keep you, baby)\nI know you gotta go 'cause you got things to do\nWish I could keep you much longer (Wish I could keep you, baby)\nNow you too busy for me girl, like I was to you\nWish I could stop by and maybe say \"Hi\" (I just wanna keep you longer...)\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\nWish I could just stop by and maybe say \"Hi\" (I just wanna keep you longer...)\nWish I could just stop by and lay by your side\n\nI just wanna keep you longer...\nI just wanna keep you longer..."}
{"text":"7 ContributorsTime Is Money Lyrics\nThis Big Meech from the richest black muthafucking gang in the world\nMy nigga always say, there's only two things a nigga can do for you\nYou either got time or money, can't have em both\nNigga with money, ain't got no time\nNigga with time, ain't got no money\nWe don't have a lot of time around here - cause time is money\n\nGive me one minute, cause you tripping\nToo much time on your hands, you slipping\nWhy you focused on all this dealing?\nWhen niggas coming in through the back door stealing?\nCrib on the hill: now that's good living\nHarder to reach when you make your first million\nSo much money gotta stack to the ceiling\nAnd I'mma keep doing this forever, God-willing\nReal niggas like me don't catch feelings\nOnly broke niggas be out there grilling\nSay you getting money but you ain't even tipping\nA big-booty girl in front of you dipping\nFronting like you really doing all that shipping\nMayne you gotta be, gotta be kidding\nDon't even try cause my weapon is hidden\nMy nigga is ready to do some killing\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nI'mma tell you just one time: give me what's mine\nCause I don't have time to waste\nI'll be on my grind, money on my mind\nAnd I don't stop getting paid\nLiving this life of mine\nI don't know if you really got what it takes\nHustling's in my blood: just won't go away\nTime, money, time, money\nNigga with money, don't have no time\nNigga with time, don't have no money\n\nKon Live in one year, made millions\nEverybody got money: nigga, we chillin\nAin't got no time: it's some bad feelings\nEspecially when you want a little sexual healing\nGirlfriend's pulling, family's pulling\nIn every direction, everybody need money\nMy lifestyle redefine how y'all living\nIf you keep it up I'll be broke in a minute\nMy kinfolk's on the block and they dealing\nAll my goons are still out there killing\nMan I be running, got no time to be skipping\nI'm trying to hit a home run in the 9th inning\nMy bitch locked up, for a killing\nTaking care of mine, San Quen chilling\nThat's my homie, you can trust that nigga\nJust a matter of time before I get back with him\n\nI don't know about you but I'mma ride for mine\nEveryday I'm out here trying to grind\nIf I ain't got a 9 to 5 I'mma still get it\nEven if I gotta live a life of crime\nClock's ticking but it's not a bomb\nEvery minute passed is a dollar sign\nBut there's money, no matter how much money you make\nNone of that shit will really buy you time\nI am on the block still hustling crack\nIf Babylon shoot, we busting back\nWar on the streets, don't trust the police\nIn other words: we really don't fuck with cops\nCame my way from the bottom of the block\nWhere the good die young and the crime won't stop\nSomeway, still make it to the top\nTime is money, so now it's back to this Glock\n"}
{"text":"16 ContributorsTranslationsEnglishRomanizationChammak Challo Lyrics\nGirl, you're my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b\nWhere you go, girl, I'm gonna follow\nWhat you want, girl, just let me know\nYou can be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b\nShawty, I'm gonna get ya\nYou know I'm gonna get ya\nYou know I'll even let ya\nLet ya be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b\n\n\u0915\u0948\u0938\u093e \u0936\u0930\u094d\u092e\u093e\u0928\u093e, \u0906\u091c\u093e \u0928\u091a\u0915\u0947 \u0926\u093f\u0916\u093e \u0926\u0947\n\u0906 \u092e\u0947\u0930\u0940 \u0939\u094b\u0932\u0947, \u0906\u091c\u093e \u092a\u0930\u0926\u093e \u0917\u093f\u0930\u093e \u0926\u0947\n\u0906 \u092e\u0947\u0930\u0940 \u0906\u0916\u093f\u092f\u094b\u0902 \u0938\u0947 \u0905\u0901\u0916\u093f\u092f\u093e\u0901 \u092e\u093f\u0932\u093e \u0932\u0947\n\u0906 \u0924\u0942 \u0928\u093e \u0928\u0916\u0930\u0947 \u0926\u093f\u0916\u093e\n\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\n\n\u0924\u0942 \u092e\u0947\u0930\u0940 \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b\n\u0924\u0947\u0930\u0940 picture \u0915\u093e \u092e\u0948\u0902 hero\nGive it to me, girl, \u092e\u0941\u091d\u0915\u094b \u0926\u0947 \u0926\u094b\nYou can be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b\nShawty, I'm gonna let ya\nYou know I'm gonna let ya\nYou know I'll even let ya be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915, \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\n\u0915\u0948\u0938\u093e \u0936\u0930\u094d\u092e\u093e\u0928\u093e, \u0906\u091c\u093e \u0928\u091a\u0915\u0947 \u0926\u093f\u0916\u093e \u0926\u0947\n\u0906 \u092e\u0947\u0930\u0940 \u0939\u094b\u0932\u0947, \u0906\u091c\u093e \u092a\u0930\u0926\u093e \u0917\u093f\u0930\u093e \u0926\u0947\n\u0906 \u092e\u0947\u0930\u0940 \u0906\u0916\u093f\u092f\u094b\u0902 \u0938\u0947 \u0905\u0901\u0916\u093f\u092f\u093e\u0901 \u092e\u093f\u0932\u093e \u0932\u0947\n\u0906 \u0924\u0942 \u0928\u093e \u0928\u0916\u0930\u0947 \u0926\u093f\u0916\u093e\n\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\n\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\n\n\u0b89\u0ba9\u0bcd\u0ba9\u0bc8 \u0ba4\u0bca\u0b9f\u0bcd\u0b9f \u0b8e\u0ba9\u0bcd \u0b89\u0bb3\u0bcd\u0bb3\u0ba4\u0bcd\u0ba4\u0bc8 \u0ba8\u0bca\u0bb1\u0bc1\u0b95\u0bcd\u0b95 \u0bae\u0bbe\u0b9f\u0bcd\u0b9f\u0bbf\u0baf\u0bcb\n\u0b8e\u0ba9\u0bcd\u0ba9\u0bc8\u0baa\u0bcd \u0baa\u0bcb\u0bb2 \u0baa\u0bc6\u0ba3\u0bcd\u0ba3\u0bc8 \u0baa\u0bbe\u0bb0\u0bcd\u0ba4\u0bcd\u0ba4\u0bc1 \u0bae\u0baf\u0b99\u0bcd\u0b95 \u0bae\u0bbe\u0b9f\u0bcd\u0b9f\u0bbf\u0baf\u0bcb\n\u0b95\u0ba3\u0bcd\u0ba3\u0bbf\u0bb2\u0bcd \u0b95\u0ba3\u0bcd\u0ba3\u0bc8 \u0baa\u0bc2\u0b9f\u0bcd\u0b9f\u0bbf \u0bb5\u0bbf\u0b9f\u0bcd\u0b9f\u0bbe\u0bb2\u0bcd \u0b9a\u0bbf\u0bb0\u0bbf\u0b95\u0bcd\u0b95 \u0bae\u0bbe\u0b9f\u0bcd\u0b9f\u0bbf\u0baf\u0bcb\n\u0b8e\u0ba9\u0bcd\u0ba9\u0bc8 \u0b89\u0ba9\u0bcd\u0ba9\u0bbf\u0bb2\u0bcd \u0b9a\u0bc2\u0b9f\u0bbf \u0bb5\u0bbf\u0b9f\u0bcd\u0b9f\u0bbe\u0bb2\u0bcd \u0b92\u0b9f\u0bcd\u0b9f\u0bbf\u0b95\u0bcd\u0b95 \u0bae\u0bbe\u0b9f\u0bcd\u0b9f\u0bbf\u0baf\u0bcb\n\u0915\u0948\u0938\u093e \u0936\u0930\u094d\u092e\u093e\u0928\u093e, \u0924\u0941\u091d\u0947 \u0928\u093e\u091a\u0915\u0947 \u0926\u093f\u0916\u093e \u0926\u0942\u0901\n\u0906 \u092e\u0947\u0930\u0940 \u0939\u094b\u0932\u0947, \u0906\u091c\u093e \u092a\u0930\u0926\u093e \u0917\u093f\u0930\u093e \u0926\u0942\u0901\n\u0906 \u0924\u0941\u091d\u0947 \u0905\u0902\u0916\u093f\u092f\u094b\u0902 \u092e\u0947\u0902 \u0905\u092a\u0928\u0947 \u092c\u0938\u093e \u0932\u0942\u0902\n\u0906 \u0924\u0942 \u0928\u093e \u0928\u0916\u0930\u0947 \u0926\u093f\u0916\u093e\n\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\nWanna be my \u091b\u092e\u094d\u092e\u0915 \u091b\u0932\u094d\u0932\u094b?\n\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh\nOh, oh"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsMake Me Feel Lyrics\nEasy as that?\nThought I'd take her home and\nBring her right back, bro\nI felt for her\nI felt\n\nI was like, two-seater, \"Hello, can I meet her?\"\nKnow that she was gold from the first time I've seen her\nI was like, Mamacita\nCooler than a freezer\nCome and pop that body right here on me, no meter\n\nShe was there right, wasn't hard to read her\nIn the middle of the night, watch out with Khalifa\nThen I saw that apple bum, it was bigger than Vanita'\nI never leave a man down, had to go retrieve her\n\nYou say that we may be the one\nWe love hard and fight like we're done\nBut you know how to make me feel\nYou know how to make me feel\nCan't lose you, this thing ain't no lie\nWhile you mine forever will try\nBut you know how to make me feel\nYou know how to make me feel\n(Sexy, sexy)\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nOne hunnid, let's keep it one hunnid\n'Cause when it's time to throw it back\nShe knows to return it\nAnd when it's time to throw a stack, she waiting to burn it\nThe question's that's she's coming back, 'cause she know I own it\n\nYou know that\nYou know that\nYou know that she bad\nYou know that\nYou know that\nYou know that she's that\nShe gave me what I wanted\nWhile all these niggas own it\nBut she only had eyes for me\n\nYou say that we may be the one\nWe love hard and fight like we're done\nBut you know how to make me feel\nYou know how to make me feel\nCan't lose you, this thing ain't no lie\nWhile you mine forever will try\nBut you know how to make me feel\nYou know how to make me feel\nYou know how, you know how\nBad bitches taught you, taught you\nYou know how (You know how, you know how)\nBad bitches taught you (Taught you, taught you)\nYou know how, yeah, 'cause I done taught you, nigga\nFuck around and I might deport you with her\nLast time you started frontin', I fought you, nigga\nNext time, I'ma pull out and torch you with her\nOf course you with her, in the Porsche, you with her\nFuck I look like nigga? Of course she bitter\n'Cause you know how I put it on, you know how I do it long\nRide it like a unicorn, schoolgirl uniform\nAss clap, not ass cap\nBut I got him writing songs for my ass, clap\nPussy pop, pat-pat\nIt don't get no bigger, it's at its max fat\nWe love hard, we fight like we done\nGet my gun, that bitch better run\nBut I'm cooking up and it's deep-fried\nWith my G-string in your G5\nIt's blood gang, I'm a G, five\n\nYou say that we may be the one\nWe love hard and fight like we're done\nBut you know how to make me feel\nYou know how to make me feel\nCan't lose you, this thing ain't no lie\nWhile you mine forever will try\nBut you know how to make me feel\nYou know how to make me feel\nYou say that we may be the one\nWe love hard and fight like we're done\nBut you know how to make me feel\nYou know how to make me feel\nCan't lose you, this thing ain't no lie\nWhile you mine forever will try\nBut you know how to make me feel\nYou know how to make me feel"}
{"text":"2 ContributorsWarrior Lyrics\nI was running away from myself\nHad a barrel inside of my head\nI was lying awake in my bed\nThinking 'bout all the things I should have said\n\nBut now I'm stronger, I'm so much stronger\nNo more running, not any longer\nAnd now I'm stronger, and finally I can say\nThat I'm not afraid, yeah\n\nI'm gonna break the silence\nCut like a laser through the dark\nI'm gonna light a fire\nCause I'm not afraid, no\nI'm gonna fight the triads\nThey are no chains around my heart\nI'm gonna light a fire\nCause I'm not afraid\nI'm a warrior, oh mama, I'm not afraid\nI'm a warrior, oh mama, don't be afraid, I'm not afraid\n\nWish that you could be here with me now\nI've overcome the demons inside, yeah\nI keep hearing your voice late at night\nTelling me, gotta fight for your right\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nBut now I'm stronger, I'm so much stronger\nNo more running, not any longer\nAnd now I'm stronger, and finally I can say\nThat I'm not afraid, yeah\n\nI'm gonna break the silence\nCut like a laser through the dark\nI'm gonna light a fire\nCause I'm not afraid, no\nI'm gonna fight the triads\nThey are no chains around my heart\nI'm gonna light a fire\nCause I'm not afraid\nI'm a warrior, oh mama, I'm not afraid\nI'm a warrior, oh mama, don't be afraid\n\nNo, they can't hold me down\nSeen it rising up from the ground\nNo, they can't hold me down\nSeen it rising up from the ground\nCan't hold me down\nCan't hold me down\nCan't hold me down\nCan't hold me down\nI'm a warrior, oh mama, I'm not afraid\nI'm a warrior, oh mama, don't be afraid\nI'm a warrior, oh mama, I'm not afraid\nI'm a warrior, oh mama, don't be afraid"}
{"text":"1 ContributorLook Me In My Eyes Lyrics(feat. Blast)\nHook :\nHey girl\nI see you standin next to him\nAnd i can tell you ain't happy...\nYou rather be on the side of the club\nBallin' out with a niggah like me...\nI can see you imaginin' those thoughts in your head\nBy the way your staring'...\nI'll help your fantasies come true\nAll you gotta do is look me in my eyes\nLook me in my eyes(5x)\nIll take you to that place\nAll i ask is look me in my eyes\nLook me in my eyes(3x)\nBaby look me in my eyes(1x)\nVerse 1 :\nWhat it do mama they call me young blast\nAnd i couldn't help but stop soon as i roll past yah...\nI see your pretty face,you ain't supposed to frown\nThen whose your man,anywaise im gonna hold you down...\nAnd i dont brag but he ain't fly like me\nHe ain't loyal,by your side,down to ride like me...\nNow look around ain't no guys like me\nYou can look into my eyes and see\nIm a playa for real...\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also likeChorus :\nLook me in my eyes(5x)\nIll take you to that place\nAll i ask is look me in my eyes\nLook me in my eyes(3x)\nBaby look me in my eyes(1x)\nVerse 2 :\nI see you peepin' mama\nYou know im watchin' you...\nCan tell you want me\nSo tell me whats from stopping you...\nIm all the things that your man can't be\nDown to do it all, fulfill your fantasy...\nI need a freak down in late night creek\nHop up in the coupe,then we cruise throught the streets...\nRide to the telly then its straight to the suite\nTurn the lights low and then its straight to the sheets...\nYour man bumpin you dont need that mess\nAll i need is one night let me ease that stress...\nHere runnin' game ma' i ain't got a lot of you\nAkon sing the hook tell her what she gotta do\n(chorus 1x)\nVerse 3 :\nSo what i gotta do to take you home?\nWe ballin' out in the club buyin' shots of patrone...\nRake you to that place where we can escape,alone\nTurn of the side-kicks,two-ways and phones...\nSo whats it gon' be?\nIts either him or me...\nWhen you ready shorty ill be in the v.i.p\nWe livin' good baby rollin' in cash\nChunk your man a deuce tell him that your rollin with blastEmbed"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsNever Gonna Get it Lyrics\nWuh!\nYeh, uh\n\nI'm from the hard knock academy, automatically had to be\nCarryin' automatics, sprayin' sporadic, inaccurate (Wuh)\nClips to the back of it, barrel cockin' immaculate\nLearn to move packages in and out of Los Angeles\nWe savages, bustin' off rounds, sprayin' banana clips\nKnockin pounds off 'em like Anna Nicole Smith\nShit, I'm in the hood, walkin' with choppers\nCockin' and poppin' at coppers, Glocks be talkin' like\nBlockedie block, block\nI probably popped Hoffa and possibly just forgot where I tossed 'em (Huh)\nThis nigga's obnoxious, me and Top got your bitch in the cockpit\nShe want a pit stop, just see how the cock spit\nThese bosses deposit the profit, they watch as we cop it\nOn top of the ostrich and foxes (That's right)\nI used to be a little bastard of stress (Ey)\nNow I'mma boss where I'm from (Ey)\nWith Alaska on my chest (Yes!)\n\nSee I know you'll like my swagger (Oh)\nNo strap when I come through (Through)\nChain hangin' like Ali Baba (Oh)\nKnow me, ya' know how I do (Do)\nThe way that I move, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it)\nCause I'm too smooth, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it)\nI thought you knew, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it)\nBut you ain't got a clue, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it, get it, get it)\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nWho in the hell left the gate open? (That's wrong)\nI put it down for the wild, wild west\nLike the 1800s in 'em stage coaches\nIf I ain't strapped then my blade's pokin'\nIf it ain't a 600 big body, then the '64, honey, is spokin'\nThe drama spokesman, streets endorsed 'em (Aha)\nI rather be opening up my nine, then closed in my coffin\n(I'm from) I'm from West Covina, this ain't Compton\nStill money passed around like we takin' a offerin'\nI'm somethin' like a phenomenon\nWhen they see the sad happy faces, they know the drama's on\nIt's the west coast back at your front door (Back)\nWe up close and personal, we ain't done till the curtains close (Aha)\nCould be friend or foe, love it or hate it\nI'm the king but I play with the aces (Hahaha)\nRun up to find out I keep it loaded like bases (Ey)\nGet wise and your mouth and knees (Ey) need braces (Hey!)\n\nSee I know you'll like my swagger (Oh)\nNo strap when I come through (Through)\nChain hangin' like Ali Baba (Oh)\nKnow me, ya' know how I do (Do)\nThe way that I move, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it)\nCause I'm too smooth, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it)\nI thought you knew, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it)\nBut you ain't got a clue, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it, get it, get it)\nSee when I walk through the door\nI wonder why these fake niggas jackin' me for?\nOn display, like I came from the store, you know\nI'm posin' like a mannequin in front of your hoe (Wu-uh)\nUp front block runnin' 50 deep now (Wu-uh)\nConvicts surroundin' the whole compound (Wu-uh)\nCause you don't really want what you're starin' at\nClip full of bullets, don't mind sharin' that (That)\n\nSee I know you'll like my swagger (Oh)\nNo strap when I come through (Through)\nChain hangin' like Ali Baba (Oh)\nKnow me, ya' know how I do (Do)\nThe way that I move, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it)\nCause I'm too smooth, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it)\nI thought you knew, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it)\nBut you ain't got a clue, nigga\n(Ya' never gon' get it, get it, get it)"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsTroublemaker Lyrics\nMost stared up in the club, just swagging doing my thang\nPopping bottles with models and just watching them drank\nPartying so hard, the ladies don't want it to end\nThey looked at me and said\n\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker (I said)\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker (I said)\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker (I said)\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\n\nSee, I'm that type of guy you won't love\nI'm that type of guy you won't cuff\nI'm that type of guy your daddy won't let you go out\nCause he thinks I sell drugs\nI'm that type of guy that will save ya\nI'm that type that will call you later\nWon't be around to give you that time\nGotta get on the grind and get to that paper\nThat I can do\nGotta keep my baby girl laced in the latest and the fliest suits\nNever one for none, let's stay caked up, hold it down, that's all you gotta do\nThen I walk up in the place, with a pocket full of money, my brother like I are the dude\nStepping out with the finest suits, look at me now\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nMost stared up in the club, just swagging doing my thang\nPopping bottles with models and just watching them drank\nPartying so hard, the ladies don't want it to end\nThey looked at me and said\n\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\n\nSee I'm that type of guy that like kissing\nI'm that type that will pop the clip and\nI'm that type of guy that put you in your place\nIf your bougie just start tripping\nI'm that type that will let you go\nI'm that type that will let you know\nThat everywhere I go I can find a pretty ho\nBut there ain't too many know how to get that dough\nThat's the type of girl I want around me\nEven though I'm a with her, make a man feel free\nRoll with the fellas, even hold my cheese\nLook like something you would see on TV\nShe don't mind climbing up that ladder\nSimilar to the words, it don't matter\nBut this time they wanna see us together\nLook at us now\nMost stared up in the club, just swagging doing my thang\nPopping bottles with models and just watching them drank\nPartying so hard, the ladies don't want it to end\nThey looked at me and said\n\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\n\nYou're not for sure\nEven though I wanna take you everywhere I go\nBecause of you, all the girls is staring, taking notes\nAnd I realize being with you girls bring more girls\nAnd that's just what I'm attracted to\nAnd I'd rather go all the way\nLove her long time, till the break of day\nI won't let her ever leave my bed\nTill she sees the color purple like Anna Mae\nNow she wants to start holding on me, like whatever she's smoking on\nI'll be long gone before you can say, \"Look at me now\"\nMost stared up in the club, just swagging doing my thang\nPopping bottles with models and just watching them drank\nPartying so hard, the ladies don't want it to end\nThey looked at me and said\n\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker\nI heard that you're a heartbreaker\nBaby I'm a troublemaker"}
{"text":"10 ContributorsHolla Holla Lyrics\nHolla holla, at you girl\nHolla holla, at you girl\nHolla holla, at you girl (yeah)\nAkon (Holla holla)\nAnd T-Pain (Holla holla)\nYou need to quit it, ohh\nGirl you need to quit it\n\nSo many girls outside\nAnd I wanna go take a cruise\nAnd I know you a sex machine\nAnd I wanna do summin' new to you\nThe way you roll them thighs\nAnd your girl doin' it too\nIf you want we can mix it up\nI could set it up, she can get it too\nWe got plenty of drinks', plenty plenty of water\nWe got plenty of things comin' from Cal-ifornia\nAnd we all got that bank so believe we can afford this\nSo stop, playin' and show me what you can do\nAnd don't be actin' like that (like that) I know you wanna ride\nCause my Lamborghini doors go up and down\nNow all these gorillas' here, all these women here\nSomebody here gon' fuck\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nThat's why I'm tryna holla holla (holla holla) holla holla (holla holla)\nHolla holla (holla holla) holla holla (holla holla)\nI'm tryna holla holla (holla holla) holla holla (holla holla)\nLet me holla at you girl\n\nI gotta big truck outside, and it sittin' on twentysixes\nI'mma bout to step out my ride, with about twenty\nAnd they all like girls, so they all be kissin'\nThat's why I'm tryna put you in this, girl\nWhile I'm up in this club, gotta get my groove on\nIf you wanna roll with a nigga, go with a nigga\nTry to get a move on\nAnd I hope that you like girls\nCause I wanna see you kissin'\nAnd now I'm tryna put you in my world\nSo don't be actin' like that (like that)\nI know you wanna ride\nCause my Lamborghini doors go up (and down)\n(Now all these gorillas' here, all these women here)\nSomebody here gon' fuck\n\nThat's why I'm tryna holla holla (holla holla) holla holla (holla holla)\nHolla holla (holla holla) holla holla (holla holla)\nI'm tryna holla holla (holla holla) holla holla (holla holla)\nLet me holla at you girl\nOh, shawty, said you want a player with money\nSo why you actin' funny with me?\nI ain't tryin' to prove nothin' to you\nShawty I'm tryna do summin' to you, yeah\n\nShawty, Uh, I'm tryna holla holla\nHe just a roll of pennies, I'm a stack of dollars\nI'm tryna see what you gon' do\nCause baby I'm, tryna leave here with you\nNow don't be\n\nActin' like that (like that) I know you wanna ride\nCause my Lamborghini (doors) go up (and down)\nNow all these gorillas and, all these women here\nSomebody here gon' fuck\n\nThat's why I'm tryna holla holla (holla holla) holla holla (holla holla)\nHolla holla (holla holla) holla holla (holla holla)\nI'm tryna holla holla (holla holla) holla holla (holla holla)\nLet me holla at you girl"}
{"text":"13 ContributorsOnce in a While Lyrics\nI can see it, it's funny, man\n\u2018Cause this life is not going nowhere\nAnd you gon' see it\nWherever there's struggle, knahmean?\nOnce in a while I could look at you\nI see my pain in yo' eyes, man\nSo I know you feeling me\nAnd see the twinkle in your eyes\nIt's that twinkle, man\nThat sign of struggle, I've seen it in me\n\n\u2018Cause everyday I can't help but see it\nThat people ain't satisfied\nAnd you're hating your 9 to 5\nAnd e'rybody wanna live another life\nBut ain't no length you go or mountain you climb\nNot to better your days\nBut all that would do is leave room for people to say\n\"I guess you're living better now\nShare a little of that cheddar now\"\n\u2018Cause I remember days back when\nA brother was hustling and robbing too\nI done tossed the Beretta now\nOn a whole another level now\nStill I can't enjoy my fame\nUnless my people doing the same and get money too\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nOnce in a while I could look at you\nOoh, once in a while\nAnd see the twinkle in your eyes\nAnd I can see that you don't ever wanna struggle no more\nStruggle no more\nOnce in a while I could look at you\nOoh yeah\nAnd see the twinkle in your eyes\nAnd I can see that you don't ever wanna cry no more\n\n\u2018Cause every time you ask me, I'm grindin'\nIt shouldn't have to be that way\nYou shouldn't have to pay my way\nI shouldn't have to want for a brighter day\nGot a little little problem on the way\nBounty hunters checking state to state\nChild support lady on your case\nNot to mention tickets you ain't never paid\n\"Oh what must I do?\" is what you'll be asking\nGod, please hold it down for me\nDon't let Satan get ahold of me\nI'm tryin' to tell you, it can happen to me too\nBut it happened a lot worse to my brother\nMuhammad, I thank God he recovered, yeah\n w\/ variations + ad libs\nOnce in a while I could look at you\nOnce in a while I\nSee the twinkle in your eyes\nAnd I can see that you don't ever wanna struggle no more\nAnd I could see that twinkle\nOnce in a while I could look at you\nLook in your eyes\nAnd I can see that you don't ever wanna cry no more\nOnce in a while I could look at you\n\n\u2018Cause I see your pain now (Ooh yeah)\n\u2018Cause I see your pain now (Ooh yeah)\nAnd I can feel you strain now\nAnd I can see you cryin'\nAnd inside you're dyin'\nYou're no longer the same now (\u2018Cause you got to)\nBut you gotta maintain now\n\nOnce in a while I could look at you\nOoh, once in a while\nAnd see the twinkle in your eyes\nAnd I can see that you don't ever wanna struggle no more\nStruggle no more\nOnce in a while I could look at you\nOoh yeah\nAnd see the twinkle in your eyes\nAnd I can see that you don't ever wanna cry no more\nOoh yeah, ooh yeah\nOoh yeah, ooh yeah\nOoh yeah, ooh yeah"}
{"text":"6 ContributorsBirthmark Lyrics\nYeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah\n\nI made the mark on February 1st\nBetween me and you, you can call it birth\nThe beginning of our universe\nRemind me of Alicia Keys verse\nI'm falling for you\nI wish I had an opportunity to not do\nWhat I did to hurt you\nAnd now I'm here living with regrets\nI know that it was my fault\nI know that I got caught\nSo please don't lose your thoughts\nOf me loving you and you loving me\nI'm on the highway swerving\nI ain't drunk but I'm about to hit the curb'n\nLooking at the calendar getting nervous\nJust a few more days to the first soul\n\nThis the day it all began\nOne place that it came together\nMore than a ring or a tattoo\nWish your birthmark that reminds me of you\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also likeSo let's get on an airplane\nGo back to where we began\nTo that point which is days apart\nThat stamp right next to your heart\n\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart\n\nGet the calendar, go to August 3rd\nFirst words stay, we heard our first words\nFirst argument gotta let it go\nCause it could possibly affect what our future holds\nFlipping pages now famous\nThinking back I ain't seen you in ages\nWishing that I coulda made it less painless\nBrings me back right back to the same as\nI know that it was my fault\nI know that I got caught\nSo please don't lose your thoughts\nOf me loving you and you loving me\nI'm on the highway swerving\nI ain't drunk but I'm about to hit the curb'n\nLooking at the calendar getting nervous\nJust a few more days to the first soul\nThis the day it all began\nOne place that it came together\nMore than a ring or a tattoo\nWish your birthmark that reminds me of you\nSo let's get on an airplane\nGo back to where we began\nTo that point which is days apart\nThat stamp right next to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart\nJanuary, February, March, April, May\nJune, July, August is just another day\nSeptember, October, November trying to find a way\nIn December to mark my calendar to meet again\nIf only we can go to that place where me and you know\nThere's no faith fronting cheating even lying\nThe time has come where we stand face to face\nThis the day it all began\nOne place that it came together\nMore than a ring or a tattoo\nWish your birthmark that reminds of you\nSo let's get on an airplane\nGo back to where we began\nTo that point which is days apart\nThat stamp right next to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart\nThat stamp right next to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart, to your heart\nTo your heart\nThat stamp right next to your heart"}
{"text":"8 ContributorsClap Again Lyrics\nI'm like a bird and I am so high\nIn my lair looking at the blue sky\nCan't let another day pass by\nWithout you knowing what I feel inside\nCause it's embedded in my soul\nThe day I stop will be the day I turn cold\nLet you know I'm breaking out of that hole\nAnd let go\n\nSo I can be free, to do what means most to me\nAnd you can look back one day\nAnd know I shared with you my gift\nI hope you wouldn't think I just leave\nPack up and roll up my sleeve\nGive it all up and live for nothing to take with me all I got to give\n\nThats why\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nSo if your life is twisted and ain't going right\nLet's forget about it tonight\nI just wanna make you happy baby\nDancing and clapping (dancing and clapping)\nCause we plan to be here till the morning light\nCan you feel the change in your life?\nAin't it feeling like magic baby?\nI'm the one that make it happen baby\n\nSo you can be free, to do what was meant to be\nAnd you can look back one day\nAnd know I shared with you my gift\nWould you think I just leave?\nPack up and roll up my sleeve\nGive it all up and live for nothing to take with me all I got to give\n\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\n\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again\nI just want to make you clap again\nJust clap again"}
{"text":"6 ContributorsKeep On Callin\u2019 Lyrics\nYou know\nCheck\nIt's Akon man, my man P\nIt's the magic city baby\nYo I think we got one on this one\nSo all them haters, wanna scream my name?\n(Let them keep on calling)\nAnd they wouldn't support us before but wanna scream now? (Let them keep on calling)\nWe gonna let them just keep on calling baby, just keep calling (So keep on calling)\nAnd for our supporters, you know you can just keep calling as long as you want (Keep on calling)\nI used to be up on the corner all day\nTryin' to figure out whats gonna get me out there\nDope dealing and hugging the block\nI done found out ain't gonna get me nowhere\nUsed to keep a nine milli for protection\nJust in case a nigga wanna take my bread\nThen the voice came down from the sky and said...Akon use your head..\nI had to re-evaluate my thoughts and think about what Got me this far, (This far)\nHad to keep a strong faith and believing, know one day I'd be a star (A star)\nBut I knew that it wouldn't come easy (Come easy)\nSeen a whole lotta hate and believe me (Believe me)\nDespite all the bullshit we had to still work hard, to get to where we are\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nSo when you hear them calling out \"Akon\", let them keep on calling\nWhen you hear the world calling out \"P-money\", let them keep on calling\nCause we went through hell and back to get here, so keep on calling\nLet me hear you now, let me hear you now, let me hear you just keep on calling\nSenegal West Africa to New Zealand (New Zealand)\nBlessed to have the gift to make music with meaning (With meaning)\nCause I never thought i'd come this far, with a mansion and a fancy car\nNever thought success would come this quick in the beggining ( but I seen it)\nAnd all along I'm sitting there thinking that its harder when you came from the hood (Came from the hood)\nWhen all I had to do was put my mind to it, and realise that it was all good (It was all good)\nCause once i got rid of what held me down, best believe I won't be turning back\nI had to keep on moving and to keep on grooving right here on this P-Money track\nAnd so\nWhen you hear them calling out \"Akon\" Let them keep on calling\nWhen you hear the world calling out \"P-Money\" Let them keep on calling\nCause we went through hell and back to get here, so keep on calling\nLet me hear you now, let me hear you now, let me hear you just keep on calling\nKeep on calling, keep on calling, just keep on calling, keep on calling\nJust keep on calling, keep on calling, just keep on calling, keep on calling\nWhen you hear them calling out \"Akon\" Let them keep on calling\nWhen you hear the world calling out \"P-Money\" Let them keep on calling\nCause we went through hell and back to get here, so keep on calling\nLet me hear you now, let me hear you now, let me hear you just keep on callingEmbed"}
{"text":"9 ContributorsKeep Up Lyrics\nMy nigga, I\u2019m a beast!\nI can go thirty days and nights with no sleep\nLike the mice in the streets\nThe only meal that I see every day is my cheese\nI don\u2019t think you can keep up\nKeep up, hey, keep up, hey!\nI don\u2019t think you can keep up\nKeep up, hey, keep up, hey!\nI don\u2019t think you can keep up!\n\nCause when I\u2019m riding in your lane, getting it poppin simple and plain\nKonvict model, no pain no gain\nEverybody blowing up like they done drank propane\nI slide through the hood, the game unchanged\nMy niggas on the corner still selling cocaine\nNow I ain\u2019t even tripping you should do the same thing\nTil I got the opportunity to make some more change\nI\u2019m watching all these haters getting close to my fame\nOnly if they know what it takes to maintain\nIf you live by the bar then we raised it\nI was built to do this thing daily\n\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nUsed to hang out on the curb\nNow I\u2019m living lavish in the 'burbs\nWomen used to never pay attention when I flirt\nNow they see me out in public, steady ripping up my shirt\nIt\u2019s funny how the tables turn and out there\nNo longer sitting in the coupe handing out birds\nCollecting all this money from different parts of the world\nFlown up out of this loop, gotta see me first\nCause I sacrificed it all to be me\nYou ain\u2019t got enough what it takes to beat me\nConditioned by the slums and raised by the streets\nI've killed for this life it takes another soldier\n\nBecause in my field, only the strong will survive, yeah\nAnd if you\u2019re as hard as steel, then you and I will collide, yeah\nWe gon' rush at each other like two rams fighting in the grass land, yeah!\nAnd i\u2019ma be the last man standing!\n\nMy nigga I'm a beast (x3)"}
{"text":"7 ContributorsPot of Gold Lyrics\nOhhh yeah\nDada, dodo\nDada, dodo\nDada, dodo\nAkon\n\nLife come and go\nSo let the history be told\nWe're all out here\nHustlin' to make our way\nAnd while you're stumblin' and fallin' (Stumblin' and fallin')\nWhy don't you pick yourself up now (Pick yourself up now)\nYou see we all out here\nWorking day by day\n\nSo tell me\nHow can we work it out\nOn that day when its time to share the gold at the end of the rainbow\nHow can we work it out\nWhen good and evil meet\nThe day you kiss his feet\n'Cause it will soon come\nSee Akon LiveGet tickets as low as $42You might also like\nYou soon lose track of which way is up when your always being put down (Being put down)\nYou gotta be strong and do what you feel in your heart\nRegardless of who's around (Regardless of who's around)\nI know it might seem bold\nBut thats all we have (All we have)\nMany centuries and we're steady gettin' old\nBut you know to what we never had\nSooo\n\nHow can we work it out\nOn that day when its time to share the gold at the end of the rainbow\n(How can we) How can we work it out (How can we)\nWhen good and evil meet\nThe day you kiss his feet\nCause it will soon come\nHow can we work it out\nOn that day when its time to share the gold at the end of the rainbow (Share the gold)\nHow can we work it out\nWhen good and evil meet\nThe day you kiss his feet\nCause it will soon come\nHow can we work it out (Dada)\nDodo (How can we work it out)\nHow can we work it out (Dada)\nDodo ohhhh (Dada)\nHow can we work it out (Dodo)\nDa the How can we work it out (Dodo)\n(everybody sing along with me)\nHow can we work it out\nOn that day when its time to share the gold at the end of the rainbow (that pot of gold)\nHow can we work it out\nWhen good and evil meet\nThe day you kiss his feet\nCause it will soon come (yeah)\nHow can we work it out\nOn that day when its time to share the gold at the end of the rainbow (that pot of gold)\nHow can we work it out\nWhen good and evil meet\nThe day you kiss his feet\nCause it will soon come (soon come)\nHow can we work it out (work it out, work it out, work it out...)"}
{"text":"79 ContributorsCome Down Lyrics\nWhen you see Jerusalem\nHow your heart will sing\nThey are with a blessing only God can bring\nY'all niggas got me hot, yuh\nUh, niggas, tell me how, yuh, yuh, say\n\nHey! Well, that's exactly what a nigga came for\nHuh, you throwin' shots from afar\nI'ma meet you at your front door\nUh, so hard to be doing what you really meant for, beauty\nHuh, but don't I make it look easy?\nDon't I make it look good?\n\nHey, now you drank up all my liquor, come on\nWhat I'm 'posed to do now?\nAnd you talking all that shit, now come on\nYou gon' have to back it up, hey\nIf I get too high now, sugar, come on\nI might never come down\nYou might not ever come down\nNaw, let me get down\nYou might not ever come down\nNaw-naw-naw, let me get down\nYou might not ever come down\nLet me get down!\nYou might also like\nYou might never ever come down\nIt took too long to get this high off the ground\nDon't run, just stay awhile\n\nC'mon, uh\nCan't beat it, can't beat it, can't beat it\nCan't beat it with a big bat, though\nCan't see her with these pitch black Gucci frames on\nLet me take these bitches off\nLet me get the full scope, hold up\nHuh, full screen, HD, let me take another picture\nLet me pull it to the pre-show\nWhoa, cool beans, cool beans\nThat's a whole lot of reefer\nLet me help you with the pre-roll\n\nYou drank up all my liquor, come on\nWhat I'm 'posed to do now?\nAnd you talking all that shit, now come on\nYou gon' have to back it up\nIf I get too high now, sugar, come on\nI might never come down\nYou might not ever come down\nNaw-naw-naw, let me get down\nYou might not ever come down\nNow let me get down\nYou might not never come down\nNaw, let me get down!\nYou might never ever come down\nIt took too long to get this high off the ground\nDon't run, just stay awhile\nYou might never ever come down\nIt took too long to get this high off the ground\nDon't run, just stay awhile\n\nBefore Vietnam, when boards were long and hair were short, the center of the surfing world was a place called Malibu"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsHeart Don\u2019t Stand a Chance Lyrics\nOoh, champagne pourin' down\nArms, legs wrapped around you\nOoh, champagne, let it fall down\nArms, legs keep grabbing\n\nSee, I be catchin' you starin', be careful\nThe idle mind is a dangerous place to be left in\nBut keep your eyes on me\nYeah, your heart don't stand a chance\nIt feels like it's been far too long\nYour knees can't hold your legs\nYour feet just want to pace\nThe eyes keep me all in a trance\nLet me ask you\nWould you leave it all in the back of your head\nOr all in the palm of my hand, huh?\nAin't nobody holding you back\nDon't it feel like it's been far too long, girl?\nYour heart don't stand a chance\nYour knees just want to break\nYour eyes keep me all in a trance\nAnd let me ask you, mmm\nI know the approach is so far from what you're used to\nBut you know it\nAnd do I hold a candle to the last one over your moon?\nBaby, of course I do\nAnd I'm not closing my tab\nDon't it feel like it's been far too long, girl?\nHuh, your heart don't stand a chance\nYou might also like\nOoh, champagne pourin' down\nArms, legs wrapped around you\nOoh, champagne, let it fall down\nArms, legs keep grabbing\n\nYeah, yeah, two-step in the corridor\nSpinning the greatest hits of Hall & Oates\nOpen of chronic smoke\nI know my time will flee\nBut your heart don't stand a chance, uh\nIt feels like it's been far too long, hmm\nThe moment is all that we have\nMy meter should be up by the half\nA ticket is the least of my cares\nSo let me ask you, uh\nAm I dreaming?\nMind on the tip of a cloud\nOr is it real as the stone in your crown?\nSay, ain't nobody towing my Jag, uh\nDon't it feel like it's been far too long, girl, huh?\nYour heart don't stand a chance\nI'm waiting for the white flag\nYou're talking with the blunt in your hand\nAnd won't you pass that, huh?\nI know in the morning\nThe sunlight cover your wounds, huh\nBut I'm hoping that I look the same as the way you always knew\nBaby, of course, I flew\nBut I'm not over what we had, huh\nDon't it feel like it's been far too long, girl, uh?\nYour heart don't stand a chance\nOoh, champagne pourin' down\nArms, legs wrapped around you\nOoh, champagne, let it fall down\nArms, legs keep grabbing\nI remember being tumbled around and not being able to get to the surface where the air was\nAnd looking down and seeing my body spinning around in the white water"}
{"text":"82 ContributorsBubblin Lyrics\nLook at you go\nOkay, you bubblin'\nLook, go, go\nLook at you go\nOkay, you bubblin', look\n\nYeah, one in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin'\nLook at the cash, look at the cash comin' in\nCome get your mans, this lil' nigga buggin' me\nJust leave the bag, quit all that jaw-jackery\nDon't even pass me that, I don't want none of it (Yeah)\nThese niggas mad about it, had enough of it\nWoah, watch what you sayin', all that poppin' and shakin'\nGot me hot as a laser, my posse deep and irate\nAnd we act a fool for the paper, had a dream and I made it\nEl Camino on Dayton's, Vintage Guess over Bape\nPut the bread on me, bitch, bitch, you bet I'ma bank it\nPiggy flat in a blanket, I might just roll out today\nI might just roll out to Vegas, head back to my old ways\nCop a room full of Asian hoes and do blow all day\nLook at me, baby, look at me, baby\nDon't I look like a million? I'm 'bout to clean out the safe\nD-don't I look like somebody that just be bodyin' everything?\nAll that talkin' is great but I don't be talkin', I air it out\nAll the problems have gotten easy to bury\nI'd rather drown them in Hendrick's, I'd rather kiss on my Mary\nI been broker way longer than I been rich so until it levels out\nI'ma take your mama to the Marriott and wear it out\nTook me so long to get it, go on and spread it out\nLet 'em know all about me when I'm dead and gone (woah)\nYou might also like\nOne in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)\nOne in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)\nLook at the cash, look at the cash bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')\nLook at the cash (look) bubblin' (go)\nOne in the hand (look), one in the hand (go)\nOne in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)\nLook at the cash, look at the cash bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')\nLook at the cash (look) bubblin'\n\nI'ma need all the fries you can give me\nAll the hot sauce, all the pie you can give me\nBetter be all or nothin', don't have me in the middle\nYou better be all you can, get higher than the limit, yeah\nSimplify for the Dumbos, plenty slides, I can shuffle\nHit the cadence with my young bitch, Isaac Hayes, Billy Ocean\nBought the old hoe with the cane stick, left my slippers at the function\nIt's hard to run in Gucci slides\nChick, I thought you said you didn't have a husband\nI'm a stud, no cuckold, Jackie Chan, no trouble\nCan't clean it with a bib, blood drippin' from the cutthroats\nNo Lord, not me, I can never be the one you wanna stunt for\nMoney, money, that machine gun sprayed the Ferragamo store\nR.I.P to times that I was broke, after life in 911 Porsche\nMatte black lookin' clean, dead prezies in an envelope\nCookin up canard, waitin' for the antidote\nRunnin' out of time, patience thinner than a pantyhose\n\"Get over here and empty your pockets.\"\n\"I don't do that.\"\n\"You're my prisoner\u2014you do what I tell you to do\u2014get over here.\"\n\"Haha, he's gonna get nasty about it!\"\n\"Fuckin' bitch!\"\n\"Frank! Cool it, huh?\"\n\"Stay the fuck outta this!\"\n\nOne in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)\nOne in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)\nLook at the cash, look at the cash bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')\nLook at the cash (look) bubblin' (go)\nOne in the hand (look), one in the hand (go)\nOne in the hand, one in the bag, bubblin' (look at you go)\nLook at the cash, look at the cash, bubblin' (okay, you bubblin')\nLook at the cash (look) bubblin'"}
{"text":"55 ContributorsThe Bird Lyrics\nA bird with the word came to me\nThe sweetness of a honeycomb tree\nAnd now I look what's taking over me\nCouldn't fake it if I wanted to\nI had to wake up just to make it through\nI got my patience and I'm making do\nI learned my lessons from the ancient roots\nI choose to follow what the greatest do\nA bird with the word came to me\nThe sweetness of a honeycomb tree\nAnd now I look what's taking over me\nCouldn't fake it if I wanted to\nI had to wake up just to make it through\nI got my patience and I'm making do\nI learned my lessons from the ancient roots\nI choose to follow what the greatest do\n\nI'm repping for the longest cycle, mmm\nMy uncles had to pay the cost, mmm\nMy sister used to sing to Whitney, mmm\nMy mama caught the gambling bug, mmm\nWe came up in a lonely castle, mmm\nMy papa was behind them bars, mmm\nWe never had to want for nothing, mmm\nSaid, all we ever need is love, mmm\nWe see the same things\nWe sing the same songs\nWe feel the same grief\nBleed the same blood\nYou grew up in the home beside me\nI always had a friend to call\nHow could I make it here without you? Mmm\nI pray I leave before you're gone\nYou might also like\nThe bird with the word came to me\nThe sweetness of a honeycomb tree\nAnd now I look what's taking over me\nCouldn't fake it if I wanted to\nI had to wake up just to make it through\nI got my patience and I'm making do\nI learned my lessons from the ancient roots\nI choose to follow what the greatest do\nA bird with the word came to me\nThe sweetness of a honeycomb tree\nAnd now my luck was taking over me\nCouldn't fake it if I wanted to\nI had to wake up just to make it through\nI got my patience and I'm making do\nI learned my lessons from the ancient roots\nI choose to follow what the greatest do\n\nHey, my little youth is crying\nI'm almost home, almost home\nLook, no further riots, mmm\nWorking my fingers to the bone\nSee, I do the best I can, mmm\nMama was a farmer, mmm\nPapa was a goner, mmm"}
{"text":"70 ContributorsAm I Wrong Lyrics\nWhy lie?\nWhy lie, yeah\n\nI'm only comin' out to play\nNothin' more that I hate in this life\nThe wrong impression, I only have one to make\nYou can open your palm, waiting to catch a break\nThe cards will fall where they may\nAnd what about me?\nI believe in fate, huh\nThey wanna know where I'll be in five, huh\nBut, what about today? What about tonight?\n\nOnly one at a time\nSo precious, it's yours, it's mine\nOnly one at a time\nMy life, my life, yeah\n\nAm I wrong to assume\nIf she can't dance, then she can't ooh, yeah?\nAm I wrong to say\nIf she can't dance, then she can't ooh?\nYou might also like\nHey, I never wanna waste your time, my life\nSo precious, it's yours, it's mine\nAnd look at the time, my God\nSo precious, it's yours, it's mine\n\nOnly one at a time\nSo precious, it's yours, it's mine\nOnly one at a time\nMy life, my life, yeah\nSmiles around the clock\nDance around the globe to Disco 54\nI stare at you in the eyes and spin you on your toes\nMusic ain't music without soul\nFeelin' the top row\nShut the blindfolds, pass the nitro\nRock the love boat, get high to get low\nChill the Merlot, steady your fast pour\nYou pick up, we go low\nMake love once or more, we rest then encore\nDo-do that-that-that, hey\nBreak you off in your Kit-Kat-Kat, hey\nNever seen one this gorgeous\nPay your whole damn mortgage\nWill you look at the time, hey?\nStill you the one on the mind, hey\nStill you the top of the rhyme, hey\nThank God that it's Friday\nTonight, let's be the life of the party\nIt's nothing to me\nGet up and move your feet, ah!\nI never wanna waste your time, my life\nSo precious, it's yours, it's mine\nAnd look at the time, my God\nSo precious, it's yours, it's mine\n\nHey, I never wanna waste your time, my life\nSo precious, it's yours, it's mine\nAnd look at the time, my God\nSo precious, it's yours, it's mine"}
{"text":"85 ContributorsThe Season \/ Carry Me Lyrics\n\nMy faith is buried somewhere underneath the town\n(Until it\u2019s paid for)\nStrawberry season, my sweetheart is coming \u2018round\n(I hear it rain and pour)\nHow did you find me here? It must be perfect timing\n(Forever grateful)\nIf I didn\u2019t love you then, I damn sure love you now\n(Fruit of your labor)\n\nSay, ain\u2019t shit change but the bank statements\nSpent the summer in the wave with the beach babies\nThrew your chula in the buggie\nWith the top down up the PCH\nI\u2019m heading north, I hope it doesn't rain\nWent from playing community ball to balling with the majors\n(Oh, what, you major?)\nYeah, nigga, I ran bases, pitch flame\nI call plays, remove labels\nAnd fuck fame, that killed all my favorite entertainers\n(Nothing short of amazing, ooh, yeah)\nBut I\u2019m short on my patience\nSay, I don\u2019t play that shit, I don\u2019t ever forget\nAnd don\u2019t forget that dot, nigga, you paid for it\nI spent years being called out my name\nLiving under my greatness\nBut what don\u2019t kill me is motivation\nYou might also like\nMy faith is buried somewhere underneath the town\n(Until it\u2019s paid for)\nStrawberry season, my sweetheart is coming \u2018round\n(I hear it rain and pour)\nHow did you find me here? It must be perfect timing\n(Forever grateful)\nIf I didn\u2019t love you then, I damn sure love you now\n(Fruit of your labor)\n\n\nYeah, say, yeah\n\nSix years old, I tried my first pair of Jordans on\n(\"Momma, can you carry me?\")\nIt was late in the fall\nI caught a glimpse of my first love, my God\n(\"Momma, can you carry me?\")\nKnees hit the floor, screams to the Lord\nWhy they had to take my ma? (\"Momma, carry me?\")\nTo the early morn' (\"Momma, can you carry me?\")\nTo the early morning (\"Momma, can you carry me?\")\nHey, hey, hey, gather round, hustlers, that's if ya still livin'\nAnd get on down before the judge give the sentence\nA few more rounds before the feds come and get you\nIs you gon' smile when your date gets issued?\nYou know them feds taking pictures\nYour mom\u2019s in prison, your father need a new kidney\nYou family\u2019s splitting, rivalries between siblings\nIf cash ain\u2019t king, it's damn sure the incentive\nAnd good riddance\n\n\"Is the element of danger an important factor for the members of your peer group?\"\n\"Yes, you might say that. Why don\u2019t you give it a try and find out for yourself?\"\n\n'Bout the year Drizzy and Cole dropped\nBefore K.Dot had it locked\nI was sleeping on the floor, newborn baby boy\nTryna get my money pot so wifey wouldn\u2019t get deported\nCursing the heavens, falling out of orbit\nTryna roll this seven, tryna up my portion\nWhat about your goals? What about your leverage?\nSo they don\u2019t force you into some hole\nWhat\u2019s the meaning of my fortune reading?\nWhen I crack the cookie, all it said was \u201ckeep dreaming\u201d\nWhen I look at my tree, I see leaves missing\nGenerations of harsh living and addiction\nI came to visit during the seven-year stint\nBut they wouldn\u2019t let me in because my license suspended\nNow I\u2019m scraping the pennies just to kiss you on your cheek\nIt\u2019s gonna be a couple weeks before I get it\nI know you miss me\nSix years old, I tried my first pair of Jordans on\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\nIt was late in the fall\nI caught a glimpse of my first love, my God\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\nKnees hit the floor, screams to the Lord\nWhy they had to take my ma? (Momma, carry me)\nTo the early morn' (Momma, can you carry me?)\nTo the early morning (Momma, can you carry me?)\n\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\n\nYeah, oh, oh, oh\nAnd one of these is my rise\nOne of these is my downfall\nAnd I\u2019m the one to make it right\nI wanna make it right, momma\nAnd one of these is my rise\nOne of these is my downfall\nAnd I\u2019m the one to make it right\nI wanna make it right, momma\nI wanna make it right\n\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\nTo the early morning\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\nTo the early morning\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\nOh, lord\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\n(Momma, can you carry me?)\nI, uh, see here they call you a masochist\nI like pain\nCan you be specific? What kind of pain do you like?\nAny kind of pain"}
{"text":"I been feelin' kinda cooped up, cooped up\nI\u2019m tryna get some fresh air\nHey, why you got the roof off, roof off?\nYou know it never rains here\nHey, you ain't gotta flash when you takin' your picture\nYou ain\u2019t gotta draw no extra attention\nPaparazzi wanna shoot ya, shoot ya\nNiggas dyin' for less out here\n\nI been in my bag, adding weight\nTryna throw a bag in a safe\nGiggin', tourin', chorin', raisin' babes\nBaby Milo wants some Bathing Apes\nNiggas crying for less out here\nDo what I gotta do bruh, do bruh\nGet up in my rear view mirror\n\nI can't be ridin' round and round that open strip\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nI can\u2019t be flying down that 110 with a bad bitch in my whip\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nAnd it\u2019s no good for me, it's so good for them\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nI got way too much to lose, so roll your window up real quick\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nYou might also like\nYou probably think a nigga trollin\u2019 (Like)\nOr showin' out for the cameras (Right)\nFuck I'm doin' fish-bowlin\u2019? ('Side)\nOne hunnid thou' on the passenger\nBitch, I'm Kendrick Lamar, respect me from afar\nI was made in His image, you call me a god\nEverybody in attendance, I'm about to perform\nEverybody get offended by the shit I got on\nLike, can you buy that, nigga?\nNine hundred horse, can you drive that, nigga?\nA G5, can you fly that, nigga?\nI need tints so I can look at the snakes and posers\n(I need tint) 'Cause bomb head is non-disclosure\n(I need tint) So I can live with a peace of mind\nWithout niggas takin' a piece of mine\nAnd peace be still and not do fines, so fuck a fix-it ticket\nYou pull me over and might see one of your bitches, ahh!\n\nRidin' round and round that open strip\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nI can't be flying down that 110 with a bad bitch in my whip\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nAnd it's no good for me, it's so good for them\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nI got way too much to lose, so roll your window up real quick\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nYou know I like it presidential (Presidential)\nStretch it out, that's a limo (That's a limo)\nPull it over, let me get behind ya ('Hind ya)\nWhere we goin', they don't need to know (Don't need to know)\nGhost ridin' in the Phantom (In the Phantom?)\nNiggas never see me comin' (Uh, superstar)\nShe wanna hold me like a ransom (Uh, bitch, I don't know you)\nBut the money keep me runnin' (Uh, but the money)\n\nI been in my bag, adding weight\nTryna throw a bag in a safe\nGiggin', tourin', chorin', raisin' babes\nBaby Milo wants some Bathing Apes\nNiggas crying for less out here\nDo what I gotta do bruh, do bruh\nGet up in my rear view mirror\n\nRidin' round and round that open strip\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nI can't be flying down that 110 with a bad bitch in my whip\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nAnd it's no good for me, it's so good for them\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nI got way too much to lose, so roll your window up real quick\nI need tints (Windows tinted)\nI need tints (I need my windows tinted)\nI, I think I'm 'bout to black out\nCan't see me when I act out tonight\nI got some moves I gotta make though\nI got the goons up on the payroll\nThey won't see me coming\nThey won't see me coming, no, no\nI, I think I'm 'bout to black out\nCan't see me when I act out tonight\nI got some moves I gotta make though\nI got the goons up on the payroll\nThey won't see me coming\nThey won't see me coming\n]\n(As soon as I put this on, yeah, ooh)\n(Yeah, as soon as I put this on)\nGod damn, what?\n(Don't fight it, let it live)\nShit, what's up man?\nBubblin'! I see you my nigga!\nOh, thank you bro!\nAy, bro, I don't know if you- anybody ever told you this, you need to start sellin' bubble baths\nAh\nSince you got the song \"Bubblin'\" so it's- bath bombs dawg! It's London, my nigga! You'll really win!\nThat's extra, bro. That's extra. You gotta chill, bro, you gotta chill\nWhatchu mean I gotta chill, bro? Why are you rollin' yo windows up?\nJust be- just be yourself\nBro, lemme get 30 dollars!\nAy, you got some lotion?"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsPut Me Thru Lyrics\nWhy the hell would you run this game?\nBoth my hands are tied\nAfraid of thinking I dug my own grave\nFuck around with this\nStrange and elusive, too afraid to lose it\nI don't mind this pain\nMost niggas want you for your candy\nThey'll never know just how long it takes\nI wave my own pride\nAnd put it all on the line\n\nThere I go, volunteering punishment\nSelf inflicted pain, sickness over used\nWay over used\nHere I stay, hey, time to time\nIt must be what you put me through, ha\nIt must be what you put me through\n\nA little while longer\nA bit more time\nWhy would you run these thoughts across my mind?\nPlease, relieve me\nAs cool as I remain\nThere's a point in which I'll lose my self restraint\nSay, love, most niggas would've left you lonely\nI fancy throwin' it all away\nI see it to my own demise\nHow much longer will I let it ride?\nYou might also like\nThere I go, volunteering punishment\nSelf inflicted pain, sickness over used\nWill I let it ride? (Here I stay)\nHere I stay, time to time\nIt must be what you put me through (Yeah, time to time)\nIt must be what you put me through\n\nHey, it must be (Here I stay, time to time)\nIt must be what you put me through\nIt must be what you put me through"}
{"text":"75 ContributorsTrippy Lyrics\nAh, that's right, doll\nBut everyone wants love\nLove, is the answer, Johnny\nEveryone is lookin' for love, deep love\nA lifetime of deep love, you know?\nI'm lookin' for a shallow half hour, you know?\nDon't you have luck with women?\nI never had luck with women\nI'm no ladies man, I know that, Johnny\nAnd I never got girls when I was a kid in show business either, you know?\nOne girl told me, \"Come on over, there's nobody home\"\nI went over, there was nobody home!\n\nYou and I will always meet somewhere in between\nYou and I will always meet somewhere in between\nSweet Trippy, I'm yours for the gettin'\nTalkin' foolish at the moon, I was gone, 1800, sippin'\nI can't get rid of you, all the places that I used to go and kick it\nAll this weight that I'm liftin', trippy\n\nCome meet me in the middle, right there where you always be\nSomewhere in between, you and I will always meet\nCome meet me in the middle, right there where we always be\nSomewhere in between, you and I will always meet\nCome meet me in the middle (I'll meet you in the middle)\nCome meet me in the middle (Somewhere in between)\nCome meet me in the middle (You and I will always meet)\nRight there where we always be (Somewhere in between)\nYou might also like\nWithout a space I could feel, in the words to define\nPick it up, if you will, heavy weight on my mind\nJust a pretty brown thing wit'cho head in the clouds\nWhy don't you put the round thing in the palm of my hands\nUp enough for the thrill, over over you spill\nOpen up, I could tell\nI could see when it's real\nAnd as soon as I grab a hold of ya, I'ma have to let go of ya\n\nCame down the block, somethin' sick, but it's rented\nI don't give a fuck, bitch, either way, I'm in it\nI ain't gotta prove to you that I got bread\nNiggas talkin' money but be broker than the bed\nThat I slept on back in Mohammed crib\n'Member fuckin' hoes leanin' all to the left?\nDon't know why they rock wit' a nigga, but they did\nDamn sure wasn't the money, maybe it's the kid?\nUsed to have a honey that I loved when we was younger but somehow got disconnected before Facebook got so big\nI used to search her name hopin' we could reconnect\nBut if I sent the message, would she still be on my dick?\nWhen I couldn't find her, had me feelin' mad lame\nMaybe she got married and she changed her last name\nMaybe she just ain't up on the latest of the internet and ain't got into that\nBut give her time, that'll change\nBingo, what do you know?\nYears later (Right), late night after a show we here laid up (Right)\nBrown skin, love how it glow, your hair tied up (Right)\nAsk, \"Is it cool if I smoke?\" Go 'head, light up (Right)\nHigh from your fragrance, I love, you smell purrty (Smells good)\nKnow I got it straight from the mud, my nails dirty (Right)\nIf somehow we both lose touch, I won't lie, ya got me open way too much, I'm gon' find ya\nSweet trippy, you\u2019re lost in the deep end, like water to a fish scale\nLove to watch you swim\nI can't get rid of you, all the places that I used to go and kick it\nAll this weight that I'm liftin', trippy\n\nCome meet me in the middle, right there where you always be\nSomewhere in between, you and I will always meet\nCome meet me in the middle, right there where we always be\nSomewhere in between, you and I will always meet\nCome meet me in the middle (You and I will always be)\nCome meet me in the middle (Somewhere in between)\nCome meet me in the middle (You and I will always meet)\nSomewhere in between\nYou and I will always be"}
{"text":"77 ContributorsCome Home Lyrics\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah, ah-ah\n\nDarlin', I have to be moved from afar\nThe truth is the only thing worth holdin' onto anymore (Anymore)\nUntie me, let me loose from the cord\nI'm so gone, so far, I deserve more (More, I deserve more)\nYeah\n\nI'm beggin' you (I beg)\nI'm beggin' you, please, come home (Please)\nNo one even begs anymore (Come home)\nI'm beggin' you (I beg)\nI'm beggin' you, please, come home (Please)\nNo one even begs anymore (Come home)\n\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah, ah-ah\nYou might also like\nWho should I rest blame upon\nWhen all of the signs are brightly drawn\nAnd point back to your open arms? (Point back to your open arms)\nBack too soon, but I'm here for the last of support\nNo longer bound by a broken heart (Bound by a broken heart)\n\nI'm beggin' you (I beg)\nI'm beggin' you, please, come home (Please)\nNo one even begs anymore (Come home)\nI'm beggin' you (I beg)\nI'm beggin' you, please, come home (Please)\nNo one even begs anymore (Come home)\n\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah, ah-ah\n\nSomewhere in a plane over water\nMy love, my love\nHome base, wifey turn it off before I touch down\nYou're all I need, all of me on my knees\nNormally harmony, bumblebee, hummingbird\nI'm a nerd, study you\nWhat are you, WWF?\nWe fightin', we might need counseling\nPossibly moreso me\nSounds to me frowns'll be grounds to leave\nHounds'll be lookin' for you before you drop a tear, apres diem\nStop pretending that I ain't him\nI ain't them, dim sum dumpling\nI remember when you start dyeing them silver hairs\nAnd start hiding from your age\nI ask, \"Why? How come?\"\nAmazin' how time can run away from us\nI'm no nun, you're no priest, but I promise, hun, you gon' see\nA phenomenon, come with me\nLike it's Ramadan, I don't eat\nLike it's Comic Con, I'm a freak for you (Yeah!)\nI'm begging now, pretty please with cherries on top\nHairy wet twat\nHarriet Tub-man, I don't give up\nAnd if your gut tells you to strut, then strut\nThen I'll hail you a car, but what man won't beg?\nYou know I'm nutmeg\nI will show up on a lil' moped\nWith a lil' puppy, it'll be fluffy\nYou will un-toughen, we can discuss it\nYou know I'm sufferin', I do miss my friend\nI don't like my fin bent up, Tilikum, well, that's ill-informed\nSweet stuff, Willa Wonk', we stuck, Billabong\n'Least at minumum we gon' get along\nPeace and inner calm, geez, it's been a long\nT-I-M-E, um, please, I'm feelin' dumb\nPlease, I'm feelin' dumb\nPlease, I'm feelin' dumb\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah\nOoh, ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh, ah-ah, ah-ah"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsSilicon Valley Lyrics\nYeah, all of that ass you carrying, you gotta be shitting me\nAll of that body that you came with\nBut, where are you mentally?\nI know ya hear it all the time\nBut, you ain't gon' hear from me\nI just wanna focus on them lovelies\nWhat's behind them tig-ol-bitties?\n\nThey say the heart is underneath\nUnderneath the guarded insecurities\nI finally found the key\nUnderneath the garments, that's the double D's\n\nOpen your heart, X spots the mark, baby\nDon't turn around, make an ass out yourself, baby\nOpen your heart\nWhat's behind them tig-ol-bitties?\n\nI don't mind them little bitty berries\nYou my Ju-Ju-Be\nI don't need nothing to distract me\nFrom this connectivity\nYou know I see it all the time\nThe same old shit to me\nI just wanna know what's under\nThat tender titty meat\nYou might also like\nThey say the heart is underneath\nUnderneath the guarded insecurities\nI finally found the key (Yes, I did)\nUnderneath the garments, that's the double D's\n\nOpen your heart, X spots the mark, baby\nDon't turn around, make an ass out yourself, baby\nOpen your heart\nWhat's behind them tig-ol-bitties?\n\nYeah, before you go and pop that bottom, baby\nBefore you go and get butt naked, baby\nI know you got a little bit of baggage, baby\nNever mind, I'ma look past it\nBig cans in the cooler, let me handle it, baby\nTwo jugs, I'ma start grasping you, baby\nSeparation between truth and the fake\nYou can get a new rack for $5K\nYou can get a rapper by Friday\nYou gon' have to replace being cheapskate, just save it\nCan a nigga squeeze or should I just be safe?\n(Yeah, for sure) Tell me what it reads on the expiration date\n(Well, I just got them, should be good for about ten years or so)\nI know you feel the D when a nigga deep in the hole\nBut do you feel the peace when I'm sucking them, baby doll?\n(Can you fuck me already?)\nOpen your heart, baby, X spots the mark, baby\nDon't turn around, make an ass out yourself, baby\nOpen your heart\nWhat's behind them tig-ol-bitties?\nOpen your heart, baby, X spots the mark, baby\nWhat's behind them tig-ol-bitties?\nFor me, I can't live in the Northern Hemisphere\nI must live back, back into time\nWhere all these animals, all this sea life, all the oysters, shellfish, crustaceans, everything is part of the smell\nEverything has come into the focus of the whole experience"}
{"text":"64 ContributorsThe Waters Lyrics\nYes, Lord, yeah\n\nTried to tell niggas, in 2012, nigga\nWorking hand to hand and no avail\nVolume one was too heavy for you frail niggas\nSo I got lean like codeine and pills\nIt's the visionary, in the vintage Chevy\nIt's been a while but, wow, you still care\nFree Nats 'til they pass out obituaries\nIn bold caps, \"your bitch-ass was not there\"\nAnd I can do anything but move backwards\nThe hardest thing is to keep from being distracted\nMy big sister still claiming me on them taxes\nTell Uncle Sam I just need a second to add this\nGave my mama ten racks\nAnd she packed and went to Chumash with it\nQuadruple the worth and give me half of it\nHalf of it I took in the back of the air mattress\nA quarter stash was stashed in a box with the Air Maxes\nThe rest got lost in Saks with my wifey, no BM\nWhack niggas dropping links in my DM\nBad bitches up and down a nigga TL\nI'm glad that you finally made it to the future but you're late\nAnd the price is through the muthafuckin' roof\nIf you want you could wait outside the building\nI ain't takin' no more meetings\nYou might also like\nStepped in the waters\nThe water was cold\nChilled my body\nBut not in my soul\n\nI bring you greetings from the first church of Boom Baptists\nUnited Fellowship of Free Nationals\nResiding pastor is .Paak\nAnd the first lady is a bad bitch\nWith slanted eyelids and thick ass\nSunglasses, Martin Luther King fan for you bitch niggas\nSweating on my Patent Leathers\nPressure turned their feather weight into a Cinderella\nI ain't seen the ground in days since I grew propellers\nWe'll do one better\nWord to the liquor that killed my grandpa liver\nI know you finally look proud, a nigga smiling\nTo every hundred niggas that came and gone missing\nOnly a handful will go the distance\nI swear I seen this shit coming as if I was living up under the plumbing\nWhile niggas was riffing and mumbling 'bout what they could do\nI was cooking gumbo whipping the voodoo\nI was in the jungle running with Zulu's\nWe was looking past the struggle while life was moving so fast\nYou had to be sharp as a Ginsu\nTo the top of the food group\nDoing what I want and how I should, too\nStepped in the waters\nThe water was cold\nChilled my body\nBut it didn't touch my soul\nStepped in the waters\nThe water was cold\nChilled my body\nBut it didn't touch my soul\n\nLadies and gentlemen, the most fantastic race in history\nNicky Door is trying to explain to the crowd\nThat what made this race possible\nIs underneath this hood\nTake a look at this"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsTranslations\u0420\u0443\u0441\u0441\u043a\u0438\u0439Make It Better Lyrics\nHow do you mend when you're worlds apart?\nOoh, carry on\nOoh, from the start\nSomehow, we fell in love, then fell right out of touch\nAnd ooh, that was hard\nBut ooh, here we are\nAnd it\u2019s easier to walk away\nThan to look for what would make you stay\nRemember when we first met?\nWe were havin' so much fun\nSo, now, how can we both forget\nTellin' each other, \"We\u2019re the one\"?\nWe would make love (We would make love)\nAt the drop of a hat\nRemember that? (Yeah)\nI remember you and me (You and me)\nClose as any two can be (Two can be)\nNow we're strangers in the night (In the night)\nAwkward and uptight\n\nOh baby, do you wanna make it better?\nUh, ha, do you wanna stay together?\nHey, if you do, then let's please\nMake some new memories\nYou might also like\nWhen you take somebody for your own\nIt can't survive on history alone\nYeah, meet me at the hotel, motel\nThough we got a room at home\nGo to a place that we don't know so well\nIt be nice, add a lil' spice\nTry some new seduction (You and me)\nShow each other how (Show each other how)\nUh, give each other new instructions\nOn what makes us feel good now\nI just wanna make you feel good now\n(Uh, feel good, don't it? C'mon)\n\nDo you wanna make it better? (Yeah)\n(Just wanna make it right, c\u2019mon)\nDo you wanna stay together? (Uh)\n(I meant when I said it)\nAnd it\u2019s easier to run away\nThan to look for what would make you stay\nDo you wanna make it better?\n(Uh, feel good, don't it? C\u2019mon)\nDo you wanna stay together? (Yeah)\n(Just wanna make it right, c'mon)\nIf you do, then let's please\nMake some new memories\nDo you wanna make it better?\n(Uh, feel good, don't it? C\u2019mon)\nDo you wanna stay together? (Yeah)\nIf you do, then let's please (Just wanna make it right, c'mon)\nMake some new memories\nDo you wanna make it better?\n(Uh, feel good, don't it? C'mon)\nDo you want to stay together? (Yeah)\nIf you do, then let's please (Just wanna make it right, c'mon)\nMake some new memories\nDo you wanna make it better?\nDo you wanna stay together?"}
{"text":"47 ContributorsThe Dreamer Lyrics\nI enjoy some of the old and I enjoy the new\nAnd if I can find a balance between it, that's where I find my satisfaction\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now (Yeah), keep dreaming\n\nI'm on my fifth brew and my rent's due\nSixth and west roof, I can see it all\nHold on to my hand, that's my lil' dude\nLook at Kenzo, swaggin' like his paw\nOne for the occasion and get ya good suit\nFuck your reservation, bitch, I brought 'em all\nLook at where you came from, Californication\nSince a little baby skating in boogie boards and raiding your\nCookie jar, my radio analog, I wanted them\nNikes, mama got me Lugz (And all)\n\nThis one's for all the little dreamers\nAnd the ones who never gave a fuck\nI'm a product of the tube and the free lunch\nLiving room, watching old reruns\nAnd who cares, your daddy couldn't be here?\nMama always kept the cable on\nI'm a product of the tube and the free lunch\nLiving room, watching old reruns\nYou might also like\nOne for the occasion, fuck your reservation\nCall up all the haters, it's official\nCalifornication, ever since a baby\nRadio and the cable, I got the dish, too, and, oh\n\nThis one's for all the little dreamers\nAnd the ones who never gave a fuck\nI'm a product of the tube and the free lunch\nLiving room, watching old reruns\nAnd who cares, your daddy couldn't be here?\nMama always kept the cable on\nI'm a product of the tube and the free lunch\nLiving room, watching old reruns\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nThis one's for all the little dreamers\nI'm a product of the tube and the free lunch\nAnd who cares, your daddy couldn't be here?\nI'm a product of the tube and the free lunch\n\nThis is the music that you gotta feel\nGave you the truth before I got a deal\nNo rabbit in a hat, it ain't no magic, ain't no Copperfield\nMore like a panther, Huey Newton, Bobby Seale\nWord to the free lunch, who knew what we would become?\nWho would be defunct? Which rumours would be debunked?\nYeah, this is the music that you gotta feel\nYeah, gave you the truth before I got a deal\nNo rabbit in a hat, it ain't no magic, ain't no Copperfield\nMore like a panther, Huey Newton, Bobby Seale\nWord to the free lunch, who knew what we would become?\nWho would be defunct? Which rumours would be debunked?\n\nUsed to be scared of all my fears\n'Til I woke up from this nightmare\nNow what become of a dream deferred, now until I leave this earth\nThe music make your speakers burst, I always put my people first\nIt's deep how when I speak, they say I'm preaching like I lead a church\nNo proper opposition, competition gonna need a nurse\nMy job as an artist is making miracles\nTo show you how to struggle poetic and make it lyrical\nCrystallize the thought to make it clear to you\nAnd make the revolution irresistable\nThis one's for all the little dreamers\nAnd the ones who never gave a fuck\nI'm a product of the tube and the free lunch\nLiving room, watching old reruns\nAnd who cares, your daddy couldn't be here?\nMama always kept the cable on\nI'm a product of the tube and the free lunch\nLiving room, watching old reruns\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\nDon't stop now, keep dreaming\n\nOh my gosh, guys, calm down\nStop it\n\nNow, evolution, where's it all going? Is it coming to an end or it it just beginning\nThere was one fellow who know'd Malibu quite well at a certain time in history\nAnd I doubt if, uh, very few people are able to find these types of conditions again\nDue to crowds and controls and much bureaucracy\nBut there are other areas which are magnificent or treasures of this world\nAnd for somebody with adventure and excitement in their lives, and they have a lot of excitement and adventure\nThey can find this way of living"}
{"text":"60 ContributorsLockdown Lyrics\nYou should've been downtown (Word)\nThe people are risin' (For real?)\nWe thought it was a lockdown\u2005(What?)\nThey\u2005opened the fire\u2005(Man)\nThem bullets was flyin' (Ooh)\nWho said\u2005it was a lockdown? Goddamn lie\n\nOh my\nTime heals all, but you out of time now (Now)\nJudge gotta watch us from the clock tower (True)\nLil' tear gas cleared the whole place out\nI'll be back with the hazmat for the next round\nWe was tryna protest, then the fires broke out\nLook out for the secret agents, they be planted in the crowd\nSaid, \"It's civil unrest,\" but you sleep so sound\nLike you don't hear the screams when we catchin' beatdowns?\nStayin' quiet when they killin' niggas, but you speak loud\nWhen we riot, got opinions comin' from a place of privilege\nSicker than the COVID how they did him on the ground\nSpeakin' of the COVID, is it still goin' around?\nAnd won't you tell me 'bout the lootin'? What's that really all about?\n'Cause they throw away black lives like paper towels\nPlus unemployment rate, what, forty million now?\nKilled a man in broad day, might never see a trial\nWe just wanna break chains like slaves in the South\nStarted in the North End but we in the downtown\nRiot cops tried to block, now we got a showdown\n(Citizens of Los Angeles) Down\n(I hereby declare this to be an unlawful assembly)\n(And in the name of the people of the State of California)\nYou might also like\nYou should've been downtown (Command all those assembled)\nThe people are risin' (Right here)\nWe thought it was a lockdown\nThey opened the fire (Ooh)\nThem bullets was flyin'\n(Lockdown, we ain't gotta stop because they tell us to)\nWho said it was a lockdown? Goddamn lie\n\nDowntown, where I got popped with the rubber bullet\nTrey-pound, got it in my name now, I'ma shoot it\n\nUh, okay, never understand why they do it\nSomeone cut the channel off the news 'fore I lose it (Nah)\nI ain't even trippin', if you wit' it, then we lootin' (Nah)\nHelp me put this Louis in the back of Suzuki (Ooh), o-he\nHad to break it down so smoothly (Smooth)\nThey gon' say, \"It's not about race,\" but we movin' (Fuckin') ho, power\nCopped the trey-pound, had to put that in my name\nWish a nigga play now (Yeah)\nAny given day, I'll be headed to the pulpits (Yeah)\nSay a lil' prayer, matter fact, I need two of 'em, ooh\nWon't he do it? Won't he do it?\nOoh, this ain't '92 so we into new rules\nNiggas got hip, so we don't loot the projects\n'Bout to hit Rodeo with my lil' cousin Marcus\nSomeone threw a whole brick in the Neiman Marcus (Ah)\nHelp me put the whole mannequin in the Charger\nYou should've been downtown (Down)\nThe people are risin' (Look around)\nWe thought it was a lockdown (Shit, lockdown)\nThey opened the fire (Had to get low, fire)\nThem bullets was flyin' (Down, down)\nWho said it was a lockdown? Goddamn lie (Ooh-wee)\n\nLockdown, we ain't gotta stop 'cause they tell us to\nDowntown, where I got popped with the rubber bullet\nTrey-pound, got it in my name now (Uh), I'ma shoot it\nLockdown, we ain't gotta stop 'cause they tell us to\nDowntown"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsRoom in Here Lyrics\n\"Besides surfing, what do you think about? Love, for instance?\nI don't think about it, I make it\"\n\nBaby, there's room in here\nJust enough for two in here\nAin't nobody but you and me in here\nYeah, what can we do in here?\nWhat can we do? What can we do?\n\nI want you by my lonesome, above this crowded space\nIt's easier to hold some, when no one's in the way\nWell, if no one's in the running for the part\nI'd love to pick a day\nTo show you the main room (Whenever's a good time)\nI don't need a bouquet, I just need proper space\nHomie three blocks away, I got bottles for days\nI got tropical haze, go ahead and wave bye\nLet me help with your coat, grab a hold of my arm\nTell them niggas to move, tell your sister you fine\n\n'Cause baby, there's room in here\nJust enough for two in here\nAin't nobody but you and me in here\nYeah, what can we do in here?\nWhat can we do? What can we do?\nYou might also like\nAs crazy as it may seem, it's not too hard to read\nIt's too many ifs and maybes, and not enough certainty\nWell, if no one's putting numbers on the board\nI'd love to take a swing, might even graze you\nBut I don't mean any harm, I'm just speaking my mind\nTake a look at that moon, 'bout as bright as your eyes\nWe got plenty of space, go ahead and recline\nTake a puff of that, get a sip of this wine\nYeah, feelin' good?\n\n'Cause baby, there's room in here\nJust enough for two in here\nAin't nobody but you and me in here\nYeah, what can we do in here?\nWhat can we do? What can we do?\nShe had a bright smile, big white teeth, I mean\nWhiter than her white T, remind me of wifey\nMet her at the studio, sort of like a high buyer\nShe told me she had game so we connected like the wifi\nShe had this Asian swagger \u2018bout her, so I call her mai tai\nStarted followin' her, she was the only thing on my timeline\nAnd there was this one picture, her in the swimsuit\nThat made a nigga want to beat it up, and I intend to\nBut I'ma have to put in work, baby girl, then drink it all\nFace like Mona Lisa, I'm just tryna be the wall to hang on\nI ain't got no patience, I can't wait long\nShe come and see me, but she don't stay long\nAnd that's the problem, she a good girl\nMaybe it's too much smoke in the room\nAnd she don't want that Mary Jane in her Vidal Sassoon\nSo I'ma take a minute, and walk her to her Uber\nGot a bullet in my heart, and she the shooter\nAy, .Paak\nBaby, there's room in here\nJust enough for two in here\nAin't nobody but you and me in here\nYeah, what can we do in here?\nWhat can we do? What can we do?"}
{"text":"97 Contributors6 Summers Lyrics\nWait a minute!\n\nTrump's got a love child and I hope that bitch is buckwild\nI hope she sip mezcal, I hope she kiss se\u00f1oritas and black gals\nI hope her momma\u2019s El Salv', I hope her poppa stick around, yeah\n\nTake chains off, take rings off\nBracelets and things, big aches and pains\nMy jack rang off with clickbait\nTruth is too raw, it's a fish plate\nFela, the kunte\nA hunnid and fifty of us on the big stage?\nHow long it took a nigga just to get paid?\nAnd now I think I\u2019m 'bout to buy a Bentley, pronto\nI'm in LA with the shaker and bongo\nI heard your tape, do or die, it was compo-\nTrimmin' the bream with the blade and lawnmow'\nFigure it out, nigga\nBitch, don't spill my sake\nYou gon' make me kick you out this 'partment\nYou gon\u2019 have to kick it in the lobby\nDamn, but don\u2019t somebody stop me, I'm too sloppy\nYou might also like\nTrump\u2019s got a love child and I hope that bitch is buckwild\nI hope she sip mezcal, I hope she kiss se\u00f1oritas and black gals\nI hope her momma's El Salv', I hope her poppa stick around\nYes, Lord\n\nThe revolution will not be televised\nBut it will be streamed live\nIn 1080p on your pea-brain head in the face ass mobile device\nAlright?\n\nThis shit gon' bang at least six summers\nFrom out that rock you been under\nMummy wrapped, duffel bag, gutter bunny\nIt\u2019s hard to stomach cold murder\nIt's easier to get a nine millimeter\nHe was nineteen with a burner, they had to off 'em (Off 'em)\nReform, reform shoulda came sooner (Sooner)\n\nWait a minute!\nThis shit gon' bang at least six summers\n(Summers, summers, summers, summers\nSummers, summers, summers)\nWord!\nThis shit gon' bang for at least six summers\nBut ain't shit gon' change for at least three summers\nThey tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother\nPop-pop-pop goes the shooter\nReform, reform shoulda came sooner\nCome on\nThis shit gon' bang at least six summers\nPop the top, that bitch hot than a motha\nWe need more peace and less lone gunners\nPut down your heat and smoke marijuanas\nPop the lock off your muzzle\nNiggas is dyin' like lost files in the shuffle\nWe know you lyin', my nigga, naw, we don't trust you\nWe know you buy to sell it back to the public\n'Cause there's money to be made in a killin' spree\nThat's why he tryna start a war on the Twitter feed\nSomebody take this nigga's phone, is you kiddin' me?\nAnd take them AK's up outta these inner city streets\n\nThis shit gon' bang for at least six summers\nBut ain't shit gon' change for at least three summers\nThey tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother\nPop-pop-pop goes the shooter\nReform, reform shoulda came sooner\n\nAnd so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain\nGet the Coltrane and the Cobain\nAnd so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain\nGet the Coltrane and the Cobain\nDear Mr. President, it's evident that you don't give a damn\nShi-tell me somethin' that I don't know\nAll this fuckin' evidence and if it ever make it to the stand\nShi-you know they gon' let 'em go, bro\nYou was overseas stealin' niggas' land and oil\nBilly copped the Desert Eag' and it's legal to tote it\nLil' nigga bullied out his Pumas\nBut why he have to shoot the whole school up?\n\nAnd so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain\nGet the Coltrane and the Cobain\nAnd so I smoke, drink, just to cope with the pain\nGet the Coltrane and the Cobain\n\nThis shit gon' bang at least six summers\n(Summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers, summers)\nWord!\nThis shit gon' bang for at least six summers\nBut ain't shit gon' change for at least three summers\nThey tryna kill a nigga faith, we need a little truth, brother\nPop-pop-pop goes the shooter\nReform, reform shoulda came sooner"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsParking Lot Lyrics\nWell, you told me your whole life story in a few shorts\nAll the while, I never knew the tone of your voice\nA half an hour, I ramble on way too much (My love)\nAlone with my own thoughts (My love)\n(1, 2, 3, come on\u2013) Enough is enough\n\nThere's a plain way to call it, but it's never that obvious for me\nI'm in a communion, I got needs\nThe combination of all my life's complaints and a few strong drinks\nI don't remember the parking lot\nI just remember the song we sang\n(Ooh, my love)\nAnd the song we sang\n(My love)\n\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me\n1, 2, 3, come on\u2013\n(Remember the song\u2013)\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me (My love)\nCome on, you feel me (The parking lot)\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me (My love)\n1, 2, 3, come on\u2013\nYou might also like\nBring the corners from left to right\nHow many more will it take to get a crossfade?\nComing closer to midnight and I'm wide awake\nAnd ain't you afraid? Was afraid\nCouldn't wait to get you naked on the first date\nBut you made me wait\nSo it takes one to make one\nThe compromise we made\nPlease believe me, I don't recall the parking lot\nI just remember the song we sang\nAnd the song we sang\nAnd the song we s\u2013\n\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me\n1, 2, 3, come on\u2013\n\n(Ooh, my love)\nCome on, you feel me\n(My love)\nCome on\u2013\n(Remember the parking lot)\nCome on, you feel me (My love)\nCome on, you feel me\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me (My love)\n1, 2, 3, come on\u2013\nCome on, you feel me (My love)\nCome on, you feel me (The song we sang)\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me (My love)\n1, 2, 3, come on\u2013\n\n1, 2, 3, come on, you feel me\nCome on, you f\u2013\n1, 2, 3\u2013\nFeel me\n(Have mercy, baby!\nCan you dig it? Can you dig it?)"}
{"text":"54 ContributorsWithout You Lyrics\nWith all the kissin', the touchin', the bitin', the tuggin'\nYou know, you know I love what you do\n(You know I know I love what you do)\nAnd all the spittin', the cursin', the fightin' and fussin'\nYou know I'm only fuckin' with you\n(I bet you I was only thinkin' if I)\nIf I could, I'd take you everywhere\nBut you know I can't do nothin' with you\n(You know I can't do nothin' with you)\nYou know I never looked as good as I do, and it's the truth\nNo bullshit, I'm nothin' without you\n\nSay, I should take this heart and pawn it at the auction\nI don't need it, I'ma slang this bitch and take ya shoppin'\n'Cause what good is any heart if it can break in pieces?\nI would rather have no feelings, than cryin' and sobbin'\nWhen I met you, I was broke as the rope on the faucet\nI had dreams that I would blow like a Nintendo Cartridge\nI was hungry, I was dirty, I needed a shower\nSaid you fed me, and you clothed me, you packed me a sack lunch\nPapa said, \"When I get older, get a girl like your momma\"\nBut I'm twenty (cough) years old and runnin' out of options\nHow I'm supposed to trust ya?\nAin't you one of them ones tryin' to run up\nPose for the perfect picture, upload and post it?\nQuestion: Is you with me or not?\nI'm from the city where they wear bikinis in the water drought\nBut I'm used to having cyclones blown in and out of my life\nSo it's no biggie if you need time to figure it out\nYou might also like\nWith all the kissin', the touchin', the bitin', the tuggin'\nYou know, you know I love what you do\n(You know I know I love what you do)\nAnd all the spittin', the cursin', the fightin' and fussin'\nYou know I'm only fuckin' with you\n(I bet you I was only thinkin' if I)\nIf I could, I'd take you everywhere\nBut you know I can't do nothin' with you\n(You know I can't do nothin' with you)\nYou know I never looked as good as I do, and it's the truth\nNo bullshit, I'm nothin' without you\n\nYou know you wrong, shit, you out of pocket\nRemember you was couch surfin', you ain't have a casa\nAnd mi casa, I would buy you shoes from out the locker\nEven though I heard around the town from all the gossip\nBetween they legs and slidin' limousines in garages\nHeard your mama cheated on ya daddy, you just like her\nKarma come around, remember what happened to Tiger\nGame over, dead wrong, uh, Biggie Wallace\nI was the one you counted on before you stacked your wallets\nTalkin' 'bout me, motherfucker, you the one with problems\nHaha, you played yourself for a photo, uh, that you ain't know, though\nI only took from niggas trying to slide up in the DM\nAnd show 'em I was happy with the nigga I was seein'\nBut you fucked up, stupid, so I guess I'll go and see 'em\nAs you contemplate how to get me back like Liam\nNo fuckin' tonight, I'll be gone by the PM, nigga\nWith all the kissin', the touchin', the bitin', the tuggin'\nYou know, you know I love what you do\n(You know I know I love what you do)\nAnd all the spittin', the cursin', the fightin' and fussin'\nYou know I'm only fuckin' with you\n(I bet you I was only thinkin' if I)\nIf I could, I'd take you everywhere\nBut you know I can't do nothin' with you\n(You know I can't do nothin' with you)\nYou know I never looked as good as I do, and it's the truth\nNo bullshit, I'm nothin' without you\nMight not get, might not get any better\nMight not, might not get, might not get any better\nMight not, might not get"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsCelebrate Lyrics\nTime never cares, if you're there or not there\nAll you ever needed was a simple plan\nBut you're doing well, I mean, you're not dead\nSo let's celebrate while we still can\n\nI know what they say, I could give or care\nThey talk so much on me, I must be doing something right\nI saw my son today, in the likeness of a full grown man\nSo I'll celebrate while I still can\n\nOoh, on a clear day, you can see West LA, even downtown\nI remember where I couldn't even see the point\nOf stepping out the motherfucking house\nLet it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go\nI came to fixing up the tree that farms move\nI've came too far\n\nHow many others have walked the same ground you have?\nYou'll be wise to pay attention to your old head\nI spent the whole day throwin' records in the deep end\nSo let's celebrate while we still can\nYou might also like\nCaptivated, the fruits of my family tree\nWhere would I be without you?\nWhat would you do without me?\nIt'd be a bad look talkin' 'bout what could've been\nSo let's celebrate while we still can\n\nOoh, on a clear day, you can see West LA, even downtown\nI remember where I couldn't see the point\nBut now I'm at the point where I got it figured out\nLet it go, let it go, let it go, let it go, let it go\nI came to fixin' up the tree that farms move\nI've came too far\n\n\nDo not be concerned about the money in your brother's hand\nWhat's mine is yours\nThought you knew me better than that\nI was under the impression that we all want the best of life\nSo let's celebrate while we still can\n\nThe partnership of the, of the board and the body of the fellow that is doing the maneuvers\nIn the fluent directions with the, with this wave is what interests me\nNow chaotic surfing, nervous surfing, and uh, uh, surfing power has its, has its merits\nAnd I, uh, I can\u2014it fascinates me. That's just not my direction\nI, I can only speak for myself"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsCheers Lyrics\nYeah, uh huh\nYeah\n\nI'm workin' on a world premiere\nAnd I could see the world from here\nThey ask me where I'm going from here\nShit, anywhere long as the runway is clear\nShit, music business movin' too fast for me (God damn)\nWishin' I still had Mac wit' me (Yes Lawd!)\nHow do you tell a nigga slow it down when you livin' just as fast as 'em?\nI couldn't understand when I seen 'em stretched out cold on the pavement\nNiggas catch T-K-O's on occasion\nWishin' I could save 'em, what was I to say?\nI was doin' dates, dippin' in and out of state\nWe was goin' in to get away\nSick of feelin' so outta place\nWishin' I could save ya, what was I to say?\nWishin' I could save ya, but now it's too late\nNow, is this really what I wanted?\nIs it really worth the pain?\nNow am I really an asshole? Fuck what you say\nDon't do me no favors, let's get back to basics\nWe live for today, bitch, fuck up out my way, bitch\nI'm losin' all my aces, I'm runnin' outta patience\nGot some pretty faces knowin' what my name is\nUp in high places, I got some new neighbors\nThey don't really say shit but when they see the spaceship\nThey just think I rap or some form of entertainment\nBut they don't know I'm black, young, gifted and amazin'\nYou might also like\nYou know I had to close my eyes, yeah\nAnd if I have to free my mind\nI may not have the lane, movin' all along\nKnowin' that I can't do it on my own\nAnd if I got the pain feelin' comin' out\nHave to run away, think I'm goin' home\n\nYeah, you know I'm workin' on a world premiere\nAnd I could see the world from here\nI know you somewhere in the atmosphere\nI know someday I'll meet you halfway there (Cheers)\nThey say there's nothin' you can do about it\nCan't say that I'm new to sorrow\nWishin' I could take your problems\nTrade 'em for a little more time wit'chu\nCarry you out the bottom, the weight of the world, I got it\nSprouted wit'chu on my shoulder, the greatest honor to know ya\nI'd gotta be honest wit'cha, I hate you ain't in the picture\nI hate all them fake niggas claimin' like they gon' really miss ya\nI know there's no one to blame and maybe the point that I'm missin'\nBut I needed a minute, just give me a minute\n\nYou know I had to close my eyes, yeah\nAnd if I have to free my mind\nI may not have the lane, movin' all along\nKnowin' that I can't do it on my own\nAnd if I got the pain feelin' comin' out\nHave to run away, think I'm goin' home\nOh, say it ain't so!\nTears keep fallin' down my eyes\nDamn it, I miss you, I should be with you\nCan't turn back the hands of time but I should be with you\nI miss my friend\nDamn it, I miss you\nCannot bring you back\n\nThese pictures I'm seein' are fuckin' me up\nAnd I don't know what to do but reminisce and face the pain\nBack in the day before you were a dog and you were just pup\nBangin' beats and bringin' bitches back to the tour bus\nExcuse me, y'all, I know this .Paak shit, I just need a second\nIt's Q-Tip in this bitch and I'm just in here reflectin'\nHead on collisions with memories in the intersection\nLookin' in my rearview, wishin' I could be near you\nThe freeways of my mind are crowded with traffic\nThe good times that we had and them bad habits\nLook at me now, look around, last man standin'\nGrown man cryin' like a child tryna understand it\nSo sick of sendin' flowers to all of my brother's mommas\nDon't know what's harder, fightin' trauma or keepin' a promise\nA true confession breath is a blessin', without a question\nBut niggas don't get the message until they get disconnected\nMy story ain't over, I'm still turnin' pages\nBut the picture I painted with you in it has faded\nMy queen, my dreams and even my wages\nI know what it means to lose everything when you made it\nRags to the riches and back to the rags is a muh'fucka\nThe consequence of puttin' all your chips in one bucket\nTo be honest, I feel like gettin' right back to these commas\nYou motherfuckers keep the drama\nI'm workin' on a world premiere\nAnd I could see the world from here\nI know there must be somethin' after here\nI know some day I'll meet ya halfway there in the atmosphere\nCheers\n\nFree my mind\nYou know I had to close my eyes\nClose my eyes\nYou know I have to free my mind\nOooooh\nYou know I had to close my eyes\nYou know it's time for me...\nYou know I have to free my mind\n\nFree my...\nFree\nFree\nFree my...\n...My mind\nMy mind\nMy Mind"}
{"text":"19 ContributorsMight Be Lyrics\n\nI get the feelin' that ya might be\nDid I turn you on? You can tell me if I'm wrong\nBut I'm feelin' that ya might be\nAnd we ain't even smoke but you swear I got that dope\nAnd I'm thinkin' you'd like to be\nEvery word I speak got you floatin' off your seat\nAnd I'm knowin' that you like me\nOh, you high, baby, high, baby\n\nOkay, the blunt is rolled up\nNobody lit it\nSaid, even if we don't puff\nWon't make a difference\nMy body's leaning to the right, baby\nYou tell me go on and spend the night, baby?\nNo, I don't even know ya\nI know enough to get you high, baby\n\nI got about a half an ounce of that tree\nGot about a half a cup of that lean\nI said go on and kick your feet up\nI'ma go ahead and twist the weed up\nShe said cool to say what I think\nI said, go and do what you feel\nShe said, bend me over that sink\nI said, damn, your wish is my will\nYou might also like\nI get the feelin' that ya might be\nDid I turn you on? You can tell me if I'm wrong\nBut I'm feelin' that ya might be\nAnd we ain't even smoke but you swear I got that dope\nAnd I'm thinkin' you'd like to be\nEvery word I speak got you floatin' off your seat\nAnd I'm knowin' that you like me\nOh, you high, baby, high, baby\n\nOkay, I'm feelin' so stuck\nLaid up on the couch, got fingers in your mouth\nGirl, bring it closer\nBefore my high comes down, my high comes down\nGirl, I can barely keep my eyes open\nYou say, you tryna get your spine blown in\nNo, I don't even know ya\nI know enough to get you high floatin'\n\nI got about a half an ounce of that tree\nGot about a half a cup of that lean\nI said, go on and kick your feet up\nI'ma go ahead and twist the weed up\nShe said, cool to say what I think\nI said, go and do what you feel\nShe said, bend me over that sink\nI said, damn your wish is my will\nFeelin' that ya might be\nOh, tell me, are you high, baby\nI get the feelin' that ya\nTell me, are you high as me?\nOh, tell me, are you high?\nTell me, you high? Are you high, are you high as me?\nOh, tell me, are you high?\nTell me you are, tell me, are you high as me?\n\nI get the feelin' that ya might be\nDid I turn you on? You can tell me if I'm wrong\nBut I'm feelin' that ya might be\nAnd we ain't even smoke but you swear I got that dope\nAnd I'm thinkin' you'd like to be\nEvery word I speak got you floatin' off your seat\nAnd I'm knowin' that you like me\nOh, you high, baby, high, baby"}
{"text":"34 Contributors\u2019Til It\u2019s Over Lyrics\nWe stayed up all night watching the comedy show\nThat aged whiskey and hydro\nGood Lord, what a nice conversation\nI'm too floored to get anywhere safely\nYou know I talk about you highly\nI'm fascinated for the time being\nWe can laugh until the morning\nOr we can dance in the hallway\n\nOnly one more night in Los Angeles\nI really thought that I can handle it\nBut the funny thing is, I was holding back tears\nI didn't think this day would happen\nI'd give all this up for a chance at it\nYou would have thought I'd be the man for this\nBut the funny thing is, we can never stay here\nI didn't think this day could happen\n\nBut I'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\nYou might also like\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride\nRide, I'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride\n\nAnd don't all this new music sound the same?\nYeah, we must be getting old and grey\nWe left early, girl, that band was shhh anyway\nWe went home and left our clothes up in the living space, ayy\nWould you stay if your heart had the power?\nWould you run and find another life to imitate?\nIt's important that we make the best of short time\nYou could never be my one and only, anyway\nSay, can't a young man dream?\nCan't we all live the life on a widescreen?\nWhat's the point? Yeah\nYeah, we had fun, if only for the time being\n\nBut I'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride\nRide, I'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride\n\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride it 'til it's over\n\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride\nRide, I'ma ride it 'til it's over\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride\nI'ma ride, I'ma ride"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsDrugs Lyrics\nShe don\u2019t give a fuck\nShe don\u2019t ever stress me\nWe don\u2019t even talk\nAll we do is sex and leave\nNo, there\u2019s no love\nShe don\u2019t even like me\nBut if we have drugs\nShe can be my wifey\nWhen we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\n\nI got lost up in it\nGot lost up in it, got high for a minute\nSaid, my lust for life\nAnd these lights are bright and I love these women\nSaid, we bopping slow\nAnd we do the dance like we more than winning\nSaid, she off the beat\nBut she fine as fuck, so I find the rhythm\nNo love is greater\nIn this whole world, we made up\nThis love is made-up, it\u2019s made-up\nIt\u2019s made-up, it\u2019s made-up, it\u2019s made-up (Say, aye)\nI don\u2019t know this bitch but I love this shit\nAnd we both feel splendid\nAnd she loud as fuck, so I grab and touch\nAnd she don\u2019t get offended\nThey gon' call the law\nIf we don\u2019t get lost in parking lot\nShe don\u2019t like me, dog, she just like the drugs\nMy nigga, don\u2019t get it twisted\nYou might also like\nHow many more can you give to me?\nHow many more can you give to me?\nI know you're feelin' me\nGrinding and biting and kissing me\nWho gives a fuck 'bout your history?\nNobody mentioned it\nI coulda taken them all\nI coulda taken them all, look at me, dog\nLook at me dead in the eyes, tell me you ain\u2019t in love\n\nShe don\u2019t give a fuck\nShe don\u2019t ever stress me\nWe don\u2019t really talk\nAll we do is sex and leave\nNo, there\u2019s no love\nShe don\u2019t even like me\nBut if we have drugs\nShe can be my wifey\nWhen we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\n\nYou my one and only\nMy one and only, I\u2019m on one, homie\nI don\u2019t know your name\nI just love that ass and I\u2019ll pull that pony\nSaid, I hate the club\nBut I make the club when I walk into it\nSaid, you hate to drink\nBut you take the drink when I offer fluid\nNo love is greater\nIn this whole world, we made up\nThis love is made-up, it\u2019s made-up\nIt\u2019s made-up, it\u2019s made-up, it\u2019s made-up\nI can say right now that I\u2019ll lay you down\nI got lots of rubbers\nI don\u2019t give a fuck, you don\u2019t give a fuck\nWe was made for each other\nYour friend ain\u2019t cute\nBut my nigga\u2019s a trooper, he\u2019ll take the L\nI\u2019m high as fuck\nAnd you high as fuck so we parasailing\nHow many more can you give to me?\nHow many more can you give to me?\nI know you\u2019re feelin' me\nGrinding and biting and kissing me\nWho gives a fuck 'bout your history?\nNobody mentioned it\nI coulda taken them all\nI coulda taken them all, look at me, dog\nLook at me dead in the eyes\nTell me you ain\u2019t in love\n\nShe don\u2019t give a fuck\nShe don\u2019t ever stress me\nWe don\u2019t really talk\nAll we do is sex and leave\nNo, there\u2019s no love\nShe don\u2019t even like me\nBut if we have drugs\nShe can be my wifey\nWhen we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\nAyyy, ayy, we have drugs\nWhen we have drugs\nSaid, ayyy, we love it, we\u2019re in love\nWe\u2019re in love, we\u2019re in love, we\u2019re in love\nSaid, ayyy, yes, lord!\nAyyy, shout 'em niggas, ayyy\nSame\nSay love, say love, say love"}
{"text":"34 ContributorsWinners Circle Lyrics\nYou're only allowed three great women in your lifetime\nThey come along like the great fighters, once every ten years\nRocky Marciano, Sugar Ray Robinson, Joe Lewis\nSometimes you get 'em all at once\nMe? I had my three when I was sixteen\nThat happens, what are you gonna do?\nMaybe she's your first great one\nThanks a lot, Sonny\nI think I'm gonna go for one\n\nThis is not some super conventional\nExtra slick talk meant to convince you all\nMaster classes reduced to simple form\nThere's nothing formulaic about it\nThis, more that\nPapa told you only open the door if he opens it first for you\nMama, sit down, help me get through\nIs this how you felt on the day you found it?\n\nBeh-doop-boop-cha-ta-pah-dey-dah-doo\nOh, oh, ooh\n'Cause if I know I can get it, then I've already had it, I'm cool, cool\nBeh-doop-boop-cha-ta-pah-dey-dah-doo\nOh, oh, ooh\n'Cause if I know I can get it, then I've already had it, I'm cool\nYou might also like\nThis is not some take you out for lunch\nWine and dine you and cha you on counter tops\nFill your mind with cotton candy hearts\nWhat's the odds you stay a while?\nThis, more that\nGet to know me, kiss me slowly, hard to focus\nThey just don't make 'em like this no more, whoa\nBut I think I've found it\n\nBeh-doop-boop-cha-ta-pah-dey-dah-doo\nOh, oh, ooh\n'Cause if I know I can get it, then I've already had it, I'm cool, cool\nBeh-doop-boop-cha-ta-pah-dey-dah-doo\nOh, oh, ooh\n'Cause if I know I can get it, then I've already had it, I'm cool, cool\n\nCha, cha-cha-cha\nBah-bah, bah-bah-bah-buh-bah\nBah-bah, bah-bah-bah-buh-bah\nBeh-doop-boop-cha-ta-pah-dey-dah-doo\nOh, ooh\nBah-bah, bah-bah-bah-buh-bah\nSomebody go (Somebody go)\nSomebody go (Somebody go)\nSomebody go get me\nI'm 'bout to go (I'm 'bout to go)\nI'm 'bout to go (I'm 'bout to go)\nI'm 'bout to go in deep\nThat's not what I thought it was\nBut it's more than I bargained for\nSomebody go (Somebody go)\nSomebody go get me sober\n\nYeah\nThey gon' have to come for me\nCame out my comfort zone to be amidst your company\nSomethin' about the way you never gave it up to me\nBut let me know that I can get it  any day of the week\nIf talk is cheap, well then, I'm broke\nWith both hands on the sweeper, cleanin' up dirty secrets\nTold you don't ever give me that gushy, but I didn't mean it\nBring her home and I'ma bust it out the residence\nWhen I get the gushy, I go dumb like the President\nYes, lawd, I'm way up, word to Sacagawea\nIf the gushy was a sneaker, it'd be moccasin trainer\nIf the gushy wasn't so sweet, I could save it for later\nBut every time I fuck with someone else, I wish you was there\nKinda douchey I know, how the fuck I get here\nI got hoes, I got hoes, we don't need to go there\nOn my way out a zone, somebody gon' give me body\nPick my feet off the floor, boy, I think I'm fallin'\nBeh-doop-boop-cha-ta-pah-dey-dah-doo\nOh, oh, ooh\n'Cause if I know I can get it, then I've already had it, I'm cool, cool\nBeh-doop-boop-cha-ta-pah-dey-dah-doo\nOh, oh, ooh\n'Cause if I know I can get it, then I've already had it, I'm cool, cool"}
{"text":"29 ContributorsLite Weight Lyrics\n(A little surfer music, baby\nA blast from your golden past)\n\nYou know I see you from afar, right?\nHey, it's alright\nListen, I would've \n\nThere's no reason to be afraid\nNo time to be like that\nYou don't need me in that light\nIt's alright with me\nJust send it off, and I'll give it right back\nRight down to the last phase\nThere's no reason to be afraid\nNo time to be lite weight\n\nYou know I really can't fuss about it\nYou know I really can't funk without it\nYou know I really can't funk without it\nYou know I really can't fuss about it\n\nThere's no reason to be afraid\nNo time to be like that\nYou don't need me in that light\nIt's alright with me\nJust send it off, and I'll give it right back\nRight down to the last phase\nThere's no reason to be afraid\nNo time to be lite weight\nYou might also like\n(You know I see you from afar, right?)\nYou know I really can't fuss about it\nYou know I really can't funk without it\nYou know I really can't funk without it\nYou know I really can't fuss about it\n\n(Thought you might've wanted to say somethin'\nSo I was comin' up to you\nIt's cool if I come up to you, right?\n)\n\nThere's no reason to be afraid\nNo time to be like that\nYou don't need me in that light\nIt's alright with me\nJust send it off, and I'll give it right back\nRight down to the last phase\nThere's no reason to be afraid\nNo time to be lite weight\n\n\"Hey, you got a light?\"\n\"Oh, yes, here you are\"\n\"Thanks, you want a toke?\"\n\"No, no thanks\"\n\"This stuff is getting harder to get\"\n\"Johnny\"\n\"Yeah?\""}
{"text":"29 ContributorsCUT EM IN Lyrics\n(G. Ry got me)\n(Hit-Boy on the beat so, bitch, you gotta go berserk)\nYeah, yeah, okay,\u2005hmm\n\nSometimes\u2005you need a\u2005friend\nNot the ones that just show\u2005up and don't put nothin' in\nYou know the ones that lend a hand and wanna see you win\nWhen you come up on a lick, make sure you cut 'em in\nAnd then, huh\nSometimes you need a foe (You need a foe)\n\nOne that keep your eyes open, keep you on your toes\nYou know the ones that wanna keep you where you been before\nBut I can't go (No, I can't go), no, I can't go (No, I can't go)\nAnd woah, huh\nSometimes I need a check (Check)\nNot the sneakers but the ones that make you watch your step (Make you watch your step)\nFuck your chain, fuck your name, how 'bout your respect?\nGivin' more than what I get, expectin' nothing back\nIn fact (Nothing back)\n\nYou know I sat down with my accountant\nHe said, \"I got good news and I got bad news\" (Okay)\nI said, \"What's the good news?\"\nHe said, \"The good news is you made a lot\" (Whoa, okay)\nI said, \"What's the bad news?\"\n\"The bad news is you spent more\"\nOkay, oh, shit, look\nYou might also like\nHuh, sometimes you need the faith (You need to pray)\nSometimes you need to know your worth, sometimes you need to wait (May need to pray)\nShoot like the Golden Boy, but ain't from the Bay (I make it rain)\nYou can't negotiate with Dre, you gon' have to pay (You gon' have to pay)\nBut wait (Wait, wait)\nJuggin' on the main stage, fuckin' up the main frame\nLoosen up your face, baby (Ah)\nSometimes I need a vacay (It's the biggest)\nMeditate, hydrate\nProtect my energy before engagement (Huh)\n(Maybach Music)\n\nGrew up havin' nothing, you're labeled impatient (Huh)\nBut once the boss made it, you labeled amazin'\nMeticulous with words, that's your force of nature (Boss)\nI don't wanna seem absurd, but that boy's a gangster\nFoc-focusin' on me, way from Tel-Aviv (Tel-Aviv)\nBarbados with the hustle, pockets Elandis (Woo)\nDistinctive destinations all I wanna see (See)\nOceanfront residences, three different ones a week\n'Cause I deserve that (Deserve that), it's time to learn that (Learn that)\nMess around and put that thing up where your perm at (Your perm at)\nSix figures every year, yeah, I earned that (I earned that)\nAt the front of this line is where my turn at, huh\n(Maybach Music)\nSometimes you need a friend (Need a friend)\nNot the ones that just show up and don't put nothin' in (Nothin' in)\nYou know the ones that lend a hand and wanna see you win (See you win)\nWhen you come up on a lick, make sure you cut 'em in (Cut 'em in)\nAnd then (Huh)\nSometimes you need a foe (You need a foe)\n\nOh\nMen gon' lie (Oh), women gon' lie (Oh)\nYou lookin' for the truth, then the numbers don't hide (Oh)\nLookin' for the root of all evil, then you need to go\nOpen up the briefcase, see it with your eyes (Oh)\nEverybody claim to be greatest of all times\nBut they never spend a day in the rain in the front line (No lie, no lie)\nUh, stop playin' on my phoneline\nShoot, lock and load, pull up in the space coupe\nWith the roof optional, wonder why they follow suit\nI've been groomed from the womb, came out of my mama coochie\nWith some brand new tennis shoes, faster than the speedin' bullet\n\nNah, nah, nah, it's cool, it's cool, it's cool (Don't play with it, baby)\nSay what you gon' do with that (Stop playin' with it, baby)\nTurn around, if you don't do it now (Don't play with it, baby)\nExactly, yeah, 'cause you're not built like that\nIt's not a game"}
{"text":"36 ContributorsJet Black Lyrics\nYuh, yuh\n\nShe was a fan, but her friend didn't care\nI like the ones who buy they own damn beers\nIf you wanna toast to the life that you live\nPour enough shots for the whole year\nJet black hair, baby, jet black hair\nMatte black Jeep with the Rubicon grill\nOoh, it's been a while, baby, don't go there\nOoh, it's been a while, baby, come here\n\nShaped like pear, baby, jet black hair\nYou bought the drinks and I paid no care\nHold a nigga down, don't go nowhere\nOoh, it's been a while, baby, come here\n\nWe peakin'\nHands above us\nFeels like someone lifted me\nWe peakin'\nArms like covers\nFeels like someone sent for me\nYou might also like\nYuh, yuh\nWe goin' in there from the window sills\nI don't mind if they watch, I don't care\nWho gon' love you when your love ain't there?\nBaby, that ass is just unfair\nJet black hair, baby, jet black hair\nAt least two grams in your blunt wrapped there\nThese two hands always land up on the small of your back\nShould I ask if eyes can go there?\n\nYou bought the drinks and I paid no care\nCouple more shots, we can all get to bed\nYes, Lord, like you livin' on a prayer\nPlay too much, baby, come here\n\nWe peakin'\nHands above us\nFeels like someone lifted me\nWe peakin'\nArms like covers\nFeels like someone sent for me (Sent for me, yeah)\nWe peakin'\nIf this is the mood, then you should know\nI have to be honest, I love it\nWe peakin'\nIf this is the mood, then you should know\nI have to be honest, I love it\nWe peakin'\n\nAnd the coldest part is I'm not even there\nI watch your feed, but I don't feed into that\nJust give me the news\nI miss all the parties, but I'm still the best dressed, clean\nAs the curtain on him pulls back\n\nHands above us\nFeels like someone lifted me\nArms like covers\nFeels like someone sent for me\nWe peakin'\nHands above us\nFeels like someone liftin' me\nWe peakin'\nArms like covers\nFeels like someone sent for me\nWe peakin'"}
{"text":"30 ContributorsMilk N\u2019 Honey Lyrics\n\nNah-nah-nah, nah-nah\n\nWent from chicken shit ho to magnificent pro\nShoppin' bags at the grove, MCM on the coat\nHad to clean up her nose, had to dream up some goals\nSwi-swi-swimming in Fendi business that's probably owned\nI was walking down 6th, she pulled up in a 6\nShe said \"Hop in this whip,\" I said \"Bitch, you the feds\"\nShe said \"Baby, don't trip,\" then she rolled me a spliff\nShowed me pics of her kids, then she slid me some bread like\n\n\"It's yours, babe, 'cause I got big money\nSo if you need something, don't be ashamed\nIt's yours, babe, 'cause you got big lovin'\nSo go and spend somethin',\" I said \"Okay,\" I said \"Okay\"\nAll I need... good love (I said \"Okay\")\nHey (I said \"Okay\")\nAll a nigga need, yeah, good love (I said \"Okay\")\nHaaa-aah\n\nAnd now I'm swimming in milk n' honey, I'm swimming in milk n' honey\nSwi-swimming in milk n' honey, swimming in milk n' honey\nI'm swimming in milk n' honey, swi-swimming in milk n' honey\nDi-dick in this bitch's stomach, spending this bitch's money\nI'm swimming in milk n' honey, I'm swimming in milk n' honey\nSwi-swimming in milk n' honey, swimming in milk n' honey\nI'm swimming in milk n' honey, swi-swimming in milk n' honey\nDi-dick in this bitch's stomach, spending this bitch's money\nYou might also like\nIt's too good to be true, I got nothin' to do\nI got keys to the coupe, I just spent all this loot\nShe said \"Get what you want,\" she said \"Live how you do\nBut If I catch you with other bitches, your throat - I'ma slit\"\nI said, \"It's yours, babe, I put your name on this dick\"\nBut I was lyin' of course, I'm slammin' chick after chick\nSoon as she gave me the Porsche, I bang her right on the strip\nI copped some white in the 5th and pulled up right on a bitch like\n\n\"It's yours, babe, 'cause I got big money\nSo if you need something, don't be ashamed\nIt's yours, babe, 'cause you got big lovin'\nSo go and spend somethin',\" I said \"Okay,\" I said \"Okay\"\nAll I need... good love (I said \"Okay\")\nHey (I said \"Okay\")\nAll a nigga need, yeah, good love (I said \"Okay\")\nHaaa-aah\n\nAnd now I'm swimming in milk n' honey, I'm swimming in milk n' honey\nSwi-swimming in milk n' honey, swimming in milk n' honey\nI'm swimming in milk n' honey, swi-swimming in milk n' honey\nDi-dick in this bitch's stomach, spending this bitch's money\nI'm swimming in milk n' honey, I'm swimming in milk n' honey\nSwi-swimming in milk n' honey, swimming in milk n' honey\nI'm swimming in milk n' honey, swi-swimming in milk n' honey\nDi-dick in this bitch's stomach, spending this bitch's money\nI got gold, I got ice, I got Polo and Nikes\nI got lean, I got Sprite, 'bout to spend a couple racks in one night\nAnd motherfuckers wanna tell me take it light, and motherfuckers wanna tell me take it easy\nI don't need no one's advice, niggas all wanna be me\nI was riding down 6th and got stopped by the pigs\nThey said, \"Hop out the whip!\" I said, \"Fuck did I do?\"\nThey said, \"Pop up the trunk!\" I'm like \"Pop up this dick\"\nThey said, \"Don't make us shoot!\" They said, \"Don't make a move!\"\nI was high as a kite, I had Xannies and white\nI looked up at the light like \"What the fuck is my life?\"\nThey said my plates ain't legit, so they opened my shit\nAnd when they opened my shit, it was snow in a fridge\nI felt dumb as a brick, I had no idea\nShe had stolen the whip and this bitch had warrants and shit and\nThis bitch pulled multiple licks and this bitch had bodies on burners\nAnd when I called from my cell, the only message I heard was\n\n\"It's yours, babe, \"I mean, you gotta do what you gotta do\"\n('Cause I got big money)\n\"Don't... scr\u2014, don't say a fucking word\"\n(So if you need something, don't be ashamed)\n\"No, you don't say shit\" (It's yours, babe, 'cause you got big lovin')\n\"Now I'm gone, I'm on a plane, babe\"\n(So go and spend somethin',\" I said \"Okay,\" I said \"Okay,\" I said \"O\u2014\")\n\"But no, you wanted to spend the money, you wanted to live\"\n(It's yours, babe, 'cause I got big money)\n\"You know, wanted to live large, you got new sneakers and all that\"\n(So if you need something, don't be ashamed)\n\"So now, you deal with them bricks\"\n(It's yours, babe, 'cause you got big lovin')\n\"Nah, nah-nah-nah-nah, I can't do nothing for you\"\n(So go and spend somethin',\" I said \"Okay,\" I said \"Okay,\" I said \"Okay\")\n\"I told you, I'm on a G5, I'm gone, I'm too gone\" (I said \"Okay\")\n\"I gotta go now, you say my fucking name, you a dead man\" (I said \"Okay\")\n(I said \"Okay,\" I said \"Okay,\" I said \"Okay,\" I said \"Okay,\" I said \"Okay\")\nAll I need... good love\nHey\nAll a nigga need, yeah, good love\nHaaa-aah"}
{"text":"24 ContributorsYour Prime Lyrics\n(Do you have girlfriends?)\nYou pickin' on me?\n(No, why are you saying that?)\nWhy are you picking on me?\n(Why would I do that? Now let me ask you this question)\nWhy you pickin' on me?\nShut up and sit down! I told you to sit down!\n\nDon't use it, don't use it all at once\nBaby girl, your prime is about that long\nDon't use it, timing is all we got\nBaby girl, your prime is about that long\n\nOh, hell no\nI had to get back for the candy, uh\nI flew for an hour then landed, oh\nShe live on a beautiful campus, oh\nShe dumb as a brick but she pass all her classes\nKnow what she want and she know I ain't shit but a savage, ooh\nShe soaking up game\nHer brain is a series of pamphlets, wow\nShe told me a story as long as her lashes\nOh, what a hopeless romantic\nFucking with jokers and addicts\nShe told me everybody close to her age is full of mad shit\nI said, 'Baby girl, you ain't even old enough to be jaded'\nAnd woah, she want visual stimulation\nShort attention span and little patience\nI like Hennessy and record players\nTeddy Pendergrass and Sammy Davis\nOpposites attract, I swear, we a magnet, uh\nDon't be fucking up your scholarship\nI can't help you with grants\nWord to my father, my word and my balls is 'bout all that I honor\nAs God is my witness if you don't jump back in this bed\nYou might also like\nDon't use it all at once\nBaby girl, your prime is about that long\n(Do what you want, what you want, long as you jump in the bed)\nI only want to do what feels right\nI have to be gone before the midterms\nYou're making up your mind, you're out of songs, aren't you?\nI wanted an encore, more tunes\n\nHey, come back to bed\nCome back to bed, come back to bed with me, ah\nCome jump in the bed, jump in the bed with me, ah\nCome back to bed, come back to bed with me, ah\nCome jump in the bed, jump in the bed with me, ah\nCome back to bed, come back to bed with me, ah\nCome jump in the bed, jump in the bed with me, ah\nCome back to bed, come back to bed with me, ah\nCome jump in the bed\n\nDon't use it all at once\nBaby girl, your prime is about that long\nTiming is all we got\nBaby girl, your prime is about that long"}
{"text":"61 ContributorsBrother\u2019s Keeper Lyrics\nYeah, nothing's safe when your numbers change\nKeep it low or pay the fee\nNiggas talking but it's not too often that they living what they speak\nGood pussy kept me entertained\nMoney came then it went away\nLord see over everything (Over everything)\nAm I my brother's keeper? (Am I my brother's keeper?)\nYou know everybody gotta eat, bruh\nI wanna live on ahead, if not a cloud in the air\nThe right side of the chair\nIf Jesus would've had a better lawyer\nWould he have to see the cross?\nI hope your niggas is true, I hope they don't do you like Judas\nI pray to God\nPain wearing off, sleeping while I talk\nLaid in the arms, woke up at the top\nI wanna live on ahead, if not a cloud in the air\nRight side of the chair\n\n9 A.M. L.A. time\nMy brother just turned down a half a million dollars\nFor being one half of one of the greatest duos in hip-hop history\n(Am I my brother's keeper?)\nI couldn't love him more\n(You know everybody gotta eat, bruh)\nEverybody eats, B\n(Am I my brother's keeper?)\nKing Push\nYou might also like\nAm I my brother's keeper? They still asking 'bout the duo\nApplaud his finding salvation\nBut I'm still rhyming 'bout the you know\nIt's hard to leave your foundation, this spaceship took me to Pluto\nStill an underground king, but the money's Jason Derulo\nSumo in the safe, Cujo on the grill\nDiamonds in the face, racing leather wheel\nTo all my other field niggas, you knowin' how I feel, niggas? (Woo)\nDestroy and rebuild niggas\nThat's the only way to build nigga, yuugh\nDefinition of a real nigga\nAnd the target, it ain't to kill niggas, no\nAm I my brother's keeper? I'm dialing in a bit deeper\nArm's reach of the reaper, they say it's cheaper to keep her\nLife's a bitch\n\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nI'm running through changes, is it strange\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nTo be baited, shit I'm grown\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nBut still a fade\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nShootin' off with no marks\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nIf I hit, there's no mistakes, yeah\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nHuh, baby\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nI'm running through changes, daily\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nEvery day, ohh, ohh now\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nI'm running through changes\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nThrough change\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nEvery day\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nWill it stay\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nI'm running through changes\n(How I ever, ever let you go)\nWill it change\n(How I ever, ever let you go)"}
{"text":"53 ContributorsKing James Lyrics\nWe've been through it all, though it could be worse\nWe've been moved around in a state of alert\nThere's nothing new or sharp about the cutting edge\nIf they build a wall, let's jump the fence, I'm over this\n\nCold stares can never put the fear in me\nWhat we built here is godly\nThey can't gentrify the heart of kings\nLet's just not talk about it\nIf I make a move, you're coming with me\n\nWhat about the love? Coming with me\nWhat about the neighbors? Coming with me\nWhat about the seed? It's coming with me\nThe people that you came with? Coming with me\nWhat about the love? Coming with me\nWhat about the neighbors? Coming with me\nWhat about the seed? It's coming with me\nThe people that you came with? You're coming with me\n\nHey\n(Okay now) Hey now\n(Just don't stay down) Uh, can't stay now\n(Let's go shake down) Until we get what we need, oh yeah\n(Okay now) I'm okay now\n(Just don't stay down) Yeah, can't hold me down\n(Let's go shake down) And let it fall like the leaves, I wanna know\nYou might also like\nWe couldn't stand to see our children shot dead in the streets\nBut when I finally took a knee\nThem crackers took me out the league\nNow I'm not much for games\nBut I play for keeps\nAnd we salute King James for using his change\nTo create some equal opportunities\n\nCold stares can never put the fear in me\nThere's a movement we've been groovin' on\nYou can move or stay your ass asleep\nLet's just not talk about it\nEverything they tried to hide\nWe're taking back for yours and mine\n\nWhat about the love? Coming with me\nWhat about the neighbors? Coming with me\nWhat about the seed? It's coming with me\nThe people that you came with? Coming with me\nWhat about the love? Coming with me\nWhat about the neighbors? Coming with me\nWhat about the seed? It's coming with me\nPeople that you came with? You're coming with me\nWhat about the love\nWhat about the seed? It's coming with me\nWhat about the love? Coming with me\nWhat about the seed? It's coming with me\nPeople that you came with? You're coming with me\nOkay now\nJust don't stay down\nLet's go shake down (Shake, shake, shake, shake)\nOkay now\nJust don't stay down\nLet's go shake down (Shake, shake, shake, shake)"}
{"text":"62 ContributorsAnywhere Lyrics\nLet me get that intro\nBlunts, gators\nHand me my mink\n\nOn the East duckin' Feds from a peephole\n1989, gangbangin' was at its peak\nThis the beat that make me reminisce on G-funk\nThree summers before The Chronic hit the streets\nI would rather slang hand to hand to a fiend\nRappin' on the side, trappin' was priority\nBut every now and then I go scoop my little thing\nPull up in my MC bangin' New Jack Swing\nOoh, summertime time back in Long Beach\nPassin' one bottle, 40 oz. O.E\nI didn't have a dollar but a nigga had a dream\nWhippin' over the stove and a nigga gotta eat\nThrew my raps in the garbage, fuck bein' a MC\nThank the Lord for Nate Dogg and thank God for Warren G\nFunny how time flies when you're high as me\n\nI think I'm in the Ruff Endz now\nI seen her throwin' up H-Town\nYou was livin' off of Dru Hill\nWasn't ready for the world but baby, who is?\nKnow you prettier than all the El DeBarges\nNever worry 'bout the total of the charges (I got this)\nYou might also like\nAnd if you need an escape for now, meet up at room 112\nWe do it anywhere (We can do it anywhere)\nOoh, yeah, and if you feenin'' (If you need a freak)\nJust call me, baby (Call me)\nI'll have you screamin' (Call me)\nOoh, ooh\n\nWe'll get back to all that ghetto shit we like\nBut for now just let me hold you all night\nCheek to cheek just like they do in the movies\nTonight, baby, I want your love on time\nAs soon as I put this on\nCutie pie, you're the reason why\nAs soon as I put this on\nI love ya so and I'll never let you go\nAs soon as I put this on, girl\nOoh, yeah\nAs soon as I put this on\nDon't fight it, let it live\n\nAnd if you need an escape for now, meet up at room 112\nWe do it anywhere (We can do it anywhere)\nOoh, yeah, and if you feenin' (If you need a freak)\nJust call me, baby (Call me)\nI'll have you screamin' (Call me)\nOoh, ooh\nWe'll get back to all that ghetto shit we like\nBut for now just let me hold you all night\nCheek to cheek just like they do in the movies\nTonight, baby, I want your love on time\nAs soon as I put this on\nCutie pie, you're the reason why\nAs soon as I put this on\nI love ya so and I'll never let you go\nAs soon as I put this on, girl\nOoh, yeah\nAs soon as I put this on"}
{"text":"12 ContributorsMiss Right Lyrics\nI need the right one\nWith a bright imagination\nSomeone to talk to\nSomebody patient\nI want a cold piece\nI want a love sensation\nI want the mind first\nI'll make the body wait for it (Wait for it)\nYou could be the right one\nWith a little dedication\nGotta make me follow through\nGotta make me chase it\nOhh, I want a stone groove\nI want a love sensation\nSomeone to hold to\nSomeone to play with\n\n'Cause, lately\nMy whole being\nJust wants\nWhat it needs\nAnd I don\u2019t mind\n(I need it\nI just need, need, need)\nYou might also like\nI want the right one\nCar keys and a cake dish\nGotta take that (Pipe work)\nGotta make me (Taste it)\nI mean, amazin'\nYou want my last name (Say it)\nWanna have my baby (Say it)\nI'll take you all places\nI want the world stage\nA certified classic\nBig planes\nLight baggage (Work)\nI got a long reach (Work, work)\nYou got that good conversation (Work)\nYou such a cold piece\nI wonder if you're taken\n\n'Cause, lately\nMy whole being\nJust wants\nWhat it needs\nAnd I don\u2019t mind\n(I need it\nI just need, need, need)\nSay it, say it (I just) I need (Vamp)"}
{"text":"46 ContributorsWho R U? Lyrics\nThey want my bidness on the front page (Headlines)\nI put prescription in Dior frames (Sunshine)\nI had the vision back in 12th grade (Lunchtime)\nThat I'd be killing shit with Doc Dre (Nigga, what?)\n\nI never want it to ever be over (Over)\nI'm out in Philly, I thought it'd be colder (Colder)\nDrunk off the liqui, I might need a chauffeur (Chauffeur)\nCheck out my jiggy, check out my, uh\n\nNow, who are you? (Man, who the fuck is this?)\nI don't know, no\nWhat you do? (Hmm, what?)\nI don't know, no\nYou short a few? (Oh, don't make me have to lose it)\nOh no, no, hold up\nPull my sticky out the jar, come on\n\nOoh savage, that's a nice get-up\nInternational, rocking Japanese denim\nEnough gas to get you above average\nHow many more drags do I have to puff from my cigar?\nNew enemies, they bringing my old ways back\nBack in my day, woulda had your whole face smacked\nLook at you niggas, wonder why I fucking hate rap\nOoh, what make you wanna go and say that? (You)\nAnd I'm on another wave, and I'm puttin' on suede\nNiggas feeling overpaid, fuck I'm 'posed to do? (Do)\nDon't nobody know your name, we ain't ever seen ya face\nYou ain't ever gang-bang, what you tryna prove?\nYou might also like\nI never want it to ever be over (Over)\nI'm out in Philly, I thought it'd be colder (Colder)\nDrunk off the liqui, I might need a chauffeur (Chauffeur)\nCheck out my jiggy, check out my, uh\n\nNow, who are you? (Ooh, nigga)\nI don't know, no\nWhat you do? (Ooh, nigga)\nI don't know, no\nYou short a few? (Ooh, nigga)\nOh no, no, hold up\nPull my sticky out the jar, come on\n\nI've been swimming through the process\nAnd you can't see me, I'm the Loch Ness\nYou could proceed, but with caution\nGive the proceeds to my god-kids\nOld dirt on my conscience\nSame nigga my pop is\nLame niggas wanna pop shit\nGet dropped quick by a drop kick\nWhy you gotta lie to me so much, babe?\nYou tell me the same shit that you told what's-his-name\nIf it don't work out, I'll go back to hustling\nCouple hundred-thousand up in my mother's name, peace\nWorld peace, niggas talk about \"Don't shoot\"\nTell that to police, mmm\nScared, ain't none of them prepared, I could see\nPromise I'ma get them commas before I decease\nI never want it to ever be over (Over)\nI'm out in Philly, I thought it'd be colder (Colder)\nDrunk off the liqui, I might need a chauffeur (Chauffeur)\nCheck out my jiggy, check out my, uh\n\nNow, who are you? (Man, who the fuck is this?)\nI don't know, no\nWhat you do? (Ooh, nigga)\nI don't know, no\nYou short a few? (Ooh, nigga)\nOh no, no, hold up\nPull my sticky out the jar, come on\nNow, who are you? (Whoa, nigga)\nI don't know, no\nWhat you do? (Whoa, nigga)\nI don't know, no\nYou short a few? (Whoa, nigga)\nOh no, no\n\nHey, AP, let it ride out"}
{"text":"31 ContributorsFire in the Sky Lyrics\nYeah, yeah, yeah\n\nYou was cruisin' with your top down, fourth of July\nI was movin' down the block, we got caught at the light\nOut my window, I was shootin' my shot\nWatchin' fireworks in the sky\nIn the summers, we let the top down, soak up the light\nAll I wanted was just to lock down the love of my life\nNice and simple, like a midnight drive\nWatchin' fireworks in the sky\n\nI'm callin' it now, I'm callin' it now, I'm callin' it now\nYou'll find love with me somehow, yeah, somehow\nI'm callin' it now\n\nWe was movin' kinda fast, but the feelin' was right\nWe should cruise out to Nevada, get married tonight\nLife is simple, 'long as you're in my life\nWatchin' fireworks in the sky\nIn the summers, we spent the nights makin' love in the park\nWe was buzzin' off cherry wine, lookin' up at the stars\nSoft and blissful, how you feel in my arms\nWoke up, you were singin' this song like\nYou might also like\nI'm callin' it now, I'm callin' it now, I'm callin' it now\nYou'll find love with me somehow, yeah, somehow\nI'm callin' it now\n\nOoh-ooh\nEvery line, every word, every noun and verb can define you\nOoh-ooh\nYou were shy but you told me to pull over and now I'm right behind you\n\nI'm callin' it now, I'm callin' it now, I'm callin' it now\nYou'll find love with me somehow, yeah, somehow\nI'm callin' it now\nI'm callin' it now, I'm callin' it now, I'm callin' it now\nYou'll find love with me somehow, yeah, somehow\nI'm callin' it now\n\nFire in the sky, yeah\nNow I can see brighter days\nFire in the sky\nNow I can see brighter days\nOoh, mate, that's fire"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsSweet Chick Lyrics\nOhh yeah\nOhh yeah\nSpotlight, that's just my life and time\n\nOkay, I got me a sweet bitch\nSo I'm headed to N.Y. just to be up in it\nOff of Rivington, we fuckin' up some Sweet Chick\nShe go vegan on the weekends\nHell naw, you shouldn't be eatin' dick\nI got me a freak bitch\nAnd she nasty, she wild, she a free spirit\nAfter me, she gon' let the whole team hit it\nGoddamn, why can't you be more discreet wit' it?\nI'm at peace wit' it\nCome on, peace, kid\n(Spotlight, that's just my life and time)\nYeah, it ain't much, look\nOkay, I got me a cheap broad\nShould be tippin' but she'll put them dollars in her bra\nShe be cussin' out the managers at restaurants\nEvery time we go to dinner, shit is free of charge\nI got me a centerfold, kinda sorta\nBut she poppin' on the Insta though\nShe gon' have a million followers by the winter time\nAfter that she'll be somebody that I used to know\n(Spotlight, that's just my life and time)\nI had to let her go, you know?\nHad a Xan ho\nShe be mumblin' and hard to understand though\nShe in love with all the trappers from Atlanta\nIntroduced her to T.I. and that was the last time I had her\nGot a skater bitch\nShe a gamer, gotta take her to arcades and shit\nShe be watchin' Anime while I'm layin' dick\nWanna go to Comic Con, I'm like \"Come down a bit\"\n(Spotlight, that's just my life and time)\nI like gangsta shit, uh\nSpeakin' of which, got a gangsta boo\nMan, her mama and her grandmama gangsta too\nWith the drama, keep the llama in the daisy dukes\nShit, if I try to take her to the party, she gon' shoot up the room\n(Fuck outta here, nigga, run ya shit, run ya shit)\nOoh, got a lazy bitch\nOh, I'ma do it tomorrow, tomorrow came and went\nAin't no fuckin' at the crib, it's probably dirty as shit\nHow you runnin' outta breath when you ridin' the dick?\nHo, oh nah, nah, nah\nYou gotta get the fuck up off me right now\nOh, baby, I been thinkin' 'bout\nWhat I gotta do all day and I'm fuckin' tired, Wilma tired\n(Spotlight, that's just my life and time)\nDamn, okay, I got it\nGot a cougar bitch\nWe be fuckin' in the back of Subarus and shit\nI would love to spend the night, there's always food in the fridge\nShe be knowin' what she like and what to do wit' it\nUh, throwin' me around, wasn't used to it (Wasn't used to it)\nGotta tell my bigger homie how abusive she is\nNigga, no one would believe me, they like \"You just a bitch\"\nHad to buy surveillance cameras to get proof of it\nDamn\n(Spotlight, that's just my life and time)\nI'm suin' you, bitch\nYou might also like\nWell, I got a tight ass one from Chicago (From Chicago)\nShe said she lowkey but everybody know (Everybody know)\nBitch is from Heaven, mattress on the floor (Whoa)\nInvite her to the crib, show her how I live\nBut she bought some roaches, no\nNext stop, Ohio (Ohio)\nHer mom's shoppin' these parts from Mexico (Mexico)\nShe demand the D before and after show (After show)\nThese are the ups and downs when we're in the\n(Spotlight, that's just my life and time)\nOoh, yeah, baby, baby, yeah\nYeah, baby\nAh, ohh\nDarlin', darlin', darlin', darlin'\n\nOkay, ha, shit\nYes, Lawd\nOkay\n(Spotlight, that's just my life and time)\nI got it, uh\n\nGot a yogi bitch\nAnd she natural, she hate to wear deodorant\nAnd she bashful if she come up out those clothes she in\nYou got a what, my nigga? You got-you got a what?\nOh, your bitch is flexible?\nNo, no, no, no, no, no\nYou like yogi bitches now? Fuck that!\nHow'd you get in here? Chill\nLet's see if your bitch could dodge these bullets, nigga\nMy nigga, you know what?\nNo, no\nGet the fuck, wait, you fuckin' wit' a bitch\nDon't talk\nThat don't shave her under arms?\nYou know what? You gon' run that under arm hair bitch\nBitches in the hood need that for edges\nPut the gun down, yo\nWhat else you got in your bag, bitch? Come up off that\nShut the fuck up, nigga\nOh\nYou know what, come up off your cha-you know what? I fuckin' loved you, nigga\nOkay, okay\nYour bitch is makin' me-you know what, bitch?\nShe 'bout to die first, fuck that\nDon't move"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsReachin\u2019 2 Much Lyrics\n\nHuh, I see you reachin', baby, what are you reachin' for?\nThat don't look easy, baby, that must be so hard\nI see you reachin', reachin' out, stretchin' out to God\nThat don't look easy, baby, that must be so hard\n\nBaby, I feel your pain\nBut to try and save you now is what I won't do, what I won't do\n(Look out) Keep tryin'\n(I'ma tell 'em, look out) I ain't tryna save you now\nI feel your pain\nBut to try and save you now is what I won't do, what I won't do\n\nHuh, I see you reachin', baby, what are you reachin' for?\nThat don't look easy, baby, that must be so hard\nI see you reachin', reachin' out, stretchin' out to God\nThat don't look easy, baby, that must be so hard\n\n\nI see you too much, baby, I need to (Take some space)\nYou kiss me too much, baby, forgot to (Wipe my face)\nI treat you too much, baby, why don't you (Ever pay?)\nI think you're too much, baby, I need to (Pump my brakes)\n(I think I'm doin' way too much, I)\nHow can one thing mean so much to you and (So little to me?)\nYou stay here too much, baby, you know it's (Not your place)\nYou're sniffin' too much, baby, I had to (Hide my yay')\nYou might also like\nI think I'm doin' way too much, I\nWay too much, way too much, hey\nHow can one thing mean so much to you and (So little to me?)\n\nI think you're doin' way too much, settle down (Settle down)\nSomebody needs to calm you down (Calm you down)\nI think you're doin' way too much, settle down (Settle down)\nSomebody needs to tell you\nHey, woah, woah (Uh, uh, ha, ha)\nSettle down (Settle it down)\nWoah, woah, woah, yeah\nNigga, sit yo' ass down (Sit yo' ass down somewhere)\nWoah (Woah-woah)\nWoah, settle down (Settle it down, settle it down)\n\nI'm givin' this up baby, before I (Blow my brains)\nI see you next lifetime, baby, what did (Badu say?)\nYou'll always be loved, baby, the one that (Got away)\nLet's keep in touch, baby, I got your (Number saved)\nUh, I gotcha, babe\n\nI think I'm doin' way too much, I\nWay too much, way too much\nHow can one thing mean so much to you and (So little to me?)\n(Don't mean much to me)\nI think you're doin' way too much, settle down\n(Way too much, yeah)\nSomebody needs to calm you down\n(Somebody needs to calm you, ha)\nI think you're doin' way too much, settle down\n(I think you're way too much)\nSomebody needs to tell you\n(Somebody needs to, somebody needs to)\nI think you're doin' way too much, settle down\n(Way too, way too much, yeah)\nSomebody needs to calm you down\n(Slow it down, yeah)\nI think you're doin' way too much, settle down\n(Way too, way too much, much)\nSomebody needs to tell you\n(Ha, c'mon, oh, oh-woah)\nSettle down (Settle it down)\n(Somebody needs to tell you)\n(Oh, oh-woah, huh)\nNigga, sit yo' ass down\n(Sit yo' ass down somewhere, somewhere, oh-woah)\nOh-oh, settle it down (Settle it down)\nSomebody needs to tell you (Oh, oh, yeah)\nSettle it down (Slow it down)\nOoh\nSa-da-da, da-do-na-da-da-da-dow\nBa-bwa-da-bwa-bwa, bwa-bwa\nSo-do-da-do-da, la-ba-do-be-dwa-mm-day\nSo-bo-do-de-do-de-dwa-dmm-day, do-day\nOh, bwa-bwa-bwa"}
{"text":"44 ContributorsWhat Can We Do? Lyrics\nYeah\nUh\n\nIt's the rap singer, the hook master\nReal life convict, son of a gambler\nHeart made of stone, and he move so cold\n'Cause my girl up and gone, she'll be back in the morn'\nGo lil' mama, take your drama\nSeems like I can't live without it\nI ache and moan\n'Cause my heart is broke\n'Cause my love went wrong\nYeah, another bag and she'll love me in the morn'\nWhile the bubble over stove\nAs I was dreaming of a bag, then I woke\nYou were starting to snore, wake your ass up\nLayin' in a bed full of cash\nYou slowly rolled over and whispered back to me\n\"That's just the way things have to be\"\nHey\n\nWhat can we do? (Yeah, what can we do?)\nWhat can we do? (What can we do, baby?)\nWhat can we do? (Hey, what can we do?)\nWhat can we do? (Do)\nYou might also like\nThat's when the change comes\nThat's when the game's done\nThat's when the walls come tumbling down\nAh, ah, ah, yeah\nThey see me gettin' action\nStarted, it ain't no fun\nTime to grow up and turn it around\nAh, ah, ah, yeah\n\nHey, what can we do? (Yeah, what can we do?)\nWhat can we do? (What can we do, baby?)\nWhat can we do? (Ooh, what can we do? Yeah)\nWhat can we do? (Yeah)\n\nTo make it feel just like it used to feel\nIf my cup was empty, you could fill it (Yeah, yeah)\nI feel you, yeah, yeah, I hear you\nTo make it feel just like it used to feel\nIf my cup was empty, you could fill it (Yeah)\nYeah, yeah, yeah\n\nWhat can we do, what can we do, what can we do?\n(Yeah, what'cha sayin', Nate?)\nWhat can we do, what can we do, what can we do? (Yeah)\nWhat can we do, what can we do, what can we do? (Like that)\nWhat can we do, what can we do, what can we do?\nDamn, Nate, you sound good than a motherfucker, man\nI need a blowout in my voice, man\nKeep singin' that shit\nYeah, you can erase all that, man\nHell naw, we already paid for this studio session, my nigga, hold on\nIt sound good, bro, where you goin'?\nLiving gone\nAyy, Nate\nWhoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa\nYeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah\nNate\nMmm, ah, ah yeah"}
{"text":"41 ContributorsSaviers Road Lyrics\nHere I go again\n\nThere I go fallin' to me knees right now\nTryna get it back on my feet right now\nChoppin\u2019 up the weight I don't need\nMaybe I could sell it to a fiend, right now\nAy, what'chu need?\nAn ounce, a quarter, a P\nI would sell you faith but you niggas don\u2019t believe\n\nLord, forgive them for they do not know what they do\nBut God if you're listening\nYes, Lawd\nI could still reach you\n\nTen P's in the rental truck\nTrimmin' flowers in the Marriott with little cuz\nSend 'em off to Arizona, let 'em build a buzz\nThen get it back for triple the profit, help 'em split it up\nTen years, been a minute, I was somewhere between givin' up and doin\u2019 a sentence\nGod, if you existin\u2019, help my momma get acquitted\nIf they plottin', then help me see it before they get the drop on me\nProbably coulda been a doctor, I\u2019m fond of optometry\nVision was like Martin Luther on the mountain peak\nValley lows, I left home for more salary\nSmuggled O's across border patrol, casually\nTook notes and took control of it manually\nHand to hand 'til it's white sands in the canopy\nNow follow me\nI\u2019m too old to act childishly\nBut every now and then I park the Beamer in the gallery\nShow off the paint for spectators and the faculty\nSame ol' niggas that said they proud of me\nSame ol' niggas that probably doubted me\nWho gon' work it out for me?\nYou might also like\nThere I go fallin' to me knees right now\nTryna get it back on my feet right now\nChoppin' up the weight I don't need\nMaybe I could sell it to a fiend, right now\nAy, what'chu need?\nAn ounce, a quarter, a P\nI would sell you faith but you niggas don't believe"}
{"text":"15 ContributorsJEWELZ Lyrics\nAlright, calm down, calm down\nAnd with over forty-two of the majority votes\nIt goes to Cheeky\u2005Andy\n\nYou\u2005know you kinda\u2005cute with the bald head (Yeah)\nGot\u2005a lil' booty in the Balmains (Ooh)\nYou know how to\u205fmove\u205fwith\u205fthem long legs\u205f(Dance)\nBring your lil'\u205fcrew, we can all rage, oh (Come on)\nThe Tesla rides smooth down the PCH (Skrrt)\nI think that I like her with the makeup off\nI know that she used to all the cheapskates\nBut I just wanna ball, show off and show her\n\nI ain't even put my jewels on\nI ain't even played my latest, greatest song\nI ain't even put my jewels on, mmm\nHad to make a point 'cause the whole joint way too dull\n(Clean up, clean up)\n\nOh yeah, mmm\nHow is it workin' with Timbaland and what's he like?\nYou might also like\nYou know you kinda cute with the long braids\nGot a little cool with your sunny shades on\nI know that you ready if you don't go\nYou know I'ma wait if you don't take long\nThe Tesla rides smooth down the PCH\nWait, I don't wanna say it, but I had to say it (Ah)\nWe ain't have do too much to show off\nBut a nigga had to prove a point, hold up\n\nI ain't even put my jewels on (Goddamn it)\nI ain't even played my latest, greatest song (Yeah)\nI ain't even put my jewels on, mmm\nHad to make a point 'cause the whole joint way too dull, yeah\n(Clean up, clean up)\n\nNow don't it look so beautiful? (Yeah)\nBeautiful\nDon't it look so beautiful? (Mmm)\nHad to clean up\nDon't it look so beauti\u2014 (Beautiful, oh yeah, 'ful, yeah)\nBeauti\u2014 (Oh yeah, 'ful, yeah)\nBeauti\u2014(Beautiful, oh yeah, 'ful, yeah)\nClean up, had to clean up\n(Ooh-ooh)\n(I ain't even get to play my latest, greatest song)\n(And I ain't even get to put my jewels on, put my jewels on)\n\nWoah, mate\nAlright, alright, put 'em up\nWhat are you talkin' about?\nOh, piss off, mate, put 'em up, I want hands\nOh, you want hands?\nYes, I got a sale, buy one, get one free\n\nI ain't even put my jewels on (Beautiful)\nI ain't even played my latest, greatest song (Clean up, clean up)\nI ain't even put my jewels on\nHad to make a point 'cause the whole joint way too dull (Clean up, clean up)\n\nNow don't it look so beautiful? (Beautiful)\nBeautiful\nBeautiful (Beautiful)\n\nYou can see the chap comin' now (Had to clean up, had to clean up)\nStill in impeccable shape as he makes his way off the jet\nChap?\nAlright, if we could, alright, if we could just have one word\nBack up, nigga, ayy, ayy (One word)\nBack up, give us some space (One word)\nCome on, get in the car, buddy, come on"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsLockdown (Remix) Lyrics\nYou should've been downtown (Word)\nThe people are rising (For real?)\nWe thought it was a lockdown\u2005(What?\u2005Yeah)\nThey opened the\u2005fire (Man)\nThem bullets was flyin' (Ooh)\nWho\u2005said it was a lockdown? Goddamn lie (Ugh, look)\n\nIt's a\u205fwar\u205fgoing\u205fon outside, I\u205fswear to God\nI'm\u205fon the front line, no front, no cap, no fun-size\nSunshine, cinnamon skin\nPeople blend in together and ride side by side, organized\nWe bust guns at the same time, harmonize (Ooh-ooh)\nForm a line, pick a lead, take a leap\nLead with love, please, you sound like Dr. King\nPeople tired of taking beatings from beasts covered in sheets\nI love niggas, but we too forgiving for how they treating us\nReparations, bit', we tryna get even\nJust run the paper maybe, then we can start the conversation\nCommon ground, prison compounds full of my fuckin' people\nHow you still sleepin'? Have you had your coffee this evening, Karen?\n'Cause you seem a little off\nAll the black girls missin' and endin' up inside the coffins\nBut you mad when they hashtag \"BlackLivesMatter\" on front your sidewalk\nDiabolical thoughts, diatribe from dialogues\nDamaging images of men and women who died off\nFighting for civil rights, a simple necessity\nGiven when you given life, but we been trippin'? Right (Skrrt)\nYou might also like\nYou should've been downtown (Ooh)\nThe people are rising (Ah)\nWe thought it was a lockdown (Shit)\nThey opened the fire (Bah, bah, ooh-wee)\nThem bullets was flying (Lockdown)\nWho said it was a lockdown? Goddamn lie\n(We ain't gotta stop 'cause they tell us to)\n\nDowntown, where I got popped with the rubber bullet\nTrey-pound, got it in my name now, I'ma shoot it\n\nUh, maybe this round two\nGovernment cinematic, American drive-thru\nEat their apple pie in the morning then bury the strange fruit\nThen marry the strange fruit and call it the Black love\nSo when he bleeds, I bleed, the sacred riddle\nAin't no money I can make to make the cops get little\nWe seen 'em murder the indigenous, the Passage Middle\nThe Constitution, a life for a bag of Skittles\nSo when we bleed, I load the sacred pistol\nAnd if you need, I'll read Assata with you\nAnd if you rich, I pray that God forgive you\nSupposed to share the garden, grow the Holy in you\nMaybe everything is a metaphor, one God\nAn African liberation is ready to take arms\nThey telling you, \"Stay calm,\" they double-barrel the shotty\nAnd stand on a graveyard and tell you to slave on\nDowntown (Down)\nThe people are rising (Look around)\nWe thought it was a lockdown (Shit, lockdown)\nThey opened the fire (Had to get low, fire)\nThem bullets was flying (Down, down)\nWho said it was a lockdown? Goddamn lie (Ooh\u2014)\n\nTurn on your tube, dawg, look how they do us\nKnee on our necks, bullets in backs, stimulus checks\nStrictly for Blacks? History repeating\nPeople scared to eat a chicken, everybody going vegan\nWhat they put in it?\nLook at the world we living in, they got us shook in it\nYou go on your jog, then your color might get you took in it\nMan in the mirror, don't look away, you better look at it\nBlack lives matter, so what it means when they shoot at it?\nGeneration, genocide, what happened to enterprise?\nHeard the man infiltrated, Black Panther, re-energize\nNothin' to figure out, they tryna kill us out\nIf I take a kneel, see my fist, I'm a killer now?\nJust think, bullshit you gotta filter out\nAre you really ready for the smoke like a Swishahouse?\nReady for the revolution, who ready to ride?\nIt won't be televised, so tell me, who ready to die?\nKnow the difference from a 'pan' and a 'plan'demic\nJust a bunch of bullshit, how we land in it?\nYou either fall for anything or you stand in it\nIt's a lot going on on this damn mission\nBig B.G. used to sell microchips\nNow he out here pushing vaccines?\nIt's 'bout to be another lockdown\nFeelin' like D.C., fuck you mean?\nDowntown (Down)\nThe people are risin' (Look around)\nWe thought it was a lockdown (Lockdown)\nThey opened the fire (Had to get low, fire)\nThem bullets was flyin' (Down, down)\nWho said it was a lockdown? Goddamn lie (Ooh-wee)\n\nLockdown, we ain't gotta stop 'cause they tell us to\nDowntown, where I got popped with the rubber bullet\nTrey-pound, got it in my name now (Uh), I'ma shoot it\nLockdown, we ain't gotta stop 'cause they tell us to\nDowntown\n\nCitizens of Los Angeles\nI hereby declare this to be an unlawful assembly\nAnd in the name of the people of the State of California\nI command all those assembled\nRight here\nOn Lomitas Avenue\n(Let's go, let's go)\nCome on, right here"}
{"text":"21 ContributorsI Miss That Whip Lyrics\n\nI don't miss her one bit\nMaybe a little bit\nSome days I think about it\nBut I get over it real quick\nIt's too late to make amends\nWe could never be friends\nI don't miss her one bit\nI miss that whip\n\nDamn, that whip\nI miss that whip\nThat whip, that whip, that whip (That whip, that whip, that whip, that whip)\nI miss that whip, look\n\nShe used to scoop me from the train station\nHave a smoothie and a rented movie, pre-rolled J waitin'\n(That whip)\n(I miss that whip)\nShe didn't care about the reach (That whip)\nFrom the Longpre to Long Beach\n(That whip, that whip, that whip, that whip)\n(I miss that whip)\nYou might also like\nAnd damn, that whip\nI miss that whip\nThat whip, that whip, that whip\nI miss that whip, yeah\n\nOooooh, ooooh-ooh (Say, ooh-ohh, woah-oh)\nOooooh, ooooh (I miss that)\nYeah-yeah, yeah-yeah (I really loved!)\nYeah-yeah, yeah (Yeah!)\nI miss that, I miss that (Oh-oh, oooh)\nI miss that whip (Yeah, I miss that)\nThat whip, that whip, that whip (I really do, yeah!)\nI miss that, I miss that whip (Yeah-ehh, yeah)\nOh, oh, oh, but I do, oh\nI really miss that\nYeah-eh\nI miss that whip\n\"Sometimes I need subscription\"\nI say lookin' by"}
{"text":"17 ContributorsWater Fall (Interluuube) Lyrics\nYeah, I can't wait for the moment you can take off\nI pray you don't have to cut my time short\nI would rather not say much\nBut if I do, it will be forward\nI can't pull no punches, baby doll\nThe gods have approved\nThe universe is in tune with me and you\nThat's why we here involved\nI'm too in love\nWhat you do this for?\nYour body moves in fluid motion\nHands in two and two, I'm open\nWho's it for? Ooh, it's yours\nI don't know if I'm the one you want to stay with\nBut I know that I'm the only one who makes you cum\n\nAnd as soon as I break down the wall\nI'm riding the wave of your waterfall\nAs soon as I break down the wall\nI'm riding the wave of your waterfall\nAs soon as I break down the wall\nI'm riding the wave of your waterfall\n\nOoh, don't touch me, baby\nDon't touch me, baby\nWait, I'm okay, I'm alright\nGive me space, don't touch me, babyYou might also like"}
{"text":"32 ContributorsHeadlow Lyrics\nThis lady is giving head\nOn I-95, at the toll\n\nI ever tell you 'bout the time I, drivin' down the I-9?\nLady in the passenger, smokin' on la-la\nPut your blunt up in the ash tray\nAnd get your hair up out the way\nJust keep your head low\nJust keep your head low\nMe and little Joonie sittin' in a movie\nSoon as the lights out, she gon' pull the pipe out\nShe don't want no popcorn, she just want her mouth on me\nJust keep your head low\nJust keep your head low\n\nOoh, she pulls my coat and so I have to slow it down, do it simple\nShe says pull over, uh oh, I slow it down, do it simple\nMy windows foggin' up, I see them watchin' us\nWe're almost home, better keep your head low\nBetter keep your head low\n\nI ever tell you 'bout the time when I, runnin' down the 9 mile?\nLady with the Puma sneaks\nSit up on me, head towel\nGrippin' locks with the right palm\nHey, don't stop, baby, keep goin'\nJust keep your head low\nJust keep your head low\nTears fallin' down my left cheek\nBaby hit the nerve like a Pepsi\nYou can't breathe when I'm neck deep\nI take it out but you just wanna finish me\nEverywhere we go, we make a scene\nWe hit it long as long as you can keep\nJust keep your head low\nJust keep your head low\nYou might also like\nOoh, she pulls my coat and so I have to slow it down, do it simple\nShe says pull over, uh oh, I slow it down, do it simple\nMy windows foggin' up, I see them watchin' us\nWe're almost home, better keep your head low\nBetter keep your head low\n\nShe pulls my coat and so I have to slow it down, do it simple\nShe says pull over, uh oh, I slow it down, do it simple\nMy windows foggin' up, I see them watchin' us\nWe're almost home\n\nOh fuck\nOh, oh, keep goin', keep goin', keep goin', keep goin'\nKeep doin' that, keep doing that\nWho the fuck taught you how to do that shit? Aw, fuck\nOh shit\n(Oh my god, holy shit)\nJust keep goin', I'm almost there\nI'm almost there, I'm almost there, I'm almost there\nJust go around me, go around me, I'm almost there\nMove, nigga"}
{"text":"18 ContributorsLuh You Lyrics\nWe must've been together\nI bet you knew just who I was\nSomewhere around your second lifetime\nWe danced on Persian rugs\nWe fucked and fell in love tonight\n\nIt's who we are\nToo familiar, solar\nEnergy carried on and on and on\nRipples in the pond\nLike a mirror, solar\nEnergy carried on and on and\n\nHey, I think I luh you (Luh you)\nFuck that, I know I do, I know I do, I know I do, I know I do\nI think I luh you (Luh you)\nFuck that, I know I do, I know I do, I know I do, I know I do\n\nFew shots, then we rid them off\nGoofed off in the loft\nWith the Scope on, I can kill them all\nWe can be lovers, two souls in a different life\nBut you know we done here been here before\nHow did you know we only sip clear liquor\nSmoke purple endo, top floor level\nType of shit that get\nFlown 'cross the pond\nYou might also like\nI think I luh you, ooooh\nWe must have been together\nIt's somethin' like I thought it was\nAnd what a lasting impression\nYou left me with an open door\nI want it more and more (Yes, lawd!)\n\nIt's who we are\nToo familiar, solar\nEnergy carried on and on and on\nRipples in the pond\nLike a mirror, solar\nEnergy carried on and on and\n\nHey, I think I luh you (Luh you)\nFuck that, I know I do, I know I do, I know I do, I know I do\nI think I luh you (Luh you)\nFuck that, I know I do, I know I do, I know I do, I know I do\n\nEnergy carried on and on (On and on)\nEnergy carried on and on (On and on)\nEnergy carried on and on (On and on)\nEnergy carried on and on (On and on)\nNothing that I can't quite put my finger on\nDo you believe that we are star crossed?\nForgive me if I'm wrong\nForgive me if I'm wrong, spinning off\nEnergy carried on and on\n\nEnergy carried on and on\nEnergy carried on and on"}
{"text":"48 ContributorsChosen One Lyrics\nNeed me a lil' baby\nWho gon' love me and touch me the right way\nNeed me a lil' baby\nWho gon' run up and jump in the fight with me\nNeed me a lil' lady\nWho gon' keep it buck like Milwaukee\nNeed me a lil' lady\nWho gon' show off, gon' show off\nGet right with me, right with me\n\nYou could be a chosen one\nKiss me with your native tongue\nShoot it if you holdin' some\nMiss me 'til the mornin' come\nBeat it like you're hittin' a drum\nFreak me 'til the world is done\nOh, oh, oh\n\nNeed me a lil' baby\nWho gon' love me and touch me the right way\nNeed me a lil' baby\nWho gon' run up and jump in the fight with me\nNeed me a lil' lady\nWho gon' keep it buck like Milwaukee\nNeed me a lil' lady\nWho gon' show off, gon' show off\nGet right with me, right with me\nYou might also like\nYou could be a chosen one\nFuck these niggas, all of them\nShoot it if you holdin' some\nKiss me 'til you make me cum\nBeat it like you're hittin' a drum\nFreak me 'til the world is done\nOh, oh, oh, oh\n\nUh\nCan't get enough, look at that\nMake you walk, pistol grip on\nFrom the kitchen to the livin' room\nTo label me as the one, debatable\nBut second to none, that suit me like a tailored suit\nAnd a nigga up, up like Sailor Moon\nBrought a totally different energy up in the room\nHeard your fans want to keep you in the underground, cool\nWhen I blow up, said I did it for MF DOOM\nNo cap, no cap\nI keep it one hundred, blowin' hundreds at The Beverly\nAll facts, all facts\nGo look for another and come back and say you'll never leave\nYour neck, your back\nI could bust it open, super soaker, make the pussy leak\nI could break it down and put it back together properly\nI know what you want and I know what you need\nWe should be lovin' each other crazy\nWe shouldn't wait 'til the day our days are through\nWe should be more than each other's baby\nWe don't have to, but we have to\nWe don't have to do it, but we have to\nWe should be lovin' each other crazy (We should)\nWe shouldn't wait 'til the day our... are through\n(No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no)\nWe should be more than each other's baby\nWe don't have to, but we have to\nWe don't have to do it, but we have to\nWe should be more than each other's baby\nWe don't have to, but we have to\nWe don't have to do it, but we have to\nWe should be lovin' each other crazy\nWe shouldn't wait 'til the day our days are through\nWe should be more than each other's baby\nWe don't have to, but we have to\nWe don't have to do it, but we have to"}
{"text":"51 ContributorsMansa Musa Lyrics\nBack on my bullshit\nI got some money to blow, I'm lookin' good, bitch\nEven as the king, I stay hood rich\nMansa Musa, gold jewelry\nOoh, what'chu talkin' 'bout? Shit, gold toothpicks\nEvery day is Christmas, Santa got his roof missin'\nAll they do throw shots at the king, it's foolish\nIt's Mansa Musa, power, move, bitch!\n\nUh, my money, money, pocket so dummy\nThat mean my money so sick, I might just cough up a hunnid\nRich gyal in me own time zone, fuck whoever\nShit, you gotta love me\nNow if you owe me mine, better run it\nA hunnid miles and runnin', yeah, I'm comin', still gunnin'\nShit that we be on, you could hate it or love it\nAnd if I said it, then I meant it, muh fucker, who want it?\n\nNow I've been on some different shit lately\nLike I need to dumb it down for this hip hop scene\nLike I only come around for this type shit here\nIf I have to bust around, it's on the hits, my dear\nNow what we gwan do with all these hits over here?\nGo up in smoke when I disappear, reappear\nHah, I'm just bein' sincere\nBoss shit, how we do it? Crack music, top tier, nigga\nShut it down, my nigga, chill\nWe could see right through that bullshit\nYou pussy, nigga, we could tell\nBetter believe my product sell\nMade a billion off my bullshit and did it, nigga, high as hell\nOverachiever, nigga, I excel\nIf my name is on this muhfucker, better believe the stock's up\nProfessional winners around us\nGotta fly, leave the buildin', levitatin' on you motherfucks\nYou might also like\nBack on my bullshit\nI got some money to blow, I'm lookin' good, bitch\nEven as the king, I stay hood rich\nMansa Musa, gold jewelry\nOoh, what'chu talkin' 'bout? Shit, gold toothpicks\nEvery day is Christmas, Santa got his roof missin'\nAll they do throw shots at the king, it's foolish\nIt's Mansa Musa, power, move, bitch!\n\nMummy wrap, double back, gimmie that\nReal rich niggas never advertise that\nBroke niggas always playin' rich, puttin' on an act\nWhoa, nigga, when your money grow, maybe we could chat\nBut in the meantime, I remain streamlined\nStackin' my ends if ever my money decline\nI double my wins, now look how my whole team shine\nHell no, blow out my dough, I'm tryna keep mine\nNigga, fuck that snow up your nose, it's fuckin' ski time\nHo-ho, call up the hoes, it's shoppin' spree time\nDon't nobody roll in a Rolls Royce where we from\nSo I'm goin' stupid as soon as I get a lil' sum\nDumb, they should have never gave you niggas money!\nHey, watch your mouth boy, you don't ball, boy\nYou don' maxin' out credit cards, boy\nI'ma cash cow, you a hog wart\nTell you anything, you would fall for it\nGet the piece, you don't really want war\nWhy the mean mug? That's uncalled for\nNow I'm back on my bullshit\nI got some money to blow, I'm lookin' good, bitch\nEven as the king, I stay hood rich\nMansa Musa, gold jewelry\nOoh, what'chu talkin' 'bout? Shit, gold toothpicks\nEvery day is Christmas, Santa got his roof missin'\nAll they do throw shots at the king, it's foolish\nIt's Mansa Musa, power, move, bitch!"}
{"text":"26 ContributorsYada Yada Lyrics\nCan't do it\nCan't do it\nHuh, and there it is, my wit's end\nThey brought me out my mind\nYou know I'm caught beside myself\nPissed off and shit outta luck\nHey, I've thought 'bout puttin' up\nI don't have the time, oh, not today\n(You know that's impossible)\n\nDoes somebody got some shit to say?\nYou know what? Fuck it\nLike yada yada\nOh, you know everythang (Can't do it)\nBut not today (Can't do it)\nBut not today\n\nMy one and only, closest homie, we've carried on for days\nI wanna burn another one down, but I'll go off in a blaze\nYeah, I need to put it out\nBut I don't have the time, oh, not today\n(You know that's impossible)\nDoes somebody got some shit to say?\nYou might also like\nDarker days were bound to come (It's what it seems)\nThrough eyes of Brenda's only son (All I could see)\nWhen the dreams become reality (Could it be)\nIt's hard to keep a smile off the mug (Look at me)\nCasually talkin' that global warmth\nAs if the temperature didn't blow out your perm\nOur days are numbered, I'd rather count what I earned\nMy greatest summer was spent on festival runs in Europe\nChicken wings and sushi, I've gotten used to the perks\nNarrowly escapin' the holy war on the turf\nTurf, yes, Lord\n\nCame a long way from them open mics at Leimert\nForgive me if I walk like I got a chip on my shoulder\nLabel tried to play me like I didn't do all the work\nI found another way through the open gate and my purpose\nNow I'm goin' crazy like (Right)\nIf they forget the dot, I'm chargin' double for the purchase\nLo and behold, my little one\nI've been gone for far too long\nIf I ever take this life for granted, you showed me just how dumb\nBut the longer I stay, the less I'm paid (I don't have the time)\nOh, not today\n(You know that's impossible)"}
{"text":"39 ContributorsSmile \/ Petty Lyrics\nWhat is it about my smile that makes you lie to my face?\nIf I close my eyes to your bullshit, I could still smell it on you\nI could smell it from a mile away\nYou can't be the truth and the lie\nOh no, hey\nMake up your mind, baby\nWhat is it about my smile that makes you lie to my face?\n\nLet me ask this, just what does it take to be the apple of your iris?\nHow much of this bullshit until we reach the pasture?\nAin't no need to gas me, it was lit from the lashes\nBack when chit-chattin' casually 'bout how you think monogamy is somethin' of the past\nBut, baby girl, your actions speak somethin' totally opposite\nAnd you have to pardon me, 'cause I am a dog, you see\nAnd if you lead me to the park, I break up off the leash\nWhat is it about my smile that would make you ponder kickin' dirt in my water?\nSpillin' bleach in the laundry bag and stressin' my momma\nPushin' dents in my armor, scratchin', dentin' my Pontiac\nBitch, are you off your shit?\nI bag another one just to piss you off and shit\nDon't make me put the shit I bought you up for auction, bitch\n\nHold on, hold the fuck up\nPause this shit\nYou might also like\nMy lady drives me high up the wall\nShe keeps me up and locked in the bathin' room\nWhy am I screamin' at the top of my lungs?\nWhen she can't hear a word that I say to her?\n\nYou petty, petty bitch, (Huh, petty)\nCalculate (All of it)\nTrackin' (All of it)\nAll of this (Bullshit)\nWorthless shit, you packaged up\nTossed out my shit, (All of it, all of it, all)\nBitch, now you know that was totally out of pocket\n\nWould've let me fall off\n(Would you catch me when I fall?)\nI won't sweat the small stuff\n(No more chasin' pennies, no)\nI can't keep from fallin' off\nKeep me from these useless bitches, these ruthless leeches\nI might catch you all alone\n(I don't need it, I don't need it)\n\nNow bro, he lends me no help at all\nHe's out there chasin' money that's far too small\nLately, he's talkin' 'bout invest and withdraw\nBut the loan of which you owe me is far from paid off\nOh, Lord\nYou petty, petty bitch, (Huh, petty)\nCalculate (All of it)\nTrackin' (All of it)\nAll of this (Bullshit)\nWorthless shit, you packaged up\nTossed out my shit, (All of it, all of it, all)\nBitch, now you know that was totally out of pocket"}